Sick fuck!

"You, there," ordered Instructor Gamal, "And you, right there," he added as he moved his finger around.

He was assorting each student into one of the many grids paved on the flattened white ground, and when he was done, he shouted, "You'll begin sparring when I whistle."

"And just so you know, If somebody is injured, or has stumbled out of the grid, then they're no longer sparring." He added gravely as he glanced at the students.

"Anyone who doesn't follow these rules will be severely punished."

After dishing out his warnings, Instructor Gamal raised two fingers which he put in his mouth.

He put each finger respectively on the inside of each cheek, where in the next second he blew, creating a loud whistling sound that echoed throughout the interior of the training room.

As the whistling traveled to the students' ears, their pupils contracted as they began releasing their abilities towards their sparring partners.

Some leapt towards their opponents, some defended, and a few panicked as they haphazardly shot out their abilities— hoping to hit something, if anything.

In seconds, the pensive atmosphere from before turned violent as the only sound that reverberated throughout the training room's walls was the sound of abilities clashing against one another.

Although, there was one grid where no noise was heard. In it, stood none other then Lachlan.

He was facing a short-trimmed, tall student that had glistening eyes emanating cruelty.

After using appraisal on him, he discovered the student was a level 2 ability-wielder with an ability called ‹Weapon Summoning›.

The student got on one knee, and put his hand on the ground, where shortly after, a spinning circle appeared on the floor under it, looking elegant and white— with archaic runes imparted on it.

The student pulled out a long, blunt sword from the elegant circle that looked very ornamental, with iridescent, crystalline jewels instilled on its hilt.

From the looks of its bluntness, the sword was obviously not made to kill, but to hurt, making it an apt sword to use against Lachlan.

The reason why the student hadn't summoned a regular weapon was because he had underestimated Lachlan, who was supposed to be a cripple— and also because he knew Lachlan would die if he took a hit from a real sword head-on.

After all, he couldn't defend himself, as he had no ability.

And as much as he wanted to kill Lachlan with a sharp sword, Instructor Gamal, who was off to the side, eyed the grid extensively, making sure no foul play occurred.

Knowing he couldn't kill Lachlan, the student felt downcast and cursed his fate.

But even so, he'd still enjoy injuring Lachlan to the furthest he could with the sword he wielded.

"You ready for this?" asked the short-trimmed student mockingly as he started strutting towards Lachlan with a wide grin ear to ear.

He raised his sheening blade and licked it, his tongue traveling along the edge.

When Lachlan saw the blade getting defiled, he couldn't help but cough lightly and glance away.

"What kind of sick fuck does that?" he thought, his mind not coming to terms with it.

He didn't let his mind wander on it though, as it was preoccupied with something more important.

His mission, which was to be sent to the infirmary.

He wanted to be sent there straight away, but he didn't feel like the student in front of him would be able to put him there. After all, he was only a level 2, and him swinging his sword with all his strength wouldn't break his bones; at most, it would only fracture some and squelch flesh.

He needed someone strong, someone who could firmly put him in the infirmary with one hit.

Before, the student in front of him would definitely be enough to put him in the infirmary, but now, when he had the body of a level 3 ability-wielder, where his bones were reinforced and his muscles strengthened— the blade definitely wouldn't cut it.

Amid his thoughts, the strutting student who was only a few meters away leapt into the air as he raised the ornamental sword in his hands.

As he descended, the sword came crashing down, cutting through the air as it aimed right for Lachlan's shoulder.

An evil grin flashed across the student's face, and when the blade finally hit Lachlan, he was flung from the grid like a missile.

He sailed through the sky, and bounced on the white ground till he finally came to a stop a couple of meters away— a bit like the pebble from before.

"--cough --cough" could be heard from Lachlan, followed by a heave of pants.

When Instructor Gamal saw Lachlan fly out from the grid, he wasn't surprised, he already had a medicinal pill ready in his hand, but when he walked up to Lachlan and expected to see him all bloodied and bruised, possibly even with a couple of broken bones, he was met with a pleasant shock.

Lachlan had no blood blemishing his uniform, and his bones looked perfectly intact.

It was almost like he hadn't been hit by the blade at all!

He eventually stood up and dusted off his clothes, a faint smile gracing his face.

"That was a close one," grinned Lachlan sheepishly as he looked at Instructor Gamal.

Just as Instructor Gamal was about to ask Lachlan, "How?"

A student from an adjacent grid suddenly screamed, putting his attention elsewhere.

When Gamal looked over, he could see a student with his arm torn off, with blood rushing out from the wound, painting the immaculate white ground crimson.

Gamal ran over with a neutral expression on his face, which was a stark contrast to the rest of the students who saw the bloodbath, having worried and frightened expressions on their faces.

The reason why Gamal wasn't panicked was that he had seen worse— and expected worse. After all, military academies were supposed to be violent, and a severed arm was truly nothing major. Lives were sometimes lost in spars, so seeing the severed arm was nothing more then a flesh wound in Gamal's eyes.

Once Gamal was in front of the student, the glowing medicinal pill he held in his hand that was meant for Lachlan, was used on the hurt student instead.

He put it in the student's mouth, and after he swallowed it, the copious blood that dripped from his wound came to an abrupt stop.

"Go to the infirmary," ordered Gamal, "You'll be excused for today."

He then proceeded in wrapping up the student's severed arm in a grayish cloth and added, "And don't forget to hurry, the arm won't be able to get reattached after an hour or two."

The student, who was silently sobbing, nodded and held the severed arm wrapped in a cloth with his other hand.

Knowing his arm could get reattached, the student no longer looked destitute, but still silently sobbed from the pain.

Even Lachlan was pleasantly surprised.

He knew arms and other limbs could get reattached as he had learned so from school, but he also knew a powerful healer was necessary for it to happen.

From his school and where he lived, such a healer didn't exist.

The surprise didn't last long on him though, as he figured it was normal for a military academy to have such a powerful healer.

In the grid, where Lachlan had previously been shot out from like a missile, stood the ‹Weapon Summoning› student, wide eyed, staring at Lachlan in disbelief.

He hadn't batted an eye towards the student with the severed arm, his full attention towards Lachlan.

When he felt his sword connect to Lachlan's shoulder, he felt a slight resistance at first, but soon afterwards, wrote it off as nothing more then air resistance as he saw Lachlan sail through the air, indicating he had been hit cleanly.

He couldn't stop grinning when he saw Lachlan fly.

But afterwards, his grin dropped and his face froze.

Lachlan rose from the ground, seemingly uninjured, with not even a drop of blood staining his clothes.

He had used his full power in that strike, and even if the person on the receiving end was a level 2 ability-wielder, he would be injured— even if it was from the ornamental sword!

"How! How is he uninjured!?" thought the student.

He wanted to confront Lachlan, but before he could, Gamal, who had ushered the injured student out, began re assorting the students based on their performance— leaving him no chance to do so.

All he could do was clench his teeth and follow Gamal's orders.

He was pitted against another level 2, while Lachlan was put against the student who had severed the previous student's arm.

When Lachlan saw who it was, he could tell it was the girl who had thrown the pebble at him from before.