Jester saw Vale up ahead. Walking with his usual absent-minded stride. His white hair was gleaming in the morning sun.
Vale was getting as much direct attention as Jester. They were partners in this, after all. Unlike him, Vale didn't seem to be affected at all with all the attentions.
Vale returned a handful of greetings with a polite, almost regal nod. His green eyes scanning the crowd with a detached observation.
"Morning, Bard!" Jester greeted.
"Yo!" Vale responded. A small smirk played on his lips. "Enjoying the sudden fame?"
Jester rolled his eyes. "It's weird. Like suddenly everyone knows your deepest, darkest secret, but instead of shunning you, they want an autograph."
"Well, we did revolutionize the Awakening Ceremony." Vale said with a shrug. "It was bound to happen. Now, about today. Have you thought about it?"
"The Power Classes?" Jester asked. He understood it immediately. That was the second step to gain power after all.
Vale nodded. Not even paying attention that Jester hadn't exactly answered his question. As usual, he had quickly lost in his own daydream. Jester didn't mind him. It was just... normal
They entered the bustling school grounds. The usual morning chatter amplified by a palpable buzz of excitement.
Students who had awakened their Soulheart Gear yesterday were practically glowing. Their newfound power was visible in their confident postures and eager expressions.
Their first class wasn't a standard lecture on history or mathematics. Instead, it was held in the large assembly hall. Usually reserved for town meetings or school plays.
The headmaster, a stern but fair woman named Ms. Cyantrace, stood at a podium. Her gaze sweeping over the assembled students.
Jester noticed that only students from his class were here. The other classes of his generation were not here.
He quickly understood. Only students from his class were awakened last Saturday. Just twenty five students. The others were postponed for a month.
"Good morning, students!" Ms. Cyantrace began. Her voice was calm but authoritative. Instantly silencing the hall. "As you are all aware, the Awakening Ceremony the day before yesterday marked a pivotal moment in your lives."
She paused as she looked proudly at Jester and Vale for a moment. "Every one of you, I am proud to say, has awakened Soulheart Gear with a star power level exceeding zero. This means you are all now capable of choosing a Power Class."
She paused. Letting the significance of her words sink in. Jester saw a few excited whispers break out. Quickly hushed by a look from Ms. Cyantrace.
"Unlike the Soulheart Gear Awakening..." She continued. "... which is a deeply personal and often unconscious development, Power Classes are a conscious choice. They represent a fundamental shift in your education. From this day forward, your curriculum will be tailored to developing the knowledge and skills associated with your chosen class."
She gestured to a large display displayed behind her. Projected by an old projector nearby. Showcasing a list of titles.
"As a reminder... There are nine Power Classes available." She continued. "Each offers a unique path to developing your abilities. You may, if you wish, combine classes. But understand that specializing in one path is generally more efficient in the early stages of your development."
Jester leaned forward. Absorbing every word. This was it. The next step. He had learned about this. But, he wouldn't mind a review.
Ms. Cyantrace began to list them. The picture on the display changed. Showing a muscular man and a lithe woman. Both were wearing minimal metal armor protection. The man hold a spear. The woman used sword and shield.
"First, the Fighter. This class focuses on mastering various combat techniques. It is for those who wish to become proficient with a wide array of weapons, unarmed combat, and strategic engagement."
Jester nodded. He immediately thought of his Nunchaku. A fighter would definitely be able to maximize its potential. It was a possible choice.
The picture changed...
"Next, the Barbarian. This path emphasizes raw instinct, channeling emotions into devastating power, and relying on pure, unbridled strength and resilience."
He dismissed this almost instantly. He could be impulsive indeed. But, his strengths lay more in cunning and speed than brute force. Plus, he wasn't really the rage-fueled type.
The display changed again...
"Then, the Knight. This class is for those who prioritize tenacity, discipline, and defense. Knights are the bulwarks of our society, protecting others with their unwavering courage and robust defenses."
Again, not quite him. He respected the Knights. But he preferred agility to heavy armor. Quick strikes to long, drawn-out defensive stands.
Next one...
"The Hunter. This class hones perception and senses, excelling in tracking, survival, and exploiting environmental advantages to overcome foes."
Now, this resonated a bit more. His Toonworld avatar, a hare, was naturally perceptive. It was the best stat other than agility. And in Sherra, facing dungeons and demons, survival skills were paramount.
And then...
"For those with an eye for precision, there is the Marksman. This class focuses on accuracy, range, and mastering projectile weapons, becoming deadly from a distance."
Definitely not for him. He didn't have a long range weapon yet in the Toonworld. He was currently a close-quarters fighter. As his Nunchaku choice confirmed.
Further different picture...
"The Rogue. This path emphasizes dexterity, cunning tricks, stealth, and exploiting weaknesses. Rogues are agile, opportunistic, and masters of evasion."
This. This felt right. His jolly prankster personality. His love for quick, smart solutions. And the speed-boosting [Toon Momentum] of his Nunchaku.
A Rogue's agility and cunning would synergize perfectly with his emerging fighting style. He could already imagine using the Nunchaku in unexpected ways. Tripping opponents. Disarming them. Striking their toes. Smacking their faces.
Ms. Cyantrace continued. Moving onto the magic-focused classes. The picture on the display kept changing for each introduction.
"The Acolyte. Drawing power from faith, Acolytes harness divine or spiritual magic for healing, protection, and smiting otherworldly threats."
"The Druid. Connected to the natural world, Druids wield nature-based magic, summoning beasts, controlling plants, and manipulating the elements."
"And finally, the Sorcerer. These individuals tap into raw arcane energies, manifesting powerful spells through sheer force of will and intellect."
Jester listened to the magic classes. But his interest was purely academic. He had no magical aptitude. As far as he knew.
And his Soulheart Gear didn't hint at any. Except for his [Magic: ✪] stat. His path was clearly physical. At least for now. A rapid, close-combat style.
He glanced at Vale, who was listening intently. A thoughtful expression was on his face. Vale's Soulheart Gear was a musical instrument. It would likely lead him down a very different path from him.
Perhaps Druid or Sorcerer. Given his focus on sound and resonance. He couldn't picture him as an Acolyte though. He was not that... religious.
For Jester, the choice was becoming clearer by the second. The Fighter offered versatility. The Hunter offered survivability. Both were attractive to him.
But the Rogue offered a specific style. One that aligned well with his personality traits and his new weapon's capabilities.
Perception, dexterity, and cunning. These were characteristics he had already possessed. And wished to enhance.
The idea of using his cleverness in combat. Of outsmarting opponents rather than simply overpowering them. Of pranking them before defeating them... It appealed to him immensely.
He could see himself weaving in and out of combat. Exploiting openings. Using his speed to disorient and evade. Striking vital points. Or non-vital points, but harm their psyche...
He made his decision. Rogue. It was a perfect fit.
Ms. Cyantrace finished her summation of the classes. The hall remained silent. Save for the occasional shuffle of feet. She let her gaze sweep over the assembled students. A knowing look was in her eyes.
"You have heard the options. You have considered your aptitudes. Now, you will make your choice."
She didn't waste time. From beneath her podium, she produced a simple, polished wooden case. She clicked it open. Inside lay nine distinct, palm-sized objects. Nestled in velvet.
They weren't just decorative. Each was a precisely crafted magical stamp. Glowing faintly with its own unique sigil. A stylized saber for the Fighter. A shield for the Knight. An ax for the Barbarian.
"When I call your name, approach the podium." Ms. Cyantrace instructed. "State your chosen Power Class. Then, indicate where on your body the tattoo will be placed. It will be permanent." Her voice left no room for argument.
The first name called was a girl with wide, nervous eyes. She chose Knight. Her voice was barely a whisper. She pointed to her left shoulder.
The Knight stamp hummed, then Ms. Cyantrace pressed it firmly onto the girl's skin. A flash of white light. A brief wince. And then the faint outline of a shield sigil permanently marked her.
The process was efficient. Students, one by one, moved forward. Declared their path. And received their mark. Some chose the forearm. Others the shoulder. A few even the back of their hand.
Jester watched. A slight tension in his gut. The Rogue choice felt right. But the finality of it still had weight.
He saw Vale called. Vale walked with his usual composed stride. "Sorcerer." He stated. His voice was calm. Clear. For his tattoo, he indicated his right forearm. A place easily visible.
Ms. Cyantrace pressed the staff sigil onto him. A bright, almost musical pulse of emerald light flashed from his arm. Seemingly more pronounced than the others.
Vale merely nodded. A thoughtful look was on his face. Then he returned to his spot. Jester expected nothing less. Vale would dive headfirst into arcane arts. No doubt.
Finally, Jester's name rang out. "Jester Eventide."
He strode forward. He managed to hide his nervousness. A confident smirk was on his face. He met Ms. Cyantrace's gaze.
"Rogue." He announced. His calm voice carried through the hall. He tapped his left chest. Over his heart. "Here."
Ms. Cyantrace's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. "A bold choice, Jester."
She picked up the Rogue stamp. It was cool and smooth. And pulsed with a muted, shadowy light. She pressed it against his chest.
A sudden, sharp jolt coursed through Jester. It wasn't painful. But it was electric. A brief flash of dark crimson light emanated from his chest.
He felt a phantom sensation. Like a delicate, intricate web of energy. Spreading just beneath his skin from the new tattoo.
When Ms. Cyantrace pulled the stamp away. A clear, dark intricate dagger design was etched into his skin. It looked like a stylized, almost playful, blade.