The Eternal Assassin

"'What are classes?'" Wilna repeated, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. The cracks in her face seemed to shift slightly to make such a feat possible. "Do you mean in a philosophical sense, or are you looking for a detailed list of all the classes we have on record?"

Asher looked at the librarian sitting across from him in one of the library's private rooms and shook his head. After his own failed experiments, rather than dive headfirst into more research, he'd decided to save some time and just ask the librarian her thoughts on the matter. It had nothing to do with the fact that even the mere sight of a dusty, leather clad tome now made him a little nauseous after spending a full week absorbing book after book.

Immediately after unlocking the ability to finally equip the different classes he'd gained access to, Asher had tried out his newest classes one after the other. Just as his passive had promised, he was able to switch between all three of them with merely a thought. What confused him was the fact that two of the three options didn't seem to do anything at all.

While his assassin class appeared to quiet his movements and made him feel more sure-footed, as far as he could tell, his demon slayer and awakened beast hunter classes hadn't changed a thing.

"I know that a person's class is decided upon based on their internal wishes and all sorts of other factors that no two scholars can seem to agree upon. My question was more so asking what the benefits of classes are, I suppose."

"Ah, well that is a different debate altogether," the librarian smiled, holding up a glossy finger. "To start with, classes do provide minor benefits to their holders, but these are usually far overshadowed by the elements and skills a person has. Some people argue that the true benefit of classes is to society as a whole, as it allows criminals to be detected more easily by those with examination based skills."

"But aren't classes treated as a good thing?" Asher argued, trying to wrap his head around the idea that classes weren't inherently beneficial.

"Generally, but don't you think people would trick themselves into believing having a class was good, solely because they don't get a say in the matter?" Wilna asked, her smile widening. "Far easier to accept something out of your control when it benefits you, after all."

"I suppose…"

Wilna must have seen the troubled look on his face, because she laughed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I just enjoy getting a chance to repeat some of the debates I read about. Ignoring all the annoying scholars who love to play demon's advocate, yes, classes are regarded as a good thing. This is because they provide small benefits to whoever holds them."

"I've heard that much… But could you give me an example?"

"Of course," she nodded. "Take my class for example. As a librarian, I have a strange, sixth sense that helps me find any book I'm looking for, and I'm better able to recall our quite sizable inventory as a whole. Neither of these benefits hold a candle in comparison to the skills I have from my elements, but they are certainly helpful."

"So classes really aren't that important overall?" Asher asked, curious what effects the different classes he'd encountered so far had. Did a slayer's class allow them to see a monster's weak points? Was Rosh's instructor class the reason he was able to get his points across so clearly?

"The importance depends on the class," Wilna corrected. "Certain classes are more valuable than others. Take the 'hero' class for example. So long as the person holding such a class is fighting for a cause they believe is right, they are provided with a fairly significant buff to all their skills and physical abilities."

"Well that just seems unfair!" Asher gasped, staring at the smiling librarian. "Who gets to determine if one cause is better than another?"

"And you've hit the nail on the head," Wilna nodded. "There are plenty of records of two opposing heroes fighting one another head to head. Yet another piece of evidence that class benefits aren't everything, seeing as one hero usually ends up slaying the other."

"Okay, that makes sense… If you don't mind me asking, how long did it take you to earn your librarian class?"

"Concerned about still being unclassed, are you?" Wilna asked, her smile growing more gentle. "While it's certainly uncommon, I wouldn't worry too much about having yet to find something you feel strongly enough to be given a class for. It only took me a few weeks to decide I loved working in the library, but I'm aware of others who took months or even years of working their profession before earning their respective classes."

Asher didn't feel the need to correct the librarian, deciding to simply stay quiet and nod his thanks at the kind words. His situation was rather different than any normal person's, after all, and he didn't quite feel like sharing with the woman, despite her reassurances that anything they talked about would remain a secret.

I gained each of my unique classes fairly easily. Maybe part of the Spatial element's passive changes how that works as well.

Time for a test…

"Wilna, if you wouldn't mind, could you give me a list of random books off the top of your head? I want to do an experiment really quick."

"I don't mind at all…" she said, raising a cracked eyebrow. "But I hope you aren't trying to gain the librarian class just from a single day of searching the library for books."

Scribbling down a list of a few dozen books, she handed the list to him before wishing him good luck with his experiment and heading off to help the next person.

Looking at the list, Asher's heart sank as he realized he didn't have the faintest idea where to even begin looking for half the books Wilna had written down.

Maybe my odds of earning the class go up the harder I work toward something.

Stolen novel; please report.

Sighing, Asher pursed his lips and got to work looking for the first book on his list.

It was going to be a long day.

Barely able to contain his grin, Asher nodded at the tavernkeep as he made his way upstairs and slipped into the astral to enter their room without knocking. After learning just how jumpy Rosh was, he couldn't help but make a habit of trying to scare his newest friend every time he'd come back to their room. Knowing the rough times Rosh had been through after accepting the Shard element, he felt a little bad about messing with him like this, but Rosh had no qualms about pranking him back when he slept, and the former instructor gave as good as he got. Rosh took full advantage of how his evolved exhaustion resistance meant he only needed a few hours of sleep each night to be fully rested, and Asher had woken up on more than one occasion only to find someone had drawn glasses on his face in ink, or other such silly symbols.

"Guess who just gained the mighty and powerful ability to find books?" he asked, returning to the material realm and waiting for the familiar yelp of surprise followed by a stream of curses. Yet strangely, there was no reaction to his sudden appearance.

Blinking, Asher took in the empty room and the clear absence of Rosh. While he often beat Rosh back to the tavern for lunch, Asher tended to lose track of time in the afternoon from all the reading and was often late for dinner. In fact, he couldn't remember a single time that week when he'd beaten Rosh back to the tavern in the evening.

"Not like Rosh to be out this late," he muttered, deciding to give the man the benefit of the doubt before getting too worked up. Most likely, Rosh was just working extra hard on another lead for him.

Deciding to snag a bite to eat and catch Rosh when he entered the tavern, Asher went downstairs and grabbed a bowl of stew. He didn't know if serving stew for practically every meal was normal in this world or just a strange thing about this particular tavern, but at least the contents of the stew seemed to vary day by day.

Grabbing a seat with a good view of the main entrance, Asher started eating, pulling up The Big Book of Elements; Volume Six in his mind with Incorporate and skimming through the skills related to the more common elements once more. While the author stated time and time again throughout the book that it was far from a complete list, Asher figured it couldn't hurt to know what some of his opponents might be working with.

Asher took his time eating, not wanting to hear Rosh complain about getting food without him when he finally got back. But after another hour had passed with still no sign of Rosh, he frowned.

Rather than leaving his bowl on the table for one of the workers to get, he brought it over to the bar, placing it on the counter and flagging down the tavernkeep.

"Hey George… You haven't happened to see Rosh this evening, have you?"

The tavernkeep, a portly man with a perpetually unkempt mustache gave him a curious look before shaking his head.

"Nope, not since he left this morning. Everything okay? Or is this some sort of lover's spat I shouldn't involve myself in?"

Snorting, Asher rolled his eyes. He and Rosh would often spend their meals getting into fun, heated debates about the best ways Whikoga and the Noala Kingdom as a whole should be run, as opposed to how they currently were. Occasionally, they'd get so engrossed in their conversations that they didn't hear George the first time the old tavernkeep called out to them to ask if they wanted refills, which apparently was all it took to plant certain unsavory ideas in the tavernkeep's head. Despite Asher repeatedly mentioning that he had a girl waiting for him back home, and Rosh's insistence that he was far too attractive to settle for someone like Asher, George seemed to find no end of hilarity in pretending like they were an old married couple.

"Keep your shipping to yourself old man. It's just not like Rosh to be out so late. If he shows up, could you let him know I went out to look for him and that I'll be back before midnight?"

"I don't know, we old men tend to be rather forgetful," George said, winking at him as he refilled a rather woozy looking patron's mug.

Shaking his head, Asher tossed the man a few shards as thanks before leaving the tavern. Standing on the edge of a bustling street in the city's second ring, he frowned.

Okay… If I were Rosh, where would I be?

Despite the fact that he knew Rosh spent his days trying to drum up leads for the enchanted item he'd requested or hunting down information on Loratta's elites, Asher didn't actually know the specific locations where Rosh went to do any of that.

Well, safe to say he's somewhere within the seedier parts of the second ring, seeing as that's where Loratta tends to operate. Guess that's where we start looking.

Sighing, Asher headed in the opposite direction of just about everyone else currently going about their business. Other than those looking for a good time or in desperate need of some less than legal alchemical substances, few people wanted to be anywhere near that portion of the city when the sun went down.

Asher shivered as the last of the sun's rays vanished behind the city walls and the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. He'd only been in this world for a few weeks now, but already he could tell the weather was beginning to get a bit colder as the days passed. Not wanting to waste any time, Asher swung into a passing tailor's shop and grabbed a thick black cloak to wrap around himself. The loose cotton clothing Samantha had lent him from her dad's old wardrobe just wasn't cutting it anymore, and the cloak would have to do until he had a chance to go clothes shopping.

Remembering Samantha's light touches as she'd helped him out of those very same clothes during their first night together sent an entirely different shiver down his spine than the cold had, and Asher tried to hide the stupid smile on his face as he walked deeper into the dark side of the city. Grinning at someone the wrong way in these parts was basically the same thing as walking up to them and politely informing them that you had just spat on their mother.

Keeping his head down, Asher wandered the dim streets, avoiding stumbling drunks and staying away from small throngs of people eagerly looking for someone to pick a fight with. He wasn't worried about defending himself, but every minute he wasted making a scene was a minute that could have been spent looking for Rosh.

I'm probably just overreacting, he thought, not for the first time as he spotted a tavern that looked like it laughed in the face of health inspectors. Eyeing up the rotting wood and front door barely hanging on by a single hinge, Asher slipped inside and glanced around.

The common room was far rowdier than George's place, and he was hard pressed to find a patron that wasn't currently engaged in a boisterous drinking contest or fighting in a spontaneous brawl. Ducking around two large women currently attacking each other with surprisingly sturdy looking chairs, Asher walked up to the counter, immediately getting the tavernkeep's attention by placing a handful of shards in front of the man.

"I'm looking for a good friend of mine who might have come through here," he said, feeling a little silly as he kept his new cloak's hood down and tried to make his voice sound a bit gravelly. "An instructor. Used to work for Latch. Know him?"

"Yeah I know him," the tavernkeep said, sweeping up the shards and giving him a gruff nod. "You're looking for Rosh."

"Yes," Asher said, trying to keep the excitement from his voice. "Know where he is?"

"Sorry pal, you're a little late," the tavernkeep laughed, pouring a tankard of ale before actually throwing it across the bar at a waiting patron, knocking the poor bloke off his chair and sending ale everywhere. "If you're looking to cash in on that bounty Loratta put up, you should have swung by earlier. Rulfar the Hound snagged him earlier this afternoon."

Giving him a nasty grin, the tavernkeep leaned closer, clearly enjoying being the bearer of bad news.

"Rosh is either already dead, or wishing he were by now."