The next day…
It was time for my final class before the weekend — Advance CombatMechanics.
Half of the first-year batch — all the Cadets who had chosen this course as their last class of the day — stood in one of the training fields surrounding the Apex Tower.
Standing before us was a tall man with an air of brutal authority shrouding him.
He had a small moustache and judging by his receding hairline, he'd go bald in just a few months.
Yet, his physique was commendable. And his presence was sharper than a veteran soldier who had survived a hundred wars.
That was Instructor Kain Reichardt.
Our Physical Conditioning coach, and a sadist who the Academy thought would be best suited to guide us in the art of combat as well.
Because why not?
Why shouldn't a deranged psycho like him, someone who enjoyed tormenting helpless teenagers in the name of training, get to teach two classes to the freshmen?
Yeah, that was totally a sound decision.
