Eden stands there in silence, unable to speak even a single word in response to the old man.

  “Do you see the truths of this place now, Eden?” The old man asks Eden, dumbfounded at this blatant cruelty. The powerful laugh at the powerless once more, a feeling Eden hoped to never feel.

  I thought I got out of this life, the life of a foolish slave. Can my torment ever end? What force could I have possibly angered for such an unforgiving storm of wrath? This place is not my redemption, for my very support of this wicked place is the greatest sin of all. Eden solemnly believes, sitting in his chair made from lies. His gaze never leaves the arenas, each one specially designed to inflict as much suffering as possible. Pain is in the eye of the beholder, and Eden’s sight was that of blood.

  “Yes, I believe I do, old man.” Eden answers. “This place is that of suffering, not of redemption. It has no goal to improve us but instead to enslave us, turn us into nothing more than puppets following their strings.” Eden shares with the old man, who is semi shocked at his quick realization.

  To think Eden of all people who say something like that. Though, if what happened to him truly did then it is not surprising. But, maybe the boy is not all that bad after all. Perhaps I could pull off my plan, and finally have a human move up to places in the bastard’s kingdom. The old man concludes, looking at Eden with brighter, but still somewhat dead eyes.

  “So it appears you had some promise in you. I thought of you as a lost clause long ago, arguing with you only hoping on a pipe dream of you changing. But this talk serves no value but to state the obvious. We need to prepare for our round with the short time we do have, for the sake of survival.” The old man tells Eden, who looks a little shaken up.

  “But what would be these preparations you speak of? I could not think of anything of note to plan for. This looks to be a game of luck mixed with small doses of skill, skill completely at the mercy of our masked redeemers. They could just give us an impossible task after all. So how would we plan for that?” Eden questions the old man. However instead of speaking he signals you up and walks towards the other people here, numbering about 10. They are all in broken shambles, hunched over from back pain, and all have at least a few scars. This was not helped by their old age and lack of just about everything a man would have on them. Their clothes were decorative only, and only a few have weapons, though the word may be too kind for what they are carrying. But half of the people in the group look like they could not even lift a sword, let alone use one, so it hardly matters what they are wielding anyway. These men however look to have at least calmed down, albeit only slightly, from how they were when walking here. Though their faces are still void of colour. Still the old man walks up to them, making a peaceful rhythm with his walking. The odd sound echoes across the area, and Eden feels a slight vibration in his bones, soothing everyone present, and leading to the broken old men to regain a smidgen of pigment back in their body. While they are still rather lifeless, hope infests them.

  “Oh wait! We have him in our group! We might be able to survive this!” The small crowd cheers, seeming to have great faith in the old man even in the face of certain death. The old man however ignores these words and begins talking, not even bothering to glance at half of the people there.

  “I am afraid this will not end as easily as your cheers will. As most of you are aware, well apart from one of you, the arena we are sent to and the challenge we face will be picked by how many years we bargain to lose this time, with a minimum bet of 1% of the total time.” The old man recaps, much to the confusion of the frail crowd. The old man is quick to notice this confusion, and goes to clear it up. “We have a new person, Eden the name, though not for long I assume, who will be joining us. Hence, why I stress the increased difficulty of what we may face, well what half of us will face. Luckily we can split up into two groups. I will be with Eden, but do not foolishly think to join us if you cannot fight, or you will die.” The old man informs the old men, who are beginning to lose their quickly regained colour as fast as they gained it. But it would seem that they are not so willing to believe that the rope is rotten, so they push further.

  “What do you mean? There should not be that many years to bargain with your group. What, does the boy have quite a few years? Come on man, do you really think we cannot handle a slightly stronger enemy? How much does he even have? 100 years? 500 years?” The tallest one rapidly questions the old man.

  The old guy, the tallest out of all the people there, still towers over 6 ft (1.83 m) even with his messed up back. He is also the bulkiest one, looking like a heavyweight boxer. It makes sense that he holds a shield and axe, though his axe has massive cracks in it, and his clothes look like a brown sponge with how many holes there are in it.

  “10,000 years.” The old man calmly says to the crowd, though the reactions of them all are anything but. About half of the crowd falls to the ground, and at least one of them has a mild heart attack. “Oh calm down, calm down, not all hope is lost.” The old man reaffirms the crowd, though the part of the crowd who fell are still uncontrollably shaking. Contrary to the others’ reaction of either silence or fear, the tall one’s brow angles, and his face scrunches up.

  “What do you mean calm down!? The most we have had in total was roughly 7,000 years, and you are telling me one guy beats our whole team's record for total years left in this place!? We cannot handle that kind of challenge with our old bodies, especially since our equipment has broken or is just about.” The tall man exclaims to the old man, who slumps down, looking rather disappointed at the tall man.

  “And of what use is this talk of yours? Do your words of doubt make us stronger? I was not aware you once were an orator, though faulty you must have been.” The old man firmly mocks before continuing. “Furthermore, like I have stated before, not all hope is lost. While the foe we may face is mighty, with calamity comes opportunity and with great threats comes rise to a hero. And this hero I speak of would be this young man named Eden.” The old man claims, signalling for Eden to speak, however he seems to have gone stationary; solid as a rock from the sudden pressure.

  Why are you putting this on me old man? This was your debate, and I know not of what this apparent trial even is! All I know is that we all must fight to save ourselves. Eden panics, but his heart abruptly calms down, as his body is surrounded by a blue glow that is ever so slightly tinted green, though the green has no effect from the activation of his passive, “patience”.

  “I do not think of myself as a hero, I lack the proper strength and ability to grow for such a thing to be accomplished.” Eden humbly tells the crowd, as they look down, some of which are shedding a few tears.

  “Eden, you talk without pride of your own abilities. You are far stronger than these people, and your lack of growth is simply a byproduct of this place's growth blockers. So you would be unable to rep the seeds of your effort until you level up.” The old man interjects. “Anyway, this boy will be the one who helps us the most, given I understand our circumstances correctly.” The old man calls out, trying to rally the men together with his attempt at a speech. On the contrary however, the crowd seems to have little faith in Eden. Their look of distrust is noticed by both the old man and Eden.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  What should I do? I do not even know what kind of match we will be having, let alone how to win it! It is not like I know anyone who could know what might happen- wait! While I may not be able to make a plan beforehand, if I have knowledge of everyone here, perhaps I could make a plan when the battle starts. Eden realizes. But upon looking at the crowd he starts to think again. These guys do not look like they will be of much help. I mean half of them are so busy crying to even talk to me in the first place. But I should at least give them the dignity to explain how they can be of help to all of our survival. Eden decides.

  “Okay, everyone, as you have heard from him, I am Eden and will be leading us towards success. However, to do this I must know the skill set of those I am working with to help think of some kind of plan. Could each of you please give me a short summary of what you are proficient in, so I better understand what we are working with? Equipment details would also be useful” Eden asks the crowd. In response, they all look at each other, quietly talk, and then line up in height order. They then each state their skill set, from tallest to shortest, with the tall guy who was fighting with the old man starting first.

  “Hello! I am of the tanky class, so I can take a few hits from most monsters at my level. My main weapons are a castle shield and an axe, but my axe has been basically broken since the last trial, so my offensive power is lacking compared to normal. But I still have my sturdiness." The tall, old man says.

  A tank, probably should have been able to guess that. Regardless, a tank is always helpful in any battle if this world works like those games back in ancient past. Eden concludes.

  “Howdy partner! Cowboy hat tilts. I am a dualist. If you could not guess I use guns and a lasso, but I lost most of my guns and only have this old six-shooter, and with only 3 shots to boot. But one shot from these blasters will make the target fall like a knife wielding fool in a duel at high noon.” The man, noticeably younger compared to everyone else, tells Eden. The man is in a standard wild west outfit, pardon all the holes and dirt covering it. His cowboy hat is still in good condition however, only having some patches of dirt and dust on it, with no holes visible.

  A marksman of sorts, could be helpful. Only three bullets will be rather annoying to work with, but it should still be helpful. Also, the lasso could prove useful, albeit not that much. Eden decides.

  “Hi. I am a life mage specializing in poison.” The old man quietly informs Eden. The man wears all black, with a cloth ninja-like mask over his entire face. You can only tell his age from the large amount of wrinkles on his uncovered forehead.

  This one does not look very strong, but I did not notice him till now, so he clearly is at least good at stealth, not to mention the magic. Could prove useful at some points. Eden reasons.

  “Yes sir! I am an archer, sir. However, I have no arrows left, but I have a good bow, sir.” The old man loudly answers Eden while saluting. He wears a military vest and clothes, and looks like a war vet.

  An archer with no arrows. He is not going to be helpful much at all. Wait, I do have some arrows, from the traps on the first floor. He is best fit as a secondary burst damage source when the marksmen cannot get a shot off when we need it. Eden comes up with.

  After these four finish their introductions, the last six stand there while looking down or really anywhere not near Eden. Whenever one of them would try to talk, it was in mumbles, or they would shut up almost instantly, backing away from the group. Eden was about to say something, but the old man interrupted.

  “The rest are a bunch of worthless fools with spinal and brain problems, long since lost all combat skills, and are only alive because their total years left in this place could hardly summon a slime. The only ones going with you Eden would have to be me and the four tallest guys.” The old man tells Eden

  Seems Eden is taking some sort of initiative, getting to know the group and how they may be of value. Oh, that reminds me, I never got around to telling Eden my specialities, did I? I am sure it would be of use to him, though of course Eden may or may not have enough time to use these ideas, solely dependent on what choices are made by the ones filled with greed. Old man reasons with himself.

  “I realize I have never disclosed my main skill set with you Eden, hence I am obligated to do so now. I am a martial artist focused on kicking attacks. I rely mostly on defensive and supportive techniques, not having much burst damage, but very constant damage.” The old man informs Eden.

  Okay, so we have ranged attackers, a tank, me, and a melee dealer. Great in theory, but our equipment will hold us back no doubt. Eden concludes. After a few seconds of silences, Eden breaks it with something on the back of his mind.

  “Okay, first thing first, we need to find code names for all of you, it would be confusing to say old guy or something of the like. Image we are in battle, it could mess us up if say the wrong person fires at the monster.” Eden tells the crowd of useful old men, who seem to nod in agreement.

  “So how about we call the tanker guy Tank. Gun guy, your code name is Cowboy. Poison mage, your code name will be Toxin. Archer, your code name shall be Soldier. And the martial artist *turns head* you keep your name of old man.” Eden declares to the old men, each accepting their new code names, even though most of them suck as real names.

  “So what happens to be the plan, Eden? You must have some ideas in your head if I had to assume.” Old man asks Eden, to which he pulls out a bunch of random things from his inventory and starts to strategize. He had pulled out the two axes, the hunting knife, the four arrows, some wood and stone, and the glue jars. Upon looking at the pile, Toxin and Old Man gasps at the sight of the spirit axe, while Soldier smiles at the arrows and Tanker looks at the shield. Cowboy stands there absent-mindedly.

  “Where did you obtain this? This should not be found anywhere on the first and second floor, unless you met someone of great prestige.” The old man quickly asks Eden, holding up the axe.

  Is this weapon really all that impressive? Well they must know someone from their reaction, better ask them. Eden concludes.

  “I got it from a guy named Quatch. Why does it matter though? The axe is not all that good, worse than the one right there.” Eden says as he points to the axe. The two men look dumbfounded at these words however, but they come to a realization that the axe must be sealed.

  Was Eden really unaware of the true value of this axe? I never knew a man named Quatch back in Elderwood, but if he had an item like this he must be quite influential. Regardless, with the axe sealed it will not do us much good. Luckily, due to the abundance of wood spirits, we could probably bribe one of them to at least partly unseal this axe. Wait, I might not even need to bribe them, that one might do it for free. It would seem his supposed worthless ‘kindness’ to that wood spirit shall prove to be rather useful. Or more like it the free profits from him. The old man realizes. He then starts to explain to Eden the worth of this axe.

  “Eden, While this axe may be sealed, not even showing up in the inventory no less, it would prove rather helpful in our endeavours given we could unseal it.” The old man tells Eden, who has gained a worried face upon hearing those words.

  “Pardon my ignorance, such as I always seem to have, but would not unsealing the axe make us unable to wield it? I was unable to lift the axe before a spell, which I now can recognize as a seal, allied me to lift it.” Eden questions the old man, chuckling at his words before bouncing back with his own question.

  “Did you not possess the ‘Axe Mastery’ skill upon equipping the axe?” The old man politely remarks, to which Eden nods his head, but clarifies that he possesses the skill now. The old man laughs at this, but calms down to a more serious tone.

  “So you were given a weapon you could not wield. It would seem this Quatch guy is not that much of a gentleman. But to clarify this axe could only be wielded by someone with a mastery skill for axes or if they had some sort of alternative ability to bypass this requirement.” The old man informs Eden. “Regardless, we need to get it unsealed first to use it, and then make a solid plan for victory.” The old man advises the group. But before they could enact any of this, a booming voice echoes throughout the whole tent.

  “Newcomers! I believe we have given you quite a good amount of time to prepare yourselves. Come down to the fourth arena to start your trail.” Cosmos yells out to Eden and the old men.

  No! He cannot be serious! We barely had any time at all! What chance do we stand with no real ideas on how to respond to different attacks? Only two others besides me can truly fight without some kind of limitation, and we have not been able to find workarounds yet. This trail was never meant to be won, was it? Eden wonders, but before the group can panic out anything, another voice yells out, one that surprises Eden, but makes Old Man smile.

  “I would like to request an exhibition match for prisoner Eden!” Yells out a wood spirit, the very same who oversaw him. The same being who had never treated him like a slave, unlike the rest of the spirits here, at least the ones that Eden hears about from old stories stare throughout the empty fields. The spirit who saw value in Eden, the spirit that would mark the redemption of Eden’s so-called tainted soul.

  Eden Status report-

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