Rose waited a moment or more after Lios stopped singing to stir. She stretched languidly despite having only been lying down for half an hour or so; her body was stiff and strange feeling. A touch tingly, if she were to describe it.

  Despite the odd sensations, however, she smiled eagerly, willing her system to appear before her. A scroll seemingly appeared in the air before her, appearing as a song in the air. Of course, she was the only one who could see the notes and words on the oh so familiar scroll.

  [Name]

  Rosalia

  [Race]

  Human

  [Stats]

  Str 20

  Con 32

  Dex 75

  Wis 40

  Int 58

  Cha 91

  Luck 25

  [Class]

  [Melodic Minstrel] LVL: 13

  [Class Skills]

  [Aria of Vitality]

  [Virtuoso’s Verse]

  [Songstress’ Zeal]

  [Lute Adept]

  [Flute Novice]

  [Singing]

  4x Unavailable

  [General Skills]

  [Cleaning] LVL: 13

  [Running] LVL: 13

  [Sewing] LVL: 12

  [Bartering] LVL: 13

  [Waitressing] LVL: 13

  5x Unavailable

  Her eyes gleamed as she gazed over her new skills and stats. Doing the math quickly in her head, she realized that she had gained an even one hundred stat points from just two levels. Grinning, she came to the understanding that she had just gotten an uncommon class. Of course, this was still only the second rarity of class, but it was better than what most commoners got for the first selection. With any luck, she would be able to upgrade it to a rare class by the time she was level fifty!

  “So, did you get what you wanted?” Lios’s cheerful voice rang out from the side of the clearing, startling her. She had been so lost in her new status sheet that she had nearly forgotten his presence.

  “Oh, uhm, yes, it’s amazing! This class feels... It feels perfect! And I got some new skills and - OH MY GOSH! I can do magic now! I got an active skill! [Aria of Vitality]. I neeeeed to try it out!” She spun to look for her lute, which was resting against a boulder as she had left it. So distracted was she that she failed to notice the burnt stick next to Lios with its interesting and intricate etchings from the lightning mana, or the split stone a few yards away.

  Forgotten as well was the strange song her friend had been singing, the slight melancholy in his voice a memory for now. Of course, once she got past her excitement, she would have to ask him about it, but for now she was like a child having just unwrapped a new toy beneath the Christmas tree, the last gift beside them and forgotten.

  Quickly, she lifted her lute and began to strum, trying to think of a song that she felt matched the skill’s name. After a moment she settled on a fast-paced drinking song called “Sailors Swig”. She immediately began to sing, pouring thoughts of vitality and health into the song, directing it toward Lios. Like most active skills, the means to use it came fairly intuitively, and she swiftly felt mana trickle out of her mouth and fingers. With every word, her mana filled the air; with every strum, vitality rushed into her friend. Bruises from training, a constant reminder of his hard work, and aching muscles soothed and healed rapidly.

  His eyes widened with surprise at the sensation. His mother had healed plenty of his wounds in the past, though never the bruises, only scrapes to fight off infection, and this feeling was not dissimilar. It felt less directed, however, and before she could finish the song, he noticed the effect the lack of direction was having on her. Her eyes started drooping after nearly a minute of concentrating on the song, and she was forced to stop singing.

  “Wow! That was amazing! You got a healing skill? That’s incredible, Rose!” Lios commented as he rose to his feet and walked over, glancing down at his freshly unbruised torso. He watched as her eyes glazed over, a sign that she was looking at her status, before a grin lit up her visage.

  “I got a couple of skill levels already, Lios! That felt awesome!” Despite the sleepiness that came with using a lot of mana in a short time, she shot to her feet , set down her lute very carefully, then rushed forward and squeezed Lios with all of her might. “Thank you... Thank you for helping convince me... This is everything I dreamed of. Thank you, LiLi.”

  He stood shocked for a moment before returning the embrace. With a grin, he wrapped his own arms around her. “I’m glad, I really am. Though, I doubt you’ll be thanking me if your parents find out. Maybe they’ll let you start playing at the tavern if they know it has magical properties, aye?”

  She pulled away slowly, wiping an errant tear from her eye, returning his rueful smirk. “I’ll make them. They’ll see how good this can be for the tavern and me, and they'll acqui.... Acqui... how do you say that word again?”

  “Acquiesce?” At times it was difficult to remember she was still so young, and so was he for that matter. At least, in everyone’s eyes. “By the way, uhm... Would you watch over me while I select my class too?”

  Her eyes glimmered as she nodded eagerly. “Of course! Definitely! But are you sure you’re ready? It’s only been a couple of weeks since you got the system, right? Are you even level ten yet?”

  “Of course I am! Don't worry, I’ve been ready for ages.” A glower met her teasing grin. A giggle and a good-natured chuckle followed soon after, joining the rustle of leaves and bubbling of a brook.

  Without further ado, Lios laid his head down on the shirt-made pillow and closed his eyes. In the midst of the dark, a glowing blue screen, not dissimilar to what one might expect to see in a video game, appeared, asking a simple question.

  Would you like to select a class?

  [Yes] [No]

  With a mental prod, the young boy, a former man, selected the affirmative. Then, the darkness seamlessly shifted from pitch dark to a gray-scale world. The floor, where none had existed before, became a dark inch-deep pool of water. The sound of distant rapids filled the blank space surrounding Lios as he looked around. On the horizon was simply more darkness, unending. The opposite of Janus’s purgatory.

  The world was endless. The water was still and perfect, like a sheet of glass spanning a planet. The only interruptions were podiums and tables laid out in concentric circles all around him. He stood in the center of one such circle, surrounded by the first five podiums. Each held a glow beneath it, a dull gray light shimmering off the perfect water.

  The only sound, save for his breathing, was the sound of the piano. Vivaldi, perhaps? A gentle song, one ideal for making choices and considerations. Melodious as it was, he could not help but wish to continue listening to Rose’s song. It wasn’t the song itself that evoked such a desire, but the magic held within it. It had been unlike anything he had heard, and the feeling that accompanied it was unmatched. I’ve always said music is healing, but she took it to a different level. It’s like I could feel her absolute exhilaration at singing, so emotional...

  He shook his head, smiling gently at his friend's excitement from getting magic, and turned to observe the various podiums and tables, workstations and weapon racks that filled the surrounding space. Glancing up, he took in the dark blue sky, a deep indigo that denoted twilight in most spaces. Normally, without the light, he would be unable to see further than a few feet in front of him, but somehow, perhaps by some working of magic, he could see far into the horizon.

  A book sat nearby on a lectern, the top of which looked not unlike a granite countertop. On reading the title, having approached said lectern, sending small ripples through the water that made up the floor, he saw the class represented was [Apprentice Chef]. Curious as to what the book would say, excited fingers flipped through the pages to find a variety of recipes. Each represented a different skill or portion of the path that lay ahead for an [Apprentice Chef], from [Amateur Knife Work] to a skill named [Searious Cook], which seemed to be all about how to sear different types of meats and vegetables to bring out the best flavors. Each page highlighted a different aspect of the class, and the later pages made note of varieties of potential paths one could take with the class.

  Wandering about, he idly checked a number of books and screens, stone tablets and scrolls, all telling about different uninteresting classes that he qualified for. Given their nature as common classes, they were abundant. Ripples crossed over the still water as he moved about, reading about a number of class options. [Tailor’s Apprentice], which he qualified for by working with his mother on occasion, was quickly discarded. It promised a life of mundanity that he could not perceive in himself, not again. [Novice Dancer] seemed like it could fulfill his dreams of travel, showing a number of options for him such as joining a wandering minstrel or group, befriending and being employed by a member of nobility, or simply performing during local festivals. Alas, it was obviously not a correct fit for the boy who had spent the last four years training a number of weapons. [Librarian’s assistant] seemed to allude to the time he spent in the library or the chapel learning about the world.

  Dozens of options came before him, each mundane and outside of his desired future. There was plenty of media to be sucked into, each book, tablet, scroll, orb, and screen telling a different story about a different Lios with different motivations. All of them were wrong for the version of him that walked this path at this time.

  The Lios of now could not picture himself as a tailor, now or in the future. He couldn’t see himself measuring fancily clad patrons, chatting amorously and flirting vivaciously. Cooped up in a decent-sized store, his financial future at the whims of the nobility, at the whims of trends. He could not imagine a life as a chef, hidden away from patrons as he cooked foods both new to him and foreign to those of Jorial, no, of Ravos. He could use some of his knowledge to bring new flavours to Ravos, but that held no real interest to Lios.

  Alongside the copious lit podiums, there were twice, three times as many that didn’t have any sort of light. On looking at them, he found that while he could read them, he could not select them; these were classes he could not access for one reason or another. Part of him wanted to give in to his curiosity and see what classes were all available, but given the sheer number of them on the unending horizon, he knew it would simply be a waste of time and energy.

  Then, after reading and watching dozens of stories, he found himself in a circle of eight podiums. Of them, only four were lit, but all were lit a color that was vastly different from the dull gray light on the rest. Each of these was shimmering with a dark blue energy, perhaps denoting rarity, or maybe these were simply the options his subconscious knew would be the most likely to be taken.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Thus far, each class he had access to, from [Gardener] to [Swordsman] contained an aspect of himself, an iota of his personality, goals, joys embraced in a single profession or hobby. As he stepped closer to these four blue podiums, the first a structure that seemed to have been carved from a sheet of obsidian, he felt like they were so much more than the rest. They were more him, closer aligned with who he was and who he wanted to be.

  With an eagerness that had faded while he was looking at the rest of the class options, he lifted a smooth black stone from the obsidian podium. A single word appeared in his mind, [WorldWalker]. The stone lit up, a dark purple energy coming from the back of it, but when he turned it over, the light moved to the other side, then images appeared on the surface facing Lios.

  It was like watching an anime starring himself. He was enraptured as soon as the images started to appear, unwilling to set the captivating media down. The effigy opened portals and stepped through them to explore various parts of both this world and others, though none of them were recognizable as Earth from the outset. He sought audiences with kings and emperors, lowly gods and demons from different iterations of the underworld. He spoke with fae queens, having a disagreement and using his power to send her to a faraway realm.

  All in all, the class was epic. It was terrifying, powerful, respected. So many different things, but one thing stood out above the rest. It was costly. The mana needed to cast even the simplest spatial spell was astronomical. The amount of energy to open a portal and move even a dozen feet was more than what Lios contained in his entire body.

  Yet, all the things a [WorldWalker] was, were things Lios himself aspired to be. Adventurous, tenacious, defiant. Well-respected, greatly feared, they made their own laws and were not constrained by the laws of the world they were on. Some were thieves and some heroes, bouncing between the planes to solve problems and save those who could not save themselves. All [WorldWalker]’s were, however, free. Impossible to pin down by all but the most cunning foes.

  With a sigh, as he reached the end of the possibility, he placed the stone tablet back down on the obsidian lectern. It lay inert, with no sign of the wondrous and terrible images it had just shown him. Perhaps later, third class maybe? He mused as he turned to the next.

  A book rested on a stand that looked not unlike the stump of a tree. [Vulpes Amicum], the dark brown cover read in golden script. Fox friend, in Latin. Lios wasn’t sure how he knew the meaning considering his lack of knowledge of the language, but wrote it off as System shenanigans for the time being, shelving it with all the other quirks he knew about the obscure overlord. Instead of worrying about the System, about how it knew a language from his world, about how it forced him to understand it no matter what language it spoke to him in.

  He cleared his mind of these thoughts of this strange magical entity and moved on to read more about the class. Flipping open the pages of the book, it was revealed to be a sort of storybook with pop-up cutouts. A pair of foxes dancing round a fire or hunting in the meadows. One dark gray and another silver, their pelts so wildly different despite coming from the same litter. The book showed Sky wrapped up around Alexilios’s shoulder like a scarf while Luka darted through the woods, eagerly hunting small game. It showed a bright green and gold energy coming from the swordsman's hands, closing whatever scratches and wounds the foxes had gathered in their hunts.

  It showed the dark form of Luka getting hurt on adventures with Sky swooping in to save him, while all Lios could do was stand back and support them. On seeing this, the boy’s heart grew heavy. Melancholy spread over his face as he read on. His precious companions continued to get hurt, protecting him from dangers he was unequipped to face himself. These scenes were not the only reason to decline this class, but they certainly helped to cement the decision. He would never be able to stand in the sidelines watching his companions get hurt over and over. It was an impossibility.

  In the end, the [Vulpes Amicum], the fox friend, was not him. It was someone who often found themselves in the trees, in nature, away from people. They were loyal and fierce but not physical combatants, instead, they were support for their companions. Friends of nature, looked upon favourably by the trees and streams and rocks. They were able to speak to nature, more a druid than a wizard. Limited not only to the vulpes, the amicum sought connection with all of nature. They were protectors of the forest, and their responsibilities extended far beyond the foxes; as such, they were not Lios, and Lios was not one of them.

  A third book, on a pedestal that looked remarkably similar to a ritual altar, glowed a darker shade. It seemed to shift through a variety of colors, not beholden to the indigo that represented its rarity. The cover simply couldn’t stay the same either, it’s designs changing with each passing moment. Letters shimmering with incandescent light read [Apostle of Chaos]. Immediately, the boy knew this was not the story he wanted to tell, nor live, but he found himself too curious to put the book down right away.

  Upon opening the book, Lios was met with only more words. These were strange, however, as they moved from one language to the next. One moment the book was written in Japanese kanji, the next in Spanish and another moment later it was the now familiar Jorian language that greeted the boys’ eyes. Despite the constant change, Lios understood every word. It was easy to see immediately that this class was related to the god that had given Lios this chance.

  The duties of the [Apostle of Chaos] had him scoffing. Convincing others to worship the gods of chaos, of which there were none in Ravos, praying for storms and disasters and pandemonium. Wishing for discord and war, sowing seeds that may grow into tumultuous events. An [Apostle of Chaos] was a worshiper of dissonance, and a bringer of turmoil. They garnered fear from their foes and wariness from allies, who were never sure where their loyalties lay. They were looked upon with distaste, unable to form a true relationship except with other Apostles, or villains. A lonely life, a solitary existence bred for a single purpose - to make others’ lives more difficult. As expected, there was no chance Lios would ever select this class.

  Still, he read it. He was too curious not too, too curious about the god that had found his lost soul in purgatory. Janus was not a god spoken of in the Ravos mythos, at least not so far as Lios had found. It didn’t help that the god had chosen a name from the mythos of Earth, so Alexilios had no idea as to his true identity.

  In the beginning, the apostle was not sowing seeds of war but merely pulling pranks using whatever strange magic they were gifted by the system. In order to gain essence and experience, they needed to slowly ramp up their efforts, going from harmless pranks to harmful ones. In the book, one example was making it appear that a faithful man was cheating on his partner, causing a rift to form in their relationship. Another example after that was an escalation, going from breaking up marriages to starting a minor rebellion in that same small town.

  From there, things only got worse. The apostles didn’t necessarily commit crimes, though they could. In some examples, setting fire to a famed library or an important building caused more chaos than planting seeds of pandemonium. As the stakes grew higher, so too did the seeds become more ambitious. Going from starting a strike in a mining town to setting the common folk against their rulers, the class didn’t hold back as it reached the later tiers. Some instances even showed the summoning of demons or extra-planar entities to slaughter the masses.

  Of course, not every instance of chaos was negative. Some of the short stories told of unveiling plots by the government, providing legitimate reasons for rebellion. Others were smaller, revealing true cheaters or true criminals rather than framing them. These instances showed the tumult of revelations without harming innocents, though in some cases innocents were caught in the crossfire. There were ways to be an agent of chaos and still be a positive influence on the lives of the masses, but even still there would be little trust from allies and enemies.

  Having enjoyed the read, but knowing it was not for him, Lios set the book back down with a sigh. What a lonely life that would be, huh? He pondered, looking out to the horizon to see if he could find any other colorful classes. He knew he would find one; it was a miracle he had been shown four blue classes, which he assumed was rare based on how the system worked thus far.

  From what he knew, it presented itself in ways the user would understand best, and so for Lios it appeared as a video game. He knew full well that what was happening was real, but the presentation and gamification made it somewhat more comfortable for Lios. As such, he suspected that the grey podiums were common, and green lit ones would be uncommon. Upon seeing these blue ones, however, he had ignored the green. Briefly, he debated seeking some out if only to confirm his suspicions, but knew that he was merely trying to distract himself. Having reached the last blue class, he was hesitant to read the book. What if it wasn’t what he had been training so hard for? Would he have to backtrack and find the green that was closest, or pivot into something new like [WorldWalker]?

  He couldn’t imagine he would be disappointed with that class, but that it would be extremely difficult to use in the early levels. Even then, he could probably still use his sword and spells with the class, but it would be that much harder. No, he would stick with his plan even if there wasn’t a blue class ready for him.

  A deep inhale, lungs inflating, and he turned his attention to the last available class. A small book, thin and bound by string. It was beaten up, well used, read by many hands or so it seemed. Stepping up to it, the title glimmered with silver. The text seemed to have faded from years of use, from being passed through too many hands, but on reading it he knew.

  None of his efforts had been in vain. The System had acknowledged his efforts; it had rewarded them. The title was a single word, but it stood out.

  [Bladedancer]

  On opening to the first page, he could see it was a well thought out martial arts tome. A story told through actions, through strikes. The figure within pranced through enemies, dozens of them, slicing through them, parrying attacks, and creating spell circles with every movement. He was focused and driven, not by greed nor the simple promise of power, but by the exhilaration that power gave him. The freedom contained in it. Not unlike a bird riding the wind, the [Bladedancer] followed the flow of a battle, no! They decided it. They led the dance and set the rhythm of war.

  On one page, they wove a spell of flame and immediately transitioned to one of water. Their movements would go from stiff to fluid, from tense to loose, at a moment's notice, as the situation required. They were not beholden to a single weapon, nor to a single fighting style, but were rather a jack of all trades. From a standard shortsword to a spear to a glaive back down to a simple dagger, they flowed through techniques and disrupted their opponents. Experts in combat, they were unmatched even by dozens of foes.

  They picked up new techniques wherever they went, and they went wherever their feet took them. Not held down by any obligations, the [Bladedancer] went where their desire told them to, fighting for what their heart told them to. They were creatures of whim. More than that, though, the [Bladedancer] was one who could stave off entire armies for their allies. They were those who could entertain folk who had lost everything, bringing light to terrible situations. A [Bladedancer] sought glory and knowledge and adventure.

  A fighter, a warrior, but more than that, they were a source of light for those they could save and a source of fear for those who threatened the peace. Seekers of martial knowledge, purveyors of spell craft, and rarer than [Archwizards] and [Swordsaints]. It wasn’t a class for the faint of heart, taking two of the most difficult masteries and smashing them into one. It was terrifying. Not all the pages in the tome represented success; no, it showed frequent failures - lessons. A [Bladedancer] was tenacious, brave, whimsical, foolish and clever. They were the essence of both a swordsman and an entertainer, of a wizard and a cultivator, all at once. A series of contradictions that somehow complemented each other.

  Lios reached the last page, taking in all that the tome told him. He cast his gaze over the distance, taking in all the lights, all the unlit podiums. Thousands, millions, perhaps even billions of options lay before him, and yet he knew this was the option for him. Heat welled up within his chest, excitement. His choice was made. Millions of other versions of him existed, but this version was correct.

  All those years of fantasies and effort had led to this moment, to finding a beat-up martial arts tome on a simple wooden lectern. Despite having read only a couple dozen stories, a sureness settled over him. He set it down, lips upturned, and mentally prodded the System.

  You have selected the class [Bladedancer]

  Caution, this choice cannot easily be undone. This choice will likely affect the rest of your life. Are you sure that you would like to become a [Bladedancer]?

  Yes/No

  With an iota of will, he affirmed his choice. The book before him shimmered and glowed, a bright blue light coming from it before it shattered into a billion pieces like glass dropped from a skyscraper, each minuscule fragment rushing into Lios. A burning sensation, like his veins were filled with fire ants, spread throughout his body, and he fell down onto his back, unable to move. The water of this space licked his back, but it only felt comforting, even as the world around him fell into pieces.

  The mental plane fell away, and he was left in darkness, surrounded by shadows. His body was then racked with pain, so much so that he was thrown into a silent scream, unable to even utter a sound. His muscles tore and rebuilt themselves, the effort of dozens of workouts slammed into a single moment, then repeated over and over as they were forcibly strengthened, turning from a steel wire to a cable. His bones followed suit, developing microfractures and refilling them, twisting his ligaments and forcing them to stretch beyond their limits.

  He was unable to think, unable to process information, the only thought was surviving this insane pain. Unsure how long this went on, he faded in and out of consciousness. The pain was too much for him to fully slip, and it changed too much for him to settle into a restful lull. Before long, however, the pain-filled dark was replaced with something new.

  A dull light warmed his eyelids, closed as they were, and a gentle song bled through the surrounding air. Clean notes plucked from a lute and a melodious voice greeted him as he regained consciousness. Like his friend, despite the intense desire to stretch and move, he waited for the song to reach its conclusion, relishing the moment of peace, a moment away from that pain. A pain he felt he’d remember for time immemorial.

  Then the song faded, and he blinked his eyes open, yawning despite how early it seemed to be in the day. With it nearing summer, the suns were up longer with each passing day, but judging by their positions, it was likely only a few hours before supper. Not too long after he had gone into that strange System space.

  Stretching, he glanced over at Rose, who looked at him with ample curiosity. He smirked and got to his feet, making sure to stretch thoroughly his muscles to rid them of the phantom pain from gaining a class. He held up a finger, holding off any questions that he knew were about to come, and went to look at his new status and the various notifications awaiting him.