“What did you think about the team styles?”

Argent asked, causing Gauge to look over Seren’s shoulders as the dragonkin girl dragged them along towards the proving grounds; Shizuka, Remelia, and Matthias following in their wake.

“Wha? Oh, you mean like from the lecture?”

Argent nodded. As was expected from Instructor Balthazar, the lecture had been thoroughly in-depth, starting from basic theory and building up to more advanced applications. Initially it had covered adventuring groups and their usual sizes; commonly referred to as teams, parties, and squads.

Generally speaking, a team consisted of two members– and thus could also be referred to as a duo– whilst a party required a minimum of four members, but could go as high as eight; And a squad was twelve members deep.

Anything much beyond that scope bordered on becoming a military or mercenary matter, and considerations would have to be made towards either forming or joining a recognized guild, or otherwise procuring paramilitary licensing and contracts to operate within a kingdom’s territories. As such, a single squad was commonly considered the largest size acceptable for a freelance adventuring group.

Once initial size was established, next came the consideration of an internal or external leader. Meaning that either a member of the group’s body could serve as the leader, or, a specific leader could be attached to the group; Effectively bringing maximum squad size to a full bodied thirteen if this method was employed.

While internal leadership was acknowledged as the most common method, Instructor Balthazar recommended the external approach during his lecture. This preference was based upon a belief that a distinct leader separate from the general body of the group was beneficial for purposes of clarity, morale, and concise command; while remaining on the ‘outside’ enabled the leader to have the final say on any matters upon which a group might be divided.

Once this was determined, then came the variants in leadership theory, and it was this aspect of team composition that Argent was specifically aiming his question towards. There was, of course, the ‘biggest and strongest’ leadership approach, in which the leader was a powerful fighter who led from the front and controlled the flow of battle with his own two hands. Some of the students were forced to suppress their laughter when Instructor Balthazar instinctively, and rather disparagingly, referred to this as the ‘Big Dick Method’. Clearing his throat at the giggling, their Instructor held his composure and corrected himself quickly after the slip, labeling it properly as the ‘Striker Method’... But it was clear that he was not a proponent for that school of thought.

Next was what he referred to as the ‘Overwatch Method’, where the leader kept to the rear of the group and served in a spellcasting or otherwise ranged capacity. This provided advantages in security and command ability, while making it less likely that the leader would become compromised. The method could backfire, however, in certain circumstances where the opposition consisted of humanoid or demi-humanoid enemies. In other words, enemies with enough intelligence to utilize battle tactics. While monsters and beasts typically attacked whatever was nearest, easiest, or most annoying; More sentient enemies knew that targeting soft targets in the backline was a critical strategy. This could put a party in a tight spot if an ambush or assassination tactic was used as the opener to an engagement and their leader was picked off.

Finally came what Instructor Balthazar had called the ‘Flex Method’, though he noted that in some circles it was also accepted as the ‘Guardian Method’. This tactic focused on using the leader as a jack of all trades, typically an off-tank or support oriented profession, who could subsist in the center of a battle and cover many roles at once. Doing so enabled them an immediate view of any relevant shifts in the landscape of battle and provided a first-person perspective directly on the action without being knee-deep in enemy guts.

Of course, the grizzled combat instructor had been clear that these methodologies were not by any means final– acknowledging that many individualized tactics and modified versions were widely employed– but he seemed quite adamant that something directly modeled after these three formats was the most likely to succeed. When asked for his personal opinion by one of the other students present, Instructor Balthazar had declared his preference for the overwatch method without hesitation, citing that; ‘As long as you properly protect your backline, it offers superior power and strategy.’

“I guess I haven’t thought about it, really.”

Gauge admitted with a shrug.

“As a rogue with my aspects, I know that I'm more of a utility member when it comes to party composition.. And I've never considered myself much of the ‘leader’ sort.”

“You can say that again.”

Seren snorted lightly, obviously overhearing their discussion as she walked directly in between them. Gauge glowered at her and Argent laughed, shaking his head and breaking away from Seren’s grasp to simply walk beside her as their group fell into a line. Looking over the six of them, Argent considered the roles each member was suited for on the surface.

Remelia– despite her misleading appearance and size– was a {Rune-Knight}; and undoubtedly a frontline fighter. Her airily monotone and carefree antics were matched equally by raw power when she chose.

Seren, classified as a {Wild Talent}, was not nearly as sturdy– her offensive nature was oriented more around speed– but her hotheadedness and ferocity painted her as a frontliner as well… If for no other reason than her personality wouldn’t accept her being anywhere else but the thick of things.

If Gauge considered himself a utility role, then Argent supposed he also fell under that same umbrella. Either could serviceably fight from close to mid range, and Argent would go so far as to consider the {Rogue}’s archery skills proficient even at long range. But, battle prowess aside, it was the extra features and functions they brought to the table which were the focus of their value; which then begged the question as to what classification suited Shizuka.

The bunny beastkin had proven herself capable in a wide array of responsibilities, combat and otherwise, but the natural orientation of her {Kunoichi} profession dictated that stealth, intelligence, and espionage were her forte as much as martial arts. Argent considered how he often noticed Shizu serving as a ‘scout’ for Naiara, and ultimately decided to classify her in the flex positions with Gauge and himself, though it felt equally appropriate to consider her a mid-range fighter.

This isolated Matthias as the only true backline, being a divine {Priest} class rather than a more battle-oriented {Cleric}. Despite his formal gown being pleated with chainmail and carrying a mace at his hip, the boy lacked defense and boasted almost no offense, focused primarily around buffs and healing arts.

It wasn’t the worst group in the world, but it did leave them without a direct bodyguard for their squishiest member. The best case scenario being that with Gauge, Shizu, and himself all occupying a middle ground, one or two of them could fall back to assist Matthias in case of an emergency. Still, the complications involved forced Argent to realize how little time he had spent truly fighting in any kind of party or formation. Rarely had he operated anywhere in a group larger than two or three people, even after arriving here at the academy. Honestly it left him wondering if their ragtag group could actually, successfully, come together in the field…

…But that was all the more reason to get their paces in now, when the stakes were low.

*****

“Good afternoon, Instructor Cyrel.”

Argent offered a greeting for their group once the six members of class X13 had all filed into the foyer of the proving grounds. Edward Cyrel, or ‘Ward’ as he insisted upon being called even by the students, looked up from the paperwork he had been checking with a bit of a pout.

“Argent, you know better than to call me like that.”

He chided, canine ears flicking slightly as he tried and failed to appear serious. The energetic beastkin man was easily the freshest instructor at the DCA, younger than many of the upperclassmen and comparable in age to some first years. His canine tail swished as he set the documents he had been reviewing down, adjusting the broadsword at his belt and turning to face his students.

“But I forgive you! After all, what a pleasant surprise you’ve brought me-- So many of my favourite class.”

The beastkin glanced around exaggeratedly after he said it, as though checking to make sure no other students had heard him say so as he slyly gave the students of X13 a wink. His amiable nature was infectious, that much was certain. Even Seren seemed to warm up in his presence. Still, there was a sort of… Danger, lurking behind the kindness in his rich hazelnut eyes. A wild, unkept instinct that caused one to remember why he was an instructor, despite his youth...

Edward Cyrel was a {Hunter-Killer}, a rare compound profession earned through mastery in several others; to include {Ranger}, {Monster Hunter}, {Demon Hunter}, and {Slayer}... And here at the academy, he was the head of Monster Studies. His primary contribution to the institute at large was his oversight of what had come to be called the ‘Proving Grounds’; a labyrinthian hall of monsters and magick which served the purpose of housing real-world battles, such as Argent and the rest of class X13 had been introduced to during their entrance exam.

Of course training was the intended purpose behind the facility, and as such measures were taken to ensure a general lack of student fatality, but the combat itself was nothing short of genuine. Whilst the more complex environments and scenarios were made possible through arts or relocation, the monsters themselves were all very real. It was unlikely that anyone other than the Grandmaster understood how Ward procured his impressive menagerie, but the {Hunter-Killer} never failed to provide. Nomatter how many students frequented his halls, no matter how large the battles, there was always enough violence to go around. He made sure of it.

“Much as i’d love to think you came just to see me–”

The beastkin joked with sarcastic good nature.

“--I presume you’ve come to make use of the grounds.”

The group nodded in affirmation, Seren all but salivating at the prospect of violence so nearly within her grasp. Matthias put a hand on her shoulder with a nervous look, though it was difficult to tell if his expression was due to her antics or from his own feelings about what was to come. Admittedly, Argent was a little nervous himself. He could feel the emotion deep inside the involuntary tightening of his abdomen, and the light sense of heat which bristled at the back of his neck. Of course, any true amount of fear was muted considerably by the belief that none of them would be permitted to die here, but even still… The prospect of danger and pain– fresh and visceral– was enough to garner an exceptional adrenaline response.

“We were hoping to get some group training in.”

Argent spoke for their small team, hoping that the shift in his pulse didn’t make him look sickly pale. Ward smiled with a kind understanding, not perturbed by the array of emotions worn by his students as he gestured for them to follow down a wide hall. As the group walked, Argent could hear the din of battle from a handful of other rooms as well as the sounds of running water from the ‘staging area’, which was in essence a massive locker room. Students from other classes and years mingled about the space, some toweling off gore whilst others lay exhausted upon the benches. The {Hunter-Killer} stopped and turned back to face the group.

“Well, you’re in luck! We’re usually a little slow on Sundays, so there’s plenty of space, even for a six-man team… Assuming you did not want to split into threes?”

Argent shook his head, although the motion was an affirmative response.

“No, we’re all together today.”

“Right! In that case, I have but one question for you lot.”

Ward’s eyes glimmered with intensity, a grin spreading wide across his face.

“How much are you willing to bleed?”

There was an uncomfortable silence as the {Hunter-Killer} tapped the wall beside him, where the cold stone was engraven with various ‘motivational’ mantras every ten feet or so. The one by which he stood read simply: “Suffer in Training, Survive in War.” Argent swallowed hard, considering the words. Adventuring was typically not quite on the level as full scale warfare, but the intent rang true all the same.

“You mean how much do I want to make something bleed.”

Seren quipped back, not a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“The answer is; A lot.”

Instructor Ward looked pleased with her response, giving the dragonkin an enthused thumbs up as his grin widened to show the tips of his canine fangs. Noticing the way Matthias fidgeted in the background, his warm, barking laugh filled the hall for a few short bursts.

“No need to fret, Matthias. My facilities are fatality free for--”

He pretended to count on his fingers, sticking out his tongue.

"Nearly six-hundred days~"

“Oh, I’m.. Not worried about that, sir.”

The priestly boy mumbled, doing his best to stop shuffling his feet as he straightened himself up.

“It’s just.. Just combat jitters. I always get like this. I.. I worry about not being able to keep up with everyone, especially in larger groups.”

“Ah! Well, it is true that healing roles are put under a high degree of stress in the field.”

“..Yes, sir.”

“So, get in there and build that confidence!”

Matthias was barely able to let out a sound as Instructor Ward forcibly ushered the classmates into a wide room of shaped blue marble. Inside, the supporting pillars glowed with inscribed sigils, and the floor coalesced with runes. Behind them, a large stone door descended from its archway to seal the room, and Ward’s voice echoed from above.

“Sooo, I forgot to ask how long you wanted..”

His tone was anything but apologetic.

“I’ve slated you for three hours! The doors won't open before then unless it’s an emergency, so make the most of it.”

Argent could practically feel the breath he heard Matthias suck in through his teeth, but couldn’t help but smile anyway. Ward’s methods may not have been subtle, but the alchemist chose to believe their lycanthropine instructor had their best interest at heart. They’d come asking for training time and the {Hunter-Killer} had most certainly provided– even if it had come with a little push.

By the time Argent began looking around, Seren was already at the side of the room, poking at a little screen of light. Gauge stood behind her pointing over her shoulders and fussing at the girl as the two of them argued back and forth about what the ‘parameters’ for their first fight should be. Shizu stood to the side, quietly watching like a sentinel whilst Remelia stared off into nondescript space.

“Let’s do goblins!”

Seren was shouting, Gauge thumping her ontop of the head.

“No! Gobs are awful, dirty, smelly little shits! Not to mention.. I mean.. Nevermind.”

The {Rogue} huffed adamantly, deigning not to make any particular comments about half their party being females. Folding his arms over his chest, he shook his head with finality.

“No greenskins. Pick anything else.”

“Fine, you buzzkill.”

Seren sulked as she poked at a piece of the curious apparition of light. Argent realized it was an aether screen, watching as the dragonkin engaged with the dropdown menu for enemy type. It was a functionality he had only previously encountered at large, arcanely-focused libraries, where it had served as an extensive catalog for locating books and resources. Before he could read the other settings, Seren locked in her selection and jammed the command button. Argent had to brace himself to keep hold of his breakfast as the entirety of his world spun.

“Still get teleportation sickness, huh?”

He recognized Gauge’s voice as the older boy steadied him, offering a few gentle pats on the back until the room around them stabilized. No longer a cubic expanse of stone, but a humid expanse of overgrown swampland beneath a faint midday sun.

“You’re going to have to get over that.”

“Believe me, I’d love to.”

“Shh!”

Seren hushed them with a bit of a hiss, and they both complied. As his vision regained clarity, Argent confirmed that they were indeed surrounded by the deep woods of a bog. The ground beneath his feet was no longer hard, steady marble, but a brackish mire of loose soil and mud puddles. Vines hung from the trees, tangling the canopy as moss grew slick upon rocks and trunks. Fallen branches and logs sprouted dense with mushrooms as dull lighting filtered precariously through the forest coverage above. The air reeked of rot and stagnant water, and there was no hint of breeze to offer relief. Instead, the environment was heavy and wet. The humidity stuck to his skin and caused his clothing to bunch up in uncomfortable spots.

“Why did you choose a swamp??”

Argent heard Matthias complain from behind him, and he had to say he didn’t disagree with the {Priest}’s dissent. Seren hushed them again from her slightly forward position. Looking in her direction, the alchemist realized for the first time that Remelia had already manifested her greatsword, ready and alert. Seren was tucked up against the wet bark of a tree, peering around its edge as Shizuka slid into position beside her.

“What did you pick?”

Gauge questioned, settling into alert mode himself as he drew his bow and set an arrow to nock. Then he froze, his boot settling into something sticker and webbier than the muck of the swamp. A chittering sound in the distance echoed between the trees in a way that offered no detail on its true location, and every hair on Gauge’s body stood on end.

“No.. You didn’t...”

He groaned under his breath, knuckles whitening on his bow. Seren looked back at him from her position at the tree, an utterly evil smirk painted across her face.

“You said anything but goblins.”

“You bitc–”

A sudden rush of legs and skittering chirps rushed through the background, weaving between the trees. It was the size of a large dog and twice as fast, difficult to see at distance due to its mottled colouring of browns, blacks, and greens. Gauge held his breath so fast that Argent thought the {Rogue}’s lungs might pop.

“Huntsman spiders.”

Shizuka reported, as she vanished from sight and reappeared atop a high tree branch. Her ears shuddered and twitched, turning every which direction as they strained for sound.

“...Eight?”

“Twelve.”

Seren corrected her, knowing for certain as she’d set the number herself.

“Are you crazy?!”

Matthias exclaimed, the colour draining from his face as Gauge let out a moan of despair.

“What? That’s two each! It’s practically nothing!”

“This is supposed to be a warm up!”

“..I hate you.. Gods, I fucking hate you.”

“For Lilith’s sake, cry harder you babies.”

“Guys.”

Argent started forward as he reached for the hilt of his sword.

“Let’s just establish a position for now, and–”

There was a screech as the ground beneath him burst open like a hatch. All eyes in the clearing snapped to him as he was knocked flat on his back, a pit appearing beneath the camouflage lid of webbing, leaves, and sticks which had covered it. Eight shambling legs darted out from the hole and ran overtop of the alchemist, searing pain exploding in his left leg as something grabbed hold and yanked him back. He slid along the wet ground, the mud slickening any resistance he might have offered as he grasped for a handhold. Muck splashed into his eyes and mouth during the fall, leaving Argent to sputter desperately as he retained a grip on his sword with one hand and frantically wiped his eyes clear with the other.

After a few haphazard smears his vision returned enough for him to understand what he was seeing, and he immediately regretted it. Staring up into eight glittering orbs of jet black and a pair of dripping fangs, Argent felt his body tighten in panic.

“Oh… Shit.”