Heart racing, Alex wasted no time, forcing open every single massive barrel of poison that he could, racing for the end of the corridor towards the door now warping before his eyes, panicked fingers shattering jug after jug of glass and clay toxin as deadly chanting could be heard just beyond the doorway.

“Damn it, I have to be faster!” Alex berated himself aloud.

Finesse check failed!

He fell to the ground after grabbing a single jug of what could only be greek fire as the warded door at the end of the hall finally crashed to the ground with a titanic boom.

“Find the intruder and kill him!” Roared a baritone voice, and Alex’s guts twisted in panicked knots.

But he refused to let it effect him as he lurched for the door, flask in one hand, lantern in the other.

Arcane emanations successfully sensed.

And when he dared to peep around, seeing the handful of robed figures with thick bushy beards and glittering gems upon their foreheads, each of them surrounded by shimmering shields of force that Alex was somehow certain would ward the mage against any crossbow bolt or spear thrust. The perfect tools for a ship seige, and luck alone explained how a classless Alex had survived not one but two encounters so far.

Good thing he had neither crossbow nor spear, he thought grimly, tossing his packages even as the largest figure, dressed in shimmering black robes, pointed a black wand at Alex.

Alex froze, knowing he was looking at the equivalent of the barrel of a gun.

“You won’t find us as easy to take down as our fellows, spy!” The head mage roared before bending over and coughing under the effects of the fumes the caustic mess of compounds bubbling and hissing and now eating into the floor were releasing, a blast of lightning tearing a massive chunk of the planks just inches from Alex’s feet.

It seemed the shimmering field surrounding the mage did nothing to block gasses, which made perfect sense, as any field lacking a certain amount of permeability would asphyxiate the practitioner.

A heartbeat later, the flask full of pitch, naphtha, sulfur, camphor and ruptured upon the forcefields of the coughing mages, running down it like black dye over blocks of ice.

And a heartbeat after that, the lamp Alex had tossed made contact, and the corridor was suddenly a blazing inferno, surprised yells turning to agonized shrieks and choking gasps seconds later.

Feeling the heat even from where he stood, Alex wasted only a few final heartbeats gazing at the frantically windmilling figures smashing into eachother in the blazing corridor before falling to the poison covered floor, now hazy silhouettes in the multi-colored smoke cloud that Alex was somehow certain would be very, very bad for anyone lacking 100% immunity to inhale.

Greater Mage has perished as a direct result of your actions. Lesser Fire Mage has perished as a direct result of your actions. Lesser Water Mage has perished as a direct result of your actions.

Alex flashed a dark smile, feeling a surge of enemy’s potency coursing through him, before abruptly gasping and turning around, appreciating exactly what it meant to be standing behind countless crates filled with clay flasks of what amounted to greek fire.

Pausing only long enough to check the flasks of Magebane and greek fire that he had stolen, the latter with thin leather cords that Alex suspected were used to twirl the flask around for greater range before throwing, and also worked quite well for securing both types of flasks to his person, he quickly made his way to the bilge hatch and crawled through, at this point far more concerned with survival than collecting the jewels that had been on the foreheads of his targets.

It was pitch dark and filled with briny water, but Alex quickly felt the direction that would lead to the other end of the ship, spending a several painful hot moments directly under where the blazing floorboards would be.

You have taken 5 points of damage. No significant injuries suffered.

Breathing a relieved sigh through his nose as he made his way forward, half crawling, half swimming, the ribs of the ship and the slope telling him what he needed to know. His eyes widened as he realized that he had no idea where any other entrance to the bilge was located, feeling both relief and a sudden apprehension when what seemed to be blinding light pierced the gloom.

“Lord Feltur is down! Enemies must have snuck aboard. Quick, we must strike them from behind, poison the water supply, and head out with all haste. Our king and country are counting on us!”

“But sir, we can’t engage the ascend or descend with our wards on. Our grips are as slick as slippery ice!”

“Put on your wards when you’ve made it to the other side, fool! The hatch is safely hidden behind the crates. None will see you coming. And if our foes already have access to the all-fire, we’re all dead anyway!”

“Yes, sir,” said several subdued voices in unison, slowly making their way down the slimy steps into the bilge.

Alex, half submerged and surrounded by darkest gloom, took a quick swig from one of his flasks of poison, heart racing, muscles tensed and coiled as the first of several mages began wading his way forward. He did not act, though, not until first one, then another, then a third had cleared the steps, all of them making their way with tiny lights projected from silver orbs, for all intents and purposes acting like dim flashlights Alex easily avoided, focused as his targets were, straight ahead.

Stealth check made! +5 for limited light cone, peripheral noise, and panicked targets.

And just like in his favorite stealth games, it was nothing to slide forward just a bit faster than the slowest mage.

Heart racing, Alex could all but taste the nervous man’s panicked sweat, shoulders tingling as he prepared to make his move.

“We almost there?” said the man suddenly.

“Shutup, Giltoc!” snapped the man in front of him, not bothering to look back. “We’ll get there when we get there.

Giltoc inhaled to reply but couldn’t say a word as desperate hands slapped over his mouth before desperately feeling for the gem Alex prayed would act like the others, the man abruptly slamming his head back against Alex’s nose in a desperate bid to break free.

Your nose has been broken! Light Wound and 10 Damage Suffered!

Save versus stunning pain – success! You have managed to hold onto your target.

And then the message Alex had gambled his life with blared in his mind’s eye.

Lesser Icemage Relic has been exposed! Do you wish to claim Icemage’s potency?

Yes! He whispered fiercely to himself, feeling a sweet icy cold rush of power roar through him as his target’s gem came suddenly free and the man seemed to shrivel and die in his arms.

“Giltoc?” said the man in front of him, somehow sensing that something was amiss, beginning to turn around.

But Alex, berating himself for seven kinds of fool for making such an amateur move as to leave his nose exposed like that was already lurching forward, palm smashing into his target’s forehead.

The blow didn’t have to be any harder than a boxer’s jab. And for all that his foe hissed and easily blocked the first blow, Alex’s left fist jabbed against the silver-white jewel glittering in the man’s forehead, earning him a cut knuckle and his favorite message in the world.

Lesser Air Mage Relic has been exposed! Do you wish to claim Air Mage’s potency?

YES! He thought, before immediately declining the class, as he had the man killed moments before.

Unlike the others, this man’s eyes widened in horror, instantly understanding. “No. Please, no, don’t...” before wheezing hideously, eyes bursting, as if he had just been exposed to vacuum or at least his soul had, or it seemed to a suddenly horrified Alex as the man shriveled with a hideous wheeze, Alex suddenly filled with a hideous ecstacy that was now bordering upon pain.

Four souls directly absorbed. Three souls indirectly absorbed. Interface has limited storage capacity.

Your soul has limited storage capacity.

Recommend selecting class at earliest opportunity to quantize your growth and reduce soul-pressure.

Perception check made!

The farthest mage was no fool, already turning around, a handful of fire crackling in his right hand.

Fuck! Alex thought to himself as he raced forward, knowing he’d need a hell of a good luck role if he was going to survive. He didn’t let panic consume him, immediately ducking below the surface of the two feet or so of water they had all been wading through, praying it wouldn’t strike the surface enough to set off the flasks that were thankfully next to his stomach and with so many tons of water the fiery stream of death’s heat was quickly dissipated in the bilge water, not doing more than warming up Alex’s back as he swam for all he was worth, already growing dizzy as he got within a few feet of the mage, the man’s now white-hot stream of fire that was finally stinging against the back of Alex’s neck cut off as the man ran out of steam just Alex ran out of air, desperately popping up in front of the cursing man who was lunging at an exhausted Alex with a dagger he couldn’t do more than put a wobbly arm in front of.

Dagger has pierced your forearm! Dagger fails to knick artery or severe tendon. 15 Damage and Light Wound taken!

Alex screamed with pain, but not before spitting the contents in his mouth, the reason why he had to swim with such discipline despite the nose-breath he had gulped down, caustic poison shooting into the now screaming fire mage’s eyes, the man lurching back, dropping his dagger, shrieking as his flesh began to bubble and peel off, instantly blinded as he began to wheeze and choke, the poison exposure already inflaming his airways.

A furious Alex felt no pity, thanks to the agony in his arm, and didn’t hesitate to slam his palm against the ruby gem glittering upon the man’s forehead. getting his favorite message once more.

Lesser Fire Mage Relic has been exposed! Do you wish to claim Fire Mage’s potency?

“Yes!” He said the word like a curse, fearing what was to come, feeling a hot pain mingling with the ecstacy, realizing that he really was approaching whatever odd maximum limited him.

Soul storage will soon reach maximum capacity. You presently have no class. Do you wish to take on the class of Lesser Fire Mage?

“NO!” He angrily whispered

Refusal acknowledge. Note. 4 opposing elemental relics affiliated with Welton culture’s arcane traditions have been discovered. New class has been synergized. Lesser Elementalist Class is now available to you.

Alex frowned, washing out the last tingles in his mouth with the salty bilge water. He might be 100% immune to the poison, but it still stung like he was sucking on hot peppers, even if his eyes and sinuses were fine.

All in all, he was not a fan. But damn if it wasn’t effective.

He glared at his wounded forearm, surprised and grateful to find it wasn’t bleeding. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the injury was several hours old and had already scabbed over, but it still made him wince to use his arm. He could only hope that the injury wouldn’t be exasperated by whatever else he had to do to survive tonight. Speaking of which…

He cursed and filled his mouth with more of that toxic little cocktail he had put together, resigned to suffering through a blazing tongue as he made his way back to the open hatch, having grabbed one of the tiny magelights.

He slowly made his way to the edge of the hatch, crouched down, using the reflection off the shiny knife he had retrieved to quickly eyeball the room above.

It was clear, for the moment, though he heard shouting close by.

Wasting no time he sprung through the hatch, foot slipping on the rung turning a glorious acrobatic feat into a clumsy spill, poison stinging as it shot out his nose.

“You bastards better not be...”

A sailor lurched into view, cutlass in hand. His eyes widened, as did Alex’s, but not before he spat a stream of caustic poison into the man’s gem-free face, with the expected results.

Alex’s bare foot slammed down on the spasming man’s left wrist even as the right continued to claw at the bubbling mass of suppurating flesh that was the poor sailor’s face as Alex bent down and tore free the cutlass, finding it surprisingly comfortable in his hand, even if not weighted exactly like the training sabers his private fencing coach and he had sparred with the one summer he got into HEMA with his friends before putting it aside for other pursuits.

“Thank god I at least got fencing Rank 1 in there. Here’s to hoping it saves my sorry ass,” he said to himself. And perhaps it said something for his panicked state of mind, or simply a mind’s ability to overcome repeated trauma that he was phased so little by the sailors horrific death, back arched at an impossible angle, clawed hands gripping his own swollen throat throat.

Because all Alex saw was the flask of mead by the man’s hip, and he realized then that he was all but dying of thirst.

A furtive look showed no one else approaching and he drank deep of the surprisingly sweet drink.

You have found Mead. You are no longer dehydrated. You now have 20% immunity to ethanol alcohol and all intoxicating effects.

Alex smirked. It looks like his mother wouldn’t have to worry about him relapsing after all. Which kind of killed the fun of it, but hell. If he could make it through this mess, a life or afterlife of sobriety, good health, and the sweet joy of leveling up in a fantasy world would more than make up for not being able to enjoy indulgences like he once had. And the sweet rush of power he got with his kills was unlike anything his friends had ever hooked him up with, anyway. And it was probably a hell of a lot healthier.

Save for the whole overwhelming and rupturing his soul thing, of course. But the mundane sailor soldier he had taken down seemed to be a lot less potent than the mages he had taken out. So hopefully that wouldn’t be an issue. But even if it was…

He didn’t hesitate to fill his cheeks full of more of that wonderfully caustic brew he had complete immunity to as he took a quick look out of the small storage room he was in, seeing nothing but a dimly lit passage, several doorless entryways and the panicked yelling of a number of crewmen.

His nose wrinkled at the acrid stench of smoke, and he quickly raised the hood of the robe he had claimed, hoping no one would think to question one more scurrying mage, caught up as they were in their mounting panic.

With a deep breath through his nose, Alex braced himself and began walking down the corridor at a fair clip, his cutlass pressed against his robe as discretely as he could manage.

A sailor glanced his way.

Then ignored him, chasing after his fellows towards the smokier part of the ship.

Heart racing, Alex continued to briskly walk forward, feeling a sudden waft of fresh salty air just up ahead, a shouting mage clomping down the steps before losing his balance and collapsing to the ground, thanks to the forcefield Alex sensed crackling around him.

The man cursed and tried to right himself and Alex swore he heard a distant sailor laugh before darting away.

The mage’s cheeks were beat-red with embarrassment and fury. He turned to Alex, who had just grabbed a lantern from a nearby hook with his injured forearm now not bothering him in the least.

The mage’s eyes widened, his brilliantlife-gem flashing. “You. I don’t recognized you. Who are you?”

Alex said nothing, dropping his sword, right hand fumbling for a flask he had tied secured to well as the mage snarled “intruder!” and fumbled for a wand he had secured, both of them fumbling like fools before Alex finally pulled free his flask and threw it against the mage who smirked.

“Fool! Neither sword nor spell nor Cultivator’s fist will pierce my ward!” The man crowed as ash-gray liquid formed a pool by his legs.

His eyes suddenly widened. “No, no!”

Lightning crackled from his wand as Alex slammed to the ground.

And that was enough to set the greek fire ablaze.

The man shrieked, struggling to his feet, the liquid not touching him directly, but second degree burns were already forming on his skin.

That’s when a once more upright Alex charged close and spat his toxic brew in the man’s face, the poison bursting into toxic smoky fumes upon contact with the superheated naptha.

The mage immediately began choking and gasping, his arcane shield collapsing in his panic, at which point the naptha and sulfur settled into his skin, and he truly began to burn.

The poor man’s shrieks echoed through the ship, and Alex embraced the stupidity of the moment, charging forward on the boots he had seized from the sailor, leaning against the lip of the hatch, wincing in pain as heat washed over him, carefully stepping and unfortunately plunging his boot right into the greek fire, his hand only then managing to touch the now super hot gem, his hand receiving second degree burns but thankfully without touching the furiously burning sticky liquid itself.

You have suffered 10 damage and a Light Wound. Your boot is now on fire! The hem of your robe is now on fire!

Adept Elementalist Relic has been exposed! Do you wish to claim Adept Elementalist’s potency?

Yes!

You presently have no class. Do you wish to take on the class of Adept Elementalist?

No!

Soul Storage is at maximum capacity. Capacity will increase over the next 24 hours. No more souls can be absorbed until capacity increases, or a class is chosen.

Alex winced as he desperately leaped up the steps and smashed through the hatch, still not certain if it had been greed or just a desperate need to alleviate the man’s horrific agony with a quick death that had compelled him to risk dying by greek fire himself.

A quick furtive glance revealing half a dozen panicked, shouting men as he burst on deck. To both his relief he saw that the ship was still in port and had yet to dock.

No poisons could be unloaded yet, and if things went according to plan, casualties would be kept at a minimum.

Assuming he could survive the next couple of minutes, of course.

Alex’s eyes widened as he caught the nearest sailor’s gaze. “Fire in the hold!” He screamed, his burning boot giving credence to his words, amazed to hear his tongue form the syllables so adroitly as he raced for the starboard side of the ship.

And before any man could think to question him, he was already running for the starboard gunwale, sparing a single glanced back at the one man who saw right through his ruse.

Wearing a hooded robe, Alex could only make out the snowy beard and the crimson irises glaring back at him. Even in that split second, Alex could both feel the waves of magic radiating from the man, as well as his barely-contained fury. In those terrifying moments, Alex knew that should the man channel that fearsome storm of power surrounding him at Alex, he would be obliterated instantly.

But the nightmarish figure did naught but roar at the sailors gazing at a frantically sprinting Alex with poleaxed expressions.

“Bring me the head of that intruder, fools! Must I both obfuscate and destroy?”

But before the sailors could do more than put startled hands to the hilt of their cutlasses, he had already jumped over the side of the ship, praying he’d survive the leap.