Chương 75: Chapter 64

Moving around an incoming strike, Hakon twisted his body. A second attack aimed at his head followed a moment later, forcing him to react more drastically. His longsword shot upward, redirecting the attack, while the handaxe in his other hand snaked toward his opponent's neck. Smooth, seamless motions helped him keep up with the 2nd Ascension warrior, but the Barbarian raised his free arm to block the axe strike. The blade dug through skin and muscle, yet failed to carve deep into the Barbarian's flesh.

That was fine, though, because Hakon twisted the axe, triggered [Bleeding] with a burst of mana racing down the blade's edge, and spun around, ripping his weapon free once again. His foe gritted his teeth but followed up with rumbling strides, blood dripping to the ground. Wild strikes empowered with raw strength met beautiful sequences of slashes, precise movements, and calculated counters meant to block, redirect, or evade grievous injuries.

Hakon twisted his way out of the worst blows but still took a blade to the stomach, biceps, and even face whenever it meant his sword or axe could find purchase deep inside the Barbarian. The nicks and bruises spreading across Hakon's body did not hurt nearly as much as the old wounds that had yet to fully heal. They were nothing in comparison. Rather than hurting, he found them pleasant because they fueled his Runeskin.

Hoard Impact was already full, brimming with immense power, yet Hakon didn't bother unleashing the hoarded strength, for it gave him the edge he needed to fight his foe head-on. [Combat Awareness] flared up, aided by his other Skills, as someone behind his foe crashed to the ground. A group of Taskur and Pearot Barbarians fell over each other, their roars in perfect sync with the trembling ground. The warrior facing him twisted his body to glance sideways, clearly expecting an enemy to leap at him from the side.

Instead, a Taskur warrior lunged at the Pearot Barbarian behind him. However, the opportunity was still there, and Hakon used it. He conjured a small mana shield at a low altitude, right behind the Barbarian's calf. Then, as soon as his foe noticed something amiss, Hakon burst ahead, [Circulation] and [Dash] ramped up beyond their safe limits. His body screamed at him, yet his opponent was all he could see. Hakon didn't bother evading the sword coming for his side.

He used [Evasion] alongside [Combat Awareness] to avoid the worst of it but pushed ahead, his feet crashing down upon the Barbarian's foot as soon as he closed the distance. [Bash] triggered a fraction of a moment later, and he rocketed into his towering opponent. The sound of snapping bone rang out from the Barbarian's foot, and he stumbled back, revealing dozens of weak spots. Yet before Hakon could leverage them, his foe regained a semblance of balance, his sword carving through the air once more.

Hakon blocked the strike easily enough this time while his axe tore into the Barbarian's chest. Mana burst out of the axe's edge and detonated, creating tiny explosions while the blade dug deeper. Understanding how much – or how little – time he had, Hakon ripped the axe free, revealing a grievous wound. A gaping hole that was only waiting to end the Barbarian. Skidding back half a step with a light, unbothered motion, Hakon materialized half a dozen [Mana Bolt]s right before him.

He shaped them more through newfound instinct than comprehensive understanding, making them pointier. Then he forced [Bleeding] upon the mana structures simply because he wanted it to work. And it did. The moment he used [Compression] and [Reinforcement], the unstable masses shrank to the size of a finger. Pointed, coated with [Reinforcement] to retain their shape a moment longer, and deadly.

The barest hint of red shimmered at the bolts' tips, though they were barely visible as the structures whizzed through the air and straight into the Barbarian's chest. Something Hakon couldn't quite grasp was happening right in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. A fountain of blood much greater than expected spurted through the air, and both their eyes widened. Their reasons couldn't have been more different, and while the Barbarian had regained his balance momentarily, his strength faded.

[Circulation] active, weak point detected, Hakon did the only logical thing. He struck out, blade raking across his opponent's throat and slicing it wide open. The Barbarian collapsed dead to the ground, giving Hakon a moment to take in the situation around him. It was chaotic, for lack of a better word. Neither Hakon nor the other young warriors had ever been part of a battle on such a scale before. Heck, he doubted most warriors below the 3rd Ascension had participated in a tribal war.

Death was everywhere, and it wouldn't have surprised him if more Barbarians died to stray javelins or handaxes than in direct clashes. He loathed the chaos because it made planning more difficult. Hakon was about to leap back into battle, his next target already picked, when a group of Barbarians charged into one another, their clash swallowing his target and forcing her to join the melee. He barely caught her body transform, tufts of hair growing from her neck and cheeks, when something else caught his attention.

The chieftains. Rogarth fought hard. The ground beneath his feet split apart from raw power, all while flames burst from his thick, scaly armor. Flames surged to the side and back whenever a crimson blade carved through the air, yet the searing-hot fire that could melt even the greatest metals failed to reach the greatest of Barbarians. Chieftain Ragna was terrifying. He was Hakon's father, but even he couldn't help but stare in awe at the unfolding battle.

His father moved faster with every passing moment, making it feel as though he was removing seals that had locked his strength in place mid-combat. And with every seal removed, Chieftain Ragna's power grew more and more potent. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The ground stirred more violently the more power billowed from the chieftain, but he continued onward. He flashed, disappeared in a sudden blur, and reappeared holding the head of one of the Elders.

Pearot's strongest failed to even come close to him. They attacked furiously, their might more than enough to eradicate the rest of Tribe Taskur. However, they couldn't even touch Ragna. The more time that passed, the greater the gap in strength grew. It was as wide as a chasm already, yet it spread further, filling Hakon with certainty. Chieftain Rogarth would die, and his tribe would collapse and cease to exist. Their death was inevitable, or so he had hoped when the world trembled beneath Hakon's feet.

The tremors had been ever-present ever since his father joined the battle. It had been a faint vibration running through the earth and trees alike at first. But as the fight went on, the rumbling grew much deeper. The ground split apart beneath them, roots and trees snapping apart from what Hakon initially believed to be the power of everyone present. Yet now, something told him that wasn't the case. Something pulled at his attention, dragging him away from the chaotic battle and toward the distant mountain range.

He didn't expect anything, yet his body tensed and a torrent of mana surged out of his Core to defend him against what was about to come. Time seemed to slow to a crawl around him as it happened – an eruption split across the horizon. Flames and debris burst into the sky far in the distance. A pillar of liquid death clawed upward into the sky, dyeing the once-still mountain range red.

The shockwave followed moments later, flattening entire stretches of the dark forest as a pressure unlike anything Hakon had ever felt entered his perception. No. It was him who had entered its range. A head rose from the mountain. It was massive, though the word did not begin to describe it, and it resembled a Drake's, although Hakon would never dare to compare them.

Silver scales the size of huts reflected the crimson glow of the eruption while smoke and ash curled around gargantuan jagged horns that seemed to pierce the clouds themselves. Ancestors… what is that thing? He wanted to shout, but his body didn't respond as pressure crashed into him. The Barbarians around him staggered and groaned in pain. Some collapsed to one knee beneath the overwhelming presence, yet it felt several magnitudes heavier on Hakon.

His blood was boiling and heat flooded every part of his body until it felt like molten iron coursed beneath his skin. His muscles spasmed violently, mana rampaged through his channels until they felt like they were about to tear apart. Then, the creature turned its head, slow and deliberately, until it looked straight at him. Hakon shouldn't have been able to be certain about something like that.

How could he be so certain that the creature was looking at him when all of them were on the battlefield so far away from the mountain? He could not, yet he was. The moment the silver-scaled creature settled upon him, Hakon felt as though something reached into the depths of his very being, tearing through every layer of his existence. Every emotion, every weakness, and every ambition buried within him lay bare before something so impossibly vast. At last, the pain overwhelmed him.

His skull felt like it was about to burst apart. Blood snaked down his nose, eyes, and ears, his vision blurred suddenly, yet somewhere amidst the agony, something inside him changed. The pressure hammering against his body no longer tore through him as easily as before. His flesh, soul, and mind seemed to adapt, while his very being hardened beneath the impossible strain. The Scripture appeared before Hakon's eyes, bringing a strained smile to his lips even when he felt like he was about to die at any moment.

[Skill [Spirit Forging] has been learned.] [Resonance detected. Adaptive Resilience improved. Tier-1 → Tier-2] Unlike most of his Skill improvements, this one felt fundamentally different. It was instantaneous. Everything became clearer. The boiling sensation faded from unbearable agony into something he could barely manage. His channels no longer felt like they were about to tear apart at any moment, and his flesh endured the pressure with newfound resistance.

The improvements were so drastic that Hakon nearly gasped. Then, the pressure disappeared entirely. Not because of his Skills or his unbreakable will. Shaking, Hakon lifted his head with every bit of strength he could muster, only to see his father standing beside him. The strongest of the Barbarians towered over him like an unbreakable wall, unmoving despite the remnants of the divine pressure that had yet to leave the battlefield.

Blood poured from his nose and eyes alike, streaking down his face while every muscle in his body remained tense. His bloodshot eyes were locked onto the gargantuan creature in the distance, anger burning deep within them. But there was more. Hakon could faintly make out something much greater than anger. Hatred, deep and festering. There was also something else, something Hakon struggled to comprehend. Fear. His thoughts immediately rejected the idea. His father feared nothing.

He had to be wrong, his interpretation incorrect. Otherwise, how could fear and longing exist within the same gaze? It made no sense. There had to be another explanation. The moment passed, and the gargantuan creature from the mountain seemed to fade away. It vanished as suddenly as it appeared, yet the situation didn't change. Hakon regained the strength to turn and finally noticed the chaos around him. Barbarians, Pearot and Taskur alike, had retreated.

Yet, while Taskur's warriors stayed by Chieftain Ragna's side, Pearot's forces vanished into the forest, abandoning the fight without a second thought. Hakon tried to search for Pearot's chieftain and elders but they must have been among the first to leave. Of course, they did. Cowards. He spat, only to croak in pain. The battle between Pearot and Taskur may have ended, however, the war had just begun.

Amidst it stood Hakon, wielder of the Mind, surrounded by an unfathomable creature even the strongest of the Barbarians seemed to fear. So why was he not afraid like his father? And why did his desire to rise to become the next Warlord burn even brighter in his heart? Hakon had a thousand questions, and he couldn't wait to find answers to all of them. Whether that happened before or after he killed Chieftain Rogarth didn't matter.