John’s nerves lit up like alarm bells, and he reacted, diving to the side without hesitation. The arrow scraped his side as he fell to the ground. He wasted no time, beginning to rise immediately. Halfway up, his senses screamed at him again, and he instinctively swung his sword at a point above his head - parrying a blow from Deratus’ axe.

The force of the attack was so great that it shoved John back to the ground. A moment later, he was forced to roll onto his back to avoid another axe blow, and it cleaved the ground where he had just been.

John rolled forward, trying to gain some distance from his opponent. He was able to get back on his feet, and he turned, shifting into a combat stance - his Gladius held aloft, pointed at his opponent. Somehow, his stance felt right. Natural. As if he had done this before. He breathed deeply as he focused on circulating his mana, reinforcing his body to deal with his opponents great strength.

Deratus wasted no time. He lunged forward, his massive axe carving a brutal arc through the air. John barely managed to sidestep, the wind from the swing brushing against his skin as the axe crashed into the ground, splitting the earth.

Without thinking, he struck back. His Gladius lashed out in a sharp counterattack aimed at Deratus’ side. But before the blade could land, Deratus wrenched his axe free and twisted, the shaft of his weapon knocking John’s sword aside with ease.

John barely had time to react before Deratus lunged forward with another swing - faster this time.

No time to dodge.

John raised his blade just in time to block, but the force behind the strike was so enormous that it rattled his bones and sent him tumbling backwards. His feet scrambled for balance on the forest floor as he tried to control his breathing, his whole body aching from the impact.

His opponent pushed his advantage, forcing John to duck, the blade of the axe passing inches over his head. His instincts screamed at him to retaliate. His feet shifted, his knees bent, and before he even understood why, his Gladius flicked upward towards Deratus’ head.

Yet the dark elf reacted with terrifying speed, using the haft of his axe to deflect the strike. The sudden impact sent John stumbling back, his feet skidding against the ground as he struggled to maintain control.

A few exchanges later, John had a grim expression on his face as he watched his opponent.

This bastard was strong. The only reason he could stand against him at all was because of that white mana that he had. It seemed to fortify his body, making him faster and stronger than he should be. Even so, John knew that he shouldn’t be able to fight him. They simply weren’t on the same level.

Yet something was changing.

This was his first time using a sword, but the more they fought, the more natural it felt in his hands. His movements were growing sharper, his reactions faster. It wasn’t just luck or instinct anymore - his body was adapting, and slowly figuring out where his blade should go. Every clash of weapons, every desperate maneuver, it was like he was close to understanding something on the edge of his perception.

And then it happened. A notification bell rang.

Player has learned an ability!

Basic Swordsmanship (Common) (Level 1) - The player has taken their first steps on the path of the sword, gaining basic control and the ability to infuse mana with limited efficiency.

Deratus observed him closely, a hint of admiration flickering in his gaze. “You’re improving.” His expression darkened, doubt entering his voice. “Is this really your first Tutorial stage?”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

A new Tutorial entrant shouldn’t be able to wield mana like that. Even those born with talent struggled, their bodies untrained and their minds struggling to grasp the flow of energy. But this creature before him?

If this was indeed his first Tutorial stage, then his planet must be recently initiated into the System. That meant he had been handling mana for a handful of hours, at most. Yet he handled it with confidence. The mana he sensed coursing through him was raw, unrefined—but beneath that, there was an instinctive control, something that couldn’t be learned in mere hours.

Deratus tightened his grip on his sword. If he’s this capable now, what will he become in a month? A year? Ten years?

A future threat. That’s what this offworlder was.

He had to die here.

Meanwhile, John ignored his words. He didn’t know what he was talking about, and he didn’t care. After four years in isolation, he had no interest in speaking with elves who treated people like slaves.

—

During that brief pause in the fighting, Thalorien saw his chance. John’s back was exposed—a perfect shot. He drew his bow, steady and precise, aiming for the kill.

Just as he was about to release the arrow, something struck his arm. A stone. His shot went wide, the arrow vanishing into the trees.

Snarling, he turned to find the culprit. His glare landed on the young female slave—one of the recent acquisitions—standing defiant, hands clenched. Seeing him turn towards her, she turned and began hobbling away - her escape hindered by the chains around her feet.

Gritting his teeth, a murderous glint in his eye, Thalorien knocked another arrow and took aim at the girl. Just as he was about to fire, a mass of limbs tumbled into him from the side - almost knocking him off his feet. He looked down to find the other male slave clutching onto his leg, desperately attempting to pull him down. Yet Thalorien’s stats were too high, and the creature was too weak.

Human - Level 1

Thalorien drew his knife, and with a cruel smile, he slashed across the human’s hand. The slave let out a sharp cry of pain, his grip loosening as he clutched his bleeding hand. He stumbled back, and Thalorien followed, brandishing his dagger.

Consumed by rage, he drove his foot into the human’s ribs, sending him sprawling. As the slave gasped for breath, Thalorien debated whether he could afford to kill these slaves. He let out a sharp, frustrated sigh, realising it was not a good idea.

With the young master dead, it would be foolish to risk angering the High Lord any further. So he kicked the young human one more time for good measure before he turned to watch the fight once more, knocking another arrow and looking for his opportunity. The girl had seemingly escaped, but they could retrieve her later.

—

John stepped forward instead of retreating, his body moving before his mind could catch up. His Gladius snapped up, the flat of the blade deflecting the axe just enough to redirect its path. Sparks flew as steel met steel, and John twisted his wrist, forcing the weapon past him.

Deratus grunted in mild surprise, but he recovered instantly, bringing the axe back around with terrifying speed. John ducked, the weapon whistling past the top of his head. His feet adjusted instinctively - shifting his weight, he angled his sword into a precise thrust toward Deratus’ exposed side.

A notification bell rang.

Basic Swordsmanship has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.

The attack would have landed cleanly… if not for Deratus’ monstrous reflexes. The warrior twisted at the last second, the axe's haft slamming into John's ribs and sending him staggering back. Pain flared, but John barely noticed. His mind was consumed by something else.

The elf reversed his grip, bringing the axe down in a brutal overhead strike. John stepped in instead of back, his gladius flashing upward. The clash sent another burst of sparks flying, but this time, John felt something click—a deeper understanding of the weapon in his hands. His grip adjusted mid-motion, his movements smoother, sharper.

Another notification rang at the edge of his awareness.

Basic Swordsmanship has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.

John barely registered it. He moved not with conscious thought, but through instinct, as his body adapted to the feel of the sword in his hand - and the many possibilities before him.

Deratus scowled - he could see the difference in John’s stance and the way he handled his weapon. The runt was evolving mid-fight. In the beginning he had been an easy opponent, but that was changing more rapidly than he could believe. He had to end this now.