The days turned into weeks. Sergei was relentless, pushing them past the point of breaking and then pushing them some more. Midnight hikes were merely the start, by the end of the first month the rookies had been burnt, battered and broken so many times they lost count. Broken bones became a daily occurrence and near death experiences were so common they’d become numb to it.
Then the first week came to an end and, rather than a celebration of their first week being over, Sergei gave them their first weekly exercise list. In addition to the commonplaceitems like ‘run x kilometers’ and ‘climb the bitten mountain x times’ there was one item that stood out; run the Punishment Gauntlet. Eight people quit by the start of the third week. When the next weekly list revealed the item ‘run the Punishment Gauntlet 2 times’ another twenty quit, unable to handle the idea of that much pain.
Sergei wasn’t sad to see them go. Adventuring was often filled with agony and if they were willing to quit when there was no risk of permanent injury or death then they would never handle the life of an adventurer. Besides, most of the ones who had left were sniveling nobles, the kind that made Sergei itch to take out a blade and cut them to tiny pieces.
By the end of the first month there were over a hundred left. Those who had stayed were determined to stay to the end, to beat the villain known as Sergei. Nothing could phase them anymore, not the midnight hikes, the naked marathons through thorn bush infested forests, or even the Punishment Gauntlet. Each person had already endured so much that giving up now felt like sacrilege.
Then Sergei revealed the true length of the Gauntlet. By removing one section of the stands an extra length of the Gauntlet could be revealed, tripling its length and adding more complex and more heinous traps. Parts of the new length included different climates, one section featuring temperatures above 50 degrees celcius and a floor made of lava while another section boasted tempretures below -50 degrees and a collection icicles that, in complete defiance of gravity, angled in every direction other than down.
Three people quit immediately.
The rest refused to give in. After all, they had already been burnt so many times, what would a dip in a lava pool do that they hadn’t already experienced? Besides, some of them had managed to get so good at figuring out the traps that they could almost complete a run without triggering any. Even if the new length had some complex traps they would figure them out soon enough.
They were wrong. The new sections, in addition to new and exciting climates, also came with enhanced pain enchantments, increasing the pain the rookies felt by 50%, and random trap triggers. Each time they came to a trap in the new sections it would have a different trigger, ranging from the more simple pressure plates and trip wires to more complex triggers like motion and timing sensitive. There were also new kinds of traps, ones that would go off unless a specific word or phrase is given or a distinct movement is made.
If the trick to passing the first section painlessly was to identify and avoid triggers then the trick for the second was simply to dodge the trap effects. The effects began with simple bolts, both magical and physical, before moving onto slashes, explosive bolts, enclosing walls and pit falls. Trying to evade the trap effects without triggering another trap was almost impossible but as they approached the end of the second month a few of them were showing promise.
With the third month came nothing new. The Gauntlet got no larger, the traps did not change any more than they already did and there was no change to the number of times they had to run the Gauntlet, the figure having stopped going up after reaching 7 a week. Instead, you could say that something old had come back; injuries.
The Punishment Gauntlet, or the Pain Gauntlet as it became known, no longer provided pure pain. It still gave heaps of agony, that would never change, but the enchantments that prevented injuries were turned off. From the start of the third month the only protection the gauntlet provided was against death. As soon as a rookie was about to shuffle off their mortal coil they would be teleported to the healers to be brought back from the brink for another round of pain and misery.
By the end of the month Sergei had almost reached his target, only sixty three rookies remained of the original hundred and fifty. If they had let him Sergei would have kept ramping up the pressure but sadly for him the powers that be had put a leash on him. He would have loved to have twelve more weeks to whip the stupid and weak out of the rookies, but sadly Sergei was expected to teach them more than how to endure pain and misery.
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“All right rookies, gather up!”
Johann looked up from where he had been doing quadruple gravity push-ups and quickly scrambled to his feet, his band reducing his gravity to normal as it sensed him no longer exercising. With a light jog he moved over to where the rest of the rookies had grouped up, his muscles grumbling but not yet complaining.
Despite his personal opinion on the psychological health of Instructor Sergei, which was dismal and rated PG-13, he had to admit that the man was a good trainer. The constant mind-numbing exercise had improved Johanns body to a level he had never thought he could reach. If the bands hadn’t restricted his access to his Status then he would likely have seen his attributes rise dramatically.
Sadly they did, which meant he would have to wait another three months to see how his attributes had risen, yet another way in which the training was similar to his father’s. Johann was now absolutely sure that his father had been through the training, he just wasn’t sure why the crazy guy had never mentioned it.
The other change was that he finally had his magic back. After three grueling months his mana channels had finally fully healed, his mana once again flowing through his body freely. In fact it seemed as if it was flowing even more freely than before, but without access to his status he couldn’t see if anything had changed.
Once everyone was there Sergei spoke. “Alright, you pieces of Ortrox dung managed to downright shock me and actually survive three whole months with me. As a reward for your perseverance there are going to be several changes, the first of which is the removal of the Punishment Gauntlet.”
Half the rookies stared at him in disbelief, the other half waited for the other shoe to drop.
Sergei scowled. “Don’t you give me those looks ya little shits, I can be nice. You maggots simply haven’t earned the privilege of seeing my nice side.”
He touched a button on his arm band and a familiar rumbling began as the gauntlet began to descend. “There, you believe me now?” Sergei grumbled before clearing his throat and wiping the scowl off his face. “The other change is that from now on we’ll be doing daily team battles. Every morning you’ll find a list detailing what team you’re on, with the fights taking place later on during the day.”
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“The fights aren’t just for training or the fun of destroying your enemies though, during every fight I’ll be judging and handing out points based on who performs the best. Those points will be taken in to account when deciding who graduates to a fully fledged Adventurer.”
Sergei’s words were like an earthquake in a library, creating turmoil and chaos in what once was order. Every rookie reacted differently, some excited and some nervous, but no one remained indifferent. Compared to an extended gauntlet or actual injuries, this change was something that would directly affect their future.
“I’ll decide in what format the fights will take and whether you get that info ahead of time or not. Some days you’ll get warning ahead of time and some days I’ll spring it on you without warning, like today. Today’s fight will be a Battle Royale, points will be given for each team taken out and if there is only one team left then their points will be doubled. The fight starts in one hour and spans the entire island. Good luck.”
With that he left, a small explosion sounding out as he broke the sound barrier in his exit. The sound was like a starter pistol, the group as one sprinting towards the barracks. There, alongside the daily and weekly exercise lists, was another piece of paper with a list of teams and the people in them. After a bit of a scramble and scuffle Johann managed to get close enough to scan through the list and find his name.
Team 9: Norman Ysgeler, Lyra Zervide, Hathor Treckle, Johann Alltud, Cathach Ní Duirnín
Johann was a bit dismayed that he wasn’t with either Gloria or Torin but he couldn’t spare a moment to think about that as he heard a voice yell out “Team nine, this way!”. Turning towards the voice he caught a glimpse of some red hair before a body blocked his view. Struggling through the crowd he made his way to the voice’s origin.
Arriving he found a slim man with a shock of blood red hair that was surprisingly neatly trimmed. Other than the hair the man was thoroughly plain looking, so much that he would have been completely forgettable if not for the hair, which Johann was guessing was dyed. The brown eyebrows that lay above his brown eyes certainly lent weight to that idea.
“Team nine?” The man asked.
“Yeah, name’s Johann, Druid.” Johann replied.
The man sighed. “Yeah, figures. Let’s leave introductions until we’re all together and far away from here.”
Johann frowned at the mans attitude but couldn’t say anything before they were approached by three others, a man and two woman. After ascertaining that they were also team nine they five of them departed, the red haired man insisting that they get far away before the hour was up. With no better ideas the rest agreed and began to run.
As they ran Johann took a look at the other three. The man stood out the most, being almost seven foot tall and completely bald he looked as if he was a smaller, less hairy version of Sergei with muscles bulging all over. Johann really hoped he was their tank because the man would be wasted as a healer. The large shield on his back made it seem likely but you could never be sure. An overly muscled healer carrying a large shield on their back was highly unlikely but ever since his initialization Johann had realized that there were far too many unlikely situations to ever assume anything.
The two girls that had joined them were similar in height and nothing else. Standing at around five and a half foot one was blonde with streaks of fiery red running through her head while the other had pale blue hair that was similar in color to Johann’s. The expressions on their faces were just as dissimilar, one sporting a scowl that spoke of annoyance and the other filled with worry.
The hour passed quickly enough, constant running putting them quite the distance from the compound they had started at. The area they were resting in was covered in trees, the biome leaning more towards forest than jungle.
“Alright, I think we should be far enough.” The red haired man said, his eyes scanning the surrounding trees.
“And why in the Hel are we so bloody far from everyone else? Why did you keep bloody well pushing us to keep running? You a coward?” The blonde girl ranted at red-hair, Johann guessed she was a melee attacker based on her demeanor and the sword strapped to her back.
Red-hair sighed. “Because we would’ve lost. Badly. Johann here” he gestured towards Johann “is a Druid and I’m a burglar. Two classes that are less combat based than most, very much less in my case. If we had stuck around and come up against any of the more combat focused teams they would have wiped the floor against us.”
Blonde looked over at Johann for a moment before frowning “Wait, aren’t you Captain Stupid?”
Johann sighed and ran a hand over his face. “No, my name is Johann Alltud. Sergei did call me that on the first day but it is a nickname I very much do not deserve.”
Blonde slumped. “Great. Two non-combat and one of them earned a nickname for stupidity.” She groaned and would’ve yelled at the sky if the weren’t in a battle royale. She turned towards Red-hair. “You made the right call, well done. How about we do introductions? My name is Cathach Ní Duirnín, I’m a warrior with a long ranged fire fire bolt spell. Aiming towards spellsword.”
She gestured towards the other girl, who’s look of nervousness and worry had never left. “My name is Lyra Zervide, I’m a healer.”
Johann waited a moment to see if she was going to add any more before he spoke. “As you know, I’m Johann Alltud, Druid. I actually have a decent damage output, enough to beat a Fire Mage.”
Cathach raised an eyebrow. “Is that with or without cracking your channels and nearly killing yourself?”
“Without. If I do it too much or too often in a short amount of time then I risk cracking my channels but as long as I can rest between fights I should be fine. Plus, that was before my channels were cracked. Without access to my status I have no idea exactly what it’s done to me but I’m willing to bet my mana channels are a lot stronger. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger after all.”
Cathach tilted her head as she ran her mind through the information he gave her. “Good to know, but don’t go all out until you know for sure. If you break yourself during a fight it’s not just your future you screw up, it’s mine as well.” Johann nodded.
The small giant spoke next. “Name’s Hathor. Tank.”
Red-hair asked “Not sure I need to ask, but are you a dodge or a vitality based tank?”
“Vitality. Troll.” Hathor answered.
Everyone else was surprised at that. Trolls were one of the best when it came to tanking, innate regeneration based on percentage per second rather than a given amount was one of the best traits when it came to self-healing. Depending on how strong his was Hathor could go from 0 to 100 in seconds even without outside healing.
If it wasn’t for their weakness to fire then Trolls would be one of the strongest races out there. Sadly, they were instead hunted to near extinction by Trait-hunters. It was only when a Troll managed to ascend to Tier 4 and subsequently began to wipe out anyone who had the trait but wasn’t born a Troll. To this day no one knew how he figured out who had the trait but the market for Troll Regeneration dried up fast.
Still, finding a Troll, and having one as a teammate, was a very nice surprise. Red-hair spoke up “Well, good to know. I think I speak for everyone when I say that information will stay between us. Anyways, my name is Norman Ysgeler and I’m a Burglar. The class is a non-violent version of a rogue so I don’t have any damaging class skills, but I more than make up for it in my trapping skills, both detecting and creating. Lends itself rather nicely to trap making, which I’ve already mastered the basic version of and I’m currently working towards mastering the intermediate version.”
The statement garnered some interest from Cathach who had started out grumpy but ended up quite intrigued. Having an intermediate skill before having a second tier class was unusual, and it denoted either talent or hard work, either of which were appreciated.
“Do you have any pre-made traps on you?” Cathach asked.
Norman nodded. “A few, though if I got the opportunity to create some using the environment then I could make them almost undetectable. I also have some decent stealth and scouting class skills.”
Cathach nodded appreciatively. “Alright, I think I’ve got a plan, but we should go over skills and see if we can’t make a better one.”