“The art of the blade is not just about strength,” Lupin declared, his golden eyes scanning the crowd. “It’s about control, skill, and discipline.”
Jin nodded, his arms crossed. “We accept students of all levels, provided they have the resolve to push themselves beyond their limits.”
Elric smirked, folding his arms. “I’ve already had formal training. Part of my upbringing, you see. Escrime is practically a requirement for someone of my status.”
Rune hummed, looking thoughtful. “I’m better with a bow than a blade.”
Fibble scoffed. “Oh yes, because we all know goblins are just renowned for their chivalrous dueling skills.”
Lupin raised a brow but didn’t comment, while Jin simply looked amused. The club seemed to pique Elric’s interest, but after a brief conversation, none of you decided to sign up, and you moved on to the next club.
The Color Clash Club’s booth was hard to miss, a riot of banners and vivid splashes of paint decorating the stand. Standing at the front was Thatcher Squeakefield, a small but confident mouse beastman, and beside him, Lazlo Quickstride, the gray-furred, ever-smirking dormleader of Mousetrail.
Thatcher was the first to notice Rune, and his ears twitched, eyes narrowing slightly. Lazlo, though relaxed in posture, held an unreadable expression, his tail flicking idly.
“So, what’s this club about?” Rune asked, unfazed by their wary gazes.
Thatcher straightened. “Color Clash is a strategic competition club—teams use enchanted arrows filled with magical powder to ‘paint’ their opponents and earn points. It’s not just about aim, but agility, tactics, and teamwork.”
Lazlo tilted his head. “You’re interested?”
Rune hesitated for the briefest moment before shaking his head. “Not my thing.”
Fibble clicked his beak. “Oh, sure, let’s all pretend we don’t see the obvious. Real warm welcome you got there.”
Elric scowled, clearly displeased with their attitude, but Rune waved it off. Thatcher and Lazlo nodded in polite farewell, though their uncertainty lingered as you left.
The next stop was the Baseball Club. There, you met Imran Frosham, a first-year beastman with shaggy brown hair that fell over his eyes, his large horns making him stand out even in a crowd. He had an easygoing demeanor, and when Rune’s tail curiously nuzzled him, he instinctively scratched it without hesitation.
“You’re new,” he observed with a friendly smile. “I just joined this club but the leader had an emergency. Thinking about joining?”
Elric shook his head. “Not my style.”
Rune chuckled. “I’d rather dodge a ball than hit one.”
Fibble huffed. “Now, if we were allowed to use the bats on certain people, that would be a club worth joining.”
Imran laughed but didn’t argue, wishing you luck as you moved on.
The Racing Club’s booth was manned by Caspian Willowrun, a hare beastman radiating boundless energy. He smirked at your approach, his long ears twitching.
“Didn’t expect to see a goblin-fae here,” Caspian remarked offhandedly, his tone more blunt than malicious. “You’re not thinking of messing with my club right ?”
Rune merely smiled, slightly shaking his head.
Elric’s expression darkened. “I’d suggest thinking before you speak next time.”
Caspian blinked, then winced. “Ah. Yeah. That was dumb, wasn’t it?” He cleared his throat. “Alright, my bad. Anyway, this club is all about running—sprints, relays, long-distance. If you like speed, this is the place.”
Fibble made an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, because nothing sounds more thrilling than running in circles.”
Caspian chuckled. “It’s more fun than it sounds.”
None of you were interested, but Caspian took the rejection in stride, waving as you left.
As you got closer to the Gymnastics Club, the leader enthusiastically welcomed a new recruit, Kadar Serpentscale, a snake beastman with striking two-toned hair. He silently signed his name onto the list, his forked tongue flicking out briefly as he listened to the leader’s explanations.
Then, the leader leaned in with a sleazy grin. “Guess it makes sense a snake would join gymnastics. Bet you’re real good at bending in all sorts of ways, huh? You should show me just how much sometime.” He let out a low chuckle, winking. “Maybe after practice, yeah?”
Rune immediately grimaced.
“Wow. That’s so incredibly rude.”
Elric made a disgusted sound, and even Fibble clicked his beak in disapproval.
Kadar, however, merely smiled—a slow, dangerous smile that sent an involuntary chill down your spine. The leader visibly paled, stepping back as Kadar tilted his head slightly.
“I’ll see you at practice,” Kadar said simply, his tone smooth but carrying an unmistakable weight.
Even Elric took a cautious step away.
With no interest in joining, you and your group moved on, leaving behind the lingering tension of the moment.
Ahead, the art clubs awaited.
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