Chapter 18.1 – Class Selection, Finally
The once vibrant and bustling city of Lockdarn had been reduced to ruin.
The usually lively night air now carried only the faint crackle of dying embers and the distant murmur of smoldering ruins. The sky above, clear in a black shade of blue, seemed to mourn the city’s fate, its stars hidden behind a veil of smoke and ash.
Scattered fires, the remnants of the fierce battle, flickered weakly among the ruins, casting an eerie glow over the desolation. Here and there, Romani trainee knights and Lockdarn city guards moved with purpose, their silhouettes illuminated briefly as they worked to extinguish the flames. The fires hissed and spat as water doused their embers, the sound a soft whisper against the heavy silence that had settled over Lockdarn like a shroud.
That was the only commotion in this silence.
The totality of Lockdarn had been cleaved in two, its heart torn asunder by the divine sword that had split the city in a single, devastating stroke. Thankfully people had already fled, and the few that remained were not caught in the technique’s face. The once proud structures now lay in ruin, their skeletal remains stretching out under the night sky, trying to reach for something that could never be reclaimed.
Amidst all this devastation, the Baron's mansion was extra ruined. It had been leveled to the ground. It was the epicenter of the battle, after all.
Now, only a silence remained, as Lilian sat beside her grandmother.
“Haah,” Lilian let out a soft breath. The weight of the night’s events pressed down on her shoulders, her heart heavy with the loss and destruction that surrounded them.
Her gaze was drawn upward to the dark sky as if seeking solace in its endless expanse, but the stars offered no comfort. They shimmered, yes, the sword attack had cleared all darkness that clouded the sky, but the stars did not make her smile.
Her eyes drifted downward, settling on the unconscious figure lying beside her. The young human, the Romani boy, this city’s savior.
He was just unconscious. Not dead. Lilian was glad.
Even when the fires burned and the city crumbled, he had stood firm, unleashing a power that had turned the tide of the battle.
It would be a pity if her tribe’s savior, this city's hero, were to die after all that.
He looked so young, perhaps younger than herself. But rather than envy or jealousy, she felt gratefulness. If not for him, everything would have ended tonight. She wondered what kind of entity he was to be able to discharge that amount of power, that mana. It wasn’t very versatile, just looking at the physical change he went through, the cost of that technique was obvious, but it was incredible. It was powerful.
Lilian slowly blinked out of her daze, when her grandmother moved. The divine beast was sitting on her legs, but she slowly rose, head turned toward the gate. Lilian followed her gaze, finding her mother walking toward them. That woman, the ‘Baroness’, walked beside her, and a bunch of other tribesmen did as well. Well, not exactly a bunch of, she only counted seven. The seven that remained alive after this night.
Two among them carried two unconscious bodies, knights in armor. Lilian’s eyes recognized the symbol on their armor, her gaze flickering toward Iskandaar’s chest.
“They’re gone, Mother,” Ralian came to a stop before them and said. “We couldn’t catch up to them, but we did mess up one of their last moves. The 9th child, Jacob, was battling against these two,” she pointed at the two unconscious knights with her chin, focusing a look at the brown-haired knight, “This guy here advanced to the 5th Ascension, during battle, and was giving Jacob a hard time. Munera and Val tried to kill him and save Jacob. We stopped them. Jacob died by the knight’s hand, losing consciousness in the process. They’re not seriously injured, they’ll live.”
“Impressive,” the Matriarch replied, her ethereal voice a bit healthier than before. “So all the Romani people ended up helping us, eh,” she noted. “Reminds me of that man, Sikandar. I suppose blood and fate are intertwined like that.”
“...It seems,” Ralian replied. From the way she said it, Lilian assumed even her mother hadn’t seen the situation that her grandmother spoke of, and only heard stories about it instead. Lilian heard that story many times from her grandma, she always thought it was an exaggerated one, but seeing what this human pulled off today, there might have been some semblance of truth in that.
“In the city’s horse stable, there are a bunch of knights,” Ralian turned to her subordinates and said. “Take these three humans there, they’ll receive treatment.”
She ordered, and the Matriarch didn’t object. However, none of the werewolves moved. The five tribesmen who were empty-handed exchanged glances, nobody brave enough to step forward and carry Iskandaar. When Ralian turned to them with a frown, her eyes locking with a muscular man, he gulped and stepped forward.
“B-but my lady,” he said, “that boy, that demon, what if he harms-”
“Watch your words!” Vargathrian’s head snapped at the man, a deep growl that shattered the silence. Lilian flinched, while the man fell to his knees. “He is our savior. What you saw would remain in your head forever, but never reach your lips. Say that word again, and see what I do to you, you imbecile.”
Vargathrian of the First Apocalypse did not want her savior’s identity to get leaked. The Romani household was prestigious, this boy’s connection to demons mustn’t be spread. She had suspicions when he first showed up with the Demonic Cup, somehow aware of its usage, but her suspicions were confirmed when demonic energy horns popped from his forehead earlier.
He was likely the reincarnation of one of the 72 Demon Kings or their [Avatar].
Her head turned toward Iskandaar’s body, and she slowly opened her mouth. “Never mind, leave him alone. Take the two knights away, they need treatment, the boy is just unconscious. It’s better for him to talk to me first after waking up, rather than some other human.”
****
When I finally woke up, the world greeted me with a soft, golden light. The first rays of the sun filtered through the ruined walls of the city, touching my face with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the pain gnawing at my body. My body hurt like crazy.
My eyelids fluttered open, the brightness making me squint as I adjusted to the new day. I yawned, a reflexive action that felt oddly out of place given the circumstances. I’ve just fought a demigod, and from the looks of it, lived to see the next day.
I was lying on something soft—flowers, I realized. I lay on the portion of the garden that hadn’t been destroyed in the battle. Someone had gone through the trouble of arranging them beneath me, turning a patch of destruction into a makeshift bed.
Slowly, I turned my head to the side, noticing a figure standing nearby. She was slumped against a broken wall, fast asleep. Lilian was clearly exhausted. Must have been keeping watch over me until she couldn’t fight sleep any longer.
I guess she doesn’t need to guard anymore, now that I’m awake. I tried to push myself up. I had to go pee. But the moment I tensed my muscles, a sharp pain shot through my entire body. “Tch,” I grumbled, clenching my teeth against the agony.
It was like every bone, every fiber of muscle was on fire, screaming in protest at the slightest movement. I couldn’t even sit up.
What the hell did I do to myself?
My mind flickered back to that moment—tapping into the power of that damned Skill. The penalty was lifespan, right? Could it be that I aged myself into an old man?
The thought sent a wave of panic through me, and I forced my right hand to move, lifting it just enough to bring it into view.
No wrinkles.
“Haah,” I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t going to look like a geriatric at seventeen. But still, something wasn’t right. I was too weak, too drained. The cost of using that Skill was intense.
With a frustrated grunt, I opened the system window and navigated to the notification panel. I had to check if it told me how many years I’d lost, even if my appearance didn’t change. The familiar text materialized in front of me, cold and unfeeling, as it laid out the damage in black and white.
[You have tapped into the power of a possible future. The power you’ve gained is immense. The cost is severe: 50 years of your lifespan have been lost.]
[The timeline you’ve borrowed power from has been closed for any future use.] [1]
[Additional costs apply. Any Experience Points you earn will be cut off by 90% for the next six months.] [2]
“Fifty years?!” A shout escaped my lips. “That’s fucking… insane.” The words felt like a punch to the gut. Fifty years gone, just like that. How much did I even have left now?
I was 19 years old, how long would I have lived? Till 70? That was the average back in my old world. If 50 years vanished from that, didn’t that mean I only have one year till death?
“....”
The reality of it made my stomach churn. I’d known there would be a price, but this… I didn’t like this. I could drop dead any time, without knowing I was close to death.
I closed my eyes and calmed down. At least we won. At least that much was certain.
I didn’t need anyone to tell me; the System made it clear. The Vampiric Father was dead. I hadn’t dealt the final blow, so he didn’t die from my final sword, but I’d been the one to pave the way. That much was evident from the rest of the system notifications.
[The Vampiric Father has been killed. Although you haven’t landed the last blow, your merit to his death is immense. You've earned great experience points.]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've leveled up!]
[You've reached Level 30!]
[The Heavenly Demon Skill Tree’s proficiency has reached 23.77%. You've been enlightened about three techniques!]
[...You've processed and learned the second move of the True Demon Fist Art.]
[Additional knowledge about ‘fist martial arts’ in general comes with the technique to help you properly perform it. The knowledge is intricate.]
[...You've processed and learned a technique from the True Demon God Art.]
[True Demon God Art: Eclipse of the Shadow Tyrant has been learned.]
[Description: A powerful technique that channels the dark energies of the Demon Realm, allowing the user to manifest the overwhelming presence of a Demon Tyrant. This art envelops an n-meter area (depending on your Qi) around the user in a shroud of impenetrable darkness, obscuring vision and creating an aura of fear that weakens the resolve of all enemies caught within its grasp. The user's physical form merges with the shadows, becoming a terrifying specter that strikes with devastating force.]
[...You've processed and learned the third move of the True Demon Sword Art.]
[Additional knowledge about ‘swordsmanship’ in general comes with this, to help you properly perform it. The knowledge is intricate enough to level up a skill.]
[Swordsmanship (Apprentice) has been upgraded to Swordsmanship (Intermediate).]
I’ve gained nine levels, I’ve gained a Fist Art, Sword Art, and finally, I’ve gained another powerful God Art. Although this time no additional skill came along with it.
I now stood at Level 30. Not bad… if I ignore the countless deaths, and my own that might come at any time. I sighed, staring at the very last message.
[You’ll be stuck at Level 30 until you choose a Class. Please make a decision.]