Marksman Training Oblivion Novels & Stories

Strategy markers were laid out across the ground, formations shifting as commands were called. This was what made Blackridge dangerous. Not just power. Preparation. Discipline. The Warrior stood at the edge of the field, physically present with the pack, arms crossed as he observed. His eyes met mine briefly, and I felt the tether tighten. Watch, he advised. He will reveal himself through habit. Liora blew her whistle, sharp and commanding. “Dummies to center. Elite drill. No holding back.” Massive reinforced training dummies were hauled into position, enchanted to withstand Alpha-level strikes.

Grupo kami pero madalas ay hindi sila kikilos nang walang pahintulot ni Hellios. “Crimson, Manslayer 021, in attendance.” I announced as I faced the trainees. “Manslayer 021 is one of our best in our department. She will be assisting you in close-combat battle trainings.” Paliwanag niya. “Manslayer 018, forward and center!” Sigaw niyang muli. Thyne marched forward, beside me. “Thyne, Manslayer 018, in attendance.”

When S‑03 overcommitted to a kick, Lys slid in under it and swept her standing leg—an ugly, effective motion that felt entirely too much like how Dima had taught her to take down larger opponents. She didn’t remember Dima. Her body did. S‑03 hit the mat a second time. “Enough,” the trainer said. “Range.” *** The firing line reeked of oil and heated metal. Pistols, carbines, and modular rigs lined the racks in neat, satisfying rows. The trainer plucked a sidearm free and tossed it. Lys’s hand closed around the grip without looking, fingers finding the right place, thumb releasing the safety in a single, fluid movement.

Dumbbells of different sizes are lined next to a metal bench. Katana of different lengths rested on a rack with two hooks. He opened another door, revealing an adjoining room for aiming practices. There are lots of slots for trainees to practice their aims, with a corner reserved as a mini arsenal where the guns and ammunition to be used for the practice are kept. "Here you are" Mark announced as I nod in satisfaction. "Exactly what I want" I replied.

“I’m just the wine server, not the wine.” Felix glanced at her, then back at me. “You want me to start night simulations?” “Yes. And add uneven terrain drills. Antonioni’s terrain won’t wait for them to learn.” He nodded and turned to walk away “They’re even adapting faster than I gave them credit for,” I said. Marta didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes were fixed on them, on the rhythm of the training, as it reminded her of something she never had, or something she once lost. “They’re desperate,” She finally said. “Desperation makes people obey faster than loyalty ever will.”

} {I hope you understand that this will primarily apply when dealing with humans. Ivy stilled slightly. {Scheming humans. Dangerous humans. Individuals who can be even more ruthless than monsters.} A brief silence followed. {You will encounter them.} Ivy's expression darkened just a little. "Oh, I know…" she replied quietly. {This training ensures survival when weapons are unavailable.} Ivy nodded her head in understanding. {Next is Field Tactics & Strategy. This is where intelligence becomes crucial.} {It includes movement in dangerous environments, ambush and counter-ambush techniques, using cover and concealment, and reading terrain effectively.}

August's POV I just ignored the evil looks that Scarlet was throwing at me. No one has yet died from the evil eye. He might even get sore eyes because of what he does. We are here again in the training room and there are different guns on the long table. There are snipers, M16, shotguns, and caliber 45 pistols. Draco said we're going to do disarming. They wanted to see how fast we are to disassemble a gun. I just looked at the guns. This is not new to me because it is one of the training at PMA and it was not easy because the grade depends on whether you can pass or not. I am confident that I can do it easily.

And that is a complete No-No for hunting. The lady was knocked out and he couldn't smirk any harder since the kids looked untamed and stupid. Another group of little fangs quenching their thirst without proper execution and training. Their clans might be very disappointed once he reports this to them. Seeing that the group finally had had enough sip, he slowly stepped closer to stop them. He held on one of the boys' collar to keep him from biting on since he looked like he is about to sip again even after a few hard sucking.

I sat in the corner of the training hall on the tenth day, watching Sable run the drills. There was no simulated frost anymore. There was no gentle dampening of the temperature. Sable was using the captured human muskets. She would take them out to the ridge, fire them into the trees, and force the recruits to absorb the jarring, concussive terror of the blast without flinching. I watched a young boy from the eastern plains drop to his knees, vomiting from the sheer psychosomatic shock of swallowing the violence. Isra was beside him instantly, not to comfort him, but to write his threshold capacity into the ledger.

The training camp was humming with a new kind of energy. For the first time, the outcasts weren't just shadows in the trees; they were becoming a unit. Rowan moved among them with a sharp, disciplined focus, showing Isaac and the others how to use the terrain as a weapon. He taught them how to set traps that could disable a drone and how to move in a way that confused thermal sensors.