Chapter 90 - Walking Through The Facility
Then they moved deeper into the corridor. The hallway split off into two directions ahead—one turn to the right and one to the left.
Bral pointed toward the right. "That's where the sparring sessions happen. The room is designed specifically for controlled fights."
He led the way inside, pushing open a heavy wooden door. The room beyond was simple, its design focused purely on function. The floor was marked with a large rectangular area at the center, its faded lines showing years of use. The space was large enough to allow fighters to move freely without feeling cramped, but it was still enclosed enough to ensure the fights remained controlled. Around the perimeter, a few wooden benches lined the walls, serving as seating for those waiting their turn or observing spars.
A few training weapons hung neatly along one side of the wall, available for use when necessary.
"It's nothing extraordinary," Bral continued, glancing around. "But it does its job well. When sparring sessions aren't happening, this room sometimes gets used for personal sessions if there aren't enough rooms available."
Amukelo stepped inside, looking around. The wooden flooring bore the faint scratches and scuffs from countless matches, and he imagined the many fighters who had trained here before him.
Bao nodded in approval. "A good space. Nothing distracting."
Idin smirked. "Just wait until you're actually in a fight here. Then you'll feel the pressure."
They left the room and moved toward the other side of the hall. The doors on this side were much bigger, thicker than the rest. Bral gave them a firm push, and the doors groaned as they swung open.
The room was an arena, far larger than the sparring area, with a circular fighting ring in the middle. The flooring here was reinforced stone, smoothed down over time, yet still carrying the marks of heavy impacts and intense battles. Surrounding the ring were raised wooden tribunes, rows of seats meant for spectators. The space felt far more imposing than the sparring area.
Idin gestured around. "This is where the real fights happen. When bigger matches are organized, this room fills up quickly. People love to watch a good fight, so when we have formal matches, this place gets packed."
Amukelo took a slow look around, imagining the space filled with people.
"But," Idin added, "this room isn't used that often. They don't organize big events frequently. So most of the time, it's empty like this."
Bral nodded. "Still, if you ever get into a match here, you'd better not freeze up with an audience watching."
Amukelo huffed, gripping the hilt of his sword. "I won't."
Bral chuckled. "We'll see."
They left the arena and continued down the corridor. Again, the path split into two more rooms. Bral turned toward the left, leading them inside.
The room they entered looked somewhat similar to the sparring area, but it was slightly larger, and in one corner stood rows of training dummies. Some were simple wooden figures, worn down by repeated strikes, while others had additional padding for more aggressive practice.
"This is the class training room," Idin explained. "This is where they hold group lessons for different skill levels. When a lot of people show up, it can get pretty cramped, but if there's no session happening, you can use it freely."
Bao stepped toward one of the training dummies, examining it with curiosity. "Seems useful."
Amukelo walked over to another dummy, pressing his fingers against the impact zones. The wood was rough, covered in marks from repeated blows. He could feel the dents and scratches, evidence of countless training sessions.
"It's good for refining techniques," Idin said. "You'll probably spend some time in here if you take classes."
Bral grinned. "Or, if you just want to hit something."
They left the class training room and headed toward the last remaining room on the other side of the hallway. This one was different—the doors were wide open, and from inside came the unmistakable sounds of combat. The clashing of wooden weapons, grunts of effort, and the dull thuds of impact filled the air.
As they stepped in, the scale of the room became immediately clear.
It was a massive hall, easily the largest space in the facility. Fighters of all skill levels trained inside, each engaged in their own drills. Some paired off in controlled spars, others worked solo, striking at dummies or practicing forms. The high ceiling made the space feel even bigger, the torches lining the walls casting a warm, flickering glow over the scene.
"This," Bral said, spreading his arms, "is the heart of the training facility. The general training hall."
Amukelo took it all in, his eyes moving from one group to the next. Some fighters were slow and methodical, perfecting every motion. Others were engaged in fast-paced duels, their wooden weapons striking in rapid succession.
Bral continued, "This place is open as long as the facility is. You can come here whenever you want to train, and there's almost always someone here. Even if a class is being held, there's usually still enough space for others to do their own thing."
Idin nodded. "You'll see the most people here, and you'll probably meet a lot of familiar faces after a while. Everyone trains differently, but this is where you'll find the most variety."
Amukelo exhaled, feeling a deep sense of anticipation rising within him. This was exactly what he had been waiting for.
Bral clapped him on the shoulder. "Well? What do you think?"
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Amukelo grinned. "I think I'm going to like it here."
Bral chuckled. "Good. Because soon, you'll have to prove yourself in that entry match."
As they made their way back through the corridor, Amukelo glanced around once more, absorbing everything he had seen. The facility, despite its rough exterior, was well-structured inside, and the knowledge Bral and Idin had about it surprised him.
"Wow..." Amukelo muttered, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. "You surely know a lot. How do you know so much about this place? You spoke as if you were in this place for years. I mean, you couldn't have learned all of this in the short time we've been in Llyn."
Bral let out a hearty laugh and shook his head. "Hah! We were just repeating to you what Ewan told us. Nothing more, nothing less."
Amukelo raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "So basically, you were acting like you knew everything when you were just relaying information?"
Bral grinned. "Exactly! That's how you sound smart, rookie. Confidence is key!"
Idin chuckled but rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just don't listen to half of what he says, and you'll be fine."
They finally stepped back into the main hall, where the faint sounds of training and distant conversations echoed around them. Idin stretched his arms, looking toward Amukelo and Bao. "So, you wanna warm up before the match, or do you want to wait in the resting room?"
Bao turned her gaze to Amukelo, as if waiting for his answer before giving hers. After a brief pause, she shrugged. "I'll warm up. No point in just sitting around."
Amukelo nodded. "Yeah, I'll do the same. No sense in going into a match cold."
With that, they turned toward the room where all the equipment was stored.
Amukelo scanned the weapons carefully, lifting a few in his hands, testing their weight. He needed something that felt close to his own blade, something that wouldn't throw off his movements. Eventually, he settled on a wooden sword that matched his weapon's length and weight as closely as possible. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
Bao, meanwhile, picked a short sword. It was sleek, well-balanced, and suited to her quicker movements.
Once they had their weapons, they moved to the general training hall.
Amukelo started with stretching, making sure his body was loose and ready. He had learned long ago that a stiff body could be just as dangerous in battle as a dull weapon. As he worked through his stretches, he noticed Bao doing the same, moving through a set of dynamic motions to loosen up.
After stretching, Amukelo began practicing his basic movements.
Bral and Idin stood nearby, watching with interest.
"You know," Bral commented, "for someone who hasn't had much structured training, his form isn't bad at all."
Idin nodded. "Yeah. He's got good instincts. His control is tight."
After a few more minutes, a familiar voice interrupted their training.
"Oh, since you're already here, I assume you've seen the entire facility, right?"
Amukelo turned to see Ewan approaching.
Idin nodded. "Yeah, we already did it."
Ewan gave a small approving nod. "Good. In that case, we can begin. Your opponents are ready."
A sense of excitement buzzed through the air. Amukelo and Bao exchanged a brief look before following Ewan down the corridor toward the sparring room.
Several people were inside, standing in groups, talking and watching as they waited. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, some fighters hyping each other up, others discussing strategies. There was an energy here, an unspoken understanding among the warriors in the room—this was where you proved yourself.
But in the midst of all the gathered fighters, one person stood apart.
A young man leaned against the far wall, his posture relaxed but purposeful. He was different from the others—not caught up in conversation, not engaging in the pre-fight excitement. Instead, he stood with his arms crossed, his eyes closed, seemingly focused entirely on his breathing.
He had fiery red hair. His build was tall and lean, yet there was clear muscle beneath his training clothes. He wasn't bulky, but there was an undeniable strength in his frame, a certain presence that made him feel dangerous even while standing still.
Bral smirked and nudged Amukelo and Bao, tilting his head toward the red-haired fighter.
"Ohh... You'll be watched by the rising star."