The sun had long dipped below the horizon by the time Lucien and Alazaar returned to the crypt.
They had not spoken a word on the way back. Lucien remained in silent contemplation, while Alazaar
dragged behind him the shattered remnants of the goblin corpses in a conjured net of ethereal bindings.
As they passed through the thick catacomb gates, Alazaar paused, glancing at his grim haul with idle curiosity.
"I'll be preparing these for testing," he said offhandedly, not turning to face Lucien. "You go on ahead."
Lucien obeyed without a word, wheeling himself deeper into the familiar dark of the tomb. The walls,
drenched in cold silence, welcomed him back like an old habit. He passed flickering sconces, skeletal statues,
and finally stopped at a resting alcove. His chimera, still slicked with dried blood, curled beside him
like a loyal hound, motionless and watchful.
Lucien stared into the gloom, the echoes of battle fresh in his mind. Each shriek and gurgle replayed like a haunting reel.
He felt sweat form at his brow, his stomach lurching. A wave of nausea rolled over him.
With shaking fingers, he opened his system interface.
[Soul Points: 1815]
He scanned the store—searching. And then he found it:
[Trait Unlocked: Cold-Blooded - 500 Soul Points]
Suppresses emotional reactions during stress. Enhances decision-making.
Trait Acquired.
A numb stillness washed over Lucien. It wasn't cold like fear or hot like adrenaline—it was neutral, clean. His pulse slowed. His breathing evened out. The nausea, the guilt, the tremors… all gone.
The chimera stirred beside him, its green-lit sockets still and watchful. It looked like a monster born of nightmares, a beast that had bathed in blood. And yet Lucien stared at it now with the same dispassionate calm one might give to a scuffed shoe.
"Better," he murmured to himself. His voice didn't waver this time.
With his nerves calmed, he opened the Soul Store again. He wasn't looking for relief now—he was scanning, thinking, planning.
Rows of traits flickered past his vision: Mana Efficiency, Ritual Speed, Summoner's Instinct... then a few locked ones. He paused.
[Locked — Requires Class: Necromancer]
[Locked — Requires Class: Warlock]
[Locked — Requires Class: Bloodmage]
He blinked.
"…Class?"
He backed out of the Trait list and navigated to a menu he hadn't fully explored before—Progression. There it was.
Class: None
Next Unlock: Level 10 — Class Selection Available
Requirements: Age 13+ / Soul Alignment Stable
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
So that's how it worked. You didn't just get stronger and have your class assigned—you had to unlock it. Choose it. You had to be ready.
He scrolled again.
[Level: 1]
[Soul Points: 1315]
[Level 2: 100 Soul Points]
[Level 3: 150 Soul Points]
[Level 4: 200 Soul Points]
...
By the time he totaled it all out, the number hit him: 2,700 Soul Points to reach Level 10.
He was already two-thirds of the way there.
A slow, calculating grin crept onto his pale face. He still looked like a fragile child—sharp-eyed, small, thin as a reed—but something inside him was shifting.
"I need 885 more," he whispered.
The road was laid out. Now all he had to do… was walk it. Or in his case, roll it.