The class selection screen floated before Darian’s eyes. The list of available classes was short, numbering only three.
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[Warrior]
[Rogue]
[Mage]
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Upon closer inspection, Darian realized the list of visible classes extended, branching out from the three starter classes in a massive, interconnected web. But the names of all the other classes were grayed out. Linking the [Warrior] and [Mage] classes was a class called [Spellblade]. Upon touching the class’s name, another screen appeared, listing its requirements.
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Spellblade Requirements
* 2 Warrior
* 2 Mage
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The further away from the starter classes he looked, the more extreme the requirements became. Some, like [Rune Lord] required levels in two different advanced classes. None required anything higher than Lv. 10 in any one class, which led Darian to believe that 10 was the highest level any individual class could reach.
Eventually the list was cut short at a submenu titled [Unique Classes] that Darian couldn’t access. Looking over the three starter classes and the first few advanced offerings, he did his best to make an educated decision.
Since his illness kept him indoors most of his life, gaming had been one of Darian’s favorite pastimes. RPGs and strategy games were his favorite, though he would never claim to be good at either of them. RPGs in particular were more for role playing than trying to Min-Max or learn the game’s system. But this world was real, with real threats and dangers. With that in mind, he went over the three classes on offer again and again, weighing what could be the pros and cons of each.
Rogue and Warrior would boost his physical stats and give him basic knowledge of weapons, while Mage would expand his knowledge of both the arcane and the world around him. When gaming, Darian always gravitated toward either pure magic casters or warriors. Though with the way the class progression seemed set up, classing into different types seemed beneficial. The only class he was quick to dismiss was Rogue, at least for now. It would make him faster, increase his Perception, and give him basic knowledge of traps and lockpicking. It would also make him proficient with bows, but he didn’t have one at the moment or a way to get one.
Mage would give him access to the basic offensive spells [Flare] and [Shard]. This would also boost his Arcane attribute, which would boost his magic damage, and also Fortitude which would increase his resistance to enemy spells.
The fight with the wolf played again in his mind, the desperate, close struggle between them being brought to a brutal close by the rusty sword still in the cave. If it wasn’t for that sword, he might have died. That, combined with his enjoyment of his current physical abilities, pushed Darian to select Warrior.
I can also choose Mage when I level up again, if I end up wanting to do that. The system seemed to incentivize multiclassing, so he saw no reason to pick anything other than the option that would help him the most in the immediate future.
As soon as his fingers pressed [Warrior] on the screen, a list of the classes’ benefits appeared along with a message asking if he was sure about his decision.
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Warrior Lv. 1
* Strength: +2
* Dexterity: +1
* Constitution: +2
* Skills: Determined Strike
* Proficiencies: Basic Weapons
* Martial Weapons
* Light Armor
* Medium Armor
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Are you sure?
(Yes)(No)
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After he hit (Yes) the screen disappeared, and a red glow enveloped him. Though it was slight, he felt himself grow stronger. He tested his arms and legs, the small amount of newfound strength flowing through his body. He opened his main menu and selected [Class Skills] which was now open to him.
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Class Skills
* Determined Strike
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Determined Strike
* This skill can be used five times per day plus the user’s total number of martial class levels (Currently: 1). The skill enhances the user's next weapon attack with an additional damage modification of (1/4th Strength) regardless of the current weapon's damage modification.
* Evolve Skill: Skill will evolve into [Precise Strike] at total martial level 10, changing the damage modification from (1/4th Strength) to (Half Strength).
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Damage modification? The sword mentioned something about that too. Curious, he retrieved it from where he’d tossed it after his fight with the wolf.
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Item Obtained: Rusty Iron Short Sword
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* Weight: 2 Pounds
* Damage: 10 + (1/4th) Strength Modification
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Just like how his thoughts were tethered to the squirrel when he was using [Command Animal], his thoughts seemed to have a connection with the sword. By asking What is 1/4th of my strength? With his thoughts, a small box appeared with the number (4) at its center. Good thing it does this for me, I hate math.
Feeling a little overwhelmed with all the information he’d just absorbed, Darian took a few practice swings with the sword. It felt…different somehow. He wasn’t some hardened sword master or anything, but there was a slight grace to his swings. He instinctively knew how to pivot his hips with each strike and how to guide the edge of the blade for maximum damage.
Satisfied, he returned to the skeleton of the dead warrior. Though his bones looked a bit gnawed on, it was clear by his rusty armor that he’d been dead long before the wolf arrived. Looking down at the wolf’s body, Darian inspected the slash across its leg. He’d originally assumed that it was wounded by another animal, but his newfound knowledge told him the blow was delivered by a blade. One much like the short sword he carried.
Need to be careful, then. For all Darian knew, everyone in this new world was a vampire. But until he knew how the people of this world would react to him, he would keep his distance. The wolf’s wound was still mostly fresh when Darian arrived, probably delivered only a few hours before he showed up. Whoever did it was probably still alive, maybe even close.
Darian glanced out at the thick woodlands and remembered that he was still naked. I really need to do something about that. Placing the sword down he inspected the warrior’s torn attire. What remained of his clothes existed as tattered strips. Jerking on the man’s armor, Darian discovered a mostly intact shirt behind it. It was moth eaten and smelt like stale urine, but it would have to do.
He tried to remove the chest piece gently, but the remaining leather straps binding the front and back together were clamped tightly to the skeleton. Sorry about this. With a jerk, he tore it free, the rattling of loose bones consuming the small cave. Blowing some dust off the hunk of iron in his hands, Darian placed it on the ground and set to removing the shirt. It’s a shame the chest piece doesn’t fit me. I have a gut feeling I could use it. With the shirt free, he gathered some of the loose strips of cloth that used to be the man’s pants.
His Warrior class didn’t tell him how to fashion something wearable out of what he gathered, but he’d tied a few knots and worked with cloth a bit in his past life. He never imagined the time he spent around his mother while she knitted, crocheted, and tailored would come in handy. He used to annoy her so much that she’d send him back to his room. Though he couldn’t blame her, he did have a habit of cutting up fabric and making silly costumes out of them. “Look Mom, I’m a super hero!” Darian smiled. Thank you, Mom.
It took him longer than he would have liked, but he ended up fashioning himself something resembling a loin cloth. He slipped it on and adjusted it. He probably looked ridiculous, but it was better than leaving all his private bits open for the world to see. At least now if I see someone and they start screaming it’s not because I’m flashing them with my junk.
He grabbed the warrior’s sword belt and strapped them to his waist. It surprisingly fit well, and he felt a moment of satisfaction as he slid the blade into its scabbard.
“Now for my next bit of business.” He looked around at the scattered bones that littered the cave floor. “I need to do something about this mess.”
There was no way to know how long Darian would need to use the cave for shelter, and it made no sense to leave it in the filthy state it was in. The first thing he did was move all the bones out into a pile, careful to keep the warrior’s bones separate. He might have been long dead, but he had helped Darian survive. It would be disrespectful to bury someone like that with a bunch of animal bones.
“How do I go about digging a hole?” Darian found a small clearing down the rock face that housed his cave. It would do, but he didn’t have a shovel. The dirt was soft, and he was strong, but there had to be a better way than using his hands. It’s a shame the warrior didn’t also die with a shovel.
Back at the cave, Darian scooped up the metal cuirass. He flipped it this way and that, noticing the curvature along the bottom. Maybe? He brought it to the pond and grabbed a large rock. The chest piece was too small for him to wear, so smashing it into some kind of useful tool wasn’t too much of a waste. He tore out the leather connecting the two halves and put them aside. Might come in handy later. Using the rock, he beat one side of the iron chunk in the middle and upper half, creating a larger divot. With a smile he brought it up to the moonlight. It wasn’t quite a real shovel, but it was wider and deeper than his hands. He would have to make do.
He wrapped his hands with some of the leftover cloth to avoid cutting them and jabbed his makeshift shovel into the ground. It wasn’t elegant, and it probably wasn’t much more time efficient than using his hands, but he felt a moment of pride as he scooped the first round of dirt up and tossed it away. It’s silly. He thought to himself. I’m having fun digging a damn hole. But he couldn’t help but smile. A year ago, his health had worsened, leaving him completely bedridden. Going to the bathroom was a struggle then, but now he was strong enough to do something. He was making a change, creating something with his hands that wasn’t there before. He dug faster and faster, and before long had a hole a few feet deep.
He gathered up the random animal bones that’d been in the cave and tossed them in. I hope I dug this deep enough. I really don’t want another wolf on my hands. Speaking of that. The wolf’s body was thrown in next. Then he placed the squirrel in, gently laying it down on top of the wolf. With all of them inside there was still a few feet to work with. He contemplated leaving the hole open, after all it wasn’t as if these were the last animals he would need to kill. But in the end, he pushed the dirt over them, resolving to dig more holes when the time came.
The warrior was buried a few paces away, his hole a slight bit deeper. Darian made sure to inspect the shape of the man’s skull and teeth before he filled the grave in. No fangs or anything out of the ordinary. I guess I can rule out everyone being vampires in this world. When he was finished, Darian walked back to the large rock by the pond. He sat atop it and crossed his legs, looking out over the spray of multicolored stars that dotted the sky.
A pang of loneliness washed over him. He tried to bury it, suppress it under the wonders of the dazzling horizon, but he couldn’t. In truth, he didn’t have much in his past life. A small bedroom choked with fantasy books and magazines, a desk with a gaming PC and a warm bed. He had no friends, the few acquaintances he had existing only as occasional online gaming partners. Definitely no girlfriend. No siblings or pets. But he had his parents. Despite his waning health, they never lost hope that he would beat his cancer.
What’s done is done. He grinned at the stars. Even if I’m some kind of monster, even if this world hates me, I’ve been given a blessing. A second chance. There was a whole world stretched out before him to explore, one that he didn’t have to see through a screen or imagine through a page. He could walk on his own two feet, use his own two hands. And he would.
Darian stood, his shoulders proud, his eyes wet with tears of both joy and sorrow. I will not mope. I’ll miss you, Mom and Dad, always. But I will seize this new life and drink my fill of it. I’ll become the kind of man you’d be proud of. He scanned the forest, the distant mountain, felt the rush of cool air on his skin, the scent of pine and wildflowers in his nose. He stretched his arms out wide as if welcoming this new world in his embrace.
This was his new beginning.