Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 83: The Heroes’ Party (2)

The day arrived.

On very few occasions, the Human King, the Elf King and the Dwarf King found themselves in the same building with no present conflict amongst each other.

Today was one of those occasions.

In a plateau of ancient earth, sitting at the exact convergence of the three kingdoms, was a high-altitude sanctuary known as The Soil of Amity—casually called the Center Land.

This land didn’t belong to the Humans, or the Elves or Dwarfs. It was a free land where they could come together and discuss, without the problem of evasion or soil advantage.

It was also in this land that the Sovereign Bastion was built.

The Bastion was less a building and more a mountain carved into a cathedral.

Made of rare, translucent white walls, the building was a relic on its own. It had housed thousands of meetings between hundreds of kings.

It was a place of history.

Today, it was a place that would usher in a new history.

The air inside the Bastion was thick, not just with the heat of the massive crowd, but with the clashing mana signatures of the world’s most powerful beings.

Even though at the moment, these were a united people, one could tell by the seating how fragile this unity truly was.

The Human Quarter was a river of crimson and gold. Commoners from Metrodorian, Northmarch and other provinces close to the Center Land sat excitedly, chatting amongst themselves.

Then the nobles had a table by their corner. Ulcraft sat near the front, his crimson robes tight around his chest as he sneered at the Elves and Dwarfs.

Nearby, Grigor sat calmly. He had returned to his proud, self-assured self. His worries with his daughter had been resolved.

To the east, the Elves sat in their glittering armor, their presence as quiet as a forest before a storm.

To the west, the Dwarves were a boisterous wall of iron and stone. King Baldric’s generals laughed loudly, making faces at King Alfred’s council who glared at them.

In the most prominent positions sat the Legacy Awakeners. All of them.

They were 18 in number, representing the 18 provinces of Evernia. Their unique crests glowed beside them, as well as their levels: Lvl 150, letting everyone else know that they were the most powerful in the world.

Dionocles, the Chief Diviner, stood behind them in his grey robes, looking like a man watching the world walk toward a cliff.

He was tired of speaking, of correcting. So he chose to stay quiet. Watch the world burn itself.

The Gods were quiet too, so why not him?

After sometime, the Speaker for the Summit stepped forward, his voice magically amplified to a thunderous boom that rattled the glass in the lancet windows.

"Welcome, citizens of Evernia! We stand upon the Soil of Amity to declare the death of an old hope and usher in a new age!"

He gestured to his back where the kings and their wives sat on a highly elevated dias. A dias made of gold and moulded to the shape of Azrael’s godly hands.

"Before we begin, let us hear from our rulers!"

King Alfred stood first. He moved to the edge of the dais, the gold of his crown glinting under the midday sun.

"People of Evernia," Alfred began, his voice was a bit grave, but he found some courage and he was using it. "We were promised a savior. We were told an outworlder—the Hero, Percival—would carry the weight of our survival."

He paused.

"But the truth is bitter. Percival has forsaken us. He has abandoned his duty for the shadows, leaving us to bleed while he hides in the fringes of our world."

A wave of dissent rippled through the human crowd.

"That scum. He left us to die."

"Hells unto him. A thousand hells."

"Shut up! Don’t speak about the Spawnslayer like that."

"What the shit are you saying, mhm? Didn’t the Hero abandon us?"

"No he didn’t. Don’t you know what happened in Wolsend?"

"He saved an entire village!"

"He saved my daughter and I from a group of bandits too."

Alfred didn’t respond to the murmurs. "The Hero has made his intentions clear. Because of that, we, your kings, have declared that Evernia will no longer wait. The Heroes’ Party will be our own blood, our own steel. Together, we will end the Demon Lord and prove that we are the masters of our own fate!"

Cheers rose. Hands punched the air in agreement.

Alfred sat, and King Galadrien rose.

The Elven King looked like a being of starlight, his voice soft but carrying to every corner. "Eldermoor agrees. The corruption in our Kingdom is no longer a shadow we can ignore; it is a rot. We are prepared now more than ever to put an end to the Demon Lord."

The Elves agreed, praising their beloved king.

Finally, King Baldric stood, his iron-shod boots clanking against the marble.

"Alfred’s a politician," he barked, causing a few Elves to wince at his volume. "He uses big words to hide the fact that he lost our champion."

Some laughter came from his people and his council. Alfred pretended not to care.

"But Stonehold doesn’t care about politics. We care about war. We’ve been fighting demonspawn since the first mountain was hollowed out. It’s about time you lot joined us. Our Heroes certainly hold more spine than that outworlder!"

"Let us prove it!"

The Dwarfs hailed, fisting the air and chanting.

Dionocles believed he was going to suffer a headache.

Once Baldric returned to his throne, the speaker announced for the Summit to begin!

Three Legacy Awakeners of the capital provinces stepped to the edge of the dais, representing the pinnacle of their respective races.

Azmagrab, Legacy Awakener of Metrodorian, stepped forward first. His orange armor glimmered like a sunshard as he unrolled a scroll.

"For the Human Kingdom," Azmagrab announced, "I and my peers, the Legacy Awakeners of Valoris, have decided that the first to join the Support Party is Stenya Alvorian."

A blonde-haired girl with braids and gleaming orange plate armor stood up from the front row.

She looked totally shocked, her mouth falling open as the realization hit her. An applause rang out for her as she approached the dais with trembling steps.

The Speaker introduced her.

"Stenya Alvorian is a student learning under the halls of Elderis Stone Academy, and is a signed Awakener for the Golden Spire Guild."

The Golden Spire and Elderis Stone representatives smiled in the corners, clapping as well.

"She’s an Arcanist presently at Level 22 with a Legendary Talent. After her training, the Scholars predict she will most certainly reach the highest level of 150!"

Stenya took her position on the dias, hands locked behind her nervously.

Next, representing the Dwarf Kingdom, the Legacy Awakener of Hammerbridge, Sighur Dwagdeath, a Lvl 150 Druid, stepped out.

"From Stonehold, I and my fellow Legacy Awakeners have chosen Ugmar Logbarion!"

A young, massive, and broad-shouldered Dwarf Knight with a beard tied in iron rings marched onto the stage.

He let out a boisterous laugh, his heavy boots shaking the dais. He stood next to Stenya and gave her a wide, toothy grin.

She looked away immediately, her face flushing red with embarrassment as the dwarven people roared and cheered in approval.

"Ugmar Logbarion is also a signed Awakener of the Golden Spire Guild, but a student of the God’s City Academy."

Golden Spire Guildmasters grinned, proud of themselves.

"He’s a Lvl 19 Knight who also has a Legendary Talent. This means, with the right training, he too will reach the Level Cap in no time!"

As the noise settled, Feris Featherfil, representing Eldermoor as the Legacy Awakener of Lirandoril, stepped forward.

She was a Lvl 150 Archer with silver hair and eyes bearing different colors: Shadow and Silver.

As she lifted her scroll to read, the hall fell into a heavy, expectant silence.

"After deliberate thought and the consent from our King and Queen," she said, her voice echoing with a haunting melody, "the Legacy Awakeners of Eldermoor select Princess Corisande Everwood."

An absolute silence followed. Then, a roar of pure shock.

"The King’s daughter?"

"He’s that brave that he sends his own daughter to face the malevolent Demon Lord?"

"As we have come to expect from our great king!"

In the midst of the noise, Corisande stepped onto the dais, and it was like a romantic, ethereal light followed her.

First the noise disappeared, then it was silence. A tangible silence like the crowd collectively held its breath, not only to respect her...

But to honor her beauty as well.

Corisande had a clear, flawless skin, like pale ivory. Her hair was long, made with the mesmerizing color of blue... or perhaps, purple.

It was too magnificent for simple description, flowing like a silken river, the sharp points of her elven ears peeking through the strands.

She had soft, loving eyes that seemed to enchant the air around her.

Shielding her feminine features from the hungry eyes of the crowd was her blue and gold armor finely crafted to both protect and complement her form.

Graceful without sacrificing purpose.

"Princess Corisande of the Elf Kingdom everyone!" the Speaker proclaimed. "She is a student of the Seven Stars Academy and an Awakener under the banner of the Heaven’s Blade Guild!"

Murmurs stirred.

"Presently, she is a Level 10 Healer Mage," the Speaker continued, voice rising. "But she has awakened a Mythic Talent. According to the Scholars, with proper training, she may stand among the first in the Party to reach the Level Cap."

Gasps filled the room, nearly swallowing the applause. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"A Healer Mage with a Mythic Talent? Is that even possible?"

"So the princess was this powerful all along?"

They watched her take her place on the dias, keeping her gaze straight.

But even though Corisande avoided their stares, her silver eyes still caught the light, drawing in every admirer who dared meet them.

"She’s... she’s so beautiful," a human citizen whispered from the back, transfixed.

"Yeah," another replied. "She really is."