Although overshadowed at first, many non-fighters proved their skill in critical areas in which their counterparts struggled. Occasionally, one such area was strategy, and history has proven time and time again that a skilled strategist is pivotal in winning hopeless battles.

Stefan Sommer - the Chronicler - Heroes and Villains of the First Age

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Rolf, the spectacled non-fighter, stood in the centre of the hall, sweat rolling down his jowls as if under the sun’s withering glare. Although the System had since recognised his efforts and granted him the class Tactician, he still didn’t feel comfortable amid his fellow classers. While Elise had initially addressed them, she had clammed up after a minute and now they pointed their questioning glances towards him.

At last, Silas strode into the hall, a scowl fixed upon his face. It seemed nothing was to be in their favour today. Taking a few sharp breaths, Rolf checked the citizen’s list again and reviewed the battle plan in his head.

1. Silas Wycliffe - level 33 - Duellist

2. Michael Eze - level 31 - Gladiator

3. Sabine Gantzmann - level 30 - Pugilist

4. Dominic Wood - level 30 - Squire

5. Natalie Svoboda - level 29 - Cryomancer

6. Iris Azer - level 29 - Healer

7. Alice Reid - level 28 - Pyromancer

8. Faris Jabbar - level 27 - Mounted Archer

9. Josh Thompson - level 27 - Antimage Brawler

10. Seung Hoon - level 26 - Slayer

11. Ernst Kiefer - level 26 - Spearman

12. Peng Qi - level 25 - Brawler

13. Elise LeBeau - level 25 - Minister

14. Gerald Wyne - level 24 - Ice Mage

15. Yuri Dmitriev - level 24 - Cleric

…

202. Tessa Flowers - level 17 - Alchemist

…

421. Rolf Ruttering - level 11 - Tactician

…

685. Bianca Cobb - level 2

Although a lot of people had joined Riverside recently, the upper echelon had largely stayed the same other than a few positions being swapped about and the introduction of Seung, a quiet man with a bowl cut, to the top 10. The top classers had all gathered in the hall, alongside a few notable team leaders, and the two cultists, Ish and Krisa.

“Given the distance, the quickest the Order can get here is in six hours.” Although Silas spoke softly, his voice carried through the room and quietened the murmurs. “But the ratkin army will be here in five, maybe four hours. That means we’ll have to hold out for an hour at least.” He nodded at Rolf.

The Tactician felt as if someone had lodged a rock down his throat. “So, w-what w-we’re—” he stammered out, woefully aware of the gazes on him. He wanted to dig himself a hole and hide inside, but he knew that wasn’t possible. Sucking in a deep breath, he focused his mind on the strategy and tried again. “We plan to fight the ratkin in the village, but they’ll be expecting an ambush since we used the same strategy before to great effect.”

Pulling his finger across the map, he almost forgot about the people around him as he imagined the troops on field following his commands, holding their positions as they waited for his signal. “So, to make them drop their guard, we’ll to bait them in. If we have frontline tanks further out in the open, here, supported by archers with enough of them to make it appear we’re making a last stand, the ratkin will certainly go for them. Then, our troops will rout, scattering like actual deserters while deliberately drawing them towards these regions, where the rest of us are waiting. When the ratkin come deep enough, we’ll collapse on them from all sides.”

“What about the mages?” Mike asked, lounging in his seat. Alice had her head resting on his shoulder, and he idly scratched at her nape. Rolf thought Mike was a cocksure cunt, but that wasn’t a view he would ever voice - no, it was ideal if the Gladiator never noticed him. “I heard rumours they’re coming with nasty artillery.”

Nodding, Silas answered calmly, “We’re pretty sure they’ll have a mage or two.”

Mike snorted, his lips curling at their sides. “You sound pretty unconcerned, Mr Duellist. Could it be you have a plan for them?”

“That’s my job,” Krisa called cheerily, waving with wild abandon at Mike, then Silas as if she was an aircraft marshall signalling them in. “Although, I’d like some help from the other mages as well.” Rolf didn’t even want to start on his opinions on her, not while in public. He knew he wasn’t alone in his fantasies either, no, rather in the majority.

“I will aid you,” Natalie said, her voice crisp and her words clipped. She had beautiful, marble-like skin, snow-sculpted features, and a frigid aura. Her icy shell made her unapproachable, and Rolf had gone further than most by exchanging a few words with her when she hung out with Iris and, increasingly, Josh.

Mike pulled at Alice’s hair, and the redhead purred. She looked at him questioningly, and he cocked his head in Krisa’s direction. “Alright, I’ll come,” she said after a second, her eyes narrowing.

Following her example, Gerald, another mage from Mike’s faction, also volunteered.

Some more details were discussed and argued, particularly over who would be leading the groups and such, before the war meeting was shortly concluded. The classers surged out, and Rolf got to rolling up the map, idly wondering how many of these dominant figures would actually survive the battle. After all, when Silas had met him earlier to discuss their plan, he had ordered him to hide from this meeting the true extent of the coming army.

****

Arms resting on the windowsill, Silas watched the horizon, his eyes vacantly glazed over. His thoughts weren’t on the ratkin but rather Riverside itself. The village had fallen into his hands two weeks before, and although he had quickly identified his inadequacy for such a role, others had wanted to keep him in it to oppose another.

In truth, all he could do was fight, and fight he had, but in the hall, with all the major classers gathered, he had realised the village didn’t even need his strength anymore. There were now plenty of powerhouses who could defend Riverside; he was free to go. Tension had bled out of his chest then, and he had exhaled in relief.

But, before that he had one last job to do. Squinting, he spotted hazy figures fluttering in the distance, and he leaned out of the window. “They’re coming!”

Moving back into the room, he waited there in silence. He remained idle as the sounds of combat reached his ears, even as ferocious roars echoed through the room and ghastly shrieks haunted his thoughts, only stirring when he spotted figures with cowls. Their auras were vile, far more disconcerting than anything he had faced before. “That’s them, right?”

Ish appeared out of the thin air, his mask at once unsettling and reassuring. “Yeah. I’m surprised they brought four to deal with your village. Even we’ve only had to deal with six at once.”

Silas grunted and slipped out of the window, climbing onto a nearby rooftop. He moved across bricks and tiles, closer and closer to the hooded figures until he was directly overlooking them. Glancing around, he spotted the mages (Krisa, Natalie, Alice, and Gerald) further on. He nodded at them, then counted down with his fingers. Three, two, one.

He leapt off, plunging through the air. The swishing sound from above warned the ratkin sorcerers, but they reacted too slowly, and his spear sliced through one. He clenched his jaw at the landing, piercing shock waves shooting up his legs, but his body could handle it. The sorcerers immediately recovered from the fright and bounded on him, just in time for Ish to appear and attempt to assassinate another. Although he failed, he managed to distract his target, and another ratman was forced to hastily raise a mana barrier as he faced a barrage from the mages, leaving only one for Silas to deal with.

Before he could act, it cast a spell and its body grew from within its robes. In mere seconds, its robes ripped apart to reveal a misshapen ratman with sparse tufts of hair, scarred, wrinkled skin, and sections of missing flesh. Stepping back in horror, Silas had to harden his heart and soul at the horrific sight as the sorcerer grew still into an abomination near ten-feet tall.

Glancing around, he saw the others were still occupied, leaving him with the ratmonster. One on one, ideal for him. Tightening his grip around the shaft, he advanced, spear striking out like a viper.

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Bijou Louis, the Puppeteer, was originally a seamstress from Haiti. Passing the easy tutorial, she lagged behind her peers on her arrival to Idroa. She joined Port Liberte and kept to low-skill labour jobs to get by until a freak troll attack on the village, where a magma troll ripped her arm off and left her body scorched and scarred. Although she miraculously survived, she was promptly thrown out by her housemates who figured she would shortly succumb to her injuries.

Through an unknown event, possibly an encounter with a powerful classer, the worst of her injuries were healed, and although she remained a limb down, she was no longer in immediate risk of death. After some time on the streets, she eventually reached level 10 and picked Puppeteer as her class. Replacing her missing limb with an automatonic creation, she slowly began to build her strength up. However, this tactic took a drastic shift when she gained her class’s second ability.

While the details are unknown to us, we do know that it allowed her to make marionettes of people, causing her status in Port Liberte to explode as select powerful figures came under her control, retaining their strength and abilities. However, Bijou’s plot to take over Port Liberte was eventually discovered, and she was forced to flee with her marionettes to…

Stefan Sommer - the Chronicler - Heroes and Villains of the First Age