Ethan turned in his seat toward Harry, resting his elbow on the desk.
"Did you like the lecture?" Ethan asked, testing the waters.
Harry closed his notebook and replied, "Yeah, but it felt a little short. I expected him to go into more detail about forms or advanced applications."
Ethan nodded understandingly, a knowing look in his eyes. "Yes, but I think it was perfect—short and straight to the point. Honestly, we don't need long, drawn-out explanations about weapons anyway. A weapon's true capabilities can only be shown on the battlefield, not on a blackboard." He leaned slightly closer, dropping his voice so the passing students wouldn't overhear. "Besides, let me tell you a little secret. Look at them. Some of these students are already planning to rush up and ask the professor for immediate guidance the moment he opens the floor. But they don't realize they're actually being filtered. The school uses this first day to see who is too eager, who acts on pure impulse without thinking things through."
Harry frowned slightly, the hidden politics of the academy catching him off guard. "What do you mean by filtered?"
"It's not easy to change your weapon once you commit," Ethan explained seriously, his demeanor shifting to that of someone well-versed in the academy's strict culture. "A few rare exceptions manage to switch later on, but most get permanently stuck with their initial choice since the entire training curriculum is heavily designed around it. The instructors want to see who takes the time to reflect, and who just jumps at the first shiny thing they see."
Harry nodded, fully understanding the hidden weight of the situation. It was a test of patience as much as it was a test of compatibility.
"So, Ethan," Harry asked, turning the question back on his friend. "Are you going to stick with daggers?"
Ethan nodded confidently, not a single shred of doubt in his expression. "Yeah. My family line has always favored agility, and daggers just fit my rhythm. But I won't ask the professor for tips today. I'll let the administration know my choice tomorrow, after I've formally slept on it. It looks better on the record." He then looked at Harry, his curiosity piqued. "What about you? Still going for the gauntlets?"
Harry went quiet for a moment, his mind flashing back to his conversations with Professor Kael about energy absorption and the complex artificial points within weapons. He thought about the raw, visceral feeling of fighting hand-to-hand.
Then, a small grin tugged at his lips. "Yeah, I'll stick with gauntlets. They're just... cool. And honestly, when everything else fails, aren't our hands the most reliable partners we have on a battlefield? Swords can break, bows can run out of arrows, but your fists are always there."
Ethan smiled broadly, clearly impressed by the philosophy. "Well said, Harry. You really know what you're talking about. Just stick to the plan—don't tell the teacher yet. Wait until tomorrow."
After their discussion, the hunger finally caught up to them, and they headed out to the bustling cafeteria. The hall was filled with the loud chatter of students debating the merits of swords versus staves. They managed to grab two chicken sandwiches and cartons of fruit juice, eating quickly amid the noise. Once they finished, they threw away their trash and made it back to the training hall just in time for the second lecture.
The atmosphere in the room had shifted. Professor Darrel Finn arrived precisely on time, stepping up to the podium. He sat down, crossed his massive forearms, and looked out at the assembly of students with an incredibly serious, unreadable expression.
"I will now take questions and clear up any doubts you might have," the professor announced, his deep voice easily cutting through the room. "Any student who needs immediate guidance on their path, I will help."
Almost instantly, the bait was taken. Around thirty-five eager students raised their hands high into the air, practically leaning out of their seats to catch his attention.
Seeing this massive wave of responses, a slight, knowing grin appeared on the professor's bearded face—a look that validated everything Ethan had warned Harry about. Professor Finn stood up, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the front row.
"Very well. Students who have already chosen the same weapon will form groups in the corners of the hall. I will come to each group one by one to evaluate your resolve," he commanded.
Then, he turned his sharp eyes toward the remaining minority of students who had kept their hands down, including Harry and Ethan. His grin softened into a look of quiet approval.
"As for the rest of you who are still waiting, this lecture will focus on the absolute importance of weapon selection, the psychological weight of your choice, and the danger of rushing into a contract with steel. I hope you are ready to listen carefully."