Jason had been practicing with a wooden sword for hours on end. General Reven had given him numerous pointers yesterday, even remarking that Jason was a natural with a blade.
"You need to rest, Champion," General Reven called out from the side of the training yard.
"I'll stop when I hit one hundred with each pose," Jason replied, his voice carrying across the dusty practice ground.
His entire body ached, but Jason knew that if he took even a few minutes to rest, his muscles would relax and the pain would subside. High Priest Alaric had explained this was part of Jason's blessing—quick recovery that bordered on miraculous.
That morning, Jason had spent several hours sequestered in the library with Alaric, Selene, Pryce, and a new addition to his growing circle of advisors—Healer Thalia. Alaric had encouraged Jason to drop the formal titles from their names; no more "Lady," "Master," and so on. It made communication considerably easier.
Healer Thalia was perhaps the most unusual of his new acquaintances. She displayed an intense fascination with medicine and health practices. She had peppered Jason with questions about healing methods from his world.
"I don't know everything," Jason had told her, "but we have technologies that can scan inside the body to see what's happening, and many other treatments."
Alaric had eventually steered the conversation back to history and magic lessons. Surprisingly, magic came naturally to Jason. He discovered he could manipulate light itself—forming weapons and shields from pure golden radiance. This light could even heal significant wounds and repair damaged objects. While not instantaneous, Alaric had explained that no one had demonstrated such profound magical ability before Jason's arrival.
Selene had focused on teaching him about the realm's history. Although Jason could speak the local language fluently—another gift from the Goddess—he couldn't read it. Pryce had volunteered to help with that, saying he could teach Jason in the map room, allowing him to remain near his "baby." The cartographer's attachment to the living map was endearing, if slightly obsessive.
This arrangement meant Lady Selene had to read the ancient scrolls aloud to Jason.
According to her, humans and demons once coexisted peacefully. Then, without warning, the Demon King had attempted to murder his Queen. The Goddess had given the Queen a special dagger for protection. Against all odds, the Queen had succeeded in killing the Demon King. His body was said to have been cast into the ocean depths.
Jason found himself wondering: if the Demon King's body had been thrown into the sea, how could it have returned? In his world, saltwater accelerated decomposition rather than preserving remains. But he'd kept these thoughts to himself. This was an entirely different realm—even its fundamental physics might operate differently. These were questions for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on his combat training for the upcoming expedition, not historical mysteries.
He had listened attentively as Lady Selene continued reading from the scrolls, occasionally asking questions to ensure he was following along.
"The Queen became the sole ruler after the betrayal. She felt so deeply betrayed that she commanded her armies to eliminate all demons," Lady Selene had explained, looking up from the ancient text to meet Jason's gaze. "Every historical account we possess indicates that the demons launched coordinated attacks against human settlements when the Demon King attempted to murder his Queen. We believe he must have orchestrated a massive conspiracy with demonkind."
Selene had rolled up the scroll, returning it to its place on the bookshelf. "When these events unfolded, the great Goddess bestowed blessings upon humanity to protect us and fight against the demons."
Standing before him, she had continued with reverence in her voice, "It was a dark period for humankind. The demons we had trusted betrayed us completely. Now, the Demon God has stripped away our blessings, but once again, the Goddess has provided salvation."
She had gestured toward him with unmistakable meaning. "You, Champion."
These words echoed repeatedly through Jason's mind as he swung his wooden sword through the evening air, each movement more precise than the last.
As Jason finished his practice with the wooden sword, he decided to attempt something he suspected might be possible.
Concentrating deeply, he channeled his magic, allowing golden light to flow around the wooden training blade. The weapon began to glow with increasing intensity.
General Reven noticed the sudden illumination from his seat on a bench at the edge of the dirt training field. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the brilliance but remained focused on Jason, curious what the Champion was attempting.
Jason raised the now-radiant wooden sword overhead, pouring his strength into a powerful downward strike. The blade sliced through the air with a sound like thunder.
When Jason finally recalled his magic, allowing the energy to flow back into himself, only the ordinary wooden sword remained in his hands. But the aftermath of that single swing left both him and General Reven staring in astonishment.
In the wake of Jason's stunned expression, General Reven erupted with a booming laugh that carried far beyond the training field's boundaries.
"My boy," the general called out between fits of laughter, "I'm exceedingly grateful you swung that sword toward the open field rather than the buildings!"
Jason's single downward strike hadn't merely left a gouge in the dirt—it had carved a massive furrow extending nearly a mile across the landscape. Trees along the path lay toppled like matchsticks. The ten-foot stone wall that had marked the training yard's boundary was reduced to nothing but dust scattered across the ground. It was the most devastating display of power Jason had ever witnessed in real life—and he had been the cause.
Jason looked down at the simple wooden sword in his hand, then traced his gaze along the path of destruction before turning back to General Reven with a sheepish grin.
"Perhaps I should moderate my strength during practice," he offered, his tone apologetic despite the remarkable achievement.
-----
Later that night, the temple staff arranged a proper dinner to formally welcome Jason.
Jason had taken a quick bath to wash away the dirt and sweat from his long day of training. His muscles and bones already felt remarkably better—another benefit of the Goddess's blessing. Refreshed and cleaned, he was adjusting his formal attire when a young man approximately his own age arrived at his chambers.
"Hero, the dinner is ready. I will guide you to the dining hall," the young man announced with a respectful bow.
"Okay, thank you... um," Jason replied, pausing expectantly for an introduction.
"Oh, sir! My name is Acolyte Tomas," the young man said, suddenly realizing his oversight. "You may call me Tomas, if you prefer."
Jason realized something peculiar—no one had asked for his real name, nor had he felt compelled to share it until now. The observation struck him as odd when it first crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Perhaps it had something to do with his status as a champion summoned from another world. In this realm, his identity as "the Hero" seemed to supersede any need for a personal name.
For the first time since his arrival, Jason felt a genuine desire to share his own name. The impulse surprised him—this simple human connection felt important amid all the grandeur and ceremony.
"My name is Jason Miller, by the way," he offered. "Please, call me Jason."
Tomas's face brightened with a smile. "I will call you Jason, then." He pulled the door fully open with a flourish. "Now, if you'll follow me, Jason."
Despite his modest height, Tomas moved with remarkable speed through the corridors, but Jason easily kept pace thanks to his longer stride. As they walked, Jason felt a small but meaningful shift—in Tomas's eyes, he wasn't just the Champion or Hero, but a person with a name.
As they continued walking, Jason realized he wasn't familiar with this part of the complex.
The entire settlement was constructed in an unusual manner. The castle, church, armory, and library all existed as distinct structures yet connected as one massive building—reminiscent of a sprawling high school or compact college campus. It contained countless rooms and corridors, with each major section serving a different function. Though there were other buildings throughout the settlement, Jason had yet to explore them. Until now, he had taken most of his meals in his private chambers, except for lunch, which he typically ate in the library before heading to the training grounds. Despite being on opposite sides of the complex, only two long hallways separated these locations. Navigation was surprisingly intuitive; the layout, though expansive, was more straightforward than his college campus back home.
Surrounding all the main buildings stood a massive wall—part of which Jason had accidentally destroyed earlier during training. From the front of the central building—the castle, which more closely resembled a grand mansion—the townspeople's homes radiated outward in a carefully planned pattern, like a hand fan. It seemed designed so the king could survey his entire domain from a single window. The arrangement differed considerably from what Jason had expected.
The corridor Jason and Tomas now traversed lay off to the right of the main castle building. They approached a large door left partially open—wide enough to permit entry but narrow enough to block strong winds. Delicious aromas wafted through the opening, accompanied by the pleasant rumble of many voices in conversation.
Tomas entered first, with Jason following close behind.
The sight that greeted him was astonishing. Two immense tables stretched the length of the hall, flanked by countless chairs, all occupied by a diverse assembly. Some attendees wore armor, others were dressed in formal robes, but most were attired in the fine clothing of nobility. Between the tables ran what appeared to be a long red carpet.
When Jason stepped onto it, he discovered it wasn't fabric at all but rather a thin section of stone, carefully polished and colored. The material choice made practical sense—far easier to clean than fabric if food or wine were spilled during feasts.
As they proceeded down the aisle, Jason examined the tables more closely. Each appeared to be crafted from a single, continuous piece of wood. He found himself wondering about the forests of this realm—what manner of trees grew large enough to produce such enormous slabs? Both tables extended roughly half the length of a football field—an impressive feat of craftsmanship.
As they approached the front of the hall, the conversations gradually quieted. Tomas stopped, bowed deeply, and announced, "My King, the Champion has arrived."
Jason noticed that King Thaddeus sat at a shorter table elevated on a platform above the others. He realized the pattern now—everything in the kingdom seemed designed to give the monarch optimal visibility, from the arrangement of the town to this very dining hall.
"Champion, come and join us," King Thaddeus called, gesturing to an empty chair at his left. "For tomorrow you march out."
As Jason circled around to take his seat, King Thaddeus raised his wine glass. "To the Champion and to the Goddess who sent him to us!" the king proclaimed to the assembled crowd before taking a measured sip and returning to his seat.
"To the Champion!" the gathering echoed, raising their glasses in unison.
Jason observed that the soldiers—men and women in armor—cheered with particular enthusiasm, their laughter boisterous and unrestrained. Those seated closer to Jason and the king maintained a more subdued demeanor, engaging in quiet conversation.
Glancing back, Jason noticed Tomas standing behind his chair. In fact, there appeared to be as many attendants standing along the walls as there were seated guests.
"Hey, Tomas, sit by me," Jason called, waving him over.
Tomas looked utterly bewildered. He pointed to himself as if confirming Jason couldn't possibly be addressing anyone else.
"Yes, you. Sit down. Let's get you a chair," Jason said, looking around for assistance.
King Thaddeus, noticing the exchange, intervened. "Dara, fetch a chair for young Tomas to sit beside the Champion. They appear to be of similar age."
A woman with her hair arranged in a high bun hurried away, returning promptly with another chair. Though not as ornate as Jason's, it was serviceable.
Tomas thanked her, Jason, and the king with obvious discomfort before slowly lowering himself into the seat.
The young acolyte looked thoroughly uncomfortable with this unexpected elevation in status. As a mere servant, being invited to sit among the nobility—and beside the Champion, no less—was beyond anything he had ever imagined. Yet Jason had taken a liking to him, and that simple human connection had temporarily rewritten the rules of protocol.
As they ate and drank, multiple conversations flowed around the hall. Jason caught fragments of various discussions, but he found himself more engaged with Tomas and their developing conversation. Even King Thaddeus joined in, and it quickly became apparent that Tomas possessed a surprisingly sharp wit.
The longer their conversation continued, the more people were drawn into their circle. Tomas proved to be not only funny but also a gifted storyteller.
About an hour into the dinner, Tomas rose to his feet—clearly quite drunk—and launched into an enthralling tale about a demon who fell in love with a human. When the demon attempted to claim the woman for himself, a brave prince rescued her. Though it followed the basic structure of a familiar fairy tale, Tomas's animated delivery transformed it into something captivating and fresh.
After Tomas concluded his performance to enthusiastic applause, a man named Lord Dominic leaned forward with genuine admiration. "You could make a living as a storyteller or writer with skills like that," he told the young acolyte warmly.
Lord Dominic appeared surprisingly young for someone bearing such a title. His short brown hair was tied back neatly, which only emphasized his youthful features, yet his green eyes carried the weariness of someone decades older. It was difficult for Jason to determine his actual age from his current vantage point. Based on fragments of conversation Jason had overheard, Dominic seemed to serve as some sort of resource manager for the kingdom—a role Jason would have to inquire about when they had a chance to meet properly.
All this time, Jason had been under the impression that this dinner was supposed to be a formal meet-and-greet for him, but it had evolved into something far more lively. Groups of increasingly intoxicated guests told tales, engaged in heated arguments, cheered on one fist fight that sparked a flurry of betting, or sang heartily to familiar drinking songs.
Jason found himself smiling so much that his cheeks ached from the sustained effort.
The fact that only Jason was drinking water hadn't escaped his notice. Everyone else was consuming wine or some other alcoholic beverage, including people who appeared to be in their teens. The drinking age here was clearly different from his world.
Most of the nobles had eventually invited their servants to join the festivities rather than simply standing behind their chairs. This gesture of inclusion made Jason smile even more.
After two hours, Jason felt exhaustion setting in from his long day. Between studying, sword practice, and this unexpectedly energetic dinner that had caused him to laugh more than he had in months, he was thoroughly drained.
Jason finally excused himself when Tomas hurried toward a side door—clearly heading for the bathrooms to be sick.
When Jason followed to help, something he was accustomed to doing for his college teammates, he found Tomas already passed out on the floor. Jason let out a small chuckle at the familiar sight.
He lifted Tomas from the floor, surprised by how light the young man was—or perhaps Jason had grown stronger during his time here.
As Jason carried his unconscious friend back through the dining hall, he noticed that the soldiers' side of the gathering had devolved into even more raucous celebration than the nobles' section.
Everyone who saw him carrying the passed-out Tomas simply pointed, laughed, nodded knowingly, and returned to their drinking.
The walk back to his chambers seemed to take forever, with Tomas growing heavier with each step. When they finally arrived, Jason practically threw Tomas onto his own bed, then struggled to remove the young man's shoes—a task that took far longer than it should have.
"Cursed laces," Jason muttered, tossing the troublesome footwear aside.
Too tired to properly undress, Jason simply rolled onto the large couch positioned near his bed.
As he settled in and looked up at the ceiling, Jason realized this dinner had reminded him of family gatherings back home.
During high school, Jason had always invited at least one friend over for dinner each night, sometimes including his sister's friends as well. His mother would prepare elaborate meals that never failed to impress. Everyone would laugh and share stories, while his parents would engage in their characteristic mock arguments—usually about whether the dinner rolls were prepared correctly.
Jason's father took his bread very seriously, which inevitably made everyone else at the table laugh. Jason had eventually realized that sometimes his mother would deliberately prepare the rolls slightly wrong just to provoke these harmless disputes, though she'd always fix them once the laughter died down.
His parents' love for each other had been evident even in these small disagreements, which rarely lasted more than a few minutes. Jason couldn't recall them ever having a serious argument—it was always about rolls, proper shoe placement, or similarly trivial matters.
Everything about tonight's dinner had evoked those cherished memories. The warmth, the laughter, the sense of belonging—it all made him feel slightly homesick. But he couldn't afford to dwell on personal feelings when an entire world depended on him.
With that sobering reminder, Jason's eyes finally closed, and he drifted into peaceful sleep.