Progression of a Magic Fighter Ch. 1

Ch. 1: Punch Things with Magic

<Are you good enough, Gamer?>

Jor stared at the blue game message floating in front of his face. Beneath his feet was an ancient gray stone carved with many runes. The runes glowed with myriad colors.

Mana currents blew freely around the chamber, billowing the robes of the eight sovereign apostles surrounding Jor. Each apostle wore a hood that covered their faces, but Jor could feel their menacing gazes. It didn’t help that one apostle could rip through two dozen mundane men. Or more.

Am I good enough? Jor wondered.

That was a hell of a question. It spoke to the Jor as he was now. And to the murky memories of his past life.

Jor stood as a short person with a dark complexion and sharp face. He had defined shoulders and a swimmer’s back to offset his slimness. While his platinum dreadlocks and blue eyes were eye-catching, his calloused hands and scarred knuckles said plenty about his sixteen years surviving in the world of Watari.

But his rough upbringing didn’t reveal his unique nature. He was originally from another world called Earth. And he’d once lived a life of a thrill-seeking prized fighter. An active martial artist of glory, money, and stunts.

He half believed himself to be delusional. But the memories persisted. He knew things he shouldn’t.

“You can always back away, mundane one,” an apostle said from behind Jor. “Many have set their feet on the sacred stone and realized their unworthiness. Even if you aren’t good enough, you will have a place to serve in the Sovereign Empire.”

Screw the empire! A corner of Jor’s mouth twitched. He smoothen his expression before speaking. “Pardon my hesitation, mighty one. I’m merely enjoying the moment. I’ve worked long and hard for this chance.”

And you guys don’t have a return policy for all the gold you snatched from me.

Jor wanted to cry at the loss of his life savings. He’d been working since he was six to save up that sum.

Ten years! Gone!

Ten years of sacrifice. All for this one moment with the ascension stone.

So the question <Are you good enough, Gamer?> sparked a number of intense reactions inside of Jor.

Uncertainty. Doubt.

Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety.

The negative feelings made his chest feel thorny and weak. But they didn’t last. Deeper emotions punched through.

Eagerness. Exhilaration. Willfulness.

And Acceptance.

“Yeah, I’m good enough.”

<Are you prepared for the next challenge, Gamer?>

Jor knew from his research the Game always asked twice. Other challengers would sometimes back out when asked a second time.

Without doing anything, the Game won by getting in your head and filling it with doubt, an insidious poison. Men who doubted themselves a lot would end up dead or broken.

Jor refused to doubt himself.

“Fuck it, man!” Jor swung his arms wide and grinned ear-to-ear. “Let’s do this thing!”

He laughed as the apostles shifted around in annoyance. They were a prudish and strict group, but they stayed put as the magic kicked up a notch.

<Very well.>

Jor’s platinum dreadlocks whipped around even more. Magic washed over him like a tsunami. It thrummed outside and inside his body violently.

His laughter turned into screaming.

The brutal mana surge tossed him around like driftwood. His view of the chamber and apostles disappeared. Everything in Jor’s vision became endless mana particles and unreadable runes twisting in a godly vortex.

He was a single speck caught in a storm. A fleeting mortal soul lost to the whims of the cunning and cruel Game, the ultimate governor of life.

Then all became still and sane again.

Jor found himself lying belly down on soft moist earth. He clawed through it with his fingers and pushed up. But not all the way. On hands and knees, Jor calmed his thumping heart and assessed the situation.

Green forest. Moist earth.

A smattering of foliage covered a small opening where he knelt. Brambles and shrubbery surrounded him.

It all smelled real. Verdant, alive, and fresh.

The tweeting birds sounded natural, too.

Some scholars of the Game questioned the ascension stone locations. Were they real? Were they illusions? Or were they other worlds? Maybe the insides of a mysterious dungeon?

As for the challenges, each was different but tailored to the individual. From Jor’s research, he knew the way from Mundane Rank to Adept Rank was to face his own strength.

At the very least, he wasn’t naked. He was still wearing his old shirt and trousers. Nothing scary came out to attack him just yet. But the Game didn’t leave him alone for long.

<Review your profile.>

Jor cracked a smile.

At long last, he’d get to see his own profile. Everyone had one. But mundane ones couldn’t see their own. Unless they reached this point.

“Profile,” he called out testingly.

A screen of blue and white flashed before his eyes. It was something only he could see, the runes becoming readable.

<>

Gamer: Jormungandr Sainte-Joyce

Rank: Mundane

Experience: Level 0

Life: 7

Body: 8

Magic: 9

Focus: 16

Attributes: <Karmic Rebirth>, <Blood of War and Peace>, <Battle Sense>, <Water Sorcery>.

<>

Jor held in the shout that wanted to come out. He’d dreamed of this for a while.

Swiping his tongue over his dried lips, he willed for his attributes to explain themselves. The Game answered his request. Jor read quickly, knowing his time to get situated was waning.

<Karmic Rebirth - Mundane - You are a rare soul who gets to experience two lives, carrying the wisdom of one to another. You gain an additional 25% to your Focus.>

So, it’s true, I’m really an older soul than my current body. Jor wondered if there were more people like him.

That was a huge advantage to have while young. It explained why he worked so hard and trained himself as if he was the active man from his past life.

Jor glanced at his focus stat. The math came easy, summing up to 20. That explained why he always stayed attentive as a mundane, rarely letting distractions slow him.

It made him different compared to other boys of his coastal town. An outcast. But a focused outcast.

<Blood of War and Peace - Mundane - Your father is of the Icerath People, an aggressive human group. But your mother is of the Izlandee People, a friendly human group. You gain an additional 20% to your Body when transitioning between offense and defense.>

Jor breathed deeply, letting his feelings pass through him and staying focused. This was not the time to think about his ancestry.

“Okay, so that gap between offense and defense and vice-versa has me at 10 for Body.”

That would be useful. Depending on how Jor leveraged it, he might be his most dangerous in that transitional gap.

<The challenge will start soon.>

Jor felt his heart squeeze with anxiety. He breezed through the next Attributes, leaning hard on his focus stat. He could still comprehend deeply even while in a rush.

Truly, having high focus was a cheat.

<Battle Sense - Mundane - You have an abnormal awareness of your surroundings when in battle. You gain an additional 10% to your Focus while battling.>

Man, this is insane. This confirms so much for me. Other than working hard as a laborer, Jor had gotten into a lot of scraps in his current life. His mind always felt sharper while fighting.

Thanks to his research, he knew additional percentages were indeed additive. Combining the effects of <Karmic Rebirth> and <Battle Sense> gave an additional 35% to his natural 16 Focus. That summed up to 21.6 Focus while fighting.

That was insane for a Mundane Rank to have. The average for a mundane human was 10 in any stat. Sometimes less. Sometimes more.

Though, that knowledge depended on if Jor’s sources were reliable. Either way, Jor’s focus was beyond the average mundane.

Now for the last attribute.

<Water Sorcery - Mundane - Your innate magic is infused with traces of water mana. You can conjure/control mundane and magical water. You gain an additional 10% to your Magic in a watery area. You suffer a 5% reduction to your Magic in a very dry area.>

Jor wanted to shout in rejoice. For a long while, he had a special association with water. He was the fastest swimmer among the boys he grew up around.

There had been recent situations where water acted weird around him, too. But he’d always assumed the strangeness came from nearby mighty ones, the Game, or the world itself.

No wonder I’m always covered in water soon as I start training. I thought I had an overproduction of sweat, but I was really conjuring water because of <Water Sorcery>.

Jor felt ashamed he didn’t figure this out earlier. Though, he had no memories of his sorcery in his early years on Watari.

Nonetheless, he would have to make up for the missed sorcery practice ASAP.

<It’s time to face your challenge, Gamer.>

“Whew, right in the nick of time,” Jor said, standing fully. That was when he noticed a silver bell hanging from a pole beside him. It hadn’t been there before.

<Life is hard. It can crush the weak and strong alike. But if death is not achieved, life can still be lived. Unless you quit.>

Jor nodded with the blue words hovering in front of him. It was known for the Game to delve into philosophy. Or a mockery of such.

<Challenge: Reach the arena in the middle of the woods and win the contest. You may die and retry as many times as needed. This will only end with victory. Or with the ringing of the bell, signaling defeat. Then you can return back home.>

“You’re joking,” Jor said.

The Game didn’t respond. The magic words faded from view but remained in Jor’s memory. He could review them any time like a system log.

Jor looked at the silver bell, the squarish clapper, and the dangling piece of rope. The meaning settled into his soul.

This was a no-death challenge. It was an uncommon circumstance, but a known one.

With that being the case, the challenge had to be truly hard. Maybe even impossible for a mundane person.

I would be branded a loser if I came back alive without ascending. And the Game would reject him if he tried to ascend again. He would be stuck at the Mundane Rank forever.

Jor clenched his jaw. He was here to win the challenge and ascend. The bell was a mockery of what he wanted.

He turned his back on it and listened to his environment. No strange sounds came from nearby. Just to be sure, Jor spent a few hours patrolling the area. He kept the bell in view as his center of security.

The Game was said to have two phases while in a combative challenge. The warm up phase and the serious phase. Minor enemies would usually reveal themselves during the warm up phase. Jor found no enemies nearby and returned to the small opening with the bell.

“Time to practice magic,” Jor said to himself.

Food was not an issue. He found some berries, mushrooms, and nuts that were edible. And he was his own source of water.

Focused, Jor trained, letting day and night pass. He slept in the high branches of a tree. He ate and hydrated in between practice sessions while resting up.

No matter how long it took, Jor practiced alone to get a better grip of <Water Sorcery>. He made some interesting discoveries.

Attributes were normally passive abilities. Using <Water Sorcery> actively was like finishing a set of pushups and eking out a few more reps. Or studying for an exam while at the limit of your mental capacity.

It was not a big issue for small stuff. Like squeezing out drinkable water from his fist.

But anything more complex? That required intense focus for a newbie. It was almost overwhelming, taxing to the mind and body.

The first part was knowing there was mana inside and outside of his body.

Jor had studied this before. He’d eavesdropped on passing mighty ones talking about mana control techniques.

It was like contracting and extending a spiritual muscle.

Part physical. Part mental. All immaterial.

An unpracticed person like Jor had to struggle to move mana to his whims. But his abnormal focus and physical practices helped him achieve a few steps toward mastery.

How? By shadow boxing. It was one of his favorite activities from his past life and current one.

He punched and kicked. He bobbed, weaved, and leaned. Sometimes he imagined an opponent. Sometimes he focused on a strike or move to perfect his technique. He did it all while dripping wet and trying to manipulate water for an extraordinary effect.

He mostly failed. And exhausted himself a lot. But he kept trying after every rest period.

Jor didn’t quit no matter what.

After five days and nights of obsessed practice, Jor whipped around a magic kick. From the tip of his foot flung a condensed water crescent that was two feet wide.

It flew solidly for three feet. Then it splattered like normal water. However, the crescent maintained magical integrity long enough to damage a targeted tree.

“No way,” Jor said. “No way, no way. Did I do that?”

Carried by giddy excitement, Jor staggered toward the wounded tree. His head was throbbing, and his body was sore. Using magic might be spiritual, but it affected his mortal flesh and thinkpan a lot.

Ignoring the fatigue, Jor traced his fingers over the line carved into the thick trunk of an adult tree. The cut was three inches deep in the middle.

“That’s enough to behead a mundane man,” Jor said with shaky amazement.

He staggered backward, tired but thrilled. His eyes shone with glee. His hard work was bearing fruit. His sacrifice was going to be worth it. He just needed some more time.

Jor rested, got back up, and attempted another magic blow. But this time with his fist.

Water formed and condensed around his knuckles. It glowed like sunlight reflecting off the sea’s surface.

He punched the tree with magic. The water burst with a whopping blast.

Shocked, Jor didn’t prepare for the recoil and fell back hard. He sat still and caught his breath, feeling woozy. Then he looked up at the chewed up dent in the tree trunk. It looked like a ridgy mallet had struck with herculean force.

“Oh. My. Goodness.” Jor blinked. “I didn’t know water can be badass.”

Jor rested. He trained some more. The poor tree was steadily beaten and carved into splinters until Jor felled it and nearly crushed himself. Then he moved on to another tree.

Days passed. The woods remained the same except for the fallen trees. Sunlight dappled between the canopies. Birds tweeted.

When night came, an entire universe displayed its starlit glory. A single moon traveled from horizon to horizon before the sun revealed itself again.

Nothing changed except for the fallen timber. Not the weather. Not the views. Not the birds.

But Jor changed.

He gained a level.

<Your Experience progresses, Gamer. You’ve leveled up from 0 to 1.>

<You’ve gained +2 Body, +2 Magic, +2 Focus.>

Jor stopped his morning warm up of pushups, crunches, and jumping squats. He hummed in delight as he felt the changes.

His flesh flushed with warmth, his muscles and bones becoming greater. His mana grew denser from inside and outside his body. And his mind sharpened, scarily so.

“Damn, I don’t get anything for my life stat.”

Sometimes, the Game would reward you for training. However, the life stat would only grow when faced with true peril. It was a scary proposition to face danger head on to grow a stat. But it was the only way.

Who the hell wants to be a squishy Gamer?

The timing of the level up was perfect. Jor was hitting a wall in his progression. There was no more progress to be found with further training.

Thankfully, he was now attuned with water magic. With each breath, his mana flowed in a cool and steady cycle. Inside and outside of his body. It was like the rivers and oceans of Watari, always flowing to carry and cleanse.

He was as prepared as he was going to be. “Let’s do this.”

Under the rising sun, a bold man of dark skin and platinum dreadlocks moved forward to face his destiny. A simple forest trail led him further and further away from the taunting silver bell.

It was time to prove he was more than good enough. It was time to punch more things with magic.

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((Author Note: Please let me know your thoughts about this first chapter. Does it make you want to read more?))