Chương 137: Chapter 130 - Evolve Class?

"Are you Chelsea Wixx?" the oldest of the three fully armored knights asked as soon as the room changed around her. Chelsea took in the men waiting beside the teleporter. There was something familiar about their armor. The overlapping scales had the same color and texture as her own equipment. Dragon scale. Her dragon scale. She thought she remembered something about Holy Church or.. Empire… whatever it's called having been the buyer.

"I am. I have a summons from the Council of Cardinals?" she explained.

"We are knights of the Third Battalion," the same knight said.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Erik. I will be your point of contact. Additionally, we are in charge of keeping you safe, as well as keeping our citizens safe from you." That last part made Chelsea pause, but she couldn't exactly argue with the precaution. They didn't know her, and she was arriving in the Holy City covered from head to toe in armor made from a dead greater dragon. She removed her helmet.

"Thank you so much," she said dipping into a brief curtsy. All three men reached for their swords.

"You're a demon?"

"I am," Chelsea said. She held herself still, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"Please don't hold that against me. I was raised in the Wixx family as a Wixx from a young age." She furrowed her brows. Had they thought the wings were decorative? They didn't exactly scream demon.

"What do we do, Commander?" one of the unnamed knights asked.

"Our job," Erik replied. His hand remained near his sword, but he didn't draw it.

"Miss Wixx, may I ask that you please put the helmet back on and keep it on while we're traversing the streets, as well as while we're inside the Crystal Cathedral?"

"Of course. I'm sorry I don't have anything less conspicuous," she replied. Chelsea returned the helmet to her head, hiding her horns once more.

"It's fine," Erik said.

"Sam, take point. Rosco and I will bring up the rear." One of the knights stepped in front of Chelsea while the other two moved behind her.

"Follow me, please," the knight identified as Sam said. Chelsea did as directed. They led her out of the small teleportation building and into the city. The structure stood apart from everything surrounding it. Every other building followed the same orderly style, with pale stone walls, and steep roofs. Everything was uniform. Chelsea felt as though she had stepped into a six-hundred-year-old German city that had somehow remained perfectly preserved. She looked around in open wonder as they walked.

The city was gorgeous. Even the streets appeared to be perfectly white, without dirt collecting between the stones or refuse gathered along the edges. The buildings stood close together, but nothing felt cramped. Every doorway, window box, and hanging sign seemed to have been placed with care. Chelsea activated The Eyes and focused on the knight walking ahead of her. Samuel, the Holy Knight of Adaptation"Miss Wixx," the knight behind her right shoulder said. His voice was deeper than the other two.

"I'm curious where you procured your armor from."

"The same place yours came from," Chelsea said with a giggle.

"I'm the supplier of the dragon scales used to make them." She tapped the side of her helmet where he could see.

"This is actually the head of the greater dragon all the scales came from." Since she was already looking back at him, she used The Eyes again. Rosco, the Holy Knight of Adaptation Both men were Holy Knights of Adaptation. Chelsea wondered if that was the specialty of the entire battalion.

"You don't say," Rosco replied.

"How is it so small?" Chelsea wiggled her fingers beside the helmet.

"Spooky demon magic."

"Rosco," Erik said sternly.

"That's enough."

"Sir," Rosco responded. Chelsea faced forward again. People had begun stopping to watch them pass. She couldn't blame them. A short figure wearing the preserved head of a greater dragon, strange white wings, and a heavy cloak was being escorted through the city by three armored knights. Aside from the unfamiliar architecture, the citizens themselves looked surprisingly ordinary. Too ordinary. They were all human. Chelsea didn't see a single elf, fairy, gnome, dwarf, or mutt anywhere along the street.

There were only humans moving between the shops and watching her from a careful distance. Delicious, delicious… No.

"Stop it," she whispered to herself. Sam continued forward without reacting. A familiar symbol on a sign ahead caught Chelsea's attention. It marked the building as an orphanage. The front door stood open, allowing her a brief look inside as they passed. The children she could see wore clean clothes that appeared relatively new. The interior was orderly and well maintained, with polished floors and intact furniture.

It looked nothing like the orphanages Chelsea had encountered throughout most of the kingdoms where she'd intervened. She was glad the Church maintained such high living standards for the children living here. At the same time, it made the condition of the orphanages beyond the Holy Empire feel even worse. The Church clearly possessed the resources and organization to care for them properly. It had simply chosen not to extend that care very far beyond its own borders. Sam made a hard right at the next corner.

Chelsea followed him around it and had to stop herself from slowing down. The Crystal Cathedral towered over the city ahead of them. The entire structure appeared to have been carved from a single enormous gemstone. Its walls caught the light and carried it through the crystal, giving the towering building a glow that seemed to come from within. High above, smaller crystals floated in the air, though each was still large enough to hold a building of its own.

Thick tethers connected them to the main cathedral and to the ground, but kept them suspended around its upper levels. Chelsea tilted her head back beneath her helmet, trying to take in the entire structure. It was the most incredible building she had ever seen. The knights were leading her directly toward it. To reach the cathedral, the group had to cross a massive white wooden drawbridge spanning the open space before the entrance.

Chelsea followed Sam onto it, listening to the heavy boards beneath their armored steps while the blue crystal walls rose higher with every step. Chelsea noticed something off to the left side of the drawbridge that surprised her. An old woman stood near its entrance, watching the people pass. A faint yellow glow surrounded her body. A god. The old woman looked toward the approaching group, and Chelsea raised one hand to wave excitedly at her.

The goddess cocked her head, clearly confused by the armored woman wearing a dragon's skull who had greeted her so enthusiastically. Blessing of Hilda has been Bestowed. Chelsea nearly stopped walking again. The old woman had seriously given her a blessing? Why? All Chelsea had done was wave. She opened the blessing's description as she continued following Sam across the bridge. Unfortunately, it wasn't very good.

Whenever she leveled up, she would have a five-percent chance of receiving an additional point in Wisdom. Chelsea would go so far as to call it a bad blessing, especially for someone who couldn't level up at all. A title was still a title, though. She assigned the blessing. New title acquired: The Champion of Doorways. Chelsea looked back toward the old woman in confusion, but she was already gone. Goddess of Doorways? That was a strange thing to be the goddess of.

Chelsea switched her active blessing back to Freya's and continued following Sam toward the cathedral. As the small group entered the building, she sent a quick prayer to Hilda, thanking her for the doorway. Chelsea wasn't entirely certain whether Hilda was the goddess of literal doorways, but she decided it was safer to give thanks just in case. The more she thought about it, the more she realized doorways didn't receive nearly enough appreciation.

Everyone used them constantly and took them completely for granted. The knights led her into an elevator that reminded her of the one she had ridden with Charles in Nordrak. How did someone even become the goddess of doorways? Chelsea tried to imagine Hilda's origin while the elevator carried them upward. Nothing she came up with made sense. It seemed far too specific and random for anyone to build an entire divine identity around. The elevator came to a stop while she was still lost in thought.

Sam stepped out first, and Chelsea followed him down another corridor until they reached a strange oval-shaped door. A guard on the other side opened it before they arrived. Chelsea wondered how he had known they were approaching. She also noticed that the guards stationed beyond the door weren't wearing armor made from her dragon scales. Their equipment was polished and well maintained, but far more ordinary than the sets worn by the Third Battalion.

Once Chelsea entered the room, she glanced back and saw that the door contained one-way glass. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Of course. That explained how the guard had seen them coming. Chelsea turned forward again and followed the knights toward an elongated judge's bench at the far end of the chamber. A large crowd had gathered throughout the room, filling the seats and standing along the walls. The chamber itself was enormous.

It had to occupy almost the entire width of the giant crystal. Three seats at the bench were occupied. Two others remained empty, along with a larger chair positioned several feet above the rest. Erik stepped beside Chelsea and held out one hand.

"The summons." Chelsea gave him the paper. He carried it to the bench and handed it to the three men seated there. The first was quite old. The second appeared middle-aged, while the third looked barely into his thirties.

"Ah, yes, the Valkyr girl," the middle-aged man said.

"I understand you're a demon?" His voice carried throughout the chamber, ensuring everyone heard the question. Chelsea curtsied.

"I am, sir. I beg your pardon for my heritage." She removed her helmet. Gasps spread through the room as her horns were revealed. The man studied her for a moment before looking down at the documents in front of him.

"And you're the Valkyr of Havoc. Is that true? The same Valkyr of Havoc witnessed slaughtering tens of thousands of men and eating them? Some while they were still alive?"

"I am, sir. My actions on the battlefield are sanctioned by my patron god, Freya, while in the heat of battle. I suffer from a bloodlust, you see."

"Right," he unconcerned with her explanation.

"I also show that you're an S-class merchant and the supplier of the legendary greater dragon scales we purchased through a private seller?"

"That is correct, sir," she replied.

"Tell me, Miss Wixx." He lowered the piece of paper he had been reading and placed it on the bench.

"Why would an S-class merchant, a demon no less, purchase the buildings of seventy-seven orphanages in four different kingdoms and give them one to two thousand gold each?"

"Actually, I just purchased the seven in Belonjo as well. I also bought fourteen additional buildings to deal with the overcrowding issue." The crowd began murmuring around her. The sound reminded Chelsea of the day she had first been summoned into this world, when an entire room of strangers had stared at her.

"Why?"

"I'm aware of how it looks, but I'm not trying to farm children as a demon. Your former point about me eating men on the battlefield keeps me well-fed and stocked. I'm helping the children because they need the help. The Church is stretched so thin trying to maintain so many orphanages at once. My hope was to lighten the load for the Church. I'm just one woman, but I do what I can where I can." Chelsea finished with a curtsy and held herself still as the murmuring continued behind her.

She had expected suspicion, but she had also expected the truth to matter once she explained herself.

"You misunderstand," the younger cardinal said.

"Your reason isn't what's being called into question. We recently captured someone doing something similar in the Holy City. It's the action itself that's being questioned. This is an act that can be seen as disrespecting and defaming the Church. Without our authority, you're fixing up these buildings. This appears to the average person that the Church can't maintain these buildings." Chelsea stared at him for a moment. They weren't accusing her of hurting the children.

They were angry because helping them made the Church look bad.

"I apologize for overstepping," Chelsea said with another curtsy, this one, deeper and sincere.

"It was never my intention. I only wanted to help the children. I do love them so much." The oldest man threw his head back and began cackling.

"You love them?" he yelled.

"A filthy demon could never love anyone but herself." The insult struck harder than Chelsea expected, but she kept her expression composed. Her hands remained loose at her sides even as anger tightened through her chest.

"I beg to differ, sir," she said.

"I have a family I love very much, as well as someone I'm betrothed to whom I love very much. The children, though they aren't my own, I love them as if they were."

"I've heard enough to give my verdict," the middle-aged man said. He looked toward the older cardinal. The old man nodded without hesitation.

"For me, it's death by combat," the middle-aged man declared.

"I say let her rot in the dungeon for all eternity like the other one," the old man said. Both men turned toward the younger cardinal.

"Let's give her the choice," he said with a smirk. The middle-aged cardinal leaned forward.

"Would you like to live out your days in the dungeon, or would you prefer to try your hand at freedom by taking on the Third Battalion?" Chelsea looked between the three men. None of them appeared troubled by the decision they had just made. The crowd had fallen quiet, waiting to hear which form of punishment she would choose.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Chelsea asked calmly.

"Let me explain what happens when you do this. You'll rain down hell on yourselves from not only the remaining Valkyr, along with the battle goddess Freya, but my mother, Adriane Wixx. Additionally, I'm a princess of Dryscape, meaning you'll immediately be at war with the Demon Empire. Lastly, news will go out that the Church killed the woman who was fixing up orphanages. Do you really think killing me will solve problems or create them?" The three men looked at one another. They nodded.

"Death by combat it is," the middle-aged cardinal said.

"Idiots," Chelsea said loudly.

"Very well. Are we doing it here?" She started mumbling to herself.

"This has Bodarex written all over it. No one is this stupid." She switched immediately to Bodarex's blessing and activated the four titles she had prepared for exactly this sort of situation. Once they were in place, she switched back to Freya's blessing and pulled her helmet over her head. The three cardinals watched her with smug expressions, apparently convinced they had already won.

"Sir," Erik said as he stepped forward.

"If it's all right with the council, I'd like to dispatch her myself. My men don't need this blood on their hands."

"You should more than suffice, Sir Erik," one of the cardinals replied. Erik walked toward the center of the chamber. His posture was controlled, but Chelsea could see the tension in his shoulders.

"Miss Wixx, I assure you I take no pleasure in this," Erik said.

"Now, please draw your weapon." Chelsea shrugged.

"I, uh, didn't know we'd be fighting."

"I won't face an unarmed opponent," he replied.

"What's your weapon of choice? I assure you one of us will have something that should suffice." Chelsea let out a small giggle.

"I like you, Sir Erik. Can I have a dying wish? Make this battle last. I'm a proud Valkyr and would love nothing more than to see what you're truly made of." She caught the black rod hanging from her wrist. The weapon extended instantly into a long spear with a dark, deadly head. Chelsea then took hold of the shield grip secured to her other arm. It expanded across her forearm and locked firmly into place. She unclasped her cloak and pulled it free, releasing her wings from beneath the fabric.

After stowing the cloak away, Chelsea gave her wings several firm flaps to loosen them. The ceiling was high enough to give her some room. She wouldn't be able to fly freely, but she could stay out of reach for a time if she needed to.

"That's an impressive shield and spear," Erik said.

"Hey, yours isn't anything to sneeze at," Chelsea replied.

"I'm ready whenever you are."

"You may begin," one of the other knights declared. Chelsea lowered into position and studied Erik. She knew nothing about him. For all she knew, he could be nearly as skilled as her mother. His stance wasn't sloppy, but there were problems in the placement of his feet and the way he held his weight. He was trained, though whoever had taught him hadn't corrected everything. They began circling each other. Chelsea watched his shoulders, hips, and hands as he moved.

Erik kept his sword ready and matched her pace, never letting her get behind him. She took two quick steps forward and drove her spear toward him with a fast but intentionally weak thrust, testing his defenses rather than trying to injure him. Erik blocked it easily. In response, he stomped one armored foot against the floor. A dozen identical copies of him appeared around Chelsea. She didn't know whether the copies were corporeal or only illusions. She activated Spectral Scythe.

An ethereal blade swept out around her, passing through every Erik surrounding her. All but one vanished. The real Erik remained standing. Chelsea stared at him through her helmet. She had expected him to collapse or at least recoil from the pain. Spectral attacks had hurt Adriane. If Erik could withstand one without reacting, did that mean he was stronger than her mother? That didn't seem right. Maybe he had focused heavily on Constitution and Psyche.

Psyche was the only attribute Chelsea knew of that could protect someone from spectral damage, but combining it with enough Strength to fight like this would make for a strange build. He had to have a skill doing something for him. Erik stomped again. The copies reappeared around her. Chelsea used Spectral Scythe a second time. As the false Eriks vanished, she released her spear and created a javelin in her free hand. She casually tossed it sideways toward the remaining knight.

"Catch." At the same time, she seized the second handle dangling from her wrist and transformed it into an axe. Chelsea stepped in and swung. Erik raised his shield to stop the axe while trying to knock the incoming javelin aside with his sword. The ethereal weapon passed through both the sword and his armor. Erik recoiled as pain tore through him. His posture buckled for only a moment before he forced himself upright. Then something changed. The pain disappeared from his face.

His stance steadied, and the tension left his body almost instantly.

"Holy Knight of Adaptation," Chelsea exclaimed with excitement.

"Your attributes change depending on the circumstances."

"You're very astute. Though, I wish you wouldn't announce it so loudly."

"Sorry," Chelsea said as she switched her weapon back into a spear.

"You're like the perfect training dummy. I… wait, no offense by that. That came out wrong. Sparring partner."

"Miss Wixx, may I remind you this is a fight to the death?"

"I know. Here. You go on the offensive this time. I'm dying to see what sort of style you train with." Erik didn't wait for her to continue. Chelsea drew her spear behind her and raised her shield. He came down with a powerful overhead strike. As Chelsea moved to receive it, Erik pivoted and drove his shield toward her. She slipped out of the way. He immediately followed with a fast sweeping strike. Chelsea caught it on her shield. The exchange showed her several more problems with his form.

"Okay, hold on. Stop, stop, stop." Chelsea dropped both her spear and shield.

"Not holding weapons." She removed her helmet and placed it carefully on the floor beside her. Erik stared at her in open disbelief.

"Miss Wixx, what game are you playing?" he asked, exasperation overtaking his earlier restraint.

"No games." Chelsea squatted in front of him and pointed toward one of his boots.

"This foot right here. When you go for a sweeping strike, pivot it out. You'll get more force going into that strike."

"Uh," Erik said.

"Kill her! Kill her now, Sir Erik!" the middle-aged cardinal shouted. Chelsea looked back toward the bench.

"Will you shut the fuck up? He's going to kill me. But let me at least make him better at swordplay first." She reached down, picked up her helmet, and put it back on. Then she retrieved her shield and locked it onto her arm.

"Here, try again."

"O…kay." Erik repeated the sweeping strike, this time pivoting his foot the way Chelsea had shown him. The impact against her shield was noticeably stronger.

"Good!" Chelsea said.

"The same is true for doing a shield slam."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. Chelsea lowered her voice so only he could hear her.

"Because you're a well-respected knight with a sword. Let's get you looking like it." Erik studied her for a moment.

"The Valkyr truly do live up to their reputation," he replied. Chelsea drew her spear again and settled back into position.

"Okay. You're still on the offensive. I'll let you know if I see anything else to improve on." Erik stepped in with a low strike. Chelsea recognized the feint almost immediately. It was too obvious for someone with his level of experience, but then she caught the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Chelsea flapped backward just as his sword seemed to jump a full foot higher without passing through the space between. It had to be an ability, and it was a good one.

"How?" he asked.

"A girl can't reveal all of her secrets." Erik charged. His sword began cutting through the air in what initially looked like a series of wild slashes. Chelsea quickly realized there was a repeating pattern to them. Each swing flowed into the next, creating a sequence meant to force her into a predictable response. Chelsea laughed, caught up in the excitement of trying to understand it. She formed a spectral javelin and casually threw it into the pattern.

The moment it left her hand, she grabbed the second handle of her weapon and exchanged the spear for the axe. Chelsea swung toward the point where Erik's sword should've appeared next. Nothing struck the axe. The blade came from somewhere else entirely and nearly cleaved her in two. Chelsea twisted into a quick sidestep as the sword passed within inches of her armor. The entire sequence had been an illusion. Erik hadn't actually swung his weapon until the final attack.

She laughed and reached out to pat him on the shoulder before he could recover.

"Cool trick!" Erik jumped back and brought his sword up between them. His breathing had grown heavier, and sweat had begun gathering along the edges of his helmet.

"You're toying with me," he said.

"It may seem that way, but this is actually my fighting style. It's built to throw you off." Chelsea adjusted her grip on the axe.

"Though, I've seen a few times when I could've ended the fight."

"That's enough!" the middle-aged cardinal yelled.

"I order all three of you to attack and kill her." Sam and Rosco hesitated before reluctantly drawing their swords. Chelsea's excitement disappeared. She knew she could fight Erik alone without killing him. Three knights were different. If the other two were anywhere near his skill level, she couldn't afford to hold back. She would have to fight seriously, and fighting seriously would probably end with all three of them dead.

"Wait," Chelsea said.

"Is there anything I can do to convince you three not to? I really don't want to do this."

"Miss Wixx," Sam said, "we don't want to either. We absolutely love what you're doing for the kids. But we can't go against orders." Tears gathered in Chelsea's eyes before she could stop them. Her grip loosened around the axe as the first sob caught in her chest.

"But I don't want to kill you," she said.

"Please don't make me." Rosco and Sam both hesitated. Erik stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, Miss Wixx. Do whatever you feel you must to stay alive in this world." Chelsea looked through the opening of his helmet. His eyes were kind. She turned toward Sam. His expression didn't hold the same kindness, but there was something else there. Fear, perhaps. Not only fear of her, but fear of what would happen if he refused the order. Chelsea dropped her shield. The axe hung from her wrist. She drew in a deep breath and focused on the prompt that had been waiting in The Eyes. Evolve class? Y/N"Yes."

Brilliant white light burst from her body. It spread through the chamber and illuminated every wall of the enormous crystal room. The three knights stared at her in horror. Their swords slipped from their hands, striking the floor as all three dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. Class evolved to: The Holy Empress of the Forgotten Children. Call for Aid acquired. Commune with a God acquired. Budding Domain acquired. Minor God Banishment acquired. Impose Will acquired. Blessed Travel acquired.

Detect Unloved acquired. New title acquired: The Holy Empress of the Forgotten Children. New title acquired: The Mother to the Motherless. Access to The Holy Empire Imperial Interface obtained. Chelsea stared at the notifications as they appeared one after another. Across the chamber, shock passed through the crowd. One person dropped to their knees, then another. Within moments, everyone had lowered themselves to the floor and prostrated themselves toward her.

"Well, shit," Chelsea whispered. Then she noticed something else. Her feet were no longer touching the ground. Chelsea looked down at the space beneath her boots. She was hovering. Her gaze moved toward the cardinals. All three men had risen from their seats, but instead of calling for her death again, they had bowed at the waist in near-perfect ninety-degree angles.