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Skill count: 4.

New skill.

Partial ability to class change at will.

Why partial though, Rean thought. It must be so kind of failsafe to prevent one vessel from assimilating the skills of others.

What if I can bypass it sowhat? Then that ans I can, at bare minimum, use skills I wouldn’t be able to otherwise.

Ok, let’s make our wrap.

All his scars healed up. Rean was without injury.

"Wow. Healer class does a lot for soone, huh."

He looked. "But I don’t have my stamina back up."

Rean thought of what class could get him back his strength and mobility. He was healed, but he wasn’t back to his full self.

"What’s this? I’m completely healed, but I just don’t think I can move like I want to."

Tank class.

"I’ll use a shadow tank class. I heard shadow tanks have just as much stamina as main tanks. Since they don’t use their abilities as much, they tend to always be at full form even after raids."

Rean used the class. He jumped to the left and moved right. He stretched.

"Yuh, this is exactly what I needed," he said with a smirk.

"Now to spam attacks."

"Huh, what?"

"How is my mana almost exhausted? I noticed it go up after I got healed."

"Wait. Cost. This system never lets up."

"There’s no bypassing the failsafe. The partial vessel skill I just assimilated probably costs a lot of mana to limit what I’ll have going for ."

Rean smirked.

"But no."

"I’ll end this with one rush."

He grabbed his extension.

"I’ve got sothing in mind."

The mont his fingers wrapped around the extension, the entire atmosphere around him shifted.

Not visibly at first—but in pressure.

The null space reacted subtly, like sothing within it acknowledged a shift in authority. Rean’s stance lowered slightly, his footing stabilizing as the borrowed class chanics began layering over his base abilities. The shadow tank class anchored his body, reinforcing his fra with durability and sustained output, while the newly assimilated partial class change hovered at the edge of activation—unstable, incomplete, but usable.

Across from him, the clone stood still.

Watching.

Waiting.

Its body remained in a neutral state, but the faint fluctuations in its form made it clear—it was cycling internally, preparing to respond.

Rean moved first.

Not a burst.

Not yet.

A step.

Then another.

Each movent deliberate, controlled. His speed was still there, but now it was tempered—grounded by the tank class, stabilized for impact rather than evasion.

Then—

He vanished.

Not through invisibility.

Through acceleration.

The ground beneath him cracked as he launched forward, his body cutting through the space in a straight line, extension drawn back for a single decisive strike.

The clone reacted instantly.

Sensory class.

Its head snapped toward the incoming trajectory. Its body shifted—

Tank class activated.

Rean closed the distance.

And struck.

The extension collided with the clone’s guard, the impact releasing a shockwave that rippled outward in a perfect ring. The force compressed the space between them, distorting the air before snapping outward violently.

The clone didn’t move.

But the ground beneath it fractured.

Rean didn’t stop.

He pivoted mid-contact, redirecting his montum into a second strike—faster, sharper. The extension cut across the clone’s side, scraping against reinforced defenses, sparks of condensed mana scattering on impact.

Still no visible damage.

The clone countered.

Instant shift—attack class.

Its arm lashed out, faster than before, aiming to intercept Rean mid-motion. But the shadow tank class held.

Rean absorbed the hit.

The impact drove into his side, but instead of being launched, his body held its ground—sliding back slightly, boots carving into the surface of the null space.

He retaliated imdiately.

A close-range swing, followed by a rising strike aid at the clone’s center mass.

The clone blocked.

Then shifted again.

Mage class.

A pulse of energy erupted point-blank.

Rean reacted late.

The blast detonated between them, engulfing both in a burst of heat and pressure. The explosion forced distance this ti, sending Rean skidding backward while the clone remained upright, stabilizing itself almost instantly.

Rean landed.

Barely.

His stance wavered—but didn’t collapse.

The tank class held.

He inhaled sharply, his body adjusting, recalibrating.

Then—

He moved again.

This ti faster.

Not just speed.

Variation.

His movent pattern changed entirely—short bursts, abrupt stops, unpredictable angles. The partial class change flickered, allowing micro-adjustnts mid-motion. Not full class swaps—but fragnts. Enhancents layered briefly over his actions before fading.

He closed in again.

The clone tracked him.

But this ti—

It hesitated.

A fraction of a second.

That was enough.

Rean slipped past its initial guard, stepping inside its range. The extension drove forward—a straight thrust aid at its core.

Impact.

A deeper sound this ti.

Not a clean hit—but closer.

The clone reacted aggressively.

Multiple class shifts in rapid succession.

Tank.

Attack.

Mage.

The transitions were seamless, each one covering the weakness of the last. A counterstrike ca from below, forcing Rean upward. A burst of energy followed, aid at his midsection.

Rean blocked with the extension.

The force pushed him back—but he used it.

Redirected the montum.

He flipped mid-air, landing behind the clone.

Then rushed again.

This ti, he didn’t aim for a single hit.

He chained them.

Strike.

Pivot.

Strike.

Each movent flowed into the next, the extension acting as both weapon and anchor. The tank class allowed him to commit fully to each attack without losing balance, while the partial class change injected bursts of adaptability into his movents.

The clone began to respond faster.

Its sensory tracking improved.

Its counters beca sharper.

Rean’s attacks started getting intercepted mid-motion. A strike aid at its shoulder was caught. A follow-up was deflected. A third was avoided entirely.

Then—

The clone grabbed the extension.

Rean pulled back imdiately—but not before the clone shifted.

Attack class.

A sharp, precise strike drove into Rean’s torso.

The tank class absorbed most of it—but not all.

He staggered.

Just for a second.

The clone capitalized.

A follow-up hit connected—cleaner this ti.

Rean was pushed back again, sliding across the surface before regaining footing.

His breathing grew heavier.

Mana reserves still low.

Ti running thin.

He tightened his grip on the extension.

Then—

He lowered his stance.

Everything slowed.

Not physically.

But ntally.

The chaos of the fight narrowed into a single line of intent.

One rush.

That was all.

The clone stepped forward.

Prepared.

Optimized.

Ready to counter.

Rean moved.

This ti—

No hesitation.

No adjustnt mid-way.

Just raw execution.

His speed spiked—not sustained, but explosive. The ground shattered beneath him as he launched forward, every bit of remaining energy channeled into a single trajectory.

The partial class change activated—

Not fully.

But enough.

A blend.

Speed.

Stability.

Power.

All overlapping imperfectly—but violently.

The clone reacted.

Sensory locked.

Tank activated.

Attack prid.

Rean closed the gap.

And committed.

The extension ca down—not as a swing, but as a full-bodied strike. His entire movent, all his montum, all his remaining strength condensed into that single point of impact.

Contact.

The space around them collapsed inward for a split second.

Then exploded outward.

The force rippled across the null space, distorting everything in a wide radius. The ground fractured deeper than before, cracks spreading like veins beneath their feet.

The clone held—

For a mont.

Then—

Sothing gave.

A faint shift.

A break in its stance.

Rean pushed through it.

Not pulling back.

Not resetting.

He drove forward, forcing the extension deeper into the clash, overwhelming the clone’s defense through sheer persistence.

The tank class on the clone began to fail under sustained pressure.

Its structure destabilized.

Its transitions lagged—

Just slightly.

Enough.

Rean stepped in closer.

Too close for a clean counter.

He twisted the extension mid-contact, redirecting the force upward and across. The motion disrupted the clone’s balance completely.

Then—

A final strike.

Short.

Direct.

Unavoidable.

The extension connected cleanly.

For the first ti—

The clone was launched.

Its body tore across the null space, crashing into the boundary before rebounding and collapsing onto the surface.

Silence followed.

Rean stood still.

Breathing heavy.

Barely holding his stance.

The clone didn’t rise imdiately.

Its form flickered.

Unstable.

Its class shifts slowed—then stalled.

Rean didn’t move.

Didn’t chase.

Didn’t rush.

He simply watched.

Waiting for confirmation.

The clone attempted to stand.

Failed.

Its structure broke apart—starting from the point of impact, cracks spreading outward until its entire form fragnted into dissipating particles of light.

Then—

It was gone.

The null space steadied.

Rean remained where he stood.

Extension still in hand.

Body barely upright.

But victorious.

Imdiately the clone was defeated Rean got teleported out the white looking null space. He was now sowhere different but he wasn’t back at the temple that much was sure.

"The tir is still counting? What’s going on". He asked.

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