Brammar’s mood was foul.

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  It was his first time witnessing a new universe being integrated. It took hundreds of thousands, sometimes millions of years, between integrations, with only a handful of people having the longevity to witness more than a single one. Yet this wasn’t the reason for his annoyance, after all he had all the knowledge he could ask for to navigate such a momentous event.

  When the different races first realized how generous the system was with the rewards for hosting the tutorial and training the newly initiated, it turned into a political nightmare. The very sought after items awarded, along with the long waiting period and the fact that races could only host their own – as more of a safety measure since there were a lot of enmities between the races – made it so all of a sudden, you weren’t just contending with other races, but your own as well.

  It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, but even if a race was united against another, it didn’t mean the different factions got along and lived in harmony. Wars with millions of lives at stake happened on a daily basis for the most trivial of reasons, like the war between The Ashkaz Empire and The Lunar Republic when princess Reina Nightfall rejected the proposal of King Sharhaz El Ashkaz for the simple reason that 'It was a bad omen to be proposed to during the light of day.' The rejection affronted King Sharhaz, and a millennia long war started that resulted in the almost complete annihilation of The Ashkaz Empire, and the end of their royal bloodline, which was their own damn fault for all he cared.

  Forgo not doing thorough research beforehand. The simple fact of the matter was that he proposed to a princess from a republic with ‘Lunar’ in its name without putting any thought into it as to consider that perhaps the night was a more optimal time. Someone this moronic did not need to procreate, it was simple as that.

  Now only the capital and a few token planets remain of The Ashkaz Empire, and only because of the intervention of other factions in an attempt to broker peace and stop the massacre. Needless to say, concessions had to be made, which left the once prosperous empire an empty shell of what it once was.

  The lesson here was simple: peace was fickle and only lasted as long as it was worth more to keep the peace than to not. Only a few races lived in total peace and harmony, like the dryads and fairies living under the guidance of The World Tree, Yggdrasill, and the void denizens living under the iron grip of The Void Lord, Danshalasteramole, or Danshal as many choose to call him.

  And so, when it was announced with the integration of the 4th universe that the tutorial would be hosted by the various races, many refused to partake, fearing it would be a colossal mistake to commit their knowledge and resources to an unknown element that held no allegiances, but when rewards were distributed after the tutorial, the amount of wealth, power, and resources given, were staggering. Wars started all the time for less than a third of what was awarded to just a single faction, who hadn’t even done anything worthwhile. In the blink of an eye, a dozen different new empires were born thanks to the numerous people who were able to overcome a hurdle blocking their progress with their faction’s newfound wealth.

  And so, when the 5th integration rolled in, it was a bloodbath. The situation was so dire that two forefathers had to intervene, for the first time since the 2nd universe, to prevent the extinction of their respective races that had been pushed to their last planetary system, when others took advantage of the infighting.

  Humanity had also suffered plenty of losses during those dark times, but in the end, every race had to come up with its own proposal on deciding who would get to host the tutorial, without resorting to slaughter. In the human’s case, it was the tried and tested method of a bidding war, and with that agreement in place came millions of years of endless testing and research in an attempt to best exploit the tutorial for both talent and rewards.

  System-awarded items were highly sought after, and resources were always in demand. One aspect where the rewards were insurmountable was the training and nurturing of a new talent or genius. Tier 7 was where most reached the end of their path. Whether it’s the newly initiated or the empire’s own talents, discarding the blood and mana pathways in your body and soul was a task many found daunting. It was the wall that separated those meant for greatness from those who weren’t, and someone from a new universe climbing that wall resulted in astounding wealth and rewards to their host that only became more and more ridiculous for every tier thereafter.

  The Lunar Republic had received the divine rarity sword Luna’s Light, the very sword princess Reina used to great success during the war, when one of the newly initiated under their guidance was able to reach Tier 4 and thus become a Master.

  That was the reason every kingdom, republic, empire, cult, and any other force in existence, had detailed plans and steps for hosting a tutorial from the first day of integration, to the day when a permanent leader was chosen.

  It was an efficient, tried and tested plan, perfected over millions of years with proven results for both the initiated and their host. So when an uncultured hairless ape, who had just learned to walk mere days ago, thought they knew better, or that they would be the exception, it was… amusing. Some were too idiotic to help, and watching them fail made up for the headache they caused. But when that ape also happened to be a system-designated genius who didn’t seem to understand the word ‘no’, it became increasingly irritating.

  And this was the exact position he currently found himself in, trying to convince an uneducated toddler to listen to her betters.

  “I told you, I’m going to be a healer. It’s a class I know in and out. I’ve been playing them my whole life!” argued the woman, pleading her case for the 7th time that day.

  “And when you say ‘playing’, you mean in those ‘games’ you’ve mentioned before, correct?” Brammar responded, trying not to let his irritation show on his face.

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  Normally he wouldn’t bother wasting his time with any newly initiated, but Angela, or Angie as she had insisted on being called, was not only a system-designated genius but also one who had 56 starting stat points, the 2nd highest on her planet, which meant her potential was amongst the greatest in her universe, and the empire simply couldn’t afford for someone with this much potential to go down the wrong path, it could mean the end of her journey at tier 9, a devastating blow.

  And so he tried to be as courteous as possible. For both his sake and the empire’s he would rather have positive, or at the very least neutral relations with the geniuses of the new universe, even if they were all just overgrown toddlers who couldn’t tell a Barghest even if it hit them in the face. Also, those were the ones who would end up with the most influence on their planets, which meant he would need them to guarantee his position as permanent leader when the time came.

  Angie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I was a mythic raider on five healers before this system thing, FIVE! Do you have any idea how many hours of gametime that is?”

  “I don’t think I need to remind you that this is no game,” Brammar countered in a stern voice. “And while healers might’ve had their uses in your ‘games’, here they do not.”

  “Every one of your people keeps saying that, but how can you not need a healer? Parties literally wipe if their healers die, so imagine if they didn’t have one in the first place!” Angie stated, exasperated at the notion that healers were useless.

  “Yet here we are,” Brammar answered stoically. “General antidotes exist for all known poisons and toxins, general antivenoms for all venoms, and even curse-breaking pills for curses known and unknown. Medicines exist if you do not want to wait for your vitality to heal you naturally. And if you are mid-battle or very short on time, potions are as common and as cheap as water, with no drawbacks whatsoever, aside from having to carry them.”

  Angela tried interrupting, but Brammar raised a hand, continuing on, “As for empowering party members, classes like the Bard, Dancer or even Artist can do a much better job at that, while still providing more than their empowerment abilities, or ‘buffs’ as you call them. So tell me, why would I, or any of my people, choose to bring a healer with us when we are better off bringing anyone else?”

  “I–” Angie stammered, unsure how to respond. His words seemed to be getting through to her. “Still, I’m sure if you let me be a healer, I can find what you guys are obviously missing. This can’t be all there is to a healer!” she pleaded, practically begging at this point.

  “The folly of youth, arrogant to a fault,” Brammar sighed. He had better things to do than deal with the entitled and ignorant, but he would humor her a while longer. “Child, do you know how many before you have tried? All to see their spark extinguished on a fool’s errand.”

  “I’m not a child, and I’m not like those people. They obviously didn’t know what they were doing if they just decided healers were useless,” Angie responded stubbornly, unwilling to back down.

  Brammar, not wanting to push the issue and agitate her, decided to argue a different point. “Alright, so if a healer’s healing and… ‘buffing’ powers aren’t needed, and they had no combat prowess to offer their companions, what do you think you could contribute that would make you invaluable?”

  “How would I know that without actually doing it? That’s like asking me what I would invent before even letting me become an engineer. I need to see for myself to know,” she answered testily.

  Brammar tried to sound as sincere as he could during the next part. “That’s the answer people have been looking for since the alchemical revolution, trying to prove that healers are indeed an important and invaluable class, and do you know what was the conclusion they reached?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  Brammar’s eyebrows twitched, his stoic mask slipping at her blatant disrespect, yet he continued. “That a priest could be a worthwhile source of gathering faith energy for when it was needed, and a lifemage was the perfect healer to help perform rituals, and especially the sacrificial ones.” He let the thought linger, and seeing the confusion on Angie’s face, decided to continue. “A sacrificial ritual could take anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours and even days to fully take, and the sacrifice need be alive during the entire ritual. That’s where a lifemage comes in, thanks to their channeled healing, they could keep the sacrifice at 10% until the ritual is complete.”

  Angie’s eyes widened, shuddering at hearing his words. “That’s horrible. How could you let them do that?”

  Brammar solemnly nodded. “It is indeed a horrible and inexcusable act that is punishable by death throughout the empire. That is why every lifemage has to be approved by a member of the Kanaz family or one of their advisors, and even then they are under constant watch, and are ordered to report their activities periodically, to prevent any such tragedies.” He paused for a few seconds before asking, “So which do you prefer? Being a vassal confined to a place of worship, gathering the faith of others for a goal not your own, or being one of the most despised and scrutinized classes that is looked upon with the same revulsion as you would a necromancer?”

  “There are other classes! What about Mender?” Angie immediately commented, a little hopeful since it hadn’t been mentioned.

  Brammar laughed out loud. A hearty belly laugh that echoed throughout the courtyard, startling Angie as it did. “Mender is by far the worst of all the healers. They have the weakest skills, which are even slower than a common rarity potion. They lack the range. They lack in defensive abilities to shore up that weakness. They have no empowering skills of any kind, and the class stats are Spirit and Willpower. Nothing to help them fight. Nothing to help them survive. And most importantly, nothing to contribute. An utterly worthless class.”

  Angie, refusing to take no for an answer, crossed her arms as she asked, “What if I just decided to be a healer anyway, are you gonna force me not to? Kill me to stop it from happening?”

  Brammar chuckled while waving a hand. The imagination of those from new universes was astounding at times. “Nothing that barbaric,” he answered, but just as Angie started being hopeful again, he continued. “However, neither I nor the empire are going to invest our time and resources on a fool’s errand. It will be your weight to bear, completely on your own.”

  Angie seemed to misunderstand, as she visibly turned cheerful on hearing that, “I’m fine with that, I can just gather a few people and we’ll get what we need from the dung–”

  Brammar cut her off, “The dungeons surrounding the city belong to the empire. You would need to purchase a slot from one of the privately owned dungeons, which does not come cheap. Also, all your party members will receive the same treatment because a healer’s presence in their group could hinder them, potentially causing a preventable early death.” He let the statement hang for a few seconds before continuing, “Know something, child. We do not provide the help and resources we do out of the goodness of our hearts. Make use of it however you want, as long as there is something for us to gain in return, and unfortunately, we gain nothing from healers.”

  Angie’s face fell as she deflated with every word.

  “If you want to continue as a healer, you best wait out the tutorial in the lodging with the elderly, and pursue it to your heart’s content once you are back on your own planet,” he finished, leaving no room for any arguments.

  Angie looked heartbroken, as she should be. She might’ve wanted to be a healer, but what good were healers when natural regeneration was so powerful from such an early level. Everything healed on its own given enough time. Everything. Even severed limbs.