The Devouring Knight

Rud's yellow eyes gleamed. "We'll see it through, my Lord. If this path is what makes us useful to you, then we'll walk it without fear."

Nari grinned, baring his teeth. "I've always said books and spells weren't for me. Give me blood, steel, and a chance to grow stronger. This is better."

Jekka, quieter than the others, only nodded once, her hand tightening on the hilt of her axe. "We won't fail you."

Lumberling allowed himself the faintest smile. Their excitement wasn't misplaced. For warriors like them, this path might be the answer they'd been waiting for.

He turned, leading them deeper into the cell. The stench of blood and sweat thickened as they approached the chained Vikings, two Rúnbringers and one Spirit-Bound, each unconscious and bound in heavy shackles. Their breaths came ragged, but their presence still pulsed like smoldering embers.

Lumberling gestured toward them. "I'm sorry. These are the only three we have. One of you will have to absorb the weaker one."

There was no hesitation. All three stepped forward at once.

"I'll take it," Rud rumbled immediately.

"No, I will," Nari countered with a growl, stepping past him.

Jekka glanced at both of them, then at the chained Spirit-Bound. She shook her head. "It doesn't matter who takes the weaker one. What matters is that we all rise together. But if it eases your pride, let me take it."

The two men froze, surprised.

"You've carried us before," she continued, her voice steady. "I owe you both. Let me repay it this way. I'll take the weaker essence, and you two take the stronger ones. That way, we're balanced."

Silence lingered for a beat. Then Rud exhaled sharply and gave a grunt. Nari's tusks clicked once before he smirked, bowing his head.

"Fine," Rud muttered. "But don't think we'll go easy on you later."

"We'll drag you up if we have to," Nari added with a grin.

Lumberling watched the exchange in silence. The bond between them was plain, loyalty not born of command, but of trust. A rare thing, even among hardened warriors.

He let a small smile tug at his lips. Yes… they were ready.

One by one, he prepared them.

Lumberling began with Jekka. He stood before the chained Spirit-Bound Viking. With a sharp thrust of his spear, the Viking's life ended. At once, dark violet tendrils burst from Lumberling's body, writhing like living shadows, eager and hungry. They surged into the corpse.

He clenched his hand, weaving threads with Essence Weave, and guided the torrent toward Jekka.

The Hobgoblin Warrior stiffened as the power rushed into her. She let out a sharp gasp, her knees almost buckling. "Ughhh!" Her voice trembled, half in awe, half in shock. The air around her shimmered as something unseen wrapped itself around her spirit.

When her breathing steadied, her eyes burned with a new light. "I… I can feel it. Something new is flowing through me, something strong, and alive." She lowered her gaze, pressing a hand to her chest. "I've been blessed."

Lumberling narrowed his eyes, sensing the shift in her aura. A new weight lingered there, different from the raw force of essence alone.

Yes. A Norse God's blessing had taken root.

He flicked open his own status briefly.

(Týr's Blessing Lv.0 (251/1000))

(Odin's Blessing Lv.0 (1/1000))

From the memories he absorbed, Lumberling understood the blessings more clearly.

Týr's Blessing carried the power of Sacrificial Resolve, once in a battle, the user could withstand a fatal blow without falling. It also granted immunity to fear and hesitation, along with heightened strength and speed when fighting for a cause.

Odin's Blessing, on the other hand, sharpened perception, allowing one to see far distances, sense hidden foes, read weaknesses, or even glimpse the flow of battle itself. But such power came at a cost, the user could trade something precious, blood, sight, or memory for immense strength, if only for a brief moment.

He looked back to Jekka. "Hold onto it. That blessing will test you. But if you endure… it will carry you further than you ever dreamed."

Next came Rud.

The Kobold Berserker bared his teeth eagerly as Lumberling dragged the essence from a slain Rúnbringer and sent it into him. The moment it hit, Rud let out a thunderous roar, his muscles bulging, veins rising like cords under his scales. His claws scraped deep furrows into the stone floor as his body trembled from the flood of energy.

"Hah! Yes!" he bellowed, his voice echoing against the walls. "This fire… it feels like rage, but sharper. My blood sings for battle!" He slammed a fist into his chest, his eyes burning with wild devotion.

Lumberling could almost taste the raw vitality in Rud's aura now, untamed, but carrying something greater than simple rage.

Finally, Nari stepped forward, calmer but no less determined. Lumberling repeated the process, dragging out the essence of the second Rúnbringer and threading it into him.

Unlike Rud, Nari did not roar. He staggered back a step, his breathing ragged, his hand gripping his sword hilt until his knuckles went white. Then, slowly, a dark smile spread across his tusked face.

"…I see," he muttered, almost in disbelief. "Shadows of warriors I never knew. Their chants, their fury. It's as if they march beside me, their strength flowing into mine." He looked up, meeting Lumberling's gaze. "This path… it's mine now. I'll walk it till the end."

The three warriors dropped to one knee before him, heads bowed.

"My Lord," Jekka said softly, her voice steady now. "You've given us more than we deserve. We'll not waste it."

"We'll carve a path worthy of your name," Rud growled.

"We'll return stronger," Nari promised, his eyes glinting.

Lumberling rested the butt of his spear on the stone floor, studying them. "Whatever you need, gold, steel, horses, you will have it. Ask Skitz before you leave. Also, don't forget your body cultivation training. And avoid humans where you can, don't flaunt what you carry, the Einherjar's path is not one to be walked in the open."

They bowed deeper, his words etched into their spirits.

Lumberling gave a final nod. "Go. Prove yourselves. When we meet again, you'll be more than warriors."

The three rose, saluted one last time, and departed into the night, the weight of their new blessings burning within them.

Lumberling said nothing, but in his chest lingered the weight of risk. If they succeeded, they would blaze a trail for the rest. If they failed… it would mean his gamble had doomed them.