"Alright, time's almost up," Gael said, taking out her pocket watch for a glance before putting it away.
In the largest training ground in the camp, Training Ground No. 1, the instructors had gathered the scattered trainees. At a glance, it was a vast sea of people.
"So many, meow! There are actually this many trainees, meow?!" Sajji's eyes went wide with shock.
Gael chuckled. "After several expansions, the Dundorma Hunter Training Camp can now accommodate more than eight hundred trainees at once. On average, about one hundred and fifty graduate as official Hunters every year.
It's the largest Hunter training institution in the entire Old World, no, in the entire world."
"A hundred and fifty new people every year, meow?! Wouldn't that completely overrun the Guild Hall here?"
"Who told you everyone gets stationed at the Guild Hall here? These youngsters come from all over the world. Most of them choose to return to their hometowns, or they get assigned to various towns and villages.
Our training camp supplies new blood to the whole world, you know," Gael said, brimming with pride.
"Teacher Karin graduated from here, then went to a frontier village and served as a village Hunter for a few years," Altaïr added. "I heard her mention that when she graduated, the total number of trainees in the camp was around five or six hundred."
"Karin, I still remember that child," Gael said, her tone carrying a touch of nostalgia. "That was already after the expansion. When I graduated, the entire camp had fewer than two hundred people.
Alright, they're almost finished assembling. Let's head over."
With that, Gael strode toward the center of the Training Area, Altaïr following in silence.
Francesca didn't join them. After all, she wasn't demonstrating anything, and it would have been pretty awkward just standing there with so many people watching. So she scooped up Sajji and casually blended into the crowd of trainees.
"Ah, none of these youngsters know who I am anymore," Francesca sighed with an air of aged world-weariness. "A few years ago, wouldn't a whole bunch of people have been clearing a path and fetching me a seat?"
"Was Lady Francesca a Chief Student too, meow?" Sajji tilted his head up curiously.
Francesca put on an expression of deep, world-worn melancholy. "Heh, that's all in the past. I haven't been the Boss for many, many years now."
On the other side, Gael led Altaïr to stand amid the crowd.
She didn't use a loudspeaker; her resonant voice was enough for everyone to hear. "Today, we have a special guest visiting the training camp!
He is Altaïr from the Great Desert! Everyone, give him a warm welcome!"
Clap, clap, clap, clap... Led by the instructors, everyone applauded vigorously.
Altaïr's expression in the center was stiff. To make it easier for the trainees to see his face, Lady Gael wouldn't even let him wear his helmet.
He was already starting to regret agreeing to help. This feeling of being watched by nearly a thousand people was truly uncomfortable.
"Alright, alright, that's enough," Gael said, pressing her palms downward.
A few trainees kept clapping, trying to stir things up. Gael's eyes instantly widened in a glare. "Are every single one of you deaf?! Quiet down, all of you!"
The scene finally fell silent.
"Before, I... we always racked our brains and pulled favors to invite impressive senior Hunters here for you. Quite a few High Rank Hunters have visited just this year, haven't they?
I originally planned to let you see what a truly formidable Hunter looks like. But as it turns out, you little brats, after seeing those experts, all started thinking you're hot stuff too, didn't you? Every single one of you got cocky, isn't that right? Huh?!"
Gael's tone grew harsher, and she no longer cared whether her language was proper or not. "I've been an Instructor for over a dozen years now, and I've never seen a batch of trainees so utterly clueless about their own limits!
This is seriously the worst batch I've ever taught!"
The senior trainees who had been around for more than a year secretly curled their lips. They had heard this lecture so many times their ears were calloused.
"I've figured it out myself. Inviting those impressive Hunters here is useless. What they demonstrate, you lot don't qualify to learn, and you can't even understand it. Every one of you is just staring blankly like a Congalala gazing at the moon.
So, I casually grabbed a young guy from the roadside, about your age." Gael spoke while vigorously slapping Altaïr's pauldrons, producing two dull "clank, clank" sounds, then continued spraying spittle as she ranted.
"I'll let you see what level someone around your age, who only recently became an official Hunter, should be at. You bunch of Congalalas can't understand the moon, but you can at least understand the fruit on the tree, right?
Maybe that'll stop you all from thinking you're so incredible, shouting every day about graduating early, as if the Instructors are tying you down and not letting you take flight!"
"Didn't she say he came from the Great Desert? The Instructor just casually grabbed someone all the way from the Great Desert..."
"But I gotta say, he does look about our age."
Listening to the trainees whispering beside her, Francesca, mixed into the crowd, held back a laugh.
Actually, her mom wasn't exactly lying. Altaïr had been an official Hunter for less than three years. People his age were mostly still spinning their wheels at 1★ and 2★. Calling it "recently" wasn't a problem.
"What is the senior Hunter going to demonstrate?" a bold trainee directly shouted out.
Gael jumped in to answer. "He's only a teenager too; he doesn't know anything special. He'll just show you some basics.
We can't be bothered to fire up the steam mechanism either. Let's just use the practice targets you normally train with!"
Gael dragged a completely numb Altaïr over to a practice target.
It had to be said, befitting a training camp, the facilities were indeed comprehensive. Any random practice target for sword training was not only wrapped in hemp rope and leather, but even shaped like a Velocidrome.
The base seemed rotatable and movable, perhaps for the trainees to get a better feel?
"Which weapon will it be? Pick one yourself from the rack!" After saying this, Gael turned around and lowered her voice. "I was worried those brats would spot something off, so they're all the most ordinary iron weapons. But they've been properly sharpened. The Sharpness should be decent."
Under the gaze of the crowd, Altaïr took a deep breath. Not in the best mood, he just wanted to finish this demonstration as quickly as possible and leave.
Calming himself, he picked up a pair of Dual Blades from the weapon rack. Altaïr immediately activated Demon Mode.
The next second, his entire body became an afterimage wreathed in swirling flashes of steel, carving a spinning slash from the head of the "Velocidrome" all the way to its tail, leaving a chain of slash marks down the side of the target.
Demon Flurry Rush!
The newly enrolled trainees merely let out a "Whoa!" But those senior trainees eligible to even consider graduation, and even the training camp Instructors, couldn't help widening their eyes.
So fast! And you're telling me this is a rookie Hunter?! Altaïr, who had charged at lightning speed to the target's flank, began his Blade Dance. The burst of ultra-high-speed slashes almost instantly sheared off one of the "Velocidrome's" hind legs along with its tail.
A real Velocidrome wouldn't be this fragile, but this was only a wooden practice target. Finding the seam joints and severing the limbs wasn't difficult.
At least, not for him.
On the other side of the target, Gael cackled and lifted her leg, giving the "Velocidrome's" neck a hard kick. The movable base immediately spun, taking the target mounted above with it.
This was something countless Blademaster trainees absolutely despised.
Everyone knew the steam mechanical beasts used for combat training could move, and they would be on guard against it.
But practice targets like this, used for daily sword drills, were generally "dead" under normal circumstances. Yet that didn't stop an Instructor from walking by and giving one a casual kick, leaving the person practicing to get rammed black and blue.
This wasn't prearranged, but Gael wasn't the least bit worried that Altaïr would be caught off guard.
He had hunted 5★ Monsters multiple times. If he lacked even this level of on-the-spot reaction, a Monster would have swallowed him long ago.
Facing the head of the "Velocidrome" as it spun and crashed toward him, Altaïr's expression remained unchanged. At the very instant it was about to hit, he leapt up, twisting in midair to precisely evade the attack.
A round of cheers erupted from the crowd. Just as they thought Altaïr would charge forward and continue his fierce assault...
Then, he suddenly retreated a few steps and deactivated Demon Mode.
The blood-colored flames of fighting spirit dispersed. Outwardly, he seemed to have returned to normal, but in truth, Archdemon Mode and blue demon mode had already been activated.
Before the aura dissipated, Altaïr set down his Dual Blades, picked up a Long Sword from the weapon rack, and lopped off the "Velocidrome's" head with a single Crimson Blade Slash.
Immediately after, he took up a Sword and Shield and severed the "Velocidrome's" two front claws with Perfect Rush.
A Great Sword's Strong Charged Slash cleaved the "Velocidrome" in two at the waist.
Finally, a Hammer's spinning strong pressure smashed the "Velocidrome corpse" still propped up there to smithereens.
The surrounding trainees fell into complete silence. Gael couldn't help but cover her face.
That kid didn't actually mix up his moves at random, and he properly demonstrated each weapon's unique characteristics. But wasn't this a bit too aggressive? It feels like he's venting somehow...
Would anyone really still consider him a rookie?
(Translated by yourtl.app)