Most people in the Riffy Cliffs—regardless of age or gender—had learned the basics of combat at some point in their lives.
It was considered mandatory knowledge.
In a place as dangerous as the Riffy Cliffs, beasts could attack the town at any time. When that happened, even civilians needed to know how to defend themselves long enough for the Protective Army to respond.
Because of this, basic combat knowledge was common.
That was why Hunting School lasted only seven days.
The young residents already understood the fundamentals of fighting. What they lacked was experience, discipline, and knowledge of how to apply those skills against the monsters lurking beyond the walls.
Which was why Instructor Bram had jumped straight into combat training.
He wanted to see what his students were capable of before teaching them anything further.
"There are twenty-one of you," Bram said as he stood in the center of the hall.
His arms were crossed, and his scarred face remained as stern as ever.
"So the sparring will not be a duel between two fighters."
The students exchanged puzzled glances.
"Instead," Bram continued, "you will fight in groups of seven."
The room was immediately filled with confused murmurs.
Seven people?
At once?
The instructor continued calmly.
"The sparring will occur in three batches. Each batch will enter the ring together."
He paused, watching the reactions of the students.
Many of them looked uneasy.
Some looked outright alarmed.
Bram nodded slightly.
"Yes. It will be chaotic."
He pointed toward the map again.
"Because that's my purpose."
His voice hardened.
"When you face beasts in the wild, they will not line up politely and take turns attacking you. You may find yourself surrounded by a pack of frost wolves, or cornered by multiple creatures at once."
He looked across the room.
"In such situations, you must learn to fight under pressure."
His gaze sharpened.
"You must learn to think while chaos surrounds you."
The murmuring stopped.
"That," Bram finished, "is why we are doing this."
---
Once the rules were explained, he began arranging the groups.
He handpicked each batch carefully.
Snow noticed something interesting as the names were called.
The instructor deliberately mixed different weapon types together.
Each batch contained a combination of heavy weapon users, light weapon users, and balanced fighters.
Snow himself was placed in the third batch, meaning he would fight last.
For now, he stood near the wall with the other students waiting for their turn.
Soon the first group stepped into the sparring ring.
Seven young hunters some boys, some girls.
They each held different training weapons: axes, spears, short swords, and even a wooden hammer.
Bram raised his hand.
"When I lower my hand…"
The students tensed.
"The match begins."
His hand dropped.
Immediately the ring erupted into chaos.
The seven fighters rushed forward.
Wooden weapons clashed loudly.
Some students attacked recklessly, swinging wildly at the nearest opponent.
Others tried to remain cautious, stepping back and observing.
But the chaotic nature of the fight made strategy difficult.
Attacks came from every direction.
A girl wielding a spear attempted to keep her distance, but two opponents rushed her at once, forcing her backward.
A boy with a heavy wooden hammer struggled to swing properly in the crowded space. The weapon was too large and heavy to use effectively in such tight quarters.
Another student tried to flank someone, only to be struck from behind.
Most of them clearly weren't used to fighting in such disorganized conditions.
Heavy weapon users struggled the most.
Their swings required space.
Space they didn't have.
Meanwhile, the light weapon users—those wielding daggers or short swords—seemed to have an advantage.
They moved faster.
Striking quickly before retreating.
Still, even they struggled to keep track of multiple threats at once.
Snow watched quietly from the sidelines.
Amid the chaos, one fighter stood out.
A boy taller than most of the others, nearly 1.80 meters in height, unusually tall for someone his age.
His hair was dark and slightly long, brushing against his neck and nearly reaching his shoulders.
Unlike the others, he wasn't panicking.
He held a long wooden spear, and his movements were calm.
Instead of charging recklessly, he allowed the others to clash first.
He moved lightly around the edges of the fight, letting his opponents exhaust themselves.
When someone overextended—
THWACK.
His spear struck their leg.
Another rushed him from the side—
He pivoted.
The spear shaft blocked the attack before pushing the opponent away.
Snow narrowed his eyes slightly.
The boy understood something the others didn't.
In a chaotic fight, patience was a weapon.
Soon, the number of fighters began to shrink.
One by one, students were forced out of the ring by solid hits.
Finally, only three remained.
The spear user.
A girl wielding dual short blades.
And a heavy hammer boy who had somehow managed to endure the chaos.
The hammer boy roared and rushed forward first.
The spear user sidestepped.
The hammer slammed into the ground.
Before the boy could recover—
THUD.
The spear shaft struck his ribs.
He stumbled out of the ring.
Now only two remained.
The spear user.
And the girl with the dual blades.
The girl moved quickly.
Faster than the others had been.
She darted forward, her blades aiming for the spear user's torso.
For a moment, it seemed like she might overwhelm him.
But the boy simply stepped back.
Then—
He swept his spear low.
The wooden shaft struck her ankle.
She lost her balance.
Before she could recover—
The spear tip pressed gently against her chest.
The ring fell silent.
Bram nodded.
"Winner."
The tall boy lowered his spear calmly.
Outside the ring, Snow watched him with quiet interest.
Then Bram's voice echoed through the hall.
"Second batch."
As soon as the instructor called for the second batch, the last boy in the ring knew it was his cue to leave.
The tall boy stepped out while the others slowly gathered themselves.
Some rubbed sore shoulders.
Others limped slightly after the blows they had taken.
Instructor Bram gave them no time to complain.
"Second batch," he barked again impatiently.
Seven more students stepped forward, gripping their training weapons tightly.
Snow watched quietly from the sidelines with the remaining students of the final group.
The second batch entered the ring with far more caution than the first.
They had already seen what happened to those who rushed in blindly.
This time, no one attacked immediately.
Instead, the seven students circled each other carefully.
Instructor Bram stood with his arms folded, observing every movement.
"Begin."
The moment he gave the signal, the tension snapped.
A boy wielding a heavy wooden axe lunged first, attempting to catch a nearby opponent off guard.
But the others had learned.
Two students immediately moved aside, leaving the attacker exposed.
A spear user thrust forward and struck the axe wielder in the ribs, forcing him to stumble backward.
At the same time, a girl with a short blade darted toward another distracted opponent.
The second match quickly turned chaotic as well, though the students fought more cautiously this time.
Snow leaned lightly against the wall as he observed.
His eyes moved calmly from one fighter to another.
Too tense…
Poor positioning…
That stance is unstable…
Edward had trained him since he was young.
Not professionally, perhaps—but enough for Snow to understand the basics of combat far better than most of the teenagers in the room.
He could already see several mistakes unfolding before they even happened.
In the ring, a tall boy with a wooden staff managed to hold his ground well.
The staff gave him both range and defensive capability.
But eventually the chaotic nature of the match caught up with him.
Two opponents attacked him at once.
He blocked one strike—
But the second opponent swept his legs from beneath him.
He fell backward out of the ring.
One by one, the fighters were eliminated.
Eventually, only two remained.
A stocky boy wielding a heavy wooden mace.
And a slim girl using a pair of daggers.
The mace user attempted to overpower her with brute force.
Each swing of the wooden weapon cut loudly through the air.
But the girl remained just outside his range, circling him like a predator.
Then she moved.
She slipped past one of his wide swings and struck the back of his knee with the flat of her blade.
The boy lost his balance.
Before he could recover—
Her dagger stopped just inches from his throat.
"Winner," Bram said calmly.
The girl stepped back and exited the ring.
Now all eyes shifted toward the remaining students.
The third batch.
Snow's batch.
Instructor Bram looked toward them.
"Your turn."
Seven students stepped forward.
Snow followed them quietly.
As they entered the ring, Snow rolled his shoulders slightly and loosened his grip on the wooden short sword.
Instructor Bram watched the group carefully.
His sharp gaze lingered briefly on Snow before moving away.
The seven students slowly spread out across the sparring ring.
Snow positioned himself slightly toward the edge.
His eyes calmly scanned the others.
Two spear users.
One axe.
One hammer.
Another short sword user.
And a girl holding a curved blade.
A messy group, Snow thought.
Instructor Bram raised his hand.
The tension in the room thickened.
Many of the watching students leaned forward slightly.
Even the winners of the previous rounds were watching closely now.
Bram's hand dropped.
"Begin."
For a split second—
No one moved.
Then suddenly—
Two of the students rushed Snow at the same time.
The axe boy swung downward.
The spear user thrust forward.
Snow's eyes sharpened.
His body moved instinctively.
He stepped sideways.
The axe slammed into empty air.
At the same time, Snow lifted his short sword and redirected the spear with a quick deflection.
The spear was empowered with qi, and the force behind it made Snow stumble as he deflected the attack.
He managed to parry the strike, but it left him in a vulnerable position.
Damn it… I forgot they could use qi—
He didn't get to finish the thought.
A wooden axe and a hammer were already rushing toward him.
Snow quickly repositioned himself.
He dodged the hammer—
But allowed the axe to strike his shoulder.
The blow was powerful and nearly made him drop his short sword.
Still, he recovered quickly.
By now, the fight had turned chaotic.
Snow attacked the first person he saw on instinct.
His wooden blade struck a girl wielding a spear.
The hit landed on her wrist, causing her weapon to drop.
A second strike followed instantly.
THUD.
The spear user stumbled backward out of the ring.
But just as Snow prepared to move again—
A heavy blow struck his ribs, instantly knocking the air out of him.
Before he could even register the attack—
Another strike hit his stomach.
The impact lifted him off his feet—
And sent him flying out of the ring.