Chương 43: The Worst Class

Lloyd stared in horror at the violet window that had appeared before him. He read the words again and again, hoping for a mistake, but there was none. The words were clear, unambiguous, as if carved into the very fabric of reality, as if they were not subject to any doubt or reinterpretation. [You have received Class: Support]"Why did this happen to me? I got literally the worst class out of all existing ones" There were exactly six classes in the world, six paths that players could follow.

Warrior — a fighter, damage dealer, master of combat arts. Tank — a protector, one who absorbs damage, who stands in the front line. Mage — a master of magic, wielder of elements and spells. Archer — an agile fighter, relying on ranged combat. Assassin — a killer in the shadows, master of stealth and precise damage. Support — a healer, helper, one who supports their companions. Support is the rarest class of all, and it is deeply valued in society. But...

Lloyd knew that support had nearly the highest mortality rate among all other classes when choosing high-tier dungeons. It also meant that Lloyd had to participate in group battles, which meant dependence on other people, on their competence, on their decisions. He didn't want that anymore, because he knew one bitter truth very well. That the greatest danger was not monsters roaming the dungeons. But people. Intelligence is always more formidable than strength.

Betrayal is always more deadly than a creature's fangs. A group can be more dangerous than any boss if there are those in it willing to betray.

"And what do I do now? Maybe I can change it somehow?" Lloyd looked up at the violet window, hoping that the system would somehow allow him to redo his choice, to remake his fate. But the window remained motionless, unchanging, as if mocking his hopes. Feeling despair beginning to seize his mind, Lloyd didn't think long before shouting across the entire tunnel, his voice echoing off the walls, creating multiple echoes that lost themselves in the infinite darkness beyond the crystal's light: — Mippo!

His voice sounded desperate, like a plea for help, like the cry of one standing on the edge of an abyss. Suddenly, after a few seconds, Lloyd heard the sound of a small bell chiming behind him — not loud, but clear, distinguishable among the tunnel's noise, a sound that seemed almost musical, almost holy in this grim place. Followed by a child's voice, its tone somewhere between annoyed and amused. — You call me too often. Lloyd jumped at the surprise, feeling adrenaline surge through his body again.

Behind him, as if materializing from the air, appeared a small figure — this was Mippo, a creature unlike anything Lloyd had ever known. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Its head was round and wooden, covered in dark, nearly black wood, riddled with cracks, like an ancient, hand-carved mask that had witnessed thousands of years.

On top of its head jutted three golden feathers — yellow, orange-brown, and green — shimmering in the crystal's light, like real leaves plucked from some unearthly plants, like parts of a living, breathing tree. But most striking were its eyes — two enormous, luminous green circles, like gemstones cut from the very fabric of magical glass, green moons hanging in the wooden sky of its face. These eyes shone with their own power, their own energy, as if containing an entire galaxy of light within.

Mippo's body was wrapped in green fabrics reminiscent of flower petals or leaves of some gigantic plant, hanging from its shoulders, creating the impression of a cloak, a cloak made from nature itself, woven from magic and wooden matter.

Various small objects hung from its belt — literally several keys, several pouches that looked like sacks filled with herbs and magical components, and in its hands it held a lamp — not an ordinary lamp, but a craftsman's masterpiece, a lamp with a yellow crystal inside, shining with soft, warm light, like a sphere of golden sun enclosed in a metal vessel. — Stop doing that...

Mippo took a step forward, the feathers on its head rustled, creating a soft sound like the whisper of autumn wind through dried leaves, the sound of ancient times and magic. — I can hardly believe you actually did it. Mippo scratched the back of its head with its small wing, in his gesture there was something almost human, almost comical, if not for the gravity of the moment. — I think you can be called a legend.

He turned his gaze to the majestic crystal behind Lloyd, his eyes flashed with some strange light, as if he could see something Lloyd couldn't, as if he could see the fates and paths that had opened for Lloyd through this action. — Well, what do you need me for now? It seems to me you've handled this quite well. Mippo examined Lloyd's wounds, his gaze was attentive, analytical, as if he could see through skin, through flesh, straight into the soul, seeing every scar, every wound, every pain. — Well, almost.

Lloyd scratched his head, feeling uncomfortable before the small figure that apparently knew more about him than he knew about himself. Its presence seemed heavy, significant, as if this small creature contained ancient wisdom within. — Here's the thing. I was assigned the Support class. Is there any way to change it? I don't really like it.

Mippo shook his head, and there was determination in his movement, as if he already knew what Lloyd was going to ask, as if he had already prepared his answer, already knew the entire course of this conversation, as if he could see the future. — Your class is determined by your skills that you have now, and which you will have. And the skills themselves come from your True Name.

Mippo pointed — or something that resembled a finger — directly at Lloyd, his voice became more serious, colder, as if the temperature around them dropped several degrees, as if an icy wind swept through the tunnel. — So if you find a relic that can change your True Name, be my guest. His voice sounded more serious than before, as if he was warning Lloyd about something truly dangerous, something that could cost his life, something that could destroy him utterly.

— But I think you know without me that the price will be high. Lloyd sadly turned his gaze to the ground, seeing only the cold stone floor of the tunnel, covered with the imprints of their battle, covered with the ashes of the dead monster, covered with green slime that now looked black in the half-light. He knew that changing his Class was impossible, he knew it with the same certainty that he knew death was inevitable.

He was not ready to pay such a high price for it, his right hand had already felt what happens to those who use the power of relics.

"Well, I guess I'll have to stand to the side and help others while they do their work" The prospect looked bleak. To be the one who merely helps, who is not the main hero of the battle, who always stands in the shadows, aside from the action. Being Support meant being someone easily used, easily betrayed, easily abandoned when no longer needed.

The crystal's light seemed to become dimmer at this moment, as if reality itself was responding to his despair, as if the world shared his pain, as if even the magic of this sacred place sympathized with his grief.

Lloyd hadn't managed to finish his thought when Mippo continued, his voice acquiring a new tone — something between comfort and intrigue, as if he knew some secret, some truth he had only just decided to reveal, as if he held in his hands the key to Lloyd's salvation: — But actually, things might not be as bad as you think...