Training began the next morning.
The recruits assembled in the sand pit before sunrise.
Cold air clung to the stone walls of the guild yard. Breath hung white in the dark.
Stripe stood near the back of the line.
He had slept badly.
The dormitory was loud, crowded, and smelled like wet leather and old sweat.
Still better than the street.
But not by much.
The instructor walked into the yard carrying a long wooden staff.
He did not raise his voice.
He did not need to.
INSTRUCTOR:
Running.
No one moved.
The instructor lifted the staff and struck the ground.
Sand jumped up in a threatening manner.
INSTRUCTOR:
Now.
The line broke into motion.
They ran until the sky turned gray.
They ran until the gray turned pale blue.
They ran until the first recruit collapsed.
The instructors did not stop the run.
Two assistants dragged the unconscious body off the track.
The line kept moving.
The recruit never rejoined the run.
Stripe’s lungs burned.
His calves felt like coiled wire ready to snap.
But the pain was familiar.
Predictable.
Pain you could negotiate with.
Pain that obeyed rules.
He thinks back to all of the runs he did while training for a fight.
He felt crazy because he was actually enjoying this run.
It was nostalgic.
CROWN:
Host stamina output currently operating at eighty-two percent efficiency.
Stripe kept running.
STRIPE:
Good to know. Not useful however.
CROWN:
Improvement possible.
STRIPE:
I will get right on it.
The drills continued.
Climbing rope.
Dragging weighted sleds.
Carrying stones across the yard.
Falling.
Standing up.
Doing it again.
Swinging hammers at big rocks turning them into small rocks.
Dodging rocks being thrown at you and the occasional wrench.
If you can dodge a wrench you can dodge a spell.
By midday the sand pit smelled like sweat, iron, and wet dirt.
The instructor finally gestured toward the weapon racks.
Weapons Training
Spears.
Axes.
Short swords.
Clubs.
Claymores.
Long swords.
Stripe grabbed a short sword.
Immediately wrong.
The grip sat awkwardly in his hand.
The blade pulled slightly forward like it wanted to fall.
He tried the drill anyway.
Step.
Swing.
Guard.
The sword dipped during the strike.
The instructor sighed.
INSTRUCTOR:
You fight like a man who has never held steel.
Stripe lowered the blade.
STRIPE: This is my first time be gentle.
Stripe covered his cheeks like he was blushing.
A few recruits laughed.
The instructor did not.
CROWN: User performance metrics are subpar.
STRIPE: Shut the fuck up. You always offer the worst advice.
INSTRUCTOR: What did you say to me recruit? I can have you tossed back out to the street like the worthless filth you are.
STRIPE: That was to the voice in my head. Not to you. It's always nagging at me like I'm in a shitty relationship.
The instructors eyes flair for a moment processing what the recruit had said.
Stripe had never actually stopped to think how he may be perceived by other people when he talks to Crown.
To everyone else he was either crazy or an asshole.
INSTRUCTOR: Again!
Stripe tried again.
Still horrible.
Every movement felt artificial.
Eventually the instructor waved him away in annoyance.
INSTRUCTOR:
Next.
Stripe stepped aside.
Slightly embarrassed.
He was always great at physical activates.
He didn't have to train like other fighters to be the champ.
However he did train like everyone else and rose above them with a gap so large that he lapped his division twice then moved up in weight.
Here he had to train harder to not be tossed out.
Everyone around him was higher level than him according to the Crowns estimates.
An armorer rolled a cart into the yard.
Metal clattered across the tray.
Gauntlets.
Thick leather.
Reinforced plates.
Knuckles studded with brutal spikes.
Stripe stared.
Something stirred in his chest.
Recognition.
He picked up a pair.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Heavy.
Dense.
Balanced exactly where his hands expected the weight to be.
He slid them on.
The straps tightened across his wrists.
The spikes lined perfectly with his knuckles.
His fingers flexed.
The gauntlets moved with him instead of against him.
Like they had always belonged there.
STRIPE:
This is what the fuck I'm talking about. Lets go!
It felt right. Like a supped up MMA glove. The monster parts were lighter than expected but still had heft to them.
CROWN:
Weapon classification: Gauntlets. Typically used for defensive measure. However users compatibility appears high.
Close-range lethality increased.
The instructor watched him for a moment.
Then pointed toward the sparring circle.
INSTRUCTOR: Those are for defense. They offer no range advantage and should only be used if your primary weapon is knocked away.
STRIPE: I can't even hold a primary weapon, so these are perfect for me.
INSTRUCTOR: You may wear them during training, but you will train with swords as your primary.
Time for sparring.
Try not to kill each other, or don't I don't really care.
Stripe stepped forward.
A recruit approached.
Thick neck.
Scarred eyebrow.
A grin that said he enjoyed hurting people weaker than him.
Stripe was prey, he couldn't even hold his sword.
CROWN:
Estimated Level: 11.
The instructor raised his hand.
INSTRUCTOR:
Begin.
The recruit charged forward immediately.
He swung hard and fast.
Stripe brough his blade up and the two met.
Stripes blade flew across the field and into the sand.
But he didn't panic he smiled.
The recruit realized there was no real strength behind his block.
Stripe could now "Technically" use the gauntlets without getting in trouble.
He didn't waste this chance, while the recruit was shocked from the outcome Stripe moved fast.
He threw a spinning back kick into the recruits wrist knocking their own blade away.
The recruit answered by planting his feet incorrectly and swinging his fast hard.
Heavy right hook.
Fast but sloppy.
Stripe watched the shoulder first.
Then the elbow.
The punch telegraphed itself a mile away.
Stripe slipped left.
The fist roared past his ear.
Air pressure brushed his hair.
Stripe stepped inside the man’s reach.
A quick jap to his nose.
The impact snapped the recruit’s head backward.
Teeth clicked together loudly.
The man staggered but stayed upright.
Durable.
The recruit growled and swung again.
Left hook this time.
Wide.
Angry.
Stripe ducked under it.
His gauntlet drove forward.
Elbow tight.
Knuckles first.
The spikes hammered into the man’s ribs.
A dull crack echoed.
The recruit gasped.
But instead of backing away he lunged forward.
Shoulder lowered.
Trying to tackle.
His weight slammed into Stripe’s chest.
Stripe slid backward half a step.
He pivots and secures underhooks.
STRIPE:
Hey Crown.
CROWN:
Yes.
STRIPE:
How hurt am I exactly?
Pause.
CROWN:
Tracking combat health now.
Stripe blinked.
STRIPE:
Now?
Stripe HP: 134 / 134
Opponent HP: 105 / 110
The recruit swung again.
Stripe let go of his underhooks to maintain the standup advantage.
Stripe caught the punch on his forearm.
The impact shuddered through the gauntlet plates.
Stripe countered instantly.
Short hook.
The spikes scraped across the man’s cheek.
Blood followed.
Stripe HP: 134 / 134
Opponent HP: 92 / 110
STRIPE:
You could track that the whole time?
The recruit lunged again.
Trying to grapple.
Stripe pivoted sideways.
His foot hooked behind the man’s ankle.
Leg sweep.
The recruit crashed face-first into the sand.
Stripe followed him down.
Hammer fist.
Gauntlet spikes cracked against the man’s jaw.
Stripe HP: 134 / 134
Opponent HP: 54 / 110
CROWN:
Host never requested health monitoring previously.
Stripe stared.
STRIPE:
That seems like something you should be automatic.
The recruit pushed himself up.
Dazed.
Stripe stepped forward.
Hook.
Temple.
The man collapsed.
Stripe HP: 134 / 134
Opponent HP: 0 / 110
Winner: Stripe
Stripe rubbed his forehead.
STRIPE:
It's just weird that you didn't tell me this prior.
CROWN: User was briefed on capabilities during imitation phase by the Goddess.
Stripe sighed.
STRIPE:
I stopped listening halfway through.
CROWN:
Incorrect, user stopped listening around the 5% mark of the explanation.
User then cut the explanation short with confidence.
System believed user understood capabilities based off users actions.
INSTRUCTOR:
Again.
A lean recruit stepped forward.
Disciplined stance.
Hands high.
Balanced.
CROWN:
Estimated Level: 14.
The instructor dropped his hand.
INSTRUCTOR:
Begin.
The recruit didn’t rush.
He circled.
Stripe noticed he had tossed his weapon down.
This recruit wanted to make a point.
He kept moving trying to get a read on Stripe.
He saw what happened the last match.
He would be more measured.
A jab snapped toward Stripe’s face.
Stripe moved he head slightly.
The second jab slipped past.
However due to the level difference the leather of his straps made contact with Stripes cheek.
Stripe HP: 128 / 134
Opponent HP: 140 / 140
Stripe grinned.
STRIPE:
Okay. That's unexpected. Levels matter a lot with damage.
But I'm still better.
Finally someone competent.
Stripe could tell this guy was good.
Not good enough though.
He stepped forward.
Feint.
The recruit tightened his guard.
Stripe shifted angles.
Body shot aimed directly at the liver.
Gauntlet spikes punched into the man’s ribs.
Stripe HP: 128 / 134
Opponent HP: 121 / 140
The recruit retaliated instantly.
Two fast punches.
One clipped Stripe’s jaw but Stripe turned his head at the same time to avoid a direct hit.
Stars flashed briefly in his vision.
Stripe HP: 116 / 134
Opponent HP: 121 / 140
Stripe adjusted his stance.
Slightly wider.
More patient.
Distance mattered more now.
The next exchange stretched longer.
Punch.
Parry.
Slip.
Counter.
Stripe drove an elbow into the recruit’s sternum.
The man stumbled.
Stripe HP: 116 / 134
Opponent HP: 74 / 140
The recruit’s guard sagged.
Stripe feinted left.
The guard shifted.
Uppercut.
The gauntlet smashed under the man’s chin.
He collapsed.
Stripe HP: 116 / 134
Opponent HP: 0 / 140
Winner: Stripe
The training yard had grown quiet.
People were watching now.
The final opponent stepped forward.
Broad shoulders.
Calm expression.
Professional stance.
CROWN:
Estimated Level: 17.
Stripe rolled his shoulders.
STRIPE:
Alright. That's a big bitch,
CROWN: Opponent is humanoid not canine.
STRIPE: No shit.
The fight began fast.
The recruit struck first.
He also had tossed his weapon down.
This was a mans pride at this point.
A sharp punch drove into Stripe’s ribs.
Stripe HP: 99 / 134
Opponent HP: 165 / 165
Another strike followed.
This one grazed his jaw.
Stripe HP: 80 / 134
Opponent HP: 165 / 165
Stripe smiled.
STRIPE:
Finally. Someone who isn't a pussy.
A real fight.
One that he could really test his limits with.
His excitement showed on his face.
This one lasted longer.
Footwork.
Circling.
Feints.
The recruit pressed forward with disciplined aggression.
Stripe slipped strikes by inches.
Each time his timing and distance control improved.
He was learning to deal with stronger opponents that out classed him in stats.
He spent the beginning of the fight limiting damage and learning his opponents timing and patterns.
It was like fighting a knock out artist, one mistake and he would be out.
Finally he started throwing feints and leg kicks.
He begin to land hits.
The damage he did was minimal.
He countered whenever openings appeared.
Sand sprayed around their feet.
Breathing grew heavier.
Stripe HP: 69 / 134
Opponent HP: 104 / 165
Let the man commit.
Then punish the recovery.
Three exchanges later
Hook. It lands clean. It was like hitting a rock.
Body shot the mans body showed minimal reaction.
Elbow to the dome. Felt ineffective.
Stripe knows the damage is adding up.
He had to keep chipping away at him like a raid boss.
If they had been the same level the recruit would have been out in the first exchange.
This again reenforced that levels matter.
Stripe HP: 69/ 134
Opponent HP: 62 / 165
The recruit charged.
Desperate now.
Every punch he threw was slipped and he was punished.
He had been hit over fifty times.
It was starting to hurt.
Stripe stepped aside.
Three rapid strikes.
Jaw first with a straight right.
Ribs with his follow up left.
The recruit fell from the hits and his own momentum.
Stripe rotates quickly.
Spinning back kick to the downed mans face.
CROWN: Critical strike landed.
The man collapsed.
Had this been a cage match Stripe would have lost due to DQ.
But this was not. This was survival.
Survival means do whatever the fuck you need to.
Good thing he had never lost.
Stripe HP: 69 / 134
Opponent HP: 0 / 165
Winner: Stripe
Silence filled the training yard.
The
A notification appeared.
New Proficiency Unlocked
New Title Unlocked
Pugilist Specialist:
New Proficiency Unlocked
Pugilist Proficiency
Effects:
? Unarmed combat efficiency increased
? Striking precision improved
? Damage scaling with Strength slightly increased
Stripe blinked.
STRIPE: You would think I would be higher than level 1.
CROWN: Titles and skills are earned regardless of users skill level.
They are bonuses that are gained from feats or repetitive actions.
STRIPE:
Good to know. But who decides what awards these?
Stripes question is ignored as if the Crown refuses to answer.
Across the yard
Varn stood watching.
Smiling. This recruit might make him some money.
Stripe flexed the gauntlets slowly.
They felt perfect.
Like memory.
Like identity.
Then Stripe noticed something uncomfortable.
He would have to use these to kill.
There was no way around it in this world.
No more tapping out, no more referees waving off the fight.
Life or death in every battle.
It was scary, but he was also excited.
He might be able to regain most of what he lost in his previous life.
He decided right then and there that he would pay off his debts and milk this guild for every gold it has.
If the opportunity presented itself then he would make sure Varn learns how hard he can punch.
═══════════════ STATUS ═══════════════
Name: Stripe Level: 5
Class: Unassigned
Title:
Toxic Fisherman
Pugilist Specialist
HP: 134/134 Stamina: 118/118 Mana: 0/0
Attributes ━━━━━━━━━━
STR 8
AGI 9
END 8
INT 6
Skills / Proficiencies ━━━━━━━━━━
Hand-to-Hand Combat — Basic Retention
Improvised Weapon Handling — Beginner
Survival — Novice
Pugilist Proficiency — Level 1
Passive Effects ━━━━━━━━━━
Minor Poison Secretion
Artifact ━━━━━━━━━━
Crown of Reflection
System Effects ━━━━━━━━━━
Alcohol Intoxication Immunity
Experience Calculation
Inventory ━━━━━━━━━━
Iron Dagger
Leather Chest Piece (Bandit Armor)
Wolf Pelt (Crude Clothing)
Bandit Ring
Gauntlets (Unknown material)
Currency ━━━━━━━━━━
Silver: 7
══════════════════════════════════════
