"You have got to be kidding me."
Siege stood in annoyance upon hearing Klaus's request, his gaze turning to Sol. "You want me to train your offspring?" he asked the god.
"Yes," Sol replied, his expression neutral.
"And why would I do that?" Siege asked. "Why should I waste my time training a child who lacks interest in anything at all?"
"Because that same child has gained an interest in becoming strong enough to protect the things he supposedly didn't care about," Sol replied, his expression calm. "And you wouldn't want to neglect such a person, would you?"
Siege looked at Sol in silence, recognizing his fellow god's seriousness. After a long pause, he sighed in annoyance.
"You understand the burden you're placing on me, Sol?" Siege said, his voice clearly unenthused.
"It's not like you have anything else to do," Sol replied with a smile. "And your own sons refuse to ask for your help with their training."
"My sons have too much pride to seek assistance from anyone," Siege responded, folding his arms as he looked away. "They only see value in sparring and personal growth."
"A trait undoubtedly inherited from you," Sol said with a short giggle.
"Perhaps," Siege murmured.
After another moment of silence, Siege finally rose to his feet. "Fine," he conceded. "But don't expect me to go easy on him."
"That's fine," Klaus interjected.
"I wasn't talking to you, spawn of Sol," Siege said without looking at Klaus.
"Ease up on him," Sol said with a smile. "Unlike us, he still fears you and can't tell when you're joking."
"I prefer it that way," Siege said flatly as he began walking away.
Without warning, Siege unfurled his wings, still avoiding Klaus and Sol's gaze. "Head to your training room," he instructed. "Do not keep me waiting."
Before Klaus could respond, Siege vanished, the gust of wind from his departure blowing past them.
Klaus stood stunned until Sol got his attention. "He's... intense, I know," Sol said with a smile.
"I can see that," Klaus replied quietly.
"But he's one of the closest gods to me that I trust completely," Sol continued.
Klaus remembered Zenith's account of Siege and Sol's past. "I believe that, too," he added.
Sol shifted his stance. "Well, you'd better not keep him waiting," he advised Klaus. "I can't guarantee your safety if you're late."
"Thanks for the reassurance, Dad," Klaus replied sarcastically before making his way back to Exalted City.
After transporting, Klaus arrived at his training room to find Siege already waiting, the god's arms crossed.
"You're late," Siege said irritably.
"I'm sorry," Klaus replied.
Siege exhaled sharply, his displeasure evident. Rather than taking offense, Klaus found himself intrigued by the depth of respect Siege must have for Sol to agree to this training.
Siege let out a frustrated sigh, and Klaus could clearly tell the god was far from thrilled about training him. But instead of feeling offended, Klaus found himself more intrigued than anything. The fact that Siege agreed to this at all spoke volumes about the respect he must have held for Sol.
"What do you know about war?" Siege asked abruptly, snapping Klaus from his thoughts.
"Uhh…" Klaus hesitated. "That it's when two opposing sides clash because of a disagreement, and it usually involves violence, bloodshed, or loss of life?"
"Was that a question or an answer?" Siege asked flatly.
"Uhh… an answer?" Klaus said again, uncertain.
Siege stayed silent for a moment before dismissing the response altogether. "If that's your understanding of war," he said bluntly, "then you know nothing."
Without warning, Siege raised his right hand to the air, his sharp gaze never leaving Klaus. In the blink of an eye, a sleek silver blade materialized in his grasp. Before Klaus could even react, the tip of the weapon halted mere inches from the center of his forehead, directly between his eyes.
Klaus froze in place. His heart pounded in his chest, the sudden appearance of the weapon sending shock through him. He hadn't seen the strike coming whatsoever.
Siege's arm remained extended, the blade hovering before Klaus as the god's hand tilted downward slightly due to their height difference. "War is meaningless if victory isn't the primary goal," he said, his voice quiet but heavy. "And that means cutting down anything or anyone that stands in your way. Don't ever forget that."
Klaus gave a slight nod, still unsettled by how close the blade sat from his face. A moment later, Siege finally released the weapon. Before it could fall to the ground, the weapon vanished, dematerializing into the air.
"Your first lesson in the art of war," Siege said, his eyes narrowing. "Never let your guard down. No matter who you're standing with."
Klaus remained quiet, knowing full well there was nothing to say. His Perfect Precognition had triggered during the swing, but even then, he hadn't been able to react regardless.
He was beginning to understand now: he wasn't dealing with enemies who couldn't keep up with his speed anymore. He was among gods, beings who could end him in an instant if they willed it, and this god before him, Siege, was the most terrifying example of that power. From the eradication of the monster race to effortlessly humbling Arthur, his own son, during his only interaction with the collective demigods, Siege's reputation wasn't just earned, it was undeniable.
Siege observed Klaus's silence, immediately recognizing its cause. "You really are your father's son," he said dryly, drawing Klaus's attention back. "Getting lost in your thoughts during combat will not do you any favors."
"S-Sorry," Klaus murmured.
"I don't want your apologies, demigod," Siege replied coldly. "I just want to see what you are capable of."
Klaus gave a small nod, readying himself for what was to come.
Siege began to walk slowly away from Klaus, his back turned. After a few paces, he stopped, his gaze still directed elsewhere. "Let me begin by asking you this," he said, his voice sharp and unwavering. "What makes you think you are worth my time and dedication?"
Siege turned his head just enough for one eye to catch Klaus in its piercing stare.
Klaus hesitated. He knew that a weak or rehearsed answer wouldn't suffice here. "Because I need to get stronger," he said, his tone earnest.
"I don't care about your strength," Siege replied without missing a beat.
Klaus took a breath, then tried again. "Because I want to be able to protect the people I care about."
"I don't care about your loved ones either," Siege shot back.
With his full attention now back on Klaus, Siege turned completely, folding his arms across his chest. "Nothing you've said sets you apart from anyone else. So tell me, spawn of Sol... why should I waste my time training you specifically?"
Klaus had to dig deeper. There was no surface-level answer that would satisfy someone like Siege, and he had to be honest with his words. "Because I'm weak," he said finally, voice low but steady. "And compared to the other demigods, I'm pathetic. I've lived a somewhat decent life, so I haven't faced the same kind of pain or hardship some of the others have."
He paused, then straightened up. "But… I'm also relentless. I don't give up when I'm knocked down, and I never stay down for long. I don't know if I'll ever be great, or if I'll ever be worthy of your time. But I do know I'll give everything I have to become a better version of myself."
Silence followed for a few moments.
"That wasn't the answer I wanted," Siege said bluntly, making Klaus flinch in shock. But after a short sigh, he added, "But… it will suffice for now."
Siege's expression hadn't changed once. That unflinching demeanor made the moment even more tense for Klaus, but Klaus understood he could do nothing about it.
"The first principle of your training," Siege began, stepping to the side with his hands clasped behind his back, "is mastery. And mastery cannot exist without understanding, especially in swordsmanship."
Klaus listened intently as Siege continued.
"Across history--Main World, Under World, it doesn't matter--those who have achieved true mastery, whether in the art of war or a personal craft, have always crushed their adversaries. Your desired level of mastery will determine the level of threat you want to pose."
Klaus took a moment to reflect before speaking, and only had one answer in mind. "Then I want to reach the same level of mastery as Lance," he said honestly. "I know it sounds unrealistic, but I want to learn to use a sword the way he has mastered his use of Camelot."
Siege's expression darkened immediately. "Several things about that statement irritate me," he said sharply, catching Klaus off guard. "First, you never model your mastery after someone else. You aim to surpass everyone, regardless of their status as friend or foe. You set your own standard."
He stepped forward slightly. "And second… while I'm aware that is the nickname my son gave this weapon, you will not refer to it as such in my presence and will only use its rightful name."
Klaus was shocked. He hadn't realized that Camelot, the golden spear Lance had mastered as his trump card, was merely the weapon's nickname. "I don't understand," he said. "So Camelot isn't the weapon's true name?"
"No," Siege said plainly. "Its original name is Impaler, and it is one of the Weapons of Imperium."
Klaus furrowed his brow, unfamiliar with the term. "Weapons of Imperium?" he repeated. "You mean there are more weapons like Ca… Impaler?"
Siege exhaled deeply, clearly seeing where this line of questioning was headed. He stepped closer, his voice grave.
"The Weapons of Imperium are sacred instruments of war housed in the Divine Arsenal. They cannot be altered, mimicked, or replicated, and only those with divine blood can wield them; as any mortal who dares to will be subjected to madness."
Klaus listened closely as Siege's words settled in.
"These weapons are unbreakable," Siege continued, "forged with divine precision. And they are among the very few things in existence capable of truly wounding a deity."
Klaus hadn't known weapons like these even existed. He had always seen Camelot--or rather, Impaler--as a remarkable weapon in Lance's hands, but learning that it had the power to harm gods redefined his entire perspective. Also, the fact that Lance had mastered such a weapon made his feat all the more impressive.
"These weapons are not to be taken lightly," Siege continued, his tone grave. "Mastering even one requires an immense amount of time and dedication, and the difficulty grows exponentially with each one. My son was able to master Impaler after years of relentless training, and yet, despite his mastery over every weapon created, even he has only ever mastered one Weapon of Imperium."
Klaus was stunned. He'd assumed Lance, given his prowess, might've wielded more than just one of these legendary weapons, but Siege's explanation made it clear why that wasn't the case. That brought another question to mind, one he remembered from something Arthur had once said.
"Is it true that Impaler is the strongest among them?" Klaus asked.
Siege took a moment before answering. "Yes," he confirmed. "Impaler is the most powerful accessible weapon within the Divine Arsenal. My son chose wisely, even if he didn't know what he was choosing at the time."
"So, how many are there exactly?" Klaus asked.
"There are nine that are accessible," Siege revealed. "You've already encountered Tidebringer."
Klaus thought for a second. "I'm assuming that's the one Trent was created from, right?"
"Yes," Siege replied. "It is wielded by Torrent for that very purpose. Another is Banisher, which is wielded by Nekro for the purpose of harvesting mortal souls. Then there's Vanquisher, currently in Flage's possession."
Siege's expression darkened slightly. "Frankly, I should've revoked his access to the Divine Arsenal after what he did to the pantheon," Siege muttered bitterly. "But Nekro insisted I leave him be."
Klaus could hear the bitterness in Siege's voice. He recalled vague mentions from Shade about Flage, but he had very little knowledge about what had truly happened for the god to forsake the pantheon. Also, he didn't dare to push his luck with unnecessary questions at the moment.
"These four are the only ones currently claimed by others," Siege continued, regaining composure. "The remaining five lie dormant in the arsenal, awaiting a time of need. These include Enforcer, Defender, Treasoner, Usurper, and Harbinger."
Klaus was enthralled. "Would it be possible to see them?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.
Siege gave him a look, reading the growing excitement on his face. "Unless you intend to spend the next several years trying to master one of them," he said plainly, "I suggest you let the knowledge suffice and return your focus to your training."
Klaus's eagerness wilted slightly at the words. "I… guess," he replied, the disappointment evident in his tone.
Moving on, Siege continued, his voice carrying the weight of command. "There are two foundational pillars to mastering swordsmanship," he said. "Patience and precision. A true swordsman knows when to strike. Not early, not late; exactly when it matters most to achieve optimal damage output. And when he does strike, he must do so with surgical accuracy at all times."
Turning away from Klaus, Siege extended his right hand. His palm faced the ground, and from it, a single golden droplet fell, landing silently at his feet. The ground responded immediately as it trembled, and from the small point of contact, thin roots sprouted and grew at an unnatural pace.
Klaus watched in awe as a tree rapidly began to rise from the floor, expanding in seconds into a towering golden structure. Its thick branches stretched outward, weighed down by countless red apples glimmering in the light.
"Understanding patience and precision," Siege said, his eyes fixed on the tree, "is not as simple as most assume. Because the truth is, very few truly understand when to strike… and how."
After his words, Siege raised his right hand once more and slammed it sideways into thin air. Instantly, it was as if the very air cracked open. His arm disappeared into a void, almost like he'd torn a hole into a hidden pocket of reality. Moments later, he slowly drew his hand back out, this time wielding a sleek, long blade that shimmered faintly, glowing with a light that dripped off its edge and faded into the air.
Siege held the weapon in his right hand, his gaze still focused on the golden tree. For a brief moment, he said nothing. Then, with fluid motion, he shifted into a battle-ready stance, slouching slightly with the blade drawn low around his left hip.
Klaus watched in silence, confused by Siege's stillness. But just seconds later, one of the apples on the tree dropped. And before it could even come close to touching the ground, Siege moved.
With a single swift motion, he drew his blade across his body in a blur, ending with the sword high at his right side.
Klaus stood stunned. The apple continued falling normally, appearing untouched, and he wondered whether Siege had missed. But then, as the apple fell to the ground, he realized what had happened. The apple had been sliced perfectly in half, watching as the top portion slowly slid off the bottom, the cut too precise to have been visible at first glance.
"Wow," Klaus muttered, wide-eyed.
Siege walked calmly over to the fallen fruit, but Klaus had no idea the surprise wasn't over.
As the god reached down, he picked something else up. It was not the two halves of the apple, but what appeared to be two paper-thin slices between them. As Siege turned and revealed them, Klaus could hardly believe his eyes. The slices were so thin, if held perfectly flat, they would vanish from sight.
Klaus was stunned. "You struck it more than once?" he asked, incredulous. "How?"
"My blade moved precisely the way I commanded," Siege answered plainly. "To the right, then to the left, then back again; each time striking the same point."
Klaus's mind reeled. He hadn't seen even a flicker of those extra strikes. But now it made sense; Siege had first sliced through the center, halving the apple. Then, while it still fell, he moved the blade to the left and struck again between the halves. And finally, he moved to the right for one more slice in the same precise location.
The accuracy was unthinkable.
"Once you master precision," Siege said, "your blade will obey you, no matter how minute your intent."
With that, Sige released his sword. It fell for a moment before vanishing, returning to the Divine Arsenal. Siege turned back to Klaus, his expression still unreadable.
"Your task," he began, "is to replicate exactly what I've just done, with the same patience and precision."
Klaus blinked. "What?"
"The apples will fall at random," Siege continued. "Could be seconds, minutes, or hours apart... it does not matter. You are to stand before the tree and wait patiently. And when an apple finally falls, you are to strike its center just as I have."
Klaus felt his stomach twist. He wasn't even trained with a sword yet, and now he was being asked to mimic one of the most impossible feats he'd ever seen.
But before he could voice his doubts, Siege added one final instruction.
"And one more thing," Siege spoke out. "You are not permitted to use your light-speed to perform this task; only your natural speed."
Klaus's face dropped. "But... that's impossible," he said in shock.
"Is it?" Siege replied coldly. "Then what would be the point of training you at all?"
"I…" Klaus stammered, unable to respond.
The thought rattled him. He didn't even think he could perform the task with Burst Speed, let alone without it. He wondered how he could ever move like that at all.
"Doubt is your greatest enemy, spawn of Sol," Siege snapped. "You have yet to try even once, and already you have decided it can't be done."
His anger flared. "If that is truly how you think," he spat, wings suddenly unfurling, "then I have no reason to waste my time with you."
"Wait!" Klaus called out, reaching a hand forward.
But it was too late. Siege took off into the sky, vanishing without another word.
Klaus sank to the ground, overwhelmed by frustration. He barely understood what had just happened, but he knew he'd brought it on himself. He had doubted, and in doing so, squandered a chance to learn from the embodiment of weapon mastery.
But as he sat there, wallowing, his eyes drifted back toward the golden tree that still stood tall.
Slowly, Klaus stood back up. He placed his fists together ahead of him before performing the action required to summon a Sol Blade into his grip. The radiant weapon formed in his right hand as he gripped it with his left, its light pulsing faintly in response to its nature.
Soon, Klaus mirrored the stance Siege had taken, adjusting it slightly to accommodate his left-handed grip. Then he stood in silence, breathing deeply. If patience and precision were what was required, then he made sure that he could deliver and achieve the goal provided to him.
Klaus spent the next several days consumed by the training, more focused than he'd ever been in his life. Day after day, eighteen hours at a time, he stood before the golden tree, attempting to recreate the impossible task Siege had left him.
The unpredictability of the apples' descent made the ordeal all the more punishing. Sometimes they fell within seconds. Sometimes not for hours. It demanded complete alertness, and his body was tense from keeping his guard up for so long. Yet despite this struggle with patience, mastering precision was even harder.
At first, Klaus missed every swing, cutting nothing but air. Eventually, his timing improved, and he managed to strike the falling apples, but not cleanly. His blade would slap them aside or send them tumbling, the cuts shallow or off-center, never splitting the fruit.
By the twelfth day, Klaus had made real progress. He could now land all three slashes before the apple touched the ground. But the strikes still lacked the godlike refinement he aimed for. He spent hours replaying Siege's demonstration in his mind; every motion, every stance, every angle. Then, during another quiet watch, an apple broke free from the tree, and he responded.
In one smooth motion, Klaus drew his Sol Blade from his right hip to the left, then back to the right, and finally halting on the level of his left shoulder. He struck the apple three times, yet it fell in a straight path to the ground, as though untouched by any interference.
Only when it hit the ground did the effect reveal itself. The top slid neatly from the bottom, revealing two thin slices between them.
Klaus stared in disbelief, breath caught in his throat. He walked closer and crouched to examine the apple, his heart pounding with cautious pride. But as he picked up the inner slices, he noticed something was off. One slice was slightly larger than the other, and the strikes were not at the exact center of the apple.
Klaus sighed, the thrill of success dimming as disappointment crept in.
"Good job."
Klaus spun around instinctively, his blade swinging swiftly, only to stop cold upon recognizing the familiar figure standing tall and impassive behind him. Siege.
The god's gaze remained on the apple, completely unfazed by Klaus's reaction.
"You managed to perform the given action," Siege said, his tone even. "And it only took you a few days. Impressive."
Klaus blinked, shocked by Siege's sudden return. He hadn't expected to see him again, not after the way he'd stormed off in anger. Slowly, he lowered his weapon from the god's direction.
"I didn't get it exactly right, though," Klaus admitted.
"That was expected," Siege replied. "Had I demanded perfection, I would have been prepared to wait for months. Still…" He turned slightly, his eyes narrowing. "You did well in such little time, Klaus Walker."
A subtle smile crept onto Klaus's face. It was the first time Siege had ever called him by name. "Thank you," he said quietly.
Klaus then began recounting the grueling process he had followed to reach this point. Siege listened, occasionally correcting his errors or pointing out flaws in his approach. He even offered subtle tips for developing more discipline, enhancing Klaus's understanding of the patience and precision required.
Klaus was surprised by the effort Siege had put into making him understand everything.
Half an hour soon passed as they dissected the training before something tugged at Klaus's mind, a curious memory he couldn't help but inquire about. "By the way," he said, glancing at Siege, "I learned from Zenith that my father saved you once… from some of the other gods who forsook you guys. I'm assuming that's true?"
Siege didn't speak for a while, his face unreadable. "Sol and Abyss are the closest siblings I have in the pantheon," he said at last. "I owe them my life, because they are the reason I still have it. That is why I agreed to train you. But… you've proven to be a more effective learner than I expected."
Siege turned, his eyes sharp now. "With that said," he began, regaining Klaus's full attention. "I will ask you once more. What makes you think you are worth my time and dedication?"
Klaus recognized that it was the same test from the beginning of their encounter. But this time, he understood the purpose of the question.
"Because I'm strong," Klaus answered without hesitation. "And I know I am worth the effort. I believe I can reach great heights, and with your guidance, I'm even more certain that nothing will be able to stop me."
For the first time, Klaus watched Siege smile with confidence. "Now you speak like a true warrior," Siege said. "If you lack confidence in your own strength, you have no right to pursue the art of war. Never forget that."
Klaus nodded, grateful not just for the words, but the recognition behind them.
Siege continued the session, focusing on finer elements of weapon handling. He taught Klaus how to better harness the nature of the Sol Blade, its composition of absolute light making it both sharper and lighter than most weapons, a double-edged advantage if not handled properly.
After several more hours, Klaus felt satisfied with the progress he had made. "I think that's enough for now," he said. "I'm grateful for the time you've given me, but I also understand you're a busy person."
"You are correct," Siege replied. "But that is not the only reason you wish to stop, is it?"
Klaus hesitated. "I... also want to see my family and friends back on Earth," he confessed. "It's been over three weeks, and there's something I need to fix before it's too late."
Siege sighed, his indifference clear. "Whatever you say, demigod." His wings unfurled once more. "If you ever need me again, hesitate before requesting my presence."
And in an instant, Siege vanished faster than Klaus could track.
Klaus stood in the silence that followed, and a small smile soon crept up. "I think he's warming up to me," he said aloud to himself.
With that, Klaus turned away and exited his training room, making his way back to Main World.