CHAPTER NINE

Shopping for a Class

“Oooh. Charcoal grilled meat skewers. Can we get those as well, dearest?” The growth on Dawn’s arm cackled as she pointed at the various food stalls.

“Haven’t you had enough? I’ve already bought you lunch, dessert and some souvenir chocolates. We’re going to keep Pale waiting.” Dawn cried. It had only been an hour, but the remaining coin in her purse was all but extinguished. Despite promising herself to keep money out of picture, she eventually caved under Roari’s incessant whining.

Despite everything that happened, she solemnly wished that Pale was still with him. Sure he seemed a bit aloof, but perhaps he could reign in his sister’s shamelessness, if only a bit. Unfortunately, when they passed the Magician’s Tower, a decrepit old crone had beckoned him towards her. Like any good little boy, he naturally went with the strange old lady. After all, such a scenario would probably lead to a quest right? Thus Pale had to temporarily split from the group.

Of course, that wasn’t before he dumped the responsibility of babysitting Roari onto her completely.

“Darling, you and I both know that we’re nowhere near done.”

“Are you just treating me like your own personal savings account right now?”

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is also mine right?

“We’re going to the Blood Fighter’s Hall right now!”

“Careful dear, your image is breaking.”

“Nnngh.”

Although Dawn was fuming, she still managed to drag Roari off to the Hall for her class change.

Although the fighter’s hall did not contain every single warrior related class, it still offered a wide selection which made it popular among starting players. Having done some work in the hall herself, Dawn was confident that she could steer Roari through the hoops, as class advancement quests in themselves were normally long and arduous.

They trekked to the center of the city where the Fighter’s Hall towered over them. To call it huge would be an injustice as in addition to the main complex, there were dozens of attached buildings, each far more imposing that the last. There were also numerous well-geared NPCs milling about as well. As for the few lost looking newbs in plain clothes, they were the minority as they were swept aside by the sheer buzz of activity.

“There’s so many!” Roari exclaimed. Though she was familiar with the standard RPG classes such as warrior, knight and brawler, there were dozens of classes available, many of which she had never even heard of. Like what the heck was a thaumaturge?

Roari might have been overwhelmed if not for Dawn who steered her through the bustling throng of bodies.

“It is a bit ridiculous,” Dawn agreed. “And this is only a portion of the multitude of classes littered around the world. My only advice is to browse around the halls for a style that you particularly like and choose based on your favorites.”

“Ooh. Do you have any recommendations? Ol’ Wise one?”

Dawn ignored the jibe and paused in thought.

“Well, of the 3000 North American Early Access users, the ones at the top are pretty much all great weapon users. The extra reach and damage is indispensable as the difficulty increases. They particularly shine when fighting larger monsters and behemoths as well. So unless you plan on exclusively fighting humanoids or tanking, then you can’t really go wrong with a larger weapon in melee fighter classes.

Also, if you are unskilled or poor at fighting, a large smashy stick certainly serves as an excellent crutch until you can approve.”

“Ha…smashy stick. So why do you have that tiny sword then? If great weapon users are so great?”

Roari pointed at Crandor which was barely a meter in length. It could not even be considered a longsword.

“Well, there is more to this game…world than simply mowing down monsters. There are dungeons to crawl, tournaments to win, among other things. With a great weapon, a person might be uncontested in hunting, but they would end up sacrificing a lot of versatility in the process.”

“How insightful of you. Dawn puffed her chest out in pride at Roari’s compliment. “As expected of a roleplayer.”

She had to try really hard to not bite this playful jerk of a girl.

“That said, there are many hidden classes which can only be obtained by understanding the world and studying the lore. They aren’t particularly hard to find, but they are not openly advertised in the main class pavillions. That said, they don’t hold any particular advantage over regular classes and are not necessarily better.”

“But you still get the halo of being special and important.”

“I suppose.”

Roari hummed as the idea of being unique resonated with her. “That’s fancy and all, but what would happen if I were to choose a job now, only to find a hidden class that I really like later? Wouldn’t I just be shooting myself in the foot?”

“Oh, I would not worry about that. You can swap classes at any time, provided you can complete the related quest. However, unless there is an overlap in usable skills, you lose all proficiencies in addition to a level. It might be a big penalty later on, but at your stage of the game, it might as well be nothing.”

“You make it sound as if you’ve done it before.”

“I have. At level 20, I discovered the process to becoming a paladin, but already settled in on being a pikeman. To change, they made me do a massive quest chain, before forcing me to finish the qualification tests for the priest and shield fighter classes as well. Currently, I am still a shield fighter, but once I make enough contribution to the church, I can begin my paladinship.” Dawn’s nose seemed to grow longer as she recounted the bitter hardships she had suffered up until this point.

“Sounds like a pain, but wait! If you already know where to get hidden classes, then why can’t I pick those from the get-go?”

“Do you want to be a paladin?”

“Not really. I prefer to be the pounder than the poundee.”

“Then you’d be better off picking something else.” Dawn sighed. “Although its not that hard to find a specialized job, it can’t be said to be easy either. If you want it, then go do your own research.”

“Oh.” Roari deflated. Despite lecturing the whole time, Roari’s dejected look did soften Dawn’s heart a little. Roari’s devilish behavior before had disappeared entirely, and now she looked like one of those depressed pandas from the nature channel.

“That’s not to say the classes here aren’t any good!” Dawn said quickly, trying to give Roari confidence. “They are just…less special.”

Roari seemed to deflate even faster as Dawn looked on at horror at what she had just done.

‘Girl, you sure have a way with words.’

Dawn wanted to kick herself in the mouth, but her legs weren’t quite that flexible yet.

“Fine!” Roari suddenly blurted out, sending Dawn jumping up in fright.

“Fine?”

“Fine!” What’s the least picked class then?”

“Why do you want to know that?” Dawn flustered. She could see where Roari was going with this, and it was not in a good direction. “And I couldn’t tell you, there are just so many to choose from.”

“Then which one is the shittiest?”

“The martial artist.” This time, Dawn replied swiftly.

“Then I’ll pick that.” Roari said as she strengthened her resolve.

“What? You can’t be hasty! That’s a class that goes barehanded so their damage output is mediocre. They have no reach and the class is heavily skill based. Of course, there might be some variations that do better, but the purist class itself is at a severe disadvantage against weapons and armored foes. There were even some 5th Dan Karate Master who tried it before getting promptly eaten by a lv 20 bear. Actually do you even have any martial arts or fighting experience?”

“None, whatsoever.”

Roari’s expression was dead serious as they went to find the Brawler’s pavilion. Though there was a bright sign to direct all interested parties, they could have just as easily have found it through the smell.

The entire place seemed excessively masculine with various areas for pugilists, monks and other unarmed fighters. Even the receptionist was a muscular and bald practitioner who was standing at attention in an emptier area. His bright orange Gi was an absolute horror to those who cared about fashion, and reminded Roari of some old asian cartoon.

However, even as they strode up to him, Dawn was still doing her best to dissuade Roari from choosing a martial arts class.

“Why would you want to cripple your own progression then? At least pick something else as a placeholder till you can find something you like. A martial artist isn’t some secretly godlike class where you can blow everything away with one punch.”

“Dawn. You just don’t understand okay?”

Roari sadly touched Dawn’s shoulder. From the looks of it, she was older but was still so innocent, so naive.

“If I can’t be special…at least I can be hipster.”

‘Oh my god. Why do I even care anymore.’ Dawn covered her face. She missed Pale.

“I am Ki-RoH!” The practitioner announced himself. “Of what business are you here for.?”

“I wish to learn how to beat monsters until they die.” Roari resolutely responded.

“Then you have come to the right place.” The practitioner said approvingly as he opened up a side door. “Proceed.”

Dawn was speechless, but she remained silent as they entered the martial artist division. As they passed by numerous studios, they found rows upon rows of practitioners, all engaged in performing their routine.

“MUSCLES!”

“CHANT WITH ME!”

“MUSCLES!”

“HOORAH!”

…Okay, the two of them did not see anything. Nope. Nothing at all.

To their surprise however, at the end of the hall, there was a familiar face.

“Oh hey, it’s the beautiful lady… ladies.”

‘Oh god, it’s him.’ Dawn recognized the blonde haired man from the hidden facility earlier. Suffice to say, she did not get the best first impression of him.

Spicy Dragon who abandoned his conversation with a rather important looking old man jogged on over, but rather than turning to Dawn, he instead approached Roari, evidently happy to see a familiar face.

“Muppet Slayer.” Roari greeted him stiffly. Amazingly enough, he was still wearing that hideous Elmo onesie.

“I thought I told you. Call me Spicy D.”

“I am not calling you that.” Roari coldly rejected, to which Spicy Dragon shrugged.

‘He doesn’t recognize me?’ Dawn wondered, before realizing her face was hidden on their last encounter. Also, she was wearing an entirely new set of armor.

“Anyways, are you here to become a martial artist too?”

“I …suppose.” Roari said, though her enthusiasm for the class was rapidly declining after seeing Spicy Dragon here.

Dawn cocked her head in confusion. The two of them obviously knew one another, but why was Roari being so cold? Dawn alone might have been overbearing when she intruded Azoth, but from their encounter, Spicy Dragon seemed friendly enough.

“Good thing you ran into me then. Apparently if you can answer this old man’s question properly, he’ll give you a hidden class. If you answer wrongly though, he’ll send you on a long ass quest to fetch water to give us time to ‘reconsider our perspective’.”

“Oh, then I suppose we are quite lucky… to have met again.”

“Aren’t you? Now watch me. It’s all about the phrasing.”

Spicy Dragon winked as he brought them over to the old man who looked none too happy at having to deal with him again.

“Have you had a chance to reflect on your thoughts?” The old man asked. His tone was brusk and a tad condescending.

“I have!” Spicy Dragon answered with great energy in his voice. He was clearly confident this time around.

“Very well, then I shall ask you again. Should an unstoppable force meet an immovable obstacle, what would be the outcome.”

Spicy Dragon was smug as he replied. “They surrender.”

“Correct, but why is that?” The old man, who would probably be right at home atop a mountain somewhere rolled his eyes as he looked on with a pained expression.

“Regardless of strength, fortitude, or might, one must never tread upon the path of self-destruction. Should the two forces collide, there is no outcome but mutually assured destruction, thus they would no longer be an unstoppable force or immovable wall. Such reasoning should also be applied to disciples, who in their pursuit for strength should not fall into the temptations of power and understand when it is the proper time to stay their hand.”

It was a textbook answer. Like literally, as Spicy Dragon was reading word for word from his adventurer’s journal. Halfway through, the old man’s eyes seemed to have glazed over, but he did not refute Spicy Dragon’s answer.

“That is acceptable. Now take this pot to the spring atop Mt. Dare. There you will meet a true master, and have a chance to be accepted as a true disciple.”

“Another water carrying quest? Boo. Oh well, it’ll be done. And did you two see? Easy right?” Spicy Dragon leered as he turned back to the two girls. Evidently he was very proud of himself for finding the answer to the question. That was until the old man coughed dryly behind him.

“Oh and one more thing. Strip down and put these on. You are not allowed to remove them until you have completed the task.”

Spicy Dragon paled as he suddenly found a set of heavy metal manacles wrapped around his wrists and legs. There was also a body suit which magically appeared on his body. The metal plates threaded within threatened to pull him down to the ground.

Almost immediately, Spicy Dragon felt himself on the verge of collapse. Realizing that he was in front of two astonishingly beautiful women, he could only grimace as he strained to balance himself upright. Contorting his face into what should’ve been an enigmatic smile, he stiffly bid them farewell.

“I’ll be heading out first.”

And with that, he shuffled slowly on out before finally disappearing behind a set of double doors.

Roari who witnessed the entire spectacle merely snorted as she walked up to the tired looking old man.

“Alright, that was amusing, but was that really necessary?”

The old man looked at her, not bothering to mask the look of disdain on his face. “Yes. All martial artists receive the same treatment. It is to prepare them for the trials to come.”

“Uhuh. And pigs fly. So what’s the real reason?” Roari said sceptically.

“That was the real reason.”

“I don’t think so. If you truly believed that, then you wouldn’t look like some crabby old man who’s going through a divorce while working a job he hates. Also, is a bad riddle really all it takes to get a hidden class nowadays?”

Though the words were directed at the old man, Roari elbowed Dawn pointedly, who seemed mystified at the proceedings.

The old man was speechless as well. What ‘like’? He WAS a crabby old man who hated his job. Surprised by Roari’s brazenness, he inadvertently let a chuckle escape from his lips.

“You’re right. I only did that because he was being an ass. Actually, the entire test is a load of hogwash. If not for the Union of Ten Thousand Martial Artists forcing me to ask a question that everyone cheats to answer, then I would have scrapped the whole process altogether.”

‘Wait a second…’ Dawn stiffened. What was this sudden 180 in attitude? Actually, why did it feel as though she was suddenly being forced into the role of being a spectator?

“Too true. Any place that would let that guy in so easily has got to be a scam.” Roari sniffed, jerking her thumb behind her. Now that Spicy Dragon was gone, she had no qualms about throwing him under the bus.

“Ha! I appreciate your candor child. You are much better than all those stiff sticks who approached me before. Do you know what they generally tell me?” The old man continued, sensing a friend in Roari. “They usually say some variation of wanting to become a martial artist to strengthen the mind and to pursue enlightenment. What a hoot! I might be old, but I’m not senile.”

“You’re right. That is funny! Ahehehehe” Roari’s laugh devolved into a horribly distasteful cackle that sounded somewhat forced, but the crabby, awkward atmosphere dissipated quickly because of it.

Somehow, Dawn felt sorry for Spicy Dragon. He seemed a bit crude, but he seemed to have a pure motive for pursuing martial arts. To see the two of them mock them so, seemed incredibly improper especially when considering the old man was also an NPC in a position of authority.

“True martial artists should seek out fame and glory. Nowadays, too many people have forgotten the origins of our craft, and instead they harp about how everyone should live on as monks. Bah, such fools they are. As if they knew anything about the heroes of old. Martial artists should be thunderous heroes and stoic guardians of the people? Those who think so could all die in the mountains for all I care!” The old man, whose they learned was named Lorel, spat in disdain.

“Here, here. I heard that martial artists took a backseat to other classes, but with such mismanagement, it all makes sense. Naturally we need to change that.”

“We? So you’re a martial artist too now?” Lorel squinted his eyes, amused.

“Why not? Someone has to set the standard.”

“Very funny, but there is already a standard, and it is far beyond your reach. In truth, the past contained plenty of powerful practitioners who would've been on par with the legends of old, but their names are rarely ever recorded. As you know, history only favors the victor and while you might hear tales of one hero per era, the countless other losers become lost to the annals of time. Of course, that is not to say that they’re weak, but in a world where beings with monstrous constitutions reign supreme, us poor martial artists who can only rely on our hands get pushed to the side. It is also because of this that we can't use bullshit overpowered weapons to make up for the gap. The current fighting king himself is just some oversized baby who flails around and soaks everything up with his body. Absolutely no finesse at all..."

“Its a scam!” Roari swiftly replied, even though she had momentarily zoned out.

“Right?” Lorel approved of Roari’s enthusiasm.

“Actually, thats not even the worst part. Because there are barely any stories of heroic martial artists, our reputation went into the dumps. Without stories to push foolish young boys into joining our crew, our capacity to grow more legends was severely retarded. It actually got so bad that we considered just labeling ourselves as Fist-Fighters apart of the warriors division."

“That’s a stupid name!”

“It is!… Girl, I really do appreciate your enthusiasm. You aren’t like the other characters that come by here.”

“Of course.” Roari preened. “And you are quite passionate for an old guy.”

“Well, you are still as undisciplined and infuriating as one might expect from your kind.” Lorel complained, though he didn’t seem to hold any malice in his words. After a brief moment of contemplation, he stood up from his seat.

“Tell you what. It would be too much of a waste to let you join the other disciples. What say you follow me, and I can show you something even better?”

The moment the old man finished speaking, Dawn’s stomach pain began to act up once more.

‘No way’

Dawn felt faint. This couldn’t be a gateway to yet another hidden class right? Ignoring the beginner, Spicy Dragon who had somehow managed to get one instantly, it had taken her weeks of research before finding one for herself. Now that the scenario seemed to be pushing Roari into one as well, how was Dawn supposed to save any face??

Despite feeling as though she got slapped in the face, her interest was still piqued. The two girls followed Lorel to a deserted corridor in the pavilion, and after a quick snap of his heels, a part of the stone floor retracted before their eyes, revealing a small staircase leading to depths unknown.

“This better not be some hidden sex dungeon.” Roari complained as they descended down the stares. Although the path was well lit, the last dark staircase that she had entered was still a fresh and painful memory.

“Do not worry. I am long past the age for such…activities.”

It was oddly cute to see an old man blush, Dawn thought.

They arrived before a sturdy wooden door, and although Lorel quickly unlocked it, the door remained shut.

“Before we go in, answer me this. What is the outcome, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable wall?” The old man grinned cheekily.

He was going to show Roari her folly for teasing an old man. No matter what, he was totally going to roast her after receiving her half-assed answer.

“Tell me where the wall is, and I’ll show you.”

Lorel cackled ruefully. Any plans he had to be a rickety old cunt was washed away with Roari’s audacity.

“You are delusional, but still, that was well said.” He was positively beaming as he ushered them inside.

It was a trophy room.

The moment they entered, their eyes were bedazzled by the sight of copious amounts of treasure, all stacked haphazardly in cramped displays around the room. There were also various mannequins posed heroically and equipped with random unique sets of armor. There was no real organization to the assortment of treasures, no unifying theme. Some pieces of gear were pristine and glistened while others were barely more than rags, barely holding together against the wear of time.

In addition to that, there were many stuffed monsters, standards and all sorts of weapons lazily stuffed into barrels.

“Welcome to my hobby room.” Lorel said. It was obvious that the contents before them was his pride and joy.

“I’ve seen weirder fetishes.” Roari commented dryly, but her eyes were wide as saucers as she dug around the fancy displays.

Dawn, who had somehow tagged along for all of this, openly gawked at all the gear. All of which, she guessed had to be of legendary quality. Whether it was the mystical glows of enchantment to armors crafted of multicolored metals. Even without a solid knowledge base, she could tell that even the worst piece in the collection easily dwarfed everything she owned in value. For so much treasure to be in some musty room instead of a kingdom’s Treasury, had Lorel gone mad?

After seeing the half crazed gleam in the wrinkly old man’s eyes, she decided not to ask any more dumb questions.

Lorel also took it upon himself to be their tour guide, casually showcasing every piece of his collection as they slowly maneuvered through the mess. He first started with a mannequin dressed in torn furs. Although there was nothing special about it, his fondness for the mannequin could not be more evident.

“That there is Kitiara, a panther woman from the Aurs continent. It is said that in times of old, she was hunted by the azure dragon kingdom. Alone, and cornered on a cliff face, she had singlehandedly slain the thousand men sent to pursue her. From each soldier, she took a single dragon scale which depicted their rank and fashioned the famed scale skirt still kept by the Rosmer Royals.”

“Next is Runo. The master blacksmith who acquired all of his materials with nothing more than his bare hands. The helmet he wears was one of his last works. The metal that was used to forge it was violently wrested from the throne of an ancient god.”

“Ivan. Despite being a regular soldier in the forgotten era, it was said that he had never killed another man. The gauntlets he wore were normally covered in over fifty layers of cotton. Despite that, he had a most illustrious career, and there were many victim accounts wishing for Ivan to have just killed them instead.”

As Lorel continued showing off his collection, he became more and more vigorous in his descriptions and was clearly brimming with pride.

“These were heroes.” Dawn whispered. The quality of the gear aside, the history each piece contained within had her panting in anticipation.

“No,” Lorel corrected. “Some were demons, others revolutionaries. Some were only famous within their own tiny corner of the world, yet each and every one of them transcended the limits of their race. These are the rampaging flames of the battlefield, the untold paragons. For such beings, it would be an insult to describe them as common martial artists, thus those at the pinnacle are dubbed another name, the martialists.”

Lorel waved his arms wide, however Roari was not convinced.

“Uhh… That’s very inspiring and all, but their name sounds like you were just too lazy to say martial artist.”

Lorel chuckled, “That could be true. While all martialists are martial artists, the same cannot be said for the reverse. Only those who have the capability of shaking entire battlefields are given such a title. A similar comparison would be the difference between a monster hunter and a slayer. While a monster hunter is a common enough job owned by millions, a slayer can be considered one of the elite who undergo the truly monstrous challenges.”

“Ah, so how does that correlate with you obsessively hoarding all this stuff in this room?” Roari asked suspiciously.

“Why, I dream to bring these figures back into the limelight. There is nothing more sad than watching your legacy fade into nothingness, and in my old age, wealth and power hold less appeal for me. In fact, I plan on pening a museum in the future, but if I were to release the details of my hoard now, wouldn’t I just be begging to be robbed?”

“Yet you showed it to us?”

“Just call it the fancies of an old man. Still, if you had any dubious intentions, you lack the power to acquire these treasures, much less use them. As for my collection, I would also need the martial artist faction to regain the glory days of old, lest other groups try to wrest my treasures away from me. But alas, with our current talent, it might not happen for a long time.”

“Huh, and here I thought that we would be getting something good.” Roari pouted.

“Isn’t the sight of this wonderful collection enough?”

“No.”

“Bah. Kids. Can’t even appreciate history. That said, there is a point to all of this. I plan to introduce you to a good friend of mine later on, and perhaps you’ll gain some sort of benefits.” Lorel said. The old man had a mischievous smile on his face. It was difficult to see through his intentions.

“Rather than some equipment that I can’t even use, why don’t you give me something more substantial…like say, the martialist class.”

‘Akuh!’

Spittle flew as the old man choked and coughed violently. Hasting to wipe the offensive fluid that had stained his collection, he glared at Roari who seemed none too bothered by her impossible request.

“You? Let alone a martialist, you would be hard pressed to even become a martial apprentice. Just from your bearing, I can tell you are an amateur, you your greed is so wide to even be reaching up for the stuff of legends.”

“I’m not hearing a no…” Roari pressed.

Lorel Scoffed. “I don’t even need to. You’re a third grade talent at best. And even if I did have the ability to mold silt and clay into steel, you still wouldn’t be able to reach such heights. To become a martialist, you must be recognized.”

“By?”

“Everybody.”

“The hell does that mean?” Roari stiffened. All this hype and she was going to end up being blue balled.

“Inspiration. It isn’t enough to just be a good fighter, but one must have a sufficient amount of fame as well. At least then, your name would be able to survive the annals of time for a while.”

“So martialists are just martial artists with egos?”

“Precisely.”

“I see…Do go on.” Roari found a seat on an empty stump and cupped her chin.

“Of course, the fame does serve on an additional purpose. To embark on the path of a regular martial artist, one must refine their mind, body and soul. Sure, one could easily temper ones mind and body, but how does one temper the soul? Apart from the qigong in the eastern continents, there is only one way. Through the culmination of karma.

Why is it that when you slay an evil beast or human that you get stronger? It is because their fate naturally intertwines with yours, which helps refine your soul. Those with greater fates will naturally hold a greater amount of fame, thus the two are mutually inclusive. Of course, all of this is material for upper level students so you needn’t dwell on it too much.

That said, most disciples actually learn of martialists once they’ve already made a name for themselves, but nearly all of them have failed the final leap. Even though I make it sound simple, there are a few more steps in the process. So think. To be a martialist is to be one of the few shining stars amongst thousands of thousands of challengers, yet you imply you’re ready for such a challenge?”

Dawn’s head nearly exploded. From the sounds of it, this wasn’t a hidden class, but an advanced one. Although she felt somewhat relieved that such a class wasn’t being offered to Roari, such high level information was quite valuable in its own right.

If one were to sell such information to the dark gamers union, they could probably afford a few drinks.

For Roari, such information was of little import to her. Though she was conflicted, she still nodded her head.

“Old man. Ninety percent of what you just said, was completely lost on me. But! What sort of person would I be If I were to back out from a challenge.”

‘Like your normal self!’

Despite being together for a day, Dawn felt she was getting a good handle on Roari’s personality.

Lorel however could only shake his head as if it could not be helped. “Good then. It always does an old soul good to watch younger people fail. Tell you what, I’ll let you undergo a small test for me, and should you complete it, then MAYBE I’ll consider it. Just remember this, should you embark on this road, you will become a tried and true member of our martial arts hall. Is that acceptable?”

“Bring it.”

“Very well then. Then we can forego the water carrying duties and induct you into the pavilion straight away. For registration purposes, I still require the name that was bestowed upon you by the stars.”

“It’s Roaring Storm.”

“…Truly?”

Seeing Roari nod, Lorel could only snort in amusement. Technically speaking, a person could be named anything, but such cases were incredibly rare. However, two days ago, with the descent of the Elseworlders, such a presumption was flipped upside down as hordes of people with silly titles started appearing on the streets. Some of which had names that made it difficult to keep a straight face.

“At least its better than Spicy Dragon, I suppose.”

Roari puffed out her chest, clearly smug at the compliment.

“Well then. Let’s get introductions out of the way then. I am Lorel, head instructor of the Brawler’s Pavilion.” Lorel’s hand began to glow as he offered it towards Roari. “Here’s to hoping your roars will be heard far and wide.”

“You know. You’re like the second old person to tell me that.” Roari smiled, as she took his hand with her own.

Class Updated

Skill Restrictions Lifted on all Physical Techniques

Roaring Storm Lv 10

HP: 390/390 (+10)

Intern (Martialist Candidate)

MP: 185/185 (+5)

STR:15

DEX:28

VIT:15

INT:5

LUK:7

WIS:7

“Well…what can you do?” Lorel shrugged before handing Roari a dull red gem. “Here is a soul recorder. It will read the state of your soul and act as a marker. To prove yourself, you must slay a being which exceeds 1000 fame and 1000 infamy within a week. If you can do this, then perhaps you can start on this long and lonely path.”

Lorel’s words had barely escaped his lips when a violent outburst came from the faintly present third wheel of the conversation.

“What the hell?”

The two of them looked towards the holy knight in training, whose cheeks were currently burning.

“Can I help you?”

“What kind of test is this? Only monsters above level fifty have that much fame or infamy. Are you trying to send Roari to her death?”

“Your friend is rather rude.” Lorel scoffed before tugging at his beard sagely. “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be considered a test now, would it?”

“Yeah Dawn. Don’t be rude to the old guy.”

Dawn twitched, but firmly shut up.

“Ahem, that said, even if you fail, I would not worry. When you return you can come with me to meet that friend whom I mentioned before. I think you’ll like him.

Apart from that, take this medallion. As you’re temporarily apart of the Brawler’s Pavilion, you are entitled to any entry level technique skill book of your choice. Such skills are usable by anyone, so even if you fail, you can still keep it to aid you in your adventures to come.”

“Wow. Loving the confidence. So in the event that I succeed, can I pick an extra reward? This metal suit looks pretty nice.”

“Hahahaha. No.” The old man’s rebuttal was swift and blunt. “If you ever become someone important, then we can discuss things then.”

“Boo. Well, I guess its goodbye then old man. We’ll come visit soon, so don’t get too lonely.”

“…Thank the nines I never had grandkids.” Lorel murmured, but his eyes were warm as Roari ducked out while giggling with delight.

The two girls scurried back to the entrance, with Dawn still reeling over what had just transpired.

Was it really so easy to get a class advancement quest? Did she really just have to chat up an NPC to get a nice reward? Suddenly, she felt tempted to try.

Before leaving, they made a stop by the skill book dispenser, where Roari selected a rather powerful skill called .

“Oh hey. Pale just PMed me. He’s done and is looking for us.”

“Oh thank god.” Dawn blurted out. She had never been good with kids, and Roari was like a sponge that sucked away all of her energy and excitement. Perhaps, after handing Roari back to Pale, she could finally take a good long rest.

Of course, until that time, the mischievous little girl was not going to let her off.

“Thank god?” Roari repeated slowly while cocking an eyebrow. “Dearest Dawn, you couldn’t be looking forward to seeing my brother that much could you? Or maybe… you don’t like spending time with me?”

“No…” Dawn started before stopping herself. She just wanted someone to get between her and this alien girl, but she didn’t have any good way of phrasing it. “I mean,yes…”

“Its fine if you like him. I can guarantee his looks and he likes the wannabe heroic types too.”

“I don’t like him!”

“Aww, don’t be shy.” Roari coyly teased. “I certainly won’t tell. In fact, you have my full support! I always wanted a big sister.

Despite Roari’s unceasing antics, Dawn could only force out a small grimace. Was this truly what it was like to have a proper younger sibling? Despite wanting to tear her hair out numerous times, Dawn found that she still had fun with Roari. Perhaps it was because her mannerisms were similar to that of a spoiled cat.

However, ever since she met her, Dawn could not help but feel their entire interactions were a bit forced. She rubbed away the prickly gooseflesh that broke across both her arms. She turned to see Roari’s charming and disarming smile, but the chill wouldn’t fade away.

Something was wrong with this. Terribly wrong. But what? She wondered. She could only grimace as she felt herself pulled ever closer to this happy go lucky girl.