We advanced up the street cautiously, Tucker staying between Balt and me. Before we had made it halfway to the fountain, a loud hissing sounded out from one of the dilapidated buildings ahead. I scanned the area where the sound came from to see a half-rotted home door fly open, its wood splintering as a half-snake, half-humanoid creature burst through.

  Similar sounds of wood splintering and hissing were happening all around us. The sound of the scrape of scales against stone filled my ears. “Tucker,” I said, keeping my voice low but firm, “stay calm. Let Balt and me handle the dirty work for now.” The pup's ears were laid back with fear, but he nodded and positioned himself right behind me.

  The creatures closed in, and I got a good look at the enemy. Their torsos rose from serpentine coils, human-like from the waist up but stretched and unnatural, shoulders too narrow, arms corded with sinew and faces that carried both hunger and malice. Their eyes gleamed like polished obsidian, unblinking, and their mouths split wider than any human’s, fangs glistening with venom.

  They hissed in unison, a chorus that rattled the air. One reared higher than the rest, its hood flaring like a cobra’s. Balt shifted his stance beside me, staff ready, and I tightened my grip on my blade.

  I used Identify on the creature that had his hood flared.

  I scanned the growing horde and saw that most of them hovered around the same level. “I need to thin their numbers out before they all swarm. Balt, shield this spot, I'll be in and out.” I Flash Stepped, cutting down the nearest naga in a single strike, then flashed back to Balt and Tucker’s side. "They're scales are not that tough, your Force magic should work well against them."

  I looked out from Balts translucent shield as the swarm descend on us. I activated Limit Break and triggered my Regalia, bracing myself for the grim work ahead. My plan was simple: Balt would serve as the anchor point, holding the barrier line, while I darted in and out to wreak havoc in their ranks.

  I stepped back into the fray. Ember sang as I carved through the strange creatures, each swing drawing more aggro away from Balt and Tucker. Each time before I was almost completely overwhelmed, I would Flash back inside the barrier, reposition, and recover before striking out again. Balt’s shields held firm, his stance unyielding, giving me safe harbor to retreat to and a bulwark that kept Tucker safe.

  The rhythm of battle took hold of me for a while and it was brutal and steady, I was in the zone, only focused on my next kill, my next move, until Tucker’s cry split the air drawing me out of my battle vision.

  Tucker was howling in pain, raw and sharp. My heart lurched. Fear clawed at me, certain one of the nagas had somehow slipped past Balt’s defense. I Flashed back in, blade ready.

  But instead of a naga, I saw Tucker enveloped in a surge of system energy, his body glowing with radiant light. A strained voice entered my mind. “The System is saying I am now Level 1 and must choose a class.”

  I whirled around, searching for any possible retreat, but all I saw were more naga bodies closing back in. I threw Balt a mana potion and he downed it, “Balt, I’m going to draw as many as I can away. Help Tucker pick his class.”

  Before Balt could respond, I went back out, cutting down three of the serpents with a Limit Slash. I flared my aura to its fullest, pulling their attention toward me like moths to flame.

  A Searing Sphere shimmered into existence at my side, its heat warding off the closest attackers as I began to kite the swarm through the ruined street. “You can do this, Tucker! This is your first step in your journey to become strong!” I shouted, voice sharp with urgency but edged with encouragement as I slashed and darted forward, weaving through the tide of serpents, every movement a balance of survival and distraction. The grim dance had begun; but I had to lessen the burden on Balts shields as much as I could while the little man chose his path.

  Balt

  “Man, that guy pisses me off sometimes,” Balt muttered, shaking his head. “Always making crazy decisions. I swear, if one of those naga takes a bite out of his ass, maybe it’ll teach him to stop pulling stunts like that.”

  With that grumble, Balt turned to Tucker. “What options do you have?” “I have three,” Tucker replied quickly.

  Balt struck the remnants of the swarm with a Force Wave, blasting them back from the shield. Planting his staff firmly into the ground, he focused on fortifying the barrier. “Send them to me.”

  Tucker stepped closer, confusion flickering across his face. “How do I do that?” “Mentally click on it,” Balt instructed, his tone clipped but patient. “Think about sharing it with me.”

  “Like this?” Tucker asked, concentrating. A moment later, three glowing options appeared in Balt’s vision. He gave the wolf-bear a curt nod. “Just like that. Now, let’s see what you’re working with.”

  Tucker’s eyes flicked up from the glowing options hovering before him. “Balt… which one should I take?”

  Balt shook his head, tightening his grip on the staff as the shield hummed under pressure. “That’s not really my choice to make, pup. Classes aren’t about what others want, they’re about who you see yourself being in the future.” His gaze was steady, voice firm. "This is what I see each class is offering you, but you have to be the one to choose. If you’re a pure damage dealer, take that Bloodfang Reaver. If you’re the kind who stands tall, takes the hits, and protects your allies, then the Ironhide Sentinel is your path. But if you want to be a hybrid, disrupting enemy magic while slicing them apart and burning through their mana, then pick Riftfang Ravager.”

  Tucker swallowed, eyes darting between the glowing words. Before thinking through the options. He paused as battering sounds kept interrupting his thoughts, those creepy monsters kept bouncing off of the old man shields. Balt seeing his struggling to concentrate sent a Force Wave out, blowing them back into the surrounding buildings. “Thank you. Old Man”

  Balt scanned the area, his voice clipped with urgency. “Don't worry about the Naga, I got you, but you need to hurry, they’ll be back soon. That Talent doesn’t do much more than create some distance and slightly stun.”

  Wasting no time, Tucker focused inward, thinking about what kind of fighter he wanted to become. The Reaver class equaled raw power. He imagined his claws dripping with the blood of his enemies. It called to his instincts, but deep down he knew it was not truly him.

  The Sentinel class would make him a wall of iron, unyielding, the protector of the pack. It felt noble, my father would have chosen this one probably, but it feels wrong for me. He wasn’t sure he could bear that burden yet. He didn’t want to take hits; he wanted to deliver them.

  Finally, his eyes lingered on the Ravager class. A balance of feral strength and cunning disruption, striking hard while unraveling the enemy’s magic. Dangerous, but clever.

  His claws flexed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The choice crystallized. “I’ll take the Riftfang Ravager,” Tucker said to the system, his voice resolute. System energy surged around him, brighter than before, as his class took hold.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Balt gave a short nod, the faintest hint of approval in his eyes. “Good. Now let’s see you put it to work.”

  Instinctively, Tucker Howled. The creatures faltered, their blue mana claws, once raking against the shield, flickered into ordinary human fingers for the briefest moment before snapping back into claws.

  Balt barked a laugh. “Hey, not bad, pup. That’s pretty damn cool.”

  Tucker was breathing hard after the howl, chest heaving, but he managed a panting grin. “Awesome.” With that single word, he refocused, ready for the fight ahead. Ready to finally fight.

  Riven

  I bisected two of the creatures with an aura-filled slash and turned, ready for my next opponent. To my surprise, there were none. I sprinted back to the others and helped them finish off the last few stragglers that were still trying to pierce Balts shield.

  With a note of relief, Balt finally let his shield drop and pulled a mana potion from his inventory, drinking deeply to recover.

  “Well, what class did you end up picking, Tucker?”

  A glowing prompt flickered into my vision. I glanced at it and gave a short laugh. “Ravager, huh? That looks awesome, bro. Good for you. Now let’s see if we can find that hammer and get out of—”

  The words died in my throat as the ground began to tremble beneath my feet. The naga corpses littering the street dissolved into smoke, their forms unraveling into wisps of dark vapor. The smoke coiled and drifted, drawn inexorably toward the fountain at the center of the square.

  The fountain itself began to pulse as the smoke poured into it. Then the lake beyond shuddered, ripples turning into violent waves as the earth shook in rhythm. With a deafening roar, a massive naga erupted from the water. Its serpentine body towered above us, scales glistening like wet obsidian. It was every bit of twenty feet and water circled it in a spiraling vortex.

  A System Message blazed across my vision:

  Balt stared at the fountain, his face pale, he slammed his staff and another shield formed around us. “What the hell is this town? You clear it out, and it just triggers a damn boss battle.”

  I tightened my grip on my blade, forcing my breathing steady. “We can figure it out later,” I said, voice low but sharp. “Right now, we’ve got a big problem in front of us.”

  The massive naga reared back, its serpentine body coiling as water spiraled around it. Then it hissed, a piercing, guttural sound that rattled the air and launched a water missile straight toward us.

  I thrust my hand forward, summoning a Searing Sphere. The blazing orb intercepted the projectile, steam hissing as fire clashed against water. The impact scattered droplets across the cobblestones, mist rising in a sudden cloud.

  Balt stepped up beside me, slamming his staff into the ground enforcing the shield around us with mana. The falling water crashed against his barrier making a sizzling sound, rippling across its surface before fading away. It was obvious it was not normal water and I did not want to be touched by it.

  The naga’s eyes gleamed with malice, its coils tightening as the vortex around it grew stronger, spinning faster. The boss fight had truly begun. I narrowed my eyes at the towering naga, its vortex of water swirling like a living storm. I drew in a deep breath, forcing my aura to condense. I wanted to avoid direct combat if I could avoid it. Getting hit with what appeared to be acid water was not on my bingo card for the day. “Let me show you all something new,” I growled, channeling mana and aura into Ember.

  I kept channeling into the blade, until it was humming with power. Light formed on the blade edge. Ember felt unbelievable heavy with all the mana I was condensing. Soon the new technique felt ready. I raised Ember high; the words sharp on my tongue. “Let’s see how you deal with this.” With a surge of will, I unleashed my new technique, Searing Scar. The slash tore forward, a massive wave of mana erupting from the blade, carving a glowing scar across the battlefield as it raced toward the naga.

  But before the strike could land, the monster hissed and coiled tighter. The swirling water around its body surged outward, forming a barrier that intercepted my attack. My mana collided with the vortex in a thunderous crash, steam and spray exploding into the air. When the mist cleared, my slash was gone... completely negated.

  The naga’s mouth tilted upward into a gruesome smirk, its hiss echoing like laughter. My jaw clenched. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  Balt let out a low whistle. “Well, that was cool… but he definitely knows how to deal with that shit. It might have our number on ranged attacks. Any other moves you want to try out?”

  I silently gave Balt the finger and narrowed my eyes at the swirling water around the naga as it launched another volley of water missiles toward us.

  Then Tucker’s voice cut into my mind, into Balt’s too, raw and urgent. “I can feel it. My Howl of Fracture will work on it… but only for a brief moment.”

  “What howl?” I asked.

  A system prompt flickered across my vision as Tucker sent me the Talent. My lips curled into a grin. “This could work.”

  The naga hissed again, missiles hammering against Balt’s shield. He braced, teeth clenched, mana bleeding into the barrier. “Whatever you’re planning, make it quick. The shield won’t hold much longer.”

  I steadied my blade, aura thrumming along its edge. “Okay, Tucker. When you hear my voice say now… you howl your heart out. And I’ll hit it with a one-hitter quitter.”

  Tucker nodded, determination flashing in his eyes.

  I activated my movement Talent, the world blurring as I closed the distance. The naga’s massive tail whipped out, a blur of scales and muscle trying to impale me. I flashed again, reappearing at its flank.

  Tucker’s howl erupted, primal and resonant, shaking the battlefield. The naga faltered, its magic sputtered, the swirling water collapsing for less than a heartbeat. I could feel it even as I moved, the window Tucker had torn open was already snapping shut. If I hesitated, the vortex would reform and this chance would be gone.

  I seized that moment. My blade ignited with aura, and I unleashed a Limit Breaker Slash straight into the creature’s maw. The strike tore through scale and flesh, a blinding arc of power. The naga reeled back, eyes wide in shock, its magic silenced by Tucker’s howl.

  The battlefield rang with the echo of my strike, the air split by the force of it. The monster was split in two. The top half going back to the lake and the bottom half falling down on the beach.

  A System Message flashed across my vision:

  System energy shot through me and Balt giving each of us a level. Tucker’s voice rang out, tail wagging behind him. “I got three levels!”

  I grinned, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. “Hell yeah.”

  I turned at the sound of rock grinding. It was the fountain. It was shaking violently, stone against stone. With a deafening crack, it split open to reveal a gleaming silver chest.

  Balt let out a triumphant shout. “Woot!” He strode forward, and together we pried the chest open. Inside, resting in the center, was a massive block of obsidian metal, its surface shimmering faintly with system energy.

  Balt whistled low. “Well, how about that.”

  We fist-bumped, the gesture solid and satisfying after the chaos. I reached down and rubbed Tucker’s head, his fur damp with sweat and battle grit. “Disabling that magic came in clutch, man. Would’ve been a knock-down, drag-out without you.”

  Balt nodded, patting Tucker on the head as well. “He’s right. You saved our hides.”

  Tucker gave us that unmistakable dog smile, tongue lolling, tail wagging furiously. I stored the obsidian block into my inventory, the system confirming the transfer with a faint chime.

  Balt straightened, turning to Tucker. “Okay, pup. Can you locate the hammer?”

  Tucker sniffed the air, padding up and down the ruined street, nose twitching. Finally, he stopped at the edge of town, muzzle pointed toward a collapsed building. “I think I smell it in here.”

  Balt and I exchanged a glance, then followed him inside. The old structure creaked under our weight, dust motes swirling in the dim light. Tucker led us to a half-buried hammer, its haft jutting out from the rubble like a relic waiting to be claimed.

  I bent down, gripping the weapon, and pulled it free. The system confirmed its identity. I exhaled, relief washing over me. “Mission complete. Now let’s head back to Wayne with the good news.”

  The trip back was swift, in no time at all we were back at Wayne’s door. After a quick knock, his mother appeared, her expression weary. I set the hammer before her and arched a brow.

  Bewilderment and relief replaced her weary expression. She spun around, calling out, “Wayne! Wayne!”

  I heard a door creak open, and the young blacksmith appeared next to his mother. His gaze landed on me, shifting from confusion to sudden despair. I gestured downward, and his eyes fell upon the hammer. They widened instantly.

  With a shout, Wayne bolted forward, leaping into my arms. “You did it, you really did it!”

  I returned the hug, feeling the weight of his relief. When he finally pulled back, he ruffled Tucker’s hair with a fond pat, then turned to Balt with a grin and a solid fist bump.

  “Thank you, all of you,” Wayne said, his voice steady but carrying a tremor of something more than simple gratitude. His eyes searched mine, hope flickering there. “Did you find any other signs of my father?”

  I drew in a breath. “Unfortunately, no,” I admitted, my voice low. "I am sorry."

  Wayne’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded with quiet understanding. “I see,” he murmured. After a moment he straightened, resolve in his gaze. “Come on. To the forge. It’s time I upheld my part of the agreement. Let’s see those weapons upgraded.”

  Soon, we were all in the same spots we had been that morning. “Okay, who wants to go first, and how are we allocating the upgrades?” asked Wayne. I motioned to Balt to go first. Tucker does not have a weapon yet, and I think Balt needs upgrading the most. Use two of the upgrades for him. Balt’s eyes darted to me. “You sure?”

  I patted him on the back. “Of course I am. Our foes will only grow stronger, and you know the end goal. You having a proper weapon could mean the difference between life and death for us all.”

  Balt nodded with a quiet smile, then stepped forward and produced his staff. It was the same weapon he had carried since the day it dropped after the defeat of the Ravager Prime, granting him +15 Intelligence and +5 Spirit.

  Wayne ran his fingers across the staff, tracing the worn grooves along its length. He closed his eyes, muttering a low incantation as sparks danced across the wood. The air shimmered, and the staff’s shape shifted, its crooked wizard’s form straightening into something sturdier, sleeker.

  The weapon now resembled a battle staff, solid and balanced, meant for close combat as much as spell work. Wayne exhaled, sweat beading on his brow. “Okay… one more time.” The forge filled with a crackling hum as system energy converged on the weapon. With a blinding flash, the staff transformed again, its lines even more elegant, it looked smooth now, not a line of wood grain to be seen. At its center pulsed a yellow gem, glowing with raw energy, each beat sending ripples of light through the staff’s length.

  Wayne lowered his hands reverently, his voice steady. The System calls it “Lightning Force.”

  Balt reached out, awe in his eyes as he shared the weapon’s stats to us all:

  Balt grasped his newly forged staff, the pulsing gem casting arcs of yellow light across his face. He gave it a testing swing, the air humming with energy. A grin spread across his face. “I can kick some serious ass with this,” he declared.

  I couldn’t help but laugh and agree. “Hell yeah, you will,”

  “Are you good to continue?" I asked. A resounding "I am." Came from the young man. I raised my hand, summoning Ember. The familiar flame coalesced, and a prompt shimmered before my eyes:

  I didn’t hesitate. I hit Yes.

  Ember flared brilliantly, light spilling across the forge. For a moment it was blinding, then the light faded and I watched Ember break apart and then reform. My weapon resting once more in my grip. It felt different, more substantial, as though it carried new weight and power, yet when I raised it to test the weight, it felt heavier but easier to wield. I frowned slightly, confused by the paradox, but instinctively checked the stats:

  I put a little aura into the blade, and what had taken considerable effort and will now felt easy as breathing. I stared at the blade for a while before dismissing it.

  I lowered Ember, its glow fading as I dismissed it, and turned back to Wayne. “That was outstanding, Wayne. Thank you.”

  Then, in the quiet of my mind, I reached out to Tucker. “You still good with giving him that?” His voice came back steady. “Yes.”

  I shifted my gaze to Balt. He met my eyes and gave a simple nod, the kind that carried weight without words.

  Drawing a deep breath, I produced the large block of obsidian, its surface gleaming darkly. “We all agreed to give this to you,” I said, sitting it on the ground.

  Wayne’s eyes widened as he touched the stone, disbelief etched across his face. “This… this is too much. I could never pay for this.”

  I waved him off with a small smile. “It’s a gift.”

  He hesitated, then extended his hand. I clasped it firmly; the gesture sealing our bond. “Will be seeing you, kid.” I started to turn when a System Message hit me.

  The System Message faded, and I blinked, steadying myself against the sudden rush of power. Righteous. The word lingered in my mind like a brand.

  I glanced at Balt and Tucker. “Did you guys get the title too?”

  “Yes,” Balt said with a grin.

  “Yes,” Tucker echoed, his voice calm in my mind.

  With the new title and the upgraded weapons, this had been an amazing day. We said our last goodbyes to Wayne and headed back to the inn for the Masters Training.

  We made it home just after dark. The city street lanterns were lit, and the streets were still busy but no longer bustling.

  Before the inn came into view, Balt broke the silence, his staff resting across his shoulders. “We’ve got training to get to tonight and I can't wait. These next few months, let’s get stronger and win that tournament. I have a feeling these next few months are going to be an experience.”