-oOo-

Chapter 3

-oOo-

Sylvia Swallow squinted.

The light outside the Academic Building was glaring. The sun hung on the horizon, shedding a brilliant cheery glow. The intense rays swept over the grounds, glinting off a thousand beads of dew. A shimmering curtain of diamonds glimmering on every blade of grass.

A cool breeze made the trees rustle. The comfortable chill brushed past Sylvia’s face, sending her long, silver hair aflutter. Annoyed, she reached up and brushed back the few stray locks that teased her face.

Long hair sucked, she decided.

For some unfathomable reason, the Academy had resolved to torture the new students on their first day. A pile of introductions had followed their first two classes. Fields Studies. Nether History. A brief explanation of clubs: hunters, potions, charm, curses, chess, and more. They even had something similar to a D&D club. By the end she’d endured ten hours of lectures. The experience had been harrowing, leaving Sylvia drained.

But finally, they were free….

… free to attend another class.

She was in Hell.

After wiggling her ponytail in irritation, Sylvia glared up at the sky.

“Is it just me, or does it still feel like morning?” she groused.

The low sun tinted the sky with a hint of orange. This could’ve been the sign of evening. But, taking into account the morning the dew and the cool air just touched by the sun’s heat, Sylvia felt as though not a second passed since her awakening.

Riley turned her gaze up, shadowing her intense green eyes with a hand. “Weird,” the blonde looked around, trying to get her bearings. “I’m pretty sure the sun’s still on the same side.”

“Timeless Beryl Wilderness,” Sylvia recalled. Then she scowled. “I think I know where the word ‘timeless’ comes from. This is going to get real annoying when it’s time for bed.”

“You sure we sleep?” Riley joked.

Sylvia’s shoulders dropped. “Ugh. I’m hungry. I want to shit post on the internet. And the fucking sun can’t even be bothered to move. I hate this place already.”

Their group was headed toward Armed Combat. This bought Sylvia to the Grounds, just west of the Academic Building.

At the very least, their marathon run of classes finally let them move rather than forcing them to sit.

The Grounds consisted of a set of sporting fields. Some had low grass. Others were circles of dirt. Shacks, racks, and dugouts held appropriate equipment. Between the fields a scattering of trees grew, sometimes thick or thin. This gave the space a private feeling.

Riley peered at the fields curiously, bouncing with a hint of excitement. Sylvia traced her gaze to another class of witches gathering in an open field. She wondered if Riley was the sporting type.

“Shit post on the internet?” the blonde suddenly asked. Riley’s grin turned sly. “Don’t tell me you were a neckbeard.”

“I’ll have you know, I was always clean-shaven,” Sylvia pronounced with great authority.

As for the company ‘Eric’ kept…. Back then it was basically him, his hand, and his computer. The less said about Eric’s internet ‘friends’ the better. Even before turning into a girl, Sylvia felt that most of them were slime.

The class piled up on a small grass pitch. The rounded field was no more than twenty meters in diameter. The center was filled by a cloth covered cage. Deep growls and skittering claws sounded from within. Several girls shuddered.

With her back against the cage, a redheaded woman waited.

Their latest professor was armed and armored. A leather corslet covered her chest, while boots, bracers, and a plated skirt guarded the rest of her body. Thighs and biceps were left bare, reminding Sylvia of a roman soldier. On the redhead’s back was a bone blade. The two-handed sword stopped near the woman’s knees, the breadth matching the thickness of her waist.

The redhead spat before stepping away from cage.

“Brats from Origin.”

Their teacher swaggered forward, her slit eyes radiating contempt. She was tall. No, tall didn’t do her justice. The teacher was two full heads taller than Natalie Ward. And that was ignoring the pair of horns growing from the redhead’s skull.

Sylvia felt as though she were twelve when set beside her.

The woman sneered.

“Never held a weapon. Never been in a fight. Never killed – ”

Riley flinched. The woman rolled on, reaction unnoticed.

“ – Trash,” the professor pronounced. The redhead’s lips spread in a broad, toothy smile. Her canines longer and sharper than they ought. Suddenly, the woman lunged. A few girls squeaked, flinching back. “Pathetic.”

“Hey!” Riley shouted, green eyes burning with anger.

Whoomph.

The instructor’s sword flashed, ripping through the air, stopping just short of the blonde’s nose. Despite being carved from bone, the blade was terrifyingly sharp.

“Got a problem with that, girlie?”

“I’ve got a problem with bullies,” Riley retorted, uncowed.

The woman stared, her slit yellow eyes glaring into Riley’s own. Then, the redhead’s lips quirked. Whoosh. The sword returned to the woman’s back.

“You’ve got spirit. I like it,” she praised. “But here in the nether, spirit gets you nowhere.” The teacher turned to the group then added, louder. “If you want to get somewhere in this world, you need strength.”

The redhead stomped on the ground in emphasis.

“To you brats, I’m Instructor Isabella. I’m not your friend. And I’m not your professor. I don’t teach worth shit and I don’t know the first thing about magic. What I know, is how to turn newborn demons into fighters. And that’s what you’ll learn here. How to fight. How to kill. And most importantly, how to live.

Isabella paused then sneered.

“Either that, or you’ll learn to scream, cry, and die.”

The redheaded instructor chuckled. Sylvia suspected that the redhead would be happy enough with either outcome.

“Now, I’m guessing at least one of you snotty brats bothered to learn the name of this class. Maybe you’re even thinking something stupid like: ‘I’m a witch, why do I need take Armed Combat’?” Isabella’s lips spread in a broad, evil smile. “The answer? Ha ha ha.”

Laughing, Isabella whipped the cloth cover off the wooden cage. Trapped behind wooden bars were three quadrupedal creatures. Thick limbs. Ruddy red hide. Talons as long as knives. The bare, leathery skin was only broken by their fluffy tails and a patch of fur running down their back. The beasts stood, one by one. Vicious eyes focused on the gaggle of girls standing beyond their prison. Maws parted, dripping with saliva. The rows of sharp teeth were far longer than any natural beast deserved.

If Sylvia were generous, she might call them wolves.

And for a lack of a better word, Sylvia treated them as such.

Three, hideous wolves prowled. Talons clicking against the wooden floor. Sylvia shuddered. The presence of such a beast invoked a primal terror. A horror augmented by the slow comprehension of what was to come.

“Grab a spear,” Isabella ordered. Her lips twisted into a horrifying smile. “Or don’t. It’s all the same to me.”

“She’s got to be joking,” Riley hissed, her body rigid.

Sylvia gulped. From where she was standing, Sylvia could see Isabella slowly raise one finger, than another.

“Shit! Get a spear!” Sylvia shouted. The silver haired girl didn’t waste a second before following her own advice.

“This is insane, those things mass twice what we do!” Riley spat. Then the blonde looked around, seeing her classmates still standing stunned. “What the hell are you waiting for? Take one!”

As she spoke, Riley tore five polearms from the weapon rack. Without hesitation, she tossed four of them, shaft forward, to her nearby classmates. Three were caught clumsily. The last bounced off a blue haired girl’s head, waking her from her daze.

After raising the fingers on her left hand twice, Isabella strolled to the cage’s door. Shhfft. The redhead pulled the wooden bolt back.

“The rules of today’s lesson are simple. Kill these three beasts and you live. Don’t and you die. Try to run away?” The redhead laughed cruelly, whipping the broad blade off her back. “Then I’ll gut you like the cowardly shit you are.”

With that said, Isabella threw open the cage’s door. One hop put redhead atop its roof.

“Aren’t you going to teach us anything first?” a long haired brunette screeched.

“Oh, you want lessons?” Isabella crowed from safety. “Here’s one. Stab them with the pointy end! That always works better!”

The first wolf emerged. The creature moved slowly, yet smoothly. Its long talons dug into the grass, drawing lines of brown and black where once stood green. Terrified students stepped back, fearful of the beast’s approach. Sylvia glanced across the group, her expression turning bitter. A third of them were still unarmed.

A second followed the first. It dropped from the cage with cat-like grace. The third came right on its heels, dark, hungry eyes taking in the delectable buffet of witches set before it.

The world stood still.

Crunch!

Red and green streaked. Five meters were crossed in an instant. Time was like a still frame. A massive wolf perched on the shoulders of a delicate witch. Steel jaws clamped around her alluring neck. Then the flow resumed. The raven haired girl smashed into the grass, talons sinking through skin as though it were butter. The beast’s head shifted.

C-crack.

Bone splintered. Flesh tore. A head hit the ground, then rolled. The face, a rictus of existential horror.

Girls started to scream.

“The beryl blood wolf is a class I, mid-ranked phantasmal creature,” Isabella narrated. The redhead’s powerful voice pierced the cacophony, clinical and commanding. “They are bigger than you, faster than you, and stronger than you.”

While atop the cage Isabella stood rational, in the crowd a wave of madness descended. Shrieks and howls banished all thought. The talons of terror shredded all sanity. Two more wolves surged forward unopposed, releasing a flood of red as they rent their victims into parts.

A beast flashed across Sylvia’s vision, landing atop a blonde to Sylvia’s right.

Crack!

Sylvia didn’t know if the thing breaking was her mind or the other girl’s neck. A steady, psychotic scream filled her ears. Cognition stopped. Her brain glitched. She felt as though she were frozen, yet the wolf loomed closer. Closer and closer. Then –

Thfft.

A jolt ran down the haft of her spear. Sylvia stood dazed and confused. She gazed at her weapon without comprehension. Wood was pointed forward, piercing through the wolf’s neck. The tip beyond buried deep in the earth.

“Looks like we’ve got a wild one!” Isabella cried, like a sports announcer captured by a brilliant play. “But this isn’t the material world. Phantasms don’t die that easy.”

The beryl blood wolf howled.

The beast twisted. The force of its motion translated through her weapon’s handle. The shock shook Sylvia from her mania. Instinctively, she adjusted her weight, resisting the wolf’s strength.

But she was too weak. More importantly, she was too light. As the creature turned, Sylvia found herself lifted clean off the ground.

“Aaaaahhh!” she shrieked like a little girl.

The haft bounced. Elastic motion threw Sylvia’s feet above her head. The wolf span again, confused by the mobile prey clinging to the stick stuck through its neck. Sylvia whipped through the air then – THUD! – smashed into the ground so hard her vision went black.

Her ears rang.

A beast growled.

Sylvia’s senses returned just in time to watch the enraged monster willfully drive her spear deeper through its body just to reach her. A taloned paw slammed down on her chest, heavy enough Sylvia could feel her ribs crack. Claws dug in, puncturing through cloth and skin. Knives of fiery agony piercing into her innards.

The wolf’s maw opened, teeth crackling with red energy.

Thffft!

Out of nowhere, a second spear punched into the wolf’s chest, slicing through flesh before piercing out the other side. Rattled by the blow, the beast’s teeth snapped short, spraying spittle on Sylvia’s face. Above her, Riley wrestled with her spear trying to shove the creature aside.

“You’re fucking insane!”

Riley’s shout drew Sylvia’s gaze up. The blonde was grinning like a crazy woman. The wolf twisted, and turned, trying to escape. Its foot lifted, talons tearing. Blood bubbled and oozed, thick and goopy. Sylvia hardly noticed it. Her mind was so taken by the heat of battle, she barely felt the pain.

Instead, she rolled, escaping out from under the distracted beast. Jumping to her feet, Sylvia seized her spear. Then she lifted. The weight of two witches was too much. The wolf howled, feet scrapping as it attempted to gain purchase on the earth.

Heart pounding, teeth grit, Sylvia spared a glance back. A blonde corpse was on the ground no more than two meters from her, slowly disintegrating.

Ah. The class had more than one blonde. Ha ha ha.

“The beryl blood wolf has two innate abilities,” Isabella roared, her voice rising over the din. “Wind dash and blood fang. When using wind dash its ki will take on a greenish tint, and the beast’s speed and acceleration will increase by half. Blood fang fills its teeth with crimson energy. With it, it can slice though flesh and make your blood flow out like water.”

The blood wolf jerked angrily, struggling against the two girls. Heavy, jarring force jolted through Sylvia frame. For a moment, the silver haired girl wished she still had the obese body of Eric Swallow.

C-crack.

The sound was soul rending. Wood splintered. Sylvia’s stalwart spear bent as the material yielded. The wolf lunged forward, its left foreclaw ripping through air. Syliva grunted and shoved. Snap. Her weapon broke in twine, but not before she nudged the creature to the side.

The wolf scampered. Riley wrestled for control, but the beast was too strong for one girl to manage on her own. The creature quickly found its footing.

Then it lunged.

Sylvia reacted through pure instinct.

A wood haft smashed into Sylvia’s palms. She flew back, carried by the body of a massive wolf. By pure luck, the beast’s claws landed on either side of her abused chest. The wolf’s muzzle struggled toward her face, jaw barred by the other half of Sylvia’s spear. The wolf ground at the wood in its maw, crimson energy tearing the handle into fibers.

Thffft.

A third weapon rammed into the wolf’s rump. Brilliant light crackled down the spear’s length, ripping through the wound. The wolf howled, its angry roar transforming into a high pinched whine. For the first time, Sylvia felt the beast’s muscles slack as though it had taken a terrible blow.

Mana!

The instant she saw it, Sylvia understood. With mad determination, she released the broken handle of her spear. The distracted wolf didn’t notice, giving her just enough time to lurch forward and grab the other half of her weapon, which was still thrust right through the wolf’s neck.

Then Sylvia let loose with everything she had.

Glenda’s lesson was clear in her mind. The feel. The experience. The intent. It was natural. Easy. Like moving an arm. Energy exploded out in an uncontrolled flood, flashing with silver light. It crackled like lightning, crawling down the weapon’s haft straight into the blood wolf’s neck.

The beast trembled as though electrocuted.

With a whine, the wolf slumped. Shink. Thfft. The new girl was merciless. Without hesitation, the short haired brunette drew her spear back then stabbed the wolf again. Golden energy jolted the creature a second time.

The beast’s body shuddered once more. Then it fell.

Right on top of Sylvia’s chest.

Sylvia groaned. She grit her teeth against the pain and tried to squirm free. No luck. Breath wheezing she slumped under the wolf, watching with confusion as flesh and fur slowly dissolved into mist. Something flowed out only to be drawn inside of her.

Experience?

Sylvia perked. Excitement was almost enough to banish her pain.

“Uhm,” the new girl noised shyly. “Are you okay?”

Sylvia looked up.

The new girl was tiny, a touch smaller than Sylvia herself. She had pretty, brown hair that swept out adorably around her ears and shoulders. Her face and figure were so delicate Sylvia felt the brunette would break at the slightest touch.

She was cute. Very cute. Not unsurprising. Every girl in Sylvia’s class was good-looking. Sylvia suspected that was a perk which came with being a starlight witch.

While Sylvia stared, the petite brunette peered down with curious emerald eyes.

“I’m fine… I think,” Sylvia groaned.

On second thought. She wasn’t fine. She was very much the opposite of fine. While Sylvia’s mind flailed, a name made its way to the forefront. Emily Clark. That was the girl’s name. Emily Clark.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Riley said.

The blonde leaned into her spear, shifting the blood wolf’s corpse. With a portion of the weight lifted and another part turned into fog, Sylvia wiggled out from underneath. Small spikes of pain shot through her when she moved, reminding Sylvia that she came very close to being eviscerated.

Actually, come to think of it, her wound hurt a lot less than Sylvia would’ve imagined.

Standing shakily, she resisted the urge to check her status sheet. Instead, Sylvia stooped down and grabbed a discarded spear to replace her old one.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but,” Riley said, drawing her weapon from the corpse. The blonde gave the haft a quick check over. “There’s two more.”

The first thing Sylvia noticed was that half the class was dead.

Two bodies laid scattered along the tree line, sliced in half by Isabella’s cruel sword. Others were strewn about the field’s center, limbs sundered, clothes and bodies slowly dissolving into light. Invisible energy spread from each, forming a strange, hidden fog. Sylvia could feel it sinking into her. But only a portion. The rest slowly spread out diffusing into the great beyond.

But right now, at this moment, Sylvia took no joy in it. The scene was far too grim.

Among the dead stood survivors. A courageous squad of seven was lead by Natalie. Spears out, they hounded a blood wolf, closing in from all sides. The beast’s bloody hide was a testament to their success. The last wolf though, prowled around a group of three girls, one of which was bleeding out on the ground.

Sylvia couldn’t help but notice how lucky it was they still had so many fighting. If she hadn’t snapped and caught their wolf by surprise, then the class might well have lost another three to five.

“If we’re already dead, then we should be able to come back again, right?” Emily whispered, hiding behind her spear.

“Can you promise that?” Riley snapped.

Riley’s question hung in the air. Nobody could promise that. The three of them had been in the netherworld for less than a day. Most of what they knew was guesswork rather than certainty. So while Sylvia felt Emily had a point, she couldn’t deny Riley’s concern.

The blonde’s hands tightened on her spear until her knuckles went white. Then Riley shot forward, bellowing, “Use your mana!”

Fuck. Sylvia dashed in Riley’s wake. So much for hanging back and letting the others do their part.

“Ah,” Emily echoed behind, before following.

Riley charged toward the group of three, spear at the fore. But this time the blood wolf wasn’t caught off guard.

As the blonde’s spear lanced in, the beast’s paws pattered. The creature floated back with unnatural grace, skittering just out of reach. Then, when Riley’s strike was fully extended, the wolf lit with a green hue. One foot touched the earth. The beast blurred, vanishing only to reappear at Riley’s flank.

Sylvia lunged.

The long leap threw Sylvia off balance, but the flash of her spear forced the beast to abandon its attack. The wolf’s claws tore through grass and dirt as it slid to a stop. Sylvia stumbled for three steps before restoring her balance. Sensing weakness, the creature snapped forward with another strike.

Sylvia wanted to cry. Why is it always me!

Twisting desperately, Sylvia imposed the shaft of her spear between her and the wolf. The next instant, the creature slammed into her. The beast’s mass sent her tumbling onto her back. Moving too fast, the creature’s flailing claws flew over her, rolling with the silver haired witch.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

…

She totally meant to do that.

Thffft!

Emily’s weapon struck at the perfect moment, the bladed tip punching straight through the creature’s ribs. Light surged with golden force, sizzling through the wolf’s flesh. The beast howled, twisting angrily to face its attacker. Sylvia scrambled to her feet.

“Haa!”

Riley was faster. With a shout, the blonde rammed her weapon into the wolf’s back. Green light crackled. The blade bit flesh, then skittered off the beast’s hip.

“Shit!” Riley cursed.

The wolf went wild.

It whirled, throwing the delicate brunette into the air. Emily’s weapon cracked. The girl flew three meters before landing, impossibly, on her feet as though she were a cat. Sylvia rushed forward only to realize that, during the earlier scuffle, she’d lost her spear.

So Sylvia did the next best thing. She jumped on the beast’s back.

Only to recall that ‘she’ was a no longer a three-hundred pound ‘man’.

While Sylvia was small, her momentum was not. The two went down in a pile of flesh and fur. Arms wrapped around wolf’s neck, Sylvia clamped herself to wolf’s back. The world whirled. The wolf span then rolled. It bucked, turned, and twisted trying to throw her off.

“Shit,” Riley cursed. “I can’t hit it while you’re on its back!”

“The second I let go, it’ll rip me apart!” Sylvia cried back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The field was a blur. Her guts and ribs screamed in agony. Was she going to die here?

You know what, screw it.

Sylvia pushed off. Grip loosened, the wolf’s turn sent her spinning across the ground. The angry beast regained its footing in a second, then dashed straight at her. Helpless, Sylvia could only watch in horror as the creature struck.

Riley slammed in from the side.

Ssshunk!

This time her spear found the wolf’s belly and punched clean through. The blonde’s weight was small, but the sudden shock threw the beast to Sylvia’s right.

But in her rush, Riley forgot to release her mana.

The rolling ball of red and silver transformed into a ball of red and gold as Riley and the wolf went tumbling down together. Dizzily, Sylvia spotted Emily circling while holding Sylvia’s discarded spear in hand. The girls Riley saved? They hung back, too cautious to lend aid.

Fucking cowards.

“Use your mana!” Sylvia screamed in reminder, as she struggled to her feet.

Green light crackled. The wolf whimpered. The shock slowed the beast, granting Emily the opening she’d been looking for. The tiny brunette’s thrust took the creature right in the neck before inundating it with golden light.

The beast went slack.

Huffing, Riley rolled away. The blonde stood shakily, her breath huffing in and out. “How on earth did you deal with that bullshit twice?”

“Poorly,” Sylvia grumbled.

Dizzy, she slumped to the ground, falling onto her butt. Sylvia cupped her stomach and looked down. Thick, red, sticky, jelly-like liquid oozed from the holes punched into her chest. Small gaps were torn through her robes and flesh.

But the blood on her hand was definitely not human.

And the holes in her clothes were slowly filling in.

This was the netherworld. The more Sylvia experienced, the more she felt that the logic this place operated on differed greatly from that which she was familiar.

“Congratulation.”

Isabella’s shout called everyone to attention. Sylvia’s eyes swept the grounds. All three wolves were dead, their carcasses slumped on the ground transforming into ooze and mist. In this last fight, two more students passed. Of the three they’d saved, one died to blood loss. Among Natalie’s group, another croaked while facing the final beryl blood wolf.

“Give yourselves a hand, brats. I’m officially impressed,” Isabella continued callously. “The last few batches the Academy gave me got wiped out.”

Isabella strolled around the field, observing the students that survived. Some looked worn. Some looked broken. Some trembled. Some cried. Riley’s visage was cold. Sylvia imagined that she appeared as dead on the outside as she felt on the in.

Isabella slammed her bone sword into the dirt. Shocking the group to attention.

“There are things that can only be understood after experiencing them. Death. Terror. You’ve tasted both,” Isabella said. “You’ll understand the other side of the netherworld tomorrow, when your companions killed on this field meet you confused and distraught.”

Riley let out an uneasy breath, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“But that’s not the lesson I’m teaching today. That’s just a happy accident.” Isabella smirked. “The lesson of this class is simple. It’s one that will be drilled into your head whether you lived or died. Whether you fought, ran, or cowered. You. Are. Weak.”

Isabella’s blunt words struck the group like a hammer. With slit eyes, she scanned the crowd cold and uncaring. Riley scowled. The green-eyed blonde clenched a hand. Sylvia didn’t blink. She already knew it, but she had to admit that knowing she was weak and feeling it were two different things.

No, most of the girls here were worse than weak.

They were cowards.

How many students were still standing? Eleven. How many would be alive if everyone had fought right from the start? Not thirty, that’s for sure. But twenty was definitely possible.

But what else could be expected? Even Sylvia couldn’t say that she would’ve fought if she hadn’t snapped early on. To a society which had lived so long in peace, battle was a mere abstraction. A fantasy told in movies, video games, and story books. What did it have to do with the real world?

Well. It was real now.

“The netherworld is cruel,” Isabella pronounced, striding down the length of the group. “It will hurt you. It will kill you. It will break you. It will enslave you.”

The redhead sneered when a few girls flinched.

“Slavery is part of Hell. Cry all you want, but there are far worse places to be born than the Academy.” Isabella lips turned into a grin. “But that’s only half of this world. The netherworld is place of miracles. The dead rise. The weak endure a thousand years. The strong stand for ten-thousand. Love. Wealth. Power. Romance. If you want them, they are there for the taking.

“But not for the weak!”

Isabella’s shout jolted the group.

“Strength is your only ally. Strength is your only friend. Weak girls are no more than toys of men. But if you are strong? Then you will walk these planes as though they were Elysium.

“You are witches. Be proud of it. Magic is a potent force. It can create. It can destroy. There is no surer path to wealth than magic. But in this world, everyone fights. Violence is an inescapable part of the nether. Only through force of arms can you earn respect. Only the strong can hold onto freedom. Without strength, whatever you obtain will soon be stripped from your hands by the rotten and the greedy.

“I can’t make you strong. I’m a warrior, not a mage. My path is not your path. But I can teach you how to fight. How to kill. How to endure pain, face suffering, and overcome cruelty.

“Now, grab your spears, brats. And don’t give me any whining about how you’re hurt, because the nether won’t give a damn. Your bodies can take it. And if it can’t?” Isabella turned and spat. “There are worse things than death, especially in the nether. So you better get used to dying.”

-oOo-

“I can’t believe that bitch,” Riley swore.

Sylvia stumbled along behind, wincing with every step. The remainder of Isabella’s lesson involved weapon drills. Thrusts, strikes, movements and footwork. The redheaded dragon lady hadn’t been kind either. She’d screamed in the face of any student who moved slow or fucked up.

Being wounded, Sylvia had often been party to that abuse.

Still, no amount of pain or injury could kill Sylvia’s smile.

Name Sylvia Swallows Class Apprentice Witch Level 8+30 Exp 673 / 90 HP 46 / 85 MP 149 / 158 Str 3 Mag 9 Vit 3 Spr 10 Agl 3 Wit 10

Six-hundred and seventy-three experience points. Six-hundred and seventy-three! Every time Sylvia saw the number, a giddy feeling filled her head. It was a value so beautiful that Sylvia could almost forgive the ‘s’ tagged onto the end of her last name.

Six-hundred and seventy-three!

That was fifty-six years and one month in old Earth leveling terms. How wonderful. How truly wonderful. Sylvia felt as though she were in a dream.

A good one this time.

Then, as usual, her glee was replaced by dread. Forty-six hit points. Sylvia shuddered. She had come halfway to death and that was with a beryl blood wolf digging its claw in by accident. What if it got a clean strike? Or if those jaws had managed to snag her around the throat?

Yes. She’d resurrect. That much was confirmed. Well, not fully. Sylvia wouldn’t trust resurrection until she saw it with her own two eyes. But Sylvia was confident Isabella hadn’t lied. Damned capitalists would never let debtors off that easily.

No. The important question was, if Sylvia died, what would happen to her precious experience points? Those were six-hundred and seventy-three innocent points of experience that had never done anyone wrong. Would she keep them? Would they be lost forever?

Was this a damned souls game?

No, no, no. That possibility was too horrible to contemplate. Sylvia had to turn her experience into levels immediately. That was the only way to keep her precious safe.

…

Actually, come to think it, would she die when her hit points reached zero? Not all games worked like that.

A morbid curiosity filled her.

“Are you okay, Sylvia?” Emily asked, looking worried.

Sylvia banished her thoughts. Levels first. Madness later. “I’m better than I should be.”

“Was Isabella trying to traumatize her students,” Riley growled, continuing her rant. “And I can’t believe you didn’t just sit it out.”

“I figured she’d off me if I complained,” Sylvia said, cynically.

Riley might’ve forgotten the students Isabella cut down, but Sylvia hadn’t. Also, Sylvia had six-hundred and seventy-three experience points she had to protect. Did she mention the six-hundred and seventy-three experience points?

Riley’s nose scrunched as her scowl grew deeper. Sylvia thought the blonde looked similar to an angry kitten.

“What class is next?” Sylvia inserted, changing the subject.

“The schedule says ‘cultivation’,” Emily answered, sounding confused. “But the notes say it’s not mandatory until our mentors are chosen next week.”

Sylvia’s gaze shifted to the tiny, brown haired girl. After Armed Comba,t Emily had attached herself to their group. With her shy and adorable character, Sylvia couldn’t help but feel Emily was out of place. Emily all but radiated sweet femininity. In contrast, Riley was a tomboy and Sylvia a ‘man’ transformed into a woman.

At least, Sylvia hoped she came across as masculine. She did have some masculine pride, damn it.

Detecting Sylvia’s unease, Emily stepped close, clasping the silver haired girl’s hands between her own.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay,” she encouraged. “You’re strong. And brave!”

Sylvia blushed. She could feel Emily’s soft hands wrapped around her own. Her warmth. Her closeness. Her lingering scent. Emily’s pure emerald eyes gazed into hers. The irises dark, shadowy, and beautiful. The pupils shimmering, star filled voids.

Sylvia could lose herself in them forever.

Uncomfortable, she stepped back. Sylvia wasn’t used to being physically close to a beautiful woman. Or anyone for that matter. But mostly, she stepped back because her body was starting to react in ways that were as familiar as they were alien.

“Thanks?” Sylvia said weakly. She felt like a sleaze.

Emily giggled.

“Sylvia’s a shy girl,” she teased. Then her eye’s brightened. The brunette clenched each fist adorably. “I know! We should rush to the dorms and choose our room before anyone else selects theirs!”

“She’s not shy,” Riley corrected, patting her morose silver haired friend on the shoulder. “And dorm rooms are assigned to groups of three. I figured Sylvia and I would pair up, but…”

“Eh?” Emily noised. She pushed her hands together cutely. “I… I can’t?”

Riley’s gaze flickered back to Sylvia. Riley’s green eyes were vivid and bright, glowing with life and intensity. Emily’s, by contrast, were like a dark jewel in the night. Both incredibly beautiful.

Sylvia was suddenly curious, what did her eyes look like?

“You want to tell her or should I?” the blonde stated.

Oh. That. Sylvia grimaced.

She didn’t want to talk about it. The Academy might have laid down the law, but Sylvia had never planned to run around in the halls shouting: ‘I’m a man!’ to anyone who cared to listen. Bigots were, unfortunately, a sizable proportion of the world’s population. Sylvia would rather not deal with those assholes.

Especially when her transformation wasn’t by choice.

“I’m not supposed to say,” Sylvia reminded, knowing she was making an excuse.

“I’m fine with it,” Riley made clear. “I don’t care about your past. But if we’re going to dorm together, Emily has the right to know.”

Yeah. That was bullshit. Did lesbians have to come out of the closet to live with another girl? Then why did Sylvia have to declare her former sex? How the fuck was her circumstances different? Sylvia got Riley’s point. If the shoe was on the other foot, she might have agreed. Hypocrisy was human.

Riley must’ve read her glare. “I don’t want to deal with a lot of drama six months from now.”

Shit. Sylvia couldn’t disagree with that. Know what, swapping sexes sucked. Life was easier as a man.

Or, at the very least, more familiar.

“Uhmm,” Emily noised, glancing between the two of them.

Sylvia sighed, then held out a hand as though facing an executioner. “Hi, I’m Eric. Eric Swallow.”

Emily titled her head, but took the offered palm and gave it a gentle shake. “Hello?”

“She’s a man,” Riley said bluntly. Then she gave the silver haired girl a look. “Well. She was a man. I’m assuming you’ve got the right parts below because you definitely have the right ones up top.”

“Eh? Eh. Eh!” Emily noised with growing alarm. The brunette stepped back looking flustered. “I’m sorry. I must’ve…. Ah! Wait! I didn’t mean… that is… you didn’t seem like….” Emily paused, finally catching herself before probing cautiously. “You’re very cute?”

Watching the brunette scramble, Sylvia couldn’t help but lament, “I’d rather not be praised as cute.”

“But you are!” Emily insisted. “You’re super cute.”

Sylvia’s eye twitched. Way to drive that knife in a second time like a serial killer. Emily giggled again. Sylvia wasn’t sure how old the brunette was on the inside, but as an adult Sylvia refused to get dragged into childish arguments.

Even if it was completely obvious that there was nothing cute about her.

Nothing. At all. Yes, Sylvia hadn’t looked at herself in a mirror yet, but she knew it deep in her soul. She might be cool, or handsome, but never, ever cute.

“I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself,” Sylvia pushed. “People can be shit. And I was all but told that I’m not allowed to talk about it.”

A day of classes had improved Sylvia’s opinion of the Academy. The teachers were definitely here to teach. So long as they didn’t start breaking out brainwashing devices or engaging in casual torture, Sylvia could probably put up with the school for the next few months.

Especially since she was going to learn magic.

Also, you know, Sylvia didn’t want to end up on the streets. Or a slave. And definitely not as a slave working the streets.

“I will,” Emily promised. Then the brunette showed a brilliant smile. “So… the three of us will room together then? Ah. I want a window facing the Academy. The flower gardens are so pretty.”

“Sounds like its decided then,” Riley said. The blonde’s expression turned skeptical. “But do we get to choose?”

“Of course! The rules say, dorm rooms are first come, first served,” Emily informed eagerly. The brunette looked anxiously between the pair. “Then?”

Sylvia shrugged, wincing when her insides shifted. “I really don’t care.”

“Knock yourself out,” Riley permitted.

Emily’s eyes brightened. No longer able to stand still, the delicate girl dashed off excitedly. Sylvia watched the brunette vanish before finding a stone bench to sit on. A slight hiss escaped the silver haired girl as she set herself down.

“Shit. I should’ve asked if you’re okay standing,” Riley said, rushing forward to help.

Sylvia waved her off. Curious, she lifted the edge of her green dress. Her skin was smooth and pale. The soft, creamy surface was so flawless that Sylvia’s breath caught. Her cheeks lit lightly as her male mind reacted to her body’s beauty.

But this perfection was marred. From her pale skin grew bulbous, red growths. The smallest lump was the size of a fingernail. The largest as broad as knuckle. Each was nestled exactly where the wolf’s claws sunk in. Scabs of some sort.

They looked more like tumors.

She was not human.

Sylvia probed one of the lumps experimentally. It wobbled under pressure, releasing a funny, tingly feeling. It hurt. A little. But only kinda-sorta.

“Careful there, you’re flashing the world,” Riley commented, impishly.

Sylvia dropped the edge of her dress. “Ugh. Forgot I wasn’t wearing pants.”

She didn’t know how she forgot, because now Sylvia was once again hyper aware of the cool breeze kissing her thighs.

“It’s just us girls here at the Academy,” Riley said, “But keep it in mind. I don’t think it’s smart to give men around here ideas.”

Sylvia shuddered. Just the thought of men perving on her made her feel gross and violated. No wonder girls stuck to their cliques.

Riley smirked, cute freckles wrinkling.

“Not so fun, huh, when the shoe’s on the other foot.” The blonde paused, scratching a cheek. “I want to take a look around, but if you need me – ”

Sylvia shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I want to think about things,” Sylvia said, tapping her head. “And it’s not like I can die.”

Riley frowned. “Don’t. Not until we see the others come back. And not until we really know the consequences.” The girl’s intense green eyes swept the grounds cautiously. Then she continued with a hushed voice. “I don’t trust them.”

And she shouldn’t.

“I’ll look around then,” Riley said, finally. “And I’ll let you know if I see anything.”

“Good luck,” Sylvia offered.

The silver haired girl’s attention turned away from the world as the blonde walked off. Her eyes were on the blue window that had been teasing her for the better part of an hour.

It was time to level up.

But how should she level?

At the start of the day, Sylvia had assigned her points blindly. The logic she followed was that round numbers looked better. So, Wit and Spirit became ten. It was dumb, but Sylvia liked it.

Now?

Armed Combat had been a reality check. If Sylvia had fucked up, she’d be dead. No. She had fucked up and was lucky she wasn’t dead. Sure, their trio had killed two wolves but that was only with a giant pile of distractions.

She was weak.

The blood wolves were a massive reward. If Sylvia could kill them. But, without a lot of help Sylvia couldn’t kill one much less three. Worse, Sylvia had no hope of killing them. Fifty levels? A hundred levels? Even if Sylvia dumped every stat point into her physical attributes there was no way she could guarantee a one-on-one victory.

The impact of levels was just too small.

As for her magic stats, Sylvia didn’t know how to cast spells. What good were they going to do?

And that was the problem. She didn’t know.

Sylvia didn’t know any spells. She didn’t know how to fight. She didn’t know anything about combat. Sylvia could slay a dragon in a video game, but video games weren’t reality. Sylvia wasn’t holding a controller, nor was she piloting an avatar that knew how to dodge, block, and combo her attacks.

She was weak.

So Sylvia found herself at loose ends. She had to raise her level if she wanted to escape the Academy’s mercy. Not just once or twice, but enough times to become strong. And for that she needed a plan. Not just a plan, a feedback loop. A way of raising her level that would naturally result in secondary rewards that made her stronger faster.

And on that….

Sylvia’s eyes flickered to a quest: Wizard Means Wise I.

A chain quest. A chain quests whose first step rewarded a blank skill book. Skill was what Sylvia required. Dared she bet on it? Sylvia hesitated. She didn’t trust the System. In her experience, it never coughed up anything good. Even if it did, it wasn’t clear Wizard Means Wise II would be as valuable as Wizard Means Wise I.

Though, by their name, Sylvia suspected the two quests would be similar.

“Screw it.” Sylvia pounded the level up button five times. “I need the wit one way or another. If the System hands out crap, I can still use it to learn faster when I’m studying.”

Name Sylvia Swallows Class Apprentice Witch Level 13+30 Exp 123 / 140 HP 46 / 89 MP 149 / 165 Str 3 Mag 9 Vit 3 Spr 10 Agl 3 Wit 15

Blank skill book, you better be worth it.

-oOo-

System Codex

Attribute: Wit

Eric’s notes: Wit isn’t intelligence. An idiot with high wit will only think stupid thoughts faster.

Sub-Attribute: Awareness

Raw Calculation: (100% + 4% * Wit)^0.5

The bandwidth and rate at which the mind processes information. This covers the speed of thought and thus the speed of intellectual activities such as reading or writing. This also enhances the amount of data drawn through external senses. For material bodies, awareness cannot improve the sensory organs. It can only improve the volume of data consumed to the limit of said organ. However, for phantasmal bodies greater wit also corresponds to a better sense of hearing, sight, and touch.

While awareness effects the speed of thought, the minimum time to complete a thought is still governed by reaction time and thus celerity (agility). As mana moves with thought, the speed of its action is also controlled by awareness.

Eric’s notes: Thinking speed is: Reaction Time/Celerity + Thinking Time/Awareness.

Sub-Attribute: Capacity

Raw Calculation: 100% + 1% * Wit

The mind’s ability to hold information, track multiple threads, and endure all forms of intellectual strain. Capacity influences memory in terms of retention but not in the terms of recollection. With high wit newly acquired memories will be clearer and stick for longer, however old memories will not improve in the slightest.

High capacity does not grant true multithreaded thinking. It merely enhances any such capability already present in the User. It does however, greatly enhance the ability resume or juggle thoughts both in the sense that operating in multiple frames is easier, but also in the sense that more thoughts can be held in short term memory at once.

Attribute: Spirit

Integrity:

Raw Calculation: 100% + 4% * Spr

The solidity and durability of mind and mana. This covers the ability to resist infiltration and influence by alien forces, but does not in any way increase the ability to ignore ones own desires and emotions. Integrity also influences the stability of runes formed in the soul and thus theoretical casting speed. This also impacts how easy it is to break the framework of any spell cast.

Resolve:

Raw Calculation: 100% + 1% * Spr

The ability to overcome all forms of spiritual and psychological trial. High resolve allows one to press past their limits in pursuit of a higher cause. Fear, pain, boredom and other distractions will not cause them to waver. This does not diminish emotions, it simply allows their influence to be overcome. This is true for all desires whether foreign or natural.

Resolve also enhances the ability to endure and recover from psychological trauma. Mental wounds will heal more quickly, and horrific experiences will not cause the User to lose sight of themselves.

Finally, resolve influences the ability to endure mental strain and exhaustion. This can reduce the mental need for sleep. The physical need for sleep however, is governed by vitality (resilience).

Sylvia’s notes: Do I even have a physical need for sleep?