The remainder of the ride had been just long enough for me to learn something important: the Bestiary didn’t include every detail about recorded creatures. For example, it mentioned that woolves were domesticated—but it didn’t explain that farmers used them to guard sheep, and that they'd usually own around 3 of them in their herds since they're extremely expensive.
Keyword, 'usually'.
A certain Lv.63 lady knight had taught me about exceptions to rules. This way if I were to ever encounter a person with five, twelve or more woolves, it'd be safe to assume that their economical status is generous or their influence is high.
Not long after that, we finally reached the city gates.
Its walls were… unusual. Not circular, but not shaped like a square either.
Something closer to an octagon—or maybe even a star-shaped design. From my current angle I couldn’t fully tell, so I mentally promised myself to investigate—once I unlock flight or something.
The gate was massive and impossible to miss. There weren't many people lining to enter either, so the reinforced wood bound with thick metal plates, tall enough to allow an entire army to march through without slowing, was easy to inspect.
So far this city screamed preparation and defense.
Almost perfect.
Almost.
Because movement caught my eye atop the walls. A figure.
Someone leapt outward—from inside the city.
My breath caught.
The man dropped more than ten meters without hesitation.
"Is he insane?!"
Then his arms spread wide, fabric unfolding as the wind caught beneath it. A glider carried him smoothly away from the city, drifting toward the river I had come from.
I stared, dumbfounded.
“…Who jumps off city walls for fun?”
Zarra sighed beside me. “That,” she said, “is the unique Assassin class I mentioned earlier.”
“Unique class?”
She glanced at me sideways.
“You truly don’t know?”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Danger. Suspicion detected. Must improvise something...
“Well, where I come from people mostly craft things,” I said quickly. “Blacksmiths, carpenters, painters… peaceful professions. Our ‘classes’ are more… lifestyle choices.”
She considered that for a moment, then nodded.
“Ah. I understand.”
Crisis avoided. Good job, me!
“For us,” she continued, “a Unique Assassin is someone who has mastered both Rogue and Archer paths. Rather than saying, ‘I am flexible in honor and attacks,’ they simply take the title Assassin.”
Her tone suggested she didn’t entirely approve.
“So,” I asked casually, “what about you? I assumed you were a knight.”
She laughed softly.
“Do I appear that obvious? Knight is merely my title. Warrior is what my class is!”
“Warrior?” I tilted my head. “Isn’t that basically the same thing?”
"You really do not know combat, do you?" she mocked.
“A Warrior is a fusion of Swordsman and Tank. Unlike assassins, who gain advantages with no sacrifice, warriors must accept trade-offs.”
She tapped the shield on her back.
“We sacrifice some offensive power from the Swordsman path and some defensive capability from the Tank path. Heavy tower shields are replaced with smaller ones to improve mobility.”
“That’s so cool!” I said, leaning forward slightly despite the protest from my shoulder. “What other classes are there? And—what’s an Executioner? What do they actually do?”
Naturally, I picked the class tied to my scythe. Yes, I already had the Weaponry & Classes tab. Yes, I technically knew more than I was letting on. But asking about my own weapon was perfectly reasonable.
Suspicion avoided. Probably.
Zarra glanced at the scythe being carried alongside our supplies and nodded.
“Ah. Of course you’d ask about that one.”
My brain immediately started a drumroll. Come on. Tell me how legendary it is. Tell me it’s rare. Tell me it’s terrifying!
Zarra continued calmly.
“…They’re braindead.”
“…Huh?”
I blinked.
Excuse me? Did she just call me braindead? No, no. Obviously she meant the class. Definitely the class. Still—
“WHAT?” I repeated, louder this time.
She cleared her throat politely.
“My apologies. That sounded harsher than intended.” Her tone remained professional. “Executioners excel in confined environments—mountains, corridors, dense terrain. Outside of those conditions, however, they struggle.”
My excitement deflated slightly.
“They rely on overwhelming force,” she continued. “Heavy swings. Brutal momentum. Their combat style focuses on destabilizing the battlefield itself rather than precise strikes.”
She gestured vaguely, as if mimicking a massive downward blow.
“Effective when enemies cannot evade. Less effective in open terrain where speed and range dominate.”
Ah. So not actually braindead.
Just…
Explosive. Destructive. And completely useless if my strikes cannot create some sort of earthquake.
I slowly leaned back, processing that.
“…So you’re telling me my weapon specializes in smashing everything around me until something stops moving.”
Zarra very deliberately looked anywhere except at me.
Interesting...
"Are you hiding some extra details about it perhaps?"
Normally my brain would’ve short-circuited from being this close to her, but this time my emotions sat back, relaxed, and allowed curiosity to take over. I leaned a little closer, trying to catch her gaze. She looked away, so I dashed in her face. She looked behind, so I jumped above her, back in her face with only one single "Ouch". She turned one more, staring into the ground to avoid me, so I invaded her personal space, pushing from below, against her forehead with my own while glaring at her with unwavering seriousness;
"Geeeeeeeeeeeeee~"
??( ,,?'︿'?,,)
“NEXT!”
The shout from the gate guards cut through the moment like a blade.
Both of us snapped forward at the same time.
It was our turn.
The duel of eye contact ended, just when I was about to win.
