Dnalor (Dan Alor)
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6: Spear Basics
🕑 Added 2025-06-26 12:37:42 +0000 UTCRaden walked back to the weapon racks, choosing a dull sword for himself and threw a spear to Auren.
Taking the spear, Auren felt its tip. Not sharp, but it would work just fine.
For another second, they simply stared at each other, seemingly gauging each other. Then they leaped at each other, almost in unison.
Raden immediately used his sword to block Auren's attack with his spear.
Auren grinned and attacked back with his spear, his only focus on doing some damage to Raden.
Raden attacked his arms, trying to get him to drop the spear, brutally inflicting damage.
Auren ignored that, doing the same towards him.
Neither of them bothered trying to protect themselves. No, they were simply attacking each other, toughening their own skin, trying to see who would fall to the easier damage.
A few moves in, Raden seemed to realize that he had the disadvantage in that sense, considering that Auren was not at all affected by his attacks, whereas Raden was getting slightly slower, sluggish, and experiencing pain, based on the occasional grimaces on his face from Auren's spear thrusts and stabs.
Raden disengaged and leaped back with a smile on his face. "Well, it seems I'll have to defend, won't I?"
Auren leaped at him, thrusting his spear.
This time Raden blocked it with his sword, deflecting it to the side.
Auren spun back with his spear, trying to get him, but Raden once again defended before using his arm to try and push Auren back.
Auren didn’t budge, planting his feet onto the ground, and then attacked Raden once again.
Their dance continued. Auren deflected some of Raden's attacks, but mostly took the attacks directly, since he knew that in sheer technique—like with parkour or swordplay—he could not beat Raden as he was right now.
Besides, he was supposed to be a berserker, right? So it was better to attack Raden, get him worn down, damage him, chisel away at him.
His strategy was clearly working.
The thing about dull weapons was, even if Auren struck Raden on his neck and Raden was flung to the side, he simply continued the battle. It was not like a real battle where the spear could pierce through him or do enough damage for him to fall or require a cleric.
And that also applied to Raden; it was not like a real battle where he could simply use his sword and behead Auren. All he could do was perhaps slam sensitive spots.
Unfortunately for Raden, Auren was a different beast. He ignored those attacks, fighting on as though the pain didn’t bother him. The pain did register for Auren, of course, but if he hadn’t been able to fight through a little pain he wouldn’t have survived half his childhood. Raden’s appearance and stance screamed ‘rich and powerful family’ and that meant that, though he’d been trained well and early and long, he probably hadn’t ever needed the kind of relentless resilience it took to survive outside the walls.
An hour later, they both were lying on the padded floor, taking deep breaths.
Raden let out a slight groan as he touched his injuries, then turned towards Auren with a grin. "You're a real beast, man. To just ignore all of my attacks, take them head-on, and continue to battle? That's so damn manly. I've never fought anyone like you. Your fighting style is so self-destructive, but so effective."
Auren grinned back. "Why thank you, Raden. That means a lot coming from someone of your status."
Raden laughed. "It's not a style you can use in real battles… is what I'd say to anyone but you. But considering you're a berserker, it definitely is a style you can use in real battles. You truly have such tough skin. I’m amazed you haven’t been recruited before now. You really haven’t been approached by any other schools?"
“Nope.” Auren chuckled. "You got lucky and found me first. So what's the plan now?"
"You could do some self-study, if you’re that eager to keep going. Now that your classes have been registered, you should be able to see the lectures listed in the library. All basic stuff, really. Nothing unique, nothing new. Maybe some lessons on your spear, things like that. There might be some theory about berserkers, abominations, and types of dungeons, but I doubt if they'd give that to you right now. Maybe a few classes later."
"Does any of that matter for the tests?"
Raden tilted his head. "Maybe basic knowledge about the dungeons, sure, but they're not going to test you on it, no. All you need to do is be able to outlast others, fight well, and be sturdy. All three of which, to a certain extent, you have covered. You just need to fight harder and harder, learn more and more, push yourself to your limits so that your time decreases, your technique increases, and you also learn about the basic dungeons."
"Are you not going to attend the self-study lessons?" He couldn’t help but notice the ‘you’ rather than ‘we’.
Raden shook his head. "I'll do it tomorrow. I don't have the energy to do it today, not after you beat me this badly."
Auren chuckled. "Don't procrastinate. Come to the library."
Raden rolled his eyes. "No, thank you. You can go to the library yourself. I'll get this healed, and I'll go sleep. By the way, you down for this schedule every day?"
Auren gave him an incredulous look. "Of course. Who do you think you're asking? What else is there to do, even? I’m not going to beat your parkour records sitting around in bed all week."
"Right. It's you." And with that, Raden stood up, walking out of the room. He paused at the door to wave. “See you at class tomorrow.”
Auren also stood up, but while Raden headed towards the medical area to get healed, Auren walked out of the fifth floor, down back to the east wing, and followed the paths to the library.
The warden raised an eyebrow at him. "Hmm. You look surprisingly sturdy and intact. I was expecting you to be a lot more injured."
"Why so?" Auren asked, curious.
"This is your first day. Professors normally love to beat down their students. You should see how the new students act the first week. It's hilarious."
Auren laughed at that. "I imagine so. But my first class isn’t until tomorrow. I was only doing voluntary sparring today. I’d like a system terminal please."
The warden grunted assent and didn’t try to continue the conversation. He wordlessly input Auren’s time slot, scanned his school badge, and waved him over to the study area. It was late enough that half the students were sprawled liberally through the book half of the room, though of them a lot more seemed to be talking or just hanging out than studying seriously.
Auren walked to a system information terminal, the one at the very edge. There were a few others also unused; so the demand was indeed higher in mornings, like the warden had said.
The display lit up as he sat down.
Welcome, student Auren. Would you like to view your self-study material for today?
Auren pressed 'Yes' and then 'Enter'.
Available material: Basic Spear Lessons, Basic Dungeon Knowledge.
Auren clicked on "Basic Spear Lessons" first, though he was quite curious about the dungeon knowledge. The internet was good for many things, but it was also very heavily censored by the Order—information about dungeons even more censored than most. Concrete facts about dungeons were very rare to obtain, outside of the circles where they were commonplace.
Auren could list off the six dungeon types, knew how to gauge their corruption level by the look of the ground around it, practical things like that. Nothing beyond.
As curious as he was, though, that was a less pressing requirement. He could come back to that any time. Right now, he had his first combat class in the morning—and with an infamously strict professor at that—which gave him only one night to get as much improvement as he possibly could.
After verifying his selection, the system information terminal morphed into a catalog of videos. Auren grinned. He didn't have to sleep today either, did he? After all, he did have the Healer ability. Wouldn't it technically heal him and not make him affected by sleep deprivation? Now, wasn't that a thing to experiment with?
He immersed himself fully in the spear videos one by one, replayed them again and again, poring over every detail. The moves seemed so basic, superficially similar to his own underdeveloped style, yet so very different.
The evening passed to full night. By the time the other students started to leave, he was still on the third video, still absorbing it all.
In the pause between videos something tugged at his heart, an emptiness he could not deny, only try desperately to outrun. He started the next video and set it to loop, staring until his eyes blurred, then blinking until his healing could take effect.
Slowly, bit by bit, he started to get a sense for what he’d been doing wrong, where he had been messing up.
It felt like a haze, nebulous, just out of reach but so very close. He restarted the video and stared into the projected recording.
Even once he could fully comprehend, execution might be different.
“Don’t break anything, young man,” the library warden told him as he dimmed the lights and left for the night.
Auren didn’t look up.
But as the hours passed, it grew harder and harder to stay fully focused.
The fragmented class at his core hummed and reached out, demanding he make it whole. Its power poured out into him, overflowing, burning through his energy at an unsustainable rate. In the quiet of midnight, when all the murmuring voices of even the most dedicated students were gone, when the lone light in the room was the glow of his terminal, he couldn’t hide from it forever.
He intuitively knew that completing it would give him much better control, much higher efficiency, and suspected that he would be able to start working toward unlocking the other abilities.
Such as Heal Other…
His stomach tightened, his breath seemed to freeze in his chest. Why? Why couldn’t I have had this power sooner? Then I could have…
Auren gripped the terminal and forced a deep breath, though it trembled in his lips and squeezed at his heart.
He still hadn’t slept since that last morning, before his world broke apart and left him with nothing but bleeding shards of reckless desperation.
Part of him still felt that he could go back any time, that she’d still be lying there in her room. Still babble nonsensical advice, maybe let him hold her hand, probably not kick and scream. Still stare into the cracked viewpanel as though expecting something that would never appear.
Part of him insisted that so long as he didn’t go there, didn’t stand in the room, didn’t see the empty halls, that it didn’t have to be real. He’d gotten a scholarship, an extended vacation. She would be waiting for him when he got back, and she’d be so happy and proud.
As long as he didn’t think about it, didn’t acknowledge it…
He had to pretend a little longer. If he let himself collapse, let himself slow or stop, then he’d never be able to meet Lord Keine’s requirements. This wasn’t the kind of opportunity that he could ever reclaim.
This was his one chance and he wasn’t going to lose it.
He swallowed, mouth dry, chest burning. He felt trapped, empty, alone. Just then, he’d have given anything for Raden to come in and start rambling on about the craftsmanship of the bookshelves and the history of chair uphostery.
But the thought alone was enough to break the building spiral. Auren turned and walked away from the terminal, his breathing unsteady and his mind in turmoil. He had to get a hold of himself.
There was a water dispenser in the hallway. The lighting was dim for the night, but still bright enough to move confidently. He drank the first cup in great gulps, the second slower, and threw the third across his face before wiping it away.
Auren stood there a long moment, just breathing, willing his arms to stop trembling, his heart to fall steady.
He was here, he reminded himself. Not enslaved, not imprisoned, not forced to live with bionic replacement limbs that shorted out every time it rained, not beholden to any of the powers or factions that ruled the outcity. That alone was a miracle.
Despite everything, he was alive. He’d received a class, one that gave him incredible power and the potential to grow beyond his wildest dreams. He would find the rest of the fragmented class, become a full healer, and finally have the power to help people. Protect them. Restore them. Not just watch them slowly fade.
He couldn’t go out into the Broken Lands again until he was ready, however insistent the broken class was that this was the most urgent thing. He was moving forward. He’d chosen a path. He had a purpose and he had Raden and a whole noble-level academy curriculum at his fingertips.
He would learn to protect himself, learn to fight back against the monsters that lurked out there.
Focus on that. Believe it. Embody it. This moment is what he had to work with. And right now he was wasting it standing around when he could be studying.
Auren returned to the library, every step an affirmation of his path. His present. This wasn’t someplace to hide, there was still so much to learn! The past would only drown him if he let it reach him. So he shoved it all down and locked it away.
When he opened the next video, he was calm again. Still, the temptation lingered. The pull toward moving. Somewhere, anywhere.
He could grab his spear and go into the training room immediately, burn away the feeling of wrongness by asserting his physical dedication.
But the logic of efficiency protested. Why go practice one shift in stance when he would be doing everything else wrong too? He’d long since tucked the stool away and elevated the desk to standing height so he could imitate the footwork and balance here, while he could compare it to the training diagrams directly.
The more knowledge he absorbed, the better his training session would go. He could assimilate all that knowledge at once and, as he watched the future videos, some of his previous miscomprehensions were also being fixed.
So he should watch all of the spear basics, then go train for the rest of the night.
Time, however, did not follow his will. Before he knew it, the library was much brighter, and people were filling up the seats next to him. He was still only halfway through the self-study course.
It was, surprisingly, the warden who broke him out of his trance. "Hey kid," the warden said, "get up. It's almost time for your morning class."
Auren blinked, turning to the warden. "Morning class?" He could still see spear stances in his aftervision, leaving him slightly dazed as he tried to focus on the man’s face.
"Well yes. You should have a morning class, right? Every student does, except for the later years."
Auren shook away the imprints of leg angles and balance points and arm movements, dragging himself out of the intense focus he’d sunk into.
Right, of course he had classes today. That was what academy students did. "Where will I go for my classes?"
The warden looked to the ceiling with an irritated huff. "Titans above, man. How am I supposed to know? You think I’ve memorized every student’s timetable? Go and ask your dormitory in-charge or one of your friends. Stop pestering me." With that, he turned around and walked back to his desk, ignoring Auren with a rather pointed effort.
Auren straightened and stretched, uncoiling from the tension of the stance he’d been practicing. Turned out, balancing on your toes took a whole lot more thigh than he’d have guessed.
He did smile at the warden as he left, appreciating the advice nonetheless. The man continued to ignore him very pointedly.
Auren’s timetable and map were still in his room, but he was only a few halls and a quick stairway away. If he ran, he could get it in under a minute. After so much stance and positioning practice, he was itching to do something more active.
He jogged away from the library corridor, up and into the main corridor heading towards his room.
As he rounded the corner into his dormitory corridor, he nearly ran into Raden walking the other direction.
Auren stopped himself abruptly, swayed, and nearly toppled before Raden took his shoulder to steady him.
Then Raden gave him a skeptical up and down, eyes drifting back to the hall Auren had come sprinting around from. “Did you spend all night in the library?”
"Just looking at the basic movements of the spear."
For a moment, he thought Raden was about to criticise him for not sleeping, but instead the teen looked contemplative. "Oh, right, I forgot you never received formal training for your weapons. You’re in luck then. Our first class today is a weapons class."
"And I'm with you in your section?" Auren asked, just to confirm.
"Obviously. I wasn’t about to leave you on your own after I went to all this trouble to get you admitted. I talked to Keine personally to be sure our schedules line up. Now, come on, let’s go! I was about to leave without you since you never answered the door. Unless you want to freshen up, but I would advise against it. Professor Vrann is quite the angry person, especially first day of the rotation."
Auren glanced at the time then hurried after Raden. “I don't need to freshen up, but, you’re saying we have class at the same time breakfast starts?”
“Of course. You don’t want to go to Vrann’s class with a full stomach, definitely not. But no one’s going to try and force us to get up any earlier either. Though if anyone were to try, it’d be Vrann. If you don’t arrive before him—even if you're not technically late by the schedule—he will take it out on you.”
Then Raden's expression became slightly concerned as he scratched his chin. "Then again, you're the new kid. Pretty sure he'll take it out on you no matter what, just to show you your place." Then he grinned, though Auren had seen his grin enough times by now to see that he was forcing it. "Well, it should probably be fine. If you’re able to take on Keine, Vrann won’t be a problem."
Auren wasn't reassured. He’d only survived Lord Keine because the academy head went easy on him.
But a fighting class did sound like exactly what he needed. The professor being strict? No matter. This was an advanced class, after all. Even if he was overly hard on Auren, this would surely be an invaluable opportunity.
As he followed Raden down the stairs—Raden taking them two at a time and using the rail to jump around the turns—Auren’s excitement only grew stronger. After rousing from his video-immersion daze, he wasn’t tired at all. It felt like he'd just woken from a full night's sleep, even though he hadn't slept, or even properly rested, for…
Was it two days now? Three? It felt like a whole different lifetime.
Already, he felt such a strong affinity for the academy, like this was where he’d always belonged.
They descended several flights of stairs to the ground floor, then Raden hurried out of the castle by way of the front reception. They passed several other students either coming or going, and there were a handful also heading the same direction as them. Most were farther ahead, though, and even Raden’s dignified haste wasn’t going to make up the distance.
But instead of following them along the pathway that circled around the eastern side of the central palace, Raden hopped the low wall that divided the walkway from the forest and pointed off at an angle.
"This is a shortcut,” Raden explained when Auren hesitated to follow. "It'll take us directly to the class. These trees are mostly for decoration, don't hesitate to use the woods to get around this place faster."
Auren stepped carefully over the ornamental grasses along the edge of the walkway and entered the trees.
The trees were shapely, not quite consistent with each other, but the pale slender trees and dark spreading ones and spiky cone trees worked together to form a cohesive whole. The differences only made it more beautiful as a whole, not a single leaf out of place. Bright grey light filtered down through their branches, making the underbrush a diffuse patchwork of light and shadow.
He’d never actually been inside a forest before, but he didn’t need to compare to know this was a particularly beautiful one. No wonder they showed up on so many travel ads.
If not for Raden’s near-run and frequent calls to hurry up, Auren could have spent a half hour just walking through those trees, running a hand across the bark, the leaves, all the new textures and sights.
But he was as excited as Raden to get to class, so after the initial moments of awed discovery, he hurried after his friend and left the trees to themselves.
When they emerged on the other side of the woods, the first thing that caught Auren's gaze was the large, circular floor in front of him. There was a small board next to it which said "Training Ground 1," and above it were hanging signs that showed the directions for other areas in the academy: "Training Ground 2," “Main Building,” “Paragon Chapel,” "Training Ground 3," "The Forest of Food."
Auren frowned at this last one, which seemed to be pointing further north and east, away from the main palace. “Isn’t the dining room back that way?”
Noticing his attention, Raden laughed. "Right, the Forest of Food! I forgot to mention it to you. There’s of course the dining hall which you’ve already seen, but the academy also has a nature cafeteria in the middle of the forest, you see, if you want to grab some of the allegedly healthier food.” He snorted, clearly not a great believer in the idea.
Auren’s stomach chose that moment to remind him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous day. Sure, he’d eaten a lot, but he’d also burned a lot of energy in the subsequent hours of practice. And he also hadn’t slept again. Heal Self could only do so much.
But he wasn’t about to disregard Raden’s warning so soon. If he was already in for a hard time of it for being new, antagonising the professor by being late on the first day was the last thing he wanted.
“It doesn’t matter which place you want to eat at,” Raden continued, as they stepped up onto the large blackish-gray metallic ring of the training ground. “Both are available for anyone. Though the Forest of Food is stocked all day and night, not only for a few hours at mealtime. It’s a great place to grab a snack. Though if you ask me, the people who insist on eating every meal in the forest are all either pretentious bastards, or those who just want to eat fruit. It's a spectrum."
Raden's three teammates from before were already present, standing at the edge of the training circle, and they shifted over to make space. Raden and Auren joined what was essentially a circle being formed by the students around the outside of the metal ring, with gaps between groups for newcomers to enter, while the middle remained empty.
Minutes crawled past. Raden was telling him about the history of the family whose heir had personally developed this style of training ring, and also went on to become an Undertitan. He didn’t care about the wait, obviously used to it.
The students gathering around the ring kept shooting Auren curious gazes, but none of them bothered to interact with him. A few newcomers muttered or whispered with those already standing around, but what response they got Auren couldn’t tell.
It was obvious who he was, a new student. And he was clearly hanging out with Raden, so before long the observers' gazes drifted from him to Raden, but they eventually stopped caring enough to even glance their direction. Though he couldn’t help but notice a handful of those glances looked more hostile or smug than neutral.
Auren couldn’t help but feel he’d have had plenty of time for a quick shower. Well, no. He didn’t know the meaning of ‘quick shower.’ The moment he stepped into that perfect, warm, comforting cascade… Okay, yeah, Raden had been right about that, he absolutely would have lost track of time there.
But he could have taken a minute to detour back to the kitchen for a snack. The shortcut had gotten them here with so much extra time to kill, and the way food simply dissolved as fast as Auren ate for the first twenty or so plates meant he wouldn’t have to worry about the usual bloat or nausea risks unless he really sat down to gorge himself.
Then someone new entered the circle from the gap, and not a student.
A man wearing clothes similar to the receptionist's white uniform stepped in, though his outfit was a lot more informal, free-flowing, and seemed to be personally stylized, with the gold linings replaced by black.
The man held a baton in his hand—not a spear or a sword, but just a baton. He had unruly red hair, a devilish smirk, and didn't look quite young but didn't look quite old either. He was probably a few years older than Auren, maybe late twenties or early thirties.
"Vrann,” Raden whispered, leaning in towards Auren, in case he’d forgotten the twenty times a day the man’s name had come up in discussion about their upcoming class. “That is Professor Vrann."
Professor Vrann looked at each of his students one by one before his gaze focused on Auren. He spoke to a handful of them, a quick sentence or a few words. “I hope you’re taking better care of your weapon than your clothing,” to one pale-haired boy who looked like he’d fallen in a briar patch, with leaves and twigs caught in his hair as he hastily tried to brush them off his sleeves.
The boy straightened and nodded at the reprimand, but Professor Vrann had already moved on to complimenting a slender boy with what Auren considered to be an excessive number of knives strapped about his person, followed by a suggestion for one girl to invest in a better set of boots. “Given your ambitions, at least two weeks before the processional,” he finished mildly while the girl nodded vigorously.
Then Professor Vrann’s eyes landed on Auren and he frowned. "And who might you be? Wandered in to the wrong circle?"
"I am a new student who was admitted on a trial basis, sir. My name is Auren, and I will be joining class two from now on.”
"In the middle of the semester? Interesting.” The professor’s expression didn’t change, but there was a gleam in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before. “Then we'll focus on settling in the 'new' today, shan't we, newbie? The rest of you, break into your assigned duos from last time and begin a practice duel. Show me what you’ve managed to retain in your week of theory.” The tone of disdain made his stance on such subjects clear.
Raden had been hanging on every word the professor spoke, regardless of who it was addressed to, and now he nodded along. Clearly, he shared Professor Vrann’s views as far as the relative value of learning and combat training.
Auren himself wasn’t so sure. He may throw himself into training as readily as the next guy, but he wasn’t nearly as confident in disregarding other subjects without bothering to even try learning them first.
“Remember,” Professor Vrann’s voice rang out as people began drifting into pairs. “Bloodshed is permitted, broken bones are allowed, but do not go for lethal injuries. We have a warlock today and you know how they are about near-deaths. You, new kid, will be focusing with me. I need to see what you’re made of."
Auren bowed, approaching the professor. He wasn't too surprised that Professor Vrann had singled him out; Raden had mentioned the possibility, after all. Between Raden and Lord Keine, he wasn’t sure what to expect from the combat instructor.
The duos split and centered themselves in positions around the metallic disc while Professor Vrann led Auren to the edge of the disc farthest from the entry sign. The students didn’t exactly avoid that side, nor was it quite private, but it felt quite isolated in its own way.
"Specialization and class?" Professor Vrann demanded without preamble.
Auren straightened and held out his spear. "I am a berserker class, focusing on the spear, but I'm not proficient in it yet."
Professor Vrann raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you do that earned you a spot in the academy? You don't look like someone who was brought in through connections. But then again, you were hanging out with Raden. Perhaps my guess is wrong. Maybe you're just another rich brat who has tough skin."
"Raden was out tracking an abomination outside the city and thus was present when I killed it. He helped me get a spot in the academy."
"An abomination, you say? You must have gotten both incredibly lucky, and this abomination must have been incredibly weak."
"Perhaps so, Professor Vrann." Arguing would be pointless when he had no frame of reference for relative strength among abominations.
“A fresh new berserker, ready to take on anything, eh?” Professor Vrann’s face shifted into a feisty, fierce-looking grin. "And you want to learn the spear? How determined are you, I wonder? If you took down an abomination. I'm sure you don't mind a little pain. You must be used to it.”
“I am, sir.”
“Perfect.” He leaned forward, his face coming dangerously close to Auren's, like a monster looking at his prey. “I'll teach you all the basics, directly and personally. I can make you proficient in it within the week, if you do as I say and don’t give up. But it'll hurt. A lot. Most students only last a day before switching to the basic track. The particularly crazy ones might make it to three. And once you drop out, I won’t take you back. You’ll have to learn slow like everyone else, no more special treatment. So, be sure you’re ready before you agree. How much pain are you prepared to experience?"
"If it means I'll grow stronger, Professor Vrann, I am more than willing to accept any pain that I must go through."
One week of whatever torturous training methods the man had devised in return for proper spear proficiency basics? Easy trade. Nothing to think about. This was exactly what he needed if he was going to catch up to the rest of the class in time for Lord Keine’s deadline.
Professor Vrann continued to fix his gaze on Auren for a few moments longer before he leaned back, his smile disappearing, replaced by a stoic, cold expression. But Auren could swear he saw just the slightest bit of satisfaction in those eyes. "Let's see if you actually mean your words, shall we?" the Professor hissed. “Attack me.”
Auren obeyed, trying to imitate the movements he'd seen in those videos, along with whatever experience he'd gained over the years by simply swinging his half-pipe spear—although that didn't quite translate all that well with his new spear.
Despite how he’d weighted his own, this one had an entirely different center of balance and was heavier than he was used to.
Auren took a step back, gave the spear a quick heft to refamiliarize himself with its weight, then shifted his stance and slashed out in a basic lunge.
The Professor intercepted the spear with his baton and flicked it to the side with enough force Auren was almost flipped before he managed to disengage.
Auren recovered his balance and took a step back. If this had been a serious fight, he’d just left enough openings to be skewered a dozen times over. He hissed at himself, irritated.
"Too slow. Attack me.”
Auren slashed out again, crouching slightly to swipe the spearblade at his opponent’s shins.
Professor Vrann kicked Auren’s spearpoint into the air.
Body set low and arms forced high, Auren’s balance was thrown off, and before he could even think how to react, the man’s baton snapped out against his spear haft.
He landed flat on his back before he registered what hit him.
"Attack me."
Well, well, well. He was going to learn quite a bit today, wasn't he?
Auren took in a deep breath and jumped to his feet, then stabbed out at the professor’s center mass.
Counter. Strike. Counter.
Auren stabbed at Professor Vrann’s shoulder, lunged for his throat, sliced at his baton hand.
Strike. Counter. Strike.
Auren was thrown back; hit aside; staggered; knocked prone.
“Attack me.”
As the speed of their exchanges mounted, Auren found he was laughing. He couldn’t contain the thrill of excitement, nor did he try to. He grinned just as fiercely as the professor had, as manically as Raden ever did, as he struck out again and again.
More practice was always the answer, and he had the best opponent he could hope for right here.
So attack he did. From every angle, in every way he could think of, eager to rise to the challenge.
And they all failed. Each strike, no matter the speed or style, was met with neat, precise counterstrikes.
Professor Vrann didn’t even move from where he stood. No evasion, no attacks of his own, only the clean smack of baton on spear as he sent Auren stumbling back or knocked his weapon aside time after time after time.
But though he came no closer to landing a hit, with every strike Auren’s understanding progressed by leaps and bounds. Every movement, every attack, helped him move closer to matching the diagrams in the study material and farther from his own previous clumsy attempts.
His grip on the spear grew steadier, his control over its arc more precise, its balance feeling more and more natural. All those hours of repetition, all the visual knowledge he'd gleaned from those videos, moment by moment it became more real, more concrete.
From memory to movement, from movement to reflex, every strike helped it sink in. There was nothing like experiencing an actual battle, even as one-sided as this.
The numbing force with which Professor Vrann countered would have worn his arm muscles to jelly by now if not for his ongoing healing. Even with the ongoing healing, his shoulders burned and his calves protested the strain, shooting lines of pain up through his legs. He didn’t want to know how much worse it would be without his class.
If he had even a tiny bit of hesitation, self preservation, or fear, he probably would have given up long before the session ended. But Auren wasn’t some rich heir who could fall back on running the family business if the ascension thing didn’t work out. He wasn’t a bored noble looking for excitement before his inevitable retirement to managing logistics for a dozen squabbling city sectors.
He was a survivor. A healer. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Every single strike brought him just a bit closer, even if he remained infinitely far away from being able to land even a single scratch on the professor.
It took well over a hundred of his unsuccessful spear attacks before the Professor tired of the exercise.
Auren had lost count of how many. Each exchange was only a second or two in action, though resetting to his stance and preparing for the next attack added a few more to that. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes in total, judging by how little the sun had moved behind the clouds, but he didn’t have the energy to check his watch..
There was no differentiation in preparation, no warning that this was to be their final exchange. Auren lunged at a slightly different angle than usual, and instead of countering with his baton as usual, Professor Vrann reached out and caught the incoming spear in one hand. In a single fluid motion he tugged Auren close, twisted the spear away, and flung Auren to the ground, the spear flying up in a short arc before clanging to the ground.
Everyone stopped and stared.
An electric jolt of pain traveled through his body from his shoulder, and Auren hit the ground at the professor’s feet with a pained growl. The conflicting movements had entirely dislocated his left shoulder; he’d been too slow to release his weapon when Professor Vrann twisted his spear away.
Auren lay gasping, trying to calm his breathing. Shooting pain ran down his arm, his fingers were going numb, and the dull throb of the shoulder itself combined into an overwhelming soup of sensations.
The Professor stared down at him disinterestedly. "You've begun to understand the basics of the spear, and your pain tolerance isn’t too bad, but definitely not up to standard for a third-tier class. Go get your shoulder fixed. We’ll continue again tomorrow."
“I’m not done,” Auren growled. He closed his eyes, though relaxing right now was the hardest thing he’d ever done, with the multitude of compounding discomfort, and took a deep breath.
Professor Vrann narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh?”
Auren reached up, grabbed his injured arm with his other hand and positioned it behind his head. He was a hospice worker, after all; he knew the process. And now that he knew he probably didn't need to be too worried about his own healing since he had the Healer class, all he had to do was tolerate the pain. That, he wasn't all that bad at.
He twisted the arm, reached across with a grimace as the pain intensified, then—
A gentle pop and his shoulder slid back into place, pain dissolving like a fading echo. He stood, rolling it around and stretching out at different angles to verify that it was fully back in place.
Auren let out his breath in a quick huff, then bent and retrieved his spear, leveling it at his teacher. “Ready when you are, Professor.”
Professor Vrann turned to face him fully, one eyebrow raised. "Well, well, I suppose I must retract my criticism. It seems your pain tolerance is not bad at all. Looks like I can stop going easy on you.” The devilish, fiery smile returned, like he'd been given the greatest gift he could have asked for. “We're going to have fun today. Attack me."
