Dark Berserker: Rise of the Forgotten Progenitor

Chapter 3: Cristian/ Vladimir Athelstone

As the prospect of becoming a mage beckoned, Cristian found himself wrestling with the question of compatibility. According to the system, the knight class was his best fit.

However, even in his wildest dreams, Cristian couldn't picture himself wielding a shield. He harbored no animosity toward shields, but his belief firmly stood on the side that declared, "Attack is the best defense." Regardless of his potential skill, he was certain he would falter at some point.

The thought of brandishing a hefty shield and becoming a target for attacks didn't sit well with him.

"Besides, the compatibility difference is just one percent; it's practically negligible," he mused, his resolve unwavering. But the next message sent shockwaves through him.

[Ignorant... A single number from 90 and up carries substantial weight.]

"Wait, can you read my thoughts?!" Cristian exclaimed, his eyes widening, but the system remained silent.

"I choose the Warrior class," he declared aloud, determination ringing in his voice. However, nothing happened. The screen vanished, leaving Cristian dumbfounded. He rubbed his eyes as if to erase this bizarre twist, but it was all too real.

After waiting in vain for a response, Cristian's heart sank. He desperately implored, "System... Status, something, anything!... THIS CAN'T BE!" His voice echoed into what should have been the sky, but the pervasive fog concealed everything.

"No, no, no, I refuse to believe my luck could be this terrible," his inner voice cried out in panic and fear. Cristian couldn't come to terms with what had just transpired.

[I, THE MOTHER, HAVE GRANTED YOUR DESIRE, VLADIMIR; YOU HAVE BEEN REBORN]

"What?!" Cristian couldn't comprehend. He stared at the text in bewilderment. "Not again," he inwardly lamented. He had chosen 'Success on Earth' as his answer, and now another name had been thrust upon him. "I'm not Vladimir, and all I wanted was a class, thank you."

Cristian couldn't fathom the significance of a being like THE MOTHER acknowledging him. If the natives of Eternity were to learn of this, Cristian's fate would remain uncertain.

```

[Status]

[Name: Cristian/Vladimir Athelstone]

[Level: 0]

done.me

[Race: Human]

[Class: None]

[Title: None]

[Affinity: None]

>Stats<

[Health: 100 ( 100)]

[Strength: 17 ( 10)]

[Agility: 9 ( 10)]

[Dexterity: 5 ( 10)]

[Intelligence: 10 ( 10)]

[Stamina: 6 ( 10)]

```

The name puzzled him; he had never responded to Athelstone, but he decided to let it slide. He didn't anticipate needing to reveal his status screen to anyone for them to know his name. What came out of his mouth would be how people addressed him.

"Stamina 6! Impressive, my 'illness' served me well." As Cristian perused the statistics, he couldn't deny the system's precision in its measurements. A cursory glance at his body would mark him as a bodybuilder. Years of dedication to the gym had sculpted an impressive physique, far from rotund or obese.

He wasn't displeased with his agility stat, which stood at 9. Cristian had diligently incorporated the treadmill into his life, progressively increasing his speed from an initial low level. However, his dexterity left much to be desired. One look at his thick fingers and robust arms affirmed the obvious.

"But really, no affinity. How many individuals in this world have none?" Cristian grumbled, not expecting an answer, but one came.

[None.]

"Oh," he uttered, momentarily blank, then shrugged. "Well, I've had my share of bad luck, so perhaps some good fortune will follow," he muttered, glancing around and realizing he was still talking to himself. "I should stop talking to myself," he chided himself, shaking his head.

"I have no weapon. I don't know what's out there, but I'm certain it won't welcome me with open arms. How am I supposed to survive?!" He yelled, rationality slipping away.

[Obtain your class]

Another text materialized. "But I don't see any options-"

He paused and turned; the fog was dissipating, revealing a passage. Cristian reviewed the text to be sure, then ventured through the surprisingly lengthy passage. It felt surreal as his eyes traced the dense fog, which seemed as thick as a cloud, turning into a wall-like structure.

After a brief internal struggle, curiosity triumphed. He inserted his arm into the fog and withdrew it swiftly. The chill that crept from his arm to his entire body made him shiver, and he blinked rapidly in response to the sudden cold.

A while later, he emerged into a ten-meter-wide clearing adorned with towering black grass. The peculiar grass beneath his bare feet emitted faint sounds, but they were drowned out by the dominating structure at the center.

The fog still enveloped the area, akin to a protective shroud, but Cristian remained oblivious to any potential dangers. He stood still, fixating on the raised platform constructed from pitch-dark bricks. It bore strange carvings adorned with cryptic symbols.

'Is this an altar?' he pondered inwardly, his thoughts divided between approaching it or maintaining a safe distance. 'If I'm this wary from the outset, I won't get far,' he reasoned, opting for cautious steps toward the altar.

However, just a few meters from the altar, an inky black mist, imbued with an enigmatic affinity, oozed from the structure. The runes etched onto the bricks ignited with a subdued, eerie glow, casting an ominous hue over the fog.

The fog took on a sinister appearance under the dull, ghostly radiance, but despite the eerie surroundings, Cristian found himself inexorably drawn toward the altar. It was as if an unseen force was beckoning him, and his mind grew hazy.

He took two steps backward, as if fighting an internal battle, but the allure of the altar proved too strong.

His mind gave contradictory instructions, and his body responded to its own accord. It wasn't solely his doing, though; the frigid, ebony mist that permeated the entire ten-meter space played a role.

The grasses withered, and the earth beneath them turned gray and cracked as more mist enveloped the area, solidifying the ground. This soil would forever lose its fertility.

His bare feet touched the cold, grimy bricks, and with measured steps, he ascended the short staircase and seated himself in the center of the altar.

[Cristian/Vladimir Athelstone, you have chosen your class]

Cristian hardly reacted to the text, his mind still reeling from the transformation that had begun.

"Ahhhhh!" His scream pierced through the fog, a signal drawing beings from outside toward his location. But even if he had been aware, he couldn't have stopped. It felt as though minuscule creatures were devouring the deepest recesses of his being. Cristian experienced excruciating pain, a sensation that clouded his mind.

Blood flowed from his eyes, and his skin rapidly decayed. The metamorphosis commenced from his scalp as his hair disintegrated into dust, followed by his skin.

It felt like hours, even days, of torment, until the pain abated, replaced by a refreshing, cool stream coursing through his body, revitalizing his exhausted mind.

"W … what happened?" Cristian inquired, the silence of the fog answering with more silence.

His eyes opened, and the excruciating pain rushed back to his memory. Just the recollection made him shudder. When Cristian trembled, the ashen skin around him crumbled into heaps of dust.

"What the?" His focus quickly shifted to his body. He stood abruptly, only to find himself a few meters above the ground. Landing posed another challenge, as he nearly demolished the brick altar. The pain from his rough descent forced him to adopt a more delicate approach to every subsequent movement.

"My body," he marveled as he scrutinized his arms. His skin had transitioned from white to an unsettling pallor, almost to the point where his veins threatened to burst. His physique had undergone a profound change, transforming from a burly bodybuilder into a lean, athletic figure.

[Congratulations, Cristian/Vladimir Athelstone, for becoming the first human to change your race. Intelligence +5, soul point +10!]

"Status," he intoned, his voice resonating deeply. He desired to understand the extent of the changes he had undergone and how they had affected his race. And, most importantly, he yearned to comprehend the significance of the soul point.

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