Wraithwood Botanist

Chapter 49 - Legacy and Subclass Choices

My heart thumped when I heard that hiding my family would be difficult. "W-Wait," I stammered. "What happened?"

"Your family happened," Lithco said dryly, leaning back in his chair. "Ever since your father got here, he’s tried to figure out how to get to his daughter, publicly disclosing your location to anyone who could possibly help. Your mother has talked about your situation at work, trying to cope, and your brother tried to hide that he got a level up, but you know teenagers. He asked someone to keep a secret; now, everyone knows, and they’re giving him hell for it. So yeah, even if you hire a contract specialist to silence people, you’re boned."

"Doesn’t help that you announced me to the world, did it?" I sneered.

"False," Lithco said. "I suppress information on families during the trial to prevent coercion—but it didn’t help. Your family spread information about a woman who was integrated into the Areswood Forest. It reached the Claustra Family within the day, and they sold the information to a dozen other businesses, organizations, and fellow info-brokers, including governments in multiple domains. You were famous from the instant your parents opened their mouths."

I shivered, feeling prickled goosebumps wave up my forearms. "Oh..."

"Luckily for you, I hide information on blessings and legacies, so you don’t have to worry about that," he said. "There’s also anti-stalking measures, and I provide routes to information suppression. Not that they’re that effective for the famous."

I reached out my arms, and Kline walked into them, allowing me to hold him like a stress pillow. Then I looked up. "So whadda we do about it?"

Lithco laced his fingers and leaned in. "I suppose that question’s worthy of an information request."

I glared at him. He made eye contact and raised his eyebrows. I caved in.

"Fine. But I want a report, not some flimsy bullet points. And I want you to explain it."

Lithco smiled strangely. "I’m an AI that rules the Multiverse. Do you really think that my lists are so inconsequen—"

"I want a report."

He put up his hands. "Fine. Here’s what we’re going to need..." he began, starting his explanation. At first, I was engaged, but minutes soon turned to hours, and by the time he finished, all I could muster was a, Fine. Whatever, just fucking do it, before rubbing my sunken eyes. Once it was over, I leaned back and turned away from Lithco.

"Well, at least I know they’ll be safe," I grumbled. It spent a diamond, two platinum, and a gold—but it was worth it. A lot of people were gonna get one hell of a shock once they kicked in—especially my parents. It’s not like I could call them to warn them. Not that I think I would, anyway...

"... so?" Lithco asked. "Your family’s taken care of. You want to choose a class now?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"What’ll it be?"

"Brindle... obviously. He wrote the book on the forest, and he’s giving me two legacies... kinda. I doubt Elana would offer that. Right?"

"I can’t speak for gods."

I rolled my eyes. ’Course not."

"So?" Lithco asked. "Brindle’s the one?"

I nodded. "Yeah." A second later, I got the notification.

"Next up, subclass," he said. "Everyone’s offering you one—including the poison god."

"They can do that?"

"Yeah. Blessed subclasses just require distinction and class relevancy. It’s a high barrier, but you killed hundreds of second-evolution beasts with poisons. It counts."

"Makes sense...."

"So? Do you want it?"

"The poison blessing?"

"Yeah."

I smiled wryly, wishing it wasn’t an option. It just made the decision harder.

"No..." I said. "I want Elana’s."

"You sure?"

I nodded solemnly. "Brindle’s legacy’s a nightmare, and I’ll need money for protection. I can’t be using requests forever."

"Wise point," Lithco said.

I nodded and looked away. Our conversation referred to family protection. I bought them heavy detail for two years with a platinum request, but in the future, I’d have to pay in money or resources. That’s something Lithco explained during our two-hour talk. I was famous. Even if I didn’t accept Brindle’s legacy, side-stepping the zealots’ wrath, people would try to coerce me into bringing them raw resources from the forest. Then, there were the zealots and competitor gods’ apprentices. My family didn’t need security—they needed the best security, and the best was pricey. Class or not, I needed enough money or barter to protect them.

He held up the bottle and shook it. "Well? Celebrate?"

Elana glanced at him one last time before snatching it out of his hand. "One drink."

Kori gave her a knowing smirk and then watched on.

3.

Doug had spent his entire life hating Microsoft Excel. It was the bane of his existence as a finance manager, taking up most of his time. He had spent the last two years debating the value of hiring a personal data analyst just to ensure that he’d never have to touch the software again.

Now, he was writing numbers on a scroll, and once he finished, the parchment absorbed half the ink, crunched the calculations, and wrote an answer on the scroll in the calculated section.

"This’s what they’re paying you for," Doug thought, body twitching. "If they messed up those calculations, that’s a them problem, not a me problem...." He forced a smile, trying not to flip the page, trying to read the arrays on the back with the calculations. "But still... this is the worst."

A sudden knock on his door captured his attention.

"Come in," Doug said.

His coworker Trak—the know-it-all asshole rockin’ the high school mathematics skills—came in, not a trace of smugness on his expression. There wasn’t a smirk or blood or anything other than a look of absolute fear as his body trembled.

"M-Mr. Hill..." he said.

Mr. Hill...? why’s he suddenly treating me like a... Doug stopped his thought when two men the size of bodybuilders walked into his office, each over six feet tall and exuding invisible pressure that made Doug shutter. They both had beards; one had a hideous scar from where someone fish hooked their cheek with a bowie knife, by the look of it.

Doug was going to die. He was certain of it.

"H-How can I help you?" Doug asked.

"Pardon our intrusion," the first said. "We are hired guards of the Dante Family. From this day on, we will be protecting you and your family. Each of us is a second ev with high purity and combat experience. I assure you that we’re qualified, sir."

"W-Wait. You’re going to what?" Doug looked at Trak, who was staring at him like a god he shouldn’t have offended. That wasn’t a good sign. He looked back at the guards. "I’m confused."

"Tell him," the second guard reminded the first.

"Oh," the first said, clearing his throat. "We are here by order of one Mira Hill."

Doug leaned back, eyes darting between the two, unsure whether to laugh or cower. So he did both, wondering what Mira had done to warrant such extreme measures. That girl... he thought as he awkwardly dealt with him. Yet inside, he was burning with pride over his little girl. She had done grown up, and she was already taking care of her parents. It was just another reminder that his decision to settle down and have children was the best thing he had ever done.

4.

Tanya saw the guards walk into her classroom and panicked, pulling the children close into a ball—prepared to protect them with her life. Then she learned who they were and scoffed, appalled by the untactful introduction. It left her fuming.

Yet once the children left and she heard the circumstances, she calmed down.

That girl, she thought, humored tears in her eyes. Just last week, she and Doug were trying to protect her; this week was the opposite. Tanya felt a deep desire to buy a white dress and stomp right into that forest just to show Mira how much she loved her. Yet, for now, she just wept silently, thanking the bodyguards as they took her home

5.

Four male teenagers led Tyler into the woods, all walking with their chests out, bodies flaring with testosterone and primal fury. Tyler was amongst the angriest. Ever since Mira gave him the platinum request, he started getting the best results and magic. The girls began flocking to him—the guys got jealous. But the bullying had started ramping up as well.

Sup, Cheat Code? they’d say. Back off, man. His sister’ll kill you, another would add. Over and over, stuck on repeat, cutting like a scratched disk.

It all started with the snide British dickhead that was currently leading him into the forest. His name was Holden, and his friend group had successfully created a negative PR campaign against him. It was called "Sis Curve," and they started getting the kids to start gauging their power with it. When Tyler did something, they labeled it the "cheat standard." Then people shot for it, and no matter how well they did, they won. If they did worse than Tyler, they said the person did "good for someone not on the Sis Curve." And if someone beat Tyler’s score, they were praised as someone who didn’t need cheat codes to win—

—and people won often.

That’s because the tests were built on talent. Raw power or distance wasn’t a metric. It was based on accuracy, purity, and efficacy. Large spells often caused more problems than they solved, so Tyler winning often was a sign of his talent, not a fucking cheat!

Tyler stomped his feet onto the ground, feeling twigs crunch underfoot as the others watched him from all sides. They were sneering, darkness in their eyes.

You want to fight? he thought. I’ll give you a fight.

Tyler was shocked that they wanted to fight at all. Did they believe their lies? It would be delusional if they did. Even four against one, Tyler had the magical power and skill needed to take them off.

Holden suddenly stopped in an open clearing, sunlight streaming through the canopies onto a field of boring flowers and gnarled weeds. He took a breath before snorting. "You’ve got some proper nerve to rock up here."

"I’m just tired of you people thinkin’ everything I do’s a fucking handout," Tyler said. "So if you want me to prove it—I’ll prove it."

Holden sneered, and his three friends surrounded Tyler. "Let’s make something clear. This..." He whirled his finger toward the sky. "All of this. It doesn’t matter how strong a person is."

Tyler knew something was wrong and immediately started chanting.