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"Hey, Dog. Where do you think you're headed?"
Ron's five lackeys swiftly surrounded Archie, their imposing statures making him seem to disappear among them. Even though he was overshadowed by them, Archie's voice rang out defiantly.
"Out of my way!"
"HA…HA…" Their laughter reverberated around him, a harsh symphony of ridicule. The ringleader, James, sneered down at Archie,
"Ron wanted us to make sure you never step inside the training building."
Archie returned James's sneer with an icy stare, causing him to hesitate momentarily. But the fear of Ron spurred James into action. He clenched his fist, preparing to strike Archie's midsection.
"Stop, losers!"
Before James could land his punch, a commanding voice stopped him in his tracks. All eyes swiveled towards the source of the interruption.
Archie spotted another member of the Round of Six, a comrade of Rowe, marching towards them with an air of superiority, a sheathed katana firmly in his grasp.
He wielded the katana as if ready to cut down anyone who dared oppose him, his fierce expression underscoring his intent.
"Damn it! It's Ralph!"
James muttered a curse under his breath and, along with his lackeys, made a swift exit at the sight of the advancing figure.
As the figure came into clear view, Archie was stunned. Before him stood a figure of 5 feet 4 inches, shorter than the average academy student. Yet, Archie felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding, as if a dark cloud had descended upon him.
Ralph Hanson, known as Psycho, was a figure everyone avoided, except for the members of the Round of Six, who were too intimidated to ask him to leave their unofficial group.
Psycho, with his golden curls pulled back with a small twine and piercing red eyes, was a spectacle. His fair skin contrasted sharply with his black hoodie and pants, and his gaze was locked on Archie.
He gripped his katana, one hand on the hilt and the other on the sheath, poised for combat.
"Thanks for the assist,"
Archie voiced his gratitude, but Ralph merely returned a frosty gaze.
After a tense moment, Ralph retreated a few steps and issued a stern warning,
"I didn't save you. I wanted to kill that bastard. You were just standing in my way. If I see you with them next time, you'll be in my crosshairs too."
It was unmistakably a warning, or rather, a threat to Archie.
Without uttering another word, Ralph marched towards the building, his hands never straying from his katana.
Archie exhaled a deep sigh. Though nothing had transpired, he felt as if he had been caught in a tempest and tossed around mercilessly.
He couldn't help but observe the stark differences in the personalities of the Round of Six members.
Feeling depleted, Archie trudged towards his 8C ward, located nearly 100 miles away.
Archie was lucky to stumble upon the travellators that would whisk him to his destination with ease.
As he traversed, he marveled at the interior, akin to a vast shopping complex. Each passing second revealed a new chamber, and the glass ceiling permitted sunlight to filter in, creating a vibrant and dynamic atmosphere.
After a short journey, he ascended to the eighth floor via the elevator and navigated his way to a massive indoor area, reminiscent of a stadium, labeled '8C'.
The first person that Archie noticed upon stepping into the stadium was Ralph, his sword carving through the air as he sparred with a dummy.
Archie quickly shifted his gaze and kept his distance. A question gnawed at him,
'Why is he here? He's not in my class.'
He had encountered all his classmates over the past two days, but Ralph wasn't among them. Archie's focus then drifted to a few others who were also not from his class, training with zeal.
Baffled by the unexpected presence of these students, Archie scanned the room in astonishment. He wondered,
'Why are they here? The rules clearly state that students from other classes can't enter different rooms.'
Archie watched the students, their training characterized by unyielding intensity. Their perspiration glistened under the bright lights, and the rhythm of their hearts resonated with each effort. Despite the cool air-conditioned environment, the heat of their determination was tangible.
Each student was immersed in their drills, their focus unwavering. They paid no heed to Archie or acknowledged his presence.
This realization struck Archie profoundly. He now grasped his purpose here. Despite their diverse backgrounds, every student harbored a single goal: to become stronger.
Observing their commitment kindled his own resolve, reinforcing his determination to surpass his limits and grow stronger alongside them.
Archie immediately headed to the weaponry counter to explore new weapons. At Rhoman Academy, students had the freedom to order an unlimited number of weapons, even custom-made ones, during their period. There were no restrictions on the type of weapon one could select.
Archie hadn't made any requests yet, as his combat skills were confined to self-taught techniques from books and videos using a machete.
A machete, while apt for a novice and a lean physique like Archie's, had its limitations. Its restricted reach constantly put the wielder at risk. Moreover, it demanded a fearless and single-minded approach to combat, which didn't align with Archie's strategic style.
Archie had numerous opportunities to enhance his skills during his middle school years through weekend and summer holiday combat training sessions. However, he had opted to concentrate on other professions over Rift Riders.
Archie didn't regret his past indifference, but he chastised himself for dismissing Rift Riders without giving it a fair chance.
Archie approached a corner of the room, where hundreds of weapons graced the wall from floor to ceiling. A ladder was available to reach the higher weapons.
Archie initially contemplated trying a claymore sword. He took a few practice swings, but it didn't feel right. He was striving for a balance between power and agility. So, he experimented with other swords, but none seemed to suit him.
'Is this because I'm used to the machete, it feels wrong with other swords.'
Archie was ensnared in a vortex of uncertainty, each passing moment edging him closer to the looming RBC trial.
So, Archie settled for two daggers for the time being, a weapon he had some familiarity with.
"That won't suit you. You require a sword that matches your weight."
The regal voice with an authoritative tone resonated in Archie's ears, responding to his silent contemplations as if it had access to his thoughts.
Archie whirled around and found himself confronting Cody, his hair neatly pulled back, attired in a white shirt and black leather pants, wielding a Carolingian Sword that left Archie bewildered.
'I thought he was the Arming Sword type that knights use. He seems more like a Viking type, huh!'
Archie pondered, observing as Cody sidestepped him, moved the ladder aside and climbed it.
Archie looked up, intrigued by Cody's actions. Cody retrieved a sword and descended, presenting the sword to Archie.
Archie was startled as Cody proffered him an Arming sword, just as Archie had surmised earlier.
A faint grin danced on Cody's lips at Archie's surprise and he elucidated,
"This sword is lightweight and manageable. It's perfect for both offense and defense. It will enable you to optimize your power and agility given your physique."
Archie hesitated to accept the sword from Cody, suspecting a hidden agenda. Sensing Archie's caution, Cody placed the sword on the ladder next to them, and resumed his training.
"Why are you helping me?"
Archie gathered enough courage to voice his question aloud.
Cody pivoted, a smile adorning his features. His silky hair fluttered with his movements. He replied while fastening his hair back with a small band.
"That pervert Rowe requested me to help you. So, I'm repaying a debt I owed him."
Cody fastened his hair, picked up his sword from the ground, and was about to leave when Archie stopped him with another question,
"Can you help me with sword practice and tell me what I lack?"
Cody spun around, but this time his expression was stern and he retorted in a severe tone,
"I'm not naive enough to help my competitor sharpen his skills."
'Yes, how could I forget, that everyone here is my enemy. I was the one clueless here.'
Archie clenched his fist, fuming at himself for contemplating seeking help when everyone was his adversary.
"But there is another simpleton here."
Cody's voice drew Archie's attention and he gestured to his right.
Archie followed his gaze and saw he was pointing towards Ralph. Cody's voice echoed,
"There is one reckless enough to aid others."