A solemn stillness settled within the "Dimensional Experience Center" after everyone finished sipping their Ashen Tea. The cold vapor rising from the cups danced in the air, forming a thin layer of mist over the wooden floor. Rakan and Elina stood quietly, watching Cale and Myra, who gazed at the metallic capsules with a mixture of awe and trepidation.
"One hour per person," Leon said, wiping the counter with a white cloth, his voice echoing with calm confidence. "Since we only have two units, Cale and Miss Myra will begin first. Rakan, Miss Elina, you may rest in the corner and have more tea until your turn arrives."
Cale, the massive warrior accustomed to facing beasts in the forests of Astoria, stepped forward and sat on the edge of the capsule. His hand trembled slightly—not from fear of combat, but of the "unknown." Beside him, Myra swallowed hard as she adjusted the helmet, her eyes searching for reassurance in Elina's face.
"Remember," Elina whispered to Myra as she helped position her head, "death there is not the end... it is the only teacher. Do not fight the light; embrace the cold."
With a click of a button from Leon, the metallic lids hissed shut, and the souls of the novices were cast into the world of "Lordran."
Part I: The Novice's Shock (Cale & Myra)
Inside the simulation, Cale found himself in a desolate stone cell. The air was heavy with the scent of ash, and the cold was not merely a drop in temperature; it felt like invisible needles piercing his skin.
"What is this mockery?" Cale shouted, looking down at his frail body and tattered rags. "Where is my silver armor? Where is my Great Axe?"
The only response was the clink of rusted shackles. He charged out of the cell with his usual bravado to face the first Hollow. Cale attempted a powerful punch, only to discover that the weight of the air and his weakened frame prevented him from moving swiftly. The monster, with its broken sword, plunged the blade into Cale's chest.
"AAARGH!" Cale's scream echoed through the corridors. The pain was so sharp he felt his heart stop. He collapsed, gasping, as virtual blood coated his hands. "This... this is no training... this is hell!"
On the other side, Myra was living a similar nightmare. The mage who was used to casting fireballs from a safe distance found herself trapped in a narrow corridor with a creature crawling toward her. She tried to summon her magic, but my mana fluctuated violently.
"Elina... help me!" Myra screamed, retreating until she hit the cold wall. As the beast tore into her shoulder, Myra felt her consciousness waver.
Outside the capsules, Leon monitored the screens calmly. He watched Cale's heart rate skyrocket and the "Death Counter" tick upward. "Cale has died ten times in ten minutes," Leon muttered, pouring himself a cup of tea. "He's trying to fight like a raging bull, and Lordran has no mercy for bulls."
Part II: The Broken Exit and the Masters' Entry
When the hour concluded, the capsules hissed open. Cale emerged staggering; he fell to his knees, retching cold air, his eyes filled with terror. Myra stepped out weeping silently, clutching her shoulder as if the wound were still there.
"It crushed me... that small thing crushed me like a bug," Cale whispered in disbelief.
Rakan stepped forward and clapped his friend firmly on the shoulder. "Stand up, Cale. I warned you. You don't fight there with your muscles, but with your focus. Look at my mana now—don't you feel it has become more 'dense'?"
Cale looked at his hands. Despite the terror, he noticed the instability in his golden mana had diminished, and his aura had become significantly more stable.
"Our turn now," Elina said, setting her cup aside and heading toward the capsule Myra had just vacated. "Watch closely, everyone. Lordran is not conquered by force, but by patience."
Rakan and Elina reclined in the capsules. Leon noted the stark contrast; their features were composed, their breathing rhythmic. With a button press, the "Professionals" entered the arena.
Part III: The Dance of Ash (Rakan & Elina)
The moment Rakan entered, he didn't waste a second. He moved through the corridors like a phantom. When he faced the monsters that had pulverized Cale, he didn't blink. He waited for the beast's first move, then with a simple side-step—learned from his repeated deaths the day before—he delivered a killing blow to the back of the head.
Rakan reached the Asylum Demon. The gargantuan beast roared and swung its hammer. Rakan didn't flee; he rolled into the strike, utilizing the "invincibility frames" of a perfect dodge to appear behind the monster and stab its ankle.
"Today... you won't crush me again," Rakan growled, leaping away from a backswing.
Meanwhile, Elina practiced a different kind of sorcery. She no longer tried to summon explosions. She moved through the prison with grace, using the corridor walls to funnel the enemies. When she faced the Demon, she remained unfazed. She used the cold "Ashen Magic" she discovered yesterday to freeze the ground beneath the beast's feet, causing it to stagger, then unleashed a volley of precise Soul Arrows into its eye.
Leon, watching the screen, couldn't help but smile. "This is the 'rhythm' of players. Rakan is beginning to understand 'Timing,' and Elina is starting to master 'Environment.' Both have reached Rank 2 Apprentice within minutes."
Epilogue: The Birth of the Ash-Comrades
When Rakan and Elina emerged, their auras were entirely different. They didn't come out broken like Cale and Myra; they radiated a cold, concentrated power.
"Owner," Rakan said, wiping sweat with a victorious grin, "I took half that Demon's health today. Tomorrow... tomorrow I'll drop his head at your feet."
Elina turned to the still-shocked Myra. "Myra, the pain you felt is the price you pay to purify your soul. Look at your magic now."
Myra tried to summon a light orb. To her amazement, the orb was twice as pure and stable as anything she had produced at the Academy.
Leon watched the four of them gathered around the tea machine, discussing monsters, strike patterns, and dodge timings. The shop had transformed from a "game store" into a miniature "War Academy."
"Master Cale, Miss Myra," Leon said, gathering the cups, "do not grieve your deaths today. Every death in Lordran is a new life in Astoria. Return tomorrow; the Ashen Tea will be waiting."
The four of them left the alley, walking with a strange swagger. Warriors and Mages walking side-by-side—a rare sight in Astoria. They no longer cared for the scorching sun; the chill of Lordran still resided in their souls.
Half an hour later, as Leon was back in the simulation fighting the Asylum Demon, a new System prompt suddenly flashed:
[Alert: High energy signature detected approaching the alley. 'Baros,' Captain of the Guard, is en route to investigate the source of this cold magic.]
Leon exited the capsule and shut off the shop lights, leaving only a single lamp over his desk. He whispered with the smile of a player anticipating a challenge: "Welcome to the Law... let's see if your silver armor can protect you from the Demon's hammer."