School of the Badass

  The children started their next day as scheduled:

  Morning physical fitness, breakfast, theory class, tasks, break, and combat class.

  Physical fitness training resembled military-style routines. It consisted of a wide array of bodyweight exercises and stretches for the cadets.

  During the class, the one who had it easiest wasn't Jean, but Mojian.

  [That macho scholar is quite good. He was raised well,] Aaron praised.

  Everyone was adapting well. Some were slower than others, but all were integrating into the school at a steady pace.

  Jean was doing well with his cutting tasks. Even Uruk seemed satisfied. Of course, he didn't show it—he just stopped shouting in Jean's face and directed his yelling at the others who deserved it.

  As for combat, it was essentially the formless arts Jean used—but adapted to any and all weapons without exception.

  At first, the children observed the forms and execution.

  At the school, the name Formless Arts didn't exist, which left Jean puzzled, but he decided to ask Aaron later.

  When they first arrived at the school, it was Thursday. According to tradition, Aaron hated Mondays and Tuesdays, so the school had designated these two days as weekends.

  Saturday passed peacefully, save for a note:

  Specialized combat class.

  Along with the first two days, it was Sunday. Their schedule for the day was different. In the morning, it was the new class that was mentioned.

  They had yet to know what specialized combat was, as they were informed of it the day before without being given an explanation. But they knew one thing now:

  The school's tradition was firmly against children fighting one another. Children were never enemies of each other—it was always adults who ruined their lives and innocence.

  The school strictly banned combat between children.

  Instead, they fought teachers. Teachers were the level they should strive to surpass—and the true adult “enemies” until the day they finally grew up.

  Until their feet were strong enough to carry them anywhere without a worry.

  To Jean's surprise, the specialized combat teacher was someone he had met before—

  Someone he never would have expected.

  It was Malrik, standing alone in the center of the field.

  He was wearing what looked like woolen gloves and boots over his limbs.

  "Before we start," Ena spoke, pointing at the weapon rack.

  It had almost every known weapon in the history of the continent.

  "Choose a weapon you feel most comfortable with," Ena instructed.

  The six of them went to the weapon rack and chose their weapons.

  The school encouraged all kinds of weapon usage, no matter how impractical they might seem.

  Jean picked a spear, as always, while Sia chose a slim saber.

  As for Mojian, he selected a two-handed axe.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Whoooosh~

  They started moving and swinging the weapons, gaining familiarity with them.

  The other three kids were less sure about their choices.

  After a moment, each finally made a choice.

  Nina picked a sword, as it was a weapon she had seen frequently in the past.

  Zeroth picked a halberd. He felt oddly drawn to it and had been practicing with it recently, though his skill was still poor.

  Darvok, now standing among the other children without shivering, had received guidance from Teacher Ena regarding his classes and weapon of choice.

  He began using twin short swords.

  After everyone had chosen their weapons, Ena spoke:

  “Teacher Malrik has been away from the school until recently, but specialized combat classes for almost all levels have always been his personal task. I’ll stay on the sidelines today, but fear not. The items Teacher Malrik is wearing are for your safety—they will cushion the impact of his attacks. Also, the ground of this field is covered with a large number of spells to reduce impact damage. So attack and defend without fear of getting hurt.”

  Malrik stood still, not saying a word. He took a stance and signaled for them to come at him all at once.

  As usual, Sia’s tradition of rushing in and failing was upheld.

  Rushing forward gracefully, swinging her saber at Malrik, but—

  Bam!

  She was sent flying the same way she had rushed at Malrik.

  Falling head-first into the dust, her head snapped.

  In a daze, looking around, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

  For a moment, she was disoriented, then realized she was completely fine.

  Her gaze drifted, but to her surprise...

  No one made fun of her.

  Jean, who watched the exchange with eyes wide open, not daring to blink, felt that if Rian had been there, the two of them might have managed to land a hit—maybe.

  Excited, Jean looked at Mojian, only to find Mojian smiling back at him.

  “Brother Jean… shall we?”

  Jean smiled back.

  They rushed forward, with natural rhythm and coordination.

  Jean took the front since his Zigzag Maneuver was better than Mojian's, but Mojian's superior physique and mana control gave him higher attack power. Jean, however, was much slipperier.

  They approached Malrik rapidly, Jean’s spear poised to strike.

  Malrik stood still.

  [Formless Arts - Heartseeker]

  Jean launched his spear at Malrik’s chest, but Malrik shifted his body to the right, dodging the attack.

  Stepping to the left—Jean adjusted, twisting his body to attack again.

  [Formless Arts - Within Reach]

  The spear lunged at Malrik’s chest, but Jean, this time, managed to secure the spear butt without throwing it away.

  A faint smile crept onto Malrik’s lips, so faint that no one noticed.

  He once again took a step to the right, letting the spear pass by harmlessly.

  Mojian, who had been waiting, swung his great axe in a blindingly fast arc.

  Malrik leaned backward, letting the axe pass without even brushing the hem of his clothes.

  Malrik was enjoying their assault. He didn’t break their flow, wanting to see the extent of their abilities.

  Unlike Sia’s reckless rush, these two showed coordination and thoughtfulness.

  Awareness of their surroundings and opponent.

  It was rare for children their age to possess such combat awareness—whether by instinct, experience, or, in Mojian’s case, intelligence.

  Mojian was a child who had learned multiple combat theories, tactics, and execution strategies. If his imagination couldn’t keep up with what he was learning, and if his body couldn’t apply what he envisioned, his growth would halt altogether.

  As soon as Malrik straightened his back—

  Using the momentum of his axe swing, Mojian followed up with a downward strike.

  At the same time, Jean positioned himself behind Malrik to attack the spot where he might dodge.

  He didn't attack to observe, seeking an opening.

  But Malrik didn’t do what Jean expected.

  He turned his back on Mojian and stepped forward. The axe hit nothing but air.

  Malrik marched toward Jean, his fist ready to strike.

  Of course, he suppressed his physical capabilities and mana level, ensuring his movements remained comprehensible for the young cadets.

  Startled at the sudden shifts, Jean forced himself to hold his ground. He stepped to the left and launched another attack at Malrik, who was now dangerously close.

  [Formless Arts - Heartseeker]

  Mojian, on the other hand, panicked at the sudden shift in Malrik’s movement. He quickly started chasing after him, but Malrik was already moving fluidly within the tight six-step radius between them.

  Mojian gripped his great axe, the small spearhead nestled between the blades. He thrust forward with the motion of the Within Reach technique, aiming for Malrik’s legs.

  Malrik took another step to the left effortlessly, letting both their attacks miss entirely.

  Ditching his target, Jean, he turned back to Mojian, who was already at arm's length.

  In the blink of an eye, the last step was taken.

  The fist rose from downward to upward.

  Jean leapt at Malrik with spear aimed for a strike.

  But Mojian had no way to dodge, with his arm still in the attack position, but could react in time.

  Bam~

  Malrik’s fist slammed into Mojian’s chest, sending him flying backward.

  Without even glancing at Jean—who was still midair in an attempt to intercept Malrik’s attack on Mojian—Malrik raised his leg in a sharp, circular motion.

  It collided with Jean and sent him tumbling in the opposite direction of Mojian.

  In the end, Malrik stood still at the same spot where it all started, with both Jean and Mojian sprawling on the ground, after the dramatic crash on opposite sides of the field.