Training at Asgard:
The morning sun shone through the heavy curtains, painting faint patterns on the stone walls of the suite. The children had just finished their breakfast, their plates empty and faces bright with anticipation. Alifa stood by the door, as her eyes scanned the trio with a mix of sternness and encouragement.
“Alright, you three,” Alifa’s voice cut through the hum of the early day, “It’s time for your training.”
Hera interjected “Wait, Alifa. We should update their status. It’s been a week since the last assessment.”
Zeus, his coffee mug in hand, spoke “True. Now would be a good time to do that.”
Alifa’s eyes flicked back to the children, their faces showing a mix of curiosity and impatience. “Very well. We’ll update your status and then proceed with your training. You can wait for me in the training yard.”
The children’s faces lit up with renewed excitement. Zeus and Hera where quick to update the children’s staus at which point the adults decided to discuss the developments. The children quickly gathered their belonging sand scrambled towards the door.
Adult gathering:
The adults sat in the quiet aftermath of breakfast; the table now clear except for the scattered status sheets that lay on the table. The soft rustle of parchment and the occasional clink of a cup being set down were the only sounds breaking the silence.
Zald spoke first; “So, how are the children doing?”
Zeus, absorbed in the numbers before him, let out a low, discontented grunt. “Hmph. It’s absolutely ludicrous to see this kind of growth in only two months. In Orario they would be considered prodigies. Outside of Orario these results should be impossible.”
Zeus’s disbelief was tempered by an unmistakable edge of pride. The figures on the sheets were more than mere numbers; they were a testament to the children’s rapid progress, a development that defied their grandparents’ initial expectations.
Bell Cranel Status
Human
Age: 8
Level 1
Strength: S-994 -> SS-1003
Endurance: SS-1010 -> SS-1050
Dexterity: S-975 -> S-998
Agility: SS-1035 -> SS-1055
Magic: S-985 -> SS-1005
Magic:
[Satanas Version] (Inherited)
User sends out waves of Sound towards the enemy
Skills:
[Realis Phrase-Crystallization of Desires]
As long as owner has a strong desire and goal, he will grow stronger according to his desires
[Inheritance of Talent]
User has monstrous will and desire of wanting to surpass the Incarnation of Talent herself.
[Twin's Bond]
Grants the user the ability to utilize the same skill and abilities as their sibling
Alice Cranel Status
Human
Age: 8
Lvl 1
Strength: S - 969 -> S - 987
Endurance: S -980 -> SS - 1000
Dexterity: S-990 -> SS -1020
Agility: SS - 1007-> SS - 1037
Magic: SS -1000 -> SS - 1025
Magic:
[Corpus Sanum](Mutated Inheritance)
Suppression of physical symptoms of illness, status aliments, and physical attacks so long as armor is active.
Quick chant: Ataraxia
Skills:
[Bonds of Family-Crystallization of Desires]
As long as owner has a strong desire and goal, she will grow stronger according to her desires.
[Inheritance of Talent]
User has monstrous will and desire of wanting to surpass the Incarnation of Talent herself.
[Twin's Bond]
Grants the user the ability to utilize the same skill and abilities as their sibling.
Anakitty Autumn
Demi-Human Cat Person
Age: 9
Lvl 1
Strength: SS -1045 -> SS - 1080
Endurance: SS -1006 -> SS - 1026
Dexterity: SS -1040 -> SS - 1057
Agility: S -980 -> S – 996
Magic: I-0
Magic:
Skills:
Guardianship Presence
Exponential status growth when seeking to defend family. Or in the face of what the user has deemed to be evil.
Hera’s gaze shifted from the papers to her companions, and a brief smile touched her lips. “The results are impressive. They’ve adapted quicker than we anticipated. It seems their potential is far greater than we’d thought. They’ll need a feat to rank up soon. We have confirmed that they can break well past the limit of S. However, even their growth has started to slow somewhat. They are now only gaining around fifty to a hundred points a week, even with your training, Alfia. It’s likely they’re reaching the limit of what their skills can do.”
Alfia nodded, her eyes narrowing as she considered the implications. “We’ll need to adjust their training schedule. With this kind of advancement, sticking to the original plan might hinder their growth.”
The thought of pushing them harder wasn’t pleasant, but there was no room for hesitation. The world outside was merciless, and they needed to prepare the children for its demands.
Zald sighed, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful frown. “Agreed. The training must evolve with their progress. If we don’t keep up, they’ll start to become complacent.”
Hera’s voice cut through the tension. “We need to make sure their skills don’t come to light until they are much stronger. Otherwise, they’ll be hounded by every power-hungry deity under the sun.”
“Tch. As if I would let anyone have them,” Alfia muttered, the words more of a threat than a vow.
Zeus, sitting across the table with his fingers steepled in thought, finally broke the silence. “That means we’ll have to leave Asgard soon.”
“I had hoped they could stay here longer,” Alfia admitted, her voice tinged with frustration.
“There’s little that can be done about that,” Zeus replied, his tone weary but resigned. “Asgard was first settled a thousand years ago. Mortals have used it to repel the monsters from the Dragon Valley for at least that long. I believe there was a site here for several millennia, even before we deities descended. It had different names in those times.”
As the primary base of mortal races against the monsters of Dragon Valley, Asgard had once been the front line of defense against the monsters. Over time, as mortals pushed the creatures deeper into the valley and established new cities, Asgard had shifted from the first line of defense to the last. The world had moved on, leaving this once-strategic location a mere shadow of its former significance.Alfia’s mind wandered to the vast unknown beyond the Dragon Valley, the entrance to a world few dared to explore.
“How large is the area beyond the Dragon Valley?” she asked
Zeus leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Tough to say. I didn’t keep close track of those things. But if I had to guess, it’s about a quarter the size of the mainland continent.”
The enormity of the unexplored land weighed heavily on Alfia. “That much is still unexplored?” Her disbelief mirrored Zald, whose eyes blinked in surprise.
“I’m afraid so,” Hera said, her voice steady but tinged with concern. “With everything beyond the valley, there’s only so far mortals can push. The further you go from Yggdrasil and Mimir, the more dangerous it becomes. There are just too many monsters. And if you venture too far, you risk encountering IT.”
“Well, no use worrying about that now,” Hera said, pushing aside her unease. “We’ll make preparations to leave Asgard at the start of next month. That will give us a couple of weeks to arrange everything.”
Zeus nodded. “The country of Brune should be a good location. It’s situated more to the north of the central region of the continent. We should be able to find a suitable feat for them in the borderlands.”
“Yes, that should work nicely,” Hera agreed, her mind already shifting to logistics. “Brune is mostly peaceful, but it has several large and ancient forests. We’ll likely need to search through them, but there should be something.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Alfia’s resolve solidified. “Very well. I’ll inform the children during their training.”
The decision was made. They would leave Asgard, taking the twins to a place where they could continue their development. The adults rose from the table, their meeting concluded.
Training yard:
The training yard near the suite, where the children had been honing their skills in anticipation of Alfia’s arrival. As she stepped into the yard, the informal practice came to an immediate halt, replaced by a structured rigor that demanded their full attention.
Alfia began with Bell, her approach methodical and precise. She assessed his stance and technique, her gaze sharp and assessing. The wooden practice sword met Bell’s gut with a thud, sending him staggering back. The impact drove the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping and disoriented.
“Again,” Alfia commanded, her voice cutting through the pain and exhaustion that clouded Bell’s senses. “Faster this time.”
Bell fought to regain his composure. Sweat clung to his white hair, and his arms shook as he raised the sword once more. Without warning, Alfia lunged forward. Her speed was nearly impossible to track, her movements a blur. Bell braced himself, parrying with all his might. The clang of their swords rang out sharply, a constant reminder of the stakes at play in this grueling training session.
“Your stance is off,” Alfia remarked, her tone calm but firm despite the intensity of their clash. Her critique was delivered with s strike from Alfia’s fist hammered into is stomach, causing him to stumble and nearly collapse.
As Alfia’s relentless training continued, each movement a calculated test of Bell’s limits. She offered no respite, no easy moment of recovery. Each strike, each parry, was designed to push him beyond his current capabilities. Bell’s determination was tested with every breath, every swing of the sword.
When Alfia finally called for a halt, Bell was drenched in sweat, his muscles aching from the relentless training. His breathing was heavy, but there was a spark of defiance in his eyes. He had endured, and though exhausted, he stood ready for the next challenge.
Alice watched from the edge of the garden, her hands clasped tightly to her chest. Beside her, Aki’s black tail whished back and forth, her dark eyes locked on the duel with unblinking intensity.
“Quicker!” Alfia’s voice cut through the air, demanding more from Bell with a stern edge. Her focus was relentless, her eyes cold as she pushed him to his limits.
Bell’s sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging as his arms began to tire. The pain and fatigue mounted, but he forced himself to keep pace with Alfia’s unyielding speed. A sudden, sharp pain shot through his hand as he received a smack from the flat of Alfia’s blade and he cried out in surprise as he dropped his weapon.
“Enough,” Alfia said, her voice softening only slightly as she lowered her blade.
Alice and Aki remained perched on the nearby wall, their anticipation growing. Aki’s tail flicked with visible impatience, while Alice’s fingers twitched, eager to draw her own sword and join the training. Alfia had always insisted on perfecting each child’s individual skills before integrating them into group combat, a method she believed essential for developing effective coordination.
Bell glared at her, frustration and determination warring in his ruby eyes. He pushed her sword away and faced her once more, his chest heaving as he prepared for the next round. The fight was far from over, and he knew it. Every strike, every parry was a step toward a goal that seemed ever out of reach but was vital to their survival.
The training was harsh, but it was shaping him into something stronger, something capable of facing whatever lay ahead. Alice and Aki watched with growing respect and anticipation, their turn in the yard approaching. They understood the importance of this rigorous preparation. It was not just about improving their skills; it was about preparing them for the unknown challenges that awaited beyond the safety of Asgard.
Alfia’s gaze moved to Alice, who waited with bated breath, eyes fixed on the pair. With a nod, Alfia signaled for Alice to step forward:
“Take a break, Bell. Alice, you’re up next. Aki, you’ll be after her,” Alfia instructed, her voice sharp but not unkind.
As Alice took her turn, Alfia’s focus remained as sharp as ever. The cycle of instruction continued, each child facing their own set of trials under Alfia’s watchful eye. The training yard became a crucible of growth, where the children’s abilities were forged and tested in the relentless pursuit of excellence.
Bell nodded and walked over to where Alice and Aki waited. As he settled down, Alice stepped forward with determination. She drew the wooden practice sword with a firm grip. Her body might be weaker than her peers’, but her spirit was fierce. She was determined not to be a burden.
Alfia’s gaze was appraising as she observed Alice. “Begin.”
Alice launched herself at Alfia with a graceful yet determined flourish. Alfia sidestepped with ease, her counterattack swift and precise. But Alice was quick and agile, darting around her mentor with nimble footwork. She feinted left and right before landing a solid strike on the back of Alfia’s hand.
The two of them moved in a fluid dance across the hard-packed earth, their blades flashing in the afternoon sun. Alice’s breath came quickly, her exertion evident in the flush of her cheeks, but she pressed on, unwilling to relent.
Alfia’s sword cut towards Alice’s side, but the girl twisted away just in time. With a burst of energy, Alice retaliated with a series of rapid strikes, her blade a blur of motion. Alfia parried each attack with a controlled ease, a faint smile touching the corners of her mouth.
“Good,” Alfia said, her tone acknowledging the effort. “You’re getting faster.”
Alice didn’t respond, her focus entirely on the fight. She could feel her strength waning, but she refused to let up. Her determination was palpable, every movement driven by the desire to prove herself.
Then Alfia’s foot lashed out, sweeping Alice’s legs from under her. The girl fell to the ground, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Alfia’s sword tip came to rest against Alice’s shoulder.
“Yield,” Alfia commanded, her voice firm.
Alice swallowed hard, feeling the cold steel against her skin. “I yield,” she managed to say, her voice tinged with frustration.
Alfia withdrew her blade and extended a hand to Alice. With a mix of reluctance and relief, Alice took it, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. The world spun dizzily, and she staggered slightly. Bell was there immediately, steadying her with a supportive hand.
“I’m fine,” Alice insisted, though her voice was weak and unconvincing.
Alfia’s brow furrowed with concern as she looked at Alice. “Enough for now. Rest.”
Alice wanted to protest, but the stern look in Alfia’s eyes made it clear that no argument would be entertained. She nodded and leaned heavily on Bell, who guided her to a nearby garden bench. As she sat down, her muscles ached and her breath was still ragged from the exertion.
Aki watched intently, his tail flicking with a mix of impatience and curiosity. He knew his turn was next, and though he waited quietly, his resolve was clear. He would face his training with the same determination that Alice had shown, pushing himself to meet Alfia’s exacting standards.
As Alice caught her breath and rested, Alfia turned her attention to Aki. The training yard would soon be filled with the clash of wood and the sound of exertion once more. This was a cycle of growth and challenge, a relentless process of pushing each student to their limits, preparing them for the trials that lay ahead.
“Your turn, little kitten,” Alfia said, her eyes fixed on Aki. The young cat-girl sprang up, her tail whipping with excitement.
Aki stood poised, her tail flicking eagerly as she readied herself for the challenge. Instead, she drew her sword with a smooth, practiced motion and signaled for Aki to do the same.
With a determined grin, Aki unsheathed her sword as she lunged forward immediately, her blade arcing above her head. Alfia sidestepped the attack effortlessly.
Aki’s strikes came rapidly, each one aimed with precision. Despite the speed and agility she brought to the fight, Alfia’s responses were swift and accurate. The wooden swords clashed, the sound of their duel echoing in the training yard.
However, as the fight dragged on, Aki’s stamina began to wane. Her breaths came faster, and sweat trickled down her forehead. Alfia, observing her student’s fatigue, backed off slightly to give Aki a moment to regain her composure.
“You’re doing well,” Alfia said between strikes. “But remember to control your breathing. Stay focused.”
Aki nodded, trying to incorporate the advice while keeping pace with Alfia. She struggled to anticipate each move, her energy sapping with every passing moment. The fight continued, each exchange of blows a test of endurance and skill.
After what felt like an eternity of exertion, Aki stumbled back and fell onto the grass. She lay there for several moments, panting heavily. Finally, she pushed herself upright and, with a groan, said, “I yield.”
Alfia approached with a small, approving smile. She extended a hand to help Aki up, her eyes reflecting a rare hint of warmth. “You’re improving,” she said, her tone carrying genuine praise.
Aki’s face lit up with pride at the compliment. Despite Alfia’s usually stern demeanor, the compassion she showed in these moments made a significant impact. Aki had come to admire Alfia deeply, and receiving acknowledgment for her progress was a significant boost to her confidence. The training had been grueling, but the progress she made—and Alfia’s approval—made every ounce of effort worth it.
“Now it is time for the three of you to come at me as one,” Alfia said, her gaze steady as she looked down at the children. “We need to work on your coordination.”
The children nodded in understanding and quickly took their positions. Aki moved to the left, her eyes locked on Alfia with a mixture of determination and nerves. Bell stood at the center, his stance ready and alert. Alice took her place on the right, her grip on her wooden sword firm.
Alfia watched as they prepared. She knew their progress had been significant since their first training sessions, but today’s challenge would test their ability to work together under pressure.
Without warning, Alfia charged forward. The children sprang into action, attempting to respond in unison. Their initial efforts were chaotic. Aki’s attempt to draw Alfia’s attention was met with a quick sidestep from Alfia, causing Bell’s strike to miss. Alice’s effort to cover Bell faltered as she hesitated, unsure where to position herself.
The sparring was rough, the children’s movements clumsier than coordinated. They were still learning how to predict each other’s actions and support one another effectively. Yet, there was a noticeable improvement in their ability to react to Alfia’s relentless assault. As they continued, their movements became more synchronized. Aki would feint and draw Alfia’s focus, allowing Bell to attempt a strike. Alice began to anticipate where support was needed, adjusting her position to cover their backs.
Alfia, watching with a critical eye, could see their progress. They were no longer the same trio who had struggled during their first sessions. Their coordination was still imperfect, but the potential was evident. Each round brought them closer to the goal of functioning as a cohesive unit.
After several rounds of sparring, Alfia called for a break. The children, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, sank onto a nearby bench. They sipped water and caught their breath as Alfia approached them, her expression a mixture of approval and focus.
“Remember,” she said, her tone stern but encouraging, “coordination is key in battle. You need to anticipate each other’s moves and support one another seamlessly.”
The children listened intently, absorbing her words. They knew that mastering this aspect of combat was crucial for their growth. They were not just learning to fight; they were learning to fight together.
After an hour of intense training, Alfia called for another break. The children collapsed onto the bench, their exhaustion evident but their faces flushed with exhilaration. Alfia knew they were still far from where they needed to be, but the improvement was undeniable.
"You are all doing well, but we still have a lot of work to do," Alfia said "Now there is one last thing you all need to know. We will be leaving Asgard next month. You are close to needing a feat to level up, and for that, we’ll need to go to a different city. We have determined that the country of Brune would be the best location."
Alice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Where is Brune from here?"
"I will be teaching you about the country in the coming weeks," Alfia responded, "but for now, Brune is located further north and more central on the continent. It’s a younger country compared to Asgard, having been settled only 500 years ago. It’s several counties over from Asgard. You'll learn about these other countries soon enough."
Bell frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. "Why can’t we find a feat here?"
"Simple," Alfia responded "Asgard and the surrounding countries have been settled for too long. The only monsters here are weak, and you wouldn't find a feat without risking the dangerous areas near the Dragon Valley. And that is out of the question for you three. You are not nearly strong enough for that."
The children exchanged glances, their expressions growing more somber at the thought of leaving their familiar surroundings.
"If you’re that sad about it, you could give up on the idea of being heroes," Alfia said, her voice carrying a hint of a challenge. "Then we wouldn’t have to worry about finding a feat."
"No!" the children exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with determination.
Alfia’s face softened for a moment, a fleeting shadow of sorrow crossing her features. "Very well, then. You will need to get used to moving to new places frequently."
"We understand," the children replied, their resolve firm despite the uncertainty that lay ahead. They knew that the path to becoming heroes would be challenging and filled with change, but they were ready to face it.
Departure from Asgard:
The months of training had pushed the children to their limits, testing their endurance and skill. Though Asgard offered no monsters worthy of a feat, Alfia and Zald had ensured they gained experience by venturing into nearby regions where weaker creatures could be found. Each battle sharpened their abilities, inching them closer to their goal. Now, the day of departure had arrived, and the children were preparing to leave their temporary home.
The Harvest Festival, marking the end of the growing season and the onset of harsh northern winters, was a backdrop to their farewell. The streets buzzed with the festival's final echoes as Odin and Frigga gathered with Alfia, Zald, and the children at the city's edge.
“I hope to see you again, my friend,” Odin said, clasping Zeus's hand firmly. His gaze was steady, full of unspoken promises and in a whisper said “I will continue to look into the matter you asked about.”
“Same here, my friend. And thanks,” Zeus replied, returning the handshake with equal strength. The two men shared a moment of mutual respect and understanding before parting.
Frigga turned her attention to the children. “Now, little ones, hard work is important, but so is rest,” she said gently. She pulled Alice and Aki into her lap, her skilled hands weaving simple braids into their hair. The braids were practical, designed to keep their hair out of their faces during training. Her touch was tender, a stark contrast to the rigorous training they had endured. Over the past six months, Frigga had treated them as her own, a nurturing presence amidst their trials.
As she finished braiding the girls’ hair, Frigga moved to Bell. She ruffled his hair affectionately, giving him a warm hug before patting his head.
“I wish you all the best,” she said softly
“Yes, you are always welcome in our home,” Odin added, placing a hand on each child’s shoulder with a reassuring grip. His words were sincere, a promise of continued support and friendship.
“We will come back after the children have their feat, most likely,” Hera said, her tone steady as she watched the preparations. Her words were a promise, a beacon of hope for the future.
With final farewells exchanged, the children and adults climbed into the waiting wagon. The vehicle was laden with supplies for the journey ahead, and the children’s faces reflected a mix of excitement and trepidation. As the wagon began to roll away from the city, the figures of Odin and Frigga, and the bustling festival, receded into the distance. The path ahead was uncertain, but the children knew that with each mile, they were one step closer to their goal.
As the city faded from view, Alfia took her place at the front of the wagon, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. The journey would be long, and the challenges would be many, but the progress the children had made was a testament to their resolve. They were ready for whatever lay ahead, prepared to face the trials that would shape them into the heroes they aspired to be.
