Amukelo: The Burdened Path

The next morning Amukelo, Bral, Idin, and Bao gathered outside the inn to move to facility. Amukelo adjusted his cloak, feeling an unusual sense of anticipation, Bral told him that he will not need his sword so he left it in the inn. 

Idin smirked as he glanced at Amukelo. "So, rookie, are you finally ready to join the facility?"

Amukelo nodded eagerly. "I can't wait."

Bral chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well, let's not waste time then. We've got a long day ahead."

With that, they set off, making their way through the city streets. After some time, they arrived at their destination. Amukelo stopped in his tracks, staring at the structure in front of him with an expression of pure skepticism. The building was... rough. 

The walls were worn and cracked, darkened with age and streaks of dirt. The wooden beams supporting the entrance looked weathered, some even appearing slightly warped. The roof had patches of moss clinging stubbornly to the tiles, and the entire structure seemed dangerously close to collapsing under its own weight. It looked less like a place for warriors to train and more like the kind of abandoned shack that superstitious villagers would warn their children to stay away from. 

Amukelo furrowed his brows. "Uhh... I don't know, guys. This building looks like the ones people avoided in my village. Are you sure this is the facility?"

Bral grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction. "Don't judge a book by its cover, rookie."

Amukelo shot him a doubtful glance. "I feel like this particular book is one stiff breeze away from falling apart."

Bral chuckled and gestured towards the walls. "Looks can be deceiving. This place is actually one of the strongest buildings in town."

Amukelo narrowed his eyes. "You're joking."

"Nope. The magic lies in the rune diagrams reinforcing the structure. They're carved into the foundation, the walls, the beams—everything. No matter how bad it looks, the runes keep the building from falling apart. They even repair any structural damage over time."

Idin nodded, arms crossed. "It doesn't need traditional maintenance, which is why it looks the way it does. But I promise you, this place has seen more battles than you can imagine, and it's still standing."

Amukelo exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. "Still doesn't look convincing."

Bral clapped him on the shoulder. "Trust me. You'll understand once we step inside."

Idin motioned towards the entrance. "Alright, let's stop standing here. We didn't come to gawk."

With that, they pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside. The change in atmosphere was immediate.

The interior was completely different from what Amukelo expected. Where the outside looked old and worn, the inside was solid, almost intimidating in its structure. The stone walls were thick, reinforced with iron beams that ran along the ceiling like the ribcage of some great beast. The floor was polished, smooth from years of footfalls, yet it still felt unyielding beneath their boots. 

Even the air was different inside, carrying the lingering scent of sweat, iron, and old leather, a mixture that immediately set the tone of the space. 

Amukelo blinked in surprise. He had expected dust and decay, but instead, the place felt alive. "Huh," he muttered. "It's... not what I expected."

Bral smirked. "Told you."

As they walked further inside, a man standing behind a stone counter looked up from a ledger. He was young, broad-shouldered, and well-built, with short dark hair and a sharp gaze. His posture was relaxed but disciplined, the kind that spoke of someone who had spent years honing his body. 

"Oh, Idin," the man said with familiarity before his eyes shifted to Bral. "And... Bral, right?"

Bral gave him a lazy salute. "That's me."

The man gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I'm still learning your names."

Bral shrugged. "No offense taken."

The man glanced at the large clock on the wall and said, "The morning class already finished, and the next one won't be until the evening. You know the schedule."

Idin waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, we know, Ewan. But we're here for something else."

Ewan raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Bral stepped forward, gesturing toward Amukelo. "We're here to introduce him to the place. He wants to train."

Ewan looked Amukelo up and down, assessing him. "New blood, huh? You look like you've already seen your fair share of fights."

Amukelo nodded. "I have. But I know I can get better."

Ewan smirked slightly. "That's the right attitude."

Bral then turned his attention to Bao and said, "Oh, and there's another thing. Do you guys train archers here, too?" 

Ewan tilted his head. "Archery's usually done at specialized ranges. We don't focus on it here, but what are you looking for exactly?"

Bral nodded toward Bao. "She's a skilled archer, but she wants to improve her close combat skills. Does this place have training for that?"

Ewan leaned back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest as he regarded Bao with a slight smirk. "There's nothing wrong with that at all," he said smoothly. "In fact, we already have a few archers who come here to train. When it comes to close combat, archers typically train in standard swordsmanship, just like any other fighter. The only difference is that they don't dedicate as much time to it as swordsmen do." He tilted his head slightly. "I assume you won't be looking to match their level of proficiency, though."

Bao nodded. "Exactly. I don't need to master it. I just need to be good enough to hold my own if someone closes the distance on me."

Ewan tapped his fingers against the wooden counter, considering her words. "That makes sense. Since your primary focus will always be ranged combat, you won't be able to get the absolute most out of this facility compared to someone who's fully dedicated to close-quarters combat, but you'll still improve. A lot, actually." He shot her a knowing look. "Though I doubt surpassing the top fighters here is your goal in the first place."

Bao smirked. "No. I just don't want to feel like a sitting duck if someone gets too close."

Ewan chuckled and nodded. "That's a good mindset to have." He then turned his gaze toward Amukelo, eyeing him with an amused expression. "And you… I assume you're a swordsman?"

Amukelo blinked. "Uh—yeah, I am. But… how do you know?"

Ewan's smirk widened. "It's obvious. The way you carry yourself, your posture, your stance. I've seen fighters my entire life. After a while, you can just tell." He shrugged as if it were second nature to him. "It's the same way I can tell a brawler from a disciplined duelist."

Amukelo's eyes widened slightly. "That's incredible."

Bral grinned, wrapping an arm around Amukelo's shoulders. "It's basically like your ability to sense monsters while fighting, but with people."

Amukelo looked up at Ewan with newfound admiration. "That's so cool… Do you think I can get to that level one day?"

Ewan chuckled at the enthusiasm. "With the right training? Absolutely. It just takes time and exposure."

Bral smirked. "And considering how stubborn you are when it comes to getting better, you'll probably pick it up quicker than most."

Amukelo nodded firmly, the determination in his eyes growing. "Yeah. I'll make sure of it."

Ewan nodded approvingly. "That's what I like to hear. Alright, so both of you would like to join the facility?"

Amukelo and Bao both nodded.

Ewan grabbed a ledger from beneath the counter and flipped it open, pulling out a quill. "Alright, then. There are just a few basic questions I need to ask. Nothing too serious, just things to get a rough idea of where you're at before your entry challenge."

"Entry challenge?" Amukelo repeated, brows raised.

Ewan nodded. "Everyone goes through it before they can officially train here. But don't worry too much—it's mostly just a formality to gauge where you stand. Your responses here will help give us a rough idea, but the challenge itself will be the real test."

Amukelo and Bao exchanged glances before nodding again.

"Alright," Ewan said, dipping the quill into ink. "Let's start with the basics." 

He asked them a series of questions about their combat experience, preferred fighting styles, and weapon choices, or if they are their adventurer's rank. Bao's responses were straightforward—she was an archer with some experience in short sword but little in direct melee combat. Amukelo's answers were a bit more difficult, as his combat style wasn't entirely standard. He explained how he relied on quick, calculated strikes rather than brute force and how he had honed his skills in the wilderness rather than under proper instruction.

Ewan seemed intrigued but made no comments as he scribbled down notes.

When they were done, Ewan glanced up. "Alright. That covers the basics."

He closed the ledger and set it aside before straightening up. "Now, the entry fee."

Amukelo's posture stiffened slightly. He hadn't really thought about the cost.

Ewan continued, "It's twenty gold coins."

Amukelo's eyes widened. "Twenty gold coins?!"

Bao, unfazed, nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Bral and Idin didn't even blink.

Ewan raised an eyebrow. "That's the standard fee. You're training under some of the best instructors in the city. It's not cheap."

Amukelo ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, I can afford it… but still."

Bral chuckled. "Relax, rookie. It's a solid investment."

Amukelo sighed, nodding in resignation. "Alright, alright."

Ewan then continued. "Now, before we proceed, which program are you enrolling in? Personal or group?"

Bao answered immediately. "Same as them."

Ewan nodded in acknowledgment but turned to Amukelo, who was still looking confused.

"What's the difference?" Amukelo asked.

Ewan leaned against the counter. "It's simple. In the group program, you train under an instructor alongside others, following a structured curriculum. The personal program, on the other hand, allows you to schedule training sessions at your own pace, receiving direct, one-on-one instruction from the teachers." He paused, then added, "Of course, there's a significant difference in cost between the two."

Amukelo hesitated, considering his options. The idea of personal training sounded appealing—having an experienced mentor focus solely on his growth could help him improve faster. But at the same time, he had never trained in a structured group setting before, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

Before he could voice his thoughts, Ewan gave him a knowing look. "If you're thinking about cost, I can tell you right now that the personal program is not cheap."

Amukelo frowned slightly. "How much are we talking?"

Ewan smirked. "Well for the group training its five gold coins every single month. Let's just say you'd be spending at least four times what you're paying for the group lessons."

Amukelo's brows shot up. "Four times?! That means at least twenty gold coins a month?!"

Bral whistled. "Yeah, personal instruction ain't cheap, rookie."