Blind Chaos - Tales Beneath the Dragoneye Moons

“Out of the question.” Tatius’ refusal was so absolute that he had crossed his arms over his chest.

“It’s not a kill mission, the job outright requires him brought back alive to face justice.” Ranthia argued.

“Plus, he was lower level than the kid is, I think we should go for it.” Pupius piled on.

The argument circled for a while, but finally—miraculously—Tatius gave in and assented. They had been through quite a few missions over the past year-and-change, and Ranthia wasn’t quite as small as she had once been. Tatius continued to try to treat her like a girl—he even continually insisted on giving her sweets on every birthday, despite her dislike of them—and to protect her childhood as best an Adventurer could. But sooner or later, he had to acknowledge that she was growing up.

By Remus’ twisted logic, she was only another year or two away from being expected to marry.

But with his agreement, they would hunt down the boy. He had been romantically involved with the middle son of a small merchant family, until he suddenly stole the boyfriend’s late mother’s jewelry that she had given him before she passed. It was the kind of crime that made your blood boil to hear about it: breaking someone’s heart over greed.

The job was done, and the group was in the midst of their return journey. Ranthia was covered in dirt and mud and her left arm was crusted with dried blood. Her blood, along with the remnants of the blood clotting potions she had been forced to use.

Tatius drove the boy back towards the town, the boy’s arms roughly pinned behind his back and held firmly in Tatius’ steel grasp. The look on his face screamed that he’d love nothing more than to apply a bit more pressure and snap the kid’s limbs.

Pupius limped shoeless—his sandals had fallen victim to a different one of the brat’s traps—while he cradled the pouch that contained the damaged jewelry.

The shit had tried to smash his stolen loot when they finished breaking through all of the traps he had set up. Fortunately, he’d been too stupid to keep an escape route for himself; his entire plan had been to turtle up behind his traps in that cave until people gave up and decided he could keep his ill-gotten gains.

The first time she had ever entered a cave—nearly four years ago—Tatius had advised her to stop and really absorb everything. He had claimed that her first descent into a natural cave was wondrous and special, like a gateway to another world. And after that, each and every cave would just be another dusty or damp hole.

He had been right, but she hated the cave of traps more than most.

Gods her arm hurt. And itched. She was no stranger to cuts, bruises, scrapes, and the thousands of other minor indignities that Adventurers tolerated. But having four wooden spikes driven almost all the way through the flesh of her arm wasn’t quite like anything she had suffered through before.

She was equally grumpy that she’d been forced into using [Metal Menace] like your garden variety artillery mage to handle some of the traps. [Iron Decoys] were used like shields to slow down or bypass some of the traps too. The class had leveled 11 times in the two days that they smashed their way through the cave of How On Pallos Did This Brat Set So Many Thrice-Cursed Traps In Less Than Eight Days.

Which wasn’t the best of signs, but finally she had gotten both [Deceptive Decoy Mage] and [Metal Menace] to level 128. She just wanted to get back into civilization, class up, bathe, eat something, and sleep. Preferably all at the same time, no matter how impossible that was.

“Greetings, once again.” Ranthia’s guide called out the moment that Ranthia entered the world within herself.

Ranthia aggressively scratched at her left arm instead of replying. Not that the injuries transferred here, but her mind appreciated the chance to finally allow herself to scratch after she had spent days carefully resisting the urge. For a few moments she just reveled in the ability to scratch her arm and its lack of pain.

“Are you done?” Her guide asked wryly when Ranthia finally stopped and stepped up to the counter.

“If they announce that jerk’s getting executed, I’m staying in town until I can dance on the ashes from his pyre.” Ranthia non-answered bitterly.

After she vented, Ranthia took a deep breath and withdrew the short sword, hilt wrapped in pale red, with a diamond pommel, and set it down on the counter.

“I guess this is it.” Ranthia looked across the reds, oranges, and yellows that stretched through the armory, and smiled with a courage that she didn’t feel. “Bring me the merged Mirror class that carries us the furthest towards our goals!”

The guide accepted the short sword and returned it to its basket before she turned back and moved among the swords.

Technically Ranthia had been able to class up for a while, [Metal Menace] hadn’t needed to be capped in order to merge into [Deceptive Decoy Mage], but the extra stats promised to be useful and Ranthia suspected that it advanced her odds a bit. She needed the classes to merge, since she only had one more class up—going by conventional wisdom, since allegedly no one reached level 768—and her goals were far more ambitious than the mere acquisition of the Mirror element.

She would either succeed here and now or—

“There are no classes available that meet your request.”

—Or everything was going to go badly.

None of the short swords in the entire armory represented a Mirror class, and none of them merged with [Metal Menace]. Ranthia had a small heap of Light short swords that slightly furthered her Light decoys, a few sidegrades into other basic elements (Fire decoys sounded vaguely neat but mostly useless), and a single Brilliance option that revolved around blinding and blasting her opponents.

Ranthia had cursed with increasing volume and complexity as her guide carefully walked her through her options.

Realistically, she wasn’t completely screwed. There was still the option of waiting until the level 256 class up. …But a basic Mirror aspected class wasn’t what she was after! Level 256 was already a tier that only the most senior and veteran Adventurers ever reached, and yet the next class upgrade opportunity wasn’t until level 768. …She had never seen anyone even close to that level, not among the Adventurers nor Remus’ elite Rangers, and there were no clear records of even anyone that had reached level 512 to unlock their third class.

In other words, if she waited for level 256 to get her first Mirror class, her goals were likely going to be out of reach for her entire life. They had always been a longshot…

That was the crux of why Ranthia was so pissed off. She knew that the smart choice was to take the damned Brilliance class, [Brilliantly Blinding Beauty], and find a new path in life. The class was legitimately decent—and was actually yellow in quality, a major jump from the pale reds she had ever been offered and the highest quality class she had received to date—and promised to make a proper Adventurer out of her. She knew it would let her support Tatius and Pupius.

…But that was the problem. It wasn’t her. The class represented the path of a supporter. She never wanted to just spend her entire life supporting the two men. She wanted to fight alongside them. She needed something… more.

She needed to be more.

“We’re resetting.” Ranthia whispered.

“Are you certain? It is true that this is not the plan, but—”

“Just bring me [Magissistant] again!” Ranthia snapped, cutting her older self off.

There was no way to consult Tatius and Pupius. Once you began to class up, you had to finish it. You had to take a class, you had to walk forward… or you had to walk backwards. Ranthia, for the first time in her life—as far as she knew—opted for the latter.

She would return to level 8 in her first class. [Deceptive Decoy Mage] would disappear, along with [Light Conjuration] and [Light Haze]. Gods, she was even going to lose her progress that allowed her to create [Homunculus of Light], since it hadn’t originally been a part of [Magissistant].

But she refused to back down. She had spent her entire life pursuing her dreams.

…She just hoped Tatius and Pupius would understand.

Her guide delivered the blade. The class was exactly what it had once been, back when she first classed up. The blade felt far too light in her hand, like something meant for a child far smaller than she was.

She had grown.

And she was determined to grow in the direction that she desired.

“I’ll be back for [Metal Menace], to upgrade it.” Ranthia promised, before she turned and left the world within.

Ranthia woke up again and Pupius noticed immediately. He started to say something, but Ranthia ignored him and immediately fell back within herself to class up her second class.

Her options were better that time. There was a weird Mantle sidegrade that would have allowed her to conjure blunt weaponry to hit things with… which felt like a complete wildcard since it had no relation to anything she had ever done. But, in the end, she took [Steel Doll], which was more-or-less a straight upgrade of [Metal Menace] that improved the decoys further. …And it, at the very least, was pale orange in quality.

“I really hope Tatius and Pupius will accept my decision…” Ranthia hesitated before she left, suddenly nervous.

“It’s not like you can change your mind at this point. Go on, I’ll see you soon.” Her guide replied coolly.

The woman had been slightly frosty ever since Ranthia had thrown her tantrum during her prior class up that resulted in her reset.

Ranthia sighed and nodded. She still took a moment to compose herself while she reminded herself that there was no way Tatius and Pupius would abandon her. She knew that she was being selfish… but her goal was important. …Not that the men truly understood it, but she had always kept quiet about just who she truly was and…

Before she managed to lose her nerve, Ranthia left the world of her soul once again.

Pupius was gone by the time Ranthia woke up again. …At least both classes had been [Mage] classes, so it wasn’t like her tag changed, because now her Metal class was in the lead. Fortunately, she hadn’t received an Advanced class yet, so it wasn’t like her eye color had changed. For a few terrible moments, Ranthia considered just lying to the men rather than admitting to the reset. But after she took a few deep breaths, she was ready to throw aside that terrible—and frankly unworkable—idea. She needed to be honest with the men.

[Name: Ranthia]

[Species: Human]

[Age: 12]

[Mana: 2360/2260]

[Mana Regen Rate: 897]

[Stats:]

[Free Stats: 3]

[Strength: 22]

[Dexterity: 153]

[Vitality: 253]

[Speed: 59]

[Mana: 236]

[Mana Regeneration: 138]

[Magic Power: 348]

[Magic Control: 212]

[Class 1: [Magissistant – Light (8)]]

[Light Affinity: 8]

[Light Manipulation: 8]

[Light Resistance: 8]

[Spell Reworking: 8]

-

-

-

-

[Class 2: [Steel Doll – Metal (129)]]

[Metal Affinity: 129]

[Metal Conjuration: 129]

[Metal Manipulation: 129]

[Steel Decoys: 129]

[Puppeteering: 116]

[Basic Armaments: 129]

[Restore Doll: 1]

[Doll Deployment: 1]

[Class 3: Locked]

[General Skills:]

[Identify: 129]

[Combat: 129]

[Knives: 129]

[Dodging: 129]

[Boosted Reflexes: 129]

[Fast Learner: 92]

[Silent Steps: 93]

[Cute: 71]

Gods and Goddesses, her stats were a mess. She had lost all of the free stats that she had ever received through her first class—aside from when she was a [Child of Pallos]—and she hadn’t really consciously considered just how badly her mana regen rate depended on the boost from her Light element.

She wasn’t much of a [Mage] and she promised to be an even worse combatant than ever.

She rejected her regrets, but they gnawed at her no matter how she shoved them aside. She had made her choice! This was for the best.

…Wasn’t it?

It wasn’t like she could undo what she had done though.

But she hoped—and very nearly broke her own rules to pray—that she hadn’t just effectively destroyed herself. Tatius and Pupius had to understand.

Because if they didn’t, if they abandoned her, she wasn’t convinced that she could survive as she had just become.

The duo weren’t angry… but they were displeased and Ranthia couldn’t fool herself for a moment into believing that they weren’t.

No one had yelled. Neither of them had accused her, and if they were judging her harshly they managed a remarkable job of keeping it off their faces.

But she knew they were disappointed. With her first class reduced back to level 8, her already tenuous contributions to their Adventurer jobs were further limited. Worse, her stats had been skewed in ways that she wasn’t used to, her instincts on her mana regeneration, magic control, and to a lesser extent her physical prowess were all off. That meant there would be further time lost to retraining herself.

Privately, Ranthia suspected that Pupius seemed to be impressed by her reasoning. It was… a difficult decision to burn your present for the sake of your future, and Ranthia knew for a fact that most people wouldn’t have had the gumption for it. Though Ranthia still had [Steel Doll] to lean on, life promised to get harder, and their prospects promised to get leaner for a time.

But, in the end, the men accepted her decision. There was no discussion—vocal or otherwise—about abandoning her. And Ranthia promised herself that she would never forget that. She needed to be forever grateful to the men for giving her such a precious opportunity.

And, of course, she was grateful to Xaoc for His role (however indirect it might be, and Ranthia refused to speculate about that) in leading her into the care of the duo. Without them her life would have promised to be… difficult.

But Ranthia wasn’t dead in some ditch, not yet. She could still improve.

She would find her way back to the path she intended to walk, no matter what it took.