Chapter 2: World Force

I guess running was an option and I really thought about it. But the moment I heard the sharp hiss of polished metal sliding from its sheath, I reconsidered.

"Who are you?" The knight leveled his blade at me. And while I'd never had a sword pointed at me before, I was pretty sure any distance was too close.

"P—P—Peter?" My voice shook, turning my name into a question, like I wasn't sure if it was mine or his.

I feel like if you asked me what one plus one was right now, my answer would be 'two?'

"Why are you here, recruit?"

Recruit? "I'm not in the military. But thanks for your service!"

"Wha?" He looked at me oddly, sword still pointed at me, "Yo—you're welcome?"

"I—" My eyes stayed locked on the glinting steel, which definitely wasn't a prop. I raised my hands in surrender. "Can you, uh… put that down?"

The knight studied me through the slits of his leather helm, then thankfully, lowered his sword. "Answer. Why are you here?"

"I just, uhhh…" My heartbeat pounded in my ears like a war drum. "I just got here."

"Just?" His shoulders relaxed slightly. "Did you get lost? Come this way?"

Maybe wearing this outfit wasn't such a bad idea. If he thought I was a recruit, not an intruder, I'd take it. Running wasn't exactly off the table, but I wasn't betting on my odds against a guy with a sword. So, I followed, not knowing what I was walking into.

"I know you're new," he called over his shoulder, his tone suddenly more casual. "But try not to goof around too much. Trust me, getting in trouble with the serge is a terrible idea."

I nodded like I knew exactly what that meant.

Recruit… Serge? Yeah, this was sounding less and less like something I wanted to be a part of. But at least his tone shift took the edge off my panic, if only slightly.

Still… I wasn't entirely convinced I wasn't losing my mind.

"Ow!"

The guard turned as I rubbed the spot on my arm where I'd pinched myself.

"What's wrong?"

"N—Nothing, sorry."

He gave me a weird look but kept walking. "Keep up."

Eventually, we reached a narrow spiral staircase. He stopped.

"Head up. It's the first room on the left. Don't wander."

"Got it."

Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the corridor.

Up it is.

I started climbing, step after step, higher and higher until... *BOOM!*

I jumped as an explosion rattled the stone, shaking dust and bits of rubble loose. Dirt rained into my hair.

I ran a shaky hand through it, brushing off the debris as I reached the top, still rattled from whatever that was. My hands were clammy, my curiosity battling my caution.

Another corridor, narrow, leading to an open archway on the left.

I crept forward and peeked inside.

"That," a booming voice declared, reverberating through the small chamber, "is what you can hope to accomplish in the future."

A group of teenagers stood in stiff attention, eyes locked on a massive scorch mark seared into the wall.

Their expressions ranged from awe to outright terror.

I froze, eyes locked on the authority figure.

The man at the front of the room wasn't dressed in plate like the knight from before. Full leathers instead of the plate armor. But the way he carried himself? The air of command? Yeah, definitely the 'serge'.

Go in? Wait? Escape?

My brain scrambled for a plan. Any plan. But in the end, my feet decided for me.

Straightening my posture, I strolled past with an attitude that screamed 'I belong here'.

I prayed no one would notice me, but of course, they did.

"You!"

Nope. Not me. Definitely not me.

"STOP!"

Hurried footsteps and a firm grip on my shoulder.

The man turned me around, eyes scanning me like a misplaced puzzle piece. Sizing me up.

"Name?"

"Peter, uhhhh, sir." Panicking again.

Are you a new recruit?

My mind flailed between my options for lies. 'Yes, I'm new!' or 'Nope, I belong here!'

Think… Think… Forget it.

"Yes, sir."

He nodded, motioning toward the group. "Good. You're just in time."

Well… okay then. Resisting felt unwise, so I shuffled forward, eyes darting between the assembled teens. They all looked like they had a purpose. A direction. Like they actually knew what they were doing.

Meanwhile, I was just trying not to hyperventilate.

"Stand there."

He pointed to an empty spot next to a girl, and I moved quickly, mimicking the stiff posture of the others. Act like you belong. Act like you belong.

The sergeant stepped forward, his presence filling the room.

"Apologies. Let's continue." His voice carried the weight of a hammer. "Now that you know what your future can hold, let's get to measuring."

Measuring? Measuring what?

"You should all be old enough to have gained a blessing."

He pulled out a large white sphere, something green swirling inside. I couldn't make out the details from this distance.

"Open your status when I call you forward."

Status? Status of what?

Then, with his other hand, he drew a sharp dagger.

"I will cut your hand," he stated, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. "Afterward, place your palm on the orb."

He gestured with the sphere, completely unbothered by the fact that he was about to slice a bunch of teenagers.

He approached the first boy stepping forward, and the kid extended his hand without hesitation. I admired the bravery.

I also paled as the blade slashed cleanly across his palm.

"Sy—"

I couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

Time slowed.

The sergeant moved from one recruit to the next, getting closer and closer. Closer.

I strained to hear what they were saying.

"System."

That word hit me like a jolt of electricity.

System? What kind of system?

My palms grew clammy. What happens when he gets to me? Am I different? Do I have a blessing? I don't know anything about a system.

The girl in front of me stepped forward, visibly shivering.

"Status," she murmured, voice light and unwilling.

A pause.

"I see. No system yet." The tester's tone was dismissive. "Stand over there, Late Bloomer."

Her head lowered in shame, brown hair bouncing lightly as she walked to the side, alone.

But me? My spirits soared.

If that orb did nothing when I touched it maybe I'd just be a Late Bloomer.

Time passed quicker than I expected after my lingering dread eased a bit. I was face to face with the tall man before I knew it. My hands refused to move. Turns out, it's really hard to voluntarily offer up your palm when you know someone's about to cut it open.

"Hand."

I swallowed hard and shakily lifted my right palm.

The blade slashed across my skin. Sharp sting. A brief flash of pain. My eyes stinging from the pain. Only stinging... nothing else.

I pressed my hand against the white orb.

The sergeant watched.

"Well?" he asked, expectant.

Oh. Right. I have to say it. I whispered, "System."

Nothing.

Okay. No big deal. Just say it louder. More confidence. Maybe it's like voice recognition?

I straightened slightly, puffed out my chest, and cleared my throat. "Status!"

Still. Absolutely nothing.

And now… now everyone was staring. A few whispers and a lot of staring.

My cheeks burned. I wanted to melt into the floor.

The sergeant paused mid-step, glanced at me, then sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Another one," he muttered under his breath. "Stand over there."

He pointed next to the girl from before, and I obeyed. She spared me a quick glance with what I could only imagine was pity but nothing more.

Since I was last, the man walked back to the front and clapped his hands sharply, the sound cracking through the room.

"Please come in!"

From the archway, four figures stepped inside.

"These will be your instructors," the sergeant barked, gesturing to each in turn.

The atmosphere shifted the moment they entered. Something about them felt… heavy. Their presence alone commanded attention.

He pointed to a gentle-looking older woman, her eyes sharp enough to cut glass. "For blessings in the healing category, go with her."

Next was a woman bent with age, clutching a staff, her expression brimming with wisdom. "For magic-related blessings, follow her."

The third was a middle-aged man, a thin scabbard at his side. "Warriors, with him."

And finally, the one who towered over everyone else. Broad, built like a fortress, his sheer size making even the sergeant look small. "For defensive blessings, follow him."

He passed a glance between me and the girl. "You two go with the defenders. Dismissed!"

The second he spoke, the room erupted. The others rushed to their respective instructors, forming into something loosely resembling organized lines.

The girl and I moved together, taking our place at the very back of the defender group.

One by one, each line disappeared into the corridors ahead. The defenders went last, filing through a maze of stone hallways until we reached a massive room.

A… gym?

Well, a medieval version of one. Weights, training dummies, and a huge matted section in the center, set up like a sparring arena. No machines, obviously.

The tank of an instructor turned to face us. "We will be training here today. Find a partner. I'll be showing some drills. We should be able to raise your stats. Wait in the center."

Stats? Systems? Blessings?

No. No way. That's impo—but… then again, my entire day had been one impossible event after another.

He turned to us as the others scrambled into pairs, reaching into a satchel at his side. "Here. Read this. I'll give you some time to cover the basics, then join the others."

He handed us a book. Which… yeah. I couldn't read a single word of it. I blinked at the pages, my brain refusing to process the unfamiliar script. At least they spoke my language, but reading? That was apparently a different problem.

The girl beside me flipped through the pages quickly, then let out a sigh. "Nothing new," she muttered.

Trying to ignore my slowly rising panic, I tapped her shoulder lightly.

"Hey, I'm Peter. Do you—can you tell me what this says?"

She turned slightly, giving me a sidelong glance that was equal parts confusion and mild disbelief before her expression shifted into something else.

Excitement.

"Fundamentals of World Force: Cultivation and the Nexus."