With the last questions in his mind now sated and most of his Amaranth spent, Regis closed the tome and sat back on the ground to meditate. The sensation of falling only lasted for a moment and when he opened his eyes again, he was sitting beside the now dead campfire.

“Look who decided to grace us with his presence.” A somewhat jubilant voice sounded from his right.

“Is everything alright?” Quentin stepped beside Valerie, helping the dark elf get up from the ground.

Instead of answering, Regis patted his friend on the shoulder before reaching out to grab Valerie’s hand, spinning her around her heels in a dance like motion, earning a surprised laugh.

“Well, someone seems to be awfully happy,” Amanda said as she watched the events unfold with her eyebrows raised. “What happened? Did you win the magic mojo lottery or something?”

“I got a few upgrades, but more importantly; I unlocked several constellation charts.” The dark elf finally spoke, still giddy from the thought of what happened in his soul-space.

“Oh, do tell! I’m quite curious about what could turn even a grouch like you into a dancing monkey.” Cruz held her enchanted staff and walked closer, as if worried that the mercenaries scattered around the clearing might decide to spy on their conversation.

“Well, I first chose a specialization in spell weaving skill, unlocking wards.” He said while drawing in the air with his right index finger, leaving a floating smily face emoji in the air that glowed blue.

“Wards,” Fabien stepped closer, reaching out to touch the floating doodle. “As in ‘WARDS’ that create permanent magic?”

“That’s the one,” the young spell weaver nodded. “Then, my soul-space went bonkers and I gained the ‘Runic Spellblade’ constellation chart.”

“A spellblade variant,” Valerie muttered. “I’ve read about the common spellblade class and the elemental one, but I can’t say I ever even heard about that one.”

“I did,” Osmond spoke up as he let out a strange sigh while sitting down. “As its name implies, it relies on runes. From what little there was recorded in my family’s archives, it’s a ‘rare’ tier two class that revolves around fusing runic spells into one’s skin, turning their bodies into a living spell scroll of sorts to boost their combat capabilities. It’s quite peculiar as its strength depends entirely on one’s mastery over runes and spell weaving. We had records about the progression of its main branch, but only up to the fourth tier.”

“Your family seems to be quite well connected if you managed to get the records of a rare class that we haven’t even heard about.” Fabien noted with a slight envy in his voice.

“We only had records of it because one of my ancestors had a friend who held that class. There aren’t any in-depth records, only the names of the third and fourth tier it can be promoted to. Also, by the time it reaches the fourth tier, it’s rarity moves to ‘mythic’ by the way.”

“Oh shit.” The infernal siblings spat out a non-existent mouthful of water at the same time.

“Judging by their reactions, I take it that a ‘mythic’ ranked class is powerful.” Sophie joined in to the conversation, putting her freshly cleaned arrows back into her quiver.

“Anything ranked as ‘mythic’ is powerful,” Letty answered. “If we equal rarity rankings to potential and power, then every rank is twice as powerful as the one before it. Common classes should count as one, while uncommon ones as two. Rare is at four and mythic is at eight. Divine classes are at the top with sixteen times the potential and power of a common class.”

“Oh shit,” Khan joined into the cursing as he slapped his thigh. “How rare is the ‘bladedancer’ class you told me to aim for?”

“It’s an uncommon one that should turn into a rare one later on. It does heavily specialise in speed though. If I remember correctly, it’s one of the fastest melee combat classes.” Fabien answered in a matter of fact tone.

“Okay, I can work with that.” The Mongol youth let out a relieved sigh, turning back towards the rest of the group.

“So, you’ve unlocked a rare class. Is that what got you all giddy like a kid on Christmas morning?” Cruz jabbed at Regis with a smirk.

“Well, I also got to choose a specialization in my alchemy skill, unlocking its constellation in the process. After that, my soul-tome went nuts again and spat out the star chart of the ‘Loremaster’ path.”

“No,” Valerie looked at the young spell weaver aghast. “Please tell me you’re not actually go happy over getting that shitshow of a class!”

“Val,” her brother tried to calm the infernal woman. “It’s not that…”

“You heard as well I did, just how much of a bloody train wreck that class is.” Valerie slapped his hand aside.

“It can’t be that bad if Regis is happy, right?” Sophie stepped beside Amanda, asking in a low enough voice that it felt like a whisper.

“Loremaster counts as a joke amongst all ‘rare’ classes,” Valerie answered with her eyes still trained on the dark elf. “It’s a utility class with pretty much zero combat capabilities. How useful do you think it is in the middle of a war-torn country? We need every edge we can get in our fights, not…”

“Valerie,” Fabien raised his voice in a stern, almost commanding way. “Regis didn’t say a word about actually picking that class, but even if he did, it has nothing to do with us. Everyone is free to choose their own path.”

“But…”

“That’s enough! We didn’t escape the restraints of our own family, just to butt into other people’s lives. No one here’s been pointing fingers at you for wanting to become a ‘Sanguine Warlock’, so try not to be a control freak like father was.”

“I… I’m sorry, Regis!” The infernal woman apologised with her head somewhat lowered.

“It’s okay, Val. I know that it’s not exactly a well-respected class, especially amongst battle maniacs.”

“It’s not a weak one either,” Osmond spoke up as he used his robe’s edge to polish the black crystal of his cane. “Did you guys actually have a proper record of its capabilities, or are you just hating on it purely out of trend?”

“What do you mean?” Amanda looked at the shadow touched youth with a puzzled look.

“Well, we did have some notes mention it here and there, but we don’t really know much about it, other than it being a utility class with no combat power and that it’s third and fourth tier progressions are also called loremaster, just with an extra suffix or something.”

“Figures,” the pale youth sighed with a slight annoyance in his tone. “What about you, Regis? Do you know what that class is actually capable of?”

“Some of it,” the dark elf admitted. “Apparently, one of my ancestors reached the third tier with it. I know that it’s a utility class, and that it’s one of the few that has access to the ‘scroll scribe’ skill-line, along with the ‘law-scribe’ one.”

“The what and what now?” Khan scratched his head, not even trying to hide the fact that he didn’t understand anything of what was going on.

“Those two skills are the main reason why loremaster is a ‘rare’ class. The ‘scroll scribe’ skill allows them to create magic scrolls, while the ‘law scribe’ skill makes them indispensable when it comes to official matters. The contracts and law declarations created by a loremaster have immense binding powers.”

“I thought those skills belonged to the ‘alderman’ and ‘advocate’ classes.” Fabien admitted as both he and Valerie looked at Osmond with surprise written all over their faces.

“Yes, but loremasters also get them. We won’t always be fighting, you know? Once we actually get to settle down, having someone with those two skills will be vital to us. An arcane contract can spare us from a lot of unnecessary bullshit down the line.”

“Having someone around who can make spell scrolls is also nice,” Letty added with a smile. “And besides; even if Regis picks a utility class for his spell caster path, I can’t imagine him being defenceless. He can still learn spells, like anyone else, just without getting a battle related specialization ultimate. And that runic fighting class also sounded awesome.”

“She’s right about that,” Valerie admitted with a deep, yet hollow sigh. “But if he plans on ever going further in any fighter class while specializing in magic, things would get a lot more difficult. You know that attribute upgrades don’t just fall out of the sky. It’s hard enough to push one towards the threshold of one attribute, let alone three or four.”

“Yeah… about that,” Regis scratched his head. “I’m kind of, sort of already around twenty-five with my spirit and willpower attributes.”

“Oh, motherf…” Valerie tried to curse as Fabien hastily covered her mouth.

“How the hell did you get to twenty-five so bloody fast? I’ve been sacrificing corpses left and right, but I couldn’t even get above twenty-one yet!”

“Both of my crafting skills added one to my spirit and mind attributes when I reached the specialization threshold and another two when I formed their constellations.” Regis explained while he reached for his bag, seeing that the mercenaries and guards began to head over to the boats.

“I hate you so much now!” The young woman said in a low tone, her tail flicking to the side as she grabbed her bag and stormed away towards the dock with the others in tow.

“She didn’t really mean…”

“Come on you lore loving prick! The boat won’t row itself up the river.” Valerie yelled back as she jumped into the longboat.

“Yep. She definitely meant it.” Khan patted Fabien and Regis in the back as he hurried forward, tossing his knapsack into the boat before stepping beside the rope that held it in place.

The rest of the group took their places and began to row, Khan joining them once the boat got freed. That morning the river felt somewhat rowdier than before, pushing against the boat with a vengeance. A good hour of silent rowing later Cruz couldn’t stop herself to speak up with a clear sign of annoyance in her tone.

“So, how the hell are we going to catch up to Mr tall dark and dorky over here?”

“What do you mean?” Fabien asked back, still rowing like a madman.

“I mean, Osmond already told me before that I need to max out the main attribute of my class before being able to step into a higher tier. The question is; how the hell am I supposed to do that when I lack any extra constellations and the fuckers I kill won’t drop attribute orbs? How the hell am I supposed to get to twenty-five with my deftness and physique?”

“Sacrifices my dear,” Valerie stated in a matter of fact tone. “You can’t rely on heroic deeds to carry you forward and one can only get so many constellation charts. The only thing left to do is a solid mass corpse sacrifice. If you want to get a lesser attribute orb, I’d say ten or so 5th level enemy corpses should be enough. If you’re aiming for a minor attribute orb, then make it twenty-five to thirty 5th level corpses.”

“That’s an awfully specific number.” Sophie shuddered as she heard her companion’s casual attitude towards such rituals.

“Don’t get hung up on the details, little mouse. I’m pretty sure all of us will have plenty of chances to trade for a few attribute orbs in the following days.”

“What if I kill something that’s on the 6th or 7th level?” Khan joined in to the conversation. “How much will that get me?”

“Well,” Osmond cleared his throat. “Enemies almost always give shard slivers equal to their level. There’s usually an extra sliver or two if they had something different about them compared to others, like a higher attribute than the norm or some-such. If we’re talking about corpse sacrifices for attribute orbs, then each level of difference should lower the required number of corpses by two.”

“Which is to say that each rank is worth about twice as much as the one beneath it. If you need thirty 5th level carcasses for an orb, then you need fifteen or so 6th level ones for the same orb.” Regis cleared up the strange explanation.

“No wonder that there are so few high tiered warriors and mages if it’s such a hustle to level up.” Said Amanda as she pulled the paddle towards herself.

“It’s always hard to make fast progress in peaceful times, but a war like this is going to give rise to a lot of powerful people,” Valerie gave out a lethargic sigh. “You have to understand that not everyone has moral standards like you do. It’s going to take a lot of effort for you to keep up with the rest of the people, if you keep up your goody two shoes attitude.”

“Val,” her brother called out to her. “Don’t strong arm them into something they don’t want to do.”

“Enough with the corpses and whatnot,” Cruz stopped the argument before it could even start. “Row faster if you want to get there sooner.”

“Agreed.” Khan joined in, along with Osmond.

As time went by, the group of outlanders rowed with renewed vigour and determination, hell bent on reaching the first stop of the day as soon as possible. An arcane shield popped up from time to time, only to get shattered by another. After about 4 long hours they reached the next jetty.

“There it is!” Quentin pointed at the dock further up on the river.

“Is that a corpse floating in the water?” Letty asked, everyone’s gaze following to where her finger pointed towards.

“Yep, it is a corpse alright!” Her sister nodded.

“I’m honestly not really surprised to see them floating about. We are nearing a battlefield after all.” Said Osmond with a dark tone.

“Are we really sure about this?” Sophie asked as she kept staring at the bloated carcass that slowly floated down the river. “I mean, there are other ways to go inwards the continent and to get stronger. We just managed to survive one the besieged town. Do we really have to go into another one?”

“This is the only option we have right now.” The wannabe paladin patted the young sun elf’s shoulder.

“Yeah, so what’s going to be the first place on our agenda? Are we going straight for the inner town or are we going to start looting right away?” Amanda tried to distract her friend.

“According to Jakub, we’re going to start at the marketplace,” Fabien talked and rowed at the same time, his motions fully synced with the rest of the group. “He said it takes about 15 minutes to reach the inner gates from the docks.”

“Khan, the rope.” Quentin reminded his comrade as the boat neared the jetty.

The young fighter leaped out of the longboat, grabbing the rope that was thrown his way to tie it to a thigh thick wooden pole. With the boat secured, the group could now safely disembark.