Training Class

As Amukelo finally reached the inn, he exhaled in relief, shifting Pao's weight slightly before gently setting her down. "We've finally arrived. You can get down now," he said, his voice slightly tired but amused.

Pao, still slightly groggy from the wine, wobbled for a moment before steadying herself. "Right, right…" she mumbled, brushing down her dress. Then she turned to the door and reached for the handle—only to find that it was still closed. She blinked at it in confusion.

Amukelo peered over her shoulder. "Bao must still be at the facility," he said, stepping back slightly.

Pao nodded absentmindedly, then reached into the small pouch tied at her waist to retrieve the room key. She fumbled around for a moment, her fingers searching, before her expression suddenly froze.

"Ughh… I don't think I have the key," she admitted, her voice small.

Amukelo sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "They must've fallen somewhere. Maybe when we were in the park, or when I was carrying you, or maybe you simply left them in the room," he said, shaking his head. "We could go back and look, but… I doubt we'd find them at this point."

Just as Pao opened her mouth to respond, the sound of voices drifted toward them from the hallway. Familiar voices.

They turned just in time to see Bral, Idin, and Bao walking toward them, fresh from their classes at the facility. Their conversation halted when they spotted Amukelo and Pao standing outside the room, looking vaguely guilty.

Bao narrowed her eyes. "Why are you just standing here?" she asked suspiciously.

Pao cleared her throat awkwardly. "Ughh… I folgot the key."

Bao blinked. "You… folgot?" she repeated, her face a mix of confusion and disbelief.

Then, as Pao shifted slightly, the faint scent of wine wafted through the air. Bao's face immediately flattened as she inhaled. "Oh, for the love of—"

Before she could finish, Bral's lips curled into a devilish grin as he looked at Idin, who was already grinning back at him like a mischievous child.

"Ohh… How was your… not date?" Bral asked in a sing-song tone, leaning in slightly.

Pao's face went red in an instant. "I—It wasn't—" she started, but Bral was already laughing.

"Hah! It looks like any 'issues' were resolved," he teased.

Before he could continue, Bao's patience ran out. With a swift punch to his gut, she cut off his laughter. "Just shut up," she muttered as Bral coughed dramatically, clutching his stomach.

Idin, still grinning, shook his head. "You had that one coming," he said.

Meanwhile, Bao turned back to Pao and Amukelo, sighing deeply. "Well… at least you two finally got things straightened out," she muttered, rubbing her temple.

She pulled out her own key and unlocked the door, pushing it open. "Come on, Pao," she said, stepping inside.

Pao followed, but just before disappearing into the room, she turned back and gave Amukelo a small, shy smile. "Thanks for today," she murmured before slipping inside.

Bral smirked, clearly still enjoying the situation. "So, rookie, how was your non-date?"

Idin grinned, "It looks like everything we had told you worked."

Amukelo exhaled deeply. "To my surprise... it did. Thanks."

Bral then patted him on his shoulder with a mock serious face. "We're always there for you, brother. You didn't even know this, but you needed us."

Amukelo looked at him with a flat face, to which only Bral grinned.

Inside the room, Bao closed the door and turned to Pao, who had already flopped onto the bed with a blissful sigh.

"Alright, let's hear it," Bao said, crossing her arms. "That girl you were so upset about was just part of a quest, wasn't she?"

Pao, still somewhat tipsy, nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! And look what I got!" She suddenly sat up and pulled out her grimoire, holding it up proudly. "Amukelo helped me buy it. I didn't have enough gold, and he paid for the rest."

Bao sighed, shaking her head. "That's great. Looks like there's no more issues, then."

But before she could say anything else, Pao gasped dramatically and held up her wrist. "Ohh! And look! He bought me this bracelet too."

Bao's gaze flickered to the silver bracelet with the delicate blue flowers adorning it. She paused, then looked away, muttering under her breath, "I can't believe the nonsense Bral and Idin poured into Amukelo actually worked."

Pao, however, was already off on a tangent, excitedly recounting every single detail of the 'non-date' to Bao, from their walk through the park to the restaurant, to the waiter giving them a bottle of wine because they were assumed to be a couple. She even dramatically reenacted her own embarrassment when Amukelo called her cute without realizing it.

Bao sat through it all, occasionally rolling her eyes but otherwise just letting her sister vent. As much as she hated to admit it, she was actually relieved. Pao had been distracted and anxious for days, but now, she seemed at peace. Even if she was drunk and rambling.

The morning came swiftly, and Amukelo woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed despite the previous night's events. Unlike Pao, who had drunk enough wine to get tipsy, for him the amount he drank wasn't big enough to have any lingering effects. He stretched his arms and ran a hand through his white hair, glancing around the dimly lit room. 

He quickly dressed in his usual training gear, strapping his belt securely and ensuring his boots were tightly laced. He knew today was his first real day of structured training at the facility, and he wasn't about to waste it.

As he left his room, he noticed Bral was still completely knocked out on his bed, his arm hanging off the side, snoring softly. Clearly, he had taken full advantage of his free morning. Amukelo chuckled slightly and shook his head.

As he stepped out of the inn's hallway, he spotted Idin already waiting by the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "Morning," Idin greeted, giving him a quick once-over. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Amukelo nodded. "I take it Bral's not coming?"

Idin snorted. "No. He has a class in the evening, and yesterday we got quite a beating, so I guess we can pick him up later."

"Sounds like a plan." 

As they entered the facility, the familiar sturdiness of the facility greeted them. They paused. "Guess this is where we split," Idin said, rolling his shoulders. "Meet back here after class?"

Amukelo nodded. "Yeah. Good luck with your session."

"You too," Idin replied before heading off toward his assigned training area.

Now alone, Amukelo made his way to the counter where Ewan was sorting through a stack of parchment. "Hey, Ewan," Amukelo greeted. "Do you know where my class is being held?"

Ewan barely looked up from his work as he responded. "Class B? You're in the biggest hall today."

Amukelo nodded in thanks and grabbed a wooden training sword and dagger before making his way down the familiar corridors. As he entered the large hall, he immediately spotted a gathering of around fifteen people standing in loose clusters. They weren't training yet—just chatting amongst themselves, stretching, or preparing their weapons.

Amukelo approached a young man near the edge of the group and asked, "Uh… is this Class B?"

The man glanced at him and nodded. "Yeah."

Before Amukelo could say anything else, another voice cut in from nearby. "Oh, it's you from yesterday. You fought Padrin, right?"

At the mention of Padrin's name, a ripple of murmurs spread through the group. Several people turned to look at him, their expressions shifting between curiosity and excitement. Some stepped closer, eager to hear about the match.

"Wait, you fought Padrin?" one of them asked.

"How was it? Is he really as strong as they say?"

"I heard he barely moved and still dominated. Is that true?"

Amukelo blinked, taken aback by the sudden swarm of attention. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a commanding voice cut through the chatter like a blade.

"Silence."

Instantly, the room quieted. Everyone turned toward the source of the voice.

A tall man stood near the center of the hall, his presence alone enough to command respect. He wasn't overly bulky, but his strong, well-defined physique suggested years of rigorous training. His expression was calm, yet his piercing gaze carried an air of quiet authority.

He stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, and let his eyes sweep over the class before settling on Amukelo.

"As you might have already realized," the instructor began, his voice firm yet composed, "today, we have a new member."

He took a few steps toward Amukelo before addressing the group once more. "This is Amukelo. He is skilled, but he makes some obvious mistakes."

Amukelo stiffened slightly at the blunt assessment, but he wasn't surprised. After his match with Padrin, he knew he had a long way to go.

"Today," the instructor continued, "we will begin with drills, during which I will personally help Amukelo correct his most glaring errors. Once that is done, we will move on to sparring."

The group listened intently, nodding along. Sparring was always an exciting part of training—an opportunity to test skills, strategies, and adaptability in a live setting.

The instructor then turned to Amukelo directly. "Everyone is required to complete at least five spars. But you, Amukelo… will fight every single person here."

Amukelo blinked. "Everyone?"

The instructor nodded. "Yes. You will have plenty of opportunities to correct your mistakes today."

A few of the students smirked, clearly entertained by the challenge placed upon him. Some exchanged glances, likely already planning how they would test the so-called "newcomer who fought Padrin."

Amukelo exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the wooden sword and dagger in his hands. 

This was going to be a long day.