*You have killed Hagen Von Tronje, Sigurd’s Bane* +200xp

*Bonus XP given for completing Sigurd’s Trial -2 times XP multiplier

*Bonus XP given for Unarmed Combat modifier -1.5 times XP multiplier

*Congratulations! You have completed Sigurd’s Trial

*The following have been awarded

* Received Legendary Legacy ‘Sigurd the Dragonslayer’

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Sigurd the Dragonslayer -Legendary-

Sigurd killed a dragon and bathed in his blood making him invulnerable, except for the part of his back where the heart is, a leaf fell on his back just before he bathed in Fafnir’s blood, and was later killed by Hagen von Tronje, who ambushed him while Sigurd was drinking water from a spring and stabbed him in the place were he was vulnerable.

Balmung

Magical sword that could pierce the dragon’s scales. Soulbound. Levels up with Grade evolutions.

Tarnkappe

The cloak of invisibility, granted Sigurd the strength of twelve men.

Grants the user +12 in strength. Doubles with Grade evolutions.

Invisibility skill only works for targets below user level, and 5 levels above, gradually consuming stamina.

Soulbound.

Fafnir’s blood

One-time use flask, that grants +2000 endurance. Must be at least E-grade to consume. Soulbound.

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— 10 minutes left before the Trial Dungeon closes. —

— Do you wish to exit Sigurd’s Trial? Y/N_ —

“Holy beans Batman! That’s what I’m talking about!” I cried out loud, my new items being produced out of thin air by the system. I got a sword of legend, a magical cape, and a flask of dragon blood. Even if I could not use it yet I was pretty happy about it, the stats it gave were crazy. One more reason to try and grind my way up to E-grade, because the fact that its use was tied to it, plus the mention of Grade evolutions in the description of the items, was confirmation enough that I could also achieve E-grade, just like Bear.

Out of all my shiny new items, I was happier with my cloak, it was comfy and warm, plus it had straps in its lining so I could strap the sword and the flask to it, not to mention it gave me 12 points in strength, and the ability to go invisible.

Scratch that, in my hands, there was a FUCKING MAGICAL SWORD OF LEGENDS! sorry about caps, but I was so happy about it, that I could not keep myself calm. The magic sword Balmung glimmered with a faint blue hue, its edges sharp and etched with ancient runes. The hilt was crafted with intricate designs, embedded with valuable gemstones that sparkled in the light. In a single word, beautiful. A legend brought to life.

I could not get over it, like a child with a new toy, which, let’s be honest, I was at that point, I raised Balmung with my hands and yelled “Hoooooo” like in the old feline cartoon. With a stupid silly smile on my face, after strapping Balmung to its rightful place inside my brand-new cloak, I answered the system message, “Yes”.

I arrived at the little mound in the spring, the flowerbed of lilies a stark contrast to the cold, hard stone inside the trial’s chambers. The rusty sword was still there, resting atop the mound, but the Runic letters were no longer lit up, spent.

Bear was waiting exactly where he had been before I left, the moon was still waxing. Probably only just a bit over an hour had passed.

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Saturday night, Papa Olaf’s Farm

“It was difficult to remove the civilians from the site Sir, especially the parent and brother of the victim, we had to use force and they are now in custody in one of our trucks, other than that, a CH-47 Chinook is on its way to remove the device from premises, We have established a perimeter, that encompasses a couple of acres around the landing site and its trail. We have restored power to the farm as it’s convenient in order to keep the locals appeased, other than that we are waiting for your orders Agent Steele” Said the designated special agent in charge from the FBI.

“What was your name again?” replied Agent Steele.

“Jacobs, sir.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Well, Jacobs, you and your people are relieved from the scene, we are taking over now,” said Agent Steele. “Please inform every and all Law Enforcement agents in the operation and in the county that they need to report to our Mobile HQ, where they will sign NDAs, yourself included, we will also give them a presentation on the protocols they will need to follow from today onwards for all inquiries regarding this terrorist attack,” he said while walking towards the truck were the Hagens were being held.

“And Jacobs.”

“Yes Agent?” Jacobs replied.

“Good job.”

“Thanks, sir,” Jacobs answered.

Agent Roger Steele was an old-fashioned guy, he still believed in positive reinforcement, and that he was fighting the good fight. He also believed in being kind, polite, and respectful to anyone, until anyone proved unworthy of said respect and kindness. He was proud of always assuming the best intentions from people unless otherwise proven.

That’s why when he saw an old man, a pretty brunette, a gorgeous red-head and a handsome young man trying to stop a blonde Amazon-looking woman into tearing a new one to the officers warding the truck where the Hagens were being held, he just smirked. He understood that ‘good people’ were the ones who fought for their loved ones, no matter the odds, who, or what, he also understood these people were in shock, they had just lost family.

He knew everything there was to know about the family living at Olaf’s farm. The dossier he had received en route was pretty comprehensive, but that was not why he knew they loved to play Super Smash Bros, had a weekly tabletop game night, and a separate D&D night, with costumes and all.

He knew they had decided not to go to college and remain at the farm, with only the brunette taking psychology remotely via the Internet. He also knew that the crying ginger had just become the girlfriend of the youngest Hagen boy.

And knew how fiercely protective of the boys, especially the deceased one, the six-foot-tall, soon to be olympian decathlete was, -yes, he even had insider information on who was selected to represent Team USA-, he had a cheat. But that cheat was a state secret, so no telling.

He passed next to the towering figures of the Hagen extended family, Agent Steele being 5’6” felt somewhat anxious around them. Going straight for the holding truck, he could hear Ms. Sa’s yells, something about giving their family back to her.

He sat in front of the Hagens and started talking.

“There are no pleasantries that I could say, that apply to your current situation I’m afraid. So I will dispense of them for now. First, in the name of the United States of America, its Government, and the Department of Homeland Security that I represent, I offer to you my most sincere apologies for the treatment you have undue-fully received.” He said, in a solemn tone that gave more weight to his words.

“Second, I offer my condolences for your loss, I also know what it feels like to lose someone so close and dear.” He continued in a more affectionate, understanding tone.

“And lastly I want to sit down with you and your extended family, at your house if possible, and if you wish to allow me into it, if not we can decide on a neutral setting to your liking, to discuss tonight’s events, and to explain to you all what will happen and how we will present this to the American people,” He said while uncuffing the Hagens.

He came out of the van first, and escorted the Hagens back to their family, while telling all the officers, very gently, to fuck off, not in those words but the sentiment was palpable. Helped them reclaim their own house from the authorities, had them return every piece of equipment they had “bagged and tagged” previously, forbid anyone to access the farm’s living compound, and made sure that law enforcement would not allow a single media representative in their premises, which somehow was easier than expected, since every single resident of the farm was already doing just that, allowing the core Hagen family to do what they were supposed to be doing.

They were not supposed to be held in a van, they were not supposed to be led out of their home ‘until further notice’, and they were not supposed to be assailed by ‘reporters’ fishing for tears and human drama.

He left them alone, to mourn, grieve and be there for each other.

He then went to the site, to assess the situation, it had been reported as a terrorist attack to Congress and the White House, with a civilian casualty, the DHS wanted to present it as a hunting accident and involved the fewest amount of resources and agencies possible, but the ‘event’ was witnessed by hundreds, the lights, the sound, and the notoriety of the farm for the locals made it impossible. By the time he had arrived, four separate law enforcement agencies had arrived, first responders, and even the army had sent some jets and helicopters, as they saw a bogey in their radars. Which meant that NORAD was involved too.

He still thought that he was going to be able to make heads for tails of the incident and come up with a reasonable resolution until he arrived at the site. He saw the three bodies, only one was human, but the savagery that was inflicted on the oldest Hagen boy was, nervewracking. When he saw the other two bodies, which were covered not by body bags or mats, but by full-on tents; then added the actual ‘device’... why in hell had nobody mentioned a craft? Finally, the Chinook made sense in his head.

He took out his satellite phone and dialed a number he never wanted to dial, as he has had his run-ins with this person, and their relationship is somewhat strained. But duty is duty, so he called the secretary of homeland security.

He heard as the phone was picked up at the other side, “Roger what in tarnation are you doing calling this late on a Saturday? We better be under attack or else you...” she said. “Ma’am secretary, I’m calling from the site, at Papa Olaf’s farm landing site to be more specific, and using my best judgment, I’m calling you personally to put you up to speed since the entire country will be hearing about this in one way or another, but what you will have to tell the President, ma’am I would not wish on anyone; in a single sentence my report would be,” remembering his Ranger days Agent Steele said out loud “Situation Normal: All Fucked Up.” The Secretary of Homeland Security stood up and picked up her glasses, checking her e-mails and messages, and answered back “Take me through it Roger, and thanks, I’ll join you on-site, from where we will depart together to the White House.”

She was good, Roger thought, annoyingly so. The only way to gather first-hand data was to be onsite, which would also double as an excuse not to be summoned to the White House immediately, and taking him over to ‘their’ meeting, would end up putting all the blame on himself in the worst case scenario, or a lot of new responsibilities in the, let’s call it, less bad case scenario.

“Yes madam Secreteray.” He finally answered and finished the call.

“Agent Steele!” He heard someone calling his name. He noticed a man, dressed up in plastic bags, well, he was dressed as a fancy forensics department person, but you know, they look like plastic bags don’t they?, running back at him.

“Agent Steele,” said the guy, “We were preparing the remains to be sent for autopsy and clinical analysis, so we moved it into the forensics car when… “Wait kid, breathe, breathe,” Agent Steele told the forensic examiner making emphasis on his breathing movements.

“But Sir, the body Sir, it...”

“Yes, yes, I know, it is extremely disconcerting and nervewracking, even for a professional such as yourself, right?” Agent Steele answered, having seen this kind of reaction to gruesome murders in the past, he knew what the young forensic examiner was going through.

“No Sir, that’s not it, Sir” he looked at Roger, a little afraid of the news he had to deliver.

“We lost the body, Sir,” he said, expecting a scolding so he added before the Agent from Homeland Security could say anything else “We put it in the bag, and into the car, for preservation, waiting for the helicopters, we left two agents warding it, but now that we wanted to move the body to the helicopter, there are only his clothes inside the bag sir, and the most unbelievable part is this..” he said as he produced the bag in which William Hagen’s remains had been stored.

The bag had been pulled inside out, so Roger Steele was now seeing at the insides that were once in contact with the deceased.

The bag showed luminescent lines, like a portrait. A portrait of William Hagen, as he had been when alive, and a single symbol in the chest area.

It was going to be a hell of a Sunday, that’s for sure.