Out of the seven members of the Cobalt Rose Brotherhood, Schmitt was the only one who could pass off as a civilian. Masked underneath the black tuxedo that went well with his light blonde hair and auburn eyes, was a thin, wiry frame that concealed far more strength than what was visible on the surface. Apart from one scar that ran from the upper part of his torso to his navel, the rest of his skin was unblemished and gave no indication of the bloody lifestyle he was accustomed to.

As their group progressed deeper into the forest, he fiddled along making swiping gestures at the air, a movement that would make no sense back on their home planet without any care for the carnage around him. Flanked by his teammates at either side, with Second and Third at the helm and Sixth covering his rear, there really was no need to worry.

Third Brother, or Khan, as he was known by his closest associates, towered over the group standing at an impressive height of 6'4 with a muscular figure that bordered on bulky, but stopped just before crossing the line. Sporting his ever-present frown, his bald head glistening with sweat from the excursion and the scar across his left cheek all sent one clear message: this was not a man to be fucked around with.

With such a mental impression, one would imagine Khan to go shouting at the top of his lungs and cleaving through any being that dared to accept his challenge. However, the reality was even more surprising. Any goblin that stupidly rushed towards Khan with a heavy weapon, he would bash with his shield - using his heft and strength to momentarily disorient the creature. With his shield extended, a lethal strike to the neck was obscured by his own actions. Which would have been an issue if his intentions were to end the battle in a single exchange. Unfortunately for the goblin race, a clean downward swipe with his gladius would follow, lacerating one leg cleanly.

Other challengers perhaps, would find such tactics too cruel to bear. However to Khan, if the easiest way to end the battle was incapacitation, that was the course of action he would take and then ready himself for the next threat.

Second Brother, Nagai, was a man who believed in the importance of fundamentals and was the strongest bare-knuckle fighter in the group. While the value of martial arts was undoubtedly diminished in a world where firearms and explosives reigned king, they were still a great way of building focus, discipline, and control. Any goblin that charged at their group with a bladed weapon had to face him, and it wasn't much of a competition.

From the way Nagai held and wielded the one-handed dull blade in his hand, it was clear that the only practice he had with bladed weapons was with the standard military issue knife for both survival and emergency situations. However, when compared to the goblin’s frenzied and telegraphed movements that he could see coming from a mile away, he might as well be a master swordsman. A clean sidestep followed by a quick pivot and a backhanded slash, all done in one fluid motion is where his years of honing martial skills came in handy. The cut was more power than finesse, but from the slumped figure of the goblin, it was enough to serve its purpose.

Just as he moved to deal the goblin a deathblow, Schmitt’s voice echoed out from behind him, “It’s not your turn yet, Nagai”.

“Oh. Sorry little seventh, I lost count. By all means, go ahead”, Nagai replied sheepishly, having lost himself in the tempo of battle.

“Call me that again, and you’ll get the real battle you’ve been itching for all this while”, while Schmitt gave the aura of a man that would remain calm and composed regardless of the situation, it was with genuine irritation and a touch of humor that he responded. The formation, with Khan and Nagai at the forefront, First brother covering the rear, Fourth and Sixth to his left, and Fifth to his right was designed to have at least one point of interception before any threat made contact with Schmitt - It wasn’t perfect, and Schmitt was far from helpless, but each extra second that he had to think was a far more valuable asset than anything he could contribute on the battlefield, moved aside so that the struggling goblin was in the center, after which Schmitt gave it a deathblow with a small combat knife.

“Sure, sure whatever you say”, Nagai guffawed, choosing not to push the issue any further. “You want that cutlass?” he asked, referring to the weapon of the deceased goblin.

“I guess it’s better than that longsword”, said Schmitt with an audible sigh at being forced to utilize such primitive weaponry. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to get his hands on a Barrett M82, especially with the ample cover the forest provided. The goblin lord would be dead before dawn and he could go back to killing potential future dictators before they ever had a chance to consolidate their position. Of course, he had already checked the Essence shop for any ranged weapons, and there was no such luck.

“Alright, that’s enough mucking about. Nagai, the next wave should be here within 3 minutes. Get in position.” said Khan, in a bored, almost sleepy tone. If this was the best challenge the Tower of Glory could throw at them, then it was truly disappointing. But if Little seventh’s words were to be believed, then the real hell was yet to reveal its true nature. And Little seventh was many things, but wrong was not one of them.

Nagai mumbled a few words in mock annoyance but did as he was asked. Schmitt on the other hand took back his place in the center of the formation and was once again lost in his own world. From the moment he stepped into the tower of glory, he was working towards building a hypothesis. The first step was to assess the efficacy of the stat known as ‘Constitution’, before the rest of his hand could be played.

Nagai, being the first one in the group to reach level 2 was given the honor of investing 3 points into the constitution, and the remaining two into whatever stat he deemed useful. Schmitt had noticed that each of them had different base stat values at level 1, thus it was no surprise to him when Nagai’s dexterity was already at a base level of 4. From his observations, it was concluded that an increase in Constitution seemed to provide increased skin toughness- though at a fairly negligible level, and a slight boost towards eyesight and vision. Thus, at the initial levels, a bullet to the head would still be a lethal wound- reducing the skill’s desirability.

However, just because a stat point was relatively underwhelming at the initial stages, didn’t mean that surviving a bullet at point-blank range couldn’t be a possibility later on. Nagai, after listening to Schmitt’s advice agreed to focus primarily on dexterity and constitution in a 2:1 ratio, going for a balanced build.

Sixth Brother, Andino, stood at a modest height of 5’8 inches, however, his physique was anything but. His body was a perfect example of a natural physique, muscular yet, somewhat paradoxically lean at the same time without room for the slightest hint of fat. When it came to arm wrestling, not even Khan could last more than a minute on a good day. While there were far more muscular and stronger people out there, what separated Andino from the rest was that he had never used any foreign substances to increase muscle mass- only relying on the capabilities and limitations of the natural human body. An analysis that the system seemed to agree with, as he was only one of two in the group that was awarded a base stat of 5 (in strength).

Thus, when Schmitt, after ruling Constitution out for short-term benefits, told Andino to invest all his stat points into strength he didn’t hesitate for a second and eagerly awaited the results, his bushy mustache partly concealing the mischievous smirk behind it. Schmitt too, couldn’t help but reveal a slight grin at the ultimate glass cannon that Andino had the potential to become.

Fifth Brother, who simply went by Adam, his surname and past obscured by a veil of mystery that his companions only held limited privilege to peer behind. An ordinary-looking Caucasian man with unremarkable features and a muscular build that was concealed behind the specially crafted tuxedo, far looser in certain key areas to give the impression of a healthy, yet unimpressive build. Master of subterfuge, given the role and a day or two to prepare, he could easily play a variety of roles- from the clueless tourist exploring a foreign city, unbeknownst to whom the heads of the criminal underbelly were holding a meeting right across the road, to the ruthless businessman who was willing to cut deals with terrorists in order to remain competitive- all in a day’s work. A man who people only recalled when he wanted to leave an impression on them, an elusive ghost that no matter how far one would dig- no records would exist.

Of his own volition, Adam had taken the role of investing points in intelligence- with a base stat of four, there was no harm in trying to see what further investment in the field could yield. Though what happened next, was something that not even Schmitt- with a base intelligence of 5, could predict. The stoic Adam, who wouldn’t so much as twitch at a gun pointed to his forehead… cried. Or rather, tears poured out of his eyes as he still, barely, managed to maintain the same, placid expression that always seemed to be plastered to his face.

“Memory boost, not computational capacity.” he choked out in a raspy voice, offering no further explanation. The rest of the group veered their gazes away from Adam, and even if Schmitt had a thousand lives he wouldn’t dare press further. After all, Adam was not just the Master of Subterfuge, he was also a terrifying assassin who was a cornerstone of the reputation the Cobalt Rose Brotherhood had built up.

‘Adam of the Beginning, Master of the End’ was the moniker he had earned in certain circles, as he was the one in charge of clientele and business connections- A public face to the group that was shrouded in mystery. Well, as public as a heavily disguised face could be. Later on, it was revealed that he chose to go the Dexterity- Intelligence – and Constitution route, in a 2:2:1 ratio. For a man of his particular talents, it was easy to see why he was drawn towards the benefits intelligence offered, along with a few… personal benefits.

As for First Brother, Escalante, well Schmitt really didn’t know what to say about him. He was one of the few people who Schmitt couldn’t see through, mainly because the large, boorish man wore his emotions on his face and was as genuine as they come. The man who single-handedly brought this group of misfits together and shaped a force that would go down in the books of history was an innocent-looking Spanish man with a thin beard and a well-toned body.

He decided to invest in Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution on a need basis, initially putting points in constitution and dexterity. The ‘waves’ as Schmitt had termed them, as goblins only rushed at them in groups of two and three, and never two groups at the same time, were somewhat tiring, as they required a constant state of alertness- and the assault could come from any direction- but for a band of highly trained mercenaries, it was still a breeze. Though had they been a merry band of civilians, the outcome would’ve gone very differently, and they knew it. It was easy to talk bluster about teamwork and strategy, but whether that would hold up when an alien creature ran up to them with a sword to murder them was another matter. Anyway, the fact of the matter was that they had no guarantee that the goblins would continue to stick to the established presuppositions, and if/when all hell broke loose, a little extra spring in his step would serve him far greater than bigger muscles.

Khan, to no one’s surprise, elected to go the Strength+ Constitution route. It suited his new combat style, being able to take a few blows and then dish out the damage right back, having many a time expressed his gratitude to Schmitt for the shield he had got him. Not that they hadn’t looted more from slain goblins, but if nothing else, the man remembered his debts.

And lastly Schmitt, after compiling all the data from the others, did something fairly unexpected. One would imagine that with his preference for ranged weapons, he would invest heavily in dexterity, and use throwing knives or fashion a bow for his perusal. Instead, he invested every single bit of his stat points into wisdom after the initial testing was done and got a glimpse at the kind of possibilities the system really offered.

Eleven hours had passed since the beginning of the trial, and each member of the Cobalt Rose Brotherhood had reached level 3, some were bordering on the verge of level 4. That gave Schmitt 15 unassigned stat points to play around with, and once he was done assessing the effects of the wisdom stat, he dumped every single last one into it. The next minute was a bit hard to describe, but it felt as if he had been granted access to a new vision, allowing him to ‘understand’ the world in greater depth.

Schmitt, by all means, and parameters, was an intelligent man. However, intelligence in itself was just a dull blade, without the proper honing and refinement its luster would hardly be given a fair opportunity to shine. A practical example of this would be, that while Schmitt was fairly confident in his ability to read people, he would not dare to engage in a contest with Adam, who was a distinguished professional in the field. Or say a genius scientist, as accomplished as he may be in his field, might be a social recluse who rarely interacted with people. In such a case, no amount of intelligence would allow him to read the facial tics, body language, and tone accurately enough to gauge the speaker’s intention.

Tens of small observations and small bits of information that his subconscious mind had flagged as of minor importance, along with the catalog of items offered in the Essence Shop and the ‘access to unique rewards and paths to power’ the tower had offered, yet none were to be seen all collated together and gave Schmitt a brief glance towards the big picture. Suddenly, he stopped moving and turned his gaze eastward, at the massive aura of danger that assailed him from that direction.

At that moment, he knew where the big bad boss of this floor rested, and exactly the cards he would play to be the biggest victor of this trial. His crazy gamble had paid off, and from the ominous smirk on his face whatever he had planned didn't bode well for the rest of the challengers.