There is something particularly unsettling about the idea of a blood oath. Not because blood is necessarily synonymous with violence, but because it transforms a promise into something almost irreversible. A word ceases to be merely a word when there is a price attached to it. It is precisely this image that seems to linger over Blood Oath, the new album from Norwegian metal project Kallevik, created by Sergey Kallevik in 2025.
Based in Haugesund, Sergey presents himself as the force behind Kallevik, a project that began to take shape when he brought in Thomas Torgersen and WC, a musician who chooses to remain anonymous and contributes synthesizer work. What began as an individual endeavor eventually developed into a three-piece project, with Thomas handling the main vocals while Sergey also contributes vocals on several tracks. Completing the album’s sonic architecture, Marcin Kotarabiński handles drums and mixing, while Maciej Dawidek is responsible for mastering. The record also features guest vocals from Fritz Emil Apeland and Dawid Zakrzewski, while the cover artwork itself was created by Sergey.
The album is set for release on Spotify on August 30, 2026, bringing together ten tracks that move through different atmospheres and territories within metal. But there is a much deeper story behind Blood Oath than its lineup and credits alone could reveal.
Much of the instrumental material was written between late 2025 and 2026, during a period deeply marked by grief, loss, survival, and the struggle to keep moving forward. Sergey himself explains that this experience inevitably left its mark on the album’s atmosphere and expression.
That does not turn Blood Oath into an album exclusively about death. And perhaps that distinction is important. What exists here is not necessarily a literal narrative about loss, but the imprint of an experience that became part of the creative process. There is a difference between writing about grief and creating while living through it.
And perhaps that is one of the reasons why the weight of Blood Oath seems to reach beyond distortion, speed, and sheer aggression.
Before we even reach the opening track, there is a journey that helps put Sergey into perspective as a musician. His experience stretches across different territories of the Haugesund scene, from heavy metal and solo work to death metal through Devour, the project he founded alongside Fritz Emil Apeland. Kallevik, however, does not simply emerge as an extension of those previous experiences. It becomes something else: a space where different parts of that journey can coexist beneath an entirely new identity.
And perhaps that freedom is precisely what makes Kallevik so compelling.
Rather than treating the past as a mandatory blueprint, Sergey appears to use it as raw material. Blood Oath does not need to erase what came before in order to establish its own territory; it simply chooses to move in another direction.
Interestingly, the only composition on the album that was not written during this more recent period is “Insens”. Sergey wrote the track when he was approximately fourteen to sixteen years old, decades before Kallevik even existed. The fact that a composition created during his adolescence survived the passing years and ultimately found its place on his first album with the project adds a particularly fascinating dimension to the record. It is almost as if a much older part of Sergey had traveled through time to find its place in an entirely different chapter of his life.
And so “Evocatio Mortuorum” opens the album.
The title immediately places us in ritualistic territory. The evocation of the dead carries with it the sensation of a summoning, as though the album begins not with an introduction, but with the opening of a threshold. The past is called back, and whatever had been buried is no longer willing to remain silent.
The introduction announces the album’s arrival like a genuine funeral procession, with powerful acoustic guitars intertwined with the pounding of the drums, carrying that summons forward. There is solemnity in these opening moments, but it never becomes contemplation. It feels more like the instant before a door is opened.
And when that door swings open, “Gorgon Sisters” leaves no room for hesitation.
The Gorgons carry one of the most recognizable images in Greek mythology, yet their presence here feels less like decorative mythology and more like part of an atmosphere where beauty, monstrosity, and power coexist. There is something fascinating about the way mythological figures continue to find a home within extreme music, precisely because their symbols remain recognizable even after so many centuries.
The guitars tear through the atmosphere, and then the drums and bass begin to trace every note with relentless consistency, driving through the track like an unstoppable steam engine. The vocals are as volatile as the moments of lead work, while the riffs pulverize whatever traces of initial calm may have remained.
There is no hesitation.
The track moves as though it has found only one possible direction and simply refuses to look back.
“The Eagle” shifts the perspective once again. The image of the eagle carries associations of strength, dominance, freedom, and a vision seen from above. After walking among the dead and the mythological creatures, the album seems to gain altitude, as though for a moment we are allowed to observe everything from a greater distance.
Yet it is precisely here that the boundaries between different branches of metal seem to become less rigid. Heavy genres collide and merge, setting the tone for which Norwegian blackened metal remains one of the most fertile territories for aggressive atmosphere.
Fast, fierce, and relentless, “The Eagle” turns speed into a narrative device. The unison vocals add grandeur, while the entire instrumental seems to spin furiously around them.
But the distance does not last long.
“World Contamination” brings our gaze back to the world we know. The title itself partially leaves the realm of mythology to touch upon something much closer and, perhaps for that reason, more unsettling. Contamination is no longer a threat belonging to some distant past or a legendary creature.
It belongs to our own time.
The imagery of Blood Oath begins to move beyond the purely fantastical and takes on an almost apocalyptic dimension. The density remains voracious, yet moments of atmosphere emerge as bridges within the composition, allowing the music to breathe before launching another assault.
Marcin sounds abyssal here, while the guitars and vocals catapult the sound to an even higher level. The drums sustain the weight without allowing it to become static, resulting in a composition that constantly feels as though it is about to exceed its own limits. Because monsters are easy to recognize when they have a face, a name, and an origin. Far more difficult is recognizing what contaminates us when the threat has already become part of the world we inhabit.
“Insens” shifts the perspective once again.
Knowing that this is the only composition on the album written decades before its existence inevitably changes the way it is heard. The song was born when Sergey was still a teenager and remained with him until finding its place on Blood Oath. There is no need to assign it a meaning the composer himself has not declared in order to recognize the uniqueness of that journey.
There is something almost ghostly about the idea of a composition crossing so many years only to finally find its moment.
Musically, the harsh vocals ignite the instrumental, which develops with remarkable precision. The aggression remains, but there is movement within it, and the track demonstrates that intensity does not have to mean repetition.
We then continue through the album with “Rat King”, whose very image provokes discomfort and evokes something seemingly caught between the natural and the aberrant. After the dead, mythological creatures, symbols of power, and a contaminated world, the choice of this title feels entirely consistent with the universe Blood Oath has been constructing.
But the feeling that the album intends to leave the listener little to no room to breathe becomes even more apparent from here onward.
“Arsonist” builds steadily, shifting between a magnetic opening and insane riffs that seem to set every passage ablaze. The gutturals gain power and magnetism, accompanied by acceleration and a singular fervor that makes the track one of the album’s most intense experiences so far.
Metalcore remains as present as blood coursing through the veins of these fervent musicians. There is something almost organic in the way the instruments move forward, and the track finds a compelling balance between weight, speed, and progressive development that makes it, so far, one of the album’s finest moments.
But Blood Oath seems determined to steal every last second of breathing room from the listener, and “False Son” will show no mercy.
The sense of urgency remains, but the composition demonstrates that aggression does not have to mean a lack of craftsmanship. There is a masterful interplay between guitars, bass, and drums, allowing the weight to be carried by a constant interaction between the instruments.
And it is precisely this interaction that becomes increasingly apparent as we move forward.
There is truly masterful work between guitars, bass, and drums throughout this album, and if there is still any doubt, simply fire up “The Dancing Plague”. The track understands perfectly the relationship between brutality and movement, opening itself up until even the vocals feel like an invitation to the mosh pit.
It is difficult to remain completely still in front of a song that seems built to turn heaviness into physical movement.
And then we arrive at “Shadows”.
The album finds a particularly interesting way to conclude its journey.
After moving through different levels of aggression, Blood Oath closes with subtlety — but do not mistake subtlety for fragility. Brutal heavy metal confronts death metal in a destructive final passage, creating an ending that seems to bring together the different faces of the identity Kallevik has built throughout the record.
There is something circular about this conclusion.
The album began by summoning what had been buried, and ends by leaving shadows behind.
And perhaps that is where Blood Oath finds one of its greatest strengths.
The album does not seem to need a literal narrative in order to create a sense of unity. Its imagery functions as fragments of the same universe, connected by an atmosphere that remains even as the themes shift. There is an evident concern with what symbols can evoke, but also with what they can represent when removed from their original contexts.
Throughout this journey, the vocals naturally assume particular importance. Thomas Torgersen provides the main vocals, while Sergey also contributes vocals on several tracks. The album further features contributions from Fritz Emil Apeland and Dawid Zakrzewski, expanding its vocal dimension without taking away from Kallevik‘s fundamentally personal character.
WC, while maintaining anonymity, adds synthesizers to the album’s sonic architecture, while Marcin Kotarabiński not only handles drums but also mixing. Maciej Dawidek completes the process with mastering.
And there is something particularly interesting about this configuration.
Kallevik began as Sergey’s idea, but it did not remain an entirely solitary work. By bringing Thomas and WC into the project, he allowed it to naturally evolve into a three-piece without relinquishing its central identity.
That combination seems to reflect the very essence of Blood Oath: a deeply personal work that nevertheless found strength through collaboration.
Perhaps that is precisely why the name Kallevik works so well.
Not as a simple continuation of any of Sergey’s previous experiences, but as a point where different paths can finally coexist without one needing to dominate the other.
Even the cover follows this same logic. Created by Sergey himself, it adds a visual extension to the album that is inseparable from its musical creation. The same artist responsible for much of the music also created the image through which it is introduced to the world.
Blood Oath seems to look backward, but it does not live in the past. It draws upon ancient symbols, mythological imagery, and concepts associated with death and ritual, yet places them against questions that remain deeply present. The contamination of the world, violence, decay, fear, and our relationship with what we cannot control remain thoroughly modern concerns, even when dressed in images that could have emerged from some forgotten legend.
There are experiences that permanently change the way we see the world. In Blood Oath, Sergey transforms part of a period of grief, survival, and rebuilding into artistic expression, without allowing pain to become the only lens through which his music can be understood.
The music remains at the center.
And perhaps that is precisely what matters most.
Because some works are born from the need to say what words cannot reach. Others are born from the need to simply keep creating when continuing feels difficult.
Blood Oath seems to carry a little of both.
Sergey Kallevik has found here a way to bring together experiences, influences, and different paths traveled throughout his musical journey under an identity that, despite being young, already demonstrates a character of its own.
Here, then, is a project that strikes with force, ready to come alive.
Blood Oath is not merely the introduction of a new formation. It is the materialization of a creative process that has passed through different moments, different experiences, and different versions of its own creator.
In that sense, it is less a conclusion than a statement.
A signature.
A step forward.
And when the final notes of “Shadows” disappear, perhaps what remains is precisely the feeling a good oath should leave behind: that some things, once spoken, cannot simply be undone.
The blood dries.
The wound heals.
But some promises remain.
And there is something else that remains with me after this listening experience. I rarely keep albums in my personal listening rotation for very long after completing a review; usually, once the work is done, I move on to the next one. Blood Oath, however, is one of those exceptions that seems to ask for more than a single listen. This is undoubtedly an album I will keep returning to, not only because of the strength it demonstrates across all ten tracks, but because of the identity Kallevik has already managed to establish with its first release.
Now all that remains is to hope that this oath will soon take physical form as well. Because Blood Oath deserves to leave the screens, digital files, and headphones behind and occupy a real place among those albums we choose to keep.
I sincerely hope to see it receive a physical release very soon.
RATE: 10/10
TRACK LISTING
1 – Evocatio Mortuorum
2 – Gorgon Sisters
3 – The Eagle
4 – World Contamination
5 – Insens
6 – Rat King
7 – Arsonist
8 – False Son
9 – The Dancing Plague
10 – Shadows
LINE- UP
Music by Sergey Kallevik
Vocals – Thomas Torgersen/Fritz Emil Apeland/Sergey Kallevik and David Zakrzewski
Drums – Marcin Kotarabinski
Mixed by Marcin Kotarabinski
Mastered by Maciej Dawidek
Graphics by Sergey Kallevik
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