Chapter 23

The warrior screamed at the top of his lungs, his leg crushed to smithereens.

Was that too much? Hakon didn’t think so. Barbarians healed fast enough. If anything, the warrior should thank him for granting such a great opportunity to learn [Natural Regeneration] or a similar Skill. He may as well acquire something far greater in a healer’s presence.

Cheers and excited roars pulled him out of his train of thoughts. He was not yet rewarded with a thunderous commotion following his victory, but more and more Barbarians cheered for him. It was almost like they finally understood that there was more to combat than raw strength. That his Ancient Power was not useless!

The Ancestors were satisfied with his fight, so was Astrid and the others.

[Dash] improved by one, while [Sensory Expansion] improved twice in quick succession. A welcome surprise.

Several other Skills felt like they were close to improving as well. Just thinking about it made Hakon’s heart beat faster.

Satisfied, he glanced back to the healer tending to the squashed leg. The emerald light coming from the healer’s hand caught his attention. Was that mana? The light coming from the stage had also been mana. Even as it dispersed, glowing motes of mana lingered in the air. They grew dimmer by the moment and were only visible through [Mana Sense], but that only made them more interesting.

Hakon wanted to reach for the motes and capture them. Maybe even dismantle them to find out what made those motes so different from the Monolith’s raw mana and regular ambient mana.

The difference between regular mana and the Monolith’s mana was not much different. It interested him how it came to be – and how to replicate it. The Monolith’s mana was much purer than regular mana. It felt more potent, like a trace of the Monolith’s mana was worth a handful of the ambient mana. If it was really that powerful, Hakon wanted to wield it as well. But it eluded him. It resisted him and slithered through his fingers and around his body even as he triggered [Circulation] to pull it into his body.

Trying the same with more motes of light produced more substantial results. He could only absorb a few motes, whereas the rest glowed brighter as his mana seeped into them.

“What do you have there?” Astrid cocked an eyebrow at him.

Björn looked at the glowing motes with a deep frown and spat on the ground. “He is acting like the Lightcaller!”

Hakon ignored his friends and focused on the motes, both the motes entering his pathways and those resting in his palm. They were quite different, yet all the same, and [Split Focus] triggered to scrutinize the movements of both. Then he dismantled them. Or tried to before realizing that it required mana.

It was not that he couldn’t dismantle the motes, but it cost mana. A lot of mana from the way it felt. Too much to waste during the Battle of Generation.

Instead of wasting more mana, Hakon reigned it in and focused on recovering. That did not stop the heavy sigh escaping his lips.

Slowly, the Battle of Generation headed toward closure. The number of warriors dwindled with every victor. Another round of bloody carnage ended with the untimely death of two young warriors. And once again, one of them fell victim to Ulfar’s brutal fighting style.

It was a mess, and Hakon wondered for the umpteenth time if the Ancestors really wanted all this. To swim in the blood of their descendants, slain by their very own people, but who was he to question the oldest forces? Instead, he studied Ulfar. He watched the man who was thirsting for his blood every step in combat. Hakon went as far as to use some of his replenished mana to use [Sensory Expansion], and [Flow Observation], and [Split Focus] while also maintaining [Mana Sense], [Combat Awareness], and [Weakness Detection].

It was the first time he used so many Skills simultaneously. It was also the first time his mana split up to empower three Skills at the same time.

He half-expected his head to throb, to be in unbearable pain as he analyzed Ulfar’s short, yet all the more brutal, fight. But that did not happen. Hakon felt the pressure of every Skill used. It quickly added up and transformed into a constant stream of pressure. That was all. The pressure did not worsen, nor did it lighten even as they improved. All he noticed was a stark improvement in the information he received…and his mana reserve dropping a little too fast for his liking.

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Alas, the fight ended quickly, and Hakon deactivated most Skills. He only left [Mana Sense] and [Combat Awareness] active, his attention on Ulfar. His feral state didn’t abide. If anything, it felt like Ulfar leaned more and more into it, greedily absorbing the power Behemoth Blood provided.

Only eight warriors remained when the next round started. Three more fights – three wins – and the greatest warrior of the youngest generation would be decided.

Hakon’s goal was so close. It was within reach, his progress far surpassing what the others thought he would achieve. Even his father looked at him differently than before. He was calm, his expression the same as always, but something deep within his dark eyes had changed.

He finally saw his son. Recognized him.

“The final spurt may commence.” The Shaman intoned, his voice booming across the tribehold center, “The Ancestors are excited. They praise the power the youngest warriors earned in such a short time. In half a fortnight two dozen warriors acquired the Ancestors’ favor through challenges lethal and awe-inspiring. But they want more. They wish to witness the rise of the next Warlord on this very stage.”

The Monolith’s golden etching glowed vibrantly, illuminating the stage in a golden hue. It shimmered with more potent mana than Hakon had ever seen.