[You have selected Guardian as your class.]
[Are you sure?]
Martinâs finger hovered over the confirmation.
One choice, right at the start. He could already picture the alternative: picking something popular, then spending the whole night pitching himself to strangers like a job interview.
If I pick wrong, Iâll be auditioning for parties.
He exhaled slowly.
If I pick right, I wonât have to audition at all.
He weighed his options and went with the tank role. It matched what his mother expected of him, and it fit the kind of player he wanted to be in this game. As a tank, he could let the role do the talking instead of constantly explaining himself.
Heâd played a few MMOs before. DPS outnumbered everyone, which meant tanks, healers, and buffers could afford to be picky. Now he could be picky too.
The evolution system in
Monster Hunter Academy Online
also gave him hope. With any luck, Guardian would branch into something that could take hits and still dish them out, a classic bruiser.
[Yes.]
[You have received: Wooden Shield (Green), Steel Sword (Green), and three new skills: Taunt (Common), Shield Bash (Common), Fortify (Common).]
[Your status has been updated.]
[Youâre about to be teleported to the Forest Hidden Monster Hunter Academy.]
[5...]
As the countdown ended, his vision exploded into rainbow particles. He blinked through the glare and found himself staring at the back of someone elseâs head.
Martin was standing in an orderly line, one of many stretching across a wide clearing. Ahead, on a wooden platform, stood a man in leather armor with a sword at his hip. A thick scar cut across his face and swallowed one eye.
He grinned. "Iâm Rangar, a jack of all trades at the Forest Hidden Monster Hunter Academy. Iâll be overseeing your first quests here, or as you players call it, the tutorial. Youâll learn our worldâs mechanics, and youâll see for yourself whether the class you chose is a perfect fit.
"Donât fear being noobs! Haha. Surprised? I learned that word from other players!"
A wave of awkward laughter rolled through the rows.
Martin glanced around.
Everyone looks about my age.
He belatedly remembered character customization.
I didnât even bother with my avatarâs looks. There were probably options... but itâs fine. Iâm not here to pretend to be someone else.
A hand shot up.
"Iâd like a second sword. I didnât get one in the character creation room," a female player said, clear and steady. "I can trade the dagger I received for it."
Her voice was steady, maybe a little too steady, like sheâd rehearsed it once or twice. She stood straight in the middle of the row, shoulders slightly tight, as if she was daring herself not to back down.
Martinâs attention went to her.
She didnât stand out to look at, but the request itself drew attention.
A few players murmured under their breath. Heads turned. Not awe. More like mild surprise that someone was already negotiating with the NPC.
Dual-wielding from the start?
Martin thought.
Thatâs either confidence... or sheâs trying hard to sound confident.
For a split second, something about her manner tugged at his memory. The careful cadence of her voice. The way she chose her words, like she didnât want to give anyone an opening.
Do I know her?
Rangarâs smile widened. "Dual swords are still within the range of your Duelist class. Fair request. Iâll gladly give you a second common sword!"
"Thank you," the woman said.
She didnât celebrate. She just nodded and accepted it, like she was relieved the request worked and didnât want to show it.
Martinâs eyes widened, just a little.
So thatâs possible too.
NPCs really were on another level in this game.
It shouldnât surprise me, in a full-dive VR world like this.
More requests followed: weapon swaps, skill adjustments. Some were denied, some approved.
Martin didnât see a reason to change anything. With a swipe through the air, he opened the system menu. A clean interface unfolded: inventory, stats, profile, socials, and the log out button.
He dragged his gear into the appropriate slots.
The wooden shield snapped onto his forearm.
Not just a visual effect. The weight settled into his bones like someone had strapped a plank of damp wood to him. The leather loop cinched tight around his wrist, and when he rotated his arm, the shield resisted, tugging his balance half a step off-center.
The sword appeared at his waist. He felt it too, the subtle pull of the scabbard against his hip, the way it bumped when he breathed.
Martin flexed his fingers around the shield grip. The grain pressed into his palm. He could even feel where the wood was rougher, where it had splintered slightly.
Woah. That was instant.
His throat went tight.
This is not a controller.
He lifted the shield again, slower this time, watching his own forearm work. The movement felt real because it was real.
I really am in a fantasy world now.
"We will now begin your first quest!" Rangar shouted.
Wooden training dummies rose from the ground around the players, each holding a wooden spear. They had no legs, just thick posts anchored into the earth.
[Tutorial Quest #1: Block ten strikes from the training dummy without your shield being destroyed.]
"Blocking is a core part of being a Guardian," Rangar said. "Youâll learn how it feels. When you block, take the enemyâs hit on the center of your shield. That spreads the force and reduces the damage. Also, donât hide behind it. If you canât see the weapon, you canât block it."
That sounds fun.
Martin flexed his fingers again.
This isnât a character on a screen. Itâs my own hands. My own reaction time.
Rangar continued, "The easiest way to defeat a Guardian is to chip away at their shieldâs durability. Hit anywhere but the center and youâll wear it down faster, until they lose their main defense. As a Guardian, you must always keep an eye on that! And yes, these dummies will try to trick you. Donât blame me when they do!"
Martin walked to the closest dummy and stared into its carved wooden face.
[Would you like to begin the test?]
[Yes.]
The dummy lunged immediately.
Martin barely had time to set his feet. Instinct made him throw the shield up, but his stance was sloppy, weight too far back, shoulders tensed like he was bracing for a car crash.
The spear hit.
BANG!
The impact wasnât just noise. It jolted his forearm and rattled his teeth, a vibration that traveled up to his elbow. The shield shoved him a fraction of an inch, and for a split second his brain screamed that his wrist should have snapped.
Then the pain didnât come. Only pressure, only shock, like getting punched through a thick winter coat.
[Your Wooden Shield has lost 10 durability.]
[90/100]
[Hit: 1/10]
A warning sound stabbed his ears, sharp and familiar, too close to his morning alarm.
[Shield Block failed.]
Martin flinched.
That was a bad block.
Heâd raised the shield too high and too close. Worse, it covered his whole view.
The dummy attacked again.
Martin heard the scrape of wood before he saw anything. He tried to adjust mid-guard, but he was reacting blind.
BANG!
[Your Wooden Shield has lost 16 durability.]
[Hit: 2/10]
From the platform, Rangar barked, "Eyes up! Shield forward, not over your face!"
Then the sound hit him, that same ugly alarm tone.
Edge hit. Itâs eating durability.
Rangarâs lecture snapped into focus. Center the impact. Keep sight of the weapon. Donât let the shield become a wall.
Okay. Breathe. Knees bent. Shield forward, not up.
The third strike came.
Martin lowered the shield just enough to watch the spearâs line and whispered, "Fortify."
[Your skill Fortify has been activated.]
[Your shieldâs damage reduction has increased.]
A faint warmth spread through his arm, subtle but real, like the shield had suddenly gained weight and stability.
He stepped to the side, meeting the thrust with the center instead of letting it slide toward the rim.
BANG!
The warning sound was softer.
His shield only lost four durability.
[Hit: 3/10]
Better.
He forced himself to keep his eyes on the dummyâs hands and spearhead, not the system messages.
I canât just hold the shield.
I have to guide the hit into the middle.
Footwork first, angle second.
The fourth strike came fast.
Martin started to move early, ready to catch it clean.
Then the dummy adjusted mid-swing.
The spear twisted, skimming for the shieldâs side.
What? It changed the angle?
BANG!
[Your Wooden Shield has lost 14 durability.]
[Hit: 4/10]
Martin huffed a laugh through his nose.
So it adapts.
The next six attacks were brutal.
The dummy stopped repeating the same timing. It varied the rhythm, quick-quick-slow, then slow-quick. It feinted high and stabbed low. It aimed for the rim whenever Martin got lazy and for the center whenever he overcorrected.
Martin adjusted on the fly.
He widened his stance. He stopped hiding behind the shield. He kept it forward, slightly angled, so he could still see around it. When the dummy thrust, he met the line and guided the impact inward. When it slashed, he rotated his forearm instead of swinging his whole body.
BANG!
[Hit: 5/10]
BANG!
[Hit: 6/10]
BANG!
[Hit: 7/10]
Some hits landed clean with a dull, controlled thud. Some grazed the edge and screamed at him with that alarm-like tone.
Another strike came.
He stepped in too late, caught it off-center, and felt the shield shudder.
BANG!
[Hit: 8/10]
His arm burned. Not pain exactly, but strain, like doing too many push-ups with bad form.
BANG!
[Hit: 9/10]
The last strike came with no warning.
Martin forced his breathing to steady and watched the spearhead all the way in.
He caught it.
BANG!
[Hit: 10/10]
[Wooden Shield (Green): Durability: 5/100]
When the tenth strike ended, Martin stood breathing hard, his shield splintered and barely holding together, but his body untouched.
[You have finished your first tutorial quest.]
[Reward: Shield Mastery Node unlocked: Fortitude Stacks.]
[Perfect blocks (center hits) reduce Fortify cooldown.]
Martin stared at the prompt, breathing hard. His forearm trembled from holding the shield up. Splinters dug into his palm.
I cleared it.
The reward line still hung in the air.
But...
Instead of relief, a familiar irritation crawled up his spine.
In real life, whenever he got tired, he cut corners. He told himself it was fine. He told himself he could make up for it later. That was how he ended up burned out in the first place.
Not here.
If he wanted people to rely on him, he had to be worth relying on.
He looked at the shieldâs chewed-up rim.
Ten strikes.
Ten chances to do it right.
And I kept letting the edge take the hit.
[Would you like to begin the second quest?]
He drew a breath to answer.
From the platform, Rangar called out, "Good. Pride is useful, until it gets you killed. Donât let it."
"No," someone beside Martin said first.
Martin turned. The dual-swords woman.
She didnât sound smug. Just stubborn, like sheâd made the same choice and was daring herself to stick to it.
Martin let out a short laugh and answered too. "No. Not yet. Iâm doing it again until I block all ten clean."
The dual-swords player glanced at him, then at her own dummy. "Same. Iâm landing ten clean criticals before I move on."
Something sharp woke up in Martinâs chest, cutting through the lingering haze.
"Iâll be the first to do it," he said.
"In your dreams," she replied. "Itâll be me."