Ever since I escaped the Fractured Realm, I had been hounded by the System to get a Class. Each and every time that blue box appeared, it offered me only a single option: to become a [Hero]. More specifically, it wanted me to become the [Worldwalker Hero of Vacuos]. But I said no.
The System was trying to impose the role of a hero onto me, and I wasn’t going to accept that. I was tired of fighting. I remembered every waking moment I had spent in the Fractured Realm. I had spent so long in that broken world I had lost track of time. All I remembered were the countless voidlings and voidbeasts spawning out of the Void. They crawled out of rifts, and they tore themselves out of fading stars.
There was no thrill to fighting. It was simply what I had to do. However, it was also all I knew. So even now, I reverted to it when there was nothing else for me.
But a chance finally presented itself to me. The opportunity to find something that wasn’t related to fighting. I no longer had to be a hero— I could simply live a normal life if I became a [Farmer]. And this chance came from Nolan.
Noele’s father.
He had brought me out to the fields to teach me how to become a farmer. As the highest-leveled [Farmer] in Wolfwater, he could show me the ropes, and I would listen. But now, he was finally going to divulge the secret behind how he even got his Class in the first place.
Nolan leaned forward as I waited earnestly. He opened his mouth, speaking slowly.
“The first time the World System offered me the [Farmer] Class wasn’t when I picked up a hoe, nor was it when I planted my first seed,” he said in a hushed voice.
“When did it offer you the Class, then?” I asked as I drew closer, hanging onto his every word.
He smiled, eyes twinkling. “It was after I had done all that— after I had tilled my first field and harvested my first crops. My Papa taught me how to work as a [Farm Hand], and he praised me for my hard work. That night, I took a good look at myself and said, ‘I am a farmer now.’”
I continued waiting, listening intensely. I thought there was more to come. I thought he would continue on. But he just nodded at himself, satisfied.
“Then that was when the World System showed itself to me.”
And I blinked.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it,” he confirmed.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Seriously,” he confirmed.
I opened my mouth and raised my hand. I tried to protest, but stopped myself. What was there even for me to say? I took one look at Nolan who had his lips curled up as he nodded at me. And I sighed.
“That’s too fucking simple. I refuse to believe that’s how it works.”
“But it is,” Nolan insisted. “Not many people realize it, but that is how you get a Class. They think that just because they’ve swung a sword a few times, or cooked a few meals, they should become a [Warrior] or a [Cook].”
I just stared at the [Farmer] as he continued his explanation.
“No— it is only when they’ve become confident of their own abilities, can they meet their Class requirements.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Of course, you can’t just confidently pick up a sword and become a [Warrior]. The first step is always to learn the basics of their Class first.”
I tried to argue. I wanted to argue. But Nolan knew what he was talking about. He was an inhabitant of Vacuos. Not only that, but what he said made sense.
After all, if just cooking a meal made someone eligible to be a [Cook] according to the System, then that meant that most people would be [Cooks]. However, that clearly was not the case. It was only after cooking certain recipes and recognizing yourself as an actual cook, would the System then offer the option to be a [Cook].
It sounded convoluted. But it would explain my predicament. The System offered me only a single option. Not to be a [Farmer]. Not to be a [Cook]. Not to be a [Warrior]. Not to be a [Mage]. And not to be a [Rogue].
Grat-ra’zun had said that if someone was offered only a single Class, then that just meant they hadn’t tried hard enough to get another Class. I misinterpreted what he said; he had only given me half of the equation. I had thought it simply meant that I had to do more things to be offered a Class as a [Cook].
But that was wrong. Or, rather, that was only half right. It was by acting as a [Cook] would— carrying out tasks like I was a [Cook]— would I see myself as a [Cook]. However, no matter what I did, I would never get that option as long as I never saw myself as a [Cook].
And I didn’t see myself as a [Cook], hence why I didn’t get that offered. I only saw myself as one thing— the very same thing that the System had offered me. It was what the System tried to impose upon me. More accurately though, it was what I had imposed upon myself.
I was a hero. So the System gave me the choice to become a [Hero].
That… was annoying.
“Is something wrong, Amelia?” Nolan asked, peering into me with a worried look.
I just sighed. “It’s nothing.”
—--
Noele wandered down the gravel road out of Wolfwater as Garron trailed slowly behind her. The pair of adventurers were walking down a path even the blonde girl didn’t recognize. She glanced around at the unfamiliar road— she looked towards the vast fields that expanded to the horizon.
This was her hometown. But it was also so unfamiliar to her. The village really had changed a lot since she had last been here.
Neither Noele nor Garron said anything for a moment. The Steel Tank himself was entranced by his surroundings. He gaped at pretty much everything he saw, from the growing crops to the blooming flowers.
“I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve ever been to a real farm,” Noele finally said, drawing his attention. “Aren’t you a B-rank adventurer? I’d have thought you’d have traveled far and wide around the Astrad Kingdom at the very least.”
Garron paused, glancing away from a [Farmer] at work. He chuckled as he faced the blonde girl.
“They don’t call me Windrip’s very own B-rank adventurer for nothing.” He shook his head. “I rarely ever left the city. It was tough— especially early on in my career as an adventurer. Most newbie adventurers actually leave Windrip when they’re starting out because Briar Glen is so dangerous.”
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Noele nodded. “Right, and plenty of outside adventurers stay over at Windrip for the exact same reason.”
“There were farms in Windrip. But they were always incredibly cramped, and crops were grown by both [Mages] and [Farmers] indoors in these square plots of land in the middle of the city,” Garron explained.
“Oh, so that’s what those buildings were.” The blonde girl blinked. “I always thought those were prisons.”
And the burly man raised his head. He swept his gaze over the surroundings and harrumphed. “A prison, huh? Compared to this, all of Windrip is a prison.”
“Don’t say that,” Noele chuckled. “I visited Briar Glen last year, and the area around Windrip is lovely in the late spring.”
“Outside of Windrip, indeed.” Garron spoke as he stared into the large swathes of farmland. His stoic gaze fixed only to the blooming scenery. “But living within Windrip— within those tall walls— is no different from living in a prison. I have to thank you for freeing me from that life, Noele. I never realized what I was missing until I met you. I was so obsessed with revenge, I never realized I was missing the whole entire world from my life.”
“Oh.” That took Noele by surprise. She didn’t remember doing anything in particular for him. The two were sparring partners— she had enlisted his help to train with her when she was still trying to figure out how to control her Skills without actually using her Skills.
They had spoken outside of their sparring sessions, but she didn’t recall any heartfelt moments. However, Garron clearly did. And that was the thing she had finally noticed about him. While he might look rather brutish with that glower always fixed on his face, he was quite soft and emotional inside of that gruff exterior.
Noele smiled as she patted him on the shoulder. He looked back her way as she spoke and shook her head.
“I’m glad I could help you with that. I understand how it feels. I’ve made a few realizations of my own over the last few months.”
“What have you realized?” Garron asked as he turned to her.
She closed her eyes, recalling the events since she met Amelia. “Many things. For one, I had lost my reason for being an adventurer.”
“You did?” The burly man’s eyes grew wide as he stared her way. “Wait— on the day of the party… is that why you…?”
“It’s fine,” Noele said reassuringly as she opened her eyes. “I found out that I do want to continue being an adventurer soon after. And now, I believe I know the reason why I did everything I have done to get to this point.”
Whether it was to become strong or something else, Noele understood herself better than ever today. She had a full week to reflect. But she never came to a conclusion. Not until after last night’s dream where she was forced to relive her memories.
“What is that reason, Noele?” Garron asked as he peered into her.
“The reason I became an adventurer… the reason I became strong…” the Noble Spellsword started as she raised her head.
And she remembered her sister’s bravery. She recalled Nora the Noble Sworddancer’s final words. Noele recited them as she raised an opened palm and tightened it into a fist.
“I did it all to protect the weak.”
“That is…” Garron furrowed his brows for a moment as she finished. He studied the determined look on her face. He saw the way she seemed to stand taller than before. Then he chuckled. “I can see why they call you noble, now. You indeed befit your given Title.”
Noele just smiled. “I learned it all from my sister.”
“Then she must’ve been quite the wonderful woman,” he said, to which Noele nodded in agreement, remembering her sister.
“She was… she really was…”
—--
Skystead burned. Odell breathed in, taking in the scent of charred flesh. He saw his bandit group cutting down women and children as they fled the city. He heard the screams of men being trampled and he relished in it. He spread his arms wide and smiled as his bandit group rode past him and razed the city to ash.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. “Magnificent. We are moving way ahead of schedule. I did not think that these cities would put up as little resistance as they have so far. It seems that the Astrad Kingdom really has their hands full with the Kingdom of Kal…”
Oh, how Odell loved this. He thrived in this. He rarely had the chance to run amok these days due to the orders of the Sect of Abyssal Thorns. Odell knew restraint. And that was why he was the leader of the Miststorm Riders, not Emory. Not that it mattered now, since Emory was dead.
A figure twitched amidst a pile of corpses. A bloodied [Mage] raised his head, pointing a wand at Odell from behind.
“Y-you… monster!” the man cried out as he unleashed a blast of lightning.
And Odell just tilted his head out of the way, sighing. The spell struck a nearby tree as the leader of the Miststorm Riders sat atop his horse and glanced back towards the dying [Mage].
“First of all, I am not just an ordinary monster— I am the Monster of the Mist,” Odell said as he got off his horse. Shaking his head, he walked up to the [Mage] and knelt down. “Secondly, here’s a tip for you—”
Odell held the [Mage]’s gaze and smiled savagely.
“The next time you sneak attack someone, try not to announce the attack. That is— if you get a next time. Which you won’t.”
And with that, the Monster of the Mist flicked a finger. A purple blast engulfed the [Mage], scarring the earth. When Odell stepped back, there was nothing but a crater right before him. Complete and total obliteration.
He slowly hopped back onto his horse and sighed wistfully. “Oh, how I’ve missed this.”
Perhaps the Miststorm Riders might even reach Whiteridge by the end of the week. Odell didn’t know. He just knew that he couldn’t wait to lay waste to even more cities.