William was having a meal in the cafeteria, completely lost in thought while eating.
He was currently working on his mana channels and advancing his technique, and now that he had practical experience, He was performing calculations using his mind while the food slowly disappeared from in front of him.
After eating, he made his way to his next class, still engrossed in his own theories.
It was only after the class started that he stopped and focused back on reality.
'I need to make a spell that would allow me to split my consciousness in two, though that in itself sounds riskier than my mana brain method.'
He thought to himself, realizing that his imagination was going overboard. All he needed to do was focus on his current self and progress slowly and steadily.
He also had to calculate the aftereffects of his meddling in the timeline, but that was too much of a task for his current mental capacity. He would first need to advance to a fourth-rank mage to do so.
After class, William decided to visit the practice grounds to explore his ideas further. He found an empty training area and began to experiment with his mana.
He focused on expanding his mana channels, visualizing them widening and strengthening with each exercise. He practiced controlling the flow of mana, directing it with precision and finesse.
Since his mana had to travel up his spinal cord to enter his brain, this made the situation dangerous, as a single mistake could cost him his life. Thankfully, he was being slow and meticulous, stopping as soon as he noticed something was off.
However, in the end, he didn't manage to make any progress in his method, nor did he improve his mana level. It was one of many failed experiments.
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Draconian domain, Bayanase.
The Draconians didn't have the concept of cities or villages. Just like dragons, they were relatively solitary, except for the tribes they governed.
Each Draconian tribe had its own representative, who was ranked based on power. There were thirteen such representatives, who were called "Rulers" by the Draconians and also the rest of the world.
The eldest of these "Rulers" was the head, the current being a male Draconian named Boddrom.
Boddrom was a Draconian who was covered from head to toe in large scales, his hair even merging with his back, creating spinal columns of some sort. Although he was old, his appearance would suggest otherwise; he looked like a man in his sixties and not like a being that had lived for over five hundred years.
At the moment, all thirteen of the "Rulers" were gathered outside Boddrom's cave. The twelve of them knelt as they waited for the Elder to come out of his home.
The ground shook as a giant figure walked out of the cave, his gaze expressionless. He resembled more of a turtle than a dragon, but every "Ruler" here knew their positions well.
As soon as Boddrom exited his cave, he sat down, his lanky figure resting and waiting for the "Rulers" to speak.
The "Rulers" looked at one another, but after a bit, all of the gazes fell on the second-oldest Draconian of the group.
"This humble Draconian, Neorvarod, greets the elder."
Said the Draconian, his wrinkly face crumpling slightly, not liking the situation.
Seeing him bow, all of the other "Rulers" did the same, their heads lowered.
Boddrom, the elder Draconian, observed Neorvarod and the other Rulers' respectful gestures with an impassive expression. His eyes, however, flickered with a hint of curiosity. Neorvarod was known for his straightforward and direct nature, often voicing his opinions without hesitation.
"Neorvarod, you may speak."
Boddrom spoke in a deep, rumbling voice that echoed in the surrounding area.
"The Thirteenth "Ruler" has fallen, and the strongest warrior of their tribe has taken his position."
His words surprised Boddrom as he looked around at the "Rulers" in curiosity. After looking for only a split second, he noticed the new figure.
It was a young Draconian with dark red hair resembling syrup. Two giant fins protruded from the back of his head, resembling damaged elephant ears.
The young Draconian bowed deeply when the Elder glanced at him directly, cold sweat falling from his forehead.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Seeing his reaction, Neorvarod smiled and spoke.
"The child's name is Zemyrth, and despite his young age, he is quite the warrior. Thirteen didn't die of natural causes; rather, he was killed by this young one. It has already been three years since it happened."
Boddrom groaned, clearly displeased by the situation, but didn't say anything, knowing that it was his mistake to enter such long periods of secluded meditation.
"Did something serious happen? There is no way all of you would gather if it wasn't the case."
After thinking for a bit, he asked, prompting the rest of the rulers to sigh. Boddrom frowned at their reaction, realizing that something really did happen.
"A half-demon attacked the World Tree, almost destroying it in the process. After communicating with Lady Yggdrasil, we found that the cause behind her damage was a demonic nail, probably the nail of a being at the same level as the Demon King or a nail of the Demon King directly. An assembly was held not too long ago, and we voted for the creation of a separate force to protect against attacks directed at the God Spirits. We are thinking of sending Zemyrth but still require your permission to do so."
The person to speak at this time was highly unique compared to the rest of the Draconians.
Despite having a manly voice, their appearance was extremely feminine, to the point where one wouldn't be able to discern their gender. In fact, this Draconian, unlike the rest, didn't have a gender. Arvayd was their name, and they held themselves in a loop, being manly at one point and feminine at the other. It was pretty bizarre to see a person change so drastically in real-time like it was nothing, but all of the "Rulers" weren't fazed in the slightest.
Arvayd was androgynous no matter what gender they picked as if they were a perpetual blend of the two biological genders at all times.
After hearing Arvayd's words, Boddrom's face became slightly pale, even anxious to an extent.
Placing one hand on his knee and one on the ground, he punched lightly, creating a small hole. The hole didn't have a wide radius, but the depth was incredible.
With a single action, Boddrom dug over a kilometer into the ground without even trying to. Boddrom clenched his teeth in displeasure.
The other rulers watched silently as Boddrom released his frustration through the display of his immense physical strength. It was clear that the news had deeply unsettled him.
Neorvarod, taking a step forward, spoke up again.
"The movement of the demons has become way too noticeable in the last few years. Even the oracles have told us that the world is about to fall into chaos. We cannot afford to underestimate the demons' capabilities. That is why we believe it is necessary to send Zemyrth, our youngest ruler, to join the newly formed protection group, as we are too old to improve our strength further."
Boddrom let out a heavy sigh, the weight of responsibility pressing upon him. He knew the importance of the matter and the catastrophic consequences that would follow. The demons' assault on the World Tree was a clear indication of their determination to bring chaos and devastation to the land.
"Very well, Zemyrth shall join the protection squad. We cannot allow the demons to succeed in their plans. Ensure that he is properly prepared for this task. Also, make sure that Kothog doesn't hear of this. That boy needs to train for quite some time."
Boddrom finally spoke, his voice tinged with resignation. He knew that the demons would not only target the World Tree but also other essential parts of their world.
Everyone fell silent at those words, not knowing how to respond. Zemyrth, who had not understood the tension between the rulers after Kothog was mentioned, spoke.
"Didn't Kothog already join the hero part a few weeks ago? We escorted him all the way to Baryngoria after all."
The other rulers immediately feigned ignorance of the matter, moving away from Zemyrth, who looked at them in confusion.
Boddrom stood frozen solid for a few seconds, trying to process what he had just heard. Mana slowly congregated around his body as countless particles became visible to the naked eye.
Zemyrth opened his wide at the scene and hesitated to back off, but noticing that all the other "Rulers" ran away the instant the particles appeared he did the same.
The energy around Boddrom condensed, creating excruciating heat and changing the environment around him.
"You're telling me you let that useless fool join the party just because he is of age? You lot know that he is probably the weakest of the heroes of this generation and is probably making us look like fools!"
Boddrom screamed in rage, metal spikes appearing from below his feet, rushing towards the other "Rulers."
Boddrom wasn't just an ordinary elder but also the Hero of his generation. His [Transmute] aspect was less powerful than the newest generation's, but his control was far more superior. The metal spikes transformed in mid-air, turning into chains, and latched on to all the fleeing "rulers".
As the chains latched onto the fleeing rulers, clarity returned to Boddrom's eyes. His rage subsided as he realized the gravity of his actions. With a wave of his hand, he dispelled the chains, releasing his fellow rulers from their confines.
"Forgive me."
Boddrom rumbled, his voice heavy with remorse.
"I allowed my anger to cloud my judgment. It was my fault for not noticing the time. Although Kothog is young, he should have matured enough to understand."
Neorvarod, who had managed to regain his composure, stepped forward once more, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. The other "Rulers" also nodded at his words, agreeing.
"Elder Boddrom, we understand your frustration. Kothog's departure was not a decision taken lightly. However, it was deemed necessary for him to gain experience and hone his skills alongside the heroes. His potential may yet surprise us."
Boddrom nodded, acknowledging Neorvarod's words. He knew that as a leader, he couldn't afford to let his emotions dictate his actions, especially in times of crisis.
"Indeed, you are correct, Neorvarod. We must have faith in Kothog's abilities and trust that he will rise to the occasion when needed."
With that, Boddrom took a deep breath, the tension in the air gradually dissipating. The other rulers sighed in relief, grateful that their Elder had regained his composure.
"Now, let us focus on the task at hand. Zemyrth, you will join the newly formed protection squad and undergo rigorous training to prepare for the challenges ahead. We must ensure that the God Spirits remain safe from harm. I will also send a wisp of my being with you just in case anything happens. As for Kothog, although sending a guardian is not allowed by the [Pact], it doesn't mean that we can't find another way."
Zemyrth nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation. Despite his youth, he was determined to prove himself worthy of his new role. The other Rulers also understood their assignment.
As the meeting concluded, the rulers dispersed, each returning to their respective tribes to make preparations. Boddrom remained behind, deep in thought, as he contemplated the events that had transpired. He couldn't enter seclusion again for the time being.
"The beginning of the end has finally started…"
He muttered, his age-worn figure hunched over while an aura of death surrounded his body.