The Next Day — General Combat Classes
Thwaaam!
"Ohhh~" I clapped my hands in awe as a male cadet went flying through the air in a spectacular arc. It was a magnificent shoulder throw, if I dare say.
His body hit the hard concrete with a sickening bounce, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A muffled groan slipped from his lips, his face contorted in agony as he stared up at his opponent through half-lidded eyes.
Even now, his hand was still trapped in a merciless vice grip, his wrist twisted with bone-snapping intent by Ceres.
"I… I yield," he croaked, his words strained beneath the weight of her cold, unsympathetic gaze.
And just like that—it was over.
Ceres released his arm without a word, stepping back from his crumpled body. Around her, a scattering of other cadets writhed and groaned on the ground, clutching at their bruises and sprains. It was carnage, yet somehow a spectacle.
