Chapter 276: Chapter 275: Stolen Victory
One by one, the Einherjar warriors vanished from the battlefield. A flash of steel in the dark, a muffled gasp, a body dragged into the shadows before anyone could notice.
(You have devoured the God-Touched’s essence. 55 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the God-Touched’s memories and experiences.)
(You have devoured the God-Touched’s essence. 55 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the God-Touched’s memories and experiences.)
The larger figures resisted, spirits burning bright, but with Skitz and Lumberling’s teamwork, they stood no chance.
(You have devoured the Spirit-Bound’s essence. 250 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Spirit-Bound’s memories and experiences.)
(You have devoured the Spirit-Bound’s essence. 250 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Spirit-Bound’s memories and experiences.)
The glow of runes faded from the battlefield, the blessed ones snuffed out before their power could tip the scale.
From the shadows, Lumberling and Skitz retreated, leaving no trace but the confusion that spread among the Vikings as their strongest warriors suddenly stopped appearing.
Meanwhile, Kairo roared for his men to advance, unaware that unseen hands had cleared the deadliest obstacles in his path.
"Stand firm! Push them back!"
The men surged with renewed fury, thinking his voice alone had turned the tide. They struck harder, shields locking as if the gods themselves had answered their young commander.
None of them saw the shadows moving just beyond their reach.
But Kairo believed it. In his heart, he felt it burn, they had followed him, and he had led them to victory.
The clash raged on, steel ringing and blood soaking into the earth. For a moment, it seemed Kairo’s hundred might hold. Then a low chant began to ripple through the Viking ranks.
"Warden. Warden. Warden."
At first it was a murmur, but it spread like wildfire, hundreds of throats pounding his name like a war drum.
The Vikings’ formation split down the center, shields parting as a monstrous figure stepped forward. The ground seemed to shudder beneath each stride.
Bare-chested despite the cold, his skin was carved with twisting runes that pulsed with blood-red light. His breath came in heavy snorts, like a beast straining against its leash. Eyes burned like coals under a heavy brow, and in his hands he carried an axe that looked more like a slab of iron than a weapon.
When he slammed it against his shield, the sound cracked like thunder.
"Stand aside, weaklings," the Berserker Warden bellowed, his voice rolling over the plain. He swung his giant axe as if it weighed nothing. Soldiers were crushed in a single blow, shields splintered, screams tore through the air.
Kairo alone stepped forward, raising his sword with both hands. His voice rang clear, even though his chest tightened like a drum.
"Your fight is with me!"
The Warden’s grin spread slowly. He pointed the axe at Kairo as if singling him out for sacrifice.
"Then die, little knight."
The two collided.
Kairo’s blade met the Warden’s axe in a crash that shook the ground. Sparks spat from the impact, the force rattling the young Knight’s bones. He staggered back, arms screaming with pain, but before he could draw a breath the Berserker pressed forward.
The axe came down like a thunderbolt. Kairo barely twisted aside, the blade grazing his shoulder and tearing through mail and flesh. He hissed in pain, but forced his sword up to meet the next strike.
The clash rattled his grip. His knees bent, almost buckling, before the Berserker’s kick sent him flying into the dirt. His weapon nearly slipped free of his hands.
"Too weak!" the Warden bellowed, raising his axe high.
Kairo rolled by instinct, the blade slamming into the ground where he had been a heartbeat ago. Stones shattered, dirt exploded into the air. His ears rang, but he sprang back up, parrying another blow. The edge tore past his guard, nicking his cheek.
A second swing came for his ribs, he ducked, stabbing forward on reflex. His sword cut shallow across the Berserker’s chest. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Still, the Warden laughed, grinning through the blood. "Is that all, boy?"
Kairo’s eyes flicked beyond the towering brute, his men were screaming. Shields splintered, bodies thrown, blood spilling across the earth. Every cry tore at his chest, heavier than the axe bearing down on him.
One soldier he had just rallied was cleaved in half. Another was dragged down by two Vikings, his death scream cutting short.
Kairo’s teeth clenched, his heart pounding like war drums. Rage, grief, and pride all twisted together until something inside him snapped.
"No... I won’t lose!"
He roared, pushing off the dirt. His aura flared wild, his sword moving with a speed that hadn’t been there moments ago.
The Warden swung again, Kairo sidestepped by the width of a hair, steel grazing his armor. He countered with a sharp slash that carved into the giant’s thigh.
Another strike, Kairo raised his blade at the last second, the axe skimming past his ear. He spun, cutting across the Warden’s chest, drawing a deeper line of blood.
The Berserker’s grin faltered. His eyes narrowed.
Kairo’s own burned with desperate fire. Each time death nearly claimed him, he answered with a strike of his own, sharper, faster, and stronger. His body should have given in long ago, but willpower alone drove him.
The Warden snarled, his monstrous strength meeting resistance for the first time. He pressed harder, yet with every clash Kairo refused to fall.
Then, in the chaos, something shifted, the Berserker took a step back.
And Kairo surged forward, roaring, his sword arcing down like fate itself had chosen him.
From the shadows, Lumberling narrowed his eyes.
"This kid..." he murmured, watching the impossible unfold. "He actually got stronger in the middle of the battle."
Skitz tilted his head, frowning in disbelief. "Where did that strength suddenly come from, and he’s matching someone at the level of True Knight? Is he some sort of chosen one?"
Lumberling didn’t answer and calmy observed Kairo. He could almost see it happening, Kairo suddenly gaining strength which led to the Warden’s fall, his strength becoming stronger after this battle. It looked like the birth of a hero, the kind of tale sung in taverns, where a youth rose against the odds and slew a monster before him.
The boy’s final strike came, his sword arcing down toward the Berserker’s chest, one moment from glory, or ruin.
That was when Lumberling moved.
His muscles coiled tight, every fiber of his body trembling as mana surged through him like a storm trapped inside a cannon barrel.
Three skills layered, fusing into a single killing thrust. Lightning gathered at his feet as Thundering Lunge snapped to life, his aura compressing with Spearheart Thrust, sharpened into a deadly triple vector by Triple Fang.
The air shuddered.
Then he released it.
His spear tore through the Berserker Warden’s chest, ripping flesh and bone with unstoppable force. The giant’s eyes bulged wide, shock etched into his face. Blood burst in a crimson spray, splattering the dirt as his knees gave way.
The battlefield seemed to pause as the Berserker hit the ground with an earth-shaking thud, his axe slipping from lifeless hands. While the cheers of Vikings died on their lips.
(You have devoured the Berserker Warden’s essence. 1500 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Berserker Warden’s memories and experiences.)
(Odin’s Blessing has become Level 1. Power +100.)
Kairo froze, disbelief twisting into rage. His body trembled from exhaustion, blood running down his chin, yet his voice lashed out like a whip.
"You bastard... why are you here?! That was my victory!"
He staggered, coughing, too broken to lift his sword.
"I’ll tell Viscount Lireath you shamelessly stole my kill!"
All he could do was spit curses at the man who had saved him.
Lumberling only smiled faintly. "That’s my payment for helping you out. Help your men before all of them die."
With that, he turned his back and walked away.
On the field, the soldiers began to stir. One soldier saw the giant beneath Kairo’s feet.
"The Warden... he’s down!" his voice shouted in disbelief.
"Kairo struck him down! The young Knight did it!" another cried, his shield shaking in his hands.
Their despair flipped into wild, desperate hope. Men who had been moments from collapse straightened, surging with strength they didn’t know they still had. Ragged cheers broke out, carrying through the clash as if the impossible had just been done before their eyes.
Rallying to Kairo’s name, they hurled themselves forward with renewed fury. To them, it was his sword that had toppled the giant. None had seen the shadow flash past, nor the spear that struck too fast to follow.
In the treeline, Lumberling pulled his weapon free, blood dripping from its tip. Skitz glanced at him with a smirk.
"Told you," Lumberling said calmly, rejoining him. "That kid really had almost won that one."
"Almost, yeah," Skitz snorted. "But how did he get that burst? Where did that strength come from all of a sudden?"
"Not sure how it works," Lumberling said with a shrug, eyes still fixed on the field. "Maybe a blessing... or something close to it."
Skitz glanced back at Kairo, his smile faded as a wary caution crept in and he marked the young man with his gaze. "So we just leave him be?"
"For now." Lumberling’s voice was flat with patient. "If we strike him down here, Agathis will wonder. Things might get complicated."
His gaze lingered on Kairo. "Our chance will come, I don’t intend to leave prey alive for long."