Dancing lessons

Thank you for the Power Stones, thanks to you one more chapter today. 

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Training Chaos: Web vs. Cam

The sun was higher in the sky now, Cam had already gone through the basics, stances, grips, and some basic spear thrusts, while Web had spent most of the time improvising. It wasn't so much training as it was... performance art.

"Alright, let's get serious now," Cam said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling the weight of his role as instructor. "We're going to practice controlled strikes today. That means precision, not wild swings."

Web, who had been watching a bird in the distance, immediately perked up. "Ah, precision! That's my specialty." He swung his spear in a graceful arc that nearly knocked over a training dummy. "You see, Cam? It's all about the flow."

Cam looked at him, deadpan. "Flow? That was more like a swing than a strike."

"Flowing strike!" Web insisted, twisting the spear in a way that was entirely unnecessary and, frankly, looked more like a dance move than anything that could be considered effective in battle. "It's all about the rhythm. You just have to feel it."

"Feel it?" Cam repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You're going to feel the ground if you don't start paying attention."

Albedo, who had been watching from the sidelines with an amused smile, couldn't help but join in. "I think Web's approach is... unconventional, but effective in its own way. If you want to confuse your enemies."

Web grinned at her, winking. "Exactly! They'll be so distracted by my moves, they won't even know what hit them."

"More like they'll be laughing themselves to death," Cam muttered under his breath.

"Alright, alright," Web said, feigning a serious tone. "Let's get down to business." He squared his shoulders, raised his spear, and attempted to charge at Cam, only to trip over a rock mid-step. His arms flailed as he tried to regain balance, finally catching himself just before face planting into the dirt.

Cam, unable to hide his grin, raised an eyebrow. "Was that part of the training? Because if it was, I think I need to take notes."

"No, no, just a minor misstep," Web said, brushing himself off and getting back up with exaggerated confidence. "It's all part of the process. Now, watch this." He squared his shoulders again, this time managing a slightly more controlled charge toward the training dummy. He thrust the spear forward, but instead of hitting the dummy in the chest, he managed to miss completely, landing the spear against the ground with a thud.

Albedo chuckled softly. "Well, that was... close. Sort of."

"I'm telling you, I'm just warming up." Web said with a grin, clearly undeterred. "Give me a minute, and I'll show you how it's done." He turned to Cam. "Your turn. Let's see how well you do without the flair."

Cam crossed his arms, his face as serious as ever. "Flair is what gets you killed, Web. But fine, I'll show you how it's done."

Cam took a few slow, measured steps toward the dummy. His posture was perfect and his movements precise. With one clean thrust, he punctured the dummy's chest with pinpoint accuracy, pulling the spear back and wiping it off with the kind of casual ease that came from years of practice.

"See?" Cam said, wiping his hands together as if the task were nothing. "Simple. Controlled. Efficient."

Web looked at him, then back at his own spear, and finally back to Cam. "That was impressive... but boring. I bet the enemy wouldn't even be surprised."

Cam raised an eyebrow. "Boring? Web, you can't win a fight on entertainment alone."

"No, no, that's where you're wrong," Web said, suddenly serious. "What if you confuse them? Make them think you're going to do one thing and then, bam! you do something completely different. They won't know how to react."

Cam shook his head, though he couldn't hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You're going to get us all killed one day, Web."

"Not if they're too busy trying to figure out what the heck I'm doing," Web said with a wink. "You've got to keep the enemy on their toes!"

"Well, at least you keep me on mine," Cam said dryly. "But let's see how your strategy works against someone who's actually trying to fight back."

"Bring it on," Web said, ready to go again. "But this time, you're going to have to keep up with my flow."

As Cam moved into a more defensive stance, Albedo watched them with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. 

"Alright, enough playing around," Albedo said with a smile, stepping forward. "We've got work to do, and you two are giving me a headache."

Web raised an eyebrow, grinning widely. "What can I say? We make training fun."

"Just don't get too creative."

Cam warned, shaking his head. "We've still got to survive this."

"Survive? Oh, come on," Web said, turning to face the group with a mock serious expression. "We're going to thrive! And if all else fails, we'll just dance our way out of danger."

Albedo laughed, shaking her head. "Well, I can't say it's not an interesting approach."

Banuk Training: Serious and... Not So Serious

The clearing was unusually quiet as the two Banuk, Orlok and Kiri, prepared for their training session. Their expressions were as intense as ever, their muscles taut and ready for action. The Banuk were known for their fierce determination, and they treated every moment of training like a matter of life and death.

Orlok, the larger of the two, stood tall, his spear gripped firmly in his hands, his stance rigid and disciplined. Kiri, smaller but no less fierce, had a similar intensity in her eyes, her bow slung across her back and her twin blades ready at her side.

"We train to survive," Orlok growled, his voice low and gravelly. "Focus, precision. One mistake and it could be your last."

Kiri nodded sharply, her gaze unwavering as the two began to spar, their movements were a blur of speed and precision. Orlok's strikes were calculated and powerful, each swing of his spear a potential deathblow. Kiri, agile and quick, danced around him.

Noir, who had been observing from a distance, raised an eyebrow at their intensity. He leaned against a tree, arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I feel like I'm watching a dance not a training session," he muttered to himself.

Kiri dodged another of Orlok's thrusts, but instead of countering, she took a step back, eyes glinting mischievously. "You're too predictable, Orlok," she said, her voice light despite the tension in the air. "You need to be more... fluid."

Orlok scowled, not pleased by her comment. "Fluid?" he repeated, his tone disbelieving. "This is a fight, Kiri. Not a dance."

"Oh, I think it's both," Kiri shot back with a wink, her blades flashing as she moved in for a quick strike.

Orlok's spear came down in a sweeping arc, narrowly missing Kiri. She twisted out of the way with an almost acrobatic grace, her laughter ringing out in the quiet clearing. "See? You're just not in the rhythm. You've got to flow with it."

Noir chuckled from his spot under the tree, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding before him. "A dance, huh?" he called out, loud enough for both Banuk to hear. "Seems to me like you're both about to break a few bones in the process."

Orlok shot Noir a sharp look. "This is not a time for jokes, we must train with purpose."

Kiri, ever the instigator, gave Noir a playful wink. "I think Noir's right, Orlok. You're too stiff. You should try a little flair like Web. You know, a little spin here and there." She demonstrated with an exaggerated flourish of her blades, twirling around in a circle.

Orlok raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Spin? We are not performing for an audience."

Noir, still leaning casually against the tree, raised both hands in mock surrender. "I don't know, Orlok. I think Kiri might be onto something. You could add a little pizzazz to your moves."

Kiri grinned at Noir's suggestion, clearly enjoying the banter. "Exactly! Why not show a little style while you're at it?" She ducked under Orlok's next strike and performed a ridiculously exaggerated twirl, then struck a dramatic pose, holding her blades out like a stage performer.

Orlok paused mid strike, staring at her in disbelief. "What are you doing, Kiri?"

Kiri flashed a bright smile. "Adding some flare to the fight, obviously. You should try it sometime."

Noir couldn't contain his laughter anymore. "You know, Orlok, I think she's onto something. You've got the strength, but you could use a bit of drama. Maybe throw in a cartwheel here and there?"

Orlok looked at him like he'd just suggested a ridiculous new form of combat. "I am not here to perform acrobatics," he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

Kiri, still in her dramatic pose, tilted her head at Noir. "Maybe you should teach him, Noir. You seem like the type who could use some... flair."

Noir chuckled, his arms still crossed. "I don't know, Kiri. I prefer my moves to be a bit more... practical."

"Practical?" Kiri raised an eyebrow. "What's practical about staring at the enemy and then charging in without a second thought?"

Orlok clenched his fists, ready to get back to business. "Enough with the games." he said, his voice sharp. "If you two are done with your jokes, we can continue training."

Noir grinned, clearly enjoying the playful tension. "You know, Orlok, I think Kiri's right. You could definitely use a little... performance. A little showmanship wouldn't hurt."

Orlok shot him a glare that could've frozen the sun. "One more word, Noir, and I'll demonstrate my real showmanship."

Kiri burst out laughing at the thought, and Noir, trying to hold back his own chuckles, shook his head. "Alright, alright, no more teasing. But, Orlok, I'll be watching. Don't be afraid to perform for us once in a while."

The two Banuk locked eyes, both refusing to back down, but the tension had lightened. Orlok grumbled something under his breath and prepared to resume the sparring, while Kiri, still smiling, continued to demonstrate her improvised moves. 

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For every 25 power stones a extra chapter.