From 'The Musings on the Nature of Classes', by Irsorth the Lightbringer
Do we define the nature of our Class or are we defined by it? I once met a man who had the 'Murderer' Class. As a young man, he'd fallen to the expectations thrust upon him and had murdered indiscriminantly, reveling in the power it brought him. He squashed his guilt until the day he eventually took his own life, writing a note that said he felt he had no choice, that Genesis had forced this sin upon his soul. Was he driven to commit those crimes by the pressure of the Class or was it something more insidious? Was his mind effected by something external? These are the questions that haunt my sleepless nights.
Sweat drips down my back, helping to cool me down against the overwhelming heat surrounding me. I stand with one foot on the ground, the other rising into the air with my arms balanced out in front of me. Several dozen guards circle around me, going through the same technique with varying degrees of success. Despite their attempts, only one young woman in front of me appears to fully grasp the training, keeping herself perfectly balanced despite the ever increasing complexity of the movements.
This is the fourth day of my training, which leaves me only one full day before the First Trial begins. Each morning for the past several days, just like today, is spent with the guards, working on improving their flexibility, speed, and control of their bodies. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with any of them, but my high Dexterity gives me enough self control that I’m able to keep up with the naturally talented individuals.
After finishing our final training session, I spare a casual wave to the guards as I’m leaving the training yard and I begin sprinting down the streets, my body transforming into a blur as I depart the city and head towards the clearing I’ve been using as my personal training grounds.
Arriving at the clearing roughly thirty minutes later, I wipe away my sweat with a towel, dousing myself with water and gulping down as much of it as I can. While my physical Attributes make it much more manageable, running has never been particularly easy for me.
I distract myself by pulling up my Status page, looking at the progress I’ve made since returning to Earth. Between the impromptu training with Octavian, the purge of Doc’s criminals, and the private training I’ve continued to pursue on my own, I’ve managed to gain: 10 Lvls in Mana Bullet and Sprint, 8 Lvls in Fleet Feet of Air and Active Mental Search, 6 Lvls in Mediocre Telepathic Mind, Mana Blade, and Mana Manipulation, 5 Lvls in Mana Infusion, Elemental Mana, Fireball, Manual Labor, and Passive Mental Search, 4 Lvls in Effortless Presence and Disguise, 3 Lvls in Mental Illusion, Higher Energy – Motion, Pain Resistance, and Indomitable Will, and 2 Lvls in Instant Acceleration and Higher Energy – Sound. All in all, I managed to gain 104 Way Points, giving me a total of 146 Way Points available for investment.
I stare at my Way page for a few minutes, trying to decide on the best path forward. I’ve already invested 400 points within the Latent Talent Way and haven’t received anything but the delayed reward notification. Would more points really make that much of a difference at this point? The 146 points could be used to complete one or even two different Ways, possibly giving me Skills that would make the difference between life and death for the upcoming trial. On the other hand, they could give me completely useless Skills that would be a waste of the Way points at such a critical time. Latent Talent might give me a Class that would allow me to gain the power I need to succeed. The lack of knowledge basically makes every investment a blind guess.
In the end, I decide to invest another 100 points within Latent Talent. While this investment may prove itself worthless, the possibility of having a Class tailored to my personality and goals is too enticing of an idea. If I have to roll the dice either way it’s better to aim high than to aim low.
Your Latent Talent crystallizes, creating a more refined and perfect version of itself. Impurities are removed and the cracks within the construct are fixed. A flare of power creates three different possibilities within your Talent, opening up different paths for you to take. You approach the apex of your possibility. Reward: Delayed.
Interesting. I’d assumed from previous notifications that I’d only be given a single option, a class that had been formed around my actions and ideals. The possibility of being able to choose from three different options is fascinating, if somewhat worrying. If all three classes are designed around me, then which one will be the best fit? What if all of them are equally attractive?
I shake my head, taking myself out of my thoughts and back into the moment. There’s nothing I can do about my future Class right at this moment, and it is pointless to worry about something I have no control over, especially given the looming crisis facing Everwall.
With that in mind, I fall into my training routine and focus solely on different ways to handle different hypothetical combatants.
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The three Ungutarri stared at the notifications in front of them, falling to their knees in worship. Genesis, their great god, had deemed these three worthy of participating in a Primus Trial, using their bodies as its holy weapon.
The three had been training together for the past four years, growing from adolescent boys into nascent warriors intent on proving their prowess in combat. The honor of being chosen by Genesis would catapult them through the Ungutarri society and bring them to the positions that they felt they truly deserved. None of them were worried about falling to the primitive 11th Wavers, for they were the children of the 7th Wave, beloved by Genesis.
The shaman of their tribe bowed to them upon hearing of their holy duty, an honor that had the three Chosen feeling pride beyond comprehension. The holy armory was opened to them and they each walked in to choose their holy weapons. The first, a small but quick warrior, picked up a pair of twin daggers, taken from the body of a now destroyed 10th Wave Civilization. The second, a tall and lanky individual with long reach, picked up a curved spear, a gift from an explorer beyond the stars. The third and final Chosen, a stocky and thick block of muscle, grabbed the spear of forefathers, the same weapon his own father had used to kill accursed mages many decades ago.
The three then entered into the state of trial, receiving the blessings of Genesis so graciously given to them by their shaman. Their prayers were conveyed to the great god and their loved ones were informed of their future success.
Weapons chosen, blessed by Genesis, and loved ones informed, the three sat in ritual silence, awaiting their god with bated breath.
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The morning of the First Trial finally arrives and the weather matches the mood of everyone within Everwall. Fog rolls around the entire city and the clouds above release a light rain, filling the air with a light humidity and obscuring our long range vision. The ground glistens as an occasional beam of light breaks through the clouds and shines off of the small accumulated puddles.
Every guard stands ready on the quickly constructed walls of the city, each spread a few feet apart from each other so that they completely encircle the city. Each holds their weapon of choice and some sort of projectile. Bows are incredibly rare and are only used by those with prior experience, most guards instead relying on throwing spears of wood that have been quickly carved over the past week.
I sit in front of the main gate of the city with the other contestants, relaxing in a Lotus Pose. Even after speaking to both my mother and Julian, two individuals decided that they still wanted to compete.
The first is one of the guards, a gargantuan man of nearly seven feet made of corded muscle, who thinks I’m only out here because my parents are showing favoritism. A quick look at his mind showed me that he’s extremely arrogant, but a gifted combatant. His Strength is most likely higher than mine, albeit not by a significant margin, and he fights with a large hammer that he apparently owned before the change. If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t give the man very good odds of surviving the conflict. He lacks the flexibility that is required to deal with anything that isn’t weaker than him. In fact, he doesn’t even register as a Rank 1 combat threat.
The other combatant is an older woman with a bow, a forester that had wandered into the city just a day before. She respectfully declined my parents request to abdicate from the competition, saying that it was a matter of honor. Her mind was surprisingly well defended, indicating a high Willpower, but it was not enough to keep me from delving into her secrets to determine her real reason. Surprisingly, her words and thoughts completely lined up. After losing her husband to an evolved beast, she had sworn that she would gain power in this world and ensure it didn’t happen to anyone else. I plan to keep an eye on her during the fighting to ensure she doesn’t die. Everwall would gain a strong ally if she were able to be convinced to stay.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Ignoring the contemptuous glares from the giant, I wait patiently. An uncomfortable silence rests upon the city, interrupted by the occasional noise from someone shifting around. The noise of laughing, conversation, and even crying children has been stifled. Everwall has become a subdued version of itself, fully aware that it rests upon a precipice of possible extermination.
The waiting is interrupted an hour later, a notification appearing within the vision of every single person within Everwall.
Citizens of Everwall. The Trial of Defense has now begun. You have been selected to fight against [Three Ungutarri Holy Warriors]. Defeat the invaders and ensure they kill less than 5% of your population in order to succeed. Successful completion of The Trial of Defense will qualify you for advancement.
I get to my feet at the notification, hearing the guards whisper behind me in fear and anticipation. It is one thing to understand that death is coming your way; another to actually be confronted with the realization in the moment. If things go as planned, however, they shouldn’t even need to raise their weapons.
Casting Echolocation, I close my eyes and begin focusing on all of the information flowing back into my field. It takes a few moments, but I’m able to pinpoint the location of three moving targets as they make their way toward the city. They seem to be moving slowly but surely towards our gate, almost as if they know where the true challengers will be.
Eyes still closed, I inform the other two contestants that the challengers are only two minutes away and that they should prepare themselves. The older woman bows in my direction, thanking me for the advice, while the giant tells me to piss off even as he begins to limber up his muscles in anticipation.
Almost exactly two minutes later, three shapes make their way out of the fog and the whispers of fear and terror among the guards begin to build in intensity. The three aliens are all larger than the giant of a human next to me, the smallest one standing at nearly ten feet while the largest is nearly fourteen feet high. Their skin is dark red and rough in texture, appearing as if they have plates of hardened magma over their entire body. Veins of black liquid spread over their faces and entirely black eyes stare out at us. The creatures seem to have two mouths placed side by side, and all six mouths open simultaneously as they let loose a war cry.
A shrill and piercing sound washes over all of us, causing some of the guards to fall to their knees as their eardrums burst. Those that fell to the cry begin to slowly vacate the wall, some even falling off as the loss of their inner ear has removed all sense of balance.
The older woman next to me looks nonplussed, no emotion except for casual boredom appearing on her face. The giant, however, looks extremely angry at the sight of his fellow guards falling off the wall in pain. Bellowing a roar of his own, he begins sprinting forward at the three challengers. The smallest of the three steps forward, bows to the giant, and then also begins sprinting forward, moving at a speed far beyond what the giant can match.
“That fool is going to die.” I hear the older woman next to me say. Nodding my head in agreement, I watch as the two combatants meet.
The giant of a guard starts the fight by swinging his hammer over his head, bringing it down to earth with a massive blow. Unfortunately for him, his opponent is too fast for the attack, quickly dodging to the side and sinking two small daggers into the giant’s side. The sound of shrieking metal fills the battlefield as the blades cut through the standard guard armor as if it was nothing more than paper. The giant lets out a grunt and jumps to the side, sweeping his arm around as moving to try and force the opposing warrior to also retreat. Instead, the Ungutarri bends his body to avoid the sweeping arm and quickly stabs the giant in both legs, avoiding the reactionary attack. With his body off balance from getting stabbed, the giant is not able to jump away and I watch as the daggers dive down towards his chest, piercing through the armor and going deep enough to reach his heart. All in all, the entire altercation is over in less than twenty seconds.
Pulling the blades out of the now quiet corpse, the warrior bows to his opponent and then kneels down, picking up a handful of dirt and dropping it over the giant’s body. He then rejoins the other two, retaking his spot as they once again line up. The stocky one in the center looks down at the body of the giant and then up at me and the older woman, yelling at us, “Our God promised us battle and conflict, not weaklings who die too quickly. Which champion is next?”
I turn to the older woman to find her face scrunched up in concentration, obviously weighing the benefits of going next versus possibly obtaining more information by watching another bout of combat. Shaking my head, I step forward and smile at her raised eyebrow.
I then turn to the three Ungutarri and yell, “I am next.”
The three trade looks at each other, most likely incredulous as I am thin and lanky, but the tallest one steps forward, drawing a long spear with a curved tip. The lacerations caused by the blade would most likely cause extreme internal damage during entry and exit, so I need to make sure that he doesn’t get anywhere near me. I also activate Combat Ranking, feeling my observations of my opponent crystalizing in my mind as the System aided Skill classifies him as a Rank 1 threat.
Falling into Effortless Presence, I begin walking forward, knowing that this is my debut. Any fear that the people of Everwall feel for the randomly selected needs to be erased by the fear and respect they have for me as an individual. The only way to do that is to beat all three combatants by myself.
The tall warrior bows to me and I return the gesture, watching as he steps forward from the other two and begins to cautiously walk toward me. In painful anticipation, I wait until he’s only one hundred feet away before I attack.
Instantly conjuring four Mana Bullets and casting Fleet Feet of Air, I position the Bullets both above and below my wrists, making them appear as if they are nothing more than a piece of my armor. Despite his earlier caution, the two mouths of the tall Ungutarri break out into an animalistic grin and he rushes forward at me, his entire demeanor changing within a split second. Gone is the caution and wary respect, replaced with an all-encompassing desire for conflict.
Not sparing a second thought for his change in attitude, I wait until he is ten feet away and then cast Earthen Barrier, raising up a stone wall of three inches in a circle around me. He’s too focused on me to see the barrier raise and his feet hit it while moving at speed, causing him to trip into the air. In a dazzling display of coordination, he spins quickly in the air and lands heavily on his feet, catching himself from falling to the ground.
I, however, waste no time, and two Mana Bullets are already right upon him. I’d assumed he’d have high enough Dexterity to catch himself from falling to the ground, but the somewhat tenuous laws of Genesis physics still apply, meaning he’d have to stop himself by either rolling away or stopping himself. My other two Bullets fly harmlessly in the direction of his possible roll, but the two shot at his landing position hit him squarely in the chest.
The Bullets rip through his light armor and the secondary explosion causes him to stumble, his free hand dropping to the ground to support himself. Before he has the chance to move away and asses the damage, my Freezing Beam hits him right on the feet. The ice multiplies quickly, spreading upon contact until it covers his entire lower body.
Before the ice can fully claim him, he uses his hands and begins to chip away at the ice with impressive speed, using the butt of his spear as a makeshift pick. Not wanting to waste my temporary advantage, I sprint towards him so that he falls within my Field of Mana and conjure three different Mana Blades, a single thought of will causing them to impale the warrior.
The Ungutarri coughs some sort of blue liquid, most likely their form of blood, and stops chipping away at the ice. His hands blur and his spear flies out towards me now that I’m within his range. I’m saved by the time dilation of Effortless Presence, allowing me to quickly activate Mana Infusion to give me the speed to dodge the attack by leaning to the side. Instead of allowing him to pull his weapon back, I grab onto the shaft of the spear with my hand and use the Strength of Mana Infusion to keep my grip firm, not letting go.
Within another few moments, the weakness of his dying body begins to set in, and I stop using Mana Infusion and pull the spear away from his body with little effort and no Skill. Impaled with three Mana Blades and with two large blasts from Mana Bullets, the Ungutarri stares at me with barely disguised rage in his eyes. Any respect he had for me as a warrior is gone, replaced with disgust and rage.
Are these warriors from a culture of sore losers or did I commit some sort of ‘faux pas’? It doesn’t really matter, but I find myself interested in what changed this calculating warrior from someone filled with respect and caution to someone consumed by the desire to kill me.
I won’t take any chances however. Casting another Mana Blade, I grab the hilt and stab it into his eye, ending his life in an instant.
The sounds of the battlefield fade away and are then replaced with raucous cheering from the guards. I turn around to find them clapping their hands and yelling at my victory. I raise my hand and give them a quick smile before turning back to the opponents in front of me.
Both of their faces are now filled with anger, their multiple sets of mouths hissing at me and barely restraining themselves.
The stocky one, half spitting and half growling, yells in my direction. “Accursed mage, you dare defile our brother with your heathen ways? You dishonor our GOD! Those without honor deserve no honor!”
As he finishes, he draws his weapon and, as the last word makes it out of his dual mouths, begins running towards me. Instead of facing me one on one, the shorter one takes out his daggers and also begins running towards me, all thoughts of challenging each other honorably completely disregarded.
I feel fear and excitement as they run towards me, my mind instantly classifying them both as Rank 1 combat threats. There is a decent chance I could die during this fight, but I feel … excitement. I haven’t had a true life or death test of my abilities since returning to Earth, and I’m somewhat surprised to discover that I was missing it.
Holding out my hands, I conjure two Fireballs and send them flying.