Chương 421: Chapter 420: Class System

The doors of the sanctum opened with that same bell-like chime, and I stepped out into the corridor beyond. Sure enough, a young woman in servant's robes was stationed just outside, sitting on a cushioned bench with the patient posture of someone who'd been waiting for a while. She immediately sprang to her feet when she saw me, dropping into a deep bow.

"Divine one, I am Ling Shuyi," she said, her voice carrying that same reverent tone I was getting used to.

"This humble servant has been instructed to attend to any needs you might have."

"How long have I been inside?" I asked, trying to keep my tone gentle. The poor girl looked nervous enough already.

"Three days, divine one," she replied without lifting her head from the bow. I frowned but wasn't really surprised. Time had a way of flying when you were deep in cultivation work, especially when you were going through a breakthrough or trying to master entirely new techniques. Three days meant I'd used up nearly half of my preparation time, but considering what Mo Yuhang and I had accomplished, it had been worth it.

"I need to visit the city's greatest collection of techniques," I said.

"The most comprehensive library of cultivation methods you have available." The servant hesitated, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Granting a divine being access to their most sacred techniques was probably above her pay grade, but refusing a god's request was definitely not an option either. Before she could figure out how to respond, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

The City Lord appeared around the corner, moving with the kind of stride that suggested he'd been nearby and listening.

"Divine one," he said, offering a respectful bow that was deep enough to show reverence but not so deep as to appear servile.

"I would be honored to escort you to the Grand Archive personally."

"Lead the way," I said, gesturing for him to proceed. As we started making our way through the city streets, I became acutely aware of just how much attention I was drawing. The moment people spotted me walking with the City Lord, entire conversations just... stopped. Like someone had hit a pause button on the whole street. Some people immediately dropped to their knees in reverence, their heads bowed so low I worried they might topple over.

Others just stood there staring with the kind of open wonder you'd expect from someone witnessing a miracle. The braver children peeked out from behind their parents' robes, their eyes wide with curiosity, though they quickly ducked back when they thought I might notice them looking. It was surreal being the center of that much attention, but honestly? I was probably more fascinated by what I was seeing than they were by me.

The cultivation world was all about individual advancement; everyone focused primarily on their own journey toward the dao, maybe working with others when it benefited their personal goals. Sects provided resources and protection, but at the end of the day, it was every cultivator for themselves. But here? There was something that felt almost... communal about the way cultivation integrated with daily life.

It wasn't just that everyone used musical techniques; it was how those techniques seemed designed to work together, to support each other rather than compete. Street vendors weren't just selling food; they were singing their wares into greater freshness or humming preservation melodies over their goods. A baker across the street was conducting what looked like a full choir of bread loaves, their crusts browning in perfect harmony with his baritone voice.

Even ordinary mortals seemed to have some basic musical abilities that helped them in their work.

"This is fascinating," I murmured, watching a group of children playing a game that involved singing flowers into different colors. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The City Lord beamed with obvious pride.

"Ah, divine one, you notice our class system! It is one of our realm's greatest innovations, inspired by the wisdom the Great Composer left behind." I looked at him curiously, encouraging him to continue.

"Every citizen, from the mightiest cultivator to the humblest mortal, has a designated class that defines their role in society," he explained as we walked past a woman who was literally singing a house's foundation stones into perfect alignment.

"That woman there is a Foundation Singer, specialized in construction harmonics. The bread baker we passed is a Sustenance Vocalist, trained in preservation and nourishment songs."

"And what about cultivators?" I asked.

"We have combat classes, of course - Battle Cantors, War Drummers, Siege Chanters. But also support classes: Healing Minstrels, Weather Weavers, Beast Tamers who use lullabies to calm spirit animals." He gestured to his own robes, which bore intricate musical notation embroidered in gold thread.

"I myself specialize in administrative harmonics; techniques for coordinating large groups and managing complex logistics." That explained the efficient way he'd organized the city's response to our arrival. Administrative harmonics sounded like exactly the kind of specialized application that would appeal to someone running a major population center. As for the design of this inner world, it was almost like looking at an RPG game brought to life, where every NPC had a clearly defined class and purpose.

Except these weren't NPCs, they were real people who seemed genuinely content with their places in the world. It made me wonder just who this Grand Composer really was…

"In my experience," the City Lord continued, drawing my attention back to our conversation, "this system prevents the kind of chaos that happens when everyone pursues only their own power. When a Baker Singer knows their bread-songs feed the city, and a Battle Cantor knows their war-hymns protect the Baker Singer, there's a natural harmony that keeps society stable." I nodded thoughtfully. There was definitely wisdom in that approach.

The cultivation world's emphasis on individual advancement had its benefits; it produced incredibly powerful individuals who could transcend mortal limitations. But it also led to a lot of conflict, backstabbing, and resource competition. How many promising cultivators died young because they were seen as threats by their peers, or worse, their elders? Here, it seemed like the focus was on everyone contributing their unique abilities to make the whole society stronger.

A Seventh Scale City Lord working alongside First Scale street musicians, all playing their parts in a grander composition.

"That's remarkably enlightened," I said, meaning it. Honestly, it would be nice if one day my inner world could run in a similar way. Right now it was mostly just me, Yggy, and Azure, with a few plants and that Dawn Ripple fish. But eventually, when it grew large enough to support civilizations, maybe I could implement something like this class system. Everyone working together, contributing their unique talents to strengthen the whole rather than just fighting for individual advancement.

The thought made me curious about where my current vessel, who lacked talent, fit into this supposed harmonious society.

"Mo Yuhang," I called out internally, "what's your class?"

"Divine one, I... I don't actually have a cultivation class yet," he admitted, his voice carrying the same shame I'd heard when he talked about his weak cultivation.

"I'm currently registered as a Resonance Crystal Handler. It's... it's manual labor, essentially. Loading and unloading the crystals that power the city's harmony networks." The way he said it made it clear this wasn't exactly a prestigious position. I could feel how much it stung his pride to admit that while other people his age were training as Battle Cantors or Healing Minstrels, he was basically doing warehouse work.

"Are you stuck with that class?" I asked.

"Or can you change it?"

"Classes can change," Mo Yuhang said, and I could hear a flicker of hope in his voice.

"But it requires years of study and demonstrated competency. Most people spend three to five years in specialized training before they can qualify for a new class certification. And that's assuming you can afford the tuition and find someone willing to teach you." I nodded. It really was like university degrees and career paths back on Earth. People could retrain and switch careers, but it took time, money, and opportunity - things that weren't always available to everyone.

"What cultivation class did you have in mind?" I asked. Mo Yuhang's mental presence brightened considerably.

"I've always dreamed of becoming a Harmony Scholar, divine one. It's a research and teaching class that focuses on understanding the theoretical foundations of musical cultivation. They're the ones who develop new techniques, improve existing ones, and train the next generation of cultivators." That made perfect sense, given everything I'd learned about him. His theoretical knowledge was already exceptional, and he clearly had a gift for explaining complex concepts in ways that others could understand.

"It suits you," I said encouragingly.

"Thank you, divine one. With the Symphony Core you've helped me achieve, I actually have a real chance now. Harmony Scholars need to demonstrate mastery of advanced cultivation theory, and having reached the Third Scale with such a powerful core... well, it proves I understand the fundamentals better than most people give me credit for." I could feel his gratitude radiating through our connection, mixed with something that felt like hope for the first time in years.

It reminded me why I'd chosen him in the first place, not for his current power, but for his potential and his character.

"When this is all over," I said, "I think you'll make an excellent Harmony Scholar." And with the pillaging that was about to occur, it was entirely possible I'd be able to help him soon achieve that dream.