Jiran was gently roused by softly chirping birds as they frolicked in the early morning light. An instant later, he was overwhelmed by a rush of conflicting emotions as adrenaline jolted him fully awake.

Today is the day!

Combating a surge of nervous excitement, he coaxed his rapid breaths and thumping heart to return to their normal cadence.

The celebration isn’t until tonight. It may be my first birthing day, but work still needs to be done.

He stretched lightly, extending his small, wiry limbs to their full length and released a breath of steam into the frigid air. He rose to his feet and carefully stepped around his parents, smiling at their contented snoring. A fire pit dominated the center of their cozy home. Jiran stoked the coals and placed a new log on the dying embers.

At least their morning will be a little warmer than mine.

He pulled on his day clothes, made sure he had his satchel with meals prepared from the night before, then stepped into the cool dawn. First Father’s blazing red light had just begun to peak above the Murinth Ocean’s horizon.

“Perfect, I'm not late,” Jiran moved quickly, enjoying the fresh coastal air and the buzz of other villagers beginning their day alongside him.

I wonder if I’ll get there before Uncle today.

Jiran passed through the familiar sights of his village. Small huts and sturdy, stone houses lined the narrow streets. The thirty homes and shops that made up their village rested far above the ocean, separated from it by a rocky cove and sheltered pier.

“Jiran! Come here,” Elder Mireg’s waving hand moved so quickly, he saw afterimages as she motioned him to her side.

She never slows down for anyone.

“Good morning, Elder Mireg, are you expecting any deliveries today?”

“Only if that good-for-nothing Skandor gets off his lazy backside and brings in some decent meat. I swear he only hunts the weakest beasts at the edge of the forest as if he were still a child with his first bow!”

Her words blurred together into a chain of syllables that were hard to decipher. Luckily, Jiran had plenty of practice as he often encountered the tier three elder on his way to work. She continued speaking, not giving him a moment to respond.

"Well, my old bones are telling me we’re going to see a real beast soon. After all, Madra abhors stagnation. It’s been far too long since Skandor was pushed,” She gesticulated wildly, with a voice loud enough to make the people on the other side of the street uncomfortable.

Jiran flinched at both the volume of her speech as well as the implication that they may soon face a village-ending attack.

“Please don’t say that, Mother. Look at the poor boy, you’re putting the fright right in him!” came a gentle chiding from Mireg’s daughter as she organized her vegetable stand.

Mireg snorted, “Well, if he’s lucky, that’s exactly what will happen,” She pointed her finger right at Jiran’s nose and continued with a frown. “Jiran needs to claim his imperial tithe from Skandor, and the influx of density will boost the entire village. Fathers know we could use it, scraps from low tier beasts will only take a village so far.”

She wasn't wrong, but a tier four beast could easily spell doom for everyone in the village, and they all knew it. Jiran gulped, taking a nervous step away from her too-close finger. “I really must be going ma'am. Is there anything I can do for you this morning? A message for Uncle perhaps?”

Mireg, still frowning, saw his discomfort and shot him a toothy smile. “No, child. I just wanted to give you a gift for your celebration today,” She quickly handed him a small, freshly baked bun. “Take it and get along now.”

Jiran’s fingers tingled as they came into contact with the treat. He backed away from the elder with wide eyes and bowed fully to show his gratitude. The smell wafting off the bread invaded his nostrils, sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.

“Just remember this old lady when you get around to being a hunter, then you can bring me something nice to return the favor,” She chuckled while tussling his hair.

Jiran had to swallow the suddenly-abundant saliva in his mouth before he could speak. “Yes ma’am, of course. Thank you so much!” Afraid she might change her mind about the extravagant gift, Jiran pocketed the treat and rushed off.

I can’t believe she gave me such high-tier food. I’ve never eaten anything above first tier before. I can’t wait to find out what it tastes like.

Unable to help himself, he reached into his satchel and tore off a small piece before greedily shoving it in his mouth. Flavors burst across his tongue as the powerful food crumbled. He swallowed and the mana-rich crumbs writhed as they slid down his throat. The moment it reached his stomach, it exploded into new strength that washed through his entire body, reinforcing his muscles, bones, and organs.

Weeks of effort were instantly rewarded as his body finally had enough density to grow.

So this is what Mother was talking about. High tier foods really are so much more potent. She’s exactly right, this feeling is impossible to describe.

After turning a corner, Jiran stopped running and moved to the side of the small street. Eagerly, he closed his eyes and a flush of excitement coursed through him as he saw the golden text of the Voice printed on the inside of his eyelids. He scanned through his newest notifications before checking his status.

Strength: + .4

Agility: + .6

Endurance: + .5

Durability: + .3

Wisdom: + .4

Intelligence: + .3

All requirements for tiering achieved

WARNING: Tiering will render unconsciousness

NAME: Jiran of Feylon

RACE: Human

AGE: 7

WEIGHT: 21.31 kg

STATUS: Healthy

TIER: 0

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

GROWTH: 96% > 100%

MANA: [Locked]

CONCENTRATION: [Locked]

STRENGTH: 9.6 > 10

AGILITY: 9.4 > 10

ENDURANCE: 9.5 > 10

DURABILITY: 9.7 > 10

WISDOM: 9.6 > 10

INTELLIGENCE: 9.7 > 10

I did it! I finally reached 100% growth and capped my attributes! I can tier up whenever I want! Though Mother would kill me if I didn’t wait for tonight.

Jiran did his best to calm his racing heart, but months of anticipation could not be denied so easily. His toes curled and he pumped his little fists as his body vibrated.

I can’t wait for tonight. I even get to be capped all day. This is going to be so much fun. Half a point in each attribute from a single bite. I’ll definitely repay you when I come back to the village and become a hunter, Elder Mireg.

A pushing sensation swelled inside him, like being deep underwater with lungs full of air. The ever-present pressure beneath his skin intensified into a tangible feeling as his body swelled in preparation to become something more: An ascender.

Suddenly, his exuberance was replaced by a sense of intense dread. The racing of his heart turned from a joyous celebration to the harrowing thrum of impending death. His eyes flew open and he cast his gaze around the street, searching for the beast whose jaws were surely about to close around his throat. When he found nothing, his fear eased slightly, yet an uneasy trepidation remained.

Did I eat too much density? Father warned me about the pressure of having full growth but he didn’t say anything about it being so scary. Jiran latched his satchel, mentally distancing himself from the treat within.

It was really delicious though. I’ll finish it after my tiering tonight.

He ran the rest of the way at full speed, legs pumping from a mixture of lingering fear and newfound strength from his freshly boosted attributes. His muscles were brimming with energy, and he quickly arrived at his uncle’s shop. Micah was already hard at work lining up empty barrels beside their only cart.

His uncle moved so quickly with his much higher attributes, that Jiran only caught a few glimpses of his muscular frame. As often happened upon seeing his formidable appearance, Jiran stopped and watched with awe and envy in his heart. Micah was easily one of the strongest people in the village at tier three. His time in the army had left him with impeccable posture and with naturally tall stature, wide shoulders, and piercing green eyes, he always stood out no matter where he went.

Fathers above, please let me grow up big and strong like uncle and not short like Father.

After his daily prayer, Jiran bade a quick and informal, “Morning Uncle!'' then made his way into the shop. He dropped his satchel in the corner, then moved to Micah’s side and began stacking barrels on the rapidly growing pile.

Soon, First Mother’s pale light crested the horizon, marking the start of the day for most of the village. As her cerulean grace mingled with First Father’s scarlet, the sky turned a light shade of purple.

The streets gradually filled with villagers going about their business. Some made their way to the pier while a few brave souls prepared to forage the outermost edges of the forest. The vast majority hefted tools to fields inside the imposing walls—which had been constructed by imperial engineers back when the village was founded.

“Well, kiddo, I suppose congratulations are in order. You survived all seven seasons. Tonight, you’ll officially be a year old. I hope you’re ready for your tiering. I know I’ll certainly enjoy putting more work on your shoulders,” Micah’s smile was gentle and his eyes twinkled with shared excitement.

Affection and gratitude bloomed in Jiran’s heart that Micah always took the time to slow his speech down just for him.

“Have you thought about your vow of service?”

“Yes Uncle, I decided I want to serve the full year. Then, when I come back, I’ll be able to contribute more.” Jiran paused to gather his thoughts. “I know that’s what everyone says before they join the army, but I really mean it! I feel like I owe so much to the village. I want to be strong enough when I return to bring us all up a tier. I want to help everyone, especially you, Mother, and Father.”

Micah let out a long sigh, then fondly rested his hand on Jiran’s shoulder. “Coming back isn’t that easy, though I respect your decision. Once you’re out of here, you’ll see that there are many opportunities in the Empire. If you change your mind, nobody here would blame you. Just don’t give up on whatever you decide to do once the time comes.”

“I won’t! I’ve already made up my mind, so that’s what I’m going to do,” Jiran spoke with the conviction only a child could have toward the uncertainty of the distant future.

“Enough lazing about, we’ve got a full day ahead of us,” Micah’s gentle chiding was met with Jiran’s bobbing head as they got back to work.

Soon, Second Father’s yellow light joined First Father and First Mother in the heavens. The three suns’ rays blended beautifully and filled the cloudless sky with shimmering waves of violet and emerald. Jiran helped Micah with the barrels, meticulously cataloging and stacking them neatly in the wagon before they set out towards the village’s growing fields.

Jiran pulled the wagon by himself, excited at how much easier the task was after his sudden increase in attributes. He imagined how strong he would be after tonight, his dream of becoming as big as Uncle Micah felt closer with every step. His steady march brought the fields into view where more than half the village was working diligently under the brilliant sky.

A single planter placed a seed into the ground while two stood behind providing water. Groups of five then held out their hands, eyes focused, mumbling the words to their growth castings. The plants grew quickly, turning from seedling, to stalk, to budding, and finally to harvestable within the span of a few seconds under their mana-fueled ministrations.

As the growers moved to the next seedling, the harvesters came and collected the crop to be carted off to a pile near the road. All the while, members from each group swapped out to give others a break from the strenuous casting.

Jiran stopped the wagon near the processed goods, his eyes locked on the growers' glowing hands. Micah gave him a moment to daydream before a gentle clearing of the throat snapped Jiran back to the work at hand—a slight flush heating his cheeks. He jumped to action, stuffing barrels as Micah slowly ran his fingers along the seam of the wooden lids. As his finger passed over the small gap between lid and barrel, the gap vanished, leaving a fully sealed cask ready for transport.

Jiran watched Micah work out of the corner of his eye. As he thought about what tomorrow would bring, his nervous excitement bubbled to the surface and his feet danced a jittery beat.

I can't wait to know what it's like to control my mana. Just a few more hours then I'll finally take the first step. I wonder if I’ll ever get an advanced technique like Uncle. Well, if he doesn’t teach me, I’m sure I’ll learn in the army like he did.

Despite Jiran’s lack of focus, they worked efficiently and were soon on their way to the granaries. There, the produce would be stored for the coming densoon season. Jiran was too young to remember last year’s densoons. The stories about it were nothing but death and sadness and Jiran was dreading it.

After they stored the produce, they made their way back to the shop. By the time they returned, First Mother was at her zenith. Her eternal hunt to catch First Father in the sky was no closer than Jiran had ever seen.

Despite the hard morning’s work, Jiran was still brimming with energy, ready to take on his midday tasks. Just as he was about to dig through the daily deliveries, the sound of a horn blasted through the village. The long keening note was followed by a second, then a third. As he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a fourth horn sounded.

Jiran’s breath caught, his heart froze, and every muscle in his body contracted. Stress rolled through him in waves that raised the hairs on his arms as he met Micah’s wide eyes.

Their thoughts were one: Four horns, fourth tier!

They had both stopped, momentarily frozen with indecision. A scream ripped through the air, and the spell was broken. Uncle and nephew broke into a sprint, though heading in opposite directions. Jiran ran toward the scream, which had come from the nearest segment of the wall. In the opposite direction, Micah’s form turned to a blur that stretched between his shop and his nearby home.

Anticipation built in Jiran with each pump of his legs. His lungs burned from the effort of his headlong sprint as the nearby sentry tower blossomed before him. He knew it would offer the best view of the upcoming battle.

His heart was full of dread at the thought that his entire village might die in mere moments, though his feet never faltered. Currently, Skandor was the only tier four hunter in the village. If he lost, there wouldn’t be a single person who could stand up to the beast. Jiran would witness what was to come. If these were his last moments on Madra’s soil, he refused to spend them hiding in fear.

He sent a silent prayer to the Fathers that his family would have a quick and painless end if the worst came to pass. Then he pushed the thoughts down with a snarl as the sound of explosions reached his ears. He wasted no time climbing up the scaffolding of the tower to peek over the earthen rampart.

When his eyes landed on the beast, he knew they were all going to die.