The wolf and the gnome

Next up was Theron, paired with an orc twice his size.

Theron tapped his wristband, and with a flash of light, his mecha, Rex, materialized around him. The sleek, golden armor gleamed under the arena lights.

The orc snorted. "Hiding behind a machine, typical gnomes"

Theron rolled his eyes his voice amplified by Rex's speaker "Noisy." he muttered.

The gong sounded, and the orc charged, his massive axe swinging in a deadly arc. But Theron moved with precision, Rex's boosters propelling him upward as the axe struck empty air.

The fight was a spectacle of agility and ingenuity. Rex's built-in cannons fired stunning pulses, forcing the orc to stay on his toes. When the orc tried to grapple, Rex's arms extended, delivering a powerful shove that sent him sprawling.

Kael watched, with a stoic face while he was actually cheering in his mind "Yes! Show him what you're made of."

The match ended with Theron pinning the orc with Rex's massive arm, the crowd erupting into cheers. Theron stepped out of the cockpit, flushed but triumphant.

Kael ruffled his hair while smiling "Not bad not bad."

Theron smirked.

The class continued with more pairs stepping into the arena, each match offering a spectacle of unique fighting styles and tactics. Each combatant was pushed to their limits under Commander Vyran's watchful gaze, his sharp eyes catching every flaw and hesitation.

Theron stood on the sidelines, still catching his breath after his victory. He adjusted his wristband, the golden sheen of Rex fading back into the compact device. Kael clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

"See? Told you combat class isn't so bad. You just needed to bring out your inner warrior," Kael teased.

Theron shot him a wry smile. "Inner warrior, huh? I think I'll stick to machines. They're less noisy and don't require me to dodge axes the size of tree trunks."

Kael chuckled. "Fair enough. But admit it—you enjoyed that."

Theron hesitated, then nodded. "A little."

Across the arena, the final matches were wrapping up. Bronn and Lirien watched from the sidelines, sharing notes on their opponents. Bronn leaned against a pillar, his crimson eyes thoughtful.

"Your accuracy is improving," he said to Lirien. "But you're still hesitating when your target moves unexpectedly. Focus on adapting mid-shot."

Lirien nodded, her expression serious. "And you? You rely too much on your speed. If someone catches on and anticipates your movements, it'll leave you vulnerable."

Aelric, still grumbling about his match with Kael, joined the group. "Well, at least none of you had to deal with *him*," he said, pointing an accusatory finger at Kael. "The guy fights like a rabid bear!"

Kael smirked. "And yet, I still caught the so-called 'Caffeinated Squirrel of Doom.'"

Aelric huffed, his wings fluttering in irritation. "Next time, Your Highness, I'll make sure you're the one running circles."

"Can't wait," Kael replied, his grin widening.

The final gong sounded, signaling the end of the last sparring match. Commander Vyran stomped into the center of the arena, his hooves echoing like thunder. The class immediately quieted, every student standing at attention.

The centaur's gaze swept over the group, his expression one of mild disappointment. "Well, that was... enlightening," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

A few students shuffled uncomfortably, but no one dared speak.

Vyran continued, his voice stern. "Some of you showed potential. Others… let's just say you've reminded me why I call you rascals. These sparring matches weren't just for fun. They were meant to expose your weaknesses, your tendencies, and your bad habits. If you thought this was a light warm-up after your break, let me assure you—today was easy compared to what's coming."

Kael leaned toward Theron, whispering, "He says that every year."

Theron nudged him to keep quiet, though his lips twitched with a small smile.

Commander Vyran's eyes narrowed as if he'd heard Kael. "Next class, we'll focus on endurance, strategy, and teamwork. If you thought you could slack off, think again. I'll make sure each of you knows exactly where you're failing—and how to fix it. But be warned: improvement won't come easy. You'll sweat, you'll struggle, and by the end, you'll wish you were back in that so-called 'snooze-fest' history class."

Kael stifled a laugh, earning a sharp elbow from Theron.

"Can't believe he heard that" he muttered.

Vyran turned to leave but paused, glancing back with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Oh, and for the record—today's performances will determine your sparring partners for the next month. If you slacked off today, you'll be paired with the strongest in the class. Consider it... motivation."

A collective groan rippled through the group.

With a final stomp of his hoof, Commander Vyran dismissed the class. "You're free to go. Rest while you can, rascals. You'll need it."

As the students filed out of the arena, Kael threw an arm around Theron's shoulders. "See? That wasn't so bad."

Theron sighed. "Speak for yourself. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of his 'suffering plan.'"

Kael grinned. "Exactly. That's what makes it fun."

Theron shook his head "I always knew you were a masochist"