John dragged Justin through the undergrowth, boots pounding the dirt. The forest blurred past—branches snapping, roots clawing at their feet. That whistle still rang in his ears, sharp and too close. The elves were coming, and they weren’t far behind.


    Justin stumbled, panting hard. “T-they’ve got Helena” he said, voice shaky. “The elf said they have a girl.”


    John didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, a faint grimness in his eyes. He felt a flicker of pity for her but kept moving, shoving Justin forward when he slowed. No time for that now.


    The air shifted—a rustle, then a hiss. John’s head snapped left. Too late. A dark shape burst from the trees, fast and low. Another dark elf, blade gleaming.


    “Move!” John barked, pushing Justin aside. The weapon grazed his arm, hot pain flaring as blood soaked his sleeve. He swung his gladius, catching air—the elf was already gone, melting back into the shadows.


    More came. Two, three—dark forms weaving through the trees, silent as ghosts. John grabbed Justin’s arm, hauling him toward a ditch. “Down!”


    They slid into the shallow drop, dirt crunching under them. Justin hit the ground hard, gasping. John crouched over him, gladius up, scanning the gloom. His arm throbbed, blood dripping steady, but he ignored it.


    Footsteps—light and quick—closed in. A shadow loomed above the ditch. John lunged, blade slashing up. Steel met steel, a shrill clang cutting through the quiet. The elf snarled, leaping back, but not before John’s gladius nicked his leg.


    Another darted in from the side, aiming for Justin. John spun, swinging his gladius over Justin’s head to meet the attack. The dagger clashed against his blade, but the elf twisted, slicing into John’s shoulder before he could pull back. He grunted, shoving the elf off with a quick jab of his pommel. It stumbled back, giving them a second.


    “Run!” John growled, pulling Justin up. The kid’s eyes were wide, fixed on the blood staining John’s shirt.


    “B-but—”


    “Run!” John repeated, steel in his voice.


    Justin crawled out of the ditch and bolted, and John followed. His shoulder burned, arm hanging heavy, but he kept the gladius ready. The elves’ footsteps echoed behind—closer, relentless. They weren’t done.


    The forest thickened, trees pressing in tight. John’s breath came hard, blood slicking his grip. Justin tripped ahead, scrambling back up with a yelp. No time to stop.


    A twang cut the air—an arrow. John ducked on instinct, but it slammed into his thigh, punching through muscle. He stumbled, biting down a curse, and forced himself forward. Pain seared with every step, but he dragged Justin behind a jagged rock.


    They were pinned—elves closing in, shadows flickering between the trunks. A steely look in his eye, John sheathed his gladius, hands steady despite the blood. He sank into focus, mana pooling hot in his core, deeper than before.


    He pushed the mana into his grip, condensing it hard. He kept pouring more in, focusing it tighter each time. His hand crackled with power around the gladius hilt. Some of the smarter elves noticed, holding back, wary.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    It still wasn’t enough.


    John’s mind shifted—Flash Draw wasn’t just the swing. It was the mana bursting out, light as a blade itself. He squeezed it sharper, forcing the energy to cut, not just flash.


    Something clicked—Flash Draw was sharpened intent, channeled raw.


    Flash Draw has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.


    Three elves stepped into view—two with daggers, one gripping a short spear, eyes glinting. John gripped his hilt, knees bent, breath slow. In. Out.


    They lunged towards him, and he pulled the gladius free in one sharp arc, light exploding from the blade—brighter, wider, a searing wall of it.


    The forest lit up. Two elves dropped instantly, cut clean in half, blood spraying over the dirt. The third staggered back, arm gone, screaming as he clutched the stump.


    The rest of the elves—two that John could see in the shadows—froze, then fled, retreating fast. One withdrew a bone whistle with shaky hands, and blew into it.


    John knew more were likely out there. He stood there, panting, gladius still humming faintly. The elves’ shock hung thick—they hadn’t expected that. Neither had he.


    Suddenly, a robotic voice sounded in John’s ears.


    24 hours have passed. Congratulations on surviving the first stage of the tutorial! Do you wish to proceed to the second stage?


    John had not been expecting that. He looked at Justin, and could tell from his eyes that he had heard it too.


    “Accept it.” John said.


    “Okay. Are you gonna accept it too?”


    “Of course, I''ll be right behind you.” he lied.


    Hesitating only for a second, Justin nodded. A moment later, he vanished.


    John’s eyes widened slightly. He had been expecting it, but seeing it in person still shocked him.


    He shifted his focus back to the elves. They were creeping closer, confidence returning but wary now, giving him space.


    Peering into the forest, John couldn’t tell how many were out there. The smart move was to accept the System’s offer and leave this place.


    But something stopped him. His thoughts flicked to that girl—trapped here with these bastards. He didn’t know her, but she was human.


    An elf lunged, spear jabbing low. John sidestepped, pain screaming through his thigh, and slashed back. The gladius bit into the elf’s chest—blood sprayed, and he dropped.


    A bell rang in his head.


    Basic Swordsmanship has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.


    More rushed in—daggers flashing, a spear thrusting. John ducked, swung, thrust—his shoulder bled, his leg buckled, but he kept going. Mana surged hot in his chest, crackling down his arm. He poured it into his grip, slashing wild. Another elf fell, gut split.


    He barely heard them. Two more charged—John parried a spear, took a dagger slash across his ribs, and rammed his gladius through the spear elf’s throat. Blood soaked his hands, his breath ragged.


    Basic Swordsmanship has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.


    The forest blurred. Pain faded. He sank into a trance—swing, dodge, thrust, kill. Mana burned through him, sharp and fast. He sheathed his sword. Flash Draw flared again—light ripped out, smaller but deadly, slicing an elf’s head clean off.


    Combat Sense has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.


    Focused Energy Circulation has leveled up. The player has gained a new level of mastery over this ability.


    Bodies hit the dirt. One, two, five—John lost count. His leg gave out, arrow still lodged deep, but he pushed himself back up, gladius swinging. An elf stabbed at his back—he spun, too slow, and took it in the side. He roared, driving his blade through the elf’s skull.


    Silence fell.


    John stood, swaying, chest heaving. Dark elf corpses littered the ground—blood pooling, limbs twisted. His gladius dripped red, arm trembling.


    The few left—three, maybe four—stared from the shadows. Their eyes were wide, faces pale, like he was some demon crawled out of hell. They scattered, crashing through the trees, gone to report whatever they’d seen.


    John sank to one knee, breath shallow. He was still alive. Barely.