Chris was exhausted, his head pounding from using almost all of his Mana in the previous fight, and his Self-Regeneration Skill hadn’t had the time to heal him up enough to face another opponent.

  “No break?” he chuckled weakly, looking up at the empty stands, “That seems a little unfair.”

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen of the audience!” the announcer shouted, unperturbed by his comments, “The Champion!”

  The invisible crowd roared with excitement as the far grate lifted once again, Chris turning to look at the figure walking out. His eyes went wide as he watched the man, dressed in almost blinding white clothing, the metal of his armor gleaming a polished silver, leave the tunnel. His hair was neatly cut in a familiar hair style, his beard trimmed, unlike Chris’s. Brown eyes stared at Chris with contempt and confidence as the man hefted his one-handed mace onto his shoulder, a calm smile on his lips.

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Chris muttered as he looked at the copy of himself, looking every part the hero, especially compared to Chris’s sorry state, “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “Fighters ready?” the announcer shouted, Chris scowling as the voice didn’t give him a chance to even properly process what was happening, “BEGIN!”

  The copy charged forwards, air swirling around it in a familiar way as it moved far faster than it should have been able to. Chris swore under his breath as he reached into his bag, pulling out a Steel Mace of his own, barely managing to block the empowered strike from the white-clad clone. The copy proceeded to continue swinging wildly at him, a grin on its face as it attacked relentlessly.

  “Is this how I fight?” Chris gasped as he tried to defend, several powerful strikes getting through even as he tried to defend himself, “It’s so…sloppy.”

  The strange realization triggered something in his mind, a cool wave of knowledge flowing over his thoughts as Chris continued to dodge and block, weathering the occasional hit. Gasping for air, he ducked under a wide swing, bringing his mace up to strike the other him in the chin, but the clone just leapt back, a shit-eating grin on its face.

  “Right,” Chris hummed as he watched the copy, the man slowly walking around him as he adjusted his grip on his mace, “I can do this.”

  “And it seems that the Champion is finally done with his warm-up!” the announcer shouted, “Now the real show begins!”

  Chris watched as the clone launched itself right back at him, amazed by how its speed seemed to have doubled, not giving him enough time to react as the mace slammed into his side. Chris bit back a scream of pain as he tried to counterattack, the clone simply grabbing his wrist as he tried to raise his weapon. The sharp point of the copy’s knee guard dug into Chris’s stomach, making him gasp as the air was forced from his lungs, before another powerful blow sent him flying back, landing hard on the sandy floor.

  Stunned, Chris’s mind was working overtime, trying to fight and process the strange knowledge that was flooding his brain at the same time. Why was this happening now, he wondered, his Studious Sage Skill had never done anything like this before, so why was it suddenly feeding him so much information? Shaking his head, he tried to stand, coughing up blood as he wheezed for breath, the pain in his side lancing through his chest.

  “Fuck…you…” he coughed as the copy simply walked slowly towards him, the same confident look on its face as he staggered to his feet, “I am not going down without a fight, you bastard!”

  The copy shot forwards again, Chris scowling as he let the knowledge that was filling his head take over for a moment, simply stepping to the side as the clone swung its mace straight down. The crowd gasped as Chris easily evaded the simple attack, leaving the copy exposed as he brought up a knee, slamming it into the copy’s gut. The so-called Champion rolled away, gasping for breath as Chris gave a cruel smile, his head swirling, though if it was from overusing his Mana or the strange knowledge currently filling his thoughts, he didn’t know.

  “Not so nice, is it?” Chris chuckled, lifting his own mace, “Now, get out of my way!”

  The clone quickly lifted its mace to block, the two weapons clashing as they bounced off each other, Chris grinning as he swung a foot up, catching the copy in the jaw and throwing it onto its back.

  “I can’t believe I managed to survive while fighting like that,” Chris hummed as he approached the clone, “I was so full of openings, it’s almost laughable!”

  The copy just scowled at him, the sand swirling around it as it launched itself back at him, Chris easily dodging the clumsy strike, bringing his own mace down on the copy’s back. The copy grunted as it hit the ground, Chris hopping backwards to avoid the wide swing as it tried to hit his legs, feeling almost giddy from the deluge of information flooding his brain. With a grunt, Chris brought his mace down on the exposed shoulder of the clone, making it scream in pain as he felt bones break under the hit, its arm going limp as it dropped its weapon.

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  “Wait...” Chris muttered as he looked at the prone copy, clutching its arm as it stared up at him defiantly, “Why haven’t you been using any magic other than the power up? Don’t I usually weave in spells to my attacks? Does that mean you’re not a perfect copy?”

  “Go to hell,” the clone said, Chris blinking at the strange sensation of hearing his own voice coming from another mouth, except it was weirdly off.

  “So, you really aren’t a perfect copy?” Chris nodded, “Guess it won’t be as weird then.”

  “Weird?” the copy snorted, staggering to its feet as it glared at him, “Why weird?”

  “I mean, if you really were a perfect copy,” Chris hummed, “Then I’d be kicking myself in the balls.”

  “What?” the creature said as the armored foot slammed into its crotch, making it gasp in pain, collapsing back to its knees.

  “Also, this would have probably counted as suicide,” Chris hummed as he raised his mace, swinging it at the head of the stunned clone as hard as he could.

  The crack echoed over the coliseum as the strike hit the copy in the side of the head, crushing the side of its skull, the so-called Champion collapsing to the ground, lying completely still as blood soaked into the sand. Silence hung in the air for a moment, before the invisible crowd erupted in cheers, startling Chris as he looked around at the empty seats.

  “And the Challenger has won!” the announcer screamed out, “Congratulations! Your final prize lies in wait just through the gate! Go, new Champion, seek your destiny!”

  Chris watched as the gate the clone had entered from lifted again, nothing coming out this time. He walked tiredly towards it, forcing himself to stay on his feet even as the adrenaline faded, and he felt the waves of exhaustion hit him. Shaking his head as the crowd continued to cheer, he staggered into the darkness of the tunnel, almost tripping on the flagstones as he went. He walked forwards for a while, his body screaming at him to stop and rest, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

  Suddenly, he found himself in a white room, a familiar door on the opposite side. The massive bronze structure looked exactly as it had when he had first entered the Dungeon, still glowing with a strange inner light. Chris staggered forwards, looking around for the final golden chest, scowling when he only saw a silver one just in front of the door. Then a screen popped up in front of him.

  [Congratulations! You have completed the EX+ Rank Dungeon {The Trial of Turmoil}! You may now select a Class and Job.]

  “Class?” Chris blinked, “Job? How does that work?”

  He immediately knew that his Class would be determined by how he’d fought through the Dungeon, basically, it would define his fighting style, while his Job was chosen by his actions outside of combat and could be anything from a crafting profession to something totally inane. Letting out a tired groan, he simply glared at the screen, which was quickly replaced by a list of Classes and Jobs, each list split into Ranks.

  “Let’s see then,” Chris muttered as he scrolled through the list, “Stuff like Fighter and Mage are both Rank D, so they’re out. Actually, let’s just skip right to the S Rank Classes.”

  Chris looked over the three options, scowling as none of them seemed to fit his style.

  “Commander? I don’t really like the idea of ordering people around. And Survivalist? Did I only get these because of my Titles or something?”

  Shaking his head in disappointment, he looked at the A Rank Classes instead, reading several of the descriptions as he went. Then one caught his eye, a slight smile cracking his lips as he selected it, scanning the description.

  “Perfect,” he hummed, “I’ll be a Battlemage! Now for Jobs!”

  The process was much the same as with Classes, Chris being wholly disappointed by the two choices he had for S Rank, and not even being that interested in any of the options for A Rank either. He scrolled down to the B Rank Jobs, looking through them for a moment, before he saw the Alchemist Job, something in the back of his mind telling him it would be a good pick. He quickly read the description, nodding thoughtfully.

  “So, an Alchemist uses magic to make stuff like equipment and potions? While it tends to take longer, the products are usually of a higher quality, though,” he muttered, “Did I get access to this because I made some basic Health potions when I was cooking mushrooms?”

  Shrugging, he selected the Job, watching as the screen vanished, only to be replaced by another one, then several more.

  [Five Skills gained.]

  [Like Skills detected. Skill {Air Magic} has been fused with Skill {Elemental Magic}.]

  [World First Achieved: Complete an EX+ Rank Dungeon. Rewards: Skill Rank increase.]

  [World First Achieved: Complete an EX+ Rank Dungeon Solo. Rewards: Class and Job Rank increase.]

  [World First Achieved: Complete a Dungeon on Hell Difficulty. Rewards: {Demon} Title.]

  [Class Evolution in progress. Your new Class is {War Magister}.]

  [Job Evolution in progress. Your new Job is {Master Alchemist}.]

  [Skill Evolution in progress. Multiple Skills have Evolved.]

  Chris could only stare dumbfounded as the screens flashed in front of him, his mind and body too tired to properly process what was happening. Then another screen appeared, Chris reading over it in confusion.

  [Your {Potentia Garb} is Evolving. {Potentia Garb} Evolved into {War Magister’s Raiment}.]

  “Okay,” Chris sighed as he dismissed the screen, staggering tiredly towards the door, pausing only long enough to open the large silvery-white chest just in front of it, stuffing the contents into his bag without looking before he touched the door, which swung open silently, revealing the darkness beyond, “Time to go home.”