Several more duels had already taken place, none catching the same amount of attention as the first. It seemed that Dominic was an outlier, rather than the standard much to Zephyr's relief. If everyone was as strong as Dominic, it would be quite difficult to rely on the duel system to remain in the academy. From what he observed today, most students shouldn't be an issue.
The sun was beginning to set as another pair of opponents began to make their way to the center of the field.
'Isn't that…?'
One of the pilots was that black haired girl that caught his attention earlier in the day. She piloted a mech that Zephyr didn't quite recognize. At first glance, it was a medium class mech with thin armor. In fact, some areas had no armor at all, further reducing its weight. It was a customized mech that emphasized speed similar to Dominic Folin's Knight, only in an even more extreme configuration. If Zephyr had to describe its appearance, it looked like a skeleton with armor protecting the cockpit and joints.
Its weaponry seemed to be a Type-50 Ballistic Cannon, a sniper rifle essentially. It was quite a heavy weapon as well, unsuitable for duels in an open field like this.
There was no cover, nor was there enough time to gain enough distance to make full use of the long range of her weapon.
Zephyr himself specialized in unconventional methods of combat, but he just couldn't figure out how the black-haired girl was going to win in an environment that favored her opponent to such a large degree.
Speaking of her opponent, they piloted a mid-range rifleman mech; a customized version of the military's Cannoneer C0-4 model. It was considered a medium mech, but some argue that it was borderline a heavy mech.
"Hey Christina, do you recognize that mech?" He pointed towards the mech now standing across from the Cannoneer.
Christina mulled for a few seconds before answering.
"It should be a foreign model. If I recall correctly, its model name is the Spectre SP-01. It is native to our neighboring state, the Faraday Theocracy."
"What are its special traits?"
"From what I remember, it's a unique medium-class mech capable of wielding weapons normally only heavy mechs can utilize."
Zephyr narrowed his eyes.
'If that model is able to wield weapons from heavy mechs, it must at least have some degree of capability in a melee role as well. So why is she using that weapon instead of something more suitable to the environment?'
The instructor's voice interrupted his thoughts as he snapped back into focus.
"This will be the last duel today! Everyone please get ready to board the sky carrier soon. With that in mind, the duel will now commence!"
Without delay, both mechs sprang into action, the Cannoneer opting to gain some distance for optimal use of its weapon. The Spectre's back thrusters roared to life as it began to perform a mad dash to shrink the distance between the two.
'Wait…shrink the distance?'
With how lightly armored the Spectre was, one or two shots would be able to put it out of commission, yet she was dashing towards her opponent?! Zephyr couldn't believe his eyes.
The speed of the Spectre was incredible compared to its opposition, the bulky and sluggish Cannoneer. With every second, it drew closer as several shots were fired from the Cannoneer, none hitting their mark.
It was a common belief that the further away a target is, the more likely it is for shots to miss. In a sense, it was true due to the constantly changing factors such as wind and bullet travel time. However, that only applies to stationary targets. Moving targets are actually much easier to hit the further they are away. The shooter only needed to adjust their aim slightly to keep track of their target. The closer the target is, larger corrections need to be made in response.
Currently, the girl piloting the Spectre was taking advantage of that fact by getting closer.
'Still, it's risky.'
This strategy was normally used by melee mechs when facing ranged mechs. The Spectre's weapon can only fire once before it needs to be reloaded. The Cannoneer had a semi-automatic rifle that would be able to output ten times as many shots as the Type-50 Ballistic Cannon. If the girl can't land her shot in a critical area, this duel is as good as over.
It was only around a minute into the duel and the Spectre was point blank with the Cannoneer, all from the skillful strafing and high mobility of the thinly armored mech. In the next moment, the Spectre raised its weapon…
'Is she going to fire point blank? No wait, the Cannoneer is also aiming!'
If the Spectre missed, it would be in trouble. Even if it hit, the Cannoneer's thick armor might prevent a one-shot takedown. It would certainly take a lot of damage, but the thick armor would at least prevent it from falling in a single blow.
Just as the Cannoneer was about to fire, the skeletal frame of its opponent swung. The reinforced barrel from the Type-50 knocked the trajectory of its opponent's aim to the side as the shot rang out narrowly passing by the Spectre's left shoulder.
Zephyr blinked a couple times before he rubbed his eyes.
'Did she just swing her rifle like an iron club?'
It appeared like her enemy was also surprised as the Spectre continued its onslaught. The battle had somehow turned into a close quarters fight, where every shot the Cannoneer shot, its rifle would be forced to change trajectory from every swing of the opponent's cannon.
Zephyr glanced at the other observers, their faces of disbelief mirroring his own.
Shot after shot, the pilot in the Cannoneer grew increasingly desperate until an empty click sounded from their rifle.
They had run out of ammo.
Instead of aiming for the barrel of the enemy's rifle, with one last swing of the Type-50, the Spectre had toppled its opponent, aiming its battered rifle directly at the heavily armored mech's torso.
He felt his heart pounding loudly in his chest.
'What a monster.'
The field fell silent, as even the instructor struggled to find the words to speak.
"T-The winner is Nia Sterling…! The first dueling day is henceforth over!"
Seconds later both pilots stepped out of their cockpits, the Cannoneer's pilot wearing a nasty scowl on his face. Nia Sterling had an apathetic expression on her face, as if her unbelievable feat of winning a close quarters duel in an obviously disadvantaged matchup only proved to be a simple matter.
"Who is she?" Zephyr pondered aloud.
"Are you talking about Nia Sterling?" Christina asked.
He nodded.
"Don't you recognize her surname? It's taught in history even back in junior high." Christina answered with a small smile.
'Sterling? Now that she mentions it, it does sound familiar."
Zephyr followed her with his eyes as she began to make her way back to the carrier, the other students showering gazes of admiration.
"Sterling…do you mean one of the four major conglomerate groups from the Terran Federation?"
"Bingo."
He fell silent.
It didn't make any sense. During the initial period humanity began to reach for the stars, they were on the brink of extinction due to the discovery of alien forces. Supposedly, there used to be several nations occupying the home planet of mankind. This led to an uncoordinated defense and slow development of necessary technologies crucial to their survival.
In the end, four economic groups were formed to unite the entirety of humanity, their names even now were synonymous with human ingenuity and strength.
Hathaway, Sterling, Rothwell, and Krishiner. These four power blocks ruled the Terran Federation: a Tier 2 Superstate.
It was a behemoth that a Tier 1 State like the Rust Republic could never hope to match. That being the case, why was one of their own members in such a primitive region of human space? If anything, the facilities here would be laughable to someone of her status. It just didn't make any sense.
"Are you curious about why she's here?"
"You read my mind."
"Let's talk while we rejoin our cohort in the carrier." Christina suggested.
***
Zephyr and Christina sat next to one another as the carrier took off, making its way back to the academy.
"Where should I begin?" She mulled slowly brushing back her hair that she had let down earlier.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Christina began to explain.
"The Sterlings are known for their military strength, as they are the group responsible for nearly 75 percent of the defenses in the Terran Federation. They have produced the highest number of ace pilots and currently boast 65 out of the 112 known Thrones."
Zephyr's gaze hardened.
Thrones were a level of pilots even stronger than ace pilots. Each one is said to be able to change the course of a battle, wielding the strength of several divisions in a single mech.
"Supposedly, this was due to the fact that they always sent their young pilots to the outer rim, forcing them to climb up society with their own achievements. They do still enjoy a good number of genetic enhancements though."
In theory it was a good system. Individuals who held high positions of power from their own achievements were certainly stronger than those simply appointed into power. Statistically, the percentage of people who managed to immigrate into a stronger state was below one percent. The requirements to obtain citizenship to a normal Tier 2 State as someone from a Tier 1 State were immense. Accomplishing it through civilian means was nearly impossible. Powerful mech pilots were able to pass through with lower requirements, but it required putting one's life on the line. It was a risk most people were unwilling to take.
"Nia Sterling seems to be of direct descent though. She was able to inherit the name after all. Do the Sterlings really not care what happens to members of their direct line?" Zephyr inquired, curious.
Christina wagged her finger, clicking her tongue in response.
"It's not that they don't care. It's more like a competition for a chance of succession. The current patriarch of the Sterling group is nearing 400 years old now. It's said that he has fathered several thousand children by now, each vying to take his place. I'm assuming Nia Sterling is simply one of his many children, aiming for the chance at succession."
'S-Several thousand children…'
The thought of a single man fathering so many children almost made him want to puke.
"I'm guessing he has several wives then…?"
"Yep. Hundreds of them in fact. Due to his status, he has no trouble finding new wives whenever he wishes."
Zephyr laughed dryly.
'I guess that's why he doesn't mind sending his children on their own to the outer rim. Although it was cruel, it was an easy way to weed out the weak while investing in the strong.'
"Nia Sterling is only one of the many out of her siblings currently trying to make a name for themselves in the outer rim. Who knows, maybe she'll be the next heir to the Sterlings."
'Who knows…huh.'
Maybe it would be a good idea to get acquainted with her. Regardless of her background, her piloting skills had impressed Zephyr. It never hurts to get to know someone of that caliber. Right?