The Sixth School Ch. 001

Author's note.

No one likes a long Author's note so I'll try to keep this as short and concise as possible.

1). This won't be a straight to the sex scene kind of story. Sure, there'll be a lot of sex in the story, but it'll be weaved into the story rather than the story playing second fiddle to the sex scenes. For those who were looking for a quick wank, I'm sorry to disappoint.

2). Chapters will always be between 3K-5K words long. Rarely, if ever, will they go over or under this range.

3). Feedback from my readers is my fuel to keep writing. If you enjoy my work, please take the time to let me know in the comments or through an email. It does wonders for my motivation to write. Without it, my pacing usually suffers a lot.

4). If you read the chapter, please take the time to rate it. It's just a few clicks of the screen.

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Chapter One: A New World.

Deep in the mountains, in a remote village with only one road in and out of it, a young man was staring dazedly at a line of ants crawling on a wall beside the bed he was lying on. His brain was currently mired in trying to explain something that no logic or science could account for. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the headlights of the truck that had T-boned the small saloon car that he'd been driving. He could feel the force with which most of his organs had been turned to paste and his bones forced out of his body.

Greg had heard of people that had gone through near-death experiences, saying that time seemed to slow down in those moments. He knew that this was the result of adrenaline pushing the body into overdrive. For one to be able to react to a potentially lethal situation, the body was pushed beyond its usual limits and allowed to step into a state that it would otherwise not be able to maintain. Greg's body had been pushed into this state when he first saw the headlights of the truck. His brain had immediately become aware of the fact that something bad was about to happen. However, barely a second later, the truck hit the car he was in. The last conscious thought Greg could remember having was that he was about to die.

This memory was part of why Greg was in a daze as he watched the ants crawling on the wall beside his bed. He should have been dead, he was certain of it. But for whatever reason, here he was. After his death, Greg found himself in what he could only call a black void. How long he stayed there, he couldn't tell. Whether it was a thousand years or just a moment, he didn't know. Space and time somehow seemed to lose meaning in that place. After an indeterminate amount of time in that void, however, Greg felt himself being pulled. With no sense of space or direction, it's hard to say how one could feel the sensation of being pulled. However, that's the closest that Greg could come to describing it. Seeing no need to fight it, Greg allowed it to happen. Next thing he knew, Greg found himself looking up at the roof of a hut.

As he stared dazedly at the roof, unfamiliar memories had been flooding into his mind. It took some time for him to realize that these were the memories of the body he had taken over. It took him three days of slowly going through them for his mind to fully understand who he was and where he was. Luckily for Greg, and unluckily for the previous owner of this body, the hunting party he'd been part of had been attacked by a beast while they had been on a hunting trip with his fellow tribemates. Greg suspected that this attack was the reason the previous owner of this body had died. Had Greg not somehow taken over, then the death of this body would have been final.

Normally, Greg wasn't the kind of person to take pleasure in the misery of others. And he wasn't exactly happy about what had befallen the previous owner of this body. However, the injuries the previous owner had suffered, had given him an excuse that allowed him not to interact with others for a few days as he sorted out his memories. Otherwise, Greg was almost certain that he'd be figured out if he'd been immediately forced to interact with others. And given that this was a world of magic where spirits and possession were not foreign concepts, he wasn't sure what would happen to him if he was suspected of being possessed.

Greg turned his head with difficulty when he heard the door to the small hut he was in open. Given how weak he felt, his lips twitching slightly was the only hint of his attempt at smiling. His eyes quietly followed the voluptuous figure of the woman who walked in. Greg had been eighteen years of age when he died in his previous life. Coincidentally, the young man whose body he'd taken over was also eighteen years of age. As such, Greg could be forgiven for being unable to ignore the sex appeal that was almost literally dripping off the woman that was approaching his bed.

The woman had raven black hair and a face that would have had famous magazines fighting to have her on their cover page. Her massive bust quite prominently pushed against her dress almost as if they were fighting to be free. Her petite waist flared out into wide hips that could tempt the most ardent monks out there. From the few times that Greg had managed to watch her leave his room, he knew that she had an ass that could be the fall of kingdoms. Part of him was glad that he was bedridden otherwise he couldn't trust himself not to reach out and grab it. Just one touch and he'd die the second time around a happy man.

Watching her as she came to a stop by his bedside, Greg couldn't help but feel a strange sense of contradiction as he looked at the woman. On the woman's face was a stern expression. Both in the way she moved and how she carried herself, Greg got the distinct impression that she was a straight-laced person that would brook no nonsense from anyone. Yet, somehow, the scandalously licentious outfit she had on stood in stark contrast to this impression of her. The dress she wore wasn't at all short, the way it clung to her form, however, made it a feat of will for any man not to visually devour her. The deep V of its neckline framed her ample cleavage in such a way that Greg was certain that her tits were breaking some law of physics by not spilling out.

The woman reached forward and pulled off the blanket covering his body. Greg's naked body was exposed to the woman. She, however, barely even reacted. She had the neutral, detached look of a physician looking at a patient as opposed to a woman to a man. To her, his body was a broken specimen that she had to put back together and nothing more. And no wonder. As Greg looked down at himself, he could see several ghastly wounds all across his torso down to his limbs. It was clear that whatever animal he'd fallen victim to, it had done quite a number on him. In a bid to protect itself, probably, his mind couldn't quite clearly recall what animal it was or how exactly he ended up at its mercy. The most he could remember was that he'd been on a hunting trip at the time.

Greg had struggled with believing the memories he'd inherited on taking over this body, especially when it came to the more mystical aspects of this world. This woman, however, was part of the reason Greg had been forced to believe that they weren't hallucinations but actual reality. Greg's eyes dropped to the woman's hands as she started moving them in strange patterns before her. While her hand movements may have seemed random, Greg could quite clearly see that they were anything but. It was almost like a luminescent green ink was flowing out of the tips of the woman's fingers. Greg, however, knew that there was no way that it could have been actual ink as the patterns that she was drawing remained floating in mid-air almost as if there was some invisible canvas there that she was drawing on. Given that the woman had been visiting him three times a day for the past three days, Greg had already memorized the strange pattern that she usually drew in the air.

Greg's eyes followed her hands and fingers, watching as she fluidly completed the rather complex pattern. The completed pattern was a complex sigil composed of about ten different runic symbols all crammed in a circle and yet somehow not touching each other. The moment the pattern was completed, the circle shrunk down to about a tenth of its original size and landed on the woman's right palm. Extending her hand towards him, Greg watched as a green light gushed out of the symbols and spread out over his body.

The effect was immediate. It felt like a thick viscous liquid was covering every inch of his skin leaving him with a cool feeling all over. It wasn't anything dramatic like immediate healing, Greg, however, could feel his wounds slowly getting better. The pain was no longer as sharp, and his torso looked just a bit better than before. From the small beads of sweat that formed on her forehead and the way her right hand shook slightly even as the healer held it towards him, Greg could see that it took quite a bit of effort for her to keep the spell going. Still, the woman's serious air didn't break. Her face remained placid as a lake as she watched the results of her ministrations.

Things remained as such for about three minutes. Despite the struggle of maintaining the output of healing magic, the woman remained stoic even as she continued to administer the treatment. After the third minute, however, the magic that had been flowing out of her began to falter. Like a flickering bulb, the magic started to become intermittent. In the state he was in, Greg couldn't move about much, as such, he could only stay still and watch his healer. This allowed him to note the fact that towards the end, her expression morphed from one who was struggling to one who was in pain. To her credit, the woman had a pretty good poker face. She wasn't grimacing or anything, but the subtle way her jaw clenched and left eye twitched told it all.

When she finally lowered her hand, another minute had already gone by. A frown crossed the woman's face as she studied his body and the wounds that crisscrossed it. She clearly had expected her spell to achieve much more than they seemed to have. "The Beyond strongly calls to you, young one," she murmured. This was the first time the woman had talked to him in the past three days. Greg was immediately aware of the fact that the words hadn't been spoken in the english he knew from his previous life. He, however, seemed to have retained the comprehension of language the previous owner of this body had. As such, he could understand the words spoken by the woman. The woman's statement would have been incomprehensible to Greg back on earth. But in this world, or at least in this small remote village, there were no concepts of heaven or hell. The Beyond is where they believed spirits went after death. In short, she was saying that death was calling to him.

The woman's gaze turned to his own as they locked gazes. "However, just three days ago I was certain that you wouldn't make it," She confessed with a small smile. "The fact that you're here means that you already escaped the grasp of the Beyond," She said. Her gaze once again moved to the wounds covering his body, a small frown once again crossing her features. "The Beyond, however, is not so easily eluded. It seeks to recapture what it has lost," She spoke softly, more to herself than to him. "Rest well," The woman spoke as she reached out and pulled the covers back over him. She then turned around and started moving towards the door. "I'll be back in the evening to heal and wash you," She stated calmly. Having such a hot woman say she'll be back to bathe him, should have been exciting. But from his experiences over the past few days, he knew that there was nothing lewd about what she'd said or planned to do. Still, Greg couldn't help getting a strange thrill hearing it.

Once the woman had left, Greg's gaze turned back to the trail of ants moving up along the wall. But while his gaze was in the direction of the ants, he wasn't actually seeing them. His attention was on something else entirely. As incomprehensible as the situation he found himself in was, it was nothing compared to the thing he was currently looking at. In Greg's vision, was a translucent virtual screen. Written at the top of the screen in glowing bold text were the words:

EROS: THE SIXTH SCHOOL!

Under it was a full progress bar that was now golden and reading one hundred percent beside it. As with the words that the woman had spoken, The words weren't written in any language that Greg knew. For some reason, however, Greg could understand it all. Greg knew that this progress bar was the reason that the woman that had just left his room was having such a hard time healing him. Three days ago, the progress bar had been at zero. But soon as the woman started healing him, it started slowly filling up. The thing had been taking away ninety percent of the power that was meant to heal him and leaving him with only ten percent. That's why it seemed to the healer like death was calling to Greg. While healing magic was a miraculous phenomenon, it couldn't grant one immortality. There were certain diseases and injuries that even the most potent healers were powerless against. With how slowly Greg seemed to be healing, it must have seemed to her like he was in one of those niche cases where even healing magic can't make such a drastic difference, hence her words.

At first, Greg had been confused at this screen that only he seemed to be able to see. Part of him had been certain that he was hallucinating. But when the screen persisted, his thinking had slowly shifted from confusion to curiosity. In the state he was in, there wasn't much he could do about this strange phenomenon. To pointlessly worry would be a waste of time, and so he simply chose not to. If things went south, he'd have to deal with whatever came his way. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Death? Been there, done that!

Greg psyched himself up even as his gaze dropped to the button that had appeared below the progress bar. There was a string of strange symbols on the virtual button, Greg, however, immediately knew what they meant soon as his eyes landed on them.

AWAKEN!

That's what was on the button.

Given that this was an interface that only existed in his mind, Greg did what came naturally to him and tried to click on it with his mind. Part of him had been skeptical that anything would happen. Greg, however, was pleasantly surprised when the words on the virtual screen changed.

WELCOME TO THE SIXTH SCHOOL!

NAME: Roka.

RANK: Virgin.

MAGIC POINTS: 0.

LUST POINTS: 0.

Greg hadn't at all known what to expect so he couldn't exactly say that he was disappointed. The small window that came after he'd clicked on the "AWAKEN" button, however, was a bit underwhelming if he was being completely honest. For the past three days, ninety percent of all the magic meant to heal him had been going to whatever this thing was. To only get five lines of text as the result didn't seem like a worthy exchange as far as Greg was concerned. Aside from the text, he couldn't see any new buttons to click on. Still, Greg tried mentally clicking on every single word and number on the screen. As he'd suspected, however, there was no reaction.

After ten minutes of unsuccessfully trying everything he could think of to get a reaction from the screen, Greg, at last, gave up. With nothing better to do, he turned his attention to the six lines before him. The first one welcoming him to the sixth school made absolutely no sense to him. Greg tried to go through his memories to see if there were any clues there but came up empty. As such, he turned his attention to the next line. There wasn't much mystery with this one as the memories he'd inherited told him that 'Roka was the name of the previous owner of this body. He'd probably change it in the future. Perhaps it's the bias of his previous life, but he'd rather keep his old name. To avoid raising flags, he wouldn't change it immediately, but with time, it'd be on his to-do list.

The third line on the screen was just as confusing as the first line on the interface. Part of the confusion stemmed from the fact that Greg wasn't familiar with any ranking system that had 'virgin' in it. It wasn't a nobility ranking, like Count, Earl, Marquis, and so on. It wasn't a military ranking like Colonel, Sergeant, or general. It wasn't a religious ranking like Deacon, priest, or Bishop. It wasn't even a general ranking like novice, rookie, or pro. It just didn't fit into any kind of ranking that Greg could think of. The other part of why it was confusing was because Greg couldn't see the logic behind this kind of ranking. One was either a virgin or not. What the hell would he become after virgin? Super-virgin?

Greg couldn't help but chuckle slightly at his own joke. The chuckle, however, was short-lived as a pain shot through his side. Greg winced as he was once again reminded of just how wrecked this body was. Whatever beast it was that had done this to him, it most certainly didn't hold back. Greg was still for a few seconds as he allowed the pain to fade away. After it was passed, he turned his gaze back to the screen. Greg couldn't even begin to make heads or tails of what the fourth and fifth lines meant. What were magic and lust points, and how was he supposed to obtain them? It seemed to Greg that this was a crucial detail that should have been explained. No such explanation was forthcoming, however.

A sigh left Greg as he at last lost interest in the screen and actually began watching the ants on the wall. Once he stopped focusing on the screen for a few seconds, the thing began to shrink. From covering the majority of his vision, it shrunk down to about the size of a stamp and drifted to the very edge of his vision. This was something that he'd already encountered before so he wasn't too surprised by it. Once he stopped focusing on the screen for a few seconds, it would dismiss itself and move to the edge of his vision. To summon it once again he'd have to look at the stamp-size screen at the edge of his vision for a few seconds. Once he does that, the translucent screen would once again be enlarged to cover most of his visual field. It wasn't long after Greg began watching the ants that he drifted off to sleep...