But before all that.
Jarius cast his gaze down to the shimmering green stones and the tiny turtle nestled at the lake's bottom. He hesitated, mulling it over, then decided against taking them along.
He had no storage gear to speak of, and lugging those treasures around? It'd be like a kid strolling through a bustling market with a fistful of gold—begging for trouble.
Besides, he recalled that storage equipment didn't even show up until the later days of the Goblin Empire in the second chapter.
Marking the spot in his mind.
Jarius gave his gray-and-white wings a mighty flap. Up he shot into the sky, a faint rumble of wind and thunder trailing in his wake!
Hovering in mid-air.
His vision sharpened to an uncanny degree—transcendence had its perks.
He could see it all clear as day: the ragtag races once loyal to the Blue Dragon King's camp were either scrambling for their lives or dropping to their knees in surrender.
The battle was over. Victory sealed!
His eyes drifted to the nearby clash—where the Thunder Titan had squared off against the Blue Dragon King.
There, the Titan had just gulped down the dragon's massive, still-throbbing heart. With brutal precision, it peeled back sinew and skin, plucking the choicest bits from the corpse. Jarius' eyelid twitched at the grisly sight.
A dragon was a walking treasure trove, head to tail—especially an ancient one like this.
But the Blue Dragon King? He was the son of the Ancient Dragon Emperor.After this carnage, the dragons would swear blood vengeance against the Titans, a feud that'd end only when one side was dust.
The true war to end all wars was brewing!
This—this was the spark that'd set the world ablaze!
"No way," Jarius muttered to himself. "Once I get back, I'm rounding up my people and getting out. TheGaoman Mountain is a death trap now!"
"Wherever that Thunder Titan stands, the fighting'll be fiercest. The ancient dragons won't rest till he's dead!"
His heart clenched tight.
"If history holds true, we've got one year before the Titans and dragons tear each other apart!"
"Forget it—I need to find my people. Where are they now?"
He banked eastward, wings cutting through the air.
Back when he'd tangled with that wyvern, he'd lured it off, and his clan had bolted east.
Lucky for him, the Eagle People were on the winning side now. Soaring over the battlefield? No danger there.
After a stretch of flight, he spotted them—a sprawling flock of Eagle People dotting the sky.
His clan was among them.
But a quick scan soured his mood. Only thirty-odd remained, every last one battered and bloodied.
Frowning, Jarius swooped in closer.
He'd changed—drastically. Sure, he still looked like an Eagle Person, but he stood apart now.
His clan sensed something familiar in him, yet they hesitated, unsure.
The crackling thunder coiling around his wings screamed transcendent. No mistaking it.
The royal court had its share of transcendent Eagle People, sure, but each one was a prized weapon—leagues above the common flock.
From the group, a burly Eagle warrior emerged—gray-black wings, stone spear in hand, radiating strength. He dipped his head respectfully.
"Sir, what brings you here?"
The deference in this royal court warrior's tone—worlds apart from before—hit Jarius like a brick. Transcendence really flipped the script.
"I'm here for my clan," he replied.
"Your clan?"
The warrior blinked, puzzled.
"Yeah—them!"
With that, he glided straight to his people.
"My kin, it's me—Jarius! I'm back, alive!"
"You? Really you?" A male Eagle Person broke from the crowd, staring at the transformed Jarius half-thrilled, half-doubting.
"Soren, it's me!"
Jarius grinned, nodding.
Hearing their names roll off his tongue so easily.
The Gaoman Mountain tribe still couldn't wrap their heads around it.
Jarius' makeover was too wild—and a transcendent to boot? It felt like a fever dream!
He was about to ask why only thirty-some remained when that royal court warrior zipped back over, buzzing with excitement.
"Sir, you're a fresh transcendent Eagle Person!"
Jarius' drastic shift didn't faze him—transcendence was a personal thing, and he'd seen it all.
"Yep,"
Jarius confirmed with a nod.
"Since you've ascended, come with me to meet the King! He'll be thrilled!"
The warrior pressed on.
"What's in it for me?"
Jarius asked, not sold on the idea.
The question threw the seasoned warrior for a loop.
"Leaving the tribe behind and joining the royal court—that's not the biggest perk?"
Jarius shook his head.
"And my clan? What about them?"
The warrior scoffed.
"Tribal riffraff? Lowly peasants, all of 'em—like weeds choking the wilds, popping up endlessly. Why bother? Just grab your family and go!"
He turned west, reverence dripping from his voice.
"The Eagle People's royal court sits atop the Heavenly Mountains—resources galore, paradise on earth, right by His Highness Thunder Titan Yatri's divine palace. That's where the elite belong!"
Jarius' gut twisted with disgust.
Royalty that didn't give a damn about its own people? No wonder the Eagle People crumbled in the fifth chapter—stripped of civilization, reduced to mindless beasts with no legacy!
He swallowed his rage. Freshly transcendent, he wasn't strong enough to take on the court—not yet. Patience it was.
"The tribe raised me," he said, voice steady. "I'm not ditching them. But meeting the King? Lead on, brother."
When you're outmatched, scoping out the enemy's lair isn't a bad move.
The warrior chuckled, unfazed.
"Tribal-born transcendents always start out like this. Give it time at the court—you'll come around. Let's go see the King!"
After calming his clan, Jarius tailed the warrior to the Eagle King's stronghold.
Stepping into the royal camp, Jarius clocked plenty of transcendent Eagle People milling about. Inside the King's tent, a plump figure crowned with feathers lounged at the head, chatting with a middle-aged Eagle Person.
Jarius' senses pegged the Eagle King's aura—nowhere near the Thunder Titan's, but still way out of his league.
Perched on his throne.
The King barely glanced at the new transcendent in his midst.
"From trash to transcendent, huh? Serve me well, guard the court down the line. Off you go."
He waved a lazy hand at an attendant.
"Get them two servings of Wind Feather Jade Dew. Then have the priest walk the newbie through the profession path."
Inside the tent.
The warrior who'd brought Jarius lit up, hollering,
"Thank you, Your Majesty!"
Jarius shot him a look and got it.
That's why he dragged me here—perks for him.
But "profession"? That word pinged something. Still, he echoed.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
In the fifth chapter's future, professions were the next step for every transcendent.
Warriors, mages, rangers, priests, night watchmen, knights, witches, warlocks, sorceresses, druids—the list went on.
Branching out like a sprawling tree.
Each one had a clear shot at legendary status. Pick a job, and only talent and resources held you back. But here, now? Things weren't lining up.
Profession path. First he'd heard of it.
Led by the attendant, he snagged the Wind Feather Jade Dew, then followed to the priest's quarters.
A robed female Eagle Person stepped up.
Eyeing him.
"You're transcendent now. Time to learn the ropes of advancement."
"The key? Figuring out your profession path!"
"Lock that in, and you've got a shot at climbing higher. A strong path could even take you to legend!"
Jarius' pulse quickened.
"Priest, where do I sign up for an Eagle Person profession?"
"Sign up?"
Her brow furrowed.
"There's no 'signing up.' The profession path's got two roads: make your own or inherit it through blood. What's this 'sign up' nonsense?"
Jarius blanked.
"No signing up? Then how do I hit legend?"
She stared, dumbfounded, then smirked.
"Legend? You've got some guts dreaming that big. On Felander, a profession path to legend is rarer than gold. Right now, only the royal 'Sky Warrior' gig's got a full roadmap."
"Self-made paths? They're rough drafts—years of grinding and tweaking just to maybe get somewhere."
"So, any real power in a profession? Bloodline inheritance only."
She grinned at him, amused.
"No fancy ancestors? Then you're building from scratch!"
Her taunts slid off him, but inside, his mind reeled.
In the future, profession hubs dotted the world—any sapient being with the chops could pick a polished legendary path and dive in.
Or rather, paths without that legendary shine didn't last.
Who pulled that off? Mind-blowing stuff!
Only a god could swing something that epic, right?
But now? A legendary profession path was a damn unicorn!
The old-timers plant the trees; the kids kick back in the shade.
Future folks had it made!
And here he was—one of those tree-planting suckers.
For now, he pressed.
"Priest, how do I forge a profession?"
"Down a transcendent item to kickstart your spiritual vision—Wind Feather Jade Dew works."
"Then meditate, tap into the spiritual sea, and shape your profession with your own vision!"
"Word of warning: it's gotta fit your body, your traits, your mind, your grit!"
"Don't get cocky and overreach, or your path's DOA—a dead-end from the jump!"
"Crafting's no cakewalk. You catch all that?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Now scram!"