Chương 5: -5- Choices Of The Desperate

Calder—Tomb Of Kings Calder slowly came back to consciousness; flashes of pure cold kept strobing against his face. As his eyes fluttered open, he took in an insane sight. Lord Dectus was right in front of him, repeatedly 'slapping.' His ghostly hands through Calder's face, trying to wake him. A surprising mix of concern and frustration on his spectral features. Calder's first reaction was to let out an almost disbelieving chuckle; that was a mistake.

Agony lanced from inside him as the chuckle rattled out, followed by a weak cough that leaked blood from his lips. Calder painfully looked out at the aftermath of the battle, trying to gather his thoughts through the haze of pain and weakness he was feeling. Vin lay in a gruesome pool of gore, split open from the top of his torso where Calder had wrenched the sword free. And Rendar wasn't far away, lying in a now sticky-looking puddle where he fell next to the sarcophagi. Gods.. im really fucked up.

His blow across my ribs broke more than one important thing inside me. Calder tried to stand, but his limbs wouldn't obey him. Dectus continued frantically gesturing towards him, trying to pantomime something out. He gestured at the dead men and then at Calder over and over. He even went so far as to try and spell something out in the air. Calder caught the tail end of one of the words, and he could have sworn it was 'class.'

It hit Calder like a bolt through his injured haze, adrenaline clearing his mind forcefully for a moment. I'm dying; no one is coming to save me. I can't stand; Dectus can't do a damn thing to help me. I might survive if I select a class; improved physical defense could well keep me alive or at least stabilize me until someone comes down here to check. With an effort of will, Calder nodded slightly towards Dectus and flung his consciousness down into his sanctuary.

It was like leaping from a cliff and through the darkness of the void itself. There was always a chill within his sanctuary, but never like this. The transition was violent from hurtling through the darkness to being battered by wind-whipped shards of ice; he impacted heavily on his feet at the foot of the stone staircase. Calder had long wondered what form his essence would take in his sanctuary.

There was always a physical representation of some kind in everyones that showed the unspent essence in a very easily understandable form. Some had lakes; others would have mounds of metal ready to be forged. He had even heard of people having looms overflowing with string representing potential itself. Calder looked around himself at the almost impenetrable blizzard whipping across his soul. Ice crept up the stairs like jagged claws.

The snow on the ground rose to his knees this time, fang-like spires of ice jutting out in thick lines that trailed away from the stairs towards his mausoleum, almost like a path of frost. Calder's breath came out in a thick cloud as he spoke quietly to himself, "Huh, the cold. I honestly didn't expect ice and blizzards to be how my essence was depicted, but it certainly is pretty, if a bit bleak."

He took another moment watching the snow tear through the nearby pine tree's thick powdery boughs before crashing against an invisible barrier that was the end of his sanctuary. He pulled his focus back to the task at hand; he could feel himself growing cold. And not in his sanctuary, his body kept tugging back on his consciousness, trying to warn him of the danger he was in. Calder stalked down the fangs of ice and straight over the frozen threshold of his mausoleum.

He stepped across a thin sheet of ice that crackled under his feet, spiderwebbing across the pristine floor. He looked around cautiously as he walked across the barren room towards his [Core Statue]. A part of him had been worried after his actions over the last few days this room wouldn't be empty any longer. But as always, still and empty as the grave. His statue had changed, though it still showed him greeting the maiden a kind look in his eyes.

And he wore the same simple grey tunic and pants, but the shovel had been removed. In its place Calder's hand held a battered Gore-coated longsword with a single piece of blue fabric trailing off of it. His grey tunic was now speckled with blood and bits of consecration paint. Calder shook his head to clear the swirling emotions the depiction of himself caused. It would change again anyway in just a moment. Calder opened his classes he needed to pick, and he needed to pick now.

Time froze for him for a moment as sheer shock threatened to overwhelm him. He had not one but two new classes available; one was of epic rarity. The kind of thing it was a pipe dream to even hope for. That was the kind of rarity that famous warriors forged their destiny from. The other... It was the rarest class type other than legendary. Legendary classes were unfathomably powerful, often granting skills and talents that seemed utterly unfair.

The only people Calder even knew of that openly had legendary classes were the Leviathan Hunter Caldritch and the fucking time wizard that had lorded over nearly a third of a continent for hundreds of years. A legendary class guaranteed power if you survived long enough to level it up. But this wasn't that… It was unique. Uniques were something special, something risky. They tended to break the normal rules of one talent and two skills when gaining a class.

Or they simply broke the rules in other ways, offering an otherwise unavailable path for progression. One of the king's court wizards had a unique class, and no one but him even knew exactly what it truly did. What he did with it had calmed the seas along the entirety of the kingdom for a decade now, though. And in the one naval battle the Kalderans tried against the kingdom of Hrothtide, he had simply ended the battle before it started.

An enemy fleet dispatched to attack the capital had been spotted a few years ago now. It was a famous story about how they sent him out to the coastline alone, and he stayed there for a day and a night, hands drawn into the water, mana spilling from him into the sea itself. The fleet never arrived for the attack, was never even seen again, hells there were never even shipwrecks found. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Epic, or unique an almost guarantee of power few could match versus a shot at greatness that none could. [Immortal Tomb Warden] (Epic) Your will is unyielding, your honor without question. You will guard the holy places of your people with an unimpeachable mastery of body and will. Undeath shall flee before your very presence, and the blows you rain down on your foes will shake wills.

Though they will try, none shall ever truly slay you until your task is done and your people safe; though you may fall, it will not be until that day's battle is done. That frankly sounds like the stuff of legends. A class that gains boons when defending others and places of importance. Clearly stated that you will be a monster in melee combat and have the ability to repel the undead. That would probably apply to the twisted Kalderan soul constructs and enslaved spirits they use as weapons.

The last bits alone sound more powerful than any class I have heard of before; my very strikes would cast fear into the hearts of those I fought… Calder chuckled darkly to himself. I'm afraid they already do that. And the bit about immortality at the end—I won't even pretend I understand what that would mean in practice. The final class hung like an arbiter of uncertainty, promising the possibility of progress or the beginning of the end.

[Remnant Soul Knight](Unique) You will guide and guard those who have passed yet not passed on. You will help the souls of the departed pass on to their final rest and use the moment of their passing to reach beyond the veil and taste but a touch of the beyond's power. With blade and strength, you will fight aided by those you have helped and bolstered with powers beyond measure. Wield the tranquility from beyond the veil, shape it into a weapon of righteous purpose.

This would let me help the souls trapped on this plane, unable to move on. I don't know what the powers beyond the veil are, but it sounds potent, and if I can gain power while helping those who need it… Hells, if I'm reading that right, it might even let me fight alongside Dectus and be strengthened somehow. I wish this was more of a debate but, a unique class that will almost certainly let me keep learning from Dectus and help the lost souls I come across. Versus an undying undead dueling fighter…

Unfortunately I feel as though I will be fighting plenty of living in the coming years. Calder took a long, slow breath and mentally selected his future. [Remnant Soul Knight] (Unique) [Your Path Cannot Be Changed] This Class prevents The Personal Welding Of Mana In Any Form. Wielding The Beyond Is No Simple Task. This Class Forever Risks Drawing The Attention Of Hungering Things.

[Confirm Path] [Cast It Back] Calder faltered for a moment; mana was ubiquitous to skills, so he didn't understand what he would be getting in its place. And as for the Hungering things… they were already encroaching on his home on the backs of his foes. He grunted and punched accept. Here goes everything. The world around him seized for a moment; a concussive force passed through the walls of the mausoleum and his body and rippled through his soul itself.

The storm outside went silent, and the only sound other than his breathing was the tinkling of shattering ice across the walls of the mausoleum like breaking glass. The stillness continued, the air growing impossibly still. The maiden on his core statue became somehow more real, more tangible than before. Calder could feel… something on the edges of his perception almost calling out to him, whispering that it could reveal the secrets of the world to him.

[Mana Purged From Sanctuary] [Stillness Of The Beyond Has Taken Its Place] Talent Granted [Tranquility Shaping] Wield the energies of the domain beyond life, beyond the warmth of the gods, and learn to shape them to your will. Calder stared at the notice for a moment. Mana-shaping talents were very well known; every magic-centric class had at least one. They let you shape raw mana into spells. Or more often take something like a firebolt skill and transform it into something greater.

But what in the seven hells beyond is tranquility? The domain beyond life? Is it talking about where souls go when you die? Would certainly make sense with all the other themes this class has, but… death effects certainly don't seem to be what it means. I think it's something stranger… The world around Calder faded away before he could try and muddle his way through his new talent. [Skill Selection Started] Calder was suddenly on a snowy beach; pines ringed the beach, their roots just caressing the sands.

Waves lapped over a small dock and warehouse attached to it. The end of the beach held a sea cave that was partially submerged just past the dock. Calder looked around in confusion as a single hulking figure crunched across the snow-covered sand. The figure was slightly indistinct; his features were blurred like you were looking through a dirty glass pane. Heavy dark armor ground against itself with each of his heavy steps, and a slightly tattered black and silver tabard was draped over it.

In one hand he held a longsword of impressive size. No, it was almost certainly a greatsword; the man was just big enough to wield it in one hand. The man took a ready stance, sword high, with a small blue cloth trailing from the hilt. Calder suddenly realized who the imposing man was. That's me… or a possible version of me… this is my skill selection. A man in rust-colored chain charged from the nearby woods, bravely sprinting across the sand, spear leveled at the hulking figure.

The hulking figure cracked its neck sharply but didn't budge as the brave warrior tried to charge him down. The spearman leapt from the sand, extending his spear midair for the figure's throat. The hulking man shifted to the side, and the spear shattered across the dark plate of his armor. Then several things happened all at once: a rust-armored man hidden in the snow burst from a nearby dugout and launched himself at the figure.

The figure grunted in annoyance and snatched the spearman by his throat, hauling him off of the ground roughly, and jammed the brutal sword straight through his chainmail, ignoring the charging ambusher. The ambusher swung a spike-tipped hammer for the figure's back. His blow never landed; a spectral knight seeped violently from within the hulking figure's back and slashed mercilessly across the attacker's arms. Sending them spiraling into the pristine snow.

With another deft stab, the specter jammed his blade down past the man's collarbone and stilled him forever before simply merging back into the armored man's form like it was never there. By the gods, that's amazing… would that let me fight alongside Dectus like I was hoping or at least call upon the spirits of other warriors? The frozen beach reset, and the dark armored figure crunched his way up towards the dockside warehouse.

Motion could be heard inside as people slid things against the door and chains were pulled tight. The hulking figure growled quietly and kicked the massive warehouse doors once. His blow rocked the building and made the doors tremble dangerously, but they held. He nodded slightly and made a slow, smooth gesture in the air. Sheer darkness seemed to slowly filter into the air sourcelessly before forming into a doorway. He gestured again, and panicked shouts rose from inside the building.

A half dozen heartbeats later, he stepped through the portal and burst out of its mirror image inside, bisecting the first man who dared try and attack him as he tore forward. That… that's a fucking teleport skill… slow and short-ranged but still an honest-to-gods teleport! This class may be far more powerful than I ever even hoped. The beach reset again, and Calder bunched his fists in anticipation as the hulking figure trudged across the sand once again.