You have completed Wave 5, Stage 2 Boss Variant.
Rewards:
- Stone of Choice, spirit weapon.
At first, I expect a system window—the usual crisp, artificial glow. Instead, the words crawl into my vision, jagged and raw, like they’ve been carved straight into my skull with a dull knife.
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A PERSONAL MESSAGE
Layton,
Many have found great rewards by charging headfirst into the unknown. Sometimes, though, wisdom lies in temperance. Which will you choose?
Set a Wrong Right
or
Venture into the Unknown
- An interested observer
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I blink.
What the hell?
The message lingers in my vision, pulsing slightly. A choice?
"Set a Wrong Right"… My gut twists. A wrong? Which wrong? The tutorial? The busted failsafe? Something I don’t even remember?
My hands clench. What if this was a reset button? What if I could undo it—erase Healer for good?
The thought sinks its claws into me, whispering all the things I want to hear. A reset. A clean slate.
My fingers twitch. Just say the words—
No.
I rip free before it swallows me whole. That path is done. Over. This world feels like a game, but there are no save points. No retries. It felt wrong.
Choices were final. Mistakes were permanent. I would make my class work.
"Venture into the Unknown"…
This isn’t just my choice—it’s who I am.
I set my jaw. “I choose Venture into the Unknown.”
The system flashes, updating. Another letter materializes.
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I had a suspicion this would be your choice.
Your willingness to walk into the unknown, to light the way for others, is praiseworthy.
You have been awarded a second class: Fighter.
Had you chosen “Set a Wrong Right,” the system’s failsafe would have been restored.
Some things were meant to stay broken.
Good luck, Layton. I will be watching.
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I stare at the words. My lungs lock up. This isn’t just a skill boost—it’s a game-changer. Did the system just…speak to me? No. Doesn’t matter.
For a heartbeat, I don’t even breathe. My mind races. A second class. A second path.
No way. No freaking way.
I have a second class.
I HAVE A SECOND CLASS!
SUCK IT, tutorial! Who's the accidental Healer now?!
I throw my fists in the air, half-laughing, half-shouting. This is unreal.
A second class?! That’s the kind of reward I’ve only dreamed about.
Two classes. Finally, I’m not just stuck playing nurse. I pull up my status screen.
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THE FIGHTER CLASS UNLOCKED
Fighter (Level 1)
Abilities:
* Piercing Shot – Extends a sword’s piercing characteristic beyond its physical length. Scales with Strength/Agility.
* Dash – Temporarily boosts speed over short distances. Potency increases with Agility.
A system prompt blinks:
Unique circumstances detected. Calibrating…
Calibration complete.
Your classes will now level simultaneously until the level cap is reached.
To compensate for additional class stats, more EXP will be required per level.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
I exhale, staring at the screen. This is insane. My mind races with visions of unstoppable stat growth and new skill synergies.
I’m grinning like an idiot when the words echo back: "I will be watching."
A chill licks up my spine. Watching…? Who’s watching?
A shadow of unease flickers at the edge of my thoughts, but excitement crushes it down.
“So many possibilities…”
Then, my vision pulses—another system message. I had almost forgotten.
Another reward.
I crack my knuckles, grinning.
Let’s see what else this world has for me.
I navigate to the Rewards tab.
Unique Weapon Selection:
You have been awarded a Spirit Weapon, a mana construct that grows with its bonded owner.
Growth paths will be determined by the owner’s characteristics.
Should your Spirit Weapon be destroyed, it will reconstruct over time by absorbing ambient mana.
The higher the weapon’s level, the longer the reconstruction.
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A list appears:
Mace, Longsword, Shortsword, Longbow, Quarterstaff, Crossbow, Claymore, Morning Star…
The answer is obvious the moment I see it. No hesitation.
“I choose the longsword.”
The system confirms.
You have chosen a longsword.
All Spirit Weapons begin at Level 1 but will gradually absorb ambient mana to match the level of the bonded owner.
Anticipation crackles through my veins, white-hot and restless. This is real. This is mine.
A second class and a Spirit Weapon? I feel unstoppable. Almost. I’ve thought that before—right before nearly dying. No more getting ahead of myself.
Then—the air warps, bending around something unseen. The void stirs. A shape takes form—floating, humming with unseen energy.
A sword. Not just any sword. It feels like it belongs to me—like it always has. An extension of who I am.
The moment I wrap my hand around the hilt, something clicks. Like I just reached out… and found something that was reaching back.
The longsword rests in a sleek, black scabbard, capped with a polished metal tip.
I sling the scabbard over my back, then draw the blade. Light dances along the blade’s edge, sharp as a whisper—deadly as a promise.
I give it a few practice swings. The air hums, like a tuning fork.
Adrenaline surges. The grip molds to my palm, perfectly balanced—like an extension of my own body. This power is real. Now it’s small. A flicker. But it will grow.
I can’t wait to test it. To carve my name into this world. The dungeon closes. The trial is over. And now?
I’m free.
But before I can move, a system prompt snaps into view—
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Congratulations on completing your trial dungeon!
You have unlocked new objectives.
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Stake Your Claim:
You have started down the path of claiming a region in your name.
Claiming a region unlocks new region capabilities and functions.
Complete objectives to claim your region.
Objective: Clear the 3 dungeons in your region.
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I read it twice. Territory. Actual, system-recognized land—mine to control. The thought thrums in my chest, sharp and heady. But then, the other thought forces its way in. Where are my parents?
The first tutorial nearly broke me. I can still hear the wet crunch of bone, the way my club bit deep, the fight-or-die weight of every swing. The thought of my parents facing that same hell knots my stomach.
Dad can protect Mom. He’s resourceful. Tough. I shift my weight, scuffing the dirt with my boot. A hollow feeling gnaws at my ribs.
But how bad has it gotten outside this trial? I barely had any time to explore before Mischief. From where I’m standing the forest is quiet and peaceful. Wind dances through the trees, sweeping across the tall grass in the clearing. It’s now back to its old pristine nature after the trial closed.
No. That’s not right. This place never changed. The trial wasn’t here—it was somewhere else, a different layer of reality. And now, I was back where I started, like nothing had ever happened.
The silence is unnatural. Too perfect. Like the world is pretending nothing ever happened. I guess I had assumed it would be more chaotic and violent once I left the chaos spawn waves behind. Wasn’t that the point of the trial?
Maybe? Maybe not. I had made my own assumptions on limited knowledge. Charging ahead blind—is that bravery, or just the quickest way to die?
Even if I tried—how would I find Boise? No landmarks. No direction. Just endless wilderness.
No car. No map. No way to even know if they’re out there.
I peer into the clear blue sky above. I shake my head.
Or would it be smarter to get stronger first, then go searching with a real plan?
I should look for them first. Right? But what if I can’t? What if I find nothing but ruins? What if I’m too weak? The thoughts coil tight in my chest. Excuses, or just the truth?
Was I worried? Definitely. Lonely? No question. But part of me wanted this too. Not just survival. Not just escape. A claim. A foundation. A foothold in something bigger than me.
I could already see it. A sprawling magical city. The buildings and homes would creep up the mountain side nestled safely behind towering walls. Defended by warriors in gleaming plate, banners snapping in the wind.
The image burned in my mind, perfect and impossible. I chuckled—right now, my ‘kingdom’ was a patch of dirt and a cat who might be plotting my murder.
If Dad saw me now, he’d lose his mind. Two classes. A magic sword. And me, talking like I’m about to build a kingdom from dirt. He’d probably be geeking out with me right now.
I start pacing, forcing myself back to reality. Time for hard facts.
One day. Twelve levels. Power growing in leaps and bounds. If this is what a single day brought me, what could a week do? A month? A year?
I clench my fists, exhaling slow. This world won’t wait for me. I need more answers first.
Time to move. First step—review my gains.
I swipe open my status screen and allocate my points:
* +2 Constitution
* +2 Strength
* +1 Agility
* +3 Wisdom (Healer bonus)
I exhale.
New class. New weapon. New world.
And I’m just getting started.