The once daunting chamber now stood silent, save for the labored breathing of the trio. Their bodies were screaming in pain, but their minds were numb as they unconsciously took in the sight.
An iron stench of blood, organs trailing out of wounds, filled the room overwhelming their senses. The place was a rotten mess, one that looked straight out of a horror movie.
Glancing at the bodies, Zayzal caught Einar’s mangled corpse. His stomach twisted and churned at the sight as bile threatened to come up. Forcing it down, he turned away, unable to handle the trauma right now.
He just… needed a second to regain his bearings.
Gunnar and Sera weren’t much better. But though there was sadness in their eyes, there was also respect and admiration.
Closing their eyes, they smacked their chests with their right fist and prayed, “Mun ek sjá þik í Valhǫll, bróðir minn. Máttr ok megingjarn, ár ok sæla fylgi þér á vegi þínu(I will see you in Valhalla, my brothers. May strength and valor, peace and happiness follow you on your journey.).”
In their village, death was merely the beginning. Should they die in battle, they would be accepted into Valhalla and live with honor and glory for eternity. It was considered an honor to die in battle in their culture.
They were one of the few tribes on Earth that still carried on the traditions from Norse Mythology, or in their words, Ásatrú (Faith in the Aesir).
As they recited their prayers, Zayzal watched. He was curious about what they were saying but felt it wasn’t right for him to ask something like that as the mood was tense.
Sensing his gaze, Sera turned to him and gave a sad yet optimistic smile, “We were just saying we’ll see them in Valhalla and that may they be happy on the rest of their journey.”
“Valhalla?” Zayzal’s eyes widened. “You mean, like the Norse Mythology Valhalla?” He asked in shock.
Sera nodded, laughing as she found his expression funny.
“You believe in that stuff?”
Sera nodded again. “Of course!” She exclaimed. “Our ancestors were the ones who helped spread the religion. How could we, as their descendants, not practice their beliefs?”
“So, you guys really are Vikings…” Zayzal muttered in surprise.
“Not Vikings. Just their descendants.” Sera corrected, but Zayzal barely listened to that last part.
Although he had expected it based on their physiques and beliefs, it still came as a shock to him.
Vikings hadn’t been around for centuries, yet here he was, standing next to their direct descendants! People who were basically living history!
How amazing was that?!
He had so many questions, like why they were living in a remote mountain village. Why did they still practice Norse Mythology? Were Vikings really giant hulking human beasts that conquered land and sea?
However, Sera didn’t care about his thoughts.
“Anyways, enough about that!” She exclaimed, taking him out of his stupor. “What was that thing you did earlier? How did I get so strong by following those pathways?” She asked while flexing her arms and legs. The muscles all over her body were even more defined than before they entered the dungeon, something she hadn’t noticed until now.
‘My bones feel so much stronger than before, and my muscles denser! I feel like I might be able to take on my Father right now!’ She grinned from ear to ear, just thinking about sparring with Sigurd, her Father.
“I… I’m not sure.” Zayzal responded, trying to remember what happened. “I just saw lines in your body and figured that following them would help us get out of this situation. I guess it’s an ability of mine? I’m not sure.”
“Oh? Like my ability to create barriers? But instead of that, you can make people stronger?” Sera asked, her eyes shining like two little stars.
Zayzal nodded, but with a doubtful look, “Maybe? I don’t think that I’m able to make people ‘stronger’. I think I’m just able to show people how to get stronger in regards to their… talent…”
As soon as Zayzal said the word ‘talent’, it was as if he had an epiphany. He thought of his two abilities, [Adaptability] and [Pathfinder], and realized that they weren’t abilities but rather talents.
Building on that, the orbs that he saw inside people were representations of their talents. He didn’t understand what the different colors meant, but if he was right, Sera didn’t have one talent like everyone else, but two!
The Barrier one she had must be the Gold orb, while the Red most likely had something to do with physical strength.
‘No. I shouldn’t come to any conclusions for now. Not until I’ve done a bit more testing.’ Zayzal thought.
While he was lost in thought, Sera had run up to him and grabbed his shoulder, nearly crushing it with her increased strength. “Talent? You’re right! These must be the talents we gained after the light descended! So? What talents do I have? What do you see?”
Zayzal struggled out of her vice-like grip, trying not to let out a peep, before answering. “I knew the names of my talents instinctively, but from what I can tell, you have two of them. One is the barrier, and the other probably has something to do with your physical strength.”
He instinctively put his hands on their backs and sent faint pulses of energy inside their bodies. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was doing this; it just came naturally.
However, his control was extremely poor. He didn’t know what he was doing or how. He was simply following his intuition.
Sera immediately closed her eyes, concentrating on her body. Gunnar did the same.
As the foreign energy coursed through their body, the two recalled the feeling of pain they experienced after the light descended. It was as if they had been struck by lightning. A part of them seemed to be revealing itself, something they always had but was only unlocked after their bodies changed.
Slowly, the fog in their minds and bodies began to lift, and a whole new world would be revealed to them.
About 30 seconds later, Sera opened them with a wide smile. “You’re right! I do have two talents! One is [Enhanced Strength]. While the other is [Barrier Constructor]. I guess you helped me improve my [Enhanced Strength] talent back then.”
“I have [Augmented Speed]!” Gunnar ran up to him, excitement written all over his face. “No wonder I lived! Can you make me stronger too?”
Zayzal was about to say yes, but he soon caught himself. Looking around at the blood-slicked floor, this wasn’t the best place to be testing things out. Not to mention, he was exhausted.
“Let’s wait until we get back to the village.” He said, causing their moods to instantly shift. “After everything’s over and I’ve had a good rest, we can see if I can help you get stronger.”
Nodding with somber expressions, they stopped fooling around. Sera and Gunnar turned and walked over to the dead bodies, bone fragments crunching under their every step, preparing to bring them back to their village where they could give them a proper send-off.
Meanwhile, Zayzal walked over to the ornate chest they had spotted earlier and opened it up.
Inside the chest were gold coins, gemstones, and a peculiar dagger with a hilt carved from what looked like bone, adorned with a sapphire gemstone.
Zayzal reached out and grabbed the dagger. It was almost a perfect fit for his hand but was considerably heavier than most other daggers. He slid his thumb across the edge and nearly nicked his finger from how sharp it was.
“This could be useful.” Zayzal muttered and put it back in the chest. They would all go through this when they got back.
Lastly, he turned his attention to the glowing blue crystal that the black wolf was lying behind. He reached out to grab it, but before he could reach it, the crystal pulsed with energy.
A moment later, a blue goblin manifested in front of him.
Quickly grabbing the dagger from the chest, Zayzal stabbed the goblin in the neck before it could attack. Snapping his neck to the blue crystal, he quickly grabbed it.
He pulled back, but the crystal seemed as if it was stuck in the air. After tugging at it for a few moments, Zayzal finally snatched it, but the thing crumbled into pieces almost instantly.
The jagged shards of the crystal fell through Zayzal's fingers and turned to ash, scattering onto the chamber's cold stone floor. He gazed down at the pile of dust, noticing the pulsating blue light they emitted, which slowly diminished.
Shaking off the dust, he put the dagger in his pocket, still wary of anything else spawning.
Gunnar and Sera joined Zayzal, their arms laden with the lifeless forms of their comrades. Gunnar's eyes flickered with restrained emotion as he cradled the body of a younger warrior, one he had trained since childhood.
However, they noticed fresh blood on the ground and a new body next to Zayzal.
“What happened?” Sera asked.
Zayzal answered, “I’m not sure. Another goblin just spawned from the crystal, so I destroyed it, but I don’t know if that did anything.”
“Hmmm…” Sera thought for a moment. “Let’s go back to the village first. This place isn’t too far away, so we can just send a team of people here to keep an eye out just in case more spawn.”
The two men didn’t have any problems with that and nodded.
After gathering everything, as well as giving the large stone room another once-over, they retraced their steps after not finding anything else. The dungeon was still littered with corpses, but this time, the hallway didn’t seem so narrow.
Exiting the cavern, the stark contrast between the outside world with the horrors inside was almost jarring. The pure, white, untainted snow glistening in the moonlight made it seem like nothing happened.
The snowstorm was getting worse, so all of their footprints were already covered by the time they left. But Sera, knowing this area like the back of her hand, was able to easily direct them back to the village.
As the trio approached the village, the distant sounds of clashing weapons and shouts pierced the serenity of the snowy landscape.
Sera’s heart raced, fear and anticipation flooding her system. "The village!" she shouted, quickening her pace.
They started running, feet sinking into the fresh snow, making their way back to the village as quickly as possible. Their already tired bodies were pushed to the limits, urged on by the adrenaline rush.
As they neared the village, the sight that greeted them was somewhat unexpected. The villagers, especially the men, were cleaning up the remaining goblins and wolves.
Gunnar gave a relieved chuckle, "Looks like they have things under control."
The once-white snow had turned a deep shade of crimson as hundreds of corpses littered the area, both monster and human. It was clearly a fierce battle, but one that they had won nonetheless.
Among the fighters, an older man, heavily built with a great beard, was leading the charge. It was Sigurd, Sera's father. He swung his massive axe, effortlessly cleaving through a goblin.
The remaining creatures, realizing they were no match, began to retreat, shrieking and scampering away from the village but not before they were struck down by archers.
Zayzal watched in awe. The village might have looked unassuming and peaceful during the day, but its inhabitants had clearly been prepared for a nighttime assault. Their proficiency in combat was undeniable, and it was evident that Sera and Gunnar had inherited their skills.
Once the last creature had been killed off, Sigurd approached the trio concerned yet pride evident in his eyes. He glanced at the bodies they were carrying, his gaze lingering on each fallen warrior.
Sera ran up to him, patting the old man on the back. "Father! We succeeded!"
Sigurd almost tumbled forward due to her strength and gave his daughter an odd look.
He raised an eyebrow, inspecting his daughter and the two men accompanying her. He couldn’t help but notice the significant changes in her physique, the way her muscles seemed more prominent, and the light in her eyes was stronger than he remembered.
"Hva har skjedd med deg?" (What has happened to you?) Sigurd asked, looking at his daughter with a mix of surprise and concern.
Sera hesitated, her gaze briefly shifting to Zayzal before returning to her father. “Vi fant en dyp hule og kjempet mot noen monstre.” (We found a deep cave and fought against some monsters.) She explained, “Zayzal hjalp oss. Han viste meg hvordan jeg kunne bli sterkere ved å fokusere på mine talenter.” (Zayzal helped us. He showed me how to become stronger by focusing on my talents.)
Sigurd's gaze shifted to Zayzal, studying him intently. "Er det sant?" (Is this true?)
Sera translated for him.
Zayzal, still a little out of breath, nodded. "Yes, but we can talk about it later. We should focus on tending to the injured."
Sera translated Zayzal's words to her father, who nodded in agreement. “Ja, du har rett.” (Yes, you are right.)
Turning back to Zayzal, Sigurd extended a rough hand in gratitude. "Takk for å hjelpe datteren min. Du må være trett. Vi vil gi deg et sted å hvile." (Thank you for helping my daughter. You must be tired. We will provide you a place to rest.)
Sera quickly translated for Zayzal, who gratefully accepted the offer. "Thank you. I could use some rest."
As much as he wanted to help out right now, he couldn’t. He’s been through too many life-or-death battles today and gone through too many emotions. He just needed some time to settle down a bit before he jumped into anything else.
Sigurd gestured towards one of the huts. “Sera vil vise deg.” (Sera will show you.)
Sera nodded and led him to a cozy hut. Inside, there was a simple bed, some furs for warmth, a tub of water he could wash off in, and a small fire burning, casting a warm glow in the room.
“I’ll wake you up in a few hours. I’m going to help the rest of the village.” Sera said before dashing out of the hut.
Zayzal didn’t get a chance to respond, but he wasn’t unhappy with what she said.
Whenever she returned, he hoped there would be food.
Sitting on the bed, Zayzal slumped over, looking at his blood-stained hands. He sat there in silence for a while, not moving as he reflected on today’s events. Nothing seemed to be going right today and he just needed this brief moment of peace, regardless of how much his [Adaptability] talent tried to force him into a comfortable state.
The once daunting chamber now stood silent, save for the labored breathing of the trio. Their bodies were screaming in pain, but their minds were numb as they unconsciously took in the sight.
An iron stench of blood, organs trailing out of wounds, filled the room overwhelming their senses. The place was a rotten mess, one that looked straight out of a horror movie.
Glancing at the bodies, Zayzal caught Einar’s mangled corpse. His stomach twisted and churned at the sight as bile threatened to come up. Forcing it down, he turned away, unable to handle the trauma right now.
He just… needed a second to regain his bearings.
Gunnar and Sera weren’t much better. But though there was sadness in their eyes, there was also respect and admiration.
Closing their eyes, they smacked their chests with their right fist and prayed, “Mun ek sjá þik í Valhǫll, bróðir minn. Máttr ok megingjarn, ár ok sæla fylgi þér á vegi þínu(I will see you in Valhalla, my brothers. May strength and valor, peace and happiness follow you on your journey.).”
In their village, death was merely the beginning. Should they die in battle, they would be accepted into Valhalla and live with honor and glory for eternity. It was considered an honor to die in battle in their culture.
They were one of the few tribes on Earth that still carried on the traditions from Norse Mythology, or in their words, Ásatrú (Faith in the Aesir).
As they recited their prayers, Zayzal watched. He was curious about what they were saying but felt it wasn’t right for him to ask something like that as the mood was tense.
Sensing his gaze, Sera turned to him and gave a sad yet optimistic smile, “We were just saying we’ll see them in Valhalla and that may they be happy on the rest of their journey.”
“Valhalla?” Zayzal’s eyes widened. “You mean, like the Norse Mythology Valhalla?” He asked in shock.
Sera nodded, laughing as she found his expression funny.
“You believe in that stuff?”
Sera nodded again. “Of course!” She exclaimed. “Our ancestors were the ones who helped spread the religion. How could we, as their descendants, not practice their beliefs?”
“So, you guys really are Vikings…” Zayzal muttered in surprise.
“Not Vikings. Just their descendants.” Sera corrected, but Zayzal barely listened to that last part.
Although he had expected it based on their physiques and beliefs, it still came as a shock to him.
Vikings hadn’t been around for centuries, yet here he was, standing next to their direct descendants! People who were basically living history!
How amazing was that?!
He had so many questions, like why they were living in a remote mountain village. Why did they still practice Norse Mythology? Were Vikings really giant hulking human beasts that conquered land and sea?
However, Sera didn’t care about his thoughts.
“Anyways, enough about that!” She exclaimed, taking him out of his stupor. “What was that thing you did earlier? How did I get so strong by following those pathways?” She asked while flexing her arms and legs. The muscles all over her body were even more defined than before they entered the dungeon, something she hadn’t noticed until now.
‘My bones feel so much stronger than before, and my muscles denser! I feel like I might be able to take on my Father right now!’ She grinned from ear to ear, just thinking about sparring with Sigurd, her Father.
“I… I’m not sure.” Zayzal responded, trying to remember what happened. “I just saw lines in your body and figured that following them would help us get out of this situation. I guess it’s an ability of mine? I’m not sure.”
“Oh? Like my ability to create barriers? But instead of that, you can make people stronger?” Sera asked, her eyes shining like two little stars.
Zayzal nodded, but with a doubtful look, “Maybe? I don’t think that I’m able to make people ‘stronger’. I think I’m just able to show people how to get stronger in regards to their… talent…”
As soon as Zayzal said the word ‘talent’, it was as if he had an epiphany. He thought of his two abilities, [Adaptability] and [Pathfinder], and realized that they weren’t abilities but rather talents.
Building on that, the orbs that he saw inside people were representations of their talents. He didn’t understand what the different colors meant, but if he was right, Sera didn’t have one talent like everyone else, but two!
The Barrier one she had must be the Gold orb, while the Red most likely had something to do with physical strength.
‘No. I shouldn’t come to any conclusions for now. Not until I’ve done a bit more testing.’ Zayzal thought.
While he was lost in thought, Sera had run up to him and grabbed his shoulder, nearly crushing it with her increased strength. “Talent? You’re right! These must be the talents we gained after the light descended! So? What talents do I have? What do you see?”
Zayzal struggled out of her vice-like grip, trying not to let out a peep, before answering. “I knew the names of my talents instinctively, but from what I can tell, you have two of them. One is the barrier, and the other probably has something to do with your physical strength.”
He instinctively put his hands on their backs and sent faint pulses of energy inside their bodies. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was doing this; it just came naturally.
However, his control was extremely poor. He didn’t know what he was doing or how. He was simply following his intuition.
Sera immediately closed her eyes, concentrating on her body. Gunnar did the same.
As the foreign energy coursed through their body, the two recalled the feeling of pain they experienced after the light descended. It was as if they had been struck by lightning. A part of them seemed to be revealing itself, something they always had but was only unlocked after their bodies changed.
Slowly, the fog in their minds and bodies began to lift, and a whole new world would be revealed to them.
About 30 seconds later, Sera opened them with a wide smile. “You’re right! I do have two talents! One is [Enhanced Strength]. While the other is [Barrier Constructor]. I guess you helped me improve my [Enhanced Strength] talent back then.”
“I have [Augmented Speed]!” Gunnar ran up to him, excitement written all over his face. “No wonder I lived! Can you make me stronger too?”
Zayzal was about to say yes, but he soon caught himself. Looking around at the blood-slicked floor, this wasn’t the best place to be testing things out. Not to mention, he was exhausted.
“Let’s wait until we get back to the village.” He said, causing their moods to instantly shift. “After everything’s over and I’ve had a good rest, we can see if I can help you get stronger.”
Nodding with somber expressions, they stopped fooling around. Sera and Gunnar turned and walked over to the dead bodies, bone fragments crunching under their every step, preparing to bring them back to their village where they could give them a proper send-off.
Meanwhile, Zayzal walked over to the ornate chest they had spotted earlier and opened it up.
Inside the chest were gold coins, gemstones, and a peculiar dagger with a hilt carved from what looked like bone, adorned with a sapphire gemstone.
Zayzal reached out and grabbed the dagger. It was almost a perfect fit for his hand but was considerably heavier than most other daggers. He slid his thumb across the edge and nearly nicked his finger from how sharp it was.
“This could be useful.” Zayzal muttered and put it back in the chest. They would all go through this when they got back.
Lastly, he turned his attention to the glowing blue crystal that the black wolf was lying behind. He reached out to grab it, but before he could reach it, the crystal pulsed with energy.
A moment later, a blue goblin manifested in front of him.
Quickly grabbing the dagger from the chest, Zayzal stabbed the goblin in the neck before it could attack. Snapping his neck to the blue crystal, he quickly grabbed it.
He pulled back, but the crystal seemed as if it was stuck in the air. After tugging at it for a few moments, Zayzal finally snatched it, but the thing crumbled into pieces almost instantly.
The jagged shards of the crystal fell through Zayzal's fingers and turned to ash, scattering onto the chamber's cold stone floor. He gazed down at the pile of dust, noticing the pulsating blue light they emitted, which slowly diminished.
Shaking off the dust, he put the dagger in his pocket, still wary of anything else spawning.
Gunnar and Sera joined Zayzal, their arms laden with the lifeless forms of their comrades. Gunnar's eyes flickered with restrained emotion as he cradled the body of a younger warrior, one he had trained since childhood.
However, they noticed fresh blood on the ground and a new body next to Zayzal.
“What happened?” Sera asked.
Zayzal answered, “I’m not sure. Another goblin just spawned from the crystal, so I destroyed it, but I don’t know if that did anything.”
“Hmmm…” Sera thought for a moment. “Let’s go back to the village first. This place isn’t too far away, so we can just send a team of people here to keep an eye out just in case more spawn.”
The two men didn’t have any problems with that and nodded.
After gathering everything, as well as giving the large stone room another once-over, they retraced their steps after not finding anything else. The dungeon was still littered with corpses, but this time, the hallway didn’t seem so narrow.
Exiting the cavern, the stark contrast between the outside world with the horrors inside was almost jarring. The pure, white, untainted snow glistening in the moonlight made it seem like nothing happened.
The snowstorm was getting worse, so all of their footprints were already covered by the time they left. But Sera, knowing this area like the back of her hand, was able to easily direct them back to the village.
As the trio approached the village, the distant sounds of clashing weapons and shouts pierced the serenity of the snowy landscape.
Sera’s heart raced, fear and anticipation flooding her system. "The village!" she shouted, quickening her pace.
They started running, feet sinking into the fresh snow, making their way back to the village as quickly as possible. Their already tired bodies were pushed to the limits, urged on by the adrenaline rush.
As they neared the village, the sight that greeted them was somewhat unexpected. The villagers, especially the men, were cleaning up the remaining goblins and wolves.
Gunnar gave a relieved chuckle, "Looks like they have things under control."
The once-white snow had turned a deep shade of crimson as hundreds of corpses littered the area, both monster and human. It was clearly a fierce battle, but one that they had won nonetheless.
Among the fighters, an older man, heavily built with a great beard, was leading the charge. It was Sigurd, Sera's father. He swung his massive axe, effortlessly cleaving through a goblin.
The remaining creatures, realizing they were no match, began to retreat, shrieking and scampering away from the village but not before they were struck down by archers.
Zayzal watched in awe. The village might have looked unassuming and peaceful during the day, but its inhabitants had clearly been prepared for a nighttime assault. Their proficiency in combat was undeniable, and it was evident that Sera and Gunnar had inherited their skills.
Once the last creature had been killed off, Sigurd approached the trio concerned yet pride evident in his eyes. He glanced at the bodies they were carrying, his gaze lingering on each fallen warrior.
Sera ran up to him, patting the old man on the back. "Father! We succeeded!"
Sigurd almost tumbled forward due to her strength and gave his daughter an odd look.
He raised an eyebrow, inspecting his daughter and the two men accompanying her. He couldn’t help but notice the significant changes in her physique, the way her muscles seemed more prominent, and the light in her eyes was stronger than he remembered.
"Hva har skjedd med deg?" (What has happened to you?) Sigurd asked, looking at his daughter with a mix of surprise and concern.
Sera hesitated, her gaze briefly shifting to Zayzal before returning to her father. “Vi fant en dyp hule og kjempet mot noen monstre.” (We found a deep cave and fought against some monsters.) She explained, “Zayzal hjalp oss. Han viste meg hvordan jeg kunne bli sterkere ved å fokusere på mine talenter.” (Zayzal helped us. He showed me how to become stronger by focusing on my talents.)
Sigurd's gaze shifted to Zayzal, studying him intently. "Er det sant?" (Is this true?)
Sera translated for him.
Zayzal, still a little out of breath, nodded. "Yes, but we can talk about it later. We should focus on tending to the injured."
Sera translated Zayzal's words to her father, who nodded in agreement. “Ja, du har rett.” (Yes, you are right.)
Turning back to Zayzal, Sigurd extended a rough hand in gratitude. "Takk for å hjelpe datteren min. Du må være trett. Vi vil gi deg et sted å hvile." (Thank you for helping my daughter. You must be tired. We will provide you a place to rest.)
Sera quickly translated for Zayzal, who gratefully accepted the offer. "Thank you. I could use some rest."
As much as he wanted to help out right now, he couldn’t. He’s been through too many life-or-death battles today and gone through too many emotions. He just needed some time to settle down a bit before he jumped into anything else.
Sigurd gestured towards one of the huts. “Sera vil vise deg.” (Sera will show you.)
Sera nodded and led him to a cozy hut. Inside, there was a simple bed, some furs for warmth, a tub of water he could wash off in, and a small fire burning, casting a warm glow in the room.
“I’ll wake you up in a few hours. I’m going to help the rest of the village.” Sera said before dashing out of the hut.
Zayzal didn’t get a chance to respond, but he wasn’t unhappy with what she said.
Whenever she returned, he hoped there would be food.
Sitting on the bed, Zayzal slumped over, looking at his blood-stained hands. He sat there in silence for a while, not moving as he reflected on today’s events. Nothing seemed to be going right today and he just needed this brief moment of peace, regardless of how much his [Adaptability] talent tried to force him into a comfortable state.
