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The gods died a millennia ago. Cultivators of Ulreon seek power, and dominion over what remains after the Divine Genocide, using the Fate System crafted by powerful entities to realize their ambitions. Amongst them, Erik Basara, son of a dreaded Norse cultivator family, travels back in time to claim the honor and glory he had been denied. Born again in a violent clan, thirsting for greater heights, Erik will use his knowledge of the future and the Fate System to thread a new path with his fists assisted by his shamanic powers. However, he is not the only regressor. *** Original Book Cover by loonu1991 Please Read: 1° The story starts grim dark, for about three chapters, then opens up to other tones. For instance, there'll be friendship, a bit of romance, kingdom building, beast taming starting at chapter 31 (or sooner depending on your pov), and other additions that might not be present till later in the story but are already planned. 2° EDITED: There'll be 1 chap per day for five days a week (no chaps on the weekend), each between 1500 words and +2000 words. More chaps for mass release or other events. As of chapter 27, we're already at 50K words which are around 200 pages of content. 3° This is a cultivation story with litrpg/system elements. It'll be a mix of both genres. 4° The overall pace will be fast, by my standards, though not rushed. The first 3 chaps take their time to introduce the world and the MC, but the pace picks up in chapter 4. 5° The System and Cultivation aspect is introduced in chapter 3 6° I hope you'll like this story I poured time and effort into. Though it's fine if you don't, we all have different tastes after all. 7° To those that have read my other works, they are on hiatus until I finish this book, which should take around 500 chaps perhaps more if additional content is added. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. 8° If you've read thus far, you are a brave soul, and have my congratulations.
"Is that truly what you wish for?" Asked a raven perched on a man's broad shoulder.
The mountain pass was filled to the brim with soldiers. Grotesque chimeras, half-golem half-beast, climbed the fortress's fourth defensive wall, more awaited in the ruins of the fifth and sixth next to men wearing bear skins.
"You once told me: 'every destination has a journey.'" His cold blue eyes scoured the horizon from the mountain, his braided red beard fluttered in the bone-chilling wind along his shoulder-length crimson hair. "But every journey always starts with a first step. So… for my selfish desire of glory, honor, power."
The ghost who has followed him since childhood appeared by his side.
"For those that came before and will come after."
On the walls, defenders fought to the last man, trying their best to keep their home safe, fighting against a never-ending tide of enemies.
He could sense their despair.
Their struggle.
Their will to live.
"For those striving."
Enslaved jotunns, blue giants as tall as the fortress's walls, marched against their will, chains around their neck and ankles shining red with runes enforcing commands given by humans a tenth of their size.
BOOM!
"For those, I've lost."
Fireballs blanketed the sky red, raining death and pain upon the defenders. A protective magical layer formed around the entire fortress, nullifying half the blazing projectiles until it shattered, condemning those below too weak to survive the blast.
"I will restore the shattered Balance." He looked to his left into his companion's dark eyes, seeing sympathy, cunning, and friendship.
The raven peered into the distance, thoughtful. Finally, it nodded. "I acknowledge your words, kid. Tread carefully, you've certainly grown, but you still have many truths to uncover."
"Then I will rely on you to guide me if I err, master."
The raven flew off into the distance, its size increased, rivaling that of ancient dragons, casting a foreboding shadow on the assailants.
Sensing the pain and unwillingness of those soon to join the Void, the red-haired man clenched his fists.
A bestial roar surged out from his throat, resounding, echoing throughout the entire mountain pass, piercing the chaotic sounds and veil of war. As if stunned by his mighty voice, the fight came to a temporary standstill.
"Hear me, Bear Clan!" Energy flowing through his vocal cords augmented his voice. "I am Erik Stormfist, the Golden Basilisk Slayer, the Bane of the Frozen Sea, the son of Skadi Bloodaxe!"
Below, defenders and assailants alike turned their eyes southward to the mountain. Immediately, those in command hastened the enemy army to form up ranks against the new threat.
"Carve this into your goldfish memories, you ergi bastards! For soon, the skalds will write my name in tales, eclipsing those of yore! For soon, my name will echo in mead halls far beyond the seas into Damnation itself! For soon, all will utter my name with awe or cower at the mere mention of it!"
The traitors laughed at what they thought were empty boasts, their numbers so overwhelming he could hear them from up there.
Sparks of blue electricity came to life around him, circling about his bare fists, lifting his red hair. Thunder growled, shaking heaven and earth.
"But none of you shall live to see that day."
Their laughs came to a sudden stop.
