Divine Beast Ascension

“Right, you don’t know our cultivations,” remarked Lambier, staring around the table. “I’m a mid-perennial and so is Marsel. Ceela just became a low-perennial. Opal is still a low-perennial but that shouldn’t be for long.”

“I’m also a low-perennial,” Sarpo stated with the raise of his tail.

Sticking out his chest, Hurdo laughed, “And I’m finally a mid-perennial! It took me long enough.”

The exact details weren’t that shocking, considering the magnitude of the invasion they would be joining. But it was somewhat startling for Oli to learn about Hurdo’s cultivation and how he never fell behind his mother, Ania.

“Also,” Lambier continued, “we all use a different essence type. I’m a wind user.”

Smiling brightly, Ceela raised her cup and said, “I’m a light user, so I’ll be in charge of healing and a lot of support.”

“Ice and water all the way, baby!” Opal laughed, flexing her muscles while creating an icy gauntlet on one arm and making some ice knuckles in her other hand.

Marsel chuckled while letting a small flame dance around his fingertips. “I’m all about firepower, but I picked up a useful axe with the help of that leopard.”

.....

A few sparks of electricity flew out of Sarpo’s tail before he picked up his wine glass again. “I don’t think I need to mention my affinity. You already recognized my species, so yeah.”

“And I’m the earth master of the group, or at least the closet thing to an earth master that the territory could spare,” laughed Hurdo, happily downing more and more wine while he had the chance.

Enjoying the jovial vibe, Lambier raised his glass to Oli. “That makes you the dark user, the stealth specialist we were looking for that also happens to have a knack for assassinations. Here’s to Vero!”

“Aye, aye!”

While Oli joined in the camaraderie, amazed to get accepted so quickly, not everyone was enjoying their time at the dinner table.

Just a little further down, the members of the Practor Family were eating their food and chatting amongst themselves. And every parent or grandparent present noticed the irked, gloomy expressions of some of the younger family members.

“Is something wrong, Melinda?” Mertin asked, pausing his eating and drinking to have a genuine conversation.

Not meeting her father’s gaze, Melinda kept staring at her half-eaten plate. “... How come I can’t go?”

“Melinda, we’ve been over this–”

“That was before I knew a mid-elder was allowed to go,” reasoned Melinda. “And you even let a mid-elder into the task force. But I’m not allowed to join the other elders to hold the front lines or act as reinforcements?!”

Sighing, Herman joined the conversation, “Melinda, Vero was accepted because his unique skills could even hurt me. I would say that’s a fair assessment and a good reason to let Vero join the battle with some special treatment. And just because Vero was assigned to the task force doesn’t mean he won’t be on the front lines. He’ll be put wherever we need him most.

“Actually, the odds dictate that Vero will spend at least half of his time infiltrating enemy lines and strongholds. That’s far more dangerous than being on the front lines.”

Melinda refuted, “That’s exactly what I mean, though! That he gets to participate despite only being a mid-elder. Yet here I am, a high-elder, but I’m not allowed to even join the average battle. I need experience to grow stronger! When will I get another chance like this?”

“You know, she kinda has a point,” Jonon casually chimed in. “Just saying. After all, during our first war, Mertin was still a peak-adept.”

“What?!”

Unable to stop Melinda after Jonon revealed that old fact, Mertin sighed while putting on his warmest, fatherly grin, “Melinda, honey, I just care about you. I know you’ve never experienced anything like this before and we don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Then let me at least be part of the second string of forces! Even if I’m not on the front lines, experience is experience! But I want to be on the front lines,” stated Melinda, solidifying her stance the moment she learned that fact about her father. “I’m almost a full realm stronger than you were in your first war, apparently. So why can’t I fight? Give me one good reason other than the fact that I’m your daughter and you love me.”

“...” Mertin’s tongue seized up from that comment.

“... See? So what’s wrong with me joining the fight?”

“Give it up, Son. You know she’s not wrong,” Herman remarked with a shrug. “Would I prefer that she not be put in harm’s way? Of course. I’m her grandpa. That’s my job. But if she’s this adamant, I’m willing to accept her request.”

“Really?!” Rushing to her feet out of excitement and surprise, Melinda asked, “You really mean that? I can join the fight?”

Nodding, Herman replied, “Yes, under my conditions.”

“Okay! What conditions?”

“First off, you’ll be under your father’s command. What he says, goes,” stated Herman. “And Mertin, don’t you dare use your position to hide her on the battlefield. I’m not saying to give her an impossible position to defend, but allow her to gain the experience she’s seeking and give protective orders only when necessary.”

“... Yes, Father,” Mertin accepted the orders with a heavy heart.

Herman continued, “Second, you’ll be given a partner to accompany you everywhere. You’re to protect each other, share responsibilities on the battlefield, and even share a tent.”

Blinking, Melinda thought of something and asked, “Share a tent? Then who–”

“You’ll meet this person soon. And third…” Herman moved on, letting his neutral expression flip into a teasing smile. “Don’t you dare dishonor the family name, though I already know you won’t. You never have.”

“Thank you, Patriarch!” Still standing, Melinda gave her grandpa a full bow. Her voice was brimming with freshly-uncorked enthusiasm. “I won’t let you down!”

Raising his hand, Johan asked, “If Uncle Mertin was only an adept when he went to war, then can me and Leon join too?”

Herman didn’t answer immediately. He took a moment to glance at Jonon and Lyle, searching for their reactions or responses.

Sighing with a self-mocking tone, Lyle commented “Well, as an elder myself, I find it hard to decline your request… Leon, do you feel the same way?”

“YES!”

Leon stood up as fast as possible before dropping to his knees and bowing to his father. “Please, allow me to gain more experience! I’m not as talented as Johan or Melinda, but I promise to fulfill every order to the best of my ability. Whatever you order, you have, I’ll fulfill it.”

Lyle looked at his low-elder son. His eyes almost got watery as Lyle was reminded of the first time he begged Herman to join a local war effort at around Leon’s age.

“... If your grandfather will allow it, I’ll accept you as my squire and assistant,” Lyle offered. “It won’t give you too much actual battle experience. However, you will see the logistical side to warfare and gain a plethora of other experiences.”

“Thank, Father!” Leon bowed again before turning toward Herman next. “Patriarch, please allow me to man the battlefield as my father has offered.”

Chuckling, Herman felt the same nostalgia that Lyle had. Seeing Leon, the spitting image of Lyle at a younger age, practically kowtowing just to fight in battle. “Of course, you’re allowed to accept your father’s offer. It would be ridiculous for me to deny it.”

“Then,” Johan was the next to stand up and show more passion, “please allow me to do the same. Let me fight, like Melinda, please!”

Before Herman could reply, Jonon spoke up, “Son, I’m sorry but I won’t be joining the battle in Prodson. I’ll be staying here in Iron Town. Someone has to continue teaching at the academy and represent the Practor Family if needed.

“However, I’m willing to send you off under the same conditions as Melinda. And I think I know who the patriarch has in mind to fulfill those extra conditions.”

“Really?!” Johan nearly jumped for joy.

Herman then spoke up, adding, “I do have someone in mind for your companion, Johan. And you’ll also be sharing a tent with them while serving directly under your Uncle Mertin.

“But if any of you don’t follow orders or break the ranks to fight without the proper protocol, then you’ll be shipped back home before you have a chance to complain or argue. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Patriarch!” All three of them bowed in unison.

“I… wish I could go too…” Pauller groaned from the side.

Laughing, Lyle reached over to his youngest son and ruffled Pauller’s hair. “One day, you’ll head off to some battle somewhere. Trust me. Considering the reputation of Iron Territory, either we’ll be starting wars or finishing them. So all of you kids are bound to gain plenty of experience.”

Herman added, “So long as you’re patient and follow orders.”