Jordan began speaking again, his tone carrying an air of authority and gravity that commanded everyone's attention. "The Sword Clan and the Magus Tower have always been at war," he declared. "The Magus Tower is home to countless magicians who wield the power of mana, while the Sword Clan boasts skilled swordsmen, ninjas, and samurais who rely on aura to fight."
The villagers listened intently, their eyes fixed on Jordan. For most of them, this was their first real glimpse into the broader world beyond their village.
Being isolated, the villagers rarely left their home, and their knowledge of the outside world was limited to what traders or messengers shared.
Jordan's words painted a vivid picture of a conflict that felt almost mythical to them.
Jordan paused for a moment, observing the awe and curiosity etched on the villagers' faces. He continued, "Yes, it's true. Throughout history, many battles have been fought between the Magus Tower and the Sword Clan. However, these wars rarely reached this village, which is why many of you may not have experienced their impact firsthand."
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some of the older villagers nodded knowingly, recalling tales of past wars.
For the younger generation, this was all new and almost incomprehensible. They exchanged uneasy glances, trying to process the weight of what they were hearing.
Jordan's voice grew more serious. "The magicians of the Magus Tower use mana as their source of power, while the swordsmen of the Sword Clan channel aura. These two forces are diametrically opposed, and that is why they are eternal enemies. Many wars have erupted between them over the centuries."
The villagers were visibly unsettled. The realization of such a long-standing enmity, stretching back generations, left them questioning the fragile peace they had always taken for granted. Jordan, seeing their reactions, pressed on.
Jordan's gaze swept over the crowd, and he resumed, "Every hundred years, both the Magus Tower and the Sword Clan see the emergence of a Chosen One. These individuals are selected not by men but by nature itself."
Hearing this, the villagers' eyes instinctively turned toward Adam, who lay unconscious with his head resting on his mother Rachel's lap.
Rachel gently stroked his hair, her face a mix of worry and tenderness. Beside her, Sophia sat quietly, holding Adam's hand as if her touch could somehow shield him from the weight of Jordan's revelations.
The villagers whispered among themselves, their attention shifting back and forth between Adam and Jordan. The atmosphere was thick with tension and curiosity. Jordan, unfazed, continued his explanation.
"There is a fundamental difference between ordinary magicians or swordsmen and the Chosen Ones. A magician must study and master mana to cast their spells, but a Chosen One is born with their power. Nature herself chooses them, granting them immense strength beyond anything a regular magician or swordsman can achieve."
The villagers were both fascinated and confused. Questions swirled in their minds, but they hesitated to speak, their thoughts too scattered to form coherent queries. Jordan's words had planted a seed of intrigue, and the villagers could feel the weight of his revelations settling over them.
Among the villagers stood the village chief, Sam, a man known for his wisdom and calm demeanor. He raised his hand, signaling for silence.
The crowd quickly fell quiet, eager to hear his thoughts. Sam looked directly at Jordan and asked, "Sir Jordan, are you saying that Adam has already become a magician?"
Jordan turned his attention to Adam, then back to Sam. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face as he replied, "That is what troubles me the most. Whenever a Chosen One appears, they are always accompanied by another—a magician and a swordsman. Two Chosen Ones are born to this world, each representing their respective powers."
The villagers were stunned. The idea of two Chosen Ones, one for mana and one for aura, was both thrilling and alarming. Murmurs of disbelief and speculation spread like wildfire through the crowd.
George, one of the younger and more curious villagers, couldn't contain his excitement. He stepped forward and asked eagerly, "Does this mean that if Adam is the Magician Chosen One, then somewhere in the world, the Swordsman Chosen One has also appeared?"
Jordan turned to George, his expression thoughtful. He nodded slightly and said, "That is what the rules suggest. However.....?."
His words left the villagers in stunned silence. The weight of the possibilities before them was overwhelming. The notion that their small, peaceful village could be connected to a grand, cosmic event of such magnitude was almost too much to bear.
Jordan's voice carried the weight of an undeniable truth as he addressed the crowd, his hands resting casually in the pockets of his dark traditional Japanese attire.
His white beard and hair, striking against the black fabric, gave him an aura of both wisdom and authority. The faint glint of his sword, hanging by his side, only added to his commanding presence.
"Let me reveal something," he began, pausing to let his words sink in. "Ten years ago, the Chosen One magician, Fenri, appeared. And alongside him, the Sword Clan's Chosen One, Hilmya, also came into existence."
The villagers froze. Their shock was palpable. How could there be another Chosen One? For as long as anyone could remember, history only recorded the emergence of a single Chosen One every hundred years.
Sam, the village chief, was the first to gather his thoughts. He took a step forward, his voice trembling slightly with curiosity. "Sir Jordan," he began cautiously, "could it be possible that Adam is a second Chosen One?"
Jordan shook his head firmly, his expression unyielding. "Impossible. In the entire history of mankind, there has never been a second Chosen One within such a short period. What we are witnessing now is highly unusual."
His words sent ripples of unease through the crowd. Villagers exchanged anxious glances, their murmurs blending with the rustling of the trees.
The weight of Jordan's statement pressed on them like a heavy fog. Meanwhile, Rachel and Sophia sat quietly by Adam, who remained unconscious in Rachel's lap. Both women stared at the boy, their faces marked by worry and helplessness.
Summoning her courage, Rachel broke the silence. Her voice trembled, yet there was an unshakable resolve in her words. "I don't care if my son is The Chosen One or not," she said, each word clear and firm. "What matters to me is that he is my child."
Sophia, seated beside her, clutched Adam's hand a little tighter. Though she didn't say anything, her gesture mirrored Rachel's sentiment.
Jordan's stern expression softened briefly, a faint smile touching his lips. But he didn't let the moment linger. "Have you forgotten what I said earlier?" he asked, his tone measured yet grave.
Rachel and Ricky exchanged anxious glances as they recalled Jordan's earlier warning. The memory of his foreboding words now felt heavier than ever.
Ricky stepped forward, his voice thick with both regret and urgency. "Sir Jordan," he began, bowing his head slightly, "I'm sorry for speaking rudely earlier, but please, can you explain why you said my son can't live an ordinary life?"
Jordan's gaze turned serious as he looked directly at Ricky and Rachel. His voice dropped, carrying the weight of a terrible truth. "Because now," he said deliberately, "both the Sword Clan and Magus Tower will come after your son. And I cannot guarantee what they will do to him."
Jordan's statement sent a wave of dread through the villagers. The weight of his words settled over them like a dark cloud.
Fear flickered in every pair of eyes as they turned to Adam, still lying unconscious in Rachel's lap. Sam clenched his fists, his gaze burning with silent frustration.
"Poor Adam," he thought bitterly. "What did he do to deserve this?"
Before anyone could voice their concerns, Jordan's voice cut through the tense silence once again. His tone was grim. "And it's not just Adam they're after. The Sword Clan is already targeting all of you."
The crowd collectively gasped. Whispers of panic rippled through the villagers, their voices tinged with both fear and confusion.
Sam stepped forward again, his face pale and strained with worry. "Sir Jordan," he asked, his voice unsteady, "why? Why are they targeting us?"
Jordan's sharp gaze swept over the crowd. But before he could respond, a voice emerged from the back of the gathering. "Is it because of their men who were killed in the forest?"
Heads turned to locate the speaker. It was an older villager, his face lined with years of hardship. "Those men were from the Sword Clan, weren't they?"
Jordan nodded slowly, his expression somber. "It's not about logic," he replied, his tone sharp and cutting. "You can never reason with the Sword Clan. If they've decided to eliminate you, they will do so—whether today or tomorrow. Their decision is final."
His words crushed any lingering hope the villagers might have held. Anxiety and helplessness filled the air as they realized their defenses were no match for the might of the Sword Clan.
Sam, his face etched with worry, turned to Jordan. "Lord Jordan," he said, his voice trembling with desperation, "you're an elder of the Sword Clan yourself. Can't you stop them?"
The villagers held their breath, their collective gaze fixed on Jordan. For the first time, a glimmer of hope sparked amidst the despair.
But Jordan remained silent, his piercing eyes fixed on the horizon. The weight of his unspoken response was almost unbearable. When he finally looked back at Sam, his expression revealed nothing.
The villagers' hope wavered as they waited for an answer that would never come. The chapter ended, leaving the crowd suspended in a state of uncertainty and fear.
Jordan stood silently, his gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of the villagers' despair seemed to press down on him.
Slowly, he raised his head, his voice calm but heavy with emotion, "I am sorry. It is impossible for me to help in the way you ask. I left the Sword Clan many years ago. I now live hidden beyond the mountains you see from this village."
The villagers were stunned, exchanging bewildered glances. His words carried the weight of a revelation they had never expected.
How could someone who was once part of such a powerful organization live in seclusion in the dangerous forest? A place so deadly that only the most skilled warriors dared to tread? For anyone less, entering these forests was a certain death sentence.
The tense silence lingered for a moment, broken only by the whispers of the wind rustling through the surrounding trees.
Ricky, his face etched with worry and desperation, stepped forward. "Sir Jordan," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "what should we do now? Such a massive threat has fallen on my child and this village. We have no way to defend ourselves against such powerful forces."
Jordan turned his gaze toward Ricky, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and solemnity.
Slowly, he nodded, acknowledging the gravity of Ricky's plea. "That is why," he said, his voice steady but resolute, "I will give you a choice."
The weight of his words rippled through the crowd, stirring a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Villagers whispered among themselves, their voices hushed yet filled with anticipation. A choice from someone like Jordan was no small matter.
Sam, the village chief, stepped forward, his shoulders squared with resolve. "Lord Jordan, whatever you say, we are ready to do it. Just save this village."
The murmurs of agreement grew louder as the villagers nodded in unison, their collective resolve clear in their faces. They were willing to do whatever it took to protect their home.
However, amidst the hopeful murmurs, Sophia sit silently at the edge of the gathering. Her gaze flickered between her father, Sam, and the unconscious Adam, cradled in Rachel's lap.
A storm of conflicting emotions brewed within her. She couldn't shake the feeling that her father was prioritizing the village over adam's well-being. Yet, she bit her lip and remained silent, knowing that her feelings couldn't change the reality of their situation.
Jordan observed the villagers' eagerness, his sharp gaze briefly resting on Sophia before returning to Sam. With measured calm, he finally spoke, "Very well. Here is my condition."
Jordan's deep, commanding voice carried across the gathered villagers as he explained, "I will take this boy with me—into the forest, beyond the mountains. There, I will train him. I will teach him everything I know. While I may not know much about magic, I can teach him the way of the sword and the art of combat. If he truly is a Chosen One, selected by nature for magic, then he won't need much instruction in that regard. But I will ensure that he becomes a strong warrior."
The crowd fell silent, the weight of his words settling heavily upon them. All eyes turned toward Adam, who still lay unconscious in Rachel's lap.
The boy, who appeared so fragile in that moment, had become the focal point of a battle far greater than anyone could comprehend.
Rachel's face was a mixture of fear and sorrow, her maternal instincts urging her to hold her son tighter, to shield him from the cruel reality unfolding around them.
Her trembling hands gently brushed Adam's hair as tears welled up in her eyes. But before she could voice her fears, Ricky stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder.
He met her gaze, his own eyes heavy with emotion but filled with quiet determination. "I believe," he said softly, yet firmly, "we have no other choice."
Rachel's shoulders sagged slightly as she let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling protectively around Adam's arm. Her silence was her reluctant agreement.
Jordan nodded, his tone growing more serious as he continued, "While I train this boy, I will also protect your village from the Sword Clan and the Magus Tower. But," he paused, his gaze sweeping across the gathered villagers, "my involvement will draw even greater attention to your village. The threat to its security will grow."
His final words were like the tolling of a bell, signaling the gravity of what lay ahead. The villagers exchanged worried glances, their expressions a mix of fear and resignation.
The once-bustling crowd was now subdued, their collective silence filled with the unspoken weight of the choice they had made.
Jordan stood firm, his presence unwavering amidst the growing storm of uncertainty that gripped the village.
As the villagers wrestled with the magnitude of the situation, his grave statement marked the chapter's conclusion, leaving all who were present with a profound sense of unease and resolve.