“I sure hope you have insurance, little meat—I mean, do your best,” Goodman said, grinning. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“That doesn’t even apply to this situation,” Greg said, voice tired. Rude or not, the young man decided to analyze the wolfman as he walked into the ring. Unsurprisingly, he hated what he saw.

[Analyzing Ale Goodman…]

[Analysis complete…]

[Results… You are doomed.]

Yeah, thanks, system computer thing, whatever, Greg thought bitterly.

Ale Frankfort Goodman

Level: ??? [You are a bit too puny to see it.]

Type: Demi-human, wolfman. [Unrelated to werewolves, though the species are likely cousins.]

Affinity: forest.

As soon as they were standing a few feet apart, Professor Luya gave the signal to begin.

“I’m in a good mood, little meat, so I tell you what. I’ll let you make the first move,” Goodman said. “Then I’ll teach you as I… provide negative—I mean positive reinforcement.”

“I wonder if I should just drop out right now,” Greg retorted in a deadpan. He took aim with his staff, holding it the way Luya taught.

Sticking to manual casting for the moment, Greg charged his only spell.

[Greg activated Electric Ball.]

Goodman snickered as the ball of electricity raced toward him, perhaps at the speed of an Olympic runner. Greg wasn’t at all surprised when the wolf bastard allowed the attack to hit him without so much as a flinch.

“This isn’t even fair,” Gretta said from outside the ring.

“You know what? Good,” Greg said. “Fuck fair.”

Goodman’s eyes widened before he burst out into laughing. Greg took that opportunity to rush him, figuring that if anyone could whoop a wolf’s ass, it would be him. Unfortunately, reality set in as the professional fighting instructor easily blocked all of the young man’s attacks and didn’t bother countering, his grin widening.

[Your MP: 65%.]

Deciding to cast from his hand instead of his staff, Greg willed the magic through his veins. Goodman grabbed his wrist and twisted slightly, causing the young man to hiss a bit. However this close space was what Greg needed. With all of his strength, he delivered a knee that should’ve connected.

It connected with a hand blocking it with ease.

[Your passive skill, Rising Dragon, activated.]

[Forgotten Tier skill: Rising Dragon. The longer you last in a battle, the stronger you get. Simple as that.]

Greg may have felt a little something, but that tiny hope went away as Goodman’s knuckles covered his sight, sprawling him back a few feet.

[Your HP has dropped to 70%.]

When Greg got back up, Goodman’s mouth went agape.

“Well, I’ll be damned. This is the first little meat I’ve had in a while get back up after that. He hasn’t taken much damage either. The way a light punch is meant to be.”

Professor Luya simply shrugged.

“Old man’s getting rusty, I see,” she said, causing the wolfman to glare briefly at her, before turning back to the young man.

[Rising Dragon.]

Greg knew somewhere he was supposed to be pissed, annoyed, or even flipping out, perhaps walking out of the ring to leave a message of not putting up with Goodman’s bullshit. Instead, he wanted more. Fighting, maybe blood spilled… that wasn’t his. And, of course, prove himself to the smug bastard that he wasn’t a pushover or someone to be bullied.

[Rising Dragon.]

Greg didn’t notice the thin white aura that outlined his skin every time the passive ability activated. Not feeling any results and assuming they were so tiny, they wouldn’t matter in a fight against an overwhelming opponent, the young man decided to just ignore the prompts.

He picked up his staff, hoping to remind Goodman that they were still in a classroom setting, and took one of the stances taught by the instructors.

Goodman gave him a wry smile.

“You must be wondering what kind of magic I can perform?” he asked.

“No, no I’m not,” Greg said, suddenly nervous. “You really don’t have to explode me into pieces.”

[Rising Dragon.]

Goodman laughed. “I’m quite amused by this little meat! Let’s just pass him. If I can save him for a later, more satisfying beating—fight, that’d be interesting.”

[Rising Dragon.]

“No, and just make your point already,” Luya said, voice bored, and even in deadpan. “Actually teach him. And I swear if you send him to the hospital, you’ll be joining him in a bed of your own with both of your legs broken.”

[Rising Dragon.]

Goodman gave her a sheepish grin. “Fine, fine.”

[Rising Dragon.]

Greg set the Rising Dragon prompts to auto minimize, figuring they would get quite annoying down the line.

[Greg activated Electric Ball.]

Except what erupted from the magical device wasn’t a small baseball of electricity, but a wagon-sized monstrosity. It smashed into Goodman before he could dodge and while it did little damage, the wolfman’s hair standing straight up did make the young man laugh. Apparently, the rest of the class agreed if a few snickers meant anything at that moment.

“Now, that isn’t natural,” Goodman said, his voice a cross between dark and playful. He brushed himself off, emphasizing the uselessness of a beginner-level technique. “While pathetic, I do wonder if that would’ve put a good slapping on any other little meats. Damn, now I wish I could make you fight them, but we’re running out of time.”

Greg gulped as he took a fighting stance.

“You’re not going to give up?” Goodman asked. “Not beg for mercy? Cry? Apologize?”

“I don’t know what kind of cartoons you’ve been watching, Professor, but I fight to the end,” Greg said. “This will not be the first time I’ve gotten my ass kicked.”

“Very well,” he said. “Little meat, if you’ve got any kind of brain power, then listen to this technique. Because I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Greg watched, cautiously, ready to defend at the slightest movement. The Rising Dragon prompts continued to manifest, though in a separate, minimized window.

“This is called Spirit Shield,” he said. “Using your imagination, draw out your magic, visualize it covering your entire body in a sphere. You can even do stupid arm gestures like this.”

Goodman thrusted both of his palms outward to the side.

[Goodman activated Spirit Shield.]

Suddenly, a translucent blue sphere of magic surrounded him. Greg, of course, knew this to be like any force field every wizard seemed to know in the video games. They were often very annoying to deal with, making this lesson kind of an irony.

Following Goodman’s instructions, the young man directed his magic outward. Or at least, imagined so. Nothing happened.

“You may want to hurry up with that,” Goodman said as a menacing red radiation, aura, manifested around him. He aimed a metallic wand that seemed to have spawned from nothingness. The tip began to glow. “Else it may hurt.”

[Goodman’s Wild Pressure.]

Uhm, system, please help me out here, Greg thought, but he received no response. The room began to shake.

“Oh well,” Goodman said. “I’ll be waiting in the hospital lobby for you.”

“You know this isn’t a logical way to teach someone a skill,” Greg said as he activated his electrical skill again.

Unlike last time, it was back to being the size of a baseball… except something, seemed different. A yellowish color, instead of electric white.

Goodman smacked it to the side using his wand, then let out a small howl of excitement when the magic destroyed another target on the wall.

Briefly, the silence from Professor Luya and the shocked class seemingly froze time. Nobody expected the young man to last this long against the wolfman. Hell, Greg didn’t either, but… something just didn’t feel right. He’d never in his life felt so… so… invincible, powerful. Yes, he got into many fights, but he never lusted for them. He just was never one to take anyone’s shit, as if he did, then that person would likely become a bully. A life mixed with normal, somewhat feared, and college graduation… which got taken away from him thanks to whoever the fuck the Bright Ones were. A mafia perhaps? He pissed off a lot of people, but that was in the past. He left the rough life, dedicating it to excelling in college and making the old man proud. He still remembered the surprise on his parents’ faces when they realized that Greg wasn’t going to let life run him over.

Maybe Greg’s life was flashing before his eyes as Goodman raced toward him coated in the red radiation, his expression… unsettling, deadly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Luya said in her bored, deadpan voice as she fucking… teleported in front of Greg. “You’ve let the excitement of thinking you’ve finally found a strong opponent distract you, obviously forgetting that he’s just a beginner.”

With just a finger, she sent Goodman flying backward at what appeared to be the speed of sound. He slammed into the wall, back-first, laughing.

“Ah, you really are a cruel woman,” Goodman said. “Not giving me the chance to stop my charge aside, I was only testing him. Gee, if I really wanted a fight, I’ll just go find one of those illegal underground fight clubs or something.”

Luya shrugged. “Just initiating a safety protocol.” She turned to Greg. “We make a lot of jokes, but student safety is the most important rule of our joint class.” She addressed the class as a whole. “So never feel scared to ask questions or push yourself beyond your limits, like Greg here.”

“Professor, can… you explain what just happened?” Finn asked. He looked at Greg. “Because I don’t think even Greg knows.”

“I really don’t,” Greg deadpanned. “I’m just as new as anyone else to magic.”

“New? There’s just no way,” Barnabas snapped. “There was some kind of weird aura surrounding you. And that magical pressure. I’d never felt anything like—”

“That’s enough,” Luya interrupted.

“Great work, Greg,” Ena said, cheery. “That’ll show that idiot wolf what happens when he threatens to hospitalize us.”

Greg shot her a flat stare. “I mean I really didn’t do much. He—”

“Mom would love to hear about this,” Ena said, oblivious to Greg’s nervousness. He also felt a bit drained from that passive skill.

System, is it possible to disable it? Greg asked.

To his relief, the option to disable passive skills was there. Did the system create it? He didn’t see it earlier.

“Class dismissed,” Luya said. “Greg, you really are promising. Just remember to practice and work hard. Maybe one day, you can give that old wolf a rematch.”

Goodman cackled. “Maybe. The day I get taken out by a little meat—”

Luya whacked him with a staff.

“Oof,” he grunted.

[You earned 10 Free Points!]

[You received 1 Rank F Health Potion.]

Loot from an inconclusive battle! Greg wasn’t complaining. He eyed the Rising Dragon passive, realizing that it was actually a tiered skill, like Ena’s. A… forgotten tier. What did that mean? What would happen if he leveled it up?