Calamity Awakens

It worked.

Not just the death. The message.

The system responded instantly to my return to the Staging room, flickering a new prompt into existence in front of me.

"See?" I said, glancing at Kelan as I rolled my shoulders. "Told you she could do it."

Kelan raised an eyebrow. "Looked like she nearly fainted when she saw you."

"Still got the job done," I replied. "Better than most." I said smiling at Kelan.

Hal padded up beside me, tail swishing lazily like even he was a little smug about it.

I focused on the floating prompt and selected Yes without hesitation.

"She doesn't need a relic," I muttered. "And she'll get her Dao on her own. But a skill or class upgrade, that sounds valuable.

"Kelan, how rare are class and skill upgrades?"

"Are you choosing the Boon she gets? The stories always say those are random but always good.

Harold nodded, eyes flicking between the options. "Apparently not so random when I'm involved."

Kelan looked genuinely impressed for once. "That's… powerful. Especially if you plan on picking future Brands from your Calamity List."

"Feels like it." I hovered over the last two options. "So? Skill upgrade or class advancement?"

Kelan rubbed his chin. "Class advancements can be huge but she won't access it till she gets to level 100.. A skill upgrade, though… that's guaranteed growth."

Hal gave a low whine and nudged my hand with his nose, as if voting for clarity over mystery.

"Skill it is," I said, tapping the choice.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Hopefully that's something good for her."

Kelan glanced sideways. "You've got a funny way of doing this. Not what I expected from a so-called Calamity."

"That's the point," I said. "We're not here to play the part. We're here to rewrite it."

I crossed my arms and stared at the system screen, the glow of the boon still fading from view.

"We'll need to move fast when we get back," I said. "As soon as we return, we scout the ruins and set the portal stone to give Lira a way in. The longer she's out there, the greater the risk someone else grabs her."

Kelan nodded grimly as stoic as ever.

Still, the staging room was frozen time—this was a luxury. We could plan. But maybe it was time to capitalize.

I turned back toward the hovering screen.

"We are in a moment of frozen time here, lets bring Calamity till Hal and I catch up to you in levels.

Kelan just grunted behind me.

I filtered the options with the same parameters as before and narrowed it down to 3 options.

"What do you think Kelan…I'm partial to the fire user since I know her physical stats will be lower. How fire proof does that stone skin make you?"

Kelan scratched his jaw, the faint sound of nail on stubble accompanying the quiet crackle of the staging room's ambient energy.

"Stone doesn't burn easily," he said after a beat. "But it doesn't mean it's flameproof either. Heat seeps in. Prolonged exposure's worse. If she's throwing wide area flames with no focus I'll probably be fine, directed flames probably not. "

He shifted his weight and crossed his arms. "Still... I'd take that over a swordsman who's probably faster than both of us. And that poison freak?" He shook his head. "I don't want to find out the hard way how creative he is with slow-kill venoms."

Hal gave a low huff, not quite approval but not disagreement either.

"Alright," I said, fingers hovering near the confirmation screen. "Fire it is. Controlled battlefield, predictable range. Just don't melt on me, Kelan. Hal I need your speed."

"No promises," he said dryly.

I smirked and selected the target: Vasha Emberlain.

A new Calamity began.

The sky split open.

Lightning speared down from the heavens in a crack of blinding blue-white, slamming into the scorched earth with a concussive boom that scattered smoke and sent charred debris tumbling. Heat met heat—the bitter, devouring kind—and the air sizzled with tension as the world shuddered around me.

I landed hard, boots skidding through soot and ash. The battlefield was a blackened ruin. Broken weapons. Melted helmets. Fire still licked across collapsed barricades and what was left of a nearby wall. The bodies—some whole, most not—were impossible to tell apart in the carnage.

And at the heart of it all stood Vasha Emberlain.

She was screaming, not in fear but In rage.

Her voice cracked as she shouted at the flames, at the bodies, at the smoke-filled sky. "You left me no choice!" she bellowed, spinning toward the fire she'd summoned. "You promised reinforcements! You said—you said we just had to hold! And they never came!"

Her glaive trembled in her grip, its tip buried in the seared soil like she needed it to anchor herself. Her face was streaked with blood, soot, and something more raw—betrayal. Her cloak had burned away at the edges, one sleeve missing entirely. Her shoulder was blistered. She didn't notice.

Vasha turned sharply, breathing hard, eyes wild. When she saw me, something in her snapped.

"You came now?" she spat. "After I gave everything? I finally discover a Dao and somehow Calamities return after not being seen in a millennia!"

Her voice cracked again, this time not with rage—but with grief she refused to let it show.

"You think this is what I wanted?" she screamed. "You think I meant for them to die? They abandoned me!

Her glaive lifted toward me—shaking slightly, but ready. Fire curled around the blade.

I didn't reach for a weapon. I didn't flinch. I just met her eyes.

"No," I said evenly. "I don't think you wanted this. But intent doesn't change the outcome of your actions."
The fire cracked louder around us, like it was listening.
"I'm not here to judge you, Vasha. I'm here because your Dao awakened through fire and betrayal. That's what calls the Calamity."

She snarled, rage twisting her face. "So that's it? You're just a cosmic punishment sent to kill anyone who reaches too far?"

"I'm a test," I replied. "You pass, you live. You fail…" I didn't finish.

Vasha screamed and lunged. The glaive swept toward me in a blaze of heat and fury, flames wreathing her arms like living chains.

"Hal!" I barked, already diving to the side. My intent being understood through Oathsense.

The blade seared past where I'd stood a moment before, thrown by Vasha close enough to blister my skin through the coat. The burned ground cracked as she stalked towards me over the battlefield.

Hal was already moving, a streak of silver-blue across the battlefield.

Vasha spun, fire dancing at her heels. "I see your pet too!" she roared, slamming her foot into the ground. A ring of fire burst out, forcing Hal to leap back with a growl.

No way through that yet. I'd have to create the opening.

I gripped the mining pick tighter. I couldn't hurt her directly—but I could make her fight me instead of Hal. I just needed a way to survive fire being thrown at me.

"You want to live?" I shouted. "Prove it! Earn your survival!"

She didn't answer. She was already charging again, eyes wild, fire roaring like her fury had found its perfect shape.

Her hand moved in a arc, a wall of fire chasing its edge. I threw myself into a slide behind a shattered barricade, the heat licking at my back like it was trying to peel skin from bone.

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"She's faster than I expected—" I muttered, heart hammering.

Hal darted in from the left again, fangs bared in a cold shimmer of motion. Frostfang Bite flashed—but Vasha pivoted, her fist lashing out in fire and caught Hal mid-leap, sending him skidding through the ash.

"No!" I shouted, charging from cover to distract her. I brought the pickaxe down in a low swing, aiming for her legs to force movement.

She jumped—damn near floated—and came down with a crack that sent heatwaves rolling. Her foot buried itself in the ground inches from me, leaving a scorched crater in the already burned soil.

My breath came in short, ragged gasps. This wasn't sustainable.

Think. THINK.

The battlefield was a graveyard of half-melted defenses and abandoned gear. A broken wagon smoldered nearby—metal chains half-intact, axle twisted from the heat. I lunged toward it, grabbing a half-charred canvas tarp and looping it around my arm like a shield.

"Hal—circle wide! Wait for my signal!"

She came again, burning through the snow with every step, eyes blazing with betrayal. This wasn't just a fight for her—it was a scream into the void.

And then I felt it.

The ground shook—not with fire, but with weight.

A second force entered the field like a landslide.

Kelan. He stayed back to prepare his armor and he finally entered.

He barreled through the smoke like a charging beast, his entire body covered in thick, jagged plates of stone. Not just hardened skin this time—true armor, layered like shale, jutting like a moving wall.

He didn't speak.

He slammed into Vasha mid-swing, his shoulder driving into her midsection and launching her into the remains of a barricade.

Stone cracked. Wood exploded.

Fire roared around her in reflex—but Kelan stood firm, unmoved, steaming from the heat but utterly unbothered.

"I told you I wasn't fireproof," he growled, stepping forward with the sound of grinding gravel. "I didn't say I was fragile."

Vasha staggered to her feet, spitting soot and fury. Fire drawn to her presence like a storm.

But now… it just wasn't her fight.

I took a position on her opposite side. Hal mirrored me.

She was cornered and outnumbered, and the fire in her eyes? Still refused to dim.

Hal darted forward and used Frozen Pounce. Vasha tried to retaliate but I pulled Hal back with Tactical Recall before she could impact him. Vasha staggered back, bleeding from one leg where Hal's fangs had finally sunk deep. Her other arm hung limp—Kelan's last blow had shattered something in her shoulder, if not her will. She tried to raise her arms again, but she couldn't do it. Fire still crackled weakly at the edges of her body, but it was flickering now—starved and unsteady.

I held up a hand. "Leave her."

Kelan shot me a confused look. "She's not down."

"She's not a threat right now," I said. "She's limping, can't grip her weapon, and her fire's burning out. We keep her alive for now and grab what supplies we can from the area. I'm starting a ten minute timer, Hal watch her, as soon as she moves kill her."

Vasha looked up at me with glassy eyes. Fury burned in them still, but it was smothered by pain, exhaustion… and the weight of what she'd done.

"You're monsters," she rasped.

"Maybe," I said. "But efficient ones."

I turned and swept my eyes across the battlefield. Now was the time to move freely—to loot, to learn, to prepare.

"Fan out," I said.

The two of us moved through the ruins like crows picking clean fresh corpses. Throwing anything we could grab that looked useful into our packs.

I searched the fallen: soldiers scorched beyond recognition, weapons warped from heat, armor seared into flesh. But some pieces were salvageable—steel bracers, half-melted arrowheads, coin pouches untouched by flame. I took what I could and shoved it into my pack.

Kelan pried open a burnt-out supply wagon and found sealed crates—two untouched by fire. One held a hardened food supply: dried ration bricks, smoked meat, vacuum-potted stews. The other had bandages and poultices.

Kelan returned with a double length of canvas tarp and half a tent frame. "Could make a lean-to or ground cover. Maybe snowshoes if we lash it right."

"Take it."

We fanned out farther, my eyes darting around assessing for other threats, my pack was getting heavy with my loot and I had to start getting picky about what I grabbed.

I knelt beside the wreckage of a command post. Scorched maps. A scorched book. One untouched scroll sealed in wax.

A scorched chest stood in the corner I wanted to grab. I moved to grab it but didnt have the strength to move it even with my new stat points. "Kelan! Help!"

Kelan jogged over, stone still clinging to his arms like armor, though it flaked as he moved. He looked at the chest, then at me.

"You try to lift this thing yourself?" Kelan asked, brow raised.

"I've got points in Intelligence and Perception," I muttered. "Not brute strength."

He smirked, crouched, and set both hands on the scorched metal chest. A low rumble echoed from his core as stone surged faintly beneath his skin—more controlled this time, focused. With a grunt, he hoisted the chest into the air, muscles straining, dust falling from his arms like flakes of shale.

"Where to?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Back by Vasha. Let's finish this and get out of here."

I cleared a space beside her body, sweeping aside blackened wood and seared rubble. Kelan set the chest down with a thud, then stood, catching his breath.

"Hal," I said quietly.

The wolf moved in a blur—silent, practiced. Vasha stirred, barely conscious, trying to raise a flame-wreathed arm. It didn't matter.

Hal had already drawn in Ice Qi, the cold of the Dao blooming off him like winter's breath.

She didn't scream.

Her body dropped limp beside the ruined chest, flames hissing out as they licked her scorched cloak one final time.

I didn't say anything. Just nodded once.

"Grab everything you can carry," I said. "We're done here."

Kelan slung one pack over each shoulder, and I took the large chest . Hal took point again without being asked, some tarp canvas hanging from his mouth.

The battlefield behind us crackled and smoked—but we were already fading.

No transition. No warning. Just gone.

And then we were back—standing in the staging room's quiet glow, ash still clinging to our clothes like souvenirs from a bad memory.

I exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding out of my limbs. Hal sat beside me, tail swishing once before settling still. Kelan dropped the larger chest with a grunt, then rolled his shoulders with a wince.

"Every time," he muttered, "it's like being punched by the sky."

"Yeah," I said, flexing my fingers. "But we're alive. And loaded down."

I took a few steps toward the center of the space, where the floating interface was already waiting.

I finally checked my notifications.

I had one from after we fought Lira. I raised an eyebrow at that last line. "Partial XP credit… even though I lost.". I glanced over at Hal, who met my look with a flat blink.

"There's a lot of nuance to this Calamity job," I muttered. It wasn't just about destruction. It was about impact.

I guess it's a perk of a Divine Job. I still gained 9 levels from fighting her since she was near level 50.

The next one was from leveling up killing Vasha. She was also near level 50 but with me getting to level 20 I didnt get as many levels, though I still got 7.

"Seven more from Vasha," I said aloud, mostly to myself. "That makes sixteen total since Lira. Not bad."

Kelan gave a low whistle. "You're catching up to me faster than I thought."

I nodded absently, scrolling through my status. "She was strong. And the system's giving diminishing returns as I get closer in level to my targets. But it's still a big jump."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "How'd you do Kelan? Make sure you use one of those poultices on your wounds. We need you fully operational as soon as we can."

Kelan looked up from the gear pile, a half-unwrapped ration brick in one hand and a bandage looped around his arm. "Got 11 levels. Took your opposite strategy—focused on strength and Fortitude, some into intelligence. Helps me read the terrain better and hold out longer in a fight."

He winced as he applied the poultice to the worst of the burn blisters peeking through cracks in his stone armor. The sharp herbal scent filled the air.

"Not sure how much it's helping," he muttered, tying the cloth tight with a grunt. "Still feel like I got kicked by a bonfire."

"You kind of did," I said, a half-smile tugging at my face.

I pulled up my status so I could figure out how to assign my points.

It was more points than I knew what to do with.

If I wanted to become a proper battlefield controller, I'd need to lean heavily into Intelligence and Willpower for the mana skills—maybe Perception and Agility too. Charisma might even play a role, depending on how influence worked in this world. But the truth was, I didn't know enough yet. Not about the system. Not about the ceiling of power here. Not about what was possible.

Still, I couldn't afford to be slow or useless in the valley. We were one misstep away from disaster.

So I'd spend most of my points now—enough to sharpen my edge and survive whatever came next—but I'd keep a few in reserve. Just in case I stumbled across a new path.

So

40 into intelligence

40 into wisdom

20 into perception

20 into strength

20 in agility

2 into charisma

So i had a nice round 50 left to spend when I figured out what to do.

Harold flexed his fingers slowly, then rolled his shoulders, listening to the creak and shift of muscle and bone beneath the weight of his new stats.

It wasn't subtle.

His thoughts felt sharper now—like ideas slotted into place with less effort. The words on the floating interface were clearer, as if his eyes had learned a new way to read. Patterns in the room stood out more—subtle shadows, the faint pulse of energy around the portal stones, even the weight in Hal's posture when the wolf shifted his paws.

Intelligence and Perception, definitely. He could feel the edges of the world stretching wider.

Then came the physical changes. He bounced lightly on his toes. The movement felt… springier. Not effortless, but smoother. Like the lag between intention and action had been trimmed away.

Agility.

Next, he curled a fist and tensed his forearm. The muscle wasn't bulky, but there was power in it. Controlled, balanced. No shaking. No stiffness.

Strength.

He inhaled deeply. His chest expanded without strain, his core felt solid, planted. A quiet resilience burned in his limbs—like he could keep moving through a snowstorm and not falter for hours.

Harold exhaled and tilted his head toward Kelan, who was leaning against a stone slab and chewing on a ration bar like it owed him money.

"I feel... different," Harold said, flexing his fingers again.

Kelan grunted. "You're probably still squishier than Hal."

Hal, lounging nearby, let out a dismissive huff and didn't bother opening his eyes.

"Yeah? And I'm the one who gets stronger every time you punch someone. Keep swinging, big guy." Harold said laughing.

I saw one more notification blinking in my vision and opened it.

"Kelan, I hit level 25 and I've got a choice—either a skill modifier or another class skill. I thought you said people sometimes got a new skill at 25, not a modifier."

Kelan looked over, brow furrowed. "I've never heard of that. Must be a thing with your class. I have heard of modifiers though and they are powerful. They don't just change a skill—they add another function to it."

"That doesn't make this an easier decision." I replied. "Alright, screw it there will be others" I said decisively picking Class Skill.

Harold blinked as the notification settled into place.

He read it twice just to be sure.

"Brandflare," he murmured aloud. The name alone had a weight to it. Then he ran through the effects in his head—a mass silence, a battlefield-wide Brand buff, and a stat penalty cooldown that only lasted half as long as the boost.

He let out a slow, impressed breath.

"Oh, I like this."

Kelan had been packing away the last of the scorched loot when he turned. "What'd you get?"

Harold flicked the glowing screen toward him. "Brandflare. Silences enemies for a burst, buffs all my Branded and allies by 5 percent. Penalty afterward, sure—but only half the duration."

Kelan read it, then read it again. His brow creased.

"…That's Tier 1?"

Harold nodded, grin spreading. "Apparently."

Kelan let out a dry laugh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That's not a skill. That's a reset button. Silence and a universal buff? You can throw that into any fight, and it shifts the momentum instantly."

He looked up, stone dust still smeared across his armor. "That's broken, Harold. I've talked with Cultivators who worked for decades and got something with half that impact.. That'd be busted even as a Tier 3 or 4 perk. The worst part of it is that its going to get stronger when you tier up your skills."

Harold tilted his head, thoughtful. "Timing is everything. They stall, we surge."

Kelan whistled low. "No wonder Calamities were considered disasters. You keep stacking tools like this, and they're gonna call you the apocalypse."

Harold didn't respond for a moment. He just glanced at Hal.

"Let's get back," he said. "We've got a valley to tame—and a healer to recruit."

With that, he stepped forward, muscles limber, senses sharp, and will steady.