CLEAVER OF SIN

As Asher, Finch, and William finally selected their mission, the facilitator tapped the surface of his table. A small circular rune flickered into existence, glowing faintly before releasing a pulse of light. In an instant, a scroll materialized above it and landed softly upon the desk. Picking it up, the facilitator examined the seal briefly before extending it toward Asher, who seemed to him the natural leader of the trio.

Just as Asher reached forward to take the mission scroll permit, the facilitator suddenly drew his hand back, causing Asher's fingers to grasp nothing but air.

'What is he playing at?' Asher thought, his brow arching slightly as he regarded the man with mild curiosity.

"Forgive my behavior," the facilitator began in a calm, measured tone, "but it is the duty of every facilitator to explain the rules and structure of a mission to any student embarking on one for the first time."

"I've already explained everything to the both of them. There's no need," Asher replied, his voice composed and steady.

"But I wasn't present to confirm what you told them, was I?" the facilitator countered politely. "So I'm sorry, Wargrave, but I'll have to go through the full explanation again, from the beginning, for your entire team."

Asher exhaled quietly, resigning himself to the situation. It was, after all, an academic rule, and he had no choice but to comply. The facilitator then began his detailed explanation, covering the entire process meticulously to ensure that no important information was omitted, twisted, or misunderstood, just in case Asher had skipped or simplified certain details.

After a few minutes, the explanation concluded. The facilitator then extended the mission scroll permit once more, which Asher accepted with an expressionless face.

"Now that you have your mission slip," the facilitator continued, "I'll explain a few additional things. On the mission scroll, you'll find the duration of your assignment clearly written. Furthermore, since this is your first official mission, the Star Academy's Logistics and Missions Operations Hall will provide you with several essential items to aid you in the field, especially as this marks your first venture outside the Separate Dimension."

Having said that, he rose smoothly from his seat and walked toward the back of the hall. Without a word, Asher, Finch, and William followed him quietly. They soon entered a long hallway that seemed to stretch out behind the facilitators' area, where various instructors continued attending to other students.

Eventually, the man stopped before a reinforced door. With a light push, the door swung open, revealing what appeared to be a fully equipped armory. The air within was dense with the scent of oiled metal, polished silver, and burnished wood. Gleaming weapons lined the walls, and neatly arranged sets of armor rested upon marble pedestals and wooden racks.

"This," the facilitator announced, his tone flat and brisk as though he was about to explain something important, "is the basic mission armory. Here, weapons, armor, and various other items are kept and maintained. According to Academy protocol, the Logistics and Missions Operations Hall will issue each of you one weapon, a pair of vambraces, greaves, and a breastplate and more. Naturally, you're free to select anything you feel comfortable with, but only one of each."

Asher's sharp eyes roamed across the armory's expanse, drinking in the sight of countless armaments. He had never personally worn any sort of armor before. Though he had seen knights and guards clad in full plate, he had never felt the urge or need to don one himself.

Without hesitation, the trio stepped forward. Asher examined each piece closely, his movements calm and deliberate. 'They're all of the same quality,' he observed silently while moving between the rows of equipment.

Finally, he selected a well-balanced breastplate and fitted it over his torso. The cold metal pressed firmly but comfortably against him. He moved a few times, his form blurring with speed as he tested his range of motion. Satisfied that it neither restricted nor hindered him, he nodded lightly.

Next, he picked up a pair of vambraces, fastening them snugly around his forearms. They rested perfectly from his elbows down to his wrists. His eyes then shifted to a pair of greaves, which he secured onto his lower legs, each fitting neatly from knee to ankle. Finally, he slipped on a pair of black gloves that molded perfectly to his hands and fingers, completing his ensemble.

His gaze then drifted toward a sleek rapier resting against one of the weapon racks. Walking toward it, he lifted the weapon with a steady hand. The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a soft silver light shimmered beside him, Virelass, his personal soul bound rapier, materialized with a gentle hum.

"Relax," Asher said with a faint smirk, "I'm not going to cheat on you by using another rapier."

With a graceful motion, he drew the rapier from its scabbard. As though understanding his words, Virelass shimmered once more and merged into the scabbard, releasing a pleasant hum of satisfaction. Smiling faintly, Asher fastened the weapon belt around his waist, which also held three slender daggers.

To test his gear, he suddenly burst into motion, moving in a blur across the armory floor. His movements were fluid and sharp, as though he were weightless despite the armor. He even leaped lightly into the air, testing his balance before landing softly. Everything felt perfect.

When he was done, Asher turned his attention toward Finch and William, who were nearly finished with their selections. Like him, neither of them had chosen full armor sets, preferring lighter protection for greater mobility. Each wore a breastplate, vambraces, greaves, and gloves, simple, practical, and efficient.

William's ever-present claymore was strapped across his back, gleaming faintly in the armory's light, while Finch's weapon remained unseen, concealed somewhere on his person as usual.

None of them had chosen weapons from the racks; their personal armaments far surpassed the Academy's standard-issue equipment in quality and craftsmanship.

"You really do look good in anything," William remarked with a teasing whistle as he examined Asher.

"Genetics," Asher replied dryly, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. At that moment, he looked every bit the dashing hero summoned from another world, an unintentional portrait of poise and quiet strength.

"You done?" the facilitator asked, glancing at them with a slightly raised brow.

"We are," the trio responded in unison.

With that, they began removing the equipment they had just tested and stored it neatly within their space rings. Since they wouldn't be departing immediately, there was no need to wear the armor yet.

"Be aware," the facilitator warned, "that this is a one-time provision. If any part of your equipment becomes damaged or broken during your mission, you'll have to pay academy points either to have it repaired or to acquire new ones. The Academy doesn't offer replacements for free."

Asher, Finch, and William nodded in understanding. None of them were surprised, after all, the Star Academy was not a charitable institution. The very fact that they were being given such equipment for free, even once, was already a small miracle in itself.