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Now reading: Book 3: Chapter 10 from Bog Standard Isekai, a Fantasy novel by Miles English.

The next day, Davi ca over again for their workout and breakfast again, and he stuck around for a bit to play Jogosa. Davi won the first three gas handily. It was surprising how good he was, actually. Brin had never thought he was dumb exactly, but he’d also never pegged the big guy as a tactical thinker.

By the fourth Brin was starting to get the hang of it. He won the fifth ga, but then Davi won the sixth ga.

Davi gained a point in ntal Control for it, and left soon after. Brin asked Hogg to play a ga, and was surprised when he said yes.

Hogg completely obliterated Brin. It was great. He already had ideas on how to do better next ga.

“Don’t you have sothing better to do?” Hogg said, looking pointedly at the math prirs.

Brin sighed. “I guess.”

He gave it two hours of solid effort, but then let himself get distracted by lunch. After that, well, he really didn’t want to get started again.

“Hey, didn’t you promise to show how to use the sword?” asked Brin.

“Well, yeah, but honestly we’re this close to System Day, we might as well wait and see what you get. Swords might not even be the best weapon for you,” said Hogg. “It takes years to master the sword. Not sothing you can do in a day.”

“Can you get a basic foundation in a day, though?” asked Brin.

Hogg tilted his head side to side while he thought it over. “Might be a good idea. Alright, et out front.”

Brin waited in the clearing outside the house, and Hogg joined him a mont later, carrying two of the blacksteel swords the undead had carried.

“Make no mistake, these are still too heavy for you. But if we’re doing this, you might as well get a workout,” said Hogg. “Now. Do this.”

Hogg placed his feet in a forward stance and pulled the sword back to a ready position. Then he walked over and adjusted Brin’s feet and elbows until he was satisfied.

“Rember that chop I had you do when we were running from the army?”

“Yes,” said Brin. It was crazy to think of how much he’d grown since that day. This sword that he could barely lift was barely a burden to him now.

“Do a favor and forget all that,” said Hogg.

“What?”

“It was all you could do to get the sword in the air back then. A real downward strike looks like this.” He moved slowly into a two-handed chop.

Brin moved to copy it, and again, Hogg adjusted his form until he was satisfied.

Brin went through the motion again and again. Repetition is the mother of learning, or so they say.

Hogg urged him to chop faster and faster. “You need to count on fighting enemies that are faster than you. Every blow needs to be as quick as you can make it.”

His arms were burning five minutes into it, and after ten minutes, Hogg was satisfied. “Alright, now do this.”

He showed Brin how to slash from the side, and they went through all the steps again. When he mastered that, they went on to the next motion. Brin learned to slash from each side, cut upwards, and then thrust.

“The thrust is the most important. There are enemies you won’t be able to cut but who can still be pierced. Step forward with this one, you’ll want to give it all the power you can muster.”

Then Hogg had him put them all together. Down, left, right, up, thrust.

“Yes! Combo attack!”

“Don’t look so happy. This isn’t going to work against a real opponent. We’re just practicing your form,” said Hogg.

This ti, Hogg stepped forward with his sword in the ready position. “Against , this ti.”

Brin struck with as much strength and speed as he could from the getgo; there was no use holding back against Hogg.

The older man blocked every blow, easily, just as Brin expected him to.

“Again. Faster,” said Hogg.

Brin did his best to comply.

He practiced again and again, until the minutes turned into an hour and he thought his arms were going to fall off. Hitting Hogg with the heavy blacksteel sword felt like he was striking an anvil, and he’d grown bruises on his palms.

“Good enough,” said Hogg. “Now it’s ti to learn to block.”

Hogg’s sword ca down from above, and it was all Brin could do to get it up in ti. He managed to stop the blow, no doubt because Hogg let him, but the old guy went straight into the next one, and the next one, relentless. Brin blocked most of them, but any ti his form was even a little bit off, Hogg knocked the sword straight out of his hands.

By the ti Hogg finally let him go, Brin was happy to get back to sothing as simple as math. He literally couldn’t lift the sword anymore; Hogg had to bring it back inside.

When he got back and sketched so math problems into a bark paper writing pad, his hands were shaking so much it was barely legible.

He put it down, and focused on rubbing so life back into them instead.

“By the way. Don’t go around telling people you know how to use the sword now. You don’t,” said Hogg.

Brin chuckled. “Thanks.”

Hogg suddenly looked pained. “But… I have to admit. You did pretty good out there. I thought you’d give up after ten minutes. You’re no swordsman, but you’ve got the basics. When we t I figured you’d get [Rogue] or possibly so kind of Class that’s intellectual like [Philosopher]. Now, though, I wouldn’t be surprised if you really do get [Warrior].”

“Th-thanks,” said Brin. Hogg was pretty stingy with complints, which ant that Brin would probably end up rembering this one for the rest of his life. He really had worked hard, hadn’t he?

He looked down at his math howork. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He stood up to go sit next to the coffee table, where they’d left the Jogosa ga. He looked up at Hogg with puppy dog eyes.

He hadn’t been that into chess back in his old world, but he had been addicted to gas, and now that he’d been reintroduced to one he’d awoken a deep hunger for them.

“Oh, fine,” said Hogg, and pulled a stool over to the other side.

Brin made the first move, predicting that Hogg would use the sa strategy from last ti. Hogg did sothing completely different that left Brin scratching his chin.

“What’s Class selection like? Can I ask?”

“Well, I was planning on having this conversation a little closer to the night before System Day, but there’s no real reason I can’t tell you now.”

Brin perked up, extrely interested.

“Most people get offered two Classes. One is [Child]. If you really don’t like your choices, you can take [Child], and you’ll have better options next year. It really is a valid option. No one will look down on you for taking it,” said Hogg.

“Can you—”

“You can’t get the pre-System Day achievents that way,” said Hogg.

“Shoot. Worth a shot,” said Brin.

“Everyone will also be offered at least one Common Class. Most people will have two or three. For , I could’ve chosen from six, but only one was a real temptation,” said Hogg.

“What was it?”

“[Smoker]. They can do stuff with smoke. Also, lung protection,” said Hogg.

“No offense, but I think you made the right choice,” said Brin.

“Sotis I wonder about that,” said Hogg.

Sothing about the term [Smoker] made Brin picture young Hogg as a stoner. Hogg smoked a pipe occasionally, but not more than once a week or so. Had he toned it down for health reasons? Was this the origin story for Hogg’s gravelly voice?

Brin stared at the board. He seed to be doing really well, but he didn’t really understand what Hogg was up to. What was he missing? He moved his queen. Hogg moved to block and– oh. He was three turns away from losing. Could he turn it around?

Hogg talked while Brin stared at the board. “So people get offered a Rare Class. I don’t need to explain to you why they’re worth taking, so let tell you the exceptions instead. Rember to ask what the pre-evolutions are. If you get offered [Knight], ask if you can have [Squire] instead. If you get offered [Mage], ask if you can have [Student of Magic]. You’ll still end up with the more advanced Class eventually, but you’ll be much better off for it in the long run. So Classes aren’t worth it, though, and don’t bother with Common Classes. [Tinker] to [Smith], for example. Don’t take [Tinker] unless you like to [Tinker].”

“I can rember that,” said Brin.

“Next…” Hogg looked down, clenched his jaw, then looked back up. “Don’t take an evil Class, alright? It’s not just [Witch]. There are plenty of Classes that are predisposed towards the unsavory.”

“Can a Class really make you evil?” asked Brin.

“No. But actually, yes. The gods won’t take away your freedom, but you can take it away from yourself. There are Classes that bend your mind, that remove your compassion, that give you dark appetites. Maybe you think you have the willpower to resist those appetites. Well, good for you. Resist taking the Class in the first place and make it easier on yourself.”

Brin didn’t see a way out in this ga. Hogg had him beat. He made a random move, hoping that maybe sothing he hadn’t noticed would save him. Hogg’s next move surrounded Brin’s citadel. Sure, they could play it out, but the ga was basically over. He started setting up the board to play again.

“How will I know if a Class is evil?”

“There are obvious things I could say. Don’t take plague Classes. Don’t take anything pre-undead. But honestly? Just look at them. The System isn’t going to hide anything from you. Evil Classes will look evil. If you take the Class, expect to beco the kind of thing that you’re looking at. I know I’m talking in vagaries here, but the process is a little different for everyone. If you’re ever in doubt, find out what you have to do to gain experience.”

Brin was doing better this ga. He gave up on long-term strategy and tried to capture as many of Hogg’s pieces as he could, sothing that Hogg was finding very frustrating from the long pauses he kept taking.

“Doesn’t everyone get experience the sa way? Killing monsters? Except people with Common Classes, I guess.”

“Except ninety percent of people, you an? You can get experience from killing, but for the most part you get experience from doing what your Class is for. There’s power in that. Lots of Classes that seem worthless will turn out extrely powerful due to how easy or fun they are to level up. [Gambler], for one. Nobles will generally try to get a magical Class due to the prestige, but it’s absurd how many high-level [Philanderers] there are in the upper echelons.”

“You’re kidding,” said Brin.

“Nope. Get a Class doing sothing you like to do, that’s rule number one. On the flip-side, so Classes are strong, but hard to level. [Assassin], for example. On the surface, it looks like it’s an advancent from [Rogue] in every way. Well, there’s a problem with that. [Rogues] can gain experience from all kinds of things. [Assassins] have to kill people, and only people–monsters are no good. If you ever et a high-level [Assassin], it’s because they spent years and years leveling up as a [Rogue], and then changed their Class once the levels weren’t coming fast enough to be worth it any more.”

There was still a rebellious part of Brin that wanted [Witch], just to prove that he could handle it without turning into a psychopath. Before Hogg’s change in attitude, that had started to seem like a good option. Now, though, it sounded like a whole lot of extra trouble for no good reason. Well, maybe he wouldn’t even get the choice. He couldn’t know until System Day.

They played a few gas more, and Brin studied the rest of the day.

The next morning, Brin took both tests. They weren’t exactly easy, but the questions were very similar to the ones in the prir. He didn’t even need Hogg to score them to know he’d gotten a perfect score.

For your feat of ntal discipline, you have been awarded the following. ntal Control 1

For your feat of ntal discipline, you have been awarded the following. ntal Control 1

Congratulations! You have gained an achievent. Disciplined I (Common) You have reached 26 ntal Control 10% focus and concentration 10% ntal Control attribute growth

Congratulations! You have upgraded an achievent. Workhorse (Rare) Now gives you: 1 ntal Control per level.

When he shut the book, Hogg gave him a long, steady look that seed to communicate trust, but not a little worry.

“Well, I’ll be busy today. Entertain yourself or whatever. I won’t be watching.”

It was today. Today he was finally going to kill a monster.

When he’d planned this out in his mind, sohow he’d always pictured it happening at night. Obviously that was stupid. Why make it harder on himself? He was already doing sothing dangerous; he needed every advantage he could get. Even if night would’ve been more romantic.

At least the sky wasn’t blue; it was the color of a moody gray, like it hadn’t decided yet if it wanted to rain or not and it was still grumpy from being woken up so early.

He carefully put on the leather armor. He hadn’t even thought about a helt, but Perris included it. The armor felt solid. Strong. He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw a young warrior staring back. Excited, he strapped one sword to his back, and put the other in a sheath at his belt. The one on the back would be harder to pull quickly, but two at the sheath would be too awkward. It would have to do.

He put the rest of the items he’d prepared in a backpack. It didn’t take long at all to get ready. Minutes. He felt like it should’ve taken longer. He walked out the door.

Marksi ca along beside him. Would he get a better achievent if Marksi stayed ho?

“Marksi, I’m going to do sothing dangerous. You’d better–”

That was the wrong thing to say. The snake flashed up his back and wriggled around his neck so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe.

“You can co!” he gasped. Then when Marksi loosened up a little, he continued. “But you’re going to stay safe. I’m fighting the monsters. You’re going to hang back. Actually, let’s do this.”

Brin took a minute and taught Marksi that when he yelled, “Run!” Marksi was supposed to get away as fast as possible, and not return until Brin called him back. He stayed until he was sure Marksi would listen.

Then he was out of excuses. It was ti to move.

The last thing to decide was where he’d check for monsters first. He figured that the places that [Hunter] had cleared most recently would be the least likely to have new monsters. Or would it be the most likely? He didn’t know why monsters returned to the sa spot, or if they really even did. He didn’t even know where monsters ca from. Were they just larger-than-average beasts, or did the word monster indicate there was sothing magical about them?

He hadn’t made it far when he saw a female figure standing in the middle of the road. Long black hair, clothes fit for a princess, and a surprisingly pretty face when it wasn’t in the middle of a scowl. Just the sight of her made his stomach clench with irritation and anxiety.

“I would have a word with you,” said [Weaver] Tawna.

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