Capítulo 5: Where Strength Resides
In three days, Haldor had mastered all of his predecessor's combat skills. In this crisis-ridden world, survival relied not on luck but on strength.
He wasn't foolish; he knew perfectly well that the monstrous wolves and wild creatures in the mountains hadn't attacked them because he was accompanied by his dragon. Somehow, those animals sensed the presence of a dragon and chose to keep their distance rather than risk an attack.
But ever since he stopped relying on luck and instead began training with dual axes, that icy energy coursing through his body had grown much stronger. The power surging through him was not normal for his age; he knew for certain that somehow he was enhancing his physical abilities.
He couldn't compare his strength to Baba Voss, both in terms of age and experience. But he was certainly not far behind warriors twice his age, a comparison drawn from real, simulated fights he had with strong Vikings.
He just turned fourteen; his strength, speed, and physique were far from reaching their limits, yet they were already extraordinarily remarkable for his age.
His steps were light, and he walked in silence with eyes as sharp as seasoned warriors'. No disturbance around him could escape his notice.
According to Ravyn, now everyone looks at him with respect. In the north, one doesn't become a man until they've killed someone, and Haldor had slain multiple enemies over the days.
This didn't thrill him, but it was good that others didn't underestimate him. Besides, with his memories restored, he recalled his older brothers, his father, and how his deceased mother had left him enough gold to keep him away from the northern crown.
According to his memories, they were now at Bastion Kar, much farther north of the kingdom's castle than he had expected. It was the first fortress in the north, halting the savages from entering his realm and protecting hunters from all manner of threats.
What interested him most in all this information was that in the far north lay magical creatures known as armored bears, fluent in human language and excellent warriors capable of easily slaying a dozen men before receiving a scratch.
These polar bears were led by their king, maintaining their own hierarchy and seldom negotiating with humans, as both sides simply did not cross paths.
But Haldor was intrigued by them; he knew his father's dragon was weak, and upon its death, the crown would lose power in the north, leaving his careless heir to take his place.
Most worrisome was that Haldor desired the crown, to tell his dead mother that now he was the King as promised, but he knew he needed the loyalty of the far northern polar bears. These magnificent warriors, capable of fighting off a large army, had to serve him.
"Who would have thought Haldor had this up his sleeve?"
Haldor held a jewel, the magical relic his mother had passed down to him, the Moon Seed, that protected the icy castle in the Shadow Tower, benefiting the polar bears as they too needed light to survive.
In fair trade, polar bears disliked owing anything to anyone and repaid their debts through weighty actions. Haldor had everything calculated, but he didn't expect to die at the hands of a dragon's egg.
Azazel, Haldor's dragon, now symbolized more than power; it was the future of the north, and only he knew it. Yet, it was still very young; despite growing rapidly, it was just a baby with no combat experience.
Thus, considering all possible scenarios, Haldor wouldn't risk returning home, even if his father welcomed him with open arms.
Baba Voss recommended seeking leadership in the City of the Shadow Tower, the city Haldor originally wanted to control the polar bears and wield enough power to quell any rebellion.
"When do you think I'll become a good sorcerer?" Haldor asked Baba Voss, who had seen his potential.
"You'll be strong very fast; you have a strong talent and initial knowledge, so you just need to train until you're strong enough."
The previous Haldor had remained in the initial training stage. After rising from the dead, taking Azazel as his dragon, and receiving its magical blessing, he had significantly improved upon his previous talents.
Now he had reached an intermediate level in his energy control. The gap that was already above most ordinary people had widened by many levels.
From what Haldor had heard, many could reach the initial levels of sorcery with the right skills and resources. But now he could surpass them all very quickly and with little effort.
Considering his age, there would be much room for growth in the future. But like everything, it needed time; he had to wait for it to grow much more.
The human lifespan was too short, and the saying that learning has no end applies everywhere. After learning all combat skills in sorcery, a person's lifespan will reach half. If injured in action and not treated in time, their lifespan will shorten, and they will die faster than an elderly person.
Haldor had fully inherited the memories and skills of the original owner. The original owner had some talent for preparing poisons. In this era when many medicines are still handmade, preparing medicines requires experience and a bit of common sense.
The only chance he has to benefit from all these possible future paths is to cross the line between life and death.
"Prepare a raven; I want to send a letter to my father." Haldor knew his father understood his situation; he would let him do as he pleased as long as he did good things for the crown.
Haldor's authority as prince offered him many rights that were well respected by the people of the north with Viking ancestry. At least Haldor had the chance to learn more about the culture of this region and understood that it was similar to that of the Norse in many aspects.
The entire world was medieval; the technology that Haldor, as an architect, could bring to this place was extremely important and would give many the necessary advantages to survive the winter much more easily.
Ravyn walked towards Haldor with a worried expression and asked, "My prince, wouldn't it be better to return to the city where your father has control over everything?"
"Many seek my head; I don't have the age or strength to continue protecting my life, and we understand it's better for my interests to stay as far away from my brothers as possible, even if it exposes me to other dangers. As far as I'm concerned, I'd prefer to die at the hands of some monster than my own blood." Haldor didn't raise his gaze, ensuring the man placing the letter on the raven didn't botch it.
He didn't need advice because he wasn't a fool; he understood his situation better than anyone, so in discreet words, he told Ravyn that he didn't need his counsel but rather required and strengthened his co-prince authority. His duty wasn't to deceive people into believing he was a prince; he had made it clear he was a prince not because his father was king but because he deserved it.
If he were to become the lord of the Shadow Tower on the far northern frontier, where only criminals, hunters, and men who had lain with another warrior's wife resided, it was undoubtedly a peculiar place to rule and undoubtedly required authority, which he would have when his dragon grew, but until then, he must demonstrate his strength.
"I'm going to rest; I've barely slept in the last few days," said Haldor after finishing what he had set out to do after regaining his memories.
Returning to his room, Haldor looked into a mirror and noticed his hair was turning white from the roots.
"His father also has white hair; it's said to have taken that color because of his dragon. I heard from Ravyn that you took an egg, and after that, you fell ill for a short period."
Haldor didn't need to lift his gaze to know it was Baba Voss, so he said, "Now I know who not to tell a secret."
"Alcohol does many more things than make a man a fool, but as your guardian, I want to know if you have a dragon."
"I do, and now that I know of these changes, I need to move faster than I had planned."
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
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