75 WARP

With breakfast over and the naming ceremony finished, the first portion of the day was coming to a close.

Claude had taken his seat once again.

Mercia smiled at Claude, "I get you." Her skin was pale— but he felt like it was supposed to be tan. "My first hero name was Lady Lago."

Claude didn't understand. Mercia seemed to be able to surmise that fact from her echolocating ability as she tapped her clawed finger on the table around him, "Murcielago. Bat in Spanish. Bat-lady. Cute, right?"

Claude nodded, "That's cool…. What is it now?"

Dahmir and Stanley sighed.

"Sexy Blood-Queen Beauty Bat-Woman."

Claude laughed.

Mercia stared at him with a straight face. Her dark blindfold held her curly brown hair over her ears.

"Oh… you're serious." Claude said.

"Yea, and you're a dick— just like the rest of them." Mercia crossed her arms and pouted.

"Wh—….." Claude looked to Dahmir and Stanley as the mess-hall settled and the H.M and Professors discussed.

Dahmir shook his head, face going deathly still, "You failed the test."

"Wait— what test?" Claude looked over to Stanley.

The masculine giant sighed, "What you think, boss? Banish him?"

"Man what the hell is happening?" Claude asked, "What test?"

Dahmir looked over at Mercia— who was still pouting. Then he looked to Stanley.

Immediately he started laughing.

Mercia joined in with wide open mouthed cackles. She didn't care that it was drawing the others attention. Stanley let off a series of big booming chuckles.

Claude sighed, "I can't escape inside jokes."

"Yea. We do that from time to time." Dahmir said, "Brutal hazing ritual, right?"

"The worst…" Claude dusted himself off, instantly realizing how they reminded him of home in a weird way. "They'd fit at the kennel." He thought warmly.

"At least we don't make you scrub toilets and massage our feet like V." Stanley said.

"She does that?"

Dahmir nodded, "She's a wild one."

"I'll pray for Samuel." Claude thought before turning back to Mercia, "So what's your actual name?"

"…..Sexy Blood-Queen Beauty Bat-Woman. Have you not been paying attention?"

"O—"

"Students, give me your attention." H.M Alaric interrupted.

They all silenced.

"In the next few minutes, your house Champions will take you to your rooms. Get situated, take a break and be ready for your first class of the day in the next hour."

The students go to their feet.

"As for my island gauntlet victors, on me."

Claude, Naz, Isaac and Samuel approached the podium, standing in formation before the Headmaster.

Samuel looked better off than when Claude had last seen him. He gained back some of his body fat and got a new uniform that wasn't simply a burned husk of dry armor. Otherwise he was the same. Deadfaced, blonde and ruggedly handsome.

Isaac had changed out the style of his braids and now opted for more jagged designs.

Naz was Naz.

As they stood in the bustling open room, they waited. In time, it emptied.

"Let's g—" H.M Alaric didn't even get to lead them out at last before a front desk worker came into the room with an urgent look on their face.

"Headmaster, your presence is needed. The SAS Representative is here….. with…. Others." The desk-working woman said, bumbling along as she found the students standing before him.

"Here? Who the hell let them in?" Headmaster Alaric questioned.

"They came in through the portal room. With…. assistance."

Claude didn't like what he was hearing or the way the Headmaster balled his fists above them. "Excuse me." He said to the students and walked across the messhall to speak with the desk-worker privately. They disappeared around the corner. Claude could hear their clacking footsteps in the distance.

"Relax." Isaac said to Claude as he leaned out of rank to whisper across his distant cousin, Naz's backside, "SAS Representatives come to agitate. But they aren't violent….. usually."

"SAS?"

"Saints of Anti-Slaughter. It's the usual monster-rights protest group." Isaac explained, "They think the monsters are just acting on instinct. That they shouldn't be actively killed and hunted for sport or dissected for research."

"They're like you." Samuel said without looking away from podium.

"No." Isaac disagreed, "They're a bit more extreme. And most don't really stand on their beliefs. They like seeming morally superior— posturing is the word. The others are just…. crazy. I mean it's not like Claude was ever going around refusing to kill any monsters. He just loves animals."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Firebrain." Samuel said casually.

"And you do?" Naz asked Samuel.

"Always."

Naz turned to Claude, "My English is….. not good. You know this?"

"I do." Claude nodded.

"So…. did always just start to mean never as well, or did I miss this in my language studies?"

Isaac chuckled softly.

Before Claude or Samuel could say anything more, Headmaster Alaric returned.

Claude knew his previous assumption was wrong even before he turned. An overpowering scent of crappy cologne and alcohol filled the mess hall.

"Victors….. and flashy failure, you're with me." A rough and throaty voice called to them as they all turned.

Claude expected a greasy haired savage in human skin based on the voice but what he saw was….. mundane?

He did have long black hair, but it was combed and washed and tied up at the back of his head. The tightness of it seemed to emphasize his balding, giving him a near predatory widows peak. His skin was pale and pasty but unscarred. Meaning he was either a non combative professor or the greatest combatant.

Claude didn't want to assume the ladder but he moved gracefully. He was smooth and light on his feet as he approached.

"The Headmaster had some business to attend to. So, I've been assigned to take over your little…. shopping spree, heh." He wore the university uniform with a dark overcoat. "You may call me, Professor Whitechapel."

Naz stepped forward, grabbing Claude's attention.

"Hey there, little winner." Prof. Whitechapel said.

Naz studied him silently.

Prof. Whitechapel's smile faded if only slightly. His nostrils flared. As if he was scenting her to figure out her intentions.

"Beast-tamer?" Claude wasn't used to seeing the gesture on anyone but himself.

An awkward silence spread. Before it could continue Samuel intervened.

"Let's go."

Prof. Whitechapel looked away from Naz as Claude grabbed her hand. His smile widened.

"Oh but of course, young prince!" Prof. Whitechapel bowed curtly and turned on his booted heels, "Follow me!"

He led them out of the mess-hall and down the now emptied halls of the university.

Claude was still struck by its gothic modern hybrid beauty with its simplistic gilded dark walls and gleaming chandeliers.

"The place is big, but you'll find your way."

"Right." Isaac said. "So, what do you teach?"

"History and human conflict. It's a second and third-year class. You know, they've already got the basics of monster combat down. It's my job to remind them how equally monstrous the human psyche can be. Anyone can be a monster if we are all hunters. All it takes is switching your target." Prof. Whitechapel sparred a glance back at Samuel.

Samuel was too busy being Samuel to show that he cared.

"How many years have you taught?" Claude asked as they headed down a set of spiral stairs in the entrance hall.

"Unofficially? I've been teaching lessons for decades. Officially? This is my first gig."

They reached the bottom floor— or lower floor, if the buildings rise was as intense as it's descent.

The aesthetic changed. There was no more art. The walls lost their painted sheen— even cracking in some areas and the floors were flat stone.

"This is the Arms Compound." Prof. Whitechapel explained, "Weapons, armor, dangerous spells. It's all here."

"Cool." Isaac said.

Claude was no longer studying the meager and militaristic bunker as he walked beside Naz. Her brows were close in thought as she bit her lip.

"You alright?" Claude whispered.

Naz nodded, "Yes. I am only thinking."

"About what?" Claude asked as they approached a large steel door guarded by two armored tanks.

"Memories." Naz replied as Prof. Whitechapel dug into his pocket and pulled out a card to show the guards.

They stepped aside pressed their gloved hands to the door.

Circles in the metal blocks posing as doors glimmered, spreading through the fissures in the steel framework until the whole door was covered in runes connected by mana wiring in stringy sequences.

Finally, it opened with a pulse of magic.

Prof. Whitechapel shivered and entered. They followed after him.

Claude found himself stepping into Beargrins Blades the upgraded version.

It was both larger and had a more unique array of weapons and offensive spells.

They had everything from guns and swords to specialized slingshots, blast-maces and experimental items he didn't even know the names of.

"Come on in." The weaponsmith said as he leaned over his glass counter. A thousand knives were laid on felt pads beneath him.

"Ohhhhh yea…." Isaac and Samuel rushed in to claim their items.

"Your voucher is in my hands to choose wisely and I'll get you situated." Prof. Whitechapel said before waving them off.

Claude left with Naz. She was still off, but seemed to shake off the worst of it as she tightened her bun of dreads at her back.

"So, you're going for a spell. To be honest, I didn't expect that." Claude said as they approached the leftmost wall where scrolls, books and sheet threads were hung up and in small shelves.

"Why did you not expect this?" Naz asked as she looked them over intently.

"Well, you're a physical class."

"Am I?"

"Well y—….." It was only then that Claude realized he didn't know Naz's class. He knew everyone's class. "How did I miss that?" He thought before asking, "What is your class? I just assumed swordsman."

Naz looked over at him and smiled. "Swordsmen have spells."

"True. But it's rarely their first pick when forming a kit. Is this for something specific?" Claude asked.

"No." Naz said as she picked up a book. It was black leather with a branded logo of flaming crossed arms gripping two daggers.

"Fire enhancement guide. It's an element spell-book for offensive enhancements." Claude said.

Naz put it back and continued looking, "Back home, we didn't have these…. books. Not enough trees and we can only import the most important."

"What did you use for spells if there weren't books?" Claude asked.

"Skins." Naz replied casually as she flipped through a spellbook on manipulating the iron in one's blood to form natural weapons.

"Ouch." Claude said.

"Is very good. The more fresh the skin, the more strong the spell. The magic empowers. But it has to be the right skin for the right spell." Naz said as she ran her hands over a line of scrolls. Illusion spells. Afterimage manipulation. Aura shaping.

"That the one you want?" Claude asked.

"No." Naz said before going over to the elemental spells and grabbing a nature based spellbook.

"Now for your weapon." She said with a smile.

"Sure."

"You go first." Naz said.

"….Ok..?" Claude was confused by the request but turned and headed to the weapons side of the shop anyway with Naz close behind.

"There are many good swords here." Naz said as she came up to stand beside him.

"Ronin's influence on New Gloria is obvious." Claude said as he looked around, finding Samuel arrive at the spell side of the shop. Prof. Whitechapel watched him from the front desk as he chatted up the owner.

"Who influences you?"

Claude ran his fingers along the hilt of a great sword with a chain extension named Rebel-Reacher.

"People that don't exist I guess…."

Naz made a face, "I do not understand."

"I was influenced by books. Stories. The Hemp-Knight…. Sword-Lord…. The Savior-Seven." Claude said. Naz still looked confused, "Characters in books."

"Oh… I see. And what weapons did they use?" Naz asked.

"Not the ones I use." Claude replied as he approached the spears.

"They say you aren't built for this." Naz looked from him to the spear.

"That's the thing about building." Claude said as he eyed a unique looking spear and gauntlet left off to the side on the ground, "You can't say what it is until it's finishe—"

"Ahh— you don't want that, kid."

Claude and Naz turned around.

Prof. Whitechapel and the weaponsmith approached.

"Why?" Claude asked.

"Faulty weapon."

It didn't look faulty. The spear was beautiful. Fittingly, shorter than the others by a couple inches. But thicker. The shaft was wrapped in a second layer of metals and leather. The blade was like a nail. Twisting gruesome metal that glinted with the light of runes. Similarly to the engraved portion of the shaft where another rune gleamed.

"I like it." Claude said.

"Yea for now. It's a prototype. Been tested by our best lancers. They returned it for a reason."

"What's the reason?" Claude asked, "If you don't mind."

"Persistent runt, aye?" Prof. Whitechapel joked.

"You see that gauntlet?"

Claude nodded and picked it up. It was a leather glove with metal sectional guardings. It too, had matching runes.

"The gauntlet and spear work together with experimental warp-runes. It's a style of portal-craft that's a little more violent. We figured if we could apply it to weapons it would be a new way to damage the enemy. The idea was, you throw the spear— once it makes contact, you activate the warp runes on your gauntlet. Then boom, the spear warps back into your hand. But on the way out, it rips into the enemy just a little more."

Claude was amazed, "Not only does it remove the drawback of throwing your spear in combat, but it also doubles as a second attack. That's a serious dps upgrade."

"Get this." The weaponsmith added, "A built in flaw in the rune-writing causes the weapon to overheat."

"Fire-spear….. that teleports." Claude said.

"The only problem is, the flames intensity varies based on warp distance. It's unsafe and makes it harder to use in combat after activating the warp runes. So, it's a dud."

"Does that make it cheaper?" Claude asked.

"That makes it trash. Do you know English?"

"I would like this one." Claude said to Prof. Whitechapel, but he was looking elsewhere.

At Samuel.

"Professor—"

"What? Oh, sure."

"You're co-signing this?" The weaponsmith asked.

"Yea. He either learns or he leads, right?" Prof. Whitechapel shrugged.

"Very well." The weaponsmith sighed, "Be careful kid."

"Don't worry, sir. He's got a fire-element expert with him at all times." Isaac approached with a helmet that was all too fitting for his namesake.

It was an Elemental Expressioner's Helm. Isaac slid on the helmet. It was a classic steel knights helmet. The one full of holes instead of a visor. Only each hole was covered by a rare gem I fished lining.

Isaac coughed and suddenly arcs of bright red fire flowed from the holes, giving him a mane of fire.

"HOHOHO!!!! It's so easy... this is amazing."

"Not in here, hotshot." The weaponsmith said. "You're gonna cause an explosion."

Isaac took off the helmet, "My bad."

The weaponsmith turned back to Claude, "You sure you want that?"

Claude nodded, "Does it have a name?"

"It's called a Warp-Fire Javelin."

Claude slid on the gauntlet and held the spear.

Naz stepped forward again suddenly, facing Prof. Whitechapel.

"Do I know you?"

Prof. Whitechapel wasn't even paying attention.

He was instead watching Samuel choose his spell.

"Great." Claude said, "Our history teacher is a fanboy."