In just one more day the Gods would choose Glenn Redwood as an Adventurer, and the idea of finally venturing beyond his home zone of Grassea had him grinning like a besotted fool.

As Glenn strode quickly away from Wolfpine’s gates—from the gates of the town where he’d been born—green grass swayed in the cool wind drifting across the zone. Balarel’s brilliant orange sun hung halfway through its descent to the horizon, glowing in a beautiful blue sky. The air smelled like damp earth and fresh bark, yet as pleasant as his zone was, Glenn couldn’t wait to leave.

It wasn’t that Glenn held any animosity toward where he’d grown up. Over the past sixteen years he’d grown to love the rolling hills and beautiful forests of Grassea. And after leaving Wolfpine, he’d certainly miss his parents, both Townsfolk, whom the Pantheon—the Ten Gods of Balarel—had decreed would spend the rest of their lives inside Wolfpine’s walls.

Yet Glenn already knew the Gods wouldn’t chose him as Townsfolk. He’d felt the call to adventure from a young age, from the first time he read a story about such famed Adventurers as Mammoth Cloudcrusher, and Glory Heartspear, and Benjamin Ravendust. Their epic Quests against the minions of the Challenger Gods were known across Balarel, and the glory they’d earned for the Pantheon had made them legends.

Tomorrow Glenn would turn 16 and enter the ranks of those trial age, 16 to 17. His experience would no longer be capped at 21999/22000, and the Gods would choose him to become an Adventurer. He could finally Level to 5 and choose his Class: Duelist. Yet even so close to his dream, it wouldn’t do to falter before the Gods. So today, as he had many days since he turned 14, Glenn hunted.

As a twig snapped from somewhere further into the Deepscorn Woods, Glenn’s grin grew eager. Once again, the Gods were challenging him to test himself against the Monsters of Balarel. With the prospect of fresh combat ahead, he summoned his Status Sheet for one last check.

His Divine Status Sheet floated before him, large, transparent, and visible only to him.

Name: Glenn Redwood ==== Age: 15 Strength: 13 Level: 4 Divinity: 8 Class: Unassigned Luck: 7 HP: 110/110 Vitality: 11 Blood: 60/60 Wisdom: 6 Experience: 21999/22000(Capped) Prowess: 8 Gear: Uncommon: [Ring-Mail Armor] Uncommon: [Bronze Training Sword] Uncommon: [Hiking Boots] Common: [Light Healing Potion] Common: [Light Healing Potion] Slotted Skills: Uncommon: [-Phantom Slice-] (Duelist/Vox) Slotted Blessings: Unassigned Known Skills: None Known Blessings: None

Glenn closed his Status Sheet and stalked further into the woods on light feet, determined to find and defeat whatever Monster had snapped that twig. He was proud of the four points of Strength and Vitality he’d gained over the past two years. He’d always been strong from a young age, and his current Strength made him among the strongest fifteen-year-olds in Wolfpine.

In two years and four Levels, Glenn’s Divinity attribute had never improved at all, but he didn’t fight with daggers or cast magic Skills ... actions that brought him closer to the Gods. He had gained a single point in Wisdom simply by reading all the books on Adventurers available in Wolfpine’s chapel, and he remained proud of that accomplishment. He would have plenty of Levels to further increase his attributes once he became an Adventurer and Duelist.

Though Glenn’s [Ring-Mail Armor] offered decent protection, it didn’t clatter or clink like chain. That combined with Glenn’s comfortable [Hiking Boots] made him all but silent as he crept toward whatever had disturbed the forest, clutching his [Bronze Training Sword] tightly in his right hand. It didn’t take Glenn long to find the source of the single snapped twig.

A trio of Grass Sprites danced shakily around a small shamanic mound, going about their mysterious Monster business as enigmatic Monsters often did. Glenn had been hoping to stumble across a lone Gloamwolf or, if he was really lucky, a Moss Beast. He pushed down his disappointment.

Grass Sprites were Level 1 Monsters, Earth elementals formed of sticks and leaves that stood no taller than a child. They offered little challenge even to an unclassed, inexperienced person. The Pantheon awarded no experience for besting Monsters more than three Levels below one’s own Level.

Glenn had slain hundreds of Grass Sprites as he Leveled, and he’d come tramping home day after day with his clothes, sword, and boots covered in mud and muck. His mother, Tania, had never asked him to stop, and he suspected she was secretly proud of how hard he worked.

Yet as Glenn crouched and observed his latest quarry, he realized their appearance might be a God blessing in disguise. He couldn’t gain any more experience until he turned 16 tomorrow, anyway. So it didn’t matter that defeating these Grass Sprites would award no experience.

What three Grass Sprites did offer was the perfect opportunity to test [-Phantom Slice-].

Once a mortal reached 14 years of age—common age—the Gods allowed them to begin Balarel’s Climb, to defeat Monsters and gain Levels. And once one reached Level 4, the Gods allowed a mortal to choose their first Skill. To wield Their power.

Most young people in Balarel waited until they reached 16—trial age—to choose their first Skill, just in case the Gods chose them as Townsfolk. If that happened, any Adventurer Skill chosen prior to being selected as Townsfolk would be locked away. Yet choosing an Adventurer Skill before being chosen as an Adventurer was a leap of faith those who truly believed in the Gods might undertake.

This morning, in the Chapel of Celes, Glenn had decided to prove his faith in the Gods by choosing the Duelist Skill [-Phantom Slice-]. The appearance of these Grass Sprites felt like the Gods rewarding him for his faith. It felt like Vox Herself had offered him a reward to reassure him all was well.

He brought up his Status Sheet again and read the Skill’s description one more time.

[-Phantom Slice-] – Blade – Duelist – Vox, Goddess of the Bold – Uncommon: Inflict any wound you inflict upon two additional targets within 15 paces. Two Minute Cooldown.

Based on every account he’d ever read, using a Skill was as simple as focusing on the target and shouting the Skill inside one’s head. Glenn whistled loudly to Anger the Grass Sprites. The nearest sprite spun, chittered like an overgrown cricket, and danced toward him on dainty stick legs.

Glenn stood, readied his [Bronze Training Sword], and tightened both hands on the grip. Control was as important as force. The other two Grass Sprites belatedly charged after the first.

As the first Grass Sprite arrived, Glenn focused on the leading Grass Sprite and loosed a powerful horizontal strike. Even as he struck, he yelled the Skill’s name inside his head.

[-Phantom Slice-]!

The simple-minded sprite didn’t attempt to dodge the blow. Even with only a [Bronze Training Sword] as his weapon, Glenn’s impressive Strength and Prowess chopped the sprite in two. The sprite’s slim red Health Bar appeared for a moment before it charred black.

At that same moment, the two Grass Sprites charging behind the first split in the exact same way as their leader. Their Health Bars appeared, charred black, and then all three bars faded away at the same time. In perfect synchronization, all three Grass Sprites tumbled to the ground before disappearing in a puff of purplish smoke.

Tiny purple crystals appeared in their place, and Glenn could no longer contain his excitement. “That was awesome!”

His childish words echoed through the woods. He cringed, belatedly, yet no one answered. No one was around to hear, so he would allow himself this small celebration. Vox might even approve.

Many Adventurers shouted their Skills aloud when they used them, both to announce their intention to their Party members and for intimidation value, but high-leveled Adventurers considered shouting one’s Skills aloud when alone a mark of the inexperienced or unrefined. Still, Glenn had just wielded the power of the Gods for the first time in his whole life.

It felt incredible.

Glenn saw evidence of the Gods’ power every day, of course, as They enforced Their rules and Adventurers and Townsfolk wielded Their power, but using that power felt different. This wasn’t the Gods enforcing their rules. This was the Gods acting through him.

Glenn wiped fresh sap off his sword, stowed it in the sheathe on his back, and walked over to the shaman mound. It was now nothing more than unremarkable dirt. He knelt at each pile of dust and lifted a tiny purple Life Crystal from each. He tucked the purple crystals into his hip pocket.

These miniscule Life Crystals were worth almost nothing, selling for a single crescent each. Three crescents would buy half a loaf of bread or a mug of cheap ale. Yet Glenn had never been one to let resources go to waste, no matter how insignificant. Also, though Card’s Manual of Monsters assured him Grass Sprites had the intelligence of insects, he still honored them in this small way.

Risking one’s own life to defeat others and become stronger was the charge of the Pantheon, but that didn’t mean one had to take pleasure in killing foes or even that one must despise them. To abandon the Life Crystals left behind by his fallen foes felt disrespectful to everyone involved, even the Grass Sprites. Glenn would never blaspheme against the Pantheon in words or deeds.

He opened his Status Sheet and read the numbers ticking away inside his only Slotted Skill.

[-Phantom Slice-00:01:32]

In Card’s Guide for Adventurers, Glenn had read that the first number represented hours, the second minutes, and the third seconds.

It was gratifying to see his reading confirmed. Six numbers was a strange way to represent time—how would that even work, on the face of Wolfpine’s clock tower?—but the ways of the Pantheon were beyond mortal comprehension.

And he couldn’t wait to turn 16 tomorrow and be chosen as an Adventurer.

====

Legends of Balarel is a LitRPG where Gods charge mortals to Level and grow stronger by fighting Monsters, Demons, and Desouled. In the world of Balarel, who can use items, wear equipment, and use Skills is controlled by the Gods. They, the Pantheon, control all aspects of mortal existence.

Formatting is as follows.

== Items and Equipment ==

All Items and Equipment used in Adventuring are represented in brackets, such as [Wooden Shield]. Equipment comes in five qualities – Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, and Legendary.

Any person in Balarel can use Common Items.

Only those chosen by the Gods as Adventurers can use Uncommon and higher Items. The only exception to this is Unclassed common age citizens leveling their way to 5, who may also use Uncommon gear if they sign a contract and pay a significant fee to their starting town’s coffers.

== Skills and Blessings ==

Skills are active and Blessings are passive. While Adventurers may learn countless Skills and Blessings, they may only slot five Skills and three Blessings at any time. Mortals earn new Skills every two levels, starting at Level 4, and new Blessings every five levels, starting at Level 5. They may reSlot every twenty-four hours by placing their hands upon a shrine within a Chapel of Celes.

Skills, which are actively cast, are represented in brackets with dashes. [-Phantom Slice-]

Blessings, which are passive, are represented in brackets with + signs. [+Regrowth+]

Skills and Blessings come in five qualities – Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Legendary, and Mythic.