Chapter 89 - Enrolling Process
Amukelo exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he thought it through. The personal training sounded tempting—who wouldn't want direct attention from an instructor?—but the price was just too steep. He shook his head slightly and said, "In that case, I have no other option than going with the group class. I simply couldn't pay that much on a monthly basis."
Bral, leaning casually against the counter, smirked. "Yet."
Amukelo glanced at him and returned the smirk. "Yeah... yet."
Ewan nodded in approval. "Good choice. You'll still get plenty of training, and you'll be learning alongside others. That's just as important as one-on-one instruction in the long run."
Then he turned to Bao. "And what about you? Now that you know the price, do you think it's worth it for someone who won't get the full benefits of close-combat training?"
Bao crossed her arms, her sharp eyes steady. "I'll join and see for myself. It's not like I can upgrade my gear with the pocket change we found in that cave. And better skills are way more important than better gear. So yes, I'll join."
Ewan gave an approving nod. "That's the right mindset. Gear can be replaced. Skills last." He gestured for them to step closer to the counter. "Alright. Let's get you both officially registered."
He pulled out two thick sheets of parchment, inked with delicate, swirling rune markings. "First, sign these papers, and then place your hand over them for ten seconds. This will ensure that we have your names and mana signatures in our database, so we can prevent any kind of fraud. It also registers your participation in our training program, so there's no confusion about who belongs here."
Amukelo took the quill and signed his name, watching Bao do the same beside him. Afterward, they both placed their hands over the parchment as instructed.
A strange sensation pulsed through Amukelo's hand, a subtle warmth spreading from his palm as the runes on the paper reacted. His name glowed faintly, then the glow faded as the magic settled.
Ewan nodded in satisfaction. "Alright. You're both officially enrolled."
Amukelo flexed his fingers, still feeling the lingering warmth from the paper. "That was... weird."
"You get used to it," Idin said with a shrug. "Better than dealing with mountains of paperwork."
Ewan gathered up the parchments and tucked them away before reaching into a drawer and pulling out two small metal tokens. "Here. These are your trainee passes. Keep them on you at all times. They'll grant you access to the training areas and will be required for participation in any organized sparring matches."
Bao took hers first, examining the thin bronze plate with runic engravings on it. Amukelo followed suit, running a finger over the cool metal.
Ewan leaned on the counter. "Next step—your entry matches. We'll need about an hour to prepare and find you suitable opponents based on the answers you gave earlier."
Amukelo raised a brow. "We're fighting someone on the first day?"
Ewan chuckled. "Of course. Training isn't about just swinging a sword at a dummy. We need to see where you stand. Plus, sparring is the best way to learn. You don't truly know your weaknesses until someone exploits them."
Amukelo nodded, already feeling the excitement creep into his chest. It had been a long time since he had fought against a skilled opponent who wasn't trying to kill him outright. This would be different—structured, focused.
Ewan turned to Bral and Idin. "While we get things set up, show them around the facility. Go over what I showed you when you joined."
Bral gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."
Ewan ignored him. "It'll shorten the process, and we can get to the matches earlier." He then glanced around the near-empty facility. "Honestly, I hope there are people here who can match your skill levels right now... but at this time of day, I doubt it. Not many people train in the morning."
He then gave them a parting nod before disappearing through a side door, leaving them alone.
Bral clapped his hands together. "Alright, tour time. Let's go, rookies."
They entered the main hall, which was wide and open, the stone walls lined with torches that flickered even though the space was well-lit by high windows. The hall split into three directions—two doors on either side, with a long corridor stretching ahead.
Idin motioned toward the doors. "Alright, first things first. There are two rooms you'll need to know about, plus that corridor up ahead. Each serves a different purpose."
Bral led them toward the first door, gripping the handle before pushing it open. "This," he said with a grin, "is where you get your practice weapons."
The room beyond was filled with racks of wooden and dulled metal weapons, lined up in neat rows. The scent of freshly polished wood mixed with the faint tang of iron from the dulled weapons. Various swords, from longswords to broadswords, rested beside daggers, spears, and even some heavier weapons like training axes and hammers. Everything here was meant for practice, either blunt enough to avoid serious injury or crafted from reinforced wood to mimic the weight of real steel.
Amukelo stepped inside, his eyes widening as he took in the variety. It was far more than what he'd ever trained with.
Bral smirked at his reaction. "Yeah, it's a lot. You'll find whatever suits your style here. Doesn't matter if you use a sword, daggers, or even if you want to experiment with something new."
Amukelo ran his fingers over the hilt of a wooden longsword, testing its balance. "Do people really use all of these?"
Idin chuckled. "You'd be surprised. Some people like to train with weapons they don't even fight with, just to broaden their skills. Helps with adaptability."
Bao stepped forward and grabbed a wooden dagger, flipping it in her hand before nodding approvingly. "I like the feel of these."
Bral nodded. "Alright, you've seen enough of this one. Let's move on."
They exited the training weapon room and headed toward the second door. Bral gestured to it before pushing it open. "This is where you leave your things. Word of advice—don't leave anything valuable here."
The room was smaller than the last but still spacious, with several wooden hooks and benches lined up against the walls. A few cloaks and shirts hung loosely, some folded in neat piles while others looked like they had been left there for weeks. In the middle, three tables were placed, where a few people sat eating meals or simply resting.
Bral leaned against the doorframe. "You don't want to mix this up with a changing room—it's just a place to drop your heavy clothing and get ready for training. Most people show up already dressed for practice, so it's mostly used to store cloaks and gear. You can also eat here or wait between sessions."
Amukelo observed the setup, noting how casual it was. There was no unnecessary luxury—everything here had a purpose.
One of the people sitting at the table, a man with short dark hair and a rough demeanor, looked up as they entered. "Oh, hey, Idin. Bral."
Bral lifted a hand in greeting. "We're just showing the new recruits around."
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The man's gaze shifted to Amukelo and Bao, his expression mildly curious. "New ones, huh? What's their deal?"
Amukelo was about to speak, but Bao cut in. "You'll see soon enough."
The man smirked and leaned back in his chair. "Looking forward to it. When's their entry match?"
Idin answered, "Ewan said it'll be in about an hour, but if we finish the tour quickly, we can probably get to it sooner."
The man nodded, cracking his knuckles. "We'll be watching."
Amukelo felt a flicker of nervous excitement at that. He wasn't sure what the entry match would entail, but if people were already waiting to see how they performed, it meant they were expected to prove themselves.
Bral clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's keep going. Still a lot to show before the fun starts."
With that, they left the room, heading toward the corridor.