Heavy Weapons... I should have given them solid consideration from the start.

The Unalarans who captured me had favored the two-handed weapon style, and if I ever wanted to make it back home, I'd have to face them again.

Yet, until my foray with the 1st Cohort of House Garazal, I hadn't thought much about heavy weapons beyond a necessary evil of Warrior Mage training.

Now?

Now, I turned up for the first lesson of Tei day with a burning need.

On Velkyn, I'd seen the danger firsthand. Massive warriors swinging hammers and axes like horizontal pendulums, creating a gauntlet of death.

Crushing. Hacking. One hit and you were done.

I still didn't have any love for wielding the cumbersome weapons myself, but I damn well needed to learn how to survive them. And there was no better place than Irala Academy's heavy weapons class.

Master Oneus ignored me as I entered and stood ready with my training glaive in hand.

I was not alone in his disdain. Five more Archons were on the outside of his circle of competence, while his eight class favorites were paired off against each other and benefited from his direct tutelage.

The rest of us swung our padded training glaives against straw-filled sacks. I'd hated this in the past weeks, but with my newfound resolve, I trained like I wanted to be a world champion at straw bag bashing.

"Enough of that," Oneus shouted in a rare interaction with the lesser half of the class. "It's time for you to spar. Pair up. Body and head strikes to win. Best of three, then switch partners."

"Well, this should be fun," I grumbled as the five Archons ferociously tried to partner with each other, despite the numbers not adding up. I stood and watched them, waiting for the obvious conclusion to their bullshit.

"Fine, I'll do it," one of them snapped. Only their identifiers told them apart. All extra tall and broad examples of the Archon race, all with the same golden hair, though their styles differed slightly, and their faces had just enough nuance that to an untrained eye, the sorry gaggle of assholes could have been quintuplets.

After a little more back and forth, Alon Resus, a Level 20, came forward. "We're up, Henshaw. I'll make this quick."

"I hope so," I replied, setting myself ready.

He frowned, uncertain how to take what I'd said, then set himself. As we stood, he eyed my identifier and his frown deepened. "How on all that is pure are you Level Twenty now?"

His stance dropped deeper, as if he was taking it more seriously. I didn't answer, which didn't seem to faze him. He lunged forward with his training glaive to deliver a probing blow. I evaded with a step back, but true to his word, he tried to end the bout swiftly.

He swung in a tight arc aiming for my head. I ducked and prodded him in the stomach. He oofed but kept coming.

"One!" I shouted, making sure others heard. It was up to him if he wanted to keep going rather than reset.

"You didn't hit," he growled, swinging again, all power, no tact. I moved out of the way easily. I wasn't skilled with heavy weapons, but I was fast, and I was nimble, and with the strength I'd been steadily building from the Titan Strain Anso had given me, the training glaive felt light in my hands. I prodded the bear in the gut again.

"Two!"

"No!" he roared and brought the glaive around in a fast arc, aiming at my head. I sidestepped, turning my body to reduce the target, and his weapon hit the ground.

With a casual backhand, I swung my glaive into his angry face.

"Three!" I shouted and stepped back. He still came on, swinging like a drunk at closing time, desperate to take me out. I kept my wits, slipping past his cumbersome attacks until Oneus barked again.

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"What is going on here!"

I didn't bother to speak. I knew Alon would be quick to answer and would talk over me, and despite some of the teachers trying to be fair, I was still an outsider.

"He's not fighting fairly. He's spent the last five minutes running, and now he's trying to say he's scored three killing blows!"

Oneus looked at me. "Is this true?"

I shrugged. "Did I embrace the spirit of brute force heavy weapon brutality? No, because I'm much smaller and I can't stand toe-to-toe with any of you, or any of the larger races. So I used what skills I have — speed and accuracy. I slipped past his clumsy swings and countered with two body shots and one head shot."

Oneus's eyes flickered down to the pin on my chest and back up to my eyes. "Show me."

Alon growled with far more confidence than he should have from his earlier showing and leveled his glaive again. I did the same.

The big Archon came on fast with a sweeping attack at waist height. It was an attack that removed all space. Too low to duck, too high to jump, and done with such aggression that I had no choice but to throw myself backward into a roll.

It was more luck than skill that I didn't get tangled up with the glaive, but the awkward weapon didn't make rolling back to my feet easy, and with the eyes of the full class on me now, it almost knocked my concentration.

Alon didn't waste any time and reversed the sweep back at me. I was all for running, but with his intent and the broad sweeps, it wasn't a good tactic and it would make me look awful. I still had some pride, and so for the first time in our fights, I gritted my teeth and used the glaive to block.

It was a hell of a thud, but this was the first time since leveling my warrior class that I got to feel the additional durability boon, and I handled the blow well.

I'd broken his wild momentum and now he was wide open. He was so shocked that I'd been able to hold the blow that he didn't even react when I casually bopped him on the head with the padded end of the glaive.

Most of the class broke out into laughter. Alon fumed, and Oneus eyed me curiously.

"I'm curious at your increased prowess with these weapons, Adam Henshaw. Would you care to explain your sudden skill?"

"I have no skill with them," I admitted honestly. "I'm using this," I waved the glaive, "like a stick to prod a dangerous animal. I know how to move, and I understand the shortcomings of the weapons after being targeted by them on Velkyn.

They're slow and cumbersome. Great if you're heavily armored and fighting against a similar opponent, or against a weaker opponent where you can control the space. And if there's a battle line? Terrifying.

But in a duel environment like this? They're poor — especially when a touch will take the point."

Oneus folded his arms across his barrel chest, his brow creasing as he studied me.

"I heard about your work on Velkyn. News travels fast here. But you are wrong."

I think he expected a denial, but I just smiled at him.

"More than likely. I'm a stranger in a strange land trying my best. Let me know how I'm wrong and I'll work on it."

"You assume a lack of skill in heavy weapons, which is an insult."

I shook my head. "Not at all. I explicitly said I have no skill with them and had to rely on speed and accuracy of movement. For the first three weeks, I trained with Yoru. Trust me, I know there's a massive amount of skill involved. But the shortcomings are the same."

He shook his head.

"So what do you hope to get out of this class if you believe it to be so limited in application?"

"Honestly? I want to know how to defend and fight against it. Me not being physically suited to heavy weapons doesn't mean I won't have to face them in battle."

"So you intend to use my class selfishly for your own gains."

It was my turn to frown. "That's exactly what learning is. But me using my strengths, rather than trying to fight the same way as you guys, is advantageous for whoever I'm training against."

"How so?"

"Will the other students never face smaller, faster opponents? Surely it's better to learn how to deal with that now rather than ignore it until it happens."

He actually nodded, his eyes flickering down to the pin on my chest again.

"It has long been an annoyance of mine that we must train in isolation until battle class in the third year. By then, each class of fighter has already fallen into bad habits."

He threw a thumb at the four miserable looking Archons of our neglected group. "If you can win two more, you can join the top group."

Then he turned, barked, "Back to training!" and that was that.

Alon scowled and marched off toward the others in our second-rate group, and another of them came over.

Alon Ignis. Level 21.

I nodded to him respectfully, determined not to engage in their games. To my surprise, he nodded back.

"I hate this class," he said, hefting his glaive. "I prefer throwing magic from afar, if I can help it, but Divination? No thanks."

"Yeah. That was my thought, though most lessons I regret it."

He nodded to the pin on my chest. "How'd you get an honor pin? Everyone's saying Prime Garazal gave it to you to make you look more important than you are."

I didn't really want to get into this, and I certainly wasn't going to give the full story, but if I didn't answer it would probably cause me more problems.

"I was sent on a message with the House Guard to go see another strong human."

I saw confusion cross his face and corrected.

"Someone from Earth, like me. Anyway, we were ambushed by the Siroth, and I stood my ground and fought during our escape."

His eyes widened.

"Wow. That'd do it. Must have been terrifying, going from the academy straight into battle. I'm dreading the year break placement."

"I was a soldier on my home planet, so I have a bit of experience." (That was a lie. Apart from the Unalaran hunters wiping out my entire unit and capturing me, I'd never fought in anything like that before.)

"We should spar," I added. "I can feel Oneus' eyes on us."

"Yeah. Take it easy on me?"

I was so surprised by the request, I almost spluttered.

"As long as you do the same."

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