As a child, I always questioned the idea of an invisible man in the sky who dictated the universe. Raised by a religious family, my curiosity was often met by answers of lacklustre substance. One morning would forever be etched into memory, the day I secretly stopped believing. Betrayed after hours of praying the night before, I woke to not finding a new copy of the game I wanted beneath my pillow.
It wasn’t really about the game, though it would have scored eternal worship, what I truly wanted was a sign. Was it too much to ask? The desire for confirmation before pledging my life to worship a greater being? While I had genuinely tried to believe, doubt inevitably reigned victorious.
Francis, who formed the basis of my understanding of what a god was like, must have been really pulling his punches. Otherworldly, yet not imposing dissonance, he had a strangely approachable and inviting aura. Those expectations were shattered as soon as the second deity visited my mental bastion.
Clouds parted in the skies, pushed to the far reaches of the horizon, the rainfall dissipating with it. From the sunset, riding the amber skies, a gilded chariot streaked. Rather than horses, winged beasts with the heads of eagles chauffeured the goddess. Reaching our island in the span of seconds, the masked woman descends on her own wings of grey.
Her cloak twinkled in the breeze, portraying a sea of stars within. The engraved face of silver, distinguishing itself like the moon’s reflection on a midnight lake, hid away all but her golden gaze. Tresses of deep navy flowed from her crown like silken strips, topped by dual obsidian horns curving smoothly. Coiled by her side, forged from a divine metal of turquoise hues, the whip radiated with the unmistakable sheen of adamantine.
She wielded an intensity that made hairs stand on end, a single look preventing any form of retreat. As if the world was afraid of insulting her, a deafening silence smothered the atmosphere. Hovering by the cliffside, the goddess pierced me with eyes of scrutiny.
“How I lament, the facade comes undone.”
The echoed voice came from all directions, enforcing a sense of gravity to lock one in place.
“To think that the grand Rival was nought but a hollowed shell.”
Flicking through memories I drew blank after blank, the identity of the deity eluding me. Francis calmly strode to my side, the pressure easing from his presence.
“Hmmmmmm, you don’t want this child anymore? Shall I inform the next in line?”
Scratch that, the pressure just tripled.
“Do not joke, Francis, the others will not claim what I have already paid for.”
“Unfortunately, that choice does not rest with you,” he chuckles while turning in my direction.
Don’t draw aggro and then shirk it onto me!
Mortified from being thrown under the bus, I was left with no option but to engage with the intimidating immortal. In situations like these, where a slight misstep could be costly, sometimes the best option is to just avoid the fight entirely.
“T-thank you for sponsoring me,” was all I managed to get out before dropping into an awkward bow.
To my knowledge, they were the reason that I had this opportunity—scary goddess or not—and I should appreciate that. Besides, did I really want to spit on that goodwill and make this force my enemy?
Sincerity, please save me.
Counting the birthdays as she bore a hole into the back of my head, not daring to look up, I awaited her response.
“You may prove your gratitude by accepting my offer.”
The [Goddess of Retribution] seeks an incarnation.
Favoured by the heavens, divine champions are tested through ordeals in an effort to forge new legacies for their patron god.
The [Goddess of Retribution] offers her divine blessing.
The [Goddess of Retribution] offers one (Mythic) skill.
You may become the incarnation of only one deity.
[Accept] [Refuse]
The transparent box manifested from nothing, floating just above the ground, glancing up to the goddess resulting in the info panel following. Her stern look hounded me in my hesitation, the sense of wonder vanished as quickly as it had come, and the realisation of how serious the situation truly was became apparent. Divine retribution was one thing, the holy fury of the [Goddess of Retribution] though?
Not a person I should piss off, and they have their eyes set on me, lovely.
“I-I’m going to accept, I will, I just-”
“You will accept.”
“Y-yes, I will, I just would like to know why is all… why did you choose me for this?”
Not recalling a relevant event that I’d completed involving the goddess, and I had finished most of the available content in the trial, I was left puzzled by her insistence. Allowing the question to hang as she crossed her arms, the deity pondered briefly before deciding to enlighten me.
“Your aptitude, along with your potential. My domain is all-encompassing, requiring a champion that excels in all situations. Make no mistake, I have not chosen you without reason.”
Francis nods in agreement, adding his own two cents.
“Though rare, there were still many players who mastered each class. The rarity that you brought however was in your overall completion, reaching the ears of patrons far and wide thanks to your deeds. A devoted jack-of-all-trades should not be underestimated in value, your case being more akin to an ace-of-all-trades.”
Stifling laughter he continues,
“You should have seen her at the auction, those poor minor gods-”
“Francis.”
“Yes yes, *ahem* essentially you were quite popular—even with your restrictions, that dedication impressed more gods than it turned away.”
But all I did was no-life the game like a zombie…
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Baffled and a little worried about the high expectations placed on me, I figured the best option would be to just go with the flow. Pushing aside my fears regarding the lack of terms and conditions, not like I would have read them anyway, I tapped accept on the window.
I expected fanfare or flashing lights, however the box disappeared without a showy sendoff. It could be me deluding myself, not like I could see either deity’s expressions behind their permanent poker faces, but the goddess did feel only half as scary as before.
Reaching into her cloak, the hand not going beneath the fabric but instead sinking into the void of stars, she plucked a constellation with precision before presenting it in front of me. Without waiting for confirmation, the captured luminaries whisked from her palm. After orbiting my head for a few cycles, the stars decided on their landing zone. Forming a trail, they shot out and injected themselves into the underside of my left forearm.
You have obtained [Aspect of Nemesis] (Mythic)
“Almost done,” she claimed, pulling another constellation from her shoulder.
The stars burned bright and merged, producing a slender dagger that shimmered with pearlescence. Instead of giving me the celestial stiletto, or poking me with it, I watched as the goddess used it to slice into one of her thumbs. From the wound trickled a thin prismatic ichor, not allowing it to be wasted, she reached forward to paint two intersected strokes.
From my hairline to the bridge of my nose, and along my forehead lining up with the centres of my eyes, a burning cross seared into the skin—I’m not crying, you’re crying.
You have obtained [Divine Blessing of Nemesis] (Mythic)
Thankfully, the agony did not last. Tracing the phantom pain with my fingers, I was unable to detect any tangible damage.
Please tell me there won’t be a shiny plus sign on my head from now on. Francis, stop laughing, this is serious.
Finally having a name to put to the… mask, the pieces began to click. Although I hadn’t encountered Nemesis before myself, I had heard the name mentioned from other players. Most notably, Mr. Mountain had met a wall in the most recent expansion. He hadn’t said much, not that he was much of a talker anyway, it honestly sounded like an excuse to get more sparring out of me in the arena.
Occasionally people would come across dungeons related to gods, more often than not, these spaces were forced solo instances. The beastman had described a battle against themselves, a perfect doppelganger piloted by the dungeon's deity, aptly named the ‘Trial of Nemesis’.
For a rather simple dungeon, the clear rate was shockingly low. Hidden away in a corner of the endgame zones, the trial seemed more like a bonus challenge from the developers.
“Dude, you don’t understand, I swear the AI fucking cheats.”
Though envious of his plight, I did help him train for it, weeks of [Monk] mirror matches were forever etched into memory.
“How boorish, I would never resort to cheating,” scoffed the goddess.
Huh, oh right… mind readers.
“Not every god can do this you know,” chimed Francis, “however, incarnations naturally share thoughts with their patron.”
Bouncing back into my 90-degree bow, I prepared my new boss for the unfortunate future.
“My deepest apologies in advance for any brainrot that you may be subjected to.”
***
Nemesis didn’t overstay her welcome, citing ‘business matters’ before zipping off into the skyline with her gryphons, it didn’t take long before the dark clouds crept back into view. Twirling his staff like an office worker playing with a pen, Francis brought us back to our current agenda.
“Alright, before we construct your avatar, I have an offering for you.”
Clicking his fingers, two presents popped into existence. Suspended in the air above his shoulders, Francis elaborated while pointing to the first.
“This box contains the seeds of three random skill trees, slightly weighted in favour of your patron, and they will serve as a foundation for your avatar.”
Tapping the second parcel with his staff, he continued explaining.
“This box on the other hand only contains one skill tree, the incentive being that you get to choose from any classes your previous character had, also forming the bedrock for your avatar.”
Right off the bat, the second choice appealed to me. Three entire skill lines were great and all, but I could roll poorly and have them be useless—or even just okay trees with horrid synergy.
None of that, thanks.
Gambling can be fun in the right situations, but this did not seem like one of them. When it comes to decisions that will affect the entire playthrough, I would much rather have something that I know will be useful.
“For transparency's sake, the beta will be somewhat different from the old system. Instead of multiple classes, and swapping between them, you will have a tailored singular class alongside multiple noncombat subclasses.”
“That only makes me want the second one more, wait, what happens if you get triple noncombat trees from the first box?”
“You would be ‘classless’ until you obtained any combat-related ability.”
“Yeah nah, that sounds terrible, I’ll go with number two.”
You have obtained [Vestige of Rival Encounter] (Unique)
Opening on its own, the parcel disintegrated, leaving behind a blank card. Upon grabbing the card, another window containing a vast array of abilities was presented.
Select one of the following:
[Sword Mastery] (Common)
[Spear Mastery] (Common)
[Axe Mastery] (Common)
[Dagger Mastery] (Common)
[Unarmed Mastery] (Uncommon)
[Archery] (Common)
[Marksmanship] (Uncommon)
[Pyromancy] (Rare)
[Electromancy] (Rare)
[Cyromancy] (Rare)
(cont.) …
Scrolling through the list, nothing particularly caught my fancy. I was looking for something versatile, preferably with ample amounts of skills. Two-thirds of the way through, I find an unexpected entry among the others.
“Francis, for this one here, are the same quest restrictions still in place?”
The ability that I was referring to was called [Wild Magic], a primitive force that monsters used in place of traditional magic. Around halfway into Rogue Tale’s life cycle, Wild Mages were added. It was a gimmick class that required you to hunt down specific types of monsters to learn their spells through repeated battles, as opposed to gaining spells by hitting specific level checkpoints.
Wild Magicians also boasted the highest amount of skills for any class by a landslide; the bulk of those being worse versions of other spells, or having limiting factors like massive cooldowns. The main issue the role posed, was being incredibly difficult to balance as their strength was not tied to a combat level.
If they had the right spells, Wild Mages could clear party instances solo. If they were missing crucial spells, the whole team was going to wipe. As it was obscure optional content, and required you to hit Lv70 on another class for the NPC to even teach it, the average player had limited experience with the job. Considering their potential with a full spellbook, a penalty was imposed that alienated would-be enthusiasts.
Main quests, as well as group content with other classes, were unable to be accessed or completed with [Wild Mage]. The developers had decided it was the healthiest option, while it did band together eccentrics—24 player all-wild raids were amazing and busted—overall the restrictions and investment discouraged the majority.
Francis did not answer immediately, staring off into space while muttering under his breath, only after half a minute did he break the trance.
“Pardon the delay, I was confirming with the higher-ups. Due to the fundamental class and skill tree changes, it appears that [Wild Magic] is not bound to the previous chains.”
I can just use this as part of my main class? For all content?
Gobsmacked, I may have gotten whiplash from how quickly I locked in my selection. The blank card tore itself into pieces, those fragments dispersing into an ethereal haze before coating my body.
You have obtained [Wild Magic] (Unique)
Conditions met for Avatar construction.
Generating Avatar based on (4) applicable skills and attributes.
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