"Rise of the Viking King."

The longships cut through the icy waters, their dragon-headed prows snarling defiantly against the morning mist. The North awaited — a jagged coastline of towering cliffs and dense forests. Dikun Silver stood at the bow, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The weight of Sigvard's command lingered heavily upon him.

To lead the vanguard was no small task. The warriors behind him trusted his resolve, their confidence unwavering. But for Dikun, the test was not only of strength. The hooded man's words haunted him still.

"The road ahead will test more than your sword."

Would his choices lead to victory, or ruin?

---

The Plan Unfolds

At midday, the ships reached a hidden cove nestled between two jagged cliffs. The water was still, save for the rhythmic creak of the longships as they swayed with the tide. From this secluded shore, the village of Norvik was but a half-day's march inland.

Sigvard's warriors gathered, their boots sinking into the damp sand. The Jarl, flanked by Hakon and other trusted warriors, addressed them with the steady authority of a seasoned leader.

"The village is small," Sigvard said, his voice firm. "Their warriors are few, and their walls will crumble like dry timber. We strike fast, we strike without mercy. Before the sun sets, Norvik will know the strength of Hrafnsfjord."

The warriors roared in agreement. But Dikun remained silent. He saw the hunger in their eyes — the same hunger that had burned within him during the last raid. Yet now, the weight of it bore down upon his chest.

"Silver," Sigvard's gaze locked onto him. "You will lead the vanguard. When the gates fall, it will be your name the villagers curse. And your name the gods remember."

Dikun nodded, his jaw set. "It will be done."

---

A Whisper of Doubt

As the campfires crackled under the night sky, Dikun found himself standing alone at the edge of the cove. The distant waves whispered softly, but they brought no comfort.

Footsteps approached.

"You carry the weight of this too heavily," Hakon's voice cut through the stillness. "Victory demands blood. Nothing more."

"And if that blood stains more than my hands?" Dikun asked, his voice low.

Hakon scoffed. "Then you will raise your sword again. That is the way of warriors. Regret is for the weak."

Dikun did not reply. He had no desire to argue. Yet deep within, he could not shake the feeling that regret had already found him.

"The gods will judge us all," Hakon said, clasping Dikun's shoulder. "But until then, we fight."

The words lingered long after Hakon had gone.

---

The March to Norvik

At first light, the warriors set forth. The northern woods loomed around them, the twisted branches clawing at the sky. Dikun led the vanguard, his boots crunching over frost-bitten leaves. Behind him, fifty warriors marched in silence, their breath visible in the crisp air.

The path was narrow, winding through the mist-laden forest. Shadows shifted between the trees, but no threat emerged. Only the distant call of a raven disturbed the quiet.

"Not far now," Hakon growled, his axe resting against his shoulder. "The walls of Norvik will soon be in sight."

Dikun nodded, though his mind remained restless. The closer they drew, the sharper his unease grew. Each step forward felt like a step toward something unseen — a storm yet to break.

---

The Village in Sight

By midday, the trees thinned, revealing the outskirts of Norvik. The village was modest, its wooden palisade barely a barrier to the strength of Sigvard's warriors. Beyond the walls, smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and the distant bleating of goats mingled with the chatter of villagers.

But no guards patrolled the walls. No watchful eyes met the approaching force.

"Strange," Hakon muttered. "They should have seen us by now."

Dikun raised his hand, signaling the warriors to halt. His gaze swept over the village. The air was too still. The distant forest offered no sound. Only the creaking of the wooden palisade echoed in the silence.

"They knew we were coming," Dikun said at last. "This is no simple village. They're prepared."

"Then we give them no time to act," Hakon growled. "We strike now."

But Dikun shook his head. "No. We scout first. There's something here we don't see."

Reluctantly, Hakon relented. A handful of scouts moved swiftly, slipping through the underbrush toward the edge of the village. Minutes passed. Then a shout.

"Clear!"

The gate stood ajar.

---

The Truth Revealed

The warriors entered cautiously, their weapons ready. But Norvik was not as they had expected.

The village was abandoned.

Homes stood empty, their doors swaying in the breeze. Wooden carts lay overturned, their goods scattered and forgotten. Livestock roamed freely, unfettered. Yet no bodies lay in the streets. No signs of battle scarred the walls.

It was as if the village had simply vanished.

"The gods cursed this place," one of the warriors muttered, fear flickering behind his eyes.

Dikun stepped forward, his gaze hardened. He would not yield to superstition. But even as he scanned the empty village, the unease remained.

"Search the homes," he commanded. "Find anything that tells us where they've gone."

The warriors obeyed, their boots echoing through the silence. But the search yielded no answers. Only remnants of lives hastily abandoned.

And then, from the shadows of the largest longhouse, a figure emerged.

An old man, clad in tattered furs. His face was weathered, his eyes sunken. But there was no fear in his gaze. Only resignation.

"You came too late," the old man rasped.

Dikun stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword. "Where are your people?"

"Gone," the man replied. "Taken by the storm that you could not outrun."

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "You think yourselves the wolves. But the true beast has already come."

Dikun's blood ran cold.

"What storm?"

The man's eyes darkened. "The storm of men who bring no banners. Only death."

A silence fell over the village. The warriors shifted uneasily. And in that moment, Dikun knew.

This was not the end of the battle. It was only the beginning.

To Be Continued...