《The False Summoned》Chapter 13

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When he eventually left the training hall and entered the lobby again, the sky outside the colored glass panels in the ceiling was completely dark. Most of the shops had closed as well, including Lela's cafeteria. While a few Summoned sat around the fountain at the center, the lobby was mostly devoid of people. Maybe it was later than he thought.

He had fallen into a similar trance-like state when he trained this time too, so he didn't have a good sense of the amount of time that had passed since he had spoken with Chris. All he knew was that his body was tired as a horse and that every step felt like walking through water. A good night's sleep was a welcome thought.

He left the lobby behind and sauntered through the corridor to the outside world. The courtyard was even less populated than the lobby, the fountain lit up by the dull light of the twin moons. A cold breeze blew over the area, but it didn't bother Lane much, working to clear his mind up instead.

When he crossed the courtyard and entered the dormitory, he was surprised by who was sitting in the chair next to the stairs.

Claire, the woman who had been healing people the day before in the infirmary, looked up from a book and smiled gently. "My, you're up late. It's well past midnight." She said, observing his surprised face for a moment. "Lane, was it?"

It took him a couple of seconds before he answered. "Ah, yes. That's right. And I...I got too caught up in my training and forgot about the time."

"While it is good that you focus on your training, you cannot forget to care about your body. Sleep is also important for you in order to grow, especially during this test."

"I'll keep that in mind." He said and nodded his head.

"Is there something you're curious about?" She asked when she saw Lane not moving.

"Actually, yes." He said and pointed to the empty wall next to her. "How come you're here? What happened with that other woman who was here yesterday? There was also a...sign."

Claire's smile froze for a moment. It was brief enough for him to doubt whether he'd imagined it or not. "I believe you're referring to Yvette," She said. "I asked her to cover for me yesterday because I was busy tending to all the injured invitees in the infirmary, but I am actually the one in charge of the dormitory." She shook her head slowly. "I was hoping she wouldn't cause any trouble. As for the sign...it's been removed. I apologize if she offended you somehow."

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Lane waved his hands. "I don't see how she could have. She barely noticed me. Although I did see her get rather annoyed at someone else."

Claire let out a sigh, her smile disappearing for a second. "Yes. I heard that she even lit someone's hair on fire. It's my fault for not thinking it through before asking her to perform such a task."

"...She set someone on fire?"

"Someone's hair, but yes. She usually doesn't take things that far, but she must have lost her patience." She said, now looking at him with a weak smile. "Try not to annoy her in the future."

He imagined himself without any hair. Perhaps it would work. His father was bald and it didn't look too bad.

But wouldn't the eyebrows also go?

He shuddered. "Trust me. I won't"

"Good." She nodded, then glanced at his halberd. "You've chosen that as your weapon? That's unusual."

Lane held up the halberd in front of him. "Yes. It's the weapon I'm most used to."

"If I recall, you were the one who didn't know much about this world before becoming an invitee? But you still know how to use such a weapon?"

He lowered the weapon, leaning in on the floorboards. "it's...complicated."

"It often is." She smirked. "Are you planning on taking part in any of the training sessions? You're lucky. Instructor Quentrell is one of the best spearmen alive. I'm sure you can learn a lot from him, despite not using a spear."

That name again.

Quentrell. That sword instructor from earlier today had mentioned a brigadier general Quentrell too. Lane had recognized the name but wondered if he'd misheard. After all, why would he be here? And why would they call him brigadier general?

But now Claire mentioned him too. And called him one of the best spearmen alive. Who else could it be?

Lane wanted to make sure if it was who he thought it was, but he'd already told her that he didn't know anything about this place. She might think it weird if he showed signs of recognition. He would just have to wait until the morning to ascertain the truth. But that didn't mean he couldn't pry at all.

"You know them?" He asked.

"I've only met him a few times. But he is rather famous." She said.

"So he's an instructor?"

"Normally not, I suppose." Claire bent the upper corner of the page in her book and closed it. "But he and the rest of us that Nikolas brought for this year's test are all temporary instructors. Nikolas' goal was to get as many new Summoned as possible this year. Of course, none of us were expecting there to be a limit this time..." She mumbled the last part as she pulled up the sleeve of her white robe and glanced down at the golden watch she had around her wrist.

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Lane looked at her with surprise. "You're also an instructor?"

She looked back up at him. "Yes. I'm the one responsible for teaching the new invitees about healing."

"Aren't you also in charge of the infirmary? With the dormitory and you also being an instructor, you must be busy."

She looked amused. "Perhaps if there were anyone for me to teach. As it is, my title as an instructor for this test is mostly for show. Not many people have been able to heal before they gain their class. You can count the number of people that managed it on one hand, actually."

Claire rose from her chair and put her book down on it. "It's late. As I am in charge of the dormitory, I imagine we'll get many opportunities to meet in the coming month so we can save any more chatting for another time. You should go and get some rest. Most people should be back by now, so I believe I will also do the same."

She started walking down one of the hallways that led to one of the smaller buildings that were attached to the dormitory. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night." She said.

"Ah, thanks. You too." Lane said as he watched her leave the small lobby. When the footsteps started fading away, he turned to the stairs and began climbing to the fourth floor where the room he had slept in last night was. Walking down the hallway with dozens of doors in it, he stopped close to the end of the hall and grabbed the door handle. Gently opening it, he peeked inside to see if there was still space in here or if he'd have to find a new room.

It was dark, but he could see the outlines of people sleeping on three of the beds. As luck would have it, his bed was still empty. With slow steps, he sneaked over to his bed and lay down after taking his boots off. The bed creaked as he moved, and he cringed when he imagined the others waking up from the sound. But all of them slept soundly, not looking disturbed at all. With a sigh, he took his shirt off and placed his boots under the bed. He placed the halberd on the bed beside him, its tip leaning over the top of the bed so that he wouldn't hurt himself in his sleep. A couple of the others in the room were doing the same with their weapons. Trust didn't go around here.

Lane relaxed and stared up into the darkness. He'd avoided thinking about it. Focused more on the training and getting a feel for the halberd. But now, lying on in a dark room on a surprisingly comfortable bed, his mind automatically went back to it.

There was something wrong with him.

That much had been clear since he woke up in the infirmary. One does not become a skilled warrior in a day, no matter if you have the interface or not. But earlier in the day, for just a moment, he could have sworn that he'd fought with the halberd since he was young. The memories were cloudy now, giving him no inkling of when and where, but they were still there at the back of his head. Something was affecting his mind, and it all had to do with whatever happened before he woke up in that cave.

Now that he thought about it, he'd been unnaturally calm about his situation ever since then. Before the first test, he'd been nervous and terrified that one of the Summoned would realize he was an outsider. He didn't belong and deep down, he'd probably known his plan foolish and reckless.

Not even once after waking up in that cave did he care about that. And he was never scared. Not even when he was a fingerbreadth away from dying at the hands of the hobgoblin did he actually feel fear.

Anger. Pain. Regret, sure — but not much fear.

What other changes were there that he hadn't noticed? Did he talk differently? He was more reserved with most of the Summoned, but that was normal.

He let out a tired sigh.

There wasn't anything more for him to glean about his condition. He didn't have any information. He closed his eyes. All he could do was continue onwards and hope. Hope that whatever was happening with him wasn't something bad.

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