CHAPTER 17 – TRIAL INTRODUCTION

The next day, when he woke, he grimaced at what he had to do. The cocoon of blankets he formed was larger than usual in order to give him more room for swinging his arm. Then he used the handle of his knife to strike himself. Some of the blows shifted the blankets, and he was worried that the noise of each could be heard. However, with his newfound wisdom covering the true risks to the reincarnated ones, he was confident he was safe. To become the best that he could become, he needed to take risks.

His legs ached from the repeated blows, and he was certain he had created plenty of minor injuries to work with, but in the dark it was hard to tell. For a moment, he considered flipping the blankets open to let the light in, but then he checked himself. The injuries were on his legs, and he only needed an instant to check them. He broke his normal routine and pretended he had to use the big kid’s toilet, the one with a cubical door. The moment it was locked he yanked down his pants and nodded when he saw the angry black bruises covering his thighs and shins.

It was more than enough to work with – in fact, probably too much. Too many of them looked deep, but that was, where he was concerned, better than not having enough. Next time he was in the isolation room, all the deep bruising that his spells couldn’t touch would be healed. Until then, he would gladly suffer the minor discomfort.

The day was normal right up to the time immediately after lunch, when Dimitri took them and a gaggle of other children, around half the four-year-olds, outside, to what appeared to be a particularly large tool shed.

As they got closer, it was clear that the heavy barn-like doors were already open.

The moment he stepped through, the atmosphere changed even before his eyes adjusted to the reduced light. He and everyone else could feel the oppressive air that surrounded the trial. There was a tension, an expectation of action, an aura that was mildly uncomfortable for humans, but one that would drive all monsters away.

He breathed in deeply and contained his mounting excitement… at least, mostly. Some slipped out, but that didn’t matter. Little Ta enjoyed the trial. He liked the lazy playing in the lake and the hot sun.

Pa punched him lightly on his shoulder, and, when Tom looked, the other boy appeared just as happy as Tom felt, which was jarring. The larger kid was usually surly about these sessions, and complained incessantly, so the excitement was off-putting. Tom guessed it had been a couple of weeks, so maybe he had forgotten what he hated and only remembered the good bits. The grass-is-greener sort of thing. Tom grinned back, then checked on Bir.

She, too, was happy, but that was less surprising, given her past behaviour.

Tom pushed them out of his mind and admired the perfectly spherical ball that was floating half a meter off the ground. It looked like it had been created out of a dense orange stone, and was as wide as he was tall.

The approach to the trial was blocked by a volunteer. It was a thin woman in her mid-thirties, at least judging by her appearance; she had sharp Egyptian features. She held up a stone:

“Scan as you go past.”

That voice reminded him of the day of the ritual. This was the adventurer, the woman called Delilah who had been gossiping during the trial. He guessed he should be thankful; her presence had forced the man running it to keep to the script. Trying not to stare at her, he did as instructed and placed his hand on the stone she proffered. It would register him, just like the isolation rooms did. Then he was through. Dimitri, who had got ahead of them, ensured that they approached the trial stone with an even interval of thirty seconds separating them. This measure was designed to allow them to move away smoothly when they all exited after their four hours. As each child touched the stone, they vanished.

Then it was his turn. He walked up, lifted his hand to place it on the surface, and never felt his hand connect.

One second, he was standing in the shed with the sphere filling his vision, and then the next moment he was here. In the trial. In a cozy room, one that both he and Little Ta recognised.

Tom snorted.

It was his bedroom from Earth, and the place where Little Ta had been brought every time. He had found it strange at first, but now considered it to be his special place.

“Oh, you’ve changed.” A pleasant voice said from behind him.

Tom spun around in surprise and wished he had a weapon.

The room was like usual, but this woman being here was not expected, though he had vague memories of her presence previously.

She was a matronly-looking older woman who was unruffled by his aggression. Her expression was relaxed, and her eyes appeared kind. She glanced down at the clipboard she was holding like she was reading a note. “Do you wish to do the usual?”

Tom stared at her suspiciously. “Are you the trial administrator?”

She arched a single eyebrow. “Interesting. Yes, you have definitely changed.”

His eye twitched, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He was afraid of discovery, and it hadn’t slipped his mind that she hadn’t answered him.

“Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” She smiled neutrally at him.

Tom tried saying various things, from being outright rude, to obnoxious ones that revealed way too much about himself. Social Silence was not triggering no matter what he thought about blurting out, which was interesting to say the least. Especially so, given that it was clear that she knew the truth about his circumstances.

“Can you explain the rules of this trial?” Tom started, then paused. Perhaps, maintaining some level of plausible deniability was sensible. “A friend of mine was teasing me and told me I could do more here than play in the lake.”

“A friend?” She seemed amused by that claim. “I doubt that very much, Ta. Is that the right term of address or would you prefer a new name now?”

“Ta is fine.”

“Suit yourself, Ta.” She emphasised his name like she knew it was a false one. “Now, Ta, before we continue, do you wish to apply your new Speedster title to this session?”

Tom’s mind went blank for a moment, and then his eyes widened. That was one of the titles he hadn’t got around to checking yet, and Little Ta had never been asked about it in all the other sessions. The fact that she asked the question now, together with the other mistakes he had made… The mistakes were numerous, too - his conversations had been too complex, his reaction to her voice behind him too violent, not to mention the additional evidence of what was probably a new title. There was no way the trial administrator didn’t know everything.

“What can you tell me about the title?” he queried hopefully.

She laughed:

“Well, I know four-year-olds don’t clear trials faster than adults, let alone over a range of nine ranks.”

He swallowed:

“That’s… how? Do you know everything then?” The words squeaked out.

“No, what I have access to is a long way from everything. But I think I’ve had enough fun teasing you. It’s enough to tell you that I know why this title became available.”

Tom hesitated. He deliberately ignored, at least momentarily, what she was implying. For now, he wanted information:

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“If I were to use it, how would it work?”

“Avoiding the topic wouldn’t help you, Tom. As for your question, using the title in this trial will increase the dilation ratio. The usual four hours will pass outside, but in here it will be longer. Biologically, you’ll age at the same rate as the rest of Existentia. It’s perfectly safe. The extra time can’t be divined.”

She had said his name!

There was no point in pretending anymore. He had to face the issue head-on:

“How secure is this trial?”

She nodded and went down on one knee the way adults did to get on eye level with the children:

“You’re asking if you can trust me? There is only one way to address that.” Her facial features grew harder and more serious as she met his gaze. All pesky human emotions were pushed away. “I swear on the GODs themselves to only ever tell you the truth.”

Tom’s mouth almost opened in surprise at the shock of hearing her say that. This was a far stronger reassurance than he had been expecting.

“Shut your mouth, boy. I’ve dealt with reincarnated ones before, and I need to swear on the GODs because anything below that leaves your kind suspicious. I’m on your side, and I won’t, and, in fact, can’t betray you.”

“Um… thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. I’ve seen how disorientating this process is for all of you, and I feel for what you’re going through.”

“You understand what I need, don’t you. With the competition being as it is.” He shrugged to indicate both his desire and helplessness.

“I know.” She told him. “I’ve triggered the title. But you’re not here to focus on the outside. This is about you and using this to become stronger, isn’t it?”

He nodded uncertainly.

“The rules I’m bound by state that everything I learn is a hundred percent confidential and completely locked for fifteen years.”

“That short?” he interrupted in alarm. “Fifteen years isn’t long enough. I won’t be able to fight rank eighty assassins by then.”

“Calm down, Tom. Listen, and don’t jump to conclusions. I swore an oath on the GODs that I was on your side. If there was a problem, I would have started with that. Nothing that happens in here will put you in danger.”

“Oh,” he scratched behind his ear. “That’s good. That’s good.”

“After that fifteen-year exclusion period I can use what I’m told to help others, providing that the person who shared the knowledge has their anonymity preserved.”

The words, he was sure were, supposed to be significant.

“I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to understand how this trial works. Because it’ll help you get the most out of later opportunities. If, let’s say, you told me a secret that could change the lives of everyone who came through here for the better, I wouldn’t be able to share it for fifteen years and possibly longer, since me talking about it straight away would have allowed them to track you down as the originator of that nugget of information.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“All you need to know is that any secrets you reveal will remain just that. I can’t betray you. This trial is here to allow you to get better.”

“And what can I get from it?” Frolicking in a large pond didn’t sound useful to him.

She frowned a little at that question:

“Less and more than you think.”

Tom raised an eyebrow at that response.

“This is a GOD’s trial. It’s not a standard thing. There are three entrances, one in each of the towns, and I oversee all three of them. It is exclusively for training. You’re fully protected, but the flip side is that you can’t earn experience, titles or rewards based on your actions.”

“Then why come here?”

She shrugged her eyes challenging him.

Tom said nothing, waiting for her to clarify further.

“I can’t give you stuff, and you can’t earn experience. Nothing else is blocked. There are even ways for me to work around the restrictions which we can discuss at a later point in time.”

“So, any practice in here counts to level my skills and contributes to progress toward evolutions?”

She nodded.

Tom recalled the details of the title that had just been activated to see if the effects of it were as boring as he remembered.

Title: Trial Speedster (IX)

* Reward: Increases movement speed and perception of time by 180% when within a GODS trial.

* Awarded for: Being the fastest to clear a dungeon that has been visited at least one million times for nine separate ranks.

Tom frowned.

He suspected he knew the answer, but had to ask anyway. “And how does the speedster title work?”

“It almost triples your time in here.”

“So, I have twelve hours?”

She hesitated:

“I can do some time dilation if explicitly requested. I can make it so that the four hours is extended to a little over nine, which, when combined with you title, will give you twenty-six hours.”

“Twenty-six hours,” he mused. “Does that mean I can use my fate pool twice?”

“You’ll be returned in the same state you came in with. So, the answer is yes. Providing you arrived with a full fate pool, visiting this place will effectively give you three fate uses in a day instead of one. In other words, what you started with, what you regenerate, and what the leaving restores. I’ve been told by others that it’s a massive boon.”

Tom frowned. He wished he had known that earlier. His pool was only two-thirds full.

“Good to know.”

The woman smiled, and Tom shook his head. She was not human - she was a trial administrator, and he didn’t want to think of her as anything else:

“Actually, is it possible for you to take your true form?”

“Yes, but I would rather not. A lot of human communication is non-verbal.”

“My preference is not to start thinking of you as a human.”

She bit her lip:

“Well… maybe I could… yes, that will work.”

As he watched, she became younger. Her skin lost any imperfections. A yellow halo appeared around her, and wings sprouted from her back - white, pure, and majestic.

“An angel?”

The face, which was inhuman because of how perfect it was, smiled at him:

“I think it’s appropriate. I keep the non-verbal communication, and you won’t be confused about what I am. Does this meet your criteria? Or…” she grinned teasingly. “Is this shell so beautiful that there’s a risk you’ll fall in love with me?”

“I’m four years old.”

“You’re not. If I had to age you, I would say you are slightly under forty.”

Tom did not bother interrogating the mathematics. If he only counted time around other people, then he was twenty-one or twenty-five, depending on whether Little Ta’s memories were taken into account or not. If you considered the tutorial as well, then he was over seventy. How she got forty from that was a mystery, and for the important parts of the conversation it was irrelevant. However, in terms of human emotion, she was wrong:

“My hormones beg to differ.” He told her. He was not sure this body could promote anything like sexual attraction, and, in any case, the angel was well into the disturbing uncanny valley territory.

She chuckled:

“But you’ll age. Biological impossibilities aside, if this form is too distracting, I can change.”

“No need,” he confirmed. There was no confusion now. He knew what he was speaking to was not human.

“Which brings us back to your original question.” She continued. “What can you get from this place? You can practise as much as you desire and have unlimited materials to do whatever you want. I had a boy come through. He hadn’t been reincarnated like you, but he was obsessed with building.”

“Building?”

“Yes. For ten years, I’ve supplied the wood, metal and tools for him to construct tree houses. They became more and more elaborate, and he ended up receiving some skills naturally via repetition or perfection, and others as a result of my specific guidance. By the time he turned fifteen, I imagine he could have constructed a modern house in a day. Pump a hundred levels into him, and he would have gotten work anywhere on Existentia.”

“Did he become that great?”

She shook her head:

“Identification rules. The fact I can tell you should have told you the situation.”

“Dead and forgotten.” He guessed.

She didn’t respond.

“Not a feel-good story. Plus, I don’t want to be a master builder.”

The angel laughed:

“It was just an anecdote. An unfortunate one that the system lets me use because it doesn’t compromise anonymity. But you are not limited. You can practise anything you want - alchemy, for example.”

“Fighting?”

She hesitated:

“Yes, I can support that, but unlike crafting, it’s not equal to fighting in Existentia, because you won’t get any combat bonuses. From the realism perspective, it will be identical to you clashing with real monsters. But as the system judges, it’ll consider it to be the equivalent of you training against someone actively not trying to kill you.”

“You mean, I can become a chew toy and get credited with the same benefits as someone crossing wooden practice swords with their brother?”

“Unfortunately so.”

“That hardly seems fair.”

“These are the rules I have to play under. But the realism will be perfect, and help you if you ever fight monsters directly.”

“Do you recommend me fighting here?”

“If that’s your path, then it can’t hurt.”

“Why should I go through the pain?”

“Do you understand how the basic weapon skills work?”

“Of course,” he answered, and she waited for him to elaborate. “You can get them two ways. One is performing the required movements thousands of times to a high standard, the other is executing them each once, but perfectly. A true master can reacquire the mastery skills instantly.”

“Close enough.” She confirmed. “The thing is, most people are much more likely to perform a movement perfectly in the throes of life and death combat, yes,” she continued hurriedly when she saw him go to argue. “Yes, even in a simulated combat under a GOD’s shield you’re more likely to get things right. Why, you might ask? Well, if you’re a doing a lunge, you’ll put more into it if the creature is retreating and you need the extra reach to kill it. At the base level, it’s basic psychology. As you said, an expert doesn’t need it. You, on the other hand, probably do.”

He considered that:

“If I perform movements perfectly, what happens if I’m not aware something’s required? You know, a specific move like a two-handed forward block or something.”

She waved her hand dismissively:

“The mastery skills are not that picky. Providing you’ve seen half the moves, you’ll get there.”

Tom nodded:

“So the trial is an opportunity. At its most basic, the time dilation and free fate will let me supercharge my magic development.” He looked her straight in the eye. “What about skills? Not mastery. I understand how to get mastery. I’m talking about the proper ones. Power Strike, Lunge, Teleport. Can you help me develop them?”