Chapter 60 - Dreadborne Harbinger (Patreon)

Klarion waited a moment for most of the scions and their bodyguards to rush over to the wall and the racks of practice weapons. With how many weapons were orderly stacked, waiting to be used, he wasn’t worried about finding a wooden greatsword for himself. Hatsune, taking his lead, waited with him until the majority selected the weapon they wanted to practice with and returned to the floor, where Professor Thrain was directing them to take positions in various circles with their sparring partners. 

Once the press had cleared somewhat, Klarion moved toward the nearest rack, his eyes scanning the array of wooden weapons. He hesitated a moment, looking over the options before he selected the wooden greatsword furthest to the right. The hilt felt unfamiliar compared to his own weapon, but the weight and balance were close enough. Hatsune chose a nearby longsword, a rough facsimile of her own, but despite her nod at him, Klarion could tell she was not the happiest with her weapon.

As they joined the pairs being directed to their own circles throughout this part of the gymnasium, Professor Thrain motioned for them to begin. “Show me your form, your control, your instincts,” he commanded. “This isn’t a competition — yet. Focus on demonstrating what you know.”

Klarion took a moment to watch as the other scions and their bodyguards began to move. Some were tentative, their strikes lacking confidence, while others attacked their sparring partner with overzealous enthusiasm, their techniques unrefined. A few stood out with practiced stances and deliberate motions, but even the more skilled pairs seemed rough around the edges to him.

Still, Klarion had to admit, that the majority of the scions and their bodyguards appeared to have at least some experience with their chosen weapons. Their movements suggested training, though it varied widely in quality. As he watched closer, some had clearly been taught by professionals, their strikes measured and purposeful. His thoughts went to his own training. The majority of those sparring, he realized, would have been considered novices under the scrutiny of Rolfun. Indeed, the half-ogre’s methods had been brutal but effective, pushing Klarion to his limits with the drills he had run him through and the sparring that ended every session. He well remembered how each swing had been corrected, each stance adjusted until he could feel the weight of the greatsword as an extension of himself. Compared to those grueling sessions, the efforts of his classmates seemed almost… clumsy.

Hatsune shifted beside him, her longsword tightly gripped as she studied the movements of the others. “Most are decent,” she said, her tone thoughtful, “but based on your expression, you’ve had better training, haven’t you?”

Klarion nodded. “My teacher didn’t leave room for mistakes,” he replied, his grip tightening on the wooden greatsword. “It was grueling, but it also has saved my life at least once so far.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” Hatsune said, her eyes gleaming as she turned to him, longsword raised. “Show me what you are capable of.”

Klarion rolled his shoulders, loosening them. “I don’t plan on making this easy for you.”

Hatsune smiled. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Professor Thrain stood off to the far side, his arms folded, watching the sparring pairs closely. He wasn’t offering encouragement or praise; instead, he simply observed, his gaze intense and assessing. Klarion could practically feel his presence even from across the room, but the pressure only increased his desire to demonstrate what Rolfun had taught him.

Hatsune made the first move, lunging toward him with a swift strike that blurred the air between them. Klarion’s instincts flared, his body reacting before his mind could fully process her approach. He sidestepped cleanly, his forearm coming up to block her arm on the follow-through. The force of the strike rattled his arm, and he could feel the sharp precision behind it. This wasn’t just practice — Hatsune wasn’t holding back.

Instead of retreating, Klarion flowed into a counterattack, using the momentum from her blow to drive his leg forward in an attempt to sweep her off her feet. The Leporine, however, was too quick. She twisted mid-stride, the fluidity of her motion carrying her out of the arc of his attack. 

“Nice try,” she said with a smirk. Her eyes gleamed with exhilaration, a reflection of the feeling that Klarion himself was starting to feel.

“Don’t get too cocky,” he responded with a smile.

Before he even finished speaking, Hatsune came at him again, this time faster, her wooden longsword a blur of movement as she unleashed a flurry of strikes. The crack of wood meeting wood rang out as Klarion raised his wooden greatsword to parry her relentless blows. Her strikes were controlled yet aggressive, each one aimed with the precision of someone well-trained and focused. Klarion, wielding the heavier weapon, met her head-on, his movements powerful but not without finesse.

The weeks of grueling training under Rolfun came rushing back to him. Rolfun had been brutal, demanding not just skill but adaptability and endurance. Those lessons came alive as Klarion shifted his stance, deflecting Hatsune’s blade and stepping to the side to counter with a sweeping strike at her midsection.

Hatsune again dodged his swing, her lithe frame shifting with ease. “Not bad,” she said, her tone teasing but edged with respect.

“I’ll get you yet,” Klarion shot back, his smile turning into a full grin.

Their sparring intensified with every passing second. Klarion’s greatsword demanded calculated, forceful strikes, while Hatsune’s lighter longsword allowed her to dart in and out of his range. It was a clash of styles, a test of strength versus speed, and neither was willing to yield an inch.

Klarion lunged forward, bringing his greatsword down in a heavy arc. Hatsune sidestepped, her feet light on the ground as she pivoted and countered with a thrust aimed at his ribs. Klarion twisted, deflecting the strike with the flat of his blade before stepping in close to disrupt her rhythm.

“Getting serious, are we?” Hatsune quipped, her breath coming faster.

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint,” Klarion replied, his voice steady despite being the mounting exertion.

Around them, the other students sparred with varying degrees of competence, but the escalating intensity of Klarion and Hatsune’s duel began to draw attention. One by one, sparring pairs paused to watch as the two combatants moved with ferocity and precision.

Hatsune shifted her grip, feinting high before darting low in an attempt to sweep Klarion’s legs. He countered by stepping back and swinging his greatsword in a broad arc, forcing her to leap back to avoid the strike. The sheer force of his swing ruffled the Leporine’s silver hair as she landed back on her feet. Their movements became sharper, and more aggressive as the room around them faded under their focus on the duel. Klarion pressed forward, using the reach and weight of his wooden greatsword to press his bodyguard onto the defensive. But Hatsune wasn’t easily overwhelmed. She continued to weave through his strikes, her longsword darting out to deliver quick counterattacks that forced Klarion to interrupt his momentum to adapt. Klarion had a feeling in that flurry of blows that she had received training similar to what he had experienced with Rolfun.

The gymnasium grew silent, the sounds of sparring fading as attention fixed on the fierce duel between the scion of House Blacksword and his bodyguard. Even Professor Thrain, who had been quietly observing, now leaned forward, his sharp eyes assessing their every move.

Hatsune suddenly closed the distance, her blade a blur as she aimed a rapid series of strikes at Klarion’s torso. Klarion blocked each one, a long series of thumps blurring into one under the relentless assault. He countered with another heavy overhead swing, which Hatsune again sidestepped, using the momentum to aim a slicing blow at his side.

Klarion threw his body to the left, narrowly avoiding her blade, and retaliated with a sweeping kick. Hatsune jumped high, flipping gracefully over his leg and landing behind him. She swung her longsword at his back, but Klarion spun, raising his greatsword to block just in time.

The speed of their clash reverberated through the gymnasium, drawing gasps from some of the onlookers. Gathered scions looked on in awe, murmurs spreading as they marveled at the sheer intensity of the fight. Even the professor’s stern expression began shifting into one of approval. Their sparring was no longer just a demonstration of skill — it had become a battle of wills.

Sweat dripped from their brows, their breathing heavy but steady as they pushed each other to the limit. Klarion could feel the strain in his muscles, the weight of his greatsword demanding more from him with every swing. But he welcomed the challenge, enjoying the thrill of exchanging blows with someone so skilled. Their sparring reached a fever pitch, the line between practice and a real fight blurring as they fought with everything they had.

“Enough!”

Klarion and Hatsune froze mid-motion, their weapons poised for another strike. Slowly, they lowered their practice weapons at Professor Thrain’s command, their chests heaving as they caught their breath.

The gymnasium erupted into applause, the gathered students and bodyguards cheering for the display they had just witnessed. A flashing icon appeared in his vision, but Klarion ignored it for now as he glanced at Hatsune, her face flushed with exertion but lit with a triumphant grin. As the intensity of their sparring subsided, he found his gaze lingering on the Leporine. Her hair, slightly tousled from the fight, framed her delicate features, and the faint sheen of sweat on her skin caught the light, adding an almost ethereal glow to her. Her eyes, sharp and vibrant, still sparkled with the exhilaration of the battle. Despite her fierce demeanor moments ago, there was a striking elegance about her that made her beauty impossible to ignore.

His chest tightened as he realized he was staring. He turned his gaze away, trying to focus on anything else — the wooden greatsword in his hands, the scattered scions and bodyguards in the room — but her image remained vivid in his mind. Before he could think about it further, he noticed that Professor Thrain was coming towards them. Klarion straightened instinctively, gripping his practice weapon a bit tighter.

“Well done,” the professor began, his grizzled tone carrying both authority and approval. “You both clearly have seen some training, though there is room for improvement. Girl, your agility is an asset, but you’re still hesitating when it comes to committing fully to some of your attacks. That hesitation will cost you against an opponent who won’t give you a second chance.”

Hatsune’s ears twitched, and she nodded, though her lips pressed into a thin line. “Understood, Professor,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with frustration.

Professor Thrain raised an eyebrow, his keen gaze catching the flicker of dissatisfaction in her demeanor. “Something on your mind?” he prompted, his tone curious rather than chastising.

Hatsune hesitated before replying. “It’s just… the weapon doesn’t feel right,” she admitted, her grip tightening on the hilt of the wooden longsword. “It’s nothing like what I was trained with. The balance, the length — everything feels off. It threw me off my rhythm.”

The professor stroked his chin thoughtfully, his rugged features betraying no judgment. “Weapons can be an extension of ourselves,” he mused, “but no tool is ever perfect. Still, it’s not the weapon’s fault if the wielder fails to adapt.”

Hatsune’s ears flicked in mild irritation, though she didn’t argue.

“That said,” Professor Thrain continued, his tone softening, “if the weapon truly isn’t working for you, then it’s worth addressing. Instead of struggling against it, work with your scion to obtain one that suits your style. Once you have such a blade, you can come here to the Martial Hall to have a practice version created for you to train with.”

Hatsune blinked, caught off guard by the advice. “You think I should make a new one?” she asked. Klarion couldn’t tell the meaning underneath what she was saying, but her tone was heavy with significance.

“Yes,” Professor Thrain nodded. “Given you are still fresh to your new role, and the year has only just started, there remains time for you to attain the weapon you want to replace the longsword.”

Hatsune glanced over at Klarion, who had been keeping quiet as she spoke with the Professor. “I’ll bring it up with him,” she said, her voice steadier now.

The professor’s focus shifted to Klarion. “As for you, Blacksword, your strength is evident, but you rely too much on overpowering your opponent. The greatsword demands control as much as it does power. Focus on precision. Make every swing count.”

Klarion nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir.”

Professor Thrain’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the way Klarion was standing. “Tell me, Blacksword,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “have you had a teacher for the greatsword before? As much as it pains me to say, not every scion that enters the Martial Hall has had training in the past.”

“Yes, a half-ogre named Rolfun trained me for a few weeks.”

At the mention of Rolfun’s name, a flash of recognition crossed the professor’s face, followed by a small smile. “Rolfun, you say? That explains a bit. He’s one of the most promising greatsword wielders of the younger generations that I’ve observed in this sector’s recent inter-House tournaments — a master of balance and raw power. He’s done well to get you started on the path of being a proper wielder of the greatsword.”

Klarion felt a surge of pride at the compliment, not just for himself but for his former mentor. “Thank you, sir. He was a tough teacher, but I learned a lot from him.”

Professor Thrain nodded approvingly. “Good. Honor his teachings, but remember, there’s always more to learn. Strength tempered by discipline is what separates a swordsman from a brute. Keep that in mind as you train in the coming class sessions. Now, I need to give some time to the others before we break for the day.”

“Yes, sir,” Klarion said again as the professor left to give feedback to the next set of sparring partners. 

Since the professor indicated they were all but done, Klarion returned his wooden greatsword to the wall where it had previously hung. He turned to Hatsune, who was casually inspecting her wooden longsword, her movements as graceful and deliberate as they had been during their sparring. Her ears twitched slightly, a tell he had come to recognize as a sign she was mulling something over.

“That was fun,” Klarion began, his voice carrying the warmth of genuine appreciation. “You’re quick — quicker than I expected, honestly. And you hit hard, too.”

Hatsune glanced at him, her considering examination of her weapon shifting to one of amusement. “You’re not too bad yourself,” she admitted grudgingly. “Your foundation with the greatsword is solid. Better than I would’ve guessed, considering how awkward those weapons can be in inexperienced hands.”

Klarion chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Like I said, its the result of some good training with a better teacher,” he said, thinking back to Rolfun’s grueling sessions. “Though, I notice the professor said you weren’t going all out.”

“The professor has a good eye.” The Leporine paused, tapping the wooden blade against the floor. “If I’d had a practice version of the weapon I trained with, I’d have beaten you.”

Klarion tilted his head. “What kind of weapon are we talking about? Something more specialized?”

Hatsune hesitated, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing how much to say. Finally, she exhaled and rested the tip of the wooden longsword on the ground. “My family trained me with a blade similar to a longsword but… different. It’s lighter, more flexible, with a curve, and just as lethal in the right hands. My father and brothers taught me — every strike, every block, every move burned into me through hours of repetition. Some of it transfers over to the longsword, but not all of it.”

Klarion nodded thoughtfully, filing away her words. “If your weapon is so important to your fighting style, we should try to get you one. It only makes sense for you to fight with something you’re comfortable with.”

Hatsune’s ears twitched again, while she took on a look of skepticism. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “Blades like that aren’t exactly common, especially here.”

“Well, what if we made one?” Klarion offered, his tone earnest. “I’m no blacksmith, but I’m sure we could find—”

Hatsune interrupted with a short laugh. “You? Forge a blade?” She shook her head, though there was no malice in her voice as she continued, “Still, you might be onto something. It’d be impossible to find one ready-made, but… if you’re serious, we might be able to forge one ourselves.”

Klarion’s brows rose. “Ourselves? You know how to forge weapons?”

“Yes,” she admitted, a touch of pride creeping into her voice. “My brothers and I were taught by my father and uncles. I still have much to learn, but I know enough to make a simple blade like what I am used to wielding. I’d need your help, though. And if we’re doing this…”

She trailed off, looking at him with a complicated expression.

“What?” Klarion prompted.

“Before I say, I want you to answer a question for me. Honestly.”

“Ok…”

Hatsune looked around, and confirming that all the other scions and their bodyguards were out of earshot, she leaned in close to Klarion. “You’re serious about this?” she asked. “About my teaching you the sword art, Whispers of Black Steel?”

Klarion met her gaze without hesitation. “I wouldn’t have said so yesterday if I hadn’t meant it. I want to learn. So long as it will build upon what we are learning here. You can teach me, right?”

“Putting aside the fact that I will be learning it by myself at the same time,” Hatsune said, her ears dropping slightly as she continued, “Yes, I could. And it won’t conflict if we do it right. But it is not that simple. From my first look into the fragment we have, Whispers of Black Steel is meant for a few specific kinds of swords and not the kind of greatsword you’re using. If you really want to do this, you’ll need to forge a weapon suited to the style — a blade that’s not just an oversized club but something more refined.” She hesitated, then apparently decided to change what she was going to say. “There are other reasons you need to personally forge your own weapon, but that is for later.”

“Alright,” Klarion nodded, his determination to get stronger unshaken. “Then we’ll forge two weapons then.”

Hatsune nodded, her expression pleased. “It won’t be easy, but I think it’ll be worth it. A weapon you’ve put your own effort into forging… it becomes more than just a tool. It’s an extension of you. Besides,” she added with a playful smile, “it’ll give us an excuse to spar even more once they’re done.”

Klarion laughed, feeling a spark of excitement and something more ignite within him. “You just want another chance to prove you can beat me.”

“And what if I do?” Hatsune quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of losing.”

“Not a chance,” Klarion said. “But I’ll warn you now — I don’t plan on holding back. When you’re lying on your back, looking up at me, you’ll know I mean it.”

Hatsune’s playful smile faltered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as her ears twitched furiously. “Wh-what?” she stammered, her composure cracking.

Klarion’s own face turned as red as hers when the implication finally hit him. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” he sputtered, waving his hands in frantic denial.

Thankfully, Professor Thrain’s commanding voice cut through the room. “Everyone, gather round!” the professor called, clapping his hands. “There’s one more thing I want to address before we finish.”