Seth’s eyes flashed. Even he couldn’t think of a basic class that suited him.
He needed a class that complemented his base abilities; if not, he might end up restricting his own potential.
He stepped forward, heading straight toward the Variant section, the legendary path light simmering at a shade only he could trace beneath his feet, leading him to what he wanted.
As he walked through the Variant stall cluster, he understood the meaning of this classification.
Paths labeled as Variants didn’t fit into categories with any of the top known basic paths. Instead, they were a conglomerate of lesser-known basic paths, such as fishermen, cooks, blacksmiths, and so on.
With very few being combat-related, he walked through the streets littered with scant crowds.
Unknowingly, he bumped into a figure while still deep in thought.
The foreign figure halted, turning to stare at Seth’s back as he continued to walk away.
The humanoid figure stood around a height of 172 cm, its bark-brown skin crusted over, having beads of foggy green as eyes.
A green intensity pulsed. Its eyes flashed: "That carries the same characteristics of the master’s target."
The Barklin reacted quickly, streaming nature’s essence into the root bracelet around its wrists.
The bracelet rattled, and a lotus simmering crimson bloomed. When its petals parted open, a blood-coated green eye was revealed.
A familiar voice rang, speaking in a foreign dialect: "You better have contacted us for the right reasons."
The Barklin’s expression stiffened with fright. "Y-yes, my lord. I found a foreign race evolver bearing the traits you described to us, and I have called to relay my location as required."
"Are you sure?" The voice calmed, carrying a mounting intensity. The crimson eye rolled in the lotus to lock on the target.
The Barklin said nothing and just flashed the watch toward Seth’s direction, and the eye locked onto his back, recognizing its target right away.
The eye flashed silently as a cold voice rang, this time not aimed at the Barklin: "Let’s see how you will run this time." It carried a frigid tone.
If Seth had been there to listen, he would have recognized it immediately. It was the same voice of the foreign race member who attacked them last time.
Meanwhile, in that same instance, Seth suddenly halted, his lips creasing into a confused frown as an uncomfortable chill tingled down his spine.
’Just now, somebody scanned me,’ he thought, his will already swelling, ready to wash the entire block. He didn’t know why he felt so uneasy, but he wouldn’t be taking any chances.
Like a tide his will rippled down through the entire block, scanning everything, but still he didn’t feel a single hostile presence.
Unbeknownst to Seth the source of his premonition was long gone, the presence spying on him retreating quickly and wisely, the Barklin gazed down at its wrist as it flicked off the remains of the withered root bracelet.
It raised its gaze back toward Seth’s direction, its figure vanishing the next minute amidst the small crowd.
All while the unknowing Seth warily progressed forward, following the legendary paths guidance against the mounting intensity of the wrongness in the air.
Long drawn minutes passed before he finally found himself before a stall...
Located in a dilapidated area, bare of any other evolvers but filled with old rotting stalls and barely cohesive trade masters.
Seth had to cross-check to be sure this was his target, but the lit-up path indeed ended here. His eyes flashed as he lifted them back up.
The stall stood old and dilapidated in accordance with its surroundings. A wooden plaque on it etched the name of the class it was offering.
"The Fool?" Seth’s eyebrows creased as his gaze rested on the trade master of unknown race, with pale leathery skin and a face bearing few human features. Its lips grotesquely angled into an eerie smile.
Its nose eerily wrinkled and long, its eyes flashing pitch-black darkness, dressed in an outfit eerily similar to a clown.
The trade master’s appearance alone made him uneasy. Could someone explain why this guy looked like a killer clown straight from a horror movie?
A sickening cackle slowly rang out from the trade master as it inched forward. Its angled lips moved, strange dialect flowing, its will blending them before reaching Seth’s ears.
"Do you want to join the House of Cards, my boy?" The voice was raspy and unsettling, carrying a strange scratch to it.
But regardless, Seth wouldn’t give up on the legendary path — one suitable for him too, at that. Fighting against all instinct, he stepped forward and asked:
Engaging the trade master, "And what is the House of Cards?"
The trade master froze, its head tilting into a strange angle. "Y-you don’t know?" It blinked.
Seth remained silent but shook his head.
The strange trade master remained silent for a few minutes. "How long have I been in slumber for? Could it be the House has fallen and long become forgotten?"
Seth felt the responsibility to speak up. The reason he didn’t know the House of Cards had more to do with the fact that he had bare minimum knowledge of things outside the scope of Earth.
"No, it might also be because I haven’t heard of you guys?"
The trade master’s eyes flashed. "Eh? A newbie, I see..." It stroked its bare pointed chin as it scanned Seth up and down.
Seth remained silent in the face of this assumption, likewise scanning the trade master.
"Okay boy, seeing as you’re the first to enter this stall in centuries, I’ll tolerate you. What is it you want?" The trade master said, its eyes flashing as it leaned forward.
"I wanted to know more about the Fool’s class." Seth spoke, cutting right to the chase.
The soulless eyes of the trade master flickered with an abyssal glint, its lips raising to reveal a row of glinting sharp teeth.
"The Fool’s class? Hehe, boy, you indeed have taste. I bet you are one of the true evolvers with smarts. The Fool class is one of the denominations of the Joker, a Card Master of the House of Cards..."
As Seth listened to the trade master go on and on about the class, he found it hard to believe that this was the class the legendary path quest led him to.
Because this didn’t suit him at all — the skills it offered, the powerline it followed, none of it matched his style, this path took a curious route of playing with the mesh of reality.
A Powerline the meshed reality and illusion, threading the line of both, while intriguing it wasn’t still his style, in fact he didn’t fancy it at all. There was no way the class quest led him here for this crap.
Which just meant there was another class this guy offered. "Is there another class I can get? Something better?"
The clown-like trade master went silent, its fixed smile stretching wider. It rapped its fingers against each other.
"Hehe, quite ambitious, I see..."