Chapter 163 – Celestial Class up! II (Patreon)

I put the books back down, mentally marking their location.

“Hey, I can come back here if I don’t like what’s through the door, right?”

“Yup! It’s just, ah, complicated through there.” Librarian said.

Complicated, eh? I opened the door, and saw…

… the other side of the room. Anti-climatic in a way.

I stepped through it and ended up in a starfield, floating in space. Dozens, hundreds of stars surrounded me, connected to each other in clusters with thin little lines, forming a field of constellations around me. Some of the stars were brightly lit, most of them were dim. The constellations were of all different sizes, some big, some little. The stars themselves had as many sizes as there were stars, from tiny pinpricks that I could barely see, all the way to some “stars” that seemed to be more like small moons.

I had a large glass container, taller than I was, wider than I was, hovering in front of me. It was filled with a glowing, shimmering substance that looked like bottled starlight. The top was open, and tiny little motes of starlight, little twinkling points that looked like fireflies occasionally came off the top.

I looked down. I was floating in space, more stars and constellations below me. I tried to move around a bit, finding that I was able to reposition myself at will. The door was gone, but I had no doubt that it’d be easy to find my way back to the library if I needed to.

A book was on display in front of me, on a stand hooked up to the glass container. It was a strange, shifting multi-colored thing, like the doorway I’d come through.

[The Dawn Sentinel] Requirements: Sentinel. Title “Dawn”. Healed over 100,000 people (non-unique). Killed a creature over level 750. Participated in killing a monster that threatened humanity that was over level 1000. Cured plagues. Handled volcanic fallouts. Dealt with tsunamis flooding cities. You are Sentinel Dawn, and you bring light and hope to those who see you. A peerless healer, you have worked your way to the top, selflessly sacrificing yourself whenever needed for the betterment of others.

Although – there were no stats listed.

I looked down, and on the stand, there were nine marked indents. I experimentally pressed the first one once.

The book changed slightly, and the summary at the end now had a “+1 Strength per level” on it. It seemed like the starlight level in the container went down just a hair.

Pressing on each of the icons did exactly what I’d guessed – put one point into each of the stats for the class. The level of starlight dropped a tiny fraction of an amount.

Alright, time to check the most important thing – could I put the points back?

The answer was yes! I could put them back in! Success!

I played around with it a bit more, and did some experimenting. Turns out, I had a whopping 631 stat points per level that I could allocate. I was stunned. That was more than eight times the number of stat points per level that I had access to before. There had to be some catch.

I checked what would happen if I made all the starlight Free Stats. Turns out, I could only get 504 stat points out of it. Message received. There was a penalty for the flexibility that Free Stats offered. It was worth properly planning out what I needed and where, and minimizing the number of Free Stats that I used.

I looked around at the stars and constellations around me. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of constellations around me, but only a dozen or so constellations had stars that were brightly lit. Eight of those were lit up with a faint yellow glow, while the rest were a blazing white.

I looked at one constellation that was glowing yellow, and it was simply composed of four stars connected in a line, each one larger than the prior one. It was almost the center of everything, tiny threads in the sky linking it to every single other constellation up there, like the heart.

Like the center of the starry sky.

It seemed fairly simple, and I focused on it, trying to study it.

The sky helpfully expanded around it, most other constellations vanishing to give me a better look at this one.

One star at the bottom was lit up, glowing yellow, and the rest were dark. All four stars were big though. Not the largest, but hefty. There was a faint image around the entire constellation, making it clear that the constellation was a scepter, the sovereign ruler.

Or I was just reading too much into it.

Looking at the one star that was lit up in the constellation, I could faintly see what skill it represented.

[Celestial Affinity].

It was the lowest star in the constellation. I focused on the second star, large in the sky, and with a force of will, made it light up!

[Celestial Authority] it said. It took me a moment for the penny to drop.

It was a skill tree! I could customize what skills I got!

I was pretty sure.

I glanced at my vat of starlight.

My now heavily drained vat of starlight. A solid chunk had gone into lighting the star up. I went back to the stats, and put all the starlight into mana regeneration. 375 stat points. So, lighting up the [Celestial Authority] star cost me 256 stat points.

Hang on, where was Librarian when I needed her? This seemed to be exactly the sort of question I had her for.

“I thought it’d be more fun if you figured it out yourself.” She said, popping up. “Spirit of adventure and exploration and all that.”

I grumbled to myself, a huge grin on my face. She knew me too well. I totally enjoyed figuring it out.

“What am I missing?” I asked her. “I think I’ve got it all set.”

“Yeah. Except you can also strip points from the constellations you already have skills in.” She said. “This is it. Last chance we’re going to get to upgrade this class. We’ve gotta make it good. We should take a look around, and look at all the skills. Then pick eight skills we want, and put all our points into them. Buy all the perks we want. Put whatever starlight remains into our stat allocation.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that.” I said.

Librarian nodded.

“Yup! Depending on how much we put into a skill, passive skills might take up more mana – or more starlight. Also, if we put fewer points into a skill, we might get it later on. It might require that we get a higher level before it’ll unlock, and it might be weaker as a result. Still, it’s a trade-off worth thinking about and analyzing.”

“Any idea why I’m basically getting to build my own class, instead of taking something the System’s offered me?” I asked.

Librarian shrugged. “No idea. Got lucky, maybe the System thinks you’re worthy, maybe you hit some accomplishment. Heck, maybe this is how monsters class up or something! Honestly, I have no idea.”

The monster thing sounded dubious at best. I was going to make the most of this though. Once in a lifetime opportunity and all that.

I looked around and cursed.

“There are hundreds of constellations here. Literally. Hundreds.” I said. I picked a random unlit constellation. A raven in flight, twinkling stars making everything from the beak to the wings, shining eyes and sharp claws.

Allergies. This set of constellations was everything to do with allergies. Detecting what someone was allergic to. That ranged from getting weak responses, to getting exact details, depending on how many points I put into it. Stopping a response. Helping the immune system at the start. Straight-up rewiring the immune system at the end.

I looked around some more.

There was a constellation full of what I could only call “dead” stars. It wasn’t that they were unlit, just – straight up dead. It was in the shape of a stuffed children’s toy. With some imagination, it could be a teddy bear, a bunny rabbit, a fox, or if you squinted hard, a bird of some sort.

Seemed kinda interesting. I focused on it to see more, and groaned when I realized what skills the constellation was for.

Bedside manner. A social skill.

Apparently, my allergy to social skills went deeper than I thought, and even the representation of the skill in celestial form was indicated by dead stars. I couldn’t think of a better way to indicate that it was a hard no on the skill.

I tried to light up the stars, for the sake of thoroughness and completeness. Nothing happened. They were dead, and the skills were clearly closed off to me.

“Any chance I can get this all in book form, to better organize it?” I asked Librarian. I loved books, and we were in a library. Why was I stargazing? I could see someone stargazing to pick classes, but that would be for a completely different person. I was a book gal. Give me paper and ink to manage!

With a wave, Librarian gave me a cozy little book cubby, with the hundreds of books surrounding me. Eight of them glowed yellow – my current skills. More glowed white, but they were dwarfed by the hundreds that were mundane. A few blackened, charred books were my dead skills.

Way to rub it in System.

I grabbed the eight books representing my current skills.

[Celestial Affinity] was an automatic keep. The fact that every single class came with an affinity skill, and that it looked like it was the center of absolutely everything, with everything seemingly relying on it? I wasn’t taking my chances on it.

[Warmth of the Sun] was a keep, and I was looking to upgrade it heavily. [Radiant Nebula of the Healer] had shown me just how powerful area of effect healing could be, and I wanted to open myself up to the possibility. I wanted to have a healing aura strong enough that simply being in the triage tent would get most injuries that could heal naturally, to heal naturally. It was represented as a grand tree, a trunk leading to many different branches. I had a few core stars lit up along the trunk, surrounded by a few smaller stars. Just one branch had a few stars lit up. I took a close look at them – it was the warmth aspect of the skill.

[Medicine] likewise was a keep. I was a hair leery on how much knowledge I could possibly lose without it. It combined with [Pristine Memories] was the entire basis of how efficient I was. Of all constellations it could be, it was represented by a lantern. Most of the frame was lit, and a dozen little stars were shining inside of it. A fairly complete skill, although a number of dim stars inside it suggested there were untapped depths to the skill.

With that being said, it was low on the list. If push came to shove, I might – maybe – under dire conditions – axe the skill. Sure, my ability to lecture at Artemis’s school might also be axed, and I’d probably end up a much worse mentor to Autumn, but I might be able to remember enough off of my scrolls, and it would be possible to re-learn it all the hard way. Especially with [Oath] and [Pristine Memories] boosting me.

For now, my knee-jerk reaction was that I was going to keep it. I would do some thinking and meditating on the issue though.

[Center of the Galaxy] had saved my life a hundred times over, if not more, and I was eager to make it more powerful. No question there. The constellation was an elegant tiara, a band of smaller stars with larger stars forming the points.

[Phases of the Moon] I was confident was a top-tier, almost perfect healing skill. I planned on taking a look, and seeing how complete it was. Maybe I’d finish the skill off by being able to handle lead poisoning. Would be kinda cool.

I took a look at the constellation, and promptly ate crow.

[Phases] was represented by a massive constellation of an angel, with only one of her wings ignited, shining brightly. The angel held a harp, and completely disconnected from the wings representing [Phases], a portion of the harp was lit up, looking like a crescent moon. I took a look at that portion, and saw it was its own skill.

[Moonlight]. My best guess was the disconnect between the two portions of the constellation is why it was in two skills, and if I could somehow connect the two, the skills would merge.

Speaking of [Moonlight].

[Moonlight] was a skill I was looking to upgrade. Or maybe sidegrade? [Lifeline] from [Ranger-Healer] had looked sweet, and if [Warmth of the Sun] was upgraded into an aura as strong as I wanted it to be, my ranged healing would only come into effect when I was directly in a fight, probably with another person or two.

Putting it another way – I didn’t think I’d need to hit dozens and dozens of people at once. I was looking to change this skill up. Depended how everything else shook out.

[Veil of the Aurora] was also on the table for serious upgrades, although I suspected I was starting to get greedy. I wanted to be a super single target healer + area of effect healer + utility + amazing barriers. I had a ton of starlight, but I probably didn’t have thatmuch. The constellation was almost predictably a shield, with a single large star ignited, and like three other smaller stars burning with light.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of other stars were in the constellation, and I took a quick look over them. My bet was if I’d taken the [Kekkaishi]class that most of this constellation would ignite.

Also, if I blew all my starlight on super cool skills, I might not have the stats to back them. It was a careful balance I had to walk. If I turned all my starlight into stat points, my skills would suffer. If I turned them all into powerful skills, I wouldn’t have the stats to back them.

And the last skill was why I had so much trouble. If only I liked [Vastness of the Stars], I’d just keep all my current skills, and to heck with the other stuff. Sadly, I disliked it, and it had to go. Which meant I needed to browse all these other skills for a good one to replace it.

Time to blatantly cheat!

“Hey Librarian! Can you get rid of a bunch of these that I won’t like or won’t use?” I cheerfully asked her.

Librarian had grabbed her own cozy chair in the reading cubby, and was engrossed in a book of her own. Typical me behavior. I was slightly jealous that I wasn’t the one doing that, but as it was, I was going to be spending a huge amount of time here, browsing through books.

She held up her hand, one finger up.

Tick. Tock.

I looked around at the night sky, deciding to take a peek at a few more skills that I’d never have access to, whose stars were dead.

A rainbow, therapeutic skills to help me talk people through trauma. Apparently, that was too social for me, but I noticed with interest that magically healing the trauma wasn’t part of the skill. Perhaps it was in another skill, and I would have access to that?

A gavel, which somehow translated to public health management. No thank you. A minion with skills like that would be nice though.

She got to the end of her chapter, carefully put in a bookmark, then looked up as she snapped the book closed.

“Right. Let me get on that.” She said, and a whirlwind of activity occurred. A small pile of books ended up next to me, while the vast majority stayed on the shelves. Two of the books next to me were even glowing white!

I decided to tackle those first. What skills did Librarian think I would like, that I’d already been offered and declined?

The first one was the constellation that [Eyes of the Milky Way] had come from. Seeing under the stars. Although there were only a few little points in the skill. It could get much more powerful. There were hidden depths to the skill, potential for evolution, that I hadn’t considered.

Of course they were all eye skills, and of coursethe constellation was a beautifully detailed eye.

Shortlist.

The next one was a diagnostic skill, an elegant cloak speckled with stars. I had to get me a cloak like that. I looked at it briefly, and remembered getting offered the Astrology-like skill. Well, how the stars were lit up in the constellation explained it. Great on the diagnostic part. Terrible on the communication part. I’d suspect it was more of the allergy to social skills if the stars weren’t alive. Unlit, but alive.

Shortlist. Didn’t hate the idea, but I still felt I could just throw mana at the problem, especially with [Medicine]. Like, it would replace [Medicine] in all likelihood, but that would mean rejuggling things, and it might not even be as strong.

Well. Probably different. I don’t think I was giving the skill enough credit, especially when some of the stars hinted at offering the ability to detect magical problems.

I’d need to cross-reference [Medicine], and see if there was a way to evolve it to check for magical problems. I never got a good read on Hesoid’s disease, and maybe I could strengthen [Medicine] to get a read on problems like that in the future.

Ugh. This was going to give me a headache from how complex it was. Still. It was literally the rest of my life. I wasn’t going to rush it. Although, I was slightly regretting classing up now, when I was a hair crunched for time. It was going to add a bit of extra stress to the whole process.

A book that was holding the [Lifeline] skill was next up. I took a close look at the [Lifeline] skill. Stars for more people. Stars for longer range. Stars to more efficiently heal over a distance. Stars to reduce the cooldown of “hooking up” someone to the skill. Stars for communication, from me to them. Stars for talking back.

The skill was an entire section of the angel constellation that held [Phases of the Moon] along with [Moonlight], and I shortlisted it as well.

Everything being on the shortlist was kinda meh, but what else was I to do? The skills were all solid, and making cuts was difficult.

Seven books relating to children, childbirth, babies, mothers, and defects. Specialty skills. Skills to remove foreign bodies. Like swallowed pebbles, peas shoved up noses, or harpoons in chests.

Constellations. So many constellations everywhere.

A quill and inkpot, for teaching skills that I would’ve gotten if I’d taken the [Professor] class.

A lion, for buff skills to make people stronger, faster, tougher. I earmarked that one. If nothing else, being able to turn off someone’s mana regeneration would make me significantly more comfortable trying to take them prisoner, which would allow me to be less lethal in fights.

I still had some of that shiny naivety, some deeply seated belief to not kill people when possible. Sadly, most of the time it straight up wasn’t possible, and it hurt on the inside when I had to kill to defend myself. I wasn’t going to stop, but it wasn’t like I enjoyed it.

A tidy stone well, a skill that increased my mana pool. I hesitated, before deciding that this wouldn’t make the shortlist.

A bonfire, a skill that removed curses and debuffs. I’d been hit by a few curses here and there, but I’d always had the right gemstone on me to purge it and deal with whoever was trying that nonsense. I decided against shortlisting the skill, because I had other ways of handling the problem.

The halo of the angel, making me realize just how absurdly large the [Phases of the Moon] skill was. The halo portion was good for a healing buff that I could put on people. I checked it carefully, getting more and more interested the more I read.

For the price of a chunk of mana, I could strongly improve someone’s natural healing. It would take up most of their mana regeneration, but while they were near me, they’d heal like my [Phases of the Moon]was on them. When they got further away, the magical healing would wane, and their own body’s natural healing would be kicked into overdrive, naturally fixing and healing them.

It was a single-target, buff version of what I wanted my [Warmth of the Sun] to turn into at a distance, and a single-target, moderate distance ranged heal for [Phases]. Bonus – it let me disable someone’s mana regeneration!

The more I looked, the more stars I saw, the more hidden depth to the skill I was starting to realize. I forced myself to close the book with a snap, marking it and putting it on the top of the shortlist. The full in-depth analysis would occur after I finished getting my entire shortlist together.

A banner, a skill that would let me use my healing skills offensively. I recoiled at it, and shot a nasty look at Librarian as I pitched it.

Healing was my art, my calling, my reason for being. I wasn’t going to twist and pervert it into something that killed. That was all manner of wrong.

A shining gemstone, and I saw my old friend [Invigorate]in the constellation, along with [Greater Invigorate]. Ooooh, I wanted my coffee-in-a-skill back, the ability to be instantly up and refreshed and energized returned to me.

Bonus – some of the stars were even partially lit! Onto the shortlist – now a longlist – it went!