Chapter 174: The Start of God’s Conquest

Ivar walked out of the Grand Hall that overlooked Helstia and took a deep inhale of the cold air outside. Helga’s army had already left and whilst he was slightly disappointed that she was no longer in Helstia anymore, he knew that he had more important things to worry about. It looked peaceful in Ivar’s eyes. Those who didn’t go off to fight carried on with their day like normal, and if he focused his senses he could hear the laughter of the town people.

He smiled but seeing five men wearing black cloaks with helmets that covered their faces he knew that he had to work. Walking back in, the last to follow him closed the large double door behind and the once peaceful air of Helstia was now replaced by a tense atmosphere. Ivar didn’t dare sit on Helga’s seat, instead placing himself down on the steps that led up to it.

"Men." A voice full of commanding authority echoed throughout the empty hall. "We have been entrusted with a mission of grave importance to our Lord. One where we can not fail." Those around him nodded with two stroking the axe heads on their belts.

"As you know with our Lord’s departure those traitors will find an opportunity to pounce and seize what they think is theirs. We can not allow this to happen. You five will take 50 men each and spread yourself across our lands at the key towns and villages. Keep the peace and if anyone dares to step out of line, make a most supreme example of them. One that will show the true consequences of their foolish actions."

"Send Ravens back here every two weeks. If they fail to reach me within two consecutive times, I will assume the worst. Are we clear?" The men smiled under their helmets and nodded. "Use every means at your disposal. The Ancient Ones will provide you with wisdom if you require it."

Looking up at the men surrounding him Ivar felt satisfied. "Get your things ready and prepare to leave. I want you posted in your positions within the week." They gave nods leaving Ivar alone.’Everything must be perfect. And when she returns I will provide the greatest gift I can.’

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"Bjorn," Helga called out in a pleading voice as she clutched the dagger close to her heart. "I ask as your sister. Guide me in the wars to come. Let my blade strike true and my soldiers will be unbroken. Sigrid. Let your wings clear a path for your sister’s victory. Dye our journey red with the blood of our enemies and pave the path of our conquest." Helga’s voice echoed as the warriors watched, deep in prayer to the Gods.

She could see in the close distance, the first frontier village she would attack. It was small and not heavily guarded, but it was the battle that would matter most. If she showed an ounce of weakness or struggle here, it would jeopardize the entire war to come. Grabbing the hair of the sacrifice she placed the dagger over his heart.

"I offer the first kill of this war to you, my Brother and Sisters in Uppsala. May his blood be your guiding light." Plugnding the dagger deep into his heart, Helga walked forward, dragging the sacrifice by the hair. Her eyes never left the frontier village, but her smile grew with anticipation for the war. Visions of pillars of smoke rising and bodies of her enemies pilled high, flooded her mind.

With a couple of steps, she reached down to grab the dagger, pulling it down the man’s body, and creating a wound down his entire front. Blood poured as a streak of red created a path in the white snow, it spreading out like a cobweb.

The roar of thousands of warriors called out as they charged the village with crazed looks. Helga dropped the body she was dragging and placed the dagger back in its rightful place. Pulling out her sword, she charged with her people.

A large ram had been created, using a tree that had been cut down at the center of the charge. On its end a metal casting. Helga ran behind it. She watched it ram into the wooden gate that already threatened to buckle under its weight. It was expected. The village wasn’t heavily guarded being a small village. Arrows flew over, but it was such a pitiful amount that no one paid attention to it.

A second crash rang across the plane as the gate creaked under the immense pressure. Those with large axes swung into it weakening its support. Watching with great excitement, Helga saw as the ram pulled back a third time. The gate was unable to withstand the pressure and flew open, showing the prize she had been waiting for.

Not caring for those ahead, she jumped atop the ram and ran across it, jumping through the open gate, a smile so wide on her face that it threatened to split open. The guard was small and jumping in she stabbed her sword down. "KILL THEM ALL!" Helga’s cry was met with a loud roar, comparable to an explosion.

Her warriors charged in and the small defending force faced the pressure of hundreds. She couldn’t peel her focus away having to dodge to the right as a sword flew passed her. It was quick but she was quicker. With a swing of her sword, she cut through the thin armor on the man’s wrist, nearly cutting it off.

The screams and cries of pain became a tune to everyone’s ears as the filth of the battle covered those deep in the melee. Helga’s appearance was covered in mud and blood as she swung her sword once more, blocking an approaching blade.

From her side she heard the crazed high-pitched laugh of Ketil who swung his massive axe down at the attacker, splitting his head. Everyone watched with terror at his appearance as if a giant had come down to earth and been unleashed on them. Yet not one backed down. To die in battle was glory in itself.

Helga watched as the large man, crazed by the bloodshed around him laughed in pure joy as he swung his axe, every one in its path brutally killed. It was a mystical sight and not wishing to be deprived of the battle, followed closely behind his attacks, killing the terrified defenders.

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Atle watched as the onslaught of attackers pierced through the first line of defense and steeled himself to join the glory of Uppsala. He forced himself to suppress his fear of the battle and tightened the grip on his sword.’The Soft Berserker’.He bitterly laughed watching as Ketil charged towards his line with his high-pitched laugh.’What a cruel joke.’

Yet despite the overwhelming behemoth that was charging at him and his fellow warriors, Atle felt his eyes focusing on the blond-haired woman who was covered in blood. Her blue eyes pierced through the carnage and he felt himself unable to peel away.’If I kill her, will they call me God Slayer?’He made himself laugh and charged forward. His fear had been suppressed, only the desire to become a legend remaining.

Helga met his eyes, and her lips curled higher as she met him. With a swing of her sword, he raised his shield to intercept it. Despite being a woman he felt the weight behind her attack, and his knees slightly buckled. But he didn’t waver. Pushing her sword back he stepped forward and stabbed at her.

It was quick, but Helga narrowly avoided it, showing her experience in combat. Atel wasn’t surprised. She had been molded into becoming a Jarl before her sudden claim to divinity and becoming a warrior was the most important part of that. Not taking a moment to rest he carried out his attack, swinging his shield at her. Helga didn’t panic, in fact, Atel saw excitement in her eyes, as she stepped back to let it fly passed.

Her sword was quick, and the attack aimed for his neck nearly got him, creating a shallow wound. He felt the drops of blood flow down, but pushed it aside, only focusing on the threat in front of him. Going for another attack, he lunged forward, aiming for her shoulder. Helga, using the momentum of her attack, slipped under it, a hand letting go of the hilt of her blade and reaching for her back.

In a quick motion, she pulled out the dagger and plunged it deep into his stomach before pulling it out. With a grunt, the air left his body and he clutched the wound. Helga slammed the back of his head, forcing him into the dirt, his head made filthy. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw her run over him, her blonde hair dirtied by the battle being the last sight he saw before the stampede of people crushed him.

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Rolf could see the battle was coming to an end with the bodies of his brothers falling and their voices slowly disappearing. That being said he didn’t back down. He attacked and killed a man before him. It was a shallow victory to kill one when three more appeared.

Nothing he did gave him hope to be able to turn the odds in their favor. He wasn’t like those out of legend nor was he like the Godbound. He could only hope that he didn’t give such a poor display that he would be turned away at the gates of Uppsala.

A large impact from his side threw him to the ground breaking his thought. Looking up at the towering figure over him an impending doom overcame him. Its axe glistened in the sunlight.’Fuc..’He couldn’t even finish the thought as the axe cleaved his skull in two, the opportunity to lift his shield not even given.

Pulling his axe out Ketil looked around for more enemies but saw the battlefield empty as the final defenders were killed. A loud huff escaped his lips as he dropped the blood-soaked axe to his side. Yet his eyes landed on Helga who was walking over to him with a happy smile.

He fell to his knee, the bloodlust he had been feeling quickly leaving. Looking at his display she smiled even more. "You are one of Ivar’s warriors." He nodded and feeling the hand on his shoulder made him shudder. "Look at me." Raising his head he saw the jeweled eyes that cut through the filth on her face. "You will be my personal champion. The Age of the Gods has returned and I require one."

Ketil gulped at those words and steadily rose at her gesture. His breathing was heavy but the pride in his body overwhelmed him. "You honor me, My lord."

Helga nodded. "Do not sully my name." Looking at the remains of the battlefield she looked forward to the future.’Soon, every Jarl and King will be under me.’It was the start, but not once did she entertain the thought of failure.