When Tim had started his nightly exercises, he had noticed something. His body felt lighter and his movement more nimble. Was this the difference a single night of training made?

Sadly, this was not even remotely related to Tim's new increase in speed. The real culprit behind it all was his new awakened attribute, agility.

At first, Tim thought the ritual simply unlocked an ability, but it seems that the attribute bound to the awakened property gets a significant boost as well due to its increase in rank, meaning that he would be passively faster, without the prerequisite conditions of his ability.

Tim spent a large portion of the night trying to get used to his newfound speed, only being able to get it under wraps after a significantly long period of jumping jacks, among other activities.

Before he knew it, Tim had spent yet another night bouncing off the walls. As he continued to go about, unaware of the time, the door suddenly opened.

Appearing in the doorway was a flushed Mr. Gee, wearing yet another pair of robes, this time-stained in what looked to be vomit and another suspicious light-brown liquid.

"Mr. Hodgins. I believe it's about time you get some real experience." Mr. Gee said, perfectly hiding the fact that he was completely wasted. "I've talked a group of young fighters from the village into letting you join them on their next trip. You'll be accompanying them on a kill quest for some local monsters, and you'll be filling in for their missing member.

Tim was just starting to slow himself down when this bomb was dropped on him, but he had nothing to fear, as he was known for being quick on his head.

"Wha-" he could barely get out even a word before his concentration faltered and his body began to lag from his speed as he unceremoniously tripped over his own legs.

Under the expectant gaze of Mr. Gee, Tim got up off the ground with minimal effort.

"What?" Tim began. "Why all of a sudden?"

Mr. Gee responded instantly, almost as if he expected the question.

"You have been put through rituals at an abnormal pace, and while it may be unclear to me how your body is coming along, I think this arrangement is best to find out." Mr. Gee explained.

"What do you mean I've been progressing through rituals too quickly? Why didn't you stop me?" Tim asked.

"Well, I did tell you the stakes, but you insisted there was no other choice," he answered. "I didn't much feel like stopping you, as you took the first ritual quite well, despite its intensity."

Tim gave Mr. Gee a look.

"You were just hoping I would pass out like the first time so you could examine my body again, weren't you?"

Mr. Gee flinched.

"Come now, I wouldn't dare plot something like that." he lied.

"Can I at least get the rest of my abilities before going out to fight monsters?" Tim asked.

"No." Mr. Gee promptly answered. "The whole point of this experiment is to determine whether your body is able to handle the power it currently has before undergoing yet another ritual. If you do well on this simple kill quest, you will be allowed another ritual by the end of the week."

"That's all well and good, but you never told me just how long you're supposed to wait in between rituals," Tim said, prodding more information. "I wanna know how far I'm off course. If all I had to do was wait a few days in between, I would have understood, you know?"

Mr. Gee put his face in his hands and shook his head.

"Sheltered from the rest of the world. Right." Mr. Gee said. "The length of the talk I want to have with your parents is extreme."

Mr. Gee cleared his throat.

"In most sapient societies, if you want to acquire some sort of fighting occupation, you must undergo four awakening rituals." Mr. Gee explained. "An individual's first awakening ritual is available at age 16, and no younger. This is due to the strain of the ritual being too much for a child's body to handle. After undergoing an awakening ritual, it is widely accepted that one must wait a year before going through another. This goes back to the same reason you wouldn't let a child awaken. The fact that you are wholly unaffected baffles me."

"So you're saying you expected it to go wrong, but let me go through another awakening ritual anyway?" Tim asked with a bit of sass.

"It isn't my fault if you suffer a little boo-boo for your impatience." Mr. Gee said, mimicking Tim's own sassy tone.

"I guess you're right," Tim admitted casually.

"I know I'm right." Mr. Gee said in an arrogant tone. "Now get ready. You leave for the Fighters Building in two hours. I would recommend having your gear equipped beforehand. They won't wait for you."

"Sir yes sir!" Tim said dramatically.

Mr. Gee kept a strict face and took his leave.

Just as he closed the doors of the inn behind him, he began to retch into a nearby bush, coughing and gasping.

"Gods dammit." he cursed. "I don't know how on the Greats' round orb I managed to keep that in for as long as I did. Reminder to not mix sleeping herbs with booze."

***

Tim had taken Mr. Gee's advice and equipped all his gear before leaving, making sure to keep his dagger by his side, ready to be deployed at any given moment.

Garbed in his cobalt robe and ebony boots, Tim continued down the path Mr. Gee told him.

Soon enough, Tim spotted the large building made of stone and timber. It had a sign outside with an image of a fist. If this wasn't the Fighters Building, he didn't know what was. Tim took the time on the way there to simply think about what kind of person the owner was. Then it came to him that they were the type of person to think of a name like Fighters Building, so they can't be that interesting.

Huddled outside of the building was a group of four individuals garbed in various assortments of gear.

As Tim approached, one of the four walked right up to him.

"So you're the one Master Gee has been training." said an unfamiliar male voice.

In front of him was a muscular man with dark skin wearing a mix of tough leather and sturdy plate armor. The man loomed over him in what looked to be an attempt to intimidate him, but he couldn't really be sure. It could just be a tall guy greeting him. With a sword.

"The name's Orym." the man said. "What's yours?"

Tim thought for a moment, before deciding the man was being friendly after all.

"The name's Tim," he said, forgoing the mention of his last name.

"Unique name," Orym said. "I can definitely tell you're not a dark elf."

"You're saying the skin didn't do it?" Tim joked.

Orym gave a grin.

"So what's your thing?" he asked. "What are you bringing to the table?"

"Not much if I'm being honest," Tim said, provoking a look of confusion from Orym. "My only abilities have to do with eating if that tells you anything about me."

Orym gave Tim an analyzing look.

"I would have never taken you for a glutton with that skinny frame," he said. "So what are you, a magic chef?"

"Is that even possible?" Tim asked.

"So is that a no?" Orym asked.

Tim furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the brute in front.

"No, I am not a magical chef," he said with confidence.

"So what are you going to do when we find the monster?" Orym asked. "Whip up some magic cuisine that heals us or something?"

"I already told you I'm not a magical chef," Tim answered. "And I don't know what exactly I'll be doing to help the team. The old drunkard just kind of threw me into this without my knowing. I guess I'll just stab it 'til it dies."

"Stab it with what?" Orym asked. "A butter kni-"

In a split second, a whistle of air silenced the dark elf man. Right underneath Ormy's throat was an obsidian black dagger with a sense of danger about it.

"With this," Tim said before quickly putting his knife back in its sheathe.

Orym took a moment to register what exactly just happened before falling to the ground with a loud thud.

As all of this was happening, the other members of the group came running over to the two men, concerned.

"What's going on over here?" a female voice called out.

"Hera!" Orym said. "This guy is crazy fast!"

Tim was quite proud of himself despite the lack of thought put into the action and its potential consequences if gone wrong. While he knew he should not have done what he did, he now felt more confident in his abilities.

"Hey!" the woman now known as Hera sternly yelled. "I'm sure this oaf did something to provoke you, but we don't have time to be messing around like that."

The woman quickly turned to face the two behind her.

"That's Antony. He's our melee damage dealer," she said, pointing to a young man with a short frame, short hair, and a short sword.

"And that's Whitlow, but we call him Whit. He's our healer. Keep note that he can only heal you if he touches you, so if you need help, you go to him." she finished, pointing to a man at least half a decade older than the rest with unkempt hair and a mild-mannered aura about him. As he used his hands for helping his team, he wielded no weapon, not even a staff.

"Lastly, I'm Hera," she said, turning around to face Tim. "I'm our team's ranged damage dealer. I use this here bow to lay on the damage and hopefully, if I do my job right, I'll be setting up openings for you to do your thing."

Tim was pleasantly surprised to hear familiar terms from his videogames being used.

"Those are the introductions," Hera said. "Oh wait, I forgot this oaf."

"I already introduced myself, Hera." Orym whimpered.

"I bet you didn't tell him anything of importance, did you?" Hera accused.

He stayed silent.

"His name is Orym, and he's our tank. Well, he's actually trying to be a speed-type swordsman, but with his frame being on the bigger side, he's functioning as our tank, and will continue to do so for this mission." Hera said.

Tim nodded.

"Sounds good," he said. "I'm Tim, and I will function as your 'hit it 'til it dies' guy."

***

The group was outside of the village now and heading through the surrounding forest looking for their target.

Apparently, they were hunting a sort of squirrel creature called a Ratatoskr. Tim had heard mention of the creature back in his world. They were a squirrel creature in Norse mythology that ran up and down the world tree, Ygdrasil, to deliver messages between an eagle on the top of the tree, to a serpent beast named Nidhoggr at the bottom.

Tim wasn't sure what he was expecting a mythical squirrel creature to look like, but it definitely wasn't what he saw before him.

The creature in front of him was about a foot shorter than Tim, had green stripes on its otherwise brownish-hazel fur. What especially stood out, besides its intimidating size, was a sort of plant-like growth sprouting from all around the creature's body like vines.

"Orym. I want you initiating the attack by grabbing its attention with any means necessary." Hera ordered. "Antony and Tim. I want you guys to poke at it whenever you get the chance and when I give the signal, I want you to just rip into it with everything you've got. Whit, you know what to do. Heal us if you can, but if it's too dangerous, just stay back."

With their orders given out, Orym quickly initiated with a loud entrance, opening his mouth as an orange glow began to seep from out of him.

"Hey, you oversized rodent! Come on and show me what you've got!" he yelled.

Simple, but effective, the taunt caused the creature to approach Orym at a pace that one could only define as frenzying. With the squirrel's attention thoroughly taken by Orym, Tim found himself in a position to get a good stab in, so he did.

Lunging forward from a bush, Tim attempted to dig his dagger into the creature's flesh, only to be struck by one of its vine-like appendages.

Quickly getting up off the ground, Tim fell back to a safer position, successfully escaping the creature's oncoming barrage of vines.

Its vines quickly settled back around the creature after it found itself not being attacked from behind any longer.

With a better understanding of the danger the creature in front of him posed, Tim took his time analyzing the creature and formulating a plan of action for when an opening came.

Soon enough, that opening came in the form of an arrow hitting the creature on its unprotected side, resulting in a high-pitched chirp like yelp.

Seeing the opportunity, Tim went in for the kill alongside Antony, who was likewise going on the attack on the opposite side of the creature from Tim.

With swift slashes, Tim managed to make significant cuts on the creature's side, allowing massive amounts of blood to seep out of the massive rodent. Although Tim didn't have the precision to hit vital organs on purpose, he had the speed to counteract that, making up for the lack of strength in his slices with the sharpness of his blade and the consistency of the cuts.

Antony wasn't as fortunate in his assault, only getting a single good slice in before being launched back by the creature's vines.

As Tim noticed this, he began getting quite peeved off about said vines and proceeded to have at the fleshier-than-normal greens.

Cutting with only moderate effort, the tentacle-like plant appendages on the creature were quickly reduced to nothing but decorative shows of what used to be the creature's most dangerous weapon.

Now disarmed and bleeding out, the creature had little time left to live, that time being shortened ever further when Tim's dagger slid straight through the creature's skull, appearing on the other side of its head, bits of brain matter stuck to the blade.

Tim, now covered in blood, turned to face his comrades.

"So..." He said. "Who's carrying this thing?"