With Sturm downed, Max dug his claws into the turf and began to buck his back feet, slashing blades of grass into the air as he howled triumphantly. “How’s that for slow?! Didn’t see that comin, did ya?!”
The swordsman gazed across the section of the field separating him from his opponent and spotted his saber pierced into the ground halfway between. While he was confident that he held the speed advantage to get to his weapon first, he knew that he’d most likely be unable to escape being bulldozed immediately afterward.
“Sturm!” cried Magnolia, quite disappointed with his performance thus far, “Don’t you dare hold back against him! He’s protected from head to toe, there is no excuse!”
Shakily returning to his feet, Sturm wiped a small trickle of blood from his bottom lip. Magnolia was right; there was no reason to pull his punches. If he didn’t give this training exercise his all, not only would he have no chance of victory, but Max’s new technique wouldn’t be properly tested. For all of the self-professed calciumancer’s confidence and growth, it would be for nothing if a potentially significant weakness was left unidentified.
Ever since I realized why Scharf was putting so much focus on unarmed combat, I’ve been looking for a way to use my abilities beyond brute force. I think I’ve always known that my aberrance would be the answer. Sturm thought to himself. It’s been a while since I’ve tried this… and I have no reason to think it will work. Still, I have no reason not to give it another attempt, either.
Sturm planted his feet firmly into the ground, curled his arm upward, and clenched his fist tightly. Starting from his boots, a swift current of air rushed through the grass, carving a spiral pattern into the green beneath him. The wind then swirled upward, canvassing the swordsman’s body in a turbulent veil of sheared grass and dead leaves.
Shocked by this development, Magnolia gasped, “Is that…?”
“It may be…” Gustavo replied, eyes narrowing as he observed the making of a small vortex.
Pauritsch remained silent, watching on with a knowing smile. Having reviewed the Third Hunter Team’s files prior to taking over as their instructor, she was aware of Sturm’s aberrance- the very same atmospheric influence that had made his father famous. For the young swordsman himself, however, dull pain building in his chest served as an unavoidable reminder of why he seldom relied on this power.
“That’s new…” said Max, locking his hooked toe claws into the ground as a precaution. “Ya been holding out on us, buddy?”
Careful to keep his opponent in his broad field of vision, Sturm glanced at his strained, softly trembling fist. “It’s not like that. This is hard on my body, and since I can only wield it with little effect, it’s usually not worth the risk.”
“So why now?” Max inquired suspiciously.
“Like you said… I need to improve too…”
Intrigued as he was by Sturm’s unexpected expression of his father’s storied capabilities, Max couldn’t help but feel his own time in the spotlight was being overshadowed. While his comrades had been impressed by his new technique mere moments ago, they were now fixated solely on Sturm.
Jealousy boiling, Max was eager to trade blows once more. “Alright, well, ya can throw some leaves and shit around. That’s cool and all, but it’s gonna take more than that to bring me down now. So if ya got nothing else…”
Before Max could finish his sentence, Sturm sprang forward and, aided by a burst of wind beneath his heels, reached his sword in a fraction of a second. Tumbling across the grass, he pulled the blade from the turf, leaving Max to choke on his words. Succumbing to aggravation, Max lunged at the boy, swiping a heavy claw toward him, but found it blocked by his adversary’s saber.
“Not bad…” growled Max, pressing downward in an attempt to overwhelm the swordsman with his weight, “The wind doesn’t just make you faster, but stronger, too…”
“Y-yeah…” Sturm grunted back, knees bent as he struggled to hold the massive armor shell at bay, “Not by much, though…”
Suddenly, the knight candidate felt the force on his blade increase immensely and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to match it a second longer.
With a stressed chuckle, Max said, “I was thinking the same thing…”
Sturm broke the clash and propelled himself backward just as Max’s titanic helmet crashed into the ground, launching a substantial amount of grass and soil into the air. The swordsman then braced himself for a likely follow-up charge, but nothing ever came. Instead, Sturm was left watching on in confusion as Max rasped his giant claws against the front of his mask.
What is he doing?
Growing increasingly frantic in his movements, the calciumancer banged the blunt base of his wrist spades against his helmet, repeatedly echoing a hollow thud. Finally, Sturm was able to identify the reason for his friend’s erratic movements; a coating of dark soil blocked the eye holes in the front of his crab-like visage.
Max was blind.
Sensing a rare opportunity, Sturm sheathed his saber and focused the swirling wind toward his fist, causing the vortex to warp upward and crawl across his forearm. Since the full energy of the miniature tornado was compressed into a tighter area, the wind speed around its manipulator’s wrist increased greatly. Weak as the storm was, Sturm was able to refine its current to roughly two hundred kilometers per hour.
Gustavo knew full well the devastating power of the attack his teammate was about to unleash. “That’s it… That’s the…”
“Destroyer-cyclone…” Magnolia marveled, eyes sparkling.
For all the collective elation of his allies, Sturm was left suppressing his own mounting dread at the sharp throb deep in his chest.
I don’t know how much longer my hearts can hold out, the young swordsman thought to himself. If I don’t act now, this could be a disaster.
A dozen or so meters away, Max managed to clear the obstruction that had blocked his vision. The sight he found now left him stunned.
“W-wait, what?!” he cried before hopping backward and anchoring himself to the ground once more. “Bastard, you said ya couldn’t do that!”
Sturm was unable to hear Max over the loud thrum of his hearts. The pain was ramping up and it was now or never. However, just when he was prepared to unleash the Destroyer-cyclone’s full fury, Mrs. Pauritsch voice peaked over the howling winds.
“That’s enough, boys! There seems to be an emergency!”
The vortex dispersed almost immediately, leaving Sturm to drop to his knee, and both competitors faced their instructor. There, beside Pauritsch, a young sentry handed off a letter and waited with urgency on his face.
Disheartened by the interruption, Max began to protest. “Hey, come on ma’am! That’s so unfair, I was about to block the cyclone!”
Focused on the letter, Pauritsch paid no mind to Max’s rantings. Her eyes scanned the notice’s contents, reflecting a level of concern building with each word. Sturm and Max picked up on this and soon made their way off the training field to regroup.
“What is that, Miss Pauritsch?” Magnolia inquired anxiously.
“There has… been an attempted bombing at the district’s SS field station. They have locked down the sector and are requesting two of the academy’s teams for assistance in establishing a wider perimeter,” Pauritsch explained, folding the letter and tucking it into her coat. “The Third Hunter Team was specifically requested by name.”
Still breathing heavily as he pushed through the receding pain in his chest, Sturm exchanged a look of surprise with Gustavo. “T-that must… must be Major General Dietrich’s request…”
“Indeed,” answered Pauritsch, placing a hand on the young swordsman’s shoulder. “Are you well enough to take action?”
“I’ll… I’ll be alright…” Sturm huffed, struggling to get control of his erratic breathing.
Magnolia stepped to his side and peered at him suspiciously. “Are you certain of that? You don’t look ‘alright’... It seems the Destroyer-cyclone might have been too much for you.”
“I’m fine, Magnolia,” Sturm groaned, agitated by the suggestion.
“So was it our guys?” asked Max, his massive, shield-like helmet tilting with curiosity. “I don’t really get what the assignment is. Are we gonna fight someone?”
“That is yet to be seen, I’m afraid,” replied Pauritsch. “It would seem that we will be assisting in providing security. Though, if the initial lockdown was enacted with sufficient haste, it is quite possible that the perpetrator or perpetrators may still trapped near the site of the attempted bombing.”
“Damn…” growled Max, “That’s gonna be a problem…”
“A problem?” Magnolia repeated back. “Were you not just complaining that you hadn’t an opportunity to properly display your new technique? This… ‘Xiphoshura Mode’ or what have you?”
While his expression was mostly hidden by his wide, ossified helmet, Max’s tone made his hesitation clear. “Xiphosura Mode… And yeah, that’s not the problem. My issue is-”
“That you used up all your calcium reserves already, right?” said Sturm, cutting him off.
Max immediately became defensive. “Look man, I didn’t realize we gonna get assigned to something like this today, alright? It was supposed to be a training day!”
“That hardly matters,” Magnolia chimed in, “You’re well aware that we are to maintain a constant state of readiness.”
“Says the least-ready person I know…” Max whispered into his helmet.
Raising her hand to the sky, Pauritsch beckoned for the team’s attention. “We must depart immediately. Ms. Wald and Mr. Alvarez, please make your way to the dispatch facility at once. Mr. Sturm and Mr. Allemann, you will accompany me to the commandant’s office where we might arrange for a more adequate form of transportation. The Xiphosura armor will be incompatible with our standard staff cars.”
“Just take it off, Max!” snapped Magnolia, seeing no legitimate reason for such an inconvenience.
“Didn’t ya hear Sturm?” replied Max, “If I lose it, I’ll barely have enough reserves for my usual weapons. I won’t even be able to use my reactive armor…”
Magnolia scoffed and lifted her nose to the clouds. “What a ridiculous ability. Ugly as a locust and twice as obnoxious.”
“And only a third as obnoxious as you…” Max mumbled, this time loud enough for the girl to hear.
“Is that so?” she sneered. “That shell of yours is making you overconfident. If you can hear my violin, I can defeat you effortlessly. Try not to forget that, hmm?”
“Okay, that’s enough…” said Sturm, pressing against his chest to search for any residual pain. “If you two can’t get along, you need to stop talking to each other. This is a real deployment, you need to get serious.”
“I do concur, dear,” Mrs. Pauritsch added with a smile. “Under circumstances such as these, one must always take care to maintain their composure. Now, let us depart, we cannot afford to loiter.”
ns 15.158.61.20da2
