Less than a week after I had accomplished the goal of my flight training, I'm right back to doing more training. For combat, this time.

It's been a while since I've had combat training, but I should do much better this time. I'm stronger, faster, and more in tune with my wings than ever before.

Also, as a bonus, I'm not training alone this time.

Not only is the whole Expedition team, alongside Vann and a few of the guards, but several of the oldest children and the older Wolf Pups are here. Over a year has passed since I was first… carried through the gates of Haven, and everyone's gotten a year older at least.

Many of the children idolise the Expedition team. They idolise the Guards as well, just to a noticeably lesser extent that does rankle some of the younger guards, but even they listen with awe to the tales we bring back from beyond Haven's walls. Though Rann isn't looking to expand the Expedition team with any permanent members, a group training and sparring session will help test the young aspirants' abilities.

There's also the question of properly assessing the skills of the eight Wolf Pups that have spent some time in Haven now. While they are all too young for anyone to be comfortable with sending them into combat, given their oldest member Rabbit will only turn 11 next week, their skills as pathfinders and gatherers are second to none. After all, Crow was the first person to have ever successfully snuck into Haven.

The yard behind the armoury has been fitted out with everything needed for a proper day of training. Dummies, for both ranged and melee combat are arranged in rows, with a fighting ring in the middle. A few of the other inhabitants of Haven, both children and some of the older residents, watch on from the sidelines.

"Right." Rann speaks aloud, holding his oversized executioner's sword across his shoulders. "It's about time we brushed up on some training. We can't always rely on the Chief blowing up problems that come to our gate."

"She'd likely blow up the gate again, too." Vann comments, drawing a few nervous laughs from the younger members present.

"Times are changing. For the first time, strangers have found their way to our gates. Though the misadventure we sent them on will give us some time as they chase their tails, one day, they will be back." Rann continues, looking across the crowd gathered before him.

"If the Hollows don't eat them up first." Shrike, one of the younger Pups, pipes up. "Their shiny armour won't save them from a hungry Fool's Gum!"

"You're not worried we put your Wolf Queen in danger by sending them there?" Rann asks out of curiosity.

"Heh." Crow grins, rubbing his nose. "They'll never find the Capital. You never would have found it if it wasn't for me."

"But Crow, they only found the Capital because you got caught… the same way the Knights found Haven…" Rabbit brings up, with genuine worry. "You're good at sneaking in, but you need to improve your stealth skills even more to not get caught!"

"W-well they can't capture me now, can they?!" Crow retorts, drawing a few laughs.

"That's why you brought them here though, isn't it Crow?" Vann walks over, placing a hand on Crow's shoulder. "You knew we had the tools to handle them. The Red Wolves, for all their strengths, couldn't take such a foe."

"... Not without warning, anyway…" Crow mumbles, his gaze downcast before he looks up around him. "I'm… sorry I brought trouble here again, everyone. I didn't get the chance to… apologise… yet…"

"Aww, cut him some slack, everyone. Poor kid's gone beet red." Johnny quips as Crow struggles to get his apology out.

"I-I have not!!" Crow yells, his cheeks beet red, drawing a laugh from everyone.

"You're young, Crow. Making trouble is just part of growing up. Knowing who to come to for help is part of that, too." Rann nods with a smile.

"I do believe that's my line, young man." Vann raises an eyebrow at the older Rann behind him.

"It was my father's line. Who got it from you. So it is your line, you old codger." Rann grins back.

"So, we here to train or not? I don't suppose anyone knows how to deal with guys clad in plate head to toe, do they?" Johnny speaks up, sighing. "I mean, I do, but—"

"The Keepsguard are tougher nuts to crack than most of the nuts beyond our walls. But every soldier has their weakness." Rann explains, cutting Johnny off as he swings his sword around to impale it on the ground so he can lean on it. "Nothing that lives can't die."

"As I was sayin'." Johnny frowns. "Their shiny plate armour makes 'em cocky, anyways. A blade through the eye slits does the trick with armoured types. Gotta see to fight, after all."

"Armour's the last line of a warrior's defence, John. You have to get through their other lines first." Rann raises an eyebrow at Johnny.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I ain't new to this." Johnny huffs.

"I know you aren't. But others are. To demonstrate… Marina." Rann calls upon me. "Come up into the ring."

"Okay then…?" I step forward to stand across from him. Guess I'm providing an example.

"Before you can hurt your enemy, you have to hit them first. Avoiding being hit is always your first line of defence. Now, Marina." Rann turns to face me, gripping the hilt of his sword.

In the next moment—

<<FRONT>>

He lunges at me, his sword coming down at me with a blinding speed, aimed right at my chest. I can tell, somehow, from its arc and trajectory that it'll cut a deep gash across my front.

Normally, in such a situation, my wings move fast and draw their blades to deflect any threatening strike aimed at me.

Not this time.

This time, faster than Rann swung at me, my wings lunged out and flapped forwards with all their might, catapulting me backwards and upwards through the air, before I subconsciously recovered and landed safely on both feet on one of the roofs surrounding the training yard.

Uh.

"The hell did you end up there so fast, Feathers?" Johnny calls up at me.

"You may as well ask my wings, Johnny. They put me up here."

"... Well." Rann sighs, leaning on his sword again. "I suppose that proves my point. It's always safer to dodge than it is to parry. Especially if your opponent's weapon is heavier than yours."

"What point?!" I yell. "You were going to cave my chest in with that swing!"

"It's called a feint, Marina." He answers.

"Sure didn't feel like a feint to me! Or my wings!"

"That's the point, Marina." He blithely responds.

"... Yeah, okay. I guess so."

"You coming down from there?" He tilts his head.

"I… Yeah. Sure. I should." Jeeze… I know he wouldn't just kill me like that in front of everyone, but it sure felt like he was about to…

"So how are the rest of us supposed to dodge an attack like that without wings to fling us away from danger?" Arshak asks, crossing his arms.

"Recognise the attack and adapt to it. If something's coming at you from above, step aside. If it's coming from the side, step back. Make sure your wings learn that too, Marina." Rann explains, giving some demonstration swings to emphasise his points. I realise now he probably could have hit me if he intended to, since my wings hurled me backwards instead of sideways. He has far more reach with that flat-tipped sword than you'd expect.

I'm also a little surprised my wings went with… well, the flight response instead of the fight response. I guess they have a better idea now of what fights they can and can't win.

By the time I've rejoined the group, Rann's moved on to explaining the second line of defence. "If staying beyond your opponent's reach isn't an option, then you're already in trouble, but far from defenceless. Anything you can get your hands on can defend you. Deflecting, blocking, parrying, are all more dangerous than not being hit at all, but your weapon is as much for your own defence as it is for offense."

"If I let someone get that close to me, I may as well be dead…" Arshak sighs, looking down at the bow in his hand.

"You can still hit people with a bow, Arshak." Rann points. "It's still a long stick at the end of the day."

"And what will a stick do against a knight?" Arshak responds with a raised eyebrow.

"No suit of armour is flawless, Arshak. You can ask Johnny that." Rann nods towards Johnny.

"You ever seen a statue of Falian in your part of the world, Arshak?" Johnny grins.

"You mean the God of Metal whose balls you exclaim about every other day?" Arshak blithely answers.

"The very same. Well, if you had seen a statue of him, you'd know he's blind. Story goes, Falian, being the God of Metal and all, sought to make a perfect suit of armour that would make the wearer totally invulnerable. Arnar caught wind of that, and didn't like the sound of that one bit. If a warrior could don a suit of armour that made him invulnerable, then how could he experience a glorious death in battle? So, Arnar sought Falian out, and, well… blinded him so he couldn't finish the job, yeah. No other blacksmith in history has attempted to do the same, less they draw Arnar's wrath upon their mortal souls." Johnny nods at his succinct explanation.

"... And your point is?" Arshak tilts his head, not getting the moral of this story.

"No suit of armour's perfect! Even if your bow breaks, you got arrows, don't ya? They got pointy bits on the end! Stab one of those into a knight's eye socket and watch them drop like a sack!" Johnny sighs, his wonderful explanation having gone to waste.

"Does that story have anything to do with Falian's brass balls, while we're on it…?" I ask, wondering why that is Johnny's go-to expletive.

"We-hell." Johnny grins like his usual self. "Falian didn't just put down his hammer and give up being a blacksmith after that, did he? Sure, he didn't finish the perfect armour, but even with his eyes cut out, that didn't stop him from lambasting the shoddy craftsmanship of Arnar's arms and armour so much that Arnar just up and left instead of finishing the job! Falian called to him as he left, that the only reason he went for Falian's eyes instead of his throat was because his blade was too blunt to cut anything else! Arnar never showed his face around Falian's smithy again after that!"

"Are they actually made of brass, though?" Crow asks, having listened in this whole time.

"Well, statues of Falian are usually made of brass, and it ain't a proper statue of Falian if it doesn't have—" Johnny goes to continue, before Rann cuts him off again.

"If we're quite finished discussing heavenly balls…" He sighs.

"Hey, you told me to explain, didn't ya?" Johnny huffs.

"That I did. To get back on topic." Rann still nods at Johnny to show his appreciation for his somewhat long-winded explanation. "I will be blunt. If you can't dodge an attack, do your best to block it. Don't try to parry or deflect unless you're absolutely certain you can do it. Being flashy will just get you killed. Let the weapon absorb the blow, instead of your arm. But if there's really no way to avoid it…"

Rann holds up his left arm, tapping the metal vambrace strapped to it. "Try and make sure they hit what you're wearing. Clothes and armour can be fixed. A severed hand can't."

"Not all of us got metal armour, y'know." Rob points out.

"That you don't, Rob. But metal isn't the only thing that can protect you. Even fabric can save you from a sword. No matter what you can grab; linen, leather, metal, even wood, if you can put it between your skin and an enemy's weapon, it'll do you a world of good over having nothing at all." Rann nods, continuing along like Rob's interjection was planned. The younger kids are certainly eating it up.

"So, to go over this young man's points." Vann steps up. "Step one: don't get hit. Step two, if you will get hit, try and block it. Step three, if you can't block it, try not to get hit somewhere you're not wearing something."

"Yeah, we got that by now. Don't get hit. I'm sure all the kids here already know that, Rann. You gonna let them loose on the trainin' targets now or what?" Johnny brings up. To be fair, "don't get hit" is a lesson most people learn pretty early on.

"We will, unless you've got any more lessons on brass balls you wish to share today." Rann pointedly responds.

"Ay, the kids asked why! I answered!" He retorts.

"There is a reason why I started on how to avoid getting hit over how to hit things." Rann continues, swinging his sword around and planting it in the dirt in front of him. "I'm not here to teach you how to kill. I'm here to teach you how to live."

There's a moment of silence as the children, both of Haven and of the Wolf Pups, exchange looks with one another.

"But…" Rabbit speaks up, her concern clear in her eyes. "It's dangerous in the Abyss. Our Queen, and the Red Wolves taught us that. Sometimes, to win a battle, you have to defeat your opponent instead of running away…"

Rann smiles, and shakes his head. "It's not about who wins or loses a battle. It's about living. Both people can win, or both people can lose. Every battle you survive is a battle you've won."

"Because… you take that experience and level up into an even better battler?" Rabbit tries to connect the dots in her own way.

"Everyone has things they're good and bad at. Learning what those things are is how you live, and how you win. That's experience." Rann nods.

"Ohhh… but then how do I find out what I'm good at?" Rabbit nods eagerly.

"That's what we're here to find out. It doesn't have to be about fighting. Sure, a big lump like Rob could probably wear me down in a fight, but he won't be anywhere near as good at hiding as any of you kids. I'm sure Marina can attest to that." Rann grins at me, hearkening back to the hide-and-seek sessions and the Pups' perfect winning streak.

"You sure about that, Rann? This big lump here ain't exactly got much of a presence, in spite of his size." Johnny quips, patting Rob's shoulder.

Rob just looks down at Johnny, and "pats" him on the back hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet. "I am a big lump, I 'spose."

"Y-yeah…" Johnny gasps, rubbing his back. "You suppose so, ya big lump…"

"But…" Vann raises his voice, placing down a sack filled with wooden training swords. "As Rann said, we're here to find out what you're good at, and we have to start somewhere. Take a training sword, and pick a target. And don't point those things at each other!"

The kids hurry forth, each grabbing a training sword from the sack and hurrying off to the training dummies to start whacking them with gleeful abandon, with the adults standing back to make sure none of them end up getting whacked in the one-sided melee.

"Well." Rann chuckles like gravel rolling around a metal tray, crossing his arms as he watches the unfolding carnage upon the poor training dummies. "Certainly not lacking enthusiasm."

"Or bloodlust." Vann raises an eyebrow, as one of the kids swings their sword so hard it actually lops an arm off a training dummy, as the other kids cheer at their victory.

"Yeah, you might wanna do somethin' about that. Don't want to raise a band of marauders, do we?" Johnny asks.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"I'll handle it." Rann steps forth, starting to explain some proper fighting etiquette to the gathered children. Or at least, explain that they're fighting like little blood-psychopaths and that's not the best way to handle oneself in a battle.

"While he handles that." Vann hands me one of the spare training swords. "We're not just here for the kids, Marina. Step forward, let's see what you've got."

I go to take the sword, before Vann pulls it back from my reach. "Just you, to start with. You're not going to go leaping onto the roof when I swing at you, are you?" He asks with a smile.

"... As long as you don't feint at me like Rann did."

"I'll be using another training weapon, don't worry. I doubt anyone but him can properly use that iron rod he calls a sword." Vann laughs. Come to think of it, Vann laughs a lot more than Rann. Like, actually laugh. Not the chuckle Rann usually does. He offers me the training weapon again, and I take it with my left hand.

"Where did he even find that thing? I've never seen anything else like it down here."

"A dusty corner of the armoury is where he found it." Vann answers as the two of us head up to the sparring ring. "Amongst other odd bits and ends stored in there. There was no record of it being there, but there it was."

"A mysterious, strangely-shaped sword with unknown writing down its length, with no record of its existence, just laying in a dark corner of an armoury, and he just… picked it up and started using it?"

"That he did." Vann sighs lightly. "Is it any wonder he died young with that lack of restraint."

I do not know what to say in response to that. Vann notices this, and just laughs.

"Not that I'm one to comment." He sighs again, at his own expense. "I was alive long enough to leave my wife with two kids, at least. Carla and Arnulf. Yet, through some twist of fate, here I am in the afterlife with Arnulf's eldest boy."

"Where are you and Vann from, actually? I don't think I've ever asked."

"If I answer, can we start your training, Marina?" Vann asks, raising an eyebrow as he flexes his wrist.

"... Yes."

"From the northern reaches of the Giornovan Empire. A sleepy little village near the Drachenkoenig border, called Frostheld. The name is accurate, it got quite frosty in winter."

"How did you and Rann die young in a sleepy little village…?" I think aloud. I'd never seen Drachenkoenig, but it sounded fairly civilised and peaceful from what I knew, from my childhood pen-pal, and from the Chief.

"Hmm." Vann smiles grimly. "How indeed."

I get the briefest sense of movement before he lunges at me, swinging in his wooden sword in a wide arc around to the right—deliberately predictable. I mentally soothe my restless wings wishing to defend me, raising my own sword to block the swing aimed at my arm. Our swords collide, my grip nearly slipping as a jolt of pain goes down my left arm from the impact of wood on wood.

He quickly follows up with a downward slash, using the recoil of the first strike to propel his second. His movements are big and exaggerated, giving me plenty of time to react, but that doesn't make the impact hurt any less. He strikes again and again, and though I block each time, I feel my arm growing numb as each hit sends a wave of pain through my limb. Still, I'm holding my ground. He goes for a drawn-out overhead swing, and I step back and raise my weapon to block—

"And Marina's out." Rann comments, as Vann stops mid-swing and lowers his training sword.

"W-what?" I looked around, confused, having not noticed the audience Vann and I had gained in our contest. It's only when I look down that I see one foot outside the circle designating the sparring ring. "Oh."

"You need to watch your footing, Marina. Your blocking's good, but you let yourself get backed into a corner." Vann explains.

"Was my blocking good? I can barely feel my arm after that…" I admit, rubbing my near-numb arm.

"A sore arm's always better than losing an arm." Rann calls from the sideline. Fair point.

"Alright, I've hacked at you a bit. Let's see you take a few swings at me." Vann says, readying his sword again and stepping back to the middle of the ring.

Alright. I can remember a few combos from my father's training. They probably look simple to a seasoned fighter like Vann, but at least I know something.

I step forward, weapon raised. Fortunately, I'm left handed, and that can often throw opponents off their kilter. I just need to focus.

Thrust, left swing, right upper swing.

He blocked all three. I need to up my pace.

Upper left swing, thrust, thrust.

He nearly caught my weapon against his hilt. Thrusts don't work.

Left, right, upper right, right.

I'm not gaining ground… ah, screw it. Time to use the best one I know!

Downward right, upper left, downward left, right swing, thrust—ah.

Vann's hand on my wrist stops my combo in its tracks. He squeezes, hard enough that I reflexively let go of my sword.

"I give, I give…!"

"What exactly were you just doing?" Vann asks, raising an eyebrow and still holding my wrist.

"What my father taught me! From… um… The Flower of Battle!"

"The Flower of Battle?" Vann repeats at me, unimpressed. "Is that what they call swordfighting down south?"

"It's the most popular manuscript for swordfighting! It's just…" I try and copy one of the other movements I saw in my father's copy of the manuscript, involving locking your opponent's sword-arm so you can strike their face. "I can't exactly overpower someone like you!"

"I know." Vann laughs, letting my arm go finally. "I heard of it. It's a good starting point, but it's not going to work very well unless your arms are as big as Rob's."

"So you do know it! I know the name isn't exactly… battle-worthy, but-"

Vann raises a hand to stop me. "I recognised it the moment we started. The seven swords style of guarding, yes?"

"Yes. The lynx of prudence. The tiger of celerity. The lion of audacity. The elephant of fortitude. It's what my father knew, and it's what he taught his daughters to protect themselves."

"Not many fathers would teach their daughters such things, especially not from a manuscript like that." Vann raises an eyebrow again. "Was the Sovrana Republic so dangerous even the women needed to know how to fight?"

"It's more… a cultural thing. It wasn't uncommon for young men to challenge each other for the "right" to wed a girl, and challenges must be accepted. But… there's nothing saying a woman can't challenge a man on her tail for the right to wed herself."

"Hah!" Vann laughs. "Now I see. Your father wasn't going to give away his daughters to just anyone, was he? If I lived in such a place, I'd have taught Carla the same thing. Though, the way she swung an ax when chopping wood, I know the village boys thought twice before asking her to dance."

"If you two are done, I think others would like to use the ring." Rann calls again, leaning against a fence post.

"Alright, alright." Vann sighs. "The youths these days, so impatient…"

"Old codgers these days, taking all the time in the world." Rann dryly grins back. "Figured out what to do with Marina?"

"I'll work something out. She's given me a few ideas. You know the seven swords style, don't you, young man?" Vann smiles.

"Heard of it." Rann nods.

"We're going to work on the nine swords style. She has nine of them, after all." Vann taps his temple knowingly.

…

When Vann gets an idea, there's very little that he'll let get in his way. He quickly led me away from the rest of the training group, across town to the lot behind the Chief's library and residence. We still had our training swords, so training wasn't over, but I didn't know what exactly he had in mind. Neither did the Chief.

"I thought Rann was handling Marina's training." The Chief comments, standing with her arms crossed beside Vann.

"She'll get her time with Rann. She needs somewhere to start, though, and I think we're onto something. You brought out a spare bit of parchment and something to write with, yes?" Vann smiles.

"I did." The Chief hands him what he asked for. "This better be worth it, though. We don't have an infinite supply of parchment."

"We're doing this to help Marina survive better out there, Chief. A bit of parchment is nothing in the face of that, is it Chief?" Vann asks to make sure, but I can tell he's teasing her a little.

"Just explain what you're doing already, Vann. I was taking inventory for the month again." The Chief sighs, but relents.

"You see." Vann holds the parchment against a wooden post out the back of the Chief's library, starting to scribble as he speaks. "The seven swords. They form a circle around you, representing the seven guard positions. Now, of course, no warrior actually has seven swords, they have one, or maybe two. It's just to show where and how to block and rest your sword. But, we take someone like Marina, with her eight wing-blades, plus holding a sword in her hands…"

Vann draws a stick figure, with eight swords pointing inwards around them forming an even circle, followed by a ninth straight down the middle. Rather than the upper, middle, and lower blocks on either side of the seven swords diagram, this one has an upper, upper middle, lower middle, and lower position on each side. "She has nine actual swords on her. If we can train each blade on her wings to focus on blocking a certain position, with the sword in her hands protecting the very middle, she'd be practically untouchable in melee."

"... I'm no swordfighter, but I understand the logic." The Chief nods thoughtfully, staring at the diagram. "Do you think your wings could be taught that, Marina?"

It makes sense in theory. In practice, though… well.

"It could work. Only one way to find out."

"I'd also be interested in seeing if this works. Go on you two." The Chief smiles, leaning against the post.

"So the idea is… each sword on my wings has an area they focus on blocking, rather than all of them trying to block the same thing. That, while holding my sword in my hands and focusing on the middle, means I can protect myself from every angle." I repeat aloud. My wings come out of their cloak, hanging low to my sides. Did you get all that, wings? If you… You can't see, right? Can you see my visualisation or… do you get it?

My wings lift up to either side, extending their eight blades out, but not seeming to know what to do beyond that. Okay. I'll hold my arms out at set angles, and you copy it with your blades, starting from the bottom two, okay? Lower… Lower middle… Upper middle… Upper. Now, hold that, okay? Hold…

"... What." I ask Vann and the Chief, who have been silently staring at me with some bemusement.

"I hope you won't have to do that every time we do this, Marina." Vann grins.

"I sure hope not." I sigh, picking up the training sword and holding it straight in front of me. "We're ready, though."

"Alright." Vann steps forward. "Now, I'm not going to lose a hand swinging this at you, am I?"

"You won't." I smile, but give my wings some real side-eye. This is practice. He's not gonna kill me. Just block his weapon, okay?

"Right. Let's test the upper left first." Vann says, taking aim with his sword, clearly lining up the swing, before lunging forwards with a swipe.

My entire left wing swipes upwards with all four blades, deftly deflecting the blow. Only, they quickly realise that is not what they were supposed to do, as the left wing starts flapping in panic.

"That's not… err… your wings okay there, Marina?" Vann asks, stepping back to not get hit in the face with feathers.

"Yeah, just… calm down already, would you?" I grab my left wing to get it to stop flapping. Only one blade blocks. You don't need to use your whole… yourself… to block, okay? Good. "Let's try again. With the other side. The right one behaves a bit more."

"It does, actually." The Chief muses aloud. "Try the right side."

While the left wing is not happy about this statement, the right wing has stayed still and in position despite the left's protestations. The left does calm down enough to sit still after I glare at it, though, and Vann readies another swing.

He swings towards my upper right side, and this time, my uppermost right wing-blade moves independent of the rest to block Vann's strike.

"Hmm." Vann strokes his chin. "Let's give it a few more rounds and see how you go."

Though my left wing is a bit slower on the uptake, after a few strikes, it's more or less figured out what to do. Rather than moving all at once, each outstretched blade-feather stays in their respective areas, blocking strikes aimed at them. This is what we wanted, until Vann made a direct thrust at my chest—and all eight blades converged on it at once, stopping the wooden sword dead in its tracks… by impaling it several times over, leaving the weapon stuck there.

"... Ah."

"That's…" Vann tries to shake the sword free, only getting it more stuck as my blades dig into it. "Could you… maybe let go, Marina?"

"I think you need to let go first."

Vann complies, letting go of the training weapon, which is now awkwardly suspended in the air, with half my wing-blades still embedded in it, awkwardly tugging and jostling to try and get loose. Okay. This isn't working. Just hold still wings, let me… get it… loose…

"Ah."

The tip of the wooden sword fell to the mud with a plop; the cuts my wings made had been deep enough to sever it as I tried wiggling their blades free.

"Well." Vann blinks, looking down at the broken off wood. "No fixing that."

"So, this cost us one training weapon." The Chief sighs, stepping forward with her arms crossed. "I feel this practice needs more than one person, however, if we're to truly test its effectiveness."

"Do we have a way of doing that without potentially losing more training weapons? We can make more, but I'd rather not lose the ones we have." Vann asks, taking the now broken training sword from me.

"Hmm." The Chief raises her eyebrows and smiles, holding up her index and middle finger together. "I may be no swordfighter, but that won't matter with these."

With a flick of her wrist, three golden flashes appear above the Chief, forming into three shimmering, half-metal, half-light swords that slowly rotate in front of her.

"... Wouldn't one be enough?"

"We've established by now you can defend yourself against a single weapon, Marina. But combat is rarely one-on-one. If we are to truly test your defenses, you need to be attacked from multiple angles all at once!" The Chief explains with a confident smirk, stepping forward to stand opposite me.

"I get your point, Chief, but we might be getting ahead of ourselves…" Vann comments, holding up the broken training sword.

"Nonsense." The Chief dismisses. "These won't hurt her any more than those wooden swords. She's resistant to magic, anyway. Shall we begin, Marina?"

"I'm not worried about her getting hurt more than I am how she… or, her wings'll handle it, Chief…" Vann voices his concern, but the Chief brushes him off again.

"As I said before… only one way to find out." I get an inkling this won't go well, but we won't know for sure until we try. I nod to the Chief that I'm ready.

She takes one step forward, pointing towards me with her outstretched fingers, as the golden blades behind her suddenly spin, flash, and twirl towards me, two to the left, one to the right. They're not coming at me fast, it should be manageable. Should be.

Only, instead of deftly blocking all three strikes, I get simultaneously struck with a threefold shock of pain shooting down my wings, who don't even budge as all three golden blades impale straight into their feathers. It's like this electric jolt that runs straight through my wings, down my spine, and across my body.

"... Ow."

"Chief…" Vann sighs, facepalming.

"M-Marina! You didn't even try and…" With a wave of her hand, the golden blades disintegrate, but that doesn't make the pain go away. "Are you okay?!"

She does look genuinely worried as she runs up to me and grabs my shoulders. Which I can kinda feel. Sorta. Is this numbness normal?

"I think…" I speak, my jaw feeling somewhat stiff. "I'm not ready… for multiple enemies… yet…"

"Gods…" The Chief guides me over to the back door of the library, my legs struggling to move properly. "You're lucky you are resistant to magic, else you'd be completely paralysed…"

"Why… did you think paralysing blades… would be good for this?"

"It's the only blade spell I have! Besides, I didn't think you wouldn't move at all!" She frets, opening the door and trying to get me through, as my wings have gone stiff as a board with their blades still extended.

"She will recover from this, won't she, Chief?" Vann asks, helping turn me side-on as I awkwardly waddle through the door.

"Of course she will, it'll just take a few minutes." The Chief shoots back, closing the door behind us before hurrying back over to guide me up the stairs, with Vann following. "But for now, she should just… rest."

"I guess we'll have to leave the training off here for today, then." Vann sighs, clunking up the stairs behind me. "We've made a good start, though. We'll keep at the single-target practice for a while before we move up to her facing multiple weapons again."

"More practice…" I groan, hobbling over to the nearest chair and slumping back in it, my wings awkwardly splayed out behind me.

"More practice." Vann smiles, carefully leaning past my wing to pat my shoulder.

"Could you get her something warm to drink from the tavern, Vann? She has earned it today." The Chief asks, and Vann nods before heading back down the stairs as she sits down across from me.

"I think we got a bit… ahead of ourselves today." I comment.

"I thought you'd block at least one of them, not stand completely still." The Chief sighs to herself, burying her face in her hands.

"I thought so too, but apparently three things at once was too much for my wings…"

"While I may have… as you said, we got ahead of ourselves a little, we have made a good start regardless of this little accident. It'd put me at ease knowing you're better equipped to keep yourself safe out there when I'm not around." She looks back up at me, trying to brush over her "little" accident of half-paralysing me.

"... When you're not around?"

"Yes, when I'm not around. There is no greater guarantee of your safety, or anyone's safety for that matter, than being in my presence." She clarifies. "Unless you know a mage more capable than me out there."

"I don't think Arza counts, so no."

"Exactly." She smiles with quiet pride. "You're an invaluable member of Haven, Marina, and I would not abide anything happening to you. I only agreed to Rann's plan on the provision that your combat skills would be sharpened so you could better protect yourself. Thankfully, it looks like Vann's training ideas are already bearing fruit, which does soothe my worries a little."

"Were you worrying about me when you aimed three paralysing blades at me?"

"I—I didn't think you would just stand there!" She retorts, her cheeks reddening. "Besides, I told you that's the only blade spell I have!"

"Does it have a name like the Light of Annihilation does?"

"... It's called the Auric Stinger." She looks away, crossing her arms.

"The Order of the Golden Light sure has some creative spell names…"

"Every school does. You think ours are the worst? Half the Convent of Twilight's spells have "shadow" in the name. They're ridiculous." She scowls at nothing, still looking away.

"At least…" I flex my shoulders, rubbing my arm. "The numbness has mostly gone away now…"

My wings have started moving again, slowly drawing in their blades and nestling by my sides. The Auric Stinger blades left no mark, it's just the residual pain and numbness. I guess magical weapons like that wouldn't leave much of a mark.

"Good." She briefly glances back at me before looking away again. "You should rest for today. Keep up the practice, and in time, we might try to test you against multiple blades again."

"Paralysing blades again?"

"Unless you can deflect wooden blades without breaking them, yes." She frowns at me.

"... Fair point."

I thought flight practice was arduous, but at least I wasn't getting hit during that. Or partially paralysed. But if practicing combat puts the Chief at ease, it's what I'll do. It's not like learning how to better defend myself doesn't obviously benefit me too.

I'd like to say I hope I don't have to use this training on anyone… but I won't get my hopes up. Sooner or later, I probably will have to face down another human trying to end my life, and it'll be me or them.

I just hope it won't be anytime soon.

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