Level One God

The list of potential class options floated in my view. To my surprise, Voidgaze displayed a separate message for me, as if I was inspecting the readout itself. A separate window of information popped up into my view. I hadn’t seen Voidgaze do something like this before and wondered if maybe reaching Iron had unlocked more potential for the Gold-ranked item. If so, I was going to have to start inspecting the shit out of things—not in a creepy way, of course.

I read the tooltip from Voidgaze first.

[Rare Class Corestone Upgrades] Rare classes provide a number of benefits compared to their common counterparts. Existing abilities will gain new evolution path options tied to the chosen rare class. New abilities, tier evolutions, and further class evolutions will be based on the chosen rare class.

Well damn. “Thanks, Voidgaze,” I muttered. That wasn’t groundbreaking information, but I was excited if it meant reaching Iron had unlocked some new potential of the helmet. I suddenly pulled out my Alchemist’s Kit and inspected it—curious to see if the new and improved Voidgaze could offer any information.

[Alchemist’s Kit (Angelic) (Gold) ?]

I frowned, then sent the kit back to my slip space. Before reaching Iron, I couldn’t even see the kit was Angelic, so it was an improvement. I had needed the magical identification lens in the alchemist’s shop back in Thrask to see that much. Unfortunately, I had also learned getting my max rarity items identified was some politically complex bullshit I wanted to avoid. My best bet was finding a kind of altar of identification, or maybe reaching Silver. If jumping to Iron had already improved Voidgaze’s ability to identify, it was pretty reasonable to assume it would keep getting better until Gold, right?

I’d just have to mess around with the kit later to see if I could discover any new functionality. For now, I was dying to read the class upgrade choices, so I started at the top.

[Initiate Blue Priest (Rare)] Further your mastery of the protective and healing properties of mana, opening yourself to a path of new abilities. The Blue Priest takes the first steps toward using their massive mana stores to fuel the recovery of his allies. They also gain access to the enhancement class of magic, allowing them to bolster themselves and their allies’ combat abilities.

[Mana Fiend (Rare)] Your mastery of mana has unlocked the deadly potential within every living creature. The Mana Fiend learns to devastate foes and use allies as living mana batteries to bolster their abilities. The Mana Fiend can poison the mana supplies of enemies, steal their mana, and has mastered the art of subtly draining the power of their allies to power their skills.

The first two were clear variations on my Heart class corestone, and they were intriguing, even if the Mana Fiend class was slightly disturbing. The Initiate Blue Priest seemed distinctly “Good” themed, and the Mana Fiend seemed very much “Evil” themed. It almost seemed like I was being given the option to lean into a kind of theme based around my new dark mana core. If nothing else, I was relieved I had a choice. I had been afraid the process would be automatic or that my only options would be dark mana themed.

The more sinister description of the Mana Fiend did sound more powerful and well-rounded as a standalone class. I was sure I could just… not be a total asshole and drain the power of my friends against their will, for example. The offensive capabilities sounded powerful even if I ignored the part about using my friends as living batteries.

But I also had two classes. If the Heart corestone was my only class, I might be tempted by the promise of some more offensive firepower. Instead, I had my Soul corestone to balance that need out. It would make more sense to choose the more defensively oriented Heart class options and keep my Soul class focused on offense. At least, it made sense to me, because I wanted to be well-rounded and ready for whatever Eros threw at me.

Between the two, I was more drawn to the Initiate Blue Priest. Admittedly, it was mostly just because the idea of taking some sort of “evil” themed class felt dangerous, given the dark mana lurking inside my body. I also knew the choice would likely lock me into “evil” themed classes for future rarity upgrades. If the starter evil class was already talking about using people as living batteries, just how sinister would it get as my mastery of the class deepened? I could already imagine getting stuck with some kind of cursed rarity class in the end that traded out my mana pool entirely, forcing me to use an army of slaves to fuel my abilities in exchange for massive power.

Yeah. No thanks.

The thought did make me wonder, though. Were cursed classes a thing? Even with my divine ability, I couldn’t imagine ever being crazy enough to risk that, if given the choice. While I was unlocking a Rare class fast by Eros standards, I still didn’t expect to max out my stone’s rarity for years. There was no way I’d throw away all that work and risk a cursed class.

I moved on to the next two options, which were the upgrades for my Soul corestone.

[Initiate Elemental Weaver (Rare)] Deepen your understanding of the elemental planes, harnessing the destructive and disruptive power of natural forces. The Initiate Elemental Weaver may specialize in a single elemental plane, gaining several benefits when using that element. Their understanding and ability with other elements will remain, but this advanced class takes the first steps toward true mastery over one particular element. In time, the Elemental Weaver may become a deadly avatar of a single elemental plane, bringing destruction to their foes.

[Umbral Warlock (Rare)] Despite proving mastery of several elements, the Umbral Warlock shuns them all for the pure destructive potential of the dark power of umbral energy itself. The Umbral Warlock is a pure, offensive weapon, matched by few. Destroy your enemies, bathe them in shadow, and use the raw, terrible power of the umbral plane to gather servants to your cause.

Yikes. The flavor text for these evil classes was certainly something. Gather servants to my cause? I figured these things were more like suggestions, but it was definitely not a great first impression of a class, considering I preferred friends to servants, thralls, and human batteries…

Concerning morality aside, I honestly didn’t love either option.

Okay, the whole “deadly avatar” thing sounded cool from a pure, class fantasy perspective. But this was reality for me. I wasn’t playing a video game where I could reset from my last save point if things went wrong. I couldn’t always count on having a balanced party or being put into fair fights.

Both class options seemed like hard leans into offensive capabilities, which was disappointing. Yes, I wanted more guns to bring to fights, so to speak, but I also needed adaptability. I had to be flexible and ready with multiple tools. My time in this place had already shown me that much several times over. I couldn’t just rely on blowing things up.

Well… I kind of had blown a lot of things up with great success since acquiring Bombroot potion, but that was beside the point. I liked having options.

The Elemental Weaver sounded like it would let me keep the utility abilities I already had but would lead me down a path where I would get locked into a single element of my choice. I imagined future evolutions of the class would widen the gap between my abilities of that element and everything else, which I didn’t love. I wanted to keep getting stronger and stronger utility options, along with offensive and defensive options. Was that really so much to ask?

My capability to carry multiple potions into battle and tap into any effect and element I wanted at a moment’s notice had essentially been a superpower so far. I had only just started growing my arsenal of potions, too. Once I had more money and time to stock up, I would only get better in that regard.

And the Umbral Warlock… Again, if this was a video game, I probably would’ve clicked it without much hesitation. It did sound badass, like some kind of shadow-wielding glass cannon? Conquer my foes and make my allies bend to my will? Okay, maybe not. Even in video games, I was never great at sticking to “evil” themed runs. Even when I started out with the intention, I wound up feeling too bad for people at certain points and taking a moral U-turn.

There was no chance I would entertain that kind of thing here. Umbral magic could very well be the same thing as dark mana. In other words, it could be an entire class focused on using dark mana. Based on my current understanding of dark mana, that wouldn’t work. I’d have no way to limit how much dark mana I used each day, effectively giving me a kind of pitch count like a D&D mage if I didn’t want to go insane by the end of the night.

There was also the matter of how much it would probably make people uneasy if I fought with shadows. I supposed Zahra more or less used some kind of black magic, but it felt kind of fitting, given the whole sekmeti thing. I also thought a purple-skinned, glittery gold freckled cat girl with an innocent smile could pull something like that off.

Me, though? I’d probably scare the shit out of people if I started slinging shadows.

I thought Rake was definitely using a type of umbral magic for his class. If it was an upgraded class, which I suspected, he was probably offered some seriously evil choices for being a murderous asshole.

I tapped my chin in thought. If I passed on upgrading my Soul corestone for now, I wondered if I could eventually change the upgrade choices.

It was a bit frustrating because if the class choices were based on how I had used them, I should’ve had one purely focused on utility and adaptability. I wondered if the dark mana had nuked that option, short-circuiting the way things were supposed to go here.

I slid my eyes down to the final two choices, and my frustrations melted away.

[Initiate Mana Bender (Rare) (Fusion Class) (+1 Active and +1 Passive ability slots)] The Mana Bender has demonstrated command over mana in nearly all of its forms. They combine the destructive and restorative properties of mana into a single class that is both effective in single combat and a well-rounded ally in a group. [Warning: this class will combine some, but not all of your abilities into [fusion] abilities. Fusion abilities will only occupy a single passive or active ability slot. Fusion classes may not be combined with other fusion classes. Only [common] rarity classes may be fused with fusion classes].

[Shadow Friend (Rare) (Fusion Class) (+1 Active and +1 Passive ability slots)] The Shadow Friend revokes their affinity for all elements but the umbral plane, embracing shadow and all of its potential. The Shadow Friend specializes in manipulative control magic, dominating friend and foe with the umbral touch, wielding allies as willing puppets, and causing its enemies to destroy themselves or become loyal thralls. [Warning: this class will combine some, but not all of your abilities into [fusion] abilities. Fusion abilities will only occupy a single passive or active ability slot. Fusion classes may not be combined with other fusion classes. Only [common] rarity classes may be fused with fusion classes].

Wow. There was too much to process all at once.

The first thing that jumped out was the addition of a passive and active skill. That alone made it hard to imagine not choosing the fusion class. My gamer brain also immediately leaned toward the rule of… “if it’s harder to get or more rare, it’s probably better.” But I had to keep reminding myself the same rules may not apply here. I had to stop and think about this carefully, making sure I wasn’t relying on unreliable assumptions about how things worked here.

The Mana Bender still sounded like exactly the kind of class I had been hoping for, and the description mentioned combining some abilities, which would further free up my slots for new abilities as I continued to advance.

So it granted me a new passive and active slot, would combine some existing abilities, effectively freeing up even more slots for new abilities, and I liked the sound of the class. So far, so good.

The only real point to worry about was the combination of abilities. I couldn’t be certain I would like the combinations. Admittedly, I was mostly just scared that Forge Echo would be altered in some way that would “kill” Pebble. I didn’t mention as much to him, as he was just rolling around, blissfully unaware of what kinds of choices I had to consider.

Cute pets aside, I had grown to like all my abilities. The idea of any of them being fundamentally changed made me uneasy. But I also assumed I was going to want to use as many of the new abilities I would unlock along the way as possible. More skill slots meant I could bring more of them into fights, which was undeniably a good thing. After all, I still had a shiny new ability called Mana Surge that I hadn’t been able to touch yet because of a lack of active ability slots, and the problem would only continue to get worse as I grew.

I doubted a fusion ability would be objectively bad. Chances were, it would still be better, just a little different than what I was used to.

I forced myself to go through each class, giving them all one last careful look. I started with the other fusion class.

I was almost glad Dark Friend sounded so irredeemably evil that I didn’t have to give it much serious thought. It simply wasn’t how I wanted to operate in this world. Even if I could see some arguments that the evil classes would likely lead to more raw power, I just couldn’t justify any of them. The biggest part was simply not feeling like they were “me.” The other part was knowing that I would never be the kind of person who could stay sane if I was always fighting solo. I needed some occasional companionship and didn’t want to use my friends as tools.

So, I officially crossed off every evil class from my options.

That left me picking between upgrading a single class with either the Initiate Blue Priest or the Initiate Elemental Weaver. Or, of course, I could choose to blend my corestones together in the “fusion” option, becoming an Initiate Mana Bender. All three classes seemed to follow the same title and ranking system, while the more “evil” classes appeared more random.

The temptation to see how cool the titles of more advanced versions of each class would get definitely didn’t play any part in my decision.

The “safe” choice was the Initiate Blue Priest. I would add to the benefits I already had and make my Heart Corestone class that much more powerful. There was no tradeoff and no downside I could determine unless I counted missing out on the obvious unique potential of the fusion class. I did count that as a downside, so I moved on to the next choice.

The middle ground of risk and safety was the Elemental Weaver class. With it, I also wasn’t immediately losing any capabilities, as far as I could tell. But this one would narrow my focus as I grew, forcing me into a smaller and smaller box, even if it was a powerful box. Sure, there might be a whole range of utility within a single elemental plane. If I focused on ice, for example, I could probably make armor, freeze enemies, form walls of ice, weapons of ice, and so on. But I also couldn’t guarantee any of that, and I would be opening myself up to getting completely countered by an opposing element.

If I was strictly an ice mage, for example, what would happen if I ever wound up in that dungeon Zahra and Ramzi mentioned called “The Inferno?” I’d be screwed, most likely.

No… I just didn’t like the idea of putting myself in such a small box. It helped that the final option was so damn good, too.

That brought me back to the Initiate Mana Bender fusion class. If nothing else, it added an active and passive ability slot, which was huge. I was only just starting out, and I already felt annoyed at having to sit one of my active abilities on the bench. Having an extra ability slot was also one of my prestige benefits, implying it was a relatively massive advantage, given how strong all of the other prestige bonuses had been.

Doubling that bonus with a simple class upgrade seemed like a no-brainer.

But the most exciting part about the fusion class was something that immediately jumped out to me when I read the warning text.

The fusion class could be combined with other common classes. In other words… I could combine all four base combat classes into a mega fusion class, which appealed to me on so many levels it gave me goosebumps.

It didn’t stop there, though… If I could do this more than once, then I could also probably gain the active and passive slot bonus each time I fused classes. More active slots would make me better at adapting to unpredictable situations, but the bigger list of passives… That could become incredibly strong in a hurry. Passives didn’t tend to require concentration or focus. They just were. People without prestige paths got four passive slots. I already had five because of my prestige path. This would bump me to six. And who knew how many more I could add?

There were also crafting corestone classes. I hardly knew a thing about them, but what would happen if I fused one to my mega class? Could I get combat crafting abilities? Or would I just get the side bonus of being able to craft while also being able to fight? Or maybe I could learn to harvest materials from the monsters I killed, massively boosting my earnings potential as I was in places like this.

Pebble seemed to sense my excitement. He was bouncing around, rolling in fast circles like a dog with the zoomies.

“Yeah, Buddy. That’s exactly how I feel, too.”

Just… please don’t let this fusion thing screw with Forge Echo.

The more I thought about it, the more the Initiate Mana Bender seemed like the only choice I could realistically consider.

I still worried some about which abilities would be fused and how it might change them, though. Even if I put aside the cute pet problem, I also had abilities I had come to rely on. Would I find myself missing one of my core abilities? And what would happen to the abilities I had risen above Tier 1? Would the higher tier apply to the fused skill, or would the tier average out between the two merged skills?

Unfortunately, it seemed like I had to pick the class if I really wanted to find out.

I stood still as I stared at the description, trying to turn over everything to make sure there wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. All I could do was continue to think of reasons this was great. The existence of this altar meant there were likely more out in the world. Even if these were rare, each would be a massive opportunity and power spike.

The only other “problem” I could see was that there was an end to the rarity system. It was possible that the number of rarity tiers could limit my number of combinations. Assuming Angelic, Demonic, and Cursed rarities also existed for classes, that would mean I still had epic, legendary, and then the final tier of three options. If so… I would have just enough time to combine the four base classes and maybe pick one crafting class and I’d gain three more active and three more passive skill slots.

I would need to decide if adding a crafting or gathering type of class early made more sense than saving it for the very end. Chances were, the money I could gain from having some kind of gathering class would be a huge help. But so would rounding myself out with the tankiness of a Shield class or the increased offensive abilities of a Sword class.

I felt myself starting to stress about it, then reminded myself that these were good problems to have. I had just stumbled upon an insane boost to my potential and a new appreciation for how insanely powerful my prestige path was going to be.

I knelt, one hand still stuck in the tree cavity as I stretched to pet Pebble’s little head. “Alright, Buddy. No matter what happens, you’ll be my favorite rock bro.”

Pebble looked confused but waited patiently.

I sighed, putting all my effort into willing the Forge Echo ability to stay unchanged. If mana worked the way I thought it did, maybe there was a chance I could actually protect the ability.

“Okay,” I said. “Can I ask you something, creepy tree?”

The tree rumbled.

“If I say I want the Mana Bender class, can you promise not to screw with my ability called ‘Forge Echo’?”

“Initiate Mana Bender,” groaned the tree.

Seriously? The big creepy dark mana tree is going to nag me about not using the full title? “Okay, yeah. That. Can you do it?”

“I do not choose the path. I only open the door.”

I swallowed hard. “I want to choose the Initiate Mana Bender class upgrade.”

“It is done,” the tree said.

I felt a warm rush in my cores as they pressed together, slightly resisting each other but then melting into one.

Before anything else, I pulled up my ability list and breathed a sigh of relief. Forge Echo was okay.

Then my eyebrows crept up as I scanned the rest of the list. Okay… I can live with this.

The talking stone in my pouch suddenly vibrated. I had almost forgotten about the thing, but I pulled it out, fumbling and lifting it to my face.

“You almost done in there?” Lyria said through the stone. “I was going to come and get you, but I was worried you might be doing something weird…”

“Uh… just a few more minutes,” I said. “I’m doing something weird. You don’t want to see this.”

“Ugh.” Lyria cut off the connection.

I grinned, looking back at the list of my new and improved fusion class.

Hell yes.