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Path of the Fist

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.

YoanRoturier · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
38 Chs

Ch.19

"I can't hear much noises out there," Sieg said. "The storm has passed so I'll take my leave soon."

"You can stay for the night, we won't mind your company," Erik offered out of courtesy.

They've been talking for hours, he understood more the kind of person the hunter was.

Respectful, dutiful, vengeful. That much he could relate to.

His two totems have calmed down, trusting the stranger a bit more, not enough to fall asleep.

Thanks to Sieg, Erik learned more about the Crimson Forest and the savage beasts inhabiting it; it could be considered payment enough for his hospitality, information counted as much as material rewards.

"I'm good. The blizzard has benefited those bastards, erasing whatever tracks they've left behind," the hunter explained. "If I want to catch up, I've gotta travel through the night. Ah, before I forget, here's your due." Sieg bottled up the content of his gourd and tossed it.

Erik caught it. The gourd's exterior was wrapped in brown fur to keep the heat inside, judging by its size, it could store one liter or more of water, judging by its smell, the hunter previously had filled it with alcohol.

'Too bad he didn't leave a sip or two. I've brought a pot of homemade alcohol for the journey but it won't be ready before another week.'

As an amateur of strong beverages himself, Erik recognized the scent of Mouffette, an alcohol made by macerating mouf berries.

Cheap and easily brewed on your own, the foul smell of the mouf berries would be erased after a month of maceration making the drink passable.

'He seemed to have added snowberries for more flavor. Interesting, didn't know you could mix both. Gotta try the recipe some day.'

"Fill it with snow, put it in the fire, wait ten minutes at boiling point to kill the bacterias and you have drinkable water," Sieg explained, "it's made of steel and the fur is fire resistant so it won't be damaged. Well, I know your blessed body must resist common disease but hey, it's much better than eating snowballs, don't you think? Haha."

"You already gave me useful information, this isn't a fair exchange. I cannot accept this."

"Hum, consider it payment for adding three new rooms to my cave then," the hunter grinned knowingly. "Been a while since I've set foot in there, imagine my surprise when I entered it a day ago to rest and found a bathtub."

The cave hadn't been Ogram's but Sieg's! That made more sense, Ogram wasn't a crafty fellow.

"Damnation, I thought my older brother occupied it before heading home. If I knew it belonged to someone else I wouldn't have intruded. Sorry." Erik apologized.

"It's fine kid, instead, I should pay you for it. Had my doubts it at first, but after seeing this underground shelter and talking to you, I became certain it was your handy work. Since it's in good hands I don't mind you borrow it for a while, it'll be your reward for improving the shelter."

"Ehm, thanks?" He hadn't expected this.

"How did you do it, anyway? I can hardly imagine a kid digging the stone."

"I'm no normal kid, remember? I used a Basara secret digging art," Erik joked.

"Haha, fine, secret arts must be kept secrets I suppose. I'm too old to pry in someone else's matters anyway," Sieg said. "By the way, I wouldn't mind if you do the same in my other shelters. I've got a few ones like the cave lying around that I share with other hunter from neighboring villages. We mostly use them when hunting for long periods of time. If you work on them, my pals and I will make it worth your while."

'Hum, could be interesting. I could ask for supplies that can't be found in the wild in exchange for my services.' Erik thought.

There was profit to be made! Bbuilding relationships with hunters of the Crimson Forest could be also useful later.

"Sure, I'm here for another year at the very least," Erik said.

"Great! Here's a map of the woods and hunting shelters." Six crosses marked the shelters spread around the place. "Take it, I don't need this, the woods are my second home, I could walk blind folded I'd find my way back."

"What do you want to add? Bathrooms? Training rooms? Bedrooms?" Erik studied the map, seeing how wide the region was, it ought to take time.

"I'll let you decide, I'm not much of an architect. Crafting basic necessities is all I'm capable of. There are already everything we need, just make it more cozy like you did in the cave."

"Deal, but I can't guarantee customer satisfaction."

"Haha, I'm sure you'll do a great job, kid. Work on them whenever you feel like it Anyway, I better get going. I'll track you wherever you are in the woods after I've killed the wolf pack, then we'll discuss the details of our deal."

That guy seemed confident about killing a wolf pack, proof of his experience and strength.

"Remember, kid, watch out for wolf tracks and droppings composed of hair and bone fragments. If you hear howls, smear yourself with mouf berries, run in the opposite direction until you're exhausted, then run some more."

"Got it." He wasn't suicidal enough to deal with a wolf pack on his own. The wolves he had killed until now were either starving or loners.

"Good meeting you."

"Same. Good hunting to you."

The hunter nodded, Sieg turned to the totem beasts, "Keep him safe, he's a good kid," and left.

Rex and Old Bone's gazes followed the hunter out, keeping an eye on the entrance until they couldn't feel his presence any longer.

"Is that human a friend now?" Rex asked.

"A single meeting is not enough to call us friends, I'd say he's a good acquaintance and a potential friend," Erik said.

Caw.

"Old Bone says he could have killed us."

"Sieg is stronger than the current us, so I suppose it's normal. He reached rank 4, quite impressive for a hunter."

When he had activated [Shaman Senses], Sieg's golden threads numbered more than ten, so over a thousand wyrd, no one under the Foundation Realm should have this much.

"But I think we'll surpass him in five years, no, four years will be enough," Erik changed his sitting position, cross-legged, spine straight, he started visualizing a thunderstorm. "I'll take the first guard shift, get some sleep guys."

"Alright. Goodnight, friend."

Caw.

***

Crack!

A tree fell under Erik's claw strikes.

"Faster than before, satisfying but not enough." It was never enough so long as the suffering from his past life remained.

He still had a long way to go before bringing down a steel tree, a species with particularly thick bark and tough wood steel axes couldn't pierce.

However, a rank up might speed up the process.

Erik has made no progress with the animated core though he had taken a day off traveling, camping by the riverside one more day in case the wolf pack hadn't left the surroundings yet; even if they did, it put more distance between him and them.

'No matter how long I wrack my brain I can't figure it out. I think it's time to ask for that hint Old Bone promised me.'

After hand clawing the fallen tree into logs, Erik left them to dry, called for Rex who was pissing on a bush to translate, and crawled back into the underground room where the lazy bird was sleeping.

Truth be told, Old Bone never pulled her weight.

Apart from that one time she gave a piece of advice, there were no instances where the bird helped. The raven would just stare at him, eat his food, sleep in his shelter, and caw at his dog and him.

Nevertheless, he considered her a companion.

"I need the hint you promised me, Old Bone," he said. "I'm making no progress. If this continues I'll go mad."

The bird lazily opened her eyes and stretched.

"You think too much," Rex translated, paused, then added. "Is thinking bad for your health?"

"Depends on how, why, what you're thinking about, Rex. It could be bad for your health in certain cases."

Some people who had psychological disorders Erik used to know thought in uncommon ways and too much. The anxiety produced extreme stress that hastened their aging as they went crazy, ultimately leading to suicide.

"Anyway, that's not the point. I got it if my thinking is wrong. But I don't get what you say by I 'think too much.'"

"She says you're going at it the wrong way. You must feel, not think," Rex said.

That sounded just like those bullshit stories about transcendents written by skalds he had read in the past!

"What's with the fairy tale advice? Feel not think? Quit the bullshit Old Bone."

The raven's anger erupted.

"And that's why you're not succeeding, you i—" Rex paused his translation, unwilling to say the i-word, then resumed once he deemed the content was less offensive. "You must feel the storm circling in your body, in your bones, your muscles, your heart, even in that tiny brain of yours."

The dog stopped translating again as a sudden storm of caws left Old Bone's beak.

Caw! Caw! Caw!

"What is she saying?" Erik asked although he could pretty much guess the content looking at her angry bird face.

"A lot of incomp-words and fu-words."

Erik sighed, thinking that was a waste of time, and exited the room followed by bird curses.