The transition from raw survival to social life in Avalon began to manifest not through grand battles, but through the clinking of silver coins and the sound of hammers striking fine stone. From his marble balcony, Sirzechs Gremory watched as the novice Hollows, after the initial shock of the new economy, began to associate labor with comfort. Grayfia's system was implacable: Want a warm loaf of bread? One coin. Want a new linen tunic to replace your shadowy aura? Two coins. The simplicity of this exchange forced the Hollows out of their state of spiritual lethargy. They were no longer merely extensions of Sirzechs' will; they were customers in a machine they themselves fueled.
The center of attention, however, was the bakery. The former Number 07, who had already awakened intellectually, was undergoing a process that defied the common biology of Jura. He wasn't just accumulating magicules; he was accumulating "identity." As he kneaded the dough for a new type of bread infused with forest herbs, his bone mask began to crack—not from damage, but from internal pressure. An intense but soft white light emanated from his body, forcing the surrounding Hollows to shield the empty sockets of their masks.
Sirzechs and Grayfia immediately descended to the plaza. When the light dissipated, what remained was a figure emanating a newfound dignity. His form was that of a young man with refined European features and short brown hair. However, evolution had not erased his origins: on the right side of his face, extending from the temple to part of the jaw, remained a fragment of his original bone mask, fused to the skin like a mark of ancestral nobility. His eyes now glowed with the color of honey, carrying a deep consciousness.
At that moment, the air around Avalon seemed to vibrate, and a voice—devoid of emotion yet omnipresent—echoed in the ears of every sentient being in the area:
«Notice. The individual formerly designated as Hollow Number 07 has completed the process of Self-Identification.» «Evolution to Race: Homo-Hollow (Avalon Variant)... Success.» «Individual has received the blessing of Lord Sirzechs Gremory. Naming: Benedict... Confirmed.» «The skills of individual Benedict have been optimized. Profession: Master Alchemist of Baking.»
The newborn Benedict fell to his knees. For the first time, he felt the coolness of the wind against his skin and the roughness of the ground—sensations his shadow form had never allowed. Grayfia, acting with the speed of one who loathes aesthetic disorder, used [Gabriel] to instantly manifest a set of fine linen clothes and a reinforced leather apron, covering the subject's nudity. She looked at Sirzechs with an arched eyebrow, already holding a new scroll.
"Lord Sirzechs, Benedict's awakening is a milestone, but it brings a lengthy list of bureaucratic complications. As a being of flesh and bone, he now feels the cold, requires privacy for rest, and fundamentally can no longer live in the open like common Hollows." She pointed to the new humanoid. "He needs a residence. And if he needs one, the others will soon desire the same."
Sirzechs walked up to Benedict, who kissed his lord's hand in a gesture of absolute loyalty. Benedict spoke, and his voice was no longer a ghostly hiss, but a rich and firm baritone:
"My Lord, the heat of the oven now seems insufficient compared to the need for a place where I can keep what I am. My brothers look at me and see the future. They do not just want bread; they want what I have achieved: a name and a place."
Sirzechs smiled, feeling the European aesthetic of his previous life finally taking root. He used [Visionary] to project Avalon's first "Residential Village." He imagined white marble cottages with dark slate roofs, surrounded by small gardens where plants from the Jura Forest could be cultivated. However, Grayfia quickly presented the cost spreadsheet.
"Lord Sirzechs, if you simply manifest the houses, the concept of value that Benedict learned will be diluted. I propose that Benedict use the credits he accumulated from his sales to acquire the title deed to this first dwelling. Order demands that effort precede comfort."
Sirzechs laughed at the irony of applying a real estate market system in a world of infinite magic.
"Grayfia, sometimes I forget you are stricter than any bank on Earth. But you are right. Benedict, the key to the first home in Avalon will cost part of your profit. Do you accept?"
"With honor, Lord Sirzechs," Benedict replied, handing a heavy bag of silver coins to Grayfia.
By the end of the day, Benedict entered his new home. He touched the mask fragment on his face in front of a crystal mirror, recognizing who he had been and who he had become. Outside, the hundred new Hollows watched the light from Benedict's window. They saw that in Avalon, work was not just for the King, but for one's own evolution. Sirzechs' paperwork tripled with property registries and new names beginning to emerge, but he knew: Avalon was no longer just a clearing with monsters. It was a civilization that now had a face, a name, and a roof under the stars.
The awakening of Benedict did not just bring hope to Avalon's subjects; it brought an aesthetic and social necessity that Sirzechs, in his idealistic vision, had not fully foreseen. With the transition from Hollow to human form, the concepts of "decency" and "style" became topics of absolute urgency. It wasn't long before another member of the first generation—a Hollow who spent hours observing the precision of the folds in Grayfia's dresses—felt the call of evolution.
Author's Note:
Evolution in Avalon works differently! It's not just about power levels; it's about the "Self-Identification" of the soul. Benedict is the first of many. Who do you think will be the next to evolve? A weaver? A smith? Or perhaps a warrior?