Tynesday, 12th of Juno, 470th Year of the Fifth Era

Once more, all the clans of the Halaklands had gathered on the great field at the Dolok Mulajadi. They stood similar to their formation during the start of the Gotilon festival. Josias stood as always amongst his clansmen and his realm of Goria.

The meeting with the Nabolga on Solsday bore many good fruits for the realms involved. One of the agreements reached was that Nabolga would formally content itself with resigning the tournament as second place winners. Prince Silua had made it clear that he bore no ill will towards the Gorians and that he would strive always to better himself and his companions. Perhaps in the future they could then content themselves with being equals to the Gorian warriors in combat prowess.

The third place match was held the day before between Tanjung Naria and the Saorma. However, due to their track record throughout the tournament, not many people showed up to support the Saorma. It was to the point that even though the Saorma had won against the Tanjung Narians – granted through more underhanded means – not many people cheered.

Now, the tournament had come to an official close and Goria had been named as the champions. A final ceremony to confer the rewards was being held then. The morning sun's rays bore upon Josias as he and his companions were called to the front of the crowd along with the Nabolga team and the Saorma.

Josias and his companions had warmly greeted the Nabolga as they came forward to the front of the gathered crowd. However, neither of their teams bothered to spare the Saorma even a glance as they walked past them. Not even an obligatory smile or nod of acknowledgement was given.

Josias did catch a split-second glance towards the Saorma. Suffice it to say, their faces were none too pleased. Their expressions were full of frowns and Josias could almost feel the glazing hatred and contempt coming from them like a fully-manifested warrior's aura. Josias scoffed as the feeling was mutual.

The Raja Malim had welcomed the warriors and placed blessings upon the winners, though Josias and his companions had denied themselves any blessings. A short argument sparked between the Gorians and one of the Matanitao elders. Eventually, Raja Malim intervened and relented towards Josias' request in order to be blessed by the Archbishop.

Goria had wished to make it clear to the entirety of the Halaklands that their victory within the tournament was no mere feat of skill. It was divine providence afforded to them by their God. Josias casted another look towards the crowd. There were mixed reactions as always. Some supportive, some indifferent, while some – like the Hutaraja and Hutanaga – showed clearly hostile intentions.

Josias gave an exasperated chuckle as he thought about it all. It was just absurd to him. The whole bloody reason the Gotilon festival and tournament were held to begin with was to 'foster unity'. In reality, the only thing it fostered were heightened tensions between enemies and a clearer divide between realms. The lines in the sand were now more visible than ever before.

Despite that, Josias still had to keep the minimum sense of decorum. Even when he was arguing about the matter of the blessings, he had been careful to not outright state anything that might be seen as blasphemous to the Parmalim. He merely reiterated that it would be improper for him and his companions as christians to go through a blessing by shamans and elders who think them as lost heretics.

Josias watched Ludwig bless him and his companions with a big smile upon his face. But behind that wide smile, Josias could see tired and puffed up eyes. Once more he was reminded of the reality that the Archbishop was even older than his grandfather and that he was suffering from a similar disease. Yet in spite of all that, the archbishop was still pushing through for his mission of faith. All at the expense of his daughter who worries to no end for him.

His mixed feelings aside, Josias accepted the blessings gladly. He and his companions gave the archbishop a 'salim' greeting after the blessings. Shortly after that, came the moment all the winners had been waiting for. It was the conferment of the prizes upon the winners.

A line of men and women carrying various small chests and pouches towards the front of the crowd. One by one the winners were given their rewards. All according to their placing within the tournament. Within each team, the captains were awarded with a little more than the rest of the members.

The third-place Saorma team were awarded with pouches within which was a sizable sum of kepengs. Not bad for a rag-tag team of tricksters. The Nabolga were also awarded with a lump sum of money but in addition to that they were also given trinkets such as jewelry and books.

Josias' mouth gaped when he saw the small chest placed in front of him. When he opened it, he saw a small but respectable trove of money and treasures. This made him question whether or not the organizers of the tournament were in their right mind. The amount of gold awarded was enough for a man to start his own farm and buy his own livestock.

Perhaps it was about the right time for Josias to found his own plot of land to start a farm. Hire some farmhands to work it as well as start rearing livestock as well. Maybe even get a man from the Bontarmata realms to design a garden for all sorts of flowers and alchemical ingredients. Lord knows Serena would appreciate that.

Lost in his own thoughts, Josias didn't notice that in front of him stood the Raja Malim holding one final item to present to him. Josias was quickly brought back to reality by an elbow shove from Johannes who stood next to him. Immediately he straightened himself out as he faced the Raja Malim with a serious expression.

"...To you, Tuan Josias Panuturi Hatigoran Sigumogo. As the captain of the winning team of Goria, I present this blade." The Raja Malim handed to Josias a most exquisite sabre within its scabbard.

Josias took care in handling the weapon as he held its scabbard. Its scabbard was quite ornate in and of itself, being made of gold-plated metal and bejewelled by what looked like a collection of rubies, garnets, and amethysts. The handle of the sabre was also fitted with a few gemstones, but its most striking feature was its curved handle with a figure of an elephant carved into it. It was made in the style of the 'Piso Gajah Dompak', one of the symbols of kingly power within the Halaklands.

Unsheathing the sabre, Josias' eyes sparkled from the blade's glint beneath the sun's light. Even without putting his own aura into it, he could see the blade of the sword itself emanating a subtle glowing hue. This was a weapon that frankly Josias thought was far too precious to be an award in a tournament like this one.

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"This is the last blade made by the late Lord Lampatar Pandebosi." The Raja Malim explained. Josias' eyes widened when he heard the name. Who among all the warriors of the Halak did not know the greatest smith of the Halaklands? To think that such a priceless blade was to be his due to winning in a tournament against a bunch of arrogant young warriors. It was a steal, through and through.

"I accept this weapon with honor, Tuan Raja Malim." Josias bowed his head slightly towards the elder king as he returned the sword to its sheathed.

"May this blade help you in whatever trials you will face in the future." The Raja Malim continued. "Also, considering the fact that Lord Lampatar died shortly after the creation of this weapon, he had not yet named it. All he left us with was a will to bequeath it to 'the most promising star of the new generation'... And from this tournament, we have determined that person to be you. If you would do the honor of giving the blade its name…"

Josias fell silent as he thought about it. It was truly an honour to be given a weapon like this. Especially by a legendary bladesmith. To top it off, he got it essentially for free. But now he was left with the matter of naming the blade.

It was a big task especially when asked about it on the spot. The expectant look of his companions as well as the Raja Malim weren't helping him think straight either. Should he give the blade a good foreign name? Foreign western names sounded very cool to the Halak ear. Perhaps 'Stormguard'? No, that sounded too common even if it was in English. 'Invinciblade'? That sounded stupid…

Just as Josias was racking his mind for whatever he could grasp at, his view gazed towards the crowd who were looking to him. All of those gazes reminded him of his greatest feeling of victory when the crowds roared his name along with a title…

"Soditaluhon… That's what I'll name the blade." Josias' answer was firm. His friends nodded with his choice while the Raja Malim gave an impressed smile.

"A bold name, young prince." The Raja Malim nodded and smiled. "Then may this blade be true to its name and may you be undefeated so long as you wield it."

With that said, the Raja Malim had asked Josias to step forward as he showed him to the crowd. With a loud and booming voice, he declared, "SODITALUHON!! (Undefeated!!)"

Immediately the crowd broke out into a deafening roar of cheers and acclamation. Many among the aura warriors had even enhanced their voices with their mana. Josias could even pick out his father's voice from among the crowd, cheering him on.

"THAT'S MY SON!! I TRAINED HIM!! THAT'S MY SON!!" Josias could hear his father shout from so far away. It was both an endearing and an embarrassing feeling.

Besides the celebratory shouts from his father and the rest of the Gorian warriors, the air of the field was also filled with the sounds of Gondang drums, Hasapi, and flutes. The jubilant mood of the festival was back on. Many of the young men and women even started running to the field to congratulate the winners. Many more moved as they danced towards the joyous beat of the drums and the music.

Josias and his companions were immediately beset by their companions and family members upon the field. His father had come rushing in along with his lieutenants to the field with their auras. They left behind in their wake beautiful trails of elemental energy which were showy but ultimately harmless. The children laughed and pointed to what they saw as pretty colours.

As always, his father had grabbed him and immediately lifted him into the air. Josias had learned to accept it by now as he laughed and enjoyed being tossed by his bear of a father. His younger siblings and cousins were also happily running around as they jumped and shouted.

From his vantage point, Josias could also see his uncle among the Saorma warriors who were congratulating their own team. Josias had a bitter smile on his face as he caught sight of his uncle giving him a wave and a thumbs up. He still didn't know how best to treat his uncle in regards towards his apostasy. Not to mention his grandfather's absolute disdain towards his uncle.

Josias shook his head as he wanted to put those thoughts aside. Family politics be damned, today was a day of celebration and merriment. Josias was determined to enjoy himself that day to the fullest. He was going to get pissed drunk that night and no one in the world would be able to stop him.

However, it appeared that he spoke too soon. Just as everyone was dancing happily and making merry, someone shouted with the aura of a fifth star warrior.

"...ATTENTION!!!" the voice called out.

The music had stopped as everyone was looking towards where the call was coming from. Josias and his father quickly began scanning around for the source of the voice. They had recognised it all too well as belonging to Elder Marasi.

There they spotted him standing proudly next to King Parhal. Around the king also stood the great elders of Goria. Their faces looked serious which caused Josias to feel uneasy. What in the world could these old men be planning? Were they about to declare a crusade of some sort? Judging from their expressions, they might.

"We elders and chiefs of the clans of Goria call upon thee, o mighty and noble sons of Si Raja Halak!" Elder Marasi called out once more with his distinctly booming voice. It was loud enough that reverberations could be felt throughout the air. "Once more we call upon thee, ale angka raja ni halak hita! (O ye kings of the Halak!)".

With that call, the other kings of the Halak realms had also unleashed their auras within the field. All these warriors were either at the peak of the fourth star or well into their fifth stars. The energy they released was huge despite many of them being around King Parhal's age.

The field immediately erupted into colourful bursts of aura. Red, white, green, yellow. Practically all the colours of the rainbow could be seen coalescing on the field.

"For what do you call on us, ye elders of Goria?" The Raja Malim was the first of the kings to gather in front of the Gorian elders. He was soon followed by the elders of the Siparmalim before the other kings soon joined.

Josias saw as some of the kings had come with curious expressions while others looked more guarded. Other kings – namely those allied or partial towards Goria – instead had more relaxed expressions on their faces. This was shaping up to be something quite interesting. Josias and the rest of the Gorians quickly made their way towards their elders.

When all of the kings and their many elders had gathered and the people of their realm also gathering behind them, King Parhal had finally unleashed his full golden aura.

Josias had braced himself to receive his grandfather's aura in full but surprisingly, it was missing its usual oppressive feeling. In fact, it felt warmer. Gentle even, like when he placed his hand within the waters of a hotspring.

Within his golden aura, King Parhal stood with his arms behind his back. He looked towards the kings who had gathered before him. Though his frame wasn't all that tall and his ribcage could be seen heaving as he breathed, no one could deny that King Parhal commanded great fear and respect.

After eyeing everyone who had gathered there, King Parhal nodded before clasping his hands into the somba gesture. This was followed by all the Gorian elders. Finally, the king spoke, "...We wish to present to all of you… a humble invitation… to our Realm."

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