The True Omang Strike Formation
The True Omang Strike Formation. Among its five mechanisms, the first one that unleashed a barrage of hidden weapons was said to be enough to fell even flying dragonflies.
Even so, this seems like way too much.
I clicked my tongue at the sight of hidden weapons blanketing the area from all sides. Yesterday, it definitely hadn't been anywhere near this intense. Back then, I could've deflected them all even at a leisurely pace.
That old man cranked up the output.
My guess was spot on. Norton had no intention of running the training as casually as yesterday. If yesterday had been stage 1 out of 7, today he'd bumped it up to stage 3.
"Wh-what the hell!"
"Block it!"
I heard panicked shouts from the trainees nearby. No surprise there. Even I was momentarily taken aback—those bloody newbies must be freaking out.
"Don't panic, everyone! Hold the formation. Only knock down the ones entering our range! That'll be enough to block them!"
I bellowed the order with absolute confidence. Whether my words struck a chord or not, the flustered trainees started regaining their composure.
Thung! Thudududung!
The hidden weapons poured down like a monsoon but failed to pierce the defense of our hexagram formation. They ricocheted everywhere, scattering across the ground. By the time the barrage ended, the floor around us was piled high with them, like a field of darts.
"Whoa, we blocked it!"
"Covering each other's angles with six people makes it so much easier, right?"
"Totally!"
The trainees stared in disbelief, even though they'd done it themselves. Fair enough—none of them except me had ever experienced a formation like this.
Still, it was just slow enough for the kids to handle.
One more stage higher, and they definitely wouldn't have managed.
"Heh heh, you'd better stay sharp from here on out."
Norton flashed a wicked grin at us, his eyes gleaming with mischief, just as we'd cleared the first hurdle.
"On to the second exercise!"
With that, he slammed the button in his hand.
Kurrrgrrr.
Not just the dart-shooting iron puppets, but other types emerged as well. They immediately resumed their barrage, and the new ones sprang into action.
"...!"
"Assault puppets!"
"Leto, left side—block!"
"They're coming from behind too!"
The trainees' coordination turned to chaos in an instant. Who'd have thought he'd activate multiple mechanisms at once? A few panicked, their movements tangling.
What a mess.
I sighed, eyeing Norton smirking from afar. Looked like we'd be sweating today.
* * *
"Wha—?!"
Ogmen deflected a flying dart from the front, then whipped his head around at a sudden chill from the side. His eyes bulged.
An iron puppet had appeared out of nowhere, swinging a dagger at him.
H-help...!
He started to cry out but realized everyone else was swamped by the dual assault of darts and ambushers.
Damn it! Am I the first dropout?
As he bit his lip and glared resentfully at the approaching puppet—
Thwoong!
"Huh?"
A heavy thud sent the puppet flying back from point-blank range. Ogmen blinked, replaying what happened.
A dagger out of nowhere...!
A thrown dagger had smashed into the puppet's forehead, toppling it.
"Watch your back!"
Ogmen turned to see Aleck smiling his way.
"Holy crap!"
Aleck could use throwing knives too? What couldn't that guy do? Ogmen shot him a grateful look, brimming with admiration.
I was a bit worried since I'd never thrown iron rings before, but it worked fine.
Aleck chuckled inwardly at his sheath of daggers. In his previous life, he'd been an assassin, handling all sorts of hidden weapons. Throwing knives were second nature.
Feeling the benefits of my boosted physical stats.
His newfound strength had boosted his confidence proportionally. With a sly grin, he drew another knife.
Shing—thung!
Shushung, thwoooong!
As time passed, Aleck's throws sped up, plugging every gap in their defense.
"Whoa!"
"Insane... Aleck, I love you!"
"What's that throwing technique?!"
"Aleck, you switch from assassin to warrior or what?!"
The trainees, catching a breather thanks to him, cheered and joked around.
Look at these punks.
Norton curled his lip watching them. This wasn't what he'd planned. He'd wanted the team to collapse helplessly, identify issues, fix them, repeat—toughening up through trial and error. That's how teams normally grew. He'd hoped it'd build teamwork and broaden the horizons of squad leaders Aleck and Theo.
And he just bulldozes through like this?
Unbelievable. Aleck's squad-level tactics were brilliant enough, but his personal skill had skyrocketed too. Combined, it created this stunning synergy.
As expected from you, Aleck... Heh heh heh, perfect. Let's see how far you can go!
Norton's cheek twitched. He pressed the handle's button.
Kurrrgrrrrr.
The training ground floor rumbled violently.
* * *
"Wh-what is it?"
Shouts of confusion rose at the sudden shift in the training ground. I figured it out and tsked.
Another mechanism activated.
Three out of five already, and it was only day two. Proof we were handling it well... but this crossed a line.
"Ughhh!"
"D-damn, my balance..."
"Stomach's churning!"
Sensory disruption—the third mechanism's effect.
Hmm.
I narrowed my eyes. Activating the third alongside the others was ridiculous enough, but picking this tricky sensory jammer right now? Trainees spun dizzily, nauseous, balance subtly off. Yet the darts and assaults kept coming relentlessly.
No choice.
I made the call and yelled at the trainees.
"Tighten the formation! Everyone, cluster to the center!"
They struggled but converged, holding formation. A few had taken hits—grimacing, clutching arms, legs, thighs. Unavoidable. The difficulty had exceeded their limits.
He's dead set on dropping us at least once.
I fully grasped Norton's intent. He wanted us to fail, learn, grow. Amid the chaos, I shot him a glare. Arms crossed, he beamed contentedly, enjoying our floundering. Our eyes met briefly; his crescented with curiosity.
What'll you do now?
A total bind. Quitting fast might even be smarter. But I thought differently.
If that's how you wanna play, I'll give it my all.
I pondered deeply. What now? Clean surrender was leaderly too. But I had one unused card.
Me.
A grin tugged my lips. The strongest asset here was yours truly. I'd been support so far, but time to switch—frontline star.
"Ruslan, Robed."
They turned to me.
"Frontal breakthrough from now. Cover me, both of you."
Our strongest after me. With flank cover, we could punch through to the end.
"Sounds fun. I'll take left."
"What? Too risky... Hmm, alright. Let's do it."
Ruslan lit up instantly; Robed hesitated on danger but nodded. Their personalities shone through.
"Rest of you, hold formation!"
"Got it!" they chorused, skeptical glances lingering. Darts, puppets, sensory chaos—could three even break through?
Actions over words.
I grinned, exchanging looks with Ruslan and Robed at my sides. A nod, and we surged forward.
Flash!
Darts zeroed in. Rubber or not, full hits meant bruises everywhere. No thanks—I drew my waist sword and swung.
Soft and swift!
Infusing flow and speed, I met the onslaught head-on.
Papapapapapung!
My blade vibrated, deflecting the barrage. We pressed on.
"Whoaaa!"
Exclamations from the formation behind. To them, my swordplay was a masterpiece—flashy as hell.
Shooo!
But threats weren't just darts. Puppets ambushed around me. Normally, halt and block—but—
"Ruslan, Robed!"
They slashed the attackers. Then dizziness hit. Darts curved zigzag, elegantly deceptive.
Illusion array.
Sensory disruptor. Once caught, senses twist, standing's a chore. For normals, anyway.
Not me.
I smirked, channeling ether.
Hwaa—.
Heat rose to my eyes; the spinning world steadied.
A grin. Forward again.
"Hah!"
Norton jolted up from afar, astonished. He hadn't expected easy breakthrough.
Game's basically over.
Over 100 meters down; the crate loomed close. A bit more—
Kuuuung!
But Norton wouldn't sit idle. Past the hellzone of 1-3, nothing—or so I thought.
Iron-and-wood primal puppets appeared.
"The fourth stage: evade primal attacks! Pull the crate switch, and they stop—so deal with 'em!"
Norton's shout timed perfectly.
"Crazy!"
"Real primals implemented?!"
"Whoa... spider types too."
Trainees gawked in horror. Few had faced high-tier primals.
Tarantulas, hornets, stag beetles—mimics oozed intimidation despite being fake.
Big budget.
Adding those to the formation cost a fortune. Top mantis warrior meant deep pockets.
Anyway—time to punch through. Three massive primal puppets charged me; I smirked crookedly.
First, the hornet lunging stinger-first. I thrust straight at it.
"Frontal clash?! Dangerous!"
Norton shot up, shocked. No dodging? A Maturity Stage foe at least for that.
But I had a secret skill he didn't know.
Target the wood parts.
Wood-exclusive top-tier destruction.
Pulverize (C) activated!
My blade hummed faintly, shooting toward the hornet primal's wooden belly.