Individual Combat Onslaught
I'd been waiting for this moment. The shamans had finally finished building the training ground, so it was time to put it to use. I announced its purpose right away.
"We're starting individual combat training right now!!"
"""Aaaah!"""
Individual combat. It's training to hone a warrior's ability to fight solo, with survival as the top priority. You learn low crawls, high-speed movement, and how to use cover effectively. But this is a world where mana and gods are real. The old-school individual combat courses from my past life wouldn't even scratch the surface for us!!
Ping ping ping ping ping ping!!!
"W-We have to go through that?"
"That's right, and the shamans will cast spells at random intervals."
The current individual combat training ground was a death trap on autopilot: arrows whizzing everywhere, spears popping up from the ground, all sorts of murder traps primed and ready. It was a full-on slaughter circus. But this was the bare minimum to survive the brutal battlefield!!
"Before anyone goes in, I'll show you a demo from your seasoned head instructor!"
""""Aaaack!!!""""
"Shamans, to your positions!!!"
The starting bell rang, and I bolted forward. That triggered the arrow traps, of course, and projectiles came flying from all directions. But the course was littered with cover. I used it to neutralize the incoming fire briefly while pushing my high-speed movement even harder.
"S-So that's how it's done."
"Gotta keep that field of view wide."
"Hey!! Check that out!!"
"Ancestors preserve us…."
The watching senior Vikings suddenly got rowdy. Probably because the shamans were prepping ranged spells. I'd have to drill it into them later: no distractions during demos. I dodged the traps using cover like a pro, but then a wave of fire rained from the sky, the ground turned to ice, and all sorts of spells blocked my path.
But for victory, you give flesh to take life!! Even spells and traps that could drop senior Vikings—I powered through with sheer grit. The ground turned to mud, iron grates swirled with wind blades; I slithered through like an eel, and boom—flag captured.
"See!! That's how it's done! Think you can handle it?!?!"
""""A-Ah… ack!""""
"Good!! Form up in groups of ten and get ready!"
The senior Vikings looked spooked after my demo, but maybe realizing how intense this training was fired them up instead? Their eyes burned with resolve anyway. Perfect. Everything was set. The Bearclaw Tribe's first individual combat drill was underway.
Ulfrik's individual combat drill kicked off. Luckily, I'd shown them the ropes first, so they had a rough idea. But just because something looks easy doesn't mean the one doing it isn't a pro.
Pfook!!
"Gack?!"
"Nooooooo!!"
"Get up!!! The flag's right there!!"
"Gaaaahhh!!"
Projectiles overwhelmed them from every angle, like modern warfare. No amount of cover could save you if you left even a sliver of opening or got cocky—you'd turn into a pincushion fast. The first group wiped out completely.
They'd have died for real if left alone, so the shamans stepped in to retrieve them.
"Uh… Ulfrik, sir, is this really okay?"
"It's perfect, don't worry. Look, they're all getting right back up."
They'd been one hit from death thanks to the traps, but once the shamans pulled out the projectiles, the senior Vikings rose with disappointed grimaces. The shamans were shocked—their medical knowledge turned upside down—but it was fascinating too.
"Regeneration like that without full Berserkr state…."
"And barely any blood loss, right?"
"W-Wait a sec?!"
It was a valuable lesson for shamans and warriors alike. Every group ran the course once, and the results were in.
"Instructor Ulfrik, we have 15 passers total."
"Hmm… fewer than expected. At least you assistants all made it."
"Hahaha! Who do you think we are?!"
"The Drengr's loyal aides, of course!"
The assistants were full Berserkr, so they tanked every spell and trap while sprinting. Not what I'd planned, but I figured it just hyped them up more. Plenty of daylight left anyway.
"From now till end of training, we're looping this nonstop."
"We'll pass next time!!"
"Give us another shot, please!!!"
"I will, no worries. But we gotta make it tougher, right?"
Thud!!!
"Take one each."
""""!!!!""""
My bundle hit with a heavy thunk. An assistant unwrapped it, and everyone clocked it instantly.
"Sh-Shackles?"
"Those look heavy."
"You mean… run the course wearing these?!"
"Bingo!!"
Training and workouts breed familiarity. Knowing that all too well, I'd devised a way to ramp up difficulty in stages.
"So, who wants to volunteer for the upgraded hell first?!?!"
"I'll go first, great Drengr!!"
"No, me!!"
"Hey, we've got assistants for that!"
Classic Marine spirit from these Vikings. The shamans, overwhelmed by the madness, started backing away.
Now the schedule was set: drill and ceremony one day, individual combat the next. First time's the hardest—soon they were hooked.
"Hey, shamans!! Can you crank up the projectile count?!"
"Tch… shackles next?"
"Talkin' shackles when you can't even reach the flag."
"Glory awaits meeeee!!"
Aaah… who'd have thought they'd get this fired up. Your instructor was genuinely moved. Thanks to this, our Bearclaw Tribe seniors became fearless warriors, earning richer ancestral blessings.
"Might as well drag Grandma Helga in to crank it up more?"
"Ulfrik, sir, think of the rookies too."
"Ah… right."
As the assistants said, the rookies were still crawling. Plus, self-volunteers kept pouring in, so we had to consider the new blood.
"Best would be separate courses for seniors and rookies, but that's…."
"Biting off more than we can chew."
"Or add challenge objectives."
"Yeah, that works."
Stuff like "zero hits" for bonuses—more efficient. We chatted with the assistants, checking for gaps. Then it hit me: the big one.
"To boost unity, how about issuing matching insignia?"
"Exactly!!"
How'd I forget?! The Marine emblem! Red cloths tied to our tunics or armor!
But huge snag.
"Red fabric's the priciest dyed cloth, right?"
"Not enough stock for all warriors."
Damn!! Hit the era's limits. Dyed cloth costs a fortune! And it'd fray fast in combat/training. How to fix….
"Only one way."
"Perfect timing, Drengr!"
"Time to test our individual combat-honed strength!!"
"Rookies got ancestral blessings too."
"Yes!! Perfect!!"
We needed to expand the camp anyway—time for a raid to stock up. Target locked: an Empire city swimming in red cloth!
Major raid planning resumed. Lucky us, a perfect target.
"Cardia—small city. Our forces can loot it clean."
"Big river to the coast too."
"But enemies on a whole other level from villages."
"We know."
City raid meant possible deaths now. But I'd steeled myself for glorious battle-death anyway.
"Same for the other warriors."
"Hrrm… Go chase that glory then."
"Of course, Father."
"Slaves this time?"
"Skilled cloth workers."
"Hm… Other tribes got halfling slaves. Pricey, but warehouses are full—I'll send a messenger."
Sweet. Survive the raid, and we'd have uniforms and insignia makers. We planned the Geunbbae tactics for the city and prepped to sail.
"Good we nabbed those kanpeu ships last time."
"Load all rookies on 'em."
"City walls? Magic makes stealth tough—sneak in, open the gates…."
"Hey! Sneaking's a sin! I've got a way…."
"Ooh."
"Ooh."
"Ooh."
We drilled the new siege tactic briefly. They bought it hook, line, and sinker during practice—preps wrapped fast. Seniors and rookies gathered at the harbor (minus defenders), faces lit with anticipation. Time to declare the target.
"We're Geunbbae'ing an Empire city—not some village!!!"
""""Wooooaaahhhh!!!""""
"For glorious battle!!!"
""""For glory!!"""
We sailed out roaring with battle hype.