Bro, I'm not an Undead!



Replicus insisted that he was fine after Pherdanta kept pestering him. Soon, the Unlimited had no choice but to cease her nagging, even though she could tell that something was bothering the Penetrator immensely.

As they kept walking through the streets of the Depraved Side, seeing deceptively dilapidated buildings, and overly luxurious ones – which made distinguishing between which ones held genuine products that wouldn't turn out to have been hoaxes days later – Replicus spoke.

"Do you feel you were cheated by not gaining your own Hidden Class?"

The question came so abruptly to Pherdanta, that she couldn't scrounge up an answer immediately.

It went without saying that she was indeed the one to be hurt the most by Riba's conscious folly.

All she gained for her hardwork – mainly the trials Replicus constructed for people within his Faction that he considered to be worthy of entering the Unlimited circle – her reward had ended up being an Advanced Class.

Her circumstances were somewhat convenient, though.

Pherdanta had already been a swordswoman, so the fact that the mysterious advanced class she acquired happened to be related to the sword too, was some consolation.

The Unlimited herself felt that if the secrets of a mere Advanced Class were hidden in the same way as a Hidden Class, they had to be worth it.

"I'm happy about it, master. I feel... complete. I don't think I needed more than I gained. Truly. And it feels more satisfying to be an Unlimited with just an Advanced Class," she said.

Replicus didn't say anything to this. The fact of the matter was that he knew. It was obvious really, that Pherdanta was appreciative of what she got. She had always been. He just felt some shade of guilt for it.

"I see," he finally said. "How do you feel about Hidden Classes in general? You were part of a different Faction before joining us. You must have seen a few other people with them. Do you believe they are... evil, in a way?"

Pherdanta thought about it.

"Not necessarily. I do feel that Riba is somewhat right. I don't think all those powerful people from the Grand Wars left the formulas to their power just for generations to come, but I also think it's only fair that if you manage to acquire that power, you have to overcome the will that comes with it. And if you can't..." she said.

Replicus nodded slowly.

"I... see..." he said in a terribly cold voice that Pherdanta felt in all its fullness. "Do you think your peers are strong enough to overcome these wills... these egos attached to their powers?"

A question of faith.

A question of how Pherdanta saw the other Unlimited.

It was indeed a mystery.

She didn't know much about Kenno, or Grim, but she did think Allora had changed, influenced by the power of her new class. While that didn't mean she would succumb to it the more she grew into the power, it did bring to light the possibility of ceasing to exist as your original self after the influence.

And that said...

"I believe so. I don't think any of them lack what they need to make the power their own," Pherdanta said.

"Oh? And what's that?" Replicus asked.

"Fulfilment."

Replicus hummed.

Fulfilment. Fulfilment, huh?

This current conversation somehow led him down memory lane, to the first instance where he had been told about the truth behind Hidden Classes.

This information had come from none other than Frock, the shady merchant he had met in Inhone. The man had referenced the tale of Demion and Escus, which Replicus had gone on to learn about in full later, much like Skullius.

In truth, that story had bothered him a great deal.

He had hoped to learn more about it, different from the diluted pieces he often heard about its end – mixed falsities about who forged Demion's Dance, the sword that Irisa gifted to Demion, and about how Demion's conduct, his behaviour, had been before he was ultimately killed by a man from one of the Six Houses.

In any case...

"Good. I like that," Replicus said. "Let us see to your errand, shall we?"

Finally cutting the subject, the Penetrator regained his usual temperament and attitude, which was only noticeable to Pherdanta who was usually with him.

The two finally left the loud, and disorderly bounds of the Depraved Side after a full twenty minutes of walking. The land mass was vast, similar to an entire region in size, after all. Aside from that, Replicus and Pherdanta weren't in hurry. It wouldn't be too soon until what they were truly here for began.

The two crossed a long, rickety bridge made of a peculiar type of wood that felt like mud upon stepping into it. It made running across impossible, and instead enforced slow, steady steps. This was a kind of regulation, and a safety mechanism, given how shaky the bridge was, yet firm.

After all, it wasn't pure waters that lay below the hanging bridge, but a deceptive corrosive material impersonating the clear sea.

Replicus and Pherdanta emerged on what was called the Bright Side, another of the four portions of the Severed Union that was next to the Depraved Side.

Instantly, the differences showed themselves, first by the drastically lowered population. Furthermore, the way people dressed was far removed from common brigands, at least for the most part.

The Bright Side could be likened to the Guilds Association headquarters, in some way. Only higher value – and better dressed – criminals who had contracts with the Factions were allowed here. Of course Replicus hadn't had any trouble at all with the screening happening at the end of the bridge.

A great mansion that rose up to a height of forty meters stole the eye on first setting foot on the Bright Side, its entirely fitted with glowing bulbs that flickered rhythmically advertising its existence. Several entrances could be seen from it, all leading to its interior.

As Replicus looked at this building, he couldn't help but feel nostalgic.

It felt like years ago when he was still scrambling to achieve several missions from a Faction he had contracted with.

'Ah, those dreadful days,' he thought.