“Failed again, Kleff,” Drim pulled his blade from the student’s neck and stepped away from his bed.
“The hell?” Kleff sat up and turned on the light after slowing his breathing, then reached for his glasses. “What are you doing in my room?!”
“Testing you. That should be obvious,” the teacher slightly mocked him. “It’s a test of your instincts and danger-sense. Monsters and bandits don’t care if you’re sleeping. In fact, if they’re smart enough, they’ll recognize that as the ideal time to strike.”
“So what, you just broke into my room and attacked me out of nowhere?!” the student was a little less aggravated, but still overall annoyed and trying to fully understand the situation.
“Well, I stalked you for a while too,” The Slayer openly admitted. “Wanted to see if you’d notice my presence. Though, I doubt I’ll do that for the rest, or this long night will get even longer.”
“So I was the first one again?” Kleff deduced. “Have I done something to you that you feel the need to pick on me more than the rest?”
“No,” Drim shook his head. “Your room was just the first one in the hall.”
“Alright, that’s fair,” the groggy man had to admit. “And wait, so you’re going to do this to everyone else, right? Does that mean you’ll be breaking into the girls' rooms too?”
“Yup, monsters don’t care about such standards, so I can’t allow myself to either,” the teacher answered without a hint of shame to be found. “If you’re so worried that I’ll do something out of line—besides attacking you all in your sleep—you can come along and make sure I behave. Could use the help anyways.”
The night stalker then chucked a clipboard over to the boy who was slipping out of bed. It contained a class roster with the only other writing on it being a hastily scribbled ‘failed’ next to Kleff’s name. “I was going to have Drimini do it, but she snuggled up to Pox and they both passed out right away.”
“All you have to do is mark someone as passed or failed. And since you’re familiar with this place, you can show me to everyone’s rooms since they’re scattered around the building. Oh, and keep an eye out for the camera to make sure it doesn’t bump into anything?”
“Camera?” the student looked around, frowning when he found the floating orb in the corner that had undoubtedly recorded him asleep and also caught his failure. “I should have known, I suppose, with how much of your lives are broadcast on Fiend TV. Let me guess, you recorded the earlier matches too.”
“Of course,” The Slayer acknowledged. “It’s easier to provide feedback when you have clear reference material to demonstrate your point.”
Kleff had no further comments, so the pair left his room and began prowling down the halls. Unlike most other educational institutions, the dorms weren’t separated by gender—assigned entirely randomly. Originally, it had followed the norm, but after The Angler took over, he abolished the rule.
The thought was that the students should get used to a lack of privacy when out in the field. There weren’t gender-exclusive housing or bathrooms in the middle of forests or caves. That, and such rules never really stopped anything promiscuous from happening in the first place. The young and stupid would always find a way. But in the case of this school, thin walls and close proximities to weapons did more to hamper bad behavior than anything else.
But that didn’t prevent Drim and his new tag-a-long to find some of the students of their class bunking with others. Some were also in the same class, but most had absolutely nothing to do with it. None of it stopped Drim from borderline physically assaulting them in their sleep. Sometimes he just had to use two blades instead of one. And even with a second set of ears, the majority of the students failed the surprise test.
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“No, she’s never going to wake up,” Kleff stepped forward and flipped on the light in Jordi’s room after Drim had his blade pressed into her neck for at least a solid minute. “Nothing will wake her short of a bomb going off.” To demonstrate his point, the man set his phone to max volume and blared an alarm in the girl’s ear. It did get a very minor reaction as if she was going to wake up, but she just rolled over and went back to snoring. “I’ll go ahead and mark her down as an always fail.”
But not every room-invasion was a total failure. A few students managed to wake and dodge out of the way of Drim’s restrained strike. Some tried to yell, but the teacher would cover their mouths to not wake the entire hall. And when The Slayer tried to ambush Wricker, the human’s dangling hand grabbed the axe underneath his bed and sliced back, slamming his blade into the wall—property damage that the teacher would later volunteer to cover.
“Wait a second,” Drim stopped Kleff outside of Hagath’s door. “Go ahead and mark her down as passed, but we’ll give her a special lesson. Countdown from 50 and then enter her room like normal.” Without further information, the teacher dashed away and out of sight.
Kleff’s danger-sense was actually tingling now, and he debated going through with The Slayer’s scheme. But the man was still his instructor, so the student had a hard time going against what he considered to be one of the highest authorities. So right on schedule, he opened the door and stepped inside.
But not two steps into the room, he found himself slammed into the wall by a shield, pinning him into place. And then a second later, the second blade of the night was pressed against his throat. This time it was Hagath’s sword.
Kleff did his best to maintain his composure, trying to think of an excuse, but the situation didn’t last for long. A moment later, the woman’s fourth-floor window slid open and Drim swung through it, catching the girl off-guard and tackling her. He then disarmed her in no time, and now had her pinned.
After the teacher’s helper turned on the light, that was when both men got an eyeful. Apparently Hagath slept in a rather revealing negligee and had made no attempt to cover herself when she felt she was in danger. While it was the correct choice, it led to a far more embarrassing situation. But the woman wasn’t mad after the situation was explained, and even went as far to thank the teacher for the additional lesson.
There were only a few more ambushes left after that, all failures, and Kleff was eventually allowed to return to bed. But he had a hard time sleeping, still experiencing a slight bit of adrenaline from having his life threatened. What really kept him up, though, was all the new information he’d learned about his fellow students that he wished would have remained secret.
At least he wasn’t the only one who had to go through the gauntlet of it, since the very next morning it was all laid bare.
On the second morning of Drim’s month-long teaching venture, they actually stayed in the classroom for the entire first half of the day. He spent the session reviewing data from the day before. Which meant he was showcasing everyone’s failures.
It was all encompassing: the matches with their teacher, the spars with their peers, and their vulnerable states when attacked at night. Those who were reviewed first almost certainly felt picked on and bullied by their instructor—having all their flaws and shortcomings picked apart in front of the class.
But everyone was included in the breakdown without exception, so the embarrassment was passed from person to person, quickly becoming a shared experience which vastly lessened its impact as a whole. The Slayer was at least courteous enough to blur out the faces of any students who weren’t in the class that were caught canoodling in bed with another. But when they were both participants, they weren’t so lucky, since the photo of their failures would make it obvious.
The lesson wasn’t all about shaming the students, however. For each one, Drim gave specific guidance on what they needed to improve. The hope was by making the information open to all was that they could understand each other's weaknesses which would only further their improvement. Knowing where their teammates were slacking could lead to better composition, and the students could help mentor each other if they felt so inclined.
After that morning of hammerings, they breaked for lunch, and then the class found themselves back outside. “Alright, today we’ll be slaying a monster, but in a controlled setting,” Drim pointed to the rack of blunt practice weapons and then the cans stacked next to it. “Take whatever you want, coat them, and then…” The instructor’s finger wandered, pointing to Teaching Assistant Pox who was standing off on his own. “‘Slay’ that monster.”