"Again, I am sorry." Lyra hadn't taken me faking my death too well. I touched my stomach where the hole had been. Gone. The skill I received at level 70, double body, had come in handy. "With their guard down, we can find out what exploits they are trying to use in the System."

  I looked at Shiravesti. She had been a master researcher on her home planet, and when she arrived she instantly chose the research class. A special ability of theirs was to see anyone's class and abilities.

  "What did you see?"

  Shiravesti closed opened her eyes. "It is a strange class called observer. I have never seen that class before."

  "Observer?" I thought about it. Would make sense if one wanted to find the exploits and bugs in a System. "Are you sure there are no records of this class? Information we can use to find out her weakness?"

  She shook her head. "None. It is almost like this class appeared out of nowhere."

  This was bad. They knew little about this mysterious observer class. "If there is anyone who can tell us about this class, then it will be the archangels." From what I knew, there were four archangels with each their own saint: Micheal, Jophiel, Raphael, and Gabriel.

  Lyra clapped her hands. "Finally. I can help with that. Let us speak to the archangel Michael."

  - Rachel, the twice summoned

  Alice walked in front of the king and bowed. "Greetings, Your Majesty."

  "Oh, Alice. There is no need to be so formal when it is just the two of us. Raise your head."

  It had been a long time since she had spoken to him in private. Even in blindness, he knew she would bow before him. He was known for being especially perceptive in his youth. Unfortunately, knowing the old her wasn't enough.

  She raised her head and looked around. The royal garden was as extravagant as ever. Scattered with sculptures made of mirrors. The flowers growing there, likely the last of its kind, peacefully blooming. And sitting in the middle of it all was the king on his throne. Old age hadn't been kind to him, yet he still stood strong.

  After making sure no one else was nearby, she reconnected with her pathway of dreams. Her sight flickered, filled with a more diverse spectrum of colors, and her body rose into the air, with a shadowy glittering cloak encapsulating her entire body. This would be the last time they would be talking together.

  "What did you want to talk to me about?" Alice asked.

  The king smiled. "A lot, actually. The situation near the northern border is going well, from what I have heard. You even managed, with the help of Tomassio, to kill the great error beast Morpheus. That is a notable feat."

  "And a useless one, now that the beastkin have decided to wage war over it."

  He scoffed. "Their king was looking for an excuse anyhow. And your father is well in control over the Colony. The beastkin are no problem. No, the biggest problem will always be the Hero."

  Alice used her cloak to create lances of darkness, which she raised into the sky. "The Hero is indeed our biggest enemy. But there isn't much we can do against him."

  "But there is a lot he can do against us. Especially since he never figured out how to make the World-Rune a subsidiary under his own star. Think about it. Even the mighty Hero himself was never able to resonate with the Mirror Maidens ideals." He raised his hand towards her. "However, you my child, were the one to accomplish this once impossible feat."

  An achievement she regretted to this day. If only she hadn't caught the Hero's intrigue.

  He retracted his hand and coughed. "I am sorry."

  "… Pardon?"

  "I am sorry for forcing you to do my bidding. My son had just left for the South, and would not return. I thought this miracle was something I could use for the betterment of the kingdom. It was a foolish mistake, thinking it would make the Shard reveal itself." He bowed. "Once again: I am sorry."

  Alice didn't know what to say. All her life she had been mad at those who forced her to become a tool. The king, her father, Zev, The Hero. She hated all of them. Hated how they acted like they had done nothing wrong. An apology was all she wanted, and here she got it. But with this apology, when everything was already done; she didn't know how to feel.

  "Please raise your head, Your Majesty. I will accept your apology, for it is the only one I have been offered. But know that it doesn't change the decisions of the past."

  He raised his head. "Trust me. I know."

  Sighing, she dissipated her dream form and returned to being a human. She chickened out, again. The king had been one of the only ones who had shown her kindness in her childhood. Albeit in a weird way. But if she didn't kill him as the Hero wanted, before the Sermon of Sainthood. What then?

  "What—," she hesitated. "What if the Hero decided to kill us all? Get rid of the human kingdom. What do we do then?"

  His expression immediately changed. His faint smile disappeared into a frown, then quickly returned back to his old comforting demeanor. "Then we have lost. We were after all the ones who brought the System Manipulator here, with our summoning of otherworlders."

  "So we accept defeat?"

  "Hope is all we have. The Sermon of Sainthood is approaching. The archangel is a wise and benevolent higher being. If there is anyone who will be able to save us from this toxic world, then it is her.

  Alice gritted her teeth. The archangel hadn't shown herself in decades. She hadn't done anything besides sleeping. Nevertheless, as a follower of the stars, if there was anyone in this world who knew what hope was, then it was Alice.

  "Hope is all we have," she repeated. After Tom arrived in this world, then she had put all her faith in hope. It did feel useless, but it was her only viable choice. "That reminds me: Tomassio Rossi asked for an audience with you."

  ***

  The pain in his head hadn't subsided, but pieces of his memories remained. This entire time, Rachel had been dragging him along to alternate realities. Now he was even more confused over what awaited him in the South. At least he had someone to talk to when he would be searching for the otherworlders guild.

  According to Hiro, Tom had completely disappeared. Rachel managed to convince them why it wasn't a big deal, and after a while, Tom returned like nothing happened. It all sounded crazy, but he had actually traveled to another world. That sword saint, or the impostor according to Rachel, who was she really?

  He followed Mirabell into the observer's hideaway. If this world needed fixing, then he had to get stronger as quickly as possible.

  Hilda smiled at him, as he walked into her office. "You're back."

  "With an appointment ready," Tom added. "The king said he would meet me midday, the day of the banquet held in my honor."

  She clapped her hands. "Perfect. That will be our opportunity to corner him." Standing up from her chair, she walked over to the table. "But first, let us unlock the third ring." On the table was a rusty-looking sword. "Try reaching for it, but don't touch it."

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Tom did as she said, and moved his hand closer. All around he saw small colorful balls of light appear, flickering with no determined form. He moved his hand back, and the balls of light disappeared. "I have seen this before. Ilona said it was a curse that worked on her, every time she tried to resort to violence."

  Hilda's eyes widened. "A curse?" She burst into laughter. "My god, that saintess really is useless. No, no. That is no curse. It simply is something we like to call the law of attraction."

  "The law of attraction? Isn't that the weird manifestation thing people do, where the universe supposedly will help you?"

  She nodded. "And it is true. Tell me, what is the most interesting part of a book?"

  "The story?"

  "Exactly. The same way of thinking works for spirits. When there is a story worth their attention, they become attracted by it. The reason why the spirits showed themselves in the physical world, referring to the saintess, is because they are intrigued by the prospect of her taking up the sword. Think about it. The previous saintess was the sword saint Lyra Songbird. As the current saintess, she has a legacy she can choose to follow, and that very much intrigues the spirits. It is the same process that gives classes powers. People choosing the same path, following a legacy, using the same skills; those repetitive actions give a sense of meaning and consistency in this world."

  He pointed at the sword. "And this?"

  "This is the sword left behind by an otherworlder named Shiravesti. She was an observer just like us. That intrigues the spirits."

  Tom thought about it. It made sense, trying to make the world attracted to you, to your actions and ideals. Not sure why they were using the word attraction though, had to be because of Babylon's Blessing translating things weirdly. "And how do I unlock the third ring then?"

  "By proving that you are worthy of their attention. There actually used to be a separate route of progression in the old times. It was accidentally discovered since its path was close to that of an observer. It was called an entertainer. An expert on attracting the attention of spirits and making the world itself a stage of your own choosing. However, we are menders. Our specialty is observing auras, and therefore the reason behind being worthy of spirits' attention needs to be related to it. Tell me: why are you an observer?"

  He shrugged. "Because it is the class that I was given? I didn't exactly have a choice."

  "You did. It was a subconscious choice. Classes are closely connected to our personalities and festering ideals. There has to be a reason behind it."

  Trash hummed. "Then it has to be that EPIC ADVENTURE of yours."

  Hilda tilted her head. "Epic adventure?"

  Tom sighed. "I always wanted to be someone extraordinary. Go on an adventure. An epic adventure. Live a life that was cool and meaningful. Not that my life panned out that way."

  She smiled. "Fortunately it did. In this world being average is exactly what is deemed as extraordinary."

  "That makes no sense."

  "It does. In a world with several higher beings with each their authority, being average is the most soothing of things to see. To properly gain their attention, you need to act the part. That is the same reason why, for example, a paladin chooses to act righteous. They are reinforcing their own trope."

  Trope. Tom knew about those. "But what trope can even be related to being average?"

  "That is the difficult part. Compared to the other classes, the observer class is much rarer and mysterious. There are no history books retelling how this class originally came into being. So you will have to do the same as me and wing it. Some small differences in the trope you choose are acceptable. Try striking a pose or something."

  He hesitated. "Alright." Unsheathing Trash, he raised him to the ceiling. "Time to take out the Trash!"

  Shalana walked into the room, clapping. "Now that is a cool sounding catchphrase." She put something on the table and turned towards him. "You observers sure are something."

  He could feel his cheek turn red. "Nothing happened other than me making a fool out of myself."

  "Oh, I wasn't expecting it to. Just wanted to see if the spirits had any interest in you, but it seems like you have a long way to go."

  "Hey!"

  Trash hummed. "Nice one."

  "The third ring pertains to understanding purpose," Hilda continued. "For if you do not know what a purpose is then how will you be able to hear them? The key lies in understanding those repetitive actions. Try making that pose into a skill maybe?"

  His eyes widened. "I can do that? I thought skills were determined by the class and I had to search for them myself."

  "That depends on how established your class is. The class of paladin which has had many followers and a long history, there is little place for you to change the ideals of being a paladin. A rare class such as an observer does have more wiggle room. Especially since we can artificially make something average using [stabilize]."

  "So when a class, for example for a paladin, is much more established, the skills result from the quote-on-quote averaged-out interpretation?"

  "Correct. Now try again. This time, use your skills."

  Tom closed his eyes and looked at his aura. A colorful cloud with two rings around it. Using [blend] he fixed the colors of his aura. Then he moved his sight to his surroundings using [see area]. Even though his sight was decent, the reach of his powers wasn't. But he tried to focus as far as he could, outside of his own aura, and used [stabilize]. The surrounding colors, air and small traces of the Ley Line, shifted a little. Everything averaged out, he used [mirror] on the surroundings to make them a part of a bigger whole including his own aura, and ended it with another [stabilize].

  With everything ready, he struck the pose. "Time to take out the Trash!"

  To his glee has saw a few colorful balls of light appear. Spirits. Although, there were four balls at most, and they disappeared so fast that he was barely able to see them.

  Information flooded into his mind, followed by a static sound.

  [Cong — — — — — — You have — to — your — — learned passive skill [spirit attraction]]

  Trying to strike the pose again, his body moved along with the catchphrase instinctively. He barely had to think about doing it.

  "Is [spirit attraction] what we are looking for?"

  Hilda smiled. "Amazing, you were able to hear the system message! That function is so old and broken from the aftermath of the second Void War." She nodded. "The passive skill [spirit attraction] is indeed what it is called. It doesn't have to be this form, but any other you choose to attract spirits could work. Just thinking about doing it will automatically even out your aura with the surroundings and you just manually did."

  "And how is this related to purpose?"

  "Not much actually. A sneak peek for understanding ideal. The actual purpose was connected to you making a skill. Normally proving to the world that you understand what purpose means is a much more gruesome and theoretic path to take. But from what I have learned, creating your own skill is a quicker way to prove you understand purpose. The catchphrase skill you have probably has no name, but the knowledge of it is in your mind. Consequently, you learned the [spirit attraction] passive skill since their purpose is the same. The possibilities are endless if you decide to create new poses."

  He crooked his head. "And why don't the rest of the observers do the same?"

  Trash hummed. "Excuse me! Why do you keep forgetting about me?"

  "Oh." That was right. "Trash powered up his observer capabilities."

  "Your sword must indeed have helped you there. Since it strengthens your powers, you don't need to go through all the theoretical work as the rest of us. Or you could have already intuitively known the knowledge necessary. Both can be true."

  Tom closed his eyes and looked at his aura. It had slightly contracted, colors looking much more cramped together.Floating around the aura were three translucent rings.

  "I got the third ring!" He opened his eyes and gave Hilda a bow. "Thank you for your help."

  She waved her hands around. "No need to bow. I wasn't born a noble. You can thank us by helping confront the king. And then travel to the South."

  He raised his head. "That's right, I needed some communication device. And I reckon my meeting with the king would be a good way to test it out."

  "Indeed," Hilda said. "She nodded and Shalana who was patiently standing by the table. "Show him."

  Shalana grabbed what she had put on the table and showed it to him. "This is it. We call it: the phonie."

  He stared at it. It looked like an old flip-flop phone. "I am guessing it is inspired by otherworlder technology."

  "Exactly. You have a perceptive eye. Using this we will be able to communicate with you. It is my greatest work on entanglement." She pulled out another phone. "You see, these two phones contain two twin fairies. They are entangled in the sense that if one of them does something, the other will react, regardless of how far away they are."

  "Interesting." He took the phone, looked at it, and put it in his pocket. "So what is the plan when I meet the king?"

  Hilda coughed. "I will explain that. It is going to be complicated."

  ***

  The plan was dumb. And they wouldn't even properly explain what was wrong with the king, saying it was a royal secret or something. At least he managed to unlock his third ring.

  "It's amazing how far you've arrived," Mark said.

  Tom sighed. "It is nothing much, really."

  "It is," Hiro added. "Progressing as an observer is a different and much more theoretical path."

  "And now you can prepare for the Breakthrough stage," Mark said. "If the archangel allows it."

  Tom looked at Alice who was looking through the items in front of her. Since the banquet was tomorrow, everyone decided to go out and do some last-minute shopping. It was the first time any of the guys had been to a tailor. A surprisingly interesting experience.

  "How does one even start trying to move past the Breakthrough stage," he asked Alice.

  She hesitated. "It … that is complicated to answer. There is no definitive answer. In the past it used to happen whilst one was asleep. People would be transported to a trial they had to complete to pass the stage. These days, praying in front of the World-Rune is much more common." She looked at the bill the tailor handed to her and handed it to her maid. "I am sure Ilona would have some free time after the Sermon of Sainthood. Before that, you will have to wait." She looked around discreetly at who was watching. "And there is that other task you have to do."

  Tom nodded.

  He had signed up for a lot now. First speaking with the king and helping the observers guild confront him. Then there was the banquet held in his honor. The Sermon of Sainthood. And after some days, it all ended with a trip to the South.

  At least he was doing something rather than sitting around, stuck in the camp.

  After seeing an ice cream booth, he excused himself to do some research. The food in this world was a strange mixture of familiar and foreign aspects. He never thought he would like ice cream with spaghetti on it.

  On the corner of the building, he saw a little girl slowly walking around with a hood on. Behind them, their wallet fell out of their pocket.

  Tom picked it up and ran after her. "Hey, this fell from your—!"

  He stared at her. The hair was a short bob. Green eyes. And half her face was glitching in and out of existence. But regardless of the strange glitching and the new clothes, he recognized her instantly. It was his little sister.

  "Sis, what are you doing here?"

  She stared at him confused. "Sys?"