Holy Knight vs Savage King
Classes and ranks are divided into a hierarchy that most people spend their entire lives trying to climb.
Class F is the bottom of the barrel. It's the 'Common' banner—that one banner you can always count on to be there every time you log in. Game-wise, it's good for building pity, but out here, pulling from that banner guarantees you get dog dookie. You're lucky if you pull a nameless foot soldier who can barely hold a spear straight.
From there, we have Class E, the 'Rare' Class. It's a step up, maybe a minor hero from a town no one remembers, but it's still fairly weak on its own.
The next class is where things get spicy. Class D: The Legendary Class. This is the banner I pulled Artoria from. It consists of, well, Legends. Figures whose names are carved into history books. Pulling a Class D means you've officially left the "NPC" life behind.
Then you get into the "Silver Spoon" territory. Class C: The Folk Class. These are pulls from the folklores of every culture imaginable. We're talking about the big pillars of myth. Callers who pull from here are set for life; Mythica Academy even gives them free tuition, which is a sweet deal if you can get it.
It only gets crazier from there. Class B: The Fantasy Class. This is the second strongest class there is. We're moving past humans and heroes and into the realm of things that never were—Dragons, Griffins, and the stuff of literal fever dreams.
Above that is Class A: The Sacred Class. This is the peak for 99% of the world. Saints, holy guardians, and beings that have been worshipped for a thousand years. If you pull an A, you aren't just a student; you're a tactical nuke.
And finally, at the very top of the textbook, is Class S: The Celestial Class. The Gods. Zeus, Ra, Odin—the heavy hitters of the Above. Seeing an S-Class is like seeing a shooting star made of pure gold. It's a miracle, a myth, and a headache all wrapped in one.
I looked at Artoria, who was currently walking in a baggy hoodie, strolling closely behind me and the guard.
I was one class away from the "Good Life." If I'd pulled a Folk Class, I wouldn't be worrying about rent or Miss Jean's "Sacred Valley" letters. I'd be coasting on a full scholarship with a silver spoon in my mouth.
But, looking at the way the light caught the determination in Artoria's eyes… I found I couldn't really complain. She was legendary, she was loyal, and let's be honest—she was damn pretty.
I'll take a pretty King over a free lunch any day.
"You okay back there?" the guard snapped me out of my delusion.
"Doing just fine."
We cruised through the halls of the Academy with the guard leading the way. It was a ghost town to say the most, and that bugged me a bit at first but after a few seconds I was more or less used to it. The guard led us through the halls and into an open field, where we met a few other people. I guessed they were students given how they were kids like me.
"Alright, that lady over there. You see here?" the guard pointed towards the crowd of children clustering around a taller velvet haired woman.
"Yeah, I see her." I nodded.
"She'll help with your registration and she'll also rank your Beyonder. Go to her when you're ready."
"Sure thing. Let's go Artoria."
"Right."
The open field was less of a playground and more of a high-tech coliseum. The grass was trimmed to a surgical precision, and the air hummed with the distinct static of a dozen different Beyonder energies clashing in the heat.
As we approached the cluster of students, the atmosphere wasn't exactly "welcoming." It was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and desperation. In the center of the storm stood the velvet-haired woman—Instructor Heather, if the nameplate on her sleek, white suit was anything to go by. She looked like she hadn't slept since the Rapture began and had zero patience for teenage angst.
"I don't care if he can solo an army, Marcus!" Heather's voice cut through the air like a whip. "The system scanned him. Your pull is Class D: Legendary. That means you pay tuition like every other Legend in this building. Move aside."
"But it's Lu Bu!" a boy, probably sixteen and drenched in expensive-looking streetwear, screamed. He was clutching a Myth Tamer that was glowing a deep, angry crimson. Beside him stood a mountain of a man—seven feet of pure muscle, clad in jagged black armor, holding a crescent-moon halberd that looked heavy enough to crush a car. "The 'Flying General'! He killed thousands! He's stronger than those 'Folk' weaklings! My father said this pull was worth a billion credits!"
"Your father should have taught you how to read a spreadsheet," Heather snapped, rubbing her temples. "Classification is based on Origin, not just raw power. Lu Bu is a historical legend. He's Class D. If you want the 'Folk' scholarship, go back in time and turn him into a god. Until then, pay up or get out."
The kid, Marcus, looked like he was about to have a literal aneurysm. His face turned a shade of purple that matched Hecate's hair.
"Stronger than any C-Class…" he blubbered, his eyes darting around until they landed on me. And Artoria.
Specifically, Artoria in her "Death Metal Unicorn" hoodie
"You!" he pointed a sweaty finger at me. "That Beyonder, what class it it!?"
"It?" I echoed.
I felt offense in my Beyonder's stead. "Dude, she's Class D. Just like yours, so I'm the enemy here."
"Care explain what you mean by that?" Heather snuck up behind me.
"Only that whatever is happening her does not involve me in any way shape or form. I'll just take my leave."
"Hold it."
Heather grabbed me by the neck and hung me out to dry like some dirty laundry. I never felt more insulted throughout my entire life.
"You said your Beyonder is Class D, right?"
"That's right."
Oh dear lord please save me from that wretched smile, WHY IS SHE SMIRKING LIKE A WITCH!?
"Ok, Marcus. This kid's Beyonder is Legendary Class just like yours. What's their name again?" This time she was talking to me.
"Art-…Arthur. Pendragon."
"As in the legendary King of Knights!?" she yelped.
"Yes."
"Well that makes it interesting. Okay, let's make it interesting. The two of you will duke it out and I'll pay for the winner's tuition personally."
Pause! She for real?
"You for real?"
"For real, real."
"A duel?" Marcus's eyes lit up with a predatory gleam, his despair instantly replaced by a cocktail of ego and desperation. He looked at Artoria's baggy hoodie and then at his own mountain of a general. "You're on! General! Prepare to feast!"
Lu Bu didn't speak. He didn't need to. He simply planted his crescent-moon halberd into the ground, causing the Earth to groan. The shockwave nearly knocked me off my feet, but Artoria stood like she was rooted into the planet's core.
"Master," she whispered, her voice like cool silk. "I believe the 'moderation' phase of our morning has concluded."
"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck where Heather had just been dangling me. "Don't kill him. Just… win. I really don't want to pay for that bread I ate this morning, much less a semester of tuition."
The crowd formed a wide circle. Heather leaned back against a training pylon, looking way too entertained for a woman who hadn't slept.
"Begin!"
The air exploded. Lu Bu was a blur of black steel and red tassels. His halberd swung with the force of a falling building, but Artoria was gone. She moved with a grace that defied her baggy sweatpants, a golden light beginning to bleed through the fabric of her hoodie.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
They were evenly matched—or so it seemed. Every time Lu Bu's halberd came down like a guillotine, Artoria parried it with an invisible force. She hadn't even drawn a weapon yet; she was using the sheer pressure of her mana to deflect a literal god of war.
"Is that all!?" Marcus screamed, pulling a black, jagged crystal from his pocket. "General! Use the Soul-Binding Gore!"
My 80-intelligence brain screamed a warning. "Artoria, move!"
Marcus crushed the crystal. A dark, oily miasma erupted from his hand and surged into Lu Bu. The General's eyes turned from a fierce red to a hollow, void-like black. His muscles swelled, tearing through his armor, and his presence shifted from 'Legendary Warrior' to 'Savage Demon.'
He wasn't just stronger; he was wrong.
The "Savage King" let out a roar that shattered the glass in the nearby windows. But he didn't turn toward Artoria. He turned toward the source of the nearest authority.
He turned toward Heather.
In his berserk state, Lu Bu saw everything as a target. He lunged, his halberd raised high to split the Instructor in half. Heather's eyes widened; even for a Folk Class Caller, a Berserk Legendary was a death sentence at this range.
I didn't think. My body moved before my brain could calculate the risk.
"NOT ON MY WATCH!"
I dove forward, catching Heather by the waist and rolling us both across the grass just as the halberd slammed into the spot she had been standing, creating a crater ten feet deep.
"Master!" Artoria's voice was no longer cool. It was a roar of absolute command.
She was done playing.
The hoodie she was wearing literally disintegrated, unable to contain the gold-and-silver light erupting from her. In her hand, the air swirled and condensed until a sword of pure, blinding radiance appeared. It wasn't just a weapon; it was a fragment of a star.
But the "Savage King" didn't care about the star-light. In his corrupted state, he only saw the target that had escaped his blade. Lu Bu pivoted with animalistic speed, his halberd whistling through the air as he brought it down in a vertical cleave aimed straight at my skull.
"Artoria!" I screamed.
She was too far. She had been knocked back by the initial shockwave of the transformation, and even with her star-sword manifested, she wasn't fast enough to cross the distance.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my arms instinctively crossing over my face. My "intelligence" build was screaming at me: You're dead. This is the end of the Timothy Reach experiment.
Then, the world turned cold.
A sound like a massive iron bell rung out, vibrating through my teeth. I felt a weight in my hands—not the weight of an attack hitting me, but the weight of an object I was suddenly holding.
I opened one eye.
I wasn't dead. I was standing in the center of a fresh crater, my sneakers buried inches into the manicured grass. And I was blocking. Not with my arms, but with the same radiant, golden sword Artoria had just manifested. It had literally jumped from her hand to mine in the blink of an eye.
"What the…?" I wheezed.
My arms should have snapped. My ribs should have been dust. But the halberd was frozen, vibrating against the golden blade I held with a strength I didn't own. It felt like the sword was holding me up, rather than the other way around.
Lu Bu let out a confused, gutteral growl. He pushed down harder, the dark miasma around him flaring, but I didn't budge. My stomach gave a violent, predatory lurch—the kind of hunger that makes you want to bite through a tin can.
Everything happened in a blur. My body moved without my permission, fueled by a terrifying, robotic instinct. I didn't just hold the block; I stepped into his guard, twisted the hilt, and tossed the seven-foot General aside.
The "Savage King" stumbled back, his heavy boots tearing up the turf. He looked less like a warrior and more like a confused animal.
"Stay… down!" I yelled, panicked and running on pure adrenaline.
I swung the sword. It wasn't a knightly strike. It was a desperate, horizontal "get-away-from-me" swing. The flat of the blade connected with Lu Bu's chest plate with a sound like a car crash.
BOOM.
A shockwave of golden light erupted on impact, sending Lu Bu flying back through three reinforced stone walls of the coliseum. He hit the ground and didn't move, his form flickering before finally dissolving into harmless red particles.
The golden sword in my hand evaporated, stinging my palm as it vanished back into my skin.
The silence that followed was absolute.
I stood there, gasping for air, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Heather was still on the ground behind me, her jaw literally dropped, looking at me as if I had just turned into a Descender myself.
"I… I'm so sorry," I stammered, looking at my hands. "I don't know why I did that. I just… I thought I was going to die."
Heather didn't answer. She was staring at her tablet, which was currently flickering with a bright, pulsating purple light—an error code I'd never seen before.
"That," Heather whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and awe. "That was...you used your Beyonder's sword."
I looked at Marcus, who was curled in a fetal ball, weeping over his disappeared Beyonder. Then, a translucent panel appeared right in front of my face—a blue box that only I could see.
[Victory Confirmed]
[Target: Lu Bu (Class D – Legendary) — Defeated]
[Initiating Harvest Protocol…]
[Item Acquired: Legendary Class Aeon – Lu Bu]
[Storage: The Abyss (Digestive Tract)]
[System Note: First meal processed. Welcome to the food chain, Timothy Reach]
I stared at the "Item Acquired" message, then at the spot where the General had vanished. My stomach didn't feel empty anymore. It felt… heavy. Like I'd just eaten a five-course meal made of iron.
"Did I….did I do that?"