Artyom adjusts his leg slightly, brushing over the grass and narrowly dodging a stone. He tilts again and another stone passes centimeters from his skin. He smiles, satisfied with his reaction speed. Unfortunately, that smile breaks his concentration and causes a stone to impact his chest with enough force to send him reeling a dozen meters.

“Concentrate, Artyom. You have yet to fully grasp your domain.”

Artyom groans as he slowly wobbles back on his feet. His muscles tremble from the pain of getting struck by a skill enhanced stone that broke the sound barrier, impacting his chest so that it would send exactly enough kinetic energy across his body to damage and hurt every nerve without doing any lasting damage.

Dangerous.

“Ughhhh,” Artyom groans as he lifts his hand and removes the bandanna from his head. The sunlight begins to shine onto his eyes, forcing him to blink rapidly from its radiance. The snow has started melting and the short warmer season is beginning.

“Well, at the very least, you were able to predict a few of my throws.”

Artyom nods towards Zeek, understanding the old man's intentions. The old man can manipulate kinetic energy to a frighteningly impressive amount. Throwing a rock that will spread its energy equally throughout a human body on impact is impressive on its own, but making it so the energy only affects the nerves.

Scary enough that Artyom's domain activates unconsciously.

“Here. You did well.” Zeek says, handing Artyom a small bottle.

Artyom sighs and grabs the bottle with shaking hands. He opens the stopper and drinks a mouthful.

You are now under the effect of [Minor Regeneration]

Increase natural body regeneration by 5000%.

A status screen shows up in his vision for a moment before disappearing. It’s not the first time that he has seen it, nor will it be the last. His focus on understanding and training his domain will be his greatest strength if he can fully control it.

Levels and skills are nothing compared to the power of a domain, as he had learned in his final fight against Machenoss. His domain, which has yet to fully manifest, allows him to obtain information, any kind of information, even from senses he does not realize he may have. For example, his ability allows him to predict a person's actions by somehow perceiving and instinctively translating the electrical and chemical signals within the brain of that person. He can sense the minuscule muscle movements within an arm before the arm shows any outward signs of motion. This way, he knows the other person's actions before that person's brain even sends the signal to the body to move in such away.

Which was how he was able to predict and move out of the way of Zeek’s stones.

“It’s difficult. The moment I become confident is when I lose focus on my domain.”

Zeek nods, fully understanding Artyom's plight. Fear of death or extreme pain are the emotions that Artyom needs to activate his domain.

“I know, but we are making progress. The more you practice and use your domain, the less conscious control it takes to keep you focused on that emotion.”

“But I will still need to have the emotion, correct?”

The old man smoothes out his long goatee, “To an extent, yes. Fear is what you need, but the amount of fear needed to have it active and usable can be reduced.”

Artyom stretches his muscles and walks towards his white Frost-bear cloak and throws it over his bare back. He then wipes dust off of his now red and sore chest.

“What do you mean by amount of fear?”

A cheeky smile forms on the elder’s face. “You could activate your domain on just the fear of disappointing Alissa.”

Artyom frowns as his gaze lands on the small homestead a quarter of a mile up the hill near where he is training. On the side of the homestead are ten water barrels and Alissa who is waving at them with something in her hand.

Artyom sighs, “It looks like she needs us. We can continue my training later.”

Zeek nods and begins walking up the hill with his hands behind his back while Artyom follows behind a couple steps after.

It doesn't take long before they reach the home and find Alissa glaring at both men while waving a scroll.

“You said you fought a couple Dire Snow-Wolves and sold their pelts for the money that you used to buy the barrels.”

The glare becomes more focused now on Zeek.

Zeek chuckles while twirling his goatee on his finger, “Did we now, girly? I can't seem to remember. My old age may be catching up to me.”

Alissa groans and shakes her head. Her shoulders droop as she lets out a sigh, “Of course. I should have seen this coming. A couple Dire Snow-Wolves shouldn’t have been enough for ten water barrels.”

She shakes her head once more and then turns around, “Come on. I have food ready and you both are going to want to read this.”

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Both Artyom and Zeek share a look with each other before following her inside.

The home, though not small, is not large either. The best description would be homely, especially the living room which also functions as a dining room. They all enter this central room and start taking their seats around the dining table.

Already laid out on the table are three empty plates with a steaming stew at the center. On the side of the stew is a sliced up loaf of freshly baked bread.

Of the four chairs, Alissa takes the one closest to Artyom. She places the scroll next to him.

“Mmmm, wolf stew. Brings back memories.” Zeek says as he takes another helping.

Within the time it took Artyom and Alissa to sit, Zeek had silently poured several ladles of stew in his plate and taken a couple slices of bread. The speed still eludes both Artyom and Alissa. Though now, knowing what he knows about Zeek, it can be attributed to Zeeks domain which can also affect sound energy and even possibly light energy as well.

Alissa rolls her eyes and pushes the scroll closer to Artyom, “Here, read this. It’s important.”

Artyom frowns, taking the leathery scroll and opening it. He looks at the words and shakes his head, “I can't understand this,” he says after a moment. His status as a [Hero] allows him to instantly learn spoken language but does not bestow the ability to read or write with them.

“Oh. I’m so sorry. I can read it for you!” she says.

“Artum,” Zeek exclaims while chewing, “ush anyze.” he says.

Artyom and Alissa stare at the elder, a man who many powerful leaders consider to be the most dangerous and powerful named being, a man known as Zeek the Untouchable.

He swallows his food. “Use your skill [Analyse] on the paper. You’re a [Hero], kid.”

Artyom frowns. He had gained the skill [Analyse] recently from his [Hunter] class. It has allowed him to check the levels and class of others as well as explain simple objects to him. It was also the skill that allowed him to figure out that Zeek is a level 431 [Grandmaster Martial Artist]. It’s a level that few beings in the entire world have gotten anywhere near to.

He looks down at the scroll.

“[Analyse]”

Leather Enchanted Scroll

This scroll is created with the leather of a Frost-Bear and is enchanted with [Minor Durability]. The following message has been inscribed:

To Artyom, the new champion of the arena in the town of Snowbird,

Your victory over the former champion, Machenoss, has earned you an invite to Jotunheim to partake in our grand arena of champions to prove your worth to me. Come and fight. Show me your resolve and claim the title of Úlfhéðnar.

The tournament will begin on the last eve of fall, before the great frost takes us once more. Come and fight. I will be awaiting your presence.

Jokull of the Northern Tundra

“Hmmm,” Artyom frowns as he reads the message.

“What does it say?” Zeek asks.

Artyom leans forward and hands the scroll to the elder.

“Oh, it's an invite. These are quite rare.” Zeek exclaims.

“I won't be going. I don't need any honor.”

“This came with it too,” Alissa exclaims while plotting a hefty pouch of coin on the table.

“What is…”

“Jokull is not the type to take no for an answer. If you do not show up, he will besmirch your honor and then you’ll have many people coming to you for a fight.” Zeek explains.

“And if I run south?” Artyum asks, getting a panicked look from Alissa.

Zeek chuckles, “You can't, kid. The safest place for you is up here in the north where most gods aren’t worshipped and the few that are aren't going to try and control you.”

Alissa frowns, her hand moving across the table and landing on Artyom's arm. “Please… don't leave.”

Artyom looks at Alissa and her crestfallen expression. He can clearly sense the love and care she has for him. Unfortunately, he still remembers his late wife and cannot help but consider Alissa a child. She is at least twenty years younger than him and he still has his kids back home. He needs to return…

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Alissa perks up, a smile blooming on her lips. “Really! Yay. I always wanted to visit Jotunheim,” she exclaims before standing up.

“I need to prepare. Oh, what am I going to bring,” she says while running into her room.

Zeek chuckles, “Seems we have an adventure. Good, good. We can train you up on our way north. It’s a great time to hunt.”

__________________________________________________________

The next day, Artyom enters the town of Snowbird with Alissa, who has attached herself to his arm. Artyom looks around, always amazed at the build of the northern people. Even the women are larger, all thanks to their [Minor Strength] bloodline which makes them stronger and more muscular. It is also the main reason that the town doesn’t even have a wall. A [Farmer] of level 40 with the bloodline is a significant threat to most dangerous wildlife that may roam nearby.

Many of the men give him nods as he walks through the town, knowing full well of his recent accomplishment. The younger women are more the opposite, glaring enviously at Alissa attached to his arm.

“[Trader] Seleima,” Alissa waves, letting go of Artyom's arms and running up to the stall of an older woman with a body taller and more muscular than Artyom's own.

“Alissa, you seem rather chipper. Did something good happen?” she asks, giving Artyom a wink and causing Alissa to blush.

“No! I mean, yes, but not that!” she says, covering her face as her cheeks light up.

Seleima laughs hard, causing Alissa to groan.

“It's not that. Artyom has been invited by the [Frost Jarl] to partake in the Jotunheim arena.”

Seleima’s eyes widen, “Oh my. That’s quite amazing.” she says, gazing at Artyom in a new light.

“Yes. That's why we’re here. We need to buy a lot of supplies.”

Seleima gives Alissa a big [Trader] smile, “Well then, I can set you up right now with a great price. I’ve got a lot more supplies prepared than I needed.”

“Really? That doesn't seem like you,” Alissa says while holding on to the significant sum that had been sent with the [Frost Yarl’s] missive.

“A lot of people make the journey to Jotunheim at this time of year, so I was prepared with all the supplies they might have needed for it. Unfortunately, two days ago, a caravan passed through here and they had supplies for any that would make the trip. Now I’m left with a lot of spare supplies and no one to sell them too.”

Alissa folds her arms, frowning. “A caravan? That seems dangerous. They’ll attract a lot of monsters.”

Seleima nods, “Yes, but they have that famous [Mercenary] group, Lone Wolf Crusade led by Shiro Bloodborn, protecting them.”

Alissa nods slowly. “Wow. I wish I knew about it. I would have come to see them myself.”

“Well, they're heading to Jotunheim, so you probably will. But first,” Seleima turns around and begins grabbing supplies and placing it on her counter. Food, blankets, provisions, so much so that Artyom can't help but be glad that his strength is almost three hundred now.