Chương 5: 4. Classless

A second, larger explosion shook the ground. Tavian leaned on a wall, feeling worse than when his father had reduced the kingdom Tier. Was he hallucinating? He could have been scratched and not noticed it. He could be dying of poison. Steadying himself, he breathed deeply and checked for his system interface again. It was gone. He couldn't even check the claim status of his current hextile. It was true then. The Core had been destroyed. Everything was gone. Strength, Perception, Magic… his stat buffs, his Perks.

He would have preferred to be stripped naked and pushed into the street. He had nothing now. He vomited. Bile splashed against stone, spattering down onto the bare floor of the hallway. The coup was happening across the palace, then. His whole family was in danger. He had to get back to Calli. She had the Conqueror's Core. If they could activate it, then maybe… Tavian ran down the hall, socks slipping on well worn stone as he rounded a corner. He should have recovered the poisoned dagger.

He should have picked up a sword. The sounds of fighting rang out through the palace. House Veros had been betrayed. But something must have gone wrong with their plan. He saw now that Ilara had been stalling, waiting for this moment. If he'd been stripped of his Class when she attacked, he'd be lying dead in his chambers right now. A page boy was standing near the body of a man, looking stunned. The dead man wore Anarvia purple. The boy held a bloodied kitchen knife.

"Page!" Tavian grabbed the boy by the shoulder, shaking him out of it.

"Well done, man," Tavian said, taking the knife from the boy.

"Are you hurt? Can you run?" The boy nodded. Tavian cleaned the knife on the dead man's tunic.

"Take this knife," Tavian said, handing it back to him.

"You're with me now. We're going to defend our home. Can you do that?" The boy took the knife.

"I can," he said.

"Good. What is your name?"

"Goren, sir."

"Goren, you stick with me now."

"Yes, sir." Tavian stooped over the body of the dead Anarvian and drew the man's sword. He stepped in something wet. Dark fluid soaked into the left foot of his silk chausses.

"By Ishtoran," he cursed, hoping it wasn't blood but knowing that it was. Reaching for the dead man's foot, he stopped himself. No time to take the boots. He ran on, looted sword in hand, toward the sound of fighting. Goren followed with him. A trio of gardeners wielded pitchforks and hoes, facing down two men in purple with swords. The Anarvians had their backs to him. Tavian ran quietly down the hall and attacked. One Anarvian turned, raising his blade.

Tavian fell into Air Stance, choosing the form of rapid, light attacks. Without his accustomed stat enhancements, the sword felt sluggish and heavy in his hand. The soldier moved faster than Tavian expected and scored a blow on his arm. Tavian forced his body through the steps of Air Stance, leveraging rapid, stabbing attacks. He battered at the enemy with a flurry of blows. His strikes were clumsy, but his enemy was unarmored. A sword tip cut through the sleeve of his tunic, nicking his forearm.

Goren darted in with his knife, but was backhanded to the ground. An Anarvian fell beneath the fury of Tavian's attack. The other was stabbed in the back by a gardener with a pitchfork. As the enemies slumped to the ground, Tavian touched the cuts on his arm. They weren't deep, but he had been sloppy. Tavian had come to rely too much on the strength and dexterity of his Class. His swordmaster's voice echoed in his head.

"Never let your guard down."

"There was an explosion in the courtyard," one of the gardeners said, staring at the men Tavian had just killed.

"They started shouting orders like they owned the fortress now." Another gardener helped Goren to his feet.

"We're under attack," Tavian said.

"Follow me." He started moving before they could reply. They followed. Tavian's army grew: an old man with a hoe, two women with pitchforks, and a page with a kitchen knife. He hated asking these people to fight for him. Grabbing a torch from a sconce, Tavian led them onward. Calli's quarters were on the second floor; the nearest stairwell that would take him there was beside the core courtyard. A band of Anarvians ran through an intersection ahead and disappeared.

Tavian slowed; if they bogged down in combat, they'd never reach Calli. As Tavian and his followers reached the junction, they came face to face with another band, bristling with weapons as they pursued the fleeing men. It took a half second for Tavian to recognize his brother, Braun, bare-chested and leading a disheveled squad of partially dressed soldiers, a manservant, and a few cooks.

"They tried to kill me in my chambers," Braun gasped.

"Me too," Tavian said.

"Calli?" Braun asked.

"Come!" Tavian beckoned.

"Yes sir. Squad Captain, sir," Braun said, saluting. The others fell in with him. His army grew. The title Squad Captain was a wry but accurate observation of the situation; a Squad Captain led a unit of twenty-four soldiers. About that many now followed Tavian, as they cut through the keep. It wasn't enough. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"No shoes?" Braun asked, inspecting Tavian's appearance.

"At least I still have a shirt." They reached the earthward gate of the Core Courtyard. The most direct path was through the courtyard and out the flameward gate on the other side. No soldiers guarded this gate. Why would they? There was nothing left to guard beyond. Tavian gasped as he saw that crater where their Kingdom Core had once stood. The kingdom core had been totally destroyed. Chunks of partially molten metal littered the courtyard. Small fires burned among the flowers and shrubs.

The bodies of his father's mages were strewn about like rubbish.

"My daffodils," one of the gardeners exclaimed. Tavian stepped into the courtyard, his soldiers behind him. The night sky glittered overhead, stars partially obscured by smoke wafting through the air. It smelled of fire and death. Shadows of men moved on the far side of the courtyard.

"Get down, get down!" someone hissed from a nearby shadow. Tavian spun, pointing his sword into the shadow.

"Down!" Tavian ducked, and light flared from across the way, in the direction of the throne room.

"Who goes there?" came the shouted demand.

"They're Anarvian," the shadow whispered. A man crawled toward Tavian, wearing the robes of a Tar Corinath [Mage].

"Show yourself!" the enemy challenged. Tavian crouched beside the [Mage].

"What happened here?" he asked.

"They're Veros!" came another shout from the intruders. It was almost immediately followed by a magical dart, which cut though the air and smashed on the wall behind him.

"My powers are gone!" the former [Mage] declared.

"They came with magic and blew up the spell modules. My Class is gone!"

"There are greens over there, come on!" Footsteps crunched on gravel as Anarvians ran to confront Tavian. The distraught [Mage] clapped his hands to his head and Braun grabbed the man, dragging him back.

"Mages!" Tavian explained.

"They have mages!" More darts flew as Tavian and the others scrambled back into the hall. The old man with the hoe was too slow, and a magical projectile clipped his arm, throwing him against the wall. More attacks followed, striking the man's body with the force of hurled stones. The old gardener slumped lifelessly to the ground. Tavian and the others ran for shelter; they'd have to go around the long way.

"Where did Anarvia get mages?" Braun asked. The realization rocked Tavian to the core. Lord Anarvia couldn't have mages. Not without a Kingdom Core. They staggered out into the hall.

"He must have a Kingdom Core somewhere," Tavian gasped.

"He's giving out Classes to his men." A few magical projectiles whizzed past, exploding on a wall in a shower of luminescence. Everything clicked into place. Ilara must have had a Class that bolstered her strength. No wonder she was so strong. No wonder she'd been so nervous when he'd asked her about her Class. He'd been so close to accidentally figuring it out.

"Damn," Braun spat, understanding. The move was so bold, so brazen. It didn't seem like something Lord Anarvia was capable of. But it was also so obvious, that he kicked himself for not spotting the ploy sooner. The Anarvian Kingdom Core couldn't be a very high Tier yet, so all their Classes would also be low-Tier. For now. They sheltered around a corner. Tavian faced the former mage, who seemed indignant at the way he'd just been dragged. He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it.

Tavian glared at him, watching recognition spread across his face.

"My lord," the man said.

"I didn't know it was you."

"Come with me," Tavian said.

"Help us. We have a new core. We can still fight." The former mage joined them. The stairs appeared ahead, and they picked up the pace. The side entrance to the throne room appeared to their right. The doors had been blown off the hinges. Bodies littered the foyer. Shouts rang out and weapons clashed in the throne room. Tavian caught a glimpse of the king, wielding his sword alongside a dozen royal guard. Uncle Erond fought alongside his brother, their backs to the throne.

A unit of Anarvians approached, heading to reinforce the men fighting in the throne room. In their midst was Anax Anarvia, shouting commands.

"This way!" Anax cried.

"We have to kill the king!"

"By Ishtoran," Tavian cursed, "Come on, Braun. If we're going to save him, we need to get the core!" But Braun hesitated, taking a half step toward the doorway.

"I'll kill him," Braun snarled, glaring at Anax. Tavian bit his cheek. He wanted to beat Anax too. But if the Anarvians were looking for the Core, he'd need Braun with him. Rage burned in his father's eyes as his sword flashed, but the king was outnumbered. He'd be overrun before Tavian could get to the Core.

"No," he said to Braun.

"Come with me! If we join him without the Core, we all die!" Braun faced him, meeting his gaze.

"The only thing that saves this kingdom tonight is activating that Core." Braun cast one glance back toward the throne room. He was going to run in there, alone.

"Calli, Braun," Tavian said.

"She's alone!" Braun clenched his jaw. They ran up the stairs together. There was blood in the hall outside Calli's room, and the door had been beaten in. Two Anarvian men-at-arms lay dead in the antechamber alongside a serving maid with a dagger in her hand.

"Calli!" Tavian screamed, bursting into her bed chamber. Blood splattered on the floor, across the white of the bedspread. The Conqueror's Core was not there.

"Calli!" Tavian screamed again, more desperate this time. He crossed over to the door to the washroom, and pulled it open. There, he came face to face with a huddled group of young women brandishing sharp weapons. Calli stood at their head, holding a quivering sword. She had a look of raw determination on her tear-streaked face, which melted away when she saw him.

"Thank Ishtoran," Braun breathed a sign of relief.

"Tavian!" Calli exclaimed, dropping her sword and embracing him.

"Those men… they… my system stopped working. My Class disappeared and they burst in. What happened to the core?"

"It's a coup," Tavian said, squeezing her back.

"There's fighting in the throne room. We're not too late, come on! Where's the Conqueror's Core? We've got to activate it." Calli crossed and opened her closet. The core stood where Tavian had left it. He grabbed the crate, but it wouldn't budge. It won't activate up here," Calli said.

"It has to be on the ground."

"Then we'll bring it down." Calli picked up her sword. Braun tested the crate, then called for help from the soldiers. Without their classes, it took four of them to coerce the crate out into the hall.

"We're coming with you," Calli said. Tavian looked over the serving girls, about to argue.

"All of us," she said. Tavian didn't want to watch them die.

"Let's go, then," Tavian said, and they ran down the stairs to the throne room. The throne room was chaos. Uncle Erond and the King's guard fought wearily atop the dais. Erond screamed a war cry.

"Come and take me!" The Anarvians facing them moved cautiously, having a harder time with Veros valor when they couldn't just stab them in the back. Braun answered the war cry, and charged into the room, cutting his way to his father's side. Anax screamed from the center of the room, cursing the cowardice of his men and trying to motivate them. When Tavian and his men entered the room carrying the crate, Anax broke off.

"There!" Anax shouted.

"Get that crate, it's the Core! Don't let them activate it!" Tavian's men set the core down, and the two forces joined in battle, providing some relief for the king's guard on the dais. Cutting his way through the enemy, Tavian sought out Anax. They clashed, blade on blade, steel ringing. Tavian stood firm, holding Stone stance. Anax's forms were sloppy and weak, but the boy had a Class enhancing his movements. Tavian fought to counter his blows. Tavian deflected a blow, and Anax glared at him.

"You killed Ilara?" he snarled.

"You killed my sister?"

"I'll kill you too," Tavian spat, pressing the attack. Anax stumbled backwards, calling out to his men.

"Forget about them! Help me, help me!" Calli appeared at Tavian's side. She lashed out with her blade and caught Anax on the forearm, leaving a bloody gash.

"You lean on a girl, Tavian!" Anax cried. Tavian pressed the attack, but his socked feet slipped on bloody marble. Anax had buffs, making him stronger and faster. Tavian moved to defend Calli. Anax gestured; a glow appearing in his hand.

"Watch out!" Tavian warned Calli.

"He has magi—" Anax threw an elemental bomb at their feet. An explosion of air sent them all flying back. Calli dropped her sword and stumbled back into a pillar. Anax ran at her.

"Finally, my chance to run you through," he snarled, thrusting at her breast with his blade.

"Teach you to turn me dow—" Tavian dove forward, but he was too slow. Anax cut off as Calli's fist slammed into his face. Bone crunched. Anax gasped, looking shocked. Calli dabbed at blood dripping from the cut across her chest. Tavian's blade took off Anax's head a moment later, and the impudent whelp collapsed. With their leader beheaded and their numbers dwindling, the remaining purple men-at-arms ran. Calli shook out her hand and spat on Anax's body. Erond was shouting commands.

"You three, secure that door! Which ones can still be barred? You—over there!" Braun surveyed the carnage, his sword hanging loosely in his hand. The King sank down and sat on the dais steps. Tavian crossed to the core, still in its crate. He smashed the hilt of his captured Anarvian sword down onto the latch, then kicked the lid open. Inside, the core pulsed with light. It was ready.

"Father," Tavian called.

"Activate the core!"