Chapter 453: Evaluation (2/2)
”Lampard,” came the abrupt voice of a taller man. He stood beyond the average of the class, dark-skin-complexion, very well-defined body structure as well as facial features. The muddied short hair complimented his weapon, ”-a spear user. Leave the attacking to me,” he said proudly.
Last came the one who had caught the attention of a few in not a good way. ”Lyoko Igna,” said he without adding much. The response was mixed, the girls stared with suspicion while the boys smiled almost sympathetically.
”Well met, Igna,” said Lampard giving a handshake.
”Likewise,” he reached and, *slap,* ”-don't you dare,” laughed Rena, ”-no one has the right to shake the hand of the next Platinum Adventurer, especially a weakling.” Leonard couldn't careless, Jen kept her listless smile.
'Idiots,' mumbled Igna quietly watching as the group formed around four members. They discussed strategies with Lampard being the loudest. Soon after, the five minutes was given an extension of twenty-five more. Group C assigned Lampard as the leader.
”Hey boy, aren't you going to meet with your group?” wondered a man in smithing attire.
”Not really,” he replied, ”-they rather not let a weakling get in their way.”
”Must be harsh,” returned he with arms crossed, ”-listen, being weak isn't a shame. Look at me, and look at the people up there, we all started small and became big. There's always room for improvement.”
”Thanks for saying so,” he nodded courteously.
”You have manners,” he laughed, ”-come on, take a pick, I see you don't have a weapon.”
”How?” he shrugged, ”-I don't know anything about swords and weapons. I don't even know if I'll be able to swing one around.”
”Listen, kid,” the hand slammed atop the table, ”-no one likes a weakling. However, people respect a weakling who tries his best. Don't think one is weak, think of how to become better. And for a sword or weapon – tis the only partner that mustn't fail you in battle. Even if the world turns against you, the weapon will be by your side. Don't think, feel it.”
'Feel the weapon.' It made sense in some twisted way. The table laid with multiple-sword: short-sword, long-sword, great-sword, and a particular one with a slightly curved body. 'So slender and curved, it reminds me of lady Misna.'
”What are you doing here?”
”Jen,” startled by her appearance, ”-nothing much,” he shuffled back, ”-looking for a weapon I suppose.”
”A weapon?” she stood on her toe to peer above his shoulder, ”-I thought you didn't want to fight, what's the deal?”
”I don't know really,” a grin followed,”-just thought I'd get something to guard myself. You know, we don't really know what could happen.”
”What of it, have you picked one?”
”Yes,” he stared the smith, ”-this one gave me a feeling of want.”
”The curved blade, I see,” he stood proudly with arms on the hips, ”-the one who first introduce it name it Phia for some god-damned reason. It's a good choice, not a starter blade exactly but a good choice nonetheless.”
”Phia,” thought she casually gawking.
”Jen,” said he.
”Yes?” her movements seemed a little drunkard.
”Why are you not with the others?”
”Don't know, I felt bored and tired of talking to Lampard. The Rena girl is as annoying as him I think.”
”Don't you have any filters?”
”Obviously not,” she laughed, ”-people hate how frank I am. Well, I guess that would go the same for you.”
”No actually,” he returned with sincerity, ”-frankness is the best way to make an ally.”
”Ohhh,” her head tilted as if a confused puppy, ”-that's interesting,” the monotonous tone could have said otherwise, -well then, Igna, I'm happy to be your first friend.”
”You really don't have a filter,” the last comment hurt a little, ”-thank you for the offer. I appreciate it, first friend,” they both laughed at the absurdity.
”What's with the two of them?” inquired Rena harshly.
”No idea,” mumbled Lampard staring at a student on the other team, a girl with green hair and blue eyes.
Over yonder on the podium, lady Haru sat with legs crossed. ”Melisa, are you sure that's the boy?”
”Yeah,” replied she, ”-he gives off a certain aura that's very much like that man.”
”I suppose you're right,” she smiled, ”-how he speaks is peculiar too. I can't help but wonder if our prayers have been answered. Let's not get our hopes up, this can still be a massive misunderstanding. After five long years, desperation can make one blind to reality.”
'I would argue that,” snarled the guild-lady softly.
'I wonder if he really is the man I think he is. That boy looks identical to the king, well, before he turned into a vampire. He doesn't recognize me and doesn't seem to remember anything. Are perhaps the words of Lady Courtney real? She said with certainty that he was alive. If that's true, I rather keep him here. It might be selfish. King or not, that boy is named Lyoko Igna, a person unbound by the responsibility of leading a nation. If he finds bliss here, then who am I to interject. Igna, if you vow to become a trader, then I'll vow to make sure the identity remains a secret. If fate wishes you to return, then I shall do so, however, for now, thee art but a teenager. Grow and show me what is to come.'
”Everyone line up,” yelled Fletcher once more. ”Group A will go first, second Group B, and lastly Group C. I see a few took the liberty of speaking with our smith. Good thinking, a weapon is crucial for this exercise. Group A, remain on the field. The rest of you, have a seat,” he gestured aggressively as if to push away flies.