(S1) Chapter 11 – First Death

  “Aaaaaaaaahhh!”

  Henry collapsed onto the cabin floor, his body jerking uncontrollably as if it could still feel the moment the giant’s tree slammed him into the frozen ground.

  A message hovered somewhere in his vision, but his eyes were too blurry with tears to read it.

  Pain flooded his senses.

  It felt like his bones were still breaking.

  His muscles still screaming.

  The agony seemed endless.

  But after a few minutes, the trembling slowly began to fade. Only small shocks ran through his body now and then.

  Henry lay there gasping for breath.

  The pain vanished just as suddenly as it had come. Like it had never existed.

  With shaking hands, he wiped the tears from his eyes and forced himself to focus on the message floating in front of him.

  You Have Died

  You were killed by a Frost Giant.

  As this is your first death, no penalties will be applied.

  Henry stared at the message.

  Wasn’t that amount of pain penalty enough?

  His body still felt like jelly as he slowly crawled toward the loveseat near the fireplace.

  After several attempts, he managed to pull himself onto it.

  “What just happened…?”

  He replayed the events in his mind.

  The desert.

  Writing a class name in the sand.

  The environment changing.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The class trial.

  And then—

  The Frost Giant.

  Henry shivered as the memory of being frozen solid and the giant lifting the tree before—

  The impact.

  Like a bug being smashed beneath a boot.

  His body trembled again.

  Henry leaned back against the loveseat, letting the sound of the snowstorm outside and the crackling fire calm his racing heart.

  A soft chime echoed through the cabin as Layla’s cheerful voice followed.

  “Your friend Colin is calling. Would you like to answer?”

  “Y-yes,” Henry replied shakily.

  The call connected instantly.

  “Henry! How’s it going?” Colin asked. “Did you figure anything out?”

  Henry opened his mouth but then closed it. He wanted to celebrate the discovery of the desert trial.

  But the memory of dying still lingered too vividly.

  “Henry?” Colin asked. “Are you alright?”

  Henry sighed.

  “I just died, Colin.”

  “…What?”

  “And it was the most agonizing thing I’ve ever felt.”

  “How?!” Colin exclaimed. “The desert never killed us before!”

  Taking a deep breath, Henry explained everything from finding out about writing classes in the sand up to the frost giant.

  Colin went silent for several seconds.

  “The sand! Of course it was the sand!”

  Henry blinked. “What?”

  “That’s why the desert exists!” Colin said excitedly. “It’s the key to the entire trial!”

  Colin laughed.

  “Think about it! Any class you can imagine could be possible!”

  “Not exactly,” Henry replied. “You still have to complete the class trial.”

  Colin hummed thoughtfully.

  “And higher ranked classes probably have harder trials.”

  “Harder?” Henry muttered. “That giant was impossible.”

  Another shiver ran down his spine.

  Colin began pacing on the other end of the call.

  “Maybe the point isn’t to create the most powerful class.”

  Henry frowned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe it’s about creating a personal class,” Colin continued.

  “Think about it. Everyone else in the game picks from the same classes.”

  “But by entering the hidden door in Real Mode…”

  “…we get to create something unique.”

  Henry slowly nodded.

  “So instead of choosing the strongest class…”

  “…we choose something that represents us.”

  “Exactly!” Colin said excitedly.

  “By the way, how many class names did you test?”

  Henry thought about it.

  “Maybe five.”

  “Then we might not have unlimited attempts,” Colin said.

  Henry’s stomach dropped.

  “You think the system limits how many trials we can start?”

  “It would make sense,” Colin replied. “So next time you log in, choose carefully.”

  Silence settled over the room before they both said their goodbyes. Colin sounded more excited to try for himself.

  Henry leaned back against the loveseat.

  He closed his eyes and tried to think about what class he truly wanted.

  But instead of personal ideas…

  Only powerful classes came to mind.

  Henry groaned and rubbed his face.

  “Focus.”

  He thought about his life.

  Working at a repair shop.

  Raising Ava.

  Fixing machines.

  Maybe I should go with a class that builds things.

  He shook his head at the thought.

  It just didn’t feel right.

  Henry continued to think when a memory surfaced.

  It was a memory of his mother reading softly beside his bed.

  He couldn’t remember her face. He had been too young when she died.

  Still, her voice rang softly in his ears.

  She used to read to him every night—stories before bed.

  But there was one story he loved more than all the rest.

  “What was that book called…?”

  Henry stood up and began pacing.

  “The little… the little…”

  Then his eyes widened.

  “The Little Magic Knight.”

  A smile slowly formed.

  “That was my favorite book.”

  The memory of his mother’s voice reading the story filled him with warmth.

  He glanced toward the snowy window.

  His body trembled slightly.

  What if it happens again?

  He took a deep breath.

  “Layla,” he said.

  “Yes, Henry?”

  “Log me back into the game.”