Sierra sat below deck, leaned up against a pile of crates, sighing out loud as she awaited the boat to reach shore. She was still a bit iffy about what she was doing, joining Omen's Order. After all, she was known in the underworld as 'Sierra, The Honorable Assassin', needless to say joining Omen's Order was hardly honorable. But she didn't see another way to get back at Ugdual for what they had done to her, and it's not as if Omen's Order made a bad offer.
She still remembered when they contacted her, quite clearly too. It was bone chilling, to see a letter sitting on her bed in her secret hide away. A place that only she had knowledge of, or so she thought anyway. The letter coerced and flattered her with the kind and sympathetic words, but also terrified her due to how much information they had. Somehow, they knew nearly her entire life. From her hiding place, to the reason she was an assassin in the first place.
Sierra couldn't reject their offer despite her fears, it was too good to pass up. If she accepted their terms and helped them overthrow Ugdual, not only could she get revenge, but she could also bring her family name back to how it once was and do her father proud. For her father was the entire reason she was a warrior; following in his footsteps so to speak.
Her father was an Avenger, a profession of honor for a warrior. If you were too weak to fight someone who greatly wronged you or otherwise dishonored you, one could pay an avenger a very meager fee to challenge the perpetrator in a duel. Sierras father was one of the best, a proud warrior and a man of virtue that had never once lost a duel. But...
When Ugdual lawmakers outlawed the practice saying, 'Avengers are little more than brutes carrying out a public assassination', and arrested anyone still doing avenger work, her father and many others were forced into much more unpredictable professions that were even more dangerous than avenging. Sierras father, while a very capable warrior, only had experience against human opponents, and ended up dying to a beast half his level. Simply because he was trying to provide for his daughter.
Sierra was only 10 years old then and ended up a penniless street urchin with a serious grudge against Ugdual and its lawmakers. Growing up in the slums, mistreated and often taken advantage of, she saw plenty of battle in the backstreets and eventually ended up a criminal, but not an ordinary criminal. She earned her name as the Honorable Assassin by following in her father's footsteps, challenging her targets to an outright duel once she caught them alone.
Because of her strength and reputation in the underworld, it did make sense for her to be contacted by some sort of organization eventually. After all, she had reached level 15,000 a few months ago, which was no easy feat since most humans and other civilized races rarely make it past level 1,000 in their lifetime. Or so the public thought, in reality the majority of citizens were heavily misinformed.
Truthfully, reaching level 15,000 was actually the mark of becoming a warrior in the eyes of those who were 'in the know'. While it's true that the common person barely makes it past level 20, those who consistently saw combat would easily make it to level 1,000. However, that was usually the stopping point considering the systems 'balancing'.
One problem was seeing combat of the correct degree, since they system provided by the gods would punish those who hunted too far below or too far ahead. If you killed something that was more than 20 levels behind you, you would gain no experience. If you killed an opponent far above your level, the experience provided would make you unbalanced.
Speaking in efficiency, you get more rewards by going on a slow and steady path of training skills and leveling up your class and sub class alongside your actual level. Leveling up too quickly in one burst from a powerful opponent would only put you ahead at a superficial level. Sure, you would be a higher level, but you wouldn't have the stats or actual combat experience to match.
The other problem was that seeing the necessary amount of combat was difficult for average people, especially humans, who don't live very long compared to other races that did. Humans were actually quite disadvantaged by the system the gods created, at least as warriors.
For instance, take their point values regarding stats. 1 point of power for an orc was the same as 10 points for a human, but 1 point of intellect for a human was equal to 25 points for an orc. It was different for all races though, but humans made the most of it. There were exceptions though, such as your stat gain being affected by your class and what races were in your bloodline. Special individuals existed too though, Sierra had 89,000 points in strength herself, but gained more output per point than other warriors, having almost double the strength her points suggested.
Sierra couldn't help but wonder if that was the main reason they invited her, if it was just for her strength as an ally, or if they truly wanted to help. But it didn't really matter to her as long as she got revenge anyways.
Thud!
The boat rocked for a moment, having finally hit the forsaken shore of the abandoned demon continent. Sierra was less than excited to be here for her 'test' but couldn't really complain. IF one wanted to be somewhere private, the demon continent was the best place.
"Madame Sierra, we've arrived. I implore you to gather your things, as we will be immediately going to the testing grounds." said a hooded figure, poking their head into the cargo hold. It was one of the many emissaries that escorted her to the continent, kind enough people in her opinion, although pushy.
"Sure sure..." Sierra said, gathering her knapsack and axe, then promptly climbing out of the cargo hold and off the boat.
"This place is truly a wasteland" she said looking around, dumbfounded at her barren surroundings. The only light for miles was some torches in the distance, and the overcasting soft blue light of the moon.
Sierra followed the emissaries as they walked in a single file line down a path until reaching the distant torches previously mentioned. She whistled, looking at the battle ground before her. Omen's order had prepared a smooth and elevated, 40 by 40 kaurt area that was lined with torches. Across the way on the other end of the platform was a tall and dark armored figure with a large spear held at their side, back turned to her as they spoke quietly with a few people in robes similar to the emissaries that brought her here.
"So, I'm guessing my entrance test is to defeat the big fellow over there? Do I lob his head off or is it just a duel?" Sierra asked a nearby emissary, lazily pointing her axe at her would be opponent.
She wasn't particularly worried about an entry duel, she was plenty strong after all, and if this was the only way to join, then so be it. However, rather than actually answering her question, the emissary and their comrades started snickering, as if she had said something ridiculous.
"Heh...Hehe...if you defeated him, it would be a miracle and tragedy in one. No, to defeat him is not your test, rather to land a single blow upon him." the main emissary, an elderly goblin, said.
"Just one blow!? What kind of pushover do you think I am?" Sierra sneered at the goblin, her face scrunching up with annoyance as her pride was struck.
"I won't bother trying to argue, simply step into the battle grounds and face your opponent. You'll understand." The elderly emissary said, gesturing to the stairs up to the platform.
Sierra scoffed and stomped angrily to the center of the stage, tapping her foot impatiently and grinding her teeth. Just what kind of loser did they think she was that she wouldn't be able to land a single blow. Even if this warrior across the way was leagues above her, she would still land a few good hits no matter who her opponent was.
After another minute or so, the tall, spear wielding man made his way up the steps, slowly walking to the center of the stage to meet. with Sierra. At first Sierra was relieved that they could start soon and get it over with but...that changed as he approached, something was off. Her skin was crawling and hairs standing on end as she watched the massive man stride over with completely silent steps. Within another moment, the man was standing Infront of her, looming over her with his enormous size. His eyes glowing with a dull blue color from behind the eye slits in his helmet as he stared down upon her.
"I-I am Sierra, Honorable Assassin. Warrior by t-trade and I s-shall be y-your opponent..." she said, shivering a little as she slowly looked up at him, fully taking in the sight of his blood-stained scale armor. Gulping as she tried to figure out what this strange feeling of dread crawling up her spine was, who was this man to inflict this strange feeling over her with just their presence.
The man grunted softly, before speaking in a gravely, aged voice.
"I am Gorum, The Unstoppable. Warrior by trade, and I shall be your opponent and evaluator tonight. Fight as if you are going to die, it is the only way you will survive." he said, his commandeering voice putting a pressure in the air so heavy it could almost be seen.
In that moment, Sierras heart dropped.