So this thing should follow with Xander's skills. Class change at will.
Classes are pretty commonly for specialization. Different talents have skills ranging with their numbers.
Different range of numbers offer different class skills. Healer, tank, mage, warrior, etc.
There shouldn't be anything special to Xander's skills, except if there's something I am not getting.
Could it be his skill creates new classes like those that aren't even existent. Like maybe.... Rean thought.
Maybe what? Could there be a class out there like traveller that gave insane speed or something.
Rean paused.
No, there's no way. That's too similar to the assassin class.
Or maybe he isn't creating all new classes. It may be something else.
Could his skill just lie in speed at which he changes class
Or could he just simply be combining classes.
No, no wait. I think I may be thinking too much into this. I think the sentences describing our skills are forward and I doubt that naunced. He can class change at will, huh.
Wait, even though everyone can use different classes kind of skills. There's restrictions, like select specialization and one has to actually obtain the skills.
Could it be. No, no way. That's impossible.
Is it. I fear Xander might be able to use skills of every class but at max proficiency. Damn. That goes very well with the theme of all the vessels abilities I've seen so far.
Now that's out of the way. Let's address the bigger issue at hand. This thing here. Rean said.
Rean looked at the clone. It was occupied with the clones he had created using his multi main skill.
This thing is waiting for something. I have been attacking for a While now and it's yet to retaliate. What's it's angle?
Let's plan this thing out.
My blade probably won't cut it.
Mana pulses are a no- no.
I don't have the kind of output I need to do a oneshot.
Rean's analysis was pretty roundabout. He eliminated dead thoughts but it all led him back to one answer.
"Nothing can be done".
Like hell I'll accept that. Am sure Xander's done with the me clone over wherever he's at.
My speed probably surpasses anything it can do.
I'll try to evolve this things already OP skills and Assimilate it.
One of my 'multis' already struke it but I didn't get any evolution notification. Am guessing I have to go in myself.
I'll initiate the process then dip and closely monitor things from a distance.
The multis' will take all the hits, when the process is done I'll be equipped with my very own class change skill and then...
With man not main active Rean was invisible. He used his newly leveled speed to insta-cut the clone. The clone reacted with a turn. It could sense something but not see.
It immediately used a sensory class and grabbed a hold of Rean.
The moment contact was made, the illusion of control shattered.
The clone's grip was absolute.
Its hand clamped around Rean's arm with mechanical precision, fingers tightening with unnatural strength as though locking onto prey it had already decided to dismantle. There was no hesitation, no adjustment period—just immediate, overwhelming execution.
Then it moved.
Rean's body was yanked forward violently, the sudden acceleration distorting the space around him. The white void warped under the force as he was dragged across the null space, his body scraping against unseen resistance that felt like fragments of broken matter—like invisible debris scattered across an empty universe.
The clone didn't stop.
It swung him.
Once.
Twice.
Then faster.
Each rotation built momentum until Rean became nothing more than a projectile tethered to the clone's arm. The air—or whatever passed for it—cracked under the pressure. Then, without warning, the clone released.
Rean's body tore through the void and slammed into what looked like a collapsed mass of warped structures—distorted, fragmented shapes that resembled ruins without form. The impact echoed unnaturally, like sound bouncing inside a hollow dimension.
The hit alone would have been enough to break a normal hunter.
But the clone was already there.
It appeared above him instantly—class shift.
A downward strike followed.
Rean's body was driven deeper into the debris, the force caving in the surrounding space as if gravity itself had been weaponized. The ground—if it could be called that—fractured outward in a ripple.
The multi main clones flickered.
Then disappeared.
Gone.
The damage wasn't just physical—it disrupted his active constructs entirely.
The clone didn't give space.
It grabbed Rean again—this time by the collar—and dragged him across the void, smashing him through scattered remnants again and again. Each impact blurred into the next, a continuous sequence of destruction with no pause, no rhythm, no pattern—just relentless execution.
Rean tried to resist.
His body tensed, muscles straining against the grip, but it was like fighting against a system command rather than a physical force. The clone shifted again—another class.
Seal.
A faint pulse rippled from its hand.
Immediately, Rean's body locked.
Not slowed.
Not restrained.
Stopped.
Every muscle froze mid-response. His limbs refused to obey, his core unable to twist, his fingers unable to clench. Even his breathing stuttered, reduced to shallow, forced motion.
The clone dropped him.
Then stepped forward.
And began.
The first punch landed square in his abdomen.
A deep, concussive impact that didn't just hurt—it displaced everything inside him. Air forced out, vision shaking violently.
The second hit followed instantly.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
There was no spacing between attacks. No rhythm to adapt to. The clone cycled through attack classes seamlessly—each strike optimized, each blow executed with maximum efficiency.
Rean's body jerked with every hit, unable to guard, unable to dodge, unable to even fall properly. He was held upright by the force of the assault alone.
Punches turned into strikes.
Strikes turned into bursts of enhanced force.
Each hit heavier than the last.
His vision blurred.
Sound dulled.
The world narrowed.
The flurry didn't stop.
It escalated.
The clone stepped in closer, reducing distance to zero, maximizing impact efficiency. Its fists became a blur—dozens of hits in seconds, each one precise, each one calculated to break him down completely.
Rean's body began to give.
His knees buckled slightly, though he couldn't fall. His head snapped back with a brutal uppercut, then forward again as another strike met his face mid-motion.
He was on the edge.
Consciousness flickering.
Body failing.
And still—
The clone didn't stop.
Then—
The seal faded.
Control returned.
Barely.
He then shouts, not yet
And uses skill- multi main. Summoning two clones of himself.
Rean falls to the ground and then the clones take charge and fire mana pulses but then Xander's clone uses a tank skill and just walks through it.
The pulses aren't doing any damage. Damn it. Rean exclaimed. How could it. I mean I'm literally evolving that things talents in real time.
The mana pulses collided with the clone in rapid succession—compressed beams of energy striking with precision from multiple angles. The blasts stacked, overlapping impacts layering pressure onto a single point.
But the clone didn't slow.
It shifted.
Tank class.
Its body hardened—not visually, but fundamentally. The energy from the pulses dispersed on contact, spreading across its surface like water hitting reinforced steel. The force that should have pushed it back simply… didn't.
It walked forward.
Through the attacks.
Unaffected.
Each step steady, deliberate, unstoppable.
It uses an attack class and cuts down the two clones of Rean.
The transition was instant.
Tank to attack.
The clone moved.
A single motion—clean, efficient.
Its arm shifted into a blade-like extension, energy condensing along its edge. It passed through the first clone without resistance, slicing it apart before it could react.
The second clone attempted to reposition—too slow.
A reverse strike.
Clean.
Both constructs destabilized instantly, their forms breaking apart into fragments of dissipating mana before vanishing completely.
It walks up to the original Rean and uses a mage skill to blast Rean back with a fireball.
Mage class activated.
A sphere of condensed flame formed in its palm—not wild, not unstable, but tightly controlled. It pulsed once.
Then launched.
The fireball hit Rean head-on.
The explosion wasn't chaotic—it was focused. The blast radius expanded just enough to maximize impact without wasting energy, sending him flying backward at high speed.
He slammed into the null space boundary.
It gave.
Then snapped back.
The surface behaved like a compressed membrane—elastic yet unyielding. His body bounced off it violently, redirected forward before crashing down onto the ground again.
Rean struggles to get up.
His limbs trembled as he pushed himself upward. Every movement was heavier than the last, his body resisting even basic motion.
He's picked up by the clone and then thrown across the space. The null space felt like a bubble but hard, it had the bounce but not the texture.
Before he could stabilize, the clone was already there.
It grabbed him again—effortless.
Lifted.
Then threw.
This time with more force.
Rean's body tore across the space, slamming into the boundary again. The elastic recoil sent him bouncing at an angle, crashing into another section before dropping.
The environment itself became part of the assault.
Every surface worked against him.
Rean got up and began firing man's pulses. Raising his number.
I'll go all out. I'll use my legs.
He began zipping around.
Mana pulse x4.
Then he used a x10.
Then a x14.
He rushed the clone circling it. Sending in attacks from different directions.
His movement exploded.
Speed pushed beyond control—his body blurring as he circled the clone in tight, erratic patterns. Each step distorted the space beneath him, leaving faint ripples in his wake.
Mana pulses fired in bursts.
x4.
Four beams from different angles—impacting simultaneously.
x10.
Ten streams converging, crossing paths mid-air before slamming into the target.
x14.
A barrage.
The attacks overlapped, layered, compressed into a storm of energy that surrounded the clone completely. From above, below, behind—every direction flooded with impact.
Rean didn't stop moving.
His path became unpredictable—sharp turns, sudden accelerations, mid-motion redirects. He used speed as both offense and defense, never staying in one place long enough to be tracked.
The clone stood at the center.
Then—
It adapted.
Sensory class reactivated.
It didn't need to see.
It felt.
Tracked.
Calculated.
Its head turned—not following Rean's position, but predicting it.
Then it moved.
He fell down. He could no longer keep up. Rean thought all hope was lost. He looked at his mana scale. It looked dry. He could no longer spam the pulses.
His movements slowed.
Then staggered.
Then stopped.
His body gave out beneath him, collapsing forward as the momentum finally caught up. His breathing was uneven, mana reserves nearly depleted.
The pulses ceased.
Silence returned.
Ha. This is over. He said.
The clone approached.
Slow.
Certain.
A notification came in. Assimilation complete.
Everything paused.
Not physically.
But internally.
Huh. This isnt over he said.
Rean said something else and then he stood up.
"Not yet. More"