Verdant felt anger building within him, that past days had told a story of villagers and warrior fighting to save their home. All of it was leading to this moment. ‘I know they’re gone, I killed them myself. It still feels wrong seeing these monsters breach the walls and flood in like some kind of plague.’
A warmth in his chest grows, searing throughout his channels. ‘My wyrd heart is responding.’
He clenched his fists and felt the sparks between his fingers. ‘Well, if they’re going to give me such a wonderful target… who am I to refuse.’
Verdant gathered his mana, more than half of what he had remaining. He felt it moving through his body to his core before travelling to his fingertips.
A tinny resonance began as the power hit his warpick and started to build in the head. The sound grew as the power did and soon it was loud enough to drown out the sound of the maelstrom above.
Lightning sparked off the blue glowing metal of his warpick.
Pointing at the flesh abominations with his weapon; Verdant let go.
A single brilliant blue streak of lightning flashed out before splitting into more than a hundred branches and striking the approaching force.
Verdant was annoyed when he saw ghostly shields appear seconds after the strike, cutting off the majority. The power continued to flow, striking against the barrier. ‘Well, some made it through, but those shields are going to be a problem’
Cracks began to appear in the wall as Verdant maintained the stream of electricity. He had received several kill notifications, but he wouldn’t get any more until he could break through the barriers protecting the enemy force.
He doubled down, releasing more lightning across the field.
Just as a tinkling shatter was heard, Verdant felt searing pain hit his side. Glancing over, he saw a dark flaming ball, glowing with a green light, as it slammed into his side.
The spell took him under the ribs and threw him across the field. He hit the ground heavily, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
Verdant looked to his resources and saw that one attack had reduced his health from around seventy-five percent to less than thirty and his mana sat deep in the red, no more than fifteen percent.
‘Guess I got a bit focussed for a minute there. I had no idea that fire ball was coming at me. I didn’t even see which one did it. It had to be the commander Bolva was talking about, right?’
He tried to move and was horrified to find that his body wouldn’t respond. ‘What the fuck! I should be able to move, is it some kind of impairment or debuff from the spell? It must be…’
Verdant took a moment and looked to his notifications. ‘Maybe something here will help me.’ There it was. The most recent notification.
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="600">
? ALERT! ?
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="600">
You have been affected by a debilitating Curse.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="600">
Soul Seizure
Corruptive death magic has invaded your body and seized control of your Wyrd System!
If you fail to break free, your soul will be forcibly converted, and you will rise as one of the undead.
Wyrd and mana circulation severely impaired.
Gradual corruption of stats and skills.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="600">
Time Remaining - 14 minutes 41 seconds
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
‘FUCK! I need to figure this out.’ In the distance Verdant heard the formation come to a halt. ‘What are they doing, come and kill me you bastards!’
He struggled for a couple of minutes, willing his body to move. No matter how hard he tried, his body simply wouldn’t respond.
‘It’s taken over my wyrd system… what about circulation?’
Closing his eyes, Verdant saw the state of his channels. They were clogged with thick, black energy, pooling in places and preventing the natural flow of his own energy.
Looking further to his wyrd heart, he found that it was sealed tight. No energy was coming in or going out. He entered inside and found a gaseous mass above the familiar liquid in his basin.
‘I can’t let any new stuff in, but maybe I can condense this energy and treat it with my lightning before pushing it out into my body and trying to cleanse the filth from my channels.’
Willing the external valves to shut tight, Verdant started to rotate the liquid in his wyrd heart. The vapour above twisted, pulling down to the liquid in a funnel before dripping on top, like oil on water.
One drop after another, the pool grew and when all the vapour was condensed, he had a pool of liquid no bigger than the palm of his hand.
He stopped circulating and the new liquid lifted off and floated before him. It started to whisp, not wanting to retain this liquid state without the force of the vortex to keep it there.
Verdant placed his mental fingers around the liquid, compressing it into a ball before raising a hand and calling forth his innate lightning energy from the rune on the wall of his heart.
Electricity shot forth in a stream, striking his fingertips and gathering there.
He placed this hand back upon the contained liquid and watched as it changed.
The liquid took on a silvery sheen like mercury, with an electric blue glow. The energy shot through the changed mana discharged arcs of electricity from the surface.
He will the liquid up to the exit valve of his wyrd heart and willed it through the membrane and into his body.
Immediately he felt a jolt as it left. Like pins and needles. It grew and grew as the energy spread out from his chest. He looked with his mental sight and saw how his power seemed to attack the invasive energy, striking it and breaking it down into mana which fed his own power.
As it progressed, the lightning began to darken. It struck less frequently and moved slower through his body until it came to a dead stop.
‘Ah shit, it didn’t even reach my limbs and half of my torso is still infected. I don’t have anything left to do that again and I can’t circulate any external wyrd into my heart without dragging the death energy with it.’
Verdant sat his mental avatar within his wyrd heart. ‘I guess that’s it then. I failed to clear the energy away and now I’ll either become undead or the actual undead will kill me. Maybe if I stay here, I won’t feel it.’
He felt a kind of peace come over him as he accepted his fate. ‘I was living on borrowed time anyway. Maybe there’s some way I can explode my wyrd heart. Maybe I can kill myself before they get the chance…’
Looking to the rune engraved on the wall of the core, he sighed. ‘I guess this was as far as I could go this time.’
Verdant wasn’t sure how to do what he had in mind, but he figured the energy in the bottom of the basin should be enough to do something if he tried to use it.
He willed all the liquid up into a single mass When the last of it left the bottom of his wyrd heart, he started trying to condense it all down with his will.
Slowly it shrank as he mentally squeezed the dense liquid. Smaller and smaller, the liquid condensed further, becoming thicker until a core was formed, as large as his head.
In that moment he felt something else. Something familiar. He had felt it before but couldn’t quite remember where. He’d felt it every time he’d come into this space, just now that the liquid was condensed, he felt it much stronger than ever before.
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
System Prompt
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
You have condensed a fragment of divinity aligned with your lineage and combined it with the Hugr of your Wyrd Heart. Altering it in an unpredictable manner.
Would you like to consume this fragment to empower you Bloodline?
YES? NO?
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
‘Wait… I never absorbed it. I never decided with the prompt; I got caught up with Bolva and forgot about it! Is this where it was stored? In this ‘Hugr’?’ He reached out and touched the glowing orb. Electricity jumped from his fingers to its surface as he caressed the orb.
‘Yes.’ Verdant watched as the orb left his reach, losing its shape before exiting through the membrane of his core. He felt it the instant the power touched his channels.
Agony ripped through every aspect of his being as the power seared through all his channels. Then, he felt it through his physical circulatory system, running from the veins in his flesh, back through his body and to his heart.
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He felt a small explosion as the energy entered his primary vascular organ.
Then it began. His core glowed with a golden light, the walls began to spin, the rune engraved their speeding up until it became a continuous line of blue around the edge.
Black, corrupted energy entered his core, pouring through the membrane. Before it could damage his core, golden light fell from the walls and entered the liquid. Black energy disintegrated, leaving behind untainted golden liquid, slowly filling his basin once more.
Blue and red vapour poured from the liquid as it swirled and out into his body kicking up his regeneration and pulling more corruption from his body. Within seconds all of the putrid, stagnant energy had been scoured from his channels and his wyrd heart was more full than ever before.
The glorious horns of the Aesir sound and golden screens before him, one after another.
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
System Prompt
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Through the partial absorption of a divine spark aligned with your blood line and infused with your personal Hugr your lineage has been stimulated and restored your resources and cleansed all contaminants in your body.
Other changes may occur as your body continues to absorb the spark within you.
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Skill Unlocked!
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Corruption Resistance (Bloodline Unique) 0 > 10
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Your bloodline has awakened in defiance of decay. The impurities within you have been forcibly expelled, reinforcing your soul’s natural resilience against all that would taint it.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Tier 0 – Beginner Proficiency Bonus (0-10)
Beginner Tier Complete: +15 Vitality +15 Wisdom.
<ul>
<li>(Passive) Resistance to Corrupting Forces – Reduces the effectiveness of corruption-based effects by 5% per level. (Current 50% at Tier 0 Completion).</li>
<li>(Passive) Purging Resilience – If afflicted by Corruption, your body will instinctively attempt to cleanse itself, increasing Wyrd Circulation speed by 25% while resisting.</li>
<li>(Passive) Touched but Untainted – Reduces lingering effects of soul corruption and prevents permanent degradation at resistance 50% or higher.</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Your Aesir Heritage resists the influence of Corruption Magics. Continued exposure may lead to further awakenings…
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Skill Unlocked!
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Death Resistance (Bloodline Unique) 0 > 10
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Your soul does not yield. Death’s grip has tried and failed to claim you. Through sheer will and divine bloodline resonance, you have denied the creeping grasp of annihilation.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Tier 0 – Beginner Proficiency Bonus (0-10)
Beginner Tier Complete: +15 Vitality +15 Strength.
<ul>
<li>(Passive) Defiance of the Grave – Reduces the effectiveness of death-based abilities, necrotic energy, and soul-draining effects by 5% per level. (Current 50%).</li>
<li>(Passive) Soul Integrity – Your Wyrd Core now instinctively fights back against soul-seizing effects, reducing their duration and potency. If resistance is high enough, some effects may be outright negated.</li>
<li>(Passive) Echo of the Fallen – If struck by a fatal soul-reaping effect, you may delay its full impact for 1 second per level. (Potential survival window: 10 seconds).</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Your Aesir Heritage resists the influence of Death Magics. Continued exposure may lead to further awakenings…
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Verdant smiled, ‘Looks like Eirikr is still looking out for me, huh? I’m bloody happy I didn’t use this thing earlier.’
He willed his consciousness back to his fallen form in the real world and was pleased to find that his body would respond to his commands once more. Rolling over, he got to his feet and looked at the approaching army. ‘Huh, they actually did stop.’
Looking to the frontline, he saw the fleshy trolls standing in the front, blocking his sight of most of the army.
‘I might have my energy back, but that doesn’t change the fact that I just used almost everything I had and only killed a few of the lesser undead over there… How am I going to beat them? And where the hell is the prick that threw that fireball at me?’
“So, you are still among the living. That is unfortunate.” Verdant looked toward the voice and shook as an instinctive terror ripped through his body.
The rotting trolls parted and from between them came a figure wrapped in robes woven from shadow, their tattered edges dissolving into the air like mist. Its skeletal hands, blackened by void energy, burned with violet fire. A deep, slow pulse of magic radiated from it, like the world itself was resisting its very presence.
<table width="609">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="605">
? Reithr [Void Lich] (Boss) – Level ??? {Voidborn}?
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="605">
Skill level too low. Information Unavailable.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="605">
Primary Abilities
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="605">
<ul>
<li>Voidflame Surge – Hurls a condensed sphere of voidfire, consuming mana and vitality alike. Burns beyond the physical, searing the soul itself.</li>
<li>Shackles of the Unmade – Unleashes spectral chains that latch onto the wyrd of its prey, suppressing abilities and draining resistance over time.</li>
<li>???</li>
<li>???</li>
<li>???</li>
</ul>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="605">
A creature like this should not be. You stand at the threshold of oblivion.
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
‘Ah… there it is. Great, a friggin’ boss.’ Unease niggled at his resolve.
“You would defy me? The great and powerful Reithr? I have been freed after millennia and all that stands between me and my quest is you, flesh bag. You stand alone. There are none who fight with you and yet you would face me and my horde. Are you dull, or has madness taken your mind?” Verdant was shaken from his ruminations when the Lich spoke.
Looking at the creature he felt despair, but he could not help but feel a measure of determination. “Yeah. I am alone, and I will probably die here to your monsters. But you can be damn sure that I will give everything I have to send your boney arse back to whatever rotting pic your crawled out of. Count on it!’
Grasping his weapon with both hands, Verdant charged across the field.
Summing his shield to his left arm he protected his body from attack.
The lich simply looked on, watching him approach.
When Verdant got within thirty metres of the horde Reithr raised his hands, dark flames condensed in a ball between them.
He stopped in place, preparing for an attack, flaring his electricity out to create a protective barrier.
The fireball left the lich’s hands and approached at a blinding pace.
Verdant barely had time to get his head behind the shield when the spell impacted, exploding in a conflagration of oily black flame.
He was thrown from his feet, flying through the air for several meters before landing on his back.
Gasping for air, he struggled to his feet. ‘I can’t block those spells head on, let’s be honest, the lich’s level has to be well above my own, why else would it have returned question marks?’
‘Use us oh lord. We await your call. Use us!’
A legion of voices spoke in unison in his mind. ‘What the fuck is that?’
‘Use us! You have freed us from servitude, now we will fight for you.’
Verdant felt the pouch on his hip begin to vibrate. He touched it and a pile of crystals fell out onto the ground. ‘The soul fragments? Why have they come out?’
Looking to the maelstrom of souls above him, and finally, he understood.
‘YES! USE US!’
While Verdant now understood what was being asked of him, he had no idea where to begin.
He felt for that feeling within him, that guided his journey and told him things sometimes. He focussed intently trying to feel anything, begging it for help.
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
? System Notification ?
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Bloodline Stimulation Detected!
Divine Resonance Active...
Parsing Lineage...
Validating Connection...
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
? New Trait Unlocked! ?
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Frigga’s Insight (Bloodline-Unique)
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
The all-seeing, all-knowing mother of the Aesir watches over her own. A fragment of her wisdom flows through your blood, manifesting as instinct beyond mere thought.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Trait Effects:
· The Guiding Hand – Your intuition sharpens, leading you toward hidden truths, lost relics, and the unseen paths forward.
· Fate''s Subtle Whispers – Grants an innate sense of danger, opportunity, and deception, even beyond conscious awareness.
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
The threads of wyrd weave ever onward. You are both bound and weaver alike.
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
‘So this is what has been guiding me, It’s nice to know it’s a part of me and not some external influence messing with me.’ Verdant was alarmed as his body moved by itself. Raising his left hand, he felt power well up within him. It was different to his usual energy somehow, almost primordial.
A resonant sound echoed from his throat creating words that were strange and unfamiliar to him.
Rís, ó víkingar, bundnir af ?rl?g,
Rentr frá lífi, en innsiglaeir í hatr.
Keejur harmar, b?ndur meinans,
Brokkie nú — standie enn á ny!
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Skill Unlocked! 0 > Undefined
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Call of The Valorous [???] (Bloodline- ?????)
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
A skill reserved for the ???? alone, granting the right to summon the fallen warriors of ages past. The ???? ?????heed your call, [REDACTED]
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Alert!
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
This skill is beyond your state of being. Can not pay required energy cost.
Searching for alternative.
Alternative found.
Pay the cost with partially integrated Divine Spark(87%)?
YES? NO?
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center" width="601">
Yes Verdant. Pay the cost. There will be other opportunities.
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
He mentally confirmed the prompt and felt a terrible pain in his body and soul as something that had recently become a fundamental part of him was ripped away before it could fully settle.
Golden light poured from his mouth and eyes, forming a familiar orb, it floated in place for a moment before ascending at great speed and disappearing into the maelstrom above.
The vortex stilled and the howling stopped. Golden light peeked through the clouds above.
Then it began.
Souls fell by the hundreds like rain from the sky above.
The crystals at his feet rose up into the air before meeting the souls halfway.
There the crystals took on the glowing masses and changed, they became clear and lustrous like the finest cut diamonds before glowing forms erupted from their surfaces and fell the rest of the way to the ground.
Before him stood three hundred and fifty glowing forms. They were once shambling skeletons draped in tattered armour, wielding rusted weapons.
No longer corrupted, they now stood whole once more. Proud Raeskir, all standing at least two meters tall. Armour and weapons gleamed with a polished shine, glowing with an ethereal golden light.
Four souls were the last to fall as the twisting vortex above dissipated. Eirikr and Rimulf the champion and the berserker formed by his left side. Freyja and Aesgir the mage and the assassin stood by his right.
The legion before him turned, as one, facing the enemy and slammed their fists against their chests bellowing a cry. One filled with pent up emotion, rage at their imprisonment and joy at finally being freed.