Captain instantly broke the bladelock. Joe heard the sound of two metals clashing. Alchfrid was holding his saber near his chest, and a noticeable smoke was coming from the edge of his weapon.
“You daredevil, you! I knew you were going to do it! Being a marksman suits you way better, after all!”
He didn’t sound even a little bit mad. Quite the opposite - Captain was proud of him!
Joseph looked at the floor. There was a hole, where the bullet landed. He just realized, what he actually tried to do.
His eyes widened in horror.
Alchfrid chuckled, seeing his distress.
“What, afraid I’m gonna get you for putting a lead in me? I am made of much stronger stuff, than any soft human. A couple pieces aren’t enough to even be a bother. Besides, not like you would have been able to reach me with your trick, anyway.”
Seeing the hole in the floor was the best proof Joe could ever get for Captain’s words.
“You deflected a bullet, and at point-blank too… I didn’t know that was possible.”
Alchfrid laughed.
“And yet, you shot me anyway. Wrong, lad. Deflecting a single bullet itself, or even worse, a hail of them, at any distance, is a very hard task even for masters of fencing and reaction. No, I didn’t deflect the bullet.”
“You… guessed my intentions?”
His teacher nodded.
“Partially. I was looking at your movements - sometimes, your free hand was unconsciously going for the gun. And when it moved during our moment, I reacted. Simple as that.”
It was very simple, true. He wished he could read an opponent during a fight with similar proficiency…
“But we are not done here, lad. Your form is not up to par, that much is clear, but the potential is still there. However, your body and mind both need a lot of work. You have to throw away both your doubts and your poisonous chivalry. They have no place on the battlefield.”
Alchfrid turned his head to the island.
“You survived the monsters, but they were of no concern to you. When you face a living, breathing, and thinking being, one just like you, it will be different. You won’t have the time to think twice about what you have to do."
They locked gazes. Joseph understood.
“So until then, let’s work on your basic skills and mindset. I will allow you to use everything you can, but for the first round, pistols are out. Use the rest of your body, feel it fully!”
*****
He was dead.
Come on bredda, get up! You did well, see!
He was welcoming Her with his open arms…
Darling, if you are not getting yourself together, I will kill you myself!
Fine, he’ll get up. Just a few minutes more…
It was the middle of the night. He and Captain went at it for a couple of hours, both were only becoming more heated, as their training was picking up the pace.
He didn’t win a single fight, but he was proud of what he did manage to accomplish in such a short time. He remembered how to properly move again, how to react and read (somewhat) his opponent’s intentions, and how to punch and kick right! Mostly.
In the middle of their fourth round, he jabbed Alchfrid right in his face with his left hand. It backfired, obliviously, as punching a tree is never a brilliant idea, no matter if the tree in question tries to kill-slash-fight you, or not. Alchfrid was laughing for several minutes straight at such a majestic blunder, even going into their fifth round still chuckling.
Captain was not even hiding that he going easy on him all this time, but at the end, Joe somewhat managed to last one round for long enough. Captain concluded, that it might be way better for Joseph to focus on hand-to-hand and his gun skills instead. He also told him that Xander could possibly agree to teach him his fighting techniques if the quartermaster ever gets some free time for it. Alchfrid promised to speak with him, but the final decision was on Joe alone.
He was going to take the offer. It could be a very good opportunity for him to iron out his long-forgotten abilities.
And he did get two new skills for the System out of it.
Skill: Sword Mastery - Added.
Skill: Hand-to-Hand - Added.
More like remembered, really.
Alchfrid’s next lesson was going to be about controlling a ship, and it was very much that one lesson Joe was looking forward to.
But for now, it was empty, serene nighttime. He did visit the Kitchen earlier, sneaking, while making himself a couple of big sandwiches.
Ralf was still nowhere to be found. The Medbay was locked, which meant that all conversations with doctors had to wait until morning.
He opened ‘The Ways of the World’.
He closed it immediately.
The amount of weirdly worded, loaded text with unfamiliar terms had killed any enthusiasm he had for reading this monstrosity in an instant.
He wasn’t going to give up that easily, but he decided that it just wasn’t the right day for it yet. It was the middle of the night, he was tired after training…
Excuses, soldier! Open this book, and tear it apart, march!
Sorry, Resolve - even he had some days when his Spirit just wasn’t cutting it. She was right, but he could do something else too. Joe stood up and left the Arsenal.
The ship was dead quiet. Occasionally, some sailors were walking around, doing their own tasks. Some of them were nodding to him on the way - Joe was returning the gesture - but almost every single one of them was busy in one way or another.
He heard laughter behind some closed doors in Crew Deck. He contemplated knocking, but didn’t want to intrude.
His legs were carrying him in two different directions. Wardroom, or Hold? He wanted to get the permission, but if no one would be there - or actually, even better, if Ralf, or Xander are already there, he could ask for permanent access right away. On the other hand, his hands were itching to try his new metal companions in action.
He reached his hand into the pocket to flip a coin.
He had absolutely no money on him.
“Well, that’s an issue I didn’t expect…”
But you should’ve, partner! What is the world without money?!
A good one?
Wrong! I mean, right, but wrong at this very moment! It was the Capitalism, that made your complacent old life possible in the first place!
True. He wasn’t going to topple this world’s economic system without getting at least some Zinks for himself.
Bredda… I suggest you visit the Wardroom first. You can always get your shooty-triggy finger fed some time later, see?
Smart, Understanding. Then he was going to follow his - own(?) - advice?
He had no idea, were the Stats truly sentient, or were just part of his subtly growing schizophrenia, that he got from the island. Maybe.
The pronouns were sometimes getting confusing, for sure.
Joe pushed the door into the Wardroom, only to be greeted by the fantastic scene of one scaly cat, one spherical human, and one lizard-like humanoid with a large maw, all together playing some cards.
“Ha! Take this Platoon, you piece of dog dong!”
“Platoon?! You don’t respect me, Ralf?! I shove this Brigade up your arse!”
“A waste. I get both of you now.”
“What is this, why the throwing of a perfectly good Legion? Pass here.”
“Pass?! I am going all out! Here, take my Corps, another Corps, then I sacrifice a Legion for a Daemon!”
“Holy void, you went mad with power, Zan. Greg, what’s your take?”
“...I’ll pass.”
“Well, too bad for you. Pass here.”
“Hoping for a lucky draw? One turn gone, you have only two! What, nothing to use to get me, idiots?!”
Ralf chuckled.
“Look at him, all motivated. Greg, we got some work to do! Knock this furry chicken off his nest!”
“...Right. Here, I cover both Corps with Army. Have anything for the Legion Daemon?”
“Sure! Deity for Daemon, comin’ right up!”
Xander was beating a rhythm with his fingers on the table.
“... You do know this is only a Stalemate, right?”
Grigory flushed down an entire cup, full of wine, right inside his maw.
“Platoon for you.”
“Oh no, you don’t! Brigade, counterattack!”
“And Squad too!”
“Wait, why are you teaming up again, you already broke my Fort?!”
“That’s what you get!”
“My turn now. Ralf, this is yours.”
“Wha-?! Why you dump an entire fucking Army on me all of the sudden?!! You backstabbing son-of-the-hoe!!!”
“What, nothing to answer, Ralf?! Imagine, how I feel!!”
The cook swore, gulped an entire bottle in mere seconds, then slammed it on the table, making everything shake.
“You… you, fur-brain, and you, scaled barbecue, I’ll get you next round. Pass.”
The rhevalian sprawled back in the chair, putting his legs on the table.
“Well, seems like our terrifying armsmaster is ready to run all the way back to his mama! What’cha got for me, scaly?”
“It’s your turn.”
“I take a pass on that.”
Grigory pulled out three cards, holding them with two fingers like he was ready to throw them into the dragoncat’s face.
“A Front.” He put down three cards in front of him.
Xander almost fell down from the chair.
“What kind of horse shit is this, where would you get that?!”
Grigory shrugged.
“I just got a second Daemon, top deck.”
Xander and Ralf exchanged glances. Grigory shuddered and awkwardly moved his chair further away.
“Shit… Zan, I only have one Army and one Corps.”
“I have two Corps. We just need one more.”
“Wait, you had three Corps all this time?!”
“Yes. Take your second free turn, Greg. It won’t last for long.”
Joseph was leaning on the door frame, trying to figure out the rules. So far, he couldn't grasp what was even happening. He had a few guesses - namely, how interactions between cards worked in general, and which categories were following what, but the winning condition of the game was eluding him still.
Also, was Xander drunk, or what kind of bee bit his ass, because the quartermaster was so fired up, he could replace every single lamp in the room all by himself, and it would still be just as bright?!
Meanwhile, the Wardroom trio was having the most intense battle of their life.
“Come on, come on… Yes! An Army! Putting two down, Zan!”
“Joining two Corps. Got your Front, Greg!”
“Just a Stalemate.”
“Stalemate again, huh. What, Greg, taking a pass?”
“No. Take an Army.”
“You piece of- argh! How lucky you can be?!”
“Not luck, Ralf. We broke Xander’s Fort.”
Ralf slowly nodded.
“...Right. I forgot. Well, he’s got Front and Army now.”
“Take a Surrender?”
Xander and Roth looked at each other.
“Screw it, I Surrender! Curse you, Greg, you lucky lizard…”
“Me too.”
The maw widened in a horrifying parody on a smile. The treasurer moved a small pouch closer to himself. The pouch jingled.
Xander turned his head to the door.
“Oh, Joe!” He diverted his eyes away, his ears were twitching at the same time. “A-ah- Did you want… anything?”
Joseph nodded, enjoying this unfamiliar sight of the quartermaster.
“I just wanted to ask permission for using the Wardroom. I wanted to get some books from here.”
“Just this? Sure, I see nothing bad in that. The kid needs to learn, right, Zan?”
Ralf was staring daggers at the dragoncat, who could only sigh in response.
“I guess there is no harm in that… although, crew might ask, why some fresh outsider is getting special treatment, which is not a good look for us.”
He had a point.
“The Wardroom being used only by us is already a bad look, mate. But if any of them ask you about it, and it bothers you, just send them my way. I’ll explain everything, in the best way possible.”
Ralf’s smile was sending shivers down Joseph’s spine. It was far, very far removed from the goofy grin, that the armsmaster had as his normal expression. Three silver teeth only added to the effect, doing nothing to make it any less horrifying.
Xander threw his hands up.
“...There is no convincing you, I see. Very well, I give Joe the permission.”
Joe nodded to Ralf.
“Thank you very much.”
The cook just waved his hand, with his usual grin returning, to Joseph’s relief.
“Not a problem, kid. Say, wanna play a round?”
