Chapter 147: How to Throw a Hyena
By the time the exhibition fights were over, the training grounds had emptied considerably.
The thousands of soldiers who had filled the grandstands only a short while ago had dispersed across the military compound, returning to their respective duties.
Only the twenty Captains remained.bThey had gathered on the pale sand alongside Mirabelle, her mother, Kaelith, Lucien, and the General.
The formal atmosphere from earlier had loosened considerably.
Mirabelle had spent some time speaking with the Captains individually, asking about their units, their experiences during the war, and whether there was anything they believed the soldiers needed.
Her mates had joined those conversations as naturally as though they’d been doing this for years.
Now the sun had begun its slow descent, though the heat still lingered stubbornly over the training grounds. The sand radiated warmth through the soles of Mirabelle’s shoes, and the air smelled of dust, sweat, leather, and the refreshments that had recently been distributed among the soldiers.
Eventually, the General clapped his enormous hands together. The sharp sound immediately drew everyone’s attention.
"There’s one more matter I’d like to discuss before we finish."
The conversations died away.
The boar Beastman looked toward Mirabelle.
"The Future Duchess had a criticism regarding today’s exhibition fights."
Twenty pairs of eyes immediately turned toward her.
Mirabelle blinked.
’A criticism?’
That made it sound considerably worse than she’d intended.
Several of the Captains exchanged glances.
One frowned.bAnother straightened almost defensively.
The General saw it too.
A deep laugh rumbled from his chest.
"Don’t look so offended. She wasn’t criticizing the ability of our soldiers."
The tension eased by perhaps half an inch.
"She noticed something we don’t teach."
Now he had their attention.
The General stepped into the center of the loose gathering.
"We train our soldiers to use the strengths of their lineage. Speed. Strength. Balance. Sight. Hearing. Endurance."
He gestured toward the arena where the exhibition fights had taken place.
"But when attacked with force, our warriors generally do one of two things. They avoid it... or oppose it with force of their own."
Several Captains nodded.
"Naturally," someone said.
"Exactly."
The General grinned.
"The Future Duchess asked me why."
A short silence followed.
"Why what?"
"Why we oppose it at all."
That earned him several confused expressions.
The General looked positively delighted now.
"Her suggestion is that instead of stopping an opponent’s movement, we allow it to continue."
A Captain snorted.
"So we let them hit us?"
"No."
Mirabelle couldn’t help herself.
A few heads turned toward her.
She stepped forward.
"You let them move where they already intend to move. Just not necessarily where they intended to end up."
That produced even more confused expressions.
Mirabelle suppressed a smile.
The General began demonstrating with his hands, almost exactly as she had earlier.
"If an opponent comes at you with his entire body behind an attack, he has already created momentum. Instead of stopping that momentum, you move away from its path, take control of part of his body, and continue his movement."
Understanding slowly appeared on a few faces. Skepticism remained on others.
"That would require extremely precise timing."
"And if you misjudge it, you get hit."
"Sounds unnecessarily complicated."
That one made the General laugh.
Mirabelle appreciated that he didn’t attempt to defend her idea blindly.
"Which is why we’d need to test it."
"I think we can do that."
Lucien’s voice came from behind her.
Mirabelle turned. The fox Beastman had already begun rolling up his sleeves.
Beside him, Kaelith grinned.
’Oh no.’
She knew that grin.
"We were listening earlier," Kaelith said.
"We’d like to try."
The Captains immediately became interested.
Mirabelle looked between her two mates:
"You’ve never trained like this."
Lucien shrugged.
"You explained the principle rather well."
That was not nearly as reassuring as he seemed to think it was. Nevertheless, several minutes later, everyone had moved to surround the central fighting ring.
Kaelith and Lucien stepped into the sand.
The difference between them was immediately apparent.
The General folded his arms.
"No affinities. No abilities."
Kaelith nodded.
"Only physical strength," Lucien confirmed.
"And the Future Duchess’s idea," the General added.
Mirabelle crossed her arms.
Calling it her idea felt generous considering humans in her previous world had been throwing one another around like this for centuries.
Kaelith and Lucien faced each other. For a moment, neither moved.
Then Kaelith attacked. Fast.
Much faster than someone his size had any right to move.
His foot dug into the sand and his entire body accelerated forward.
Lucien stepped aside. Nothing unusual there. Except this time he didn’t retreat.
His hand caught Kaelith’s wrist. The other touched his upper arm.
Lucien turned. He continued Kaelith’s movement instead of stopping it.
Kaelith suddenly had considerably more forward momentum than he’d intended.
His eyes widened. His foot came down hard.
Sand sprayed outward as he managed to stop himself before falling.
Someone whistled.
"Again."
Kaelith was grinning.
Lucien attacked this time. He came in lower, one hand reaching toward Kaelith’s side.
The hyena twisted. His hand closed around Lucien’s forearm.
Mirabelle expected him to pull.
He didn’t.
He stepped backward and sideways at the same moment Lucien continued forward.
Lucien stumbled. Kaelith’s hip moved into his path.
Then —
THUD.
Lucien landed flat on his back. A cloud of dust rose around him.
Silence.
Mirabelle’s mouth fell open.
Kaelith stared down at Lucien.
Lucien stared up at Kaelith.
Then both started laughing.
"What did you do?"
The question came from somewhere among the Captains. Kaelith looked genuinely delighted.
"I don’t entirely know."
Mirabelle laughed.
"You put your hip beneath his center of gravity."
Kaelith looked at her.
"I did?"
"Yes!"
"Huh."
Lucien accepted Kaelith’s hand and returned to his feet.
"Again."
This time, the Captains moved closer.
Lucien brushed sand from his clothes.
They began circling.
Kaelith attacked.
Lucien caught his arm again.
Turned.
Kaelith anticipated it. He shifted his weight backward...
But Lucien changed direction.bInstead of continuing the throw, he twisted Kaelith’s wrist.
Kaelith’s entire posture changed.
His shoulder followed.
Then his torso.
Then, apparently because the alternative was allowing his wrist to bend somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t, the enormous hyena Beastman dropped to one knee.
Several Captains started talking at once.
"Did you see that?"
"He controlled the joint."
"But he didn’t force him down."
"No. He made standing painful."
Lucien released him immediately.
Kaelith rose, rotating his wrist. His red eyes practically glowed with excitement.
"That’s useful."
"Very," the General murmured.
They continued.
And Mirabelle became increasingly baffled.
She had expected them to struggle.
Instead, Beastmen apparently possessed such extraordinary awareness of their own bodies that once they understood the underlying concept, they began experimenting almost immediately.
Not perfectly.
Several attempts failed spectacularly.
Lucien tried to turn one of Kaelith’s charges and misjudged the angle badly enough that the hyena simply crashed into him.
Both went tumbling through the sand.
The Captains roared with laughter.
Another time, Kaelith attempted to manipulate Lucien’s elbow, only for the fox to slip free before he could establish control.
But every failure taught them something.
Their movements changed. They stopped thinking solely about striking.
Now they watched feet.
Hips.
Shoulders.
Weight.
They began noticing the tiny moments when the other committed himself to an attack.
Kaelith lunged.
Lucien turned.
A hand caught Kaelith’s wrist. Lucien stepped across his path His hips dropped.
And suddenly the hyenna went over his shoulder.
Mirabelle shot upright. Kaelith hit the sand with enough force that she felt the impact beneath her feet.
Dust exploded around them.
For one second, everyone was silent.
Then—
"BEAST GODDESS."
"Do that again!"
"More! I want to tyr it, too."
Kaelith sat up in the sand. His hair was full of dust. His expression was ecstatic.
Lucien looked equally stunned.
Mirabelle stared at them.
’How the hell are they already doing this?’
It had taken her weeks of repetition before some of those movements had felt remotely natural. Apparently superhuman reflexes, strength, balance, and body awareness made the learning curve somewhat different.
Kaelith climbed back to his feet.
This time, when they faced each other, the atmosphere changed.
Both understood the principle now.
The next exchange was faster. Lucien attacked. Kaelith avoided.
Lucien caught him.
Kaelith twisted free.
A leg hooked behind Lucien’s. Lucien shifted his weight before Kaelith could sweep it.
He pushed forward. Kaelith stepped aside and pulled.
Lucien stumbled past him, caught himself with one hand against the sand, used his tail to stabilize the sudden turn, and sprang upright again.
The Captains erupted. Now they weren’t merely watching. They were analyzing.
"Look at their feet!"
"He knew where the weight was going."
"That wouldn’t work against a bear."
"Why not?"
"Too heavy."
The General’s grin had returned.
Mirabelle could practically see twenty experienced soldiers rebuilding years of combat doctrine inside their heads.
Finally, Kaelith and Lucien separated.
Both were breathing heavily. Dust covered their clothes and skin. Lucien had sand in his hair. Kaelith had somehow acquired a streak of dirt across one cheek.
Neither looked remotely bothered.
The General stepped into the ring.
"Enough."
A disappointed noise came from several Captains.
Mirabelle almost laughed.
Twenty minutes ago, half of them had looked skeptical. Now they apparently wanted an entire afternoon of experimental throwing.
The General looked around the circle.
"Well?"
A pause.
Then someone spoke.
"We need to test it properly."
Another voice followed.
"Against different lineages."
"And different cultivation stages."
"Different weights."
"Different heights."
"Armed opponents."
"Multiple opponents."
The suggestions began coming faster.
The General listened to all of them. Then his gaze moved toward Mirabelle. There was something new in his expression.
Not merely respect.
Interest.
The dangerous kind of interest possessed by someone who had just been given an idea and intended to pull it apart until he understood every possible use for it.
Then the General turned toward the Duchess, who had been watching silently from the platform. He gave her a single nod before raising his voice so everyone could hear.
"The military approves."