Chapter 10: Chapter 10: The Trials of the Wilds
Athenor moved through the dense forest, his body tensed like a coiled spring, every step measured and deliberate. The lingering scent of blood and the disturbed underbrush told him that creatures lurked nearby. His recent battles had made him stronger, but he was now beginning to realize the true nature of his limits.
His encounter with the ogre had forced him to adapt—brute strength alone wasn't enough. He had learned to use his surroundings, his agility, and his instincts to outmaneuver stronger foes. But the more he fought, the more he noticed something troubling.
His template integration had slowed dramatically.
At first, every Draugr he felled had fueled his growth, but after passing 15% integration, the system now only granted him 0.1% per kill. The ogre had given him a solid boost, but he knew that fighting common monsters wouldn't be enough to progress at a meaningful rate. If he wanted to become stronger, he needed to seek out greater challenges.
The snapping of twigs nearby pulled his attention. Athenor pressed his back against a tree, gripping his weapon tightly. His blunt club, a gift from the system connected to Hercules, had already proven its worth against countless foes. But against the truly powerful creatures in these woods, he had to be smarter.
A low growl rumbled in the distance. It was deep and guttural—not a Draugr. Athenor's fingers curled tighter around his weapon. A Wulver.
These were not mindless husks like the Draugr; they were intelligent, fast, and predatory. He had never fought one before, but he had observed them from afar. If he wasn't careful, he could end up being its prey instead of the other way around.
His breath slowed as he scanned the area. The Wulver stepped into view, sniffing the air, its razor-sharp claws glinting under the pale light that filtered through the trees. Its posture was low and aggressive, eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement.
Athenor didn't wait.
He burst from cover, closing the distance before the Wulver could react. His club came down hard, aiming for its skull, but the beast dodged with inhuman reflexes. Claws slashed through the air where he had stood mere moments ago, and he barely managed to twist his body out of reach.
The Wulver lunged, snapping its jaws toward his throat. Athenor shoved his club horizontally into its mouth, blocking the bite, but the force sent him skidding backward.
Its strength was greater than he anticipated.
He dug his heels into the dirt, using the momentum to roll with the force instead of resisting. As the Wulver snapped its jaws again, he slammed his club upward into its chin, sending its head whipping back. The beast staggered, giving him an opening.
He pivoted and delivered a crushing side blow to its ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing, and the Wulver let out a pained snarl. It was injured but not down.
With a furious growl, the Wulver pounced again, slashing wildly. Athenor ducked under the first swipe, but the second caught his shoulder, drawing blood. He hissed in pain but refused to falter. Pain was a lesson, and he was learning.
He feinted left before suddenly rolling right, throwing the beast off-balance. The moment it stumbled, he swung with all his might—his club slammed into the Wulver's head with a force that sent it crashing into the ground, motionless.
Athenor stood over the fallen beast, panting. His body ached, but a smirk tugged at his lips.
[Template Integration +1%]
[Current Template Integration: 21.9%]
That was more than a Draugr kill but less than the ogre. It confirmed his suspicions—the stronger the foe, the better the rewards.
But he wasn't done yet.
As he moved deeper into the forest, more enemies awaited. A group of Draugr emerged from the underbrush, weapons raised. He dispatched them swiftly, their sluggish movements predictable compared to the Wulver.
[Template Integration +0.1%]
[Current Template Integration: 22.0%]
Then came another Wulver, which put up a better fight, but now that he had experience, he finished it faster than the first.
[Template Integration +1%]
[Current Template Integration: 23.0%]
The real challenge came next.
The ground trembled, and a guttural roar echoed through the trees. A Troll.
Athenor's muscles tensed. He had only read about them in the system's knowledge database. Towering creatures, brutally strong and nearly impervious to conventional attacks. Unlike ogres, which were brute-force brawlers, trolls wielded large weapons and had enough intelligence to use them effectively.
This was it. A real test.
The troll emerged from the trees, dragging a massive stone pillar behind it like a makeshift club. Its beady eyes locked onto Athenor, and it let out a furious bellow before swinging its weapon in a wide arc.
Athenor leaped back, narrowly avoiding the impact as the ground where he stood moments ago exploded into a cloud of shattered dirt and rock. The sheer power behind that swing was terrifying.
He needed a strategy.
Rushing in blindly would be suicide. The troll's size meant it had reach, but that also meant its movements were slower compared to the Wulver's agility. He could use that.
He dashed in and struck the troll's leg before retreating. The attack did minimal damage, but it served its purpose—the troll roared and swung down at him again, this time slower due to its mounting frustration.
Dodge. Attack. Retreat.
He repeated this process, landing small but precise blows while avoiding direct retaliation. The battle was grueling, and even with his endurance, he felt fatigue setting in.
Then he saw his opportunity.
The troll raised its weapon overhead for a massive downward strike. This was his moment. He sprinted forward, moving past the point of impact before the club could land. Now behind the troll, he swung his club at the back of its knee with all his strength.
The impact forced the troll to stumble, and as it dropped to one knee, he delivered a final crushing blow to its skull. The beast groaned before collapsing, lifeless.
[Template Integration +3%]
[Current Template Integration: 26.0%]
Athenor exhaled, wiping sweat from his brow. That was the hardest battle he had fought yet, and the increase in integration was proof of its difficulty.
He looked at his hands, feeling the raw power coursing through his body. He was growing, adapting, evolving.
But he still had a long way to go.
With one final glance at the fallen troll, he turned toward the deeper parts of the forest.
There were still stronger foes to challenge.
And he would be ready.