13. magic knight Connie

Connie was drinking from what looked like a coconut with a straw when he returned, holding it with one paw while the other remained behind his back. I supposed it could’ve seemed fancy were it not so ridiculous. When he saw us, he did his smile-but-not-quite-just-closed-his-eyes-thing. “Welcome back! We have drinks for everyone.”

Aoko and Yukimura sat on a big coconut, drinking from small coconuts. Meanwhile, a quick glance revealed other groups learning new spells, awakening cheat skills and/or making needlessly showy sword attacks. Tissu and her stupid brother were nowhere to be found. We were going to be the worst ones, weren’t we? But Hisui, ever the optimist, said, “We’ve made a perfect plan.”

Connie’s floppy ears perked up, which I hoped wasn’t an euphemism. “Is that so? Kawakamiaoko, Yuki–”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yukimura hopped off the coconut, placed the drink on it, then stretched. “Let’s finish this thing. I’m in a good mood, so I might let you guys win.”

Aoko rolled her eyes. Me too, Aoko. “Hey, Connie, I thought we were gonna get our classes assigned first.”

“Species, not classes,” Connie corrected.

“Sorry.”

“All good. Sakurahisui, Ishidaseishin. During your absence, one of my co-workers told us that the aforementioned ceremony has commenced. However, I’m looking forward to seeing your plan in action, so we can be fashionably late.”

Yukimura stretched all the way back to the fleshy dummy, saying, “I’m gonna be a high elf, I can just feel it. An ancient half-demon high elf who is a reincarnated god forced to wander this world after trying to destroy it.”

“Or a slime,” Aoko said.

“Silence, insolent fool. You’re talking to a future god.”

…ah, right, he tended to get like this before new campaigns. Tabletop Thursday would’ve been tomorrow, which probably worsened such a pitiful condition.

Soon, we were back in position: Aoko and Yukimura as defenders, Hisui and I as attackers. I just had to wait for her signal to pretend to be berserk, and then… break the shield with a kick? It’d seemed like a solid plan back at the shelter, but I’d also been missing two-thirds of my oxygen intake back then.

The disgusting flesh dummy was enveloped in water again. Hisui shot at me with a finger gun. “Berserk!”

But the flesh dummy began to make squelching sounds. I did not want to touch that thing.

“Berserk berserk berserk! Confuse! Paralyze!”

What was she doing? Was she trying to kill me? Granted, we were just playing pretend but what if? I narrowed my eyes at her, but it was like trying to reach a goldfish to give paw.

Fine–so be it.

If I kicked hard enough, I’d break through the shield.

I thought that, and then… I didn’t kick hard enough; the dummy wobbled like jelly, but that was it.

Well, there went the plan.

“Ha! It’s futile,” Yukimura said. “You’ve already lost. You’re already dead.” Connie hopped towards us with his hands behind his shell. Slowly, he shook his head. “This is why I advised against physical attacks. In this day and age, they are too often, too easily countered by magic. Ishidaseishin, you must give up on–”

I kicked it again, and again I failed.

“–this endeavor if victory is what you seek. I will take this dummy to the inn’s training grounds. Until you two can break it, Kawakamiaoko and Yukimuraisami will remain victors.”

Quite honestly, I didn’t give two shits about winning or losing, but Yukimura’s antics were getting under my skin, which was exactly the point and I knew it.

Why.

Wasn’t.

It.

Working?

Why couldn’t I tap into that weird burst of power again?

“Now,” Connie said, “It’s time for your species assignment ceremony. We’re a little more than fashionably late.”

I got it–of course the kick of a teenager SLIGHTLY BELOW average height would pale in comparison to, say, dragonfire. Of course I wouldn’t be able to punch my way out of a magical blizzard. It made sense. But still.

As Connie began to hop, he rolled the giant coconut in front of him, therefore evolving into a turtle-lizard-rabbit-dung beetle.

Aoko, the uncontested champion, didn’t seem to share her useless comrade’s enthusiasm. She was clearly avoiding eye contact, and when Yukimura raised his hand for a high-five, she pretended not to notice. A good friend might’ve asked what her issue was, but Yukimura just slowed his pace until Hisui caught up to him. “Don’t look so sad,” he told her. “These kinds of tests don’t mean anything in the long run.”

“...I’m not sad.”

“Right, right. Listen, Aoko always gets great base stats, but low rolls. Life is all about balance.”

“No, really,” Hisui said. “I’m not sad.”

They walked in front of me, so I could see Yukimura leer at her from the corners of his eyes. “Whatever. My point is, even if we’re weak right now, that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way forever. Aoko’s fine, but Ishida is useless, so it’s up to you and I to come up with a plan.”

Hisui glanced at me, just for a moment, from the corners of her eyes. “No one here is useless.”

“I mean, you heard Connie. Phys attacks don’t work against magic.”

“But that doesn’t mean..”

“No, no, trust me. It does.”

Upon crossing the entrance into a web of increasingly narrow tunnels, we reached a jarringly magnanimous room with several clusters of outlanders orbiting black, glowing stones the size of a soccer ball. Most groups had an Igasu to babysit them, though a couple had dragonkin instead. Speaking of–Tissu and Sen were nowhere to be seen. Good.

The same girl that’d hounded the dining room yesterday made her rounds to figure out everyone’s species. Slowly, she approached, like the plague. After Connie parked the giant coconut next to the entrance, he said, “It looks like many outlanders have already been assigned. All of you are free to either make it public, or stand in line for a private reveal.”

Hisui immediately raised her hand. “I wanna go first! Me me me! Oh, and Ishida wants a private one.”

“What,” I said, but the crowd thankfully drowned this. Like–yes, I did, but how did she know? And why would she care?

Connie smiled. “Well, how about we let our victors decide instead?”

Funnily, we all just kind of turned to Aoko, who was picking on her cape. It wasn’t until Yukimura nudged her that she said, “Ah!” and then, “Sorry. Um... Sakura can go first.”

“Sakura can go first,” Hisui told Connie. Just in case, I supposed.

Shockingly, Yukimura did not contest this. The problem then became finding an available black stone. It seemed that, though most people had their class–sorry, species–assigned, either no one had told them to make space for those who hadn’t yet, or they just didn’t care. We followed Connie for a minute or two, whose hopping grew increasingly frantic, until he stopped next to another Igasu. “Bonnie,” he said. “Is your group done?”

“Mhm,” replied Bonnie.

“Would you be so kind as to give us space so we can do the ceremony?”

“Why?”

This seemed to stump him. “Why…? So we can do the ceremony…? To get them assigned…?”

“Yeah, but why bother? Your groups always die.”

Bonnie’s group was all-female, it seemed. One of them whispered to the other, who nodded; they giggled.

“Meh. Girls, let’s go.” They went. As they did, the rock stopped glowing. I wasn’t able to discern any difference from any student, so perhaps the species assignment was symbolic after all.

Connie said, “Sakurahisui, your turn. Place your hand on the stone. We’ll know your species depending on what color it takes.”

But it was Hisui’s turn to space off. Given that little exchange just now, I couldn’t blame her. The other two didn’t look much better. As for me… I didn’t care? If we died, we just respawned, right? What were they afraid of, then? Pain?

“...very well. Ishidaseishin, would you be able to stand in line for the private ceremony? I will join you once you’re about to enter the room.”

And it looked as though Connie was just going to let that drop. ‘Very well.’ While standing in line was not in my bingo card of what to do if I got transported to another world, it also meant heading to the corner, so I was more than glad to oblige. Even better: none of the people there were talking.

Yet the guy in front of me had the audacity to look at me funny. I returned the stare, mostly to see if he’d try to pick a fight. It’d be a good way to let out steam if nothing else. But no. He just averted his gaze and turned around. Oh, well.

The room was shaped like a giant dome with a snow-white floor–the same material as the one at the area, most likely–and a roof so intricately painted that it would take hours to pick it apart. Art styles varied wildly, including… cubism? Aoko would know more than me. Funny-looking faces. Lots of mushrooms. Multi-colored ferns. Dragons…? Some fought what appeared to be winged humanoids, but most just kind of walked in that awkward pose shared by all child-drawn dinosaurs.

Aside from the random cubism (?), what caught my attention the most were the manga panels. It looked like I wasn’t the only one, too; the coward in front of me gaped at them with his mouth open. Still, no one commented on it. Had I been a different kind of person, and I would’ve gone back to tell the rest about it.

In that moment, I wished I was one.

I was so entertained by the bizarreness of it all that I didn’t even notice I was next, and I only did so because Connie reached out to pat my hand. I hadn’t even noticed his arrival. “The rest of the group has already been assigned,” he said. “Are you enjoying the artwork?”

After pulling my hand to myself, I nodded.

Connie looked up, too. “I quite enjoy it myself, although it’s very… disjointed.”

To put it lightly.

“The human-like creatures with bug-like wings are fairies. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen one in person…”

As the guy from before walked out, dejected, he left the door open for me–for Connie and I, it seemed; an Igasu hopped not too far behind him. She also looked dejected.

“Shall we?” Asked Connie.

I couldn’t get a grasp of this… entity. More than gentle, his cordiality felt curated at best, hollow at worst. I couldn’t tell if he’d liked the results from the others or not. I couldn’t tell if he was looking forward to me dying so his group could be slightly less shitty. “Do you have to go in?” I asked.

Connie nodded.

“Why?”

“Well, Ishidaseishin, I am your guide.”

“Why?”

“I was assigned–”

“No. Why…” I swallowed. “Never mind.”

The ‘door’ was a scrap of white fabric covering another floating stone in an otherwise empty, unsettingly white room. I hadn’t noticed until then, but our steps had no echo. Connie stopped before the stone. “Place your hand above it.”

“...what if…”

Connie watched me.

“If… never mind.”

“Are you afraid, Ishidaseishin?”

Apparently. I didn’t even know why. With my luck, I’d get something like ‘dung beetle goblin’ and have to live with that label until… until…?

“Remember that we’re here because you wished for the results to be confidential. If you so desire, only you and I will know your result.”

I nodded.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“But…”

“But? Tell me.”

If he’d added ‘please’, I wouldn’t have bothered, but something about his exasperation made it easy to talk for some reason. “What if I get a bad one?”

Connie ‘smiled’. “That’s what you’re afraid of? Don’t worry, Ishidaseishin. That would imply that there are good and bad species.”

I placed my hand on the stone. “But didn’t you say that the, uh…”

“...theriantrope…”

I nodded. “Didn’t you say they’re bad earlier… um, what is it?”

“What?”

“W-what?” The stone glowed yellow. I had no idea what that meant, but those huge fuchsia eyes growing even wider did not bode well.

“That is your species,” Connie said. “Theriantrope.”