John took a hesitant step forward. The familiar lanes sprawled out, but at the village green—where old elders sometimes gathered to talk—stood three figures framed in spectral light. They waited with patient solemnity, each exuding an aura of possibility. As John neared, his system’s script burst to life, invisible windows appearing above their heads with crystalline clarity.
The first was a towering figure clad in simple, heavy armor and carrying a gleaming sword and a massive shield.
Warrior
- Class: Warrior
- Primary Stat: Strength
- Rarity: Common
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
The second, a slight, quick-eyed woman dressed in gray-green leathers, lounged with twin daggers at her belt. She spun one lazily as she regarded John with a sly grin.
Rogue
- Class: Rogue
- Primary Stat: Dexterity
- Rarity: Common
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
The third, standing off to the side beneath the village’s only old tree, was a youth with a bow strung across his back, hands callused but gaze calm and sure.
Archer
- Class: Archer
- Primary Stat: Dexterity
- Rarity: Common
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
Each system window shimmered with color-coded highlights and convenience: the word “Very Easy” was accented in gentle green, as if hinting that John’s stats made these paths trivial—a remnant of the enormous growth and mastery he’d achieved before even stepping foot in the ascension ritual space.
Around him, the spectral village pulsed with quiet anticipation. John realized: these figures were not merely visions, but embodiments of the choices offered to every new ascendant. Here, the system’s most classic and foundational classes awaited—easy, accessible, promising quick progress and sturdy roots. Yet the pull in John’s heart told him he was searching for something rarer, something extraordinary.
For now, though, he stood at the heart of the system’s challenge, surrounded by the echoes of his past, face-to-face with the simplest branches on the mighty tree of destiny. The journey had only just begun, and the world awaited his choice.
Moving past the three figures in the square, John noticed that most of the spectral houses lining Cloudroot’s main lane had doors tightly shut, their windows glowing with an inviting but inaccessible warmth. Only one cottage stood apart, its door ajar, with a gentle golden light spilling onto the worn threshold. Compelled by curiosity—and perhaps a sense that the system itself was guiding him—John stepped quietly to the door and peered inside.
Within, the air shimmered with something different from the outside world: a timeless hush, the scent of parchment, beeswax, and something like distant incense. Inside, he saw the Sage, robed in indigo with silver runes, seated at a table strewn with scrolls and arcane diagrams. Next to him stood the Priest, radiant and calm, garbed in flowing white adorned with bands of gold and deep blue.
As John hesitated on the threshold, the Sage glanced up from his scroll, eyes bright with knowing welcome. Above the Sage’s head, the system window flickered into being:
Sage
- Primary Stat: Intelligence
- Rarity: Common (but rare in practice)
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
John felt the truth of it reflected in his own years of study—the countless nights in the academy’s library had made the Sage’s path an easy option, should he wish to walk it.
But it was the Priest who truly caught his attention. The Priest’s smile was gentle, eyes shining with empathy and resolve. Above this figure’s brow, the system’s window appeared as well, yet unlike the others, there was something new:
Priest
- Primary Stat: Willpower
- Rarity: Common (but rarely chosen)
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
- Note: Before choosing this class, you must select a faith.
Beneath this, the system displayed a faint shimmer of possible “Faiths”—empty placeholders, as if waiting for John’s input. He realized, even here in this world-between-worlds, that the Priest’s strength came not merely from power or study, but from devotion—to a higher calling, a doctrine, or perhaps even the mysteries of the ocean, light, or fate itself.
John lingered, sensing that to pursue the Priest’s path, he would need to make a choice not just of class, but of belief—a decision that would define not only his magic, but the very story he would tell about himself in days to come.
The village seemed to wait, suspended in gentle anticipation, as John stood at the threshold of wisdom and faith—on the brink of the truly uncommon.
But no, he had to reach for other heights.
Leaving the glowing village square and the easy comfort of the common classes behind, John let instinct guide his steps into the spectral woods at the edge of this dreamlike ascension world. The forest here was more alive than ever, branches dripping green shadows, every root and hush threaded with a pulse of system magic. Moving quietly among the trees, John soon saw unmistakable signs: a cluster of animal tracks so deliberate they could not be natural, then the faint gleam of eyes reflecting between the boughs.
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He followed, and before long, emerged into a clearing. There, standing tall and wild, was a figure cloaked in mottled greens and browns, a longbow slung across broad shoulders, sharp axes at their side, and a wolf moving at silent heel. Above this elite archer’s head shimmered a new window:
Hunter
- Class: Hunter (Elite Archer Branch)
- Primary Stat: Dexterity
- Rarity: Uncommon
- Difficulty for You: Easy
A dozen other spectral beasts and birds hovered at the edge of the clearing, as if acknowledging the Hunter’s dominion. The system's window confirmed: this was not the ordinary path of the archer, but a rarer mastery—a melding of marksmanship, tracking, and animal kinship. John nodded in recognition, feeling the tug of possibility but knowing his destiny lay elsewhere.
He pressed onward, leaving forest for shale and wind as he began the hard climb up the familiar slopes of Bluecrag Mountain. Stony switchbacks challenged his strength, but the air was clear and bracing. Near the high mountain pass, he discovered another figure: a massive warrior draped in gleaming scale armor, shield rimmed red with the paint of ancient war, two-handed blade strapped across broad shoulders. The ground seemed to tremble as this figure turned.
Champion
- Class: Champion (Elite Warrior Branch)
- Primary Stat: Strength
- Rarity: Uncommon
- Difficulty for You: Easy
The Champion’s presence was overwhelming, echoing with the weight of a hundred victories and scars. The system reminded John that, for all its prestige, even this elite martial path would scarcely challenge the foundation he had already built.
But still—where was the mage? John’s quest, after all, was not for steel or arrow but for the power that bent the rules of reality itself.
He searched, climbing higher, eyes drawn toward a familiar hollow in the cliffs—a narrow cleft, but here in the system’s world there was no secret oceanic fissure, no way to return to the crystal cave as he had in life. Instead, woven into the rocks like a memory, he found the low, weathered mouth of an ancient cave—the same shelter where, years ago, he’d found the leftover meat that saved him from starving.
Inside, the air was thick with a gentle blue mist. Stone shelves lined the walls, cluttered with old clay jars and yellowed books. By the faint flicker of magical firelight, a lone figure sat cross-legged by the embers, robes ragged and mind far afield from the rest of the world. This was not the formal image of an academy mage, nor the martial pride of the Champion, but a hermit—and above him hovered the window John sought:
Mage
- Class: Mage (Uncommon)
- Primary Stat: Magic Power
- Rarity: Uncommon
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
The class was uncommon yet the difficulty very easy, probably because of his higher stats in magic.
The hermit looked up, and in those eyes John saw depths of solitude, knowledge, and wild, untamed magic that felt closer to the storm than to any academy. Here was the path all others had hinted at: the solitary power, the raw foundation from which mythic destinies might truly arise.
John stood at the edge of the firelight, his heart beating fast in the silent breathless air, knowing that every step forward would take him further from the known—toward the precipice where his story would leap beyond all ordinary boundaries.
John left the dim, blue-lit cave where the hermit mage had sat by the fire—a fleeting glimpse of uncommon power, but not the greatness he truly sought. As the cave’s entrance faded behind him, John gazed upward, heart pounding with both anticipation and an ancient dread. Somewhere far above, the summit called—the very peak he had once risked his life to reach as a frightened child.
He began his ascent, boots crunching through brittle frost and loose shale. With every step, the air grew colder, the sky darker, and the wind sharper until at last, he emerged from a narrow chute and onto the exposed, icy summit of Bluecrag Mountain. The world atop the mountain was raw, wild, and unforgiving—the cold tore through his clothes like claws, and the howl of the hurricane wind was deafening, savage and ceaseless.
John dropped to his hands and knees, his body pressed flat against the slick ice as the gale threatened to rip him from the peak—just as it had when he was younger, vulnerable and barely clinging to life. He gripped the frozen stone, feeling the same sharp terror, but also the power thrumming within him—a reminder of how far he had come.
Slowly, he pushed himself upright, shielding his face from icy shards, his breath misting as he looked around. The peak was no longer empty. Four figures stood or hovered at cardinal points around the summit, their robes and auras shimmering with power so intense it seemed to warp the very wind and sky.
On the pinnacle itself stood the Ice Mage, tall and statuesque, draped in flowing robes of shimmering icy blue and white. Frost swirled at his feet, each exhalation a blizzard of snow crystals. Above his head, a glowing system window appeared:
Ice Mage
- Class: Ice Mage
- Primary Stat: Magic Power
- Rarity: Rare
- Difficulty for You: Easy
Not far to the right was the Earth Mage, solid and unmoving, as if grown directly out of the frozen mountain. His presence was like a living monolith—boulders and stones gently floated around him, orbiting in slow, ponderous arcs.
Earth Mage
- Class: Earth Mage
- Primary Stat: Magic Power
- Rarity: Rare
- Difficulty for You: Easy
Hovering just above the wind-scoured summit was the Air Mage, robes billowing impossibly in the updraft. He floated effortlessly, arms outstretched, manipulating the storm with a gesture. The air itself bent to his will, cyclones forming and dissolving with a thought.
Air Mage
- Class: Air Mage
- Primary Stat: Magic Power
- Rarity: Rare
- Difficulty for You: Easy
Finally, gliding above the roaring ocean far below him, was the Water Mage. She seemed half-merged with astral waves in the sky mimicking what happened far below, salt spray swirling around her. The depths responded to her presence, monstrous waves rising in her wake and crashing in awe.
Water Mage
- Class: Water Mage
- Primary Stat: Magic Power
- Rarity: Rare
- Difficulty for You: Very Easy
Each rare mage radiated mastery over their element, their presence shaping the summit into a place where the forces of nature met and clashed. Yet the system’s assessment—“Easy”—glowed gently above each head, a quiet acknowledgement of just how far John’s stats and oceanic gifts had set him apart. The Rare class of the Water mage was even Very Easy due to his affinity to the element. He could feel their challenge, and yet, for the first time, it was not fear that filled him, but the exhilarating certainty that whatever came next, the limits of the ordinary had already been left far below.