The brilliance had swallowed me whole. For an instant, I was there, lost in that blinding light, and the next instant…
Silence.
The air was different. Heavy, thick. A scent of humus and decaying vegetation seeped into my nostrils, replacing the iron scent that had been imprinted in my mind.
I opened my eyes.
A forest. Unknown. Foreign. Suffocating.
The tree trunks, immense and twisted, formed a natural prison, their dense foliage nearly completely blocking out the sky. Only a few pale rays of light pierced through the gaps, casting distorted shadows on the moss-covered ground. The air was saturated with humidity, each breath seeming to weigh down my chest. The oppressive atmosphere crushed me almost as much as the lingering anxiety gnawing at me.
I placed a hand on my chest, trying to steady the frantic beating of my heart. My body still trembled from the aftermath of the previous events. Everything had happened so fast: the panic, the selection, the flash… and now this.
A rustling behind me.
I jumped, spinning around instantly, my nerves on edge.
There were six of them.
Six other people, scattered around me, just as disoriented. Some were still on the ground, catching their breath, while others looked around with wide eyes, trying to understand. I wasn't surprised. In truth, I had expected this.
In the class descriptions, one word had come up several times: Formation.
I had read it, analyzed it, without truly paying attention in the heat of the moment. But now that I was faced with it, this confirmation sent a strange shiver through me.
I was not alone.
Used to solitude, I often sought refuge in it, preferring isolation to the risk of being hurt again. Yet this time… this time, something was different.
For the first time, being surrounded by others reassured me.
A breath of air, an anchor to reality.
Even if I didn't know them. Even if, deep down, they were strangers thrown into the same hell as me…
For once in my life, solitude would have terrified me.
As my thoughts drifted through this silent chaos, a man slowly stepped forward. Tall, imposing, he exuded a natural authority. His short, slightly unkempt blond hair caught the dim light filtering through the trees. His pale blue eyes betrayed nervousness and uncertainty despite his visible effort to maintain a calm facade. The armor he wore, new and perfectly fitted, gleamed without a single scratch. His shield, just as pristine, seemed both solid and elegant.
At his belt, a large one-handed sword shimmered with an almost unreal glow. When he reached the center of the group, he forced a friendly smile, but his gaze, still marked by fear and tension, betrayed his inner state. He took a deep breath, as if to summon courage, before speaking.
— Well… First of all, my name is Romain. I've noticed that we're all equipped with weapons and outfits corresponding to our classes. We might as well share what we have—it'll help us understand the situation better and figure out a solution together.
He paused, scanning the group. Despite his tense posture, a sense of determination radiated from him. He wasn't comfortable, but he seemed determined to take the lead.
— As for me, I chose the Heavy Warrior class.
His voice, though shaky, carried an underlying steadiness. His nervousness was evident, but he pushed through, choosing to move forward regardless. It was clear: this wasn't easy for him, but he was committed to playing his role.
After a few seconds of silence, a second voice broke the tension. I turned my head toward its source.
A woman stood there, a staff in her hand, wrapped in a long brown cloak. Her hood concealed her face, but after a moment of hesitation, she slowly pulled it back. Her features, marked by age, hinted at a forced serenity. Her shoulder-length hair was slightly wavy, and her dull brown eyes reflected exhaustion and the effort she was making to stay composed. A fragile, almost apologetic smile formed on her lips. She was trying her best to reassure the group, but like Romain, she couldn't completely mask her tension.
After a heavy silence, she lifted her head and addressed the group.
— Nice to meet you all. My name is Marie, and I'm a healer. I know this situation isn't ideal, but let's trust Romain. It can't be easy for him either…
One by one, the group members introduced themselves in a precise order.
First, Jules introduced himself: an archer in his thirties, of average build. He wore a short cloak without a hood, revealing his athletic frame. At his side, a longbow and a small knife completed his equipment.
Then came Léonard, a warrior with fine features and an undeniably handsome face. He wielded a two-handed sword, his presence exuding a certain effortless grace.
Next was Janna, a martial artist. Lightly dressed, her leather gloves accentuated the precision of her movements. Her bronzed, perfectly sculpted body contrasted harmoniously with her fiery red hair. To me, she embodied a beauty both wild and graceful, a striking figure impossible to overlook.
I introduced myself briefly: "Anthony." I wore a short hooded cape, and my two daggers were discreetly strapped to my belt. My 1.72m height anchored me in an average build. My face, fairly pleasant, contrasted with my reserved personality.
Finally, the last to introduce himself was Lucas, the youngest of the group. A mage, he seemed as young as he was nervous. His dark red cloak, similar to Marie's, stood out against the forest's dimness. Clutching a magic book in his trembling hands, he looked uneasy, weighed down by the uncertainty of the situation.
The eldest, Marie, took it upon herself to comfort Lucas while the rest of the group discussed the best course of action. Jules, the hunter, a survivalist in real life, actively participated in the conversation, his pragmatic advice proving invaluable in this situation. Meanwhile, the emotions and stress slowly faded from my mind. My eyes burned with fatigue, struggling to stay open. Two days without sleep—an urgent need for rest pressed upon me. To stay awake, I finally decided to open my status window. The moment I thought about it, it appeared before me.
[Status]
Name: Anthony Paine
Race: Human (Common)
Class: Light Warrior (1)
Profession: --
[Stats]
Strength: 7
Speed: 11 (+3)
Perception: 8 (+1)
Vitality: 6
Intelligence: 13 (+2)
Mana: 0
Mental: 7
Endurance: 6
Free Points: 13
[Skills]
Universal Language (Mythic) – Ability to understand and read all racial languages, except divine and ancient tongues.
Identification (Inferior) – Briefly analyzes an object or ability, revealing basic information such as name, quality, and general use.
Dual Dagger Mastery (Inferior) – Enables basic proficiency with two daggers, slightly improving fluidity and attack speed. However, accuracy remains rough, movements lack finesse, and critical strikes are rarely optimized.
Stealth (Inferior) – Partially conceals presence, reducing the chances of being detected by enemies.
[Titles]
Candidate for the Twelve Chosen – One of 7,777 individuals selected by the Twelve Ancient Gods, granting a chance to join the exclusive ranks of the Twelve Chosen. Grants +12 free stat points.
Upon entering this forest, I had felt a strange warmth flood my mind and body, as if data were being poured into me. It was slightly painful. At first, I assumed it was just my brain reacting to the madness of it all, but thinking back, it must have been due to the skills and stats I had received.
Yet my focus remained on the title. As I pondered its meaning, an additional window appeared before me.
[Welcome to the Tutorial]
[Twelve Chosen Selection: 7,770/12 survivors] – Become one of the last 12 survivors chosen by the Ancient Gods to receive their blessing and be inducted among the Chosen.
7,770. I couldn't help but say the number aloud, stunned. My mind jolted awake once again, forced to think far more than it should. A single conclusion struck me: seven people were already dead. I had no choice but to focus on the dark future ahead.
After a moment of thought, I allocated my free points, prioritizing mental resilience and endurance to last the day. I invested six points into those attributes—three in each—and the remaining seven into speed. The idea of fleeing danger never left my mind.
The moment I confirmed my choice, a warm sensation spread through me, reaching my muscles and mind. It was strange, almost soothing. My breath steadied, my tension eased. For the first time since arriving, a semblance of calm enveloped me.
Then, a strange noise shattered the silence: a jerky rustling in a nearby bush, too irregular to be caused by the wind. A growl echoed, then another, and another. Deep, discordant, inhuman. As if several creatures, whose voices should never have existed, were trying to imitate a sound they did not understand. An unsettling vibration emanated from it, a rumbling that seemed to gnaw at the very air. My body tensed, a cold sweat running down my back. The group's conversation died out instantly. Instinctively, I activated my concealment skill and withdrew slightly to the side, heart pounding.
4o