CHAPTER EIGHTY

  Richard stretched. Shook out his arms. The dreaded pins and needles sensation preferable to his near comatose state of only moments before. Around him, the others were beginning to come round in similar states of pained relief. Denise rubbed at her chest where she and the parasol had collided. While, not that far off, a number of shifting shadows began to creep their way forward. The details of their silhouettes barely visible in the light of the rising dawn.

  Richards breaths misted as he watched the approaching figures for any signs of hostility—his fingers retrieving a Mark 1 talisman from storage, just in case. Suddenly, one of them, a smaller one, broke away from the pack. Richard tensed, readied himself to throw, when a familiar, high pitched voice rang out across the barren ravine.

  “Little bro!”

  Richard relaxed, put away his talisman, and promptly resigned himself to the inevitable. Soon enough, the other toddler sized figures had rushed forward to join her. All equally excitable. Richard briefly glanced at the blinking notification half obscuring his vision, and sighed.

  Please Choose A Class from the Following Selection:

  Then? Well, then he was summarily dogpiled by a carpet of wriggling four year olds. All jutting foreheads and ramming elbows. After the kind of day he’d had, their careless ministrations hurt like no other. And yet? It was the good kind of pain. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself. And, wouldn’t you know it? He very nearly believed himself at that.

  “Hey! Watch it!” he exclaimed after an especially egregious attempt upon the precious family jewels.

  To which a chorus of giggles was their only response. Richard growled.

  “Little mongrels…”

  Not to be out done, Richard suddenly broke with the long held tradition of passivity, and, for the first time ever, went on the attack. An unrelenting flurry of tickles turned their titters into shrieks in very short order. And so it was that, for the umpteenth time that day, all out war was waged.

  +++

  Sunshine peaked through the leafy green canopy. Dappled rays casting their bedraggled looking party in a less than flattering light. As of last night, and at his behest, the others had cued up their class selections, and were now in the midst of finalizing their choices. Each sporting that unfocused look one tends to get when perusing their system screens. His aura, meanwhile, ensured none of the F Grade beasts in the area dared take advantage of their inattentiveness.

  Without really thinking about it, Richard tore away the wrapper of his Nougat Swirl Kalax Energy Bar and raised it to his lips.

  Alarm blared in his mind, nearly making him choke. Reflexively, Richard snatched his hand back, just as a kinky haired torpedo shot through the space where it’d just been. Richard snapped his head around. Locked eyes with his assailant. His face immediately drained of color. Penelope, for her part, casually wiped a bit of drool from the corners of her lips. A predatory glint flashed in those amber eyes. Her gaze flicked from him to the energy bar and back again. Richard, for his part, never took his eyes off her. He began to retreat ever so slowly.

  “Woah! Easy now,” Richard produced a number of talismans from storage. “Let’s not be hasty. We wouldn’t want to do anything we might soon regret, now would we?”

  He patted the air placatingly. Penelope’s eyes, meanwhile, bobbed up and down—tracking the sweet treat in his hand unerringly. Again, his sense for imminent danger blared.

  “Oh, for the love of-!”

  The girl pounced. Talismans flashed. And, before any of the rest of their party even knew what was happening, the two remarkable rugrats were racing through the skies. One on a dwindling supply of stepping talismans, the other borne by ambient mana and an imperial will.

  +++

  “Oh, quit your sulking,” Richard said, plopping himself down on a clear spot of grass with a huff.

  Penelope pouted.

  “Need I remind you that it wasn’t even yours to begin with?”

  Penelope crossed her arms, and pouted all the harder.

  “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  “Hmph!”

  She swiveled her head away from him. Shunning him as only a girl her age knew how.

  “Twist your neck any further and you’ll break something,” Richard mumbled, wiping chocolate from the corners of his mouth.

  Leftovers from when he’d forced down the entire candy bar—about the size of his forearm, if he was being generous—like a former hotdog eating champ eager to earn back the title. The chase had ended rather abruptly after that, and she’d still yet to forgive him. Richard rolled his eyes, plopped an entire cakes worth of chocolate slices down in front of her, then returned her upwelling of gratitude with all the grace and aplomb expected of a man of his station.

  That was to say, he openly gloated like the filthy commoner he was.

  Haha! Who said I wasn’t great with kids? Granted, with my burgeoning intellect it isn’t exactly a fair contest. Maintaining an iron leash is, quite literally, a piece of cake. They’re like wild animals. It takes a firm hand to maintain discipline. The trick is, you can’t be afraid to lay down the law. To tell them “No!” once in a while. Really show them who’s boss-!

  Penelope finished inhaling the very last slice of cake. Searched around, beside, and even under the plate with obvious confusion. Before she finally turned a glare his way, so steeped in paranoid suspicion, that he could actually see the conspiracies brewing behind those bright amber eyes. Richard felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

  He promptly purchased twice the amount of slices he had previously, then let out a sigh of relief when her suspicion was replaced by glee.

  Discipline. It’s all about discipline.

  Richard wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, before he turned his attentions inward. Towards his master formation, and, more specifically, his soul seal. He’d already begun its degradation during his mad dash through the skies. In the end all it took to undo weeks worth of effort was a slight nudge.

  The soul seal collapsed, all that un-aspected mana greedily sucked up by his heretical variant. In another world, in another life, he might’ve simply carved a neat channel through the seal, leaving the majority of it intact. Unfortunately, his black mana was more prone to take than create, which made fine adjustments like that all but impossible.

  A headache for another day, he decided, just as a torrent of soul energy flooded into his master formation.

  Richard had known going in that the effects of soul energy would be rather muted when imbibed in this manner. Directionless, in many respects it served as overpriced commodity and little else. Like a bottle of sparkling water for the soul. Oh, it left one feeling slightly refreshed, sure, but was that instance of relief worth the often exorbitant price? For many, the answer was an unequivocal no.

  Only now did he realize this was likely because, without a predominant will to guide it, or a clashing of wills, like you might find in a life or death struggle, soul energy was largely aimless.

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  The most one could expect from guzzling it down in the manner he had, a remarkably clear mind. The energy doing little more than rinse through the soul—gathering up bits of surface level detritus as it went—and leaving tranquility behind as it exited the body. It was why soul tinctures had been coveted so highly by berserkers, demonic worshipers and the like—those most prone to outbursts of uncontrolled rage or bloodlust.

  No, it’s use as a mood stabilizer was not why he’d set it aside all this time. Like with anything, pump enough of it inside a space too small to properly contain it and, eventually, something is sure to come loose. And then, there was his master formation, with all manner of clogs and impediments hampering his potential.

  All Richard had needed was an energy able to affect the master formation directly, and a catalyst strong enough to knock a few stubborn blockages loose therein. His recent soul grade evolution should serve as the latter—the topography of his soul having taken on entirely new dimensions—and as for the former?

  Through his minds eye he got to watch in real time, as a bona fide natural disaster flick went on inside the confines of his master formation. Soul energy, like white water rapids, roared through the delicate channels of the formation. Each like a series of interconnected slot canyons. A map of veins which the sudden influx congested in no time flat. Only then did they begin to run into signs of organized resistance.

  Obstructions and blockades, they were all largely useless.

  Ill equipped to handle the mile high waves and raging floodwaters which converged. Twig forts and wooden palisades stood no chance. Swept away in all the chaos, as more and more of the impediments hindering his leveling talent were scraped away. Seconds passed like this, with Richard’s input barely required. Sure, he’d nudge a current here and there, but, largely, the sheer quantity of soul energy flooding into the formation was doing much of the work for him.

  Until, quite suddenly, it wasn’t.

  The torrents of soul energy—having ran roughshod over everything in their path—brought to a thunderous halt by a series of fortifications unlike any they’d come across before. Imposing stone ramparts which withstood the sudden crash of impact with ease. Each tall enough that the soldiers kneeling behind the stone parapets didn’t receive so much as a misty spray.

  This was all figurative of course. There were no tiny men patrolling the dark spots of his master formation. Merely a series of impediments he couldn’t immediately blast through. The end of his breakthrough, essentially. Not that he minded. After all, he’d already gotten what he came for.

  Drum roll please.

  Richard zoomed out to better survey his Master Formation. Where it’d resembled a top down view of a metropolis during a citywide blackout before, now it was as if a number of concerned citizens had rallied near the center. A twinkling splotch of illumination livening up the murk. And while, sure, ninety-nine percent of the map was still draped in darkness, the one percent he did have was a start.

  If I’m not mistaken, that right there is a bona fide F Grade Master Formation! In the flesh! Or, well, flesh in the figurative sense. If it’d actually been branded on my chest, it would’ve made this entire process a whole lot easier.

  Now, any experience gain he received would be at least ten times as efficient as it had previously.

  And just in time too.

  Please Choose A Class from the Following Selection:

  Richard turned his gaze to the first selection.

  Class: [Crafter (Common)]

  Less accustomed to the grisly act of killing, your hands naturally gravitate towards the more creative pursuits.

  This is a class that revolves around the creation of items, weapons, consumables, and other forms of equipment.

  This was, of course, to be expected. It was one of five basic class archetypes a person was presented with upon first selecting a class. And of the five: Warrior, Mage, Ranger, Healer, and Crafter, it was the one he thought he had the most affinity with.

  That said, he saw that warrior, mage, and healer had also made the cut, which honestly surprised him. Though he supposed his deeds did somewhat merit their appearance. He decided he’d skip those and move onto the uncommon selections.

  Class: [Scribe (Uncommon)]

  Having sworn off those acts of barbarity which plague the greater multiverse, you hold to the maxim that the pen is mightier than the sword.

  This is a class that revolves around the careful drafting of documents, copying of texts, and other such laudable feats of penmanship.

  It was almost nostalgic, going down the series of milestones he’d lived through in his first timeline. Less so when he remembered just how brutal it’d been, a scribe with little to no offensive options, trapped inside the second deadliest tutorial known to man.

  As he perused his options, Richard idly noted how other uncommon classes, such as rogue, cleric, and a whole host of mage type variants, also showed up. He suspected this wide spectrum of choices would narrow rather sharply as he went. It was only natural. If Common Classes were the most basic archetypes, Uncommon represented a slightly more specialized variant.

  And that specialization would only grow more pronounced the higher in rank you went, making it a lot harder to meet the deed requirements unintentionally.

  After a quick once over to see if there was anything he missed, Richard moved on.

  Class: [Talismanic Artificer (Rare)]

  In a conscious blend of barbarism and craftsmanship, you brandish your pen to violent ends—proving once and for all that the pen can indeed be mightier than the sword.

  This is a class that revolves around the careful drafting of talismans, skill scrolls, and all manner of paper constructs.

  And there it was. The last touchstone between himself and his past life. He’d been in D Grade when he received this rare class, and, instead of following it through to its final conclusion, a miraculous coin shaped discovery caused him to flip his entire progression path on its head. Selecting an obscure knowledge based class for his C Grade evolution, and stalling out ever since.

  It was what he’d hoped to gain ever since this entire ordeal had first started. A head start unlike anything he’d managed before. A privilege even many heavens blessed, world renowned high rankers couldn’t claim to match. The end of the line, effectively.

  So why? Why was it that his class selection was only halfway finished?

  Class: [Triadic Prodigy (Epic)]

  You find yourself capable of the manipulation of all three primary energy types individually and in conjunction, a feat for which many a promising scion has fallen woefully short.

  This is a class that revolves around the manipulation of all three primary energy types: mana, life, and soul.

  Richard blinked. He hadn’t even heard of a class like this, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. What did surprise him was that this wasn’t all.

  Class: [Talismanic Chimera (Epic)]

  What happens when craftsmanship proves so second nature, that the depths of your bestial nature is allowed to bleed through?

  This is a class that revolves around the ever adaptable nature of man when coupled with the bestial nature of the animal kingdom, all facilitated through the use of immaculately conceived talismans.

  Richard grinned. Now that sounded like a uniquely combat oriented class, which was a wonder considering the progression path. He was tempted. Sorely tempted. But, in the end, he couldn’t rid his mind of the belief that much of what it promised could be accomplished all on his own with enough planning, practice, and elbow grease.

  Richard moved on.

  Class: [Imperial Aid (Epic)]

  You were born to serve, to teach and to inspire, and who better to receive your wisdom than a child of the imperial line.

  This is a class that revolves around the studious and diligent service of one’s betters, and the great honor that comes with pleasuring those honored members of the imperial line.

  Nope! Nope! A thousand times nope!

  Although… it was epic, was it not? That meant it couldn’t be completely useless. Right?

  He couldn’t help but wonder what the benefits of such a class might possibly be. Then he reread that “pleasuring” line once more, and recoiled. It sounded like he’d get brownie points, maybe even experience, for acting the puffed up little errand boy. He shot a sidelong glance at Penelope, currently staring at a series of empty plates like they’d given personal offense.

  Tempting, but I think I’ll pass.

  There were a few more classes in that same vein of course. All of them infuriatingly high in rarity. All of them promptly passed over by an increasingly irritated Richard.

  Imperial Tutor? No thanks. Imperial Doorkeeper? Not likely. Imperial Custodian? You can’t be serious. Imperial Chimney Sweep? In what world is this an epic rarity class? Has the world gone mad!? Hmm… Ahah! … or not…? Imperial Chambermaid. Very funny system. You’re a regular comedian.

  Richard grumbled.

  Ah! Finally! Now what do we have…

  Class: [Talismanic Triad of the World Shaper (Ancient)]

  Blessed by World Shaper’s divine tutelage, naturally gifted in the control of all three energetic primaries, and with a studied fixation on all things talismanic, before you glimmers the beginnings of a path heretofore unexplored. It remains to be seen, however, whether that’s for good, or for ill.

  This is a class that revolves primarily around the creation and dispensation of unique consumables, with a special focus on talisman-craft.

  Richard didn’t even hesitate.

  It’s either this or Imperial Nursemaid.

  Richard promptly selected Talismanic Triad of the World Shaper as his class, and a world of possibilities abruptly opened up to him.