Instantly as soon as the countdown ended, I felt the strange pressure of the room amplify as I felt like I was squashed and stretched over and over.
Then, I felt like I was accelerated to terminal velocity despite not even moving. A bright flash blinded me and my ears buzzed alive like they were filled with a hive of bees. My stomach flipped and I nearly threw up the contents of my stomach, my superior control over my body being the only thing that stopped me.
Even worse, a few seconds I felt like I was torn from reality. My blood seemed to turn to sludge, barely being pushed through my veins as I was torn upward and then slammed down again. Then, I found myself in a different place, all these effects on my body disappearing.
Which was equally as nauseating, funnily enough.
I leaned against the desk in front of me now, clutching at my head with a free hand as it felt like my brain was trying to break out of my skull.
It was excruciating.
Until a wave of white light flooded over me and the others around me. There were still thousands of people around me in rows and columns of chairs and their accompanying desks but instead of hundreds of thousands of people, there were only a few thousands around me. Just like the information told me, then.
Two thousand five hundred people per Training Facility.
And this white light...was Healing Magic. Opposed to the blinding white light of the transfer, this light was...weirdly soft. Gentle. Kind. Unlike when you look at the sun or the bulb of a flashlight, this light didn't strain or hurt my eyes.
It was actually quite nice to watch as it curled around each individual in the room, like water. It wiped away any of the throbbing pain which allowed me to focus on the origin of the light.
A tall man with brown hair and soft blue eyes, dressed in a priest get-up was waving his hands around like he was orchestrating an invisible orchestra. From his hands came waves of light that flowed through the room.
It looked oddly beautiful. Like how the view from on top of a mountain was beautiful.
Though my gaze looked past the priest and toward the small crowd behind him. People of all genders, sizes and skin colors were behind him.
Some of them were in thick plate armor, some of them in light leather armor, some of them had swords, others lances or spears--some of them even had multiple weapons on themselves. Those who didn't have any armor or weapons, instead wore robes and wielded wands or staffs - these people were Mages, obviously.
By this point, the waves of healing light had helped everyone and soon they stopped being produced. The priest, a seemingly ever-present smile on his face, stepped forward and held his arms up in a welcoming gesture, "Hello everyone!" his voice boomed through the room without the need for speakers to boost his reach, "If you'd look to your desks, you'll see a pen and a piece of paper we need you to fill out. If you've happen to thrown-up on this paper, raise your hand and we'll get you a new one!" his smile, while gentle, was somewhat unsettling for some unknown reason.
Ignoring the few people who embarrassedly raised their hands, I turned my gaze downward and away from the priest and the group/crowd of natives behind him.
Like he'd said, there was a piece of paper there and a pen for me to write with.
Picking it up, I remembered the long ago lessons on handwriting and my hand felt some phantom cramping despite not doing anything. Wryly, I shook my head at the fact I had to use such an old system as writing on paper with a pen when holo-pads that could convert speech to text existed. Though I guess they don't have any of those here, huh?
Anyways, the first question was simple. It asked for my name, with which I wrote 'William Donovan'. Then it asked my age, and I wrote '18-years-old'. Then it went on to ask about all sorts of measurements - height, weight, arm length, body fat percentage.
It might seem like a lot of information but the process of the Otherworld was pretty much common knowledge by now, and as this information is always asked at the start, anyone who wants to go to Artrosia has to memorize this information.
And, prepared as I was, I'd obviously memorized it all.
Then it moved onto preferred combat style, where I wrote 'hand-to-hand combat' and in the box below, I wrote out that I was proficient with most weapons as well.
Then came the most important part. What class I was aiming for - or rather, what type of class I was aiming for. They didn't ask for specific names because most didn't know exactly what the specific name the class they were going for went by. Instead, it fell into basic categories. First, there was melee classes which was the bigger umbrella category.
After that, came things like swordsman, tank, rogue, archer, ranger, etc, etc.
I was told to pick when I was younger and I was still stuck between two different ones.
Fighter, a class that has a general proficiency in all weapons and uses them like a walking armory, switching between weapons and maximizing their combat ability. It was a solo Warrior class - no need for a party.
This was because some monsters had resistance to certain weapons/attacks. Some were resistant to slashes and stabs, so a blunt weapon was needed. Sometimes it was the opposite.
Fighter didn't have this problem. It also class evolved into a stronger variant with more benefits at level 25 called Weapons Expert.
The other class I was looking at was Brawler.
My main talent lay in hand-to-hand combat. It was just how my body seemed to be wired. I picked up hand-to-hand combat ten times quicker than swordsmanship, and dozens of times quicker than any other weapon I laid my attention and hands on. Brawler usually gave a skill that enhanced striking power and it's stat allocation would give me the speed, strength and endurance necessary to fight with my bare hands.
It could also evolve into some extremely strong classes at level 25, as long as the conditions were met. Brawler was also considered a solo Warrior class, purely because you can change the gauntlets you wear to include spikes that can switch up your attack type.
This means as long as you're prepared with a second pair of gauntlets, you can run a solo raid in the Obelisk.
Which is what I plan on doing. Why? Because less teammates means more level ups.
It's extremely dangerous, yes, but I have faith in my own ability to survive. I hadn't been trained by some of the best instructors in the world for no reason. Besides, the first few times you enter the Obelisk, you're on your own anyway. Raiding the Obelisk alone is also one of the Otherworld's tests as well.
In the end, I wrote down 'Brawler' on the piece of paper. I was better with my limbs than I was with other weapons, and with the fact that I can change out my gauntlets to change up my attack type...Fighter lost it's only advantage against Brawler at that point, for me anyway.
After that, it was a bunch of aptitude questions asking how you'd deal with certain situations. Lack of food in the Obelisk, ruined weapon and armor in the middle of a raid--that sort of stuff.
Once I was done, I put the pen down and relaxed into the chair I was sitting on.
Unlike the ones in the transfer room, these chairs were wooden and not very comfortable at all. Said chairs were aligned in twenty five columns and one hundred rows - a seat and desk for every single person transported here.
The sound of pen scrapping across paper was all that was apparent in the room of over a thousand people, apart from the odd cough or sneeze.
In about ten minutes, everyone was done, only really held back by a few dozen slowpokes who took their time filling out the relatively simple questions.
Once that was done, the crowd behind the priest each stepped out toward a column.
Twenty five people, for twenty five columns. And once each person got in place, they began to collect the pieces of paper on each person's desk.
The person responsible for my column was a tall man. Even taller than my height of 1.95m, he must've been at least 2m tall - probably even a little bigger than that. He was bigger in terms of muscle as well, with broader shoulders and longer arms - he was an absolute beast in terms of conditioning.
Which made sense; stats, levels, bloodlines and classes...they all change your appearance little by little. You won't grow a few inches - ever - but you will grow a few centimeters, your muscle mass will slowly change and perfect itself depending on how your stats are allocated and whether or not you have a bloodline that affects your physical body. Still, this guy would've still been taller than me even before his leveling began.
From the complete lack of armor and the fact he had two gauntlets hanging off a string attached to his waist...I'd wager a bet that this guy is a Brawler.
His calm steps carried him far, his long legs giving him an equally long stride. He made zero sound when compared to the people covered in heavy plate armor or even the light leather armor. He was completely silent, his movements elegant and poised to the extreme.
And then he finally arrived at my desk.
His dark eyes stared down at me, his bald head somewhat gleaming under the light from above. He reached down and grabbed the piece of paper with his massive bear-like hands and when he looked down at it, he actually stopped and then looked back to me - except this time, his eyes were alight with curiosity. After a few seconds of this, he smirked and gave a little 'could be worse' expression before he moved on.
Despite his reaction, I didn't find myself discouraged. Instead, I felt a fire light itself inside of me. Determination and motivation - wells I'd long thought were dried up - were no flooding with abundance.
Do you know how many instructors I'd had? Dozens. Nearing hundreds. Do you know how many of those instructors praised my God-given talent? My natural athleticism and strength? My reflexes? Every single one of them.
And I hated it.
Those people only ever praised me when they ran out of things to teach. When they thought I'd outgrown them as a student. At some point, I couldn't find any new teachers. They'd take one look at what I could do and say 'Anything I teach you now can only be used with Mana' or 'You're as good as a non-Warrior can ever be'.
But now--now there was someone who could see the lack of something in me! A place to improve! A teacher who had inexhaustible wisdom and advice to give.
I could almost feel my bones rattling in excitement. Excitement at the prospect of growth.
...I knew coming to Artrosia would help solve my problem. Thank God it had.
My own thoughts aside, the collection of the paper continued and before long, the collector of each column stood at the front of them, a stack of paper in hand. The priest once again spoke up, his smile still present, "Now that that's done, we can get onto the induction and introductions of Artrosia and the tutors you'll be having for the next year! Starting from the furthest column to the right, follow your tutor and leave - they'll take you where you need to go to!" he enthusiastic and joyful demeanor continued and just as he said, the furthest so-called tutor to the right gestured for the column to follow him before he began to walk off.
After that column left, and after waiting a few seconds, the next tutor and column left. Which meant in less than a minute, I was following the person who I'd now be calling my tutor.
A few lines of one hundred people had already left...yet there was no sign of them. I soon found out why when the massive tutor clicked his fingers and a portal opened up in front of him, with him walking through it a second later. Not one to question the works of the Otherworld, the people directly behind the tutor followed him - as did I.
Although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't somewhat worried it'd be a similar experience to what happened during the transfer. What can I say? Once bitten, twice shy - and I really didn't want to experience dimension transfer again.
At least I would have a year to prepare myself for the next time I'd use it.
Despite my worries, I barely even felt anything when I went through the portal and appeared inside a massive gymnasium that seemed both futuristic and ancient. The surrounding wasn't a building but instead a round structure that surrounded us and looked similar in appearance to the long-lost coliseum of Rome.
The only difference was that it looked well-maintained and it was made of a metal-rock fusion. Parts were metal while other parts were rock and looked as if they'd always been there, with some places having the rock fused with the ground.
Besides that, the ground was mainly sand, except for certain places which had solid metal mats that had different exercise equipment placed on top of them.
In the very center of the coliseum, there was an elevated platform - a combat platform.
Said platform had two stairways leading up to it, one on either side of the north and south of the circular platform.
"Line up in rows of twenty five! Be quick about it!" the massive man's voice truly boomed through the coliseum, the deep voice sounding like the crushing of stone as it impacted my eardrums. I almost felt like I was about to go deaf from the man's voice alone - he was extremely strong. I could just feel it.
And so could everyone else.
Which meant we all lined up as he asked, hands held at our sides and our attention solely focused on him.
He lifted a hand and gestured to himself, "The name's Kenny. Call me 'Mr. Kenny' or 'Sir'. Anything else and I'll introduce you to my fist, alright?" he asked in a more normal volume of speaking, but equally as threatening by the content of what he was saying. Everyone nodded and he nodded in contentment, "Right, I don't give a damn about your family or who your daddy is or who your mommy is--Here and now, all that matters is how strong you are, you hear me?" he asked and again, we all nodded. Some more hesitant than others, though.
Kenny looked over us - more specifically our clothes before he gestured to a few boxes that just appeared out of nowhere, "Get changed out of your clothes and into these training garments," some people seemed like they were prepared to complain to the bear-like man but that was stopped by his harsh tone the next second, "I don't care if you're a man, woman or anything in between. Just get changed into the bloody training clothes. Now!"
His shout spurred everyone into action, of course.
We all hurried over to the boxes, though we still approached in a calm manner. The same thought going through all of our heads regardless of who we all are individually:
Who knows what Kenny will do if we make a mess of some kind?
Grabbing into the box, I picked up one of the body suits and looked at it.
It was black in color and seemed to be a skintight one-piece suit. Parts of the suit were armored, however, and seemed to be padded with shock-absorbing foam - though the material itself seemed to be extremely tough and durable without losing any of it's flexibility, pliability or it's stretch. It would definitely work well as a training garment.
Walking off to the side, I began to strip. As did others. Some girls looked somewhat shy as they did so, but some others seemed unabashed by the stripping. The same went for the guys.
I was obviously of the latter - I wasn't very easily embarrassed when it came to my body.
Though I did catch some people looking at my body when I finally got my dress shirt off. And not because I was so ripped either. Everyone here, besides for a select few who came from Mage bloodlines, had an athletic build and were at least somewhat muscular or toned. Even if my conditioning was of a higher caliber, it wasn't enough of a sight for people to be taking glances for the third time.
What they were looking at then, were the scars that littered my upper body. And when I took off my dress pants, the scars that were spread across my upper and lower leg. I wasn't absolutely covered from head to toe in scars but I did have a noticeable amount of them.
No doubt because of the training my Warrior grandfather had put me through when I was younger.
Regardless, I still got dressed in the training uniform. It was very form-fitting, allowing it to show off the lines and definition of my muscles - though I will admit that it was given extra padding in certain areas to avoid leaving outlines of more personal aspects of a person.
Once everyone was dressed in these uniforms, people had stopped taking glances at me by this point and we were back to lining up in front of Kenny.
He looked over us before smiling a wild and excited smile.
"Let's get to some fighting, eh? I wanna see which one's I should pay attention to. Pick up your preferred weapon and the first two people can step up on the podium! Last person on the podium wins and gets the first dibs on entering the Obelisk's monster floors!" he seemed genuinely excited to watch us fight...and after hearing the reward, I was feeling quite excited about the fights myself.