Sometimes a Class can also be a title, position, or profession in addition to being a Class. For example, take a [Baron], [First Commander], and [Blacksmith]. They have duality in the things they represent. These are the most common and no less powerful than any other. Perhaps true power lies in the unknown, this is why uncommon Classes are often said to be powerful. A Class which is nothing but a Class. A [Trueshot Sniper] for example. A [Sniper] perhaps may have some connotation to a select few who are familiar, but the power lies in the first word. What does trueshot entail? And this, reader, wherein lies the balance of power.

- The Origins of Skills and Abilities, The Untethered Tomes

A small forcefield surrounded me, skintight. I rolled forward having even the ground repelled by my shield. My sword came up, blocking the wooden dummy's overhead strike. I twirled upwards and capitalized on the imbalance, tripping up the dummy and bringing my sword to its neck.

I had beaten it. It was the very first time I had ever taken a match.

It reset itself standing up combat-ready. It was its way of saying the battle was over, that I had won. I allowed myself my triumph, heart beating with accomplishment. Then I brutally crushed it. There was little time for celebration, death still loomed over me.

Complete Barrier and Warding Techniques unlike Advanced Constructs and Golemancy covered the entirety of the subject with great precision. I didn't need to find other references as it was all detailed here, it was a complete guide. The first step for any [Barrier Mage] or [Ward Mage] was to develop their mana pool, and practice holding a shield indefinitely no matter the power, although one being able to withstand your own weight was ideal. As it turned out, constructs were good for draining mana and training a mana reserve. Since I had been utilizing them, my mana was at least exercised, that combined with the small training I had been doing as The Art Of Magic directed, and I was at a good spot.

Currently, I could stop a lightly thrown rock from grazing my skin. 

The sword I held in my hand, borrowed from the knight statue, had become lighter in my grip. It had become comfortable as I went over the entirety of the Skylight Form. Then finally, it had become as if an extension of my arm. I held it with increasing familiarity but nonetheless felt futile. There was nothing to tell me if I was applying the technique correctly. I was glad the sword form, or rather combat form as I'd come to know it, was based on speed and counter-attack. Anything else would've been entirely useless, as opposed to only semi-useless. It wouldn't help with a reaver, but the training did help my stamina and endurance.

I placed the sword back in the knight statue's hand, moving towards the botany section in order to store any harvested vegetables in my study as I had made a habit of doing. My readings, however, gave me pause as I noticed a faint white light coming from the statue's head. The sigil was in white, barely visible against the marble statue. The only reason I had seen it was thanks to [Reader's Eyes] which allowed me to read most anything under any conditions so long as I could see it.

Could it be? [Search: Library]. Golems, constructs. The pulse exploded from me and impacted the statue in front of me with a ringing glow. The resounding boom of the impact, while insubstantial, made me jerk backward. Such an impact was the result of its proximity and general suitability to the terms of the search. The fact that my terms were so broad... well it left me very curious. It meant this statue truly encompassed the meaning of golem and construct. In a way that none of the lights pinging from the combat hall even got close to, though they were intensely bright too.

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He was smooth marble, blackened in places but wholly white. The black existed in streaks of lightning across his body, they traveled from skin to armor without exception. He was a masterpiece that despite seeing every so often, I could not tire of. His armor was perfect down to the detail, his helmet covered the majority of his face, but powerful eyes were set under the guard. What was visible of his face was scarred in a way that I couldn't fathom a [Sculptor] reproducing.

You are safe in this library.

The words echoed in my head. The statue did not have a regular control sigil. Only power. I pushed mana slowly into the statue and watched. Art became life before my very eyes. The eyes which had always faced forward locked with some unseen foe, blinked. Armor clunked as if it were metal and not marble. All the pieces which were cut of the same block suddenly had separated. At some point during my observation what was once art had stepped into reality. Literally, stepping off its pedestal.

I was staring at a knight. And he was staring back.

"Greetings, student." His voice rang dully from behind his helmet. His eyes sharpened at the disaster that was the current state of the library. "What manner of eldritch horror has descended upon the library?" He said sharply.

"It has been like this since I arrived." I croaked, my voice failing me from unuse.

The man found me again, not relaxing his grip on his weapon, nor his eyes from the surroundings. "What year then? The Great Library of Arbos could not have fallen from the mere passage of time." He was quick to disregard me as a threat.

Arbos, I noted. The name was not familiar to me. "Lost to time, as well." I grimaced, using simpler words and pointing to myself. "Just noticed you were a golem." I said painfully. 

He relaxed. "Then the danger is not so immediate. Where are the other [Scholars], the [Great Librarians], the [Book Keepers]?" His words became hollow as he glanced around, for the first time noticing the lack of people, the uncleaned debris. 

"Unknown." I said. "Are you truly a golem?"

He frowned deeply but answered me absently. The words that followed seemed routine, as if it were a task given to all who asked. "Yes, the product of a willing [Knight], a high-leveled [Sculptor] and a [Golemancer]. [Art Imitates Life], look up the Skill and perhaps you may fill in the dots." He focused on me. "And you then? Who are you?"

"Amnesiac, I awoke here." I spoke slowly. A product of three people? What was this so-called Great Library of Arbos? To command such collaborations? I added context. "Trying to survive." My voice could not handle the eloquence of my mind, to my great irritation.

"You do not have the mana to sustain me, student." He stated cooly and suddenly, looking at me with his full attention. I had the vague impression he was a figure often seen on the library floor, perhaps even the combat hall. He paused. "Survive?"

He was right, I didn't. I was genuinely surprised. It was the first time the connection to a golem drained me so drastically. Not to mention the first time a golem had pointed it out to me. I focused on his question. "Disaster. Fathoms below the surface. Must ascend. Live." I summarized.

The knight removed his helmet and looked around. How he could even do that was a mystery. I stared at him, more curious than anything. He had short hair, no doubt sensible wearing all that armor. My eyes widened as I took in the face as a whole every feature morphing my perception until I knew I was wrong in my assumption. The scars I had witnessed earlier framed something unexpected. Gentle eyes regarded me, yet they were no less focused or weak. The knight's face was round with young wrinkles that hinted at a happy life.

She looked at me. Because it was, most definitely, a she.

"You speak to the [Lead Library Guard]." The phrase was both title, position, and Class. "Tell me the state of the library as you know it, student." Her voice was strict. "What has happened to Arbos' Library?"

I told her.