Only one thing in the world was certain:
Every human dreamed of awakening their Authority.
No one knew where Authority came from.
Some claimed it was a forgotten blessing from ancient gods.
Others believed it grew from the human spirit.
Scholars argued. Priests guessed.
But in truth, no one knew.
People did understand one thing:
An Authority awakened when the mind, body, and spirit aligned.
Some children awakened early.
Some adults awakened through training or hardship.
And a rare few…
those who pushed their Authority beyond all mortal limits…
Their power evolved into Divine Authority —
a strength so great it changed nations.
Those few became the Seven Divines,
the strongest humans to ever walk the world:
- The Divine Merchant, whose wisdom guided rulers.
- The Divine Chef, whose meals fed armies.
- The Divine Fisherman, master of all seas.
- The Divine Architect, builder of cities.
- The Divine Scientist, seeker of truth.
- The Divine Farmer, nurturer of life.
- The Divine Archeologist, keeper of forgotten history.
Legends say the Seven Divines once saved the world together.
Legends also say they vanished afterward.
Most believed the Divines were long gone.
But legends were often wrong.
Yava and the Hearth of Flavor
Morning light warmed the dirt road as Yava walked toward a small town.
His steps were calm and steady.
His eyes reflected faint starlight —
Galaxy Eyes, some called them, though no one understood what they meant.
Three younger travelers followed behind him, arguing about something pointless.
Yava sighed.
If they train hard enough, they might awaken their Authorities someday… if they survive long enough.
The scent of grilled meat drifted through the air.
They had reached a bustling town in the Kingdom of Eryndor.
A sign swung gently above a lively, lantern-lit building:
“The Hearth of Flavor — Dael’s House of Warmth.”
Kael inhaled dramatically.
“FOOD!”
He rushed to the door.
Yava stayed still, staring at the sign.
So… this is where you ended up, old friend.
Inside the Hearth of Flavor
The inn buzzed like a festival.
Wooden tables packed with people.
Warm lanterns swaying above.
An open kitchen behind the counter — Izakaya-style —
filled with clattering pans and delicious smells.
A broad man with a bright grin ladled stew with incredible speed.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Yava!” he boomed.
“Long time no see, Divine Merchant!”
Yava raised an eyebrow.
“Long time indeed, Divine Chef.
You’ve gained weight.
And a very successful inn.”
Dael slapped his belly with pride.
“Hahaha! Thank you for noticing!
Business is booming. Everyone in Eryndor comes here to eat.”
“Sit, sit! I’ll bring something fresh.”
“No need,” Yava said. “We’ll sit near you.”
Dael nodded.
“But I’m not giving anything for free.”
“A fifty-percent discount would be appreciated.”
“Dream on.”
Introducing the Trio
Dael eyed the three behind Yava.
“And these youngsters?”
Yava pointed lazily.
“Kael — loud.
Eryn — worried.
Borgas — hungry.”
Kael slammed a hand on the counter.
“I’m strong, not loud!”
Eryn stuttered, “I-I’m not worried, I’m just—calculating risks…”
Borgas tilted his head.
“Hungry… yes.”
Dael laughed loudly.
“So these are your students? Good luck, Divine Merchant.”
Yava rubbed his temples.
“It’s not too late to take one.”
“Absolutely not,” Dael replied. “I can smell trouble.”
Trouble at the Hearth of Flavor
Just as Dael turned back to the kitchen—
the inn’s door slammed open.
Six men entered, armored in mismatched pieces, smug and loud.
Kael groaned.
“Mercenaries… great.”
Their leader pointed at Dael.
“Oi! We’re back.
Pay for protection, or we smash this place apart!”
Dael didn’t turn around.
“No.”
The leader blinked.
“…No?”
“You didn’t listen last week,” Dael said.
“Why waste breath?”
The mercenary kicked a chair over.
“You’re paying today!”
Eryn whispered to Yava, “Should we… um… intervene?”
Yava did not answer.
Dael placed his ladle down.
Slowly.
Kael whispered, terrified, “Oh no. The ladle thing.”
Dael turned with a smile too calm.
“My inn. My rules.”
The mercenary laughed.
“What are you gonna do? Throw soup?”
Dael grinned wider.
“Yes.”
He flicked his wrist.
A splash of scalding broth shot across the room—
fully controlled by Authority—
and slapped the leader in the face.
“AAAAAAARGH! HOT!”
Dael chuckled.
“You’re welcome.”
Four mercenaries charged.
The Fight
Kael jumped into action.
“Hah! Finally!”
He swung a wooden chair—
His trained power shattering it across a man’s chest.
Eryn grabbed a lantern, panicked—
and threw it at the wall.
“I-I contributed!” he squeaked.
“No you didn’t!” Kael yelled.
Borgas, gentle as ever, stepped forward.
A mercenary punched him.
Borgas frowned.
“That’s rude.”
He tapped the man's forehead.
THUD.
The man collapsed instantly.
Kael stared.
“WHY is he the strongest?!”
“I eat well,” Borgas replied.
Behind the counter, two mercenaries leaped at Dael.
Dael grabbed a frying pan and a pot lid.
CLANG!
The first mercenary hit the wall.
The second swung wildly.
Dael blocked with the pot lid,
flipped him over the counter,
and sent him crashing onto a table.
Someone whispered:
“Is he… using Authority… with cookware?”
Yava answered quietly:
“Maybe.”
Yava’s Gaze
The scarred leader, face dripping stew, charged Yava.
“What are YOU supposed to be?!”
Yava didn’t move.
His Galaxy Eyes shimmered — calm, endless, terrifying.
The mercenary froze.
His knees buckled.
“I… I…”
He dropped his weapon and collapsed.
Yava blinked slowly.
“No one important.”
Aftermath
The mercenaries scrambled out the door as fast as they could.
The inn erupted in cheers.
Dael placed fresh bowls on the counter.
“Eat first,” he said.
“Argue later.
Warm food.
Soft beds.
Fair price.”
For a moment, the world outside felt far away.
Yava looked around quietly.
Calm days like this… rarely last.
After the Laughter Fades
The inn emptied.
Lanterns dimmed.
The trio slept upstairs.
Dael leaned on the counter.
“So. Why are you really in Eryndor, Yava?”
Yava’s Galaxy Eyes dimmed.
“Kingdoms are gathering troops.
Training Authorities harder.
Preparing for something.”
Dael raised an eyebrow.
“Because of Serath?”
Yava nodded.
“General Serath Valen has returned to Eryndor.
He’s building the strongest army the kingdom has ever seen.
New drills.
New Authority techniques.
New soldiers.”
Dael sighed.
“That man never rests.”
“When Serath moves,” Yava said softly,
“entire kingdoms shift their armies.”
Dael put the cloth down.
“I’ve heard rumors too.
Strange beasts in the forests.
A child awakening Authority too early.
And a cavern glowing with divine symbols.”
Yava’s expression hardened.
“The world is changing, Dael.
Something is stirring.”
Dael placed a hand on his old comrade’s shoulder.
“If trouble is coming,
you won’t face it alone.”
Yava’s faint smile returned.
“Thank you, Divine Chef.”
“Now go sleep,” Dael said.
“Tomorrow, your noisy students need training.”
“All three of them?”
“Yes.”
They laughed softly.
But neither slept easily.
Chapter One: A Merchant, a Chef, and Three Students!
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