AUTHOR POV
The night shroud isn't silent this time, the fire burned tents, the scream of men getting pierced, and slashed by the soldiers, who made their way to the village, killing every man and old woman on sight . The final line of defense fell a few hours ago, no soldier was alive, yet the invaders kept the children alive along with young girls.
Yacha witnessed all this, his mind is shattered, he saw innocent villagers getting wiped out one after another, he rushed to a soldier angry. Eyes full of tears screaming his lungs out; he grabbed a sharp tool, and stabbed the lower back of a merciless killer, who just finished slaughtering his parents, in front of his eyes.
Crimson red armor with black strips and helmets showing only their facial features; vambrace and gauntlets covered with spikes darker than black. Those are the Akkadian kingdom invaders, soldiers, their orders are simple: "kill everyone in your sight but children and young female human beings, capture them alive and bring them ".
The land, the villages, and the forest are a battlefield, to those blood thirsty, walking killing machines.
A back-kick sent Yacha flying, and another soldier grabbed him, roughly hit him to his neck, putting him to sleep, they carried him to a nearby cargo.
Those soldiers only obey and carry on the order set to them by their ruler, Sargon the Akkadian, the ruler blessed by the god Anu of the polytheist faith, to rule this land.
Back at an island isolated in the south ocean of Akkadia's territory, a military orphanage where those captured children have to go through a process, stripping them of their origins and their free will,they've been asked one question only.
"What is your name ?"
A spell casted on them erasing the memories of their loved ones, and their homes.
The strong effect of the spell put them to sleep. They wake up in a room built from stones, having no idea who they are, or where they came from, only a tag around their neck with their names.
Yacha, even though his memories are wiped, deep down he held to some of those memories. After witnessing the genocide of his people, he's traumatized beyond repair, perhaps in his case, forgetting what had happened was the best option.
"Welcome young pawns! futures of our country's strongest soldiers, allow me to welcome you, to your home." Said Hadleigh, the commander responsible for training those children.
They filled their heads with promises of glory, and the honor of being a soldier.
After testing their attributes, and examining their mana pool, they get organized in groups, for proper training, but still magic isn't something everyone can master. Everyone can use magic, it's born talent, and hard training can give you an edge.
After years of hellish training and brainwashing ideologies,
Yacha, along with Usrang, are at the top of their class, their weapon mastery is bronze, and their magic mastery is second tier, making them few steps stronger than the orphans.
You see, magic tiers define your mana pool and the amount of spells you can use.
The first tier is the lowest, the user at is the bottom.
The second tier is slightly strong, but the user is the mid-low.
The third tier is mid-tier, putting the user at a decent level.
The fourth tier is where things become more interesting, where the user can use precise spells with different types at the same time.
The fifth tier is the top tier, where the user can use strong spells and have multiple attributes.
The sixth tier is where the attribute control is complete.
Yet there is a tier, few can reach this tier. A level where the user has magical powers unique enough to a point where he can use abnormal magic.
While weapon mastery is a different category.
Iron tier, which is the lowest
-Bronze tier where a fighter can handle two different types of weapons
Silver is a level where a fighter can take on four bronze tiers with no problems.
- gold tier where a fighter can use multiple weapons with precision
The Orichalcum tier is the top tier where a fighter and the weapon become one, and it's the tier that defines the dedication of a fighter to their skills.
YACHA POV.
As I heard those words—congratulations, young children, you passed—my thoughts went blank, the others and their happiness was over the moon, repeating the words "We did it, We did it!!!"
Suddenly my wounded body felt heavy, and my upper eyelid too, I can barely keep my eyes open, my vision slowly blurred, darkening. Ive lost lot of blood.
Memories began to flood my head. A woman was speaking to me, her lips moved, mumbled something, but I couldn't hear her. Neither i could see the upper part of her face, her body covered by a shadow. I heard the sound of a stab cleared the shroud around her. A light green dress decorated with pink flowers. Blood started to come out from her neck, wetting that beautiful dress, her head began to fall. Mid-air, she opened her eyes, when it fell to the ground, and rolled to my side. With a look of anger, grinning her teeth, she screamed at me, "RUN YACHA!!!".
Screams of agony tore my ears, mixed with the sound of stabbing and neighing.
All started to fade when I opened my eyes and lied down in bed. I recognized the temporary infirmary, a different outfit, hospital pajamas, yet not a single wound in my body. I guess the kingdom has capable healers here and there. I just paid attention to an elderly woman, a doctor, clad in a simple yet practical gown, meticulously sorting through scrolls and parchment. Her gray hair, tucked beneath a faded cap, frames a face etched with lines of experience and compassion. A flickering light casted shadows as she read the handwritten notes, her gnarled fingers delicately traced the words. Around her, the faint sounds of my movements and the smell of my sweat fill the air, yet her focus remained unwavering. I interrupted that focus. "Excuse me, lady? Hello?", Her focused expression melts into a warm smile, her eyes sparkled with understanding. The gentle lines on her face reflect both patience and a lifetime of compassion.
"My bad young man I didn't pay attention, but you woke up." She walked toward me.
"How are we feeling today?"
"How long have I been asleep, miss?"
"Althea, young man, my name is Althea. You've been asleep for four days."
As I slowly regained awareness, I murmured, "What happened?" My voice trembled with disbelief, my eyes darted around the tent, searching for familiar faces amidst the chaos of my disorientation. Yet not a single soul was here.
the old lady who dressed herself as Althea.
"You lost a lot of blood, Yacha, that's your name, right?" I nodded, yes.
"Remain assured, my boy, you were in good hands." She said, walking me towards outside the tent.
Emerging from the tent, I stood for a moment, soaked in the warmth of the sun. Fully healed, I felt strength coursing through my limbs, each step a testament to my resilience. The vibrant colors of the world around me sparked a sense of wonder and gratitude. With a smile spreading across my face, i breathed in the fresh air, a brief sense of freedom. My three friends rushed forward, their faces alight with joy and relief. "We thought we'd lost you!" Ursang exclaimed, the three of them enveloped me in a tight embrace. Laughter mingled with tears as they pulled back, disbelief transformed into celebration. They clapped me on the back, their voices a chorus of encouragement, grateful to see me standing strong once more.
The soldier approached with a stoic expression, his voice steady and commanding. "Follow me to the squadron commander's tent," he ordered, maintaining a blank face that brooked no argument.
"They're waiting for you."
Without hesitation, we complied, following his orders. As we walked, Eline turned to me, a grin breaking the seriousness of the moment.
"We all passed the test," she said, excitement bubbling in her voice."The three of us have been waiting for you to wake up so we can find out which battalion we're assigned to."
Our shared anticipation filled the air. With a playful smirk, Ursang elbowed me and said, "Spiera cried, you know? She thought you would die."
Rolling her eyes, Speira shot back, "As if any of you could keep up with me," before playfully nudging him aside as she marched ahead. Ursang and Eline burst into laughter.
Eline teasing, "Guess we know who the real leader is now!"
while Ursang added, "We might need to train just to keep up!"
The four of us stood behind the soldier, the same expression on his face: "Squadron commander Orcham. The four you asked for are here, sir!" with a calm and steady voice.
The squadron commander calls out from within the tent:
"Enter."