I had my first near-death experience.
I awoke that morning, anticipating the life-changing day I had ahead of me. Now, I had no idea how life-changing it would be, but just about everybody's twentieth was a big one. Not just for people aiming for a Class, either.
For most, their twentieth birthday celebrated the day they finally became an adult. One who would forge ahead, make their own decisions, and try their best to leave their mark on the world.
It was a largely symbolic celebration, but an important one nonetheless. But for people who wanted to acquire a Class, those symbolic sentiments became decidedly literal.
I was one of those people who was going to take their birthday literally.
I got off my lumpy mattress and exited the dingy room where I lived. I walked down the tavern stairs, each one creaking under my weight, and exited into the main barroom. Waving at the friendly owner of the cheap tavern, I left the building, skipping breakfast to save on food costs.
The reason I was saving money wasn't that I was poor; I had a job that, while not exactly high-paying, would have been enough for a modest peasant's life. No, the money I'd been stockpiling all these years had all been going toward something – this single day.
I wasn't going to let trivial things like discomfort take it away from me. My hands trembled as I fingered the dozen-or-so silver coins I'd collected in my pocket – my life's savings. Then, I took a deep breath and headed toward the edge of my simple village's walls.
I nodded to my employer as I walked past his blacksmith's shop. I wasn't a blacksmith, myself – or even an apprentice – I was just a manual laborer, carrying around metal ingots and working the bellows. I passed by the library, which was where I spent another bulk of my time.
I wasn't reading bard's tales or anything so luxurious – I was studying. Having a Class was an extensive responsibility, and one that took a great deal of effort to keep track of. Combat theory, arithmetic, long-term planning, and many other skills were necessary to make effective use of one.
So, the vast majority of my time was split between the blacksmith, reading the free literature at the library, and, of course, the sparring ground.
The sparring ground was the only non-survival expense I afforded myself. For a modest price, I gained access to training weapons, dummies, sparring partners, and, of course, the best Swordsman teacher in the whole village.
He was a retired adventurer who had reached Level 32 before coming to our village to live out the rest of his life in quiet peace. Thirty-two! He was the highest-Level individual I had ever seen.
I heard high-Level people like that were more common in the big cities, but out in a frontier village like mine, even seeing someone with a Class in the first place was rare.
Since he had the Swordsman Class, I decided that that was the Class I'd try to get for myself, too. Who else to learn from but the best, right? Besides, Swordsman was one of the easiest Classes to get, and it benefited a lot from raw physical strength, which I had a decent bit of from all my work at the blacksmith.
I smiled as I touched the handle of the longsword, sheathed at my waist. It wasn't exactly high-quality, but it'd get the job done for today. Besides, after I got my Class, I could start making some real money in the adventuring business, which would hopefully help me replace my pitiful gear.
After a few more minutes of walking, I finally arrived at my destination. I saw the man I'd agreed to meet with, steel plate shining on his body and a battleaxe fastened to his back. He had a woman standing next to him.
He waved, and I waved back, taking a deep breath to calm my excitement.
"Hey! Arlan, right? Hope you're ready for today!" He approached me and took my hand, shaking it. I nodded and shook back, trying not to feel intimidated by his iron grip; it was simply the results of a Classer's higher Stats.
He probably wasn't even trying to squeeze any harder than I was. He let go of my hand and introduced me to the woman he was with. "This is my partner, she's a Wizard,"
I nodded to her and held out a hand, but she didn't take it.
"Are you sure you are twenty years old?" she asked. "You know that if you are even a day younger, this will be a waste of time and money."
"Uh, yeah…" I said, taken aback by her abrasiveness. "Here, I'll pull up my Status window to make sure, if you really want me to."
Name: Arlan Nota
Age: 20
Strength: 10
Class: N/A
Level: N/A
Endurance: 10
Class Type: N/A
XP: N/A Dexterity: 10
Health: 100/100
Health/Minute: 0.042
Stamina: 58/60
Stamina/Minute 0.36
"Yep, it says my age is twenty." When I looked at my Status, I couldn't help but smile. Everything in bold was something that had changed since the last time I had looked at it, so I could see that all of my Stats had increased from 9 to 10! Of course, that wasn't due to any merit of my own; everyone in the world got one point of Strength, Endurance, and Dexterity every two years until they turned twenty.
So everyone that was at least twenty years old and without a Class would have the exact same Status as me – minus the name, obviously.
It wasn't like that meant everyone was exactly as strong and tough as everyone else, of course.
One of the first things you learned when researching the System was that Stats only added on top of one's own base abilities. So, someone with only 10 Strength could still technically beat a Classer with 50 Strength in an arm-wrestling contest, as long as the one with 10 had a much stronger body. It'd be pretty hard to pull that off, of course, but possible.
"Okay," the robed woman interrupted my thoughts, "and are you sure you want the Swordsman Class? There are no take-backs, remember. Once you have a Class, you cannot get rid of it, and you cannot get another."
"Yeah." I was starting to get frustrated with her. I knew all this already. "I'm sure."
"Relax, Arlan," the man chuckled and patted the woman on her back. His immense Strength Stat caused her to stumble and catch herself.
"She does this with everyone we get Classed. Had a few too many incidents with people asking for a refund after things didn't go their way. Speaking of, you got the payment?"
"Yeah," I walked over and placed the silver coins in his hand. My money-saving instincts were screaming at me to hold on to the large sum, to wait another day and make sure this was what I wanted, but I let go, and the coins fell into his hand.I was determined.
"Alright, now that the job's official, let's go over the plan. I know you're probably familiar with the process, but like I said before, we've been burned a few too many times to skip over it."
I nodded.
"So, to get the Swordsman Class, you're going to need to use a sword to kill a monster that's at least Level 10. Straightforward requirement, I know, but easier said than done." He was right about the Swordsman Class's requirement being straightforward. Some other Classes needed you to kill a specific type of monster, kill them under specific circumstances, or kill a multitude of different monsters in a limited timeframe. Just using a sword was child's play in comparison.
"You're not even Level 0 yet," he continued, "so if you tried to do that alone, you'd die before you could pull a blade from its sheath. That's where we come in.
We'll find a monster, get it to the edge of death, and then you come in and get the killing blow. The killing blow is all that matters when it comes to getting your Class, unlike how XP is earned according to your contribution to the fight."
"I do not think my partner emphasized that last part enough," the woman interrupted. "You are to get the killing blow, and only the killing blow. You are to stay out of sight for the rest of the battle. It does not matter if we look like we need help.
You, as an Unclassed, are so weak that joining the battle will only force us to worry about protecting you."
My face hardened. "Yes. I know I'm weak right now. But I'm not stupid. I won't come out of hiding until I'm sure it's safe."
"Good." The woman closed her eyes and breathed, seeming to only relax just now.
"We are to be fighting together, so we should get to know each other. I am Feiya, a Level 16 Wizard. I specialize in damage-dealing elemental Spells, with some additional Alteration Spells to temporarily make my partner stronger if things ever get messy."
"And I'm the one she uses those Alteration Spells on," the man nodded. "Name's Dorrn, and I'm a Level 18 Berserker. And I know the stereotype about my Class, but I'm really not that dumb and battle-addicted."
"He is only a little dumb," the woman – Feiya – added with a smile. Dorrn just rolled his eyes with a chuckle.