On the other side of the portal, the hall they had arrived in was silent. It was a large training room with dummies and weapon racks spread across the walls. There were halberds, swords, spears, battle axes and even great shields, though they all appeared to be training weapons, made of wood or with dulled blades. The walls were all adorned with the banner of the Western Alliance: white mountains in a grey circle—a familiar and comforting symbol for many.
It was nighttime here and those who had just arrived were looking around, a little disorientated. A few chose to sit on the tatami mats, awaiting instructions. They were greeted by a single teacher. His name was Bob, a jolly man with big sideburns. "Good evening," he said. "I'd like to welcome you to Base Sixteen. I cannot tell you where it is for security reasons, but I will warn you that it is very cold outside, approximately minus 10, so I would encourage all to follow me to main reception area quickly where you will be assigned your room numbers. Most others have already arrived, but there are still a few stragglers, so if you are woken up by one of these do not take it personally. Tomorrow is Sunday, and will therefore be considered a day of rest, but please return to this Great Hall on Monday for your ranking."
"Haven't we already been assessed?" said the young woman with the red sash.
Bob frowned. "Although I am aware some of you have taken an assessment today, I'm afraid the ranking must also take place. This will involve sparring."
Everyone's ears pricked up.
"Don't worry if you do not do well, that's to be expected for many of you. It's good for us to get a general understanding of where everyone is at as we start the year. You will have opportunities to challenge your peers as time goes on and gradually work your way up the rankings," he said with a smile.
"What if we don't have an ability?" the girl with the red sash added.
"Do the best you can," said Bob. "Any other questions?"
Nobody responded.
"Good, then I shall guide you the reception area."
*
Although they hadn't had the opportunity to do a proper tour, Lenny did spot a few of the buildings around the campus. The largest of which was a tall octagonal floor-planned office building that must have had twenty floors. It had what looked like a secondary building attached to it, with large white walls and a glass domed roof. It contrasted the other buildings in both design and scale, being more modern and bright. The Great Hall that they had first arrived in was almost an exact opposite, with large wooden beams and parquet floors. It felt like something that had existed and would continue to for a very long time.
Sign in at the reception was quite simple: an organiplastic tablet captured their signatures and recorded a simple photo. Lenny spotted the blue sash from the assessment centre, and suddenly remembered the damage caused to the church by one of the salamanders. How was he ever supposed to go up against someone like that?
That night, Lenny slept like a log. He hadn't slept in a real bed for as long as he could remember, and the warm duvet held him in a deep dreamless sleep.
When he finally woke up, it was late morning, and his roommate had already left. Sunday would usually mean service, chores, etcetera. But Lenny had another idea. He was going to start taking his training in earnest. He'd spotted a couple of practice dummies in the room he'd arrived in, so made his way there, hoping the place would be empty. To his surprise, it was not. There were about twenty others in the room, none of which he recognised.
A little wary, and not wanting to be seen, he pulled one of the training dummies out and place it in the corner. He proceeded to strike it a few times. A couple of the second years considered him.
"What you think?" asked a girl with dark hair.
"Strength's okay, techniques shoddy though. I don't think he's ever seriously thrown a punch," said the second observer. He was the spitting image of the other, but male. They were both quite striking.
Lenny, realising the others were speaking about him, made a point of elbowing the dummy in the face as hard as he could. The reinforced steel plates in his forearm made the connection sound heavy and the head of the dummy smashed into the floor before recoiling back up.
"He'll do," said the girl.
"Oi, newbie," said the boy.
Lenny turned.
"You wanna spar?" he asked.
Lenny noticed the spirit armour the boy was covered in, realising he'd likely been on a few hunts. He spotted the yellow sash on the chest and thought that, perhaps, he would have stood a chance if he used all of his skills, but fighting someone in spirit armour with a higher ability level too was madness. Not to mention, he did not want to get injured before the assessment and was inclined to be cautious in new circumstances.
"Not today, my assessments tomorrow. I want to save my strength."
"Then why are you here?"
"I wanted to practice a little."
"Great, we'll spar then," said the boy.
"I said no," Lenny snapped. But it was too late, as two large black balls were heading his way. He reached inside the waist of his trousers and pulled out the dagger Mother Mercy had given him. He wished he'd held onto the rock mole hammer, but such thoughts were pointless. He used the blade to slash the ball coming at him. Activating its ability, he was able to slash quickly. It scuffed slightly, but the other ball struck him in the stomach before he could activate the effect again.
"You scratched my weapon," said the second year.
"Make him pay," said the girl.
The next thing he knew, the scratched ball had hit him in the face, and he was unconscious. The siblings laughed, and one of them decided to take the blade, which had intrigued him.
"How'd an orange sash from first year get a spirit weapon?" he asked.
"No idea," said the other. "Maybe he stole it."
The boy picked it up. "I'll just hold onto it then, till the rightful owner returns to pick it up."
Lenny had been found the next morning. He was rushed to the medical bay, where he was healed fairly quickly. With head wounds, it was always best to stick around for a while to be monitored. The brain was complicated, and small bleeds could cause big issues when missed.
Unknown to Lenny, who had lost quite some time, the ranking was taking place without him.