“Class Superiority:

Internal definition: when multi-classing, a similar but superior Class may devour an inferior one. A superior Class may also emerge during levelling due to meeting certain requirements, causing a Class Change. These phenomena are distinctly different from the processes of Class Consolidation and Class Rank Up.

External definition: when facing an opponent with a similar but superior Class, there may be a suppression effect e.g. a [Swordsman] facing a [Trueblade] will find their blade duller and Skills less responsive.”

-Starter Manual

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Snowflake woke in the dark, gasping for breath. Sweat soaked his sheets. His chest felt like it was being pressed through his spine. He fought to breathe, pouring chemical energy into his muscles to strengthen them against the crushing weight pushing down on him.

The culprit purred at him from her perch on his chest and met his accusatory glare with slow, loving blinks. She lay with her paws crossed in a way that always made Snowflake think of a princess. Her long, feathered tail tickled his face with the type of deliberately annoying affection that only came from loved ones.

“Go back to sleep,” he said, through the hazy fog of sleepiness, despite being forced to rely on chemical energy to fuel his respiratory system.

Nevasca yawned in reply, showing off her large incisors. It was the day before the Guild assessment and she had grown from the small kitten that emerged from that egg into a large, feathered feline whose shoulders reached his mid-thigh with ease. With each passing day, Snowflake felt the shadows of doubt and regret etched into his subconscious by that petty fairy drift further away.

Sure, she was a ‘mutant and an off cast.’ No, Snowflake could not find any reference to any creature like her anywhere. Yes, he still sometimes worried what she would grow into, but at the end of the day, he loved her with all his heart. Most days, at least.

“It’s not even morning!” Snowflake tried to heave Nevasca off of him, but she refused to budge. He added this situation to his mental list of downsides to a physically strong Soulbound companion.

“Mrowr.”

“You are perfectly capable of going outside by yourself.”

“Mrooooowr.”

“Go hunt!”

She laid her head on her paws, downcast, looking at him with the pitiful eyes of a lost kitten. Her tail even stopped its playful teasing. Snowflake felt like a true monster, in a way that his Core could never make him feel.

“Fine. I’ll go with you, but you still have to hunt your own breakfast. I’m already in too much debt to afford your eating habits.”

***

Half an hour later, Snowflake stood outside the city walls, taking in the sunrise as it burned off the lingering mists and morning dew. In the distance, Nevasca bounded through a field of long grass, chasing her breakfast. Snowflake’s own breakfast consisted of a hot steamed bun, curtesy of an enterprising [Street Vendor], already awake and preparing for the day at this ungodly hour.

Tired of standing, Snowflake sat with his back against a small fruit tree and basked in the moment. For the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. His warm belly coupled with the view, chirping of birds, and is very first magical beast romping about, lulled him into a headspace free of his old world, Magic, Classes, and the hard choices he had before him. For the briefest of moments, Snowflake was well and truly content. Unfortunately, it did not last long.

With his eyes closed and face warmed by the sun, Snowflake felt himself drifting off. Not to true sleep, but to his Soulspace. There, the hard choices in his life laid themselves out in a neat and orderly line, the Class options he had unlocked so far. They did not come with helpful descriptions, but he was able to extrapolate the general directions of the Classes from their names and how they felt.

Snowflake’s Soulspace was changing. It was a little different each time he slipped into it. [Adaptability] hung in the distance, more sun than star now. His Core spun around it in great loops, with Nevasca’s shadow of a Core hanging around his like a moon. Whereas his Core felt of blood and change, hers felt of wind and the hunt. Despite this, they both felt… empty in a way, even bound together as they were.

As great nebulas of Source spiraled in the distance, Snowflake pondered the Classes he had earned so far. He suspected that once he chose one, it would fill that emptiness.

[Trainee] was something he had no interest in despite how it felt of potential waiting to be unlocked. It was most likely gained from his practice with Honey. He could feel that it was just a small step on the way to something greater, but still. It was not his path. [Athlete] and [Reader] were the same, gained from his daily bouts with the obstacle course and his nightly studies of the Dungeon’s ‘sciences,’ respectfully.

[Riot Controller] was much more intriguing. It felt of blunt force and violence. Something to do with his training with his club and shield, no doubt. The alien feel of the Class was fascinating, but again, it didn’t call to him. There was no magic there. Not real magic.

[Soulbound] tugged at him. It did not pull at the center of his being with strength. Instead it was just persistent enough to make its presence known. He could feel that it was a Class dedicated to deepening the bond between him and Nevasca could have some worth. The magic of the soul was nothing to scoff at. After bonding with Nevasca, he had dove into his Soulspace, hoping for a Class like [Beast Tamer]. He thought that maybe he could find and tame magical creatures, learning to do their magic along the way. He thought he could reverse engineer it the way that Honey reverse engineered Skills. But gambling for a creature given to him by the Dungeon did not count as taming one. So no, there was potential there but it was not a path he wished to follow to the apex.

His last Class was one he felt sorely tempted by. [Body Enhancer] was a general, and by all accounts common, Class. However, it was uniquely suited to him due to [Adaptability]. It did not hold the depths of magic that he craved. No, it felt of movement and power. The thrill of pure movement sung to him from the depths of the Class, promising to strengthen every fiber of his being until he could imprint his will on to reality with the force of his physical presence.

It spoke to him of crushing mountains beneath his feet and plucking stars from the sky, and his inner being reveled at the thought. Over the past weeks he had learned the joy of movement and been taught to revel in his body’s ability. There was a simple, addicting rush when he could wake up every morning and see the progress from the previous day etched into his body. Each time he pushed himself, his body rose to the challenge and rose from defeat even stronger like a phoenix from the ashes.

Or a monster from the edge of death.

There were drawbacks, of course. Angosin made a very solid point when he spoke to Snowflake of choosing a single path to walk to the end. Taking multiple classes could very well be the wrong choice, dooming him to a life of mediocrity and forever pushing his goals from reach. But… but his mind kept returning to Mordai’s thoughts on multi-classing. Maybe he didn’t have to choose just one path forward. Perhaps he could increase his ability to survive with [Body Enhancer] while searching for his perfect Class. The one that he could follow all the way to punching a celestial in the face; a Class that could give him the power to reclaim both his magic and his Magic.

He conjured a flame into his Soulspace. It flickered into existence, burning bright despite consisting of a dark red flame around a purple core. Ignoring the strange coloring, Snowflake fed the flame with his frustration and indecision. If and when he made a choice, it would be without those pesky emotions clouding his mind.

An incessant tugging pulled him from his Soulspace. He woke to Nevasca pawing at him, her razor sharp claws thankfully sheathed. Seeing him awake, she pushed the corpse of an antlered rabbit toward him.

“Aww,” he murmured with a smile, reaching out to ruffle the crest of fur and feathers on her head. “Thank you, but why don’t you keep it for a snack? It’s our last day of training today and I want to get as much out of it as I can. So, no long break for lunch today, okay?”

Nevasca purred, her eyes curving into content half-moons.

***

Distracted by his adorable companion, Snowflake was late to the training grounds. He arrived to the sound of raised voices and battle stances, impending violence thick in the air.

“You bitch! Robert barely touched him. Beat him no worse than you do every day.” Dave was at the training ground, flanked by Robert and several unknowns. With each word, Dave seemed to swell in size. His muscles bulged beyond natural limits and his skin was tinted red. “Just to send a little message. But you just had to take it too far. Tell me what you did with the body!”

Snowflake felt a tingle go down his spine at the sight. Guilt and shame from his loss flooded into him, but he burned them away in his mind. All that was left was the dark, bitter thing that had dwelled in him since that day. It whispered to him to slip into his Soulspace, take [Body Enhancer] and go show Robert how far he had come. His fingers itched to wrap around Robert’s throat and show him who was truly the helpless one between them.

He pushed those thoughts down as best he could. The flame in his mind licked at their edges, but could not consume those feelings in full. As much as he craved a rematch, he was not ready. Not yet.

“Robert beat who?” Honey said, nonplussed in the face of the [Beserker’s] mounting fury. She stood with one hip cocked and her arms crossed. It did not escape Snowflake’s notice that her hands hung low enough to brush the heavy, in-curving chopping blades at her side.

Mordai stood shoulder to shoulder with Honey, his height and armor casting him in an intimidating light. The dark patterns tattooed into his skin seemed to crawl. To Snowflake, Mordai seemed every inch the demon lord of myth, even if the way he tugged at one horn undercut the look somewhat.

“Let’s be reasonable fellas,” Mordai said. “If you wanna fight, we’re happy to oblige. No need to make wild accusations.”

Snowflake made to join Ra’hel and Bonehammer, who were watching from off to the side. Before he could, Robert’s gaze jerked toward him in an unnatural way. Snowflake wondered if the [Brawler] could feel the malice in his gaze, or if it was just a Skill at work.

“Him,” Robert said, raising his arm to point at Snowflake, a few dozen feet away. It was a slow motion, as if the [Brawler’s] finger weighed far more than it should have. Everyone’s gaze turned to Snowflake as he made his way closer to the dispute. “Nothing more than a few broken bones as a message.”

Snowflake seethed at the casual dismissal of their back alley fight. It had been a life changing encounter for him, changing the very lens he viewed the world through. Even as his anger threatened to overtake him, Snowflake gritted his teeth and fed it to the flame. This situation was tense, rash words and actions would help no one.

“I didn’t tell them,” he said, projecting his voice to be heard. He gave his instructors a tight nod. Honey looked thoughtful, as if measuring something in her head. Mordai’s mouth set into a grim line. The hand he used to tug on his horn dropped to his side.

“Lies,” Dave said, stepping forward. Steam curling from his exposed skin in the cool morning air. Behind him, his small posse of unknowns unsheathed their weapons. Snowflake could see several of them activate Skills, their bodies changing before his eyes. “You killed Raarik in the very same alley that Robert taught your little protégé a lesson. Did you really think the trail would fade before I could find a [Tracker] with the right Skills, Slave?”

“I did no such thing,” Honey said, her hands lowering to rest on the hilts of her blades.

“If I’d known, I woulda delivered a beating of my own to you and yours,” Mordai said, his armor catching and reflecting the sun in an unusual way.

“Why bother when you can send Angosin to do your dirty work? Filthy demon spawn,” Robert said, spitting at Mordai’s feet.

“Enough talk.” Dave laid a comforting hand on Robert’s shoulder. “We’re here to deliver a message, not to talk. One by one, we’re going to rip your trainees from you. I am going to tear down every single thing you’ve built. Then, and only then, will we come to finish the job.”

Proclamation made, Dave, Robert, and their gang of helpers made to leave. Before they could, two overlapping booms rang out. They echoed off the high buildings of the city around them. The noise reminded Snowflake of the concussive force a fireball in his old world would generate.

A cloud of dust rose from where Honey had been standing moments before. She now stood, blades drawn, blocking the exit.

“Did you think,” she said, her voice taking on a growling quality. The blades began to blur in her hands, a hum filling the air. “You could make threats and just walk away? I will end this. Here and now.”

“The Guild holds your leash, Slave.” Dave stepped forward, a heavy axe and great shield making their ways from his back into his hands. “If you attack us, the Guildmaster will use your Core to power his toilet.”

“[Coward] would suit ya much better than [Beserker], Dave.” Mordai chimed in from the other side of the group, who were now standing back to back to keep both instructors in sight. Mordai’s hands were encapsulated in pulsating orbs of white light. “Only a [Coward] would put on a show of force to back a threat then hide behind his momma’s skirts once challenged.”

Snowflake and Nevasca crept closer to the group’s flank. He had managed to retrieve his training club and shield while they postured. A wooden weapon was better than none. He cycled chemical energy through his body and out into the weapons, strengthening the molecular bonds that held everything together and fueling his muscles with the energy they would need for the impending violence. Fully reinforced, he gathered pockets of Source to turn to kinetic energy at a moment’s notice.

Beside him, Nevasca crouched low to the ground, her tail lashing with anticipation. The crest of feathers at the back of her skull that ran down her spine and covered her tail, stood straight up. Snowflake resisted the urge to give her a reassuring pat on the head, knowing he would only slice open his hand on her razor sharp feathers.

Ra’hel and Bonehammer hung back. Snowflake did not know if it was a lack of loyalty, confidence in the capabilities of their instructors, or pure pragmatism. No matter the reason, their choices were their own, as were his.

Without warning, Honey lashed out, pirouetting to land several rapid, whirling strikes. Dave rose his shield to block, but Honey cut it, and him, in to three separate pieces with ease. Snowflake dashed forward to join the fight, but pulled back at the sight of Dave fading into a glimmer of light.

Mist rose into the air, surrounding the combatants. Dave, a surprised look on his face, glimmered back into sight a few feet from where he had been moments before. He was whole, without a single scratch on him. Dark shapes, indistinct except for gleaming teeth and claws pulled themselves from the ground to surround everyone.

One of Dave’s lackeys rushed toward the emerging creatures, only to be beaten back. He nursed a bloodied arm against his chest. After the display, everyone eyed the dark shadows warily.

A loud clap rang out right next to Snowflake, causing him to flinch. He whipped his head toward the source, lashing out on instinct. His club caught on a piece of empty air, eliciting a squeak of pain.

“Ouch! Stop that,” a voice said. The voice was feminine and melodious, and a perfect match for the figure that shimmered into existence moments later. An angel, the most gorgeous creature Snowflake had ever seen, stood before him, scowling. Snowflake recoiled in surprise. Nevasca took the chance to interpose herself between him and the newly appeared threat. The angel’s brilliant emerald eyes flashed at Snowflake as she fluttered her snow white wings. In a voice almost too low to hear, she murmured, “Entrance, ruined.”

The angel flicked her long, golden hair over one shoulder, the loose curls bouncing off her back. She brought her hands together, causing another ringing clap to sound out. All eyes turned toward her.

“I take it this is your doing, Quinn?” Honey said, waving a blade at Dave, whole and alive.

“Posturing is hardly a crime worth death,” the angel, Quinn, said. “I was in the area and I thought it would be best if I helped smooth some ruffled feathers.”

“Stay out of this,” Dave said, hefting his great shield to face Honey.

“I’m here on official Guild business, Daaave,” Quinn said, drawing out Dave’s name with clear contempt. “Honey’s ‘trainees’ as you call them, are Guild assets under Guild protection. If you want a piece of them, you can talk to Angosin about it.”

Dave and Robert both paled at the mention of Angosin’s name. Their henchmen looked to each other, shifting with unease.

“I challenge you to an official Guild sanctioned duel,” Honey said, pointing one of her blades at Dave. She held the heavy piece of steel level, without so much as a tremble. “You and all your little followers together if you wish. I will cut you limb from limb until you earn the Class [Piece of Shit], because that is what you are to me.”

“I call round two.” Mordai characteristic smile was nowhere to be seen, despite the banter he usually adored. He held a long spear of light in one hand, and a shield of the same in his other.

“As if I’d fight a Slave like you on your home turf. Fighting in a ring for someone else’s entertainment is what you do. Not me,” Dave said with a snarl. He pushed past Honey and led his people out of the training ground. The mist and dark figures dispersed and let them through as it became clear they were leaving. Before he left, he turned to Honey and slid a single finger across his throat. “This isn’t over.”

Robert met Snowflake’s gaze as he left. Snowflake saw an intensity there that matched his own. The impartial expression the [Brawler] had worn while crushing Snowflake’s spirit was long gone. Snowflake did not know what happened to the man’s friend, but he knew one thing. Their reckoning would come. It was personal for both of them now.

“Well,” Quinn said, with a bright smile. Her teeth were perfect, like they had been handcrafted from porcelain. “Now that that is over, let’s get down to business.”

“What are you doing here, Quinn?” Honey said, sheathing her unbloodied swords with obvious reluctance.

“As tomorrow’s assessor, I thought I’d come by to see how your little projects are shaping up.” Quinn shimmered and disappeared, reappearing on the other side of Snowflake. She looked over him with blatant curiosity, poking and prodding at him. “Not too shabby, I suppose. Need some better gear though, if you want them to survive.”

She leaned in closer to Snowflake, ignoring Nevasca’s ‘mrow’ of protest from the opposite side of Snowflake’s body. With Quinn’s face inches from his, she murmured a question too quiet for anyone else to hear, “Are you Snowflake?”

Her bright emerald eyes bore deep into his. His heart pounded erratically in his chest; his breath caught in his throat. Despite all odds, he managed to confirm her suspicions with a muttered, “Yes.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, close enough for him to feel the heat of her breath. She smelled like sunshine and berries. “You’re cuter than I thought.”

Her intense gaze turned into a playful wink, and then she was gone. Snowflake scanned the area only to see her chatting with his disgruntled instructors.

“Since you were planning on letting them equip themselves today anyway, I might tag along and help out,” Quinn said to Honey, her head turning slight enough to treat Snowflake with a second wink. It was so fast he thought he might have imagined it.

Cheeks flushed, Snowflake turned away to force himself to feed his flustered emotions to the flame. He was no farm boy with his first crush. This was ridiculous.

His eyes cleared to find Ra’hel staring at him, her head tilted with obvious curiosity. Unsure of her attention, he treated her with a tentative smile, then turned away. Tomorrow was his assessment and today was his chance to prepare. He could not afford distraction, nor could he afford to go into battle with a wooden stick and shield.