Bond Master

The Tactician's Eye

After two full hours of relentless drilling and a dozen different senior opponents cycling through the stone ring, Sergeant Rita Corvina finally raised her hand to signal the end of the session, callously turning away the next assistant proctor who had been preparing to step onto the platform.

"Alright, Barrett, that is more than enough for today. I have officially gathered all the raw combat data and physical behavioral profiles that I need from your movement," Corvina announced, her voice echoing across the hard-packed earth of the western training field.

She walked over to the wooden benches, picking up a clean towel and tossing it toward Ren. "It looks to me like you possess a remarkably sharp memory and an incredible survival instinct for someone who has quite clearly never won a single formal fistfight before in his entire life. That is a perfectly adequate foundation for us to immediately get started on the next round of your specialized instruction."

Ren caught the towel, wiping the stinging sweat from his eyes as his chest heaved. His bare feet were caked in dry dirt, and every single joint in his frame was throbbing from the impact of Tyson's and Derrick's blocks. He looked over at his instructor with a mixture of exhaustion and deep apprehension.

"The next round?" Ren asked, his voice rough from the dust of the ring. He took a heavy swig from his water bottle, feeling the cold liquid coat his parched throat. "What exactly are we going to have to do next, Sergeant? I'm honestly already struggling just to survive an unarmed wrestling match against a second-year agility student out here. I'm really not sure that throwing an entire pile of abstract theoretical knowledge at my head right now is going to help me win a vanguard fight."

Corvina let out a genuine, rare laugh at Ren's immediate concern, her sharp features softening for a brief moment before her serious, commanding military expression locked back into place. She gestured for him to follow her as she walked away from the raised stone platforms, heading toward the perimeter path.

"Relax, Barrett. We are absolutely not going to force you to memorize an entirely new textbook of magic formulas or martial styles over the next few days," Corvina explained, her boots clicking rhythmically against the stone walkway.

"Instead, what we will be doing starting tomorrow is tying absolutely everything you have learned over the last week into one singular, unified practical lesson, and then we are going to grind that drill into your brain until it is completely impossible for your muscles to forget it. You need to be able to effortlessly deflect high-speed projectile spells with your iron gauntlets while simultaneously managing a close-quarters fistfight, all while guiding Grim's movements at the exact same time.

Like an elemental mage who has been strictly tasked with handling both maximum offensive output and absolute frontline defense, you are going to be working double overtime out there. To survive the graduation trials, you need to rapidly build up your situational awareness."

Ren nodded slowly along as they walked, trying his best to look like he completely understood the complex nature of the training, but Corvina’s sharp eyes saw directly through his working-class subterfuge. She reached out, lightly tapping the iron-studded gauntlet strapped to his hip.

"What I truly mean by that, Ren, is that you must remain completely aware of where every single environmental threat is located at all times on a battlefield, or either you or that hound of yours will get yourselves into a massive amount of fatal trouble," Corvina explained thoroughly.

"You are an elite, but you are absolutely not indestructible, and intelligent monsters or enemy soldiers will actively try to lay complex ambush traps for you the second you cross the frontier borders. That means you can never allow Grim to simply run wild and act freely on his basic animal instincts during a high-tier engagement.

The enemy will quickly figure out exactly what to expect from a hound's natural predatory movements and counter it easily. You have to actively guide his positioning and command his skills while simultaneously protecting your own blind spots, all while maintaining a heavy, solid offense so that you can violently fight your way out of trouble if an ambush finds you in the dark."

"Well, when you put it like that, it honestly sounds like an immense amount of cognitive strain," Ren admitted, running a hand through his damp hair. "It must be incredibly vital if the administration is dedicating an entire track to it. How exactly am I going to balance all of that at once?"

"Through our practical skills training curriculum," Corvina replied smoothly, stopping near the edge of the residential sector path. "Your weekly schedule is officially locked in now. You will continue to undergo intensive accuracy and speed training with the casting mages every morning, followed by mixed martial arts and body conditioning in the afternoon. Then, you will dedicate an entire full day of the week to raw practical skills training.

Now, tomorrow is normally the odd day out for the majority of the first-year student class, where the standard students are allowed to take their basic elective subjects instead of their core military drills. But for a nonstandard track like yours, tomorrow means a full, grueling day of practical situational skills. Then, the entire day after that is a mandatory academy off-day. So use that time to completely catch up on your sleep, let your muscles heal, and you'll report back to the subterranean bunker with the mages first thing Monday morning."

At the very least, the academy hierarchy still preserved a dedicated off-day in their rigorous schedule. Ren let out a long, silent sigh of relief at the prospect of twenty-four hours of uninterrupted rest.

"Now, you are officially dismissed for the day," Corvina added, offering him a brief, encouraging nod. "Go back to your suite, get yourself showered, and head down to the dining hall to secure an early meal. Tomorrow will be an exceptionally long, exhausting day, and the very first time a rookie undergoes situational training is always the hardest part of the process. But trust me on this, Barrett, this specific class will be the most important lesson of your entire career here, especially if you eventually start successfully collecting more monsters into your unique vault."

She turned and marched back toward the faculty offices, leaving Ren to walk back to the dormitory block alone. As he made his way down the path, he secretly wished he could have just followed the standard lifestyle of the mages he worked with every morning—spending half the day sitting comfortably in a heated lecture hall discussing magical history and the other half casually practicing spell trajectories. But deep down, he knew that slacking off wasn't an actual option anymore, not since the administration had singled his arm mark out as a completely unique class.

The fleeting thought briefly entered his mind that, based on raw power output, he was currently technically one of the strongest first-year students in his entire intake block. But since he hadn't actually interacted with any of the other new students outside the misfit mages and Tyson's assistants, his skills could only be measured against seasoned second-year warriors, where even the lowest-ranked agility striker on the floor could easily take him apart in a real fight. Holding an elite title doesn't feel all that impressive when you were still at the absolute bottom of the institutional ladder.