In the castle’s training grounds, a heavily built man dashed with a broad shield in hand—it was black and had a winged dragon and crossed swords painted on its face, the insignia of the Order of Beast Hunters. In what seemed to be some kind of training in evasion, knights who had donned gray armor charged toward the shieldman, but he bashed their swords away and slammed them left and right. Most who were tossed to the ground managed to get back up, but once in a while, there were those who were sent flying through the air with loud thunks. Knights in red armor did their best to catch these men raining down, but not all of them received such a luxury, meaning some landed on the cold ground on their backs or bottoms—they instead received attention from a mage with healing magic and knights bearing potions. The man with the broad shield, Randolph, turned around and returned to where he’d come from. Though flinging armored knights must’ve taken a lot out of him, he continued in his role.
“That is incredible...”
“Randolph has always been quite skilled with the shield, but he now looks more capable than ever,” explained Griswald, the vice-captain.
Though Dahlia was standing far from the action, she felt the intensity of it all in her bones. The clashing of sword against shield and flying knights were honestly somewhat frightening, but as tough as the training was, there had never been any casualties or serious injuries before—something that could only be achieved through much practice with the broad shield, so Griswald had said.
This afternoon, Dahlia had come to the Beast Hunters’ headquarters to conduct improvements on the broad shield—which probably sounded like a bigger deal than it was, which was as simple as slapping some impact absorption material on. As for Randolph, he had requested padding about three fingerbreadths thick at the grip so as not to hinder his hold and about a fist’s width where the elbow and knee would contact when he used his full body to brace. Whereas Dahlia was barely able to lift up the broad shield, Randolph had flailed it around with one hand to test how it handled. He had also tested out added impact absorption on his leather gauntlets, but it wasn’t for him, as it hadn’t felt comfortable when paired with a sword—he often exchanged his broad shield for one, especially when eradicating monsters.
Two knights, who wielded a bow and a war hammer, respectively, had also been interested in applying the material to their gloves. The bow knight had asked whether it could be used for the fingers supporting the bow and the ones drawing the bowstring, while the other had wondered if it could be used to reduce the shock felt when striking with a war hammer. There was a lot that Dahlia wanted to know as well, so she had hoped to interview them at a later time. If it turned out to be viable, then she would turn to Jonas and other weaponmakers for further advice.
“Volf and the others are up next, and we may have the chance to see how they flipped over the giant boar.”
“Sorry? I thought this was training for evasion.”
“Volf slew the real deal last time by attacking its head from straight above. It’s as though he grew a pair of invisible wings this summer.” Griswald flashed a knowing smile; the invisible wings were due to Volf’s sköll bracelet.
“I have heard that Volf once took a shield to his celiac plexus during training...” Dahlia realized the sudden concern that was welling up inside her and looked away, and just then, there he was, standing at one edge of the training grounds and swinging a training sword that was on the longer side. Volf just so happened to be looking this way too, and he raised his left hand and smiled. Dorino raised both hands, and the two other knights with them laughed; they seemed not to be one bit nervous about the broad shield waiting for them.
“You needn’t worry, Master Dahlia. We knights are a tough bunch—the Scarlet Armors doubly so.” That Griswald had seen right through her made Dahlia blush a little.
When Dorino shouted, “Ready anytime,” Randolph crouched and hunkered behind his shield, then charged toward the group of knights. The first to take the challenge was Dorino, whose head-on blows were deflected. A loud clank reverberated through the air, and the tip of his sword separated and flew off in some direction. Dorino himself was then sent flying high, but he managed to do a flip and land safely on the ground before rushing forward again—a good sign that he hadn’t been hurt.
The two other knights rushed in afterward; the first struck from the right with his large training sword, and the second thrust with a blunted spear from the left in a marvelous display of coordination. However, Randolph swung his broad shield to redirect both weapons away, then whipped it back, striking his assailants with its edge. The attackers tumbled with the impact.
Up last was Volf. The tall and lean figure left but a red afterimage as he was smacked by the shield. As with the three before, there was a bit of time before he managed to land. He promptly changed directions and sped toward Randolph again. “You ain’t seen nothing yet!”
“Come at me!”
The black-haired bird soared through the sky, aiming his talons straight down at the man with the broad shield. But instead of covering himself, Randolph bent one knee and crouched down. “Hraaagh!” The next instant, an indescribable clash sent the falling youth rebounding into the sky—Volf practically reached the clouds.
“Volf!” Dahlia’s scream escaped her lips before she could swallow it. But the other Beast Hunters seemed to have been taken by surprise too, and they ran toward the scene.
Volf had taken the brunt of the broad shield like a ball being sent in the air; in her previous world, cheering would have accompanied this home run. After he crash-landed, he stood up but immediately sat back down and remained in that position. Dahlia desperately wanted to run to him like his squadmates did, but Griswald made a good point and said, “Volf needs to be examined for injuries,” and she was stopped in her tracks—she’d only get in the way if he needed medical attention. Volf sported a stiff smile as he spoke in a soft voice to the knights who gathered around him. As she worried more by the minute, one of the mages gave up his robe to cover Volf, and he was taken away.
“Is, um, is Volf okay? Please tell me he didn’t suffer any serious injuries...”
Dorino, who came by, answered her with a cheery smile. “He’s okay! It’s nothing serious at all. He’s going to get changed out of his dirtied clothes, and he’ll be back before you know it.”
“Oh, thank goodness...” But that only alleviated some of her anxiety. Seeing that Volf had been unable to move for a while there, it wasn’t unlikely that he’d broken or hurt something badly. Dahlia decided to ask him directly afterward.
As they sped toward the building, a black-haired mage confided words of advice. “Master Dahlia is filled with concern for you, Sir Volf—it might be a good idea to go see her after you get changed.”
Volf, who had the mage’s robes draped over his shoulders, clenched them tight in both hands. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
“The least one man can do for another. It’s quite the unexpected injury you have received, though.”
“Yes, I know. This has never happened to me, so I was quite flustered...”
The mage responded to Volf’s strained laugh with one of his own. “There is little you can do to train for something like this. Perhaps the trousers you wear to combat ought to be strengthened at the seat, as I have never seen quite so much damage before.”
“I’m with you there...” The whispering men hurried to enter the Beast Hunters’ building.
When he alighted from his carriage at the castle’s lot, all eyes immediately turned to him—the elderly man with white hair and beard had donned a dark gray suit of armor, a single deep navy combat boot, and a sky blue artificial leg. Supporting him was nary a cane, nor was he flanked by attendants; only a lone guard followed behind him. Most nobles tended to hide their prosthetic arms or hands; he, on the other hand, drew attention to it. People he passed by turned around to gawk, people stared from a distance, and people peeked out from behind closed windows, but not one person had any words for him aside from the usual greetings—rather, not one person dared to say anything more. The man puffed out his chest, took large steps, and kept his tawny eyes pointed straight ahead. Never had anyone so proudly and boldly walked in the castle with such a visible prosthesis before.