Jake Kem had always known he was destined for greatness. Half-remembered shadows of dreams spoke of glory, impelled him even as a child to reach for excellence. He worked hard on his family's farm, training up his [Strength] and [Endurance], and every week when his family would go to market, he would run around town, seeing everything he could about the various Professions. His Da would often find the boy pestering the local [Smith], the [Miller], the [Enchanter], or any of dozens of tradesmen, voracious to learn about how things worked, but the most common place for the lad to end up was at the library.

Jake devoured information about Classes and Professions. He wouldn't be stuck with the [Child] Class forever, and deep within himself, he knew it would be important to hit the ground running once he reached 15 and came of age. So he studied everything he could about known Classes and the requirements to unlock them. And the more he learned, the more sure he became that he would never make anything of himself in a sleepy little farming community. No, it was the life of an adventurer for him, by ten years old he was sure of it! That was where greatness and glory were to be found, seeking out ancient ruins, hunting down Renegades, fighting back incursions from goblins or trolls, or even being a Companion to a [Hero] out to vanquish a demon lord! There was all so much excitement to be had!

There was only one problem: there was no Adventurers' Guild in town. And why should there be? Nestled deep in the cozy heartland of the Lilac Kingdom, nothing ever happened in a sleepy little place like Saylia. The nearest Dungeon was four days' journey to the east, the borderlands a week to the west, and the capital further still, off to the north. All his hometown was really good for was growing food to ship off to more important places. But what kind of fledgling adventurer would Jake be if he let a little thing like that stop him?

Obsessively hoarding every copper he could get his hands on, the boy saved up until, at twelve, he was able to commission old Tazen, the village [Smith], to build him a sword. It cost him an entire twenty silver pieces, and waiting for the good steel to arrive and the work to be completed comprised the longest week in young Jake's life, but finally the day arrived. It was his! Grasping the length of steel in both hands by the hilt, he thrust it up over his head in the most dramatic pose he could imagine, his imagination conjuring up a fanfare as he took up the first treasured possession of his soon-to-be-fabled career.

"Careful with that, lad," Tazen said. "Ya always were a sober and serious one. Wouldn'a built this for ya if ya weren't. It's not very sharp, but ya can still hurt someone, or ya ownself, if ya go swinging it around careless-like, ya hear?"

"I hear," he said, sliding the blade into the leather sheathe he'd commissioned for it, fastened to his belt. It got stuck halfway in and needed a bit of wiggling to work the blade all the way down, but soon it was resting safely inside. He hurried back home to practice forms, from diagrams he had meticulously copied out of a sword-form manual in the library. He'd been practicing with sticks up until now, but going over the forms while having the weight of a real sword in his hands?

Apparently that made all the difference.

You have gained the [Sword] skill at level 1.

Glee filled young Jake at his first confirmed progress towards his goals. Virtually every non-magical adventurer Class required at least one level of a weapon proficiency, and as he'd never had much in the way of magical aptitude, [Fighter] seemed like a good start for him.

From that day on, every spare moment Jake could find, he devoted to training. He would still diligently attend to his duties around the farm, but every spare moment he got, he was working on forms, studying the exploits of great adventurers and [Hero]es, and even occasionally sparring with the town guards, who were happy to indulge the youth's enthusiasm on a slow day. (And nearly every day in Saylia was a slow day for the guards!)

Three days before his fateful fifteenth birthday, at the end of a hard afternoon of practice, Jake finally received a long-awaited notification from the [System].

Your [Sword] skill has advanced to level 6.

With his sparring practice with the town guards, he had also trained [Shield] to level 2 and [Combat Footwork] to level 3. Surely he was destined to become the greatest [Fighter] ever to come out of Saylia!

His fifteenth birthday came and went, his family giving him a small, private celebration at their home. But Jake knew — they all knew, really — that the true Big Day was three days hence.

You are eligible to select your first Class.

The System may have said he was ready, but without the aid of a [Priest]'s [Pathing] skill he was at an impasse, and the [Priest] for their area couldn't make it to town until the weekend. So Jake waited, waited, waited, as the longest three days of his life passed. Longer even than the week he had waited for his sword, he was sure of it, mathematics and reason notwithstanding!

Finally the weekend came, and his parents brought him into town for the most momentous day of his young life. They made their way to the town square, where the [Priest] was waiting. He was a wizened old man, his hair white and thinning, falling to his shoulders, his skin wrinkled and cracked in places, but his eyes showed that the old cleric's mind was as sharp as it had ever been.

"A pathing," the [Priest] beamed as Jake approached. "This is one of the most joyous of my duties. Tell me, what's your name, young man?"

"Jake Kem," he said. "And I'm going to be an adventurer, I just know it!"

"Perhaps, perhaps," the [Priest] said, his tone calm and measured. "Intricate and subtle are Kelos' ways. You may well find what you seek, but you could also find that great surprises lie in store for you instead." He looked Jake in the eyes and solemnly intoned the ritual words. "Have you come to choose your path?"

"I have," Jake responded just as solemnly, feeling the weight of the moment bearing down upon him.

"Will you willingly accept a path that the [System] lays before you?"

"I will."

"Will you strive to ever do good with the gifts the [System] bestows, to defend rather than destroy, to build up rather than tear down, to heal rather than harm?"

"I will."

The [Priest] held out his hands, and took both of Jake's hands in his. "Then choose."

You have been granted a path. You may choose your first Class.

• [Farmer]

• [Scholar]

• [Fighter]

• [Bulwark]

• [Hero]

[Farmer] and [Fighter] were entirely unsurprising. [Bulwark] was, to Jake's mind, simply a variant on [Fighter], one who relied more on defending against enemy attacks than on actually attacking. So much of his training had involved sparring with guards who severely outmatched him, so he had spent a lot of time on defense. Perhaps the [System] had taken this into account?

[Scholar] was a bit of a surprise. He'd never really thought of himself as one, but looking back, he'd spent nearly as much of his young life studying and learning about adventurers as he had actually training with the sword. Not his preference, but he could perhaps see how it could apply to him.

But it was none of these mundane occupations that rocked Jake to his core. Being offered the [Hero] class? Such an idea had never even entered into his mind outside wild flights of fantasy. It was not a Class whose requirements he had studied, for one simple reason: it had no known requirements, other than "worthiness." When a Demon Lord arose, the [System] would produce a [Hero] to oppose him. That was the way it had always been.

If he was being offered this Class now, that meant the Demon Lord had already arisen. The whole Lilac Kingdom could be in danger, or even the entire world!

To Jake, the choice was no choice at all. What else could his heart possibly permit him to do? If the [System] found him worthy, who was he to deny it?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

You are now a level 1 [Hero].

You gain the skill [Sense Corruption] at level 1.

You gain the spell [Minor Purify] at level 1.

You gain the skill [Leadership] at level 1.

He had a spell? Jake gasped as knowledge flooded into his mind, expanding his senses, bringing him to a basic, intrinsic understanding of the arcane, of the workings of the mana that underpinned reality, of how demonic presence could twist it to Corruption, and how he could reverse that Corruption. In that moment, he understood. This was what a [Hero] was. Any adventurer could fight, even against demons, but only with the power of purification could demons truly be unmade, and the havoc they wreaked upon the world pacified.

"Is everything all right, lad?" the [Priest] asked.

Jake looked at him with awe in his eyes. "It made me a [Hero]," he whispered.

"Oh," the [Priest] said sadly. "This is grave news indeed. Dark times come. If the [System] has chosen a [Hero], you must travel to the capital immediately and present yourself before the [King]."

Jake glanced over at his parents, standing nearby. "Immediately?" he asked, alarmed.

The [Priest] looked upon the youth with compassion. "Well... taking one last night to say goodbye couldn't hurt," he said.

But Jake shook his head. If the need was that urgent, how could he let a comparatively minor, selfish desire like that get in the way? He needed to do what was right, no matter the cost.

It was the worst mistake he would ever make.

"Ma, Da, I... I don't know how to say this," he told them. "But... the [System] has blessed me with a Class I never thought possible."

His father looked at him with pride. "All that training paid off, and now you're going to go out and protect the Kingdom?" He clapped Jake on the shoulder. "Always knew you'd go far, son."

Jake shook his head. "No. Well... yes, but..." There was just no good way to say it, other than to say it. "It gave me [Hero]."

Now it was Da's turn to gasp, and Ma cried out in anguish, wrapping her arms around Da. "Then you have to leave?" she asked through moistening eyes.

"I do," he said solemnly. "But I will hold you forever in my heart, and I swear to you, no demons will trouble Saylia so long as I draw breath. But I am needed in the capital, to assemble a party to fight the Demon Lord."

Ma suddenly pulled away from Da, turning and hugging Jake tightly. "You go," she whispered fiercely in his ear. "Go and fight for us, if that's the path the [System] has set for you. But you come back to us, do you hear?"

Jake hugged her back, a little uncertain how to handle this. "Yes Ma," he said softly. "I will."

Soon thereafter, the circuit-riding [Priest] canceled the remainder of his travel arrangements and had his coachman set out, carrying himself and the newly-arisen [Hero]. Over the next two days, Jake talked with him about all manner of subjects, from the doctrines of Kelos to the political intricacies of the Kingdom to tales of adventurers to foreign languages.

Early on the third day of their trip, they arrived in the minor city of Andirrin, home to a local branch of the Adventurers' Guild. The [Priest] led him inside and spoke with the clerk, telling him that this young man had urgent business in the capital, and he was willing to pay the teleportation fee out of his own pocket. He handed the clerk the exorbitant sum of three gold pieces, more money than Jake had ever seen in his life, and the clerk Jake him to a back room, where he was told he would not feel a thing; he was simply to shut the door, count slowly to ten, and open it again, and he would emerge in a different guildhall.

So he did, and it was exactly that simple, if a bit disorienting: the room he saw when he opened the door was not the room that had been there a tencount ago.

All alone, Jake stepped out into a crowded common room. Tables were set throughout, with armored and robed men and women sitting around them, gossiping, eating, or simply relaxing and listening to the resident [Bard] as they prepared for their day. He approached the nearest table, looking around at the small group of three adventurers sitting there, chatting with each other.

"Please, sirs, I require your aid," Jake addressed them.

"Wow," a grizzled-looking dwarf commented. "Is it just me or do the greenies look younger every passing year?"

"Nah, that's just you getting old. Whaddya need, kid?" asked his companion, a human maybe ten years Jake's senior, with an ornately carved, crystal-topped staff propped against his chair.

"I was told I need to speak with the [King]," Jake said. "I was granted the Class of [Hero], and that means a Demon Lord comes. I must help to prepare the realm."

The [Mage]'s eyes widened at the explanation. "Well, I can't get you into the palace, lad, but I know who can." He gestured to the door. "Go out and to your left, down the street three blocks, turn left and one block down, you'll find a courthouse. Speak to a [Magistrate] inside to get the help you need."

"Oh! Thank you, sir!" Jake said gratefully. "Kelos' blessings to you!"

"Poor fool," the [Mage] said once he had left. "Looked so earnest, like he actually believed he's a [Hero]."

"You did the right thing, Charles," his dwarven companion said. "Last thing anyone needs around here is another Renegade uprising; over in Derro they're still picking up the pieces after the last one."

Unaware of the fate that awaited him, Jake made his way down the street, easily finding the promised courthouse. A bored-looking clerk sat in the antechamber, looking up at him as he entered. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, I was told to come here," Jake said. "I need an audience with the [King]."

"For what purpose?" the clerk asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"The [System] has bestowed upon me the Class of [Hero]. That means that a Demon Lord arises, and we must prepare!"

The clerk looked at him, shocked by the brazenness of his request. "So you've come here, directly, with your petition?"

"Yes, I must speak with the [King]. I was told that a [Magistrate] could arrange it."

"I see. Come with me, I'll take care of things." She led him to a waiting room, and once the compliant youth was seated inside, quietly gestured to two nearby guards to watch the door. The lad looked harmless enough, but one could never tell what kind of hidden abilities Renegades might have.

Inside, Jake waited patiently as an hour passed, and then the better part of a second one. He understood that the [King] must be a busy man, and arranging an audience, even for an urgent matter, would take some time. Just as he was beginning to fidget, the door opened and a local guard looked in. "The [Magistrate] will see you now. Come with me."

The guard led him to a nearby courtroom, largely empty but for a few functionaries. One of them, at the center of the far side of the room, stood behind a raised podium. "Young man, I am told you seek an audience with the [King]. What is your name?"

"Jake Kem, sir. The [System] chose me as a [Hero], and that means it is urgent that we prepare to meet the rising Demon Lord."

The [Magistrate] looked intently at Jake and muttered "[Appraisal]." Then, "Hmmm, so it's true. You do show the [Hero] Class. And as your very first Class, too. Impressive. I've never seen a Renegade so young."

A wave of icy fear passed over Jake. "Renegade, sir?"

"I would love to hear how you accomplished it. There have been a dozen Renegades over the past few decades, with no identifiable connections between them, and every one protested innocence, swore they were a true Hero preparing for a true threat of a Demon Lord who never arrived. Tell me honestly, how did you manage to falsify your [Status] like that?"

"I... I... have no idea what you mean, sir," Jake stammered, nearly paralyzed by fear. Renegades were the very worst kind of criminals, false Heroes who used their deceptive status for personal ends, committing murders or inciting revolts. "The Class of [Hero] was truly bestowed upon me, less than a week ago."

The [Magistrate] scoffed at his protestation of innocence. "Whoever is behind this has trained you well," he said. "But whoever they are, they always forget the most important point. When a Demon Lord arises, the [System] brings forth a [Hero] to oppose him. I assure you, your claim has been taken seriously. I have spent the past hour in contact with foreign diplomats and with our outposts throughout the Lilac Kingdom, and every last one told me the same thing: there are no signs of demonic activity.

"Jake Kem, you stand charged as a Renegade, and the evidence against you is undeniable. The law is very clear on this point: to falsely claim the Class of [Hero] in the absence of a Demon Lord is punishable by death. Given your young age, this court is willing to show mercy, but you must cooperate. Please, lad, who taught you to conceal your true [Status]? If you wish to do right in this Kingdom, help us finally put an end to this plague of Renegades."

"But I am a true [Hero], sir," Jake protested. "Please, you must believe me!"

"Then where is your Demon Lord?" the [Magistrate] asked sternly. "Do you know something our scouts and diplomats are unaware of? Has he attacked your hometown, perhaps?"

"Me?" Jake asked, his fear giving way to annoyance. "Why have you not found him? The job of the [Hero] is to fight the Demon Lord, not to locate him, and to cleanse the Corruption he brings." In desperation, his mind seized upon a possible proof. "Could a false [Hero] do that?" Drawing upon the newly-discovered magical wellspring within, Jake closed his eyes and began to chant the arcane words to invoke [Minor Purify].

"Casting! Casting!" the guards at the back of the room cried out in alarm. In one smooth, swift motion, one of them drew a hand crossbow and put a bolt through Jake's heart. The accused Renegade gasped, stumbled, and fell to the floor, dead within moments.

The [Magistrate]'s face went pale at the sudden turn of events. Had the Renegade just tried to assassinate him? In the middle of his own courtroom? He slumped forward against the podium, trembling. "Th... thank you," he said to the guard. That had been a terrifying moment! He breathed deeply, getting his heartbeat back under control while the guards dragged the Renegade's body away to be disposed of. At least now, life could go back to normal.

The very next day, news reached the capital that chilled the [Magistrate] to his core. A throng of demons had overrun an outpost on the edge of the Trackless Wood.

"The boy," he whispered, feeling sick. The fledgling [Hero], whose name the [Magistrate] had already forgotten, had not been wrong at all; he had simply been early. One day too early. And now, it was one day too late for the entire Lilac Kingdom.