Having gone through all of the spells, and the majority of the information pertaining to them, Dix quickly finished his scotch and looked to Chance. She’d been sipping her drink while watching him, waiting until he’d finished whatever it was he was thinking about. Now that he was looking ready to get started again, she also polished off her drink. Then, smiling, she waved her hand and the pseudo strip club vanished.

Once more subjected to divine teleportation, Dix just grumbled in his head. Having been through a huge amount of training, a couple of murderous tests, and almost exploding, not to mention literally dying to get here, he was a little worn out. Physically he was in perfect shape. Being dead really was great for all the running around and fighting he had done. Even in the midst of slaughtering hordes of monsters he had never actually been tired. A little drained from what was probably mana deprivation that one time, but it had gone away almost immediately as mana had flooded back into him. But, untiring physique of the dead or not, Dix was starting to grow weary with all the testing and training. And the not being told anything about what was really going on here. And not getting laid. Especially the not getting laid.

Looking around at his latest in a long line of weird places to show up, Dix wasn’t really surprised to see yet another weapons vault. This one was a bit smaller, and didn’t have a giant lava centaur. The weapons ranged from tiny twigs, to small trees. Most were made of wood or precious metals, but there were a few made from bones and other esoteric and exotic materials. No matter the base materials of their construction, they all had something in common. All of them had some sort of crystal, gem, glass, or orb involved in their construction, normally near the end.

While Dix was looking around at all the new weapons he was going to have to learn to use, Chance was digging through a small box set atop a pedestal near the center of the room. There was no real importance to the pedestal, or even the box, it was merely a convenient place to have them. After a moment, Chance pulled two small items made of a silvery metal from the box.

Having scoped out most of the vault and its content, he was quite positive that he was going to have to learn to use a wand. Not sure exactly how I feel about that. Wands always seemed so… feeble? Can’t exactly bash a guy's head in with a twig. Well, as long as they pack a punch and aren’t hard to aim I can make it work. He was actually very curious about how a wand compared to a pistol. He was also trying to figure out where the other weapon types fit into that analogy. Was a staff a shotgun, or an assault rifle? His eyes lingered briefly on a staff made mostly of bone, with a pair of glowing rubies for eyes in the skull that topped it, and an arm reaching perpendicularly out of the skull’s mouth clutching a jagged piece of rusty iron. It looked like a drunken necromancer’s attempt at making an artistic scythe. Useless for melee combat, but probably terrifying when held by a necromancer leading his undead armies.

Shaking his head to clear it of the idiocy of his drifting thoughts, Dix turned to face Chance again. Her arm came up, two small pieces of silver on her open palm, and her mouth opened to speak, but then it all stopped. There was no warning, no slow down in her movements. It was full speed ahead to a dead stop in an instant. Oddly, the two small pieces of metal in her hand hadn’t continued their motion either. What finally cleared up what was going on, or not going on as the case may be, was Chance’s hair also being frozen in an instant. Hair, particularly longer hair, never truly stops moving, yet that was exactly what had occurred here. Dix was trying to figure out what had happened to cause such an effect when a somewhat familiar voice spoke up from behind him.

“Hey, kid. Sorry for the intrusion, but we need to have a bit of a chat before she gets to those things.”

Dix sighed, then, without looking back, wandered over to sit on one of the nearby shelves. Eventually, after getting comfortable, he looked to the being that had stopped time just to “have a bit of a chat”. If he hadn’t already figured most of the gods were arrogant beyond belief, this would have clinched it. Not that arrogance didn’t go hand in hand with immense power, but it was still a bit ridiculous from his point of view. Standing a dozen feet away, both sets of arms crossed over his chest, was the God of the Crossroads. Considering the condition Chance was in, Dix wasn’t that surprised. Still, he asked the question he thought was pertinent, “I thought I had to wait until the third test was over to have this discussion?”

With a grunt and a twitch of an arm from Crossroads, a large leather reclining chair appeared next to the god. After he sat, and kicked his feet up, he locked his eyes on Dix. The human was still odd, and the things he had done while going through his testing certainly hadn’t changed any of that. Crossroads was actually quite impressed with what he had done, but was still worried how things would go from here. There were some decisions to be made, and he wouldn’t allow himself to interfere with Dix in any way while he made them. But he still had to explain why he was here, and get those decisions made.

“This is a different discussion, kid. And it’s important, so let me talk.” Briefly he glared at Dix, but the man’s nod and continued silence were all he wanted at the moment. With a deep breath, he got back to what he was here for. “Before I let you get any further in this, I need you to make a decision about something. One of the biggest changes that you can go through when you get brought to Mantra is changing your species. You humans call it race, for some reason, so that’s how it shows up in your system panels. Either way, it’s something that I actually recommend you do, mostly because Humans aren’t particularly well suited to the environment here. There are a lot of different options, basically any type of sentient creature that lives or has lived on Mantra.”

Dix lifted his hand from his leg a little, one finger raised. He was excited about the possibilities, but there were also a great number of things that worried him about it. Are you still the same person, if everything physical about you changes? I guess plastic surgeons get asked this question all the time, but it’s a first for me. Huh, what would I even want to be? When Crossroads stopped speaking and nodded to him, he asked, “What sort of mental changes are we looking at here? The physical ones, I’m guessing, will be mostly obvious.”

“Your thought processes won’t change for the most part, although sometimes you will receive new instincts. The biggest mental changes will be attached to physiological differences. Choose a race with a tail, and you will have the instinctual knowledge of how to use it. This knowledge won’t be perfect, but equivalent to someone of the same physical maturity you have now, but of that race. Same thing with any other changes. More limbs than you have, retractable claws, more eyes, new senses, racial skills. All of these and more are things you can gain, and the knowledge on how to use them comes with them, allowing you to settle into your new form with a minimum of fuss.” Crossroads looked over to see Dix stroking his beard in thought, but the man had a big smile on his face. Seeing the man’s excitement, he decided to wait a bit before continuing.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

What Crossroads didn’t realize at the time was that he had just put everything that was happening with the tests into context for Dix. Why would they run people newly arrived to their world through a bunch of training and tests? It hadn’t really ever made sense to Dix. Heck, most of those stories about people summoning humans from Earth to kill demon kings didn’t make sense to him. Sure, the ones where the person summoned makes guns and cannons to help the people of whatever land fight off their invaders at least make some sense, but the ones where they summon a human and give them fantastical powers to go off and fight always seemed off to him. Why summon someone from a different world? Why not just use the best warrior you have, and give him the phantastical powers. If any of these stories were actually real, Dix would assume that the Demon Lords won a LOT of wars on other planets that tried this bullshit, and the only ones anyone heard of again were the incredibly rare success stories.

However, here on Mantra, it made a sort of sense if looked at in a certain way. The pixie had told him that the tests were used to induct people into the system, and as a sort of balancing act to get them ready for life on Mantra. The new people would, without intervention, have no idea about monsters, fighting, magic, skills, and a whole host of other things. This wasn’t just a tutorial, it was a lifetime of lessons crammed into a small period of time. The tests all had a couple things in common. They all had enemies that needed to be killed, and, if you actually tried, by the end of each test you felt much stronger. It seemed to be an accelerated version of what the system was going to do when he actually got to Mantra. Kill monsters, get experience, level up. If the tests were just an advanced and accelerated version of the same thing, then why was he being put through them? And was everyone really this strong on Mantra?

This could all be one of those games that gods supposedly like to play, but none of them that Dix had talked to seemed to be that sort of person. Roanoak especially just seemed like a man who loved to make stuff other people loved to use. In fact, Roanoak had given Dix some very odd looks during his training sessions prior to his tests. Looks that seemed to call Dix himself a monster of a different type. It was apparent that he was an outlier to what they normally did during the tests and training, so his own experiences wouldn’t necessarily explain what was really going on here.

Crossroads’ slip up was to use the phrase “same physical maturity you have now,” meaning it was a balancing act. He was talking about the knowledge that he would be gifted with a race change, but that didn’t mean that that statement didn’t apply to other things. What if the tests were designed to give a new arrival the knowledge and skills roughly equivalent to those of someone of the same physical maturity that had been on Mantra their whole lives. That gave Dix the measurement that they were using, but didn’t give him the why yet. It also gave him something else. If he was already so far beyond the norm that Roanoak couldn’t stop staring, what would they do about it? Would they artificially age him? Kill him? Take away some of his skills? There was no way for him to know what they would do for now, but as long as he was alive at the end of it all, he would figure out a way forward.

For now, he needed to focus on the discussion with Crossroads. He had already inadvertently dropped one clue, perhaps there would be others. In addition, it’s not everyday you get the chance to change your species. He tried not to let his mind wander to the possibilities for the moment, but he couldn’t help it. Ideas of being a variety of fantasy races flashed through his mind, and as each went by he judged it for the possibility that he could be comfortable as that type of being.

Dwarf was the first he thought of, and also the first rejected. Beards are great and all, but he liked being tall. Also that large of a change in perspective and size would greatly affect his fighting abilities. This realization made him automatically reject all other races of short stature. No gnomes or halflings for this man.

Variant versions of humanity, like barbarians, were a possibility, but he saw them more as racial changes than anything else. Wouldn’t it just take him from being his normal handsome mixed breed self, and turn him into a taller, broader, white haired Norseman, or something like that? Or any of who knows how many other options. Some of the variants might have various adaptations to the environments they theoretically came from, or some other small changes, but, in the end, they were still only human. What’s the point in having the ability to change, if all you want to do is make small changes.

Elves were another possibility. Similar enough to humans that some of the same aesthetics would apply. Generally regarded as being more lithe and dexterous than humans, being an elf might actually help with his combat skills. Sure he wouldn’t hit quite as hard, but he could move much faster and smoother. If that also rolled over into the bow, it would make for a good option. Elves were also rumored to be excellent with magic, although their specific racial type seemed to have a large effect on which kinds of magic they could use. Still, some really good options amongst the elven races.

Beastkin were the next theoretical race he thought of. Once again, like the Elves, there were a large number of variations that were possibilities. There were a number of similarities with them as well. Most would have some form of tail, normally used for balance, and an excellent thing to have to help with combat. He would have to learn to use it correctly, as well as guard it from damage. The majority of the Beastkin races would also have some form of natural weapons and skills. Things like claws, talons, and teeth. Some would have poisoned bites or spurs. Briefly he got lost in the idea of a platypus Beastkin ninja running around stabbing people with its poisoned spurs. With a shake of his head, and a wistful smile, he got back to thinking. Reptiles would have some sort of natural armour with their scales, and a tail that could be used to attack as well. All excellent traits for combat, but probably detrimental to his sex life, unless the females of Mantra were more into scales than he thought likely.

Some form of Dragonman, perhaps? Maybe with wings? Again, awesome for staying alive and kicking ass through any kind of combat, but what’s the point of surviving if the only fun you get to have is drinking and flying. You can’t even combine the two. Birdmen at least still get laid, theoretically.

Well, if you have Angels, in the form of birdmen, then you gotta have Demons. Demons, huh? I wonder if I could get Incubus as a race. That would take care of my sex life, but can they fight at all? Downsides would be the need to feed, although considering my current libido, I’m not sure how it could get worse. Also, the lack of combat skills. I guess they have wings and a tail. And some shape changing or illusion skills? Really not a b-

Further thoughts on his racial options were interrupted by Crossroads. “Before you get sunk into thinking over every race you humans have ever thought existed, perhaps you ought to look at what we actually have had here on Mantra. It’s not like we get to choose who shows up here, we just have to take care of them.”

Dix’s jaw dropped. That was it. The piece he was missing earlier. Why would anyone summon a bunch of people that couldn’t really survive in their new world, only to put them through training and tests to make sure they were ready before they let them loose? They wouldn’t. No one would do that. It makes no rational sense.

However, if you didn’t have any control over the summoning, and something required you to run the tests… But they are gods! Who or what could possibly make them do something they didn’t want to? Dix thought about it for a moment. He went back over the gods he had met, Chance, Roanoak, Beauty, and Crossroads.

Suddenly he narrowed his eyes as he stared at the god sitting across from him. The god who disparaged the other gods as prima donnas, and looked down on them. The god who called them idiots. Also, the only god that he’d met that Dix was actually scared of. The others had more power than Dix, but Crossroads had Power with a capital P. He’d never really thought about it before, but he hadn’t ever really noticed Crossroads’ power until that moment. He had frozen all of time, just for a chat. Time that included at least one other god, and most likely all of them. If what the god had told him about the others watching him all the time during the testing process, then he would have had to freeze them too. What the hell was going on here?