His day started early and long before the sun peaked above the tall mountains. After eating breakfast at the bustling dining hall, he decided a morning run to the Hunter-Class Cadet Barracks would be a nice warm up. As he entered a light run he went over what he remembered from his assignment.

  Including Sarah, there were a total of five cadets in the training program that had only started a little over a month ago. It would last for two years before they officially “graduated” so a month behind was nothing to worry about. The biggest problem would be getting Sarah up to speed during this. The other cadets would have gone through years of previous experience and family or faction supplied training.

  Already waiting outside the building when he arrived was Amara. Unlike the more casual encounters they had previously, she was stiff and professional. It was the same face she wore when he was under her care. After slowing his run to a jog he stood behind and to her right with nothing more than a shared nod in greeting.

  After a full minute of silence, she checked her watch and pulled a small device the size of her palm from her belt. It looked like a cone with a mana crystal at the base. Logan immediately covered his ears once he recognized the horn. The little device had the potential to make enough noise to make a freight train sound like a gym whistle. Knowing her, she was going to max it out.

  As expected, she activated it at full power. His bones trembled as the pain in his covered ears forced him to a knee. There was no doubt that every room in the small building shook from the blast. She had awoken him and his fellow cadets so many times before they all got in the habit of using the loudest alarm clocks they could find and setting them an additional twenty minutes early. His long-standing question to how she could use it and not hurt herself was answered when she nonchalantly pulled out a set of earplugs.

  “Are they still needing a wakeup call?” he grumbled after recovering.

  “No. Our new cadet on the other hand does.” He could hear the smirk in her voice.

  Over the next minute four beings rushed from the building and all but one stood at parade rest. He appraised them with a critical eye. A human that had the features of an undead standing with hanging arms and a hunch, an angel with white wings, a dark-skinned human with Egyptian features with the aura of a cursed being, and a young woman that looked completely human but had the aura of a demon.

  Logan felt the cadet’s glances as they all waited in silence. After almost a minute of waiting he started thinking of going in and dragging Sarah out. Just as he took a step forward she practically stumbled out still half conscious with a messy uniform and half-open eyes. Amara leveled her unapproving glare on the girl as she sloppily lined up beside the others. He could feel the nervous energy flowing off of her and noted the reactions of the other cadets. The angel and demon were unmoved, the infected human turned slightly, and the beast-cursed raised his lip in apparent disgust.

  After everyone had gathered, Amara addressed them. “Good morning cadets. As you should have noticed there are two new faces among us. Behind me is Mr. Alexander. He is replacing me as your melee combat instructor.” Although Logan was surprised he was taking over the entire melee portion, he didn’t let it show. That was quite the job and should thankfully take up a significant amount of his time. It’s not like he would do his hobby in the middle of nowhere mountains.

  She continued, “To your right is our new cadet, Sarah Jacobs. She is newly cursed and is under orders from the top to join this program.” There was surprise in the subtle actions of both the cursed and the demon, but no such reaction came from the other two.

  “That’s right, she’ll be joining us in much of our training while also going through orientation. I expect you to assist her if she needs help.” The Egyptian man’s lip once again raised in disgust. “Is there anything you would like to add, Cadet Bishara?”

  He schooled his features, “No Ma’am.”

  Logan made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

  “That’s what I thought. In recognition of our new additions I am switching things up today. While Cadet Jacobs is going through processing, Instructor Alexander will lead you through some melee drills.” He knew exactly what “drills” she spoke of and felt a small sense of excitement at being the tormentor, instead of the tormented.

  “That is all. Cadet Jacobs, with me.” She handed Logan a radio, turned on her heel and walked toward a nearby car. Sarah hesitated but followed.

  With Amara leaving all of the cadets’ attention was on him. He placed the radio on his waist and mustered up the best drill sergeant voice he could. “Listen up! I have over one hundred years of experience as a Guardian-class and seventy years as a Hunter-Class.” He once again watched for their reactions. The angel was indifferent, the demon was interested, the infected just tilted their head, and the cursed was almost looking down on him. He didn’t know how Amara hadn’t beaten the cockiness out of him yet.

  “I am Hunter-Class Rank four Logan Alexander.” When he revealed his rank, all their eyebrows rose in surprise. Even the prideful one dropped his previous attitude.

  “As Instructor Liakos just said, I am now in charge of all of your CQC training. This will include both armed and empty handed. My goal is that when things get up and personal you don’t choke and die like a dumbass. If any of you don’t give your all I’ll personally beat you till even the healers won’t be able to put you back together.”

  He smiled, “oh and don’t worry about missing out on the normal drills. I went through all the same training you have and have an excellent memory.” He saw the infected and the cursed flinch at that. “All of you follow me.” Logan said as he started for the large building next to the barracks.

  The cadets silently followed him to the gym. After stepping through the double doors. The space was a square with at least 50 meters per side and 20 meters tall. The center of the room was dominated by a spell circle carved directly into the floor and filled with mana crystal with a diameter of 30 meters with smaller sparring circles along the edges of the room. Across every wall and the ceiling was an immense collection of interconnected spell circles. He barely knew anything about enchanting but could barely follow the web’s flow to an origin point. The fact there was a computer console with three large screens wasn’t an insignificant help.

  He paused for a moment at the addition. The last time he was there, there wasn’t a computer. The spell array used to be controlled by a collection of dials that needed to be in a specific sequence to get the right result with a reference book multiple centimeters thick. That was the perfect example of why magitech was wonderful.

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  Along the next to the entrance was rack upon rack of weapons and shields. Practically every type of melee weapon ever made was included. Without hesitation Logan walked over to the sword section and picked up a Viking sword. He hefted the practice weapon to check the weight and balance. It was close to his own sword still snug to his back. It was acceptable if slightly unbalanced. The circles engraved on the blade connected to a mana crystal under his palm prevented any significant damage to any being hit while delivering an electric shock depending on how heavy the blow was. The only downside of the enchantment was that the circles required constant mana from the wielder and an extra price for any impact.

  “In recognition of my first day here we’re going to play a game,” said turning to the cadets. “The game is called beat your instructor or pay the price.”

  Logan entered the circle while the cadets waited outside. “The rules of the game are simple. Each of you will be given two turns to take me down. We fight till one side is unwilling to or unable to continue. This is a close-ranged combat exercise and as such no ranged spells or abilities are allowed. You can choose any training weapon you want including bare hands. Any questions?”

  The demon raised her hand and at his nod she asked, “do we get anything if we win?”

  Logan smirked. “Sure, if you win you get the rest of the day off. Anything else?”

  The cursed raised his hand but spoke before being acknowledged. “Will we be held responsible for any lasting injuries to you like we would with another cadet?”

  Logan’s opinion of the man lowered even further. “No, you won’t. Since you’re so confident, let's have you go first.”

  He nodded and retrieved a Khopesh and a buckler. As he positioned himself for a fight, Logan took a closer look at the man. He was somewhat above average height with Egyptian toned skin, defined muscles, and a bald head. He had The Eye of Horus tattooed across his left eye. Over his fatigues he wore white metal plate bracelets that started on his wrists and continued up to the middle of his forearms. The bracelets were covered in both gold and silver filigree depicting lines upon lines of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. He had no doubt that among those symbols were magic circles making the jewelry enchanted.

  They both dropped into a ready stance, Logan with his sword up and Cadet Bishara with his pointed out and the buckler forward. Logan refreshed his memory on what he knew about Khopesh and their relevant fighting style. The weapon itself was the length of a short sword and was unique in the arcing curve making it a combination of an axe and sword. The tip also had a moderately large backward-facing hook. The style relied on sweeping or chopping motions while maneuvering the hook to catch or disarm.

  Logan waited for the spoiled brat to make the first move. As he waited, he pushed internal energy to his senses and tried to get more info on what curse he was facing. The aura had an obvious connection to Egyptian mythology with undertones of darkness and chaos. With a cursory look though the mythological beasts he remembered, he landed on Apep. The serpent of darkness and enemy of Ra. Knowing that, Logan prepared for sinuous movements and possible use of venom.

  He didn’t have to wait long for his opponent to strike first. Cadet Bishara attacked with a sweeping chop which Logan brought up his sword to block. The blow was unusually heavy, meaning the cadet was already enhancing their muscles. Logan blocked the following attacks with this in mind. They were good but overconfident. He could see some of Amara’s lessons in his technique while also showing openings she wouldn’t allow. The closest comparison Logan could make was of a child from some old nobility who grew up fighting those afraid too afraid to really hurt him. His overconfidence and lack of defenses were critical openings. He made a mental note to talk to Amara for more information.

  The cadet attacked a few more times before trying to hook Logan’s sword away. With a smirk he let the sword go instead of letting it just be pulled aside or maneuvering it himself. He capitalized on the cadet’s brief moment of confusion and used his already empty hand to punch him directly in the face. He didn’t hold back and pushed energy into his arm for an even heavier blow. He felt the crunch of breaking cartilage as the cadet’s nose was crushed. It wasn’t anything a cursed being’s passive regeneration or one of their healers couldn’t restore.

  Cadet Bishara staggered back while raising his shield arm to his bleeding face. As he recovered, Logan nonchalantly retrieved his sword and waited.

  He lowered his arm and glared at Logan. “That was a dirty trick.”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “You should have learned by now that there is no such thing. If you’re stupid enough to leave your face open, you get a flat nose. You leave your groin open, you get broken eggs.” He heard the demon choke out a laugh. “That was your first try, you have one left.”

  The prideful man bared his teeth and shifted to his cursed form. A layer of scales covered his body from head to toe. His body retained most of his muscle mass but lengthened with his back and head leading down to a grown tail in one smooth track. From under his shirt to the underside of his chin was a cream-colored section in complete contrast to the dark black of his back. His face elongated into one long mouth with lines of razor-sharp teeth and two enormous fangs no doubt filled with deadly poison. His fingers also grew the all-too-common claws.

  He released a hiss and extended a wide hood in a weak scare tactic. Logan returned to his ready stance and remained in his human form. The only magical alteration he did was to push some more energy into his muscles and eyes to increase his strength and perception. The cadet launched forward with all the strength he could. He began another series of attacks. Every slash and hook was either dodged or deflected.

  Logan watched every strike and noted their weaknesses. Over and over, he let the cadet attack freely. He occasionally made a probing attack which were themselves deflected or blocked by the cadet’s sword or buckler. As he let himself be pushed back, he waited for the inevitable bite. Whenever he faced someone with an obvious natural attack, he knew that it would eventually be used. The exception to this rule would be those with any amount of self control, so it was only a matter of time. He just needed to wait for the opportunity. As Logan was getting bored, he let the cadet get a little too close. The cadet’s reptilian neck extended further than it should have. Without apparent thought he tried to bite down with extended fangs.

  The strike was too fast for humans to see let alone react to. Luckily, Logan wasn’t a human and with all the energy put into his eyes he was able to see the world more dynamically and time out his counterattack. With another smirk Logan once again used his off hand to attack. When he made the opening, he had already brought his left fist back and to his side. With a grunt he brought it up and landed an uppercut onto the cadet’s chin. With a sickening snap, the jaw closed with the extended fangs now buried into their chin and the very tips poking through the skin.

  Cadet Bishara reeled back and fell to his hands and knees, dropping his sword in the process. His mouth fell open as blood flowed from his open wounds. He began coughing and wheezing after apparently inhaling some of his blood. The cadets were in a state of stunned surprise.

  “Another lesson,” Logan said to the other cadets. “Never over-commit to an attack, especially one that can leave you critically open. If I had an off weapon, like a dagger or some weapon summon, I could have slit his throat or outright decapitated him. Even with advanced regeneration, which I doubt you have, there’s no coming back from that.” He looked down at his still recovering opponent. “That was your second try. Exit the circle and focus on recovery. You can do that much, right?” Instead of complaining or asking for a rematch as Logan had expected, he just nodded, collected his sword and exited the ring.

  With a nod of approval, he turned to the others. “Who’s next?”