"Step forward, Brakthar. The Drowning now belongs to you," Galthor said in a firm voice.

Brakthar's eyes widened and he gasped. "What?"

Indeed, of all the masters, Brakthar could be called the most average of them all. His skills were average, and he didn't have any defining qualities that set him apart.

He was made Galthor's personal guard to keep the chief's youngest out of trouble.

He looked at his chief hesitantly. "Are you sure? I can really take this?"

Galthor smiled. "Of course. Of all the masters here, you remained the most loyal even when I was wayward. Although most of it was because my father told you to do it, you still did not turn against me. You cannot say the same for someone like Skolvar."

The other masters shifted briefly because they too had turned their backs on Stronghide.

Galthor's eyes turned hard and dark. "Only Karathra and Brakthar are firmly within my grace. The rest of you will have to earn your way back."

They should know that they would not be easily forgiven just because they had decided to return.

"And Karathra will get the next relic. We need one that will suit her well."

Karathra nodded. As much as she wanted the relic, she had to hold herself back and remind herself that she did not need a relic like that. But the fact that they had even seen a relic at all made her blood boil with anticipation.

She couldn't put her hands on what she was pointing at exactly, but she was looking forward to the future. Barbarians are slaves... but what happens when they are not? What happens when they have a god?

With a deep breath, she smiled at Brakthar. "You deserve this. You have always been looking after our chief. The Apostle of Unchanging Wrath."

Brakthar's eyes widened as if he was just realizing the significance of his duty all those years ago when he thought it a waste to be guarding a stray like Galthor.

He slowly went to his knees as he took the relic. "I will serve you with my life, Galthor Stronghide, Chief of the Stronghide and the Apostle of Unchanging Wrath."

Galthor snorted and laughed. "You fool. Before our god, your life is just as important as the oldest barbarian in our tribe. We all have our uses."

Karathra stepped forward. "Forgive me, Chief, but some of us are more important than the others. You are far more important than any barbarian alive. You are the miracle that the god gave to us, and it will always remain as such.

No matter what you say... or the god. You are important, and we will always protect you as such!"

The other barbarians formed fists with their right hands and slammed their chests hard, creating a sound like a drum. It was as if they had practiced it, but it was just what they all wanted to do at the moment.

Galthor studied them. '...Is this the stubbornness of the barbarian that was talked about so much?...'

But he didn't dismiss their words. If there were elders or a council in the Stronghide, then his masters held the highest positions, and their words couldn't be easily overturned.

"Very well. Do as you wish. Just don't let it conflict with your existing orders."

After that was taken care of, Brakthar made the relic his own by using his blood to bind with it. And then they began to learn what the Exalted-ranked relic could really do.

It could do a lot.

For starters, the pocket world was an actual pocket world that was cut apart by some kind of spatial powers. There was no land in it as it contained a deep sea, but that didn't really matter.

Apart from the combat powers of shaping the water to attack and freezing opponents, Galthor quickly thought of another way they could use The Drowning.

As a storage space.

Already they had dragged large timbers into the space and realized that it could probably take as many things as the surface of the sea itself.

And from the looks of it, Galthor estimated it to be as big as three standard football fields.

"We'll need to build ships and some station outpost here in the pocket world that we can use as our personal and secret vault. It will also contain most of our resources going forward, especially the money we make."

With just a few words and a relic, Galthor had elevated Brakthar within the Stronghide tribe. He would be the man in control of their resources.

It was even better that Brakthar could divide the sea with his new powers in the pocket world—one part for fighting and the other for dealing with the tribe's business.

But it also came with disadvantages.

One, they could only draw people into the pocket if they were in water, although Brakthar himself could enter whether he was in water or not. It would make it very difficult to use in battle.

Another thing was the fact that when used, the relic would disappear into the pocket world with the owner, but at the same time, it would still exist in the same location it was used.

Also, to bring anything out, Brakthar still needed to be in water.

But all of that was balanced by its advantages. Apart from the storage compartment it could double as, the seawater manipulation was absolutely terrifying.

In the pocket world, Brakthar was almost like a god. He could lower the temperature of the sea to freeze anything in it, and he could even create different shapes of water creatures and basically do anything he wanted with the seawater.

That fact alone made Galthor question the true rank of the relic. Was it really an Exalted? Were they supposed to be that strong? Because as long as Brakthar could stay creative, even Galthor would find it very hard to deal with him.

Maybe even impossible, as Galthor had already begun to teach him how to make water bullets and huge water constructs that could fire those guns.

As much as one stepped into the pocket world, they would not have an easy time.

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