Chương 41: Chapter 026 The Temple of Hermes

The temple of Hermes stood at the heart of the merchant quarter, its red-brick façade gleaming in the early afternoon light like a promise of divine fortune. Twin columns of pale limestone, carved in spirals to mimic the coils of serpents, flanked the entrance. Each serpent's tongue touched the base of a bronze caduceus that crowned the lintel, its wings outstretched as if ready to bear messages skyward.

The temple's great archway was inlaid with silver runes, a looping inscription that shimmered as one moved, the words appearing to follow the light: Fortune favours the fleet of foot and the quicker of mind. Above the arch, a frieze depicted scenes of exchange: sailors unloading goods, scribes tallying ledgers, and masked figures passing purses in the dark. At the centre stood Hermes, half-smiling, one hand extended in greeting, the other palming a golden coin behind his back.

The smile was neither kind nor cruel, only knowing, and it gave the impression that the God had already read every thought that entered the temple. A pair of bronze doors, etched with wings and compass roses, marked the threshold. Travellers had worn their handles smooth; merchants had left offerings of coins wedged between the door's seams, hoping for luck in their next deal.

Beneath the steps, rows of pigeon-holes lined the foundation, each stuffed with rolled messages or scraps of parchment, a tribute to Hermes as patron of messengers and scribes. Colourful banners of red and gold silk fluttered from the rooftop, painted with winged sandals and open hands. At the corners of the roofline, gargoyles shaped like foxes and ravens watched the crowds, their grins sly and mocking as if guarding secrets of their own.

And yet, for all its splendour, there was a strange sense of motion about the place, as if the temple might one day loosen its mortar, gather up its bricks, and vanish down the road in pursuit of new travels and fortunes. Jack smiled as he approached the steps where two Anubian guards stood in silence, leaning on their spears. He lowered his hood and retrieved an unimbued [Fireball] scroll from his jacket pocket, rolled it tight, and slipped it into one of the pigeon-holes as an offering.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"I pray Hermes, God of travel, trade, thieves, and scribes, smiles kindly on me today. May he bless my steps, and may the sun's radiant light guide me safely on the long road ahead." He glanced inside the temple with a grin. And another class would be highly appreciated. A faint draught passed through the alcove, tugging at the edge of the scroll. The coin wedged beside it shivered, giving a soft metallic chime. Whether the sound came from the wind or from Hermes, he could not tell.

Jack smiled and ascended the last few steps. Inside, the temple was vast and bright, yet its light would not stay still. Shafts of sun filtered through coloured panes that scattered restless wings of gold across the marble floor. No shadow lay quiet for long; each trembled as if stirred by invisible movement. The air carried the mingled scents of parchment, oil, and incense.

Somewhere deeper within, pens scratched parchment in rhythmic bursts, and sandals clicked against stone, echoing like distant footsteps keeping pace with his own. Jack felt Hermes here; not as a voice or vision, but as a presence woven into every book, parchment, and coin. The divine touch pressed against his senses. For a moment, he felt like he was back at the Royal Library, hunched over a dusty ancient tomb, uncovering its secrets.

He couldn't help but smile as he walked towards the Choosing Stone resting beneath the great statue of Hermes. The God's likeness loomed tall and fluid, carved as if mid-stride, one sandalled foot forever lifting from the floor. His eyes were cut from onyx, catching the light like dark mirrors. In his left hand, he held the caduceus; in his right, a rolled scroll pressed close to his heart. The sculptor had given him a faint smirk; Jack couldn't help but think of his younger sister after every prank or quip. Okay.

Let's see what happens now. Jack glanced up at the statue of Hermes. The statue seemed to watch him as he placed his palm upon the Choosing Stone. I pray I get another class. Warmth flowed up his arm, and light burst from beneath his hand; a rippling blue glow that spread across the polished floor. Jack smiled at the list of options.

[Class Selection Screen-Internal View] [Available classes: Student, Maid, Artist, Housekeeper, Researcher, Cook, Administrator, Scribe, Draughtsman, Librarian, Linguist, Mathematician, Scholar, Historian, Apprentice Scribe, Mage, Cartographer, Dancer, Jeweller, Poet, Bard, Blood Mage, Explorer, Beggar, Thief, Labourer, Actor, Woodsman, Carpenter, Tailor, Negotiator, Merchant, Farmer, Baker, Stable Hand, Horseman, Wanderer, Ice Mage, Fire Mage, Earth Mage, Priest, Architect, Outcast, Priest of Nemesis, Time Mage, Trapsmith, Brewmeister, Herbologist, Alchemist, Hunter, Swordsman, Warrior, Spearman, Hermit, Archer, Scout, Ranger, Blacksmith, Knight, Infiltrator, Tracker, Spy, Assassin, Rogue, Poisoner, Inquisitor, Priest of Demeter, Journeyman Scribe, Goblin Warrior, Priest of Hermes.] This time, three classes were stricken out: Scribe, Apprentice Scribe, and Archer. Jack gave a deep sigh of relief when he saw Journeyman Scribe was now available. He scanned the new classes.

"What the hell's a Goblin Warrior?" he muttered after noticing the new addition to the list. Having no way of knowing what a Goblin Warrior was, and no intention of choosing the strange class, he put it out of his mind. Let this be the right choice. The palm of his right hand itched where the blood-red rose had cut him. What does that mean? If that's a message, I don't understand. You'r e the God of messengers, c an't you send me a clear message? Jack glanced around the temple for a sign, but found nothing unusual.

He again glanced up at the statue of Hermes.

"You're all-knowing. Any advice on which class to choose?" He bowed. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The statue didn't answer as he stood there waiting for a clearer sign. Somewhere behind him, coins clinked, a door creaked, and a courier murmured a hurried prayer. Minutes passed, and nothing changed; the world moved on. Fine. As he was about to choose his class, a male cursed behind him.

"Damn it! Not now!" Jack spun around to find a middle-aged man with a mage's wand hanging from his belt. He was trying to stop the flow of blood from his nose with a piece of parchment. A nosebleed. Is that a sign? A young Priestess of Hermes offered the man a handkerchief. He dabbed his nose and thanked the woman. Jack watched as the pair moved away. He spent a minute considering what it might mean. Do y ou want me to choose a priest class so I can heal nosebleeds? His hand itched more this time.

Is that a yes or no? He spent another minute considering whether it was a God-given sign or a coincidence. With no more 'answers', he placed his hand back on the Choosing Stone and chose his class. Jack felt something shift in his mind and soul; instinctual class knowledge took root. For a fleeting instant, he felt eyes on him. He turned, catching the vague outline of figures standing among the deeper shadows between the pillars.

"Were they watching me?" Jack wondered aloud. They lingered only for a moment before fading back into the dark, leaving him uncertain whether they had ever been there. Jack sat on one of the pews, opened his system interface and concentrated on his new class.

[Class Screen-Internal View] Class: Novice Assassin (0) Compatibility: 57% Novice Primary Skills —Assassinate (0) —Backstab (0) —Dagger Proficiency (0) —Shadow Veil (0) —Assassin's Mark (0) —Silent Step (0) —Assassin's Intuition (0) He offered a wan smile as he noted the 57% Class Compatibility score. The percentage unsettled him. Considering he was an unfit bookworm, that was a good score for a combat class. The realisation hit hard. Damn. This meant the assassin class was a good fit for him.

Though, good news, he wasn't anticipating it. He shook his head. No. I'm not a killer… I'm still a sc r ibe. As he studied the interface, the temple's parishioners continued to pray. An old man offered a prayer to Hermes to help his son's failing tailoring business. A young mother prayed for the safe return of her husband, whose caravan's arrival in Lundun was overdue. I could've had some useful librarian skills or become a mage. Jack sighed at having to prioritise killing Greaves.

He'd given up short-term personal gains to protect his family. In f ive years' time, I can choose librarian and a mage class… Or even Journeyman Scribe. He recalled the new class offered. Or maybe I'll be the first goblin warrior. He chuckled. What's done is done. Jack considered the seven Novice Assassin Primary Skills. Their descriptions were recorded in many books he'd read, so he was already aware of what each skill offered. He went through the new skills one by one in his mind.

[Assassinate] was a core assassin skill. It worked best on unaware or weakened targets, a single devastating strike for an instant kill. I can't believe I'm an assassin now. He continued to analyse the skills. He lifted his gaze and picked a merchant seated several pews away. When he activated [Assassin's Mark], an awareness slipped over him. Threads of information settled into his senses: the man's steady pulse, his even breathing, the way his weight rested on one leg. Healthy, content, no protections.

The data would become more detailed and intimate as the skill levelled. A thought slipped into his mind: how simple it would be to sneak across the aisle, to strike his unsuspecting victim from behind with [Backstab], to feel the accuracy granted by [Dagger Proficiency]. His hand moved instinctively towards his dagger before he caught himself. He dismissed the thought with a sigh, though the impulse to act still pulsed beneath his calm. Don't allow the class to change who I am.

It was common knowledge that all classes impacted who the holder was. If they weren't careful, a class could fundamentally change who they were. Jack broke the mark from his target; the glow around the merchant vanished. Hmm, [Silent Step] and [Shadow Veil] are good passive skills. The former skill allowed the assassin to move without making a noise, while the latter allowed the assassin to blend into dim light or shadows. That would've been useful in the alleyway.

He was imagining hiding in the shadows, waiting for Greaves to pass by. [Assassin's Intuition] might have helped as well. The passive skill allowed the assassin to sense when they were being watched by someone with negative feelings towards them; it was an alertness just shy of paranoia. He shook his head. Too late now. The final skill was [Dagger Proficiency], which, as the name suggested, increased accuracy and damage with daggers.

Jack gripped the rough handle of his blade and felt even more comfortable than before; he felt ready to draw his dagger and strike. The urge to test the blade came with the same quiet certainty he felt before opening a new tome. Curiosity, not cruelty, but even curiosity could be a dangerous thing. He shook his head, feeling uncomfortable at how natural it all felt; it was like he was always meant to be an assassin of the Gods. Now, I have to train my archery and assassin skills to kill Greaves.

Jack began to adapt his plans in his mind. I need to spend at least one hour a day training in archery and another hour on my assassination skills. He had no intention of killing innocent people, but he could train his stealth skills by following unsuspecting strangers. If I can gain a few levels in [True Aim], [Piercing Arrow], [Shadow Veil], [Silent Step]… He paused his train of thought as he watched the bloody-nosed mage walk by; he no longer had a bloody nose. Where was I? Oh yeah.

And maybe train [Assassin's Mark] and [Assassin's Intuition] as well; those will give me the skills to kill Greaves and stay safe. Jack's adapted plan was to concentrate on two core archery skills, [True Aim] and [Piercing Arrow], and two core stealth assassin skills, [Shadow Veil] and [Silent Step]. This would allow him, with the aid of rune-enchanted arrows and poison, to kill the Baron from a distance while remaining hidden.

If his plan failed, he'd use his assassin skills to escape capture so he could try again. Having chosen his new class and analysed his skills, he prepared to leave. Jack once again stood before the statue of Hermes and closed his eyes.

"Thank you for this second chance." He frowned. Or should it be the third chance? A single bronze coin rolled across the floor behind him, clinking once before settling against his boot. When he looked, no one else was near. The air smelled of parchment and smoke. He bent, picked it up, and found the sigil of Hermes stamped upon it, the God's knowing smile engraved in bronze. Pocketing the coin with a bow to Hermes, Jack headed towards the exit, already sensing his new skills.

[Silent Step] murmured through his muscles, softening the weight of his heels as he stepped on the marble flooring of the temple. As he raised his hood, [Shadow Veil] prickled against his skin as he passed a dark alcove; it was as if the shadows leaned closer, drawing him in.

Back home, he returned the borrowed valet costume—hopefully for the last time—had a quick snack with his mom and Zia, slung his quiver and white oak bow across his shoulder, and set out towards the Adventurers Guild to train his archery skills. With so many skills to train and master, he couldn't afford idleness.