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Fiends For Hire [Anti-Hero Action/Slice of Life] (4,500+ Pages)
V5: Chapter 13 - School Days: Vocational Studies | Part 1.3 - If You Can't Do, Teach

V5: Chapter 13 - School Days: Vocational Studies | Part 1.3 - If You Can't Do, Teach

“You can just call me Drim, or Slayer,” the instructor reintroduced himself brashly to the class. “I know my surname still makes some people uncomfortable when they say it, so don’t bother. You may also know me by other titles, but I won’t respond to them here. They’re irrelevant in this place and profession. A simple name is best, especially when you need to call out to them for help. Unimportant titles and courtesies only get in the way and slow you down. Remember that when you’re out in the field.”

“I do have two other introductions to make,” Drim pulled down his hood. He grabbed the koala fox that was clinging to the back of his head and placed him on the lectern. “This is Teaching Assistant Pox. He’ll be helping with the day-to-day tasks, and also assisting with proctoring exams.” Unlike the man, the small creature was actually dressed like a teacher, wearing a full suit, tie and all, with his fluffy tall billowing out of the back of his pants.

Drim then held up his hand, spawning a portal. Then a fairy-like plant girl burst forth from it and began gleefully flying around the room. “And this is Teaching Assistant/Student Drimini. I honestly don’t know what she plans to do, since I thought she was going to help me, but she wanted to wear the school uniform. Oh, I guess she’s going to be a student for now,” he accepted when she settled down and sat on one of the desks.

“So I suppose just treat her like any other student for now, at least until she gets bored of it. Oh, and please, do me a favor and call her outfit cute when you get a chance. She’ll get very upset otherwise. But with that out of the way, let’s head outside.”

“Erm, Sir, err, Slayer, what will we be doing there?” one of the students raised their hand and asked their question without waiting to be called upon.

“Fighting,” their new teacher gave a short answer and then pondered. “Well, I guess we could do it in here if you all don’t want to go outside. Move the desks around and… actually no, let’s stick with outside. It wouldn’t do to destroy the classroom on the very first day.”

“So get your weapons, and change your clothes if you want—whatever you’d normally use to fight. I don’t really know the campus well yet, so meet up where you’d normally do training or recreation outdoors, and I’ll find you.”

“But uhh, you two,” Drim pointed to two of the students who were off to the side. “Stick around for a moment. I have a question.”

The room cleared out quickly except for the pair that the instructor had mentioned, but it seemed they understood why they’d been singled out. That didn’t stop Drim from staring intensely at them though, especially the young man whose face he was desperately trying to place and remember. “Cleft Bland?”

“Kleff Brand,” the student corrected, pushing up his glasses, back against his red eyes of a Lesser Fiend.

“Right, sorry,” the teacher apologized. “But you were a student at Constead South High School, correct? You stood out. And you, miss…” Drim’s eyes drifted. “Sorry, I don’t believe I ever actually caught your name, but I recognize you as well.”

“I’m Jordi!” the instructor was hit with a blast of bubbliness that he wasn’t expecting. “And yes, we were there! Kleff and I were originally Xard’s classmates.”

Kleff then inquired, “Erm, he’s not around, is he?

“Uhh, no, he isn’t,” Drim had to disappoint him. “But I’m sure I could get him to stop by if you wanted to see him.”

“N-no, that’s quite alright,” the young man quickly turned down the offer. “I’d rather our paths not cross until I’m far more capable.”

“Hmm, a good mentality for a trainee to have,” The Slayer smirked. “But it begs the question of how the two of you ended up at a monster hunting academy. And as Lessers, no less.”

“Erk…” Jordi’s carefree attitude quickly dissolved away, replaced by uncertainty and anxiety at having to explain things. But she forced a smile again and spouted, “College is just a really crazy time. Right, Kleff?” the girl nudged her classmate.

“R-Right,” he repeated her non-answer. “A really crazy time.”

“Well, I suppose it’s none of my business,” Drim let them off. “But you also shouldn’t expect any special treatment just because we’ve met before. Thank you for indulging me. Now go join the others.”

◆◆◆

The students of the special class congregated out in the academy’s training field behind the school. It was surrounded by the track on all sides like any other educational institute for their physical education needs. But instead of being used for recreation or sports, the field was mostly used for drills and skirmishes.

A few of them had changed their outfits entirely, matching closer to what a traditional monster hunter would wear. Some had amped up the eccentricity and would fit perfectly among a group such as the For Hires. Maybe they were hoping to catch the eyes of and impress their new instructor. More had just put on padding to cover their vitals along with any weak joints. But some had just stuck with their uniform, either too overconfident or not really understanding what was about to happen.

All of them at least had some sort of weapon in their hands. It was a variety of real sharp and dangerous instruments of death mixed with blunt practice training tools that would just leave a good sized welt. For many, though, just by how they held them, it was obvious that they weren’t yet entirely comfortable with the weapons in their hands, needing both more practice and practical training before they could ever be trusted to slay monsters on their own.

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Maybe Drim wanted to impress them himself, or throw them off their guard, or maybe he just wanted to act a little eccentric and extra. But the man hadn’t walked out of the academy building like the students had been expecting, and it would have been exceedingly obvious since the group was all staring at the door, waiting for him.

Instead, he’d kept them waiting for a bit, observing them from the nearby tree line to monitor their behavior when they thought they weren’t being watched. A few were chatting and laughing, others were muttering and serious, but a good amount were decently relaxed, not too tense about the surprises that they day had thrown at them.

Already, they appeared more capable than the man had been dreading, half-expecting them to be complete novices that didn’t understand what they’d been volunteered for. But he probably should have been hopeful for more. Weathered Woods was a well-respected monster hunter academy after all, or it was now at least.

Proper academies for such a crude profession weren’t the most common, and many had opened and shut down over the decades. Rather, those looking to delve into the crazed world often attended special training facilities, closer to boot camp in the army than a school. But those were more appealing to already jaded adults who were wanting to jump start their career.

The academies mostly drew in the young, those who wanted to attend a trade school instead of a college. Or in the case of the two familiar faces earlier, had likely left traditional schooling due to extenuating circumstances and needed a new direction in life. And The Angler had turned around this particular academy, having bought it up when it was on the verge of shutting its doors and completely overhauled it, now making it the monster hunting school with the best reputation by far.

But that didn’t mean that the students were at an acceptable level, at least in The Slayer’s eyes. It didn’t matter what diploma or endorsements they’d earned. Even if they did receive ‘adequate and acceptable’ training according to the Monster Hunters Association—which Drim had always refused to join—it wouldn’t change statistics. Just by averages, assuming they all became hunters, a third of them would be dead within two years.

And that was what Drim was there to prevent. That was his real job. Not to help them graduate, not to jump start their careers, but to keep them alive. In that month, he’d impart as many of his skills as he could, infect them with his vast array of knowledge. They’d probably hate it, maybe despise him as a teacher, but his goal wasn’t to be liked. So it was time to begin their instruction properly.

The Slayer stealthily snuck up behind the crowd of students, not catching a single shred of attention from any of them. He then slipped through the crowd, brushing past them as they still stared listlessly at the door, waiting for his arrival.

“Dead!” the teacher announced as he made it to the head of the pack, stepping out in front of them, finally on their radar. “You’re all dead!” Then in unison, the group all winced as each had a single thorn pierce into the back of their necks. They then scrambled to remove the floral needle, getting a glimpse of their own blood embedded onto the tip.

“If I had pushed it just a bit further, or imbued it with poison, you all actually would be dead. I’ve heard Blowfrogs are actually pretty common around here, and it wouldn’t be surprising if you got stuck with something actually deadly. You should be on your guard at all times,” Drim then sighed. “Well, you’ve all failed the first test, but let’s move on.”

“Who wants to fight me first?”

Those few words caused the crowd to go unnaturally silent and still. Their idle movements ceased, not daring to make the slightest ruffle that would draw any attention. Some even went as far as to stifle their breath, trying to erase their presence, making decent use of training they’d received thus far. And the teacher had never seen a group of eyes so quickly dart away as if they were looking at anywhere else but him.

“Really? No one?” The Slayer was honestly astounded. “I figured at least one of you would have a self-inflated ego big enough to challenge me that I’d then have to put in their place, but I guess the school did a decent job of selecting the best candidates. I can understand your position, though. I am a seasoned veteran after all.”

The man unequipped the blades from his wrist and them stowed them behind his back, onto his quiver. He then raised his hands. “How about now? I’m unarmed and promise not to use any weapons at all during the fight.”

He managed to get a few more eyes looking at his direction because of the offer, or to at least confirm that he’d done what he said. But there were still no takers. “Okay, what if I promise not to attack you all directly. I’ll only use counters and exploit openings. That will give you all a fair chance to land a hit.”

As before, it softened the tension slightly, but none of them were confident enough yet to take the bait. “Respectfully, Drim, Sir,” one of them at least dared to open her mouth. “It doesn’t matter how you handicap yourself. You’re still a Fiend, and most of us are only Lessers. We don’t stand a chance.”

“Funny you should say that,” Drim could only chuckle. “Just yesterday, a Lesser beat me in a one-on-one duel. So it’s certainly possible. But I do understand your point. None of you are on his level, so maybe I should bring him by at some point to demonstrate just how strong you can be with dedication.”

“But that’s a task for another day,” the teacher then reached behind his back once more, pulling out two silver bands. They were similar to the bracers he wore for his weapons, but a lot thinner. The Slayer’s face immediately drained of color as his eyes dropped with exhaustion. His posture began to slouch as if the burden of existing was weighing a heavy toll on his body.

“These are strength draining cuffs,” Drim explained with a slower tongue, even the cadence of his words losing their energy. “More commonly called Fiend draining cuffs, though they also work on Lessers. They drain our energy and power to bring us down to roughly what we’d be if we were still human, and are so taxing that they essentially prevent us from using our Curses. I will be wearing these during the majority of my time here, so you don’t feel like a Fiend will always be there to swoop in and save you.”

“So what excuses do you have left? By the previous logic, you all are now at the advantage since the majority of you are Lessers. Or are you going to ask that I blind and deafen myself as well if you only feel confident enough to fight a defenseless man?”

“Maybe I should say that it doesn’t matter if you volunteer or not. You’ll all be doing this. It’s the best way for me to gauge your strengths and what you need to work on—to see it myself first hand. So wouldn’t it be best to go ahead and get it over with?”

“Or are you hoping to study the fights first so that you have the best chances? A solid strategy for hunters to study your prey. I can’t even condemn that. But… if no one volunteers. I’m just going to start picking on people…”

“Fine then. Sorry about this, but simply because I know your name, Kleff, you’re up first. Plus, you look like the type who wouldn’t let himself be so easily embarrassed in front of others. Come and give it your all.”

Reluctantly, the student accepted. He walked over to the marked ground that Drim had selected as their stage. Kleff pushed up his glasses once more and readied his weapons—the annoyance gone, only determination on his face.