Kindred Spirits (1/2)

Year 138

10 heroes were summoned. Immediately, I told my artificial minds to look for them. If they spawned anywhere on the central continent, I want to be the first to know. This time, the 10 heroes are new, and I want to play a bigger role in molding them, as my spear, and as my shield. If they survive, they will be my future allies, and will supply me with more [Titan Souls].

It took a few days, but it was Trent who spotted a strange looking young lady fleeing from the Rottedlands. She appeared as hybrids chased her. After she ran past the line of trees, beetles emerged to fight off the hybrids. These beetles were assigned to protect the trade routes from the hybrid’s incursions.

“This is the suspect, master.” Trent quickly highlighted the presence of the young lady in recognisable Earth-like clothing. She wore a dress and she had a watch. She was panting. This was nostalgic, somewhat.

I quickly asked Jura, Edna and Faris to go meet her, and bring her back here.

“Who are you people?” She asked when she saw elves and centaurs approached her.

“We’re from the Valtrian Order, a military organisation of the Freshlands.” Jura smiled, he put up his best diplomatic face. “We’ve been asked to escort you back to Freshka, our capitol. It’s a much safer place than this outpost on the Rottedlands’ Highway.”

“What if I say no?”

“We can’t stop you, and we won’t take you by force. But I can promise you that we won’t harm you. I’m sure you are confused and lost, and this is too much to take in.”

Those words suddenly made her cry. She was hungry, tired, and all that.

“We’ll feed you and help you. A bath, some new clothes and equipment too, if you need it.” Jura said. Both Edna and Faris stared at him. They were not stupid, and they quickly realised this lady was a hero.

She soon agreed. During the trip back to the capital, Jura stayed next to her and ensured she was properly fed and cared for. She had a lot of questions, Jura answered some, but for quite a few of them, Jura answered. “I understand you have a lot of questions, but I’m afraid I don’t know enough to answer it. Our master and spiritual leader, Aeon, will take your questions.”

It made her slightly suspicious, but the express beetle-ride brought her back from the Rottedlands highway to Freshka in under a week. During the trip, she was amazed at how the scenery changed once they got out of the Rottedlands. Vast lands of green, cities and people of all races and species.

Then, Freshka itself. We housed her in a special building deep in the Valthorn’s Fortress in Freshka. It’s a standalone building, purpose built to accommodate future heroes. I envisioned that I would require such places a while back, so, with Harris’s help from back then, we built a place tailor-made for reincarnated or isekai-ed heroes. That meant magical items that resembled familiar, earth-like equipment, like microwave ovens which operated on magical heating stones, hot showers, spring mattresses, and a decor that resembled earth.

She cried for a moment, and quickly jumped on the mattress. She slept for half a day.

“So... where are you taking me?”

“Our spiritual leader.”

She frowned. They brought her to a temple within the Valthorn’s Fortress itself, surrounded by multiple [tree of prayers]. In it there’s a [giant attendant tree].

“You will hear a voice in your head once you step inside.” Jura nodded. The tree had a meeting room, but essentially, it was me and her.

“Hello.” I said to the girl, her leg immediately buckled and she quickly sat on one of the chairs in the room. I could read her thoughts, it’s a mess. “Are you one of the reincarnated heroes?”

She paused.  “No.” She said her name was Astia, but Patreeck’s mind reading soon revealed her real name was Stella.

Huh. She doesn’t trust me, I suppose. “It’s not good to lie. Your foreign attire, and that watch on your hand gave your otherworldly origins away.”

She panicked. “...okay, yes.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. I think those that came with me... they are far away.” Wait. I just noticed she looked a bit older than the previous generation of heroes. She was in her early twenties, though she does look really young for some reason. She seemed to be working in a school, saving money for college..

“Did you get a divine blessing?”

“...sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“See.... uhm... when I died, I wasn’t meant to be in the bus.” It was those words, I suddenly felt a sense of dread wash over me. Was Astia, like me? An accident? “He said that I was collateral damage, but somehow I had enough merit to be reincarnated in this world with some benefits.”

So where are the heroes? And, great. The gods are biased. Was I really such a piece of shit that they made me a tree?

“He said that things will be hard at first, but I’ll be okay if I survive.” Stella sat on the chair. “But he gave me a blessing. [Late Bloomer].”

Really funny, admins, really funny.

“I still don’t know what it does.” She sipped on the tea. I always had tea for guests. It’s a thing, and it helped to calm my guests down, make them talk a bit more. “But I was told by Jura, that you can answer my questions? So uh... what the hell is happening? Can I go home?”

“To the best of my knowledge, you have to die to go home. Not guaranteed.” I answered plainly.

She instantly frowned and almost cried. “Where am I?”

“Well, you’re in a world with demons and heroes. A demon king appeared recently, and so the heroes, those kids you saw on the vehicle, they are the heroes.”

“No. Go back a step. Is this a game?”

“No. As far as I know, this is real, and you’ve died and now you have been brought here.” She’s starting to annoy me.

“Then why am I still in this same human-ish body? Can’t I get reincarnated as something else? Also, is it better to just die and go back?” She said, but I think her last question was meant for herself.

“Do you have a class, young lady?”

“...I got one while running away. [Scout] Level 1.” She wasn’t lying. She didn’t get the [hero] class either. [Scout] is an average class, though it does lead to pretty good upgrades.

“Do you get to choose your class, Astia?”

“No. I just... got it. I can say no, though.” Hmm, the fact that she doesn’t get to choose her class, like most of the other mortals indicated that she really isn’t a hero. In fact, it’s because the lack of direct choice in classes, that’s why [class seeds] are valuable. Most mortals and locals have to keep doing a particular ability and pray the system somehow grants their desired class to them. The ability to get a particular class just by eating a fruit is really awesome.

That said, for the common classes, the system is very generous, and has been seen to grant them out frequently. “Do you want your class?”

“Uh... yeah.”

“You’re not a hero, and as far as I know, there are no ways of going back unless you die. So the question is then, what do you want to do in this world?”

Astia sat and couldn’t answer. “I don’t know, really. It’s not like I had the time to figure out what I want to do with my life when I’m running from weird monsters. Now I’m talking to a big magical tree that speaks to me in my head. I know nothing at this point, so how can I even decide?”

Ah, the lost soul. How quaint. It’s certainly annoying that those who do not have the god’s blessings are lost and clueless. Those who are heroes are driven by divine compulsion.

“Well, ask away. I’ll try to answer what I can, then perhaps you can think of where you want to go?”

“Can I be god?” Astia asked immediately. “Then I can open a portal home?”

“Possible.” The domain-type skills seem to suggest that is very possible.

“Do you know what kind of magic brought me here?”

“No. But if I were to guess, divine-magic. As far as I know, only the gods can send someone so far.”

“As far as you know.” Astia sat. “How long will I live?”

“Without magic, your mortality is unchanged. With magic, maybe up to 300 to 500 years.”

“Can I get classes based on what I know back home?”

“Possible. In fact, you should certainly try it. The heroes generally get classes from the gods, with little choice of their own.” I was honestly giving a tip.

“Then I want to be a master [chef].” She said. “I want to eat good food, and make good food, and I want a restaurant. I’m gonna be more famous than Gordon-fking-Ramsay.”

Uh.

“Then I’m gonna have a restaurant that travels the world, and then, I’m gonna have a magical door that leads me back home.”

Uh. “I certainly applaud your imagination.”

“I’m joking.” She sagged, her boost to high energy vanished abruptly. “I don’t know what I want, actually. How many classes can I get?”

“Humans generally can have up to 6 active classes, but I’m not sure whether that applies for otherworlders like yourself. Perhaps you can get more.”