“Most of you should survive,” Professor Verona said. “The danger level is adjusted so that the professors should be able to pull you out if it becomes necessary—failing the test immediately, of course—but still, many people die each year trying. Don’t think of it as safe, because you’ll be taking your life lightly.”

  Verona stood before the rows and rows of students, hands clasped firmly behind her back. In the distance, on the blurry horizon, the tall, white towers of the academy shone almost brighter than the sun.

  “You are all here because you want to be heroes. That comes with certain privileges, but above all, sacrifices. And it all begins today; it’s the first day of the rest of your lives. The only question is whether it will be long or very short.”

  Wow, what a direct woman, Vincent thought, swallowing hard.

  “But ultimately, you are knights, warriors, barbarians. Mages, rogues, paladins—you were literally born for this. It’s nothing you can’t overcome. I wish you luck, truly. You have five minutes to prepare. If you want to back out, no one will stop you. When those five minutes pass, if you’re still here, you will cross this portal and give your best in the test. This is your last chance to back out. I hope that’s clear,” Verona said.

  Vincent looked around. They were literally born for this, he thought. But I wasn't. Just thinking about it, he opened his stats screen, visible only to him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made it this far. It was a perfect lie, as no one could prove otherwise.

  Name: Vincent

  Level: 8

  Class: Blacksmith

  This academy, Runehaven Academy, was designed for Combat Classes. Not for someone like him. Not for an NPC, Necessary Public Citizen. Vincent had never understood the name. It suggested there was some kind of unnecessary Public Citizen. Even if it made sense, it would be an ugly feeling, but that was another story.

  The weight on his shoulders increased with every passing second. Five minutes. Only five to prepare. But he had psyched himself up long before. He had much more to lose than everyone around him. He was an imposter, after all, looking like a real knight. But his sword, his armor, and even his shield—all forged by him. He was a blacksmith, after all. Strength, intelligence, constitution, wisdom, charisma, dexterity. In any case, his stats were below average.

  Stats:

  Strength: 14

  Dexterity: 10

  Constitution: 12

  Intelligence: 11

  Wisdom: 9

  Charisma: 8

  He couldn't see others' stats just as they couldn't see his, but it was obvious. He was just a village boy from a family of blacksmiths. He could only increase his strength, constitution, and dexterity so much by working with metal. They, families of heroes, of Combat Classes, had surely already killed monsters. They were stronger and better prepared than Vincent could ever hope to be.

  But that didn't mean he would give up. He had come too far to turn back. He didn't care about risking his life. His hands trembled, but deep down, he didn't care what value his life would have if he allowed his class, a simple system, to tell him what to do.

  “Alright,” Verona said, “approach the portal.” The countdown was over. To his surprise, none of the prospective students had turned back, heading home with their tails between their legs. But really, he shouldn't have been surprised. They were Combat Classes. What else could they do but join a combat academy? The system ruled everything, for better or worse. He felt some sympathy for them.

  “You know what you have to do,” Verona continued. “I won’t repeat the rules. If you’ve forgotten any details, that’s on you, not me.” The woman stepped aside, hands still behind her back. “Go ahead. And good luck.”

  Vincent was among the first to run towards the portal, the only portal, breaking the paralysis of fear. I'm more than just a blacksmith, he thought. I didn't come here to settle for mediocrity. He wanted to stand out from the start. On the other side of the portal was a normal-looking forest. Nothing had been visible from the other side. Still, instead of thinking about possible traps and dangers, he had plunged ahead. This was his only chance to forge his own future, after all.

  Vincent gritted his teeth. The initiation test for Runehaven Academy, the most prestigious academy in the kingdom, but the test itself was nothing extraordinary. On paper, that is. The forest on the other side of the portal didn't feel different from the forest surrounding his village, but he had no doubt it hid countless dangers. The Runehaven Academy initiation test was finally here, with his entire future hanging by a thread. Vincent gritted his teeth. He couldn't fail; it simply wasn't an option.

  But, of course, there were dozens and dozens of people in his same situation, thinking the exact same thing. Maybe… hundreds? He didn't know. Honestly, seeing the crowd had made him dizzy. He had almost never seen so many people together. His village didn't even have a hundred people in total. It wasn't easy to recognize something you'd never seen before at first glance.

  In any case, everyone thought the same thing, and not everyone could succeed. The task was, theoretically, easy: reach the other side and take the exit portal. That was all. Nothing special, except for the dangers in this forest… which was quite enough.

  Still, Vincent had hope. This was a test he should be able to pass, even though his stats were naturally lower than those of a true combat class. Surviving this shouldn't be too difficult. And the professors hadn't painted the odds too grimly, even for people better prepared than him. He could do it. At least, he could get his foot in the door. As for whether he could survive the academy, the three years of education… that was another story. But, at least, he had the opportunity he had so desperately wanted at his fingertips.

  Growls in the underbrush; trouble didn't take long to find Vincent. A shadow emerged from the even deeper shadows of the forest. It looked like a person—impossible to tell if male or female—but black as night from head to toe. No features, nothing to distinguish it. Except for the tentacles. Two tentacles extended from its chest and back. It would be grotesque to see on a normal human body. Since it was like a shadow had suddenly decided to stand up, it just looked unnatural and creepy.

  “Alright,” Vincent muttered. It was what appeared to be a Shadow, a basic monster found in all the kingdom's dungeons, especially on the lower levels. Not a threat… not to real adventurers, not to heroes. But he wasn't even a student yet, and he only knew the theory. For Vincent, it was the first real obstacle in his life so far, and of the future he desperately craved.

  He gritted his teeth. He raised the sword and shield he himself had forged over countless hours. He couldn't say he was even the best blacksmith in the village, but that fact gave him more confidence than he would ever have in someone else's equipment. His… weapons would withstand the blows and be able to kill that monster. The armor was also impeccable. It was his agile blacksmith's body he wasn't sure about. He swallowed.

  Then, as if it had been waiting for that precise moment… “Fuck!”

  So fast. It was just a blur to his eyes, but his were inexperienced eyes that had never seen a fight to the death, so that didn't say much. He was only able to raise the shield to protect his head, but that was more than enough. The tentacles easily cracked the wood of his shield. If he hadn't stopped it, perhaps the attack would have split his skull in two. Vincent shuddered.

  An instant later, he went flying. The Shadow tossed him away like a toy. He rolled through the trees, panting and swallowing dust. He only stopped when he crashed against the trunk of a tree. The force of the impact knocked the air out of his lungs but cleared his head.

  “Shit…” He said it because only then did he realize he had lost his shield. Just like that. It was now undoubtedly out of his reach.

  With a single tentacle, the Shadow had thrown him about ten meters away. As desperately as he resisted the idea, it already seemed crazy that he had thought he could achieve this. He stood up, forgetting the weaknesses that would anchor him, getting to his feet despite the pain. He had to fight. This had only just begun. He knew he couldn't fall behind. With or without a shield, it didn't matter.

  “Son of a bitch!” Vincent charged fearlessly at the monster, gripping the sword with both hands. His current situation was irrelevant. He didn't have to be the strongest, or the smartest of the candidates, not even the hardest working. He just had to reach, perhaps… the other side. He didn't even have to win every fight. As long as he survived and reached the other side, it was enough.

  Those tentacles came for him again, with the same speed as before; a speed he could barely react to. Vincent thought he would back down at the last moment, losing courage, that he would jump aside, thinking only of his safety, but instead, he charged a little faster, forward, against that damned… bitch. He managed to cut off the front tentacles with a single slash. Of course, that meant nothing. No matter how he looked at it, that thing had no eyes. It could just turn around and continue as if nothing had happened.

  But Vincent didn't give it time for that. He decapitated the bitch, making it vanish forever. The monster's attack didn't hit his side, only because it disappeared too quickly. Vincent let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. That had been too close… and it was only the first battle. Still, it was a triumph. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel euphoric, on top of the world. And this has only just begun, he thought. Just begun.

  He recovered his shield. It was bruised, but undoubtedly still usable. He could still trust his life to that 'tool'. He was grateful that everyone else had had more important things to do than stop and watch him fight. Honestly, he wouldn't have endured the humiliation of almost dying to a supposedly low-level monster. He shouldn't care what anyone thought, but for now, he didn't have many reasons to feel confident, so he was grateful.

  And he thought, quite simply: Forward. He just had to cross the forest. The exit portal was on the other side. That was all. Simple, simple… on paper, like so many other things. Complicated in practice, undoubtedly, but far from impossible. He could do it. He could do it, and he would. Deep down, Vincent felt prepared for anything. As if killing a single monster proved anything.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He reached a clearing in the forest. The peace didn't last long. Half a dozen Shadows emerged from nowhere. Vincent wasn't alone, but while he backed away, examining the terrain and considering what to do, the other students took the opportunity to flee. Unintentionally, he had served as a distraction, giving them that chance. And why not? Nothing said, absolutely nothing, that they had to crush every enemy they encountered along the way. He should have done the same; he should have run without hesitating for a second. Vincent discarded that stupid sense of pride, but it was already a little too late. The shadows were approaching rapidly, and he didn't see an opening to slip through.

  What should he do? The answer to that question was very clear, but he had struggled with just one Shadow. How was he going to handle half a dozen? Impossible. Simply impossible, right?

  “Come and get me!” he yelled. He barely avoided a blow to the head, throwing himself to the ground. The tentacle passed dangerously close. A little closer and it would have caught him, but by the hairs. A mental image that would almost be funny if it hadn't intended to use that grip to rip his damn head off, had it reached him. Half a dozen fast monsters, with four weapons attacking at once, that could treat him like a punching bag… This basic monster, which adventurers treated as a mere inconvenience at best, was a… nightmare. Am I really going to die here? he thought.

  “No,” he took a deep breath, before whispering. “If I die, at least let it be with my head held high.” Fuck… He couldn't win the fight, that was more than clear, and sheer determination wouldn't save him. It wasn't something that could rewrite reality, like in a story. But, at least, he should be able to open a gap in their defenses—a path to escape. That wasn't unreasonable at all. That, at least…

  Vincent screamed from the bottom of his throat, to muster courage. His scream wouldn't intimidate anyone, but neither was it the empty scream of someone convinced they were going to die. The hungry beasts lunged at him. At that moment… he did it. He knocked down just one of those bitches with his shield, but it was enough to create an opening and run back into the forest again. The undergrowth and leaves rustled, welcoming him back to relative safety.

  Undoubtedly, other dangers awaited him, but once again he had defied death. There were no words to describe how exciting it was to prove his worth, and not just because a social class had decided, before he was even self-aware, that he would be a blacksmith. The merit was solely his. Only a madman would be proud of something like that, perhaps, but he figured if he cared about being mad, he wouldn't have gotten this far.

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” His laughter echoed in the forest. He couldn't contain himself. To be honest, he didn't even know why he was laughing. That was crazy too. The shield was dented. Maybe it wouldn't last much longer, but at least it had served to break through and save his life. Something was something. And now?

  His reward was finding more monsters. A skeleton with a chest cavity full of continuously spinning blades. Or so he thought at first, but then he realized, and vaguely remembered, that they were also bones. One of the few things he had been able to do to prepare for this was read, after all. So he had read a lot, and done basic physical exercise, as far as he could go without equipment, for years. That skeleton was a type of Revenant, and the spinning bones in its rib cage cut better than any razor. The ribs opened like flower petals, and the 'blades' emerged. Naturally. They wouldn't exactly be a threat if they stayed inside.

  There were other types of monsters, of course. A couple more of those Shadows, just what he needed. A slug, only its slime was acid. He remembered its capabilities perfectly; it could melt an unprotected person in less than a minute. Since Vincent wore armor, his death would be much slower and more painful. Fuck, why do I always have to think about these things? The situation was ten times worse than before, and once again there wasn't even another student to leave it all to or at least share the danger with.

  Still, all he had to do was stay calm. Actually surviving this was simple, because the number of enemies was irrelevant. Vincent hadn't received formal training as a swordsman, but it wasn't necessary to realize this. He just had to focus on one of the enemies. Defeating one was enough. That way, he would create an opening, and could achieve the victory of living to fight another day. He'd play the hero later, perhaps when—when he was a real hero. Right now, Vincent wasn't even a student.

  He ran, determined, towards one of the Revenants. Same strategy as before. Why fix what wasn't broken? Simply because they seemed the easiest target. The Shadows, he had already seen how dangerous they were. And while those slugs seemed easy to dominate, it was most likely that his sword would end up stuck inside its body before he could kill it. A very practical choice by elimination. It required a cool head to make the decision with the best chance of survival... Otherwise, he'd lose it, haha. The 'blades' flew towards his throat.

  Why fix what isn't broken? That, of course, made a lot of sense. The problem was that it was broken. More precisely, the blades… spinning so rapidly shattered his shield in the blink of an eye upon impact. He barely noticed before losing it forever. He jumped back just in time, because otherwise, he surely would have lost a hand too. The armor could take a good beating. Otherwise, he'd already be dead. But the shield had failed. He supposed it had been shoddy work, because he had less practice. Practice forging tools that others would use to take all the glory. He was a blacksmith, nothing more, nothing less. And he was going to die there in such a humiliating way. Fate was unreasonable and repulsive.

  Vincent almost lowered his head as if waiting for the executioner's axe. But the moment never came. Instead… Splaaash! A graceful figure landed kneeling on the grass. Long golden hair and slender legs wrapped in black stockings. For now, he only saw her from behind, but her movements captivated him even before she stood up, extended a hand, and disposed of the enemies that had made him feel his death was certain, in the blink of an eye. Wind and ice, gusts of wind and ice flew, shattering the opposition and transforming that piece of forest into a very different place. It was as if an intense battle had scarred the earth. A battle between armies, not individuals.

  Vincent gasped. He had never seen such a powerful mage in action, naturally, but her skill surpassed even what he thought he knew about theory. She must undoubtedly be someone special, but he thought this mostly because of her appearance. Then the girl turned around, and he discovered that, ironically, he had hit the nail on the head, though for the wrong reasons. Her face was pale, not in an unnatural, disturbing, or unsettling way, but in the way someone who simply didn't see much sun might look. But what caught the eye were her eyes, and her pupils, like pools of blood. And her sclera, red, like two pools of blood. The pupils, floating in that red sea, seemed about to be swallowed.

  She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Naturally, he would think that because she was a vampire, with a mastery of magic superior to normal, a charm to attract prey of both genders, and, of course, a thirst for blood that could become uncontrollable. His heart pounded much harder than the other times he had brushed with death. It was as if a lion had stepped in and saved him from a wild dog. He was still prey, he had just changed predators.

  The girl looked at him, smiling. She really was beautiful; he had no words to describe the ethereal beauty that hit him. She was perfect, but precisely because of that, he trembled as she advanced towards him, her boots crunching on the grass. She crouched like a panther, although Vincent was aware he was mixing metaphors, and she was much more lethal.

  “Relax.” More than unsettling, her voice was melodious. You had to admit it. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about vampires, but we don’t go around draining people dry at the slightest excuse. I just saved your life; you should thank me.”

  “That’s not it. Thank you.” The girl raised an eyebrow.

  “If not that, then what is it?”

  “It’s the first time I’ve seen a member of your kind.”

  “Oh, really? It’s rare for a family of knights to live in such a small, remote village, but stranger things have happened, I suppose.” She shrugged. “My name is Ayame, and yours?”

  “Vincent,” he replied slowly, adding after a moment. The vampire nodded.

  “Alright, Vincent. Want to team up?”

  “To pass the test?” That caught him by surprise. To begin with, she didn't look like someone who needed help with anything. “You’d be very useful to me,” he admitted, “but what would you get out of this?”

  “For starters, someone desperate enough to form an alliance.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “We just have to reach the portal on the other side of the forest. We’re not competing for a limited number of spots. So the most efficient and rational way to pass the test is to form alliances. But, apparently, people prefer to go it alone. Partly because of what I am, I suppose.” She shrugged.

  “So I’m not the first one you’ve offered this to.”

  “Yes, you are. I considered others, yes, but I saw enough to be sure it wouldn’t work. Well, what do you say? Answer however you want. If it's no, it's no, but say it now. Time is pressing.” Ayame extended a hand to see if he would shake it. Vincent stared at it, as if lost in thought. Then, he did what she expected.

  “Alright, I’ll do what I can.”

  “A knight and a vampire… not a very usual combination, but I think we’ll make a good team.”

  He wished he could be as sure as she was. But at least now his survival and success didn't depend solely on him. The idea would have scared him if he hadn't seen what she was capable of. Part of him feared that, deep down, she was using him, but her words made sense. “Okay, I’ll follow you.”

  Ayame spun on her heels and shot off. Vincent did his best to keep up. He didn't like admitting it, but the vampire was obviously slowing down for him. She was very light on her feet. Naturally, she wore no armor. She was dressed as if for a party or something elegant, and adorable. She didn't seem to feel like her life was at stake. Even an undead had an attachment to its existence. So it must be that she didn't consider the forest monsters a threat. In that case, why had she bothered proposing an alliance? Oh well, whatever. It didn't matter if it made sense or not. Only if he could take advantage of her to fulfill his dream. No, his destiny. And he could. And he would. So everything was fine. Everything was exactly where it needed to be. He could worry about the details later. Well, once he got into the academy, he wouldn't give a damn how he did it. Probably. No, he wouldn't. He was sure.

  The vampire's soft voice, clear as a bell, reached him. “Any problem, Vincent?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m just a bit curious. I’d like to ask you a question.”

  “I can’t promise I’ll answer, but shoot.”

  “What exactly do you think about vampires? What do you think you know?”

  “Nothing special. The basics. That you’re a species”—of monster, he had almost added—“that needs blood to survive and fuel your powers. Transforming into a bat… Melting into mist… Charming people. There are many stories about vampires…” Ayame nodded almost imperceptibly, listening. “I’ve also heard that you find it difficult to be in sunlight. But that seems not to be true.”

  “Don’t believe it. I’m not at 100%.”

  Maybe that was why, then. Maybe she felt vulnerable, even though the percentage she had lost clearly didn't prevent her from crushing any obstacle in her path, even though she surely had enough left. Vincent felt calmer; the situation didn't change just because of that, but knowing an explanation allowed him to relax. Otherwise, he surely would have started jumping to conclusions, like her intention was to keep him close to use him, and that she would betray him sooner or later, somehow, and things like that. But now he had an explanation to cling to, and with which to calm his nerves. That did him a lot of good, because he was just a bundle of nerves right now.

  “Is it painful?” he asked before he could think better of it. “The sunlight, I mean?”

  “Yes,” Ayame admitted in a low, almost inaudible voice, “quite painful.”

  Not being able to even go out during the day without it hurting, unless it was a rainy day, of course, was simply pitiful. He didn't understand why an entire species had to be condemned to that. Actually, he understood very little about the world. He was a village boy with a head too big and fat, inflated with dreams and fantasies. He had almost died a lot of times in a very short time. Only Ayame's last-second appearance had saved him. He had to remember that.

  Ayame suddenly crouched, knee on the ground, her skirt fluttering around her legs. “Get down, enemies nearby, but other candidates are already fighting them. Let’s take advantage.”

  Vincent followed her as soon as she resumed moving, grinning from ear to ear.

  Doing unto others as they had done unto you felt good, after all.