Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn! 183 Level of the World 1

He took in his surroundings and found himself to be back in the guest room in Elder Mash'noth's abode.

Quickly checking his condition, he was pleased to notice that, apart from being covered lightly in sweat and grime, he was in prime condition. Even his bite wound had completely vanished, not even leaving a scar…

'Must be the rejuvenating effect of Divine Light… Hmm, looks like I'll have to master this type of power to last long in this world.'

Lars stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders and then slipped out of bed. He walked over to a covered basin of water in the corner and freshened up, then changed into a fresh pair of clothes – a plain brown shirt and trousers set. He found his boots on the floor by the door and put them, making a last check to be sure he was presentable before he opened the door and headed out.

"Hello…? Ren…? Elder Mash'noth…? Is anyone around…?"

When he walked through the short corridor to the main hall, he was curious – he couldn't hear any sounds of activity nearby despite it being on the main street. What he did hear were distant sounds of people scurrying about and moving things, set against the background of shouted commands echoing out. Finally, the sounding of a horn could be heard every now and then, signalling that something big was going on.

He shrugged and headed out the front door and towards the sound of the commotion, planning to find out what was going on.

As his paces fell, he reviewed his body, mind and soul.

Despite only having unlocked two of the seven deadly sins and Gluttony not even being halfway mastered, it seemed that his inner state had achieved a qualitative breakthrough. He felt refreshed and as if though he had… Grown and expanded.

Based on his conjecture, if previously he were at the Near-Mythical realm, currently he had fully broken through to become a true Myth – and not only one at the fledgeling stages. He felt that, with just a thought, legendary spells would spring forth with the power to crush mountains, evaporate seas or overturn kingdoms. His mind and soul felt like they had changed substantially.

'If a normal person were a cup full sand, then a Legend would be a swimming pool fill to the brim with solid stones… And as for me, I would be comparable to a vast lake full of molten lava – both fluid and solid, able to melt and consume things one moment, and explode in destructive wrath the next…!'

He also felt like his body had evolved. Earlier his Minotaur bloodline formed in his heart and bone marrow were endlessly nourishing his flesh and bones. Now however, he felt lighter and yet stronger than ever before. The Divine Light's baptism must have changed his body at the DNA level, not just increasing his Divine Light affinity greatly but also strengthening him in the process.

'Hmm…' Lars was cautious though. His strength of mind, his Mythical-soul and his high affinity for Divine Light would be as strong as mentioned only in conditions with a source of power.

 'Over here without mana and without knowing how to cultivate Divine Light… I'm only about five times as strong as a normal person… I still need to learn the cultivation methods for Divine Light and their mysterious inner power.'

"Hurry! Load the arrows! The earlier we finish preparations, the sooner we can set up for the battle tomorrow!"

'Oh? There're some people over there. And it seems that there's a battle. The goblins, most likely?' Lars saw a group of townspeople beside a cart carrying arrows out of a wooden warehouse and loading them to be transported. He quickened his pace and reached their group in no time.

The men paused for a moment when they saw him, looking him up and down and frowning warily, wondering why the stranger brought in recently was untied and wandering about. The atmosphere grew tense, but the leader of the men held up his hand, then waved them to carry on with the loading.

The leader of the four men, a balding man in his latter years, glanced at his companions and gave them a nod before he tossed the bundle of arrows in his hands onto the cart and walked over to meet Lars.

"...Stranger. If not for you bearing a mark of the Elder, we'd have apprehended you and locked you up." The man's gaze fell on the cat's bell that Lars had threaded onto the necklace he wore, then returned his gaze to Lars.

He then sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't know what the higher-ups were thinking... How could they let a stranger wander around unsupervised and unbound?" He sighed once again.

"Well, get on with it. What do you want? Or are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Lars smiled and explained that he had woken up alone after the Truthstone test, then asked what was going on. Hearing that Lars' story appeared to be sound, the man then introduced himself as Pol, the Arcanist.

The goblins had sprung a small sneak attack, managing to breach the walls and injuring a number of residents. The alarm had been immediately sounded and the invaders had then been repelled, however, that was just a prelude to the real act.

The main goblin troops were gathering to attack, about a half day's march away. It seemed that they had sufficient numbers gathered and were ready to launch their attack the next morning. From the scouts' estimates, reinforcements had stopped, but that still left them with more than 3,000 warriors - more than 5 times the number of residents in the homestead.

The only silver lining was that every member of the homestead was a capable fighter from their youth - there would be no burdens found among their number.

Ignoring the curious matter of why an Arcanist - a mage - would be loading arrows with the rest, Lars asked a few more questions and found out that the council members were at the homestead walls overlooking the goblin camps, over on the south-western edge of the settlement.

Lars thanked the man and apologised that he needed to hurry off, eliciting a harrumph of derision from Pol. Lars quickened his pace, heading over to the battlements to look for the others.

* * * * *

As Lars moved closer, he began to see more and more people moving about making preparations for the battle. He passed by leaders of small groups shouting commands, blacksmiths hammering away to maintain equipment while men and women of all ages transported supplies, ammunition and materials for fortification.

'Oh...? Finally found someone I know.' He swept his gaze over the surroundings and noticed Katya standing outside a command point receiving messengers and giving out new commands.

Lars jogged over, drawing her attention with raised brows and a conflicted look. Before he drew near, Katya hollered over to him.

"You scoundrel! Hmmph! You may have gained the trust of the rest, but not mine! I'm still watching your every move, *BRAT*! If you dare to betray our homestead, I'll cut off your arms and legs and feed you to the goblins myself!" Katya's eyes were cold and ruthless as she spat out these words, but she was met with an impassive gaze from Lars who just maintained his slight smile.

Seeing that he was calm in the face of being confronted, Katya harrumphed again and returned to her work.

Lars remained silent and waited a while longer, still smiling. Katya continued to receive updates and pass out commands for a while more, then she gave Lars a murderous glare once more and spoke.

"Alright, alright! Milady left word to send you to Gatyon when - *IF* - you woke up! You can find him at the barracks training grounds."

"Now go! Don't bother me anymore! Can't you see I'm busy? Get lost!" Clearly at the end of her self-control, Katya's hand seemed to unconsciously move to the long dagger at her waist, twitching in annoyance.

This time, Lars' eyes widened and he made haste to leave. Better to find out what Gatyon had in store for him than stay here and be stabbed at random by an enraged woman...

It didn't take long to find Gatyon at the training grounds, as the barracks was the largest building and simple to find.

The large man who towered over him was surprised to see him awake out of the blue, but smiled gently and laid a firm hand on Lars' shoulder.

"Boy! I'm glad you're well! Milady and the Elder have already told us about your uniqueness. Haha! Boy! Do you know that you - yes, you! Are the first chance - the only hope - we have ever had to redeem the fallen...?"

"Hahaha! Come come, before you can lead us against the Darkness, you'll need to be trained, right? We don't have much time, let's get straight to it."

Lars' eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat - this was exactly what he needed right now. But he was also confused.

"Sir Gaty-"

"WHAT!? SIR?! THAT'S WHAT YOU CALL OLD PEOPLE ONLY! JUST CALL ME GATYON!" Lars began to speak, but was nearly blown away by a thunderous shout from the mountain of a man.

"Ah, yes, yes, Gatyon..." Lars' face paled slightly, shocked at Gatyon's insistence. Seeing that Gatyon was satisfied now, he continued his question.

"What about the goblin raid?"

"Goblins? HAH!" At his words, Gatyon scoffed and glanced in the direction of the walls.

"Those goblins...? Even a dragon wouldn't be enough to take us down!"

Gatyon strode towards an empty training room of the barracks, nodding and greeting the men and women who were busy training. As he walked, he let his fingers brush against the old and yet sturdy pillars and walls, aged but still standing strong after all these years.

"Over the hundreds of years our Faro homestead has been here, we've weathered countless storms, disasters and battles."

"Time and time again, we have come through it stronger. Though we may be fewer now..."

Valiance and strength flashed in his eyes as he spoke.

"Just a horde of goblins! We, the Faro people will slay them all and continue our history for many generations to come! Hahaha!"

"Alright, come, boy! I'll teach you the power that we wield..."

"Earth Pulse - the soul and strength of the land!"

Chapter end