13.12.590 AF (+8 Days)
[Walter]
Over the past week, I immersed myself in every manuscript I could find about the former empire and the Valonians, determined to uncover every detail. I entrusted the management entirely to Frederick—not that I had been particularly involved anyway—and dedicated myself solely to this research. My only break from the relentless reading was stepping out of my chamber for a couple of hours each day to practice magic with Lukas, ensuring I maintained my skills amidst the intense study.
I encountered various materials spanning different timelines and painstakingly worked to piece them together in their proper order to establish the correct chronology. After a week of dedicated effort, I finally succeeded in assembling everything, and suddenly, many aspects that had once been unclear now made perfect sense.
Avalon was born in a small, humble town, the son of a farm laborer. His early years were filled with hardship, as his father, a hardworking man, was tragically taken from their family by the new republic's ruthless moneylenders. This event set the course for Avalon's future, and with a burning desire for revenge and a thirst for something greater, he turned to swordsmanship as his means of escape.
Under the tutelage of the renowned swordmaster Xenver, Avalon's skills flourished. By the age of 18, after years of rigorous training, he had honed his craft enough to venture into the republic's bustling capital, Belaris. It was here, amidst the city's political turmoil and the promises of wealth, that Avalon began his mercenary career, offering his blade to the highest bidder.
For the next four years, Avalon worked tirelessly as a mercenary, amassing small fortunes from each contract. By the age of 22, he had accumulated enough wealth to form his own mercenary band. He named it the "Valon Band," and through his shrewd management, Avalon ensured that his soldiers received a small cut from each contract while keeping the majority of the riches for himself. It was the beginning of a legacy that would soon echo across the continent.
In the next seven years, Avalon's fortunes multiplied at an astonishing rate. By the time he was just 29, he had become one of the wealthiest men alive, his coffers brimming with millions of gold coins. His wealth, his power, and his influence made him the envy of many. Yet Avalon remained focused, never resting on his laurels.
At the height of his success, Avalon saw the dangers of putting too much power into one's hands. He divided and sold his lucrative escort business to thirty different merchants, making sure that no single person could control his vast network. Despite this, he still walked away with tens of millions of gold coins—more than enough to fund his next ambitious venture.
With a quarter of his wealth, Avalon purchased several quiet countryside villages, using them as secret recruitment and training grounds. Over the next few years, he raised a formidable private army—tens of thousands of elite mercenaries and countless loyal conscripts drawn to his banner by coin, vision, or fear.
By the time he marched on the republic, Avalon commanded a force the world had never seen—some say over a hundred thousand strong, others whisper a million. Whatever the truth, the republic fell swiftly to his overwhelming might.
But Avalon's ambitions did not end there. His conquest spread like wildfire, consuming neighboring kingdoms and territories, each of them falling one by one under his iron fist. As the years passed, Avalon's power only grew, and the world seemed to bend to his will.
In the year 0, after decades of bloodshed and conquest, Avalon's campaign finally reached its zenith. He stood victorious, having conquered the known world. From the ashes of the old republic and its shattered kingdoms rose a new empire—the grand empire of Avalonia. And at its helm, the dynasty of Avalon, now known as the "Valonia" dynasty, would reign for generations to come.
For centuries, the Avalonian Empire flourished under the rule of Avalon's descendants. They governed with wisdom and benevolence, fostering peace and prosperity throughout the realm. Under their guidance, the empire expanded its borders, spreading its influence far and wide. However, by the time the year 558 AF dawned, the Avalonian Empire stood on the brink of collapse. The last scion of the Valonia dynasty, a young boy-king named Aurelius Valonia, ascended to the throne amidst growing internal strife and external threats. Despite the efforts of his advisors and guardians, Aurelius proved to be an inexperienced and ineffectual ruler, unable to stem the tide of discontent and rebellion that swept across the empire. Tragically, Aurelius's reign came to a premature end when he succumbed to a mysterious illness in 561 AF, leaving the empire without a clear heir to the throne. His untimely demise plunged the Avalonian Empire into chaos, as rival factions vied for control and power.
This is the tale of the greatest dynasty the world has ever known—a lineage of power and legacy. According to the system and other evidence, I am the last scion of this dynasty, though no one else knows. Avalon, the dynasty's founder, wielded Fire Magic, a gift passed down to his descendants. While the talent diminished over generations, it remained formidable enough to sustain an empire for over five centuries. Avalon himself lived an extraordinary life, dying in 81 AF at the age of 118. Remarkably, he appeared no older than a man in his early sixties at the time of his death—a testament to the incredible power of Arcana. His legacy and magical prowess stand as a beacon of strength, shaping the very foundation of this empire's history.
Over the past week, Lukas took the time to teach me a few basic non-elemental spells.
Skill
Proficiency
Blood of Avalon (Inferior)
1.9%
Arcana Sense
25.9%
Arcana Manipulation
4.1%
Arcana manipulation forms the foundation of all magic, enabling one to channel and control the arcana within their body at will—a vital skill before delving into elemental magic. Over the past week, my "Arcana Sense" has developed, though whether at a good rate or not is hard to judge. With no one to compare my progress to, I'll choose to believe I'm doing well. In fact, compared to the Inferior Blood of Avalon, I'd say I'm making remarkable strides. The bloodline's improvement has been modest, growing by only 0.3% during this time. Interestingly, I noticed it advances when I immerse myself in research about Avalon and his dynasty, as though understanding his legacy somehow strengthens my connection to arcana. Practicing Arcana manipulation for extended periods also yields slow but steady growth. For now, I'll continue what I've been doing and trust that persistence will pay off.
I rose from my seat and made my way to the training ground, where Lukas was already waiting, clad in his signature azure robe. His expression brightened as he greeted me.
"You'll be glad to hear that, starting today, we can begin your elemental training," he announced with a satisfied smile.
"Wait, really?" I exclaimed, unable to contain my excitement.
"Indeed. I've acquired a one-core spell: Spark."
"Spark? What does it do?"
"It creates a small flame, similar to lighting a match. It's useful for lighting candles, torches, or starting a fire."
"That's it?" I asked, my enthusiasm dimming. "That sounds pretty weak."
"Baby steps, Walter. You can't build a fire without a spark," he replied, undeterred.
I sighed, then nodded. "Alright. Let's get started."
Lukas pulled a thin spellbook from the folds of his robe. It was not in pristine condition, suggesting it had been bought second-hand. Considering the absence of a printing press, even regular books were costly; spellbooks, however, were exorbitantly priced.
"How much did this cost, Lukas?" I asked, curious about the water mage's generosity.
"Five silvers," he replied, his ever-present smile lighting up his face. "But don't worry about it. Consider it a gift to commemorate your journey as a mage."
"Thank you," I murmured, genuinely moved by his kindness.
Lukas' wages as a mage were modest at best—twenty coppers a day during peaceful times, doubling only in times of conflict. To spend over a fortnight's earnings on me was no small gesture. The thought of his sacrifice left a deep impression on me. I silently vowed to remember this act of generosity and find a way to repay him someday.
For the next hour, Lukas and I delved into the spellbook. He patiently explained the concepts I struggled with, breaking them down until I could grasp them fully. I practiced diligently, repeating the steps until everything clicked into place. By the end of the session, a window suddenly appeared in front of me, signaling that something had changed.
You have gained a skill, Spark!
A smile crept across my face as I focused, raising my hand. I spoke the incantation clearly, "Ignis minor!" A small spark appeared on the tip of my index finger, flickering for a few seconds before vanishing. It was a success.
Lukas raised an eyebrow in surprise. "That was pretty fast. Most novices take at least five to six hours to learn their first elemental spell. But you—well, regardless, good job!" He gave me a congratulatory pat on the shoulder before heading back to the keep.
I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as I opened my skill panel. There, I saw "Spark" listed with a proficiency of 5%. It would take time to master, but it was a good start. Curious, I decided to check my status window as well, wondering what other changes had occurred with my newfound ability.
Name
Walter Carnell
STRENGTH
5
Level
2
VITALITY
4
Health
90/90
CORE
1.08
Arcana
103/108
Free Points
4
Age
10
Shop Points
0
Title
Master of Cardhan
Skills
[OPEN]
I observed a reduction of five Arcana after using the Spark, which led me to the conclusion that each use of the spell consumed 5 Arcana. Sometime over the past week, I had also leveled up. Each level granted me two free points, which I decided to save for now, considering that future leveling might be more challenging.
With a sense of accomplishment, I closed the panels and allowed myself a satisfied smile. I then turned and walked back toward the keep, to get some rest.
On my way to the chamber, I decided to check in with Frederick. He has been managing the village with minimal assistance, and it's important to ensure that his efforts are effective and the village is running smoothly.
I stopped at the chamber of the courtiers and gave a couple of gentle knocks. Before long, Frederick opened the door. He was dressed in his usual winter jerkin layered over a simple tunic, a practical choice that blended into the season's chill. His expression, however, betrayed his surprise at my arrival. Considering I hadn't shown myself in over a week, his reaction was hardly unexpected.
I approached the courtiers' chamber and gave a few sharp knocks on the door. Moments later, Frederick opened it, his eyes widening slightly when he saw me standing there. He was dressed in his usual winter jerkin over a simple tunic—nothing that would stand out, but his surprise at my sudden appearance was evident.
"Ah, Frederick! I trust the keep hasn't fallen into ruin in my absence?"
The sternness that usually marked Frederick's expression faded, replaced by a smile. "Far from it, Master. Though I was starting to think you'd decided to remain hidden in your chamber until your majority."
I walked past him and took a seat at the table, flashing him a grin. "Not permanent, but close enough! Magic is... consuming, and the books Lukas gave me are endless. But enough about me. How are things running around here? Everything going smoothly?"
Frederick leaned against the desk, arms crossed, his smile a little less guarded. "You've been preparing yourself, which is important, no doubt. But your presence has been missed—especially by the villagers. They're looking for reassurance as they adjust to this change in leadership."
I glanced at the papers scattered across the desk, noting the many tasks that seemed to keep him busy. "And how have things been? Any real trouble under my reign?"
"Not trouble," Frederick said with a slight shrug, his tone almost dismissive. "More like... adjustments. The previous castellan's rule is still fresh in everyone's minds. While they respect you, they're watching closely. Some still wonder if a boy can truly lead—if I'm being blunt."
"And what do you tell them?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"That you have wisdom beyond your years, and you'll be a steady hand on the helm," Frederick replied with a smirk, though there was a note of genuine respect beneath his words. "It's my job to support you, and I believe you'll make a fine ruler."
I let out a breath, relieved. "Good. Anything else I should be aware of?"
"The blacksmith's been asking for more iron for the repairs around the village. We'll need to get it from the nearest town, though." Frederick paused, his gaze settling on mine. "I wanted your approval before sending for it."
I leaned forward, my fingers brushing the edge of the desk. "We need those repairs before winter gets worse. Send for the iron, but make sure we're not paying too much. Anything else on your mind?"
"The villagers would appreciate seeing you more often," Frederick said with a wry smile. "A walk through the market or overseeing repairs would remind them you care about their well-being."
I chuckled, sensing the subtle reprimand. "A not-so-subtle hint that I've been too absent, is it?"
Frederick simply gave a slight nod, his expression neutral. "You know they need to see you in action. It's part of the role."
I leaned back in my chair, a grin spreading across my face. "Alright, you're right. I'll make time tomorrow for a walk through the village."
Frederick nodded with a satisfied smile, the usual edge in his voice softened by his respect. "I'll keep you updated on anything else that arises."
"Good. I trust you'll handle things in my absence, as always," I said as I stood, brushing off my tunic. "I'll check in with you again soon."
With a final nod, I left the room, my mind already on tomorrow's visit to the village.