Dnalor (Dan Alor)
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5 (version 2): Raden 101
🕑 Added 2025-06-24 19:46:33 +0000 UTCHeya guys! Some of this may look familiar, but the chapter is significantly expanded from its previous version. I thought of some fun scenes to add in that fit best here, so in they go! Chapters 3-4 have also been updated, but the content hasn't changed, just the chapter split points.
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Roderick walked up to the newbie cooks with a grin on his face. He had been thinking of a way of getting them some experience—what better than letting them cook meals that they could mess up, as long as they were safe meals? This was genius!
As soon as the ten of them saw him—some occupied with a task, some already done and hence loitering around—they knew he had some idea brewing in his head, and so they straightened up.
“Listen up, newbies,” he said, looking at them one by one, “One of the students, someone who really loves food, wants you to experiment.”
“Experiment?” One of the more courageous newbies—Debora—asked, “What do you mean, sir?”
“He wants to eat whatever you can cook with the leftovers. Entrails, blood, that sort of stuff.” Roderick explained, “Go wild. Just make sure it is cooked well.”
The newbies blinked blankly at his explanation.
“Pick a recipe and get started.”
The kitchen slid back into motion, people beginning to rush around and shout out what they needed. It would be an interesting meal, for sure.
Roderick also mentally noted that he should increase their pre-planned portion size in the future. The student added an easy extra hundred portions himself, after all.
—
“Enjoy—we made enough for you to eat multiple servings,” the chef said, and he and his colleagues placed all the food on his table.
“Thank you,” Auren replied, to which all of them responded in varying manners. The chef grinned and nodded, whereas the others just looked at him in bafflement.
It was only when they walked away did Auren look around and notice all the gazes that he’d attracted—the students sitting around stared at him in clear confusion, but he ignored their gazes and dug in.
The dishes that the chef brought out were quite delicious—delicious enough that he continued to eat a few more servings. Oh, the pleasure of being able to eat all he wanted.
And they were bringing out more? Well. Good thing that he still had some space, didn’t he?
—
Oriel looked at the stacks of food being placed in front of the unknown student by the chefs. He was baffled—an unknown student getting personally served food. As far as he knew, even Lord Keine himself, the headmaster, didn't get such treatment.
Oh, he had no doubt that Lord Keine could request such food if he really wanted to, but still. Why was this kid a sudden exception then? Especially since when Oriel looked closer, he could tell that the food was well made and featured a wide variety of unique dishes.
Did that mean that this student and Lord Keine were on the same level?
No, definitely not. Unless he was some visiting dignitary, but he didn’t have the air of a highworlder. Besides, if someone like that were going to show up here, Oriel would have known months in advance.
As for local nobility, it was hard to think of anyone he wouldn’t actually recognize immediately. Unless this one was the son of a more reclusive family. Oriel prided himself on being somewhat of a social butterfly, even back before he came to the academy, so he knew all the well-connected nobles.
He turned towards his three friends, all sitting on the bench as they ate their dishes. There was no need for them to focus on what was happening at that other table, but being the local gossip mongers of the academy, the ones who knew who to befriend and who not to—the politicians—they couldn't let this slide.
Oriel subtly nodded toward the stranger’s table. "Do any of you recognize him?"
All of them took a moment to stare at the man, then shook their heads.
And then Oriel knew. This could only be a scholarship student, a charity project. There was no way that he could be anyone worth caring about if neither he nor his friends recognized the man. At least one of them would have recognized him, otherwise they would have to give up their titles and retire.
So Oriel stood up, indignance rising more with every moment. He had to call out this special treatment.
How could a peasant just walk into their academy and act like he had the right to request food or do any of this?
Oriel strode over to the stranger’s table and sat down as if he owned the place. For a second he hesitated, giving him one last look over in case he’d missed something. But as the new student continued to eat, ignoring him, he felt his courage mount again. The man’s skin was worn in that way only downringers had, perhaps more subtly than the street beggars, but that wasn’t much of an improvement.
"Oi!" he called out, making the student look up. "Who are you?"
The student tilted his head, as though he hadn’t even noticed Oriel sitting down. "I am Auren. And you?"
Oriel snorted. Right, definitely a peasant. No one would just introduce themselves by their name, especially if they were a noble with a pedigree they were proud of.
"I," Oriel began, "am Oriel Ruiz of the Grand House Ruiz. I assume you've heard of it?"
The peasant chuckled. "No, no I have not."
Oriel lifted an eyebrow. "What right do you think you have to ask the chefs for custom-made food? The staff, being the nice people that they are, will make it for you of course, but to infringe on their rights, to go against the unspoken customs while we nobles are eating normal food—how dare you?"
At this, Auren simply blinked again. "I am not sure what you mean."
Oriel huffed. "This is clearly preferential treatment, don't you understand?" Saying so, he grabbed one of the dishes—a soup—and took a sip. He looked at it, tasted it, and then the taste truly sank in and he almost wanted to vomit.
“What is this? Entrails?” He could taste it with his refined palate and exquisite taste buds. Sure, some animal viscera had alchemical value, but it generally required special preparation. This tasted like it’d just been… thrown in a pot with—yes, those were vegetable peelings—and called a soup.
Oriel gagged and snatched one of the handkerchiefs he had in his pocket, a must for any noble worth his salt, to spit the vile concoction into it. He would have to throw this handkerchief away and burn it later.
And then he finally took a good look at the student. His own attempts to discomfit the man suddenly seemed tame. Was this perhaps the chef's way of bullying him, of showing his status because he dared ask for custom food? If even the staff considered him beneath them…
His disdain gradually turned to pure bafflement when he saw just how quickly and with relish the student was eating the soup. "How are you eating that? Do you not—" he paused, guessing vaguely. "Do you not taste it?"
The man, Auren, tilted his head. "I’m not quite sure what you mean. The food is delicious, would you agree?" And from the enthusiasm in his voice, he clearly meant it.
Oriel didn't know what to say, so he simply looked blankly up at the chef. The man had been standing—hovering, more like—behind the nearest buffet line and watching Auren’s whole performance with an unreadable expression. But when he caught Oriel’s eyes, the chef walked over to him and then bowed.
“Is there something I can help you with, Young Lord Ruiz?”
"What is this?" Oriel demanded. "This food, did you perhaps make it to punish him?"
The chef shook his head. "Have you been observing the student from the start?"
Oriel scoffed. "No, I don’t make a habit of observing peasants. It was only when you made such a fuss over him with all this…"
The chef bowed again. "This student has eaten almost thirty portions of the normal food before this. And since we had nothing left to serve him—the other students will need their food after all—we decided to make him some soup and food out of entrails and other such available ingredients."
Oriel did not know what to reply. That would be a dishonor, a disrespect of the greatest order for a normal student, but when it was a peasant, he could only appreciate the chef's subtle discrimination against him. So he simply nodded at the chef.
And then he turned back towards Auren.
For some reason, this man made his nerves tick, made him feel the urge to scold him—because how dare he eat thirty portions? True, they shouldn't be petty over food, but to eat so much when he didn't have to. Looking at his physique, clearly he wasn't some muscly brute that needed great amounts of food.
"You barbarian! How could you consume so much of the academy's resources?"
Auren, who’d been ignoring their conversation and making his way through a fifth bowl of eurgh, looked up at him, with that same look of genuine confusion. "Uh, you mean eating that much? Don't worry, the chef did mention that he would accommodate me from tomorrow, make some extra quantity."
That should normally be a reasonable compromise, but Oriel was not feeling reasonable. And even though he knew this was a very minor thing, he found this peasant very unlikeable.
Who could eat entrails soup in good faith after all?
Clearly he was just eating it to insult their academy. He made the chefs make it and then, to insult them, the nobles, and the academy, he was eating what the animals were supposed to eat, what the beasts were supposed to eat—which put them, the students, and the beasts on the same level.
As a student, he had a certain level of dignity and status to maintain.
Just when he was getting himself worked up, ready to lambast the student with the full fury of House Ruiz, he noticed someone walk to the side of the table. He turned. Standing there was Raden Linde, First Heir of High Line Linde, grinning at the stranger as though they were co-conspirators in some grand scheme.
"Ah," Oriel gasped. "Ra—I… That is to say. What brings you here, Young Lord Linde?" Oriel's family had quite lofty status, but their family was slightly lower than Raden's house in the hierarchy.
Raden simply tilted his head. "Why are you annoying my friend here? And I told you to cut it out with the house name thing."
Oriel felt genuine offense at that question, and hence did not moderate his response quite as diplomatically as he ordinarily would have. "You have chosen that peasant, that commoner scum, outring trash as your friend? I know that you are quite free-spirited, young lord Raden, but that is too much, even for someone of your disposition. You must keep your status in consideration."
"Young master Oriel," Raden began grandly, "I don't give a shit. Please leave."
Oriel took another step back, feeling his eyebrow twitch. Raden was an annoyance like that.
He looked towards Auren. Right. Doing anything to him right now would be the same as disrespecting Raden, which would be going too far when Oriel had already insulted his choice of friends.
Raden couldn’t follow him around everywhere, wouldn’t always be there to protect him. And so long as the Linde heir wasn’t present—he would find a moment and he would take payback for this. Show this peasant his place. He couldn't just act this cheekily within the academy.
Look at him! Oriel fumed even as he walked away. Because he was still eating the whole time, as though the confrontation between two high houses was not even worth his attention. The sheer gall!
—
It was only around his fifteenth serving that Auren finally began to feel satiated and let out a deep, hearty, genuine sigh.
"You truly do eat like a berserker." Auren looked up. Raden was staring down at him in wonder.
“You’re welcome to join me. There’s still some left.”
Raden laughed. "Oh, I’m finished with breakfast. I'd been eating slowly and watching your show." He pointed towards a bench in the distance. “I was sitting over there. I’m skipping my next class, so I’m done for the day, and you should be free too since it's your first day, right? We have essentially the whole day left, except for a tiny bit for self-study; what do you want to do?"
“Why are you skipping the next class?”
“I skip most theory classes. Off weeks with such classes, I spend most of my time training on my own. We’ll be a bit busier starting from tomorrow, once Professor Vrann’s back on the rotation.”
“Vrann? Oh, I think the receptionist mentioned him when she was handing me my schedule.”
“You got your schedule?!” Raden exclaimed, leaning closer., “Which class did you fall in?”
Auren obediently handed Raden his timetable, and the teenager let his eyes wander over it. He then squealed. “You’re in my class! Nice! I knew Lord Keine won’t let me down!”
Auren chuckled, “So, just who is Professor Vrann? The receptionist seemed to pity me for getting him.”
“Combat instructor for second years and up. He’s absolutely brutal.” Raden’s enthusiasm wasn’t at all dampened as he said this. If anything, he seemed more excited by the prospect of a brutal instructor.
Auren felt similarly at the prospect. The more brutal the instructor, the more progress Auren would likely make, after all. "So, what do you suggest we do today?"
"How about you train with me? I have an entire plan for you. We'll do cardio for two hours and then swim for two hours. Finally, we can do some parkour training for two hours. And for the last two hours of the day, we can train with dummies, or you can do it with me. Maybe we can split that into an hour each. So, you down for that?"
Auren blinked. "I am, but what about breaks?" He had his Healer class, so there wouldn't be much of a problem for him. But for someone like Raden who couldn't just heal instantly, wouldn't his body wear out at that rate?
"Oh, we can just go to the medic and get our injuries healed by a cleric or a warlock. It's completely fine. At the end of every two-hour session, we can just reset back to our healthiest."
Auren blinked. "Wow."
Raden really was intense.
“You know what? That sounds like a perfect plan.” Auren paused long enough to pick up the soup tureen and drink the remaining several bowlfuls in one long sustained gulp, then grinned at Raden’s look of shock. “What, you don’t think I’m going to waste it, do you?”
—
Raden led him out of the training grounds and into the academy once more, chattering his ears away.
To Auren's surprise, none of the rest of Raden’s group seemed to be around. "Won't your friends be tagging along?"
Raden pouted at that and shook his head. "Nah, they’re way less dedicated than you. They don't want to take part in my training session every day. Only once a week! Really, I tell them determination and strength are what’s needed to progress in life. And my training sequences are fun! Not those boring ‘do the same drill all day for weeks’ kind. Rotating styles, working on different capabilities. The more disciplined you are and the more training you take part in, the better off you’ll be and the faster you’ll advance.”
Auren nodded. Yeah, he agreed with Raden to a certain extent. Now that they had the opportunity to train, push themselves to the brink, and advance, why shouldn't they take it?
“They just don't understand. You, however," he turned towards Auren with a grin, "you get it. We’re going to absolutely dominate next year. I can feel it."
As they continued to talk, they climbed beyond the east wing.
On the next floor, Raden took him to the right corridor before leading him to a doorway which was pitch black and completely closed, about the size of the library doors, except not glass.
"This, my friend, is the indoor training ground. There is an outdoor-specific training ground, but this one’s slightly more intense." He winked at Auren and opened the door. "This one is normally used by the third- and fourth-years. But I’m well known enough, even amidst the third-years, they won't disturb us."
Auren nodded. Third years' training facility, he wondered how it would look.
Immediately, the people resting at the entrance turned towards them, seemingly wanting to see who dared disturb them.
Auren paused, meeting their eyes.
As soon as they saw Raden enter behind him, however, they simply went back to their business of massaging their muscles, ignoring them again.
Raden dragged Auren towards the edge of the room while Auren stared around at his surroundings with awe. All around him were machines, all kinds of unique machines, things that he'd only seen on the internet. Running mats, parkour sets at the edge, and an entire swimming pool at the very center of the room. There were even multiple lanes within the pool.
Raden grinned at him. "First, we start with some running. Come, come."
Auren followed him to a pair of the running mats, which seemed quite plain against the floor. If not for them being slightly lowered, no one would even notice they were present.
"So, since we need to push ourselves to the maximum limit," Raden said, "Running mat, go to max speed! Running mat three and four, activate!"
As soon as he said so, the running mat beneath both Raden's feet and Auren's feet immediately began to zip backward.
There was no warm-up, no preparation. Immediately, Auren had to run, run with as much speed as he could muster, large lunges like he was running for his very life.
If he stopped for even a second, he would be flung back so hard that broken bones would be the least of his worries, even though he could heal them. Even with the springy flooring material, he’d end up worse than skinned if he hit it at this speed.
Auren ran. And once he got into the flow of it, once his healing began to kick in and his muscles continued to heal, and he found renewed energy to keep running, it became almost meditative. There was nothing but him and the artificial wind keeping them from overheating, moving and moving and moving.
He didn't interrupt his posture or make any odd movements, so he didn't turn to see how Raden was doing. Only kept running and running, more and more, faster and faster, until he actually had to consciously hold himself back to not run off the mat entirely.
He didn’t know how long it was before Raden's voice broke his concentration, strained and gasping, "Three and four, please stop!" He was barely able to say it out loud.
The mats slowed gradually down to a stop instead of abruptly halting, letting Auren ease back to a normal standing position.
Auren was panting slightly, but his body itself was only slightly sore. He could even go as far as to say that the running felt good, that he wasn't fatigued much at all, except for momentary soreness.
Raden looked up at him with a glint in his eye while panting and holding onto his knees. Within just a few seconds, he stopped panting and stood up straight with a grin. "It seems I finally found a worthy opponent, haven't I? It is going to be fabulous to compete with you, Auren."
Auren could help it, he grinned back. “I’ve been wanting to improve anyway.” Raden’s excitement was infectious, and the thrill of pushing himself to new heights made him feel alive like he never had before.
"You're in luck. I’ve got a full training room reserved every evening for two hours. Otherwise, those things are quite in demand, you know. You have to book them months in advance. My slot is…” he checked his watch. “A little over four hours from now. So how about this… For our swimming cardio, let's see who can last longer. Instead of the original two hours, let's test our endurance for three, or even all four hours. We can always do the parkour training in our own time."
Auren raised his eyebrows. That did sound quite interesting, yes. It would probably develop a great amount of flexibility and nimbleness for him.
"Naturally, you know that underwater dungeons exist, yes?”
“Dungeons can exist anywhere, in theory.” Auren had heard that several times.
“Yes, but several of the really good advancement ones around here are subaquatic. At least the ones that aren’t fully controlled by royals or the Order. Hence, our swimming ability is a must. It doesn't matter how you survive this—even if you sink, continue to swim, or decide to trudge through the water, that's all up to you.” Raden hadn’t stopped grinning this entire time, all but clapping with excitement. "This is going to be fun! Do you know how to swim?"
"The basics, yes." Auren had, at a certain point when he was younger, been taught by his then-foster-mom how to swim. All he really knew was the basics: being able to tread water, and paddle himself slowly toward shore.
"Then let's get swimming, shan't we?" Raden led Auren towards two of the swimming lanes. “But through its turbulence, if you can last for an entire two hours… I will be very, very impressed, because even I have to take breaks in the middle for this one, or at least consult our resident med cleric."
He nodded to one end of the room, to a woman Auren hadn't noticed before. She wore similar white professor clothes and sat watching all of them silently. When she saw that Auren was looking at her, she met his gaze. Her blue eyes were completely cold, matching her blue hair and pale skin.
"She’ll be able to heal us if we sustain some intense damage or drown a little. So, let's see who can last the longest without breaks. I'm pretty confident I can last two hours."
Auren chuckled. "Me too." He had the self heal ability, after all. He was pretty sure he literally could not drown because he would heal over and over again. Though it would probably not be pleasant, he couldn’t help but wonder how long he could last.
Auren started to take off his blazer, but before he could further disrobe, Raden simply tackled him into the water.
Auren yelped in surprise, but his old instincts only took a second to surface and he started treading water. It was too deep for him to have touched the bottom, even being abruptly dropped in like that. "With my clothes on?" he shouted at Raden.
"I know, it’s pretty lame not to even bother with armor, but I figure we can start easy today since you’re new. That will naturally give us the most authentic experience, wouldn't you agree? If our clothes are heavy against our skin and obstruct us? We need to be used to it.” Raden swam around him in a lazy circle, proving his point by seeming entirely unbothered by his sodden clothing. “Unless you plan on fighting in a dungeon naked?"
Auren couldn’t argue with that. If Raden wanted to do it, he was down for it. Besides, his clothing was already soaked, no point delaying.
Raden read his assent and pushed away into his own lane. "Swimming simulation one and two, turn to maximum!"
As soon as he said that, the water began to turbulently push him.
The walls turned into a slimy material and seemed to close in, increasing the water pressure and making him unable to even try to stay in place. Auren was flung around violently, and only after a few bashings of his head and body against the walls that he finally regained his understanding of what was even happening. The turbulence was so great he could barely tell which way was up between waves, as the channel surged first one way, then another.
With great effort, he managed to peek through the water just once and take in a deep gasp of air before he was pushed under again.
Spinning in circles, he fought through the water again and again. His swimming skills were below pathetic, but desperation is an effective teacher. Steadily, he was able to surface more and more reliably. Then get more air in the moments when he did, as he tread water in the split second between surges.
Gradually he learned to control his movements through the water despite the chaos. Sometimes he even let his body simply fling around, using his hands or feet to absorb the impact from hitting the barriers just in time.
He continued to try new things, adapting to this unpredictable water that changed directions and intensity whenever it wanted. Sometimes it dragged him down and he failed to break free, lungs burning and instincts screaming at him to surface. The first few times that happened he flailed about in a blind panic, but that didn’t help.
By the time the water finally slowed its rage and stilled, he was still a long way from ignoring drowning, but it no longer would throw him into disorientation so easily. He’d grown much better at recognizing which way was up.
Auren surfaced and paddled his way to the wall.
Raden already had his arms over the edge to hold himself up, gasping in lungfuls of air. He looked very pale, and when he saw Auren, he laughed in disbelief. “Titans, no wonder you managed to defeat that abomination. Your resilience is insane! I think I need to go get a shot from the cleric." Unsteadily, Raden climbed onto the platform. "And I only lasted for three hours, not the full four. Shame. But it does mean we can get in some parkour training too."
Auren followed behind him. They walked towards the cleric, water dripping from them onto the floor, which evaporated immediately due to a self-cleaning mechanism. The cleric took one look at Raden and then simply waved her hand. A soft white light covered Raden, and then he looked a lot healthier, a lot more intact, his skin regaining its color.
Raden held up a hand when she started to turn away, eyes going to Auren. "Doesn’t he also need healing?"
The woman scoffed. “He does not. He clearly is fully and completely fine. Even if I do heal him, it’ll feel like warm sunlight at best for him, right now. Why would I waste my energy, in such a scenario?”
Raden looked towards Auren with an impressed gaze. “Wow, you’re still fully fine even after all that training? Insane. Berserkers really are another class apart, aren’t they? I don’t suppose you have any tips on getting a third-tier class upgrade?” But he clearly didn’t expect an answer, only grabbed Auren’s arm again and dragged him away from the swimming area to the parkour platforms.
"How does this training work?" Auren couldn’t quite tell how the platforms were supposed to help except in practicing one specific height of jump.
"Well, see these panels? They can morph their positions and, just like our running carpets, they can control how much you can move when you jump onto them. Based on that, they can simulate an accurate enough experience of you jumping over walls or running through a dungeon. You will need to jump onto all the panels or do the specific combinations which it will alert you of, or the parkour training will end in failure for you."
All four of the parkour platforms were surprisingly occupied by older students—at least, older than Raden. Auren was probably the oldest one here.
Raden hummed. "They might take a while. Maybe we should go to the outdoor training arena."
Just as he was about to turn and leave, however, two of the third-years, a girl and a guy, noticed him and jumped off their parkour training platform. "No, no, we're done. You juniors can take it."
Raden nodded. "Thanks. Appreciate it, Goodwin, Joseline."
The duo, who were trembling slightly from the intense effort they'd put through, nodded warmly to Raden before looking Auren over. "So, who is this newbie that you found? He's insane enough to keep up with you, I noticed," the man, Goodwin, asked.
Joseline nodded in agreement.
Raden began laughing. "I know, right? I'm amazed. I thought I was the only fun one in this place. Luckily, I found this dude fighting an abomination and got him in, because he's just as fun."
Joseline raised an eyebrow as she examined Auren.
Goodwin whistled. "Well, good for you. I’d like to hang around and chat, but clearly both of you have training to do, and both of us have tasks to do." He looked towards Joseline, and she nodded. Both of them left towards the exit of the training room.
Now that Auren looked towards the entrance, none of the previous students who were massaging their muscles, resting, or preparing were present. He wondered if the third-years had a specific class or a task to do right now.
"Yeah, they have an evening class," Raden said, seemingly sensing his question.
"How did you—" Auren asked.
Raden tilted his head. "The curiosity was written all over your face. And hey, even if I get strong, that's still fascinating information to know. Wouldn't you say?"
Auren chuckled. Then he stood on the parkour platform. It was quite an interesting thing: an almost spherical dome formed by blocks floating in the air, and an expanded running carpet on the ground.
"So," Raden said, "for this one, remember, no matter where the blocks are positioned, even if you can't do a perfect maneuver, try to do what they ask, either to climb them or to run at them. Even if you fall and injure yourself, ignore it. That's the way you increase your flexibility, your moves."
Auren nodded. That made sense.
"Parkour X, Parkour Y," Raden ordered, in what was becoming a familiar pattern, "start maximum intensity training sequence!"
As soon as he said that, the blocks rearranged themselves, and a voice echoed around both of them. "First move: climbing. Climb on top of these blocks and then perform a large dive, perform a backflip onto the mat. Do this ten times. Punishment for failure: none."
Raden raised an eyebrow. "Having no punishment does sound quite bland, don't you think?" Raden asked.
Auren raised an eyebrow. "Well, what do you suggest the punishment be?"
Raden grinned mischievously. "Parkour X, Parkour Y, edit punishment into rapid dodge sequence."
"Editing punishment into rapid dodge sequence."
"Every time that you fail," Raden explained, "these blocks will now rush at you, trying to at least break a bone if not leave a nasty bruise. You, being the berserker, probably wouldn't mind, and me, being used to this, also wouldn't mind, but normally, we're supposed to dodge the attacking blocks. Hence why it's called a rapid dodge sequence.”
Auren grinned. "Failing parkour means getting even more parkour, huh?"
Raden grinned back at him. “Would you have it any other way?”
“No,” Auren replied, immediately. “More practice is more practice.”
—
Parkour was the one area where Auren struggled to match up with Raden. While healing could make up for a lot in endurance and surviving, there was a lot of hard skill to this kind of running and jumping.
He didn’t even have the necessary range of movement, let alone grip strength or the ability to pull himself up over a wall one-handed at speed. The mutating environment of the training machine provided different obstacles from low jumps to unstable bar crossing or wall running, and Auren sucked at all of them.
Raden was clearly more experienced at this. He almost effortlessly mastered all the parkour sequences, landing his foot exactly where it was needed and executing each maneuver perfectly.
Auren more often just ran into them, mis-timed his evasions, smashed his body into the walls and bounced off. His balance wasn’t terrible, but it was far from up to this standard, and he slipped and fell the one time he made it more than two steps into the sequence.
And each failure came with another penalty dodge sequence. So many dodge sequences. By the end of the hour, it felt like he’d been just practicing his dodge the whole time. Though that one he had gotten slightly better at, training at least some ability to jump side to side with the correct reflexes.
He'd begun to quite like it, despite the penalties. He was definitely starting to see the value of parkour, at least. So many ways to be more flexible and mobile. If he’d been as quick and agile as Raden, he’d have been able to avoid a lot more of that abomination’s attacks.
Unlike Raden or those who would practice for real, he didn't even have to worry about things like twisting his foot or sustaining any damage from falling to the ground. He could recklessly imitate whatever Raden did, even if it got him hurt more often than not. Bruises faded quickly, while the knowledge of how to perform each move—and what to avoid—would only build up more over time. Even if one day was nowhere near enough time, it was a start.
At the end of their session, Auren lay on the ground, having tried for a final backflip dismount but landed hard on his back instead. He wasn’t sure if anything had broken, but he didn’t rush to jump up either.
“Ahaha, finally found something you aren’t an instant master of!” Raden crowed, as his own machine wound down and he checked their respective results. “You might want to switch to actual beginner mode on this one, just to get the move guidance down. No worries, I’m sure you’ll be keeping up with me in no time.” Raden offered a hand and pulled him to his feet.
Auren shook his head. “Don’t slow down on my account, I’ll keep up.” He’d imitate Raden’s moves over and over until he got them right, no matter how many times he broke himself in the process.
Raden gave him a skeptical squint. “You fell over while trying to hop a three-foot fence obstacle. Don’t get me wrong, I respect the dedication, but…”
“More practice is always the solution,” Auren said with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you before you know it.”
Raden laughed. "So, one hour of training dummies and an hour of a duel, what do you say?"
"That does sound nice, yes." Auren hesitated. "And thanks for inviting me to train with you. Today has been incredible."
"What do you mean?” Raden waved away his thanks. “It's very motivating, and it makes me very happy that someone as passionate about training, someone who enjoys it as much as me, exists. We're going to have so much fun this sem.”
Though Auren questioned how much longer Raden would be able to keep up. He was starting to look more than a little out of breath, even if he tried to hide it. Or maybe he was just used to ignoring it.
They left the intermediate gym, handing off the parkour machines to a pair of waiting third-years who weren’t subtle about their disdained glances at Auren for taking up valuable training machine time on an hour of straight failure, but these machines were first come basis without reservations, so they really had no right to complain.
No one said anything, though, and they didn’t let Raden see them looking. Auren was so used to being glared at, he barely even registered it. For someone who was always aiming above his station, such reactions were only to be expected.
Raden led the way to a room in the other branching corridor. There were multiple doors here, more discreetly placed than the training rooms or even the dormitories, but there were still quite a few. Raden immediately entered the first one.
They entered a large room which was completely empty but padded. It was exponentially larger than the smaller training rooms.
Auren looked around at the place eagerly. It was mostly padded and the same as a regular training room, only larger, except this one had a few wooden mannequins at the end of the room and also a few batons and all kinds of weapons to the side.
He did notice that all the weapons were dull.
Raden walked to a rack of batons, grabbing one, and tossing another to Auren. "This room is quite similar to the smaller training rooms, but as you can see, all these weapons are dull. Since these rooms are intended for group practice and not just solo training, it helps prevent anyone from accidentally stabbing or killing each other."
“But not intentionally?”
Raden laughed. He gestured to the wooden dummies. "These are less well armored than the more expensive sort, so bladed weapons also carry the risk of piercing through their sensitive circuits. They're pretty good at sustaining dull damage, but actual sharp damage… yeah, for those kinds of dummies, you'd have to go to the external training ground.”
“If the outside ones are better, is there a reason we’re staying in?”
Raden shrugged. “These rooms are more readily available. The practice monsters in the external training ground are much more sophisticated and are generally monopolized by third or fourth years getting close to graduating and want to get as much experience as they can. Even I am not influential enough to sway some time from the desperate upper-years. They'd sooner fight me than let me take some time. Not that I’m opposed to a good fight, but that usually ends up in neither of us getting the slot, so it’s a net loss. Besides, these dummies are only a little more limited. The only condition is that we have to use blunt weapons. Hardly worth mentioning."
Auren had to agree with that. Limiting weapon style in such a minimal way really wasn’t worth causing a big fuss to get out of.
“Target one,” Raden ordered, "exhibit the strength of a corrupted F-classer!"
“A corrupted classer?” Auren had never heard of such a thing. “I know animals end up corrupted, if they survive being contaminated by dungeons and escape before being fully converted into monsters, but people?”
“Less common, but it happens.” Raden pointed with his baton. “Stay focused.”
The dummy stood up, as if it were alive, its surface morphing into purplish skin with two blood-red eyes. It looked at Raden, then at Auren, and then it leaped at them. It moved as swiftly as the Abomination had, but given its smaller size it was nowhere near as fierce or overwhelming. Especially since there were two of them fighting it.
However, at the end of the day, Auren had only been able to defeat the Abomination because of his Healer class, not because of his skill. So he couldn't quite fully avoid the attacks of the training dummy as it leaped for him first, seemingly judging that he was the weaker target.
Using his baton, he blocked its hand attacks, but then it headbutted him, knocking him back against the padded wall. He managed not to fall, then kicked it, trying to move it back, but it maintained pressure, holding him up against the wall with its body and restricting his range of movement.
At that moment, Raden popped up behind it, hitting it on the head with his baton, making it move slightly to the left.
Auren, with all his force and his baton in hand, flung it at the dummy, and it made another slight movement before he snapped his knee up right in its side.
Raden worked in coordination with him, not making any demands or giving him any orders. Instead, he adapted to Auren's movements, moving to the side whenever Auren kicked or used his baton, ensuring their attacks coordinated with near-perfect efficiency.
Auren had no idea what his ally was going to do, but Raden seemed entirely comfortable with letting him take charge of the combat flow.
And so, their battle continued.
Once more, the target managed to land quite nasty bruises on Auren, all of which healed almost immediately. Unlike the deeper wounds the Abomination had left, which had taken some time to heal, these he only felt; he was pretty sure they didn't even appear on his skin, they healed that fast.
Raden also took a few bruising strikes, but he simply ignored them, fighting the training dummy.
Their battle felt like it was both a second long and an eternity, but then finally, the dummy simply stilled, heading back to the end of the wooden panel on its own.
"Oh right, I did set a one-hour limit," Raden said, turning towards Auren with a slightly manic grin. He was even more obviously out of breath now than before, but as usual that did nothing to deter him. "So, it's time for our duel, wouldn't you say?"
Auren grinned back at him. "I would indeed say so."
