Back at the church, we step inside, with a small group of recruits already grouped up in the largest area of the room, half-circled around two people dueling with a set of bokken.

They’re at least wearing fencing masks, but otherwise they are lightly protected. I can tell little things off about their footwork or their blade positioning-how they scramble slightly in response to a lunge, or block an attack dead-on instead of deflecting, but ultimately I can’t help but notice that their fundamentals and aggression are still quite sufficient. This might put them above some of the more feeble schools I’ve heard of, but perhaps not the best in terms of upholding the art.

Ultimately, it was indeed a decent school, if completely irreverent of tradition, but I personally wasn’t sure it was ever going to be an amazing school on its merit alone, at least not on paper. The mystique of being a ‘hidden’ school must work wonders for them, though, so far as the recruits that they do end up with are concerned.

I make my way past the dueling circle and over to the old man, sighing. “So, you wanted to try and train me?”

“Honestly… I suspect you’re on an entirely different skill level from all the other recruits, even my best hand-picked disciples, so I won’t bother trying to teach you the same old techniques all the other recruits have been digesting, so instead I’ve decided to give you something entirely different.”

The old man walks over to a door, labeled ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ and enters it as I follow him through, revealing an open wooden floor area surrounded by several bookshelves and a desk with a chair on one side of the room. Opposite the desk is a small rack holding an assortment of weaponry, including blunt steel trainer swords of several varieties. As a whole, it feels every bit like what I would imagine a swordmaster’s study to look like. The only thing it was missing was a fireplace, but that could be excused given the existence of electric-powered lighting in this age.

“This is my war study. I’ve collected many different pieces of literature of historical fighting arts over the years; such was my contribution to this place before I was left steering the ship at the helm.”

“So you weren’t the original leader of the Haracrein?”

“Unfortunately, no, I was merely a co-founder, and not the more important one in my own opinion. The other co-founder had a much more intimate understanding and a much more traditional background in Japanese swordsmanship. I focused more on reconstructing the long-dead European swordfighting arts, though the other co-founder did give me a few pointers in kenjutsu, at least.”

“What happened to the other co-founder?”

Sigmund paused. “I…” He takes a moment to clear his throat. “I’d rather not talk about it right now.” I can tell in his voice that it was a part of his past that hurts, hauntingly not too far from how my past pains me.

He moves over to a particular shelf, quickly picking out a book as if he knew its precise location by instinct alone. “Anyway, I think you’ll find this quite interesting as your first area of study: Tessenjutsu.” He holds the book out to me. Considering the old-fashioned (some might say classy) aesthetic of the library, it was in surprisingly close to mint condition. I take the book and open the pages, finding the internal content of the pages to be just as crisp as the external appearance of the book. He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a hand fan, still closed, but with the edges made of metal. He hands it over, and I feel it; its weight is surprising, but otherwise I don’t see much use in a simple metal stick like this.

“It doesn’t look like much of a weapon to me, sir.” I look it over one more time, as it just feels like a fancy blackjack to me. I think I’ve run into them before, but I’ve never done any real research on the proper arts of fighting with these weapons.

“That’s quite intentional; these were used in ancient Japan as a discrete form of self-defense weapon, and apparently was effective enough to get an entire art dedicated to it-I personally found some of the forms to be fairly similar to the rondel dagger’s treatises. I’m sure you’ll find something of use to you in that manual.”

“Very well, I’ll be taking your word for it. Say, what’s your name?”

“Sigmund.” He nodded. “Now, I’ll give you some time to have a look while I examine the structure of my recruits.” He leaves the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

I’m left to my own devices as I take a cursory look through the manual, noticing that it mentions striking (whether with the point or the edge), joint locks, and using the open fan to deflect projectiles. I open the fan, and find that instead of paper, it’s a set of steel plates held together by small rings. Actually, that does sound pretty helpful in a street fight. I close the fan again, and read on, finding a variety of joint lock maneuvers using the tessen, as well as a basic primer on how to deflect varying weapons with the tessen, as it had no handguard.

I maneuvered the tessen around in my hand. While I wouldn’t depend on it in a swordfight, it was a less-lethal option that I figured would suit me quite well. I slip the tessen into my pocket, and leave the study, leaving the book on the table as well, since I figured Heinrich would know better where to put it back than I did. The lead we had on the betrayal case wouldn’t last forever, so I decided it would be best to get back to Lenny soon instead of trying to learn every last secret of this new and unusual weapon.