Chapter 7: Asvail: The City of Legends

As the trio rested by the crackling campfire, the memory of Michael lingered in their minds.

The way he had killed the demon with a single, effortless strike was something they couldn’t forget.

“That guy…” Ren began, staring into the flames, “he didn’t just kill the demon. He obliterated it.

One moment it was a terrifying beast; the next, it was… gone.

” Rex, his usual bravado tempered by the memory, nodded. “Yeah. And it wasn’t just his strength. Did you feel it? That pressure?

When he looked at you, Ren…” He shuddered. “It was like he was deciding whether we were worth letting live.

” Alys, always composed, had her bow resting on her lap, but even she couldn’t hide her unease. “That wasn’t just killing intent.

It was control. He didn’t just hold back because he could—he held back because we didn’t even register as a threat to him.

And when he asked about those ‘demonic presences,’ it was like he already knew the answer.”

Ren clenched his fists. “It wasn’t just fear. It was like he was staring right through me, peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had.

He wasn’t just powerful—he was… terrifying.

” Rex forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, good thing he’s not our enemy, right? I mean, he did save us.”

“True,” Alys agreed, though her tone remained wary. “

But if someone like Michael exists, there’s bound to be others just as strong—or stronger. And if we want to survive, we need to be ready.

” Ren nodded, his resolve hardening. “And we will be.” The conversation shifted as Alys unfurled a map, tracing a finger along their route.

“Our next stop is the Kingdom of Asvail. It’s where we’ll find answers—and where we’ll have the chance to grow stronger.

” Rex’s eyes lit up. “Asvail! I’ve always wanted to go there.

The city is supposed to be incredible—huge walls, bustling streets, and people from every race under the sun. Elves, dwarves, beastkin… all living together!

” Alys smiled faintly. “It’s more than that. Asvail is the heart of Frya’s strength. The elite champion recruitment is held there—the best of the best are chosen and trained under Frya’s greatest warriors. If we’re going to prove ourselves, this is the place to do it.”

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Ren tilted his head. “Elite recruitment?

” Alys nodded. “ champions from across Frya gather in Asvail. Humans with blessings, elves with unparalleled mana, dwarves with their unbreakable bodies… everyone competes. The tests are rigorous: priests check your affinity and blessings, and instructors test your physical and combat skills.

These instructors aren’t just any fighters—they’re legends. Their names alone strike fear into enemies.” “Sounds like fun,” Rex said, grinning. “But also like a lot of competition.”

“Exactly,” Alys replied.

“Champions from all over Frya all come here. And with that many people aiming for the top, we’ll have to give it everything we’ve got.”

As the trio approached the Kingdom of Asvail, the sheer scale of the city left them awestruck.

The towering walls stretched as far as the eye could see, adorned with banners bearing the kingdom’s crest.

Inside, the city pulsed with life, a vibrant blend of cultures and races. Humans, elves, dwarves, beastkin, and even the rare dragonkin mingled in the bustling streets. “This place is incredible,” Rex marveled, his eyes darting between the sprawling districts and the towering spires in the distance.

Ren nodded, equally amazed. “It’s like the entire world is gathered here.” Alys, though silent, couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

Even she couldn’t deny the kingdom’s grandeur.

As they made their way through the square, the air seemed to thrum with competition. Champions from all over Frya—some wearing the armor of warriors, others dressed in robes of magic—moved in clusters, exchanging eager words or sizing one another up with wary eyes.”

Ren overheard snippets of conversations as they passed. “the descendants of the champions who had fought alongside King Arthur are here!” “That elf belongs to the Manaweavers Guild. They say the elfs are unmatched in magic.” “A royal with a warrior’s bloodline? This year’s competition will be fierce.”

“Look, the mixed-bloods are here too,” someone scoffed and whispered

. “Why do they even bother? They’ll never measure up to the "purebloods" They’re a disgrace to our lineage''. That last remark drew a round of laughter from a group of humans and elves nearby.

Alys stiffened, her expression hardening. She cast her gaze downward, gripping her bow tightly. Ren noticed immediately.

“Alys?” he asked gently.

She hesitated before answering, her voice quieter than usual.

“I… I hate that term. ‘Mixed-blood.’ It’s like they think we’re less than them because we’re not pure. It’s always been like this.” Ren pieced it together. He hadn’t thought much of it before, but seeing her reaction now reminded him of how she’d always shy away from such comments, covering her ears as if to block them out. It dawned on him how much it had always hurt her.

“They’re wrong,” Ren said firmly, stepping closer to her.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, Alys. Who cares about ‘pure’ or ‘mixed’? You’ve proven yourself more times than I can count.” She glanced at him, her eyes softening. “Thanks, Ren. It’s just… hard sometimes. Hearing those things.

Rex chimed in, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Yeah, forget those jerks. You’re Alys—the sharpshooter who’s saved our skins more times than I can count. Let them talk; we’ll let our actions do the real talking."

Alys smiled faintly, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Thanks, you two. I needed that."

As they reached the main square, the crowd’s chatter grew louder. The announcement of the recruitment program had drawn champions from all over Frya, each eager to prove their worth.