The battlefield lay still.

Dust drifted like fog over the shattered stone, curling through the air in thick, choking waves. The mountain itself seemed to hold its breath in the aftermath of the battle, the echoes of the colossus's fall still rumbling in the deep places of the earth.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

They all stood frozen, staring at the massive corpse sprawled across the battlefield, a fallen behemoth of obsidian flesh and shattered power. Rugiel took a sharp breath, her grip tightening around her hammer. Then, she called out.

"Stronric?"

No answer. The tension sharpened.

Giles wiped a layer of dust from his face, scanning the battlefield with sharp, darting eyes. "Merde… I do not see 'im."

Dane exhaled slowly, his gaze dark. "He was on the damned thing when it fell."

"Ah, if 'e was caught under eet…" Armand murmured.

"Then we shall dig him out," she snapped, already moving forward. "By Morgal's beard, please be well."

But before she could take another step, a low, ragged cough broke through the dust. The group snapped toward the sound. A shadow moved in the haze, staggering forward, battered, bloodied but standing.

Stronric Wraith-Thane.

He looked like hell. Beard caked with grime, bruises blooming like fresh ink beneath his skin. His left arm hung stiff at his side and his breath came in short, ragged bursts. But his eyes, his eyes, still burned with stubborn fire.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Kara let out a sharp breath. "You have got to be shitting me."

"Zat actually worked?" Armand muttered, eyes wide with disbelief.

Dane huffed out something between a laugh and a scoff. "Mad bastard."

Giles ran a hand through his dust-covered hair, shaking his head. "Stronric, mon ami… zat was insane. You fought a giant. Alone. On purpose."

Stronric spat blood onto the ground. "Aye. Worked, didn't it?"

"Worked?! Worked?!" Kara threw up her hands. "You jumped onto a giant, rode it like a damn mountain goat, ripped its eye out, made it trip over a rock, and broke its bloody neck! Who in the hell thinks like that?! You are going to be a hard one to take down."

Stronric wiped his mouth, exhaling. "Aye, well. I didnae see you runnin' up to take a turn, lass."

Kara opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, glowering.

Rugiel crossed her arms, shaking her head, but her lips twitched in something dangerously close to a smirk. "You are either the luckiest dwarf to walk this earth… or the most hopelessly foolish."

Stronric snorted. "Why not both?"

"Because one of them is bound to run out first," Rugiel muttered.

Serene, leaning against Dane and still catching her breath, let out a breathless laugh. "I swear, if I ever write a book about this, no one will believe me."

Armand nodded. "Zey will think it is legend."

"Aye, and ye can all tell the tale o' how I punched a giant in the bloody face," Stronric muttered, rolling his shoulder with a wince.

Giles let out a long breath, rubbing his temples. "I need a drink."

"So do I." Muttered Stronric.

Laughter broke through the tension, rough, relieved, alive.

He rolled his shoulders, wincing at the fresh bruises, and turned back toward the fallen giant. Its massive corpse sprawled across the battlefield, an unmoving mountain of obsidian flesh and ruined muscle. Stronric's eyes tracked its length as if he was searching for something.

His axe's blade was still buried deep in the beast's massive palm, wedged between gnarled fingers. Stronric strode toward it without hesitation, boots crunching over broken stone.

With a grunt, he grabbed the haft and ripped it free. The steel scraped against petrified flesh before tearing loose with a sickening, wet pop.

Stronric exhaled sharply, resting the axe on his shoulder. "Right. Time to—"

Then he saw it.

A faint glow.

A pulse of light flickering beneath the giant's ruined throat, deep within the thick, cracked skin.

Stronric frowned, stepping closer.

Something about it felt unnatural. The glow wasn't like magic, wasn't like anything he'd seen before. It pulsed slow and steady, like a heartbeat, as if something inside the giant was still alive.

"Stronric?" Rugiel's voice carried behind him, steady but firm. "What exactly do you think you are doing?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he ran a hand over the hardened skin of the throat, feeling the ridges and cracks beneath his fingers. This was where he'd struck before. Back when the giant was still alive, he had tried cutting here. His axe had barely left a scratch, as if the flesh itself had been resisting the blow, guarding whatever lay beneath.

But now?

Now the beast was dead and the skin, it was soft. Stronric narrowed his eyes. His grip tightened around his axe. With a sharp inhale, he raised the weapon and swung. The blade struck true. The once-impenetrable flesh split beneath the steel, tearing apart like rotted leather. Blackened blood oozed from the wound, thick and congealed, and something hard, something solid gleamed within the darkness.

Stronric hesitated.

What in the ancestors' names…?

He reached inside. His fingers wrapped around something smooth, cold, and unyielding, like stone. He gave a sharp tug, and with a sickening schluck, he ripped it free.

A heart or at least… what used to be one. It was massive, the size of a dwarf's chest, but petrified, a hulking mass of hardened, blackened stone, its surface webbed with veins of faint, glowing blue. It pulsed gently in his hands, an ancient echo of the life it once held.

"The hell is this…?" he muttered.

The others had drawn closer now, watching with expressions of unease.

"A heart," Dane murmured.

Stronric frowned. "Aye… but not the giant's."

That much he knew for certain and yet, here he stood, holding something far older than this dead beast. Something it had consumed.

His grip tightened on the stone. "This wasn't his," he muttered. "He stole it. Ate it."

"Ate it? How do you know that?" Giles' brow furrowed. "And why?"

Stronric turned the heart over in his hands, staring at the intricate webbing of glowing veins.

"I don't know," he said simply. "Why else would he have a heart in his throat?"

The realization settled like stone in his gut. That's why the giant had been so strong. It had torn this heart from something greater, something that had no place in its cursed hands, and devoured it. Whatever strength it had gained from the act had died with it.

And now, the heart remained.

No longer pulsing with life, but not dead, either.

Stronric clenched his jaw. He had no idea what it was, no idea what it could do, but he knew one thing, this was no ordinary relic.

Stronric turned, his grip still tight on the strange, pulsing heart, but his eyes landed on the others. They had gathered just beyond the wreckage of the fallen giant, but his sharp gaze honed in on Serene. Dane knelt beside her, his brow furrowed as he gently cradled her leg.

"Ancestors," Stronric muttered, his stomach dropping at the sight.

Serene's face was pale, her jaw clenched tight against the pain. Her left foot twisted at an angle no limb should ever bend, and the fabric around it was soaked through with blood.

"Easy, lass," Dane murmured, his voice low and soothing as he wiped sweat from her brow. "We'll fix it."

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Rugiel knelt beside them, her expression calm but her eyes filled with concern. "It's a clean break," she murmured softly. "But it needs to be set before she moves another step." She turned then to Stronric and quickly added, "The aftermath of the boulders thanks to the giant."."

"Just… do it," Serene gritted out, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. "I can't heal it like this. Bone's out of alignment."

Stronric's brow furrowed. "Ye can heal yerself?"

Serene gave a tight nod, her lips pale. "Yes but I need the bone set first." She forced a wry grin despite the pain. "Unless you think I'll look good with a crooked leg, Thane."

Stronric snorted. "Aye, lass. I suppose not, humans already dance funny."

She winced but managed a breathless chuckle. "Just make sure ye set it straight. Human bones… not built quite the same as dwarven ones, ye know."

Stronric gave her a lopsided grin, his usual grim humor slipping through despite the situation. "Aye, I'll do me best. But I reckon a broken bone's a broken bone, whether ye're manling or dwarf."

Serene's smile was fleeting, but it was there. "Guess we'll find out," she murmured. "Just… don't leave me with a limp, aye?"

"Ye'll be runnin' circles around us in no time," Stronric said gruffly, but his tone was softer than usual.

Stronric met Dane's eyes, and the big man gave a grim nod. "Hold her steady," Stronric murmured.

Stronric knelt, his hands firm but gentle as he took hold of her leg. Rugiel's fingers brushed against Serene's temple, her voice calm but commanding. "Breathe, Serene. In and out." Serene leaned into the comfort provided by Rugiel's large but surprisingly soft like a mother embrace.

"On three," Dane said softly, his hands bracing Serene's thigh. "One… two…"

CRACK.

Serene's strangled scream echoed through the mountain, her nails digging into the Rugiel's arm as Stronric reset the bone with practiced efficiency. She panted, tears streaming down her face as the pain momentarily overwhelmed her senses.

"Done, lass," Stronric murmured softly, his tone unusually gentle. "Ye did good."

Serene's breaths came in quick, shallow gasps, but she managed to nod. "Give me… a moment." Her hands trembled as they hovered over her injured leg, her eyes fluttering closed as she murmured softly. A faint glow spread from her fingertips, the warmth of her healing magic flowing through the broken limb.

Rugiel's sharp eyes tracked the process, her expression one of quiet admiration. "Remarkable," she murmured.

Stronric grunted softly, his gaze never leaving Serene's face. "Aye. But let's not push her too hard."

Serene's breath slowed as the pain visibly began to ease, the color returning to her cheeks. "It's not perfect," she murmured, her voice still strained. "It'll be tender until I get a proper rest and can finish the job."

"Then we'll make damn sure ye get one when we get to the top," Stronric said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rugiel secured the bandages over the wound with practiced ease. "I don't even know if this will be helpful?"

Serene gave a weak chuckle. "Yes, the constant pressure will help support the bone." She said gently to Rugiel before turning back to Stronric. "Stronric how do you know how to set bones? Were you a farmer, or something similar?"

Stronric exhaled, standing to his full height and casting a wary glance towards Rugiel. "Aye, ye could say that, or at least something similar to that."

Dane looked at Stronric his eyes narrowing as he inspected the thane, "Some farm you had to work on."

"This farm does sound other worldly." Kara said as she looked from the group to something behind Stronric.

Stronric turned around and looked at the heart again. It was old. It was powerful. He exhaled, wiped some of the blood from the stone, and tucked it into his pouch. The weight settled against him like a buried secret.

"Stronric," Rugiel warned. "Ye don't even know what that thing is."

"Aye," he admitted, stepping away from the corpse. "But I'll find out."

The others exchanged uneasy glances, but no one moved to stop him. Stronric adjusted his axe, cracked his neck, and took one last look at the ruined colossus.

"Let's get moving. The summit won't wait on us." Without another word, he turned and started up the path, leading them further into the mountain's embrace.

Rugiel quickened her pace to walk alongside Stronric, giving him a worried glance. "Are you all right? Do you need a moment to rest?"

Stronric shook his head, though the motion caused it to spin slightly, something he kept to himself. His skull felt as though someone had struck it with a hammer; the adrenaline from the earlier fight was beginning to fade. Stronric grunted softly under his breath, wishing the flashing box would stop blinking, it only made the pain in his head even worse.

It was time to level up.

Age:73

Race: Dwarf (E)

Class: Herald Of the Ancestors

Race: Dwarf (E)

Class: Herald Of the Ancestors

Level:45

Strength: 35.1

Dexterity: 18

Agility: 16

Vitality: 24

Endurance: 31.6

Wisdom: 18

Intelligence: 15

Charisma: 15

Allocatable points: 96

Blessing of the Hearth (Minor)

Dwarven resistance (race)

Grudge Bearer (clan)

Titles:

Avenging son

Butcher.

Giant Slayer

One against all

Seeker of the gods.

Student of the Gods.

Troll slayer

World walker

Stronric stopped dead in his tracks and let out a whistle. Rugiel looked at him curiously. When Stronric shared his new title with her, her jaw dropped in astonishment.

"Ah, Rugiel, you are well, oui? You have not suffered any harm?" Armand asked, his voice filled with concern.

Stronric placed his hands on his hips, grinning at Armand. "I got myself another one of those titles!"

Armand looked surprised. "Another one?"

"Here, let me show y…" Stronric began, but Rugiel quickly grabbed his shoulder.

"My thane, I do not believe there is any need to show off," Rugiel said firmly.

Stronric met her glare and, after a moment, nodded, understanding her point. Armand appeared slightly disappointed but didn't press the matter further.

"Well, I'm gonna finish leveling," Stronric announced. "I'll take up the rear guard."

He stood aside, allowing the others to pass ahead of him.

Age:73

Race: Dwarf (E)

Class: Herald Of the Ancestors

Race: Dwarf (E)

Class: Herald Of the Ancestors

Level:45

Strength: 40.1

Dexterity: 18

Agility: 16

Vitality: 24

Endurance: 31.6

Wisdom: 18

Intelligence: 15

Charisma: 15

Allocatable points: 71

After spending twenty points on his strength, Stronric thoughtfully rubbed his beard. With more than fifty points still remaining, he recalled the conversations he'd had with Gromli about investing points into various attributes to become more well-rounded. Seeking the counsel of an experienced warrior, he called out to Armand. Armand, who had been speaking with Dane, raised a hand in acknowledgment. He excused himself and moved to join Stronric at the back of the line.

"Yes?" Armand looked at him curiously.

"I need ye help on how to spend my points." Stronric asked.

Armand looked surprised, "No one 'as taught you 'ow to level up? Impossible! I just watched you slay a giant!"

"I want to keep being well rounded, but I am starting to leave behind some of my stats." Stronric replied.

"Ah, zat is normal! I would not worry about it until you 'ave more zan twenty in one stat." Armand said to him waving away Stronric concern.

"Aye, over twenty? Okay I still need help." Stronric replied flatly.

"Surely you jest?" Armand said, taken aback. "I swear on my order, what is your 'ighest stat?"

Stronric looked around to make sure Rugiel couldn't hear him as he whispered, "Forty". The color drained from Armand's face. He seemed to mumbled to himself for a few seconds. Then with the speed and intensity of fire flickering to life after a match is struck.

"Stronric, by ze gods, 'ow 'ave you gained so many stats? Just 'ow many titles do you 'ave?"

Stronric just shrugged, "I've been busy."

"Busy? You 'ave been busy? Zat is your answer? Really, zat is ze answer you 'ave chosen?" Armand scoffed, crossing his arms. "'Ave you even slept since you were born? Stronric, most people never see over fifteen in zeir stats in zeir entire life! Peasants cannot even imagine ze power you carry. Soldiers and adventurers, oui, zey naturally 'ave 'igher stats zan peasants, but still! I am a knight-lord, and my 'ighest stat is forty. I 'ave devoted my life to ze path of ze knight. And yet... I wonder…"

Stronric looked at him, "Wonder what?"

"Eh, it is noz'ing!" Waving away his question before continuing. "Now, about your stats, when you 'ave as many as you do now, you do not want to be twice over your weaker stats zat must work togez'er." Stronric simply stared at the knight with brows raised.

Armand let out a sigh. "Simply put: if your strength is ten, zen your dexterity should be no less zan five. You see zese two, though different work in tandem to make a skilled fighter. If you become too overwhelming in just one or two stats, you shall become a monster, oui, but one who is easily countered by ze right opponent."

Stronric was nodding along with understanding as they paced themselves behind the party. Seeing the dwarf's thoughts Armand pressed on, "If someone 'as ze resources, zey will simply 'ire someone to defeat you wiz ease. I 'ave seen many of ze strength types, ze ones who can smash ze walls of cities, only to end up drooling, needing someone to change zeir pants after a wizard 'as finished wiz zem, by countering their strength and attacking their weaker stats."

Stronric grunted in understanding and thanked Armand for his help and wisdom. The two continued to walk together as Stronric opened Stat sheet again and thought upon where and how he should spend his points.

Age:73

Race: Dwarf (E)

Class: Herald Of the Ancestors

Race: Dwarf (E)

Class: Herald Of the Ancestors

Level:45

Strength: 40.1

Dexterity: 20

Agility: 20

Vitality: 24

Endurance: 31.6

Wisdom: 20.2

Intelligence: 15

Charisma: 15

Allocatable points: o

He decided to spend all of his points on catching up his weaker stats. Still not knowing exactly what his wisdom would do for him when in battle, but he was curious to see what would come out of it. Stronric exhaled slowly as the last of the glowing runes faded from his vision. The weight of his choices settled in his bones, quite literally. Strength thrummed through his limbs, a steady, undeniable power, but it was more than that.

There was… balance.

His movements felt smoother, more fluid, as if his body finally understood how to move with the grace of a seasoned warrior. His mind felt clearer, sharper. His senses, too, were keener, he could feel the subtle shift of air as Rugiel adjusted her stance beside him and heard the faint crackle of Serene's magic as it passively finished mending her shattered bones.

But the most surprising change was… something else. Something he couldn't quite place.

Wisdom.

Stronric frowned, flexing his fingers as an unfamiliar sensation prickled at the edge of his awareness. It wasn't like strength or agility. It was… quieter. Subtle. Like an instinct whispering at the back of his mind. For a moment, he felt as though the weight of the mountain itself pressed against his senses, not in threat—but in… recognition.

"Ye feelin' all right?" Rugiel's voice pulled him from his thoughts, her blue eyes narrowing as she studied him.

"Aye…" Stronric murmured, though he wasn't entirely sure. He clenched and unclenched his fists, testing the slight shift in his balance. "Stronger. Faster… but somethin' else too." His brow furrowed. "Can't quite place it."

Rugiel's gaze sharpened. "Did you just level and get a boost again, Stronric?"

Stronric's jaw tightened. "Aye."

Rugiel shook her head and a smile crossed her face, "Yer gonna end up leaving Bauru and I further and further behind."

Stronric chuckled and when Rugiel didn't Stronric looked at her face. Her eyes weren't red with emotion, but Stronric could see the puffiness before someone cried. Stronric reach out a hand and stopped her walking forward. She tried to shrug him off, but he held fast.

"Rugiel." Stronric voice dropping into a whisper as other looked at him. "Aye, yes I am getting stronger, but I am getting stronger for us, the clan, and Hearth Fire. I will never leave ye or our brother behind."

Rugiel nodded her and looked back at Stronric, "I am sorry, it's just hard with how much you and Bauru have grown. I just feel like I am walking up hill and gaining no ground."

"Ye pushing too hard, I have decades on ye remember? Theres no one I would rather have at my side. Now come on, ye get the next giant."

Rugiel smiled and nodded, and they fell back into line walking. The rest of the group was waiting for them just up ahead.

"I thought I was the one who was hurt?" Serene's voice was quieter than usual, but the color had returned to her cheeks, and she was leaning on Dane less than before. She stretched her mended leg carefully, testing her weight.

"Don't worry, lass I'll try to keep up," he said finally, pushing the thought aside. "I'll keep me feet planted."

"Good," she murmured, her lips quirking into a small smile. "Because I am not gonna share my walking stick."

Dane looked at the two of them and snorted shaking his head.

Stronric snorted, his usual grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

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