Chapter 8: Combat

It would be four days before Meera arrived with the news I had been waiting to hear, namely that a combat trainer had been selected for me. My days in the interim had been utterly boring; my earpiece was locked down like I’d expected, and other than Meera, nobody else seemed worth talking to. For her part, she continued to show up whenever I went out, thereby neutering my options for independent study.

She’s definitely tracking me. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get in her head before long and actually get some work done.

With seemingly no other options, I intended to continue plying Meera, attempting to worm my way in through the cult’s brainwashing. My identity and her perception of me was an important and valuable resource, but as it stood, it was my only resource. It would be bad to squander it by going too fast.

All of that said, this event could not have come a moment too soon. A diversion, no matter from where was sorely needed. It was all I could do to stop my voice from betraying my excitement at the prospect of doing literally anything else, “Then, when am I supposed to start?”

Meera made that hand gesture again,  “If you’re ready, I can take you to the elevators now.”

I grinned and bowed my head slightly, “Let me grab my things.”

Not that I had much to grab. Besides the clothes on my back, my only possession was the lightsaber. Considering this was my opportunity to begin learning to use it, leaving it behind seemed counterintuitive.

The walk from my room to the elevator was quick, but the constant staring and polite nods were tiresome. Any of these people would jump to comply with anything I said, but how they fulfilled that request was seldom useful to me. To make matters worse, the way everyone would just stop and stare at me had not become any less disconcerting and showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

The sooner I can get away from this, the better. It’s pretty clear what effect this is intended to have on me, and I don’t like it. Meera did say they would eventually stop, but it doesn’t seem like it.

The one saving grace was that, unless I initiated contact, the only thing they would do was stop and stare.

…They’re pretty clearly brainwashed, which will throw a wrench into my ‘kill everyone’ plan. Michael would be one thing; he has all of his faculties intact. But what about the workers…?

It would be a question I had to answer before I could act, though at the end of the day if it came down to them or me, I would pick me. At present, though, my knowledge was wholly inadequate. Hopefully, I could play my cards right with this instructor and learn more than combat. As with the first time riding up the tower, the city vista took my breath away.

It was night again; the lights glowed against a black sky as they crisscrossed it, tracing the patterns of buildings and roadways. Not that time mattered much from the inside of the building, what with the stark white walls and routines. This place ran on a thirty-hour clock called a “Rotation Cycle,” with each hour being divided into sixty minutes. Those were split into sixty seconds, with ten thirty-hour blocks to a cycle and three cycles to a unit. It was a rather stark way of counting time, but it did simplify things a decent amount. Three units were a quarter, and four quarters were a “Full Cycle.”

Despite the simplicity, that led to an odd state where the year was five days shorter, but twenty percent longer overall. Further complicating my understanding was that after my knowledge of how this world counted time had expanded, my Status had updated itself.

Where it had previously told me I was 19, it now read as 15. It wasn’t as though I’d gotten any younger; a look in the mirror told me I was still physically 19. It was as though my status had been displaying information in the Gregorian calendar, only to suddenly update itself to the local calendar when I learned the specifics. It was a fact my brain kept circling back around to, but one that I couldn’t exactly ask questions about without giving anything away.

I shook my head. Worrying about something I couldn’t control would get me nowhere. My time in the elevator would be better spent working to clear my mind. Even if my shift skill wouldn’t activate, it was still a good idea to go into combat training with as clear an outlook as possible.

Arriving at the top floor, the doors to my glass box whisked open. The room was rather as I remembered it, with the water and ornate furnishings. The only difference this time, as compared to the last, was the absence of a greeter. Not for a second did I doubt that I was unsupervised. Despite the temptation to poke around, there was every probability that doing that would get me swiftly found out.

Still, it’s eerie being alone up here. The only sound was the water bubbling… Why is it so uncomfortable…?

The best thing to do was probably to wait for someone to come for me, and with nothing better to do, I stepped around the elevator to stand by one of the large windows. The view of the city was the same as it had been a moment ago from within the elevator; breathtaking. But I could only be lost in it for so long before again beginning to grow uneasy. I did not fear heights; I simply felt that something was off.

Is there really nobody coming to get me? Then, am I supposed to find my way to the training room?

That was the only other thing I could think to do, assuming nobody came in the next few minutes. Despite having been up here the one time before, it wouldn’t be hard to navigate as the layout was far from complex. Given that Michael had previously only shown me two rooms; the entrance and the holodeck thing. After delaying for a good interval, I tore my eyes off the cityscape and tentatively approached the entrance room’s door.

As I approached, it swung open on its own. Across from me was the door that led to Michael’s room. The hallways were to the right and left, the same as last time. With a weird feeling of doing something wrong, I stepped out and proceeded down the left path. However, nothing stopped me, and I advanced down the hallway unopposed. The next door also opened for me, leading into the holodeck room, where I got my first look at my instructor.

It was a man who looked to be in the latter half of his fifties or early sixties. He had a short-cut white beard and a bald head. In terms of dress, he was not wearing the cultist’s jumpsuits but a rather loose-fitting robe that reminded me of something you might see on a samurai, except that it was bright neon pink. When I entered, he regarded me from where he was sitting with a critical eye. Unlike the cultists, who all stared with naked fascination, his look was appraising and contemplative. I could not shake the feeling that I was being evaluated, and I almost reflexively straightened my back while squaring up my shoulders.

After nearly a minute of silent appraisal, his gaze settled on my lightsaber, “Eira, I presume?”

Nobody had told me how to speak to my instructor, and I wasn’t sure about the exact hierarchy, so I defaulted to respect, “That is correct. May I ask your name…?”

He shook his head, “That is none of your concern; you may call me Sensei; it means teacher.”

You are reading story Demon Queen at novel35.com

He doesn’t look Japanese, but that word was definitely Japanese, not Hindish. More points to the “This is Earth” theory.

“As you wish, Sensei.”

His head bobbed in approval, “Good, let me see your REB.”

It took me a moment to realize that ‘REB’ was short for ‘Reflected Energy Blade,’ the actual name of my lightsaber. There wasn’t a real reason to refuse, so I unclipped it and passed it to him, after which he immediately cycled through the loaded templates and ignited it, “Excellent craftsmanship and a decent selection of beginner templates. Tell me, what do you know about Flow Fighting?”

“Not a thing. I have never even heard the term before.” That was one flaw in my language skill; I had general language knowledge but no technical terms. Both ‘Flow’ and ‘Fighting,’ but not ‘Flow Fighting.’ Other than what I could glean from the name itself, which wasn’t much, I was at a loss.

“Figures; Michael did say that you’d lost your memory. In short, Flow Fighting is the primary method of fighting with R-Class weapons. By constantly switching up your projection, you adapt to the changing battlefield and throw your opponents off guard.”

The explanation was helpful, but I latched onto the bit about Michael telling him how I’d ‘lost my memory’ that would indicate that Sensei was not a member of the cult. Or it could be a trap to lure me into saying something… but that was unlikely. I had not done anything that would make me suspicious. If it was the former, I could try and get some information out of him, though I’d have to be mindful that they might still be watching me.

“So, I’m supposed to switch between different projections constantly? That sounds… difficult.”

He nodded, “Yes, it is a high-level technique. Skilled practitioners will go so far as to grade themselves according to how many templates they can flow between; I use a Nine Template Kata.”

There was one sticking point, though, a little nagging thought I couldn’t quite shake, “What’s stopping someone from simply attacking at range…?”

If this was an established combat form, then such an obvious question doubtless had an answer, but if my instructor was incensed, he did not show it, “A fair question. Simply put, such attacks are ineffective unless collateral damage is an option. Individuals capable of obtaining and effectively using an R-Class weapon can almost always use an R-Class combat harness. The personal energy shield would render most conventional weapons ineffective.”

R-Class… That’s the second time that term has come up.

“Sensei, forgive my ignorance, but what exactly is an ‘R-Class’ weapon?”

Another nod, “The weapon classification category for weapons like your REB; weapons that use Reflected Energy as a power source.” As he answered my questions, he powered off my lightsaber and passed it back to me.

So it’s a classification, probably a legal term then… If that’s the case, then there are other types of weapons. I’d like to ask about those, but I don’t want to push my luck too much. I’ll have plenty of time to learn later on. Still, Energy Shields rendering the highest level of combat melee only? What kind of Dune shit is this?

“Now, if there are no further questions, I want to see you try fighting without instructions. To get a feel for your instincts.” Even though it was phrased as a suggestion or request, his tone made it obvious that further questions would not be taken now.

I palmed my lightsaber and verified that it was set to the longsword template, “Will I be sparing you then?”

“Ha! No. No offense, but it would be impossible for me to get any sort of feel for your innate abilities that way. No, you will be dueling a construct.” The laugh stung a bit, but he was probably right. I wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell if he could use nine templates. Not that fighting a construct was likely to go much better.

“Hmm, I think one of these would work out well as a starting point.” He had produced a pad from inside his robe and was scrolling through it. A moment later, a gigantic scaled rabbit-looking thing materialized in a light show similar to when Michael had been giving me that speech about perfection, “A Lugothin. It’s overall rather weak for its size, but do mind those claws.”

The creature had the same overall shape as a rabbit. Except for the part where the hind legs were the same as the forelegs. And the part where it was covered in scales instead of fur. And the part where it was almost six feet tall. And the part where its mouth was full of needle-like teeth instead of large incisors. And the part where…

Ok, not really a rabbit except for the general shape, ears, and tail. He says to mind the claws, but those teeth also look problematic.

The one saving grace was the fact that the Rabbit was just a projection, so it wouldn’t be able to hurt me if it hit. Or so I thought.

“And do remember that, much like your REB, it is made of solidified kinetic energy; I have blunted the pointy bits, but it will still hurt.”

Right, so much for that.

Since I didn’t know the first thing about sword fighting, or even my general weapons, I took a stance that knights often did in medieval movies and ignited the longsword. Since I was apparently supposed to cycle between the different modes, I took a moment to consider what each might be good for. It would help if I knew anything about this thing’s capabilities.