All of them were of good quality. They looked like they were made of high grade materials. The weapons were mounted on the stone walls in organized rows. There was a large variety. Swords. Axes. Knives. Bows. Whips. Every type of weapon one could imagine for close or ranged combat
Soren preferred using swords
Not only because he thought they were cool, but also because since first coming to this world he had been trained under his teacher Lyra in swordplay for two years. He was a novice in sword play. He hadn't learned how to use any other type of weapon. So using the sword was the only choice he had
In this world, a lot of people used weapons in combination with magic. One's fighting style was often a blend of both physical technique and magical ability. Battle prowess was important for survival. One could be as good at magic as they wanted and practice all types of spells, but battle experience was often the difference between life and death
Raw power meant nothing without the knowledge of how to apply it. Technique without adaptability meant nothing against an opponent who could think faster than you could act
Soren looked at the swords on the wall
All of them were similar. They looked like ordinary medieval silver swords. Nothing fancy. Nothing ornate. Just functional weapons designed for practicality rather than appearance
Soren unracked one from the hilt and swung it up and down a few times
It felt smooth. It was a better quality sword. Soren could tell by the way it cut through the air. The blade moved without resistance, the balance perfect in his hand. It was a weapon made by someone who understood craftsmanship
He now had two hours to prepare in this room for his fight
Soren moved to the sandbag positioned in the centre of the training room and began to move through the motions he had practiced under Lyra's guidance. Thrusts. Slashes. Defensive parries. His scarred body moved with practiced efficiency despite its damaged state
The sword sang through the air
In the cafeteria Noelle was sat alone by herself
She sat on one of the benches by the cafeteria, clutching her necklace with the figure of the goddess and recited a small prayer. Her lips moved silently, her green eyes closed in devotion. When she finished, she opened her eyes and looked around the cafeteria
Two people were moving toward her
Garrick approached with Mara at his side. Garrick was a massive man in his mid to late forties with a muscular build that spoke of decades of combat. His long white hair fell past his shoulders. He wore thin plated comfy wear that allowed mobility despite its protective qualities. His most striking feature was his metal lower jaw artifact, which replaced part of his face. The metal gleamed faintly, and metal teeth showed when he moved. His cold black eyes were empty of emotion
Mara was in her mid-twenties with a lean frame. She wore a baggy shirt with a black skirt and boots. Her black hair had purple highlights threaded through it. She had a tongue piercing and multiple ear piercings. Dark eyeshadow framed her brown eyes. She was slightly shorter than Noelle, maybe around five foot six or seven
Both sat down opposite her
The look in Noelle's eyes didn't change. Her eyes were unwavering like always. A fake kindness displayed on her face
Mara was the first one to speak. Her voice was unusually upbeat as she introduced herself
"Hiii, let me introduce us," she said with a brightness that seemed genuine. "I'm Mara, and that's Garrick. Well, you probably already knew who he was. He's kind of a celebrity around here. And we would like to ask you to join our little group"
Garrick still didn't speak. His cold eyes still just watched. His figure imposing, waiting for Noelle to respond
Noelle looked at both of them. She smiled, although her eyes remained the same as always
"I'm afraid I'll have to decide this later," she said calmly, "and wait for my friend to come back before answering"
Mara was about to speak up again before Garrick spoke ahead of her
"I'll keep this short," he said, his voice carrying the weight of someone used to being obeyed. "I won't play you for a fool. All of us are just trying to survive in here. We are all trapped. I won't lie to you. Many of us have tried escaping, but with these metal collars around our necks, none of us are getting out anytime soon"
He paused, his metal jaw catching the light
"Even if we did break these and got free use of our magic, a rank 4 mage still resides here. If he were to even think about coming after us, we wouldn't even be able to run. We would die before we could even break a sweat"
Garrick leaned forward slightly
"All of us are trying to make the best of our situation. Some of us, like myself, want to live better than the rest here. I'm just trying to keep the peace. You and your friend entering here is quite problematic. Both of you being rank 2 threatens to disrupt the peace. You yourself don't seem to be a problematic person. It's just that other one. The ugly one. Which I might begin to have issues with"
He continued, his expression unchanging
"Now that you two are separated, I will ask you to join us to keep the peace in here. So that when your friend tries to pull anything again, we can suppress him"
Mara cut in, her upbeat tone returning
"Don't worry, joining us also has other benefits," she said. "We will even give you a share of the other people's loot we collect"
Noelle thought for a moment. From the information she had gathered whilst conversing with some people at the makeshift market near the notice board, the Iron Pact wasn't only a gang by name. They also extorted and demanded shares of food and goods from prisoners. Some of these goods being shares of the monster materials from people's fights and such
This offer honestly has no downsides for me, she thought. It's actually quite tempting. I would be able to live more comfortable in this crazy place
But then a familiar crazy light ignited in her eyes as she thought to herself, but how could I rebel against my goddess? How could I be a god-damned heretic and desert my fated mission entrusted to me by His Holiness, the missionary of the goddess herself
She gave a crazy smile before responding to Garrick and Mara
"I'm afraid I will, on second thought, refuse joining you. That would brand me a heretic, and I will not disobey my goddess. So I will excuse myself"
Mara tried to say something before Noelle got up, but Garrick stopped her with a gesture. He looked at Mara with his cold eyes
"There's no use," he said quietly. "That one's just as crazy as the scarface.'' Now anger started to pile up in his voice, ''We tried, but for fucks sake we are going to be in for a long one with these two crazy bastards''
Soren was now sitting in the room, it had already been two hours
He was being escorted into the arena by some guards until he was brought before the familiar area where he first fought the Umbrax. Soren was tense and his heart was beating fast. He desperately wanted to look at who he was fighting against
The guards separated from him, leaving him in the arena with his opponent. She had black hair tied up in a messy bun at the back of her head. Long dark eyelashes framed brown eyes. She had a larger chest and she looked to have a well-trained physique
His opponent was a young woman, maybe a similar age or just a bit older than himself. She was a little bit shorter than Soren
She was wearing what looked to be similar to a Japanese kimono. The long skirt was black, the top was red, and the sleeves were gold. She was wearing a longer straw hat with longer black, gold, and red ornaments dangling off it, which matched her attire perfectly. On the hilt of her hip rested what looked to be a sheathed katana. The blade's handle was wrapped in red cord. Overall she was quite the mesmerising person
Soren finally saw his opponent and recognized her from the information that he had received from the lean young man in the market. Maren, though Soren still didn't know his name
So this is who I am fighting, Soren thought to himself
Rank 1 water mage. Mirelle Kingsblade. Very skilled with her sword. The sword is thought to be a magic artifact. The opponent fights mainly in close quarters but does possess long range capabilities
She looked at Soren with her brown eyes, and a slight smile crossed her face as she drew her katana from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the arena's light