Once again, the characters on the prompt blinked.
Was he dreaming? Had his hatred, his regret, his… yearning, caused this? And what were these
But although confused, he was nevertheless interested.
The loop of horrific visions, these intense feelings of guilt, of shame… He had to do something, anything, to wash it all away…
But was retribution ultimately it? Was this who he was?
But this question, although heavy, was immediately answered in the back of his mind: why not?
It was the solution, the only available solution, to his struggles, and while he hadn't believed in such methods until his dying breath, he knew it had to be done, not just for him, but also for those who had suffered from his shortcomings.
Plus, he had already died, so what more could he possibly lose?
"Well, it can't be any worse, can it? Yes, I want to take revenge!"
[Selection accepted.]
[Host's transfer has begun. 10%…33%…71%…94%…100%.]
[Success!]
[Moving 'Host' to a new location on the continent…]
Out of nowhere, a vortex of light suddenly materialized around him, cleansing the void and darkness previously shrouding everything.
It was mystical, almost bordering on the divine.
And then, a flash. A flash so bright he lost himself in the phenomenon, its mechanism so otherworldly his mind froze despite living and feeling through it all.
It happened fast, too fast, to the point where he even lost his sense of time, its elusive concept drowning his consciousness while his hearing became overstimulated by a screeching and deafening sound, his eyes forced open to confront its origin.
"What the hell?! Have I really moved somewhere else? And this…? This isn't my body… No… This feels different."
His breathing was rough and the pain, nigh unbearable.
It felt like he had just been shredded into tiny pieces before being put back together, his brain one of the first test subjects.
But this was too much. Way too much. He needed to regain control and fast, or he'd lose all agency to sanely deal with these stimuli.
One by one, he began shutting down his senses, his first being his sight, as he wanted to focus on the pain radiating throughout his body.
Breathe in, breathe out…
The calm and silent flow of air entering and leaving his body gradually settled him down, with the pain subsiding as time went by. From his lungs ceasing to burn, to his legs not violently throbbing, to his heart not threatening to break his rib cage… These all felt like wins worth celebrating.
Hours flew by before his mind and body finally reached a point where he felt comfortable enough to think and move again, his impatience getting the best of him at last.
"So I was reborn… And naked at that!"
The concept was so strange and absurd he couldn't really believe it, his brain rejecting any explanation he mustered. It didn't matter if it was from a logical, philosophical or spiritual side… Nothing, at least for now, could explain his self being transported elsewhere in a foreign body.
But despite this frustration, he was still satisfied. After all, who was he to complain?
Had he not wished for a new start following his pathetic end? And had it not been granted?
Overthinking such a miraculous second chance accomplished nothing, a conclusion he was perfectly fine accepting.
There was a bit of a problem, however: his new location was a complete mystery, since this… God? System?… had sent him to a place nearly devoid of light.
But despite these challenging conditions, he still managed to deduce that he was in a small cave, in which his vision was surprisingly quite good despite the heavy darkness.
"This new body's just amazing!"
After fumbling around a bit, he luckily found a small puddle of water next to a rocky and mossy wall, which allowed him to catch a glimpse of his new self.
His body, or new body for that matter, was that of a 16-year-old teenager. He was quite handsome, sturdy and tall. His previously dark hair had also turned golden, with unfathomably deep green eyes replacing his pale brown ones.
This was quite the replacement indeed.
Once satisfied with this little inspection, Derrick's expression grew serious.
"I remember seeing a system of sorts… Where is it now? Is it gone?"
Barely had he finished his sentence did a window appear in the depth of his consciousness, stunning him in place.
[
[Welcome, Derrick Tarlin! You have been granted the opportunity to seek revenge. Here are the characteristics of your body:]
[Derrick Tarlin, 16 (Body) & 37 (Mind) — Human]
[Class: None]
[Strength: 1.5]
[Agility: 1.0]
[Endurance: 1.0]
[Vitality: 2.0]
[Magic Power: 1.0]
[Traits: Enhanced body, Enhanced vision.]
[Skills: Appraisal.]
"This is unbelievable! I never thought I'd get a second chance like this! But what do those numbers mean? What's a class?"
[The numbers are based on the measure of a common entity. A value of 1 means a multiple of 1, meaning you are on par with said entity, with higher values also following this principle. For example, your vitality of 2 means it's twice as good.]
[Classes, meanwhile, grant you related skills and traits. You may even create unique skills if your mastery reaches the necessary levels.]
Derrick was flabbergasted. He'd be able to learn skills by just choosing a class?!
"How do I choose one?"
[The system can show you a list to select from. Would you like to see it?]
"Yes! Show me their descriptions as well."
[The system's list only has 4 classes: Necromancer, Sorcerer, Spartan, and Berserker.]
[Necromancer: A magician that specializes in the practice of dark magic. It also involves communicating with the dead – either by summoning their spirits or by raising their corpses. This class allows you to summon, or tame, more entities as you grow. It's a rare and powerful class, but it is also despised and shunned by all. Certain side effects may also be observed over a long period of time.]
[Sorcerer: A magician that uses knowledge to further the concepts of magic. In the magical realm, they are jack-of-all-trades, but master of none. It's an uncommon class, and they are well-educated scholars that are viewed favorably wherever they go.]
[Spartan: A warrior class that excels in the military field. They are able to master all weapons and have a keen sense of fighting tactics. Their body strength is second to none, while also possessing unparalleled agility. They are common throughout the general populace, but the mastery shown is very low.]
[Berserker: A tank-type class that specializes in unrestrained brute strength. Its might is incomparable, and its vitality, frightening. The backlash of such a class is that their inhuman bloodlust makes them lose all rationality for a short period of time. Berserkers are usually used as trump cards to turn the tides during wars. It's a rare, but terrifying class.]
After reading thoroughly, he began to ponder. Right now, he was in an unfamiliar environment, devoid of anything but rocks and soil and with no notion whatsoever about fighting or magic.
This decision just had to rely on a process of elimination, and so he began.
Naturally, the first class he got rid of was the Spartan one, since he was dead in the water without weapons. Next came the Sorcerer's, but not entirely. Sure, he didn't have immediate access to books nor knowledge, but it was still a viable option, especially with the remaining choices.
"Berserker, uh…"
Despite its appeal, it was a quick no, especially with the side effect mentioned. Losing his head among the unknown, he thought, was a death sentence no matter how he sliced it.
And so, his last two options emerged: Sorcery or Necromancy.
Both had their drawbacks while also being in the same category, meaning it'd have to come down to usefulness.
"Sorcery's obviously better, but since I'd start from scratch, I'd have to gamble on stumbling upon a spell, or whatever they're called… Necromancy, on the other hand, would allow me to see if there are spirits near me. Maybe even some that could lead me to the exit…"
He fought between the two for a while, but there was a clear advantage, at least in his mind and for the situation he was currently in.
"It seems like being a loner is just unavoidable in my case…"
A slight, restful smile formed on his face. He'd be viewed as a heretic of the dark arts, but he didn't care.
Ultimately, his only goal was to make those creatures pay while enjoying his new life to the fullest.
Actually... No... Making them pay would barely achieve anything. Would it feel good? Yes. But really, where did they come from? Why did his village, which had never seen monsters before, suddenly get attacked?
He had to look for the true culprit, the one behind all that carnage and suffering: their progenitor.
He had virtually nothing to go on, but he'd stop at nothing to kill the responsible with his bare hands. This was his promise, and one that was accompanied by a vow to never feel powerless again.
The determination in his eyes grew fiercer, and within was born an unquenchable thirst for power.
"System, I want to be a Necromancer!"