Unsurprisingly the first combat class was filled. The swarm of students after getting the time table stayed together, myself and Fox included. A few kids opted to stay at the dorms but after a nasty Seraphim with mandibles the size of my forearm jumped out and dragged a kid under one of the beds everyone left quickly to different classes when the screams and sounds of wet munching became too much to bear.

The person at the front of the class was the teacher. She had her hair cut into a buzzcut and the most noticeable feature was the scars on her face. The med tank could have probably taken care of it but they could be optimized as so to leave scar tissue intact which meant they were purely for show. I couldn’t help but think it was a bit stupid, scars purely for appearance. They made you look more attention-seeking than tough, but I wouldn’t tell this woman that for fear of losing my own arms.

She looked younger than the Headmaster and I assumed she would be around twenty-five. She herself would have graduated three years ago considering all Slayer candidates join a Slayer school at eighteen and spend four years learning.

“Hello, kiddos. I am Europa and will be your combat instructor. A brief Q and A about myself, I like all the teachers at Marytdom graduated from this school. I’m not sure if you are aware but Maytrdom doesn’t hire outside of its own graduates. I teach combat, as students you will all be given the basic armour and weapons, but you will earn your upgrades and your scars. The combat class has three levels. The bottom where we are, is the armoury, there is to be no fighting in here unless fighting a Seraphim that has sneaked into one of your lockers. Speaking of, lockers have not yet been assigned. Till then you will sleep with your armour in bed with you and my advice. Always keep your weapons on you.”

One of the kids raised a hand.

“Yes?”

“When will lockers be assigned?”

“Oh, good question. When enough of you die. There is too much of you and not enough room right now.” The way she said it so nonchalantly terrified me. “Anyway, here is the armoury. The other two rooms are the sparring grounds and the shooting range. I will spend all of my time on the top floor on the sparring grounds overseeing the Einherjar duels.”

The Einherjar duels?

“In fact let’s get that sorted right now.” She pointed directly at me. “You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you. Come up here.”

Me and nine other kids came to the front of the class. Fox’s jealousy was apparent.

“These are the Einherjar, these students will get their own dorm large enough for their own team, they will be given more and better food, better personal facilities and be considered the best of the best. These students cannot turn down a fight in combat class and are forced to attend at least one every three days unless reasonably excused. They only have to do one fight, and then they can leave if they want. No weapons or armour, purely hand-to-hand. Any questions?”

“What’s to stop us from fighting one person and having them purposely take a dive to meet the requirement and then leave so we don’t lose our Einherjar status?” A large boy asked. Clearly a result of a night of too much drinking by the scientists.

All of us were the physical peaks of humanity and our genes were picked and chosen. For the sake of variety, the scientists change the sizes which sometimes the scientists get drunk and like to make their own changes for shits and giggles. All scientists had a genome to follow but made enough variety so when they harvested our sperm and eggs they wouldn’t get any deformities just in case some sneak through. The idea of making a huge Slayer sounded like a good idea when you are creating them for combat but realistically there was such a thing as too large. Too much food requirement, making specialised armour to fit and just a bigger target in general. Doesn’t matter how big you make humanity, to the large Seraphim that ar the size of buildings, us humans will always be ants. Better to be a small ant than a large ant when dealing with elephants.

“Good question boy.”

I heard the boy grumble under his breath that his name was Titan but even the goliath seemed to not want to earn the wraith of a real Slayer.

“As for it, there is nothing really stopping you from doing it. Get your one match done with then leave.” She continued. “But, if someone starts fighting you in a one-on-one before you make it past the threshold then that counts as a duel which you have to do. So if you are going to be a pussy I suggest you be a quick one.”

That was ridiculous. Being able to leave before someone jumped me would be insane. I’d need my own guards, I could feel all the stares looking at me right now. This was by far the largest class this room would ever have this year. We were all just struggling to fit, my only chance would that by accident someone wouldn’t realise I was getting my teeth punched in and join making the fight invalid.

Titan didn’t seem worried bravely going up towards the sparing level egar to get his fight out of the way as he was accompanied by a group of eight that walked in his shadow. His large size might be useless against the Seraphim but against each other, it would be near impossible to beat him in hand to hand. Soon after another Einherjar left with his own group of bodyguards, and another. It was quick that I realised that out of all the candidates I was the only person with only a pair as a group which made me the weakest. The easiest to fight.

Quickly Fox appeared at my side. His shoulders were thrown back and his head high but from so close I could see the way he chewed his cheek nervously that he knew we were screwed.

“You realise we aren’t getting those dorms right?” I whisper to him as we prepare to go up to the sparring rooms.

“We just need to win once. We fight, you take a dive and then we leave.” What?

“Why do you get to win?”

“Because why not? We both share the food and a private dorm. It’s not important who wins.”

“Then let me win.”

“No.”

I sat there brooding waiting for the elevator to take us up to the next level. There was also a stairwell for emergencies but the elevator would give us time to talk privately while the non-Einherjar groups talked amongst themselves trying to decide who they could pick off or who should get the new positions.

Before we could even enter the elevator a girl quickly snuck in with us. Her hair was bright blonde, almost platinum and tied in a crown braid and her face was more round than others.

“Hey, heard you losers arguing. Mind if I join?” She greeted smiling brightly. “Name’s Wasp.”

“Why would you want to join us?” Fox asked sceptically.

“Why wouldn’t I? The benefits of being an Einherjar are insane.” No, they weren’t. It was just a dorm and food. Good, yes. However, not exactly insane.

“What do you mean?” I asked raising a brow at her.

“Did you know about the EInherjar before coming here?” She asked to which both Fox and I shook our heads. “My preschool had a deal with Maytrydom. They send all kids there and so we get given about more information about it, including the Einherjar.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“What’s the big deal?” Asked Fox.

“The big deal is that the Einherjar’s positions don’t change after the second year.”

“They stay permanent?”

“No, they just can’t lose them. The Einherjar usually have the best groups, just the promise of a private dorm and food you don’t have to fight attracts the best Slayers. Suddenly the Einherjar is surronded by the best, then they win all the events where they hand out armour mods and ichor making them perform even better on later events. Finally just having disposable minions is just an insane benefit. They can get sleep fully unlike in the dorms where you always have to have one eye open, they are always full of food and can have their followers do any menial task like take notes in classes while they practice and don’t have to worry about fully fatiguing themselves as they will have the best protecting them.”

“Well I don’t think we can last that long, I’ll lose the Einherjar title immediately.” I scowled. It was a bit of a depressing thought but I knew my limitations, I wasn’t the best in the preschools and I doubt I would be here.

“I’ll lose to you straight away, then this guy,” She pointed to Fox. “Can get us out of there if you’re a little too tired. The kids down there don’t have solid groups yet. They won’t be able to lock you down into a one-on-one.”

“And you don’t want to be an Einherjar?” Fox narrowed his eyes at her and doubted why she was being so helpful.

“I just want to live. Being in the group of the Einherjar is the second best way to do that.” She smiled.

I had no real reason to say no. All her points made sense and she was being very helpful. Just her being with us made our numbers increase by fifty percent, but, the way she smiled didn’t quite sit right with me. Then again no person ever smiled so I guess it made sense none of us really knew how to do it right.

When we got into the sparring room the teacher was observing the others fight. Some of he kids were actually competing for the Einherjar title in their own groups establishing who would be the leader, other’s like Titan’s group just gave up allowing a singular person to be pinned down so they could save their energy for the fight out as more of the non-Einherjar groups sat near the elevator and stairs preparing to try take the title.

“Well come on.” Wasp ushered us over to our own little space. I was worried that the teacher wouldn’t notice us but when I looked over, her eyes were already on me. Creepy.

The two of us got into our basic combat stances. In the preschools we never fought seraphim, only eachother. Our preschools were locked on the top levels of New Brisbane away from the walls and protected by the array of anti-air turrets that could block out the sun if they all shot together. What we did do though is fight eachother, a lot. This wouldn’t be much of a fight though as I calmly approached her. This wouldn’t last long.

“Well come on.” Wasp ushered holding out an arm. “Flip me over and take me down.”

I walked over and reached towards her to flip her over my body and slam her into the floor but something was wrong. If she was prepared to lose why did her stance show otherwise, yes she held out her arm as a gift but it felt wrong.

It felt really wrong when instead of me grabbing her wrist she instead grabbed my fingers.

Crack.

I screamed in pain and fright instinctively kicking her in the stomach when I fell back clutching my now broken finger to my chest while she only stumbled a few steps back.

“What the fuck is your problem!” I yelled at her while my brain kicked in to dull the pain to a manageable level.

“Sorry.” Her smirk said otherwise. “It’s just that the only thing better than being on an Einherjar team is to be one yourself, and to be honest you seemed easy.”

She didn’t bother waiting immediately sending a flurry of elbows and knees at me. Ever since genetic modification the genetic strength gap between males and females became negligible as our bodies were designed to be inhumanly strong whilst keeping our bodies lean. The difference between the two was basically nonexistent as it wasn’t so much a male or female body as it was just a Slayer’s body. The only difference in strength between Slayers was luck.

While our genome was decided at birth to be the best there was always some variation. Some were better, some were worse at things but that was more of a luck of the draw. Had I had my good hand I might have won but as I blocked a knee to my groin with my left hand I realised that with my right hand a finger down it wasn’t looking good.

Wasp sent a kick to my head but I caught it with my busted hand sending a shock of pain through me that my brain quickly ignored dulling down my pain receptors. Without my full gasp though she ripped her leg out of my hand and sent her other foot into me easily breaking the bridge of my nose.

“You b-bitch!” I slurred through the blood that ran down my mouth.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” She shrugged charging at me again. I tried my best to defend myself but bit by bit she wore me down.

I fell to my knees grasping at my throat after a particularly viscous throat punch. I tried to hurl one last insult at her but struggled through the blood and injured windpipe. She spun on her back foot and her heel hit my temple so hard that I felt my brain rattle as I collapsed to the ground letting the blood from my mouth flow onto the mats.

Wasp particularly satisfied with the results walked away from my beaten body back towards the crowd that waited to ambush her.

“Well? Any of you want to run the gauntlet or would you rather join my team.” She bragged, she wouldn’t be able to win and she knew it. My blood on her fist said she was ready but the way her chest heaved and limped on one foot after I managed to get one knee in said otherwise.

No one moved towards her at first but then one did, not to fight her but stand by her side. Then another, and one more. Soon she had her own sizeable squad escort her out of the sparring rings leaving me a sad and pitiful sight before I blacked out. Cowards who would rather guarentee a spot then fight for their own benefit.

At least I wouldn’t have to see her ascension to the Einherjardom as the black that was slowly creeping from the side of my vision finally covered my full sight.

When my eyes fluttered open as I was greeted by a green, weightless world. Oh, a med tank. I took a few deep breaths from the mask that was strapped to my face so I wouldn’t drown in the liquid before going over my body. Everything felt fine except for my pride which was shattered into little bits that I would never fully get back. I drifted back letting the back of my head hit the tank shutting my eyes just taking a moment to fully regret how stupid I am. I can’t believe I trusted her. So clearly that was a bad idea.

I noticed a shadow against the glass. There was a kid in Slayer armour, the futuristic spartan helmet resting against the tank. Why? Did they just have second years protecting the first years’ hospital bay?

I held the button on the mask so that the machine would realise I wanted out and soon the liquid drained from the holes from the bottom. After all the liquid drained the tank opened allowing me to step out into the open air still fully naked. It seemed the noise of the tank draining awoke my guardian as the Slayer jumped to their feet.

“Hey?” I greeted a little intimidated.

“Hey.” The voice greeted through its speaker. I could recognise the voice but through the static of the armour but it was distorted and my head was still a little blurry after my nap.

After a few minutes of silence we soon both realised neither of us are going to continue the conversation, it was incredibly awkward.

“Can I help you?” I finally asked causing the Slayer to tilt their head in confusion.

“What? Oh!” The Slayer reached up to their helmet taking it off.

“Fox?”

“Yeah, pretty neat armour though. I also grabbed yours it’s by the tank.” True enough there was another set of armour. “I didn’t know the size but we look to cut from a similar genome, so I got the same size. Ignore the blood they all come from them, I think they de-modify the dead upper years' armour and reuse them.”

“You stayed with me?” I said a little bit too shocked.

“Well yeah, Seraphim love attacking the medbay, I had to kill this little bugger trying to get into your breathing tube.” Fox proudly held up the corpse of a small Seraphrim that had claws that would have cut open my throat and let me drown in my own blood.

“Thank you.” I say still a little shocked. I wouldn’t mention it but I thought for sure he would have abdonded me for Wasp the second she became Einherjar. I wanted to ask why he didn’t but he stuck with me and stayed with me while I was vulnerable. Maybe Wasp didn’t want him or maybe Fox actually did have some loyalty to him.

“It’s no worries, we gotta stick together.” He smiled, I couldn’t help but a small smile reach my own lips feeling for the first time a sense of comradery with someone. A small joy in what otherwise is hell.

“Of course.” I reached my hand up and the two of us clasped hands. Brothers. “What’s our next class?”

“History,” Fox whined.

“Skip it?”

“Fuck yes.”

Fox may have been a backstabber and an arse but he and I at least had the same mind. We both headed back to combat class, not so much for sparring but there were plenty of basic weapons that hung on the wall. If we were going to survive the Seraphim we needed to gear up.