Isabelle led Alex to the guild courtyard, where they found Berin already awaiting them.

“Hi again. I thought I’d better stick around in case there were any injuries.”

Isabelle shot the healer a glare. “Why the hell would I injure him on his first day? Beyond a little HP damage, that is.”

HP damage? Sounds like injury to me.

Berin shrugged and conceded the point. Alex realised he was probably inviting the assumption, standing as uncomfortably as he was with his shitty club by his side, wearing his new leather armour. He’d even put that hideous coif back on. It had actually been frustrating to walk to the courtyard wearing his new gear, as the unfamiliar weight had thrown him off and his stupid cloth pants felt like they might be chafing.

Their end of the courtyard was largely empty, with the flame mage and archer from earlier having both retired elsewhere. Two fighters with ethereal swords clashed down the other side of the area, practicing what looked to be some sort of routine duel.

“Hit the dummy.” Isabelle’s command broke Alex out of his bad-pants pity-party. She was pointing at one of the straw dummies he’d seen the fire mage roasting earlier, right near where they were standing.

Well, I guess this is training, then.

Alex nodded, lifted his club, walked over to the dummy, and swung it like a baseball bat right at the head. The club thonked against the dummy’s head, then recoiled slightly as the glyph on its chest glowed, throwing Alex off balance.

Isabelle looked at Berin and shrugged. “Not bad. Awful form, but at least he aimed for the head. Lit up the glyphs a bit – prolly would’ve knocked a goblin out.”

Alex glowed at the praise, lifting his club to rest it on his shoulder.

Wait – they have goblins here?

“A blind level one goblin who didn’t move out of the way,” Berin interjected, his gentle voice conveying the sentiment not with cruelty but rather apology, somehow. It still stung a bit.

Isabelle began to rattle out tips on his form: where to plant his feet, how not to over-swing or over-extend, how to spot spellcasters and brace against arrows. Most of the rogue’s advice was defensive, and Berin assured him that the three of them would remain together on the first delve. In fact, it was likely that others would join them as well, as a part of what was called the ‘ranging party’. One of the objectives would be to get Alex to level five.

After an hour or so of tips and dummy-hitting, the training got a little more hands-on, which is to say that Isabelle began throwing knives at him.

[Phantom Knives], to be precise. After her intonation of the skill, Isabelle’s aura had extended and solidified into a shadowy blade in her hand.

“Dodge.” She lobbed the blade lightly at Alex, who leapt to the side. He found himself shocked by the speed of his reflexes, which seemed better than they’d ever been. The knife hadn’t been going fast, but he doubted he’d have been able to pull of that dodge pre-rebirth.

I guess that’d be the bonus point in DEX.

“Good.” Alex watched as the blade he’d dodged evaporated on the ground next to him and streamed as an aura mist back into Isabelle’s hand, where it resolidified.

“Again.” This time the knife was thrown a little harder, a little faster. Alex threw himself backward to the ground, and the knife soared over his head, already dissipating to mist the moment it missed. He was too preoccupied tracking the resulting mist to notice that a second knife was already in the air, and it slammed into his thigh.

“I can make multiple knives,” the rogue stated bluntly.

“AHHH!” Alex exclaimed. That hurt! The knife was embedded at least a couple centimetres, having punched through his leather thigh-plate. “What the fuck!?”

“Isabelle!” Berin yelled almost simultaneously.

The rogue paused and looked over at the healer. “What? I doubt that took much HP. Even if he’s zeroed, you can just fix him.”

“My leg!” Alex screamed at her, half in shock and half in anger.

Berin sighed. “The armour is new, and I’m not an armourer.”

“Oops. Good point.”

Alex sucked air in through gritted teeth. Even Berin didn’t seem to care. Was he missing something?

“Well?” he asked, “are you going to heal me, then?”

Berin and Isabelle both gave him an odd look before Berin spoke. “Your HP is already empty? What’s your CON? Like, five?”

Alex checked his mental interface. His HP was sitting at 84/120. He frowned.

“Just pull it out, dummy,” added Isabelle.

Alex gripped the shadowy knife in his thigh, noting its cold-steel texture as he did, and, hesitantly, gave it a yank. To his shock, it slid out bloodlessly and the wound in his leg sealed itself afterwards. He noticed his HP drop another three points as he did so; down to 81/120. The knife began to dissipate and flow back to Isabelle the moment it left his thigh.

It looked like training was going to be a bit less fun and a bit more painful than he’d anticipated. Alex looked over at Berin, confused. “Is this regeneration one of your skills? I don’t remember you saying anything about it.”

The healer just laughed. “Almost forgot you don’t know anything. No wonder you were so shocked! Sorry, kid.” He waved his hand, as if what he was saying was obvious. “Your physical body won’t take any real damage until your soul is out of HP to protect you. It’s one of the biggest advantages of being reborn. Your soul uses your HP to keep your body together. You might also want to check your SP, since you clearly haven’t been paying attention to it.”

Alex did – it was sitting at 56/70. “It’s gone down!” He was a little surprised.

“Of course it has,” the healer patiently explained as Isabelle tapped a newly-formed spectral knife impatiently on her sleeve. “You’ve been running around smacking things for over an hour and you seem pretty unfit. You won’t tire until it runs out, though.”

“And what about my MP?” Alex asked, unsure what to expect. “It hasn’t dropped at all.” Indeed, his MP sat comfortably at 150/150.

“Huh. We haven’t been doing anything mentally demanding, but even then, you must have high INT. MP keeps your mind intact, which is important when using a lot of mage skills and interacting with the glyphs. Running out of MP too often is a recipe for madness… or worse.”

Alex squinted at Berin as he poked around curiously at his leg. The wound didn’t feel like it had healed, more as if it had never been there. “Why did you say INT just then? Isn’t MP based off my WIS?”

Berin nodded. “To an extent STR, DEX, and INT can determine how efficient and flexible you are with the resources given by your CON, END, and WIS. Think of the first as the applications of the second. Someone with high STR can block better to prevent HP loss, someone with high DEX can move more nimbly to conserve SP, and someone with high INT can manipulate aura skills more effectively. That’s why it’s good to focus on your strongest stats.”

“But my strongest stats are INT and WIS, and I don’t know any skills to use with them!” This world seemed a bit unfair to mage classes in that regard – from what Alex had worked out, he wouldn’t have a skill or a class until floor five of his first delve. And he couldn’t math monsters to death in the meanwhile.

“Dodge.” Isabelle was getting bored, clearly, and the command was apparently also her answer to the question he’d asked. Fearing pain, Alex rolled to the side immediately, still on the ground. He didn’t roll fast enough, and the spectral knife thunked into his shoulder.

“What happens if a knife hits my head!?” he half-stated, half-shouted at the rogue as he winced and went to pull it out.

“Soul keeps everything working until your HP hits zero.” Isabelle gestured at the knife in his shoulder. “It’ll drain pretty quick if you leave something sticking out of somewhere important, though. And it’s tricky, but a wide enough blade can sever limbs for good. Even Berin here might have a tough time reattaching them.”

Berin rolled his eyes. “This isn’t the capital. I can’t reattach limbs.”

Alex leapt backward as another knife embedded itself in the dirt in front of him before disappearing. It was going to be a long training session.

It was an hour or two later when Alex noticed his SP had run out. He kept dodging for another minute or two but had almost immediately begun to sweat and pant. Berin noticed the change and called a stop to the training.

“No,” panted Alex. His HP was still at 28/120, and he wasn’t a quitter. “Let me keep trying. I’ll build up my body. I might be out of SP, but I’m not out of stamina!” Isabelle had dreamt up a wide range of exercises, and some of them had actually been useful. He could dodge a slow-thrown knife nine times out of ten now, and he felt his situational awareness had at least marginally improved.

Berin snorted, then reached out and activated [Lesser Restoration] with a mutter. As he laid a hand on the Alex’s shoulder, Berin watched as his mana points decreased slightly. The golden energy flowed out of him, and he saw hints of sky-blue and gold in the boy’s otherwise clear aura. That was odd, he thought to himself. Aura’s usually didn’t have much character at level zero. Nonetheless, he allowed healing energy to flow until Alex’s aura was around half-restored. The boy’s CON seemed about average, maybe a little above.

This all raised some questions for Berin. “Two things. First – did you leave the zeroth floor with a skill? Your aura seems like you might have. Second – the type of training you’re talking about is impossible.”

Alex ignored the first question entirely. He was keeping his truesight to himself. Plus, he was caught up on the second. “What? Why?”

“Your soul,” replied the healer, “is the blueprint for your body. It fights changes and will use your HP, MP, and SP to do so. For a reborn, the only way to grow your muscles or body is to find items which grant point bonuses. And trust me – those are very rare. Otherwise, your body just resets to the state matching your soul.”

Alex nodded slowly. He’d already been told that stat points were difficult to change. But now he was understanding why people took the zeroth-floor challenge so seriously. It locked you in to a soul matching your performance. Possibly forever.

Shit. Well, I hope END and LCK aren’t that important. Speaking of which… “What does LCK do?”

Isabelle snorted. “The Gambler added it during his ascension surge three centuries ago. The Architect was reputedly so upset that he vetoed every divine decision for the next decade.”

Alex had more questions about the gods, but he waited for Isabelle to continue. This answer was important.

“LCK is different to the other six stats. Higher LCK actually impacts the ability of reborn and creatures around you. A reborn with high DEX might slip up against a reborn with high LCK. Or a creature that shoots spines or spits acid will miss more often. It tips the odds in your favour. Oh – and it impacts the quality of loot you find. It's a damn unfair stat.” She grinned. "Good thing mine is high!"

“What!?” Alex’s blood actually ran cold. He’d given up on self-preservation already, but now he was being told that he’d find bad loot?!

Nononono…

“Uh oh. You’re not one of the ones with zero luck, are you?”

Alex stayed very quiet. Isabelle seemed to take his response as an affirmative, having gathered by now that he wasn’t comfortable sharing his stats.

“Huh. Weird. There are actually more with zero in LCK than zero in anything else, and they’re usually cowardly types.” She paused, looking at Alex. “Most wouldn’t have agreed with my training methods.”

Alex could only blink blankly in response. The strange restriction on communication about his challenge still persisted.

Cowards, or people who can do maths?

“Well. Not always cowards. It’s not exactly common but I suspect it happens more than you’d expect. You’ll probably just end up having to buy good gear at a premium or stay huddled behind a good party. I’ve even heard of people with zero LCK who made it past floor thirty!”

Yeah, hardly encouraging. This Linosa place is neat, but it’s clear that it’s a backwater. If this is an RPG, then I’m the main character, dammit. Floor one-hundred or bust.

Fuck. This won’t do at all. I need epic loot!

After confirming his interpretation with a few equally depressing answers, Berin and Isabelle led Alex inside. It was almost evening, and he was famished. Apparently, food, sleep, and proximity to an obelisk would boost his point regeneration rates significantly, and there was more training to do tomorrow.

Alright. I’ll sleep early, rise early, then see what I can buy with this emerald before my last day of training.

It was late at night, and the autumn suns had finally set on Misceteria. That was important because Eliza had been waiting until it was dark. The guildmistress had given her a task, and she was determined to fulfill it not just because the boss was frightening as all hell, but because it was in her nature to be curious.

It had bothered her that the new young man had seen her [Lesser Diviniation] this morning. She hadn’t even noticed, but Eleanor had dropped the fact in an attempt to embarrass her in their meeting that afternoon. She couldn’t wait until there was a new guild head. But Eleanor had only been here for just under a year, so Eliza was likely stuck with her for at least a couple more. At least she wasn’t as bad as the mayor.

The stranger had introduced himself as Alex over dinner, where Eliza and other curious guilders had quizzed him. He’d had a lot of questions, but they’d had even more. The stories he told of his home world sounded incredible, but frankly fantastical. She and a couple of others were fairly sure that his ravings were simply a result of the zeroth-floor challenge. Lasting mental damage wasn’t uncommon, even if this case was a little weird.

Well, he would be asleep now. The chances of a level-zero noticing her probes while awake were already miniscule; but asleep? She would be fine. The guildmistress wanted to know the boy’s numbers, and the mayor was apparently also curious. It wouldn’t be the first time Eliza had done this sort of work, both for Eleanor and her predecessor. Poor Arami had always been far more tolerant of her indiscretions, but there was a reason that Eleanor kept her around too.

She shivered as she walked down the corridor towards Alex’s room. Arami had been torn apart by a pack of steelfang hounds despite being over ten levels higher than any one of them. Likely with the intelligent direction of something on a lower floor, they’d snuck into the obelisk chamber and ambushed the support team she’d been in. Others described what Arami had done as a sacrifice, but it had been kill-or-be-killed. If those hounds had seized the obelisk, the consequences would have been incalculable.

Arami had taken down five of them; leaving the five in the remaining support team to pool their few offensive skills and kill off the remaining two. That had been Lisona’s worst solstice in years, and Edrick had been in a state when he returned to the obelisk chamber with one of the ranging teams.

The guild had sent Eleanor as a replacement the next month, and she seemed even higher level than Arami had been. After being issued some choice threats on day one, Eliza had never dared to check.

As she approached the stranger’s bedroom door, Eliza froze. It was opening! The door creaked slowly in the darkness, swinging open at glacial pace.

There was nowhere nearby to hide, so after a second of thought, Eliza decided to keep walking. She could always lie if the boy asked why she was out here. She lived here, after all. Just so long as it wasn’t one of the other guilders. Eliza had a reputation for snooping and being seen here this late at night wouldn’t help at all.

It was probably just the wind. The door had opened, but no one had gone in or come out. She paused in front of it, moonlight shining in from the window behind her. In the dim light, she stepped through the open door and peered around the room. The young man was still in bed, his blanket rising and falling over his simple straw mattress. Asleep? Then what had—

“Hmmmmm. This is convenient.” The sound of a man’s deep voice in the darkest corner of the room sent a shock through her body. Her gaze jerked violently toward the corner but caught nothing. Was someone invisible in here? A skill? Trembling, she whispered a skill of her own – “[Aura Sight]”. It had been her fifteenth-floor choice of reward, and typical of her [Diviner] class progression.

She still saw nothing. Nevertheless, she moved to slowly back out of the room. And felt someone standing at her back.

“Diviners are always such a drag. So very convenient. [Silence].”

Eliza spun toward the voice, stumbling away from it and back into the boy’s room. She fell backwards onto the floor and began scrambling back. Standing in the doorframe was the silhouette of a man surrounded by a misty-grey fog of an aura. His body was invisible such that to her sight skill, the man seemed to be made from pure aura.

She screamed. No sound came out, even as she felt her vocal cords straining. She tried to use [Scry], as if that would even help. Her best skill didn’t work.

The shadowy man lifted something. A wooden club?

“Sorry,” he said. “I usually prefer my own skills, but the opportunity here is too good to pass up. This is going to be pretty painful, I’m afraid.” He brought the club high above his head as Eliza scrabbled back across the floor of the room, futilely attempting to scream. “Seventeen, by the way. His highest score is seventeen. Pretty good, huh! You weren’t the only one who got curious.”

Then the shadowy figure began to hammer the club down on the cowering diviner’s head.

As it turned out, there were lot of noises which Alex had taken for granted. Animals chirping. The background hubbub of the town out the window, even at night. The wind. But right now, there was nothing.

Alex woke to the sound of silence. Not the Simon and Garfunkel song, but rather a conspicuous absence of sound. He’d always been a light sleeper, and he’d gone to bed in the early evening. His body clock, thoroughly ruined, had been ready to wake him at the slightest disturbance… or lack of one.

He rolled over on the uncomfortable straw mattress, wearing the robe he’d discarded earlier as pyjamas. His armour was strewn on the floor – some things would never change from his habits on Earth. He was about to sit up and look around when he caught sight of the figure moving across the room, past the end of his bed.

A man wearing black stood, surrounded by a misty grey aura, swinging Alex’s own club at something on the floor. From his angle lying down, Alex couldn’t quite make out what it was. From the way that the man was angling his shots, it looked like it might be another person.

“Huh?” he tried to ask. No sound came out of his mouth. His breathing began to speed up as his heart started pumping through his chest.

What the—? Is this sleep paralysis? A nightmare? Stay calm, stay calm.

He wiggled a foot under the covers. Then blinked slowly. Nope I’m awake. Oh fuck.

The room was bright, but Alex knew that natural light was low. He could feel his enhanced eyes were compensating for him. He had a similar sensation when he looked at the man swinging the club.

Is he meant to be… invisible? He looks less tangible somehow.

And then blood began silently flying from whatever the man was pounding, and Alex froze up under the covers.

Oh fuck.

Involuntarily this time, he screamed and quivered. No sound came out. The man seemed to notice Alex as he shifted under the blanket, and turned to regard him. The stranger in black smiled, and suddenly, sound rushed back into the room. As Alex continued to scream, audibly now, the man brought the club down with a single, final-sounding thud. A burst of blood added to the significant volume already running down the adjacent wall.

Then he smiled, tossed the bloody club onto Alex’s bed, and walked casually out of the room.

The first guilders began to arrive at the scene of Eliza’s murder within the minute.