Chapter 6. When You Die Here, You Die On Your Real Life

"You must be surprised to see all this." The figure of His Highness next to the Nordic started to speak. "I purposely brought you here to tell you something important, and only I can tell you."

The Nordic turned towards the figure of His Highness. "What are these statues, Your Majesty?"

In the middle of the room, parallel to the two statues on either side, His Majesty's figure stopped. The Nordic step spontaneously stopped as well.

"In the past, in this country there were six clans that had relations with each other. The relations were very close and they often fought whenever evil magic attacked. They were all leaders of their respective clans," explained the figure of His Highness.

No reply from Nordic yet. He intensely watched each statue on his right and left.

"You know who the first statue on the left is. When you get to the lobby, you're greeted by Maglier, right?" asked His Majesty.

Nordic nodded his head without taking his eyes off the statue in question. If you pay attention, the statue is wearing the same clothes and hat as Maglier. It's just that in the hands of the statue is holding a sword, while Maglier is not.

"His name is Jordhan Alatas, leader of the Saxiest Wood Mage clan."

Oh! Nordic remembers something. "I read the name on the registration form in the group selecting column."

His Highness' figure chuckled with a brief nod.

"That's right. He is the leader of the Saxiest Wood Mage clan. The six group names you read on the registration form are the names of the clans, each of them having a leader that keeps changing over the course of a century."

The Nordic frowned. "A century?"

His Majesty nodded his head. "The clan leader changes every century," he replied, slightly surprising the Nordics. "The Saxiest Wood Mage Clan, if you look at it now, it might only look like Bellboy. But a long time ago, just like the description on the registration form, that clan was at the forefront because of their invulnerability. To the extent that their clan was nicknamed 'eternal age'."

"Same as the Eternal Fire Dragon Mage's clan?" guessed the Nordic then.

His Highness nodded again in agreement. "True. However, they're not truly immortal. They're just hard to attack because their immunity is like solid wood."

"That's why they are called Wood Mage," said the Nordic muttered.

After explaining about the Saxiest Wood Mage, His Highness' figure then changed the conversation.

"If the center statue is on your left, Eternal Fire Dragon Mage clan leader." His Majesty's figure pointed at the center statue on the left Nordic side.

The Nordic gaze turned to the statue to which His Majesty's figure was pointing. The second statue on the left is of a person riding a dragon. There was a sword that was brandished so gallantly with a face full of anger.

"His name is Xander Grisson. The Eternal Fire Dragon Mage Clan is one of the strongest clans. As you can see from the statue, they are ambitious and love to fight. Whenever a vicious magic takes over the land, they become the second garrison behind the Gods of Mage Clan. "

"Gods of Mage?" muttered Nordic once again.

As His Highness' figure heard the Nordic muttering voice, he then said, "Yes, the clan group you chose. Your destiny."

Wait. Nordic simply couldn't understand what the figure of His Highness was saying. Since just now, His Majesty's few sentences of explanation were ambiguous.

"What do you mean my destiny?" asked Nordic.

"Everyone who comes to Sojourn of Souls is predestined which clan they will join. When you choose your party on the registration form, you will definitely still choose the clan that is your destiny. Even if you don't hear Eglar's whispering voice telling you not to choose the top two group. "

Nordic was a little stunned when he heard the last sentence of His Majesty's words. His Highness grinned as if he was hinting that he knew.

Finally Nordic just smiled awkwardly.

"Yes ... he did whisper to me that," said Nordic. "How do you know?"

"I always know everyone, thing, or whatever is going on here, Nordic."

'Even he already knows my name,' thought Nordic, who immediately shrank. 'Is he some kind of god in the human world?'

"I also already know the destiny of every creature that comes to this place." His Majesty gave a confession. "Including your destiny to become part of the Gods of Mage. Do you know that you are the descendant of the Gods of Mage?"

The look on Nordic's face immediately changed to surprise. He flinched for a split second, then laughed in disbelief.

"No way. How come I am the descendant of the Gods of Mage clan leader?" asked Nordic in between his awkward laughs.

"Why don't you believe it?" asked the figure of His Highness. The direction of his gaze shifted to the statue on the right. "Over there, the statue of Mayer Rokylante, leader of the Gods of Mage clan. The only statue that only holds a sword weapon, because members of the Gods of Mage clan who reach the highest level of power can paralyze opponents with just a glance."

Slightly flabbergasted, Nordic muttered, "Just by his gaze...."

"That's right. You are of the line, Nordic."

"Then how come I don't know him?" Nordic asked His Highness. His face looked curious.

"Do you know what year Mayer lived? He lived a century ago, and you descend from a century after his heyday."

Centennial lineage? What is this figure saying?

Nordic laughed again sarcastically while shaking his head. "Impossible. That sounds impossible. I mean... I just came," he answered evasively.

"Too bad..." His Highness exhaled quietly. "No matter how evasive you are, you are still a descendant of Mayer Rokylante. As I said earlier, every century there will be a change of leadership for each clan. So, you are the one who replaced your great-grandfather."

The Nordic gaze remained astonished at the Mayer Rokylante statue that was now in front of it. The statue in the shape of a man stood straight, arching a smile while holding a sword, There was no ferocious look on his face like the statues of other clan leaders.

"Why is he holding a sword? What kind of mage is he?" asked Nordic.

His Majesty was silent for a moment. "The Mage who rules over all power, that's why it's called Gods of Mage. He has the power of the other five clans."

"No wonder," commented the Nordic. Hearing that, it felt even more impossible that he was indeed a descendant of Mayer Rokylante. Even if he was in another dimension—this was too unreasonable. "No wonder the explanation on the registration form says the Gods of Mage clan is dangerous."

"Yes, that's right. But unfortunately the training they went through was more dangerous than the training of other mage clans," His Highness explained. "You will go through the training tomorrow."

The Nordic gaze turned to His Highness. "Should I?"

His Majesty nodded his head. "Yes, they must. Every being that comes to the House of Souls must undergo training until they meet their respective destiny."

"Actually this Soul House is just a stopover between the realms of death and life. After they carry out the training within the stipulated time, they will meet two paths: either meet a peaceful death, or return to living life."

"The choice was given by whom?" asked Nordic. "What determines ends meet death or live again."

"Gods, of course. Power is above me," His Majesty replied.

'Ah, it turns out he's not a God. Then how come he knows my name and everything that happened here?' thought Nordic still amazed.

"How long did the training last?" Nordic tries to change the conversation.

"Depends," His Majesty replied. "They must reach the highest level. If they can reach it quickly, then the sooner their end of life will be given."

"What if before the set time, they're dead? In battle... maybe?"

"Have you read about war?" His Highness chuckled, being answered with an awkward nod by Nordic. "About that... unfortunately, they will also die in their waking lives."

Somehow that explanation made Nordic feel uneasy. Nordic just nodded his head in understanding.

“Ah… I understand now,” replied the Nordic in a low voice. "That will also happen to me?"

His Highness looked at Nordic in confusion, as if questioning his question.

"Ah, I mean, just in case I deserve to be Mayer's descendant."

"Yes, the same can be said for you."

Nordic immediately grinned. To imagine that his life here would determine his real life, it was terrifying. Nothing is more scary than death.

"So, you do your best not to die," His Majesty replied.

All of the Nordic hairs suddenly prickled. Did he really bear this big responsibility?