"What a little monster," Amnur mumbled, doing his best to keep his inner heat from burning the forest. He was still discussing with Hrothgar how they were to protect Eldrian. The dwarf kneeling before him, not daring to raise his head.
"Lord Amnur, I do not understand why you asked us to stay our hand. Bringïrr nearly had his beard singed."
Amnur found it strange how dwarves still cared so much for their beards, a culture that has not only existed since before his birth but also seemingly grown since then. Hrothgar would never question him, even if those under him died. Yet for a beard, he dared.
"Because he has to walk his path. If we influence his growth, then he will never grow. Hrothgar, you know this..." Amnur paused, moving his hands through his red beard. "Yes, you have not had a new recruit in a century. So you might have forgotten."
"No! I recall vividly the trails placed before us all. But... Does he really need to walk them this early? He is far too weak for the enemies in the forest."
"I know," Amnur replied, turning his gaze back to where Eldrian was. He could not see him from this far, but he could sense the change from that direction. The message from Dragos was what had stolen his attention and brought it to Eldrian.
"He is truly..." Amnur paused as he failed to find the words. "Hrothgar, do you know why Athtar is the leader of those like me?"
The kneeling dwarf shook his head in denial, knowing little of the elven emperor. His predecessor had shared what he knew, which had only been what he had heard in passing from Amnur. It was rare for them to meet the creator of their legacy more than twice in their lives.
"It is because he is the strongest. I reached my peak in a few hundred years, most would consider that average."
Hrothgar had no words hearing this, Amnur was someone he dared not even look at. His being seen as average made no sense.
"Most of us believe that the faster you can reach your peak, the more talented you are. However, this is actually wrong. Yes, having fast growth is impressive. But growth without a plan is meaningless. The reason I am average is not because I took so long, but rather because I took my time."
"My lord?" Hrothgar felt honored that Amnur was sharing a secret like this with him. Yet at the same time, he felt like this was criticism. All guards needed to have fast growth to be accepted into the guard.
Tier 7 before the age of 35, or Tier 8 before the age of 80. This might not sound too difficult, but most would never reach Tier 5. Those talented enough would often be stuck at Tier 7 in old age. The requirements were actually so intense that less than 1% of the talented dwarves stood a chance.
"Athar..." Amnur paused as he recalled how he and those with him had even lost interest in the promising elf. At first, all of them had been drawn to him. He was the first to get the attention of three gods after all. Yet when the years passed and Athar showed no growth, everyone felt it was a mistake from the gods.
It was not just a few years later, rather an entire millennium before Athar proved to them that it was no mistake. His growth had been slow, but not flawed. His strength was such that few could contend with him, Amnur knew he could only due to his many crafts. In raw strength he stood no chance.
"He took over a millennia to finally reach Tier 10. This is considered good for an averagely talented High Elf, yet most had mocked him as a loser. All his siblings having reached the same Tier in just a few centuries."
"My lord?" Hrothgar repeated, not understanding what Amnur was getting at.
"This kid..." Amnur paused to focus on the information Dragos had shared with him. "His path is certainly flawed, yet it is also unique."
"Hrothgar, how long did it take you to master the Abyssal legacy?" Amnur asked, it was a special legacy he had made with the help of Athtar. One of the few that people could practice without any prerequisite. A legacy that could make an army of people with the same hidden class.
It was one of two, the other being the Nirvania legacy, practiced by the elves. The inverse of the one Amnur had shared with the dwarves.
Abyssal was focused on unity, a collective strength. A strength like that of the abyss, all-encompassing. Nirvania was focused on the individual, on uncontainable strength.
"It had taken me two years to grasp it, and twenty more to reach Tier 8. My Lord."
"That is quite good," Amnur said, giving the dwarf some praise. "Let me ask you then, what would you think if I told you that this elf, Haru, has just made his own. After being in this world for less than four months?"
Hrothgar had no words, he shivered at the thought. A legacy was no easy thing to learn. It required reaching a fine control in mana, a direct control. Something most could never do. Something normally only left to the higher races, those with much longer lifespans.
"Yet the most shocking thing is he is only Tier 3," Amnur mumbled, forgetting that Hrothgar was still there. "Normally a legacy is only required from Tier 5 onwards. Before that, the hidden class is not properly formed."
"Dragos's flames, what will this elf do to breach the Tier 5 barrier?" Amnur had no idea what it could possibly be.
While Eldrian's legacy was certainly flawed, it was a decent rank already. His personal legacy was only Rank S, Athtars was Epic, the abyssal guard was ranked B. The same as Eldrian's. Unlike the guard's Eldrian could modify and improve his, starting at Rank B was insanely good.
Athtar had started at Rank A, but he had spent decades planning and forming his. More importantly, he had done it when aiming for Tier 5, as was standard.
Amnur's own had been Ranked C, while most had a legacy of rank E. A legacy worse than that meant they would never be able to become a legend. Still, the most shocking stayed how quickly Eldrian had reached this point, along with him having done it earlier than all before.
'And it took us centuries to develop it.' Amnur mumbled, his pride had taken a big hit. He was now far more invested to make sure Eldrian survived and thrived.
Willing to even spend the next few years watching. Something that was not a problem considering one of his line had also become a candidate, and that one was nearby too.
...
"What are you doing here Milgoroth?" Idris Vrikolas, the lord and ruler of the Vrikolas drylands asked in irritants. He hated when the devils barged into his kingdom. They never gave him the respect he deserved.
"Sir Vrikolas," Milgoroth made sure to be humble and careful with his words, "I am certain you have heard of the candidate."
"Candidates," Idris replied, causing Milgoroth to stumble for a moment.
"Then... The first one, the elf." Milgoroth said, waiting for the signal to continue, "I found him."
"Oh," This pricked the vampire lord's interest, "So fast."
"Yes, my lord. I disguised myself as a demi-human and visited Kynigo. It was not hard to find out where he was."
Idris nodded, wishing he could also disguise himself so easily and so well. Unfortunately, all cities had a way to detect the undead. "Then why are you here, his strength is known to be very weak."
"Indeed." Milgoroth paused, "But he is being protected."
"By who?" The vampire could smell the fear emanating from the young devil, causing him some curiosity. Milgoroth's special bloodline and his talent for stealth and escaping were well known among the local devils.
Him fearing someone other than his father, and not even daring to try was quite strange. It meant that his fear for these protectors was more than that for his father.
"I-I... I do not know. A dwarf in black armor appea-" Milgoroth stopped as the vampire lord suddenly appeared before him.
"Black armor?"
Not daring to speak the young devil simply nodded, causing Idris to fall back a step. "Go, keep track of the target!"
"Bu-"
"Go! I will find you."
Turning to his throne, Idris felt his heart race. While he was technically undead, he was also not. Vampires were not like the others, they still retained most of their humanity. This came with both good and bad, and he felt this time it was good.
'Let's see if you dare protect him openly.' The vampire lord licked his lips, wishing for a taste of an abyssal guard's blood.
...
"What?" Farest shouted in disbelief. One of Pelaros's personal guards having rushed to Kynigo and teleported to Taur to deliver the news.
"It is as I said. Pelaros has been seriously wounded by an awakening Flaming Reanimate. He will not be able to recover anytime soon. Weeks at the least." The burly demi-human whose animal half is that of a lion said.
"How did this happen?" Farest asked, unable to accept that his uncle was nearly killed. His uncle was certainly not the strongest, but he was quite high up there.
"I do not know. But we need immediate assistance." The demi-human pressed, wishing that the old king was still on the throne.
"Why don't we go to see?" The old king suddenly asked, "We were planning to travel a bit in a guise to show that we aren't scared. Going to the point of conflict will have the same effect."
Farest nodded, when it came to strength, few could best his father even in his old age. While his body had slowly been deteriorating, his experience more than made up for it.