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.”

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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.