Bloodlines of the Ancient Pantheons

Chapter 254: CCLIV. Sivert

"Yes, I noticed... she listened carefully to your words and those of Gridd, partially ignoring those of other people in the room. Anyway, I have to beat her to keep Warchief's title" Dag said, looking at Ellen from behind, as she giggled chatting with Kjell and occasionally turned to them.

"Her fighting style is unusual. Her attacks are not very fast, but her body is incredibly resistant. Master Ellen can use an ability that allows her to temporarily absorb and mitigate all damage, using a significant amount of energy. I'm sure she won't hesitate to activate it if things get bad for her" Freydis continued, walking next to her boyfriend, who listened intently to every word.

"Tell me more about her fighting style... what kind of weapon does she use?" he asked.

"So... usually she uses a kind of very long rod, which at its end has a cylindrical metalhead, equipped with spikes... but I doubt there's anything like this among the training weapons... I remember those wooden weapons, I think she will choose a spear or another long weapon, which guarantees her attacks a good range".

Dag nodded, trying to imagine that mighty woman moving nimbly with a spear in her hands.

In that case, it wouldn't be much different than when he faced Taya, who had a similar fighting style, preferring long, slow weapons to shorter, faster ones.

After descending from the platforms, the warriors were surrounded by many groups of people, who, taken from the alcohol and the euphoria of the moment, began to acclaim their names, thanking them for winning the battle and avert the danger.

The stalls serving food and drink had given Skjegg's grim colorless streets a more vibrant look.

"This way!" exclaimed Sander, asking Dag and the others to follow him and not stop to talk to citizens who asked thousands of questions, avoiding wasting any more time.

They continued through the main street until they reached a crossroads, which on one side led to one of the exit tunnels, and on the other it returned to the city, connecting that area to another district.

The road gradually widened and the houses gave way to taverns and inns, as well as the hut of a blacksmith, intent on sculpting a steel beam and a kind of butcher's shop, where two men were dissecting a large ox to obtain its meat and deprive it of the organs and fur.

Suddenly, after turning behind a small stone palace, the road became a round-shaped open space, very wide.

Around it, there were mighty stone and steel walls, useful to protect a building located in the center of the square, at the farthest point from them.

The building looked like a temple, without a roof and with low stairs leading to an altar, behind which there was an imposing throne carved into the rock.

On the altar, there were pots and junks of all kinds, perhaps heirlooms brought there by the locals, as offerings to Odin.

In front of the ruins of that temple, the huge circular square continued several hundred meters: near the walls, there were many steps of stone, similar to stands, and the fact that the square was not paved, made Dag guess that it was a kind of fighting arena. 

"Welcome to the Altar of the Raven, Skjegg's holiest place!" exclaimed Sander, his hands resting on his hips and his chest out, as if he was admiring a piece of art, which did not look so beautiful in the eyes of his guests. 

"It reminds me of the Jernhest Arena... It just is much more majestic and spacious!" commented Gridd, trying to be delicate so as not to hurt his interlocutor's sensitivity.

"What you said is not completely wrong... this is the place where, hundreds of years ago, the first true disciples of Odin challenged each other and offered sacrifices before him. It is said that Skjegg was born right around these ruins, stone after stone, brick after brick" Kjell said, in a solemn voice, looking upwards.

"In addition to being a place with incredible spirit, it is also the largest square in the city, allowing almost all its inhabitants to gather, making it suitable for public announcements" Sander replied, while Ellen stood by him in silence.

"Well then... let's move on" Dag said, determined to begin the challenge. 

The three Masters made their way to the ruins of the temple when from behind the altar, a curved, shabby figure walked slowly toward them.

He was a very old man, with shriveled and wrinkled skin, a pronounced hump behind his back and slightly crooked fingers.

To walk, he held himself to a staff, at the top of which were hung small bird bones and skulls, both of birds of prey and small rodents.

He wore a dress so long that it crawled to the ground and his face was completely colored white, with a red stripe splitting it in two, crossing his forehead, nose, and mouth.

"Masters... welcome back... I knew that the battle had been successful, I was with my eyes on you moment after moment..." said the old man, in a raucous and devious tone of voice, lowering his head down and holding on with both hands to the stick, while his lean arms like two birch branches trembled with the effort.

"Play the horn, Sivert. We have an important announcement to make" Sander ordered.

The old man obeyed without hesitation at the orders of his Master, first retreating without even raising his head, then turning slowly and reaching a second altar, slightly smaller, about 3 meters away from the first, on which a wooden beam held a gigantic horn, so long that it reached the ground, where a second wooden base supported its weight.

"Sivert is the shaman of Skjegg. He worships the Masters as if they were Gods" Freydis whispered in Dag's ear, explaining to him who the old man was.

The shaman, after taking a long breath, blew vigorously into the horn, which emitted a loud, deep sound and rumbled across the city, bouncing between the high walls of the Rocky Crown.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM