It had been four days since they arrived in Altherion.
Four days of waking up in silk sheets that felt like a lie. Four days of eating fruit that tasted too sweet. And four days of getting the absolute shit kicked out of them.
The novelty of the "Isekai Fantasy" had died around Day 2. Now, on the morning of Day 4, the reality was just pain.
Ren stood in the center of the training ring, his chest heaving. His flaxen hair—usually soft and neat like a storybook prince—was plastered to his forehead with sweat. His arms shook so bad he could hear his own bracelets rattling.
"Again," Sir Valdorn commanded.
The Knight Captain stood ten paces away, looking bored. "You are hesitating, Hero. You see the path, do you not?"
"I see it," Ren gasped, spitting a glob of saliva onto the white stone. "But my body... it won't keep up."
"Then force it," Valdorn said coldly. "The System is a tool. Break the safety lock."
Ren grit his teeth. He gripped the heavy ironwood practice sword. His Strength stat was still a pitiful 3. The sword felt like a lead pipe. But he couldn't stop.
He closed his eyes.
[PASSIVE SKILL: DIVINE GUIDANCE ACTIVATED]
It didn't feel cool. It felt like a fishhook snagging his navel and yanking him forward.
Ren snapped his eyes open. The world had lost its color. The blue sky, the white stone, the green trees—everything was a desaturated grey. Everything except the Lines.
A grid of burning gold superimposed itself over reality. It mapped the wind. It mapped the friction of the floor. It mapped the exact millisecond Valdorn would blink.
Step right. Torque hip 45 degrees. Upward slash.
The command wasn't a thought. It was an impulse. A violent, magnetic demand.
Ren's body moved before his brain gave permission. His muscles screamed as the skill hijacked his nervous system. He lunged.
SNAP.
Ren heard the sound inside his own ear—a wet pop in his right shoulder. A tendon tearing under the strain of moving faster than his stats allowed.
"FUCK!" Ren screamed, but he couldn't stop. The Line dragged him. He ducked under Valdorn's casual swing and twisted his body upward.
CLACK.
His wooden sword slammed into Valdorn's steel gauntlet. A perfect hit. A gap in the armor that shouldn't have been visible to a human eye.
"Good," Valdorn murmured.
But physics was a bitch.
The impact reverberated down the wooden sword. Ren's skinny arms couldn't absorb the shock. The recoil exploded in his elbow like a grenade. His grip failed instantly. The sword flew out of his hand, clattering across the courtyard, and Ren collapsed.
He hit the ground hard, curling into a ball, clutching his right arm. "Ghh... ahhh..."
"The path was perfect," Valdorn noted, walking over and looking down at the groaning boy. "Your execution, however, was garbage."
"My arm..." Ren wheezed, tears pricking his green-blue eyes. "It feels like it's on fire."
"It is," Valdorn said simply. "You are putting a dragon's engine inside a wooden cart, Ren. If you push the [Divine Guidance] too hard without the Strength to back it up, you will tear yourself apart."
Valdorn kicked the wooden sword back toward him. " Heal up. We go again in an hour."
Meanwhile, in the Royal Dungeon—repurposed as the "Stealth Course"—Day 4 was going poorly for Rika Aizawa.
"I hate this," she whimpered, pressing her back against the cold, slime-covered wall. "I want to go home. I want a latte. I want to burn these pajamas."
"Quiet," Toru Makabe hissed from the darkness. "You're gonna wake the puppy."
"Puppy?" Rika looked down the hallway.
Standing in the dim torchlight was a Blind-Hound. A massive, muscle-bound beast with no eyes, just giant, wet nostrils that flared as it sniffed for prey. It drooled a puddle of acid onto the stone floor.
"Objective: Reach the exit," the Instructor's voice echoed from the shadows. "Do not engage. Evade."
"Easy for him to say," Hinata muttered. The [Assassin] was already moving. He didn't turn invisible; he just... faded. His presence became a smudge, like dirt on a camera lens. He slipped past the beast without making a sound.
"Come on, Rika," Ayaka whispered. The [Saintess] was crouching behind a crate, looking worried. "You have to use the skill. Trust the System."
"I don't trust anything here!" Rika cried, her voice cracking.
The Blind-Hound's head snapped toward her. It snarled, exposing rows of dagger-like teeth. It launched itself down the hallway.
"Rika!" Ayaka screamed.
Panic flooded Rika's chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and threw her hands up, bracing for the bite.
[SKILL ACTIVATED: VEIL OF SILENCE]
The world went mute.
The sound of the beast's claws on the stone vanished. The sound of her own heartbeat stopped. A sensation like cold, thick oil poured over her skin. It numbed her nerves. It silenced her soul.
It felt lonely. Terrifyingly lonely. Like she had ceased to exist.
She opened her eyes. The Blind-Hound was inches from her face. It skidded to a halt, sniffing the air furiously. It looked right through her. To the beast, she was a ghost. A void in the air.
Rika stood there, trembling, tears streaming down her face. It can't see me. It can't hear me.
But the fear broke her concentration. The cold oil sensation slipped.
GASP.
She made a sound. Just a small intake of breath.
The Hound whipped around, snapping its jaws.
"LOOK OUT!"
A massive figure barreled out of the shadows. Tobias "Toby" Okoro, looking absolutely ridiculous with his giant pompadour and a squire's tunic that was two sizes too small for his muscles, shoulder-checked the wolf.
"HAVE AT YOU, FOUL CUR!" Toby yelled, raising a battered shield.
CRUNCH.
The beast bit into the shield, the impact driving Toby back two feet. "Indubitably... heavy!" Toby grunted, his knees buckling.
"Ayaka, heal him!" Hinata yelled, dragging Rika back by her collar.
Ayaka rushed forward, placing her hands on Toby's bleeding arm.
[SKILL ACTIVATED: HOLY MEND]
It wasn't a gentle glitter. The white light sizzled. Toby flinched as his skin knit itself back together rapidly.
"It itches!" Toby yelled. "By the Gods, it itches like a thousand mosquitoes!"
"Sorry!" Ayaka cried, pouring more mana into him.
Rika sat on the floor, watching them fight. She felt sick. Her [Veil of Silence] worked, but it felt like dying. For those few seconds, she wasn't Rika Aizawa. she was nothing.
That night, the mood in the boys' barracks was grim.
Daigo Shun was sitting shirtless on his bed, his massive back covered in purple bruises. He looked like he'd been hit by a truck.
"My blood feels like hot soup," Daigo groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "Every time I use [Iron Skin], I get heavy. Like, physically heavy. I tried to jump earlier and barely left the ground."
"At least you have defense," Toru mumbled, nursing his blistered fingers. "Fire magic is literally just holding a match until you throw it. My fingertips are numb."
Riku Kamishiro was in the corner, looking like a gremlin. His curly hair was a mess, and he was taking apart a mana-lamp with a small screwdriver he'd stolen.
"You guys are whining about recoil," Riku muttered. "But you're missing the point. We have mana. We have the System buffering the pain."
Riku looked up, his dark eyes serious. "I heard the guards talking again today. About the West Barracks."
The room went dead silent. Even Ren, who was icing his shoulder, sat up.
"Sora?" Ren asked.
"Yeah," Riku nodded. "Day 4 down there. Apparently, the Sergeant put the recruits through a 'Grappling Drill' in the mud pits. No weapons. Just hands."
Riku paused for effect. "They put the 'Rat'—that's what they call him—up against a Level 5 Infantryman. A guy with a Strength stat of 8. That's double a normal human."
"Jesus," Daigo winced. "Sora has a 3. He'd get snapped in half."
"That's what they thought," Riku said, a small, twisted grin forming on his face. "But apparently... Sora didn't fight him."
"What do you mean?"
"He let the guy grab him," Riku said softly. "Took a beating. Let the guy get close, get overconfident. And when the guy tried to choke him out... Sora jammed a handful of wet clay into the guy's nostrils and eyes."
Ren flinched.
"Suffocated him until he passed out," Riku finished. "No mana. No skills. Just dirt and leverage. The guards aren't laughing anymore. They said he looked bored while he did it."
Ren stared at his bandaged hands. He looked at the golden embroidery on his duvet.
While he was crying about a strained tendon in a palace, Sora was eating mud and blinding people just to see tomorrow.
"He's surviving," Ren whispered. "He's really doing it."
"He's pissed off," Riku corrected, snapping the lamp back together. "And if we don't catch up... he's going to leave us behind."
Ren lay back, staring at the ceiling. The pain in his shoulder throbbed, but it felt insignificant now.
Wait for me, Sora, Ren thought. Just wait a little longer.