Dual Realm Exchange System

Only one level remained.

Damian picked up another Condensing Essence Pill and tossed it into his mouth without ceremony.

His adaptation count had already reached seventeen, which meant he still had three pills remaining within the second adaptation band.

With the Essence Surge Pill doubling everything, each was worth eighteen EXP.

Gulp!

[+18 EXP.]

[Experience Points: 27/110.]

Another followed.

[+18 EXP.]

[Experience Points: 45/110.]

Then the twentieth pill.

[+18 EXP.]

[Experience Points: 63/110.]

Damian paused.

There it was.

Twenty pills consumed.

From this point onward, the Condensing Essence Pill dropped another step, from nine EXP to eight before the Essence Surge doubled it.

Sixteen per pill.

He needed forty-seven more.

Three pills.

Damian swallowed them one after another.

[+16 EXP.]

[Experience Points: 79/110.]

[+16 EXP.]

[Experience Points: 95/110.]

The final pill entered his mouth.

Gulp!

[+16 EXP.]

[Experience requirement fulfilled!]

[Overall Level increased!]

[Overall Level 10 → Overall Level 11.]

[Experience Points: 1/132.]

[Free Attribute Point acquired.]

[Spell Slot acquired: Level 5 ×1.]

[Current Spell Slots:

Level 1 ×6

Level 2 ×5

Level 3 ×3

Level 4 ×3

Level 5 ×1.]

[Secondary Class Selection unlocked.]

[Current Primary Class: Mage Level 10.]

[Overall Level allocation requires selection of Secondary Class Level 1.]

Damian released a long breath.

Twenty-three Condensing Essence Pills.

Exactly as calculated.

From Level 6 with 13/66 EXP all the way to Level 11, and the entire process had taken what?

A short afternoon?

Compared to his Qi Nourishing Pill marathon, this was practically luxury travel.

”Never again,” Damian muttered as he remembered swallowing pill after pill until his jaw probably developed PTSD.

There was more important business.

A Level 5 Spell Slot!

Damian had not even bought Level 4 Spell Manuals yet, and now the System had already handed him access to Level 5 magic.

Naturally, access without spells was somewhat like owning an artillery cannon without ammunition, but that was a temporary problem.

Rosewood Town had a Mages Association, and Damian had money.

What a beautiful relationship!

His free Attribute Point went exactly where the previous ones had gone.

[SPI: 14.4 → 15.4.]

That familiar existential weight settled deeper into him.

By now, Damian no longer needed several minutes to figure out what was happening.

His metaphorical passport had received another stamp.

At this rate, the cosmic immigration officer would soon stop checking the document entirely and simply wave him through while apologizing for the inconvenience.

”Very good. Remember my face,” Damian murmured solemnly to the nonexistent employee of universal customs.

Then Damian focused on the most important part of reaching Level 11.

His second class.

Or Subclass, as the Valorian Overworld System categorized it.

Functionally, it was another full Class.

Damian had technically reached Mage Level 10 during his previous advancement, but he could not select another Class then because his Overall Level had also been 10.

A new Class began at Level 1.

Therefore, Overall Level 11 was the first point at which the arithmetic actually worked.

Mage Level 10 plus Subclass Level 1 equaled Overall Level 11.

The new level was therefore forcibly allocated into whatever Class Damian selected, but there was an extremely pleasant compensation.

Every new Class came with its Origin Feat for free!

Several options unfolded before him.

Fighter.

Ranger.

Rogue.

Warden.

Cleric.

Damian rubbed his chin.

Fighter looked quite, how do you say, delicieux, hon hon hon!

Cough, cough!

But seriously, with , , , , and the Flying Sword monstrosity he intended to create, taking Fighter would fit his developing Bladesinger build like somebody had personally designed the Class for him.

Ranger was also excellent.

Less direct power, but broader utility, survival skills, tracking, ranged combat and enough general versatility that Damian could see dozens of applications across both realms.

Rogue? Heh.

Arcane Trickster Damian Baines!

Nuff said.

Between magic, , , , and his increasingly absurd Dexterity, he could probably become the sort of thief who robbed someone, sold the stolen object back to them and somehow received a five-star customer review afterward.

Then there was Warden, and Damian’s enthusiasm immediately collapsed.

Warden specialized heavily in defense, protection and taking punishment.

Definitely a respectable and useful Class.... for someone else!

Damian had no intention of building his combat philosophy around getting punched in the face.

Hell, even the Valorian Overworld System seemed to approve of his preference!

It regularly rewarded him for completing dangerous fights without suffering any bodily injury whatsoever.

Why invest heavily into being good at getting hit when one could simply...

Not get hit?

That left Cleric.

Damian looked at the option for several seconds, then sighed.

”Yeah.”

The choice was obvious.

What?!

Why?!

Why would Damian Baines, freshly equipped with an increasingly ridiculous Mage-swordsman build, suddenly choose the lousy support Class?!

Well, slightly because Damian had grown up a little.

And mostly because his priorities had never actually changed.

When he first entered Valoria, he had viewed Mage almost entirely through the lens of fantasy.

Magic!

Spells!

Teleportation!

Fireballs!

All the cool bullshit he’d spent years reading about and playing in games.

Now he actually understood Valoria.

He had seen what high-level magic could do, learned how the Class system developed and, most importantly, understood that Lady Selene and Roland had probably been correct from the beginning.

If Damian reached the Legend stage as a Mage, there was a genuine possibility that he could cross the impossible distance separating worlds and bring people from Earth into Valoria.

His mother, and his father specifically.

That had always mattered more than becoming strong enough to throw bigger fireballs.

But there was a problem.

Bringing Angela Baines here only helped if she remained alive long enough.

And his father?

His father was already dead.

Dimensional Transportation would not fix death.

Magic might, but Clerics possessed something Mages simply did not.

Divine healing and resurrection.

Damian had already seen proof.

The Level 3 spell was a Cleric spell.

It could restore someone who had died recently provided their remains were sufficiently intact and the time limit had not been exceeded.

That was only Level 3.

The earlier Cleric progression was already absurdly valuable.

At Level 1, restored injuries roughly comparable to a Vial of Healing through direct touch, while achieved a similar effect at range with roughly half the restorative power.

Level 2 brought , which strengthened the maximum amount of punishment someone’s body could sustain based partly upon the Cleric’s INT, while removed diseases, poisons, paralysis and several other harmful bodily conditions.

That second one was particularly interesting.

It was essentially the sort of effect Damian had once feared the Purification Talisman could reproduce and expose his potion monopoly.

Clerics simply carried that power around as a spell.

also appeared within the same general tier, sacrificing combat speed in exchange for treating multiple people efficiently outside the chaos of battle.

Then Level 3 introduced for emergency group restoration and, more importantly, .

Death became negotiable.

Level 4 went even further with spells such as , which could prevent a fatal outcome from fully taking hold once, alongside stronger methods of preserving and stabilizing life.

At Level 5 came , capable of removing conditions far beyond the scope of its lesser counterpart, and , which could restore multiple seriously injured people simultaneously.

Level 6 possessed , a massive single-target restoration spell that made ordinary healing potions look rather cute, alongside divine life-support miracles such as that strengthened entire groups against disease, poison and other threats.

And those were merely the attainable Cleric spells Damian currently knew about.

At the Legend stage existed a spell whose name had lodged itself inside his mind from the instant he learned of it.

.

Unlike , it did not possess the same cruel restrictions regarding how recently the person had died or whether their corpse remained sufficiently whole.

Damian’s father had donated his body.

That single fact had haunted the resurrection question from the beginning.

What exactly was Damian supposed to resurrect if there was no intact corpse waiting somewhere?

gave him an answer.

Maybe.

Someday, if he ever reached it.

Damian’s expression had lost all humor.

He remembered hospital corridors, endless bills, his mother’s motionless body, and his father’s condition worsening year after year while everyone pretended there might still be more time.

He remembered his father making the decision to donate his body because even in death the man had found one final way to help his family survive.

Mage could bring them here while Cleric could make sure there was someone to bring.

What fucking Fighter Class was worth more than that?

Damian selected Cleric.

[Secondary Class selected: Cleric.]

[Overall Level allocation complete.]

[Overall Level: 11.]

[Mage Level: 10.]

[Cleric Level: 1.]

[Cleric Origin Feat acquired.]

[Divine Spellcasting unlocked.]

Then came another notification.

[Cleric Class requires Divine Patron affiliation.]

[Select Deity.]

Oh right, religion.

Damian leaned back.

Valoria possessed around twenty-five recognized deities spread across numerous domains, faiths and regions.

He knew several only in passing, like Caurelia and Woolson, and a few others whose churches he had encountered without paying much attention.

Five, however, immediately mattered.

The first was Eldrian, God of Magic, Wisdom, Knowledge, Learning and Mathematics.

The divine image presented by the System showed a refined middle-aged man with an almost elven handsomeness, sharp features, narrow intelligent eyes and immaculate robes decorated with arcane script.

He looked like the kind of wizard who would correct your pronunciation halfway through an emergency spell and somehow make you feel embarrassed for nearly dying incorrectly.

Second came Davian, God of Humans, Mundanity, Adaptation and Development.

He was a complete contrast from Eldrian, with broad shoulders, weathered hands, and simple work clothes.

A woodcutter’s axe rested casually over one shoulder while his rough face carried the warm expression of a man who would help repair your roof, complain about your technique and then invite you inside for dinner.

Fatherly, solid and extremely human.

Third was Orpheus, God of Light, Benevolence, Goodness, Honor and Justice, who was also the deity worshipped by Eunice’s church.

Orpheus appeared almost painfully perfect.

He was slim and androgynous, with white-gold hair that framed a flawless face while luminous garments flowed around a body that seemed deliberately designed so nobody could decide whether the deity was beautiful or handsome.

The only strange part was the expression on his face, which was calm, remote, and almost indifferent.

Like an angel who would absolutely save the innocent from destruction and then immediately return to whatever divine paperwork had been interrupted.

Then Damian saw Lyla, Goddess of Life, Vitality, Vigor, Fertility and Growth.

”...Oh boy.”

She had wheat-toned skin, warm auburn hair tied into thick braids, a simple medieval village dress, and a flower basket hung from one arm as though she had merely stepped outside to gather herbs for dinner.

And her figure?

Bountiful.

Extremely bountiful!

She possessed the sort of wholesome beauty that made a man look once and somehow imagine a cottage, fresh bread and four noisy children running around a garden before realizing he had skipped several relationship stages.

Finally came Eastra, Goddess of Souls, Spirits, Wraiths, Undead and Specters.

Damian paused longer this time.

Smoky dark makeup surrounded cold eyes.

Her figure was slender through the waist yet aggressively voluptuous everywhere that mattered, wrapped in dark garments that looked halfway between royal mourning wear and something a dominatrix queen might wear while deciding whether a kneeling man deserved mercy.

Her entire demeanor said ’Ugh, you filthy male creature, kneel and lick your Goddess’ feet’.

Somewhere deep inside Damian’s Earth-born brain, a forgotten meme awakened.

Big-titty goth goddess.

Dangerous...

Very dangerous!!!

Damian cleared his throat.

”I choose life.”

Yes, life sounded excellent.

He selected Lyla.

[Divine Patron selected: Lyla, Goddess of Life.]

Normally, that should have been followed by instructions to visit one of Lyla’s temples, undergo the appropriate rites, receive formal baptism into the faith and complete the Cleric initiation.

Instead, something gently caught Damian’s existence.

There was no violent teleportation or wrenching sensation.

Reality merely seemed to take him by the hand and pull gently, like lifting a person up off the ground.

The Rosewood Town residence disappeared.

............

Damian found himself standing beneath a blue sky.

A vast meadow stretched in every direction, lush grass rolling beneath a cool breeze while flowers of every imaginable color grew freely among it.

A small cottage stood nearby, smoke drifting lazily from its chimney.

In front of the cottage was a garden.

And kneeling within that garden, humming softly while tending some herbs, was Lyla.

Her back faced him.

Damian’s gaze moved downward for approximately one second, then his lips twitched.

Wow.

Ophelia finally had competition, huh?

The Goddess of Life was bent forward over a row of flowering plants, and the sheer volume contained beneath that simple village dress was enough for Damian to seriously question whether ’Fertility’ being one of her Domains had influenced divine character creation.

A soft chuckle drifted across the garden as Lyla slowly straightened.

Well, he had been caught for sure, but Damian felt absolutely no shame.

He was not going to insult a goddess by pretending his eyes had suddenly stopped functioning.

Lyla turned around.

Up close, her beauty was even warmer than the divine image had suggested.

She smiled at him. ”Welcome, Damian Baines.”

Damian inclined his head politely. ”Lady Lyla.”

Her smile widened slightly.

Damian looked around the meadow. ”So... why am I here? I only chose to become one of your Clerics.”

Lyla giggled. ”Stop joking around.”

Damian raised an eyebrow.

”You know perfectly well why I would make an exception and meet you directly.” Lyla added with a pointed look of amusement.

Well, there went pretending to be clueless.

Damian rubbed his chin. ”Are Otherworlders really that important to Valoria?”

Lyla’s amusement softened. ”More than you realize.”

She stepped away from the garden and brushed a little soil from her hands.

”Every world possesses its own quality, its own limits, and its own grade, if you prefer terminology familiar to you. That grade is influenced greatly by the quality of life capable of naturally arising within it.”

Damian listened silently.

”Valoria is presently a High Grade World,” Lyla continued.

”We possess many Divine Spirits, powerful Legends and civilizations capable of reaching heights impossible in lesser worlds. However, advancement does not happen merely because time passes. For Valoria to rise further, it must produce more exceptional beings, greater systems and new possibilities.” She explained in a soft tone.

”And Otherworlders help with that?” Damian asked.

”They always have.” Lyla affirmed with a smile.

”Otherworlders arrive with strange blessings, extraordinary Special Powers and perspectives Valoria could never naturally create. More importantly, you bring ideas. Different assumptions. Different answers to questions our people may have stopped asking long ago.”

She lifted one finger.

”The first Otherworlder came when Valoria was still considered a Low Grade World. Resources were poorer, systems were incomplete and native beings could not reliably cross the threshold into Legend.”

”Supreme God Valor,” Damian said.

Lyla nodded. ”Big Brother Valor.”

The name carried strange weight when spoken by a goddess.

”He shattered that limitation. What followed transformed this world so completely that Valoria eventually took his name. Today, he stands as our Supreme God.”

Damian’s expression changed slightly.

He had known Valor mattered, but that was considerably more than ’mattered’!

”Then came the other four otherworlders before you. Alexander Smith, The Guildmaster. Elias Rosenfeld, The Broker. Winona Montoya, The Battle Queen. And Junpei Hoshino, The Engineer.” Lyla continued.

”Every arrival changed something fundamental. Every one pushed Valoria higher than it stood before.” Lyla added with a sigh of respect.

Damian folded his arms. ”So you gods basically wait for the next imported patch update?”

Lyla laughed brightly. ”An irreverent description, but not entirely inaccurate.”

”And now there’s me.” Damian’s expression became considerably less friendly.

”And now there is you.” Lyla responded, though her warmth remained, her expression became more serious.

”Many of us have watched with interest since your arrival. Some expected commerce, some expected war, and some even expected a new magical theory, political upheaval or perhaps another strange path toward the peak.” She stated truthfully.

Damian’s brow rose.

So he had Divine spectators?

Wonderful.

It wasn’t something that surprised him though, he had long known how invasive worlds like these would be, especially after hearing the Holy Pantheon’s boons for otherworlders, as well as the exploits of his forebears.

Lyla looked directly at him. ”What you have done so far already exceeds many of those expectations. Some of the things surrounding you are beyond even our understanding.”

Damian did not respond.

His secrets remained his secrets, goddess or not.

Lyla seemed perfectly content with that as she merely smiled.

”But one matter is becoming increasingly clear.”

The breeze passed through the meadow, carrying the scent of flowers between them.

”Damian Baines, you are likely to become the greatest Otherworlder ever to come to Valoria.”