Tadabaka was out in the woods, hacking at trees with his axes under the moonlit night, the thwack of steel on wood echoing through the dark. Suddenly, a loud snap of branches cracked behind him. He spun, tense as hell, gripping his axes, but shrugged it off—probably a damn boar—and kept swinging. Then it came again, louder, closer. "Who’s there?" he bellowed, his voice sharp, cutting through the rustling leaves. Out of the shadows stepped a figure—white hair gleaming, red eyes burning. Yeah, it was me, Asvald, the bck dye washed out, my real self bared. Tadabaka’s eyes narrowed, recognizing me anyway. "Skarnulf?" he growled, but I cut him off, smirking. "Nah, kid. I’m Asvald Ragnarsson, King of Ve?y, Leader of the Bck Sea Cn." His hands tightened on his sword, yanking it free, dropping into a fighter’s stance. I unsheathed mine, matching him, my bde glinting as we squared off.

  He lunged first, fluid as fuck—like a seasoned warrior, not some half-breed punk. His sword sshed high, a clean arc aiming for my neck. I parried, steel screeching against steel, sparks flying as I shoved back, swinging low for his legs. He danced aside, quick and smooth, countering with a thrust at my chest. I twisted, the bde grazing my ribs, blood trickling warm down my side, and roared, hacking at his shoulder. He blocked with his sword, the csh ringing out, then spun, sshing at my gut. I jumped back, the tip nicking my tunic, and charged, smming my sword down. He rolled, dirt kicking up, and sprang up behind me, swinging for my spine. I ducked, the wind of it brushing my hair, and elbowed him hard in the ribs, hearing a crack as he grunted.

  We broke apart, circling, both panting, blood dripping into the dirt. His moves were slick—too damn good—but I had speed. I darted forward, faster than he could blink, vanishing behind him in a blur. He froze, thinking I’d sliced him, his hand patting his chest, but he felt nothing—no pain, no blood. I’d sheathed my sword mid-move, grinning as he turned, confused. He seized the chance, lunging with a brutal overhead strike, his bde screaming down. I sidestepped, calm as hell, and muttered, "Omae wa mou shindeiru." His eyes widened. "Nani?" he choked out, then looked down—his gut split open, a clean horizontal cut from my unseen ssh, so fast he hadn’t felt it. His body slid apart, top half toppling one way, bottom the other, a geyser of blood erupting as his guts spilled out, steaming in the cold air. He hit the ground in two pieces, his brown eyes fading as the light left them.

  I stood over him, blood pooling around my boots, and sighed. "I really wanted you as a son, Tada," I said, my voice low. "Yuki’s gonna be sad you’re dead—but don’t worry, I’ll fuck her so hard, pump out so many kids, she’ll forget you ever existed." His corpse stared up, bnk and still, as I wiped my sword on his tunic and walked off, the woods swallowing the mess behind me.

  ___________

  Morning broke, and I was at the shore, scrubbing Tadabaka’s blood off my hands and sword in the cold, pping waves, the red swirling away into the tide. I’d sthered the bck dye back into my hair, covering the white—Skarnulf was back, no trace of Asvald Ragnarsson for now. I trudged to the Snake Cn hall, my head still buzzing from the kill, and there they were waiting by a carriage—Ladgerda, some servant girls, and Asug, all dolled up. My eyes locked on Ladgerda’s fat ass and massive tits stuffed into that warrior gear. Fuck, this GILF gets me hard as a rock, I thought, my cock stirring as I walked up.

  Ladgerda clocked me coming and crossed her arms. "You’re te," she said, her red eyes boring into me. "Sorry," I muttered, pying the part. She stared harder, then smirked, slow and knowing. "What’s up?" I asked, keeping my cool. "You’ve killed someone, haven’t you?" she said, her voice low and sure. I opened my mouth to lie, "Nah—" but she cut me off sharp. "Don’t bullshit me. I see it in your eyes—greedy, bloody, just like me." She grinned wider, her weathered face lighting up. "If I were your age again, I’d fall for you, boy." I fshed a grin back, leaning in a bit. "Age is just a fucking number." She ughed, a rough, throaty sound. "Naughty little shit," she said, shaking her head, amused.

  With that, we piled into the carriage—me, Ladgerda, Asug, and a couple of servants—rolling off to who-the-fuck-knows-where, my dick still half-hard and my mind spinning with ways to get under Ladgerda’s armor.