Nyx began to speak, and Misaiya at once understood why Avalice had such an atrocious attrition rate.
It appeared that each class was the personal fief of their professor. The students were akin to serfs, subject to arbitrary dismissal at the professor’s whim. The headmaster was no doubt complicit — no, he was the ringleader, the overlord in this feudal analogy.
It was inane. Was this the norm in Genelogia? Or were Suanneipuan schools the outliers? Either way, Avalice was in dire need of pedagogical reform — but that was a goal for the long term. There were more pressing matters to attend to
now.
Avalice was a school that placed as much (if not more) emphasis on combat. Well cognizant of this, Misaiya had prepared and brought both his stationery and his equipment. Put all together, it was quite heavy and awkward to lug around concealed despite all the pockets his robes had, and made him yearn for the backpack that he had left back in the dormitories along with his luggage. There was no more cause for regret now, though.
His rifle made up over half of both the weight and the awkwardness, spare air reservoir and a tube of extra ammunition included. On the opposite extreme was the sling that he had earlier tried to turn into a noose, folded up neatly and tucked away somewhere safe, which was so light he had half-forgotten where exactly in his robes it was now. A machete and a walking stick which doubled as a laundry pole rounded out his melee options. Of course, Misaiya had very little real experience with most of these ‘weapons’.
Thankfully, this wasn’t meant to be a deathmatch, and he didn’t intend for it to become one.
Misaiya pointed his (unloaded) rifle at the ground and squeezed the trigger a couple dozen times. Each harmless puff of air reduced the pressure in the rifle’s reservoir and hence the danger it posed, should he end up using it during the bout. After firing a few live test shots into the ground, he seemed satisfied and slung the rifle his shoulder. Next, he collected a handful of pebbles lying around the arena — but slings could be very fatal, and even though he took the lightest practical bullets he could find, Misaiya was loathe to actually use them for that reason. The machete and pole didn't need any prep work, unless he planned on combining…
Nah. He’d kept his sparring partners waiting enough, and the sling still had its uses. Lastly, he stripped off his robes and placed them far away from the arena in a neatly folded stack, leaving him wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and khaki bermuda shorts.
As he jogged back, he began considering his options. Nyx had announced that ‘over half’ the class would be expelled, which implied that neither victory nor defeat were the ultimate factor informing his decisions. No-one
had to win in order to stay, and no-one was guaranteed to stay just because they had won. Now, that was all well and good, but either way he was still rather screwed. His odds of victory were… questionable. His ability to control mana was next to non-existent. Things were looking pretty good.
Misaiya was back at the section of the field where his fellow sparrers were. He took a good look at Yvaine, who he hadn’t previously met — a sylphlike girl, with an air of naïveté and gentle eyes, like a novice straight out of the nunnery. A magic-user much like Kress, most likely. But both of them seemed so harmless that he doubted either would initiate the three-way.
His apprehension wasn’t so apparent as he greeted them.
“Hello again, Kress — and you must be Yvaine.” Misaiya gave each of them a nod in turn. Checklist time. Machete: on his hip, ready to be drawn. Rifle: slung and loaded. The stick he held with his left hand, and he slipped a stone into the sling in his right. Honestly, Misaiya probably looked like some sort of super-shepherd.
Appearances aside, he was ready to get this done and over with.
”I am not much in favour of it, but it looks like we’ll have to fight each other.” To win without fighting is the greatest victory, but Misaiya was no general. He would have to settle for something lesser.
