The Evernon Saga - The Journey Of Ascension, A Struggle For Godhood.

The words of the herald echoed in the minds, and reverberated in the souls of all the villagers. This was especially true for the youths in the village, who played and trained with dreams of enlisting in the Royal Army and receiving formal training to become a Warrior. William and Magnar turned to look at each other, grinning from ear to ear, all hunger forgotten. They excitedly rushed to the source of the voice, eager to find out just what was going on, and how they could be a part of it.

"There are two criteria for participation, as decreed by The Square Table, with the first of the two being that one must be under 20 years of age!", boomed the herald's voice once more.

This caused many youths to cheer and even more a.d.u.l.ts and young a.d.u.l.ts over 20 to sigh in dejection. Due to the infrequency of the Royal Kingdom's Royal Army recruitment, combined with the fact that the age limit varied drastically with every announcement, the older populace of Nashya never knew what to expect. However, the hope for the chance that they might be able to participate in the next selection remained. These individuals were desperately grasping at straws that might not belong them anymore.

Regardless, a sizeable crowd of around 500 villagers soon gathered at the entrance of the village, which faced the mainland and was where a trodden path leading out and away from the village started. After a round of murmurs and cheers, the crowd quietened down once more.

They saw the herald, who was a relatively rugged-looking middle-aged man, clad in a mixture of plate and leather armor, with the latter being the majority. He had two short swords, hanging on his waist. However, something about him gave off the impression that he was unapproachable and unfathomable. It felt as if was impossible for one to see through him or know what he was thinking.

After the crowd had eventually silenced itself, the herald cleared his throat and announced, "The second decree issued by The Square Table, is that all participants must be under Tier 1!"

...

After a few moments of awkward silence, the villagers broke into unrestrained, roaring laughter.

Tier 1? Before 20 years of age? This has got to be a joke!

Children usually only start to gain Experience from the age of 5, with those who possess unnatural talent beginning at 4 years of age. Starting at 3 was unheard of, only myths and legends told of such a tale. By the time the village's youth reached 20 years of age, they would usually be Level 13 or 14.

The reason for that is because after a certain age and Level attainment, Experience gain slows down tremendously, as the villagers do nothing new or challenging for them. They are just getting by in life with their normal routines of staying alive and having to spend all their efforts to barely stay out of poverty.

In contrast, the young men and women from the Capital or other big towns and cities would naturally be at least a Level or two higher due to them having more resources and opportunities to train offered to them from the moment they start gaining Experience.

Seeing the villagers in such boisterous laughter, he shook his head, weariness appearing upon his countenance. Such a naive bunch, they don't even entertain any hope, or wish of reaching a higher state of existence to improve their lives. With Levels came strength, power and most importantly ability. A couple villagers of a higher Level or even Tier could do the work of 50 or more, at twice or even thrice the speed, acc.u.mulating resources at a frightening pace. The village could immediately leap out of near-poverty and have enough resources to begin trading with neighboring villages.

From then on, it would just be smooth sailing to establishing a flow of income and gradually, over time, improving the living conditions and housing of the village. Sadly, these bumpkins had no such aspirations, no potential to speak of. Shaking his head, the herald glanced over at an old man with a wooden staff, who was wearing a lavender robe, sitting in a chair and stroking his beard. The chair was on the balcony of the largest building in the village, the 3-storey-tall Village Chief's home!

This old man was the chief of the village!

"After a brief stay to rest, I shall leave this village! In half a year's time, I shall return with enough carriages to fit 100 people! We shall hold a preliminary test to filter out those of you who are worthy! Train well and await my return, for after we have chosen the 100 candidates, we shall ride back to the Capital for you to take part in a tournament for further filtering! Rest assured, there will be a sufficient number of Warriors who will come along to serve as guards for our caravan! Parents, do not hold back your children for the sake of your selfish worries!" continued the herald.

The herald's powerful voice seemed to reach its peak volume on his last sentence, possessing a strange power that made more than a few parents have unsightly expressions, and yet feel absolutely powerless and subservient.

"Dismissed!" roared the herald as he dismounted from his horse.

The crowd of villagers scattered swiftly, the children appearing very excited and the parents conflicted. The herald made eye contact with the chief, and began to slowly walk over to his residence. Suddenly, two teenage boys ran over to him. One of them was handsome but quite short, yet there was something about him, something indescribable about the intelligence shining in his eyes, that made the herald interested in this boy. The other boy was almost as tall as he himself was, and had a physique that was nothing to joke about. He was more visually impressive than even some Warrior trainees. Curiously, the herald asked:

"What is it? Do you have some business with me?"

Upon hearing this, the two boys looked at each other and grinned, the shorter one introducing them.

"My name is William, and this is Magnar. We were wondering what kind of place the Capital is like, and how strong the Warriors are there!"

Upon hearing this, the herald had an amiable smile on his face, somewhat boasting,

"Well young ones, the Capital of our Royal Kingdom is very huge, and extremely prosperous. The Warriors there are well-trained and strong, the vast majority of them being at the beginning of Tier 1. But those are the ones who are not enlisted within the Royal Army. All Warriors who have completed their formal training with the Royal Army's instructors reach the late stages of Tier 1 at the very minimum."

"Late stages of Tier 1?!" gasped William and Magnar.

Tier 1 was a state that was far away for them, let alone others their age who were probably two-thirds of their Level. One didn't even need to mention the late stages of it.

Simultaneously, the herald mentally scrutinized William and Magnar very closely, without any noticeable change in the expression of his face. After a brief moment of observation, his eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened in surprise.

This...

This can't be!

The herald then shot a glance at the village chief, who gazed right back at him knowingly, stroking his beard slowly.

"Say old man, are you strong too?" implored William cheekily.

The herald was taken aback, and grinned.

"Who are you calling an old man, twerp!" growled the herald as he threw a punch towards William's face. This punch was fearsome, faster than the untrained human eye could see, and contained such power that it made the wind roar briefly. However, it was controlled and came to a stop right in front of William's nose, in less than two tenths of a second.

Half a second after it ended, William attempted to jump back and cross his arms in front of his face, but he ended up falling hard on his b.u.t.t. His back was drenched in cold sweat and his pupils were constricted. His breathing was ragged and came in gasps, as if he had just gotten thrown into a pond of water near freezing point. William's body was in disarray, both physically and mentally due to how much terror he was experiencing.

William felt the threat of death behind that punch.

He instinctively knew, that if that punch had connected, there wouldn't even be a head left to fall down from his shoulders. The speed of the punch was not something that William could comprehend, let alone have the timing to react to accordingly. He felt like his body was heavier than usual, and very lethargic. It was a similar feeling to how he felt the first time when he angered Joseph, but this was not as exaggerated.

Magnar stood in a daze briefly before taking a step back and putting his hands up, an instinctive reaction, but with a fearful and confused expression on his face. He couldn't stop his legs from shaking slightly.

William then scrambled to get back up on his feet, but it was exceedingly difficult. He could only slowly raise himself and straighten his legs one centimeter at a time, otherwise he would collapse back onto the floor. Holding eye contact, William stood up shakily until he was standing straight once again, facing the herald.

This shocked the herald, as he didn't expect William to be able to stand back up. In fact, he wanted to walk off after spooking him, but obviously he couldn't do that now.

With a smirk, the herald chided, "So, do you think I'm strong? If you want to become like me, make sure you sign up in 6 months. You've got guts, being able to stand up after that. I like you, kid!"

Humming a tune, he casually walked off after that, armor rustling and swords clinking in their scabbards with every step he took. Looking at his back, William and Magnar almost seemed to see a looming mountain instead of a man. He walked up to the door of the village chief's home and walked inside, disappearing from their sight.

"H-he was...v-very strong, wasn't he?" Magnar asked shakily, wiping sweat off his brow.

"Y-yes he was, Magnar, he was incredibly strong." confirmed William with a small trace of conviction.

William didn't like how this strength that the herald displayed made him feel. He didn't even say his name! He felt utterly oppressed for a short while, like his life and death were under the control of that punch. He felt despair, frustration, but most of all, determination. He did not wish to feel that way again! He wanted to get stronger!

...

As the herald walked up to and leaned onto the doorway of the balcony door, the sight of the village chief sipping a hot cup of tea while sitting in a chair in front of a table, was what greeted him. There was another empty chair opposite the chief, with a filled teacup in front of that chair. The herald chuckled.

"Not even answering the door, as courteous as ever, aren't you old man?" sighed the herald.

"I don't need any attitude from a walking midlife crisis. Now be seated and have some tea, it's good." snapped the village chief.

The herald had an ugly expression on his face. Seating himself, he took a gulp of the hot tea. The searing liquid was unable to harm his insides, therefore he was just immersing himself in the rich herbal flavor of the tea. His fatigue from the 2-day ride seemed to almost completely vanish within a few moments.

"This tea is indeed quite good."

"Right?" gloated the village chief.

Lowering his head and gaze, whilst clasping his fists in front of him, the herald said, "Now, to get down to business. Firstly, I offer my greetings as a junior, to a former senior member of the Blade Regiment. Second, I implore you to tell me why you have not done anything about those two young men. Why have you mentioned nothing of them in your monthly reports to the Capital?"

"I don't know, probably forgot." said the village chief nonchalantly.

The herald slammed the table.

"Answer my question seriously Sir Frost! They are many Levels above where they should be! They have left everyone else in their generation in the dust!" shouted the herald as his Aura unintentionally flared up and exposed itself.

"Insolent!" thundered Frost as he unleashed his Aura to envelop and restrain the herald's, in order to prevent it from affecting any innocent villagers.

"And Frost is not my name, my title was Frostblade. My name, is Damond Whiteheart."

A chill settled on the balcony, with their breaths turning to vapor and the previously-hot tea freezing over slowly. Frost covered the balcony floor, the tables and chairs, as well as its railings. It even began to creep across the doorway of the balcony and enter the house slowly.

"Do not take me for a fool, Reginald. I am well aware of the two little monsters amongst the youth of my village. However, I have left them untouched as I wish for them to experience what a childhood is like. I may have the resources and ability to nurture them like young lords of an opulent family, but I d.e.s.i.r.e for them to have their peace before growing up, for they are children like any other. Logically speaking, they have only gained Experience earlier than others, or more rapidly than others. They are still physically and mentally imm.a.t.u.r.e. Even if their futures are immeasurable and if their achievements were to be legendary, leave that pressure to be shouldered by their future, stronger selves." declared Damond regally.

This regal Aura and air about Damond startled Reginald, which then led to him chuckling self-deprecatingly.

"Middle...no, Late stages of Tier 2? And the current snot-nosed, newer generation higher-ups dare to say you've likely fallen from Peak Tier 2 to the state of a normal mortal in the 90 years you've been off service...Even your renowned 'Domain of the Frostblade' is still intact..." murmured Reginald.

His hands that slammed the table, were now frozen to it and were covered in solid ice. He did not know what to do about it.

Regret overwhelmed him.