Among the few residents of the range, was an older man. Unlike everyone else, he was not practicing at the range but spent his time talking to a few soldiers. After each discussion, the soldier would change something, whether that be their stance, grip, or something else. Dante thought this gentleman might be a teacher of some sort. He was perhaps the most visibly aged person Dante had seen yet, appearing to be his late forties. Even so, he stood strong and had a wiry frame that seemed as hardy as an ancient oak tree. He had stood out because he had bronze hair which had white running through it and weathered skin crisscrossed with too many scars to count.


    It was the first sign of age he had seen since coming to this world, though Dante supposed he was running with a specific crowd. He approached the old soldier and waited for him to finish his current instruction, where he was scrutinizing the bow form of a young woman. With a wooden switch, the man nudged her elbow further back and then barked an order. The women released and the arrow just missed a straw dummy about 100 feet away.


    “Vlāno sunt!” She cursed and Dante made sure to file that one away later. She went to stalk after it but was stopped when the switch blocked her path. The old soldier murmured a few words to her, then let her retrieve her arrow, more subdued.


    “Uh, hi?” He said, then winced. I need to sound assertive. The old warrior turned towards him and raised an eyebrow. Dante squared his shoulders and continued.


    “I want to …”


    He floundered, searching for the right word. Failing, he simply mimed like he was holding a crossbow, complete with a pow and a kickback as he mock fired. The old soldier continued to stare and Dante let his arms drop, feeling foolish. Trying a different tack, he dug around in his bag and brought out a handful of his remaining green coins. “To do that,” he said while pointing first at the coins, then at the range. When that failed to prompt a reaction he sighed and turned, ready to try his luck with someone else when the man finally spoke.


    “Three bronze.”


    Dante paused, contemplating the offer. He had twenty bronze left, so he could afford it. While he wanted to save up some of it, he needed some way to fight back. Being defensive all of the time simply wasn’t going to cut it. Besides, the first session was likely to be the most valuable. Counting out three of the coins, he turned around and deposited them into the man''s waiting hand. They quickly disappeared into a purse that the old soldier was wearing on his belt.


    “T’zonos,” said the old soldier and held his hand out. Dante finished the greeting by clasping his forearm and giving him a pat on the shoulder. His skin had the texture of old sandpaper and he had a solid grip.


    “Dante.”


    Introductions finished, he withdrew his hand. He didn’t think he would ever like doing that. T’zonos looked him over, a quizzical expression on his face. He spoke a question that was too quick for him to understand and had no words he knew anyway. So he said perhaps his most frequently spoken phrase in the last few days.


    “I don’t understand.”


    Comprehension and a look of annoyance appeared on the man''s face. Clearly, this was more than he bargained for. The T’zonos appeared to be searching for the right words, then spoke slowly in a manner that Dante was getting used to. Like one was speaking to a child or an idiot.


    “Where is your Wuvenlu?”


    I think he means my crossbow? Well, I don’t have that, but … Dante dug around his pack and brought out the quiver full of bolts that he had picked up when fighting his first Ahsmati. T’zonos looked at the bolts, then to him, then back to the bolts. When nothing else was forthcoming, T’zonos sighed loudly and brought his palm up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.


    “Two more bronze.”


    He was already in for this much, so passed two more bronze coins over. Upon receiving the money, T’zonos held up one finger and walked over to one of the patrons — another woman who Dante noted was carrying a worn crossbow. After a short discussion, the women handed the crossbow to T’zonos, received a coin in return, then left. Then, T’zonos marched back over to him and proffered the crossbow. Dante stared at him in shock before accepting it.


    I guess he knew that woman? Wait a minute, he only paid her one coin. I think I was robbed once again.


    Trying to keep the disgruntlement off his face, Dante drew back the string until it hooked over the trigger mechanism. It took more effort than he expected, the draw strength must have been pretty high, then he placed one of his bolts in its groove.


    I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. This thing is meant for war.


    It took a bit of fangling, as there was a leaf spring above the groove that he had to figure out. It appeared to hold the bolt in place, which was fortunate given that [Overloaded Warding Flesh] would have ejected it otherwise. He aimed with the crossbow, holding it like a rifle, something that he had some meager experience with, and realized that the thing didn’t have sights. While he was puzzling over how to aim the damn thing, he grunted as he felt the switch descended upon his back. It pushed him forward, straightening his back and making him move forward a hair. Then, the switch descended and pushed his front leg forward until his feet were shoulder width apart. Seeming satisfied for the moment, T’zonos stepped back and crossed his arms.


    Dante did his best to aim at the closest straw dummy, then hit the trigger. It kicked in his hands harder than he expected. He watched as the bolt flew down the range only to bury itself in the ground a short distance away from the target.


    I suppose it was a good thing that I shot that Ahsmati at close range. According to [Builder] It looks like I missed it by ten feet and the bolt traveled ninety feet. Which means that it drops about six feet for every ninety feet. If only I could tell what angle I am holding the crossbow at — oh apparently [Builder] can do that too. I bet I could come up with a system to calculate ranges. Though … probably not on the battlefield. I’ll add that to the list.


    Dante slotted another bolt and took another shot. This time, it went too high and flew over the dummy''s shoulder. This is going to take some time.


    He ended up staying at the range for most of the day. After T’zonos showed him how to aim, by tracing a line from fletching to bolt tip to the enemy, he managed to start hitting the target. Some of the time at least. He began to get an intuitive feel for it. Around that point, T’zonos left him alone to check on his other students. He came back occasionally to reinforce some of his previous points but otherwise seemed happy with Dante’s progress.


    Getting the bolts back proved to be a nerve-wracking affair. T’zonos had to teach him how to communicate with his neighbors to halt firing so he could pick them up. Even then, it was impossible to stop everyone so there were people still firing when he went down range. He just had to trust they knew what they were doing. Dante fell into a zen-like state and the hours flew by. Something was intoxicating about throwing himself into a new skill and getting better by leaps and bounds. His good mood was further enhanced when a [System] notification popped up.


    [Crossbow] has advanced to Level 3


    So training can level things up. Just slower. I suspected so, but it’s nice to have the confirmation.


    Like all good things, however, it came to an end. T’zonos tapped him on the shoulder after he had just retrieved his fired bolts. Dante turned to him quizzically.


    “Give me the crossbow,” T’zonos commanded and held a hand. It was getting dark anyways, so he handed it over reluctantly. Promising himself that he will buy one with the next paycheck, he turned to the rest of the field. It had cleared out substantially while he had been occupied, but was still busy.


    “What now?” He wondered out loud. His arms were tired from drawing the crossbow arm back so many times, but otherwise he still felt relatively fresh.


    I should take advantage of this moment of calm, it’s not going to last.


    “I have a thought on that.”


    Dante yelped and whirled around to find Pauwna smiling coyly at him. She had been right behind him, so close they could have been touching. There was no way she ended up there naturally as he had been standing at the edge of the archery range. She would have had to approach from the sides. Pauwna had snuck up. On him.


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    “Don’t do that!” He exclaimed, trying to still his heart. Ever since the battlefield, it had been easier for him to get startled. It had not been the first time this had happened. Once she had warmed up to him, Dante found that she would sometimes materialize right beside him. His reactions seemed to amuse her, so he assumed it was her idea of a joke.


    Pauwna cocked an eyebrow. “If you don’t like it, get better.”


    He grumbled at that, but couldn’t argue with that logic. From what he could tell, it was the common sense around here. Dante bought into it to a certain degree, he had ample evidence that it was true.


    “You had an idea?”


    She grinned at him then. It was a predatory grin, made all the more threatening by her pointy feline-like teeth. Dante would be lying if he said it didn’t make him a little nervous.


    “Follow,” Pauwna said and began strutting away. He did and they weaved through the crowd together. As they navigated through the somewhat hazardous space, he confirmed a suspicion that had been brewing in the back of his mind.


    No one moves for us.


    Instead, they had to maneuver around groups. Some, who were dressed shabbier than the norm, did look at them, but remained in their way. What cinched it for him was how they responded to Pauwna. No one even looked at her and some even seemed to move into her way intentionally. Pauwna seemed used to this and weaved through the crowd with an otherworldly grace that he found distracting.


    Is there a class or caste system at play here? It certainly would explain the treatment we have received. Like, that high-level women seemed to be royalty or some kind of ruling class.


    Pauwna halted and Dante glanced away from her figure to see where she had led them, then groaned. In front of them lay a row of the sandy pits he had noticed before. Fortunately, Pauwna seemed to have led them to some of the less extreme ones. The feats he saw here only bordered on superhuman instead of being full on impossible. The predatory grin from before suddenly made sense.


    She wants to spar. With me. I guess I need the training anyway. It’s not like I will always be able to choose who or where I am going to fight. Still, I have a feeling this is going to suck.


    Pauwna grabbed one of his hands and tugged him down into an unoccupied pit. The pit was rather large, having about a 30 foot diameter, and was mostly flat. When he entered it, sand was pushed away from him in ripples that stopped about half a foot away. When he walked further into the pit, he left tracks in the form of two straight lines. The sand itself was awkward to walk in and he wondered at its purpose. Once they were roughly in the center, she let go of his hand and walked a few paces away. She brought her guard up, lowering her center of mass and bringing her hands to guard the face. It reminded him of a few mixed martial art matches he had glimpsed.


    I hope that she knows what she''s doing. Based on what I’ve seen, she is way stronger than me. She could hurt me quite badly. Well, I have to trust somebody.


    And out of everyone he had come to know in this world, he trusted her the most.


    “No [Abilities], yes?”


    “Yes!” he called back, relieved. He didn’t know what he would have done if she came at him with those claws. Then he came to a sudden realization.


    “Wait. Can’t do [Overloaded Warding Flesh]. Uh, that is …” He lowered a hand towards the sand and a massively oversized handprint imposed on the sand, then pointed at it. Pauwna considered it for a second before shrugging.


    “Ein. Won’t help. Get ready”


    Dante copied Pauwna’s stance the best he could and braced himself. He didn’t know how she was going to attack him, but was sure that it was going to be fast. Hopefully the sand would slow her, not that he expected to win but —


    Pauwna leaped from the sand so fast that a cloud of dust billowed out. Then she was right in front of him. [Split Second Reactions] activated and he barely managed to dodge, stumbling to the side. Completely off balance, he was ill prepared for the foot that smashed against the back of his leg. He crashed to the ground and all the breath left him. He was now grateful that the ground was soft.


    As much as his body wanted to stop, he kept moving. Staying still was suicide in a fight. Dante fought to get to his feet, and Pauwna let him stand up again. She began circling him and he turned on his heels to follow her.


    “Good, you can take a reyva.”


    “Reyva?”


    She punched the air and nodded. A hit. This was good, she seemed willing to teach rather than just beating on him. Likely why she was moving at a speed he could react to. He had seen her move so much faster. So, he should probably concentrate on what —


    She blurred again and he raised his arms to block his face. He realized too late that it was a fient and her other hand smashed into his stomach. He bent over coughing and Pauwna resumed her pacing.


    “What [Level] are you?”


    While he was catching his breath, he considered if he should tell her. It seemed like valuable information, but he desperately needed any advice. He was operating in the dark when it came to that. Dante found that he was surprisingly ok with trusting her. She had gone out of her way to help him.


    “[Level] 4.”


    Pauwna paused in her pacing, a look of surprise flickering across her face. It was quickly replaced by disgust, but that was gone so fast he wondered if he had imagined it.


    Why would she be disgusted by that?


    “Hmmm, you have good constitution and fortitude. Bad strength. Bad alacrity, but helped by an ability. No good [Skills].”


    Shocked, he was quiet for a moment before asking incredulously: “How did you know?”


    “Auwur. Seeing and knowing. Important. Is the W?lian way. You will learn this. I teach now.”


    Rather than dashing at him before he could react, she slowly approached him. Dante backed up, his mind scrambling. The edge of the pit was close.


    Ok, let''s give this a try. She moves fast, which has to be related to dexterity or alacrity. She doesn’t hit hard comparitively, so low strength. Oh, she can also manipulate blood … Shit I don’t know what I can do with that.


    Then, his foot brushed against the edge and he was out of time. She struck again and he blocked. This time, he kept an eye on her and was able to duck over a backhand aimed at his face. He was feeling pretty good until an unseen kick impacted hard against the side of his face. He went careening through the air and landed near the center of the pit.


    That was the hardest hit he had taken yet. He felt dizzy and his nose hurt. He reached a hand up to touch it and it came away bloody. Pauwna filled his view as she crouched over him.


    “Better. But,” she prodded him in the chest with one sharp nail, “You think too much. Let me fight first. Lack fastness. Never do that. You try now.”


    Pauwna extended a hand, which Dante accepted, and pulled him to his feet. What followed was more instructional than before. She was adept at pushing him to his limits. Even with [Split Second Reactions] he could barely keep up with her. While he was not unfamiliar with fighting — he had been in many a scrap when he was a teenager — Dante was ignorant about how to fight well. Through brutal repetition. He learned how to pivot with a punch to impart more power, how to stand so that he was never off balance, and even how to kick. These lessons were not acquired gently and he soon had more bruises than he could count. He also received some more immediate benefits from his training.


    [Brawl] has advanced to Level 3.


    “How many are close to level 5?”


    Dante wasn’t surprised that Pauwna had figured out what distracted him. As they fought, she had fettered out generally the rest of his attributes and skills during their sparring. He could only hope to be that observant one day.


    “Two.”


    She considered that for a second then nodded. “We don’t leave until five. Tell me about them.”


    In the end, they didn’t leave until very late in the night, when they were the last on the field. They continued to spar but Pauwna raised her speed until he couldn’t react anymore. If that wasn’t enough, she would occasionally switch out her fist for a small blood blade. It wasn’t very strong and would shatter only after inflicting light cuts, but it was painful. Like having many paper cuts. If that wasn’t bad enough, she later had him cover his eyes and spar blind. That was truly awful, he stopped being able to block anything and his collection of injuries grew.


    Eventually, they had to stop. Despite taking frequent breaks, he was at his limit. The fact that he was able to fight this long was a testament to how far he had come.


    Dante had learned a lot though. During their fights, he increasingly grew used to her superhuman speed. More importantly, he began to figure out how much his body had changed. He was able to take hits that absolutely would have broken bones before. He had not realised how unfamiliar he had been with his own body. Dante had subconsciously been holding back, keeping to human limits. The blindfolded sparring highlighted this further. He could use the crunch of sand to intuit where Pauwna was. He could feel minute air currents against his skin right before she struck. However, he was still a long way from using those things in a real fight. There was something else too. Something he struggled to explain. It almost felt like he could feel things around him. Like his sense of touch extended into the air. It was very faint, but he swore that he could even sense things behind him. They stopped before he could figure out what was causing it, but he would certainly try to find out later.


    It had been all worth it in the end. As when he left the pit, it was with new notifications.


    [Sharpen Senses] has advanced to level 5


    [Specializations] are available


    [Split Second Reactions] has advanced to level 5


    [Specializations] are available