He looked around the place and spotted a familiar face.
The girl from before… what was her name again?
Right. Lyra.
Lyra, from across the room, also noticed someone entering.., the guy who had cast the weakest fireball during the exam and the same person she had bumped into back at the apartment.
But something else caught her attention. The cloaked figure standing behind Rye.
A faint shiver ran down her spine.
What is this feeling…? It's cold… she thought, watching the figure more closely.
Rye pretended not to see her. The last thing he wanted was to get tangled in unnecessary conversations.
He scanned the area and spotted an unused corner with a training dummy.
"Skell, let's head over there," he said.
The skeleton nodded.
They walked to the empty space and stopped in front of the dummy.
"Alright, Skell. Teach me how to wield a sword."
Skell reached behind its back, took out the sword it carried, and handed it to Rye.
Rye gripped the weapon with both hands, extending his arms stiffly as he forced himself into what he assumed was an attack stance.
The skeleton tilted its head, then stepped forward and wordlessly corrected Rye's posture, adjusting his elbows, lowering his shoulders, guiding his center of gravity.
Meanwhile, Lyra watched from afar.
That guy… he's strong. I can feel it just by looking at him.
Her gaze drifted to the cloaked man.., Skell, carefully instructing Rye.
A voice suddenly spoke behind her. "Hey, Lyra. What are you staring at?"
Lyra didn't turn. "Nothing. Just watching someone."
The woman behind her smirked and let out a quiet chuckle. "Is that the guy who cast the weakest fireball?"
Lyra nodded.
"Don't tell me you have a crush on him," the woman teased.
Lyra shot her a sharp glare over her shoulder.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding…" the woman muttered, backing off slightly.
No… the feeling from that man is wrong. His aura… it's off. Am I the only one sensing this?
Lyra narrowed her eyes. Maybe I should test him.
She reached for an arrow, plucked it from the quiver hanging at her waist, and drew her bow. She aimed.., not at full power, and released.
Swoosh.
The arrow flew fast, though nowhere near the speed she had shown during the exam.
The next moment, her eyes widened.
The skeleton, without even looking her way, raised a hand and caught the arrow mid-flight.
Rye continued swinging the sword under Skell's guidance, unaware at first.
Then Skell slowly turned its head toward Lyra and snapped the arrow in half with a single hand.
Lyra froze, shaken. The oppressive aura she sensed earlier suddenly intensified.
I knew it… he's strong. But who in the world is that guy…?
Several people entered the training facility.
At first glance, none of them looked friendly.
Lyra noticed them immediately, as did a few of the others who were training nearby. Conversations faltered. Movements slowed.
There were eight of them in total. Men of different builds and heights, armed with swords and daggers, their posture loose yet predatory.
One of them noticed Rye training with Skell in the distance.
"Look, boss," the man muttered, nodding toward the corner. "That guy's hogging the dummy all to himself."
The one he addressed was a broad man with a bushy beard and a long scar running down his right eye. The bearded man followed the direction of his gaze, his expression darkening.
"I see him," he said calmly. "Let's go have a talk with em."
They started walking toward Rye and Skell.
Murmurs spread through the room.
"Aren't they that group that keeps causing trouble here?" someone whispered.
"I thought they got locked up for killing a registering climber on the first floor."
"Yeah… that's what I heard too."
Lyra watched them approach, her jaw tightening.
They're nothing but trouble.
All of them were First Trace, climbers who had already killed monsters on the first floor. Strong on their own, and far more dangerous together. Especially that bearded man.
Gram…
How were they even allowed inside? Shouldn't the receptionist have turned them away because of their reputation?
The group closed in.
Skell stepped forward instinctively, placing itself between them and Rye.
"Huh… what's going on?" Rye asked, peering past Skell at the unfamiliar faces.
"Oi," one of the men said with a sneer. "Move it. You're hogging this area."
"Yeah," another added. "We reserved this place before you even walked in."
Rye could tell they were lying, but arguing felt pointless. These were not people who listened.
Is there no security here? he thought, glancing around.
"Hey, punk. Move," one of the grunts barked as he shoved Skell aside.
Skell's hand clenched, its fingers trembling.
Rye noticed immediately. "Skell," he said quickly, forcing calm into his voice. "Let's move. I don't want trouble."
Skell hesitated, then gave a small nod.
"Hey, punk," another man snarled as he stepped past Skell and grabbed Rye by the collar. "Didn't you hear us?"
"Ugh!" Rye grunted as he was yanked forward.
The next moment, Skell's hand snapped out.
It grabbed the man's arm and squeezed.
There was a sickening crack.
"ARGH!!" The man screamed as his arm twisted unnaturally, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor.
Skell did not let go. The man wailed, clutching his broken limb with his free hand, tears streaming down his face.
The surrounding men froze, weapons half-drawn.
Even the bearded man's eyes widened in shock.
"Let go, you bastard!" the injured man screamed.
Gasps rippled through the training ground.
Skell finally loosened its grip. The man crumpled fully, sobbing and clutching his arm.
Rye stood frozen, heart pounding, horror and disbelief written across his face.
The bearded man recovered first. "Get him," he growled.
One of the men, wearing a bandana and wielding a sword, lunged at Skell, aiming straight for its torso.
Skell stepped in and redirected the strike with a clean parry, then drove a heavy right hook into the man's stomach.
The man gagged, retching violently as his sword slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
Skell caught the falling weapon.
It raised the blade.
"Skell, don't kill them!" Rye shouted, panic rising in his voice.
Skell halted instantly, the sword stopping just short.
Before Rye could breathe, another man dashed in, daggers flashing.
"[Quick Slash!]" he yelled.
He closed the distance in an instant, blades swinging in a blur.
Skell met the attack head-on.
Steel rang sharply as every strike was blocked with effortless precision.
The clash echoed through the hall.
"W-What…?"
The man barely had time to react.
Skell seized one of his arms and swung him with brutal force. Flesh tore with a sickening sound as the limb was ripped free.
"UWAK!!"
The man screamed as his body slammed into the ground, blood splattering across the floor.
The remaining members froze in horror.
What stood before them no longer looked like a man. It looked like a monster.
Skell stood still, gripping the torn arm in its skeletal hand. Blood dripped steadily from the severed limb, pooling beneath its feet.
The bearded man locked eyes with Skell.
Skell stared back.
"Stand back!" the bearded man roared as he reached behind his back and pulled out the massive axe resting there.
This guy is strong…
If I had known that this fellow's instructor would be this strong, I never would have picked this fight.
Who the hell is he…?
His grip tightened around the axe handle.
Guess I have no choice.
"[Slash Barrage]!" he shouted.
In the next instant, he closed the distance between himself and Skell.
Skell stepped back naturally.
The bearded man swung the axe again and again, each strike fast and heavy, the blade nearly half the size of his own body.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Skell deflected every strike.
Damn it!
I can't hit him!
Why isn't my attack working?!
The grunts watched in disbelief.
One of them glanced toward Rye and lowered his voice. "Hey. While the boss is busy, let's deal with that guy."
The others nodded.
Rye felt the same feeling from before as he sense the aura of the 5 men.
All of them rushed toward Rye at once.
Rye's blood ran cold as he saw them charging.
What the hell?! Why are they coming at me?!
Shit!
I can't cast anything!
I don't even know any attack spells! Fireball is useless too!
And why is nobody helping us?!
Rye turned and ran.
"He's a mage!" one of the men shouted. "He should be easy!"
Skell's head snapped toward Rye.
Its grip on the sword tightened.
With a sharp kick, Skell struck the bearded man square in the chest, sending him flying backward.
"Urk!" the man grunted as he crashed across the floor.
Skell vanished.
One of the men finally reached Rye, dagger raised high, and swung with full force.
Before the blade could land, Skell appeared behind Rye in a blur. The impact of its arrival knocked Rye forward as he stumbled and fell.
"W-What?!" the attacker gasped.
Skell swung once.
The man's arm was severed cleanly.
"AHHH!!"
He collapsed onto his back, screaming as blood poured from the wound.
The remaining five men skidded to a halt, fear etched across their faces.
Skell reversed its grip on the sword, holding it like a dagger. It lowered its stance slightly, blade angled forward.
Rye lay on the ground, staring in disbelief.
He's… this strong?
The bearded man staggered to his feet and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"RUN!"
Skell disappeared.
In a blink, it reappeared behind the five men.
Five clean flashes.
Five arms fell to the floor.
Their screams echoed through the training hall as they realized what they had lost.
Rye's breath caught in his throat.
What…?
I didn't even see that.
Was that a skill…?
The sword in Skell's hand cracked, then shattered into pieces, the blade breaking apart from the sheer force it had endured.
The bearded man stared at Skell, panic flooding his face.
He wiped them out that fast…
Who… what is this thing?!