"What's the problem?" Amnur, a dwarf seemingly aflame asked his friend. His beard and hair like flowing lava. Causing the surrounding air to often catch aflame. His friend, Athtar, the Emperor of the High Elven empire.

"We have a new candidate," Athtar replied, causing Amnur to nearly lose focus and set everything in the room aflame. When he was not in his forge, then he needed to constantly keep the heat he generated contained.

"You're joking, right?" Amnur asked, the news too shocking to accept. Generally, invasions were the time when candidates would spring up like wildflowers, but that is after a few years. When most kingdoms below Tier 2 have been lost.

Those holding out by then had a reason they could, and generally, that was thanks to a candidate. Most of who would die, but still each candidate was extremely important.

"I'm not, I'll send you the message. It's more shocking the more you learn." Athtar replied, recalling what Asteria had sent him and sharing it with Amnur.

A candidate has arrised, this one more peculiar than any other. Athtar I know you do not like meddling with candidates, but this one is a Chosen. A High Elf, nonetheless.

He might not be from your line, nor your empire, but he is a good kid. He is also just Tier 2, yet he already has started unlocking magic itself. His candidacy is due to him managing to modify a spell, without any guidance or teachings. Purely by himself, and some general tips.

You should know what all this means, they have not been here for long. I believe this is the fourth month come since their arrival. You must know the peculiarity of a High Elf managing to learn magic, and to such a degree, in such a short time.

I will admit that his body is different, to sustain his avatar in this world, we had to give him a static mana flow to start. This should have made things even harder, yet he found a workaround. A way to alter his mana, at such an early point.

As such I implore you, even if you do not wish to take him in as a disciple, at least protect him from the other side. My brothers and sisters wish to see chaos, we cannot allow it. Every addition to our ranks is a great addition indeed.

After listening to this, Amnur stared at Athtar without words. After a few minutes, he simply mumbled, "You have to be joking."

"I thought so too. Yet I have since gotten similar messages from Skepsi and Mosfaria. You should soon get..." Athtar stopped as he recognized that blank look. After a few seconds, he saw Amnur looking at him with even more shock.

"Since when do so many gods send messages?" Amnur asked, recalling that his advent had only stirred Dioktis. Athtar was the only case where three gods had been stirred, yet now it was already four that they knew of.

"They don't, it is peculiar. Generally, only the god interested in his field will contact us, it can't be that he is a candidate for four fields?"

"And he is in Taurus. Why does it feel like we are being played by fate." Amnur mumbled, thinking of the last conversation he had with Athtar. In thinking of this, he also thought of his grief, briefly becoming silent.

"What do you think we should do about this?" Amnur asked after taking out Gindelis to console himself. "And that guy uses a spear, how the hell does that happen." He asked, softly running his fingers over the shaft.

The spear currently looked extremely normal, just a normal spear. Having no decorations, nor runes. A spear that any half-decent blacksmith can forge. A wooden shaft with a metal spearhead, nothing more. Yet both men here knew just how strong it was.

"We do what we always do. We protect them from enemies they cannot handle, while not directly interfering. You know that a candidate who is taken in by another almost never manages to actually succeed."

"They are a candidate since they have chosen a path. A path they must follow, be it to their death... Or their rebirth." Athtar continued.

"I trust I can ask you to ensure this, Amnur Farnir."

"Of course. I do not need to urgently be somewhere, so staying a bit with my kin in Taurus should be fine. My presence should stop the emperors from acting, while I can send the abyssal guards to watch over him for troublesome enemies."

"Do you still have control over the abyssal guards?" Athtar asked with true curiosity. It was a unit of dwarven soldiers present in nearly every dwarven kingdom. Generally, they were self-ruled, only acting along with a king if they feel it is what must be done.

"Of course, who do you think forges their armor and weapons. Not many people can even attempt to copy them. It is why each one of them is equal to a mythic beast of the same rank. As you well know."

"Yes, they are always an astonishing force to behold." Athtar agreed, there was nearly no other group of soldiers as strong as them. While each of these dwarves on their own might just be capable of contending against a genius, together they form a nearly unstoppable force.

Not to mention to be a candidate for the abyssal guards, you need to be at least Tier 8. As such those in the unit are all generally geniuses.

Compared to them no other nation has a force that cohesive and powerful. Even Athtar's royal guards fell short. Sure they were also amazingly strong, but each of them was only equal to an Ancient beast. The captains' generally equal to a Mythic. The gap was massive.

"That should suffice, however, how would they protect him. They can't babysit him." Athtar questioned.

"Of course not, the armor itself is quite capable of making them decent assassins. They will follow him from the dark and only intervene when it is needed. He is a Chosen, so this is in fact easier than normal. They can even let him die, just not too certain enemies."

Athtar agreed with this notion, his curiosity of the Chosen growing greatly. If they could resurrect so assuredly, then they would be a great addition. While there were methods to try and guard your soul, there were also methods of destroying it past the guarding.

...

"Brother!" A much younger dwarf than Boran, shouted as Boran entered the fields of the manor. Turning to look at the dwarf with barely any beard Boran smiled, however, his younger brother just stared at his arm.

"Brother, what happened? Did you find a great treasure?" The dwarf asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Smiling at the energy his little brother delivered, Boran ruffled his hair, "No Thirit, I did not get a great treasure. I did not go out into the world in search of one remember."

"Then why did you leave for so long?" Thirit asked, quickly become despondent.

"To learn what there is outside of our mountains. To learn what the other races are like." Boran replied, continuing his walk towards the mansion.

As he walked Thirit would keep throwing questions at him like a child; not like a dwarf of nearly eighty years.

Upon entering the mansion Boran could feel the heavy atmosphere inside. Heading straight for the main hall, Boran saw his mother and sister silently sitting by a shield and axe.

"Mother... Torunn." Boran paused after calling to them, taking a seat, he just stared at the shield and axe. After nearly five minutes he finally asked, "Who is leading the armies?"

Boran had expected that Thirit would take up the command, however, his being greeted by him earlier made it clear that was not what had happened. Having experienced Thirit's childlikeness he also understood why.

"Uncle Gotmen is currently holding the town of Vighyar. However, more and more kobolds and goblins are surfacing. Giryar has fallen..." His sister, Torunn, replied. Her voice breaking as she said the last.

"Thargeck died fighting there, along with Salear." Saying this she started crying again, Boran quickly moving over to console her.

"I am sorry, I know you were close." However, upon saying this Boran realized something else, his sister had a ring. Beautifully crafted, clearly a dimensional storage but also an engagement ring.

Not saying anything he just took her into his embrace, letting her cry. After a few minutes she calmed down and Boran stood up, taking his brother's axe as he did. Seeing this the two women wanted to protest, but seeing his determination they stopped.

"Thirit, get me an Abaraxs." Boran said, turning to the forge while he waited. There he quickly added a stip of divine mithril to the edge of the axe. His brother had long since returned, and simply stared in awe as Boran worked.

Boran started by not heating the divine mithril, but rather by cooling it. At the same time, he heated the tip of the axe. Using magic for the former and the fire blazing in the forge for the latter.

He then carefully placed the thin piece of mithril on the edge, a sizzling sound ensuing as he did. While working the metal, Boran's right arm would glow brighter and brighter, soon almost equalling the brightness of the fire.

It was at this point where the two metals seemed to meld. Instead of laying over the edge, the divine metal became part of it. Converting the adamant it was made of into a new kind of metal. An alloy never before seen.