What You Should Crave Is a Young Lady's Body

"You have returned to the starting point. This is the end."

"No."

Alvis did not stop walking and took another step forward.

"For a circle, the starting point is the endpoint, and the endpoint is also the starting point. Since this is the starting point, how can I be said to have reached the end?"

He kept walking, round and round, tirelessly.

This was not merely sophistry, but an unbreakable logical loop.

In the end, the ferryman, bound by an ancient contract and unable to break the wager, was overcome by unbearable annoyance.

He could not let this mortal keep circling around on his shore forever, being both an eyesore and an obstacle.

Humiliated and enraged, the ferryman could only raise his foot and viciously kick Alvis out of the Underworld.

"Get lost! Go back to the world of the living and keep walking your circles! When your legs rot away, come crawling back!"

And so, Alvis returned to the world of the living.

This was a fairy tale known by every household in this world.

The story always ended like this:

[So, children, do not regard death as an inevitable future.]

[When strength cannot defy fate, wisdom can draw you a looping circle. As long as you keep moving forward, the ending will never catch up to you.]

Lance had once regarded it as nothing more than a story to soothe children.

But now, looking at the class information for the [Pale Sentinel], he suddenly felt...

Perhaps Alvis's class had been one that repeatedly danced along the boundary between life and death, possessing tremendous resilience and survivability.

If he had to choose between the conventional [Swordsman] and this rare [Pale Sentinel]...

As a veteran meta-chasing player in his previous life, he did not need to think about the answer at all.

"Of course I'm picking the stronger one."

Lance clenched his fist, a glint of ambition flashing through his eyes.

Since he had cheats, he had to play something challenging.

Next, he needed to thoroughly replan his skill tree.

As his thoughts returned to the present, the carriage crested the last hill.

The familiar outline of Grayrock Town had already appeared at the edge of his vision.

After confirming that Damian, that foolish kid, had been taken over by the guild's healer and was no longer in danger, Lance returned to his little attic nest.

He locked the door behind him and laboriously stripped off his bloodstained equipment.

This set of gear, which had cost him quite a few silver coins, was completely ruined.

The leather armor was covered in scratches and puncture holes. Even two of the buckles on his leg guards had snapped.

It seemed that after this joint clearing mission ended, he would have to visit the craftsmen's district and buy a new set.

Bare-chested, Lance sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his hands.

They were covered in dried, dark green blood.

Even now, the scenes from the shallows kept replaying in his mind.

The Goblins' savage faces, the shriek of stone spears cutting through the air, the feel of his shortsword biting into flesh, and the shock running through his shield when it took a heavy blow.

Lance suddenly noticed that his right hand was trembling slightly.

He raised it before his eyes and examined it closely.

At first, the motion was faint, but as he recalled the battle, his fingertips shook more and more violently. His muscles were spasming in excitement.

This was not fear.

Lance knew this feeling well.

His muscles were cheering, his nerves were pulsing, thrilled by the sensation of dancing at the edge of life and death.

This body craved the next battle.

"Smack!"

A crisp sound rang out.

Lance raised his left hand and fiercely slapped that disobedient right hand.

"Damn it, you little bastard!"

He gritted his teeth and cursed viciously.

"At your age, you shouldn't be craving battle!"

"What you should crave is the soft, warm body of a pretty young lady! Can't you show a little promise?"

To suppress this abnormal restlessness, he forced himself to close his eyes and desperately recalled the illustrations in the bookstore's copy of Ostra Travel Illustrated: Summer Issue.

The fluffy ears of the foxkin girl, the seductive gaze of the succubus beauty, and the elf ranger's long, slender thighs...

He flipped through those pages in his mind over and over until his battle-fueled excitement gradually subsided and his heart became calm once more, still as water.

"Whew..."

Lance let out a long breath and kicked the pile of ruined equipment beneath the bed.

Out of sight, out of mind.

After washing up quickly, Lance changed into casual clothes and headed out again.

This time, his destination was the town bookstore.

He had always been curious about and yearned for this world's system of "class users," but because his purse had been empty, he could only learn the barest details through hearsay.

He had previously tried to freeload by reading those expensive professional books in the bookstore.

The result was that the shrewd bookstore owner taught him a lesson.

Every advanced knowledge book priced above ten silver coins had been enchanted with a special anti-theft reading spell.

He could only see the table of contents and introduction in the first ten pages. Everything after that was shrouded in fog, utterly illegible.

Want to learn real skills without paying? Not a chance.

But things were different now.

After robbing that unlucky Hakon, Lance's purse had temporarily become much fuller.

Without hesitation, he slapped down twenty silver coins and bought the copy of Basic Guide to Class Advancement that he had coveted for so long.

"Knowledge really is expensive."

When he left the bookstore, Lance rubbed his much lighter coin purse. His heart ached, but he knew the investment was absolutely worthwhile.

By the time he returned home, the sky had darkened. He lit the kerosene lamp on his desk and opened the costly book by its light.

Though expensive, he had to admit that it was worth every coin.

The book's pages were thick and durable, its text clear and neatly printed, and it even contained exquisite magical diagrams. If properly preserved, it could easily be passed down for generations.

As the pages turned, the mysterious veil surrounding this world's class system was finally peeled away layer by layer before Lance's eyes.

The path of a class user was far more rigorous than he had imagined.

The maximum class level was set at twenty.

After class advancement, the path through those twenty levels was known in ancient texts as the [Ascension Stairway].

It meant ascending step by step, until one's mortal body could stand alongside the gods.

Class users were divided into four major ranks: Normal Tier, Exceptional Tier, Transcendent Tier, and Legendary Tier.

Between every rank lay an insurmountable gulf.

According to the book, once a human class user entered the Exceptional Tier, the magic within their body began reshaping their flesh, gradually allowing them to surpass the limits of their race.

At the Transcendent Tier, one person alone could influence the course of a small battle.

As for the final Legendary Tier, ancient documents even referred to its wielders directly as walking natural disasters.

Lance was engrossed in his reading, but when he reached the chapter on attributes and class advancement restrictions, his finger suddenly stopped.