Chapter 72: Combat Class

It took about a couple of minutes for the instructor to divide the students, leaving Warden with twenty-three students. Although close combatants were high in numbers among the students compared to any other class. After all, there were also plenty of combat instructors in close combatant classes.

"Now you'll form a pair and spar together," Warden announced. "You have sixty seconds to make your pairs."

Warden was delighted to have eleven pairs of boys and girls and a lone guy by the end of sixty seconds.

"You, come here," Warden called the blonde lone guy. "You'll spar with me. What is your name?"

"Dirk," the youth with blond hair and a handsome face said proudly, "Dirk Archer."

"Alright," Warden said. "Everyone will spar three times with their pair. Dirk, take notice of who performs well."

"Instructor," Dirk perked his eyebrows. "Aren't we supposed to spar?"

"Yes," Warden told the boy dismissively and turned to the eleven pairs of boys and girls. "And I forgot to mention, none of you are allowed to imbue your weapons with energy, but you are allowed to cheat as long as you keep all the injury within your vessels."

A thin girl with a sleek sword raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Arsela Quin," She introduced, bowing slightly. "Instructor, you're allowing us to imbue energy in our bodies, is that correct?"

"As long as it stays in your body," Warden confirmed. "Begin."

Rows of students positioned themselves at equidistant intervals and began sparring with various weapons. Warden found that most students chose someone of a similar class like a swordsman who went for a swordsman, spearman with a spearman, or heavy weapons with heavy weapons.

"You!" the guy's face paled along with the rest of them. "You don't know who my father is."

"Twenty laps," Warden said chillingly, making a little void energy spark his eyes in purple.

"I'm going," one of them said, swallowing a breath and began running. The rest of them followed, excluding the leading guy.

"You're not going to get away with this," the leading guy said. "My father can--"

"I have heard enough from you," Warden said. "Forty laps for you."

His aura now only took hold of the lone guy. Warden didn't forget to imbue the deadly intent into it, making the boy feel he was under the gaze of a predator.

His face was already wet with sweat, legs shaking to stand straight. Warden withheld just in time for the guy to not wet his pants as soon as his legs gave way.

"Forty laps," he said. "Make sure I see your face after you finish."

It was almost impossible for the guy to run forty laps in the remainder of the class unless his attributes were close to the Iron rank threshold, which he clearly did not. Warden inspected it was around forty for his physical powers, which would barely be enough to complete the forty laps without having a rest. The ground was pretty large, one lap was already close to eight kilometres.

The boy scrambled quickly as Warden instructed someone in the class to keep track of the number of laps they ran.

"Now for the rest of the pairs," Warden said. "Now you'll spar together against one another. I'll give you two minutes to rest and prepare."

His voice seemed to call them out of their stupor as Warden turned his attention to the lone boy.

"Now let's finish measuring you up as well," Warden said. "Come at me, don't hold back at all."

Dirk Archer swallowed a breath and nodded, unsheathing his blade.