The group staggered out of the Slime King's Court, beaten, bloodied and down a man. Bill had given them an opportunity to strike at the abomination's final core, exchanging his live for theirs. The survivors fell as one, slumping against trees, gasping for fresh air in the morning light. They had fought, corridor by bloody corridor to finally clear the dungeon, spending nearly six hours doing so.

Francis had taken a fireball to the chest early on, the young man's shirt now featured a hole in the chest, exposing his scorched chest to the world. Mike was no better, his legs covered in bleeding holes from one of the dark blue slime's spinning spike ball attacks.

The three girls had all made it through without injury, mentally shaken but otherwise fine. Timmy had stepped up after Bill died and torn the slime king apart with his dagger, saving anyone else from being consumed.

They were still [Classless], whatever that meant. Mike had experienced the strange flow of hot energy that came from exterminating slimes. The less he contributed to the kill, the less of that energy he would receive, which raises an implication- that they were being monitored, their contributions tracked. It was unnerving.

It was as the group lay there, recuperating from both their injuries and the trauma of having to watch a gelatinous blob drink one of their number, they heard a shout echoing across the woods, repeated every minute and rapidly drawing nearer.

"Here gecko, gecko, gecko- I've got your favourite snack, human meat!"

All their heads turned as one, pivoting to the source of the call, only to witness Leon come barrelling out of the treeline, a stupidly large weapon strapped to his back. He spared the group only a passing glance, before planting his feet and drawing his weapon, reprimanding them as planted the blade down into the dirt.

"So that's were you guys were! Ha, still [Classless], guess partying up has its downsides! Anyway, get behind me if you want to live, I've got these geckos all riled up and ready to go."

Leon had already positioned himself in front of the majority of the group, Francis and Mike were the only two members still in the path of the approaching horde. They moved quickly, getting behind him just as the wave of raptors surged into view.

There must have been at least a hundred of them. Mike barely had a chance to process just how fucked they were before Leon had begun moving. His massive sword blasted through the beasts aimed at an upwards angle, rising into the air. Once Leon had extended it as far and as high as it would go, he brought the weapon crashing back down to earth, wiping out nearly all of raptors with just two moves.

The only ones still alive were those who had been at the back of the pack, Francis chose that moment to utilise the one of the rewards they'd gained from the dungeon- a magical staff made of old gnarled wood, the head of the implement featuring a bright red ruby.

Francis had claimed he'd be able to use it and Mike had trusted him to hold onto it- the boy deserved it after taking a hit for the group. A fireball emerged from the tip of the staff, blasting the few surviving raptors. Mike felt the energy begin to flow through the air, the bulk going to Leon, with a tiny portion splitting off and funnelling into Francis.

Leon turned to face the group his large blade still drawn, looking straight at Francis, a smile on his face. One which didn't reach his eyes.

"Y'know I can forgive a lot Mike. I can forgive you trying to guilt trip me. I can forgive you trying to get more information out of me for free- I mean I don't like that, but I can forgive it. What I can't forgive is you getting in the way of my training."

Leon punctuated his next words by extending his blade towards Mike, the edged tip mere inches from his body.

"Strike one, all of you tried to stop me from leaving last night. Strike two, your boy interfered in my fight. You don't wanna get to a third strike Mikey- next time you hear me rounding up geckos, you and yours run the other way. Got it?"

Mike nodded, careful not to move towards the blade.

"We get it Leon, we'll stay out of your way."

The imposing blade was retracted and heaved onto the swordsman's shoulders following Mike's statement, Leon's smile far more genuine now.

"Good! I'm off to get another raptor train built up, be careful if you're moving through the woods- I won't be there to help if they swarm you. The little bastards hunt in packs and they aren't shy about picking a fight. Selena knows where the next dungeon is, so you guys should go do that if you're not confident in roaming around out here."

He stalked off after that, but not before Mike landed an [Inspect] on him.

"Level 8 Swordsman."

Before long they heard another call for geckos go up.

Francis broke the silence.

"Mike, what do we do?"

Sighing Mike pinched his the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

"You all heard the man- Selena, please lead us to dungeon two before that idiot brings another calamity our way."

While the dwindling group of survivors made their way to the second dungeon, Leon was dealing with a personal crisis.

He'd hit level eight after wiping out the raptors in front of the dungeon, gaining the standard +2 in all his physical stats. Over the next twenty minutes he'd rounded up another two hundred raptors, only for them to give no experience on death.

The issue shook him to his core, it was an affront to everything he believed in. A lack of sweet glorious mana for his efforts was unacceptable. He returned to the house intent on getting an answer out of Zerasos, information restrictions be damned. The devil had obliged him, grudgingly.

"I'm chafing against the rules about non-Tutorial information on this one; it's the five level rule, you stop getting experience from stuff that's five levels below yours. Stops the psychotic bastards of the universe from blowing planets full of weaklings up to pump their levels. Anyway, forget levels for now, I saw you got a mana training book. Work on that, give it a few hours and the raptors will have cannibalised their population, should be some at a higher level come lunchtime."

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Pulling out the "Using Mana- For Dummies!", Leon once again felt the urge to dice the book apart. Instead he began reading, reclining into the comfiest chair in the house.

"To begin using mana, first you must understand what mana is. It is a formless energy that pervades all things, useless and inert on its own but once guided, shaped into specific forms, it becomes a source of power, a reservoir without end that we all tap into and siphon to fuel our growth. Breathe in now, feel the air filling you lungs, then exhale."

Leon followed the instruction taking in as large a breath as he could before letting it all out.

"Now, focus on the air you have breathed out, feel the mana in the air soaking into it. Breathe in once more, while focusing on that mana in the air, feel it flowing back into your lungs."

Leon wasn't sure he felt anything as he breathed in and out. A faint warmth, nothing more than that. He continued breathing in, focusing on re-breathing the same air he'd exhaled. Just as he felt the warmth grow stronger, Zerasos interrupted him.

"Hey kid, lunchtime's been and gone- you sleeping on the job?"

"It can't be lunchtime already, I've only been sat here for like a minute- max."

"Yeah? Well by my clock you've been sitting there for a couple hours."

Pulling himself out of the chair, Leon placed the book on the kitchen table, the fridge providing him with a meatball sub this time. He'd really lost track of time that badly?

"Is it like that for anyone learning to use mana? They just get lost in their own head?"

Zerasos nodded with a mouthful of steak, the devil having procured his own food while Leon had been meditating. Swallowing, the devil then explained.

"Yep, its a bitch and not the fun kind. Everyone goes through it so you'll have to suck it up kid- don't stress it too much, you'll have some downtime after day five to work on your skills. The problem is getting powerful enough to survive that long, but you're crushing it pretty hard out there."

Sighing despite himself, Leon knew his rapid rate of improvement would meet a roadblock sooner or later. Better to hit it now while he had time to change focus. Mastering mana seemed to be much harder than he'd first anticipated. The Shifting Tides Style would have to wait just a little longer.

Remembering the skill he'd gained from completing his second quest, Leon pulled up his status sheet hoping for inspiration to strike him.

Name- Leon Knox

Race- [Human]

Grade- [H]

Class- [Common-Swordsman]- Level 8/25

Job-None!

Stat Block:

HP-220/220

MP-0/110

Power-23

Speed-23

Constitution-22

Intelligence-11

Wisdom-10

Fame-2

Infamy-0

Skills:

[Swordsman's Eye]-Level 2/10

[Sword Affinity]- Level 1/1

Quests:

Wide Base- Attain a baseline competency with many classifications of sword

Progress:

Straight Swords- 1/1

Curved Swords- 1/1

Thrusting Swords- 1/1

Greatswords- 0/1

Curved Greatswords- 0/1

Ultra Greatswords- 1/1

Reward-Class Skill

The System must have counted Bladeless as a thrusting sword. It wasn't an inaccurate assessment, the lack of an edge meant most of the sword's damage came from the crushing power of its weight if he failed to connect with the tip. Examining his latest skill yielded some useful information.

"[Sword Affinity]- Boosts sword technique comprehension speed."

Simplistic, but Leon held no doubt it would be effective.

He'd gained a few points in his main stats- more stats was always good, bigger numbers were objectively better after all.

Nothing was jumping out at him though, no obviously easy path forward presented itself. His creepy dream conversation with the silhouetted old man hadn't given him any ideas for a path forwards either. His apparent bloodline was a dead end as well- no info on it in his status screen and Zerasos was awfully cagey when he mentioned anything even slightly adjacent to it.

He remembered Zerasos had wanted to speak with him last night, the devil having gotten side-tracked by the fridge god's offerings.

"Zerasos- any word back on the Shifting Tides Style?"

The devil looked up at Leon from across the room, his empty eyes shining with excitement.

"Ooh yeah, big fuckin scoop on that one. Told you it wouldn't be free though. My System approved role here is to exclusively give you Tutorial info- we can circumvent that though, here take a look at this contract."

The scroll materialised in Leon's hands with a pop. Reading through it Leon had expected the devil to demand his eternal soul. Instead he wanted a six month agreement, requesting permission to use Leon's image to sell merchandise and use his name to promote Zerasos' main business as an emporium for rare and exotic fire attribute materials and weapons.

The contract was pretty fair, offering Leon payment in both higher quality and more varied information while he was in the Tutorial, as well as a hefty bonus if he managed to survive until the end, in the form of lifetime VIP access to Hellstone Incorporated's vast inventory and the privilege to pick out one item from it at no cost to himself. Ii was nearly too fair, his eyes narrowed as he questioned the devil's motives.

"What's your angle here?"

"Hey, no angle- Tutorial participants who make it all the way always wind up as the little darlings of the Myriad Worlds once they get powerful enough. I fuck you over and I make a bit more money in the short term, but long term? You could butcher every [H] I got on payroll and I couldn't do shit to ya, unless I wanted another cursed point in Infamy."

It was rare for the devil to speak about his own stats, Leon's inspection skills never manged to glean anything from him. He recognised an opportunity.

"And that would be bad because...?"

The devil snorted, turning his back to Leon.

"One point was enough to cut off my chances at getting past [F] Grade kid, two points would have me dead and buried come tomorrow. Now you gonna sign or you gonna pussyfoot around tryna get more info outta me?"

"I'll sign, give me the pen."

"No, you gotta sign in blood, makes it binding."

Biting down on his finger, Leon drew enough blood to mark the scroll, the document vanishing in a puff of smoke.

"Nice one, I'm gonna buy a fuckin mansion with all the money we'll make kid. Alright, couldn't find another copy of the book but we did find out something. That style you picked up belonged to a scary fucker- the Shifting Tides Swordfiend. Guy was a fucking [B] Grade at his peak, rose up alongside his clan during the dark days of the first era."

The devil had unwittingly confirmed a few things.

Firstly, the weird dream conversation had been totally real- he'd somehow manged to meet the man he suspected was the last surviving Swordfiend, the silhouetted old man in his dreams who had revealed his name to be Sha through his absurdly powerful blade.

Secondly, knowing that Sha had taken an interest in him, he was beginning to put together the pieces in his head. A bloodline that struck fear in Zerasos. His new instincts, the speed with which his skills had grown since arriving here. A clan of mercenaries who had been exterminated. His grandfather, a man who had appeared like any other elderly man, yet his baggy shirts and loose jeans hid a body that had been honed and refined, covered in faded scars.

Above all else- the way he'd been guided onto the path of the sword from a young age. He now strongly suspected his grandfather had been one of the Swordfiends, most probably one of Sha's two brothers. His bloodline somehow passing over Leon's father and instead being passed on to his son. It didn't explain why this suspected bloodline wasn't being picked up by the System- perhaps it was dormant or needed to be activated somehow?

With as much composure as he could muster Leon asked the question that would either complete the puzzle or scatter the pieces.

"Swordfiend huh? Any of them still around?"

"Nah, they got wiped out after their clan head accumulated way too much Infamy to handle, least that's the official history. There was one who ran off, they called him something weird.. Furious Drake? No that's not it... the Raging Dragon Swordfiend, that's it- the poor guy had a pregnant wife. When things started crumbling he chose to cut and run, preserve his unborn kid's life over his clansmen. Can't say I blame him, being a father changes your perspective. Still, it's been so long he's probably been dead longer for more years than most of us get to live."

Leon felt he was pushing his luck with the next question, but he had to know.

"So anyone still after these guys?"

"Pfft! No, it's been eons since then- they're all gone kid, relax no one's about to come crawling out of the woodwork and hunt you down just for owning one of their styles, hell most swordsmen see it as an honour to learn one of their techniques, let alone a style."

Leon couldn't shake the feeling that Zerasos was wrong. Another thing to look into once he was done in the Tutorial.

"More importantly, time for another dungeon- the Blight Marsh."