Chapter 67: Chapter 67: New rules

"Switch! Quick heal on Morris! Arrow Barrage at five o'clock!" Dorian commanded. They had a small corner of the training hall for themselves, and they were surrounded by other parties, who were hacking at the animated dummies with the ferocity of someone who had just realized they were way over their head.

Alklair had been calm when the entire guild had gathered to read their contracts. He had gone to the middle of the training hall, and had simply pulled up his shirt. Everyone gasped at the scars that littered his skin.

"This is a souvenir of the one time I didn't take a quest seriously," Alklair had begun mournfully. "I realized that I had to stop pulling rank halfway through. When the giant ants swarmed me. And, do you know what? I yelled to my tank, a good woman who is not among us now, 'Anastasia, take charge' and that saved my life and the life of the other three members of our party."

That was all the parties needed to know to begin to read their contracts. Because, if Alklair, who had a thousand years of experience, had written those rules to help them, then, he had done so based on said enormous experience.

Platoon number 23, consisting of the Budding Lilies and the Try Hard Party, also read their contracts. Despite Alberta having read them for the platoon back in the counselor's office.

Then, the entire guild had gone down to the sparring ring and had begun to train. Some parties had paired up. There were a couple of platoons who were in a battle royale. But platoon number 23 had taken the edge of the sparring ring and laid claim to ten dummies. And no one, after knowing what had happened to the eight, had contested that.

"Dorian, switch," Morris yelled. He was pressed on two sides by dummies who were a head taller than him and had bigger bodies, imitating a wall of muscle one could find on a boss mob.

Dorian rushed out to bash one of the dummies.

"Quick heal on Florifel," Lilia yelled. Florifel was bent over and breathing heavily after a dummy had punched her in the gut.

"Her quota is over, get her out of there," Leander yelled. In the two hours, he had tried to give out the quick heals sparingly. But his platoon had called out for them often.

"Stop," Alklair's voice boomed, and the adventurers turned to look at him. "What are you all doing? Do you call this training? This is a carnage!"

The dummies went back to their places by the wall. The aged elf was fuming next to Valerie.

"How come you don't even know how to train? How is that possible?" They had never seen their guild master lose his temper before. Adventurers were blinking rapidly. They had always trained like that, and it had never been a problem.

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"To the stands, all of you! Baleg even gave a seminar on how to use the new dummies. Did any of you even show up?" Alklair roared. The adventurers couldn't go to the stand fast enough. A stampede ensured, and Alklair's eyes widened.

"Walk, you dunderheads!" He yelled and everyone stopped. Alklair, much to his horror, saw an adventurer being helped up from the ground. If there was ever a fire in the guild, it would be a slaughter.

Valerie looked ashen next to him. Was this the quality of the Huergaz adventurer's guild? But they had been praised as the best in Alcandino. The third best in the world. Were people blind? Their adventurers didn't think about anything but attacking! How could they call them a good guild? No, an exceptional guild?

"When the Samkiel's disaster happened, I thought that the Firebolts got cocky," Alklair hissed, but his voice carried. "So, I sat down with Valerie, and we asked ourselves: What could have been done? The answer was more training and spells that are crowd control, but could be stopped from becoming friendly fire."

Jean looked at his hands. He was still used as a bad example, and he felt that that would last for a long time. He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw lemon cake looking at him with a calm expression. Leander had been there when Jean had told the counselor his fears and regrets. And he understood. Jean managed to give him a weak smile, and he turned to stare at Alklair, who was massaging his temples.

"I recall you all from active duty," murmurs spread through the crowd. They all knew what was coming after such a thing. "And you will have three months of real training. Where you don't get hurt, for Pete's sake! After those three months, there will be a battle evaluation and God help those that haven't learned to think in that time. Now, Baleg will give a seminar on how to use the darn dummies, again. So, get the ear wax out of your ears and listen!"

Alklair stormed off, but they could hear him shout, just as he closed the door, loud and clear. They all winced when they heard him shout: "I don't run an adventurer's guild! I run a circus."

Baleg went to the middle of the sparring hall and beckoned a dummy closer.

"It is rather simple, really. You tap them on a vital spot, and they will either play crippled or dead. For example, if you tap them in the stomach, they will fall down, but might still get up. If you tap them over the heart, they won't get up again," Baleg then tapped a dummy over the heart slowly, and it fell.

Embarrassed coughs were heard from the crowd.

"Now, you might be wondering why we don't want to hack at them until they are sawdust? Well, in the field, do you mindlessly hack at a mob, or do you go for the vital spots?" Someone raised their hand, and then a couple of others rose theirs. Baleg pointed at the first adventurer that did so, and the seminar began.

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