Ciara backed against the tower wall, panting heavily. The damned goblins had managed to take out three members of her makeshift squad within the last seven days. Even though she knew that it wasn't technically a bad number if you considered the squad had consisted of eleven people when this whole fiasco had started.

"Tasha, draw their fire. Ruben, make a run for the chief. I'll try to cover you."

She couldn't blame Ruben for the look in his eyes when she'd called out the order, but how in the hell was she supposed to get them out safely if they weren't willing to risk their lives?

Drats.

She'd barely turned eighteen before the whole world seemed to have gone to shit, a weird screen popping up in her face while she was at the school dance. She'd thought it was an elaborate prank at the time, plus it could've been easily explained by her being high out of her mind. She liked to think that the rebellious nature of teens was to blame for that.

"No way I'm going a step closer to that thing," Ruben screamed from his own cover.

Coward!

The lot of them—she wasn't one to judge, but every single one of these fellow senior men and ladies who'd been at the party with her were, for lack of an uncouth vocabulary... cowards.

The only reason they'd even survived this long was because of her guidance and leadership, not to brag of course, but it was nothing but cold hard facts. Most of the others that had scrambled away after stupidly accepting the chance of this freak show of a tutorial were dead.

"What kind of Berserker are you?" Ciara screamed in frustration.

Part of her frustration came from the fact that their remaining squad of nine wasn't even up to the task of an up-close battle. They had two priests, three rangers, two rogues, a mage—her—and a dead berserker if Ruben didn't get his ass moving.

"Uhmm... the sane kind."

She wanted to curse at him but held herself back so as not to beat down on the already six-foot-deep squad morale. Her father had always said that morale was the most important thing for soldiers, more so than ammunition, and she was starting to see the sense behind it.

More than half the squad had chosen their archetypes because it sounded cool or because their friends chose the same one. Heck, some picked their archetype based on video games they'd played.

The funniest or most frustrating part of these actions, depending on how she looked at it, was the fact that most of them didn't even know how to use their weapons. The people who had ones that required little to no IQ were too scared to even try. A good example was Ruben, who was supposed to have gone berserk yesterday.

Like seriously, how hard was it for that wimp to swing a sword?

"Tasha, Daniel, cover me. Pirlo, you're with me. The rest of you guys make yourselves useful," Ciara ordered, her squad mates already moving. "Oh, and Ruben. Go to hell."

The boy audibly gulped, but she couldn't care less. Their lives were on the line, and he'd rather hide in a hole than fight a couple of level seven goblins. To his credit, the chief goblin was a level ten monster.

Tasha and Daniel were their best rangers. They weren't good shots by a long mile, but they were the best she had, and it was all she could do to flash them a weak smile as they got into position. Pirlo was already on his way to her. The rogue was something of a wildcard; he seemed to take a good liking to their new reality in a way that freaked her out as a person but pleased her as a squad leader.

He was, for lack of better words, an intense person who rarely spoke, preferring to keep to himself unless spoken to. The daggers by his side were short, shorter than the swords Ruben had so graciously gotten from the system upon choosing his archetype. Ciara wouldn't compare, though. Pirlo had been far more competent with his pair of daggers than Ruben with his sword.

Never lose sight of the enemy.

Her father's knowledge as a top-ranking officer in the military was coming up clutch for her right about now. A little part of her crumpled inwardly as she stared at her fellow civilians looking up to her for leadership. Excluding her and Pirlo for some weird reason, the rest of the squad wasn't mentally equipped to deal with the horrors of a battlefield. Heck, even she wasn't, but she'd been raised by someone who'd lived that life, so it was a bit of a one-sided comparison.

Duty had found her, and she'd lead and lead as best as she could. Peeking over the little wall of cover, she focused on the goblins at the other end of the room.

[ Goblin Level 6 ]

[ Goblin Level 7 ]

[ Goblin Level 7 ]

[ Goblin Level 6 ]

[ Goblin Level 5 ]

[ Goblin Level 6 ]

[ Goblin Level 5 ]

[ Goblin Level 7 ]

[ Chief Goblin Level 10 ]

I should've just gone to military school.

Maybe then she'd actually have a chance, surrounded by competent people who'd been drilling day and night for fights. Goblins weren't what military schools were built to teach, but at the end of the day, he who was taught to fight would figure out how to adapt and overcome any obstacle.

Adapt and overcome.

The system had directed them to the nearest tower, which just looked like something right out of a goth person's dreams. It looked worse from the outside; the appearance screamed death, but it was a party plus there was a system threatening to throw them into ready incursion zones if they refused to comply.

The moment they'd gotten within range of the tower, things that she'd never known before began to flood her brain. New information that she couldn't explain.

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Everything about the system seemed to make sense to her, how to command it and how to utilize it to its full potential. It was like an apocalypse for dummies had been implanted in her head when she wasn't looking.

A whole dictionary and bestiary dropped into her head with all the names and images of weird monsters and objects. It went through her mind so fast that she doubted she'd actually learned anything at all. Her regular scans on the goblins were enough to let her know that she had.

Whatever the system was, it hadn't come to play. It had basically given them a crash course on the apocalypse and thrust them into towers so as to learn by doing. In other words: learn fast or die still trying. Ciara had no plans to die anytime soon; she'd just turned eighteen for goodness sake.

"You ready?" Pirlo asked with that intense tone of his.

"A moment. Diane, Jack, buff us," Ciara said as she stood to her feet, staring at the Goblin party with as much confidence as she could muster, for her sake and theirs.

A warm feeling enveloped her, and she could tell the same had happened to Pirlo because he looked a lot less intense.

She felt her skin tighten up as Diane buffed her up. The feeling probably meant that she'd used her Iron-skin(I) skill. When they'd gone over skills, Diane had said that it gave a five percent boost on constitution, making her a little bit harder to hit. As a mage, Ciara was very grateful for the boost, as up-close fights were the obvious weakness of the Mage Archetype.

She'd chosen the spellcaster class once she'd hit level five and the system had offered it to her. It was an uncommon class but better than the others on the list like enchanters, and warlocks. Plus, it came with two skills, which was one more than the common classes that Diane and Jack had gotten.

Pirlo had remained tight-lipped on his class, only informing them that he'd chosen the rogue Archetype. At the time, Ciara had really wanted to press the information about what his class was as she was trying to identify their strengths and weaknesses, but she let it slide wisely. He was their only heavy hitter. The other rogue, Yola, was just as scared as Ruben, but at least with Yola, it was easier to comprehend since she was of the rogue Archetype, or vultures, as the system had labeled them.

As soon as the warm feeling faded, Ciara nodded to Pirlo, and he nodded back. There wasn't any need for the pair to communicate.

The plan was simple: he'd try to take out the chief as fast as possible while she'd cast her two skills—Fireball (I) and Flamethrower (I)—to split the goblins' focus, and the rangers behind them would try to take out as many goblins as they could.

Adapt and overcome.

Pirlo charged, daggers by his side, and Ciara couldn't help but glance at Ruben cowering behind a wall. Their eyes met. She didn't even know what her eyes said, but whatever he must've seen in them made him look at the ground sheepishly.

Bloody civilians.

Ciara spun and followed suit way behind Pirlo, who'd eaten up enough distance that she wasn't sure she'd get into position before they ganged up on him, but somehow she managed.

Arrows whistled by her ears even as she began to cast—a chantless cast but still one that took time. The result, though, was worth it. Ciara chucked fireball after fireball at three goblins who were looking to intercept Pirlo, the fireball eating through their skin a bit before going—poof.

Shriekkkk!

The sounds the monsters made were an abomination to her ears. Heck, it sounded like the kind of music a couple of her high school friends had listened to. If they survived, she'd certainly recommend a party with goblins to them.

She had a five-second delay between every fireball, and while something like that would've cost her her life if she was alone, it didn't while she was in a group. The goblins didn't even get to finish shrieking before more pain came their way, multiple arrows whistling past and hitting them.

Ciara winced at the sight, though. Her rangers needed to get better with their accuracy. So many arrows had clattered uselessly against the ground while a few had met their mark. She wouldn't complain, though. It was better to have them distracting the goblins while she recast some more fireballs, chucking them at the still-shrieking goblins.

From the corner of her eyes, she watched in equal parts amazement and concern as Pirlo dismantled his foes. The goblins he'd had to take on alone numbered six, including the Chief Goblin, who seemed content to let the battle play out, only letting shrieks to probably order around its minions.

Whatever it was doing definitely wasn't working, though, because Pirlo was cutting through them like butter. His daggers were coated in black blood as they flashed again and again, tearing at the skins of the goblins relentlessly even as their own rusty daggers bit into his skin. He'd already downed four goblins; it was only a matter of time till the chief remained, and she had to be ready to help when the time came.

Refocusing on her own battle, she threw a fireball, hitting a goblin straight on its face, and watched with triumph as it fell to the ground, trying to put out the flames before going still. A moment had barely passed between her taking down that goblin before an arrow embedded itself through the eye of another.

Lucky shot.

Ciara snickered but flashed a thumbs up to the rangers somewhere behind her before taking down the last goblin with two fireballs to the chest. With that done, she faced Pirlo, who'd already finished slaying the minions. The scrawny kid, probably her age, was going blow for blow with the chief goblin, although from where she was standing, Pirlo wouldn't last much longer with the way the chief's club was battering him.

No curses, I'm a lady.

She really wanted to curse but didn't, not even internally. With a sense of urgency, she dashed towards the chief, her skill already being cast.

"Get out of the way," Ciara screamed to Pirlo.

The wiry boy didn't even waste time getting out of the way, content in the knowledge he'd played his part. Satisfied with the distance that Pirlo had put between himself and the chief, Ciara let her second skill rip—Flamethrower(I).

Oppressive heat left out her two palms facing the chief, who'd decided to walk towards the source rather than dive out of the way. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, and much to Ciara's despair, the chief Goblin did not stop. It kept advancing till it was within range to swing its club.

Thwack!

That was the sound the club made as it met her skin, the blow disrupting her skill and making pain explode on her right thigh, which had been on the receiving end of the attack. She tried to stay strong for her squad mates, but her body betrayed her. She fell to the ground with a thud. Iron-skin(I) had done its best against the force of the swing, but it wasn't going to save her if the chief goblin completed the new blow it had coming for her head.

Spurt!

Thud!

Ciara let out a gasp of relief as soon as the body of the chief dropped beside her, a dagger protruding from its neck while a wiry boy stood looking in disgust at the dead goblin. A wave of euphoria passed through her at the death of the chief, and Ciara let it wash through her, healing her injuries as the same happened to Pirlo. The boy took out his dagger as though he didn't care about the euphoria the same way she did.

To each his own, I suppose.

Status.

Level up 6 -> 7

Name: Ciara Rone

Moniker: N/A

Level: 7

Archetype: Mage

Class: Spellcaster

Imprint: N/A

Strength: 5

Dexterity: 6

Vitality: 7

Constitution: 6

Perception: 5

Intelligence: 8

Mana: 30 / 70

Mana regeneration (per minute): 0.3

Dao: N/A

Ra'hal coins: 450

Free points: 2

Ciara was still trying to figure out what to allocate her new points to when a new notification came in—one that intrigued her because she'd heard Pirlo gasp… Pirlo. Looking at the new notification, she could understand why.

[ Tutorial Period has Ended ]

[ Distributing tutorialists to incursion zones in

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