During the tutorial, a contestant would be provided a set of basic starting supplies, including a suitable weapon, clothes, guidance, and, most importantly, a basic mana induction technique.

  — Covenant 4 Clause 11.

  Mandated by The Architect and Signed by The Federation.

  ***

  Stone golem, LV - 8 (Neutralized)

  Rubble was scattered on the ground before Zayn. He panted, dragging his sore body away. Stone golems, or stoneheads as he called them, were receptive to sound. He suspected more of them might be flocking here now.

  Wouldn’t be funny if he survived that fall only to get tag-teamed by a bunch of walking rocks.

  The mild gale scraped the ugly gash on his forearm, leaving a cold sensation clawing at his brain. That, however, did not catch his attention; his gaze locked on the swaying steel fork. It was mangled as a broken arm, and he was afraid one solid blow would break it into two comparable halves.

  Tearing his gaze away, he scanned the forest again. After the last level up, the red haze in his vision had cleared. And suddenly, he could really see the world, like a nearsighted man given a pair of glasses.

  Most of the forest was riddled with patches of grass, overgrown roots and mosses. Towering, tremendous trees scattered across them, their gnarled trunk covered in white, pitted bark—seemingly as old as time itself. If Zayn were to be honest, the scenery was quite beautiful, exquisite even. Still, something about the quiet rustling of leaves and the grass sent shivers down his spine. Perhaps because the jungle looked completely untouched by life.

  An overgrowth of nature.

  Crouching low on the ground, he slowly headed back to where Raka was. All the while making as little noise as possible. His sluggish nerves refused to soothe until he saw Raka sprawled on the ground. Then the numbness was replaced by a dull, aching pain.

  Even with the tools and a kit of spare parts, it would be damn near impossible to fix.

  The tank was leaking gasoline from the tiny fissures. The frame was bent and warped in… places where it shouldn’t be. And he worst offender? The engine, whose crackcases had crumpled inward. In other words, it had become a mush of metal.

  Stone cold dead, that’s what it was.

  Exhaling sharp breaths, he tore a tank bag out of the mess. It was lightweight, meant to carry the essentials—a learned habit. During his night escapades, he’d fallen more than a few times. And every time, he begun bringing more and more things.

  Most of the stuff inside had become mush from the fall. Rummaging through the tank bag, he took whatever was salvageable, most critical of which were the first aid kit, the toolkit, and the military-grade water bottle.

  He stared at the fallen bottle that had dented like a fallen soap, grateful that it hadn't broken apart. Sipping, he washed away the metallic taste of iron from his throat.

  Still, when he gazed at Rakas's remains again, the bitterness returned in full force. He wasn’t sure if it could be fixed here in Eldera. And this time around, he’d have to change the engine too.

  By then, would that still be Raka?

  It took him almost an entire minute of effort to shove the words out of his mouth, “Goodbye, old friend.”

  ***

  Zayn pushed down the final pieces of stones, filling the pit. If he had the right tools, he would find an intact stone and cut it into a gravestone. If he had the time and power, he would build it a grave that would put the Taj Mahal to shame.

  But he was inside a jungle, all alone, with murderhobo golems everywhere. Thus, he just scribbled on the ground.

  Here lies Raka,

  The ride of Sir Will Hunter A.K.A The Helldiver

  And the old punk who carried me through hell.

  Raka deserved rest. When he had won it in the auction, it was already on its final legs. The only reason why it even lasted this long was that he kept replacing and fixing every screw, to the point of driving himself to poverty, over and over, as he couldn’t let go of the one thing that made him happy.

  Even now, he still clutched the fork and chain. “I will…need these.”

  He needed them to survive. He did.

  Ignoring the lump in his throat, he turned around. Every step forward felt heavier as though lead was being injected into his veins, but he kept moving forward, as always.

  He must move forward.

  Almost an hour later, Zayn stared at the compass in his hand and then at the forest of white-barked trees, still having no idea of the ins and outs of this place. He walked in one direction—west—to ensure he was not getting lost.

  The newest hazards were the Great Lakes that were almost indistinguishable from the land itself. Perhaps more fitting to call them the swamps. Their vast reservoir of water stretched in between the trees, quietly stirring with the flow of the soft air, too peaceful, too eerie. He entertained the thought of a bath, especially since he was all covered in blood and grime, but his body was still littered with wounds. An open field for alien pathogens, and Zayn heard enough stillwater horror stories to know what a terrible idea that would be.

  Hissing, Zayn tore his clothes off his body. He regretted not doing so earlier when ‘Undying cockroach’ was active, because it would have hurt much less.

  Too late for regrets now. His wounds reopened back, reigniting his dull nerves.

  Worse, the stone shards were still wedged in his body, every single one hurt like a bitch. One by one, he pulled them out, washing his wounds with antiseptic.

  This was bad, but he would survive.

  Every extreme sport comes with its share of dangers. Mountain motorcycling was the extreme sport of the extreme sports. Surviving through crippling, life-altering injuries was a bi-weekly thing for him.

  Oftentimes, he’d attend office with a bruised leg or elbow, and he had a set of explanations ready, of which ‘I fell’ was the most frequent. Made him think whether he manifested all of this.

  No way.

  Treating his body like an abandoned temple had long since started to crack him up from the inside. Hidden internal injuries meshed into bigger problems one after the other, requiring extreme measures to placate.

  [I’m a gamer] had healed those old injuries, too.

  I’m a gamer! (Limited) : Huzzah! A true gamer to the core! A defier of the system! Who needs a tutorial to kill monsters? Certainly not you...you dumbass.

  Effect: 10% Maximum Health is restored with each level up for the first ten levels.

  This feat was the most vital for his survival, alongside [Undying Cockroach]. At first, he had assumed killing monsters or leveling up was what healed him. Only later did he realize it was this feat. A bummer as it would only work until level ten, but he could live with that.

  The best thing about this feat was that it healed the most heinous of injuries first. Internal damage, broken bones, concussion, all that tough to deal with stuff, leaving muscle and skin damage—shallower injuries—for the body to face. Even still, his body struggled with that. His dwindling vitality not enough to cover every injury.

  Good thing he had a patch for that.

  Zayn pulled out some pain relief patches—the strong ones. He had always kept a batch, despite how expensive they were to procure. He rubbed antiseptic and healing ointments on his open wounds, the bites stabbing his brain. After applying the patches, he crushed a couple of extra caffeine tabs and swallowed them for the side effects.

  That done, he moved his arms up and down, nodding in satisfaction. The pain subsided significantly, and finally, his body once again felt like his own. For a little while at least.

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

  Walking through the forest, he looked through the long list of his status screen once more.

  Status

  Zayn H. King, Level - 5

  Affinity: None

  Although he had a hint of what this was, he was not sure. “What is an affinity?” He asked the air, expecting no answer, but words did appear.

  Affinity is your natural potential to control the different elements of the world: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, among physical affinities. There are also metaphysical affinities. You have no natural or metaphysical affinities.

  He scrolled past, ignoring the sting of being untalented. He didn’t expect himself to be the next avatar, but couldn’t he be good at one affinity, at least? It was one thing to be untalented, another to have no talent at all!

  Below, he found another thing he was untalented at!

  Trait: None.

  As if knowing what he’d ask, the system responded.

  Traits are innate racial abilities—natural advantages shared by all members of a species. Your race has no inherent traits.

  Zayn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Not only was he untalented, the entire human race was untalented along with him!

  He didn't believe that to be the case with other fantastic races that entered alongside them. They should have traits, and if they did, humanity were immediately into the back foot. Not good.

  “Can traits or affinity be gained over time?” He asked. But the system seemed to have vanished, no longer answering his questions.

  There was one thing, however, that answered.

  A two-foot golem waddled towards him with its brittle feet, stones raining down with each step. What was this? A baby golem?

  Stone golem - Lv 05 (Neutral)

  Same level as him, too. Their fight was going to be legendary. Or not. A naked man fighting a golem one third his size didn’t sound that honourable. Not like that was the only advantage he had over it.

  Bloodthirsty (Bronze): We're out for blood with this one! And you are the pioneer in this field, with the first kill of this integration!

  Effect: +3 Constitution.

  Fall damage…What’s that? (Silver) : What a dive! You just fell from one world to another! And didn’t go splat! Wow!

  Effect: +5 Fortitude. Additionally, damage taken from falls is reduced by 33%, and damage dealt by falling down on opponents is increased by 66%.

  An ever-expanding universe gave rise to infinite possibilities, and yet he must be the first one to have killed a golem by falling on it during the integration. So uncool!

  Despite that, he must admit that the feats were significant. Five points alone in a single feat was…amazing. Bloodthirsty wasn’t bad either, with its three points. His four level-ups had only awarded four points in total, which meant these feats alone were equivalent to multiple levels of points.

  Though it was the secondary effect of [Fall damage…What’s that?] that boggled his mind. Fall on opponents? In what scenario would that come in use? Should he climb high up in the trees and jump down on the golems?

  Wait? Why did that not sound like a terrible idea?

  Well. It was a terrible idea. Stone golems weren’t the cooperative kind. Not like they’d stand in wait while he jumped on them. Then again, he’d not asked them. Who knew, perhaps this one might be a gentlemanly golem—

  Swish

  A stone shard cleaved through the air in a white line, confirming it was indeed not friendly. Though its aim veered far too wide, striking a tree on the left.

  “Stupid,” He cursed himself. He shouldn’t have gotten distracted with a fight in front of him. Even if this thing looked like a baby, this was still a murderhobo golem with a taste for blood.

  The second shard cracked through the air like a bullet. Right on the mark. Aiming for his shoulder blades. He hastily bent his body sideways to avoid it, flaring his old injuries open.

  “Fuck you.” He lunged at it to give it the most cracking headshot of its life, crumbling it down to with one strike.

  Energy bolted into his body in a flash, but there was no level-up notification.

  Instead, the headache returned. The constant swirling quest that bobbled in the corner of his eyes.

  Titansfall (Hell Zone)—Quest Objectives

  Defeat Stone Golems I. (4/10)

  Defeat Stone Turtles. (0/5)

  Defeat the Stone Ape.

  Defeat the Dungeon Boss.

  Judging by this place so far, hell zone seemed a fairly accurate name Stone Golems, he could deal with. They weren’t that difficult, at least not the ones he had met, bodies being brittle and all. The one he had crushed first was apparently level fifteen; he might have to run from that.

  Whatever Stone Turtles were, it was safe to assume that they were stronger than the golems. As for the stone ape and the dungeon boss, he could only hope they weren’t foraging around.

  It was like being assigned to an unrelated workload at the office, and you couldn’t just say no; that practically meant forfeiting the job.

  An unwritten rule that everyone supposedly knew.

  Everyone except him.

  If you leave a hidden dungeon without clearing the objectives, you will earn the Feat “Dungeon Ditcher.”

  At least here, the warnings were clear and legible.

  What would a feat like that mean in Eldera? Would everyone avoid him like the plague? Would they not give him quests or jobs?

  He’d not mind it that much, actually.

  Though he wasn’t running away in the first place.

  He fell into a quiet contemplation. The whole feat system was broken. Someone with ten could probably smack down someone with five, despite being at the same level. And this disparity would only snowball from there on, like a feedback cycle.

  He got a super lucky start. And every time he got lucky, the universe sent him tenfold punishment to make up for it. So he should get himself ready for the punishment.

  He spoke to the air, “Status points.”

  Status points

  Strength: 7

  Constitution: 9(3)

  Vitality: 6

  Dexterity: 8

  Fortitude : 13(5)

  Intelligence: 4

  Free points: 05

  Not the most balanced stat sheet ever, admittedly, but he was faring much better than he should have due to the feats.

  Strength was self-explanatory. Constitution and vitality had already shown their effect: improved resilience, faster healing and better recovery from fatigue. Back on earth, healing these many injuries would’ve taken a couple of weeks, several antibacterial courses, and an unreasonable medical bill.

  Here on Eldera, he might heal back to full within one day; less if he could level up again.

  Dexterity probably meant speed, reaction speed, hand precision, all that stuff. He was too used to running, so no surprise that he had eight base points in it, making it the highest of his stats. Fortitude seemed like a measure of how many bitch slaps he could take. And Intelligence was well... still bugged.

  He knew what he needed right now.

  “System, allot my free points to strength.” He decided. It could help him power through these golems, gaining levels and healing up first. So, he hoped, waiting for his body to magically grow stronger, but even after a while, he felt no change in him.

  Not even a notification.

  Frowning, he checked the screen again.

  Free points: 05

  What?

  “Enter my free stats in strength.” He tried with a different combination of words this time.

  Nothing.

  “Put my free status points into strength.”

  Crickets.

  “Insert my status points into strength.”

  He tried a few more times.

  Then he came to the same conclusion as before—this bloodydamn system was bugged.

  ***

  Waves of sunlight bathed his skin as he kept heading deeper inside the jungle. If he ignored the startling lack of living things and the occasional stone hazards, this would be a prime location for a vacation.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper vacation. Perhaps a decade ago? When he was still at home. When everything was still alright.

  He trudged through his pockets. Scouring his warped wallet, he fished out a worn-out picture. It had gotten even more tattered from the fall. His eyes softened at the sight.

  His mother sat in the middle of a couch, carrying a baby, Leah, who resembled a grumpy cat. On the flank stood two small boys, one whose face had become unclear from repeated scratches.

  Unknowingly, a smile tugged up on his lips.

  Though he forgot why Leah was that mad, he’d bet a hundred on him being the cause. He’d been a bit of a troublemaker. On the other hand, Leah was a top student. A clean freak.

  Last time he saw her, her room used to be uber clean without a speck of dust. He’d occasionally mess it up just to rile her up. She still hated him for that.

  That was a decade ago, almost.

  She would hate the monsters, wouldn’t she?

  They should be okay, right? Unlike him, they were in a tutorial. Leah was smart; she aced things. His mom was pragmatic and cold; she…she’d be fine too.

  His…brother, well, he was not useless like him…

  “Yeah, they’d be fine. Don’t you worry.” Zayn consoled himself and put the picture inside his bag. Not like he could do anything about them from here. The reality was, he was not strong enough to protect them right now. He couldn’t even protect himself.

  But if he got strong, then, maybe, maybe this time… he wouldn’t be the useless son.

  “As if they would care—” His laughter was cut short as he felt an immense sense of danger.

  The air screamed, and the entire forest had suspiciously quietened down, and that was a eerie feeling because it was always quiet. He crouched and rushed to the cover of a tree.

  What was this presence he felt? Was it a monster? Maybe the dungeon boss himself?

  Finding nothing, he frowned. There was no one around, yet the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong rang in his head. Then he saw his hands were empty.

  He frowned, opening and closing it. Where did the fork go?

  His eyes darted around in increasing panic until he noticed a flash of light not too far away. The fork had wedged itself into the ground.

  Weird.

  He didn’t remember doing any such thing, but it was possible he’d just forgotten.

  He rushed to retrieve it. Using all his strength, he attempted to pull the fork out, but as if something really strong had bitten down on it, it wouldn’t even bulge an inch.

  “What the hell?” Zayn laughed nervously to keep his fraying nerves at bay.

  Perspiration fell as he felt something otherworldly focus on him again.

  A gaze.

  The jungle quietened. A faint smell of ash and rot floated in the air.

  The rational part of his brain screamed at him to run and never return.

  Not without the fork!

  But no matter what he did, the fork got dragged down by the ground. A slow, vice pull—inch by inch. Madness gripped his heart. He roared and, with all his strength, tried his best to drag it back out.

  Like a death grip, however, it refused to forgo even one centimeter.

  "The hell?"

  His brain froze in helplessness. Time slowed and prisoned his thoughts as the fork kept sinking down into the ground. Worse, the pull on the chain strengthened, too.

  It was as if the world was trying to take everything he had.

  With a guttural roar, he ran up to one of the trees, climbing up in haste without caring for the wounds. He wouldn’t allow the chain to meet the same fate as the fork.

  That seemed to have been the correct choice.

  The more he climbed, the weaker the pull got—like a magnet. Eventually, the pull receded, and he no longer felt it. The fork sank completely into the ground.

  Whatever took it left no signs.

  He gazed down with halted breaths, heart drumming like crazy.

  After hanging onto the tree for what felt like an eternity, he climbed back down. The force that had been pulling had long vanished. But as he set his feet down on the ground, he had a newfound apprehension for this deathly white forest.