The Demon Lord Is An Angel
Chapter 68: Training Day

Chapter 68: Training Day

Kir didn’t end up taking the extra days that Lumis had offered him.

The next morning, he turned up bright and early for the Arcane Knights, seeking out the Vice Commander to get himself situated.

He found most of the knight students already awake and gathered in the main courtyard; under the glow of the Academy above them. As soon as he saw people, Kir put his helmet on, glad it would hide his piercings.

"You’re almost late," the Vice Commander told him, before tossing him a heavy practice sword. "But at least you have your helmet already. Find a place for that fancy jacket, you’ll be with the other Academy students."

He gestured to one arc of the circular courtyard, where a trio of students was standing around in their shirts and Academy pants. A beastkin who resembled a black-furred cat was stretching near a skinny, emerald-skinned orc and a pale, rotund elf.

It was the orcish one who spoke up as Kir neared.

"Aren’t you a bit late to be joining this course?" she asked aggressively.

"That’s rude, Zharon," the elf said, his voice cracking a bit.

"Go run laps or something," she shot back.

"It’s okay," Kir said, "Yeah, I got moved here. Kind of a funny story..."

"Wait... aren’t you the first year who beat Daisy?" the elf asked. "This guy has five dueling wins, look at his tail!" he pointed.

"Second year, actually. I skipped most of the basics thanks to my entry exam. I’m Kir by the way," he stuck his hand out, almost equidistant to the three.

Almost as soon as the elf reached for his hand, the orc, Zhavon, slapped it away.

"I’m Zharon. He’s Gharash," she thumbed over at the elf. "The cat’s Praul."

"I can introduce myself," the cat boy said.

"Sorry, I thought you were here to be lazy," Zharon snarked back.

"And I thought you were here to get some muscles," Praul replied.

"Aren’t we all?" Kir asked, trying to be diplomatic with his tone.

Zharon and Gharash both seemed to take shadows into their eyes at that question.

Praul, however, leaned back against the wall. "Excuse the twins."

""We aren’t twins!"" the other two said at the same time.

"Could have fooled me," Praul chuckled. "Zharon’s father wants her to put on weight, and Gh’rash’s father wants him to lose some," Praul explained.

"I’m a fourth-year, by the way. These two are third-years. Nice helmet," his eyes flicked to Kir’s helm.

Kir saw their jackets on top of a nearby barrel. Third-years had yellow linings and edges and fourth-years had blue. He added his red-lined jacket to them right as someone clacked two pieces of wood together.

"Start warming up!" the Vice Commander shouted, and all around them was a flurry of activity as would-be knights started stretching and moving on their own.

Praul, for his part, simply stretched until his spine audibly popped before donning a leather cap that didn’t look like it fit him very well, his ears flicking out from crude flaps cut into it uncomfortably, and picking up his practice sword.

Zharon stretched like she was in a hurry and Gharash stretched like he was trying to take up as much time as possible.

For his part, Kir adjusted his helmet and dusted off the radial calisthenics he’d practiced when he’d trained under his mom, Darlae. After warmups they did laps around the circle. It was during the jog that Kir spotted someone he’d been hoping to avoid.

Lugh, Kir’s childhood bully and the one who’d stabbed him when he was twelve, was running with a gambeson, chainmail, gauntlets and greaves, his practice sword held in both hands across his chest. He looked rather like a soldier running with a rifle, Kir noted, right as Lugh sneered in his direction.

After running laps, the warmups proceeded to drills. Gharash took a bit of extra time to arrive, already sweating heavily in the cool morning air. By then, Praul and Zharon were squaring off, swinging mechanically from opposite each other.

"Just... need a minute... phew..." Gharash said to Kir.

"Take your time, I can find another partner if you need," Kir offered.

"No, I’m good... only have... another hour before real classes, heheh," Gharash stood straighter and fetched his practice sword and shield.

As he and Kir squared off, Kir heard armored footsteps approach.

"A goat versus a hog. This should be interesting," Lugh’s voice was filled with sneering, even if Kir couldn’t see him at the moment.

"Are you going to let him talk to you like that?" Gharash asked, keeping his voice low.

"What talk? All I hear is the wind," Kir said. "Let’s work on strikes and stances first."

Lugh and his friends continued to throw insults as Kir and Gharash got to work. Gharash mostly followed Kir’s lead in trying to ignore them, but at times he would lose focus.

"Hey, focus on me. You’re getting better, but you keep forgetting your stances," Kir said.

It was almost halfway to the end of the hour and Gharash would have to leave soon. Luckily an instructor came by and shooed Lugh away.

"You sound like a teacher," Gharash panted, after Kir corrected his stance yet again, trying to get across how it would help him distribute his bulk and enable either his strikes or defenses.

Kir shrugged. He remembered something of unarmed martial arts from his past life, and Darlae’s thorough instruction had given him a firm grasp of the basics. "My mom taught me the basics," he said. He gave Gharash a brief description of Darlae, his elven mom, but left out her name.

"She sounds like a Valrian."

"Valrian?" Kir asked.

"You’ve never heard of Valrians?" Gharash lowered his sword and shield. "They’re wandering warriors. Like, a nation without a land. More of a culture, really. Fascinating stuff..."

For the next few minutes, Gharash spoke in glowing terms of Valrians. The creed they all followed and the many feats they were known for. To Kir’s ears, given the frequency of Heavenswars, such a culture arising seemed like a natural response to adversity, preserving combat techniques from generation to generation. Being a diffused culture without regard for race, land, or lineage also ensured that they could never be destroyed, because some nations always survived.

On the other hand, Kir could also sense that Valrians were more out for their own personal glory, and the focus of their culture on seeking adversity made them sound like troublemakers.

"If you’d been born a valdren - a valdrian child - you’d have known because your mom would have put a weapon in your hands as soon as you turned five."

"Guess I’m lucky then," Kir chuckled.

The sound of the bell signaled that Gharash’s time had come to an end. His explanation of the Valrians had taken the rest of the period.

Kir shook his hand before he left. "It was nice to meet you," Kir said.

"Honestly that was the most I’ve learned since starting this course," Ghalrash smiled, returning the shake with a sweaty palm. "I’ll see you the day after tomorrow."

"See you then."

With that, the remaining Academy students withdrew to the platform that would take them back to the Academy and their classes.

That left Kir the sole Academy student amongst the Arcane Knights. Kir’s brow itched a bit under his helmet, but like it or not if he wanted to keep the seals hidden, he would need to wear it. He counted himself lucky he wasn’t phased by the heat.

As he remained with them through the short break, most of the looks Kir got from the Arcane Knight candidates were more curious than hostile. Lugh’s group was definitely an exception; about a dozen humans and a handful of elves and dwarves. Maybe twenty or so total that looked at Kir like he was a dirty dog padding through their pristine living room.

"Alright cadets," the Vice Commander announced as soon as the break ended. "We’ve got a new prospect, an Academy kid who’s in it with us for the rest of the season."

Everyone turned to look at Kir, who was standing with his Academy jacket over his shoulder. Realizing he should say something, he raised his free hand and gave a small wave. "I’m Kir Gale, son of Darlae and Brigit Gale."

If anyone recognized the names, there was no discernable reaction to Kir.

After a long moment, Vice Commander Dunn said, "Alright, that’s enough staring. What’s the first lesson of training?"

"Kill the warriors who came before you!" the cadets all shouted as one.

"Do you know what that means, Academy boy?" Dunn asked.

Kir opened and then closed his mouth. His old memories stirred, and a phrase came to mind. ’If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.’ but the meaning of the phrase escaped him almost as soon as he recalled it. So instead he settled for saying, "It sounds like what I’m here to learn."

Dunn chuckled. "I’d have been surprised if you had an answer. Since you are joining us for the rest of the season, I expect you to figure it out on your own, just the same as everyone else here." He cleared his throat, before raising his voice. "Now circle up for sparring! Anyone whose back hits the ground will run ten laps before they can go again!"