Chương 5

Hakon woke up drenched in sweat. The pungent smell from the day before lingered around, and they shot into his nose as if it knew he just woke up. Cursing and grimacing, Hakon got up, feeling sore all over. Several servants roaming the backyard, scurrying around to purge the back yard of the pungent smell he'd left behind shuddered at his sudden movements. One shrieked and inhaled too much air the moment later. The poor woman nearly choked on the smell and vomited a short distance from Hakon.

He raised an eyebrow at the woman, her complexion pale, her hands trembling. Like the other servants, she wore rags and was much smaller than the average Barbarian. She did not have any muscles, or any muscles worth to note, but that was expected. She was no Barbarian. The servants were weak, fragile, and they were easily scared even when there was no reason to be. Her quivering eyes lingered momentarily on Hakon but quickly shifted to the side of the sparring ring.

"Father." Hakon turned to his father standing outside the ring, arms crossed, eyes locked on to the scene unfolding before him. His father frowned deeply.

"What did you do?" The answer was obvious, but there was no better way to tell his father than to show it to him. Moving his muscles a little eased the soreness that clung to him even after a full night's rest – actually, he did not know when he fell asleep. Regardless, the mana mass was mostly full again, which was all he needed for the demonstration. Hakon bent down to pick up the sword at his feet and raised it at his father. The chieftain's frown faded, one brow lifted.

No words were exchanged as the chieftain stepped into the ring, no weapon drawn. There was no hesitation as Hakon burst into action. He shot toward his father and executed a swift horizontal slash. There was no way he could hurt his father after a single day of training, but his steps were sharper and his sword flowed smoother. It was a slight difference, yet in a fight it could be a deciding factor between life and death. There was only one problem; his body hurt in a way it never did before.

It was almost like he gained a second set of muscles – a set that was on the verge of being torn apart. Fortunately, those muscles did not restrict his momentum all too much. Hakon grit his teeth through the pain, unwilling to show his father anything but the best of himself. The chieftain deflected the slash with a wrist flick, eyes trained on Hakon's every movement. Mana oozed from the mass at Hakon's will. It seeped slowly into his legs under his guidance.

Blood gathered in his mouth and the pungent smell made him want to vomit, but his focus prevailed. So did the pain. If anything, the pain worsened as mana pushed into his legs. It bore down on him and nearly pushed him into giving up. Yet he did not. Ignoring the loss of a portion of mana and the pain that accompanied the sensation, Hakon kicked the ground, and propelled forward. His muscles screamed at him as mana burned through them, but the deed was done.

He reached his father in an instant, sword thrust toward his chest. The boost of mana faded as quickly as it arrived, slowing him almost immediately. However, he was already where he wanted to be, his blade ready to taste the chieftain's blood. But his father was not that easy to hit. His brow furrowed slightly when Hakon appeared before him, yet he did not allow anyone to draw his blood. The chieftain's muscles bulged from one moment to the next, and a terrifying pressure descended upon his son.

His hand blurred suddenly, and Hakon's sword snapped, its blade narrowly missing his face.

"You earned a Level." He noted his son's achievement with a tinge of surprise in his voice, but Hakon shook his head as mana surged toward him.

"Two." Corrected him, smiling despite the loss of his beloved sword. The Ancestors had rewarded him with something far more precious after all. [Skill [Dash] has been learned.] [Proficiency gained. [Flow Control Lv. 2] improved to [Flow Control Lv. 3]] [Experience threshold met. Level Up!]"What level is your Sword Mastery?" The chieftain stared at him.

"19." His eyes widened, which was the biggest reaction Hakon could remember seeing from the chieftain in…forever.

"The Mind." He muttered, regarding his son in a new light.

"Is it an Ancient Power we haven't heard about?" The chieftain narrowed his eyes at Hakon. He was in deep thought, yet he didn't let his son into his thoughts. Instead, he nodded slowly.

"Maybe the Ancestors have not forsaken you." Hakon straightened his back and failed to suppress the vibrant smile as it bloomed. He salivated as more and more mana entered his body. Even though the mana mass hadn't been full before, earning another Level flooded the mass, filling it to the brim, and beyond its previous limit. His physique changed as well, all owed to the Ancestors and their generosity. His Ancient Scripture looked nothing like the night before.

Hakon Taskur – Level 3 Race – Barbarian Ancient Power – Enhanced Comprehension Bloodline– Wildborne Lifeblood Skills – [Combat Awareness Lv. 1], [Sword Mastery Lv. 19], [Reading Lv. 3], [Flow Control Lv. 3], [Running Lv. 3], [Dash Lv. 1] He learned [Running] in the attempt to use mana on his legs. It was nothing special, but the Skill could come in handy. Traveling through the forest with a movement Skill would surely accelerate his plans.

"Are you up for a spar? Or will you train alone? Hunt?" His father asked. Hakon swallowed his surprise. He'd never seen the chieftain so interested in him. It was uncomfortable…yet pleasant at the same time. Weird and unfamiliar suited the situation the most. Regardless, his father's questions brought up a good point. Since he could Level through training, he had more options than others. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"How strong are Ulfar and the other Bloodbearer?" Hakon asked instead.

"Giant Blood is raw power. It strengthens their Bloodline, their power grows with their Level." The chieftain reiterated calmly, "Your generation has been blessed with many powerful warriors. They are talented and some may even earn their 1st Ascension before the Battle of Generation. Ulfar, however, is different. Behemoth Blood is a power of legends like Astrid's Blood Fury." The darkness in his father's eyes burned deep into Hakon's "Ulfar did not leave to hunt with the other Bloodbearers.

His father took him to the mountains this morning." The mountains were dangerous. Most older warriors who hunted alone would avoid the monsters of the mountains. Barbarians did not fear death, but they needed to earn it first. Dying on a hunt that was destined to fail from the beginning earned no honor. It rewarded disgrace.

"The mountains?" Hakon grunted. That was bad. Surviving in the mountains alone was already noteworthy. Being able to kill something as a newly awakened was a Saga-worthy feat. The Ancestors would surely reward Ulfar with powerful Skills and plentiful Levels.

"The mountains are the best place to release the Behemoth Blood. For he has to learn, to tame the power before it overwhelms him." The chieftain added, "He will struggle to stay in control. It will take him seasons to gain full control. By then, he will wield the powers of legends. He will be the equivalent of a living Saga. You have to defeat him before that." Putting aside his father's high opinion of Behemoth Blood, this – his last words – was the first mission Hakon received from his father.

"You think I can defeat him in the Battle of Generation?" Hakon asked, and continued when his father said nothing, "Because I will. Even if it kills me, I will defeat Ulfar. I have to… now more than ever.

"Train or hunt. What is it?"

"Eat." He grunted, his stomach growling in anticipation.

"Once I'm full." Hakon added slowly, a grim smile forming, "I will go hunt."

"Where?" The chieftain asked, looking more invested than he had been in cycles, but the only response he received was a smile. He grunted, "Fine. Do as you please. You have half a fortnight." Seven nights. Hakon had to be ready to fight the Bloodbearers and Ulfar in seven nights. That had to be enough. No. It would be enough.

He was ready to depart. His stomach was full yet not bursting and a large water skin and a bedroll had been prepared by the servants. He did not rush his departure and sharpened his blades. The chieftain handed him a sword after breaking his old one. This one was even better maintained, its blade razor sharp, its weight nearly perfectly balanced.

With the sword sheathed by his side, and both handaxes and bone daggers stashed away with smooth movements, Hakon was finally ready – after he double-checked the hide scrolls and the location on the old map his father claimed from the last chieftain. Once he was certain of his destination, he moved out of the hut. Several tribesmen noticed him, but there was no sign of the awe and respect they displayed merely a few nights before.

It was like Hakon's achievements no longer matter now that he awakened a power of 'The Mind'. That was a shame. Just because he did not awaken a Barbarian's traditional Ancient Power, he was shunned and made fun of. I was the same, wasn't I? Hakon had to remind himself. He hadn't been much better than the other tribesmen. But that didn't mean he couldn't be better from now onward. That he could, all while preparing to show the Tribes that a power of The Mind was not all that bad.

For all Hakon knew, it was much better than Giant Blood. He walked past them, their nasty gazes ignored. Once outside the tribe center, Hakon started to run. First without Skill, then he triggered [Running], loosening the tension spreading throughout his body. No longer resisting the sense of wrongness the Ancient Power displayed, he adjusted his running speed, the way he carried his body, as well as his breathing.

The Ancestors did not deem his adjustments noteworthy enough to increase his Skill's Level by the time he reached the edges of the Rootkeeper farms, but he could always impress the Ancestors later. Densely grown undergrowth, lush and full of life, greeted him a short distance from the outermost farm land, which only seemed to grow thicker as shorter, younger trees joined the old towering trees that had survived the rise and fall of thousands of warriors.

Their bark was thick, their massive size telling as much of a tale as the Sagas. Every mark left on the old tree's bark was a story, each more interesting than the other. The forest was a Saga in its own right. It was a legend, the endless greenery a sight of beauty and terror. And it was finally time for him to return to the very place that birthed legends in ancient times. Hakon strode into the forest, this time alone. And awakened. But he did not rush into the forest for an early battle.

His destination was the Fracture the Barbarian tribes lost several generations ago. He clearly recalled some of the monsters the Fracture was said to hold from a hunt several cycles ago. It was one of the few times he joined his father, and he had forgotten all about the monsters. Until he read the hide scroll and unraveled more big words. He did not thunder through the forest and moved as quietly as he could.

Alas, the bushes around him rustled, branches underfoot cracked seemingly without any stop, and the very earth beneath him appeared to scream with every step he took. Hakon kept his guard up. His eyes flicked left and right, taking in all that happened around him. There he found plants that wiggled around as if they were monsters. Vibrant flowers and plants of the undergrowth merged in a myriad of colors that were rarely seen in the tribe. Recalling the danger of some of them, Hakon made a detour.

He did not have the Skills needed to get poked by their thorns just yet. His attention shifted to fruits hanging from a large, white tree with golden leaves. The fruits shimmered beautifully, and their alluring scent drew him closer, but he would rather bite his tongue than eat them. For now. Until he gained [Poison Resistance] and a few Levels to top it off. The most beautiful fruits were more often than not the most poisonous after all. As he continued to pave his way through the forest, he was faced with danger.

Of course, he was. It did not surprise him the slightest when the undergrowth before him split and a Wind Wolf pounced forward to rip him apart. Muscles tense beneath dark green fur, the Wind Wolf growled. While only as tall as a child, it was much faster and stronger than one. It had massive fangs and claws as long as fingers. But as dangerous as a Wind Wolf was to the unawakened Hakon, he could not help the devious smile as it bloomed.

The undergrowth behind the Wind Wolf rustled, telling Hakon all he needed to know. He unsheathed his bone dagger just as the Wind Wolf leaped at him. The chaos of combat unfurled in an instance. Hakon used [Dash] and crossed the distance to the fast predator instantaneously. This time there was no chieftain to block the attack. Instead, all that remained was pain. It was not as bad as it had been during the spar with his father, but it was still there, trying to obstruct him. That didn't work out well.

Instead, Hakon considered it training. For his body needed to adapt to pain, or the Ancestors would never grant him a very particular Skill. The bone dagger dug into the Wind Wolf's neck with little resistance. The monster yelped, or tried to, when Hakon twisted the blade and ripped it downward, tearing the wound wide open. Several ideas popped up in his head, which was followed up by the urge to hold his blade differently.

To adjust his stance, increase the distance once more, and be fully prepared for the danger awaiting him. Oddities related to the way he wielded the bone dagger surfaced on his mind, so he kept at it when more Wind Wolves leaped out of the undergrowth. Their brethren had already collapsed, leaving Hakon unscathed against all odds. I am not weak! He told himself. Also… there was no holding back. This was not a friendly spar. In a battle of life and death one always had to go all out.

To survive but to honor your enemy all the same. Hakon reminded himself, exhaling deeply as the monsters circled him.