Chapter 58: Class Progression (Patreon)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Vv6HGvjmApD1KGYgphk-_bcoy5xq2RV_kF30zbqBjEM/edit?usp=sharing

--

“Some of your other classes will take pity on you during this first week, easing you into their first lessons after the pain trials. Not this class.” The ratkin teacher – Professor Tawny – glared at the class full of students, a few of them with notebooks and pens on the desks in front of them, but the majority were empty-handed and relaxed. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of ‘going easy’ on you. Class Progression is a subject integral to both your current and future potential, and many of you, I suspect, are on the cusp of upgrading or changing your classes.” She slapped a small, furry hand on the desk in front of her. “I will not abide a loss of that potential due to ignorance of the subject matter that I am expected to teach you. So, with that, let’s begin.”

Cayden wasn’t one of the students so foolish as to not bring a notebook and pen to class, and he began to feverishly copy down the professor’s words as she resumed speaking. While he could always ask Elise for what he considered expert advice on his build, a class like this was worth its weight in gold to him. Elise was undeniably brilliant and knowledgable, but, at the end of the day, she was still a seventeen-year-old girl from a small town with little-to-no actual combat experience. Advice from someone with years of experience in the adventuring sphere who also had the intelligence and learning of a professor – that was invaluable.

“When you touch a class stone, you will be given the opportunity to change your class to a new, level-one class. The options for your new class are based on the actions that you perform regularly – your actions that are not performed regularly, no matter how impressive, will not be taken into consideration for your options. It generally takes between two to six months of repeating an action or set of actions before a class stone will recognize it and offer you a corresponding class. It must have become a habit, a part of your daily or weekly schedule, for you to be offered a related class. Which means that for those of you hoping to gain a combat class after your first few days at the academy: unless you’ve been fighting seriously before this, be prepared for disappointment.”

Cayden wondered how many people would fall into that camp. He was sure none of the non-noble students would – they had all been adventuring for years and certainly had their ‘adventuring’ classes. But hadn’t Valeria mentioned something about how some of the noble students kept their social classes while attending the academy since they would be more useful after they graduated? Would any of the nobles have combat classes already? If not, that would make some of their performances in Frontline Combat 101 much more impressive.

“If you touch a class stone when your current class is level ten, you will still be able to accept a new class, but you will also have the options to either keep or upgrade your current class. Upgrading the class typically offers the most changes and benefits, allowing you to upgrade some skills while maintaining their level or potentially even gain a new class skill slot. Regardless, progressing past level ten in a class will always offer you at least one new skill that you can use to replace a previous skill.” She paused, staring out at the class with intensity. “I highly recommend that you consult with me or another trusted professor before accepting any new skills or class changes.”

Murmuring broke out among the students, and even Cayden was shocked. Sharing stats and skills with anyone other than immediate family was hugely taboo. Even classes and class skills, which were much more standardized at the earlier levels and could be fairly easily deduced with [Inspect] plus a little research, were kept close to the chest.

And yet here was a professor almost demanding they share their class evolutions with her on the first day of her class. Even for Cayden, who had shared everything from his status with Elise from the moment he’d turned twelve, it was surprising.

While she waited for the murmuring to die down, Professor Tawny turned to the large blackboard behind her desk and wrote a single sentence with a piece of chalk. “Not all skills are beneficial,” she said as she underlined those same words three times. “At least not for your future progression. And I’m not just talking about notorious skills like [Berserk] with their inbuilt drawbacks. Some of the skills that are considered to be some of the most powerful general or racial skills are terrible class skills. Terrible enough that they can bring your class progression to a screeching halt.”

That, at least, got the class’ full attention.

Professor Tawny gestured, and a large blue screen appeared above her outstretched hand. Except for its size, it looked identical to a status menu, but Cayden had never heard of anyone being able to ‘project’ their status for others.

Second Chance (passive): Once per twenty-four hours, if you would otherwise die, don't.

“This is the skill [Second Chance]. It is a skill often offered to [Soldiers] upon going through their level-ten class upgrade. As I’m sure many of you can imagine, it is widely seen as an amazing skill that anyone would be lucky to have. It is also the skill most often responsible for a soldier being passed over for promotion, stalling their career and progression indefinitely. Or possibly even leading to their deaths.”

Murmurs once again rose from the students, this time in confusion. Cayden wasn’t one of those contributing to the sound – neither Jeremy nor Velic were in the class with him, and though he recognized a few of those with whom he shared Frontline Combat 101, he didn’t know any of them near enough to try and start a conversation in the middle of class – but he was certainly confused. He was sure the skill had some sort of limits, but from the description, he couldn’t figure out what they might be. Outright cheating death once per day? That seemed incredible! It would be hard to level, true, but who cared about that if the alternative was death?

“I’m sure some of you see the issue with this skill, but for those of you who don’t: remember, this is a class skill. A class only levels when all of the class skills are at their maximum, equal to the class’ level. And when you acquire a new class skill, it starts out at level one…”

Comprehension flashed in Cayden’s mind as he finally drank from the well that the professor was leading them to.

“As you can imagine, leveling a skill like [Second Chance] would be a difficult prospect. It is a combat-class skill, so like any other combat-class skill, it will level much slower when used outside of serious combat. While a soldier with [Second Chance] could progress the skill a small amount by having a trusted squadmate ‘kill’ them once per day, the gains would be minimal while simultaneously invalidating the entire purpose of the skill in the first place. A soldier isn’t always able to choose the time and place of combat, after all, and if they happened to ‘train’ their skill an hour before encountering an ambush from an enemy? It is useless. And so those who accept this skill are stuck, unable to level it beyond two or three. Until they get a full class reset, their [Soldier] class is forever stuck at level ten, unable to progress beyond where they were when they accepted [Second Chance].”

There was a note of genuine sadness in the professor’s voice as she said this, as if it was something she had personally witnessed many times before. Although from her age, that was definitely possible – she still moved spryly around the front of the classroom, and there was no weakness in her voice or bearing, but the ratkin professor was one of the oldest-looking people Cayden had seen in this world.

It had been strange when Cayden had first noticed it, but there were significantly fewer old people in this world than there were on Earth. He had originally taken that as a matter of course – this was a medieval-aged world in terms of technology, so it was only common sense that their lifespans would be lower. But an explanation of the stats quickly corrected that misconception.

Apparently, the average lifespan of people in this world was actually higher than that of Earth, but due to the benefits of vitality, most people didn’t look it. While hair could still whiten and wrinkles still form, a boosted vitality would vastly slow down those and other symptoms of old age, pushing back the maximum age to close to two-hundred years. Yet despite vitality being the stat almost everyone invested in, people rarely lasted that long.

Vitality helped people survive and heal from things that would otherwise kill them, but that only mattered if they survived. Even without monster attacks from dungeon breaks and other fantasy threats, there were plenty of ways for someone with a medium-high vitality to die: their house burning up around them, a poorly constructed building collapsing on them, famine, unknown diseases, cancer, war…

It was much more likely that the fickleness of life would kill people before old age ever got the chance. Even with stats, this was a brutal world, and seeing someone with extremely visible signs of old age was a rare thing. So Cayden was inclined to trust Professor Tawny’s experience when it came to the pitfalls of accepting otherwise powerful-seeming skills.

“Of course, there are exceptions to this,” Professor Tawny said. “General Quor is a famous one, leveling [Second Chance] to beyond level thirty and earning himself the moniker ‘The Unkillable’. But he is the exception to the rule – to level [Second Chance] that far, he constantly fought on the border of life and death, never allowing himself to cross that line more than once per day. Many soldiers have tried to mimic him only to get themselves and their squadmates killed by their reckless actions. It is much better to take a less flashy class skill that you can reliably train than one that offers a powerful immediate boost at the cost of future progression.”

“Ah, but I can see the question in some of your eyes,” Professor Tawny continued without pause. “Why would I caution you against such a skill when I have it have on my own status?” she asked, gesturing at the large blue projection, still displaying the description for [Second Chance]. She gestured, and the projection flashed, flickering to a new skill called [Pick-Up Sticks]. Before Cayden could read the description, it flashed again, changing to [Improvised Weapon]. And then again, and again, and again, until it was flashing so quickly between different skills that Cayden couldn’t read a single letter. “That is because I do not have [Second Chance], nor do I have any of these skills,” the professor said, and with another gesture, the blue menu disappeared completely. “That was simply a projection created by my [Display Skills] skill, one of the skills of my [The Future Generation] class.”

This time, instead of murmuring, the class fell completely and utterly silent.

“I would not ask something of you that I would not be willing to do myself. I will not share my entire status with you – a certain level of privacy is important, after all – but over the semester I will explain a large portion of my skills, past and present, as object lessons. I can only hope that you will extend to me a portion of that same trust before you decide to upgrade or choose a new class. I know that for some of you, for various reasons, this is impossible. For you, I urge you: be careful and deliberate when choosing any class skills, as they are not nearly as easy to replace as general skills. Consider all the possible ramifications, good and bad, of possessing the skill. And if you can’t trust me or another professor, find someone who you can trust to consult with on your potential build.”

She looked over the classroom one last time as if trying to further convince the students with the weight of her gaze. Some of the students around Cayden nodded back at the teacher seriously, but Cayden could see others who leaned back in their chairs, clearly unimpressed. Cayden could only imagine that they thought her pleas were an effort to steal their builds and discover hidden weaknesses. For all he knew, they could be right – he had no idea how cutthroat the politics within the academy might be.

Eventually, Professor Tawny judged she’d done as good of a job as she could impressing the seriousness of her message on the assembled students, and she nodded.

“Dismissed.”

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter