News of the new recruit travelled quickly. There was no doubt about it now—the organization was making the switch from male to female Claymores, which was both a surprise and not. As the organization’s first foray into the realm of opposite-gender Claymores had ended badly, most of the Claymores had expected them to give up the prospect. Nonetheless, the new addition to the ranks had apparently showed more potential than her predecessor, starting almost twenty ranks above where the previous female Claymore had.
The first female Claymore, Roisin, started at an unimpressive rank 30. With more than enough room to grow and rise, everyone was ready for her to soar. Instead, they saw the new recruit’s descent through the ranks that plateaued at a measly rank 41. Such dramatic drops happen only rarely and mostly occur when the organization has incorrectly judged a Claymore’s potential as those that have been moved down will seek out the new addition and prove their strength before requesting that the organization revise their numbers. While the current ranks didn’t wish to see any major changes in the higher ranks, they also didn’t want to deal with another minor interruption. Hopefully this Claymore would settle things once and for all.
Raynald flicked his sword before sheathing it, refusing to cast another glance at the shameful corpse at his feet. The dead yoma below him had used its last living breaths to beg for its life rather than trying to defend itself, and Raynald looked down on such weakness. For the rank two, many an opponent had bowed down in awe at his skills, and—as a warrior at heart—it was more frustrating than disheartening.
“Raynald!” a voice called from behind the rank two. Ansgar dropped down from the roof of a nearby building with a steady thunk as he landed on his feet. Waving cheerfully to the fellow Claymore, the rank one jogged over and clapped Raynald on the back, ignoring how his fellow Claymore shot him daggers through his eyes as he did so. “How are you? It’s been too long since we’ve talked, hasn’t it?”
“Hello, Ansgard,” Raynald said, sighing and acknowledging Ansgard’s presence. “What brings you to this sector?”
“Nothing much,” Ansgard said with a grin as he looked around at the scenery around him. “It’s pretty calm around here, huh? Kinda boring,” he noted, eyes not even pausing as they glossed over the corpse of the yoma on the ground. Raynald didn’t offer a reaction, and Ansgar didn’t mention anything of it. Instead, the new arrival brightened up as he realized what he’d come to the desolate other side of the world to do. “Oh! That’s right—there’s a new recruit, have you heard? Another girl—rank twelve.”
Raynald raised a brow, surprised at the change in topic. “Yes, and what of it? It’s not like you to take interest in the lower ranks, Ansgar.”
The rank one laughed, agreeing. “Yes, it is a bit odd, isn’t it?” he mused. “I usually don’t bother with Claymores so weak.” Brightening up, Ansgar looked to Raynald again. “But aren’t you curious? What if she has potential? Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Would it matter?” Raynald asked flatly. Despite being the most powerful Claymore Raynald had ever met, Ansgar struck Raynald as someone with all brawn and no brain, too much power and too little thought to go with it. At times the rank one acted more like a child than a grown man, and Raynald disliked that part of him. Should someone set their mind to it, Ansgar would be very easily manipulated—especially if that person made sure to stroke his ego for him.
“Of course it would, Raynald,” Ansgar said, grinning and hooking his fellow single digit into a conspiratorial one-armed hug. “You see now, the organization has finally come to the understanding that we male Claymores need female counterparts,” he explained, a deadly serious expression on his face, “and I can’t very well let them down, can I?”
“Ansgar, I don’t think,”
“Oh you’re no fun, Raynald. This is why the girls all go crazy for me, not you. If there were girls, I mean.”
@lazarus
The first female Claymore, Roisin, started at an unimpressive rank 30. With more than enough room to grow and rise, everyone was ready for her to soar. Instead, they saw the new recruit’s descent through the ranks that plateaued at a measly rank 41. Such dramatic drops happen only rarely and mostly occur when the organization has incorrectly judged a Claymore’s potential as those that have been moved down will seek out the new addition and prove their strength before requesting that the organization revise their numbers. While the current ranks didn’t wish to see any major changes in the higher ranks, they also didn’t want to deal with another minor interruption. Hopefully this Claymore would settle things once and for all.
Raynald flicked his sword before sheathing it, refusing to cast another glance at the shameful corpse at his feet. The dead yoma below him had used its last living breaths to beg for its life rather than trying to defend itself, and Raynald looked down on such weakness. For the rank two, many an opponent had bowed down in awe at his skills, and—as a warrior at heart—it was more frustrating than disheartening.
“Raynald!” a voice called from behind the rank two. Ansgar dropped down from the roof of a nearby building with a steady thunk as he landed on his feet. Waving cheerfully to the fellow Claymore, the rank one jogged over and clapped Raynald on the back, ignoring how his fellow Claymore shot him daggers through his eyes as he did so. “How are you? It’s been too long since we’ve talked, hasn’t it?”
“Hello, Ansgard,” Raynald said, sighing and acknowledging Ansgard’s presence. “What brings you to this sector?”
“Nothing much,” Ansgard said with a grin as he looked around at the scenery around him. “It’s pretty calm around here, huh? Kinda boring,” he noted, eyes not even pausing as they glossed over the corpse of the yoma on the ground. Raynald didn’t offer a reaction, and Ansgar didn’t mention anything of it. Instead, the new arrival brightened up as he realized what he’d come to the desolate other side of the world to do. “Oh! That’s right—there’s a new recruit, have you heard? Another girl—rank twelve.”
Raynald raised a brow, surprised at the change in topic. “Yes, and what of it? It’s not like you to take interest in the lower ranks, Ansgar.”
The rank one laughed, agreeing. “Yes, it is a bit odd, isn’t it?” he mused. “I usually don’t bother with Claymores so weak.” Brightening up, Ansgar looked to Raynald again. “But aren’t you curious? What if she has potential? Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Would it matter?” Raynald asked flatly. Despite being the most powerful Claymore Raynald had ever met, Ansgar struck Raynald as someone with all brawn and no brain, too much power and too little thought to go with it. At times the rank one acted more like a child than a grown man, and Raynald disliked that part of him. Should someone set their mind to it, Ansgar would be very easily manipulated—especially if that person made sure to stroke his ego for him.
“Of course it would, Raynald,” Ansgar said, grinning and hooking his fellow single digit into a conspiratorial one-armed hug. “You see now, the organization has finally come to the understanding that we male Claymores need female counterparts,” he explained, a deadly serious expression on his face, “and I can’t very well let them down, can I?”
“Ansgar, I don’t think,”
“Oh you’re no fun, Raynald. This is why the girls all go crazy for me, not you. If there were girls, I mean.”
@lazarus