One Year Later: The Untamed
A full year had passed. The days bled into one another—frost into thaw, sun into storm—and before I knew it, sixteen winters had come and gone. Hiccup and I were no longer the fragile boys clinging to hope. We were something else now. Something bigger.
We stood taller. Spoke firmer. Fought harder.
And the world had noticed.
Our names were no longer whispered among just the village children or muttered skeptically by elders over mugs of mead. No—our names sailed across the sea, carried on wind and story alike.
Some came to challenge me. Big men. Older. Hardened by war and arrogance. They didn't leave with much pride. Some didn't leave with their weapons. One didn't leave with all his teeth.
And Hiccup… They mocked him at first. Soft-spoken, wide-eyed Hiccup. My brother, my twin, my heart. They laughed—until they saw him raise his hand, whisper something barely audible… and a monstrous Nadder lowered its head at his feet. He earned their awe. They called him "Hiccup the Dragon Talker." They called me "Erik the Untamed."
I thought it was just a fancy name, at first. But it stuck. I carried it like a second skin—wild and unbreakable.
Life continued. Routine but relentless. My mornings were for training. Afternoons for testing weapons, fighting beasts in the wild. Nights for learning—runes, tactics, history, anything Gothi would teach me in her cryptic, silent way.
And yet… a strange emptiness festered in the cracks of my victories.
Status Sheet – Erik HaddockAge: 16Race: HumanTitles: Protector, Relentless, Tactician, Dragon-Sighted, Ironblood Trainee, Beastwalker, Lone Fang, Woundforged, Forest Reaper, Beast SlayerStats:Strength: 21Defense: 23Dexterity: 20Stamina: 22Intelligence: 25Magic: 6Passive Skills: Pain Resistance (Lv. 35), Tactical Analysis (Lv. 31), Environmental Combat (Lv. 36), Crafting (Lv. 27), Identify (Lv. 45), Genius (Lv. 1), Accelerated Thinking (Lv. 1), Weapon Genius (Lv. 1), Versatile Arsenal (Lv. 29), Rune Crafting (Lv. 6)Active Skills: Battle Trance (Lv. 26), Thrust (Lv. 48), Slash (Lv. 45)
That Magic stat… 6. Pathetic. Despite all my effort, all the blood I spilled and pages I studied—it barely moved.
But worse, so much worse, was the Versatile Arsenal skill. The curse disguised as a blessing. Sure, I could pick up anything and use it decently. A sword, an axe, a glaive, a bow—but every inch of progress in that skill took ten times the effort. It was like trying to chisel stone with a feather.
It felt like a cosmic joke.
I sat in the forest alone, staring at a chipped dagger in my palm. The breeze rustled the leaves. Distant birds called to each other across the canopy, but all I could hear was the thudding of my own heart—slow, frustrated, dull.
"This… this isn't enough," I muttered.
Then I remembered.
The tickets.
My eyes widened.
"Wait. I didn't use my birthday tickets."
Every year, I get ten. A strange, almost whimsical gift from the system—one that always held promise, hope. I had forgotten to spend them this year, but not anymore. With all the quests and achievements I've completed, I knew I had a lot more than just ten.
I shot to my feet and sprinted through the trees, past moss-covered stones and roots that threatened to trip me. I reached my secret base—carved from earth and time itself. A hidden place, known only to me, lined with runic wards and a stone circle where the system always answered.
My hand trembled as I called it forth.
System – Gacha Available.Tickets: 250Points: 100,500
I couldn't help it. I grinned.
"Alright, let's see what fate has for me."
Click – [Ten-Time Draw] +1 Item: Ten Dragon Scales +1 Item: Ten Leather Pelts +1 Item: Sharp Iron Knife +1 Item: Sturdy Iron Shield +1 Item: Skill Upgrade Card +1 Item: Sharp Small Iron Sword +1 Item: Ten Leather Pelts +1 Item: Sharp Iron Knife +1 Item: Skill Upgrade Card +1 Item: Sharp Small Iron Sword
"Okay… not bad."
I went again.
Same exact draw.
My smile faltered.
"No way."
Again.
Same.
"Okay—what the hell?!"
I clicked again. And again. And again. My breaths became ragged. My palms sweaty. The loot was the same every time.
I was being mocked.
"System, are you broken? Or are you just screwing with me?"
System – The host should be happy. Skill Upgrade Cards are a rare drop.
"Then why do I have a hundred of them?! I want something new! Something alive!"
Click. Click. Click. Each pull chipped away at my patience.
"AGAIN!" My voice echoed through the trees, half a scream, half a sob. "AGAIN!!"
I collapsed to my knees, gripping my head. The forest was quiet again. I wasn't.
"I worked. I bled. I trained. And all I get is... iron? Pelts? I deserve more than this."
I looked back at the draw menu.
Remaining Tickets: 10
The last ten.
My fingers hovered.
"Don't. Just stop, Erik. It's not worth it. It's not worth the heartbreak."
But my other hand trembled, twitching toward the button.
"It's because they're the last ten…"
A breath caught in my throat.
"…that I have to try one more time."
Click – [Final Ten-Time Draw] Trash. More trash. Leather. Pelts. Iron.
My heart sank.
Until—
[Unique Skill Acquired: Fire Dragon Slaying Magic]
I froze.
Time stopped.
I reread it once.
Twice.
Three times.
My hands shook.
"System…" I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Is this… what I think it is?"
System – This magic originates from a lost plane. When mastered, it grants transformation into a Fire Dragon form and enables creation of derivative skills.
I didn't breathe.
"Transformation…?"
The silence confirmed it.
"…I can become a dragon?"
My mouth slowly curled into a disbelieving grin. Then I laughed. Loud. Wild. Feral.
"YES! FINALLY! SOMETHING WORTH IT!"
I danced in circles in that clearing, screaming into the sky. I didn't care who heard. Let the gods hear it. Let the whole damn world know—
I was finally getting somewhere.
That night, I returned home under the moonlight. The dragons were already sleeping, curling protectively around the edges of the village. Lanterns dimmed. The hearths glowed orange through cabin windows.
I opened our door.
Warm light. The smell of stew. A blanket over the table. And food. Hot, fresh, waiting for me.
I blinked, heart swelling. I hadn't known I needed this—but gods, I did.
I let out a small, broken laugh. Not wild like before. Just quiet. Grateful.
Sixteen. Strong. Blessed with magic from another world. And now... dinner waiting for me.
I sat down, grinning like a fool, savoring every bite of roasted meat and honeyed bread, the warmth of the hearth making everything feel perfect for just a moment. Hiccup sat across from me, contentedly nibbling on a corner of bread, eyes flicking to mine every so often with a quiet smile. It felt like home.
Then my father's voice cut through the peace like a blade.
"Erik, I have something to tell you."
The words landed with a weight that knocked the smile off my face mid-chuckle. My hand, halfway to my mouth, froze over the plate. Even Hiccup stopped chewing, his eyes suddenly wide, uncertain.
The room went still. The fire crackled in the hearth, a lonely sound in the growing silence. Tension coiled between us like a sleeping dragon stirring.
Father raised an eyebrow, amused. "No need to look like a criminal caught red-handed. It's not that serious. Breathe."
I exhaled, slow and forced, like I'd been underwater. I rolled my shoulders, trying to shrug off the chill that had crept up my spine. But there was something behind his voice—a purpose. He didn't say things like this unless they mattered.
I reached for my mug, fingers tight around the handle, and took a sip to mask the nerves clawing up my throat.
"A letter arrived this morning," Father said, his voice carefully steady. "From the kingdom of DunBroch."
I frowned. "Isn't that the one your old friend rules?"
He gave a small nod, eyes not leaving mine. "Yes. King Fergus."
Something was coming. I could feel it. If it were just a friendly letter, he'd have mentioned it in passing, not served it like a second course at dinner.
"He has a daughter," Father added, slicing through a piece of meat with the casual grace of a man delivering judgments. "Merida. She's of age now, and they're holding a gathering for suitors."
The mug slipped in my hand.
Then he said it.
"I want you to go. As a potential suitor… and as our representative."
PCHOOO
I spat out my drink in a chaotic spray, coughing like I'd swallowed fire. My throat burned as I wheezed, pounding a fist to my chest. "I— What?!"
Hiccup, poor thing, dropped his spoon with a loud clink and stared at me like I'd just turned into a dragon. His cheeks were flushed, round eyes full of shock and… maybe pity.
"Why me?" I rasped between coughs, still recovering.
Father calmly dabbed at his mouth with a cloth napkin, as if he hadn't just tossed my entire world out the window. "Because you're next in line. And Hiccup…" he glanced at my red-faced twin, "already has someone in mind, it seems."
Black lines may as well have formed across my forehead. My eye twitched. I shot Hiccup a glare, and he squeaked, ducking behind his cup like it was a shield.
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "Ugh… Fine."
The word tasted like defeat.
I sighed. "When do we leave?"
"In a week."
I didn't respond. Just finished eating in silence, the food turning to ash in my mouth. Then I trudged to my room, every step heavier than the last.
An hour later…
I flopped onto my back for the thirtieth time, staring at the ceiling like it owed me answers.
"Damn it… I can't sleep."
The weight of it all—expectations, duty, and the ridiculous notion of wooing a princess—pressed down on my chest like a boulder. I wasn't some romantic hero out of a saga. I was me. An awkward, magic-bumbling, half-trained heir trying to keep up with the shadow of a legend.
But then I remembered—the skill.
The one I hadn't dared try. Not seriously.
A slow grin crept across my face. If I couldn't be a perfect prince… maybe I could at least be more.
I sat up, heart pounding, and held out my palm.
"Alright… Focus… Flick."
A tiny flame flickered to life in my hand. No larger than a candle's flame. But it was mine.
My grin widened into something manic.
System Notification:Host, your magic stat is extremely low and your proficiency is practically nonexistent. Repeated use of magic-based skills will deplete your mana pool. Doing so will encourage its natural growth.
I blinked. "Wait—you could've told me that earlier?!"
System:You never asked, Host.
My eye twitched. "You son of a—"
I slapped a hand over my mouth. Don't yell. People are sleeping. Calm. Down.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
"Oh! Right—the skill upgrade card!" Hope reignited in my chest. "System, use it to upgrade my skill!"
System:Skill upgrade cards cannot be used on unique skills.
…
I stared into the void.
"…You son of a—"
A week later…
I hadn't slept much. My nights had been spent draining my mana, whispering incantations in the dark, pushing my limits to feel just a little more ready.
And now, here I stood, on the edge of the dock. The wind sharp with salt and purpose. The sea churned beneath a sky the color of steel.
And there he stood. Stoick the Vast. My father. My mountain.
"You finally arrive," he said, not turning.
"Yes, Father."
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes calm and steady. Measuring me.
"Are you ready?"
I hesitated… thoughts swirling. The weight of duty, the unknown, the pressure to be enough.
Then, I nodded. Just once. Firm.
"Yes."
No more hesitation. No more complaining.
I was Erik of Berk.
And this… was the first step.
We boarded the ship in silence.