The Voidbreak Crisis: Part 2; The Rise Of Ak-Dovurak.

21. The 13,000 Year War

"You ready for this?" Edus'Thor asked, roughing up Saf'Thor's hair as he took his place next to her among the other contestants.
"I was born ready," Saf'Thor responded, cracking his knuckles. Some giants lived their entire lives for this moment, while some dreamed of it, yet never experienced it. More still told tales of it, and fewer still had ever lived through it. It was the great cleansing, the grand battle, the ultimate test of power and skill; this was the Thirteen Thousand Year War.

Every 13,000 years, all the giants, from all the clans across the face of Theresia, gathered in this massive valley. Thirteen Matriarchs from each clan were chosen to stay back and care for the children of the clan that were too young to participate in the war, and any pregnant giants, while the rest of the clan joined up on the battlefield. At the sound of the horn, it became every giant for themselves, and the valley would be soaked in blood. They would all fight tooth and nail, no holds barred, in a massive free-for-all, until only thirteen giants remained. These giants would go on to rule one of the thirteen clans, and raise the surviving children. The only clan that was exempt from sending all of it's worthy warriors was the Second Clan, the Giant's revered smiths. It was their duty to leave behind thirteen blacksmiths to create weapons out of the blue blood that would soak the ground. The valley had massive channels carved into it's stone floor that would redirect the blood spilled from the battle into the forge in the center of the valley, where the smiths would forge it into weapons of incredible power

"I thought you were going to stay with the children?" Saf'Thor asked as he surveyed the giants all around him, sizing them all up as a grin began to spread across his face. He and his mother stayed back to back, their fists at the ready, their muscles tensed as they waited for the horn.
"I wasn't chosen, which is honestly perfectly fine," Edus'Thor said, and Saf'Thor could hear the grin on her voice. The giants all mixed their clans together hours before the battle began, to ensure an even mix and to keep any one clan from gaining an unfair advantage.

But no clan had ever tried to edge out the others, ever since the 7th clan did that roughly six Wars ago. Once the other clans realized they were working together, all twelve of the other clans joined forces and nearly wiped out the 7th clan, until they learned their lesson.

Since then, only individuals worked together, which seemed to be accepted. Saf'Thor teamed up with his mother, and his brother with his father, and his sister with her husband. During the mixing, he and Edus'Thor had been separated from the rest of his family, and now they were surrounded by unfamiliar faces. But that was just fine, especially for Edus'Thor, because that meant she didn't have to check herself. She could finally go berserk.
"When will the horns sound?" Saf'Thor asked impatiently. He was answered by a deep, rhythmic drumbeat that filled the whole valley, bringing a fire to life in every giant's heart and syncing them all up as the drumbeat intensified.

All of a sudden, the Matriarch's drums stopped, and a sound fit to bring the mountains down filled the valley, the golden notes of thirteen horns all sounding at once, followed by the roars and screams of at least 36 million giants as the war began.

Saf'Thor roared along with his mother as he reached deep into his psyche and flipped a metaphorical switch. The thirteenth clan specialized in this, but all giants possess it. A state of mental clarity, in which all emotion, save bloodlust, is stripped away. A kind of battle trance, where the only focus, the only goal in mind, is to kill everything you see until the only thing left breathing is you.

As the Matriarch's Drums resumed, the valley was suddenly covered in a blue mist as blood filled the air, and screams of rage and pain filled the air in between drum beats. Saf'Thor fought in a blind rage, with his bare fists instead of his magic, beating his opponents to death with his knuckles, elbows, kneecaps and sometimes his forehead. While in a berserk state, magic didn't function quite the same. It became more retaliatory than directed. A giant approached from Saf'Thor's left at breakneck speeds as Saf'Thor blocked a kick from the giant in front of him with his knee. He kicked his leg out, slamming his heel into the giant's groin as he felt something burst under his foot, and used the momentum to push himself backwards.