Chapter 42 | The Spear, The Sword, The Shield, and Armor

Leon's training group lounged in the auditorium after lunch, waiting for the instructors to return. The ambient buzz of conversations filled the space as recruits settled into their seats.

"Those burgers were actually decent today," Nyra said, dropping into the seat beside Leon. She stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles.

Leon nodded. 

"The breakfast was better too. I think there might be a new cook in the mess."

"You guys noticed that too?"

Leon turned to see a bulky, broad-shouldered recruit with black hair swiveling in his seat to face them. The guy had a barrel chest that strained against his uniform and hands that looked like they could crush stone.

"Hard not to notice," Leon replied, trying to place the recruit's name. 

Starts with M... Mark? Matthew?

The recruit's face brightened. 

"Right? I wonder what they'll do with the steaks tonight."

"Oh, you're making me hungry again just thinking about it," Nyra groaned, patting her stomach.

Leon shot her a confused look. 

"You literally just ate."

"Doesn't mean you can't get hungry again," the recruit defended Nyra with a solemn nod, as if imparting ancient wisdom.

"I knew I would like you, Mason," Nyra said with a grin.

Mason! Thank god Nyra remembered.

"Yeah, Mason. You're all right," Leon added, trying to sound casual.

The conversation stopped as the doors slid open. The recruits snapped to attention as Instructor Zell strode in, flanked by his assistants who positioned themselves along the walls.

"At ease," Instructor Zell said, waiting for everyone to settle before continuing. "Now that everyone has had their fill, we'll continue our previous lesson plan."

A hologram materialized in the center of the room, displaying three weapons: a spear, a sword, and a tower shield. 

"The three main weapons for the Fulgari are the spear, sword, and tower shield. As I mentioned earlier, they're entirely composed of MRMs with a small portion of a core—" Instructor Zell's explanation was cut short as he spotted a recruit nodding off.

"Recruit Neil! Stand at the back of the class!" he barked.

The drowsy recruit startled awake, face flushing as he scrambled to the back amid suppressed snickers.

Instructor Zell's jaw tightened. 

"Since the topic of weapons doesn't seem to be interesting, and we need to make up time, you've been given access to the materials. Review them at your leisure. Moving on to armor."

The hologram shifted, weapons dissolving into a detailed display of combat armor, the same design Leon had first seen at the space dock. Text appeared beneath the display:

Class I Armor
Designation: Standard Suit
Users: Nullari & Ordari Personnel
Purpose: Protective Only
Enhancement: None
Helmet Unit:
- Integrated Sensory Suite
- CRI-Link Compatible (Ordari Only)

Class II Armor
Designation: Fulgari Integration Suit
Users: Fulgari Personnel Only
Composition: Adaptive Nanite Mesh + Core
Enhancement: Full Sync
Performance Boost: Up to +10% across key combat metrics
Features:
- Neural Interface
- Auto-Repairing Nanite Layer
- Full CRI-Link Capability

"There are two armor classes," the instructor explained, gesturing to each display. "Both are completely sealed systems. Class I is the standard, designed to provide basic protection and life support. Limited oxygen supply, filtration, cooling, and heating."

Leon watched the holographic armor rotate, noting the subtle differences between the classes.

"Class II is exclusive to Fulgaris," Instructor Zell continued. "It harnesses mana integration for enhanced capabilities: superior life support, combat enhancements, basic field medical assistance, and an auto-repair system that functions as long as there are sufficient nanites in the storage compartments."

The hologram highlighted the core embedded in the Class II armor. Leon noticed how it connected to a network of fine channels throughout the suit.

"The core requires the user's mana to power its advanced features," Zell explained. "During combat, you'll need to adjust power outputs, prioritize sub-systems, and be mindful of your own mana reservoir. Any questions?"

The instructor's gaze swept the room, pausing on the previously drowsy recruit. 

"Recruit Neil, good to have your attention. What's your question?"

Neil straightened. 

"Sir, what happens if you run out of mana or don't inject mana into it?"

"The mana core can store a limited reserve. Typically enough for a day's worth of basic functions in non-combat situations," Zell answered. "If it's completely depleted, the armor functions no differently than Class I, just with added weight."

For the next hour, Instructor Zell detailed specifications, maintenance protocols, and regulations governing armor usage. Leon caught Nyra fighting drowsiness several times, and Mason eventually succumbed, earning himself a spot standing at the back.

"That's it for today's lesson. When you return to your quarters, you'll find modified Class I armor in your closets. This will be your uniform of the day moving forward unless instructed otherwise. Dismissed."

The recruits remained standing as the instructors filed out per usual, then broke into chatter as they headed for the mess hall.

As Leon and Nyra collected their dinner trays. Scanning the room for an empty table, Leon spotted Mason sitting alone, hunched over his meal.

"Let's sit with Mason," Nyra suggested, already angling in his direction.

"Fine with me," Leon agreed, following her lead.

Mason sat with his back to them, shoulders slumped as he cut his food.

"Mind if we join you?" Leon asked.

Mason glanced up, confusion flashing across his face as he looked around. "Me?"

"You're the only one at this table, so of course you," Nyra said, dropping into a seat without waiting for permission. She immediately attacked her steak with single-minded focus.

Leon shrugged apologetically and sat down as well.

"So why are you sitting alone?" Nyra asked bluntly between bites.

Leon shot her a pointed look.

Really?

"What?" she asked, noticing his stare.

"Nothing," he replied, though his expression said otherwise. They both turned expectantly to Mason.

"Uhh..." Mason set down his fork and stared at his plate. After an uncomfortable pause, he admitted, "I didn't complete the obstacle course. Fell off the balance beam. The people I was friends with said they weren't allowed to hang out with failures."

"You can hang with us. We're labeled failures too," Nyra declared, cramming another oversized piece of steak into her mouth.

Leon winced internally. 

For someone who likes to keep an eye on the room, you cause a lot of trouble.

"Excuse Nyra, she can sometimes be a bit—oof!" Leon's explanation was cut short by Nyra's sharp elbow to his ribs.

Mason frowned, still avoiding eye contact. 

"But you two finished the course. Wouldn't it look bad if you're hanging out with me?"

"Dohn' wuhrry 'bou' the shmuh shtuff—" Nyra attempted through her mouthful of food.

Mason looked up, blinking in confusion. He glanced at Leon, who had his palm pressed against his forehead.

"I think what she's trying to say is, don't worry about it," Leon translated. "And I agree. The course doesn't show everything. Think about it. If the Army thought you were a failure, would they continue training you?"

"That's true…" Mason allowed, a hint of hope entering his voice.

"That's the spirit, right Nyra?" Leon turned to his friend, only to find her demeanor had completely shifted. Her casual posture had vanished, replaced by the calculating expression she wore when assessing threats. Her eyes had narrowed, focusing on something behind him.

Following her gaze, Leon spotted two recruits approaching their table, smirking and nudging each other.

"Hahahaha! See? I told you failures flock together," one recruit announced loudly enough for surrounding tables to hear.

His companion snickered. 

"Hmm, you're right. I didn't think you'd be hanging out with these other rejects, Mason."

Leon's fist clenched. He had gotten accustomed to the insults he received and Nyra didn’t care much either and if she did, she would retaliate before he could even get upset. 

For some reason, this interaction reminded him of the vendor and how powerless he felt then.

He stared at Mason's defeated expression and felt something snap. He couldn’t understand the feeling. 

Was he mad because of others mistreating Mason, a person he just met? Was it because it reminded him of the vendor? Was it because he was powerless before? Was it because he is slowly coming into terms Fulgaris bleed like him? 

The urge to stand up and punch their face in, was intensifying. He could almost feel his nanites responding to the surge of emotion, ready to channel mana into his muscles.

Then a chilling realization hit him. 

Wait. Am I becoming just like the Fulgaris?

The anger receded, replaced by confusion and a flutter of fear. He spent his life hating how the Fulgaris abused their power, yet here he was, ready to do the same the moment he had the means.

He glanced at Nyra, expecting to find her attention on the retreating recruits, who were still laughing as they walked away. Instead, he found her watching him with a keen, evaluative gaze. As if she were seeing something in him that he hadn't yet recognized in himself.

The look unsettled him more than the bullies had. What had she seen in his face during those few seconds? And why did it feel like she was now recalculating something about him in that mind of hers?

Mason pushed his half-eaten meal away. 

"Maybe this was a mistake. I should go."

"No," Leon said, louder than he meant to. "They're just stupid. You don’t deserve to be treated like that."

"Leon's right," Nyra added, her expression softening. "Besides, we need foodies need to stick together."

Mason's mouth twitched, not quite a smile but close. 

"You really don't care what they think?"

"About them?" Nyra jerked her thumb toward the retreating recruits. "Let me tell you something; in my experience, the people who are quickest to label others as failures are usually terrified of failing themselves."

Leon studied Nyra, surprised by her insight. Sometimes he forgets how perceptive she could be.

"So," Nyra continued, refocusing on her food, "is this steak better than yesterday's or what?"