Death Healer

[*Ding!* Congratulations, you can now choose your First Class! Hopefully, you chose a peaceful place to make your choice because it will take some time! You’re about to become unconscious. Take care!]

Panic and disbelief warred within her as she processed the absurdity of the timing. The world around her started to blur, the edges of her vision darkening as her consciousness began to slip away. The last thing she saw was the axe, a dark silhouette against the flickering light, descending towards her.

As darkness engulfed her, Lily’s mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. Anger, fear, frustration, and a sense of betrayal swirled within her – betrayed by the timing, betrayed by the situation, and betrayed by the very System that was supposed to empower her. In these final moments of consciousness, she felt a profound sense of injustice.

Lily’s consciousness suddenly flickered back to life like a dimly lit candle in a vast and shadowy hall. She found herself standing in an immense library, its grandeur almost surreal in its scale. The library stretched endlessly in every direction, rows upon rows of towering bookshelves carved from white marble, each glistening with intricate golden lining. The shelves, laden with countless tomes, seemed to climb into the heavens, disappearing into a soft, glowing haze that illuminated the space with celestial light.

Beneath her feet, the marble floor radiated a pristine whiteness, polished to a mirror–like sheen that reflected the splendor above. Majestic pillars, also of white marble and streaked with veins of gold, rose like titans, supporting the impossibly high ceiling that was adorned with a breathtaking fresco spotted among the glow. The painting depicted a sky filled with golden clouds, amidst which figures of ancient scholars and dragons danced in an eternal celebration of knowledge.

In the heart of this overwhelming magnificence, Lily felt a pang of panic clutch at her heart. The memory of the descending axe and the echoing threats of the statues were still fresh in her mind. She braced herself instinctively, expecting the pain of the wounds to manifest on her body. But as she glanced down at herself, she realized with a start that she was unharmed. Instead of her battle–worn gear, she was dressed in a simple white tunic, its fabric soft and comforting against her skin. She was barefoot, the cool touch of the marble floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the tunic.

Confusion mingled with relief as she wiggled her toes, feeling the smooth stone beneath her feet. The sense of danger began to ebb away, replaced by an awestruck curiosity about her surroundings. Her eyes roamed the majestic library, taking in every detail of its majesty.

Swiftly, cutting through the silent reverence of the place, a familiar voice reached her ears. “What an obnoxious little girl. I hope you’re finally ready for this.”

Lily’s head snapped up, her eyes seeking the source of the voice. There, amidst the sea of books and marble, stood Hadrian. His presence, so familiar yet so out of place in this ethereal setting, brought about a mix of emotions surging through Lily. She couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved or apprehensive at his appearance.

His figure was framed by the rows of books, his expression a blend of his usual gruffness and a hint of something else, perhaps amusement or curiosity. He regarded her with those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her – a gaze that had always unnerved her yet now provided a strange sense of grounding in this surreal setting.

Lily opened her mouth, a flood of questions on the tip of her tongue, but no words came out. Instead, she simply stood there in the heart of the magnificent library, surrounded by the echoes of a thousand stories and the watchful eyes of her enigmatic mentor. The grandeur of the place, coupled with the surreal nature of her arrival and Hadrian’s presence, had rendered her completely speechless.

“The Souls of [Librarians] populate this place,” Hadrian’s voice echoed in the vastness, breaking the surreal silence. “This, Liliana Claudia, is the Akashic Record. I’m here to help you.”

Lily’s eyes widened in disbelief as she beheld the familiar figure of Hadrian standing beside the endless rows of books. Her heart thudded in her chest, a mix of relief and confusion swirling within her.

Lily’s breath hitched. “Hadrian? How... why are you here? Are you...?” The words tumbled out in a rush, her mind struggling to comprehend the scene before her.

“I died,” he stated simply, his voice a steady anchor in the sea of her turmoil.

The word ‘died’ hung heavily in the air, sending a shiver down Lily’s spine. Her eyes, wide with shock, searched Hadrian’s face for some sign of jest. But the solemnity in his gaze told her all she needed to know.

“But...but how? The Necromonarchy?” she stammered, grappling with the reality of his words.

Hadrian’s expression hardened. “They destroyed the defensive lines. I went to the front with your father to help, thinking it would improve the reputation of [Librarians] with the new [Pope]. What you see is the result of my good intentions,” the man said cynically, pointing at his white tunic.

Lily’s mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “And my Dad?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Lucianus can’t be killed by some idiotic [Necromancers],” Hadrian replied with a hint of his usual coarseness. “Your father and mother are alive. Last I heard, the [Pope] was evacuated from the Capital. They stormed it after penetrating our lines.”

Lily felt an enormous weight lift off her at the news about her parents, only for it to be replaced by another as she thought of her friends. “Lumius? Marcus and the others?”

Hadrian’s face turned somber. “Marcus is dead. He and Arcadius fought their [Monarch]. They injured him, but they were both killed. It was… a slaughter.”

Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes, spilling over her cheeks as the reality of her losses sank in. She felt a profound sense of grief, a deep, aching void where the presence of her friends once filled her life. “How do you know my dad is still alive?” she managed to ask through her sobs.

“There are things I’m certain of, but I can’t reveal the details – it’s bound by my Class’s oath,” Hadrian said, his voice tinged with regret.

Lily, overcome with emotion, rushed to Hadrian, throwing her arms around him in a desperate embrace. She buried her face into his tunic, her body wracked with sobs. “You’re dead! You’re actually dead! We should have listened to you! We should have gone away!”

Hadrian’s arms wrapped around her in a comforting gesture, his presence both solid and reassuring. “Silly girl, you’ll see me every time you need to choose a class or evolve one. But yes, I am dead, and there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

While his words were meant to be reassuring, they only fueled Lily’s anguish. She clung to him, her mind a tumult of memories and what–ifs. The thought of Hadrian, her mentor and guide, now reduced to a specter in this grand library of souls, was too much to bear.

After a moment, Hadrian took her shoulders gently, holding her at arm’s length. He looked into her eyes, his gaze steady and resolute. “It’s time, Lily. Time for you to embrace your real destiny. This is not Earth. Your talent and your fate... you might have been bound to suffer as a Lost Soul, but you have also discovered powers that elude most. This is where you start if you want to destroy the sad fate that was planned for you.”

Lily wiped her tears and looked up at him. With a deep breath, she steeled herself, nodding slowly. Hadrian was right. It was time to face what lay ahead, to embrace the destiny that had been calling her since she set foot in this new world.

Lily, still grappling with the surreal reality of Hadrian's spectral existence, found solace in his familiar stern gaze.

“There’s something I have to tell you, Hadrian,” she said, remembering her circumstances right before coming here.

...

As they stood amidst the ethereal expanse, Hadrian's brow furrowed, a sign that he was about to impart something of significance. “Lily, about those statues you encountered,” he began, his voice resonating with a depth that seemed to echo off the marble walls. “Even in death, the depth of the Alchemists' secrets eludes me. But if you're here with me now, it means you're still alive.”

The gravity of his words hung in the air, a testament to the mysterious forces at play in Lily's journey. “And now,” Hadrian continued, shifting the focus to the matter at hand, “it’s time to choose your class. This,” he gestured to a book materializing from within himself, “is the Akashic Record. Well, to be precise, this is your Akashic Record.”

The book shimmered with a golden hue, its pages seemingly infinite, where each leaf was a doorway to untold possibilities. “This tome contains thousands of classes you unlocked during your lives – both of them. There’s even [Biology Teacher] and [Crazed Arena Spectator] among them,” Hadrian explained, his tone taking on some humor. “But the Record itself has selected three major recommendations for you, based on your life's experiences, both in this world and your previous one.”

Lily, her curiosity piqued, watched as the pages fluttered open, revealing texts and symbols that danced before her eyes. It was a convergence of her past and present, a unique intersection of two vastly different lives.

Hadrian's demeanor darkened slightly as he broached a sensitive topic. “One of the classes offered to you is ‘Disciple of Lucas,’” he said, his voice tinged with a solemnity that made Lily stiff. “It offers extraordinary perks, but—”

Lily cut him off, her expression one of revulsion. “I don’t want to hear about it,” she said firmly, her disgust palpable. “Tell me about the recommended classes.”

Hadrian nodded, respecting her choice. “Very well,” he acquiesced. He turned the pages of the Record, the golden light casting a warm glow on their faces. “The recommendations are where the true magic lies. These classes are reflections of your journey, mirrors of your soul’s experiences and struggles.”

Hadrian motioned for Lily to come closer to the floating golden book, whose pages fluttered softly. She approached with a mix of awe and hesitation.

“This book is all you need,” Hadrian explained, noticing her hesitation. “I’m merely its vessel. [Librarians], as I explained in the past, are mere guides. We’re not allowed to reveal our Class to those who don’t know already. But you have witnessed more than most about our secrets. The Akashic Record doesn’t compel me to hide my Class from you since you already know.”

As Lily leaned in to observe the book, her attention was momentarily diverted.

“I’m taking this home!” A young boy, clearly her age, shouted as he ran past them. He was wearing the same white tunic and was also barefoot. He clutched a stack of books in his arms and was pursued by his own spectral [Librarian], a scene both comical and surreal.

The boy, amidst his flight, caught Lily’s eye and flashed her a mischievous wink, a momentary connection that seemed to exist outside the boundaries of time and space.

Before vanishing into the labyrinth of bookshelves, he shouted, “I’ll be the greatest [Thief] ever! Name’s John, blonde girl! Hey, old man, take those bloody hands off me! I’m not done! There are more bloody books to steal!”

As he disappeared, Lily hesitated before shouting back.

“My name’s Lily!”

She turned to Hadrian with an embarrassed expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what to say. Was he... real?” she asked, her voice painted with curiosity.

Hadrian nodded with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Indeed, he was. It’s rare, but people sometimes meet here in the Akashic Record. When they do, it’s often considered a sign – an intertwining of fates. The library is vast; encounters like this one are not mere coincidences.”

Lily’s brows furrowed as she pondered the significance of the brief encounter. The idea that paths could cross in such a mystical realm, only to potentially intertwine later in the physical world, was intriguing.

“Isn’t there a concern about him stealing those books?” Lily inquired, watching the direction in which the boy had disappeared.

Hadrian chuckled softly. “The books of the Akashic Record are bound to this place. They cannot leave, much like the knowledge they contain or us, Souls. When that boy returns to his reality, those books will simply remain here.”

Lily’s lips curled into a smile, a sense of amusement mingling with the awe she felt in this sacred space.

Refocusing her attention on the golden book before her, Lily felt a surge of anticipation.

“Here, the first option,” Hadrian said, turning to a new page and indicating a radiant illustration of a woman in a robe, her hands uplifted to the heavens. The image shimmered on the golden page, a symbol of purity and grace. “This is the [Radiant Healer] class. It’s imbued with the power of Light Magic, offering a remarkable fourteen Pre–Selected Attributes per level and five Free Attributes.”

Lily’s eyes widened in surprise. Such generosity in attribute distribution was rare, surpassing the usual allotment she knew other classes provided. The prospect was enticing, yet she sensed a caveat lurking beneath the surface.

Hadrian continued, his voice tinted with a slight caution. “However, given your current... predicament with Light Magic, this path might not be the wisest to tread. Though it’s powerfully tied to your essence, it’s also the least connected to your current reality.”

Lily pondered, her gaze fixed on the golden image. This was clearly connected to the first part of her life – her life up until she performed the ritual on Elysium.

Noticing her contemplation, Hadrian elaborated on the class’s potential. “The abilities it grants are interesting. [Radiant Heal], the first skill of three, for instance, would automatically evolve from your [Minor Healing], acquiring a significant radius of effect that can be adjusted to your needs. A skill of this caliber...” He paused, his gaze meeting hers, “even Lucianus didn’t possess such power at your age.”

The revelation stirred a mix of admiration and doubt within Lily. To walk a path so steeped in Light Magic but also barred from its full embrace due to her unique circumstances presented a paradox to her.

“It’s just my past,” Lily said as her fingers brushed against the page, feeling the thrum of potential energy beneath her touch. The [Radiant Healer] class, a beacon of healing and hope, seemed to call out to her. Yet, the shadows of her current limitations loomed large, casting a cloud over the radiant promise.

Heavy silence stretched between them. The library, with its endless rows of knowledge and the soft golden light that bathed everything in a hallowed glow, stood witness to the crossroads at which Lily now stood.

“Choosing a class is more than picking a set of skills,” Hadrian’s voice broke the silence. “It’s about aligning with a part of yourself, with a path that resonates with your soul. This choice,” he gestured to the [Radiant Healer], “while powerful, would not be functional. It’s not guaranteed at all that it would restore your Light Magic. In fact, considering the mysterious nature of your problem, I’m almost certain you wouldn’t be able to use even one of its skills. However, I’m still compelled by the Akashic Record to explain to you the remaining two skills. I hope you don’t mind, girl.”

Lily nodded, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Hadrian’s spectral form hovered near the golden tome, his expression solemn as he presented the second skill to Lily. The light from the book cast a warm glow on their faces, intensifying the gravity of the moment.

“The second Skill,” Hadrian began, his voice resonant in the expanse of the Akashic Record, “is [Dawn]. A unique healing skill.”

Lily leaned in, her curiosity piqued as the page shimmered, revealing an illustration of a serene figure surrounded by a soft, radiant light.

“[Dawn] is a powerful, targeted heal,” Hadrian explained, his eyes meeting Lily’s. “Unlike any ordinary healing spell, [Dawn] has a preemptive nature. It’s a safeguard, a promise of recovery even before injury strikes. In simpler terms, if you keep casting it on someone, it will start healing the instant they receive damage.”

Lily’s eyes widened, absorbing the implications. “So, it means,” she hesitated, “if a warrior under this spell, say, lost their head in battle...”

Hadrian nodded, a trace of grimness in his tone. “Yes, in theory. Although, such an extreme case would require an immense level of skill and class development. But it highlights the potential of [Dawn] – it’s a healer’s boon, especially alongside high–level fighters on dangerous missions.”

The awe in Lily’s expression was tinted with a hint of sadness. She knew deep down that her path lay elsewhere, but the allure of such power was undeniable.

“And the last skill of the [Radiant Healer] class?” Lily asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and resignation.

Hadrian turned the page, revealing a depiction of a protective aura. “It’s called [Radiant Shield], an advanced form of [Light Shield]. Less impressive than the others, perhaps, but it has its merits.”

He paused, his gaze piercing. “All these skills, particularly because they belong to the [Radiant Healer] class, are exceptionally effective against the Undead. And there’s more,” he added, the light from the book reflecting in his eyes. “This class’s magic is doubly potent in daylight.”

Hadrian then turned the page to reveal the second option. The page was bathed in a deep, dark purple, and on it was an image that instantly captured Lily’s attention. It depicted a figure shrouded in black, standing amidst a horde of menacing creatures.

“This is the second option, [Grim Vanguard],” Hadrian began, his voice echoing softly in the grand library. “It’s something you could actually use.”

Lily leaned in closer, her eyes tracing the outline of the woman in the rectangular illustration. She was surrounded by monsters, standing defiant and unyielding. A sense of recognition washed over Lily as she realized that this class must have been unlocked by her harrowing encounter with the rats in the sewers of the Capital.

“The [Grim Vanguard] comes with twelve Pre–Selected Attributes and seven Free Attributes,” Hadrian continued, observing Lily’s reaction. “It’s an anomaly, indicative of classes that require the user to forge their own path, undefined by rigid constraints.”

Lily listened intently, her mind racing with possibilities. Hadrian’s words resonated with her, bringing forth memories of their discussions and training sessions. He had always tailored her training to mould her into something beyond the ordinary, something unique.

“This class, I believe, is a result of combining your [Wraithform] with your remarkable resilience,” Hadrian speculated, his eyes reflecting the purple glow of the page. “I had envisioned a class like this for you, considering the direction your training was taking. You might say, girl, that I was successful.”

“Thank you,” Lily nodded, without an ounce of sarcasm in her, knowing that one of the few people who had cared for her in life was now dead.

“A [Juggernaut] class would have been more likely without the [Necrotic Restoration],” Hadrian coughed, regaining his composure. “But I felt such classes wouldn’t have truly suited you.”

Lily couldn’t help but agree. The idea of being a [Juggernaut], while powerful, didn’t resonate with her.

“And there are hundreds of variants of the [Duelist] class, too, within this book,” Hadrian added, noticing Lily’s fascination. “Each with its unique blend of skills and attributes.”

Hadrian smiled, pleased to see Lily’s spirits lifted. “The [Grim Vanguard], however, is a class that demands creativity and adaptability. It’s a path less traveled.”

Lily’s eyes returned to the illustration, her mind ablaze with thoughts of what could be. The woman in the image, standing strong amidst the chaos, seemed to embody the very essence of what she aspired to become. It was a class that spoke to her, a calling that resonated with the trials and tribulations she had faced.

“This Class’s first Skill,” Hadrian began, his voice echoing softly, “is [Doom Aura].” He paused, his gaze meeting Lily’s in the same teaching way he used to when they were back at the monastery. “Do you recall what Aura Skills typically do?”

Lily nodded, her eyes locked onto the illustration on the page. “Yes, they are rare skills, usually supportive in nature, affecting multiple allies simultaneously.”

“Half–correct,” Hadrian corrected her gently. “In this case, [Doom Aura] is different. Rather than aiding allies, it targets enemies. It radiates a field of Death Magic, continuously inflicting damage on the living within a significant radius.” He observed Lily’s reaction, her eyes widening with the understanding of the skill’s potential. “Moreover, it synergizes with [Necrotic Restoration], providing continuous healing in battle.”

The strength of such an ability dawned on Lily. In the thick of combat, surrounded by foes, [Doom Aura] would be a formidable weapon, turning her presence into a deadly threat to anyone who dared come near. Not only that, even in the fight with the Wildsnow Wolf, she might have been able to keep on dancing around the monster and use [Necrotic Restoration] until she had completely worn the monster out without even touching it. Thanks to her Sphere of Perception, she might have been able to do that.

But I wouldn’t have leveled [Alchemic Constitution], she mused.

The prospect of wielding such power stirred excitement within her, a feeling that was evident in her eyes.

Hadrian, noticing her enthusiasm, cautioned, “Stay focused, girl. We’re not through yet.” He directed her attention to the second skill detailed on the next page – [Shadowmeld]. “This would be the evolution of your [Wraithform]. But remember, choosing this path means you can never revert to the original form.”

Lily’s excitement tempered into contemplation.

“[Shadowmeld] would allow you to merge with shadows and become one with darkness, offering the ability to emerge and vanish at will. At its core, it’s enhanced mobility. Additionally, at night, it enables short–range teleportation.

“However,” Hadrian added, his tone serious, “you’ll lose [Wraithform]’s intangibility – the ability to dodge physical blows.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But remember, as you progress, the enemies capable of using magic–infused attacks will become more common. Most foes, especially those of higher classes, wield such powers. And [Wraithform] can’t evade those.”

The allure of [Shadowmeld], with its tactical advantages, was undeniable, but the loss of [Wraithform]’s defensive capability was a significant trade–off.

A battle ensued in her mind, weighing the pros and cons. [Doom Aura]’s offensive prowess was a clear advantage, turning her into a walking hazard for her enemies. Yet, [Shadowmeld]’s loss of intangibility posed a risk she couldn’t ignore. The thought of facing adversaries whose attacks she couldn’t simply phase through was daunting. What if [Wraithform]’s Perks could make the skill capable of avoiding magic-infused attacks, too?

She breathed in deeply and then glanced up at Hadrian, seeking guidance in his spectral eyes. “It’s a tough choice,” he admitted, his voice laced with uncertainty. “Both skills offer incredible advantages. However, it all depends on who you want to be. [Grim Vanguard] means fighting hordes of foes. But it’s also a class that demands creativity and adaptability, traits you’ve already shown in abundance.”

Turning the page, Hadrian unveiled the third Skill. The illustration showed a woman shrouded in black standing amidst a swarm of sinister creatures, tendrils of energy emanating from the monsters toward the woman.

“The third skill,” Hadrian began, his voice echoing with a gravitas that filled the massive library, “is the evolution of your [Necrotic Restoration]. It’s called [Death Eater].”

Lily leaned in, captivated.

“[Death Eater] bypasses the traditional confines of [Necrotic Restoration],” Hadrian explained, his eyes locked with hers. “With this, you wouldn’t need to finish mastering the Four Forms of Death. It’s a transformation similar to the one of [Shadowmeld].”

Lily’s eyes widened, absorbing the magnitude of what [Death Eater] could be like. The prospect of surpassing the limits of [Necrotic Restoration], obtaining an ability that offered not just health but stamina, and a reservoir of overhealth was enthralling.

“Imagine a skill that acts as sustenance or rest,” Hadrian continued, his tone painting a picture of a warrior indomitable and unyielding. “In theory, with [Death Eater], you could fight indefinitely. The skill would nourish you, sustain you in ways you can scarcely fathom.”

The limits of [Necrotic Restoration] had always been a concern, a boundary to her abilities in combat. But [Death Eater] shattered those boundaries, offering a path to an untapped reservoir of power.

“But,” Hadrian’s voice took on a note of caution, “in accepting [Death Eater], you forfeit what might have been gained from fully mastering the Four Forms of Death.”

Lily’s expression shifted, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. “What would I be giving up?” she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Hadrian’s gaze turned introspective. “The Soul Form, the final piece of the Four Forms of Death, remains a mystery even to me. Its potential is unknown. But by choosing [Death Eater], you might be forsaking a power of profound significance completely.”

The gravity of the choice weighed on Lily. The allure of [Death Eater] was undeniable, yet the unknown potential of the Soul Form was a siren’s call, tempting and mysterious.

Hadrian elaborated on the classes’ unique strengths. “The [Grim Vanguard] is designed to be a one–man army. It excels amidst chaos, drawing strength from the presence of multiple foes. In a battlefield soaked with your [Doom Aura], few could stand against you.”

Lily felt a surge of anticipation.

“And what of my [Death Touch]?” she inquired. “Would [Grim Vanguard] influence it?”

Hadrian nodded. “As you level up the class, your Death Magic skills would likely evolve in tandem. The symbiosis between your class skills will only grow stronger.”

The temptation was immense. Lily imagined herself as the [Grim Vanguard], a harbinger of doom to her foes, unyielding and relentless. Yet, the unknown potential of the Soul Form and the finality of her decision loomed over her, a shadow amidst the allure of power.

Hadrian turned the page, and the opulent golden and dark hues of the previous classes gave way to the stark simplicity of plain paper. There, illustrated with unassuming clarity, was the image of a woman. Her gaze, piercing and direct, held an intensity that seemed to transcend the page itself. In her eyes, four distinct colors swirled together – white, black, yellow, and red – a kaleidoscope of depth and mystery.

“This is... well, read it for yourself. I can’t believe this Class resurfaced.”

Below the image of the woman, in unadorned script, read the class name.

[Alchemist]