The biggest difference between the four tutorials was group size. Those who chose easy were put in groups of 30; those who chose medium were put in groups of 10; those who chose hard were put in groups of 5; and those who chose extreme were put in groups of 3. Whenever someone in your group died, another would be cycled into your tutorial to keep the group size constant.

Giada Marino - Scholar - Intricacies of the System

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When questioned on the blood, Angela flinched and her face tightened into a grimace. “It was a giant hog. There were three of us, and it smashed John and Rob into pulp.” Her eyes abruptly glazed over, and she began to sob, precariously rocking on her bad foot.

Silas held her shoulders to stop her from falling. He wondered how she had escaped this monstrous hog with a limp, but that was a question for another time. Right now, his main concern was getting out of here before the hog strolled over.

He must have jinxed himself with the thought as a heartbeat later he heard a loud grunt at the edge of his earshot. Unnerved, he looked over in dismay and immediately spotted a boar larger than any other he had seen, only two heads shorter than him, grunting as it snuffled down the path Angela had taken.

“Fuck, shit,” she swore, tears giving way to fear as she looked about. “That’s one of the smaller ones. We’ve got to fight it,” she said in a thin, strained voice.

Silas blinked in confusion, his brow crinkling severely. What did she mean ‘one of the smaller ones’? Besides that, why did she insist on fighting it when they could just as easily run? He certainly wasn’t keen on facing such a monster. “No, let’s leave now!” he urged.

Just as the last word left his lips, the giant boar raised its snout, and its beady eyes honed in on them. It was totally still for a few seconds as if processing the sight, and Silas hoped it would be scared off by their numbers. But of course, as if just to spite him, the boar broke from its thoughts and bolted towards them, building up speed until it was barrelling through the forest, flattening any small trees and bushes in its way.

Hastily glancing at Mia and Angela, Silas saw them pale and panic. He grasped his spear with clammy hands and readied. He was terrified; he still wanted to run, but what good would it be against a monster as fast and furious as the wind.

Casting his head down, he saw that his hands were trembling, then he noticed his legs were also shaking, and finally he looked down and saw the ground itself was quaking. He heard the thunder then, the boar’s hooves drumming the ground to the beat of battle, its steps spluttering out dirt.

He focused on the boar until he was absorbed by it. Thunder boomed in his ears, but he could hear his heartbeat hammering from within. His surroundings seemed to freeze then disappear altogether until it was just him and the boar, just his spear and its curved tusks, just his bated breath and its panting rasps.

The boar was now twenty metres away, fifteen, ten, and then he felt his back getting shoved. He fell towards the raging, slobbering beast and barely caught himself from tripping in front of it. Frightened to face reality, he closed his eyes and jumped. It was his leap of faith.

His legs brushed against its prickly fur and then the thick muscle of its back. The force flipped him over and sent him plunging down. Landing face-first in the dirt, he spat out a mouthful and gagged on the aftertaste. His face felt like it had been crushed, and blood seeped out from his nose. Screaming in pain, he forced himself up with his spear and spun about to search for the monster. Although his vision was blurry, it was hard to miss it next to Angela, raising its head as she stabbed it. It gave a dreadful, bestial cry and suddenly took off, its curly tail between its legs.

He almost dropped his spear in relief at that, only to immediately re-tighten his grip as the boar turned and charged towards her, using the run-up to build speed. Thunder rumbled again. She tried to dodge by jumping over like he had, but her limp kept her grounded, and her expression turned to one of horror. The boar crashed into her legs and was instantly on her, impaling her with its tusks whilst chomping at her legs.

Her shrieks broke him out of his daze, and he realised he would be next, unless… Clenching his jaw to fight off the pain, he hobbled over to the occupied boar and thrust his spear into its thick neck. It grunted, and he pulled the spear out and thrust again. It twisted and struggled, but he kept puncturing it until the spear slipped out of his hands.

Clumsily grabbing for his axe, he tore it off his back and readied to strike until he realised something was off. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing blood across his face, he cleared his vision and looked down at the boar again. It was beyond dead.

Dropping his arms, he let his pain and fear and anger out with a massive chest-wracking sigh. As the seconds passed, his mind came down from the adrenaline peak and his senses gradually came back, although hazy with pain and exhaustion. Suddenly noticing shrill bawling in the backdrop of his mind, he followed it back to Angela.

She was quick to notice him as he stood over her, peering at the ghastly sight. “Kill me, kill me please,” she gasped. He walked away, igniting the last bits of energy in her. “You coward, kill me for fuck’s sake. I’m begging you.” Her voice was shrill and cracking from agony.

Picking up his spear, which now felt as heavy as an iron warhammer, he trudged back to her and drove the point through her throat. “I’m not a coward,” he mumbled under his breath. He stared at her as she jerked and juddered, then stilled. He stood there for a long moment, before he plodded away.

It was by chance he came across Mia. She was collapsed on the ground with her eyes rolled back, but there were a lack of wounds on her body. He could hardly think in his state of mind, nor did he particularly care to think at the moment so he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and walked on, dragging her through the dirt.

His mind matched the dusken light as it dimmed with each step, his armour pulling him down as before. Still, he stubbornly carried on until he couldn’t anymore. He dropped down unceremoniously, and his exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave crashing down on his consciousness.

****

Silas woke up to the morning sun with a blaring headache. Touching his forehead, he winced from the pain and simply lay there. It grew manageable with time, although he couldn’t tell how long, and he gradually recalled the events from the day prior. Eventually pushing himself up, he noticed two things: firstly, his body wasn’t sore despite the abuse it had gone through, no doubt because of the safe zone’s healing boost; secondly, Mia was nowhere to be seen. There was a long track in the mud from when he had dragged her, but it ended beside him.

His thoughts already in turmoil, he took his mind off her and set off to the freshwater spring. His grim reflection greeted him, breaking into swirls of colour as he stepped in naked, washing away the muck.

Clean, or at least cleaner, he went to the crates and picked up a new set of weapons and armour, choosing the same options as before as they had served him well so far. He had no interest in returning to the battle scene and fetching his old set as the thought alone made him queasy. Soon after, he sated his growling stomach with handfuls of berries, and then checked his status to see if he had levelled up.

Silas Wycliffe - 2 unassigned attribute points

Level 4

Mana: 59/59 (recovery rate: 0.15 per minute)

Strength: 13

Agility: 17

Constitution: 9

Arcana: 3

Perception: 22

He had levelled up twice. He supposed the big boar gave more experience than its smaller counterparts, and that he had gained experience from killing Angela. He sickened at the realisation he was a murderer, and he had to battle his mind to regain composure. His breathing quickened under tension, only slowly becoming even again.

Trying to take his mind off Angela, he focused on his attributes and put the points into strength and agility. He did this as strength made his blows more powerful and his armour more manageable, whereas his high agility was the reason he had avoided critical injuries so far.

Silas Wycliffe

Level 4

Mana: 59/59 (recovery rate: 0.15 per minute)

Strength: 14

Agility: 18

Constitution: 9

Arcana: 3

Perception: 22

Distracted, he didn’t pay attention to the rustling behind him. As such, he was caught off guard when arms wrapped around him, a welcoming warmth from his back. Peering over his shoulder, he saw Mia smiling as their eyes met. They stood wordless for a period before she let go and he turned around, wiping the berry juices off his hands.

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said tonelessly. He studied her expression as he was suspicious of her: someone had shoved him towards the boar like some sort of expendable meat shield, and he recalled Mia had telekinetic powers.

She shrugged with a faux-pout. “I woke up with my legs coated in muck, almost as if someone had dragged me through hell and beyond. I had to wash myself when I realised that was exactly what had happened.” She appeared none the wiser over his suspicions as she grinned. “Thanks for hauling me back, by the way, even if you were a bit rough.”

He tipped his head mutely. While her cheer was disarming, he refused to release his suspicions of her until he could be certain. “What happened there at the battle?” he asked. “I found you unconscious.”

Her face fell, and he knew he had her.