Chương 64: Chapter 49: Choices (Part 2)

The boar didn't want to die. It had already bled for half a mile, steaming in the cold as it forced its way through knee-deep snow, body low and stubborn, shoulders like a moving boulder. The wolves had harried it from both sides, snapping at its flanks and forcing it off clean lines, while Hunters kept it from turning back toward thicker cover. Every time it tried to stop and fight, something nipped it, not deep enough to kill it, only deep enough to keep it moving. Grub kept pace behind the line, riding Sable.

The snow outside had changed in the past weeks. It was still deep, but it no longer fell with the same steady certainty. The sky had been clearer more often. The air had begun to carry a faint wetness instead of only biting through fur and hides. In sheltered places the crust on top of the drifts now softened by midday, and the wolves left darker pawprints where meltwater had slicked the surface. It was subtle, but Grub noticed subtle things. Winter was still here.

But it had finally started to loosen its grip on the forest. The boar stumbled as Ashpaw clipped its hamstring with a quick bite. It tried to power through, but its back leg dragged wrong, and its stride turned uneven. The wolves surged forward. The Hunters closed in. A spear flashed, biting into its shoulder to keep it from twisting. It dropped to one side, its legs giving out beneath it. Grub felt Sable tense, ready to launch.

"Not yet," he breathed, and she held, ears forward, eyes bright. The boar heaved itself up again, only to stagger sideways into a half-buried rock. Its head dipped. Its breath came out in thick, ragged bursts. This was the moment. Grub scooped a stone from his pouch and felt its weight settle into his palm. He watched the boar's head, the angle of its skull, the way it tried to lift its tusks for one final charge that never came. He focused and struck. Pebble Toss activated and the stone snapped from his hand.

It hit with a sharp crack against bone. The boar jerked and stumbled, confused more than wounded, and tried to rise again. Grub cast again, then again, each cast timed to the lurch of its head so he didn't waste impact on thick shoulder or bristled hide. The boar collapsed fully on the fourth cast. Its breath stuttered, then stopped. The world went quiet for a heartbeat, as if the forest itself had been waiting to see whether it would rise again. Grub heard the chime echo in his head, then a second one right after.

A notification blinked in the corner of his vision, but he didn't open it yet. He watched the pack move in carefully. The wolves circled, still focused. Hunters moved in slowly, spears ready in case the boar had one last thrash in it. Ashpaw stood with his head high, gray-dusted paws planted in the churned snow as if the clearing belonged to him. The Hunters began the work of cutting and binding. They lashed the boar's legs, looped rope under its belly, lifted it onto a sled, and prepared to drag it home.

Only then did Grub finally let himself glance at the notification. [You have slain Boar - Level 6. Experience Earned.] [Congratulations! You have reached Level 5.] [3 Stat Points Available.] [Proceed to Stat Allocation] [Class Selection Available.] [Choose your Path.] Grub's heart kicked once, hard. He forced himself to breathe steadily, then closed the windows without selecting anything. Not here. Not outside.

He had learned that the System could steal his attention at the worst possible moments, and even though the forest felt quiet, quiet was never a guarantee of safety. He could already feel the pull of the decision waiting, like a hook behind his ribs, but he shoved it down. He would handle it inside the cavern, in warmth and safety. He mounted Sable for the return run, letting the Hunters drag the boar at a slower pace behind the wolves. The ride back took time, but time did not feel wasted.

He watched the forest pass, branches bowed under snow, the occasional drip of meltwater falling from pine needles, and the faint dark lines where rock showed through thin spots in the drifts. When the cavern mouth finally came into view, the barricade stood crusted with wind-packed snow. The tribe's tracks cut through the drifts in a stamped-down path that had become familiar, almost permanent. A plume of smoke rose cleanly from the vents, thin and steady.

Inside, warmth surrounded him, chasing away the winter chill. The cavern smelled of ash, meat, and resin, with the sour-sweet undertone of the fermenting Thornbrew tucked into its shaded corner. Drying racks hung heavy with strips of meat. Bins and bundled supplies lined the walls in careful rows that had not existed before. Builders worked near the slowly emerging storage hall even now, stone dust clinging to their hands.

The Medics moved between hearths and the alcove, mixing more supplies before checking a cough here, a bandage there, not waiting for rot to appear. Life in the cavern continued in the strange new rhythm that Grub had introduced to them. Grub found Dravak sitting in his seat near the main fire, the Chief's presence anchoring the cavern the way it always did. He was listening to something one of the Hunters was saying, attention focused. Grub approached and waited nearby until Dravak looked at him.

"I finally hit Level five," Grub said. Dravak's eyes narrowed.

"Now?"

"Just now," Grub replied.

"On the hunt." The Chief held his gaze for a long moment, measuring, then gave a short nod.

"Good. Go on then. Choose your path." A few nearby goblins overheard and looked over. Some looked curious. Others looked wary. Most looked like they were trying to understand what hitting Level five meant without admitting they did not know. Grub kept his voice even.

"I'm going to handle it in private," he said. Dravak snorted, as if privacy was a strange luxury, but he didn't argue.

"Do it," he said.

"Then tell me what you become." Grub inclined his head and moved away from the fire, deeper into the cavern where the noise dulled. He found a spot near the storage hall, close enough that the Builders were in sight, far enough that no one was likely to hover. He pulled the System window back up. [You have reached Level 5.] [3 Stat Points Available.] [Proceed to Stat Allocation] [Class Selection Available.] [Choose your Path.] First thing first.

He distributed his Stat Points, two into Wisdom, and one into Intelligence. Mana: 34/100 (+9/10 mins) Much better. He felt the effects of his progress, comparing it to what he'd had when he first woke up here. He moved back to the System window, mentally selecting [Choose your Path]. The screen flickered and shifted. Seven options unfolded beneath it. [Class Selection] Earthshaper"The stone remembers the hands that shape it." Earthshapers anchor their people.

They excel at raising walls, carving stone, reinforcing homes, and turning bare caves into strongholds. In battle, they are slower and less flexible than other paths, but their magic makes fortifications sturdier and allies harder to break. Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity spells will be reshaped toward reinforcement, construction, and structural endurance. Offensive effects may diminish as durability and shaping precision increase.

Stat Progression per Level: +1 Constitution +1 Strength +1 Wisdom +1 Free Point Stone Reaver (Special)"Even mountains can be made to kneel." Stone Reavers channel the earth as a weapon of overwhelming force. They do not shape stone. They tear through it. The ground splits at their command, rock erupts in violent bursts, and enemies are crushed beneath unrelenting impact. Their power is direct and uncompromising. Each spell favors magnitude over subtlety, turning terrain into devastation and opposition into debris.

Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity spells will intensify in scale, impact, and destructive force. Utility and shaping applications may diminish as raw power increases. Stat Progression per Level: +2 Intelligence +1 Constitution / +1 Wisdom alternating each Level +2 Free Points Stonebinder"The ground beneath your feet belongs to me." Stonebinders specialize in control. Their magic binds, pins, and disrupts, forcing enemies to stumble, sink, or lock in place while allies strike.

They reshape terrain in subtle but decisive ways, turning stable ground treacherous and solid footing unreliable. Precision defines this path. A single well-placed shift in the earth can decide a battle before it truly begins. Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity spells will shift toward restriction, terrain manipulation, and movement control. Direct damage may decrease as tactical influence increases.

Stat Progression per Level: +1 Strength +1 Wisdom +1 Intelligence +1 Free Point Earths Disciple (Special)"Stone does not only obey. It speaks, if you will listen." Earth's Disciples walk a path of attunement rather than dominance. They listen before they act. They feel before they strike. The earth is not a tool to be forced, but a force to be understood. Those who follow this path deepen their connection to the element itself.

Their power grows through awareness, experimentation, and personal direction rather than rigid specialization. Growth is steady, but mastery demands intention. Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity spells will remain unchanged. Their evolution and application will be guided by your choices rather than predefined discipline. Stat Progression per Level: +1 Intelligence +1 Wisdom +1 Constitution / +1 Dexterity alternating each Level +2 Free Points Woundkeeper Did you know this text is from a different site?

Read the official version to support the creator.

"Death begins with the wounds no one understands." Woundkeepers preserve the strength of their people. They read injuries, recognize sickness, and act before minor wounds become fatal. Their path favors patience, precision, and the careful use of limited resources. In battle, Woundkeepers excel at keeping allies alive, stabilizing the injured, and recognizing weaknesses in living bodies. They lack the direct power of more aggressive paths, but a tribe guided by one can endure losses that would cripple others.

Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity Spells will remain available, but future growth will favor precision, protection, and stabilization. Skills related to Medicine, diagnosis, herbal treatment, and recovery will develop more readily. Stat Progression per Level: +1 Constitution +1 Intelligence +1 Wisdom +1 Free Point Packwarden"No hunter runs alone." Packwardens fight and hunt beside beasts whose instincts become extensions of their own.

They excel at mounted movement, coordinated pursuit, and directing companions who act through speed, scent, and tooth rather than spoken commands. Their strength lies in cooperation. A Packwarden and a trusted beast move more effectively together than either could alone, striking from unexpected directions, running down fleeing prey, and guiding others through terrain that would slow an ordinary warband.

Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity Spells will develop toward mobile casting, pursuit, trapping, and cooperation with bonded beasts. Your connection with animal companions will deepen, though part of your growth will depend upon the strength of those who fight beside you. Stat Progression per Level: +1 Constitution +1 Dexterity +1 Wisdom +1 Free Point Tribal Strategist (Special)"Strength wins the battle. Foresight decides which battle is fought." Tribal Strategists see conflict before weapons are drawn.

They study terrain, resources, enemies, and allies, then turn each advantage toward a chosen end. Their strength does not lie in commanding through fear or overpowering opposition alone, but in understanding what must change before victory becomes possible. This path favors preparation, adaptation, and leadership. Tribal Strategists excel at coordinating others, recognizing consequences, organizing limited resources, and finding answers that preserve strength rather than spending it needlessly.

Upon selection, your existing Earth-affinity Spells will remain unchanged. Future Skills, Perks, and Spell Evolutions will favor tactical flexibility, terrain awareness, coordination, and the deliberate application of force. Personal combat growth will depend heavily upon the direction you choose for yourself. Stat Progression per Level: +2 Wisdom +1 Constitution / +1 Dexterity alternating each Level +2 Free Points Grub read the list once. Then again. Then a third time, slower, forcing himself to think.

He looked over each option in turn, considering. Earthshaper.

"The stone remembers the hands that shape it." He didn't need the Class to tell him what that meant. He had already shaped the cavern. He had raised the windbreaking wall at the mouth and carved vents to carry the smoke upward instead of letting it choke the tribe. Earthshaper would make him better at that work. Its Stat progression was steady and practical: +1 Constitution, +1 Strength, +1 Wisdom, and one free point each level. Extra Health, extra Stamina, and a small increase to Mana Regeneration.

It was dependable growth that would steadily increase his survivability. If he chose it, his Spells would shift toward reinforcement and structural endurance. Grub wasn't entirely certain how he felt about that. He had grown used to his current Spell list, and having them change would mean learning them again in a different form. The Class also promised that, over time, their development would continue to favor stability over force. That had clear advantages. A stronger cavern meant safer winters.

Better defenses meant fewer deaths. But it would also tilt his magic quietly and consistently in that direction. Each level would deepen that bias. He could already build without the Class. Earthshaper would simply ensure that building became the center of his power. So he moved on. Stone Reaver (Special)"Even mountains can be made to kneel." The Stat line drew his attention first. +2 Intelligence at every level. That alone would accelerate his Spell growth faster than any other option.

Intelligence fed his magic directly, granting more Mana, more power, and greater control. Every Spell he cast would scale faster. The alternating Constitution and Wisdom would keep him durable while also supporting sustained casting, and two free points each level would give him room to refine weaknesses or double down on strengths. It was aggressive, efficient growth. Then he read the Spell direction again. His Spells would intensify in scale and destructive force. Utility might diminish.

He thought briefly of Stone Chip. Before its evolution, he had chipped carefully at stone, scraping and shaving rock away in small increments. The Spell had been precise and controlled, but useless in a fight. When it evolved into Stone Fragmentation, the change hadn't removed its value when carving away at the stone. It had simply altered how that work occurred. Instead of scraping, he fractured. Instead of gentle removal, he used directed bursts.

The work became louder, rougher, and less precise, but it carved faster and deeper. And it could wound in combat. That memory shifted the temptation somewhat. Stone Reaver wouldn't instantly make him incapable of continuing to alter the cavern. It would simply make the work more forceful and less delicate. He could fracture chambers open instead of shaving them carefully, and collapse sections intentionally to remake them. With discipline and creativity, he could still build. In battle, the advantage was obvious.

Enemies wouldn't face mere pebbles and shifting sand. They would face erupting stone and overwhelming force. Stone Reaver would make him decisive. Aggressive. Powerful. But it would also begin biasing his magic toward destruction with every level gained. The farther he advanced, the more natural that force would become, and the more effort subtle work would require. Grub forced himself to keep reading. Stonebinder.

"The ground beneath your feet belongs to me." Its Stat progression was balanced: +1 Strength, +1 Wisdom, +1 Intelligence, and one free point each level. Respectable growth, though not explosive. His Spells would begin favoring restriction and terrain manipulation. There would be less raw damage and more control over the battlefield, pinning enemies in place and destabilizing the ground beneath them. He could see the uses immediately. A charging boar halted mid-lunge.

An enemy stumbling in the snow at exactly the wrong moment. A deer tripping where a spear waited. Stonebinder would undoubtedly make the tribe deadlier when they fought together. But the Spell bias was also clear. Over time, his magic would shift to prefer restraint over force. It would grow better at controlling the field of battle, at setting the stage rather than delivering the final blow.

He had survived this long by setting the stage, by thinking and planning, but he wasn't certain he wanted to remain there forever. Earth's Disciple (Special)"Stone does not only obey. It speaks, if you will listen." He studied the Stat progression carefully. +1 Intelligence each level. +1 Wisdom each level. +1 Constitution on one level, +1 Dexterity on the next. Two free points each level. It wasn't explosive growth, but it wasn't weak either.

Intelligence would continue strengthening his Spellcasting, while Wisdom would improve his control and regeneration. The alternating Constitution and Dexterity meant his body wouldn't be neglected either, giving him durability one level and agility the next, both useful for improving his survivability. Combined with the two free points each level, the growth was flexible and well rounded rather than narrowly focused. Then he read the Spell line. His Spells would remain unchanged.

Their direction would be guided by his choices. He read that sentence twice. Every other path so far promised improvement by narrowing his magic toward a purpose. Earthshaper would push his Spells toward reinforcement and endurance. Stone Reaver would favor destruction and impact. Stonebinder would guide them toward control and restraint. Earth's Disciple promised none of that. No automatic tilt. No quiet push toward construction, destruction, or control. His Spells would become what he made of them.

If he fought more, they would grow deadlier. If he built more, they would grow steadier. If he experimented, they might evolve in ways he couldn't yet predict. The Class didn't promise mastery in any one direction. It promised the freedom to pursue any of them. Grub lingered over it longer than he had the others. Then he forced his attention onward. Three paths remained, and the next reached back toward one of the first roles he had taken upon himself in the cavern.

Woundkeeper"Death begins with the wounds no one understands." Grub's attention lingered over the words. There had been a time when the Class might have been difficult to refuse. He remembered crouching beside wounded goblins with little more than scraps of human knowledge and whatever herbs he could identify. Cleaning bites. Binding cuts. Watching for fever because no one else knew what the heat beneath the skin meant.

Before the four Medics received their designations, Grub had been the closest thing the Ironfang possessed to a healer. Woundkeeper acknowledged that part of him. Its Stat progression suited the role well. Constitution would make him harder to kill, while Intelligence and Wisdom would strengthen his Mana, awareness, and judgment. A healer who collapsed beside the first wounded goblin helped no one. A healer who survived could preserve the strength of the entire tribe.

The Class would also encourage Medicine, diagnosis, herbal treatment, protection, and recovery. All useful. But Grub had already begun stepping away from that work. The Medics no longer needed him hovering over every cut and fever. They examined wounds themselves, prepared treatments, organized their herbs, and recognized whether an injury was improving or growing worse. They still lacked some of his knowledge, but they no longer depended upon his hands for every decision. That was exactly what he had wanted.

He hadn't taught them so that he could remain the tribe's healer forever. He had taught them so the Ironfang wouldn't lose every scrap of medical knowledge the moment he was elsewhere. Woundkeeper felt like a nod toward the goblin he had been during his first weeks in the cavern. That goblin had mattered, but Grub had continued moving. He smiled to himself and moved to the next option. Packwarden.

"No hunter runs alone." His eyes moved slowly through the description. The appeal was immediate. He thought of Sable racing beneath him, her strides swallowing the frozen ground while the forest blurred past. He thought of Ashpaw and the other wolves, of the young riders learning to move together, and of hunting parties returning with more meat than the tribe could easily store. A Packwarden surrounded by mounted fighters could become terrifyingly effective. Its Stat progression supported that role.

Dexterity for balance and movement. Constitution to survive the speed and violence of mounted combat. Wisdom to improve awareness, judgment, and Mana recovery. One free point each level would leave at least some room for adjustment. The Class would favor mobile casting, pursuit, trapping, and cooperation with animal companions. Grub could imagine throwing Spells from Sable's back while other riders swept around an enemy, cutting off every direction of escape. It sounded powerful. It also sounded restrictive.

Packwarden would deepen one part of his life until that part became the center of everything else. His growth would depend increasingly upon fighting beside Sable and coordinating other mounted hunters. Grub trusted Sable. He enjoyed riding with her, and the wolves had already changed what the Ironfang could accomplish beyond the cavern. But he didn't want his entire path bound to mounted combat. There would be caves where Sable couldn't easily follow. Settlements where a direwolf would draw too much attention.

Journeys where stealth, diplomacy, construction, or raw magic mattered more than speed. Packwarden offered strength, but only while he remained within the kind of battle the Class understood. He moved to the final option. Tribal Strategist (Special)"Strength wins the battle. Foresight decides which battle is fought." Grub felt a quiet pull as he read. This Class understood the value of preparation. Terrain. Resources. Enemies. Allies. Consequences.

It favored the same habits that had carried him through nearly every crisis since he awakened in the forest. He had survived because he looked beyond the immediate problem and asked what came after it. He had pushed the tribe to gather before winter, preserve food, raise walls, train wolves, recognize healers, and prepare for dangers that hadn't yet arrived. The Stat progression was also excellent. +2 Wisdom each level would improve his awareness, control, and Mana Regeneration quickly.

Alternating Constitution and Dexterity would strengthen his body without forcing him entirely toward durability or speed. Two free points each level gave him the same broad freedom offered by the other Special Classes. His existing Earth-affinity Spells would also remain unchanged. That mattered. The Class wouldn't rewrite his magic toward one narrow function. Instead, future growth would favor tactical flexibility, terrain awareness, coordination, and the deliberate use of force.

At first glance, it seemed to offer nearly everything he wanted. Power without mindless aggression. Leadership without relying upon brute authority. Magic that remained his, guided toward clever application rather than a single rigid purpose. Grub read the description again. Then he reached the part that troubled him. Tribal Strategist didn't bind his magic to construction, control, healing, or mounted combat. It bound him to leadership. That restriction was broader than the others, but it was still a restriction.

The Class would become strongest when he coordinated allies, managed resources, and directed the efforts of a group. Its Skills and Perks would likely grow around those responsibilities. The more he advanced, the more of his personal strength might depend upon having others nearby to lead. Grub looked away from the window. He wasn't planning to abandon the Ironfang. The thought felt wrong even before he examined it fully.

Everything he had done since arriving in the cavern had been meant to make the tribe stronger, safer, and less vulnerable to every disaster that crossed its path. But he also didn't intend to remain inside the cavern forever. Max might be somewhere beyond the forest. Somewhere among the humans to the south, or beyond them. Grub still knew almost nothing about this world, and eventually he would need to leave the Ironfang behind for a time if he hoped to find answers.

That was part of why he needed the tribe to become stronger without him. He wanted to build something stable enough that it wouldn't collapse the moment he walked away. Something he could return to after his travels ended. A home where he held influence, where allies would remember what he had done, and where he could call upon willing strength if he ever needed help. Tribal Strategist would help him create that future. But it might also make leaving it more costly.

If too much of his power became rooted in the tribe, every journey alone would mean walking away from part of his own strength. Grub liked the Class, perhaps more than he wanted to admit, but he couldn't ignore the direction in which it would carry him. He sat back and reviewed all seven options. Earthshaper would make him better at construction and defense, but gradually turn those tasks into the center of his magic.

Stonebinder would increase his tactical influence over movement and positioning, while steering his Spells away from raw force. Woundkeeper would make him a durable and capable healer, but tie his advancement to a responsibility the Medics were already learning to carry without him. Packwarden would make him devastating beside Sable and the other riders, but narrow his strength toward mounted combat and animal coordination. Stone Reaver offered destruction, magical force, and rapid growth.

Tribal Strategist offered leadership, preparation, and the ability to turn allies and resources into something greater than their individual parts. Earth's Disciple offered no predetermined purpose at all. Grub read the list again and began eliminating options. Woundkeeper was the easiest. It honored work he had already done, but it pointed backward. The tribe had Medics now. Grub would continue helping them when he could, but he didn't need his entire Class built around replacing them.

Earthshaper, Stonebinder, and Packwarden carried more temptation, but each presented the same fundamental problem. They demanded commitment to a role. Builder. Controller. Rider. Grub had survived by refusing to become only one thing. He healed when someone was wounded, built when the cavern needed changing, hunted when the stores ran low, and fought when no other choice remained. A Class that made him exceptional at one of those tasks might quietly weaken his ability to adapt to all the others.

There was also the matter of the numbers. Each ordinary Class granted four Stat points per level. The Special Classes granted five. One extra Stat point didn't appear overwhelming at first. Spread across several levels, however, the difference became impossible to dismiss. After twenty levels, a Special Class would have granted him twenty additional Stat points. That was the equivalent of five entire levels of ordinary Class growth.

Five levels of Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Intelligence, or Wisdom that another path would never gain. The gap would begin small, then widen every time he advanced. In a world where Stats determined how hard someone struck, how much punishment they endured, how quickly they moved, and how much magic they could wield, Grub couldn't pretend that difference didn't matter. It was the same kind of reasoning that had guided his hand once before.

Back in the white void, when the System offered him a choice of races, he had gambled on Randomize because it promised better rewards. It had been a risk, but one grounded in the understanding that advantages gained early could influence everything that followed. The same principle applied here. If he was going to bind himself to a Class, it made sense to choose among the paths offering the greatest long-term growth. That left three serious options. Stone Reaver, Earth's Disciple, and Tribal Strategist.

He considered them side by side. Stone Reaver was power directed outward. +2 Intelligence every level. Greater Mana. Stronger Spells. More control over increasingly destructive magic. It would turn the earth around him into a weapon and allow him to meet danger with enough force to end it. Tribal Strategist was power spread among others. +2 Wisdom every level. Greater awareness. Faster regeneration. Better judgment and control.

It would make him more capable of coordinating the tribe, preparing battlefields, managing resources, and ensuring that every goblin and wolf contributed as effectively as possible. Earth's Disciple stood between them. One Intelligence. One Wisdom. It offered neither the concentrated magical force of Stone Reaver nor the focused awareness and leadership of Tribal Strategist. But it also surrendered nothing. His magic would remain unchanged.

His future Spells and Evolutions would follow the choices he made rather than the role the Class selected for him. Stone Reaver would make him personally dangerous. Tribal Strategist would make everyone around him more dangerous. Earth's Disciple would leave him free to become either, both, or something he couldn't yet imagine. Stone Reaver tempted him honestly. The power it promised was immediate and undeniable. When the tribe faced its next threat, he wouldn't need to stand behind the Warriors as support.

He could tear apart stone, break defenses, and inflict damage on a scale no ordinary goblin could match. He would be powerful. He would be feared. For a moment, that vision felt right. The tribe respected strength. Strength ended arguments. His hand lifted slightly before he realized it. Then he stopped himself. Stone Reaver would carry him forward like a flooding river, fast and powerful, but always downhill.

Every level would make destruction easier, until solving problems through force might become less of a choice than an instinct encouraged by his own magic. His attention shifted toward Tribal Strategist. That future was tempting in a different way. He imagined the Ironfang disciplined and prepared, every hunting party moving with purpose, every resource counted, every battlefield chosen before the enemy understood there would be a fight.

He could turn the tribe into something no neighboring clan could dismiss or easily destroy. A tribe that could survive without luck. Perhaps even one that could survive without him. But the Class would keep pulling him back toward command. Every Skill and Perk might deepen his responsibility for other goblins. Every increase in power might only matter most when he stood at the center of the tribe, arranging everyone around him. Grub wanted the Ironfang to become his home.

He didn't want them to become the walls of a prison he had built for himself. He returned his attention to Earth's Disciple. Still water. Choice. The ability to control, in some small way, his own path. It wasn't the strongest offensive option. It wasn't the strongest leadership option. It didn't promise that he would make mountains kneel or decide battles before they began. It promised that when the time came to choose what he became next, the choice would remain his. Power gained quickly was tempting.

Power directed by the omnipresent hand of the System was less so. He was already wary of the System's influence, of how seamlessly it had altered his mind and body. Being able to guide the growth of his Skills and Spells without its constant pressure was power in its own right. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what he was leaving behind. The version of himself who shattered enemies effortlessly. The version who stood above an organized tribe, directing every battle before the first weapon moved.

Both futures held strength. Neither held enough freedom. Grub opened his eyes and let the hunger fade.

"I will not give up the wheel," he murmured. His hand rose again, steady now. Then it closed into a fist. [Congratulations! You have chosen: Earth's Disciple (Special)]