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Beasts: Reborn
04 VIOLENT ACADEMIA

04 VIOLENT ACADEMIA

The kiss-ups at Beargrin's Blades were in fact correct. They knew what Claude was. Unfortunately it wasn't a fantastic revelation that he was the fiery magic cleanser of evil like Queen Bracken.

He was late. Just late….. and alone, despite the many clusters of students flocking together on the stone walkway. The thought of them made his chest tighten. How could they operate in such large groups? How could they so brazenly kiss and touch and yell amongst eachother?

He bit at his nerves in the form of his cracked nails.

Too socially anxious and awkward for even the upperclassmen of the Combat-Strategy Academy of The Angelos District. The failures. The ones who were projected to die in low-level combat due to late Rebirths or not awakening at all. For their scholarly years they drilled the same material every day until they lost interest. Until they started to barely show up— and when they did it was late.

Like Claude. Who also still hadn't experienced his own Rebirth.

The thought made his mouth dry and had him sprinting past the older students….

Like a weirdo.

Regardless, he entered the giant wood, stone and metal block of a school under the eyes of only a few guards and students. He wasn't known to draw attention.

Thanks to that notion, he was able to slip into first period with only a few eyes following his anxious movements.

The rest of the day flowed as per usual.

He coasted through the basic classes. The sciences of the outer world and inner Tangents. The mathematics that concerned combative strategy— predominately basic algebra, calculus and trigonometry. Anyone that passed that class with an a could be a leading cannoneer for the Military-Guild with ease. The students that weren't snoring loud enough to be stoned were keeping up by the skin of their teeth. It took the will of ten men for Claude not to read the latest chapter of Queen Bracken. He was almost at the climax.

By mid-day, classes were almost over and they'd just been let out of Signs and Signals Reading class.

As Claude walked the halls his mind ran like his legs should've in the morning. The walls were already restricting. Dull and brown— almost like an oversized cabin full of low quality fake wood slathered in polishes and slapped over with achievements and artwork. The floor was unswept and covered in stepped on gum and grass blades.

"I can't do this for the next five years…" Claude thought as a group of giggling upperclassmen blew past him playing catch with a braided leather ball.

As they faded behind the mass of students behind him, they crashed and burned somewhere. Loudly. But his mind was elsewhere.

He exited the long hallway they all walked and rounded a corner, stopping in front of a bit of artistry occupying a dead end portion of the school. To his left a janitors closet occupied the shadows. To his right, students flowed out of the hall and spread across the main floor loudly. Suffocatingly.

Claude took his time to eye the art. Both to escape the teenage horde and to….. fantasize.

No.

To hope. To plan. Really, anything that sounded less embarassing than fantasizing about a woman in leather tights.

She was so cool, though.

Claude let his eyes pivot and bounce around the picture of The Dominator, Newest Recruit of The Nine— New Gloria's premier Super-Guild. And already she was fifth strongest.

Her debut moment, captured forever in the old dusty artistry was a perfect example of her potential.

She was a giant of a woman from what he read. At eight feet tall, she towered over the Demon-Prince with her high heeled foot crushing his windpipe. Pressing his lacerated and broken body even further into his busted throne. Flames burned all around, buildings of unholy architecture collapsed. Demons lay slain in the thousands. In heaps. Only she remained with her horned helm and bladed whip made of an abyssal anaconda spine named Sub-Maker.

She was what this schools future for Claude wasn't.

She was growth— ascension, the new kid on the block, the statement maker. She was…. Well, she was her namesake.

The clouds outside danced across the sky and let the suns rays beam through the windows to his right. Students crude armor and sheathed weaponry sent reflections Claude's way, casting light on the artworks title.

"Pure Domination"

"Almost as much workout motivation as my nightmares…" Claude thought before licking his thumb and wiping the dust off the title.

The halls were less full.

Claude entered the main floor and made his way to cl—

Whoever hit him was sprinting. They had momentum that cleanly transferred to Claude and sent him sliding across the grimey tile floor with his books sliding out of his backpack.

His voice came like nails on a chalk-board feigning as kitchen utensils combing through honey, "Oh…. Afternoon, Grey."

Claude's jaw clenched as he pushed himself to his feet.

"So when do you grow out of the cliche bully phase, Sam….."

The boy held up a hand. "Do I look like Samuel?"

"You mean Samuel your twin brother? Yes, you look like your twin brother, Tai." Claude lied out of sheer urge to not be corrected by him.

He in fact, did not look like his brother. As much as they were twins, they occupied opposing spectrums of their shared features. Tai was the softer, lankier, even more feminine variant, of the two. He was taller than Claude by a few inches but thin as a string bean and pale as snowfall. His high cheekbones and defined features would've placed him at pretty most days. The women of the academy liked that. He knew it.

Somehow that was his least annoying quality…

Tai shook himself off suddenly and ran a hand through his spotless golden hair. It shuffled down the sides of his face in a perfect middle part. "Anyways, you're excused."

"You're an ass." Claude replied.

Tai shrugged, "Eh— tamed donkeys are usually relegated to use by the poor people of this world. Your hands probably wouldn't smell like dirt and onions if you had one working your fields."

Claude's cheeks warmed as he panicked that he still smelled like fish.

Tai smiled and struck a pose.. "My deductive skills have been honed over years around my fathers Detection Guild. Nothing escapes me."

Claude cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Dude…. That was corny."

Tai shrugged, "Art is subjective….. and hard to interpret by the uneducated."

"I'm going to throw up on your chest-plate." Claude thought to himself.

He couldn't even maintain anger with Tai. He'd never really spoken to him away from his brother— who usually reeled in his rampant classism and comedic arrogance. He understood why now.

There was nothing more to say, Claude turned away from Tai and began stuffing his books back in his backpack. He froze once and looked up to find Tai still waiting on him. Only now he was in front of him. The largest art piece of Ronin— Leader of The Nine, hung from the wall behind Tai. His father loomed over him like a supporting spirit. Like a god.

The dusty scratched art of The Dominator hung behind Claude in the shadows…

"What do you want?"

Tai crossed his arms and pointed, "You know… that's why I hit you today. And other days. You're always daydreaming and pondering. Not alert….."

"…. Are you trying to make a point here?" Claude stood up and didn't back away when Tai stepped forward. Even as the sheer price of his spotless expensively tailored knights armor became more clearly…. Expensive.

"Yes, I am. Daydreaming and reading fantasy books about magical queens and grass warriors is for children. Which fits... because when you face my brother Samuel today, you're going to be beat like a child. A disobedient child. And then you're going to cry in front of everyone again…. Like a child. And then we'll be Reborn. We'll become men, and you'll still be a runt." Tai sneered.

"Nevermind. I can stay angry at you." Claude thought.

Then he looked behind Tai.

"Oh shit—"

"What?" Tai inquired.

Claude pointed behind Tai, "Hall-guards are coming."

Tai casually turned around. Before he could even plant his foot, Claude's own booted foot was slamming into Tai's crotch like a hammer to fruit.

"GODS!" Tai gasped and hit the dirty floors like a beggar as he clutched his….. damaged manhood.

Suddenly footsteps were coming their way. But it wasn't guards. It was a group of upperclassmen covered in cuts and bruises. One of them carried a shredded leather ball.

The sight of Tai made them look to Claude.

Claude panicked— thinking they were bribed… or simply kiss ups looking to have the twins put a good word in to Ronin.

All they did was nod.

Claude returned the gesture and ran to class. Again, like a weirdo.

***

He reached the classroom a minute late. Students were still getting seated. Usually Claude already had his books out. This was his favorite class.

Creature Studies and Preparations.

"Claude Grey!" His teachers voice boomed like thunder.

Claude jumped as he reached for his seat at the front of the class.

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The students laughed.

"Yes, Mr. Raizen?" Claude felt his peripherals fade and his face heat up. Why did the class have to be so full?

"What's the point of waking up before the sun if you're going to be late to school? What's the point of being in school if you're going to be late to this class of all classes?" Mr. Raizen's face was as steely and hard as the katana sheathed at his hip.

Claude sighed in defeat, "…..uhm. There is no point. Mr. Raiz—"

"Wrong!"

Lightning struck from a clear sky in the distance. His table mates seated beside him trembled.

"The point is…. The lesson. And you will be forced to learn it with mortal accuracy soon if you do not find your discipline now." Mr. Raizen lectured.

Claude was silent.

"Have you found it?"

Claude nodded, "I think so, Mr Raizen."

Mr. Raizen pointed at Claude's seat. Claude took it.

Mr. Raizen turned away from the students and walked around his desk and green chalkboard. While doing so he threw his hands up and spun back around, "I mean, WHY can't you be more like your buddy, Samuel? He's punctual, respectful, hard working…. Came from nothing."

At the back of the classroom, Samuel grinned and continued staring at his Knights helm seated at his table. Ogling his reflection.

"I'm joking, obviously. None of you be like Samuel. Samuel is a bully."

"You're lying to your students Raizen." Samuel replied flatly. He didn't try to put on a show vocally the same way Tai did. He almost always sounded bored or angry. Or a weird blend of both.

"The implications of your response speaks louder than your literal words, boy." Mr. Raizen said as he wrote the days lesson on the chalkboard.

The class was always so silent when Samuel and Mr. Raizen bumped horns.

"Uh-huh….. but if I was a bully, wouldn't I be beating on my classmates and skipping class all day?" Samuel questioned as he leaned back and rested an arm on the empty seat next to him.

"No. You'd be going overkill in sparring matches and looking down on your future allies. You're not long for this world if you keep acting in these ways, you know? Samuel Leon, projected to be the next bundle of EXP!"

If anyone wanted to laugh, they stifled it.

"This world?" Samuel lifted his arm up from around the seat beside him and leaned forward, "You mean the one where ascension is paramount? Where humans are rewarded for selfishness and personal gain? Where levelers are the peak of the human condition? Sure.... Totally. I'm not a bully, Raizen. I'm a force of nature. As I tell everyone else, get out of the way— or try to endure it."

Mr. Raizen yawned, "You getting into philosophy, Samuel? Because I'm pretty sure you have to have lived experience for those kinds of topics…. Or at least read more material. Like your brother…. Who is also late. What a day."

Claude's table mates shifted in their seats.

"By the gods, man…. We're so cooked." Lucas threw his face into his hands. "He's gonna kill us in training today…"

"He kills us in training everyday….. I'm ready to protest, cause mean-mugs over here can't stop poking comically large and rich bears."

"Hey Warren." Claude whispered as he flipped through his Monster Compendium.

"Man— don't try to be buddy buddy with me. Last time me and Samuel sparred he broke my arm cause he thought me and you were friends." Warren replied, visually cringing at the memory as he pretended to write on his paper. His long fingered hands were somehow more calloused than Claude's.

"I think you ate another crop of trance-shroom. He broke your arm because you tried to block an armored roundhouse with no matching armor." Claude whispered a reply.

"You're still bringing that up? After three years? Sorry not all of us can grow up in forests watching heavy chested dryads bathe in the river, man!" Warren's dark skin gleamed with sweat and grease. His high-top of nappy hair was like a physical exclamation point to further express his heightened emotions.

"I think you're voicing your own fetish, bro….. isn't that like… illegal?" Lucas questioned. His eyes were invisible behind his long dirty blonde hair, but Claude could almost visualize how empty they were.

"Nymphs are the pretty ones. Dryads look scary." Claude replied as Mr Raizen continued to write on the board.

Warren shivered, "You would know that, wouldn't you, fish-fingers?"

Claude felt his stomach drop. "This is why I don't talk to people—"

"TAI! Welcome to class. I hope you don't think your father's status will stop me from failing you for tardiness." Mr Raizen yelled with open arms.

"Understood, sir." Tai grumbled and plopped down— carefully, next to his brother. He didn't bring up Claude's crotch kick. More than likely out of shame of admittance.

Claude suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him. And not the twins. Someone else. To his left. He knew that feeling well— the stare. It was a survival mechanism. A product of living in a forest instead of the city. Sometimes you really needed to feel stares because seeing them wasn't possible.

But it was possible in a classroom. Still, he didn't pursue it as Mr Raizen finished his writings on the chalk-board and turned to face the class.

It read, "Red-Woods Scale Infestation."

"Who can tell us what an Infested Area is?"

Claude wrote the answer on a spare sheet of paper. Lucas watched as he always did, waiting till Claude was finished to raise his hand.

"Lucas." Mr Raizen nodded to him.

"Heh…. Uhh, Infested Areas are like Tangents but on the outside."

Mr Raizen cringed. "How are you wrong AFTER CHEATING?!"

Lucas shivered as the lightning flashed closer.

"Explain further." He circled Lucas and Claude's table like a hawk on the hunt. Lucas stammered.

"He can't, Raizen. You bullied him into silence, I think." Samuel never looked up from his helmet.

"Any volunteers then?" Mr Raizen looked around the room.

"Infested Areas are what happens when generations of open Tangents allow monsters to bundle up and fester in the outside world…." Claude said after Mr Raizen stared at him for too long to ignore.

"Give us more. Our survival depends on it." Mr Raizen demanded.

"Uhm... Infested Areas usually take place around OldWorld structures and monuments…. Like skyscrapers or dead-cities full of materials Tangent-Born monsters can use to recreate their homes. But that's mostly for intelligent species."

"Like?" Mr Raizen continued to circle.

"Goblins!" Someone yelled.

"Yes!" Mr Raizen pointed in their direction, "More examples."

"Kobolds!"

"Orcs!"

"Elves….. not the wild-elves though, they're stupid."

"That's not what I read…. Anything that can tame Primals before adulthood can't be stupid, right?" Claude thought to himself.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Mr Raizen's thunderous exterior faded like clouds at the end of a storm. He was warm, animated, as he bounced around the room before returning to Claude's table.

"Since you were so eager to give us the rundown…. And be late to my class, tell us, if all of these species with intelligent minds are attracted to areas rich in materials and structural competency, where do the mindless animals go?"

Claude shrugged, "They go wherever. If they're not tamed by the more intelligent, they search for habitats most like the ones they came from…. Erhm, in the Tangents I mean."

"Everyone, that was your last bit of evidence. What are we facing in the Red-Woods Infested Area at the end of this week? Any takers?" Mr Raizen ran a hand through his salt and pepper shoulder length mane of hair.

"Samuel, why don't you stop giving yourself the sex eyes and tell us what you think."

Samuel looked up. His thick jaw flexing repeatedly as if he was imagining bashing the teachers face in before growing bored with the thought, "It doesn't matter what it is. I'll kill it like all the others."

"What if IT is impervious to mindless sword slashes?" Mr Raizen inquired.

"Then I'll make mindful ones, Raizen." Samuel looked back to his helmet as if it was some shrine to venerate the gods.

Mr Raizen sighed in disappointment, "Nepotism…. It really just breeds decadence, doesn't it?"

Samuel grunted in agreement as if he understood any of what Mr Raizen said.

Suddenly the teachers eyes were elsewhere. At the front of the class to Claude's right. "You look like you know, Xander."

"That's because I do, sir." Xander replied as he swept his long black hair behind his ear.

"Then by all means." Mr Raizen referred to the rest of the classroom.

"The red-woods is usually home to pretty high-level primals…. At least in relation to the rest of The Angelos District. So right off the bat we can write off earthen creatures like wolves and bears and wild-cats. They don't mix with their Tangent-Born ancestors all that well. My first guess would've been the thylacaleo's…." Xander looked around— seemingly satisfied with the classrooms confusion before continuing, "…Also known as the pouched lion. But I did some reading on seasonal flora reports in the area and saw no sign of them. The tree's bark w—"

"Holy shit, young man!" Mr Raizen slapped his hands against his navy military fatigues. "I didn't ask for a dissertation. Keep it brief. Efficiency is a weapon more important than any sword."

Xander stuck up his nose and nodded in understanding, "My apologies, everyone. Through rigorous outside research I've learned what awaits us in the red-woods is a pit of plated-snakes."

"That only took forty years….." Warren mumbled from beside Claude.

Mr Raizen nodded, "Well done. Now you know what to read up on for homework. If you die I'll know you didn't do it and I'll fail you posthumously."

"What's posthumously?" Luke questioned Warren.

"Dude…."

Mr Raizen rambled on about plated-snakes and important team-maneuvers to defeat them for the rest of the class.

Claude already knew the information. Hell, he already did the homework. More than a few times. Not to mention, he had lived experience. He'd ventured into the red-woods with his dad a number of times for work at the kennel. Wild-dogs had a tendency to be drawn to the massive carcasses.

He'd never seen a plated-snake on his visits, but he was well read.

Cousins of the black-flailers, plated-snakes were prehistoric hybrid relatives of rattlesnakes and titanoboa's. Part of a neo-genus of snakes called spica-cauda/barb-tails. Like the name suggests they came with a natural offensive kit beyond heavily muscled bodies and advanced sensory development. To add insult to injury, their backsides were coated in reinforced keratin scaling that birthed an armor as strong as steel.

They had a hell of a fight on their hands. But it was days away. And Claude had another battle much sooner.

Like sooner as in, in a few minutes.

Class didn't end. There was no new curriculum or teacher. It was all the same. Monster Studies flowed directly into Training. Kind of like life as a hero…

Like every day, they left the crappy stone and wood building in a hurry, filing out into the backyard. A dead grassy lot that ran for miles in all directions welcomed them. It's distant perimeters we're guarded by mid-bronze ranked heroes employed by the academy. As they ran their routes in pure boredom, they disappeared behind the massive structures of The Platform.

The sight of it always gave Claude a nervous excitement.

It was like a massive jungle gym. As the name stated, it was comprised of a series of platforms connected by polished wooden beams. If you wanted to go from one to the other, you had to have the balance of a cat. Sometimes that didn't matter though. Mr Raizen liked to jump up and punch the beams to make students fall.

The options were simple. Straightforward.

The closest platform to them was the weights section. It's where everyone went to warm up and strength-train. The whole thing was topped by a massive steel gazebo. Rings and pull up bars hung from the ceiling like crappy chandeliers.

Further into the platform, sections like obstacle courses, training dummies and stealth mazes loomed. It was all built in a circle that surrounded the pit.

Also known as the sparring zone. Students went to war in one on one's multiple times a week there.

This time, it was Claude and Samuel.

Same thing happened last week.

And the week before that.

"Mr Raizen's gotta hate him…" One of the students mumbled as Claude climbed the ladder to reach the weights.

He shrugged off the stares and distant voices as other students remained on the ground and focused on warming up.

Someone was already up on the weights with him. He didn't recognize the new guy. He was somewhat tall for their age at almost six feet and what had to be almost two hundred pounds. Plus his full black and leather knights armor, he was probably heavier. Even so, he squatted three plates like it was nothing.

"Three-hundred and fifteen pounds/one-hundred and forty-two kilograms? That's almost Samuel's max and he's the strongest squatter here…." Claude marveled.

The large knight racked the weight and turned around, looking at him casually. Then, he waved.

Claude looked behind himself— an idiotic move considering behind him was nothing but a ten foot drop. He turned back and waved. The knight casually walked over to the benchpress and got back to work.

Claude couldn't help but notice he walked weird for a guy.

Speaking of walking, Samuel stalked underneath the platform like a lion. He walked straight to the pit and planted himself directly in the center. From there he stared at his opponent until they entered the ring or dropped their eyes.

"I raise wolves. I'm not dropping a damn thing." Claude mumbled as he stretched his legs, all while holding Samuel's gaze.

Suspense was a dreadful feeling. His nerves often made him impatient, but not as impatient as Mr Raizen was.

"Alright let's go!" Mr Raizen clapped his hands with every word like he was at his wits end. He loved building urgency and anxiety in them all. Claude used to hate it, but he saw the obvious function in making your students learn to perform under pressure.

The students gathered after talking and training for twenty minutes.

Claude climbed down from The Platform and entered the pit.

Samuel continued to stare. So did he.

Sometimes he was thankful for Samuel's attempt at intimidation. It forced him to only address his opponent and avoid paying attention to the crowd around them. Stage fright be damned.

"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Mr Raizen said as everyone quieted.

The whole class agreed loudly while Mr Raizen walked the pits perimeter. Nothing more than a white chalk circle split down the middle to make their two sides. He pointed at it.

"You get knocked out of this circle, that is one point. Three points is a win. But, if you get knocked out once and stay down for three seconds you lose automatically. In that same vein, if you don't get knocked out but your injuries are too severe, you lose by my command. I'm here to teach efficiency not innate strength of will. You start the fight and end it as fast as you can. No holds bared. Whatever it takes."

"Excuse me, sir!"

Mr. Raizen looked up from Claude and Samuel, "What?"

"Ms. Callisto isn't here….." One of the students pointed out their missing healer.

"She'll be here. Or not." Mr Raizen looked back to Claude and Samuel, checking for fear. For hesitation. For any slip up just as they were with themselves.

"Samuel Leon, are you ready?"

Samuel rolled his shoulders. His expensive silver and gold knights armor jingled as he slid on his visored helm and unsheathed his Samurai sword, "Born ready, Raizen."

"Sure you are, jackass." Mr Raizen said before turning to look at the other side of the pit.

"Claude Grey, are you ready?"

Claude unsheathed his short-sword and adjusted his leather helmet of spartan design. It fit over his buzzed head like a glove as he dropped into his combat stance.

"I'm ready, let's go."

Mr Raizen held his hand up. Claude knew what was coming and tensed his legs anyway.

"3…..2– BEGIN!"

The sky flashed, and the battle had begun.