Damion watched as the Red haired student walked away, not bothering to stop him.
He could see the sheathed sword on his back, so he recognized him as a fellow Swordsman. There was also an eye patch over his left eye, and Damion could only wonder how he fought.
'Maybe he has an ability that helps him in that area.' Damion thought.
'Also, he believes me to be his rival?' Damion thought mockingly. 'Why would he expect me to get stronger because of him? I'm getting stronger because I wish to be free, and if he thinks he's going to stand in my way, I'll just cut him down.'
Damion focused his attention back on the system, and he chuckled. 'He might have made me pissed for a second, but he helped me make a choice.'
He stared at the skill description of Swordsmanship, and he raised his head back up to look at the wall on the other side.
Rows of wooden weapons lined it, and they all had the same air surrounding them.
They were made from the same material and Beast Cores, which all have the same strengths and weaknesses, ignoring the weapon's personal strength and weaknesses that is.
It wasn't a new thing for weapons to be forged from the body of Beasts, or carved into fearsome Armors and various equipment. It was even said that there was some equipment forged from Demons and Extraterrestrials bodies, but how true that was, was unknown.
Damion had never held a weapon before, and that was because he was poorer than a church rat.
He was an orphan, a bullied one at that. No one wanted to associate themselves with him or even trade with him, if he ever got money, so he lived a life of infamy with heavy ostracization.
Damion smiled when he recollected, and the smile on his face turned devilish instantly.
He got up to his feet and walked across the hall, watching as Hakuro broke arm after arm with his technique, only for the students to be healed back by a clinic personnel on standby and repeat the process again.
It didn't take long, and he was soon standing before the wall littered with weapons.
He picked a sword, testing its weight and balance in his hand.
"Hmmm… heavy," he concluded and placed the sword back.
He moved on to another side and began testing more swords. He picked up a Tang dao, and he felt that it was okay, but okay wasn't what he wanted, he needed a perfect weapon for his fighting style.
He moved on to a Miao dao, and the same problem recurred, its balance wasn't to his satisfaction.
Next he picked up a Nodachi. This sword was close to perfection, but still not enough.
"A Katana… No. A Zweihänder… Definitely not. A Claymore… No… No… No."
Eventually Damion came to the end of the sword section, and a deep frown formed on his face.
His purple eyes glowed with what seemed to be anger mixed with a tint of dejection, yet, he didn't seem to have given up… at least not yet.
He looked to the side, staring at the other weapons.
Damion was confused when he saw more weapons that looked like swords, but weren't in the sword section. Instead, they were placed under the knife section.
With his eyebrow raised in surprise, he ignored them and walked to the opposite end of the sword section.
Passing by the Japanese sword segment, he took another look at the swords again, then he picked an O-Katana.
"I guess I'll have to make do with this," he said.
He went to a corner and began swinging his sword around, performing simple and basic movement techniques and swings.
He didn't know much about the sword and had only been chanced to practice with one when he was younger, so he only knew the basics about it, what to do and what not to do.
Although he might be able to swing the sword around, that didn't mean that he knew how to progress by himself, he still needed someone to guide him to a certain point, before he was left to do as he pleased.
Damion stopped to breathe and looked around, he didn't find the student who had challenged him in the building, and though he didn't care at first, the idea of losing to the student made him riled up, and he really wanted to defeat him and make his dominion known.
He chuckled lightly and resumed swinging his sword, but before he could do that, he noticed some students sitting in corners and holding onto their arms with vacant expressions.
They appeared to have been traumatized by their most recent experience with Hakuro. They had gone through the process of their arms breaking more than once, and they felt pain that most would never feel in their entire lives.
Their spirit was broken, and they nearly turned into empty husks.
Hakuro didn't care about this. If they couldn't handle a bit of pain, then how were they going to face the Demons and Extraterrestrials in battle?
All other students who remained sane were too tired to continue, and they didn't even know when they all sat down by the wall and began reminiscing.
Damion was now the only one left swinging his sword in a corner.
"Your form is terrible and your swings lack intent." A voice drifted into Damion's ears.
His ears perked up, and he turned to Hakuro.
"Come up here," Hakuro said from the stage, and Damion obliged.
He walked briskly and stopped right before Hakuro with his sword in hand.
There was silence for a moment, before Hakuro spoke again, this time, with more power in his voice.
"What's the purpose of fighting?" He asked.
Damion paused. He definitely hadn't expected a question, and if he was, it wasn't this.
"The purpose of fighting? To show who's stronger of course," Damion replied.
"That's what everyone says, but no," Hakuro uttered. "Not everyone who's strong wins a battle. Think again."
Damion's mind spun, and he felt a headache coming.
Hakuro had a valid point there. He had defeated Toby, his roommate, and he wasn't as strong as he was yet. He had weaved in the element of surprise into his attack and took him off guard.
Also, there were some situations where a strong person was defeated by the smarts of his opponent who didn't have great strength in the other areas.
"Then doesn't that make the weak person actually the strong one?" Damion deliberated.
However, if he looked at it from another point, he would understand that being strong doesn't necessarily have to be physical strength, Ability strength or the number of warriors in the army one had. Someone could be strong in their own department.
'But we are speaking of combat.' Damion claimed.
His thoughts flowed from one element to another, thinking of the war between the Human Race, Demon Race and Extraterrestrials, and he came to a conclusion.
"The purpose of fighting is to come out on top, regardless of your strength."