Сломанные крылья Серебра / The Broken Wings of Silver: 5

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Shikuno, Ristol City - Dan Lier, the human being
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Camrad_RIP 20.05.25 в 21:53

Gradually, I am getting involved in my studies. Despite all the local specifics of the educational process. I have already stopped being irritated by the fact that it will be difficult to learn something new at school. I learn more about the world around me from newspapers.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:09

No, it hasn't become easy. Far from it! To keep up with the level, I have to work hard not only in class, but also pore over my textbooks at home. If it weren't for my ability, improved memorization in astral form, then there simply wouldn't be enough time for meditation. How do other students cope? It seems like no one here has a personal life; there's just no time. Or you have to be a workaholic or a genius.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:10

Over the last five days, there has been progress in only one thing. I learned to perform "separation" in just five "pendulum swings". I couldn't summon a bloody-crimson glow on my astral hands. I also didn't reveal the secret of the Smesharik's tracks, and I haven't seen him again. I tried to call him all weekend. But I did it carefully so as not to attract anyone else. He didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:11

Thinking about who this green-lichen spirit is, I came to the conclusion that he is none other than a brownie. He didn't attack, didn't kill, helped "mask" the room, but didn't try to get acquainted and generally tried to be unnoticeable. A couple of times, I poured milk into a saucer and put it near the threshold, but no one touched the milk. Perhaps in this world, brownies are thanked somehow differently? I'll have to look through local legends and traditions on this matter.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:12

On Friday, I finally decided to join the clubs and signed up for the Library club.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:12

Tomorrow is Tuesday, just the right time to sit in silence and leaf through books. But that's tomorrow, today is Monday. I walk after Physical Education, along a path covered with tightly fitted cobblestones, and look around. I remember Kano's promise, but this time he won't catch me off guard.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 16:55

I'm not doing well with social adaptation and making friends in class. Honestly, I'm not doing well at all. A rumor has spread through the school like a hurricane that I crossed Kano's path, and now everyone is avoiding me like a leper. No one wants to be friends with a boxer's enemy. Only many girls look at me sympathetically from afar. A handsome man challenges a troll, it's so romantic. The rumors about what our conflict is about are the craziest.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 16:56

Even Nouri avoids me, though not because he's afraid of Kano, but simply because he feels guilty for not warning me about the club in time. And people tend to minimize communication with those they feel guilty towards. I understand this, and I don't hold a grudge against him. Because of this attitude of the president, Emry avoids me, too. For some reason, this hurts a little. Just a little, but it hurts.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:01

I'm really not angry at the president. If he were older, then yes. But he's just a sixteen-year-old boy who forgot what seemed to him an insignificant detail. I don't see any point in getting mad and winding myself up in anger at him.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:02

But I still haven't been able to forgive Kano, that big guy. I seem to understand his anger and motivation, but I can't accept or forgive him. The rage and malice have already passed, evaporated over these five days; only an icy, cold desire remains to give him a worthy answer. True, I haven't figured out how to do it yet. But it's okay. I'll figure it out, I have no doubt about it.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:03

On Friday, after literature class, the curator Uramo gave me a list of things I had to buy and bring with me to the first Shatano class. The list was short, with only two items: high hiking boots and a set of work clothes designed for a general worker. Okay, boots, theoretically understandable. They might be needed, but why would I need a robe?

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:05

I thought that sports classes were held in the school's many gyms or on sports grounds. That was basically the case, but it turned out there was an exception to this rule - Shatano.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:06

Following the plan, I turned around the eighth building and walked along the path of the school park. Warehouse number three should be somewhere around here. Why the sword club was assigned to the warehouse, not like everything else in the gym, I still had to figure that out.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:08

"Cough!" Kano stood at the entrance to the warehouse, leaning casually against the wall.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:08

The boxer had a happy smile on his face. And if it weren't for the way his eyes narrowed, one could say that the smile was kind.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:14

"Come in, don't be shy." The school bully opened the door for me.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:13

"Thank you." Keeping a straight face, I squeezed past him.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:14

This feigned calmness did not come easily to me. I was expecting a blow all the time, but tensing my muscles meant admitting that I was afraid of him, and that was a loss of face in the local version of "etiquette". However, I know from my own memory that if you show your fear, it will come back to haunt you. The worst thing is that I was really afraid of him. I was not afraid, I was not terrified of him, but I did not want to get his fist in my stomach or nose again.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:10

The fears turned out to be false. The boxer didn't lay a finger on me. If it weren't for the anticipatory grin on his face, it would have seemed to me that the president had explained everything to him, he understood everything, and didn't hold a grudge against me. But that smile...

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:15

Sport club. I have certain stereotypes in my mind for such a phrase. Well, today they were smashed to pieces by Mr. Lancer.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:12

First of all, who gathers their students for their first lesson in a gardening equipment warehouse?

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:15

Second, how can a teacher greet newcomers with the words:

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:15

"I am Master Lancer." Pointing a finger at himself. "You are nobody." Already at us, the six guys, frozen in complete shock from what we heard. "Change into robes!"

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:16

As I had not had time to get acquainted with anyone in the group before the teacher came and knew only Kano, I did not know the name of the boy who opened his mouth and apparently was going to object to something. So, no sooner had the skinny kid, second year of study, something to say, as the master made an unnaturally smooth, outwardly slow, dragging, but in reality very fast step forward and poked the young man in the solar plexus with a shovel handle, which appeared in teacher's hand out of nowhere.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:27

"Speaking in my classes is forbidden!" Lancer commented on his actions, sitting down next to the schoolboy, who was doubled over in pain, and patting him on the shoulder.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:17

Third, who in their right mind would trust a sadist to teach children? But they did!

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:17

"Remember... Complaining about me is useless. Shatano training is regulated by the Code. The main postulates of the Code were approved more than eight thousand years ago and have hardly changed. Since Shatano is recognized in our country as an important element of historical heritage, training according to the Code is approved in secondary and other educational institutions from the age of sixteen. I remind for the stupid, approved according to the Code. That is, if training in my section does not affect your health irreversibly, I will not bear any responsibility before the law of our country. Put this on!"

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:19

As soon as we changed into our work clothes, the foreman pushed heavy bags at our feet, each with a name tag sewn on it. In the bag was something like a hockey uniform, or rather not the uniform itself, but the protection. Shields, helmet, breastplate, and so on, all made of thick plastic.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:28

"Showing the first and last time." With these words, the master unsealed the bag at his feet and began to put on the same protection, commenting on what to put on first, what to put on afterwards, and how it all fastened.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:29

In addition to this, he managed to give us his own unique introductory lecture.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:19

"Previously, during the time of the Divided Provinces, first-year recruits took a vow of silence. Alas, in our time, this is unachievable in principle, so you are obliged to remain silent only during these classes. The rest of the time, this ban does not apply to you." Having said this, the teacher sighed with obvious regret. "You can leave the club at any time if you do not agree with the fact that I adhere to the classical, and not the newfangled and considered progressive school of teaching Shatano."

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:20

At these words of the master, I surreptitiously looked at the other students. Three of them, Kano and two other athletic-looking young men, for some reason, cast angry glances at me, and not at Lancer. The other two, both clearly not athletes, one tall as a watchtower and thin, the other the complete opposite, short and plump. Just like the classic pair of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Unlike the "athletes", these two, despite the fact that the tall one had already managed to get it from the teacher, looked at Lancer without anger or fear. And no one was going to leave and abandon the section. Bad.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:21

"By the way, regarding 'leaving the club', this does not apply to you, students Kano, Bruso, and Khorin. You all signed up here in exchange for my leniency with your grades now." A look at the boxer. "Or next year." This already applies to the sports pair from the third year of study. "So if you decide to leave this club, you can not count on my leniency." All those listed by Lancer immediately changed their faces. "The rest can do it right now."

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:23

I don't understand. Okay Codex. The specifics of the training really can be like that, and since the club was allowed, it's within the law. I don't think Lancer's training methodology is the norm, but judging by the looks of the guy I mentally nicknamed Sancho Panza, he knew exactly what he was getting into and wasn't surprised. I do not understand the other. Why is the master now pressurising the three of not bound by the promise to leave the club? He does it hard and clearly on the edge, but he wants exactly that one of us decides to leave, and the club is closed. But why his student and my class mentor, so insistently push me into this club and describe how Master Lancer sleeps and sees, how he would start training schoolchildren? There's some kind of disconnect that I don't understand yet.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:49

At first glance, putting on sports armor for the first time without mistakes is a non-trivial task. It is not possible to do without mistakes the first time. But, either Master Lancer is a genius of education and explanations, or motivation in the form of a shovel handle in his hands, but everyone got dressed, and it seems like no one messed up anything.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:25

"Since there are no people willing to leave the section yet, let's get down to training." With these words, the teacher turned around and headed for the exit. "Follow me. Run!"

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:25

It was pouring a fine, nasty, cold rain outside, but that didn't stop the master. Following him, we ran out into the street and started to run laps around the warehouse. Running in hockey uniforms was not so easy. After three laps, Lancer wondered aloud that six dorks like us hadn't fallen once, which made him incredibly upset! I mean, he wasn't happy that everyone had done so well; he was a weird teacher.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:51

"Follow me!"

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:51

Having given this command, the master changed the route, and now we were running along a narrow sandy path, going deeper into the school park. The run was not long, less than five minutes. We stopped at a small clearing surrounded by low but very ‘fluffy’ fir trees.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:52

There were seven flat, large stones on the clearing, one in the center, the other six in a semicircle. The master approached the central one, picked up a board lying nearby, and, placing it on the stone, sat down on top. He simply sat on the board, in armor, in the rain!

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:27

"Sit down!"

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:52

He'll put us all on sick leave in no time with this method! I don't know why I didn't leave at that moment, spitting on the displeasure of the mentor. Apparently, the herd instinct prevailed over self-preservation, and I can't explain the fact that I, like everyone else, picked up the board, put it on a rock, and stayed wet under the weather that was gaining strength.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:54

"I always conduct my Shatano classes outdoors. Rain, snow, wind, or heat, it doesn't matter. Unlike sports, Shatano is the art of combat, and real fighters who fought in real battles rarely walked on parquet or tiled floors! I don't intend to deviate from the Code in this. If any of you are weak in spirit and start to get sick, then first of all, I will check if he is really sick and not faking it." The teacher's gaze ran over the athletes, literally smearing them. It seemed to me that I really felt the pressure coming from the master. Pressure that somehow reminded me of the "gaze" of Smesharik! "And secondly, if someone starts to get sick, it means his spirit is weak and he has no place here. Shatano is not for the weak." Here, Lancer saw a grin in Bruso's eyes, who glanced sideways with pity at the frail first-year student. "Not for the weak in spirit, not in body! Bruso, any idiot can build up muscles, but training the spirit is many times more difficult!"

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:30

‘Training the spirit’ and the feeling of ‘pressure’ from the gaze. I now realise that I would stay in this сдги even if I were hung upside down for training and used as a makiwara. I think I have really found what I was looking for. Meanwhile, Lancer started some sort of introductory lecture.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 17:56

"Shatano is understood by many to be a common sword art. But this is fundamentally wrong. Because armour is as important to a fighter as his sword. Shatano is a symbiosis of body, mind, and skill. The combination and unity of sword and armour. And each of these elements is equally important. You're wearing hockey equipment, based on the armour of the age of division. You can't trust the real armour yet, but this one, as a surrogate, is suitable for initial training. - At these words, he unbuckled his armour and showed it to us. - In real armour, the outer part of this armour is forged from two millimetres of steel. It is impossible to penetrate it with a sword blow or a rapier jab..If you take the blow correctly. Nor can it be chopped with an axe or halberd. All other armour, in the danger zones, is covered with the same strong steel. Those places where the enemy cannot strike hard are covered with thinner steel. Alas, our ancestors never managed to create protection on mobile joints and make the armour complete. Technologically, they could not achieve that the whole body of the fighter was protected equally well. Unlike other people who compromised, our ancestors were wiser. They concentrated on protecting vital areas, making them virtually impenetrable. But since it was impossible to protect everything with steel, the art of fighting in heavy armour was born -- Shatano. Shatano is the art of unity between the fighter and his armour. A mastery of combat in which the fighter exposes only the indestructible metal to the enemy's blows, and parries blows to vulnerable points.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 18:03

While the teacher continued his lecture, I looked at the outfit I was wearing. I have to admit, it's a good defence. Correction, for hockey, good. The puck won't hit my solar plexus or neck from the side. But how to protect these ‘holes in the armour’ from a sword, sabre or rapier I can't imagine. Good, at least the belt and everything below was protected reliably, something like a skirt, but from the blow from below, such ‘armour’ will not protect. In addition, elbows, knees, inner thighs, armpits, and almost the whole neck were unprotected, except for the frontal view. The longer I looked, the more gaps I found. It would seem that something was worn under the metal of the armour, some variant of an underarmour. But nevertheless. It seems that all these loud words, ‘the art of fighting in armour’, are nothing more than an attempt to cover up the stupidity of the creators of this ‘miracle’, the armour of the times of Division. Apparently, in this world simply no one has thought of Gothic or Milanese armour. Because if they had, no Shatano would never have been born, banally for lack of necessity.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 18:06

Lancer spoke for another ten minutes, but more about history and deep traditions than telling anything really necessary and interesting. I listened inattentively, getting used to the protection I was wearing. After all, I had never played hockey, and wearing something like that was new to me.

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:31

"The introductory lecture is over." Having risen from the stone, the master bent down and took out several strange-looking sticks from the grass. "These are your bokken*."
/*a training sword in this case/

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:40

Passing by the student, Lancer threw a training sword onto his lap. And he did it without any piety or respect, just threw it like a football coach throws a ball. What I caught from the teacher was anything but a sword in the usual sense of the word. A long handle on which three of my fists could easily fit, that's all from the swords I was familiar with. The blade of this training weapon was a bundle of hollow, bamboo-like rods, tied with a strong rope every five centimeters, and the tip was "humanized" with a cork attachment. The weight of this "sword" impressed me, like three or even four kilograms, with a "blade" length of just over a meter!

Camrad_RIP 21.05.25 в 13:41