“Is it that one?” Will asked, pointing at a mountain rising in the distance.

Marcel enfolded the map in his hands and looked at it. He turned it a few times, and then shook his head. “Nah. Should be further still.”

“Even further?”

“At least another day's march.”

Will groaned.

“This better be worth it in the end,” Mesmeranda said. “If we ran two days through the wilderness for nothing I’ll be mad at you.”

Marcel shrugged. “You knew the risks, besides you’re already getting compensated for the traveling. Quite generous I might add.”

Mesmeranda murmured something under her breath but didn’t complain further. She started walking ahead, leaving Marcel and Will trailing after her through the forest. With her scout abilities she was best suited for pushing ahead and making sure the path was clear.

They were far enough from the city now that there could be monsters laying in wait throughout the whole forest for them.

When they rested for the night they made a very nice camp. Marcel had bought some little cubes that he found endlessly innovative. They sprang up as kind of magic tents. They hadn’t been cheap, but he reasoned that they also were kind of his insurance against homelessness.

A fire bristled in their middle, not for the warmth or their food, just to keep the darkness at bay.

“Are you sure there will be no attacks during the night?” Will asked, looking over his shoulder.

“One can never be sure in the wilderness,” Mesmeranda shrugged. “But reasonably, yes.”

They settled into somewhat of a silence.

“How did you do it?” Will asked him.

“What?”

“How did you level up your class so quickly in so few days?” Will asked tentatively.

Mesmeranda didn’t pause her wood carving for one moment, but Marcel could tell her attention was captured as well.

“I just did some quests,” Marcel shrugged.

Both of the twins stared at him. “Just did some quests? What kind of quests would’ve gotten you so many levels so quickly?”

“Even low level quests pay off you know.”

“Marcel,” Will said. “Are you saying you got ten levels in two months from doing scumjobs?”

“Guess they’re not really scumjobs, eh?” Marcel chuckled.

The twins didn’t react. In fact their faces have seemed to grow a few shades paler as they exchanged looks.

“What is it?” Marcel asked.

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Mesmeranda said. “You shouldn’t be able to get those levels just through scum jobs.”

Marcel felt a little agitated now. “Of course it’s possible. Do you know how many fucking hours I’ve spent crawling through the sewers? I took two missions a day, sometimes more.”

“That is.. . quite the worker spirit,” Will said. “But that’s not what Messy meant. If she says it's not possible, she doesn’t mean you haven’t worked hard enough. She means it's simply not possible. Even if you would’ve done two missions everyday.”

“Sometimes three.”

“Three missions everyday. With the little XP they give. Maybe you woulödve managed to gain four or five levels. If you really got good contracts and pushed yourself. But you just gained two times the amount an ordinary human would’ve.”

“Maybe I just got some extraordinary missions then.”

Will raised an eyebrow.

A little ball of metal appeared in Marcel’s stomach. Clamping it together.”Maybe my class just levels faster?” He asked, trying to laugh the situation off.

“I have never heard of something like that, and I have studied classes and magic systems for quite a while.”

“We both have,” Mesmeranda chimed in. “Back when we prayed to get classes and make it to the guild.”

They both stared at Marcel. It was when he realized he might have said something wrong.

“You know, you never told us which class you have,” Will said.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You only ever said it’s a warrior type. What kind of warrior type is it?”

“I would rather keep that to myself. Classes can be a private thing.”

“I’m a scout with a specialized archer skill, and Will is a Mana Mage.”

“I know that sharing classes is a thing of trust and privacy, but we went on a big hunch to trust you with this one Marcel.”

‘Keep the secrets that will come to you.’ The voice that Marcel had heard during his transference to this world rang in his ears. This had led him to lie to them before. It had led him to lie to the guild. And worst of all, it had equipped him with a set of paranoia that had been there the whole way since he arrived in this world with him.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He had enough of that.

“My class is called Warrior of Rhea.”

They both gave him blank stares.

“I have never heard of that.”

“Me neither.”

Marcel looked sheepishly at the floor. He had hoped for a somewhat different reaction. “You also can't tell me anything about Rhea?”

Mesmeranda denied it, but Will cocked his head.

“The name sounds familiar.” He thought for a moment. “I think she was one of the old titans?”

“The titans?” Mesmeranda asked. “Are you sure?”

“What titans?” Marcel jumped upon the train of questions.

“The titans were kind of our thing before our pantheon with gods took over. An old folk myth nothing more.”

“So like the Greek myths?” Marcel asked.

Will raised an eyebrow. “The what?”

“Where I come from we have kind of similar myths. Big bad titans ruled the heavens until the gods came and banished them.” He thought for a moment. “Kind of like the french revolution.”

Will stared at him. “I have no idea where you come from. None of these places sound even vaguely familiar.”

Marcel shrugged.

“Well our titans aren’t an old folk myth for everybody though. Some scholars seem to agree that they truly have walked the earth once upon a time.”

“Well that’s hearsay.”

“He has a class of a titan for god's sake. How can it be hearsay?”

Will paled a little. He seemingly hadn't considered that before.

“So you are saying that my class is actually based on that old titan? What does that mean?”

“Could be just a coincidence,” Will said. “Maybe for some reason your class is named after it, or just is similar to.”

Messy frowned. “I have never heard of someone with a class named after the gods or the titans though.”

“Well maybe it’s because he is not from here. It could be more common in the north.”

“So are you saying his class is really modeled after her?”

“I don’t really remember all the details,” Will said. “But I think she was kind of the representation of war and the ocean.”

“War and the ocean? That’s an odd combo.”

“Not when you think about it,” Will shrugged. “Both are violent and unpredictable. The Ibustians, who kind of started the whole myths, lived strewn over a few dozen islands. The ocean was almost accompanied with war for them. That’s where the enemies came form:”

“Do your abilities have anything to do with war or the ocean?” Messy asked.

“He has these extra arm things.” Will interjected.

“Tentacles;” Marcel corrected. “And yes, some of my skills seem to have something with water. Maybe not the ocean, but water.”

“What about the war part?”

“I don’t know, there is my [Spear Proficiency] skill. And one which boosts my dexterity and reaction somewhat. Oh and my Pierce skill.”

“How many skills do you have?” Will asked.

“Seven.”

“Seven?” Messy’s voice became raised and high pitched. “This is getting more and more ridiculous.”

“Why?” Marcel asked. “I thought it's pretty common to have five to ten skills.”

“For workmen and crafter classes, yes.” Will said. “But as a combat class? I have three and Messy has four.”

“Oh,” Marcel said.

He hadn’t expected that. As a [Stable Boy] it hadn’t felt any special to have his seven skills. He had heard some smiths and kept in the tavern talking about having up to ten. But he had never heard any adventurers talking about them.

“It’s a touchy topic for most adventures,” Will smiled. “We don’t really like to talk about it most of the time. It’s a big ground for comparison and rivalries. Especially for the higher ups. It wasn’t unheard of for them to start a brawl when a commoner claimed he had more skills then them. It makes them feel somewhat bad since it’s the only thing one can’t really influence.

“But they could get new skills though, no?”

“Well they could, but that sort of thing only happens if you truly risk your life on a mission. You have to go beyond what you thought you were capable of for that to happen.” Will said. “The chances simply aren’t very high with the sort of cushy jobs. Most of the nobles take.

“That’s why you were so unhappy to throw in your lot with them?” Marcel asked.

Messy flinched. “It is safe pay. But it’s kind of giving up on adventuring,” she said.

Will looked to the floor.

After a few moments of silence, Messy began to shake her head and laugh.

“And to think we pushed you away for dragging us down. What do levels matter if we consider those things? Now it turns out you don’t just have an exorbitant number of skills. You also seem to have a class blessed by one of the old titans. You probably have a more blessed foundation than most nobles in the city.”

“Still I’m somewhat underleveled.”

Will had been getting more and more quiet during the conversation. But at this point, he simply got up and stormed off.

“Will” Marcel started getting up to go after him.

Messy put her hand on his arm. “Let him go.”

“What does he have?” Marcel turned towards Messy.

“I think he’s mad at you.”

“Mad at me? What did I do?”

“Well maybe not at you directly, but mad in general. Do you know how hard he has worked to get to where he is? Mage classes are notoriously hard to level. He has put himself on the line quite a few times just to keep up with me.”

“And now he finds out my class is basically a cheat.”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

Marcel knew that adventuring wasn’t even what Will had wanted. He remembered their last conversation. The man had pretty much just started because of his sister, to support and help her. He couldn’t imagine how much he must’ve put into it for her. And now he came along and was almost on their level after only a few months.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t go after him?” Marcel asked.

“Yes, let him brood. He will come to himself again, just give him some time. At some point he will realize again how great he is and then he will be fine again. He doesn’t hold it against you. It’s just… I know this really wasn’t even his first choice, he questions our path a lot.”

Marcel knew a thing or two about questioning one's own path. It’s pretty much what he had done for most of his old life. All that could help one navigate was time. He had learned that the hard way.

Interestingly enough he had never felt unsure about his path since arriving in this world. He had despised the stable work, sure, but after getting his new class it was like things had simply been clear for him.

Maybe he was more meant for this world than he had thought in the beginning.

“Be careful not to let one of the aristocratic houses now.” Messy interrupted his train of thoughts.

“Let them know what?”

“That you have this unique class and an ass load of skills.”

“It’s not an ass load.”

“For a noble with only five skills, it might as well be. They don’t like to think of commoners as equals, much less superiors.”

“It’s just skills…”

“Trust me on that, don’t let them know.”

“Why though?”

“Best case they try to adopt you. Worst case, and the most likely one, they will hunt you down for being competition. You don’t want to be an aristocratic competition.”