As soon as Sinclair realized he was a) victorious and b) somehow still alive, the next thing to cross his mind wasn't his wounds, or his friends (much to his own surprise). It was, in fact, him beating himself up once again for forgetting to loot the Draugr Captain, and reminding himself not to do so again. He reached forward and, tapping the elemental's body, set forth a deluge of notifications.

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

You have leveled up!

As you are a human, you receive plus one to Willpower and Endurance each time you level up

As you are a human, you receive twenty free points, for four levels, to spend on the stats of your choice

To level up, please assign your points.

New Items: Ice Core (Rare) x75

Description: An Ice Core is a rare and coveted crafting resource, native to the frigid expanse of Utgard's frozen wastes. These luminescent gems shimmer with an ethereal blue light, and are highly sought after for their crafting utility, as well as their trading value. Their rarity is due to the perilous conditions in which they are found; Ice Cores are typically guarded by packs of Ice Elementals, making their acquisition a formidable challenge. The cores emanate a cold, mystical energy, hinting at their deep connection to the elemental forces of ice and frost.

New Item: Necklace of the Glacier (Epic)

Description: The Necklace of the Glacier is a remarkable artifact, a legend steeped in the magic of the Norse world. Forged from a shard of ancient ice, hand-picked from the deepest and oldest glaciers of Jotunheim, it is a symbol of the enduring power of the north. The ice shard is as clear as the purest winter sky, and is set within an intricately woven chain made of silver. The chain is adorned with tiny runes that tell the story of old Norse sagas. These runes are believed to be blessings from the Jotnar, the mighty frost giants, and grant the wearer resilience against cold, along with a bond to the mystical forces of ice and frost. The necklace glows with an almost otherworldly luminescence, reminiscent of the faint shimmer of moonlight on snow-covered peaks.

Effects:

Greatly decreases damage from Ice based attacks

New Skill: Ice Shell; available only when worn

+5 Strength

+10 Intelligence

+8 Willpower

New Skill: Ice Shell (Item Specific)

Description: Once per day, cast an icy shield that protects you from any and all damage for ten seconds.

New Skill: Wild Shout (Uncommon)

Description: You can spend mana to make all enemies in the vicinity focus on you to the exclusion of other threats.

Effects: Radius: 30 feet

Duration: 15 seconds

Cool Down: 30 seconds

New Skill: Rage of the Berserkir (Rare)

Description: Rage of the Berserkir is a powerful skill that taps into the ancient ferocity of the Norse Berserkirs. Upon activation, the user channels the raw, unbridled energy of a Berserkir, enhancing their physical prowess to extraordinary levels. This skill boosts the user's strength, speed, and aggression in combat, mimicking their legendary ability to fight with unrestrained fury.

Effects:

Strength Amplification:

The user's physical strength is dramatically increased, allowing them to deliver devastating blows to their enemies.

Speed Enhancement:

Movement and attack speeds are significantly boosted, enabling the user to unleash a rapid succession of attacks.

Ferocious Aura:

The user emits an intimidating aura that can demoralize nearby enemies, potentially lowering their defense or causing them to hesitate.

Endurance Surge:

The user's endurance is temporarily heightened, allowing them to sustain the frenzied state of combat for a longer duration without succumbing to fatigue.

Bastard system. If I'd had that Ice Skill ability earlier, I could have had a break to read, or I could have sealed off the cage entrance and had a chance to recover and regroup. Can I send this back as defective?

As he calmed down and instead began to reflect upon his recent battles, he recognized they had, admittedly, yielded significant increases in his stats—the most substantial gains he had experienced since his journey began. It was becoming clear that he needed dedicated time to strategize, to consider innovative approaches for unlocking and utilizing new skills. Up to now, he mused, his success had been a blend of sheer will and what could only be described as good fortune.

As his health steadily regenerated, marked by the rhythmic tics of his increasing health bar, Sinclair focused on the immediate task at hand: recovery. He voraciously consumed food and water, replenishing his body with the vital nutrients needed to sustain the rapid and taxing physiological changes he had undergone.

And, as always, as soon as he thought of his stat gains while in a peaceful environment, a window popped up in front of him.

Your base stats have changed

+11 Strength

+8 Agility

+15 Constitution

+7 Intelligence

+5 Willpower

+13 Endurance

But the surprises didn't end there. Amidst the numbers, another notification caught his eye—a new title, awarded for an achievement he hadn't anticipated.

Quest Completed (Hidden): You are the first person in your world to get your base stats above 500

New Title: Gullinbursti's Golden Guardian (Unique)

Description: This illustrious title is awarded to the first entity that achieves a monumental feat in strength and skill, surpassing a total number of base stats over 500. This achievement aligns with the legendary might and resilience of Gullinbursti, the mythical golden boar in Norse mythology, known for its incredible strength and speed.

Effects:

You may pick three skills, which will immediately be upgraded to the first bonus level.

You gain +10% to all base stats

Time was pressing. He had less than a minute remaining, meaning he had no choice but to act swiftly; the decisions he made now could have far-reaching effects on his overall capability, but more importantly, they may make the difference between him and his friends surviving the final wave.

Your skills have increased!

Yggdrasil's Authority: Increased from Level 5 to Level 10

New Bonus: This skill now grants +10 to stats instead of +5

Rage of the Berserkir: Increased from Level 2 to Level 10

New Bonus: The boosts granted by this skill increase from slight to moderate

Focused Charge: Increased from Level 5 to Level 10

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

New Bonus: The Cool Down on this skill is reduced to five seconds; in addition, an afterimage is left behind as a decoy for three seconds

As the last few seconds dribbled away, Sinclair ran forward, waving goodbye to his friends once again. All I have to do is get through this wave and we're all homeward bound.

He was absolutely exhausted and desperately needed time to process everything that had happened to him.

As Sinclair reached his usual starting place, the light went off in the distance. He waited for the second… and waited… and waited some more. Okay then, it looks like it's going to be a one-on-one for the title belt. It took about 30 seconds of absolute silence, but he eventually heard a huge sound, and with horror realized that the tops of the trees were moving as something pushed through them. Well slap me silly and call me Shirley… surely it can't be that big.

Striding through the forest was a giant. A giant, fucking, giant. A GFG, for short. It was pale blue and covered in mismatched armor. It carried a giant mace in one hand that had to weigh as much as a motorcycle. The giant was easily 20 feet—or more—tall. What was he supposed to do with this? Time to do a Mario and go jump, man. Borderline hysterical, and holding back the urge to giggle at the absurdity of the enemy's size.

Name: Jarl Fulvragg

Race: Frost Giant

Level: 58

Health: 4700/4700

Description: Jarl Fulvragg, a figure steeped in the lore of Utgard, is more than just the ruler of his region; he is a legend unto himself. His backstory is a tapestry of fierce battles, shrewd leadership, and an unbreakable will. Raised in the harsh, unforgiving landscapes of Jotunheim, Fulvragg quickly distinguished himself as a warrior of extraordinary prowess. His journey from a young, ambitious fighter to the Jarl of Utgard is a saga filled with trials against formidable beasts, cunning rival Jarls, and even the treacherous elements of the realm itself.

Sinclair found himself momentarily staggered by the sheer magnitude of his adversary's health pool. To compound his awe, the name of his foe was, unlike any before, emblazoned in a striking gold hue. Until this point, everyone he had fought had designations in white, or pale blue; until now, he hadn't realized that the colors meant anything.

The golden name before him made the situation clear: color depicted rarity, difficulty level, or some combination of the two. If I think back to some of the old-school RPGs I've played, they had a consistent color system: Grey was normal, or common; White was Uncommon and non-Magical; Blue was Uncommon and Magical; Yellow was Rare, which were pretty much always Magical anyway; and Orange was Legendary. But some games used an additional color, either purple, for mythical, or gold, for unique. And well done Sinclair, you've won the golden jackpot, it looks like you've found a unique enemy.

With this in mind, Sinclair understood the gravity of the situation: Jarl Fulvragg wasn't just another opponent; he was akin to the apex predator of this realm, a being of unique power and status. The realization that he was about to face the "biggest bastard in the building," as it were, settled heavily on Sinclair, sharpening his focus and bracing him for the monumental challenge ahead.

The Jarl placed his massive mace down beside him, making a resounding thud that echoed across the frostbitten landscape. Lowering his eyes to the—for once—shorter man, he addressed Sinclair in a voice that might as well have been the auditory embodiment of roughness and power. It was a voice that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the frozen realm. "So, you are the little one who has bested every challenge I've set before you," he boomed, his words cutting through the cold air. "Your victories have cast a shadow on my strength, so, now you shall pay the price with your blood." He paused, his nostrils flaring slightly as if catching a scent on the wind. "And the lives of those hiding in that cave will be forfeit as well."

His tone was a mix of disdain and grudging respect, the voice of a leader unaccustomed to being challenged. His eyes, sharp and piercing, fixed on Sinclair with an intensity that seemed to weigh and measure his worth. The threat hanging in the air was as palpable as the chill of Jotunheim itself, setting the stage for a confrontation that was about more than just physical combat; it was a clash of wills, a battle for survival and honor.

The snow swirled around Sinclair in a gust of wind, lending a dramatic flair to the tense standoff. He looked up at the towering Jarl, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I may have been thrust onto this path against my will," he began, his voice steady and clear against the howling wind. "But the fact that you think you're strong enough to threaten my friends," he nodded towards the cave, "only makes me pity your enemies. They must be exceptionally pathetic if you're considered the mightiest Jarl in these lands."

Sinclair's calm demeanor belied the strategic intent behind his words. He was deliberately provoking the Jarl, taking a calculated risk in order to keep the formidable leader's attention solely on him and away from the cave containing his friends. He could feel the familiar heat stirring in his chest, which typically arose mid-battle, flaring up now—even before the fight had begun.

The Jarl's response came with a rumbling chuckle, as deep and resonant as a distant avalanche. "You possess courage as vast as mountains, little human" he said, his tone tinged with a mix of amusement and respect. "Do not let those brass balls of yours weigh you down. I earned my position through strength and leadership. Under different circumstances, I might have even considered recruiting you. But alas," his eyes narrowed, the amusement fading into a steely resolve, "my duty now is to end your life, in punishment for your defiance." His words echoed in the frost-laden air, sealing the inevitability of their clash.

"Do what you think you must," Sinclair retorted with unwavering resolve. "I, too, will take the only path that is right,, with fire and blood if necessary." Gripping his axe firmly, he hoisted it onto his shoulder and began advancing towards Jarl Fulvragg. His pace was measured, neither hastened by fear nor slowed by doubt, but fueled by a fiery determination that seemed to radiate from his very being.

Jarl Fulvragg, who had lived through countless winters and witnessed the rise and fall of many warriors, found himself taken aback by Sinclair's confidence. To him, Sinclair was an enigma; when he attempted to analyze this defiant human, all that returned was basic information and the baffling revelation that he was a level 0… nothing. This made absolutely no sense to the Jarl, considering the formidable adversaries Sinclair had overcome. Trolls, elves and a pack of ice elementals had all been dispatched to halt his progress, yet here he stood, unbroken.

The battlefield around them bore the scars of fierce combat, a testament to the struggles that had transpired. Furthermore, Jarl Fulvragg's senses extended well beyond the immediate confrontation, and he could detect only a few weak humans, along with two young—but nevertheless stronger—wolves in the cave nearby. There was no sign of an ambush. No sign of hidden reinforcements. This human, standing so boldly before him, defied all conventional understanding. Something about Sinclair was profoundly out of the ordinary, and Jarl Fulvragg couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and caution as he prepared to face this mysterious challenger.

Sinclair closed the distance with the Jarl, and as soon as his enemy was within the range of his charge skill, he unleashed it without warning. A sudden, explosive burst of energy and speed propelled him forward. In the brief moment between activating Focused Charge and making contact, he channeled every bit of energy he could muster into his enhanced Cleave. His target was strategic – the outside ankle of the towering Frost Giant. Sinclair knew that to stand a chance, he needed to topple the giant, to bring him down to a level where he could strike at more vital areas.

His movement was a blur, a fusion of speed and impeccable timing that bordered on the miraculous. As he soared past the Jarl's ankle, it seemed for a moment as if his attack would miss. The Jarl, seasoned in the art of war, had anticipated the maneuver, angling his ankle away in the nick of time.

However, what Jarl Fulvragg hadn't accounted for was the latent energy coursing along Sinclair's blade. It didn't matter that the blade itself had failed to make contact, as in a split second, energy lashed out, bridging the gap and biting into the flesh just below the ankle bone, coming perilously close to severing the Jarl's achilles tendon. This unexpected turn of events caught the Jarl off guard, his battle-hardened composure momentarily faltering in the face of Sinclair's unorthodox—yet cunning—fighting style.

As the Jarl pivoted on his uninjured heel, he unleashed a wild swing with his mace, its force so immense that it uprooted a tree and sent it crashing to the ground. The mace then thundered into the earth, creating a small crater a dozen feet from where he presumed Sinclair to be. Grunting with the strain of the effort, the Jarl struggled to regain his footing, turning this way and that in an attempt to locate his elusive human adversary. With horror, he realized that Sinclair's skill had stripped over 200 points from his health—an astonishing feat.

Sinclair was closer than the Jarl realized, and had stayed almost directly under his feet, certain that the Frost Giant would expect him to get further away from danger. As the giant scanned the area for him, Sinclair seized the opportunity to strike again. With a swift charge, he targeted the inside of the Jarl's already injured leg. His blade made a solid connection, carving through the flesh before he swiftly retreated just beyond the Jarl's striking range. Circling back, he assessed the situation, searching for any new vulnerabilities.

The Jarl was visibly compensating for the injury now, putting more weight on his uninjured leg. This slight shift in the Jarl's movement and posture was all Sinclair needed: it revealed the giant's discomfort and provided a tactical advantage that he was ready to exploit.

As Sinclair launched into another charge, Jarl Fulvragg anticipated his move with the intuition of only the most seasoned warriors. Waiting until Sinclair was fully committed to his attack, the Jarl unleashed a skill of his own. He stomped down with both feet, one after the other, sending small seismic waves rippling out from his colossal form. The waves hit Sinclair with such force that they sent him soaring into the air, and the momentum from his charge amplified the effect, making it appear as though he had been launched into flight.

However, using the skill had been a painful experience, and Jarl Fulvragg was unbalanced. Unable to align his mace for a strike, the Jarl instead lashed out with his good leg, successfully clipping Sinclair mid-air and adding a spin to his already tumultuous trajectory. Sinclair was flung like a leaf in a storm, landing in a crumpled heap approximately 40 yards away. The Jarl could see that, miraculously, the human hadn't sustained much damage, but it was impossible to miss that the human was disorientated.

Meanwhile, Sinclair was dazed, The world a blur, with pain throbbing throughout his body. Though he had no open wounds, his senses were scrambled. As he shook his head, trying to clear the fog, he could sense the giant's approach. Still seeing double, he staggered to his feet, only to be sent flying across the field once again by a powerful punt from the Jarl.

Jarl Fulvragg's gaze followed the impudent human as he hurtled through the air, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his demeanor. He could sense the tide of battle gradually turning back in his favor, the scales of victory tilting towards what he believed to be the inevitable outcome. At the outset, the human's brimming confidence and indomitable will had sown a seed of doubt in the Jarl's mind, nearly convincing him that there was something amiss, perhaps with a trap or some other unforeseen variable at play.

But as the fight wore on, that initial flicker of concern had faded, replaced by a growing certitude. Jarl Fulvragg had now reassured himself of his inevitable success, his experience in countless battles reaffirming his belief in his superior strength. The notion of defeat, which had briefly clouded his thoughts, dissipated as swiftly as it had appeared. With a stoic resolve, he watched and waited, certain that the human's defiance was nothing more than the last stand of the vanquished, and that soon, very soon, he would stand victorious.

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