Jack spent -what felt like to him- forever on his decision. But the actual selection process was only a few moments in real time, as he decided on his future -his class choice. He had planned this out from the day he had learned classes were a thing, and he had gained the experiences he needed in order to choose from the pool of standard paths that everyone had access to.
He was originally going to choose either Thief, Alchemist, or Mage. But then the system had to go and throw a shiny new wrench into his plans.
The notification pulsed in the corner of his vision like an insistent beacon, a reminder of the path he could take. The shattered core had provided him with a wealth of energy in the form of Prismata Shards -far more than he could have hoped for. Combined with the ones he’d collected during his journeys with Lord Arlington, he realized he was standing at the precipice of something extraordinary.
In order to optimize class options and to advance those classes beyond their base levels, you needed enough accumulated energy to break through. The energy could come from many sources, including the core itself, Prismata Shards, experience acquired, powerful magical artifacts, a gift from a god, or a deal with a devil.
There were no limits to the sources of energy, which often led to strange and unusual -and sometimes truly unique- class advancement options. Jack had read accounts of heroes unlocking bizarre classes after binding themselves to eldritch horrors or taming beasts from beyond the Veil. He wasn’t keen to replicate those experiments.
All that mattered was that you had the energy available at the time of selection or advancement. Because advancing was all acquiring the experience and energy needed to unlock available nodes.
When Lord Arlington had given him his first primer on the subject, Prismata: The Adventurer’s Guide to Class Advancement, Jack had felt like the gates to another world had been thrown open. He spent every waking moment -not working on Lord Arlington’s command- consuming the theories found in the book. To him, it acted almost like a skill-book, as the knowledge was instantly absorbed and retained. His unusual circumstances, combined with his system, granted him an encyclopedic understanding of anything he studied in the Otherworld.
The theory on circle and level advancements was rather straightforward. Jack had devoured the chapters on nodes, resonances, and branching paths with the same enthusiasm he once had for late-night fantasy novels back on Earth. And surprisingly some of the things found in those pages had prepared him for what lay before him now. It was almost like the authors he loved had been tapping into trans-dimensional truths of magical theory.
Monster cores and dungeon cores contained universal matrices of knowledge and power. They were bound to the legend of the thing. Once a person reached a high enough concentration of power and increased their own legend to a point of significance -which always varied by the individual- then they too formed a core.
Prismata cores were ephemeral in nature, and only in areas of high concentrations of magic, or under specific circumstances, could they be made to manifest. To Jack, this idea was both exhilarating and daunting: the notion that he, too, carried the seed of his own potential power. And his future.
It is by harnessing those matrices of energy and knowledge that one is able to break through their current power levels and unlock the next tiers in their advancement. They can then move into the next tier of their respective class circles. Or unlock new classes entirely.
Jack’s pulse quickened every time he thought of what could come next -the rewards, the challenges, and the infinite possibilities that awaited beyond each node.
The growth system was node-based, and each node acted as a nexus of energy. Experience gained once the nodes were unlocked gradually filled the branches that extended from the nexus node.
Like a nervous system, the branches wove their way throughout the entire being of the individual, granting them access to both generally available and exclusive skills, abilities, talents, knacks, and gifts related to their class. If they had more than one class, their experience could be directed toward a specific nexus node.
It had been intense -and dry- reading, full of theories that twisted and looped like the labyrinthine structure of the nodes themselves. But it had given Jack the drive he needed to survive in this world -forever cut off from his home. He had memorized every word, turning the abstract concepts into a roadmap for his survival. And now, here he was, standing at a crossroads.
Prestige classes? Are you kidding me? Jack thought in dismay, surveying the proffered options as if they were a cruel joke played by the system itself.
He spent far too long just staring at the list, each unknown attribute mocking his carefully laid plans. Nothing he had studied covered these classes during his research. The system hadn’t even deigned to provide him with detailed descriptions, only tantalizingly vague names and brief flavor text.
Lord Arlington and the veterans of the company had theorized that Jack’s unique nature might eventually lead to an unusual opportunity. But even then, such events were as rare as a phoenix egg. Yet here he was -with an impossible choice to make
The notification continued to pulse in Jack’s vision, a faint glow hovering just on the edge of his awareness. Then, on queue, Sys chimed in with her distinct mix of sarcasm and snark.
Sys: Jack, you’ve been staring at those class options like they’re a pop quiz you forgot to study for. Tick-tock.
Jack: I’m thinking, Sys. It’s called strategy. Maybe look it up sometime.
Sys: Strategy? Oh, that’s adorable. Is the strategy to stall until the heat death of the universe? Because you’re nailing it.
Jack: Gee, thanks. Super helpful. Maybe instead of roasting me, you could… I don’t know… explain these options a little better?
Sys: Oh, you want help now? Okay, here’s a hot take: Don’t pick Mage unless you’re ready to become the party’s glorified snack dispenser. Everyone loves a mage until you’re the one getting blamed for running out of mana during a boss fight.
Jack: Noted. Mage is off the table. Thief and Alchemist are still solid, though.
Sys: Thief. How original. Let me guess: you’re imagining yourself as some shadowy badass, all stealth kills and rooftop chases. Newsflash, Jack -half the time, thieves end up face-planting while running from guard dogs.
Jack: That’s not how I was picturing it. There are future sub-classes that are very interesting.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Sys: Sure it wasn’t. And Alchemist? Oh, you mean the magical chemistry set that smells like burnt cabbage? Super glamorous. You’ll make all the friends.
Jack: You’re really earning that “most annoying digital sister” award today, aren’t you?
Sys: Flattered. But seriously, what about the shiny ones? Prestige classes. Ring any bells?
Jack: Oh, you mean the completely unexplained options you threw at me out of nowhere?
Sys: Yeah, those.
Jack: Why don’t you actually tell me what they do?
Sys: Where’s the fun in that? But fine, I’ll bite. Prestige classes are, like, the rare loot drops of life. Everyone wants one, almost nobody gets one. You, little brother, just rolled a crit.
Jack: That’s great and all, but I still don’t know what any of these are. Sylvan Forager? What is that, some kind of magical gardener?
Sys: Close. Think survivalist -but on steroids. Nature skills, self-sufficiency, the ability to thrive in situations that would make most people curl up and cry. Perfect for someone with a knack for getting into trouble.
Jack: Sounds hardcore. What’s the catch?
Sys: Oh, you know, just the minor detail that your "experience" will probably involve death-defying stunts. Or, more accurately, death-inducing. But hey, high risk, high reward, right?
Jack: Awesome. Definitely what I wanted to hear. Got any other nuggets of wisdom?
Sys: Yeah. You’ve got five minutes to decide.
A glowing timer appeared in Jack’s vision: 4:59… 4:58… 4:57.
Jack: Are you serious?! A timer? What is this, a game show?
Sys: No, it’s me saving you from decision paralysis. Face it, Jack -if I didn’t step in, you’d still be here next week, scribbling out pros and cons on some imaginary whiteboard.
Jack: This isn’t just some casual choice, Sys! It’s my life!
Sys: Exactly. So quit stalling. Thief’s too basic, Alchemist’s too cabbage-y, and Mage -don’t even get me started. That leaves the shiny ones. Prestige, Jack. Prestige.
Jack: I don’t even know what any of these do!
Sys: Welcome to life, kid. Half the time, you don’t get the manual. But hey, I’ll give you this much: Sylvan Forager is your wildcard. Nature nerd vibes, sure, but it’s all about resilience. Plus, you might get some fun abilities. Like eating questionable plants. Or surviving things that should definitely kill you.
Jack: That’s… oddly specific.
Sys: Let’s just say survivalists are hard to kill. Very hard to kill. Your call, Jack.
Jack: Okay, okay. I’ll -wait. What about the other two? Moon Touched Trickster and Dual Edged Pathfinder?
Sys: Trickster’s basically “Fae’Ri Rogue Extraordinaire.” Shadowy, sneaky, and very tricksy. Pathfinder’s like a Ranger on overdrive -long-range combat, tracking, you name it. But Sylvan Forager? That’s the wildcard. Big risks, big rewards.
Jack: You keep saying “big risks” like it’s a selling point.
Sys: It is… if you don’t die horribly. No pressure. 3:00… 2:59…
Jack: Ugh! Fine. I’ll take the Sylvan Forager. Happy now?
Sys: Ecstatic. Congratulations, little brother. You’re officially a nature-loving adrenaline junkie. Now hit confirm before I have to drag you kicking and screaming.
Jack sighed, hovering his hand over the glowing selection. 2:10… 2:09…
Jack: You’re the worst, Sys.
Sys: And yet, here you are, surviving because of me. You’re welcome.
Sylvan Forager, huh? It was a survivalist, and that intrigued him.
Becoming a Survivalist was dangerous in the extreme, because the type of experience you needed. Survivalists were tested by fire, forced to walk paths that even the bravest warriors avoided. They clawed their way back from the brink of oblivion and came out stronger for it -or died trying.
He had heard tales of Survivalists who were true monsters, their abilities so honed by impossible odds that they seemed to defy nature itself. Skills like Cockroach -a talent that granted a comical, yet terrifying, ability to endure anything short of complete obliteration- were infamous among the adventuring community.
Lord Arlington had once shared the story of a Survivalist who had been thrown into the Heart of the Void -a churning, reality-warping rift of chaos- as a desperate, last-ditch effort to give her party a chance to escape. She had disappeared with nothing more than a grin on her face and a mad glint in her eye. Everyone had assumed she was lost to the Void forever.
And yet, years later, she had reappeared at the very tavern her old party frequented when planning their next adventure. The timing had been poetic. Her arrival coincided with the anniversary of her supposed death, a day her former comrades marked with solemn drinks and stories of her sacrifice.
That Survivalist was Raya, the Blessed.
Jack could still remember Lord Arlington’s face as he told the tale, a rare flicker of something like awe -and a tear of emotion- breaking through his usual stoicism. “True Survivalists,” he had said, “are forces of nature. They don’t just endure the impossible -they laugh in its face and dare it to try harder.”
Jack’s heart thudded in his chest as he made his final selection. If he was going to walk this path, he would have to embody that same spirit. No hesitation. No regrets. Only forward.
With a muttered curse, Jack selected Sylvan Forager. The system chimed triumphantly, and Sys’s voice returned, full of sisterly smugness.
Sys: Welcome to the hardcore club, Jack. Hope you like eating bugs.
Jack: I hate you so much.
Sys: Love you too, little brother. Now go get yourself some death defying experience. And Remember -it’s not what you do, it’s how cool you look doing it that matters.
The next message that appeared was less familiar, its notification as cold and final as the turn of a key in a lock.
System Notification:
Primary Class Selected: Sylvan Forager. Unlocking survivalist-based skill tree.
Welcome to the next step of your legend.
----------------------------------------
His choice secured, the system provided him with a follow-up message.
Initial abilities gained: Keen Instinct, Nature’s Fortitude, Wheel of Mortality
Survivalist Pathways Activated: Forge Your Legend.
----------------------------------------
The moment had been transformative, a cornerstone in his life. But Jack had barely a moment to reflect more before reality snapped back to the present.
“Jack?” Susie’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. She was watching him warily, her brow furrowed in concern as she looked back at him over her shoulder, “You okay back there?”
“Yeah,” Jack replied quickly, shaking off the memory. “Just... reminiscing.”
She rolled her eyes. “About what? Your glory days of dungeon crawling?”
Jack chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Something like that.”
But the truth was more complicated. Memories of Arlington carried a bittersweet weight. The old man had been a harsh teacher, never one for coddling, but he’d also been the closest thing Jack had to a father figure in the Otherworld. Without him, Jack would’ve been just another casualty -a nameless foot soldier thrown into the meat grinder of someone else’s war. Or worse, a human sacrifice to one of the many gods or devils that thrived on the Otherworld’s endless cycle of death and conquest.
He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t help him here.
The tunnel shifted abruptly, narrowing further as the walls contracted in a sickening undulation. The air grew thicker, heavy with the stench of decay and something acrid that burned Jack’s throat. He grimaced, pulling his shirt up over his nose as he crawled forward. The tendrils seemed more aggressive now, brushing against him with unsettling intent, as if testing his resolve.
He was thankful for the World’s First title bonuses, and the aura he emitted which benefitted not only him, but Susie as well.
“Why does it feel like this worm is actively trying to screw with us?” Susie muttered, her voice tinged with both irritation and unease.
“Because it probably is,” Jack said grimly. “Dungeons have a way of... adapting. They’re not just places; they’re systems. Living, breathing ecosystems designed to challenge and, sometimes, kill anyone who dares enter. This one is just more alive in the literal sense than most.”
Susie shot him a sidelong glance. “You could’ve led with that before I signed up for this nightmare.”
Jack smirked as he shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?” The moment he said it, he could hear the voice of Sys chuckling in his ear. Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up, Sys.
Susie groaned, muttering something about homicidal mentors and their warped sense of humor. But despite her grumbling, Jack could see the spark of determination and purpose in her eyes. She wasn’t the type to quit, even when the odds were stacked against her.