**CLANK**

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  Izzy ducked and stepped to the side, dodging the sword swing attempting to split her in two as it harmlessly bounced off of the hard stone ground, before unleashing [Flurry Strikes] on the skeleton warrior’s exposed side.

  The hit startled it forward a step, but it wasn’t fazed as it turned with its body slashing at Izzy’s head in an attempt to decapitate her, but was interrupted mid-swing by a fireball hitting it across the back, staggering it.

  Izzy took advantage of the opening, positioning herself inside the skeleton’s guard before landing a [Devastating Strike] to its wide open ribcage.

  A crack sounded across the narrow cave as the open palm strike caved in the skeleton’s chest, causing it to drop dead in a heap of bones.

  You have defeated Azar Skeleton Warrior (level 10)

  Izzy scanned the tunnel for any more enemies before exhaling and dusting herself off when she spotted none. The cave was widening, which meant they were almost at the boss room. So far everything had gone as well as one would’ve hoped. The dungeon wasn’t long and only had two mob types, making it a fairly straightforward one. Her party members were also extremely competent, which made it even less of a challenge. At this rate, they should be done with the boss before sundown, leaving them with nothing to do until tomorrow’s dungeon.

  She was probably going to suggest spending the night in Hedar, maybe check in on Jackson and his progress.

  She had hoped he would’ve joined her this time around, she had even asked him to, but he was adamant about being a mage of some kind. And while she believed he would be able to do it in time, the longer it took, the worse it was gonna be for him. He was starting to fall seriously behind, and she worried he might not find people to party with, at least not good ones.

  Not many waited this long before getting started, and those who did didn’t really inspire confidence. Most just expected someone powerful to join and do all the heavy lifting for them, and they never seemed to understand that that wasn’t really a thing in the system. You had to contribute to a fight in order to gain any experience, and she was slowly reaching the point where Jackson wouldn’t be able to join her anymore.

  It’s all because those arrogant bastards calling themselves trainers couldn’t see past their own fragile egos and self-interest and refused to help him become a mage, she cursed in her head.

  She didn’t know what she could do to help her friend. They weren’t really in any position to make demands, so instead, she took her anger out on any and every monster she could get her hands on, which resulted in her being one of the highest leveled people from Earth in the city, level 10.

  Jackson had always wanted to be a mage. She knew that, and she didn’t fault him for it. It was his go to in every game he had ever played. She also knew that once he set his mind on something, it was only a matter of time.

  He had assured her the other day in the library that he was almost done, but he had also done so before, claiming that it wouldn’t take more than a couple of days to unlock his class, and yet here they were.

  Not being able to help pained her, but she trusted her friend and would support him in whatever way she could. Doing something right was better than half-assing it for a quicker start, this was real life after all, which made it even doubly so. She just hoped it would be sooner rather than later, or he would be too far behind for her to assist.

  Matt, on the other hand, was a very different story. After days of asking around, she finally got her answer. A drunk, loose-lipped guard had let out that if he wasn’t on Hedar, the designated desert environment planet for Earth’s tutorial, then he was either a 'lucky bastard, or a very unlucky bastard.'

  Being a lucky bastard meant he had been chosen by name to attend the tutorial on a specific planet, which meant higher ups knew who he was, which was generally a good thing.

  However, being a very unlucky bastard meant he was also chosen by name, but to not attend any tutorial, which either made him monster food at best if he died right away, or a target for endless assassination attempts at worst, if he somehow survived.

  Both options pissed Izzy off. She didn’t know everything about Matt’s family, but she knew enough to realize that both options were equally as shit for her friend. They would either drag him to a specific tutorial to try to break him, or deny him entirely as punishment since you couldn’t really kill someone in a tutorial zone.

  How the Ashfields had managed to achieve that level of influence before the tutorial had even started, she had no idea. Nothing on Earth held any value to a multiversal empire like the Kanaz. Gaining their favor so quickly didn’t make sense.

  Getting rid of Matt also didn’t make sense. The cost would’ve been astronomical since she had no doubt that Matt’s starting stats would’ve been on the higher end. The Empire would’ve wanted him to join the tutorial since he was more likely to succeed.

  She hated not knowing, and she hated the scheming and how her hands were tied during the entire thing even more. She wasn’t nearly as powerful or as influential to make a difference. Using her family’s name, Valerius, had also yielded nothing. She had even gone as far as claiming to be an Ashfield herself, but none of the instructors seemed to know or care about either families, which once more begged the question: in a new system where your power and wealth on Earth meant nothing, how was Matt’s family able to pull this off?

  It was all speculation on her part, but there was no other reason for Matt to receive any special treatment, meaning it had to be his family pulling the strings. Nothing else made sense, and she was sure he had come to the same conclusion as her.

  She was concerned, even if Jackson seemed to believe that Matt would be fine. She believed in Matt, he was smart and resourceful, and getting back at those who wronged him would be a great motivator to stay alive. But now, with magic involved, if his family really wanted to break him, did he stand a chance?

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  It was a grim image, one she didn’t want to wallow in any further, shaking it out of her head before looking at the ever widening tunnel that led to the boss’s room, a single thought on her mind, If I can’t help him now, then I need to be powerful enough to when the time comes.

  On a less ominous note, Izzy had no idea what class Matt would pick. He was the polar opposite of Jackson in that he really disliked magic based classes and leaned more towards physical ones, whether ranged or melee, but he was also insanely talented at reading the flow of a battle, which would make him a top tier shot-caller. Picking something ranged to have a better view of the entire battlefield was probably the most likely scenario, which would result in her being their only close range fighter.

  She had guessed as much and was fine with that. The striker class she had picked fit her style extremely well, and she was improving steadily by the day. As long as she had her stock of potions, being the one taking most of the hits posed no issue. It also helped that it gave her more ammo to use against them, being on the front while they both hid in the back.

  It was something she could hardly wait for. The three of them tackling dungeons and exploring the post-system Earth filled her with excitement and made her count the days until the tutorial was over. It probably wasn’t the best attitude to have in a post-apocalyptic world, but she couldn’t help it.

  She had always liked fighting ever since she was a young girl. Her parents had always tried to prevent her from watching wrestling matches, signing her up and trying to involve her in less violent activities, like dancing or music, but she never enjoyed them. She did both try and succeed to varying degrees, but it was obvious to them that she wasn’t happy. Seeing her that way, along with some pleading, had managed to convince them to let her practice some karate for self-defense.

  The hope was that she’d hate the violent sport and distance herself from it after a few intense training sessions, but that was not what had happened, far from it.

  It was like she had finally found her calling. Every class was exciting, every practice the definition of joy, and every opponent a challenge to overcome. Seeing how happy she was, and hearing the raving comments from her trainers, her parents finally relented and let her do what she enjoyed most. She ended up practicing a few more martial arts ever since, with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu being her main focus. She had even participated in a few amateur tournaments, giving her great 1-on-1 experience.

  Her constant training was also the reason for her high stats. None of her stats had 10 points at the start, but she did have 8 in strength and nine in both agility and endurance, giving her high stamina, incredible speed and enough punching power to back it all up, combined with her gaming and martial arts background, it made her an extremely deadly fighter.

  The instructors had previously mentioned that Brammar, the interim leader of Earth, was keeping an eye on her with the intention of having her join up with other powerhouses from Earth to form a supergroup that could tackle the hardest dungeons and monsters.

  While it did sound fun and challenging, she was not happy to hear that. She didn’t know if Brammar had anything to do with Matt, but given his position, odds were he did, he was the interim leader after all. Add in how the instructors had treated Jackson, and it was obvious why she was in no mood to be their prized new pony.

  Which was how she ended up telling them, very politely mind you, that on Earth, there was this famous tower in France’s capital, Paris, called the Eiffel Tower. That they should go there, climb to the very top, and use it to fuck themselves, because if they thought she was going to listen to anything they said then they were even more delusional than she had thought.

  Apparently Brammar wasn’t pleased with her response, according to the instructors, at which point she told them that there were other buildings on Earth he could use if the Eiffel Tower wasn’t wide enough for him.

  “Fucking entitled dickhead,” Izzy spat. Thinking about those people, especially that Brammar guy, always put her in a bad mood.

  “Who did what this time?” Zaher, the party scout, asked, a smile plastered on his face as he approached her.

  Zaher was… Zaher. Olive skin, mid twenties, 5’11, which put him a full head taller than her, short black hair, brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed short beard. Add in his broad shoulders, incredibly toned body and good facial features, and you end up with a good looking guy. His carefree attitude and willingness to be the butt of the joke made people see past all of that, sometimes not even seeing it at all, yet when the time for jokes was over, it was like a switch would flip inside of him. The carefree attitude would go, the jokes would stop, and all you’re left with was a calm, calculating man who was able to make accurate decisions with the snap of a finger.

  A lot of it could be explained by his previous occupation. Zaher had been part of the Egyptian army’s special forces, El-Sa’ka, which translated to thunderbolts, and it showed. His movements were fluid, he carried himself with confidence, and never flinched in battle. It was obvious from a glance that it wasn’t just training, but actual combat experience, which was both terrifying and a very useful trait to have. Many would flinch or panic under pressure or in stressful situations. And while it was understandable, it was also the cause of most injuries and even deaths, all of which were needless and easily avoidable. Being composed was important, even more so than stats sometimes.

  “Ah, I bet it was your shite aim. Blind fecks who can’t hit the broad side of a barn are, as she said, dickheads,” Evelyn, or Evie, teased the scout.

  Evie was the mage of the group and had been on vacation in Hurghada when the integration had happened, same as Izzy. She was in her early twenties and slightly taller than Izzy. She had pale white skin, blue eyes, and curled, long red hair. Fair to say, she was absolutely stunning, and with an awesome personality to boot. She didn’t take shit from anybody, and was fun to hang around with, which was why they got along well. She also loved to joke and mess around, which was why Zaher and her got along like a house on fire.

  “Ouch, your words hurt more than the sword,” Zaher said teasingly while dramatically rubbing at his perfectly healed forearm where he had blocked a sword strike aimed for Evie.

  “Alright, we get it. You two like each other. Tone it down or find a room,” Sedky, the warrior in their group, interjected.

  He was the fourth and final member of their party. A tall guy, at least 6’5. His body wasn’t as toned as Zaher’s, but it was obvious that he took care of himself. He had very short hair and no facial hair whatsoever. Apparently, he was still used to the army’s daily routine, where they weren’t allowed to have long hair nor any facial hair.

  He had been an infantryman in the Egyptian army and took pride in the daily routines ingrained in them, waking up early, shaving, working out, and eating meals at a specific time. And even though their bodies needed less sleep, he still attempted to fall asleep every day at 9, usually with the result of him waking up a few hours later and not being able to sleep again.

  His personality was almost the exact opposite of their resident jokers. He didn’t mess around much, a matter-of-fact guy through and through, but also not too serious nor a killjoy. He just treated dungeons and the system the way they should be treated, like death was lurking on every corner, which was a good attitude for longevity’s sake.

  “Everything okay, Izzy?” Sedky asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. Was just thinking of Brammar and how much I’d like the next chest I cave in to be his,” Izzy answered a little too coldly, savoring the thought as she did. While they all had their differences, they were easily in agreement when it came to one thing. Shady things were happening, and Brammar, as the interim leader, was at the center of it all.

  “That’s the spirit! A few thousand more dungeons and you should be good to go,” Zaher joked, patting her on the shoulder.

  “It’s okay, I can always practice on you. That should shorten it by at least a few hundred, don’t you think?” Izzy joked back, a terrifying smile on her face.

  “Aaaaand that’s my cue to scout ahead,” Zaher responded, removing his hand and taking a few wary steps back and towards the widening tunnel before disappearing into the shadows.

  Izzy hadn’t known them for long, but she enjoyed their company. They seemed like good people. They knew when to have fun and joke around, and when to turn serious, they were very good at their classes, and most importantly, they always watched each other’s backs. You couldn’t really ask for more from a party.

  “Let’s go. We should be close now,” Sedky motioned with his hand as he led the way towards, what would undoubtedly be, the boss.

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