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Cataclysm Rising [Returnee Hero LitRPG]
B1 | Chapter 04: Class and Core

B1 | Chapter 04: Class and Core

image [https://i.imgur.com/K6hmvmK.png]

You have chosen [Sovereign] as your [Ambition]!

Please select your [Aspect] from the following:

[Aspect: Bannerlord]

Honor and Glory

The Bannerlord strides to war at the head of their army, uncaring for odds or poor conditions. They are the eye of the storm, the heart of the army, and the living symbol of their nation’s fighting spirit.

[Aspect: Lancer]

Thunder and Wrath

The Lancer drives forth into the enemy lines at the head of their forces, thundering across the battlefield to deliver wrath at the end of a soulbound weapon.

[Aspect: Warmonger]

Power and Ferocity

The Warmonger revels in the brutality of war, and executes their manifold skills with ruthless intensity. Power is the currency of their might, and ferocity is the fuel through which their ambition is realized.

[Aspect: Hussar]

Pride and Valor

The Hussar conducts themselves with noble pride and peerless valor, and strides into war as an exemplar of noblesse oblige. In the Hussar’s presence, noble bearing is given form and identity.

[Aspect: Duelist]

Precision and Elegance

The Duelist foregoes grand gestures to instead focus on surgical and precise engagements. They are the apex predators of single combat, and deliver death with a monarch’s elegance.

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“Affinity, Archetype, Ambition, and Aspect? Consistency is one thing, but that almost seems like a stretch,” Leonidas said skeptically while perusing the presented options. “Discipline? Advanced Class? Either of those would have worked.”

The screen made no reply, and he snorted in amusement at his own little jab. The apocalypse the System had wrought upon Earth was something he, apparently, was responsible for—and if he was able to eke out any sort of derision toward the omnipresent framework that now apparently governed his reality, he was going to make the most of it.

“Still. Aspect, huh?” he murmured while reading through the options. “This one seems easy, too.”

Lacking any earth-based equivalents, he used Elatra as a measuring stick and determined his experience there landed somewhere between Bannerlord and Hussar. As the Hero, and gifted with as much power as he had been; there was more than just room for him to flex, but also an expectation for him to do so.

Demonstrating his power in an open and dramatic way had been a key point in motivating and uniting the disparate Elatran forces that had stood behind him. When his campaign to defeat Azrageth began in earnest, he’d relied on such shows of overwhelming force, and the clear power they demonstrated, to see him through over the course of the five years.

It had served the dual purpose of inspiring the troops of the Grand Alliance, and ensuring that nobody cooked up any bright ideas about rebellion or leadership change. The fact such an event had happened anyway was, admittedly, more the fault of his own naivety than it was the lack of demonstrable might: he’d trusted the wrong people, and they’d been both greedy enough and stupid enough to think him a manageable threat.

Given the fact they’d been fighting a war against the literal legions of Hell, Leonidas had afforded no leniency or mercy to the traitors, and had ensured—though he’d taken no pleasure in the act—that their treason would not be repeated. After delivering their punishments in plain sight of his entire army and the High Council, all thoughts of betrayal were firmly banished from the minds of the Alliance.

The memories of what he’d done still gave him nightmares, sometimes.

His companions had helped to soothe away the guilt and horror at what he’d done, and let him accept that it had been necessary to save the rest of Elatra—but they hadn’t been the ones to inflict the punishment. Leonidas’s hands were the ones which had delivered the ‘justice’ they’d been sentenced to, and his hands were the ones stained by the brutality of the action.

Since that day, no one in the Alliance had looked at him the same way, and ironically it was likely why the Council had decided to send him back.

If so, he couldn’t fully blame them. Had he been on Earth before the System Incursion, and done the same thing, the U.N. would likely have demanded his arrest, taken him to The Hague, and thrown him into the deepest, darkest hole they could find.

The fact that, had he retained his powers as the Hero; no Earth prison could hope to hold him was a separate matter entirely. It was also a tangent, and one he needed to stop venturing down mentally. He was distracting himself from his decision, partially out of mounting exhaustion for what had happened to him since he’d returned—which was draining in and of itself—and partially out of trepidation for what would happen when he actually made his decision.

“Stop dithering,” he muttered to himself bracingly. He was only distracting himself by contemplating such scenarios. Perhaps as a way to delay the decision he had to make, fearing what would happen once it was done.

He already knew what he was going to choose, anyway.

Lancer and Warmonger wouldn’t be helpful to him in the new environment he was in. Leonidas was no Hero this time. He was just a dude on Earth trying to navigate its post-apocalyptic reality. If he wanted to do that in a way that was survivable, relying on standing out—and painting a massive target on himself in the process—was an outstandingly stupid idea.

For that same reason, both Bannerlord and Hussar were equally ill-suited.

Bannerlord inferred an army from which to draw strength, and give strength in turn, and even at the peak of his power on Elatra he’d never had any actual experience building an army—he’d basically been handed one, and told to go murder the legions of Hell with it. The officers and leaders of that joint force had made the decisions day-to-day, and he’d simply acted as a figurehead. One with real authority, perhaps, but one also smart enough to stay away from decisions he had no experience making.

He’d spent enough time learning from the generals, commanders, and division leaders that he’d developed a strong foundation of military knowledge near the end of the war, but by that point his own subordinate leaders were so experienced against Azrageth’s forces that his own insights were still lacking comparatively.

So, once again, Bannerlord and Hussar were ruled out. Bannerlord because he had no army—and thus no banners—with which to make use of it, and Hussar because standing out and waltzing around proclaiming his noblesse oblige was a fast way to a noose or a knife in the spine.

That left only one option: Duelist. It was not an option he’d really given any thought to, in the thematic sense, when he’d been on Elatra. He’d been too overwhelmingly powerful, and there’d been no real point to single combat. Even his fight against Azrageth had been a team effort, and he’d gotten so strong by then that it had been less of a battle and more of a slightly problematic execution. The Demon Lord had died relatively anticlimactically, given all the build-up to the confrontation.

On Earth however, things would be different. He’d need an Aspect that allowed him to take strategic or tactical fights, and do so with confidence at a singular win. With the combination of his Psi Affinity, Knight Archetype, Sovereign Ambition, and Duelist Aspect, he’d likely be forced into more than one confrontation with competing leaders.

It also allowed him options insofar as tactical assassinations during combat.

Duelist just made the most damn sense for him given the unknown variables of the world, and he didn’t have time to be wandering around a real-life LitRPG with no class or abilities to protect him.

“I’ve made my decision. I choose Duelist, and don’t need a chance to confirm it. I’m happy with all my choices.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/akf2r3d.png]

Building [Unique Class]

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Please wait . . .

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Leonidas didn’t intend on twiddling his thumbs while the class was building. He still had a Trait and Title to claim, and he wasn’t about to let either of them sit in limbo forever.

“System? I’d like to claim my Unique Trait and Title.”

The moment he said the words, two new windows appeared in front of him.

When he read them, his eyes grew progressively wider.

image [https://i.imgur.com/zOBOuem.png]

image [https://i.imgur.com/1wHahOc.png]

Congratulations, you have unlocked a new [Title]!

TERRAN FORERUNNER

[Rarity]: Unique

[Description]: You are the Player who completed the [Integration Trial] on behalf of your species. This is a unique and singular achievement, and marks you as the pioneer of the System’s integration into your reality.

[Effect 1]: +1 Attribute Point per Level

[Effect 2]: +25% to all EXP

[Effect 3]: +50% Discount in [Aetherium Store]

Congratulations, you have unlocked a new [Trait]!

TERRAN CATACLYSM

[Rarity]: Unique

[Description]: You are the Player who completed the [Integration Trial] on behalf of your species. As a result of this, you are directly and indirectly responsible for more death and destruction than any natural disaster in Terran history, and have won the unique distinction of being your world’s first true Cataclysm.

[Effect 1]: You have manifested a Cataclysm Core

[Effect 2]: You may hide your Status and Information

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“That’s not a funny joke.” he said quietly. “That’s not funny at—hrrk?!”

Leonidas’ eyes bulged, and he collapsed onto his back at a sudden surge of pressure in his abdomen. His hands instinctively reached for his solar plexus, and he shuddered in physical agony at the sudden feeling of change roaring through his body. Heat, pain, and force coalesced together into a feeling of density within him and he spasmed on his back.

The worst part was that the sensation was familiar.

He’d felt it once before, when awakening his Radiance Core.

The difference, of course, was he had been filled with tonics and elixirs, mentally prepared, and slipped into a state of meditative focus to ensure the smoothest possible manifestation. This time, none of those elements were present—and instead of a gradual warmth, he felt as if a firestorm, tidal wave, earthquake, hurricane, and tornado had been unleashed inside of him all at once.

The power that snarled to life within his solar plexus was neither revitalizing nor soothing, and instead caused him to cramp across the entirety of his body. Visceral agony assaulted him, and he opened his mouth in a choked and wordless scream—all while his pain receptors registered enough input that he should have blacked out.

Instead he remained awake, alert, and aware of everything. From the full-body muscle cramps to the forcible shifting of his blood vessels, and the subsequent brute-force alteration of his anatomy. Leonidas felt every moment of the System’s etching of critical mana channels, and the way they branched out from his nascent Core like the roots of a suddenly full-grown tree.

He knew instinctively, as well, that they were incomplete. They were a foundation, created through precise and savage necessity that made him feel like someone were driving white-hot needles through the inside of his body and along his torso and limbs. Spots appeared in his eyes, followed by whiteness, and then a ringing in his ears. He tasted copper, and iron, and smelled frying bacon and burnt bread. His eyes rolled into his head, and yet he couldn’t escape to unconsciousness.

Just when he thought he would surely go mad, and the pain would ratchet beyond the capacity for his mind to even attempt to process; it was done.

Leonidas sat up and heaved in a breath as suddenly as if someone had drenched him in ice water. Sweat plastered him like he’d bathed in it, and yet he smelled no rancid excretion. Normally, the process of creating a Core—even just one in formation stage—resulted in the excretion of impurities.

None had left his body, which begged an interesting question: was his current body the same one he’d had when he was first transmigrated?

Before he could even begin to think about how to investigate that, a new pair of System windows appeared before him.

image [https://i.imgur.com/djwzLQw.png]

image [https://i.imgur.com/z5CKQgn.png]

Congratulations, you have unlocked a new [Class]!

PSIARCH

[Rarity]: Unique

[Description]: Your choice of Affinity, Archetype, Ambition, and Aspect have unlocked the ‘Psiarch’ class. As a Psiarch, your will itself becomes your most potent weapon, and you dominate your enemies and rivals through combat prowess and Psionic power. As a Psiarch, your bearing and presence are that of a nascent Sovereign, and inspire loyalty and courage in your followers while engendering fear and dread in your foes.

[Affinity Skills]: Psikinetic Blade, Psikinetic Shield, Psion’s Focus

[Archetype Skills]: Chivalric Charge, Coup de Force: Premier

[Ambition Skills]: Noble’s Resolve, Oath of Fealty

Congratulations, you have begun forming a new [Core]!

CATACLYSM CORE

[Rarity]: Unique

[Description]: This Core is a unique and terrifying existence within the System, and has been granted to you for your outstanding performance in unleashing untold death and destruction across your homeworld. The Cataclysm Core holds within it the slumbering power of a natural disaster, and limitless potential. In the right circumstances, the power of the Cataclysm Core will awaken, and grant you power beyond all comprehension. Onward, O Great Destroyer! Bend the Laws of Reality to serve your will!

[Core Effect 1 (Formation Stage)]: +10% Elemental Resistance

[Core Effect 2 (Formation Stage)]: [Locked]

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“Are you kidding me?” he demanded angrily. “This is your idea of a reward?”

Leonidas curled his hands into fists, and angrily swiped away the System screens after reading them. His class and abilities were interesting, but that was largely overshadowed by the gleeful System message informing him that he was the worst mass murderer in human history.

> “You are sentencing your earth to cataclysm.”

Azrageth’s voice came back to him, and Leonidas swallowed back some nausea.

On an objective level, he could rationalize that it wasn’t his fault.

But then his thought drifted to the people affected by the System Incursion. Millions, potentially billions of them across the globe. How many had died when the monsters had first appeared? How many had been killed in the weeks, months, and years that followed?

His timeline for the end of the world was still hazy, but judging from what he’d seen in Miami, it wasn’t a recent occurrence. There had to have been a solid block of time passed since the apocalypse had happened, and he still didn’t know how that lined up to his ‘Integration Trial’. The System implied he’d been the one to validate Earth—or Terra, apparently—as a target for integration, yet the apocalypse had clearly happened before he’d finished with Azrageth.

Another mystery he’d need to solve.

“Well,” he said grumpily, “at least I have some time to experiment with my skills.”

As if mocking him, the System chose that exact moment to create a multitude of portals.