Bond Master

Unarmed Combat Training (2)

A massive puff of dry dust erupted around his uniform as the remaining air was violently driven from his lungs. Ren lay on the hard-packed earth for a second, his chest heaving as he gasped for oxygen, but his stubborn foundry discipline kicked in before Tyson could close the distance. Gritting his teeth, Ren tucked his shoulder and rolled backward across the dirt, springing back up to his feet in a guarded stance, his heart pounding wildly against his ribs.

"Not bad at all, kid!" Instructor Tyson called out, lowering his hands and laughing heartily as he watched Ren dust off his black charcoal uniform. "Your form is completely unrefined, but your raw physical recovery is incredible. I've got a fantastic idea of how your body likes to move now. We are going to place you directly with our mixed martial arts group."

The old man walked over to the weapon racks, leaning against the timber posts. "Those traditional, upright stand-up fighters do exceptionally well when they're trading clean blows against human soldiers. But based on your natural instincts, Barrett, you are going to be far more effective in ugly bar brawls and nastier, chaotic fights against wild monsters. It might seem completely counterintuitive to a rookie, but with your enhanced elite speed and raw power, a heavy punch delivered directly to the skull can stun many lower-tier Common monsters. Furthermore, proper grappling and leverage skills can be easily adapted to keep a beast's claws and jaws away from your throat if a frontline collapses. Unarmed martial arts aren't designed to be your primary offensive tool out there—you have your ranged gauntlet magic for that. But if a fast monster manages to get past your perimeter and closes the distance, we are going to teach you exactly how to defend your life."

To a kid who had grown up watching earth mice and monstrous boars, the abstract concept of physically punching a high-tier magical beast directly in the face seemed like an absolutely terrifying idea. But as Ren thought about it, if the real-world options on a battlefield came down to physically striking a monster or being violently bitten to pieces, he supposed a heavy punch wasn't an awful alternative.

"Corvina, come over here and give us a hand," Tyson called out, gesturing toward the nearby stone training rings where several groups of first-year students were gathered. "Your student needs to learn the foundational basics of our mixed style immediately, and we currently have an odd headcount on the floor. Slide into the rotation."

Sergeant Rita Corvina looked momentarily annoyed, as if she had fully prepared to spend the afternoon sitting quietly on the benches watching the drills. But when her old mentor issued a direct command, her military discipline kicked in and she didn't resist. She unbuckled her formal uniform jacket, tossed it onto the benches, and stepped into the ring alongside Ren.

Ren quickly understood Tyson's reasoning; not many of the standard first-year student recruits in this block would have been a fair match for Ren anyway. Pitting them against a commoner rookie who had already received a massive, initial physical boost from an awakened-grade soul-bond would have just resulted in absolute bullying. Sparring directly with an Ascended-tier martial artist like Corvina was the only way to safely push his limits.

By the time the evening bells began to echo across the academy grounds, signaling the conclusion of the training day, Ren found himself dragging his feet back toward the central dining hall. He was completely exhausted, every single muscle group in his body was throbbing with a deep, persistent ache, and he was so incredibly sore he could barely walk a straight line.

However, as he slid into an empty wooden booth, he realized that the Memory Drop crystal Corvina had given him was working with absolute, flawless perfection. As he closed his eyes, his mind could recall every single one of the fifty distinct martial techniques, leverage holds, and defensive parries he had been shown that afternoon with crystalline clarity. He could visualize the exact placement of Tyson's heels and the precise angle of Corvina's elbows. After a few more weeks of brutal physical training, once his physical muscles adapted to remember the movements as pure muscle memory, he might finally be able to consider himself a trained amateur fighter.

Ren sat alone at the table for a few minutes, staring down at his plate, but he was soon joined by a small group of sweat-drenched boys from the mixed martial arts block who dropped their trays onto the wooden surface with collective groans of relief.

"Man, Barrett, you seriously won the absolute lottery with your awakening, didn't you?" one of the warrior boys greeted him, rubbing his sore shoulders as he leaned back against the booth. "It's only the very first week of the semester, but you're already so incredibly fast on the rings, and the administration even tossed you a personal trainer to guide your track."

Ren laughed quietly, shaking his head as he dug into his dinner. "I only got assigned a personal instructor because my arm marking was completely nonstandard and didn't match a single page in the introductory textbooks. The proctors had absolutely zero clue what sort of skill I was going to manifest. So, they tossed me to Sergeant Corvina, and the two of us are honestly just guessing our way through my development day by day. Most of you guys in this block should have received the traditional grappler or monk markings, right? The ones that look like an open hand or a heavy staff crossed over a fist?"

The small group of warrior recruits at the table nodded in unison, digging into their high-protein meals.

"Yeah, that's exactly what we got," the first boy admitted with a shrug. "Our starting skills are honestly complete crap compared to the elemental mages, but at least our marks were incredibly easy to awaken on the transport train. The booklet said all you need to do to initialize the class is punch something meaningful. I managed to accomplish that before I even got out of my bunk on the first morning. I gave a massive fist pump in celebration, accidentally smashed my knuckles straight into the iron storage shelf above my head, and that raw impact was enough to immediately awaken my mark."

"Plus, we get a massive load of extra starting stamina compared to the logistical classes," another warrior boy chimed in with a loud laugh, gesturing with his fork. "Even if our magic control is terrible, and we can't ever reach the most powerful vanguard ranks in the capital, we can at least build up our physiques enough to grow up to be popular with the ladies back home."

"Hey, it's definitely better than remaining a common laborer," a third student laughed, shaking his head. "But honestly, sitting around in those fancy heated lecture halls all day talking about abstract magic symbols like the mages do sounds like much more fun than working my butt off out here, learning repetitive martial arts forms and enduring body-strengthening drills."

"Are you crazy?" the second boy scoffed, poking his friend in the ribs. "Your head starts hurting the second the proctors ask you to perform basic foundry math during orientation. You would never survive a single hour as an elemental mage."

"It still has to be easier than getting beat up by Instructor Tyson every single day," the boy complained with a rueful grin, touching a dark bruise forming on his jaw. "I'm a lover, not a frontline fighter."

"We all know perfectly well you've never done any of that either," the group teased in unison, erupting into a wave of hearty laughter that echoed through the dining hall. "So you might as well learn how to fight properly!"

Ren smiled as he listened to their bantering, feeling the deep ache in his limbs begin to settle as he finished his meal. Surrounded by the casual chatter of his peers, he knew the road ahead would be grueling, but for the first time since leaving the foundries, the future felt entirely within his grasp.