Chapter 13
(A/N): Here's another chapter.
"Okay…." Pitt muttered to himself, sitting alone in the back of the empty classroom. Just like his drill instructors had told him during training, well beat into him, 15 minutes early is still 15 minutes late. He stood at the door before Professor Port had arrived, prompting a surprised look and an ecstatic greeting from the veteran huntsman. "Beowolves are the things we fought when we got here, Ursa look like big ass bears, and deathstalkers are basically giant scorpions." He tried to visualize facing one alone, the fight quickly ended with him on the ground dead. He sighed, his lack of confidence weighing his head down. "Say, professor, have you ever taken down a deathstalker alone?"
"Of course young man!" the stout hunter dropped his stack of books on the corner of his desk. "I've defeated many during my youth." He began pacing back and forth, retelling a vivid tale from his time as a hunter. The story had gone on longer than expected and students started to trickle in slowly as class began. "And with my cunning knowledge I lured the beast into my trap! It followed me into the rocky pass, where I used my weapon to collapse the surrounding walls, crushing it under the rubble. And that my friend is how I saved that little village." He held his hand to his waist and let out a jovial banter. Pitt stared, wide eyed in amazement at the man, while the other students had already nodded off.
"That's amazing."
"Yes well, I'm sure that in time you to will be able to accomplish such feats." He twiddled his moustache and picked his books back up. "You will hear plenty more tales from my class."
Looking back at his book, he reread all the highlight portions. Methods of attack, weapons, armor locations, everything he could think of that would help if he ever had to fight one alone. The bell chimed with the last of the students taking their seats. The chattering students hushed once professor Port took the spotlight at the front of the class.
"Hey Mr. Pitt." Looking away from his book Ruby sat beside him, the rest of her team sat in order of their team name. "Why are you here?" she asked, lifting and eyebrow and opening her book.
"Yes, why are you here?" Wiess stared analytically at him. Wondering the same.
"Sgt. Banks and Ozpin made me attend classes." He answered honestly, after all it was the truth.
"Aren't you a little old to be here?"
"Don't be like that Wiess." Ruby playfully shot back.
"It's a legitimate question."
"I turned 17 a few months ago, were actually not that old you know." Pitt stated, he began listing off everyone's ages. "Wade and Sledge are 19, Frost is 24, Sgt. Banks and Sgt. Ortiz are both about 25ish I think. Never really asked them." Holding his chin, he thought hard about Auburns age. "And I never got an answer for Auburn, she just says 'old enough' whenever I ask. So I think I fit the age group to attend."
"Isn't the minimum age requirement to join any form of armed service 18?" Yang asked, leaning over the table to join the group.
Pitt stuttered, trying to think of an excuse or deflect the topic. "Well, you see when I…."
"Having a pleasant conversation back there?" Professor Port cut in, saving him from the interrogation.
"Sorry sir. It won't happen again." Apologizing, Port resumed his lecture.
"As I was saying, a proper huntsman must be lethal, intelligent, and observant. So tell me Mr. Pitt, what can you tell me about a common grim. A boarbatusk." He pointed at the diagram above him, a stretched out picture with faint scribbles pointing at each part.
Thinking to his note he listed off several key points. "Well for starters, the armor plating is mostly located along the spine to reinforce it during its primary form of attack. It also has supplementary armor in its frontal region for obvious reasons." Port gave a satisfied nod and Pitt continued. "During its rolling attack, it travels for the most part, in a linear path and has difficulty turning without opening up to change direction."
Port clapped his hands with a satisfied look under his bushy brow. "An excellent explanation Mr. Pitt."
"Thank you sir.
"Now, after observing your prey and finding it weakness, one must take advantage of it. Care to demonstrate Mr. Pitt?"
"You mean here?" shocked, his head tilted slightly. "Like, right now, in the classroom?"
"Of course! I have several specimens ready for practical demonstrations." He pointed to a heavily locked door at the end of the classroom. Listening closer he heard the muffled growls from within
"Um…. Sure, I guess." Excusing himself to get ready, he returned 10 minutes later to the front of the class in his combat gear. While the professor wheeled a cage the room Pitt double checked his suits systems. "HUD is active, shields at 100%, ammo ready to go…. Buckshot…." He loaded a buckshot cartridge into the under barrel launcher, closing it with a reassuring snap. "Loaded."
"Are you ready Mr. Pitt?"
"Ready as ill every be sir." He gave Port a nod and the lock was cut. The boarbatusk leapt out, snarling as it scanned the room. Locking eyes on the lone figure it let out a high pitched shrill and curled up. it sped towards his faster than he expected but he let out a relaxed breath and wait for it to get closer. At 10 meters he flicked the safety to fire. At 5 meters he shifted his hand to the launcher's trigger, at 1 meter he rolled to the side and fired the buckshot right as it passed. The creature was sent flying into the chalkboard, squealing in pain. It attempted to lift itself but failed, it's exposed limbs ripped apart by the swarm of ball bearings.
*BANG* *BANG*
Pitt fired a pair of shots at the wound creature, putting it out of its misery. He let out a sigh of relief, watching it slowly dissipate. Several students cheered from the class, most sat unimpressed while Ruby and Yang cheered louder from the back.
"Well executed young man." Port congratulated him, slapping his shoulder several times. "Without a doubt we'll make a huntsman out of you by the time you leave here."
Pitt nodded and returned to his seat. Ruby started acting out how he killed the grimm with her own twist. Pitt smiled at the attention until she calmed down. Looking out the window he saw the platoon from the hanger doing something around a wall in the courtyard. Some were jump up the wall, others making a human pyramid as they tried in vain to reach something. Thinking back, he remembered that Sgt. Ortiz had them for the day.
"I wonder what they're up to." He sighed with bored, returning to his notes.
(line break)
"It's only been ten miles, and they're still falling out." Ortiz muttered to herself. Behind her the platoon stretched around a hundred yards behind her. Tired of seeing their weak display she stopped abruptly at the base of a support column at the entrance of the school. The formation stumble to her, all trying their best to remain on her feet. Rolling her eyes, she removed her boot knife from its sheath. Twirling it in her palm she turned to face the column. The platoon watched the display, their eyes following the knife as it flew through the air. The knife stuck firmly in the column 20 meters from the base. Looking at the platoon, she crossed her arms and explained the task.
"I expect a knife in my hands within the hour, otherwise you will be training with Sergeant Banks for the rest of the week." Taking a seat, she watched he chaos unfold. With renewed energy, they franticly made attempts for the knife. Forming a human pyramid at first, only for the base to collapse under the weight. Next, they began throwing their running shoes that the knife, missing every throw. Ortiz let out a small chuckle when one of the shoes managed to hit the knife. Their faces were priceless when it got snagged one it, leaving the shoe to dangle above. Time went by and they group exhausted all ideas, she was about to end her game but stopped when she saw one of them standing off to the side. Staring at the knife she left the group, heading for the hanger. Moments later she returned with a knife in hand.
"M-mission accomplished… sergeant." The girl stuttered. Towering over her Ortiz took the knife, impressed by her idea.
"Name." Ortiz asked bluntly, sliding the knife home.
"FL-Flores, Pvt. Flores ma'am."
"You passed, go home." Pointed at the hanger she sent her away. Looking back at the rest she relished their faces. Full of disbelief at what just happened. She took off with a brisk jog, leaving the rest to follow as they groaned and complained.