The shin bone in Ryu’s hand crunched into the skull of the wendigo. It shuddered, falling to the ground in a heap of dead matter. He looked to the next. It was a big fucker, larger even than his father… than Jinn had been. He shook his head, shrugging off the negative emotions. This big wendigo was a Boss, a monster that had grown to dominate its fellows in the area. In a Trial, these beasts served as a sort of measuring stick. If he beat the thing, he’d receive loot of some kind from the System. He’d get to move to the next part of the Trial. He’d get his Class. He’d start his path to killing-

A clawed arm swooped through the air where Ryu’s head had been. He clutched the shin bone in his hand, ignoring the stinging pain of the cut on the left side of his head. A restoration pill could fix that. It couldn’t fix a dead body, however. He had to focus.

The arm came through the air again. He needed to move, to run. The building anger in his chest ignored that. The bone in his hand came up, and with both hands, he tried to block the swipe. Thunderous strength sent him backing up, instead. The wendigo lowered its head, the great antlers on its stag head pointing at his abdomen. It charged. Ryu leaped.

He rolled to his feet on the wendigo’s left. It came to a stumbling stop. He had to back away, had to get space. He didn’t. The duelist in his mind screamed at his charging feet, but his body had learned the truth of this fight. It wasn’t a duel. There was no distance or swordplay. No fouls or rules. It was all about capitalizing on advantages in the most devastating way possible. He lowered his shoulder, throwing the off-balance wendigo to the ground.

Despite its logic-defying strength, the wendigo was ultimately a pile of bones. It was hefty, no doubt, but its weight was nowhere near a man of its size would be. When Ryu crashed into it, it was this lack of weight that caused him to follow the beast to the ground. An antler impaled the meat of his shoulder, and he let out a hiss of pain. The wendigo tried to move. He drove the shin bone down on its head. Its struggles became fiercer. He hit it harder. And then harder again. The antler popped out of his shoulder, eliciting a growl of pain. He seized the antler with a limp arm and pulled. The beast’s head came up. His club came down in his other hand. A clawed hand tore at his back. His vision narrowed, and his world rose and fell with the club in his hand.

The struggle stopped. Ryu’s ears almost seemed to pop, and his vision came back into focus. For a brief moment, he had such clarity. He felt the air on his skin, the rub of his clothes on his bare skin, and pleasant ground underneath his head. Then the pain arrived. It came like a cavalry charge, stampeding over his senses. It was a red horde running down his back in long gashes. It was a piercing lance in the space where his chest met his shoulder. It was a dull mutiny in his hands, his fingers refusing to release their grip on the shin bone.

A restoration pill. He needed one. He had one. In his… in his pocket. His sluggish mind did its best to whip his body into shape, and his hand slid under the padded robe he wore over his meager armor. It found the pocket sewn in there and the pill in that pocket. He slipped it into his mouth. A cherry flavor ran over his tongue. He swallowed. Energy burned through his body, almost overwhelming his mind. He felt his wounds start to heal, felt them scab and dry. All too soon, the energy stopped. Restoration pills were for stabilizing wounds, not healing them completely.

He managed to get to his knees, his eyes running over the spot where the wendigo’s corpse had been. It was gone to whatever realm the System took it before revival, but in its place was a large crystal. He crushed it immediately. A screen popped into existence.

Congratulations! You have met the Qi Requirements for a Basic Class. Please select one from the choices below. Choices are presented based on previous experiences, place of origin, and personality assessment.

Class Description Samurai Samurai were the military nobility of Old World Japan. Serving as a caste of warriors and officials, a Samurai follows a strict code of honor. This Class requires adherence to such a code. Do not fail. Do not falter. A Samurai conquers all. Warrior Unwavering. Powerful. The path of the warrior is one of blood and sweat. Reach the pinnacle of melee combat and learn the art of war. Reaver Blood, rage, and a disregard for one's own safety marks the way of a Reaver. Fists, spears, and axes are just tools; you are the weapon.

He clicked his tongue. Even in his muddled state, he knew his choice. Not that it was a hard one. He selected Samurai with a weary smile, only to be greeted by another screen.

Skill Use [Karuta Armor] Summons ephemeral armor to protect the user. Effect scales with the amount of Stamina used to power Skill. [Call Steed] Calls horse to carry and transport the user. Will disappear after one hour or light damage. Minor Stamina cost. [Rally] Upon use, the user's cry bestows a calming effect on the mind of nearby allies. Moderate Stamina cost.

A steed would be nice. If Ryu were a horseman, that was. Sadly, his riding skills were only passable. The same went for his leadership abilities. His path was violence, and it was one better walked alone. He chose [Karuta Armor]. The Skill seemed to slip into his mind, locking in like a piece in a puzzle.

He stood on trembling legs. He triggered his Skill for the first time, a bit of energy sapping from his muscles, and ephemeral white armor appeared around him. He knocked his fist against it. Solid. He smiled. He needed to gather his sword and his pack. It was time to move forward.

In reality, the Trial was relatively small. It took him a little more than a day’s walk to reach the second layer of the Trial. The change between the two was gradual, little more than a slight shift in the air. At first. Then came the snarls and the sound of beasts running through the vegetation around him. It was not distance that made the Trial long, he realized. Not in the typical way, at least. It was not measured in how long it took to walk the distance but in how long it took to fight through it.

One of the monster’s revealed itself. It stood on crouched legs, its long arms giving it an almost ape-like posture, but its face was that of a snarling wolf. It was smaller than a man with dense muscle rippling across its body. The two examined each other. It was a test, in a way. It snarled. Ryu postured. It snapped its teeth. He drew his blade. Apparently satisfied with what it saw, the monster moved.

Ryu’s boot caught the beast in the jaw. Its head snapped back, and his blade came down, aiming to split it in two like fire wood. The monster- a canind, he recalled- raised its arm to block. His sword hacked into the meat of the limb and left it a dangling piece of gristle. The canind snarled and snapped. He dodged, raising his sword to finish it-

Something crashed into his shoulder. A snarling, biting something. He felt teeth sink into his arm. Felt a claw scrape his leg. He remembered the wendigo, remembered the graceful movement of Haru’s sword dance. He was weak. His thumb jammed its way into the attacking beast’s eye, and it squealed. He gripped its face in his hand. It tried to pull away. He pulled back. It came off of him. He rolled on top of it, his sword cutting into him. Messy, amateur.

His blade parted the skin of the beast, and it died. He turned back to the other. It was gone, leaving only a trail of blood. He sighed. His Skill. His damn Skill. Why hadn’t he used it? Why was he such a mess-up? He had to be better. He would be.

Ryu couldn’t sleep that night. Not from the beasts, though they did skirt the outsides of the light casted by his small fire. He couldn’t sleep because of the restlessness in his heart. He’d been empty after the reveal of his true parentage. Hollow. He’d wanted to hate Haru at first, but he couldn’t. It was pointless. The man was an elephant, while he was an ant. Now, though… Well now, he had a Class. The gap didn’t seem so wide anymore. The void in his heart lessened. He wanted to fight. He wanted to get stronger, to kill Haru. To make it just him and Jinn once more. Strange, how one's world could flip so suddenly, but it was Haru's own motto that had changed his mind. Power made everything right.

He sighed, rolling over onto his side in his bedroll. A lump poked into his ribcage from underneath the cover. He rolled over onto his other side. The lump still pressed into him. He gritted his teeth, leaping from the bedroll and throwing it out of the way. A stick. A fucking stick. The rage seemed to leave him after a shaky exhale. Stupid. He raged at a stick and expected to kill a Master Class? What did he know of making something right? No, it was more likely Ryu would only make things worse. He scowled at the bedroll for a long minute. There would be no sleeping tonight.

The sun found Ryu wiping polish along his blade. His head pounded as if someone was beating him with a rubber mallet, and his eyes seemed to get heavier with every passing moment. But he was awake. Had been the whole night, regretfully. Would be for a bit longer, too. After all, the sun was up, so he rose with it. Today, he had a goal. Ryu Ishida would become stronger.