Ritual

"So, what exactly are my stats?" Solam asked, quite curious.

Granny Karom was very forthcoming. "Strength 14, Constitution 14, Intelligence 18, Agility 10, Perception 15, Charisma 12."

(I should clarify here that the base stats for an untrained human are generally around 10. Because Avalon orcs are naturally robust and receive training from a young age, their stats are generally quite high. If one had to set a standard, an adult orc's Strength and Constitution would typically exceed 18, Intelligence would be on the lower side, around 8 to 9, Agility would be around 15, and Perception would generally be low, only about 8 to 12. Furthermore, character growth doesn't work like in a game where you add points; basically, whichever aspect you train is what grows. If you neglect an attribute, it will decrease—for instance, mages who always hole up in their towers usually see their Constitution decline.)

It turned out Solam had the highest Intelligence, though he didn't know what the normal level was, so he didn't think much of it.

But everyone else was stunned. One had to realize that for a 12-year-old orc to have these stats—especially in terms of Strength and Constitution—was already quite impressive compared to ordinary orc children. He was stronger than his peers, and he was a half-breed! Even more exaggerated was that a little brat had an Intelligence as high as 18; that was rare among orcs. Orcs never lacked those born with immense strength, but most of them weren't very bright.

Although they knew Solam was smart, they hadn't expected him to be this smart.

The old man's eyes went wide upon hearing this. "It would be a waste if that Intelligence didn't go toward becoming a mage." The old man had traveled extensively in his youth and knew how powerful a mage could be.

"What do you mean 'a waste'? Is it beneath him to become a Shaman?" The old woman was displeased the moment she heard that. "What's so good about those scrawny mages? A gust of wind could blow them away." Occupational prejudice is everywhere, it seems...

Seeing Granny Karom flare up, the old man quickly shut his mouth; there was no point in arguing. Not to mention that Avalon had no mages, even if it did, it wouldn't matter—Solam's Berserker talent couldn't be solved by a mage; it still required the power of a Shaman. Besides, the old man himself looked down on the pathetic physical constitution of mages, so by comparison, a Shaman was better, even if only marginally. Thus, occupational prejudice is indeed everywhere...

At this moment, Granny Karom said to Solam, "The most important stat for becoming a Shaman is Perception. Generally, if your Perception is over 12, you have a chance to become a Shaman. With your Perception so high, there will definitely be no problem. And your Intelligence won't go to waste either." A Shaman's Perception determines their spell power, while Intelligence determines the number of spells they can cast. (Shamans do not cast spells via the Weave, so the number of spells each Shaman can cast varies.)

Since it had come to this, Solam was naturally willing. Besides, being able to cast spells—just thinking about it felt exciting.

And so, everyone decided to hold the channeling ritual in three days.

Three days later.

To be honest, for the first time, Solam felt that being a Shaman was truly a pitfall. Ever since the decision was made that day, he hadn't been allowed to eat or sleep, because he had to empty his mind for the channeling ritual; he couldn't have any distracting thoughts, or it might interfere with the ritual's effect.

Although Solam didn't understand why emptying his mind meant he couldn't eat or sleep, he didn't know what "emptying his mind" felt like anyway. He only knew that he was now exhausted and hungry, his whole body feeling dizzy and lethargic. Forget emptying his mind; he figured he was about to lose consciousness any second. But this wasn't up to him, and he couldn't pass out even if he wanted to—someone came to ensure he stayed awake every so often. This period felt like torture to Solam, making him suspect his family was punishing him for his recklessness last time. Solam felt that if that were the case, he'd rather take a beating; at least a beating would be over once he endured it, and he didn't believe his family could do much to him anyway. That would be far better than this slow torment.

Just as Solam was drifting in and out of hazy, wandering thoughts, Granny Karom finally came in to tell him the ritual was starting.

Solam didn't even have the heart to be happy that the torture was finally ending; he felt like a walking corpse, dull and dazed. If Aunt Solari and Krum hadn't come over to help him up, he wouldn't have known how to stand.

Just like that, Solam was dizzily supported by Solari and Krum to the open-air altar. Snow was everywhere, and Solam was almost naked, wearing only a pair of small shorts as he knelt on the altar. Surrounding the altar were all the Shamans of the clan, including Aunt Solari.

"The ritual begins," Granny Karom announced, standing before Solam.

Then, all the orcs watching the ceremony knelt on one knee, bowing their heads toward the altar. The surrounding Shamans began to dance; they were dressed in ceremonial garb, adorned with ornaments carved from bones and the like, their faces painted with oil colors. They chanted songs that no one could understand, each carrying instruments, playing them while dancing like spirit mediums. It was quite lively. Granny Karom, meanwhile, stood with her back to Solam, muttering something.

As the ritual progressed, the altar began to emit a faint glow. Seeing the light appear, the surrounding Shamans danced even more vigorously, and Granny Karom's chanting grew increasingly urgent.

The music and dancing became more frantic, and the light on the altar grew brighter and brighter until it completely engulfed Solam. Granny Karom suddenly turned around, knelt, opened her arms, and began to pray to the sky. The surrounding Shamans also stopped dancing and, like Granny Karom, opened their arms and knelt on the ground, praying to the sky. The light on the altar seemed stimulated, suddenly brightening significantly, and finally forming a pillar of light.

When Granny Karom saw the pillar of light on the altar, her face was filled with ecstasy. The others also stared at the pillar in shock; clearly, no one had expected this.

Setting the others aside, after the ritual began, Solam had completely blacked out, losing consciousness entirely. But after a while, he felt someone calling him. The voice came from afar, drawing closer and becoming clearer, yet Solam didn't know what the voice was saying.

Solam was awakened by this voice and struggled to open his eyes, but he was no longer at the altar. He was in boundless darkness, floating alone. Just as he was trying to figure out the situation, a light suddenly appeared in the distance and shot toward him at high speed. As the light drew closer, the voice grew louder.

Suddenly, the light shot directly into Solam, and he was completely enveloped by it. The radiance stung his eyes, and he instinctively closed them. When he opened them again, he was in another space. This space was filled with brilliant colors, and the voice suddenly became very loud, as if countless people were speaking in his ears. It was so noisy he couldn't distinguish what they were saying. Just as Solam was bewildered and didn't know what to do, everything suddenly fell silent.

Solam immediately looked around, but apart from the brilliant colors, there was nothing. Yet, he felt that someone or something was watching him.

"A special soul," a massive voice resonated, deep and slow.

"It has the scent of the River of Souls," a gentle female voice said, one that made people involuntarily drift away in it.

"A flicker of eternal radiance within the soul," an ethereal female voice drifted, seemingly wandering around, elusive.

"This soul is favored by the world," a grumpy voice rang out, feeling as though its owner might lash out at any moment.

"What shall we do?"

"The ancient oath must be fulfilled."

"I am very interested in him. Since he has responded to the call, I have decided to fulfill the oath."

"So be it."

As soon as the words fell, four rays of different colored light shot toward Solam, and then he passed out again. Damn, why am I so unlucky? That was Solam's last thought before losing consciousness. Hell, I haven't been awake more than a few times these past few days.

On the altar, when Solam passed out in the unknown space, the pillar of light enveloping him suddenly expanded rapidly and then exploded. Instantly, the world turned pure white, and everyone was struck as if by a flashbang, squeezing their eyes shut.

When everyone opened their eyes, they saw Solam floating in the air, surrounded by four totem poles, each a different color: red, yellow, blue, and white.

As the four totem poles slowly vanished, Solam also slowly descended.

Solam woke up again. Yes, "again."

After waking up this time, his first sensation wasn't hunger, but that he had awakened another ability.

Ability—"Communication," a very peculiar ability. This ability was somewhat like a universal translator. It meant that possessing the Communication ability allowed one to converse with anything. It was very similar to a Druid's skill.

In his past life, this ability wouldn't have been much—just the ability to communicate with animals—but Solam felt it was very unique now. He could sense many other things; for instance, he could feel the wind and water elements in the blizzard rejoicing. He even felt he could communicate with the elements and make them obey him—something completely impossible in his past life. And he felt there was more to it than that.

Just as Solam was lost in his wandering thoughts, Frostfang saw him wake up and immediately ran over, making a move to pounce on him. Seeing this, Solam immediately wanted to tell Frostfang to stop, but before the words could even leave his mouth, Frostfang actually stopped. Solam was stunned; although the dire wolf was smart, it wasn't to the level of being able to read expressions. Frostfang sat on the ground looking at Solam, and as Solam looked at Frostfang, he immediately felt the wolf's joy and excitement.