Morning light filtered through Mike's window, accompanied by the distant ring of hammer on anvil. The sound pulled him from dreams of floating swords and endless mana pools.
He dressed quickly in his borrowed clothes, grimacing at how the shirt stretched across his shoulders. First order of business: proper gear that actually fit.
Adrian waited in the corridor, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Dark circles under his eyes suggested sleep had been elusive.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Mike asked.
"Kept thinking about the training arena." Adrian fell into step beside him. "And about what you saidâgetting stronger."
They followed a servant's directions through the castle's lower levels, the hammering growing louder with each turn. The corridor opened into a courtyard where smoke billowed from a massive forge. Heat rolled out in waves, carrying the sharp tang of hot metal and coal.
Allen the armorer stood near a workbench, examining sheets of leather. His scarred hands moved with practiced precision as he sorted materials.
"Ah, the giant arrives." Allen's eyes crinkled with amusement. "And he brought a friend."
"This is Adrian," Mike said. "He needs equipment too."
Allen's gaze swept over Adrian with professional assessment. "Hunter background. Lean build, favors right side. Spear work?"
Adrian nodded, surprised.
"Thought so. Stance gives it away. And I also talked with the knights who fought alongside you." Allen laughed and gestured to an assistant. "Fetch the reinforced leather set from storage. Third rack, should fit well enough until we can do custom work."
While the assistant scurried off, Allen turned back to Mike. âThe lord said a leather armor would be good for you. Need to keep that speed,â he said. âYour armor will take another day. The lord ordered to give you the good stuff, nothing less. But I've got padding and basic protection ready for training."
He produced a set of padded training gear, utilitarian but well-made. Mike pulled on the vest, relieved when it didn't bind across his chest.
"Now, about weapons." Allen's expression turned curious. "My lord mentioned you had specific needs?"
"I need something I can deploy quickly and control remotely." Mike demonstrated with a loose leather strap, making it rise and weave through the air. "My abilities let me manipulate objects, but I need the right tools."
Allen's eyes sharpened, watching the strap dance. "Interesting. Very interesting. Follow me."
He led them deeper into the courtyard where a second forge roared. A mountain of a man worked the bellows, muscles rippling as he maintained steady rhythm. This had to be Master Aldwin.
"Aldwin!" Allen called. "Got a puzzle for you."
The smith finished his current strike before turning. His beard was singed at the edges, eyes bright with the peculiar intensity of a master craftsman.
"The Levelâ the warrior who killed the Behemoth?" Aldwin's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"The same. Show him what you need," Allen said to Mike.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Mike repeated his demonstration, adding details about weight requirements and deployment speed. Aldwin watched in silence, occasionally grunting or nodding.
"Flail," Aldwin said suddenly. "You need the weight and impact of a flail head, but without the chain and handle."
He moved to his workbench, picking up a partly-finished mace head. "See this? Now imagine attachment points here, here, and here." His thick finger traced patterns on the metal. "Your threads connect directly to these rings."
Mike's eyes lit up. Simple, brutal, effective. "Multiple heads? Different weights?"
"Exactly." Aldwin was already pulling metal stock from shelves. "Some with spikes for penetration, others smooth for crushing blows. Each with multiple attachment points for better control."
"The spiked ones," Adrian interjected. "Won't they be dangerous to carry?"
Allen frowned, then his eyes lit up. "Sheaths. Like blade covers but for the heads." He grabbed a piece of leather. "Quick-release covers that protect from the spikes."
"How would I carry them?" Mike asked.
Allen studied Mike's broad frame. "Belt won't work, oo much weight bouncing around. You need..." He paused, thinking. "Cross-body straps. Like bandoliers but reinforced."
He sketched quickly on a scrap of leather. "Two straps crossing your chest in an X pattern. Loops positioned for quick access. Weight distributed across your shoulders and back."
"The heads would sit here and here?" Mike traced the design. "Three on each strap?"
"With the protective covers, yes. Spiked ones up high, smooth ones lower for faster deployment." Allen was already measuring Mike's torso. "Quick-release clips so you can grab and throw in one motion."
"Start with six heads," Mike decided. "Two light, two medium, two heavy. Mix of spiked and smooth."
"Give me till tomorrow," Aldwin said, already reaching for his hammer. "Allen, you handle the carrying system?"
The armorer nodded. "Cross-straps with protective sheaths. He'll be ready for war."
The two craftsmen dove into their work with obvious enthusiasm. Mike caught fragments of discussion about weight distribution and spike angles before Adrian tugged his sleeve.
"They'll be at that for a while," Adrian said. He'd changed into his new armor. Reinforced leather that moved well with his lean frame. "Want to check out the training arena?"
Mike nodded, though he kept glancing back at the animated craftsmen. Seeing masters at work reminded him of his old life, watching experts solve complex problems. The familiar made the fantastic seem more real somehow.
They found the training arena in the castle's east wing. The entrance was modest, just a reinforced door with unusual symbols carved into the frame. But Mike's enhanced perception picked up the energy humming through the walls.
"Sir Mike?" A castle servant appeared, as if summoned by their presence. "Lord Aldric mentioned you'd be using the facility. There are rules."
"Of course there are," Mike muttered.
The servant either didn't hear or chose to ignore the comment. "The arena maintains heightened mana and stamina regeneration within its boundaries. However, it cannot provide you with more mana than what your mana pool can hold. Each session can be no longer than four hours, but since this is your first time I will ask you to leave after two. Just to make sure you do not suffer any ill consequences from the arenaâs use.â, he said. â Pressing the symbols on the walls will summon apparitions of enemy combatants. They cannot inflict any damage but will sustain an infinite amount. Some of them simulate different types of combat and will inform you verbally of the consequences of the combat rather than actually inflicting damage. They may be different levels, depending on who summons themâ, he said with a glance towards Adrian.
He opened the door, revealing a circular chamber perhaps thirty feet across. The walls gleamed with the same symbols as the door frame, pulsing with soft blue light. The floor was marked with training circles and what looked like obstacle positions.
"The mana regeneration alone makes it worth the trip." Mike stepped into the arena, feeling the energy wash over him like stepping into warm sunlight.
Adrian followed, eyes wide. "I can feel it. Like..." He paused, searching for words. "Like breathing after holding your breath too long."
"Perfect. That's exactly what I need." Mike studied the symbols on the walls. Each one pulsed with different intensity. "I've got abilities I've barely touched because they drink mana like a fraternity pledge. Now's my chance to actually use them."
Adrian gave him a puzzled look then said "Want me to go first?"
"No, watch this. I need to test something." Mike selected one of the brightest symbols, its crimson glow almost painful to look at. The air shimmered, and a warrior materialized, a towering figure in ornate plate armor, wielding a greatsword that radiated power.