Watcher of Fate

Elara and Lily stepped carefully into the ruins, their eyes sweeping over the crumbling stone walls and half-buried structures. The air was cooler within the confines of the ancient settlement, the tall, weathered walls providing some respite from the growing heat of the morning sun. Sand had piled up against the bases of old pillars and filled the corners of shattered archways. Still, enough of the old settlement remained intact to suggest that it had once been a place of significance, perhaps a temple or a gathering place long ago.

The central courtyard caught Lily's attention first. It was the most intact part of the ruins, a relatively flat, open space surrounded by partially collapsed walls that could still provide some defense. “This will do,” Lily said, eyes scanning the area with scrutiny and approval. “It’s a good spot for the ritual. Open enough to create the casting circle but with walls high enough to provide cover. But we need to make sure we’re not too exposed.”

Elara nodded in agreement. “We’ll need to conceal this area as much as possible. The last thing we need is something wandering in or spotting us from a distance.”

Lily turned to her with a small, confident smile. “That’s where your illusions come in, Elara. Use [Altered Reality] to disguise the courtyard. Make it look like part of the ruined landscape, broken walls, piles of rubble, whatever you think fits. The key is to blend it seamlessly with the surrounding environment.”

Elara nodded, focusing her mind as she activated [Altered Reality]. She felt the familiar threads of white and silver magic weave together in her mind, like strands of light and force knitting into a tapestry of illusion. She visualized the crumbling walls around them, extending their shadows and jagged edges to fill in the gaps of the central courtyard. She imagined piles of sand and rubble, overgrown with dry, twisted desert shrubs, spreading over the open space where they would be working.

Slowly, the illusion began to take shape. The courtyard seemed to transform before her eyes, the broken stone walls stretching higher, the open ground filling with scattered debris and wild desert growth. To an outside observer, it would appear as nothing more than another undisturbed and unremarkable part of the ruined settlement.

Lily watched with a critical eye, nodding as the illusion solidified. “Good,” she said, her voice approving. “That should do nicely. Just remember to keep it up and maintain the focus. Illusions can be fragile things, but if you’re careful, they’ll hold.”

Elara looked through the veil of her illusion at Lily, who was already beginning to draw out the symbols for the ritual. She was meticulous, marking the ground with lines and circles that glowed faintly in the growing daylight, creating a casting circle that would hold for the 24-hour ritual. Elara felt a pang of nervousness watching her, knowing how much depended on this being done right.

Time seemed to stretch and compress as the hours passed. Elara took up a position near the courtyard's edge, half-resting while keeping a vigilant watch. The sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays beating mercilessly on the desert ruins. She remained focused, keeping the illusion intact, her eyes constantly scanning for any movement beyond the safety of their concealed space.

The sun reached its zenith, casting short, harsh shadows over the ruins. The heat became almost unbearable, but Elara remained steady, her gaze shifting between the landscape and Lily, who was deep into the ritual. The Kitsune moved with a measured grace, her concentration unwavering as she chanted softly, weaving the ancient magic required to prepare the class selection. Hours passed, the shadows lengthening once more as the sun continued its journey across the sky.

As the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the desert in hues of gold and amber, Elara allowed herself a moment to stretch and ease the tension in her muscles. She had been on high alert for hours, her mind attuned to every shift in the wind, every distant call of a desert bird. She was exhausted but knew she couldn’t afford to let her guard down, not when they were this close.

Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, Elara’s senses sharpened. Her eyes narrowed as she caught the faint rustling sound emanating from the shadows beyond the ruined walls. She scanned the perimeter, her gaze piercing through the illusion she had cast over the central courtyard. At first, nothing was there, just the shifting sand and crumbling stone bathed in the deepening twilight. But then, slowly, a new movement began to stir within the shadows, something deliberate and unnervingly unnatural.

Emerging from the dark recesses of the ruins, figures began to crawl out from hidden cracks in the walls and the shadowy crevices where the light of day rarely reached. They moved with an eerie, jerking motion as if unused to life, their limbs twisting and contorting in alien and disturbing ways. Their skeletal frames were wrapped in ragged remnants of armor, rusted and worn with age, clinging to their gaunt bodies like ancient skin. Tattered cloaks, once perhaps the deep colors of warriors or guards, now hung in filthy, decayed strips that fluttered softly in the desert breeze.

Elara’s breath hitched as the creatures came further into view. They were undead horrors that bore the visage of those long deceased, cursed to linger in this world as grotesque mockeries of their former selves. Their flesh, what little remained, was pulled taut over brittle bones, almost mummified by time. Skin and sinew had peeled away entirely in some places, revealing darkened, blackened bones beneath. Their eyes glowed with an evil, otherworldly light, an eerie, cold blue that flickered like ghostly flames in empty sockets.

Each Wight moved slowly and deliberately, their heads turning toward the central courtyard as if drawn by the scent of life or the stirring magic in the air. Their mouths, lipless and cracked, opened in silent, gaping maws, and a low, unearthly hiss seemed to emanate from their throats like the whisper of wind through a graveyard. Some of them clutched rusted weapons, old swords, spears, and axes held in skeletal hands gripped with unnatural strength. Though dulled with age and wear, the blades were still dangerous, jagged edges glinting faintly in the last light of dusk.

Elara focused on one of the creatures, her eyes narrowing as she activated [Cognizance] to assess the threat. The information box appeared before her, providing the details she needed:

[Lvl 24 Wight Warrior (Common: 72)]

The [Wight]s continued to emerge, their numbers growing as more of them crawled out from beneath the rubble or dragged themselves up from beneath piles of ancient bones and debris. Some were more degraded than others; one [Wight] had half its skull missing, revealing a dark cavity where its mind once was, while another bore the remnants of a once-impressive helmet, now cracked and tarnished, that obscured its hollow, glowing eyes.

They moved as a group, a silent, grim procession advancing toward the courtyard where Lily continued her ritual. Their eyes, devoid of life but filled with a haunting awareness, locked onto the source of the magical disturbance like predators scenting blood. Their bodies shifted and jerked with an unnatural fluidity as if driven by some unseen force, and yet there was a sense of malevolent purpose behind their movements.

---

Lily’s mind was fully immersed in the ritual, her senses attuned to the magic she was weaving. She could feel the energies flowing around her, a steady hum that vibrated in her bones and echoed in her thoughts. She maintained her focus, her hands moving with practiced precision as she traced the lines of the casting circle, her voice chanting the ancient incantations that would open the path to a new class selection. She could sense Elara beyond the boundaries of the illusion, standing vigilant, keeping watch to ensure the ritual remained undisturbed.

But slowly, the world around Lily began to shift. The solid ground beneath her feet seemed to dissolve, and the colors of the ruins faded into darkness. The rhythmic hum of the ritual gave way to a low, distant thrumming, like the beating of a great drum. She felt her senses slipping away from the physical world, the weight of her body becoming light as air until she was floating, suspended in an endless black void. There was a moment of stillness, a deep silence stretching like an eternity.

Then, abruptly, she began to fall.

Lily’s body plummeted through the darkness, a rush of cold air whipping past her as she descended deeper and deeper. The void around her swallowed all light and sound, save for the roar of wind in her ears and the racing of her heart. Her stomach twisted with the sensation of freefall, and she braced herself for whatever awaited her at the bottom of this abyss.

And then, with a jarring suddenness, she landed. Her feet hit solid ground, her body crouching instinctively to absorb the impact. The stone beneath her was cool and smooth, and she steadied herself, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden change in her surroundings. As she rose, she realized she stood in the center of a vast circular chamber, the darkness now lit by a warm, flickering glow.

Lily looked around, her golden eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. She stood at the center of the chamber, and around her were three distinct rings of statues arranged in perfect concentric circles. Each statue was crafted from terracotta, a reddish-brown clay that gave it an earthy, ancient feel. They were life-sized and carved with meticulous detail, each representing a different class option.

She turned slowly, her gaze moving from statue to statue. She was in the innermost ring, surrounded by the most common classes available. There were numerous statues standing shoulder to shoulder in a tight circle around her. They depicted figures of Kitsune, each in a simple pose that captured the essence of their class. She saw a Kitsune holding a pair of daggers. Eyes narrowed with a rogue’s cunning; another stood with a quarterstaff, its stance calm and disciplined, representing a monk. A third was armored with a shield raised, a protector’s determination etched into its expression, perhaps a guardian or a knight. Each statue was expertly crafted but plain, unadorned with flourishes, reflecting their common classes' straightforward nature.

Lily moved beyond the first ring and stepped into the middle circle, where the statues were farther apart. These were the uncommon classes, more specialized and more potent than their common counterparts. The statues here were different from those in the innermost ring. Their poses were more dynamic, capturing the energy and movement of their respective roles. She passed a Kitsune holding a longbow. Its body twisted as if in the middle of a graceful shot, an Archer class, but with a hint of magic lacing its arrow. Nearby, an Oni statue towered, its stone muscles rippling as it wielded a warhammer with a sense of controlled fury, likely a Berserker or a Battlemaster. She saw a Kitsune wearing flowing robes with hands raised, manipulating what appeared to be an invisible force, its expression focused and intense, a Mentalist or a Psion.

There were fewer statues here than in the inner circle, but each one radiated an undeniable sense of presence and power. The terracotta figures seemed to pulse with a potential that could only be unlocked by those who sought more than the ordinary. With easy steps, Lily walked back to the center of the room.

Lily stood in the center of the chamber. Her eyes closed as she focused on the pulsing energy surrounding her. The weight of the decision pressed down on her shoulders like a physical force, the tension in the air thick and heavy. She could feel the presence of the statues around her, each one representing a potential future, a path she could take. But she needed clarity. She needed to cut through the noise and see what truly mattered.

With a slow, deliberate breath, she raised her hand and waved it in a commanding gesture. “Eliminate all common classes,” she said, her voice steady and clear, echoing through the vast chamber. She felt the world respond to her command, the air seeming to ripple with unseen power. She opened her eyes to see the statues of the inner ring, the countless common classes that surrounded her, begin to dissolve into dust. One by one, they faded away, their forms crumbling silently until the entire innermost ring was empty, leaving only the two outer rings remaining.

The space felt clearer now, less cluttered. But there was more she needed to filter out. She took another breath, her mind honing in on what she truly sought. “Remove any [Noble] class upgrades,” she commanded. Instantly, the chamber obeyed. Several statues from uncommon and rare rings flickered and disappeared, vanishing into the darkness like shadows at dawn. The statues representing [Noble] paths or their related upgrades, those bound to the expectations and responsibilities of aristocracy, were gone, leaving more gaps in the circles.

Lily nodded to herself, feeling the chamber shift around her, becoming less crowded and more focused. She was getting closer to what she needed. Now, there was one more thing to address that had been on her mind for a long time. She raised her hand one last time, her voice softer but filled with a deep, personal longing. “Highlight my father’s heritage class.”

For a moment, the chamber was still. Then, a soft, warm glow appeared on the outermost ring of statues, illuminating a single figure with a focused beam of light. Lily turned her gaze toward it and felt her breath catch in her throat. The light had settled on a rare Oni statue, standing tall and imposing among the remaining options. The statue depicted a massive Oni warrior, its body seemingly engulfed in a perpetual blaze of stone-carved flames. Its expression was fierce, yet its eyes had a sense of wisdom and calm. The figure held a large nine-ring broadsword, its blade wide and formidable, the rings embedded within the steel clinking softly as if they could move with the slightest touch.

Lily’s heart clenched with pride and sorrow as she approached the statue. She could almost feel the heat radiating from the sculpted flames, the presence of power and strength her father once embodied. This class had defined him as a [Hellfire Juggernaut], a rare and powerful Oni class known for its devastating combination of raw strength and fiery magic. He had wielded that power with honor and ferocity, a true warrior.

She reached up, her fingers brushing against the cool terracotta surface of the statue’s chest. She could feel the ridges and grooves of the carved flames beneath her fingertips, the craftsmanship almost lifelike. “I miss you, Father,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the vast chamber. She closed her eyes and leaned in, wrapping her arms around the statue’s massive torso, hugging it tightly. It was as if she could feel his presence again, strong and protective, like the last embers of a fire that had long since burned out.

After a moment, she pulled back, a bittersweet smile on her lips. She took one last look at the statue, the symbol of her heritage and the path she could have taken, before turning away and returning to the center of the chamber.

Standing again in the middle of the space, Lily took a deep breath and pulled up her status screen.

---

Name: Yomotsuhi Lilith

Race: Kitsune

Class: Noble LOCKED LVL 36

Class: Nascent

Level: (15,713 of 0) 0

Resources:

HP: 7,725 of 7,725 (11.2/min)

Energy: 18,834 of 18,834 (9.0/sec)

Attributes:

Armor Class: 46

Strength: 64

Dexterity: 131 (144)

Constitution: 84

Perception: 125 (125)

Intelligence: 157 (188)

Resolve: 136 (163)

Free Points: 0

Class Skills:

Hellfire Swordsmanship (Legendary): 36

Commanding Presence (Rare): 31

Strategic Mind (Rare): 34

Racial Skills:

Foxfire (Legendary): 36

Inari's Blessing (Rare): 23

Unified Presence (Legendary): 36

Weaver's Insight (Rare): 36

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