Isekai'd Into The Wrong World-Chapter 77: Ch - Tier 1

Arena 3. The space was empty, silent. Stone seats ringed the sandy fighting ground, rising in tiers. Weapon racks neatly lined the wall.

Ryan stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Should we spar? I want to try what I’ve learned."

James shook his head. "Ryan, I’m sorry but I’m itching for a... real fight. Let me and Jared go first, then I’ll help you work on your form after. Deal?"

Ryan tried not to feel stung. "Sure. I’ll watch."

"You’ll learn more from watching anyway," Jared said. "See what proper technique looks like."

James and Jared moved to the center of the arena, wooden swords in hand.

They squared off.

No warning.

James lunged.

Jared sidestepped, blade coming up to deflect. The crack of wood on wood echoed through the empty arena.

Woah, these two are bloody quick!

James pressed forward, aggressive, each strike heavy and committed. Jared circled, defensive, footwork precise. He blocked, deflected, waited.

"Woohoo! Go James!" Ryan called out like a cheerleader.

Their swords were fluid. Combinations Ryan could barely follow—feint, strike, parry, counter. James swung high, Jared ducked and thrust low. James twisted away, brought his sword down in a heavy chop.

James was smiling through the exchange, clearly enjoying himself. "Come on, Jared! You’re getting slow!"

"You always say that," Jared muttered, blocking another strike.

James feinted left, struck right. Jared deflected but stumbled back on a rock, losing his concentration.

With three rapid thrusts. James’s sword tapped Jared’s ribs.

"Dead."

"You’re lucky—there was that rock," Jared said in between heavy breaths.

"Luck had nothing to do with it." James wiped sweat from his forehead. "I’m just better."

"Maybe—in your dreams." Jared said.

Ryan was impressed with both of them, this was the first time he’d seen either brother fight properly.

They fought like they’d been training for years. Which, he supposed, they had.

"Alright," James said, turning to Ryan. "Your turn. Let’s see if you’ve improved since yesterday."

Before Ryan could speak, a voice spoke from the arena entrance.

"Training at dawn on Saturday."

All three of them turned.

An elf stood there. Thin, middle-aged, wearing casual-ish clothes. He hadn’t been there a moment ago... or maybe he had, and they just hadn’t noticed.

He was just... standing there. Not moving.

"Uh," James said. "Good morning, instructor."

The elf didn’t respond immediately. His gaze swept over them slowly, lingering on each face.

"Unusual for first-years. Most take weekends off."

His voice was flat. Quiet.

"We like to stay sharp," Jared said carefully.

The instructor nodded slowly. But said nothing.

An uncomfortable silence stretched.

Ryan shifted his weight. This guy’s odd.

"Do you... need something, sir?" James asked.

"No." Another pause. "I was just passing by and saw some movement. Wanted to ensure the facilities weren’t being... misused."

"We’re just sparring," Ryan said.

"I can see that." The instructor’s eyes fixed on Ryan.

The instructor stood there, silent, still staring at them.

"Actually," James said, breaking the awkward silence, "we were wondering if Ryan could test wether he’s reached tier 1 yet. Do you know where the testing equipment is?"

The instructor blinked. Once. Twice. "Testing equipment. Yes. There are weights in each arena, for this one... Beneath the stands. There’s a door."

He pointed.

"Thanks," Jared said.

The instructor didn’t move. Still watching.

James cleared his throat. "Are you... going to supervise?"

"Do you require supervision?"

"Uh. I don’t know. Do we?"

"Testing should be logged." The elf finally moved, walking down the steps and into the arena. "I will supervise."

He walked past them without another word, heading toward the east side of the seating area.

The three of them exchanged glances.

"Who is that instructor?" Ryan whispered.

"Never seen him before," James muttered. "But hey, at least we can test ourselves."

They followed the instructor beneath the stone seats. Sure enough, there was a door—heavy wood, iron-banded. The instructor pushed it open.

Inside was a torch-lit chamber. Stone walls. Simple. Functional.

And big blocks or balls of stone and other metals.

Three large stone blocks sat on the floor near the entrance, each one roughly carved and massive. Labels marked them: 4 Heft, 5 Heft, 6 Heft.

Further in, three smaller objects made of dull green metal. They looked almost manageable by size. Each were maybe the size of watermelons each growing slightly—but something about them seemed heavy. Dense. 8 Heft, 9 Heft, 10 Heft.

At the far end, three spheres. Dull orange, smooth, about the size of footballs. 16 Heft, 18 Heft, 20 Heft.

Ryan stared. "What does ’Heft’ mean?"

"Are you from another Kingdom?" the instructor said flatly. "Heft is a measurement for weight in this Kingdom..."

"Basically, if you can lift something that weighs 4 Heft, you are a Tier 1 Knight." James said, pointing at the smallest, but still very large, stone block.

James approached the stone blocks. "Alright. Let’s do this properly. Jared, you go first."

Jared stepped up to the 6 Heft stone block. He crouched, gripped the edges, and lifted.

It came up smoothly. Not easy—his arms strained, his legs shook slightly—but he got it to his chest and held it for five seconds before dropping it with a heavy thud.

"Tier 1. High," the instructor said, making a note on a small ledger he’d produced from his robes.

James went next. Same block. Same result but a bit cleaner and with less strain.

"Tier 1. High."

James grinned. "Alright, let’s see if I’m ready for Tier 2."

He approached the smallest green metal object. 8 Heft.

He crouched. Gripped. Pulled.

The object came up—slowly. His face reddened. Arms trembling. He got it to his knees. Then his thighs. Pushing, straining—

It rose. Chest height. Then—

His arms gave out. The metal object dropped with a resonant metal clang.

James stepped back, breathing hard. "Damn."

"Close," the instructor said. "High Tier 1. Half-step Tier 2."

James nodded, still catching his breath. "I’ll get it next time."

"Your turn," Jared said, looking at Ryan.

Ryan swallowed. The stone block looked enormous up close.

He stepped forward. Crouched. Wrapped his hands around the rough edges.

Come on. Those cherry strength boosters can’t have been for nothing.

He pulled.

Heavy.

His back strained.

But it moved. Inch by inch. Off the ground. To his knees. To his waist.

His arms shook violently.

Up. Get it up.

Chest height.

He held it. Three seconds. Five.

Then dropped it.

The stone crashed down. Ryan staggered back, gasping.

The instructor made a note. "Tier 1... barely."

Ryan looked at his hands. They were shaking just like his entire body.

But he’d managed.

James clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Two days, Ryan. Two days and you’re a Tier 1 knight. You must be gifted with strength."

Jared nodded, impressed. "Most people take their entire teenage life."

Ryan managed a weak smile. "I’m just lucky."

"Names?"

"James Kris."

"Jared Kris."

"Ryan Ray," Ryan said.

The instructor wrote them down, then turned and walked toward the door without another word.

"Wait," James called. "That’s it?"

The instructor paused. Looked back. "What else would there be?"

"I don’t know. Congratulations, or like a few words?"

"You lifted weights. I recorded it." The instructor’s expression didn’t change. "Training continues. Tiers improve. Or they don’t."

He left.

The three of them stood there in silence.

"That guy is weird," Ryan said.

"Yeah," Jared agreed.

James laughed. "Who cares? You’re a Tier 1 knight now, Ryan! Let’s go celebrate—after we beat the hell out of each other in sparring, obviously."

Ryan groaned. "Can I catch my breath first?"

"Nope." James was already heading for the door. "Real fights don’t wait for you to be ready."

Ryan followed, legs still trembling, but smiling despite himself.

He was a Tier 1 knight. After two days of training.

Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all.

Though it was definitely all thanks to those Cherry Strength Boosters from the forest.

What they don’t know can’t hurt them.

He greedily soaked up all of the awe the brothers had for him.