Bloodlines Of The Ancient Pantheons 330 Cccxxx. The Next Pages

"Well... I think Master Egill is right" Freydis added, who had witnessed the conversation.

With determination, Dag took the tome and tucked it into his bag, ready to start reading it as soon as he had the chance.

In the early afternoon, the twelve warriors of the troop were ready to leave and gathered in front of the Temple entrance, to officially greet their companions and Master Dargeon, who by that time became the sole defender of the Temple Of Orn, supported by his best students, some of whom had chosen to stay to help in case of need.

"Be forever grateful for the courage of your companions and your Masters, who have voluntarily chosen to put their lives at risk once again, to go where everyone else has stopped, to reach eternal glory and bring the name of our Clan to Krypstorm, Skjold's most inhospitable nation!" he shouted, addressing the warriors who would remain at the temple with him.

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" they screamed in unison, slamming their fists against their chests, as if they wanted to give strength and courage to their comrades, considering that this might be the last time they saw their faces.

"We will go on a mission, it is true... but do not forget that the dangers lie behind every mountain, at the bottom of every river, among the branches of each tree! Don't forget to defend Thor's sacred Temple at the cost of your life! May he watch over all of us!" Dag shouted back, contributing to Dargeon's farewell address, which looked at him and Egill with a slightly frightened expression.

Just then, Egill approached the Clan's Master Of Defense and did something never done before: in addition to being colleagues, after all the years spent practicing their Masters' profession side by side, Egill and Dargeon had become best friends and with that brotherly love forged by a thousand battles, they embraced in a warm hug.

This gesture of deep esteem and friends.h.i.+p moved many of the warriors who witnessed the scene, who realized that the danger of never returning was very high, to scare so much even two warriors of that caliber.

"Now as it used to be, my brother!"

"Now... as it used to be!" 

Dargeon and Egill, after the embrace, rested their hands on their respective shoulders, exchanging the last glance of understanding before the departure.

At that point, it was Dag's turn, who approached that big, fat man, who kept looking at him with pride.

"The time we spent together is not much, I know... but I will never forget your strength when we defended the Temple, our home, together. I hope I can train with you one day, Warchief!" Dargeon shouted, preceding Dag, who was very impressed by those words of confidence.

"The same goes for me, Master! I'm sure nothing will make inroads into your impenetrable bulwark! I am proud to have fought alongside you, I will remember that day all my life and it will give me the strength to continue to the end, towards my goals! Our goals!" Dag answered, raising his voice to be heard by the warriors who would remain so that they could remember that moment forever.

After the greetings and tears of many, Dag and his companions rode their horses, as did other warriors, some of whom drove a carriage, full of weapons and supplies, also destined to the troops of the other Clans.

Forming a full delegation of 16 units, they all began their journey to Skjegg together, continuing to chat with each other, imagining what they would find once they arrived in those unknown lands, fantasizing about mystical warriors and divine beasts, derived from popular myths and legends.

Master Egill made a long speech with Freydis, still intrigued by the question of the Inguz rune, trying to understand as many details as possible, in order to interpret Sondre's spell. 

Reidar and Dag, next to them, led the delegation, making their way through the valley paths between Mount Torden and Jernhest, observing a religious silence, both immersed in their own thoughts.

At one point, Dag opened his bag and pulled out the book, which opened easily in his hands.

This time he went beyond the front page, which contained nothing but the t.i.tle of the legendary skill.

'Performing this skill requires great mental and physical stability, as well as full control of one's muscles and breath, which are the keys to storing electricity in the body's center of gravity.'

After the first pages that summarily explained what it was, the later ones were dedicated to the history of the skill, explaining its origins and mentioning some famous names that had perfected and executed it, changing the course of the history of the planet Skjold.

'[...] everyone was able to complete the training and perform this coveted technique, but only one of them was perfect, bordering on the divine [ ...] the maximum expression of the Mjöllnir was seen right at the beginning, when to the warrior of the Thunder was handed this ancient tome by the mighty Thor, on the top of the Mount that from that moment on was renamed Torden [...] and only to that first disciple was given the name of Primal Thunder'

After reading those staves, Dag jolted, opening his eyes wide, recalling Reidar's story, which for a moment had suspected that somehow he and the Primal Thunder might be bound by an ancient kins.h.i.+p.

He looked at his companion, who was focused on looking at the road, plunged into his thoughts and with a happy expression

Then his gaze fell back on the book.

'[...] Memory Of Mjöllnir is not a mere divine skill, but much more [...] you can't exercise such a skill by ignoring its history. Mere technicalities are not enough if you want to achieve maximum mastery [...] the full control of the Mjöllnir allows the warrior to access the Asgardian Thunder, the primary source of the electric element that encompa.s.ses the true power of the brave Thor'

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