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Amy

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One ride in a carriage pulled by a giant bug later, I walk into the courtyard in front of a massive church. And I mean massive, like megachurch sized. How many people they need to fit in this thing? 

I decide to see if Mr. Knight has brains as well as looks. 

“Sir Porter, why’s the church so huge?” See that? I called him Sir. You do call knights sir, right?

The knight coughs. “Please just call me Porter, my Lady. And to answer your question, the Church of the Eight is so large because it holds the believers, priests, and materials of all eight of the gods.” His tone is still dead, maybe he has nerve damage. Or trauma.

I nod. It’s crazy all eight churches get along well enough to share a building. “Porter, why don’t they kill each other more? That’s how things went in my world.” Porter gives me a dead stare, but his eyes have a surprised light in them. How can I tell that? 

“Well, most of the gods have no interest in conflict of that nature, and the one who does would be outnumbered enough that they just refrain.” 

He knows his stuff. So the gods here are just chill, basically. That’s neat, I guess. 

“The Pope of the church is appointed from one of the eight churches to rule the entirety. They go through the gods, from eldest to youngest, then repeat. The Pope is a lifetime appointment.” 

Alright, more than I needed, but thanks.

“Wait, wouldn’t the next church in line just kill the Pope, then?” I ask.

Porter shakes his head. “The eight gods give each Pope a combined blessing that makes any attempts on his life fail. Poison ends up expired, assassins have heart attacks en route, that kind of thing.” 

Wow, that’s pretty neat. 

We walk through the open front doors, which are easily taller than most Earth houses. The hall inside is taller than that by a dozen meters. Massive columns hold up the distant ceiling. I’m expecting clouds on the inside at this rate. 

Porter herds me into the line for nobles. We wait our turn and eventually get taken back behind the counter. The secretary leads me and the knight into a long hallway. Surprisingly the passage was just to get us to another room, which has what shockingly looks like a massive computer tower. Me and Mr. Knight sit in some provided chairs and wait for the doc- I mean, priest, to arrive. 

We don’t wait long, a tall as hell guy walks in wearing a toga. He looks at the both of us with a fake-ass smile. This man would’ve been a car salesman on Earth. 

“Alright!” He picks up a paper the secretary left in the room. “So you are… Amy Kezmark, and you’re here for a first time scan. You’re being funded by…” Woah, did he just turn gray? Is he alright? 

The now corpse-looking man looks between me and Porter. “You’re here so you can be employed by the Count?” I nod, which makes him flinch. What’s his problem? “Let’s get this over with.” 

He walks over to the machine, gives it a kick to get it humming, and picks up a tablet. Why is this tech here? Everything seems to be medieval otherwise. I mean, I guess there were ceiling lights, but I figured that was magic. 

He moves towards me and holds out the tablet.

“Put your hand on here.” 

I follow his instructions and place my hand against the glass of the tablet. Pins and needles spread over my hand. Eventually a light flashes green, followed by a beam of blue light. The light slowly widens from a line to a rectangle. Then words quickly pop in.

 

That’s all good and normal, probably. Not that I have any kind of reference for that. The color returns to the Priest’s face as he lets out a relieved sigh.

“Only impossibly high stats and a one in a million blessing, thank god.” His relief confuses me, and probably Porter. I have to assume for the knight. Without talking to us the priest hands me a blue rock and leaves. A few minutes later the secretary returns and takes us to the place we started.

As we walk towards the main doors to leave, Porter asks me something. “So far, every person that has been from your world that I’m aware of has had a blessing. All full ones too. At least I’m assuming from their strength. I wonder why?” He says that, but his face has no trace of curiosity to it. Just chiseled stone. Very handsome, lean, pretty boy stone. 

On the way back to the manor I think over what class I want. Something that uses magic, swords, and looks really cool doing it.

 

【〓〓〓〓】

 

When we get back to the manor Porter takes me around to the back side. A huge complex of simple but large buildings stretches all the way to the massive crystal looming over it all. There’s men in uniforms everywhere, oh, and some women as well. A lot of them are loitering around a large area full of circular fields. They’re going at it, sparring, I mean. I wouldn’t mind seeing the other type either, honestly. 

Porter drags me to one of the empty rings in the back corner of the bunch. He tosses a red orb at me and I manage to catch it. It warmly pulses in my hand, creepy. 

“Use that to pick your class.” The knight points at the throb-ball. I look at him with much confusion. He sits me down, on the dirt specifically, and starts explaining classes. I’ve heard some about them in passing, but never detailed like this. I’m shocked I didn’t get some wretched class forced on me during the last few months. 

He walks me through which classes do what well, and what ones are traps to the unaware. His face is very pretty, but his monotone voice is very dull. I try to keep listening but eventually give up and activate the pervert bauble. Instead of the messages Porter had said would show up in my mind, a totally different one appears.

 

 

Huh, those sound neat. What are they, though? I try to focus on one of the options, wishing for more information. Thankfully the system obliges. 

 

 

Well, that one is lame, and doesn’t use many of my talents. NEXT!

 

 

Ugh, that sounds horribly unpleasant, plus it has the same problems as the other one! NEXT!

 

 

I don’t want to have others doing my dirty work, I wanna be up front. Neeeeext.

 

 

Eww, just… gross. I’d be like a huge blob thing? No thanks. Next, please.

 

 

This one’s okay, but there’s one more. Let's see that one first.

 

 

Oh, this one is a super special one, and I can upgrade it. The description is super weird and confusing but I don’t really care. I’ll pick that one! 

 

 

Sure, whatever, I want to use cool abilities now! I hop to my feet, startling Porter into silence. Poor guy was still explaining things to me.

“Are you ready to choose your class?” He tilts his head in a shocking display of emotion. 

“No, I already picked.”

He stares at me even blanker than normal. 

“What?” 

 

】〓〓〓〓【

Porter

】〓〓〓〓【

 

She’s worse than the children. Her chosen class is some insane thing I don’t have any understanding of. She also is incapable of describing what her abilities do, getting distracted halfway through. Now she wants to instantly start sparring with me, without a weapon. Could I please meet someone normal? Maybe a sleepy banker or an over-caffeinated herbalist?

“Alright, Lady Kezmark, let’s begin.” I call out.

 The woman instantly shoots forward, running straight at me. Her speed is impressive, but her movements are sloppy and easy to predict. Also she has no weapon. I hold my weapon out to the side, causing her to run headfirst into it. She didn’t even try to slow down.

“Lady Kezmark, maybe try using an ability?” Her eyes go wide as she beams in happiness. She furrows her brows as she thinks over her options. Eventually she choses one, a black glow appearing around her hands.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I feel the familiar sensation of summoning magic. I jump backwards from where the thing is appearing. My move is quickly validated by the monstrosity that appears. 

It’s… not a monster, or an animal. It’s also not a weapon. The thing is an undifferentiated mass of flesh and metal twisted together like a toy broken by a furious child. Unfortunately the thing is alive, and obviously suffering. Eyes dot the broken skin of the thing, all of them weeping. Rusted iron cuts through the mismatched skin at random intervals, the surrounding flesh red and inflamed. There’s no discernable limbs, just blades that jut out of the mass randomly. The blades themselves are twisted, warped, and uneven. Overall the object is one of suffering and despair, more of a sadistic dream than something that really exists.

“Well, that’s not right.” The redheaded woman looks the unfortunate entity over like she’s looking at an art piece. “That’s really not right. I was trying to make a little goblin with a sword.” She walks up to her creation, which is several heads taller than her. “How’d it get like this? Maybe I didn’t focus enough?” The insane girl is talking like she’s picking out groceries at the market. 

Rumbling vibrates the ground around us as the thing makes a low pitched wail. Amy kicks the thing, causing it to yelp in pain. “Quiet, you, I’m trying to think.” The fleshthing just whimpers in defeat. Eventually Amy puts her hands up next to the mistake. The black-purple glow around her hands envelops the creature. She’s using freeform magic, but I haven’t taught her that yet, not even the concept.

Amy’s failure lets out a final screech as it vanishes in a bright flash. Her magic flows back into her hands. She scowls down at her palms, like they’ve somehow betrayed her. 

“I was trying to make it smaller.” The madwoman sounds annoyed. Is nothing smaller? Because that’s what she actually made it. She looks over at me. “Can you teach me magic?” 

I shake my head and just leave. The woman seems uninterested in my departure and goes back to training. 

Gods, what is wrong with these otherworlders?