In the guild library, I closed a thick tome with a thud, the long ignored volume blowing out a cloud of dust in response. Despite how long it had been since anyone had last read it, the contents had been... interesting.
The title displayed on the cover was simply 'Path Compendium'. Inside was a list of every publicly known Path, along with obtainment conditions, effects, known Skill evolutions, and any other details the author had been able to collect.
Why would such a trove of information be so long disused? I'd considered that perhaps the way talented individuals tended to not stay adventurers for long meant that none of them progressed that far, but it was theoretically possible to earn a Path at level twenty-six. Or maybe thirty-one would be more accurate, since even the cheapest Paths cost five skill points. Either way, it was a level anyone could reach.
Anyone. I'd already done the calculations to conclude that my parents were probably around level sixty. There was a [Farmer] Path. All it required was fifth stage [Expert Farming] and one other compatible Skill. [Appraise Plant]—the C-ranked evolution of [Identify Plant]—would suffice. Level forty-five. Every farmer in our village could have managed it, giving them the B-rank [Master Farming]. Why didn't they?
There was an argument that telling serfs what they needed to spend skill points on for their entire lives rather than just the first growth milestone could lead to restlessness. I also suspected that [Identify Plant] skill crystals were not in such great supply as [Farming]. Given that the kingdom was subsisting just fine on its current level of food output, maybe there was an economic argument against it to avoid food oversupply, too?
But even if my village could be explained away, what about the adventurers downstairs? Didn't they care? Weren't they planning their builds?
Admittedly, I hadn't discovered this tome until after I'd earned two Paths, but I was a special case. I advanced so quickly that there wasn't time to read up on things in advance.
Perhaps there was a clue in the way the king had assumed I'd be taking [Assassin]. While the level required to qualify for a Path was low, there wasn't an awful lot of overlap. The requirements to qualify for two were effectively doubled. Furthermore, the tome was clear that you could only ever pick one. It seemed unlikely that an average adventurer would qualify for [Assassin] and then not only ignore it, but go on to qualify for [Lightning Mage]. Maybe 'common sense' was that you just took whatever Path you were offered first, and since it would by definition match your Skill build, there wasn't any point in planning for it. Your Path was 'chosen' at the point you decided on your main Skills.
Even then, saying there wasn't much overlap didn't mean there was none. Throw in a spell like [Entangle], and on top of [Farmer], someone could qualify for [Magical Farmer]. A similar Path, but a higher tier.
And, when talking about tiers, it was hard not to be reminded of [Chosen One]. The note was right. I wanted it.
On the table next to the Path Compendium was a very similar, albeit far less dusty, tome, titled the Mark Compendium. There hadn't been a huge amount of information about [Hero], but there was hardly anything about [Chosen One], and what information there was had been sourced from a single individual a couple of centuries ago. However, what information there was made the benefits clear.
[Hero] was an upgrade of [Guardian], swapping out the flat bonus of five skill points for five per growth milestone and adding an extra effect that made it visible to anyone without needing any sort of appraisal Skill. The extra skill points were nice, but barely more than a ten percent bonus on top of what I was getting anyway, and I wasn't sure I wanted the entire world to know I had the Mark.
[Chosen One], on the other hand, didn't increase the skill point bonus any further, but it did add a new effect that seemed practically designed for me: with it, all Skills could be evolved one rank higher than their usual maximum, as long as compatible higher ranked Skills existed. I could evolve [Lightning Shock] to [Lightning Strike] and [Expert Stealth] to [Master Stealth], with none of the negative side effects of taking a Path. On top of that, it offered bonus experience and Stat gains. It kept the downside of letting other people see that I had it, but that trade off was well worth it.
Of course, nothing good came for free, and calling the qualifications steep would be an understatement. A [Hero] needed to save a nation. Not 'play a role in saving a nation', as was the case for [Guardian], but 'save a nation'. Defeating the Unbound didn't count, because there was no individual involved in the fight who, if removed, would have changed the outcome. Yes, without me, casualties would have been higher. Or maybe they wouldn't: it was possible the Enshrouded would have simply destroyed the equipment, as I had done. Either way, the Unbound would have been destroyed, so there was no-one the System saw fit to designate a [Hero].
Even if I had been vital to proceedings, it wouldn't have been enough for [Chosen One]. A [Chosen One] needed to save the world. The Unbound was supposedly a global threat if left unchecked, but the gods would not have permitted such unchecked growth. They'd have stepped in and destroyed it. Since a [Chosen One] needed to save the world from a threat that would otherwise destroy it, meeting the qualifications required dealing with a problem that was beyond even the gods.
A problem such as two worlds being on a collision course.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Why had they let things progress so far? Yes, they'd said the tipping point had been one-and-a-half centuries earlier, but why didn't they destroy the place back then? Had they simply not realised the threat? What even did all that equipment do? Presumably smashing planets together wasn't its intended purpose. I knew past-me was involved, and that past-me seemed to be a bit of a dick, but surely even he wouldn't want to blow up the planet that he lived on?
... Although I suppose no-one had said the world this one was going to collide with had been past-me's home planet. Maybe there was a third place involved.
"That's a ponderous face you're wearing there," said a gruff voice, startling me out of my deliberations. "The Path Compendium? If you aren't content with [Assassin], I'd suggest [Archmage] or [Pathfinder]. Maybe [Weapons Master], if you don't mind limiting your use of stealth. I'd advise against [Knight] or any of the heavy armour types, given your light weight and balanced Dexterity."
I looked up just as the guild master—Duke Isunbloot—sat down, taking the seat opposite me on the table. It creaked ominously under the weight of his substantial musculature.
"Uh, thanks, I guess?" I said. "But I'll put on a bit of weight as I age."
Not that I wanted to deal with heavy armour. I'd rather dodge than tank hits. In fact, his suggestions were pretty reasonable, and I'd probably have picked one if not for [Chosen One] being hung over my head, letting me evolve Skills without needing a Path. I wouldn't have called them perfect, though. [Archmage] would have a negative impact on my physical Stats. [Weapons Master] would directly impact my magic, and making full use of its advantages would make it harder to employ stealth. [Pathfinder] didn't have any downside that would impact me, but neither would it give me the sort of boost to my combat power that the other two would. My research had shown just how full of trade-offs Paths were.
"Perhaps, but probably not as much as you're thinking. It's a little known effect, because people tend not to raise their Stats as high as yours before they finish growing, but Constitution's general effect of stabilising your body and resisting its change applies to even the earliest elements of ageing. I'm sorry to say that you're not likely to get much taller."
"... And suddenly I'm really glad the System doesn't unlock till sixteen," I muttered. "Anyway, to what do I owe this pleasure? I doubt you turned up simply to give me build advice."
"Hah. No need to be polite, kid. Just say it like it is; you think I'm here to cause you trouble."
I looked again at the guild master, who had almost certainly passed the fifth growth milestone, and who looked like he could crush a goblin's head in a bare hand even without the aid of Strength. His chair creaked again as he shifted position, his bulk casting most of my table into shadow.
"... If it's all the same to you, I'll remain polite."
He smirked knowingly, then slammed a piece of paper onto the table. I looked it over with interest. "A nominated quest?" I asked rhetorically as I saw the heading. "To investigate a Nephilim ruin? The heck's a Nephilim? Wait, this request came from the temple?"
The alarm bells in my head were getting quite a workout recently. Now they were all ringing once more.
"Are Nephilim, uhh... bigger than humans?" I asked, trying to remember how large the steps had been in my dream. "Like, maybe double or triple the height."
"That they are," confirmed the muscle-bound duke. "I see this isn't coming completely out of the blue for you."
"No..."
"Then how do you want to play it? You seem conflicted, and the location is a fair distance into the untamed lands. Not beyond the Jungle of Braccus, at least, but still not somewhere someone should be venturing at the second growth milestone, even with your advantages. Heck, even I would think twice before heading into the depths of that jungle."
I pondered for a moment as I considered how to respond. Having read all the sign-up documents, and having the Memory to recall them word-for-word, I knew what he was getting at. Nominated quests—jobs in which the commissioner requested the services of a specific individual or party—were only permitted for C-rank adventurers or above. I was still D-rank. The request was, technically, invalid. Duke Isunbloot considered it too dangerous for me to go, and wanted to use its illegality to reject it.
Conversely, he had obviously intuited that the temple hadn't put in this request on a whim, and so couldn't simply reject it out of hand. Hence, a duke had wandered into the guild library, straining its furniture under his substantial frame.
"I'm not sure I have much choice," I admitted. "As you said, this isn't completely out of the blue. A couple of nights back, I had an interesting dream. One I believe came from my [Guardian] Mark. The gods want me there for much the same reason that our king wanted me in Harvent Canton."
The guild master frowned. "Another Unbound?"
"No. In fact, I didn't see a single threat in the ruins. Not that I know how accurate the dream was—I don't see why any traps would have activated, for example, given that I wasn't really there. But there was a... uh... machine there. Something similar to what Count Harvent used to turn himself into an Unbound. That's the threat, this time. It's not like there's something actively eating the planet."
"So there's no active threat? Just a potential? If so, this should certainly be delayed. Maybe not as far out as the next dungeon break, but you should certainly pass the third or fourth growth milestone and get a few B-rank Skills under your belt. There's no call to throw yourself into danger for no reason."
"I have also been informed that the gods want me to depart within the week. And no, I don't know why they're rushing, either."
The frown grew, which wasn't a complete surprise. Saying it out loud just rubbed in how little sense this made. Were they worried that as I got more of my past-life's memories back, I'd want to crash the planet? But even if past-me didn't live here, current-me did!
"Tell you what. That orc job is still on our books. Why don't you take it while I go and talk to a few people. Point out that you can't yet receive nominated quests. Maybe knock some heads together. It's probably just a couple of priests trying to one-up each other, leading to them getting a bit unreasonable in their fervour. And then, if it somehow turns out that there is an urgency to all this, that orc job will make you eligible for promotion, we can give you your C rank and officially give you this job before the end of the week, and we can sweep the fact that it was issued before your promotion under the rug."
"Sounds good to me," I agreed. The note had only mentioned a single god, after all. "If someone's being unreasonable, it's Herak'w'mee or one of their priests."
"I doubt one of the gods is trying to one-up their peers, but I'll bear the name in mind."
"And I'll go stab some orcs," I said, returning the tomes to their shelves. Hopefully, even if this whole colliding-planets problem was past-me's fault, current-me could shove it off onto future-me.
Patreon.
Which stories do you want to see side stories from?
