"Look what the cat dragged in," Rurik said when he greeted Luke. The spoken words were in Eldrinsvän, but communication across the omniverse was a lot easier when everyone involved was a psychic.
"Nice to see you too. Been busy, I see?" Luke asked. On the floor of the forge, Luke saw a small-scale replica of the train he arrived in, zooming around one of the long tables.
"Yes, I try to keep myself active. The old mine locomotives were never as big or advanced as your 'subway' trains. I was curious how the dungeon altered the runeworks," Rurik said as he walked over to the window overlooking the river below and the elevated train tracks above it. "Another part of Lundheim lost to the aether, but the old docks were a bit of an eyesore, truth be told."
"I see. So the river isn't part of the original city then?" Luke said.
"No, son. The Styx isn't an echo of an actual place. It's an age-old concept that runs through the Veil and carries the aether of dead souls. It appeared in the dungeon maybe three hundred years ago when we anchored on the Rock of Bhaal. Before that, Lake Und was down there at the bottom of the cavern. Fishing was a big industry in the old city. Fish, fungi, and forging, the big three."
Luke's stomach clenched at the mention of fungi, and his gorge rose. Whatever foodstuffs the dwarves used to export, he doubted that shambler meat had ever been a hot commodity. He would never eat mushrooms again.
The thought of food reminded Luke that he was starving. He shuffled into the forge and dumped the unconscious viran on the table, along with his heavy loot-filled backpack.
In no time at all, Luke had navigated his way to his favourite part of the marketplace: the food section. He was flush with credits from scooping up all the gold coins, so he treated himself to a [Mammoth Steak].
"Is there a particular reason you've brought a purifier into my forge?" Rurik said from the window, looking at Luke with mild reproach in his eyes. The expression softened just a tad when the forgemaster looked over the viran.
"Bit of a long story. The short version is that I found a camp of them beneath the city, killed a bunch of them, and released some prisoners, including this guy. What's a purifier? The system said they were called viran," Luke said in a rasp as he grilled his steak on the furnace. Though his [Recovery] was putting in some work, his throat was still scorched.
"They're a cult dedicated to the first emperor. The specifics vary from place to place, but they basically believe that any cultivation domains that didn't exist in the first age are evil and taint the Veil," Rurik said.
Luke scoffed. "That sounds shitty, but not too surprising. I watched them beat the shit out of each other for hours and burn a bunch of their own kind alive."
"Yes, that sounds like them. I think I've seen these viran before, a few worlds back maybe. They don't really align with the theme of the dungeon too closely, so they must have made a strong impression," Rurik said.
"Is that something that could happen to me?" Luke asked, pausing between bites of his steak while he waited for a reply.
"Well, if you were very unlucky, I suppose. Your aura doesn't have much resonance with the dungeon, so it's not likely, and you would have to be inside the dungeon when the anchor breaks. We only just landed on your world, so we'll probably be here a while yet, son," Rurik said, going back from the window to play with the model train he made.
Luke sighed. He was reassured that the dungeon wouldn’t turn him into an echo of his former self, what Gaia had called an NPC, like the viran below. After finishing his food, he went over to the quenching tub and ran a cold ice bath for himself. The barrel was on the smaller side for someone his size, but he hadn't yet found any human-sized baths on the marketplace.
When he peeled off his armour, Luke couldn't help but wince as some skin came with it. Beneath the metal, his mortal flesh had seen better days. Blisters, some weeping clear fluid, others an angry red, covered his arms and torso.
The cold water was a shock to his system as he lowered himself in, but the numbing sensation that followed was a blessed relief.
Though Luke bore the pain well, he must have made some noise because Rurik looked up from his tinkering and shook his head. Saying nothing, the dwarf got to his feet and walked over.
With his mastery over [Fire], Rurik soothed the burns. He couldn't heal them, but he could take out the lingering heat even more effectively than the ice, and that wasn’t all he did.
A weight lifted from within Luke that he hadn't even realised was there. Curious, he checked to see if the system could shed any light on the feeling.
[You have lost the status effect - Soulburn]
[Soulburn - The aether in your soul ignites and slowly burns all domains considered heretical by the caster.]
Luke wasn't in the habit of checking his system menus while fighting, but occasionally looked after a fight. The status screen was hit and miss. Often it was blank but had helped diagnose a couple of nasty effects accumulated fighting [Plague Rats].
"Thank you, Rurik," Luke said as he removed the last of his armour. The forgemaster nodded, then looked away from Luke's naked body to instead fuss over the few slight scratches his armour had acquired. Rurik was grumbling under his breath about a lack of proper maintenance as Luke gingerly lowered himself into the tub.
Luke wasn't sure if the dwarf was playing it up, but he started talking to the armour again in the same slightly deranged way he did while forging. Quirky habits aside, Rurik was a staunch ally and Luke's best source of information.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"I hit level ten down there, and my system says I'm ready to pick a class. Do you mind giving me advice?" Luke said.
"Sure, though, like I told you before, I'm not sure how much help I'll be. It's normally a special occasion, with big ceremonies and celebration for the psion's ascension and all."
"Yeah, I remember you saying. Maybe I can buy some cake and booze from the marketplace after-" Luke stumbled a little on his words as he remembered the last time Rurik got drunk. "Or some other treat," he finished lamely, hoping that Rurik hadn't noticed the awkward pause.
Maybe he noticed, or maybe he didn't. The dwarf didn't comment or look up from fussing over Luke's armour. Luke wasn't holding one drunken mistake against his fiery friend, but the spirit was clearly unstable. If he had been through so many centuries of isolation, he would have long gone completely insane.
Luke didn't want to overthink what such a life must be like, particularly because Earth wasn't going to be the last stop. Instead, he pulled up the class selection and started the process.
[Congratulations on reaching level ten! Your system seed is saturated and can initiate synthesis of a class. The process can take upwards of an hour, so ensure you are in a safe location. There are myriad combinations and expressions of aetheric domains possible. Your seed will now present the three most optimal choices ordered from best to worst.]
[Path of the Indomitable Dreadnought - This class cultivates Warhammer and Bulwark, augmented by Apex. Expressed by the manipulations of Momentum and Inertia. I am unstoppable, I am unbreakable. Cultivating the concepts on this path gives: +2 Strength, +2 Will, +2 Endurance, +3 Free points per level. Gain Gravity as an additional domain.]
[Path of the Golden Reaver - This class cultivates Warhammer and Fire, augmented by Murderhobo. Expressed by pure offensive savagery with hammer and flame in the pursuit of loot, levels, and luxury. Wealth is power. Cultivating the concepts on this path gives: +3 Strength, +2 Will, +1 Empathy, +2 Free points per level, +100% loot generated.]
[Path of the Eternal Flame Guardian - This class cultivates Fire and Bulwark, augmented by Apex. Expressed by channelling the primordial spark. The flame shall burn eternal. Cultivating the concepts on this path gives: +3 Empathy, +2 Endurance, +1 Will, +3 Free points per level.]
[More options…]
Exactly what the system used to determine what was the optimal class wasn’t clear, but the top classes certainly had impressive-sounding names. Luke briefly looked through some options further down and saw that, as advertised, the further he went, the less interesting the classes sounded. I'm not sure why anyone would choose to be an [Ironborn Infantry], he thought. When he asked, Rurik explained he had a skewed perspective from the system aiding his cultivation. Domains were usually a lot harder to come by.
As much as the system was a massive boon, it felt a bit like it had taken the choice from him by outright telling him what the best choice was, but Luke knew it wasn't infallible. Best was inherently subjective, and without knowing the criteria used, he would have to take the recommendations of which path to walk with a pinch of salt.
Luke submerged his face in the icy water of the quenching tub. His pale skin came up in goose pimples, but with his high [Endurance], he wasn't too bothered by the frigid temperature. The cold not only soothed his burns but also helped him think. He could see the appeal in all three of the top options.
The Path of the [Golden Reaver] promised pure destructive power and appealed to the part of him that revelled in dominance over his foes, whether that be a douchebag flirting with his ex, a mad prophet, or his childhood bullies.
On a less emotional level, Luke knew that the system was right: wealth was power. If he could leverage the money-making capabilities of the [Murderhobo] he would go far. With such a huge bonus to loot, he could buy whatever he wanted and live a life of luxury.
If he had been playing an actual video game, the reaver would have been the most fun to play. Yet, as he often told himself when thinking about the system, this wasn’t a game. There were no second chances, and he needed to keep a level head.
A couple of minutes passed before Luke moved on to thinking about the [Eternal Flame Guardian] class. He lifted his face from the water and took a breath. At copper rank, [Fire] was by far his weakest domain, yet a class that revolved around it was his third-best option, according to the system.
Why it was listed there in third place was a bit of a mystery; the system didn't explain its rankings at all. It sounded like a casting-based class, and Luke's attributes were heavily skewed towards the physical.
There was, however, one significant advantage he could use if he went for a flame-based class. Luke looked at Rurik. Bent over his model train, the spirit's flaming beard practically touched the ground. Even if killing the aspect of [Fire] for his aether was out of the question, his expertise was an even more valuable resource.
"So, what's the primordial spark?" Luke asked.
"The spark? It's the fire from which the dragons draw breath. Why?" Rurik said.
Luke's eyes widened. "Dragons!?" He was talking to a dwarf, in a dungeon full of undead, yet dragons being real still filled him with childlike wonder. "The system offered me a class called: Path of the [Eternal Flame Guardian]."
"Bullshit! How did your system pull that off? Only the best psions get accepted by the Draconic alliance," Rurik scoffed.
It took a moment for Luke to react to the obvious scepticism in Rurik’s words.. "Hey!"
Rurik chuckled as Luke puffed himself up in faux pride. "Sorry, son. You've done well, but the dragons hand-pick a single champion for each star they use as a nest. You aren't that special."
"Well, I got a new domain, the [Apex]. It’s overpowered as hell, but I might lose it if I don't win some kind of competition."
"I… that's a lot to process. [Apex] of your entire species? Really? I suppose that would do it, but you can't walk the path of the guardian without the blessing of the scaled ones. They take their eggs seriously,"
"But is it a good class?"
"Damn right, no fire burns brighter than dragon-fire. You could melt the hull of an ark ship with a single breath... Wait, you can't be considering it! They would burn you alive for sheer arrogance."
As much as Luke was enamoured with the idea, he didn't want to piss off an alliance of dragons. Even if it was a powerful class, it probably wasn't worth it, nor was it the best fit for him.
No, after talking back and forth with Rurik, thinking things through several times, and even trying to shake down the system, he moved on.
[Indomitable Dreadnought] was the class that the system thought was best. Purely based on numbers, it drew for first place with the guardian class, but came with an extra domain attached. More important than the numbers alone, the class felt like a good fit. He was already running around in heavy armour, hitting things with a war hammer.
Rurik wasn’t able to shed much light on the class, other than to say that dreadnought was a class of veilship the size of a city that was used to break through heavily defended positions. It had once taken all five grand forges of the Eldrinsvär a decade to craft a single vessel.
[You have selected Indomitable Dreadnought, stand by for soul realignment.]
Stand by for what?