“Name?” “Selene, or you can call me Nitya.”

“Gender?”

“Female.”

Selene quickly filled out the paperwork. Then, with a familiar female clerical officer, she went to the bathroom on the second floor of the police station to clean herself up, changing into a black female guard’s uniform—of course, without any rank insignia.

Louise, who was settled in on the first floor, glanced at Selene as she came down the stairs. She suddenly said,

“Have you chosen your second-tier profession?”

“Huh? Oh…” Selene reacted a moment later, then touched her still-damp hair. She casually pulled out a hair tie and tied her hair into a ponytail. She sat down next to her friend. “Not yet, but I’m thinking of choosing a more versatile class with some close-combat abilities… I can’t change to a Bladesinger, but I can consider ‘Mystic,’ ‘Master Spellcaster,’ ‘Keeper’…”

In the Divine Construct, advancing to a higher tier doesn’t cause any madness or loss of control. Even at a high tier, there’s no such thing as “xx awakened in my body.” Theoretically, there are no restrictions. But humans, or perhaps all mortals, including elves, dwarves, beastmen, and a few other races, are very fragile. Their bodies can’t handle extreme changes, and their minds can’t adapt to the drastic changes in their bodies.

This doesn’t mean mages can’t change to close-combat professions. It just means it takes a gradual, sequential process. For example, going from a first-tier to a second-tier, changing from “Ritual Magician” to “Keeper.” From a second-tier to a third-tier, changing from “Keeper” to “Bladesinger.” From third-tier to fourth-tier, changing from “Bladesinger” to “Sword Saint”…

A normal, untrained person who suddenly gains the strength to punch through a wall might end up on an unusual path, an eventful life. But more likely, this lucky person wouldn’t be able to control their strength. They might accidentally crush a teacup, smash a table without realizing it, or break a wall by accident… They might try to hug a loved one and end up breaking their bones. They might even tear their own skin off while washing their face because they were too forceful…

Similarly, a mage who suddenly changes to a berserker would find themselves unable to control their body for a very long time. They’d have to carefully survive, even keeping their mind focused while they sleep to control their movements and avoid harming themselves. Sometimes, in a fight, they might want to cast a fireball, grab their staff, and end up breaking the staff…

It might be better not to level up.

And different races have different adaptability. Elves can almost unconditionally switch between professions. Humans need to go through three tiers before they can completely switch superhuman types. Dwarves and beastmen are even worse. They only have one chance in their lifetime to choose a professional category. If they choose a magical path, they can’t become close-combat professionals. If they choose a close-combat path, they can’t become mages…

Of course, there’s one special exception—becoming a cleric.

Any profession, any race, can become a cleric. It doesn’t require physical or mental adaptation. But similarly, there’s a prerequisite. You must have a divine talent from a certain deity, and this divine talent… is extremely rare.

Theoretically, there are no strict requirements to become a cleric of a Evil god. If you don’t mind dying, you can try.

“I suggest you wait a while,” Louise said seriously to her friend. “There’s no rush. You can’t go back on a superhuman level-up, so make sure of your decision before you level up.”

“I’m sure of my decision. I’m not planning on completely changing to a close-combat profession. I just want to improve my ability to fight, and not get beaten up by a dog.” Selene stroked her hair. “Those professions are all openly available. Their prevalence, hidden dangers, characteristics, and advancement considerations are clearly defined…”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I still suggest you wait a bit,” Louise sighed. “Or you could go to the Divine Glory Church and try your luck, see if the Lord of Glory’s envoys care about you…”

“It’s like daydreaming. What if I’m actually the chosen one of the fourteen gods? Wouldn’t that be nice?” Selene rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m running low on spellcasting materials, I’ll go gather some outside of town. What about you?”

Louise answered without hesitation:

“Give me your key. I’ll stay at your place for a few days.”

Selene handed her the spare key, asking dubiously,

“Aren’t you quite familiar with… uh… some of the guild receptionists? I remember she runs an inn and rents out rooms…”

Louise stared at her with dead eyes, slowly saying,

“I spent all my money on advancement materials.”

“You’re also planning on leveling up? Still an Astromancer?” Selene paused at the door.

“No. I’m going to become a ‘Painter’,” Louise replied. “I’ve gathered all the materials. I can level up in a few days.”

“I’ll watch over you then.”

Selene waved her hand and left.

...

Selene first went home and retrieved her clay chest, then packed it with various-sized glass vials. She looked like a supplier as she carried them out of town, a shovel also in her hand.

Her simple method of gathering materials was rare.

Sweating, she went to another stream outside Schwerdt Town. She used her shovel to scoop up large amounts of clay, filling half the chest. Then, carrying the vials, she chased after one dewdrop after another, collecting them in the most primitive way, filling the vials, then putting them into the chest until it was half-full…

By the time she had completed her monthly supply run—gathering all her materials—it was after midnight.

It was a clean night sky, completely unlike the modern world. Dense stars were scattered across the sky, small groups of stars forming clusters. A silver river hung above the beings of this world, vast and magnificent.

Selene looked up at the night sky, just as she had done before in the underground space, searching for the moon, but just as before, found nothing.

She sighed and gripped the edge of the chest, planning to return home. Then she suddenly felt a damp night wind blowing past her. Followed by the sound of rain. Silvery lines of water fell onto the leaves, splashing droplets that wetted Selene’s shoulders.

“…?”

In a daze, a continuous sheet of rain began to fall, engulfing the buildings and mountains in the distance.

In a moment, all she could see was the rain.

Selene loved rain, both in her previous life and this one. She loved wrapping herself in blankets and hiding in bed, listening to the pitter-patter of rain outside and the faint chirping of insects, smelling the mixture of water and earth, the cool air from outside permeating the room, bringing a sense of warmth and peace that replaced the fatigue of a long day.

She liked the cold wind before the rain, and the quiet after the rain.

—The prerequisite was that she was indoors.

But what if she was outside, with no shelter?

Selene calmly moved under a branch. The cold sensation of the rain on her hair and clothes was unpleasant. The wet clothes, sticking to her skin, were hard for her to bear. She wanted to raise the chest to protect herself from the rain.

She failed the strength test.

So she politely cursed the heavens.

The rain in Schwerdt Town always came suddenly, and it would leave just as quickly, so Selene sat on the chest and waited patiently for it to end. But the moisture in the sky seemed endless. The heavy rain kept falling. The dense rain never lessened, even after she had waited until she was very annoyed.

She took a deep breath, preparing to charge into the rain and run home.

Just as she was about to stand up, a flickering light appeared in the distance.

Selene looked over and saw a young man in a black robe, a mage, emerging from the rain. He was still wearing the same familiar mage’s robe she had seen last night. His black scarf was still wrapped around his neck. His damp hair was clinging to his face.

His right hand held a complex umbrella. His left hand held an old-looking lantern. This gave him a warm, dim aura. He looked at Selene.

Their eyes met for a moment, then moved away.

He moved his eyes carefully, his gaze fixed on Selene’s face and hair. After a moment of silence, he spoke, but clearly couldn’t control his emotions. His tone was slightly distorted.

It was like running into a former colleague after graduating from the company. You want to greet them like you did back in school, your nickname on the tip of your tongue. But then you realize that they don’t recognize you, so your words, filled with memories and emotions, come rushing out, hastily revised, and transformed into a polite greeting.

“Miss… uh…”

“Name? Gender? Occupation?” Selene interrupted, asking like a real police officer, then couldn’t help but laugh. “What kind of voice is that? It sounds like a drake…”

Richter’s complex emotions were washed away by the rain, like dust. He twitched his lips, then smiled. His black eyes moved past the umbrella, settling on the girl with her ponytail, arms crossed, smiling, a hand over her stomach.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Richter.” He said.