Chương 23: Chapter 20

"Children of our blood, the Ancestors see you, and they remember every name that shaped our kind." The Shaman intoned, voice heavy with implication, "Today you fight not for yourself but for the Ancestors and the Great One." He spread his arms wide out, his etchings glowing ever so faintly as a heavy pressure descended upon all of them.

"Show them what our people are made of. What they died for. Make them proud. Shed the blood of your enemies in their names!" The Shaman didn't stop right there. However, his voice changed tune. The words coming out of his mouth could no longer be understood. They were a gibberish mess to the ears of all those around Hakon, yet they made his hair stand on end. His heart was racing, his excitement rising, and he was not the only one. Hakon felt something brush against his skin and activated [Mana Sense].

Mana, pure and wild, flowed past him. It surged in all directions, its presence affecting all those it reached, yet it never stopped and moved outward. Seeking the source of the wild mana, Hakon redirected his focus to the Shaman. But while the Shaman was shrouded in wild mana, he was not its source. The origin of the wild mana was behind the Shaman, towering high and mighty. The Monolith. Lost in the beauty of pureness and the danger of the wild, he couldn't cast his gaze aside.

He was bewitched, wild mana pumping all over the Monolith's golden etchings like life itself.

"Boring." Björn's voice came from the side, pulling Hakon back to his senses. Only then did he realize that the Battle of Generation had already started. Two young warriors had already been called on to the stage, their bare chests pushed out in an imposing manner. Or so it should have been. Instead, they looked weird as they pumped their chests out way too much.

"What are they? Birds trying to impress potential mates?" Astrid shook her head in disgust. Hakon remained silent, trying to analyze the young warriors for telltales of the 1st Ascension, Bloodbearer powers, as well as changes induced by newly acquired Skills. While it was difficult at first, he used [Combat Awareness] and [Inspection] when combat started. [Weakness Detection] triggered on its own, pinpointing a dozen areas both warriors didn't bother guarding. Instead, they charged at each other.

They wielded swords of similar size, height, and quality, and neither bothered with protective gear. No warrior wore more than one piece of armor. Even that was oftentimes frowned upon. Regardless, the warriors were not particularly powerful. Neither had reached the 1st Ascension. Their physical might was still admirable but considering both were Bloodbearers of Giant Blood, it was mediocre at best.

"Low bloodline potency." Hakon muttered to himself before circulating mana into his eyes. He didn't bother with [Circulation] but the traces of mana that lingered in his eyes improved his vision anyway. A Skill to improve my vision would be useful. He mused and made a mental note.

"They're still Bloodbearers. Unlike you, boarface!" Someone behind him grunted.

"So?" Hakon asked, not even bothering to turn around. He knew the voice's owner, and it did not surprise him in the slightest. Ulfar's friends. One of the clingy ones. His name was of no importance.

'Fool 1' was probably more fitting anyway.

"Their might is greater than yours, boarface!" Fool 1 growled, "They stronger than you ever will!" Neither Astrid nor Björn seemed to like what they heard. Björn turned around with a red face, his large hands reaching for the oversized handaxes hanging by his side, but Astrid was faster. She was a flash, a river of blood and pain, as she lunged forward, her fist connecting with Fool 1's face. A sickening crack rang out, quickly followed by a pained yelp.

Meanwhile, the battle on the stage continued as two brutes struck each other head-on. There was little tactic involved in their movements. They relied on their physical strength and the power granted by Levels to overpower their foe. Alas, it looked like they were both at the same Level. Even their [Sword Mastery] didn't look much different. It was almost ridiculous to watch as the warriors exchanged one cut with another.

They wounded each other, though neither seemed to mind as their Bloodline attuned bodies regenerated rapidly.

"Did they only acquire [Sword Mastery]?" Hakon muttered, while the chaos behind him continued. Astrid had already returned to his side but Björn wasn't done yet.

"You are not a boarface. I think you look good. Great. Much better than those brutes." Her voice rang in his ears, low and…hesitant? He turned to Astrid's beet-red face, their eyes meeting for the faintest fraction of a second before she turned back to the battle, turning even redder than before.

"I'm happy to hear that." Hakon's waist bumped into Astrid's, "But you look even better." Normally, he would have returned to watch the battle. Leave the situation as is. There were more important matters to take care off, after all. But somehow, Hakon couldn't be bothered. His eyes lingered on Astrid, her abashed face stirring something that had been sealed deep in his heart for as long as he could remember. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

He leaned closer to her face, his heartbeat loud enough to swallow the world's sounds and whispered gently into her ear, "You are the most beautiful woman in the tribe." Astrid froze for a moment. Then the corner of her lip curled up.

"Only beautiful?" She turned her face to meet his eyes before he could fully back up, a hint of temptation sparking within them.

"Of course, not." Hakon laughed, "You are the strongest as well. Or you will be once you beat your mother." Astrid grunted something incomprehensible and flicked Hakon's forehead, yet she looked mostly satisfied with the answer she received. Her waist brushed Hakon's and she didn't separate right away. Instead, Astrid leaned into him for a moment.

"You guys can mate later. Not now." Björn appeared beside them, his fists covered in blood. A glimpse back showed Fool 1 on the ground, his face resembling a boar's after one too many run-ins with massive trees. His eyes were shining from his clash with Fool 1, but he tried – and failed – to look all gruff. Like he hadn't been rooting for Astrid and Hakon for cycles. Turning back to the stage, the winner of the first battle left the stage with a limp.

He was covered in cuts and deeper gashes that were slowly healing, but the amount of blood spurting all around him was staggering. The Bloodbearer's improved regeneration was likely the only reason he was still standing. His foe had to be carried to a younger Barbarian waiting beside the Shaman. Emerald light came from his hands, mending the fallen warrior's wounds.

"Looks like he will make it." Hakon said evenly even as blood spurted from the wide-open wound on the warrior's neck.

"Even if he does, he lost the Battle of Generation." Astrid shrugged, not even gracing the fallen warrior with a second glance. No matter what happened next, those who lost the Battle of Generation, the first round specifically, had disgraced themselves in front of the Ancestors. From this night onward, they would be seen as the weakest of their generation. To change that, they would have to accomplish a great feat. Conquer Fractures and hunt the greatest horrors. All that just to erase the disgrace.

Remove it from their Saga.

"What if I lose?" Hakon asked suddenly, which earned him a glare.

"You won't lose." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I'm no Bloodbearer." He said calmly.

"So what?" Astrid narrowed her eyes at him, irritation seeping into her voice, "You are you. The Ancestors know that too."

"The Mind." Björn muttered beside them, his expression grim.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Astrid snapped, her eyes taking on a crimson touch. Bloodlust oozed from her eyes, prompting Björn to raise his hands.

"How about you rein your tigress?" He looked at Hakon, who only shrugged.

"She is not my tigress…" Hakon said, while Astrid's crimson eyes flicked to him, making him smile.

"... yet. Also, I don't think I can or want to control her. If you annoy her enough to get attacked, I would probably cheer for her rather than trying to stop her. I do not want to die just yet." That seemed to satisfy Astrid. It was also enough to push Björn into letting out a few curses. He mentioned mating a lot more often than necessary, the mischievousness in his eyes as obvious as always, but that was all there was. Until he was called to the stage alongside the young warrior who'd awakened as a Rootkeeper.

"I will be back in a minute." Björn smiled predatory and cracked his knuckles in anticipation.

"Don't make fun of him." Hakon said, slowing his friend.

"I am serious. Even if the Ancestors have chosen a different path for him, he is still useful to the tribe. If you disgrace him, he may leave the tribe, leaving us with one less Rootkeeper to tend to our fields." While Barbarians rarely left the tribe they were born in, it did happen in the past. More times than not, their departure stirred trouble. Caused problems that could have been easily avoided if the Bloodbearers and Blessed warriors hadn't acted on their superiority.

They were a tribe of fighters, but he clearly remembered his mother saying that all tribesmen were important. That they required a tight-knit community to grow even more powerful. Every tribeman was important, whether they fought to shed blood for the Ancestors or not. It was just that the Taskur tribe seemed to have forgotten that. Or maybe it was just the younger generation. I will make sure they understand. The Mind was ridiculed. It was not a power worthy of the Barbarians' recognition. That was foolish.

Maybe even beyond foolish. Enhanced Comprehension was powerful. Incredibly so, yet his own people made fun of him for that. They thought lightly of him. Even Björn wasn't taking him seriously. Hakon could tell that the bear-like man was disappointed. He couldn't understand how the Ancestors could have picked The Mind for his friend. He didn't understand that Enhanced Comprehension was the best Hakon could have wished for.

"I see." Björn scowled, clearly unable to understand what Hakon had just said, and walked on to the stage. The Rootkeeper was ready, spear brandished. He, too, had trained to fight monsters and beasts for cycles. Alas, the Ancestors' had a different path in mind. Be that as it may, the Rootkeeper did not suddenly lose the strength he'd acquired from cycles of hard work. Unfortunately, acquiring combat-based Skills with a Rootkeeper power was difficult.

Not impossible, but it was at least twice as difficult for a Rootkeeper. In the same instance, he could learn how to tend to a field or take care of livestock with ease, depending on the nature of his Rootkeeper power. As for those with Blessed powers or Bloodlines, their bodies were treasures. They'd learn Skills closely related to their powers with ease. The Blessing of the Bear enhanced Björn's endurance and power greatly.

He let out a roar that reverberated throughout the tribehold center, forcing all eyes toward him as soon as the fight began. Then he charged, the ground beneath him shaking. The Rootkeeper stood no chance. Not that it surprised Hakon. It would have been more surprising if the Rootkeeper had earned more than two or three Levels since the Rite. That too only because he tended to a field or hunted a few weaker beasts without the help of the Ancestors' Skills. As for Björn, he was a deadly weapon in every possible way.

He was a ginormous bear, his massive handaxes tearing through the Rootkeeper's spear first and the Rootkeeper's chest next.

"Too much, Björn. Too much." Hakon grumbled, rubbing his nose bridge in frustration. If he was to become the next chieftain, something had to change. And he was given the perfect opportunity to do so with the Battle of Generation. All he had to do was to crush everyone. Simple, right?