Signe’s reflection gleamed cold in the little mirror she refused to lower. “I bet he killed Agnetha,” she said, voice flat, as if mourning were beneath her. It wasn’t grief but… irritation. Another pretty thing gone that had once admired her.

  The sound of humming stopped. Snösikte’s lullaby hung in the air, soft and broken. His hand already gripped a frost-tipped arrow, his glare cutting through the snow. “Did you kill her?” His voice trembled with fury. The Bifrost shield shimmered between them.

  Karl’s words failed. Standing before these faces again shrank him to the boy he used to be. His voice came out small. “P-please… leave this town alone.”

  Viktor laughed. His gang followed suit. Only Snösikte didn’t join in. His eyes burned hotter, wounded by confirmation. Agnetha’s death had meant something to him.

  Björn shifted beside Karl, grip tightening on his weapon. “Let’s end them,” he muttered, excitement bright in his voice. Karl had resented Björn’s independence lately, but now that wild confidence felt like the only solid ground left.

  Glær snorted and stepped forward, ready to defend Kara.

  Håkan whistled as his lips stretched into a wicked grin. “A glowing elk. That’ll make a fine pelt.”

  Viktor lifted his warhammer. “I’d tell you to run,” he said, smiling, “but I could crush you before you took a step. Then I’d take your little werewolf for my harem.”

  Karl’s pulse thudded hard. His mind flooded with the image of Kara tearing Viktor’s face apart, her jaws slick with his blood. The Pack Link burned between them, her anger surging through his veins.

  The thought startled him. Control yourself, he told her silently.

  Thunder rolled as Viktor began to summon his power. The scent of ozone filled Karl’s lungs as lightning stitched together in the dark clouds above. Kara’s voice came low and steady. “If he lands one hit, we’re dead.”

  But Harald stepped forward, grinning widely. “Don’t let the pagan be so confident,” he said, slapping the glowing Bluetooth rune on his arm.

  A blue pulse exploded from him.

  System Message: “Divine blessings and powers nullified by Harald Bluetooth.”

  The incoming lightning bolt evaporated midair, its charge dissolving into mist. The signal wave expanded outward, washing over both groups. When it struck the Bifrost shield, the wall fractured, light spilling away into the snow.

  Their protection vanished.

  The shock hit Karl like a physical blow. Strength drained from his limbs as his divine power blinked out. But it wasn’t just his Ullr blessings that nullified; his werewolf form ceased. The cold bit deep, and his knees gave out beneath him. Kara fell beside him, her body convulsing as the transformation reversed.

  Moonlight Meter: 0/100

  They landed hard in the snow, human again, skin burning with the cold. The silence that followed broke with laughter.

  “Always knew he was small,” Signe said, snapping her mirror shut.

  Karl stumbled upright, clutching his privates as his face burned with humiliation. Around them, Viktor’s gang hooted and jeered. Their cruel words blurred together. Kara’s body shimmered in the firelight as she jumped to her feet, and their mocking turned to hunger. Viktor said nothing. His eyes lingered on her with that same quiet possession that made Karl’s stomach twist.

  Kara’s lips curled. “I’ll have you sacrificed,” she said through her teeth.

  Viktor’s grin widened. “Good. I like it when they fight back.”

  He tilted his head toward his men to give the cue to kill them.

  Harald’s hunters and Viktor’s raiders crashed together a second later. Viktor barked for his “pack” to stay tight, then forced a path through his own men. His warhammer rose and fell, cracking helms and skulls with sickening thuds as he drove straight for Karl, who stumbled back behind Harald’s men.

  Locate and save Harald Bluetooth’s hunting band 15/20.

  Snösikte vaulted a cottage whose roof hadn’t caught fire yet. He planted on the ridge and began loosing frost-tipped arrows with cruel speed. One hissed past Karl’s neck, scraping his skin. He staggered back, cursing, while Harald, Björn, and Mýra surged forward to meet the push, happy to trade blows and shove the raiders off balance.

  Slay the Unknown Marauders 6/25

  Armor whispered back onto Karl’s body, along with Kara’s. The Hököga Bow formed in his hand with a faint sting that steadied his thoughts. Fighting as a human again left him disoriented; his body still reached for a strength that wasn’t there.

  An arrow angled for his throat, but a nut flicked from Ratatoskr’s tiny paw, knocking it wide with a sharp tick. The shot buried in the snow at Karl’s feet.

  “Thanks,” Karl breathed, drawing and releasing in one motion. His arrow struck Snösikte’s knee. The pale archer cried out, slipped on ice, and dropped behind the roofline.

  Kara’s mail finished knitting over her shoulders. She screamed from deep in her chest and sprinted. Her blade burned as she triggered Valkyrie Leap, carrying her up and over clashing lines. She came down hard on Viktor, steel carving a bright gash through his lamellar before releasing a blast of light from her palm where she cut. He stumbled back and snarled before backhanding her away.

  Glær thundered through the melee, crushing a raider underhoof. His antlers caught two more and hurled them aside.

  “Kara!” Karl shouted. Panic tightened around his thoughts as he watched Viktor recover and press in. The rest of Viktor’s crew hammered at Harald’s shield wall while Björn laughed into their faces, axe rising and falling in a brutal rhythm.

  Without Ullr’s speed, Karl felt slow. The runes on his armor still glowed, though. He dragged a vial from his belt and bit the seal.

  Item: Moon-Gilded Hoof (Rare) — Increases Jump Height by 5x and allows for double jump.

  He sprinted three strides and sprang. The boost carried him over a knot of raiders. He loosed midair and punched an arrow through a screaming face. He landed hard, rolled through slush, and came up running toward Harald’s line.

  Strength (+10): lvl 11 (30/120)

  Glory (+20): 1,060

  Level: 30 (100/310)

  A green glow swept across his path. Magnus cut in with his plow-hammer. The head whooshed within a handspan of Karl’s nose.

  “I’m sorry,” Magnus said, voice raw, swinging again. “I’m sorry.” The hammer blurred. He meant it and still tried to break Karl in half.

  Karl ducked, his boot slipping, and he threw himself sideways to keep moving toward Kara. Viktor had her by the throat now, one hand locked tight, lifting her off the ground. Her heels dug furrows as she kicked and clawed at his wrist, which blasted off Baldr light again, nearly clipping the bully.

  Glær slammed into Viktor, ripping Kara free and sending both tumbling. Viktor rolled and came up with the hammer, lips peeled back.

  Karl sprinted the last steps—until Sten slid between them and swung his sword at him. Steel kissed Karl’s ribs, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. His breath rushed out as he spun away to keep the next cut off-line.

  Health: 100/130

  He didn’t have time to think. Ratatoskr bailed from his shoulder and launched straight at Sten’s face with his claws.

  “You need a facelift!” the squirrel shrieked before mincing him.

  Sten cursed and swatted, blinded by the squirrel’s fury.

  Karl drew and released. The arrow cut low, striking Viktor’s forearm instead of his skull-helmet. Lightning flared along the hammer haft as Viktor snarled and dropped Kara.

  Hands shaking, Karl pushed forward through churning bodies. Viktor’s men crowded in around him, shields bumping his bowstring and trying to box him away from her.

  A shout cracked behind him. Harald’s voice broke, raw with pain. Karl pivoted in time to see Nils and Håkan slide in on either side of Harald while Signe darted close, knives rising and falling. Mýra’s vines snapped up from the slush, which coiled their ankles, but two blades still found purchase.

  System Message: “Bluetooth signal dropped. Divine blessings and abilities restored.”

  Power shivered through Karl’s bones as it returned to him. Ullr’s speed surged back, which would have been cause for joy, until Karl saw that Viktor’s strength returned, too. The raiders howled as their gifts flooded home.

  A hiss came from the rooftop. Snösikte’s ice arrow lanced down and punched through Karl’s left arm. The impact spun him, bowstring slewing from his fingers.

  Health: 80/130

  He reached to activate his werewolf form but found only silence. The System chimed coldly in his ear.

  System Message: “Moonlight meter cooling. Full Moon buff deactivated.”

  Dawn bled at the sea’s edge, preventing him from staying as a werewolf.

  “Time to die, little bug,” Viktor called, raising the hammer to the storm. The sky answered. Lightning slammed down, filling Karl’s vision with white, the sound boiling into a single, tearing crack. The bolt hit him square in the chest, lifting him from the ground.

  System Message: “Tattoo Applied — Mark of Sæhrímnir.”

  Health: 32.5/130

  He burst back to life in a greasy explosion of bacon. The shockwave tossed two raiders who had been closing for the kill. Pain screamed along every nerve, but his breath returned.

  Slay the Unknown Marauders 12/25

  Locate and save Harald Bluetooth’s hunting band 5/20

  Through the Pack Link, Karl forced the thought into Kara. We need to retreat.

  Her answer hit back sharply with frustration. She pushed to her feet anyway, blade scorching the air as she staggered toward Viktor.

  No—we’re so close, she thought back. The strangling had gutted her Health, and Karl could feel the emptiness through the link. Viktor steadied his stance, lightning wreathing the hammer head again as he prepared to end her life.

  “Stop!” Karl’s voice cracked across the snow as he let the Alpha weight ride his words.

  She froze, trembling as she tried to resist, her eyes locked on Viktor. A moment later, the world proved him right: Viktor flashed forward in a lightning dash that chewed a path through the slush. The hammer lifted for the finishing blow, the gathering storm ready to drop into a ground-smash that would cook her where she stood.

  Karl moved. Ullr’s gift carried him while desperation added the rest. He slid past a fallen shield, grabbed Kara’s arm, and pulled Glær’s antlers with his free hand while activating Urðr’s Vision.

  Snow hung mid-flight, confirming that time had stopped. Viktor’s grin held in place, thankfully.

  Karl’s lungs burned. Every muscle screamed that he’d pushed too far, as his Stamina would be gone once time returned. He dug through his pouch and jammed a Níðmar Risotto into his mouth. The taste was earthy, like wet moss cooked in metal. His jaw ached as he chewed.

  Item: Níðmar Risotto (Rare) — Restores +40 HP / +30 Stamina. Grants +30% Poison Resist, +15% Magic Resist for 20 min.

  Warmth spread through his chest, steadying his vision just enough to keep the world from collapsing in on itself. Without it, he’d have dropped where he stood. His Stamina bar hovered near empty thanks to the price of freezing time.

  He wanted to end it—to draw his bow and put an arrow through Viktor’s heart. Every nerve screamed for it. But the man stood in the middle of the field, shining with divine electricity. Karl could feel the static even from here. His gut told him the truth: no arrow would pierce that armor.

  And Snösikte still fired from the rooftops. Frost-lit arrows cut the air, each one charged with power that could freeze a man solid. If Karl tried to strike now, either he or Kara—or both—would die.

  His hands trembled. The same fear that had haunted him since childhood crept up again, the paralysis that always came when Viktor smiled. His mind spun, counting his options, though none of them were good.

  “Think,” he hissed. Fenrir said nothing this time.

  He clenched his jaw, cursed himself, and made the only call left.

  Karl grabbed Glær by the antlers and Kara by the wrist. Snow crunched underfoot as he pulled them toward cover. In his free hand, he scooped a snowball and hurled it across the battlefield to Elf Leap.

  When the frozen moment unraveled, the snowball detonated into powder at the far end of the field where they teleported. Viktor’s gaze snapped toward it. Arrows meant for their skulls shot harmlessly past, biting into the dirt where they’d stood.

  Karl didn’t wait to savor it. He hauled Kara and the elk back toward the others—Björn, Mýra, Harald, and Ratatoskr—who were bloodied and losing ground fast.

  “Hold on to me!” he shouted.

  There was no hesitation. Harald’s band pressed in close. Björn gripped his shoulder, Mýra clung to Glær’s flank, and Ratatoskr wrapped himself around Karl’s collar.

  Karl turned once. Viktor stood amid the storm, unflinching, a cruel smile etched into his face.

  Cowardice. The word stabbed through his thoughts. He could almost hear Viktor’s voice in his head,

  Karl pressed his palm to the Rune of Overpressure Leap Mk II he summoned.

  Steam hissed from the rune as heat flooded his limbs. A burst of light surrounded them. Then the world tilted. Fire roared beneath his feet, and the ground vanished.

  They rocketed slightly skyward through, the shockwave kicking a gust of snow into the wind. The burning village shrank behind them. Viktor’s figure blurred, but Karl still saw that smile—satisfied, knowing this wasn’t the end.

  Glory (-200): 860

  The blast carried them eighty meters across the valley before gravity caught up. The group crashed into a snowbank, skidding through the frost. Karl rolled to his knees, gasping, smoke curling from his feet.

  “That was close,” Ratatoskr said, laughing as he lay in the snow to create snowangels.

  18

  SLAY THE BLESSED BASTARDS

  Everything in Karl’s body screamed with pain and exhaustion. Despite this, he felt the primal urge to keep running like a coward. Behind them, lightning split the gray sky where Viktor and his gang hunted through the wreck of Klintehamn. The ground trembled with every distant blast. They were barely eighty meters ahead, and Karl’s only thought was to run.

  Just like old times, Fenrir growled inside his head, voice rough as gravel. I was so close. The boy should’ve finished the job and put you down properly.

  Karl stumbled through drifts, the words needling his mind. Steam still rose from his feet. Björn jogged up beside him, eyes wide.

  “Is that a new rune?”

  “From the dungeon we raided,” Karl said between breaths, helping Kara to her feet without thinking. His fingers shook as he looked at her: her armor was dented, the smell of burnt leather still rising from her shoulder plates. She almost died.

  “Too bad it didn’t help you kill him,” Ratatoskr chirped, hopping from the snow onto Karl’s shoulder. The squirrel’s fur was singed at the tips, though he was still cheery. “All that drama and no revenge arc? Tragic.”

  “Apologies, my Jarl,” Harald Bluetooth said, his face hollow as he clasped Karl’s arm. “I didn’t want to see any more of my men die.” The old warrior’s eyes were gone.

  “It’s all right,” Karl stammered, his throat raw as he spoke. He opened his mouth to order a retreat back to Visby—but the System struck first.

  Quest Failed: Burn the Bastards

  “Well, that went about as well as a torch in a mead cellar. Klintehamn is ash, Harald’s men are kebabed, and you just got hammered by your high-school bully with divine lightning. The System recommends not dying again today, but hey—you do you, champ.”

  Settlement Impact:

  Morale –20 (Rumors of “Karla the Cautious”)

  The message burned across his sight. It was too much. His knees buckled, breath rasping in his throat. Every part of him longed to vanish into his beast mode again, to let the wolf take control and flee this utter shame.

  But a steady hand caught his—Kara’s. Her left gauntlet pressed into his palm, anchoring him.

  “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go home.”

  Her eyes met his through the snow-choked light, understanding without words. Karl nodded, the weight of her grip steadying him.

  A warmth bloomed through his chest.

  Fight side by side in 10 battles. Progress: 3/8

  Glær knelt in the snow to let Kara climb onto his back, then nudged Karl forward until Ratatoskr scrambled aboard again. Björn, Mýra, Harald, and Egil fell into step behind them, weapons sheathed, the silence of defeat hanging heavy over all. They moved as ghosts through the frozen hills of Gotland.

  The only sound was the creak of leather and the soft crunch of snow. Karl’s hands trembled as he held Kara’s waist, the heat of her body bleeding through cold armor. He tried not to think of Viktor—of the smug grin. He tried not to think of the way dying had felt.

  Ratatoskr’s voice broke the silence. The squirrel’s tone was uncharacteristically soft.

  “How are you holding up, Karl?”

  “I’m… okay,” Karl said, though his voice cracked on the word.

  “Good. I believe in your murdering skills.” The squirrel flashed a toothy grin, trying to lighten the air. Then, like a drunk with ADHD, he bounded off Karl’s shoulder onto Mýra’s, nearly toppling her. She smacked him away with her tail, muttering a curse.

  Mýra lingered beside Karl a moment longer as they rode. Her red hair burned against the snowlight, her cow-tail flicking idly. Without a word, she slipped something into his hand—a dark purple potion in a glass vial.