Chapter 70: The Blood Oath
Kellar swallowed the final chunk of meat as the flames of the bonfire illuminated the night. In that instant, a new translucent light flashed brightly before his eyes.
[Consumption Completed: 10 kg of meat processed]
[Emergency Condition Satisfied]
[Magic Core Successfully Created!]
Instantly, the suffocating heat threatening to burn him from the inside out vanished. Kellar felt all the energy scattered throughout his muscles surge violently toward the center of his chest, concentrating around his heart. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his side next to the bonfire. To the hunters’ eyes, Kellar’s body looked like a boiled lobster red and venting thick plumes of steam through his pores as excess mana filtered into the air.
Krag walked over stood beside him, and watched Kellar as he began to catch his breath.
"That... I don’t know if that was the dumbest or the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in my life," said Krag, letting out a low chuckle.
Kellar adjusted himself on the snow, listening intently as the warmth in his chest stabilized.
"Normally, I wouldn’t have even given you a piece of magical beast meat, you know?" said Krag, staring into the fire. "There are three trials in our tribe. The first is called the Trial of Courage; a hunter without courage is nothing more than dead weight on the team, and we cannot raise trash. That was the trial you passed first, and you passed both parts with honors. The first part is meeting the ancestors, where the Bear God tests you and finds you worthy or unworthy. The second part is valor: going out to hunt and facing nature. You won that too."
Krag paused, looking down at the Great Crocodile’s meat.
"But that doesn’t make you entitled to be a full hunter," said Krag. "That’s why, even though you earn the title in name, you aren’t asked for tribute for six months. At six months, there is a second trial where talent is tested: everyone is given a piece of magical beast meat. All those who suffer violent reactions like you will be discarded; only those who endure until the end will prove to have enough talent to become a true hunter. And the final trial is called Destiny. A piece of a beast’s heart is given to the youths. Anyone can... and listen closely, can, they aren’t forced to participate... only those with the courage and talent can test their destiny by eating it. Whoever survives will be the Shaman’s successor. Do you understand what you just did?"
Kellar looked at his still-steaming hands, grasping the weight of the warrior’s words.
"I am the Shaman’s successor..." said Kellar.
"That’s right," said Krag, nodding gravely. "The Shaman’s successor can manipulate the energy within these beasts’ bodies to unleash the ancestors’ blessings. None of us have the strength to do it; however, you do."
"I don’t think the Leader and the current Shaman will allow it," said Kellar.
"It doesn’t matter if they want to or not," said Krag. "Tomorrow at dawn we will go, and all that’s required is for you to stand before the Bear God’s altar. If the altar reacts to you when you touch it, you will be declared the Shaman of this generation and you can take your place."
"And if they don’t let me?" said Kellar.
Krag raised his gaze toward the rest of the group. Kellar followed the veteran’s eyes and saw Marty, Lupar, Grok, and all the hunters in the squad kneeling on the snow before him, raising their weapons toward the sky in absolute silence. It was the sacred oath to follow him unto death.
"The birth of a Shaman is not something to be played with," said Krag, drawing his own mallet and stepping to the front of the warriors. "If anyone tries to do anything against the chosen one, they will be killed without mercy."
"Without mercy!" shouted all the hunters in unison, making the valley shake with their roar.
Kellar observed the scene before him. The determination on the hunters’ faces left no room for doubt: they had made their decision, and there was no turning back. With the warmth of the new magic core pulsing steadily in his chest and the unconditional backing of the squad’s best warriors, the scales of power had just tipped in his favor.
"Understood," said Kellar, standing up with renewed resolve. "Let us rest and save our strength. Tomorrow at dawn, we take what is rightfully ours."
The night passed under strict vigilance around the property. While the families of the wounded rested in relief and the four recovering hunters showed clear signs of improvement with stable temperatures, Krag and his men took turns guarding the entrance to ensure no one from the village attempted a night ambush.
As the first rays of sunlight illuminated the snowy crests of the trees, the procession set off. Kellar walked in the center of the group, flanked by Krag, Marty, Lupar, and Grok, as dozens of curious villagers began stepping out of their huts upon noticing the squad’s imposing march.
Upon reaching the village’s central square, right before the Bear God totem where the sacred altar stood, the atmosphere turned to ice. The Shaman and the Clan Leader were already waiting for them alongside a dozen armed guards, their faces contorted with shock at the sight of Kellar alive and walking with authority.
"What is the meaning of this insolence?!" shouted the Shaman, brandishing his staff in rage. "You traitors were forbidden from entering the sacred grounds!"
Krag stepped forward, slamming the butt of his mallet against the snow with a dull thud.
"Shut your mouth, old man!" shouted Krag, his voice echoing through every corner of the settlement. "Kellar has consumed the Great Crocodile’s heart and survived! We are here to claim the trial of the altar!"
A deafening murmur rippled through the crowd gathering around them. The Shaman turned deathly pale on the spot, taking a step back as disbelief and terror took hold of his face.