"Again!"

Rupert and Veronica each held shortswords. Obviously, Veronica had a larger advantage due to having a physical class. Though she held the advantage, that wasn't the point of this fight. The point was to practice their newly learned sword moves. Neither was trying to kill the other, only exploit their flaws so they may patch those flaws up.

Rupert ran forward, shortsword in his right hand. He was very coordinated with his attacks. He planned dozens of steps ahead in the fight. It was like a game of chess for him, a zero-sum game.

If I attack this way, it opens me up to this. If I do that, then she can counter with something else...

The moves were constantly being updated and planned for. He had his brain on overload just to not get hit. Nothing was instinctual for him and none of his moves had conviction behind them. Every strike of his left a way out, a way to change tactics at the tip of a hat; ripe for exploitation.

Veronica used that to her advantage. She never projected her moves in advance, always feeling out the fight and using her newly gained instincts. She had little experience with her fighting style but rapidly gained skill and fluidity with no signs of a bottleneck.

According to their instructor, working hard enough at something was the way to get skills from the almighty system. It was through this exercise that they both aimed to get the [Close Combat] passive that gives a percentage boost when using any short-ranged weapons.

Their instructor said that it was the first passive given to those who fought using short-ranged and was a must-have for everyone. In Veronica's case, it was her main form of combat. For Rupert, it was only a bonus to his protection when enemies got too close.

"Good! Veronica, speed up a bit to put pressure on him. Rupert, try to rely a bit more on your gut reactions. Enemies won't leave you time to think and plan. They'll slice into you regardless of how many steps ahead you are. Thinking ahead is great for magic, but right now we are on swords. Focus!"

Rupert could only grunt as he felt the increased pressure from his wife. He didn't like fighting her one bit. Not only was she very strong, but the thought of hitting her didn't sit right in his stomach. He reluctantly engaged in it only for their combined safety.

If he hadn't fought her, they would have found someone else to replace him. The thought of someone else hitting his wife sat even worse with him. He might as well acquiesce and be as careful as possible.

His wife clearly didn't get the vibes he was putting out there when she hit him atop the head with the training sword, hard. His skull vibrated and rattled his brain for a second, completely disorienting him and sending him to the ground.

"Yes!"

Veronica's shout came through clear even though his vision was still a little blurry. He forced his pounding head to mutter out a few words.

"Did you get it?"

"Yep! [Close Combat]. It gives me a 2 percent increase when engaging an enemy in close combat. Neat! Want to fight again?"

Rupert held his hand up. He was done.

"I can't keep going. My vision is still spinning after that last hit."

"Oh! Sorry about that. I got a bit carried away. I felt something when I was about to get the skill. It was like an invisible hand touched my heart, and then suddenly I got it!"

The instructor walked over. He was a short and stout man. His beard was patchy just like his hair. Every muscle on his body was extremely well defined like he was some kind of museum statue. Neither had caught his name, just calling him 'The Instructor.'

The Instructor didn't specialize in swords, choosing a pole as his weapon. And according to Yual, he was the most experienced when it came to close combat and its associated passives.

"Great work Veronica. Rupert, I'm a bit disappointed you didn't get it at the same time, but as a mage, you have a natural disadvantage. You both have made excellent progress."

He reached his hand out for Rupert to grab, pulling him up from the ground. Veronica helped him stabilize a bit since he was still a bit fuzzy.

" I think you are good enough to be lumped in with the other recruits."

"Other recruits?" They spoke in unison.

"Yes indeed, the people new to the Harbingers. Usually, people have a few years of training under their belt before finding out about us and joining. Quite reasonably, they know a bit more about the system than you. Though that won't be a problem shortly. All you need to worry about is focusing on your path forward and you will do great. Now go get some rest, real classes start in a week."

Rupert and Veronica skirted off to their room. They shared one medium-sized room, sleeping in the same warm and comfy bed. It wasn't magical, but after spending a week in the forest, and 12 weeks in prison, it made them feel safe and secure.

Just as the two had walked off, The Instructor's shadow flickered. After a moment, Yual walked out of it. He no longer had the inky blackness covering his body, looking like a normal man. He wasn't in combat, so all his powerful skills were put to rest and his gear was put away.

"How are our two champions?"

The Instructor sighed. It pained him to watch the two train.

"They are fucking monsters. Especially the girl. She got the passive after a week of focused practice. It took me years of near-suicidal bloodthirsty combat to get that measly 2 percent. Years! They make me look like a fumbling toddler."

Yual laughed. He already knew how monstrous they would be; else the rest of the world wouldn't hunt them like they do.

"Make sure to put them in the genius class, but tell them they are starting in the beginner class. I want to see just how fast those two can hit level ten."

"Ten? I think we will break them before level 5. They are soft, unburdened by the threats this world poses to every creature on its surface and below it. They obviously hadn't fought anything before and clearly don't have the sadistic nature that most Otherworlders get."

Yual just smiled a creepy smile.

"In due time my friend; all in due time."

Yual then faded into the shadows, like mist in the wind. His particles scattered like dust blowing away, fusing with the many parts of an object's shadow; the new skill he learned from his summon.

With his master gone and no new students to teach, The Instructor disappeared into thin air as well; accompanied by a puff of smoke.

---------

[Veronica Vance: Lvl 2 || Xp: 45/100]

[Class: Warrior]

[Hp: 110]

[Mp: 110]

[Strength: 11]

[Agility: 9]

[Intellegence: 11]

[Skills: \Slash lvl 1\ \Tank Shot lvl 1\ \Distract lvl 1\ ]

[Passive: \Warriro Apprentice lvl 1\ \Close Combat lvl1\ ]

[Items: Iron Sword, Iron Chestplate]

[Rupert Vance: Lvl 2 || Xp: 12/100]

[Class: Mage]

[Title: Gifted of the system]

[Hp: 70]

[Mp: 480]

[Strength: 7]

[Agility: 5]

[Intellegence: 24]

[Skills: \Wind Blade lvl 1 \ \Heal Wound lvl 1\ \Empower lvl 1\ ]

[Passives: \Mana Genius\ \Magic Apprentice lvl 1\ ]

[Items: Staff Wood Wand, Mage Robe]

Veronica looked at her status, admiring her new passive. Rupert just continued rubbing his head.

"I can't believe I got it so quick! I must be some kind of genius!"

Rupert put on a smile and kissed her.

"You are indeed my sweet genius wife."

They laid on the bed together and rested from the long day of training. It was hard for the two of them as something they never had done before.

Every day since Veronica got the passive, he had used every scrap of mana whenever possible to cast his healing skill [Heal Wound]. The level next to the skill clearly meant they could do something more.

I can never be as strong as her. I can never be the muscular man she wants me to be. All I can be is the nerdy engineer I am. I must do better; for her. I won't let her face the dangers of this would alone.

The first day was rough, Rupert initially thought that using his [Heal Wound] skill wouldn't be a problem. [Wind Blade] could just be summoned and fired at empty space and [Empower] only had positive effects. That lead to his discovery that he needed to be injured to use [Heal Wound]. With this knowledge, he steeled himself, knowing what he must do.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Rupert held the knife in his hand. It was serrated steel, able to rip through his flesh like butter. He placed the razor-sharp blade edge against his skin, knowing that even the slightest pressure would injure him.

I can't.

Rupert threw the knife on the ground.

What am I doing? Cutting myself?

That was the moment that he looked up. Through the trees separating two sections of the field, he saw Veronica and The Instructor. The two of them were fighting; much more intensely than the fight between him and her.

She looked like she was in her element, parrying and slicing and dodging. Everything just came so naturally to her.

She'll leave me behind. In this strange world, strength is the only voice that speaks. I need to become stronger. I can't lose her.

Rupert picked up the knife and cut his palm with it. The damage was very minimal and lost him only a few HP. The most painful part was the serrated aspect, it didn't leave a clean-cut, ripping and tearing instead of just slicing. He winced in pain as he did it.

This is agony!

Rupert stopped once he lost 5 HP, the minimum for [Heal Wound] to even work. Rupert wondered why there was a minimum to the spell as it healed his torn flesh. The skill repaired his hand perfectly, it was only a few HP after all.

I don't think I'll ever get used to this.

[Heal Wound] scaled its mana use with how bad the wound was. It had the minimum mana requirement of 50 mana and a maximum of 200, healing a maximum of 100 HP. Rupert could easily get in 9 healings with a full mana pool.

Cutting himself to then be healed by himself, rinse and repeat every time his mana pool regenerated enough to use it. It was quite the experience for the former mechanical engineer. He hated every single second that he perpetuated his activity.

After three hours of pain, he had been reduced to a human robot. His movements were slow and repetitive, his mind blank except for activating his skill, his pain remaining unregistered by his foggy mind.

Why am I doing this? What is the point? How can this be the answer? ... For her... I'm doing it for her...

[Skill \Heal Wound\ has leveled up]

[ LVL 1 --> LVL 2]

The notification broke him out of his fugue state. His skill had leveled up finally. Rupert was confused at the development.

Alright, what did it do though?

He didn't feel any different. His hands were still healed, his mana was still the same, and his experience didn't move. All that changed was that a 1 turned into a 2. The feeling that all the pain he endured amounted to a single number increase was disheartening. He didn't even want to imagine what would be needed to get to level 3.

He repeated his actions once more, moving the knife along his hand to take 5 HP. The real change occurred when he activated the skill again. The minimum mana consumption was now 45.

Wow...Such a difference.

He couldn't hold in the sarcasm. The sight of such low numerical changes wounded his motivation, but could never destroy it. He could feel disappointed about the change later when he wasn't injured. Rupert watched the skill heal his hands. That was when he first noticed a second change, one not numerically representable.

The skill controlled a bit better. It used to be that he simply used the skill and it did its job, but now it was slightly different. When he activated the skill previously, its healed aura covered his entire body and affected everything equally. The real change this time was that he could slightly affect the aura, concentrating it a bit towards the areas he wanted.

This...is actually useful. How about that.

Rupert finally had some results, so he continued to act on what worked, resuming his strange training.

Unknown to him, watching from the shadows was an assassin. It was a woman covered in black clothes, leaning real hard into the assassin vibe. She hid in a small pocket created by the [Hidden Shadow] skill that every assassin had. She had been tasked with watching the male Otherworlder, tracking his movements, and recording his progress. The woman narrowed her eyes at Rupert, projecting her hatred towards him.

Fucking unfair.

She moved through the darkness to appear somewhere else on the compound. It was the training room she now had access to for accepting this job. Once she physically appeared, she immediately started to beat the crap out of the training dummy.

Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!

She hit it over and over, repeatedly destroying it, only for it to rebuild itself and wait to be beaten again. It was a useful artifact for training, but right now it became the outlet for her anger.

Every skill advancement has been paid for with battlefields-worth of blood. And he just stood there for a day and cut himself!

She continued to release her anger for ten minutes. Afterward, she straightened her clothes and disappeared into the shadows once more. Assassins tended to do that a lot. She had to resume her watching of Rupert, no matter how much his easy path to power angered her.