Requiem of the Abyss & The Dawn's Call

9 – The Selection Begins

The air inside the Grand Guild Hall was thick with tension. The surviving recruits stood in silence, their bodies aching from the trials, yet their minds sharper than ever. This was the moment that would decide their future.

Before them, seated on a raised platform, were the captains of the four great guilds. These were not ordinary warriors; they were legends in their own right, each one responsible for shaping the next generation of fighters, mages, and adventurers.

Elias stood among the recruits, his posture relaxed but his senses heightened. Around him, whispers spread—some hopeful, others uncertain.

Not everyone would be chosen. Some would walk out of here as members of a guild. Others would walk out with nothing.

At the front of the platform, one of the captains rose.

A man clad in black-and-red armor, his sheer presence suffocating, stepped forward. His gaze swept over the recruits like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Most of you survived," he said, his voice deep and unyielding. "But survival alone means nothing. If you lack the resolve to kill when necessary, you're useless to me."

Several recruits tensed. Others stood a little straighter, as if trying to prove their worth just by standing still.

Beside him, a woman in ornate white-and-gold armor, the emblem of the Holy Dominion displayed across her chest, regarded the recruits with a serene yet calculating expression.

"Strength is a gift," she said. "But strength without purpose is nothing more than untempered chaos. Those chosen today must serve not only themselves, but the world."

Elias barely paid attention to her words. He was too aware of the priests sitting further back, watching the selection unfold.

Were they still suspicious of him? Had they sensed something during the trials?

Another captain, a man draped in a silver-lined cloak, leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp but unreadable. Unlike the others, he said nothing—simply watching, calculating.

Then, the selections began.

One by one, the captains made their choices.

The black-and-red armored warrior pointed to a hulking recruit with a war axe. "You. Step forward. You're mine now."

The Holy Dominion captain selected a priest-in-training and a disciplined young knight—both of whom had excelled in the survival trial.

Another guild leader, cloaked in deep obsidian robes, selected a recruit whose speed and precision had stood out in battle.

The tension in the hall grew as more names were called, yet many still stood in uncertainty.

Then, the silver-feathered captain stood.

He didn't immediately speak. Instead, his gaze swept across the room, as if searching for something.

And then—his eyes locked onto Elias.

"You."

The word was spoken without hesitation.

Elias felt every set of eyes turn toward him, yet he didn't react—he simply met the captain's gaze, unreadable and calm.

"Step forward."

Elias is Chosen

Elias stepped out of the line, ignoring the murmurs that followed.

The captain studied him for a moment, then spoke again.

"You don't use magic."

It wasn't a question.

Elias remained silent. He could use magic—he just couldn't afford to.

"You rely on skill, instinct, and Ethrion-infused weapons," the captain continued, his voice thoughtful.

Again, Elias didn't answer.

A long pause. Then—

"I don't take in recruits who need to be saved. I take in those who learn to survive on their own."

Elias finally spoke, his voice even. "Then it seems you made the right choice."

For the first time, the captain's lips curled into the faintest smirk. He turned away, addressing the hall once more.

"Silver Hawks claim this one."

And just like that, Elias had been chosen.

Once the selection process ended, the newly chosen recruits were led into a smaller chamber within the Grand Guild Hall, where guild officers prepared final registrations.

Elias stood off to the side, still processing what had just happened. He hadn't expected to be chosen so quickly.

Then, a voice beside him broke the silence.

"You surprised them."

Elias turned to see the same captain who had chosen him, standing with arms crossed, his sharp gaze unreadable.

"You didn't hesitate. Didn't question my decision. Most recruits would have looked uncertain, maybe even proud. But you—nothing. No reaction."

Elias met his stare. "Would it have changed your choice?"

The captain smirked slightly. "No. But it tells me I made the right one."

He stepped closer, lowering his voice.

"You'll start as a Talon Recruit. Prove yourself, and you'll move up. I don't train weaklings, and I don't tolerate dead weight. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

The captain studied him for a moment longer before giving a small nod.

"Good. Welcome to the Silver Hawks, Elias Vael."