“Alright, new recruit, ready to prove yourself?” Shea asked with a slight smile, aimlessly twirling the trident in his hand. He had moved everyone outside after the declaration of war, citing it as a valuable and important teaching moment for the group. Something about never underestimating your opponent, never being needlessly arrogant. I wasn’t entirely paying attention. All I knew was that I was eager to see Shea whip some sense into who I have deemed my most frustrating colleague. “How’s your weapon feeling?”

The new recruit—Rory—gave Shea a curt shrug, rolling the much larger, much sharper, and much more intimidating trident in his hand with the confidence of a general. “Fine.”

A sharp ping! echoed in my mind, and a notification appeared before me.

[New Objective: Observe the Sparring Match.]

[Reward: Combat XP +3]

“Good enough for me.” Shea replied. “Everyone, I’ve sent an objective over to you with a reward. It’s a little thank you for sitting tight and watching Rory get his first beat down by a member of the Coral Guard.”

I accepted the notification without hesitation—experience for sitting around and doing nothing? Count me in. Though, I couldn’t help but feel curious about the reward. Shea was allowed to gift us experience? Not a tangible item like Tara did when giving us our contracts, but something that would actively affect our stats? A glance at Shea’s profile confirmed my suspicions—his own combat stats had decreased by nine. He was distributing his own points to us.

Odd.

I suppose he was confident in his ability to get them back, and quickly.

As I looked back up to observe the impending match, a screen flickered next to each of the participants, displaying both Shea’s and Rory’s stats side-by-side. Compared to me, Rory was an all-star player. But compared to Shea, and compared to Niall, who was a newcomer himself, they were laughable. His lowest scores were intelligence and charm, which should come as no surprise, considering his earlier frustrations.

Overall, things were looking great for the Seaspell Caster and terrible for the brand new, low-ranking recruit.

“Remember, Rory, combat isn’t just about brute strength.” Shea said as he lazily spun his trident, the weapon cutting through the water with ease. “Try not to rely on brute strength when you fight me. Think about strategy, timing, and when to strike.”

Rory didn’t seem to take the advice to heart, and with the insufferable eye roll he gave our new platoon leader, I could tell he was thinking that Shea was the one in need of schooling.

Without waiting for his superior to announce the spar was starting, Rory lunged forward, his trident aimed right at Shea’s head. But, just as the weapon was about to connect, Shea flicked his tail. With a blinding speed, he shot upward, leaving behind a trail of shimmering bubbles that burst into Rory’s face.

[Shea Sonas has activated Tail of the Gods.]

Rory’s hands flailed, attempting to rid his vision of the incessant slew of water and effervescing waves that flung themselves in front of his eyes. But, that proved to be both stupid and futile. Shea reappeared behind him, and delivered a swift blow with the butt of his rocky trident to Rory's shoulders. He was sent spiraling into the tent and then further into a shelf of potions, hitting it with a loud CRASH. The glass vials rattled, and Shea held his breath, waiting to see if one fell, but none did.

“Careful,” I watched Shea chide the recruit, as if Rory were the one to fling himself into a wooden plank. “Those potions are worth more than your entire military salary.”

Rory growled and pushed himself off the shelf, his pride clearly wounded. I could see a momentary flicker of something malicious in his eyes, his hand twitching, as if it wanted to swipe each and every bottle off of those shelves, but he held himself back.

What a smart move for someone with such low intelligence.

Advancing once more, Rory tried with all his might to catch Shea. He needed to land at least one hit on his superior---the superior that he stupidly challenged. He swung his weapon in a wide arc, an attempt to slice from Shea’s lower torso all the way to in between his eyes. But, despite the brutality of the attack, Shea didn’t seem fazed or worried. If anything, he seemed delighted, his dodge flawless and airy.

"Your geometry is off. I'd recommend a lower starting point." With a casual flick of his wrist, he activated Arcane Surge.

A wave of energy pulsed through the water, yellow veins emitting from Shea’s finger tips in a similar fashion to his earlier show of magic. The battlegrounds suddenly grew bright and distorted as the force gathered around Shea, the sorcery spindling up his hand, then arm, then trident, buzzing and crackling. He thrust his weapon forward, coalescing the energy into a massive, glowing weapon of pure mana that encapsulated his own. Rory had no time to react. The magical trident struck, sending him careening across the camp, crashing into a far gate.

[Shea Sonas has activated Arcane Surge.]

My eyes widened at the display of power, of pure, magical energy that he was able to pull from thin air.

It was so…

INCREDIBLE!

Incredible in a way where I wasn’t sure if I could go on living life knowing I chose a path other than one that gave me the ability to wield, create and harness such energy.

Maybe activating the System wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe… maybe my purpose could be something druidical, something enchanted.

And throwing my parents in the dungeon, of course. Can’t forget that.

Looking back to Rory, I watched as he groaned and shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the daze the magical assault had put him in. The sparks surrounding him flickered and dissipated, leaving just his panting form and blinking red stamina bar in the corner of the System Screen. Shea, on the other hand, seemed fine. Well-rested, even. His mana bar was the only thing that took a hit, but the mere fact that he even had any mana still meant that he wasn’t trying his hardest, wasn’t going all out. I could see it steadily regenerating already—a benefit of that skill I had noticed he had before: Mana Flow. A nearby energy source, a glowing, yellow crystal embedded into the seabed, hummed softly as it fed Shea’s reserves.

In spite of Rory’s pitiful state, Shea decided against calling off the match. With another swift movement, he summoned a small vortex of water around his tail, launching himself forward at a calculated speed. Still too dazed, still too exhausted, Rory couldn’t bring himself to defend whatsoever. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Shea delivered a final strike, tapping the recruit’s weapon with just enough force to knock it out of his hands, rendering him unarmed.

[Objective Complete: Observe the Sparring Match]

[Combat Experience +3]

“Lesson one,” Shea said as he floated back, his voice carrying a tone of finality as he allowed Rory to collect himself. “Never underestimate the importance of strategy. Magic and physical strength aren’t mutually exclusive. They complement each other, especially in this world. Sure, there are obvious negatives to taking up my route, but there are lots of positives.”

“I… understand, sir.” Rory pulled himself together, nodding weakly, his breathing labored.

Shea swam back to the center of the tent, a grin on his face as he watched his new recruits’ expressions flash with a twinge of excitement, glad about the tiny boost to their experience points. He raised a hand, addressing everyone and commanding their newfound respect. “Tomorrow, we’ll be going through a fun little cardio training—team building—and then focusing on honing your individual skills. Some of you may want to focus on physical combat, others on magic, and others on elemental manipulation, but I urge you to try out everything.”

As the members cleared out, eager to sign their contracts and complete their entry into the military, I turned to leave as well. But Shea stopped me, drifting over with a curious face, his bright, yellow tail trailing behind him in the water.

“Firth. Mind if I have a word?”

I nodded, feeling a nervous knot in my stomach. What did I do wrong?

“Not to put you on the spot, here but,” Shea thought for a moment as if figuring out how to word what he needed to say nicely, “you’re a bit older than the other recruits, and a bit… behind for someone your age.”

Great. Of course we’d have to have this talk, and of course we’d have it now. Before I could get any more offended than I already was, he continued.

“It’s no problem, of course. Just couldn’t help but find it strange considering the fact you’re a Ridire.”

There it was. My father’s reputation incessantly following me, making my lack of accomplishments and skills seem even more jarring than they already were.

I looked to my platoon leader for a long while, formulating a response. This Shea character couldn’t be any older than me—he was tall and smiley, with bright yellow, lemony hair and dark gold eyes. His clothes were modest and mage-like, with a white tunic fitted to his slimmer waist by rope and fishing wire, and a fibrous shawl wrapped loosely around his shoulders and neck.

Not really someone I would peg for a warrior.

“Yes, my father has a penchant for conquest. I, on the other hand, do not.” I said, my voice tinged with a bitterness I was unaccustomed to.

“Guessing you were forced to join, then?”

“Yes.”

“And you hate fighting?”

“Yes.”

“Hate the military?”

“...On occasion.”

Shea hummed in response, opening up my System Screen for me and tapping the inventory tab, gazing at the white slip of paper—my contract—within. With another press of his finger, the little scroll ballooned out of its glass prison and into his hands. Within the many pockets my platoon leader had in his utility apron, he located a pen, freshly filled with squid ink, and handed me the two items.

“Well, there isn’t much you can do about it now. But you’ve got a million pearls waiting for you once you sign this, and we’ll take things at your own pace. Life is going to suck, yeah, but not forever. And I think you can be honorably discharged after a certain amount of service.”

I sighed, knowing he was right. With a swift motion, I scribbled my name down on the paper in my finest cursive, watching it glow for a moment before disappearing.

BRING!

[Quest: Join the Military— COMPLETED!]

[Reward Gained: One Million Pearls]

[These funds will be on hold until you have reached Level twenty-five.]

Level twenty-five? Really? Kind of misleading, but that can’t take me too long to get to, can it?

As I waited for my System Screen to dissipate, another quest popped up in front of me, one that piqued my interest.

[New Side Quest: Create a Healing Salve] 

[Objective: Gather ingredients and craft a basic healing salve.]

[Reward: +10 Crafting Experience, +1 Herbalism Level]