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Ch 26 — And finally… the Mongols

  Ch 26 — And finally… the Mongols

  “I’m exhausted…” Tobias said.

  “Did you manage to sleep a little?” Mark asked.

  It was finally morning. The ship kept sailing through the empty ocean, under the warm sunlight. And everybody was on the ship’s deck, waiting to be brought back into the cave.

  “Nah. I couldn’t sleep,” Tobias answered. “I was too nervous. You?”

  “A little. But I woke up all sweaty and with my heart racing. We shouldn’t have drunk so much wine.”

  “We told you stealing the third bottle from the Vikings was a bad idea. And drinking it by yourself was just plain stupid. Did you at least level up when you slept?”

  “I wish. I haven’t leveled in days. I might literally be the lowest-leveled person on this fucking ship.”

  “That’s weird. Your Class seems to be somewhat different from the others—we have to look into that when this fight is over.”

  “If we survive.”

  “Of course. If we survive. Thank you for reminding me.”

  Mark smiled.

  “Anytime. You nervous? You play a big role in our plans.”

  Mark and Tobias were sitting on the two cannons they had brought up onto the deck. Tobias looked at his cannon and gave it a gentle pat.

  “It’ll be easy. I just have to use a couple [Fireballs].”

  “It will mean the death of a lot of Mongols. Are you sure you won’t hesitate? You cannot hesitate.”

  Tobias thought it through, then shook his head.

  “Fuck them. They shouldn’t have messed with us.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  “In any case, you have a more dangerous job than I do. You’re sure you’ll be able to protect me?”

  “Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

  Erik Bloodaxe had spent days and nights muttering to himself, walking through the ship, trying to remember everything about the last time they had gone to the Glimpse of Valhalla—especially in what direction was the ship headed, and in what direction they had reappeared in when they left the pocket dimension.

  And eventually, he had established that they would reappear in the cave facing the direction of the wind. Everybody had looked at Harald, who, after some consideration, had agreed with his king. And so they had positioned the cannons aiming towards the front of the ship.

  The plan was simple: appear in the cave with the cannons aimed directly at the Mongols. Fire them at point-blank range. And then bring the surviving Mongols back to the ship, to slaughter them.

  Sadly, the Mongols’ plan was also simple: wait for them to reappear, and then shoot everyone with arrows until they were dead.

  If there was some limit to the weight they could take from the Glimpse of Valhalla, and they couldn’t take the cannons with them… The Gamers and the Vikings were dead. As simple as that.

  The same happened if Erik Bloodaxe had fucked up, and they reappeared with the cannons aimed at the wrong side, their asses exposed to the Mongols.

  But if they could take the cannons with them, and if Erik Bloodaxe was right… it was the job of Mark to get in front of Tobias, in front of everybody, and try to protect them from the barrage of arrows. He had a big, thick, specially designed wooden shield for that—made from parts they had salvaged off the ship. The logic was that his [Phantom Presence] would help him survive whatever arrows the shield couldn’t stop.

  Everybody else was also equipped with wooden shields. They were now sitting behind the cannons, on the wooden floor of the ship’s deck, talking among themselves. The tension of the future battle was making them speak in hushed tones.

  “I keep telling you, that’s totally an island,” Tobias said, looking at the horizon that stretched out in front of the ship.

  Mark looked toward the horizon, expecting to see nothing—for almost ten days, they had seen nothing but the endless ocean.

  But Tobias was right. There was something on the horizon, a small silhouette, barely more than a little point that remained still against the waves.

  “Huh…” he looked back. “Hey, you guys see this too?”

  Everybody got up and walked toward the front of the ship.

  “Nah,” Emily said. “There’s nothing there.”

  “There is something,” Gustav said.

  “Really?” Emily asked, squinting her eyes.

  “Yeah. That’s an island,” Bjorn confirmed.

  “So the wind was taking us somewhere?” Liam asked. He grabbed the rail of the ship to keep balance. The ocean was getting rougher.

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  They had kept the same direction for the ten days they had spent on the ship, just following the constant wind with the few sails that had been deployed when they arrived at the Glimpse of Valhalla—most of the sails had been secured against the mast from the very beginning, and there had been no reason to deploy them.

  For half an hour, they watched the island getting closer and closer—it was bigger than it seemed. They could even distinguish what looked like a small city on the coast.

  As time passed, the ocean grew more turbulent. And the sky, which had remained completely blue and beautiful the entire time they had been there, began to darken, with massive black clouds starting to cover the sun. The ship rocked violently, and towering waves crashed over them, drenching them in seawater.

  “Somebody cover the cannons,” ordered Erik Bloodaxe. A few of his Vikings and Gustav and Liam ran to cover the cannons so the gunpowder wouldn’t get wet.

  “How long until we are gone?” Arthur asked, looking at Erik Bloodaxe.

  “Shouldn’t be long,” answered the Viking, still staring at the island. He hadn’t even looked towards the cannons—taking for granted his orders would be obeyed.

  Massive bolts of lightning began to strike from the sky. The thunder followed soon after, so powerful they could feel it in their bones.

  “Nothing like this happened the last time you came here?” Mark asked. He had to shout a little so the Viking king could hear him.

  “Of course not. We would have told you.”

  Then a massive lightning bolt hit the small city. It was so powerful that, for a moment, it seemed as if God himself had decided to shatter them with his divine thunderbolt. The lightning was wide enough to cover half the city in its blaze. Mark was forced to close his eyes, and the radiance of the lightning still burned him.

  This time, the thunder threw many of them to the ground. The ship started to soar away from the island and seemed at risk of capsizing from the suddenly violent waves.

  “Keep the ship towards the island!” Erik Bloodaxe ordered his men, while getting up from the floor. “We’ll leave at any moment. We mustkeep the cannons facing the right direction!”

  A couple of Vikings ran toward the ship’s helm—they had played a little with it, curious about its mechanism, and they were now familiar enough to steer the ship.

  Mark was one of the few who had managed not to lose his balance. And still standing, his eyes a little blinded by the lighting, he kept looking towards the island.

  So he was the first to see it.

  “Holy fuck…”

  A monster had appeared in the city. It was massive. Impossibly large. Towering over the island like a moving mountain just fallen from the sky. It was made of twisted metal. Two legs, four arms. The joints of its body revealed an interior that seemed to be made of molten lava. Its massive eyes glowed with malice.

  Mark was pretty sure if the monster fell to the ground, it would flatten more than half of the island.

  The monster lashed out with its claws, hitting the city and the surrounding forest. Buildings crumbled into dust, and what must have been hundreds of trees were sent flying.

  For a couple of minutes, the monster continued wreaking havoc in the city. Mark thought he heard the faint sound of some church bells tolling with despair, before they were smashed into oblivion. It was the first proof they had that somebody else had been within the Glimpse of Valhalla.

  “Nobody will survive,” Erik Bloodaxe said, looking with fascination at the monster.

  Then a massive circle of light drew itself upon the sky. It was small, compared with the monster. But it rippled with magic—the same magic that seemed to live within the spell book they had taken from the battlefield. And suddenly, sunlight came from the circle, shining down upon the massive creature.

  The monster looked up as some flying creatures crossed the circle, starting to move around the monster, changing directions to avoid its reaching claws. From such a big distance, with the monster messing up with their sense of proportions, it was hard to calculate the size of the flying figures—they could have been the size of seagulls, or of massive planes.

  But then the small flying figures started unleashing torrents of fire against the monster, which tried to protect itself by extending one of its massive arms.

  And Mark knew what the flying creatures were; he had seen them in one of the visions from the battlefield.

  Dragons…

  He also remembered the size of the dragon from his vision, and that only made the monster dwarfing them even more terrifying.

  He looked at the cannons they were taking from the Glimpse of Valhalla—some of the Vikings, and Gustav and Liam, had protected them from the water rushing overboard, and they were now securing them from all the swaying of the ocean. If one of the cannons was lost, they would be fucked.

  Mark thought that even those powerful cannons would be useless against such a monster.

  “This doesn’t affect us. We’ll leave soon,” Erik Bloodaxe said, walking towards his position behind the cannons. “Everybody take positions. We’re leaving this place. I can feel it.” His voice was firm, but even he seemed a little shaken.

  “Eyes on the prize, everybody!” Arthur added.

  Mark searched for Tobias, and found him pale, apparently having just vomited, staring at the distant monster. Mark said:

  “That… thing is not our problem. The Mongols are our problem.”

  Tobias forced himself to stop looking at the monster and walked back towards the cannons.

  Mark could feel the Glimpse of Valhalla starting to collapse. The air grew more dense, and a low buzzing sound seemed to come from everywhere at the same time.

  People took those last moments to say goodbye.

  Arthur and Mark shared a couple of inside jokes. Gustav and Bjorn shook hands. Wyatt took a deep breath and muttered something, maybe a prayer. Harald tried to encourage Liam, who was trembling and looked younger than ever.

  Emily hugged Tobias with all her strength—she had grown very fond of him. And Tobias returned the hug—Mark was pretty sure Tobias was a little in love with her.

  That could become a problem in the future, he thought idly, knowing that it was possible that none of them would have a future.

  Then Emily ran back to the middle of the fighters—as a [Healer], she was the most valuable member of the group, and she would be protected at all costs.

  The strongest Vikings crouched beside the cannons, ready to lift them. They only needed two Vikings for each cannon—their Levels gave them the strength to handle the massive weight.

  Everything had been calculated, even the moment they would raise the weapons.

  “Please, you beautiful things,” Mark said, looking at the massive iron weapons. “Please come with us.”

  Tobias took his position in the middle of the two cannons. He seemed anxious. He jumped around a little, trying to loosen up. And he even threw a [Fireball] to the air, and watched it disintegrate a couple hundred feet above.

  The buzzing sound became a deafening roar. Mark looked at the horizon. He could see the sky itself starting to disappear, collapsing upon itself. He looked at the small island and saw that the dragons had managed to make the monster fall on one of its knees.

  Maybe there was hope? Maybe the colossus could be defeated?

  And suddenly the monster opened its mouth, and it roared with fury, throwing from one side to the other an inferno made of fire and lightning that engulfed the dragons, making them disappear from the skies.

  And for a moment, the roar of the monster seemed to silence the world.

  And Mark felt his body dissolving, being carried away, leaving the Glimpse of Valhalla.

  And he found himself back in the cave, in front of a rapidly organizing army of sixty Mongols.

  And the Mongols found themselves facing seven Gamers.

  Ten Vikings.

  And two goddamn cannons.

  Fuck yeah, Mark thought as he saw the Vikings setting the cannons on the ground.

  Then Tobias leaned down, placing a hand on each cannon—right above their ignition ports.

  “[FIREBALL]!” he shouted.

  BOOM!

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