Chapter 25: One and the Same
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A beam of red, divine energy crackled from Xander’s blade, searing through the air as it arced across the chamber. Before the wight even had a chance to block the first burst, a second arc, then a third… each strike exploded with massive force upon impact, sending waves of heat and sound rippling through the entire area.
“Now!” Xander shouted over his shoulder, before rushing forward without any hesitation.
Mentally gesturing for his mana surge ability to activate, Bly quickly doubled into issuing his summons to move forward. The arcane blade sliced as it approached, and the cluster of jackalwings buzzed around in attacking formation, until the wight was surrounded on all sides.
Stepping off his front foot, Bly rushed ahead to maneuver himself into a better casting position. With his joint summons sufficiently aiding Xander, he immediately pivoted and began pumping out elemental spells one after the other in quick succession. Fire and ice battered the undead, synergized by the erratic red flurry of Xander’s sword strikes, as well as the attacks of his own summons.
The wight stepped right suddenly, taking a direct attack from the swordsman, before leaning to the other side and cutting the summoned sword straight out of the air. But Bly wasn’t letting it off that easy, quickly overriding a spell to allow for yet another conjured weapon to form as to keep the pressure on.
However, the wight broke left, extending a combination of attacks at Xander. Within a few hefty sword strokes, the swordsman was now forced onto his backfoot, despite the radial ward and the hasten spell buffing him, prompting Bly to pivot into defensive spellcasting. Xander dodged left, parried one—no, two strikes. The wight pulled back in the lull, raising its blade in front of it.
“Trelen, shield yourself!” Xander shouted hurriedly, against the imminent glow of the iridescent blade.
Hardly blinking, Bly muttered to himself, “Swift shield.”
The expulsion of burning light from the weapon erupted throughout the chamber.
Blychert winced, casting his gaze through the illuminated veil as it began to dim once more. His summoned swarm and conjured weapon were sundered in a flash, but more gravely, the wight had bypassed Xander, and was now on top of him!
Shields burst, icicles and firebolts collided, and Blychert was only thankful for the small advantage of his active buffs, though he was otherwise put on the backfoot against such a powerful flurry of attacks. Mana surge suddenly expired, but Bly merely gestured for it to reactivate, further turning the wight’s successful hits into an even greater advantage for himself.
Abruptly, a single sword stroke ripped his latest barrier spell to shreds, and a second strike cut him deep, from shoulder to rib, causing his spellcasting to sputter out.
Blychert fell backward, glancing up in fear to where the wight now stood looming over him, the iridescent blade already beginning to bloom with familiar devastating light.
The wight’s burning red eyes narrowed, as it thrust its arm downward in complete defiance.
“Trelen!” Xander shouted, thrusting himself at the wight from behind all at once.
The swordsman’s blade wrapped around the wight’s neck, and he pulled with all his weight, forcing both of them backwards into a grappled stalemate.
Bly gritted through the pain radiating in his side, and rose to his feet. But he paused for a moment, considering his options in the small window of time that had been presented to him. Exhaling a slow breath, he adjusted his left arm beneath his right arm to give himself more stability, and winced, aiming ahead of him with only one play in mind.
“Binding element, let the depths of frost take root.” He muttered, fully drained but focused. Xander had given him an opening, and hell if he wasn’t going to take it. At the last moment, Bly raised his other hand, choosing to swap into a dual cast instead for maximum power, saying, “From the heart of winter’s embrace, I summon with might, an icy bond, swift and merciless. Freezing chain!”
The supercharged elemental energy streaked across the gap at speed, wrapping around the wight’s blade-wielding arm head-on, just as he had tried to do before. But in this motion, Bly instead thrust the end of the chain in the far opposite direction of the chamber, which forced the undead out from within Xander’s grasp immediately, and it stumbled towards Bly.
“Swift shield, threefold lattice.” Bly muttered.
A split-second later, yellow energy coalesced into a defense shield. And just as he’d hoped, the wight impacted his barrier with a punch. The spell terminated the creature’s velocity then and there, causing its arm to rip off the rest of its body, as the magical chain continued to pull. The defensive energy dissipated in a singular instance, and the wight’s body ricocheted back the way it had just come—back into the swordsman’s path, and without a weapon to defend itself.
A burst of red light suddenly filled the chamber, as Xander stepped forward, his expression stalwart, swinging his blade with every bit of strength he had. As the swordsman swung, an arc of searing energy forced its way through the base of the wight’s neck. And for a moment, time stood still.
The wight’s severed head tumbled from the rest of its body a second later, and all of it collapsed to the ground, unmoving.
Blychert stood still, staring ahead of him.
A quiet suddenly fell over the chamber, or perhaps it was the dungeon in which the silence grew. The light of Xander’s blade dimmed shortly thereafter, and all else fell to a darkened, gray-shaded state once more.
Bly’s heart pounded in his ears, and before he knew it, he’d simply fallen to his knees, desperate to catch his breath. He was beyond exhausted—completely spent, and the wound on his side was beginning to hurt even more now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear thin.
Slowly, he raised his hands up to feel around on his face, a sigh of relief washing over him as he smiled.
He was still alive.
But more importantly, so was that damned swordsman.
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[SAGE ---> Raven System Notification]
[Experience removed: -933 xp]
[Experience gained: +630 xp]
[Experience total: 13,087 xp]
[Cumulative total: 20,131 xp]
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Blychert glanced at the terminal prompt, and couldn't help but grunt amusedly.
In the last week alone, he’d spent more experience than he should have. But even still, that didn’t seem to matter much to him all of a sudden. Putting everything he had to work in service of some semblance of a good thing seemed like an okay use of such a forbidden skillset to him. If he could just find a way to be more subtle about it, or perhaps even find a way to trust others with his secret—then maybe he didn’t have to be so alone after all.
Just maybe, that distant dream of adventure wasn't so daunting.
A low rumbling coursed through the dungeon all of a sudden, causing Bly to curiously shift his attention.
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[Party]
> Now delving the [Gleaming Caves], floor [3]
> Core Volatility: 35%
> Active Wayshrine(s): Entrance, Chamber of the Vanguard Golem, Chamber of the Light Devourer
> Daily Bonus Reward: Kill [20] Ice Demons [Complete]
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Bly chuckled
Had the others been fighting all this time just to do their part? Well, whatever it was, it seemed to be working. And that was good enough for him.
“You alright?” Xander asked softly, a certain weariness in his voice.
Glancing up, Bly hadn’t even noticed that the swordsman had walked across the chamber, and was now holding the iridescent blade in his hand. By the dimming light of both blades, Xander stood over the inanimate body of the wight, looking back towards where Bly sat. with a look of concern.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Bly gave a worried nod in response, not entirely sure what to do now that it was over. He had just exposed himself to the swordsman, after all. So, all he could do now was await the dreaded reaction. But strangely enough, the one he'd been expecting never came.
“…Glad to hear it.” Xander sighed. Slowly, he worked his way down onto the ground himself, and took a seat. He paused, groaning somewhat as he found a more comfortable position, before looking up at Bly, saying, “I guess this means you were holding out on us after all, huh?”
Bly’s brow creased apologetically, and he conceded, “…Yeah.”
“Powerful class, my ass…” Xander smirked, arbitrarily kicking the disintegrating wight head a little farther away from he sat. He then brandished the iridescent blade in his hand, which made a whistling sound through the air, “You know, I can understand why you didn’t trust me with a secret like that. Hell, I don’t blame you for one second. But classless? That’s a bit like the pot calling kettle black, don’t you think? Not to excuse my behavior these last few weeks, but… for someone in your position, you really kind of chewed me out, you know that? I deserved it, I’m just—I’m glad we can finally see eye to eye, is all.”
Blychert frowned, his gaze sinking low.
This whole time, he’d lied about everything—about what he was, about what his reasons for delving were, about everything there was to know about him. And yet, he’d been perfectly fine casting his judging gaze at the swordsman for his contradictions and deceptions. Alyse was right, trust had been broken, if it had even been established at all. and Bly was every bit to blame too. Xander had every right to be furious with him, but he wasn't.
Xander's heart really was in the right place, even if his priorities weren't. That alone was deserving of an apology.
“…I’m sorry.” Bly murmured coldly, and he could feel the lump beginning to form in the back of this throat, “I—I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, not when I was never the person I said I was either.”
“Hm.” Xander grunted with a small smirk. Weighty footsteps resounded through the chamber momentarily, until the swordsman was standing directly in front of where Blychert sat. Looking up, Bly saw Xander extend a hand down to him, smirking behind a layer of dirt and blood, “Hey, forget about it. As far as I'm concerned, I know exactly who you are. You just showed me. Now, come on, let’s at least try to pretend we know the way out of here.”
Bly grinned awkwardly, not entirely sure he was deserving of clemency, but relieved to accept the swordsman’s gesture, nonetheless.
***
By the time they began backtracking, it was readily apparent that despite their current situation, the dungeon itself had taken on an eerily docile, almost abandoned atmosphere. As such, it didn't take them long to locate their camping spot, and Xander was quick to divvy up the last of his rations, allowing both of them to rest a bit. Almost immediately, Bly reached into his own supplies and pulled out the last of his healing potions, but Xander stopped him.
“Let me.” He insisted, placing a hand on Bly’s shoulder.
A warm glow filled Xander’s palm, and Bly immediately felt a soothing balm trickle throughout the entirety of his wound. It sustained for a few seconds, but was gone again just as quickly. Xander pulled his hand away, and gestured for them to get going.
Only after it seemed like neither of them could go on walking any longer, they found a new area to stop and rest. They didn’t have much in the way of supplies left, and so they simply found a defensible corner to lie low in. The dungeon had gone quiet, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way forever.
“Don’t suppose you think we’ll make it out of here?” Bly asked randomly in the silence.
“…Nope.” Xander said belatedly, and he too seemed just about spent of all physical energy, lying down completely at that point. With whatever strength he could draw on, he raised the iridescent blade above his head, and wiggled it a little, “But, at least I’ve got this. I can die a happy man now.”
Bly rolled his eyes, “Are you really even a swordsman?”
It had been gnawing at him, after all. Especially after that healing he'd received. If Xander wasn’t really the class he said he was, wouldn’t that have made him just like Bly? Or at least, similar?
“I am.” Xander confirmed, “But… it’s complicated. Honestly? I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Bly shrugged, “The beginning never hurt.”
“Smart ass…” Xander groaned, sitting up straight after a while. He looked at Bly with a serious expression, “Okay, try this. I wasn’t always a swordsman.”
“How—”
“Let me talk.” Xander interjected, shooing at Bly to keep quiet, before restarting, “Where I’m from, we don’t have the Guild. Try that it might, and for whatever reason, it just hasn’t really been able to break into Trave like it has in Calvergia.”
“So, how do you get a class?” Bly was confused.
“Same way you do.” Xander shrugged, “It’s just, those weird-looking administrators aren't involved. People are. Our clerics help facilitate classes for those who are ready to receive them. But you have to understand, not everyone in Trave worships the Divine as some singular, all-powerful entity, like they do in say, Greygarde or Loreley. And my family? My family never worshipped it at all.”
“I don’t…” Bly stammered, completely lost.
What else was there but the Divine?
Xander chuckled, “I know. It’s probably hard to understand. It’s the same for a lot of people in Frostwall too. Anyway, that’s not really the point.” Xander tarried for a moment, as if searching for the right words, before saying, “My grandfather is a cleric—was, a cleric. I already told you, I didn’t really know my father. He was never around. But my grandfather? Growing up, I thought he was a saint. Hell, I can’t even tell you how many people I’ve watched him help, or how many classes he’s facilitated. And when I was little, I always dreamed about the day he’d help me unlock my class too.”
“And did he?” Bly asked, filling the long pause of silence.
“Yeah…” Xander nodded, his tone cold, and he narrowed his eyes somewhat, “I displayed all the markers for receiving a martial class. High athleticism and endurance, a strong battle aura, good sword skills…”
Bly nodded, remembering how it was growing up with Irvin, for whom it was just the same as Xander described it.
“On that day, nothing went like I’d hoped.” Xander continued, gritting his teeth, “He did something—manipulated my class selection, without me knowing, so that I wouldn’t get what I wanted, but what he wanted for me. And so, instead of swordsman, or anything like that, I was left with the cleric class. And the divine power I was tethered to that day… well, it's not like your Divine. It’s something else. Something… older, I think. It was something my grandfather worshipped in secret. I—I didn’t want it. I hated it. And I hated him too.”
Bly’s eyes widened, “But… how did he change it? Your class?”
Xander frowned, and pulled up his sage terminal for a moment. A second later, he was holding a long, cylindrical item in his hand.
“With this.” He replied, unfurling the material until it was splayed across the stonework.
A sudden chill ran up the entire length of Bly’s body, and he nearly gasped, startled somewhat as he moved forward to look at it. It was a thin piece of strange leathery material, no wider than a large map, but that wasn’t what made the alarm bells go off in Bly’s head. The surface of the material, a deep purple color with swirling bits of energy sprawled across it, was so familiar to him that he thought he was hallucinating.
It was Alyse’s scrying table. Or at least, it looked the exact same.
“Where did you—” Bly stammered, glaring at Xander, “How did you get this? What—?”
“Grandfather died about a year after I got my class.” Xander sat back, his tone of voice more stark than before, “He was sick for most of my life. Anyway, I had already been training as a cleric, learned skills and everything. I didn't have much of a choice. But when I found this… found his life's work, when I learned what he did, I became completely obsessed with it. It broke me, and I tried everything to change it back.”
“Tried to change… what, your class?” Bly asked wildly, unable to contain his curiosity or his concern.
Xander nodded, “I was a fighter. At least, for a fraction of a second." Xander put his hand down on the material, and said curiously, "I don't know what this is, or how he even got it, but he used this to swap our classes in that moment. He became the fighter, and I became the cleric. I think... that's why he died so quickly after I got my class. I think he was using his own abilities to sustain his lifeforce."
"But why—"
"I don't know." Xander shook his head, "And... he never told me."
Suddenly realizing the implications of what Xander was saying, he asked, "So, that means you must have swapped with someone else?"
"Grandfather." Xander replied, his voice riddled with guilt, "I was only fifteen, but if I learned anything from pouring over his work, it was that your class isn't tied to your body, it's tied to your soul. So, I dug him up, and with magic I stole from the temple where we served, I used his own rituals against him—cast his soul back into its body, if only for a brief moment. But that's all I really needed."
Bly couldn’t believe it, and simply murmured, “You... brought him back from the dead, and swapped classes with him? Again?"
So many questions ran through Bly’s head, it hurt just to think about them. But most of all, he wondered if Alyse didn’t use her item in some kind of similar way. Though without a doubt, he was going to have to tell her about this, it was simply impossible to avoid.
“It was mine to begin with.” Xander insisted, “I just... stole it back. But I couldn't stay after that. The clergy would find out what I did, and I couldn't risk them not understanding. So, I left—left Trave, left it all behind. I still had the cleric skills I'd learned, but I was new to the swordsman class, couldn't risk getting caught. Fled for Frostwall, and that… I had nothing when I got to that city. But that's when I met Norman. He took me in, helped me get back my feet, let me stay at his little church, since I had nowhere else to go. The rest is history, I suppose. I was free.”
"But... haven't they tried to find you?" Bly asked.
Xander paused, and looked down at the blade in his hand, “They've tried. But they have no standing with the Guild, so they never will. All they think is that I'm a cleric somewhere. I’ve tried to be the best swordsman I can be, tried to be a better leader. But I guess the past has a way of catching up to you."
Bly paused, unsure what to say.
He’d never seen Xander this emotional. But, the whole situation was messy. It wasn't like he'd stolen someone else's class, but he had brought someone back from the dead just to do it. Maybe someone like that deserved to feel pressure. Even still, that didn’t mean Bly was the one to apply it.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Bly said, “It seems like you've already paid the price, anyway."
“Maybe…” Xander nodded, holding out the blade for him to see, “For what it's worth, your secret's safe with me. And whenever you need a sword, I’m there. No questions asked.”
“I think this dungeon has gotten to your head.” Bly smirked. Lying down on the ground, and using his cloak as a pillow, he closed his eyes, and said, “But I’ll take a friend, if you’re still offering.”
“…You've got a deal.” Xander said belatedly, “Speaking of which, you said you weren’t Trelen earlier. So, who are you really?”
“Bly, it’s…” He replied anxiously, but smiled thereafter, realizing old habits weren’t necessary at the moment, “It’s Blychert.”
Bly didn’t know if they were about to die down here, but that wasn’t going to stop him from finally getting some sleep. And as it happened, it didn’t take too long for him to get his wish either.