“B-but why would I do that?”
“Because you like to pretend people actually give a shit about you.”
Growing impatient, Eve peeked her head around the bulky Soldier to glimpse into the room beyond. There were six zombies in all, standing in a semicircle around a man no taller than she. The most feared necromancer in Lynthia’s face and clothes were stained with dirt from sleeping on the floor of the catacomb. His hair was ragged and unkempt, and his shirt on backwards.
“Fools! Now you have tread upon my place of strength, nothing can save you! You shall die knowing it was Steven, the world’s greatest necromancer, that defeated you!”
Alex lowered her spear. Wes prepared a Fire Dart. The zombies shambled forward.
At once the walls on either flank gave way as desiccated hands burst through. Eve yanked her arm away. Preston wasn’t so lucky.
The healer lurched to the side as a newly animated corpse snatched his robe. He hit the wall hard. The dirt fell away, and the zombie’s head peeked out, its mouth wide open and lined with rotting teeth. A flash of light coursed through the tight space, forcing Eve to shut her eyes.
When she opened them again, the monster had fallen limp.
“Ayla’s not fond of undead,” Preston bragged.
A cry rang out ahead of them. The healer fell silent as he surged forward to help Wes with his own attacker. Another hand broke through the wall just below Preston’s line of sight. It caught his ankle.
The slim blond careened forward, falling directly into Wes. They both went down.
Eve’s heart raced. The sound of more falling dirt echoed out behind her, indicating the impending arrival of yet more walking dead. She stared down the hall, watching Alex expertly wield her spear to fend off those encroaching from the front. The Soldier took a step forward. Another.
At Eve’s feet, Preston struggled to stand, fighting off the grasping hands of two floor-level zombies as Wes shifted beneath him.
We can’t fight them all, she realized. The coarse scrape of feet dragging against dirt sounded from the way they’d come. Up ahead, Alex shifted once more, and Eve had her opening.
She charged.
Wes collapsed again to the hard earth as she ran across his back, shooting up to full speed as she activated Run Away. A decaying hand reached for her, but she blew right past it. Her heart rate quickened.
She reached the final chamber just as Alex decapitated her second zombie. With a swing of her spear, one more hit the ground. Eve trampled it too.
Steven could only stare as this unarmed, unarmored slip of a girl ran at him. He opened his mouth to bark an order at his undead minions, but he was too late. The slow-moving corpses could do nothing to stop Evelia Greene, and neither could their foolhardy creator.
Eve raised her elbow.
She got him in the throat, her momentum carrying her on until they both collided with the back wall. A terrible crack echoed through the chamber. Fiery pain exploded down Eve’s arm as first Steven’s back and then her elbow struck the wall. She cried out.
Steven collapsed. Eve followed. The room fell silent. Clutching her aching shoulder, Eve forced herself to survey the room before checking her slew of notifications.
The zombies crumpled, the magic tying them to the mortal plane cut clean.
Alex panted. Wes carefully stood. Preston vomited.
You have defeated Level 28 Necromancer: +480 exp!
You have defeated Level 16 Zombie: +32 exp!
You have defeated Level 15 Zombie: +24 exp!
You have defeated Level 16 Zombie: +32 exp!
…
You have defeated Level 16 Zombie: +32 exp!
Eve swore. Ayla’s tits, it gave me credit for all the zombies? In a way it was fair; she had been the reason they fell. Still, it blew her mind that a single man could be powerful enough to raise that many monsters at only a few levels higher than she. Then again, he hadn’t been powerful enough to survive an elbow to the neck.
A devious grin overcame Eve’s face as she pulled up the final message. It was long.
Class Upgrade Avai—
“Gods below!” Wes’s curse forced Eve’s attention away from the long-awaited promotion.
“What’s wrong?”
His eyes shone blue with the invisible light of his own status screen as he reread its contents open-mouthed. “I just unlocked a Rare class.”
* * *
Wesley Rollund (total xp 1592)
Human
Level 10 Flame Initiate
Exp: 283/484
Health: 43/120
Stamina: 39/110
Mana: 221/300
Constitution: 12
Endurance: 11
Intelligence: 41
Dexterity: 9
Strength: 14
Spirit: 30
Passive Ability - Flame Affinity
You’ve always had a thing for fire. Fire Spells do 15% bonus damage. +15% Fire resistance.
Passive Ability - Minor Flame Manipulation
The inferno heeds your whisper. Manipulate small fires with willpower alone.
Active Ability - Burning Hand
10 Mana/Sec
Engulf your hand in flames. Deals fire damage to anything it touches.
Active Ability - Fire Dart
30 Mana
A novice’s first projectile. Throw a flaming dart that inflicts fire damage upon whatever it hits.
CHAPTER TEN
Promotion Commotion
“BULLSHIT,” ALEX SWORE. “A Rare class at tier two? That’s unheard of. You barely even contributed to the fight!”
Preston rubbed the back of his neck. “I—um—I’m sorry about that. One of them grabbed me and I—”
Wes cut him off, “It’s alright. These things happen. Instead of worrying about it, go heal Eve.”
The Acolyte blanched. “Right. Eve. I’m so sorry.” He dashed across the room, gently placing a glowing hand on her aching shoulder.
Ayla’s light was no less invasive than it’d been before, but Eve was ready this time. She braced herself against the golden onslaught, allowing Her forgiveness to course through the sprained and dislocated joint.
So engulfed was she in the intensity of the healing, she didn’t even notice the burst of agony as her shoulder popped back into place. The relief was immediate.
“Now that’s dealt with,” Alex broke the silence, “how in the hells did you unlock a Rare class?”
Wes turned up his palms. “I don’t fucking know! The requirement list says some crap about knowing the true nature of fire.”
“Well?” Eve stood. “Are you gonna tell us what it is?”
“I haven’t technically chosen it yet, but it’s the only Rare option. Acolyte of the Devouring Flame.”
Eve raised her eyebrows. “Say what you will about whether he deserves it; that sounds badass.”
Alex grimaced. “Badass and unfair.”
“You’re right, it is unfair. Just like it’s unfair that I got stuck with a noncombat class or Preston’s the only guy in an all-female holy order. But it’s not his fault. And it’s not mine, and it’s not Preston’s. So maybe you could get off your high horse and stop being an asshole about it.”
Alex shut her mouth, grit her teeth, and stormed from the chamber.
Wes turned to Eve. “Where did that come from?”
She exhaled. “Alex isn’t the only one feeling a little frustrated. She’s been rude since we met her, and I just put off reading my own upgrades so I could hear about yours.”
“Then read them.”
“Wes—”
“I don’t need you to yell at Alex for me, and I don’t need you to celebrate my promotion for me. What I need is for you to celebrate yours. You saved our asses there, Eve, and you deserve every bit of reward that comes with it.”
“Awwww,” the healer cooed from across the room.
Eve glared. “Not now, Preston.”
The Acolyte jumped. “Right. So
rry. I’ll just…” He took his leave.
“So.” Wes peered down at her. “What’d you get?”
Eve pushed herself to her feet. “Not here. Not… with him.” She gestured down at Steven’s corpse. “Let’s go. I can read while we walk.”
Accepting Wes’s nod and quiet smile, Eve stepped over the fallen zombies and into the spiral hallway. She forced the necromancer from her mind as she walked; she could deal with those emotions later. For now, at last, she read her messages.
Class Upgrade Available: Envoy
Common Tier 3 Class
Requirements: Courier or Page base class.
From humble beginnings, you’ve fought your way up the ladder into a position with real—if limited—influence. No more do you carry letters or packages, but diplomatic missives of great import.
+15 Endurance
+3 Endurance/Level
Eve dismissed the option outright. Definitely not taking another Common class, she thought. Especially not glorified Messenger Girl. She opened the next one.
Class Upgrade Available: Starlight Runner
Uncommon Tier 3 Class
Requirements: Courier, Scout, Thief, or Messenger base class. Use your skills to escape under the cover of the stars. Reach enough Endurance to run through the night.
The night is your friend, and you’re determined to use it. Hide in the shadows, or shine silver starlight to expose that which is hidden.
+25 Endurance
+5 Spirit
+12 Endurance/Level
+2 Dexterity/Level
+1 Spirit/Level
Eve reread the class description. Well that’s vague. The name certainly sounded interesting, and the stats it granted caught her attention. Spirit meant magic. She flagged it as an option, but a few details left her with reservations.
First and foremost, nothing about it read like a combat class. Useful as stealth may be, she could already escape combat on her own. She needed something that could help the party, and she needed something that would get her into the guild. Starlight Runner did neither.
Class Upgrade Available: Medic
Uncommon Tier 3 Class
Requirements: Put your own life at risk to save another’s three times. Rescue someone from certain death by pulling them from combat. Make a personal sacrifice to stay at a patient’s side as he recovers.
Time and time again you’ve risked life and limb to save another, and should the opportunity arise again, you’ll take it. The life of a medic isn’t the most glamorous or renowned. You won’t be leading armies into battle or defeating ancient beasts, but to those people you save, you mean everything. You are a hero in the truest sense of the word.
+20 Endurance
+7 Spirit
+3 Intelligence
+10 Endurance/Level
+3 Intelligence/Level
+2 Spirit/Level
Eve flagged this one too. Sure, the description seemed to imply the class wasn’t a good fit for someone on a Legendary quest, but she certainly liked the sound of it. A hero in the truest sense of the word, huh? She grinned.
Once again, the presence of Spirit meant the class likely had access to magic, but given the low quantities it probably wasn’t much. Given the name, they were likely healing spells meant to stabilize a wounded soldier until she could deliver him to safety. The class had two problems.
For one, while technically a combat class to satisfy the guild requirement, Medic was no use for fighting. Gaining exp would be a chore. Beyond that, their little party already had a healer. She liked Preston well enough. He’d even healed her twice in one day, and taking his job didn’t feel a great way to repay that.
She moved on.
Class Upgrade Available: Shatterfate Striker
Rare Tier 3 Class
Requirements: Successfully wield a weapon beyond your ability. As a noncombat class, defeat an enemy beyond your level. As a noncombat class, use a defensive ability offensively. Choose not to complete your life’s quest when given the opportunity. Accept and overcome the inequality of life.
The gods do not play dice, and neither do you. Unhappy with the life before you, you clenched your fists and stood your ground and whispered defiance at fate itself. You’ve proven to the divine, to the mundane, and to your very soul that this is the way of things. The path of shattered fate is neither safe nor easy, but know that as long as you choose to walk it, it is yours.
+25 Endurance
+15 Strength
+5 Constitution
+5 Dexterity
+15 Endurance/Level
+6 Strength/Level
+5 Dexterity/Level
+4 Constitution/Level
Eve fell over.
In her distraction, she hadn’t seen the dead zombie lying on the floor before her. She tripped over it, her arms windmilling as she careened forward into the opposite wall.
Wes laughed. “This is why we don’t read while we walk.”
“It’s not that…”
Wes gave her a concerned look. “Passing up an opportunity for a witty retort? That’s not like you. What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, I… I’m just thinking about my options.”
He helped her up. “Anything good?”
“How—um—how many stats will you get? Once you take your Rare class.”
“Twenty a level,” he rattled off the answer. “Split between Intelligence and Spirit with a sliver of Constitution in there for survivability. I’d guess it’ll be thirty per level once I hit tier three.”
Eve nodded. “Yeah that’s right.”
Wes stopped in his tracks. “Right because you checked my math, or because you know?”
The width of her grin told him everything.
He surged forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. A combination of his natural strength and their difference in height left Eve’s feet dangling in the air. “Eve, that’s incredible! It hasn’t even been two weeks!”
“I mean… most of the experience came from my quest, and you know that’s not exactly fair.”
Wes set her down, staring deeply into her eyes as he replied. “Your quest didn’t give you a Rare class; it gave you a shitty one. You earned it.”
“It’s not like I—well—” she sighed. “Thank you.”
Wes smiled. “Guess it’s my turn to play catch-up, huh?”
Eve chuckled, taking a step to continue their walk through the dim tunnel.
Wes only needed a few long strides to catch back up with her. “What are the abilities?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t taken it yet.”
“Wanna hit ‘yes’ together?”
Eve shook her head. “Not here. I’ve heard the stories. Grondis the Great slept for thirty days when he jumped to his Legendary class. I’m not about to pass out in the middle of a crypt.”
“That’s a song. Besides, you aren’t getting a Legendary class.”
“I’m not getting a Legendary class now.” she corrected him. “We can wait until we get back to Lynthia.”
“Alright, alright.” He held up his hands in defeat. “But I’m telling the others.”
“What? It’s my class. They already kno—”
Preston’s voice interrupted her from the barrow’s exit. “Tell the others what?”
Wes stepped outside. “Eve got a Rare too.”
The healer’s mouth hung open. “Bandir’s balls, two rare upgrades in one day? That’s amazing!”
Alex stared with wide eyes. “Congratulations. You deserve it.” In a single motion, the Soldier turned on her heel and strode away.
“Seriously?” Wes watched her go. “How come she yells at me but congratulates you?”
“Because the one time she’s seen us fight I saved the day while you fell on your face?”
“Hey! I could’ve—”
Eve snapped her fingers as the realization struck her. “Speaking of which—” She held out a hand. “Pay up.”
“But it’s my last one.”
&
nbsp; “Then get more. If it weren’t for me, a zombie would be eating you and it right now.”
Wes grumbled as he pulled the pack from his shoulder, digging through it to withdraw the final strawberry scone. He handed it over.
“That looks tasty,” Preston commented as Eve took a bite.
“It is,” Wes groaned. “And knowing her talent for getting bakeries shut down, it’ll be a while until I can find more. If I can even afford them.”
“Come on.” Eve licked sugary crumbs from her lips as she spoke. “You still have the hydra scales and that lightning staff/wand thing to sell. Not to mention payment for the job we just did.”
“Right, but I imagine a certain someone is going to use most of that to pay her guild fees.”
Eve smirked. “Oh, sorry, I misspoke. I meant payment for the job I just did.”
Wes sighed.
Preston guffawed. “She’s got you there.”
Wes cocked an eyebrow at him. “Strong words for a priestess.”
“Hey,” Eve stepped in. “Acolyte,” she corrected. “He’s not a priestess. Yet.”
Preston looked up at the tall mage. “Wait a minute, didn’t you say your new class is an Acolyte too?”
He nodded. “Acolyte of the Devouring Flame.”
The healer smiled. “I guess we’re peers then, huh? Maybe you can make it to priestess some day too.”
Wes scoffed. “Please. We all know I’m going to skip straight to Lord or Master of the Devouring Flame.”
Preston turned to Eve. “Five silver says he ends up Fuel for the Devouring Flame.”
It was Eve’s turn to let out a wild giggle. She shook his hand. “I don’t have five silver, but you’re absolutely on.”
The teasing jokes and friendly banter continued on as did the adventurers on their way back to Lynthia and to rest. The mirth of their verbal fencing and the lingering sweetness of the scone on her tongue elevated Eve’s mood beyond even the heights of her impending promotion. How she hoped it would all work out.
This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1) Page 8