Lazy Salvation A Blade That Hooks the Past

Ashen glanced down at the note in his hand.

Spear.

The word was written in bold at the top, followed by a list of reasons.

Raising an eyebrow, he wasn't particularly surprised by the recomndation, but was intrigued nonetheless.

'Hmm. A spear, huh? Not unexpected… but I was hoping for sothing with more flair, like a big sword or a heavy axe.'

His eyes skimd further down, and his lips curled into a smirk. He had undoubtedly co across sothing that stroked his ego.

Well, it wasn't entirely unwarranted. According to the coach, aside from his abysmal mana capacity, Ashen was a frightening genius in almost everything else.

The coach's notes stated that, from his observations, Ashen could wield nearly any weapon and dominate with it, provided he put in enough effort.

The spear, however, seed to suit him best based on his natural posture and movents. Its high adaptability would complent his habits well.

Ashen was mulling over the details when a familiar voice pulled him back to reality.

"Ashen! You haven't picked your weapon yet?"

Seraphine's usual chirpy tone was accompanied by her signature bright smile.

"No, I've already chosen. I was just about to grab it," he replied. "What about you?"

His gaze dropped to the long whip awkwardly hanging from her right hand.

'Now that is surprising…'

"...Never mind, I can see your choice," he said, pausing for a beat. "Let's just say that's… unique."

Seraphine let out a frustrated sigh as she twirled the whip in her grip.

"Tell about it. The coach basically wrote that I'm too clumsy to handle any weapon, but sohow, I have talent with the whip. Can you believe that?"

"Ashen smirked. 'Huh… never thought I'd say this, but it kinda works for you. Is that the famous gap moe?'"

Wiggling his finger at her, he added with a teasing grin, "As long as you practice far away from , we won't have any problems."

"I really don't wanna end up on the receiving end of that thing. That would go straight into my cringe archives."

Seraphine pouted, her plump lips pushing out slightly before she smirked and rested a hand on her hip. She playfully swayed the whip in her hand.

"Hmph! I'm not that clumsy, alright?" Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she leaned in slightly. "You better be careful, though. If you get too naughty… I might just have to punish you~"

Ashen froze for a split second.

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For soone as naturally goofy as Seraphine, that line was way more seductive than it had any right to be.

Snapping out of it, he threw her a grin of his own before jogging toward the weapons rack.

"Oh no! Mistress Sera is about to punish this lowly servant! I better run away~" he called out in an exaggeratedly dramatic voice.

Seraphine scoffed and made a shooing motion, adopting a pompous expression. Then, in an over-the-top aristocratic tone, probably mimicking a young master from one of those Chinese cultivation novels, she huffed,

"Hmph! You betta! Don't let catch you, you misbehaving servant!"

Ashen shook his head with an amused smirk as he reached the spear section, only to find himself surrounded by an overwhelming assortnt of weapons.

Rows upon rows of spears stood before him, their polished blades glinting under the lights and shafts tall like ancient sentinels. It was as if each one was silently calling to him, demanding his attention.

For a mont, he felt like a kid in a candy store, except here, choosing wrong ca with far deadlier consequences.

His heart quickened as he paced among them, eyes darting from one spear to the next.

To his left, a Roman pilum hung neatly in its slot. Its slender iron shank and pyramidal tip scread brutality, no doubt designed to pierce shields and armor with ruthless efficiency.

'Looks effective… but it's more of a throwing weapon than a lee one.'

The idea of tossing his weapon and being left defenseless killed any further consideration.

Nearby, another spear caught his eye… a Zulu iklwa with a short, broad blade perfect for close-quarters combat.

'I rember this one…'

The na resurfaced from an old Eastern war ga he played as a kid. But while it had its charm, it lacked the adaptability he was looking for. If he wanted to fight at that range, he might as well pick a sword.

Shaking his head, he moved on.

His gaze landed next on a European lance. It was tall, heavy, and clearly designed for mounted combat.

'Yeah… no. Unless they plan on handing a horse, that thing's useless to .'

The sheer variety was starting to feel paralyzing. Each spear seed to demand a different skill, and sotis even a different approach.

Running a hand through his hair, he muttered under his breath, "How the hell am I supposed to choose?"

He was a novice. He knew that. Every weapon here had centuries of combat history behind it, and he was just so guy trying not to die in the next six months.

Then, sothing in the corner caught his eye.

Tucked away, almost as if it had been waiting for him, was a Japanese yari.

It wasn't just any yari.

His breath hitched slightly as he stepped closer, recognizing the distinct jumonji-yari.

Its sleek, straight blade glead with quiet confidence, flanked by crescent-shaped crossbars that gave it an almost regal appearance.

'Alice…'

A soft smile tugged at his lips.

He rembered her, in their childhood, playing only one character in that hack-and-slash ga they used to grind together. That character wielded a spear almost identical to the one in front of him.

Without hesitation, he reached for it.

The shaft felt solid yet balanced in his hands.

He turned the weapon over, admiring its design. Unlike other spears, this one wasn't just for thrusting… it could slash, hook, disarm, and keep opponents at bay.

A grin spread across his face.

It was like the Swiss Army knife of spears. Versatile, deadly, and suited for soone who didn't want to be tied down to just one style.

Perfect.

Lifting the yari onto his shoulder, he gave it a light twirl, testing its weight. It felt right. The other spears faded into the background.

He didn't know much about fighting.

But he knew one thing now…this spear was his.

'I might as well pick sothing that reminds of our happy tis together…'

As he walked toward the coach, the jumonji-yari resting comfortably on his shoulder, a long-buried flicker of sothing stirred within him.

Determination… and the will to survive no matter what.

He didn't know how many dangers awaited him. But if he truly put his mind to it…

Nothing would stop him.

As Ashen approached the coach, the older man gave a brief glance at the spear before nodding lightly.

"A good choice. Here."

With a flick of his hand, another bracelet materialized, nearly identical to the one Ashen already wore.

"This contains basic techniques to help you master that spear. Train well. I'll be around if you need advice."

Ashen accepted the bracelet along with a bag filled with protective gear. "Thanks, Coach. It's always reassuring to have you nearby."

The coach smirked. "Don't get used to it. I won't baby you guys forever."

With a final nod, Ashen stepped away, heading toward an empty corner of the training field.