[5/27 (Tuesday) - Morning]
[Beacon Academy - Classroom]
"While Nevermores are classified in the Hunting Records as XX-class in terms of difficulty," Professor Port exclaimed as he used his long pointer stick on the projection. "They are still a danger to Hunters and Huntresses alike, with their one advantage—Flight!"
Scanning the classroom for a moment, watching his students focus on everything but his lecture, but he paid no mind. They were children after all, being rebels at heart! Besides, most will listen to his lecture when they enter their second year after realizing that knowledge means everything in their field.
Though, he does need to scare them a bit once in a while, so he decided to do so by selecting one of the more attentive students in his lecture to alert the rest.
"Ah! Mr. Greyson! Thank you for volunteering!"
"?!"
His head popped up from his notes to address Professor Port.
"Nevermores, just like real birds, need to stay balanced and steady midair to avoid losing control even while attacking."
"Which part of a Nevermore's body is primarily responsible for stabilizing it during flight?"
"A. Wings"
"B. Beak"
"C. Tail"
Clerval took a second to ponder before answering.
"C. Tail."
The professor stroked his beard.
"Correct! The tail is crucial for stability! Without it, even a creature as powerful as a Nevermore would tumble out of the sky. But make no mistake—the wings are no less important; they remain both the primary method of offense and the key to maneuverability!"
Clerval himself was surprised at how easy it was to answer the question. It made him realize that all that studying had increased his Knowledge slightly.
"Amazing work, as always. Oh! That reminds me," Professor Port said, striding toward the cage in the hall and tapping it lightly with his pointer, "I am in need of your services once more. Expect my message within the day—assuming work doesn't bury me alive..."
Giving the professor a nod, he sat back down as murmurs erupted amongst the class, exchanging curious glances and whispers.
He could feel that his relationship with Professor Port would create rumors from what he eavesdropped on. His Reputation is definitely rising after the rumor hits the campus. For the better or worse, however, that is anyone's guess.
Sighing at the headache that was growing at the eventual rise in attention, he watched as Yang was unleashed upon the panicking baby Nevermore they had captured the day before.
Poor thing.
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[5/27 (Tuesday) - After Classes]
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While watching a random television show on the common area's TV display, his Scroll rang with a notification. Picking it up from the coffee table, the contents of the message were interesting, to say the least.
[Conversation with: MURAMASE GIN (Online)]
[Muramase: Kid, I need your help.]
[Muramase: Come to the Forge.]
[Clerval: ?]
[MURAMASE GIN has gone offline.]
Looking at the short message, he stared at the abrupt request before shrugging, standing from his seat.
It took a few minutes to walk from his dorm to the main campus area and another few to reach the Forge.
"Yo! Come over here and help me with these crates." The resident blacksmith, Muramase, hauled him over to a stack of crates filled with various types of weapons.
Standing slightly taller than him, unlike the other staff members of Beacon Academy, Muramase dressed lightly with a simple black tee and cargo pants, soot and grim covering everywhere. The surprising thing was how old he looked—the man looked barely over twenty.
Grabbing a few crates stacked together, he followed behind him as Muramase led him from the Forge to a nearby room. Fiddling with the lock, the door eventually opened, revealing a whole lot of steel weaponry packed in such a small storage room.
"Just place it wherever; I'll sort it out... Eventually." Muttering the last part of his sentence, a huff escaped his mouth as he placed his stack of crates to the side.
"What are these for?" Clerval asked, gently placing his stack next to the rest.
Muramase let out a tired sigh.
"Failures." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Was trying to make those mecha-shift weapons that you kids love. I keep telling Ozpin that I can't make anything that shifts out of its original form, but he still keeps insisting on making me the head blacksmith. Damn old man."
His hand waved. "Give me anything that doesn't shift and you'll get a masterpiece out of me. But if you ask me to add a gun to a sword—shit—you'd have a higher chance to witness a miracle."
Hearing this, Clerval suddenly recalled Ruby's words from last week.
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"Your weapon is getting dull," Ruby noticed as she examines his sword after handing it over.
Although he often maintains his sword, at the insistence of his team leader, it wasn't his fault that it keeps losing its edge that quickly. The sword was mass-produced, after all.
She gasps when the sword's secret is exposed.
"A mass-produced blade in my team? That's why it feels so weird! Guh." She stared at the blade with distain. "I know that you're—well—financially indisclosed—?"
"Indisposed," Weiss corrected.
"—Indisposed! Thanks, bestie!" Ruby waved frantically at Weiss, who was taking a break from a distance away. "—But the difference between a low- and high-quality weapon is night and day; it may save your life one day!"
The young leader patted the hidden Crescent Rose behind her cape. "I made Crescent Rose and Yang's Ember Cecilia, so I'm very biased. But look at Weiss's and Blake's weapons; they're made with a lot of care! Have you seen their edges dull even after killing a bunch of Grimm?"
To demonstrate, she tries to stab his sword into a trunk, both silently watching as the tip of the blade bounces off, failing to puncture the tree. In comparison, at the side, Blake's sheath, out of all things, managed to slice a Beowolf's arm off cleanly as she maneuvered in the air gracefully.
"Duly noted."
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"Do you take any commissions?" Interested, Clerval asked while inspecting a glaive. The quality and make were top-tier; even he could see it.
"Hm? Commissions? The blacksmith furrows his eyes in thought for a moment. "You're using a normal broadsword, right? 28 inches long with the weight mainly on the crossguard."
"Have you seen it?" Surprised at how accurate his measurement of his sword was, he asked with curiosity. Muramase chuckled, patting his chest. "Only through a screen, but I've been making swords my whole life; I can gauge a swordsman's preferred weapon type with sight alone."
Sorting through a row of crates that were placed haphazardly, he grabs onto the hilt of an unfinished sword. "Here." Tossing it over, he dusts his palms as Clerval caught it.
"!!" This sword... It felt amazing in his hand! He gave it a swing. The balance is perfect.
"Not bad for an unfinished product, right? My skills are top-notch in Vale, hell, in the whole world." Smirking, he placed his hands on his hips. "Alright then, here's the deal. I won't pay you for your deliveries anymore—don't think you'll escape being my courier, kid. Instead, I'll forge blades for you. My prices are pricy, though; I only make the best of the best."
Glancing at his extended hand and back to the sword in his hand, it was a no-brainer. Settling the unfinished blade down, he reached over and shook Muramase's arm.
"Tell you what—since it's your first time, I'll make the first one free." Muramase rolled up his sleeves, a sharp, excited grin cutting through the soot on his face. "Give me a day, and I'll make you something leagues above that scrap you're carrying. When it's ready, I'll send you a hauler."
Before Clerval could respond, Muramase had already turned away, mentally elsewhere with his eyes distant—ideas taking shape in his mind.
With a dismissive wave, he shooed him out of the Forge.
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[5/27 (Tuesday) - Evening]
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Before he turned in for the night, his teeth brushing was interrupted by the ping of a message.
[Conversation with: MURAMASE GIN (Online)]
[Muramase: Come over in the afternoon.]
[Muramase: I'm 70-ish percent done.]
[Clerval has sent a sticker of an ash-blond boy with an impressed expression.]
[Muramase: See ya.]
[MURAMASE GIN has gone offline.]
Watching as the chat deactivated in real time, Clerval put his Scroll down and started brushing his teeth again.
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NEXT UPDATE: 13 May, Thursday
A/N: Had to rush to complete some assignments, sorry for the wait!
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