Chapter 21

Hakon’s foe was yet another one of Ulfar’s friends. A Giant Blood warrior, his frame as wide as it was tall.

He was shorter than the average Barbarian, but his muscles were all the more tougher.

Fool 2 was his name, simply because he made fun of Hakon when he hadn’t even reached the 1st Ascension yet.

“I crush you, Hakon!” He growled, his muscles bulging as he triggered a Skill. It was hard to tell the details but [Mana Sense] revealed a shift in the ambient mana. It was subtle and interested Hakon a lot more than his enemy.

He’s using Lifeblood, is he not? After all he’d experienced, Hakon was confident that Lifeblood and mana were the same. Only the application was different. One was internal and used a warrior’s Ancient Power, the other was something everyone could use. Or should.

Fool 2 must have noticed something because he looked angrier than before. His fingers cracked as his grip around his massive mace tightened. Then he charged, starting the battle in front of the Ancestors.

Hakon hefted Crusher on his shoulder and kept it on him. He side-stepped the Giant Blood warrior’s charge, twisted his upper body slightly to the side, and burst into action only when the mace barreled past him. [Weakness Detection] flooded his mind with information, pinpointing more than a dozen weak spots, but Hakon focused on one. His free hand shot toward the warrior’s neck, mana pumping through his fingers as he chopped Fool 2’s neck.

Fool 2’s eyes rolled up until only the white could be seen and his body stiffened at once. The Giant Blood warrior collapsed to the ground, ending the battle before it even started.

Resounding silence was all that followed. There was no thunderous applause, no excited roars. Only utter silence that stretched far beyond the stage.

“What?” One of the warriors whisper-shouted, his voice traveling far and wide.

“Strong! I knew you had it in you, Hakon!” Björn’s thunderous shout shattered the silence, and silent murmurs filled the tribehold from anew.

Hakon smiled at his friends, eyes lingering on Astrid’s calm figure a little longer. She didn’t appear surprised at all, unlike Björn who looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Astrid gestured with her head toward the other side of the stage, her lips curling into a mesmerizing smile.

Hakon walked to the edge of the stage to rejoin his friends but came to a halt when he met Ulfar’s gaze. What he saw was raw anger and unfiltered hatred. He wasn’t even trying to hide his pure hate for Hakon at this point. That was new, so was the presence he emitted. It was heavy even from the distance, and it was almost certainly not Ulfar’s doing

“He’s not in full control of his Bloodline, is he?” Hakon mused quietly to himself, the corner of his lips curling upward.

It was not a massive grin, but it was enough to further infuriate Ulfar. The Bloodbearer leaped onto the stage, the impact cracking the stage open.

“Fight me, Hakon!” Ulfar half-snarled, half-slurred. “Let us end the rivalry of our parents once and for all! SHOW ME that strength of yours, and let me crush you to reveal to everyone that I am the better of the two of us!”

“We will fight.” Hakon nodded, batting off the presence as it embraced him, “But not now. The Shaman will decide when it’s our time to fight under the Ancestors’ watch.”

This was not Ulfar’s decision. It was not his call. Not even the chieftain had the authority to do such a thing.

“Move or I will remove you–….” Hakon’s father growled, taking a step toward the stage. A crimson hue oozed from his body, rage amplifying the Runeskin’s power.

Ulfar snorted and didn’t back off. Instead, he turned to the chieftain and took a stride toward him, lips curling into a predatory smile.

“Or you will do what exactly?” He let out a guttural growl.

“He’s lost his mind.” Björn shook his head like many others.

It didn’t look like that to Hakon. If anything, it felt like Ulfar was fighting himself. The Behemoth Blood to be precise. He hadn’t lost it yet, although it was obvious that the Behemoth Blood was getting to him. It feasted on Ulfar’s insecurities and his desire to beat Hakon, pushing him to let loose and crush his competition. And it was all for one reason: To show that his family deserved to rule the tribe. To resolve the issue his family had with the line of Taskur warriors.

Beating Hakon was only the first step – a necessary step to display their family line’s superiority. If they really were superior. The chieftain, for one, was much stronger than Ulfar’s father.

Regardless–

A cacophony of disappointed grunts and angry curses swept across the tribehold center as multiple events occurred at the same time.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

First, Ulfar’s reckless, uncontrolled actions tarnished the sacred ritual performed for the Ancestors and the Great One. His foolishness would not yet attract the Ancestors’ ire, but it was sure to come back biting Ulfar – and the rest of the tribe.

If they were unlucky, their youngest would have to wait several cycles for their Rite. Again.

Nobody wished for that, yet Ulfar’s behavior was only part of the reason the Barbarians acted like they did.

The disrespect was one thing. Ulfar’s loss of control of his power was another. The Ancestors rewarded him with a generous gift. A legendary Ancient Power that awakened only once in many generations. Ulfar was powerful, destined to become a powerful warrior, yet he wasted his Ancient Power by allowing it to take control.