Emett:

The weather today was absolutely lovely as I walked the familiar dirt path through the woods to Grandmother’s house. A slight breeze blew through, just enough to rustle the leaves of the trees around me, and the sunlight filtered gently through the trees, gently lighting the path. Birds sang cheerily from their perches, filling the air with their symphony. It had all the makings of a perfectly peaceful walk through nature, except for the issue of my little sister’s daring choice of attire.

Lyn, beautifully stubborn Lyn, has gotten it into her head that she looks her best when wearing the red cloak Grandmother made for her. She’s not entirely wrong - the cloak is stunning. It is, however, just asking for trouble to be wearing it while she is carrying a basket full of goodies to Grandmother’s house. We’re going to be mauled by wolves. Or Grandmother is going to be mauled by wolves. Or the wolves will gather into an army and wage war against the Kingdom of Light, I don’t know, that’s just how these things work.

“You’re still thinking of the wolves, aren’t you?” Lyn asked.

“Of course I am! You’re basically inviting them to eat us!” I countered.

“Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t a magical wolf summoning cloak, and if it is, they’re more likely to be friendly than hungry.” Lyn flashed me a patronizing look.

“It’s not mag- ugh. You’ll see the power of Cliches soon enough, I guess.”

The argument died out as a familiar box appeared in the air before me. A Divine Notice. They’d been fairly frequent lately.

The Paragon of Light has bested the Paragon of Shadows in combat! Round complete! View combat log?

I sighed, and waved the notice away. “Oh, look, another round end. What did this one last, two weeks?”

“Somewhere around there.” Lyn scoffed. “This has also got to be the most boring log I’ve ever seen, though. Did you know they didn’t cast a single spell? Not even a special attack. They just...stood there and stabbed each other until one died, I guess?”

Another Divine Notice.

PATCH NOTES - PARAGON SYSTEM 2.0

-We have completely revamped the combat system.

-Physics have been disabled.

We hope you enjoy it!

“What does that mean? What the hell is a patch note?” I tried to open any sort of attached log or explanation for the notice. As far as I could tell, none existed. The birds fell quiet, but I paid it no mind while pondering what was going on with the Divine Notices.

“Well, I hope we never have to find out.” Lyn said disinterestedly, waving the notice aside.

You have been selected to be The Summoner for this new cycle! Congratulations!

God damn it, I could swear she was intentionally inviting the Gods to torment us with what she’s saying and doing today. “Too late for that, I think. Apparently I’m The Summoner.” I groaned. “I don’t want to be punched in the face, and that’s all The Summoner is good for.”

Lyn’s voice broke my train of thought. “And I’ve been informed I’m The Armsmaster. Looks like we’ll be stuck with each other for a while.”

The Armsmaster? But she’s a child. She’s 15 years old and has barely broken 5 feet tall. She’s rail-thin. And the system expects her to be an expert at doing battle? With weapons? The weapons are mostly bigger and heavier than she is! She isn’t fierce. She’s adorable!

“Are you okay, Emett? It was a joke. We’re already together basically all the time anyway.” Lyn sounded concerned.

Her audible worry snapped me back to reality. “It’s okay, I’m fine. It’s a lot, and very quickly, but we grew up in an Origin Village. We always knew this was a possibility.” I knew better than to bring my concerns with her being The Armsmaster up with her. That’s a conversation that would likely end in bruises, both on my body and my ego. “So what’s our next move? I’m going to work on the assumption that if we don’t get moving on this, events will conspire to force us to get moving on this.”

Lyn nodded. “I agree. I’d rather not play into the Gods’ sense of dramatic escalation.”

“So that rules out continuing our current path, as well as going home.” A twinge of guilt shot through me as I realized that we would, as far as our family knew, just vanish into the woods. I’d have to send a message back for them once we found civilization. I stroked my beard, thinking of other possibilities. “Maybe we should just head directly to the capital from here? The woods are pretty mild if we cut directly to a main road.”

“That should be fairly safe for everyone involved. Conveniently, we have some delicious baked goods at the ready to feed us on the trip.” She brushed her blond hair out of her face, and took a look into the basket of baked goods she was carrying.

“You’re right.” I frowned. Sure, now she can be smart about things. I checked the Map Notice the Gods provided. “It looks like we’ll hit the main road if we head that direction.” I pointed “And from there it’ll be a straight shot into a capital. About a day’s walk.”

“Hm...sure.” Lyn seemed distracted looking through the basket, and I assumed she was looking for lunch. That sounded fine to me.

While Lyn examined the basket, I took some time to familiarize myself with the system. Since I was a registered Protagonist, there were supposed to be some Notices I could open myself to get a better grasp of how powerful I was, how powerful I needed to be, and what I had, along with some other perks regarding relatively easy combat growth. After a few moments of fiddling, I managed to pull up an information screen about myself.

Status

Name: Emett

Class: Villager

Level: 1

Experience: 0

HP: 37 / 37

Evasion: 3

Accuracy: 98

Power: 33

Resilience: 13

Speed: 20

Agility: 13

Traits

The Summoner: Summoning abilities are more powerful. Access to Caller, Occultist, and Shaman without meeting requirements.

Abilities

Desperate Plea: Summon a random nature spirit at the selected area. May fail.

Desperate Evocation: Evokes a random elemental spirit. The elemental spirit is moodier than normal.

Desperate Invocation: Invokes a random elemental spirit. The invocation isn’t as powerful as normal.

Desperate Conjuration: Summon a random undead or demon unit. The summoned unit is aggressive toward all combatants, friend or foe.

Some of it was obvious to me. Yes, my name was Emett. The Summoner, checks. Stats, I needed to work out exactly what these mean, but they seem fairly straightforward. Power, presumably a measure of how hard I hit. I don’t have much of a frame of reference here, but it looks like the stories really weren’t kidding about the Summoner being vulnerable to being stabbed. Who knows how far my HP will go when I do get around to getting hit. What’s the difference between Speed and Agility, anyway? I didn’t remember any of these stats being mentioned before, but I guess it’s not the most exciting stuff to be writing epic sagas about.

I noticed a small button next to where it declared me to be The Summoner, and pressed it. The current information being displayed faded, replaced by a small list of...violent vocations, really, it looks like. All the different ways you can firmly ask someone to cease their incessant breathing. A few entries were highlighted in gold, standing out, but the majority of the list was gray question marks. The rest were white. I pressed on one of the highlighted entries, the Caller.

The Caller is a class revolving around the manipulation of elemental spirits. They channel the elemental power through themselves, as well as being able to conjure them into being for brief periods.

Would you like to change your class to Caller?

Well, that definitely sounded like a fit for being the Summoner. I held off on accepting the option, though, opting instead to take a look at the other highlighted entries.

The Occultist uses dark magic to call long-lasting evil servants to his aid, at the cost of his own personal capabilities. Though he can’t accomplish much on his own, he inherently brings strength in numbers to his team.

The Shaman is in touch with the spirit of nature. They are able to ask them for aid, creating zones on the battlefield to aid their allies and hinder their enemies.

All three options sounded interesting, though being an Occultist or a Shaman sounded like it would require a level of finesse I didn’t have. An exploration for another time, perhaps. I pressed on Caller again, and accepted it as my class.

Your class is now Caller!

Howl erupted again from the woods around us. The source must have been barely obscured by the trees.

You have been registered as a combatant!

“I told you about that cloak, Lyn! I warned you! Lunch is going to have to wait now!” I looked around on the ground, found a suitably-sized beating-stick to act as a weapon for whatever was coming our way, and picked it up, swinging it once or twice.

“Lunch…?” Lyn looked confused, but stood up, keeping the basket at the ready. Was she...planning on using the basket as a weapon? The howls gave way to growls and barks, and the world shifted.

Begin Battle Preparations