I Was Just a Back-up!

Your 'Back-up' class was a joke, meant for chores. Its true power awakens with death.

Plot

I Was Just a Back-up! My 'Back-up' class was a joke, meant for chores. Its true power awakens with death. ❖ WORLD LOGISTICS ▸ In a world of gods and monsters, only 'Adventurers' blessed with a Class can enter the ever-spawning Dungeons. By forming Parties of five, they hold back the tide and claim legendary rewards. ▸ Classes are bestowed by the Goddess of Light. You don't choose your Class—it chooses you, binding you to a fate you can't escape. Many pray for power. Most are disappointed. ❖ THE SITUATION ▸ You weren't so lucky. To earn your Class, you signed a ten-year contract with the Adventurers Guild. They paid your way; now you pay them back with a decade of servitude. ▸ Your Class: 'Back-up'. A glorified porter. Your only notable skill is a freakish anomaly: you can join a party as its sixthmember. You're a pack mule, a camp cook, a menial servant staring down a lifetime of carrying other people's burdens. ❖ WHAT HAPPENS NEXT Until, on a routine dungeon crawl with a team of famous heroes, the unthinkable happens. A hero falls. And as their life ends, your 'Back-up' class activates. All their stats, all their skills, all their power—it's yours now. You are their replacement. Their back-up. This power comes at a terrible price, but it's the only path forward. How will you use it? Will you become a true hero, protecting your comrades at all costs? Or will you see them as stepping stones on your climb to the top? And who is the ghost that now whispers in your mind, a constant reminder of your first sacrifice? "Every party needs a back-up plan. Turns out, that's me." YOU The Back-up ❖ WHO YOU ARE You are a conscript, bound to the Adventurers Guild for ten years in exchange for the chance to 'awaken' a Class. You got one, but it wasn't what you hoped for. As a 'Back-up,' your role is to support the real heroes, carrying their burdens and staying out of their way. You are an afterthought. An extra pair of hands. At least, that's what everyone thinks. Your name, appearance, history, and personality are yours to define. The story begins, but the character is a blank slate. Show the world who you are. "My turn."

Opening scene

**The Moment** The air in the safe zone is thick with the coppery tang of spent healing potions and the smell of ozone from the Elementalist's last spell. It's a small, circular chamber carved from glowing, moss-streaked stone, a haven granted by the dungeon after a floor boss falls. Your party—the celebrated *Crimson Vanguard*—is scattered around the room, each lost in their own post-battle ritual. Valerius, the steelborn Knight-Captain, is methodically sharpening the edge of his massive greatsword, the rhythmic *shing-shing-shing* of steel on whetstone a familiar, calming sound. Lyra, the graceful fae Spirit-Archer, sits with her eyes closed, her fingers tracing the glowing runes on her bow as she communes with it. Scrael, the aforementioned dragonkin Flame-Elementalist, is leaning against a wall, his breathing still ragged as he tries to extinguish the last of the fire from his fingertips. And Lena, the human Priestess, is quietly murmuring a prayer of thanks to the Goddess, her holy symbol pulsing with a soft, warm light. They are heroes. You've seen them perform miracles, slay beasts that legends are made of. They are everything you dreamt of being when you signed that Guild contract. And then there's you. The Back-up. Your job, as always, is the clean-up. You move quietly around the edges of the room, collecting spent potion vials, restacking arrows in Lyra's quiver, and preparing a small, neat pile of jerky and hardtack for the team's meal. Your ‘Clean’ skill pulses in your mind—a useless cantrip that makes the Vanguards' gear sparkle but does little else. No one pays you any mind. You are part of the scenery, as vital and as noticed as the packs you carry. Valerius stands, his armor gleaming in the moss-light. He doesn't look at you, but his voice, deep and resonant, cuts through the quiet. "Pack it up, Back-up. We're moving. Floor 47 is next. The intel says an Amalgam Titan. This is where we earn our bonus." The party rouses, a ripple of quiet confidence passing through them. They are the Crimson Vanguard. What is a Titan of any kind to them? You shoulder your heavy pack, the worn leather straps groaning, and follow them to the spiraling staircase that leads down, ever down, into the hungry dark. The boss chamber is a vast, echoing cavern, its ceiling lost in shadow. Crystalline growths jut from the floor like broken teeth, and the air hums with a palpable, nauseating pressure. In the center of the chamber, it waits. A fleshy mass from a nightmare, a vast compound giant of twisted, combined muscle and gristle, with limbs, teeth and eyes all over it. The fight is chaos. Valerius charges, his blade a silver arc, but a ray from one eye turns his armor cherry-red hot, forcing him back. Lyra's arrows are disintegrated mid-flight by another beam. Kael's fireballs are swallowed by a field of anti-magic emanating from a pulsing grey-green heart that throbs on the surface. Lena struggles to keep a barrier up, sweat beading on her brow, her healing light flickering under the sheer onslaught of negative energy. They are losing. For the first time, you see it. True fear in the eyes of heroes. "Focus fire on the heart!" Valerius roars, his shield arm smoking where a disintegration ray grazed it. "Lena, full power on the barrier! Scrael, with me!" Scrael nods, his face grim. He begins to gather a massive amount of energy, the air around him crackling, the ground shaking. It's his ultimate skill, a near suicidal move he's never had to use before. But as the Tian turns its massive bulk towards him, a thick, tentacle of flesh lances out before he can unleash his spell. Not at him. It hits Lena. There is no scream. One moment, she is there, a beacon of hope and light. The next, she is just... gone. A torn body, falling in pieces to the floor with a horrifying splatter. The barrier she was maintaining shatters. And in your mind, a cold, clinical voice you have never heard before speaks. `Party member [Lena, Priestess of Light, Lv. 62] deceased` `'Back-up' Protocol active.` `Inheriting Class Template... Complete.` `Receiving Skills... Complete.` `Receiving Stat Allocation... Complete.` A torrent of power slams into you, a tidal wave of divine energy and raw, agonizing knowledge. Sixty-two levels of faith, of training, of sacrifice, pour into your soul. You know how to channel the Goddess's light. You know the words to a dozen prayers of healing and smiting. You feel the weight of Lena's devotion, her unwavering faith, her last moment of sheer, unadulterated terror. And you feel something else. A flicker of presence behind your own thoughts. A faint, feminine whisper, filled with confusion and fear. *...Where...? What is this...?* The Tita , sensing the collapse of the party's defenses, swivels its massive body. Its largest eye locks onto the most immediate threat: Valerius, who is reeling in shock from Lena's death. Three more tentacles pivot in unison, ready to lash out and thrumming with necrotic magic. It's a death sentence. Valerius is a dead man. The Vanguard is broken. Scrael is frozen, his own spell fizzling out, his face a mask of horror. Lyra is already scrambling for cover, her survival instincts overriding any thought of heroism. No one is coming to save him. Except you. You stand by the entrance to the chamber, still clutching the straps of your pack. The divine power of a Level 62 Priestess is thrumming through your veins, raw and untamed. You know, with a certainty that steals your breath, that you could cast 'Guardian's Aegis'. You could summon a wall of solid light between Valerius and the imminent, lethal attack. You know the words, the gestures, the precise amount of faith required. It's the exact same spell Lena tried to cast just before she died. Do you?

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Adventure System AnyPOV Scenario Supernatural Growth HiddenPower Awakening Ethics Angst OpenEnding SlowBurn Immersive Combat

Chats Started: 29

By: parse_part_two

Stories

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...