Chương 107: B2 Chapter 27

Chieftain Ragna stood before the Monolith. He rested against the Zeldron statues, his back tingling like many, many cycles ago. The Ancestors' power thrummed through the Zeldron as well as the Monolith, protecting the tribe and watching over them. It was an affront to the eon-old creatures to rest his back against them, which sent shockwaves of immense power through his body, but that was exactly what the chieftain needed right now. The tribehold had been cleared of dirt and obstacles.

A stage not unlike the one shaped for the Battle of Generation had been formed; however, this was not the Battle of Generation. This was a Challenge of Blood. A death sentence to one of the warriors who could have stood among the greatest. It was a shame, and it was Ragna's fault. But he did not regret it. Glancing up to the Blood Moon hanging high above the sky, it looked almost like the tip of the Monolith pierced it. Of course, the Monolith did not touch the Great Ones, though it had been touched before.

But that was an old tale, one so old most of Tribe Taskur hadn't been born yet. Only Ragna and the oldest had been alive at that time, yet they too had been no more than youngsters. Ravenous howls tore through the silence of the tribehold, followed by roars that would have terrified even the toughest warriors beneath the 4th Ascension. Drakes and other beasts were on the move, and so were the abominations born from the Fractures that hadn't been closed just yet.

"A nuisance." Ragna sighed. The Blood Moon's influence was as intense as ever. No, it was worse. Its influence was more potent this cycle, promising great trouble to Taskur and the other tribes. They would have to hunt tirelessly and more aggressively in the following nights, but so was life. That was the cycle of the Blood Moon. It brought forth great peril. Alas, danger birthed power. The greater the challenge at hand, the greater the gifts of the Ancestors. If they still watch.

Chieftain Ragna was not so sure about that recently. The return of the Rite, the rise of two legendary Powers, and the unique Power bestowed upon his son changed his mind. It made him hesitant to believe that the Ancestors had gone to rest after the Warlord's rise... but that was what the Shaman had told him when he became Taskur's chieftain. And now everything had changed. Ever since he bonded with Emilian. No, ever since they got Hakon.

"If he doesn't—..." Ragna shook his head, eyes drifting down to his palm. It was covered in scars and callouses, but his focus was a single, fresh cut. One he could have healed in a moment's thought if he hadn't suppressed his healing. It wasn't much; he didn't even feel it, but it was a wound inflicted by his son. A young warrior who'd barely climbed the Second Wall had managed to scratch him, Chieftain of Tribe Taskur. Warrior of the 6th Ascension, restricted or not.

Hakon's Skill had been surprisingly powerful, just like his Will. It was an infant, and it was not like awakening a Will at his age was uncommon under normal circumstances, but it was monumental to awaken a Will so soon after the Rite. Even if he sometimes didn't wish that to be the case, Hakon was his mother's child. And his son, which made more than up for all the trouble Emilia had put them through. But even then, it was only a matter of time before his Bloodline would awaken.

By then – Ragna's lips curled upward – Hakon would be able to call upon the power of his kind. True Lifeblood. But until he could wield Lifeblood, more time had to pass. Hakon would have to grow a lot stronger, and until then, he would have to survive. Turning to the towering figure of Ulfar, Ragna once again realized that his son's chances were lower than he'd anticipated. Several nights had passed since he last saw the Behemoth Blood warrior, and he had gotten even stronger.

His presence was like an open vault for everyone to see, and it showed the chieftain all he needed to know. Something was wrong with Ulfar. He was clearly no longer in control of his Ancient Power, yet he hadn't lost it entirely either. But that was not all. Something ancient burned deep within him, and it unsettled Ragna almost as much as the nasty hag, the Silver Dragon, did. There was still a stark difference, one that could not be surpassed with sheer willpower, but it smelled of trouble.

You can do it, he thought. He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. If you don't, your mother is coming after me. And Ragna did not want that. Nor did he wish to release the Seals. But if Hakon were to die… He shook his head. That would not happen. He was their child. A meagre legendary Ancient Power wouldn't defeat him, even if it was wreaking havoc.

Hakon took a deep breath as he bathed in the crimson moonlight of the ripe Blood Moon. The time for the Challenge of Blood had come, and he was ready for it. As ready as one could be. Ulfar stood in the center of the tribehold, a massive mace resting on his bulging shoulders. Several axes and blades, attached to his waist and the sling flung around his shoulder, gleamed beneath the Blood Moon. Armed to the teeth, Ulfar was more than ready.

Their eyes met as Hakon pushed past his fellow warriors to join the Behemoth Blood warrior in the arena. Thunderous cheers swallowed the roars and howling of the monsters beyond the tribehold, yet they never reached Hakon. He was one with himself, his senses zoned in on the only being of importance. His foe. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I don't have anything against you," Ulfar said. That was a lie. He always hated Hakon.

"But you took what's mine, and I will take it back." Hakon did not lower himself to his opponent's level. There was no need for words any longer.

"You are too afraid to speak? As expected from the Mind." He growled, though something about his tone was off. No, it was not the tone but the way he said certain words. It was nothing like the arrogant warrior Hakon knew.

"I will feast on your Saga. Consume it, make it mine, and then I will climb the Third Wall. And then… then it is your father's turn to kneel before me." Hakon couldn't help but snort at the last bit. No matter how hard Ulfar had hit his head, it was hard to be this delusional. Did he really believe he'd be strong enough to fight the chieftain head-on at the 3rd Ascension? That… Hakon didn't even try holding back his laughter.

He let out a bellowing laugh that shattered the tension hanging in the air, and he did not stop until the Monolith tremored. The moment the Monolith sent a tremor through the tribehold, Hakon's stance changed. The laughter died in his throat. He lowered his body and unsheathed a set of refined handaxes he'd found in his father's weapon storage. Decent but not good enough. They have no pathways. His weapons were nothing like Maulaxe Crusher had been.

Crusher had been a gift of the Ancestors, and while it was no longer with him, its memory was etched in Hakon's mind and Saga.

"The Challenge of Blood has been called upon by Ulfar, representing the legendary warrior of Behemoth Blood. He desires the seat of the Successor that rightfully belongs to him," Chieftain Ragna's voice thundered across the tribehold.

"On the defending side we have Hakon Taskur, Successor of Tribe Taskur named by the Ancestors in the face of the Battle of Generation, wielder of a Power of the Mind, and first young, honorable warrior of Tribe Taskur to shatter the Second Wall." Hakon's father barely glanced toward Ulfar as his words thundered across the tribehold like a whip crack. He must have noticed the fury burning in Ulfar's eyes because the corner of his lips curled into the hint of a smile before he turned to look at Hakon.

"May the strongest warrior drink in the blood of their foe. May he feast upon the Saga of the dead." He intoned, his head flicking to the Monolith.

"And may the Ancestors watch the Challenge of Blood. Just like the Zeldron did during the First Age." As the last words escaped Chieftain Ragna's lips, something shifted. The crimson hue in the air faded momentarily. No, it was more like the color of the realm had been sucked out of everything; All but the Monolith, which pulsed in the most vibrant color of blood Hakon had ever seen before.

"Fight. For blood. For honor. For… justice." Ragna's voice echoed in Hakon's mind, and it likely was the same with Ulfar because the Behemoth Blood warrior took off. He kicked the ground, a savage smile on his face. The color of the realm returned, but the vicinity was drenched crimson. In the blood of the Ancestors, as they too bled for their warriors. Hakon pushed ahead as well. There was no hesitation as he caught up with Ulfar, mana flowing out of his Core in streams.

Ulfar's mace flashed through the air and descended like death incarnate, but Hakon was the first to strike. The warriors were already in range of one another when a scythe's blade made of mana materialized behind Ulfar. The Behemoth Blood warrior's hair stood up on end, surprising Hakon, but he was too slow to fully block the attack. A burst of mana, amplified with [Accelerate], set off the mana scythe faster than a warrior's arrow.

It tore through the air, crossed the short distance separating it from its target, and struck gold. The sling that once hung around Ulfar's shoulders clattered to the ground, severed. Beside it was a single droplet of blood, and the sound of metal colliding with metal – a weird sound, coming from a compressed mana structure carving into Barbarian skin. Tough body and quick reaction. Hakon mused, all while reminiscing how powerful Ulfar had been in the past and how strong he had become ever since then.

His Runeskin, Spikescale, had triggered, hardening his skin and growing spiked scales from his back, yet that hadn't been enough to block the mana scythe's full force. But it had been enough to force Hakon into changing his tactic. In return for the clean hit he managed to land, he got struck as well. A thick mana shield the size of a regular shield coalesced between him and Ulfar as the mace came crashing down. It blocked the attack just in time, only to fail at the last moment.

A creak rang in Hakon's ears right before the shield shattered, and once it did, he got struck in the side. The cracking of his shattering ribs echoed in his ears, but that did not surprise him all that much. What shocked him quite a bit was that he wasn't all that hurt. Warmth spread toward his ribs almost immediately, and while the attack had been tough to bear, it didn't affect his fighting strength all that much. [Adaptive Resilience]. What a powerful Skill… if trained properly.

The corner of his lips curled upward. Zoning back onto the fight, mana trickled out of the Core and into his pathways and toward his weapons. With [Bleeding] applied, he inspected his condition as well as that of his Runeskins for a moment. A moment later, he pushed through, [Circulation] pushed to its limit. Enhancing his body alone ought to be enough to work against Ulfar. He was a one-armed combatant, which could be exploited by someone with high enough perception to predict his opponent's movements.

That sounded feasible… it wasn't. Hakon realized quickly enough that he had to integrate bursts of [Swiftstep] to escape Ulfar's rapid swings and occasional kicks. It made him feel like his muscles were on the verge of tearing apart, but the warmth of [Vitality Stream] was all the more soothing. Once more, [Adaptive Resilience] kept everything at bay. It transformed what had once been troublesome and incredibly dangerous to his health, a death sentence in combat, into a mere inconvenience within half a fortnight.

A painful inconvenience, but a mere inconvenience nonetheless. Hakon had adapted through tireless effort, and now he could punish his body more than ever. Twisting and turning, escaping Ulfar's heavy strikes rather than facing them head-on, he made it out alive. And, all this while, Enhanced Comprehension churned and guided him to victory. All it took was time, effort, and a little fortune. The Ancestors' blessing as well, if possible, but that was no more than wishful thinking. I can do it.