Chương 31: Chapter 27

The stage was broken, its cracks filled with blood. Hakon was lying on the ground, his chest heaving heavily. Each breath drew on his strength, sending waves of searing pain through his lungs. He was exhausted but happy. Happy because Astrid was lying beside him, looking no better than he did. She lost the Battle of Generation… if one could really call it a loss. Astrid lost consciousness momentarily. It was only a fraction of a second, but that would have been long enough to end her life.

Everyone witnessed it, yet it didn't feel real. Of course, it didn't. Hakon would have died if not for [Natural Regeneration] or… just about every other Skill. Blood Fury was a legendary Ancient Power, yet it was not well-suited for a battle against a single person. Behemoth Blood was far more compatible for one-on-one combat. Astrid's power had already ebbed when the finale resumed. Still, Hakon won. He defeated a legendary power.

His position may have been advantageous, but he also made sure Astrid wouldn't be able to shed too much of his blood. He avoided her swift and deadly attacks often enough to level [Evasion] twice and [Combat Awareness] once. In return, Hakon failed to hit her often either. It took [Dash] combined with [Circulation] and a lot of patience to find the slightest hint of a pattern in Astrid's movements. It was hard, but he struck Astrid twice with Crusher, [Mana Infusion] amplifying his weapon, to crush her.

At some point in combat, Hakon had to consider using the bladed side of Crusher, but he decided against it once the flat side struck Astrid's thigh. After that, keeping tabs on her movements grew considerably easier–even if it took another strike to the head to knock her unconscious for a second. Hakon knew his evasive tactic wasn't particularly favored by the tribesmen or any Barbarian for that matter, yet Tribe Taskur celebrated him. Their roars echoed in his ears, bringing a smile to his lips.

They gave him the fuel needed to scramble to his feet and look around. The faces of those who ignored him as soon as the Rite ended were now beaming at him, celebrating his victory. But it was the faces of the Rootkeeper and other non-combatants that really caught his attention. Surprise was written all over their faces, followed by something else–something Hakon could not quite discern. Was that regret, confusion, or just a ray of hope? Hope that they could become true warriors just like Hakon did.

He embraced the thundering roars and cheers aimed at him and turned to the Shaman. His father stood beside the Shaman, his eyes as steely as ever. Yet the corner of his lip curled ever so slightly. Look at me, father! Is this enough for you? Can you see me now?! Hakon roared in his head, all while pumping more mana into [Natural Regeneration]. He stepped closer, Crusher lying somewhere on the battlefield, blood dripping to the ground.

"Welcome the victor of the Battle of Generation!" the Shaman said euphorically. His voice was not loud, yet it spread far and wide, easily reaching every corner of the tribehold. The cheers only grew more fervent, filling Hakon with pride and satisfaction. Yet, his attention remained on the Shaman and the chieftain.

"The Ancestors acknowledge your Feat. It has been noted and shall be used as the Feat that initiates your Saga. Embrace the Feat and let it guide you to a Saga worth remembering." The Shaman intoned. He was about to continue when his tattoos stirred. His eyes shifted and turned white momentarily.

"I must have been mistaken." He said quietly, his eyes locking onto him once they turned back to normal.

"This is not your first Feat. It is your second Feat, is it not?" Hakon nodded. He had nothing to hide before his tribe, let alone the Ancestors. Voices rang out from behind and beside him, filling him with pride as his tribe wondered aloud how he'd acquired another Feat. He smiled sensing the blazing gazes on him, yet the Shaman was all he saw at this moment.

"How curious." The Shaman murmured and continued a little louder for everyone to hear.

"The Ancestors praise you for your Feats. They are curious about your journey and will welcome you with open arms once your Saga concludes. Before that, you shall shed more blood in their names. Embrace their gift and use it wisely, for if you do, a Warlord will rise when the stars fall into their fated path." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Enhanced Comprehension stirred in the back of his mind.

It prodded him even though he had no Skill to use or a Skill he wanted to learn at this moment. He was just listening, yet Enhanced Comprehension wanted something from him. And if there was one thing he had learned ever since the Rite, it was to listen to the Ancient Power. He repeated the Shaman's words in his head over and over again, until it clicked. The Shaman is connected to the Ancestors, and they know what I have been up to. That much had been obvious to him.

Their people always told them that the Ancestors saw everything. That they knew their descendants better than everyone else–including oneself. The Shaman's bond with the Ancestors was also common knowledge. Embrace their gift. I am doing that already, am I not? And what is this about 'a' Warlord will rise when the stars fall into their fated path?

Maybe he interpreted too much into the Shaman's words, but they suggested that Hakon was not necessarily the Warlord who would reunite the tribes and reclaim the lands that had been taken all those cycles ago. It just meant that there would be 'a' Warlord as long as he leaned into his gift. And that gift had to be Enhanced Comprehension.

"I understand now." Hakon muttered, earning the Shaman's interest. The tattooed Barbarian looked at him expectantly.

"This is not the first Battle of Generation." he said, earning the chieftain's interest. Even the bright and excited cheers and roars simmered down a little.

"You are correct. This is the fourth and last Battle of Generation." The Shaman nodded calmly, the smile on his lips, giving Hakon the chills.

"Tribe Pearot, Katus, and Loush have already completed their Battle of Generation. Pearot was the first five cycles ago. The victor of their Battle of Generation did awaken a legendary Ancient Power during the Rite as well."

"Loush?" The chieftain spoke up for the first time.

"Loush was defeated and forced into submission two cycles ago." The Shaman narrowed his eyes at the chieftain but nodded anyway.

"By Tribe Pearot. That is correct." That wasn't good. Tribe Pearot had grown more active in recent cycles, but that hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. Every few cycles, a tribe would awaken enough hot-headed warriors with powers that led them to believe they could crush the neighboring tribes. More often than not, their first attack succeeded. But by the time the other tribes heard about it, preparations to retaliate and crush the aggressor were made.

Tribe Pearot survived long enough for the chieftain to tell Hakon about it. He did not go into detail, but the fact that his father had told him about Pearot in the first place was enough of a surprise. And now it all made sense. Tribe Pearot completed their Battle of Generation and believed they would rise to give birth to the next Warlord. That it would be their tribe that would reunite them like their ancestors had done all those cycles ago.

And to do so, they crushed the other tribes to demonstrate their superiority. That was the way of the Barbarian. The path the Ancestors desired; submission through bloodshed. The strong were fated to fight and rule, building Sagas worth remembering. The weak… nobody remembered them either way.

"Your guidance was appreciated." The chieftain said to the Shaman and hinted at a bow.

"We welcome your return next cycle. But for now, we will have to prepare for war."

"I will return in the next cycle." The Shaman nodded only, looking like he had expected as much.

"If your tribe is still standing."

"Fill the Ancestors with pride." Was the last thing he said before retreating. One moment he stepped into the crowd of Barbarians who were no longer cheering and roaring, and in the next, the Shaman's frame blurred. Hakon's eyes were locked on the Shaman's figure, yet it was almost like the older Barbarians faded from existence. He was there, then, just like that, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Why are you leaving? I have so many questions." Hakon grumbled quietly to himself. There was so much he would have loved to know. He may have won the Battle of Generation, but that didn't change one particular fact; it had only been half a fortnight since the Rite. Hakon was still far from knowing everything about Enhanced Comprehension. If anything, it felt like he'd only unraveled a snippet of its potential.

When he played with the Monolith's mana earlier, it was almost like he was about to discover something big, but the Monolith no longer emitted mana, nor did anyone in Tribe Taskur know much about it. They called it Lifeblood and used it internally more than anything. [Natural Regeneration] and some other Skills worked like that as well, but Hakon never heard about anyone learning [Flow Control], let alone its upgrade. I could learn more about Lifeblood Skills from other warriors.

That was a viable option, so why did it feel like talking to the Shaman would produce much better results? Hakon let out a sigh. He was still happy to have won the Battle of Generation, but recent news made it hard to celebrate. If anything, the Shaman's last words showed that it was time to train even harder. And to use the 'gift' wisely. That was his plan anyway, but he had yet to figure out how to do so.