Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 82: The Heroes’ Party (1)

It was an almost equally difficult day in the province of Metrodorian. After a few days of planning and anticipation, the Application Day had finally arrived.

It ignited King’s City in a fever of gold and desperate ambition.

From the highest spires of the basalt palaces to the lowliest cobblestone plazas, banners fluttered in a chaotic dance of heraldry.

One could just smell the tension in the air.

It smelled like expensive incense, horse sweat, and high blood pressure.

This wasn’t just the usual competition for the Hero’s disciples; this was the birth of the Heroes’ Party.

The stakes had shifted.

Previously, there was only one sun—the Hero—and then six other Awakeners standing by him. But now, under the command of the Kings, there were a total of twenty slots.

Twenty positions to be filled by any Awakener as long as they held the power.

So the tension was at an apex.

And of course it would be.

See it this way, in Evernia, power was not a straight line.

Guilds, Academies, and Kingdoms were not separate silos; they were an entwined mess of contracts and legacies.

A prodigy could be a third-year student at Seven Stars Academy, yet already signed to a lifetime contract with the Golden Spire Guild.

This meant that every name on a list was a potential lawsuit or a blood feud. If a student was chosen, the Academy claimed the "Prestige" to attract noble funding, while the Guild claimed the "Asset" to secure royal contracts.

Throughout the days leading up to this day, the inns of the High District had been scenes of vitriolic quarreling.

In one of the wealthy taverns, representatives from Elderis Stone and God’s City Academy had nearly come to blows over the final Legendary-Talent Archer slot in the Heaven’s Blade Guild.

Both schools were fighting to get their own respective student added to the list, while the Guild threatened to pull gear sponsorships from any candidate who credited their Academy before the Guild.

This was the reality of the vanguard: 20 slots, but a thousand voices claiming ownership over them.

Even worse, the structure of the party only added to the frantic maneuvering:

First, the Main Squad (The Seven): 2 Humans, 2 Elves, 2 Dwarves, and the absolute strongest Awakener from all Kingdoms to lead them. These were the ones meant to stand before the Demon Lord. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Then, the Support Squad (The Thirteen): 4 Humans, 4 Elves, 4 Dwarves, and a secondary Leader, more powerful than the rest of them.

They were the ones destined to defend the world from the endless numbers of Demonspawns.

In a secluded terrace overlooking the marble walls of the palace, Grigor Nightfall stood opposite the Head of the Heaven’s Blade Guild.

The Guildmaster, a man scarred by a dozen Gate Worlds, looked at the name "Nessa Nightfall" on the parchment.

"She’s a Legendary Assassin, Grigor," the Guildmaster rumbled. "She’ll be in the Seven. You know that. Shadow Manipulation is too rare to waste on the Support Team."

"I don’t want her in the Seven," Grigor hissed, his voice trembling with a rare, paternal terror. "But if you must... there’s something you have to promise me."

The Guildmaster narrowed his eyes. "I’m listening..."

Grigor leaned in to whisper.

Thousands of miles away, in the province of Eldermoor, a similar tragedy of duty played out.

King Galadrien and Queen Miriel stood before the Elven branch of the Heaven’s Blade.

"Our daughter, Corisande, as you know, she is a Healer Mage of the Mythic rank," Galadrien said, his silver eyes cold with grief.

"We understand she must be on the list. But hear me, if she is placed in the Main Party, I fear she will fall easily. So, please put her under your care and find the party best fitting for her."

"The Demon Lord does not respect royalty, your Majesty," the Elven Guildmaster replied softly.

"Her Party will.," Miriel added, hiding tears. "We have spoken to Feris. She has agreed to submit her Corisande for the position of the Support Party leader."

The Guildmaster thought for a while. "That can be arranged. She is our princess... after all."

In the mountain province of Stonehold, the reaction was far noisier. King Baldric Ironbeard let out a roar of laughter that shook the soot from the ceiling of his throne room.

"Not one of ’em!" Baldric bellowed, slapping his knee. "Orin, Borin, and Durin... all three of my boys, back from the testing, and not a single one has the talent for the list! Hah!"

His wife, Queen Helga, stood beside him, a furious expression on her face. "You laugh? Our sons are weak! The Ironbeard line will have no representation in the Heroes’ Party."

"Who cares, woman!" Baldric grunted, his eyes softening. "My sons will be safe. And we have other powerful Awakeners willing to fight for us. What exactly is the problem?"

Helga gave her husband a disgusted glare and hissed, looking away. She wanted her sons to be brave Awakeners that kept the Dwarf Legacy strong, but her husband held no such desires.

Whatever the case, it was too late now.

The time for talk ended when the Great Bells of Metrodorian struck noon.

In the meeting hall near the God Temple of Azrael, the three Legacy Awakeners sat at a massive obsidian table with the Council of Nobles.

Azmagrab, Elya, Valerius and Nobian, the Legacy Awakener of Southmarch were present. They looked down upon the representatives, detached and bored, like gods watching ants.

One by one, the Academies were called.

Elderis Stone Academy stepped forward first, their headmaster bowing low as he presented a scroll bound in dragon-hide.

Then Seven Stars, God’s City, and Sky Hand Academies followed.

Each Academy had representatives from the three kingdoms.

Valerius, the Knight Legacy, took the Elderis Stone list. He scanned it, his eyes lingering on a few names.

"Hmm," he muttered. "He could be an excellent choice for the Main Party."

That made the Elderis Stone representative grin.

Azmagrab quickly scanned the Heaven’s Blade list and set it aside, saying nothing.

When they were through with the Academies, they moved on to the Guilds.

Heaven’s Blade, Golden Spire, Sunsparrow, and Iron Guard Guilds all submitted their rosters.

Afterwards, they stayed rooted to the spot, their eyes darting between the Legacy Awakeners and Council members, hoping for a sign, a nod—anything that would guarantee their investment was safe.

The Council members whispered to one another, trying to reconcile the political favors they owed with the raw power demands of the Legacy Awakeners.

The representatives lingered, sweating in their silk and plate armor. The silence stretched until it was unbearable.

Suddenly, Azmagrab stood. His suffocating aura seemed to expand in that moment, filling the hall with a sudden, crushing pressure that forced several representatives to take a step back.

"What are you waiting for?" his stoic voice rang out. "Did you think we would come to a decision today? Did you think the fate of Evernia would be decided in an afternoon of reading your pathetic self-promotions?"

The hall went deathly silent.

"Move along," Azmagrab commanded, waving a hand dismissively. "Back to your schools. Back to your bastions. We will weigh these souls. On the day of the Summit, the Heroes’ Party will be announced to the world. Until then, pray that your ’prodigies’ are as strong as your ink claims them to be."

The representatives turned and left with slumped shoulders and disappointed murmurs.

Azmagrab waited until the doors slammed shut. He looked down at the pile of lists again, eyes narrowing.