Several days ago...
In the underground temple somewhere on the West Coast of the New World, Francine stood before the enclosing group of masked swordsmen. These were the new generation of the Espada Clan.
To reclaim the honor of the clan, Dante Espada trained the next generation to become skilled and ruthless than ever before.
The death rate of his method was staggering, as over a thousand apprentices joined the training, and since then, only fifty remain.
Gazing through her golden-tinted eyeglasses, Francine observed them with scrutiny, perceiving their complexions and capabilities as swordmasters.
It seems that the old fool has learned his lesson.
The masked swordsmasters weren't as inexperienced as the former generation. Perhaps one of their training included becoming hunting dogs for the Federation.
"How does it feel, old man? To raise weapons and tools, instead of students who belong to your school." Francine remarked, her supple lips curving.
