ch 39,40,41
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Chapter 39 – Whispers of Preparation
A clear morning stretched across the skies, thin clouds trailing like brushstrokes above the village. Kael stood on the porch, a cup of warm root tea in hand, watching his siblings chase each other near the old well. The laughter grounded him—anchored him to something that felt more real than mana, dungeons, or talking systems.
The world hadn't ended.
Not yet.
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A Conversation With Father
His father joined him, cup in hand, silent for a while before speaking.
"You've grown quiet lately."
Kael shrugged. "Lots to think about."
"Thinking too much can be as dangerous as not thinking at all," the man said, half-smiling. "You remind me of your grandfather. Always had one hand on the sword and one foot in a book."
Kael chuckled. "He has a sword?"
"Not anymore. He gave it up after the war… but if you ask nicely, maybe he'll tell you its name."
He was about to ask more when his mother stepped outside, wiping her hands.
"Kael, come. You've got visitors."
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Visitors From the Capital
Three carriages stood outside their gate—elegant, silver-trimmed, with banners bearing the crest of a broken crown and two leaves.
The capital.
Kael froze.
A boy, maybe a few years older than him, stepped down first. He had silver hair and eyes like polished glass. Confident. Too clean.
"Kael Arinworth?" the boy asked.
Kael blinked. "Yeah?"
"I'm Lysan. From the Academy of Caerhalden. My instructors said you'd be joining the selection trials."
"I am."
Lysan nodded. "Good. I came to see what I'll be up against."
That line should have made Kael nervous.
Instead, he yawned.
"I hope you're not disappointed."
Lysan raised a brow. "Are you always this casual?"
"Only on days that end with 'y.'"
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The Training Begins
Later that evening, Kael stood behind the house in the small open field they used for training. His father, armed with a blunt wooden sword, tossed him another.
"Try to land a hit."
Kael grinned. "Finally. A challenge I might win."
Ten seconds later, he was in the dirt.
"Okay," he coughed. "Maybe not."
"You rely too much on your summons," his father said, offering him a hand. "They're useful, yes—but what happens if you can't summon?"
Kael took the hand and stood.
"I punch them."
His father smiled. "Let's make sure that punch counts."
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Summoning Practice
That night, Kael returned to his domain. Under the soft glow of the mana moonlight, he sat near the Bonefang Tree. With a flick of his hand, a skeleton rose. Then another.
Each of them slightly different.
One held a cracked sword. Another had sharper bones.
Seventeen's voice drifted.
"You're getting better at shaping them. Eventually, they'll learn to hold memory."
Kael tilted his head. "Memory?"
"Imagine a warrior that remembers each time it was defeated… and adapts. That's necromancy at its peak."
Kael watched the skeletons fight—awkward, clunky movements that slowly began to shift into something… cleaner.
"I'm still just a kid," he whispered.
"That's what makes you dangerous."
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A Letter From Grandma
That same night, Kael received a sealed letter.
His grandmother's seal.
He opened it carefully.
> "My dearest Kael,
The academy is a fine place to learn. But remember: not everything worth learning happens in a classroom.
You are allowed to fail. You are allowed to be uncertain.
But never—ever—forget your heart.
*With all my love,
Grandmother Alyra"*
Kael folded the letter and tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat.
"I won't forget."
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Chapter 40 – The Road That Divides Us
The day came like a soft whisper—a gentle breeze sweeping over the village fields, skies painted in a pale shade of gold, and the smell of early summer herbs rising from the earth. It was the kind of morning that made people slow down, drink their tea a little slower, speak a little softer, as if the wind itself was listening.
For Kael, it was the last quiet morning before everything would change.
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Packing Light, Carrying Heavy
Kael stood in his room, staring at the small bag on his bed. It held only the essentials: a change of clothes, a waterskin, a carved wooden pendant his mother gave him when he was eight, and a sealed letter his father had slipped into his hand without a word.
He hadn't opened it yet.
Seventeen spoke softly in his mind.
"You seem heavy."
"I'm not scared," Kael whispered, tying the bag shut.
"I didn't say you were."
"…I just don't want them to think I'm excited to leave."
"Because you're not?"
"…No. I'm not."
He looked out the window at his little brother and sister playing in the garden. His mother was plucking fresh herbs. His father sat on the fence with that usual calm, pretending to fix a tool but mostly watching over them all.
This was his world.
But it wasn't the only one anymore.
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The Farewell
The villagers gathered near the edge of the eastern road where the stone marker stood—weathered and old, carved with the names of every child who had once left the village to find their place in the larger world.
Kael's name would be carved there today.
A tradition.
Not an ending. Just a beginning.
Still, it felt like something was closing.
"You're leaving too soon," Mira said, puffing her cheeks as she handed him a small pouch of honey-cured nuts. "And you better come back taller. At least one head taller."
Kael smiled. "I'll try."
Lena, the baker's daughter, hugged him without warning. "Don't die. Don't get famous and forget about us either."
"I won't. And I won't," he said awkwardly.
Then came the hardest part.
His little sister, Kiri, ran up with tear-streaked cheeks. "You're not allowed to go!"
"I have to," Kael whispered, kneeling. "But I'll write letters. And when I'm strong, I'll come back and take you flying on a skybeast, okay?"
She sniffled. "Promise?"
He held out his pinky.
"Pinky promise."
His little brother, Tom, was more composed. Barely. He shoved a folded drawing into Kael's hands and looked away.
On the back was scribbled: "Hero Big Brother."
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The Old Man's Gift
Grandfather Arin arrived last, carried on a wooden chair by two of the older uncles. Despite his age, his presence was sharp as ever—like a sword hidden in silk.
"You'll go far, Kael," he said with a slow nod. "But promise me one thing."
Kael leaned in.
"Don't let the world teach you what power means. Decide that for yourself."
Kael nodded.
Then, from under his cloak, the old man passed him a dagger.
Simple.
Worn leather grip. A crescent symbol etched near the base of the blade.
"This was mine," he said. "It never failed me. May it serve you until something greater finds your hand."
Kael took it with trembling fingers.
"Thank you, Grandpa."
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The Road Opens
The academy's representative stood beside the carriage. Lysan looked almost bored, his fine coat spotless as usual. Kael joined him with one last look at the village.
It looked smaller than before.
Or maybe… he had grown bigger.
He climbed into the carriage, waved one last time, and shut the door.
The wheels turned.
The village began to fade.
His siblings ran after the carriage, shouting his name, their voices carried away by the wind.
Kael pressed his forehead to the glass.
"Don't forget this," he whispered to himself.
Seventeen's voice was quiet.
"You won't. It's a part of you now."
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The Road That Divides Us
The carriage rolled across hills and plains for hours. Kael watched the world pass—the forests growing thicker, the rivers wider, the sky somehow feeling higher.
He opened the letter from his father.
> "Son,
The world you enter will be loud. It will tell you what to be, who to chase, what matters.
But your worth is not in your power. It's in your choices.
Don't follow the noise.
Listen to the quiet voice inside you—the one that helped you comfort your sister, protect your friends, stand for what you believe in.
That voice is your true power.
Love always,
– Dad"
Kael folded the letter and tucked it close to his chest.
For a long time, he said nothing.
But inside his heart, something rooted itself deep.
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Chapter 41 – The Gate of Trials
The carriage wheels slowed, the steady rhythm broken by gravel underfoot and the sudden shift of voices—a hundred, maybe more, all layered together like a wave crashing against a shore.
Kael looked up from his letter.
Outside, beyond the small curtain-draped window, the world had changed.
Stone towers rose like jagged teeth, surrounding a colossal field covered in tents, banners, and waiting figures. Flags of silver, blue, crimson, and gold flapped in the wind—each bearing the symbol of a different academy or noble house. Beyond them stood the trial gates, tall enough to kiss the clouds and wide enough to swallow a fortress.
A nervous flutter rose in Kael's chest.
This wasn't his village.
This was where dreams were tested… and broken.
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The Academy Trial Grounds
The carriage door creaked open.
Kael stepped down and almost stumbled. The sheer number of people struck him like a tidal wave. Boys and girls his age, many older. Some dressed in fine robes, others in battle-scarred leather. Their eyes carried ambition. Pressure. Fear. Arrogance.
He felt small again.
"Easy," Seventeen whispered. "Everyone's faking it. Even the ones who look like they've got it all figured out."
Kael didn't answer. He just walked forward, the leather strap of his bag biting into his shoulder, his grandfather's dagger tucked safely at his waist.
He'd arrived.
This was the beginning.
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The Announcement
A massive platform had been built near the center of the field. Five figures stood atop it—each representing one of the Great Academies of the Human Domain.
In the middle stood a woman draped in white and gold, her voice magnified by magic as she addressed the gathering crowd.
"Awakeners! Welcome to the Tier-5 Trials of the Human World! You have been summoned here not only to test your strength but to determine whether you are worthy of stepping into the Gate."
A ripple of murmurs moved through the crowd.
She continued.
"These trials will not only sort you by class and potential, but also measure your resolve. The Gate will not accept the unworthy. The demons, the beasts, the insects—they do not wait. They take. Every day. And we… must take back what is ours."
Cheers erupted from the right side—mostly from the noble camps.
Kael just stared at the Gate behind her.
It wasn't a door in the normal sense. It was a massive circular construct of stone and energy, humming softly. Runes moved along its frame like gears, glowing brighter the closer one got.
Tier 5. He remembered what Grandpa said.
"The Tier of Determination. The weakest of the higher gates… but the strongest of the lower ones."
This was where real awakeners started their journey.
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Old Faces, New Rivals
"Hey! Villager boy!"
Kael turned to see a familiar face—Thorne, the blacksmith's son from the neighboring village. Stocky, loud, and full of misplaced confidence.
Thorne smirked. "Didn't think I'd see you here. Thought you'd still be planting carrots."
Kael blinked. "And I thought you'd still be chasing pigs."
The nearby group snickered. Even Thorne cracked a grin. Then he walked off, joining a few others. Kael caught glimpses of armor, weapons, and even a girl with dual daggers.
"That one's trouble," Seventeen noted. "He's loud, but he trains hard. Watch his footwork during the test. He's stronger than he looks."
Kael nodded.
He wasn't here to fight Thorne.
He was here to prove something to himself.
And maybe… to protect the ones he loved.
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The Trial Types
A man in dark blue robes came forward, holding a scroll. His voice boomed.
"Candidates will be sorted into three categories of trial based on initial energy scan and class declaration: Combat, Support, or Strategic. Each trial is tailored. No two awakenings are the same."
Kael stiffened. Class declaration?
But no one had asked him about his class yet.
That's when Seventeen whispered.
"I'll block the scan. Your Necromancer class is hidden, remember? Just let them see a general summoner signature. That'll pass."
"Will that work?"
"It's like sneaking berries from your mother's pie. If you're quiet and quick, no one notices."
Kael winced. "You've done that before, haven't you?"
"…Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."
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The Gate Pulse
Kael lined up with others near the platform where the first trial was set to begin.
Suddenly, the Gate pulsed.
A low hum, like a giant heart beating just beneath the earth.
Everyone froze.
Then, the platform lit up with a circle of blue fire. Runes spiraled from the base into the sky, and one by one, names began to float into the air.
A woman beside Kael whispered, "The Gate is choosing."
Choosing what?
Seventeen answered before he could ask.
"The order of testing. It senses potential. It decides who's ready."
Kael's name appeared. Near the middle.
He let out a slow breath.
Not first. Not last.
That was fine.
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The First Trial: The Spirit Beast
The group Kael joined was led through a stone arch into a training arena.
They were told nothing.
Just placed in a circular space with weapons of every kind around the edges.
Then, a spirit beast materialized.
It was translucent. Wolf-like. Three tails. Eyes like glowing moons. A construct of energy made by the examiners—designed to respond to real intent and power.
The others scattered and drew weapons.
Kael reached for his dagger, unsure what to expect.
"You don't need to kill it," Seventeen said. "You need to show you can survive. Think. Move. Adapt. That's what they're watching."
Kael ran left.
Thorne was already charging, hammer raised.
Another boy summoned flames in his palm, throwing them blindly.
Kael slipped between them both, searching for patterns in the beast's movement. Then he saw it—its tails moved before its pounce.
Predictable.
He waited.
Dodged.
Ducked under a claw.
Slashed across the leg—not to harm, just to mark.
The beast stopped.
Then bowed its head.
A judge clapped from the stands.
"Awakener Kael. Passed."
Kael exhaled.
One trial done.
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What Comes Next
Later that night, Kael sat near a small campfire beside the trial grounds. The stars were out, brighter than usual. He held the pendant from his mother in his hand, turning it over slowly.
Seventeen spoke after a long pause.
"You did well. Most of those kids tried to show off. You adapted."
Kael looked at the Gate in the distance, still glowing.
"What's on the other side?"
"…Everything. Pain. Glory. Monsters. People like you. And people nothing like you."
Kael smiled slightly.
"I guess I'll see for myself soon."
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