15
Vander Braxton (D- Rank)
Class: Basic (Tier 0)
Title(s): Unlucky Reincarnator, One With Potential, Successor of the Pinnacle Hunter, Successor of the Braxton House
Strength: 329 (+75)
Agility: 336 (+75)
Endurance: 381 (+75)
Willpower: 328 (+75)
Perception: 384 (+75)
Arcana: 465 (+75)
Skill Points: 0
Skills:
True Lightning Proficiency (Level 17), Quiet Steps (Level 28), Running (Level 24), Climbing (Level 9), Tracking (Level 27), Spearmanship (Level 15), Throw (Level 21), Meditation (Level 68), Herbology (Level 12), Trap Making (Level 17), Archery (Level 9), Braxton Breathing Technique (Level 36), Braxton Sword Arts (Level 1), Magic Body (Level 25), Swordsmanship (Level 57)
The Crucible’s gains were enormous, Vander couldn’t deny. However, he felt hollow. Adrian’s departure didn’t feel real. Vander didn’t know when he’d become so attached to the man’s presence, but now that he’d left, it almost felt like he’d taken a piece of Vander with him. The weight of a mountain pressed on his shoulders and chest. Indomitable and suffocating.
Breathing was a challenge. Moving too. Even hours later, he still stood in the same spot. The wind brushed against his skin, chilling him to the bone, and the song of swaying grass felt like a haunting tune. His heart ached. All that kept him together was knowledge of his dad’s true might. Despite that, dread clung to his heart. A dread of loss. Not quite abandonment but something close. Something he struggled to fight off.
Soft arms wrapped around his stomach and broke him of his reverie. Smooth like silk, Vanessa crooned to him. No words need be said between the two as Vander experienced a pain he thought himself incapable of anymore. Yet, there it was, roaring its head like an angry viper.
He didn’t break down and cry, didn’t slump to the ground and wail at the injustice of life. Didn’t blame anybody but himself. If he were stronger, nothing could stand in his way. If he were stronger, the Zealots would pose no threat. Nor would The Mad God. He was weak, acknowledged that fact, and gently freed himself from Vanessa’s warm embrace.
“Thank you.”
Vander turned and walked away. Numb, the path and surrounding grasslands blurred. Instinct carried him forward past trees, into the encampment, and then past. He heard the others, but even that blended into the background noise of the great forest.
An undeniable fact, an insurmountable truth. His weakness, even if a result of others’ choices made for him, restricted him. Restrained the freedom to experience the world to its fullest and limited his options, forced him to stay on Ainos in fear of being hunted by Zealots. Forced him to remain cowed and sequestered away.
But he wouldn’t let that fact keep him down. He would train, fight, kill. Anything in his way had to go, a stepping stone for his path of freedom in this life. May it be a beast of The Snarl, Zealot, or any other obstacle, he would overcome. No matter how insurmountable the trial, the tribulation, he’d bring pride to the Braxton name and earn his freedom.
To do so, he needed specific information.
Braxton Sword Arts (Level 1)
A great magic swordsmanship technique created by an ancestor of the Braxtons. Renowned as one of the three great techniques of its era, the way of magic and the way of the sword are intertwined seamlessly.
Requirements:
True Lightning Proficiency (Level 17/10)
Braxton Breathing Technique (Level 36/25)
Magic Body (Level 25/25)
Swordsmanship (Level 57/50)
Class: Tier 0/1
Techniques: (Locked)
I thought he only said there were four requirements? Is this why he talked about classes with me? Vander didn’t understand the reasoning behind obscuring that particular piece of information, but he didn’t have it in him to care all too much at that very moment. Just another thing to add to his to do list. Next.
Displaying requested Magic Body properties:
Passive Mana Restoration: 150 mana an hour
Active Mana Restoration: 900 mana an hour
Mana Capacity: 300
Each integrated skill appeared to get a small boost of close to one-fifth from being merged into an Empower Cumulative skill. While he could’ve leveled each individually for more attributes with the use of his One With Potential title, the Sword Arts was regarded highly across all of Varoth—even the system said as much.
So having a magic body went without question. Plus, rather than train each individually, he could now train all of the skills in tandem with higher efficiency values, even though it required more concentration. Much more his style. Grinding each one had been a pain. Pros and cons, where the pros were heavily skewed in his favor.
Looking at the prompt, he felt the hint of a headache as he tried applying the breathing technique. Rather than go through all that math and waste time, he prompted the system to modify the requested properties with the breathing technique factored into the equation.
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Displaying requested Magic Body properties:
Passive Mana Restoration: 1230 mana an hour
Active Mana Restoration: 4140 mana an hour
Mana Capacity: 300
Okay, that seems a little imbalanced. Passive mana regeneration is one mana every three seconds, and active is more than one per second? Conclusion: the Braxton Breathing Technique was overpowered. He eyed the locked sword arts with wide eyes. Just how much does using that cost? What the hell?
A gut feeling told him the answer was a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. He’d become a mana battery at this point.
Wait… If I just take the old man’s base skill levels, what would his mana regeneration look like? His breathing technique was level three-eighty-three, magic body at sixty-three. Using his own level gains likely would result in a number far lower than Adrian’s actual capabilities, but…
Displaying theoretical properties:
Passive Mana Restoration: 8 mana a second
Active Mana Restoration: 24 mana a second
At first, Vander thought the system broke. Eight and twenty-four mana per second, respectively? Didn’t seem quite right, just from looking at his own values. The realization struck a whole minute later after he stared at the prompt, dumbfounded.
He’s a fucking monster. Mana an hour wasn’t even comparable to mana a second. Like night and day, heaven and hell. But with a level sixty-three magic body, Adrian’s mana storage was highly lacking in comparison to the monstrous regeneration—though, Vander couldn’t say how many other methods of increasing mana capacity there were. But if I take this into consideration, then… could it be that the family sword arts prioritizes regeneration over storage?
There were too many things about the world he didn’t know, and he’d yet to cast a real ability. His own mana capacity of three hundred could be a drop in the bucket, or it could be monstrous. He had nothing to really compare to, and nobody was jumping at the bit to reveal all their strengths and weaknesses to him either.
Conveniently timed, Zekiel headed towards him. Vander expanded the comparison details as he’d done before and grinned.
Zekiel Tamaranth
Class Tier: Higher
Skill Level: Same
Equipment Rating: Higher
Other: Higher
Rather than be gapped in all aspects by the similar aged adventurer, they now had similar skill levels. The thought to request a fight came as fast as it went. Even if their skill levels were now similar, he lacked in every other way. And if he’d learned anything recently, class advancement mattered. Even if he didn’t know why, something about it would propel him forward in ways he’d never experienced before.
Though, he wondered if advancing his class tier would reward him as the Crucible had. Probably not, but he couldn’t be certain. Not with how things had turned out recently. The speed in which his eighteen years of hunting and physical training became meaningless before a few days of magical training still left him dizzy, then everything with Adrian. And Vanessa. And the rest of the adventurers.
He almost missed the secluded lifestyle of hunting. Almost. Now that he had magic at his fingertips again, he’d not trade it for much.
“Heyo, Vander,” Zekiel greeted, waving. Chipper as always and curved sword in hand, he passed without another word, made it three steps, then immediately backtracked. Pursed lips and dead fish eyes appraised him from head to toe. The adventurer poked and prodded rib, calf, neck, and so much more in the span of a few seconds while Vander was left caught off guard. “This isn’t even fair.”
“Are you done?” Vander almost growled as he glared. “Ever heard of personal space?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking Vanessa that?” He sounded bitter. Like a guppy, his mouth flapped open several times, only to close just as quick. At some point, he gave up on trying to speak and walked over to an oak. “Mother. Fucking. Fuckers!”
Yellow-orange coated his curved sword as he struck against the oak. Unlike before when he’d simply used his swordsmanship, he carved the tree properly. Chunk after chunk flew away, but Zekiel didn’t seem to notice where the chips landed—nor did he seem to give a single shit.
“Why’s he so riled up?” Vander muttered, ignoring the cranky adventurer after. Even if he struck the tree all day, he’d never take it down. Not even if he struck it for a year—no, ten. The damned things were solid, through and through, with mana as dense as the ocean. “Anywhos.”
Class assessment. The most pressing thing on Vander’s mind and last requirement for using the sword arts. And if what Adrian said, maybe even a class advancement after that. If attributes were all it took, he had more than enough.
Class Assessment available.
Sacrifice 100 of each attribute.
Begin?
Let’s do it.
Strength: 329/100
Agility: 336/100
Endurance: 381/100
Willpower: 328/100
Perception: 384/100
Arcana: 465/100
Qualifications met!
You have sacrificed 100 of each attribute!
New Strength total: 204
New Agility total: 211
New Endurance total: 256
New Willpower total: 203
New Perception total: 259
New Arcana total: 365
Seeing the reduction, Vander wanted to smack himself. He hadn’t thought about how the reduction of his arcana would affect the rest of his attributes and paid a greater price than he’d anticipated.
It’s worth it. Definitely. Let’s not think about how many skills I’ll have to level up to get back all those attributes! Onward and upward, the only way forward. Sometimes sacrifice was necessary and, in this case, completely unavoidable.
Commencing Class Assessment.
Good luck!