When Karl woke, the anxiety of preparing to take out the next Blessed Bastard tightened his movements and rustled the squirrel awake. Unfortunately, even though the squirrel had rested, it did not mean he was up to any good—the last of Karl’s skyberry tarts lay in a few remaining crumbs around Ratatoskr’s feet on Karl’s bed.

  Karl didn’t have the strength to complain. At least the squirrel had some good rest.

  “What’s for breakfast?” Ratatoskr asked as Karl dressed in his armor and checked his wealth coming in from his business.

  Wealth (+120): 12,414 Gold.

  “I’m surprised you’re not full,” Karl said, a little grumpy as the Trickster jumped on his shoulder and the two of them entered the Hall of Hof Visbýr. The Trickster was not the only one who was hungry; the ten Jarls were in the large hall being served entrees by Karl’s household slaves. A few of the Jarls even manhandled some of the slave girls, which made Karl’s stomach turn.

  Different time, different values, he reminded himself.

  Thankfully, Sigrid had woken up early with Thorstein and the two of them had whipped up an amazing breakfast: scrambled eggs, rye toast with gooseberry jam, a variety of fruits, some seasoned pork loin, and, of course, coffee.

  Kara was already there next to Glær, Björn, Mýra, and Egil. She sat in the middle of the table where Karl’s spot usually was and waved him over as the other Jarls celebrated his arrival.

  “They didn’t want to go home last night,” she explained. “After Harald’s death, they were concerned they might get murdered on the way back to their towns.”

  “That actually makes things easier,” Karl said, setting his voice to sound confident in front of the other Jarls. One of the slave girls handed him his coffee and eggs; he thanked her awkwardly.

  “Did you think about my proposal?” Karl asked Mýra as he sipped his coffee and felt the caffeine spike into his brain.

  “I think she’ll be more than ready to mess up Viktor’s farms,” Björn said with a dangerous grin, wiping grease from his beard. He seemed eager to get back to killing, which he did best.

  The Huldra nodded, her cow-tail flicking into the light and wrapping around her boyfriend’s shoulder.

  “If this Magnus is as much of a green thumb as you say he is—which I still don’t know what that means,” Mýra said, withdrawing a couple of tonics, each glowing a different shade of black, “then I think this will draw him out. It’ll also help weaken Viktor’s gang, as they won’t be eating anytime soon. I just hope you know⁠—”

  “I know,” Karl said, cutting her off. “You hate the idea of killing plants and animals. I promise it’ll be worth it, though.”

  Mýra rolled her eyes, but Karl caught the slightest smug smile, as if she was pleased to be useful.

  “What about the rest of them?” Thorstein asked, motioning with his claw toward the other Jarls. “Have you decided what their task should be?”

  “I think so,” Karl said before mentally pulling up his Visby overview so he could see the different quests available and how best to delegate them.

  In particular, he looked at his military overview, since the ten Jarls had each given him roughly thirty men, raising his numbers to three hundred—far better than the battered twenty or so he had before.

  Military (Stamina)

  Progression: Train new recruits, forge runed armaments, strengthen command structure.

  Current: Barracks (Capacity 325/50)

  Bonus: Warriors heal 5% faster after battles.

  Debuff: Overcrowded — Too many warriors packed into too few bunks; tempers flare, disease spreads, and training efficiency drops by 25%.

  New Upgrade Path:

  Training Grounds (unlocks Spear Drill, Archery Range)

  Rune-Forged Arsenal (unlocked via Forge Tier +3) — Weapons crafted here gain +10% base damage, +5% durability.

  Having too many warriors was surprisingly a bad thing, at least under the current overcrowded conditions.

  “I had to break up a few fights myself this morning,” Björn said as he guzzled another ale horn. “The men would do well with some more space.”

  Karl nodded in agreement, prompting the System to issue a new quest.

  New Quest: Steel in the Blood

  The barracks roar with hammer strikes and shouted drills. The Dvergr promise weapons fit for Jarls—if you can keep them drunk, paid, and supplied. Try not to let anyone lose a limb. The healers are running out of patience.

  Primary Objectives:

  Expand Barracks Capacity to 100 (0/1 Completed)

  Construct Training Grounds (Spear Drill + Archery Range) (0/2 Completed)

  Forge Rune-Infused Arsenal Components (0/10 Forged)

  Maintain Warrior Casualties: 0/3

  Requirements:

  400 Stone

  250 Wood

  150 Iron

  3,500 Gold

  Rewards:

  Training Grounds Operational — unlocks Spear Drill (+5% Melee Crit) & Archery Range (+5% Bow Accuracy)

  Rune-Forged Arsenal Unlocked — weapons crafted here gain +10% base damage, +5% durability

  Permanent Buff: Warrior Stamina +10% (base; increases with Jarl aid)

  Morale +15 (“Visby marches as one.”)

  Expand Barracks Capacity to 100

  Interestingly, there was a new option this time for how he could complete the quest, now that he had so many Jarls to delegate.

  Jarl Party Assignments: May assign up to 3 Jarl parties to assist in the barracks expansion. Each deployed Jarl dramatically boosts construction efficiency and capacity—but also strains Visby’s resources.

  Training Command: Expands barracks capacity by +100 per Jarl (max 300 total); training speed +10%, casualty rate –5% per Jarl.

  Forge Oversight: Enhances all forged weapons (+5% damage & durability per Jarl, max +10%) but increases Stone, Wood, and Iron cost by +15% per Jarl.

  Logistics: Reduces building time by –10% per Jarl (max –20%) but raises daily food consumption by +5% per Jarl.

  Morale: Boosts Morale +5 and healing rate +5% per Jarl (max +15%), though Ale and Mead costs rise +10% per Jarl.

  Note: Assigning three Jarls can triple barracks capacity to 300, but ongoing upkeep and supply use will surge until additional storehouses are completed.

  Karl sighed with relief, knowing he could solve the housing problem if he delegated the maximum number of Jarls to this quest. It would also greatly increase his warriors’ Stamina, weapon damage, morale, and recovery rate. It would, however, raise the price of mead, which Karl had a feeling would come out of his tavern’s income. Nevertheless, it would be worth it. Karl accepted the quest and assigned three of the ten Jarls to oversee it.

  Because he had assigned three, the building costs went up, as did the gold required, since he lacked all the necessary resources.

  Requirements (Updated):

  580 Stone

  363 Wood

  218 Iron

  5,097 Gold

  Karl felt nauseous thinking about all his money draining away.

  System Message: “Don’t be too sad. Your high honor cut down the cost of supplies by half—you could have been forking out close to 7,000 gold. So don’t forget to be grateful!”

  “So grateful,” Karl muttered under his breath as he accepted the cost, watching his gold whittle away.

  Wealth (–5,097): 7,317 Gold

  “At least it gives us a better chance against Viktor,” Kara said, trying to cheer him up.

  “Let’s hope so,” Ratatoskr said, sneaking a couple of eggs from Mýra’s plate. “Those Thor blessings can be quite the pain in the butt!”

  “I’ll oversee them to make sure none of them get into a squabble,” Thorstein said as he joined them at the table, his fur smelling of grease and butter from working in the kitchen with Sigrid.

  “Thank you,” Karl said, relieved to have the steady Werebear’s presence.

  As he looked at the rest of Visby’s stats, he realized he had seven Jarls left to manage before they went off to take down Magnus. Though the coffee was hitting him now—making him jumpy and anxious—he took a deep breath and selected where each of the Jarls would go.

  He assigned one group to join them in the hunt for Magnus, another two groups to stay in Visby in case Viktor decided to attack, two more on hunting parties to bring in food for the growing town of over six hundred people, and the last two on tracking missions to monitor Viktor’s Blessed Bastards. That way, they could have a steady stream of information on their whereabouts and be ready when it came time for the next strategy.

  Thanks to his work as a military manager, he gained some experience.

  Intelligence (+10): Level 4 (10/50)

  Glory (+20): 1,490

  Level: 32 (290/330)

  After breakfast, Karl and the others set off from Visby with over thirty Vikings accompanying them, thanks to Jarl Einarr—a squat little man with rosy cheeks who seemed to find the Trickster’s gags the funniest thing in the world.

  “I like this one!” Einarr said, slapping his knee after the Trickster caused one of the Jarl’s men to fall into frozen chamber-pot sludge by tying his bootlaces together as they prepared by the gates.

  Glær gave him a dismissive frown as Karl and Kara mounted the white elk.

  “Something for the road,” Sigrid said as she and Thorstein approached the departing party with bundles of food.

  “Thank you,” Karl said, accepting the wrapped goods. He was delighted by their smell. Sigrid handed the same snack to Kara, Björn, Egil, Mýra, and even the Trickster. Though the rolls were wrapped, Karl could see the red icing oozing from the paper. Thanks to his werewolf hunger, he almost devoured one right there.

  Item: Bloodmead Glaze Rolls x2 (Epic) — Restores +50 HP / +40 Stamina. Triggers “War-Frenzy” effect: +15% Damage, +10% Lifesteal for 30 seconds after combat begins. Cooldown: 15 min.

  Thankfully, Karl had room in his Dwarven bag for the rolls, since he had dropped off his Unicorn Marrow Shards in his treasure chest. With all the chaos of being hunted by his bully, he had neglected his growing hoard of legendary supplies. He made a mental note to return to it later to see what he could craft—or perhaps have Knut work with, whom he really hadn’t followed up with.

  It was honestly overwhelming having so many responsibilities. They felt like never-ending fires; the moment he doused one, several more sprang up. Strangely, life as an employee back in the modern world didn’t seem so bad—just clocking in and out without the overwhelming pressures of leadership.

  “You all right?” Kara said, her eyes catching his as she shoved her glazed rolls into Glær’s pouch that hung over the elk’s back.

  “He’s just excited to kill another one of his high school bullies,” the Trickster said, having already devoured his two rolls. He jumped onto Karl’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Vegetarians are often the easiest to take out.”

  “Why is that?” Karl asked.

  “They’re not as strong as carnivores like you guys,” the Trickster said, slapping Karl on the belly. “Or is the correct term cannibal, since you’re technically human?”

  Karl felt nauseous at the thought of eating his high school bully, which was likely to happen if he turned into a werewolf. “I’d rather not think about it,” he said, which only made the Trickster laugh.

  “Let’s get going,” Karl said. “We’ve got some plants to murder.”

  The intelligence they had received from the drunken Jarl—who had refused to side with them during the festival—was that Viktor and his crew, along with the more than three hundred Vikings they had gathered, were residing in the coastal town of Fröjel. Karl was relieved it was at least four hours away by horseback; the distance gave them some breathing room.

  Surrounding the town was a vast collection of fertile farmland under the care of Magnus. Because Viktor had a habit of destroying any town he took over, he and his men were constantly in need of supplies. That need was solved by Magnus’s love for plant life, which he reportedly had a true gift for—one further enhanced by his divine blessings. Magnus was the only one left behind to watch over the vital food source for the Vikings while Viktor and his other Blessed Bastards followed him to Sweden to knock out the next Thor quest, which Karl had just learned was possible.

  “How is that possible?” Karl asked as they passed under a canopy of trees, the hooves of thirty horses crunching through the soft snow behind him.

  “You can technically ride lightning bolts,” Egil said enthusiastically, riding beside Karl and Kara. “Most lightning-blessed warriors have to wait for a storm to seize upon a bolt and ride it into the sky. But if you’re far enough along in your blessings, like Viktor—or if you have an ability or weapon that can call one down—you can summon a lightning bolt without a storm and launch yourself into the sky. I’ve heard it’s quite thrilling.”

  “And that can send you to another part of the world in an instant?” Karl asked, bewildered.

  “Yes,” Egil said, his voice almost reverent. “That’s how the Roman Emperor Maximus was able to conquer America so swiftly. He ferried his hosts back and forth between Rome and America, saving them months of dangerous seafaring. Though it is dangerous, as you risk running into something and killing yourself.”

  Thinking about the Roman Emperor only made Karl more anxious. That Emperor could reportedly see the future—and if he deemed Karl a threat, he could appear before him at any moment to end his life.

  It was best not to dwell on it.

  “That Emperor is why Viktor is so obsessed,” Einarr said as his horse trotted beside them.

  “What do you mean?” Karl asked.

  “He would often lament—usually when he was drunk—about how much he wanted to kill you,” Einarr said.

  “So comforting,” Karl muttered.

  Einarr shrugged as if it were expected. “The reason he wants to max out his blessings before attacking you is because he fears the Roman Emperor might take him out before he’s strong enough to resist. Supposedly, the Emperor is hosting a splendorous set of games with powerful rewards soon and is distracted for the moment. Viktor thinks that if he can max out his blessings now and then kill you, he’ll be able to defend himself against the godlike Emperor.”

  Karl never thought he’d be thanking the Roman Emperor for sparing his life, but here he was. For the briefest moment, he even found himself wishing he could ask the Emperor to deal with Viktor personally. From what he’d heard of the Emperor’s power, he could squash Viktor like an ant—and that would solve all of Karl’s problems instantly.

  “We can take him,” Björn said, sounding completely unbothered as Mýra wrapped her arms around him while they rode.

  Karl gulped and nodded, trying to look confident. That confidence vanished as the first stretch of farmland appeared, and a System message flashed before his eyes, adding a new marker to his internal parchment map.

  Location Discovered: Fröjel

  Karl took a short breath as he looked at the vast, thriving gardens ahead. It was time for vegecide.

  27

  MURDER GARDEN

  Karl almost forgot it was winter when he looked at Magnus’s magically enhanced farm. The soil across the dozens of plots was jet black, and he could feel warmth radiating from it through his werewolf senses. Every snowflake that landed melted instantly. It looked like a patch of spring encircled by frost, while the rest of Gotland lay frozen in winter.

  Most of the crops were lush and green, swaying like waves of gold in the cold wind. The grain stood tall, but in sections that had been recently harvested, new stalks were sprouting at an impossible rate—growing several centimeters per second. There were bushes of bloodberries, plots of cabbage and carrots, and even pens filled with pigs and cattle that buzzed with life.

  Several greenhouses stood on either side of the massive farm before the town walls. Karl could hear laughter and shouts from children running through the fields, playing in the abundance of food. A sharp pang of guilt hit him as he realized they were about to deprive them of it.

  One look at Kara told him she felt the same. Her frown matched the heaviness in his chest, though it didn’t compare to Mýra’s visible fury—the red-haired Huldra’s vein pulsed at her temple.

  “Can we eat any of that before we start committing vegecide?” Ratatoskr asked, crunching on a nut in his paw.

  “We can’t,” Karl said, though he felt bad about it.

  A dozen Vikings patrolled the palisade beyond the farm. The moment they began destroying the fields, Viktor’s men would respond. From their intelligence, they knew they had to destroy the farmlands to draw Magnus out. He was under strict orders not to engage Karl’s group directly, but knowing the old Magnus from their school days—the boy who used to brag about his family’s farm between beating Karl bloody—this would surely make him abandon his orders and attack.

  “We should spread them out,” Björn said, motioning toward the grain houses on either side as they crouched behind the hill overlooking the fields. “Egil can take fifteen men to burn down those on the left, and I’ll take the other half with Jarl Einarr to destroy the ones on the right. That’ll get Magnus’s attention. When you start poisoning the fields in the middle, he’ll go straight for you, while his men deal with the granaries.”