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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 22
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 09:19:10 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 21 | Index | Chapter 23 >>
Ronan’s heart was torn between two classes. He knew that fighter suited him best, but the allure of magic was too tempting for a man raised on epic fantasy stories and video games.
If this was a game or the timeframe of the tutorial was more relaxed, he would have taken mage in a heartbeat. Having time to develop his mana control and learn spells wouldn’t be too difficult with some freedom.
Unfortunately, the moment he finalised his choice, he knew that time would resume. A quarter of a minute later he would get whisked away to another life-or-death scenario constructed by the system.
Stage 4 of the tutorial could only be a step up from what they’d just faced. Considering stage 3 had already claimed Ronan’s life once, he wasn’t that thrilled about the challenges to come.
However, a small part of him did enjoy the pounding of his heart and the racing of his mind in the heat of battle. Bit by bit he was becoming a battle junkie.
Despite recognising how dangerous that mindset was, he couldn’t help himself. Given that his priority was surviving and returning to Earth—or whatever the system had twisted it into—he knew what he had to do.
So with a heavy heart Ronan dismissed mage and selected fighter as his first class. The moment he did so, a flash of light briefly blinded him.
You have selected [Fighter (Common)] as your class!
Initiating class infusion…
Ronan felt a warmth suffusing his body. It started at the tips of his toes and the top of his scalp, quickly filling his entire body.
At first the warmth was comforting, like a hot shower, but it soon became itchy. He winced when the itch built up into a burn. It felt like a thousand bullet ants were crawling through his flesh and biting him over and over.
The sensation subsided as rapidly as it had assaulted him. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat and grime, but he felt incredible.
It was similar to having an ice bath. In the moment it was a shock to the system, but once it was over you were filled with energy and a feeling of invincibility.
16…
The timer had resumed. Ronan felt amazing. Clenching his fists and shaking out his limbs, they felt stronger and denser than before.
He threw a few rapid air jabs to test his speed. His eyes widened when he heard a gentle hiss of air each time. Simply choosing the class had granted him bonuses to his raw power.
A wall of notifications had appeared at the moment the infusion finished and he quickly read through them while he still had time. Knowing his own capabilities would be essential for the battles ahead.
Class infusion complete! You have become a [Fighter (Common)]!
You have received the class skill [Swift Strike (Common)]!
Swift Strike (Common): Empower your body with an extra burst of stamina to boost the speed of a single blow.
Bonus stats for class have been retroactively applied
The last sentence gave Ronan a hint as to what that strengthening may have been during the infusion, although he felt as though that process went deeper than a simple increase to his stats. With his class selection done, he pulled up his status to inspect the changes.
[Status]
Name: Ronan Steele
Race: Human (G)
Heritage: @#^?-
Level: 11 (8)
Class: Fighter (Common)
Fortune: 369 Copper Credits (349c)
[Stats (1.008)]
Health: 170/170
Stamina: 200/200
Mana: 120/120
Vitality: 17
Endurance: 20
Wisdom: 8 (+4)
Regeneration: 3
Resistance: 6
Strength: 10
Agility: 9
Intelligence: 8
Dexterity: 5
Acuity: 7
Tenacity: 12
Luck: 2
Charisma: 4 (+1)
Available Points: 3
[Traits]
Personal: Inevitable (Epic)
[Skills]
Unified Language Adaptation (Universal)
Relentless Training (Common)
Magic Strike (Common)
Swift Strike (Common) (Class)
[Mastery]
Pugilist 27/100
Mana 10/100
Staff 7/100
Shield 6/100
Anti-Magic 1/100
[Cultivation]
Mind: None
Body: None
Energy: None
Soul: None
There was a large discrepancy between vitality, endurance, and the rest of his stats. From level 0 to 10, he would gain them in equal measure with free points.
Ronan wasn’t sure if that was a universal feature to anything that was integrated into the system, or a unique trait of being human. He suspected the latter—his species was renowned for being survivalists. Endurance hunting was how they’d survived when far deadlier species had gone extinct.
9…
Gaining his class would close that gap when it came to strength and agility. Not that it was a problem to have his health and stamina prioritised—they literally kept him alive and fighting for longer.
He had three free stat points to spend. His mana had been restored at some point, meaning he wasn’t sure saving them to inflate his wisdom in a pinch wasn’t the best idea anymore.
It had to have been during the class selection. Or maybe when he completed the tutorial stage? It certainly can’t have been during the level ups, because he’d already seen that they only restored health and stamina.
He hadn’t tested his new skill, swift strike, but he suspected it wouldn’t be too heavy a drain on his stamina. Not to the point that he needed to start spending free points on endurance, anyway.
Choosing fighter as his class was solidifying his decision to bolster his natural talents. Rather than trying to be something he wasn’t, Ronan was just going to make himself the best at punching the crap out of stuff.
He’d always been a stubborn little bastard and the tutorial had drawn out the real him, piece by piece. Modern life had softened his edges, but this hellish tutorial was sharpening him once more.
Being able to kill the zombified fleshbeast in a single strike taught him the value of strength. Before dying the first time he’d invested mainly in agility, to avoid getting hit.
However, why should he avoid pain? Pain taught valuable lessons.
Ronan put two points into strength and with the final point, considering that he was enhancing his natural talents, he increased the stat which had been highest from the very beginning—tenacity.
He wanted to be sure that whatever the tutorial threw at him, he wouldn’t falter. And experience had shown it was willing to throw some horrifying shit his way.
5…
“Hey, Keith!” Ronan shouted out, startling the poor guy out of reading his own system messages. “Which class did you pick?”
“Class? What are you talking about?” Keith replied with a confused expression. “That thing that says not applicable in my status?”
[Human Lv.6]
Ronan realised that Keith was barely more than halfway to his own level. It made sense—he’d killed most of the goblins while Keith hadn’t done much at all.
However, if he wanted the man to be more than cowering deadweight he might have to help him along. Only to level 10, so he could pick a useful class like healer. After that he would have to prove himself worthy of being carried.
Right now Ronan was fighting the urge to use him as bait in the next stage rather than simply ignoring him. He’d already sort of done so with the zombified goblin fleshbeast and that had worked really well.
“Don’t worry about it. Just try not to get crippled this time,” he replied with a chuckle, right as the system grabbed him by the scalp and yanked him into the void.
0…
Good luck, challenger!
Once again Ronan found himself staring into the ever-shifting void. Twisting shapes that resembled an endless mass of shadowy serpents writhed and coiled around each other.
Distractions and outside thoughts melted away the further he stared. Just a little closer, I think I can actually see-
His foot slammed into hard stone. His back leg came down, but met nothing. He stumbled backwards, arms flailing.
Ronan’s gaze shot upwards. A fuzzy itch covered a tiny corner of his vision, but he spotted a thick branch.
Right as he was about to throw an arm to grab hold of the branch, his back smacked into a hard, heavy surface. He felt a pair of meaty hands grab hold of his ribs and haul him upright.
“Woah there, big fella! Don’t want to fall into that ravine and turn yourself into a hunk pancake before we can even find out what we’re up against,” an absolute mountain of a man chuckled as he dusted off Ronan’s shoulders.
Ronan’s eyes widened as he took in the dude standing before him. Ronan was a tall man, a little over six foot, but this guy dwarfed him.
He wasn’t just tall either, the dude was built like a brick shithouse. His muscles had muscles—a fact made blatantly obvious by his complete lack of clothing. Although he did have a pair of Hawaiian shorts on, to preserve his modesty. No man would feel confident in themselves after appraising what they hid. Ronan glanced down at his own crown jewels and sighed.
Oh well… I’ll probably die before I can use them again. At least this dude seems to be a friendly giant, he joked to himself.
“What’s your name, little man?” the giant asked with a warm smile painted across a face chiseled from titanium. “I’m Terry.”
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