CLEAVER OF SIN Chapter 727: Combat [Castle Bonus - ]

The following day dawned, and Asher followed his unchanging routine: wake, wash, brush, and then teleport away. As always, he was the final one to arrive, his timing consistently, almost deliberately, precise.

Much like the week prior, a new Instructor appeared and promptly whisked them all away to their training grounds. Naturally, Asher had already removed his Position Mark, intending to reapply it at their new destination once they were settled.

To everyone's surprise, they materialized not on the ground, but suspended in midair. The surroundings were a spectacle of about two hundred mountains, enveloped by trees. These weren't the towering peaks of legend, but more akin to massive hills. Still, their sheer number formed a striking and imposing panorama.

"Attention," the Instructor's calm, commanding voice resonated, drawing all eyes. "For the past two weeks, you honed your bodies and overall strength. Last week, your focus shifted to speed, pain tolerance, reaction time, and similar attributes. This week, we embark on a new and evident training objective." A brief pause hung in the air, amplifying the anticipation. "We will be training you in combat."

Upon hearing this, the students, usually seen with furrowed brows, displayed visible relief and even excitement. After all, none had yet truly engaged in combat wielding their weapons. Though they carried their arms, no meaningful opportunity to employ them had arisen. Even Asher, who had carried Virelass at his hip for the past eight months, had yet to draw it, as it remained within his soul.

"Before you get too carried away, this training will be unconventional," the Instructor, now known as Sam, clarified. "Throughout your lives, you've likely fought with a single weapon type. But on the battlefield, unpredictability reigns. Your weapon might be lost, shattered, or rendered useless. What then? Do you simply cease fighting? No. You find the nearest suitable weapon and continue the engagement. It's that simple." His tone remained even, yet his words carried significant gravity.

"Therefore, in this combat training, you will select a weapon and engage in battle with it," Instructor Sam elaborated after another short pause. "With more time, I might have imparted basic proficiency in every weapon type. However, we lack that luxury. And what better way to gain experience than through actual combat?" His voice carried clearly to every student.

"Given our limited week, the approach is straightforward. Today, you'll spar with one specific weapon type. Tomorrow, you'll switch to another, and so forth. Crucially, you will not use the weapon you are most proficient with. And rest assured, deception is futile; I am already aware of each of your specialized weapons," Instructor Sam continued.

Asher couldn't help but release a sigh. He surmised that Cindralis implemented this training due to prevailing rules or the inherent nature of the competition. Imagine the outcry if participants were mandated to wield entirely random weapons; many would be utterly overwhelmed, unless they possessed an extraordinary ability like Instructor Jane's.

"This training will enhance your combat awareness, efficiency, and tactical acumen," the Instructor reiterated. With a sharp snap of his fingers, countless weapons materialized in the air, each halting directly before a student, held in place by Instructor Sam's will.

Asher surveyed the array thoughtfully. His expertise lay with the rapier, a type of sword. Opting for another sword variation would completely negate the training's purpose. After a moment's deliberation, Asher selected a polearm. Though he had no prior experience with such a weapon, he felt confident in his ability to quickly master its essentials with a few practice swings and adjustments.

Some students opted for safer, albeit predictable, choices. William, a greatsword specialist, immediately chose a sabre. Thalric, a sabre wielder, didn't hesitate, swiftly selecting a rapier – he was among the first to choose, requiring no contemplation.

As for Finch, skilled with a chain, he simply opted for a whip, recognizing the similar mechanics and flexible combat applications shared by both weapons.

Instructor Sam observed them for a brief period, a slight shake of his head betraying his thoughts. He resolved that tomorrow, the rules would be clarified: those specializing in swords would not be permitted to simply select another sword type to fulfill the requirement. However, this clarification would come later, as students had already made their choices without this specific restriction being announced beforehand.

"Now that you have all concluded your preparations, I shall elucidate the specifics of the combat training," he announced once more. "Your objective is straightforward: ascend to the summit of a designated hill. Nothing more, nothing less. Furthermore, only physical engagements are permissible; the use of any abilities is strictly forbidden. It is also stipulated that only two individuals may contend for each hill, approaching from opposing sides," he declared with unwavering clarity, leaving no ambiguity in his instructions.

A collective nod of understanding rippled through the students. No queries were voiced; an intuitive grasp of the situation had already formed. They surmised that an obstacle, whether a person or something else, would undoubtedly await them at the base of every hill, compelling them to engage in combat to progress upwards.

"Proceed then," Instructor Sam commanded.

Scarcely had the students processed the command when the force of gravity relentlessly asserted itself, yanking them downwards with palpable intensity. Yet, not a single cry escaped their lips. Despite the initial shock, their expressions regained composure within moments, their equilibrium re-established almost instantaneously.

Asher couldn't suppress an internal sigh. It had been merely ten months prior, during the Star Academy's combat assessment, when they had been similarly plummeted from the sky. Now, this combat training mirrored that experience with the same descent method. He pondered if a more profound significance lay concealed within this recurring tactic for arrival.

Dismissing the notion with a shake of his head, he cast aside the thought. Without forfeiting any more precious time, he initiated his movement. His form contorted mid-descent, subtly altering his trajectory to intercept another student. Upon nearing his target, Asher executed a brief, firm step upon their form, using it as a springboard to propel himself towards yet another classmate, employing them as temporary perches in his rapid descent towards the earth.

As the ground neared, a final push off a fellow student allowed him to alight with practiced grace. Without a word, he surged forward, his body slicing through the atmosphere, leaving a faint whisper of disturbed dust in his wake.

Though he had utilized his classmates as stepping stones during their fall, not one dared to voice a complaint. Moreover, Asher had applied his method equally to all, regardless of gender, demonstrating no discernible partiality. In his assessment, the concept of gender-based favoritism held no relevance.

Soon after, the entire cohort touched down, immediately dispersing towards the various hills, broad smiles illuminating their faces. Finally, the moment had arrived to plunge into the heart of combat, to experience the visceral thrill of battle, the sharp clang of weaponry, and the unbridled release of their amassed strength.

And for the first time since the commencement of their training, a fervent excitement supplanted the lingering apprehension.

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