He wasn’t sure. I can’t rely on luck. I must be certain. This is my family’s life at stake. He gulped due to anxiety. He couldn’t guarantee his father or another Expert Scribe wouldn’t decipher the blood magic grimoire, resulting in Greaves killing a scribe’s family.
He stood and started pacing again before stopping in front of the marble statue of the Goddess Demeter. I have to kill him before anyone deciphers the book. His hand was resting on the handle of his new dagger. I have to choose a combat class and train hard for a few years before killing him.
Jack clenched his fists and imagined driving a poisoned dagger deep into the Baron’s fat gut. His obsession with killing Greaves guided his thoughts as he looked through the list of available classes again.
There are a lot of combat classes. He pulled out a notepad and pen and wrote down the combat classes, sorting them into similar categories. For good measure, he included all the non-combat classes as well, so he’d have everything on paper.
Combat Classes
Mage, Blood Mage, Earth Mage, Fire Mage, Ice Mage, Time Mage
Knight, Spearman, Swordsman, Warrior
Archer, Hunter, Ranger
Assassin, Infiltrator, Rogue, Scout, Spy, Thief, Tracker
Inquisitor, Poisoner, Trapsmith
Non-Combat Classes
Actor, Administrator, Alchemist, Architect, Artist, Baker, Bard, Beggar, Blacksmith, Brewmeister, Carpenter, Cartographer, Cook, Dancer, Draughtsman, Explorer, Farmer, Herbologist, Hermit, Historian, Horseman, Housekeeper, Jeweller, Labourer, Librarian, Linguist, Maid, Mathematician, Merchant, Negotiator, Outcast, Poet, Priest of Demeter, Priest of Nemesis, Priest, Researcher, Scholar,
Jack had picked up the habit of committing to paper anything he wanted to memorise. As a scribe, he’d had the skill, Perfect Recall, which allowed him to memorise anything he read or viewed that was written down.
While he had his notepad out, he wrote down his affinities in a table format. He included three values. His ‘Current’ affinity value, the value ‘At Death’, and the value ‘At Sixteen’ in his first life.
Table of Affinities
Affinity | Current | At Death | At Sixteen
Fate 71% : 17% : 12%
Time 62% : 43% : 38%
Void 55% : 8% : 8%
Divine 44% : 18% : 17%
Arcane 43% : 24% : 22%
Chaos 37% : 9% : 9%
Death 34% : 11% : 8%
Light 32% : 28% : 24%
Earth 25% : 23% : 21%
Darkness 25% : 11% : 9%
Sound 21% : 18% : 13%
Healing 21% : 17% : 15%
Psychic 20% : 18% : 16%
Blood 18% : 14% : 12%
Fire 16% : 14% : 10%
Metal 15% : 12% : 11%
Space 15% : 4% : 4%
Ice 14% : 6% : 3%
Air 13% : 11% : 10%
Luck 13% : 6% : 9%
Water 11% : 9% : 7%
Poison 10% : 8% : 5%
Lightning 9% : 6% : 5%
Nature 8% : 6% : 5%
Gravity 3% : 2% : 2%
Jack compared all his affinities. They’ve changed so much. Why? A realisation hit. Damn it! I no longer have Perfect Recall. That’s going to make remembering things more difficult. He looked through what he’d written. Although I did remember all my old affinities, perhaps I’ll be lucky and still remember everything I previously memorised.
He gave a little chuckle when he looked at the percentages for the Luck affinity. My bad luck just kept getting worse. Over the course of his first life, his Luck affinity fell from 9% to 6%. Affinities aren’t meant to decrease! At least it’s higher now. Hmm… 13%, still not great.
Jack was still standing in front of the Goddess of the harvest statue, and none of the combat classes appealed to him. He started to doubt his decision; he didn’t want to be a fighter, he wanted to be a scribe.
Despite his earlier hesitation, he thought of Jasmin again and smiled. She’d love the birds singing here. Would she marry a brewmaster or a hermit? He laughed at the thought, receiving a few strange looks from the other temple visitors.
Don’t get sidetracked. What to choose? His right hand itched where he’d cut it on the blood-red rose; he scratched it absent-mindedly as he slumped back down on a pew.
Jack made a list in his notepad of what was important.
1. Novice combat class capable of killing Greaves in under 4 years.
2. Fast levelling. Ideally, reach level 25 before I’m 20.
He wrote down the faster levelling combat classes.
Archer
Assassin
Spearman
Swordsman
Warrior
Jack stopped writing before finishing the list. Damn! They are all bad choices. He scanned through the remaining combat classes. Only the mage classes are appealing… but I can’t wait ten years to level.
The mage classes were among the slowest to level up, and more importantly, they were weak at the novice level. He wouldn’t be capable of killing the Baron as a Novice Mage.
His shoulders slumped at the thought of becoming a paid assassin. He’d already failed as an assassin and knew he couldn’t spend four plus years killing innocent people to level up the class fast enough to use it to kill Greaves. I can’t do it.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Jack considered the other classes and shook his head. In his heart, he knew he wasn’t brave enough to choose a melee class like warrior. The idea of fighting with a sword or spear was enough to give him nightmares.
He sighed again at not being able to choose mage. He liked the idea of becoming a mage, though not as much as being a scribe.
Fuck! I have to choose archer. The archer class was the better choice to kill the Baron before the blood magic spell book was deciphered and translated. Plus, he could make a living as an archer without becoming a cold-blooded killer.
“Please give me the strength to make this choice, Demeter.” Jack felt a warm autumn breeze caress his sweaty skin. He hadn’t even realised he was sweating. It felt like he was standing before a field of golden wheat ready for the harvest. There was a slight floral scent, but he couldn’t place the odour. His hand, where the blood-red rose had cut him, itched again, like it was trying to tell him something.
As the sound of songbirds washed over him, he took a slow, deep breath and felt himself calm down. His turbulent mind and tense muscles relaxed, and he felt ready to choose his future path.
Jack closed his eyes and said, “Thank you,” to the Goddess of the harvest and selected archer as his class.
He stared at his skills list in shock. The words blurred for a second and then came back into focus. “No… this can’t be right. How?”
[Class Screen-Internal View]
Class: Novice Archer (0)
Compatibility: 23%
- True Aim (0)
- Rapid Release (0)
- Multi-Shot (0)
As expected, he had the standard Novice Archer class and skills, all at level 0. Any other archery skills, like Flame Arrow, would have to be learned and practised over time. Time he didn’t have. Sadly, he had a very low Class Compatibility score of only 23%. This would hamper his archery progress in the short term, but with the right sort of training, the percentage would increase.
He expected to see only archer. That’s what he’d chosen, after all. But what surprised Jack was that his scribe class and skills were also listed.
[Class Screen-Internal View]
Class: Apprentice Scribe (31)
Compatibility: 70%
- Copy Text (4)
- Translate Text (3)
- Draughtsmanship (4)
- Perfect Recall (4)
- Create Cypher/Decipher (3)
- Inscribe Spell (5)
- Bind Book (2)
He’d retained all his scribe skills and two-plus decades of experience from his first life. He was still a level 31 Apprentice Scribe.
“Why? I-I’m still a scribe.” Jack whispered to himself. Relief flooded his body as he realised what this meant. “I can still work with Dad.”
Even his Class Compatibility score had recovered to its original higher percentage. In fact, it was a couple of percentage points higher than his first time around.
He shook his head in confusion. Nothing makes sense.
In his first life, the damage to his right hand, one of his eyes, and lungs—and twenty years of alcohol abuse—resulted in his original Class Compatibility score of 68% dropping to 43%. It had been even lower at one point. After reducing the time he spent in taverns to concentrate on training for his revenge, the score recovered partially.
The Fates had smiled on him. All the disappointment at having to choose a combat class faded away. I’m still a scribe. This changes everything. Jack looked at the marble statue, smiled, and thanked the Goddess Demeter again. “Thank you so much. I-I swear by the Gods I won’t waste this life.”
He turned away from the Choosing Stone and headed towards the temple exit while enjoying the birdsong. As he walked home through the capital city, he reevaluated his plans. I can work as a scribe while also training as an archer. He smiled at a young couple who walked together hand in hand. I can have a good life as a scribe with Jasmin, and seek justice against the Baron… I can have it all.
He was already devising a basic plan of action. Like in his first life, he’d work as a scribe under his father. However, this time, when Greaves tasked his father to decipher the book of spells on blood magic, he’d convince his dad to take the first few translated pages to either the head of the Royal Library or the Inquisition, bypassing the Baron.
Over the next few years, he’d train his archery skills and, if necessary, seek revenge on the Baron.
There were books dedicated to how to train for a specific class, with charts and tables explaining the relevance of Class Compatibility with hundreds of different skills. Jack recalled a page from a book, Path of the Bow, about archery skills he’d memorised.
True Aim (0)
Draw and hold a nocked arrow before letting loose a more accurate, faster, and powerful shot.
6.0 seconds to activate the skill.
Accuracy, Speed, and Power 5% above the Class Compatibility score.
Jack frowned as he calculated how much power a True Aim empowered arrow would hold at level 0. “Damn. That’s not good. I only gain twenty-eight per cent compared to before.”
He’d used the simple formula of adding his Compatibility percentage of 23% to the 5% offered by the skill at its base level.
Jack sighed; he’d need years of training, rune-enchanted arrows, and maybe divine intervention just to land a clean shot. At only 28% accuracy, his archery skills wouldn’t qualify him to consistently hit a training dummy, let alone Greaves, who would be wearing rune-etched protections.
Pausing by the edge of a fountain, he watched his reflection ripple in the water. If he didn’t shape up, he’d fail to kill Greaves again. He needed his body to grow stronger over the next few years. Fifty per cent Class Compatibility wasn’t the end goal; it was the minimum requirement.
Jack continued on his way while giving a deeper sigh. “Looks like I’ll be doing a lot of exercise.”
His father’s words came to mind as he walked home, ‘Compatibility’s everything, Son. It encompasses a person’s strength, agility, dexterity, intellect, general state of health, disabilities… everything in a single attribute. A swordsman with bad knees won’t ever match a warrior who was born to fight. Even having a few bad nights of sleep or a bad hangover will temporarily decrease Class Compatibility.’. He was fourteen at the time, and his mom had added, ‘And that’s why smart boys like you don’t go to taverns, Jack.’.
He smiled at the memory. “I should’ve listened to Mom,” he whispered while a feeling of regret washed over him.
Jack visualised the entire table of the True Aim skill from level 0 to level 10 and concentrated on the early levels.
Level 0
Time to activate: 6.0 seconds
Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 5%
Level 1
Time to activate: 5.5 seconds
Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 10%
Average practice time to reach level: 1 year
Level 2
Time to activate: 5.0 seconds
Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 20%.
Average practice time to reach level: 2 years
Level 3
Time to activate: 4.5 seconds
Accuracy, Speed, and Power: 30%
Average practice time to reach level: 4 years
Jack chuckled as he remembered the author’s sarcastic footnote, ‘If you’re reading level 10’s requirements, best reincarnate now or hope you have elven ancestry.’. The time required grew exponentially with each additional level. It would take 512 years to reach level 10.
“I might get to level 3 before I have to deal with Greaves,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the city. “Hmm… if I can get Compatibility up to fifty per cent, my accuracy will be over eighty per cent. Sixty per cent Compatibility would be better, though.”
If the Inquisition did its job, he wouldn’t need to kill Greaves. As Jack approached his home, he imagined Greaves hanging from the gallows along with the other eleven blood mages. Baron Greaves’ high-quality boots dangled a few feet above the cobbled stone, his feet twitching as the life drained out of him.