Two days later, Sol was standing outside a second hand weapon store. He held the card Mercy had given him out in front of him. “Well this is the right place,” he said to himself.

It was in the southern district of New London; the furthest point from the main castle, and the poorest.

Sol had been getting cold feet about leaving his sisters. He told them that he had been offered a proper job as a nobleman's guard, and that he would be away for six months, but would be able to come back every two months. He knew they would be able to look after themselves; Mercy had given him an upfront payment to support them.

In truth, Sol was more nervous about where he was going. No one would care if he died, and he presumed that whatever tests or training he was going to be involved with was going to be dangerous. But what Mercy had said about getting revenge on Henry fuelled his determination.

He walked into the store to see an old female dwarf sipping on a warm drink. She peered over her glasses at him.

“What are you looking for darling?” she asked.

“Scarface,” Sol replied. It was what he was told to say.

“In the back. Mind the stairs.”

Sol walked through a doorway full of beads and into a storeroom. In the corner there was a curved staircase that was heading down. He followed the path and found himself in a room with ten others, all his age, dressed in tattered clothing like himself. Scarface was standing at the back of the room, and a disgruntled look came upon his face when he saw Sol.

The angry looking man walked over, barging past a few people. “You cost me a whole lot of coin,” he said.

“And that’s my fault?” Sol responded.

“I bet you wouldn’t come. That sly old man.” He spat on the ground violently in front of Sol.

A timer went off on his watch. “Alright, follow me,” Scarface said.

Sol wondered where Mercy was. Scarface was a complete asshole.

Scarface headed over to a black wall and placed his hand against it, causing mana to flow out from his hand. White runes flashed over the blank wall and it disappeared completely, revealing a circular room with black runes across the wall.

Scarface walked in, but turned around to see none of them had followed. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “If you hadn’t guessed already, step into the blood chamber.”

They all stepped onto the portal, and with a flash of light they disappeared.

It was strange experiencing teleportation for the first time. As soon as they flashed back into existence Sol collapsed onto his knees, throwing up a large portion of his breakfast. He glanced around to see the others on the ground too, all except Scarface. The bastard didn’t tell them what was going to happen.

“Pick yourselves up. This is the least of your worries,” Scarface said to the group.

They followed him down a hallway and into an even larger room, where there were hundreds of people standing around. There were races Sol hadn’t even seen before; people of all kinds of backgrounds. Some wore desert cloth, others wooly jackets, and almost all of them looked skinny like him. Some stood out like a sore thumb, with nice clothes, hair well kept, and their manner upright. Sol figured these must be the forgotten nobles.

All of them were herded to the front of the room. It was plain, nothing on the stone walls, and was clearly carved out by a mage. There were others like Scarface standing around the outside of the room.

At the front was a man much larger than Scarface, with huge muscles poking out of the large shirt he wore. He too had a shaved head, and he looked much more menacing.

The man cleared his throat and stood to attention. “You all have been chosen to join the Unwanted. You have been cast out from society; you are unwanted. There are three parts to the initial test to join. After that you will be trained in groups where you will learn.” he explained. His voice was extremely loud even though he was speaking normally.

“My alias is Boseman, and I will be overseeing the tests.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “20% of you will die, 60% will not make the cut, 10% will be offered administrative jobs, and the remaining 10% will be classified as Unwanted agents.” Boseman was completely unfazed by his words.

Goosebumps rose on Sol’s arm. ‘20% will die,’ he thought.

“As I said, the initial testing will have 3 parts. The second part will be physical tests, mental tests and magic tests. The third part will be a survival test,” Boseman said.

“And the first?” A fallen noblewomen asked timidly.

A grin spread on Boseman's face. He rubbed his hands together creating mana within them, and then clapped them together so strongly that a powerful soundwave was emitted. Sol collapsed onto one knee as he clutched his ears. He felt as though his ear drums were going to burst. As the sound wave stopped, Sol looked around. Almost everyone was on the floor clutching their ears. The Unwanted around the outside of the room remained where they were, standing tall. The only person in the group still standing was a beast of a man; he would later be known as Tower.

Sol barely managed to stand up. Many people were dead on the floor with pools of blood coming from their ears. Others were crying, bawling their eyes out.

“Right,” Boseman said with another much less impactful clap of his hands, “If you wish to continue, follow me.”

Roughly two hundred of the group followed Boseman into the next room; the others had backed out or died. Sol didn’t think twice about them; he had too much adrenaline pumping through him.

Over the next month and a half, the recruits were put through grueling physical tests. It was the fighting tests where the instructors would beat them black and blue with no healer or potions that were the worst. Sol couldn’t help but fall in love with it. He loved the work, the restless nights, the rigid routine. He was never much of a fighter, nor had he become an adventurer before, but he strangely enjoyed it. He didn’t know if it was because of his genetics or something else, but he felt as if it was what he needed.

Once these stages were complete, then came the mental and magical tests. They had told Sol he scored high in the mental, but had null for the magical test. The disease he was born with gave him no magical affinities; he could never gain basic active skills, only passive ones. This was a damper on Sol's scoring, but he still kept his head up high.

He returned home after two months, but had to leave two days later. His sisters were doing well, and he treated them to a day in New London. When he returned, the Unwanted started the survival tests on him. This involved monster killing, sparring, and weapons speciality. Sol adopted two daggers, and further increased his Dagger Mastery skill.

The month that followed was the same, and Sol began to grow muscles and in height, going from boy to man in a matter of weeks. It was much tougher than the first month, but he enjoyed every second of it.

In the third month the final test began. It was a two month excursion into a place they called the Cauldron. A hundred more people had dropped out or died during the process. Sol just powered through; he was determined to succeed. Becoming an Unwanted would secure his sisters’ futures, and he could take revenge on Henry.

The Cauldron was a vast area of dense forest, surrounded by huge mountains that acted as a wall. Monsters were released, and the recruits had to survive for two months with only their weapons.

Sol passed with flying colours, with the help of others he had teamed up with; Tower, Sharp, Spike and Mute. Other recruits were killing each other for food, and to group up increased survivability.

After the 2 months had passed, only twenty-eight people remained. Sol received the cloak which misted his face, and also an adventurer badge which doubled as an Unwanted one.

He sat in his room as he looked over the badge. He couldn’t believe he had done it. Even with his lack of active skills and affinity, he triumphed over those who had them. He held out his daggers and the mist mask.

Unwanted Mask- EPIC

This piece of cloth when thrown over your face will hide your facial features.

Indestructible

Durability: N/A

Magical Affinity: Dark

Soul Bound

Black Steel Dagger- RARE

One of a pair. These daggers when held together boosts Agility by +3

Resistant to Rust.

Black Steel bonus x2 to durability.

Durability: 148/152

Magical Affinity: None

Damage: 77

The daggers were curved towards the end, made for slicing ligaments or throats, and perfect for his fighting style. They shimmered every so often with black light.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Sol said.

Mercy walked in and Sol stood to attention. Mercy was one of the highest ranking in the Unwanted; he acted as a recruiter, trainer and mission planner.

“At ease Sol,” Mercy said as he sat down on a chair.

Sol eased his stance and waited for the man to speak.

“Two things I have to say. One is good. One is bad. Pick,” Mercy said.

“Bad, Sir,” Sol replied hesitantly.

Mercy waved his hand; he was not keen on formality. “The bad news; the overseers want you to acquire a skill, be it the weakest one. It seems pointless as you can compare to your peers in fighting capabilities, but as you progress further in level, the gap between will become greater and you will become weak.”

Sol didn’t know what to say; he couldn’t gain a skill.

“Is there a way?” he asked.

“We’ve never had someone with affinitous pass our tests; they often die or quit. Alas, there are three methods we can try depending on the severity of the disease. Skill books, monster cores and… we can discuss the other if it comes to it.”

“Will that work?” Sol asked. He knew how expensive skill books and monster cores were.

The man shrugged.

“And the good news?” Sol asked.

“Henry Murdoch. He has a compound in the Eastern Region, in the sand of all places.”

Sol’s blood boiled, but on the outside he remained calm. “Thank you Mercy, and for everything you have done for me. I promise I will not let you down.”

Mercy held his hand up. “Don’t make any promises. We do not operate on those.”

“Right Sir, efficient, hostile and without mercy.”

“Good lad. Return to your sisters for now. Since you are a fully fledged member, you have access to the blackmarket at will, restricted books, and of course the Unwanted Archive. I will contact you in a few days to see how we go about this.”

A tear almost fell from Sol’s eyes. It was all over now.

He shook Mercy’s hand and headed off to the teleporter. He still didn’t know where the main base exactly was, but it was underground somewhere, carved out by a mage. As he flashed back into New London, he waved a hand to the old dwarf behind the counter, and stepped out onto the streets.