Incarnation of the Fatih

"Even within the same rank, the differences in power can be absurd. For example, the difference between a 10th rank mage from the Mage Plane and a 10th rank from a minor plane is more than just a single rank. On average, a typical 10th rank mage has the power to suppress a 10th rank from a minor plane by two or three times."

 -An excerpt from the Universal Power System Rating Book

A blonde-haired, blue-eyed northerner was training alongside hundreds of other northerners in the newly established training grounds of Hvítreiðr. The northerner named Loki, a relatively strong marauder who had reached the strength of a first-degree warrior at seventeen, had seen his pride brutally diminished over the past week despite surviving numerous death battles since childhood.

"Swing that axe properly! You're cutting down men, not trees!" The angry voice echoed in his ears, accompanied by the sting of a whip on his bare back.

But Loki had no energy to respond; he forced himself to swing the axe more effectively. This time, he succeeded, avoiding another lash. Training half-naked in the cold, while being constantly scolded, was no easy feat.

Having never bowed to anyone, not even to Olpar's group since his time in Tu'bask, Loki found himself obedient under the demonic trainers of the Whitefang clan. The dozens of marauder corpses hanging from the fortifications, being strengthened daily, served as the best motivation, after all.

After a painful hour and fifteen lashes, the sound of drums announced a break in training. Without hesitation, he collapsed to the ground, too exhausted to even eat a piece of bread.

Around him, other marauders were also gasping for breath as if they were on the verge of collapse. Loki thought that if the training they received did not show visible effects, they would all revolt at the cost of their lives. He then turned his thoughts back to himself. Yes, his pride had taken quite a hit, but his strength was increasing as if he had trained for two months. This provided him with the motivation to regain his pride.

Sometimes, he wondered if such rapid growth would lead to his death. However, he later realized that the training, which seemed exclusive to death squads, was just standard military training for the Whitefang clan. For a marauder like him, who used to wander from place to place without a clan, such training could be considered a blessing.

Now, he was a member of the Whitefang clan. After all, nearly everyone who remained in a settlement conquered through Dromkez had to submit to the conquering clan. It was a tradition that had lasted for centuries, and Loki wasn't one to ignore tradition. On the contrary, he was slowly starting to be glad he was a member of the Whitefang clan.

With difficulty, he lifted his head to look at the sundial in the center of the training ground. There were ten minutes left before the next training session. The rest period was thirty minutes, and he couldn't help but be amazed at how quickly twenty minutes had passed.

Still, it didn't matter; he was someone who valued nothing but his strength, and for him, anywhere he grew stronger was home. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. One of the trainers would eventually beat everyone awake with a stick when the time was up anyway. Just as he was about to focus on recovering his energy, the ground shook, and he frowned.

With the second tremor, he stood up, leaning on his axe, and turned southward with the other confused marauders towards Hvítreiðr. The source of the shaking was there. As he wondered what it was, he suddenly remembered the construction happening there since the beginning of the week. "Such a powerful tremor, it must be Lord Ülgen…" he murmured in awe, deciding to ignore the quakes.

Whatever was happening, it was beyond his level to question or spend time thinking about. He would get stronger first, then think. This was Loki's motto.

...

At the same time, at the epicenter of the tremors stood a muscular figure nearly two meters tall. With bright gray eyes, he was inspecting the runes carved into the foundation of the tower. Most of the runes were in the dragon language, but there were also symbols never before seen in this realm. The faint glow they emitted gave the clan warriors placed around the foundation a chilling sense of danger.

"Good, the runes are doing well in dispersing the force of attacks. Now it's time to test the main function I desire." The young Fatih nodded in satisfaction before signaling to the nearby clan soldiers.

As soon as the soldiers received the signal, they immediately brought a bound Northman, struggling fiercely, and placed him before Ülgen. The hulking Northman was Olpar, the former chieftain of Tu'bask, whom Ülgen had brought to the brink of death.

Even though Olpar could no longer see, having had his eyes gouged out, he could still sense the approach of the monster he loathed with all his being. He couldn't forget the last words he heard, and thus, he struggled even more violently in both hatred and fear. Unfortunately, his aura had been mystically sealed by Ülgen, and his sheer physical strength was not enough to free him from the warriors holding him, who had received the second-degree blood blessing.

"You can leave him." The soldiers dropped him right in the center of the rune.

Olpar hit the ground, turning his head in hatred toward the source of the voice and growled. The only response he received was a faint chuckle. "By the end of today, all the civilians of my clan will have been moved to Hvítreiðr. The presence of the architects among them is crucial for the continued construction of the tower."

"Why are you telling me this?!" Ülgen's casual explanation only served to confuse and further enrage the former master of Tu'bask.

However, Ülgen continued speaking as if unbothered. "This tower is no ordinary tower. Therefore, I need to complete the most critical part of it before I leave. And this is where you come in, little wolf." He slowly placed his hand on Olpar's head. "Since I must leave soon, I need to ensure that Hvítreiðr won't be easily destroyed." As he finished speaking, an intense flow of aura poured from his hand into Olpar's head and then into his body.

"!!" Olpar felt the overwhelming aura suppressing his entire body, and he struggled desperately.

Unfortunately, his struggle didn't last long, as the aura that suppressed his body began to flow from him into the rune, activating it. A bright light enveloped Olpar's body, extinguishing all his resistance. The former chieftain of Tu'bask gradually felt his will become alien to his body and his senses no longer his own.

After a while, he felt as if he were trapped in a dark, isolated corner. But what was trapped was not his body—it was his soul! Despair, terror, and hopelessness engulfed his spirit, leaving him with nothing but the savage screams for Ülgen to end his life.

Olpar's pleas seemed to have been answered momentarily, as Ülgen appeared as a shimmering light in the dark corner. In his spiritual form, Olpar was a werewolf with eyes, and thus he could see Ülgen's white dragon spirit, shrouded in a grey mist. His voice fell silent in awe.

"Well, it seems I've managed Soul Suppression quite well for a first attempt." The dragon's smile revealed sharp teeth as he nodded in approval and then looked at Olpar. "In the fifteen years I spent in the far north, I never encountered one of your kind, so it's quite fortunate that you appeared right here. While you beg for death, you can watch how your body transforms into an incarnation."

With those words, the dark corner lit up, and Olpar's bodily senses were projected onto a screen-like surface. The former chieftain of Tu'bask, speechless, stared at the display. One of the senses transmitted was sight, but it was vastly different from normal vision. He saw everything in various colors, and it soon dawned on him that what he was seeing was aura.

Nodding at Olpar's realization, Ülgen said, "Yes, one of the primary functions of the Conquest Tower's foundation rune is to grant the incarnation aura vision. One way to utilize aura vision more effectively is for the incarnation to lose its physical eyes." He continued, "You should be proud, for you are the first person in Azderos to be transformed into an Incarnation of a Fatih!"

Then abstract chains enveloped Olpar's werewolf body, leaving him no choice but to continue staring at the screen. At the same time, a seed of light emerged from Ülgen and began to merge with the dark corner. The emergence of the light orb caused the young Fatih's soul to shrink and fade slightly. Nevertheless, the confident light in his eyes did not diminish.

After a short while, when he was sure that the light seed had completely merged with the corner, he returned to his body. To onlookers, it seemed as if Olpar, with his eyes closed and his hand embracing the light, was suppressing something. Perhaps races with spiritual sight or master wizards could discern what was actually happening. Of course, Ülgen was not foolish enough to do this in front of those who could notice.

In the end, he opened his eyes and withdrew his hand from Olpar's body. After a few minutes, the light surrounding Olpar's body faded away, leaving behind a burly werewolf with empty eye sockets. Under the astonished gaze of the surrounding warriors, the werewolf's body tensed, breaking the threads that enveloped him, and slowly rose to its feet.

Immediately afterward, with a claw strike three times faster than in the previous duel, he attacked Ülgen. The warriors attempted to swing their swords toward the werewolf, although their reflexes were not fast enough.

"Fall back," Ülgen's words reached the ears of the warriors just as the werewolf's claw had already been evaded.

As the warriors withdrew, the werewolf and Ülgen exchanged a few more blows. Eventually, the werewolf's body fell silent, and Ülgen ceased fighting. "Well, nearly as strong as a 6th-degree novice warrior. It will be even stronger when the tower is completed. It was worth separating a piece of my soul," the young Fatih silently analyzed the body he had turned into an incarnation.

Then he turned to the soldiers. "I've turned him into the City Guard of Hvítreiðr. Anyone who attempts to harm him in any way will be executed, whether they are soldiers or civilians. Inform Sven and the others; they will take care of the rest."

The soldiers were momentarily stunned upon hearing that the raider who had once forced their lord into a deadly battle was now the city guard. Of course, they didn't fully understand what being a city guard entailed, but as they were under orders, they suppressed their astonishment and dispersed into the city.

Knowing that his task regarding the tower was finished for the day, Ülgen left Olpar's body there and made his way to the lord's hall. Separating a piece of his soul was not only exhausting and laborious but also affected his true power. He needed to ensure he was healed before the soldiers of the Vinumregnum Duchy arrived.