Chapter 7: “The Temple of the God of War”

The principles on which we base our lives

We spent the whole morning helping to load the goods onto the wagons, everything was correctly ordered and distributed to avoid overloading the animals that pulled them, their hooves were checked and fed properly, after lunch, several artisans recommended by the Artisans Guild arrived at the camp, they were goldsmiths and potters, who came to offer their products, were the gifts that they would bring to those who remained in the village.

The objects would be bought on credit, there were several employees of the Craftsmen's Guild who took careful notes of each item purchased, later the Merchants Guild would pay for all the objects, and the next time the tribe comes to trade, the amount of the purchase of handicrafts would be deducted from their earnings, this system had been in place for many years, and it served to remind me of how strong the relations were between the Gray Wolves and the Trade Guild.

While the rest of the adults worried about getting the right gifts, my parents took me to the farthest sector of the city, the temple built to the God of War stood imposing there, as we walked slowly my father Erik began to tell his story; when his family learned that he had no talent for magic, he was immediately disinherited and marginalized, had become an outcast in the eyes of his people, like the Vikings of old on Earth, the town to which Erik belonged strongly believed in fate and that it was impossible to escape from it.

They were difficult times for my father Erik, of being a person in the highest part of the social stratum, I immediately go to the lowest, was forced to live as a low-level warrior, they literally turned him into "cannon fodder", he was beginning to sink into despair when he met a warrior from a distant land, said warrior turned out to be an apostle of the God of War, who was on a pilgrimage to spread teachings, the warrior, seeing my father Erik's anguish, asked him why he was like this, my father Erik told him that his fate had been sealed and that he could no longer escape it, to which the apostle responded with a mocking laugh, my father Erik, feeling offended, demanded explanations from the apostle, who told him that in the teachings of the God of War, the destiny of men is as malleable as clay.

Impressed by these statements, the young Erik begged the apostle to make him his disciple, the apostle accepted but with the condition that he accompany him on his journey, with nothing to lose and nothing to hold onto, Erik agreed and that was the beginning of his search for a new place to call home, for that reason Erik abandoned the worship of the traditional deities of his people and embraced the worship of the god of war, as I continued to tell about the details of his trip and all the difficulties and hardships he had to face, I could see my mother hold my father's hand tightly, there was no doubt that the optimistic character my father had forged and his spirit of never giving up and always getting ahead were the qualities that impressed my mother the most.

We arrived at the great temple of the God of War, which was at the end of a huge rectangular-shaped plaza, with a long stone driveway leading to its entrance, its architecture reminded me of the Acropolis of Athens, the path was surrounded by statues representing warriors from different cultures, each statue was a magnificent work of art, all in the same pose as if they kept an eternal watch over the temple, some looked similar to the well-known terracotta warriors of ancient China, but none had the same armor style, a hoplite, a legionnaire, a samurai, what seemed to be knights of ancient Europe, but with different armor styles, the number of statues was incredible, stop counting when you hit 50 and there were still many more, probably more than 100 on both sides of the road.

My mother stood at the entrance while accompanying my father to the altar of the temple, a fully equipped warrior stood in front of the altar, their attire and weapons resembled ancient Moorish warriors, between whispers my father told me he was an apostle, consecrated warriors, blessed with the gift of the word, they traveled the world bearing the teachings of the God of War, they rarely visited the temples, father told me that the teachings of the God of War were not intended for humans to fight each other or against other races, they were to prepare the warriors to fight against the infernal beings that one day would try to destroy the world and the warriors had to have a dignified behavior if they wanted their blessing.

The temple attendants performed a simple ceremony and gave us a blessing, then we met mother again, they both remained unusually quiet until we left the temple grounds and they pulled away from me a bit as we returned, my parents were discussing something with each other, finally, after a few minutes they started walking at my own pace and spoke to me again as if nothing had happened, we return to the camp at sunset, my parents also bought some souvenirs for the grown-ups and after dinner, everyone went to rest, we would go out at first light, the camp would be dismantled before dawn.

We left the city without any inconvenience, we were fired by the same person from the Merchants Guild who accompanied us since our arrival, the return trip was totally uneventful, taking advantage of the fact that we had received much larger wagons, I could sit quietly and read the books my father had bought for me, while slowly driving the wagon my mother told me that upon returning to the village my father Erik would start training me as a warrior, I had not done it before because first I wanted to strengthen my body enough and also wanted the blessing of the God of War, then I started to remember, all the tasks that he had entrusted to me since I was 5 years old followed a fixed routine and were aimed at strengthening my body, I hadn't realized it but I had probably become much stronger than my previous self at the same age.

And so my training began, without neglecting the tasks previously assigned, that got heavier, I also had to continue training archery with my mother Ivina, the fighting style that my father Erik taught me was the same as he used, one that emphasized speed and skill over strength, the reason for this is that given my low compatibility with magic, my father Erik explained to me that he would not be able to fight in equal strength against another warrior who has greater compatibility with magic, so I should resort to a creative fighting style and always seek to surprise the opponent, what personally seemed more efficient to me.

Knights can look very elegant with their two-handed swords and armor, but his fighting style is rigid, they are limited by the style or school of sword they use and not to mention if they must fight in closed spaces or with many obstacles such as a dense forest, where they would hardly find a place to properly brandish their swords, in my old life I had learned Brazilian Jiu-jitsu in the army, which was one of the most efficient ways to subdue an opponent and to participate in clandestine fights I learned the style of mixed martial arts, also during my time as a mercenary I also learned the deadly military-grade, Krav Maga, combining them very aggressively allowed me to avoid death more than once in my previous life.

Fighting with my father I was able to put into practice the movements that I had learned in my previous life, I only had to imagine the movement, and given the constant training in hunting and stalking that I received from my mother Ivina, my body was much more agile, light and flexible than what had previously been, that's how the years went by as I got stronger, finally my parents let me go hunting with them, in the tribe of the Gray Wolves, nobody hunted alone, it would be suicide to face the dangers of the great black forest alone, and I even had to replace my mother on hunting trips when she became pregnant again.

The lessons I learned from the books I had bought in the city of Ciliana were also very helpful, the most important foundation of magic was imagination, the clearer and more detailed the mental image one made, the more effective and powerful would be the effect of magic, applying the modern knowledge of my previous life I was able to improve the magic of corporal strengthening and eliminate some of its negative effects on the organism by optimizing it, decreasing the load on internal organs, muscles, tendons, and bones, he could even apply it as a pseudo armor by strengthening the skin, but my greatest achievement was magic to increase concentration, which allowed me to increase my reflexes and concentration when combined with my optimized body-strengthening magic, I could accomplish feats like intercepting an arrow in flight by throwing a knife at it or achieve almost one hundred percent precision with any type of projectile or thrown weapons thanks to the fact that with increasing concentration my perception of time became sharper, which was like seeing the world in slow motion.

And combining both magics with the fighting style that my father had taught me and the hunter instincts that I had learned from my mother became a trump card in close combat, its only defect was the mental exhaustion that produced, so I couldn't use it for long periods, but its activation was instantaneous, with repetitive training I was able to improve my mental stamina, so my potential will surely grow.