Marco’s awakening had not been as tame as Verity’s or Felicia’s. Instead of slowly coming to, and taking the time to ingest his surroundings, Marco was jolted out of his sleep by the merciless bite of the cold. He had no idea where he was, but could only assume that he had been sent here by that damn imp, and no matter where he looked, it didn't appear that anyone had been sent alongside him.
‘Oh fantastic, no really, just great!’
More than he hated the aggressive cold, he cursed the fact that he had been sent alone. He surely wouldn’t have complained if the stunning woman, Felicia, had been sent here alongside him…
‘What the hell are you thinking about, dude!?’
He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. He wasn’t some beast, and it wasn’t the time to think about women. Even if it was Felicia.
‘Is this… the top of a mountain?’ He thought as he analyzed the scenery. Snow covered his legs up to his calves, and from the incredible view before him, he could only be at an extremely high altitude.
He looked down, and ahead. He couldn’t see any type of road, or path that he was meant to follow. Still, he managed to obtain a better idea of the setting he was in. He seemed to be at the very peak of this mountain, and he quickly realized that it was no more than one unit within a mountain chain extending for as far as the eye could see.
‘Can I go down, maybe?’
It was a reasonable idea, but it was quickly extinguished when Marco walked to the side. He immediately understood that the only way to head down from here would be to scale the side of this mountain which stood perhaps just a bit above a ninety degree angle.
Marco sighed. ‘I’m totally screwed, aren’t I?’
And he was cold, very cold.
Thankfully, he had a solution for the latter. As a reward for the first trial, he had received a brown coat donned with a hood covered in white fur. According to its description, it was supposed to provide him with moderate resistance to cold weather and increase his defense.
He didn’t hesitate to put it on. With a single thought, the coat materialized in front of him, and without wasting a second, Marco put it on top of the black tracksuit he wore as he returned from wrestling practice…. right before a lightning bolt struck him.
‘At least I wasn’t struck by another one before being brought here…’
Marco immediately felt warmer as he zipped up the coat, even in the areas of his body that were not covered. He stopped trembling, and though it was still a bit frisky, he at least felt comfortable enough not to complain about it. The coat truly worked as advertised.
It almost seemed magical, and it probably was, to be fair. This whole thing had to be magical. Monsters straight out of fantasy books, strange powers, and now he had even become a ‘Martial Artist’.
It was what he had ended up picking during the class selection process.
Alongside his current class, Marco had been offered the Warrior, and Archer classes. He did consider them for a moment, as he felt it would have been smarter to at least use a weapon against these monsters, but in the end, he chose Martial Artist.
He was a competitive wrestler before being transported to the tutorial, after all, and wrestling was a martial art. To choose that class just seemed… right.
The cold now being repelled by his coat, Marco could take a second to think. He seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, with no one in sight, and no way to call for help. So, what should he do? Where should he go?
He thought he should check if he had any skills that could help with his situation. Perhaps Martial Artists unlocked a flying skill or something similar at one point, who knew?
He already knew what [Dash] did, so he started with his class window.
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Class : Martial Artist
Level : 1
Rarity: Rare
Description : A Martial Artist’s greatest weapon is their fists, and their best defense is their skin. They embody the raw power that courses through their blood, fueled by a valiant heart and an unyielding spirit. Rejecting weapons, or armor, the Martial Artist wagers their very flesh in battle, securing victory through guts and grit. Their body is not a mere vessel, it is their greatest asset.
Class exclusive skills.
1st Skill : [Iron Body Lv. 1]
2nd Skill : [Power Surge Lv. 1]
3rd Skill: [Unlocked at class level 10]
4th skill: [Unlocked at class level 25]
Ultimate Skill: [Unlocked at class level 50]
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He smiled. He was still happy with his class choice, and it was rare to top it off, which had to be good.
Still, it wouldn’t be of help to him at that very moment. No new skill had appeared. He had already checked out [Iron body] and [Power Surge] during the class selection process. The former apparently granted him, and enhanced a new stat called ‘Toughness’. He could imagine its purpose from the name, but since the system didn’t give more information about stats, he could never be sure. The latter, meanwhile, according to the system, gave him an explosive all-around stat increase, in exchange for stamina.
He hadn’t tried it yet, and he surely wouldn’t do so on this forsaken mountain. What if it left him incapacitated after use? He wouldn’t want to die buried in snow up here without being able to do anything.
He closed his class window, and sighed.. Marco still did not know what to do. His skills sounded cool, but they were utterly useless here. He thought momentarily about using [Dash] repeatedly to cover as much distance as possible, and hopefully find a way down the mountain, but quickly discarded the idea.
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[Dash] cost ‘something’ within him, and he still didn’t know what. He had just understood during the goblin fight, that the more that ‘something’ disappeared, the harder it was to stay conscious. If he over used it, he feared he would end up in the same condition that he believed [Power Surge] would leave him in..
By all means, Marco’s situation was terrible..
He sighed again. ‘When in doubt, just move forward’
That was what his coach used to tell him, though that phrase was usually followed by ‘then go low and grab his legs’, but that didn’t make the first part any less applicable in this situation.
So Marco began his march.
After one hour, it seemed to him that the temperature had gotten colder, even penetrating the barrier created by his clothes. He could feel it gradually invading his body and slowing down his pace.
‘It’s fine.. It’s fine…I’m sure I’ll find a path down soon enough…’
After two hours, it began to snow. It wasn’t terrible, and nothing Macro couldn’t handle, but it still impeded his vision, and he had to pay more attention to where he placed his feet as he continued along the mountain chain.
‘Just a little snow never hurt anybody… I think.’
After three hours of walking without rest, the snowfall had gotten more ferocious, bordering a storm. Snow had accumulated up to his knees, making every step he took demand twice as much effort as it did in the beginning. And by that point, another problem had arisen. He was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since before wrestling practice, and with all this exercise, he had worked up an appetite. His stomach grumbled, but there was nothing to eat on this desolate mountain.
Except his own body, maybe, but they only did that stuff in survival movies. Where would he even cook it? Would he have to eat his own arm raw?
‘Let’s look at it positively… At least I won’t run out of water with all this snow. Wait… is it okay to drink snow water? Probably, right?’
Marco was an optimistic person. Perhaps he should have been more worried when he landed in this place, in a panic, even, but that just wasn’t him. He had been taught that giving way to negative emotions never solved any problems, it just created more of them. So, he liked to keep a positive outlook on things. He’d find a path down soon enough, and this would end up being nothing more than a bad memory.
After four hours, the temperature had dropped even further, and Marco found the tip of his fingers had changed in color slightly, going from their normal hue to a darker blue. These were the first signs of frostbite. He didn't dare remove his shoes to see how his toes were doing.
Walking for four hours by his lonesome in this setting was a challenge in and of itself, but doing so in the midst of what appeared to be a budding snow storm really tested his resilience. How many mountains had he crossed by now? He had no idea, and at this point, his hope of finding a path down seemed no more than a pipe dream. He could barely see in front of him because of all that snow, and the cold made it hard to even think.
‘Sh*t…I’m gonna make it out of here, right? If the imp sent me here just to die, I swear I’ll haunt it after I die!’ Marco thought before a soft chuckle escaped his mouth.
If he could still make jokes, then he wasn’t doing that terrible, and that reassured him.
The fifth hour was the most challenging. By that point, he could no longer feel his legs, and he wasn’t even sure if he was still walking in the same direction. For all he knew, he could have turned around at any moment and been none the wiser. He had stumbled and struggled to get up more than a few times, after all.
He thought of using one of his skills as a gamble, but that was just plain stupid no matter how he looked at it. He was already weak enough as is, and from their descriptions, he just didn’t see how they’d help him in a way that warranted the energy cost.
‘Damnit…’
Marco’s optimism was wavering. He was tired, hungry, and he was losing feeling in his extremities. His breathing was laborious, and every time he had to raise a leg, and push it against the snow to move forward, his energy depleted further.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was reaching the end of his rope. He really didn’t know how much longer he could go on.
“I…really hope… everyone else… is having a… hard time… t-”
A strong gust of wind suddenly sent Marco crashing face first into the snow. He sunk in, a few inches deep, at least…. But he did not get up immediately.
More than five hours he’d been walking. No one in sight, no way to leave, no food, and no hope. Just snow, everywhere. He couldn’t see himself, but he was sure that his lips had turned just from the way they felt. His fingers and toes, even if he descended the mountain and warmed up, Marco sensed that they were done for.
Was there really any meaning in continuing?
Realizing that he was giving up, Marco tried to push away the dark thoughts. ‘Just… a bit more… I’m sure something will turn up…’ He thought, failing to convince even himself.
As if it wasn’t bad enough, Marco also felt that what he was experiencing wasn’t ‘normal’ weather. The cold felt stronger than it should have been, and the longer he walked, the less he wanted to continue. It was as if the mountain was sapping more than just the warmth of his body.
If this continued, he-
“ARRGHHH” Marco shouted, and in one swift motion, he stood up.
“I’M NOT DYING HERE YOU @%$& MOUNTAIN!!!”
He looked ahead. He knew there would be no one, that nothing could save him, but if he continued to march forward, then Marco was convinced that his efforts would be rewarded eventually. Even if he had to walk for one hundred more hours.
As he expected, when he raised his head, and wiped the snow off his face, he saw nothing but the silhouette of a middle-aged man sitting with his legs crossed.
‘Just some old dude. Don’t be too disappointed. You knew there would be no one. Just keep walking, and-’
His eyes widened.
‘Just… some old dude…?’
He had to rub them a few times, just to make sure he had not gone crazy.
The sight refused to change, however. A middle-aged man with a large beard and short brown hair was sitting, shirtless, fifty meters or so, away from Marco.
‘Is this…Am I dead already!? Is this the afterlife!?’
He pinched himself, and didn’t feel anything, which could have suggested that this was indeed the after life, but that could have also been due to the extreme cold.
Should he approach? Marco couldn’t look away. This was the first person he’d met in hours. He had to talk to him, right? But then again, what kind of person meditated shirtless at the top of a frozen, deadly mountain? Only some lunatic would do that.
‘Do I really want to associate with that kind of person…?’ He asked himself.
Something whistled through the wind.
“Hmmm, how did someone like you reach up here?” A booming voice resonated behind Marco..
He had never let the man out of his sight, but it was only when he heard the voice that Marco realized that he was no longer there.
The young wrestler turned around in stupor, and the old man studied him, stroking his chin. “Do you know where you are, little one?”
Marco could barely speak, but he also couldn’t simply not answer. He mustered whatever strength he had left. “N-no. I-I’m l-like, s-s-super lost, o-old man.” He said, trembling.
The man blinked a few times, and then burst into laughter which resonated across the entire mountain range. If Marco had the energy to cover his ears, he would have done so. “HAHAHAH!! GREAT! THIS IS GREAT!”
The man kneeled, and it was only then that Marco realized just how massive he was. At least twice his height standing up, and just his arm must have been as large as Marco’s entire torso.
‘Is this guy even human!?’
The most glaring feature of the man, however, was a gruesome wound in the middle of his chest. It was the only scar he had on his body. Marco couldn’t fathom its origin,, and while it had mostly closed, it did not look like it would ever fully heal. Marco was no martial arts expert, and he could not yet sense the strength of his opponents, but just from the old man’s physique, Marco had a hard time imagining what kind of creature could do that to him.
It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it.
Meanwhile, the man studied Marco intently, lifting his arms, poking at certain areas of his body, and with another burst of laughter, he stood up.
“A Martial Artist who made it all the way up here and ran into me! This is no coincidence! This is fate!”
Marco raised an eyebrow.
“From today onward. You are my first, and only disciple!”
“Huh?”
Without waiting for a reply, the old man grabbed Marco’s waist and leaped off the mountain peak.
Gerard, also known as the Martial Emperor by most, and the ‘Meathead’ by a few, had selected a disciple he’d met by coincidence during one of his relaxation sessions.