Chpt 9: Use disturbing kukukuku!

Roman and Basalin stood at the doors barring their entrance to their first Combat Class.

It was four days since both boys met and they went to the usual 'initiation' program. It was simply a hype show and how they had 'expectations' of the next generation of hunters.

Classes like math and history were simple enough. Roman took the simpler Workshop - Weapon Design - Dust Labs - and Senior Workshop path, meaning he wasn't in classes with the teen most of the time.

Basalin's schedule was Physical Education first period, Language Art second period, Social Studies third, Advanced fourth, Math fifth, Science sixth, and a Free Period where he worked on weapon ideas and homework on in seventh. On friday, he had half-periods which was more a 'check-in' day for most classes, or a asshole move to assign homework over the weekend.

Then at twelve they had Combat Class.

Basalin pushed the doors open, entering a arena. Stands were placed on the edges while a raised stone platform stood at the center. A few monitors were on various sight lines around the arena.

A surprisingly young women stood at the center with her scroll out, scanning the students who were posing, flexing, showing off weapons and generally being teens.

Roman had admitted to Basalin that he wasn't exactly trained for this school, and his father had 'save' (stole) enough money to send him here. He was a street rat who while had his no small share of street fights and beat downs, and felt he was outclass by those who were taught formally.

Basalin laughed in his face and straight up told the kid that street fighting already laid a foundation far superior to those that joined some fancy dojo or had martial training.

Roman, unsure of what the other boy was saying, asked him to explain.

And so he did.

Basalin stated that most martial arts were restrictive and followed a set of rules. In the ring, there were rules, in a duel, there were rules. Street fighting had no such rules, and so too did fighting giant death monsters. Need to buy time? Fling a nearby rock, stone, or brick at a Grimm or foe hard enough and earn your time. Desperately claw and scramble at eyes and sensitive areas to escape holds or pinches. Was it dirty? Yes. Would it likely save your life? Also, yes.

Fancy weapon shit, martial holds, and anatomy lessons on where hitting and poking people hurt could come later. What matter right now was a foundation and mindset that simply spoke 'I want to kill you, really fucking badly, and I'm gonna do it in a way that kills you either really slowly cause I'm a weak bitch, or really quickly cause your a weak bitch'.

Roman liked that mindset. He really, really liked that mindset.

A day ago, he'd bought Roman a pair of brass knuckles, made some professional grade pocket tear dust/pepper dust, and some garrote wire. A few hours of instruction on how to throw a punch, how to toss pocket sand without pocket sanding yourself, and how to strangle a bitch real good; Roman was now a fighter better than most in a few short hours. No fancy tricks other than 'DODGE!' and 'CLOSE THE DISTANCE OR GET STABBED AND SHOT'.

The arena wasn't even that big, so closing the distance was really the only thing the guy could do. His revolver was decent enough for ranged damage, and Roman had proven himself a good shot.

Both boys sat down, other nervous students stood out like sore thumbs, and the confidant and arrogant were hard to differentiate at this age.

Bas had his hands in his pockets, playing with metal balls that could pierce through half and inch of steel through aura enhancement and a good throw.

Roman was less confidant than his friend, but had a simple game plan that could adapt and grow. Besides, this was school and he was here to be taught. As long as he wasn't the weakest, then he was good.

"Everyone, please quiet down! Class shall be starting immediately." Stated the women.

"I am Azure Bronzewing, and am here to instruct you about combat of all means. From fighting the common criminal without aura, to combating the Grimm. Learning to fight elite Grimm will come when you enroll in Beacon or one of the other Academies." Several of the students grinned at the mention of Beacon.

"Now, do we have any starting questions." A few people raised their hands and asked basic things, like when are matches called and when we stop.

"On the screens above are meters. You will download the Aura Connect App, and connect your device to the screens, showing the class your current level of aura. Once it hits the red, you are out and combat will end." She said with a heavy meaning.

Basalin rose his hand. "Yes..." He stood.

"Basalin Chrome." He introduced, then asked his question, "Will dirty fighting be allowed?" He asked with a leasurly smile, his eyes glancing down to Roman who grinned back up at him.

"All forms of fighting are allowed, however, explosives are banned, as are any weapon that might damage the arena or permanently harm a fellow student." Basalin smiled his tongue lashed out, tasting the air. "Ah, wonderful." He sat back down, his tongue lashing out once more and he practically vibrated at he taste of fear.

"I-if that's all." The women was put off by her last student to say the least. Silence greeted her, and she moved on. "To begin with, we shall have a tournament to help me know where your experience and abilities lie. Don't be afraid of a low placement, I will be taking notes on each fight."

She brought up the bracket board. "Will the first bracket come onto the arena." Wouldn't you know it, Basalin and another kid.

He walked onto the stage leasurly, his foe already there, grinning down at him. He looked up and took her in. Female, athletic, petite body shape, silver grey hair, similar eyes, and pale skin. She wielded a flanged mace, something that made him smile.

"You like my mace? Think I can't swing it?" She asked, an annoyed and irate smile appearing on her face.

"On the contrary, my dear." One thing he liked about his new life, was his voice. Once puberty hit, damn if it didn't get silky smooth and seductive. "I find it refreshing for one to use such an intelligent weapon. Ah, the Grimm shall fear you if you stick to it. Their plates with shatter and pierce their flesh, their bones, brittle under your savage artistic strokes, the symphony!" He exclaimed. "Kukukukuku," His tongue vibrated in the open air. "It shall be wonderful. Now, let me help you develop it."

He nearly glared at the teacher to start the fight, merely staring unnervingly, making her shudder as she started counting; delaying the fight and making him glare harder.

"Start!"

His head snapped to the girl unnaturally and he moved. His feet and legs slammed against the stone, cracking it under his movements, before reaching the girl. Not able to stop his momentum, he leaped up slightly and struck down with one of his stilettos.

The girl's face was one of panic, and only changed into a sweeter expression of near despair as she felt his strength in a desperate block with her mace.

His momentum pushed her back, and his other hand drew his second blade, striking between the collar bone. The blade connected and he felt a moment of disappointment at her inability to dodge or defend. His knee then rose and in a snap kick he transmitted all his momentum and forward force into said kick.

Her head was suddenly snapped back as his foot slammed into her chin. He pulled back his blocked blade and used it as a point of connection with the ground, balancing on the tip of the needle-like blade.

The girl meanwhile was sent flying into the air and her neck almost broke if it weren't for Aura. Doing a back flip, she landed on her front, chin cracking against the stone, out cold.

The class was silent as they watched the freak handstand on his blade slowly lower his bendy body to the ground. His head was level with the point of contact with his blade, his feet and back bent until he slowly rose up and removed the blade from the stone. He walked over to the bench, sat next to Roman, and spoke to him. "I'm training your reaction speed, that was pathetic." Basalin knew he was strong, but to the point where they could barely react to his movements? Lame. He gave a glance to the teacher and pitted her. It must suck being so strong you can't beat your students into the ground until they learned. That's likely why she's having them beat each other! Sadly, Basalin is a freak.

Unknown to Basalin, his grandfather had mentally conditioned him to think of such as 'real supernatural training'. Carrow, Basalin's former life would look at his snake reincarnation and wonder how he'd lost so much common sense. The answer? His grandfather and his subtle manipulations for the young freak to develop into an even greater freak. One who did freaky things without even having to think about being freaky.

Roman nodded to his roommate, feeling like his friend had just removed a very weak and pathetic classmate who only got in based on connections, wealth, or luck.

He'd later learn that she was actually the strongest in the class beyond Basalin.