A dazed Eric gazed up into concerned brown eyes, surprised to feel trembling hands upon his cheeks. “Eric? Are you okay, Eric?”

Eric forced a smile as he gazed into the pretty if exhausted features of June. “Can you feel that?”

She blinked, gazing at him curiously. “Feel what?”

Eric’s grin widened as he lurched back to his feet, gently clasping his hand, and gesturing at the massive grove of peach trees rustling their branches in the distance. He took a deep breath, smelling blood, sweat, burnt flesh, and the clean loamy scent of fresh new growth.

The three Sylvan girls had fallen to their knees just beyond the battlement walls, running their fingers through the rich fecund soil Eric could now sense spiritually, visible tears streaming down their cheeks.

Eric smiled at the sight, wiping away the sting in his own eyes, now thinking it a tossup as to whether Ashland would get four more Classers, or Picksonville a trio of elves clearly in tune with their environment.

Of course Eric already knew that no sweet blossoms promising a ripe crop of impossibly valuable peaches would be making an appearance any time in the near future, but he knew it was only a matter of time. “Feel the potential all around us.”

June quirked a smile. “You sure you didn’t get hit in the...” she blinked, shaking her head. “You know what, I do feel something...” she bit her lip. “Warmth, maybe? Like...” she smirked. “Like a weight was just lifted off my shoulders. Like I just had a good cry in my mom’s arms and somehow I just know that, no matter how awful this last year’s been, things are going to get better.”

Eric grinned. “You know what? I think they will.” His gaze then turned solemn. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to, but I know it’s been hard, really hard, for you and the others.”

He winced, June’s smile turning to a wary look, a flinch of raw shame. “Anyway, I just wanted to say, that you all are welcome here. Here in Picksonville, or in Ashland. Both areas now contain a dozen delves blessed with both Adventurer’s Paradise and the Promise of Adventure, and no sacrificial death traps in either.” He forced a grin. “Of course everything’s bare-bones as fuck, right now, but I think in the next year we’re going to have a community, especially in Ashland, that will rival the richest of European tourist towns. It will be a place where everyone is hopefully happy, healthy, well on their way to becoming wealthy, and excited for the future. With shops, restaurants, and comfy little condos or even grand houses complete with full-sized back yards to live in.”

Eric’s cheeks flushed under a full dozen stares from girls who had been hurt too badly to ever believe such a foolish dream could ever become their reality. “That’s my goal, anyway. A sort of sanctuary where people can be safe, happy, maybe start to feel normal again. Even as they dare ever deeper dives into dungeons compelling them to grow stronger, faster, more powerful, cast ever greater spells… until we all break through to Bronze, and beyond, and the entire galactic System is forced to back off, and face the fact that we’re not nearly the pushovers they once thought we were.”

June gazed at him for long moments before lightly punching his shoulder, and wincing. “It’s a sweet dream, Eric. Not a chance in hell it will go down like that, not with only the most desperate of us even daring a class. And we all see how weak our classes are, even compared to the orc spear chuckers.” Her cheeks flushed prettily. “And there’s nothing at all wrong with my Rogue class. But I’m about to go toe-to-toe with an Orc Berserker.”

Eric gazed at the girls for long moments. “It’s the 90% death rate for anyone going into those goblin pods, am I right?”

All the girls solemnly nodded.

The trio of elves bowed their heads. “Had we not already been blessed before we dared to answer Aurelia’s call...”

Eric winked. “Good thing I have my own personal Tier-2 Ascension Facility in Ashland, which allows everyone to safely touch the walls of my futuristic looking pyramid with a full dozen pods within. You can only pass through and enter the pods if you’re System compatible.”

A dumbstruck June gazed up at Eric for long moments. Desperate hands gripped his shoulders. “Fuck, are you serious?”

“I am,” Eric solemnly said. Then he smiled. “Best of all, it will show you all the classes you’re eligible for. Not just the few those bastard goblins allow you to claim. And if you don’t like the options? Just step away. Because it’s my hope to hire trainers and teachers sometime in the near future. Insturctors who will be able to teach every mortal with potential the skills they need to claim the best class they possibly can. That includes the basics of combat, wands, crafting, whatever path they want to follow. Hell, one of these days, assuming I live long enough, maybe I’ll help set up an academy that’s all about helping humanity find the absolute best path forward.”

Eric’s voice sped up with excitement as he continued sharing his dreams for the future. “Whether that’s training up basic skills so we can immediately jump into Warrior or Arcanist or whatever good choices one has at level 1, or actually accepting the Conscript class, if compressing our cores at level 9 would lead to even better classes that will make up for the 9 levels we received substandard points. Then it’s joining one of the future guilds, or otherwise forming alliances of adventurers that can both fight and protect themselves! Of course, we’ll need to establish roles for tanks, damage dealers, and healers… assuming healers are a thing on this world, and then it’s adventuring for endless treasure and glory, or until you want to stop and take a break, craft, maybe raise a family, and do it all in the safest, most high tech and luxurious territory on the planet!”

A suddenly blushing Eric chuckled ruefully under the combined weight of their stares. “Okay, maybe it is just a dream. But it is what I’m hoping for. One day.”

June nodded, as did the elves staring at him so raptly with their jewel-like irises. “It’s a good dream.” June then turned to the other girls. “Let’s rest up. We’re heading to Ashland and meeting up with Lana and the others tomorrow.”

One of the girls snorted. “You just want to meet up with your wife.”

“Damn right I do.”

The other girls exchanged looks, nodded, then gazed Eric’s way. “Will… will you accompany us on the way back?”

Eric flashed an apologetic smile. “No, I’m sorry. I’m kind of on a tight schedule.”

The Sylvan girls’ eyes lit up with fierce hope. “You’re striking our enemies from behind. You’re going to tear through orc territory until they’re forced to take you seriously, taking pressure off Elonia on the front lines!” The tallest elf hissed.

Eric winked, but said nothing else before turning to clasp June’s hand. “Don’t worry. Tusker Company just trampled the last of the reds. And I haven’t seen anything like any wild beasts or monsters nearby either. I’m guessing any large beasties in the area quickly found themselves on orc dinner plates. Should be smooth walking tomorrow, but in case there is trouble out there… by all means, stay here. I wouldn’t be surprised if I myself, or any number of friendlies come by in the next day or two, and I can all but promise that they’ll offer to let you stay and rebuild, be part of a fresh new community, or escort you wherever you want to go.”

June smirked. “Yeah, I think maybe you haven’t seen any Shadow Cats or Crimson Wolves because you’re sort of leading a company of elephant-sized… warthogs.” She paled and lurched away from the snorting steed Eric favored with a scratch as it approached and snuffled his helmed head.

“Fuckin’ hell! That thing’s huge! Bigger than any fucking elephant in the zoo,” one of the girls declared.

Eric winked. “I know. Stinky’s pretty big. And he still has a healthy appetite for an undead behemoth.”

This earned a snort from June, and horrified looks from all three of the Sylvan girls. “Really? What does he eat?”

“Mostly just the bodies I don’t raise from the dead.”

June paled and stepped back.

Eric smirked. “Yeah, you all might want to go inside for the next part.”

A pale-faced June quickly jogged for the doorway, Eric catching sight of, and quickly tuning out the awed whistle of one of the girls.

“Shit, is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

Another girl snorted. “I guess we’ll soon find out.”

“Please, Lord Silver! You must not do it. You must not! It is blasphemy!” Sobbed purple-hair, as Eric now thought of her, gazing at him beseechingly, the girls beside her enthusiastically nodding their agreement.

Eric softened his glare when the flinched before him. “You do know I’m every bit as much human as I am, well…”

“Elf?”

“Exactly. I was born on this planet with native blood in my veins. Which means I have access to heritage classes and abilities that only natives have access to.” Sapphire blue eyes gazed into amethyst orbs until the girl flinched and looked away. “And there’s a reason why the System forbids it to those who don’t fall under the cultural heritage preservation clause. You understand why, don’t you?”

The furiously blushing girl jerked a nod. “I do,” she whispered. “But Your Grace, it doesn’t change the fact that.—“

The most petite of the three covered purple’s mouth, solemnly shaking her head. “Every tool is permissible in war, sister, when survival is on the line.”

The middle elf nodded. “We can beg the gods for forgiveness on your behalf when the orcs are no more. But we can’t do shit if we’re all dead.” She then bowed solemnly. “By your leave, Prince Silver.” She then led the other two back to the central hall, clearly having no desire to witness what he was about to embrace

Delaying no longer, Eric belted out the words of power and command he felt shivering in the depths of his soul. His voice rang throughout the fortress before echoing endlessly through the fields beyond.

“Surge, centuria! Imperator imperat tibi!”

“Rise, soldiers! Your emperor commands you!”

Eric couldn’t hold back the fierce exhilaration he felt, no matter the screams of the girls all around, admiring gazes turning to horror, disbelief, and in two cases outright fascination as countless orc bodies begin to twitch and shudder. Slowly, at first, the targets of Eric’s necromancy became infused with a steady stream of eldritch power that only grew as increasingly spasmodic trembles turned to spasmodic movements throughout the battlefield. The slurping sounds of entrails sliding back into ruptured bodies was soon just as loud as the grinding cracking sound of thousands of shattered bones fusing themselves pristine and whole once more.

Then, against a backdrop of panicked screams and breathless whispers of the witnesses present, the orc revenants slowly rose to their feet. First a handful, then dozens, until a full hundred were present before Eric. All of them proceeded to pound the butts of their bayoneted muskets and their fists to mail covered chests with eerie synchronicity as the most grizzly of wounds finished stitched themselves together as bright yellow eyes gazed fixedly into Eric’s own.

It was all he could do not to whoop for the exhilaration he felt, sensing all the fearsome energies of the battlefield infusing and bringing life to his soldiers. Soldiers that would think and act as one complex unit. As if each orc was a separate finger on a massive hand, capable of limited independence, but deadliest by far when they coordinated and acted as one.

Eric couldn’t help it, he threw back his head and laughed. Laughed for the sheer rush of power caressing his soul. Laughed for the mad necromancer caricature he knew he was emulating.

And the sudden surge of potency he felt made it clear that his Necromancer level had just surged up quite a bit, to say nothing of his Primal Adventurer class, now absolutely blazing with potency earned, though he decided to hold off from checking his Interface just yet.

First, with his Soul Orb now brimming with necromantic potential, he thought it a great time to bring another quintet of tuskers to the fold.

The two fascinated girls still hovering in the doorway after the others had retreated with more than a couple of screams, slowly approached, peering curiously at Eric’s massive rawhide tarp covered in crimson sigils, now with three perfectly preserved spirit boar placed on three matching circles before calling forth the two already animated tuskers without a full quintet of their own. Because there had been a price to pay after Eric commanded his Tuskers to take on a courtyard full of 20th level and higher Orc classers with an assassin to distract. Yet they held no grudge, happily ambling into their crimson circles before gazing at their inert brethren with what Eric thought an oddly hopeful look.

“So, you’re a real necromancer then?” Said the shortest of the two girls, her voice little more than a whisper.

Eric smiled and nodded, before making a careful examination of all three inert tuskers, glad to see the blood sigils were exactly as they should be as he sent warm thoughts to his mentor Samuel, hoping the boy was well as he cut his wrist and infused all three massive sentinels with his essence-infused blood, the sigils on boars and that mat flaring to uniform brilliant life.

The closest girl squealed and stepped back, her friend catching her, the pair gazing in wide-eyed fascination at the flickering flames of Soul energy.

“That is so fucking awesome!”

Eric grinned. “Thanks. Now if you promise to be absolutely quiet, I’ll let you see what happens next.”

Eric was relieved when the pair quickly nodded and scooted back, sitting cross-legged and staring with rapt attention as Eric closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began channeling the energies trapped within shimmering orb of necromantic power as first one, then a second, and finally, the third massive tusker shuddered to renewed life, before the sigil-laden pentagram blazed with eldritch green flame and Eric howled with exhilaration, the climactic surge of triumph flooding through his soul as the five spirit revenants dipped their massive tusked heads before him, all five of them now joined as one.

Eric was honestly surprised that his Soul Orb seemed hardly diminished. Before thinking back on all the classless musketeers and dozen or more 20+ level classers they had gored and stomped to oblivion. But instead of regret for experience that could have gone to himself, he felt only joy when he brought another quintet of tuskers to life under his banner.

You have successfully raised 8 Spirit Boar Revenants

You have successfully bound two sets of 5-Spirit Boar Revenants units.

You have successfully raised your first hundred Revenants to serve you for eternity!

You have achieved Rank 25 with Rituals of Summoning and Binding!

You have achieved Rank 22 with Spirit Mastery!

Master Necromancer is now Rank 6

Master Necromancer is now Rank 7

Master Necromancer is now Rank 8!

You have chosen the perks: Undead Legion: Tier 2, Undead Legion: Tier 3!

You may now summon up to 400 of your fallen opponents to serve you for eternity after any battle where you are triumphant! Increased ranks allow for higher level fallen to rise to your call. Zero cost to summons.

Undead Legion behave as one disciplined unit that obeys basic commands.

You have defeated over 100 foes lower level than yourself! (Level 10-15). Partial (15%) experience earned for those eliminated with Arcane Blaster Carbine. Partial experience for those eliminated via black powder explosives. Zero experience earned for those killed by Spirit Boar (experience funneled to Soul Orb). Full experience for all other kills!

You have personally defeated multiple targets above your level!

You have conquered (and surrendered) an additional territory!

Master Adventurer is now Rank 18

Master Adventurer is now Rank 19

….

Master Adventurer is now Rank 22!

You have 45 points worth of advancement you may use to shape yourself as you see fit!

Eric svored the incredible rush he felt at his surge of growth, his very soul seeming to ascend a bit with his most recent conquest. Yet the thought of cavalierly placing points in the character sheet of his soul, as if he were no more real or relevant than a stat sheet himself, still bothered him.

Because it was the farthest thing from the truth, he decided at last. It was his efforts that shaped him, not any System Interface scratching its fingers against the chalkboard of his soul. In fact, all he had to do was think back on the most visceral memories of the battles he had survived and endured to sense how he had already changed.

It was all about seizing the moment, he thought. About having the Perception needed to react to one’s opponents so fast it wasn’t just a matter of being quick, but having the processing power to make full use of those precious, endless moments of time.

10 points added to Perception. Perception is now 90!

Spot your sister’s would-be killers before they spot you!

And perhaps, between launching cannon ball sling stones and slicing through his foes with ever increasing ease, his Finesse was improving a bit as well.

More than improving, he was all but positive, was the way his Windblade had torn through those orcs, mithril micro-serrations allowing him to cleave so well through even steel lamellar armor. If he wasn’t on the cusp of a breakthrough in his understanding between thought and action, body and mind, then he was damned close.

10 Points invested into Finesse. Finesse is now 100!

You will find it increasingly easy to master all weapons as mind and body become one!

But it was speed that was everything. The Quickness of feet, forearms, and wrists that a warrior lived or died by, Strength might allow a warrior to use the heaviest of weapons, but it was Quickness that allowed one to strike between the beats, fainting and scoring a killing blow before his opponent even registered the blow, let alone thought up any counter to it.

23 Points invested into Quickness. Quickness is now 150!

If speed is everything, then your growth is transcendent! You can now strike most lower difficulty foes before they can blink!

He spared only a moment to sense the evolution of his stats, wasting no more time than that, finally understanding that it wasn’t the System that forced his growth, but his own struggles against what should have been overwhelming odds, desperate to shape himself into the warrior he wished to be, had always been meant to be, that allowed him to use the flood of Potency earned from all his kills to force the System into serving him.

Or such was the epiphany he embraced, determined to see the System now as nothing more than the tool that he chose to use to evolve into a warrior deadly enough to overcome his foes, save his sister, and rescue the girl he could so easily have fallen for. And he would do it all while butchering absolutely everyone who got in his way.