Departure

[ Name: Ren Arken

Age: 14

Race: Human

Strength: 30

Agility: 2000

Vitality: 200

Mana: ~~~

Spiritual: ~~~

Intellect: 1, 000

Unique Skills:

-magic cards -appraisal -evil gaze -strengthen -leap -basic magics -fire magic -Fire Archmagic -illusion magic -water magic -light magic -nature magic -Grimoire of death -Real Clone [Heavenly Slime] -Eye of Wisdom ]

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Necromancer

In the forgotten annals of arcane lore, necromancy stands as a forbidden art, shrouded in whispers and shadows. It is the communion with the departed, a dance with death itself, where the boundary between the living and the dead becomes blurred by the sorcerer's will.

Once, in the distant echoes of history, necromancers wielded their dark arts with impunity, delving into realms forbidden to mortal minds. Through their twisted incantations, they summoned specters from the ethereal depths or defied the very laws of nature to raise the deceased from their slumber. Their purposes varied, from divining the threads of fate to seeking forbidden knowledge buried in the sepulchers of time.

But such power was not without consequence. With each incantation uttered and each corpse raised, the balance of life and death trembled, threatening to plunge the world into chaos. It was in the crucible of the last great war, where demons and mortals clashed in a cataclysmic struggle, that the full extent of necromancy's peril became evident.

In the aftermath of that harrowing conflict, the scourge of necromancy was deemed too dangerous to persist. Those who dared to dabble in its forbidden rites were hunted down, their blackened souls condemned to the gallows or the pyre. The knowledge of necromancy was purged from the annals of academia, relegated to the darkest corners of history as a cautionary tale of hubris and folly.

Yet, despite the passage of centuries and the fading memories of the past, whispers of necromancy still linger like ghosts in the night. In hushed tones, tales are spun of hidden tomes and forbidden rituals, tantalizing the curious and tempting the desperate with promises of power beyond reckoning.

-World history of Grandaria, Grandaria library, Grandaria capital

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With the decision set in stone, the tribal leaders huddled together, their brows furrowed in contemplation. For three hours, they hashed out the best approach to divulge Oz's true identity to the tribe and present him as their chosen king. It was an unprecedented move, one that required delicate handling.

Eventually, they reached a consensus: they would reveal Oz's human form to the tribe and seek their input on this monumental decision. Despite their usual deference to authority, they believed in the importance of transparency and inclusivity.

Deciding against lengthy planning, they dispersed after the meeting, eager to rest before the big announcement at dawn. The night air was pregnant with anticipation, a palpable energy that lingered in every corner of the village.

As the first light of dawn painted the sky, the tribe gathered outside Aegir's house, the heart of their community. Excitement buzzed through the crowd, but it was quickly tempered by shock when Oz stepped forward and confessed his true nature.

"Forgive me for deceiving you. I'm not a goblin. I'm actually human," Oz admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I have no excuses for keeping this from you, and I understand if you feel betrayed."

His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, one by one, voices rose from the crowd.

"It doesn't matter what you look like, Ren. You've always been one of us," declared a goblin who had fought alongside Oz in the recent war.

"Yeah, Ren! We don't care about that stuff," chimed in another, a smile lighting up their face.

In a heartwarming display of unity, the tribe rallied around Oz, offering forgiveness and acceptance. But amidst the chorus of support, one figure slipped away unnoticed—Geeta, her expression unreadable as she disappeared into the crowd.

"Geeta..." he murmured softly, a silent plea for understanding lingering in the air.

As Oz's heart raced with the urge to chase after Geeta, his momentum was abruptly halted by Aegir's booming voice.

"And in light of our decision to ascend as a kingdom, the executives have deemed it fitting to crown the most powerful, wise, and sagacious among us!"

"We choose Ren!"

"Do all of you agree to crown Ren as our king?!" Aegir's voice reverberated through the throng.

"Yes!!!!!!" The thunderous response echoed in unison, shaking the very ground beneath them.

"Then, as we prepare to declare ourselves a sovereign nation, we shall crown Ren as our king, the ruler of Tarot Kingdom! Hail to our king!"

"""Hail to our king!!!!!"""

The collective salutation echoed through the assembly, a resounding declaration of loyalty and support for Oz.

Amidst the cacophony of cheers, Oz felt his heartbeat quicken, a symphony of nerves thrumming beneath his skin. Fear gnawed at his core, the weight of responsibility bearing down upon him like an iron shackle.

Taptaptap

A gentle tap on his shoulder drew his attention, and he turned to find Aegir, his reassuring smile a beacon of encouragement amidst the tumult.

"Relax, Ren. We're all behind you," Aegir's words were a balm to Oz's frayed nerves, instilling a newfound resolve within him.

"Attention! Our newly appointed king has a few words to share! Show some respect!" Aegir's authoritative command silenced the crowd instantly.

For a fleeting moment, Oz's mind swirled with disbelief. (No one prepared me for this!)

"Hello, everyone..."

Straightening his posture, Oz drew a steadying breath, his voice steady despite the tempest of emotions roiling within him.

"I am deeply honored by your trust in me as your king. Your unwavering faith humbles me, and I accept this responsibility with utmost dedication."

"In addition to your support, I have an important announcement to make. While our numbers may not yet warrant the title of kingdom, the impending threat of demon invasion presents an opportunity for us to unite with other races in solidarity."

"As your king, I pledge to embark on a journey to seek out allies in need and to secure vital resources from the territories of humanity."

"We hear and obey! Hail to the king!" Aegir's proclamation was met with a fervent chorus of affirmation from the crowd, their voices ringing out in unison.

As the assembly concluded with Oz's acceptance of his newfound role and his plans for departure, the tribe members dispersed to resume their daily routines, their minds abuzz with the weight of their king's impending journey. Meanwhile, within the confines of Aegir's abode, the executives reconvened to strategize for the future.

"Just as I mentioned before, I'll be embarking on this journey. With the looming threat of a demon onslaught, we must bolster our defenses," Oz began, his tone laced with solemnity. "Fedra, Ibra, Gurolf, and Brad, I entrust the task of enhancing our military capabilities. Train our soldiers diligently, for we must be prepared for whatever may come."

"Aegir and Magra, your charge is to oversee the affairs of our tribe. Safeguard our community and extend our hand to any in need. We cannot predict when we may require assistance ourselves," Oz continued, his directives firm and resolute.

"When do you plan to return?" Surprisingly, the inquiry came not from the typically impassioned Aegir or Fedra, but from Gurolf.

A faint smile graced Oz's lips as he regarded Gurolf. "Approximately three years, though I will endeavor to maintain communication with all of you. Rest assured, I'll find a way to stay in touch," he reassured them with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Who said we'd miss you, huh?" Aegir interjected, his attempt at levity failing to mask the genuine emotion in his voice.

With his preparations complete, Oz made ready to bid farewell. However, his departure attire left much to be desired, prompting a surprise intervention from Gina, who appeared with a bundle of provisions and a set of sturdy garments.

"Geeta prepared these for you upon hearing of your journey. She's not angry, just needing time to process," Gina whispered to Oz, her eyes reflecting her understanding.

Grateful for Geeta's thoughtfulness, Oz also entrusted Gina with a letter for her, a small token of his appreciation and affection.

With a heavy heart, Oz bid his comrades farewell, teasing Aegir and sharing a laugh amidst the bittersweet parting.

As Oz stepped beyond the tribe's gate, the weight of his departure settled upon the hearts of his people. Yet, they found solace in the knowledge that their king embarked on this journey to forge new bonds and secure their future.

Watching his figure recede into the distance, they resumed their activities with a sense of purpose, knowing that their king would return when needed.

And so, with a wistful sigh, Oz set forth on his path toward the Grandaria Kingdom, his heart heavy with both anticipation and longing for the home he left behind.