Chapter 6

"All the weapons you want to choose are here. Now, stand in front of the desired weapon you want to wield. Be reminded that the weapon you'll be choosing will not be changed. You can change your weapon again after 10 months." I was amazed as I stared at the weapons neatly arranged on a long table in front of us. There are weapons in every category. Melee, ranged, explosive, and specialized weapons. You name it, they've got it. "Just to be sure, this weapon that we'll be giving you is for training purposes only, but don't look down on them too much since one weapon costs about 5 million glacium." [1] The students exchanged surprised glances. Are training weapons worth that much? It seemed unbelievable. But they knew better than to question their instructor's words. One by one, students started to step forward to choose their own. Out of all the 200 students, 160 picked the most common weapon, which is the sword, spear, and bow, otherwise known as 'The Blessed Tridentes'.[2] I watched as Cypher and Edge stood in front of the sword and, spear respec, while Ezekiel Owen chose the katana, Meredith Cortez chose the dres, and Whitney Owen chose the whip. "Remillia Lockhart? Have you chosen your weapon?" The instructor asked. Noticing that I was the only one left, I just stared at the table full of weapons. To others, it may seem like I have no prospect to the instructor, but deep inside me, I was panicking. I can't think straight, I can't even answer him. I don't know how to use these weapons. I don't know what kind of weapon Remillia uses or if she's good at hand-to-hand combat. My gaze flickering over the assortment of blades, axes, and melees, I spotted something else. In my world, this is the closest thing I know as a weapon. Even though I don't know how to use it, I can just practice it later. However, in this world, this weapon is considered the weakest in the history of weapons. None of the Heroes use this, not even my classmates glanced at it. "Ms. Lockhart." The instructor's voice cut through the silence, urging her to make her choice now. Some of my classmates, including the two MCs, turned to watch me. In the end, my body automatically began to move towards the weaponry table as my instinct guided my hand, drawing me towards the one weapon I only knew. I finally reached out and grasped the dagger; it felt light as a feather and comforting in her grip. It was a choice born not of skill or strategy, but of necessity and survival.