The silence felt deafening the closer I moved toward camp. The snow was covered in paw prints, ones belonging to the frost wolves.
"Looks like I was right about them attacking camp."
"Euuk~"
Anxious to see what had happened, I melted into the dark night, leaving Toke behind carrying our gains. I pushed aside the branches obscuring my view of the camp, and for a moment, my eyes widened as I took in the scene before me.
"Is that… a Yeti!"
The beast stood over eight feet tall with fur as white as the snow beneath our feet. It almost resembled a gorilla but leaner, with a build that allowed it to stand upright just like a human. Its eyes were wild and burning with fury as it brandished a large tree trunk in its massive hands.
Still, from its demeanor, one thing you could see was that the creature was scared. Terrified of the even stronger monster approaching it. This monster was covered in blindingly bright red flames that lit up the entire campsite.
This monster was none other than my father, Dag. His men surrounded him, creating a large circle around him and the beast. Ragnar was among them with eyes that seemed to sparkle. The ground was also littered with wolf corpses.
"ROAR!"
The beast roared loudly in a panic as it swung the giant tree trunk; a feeble attempt to keep Dag at bay, but it was to no avail.
With a playful grin on his face, Dag walked toward the monster, the red flames on his body glowing brighter and melting the snow surrounding the camp. The red tattoo on his body covered his arms, legs, and even his back.
This red tattoo signified that he was blessed by the god of war, Tyr. And the fact that his tattoo stretched onto his arms, legs, and back showed that he was at stage 4 in his assimilation.
For a moment, it felt as if the air itself froze as the Yeti swung the tree trunk down at Dag. A loud crash reverberated throughout the entire camp, and at the same time, there was a blinding flash of red light. In the aftermath of the attack, the ground itself was scarred as a huge crater was left behind.
Dag was gone. His figure now stood behind the beast as he held a giant beating heart in his hands. The Yeti now had a giant melted-out hole in its chest. The beast didn't make a sound. It was already dead where it stood.
All that was left was for its massive body to fall to the ground. The silence in the air was all-consuming until a loud guttural roar ripped through the camp. It was a war cry from the men who witnessed this incredible show of power, and soon, more deafening cheers could be heard.
Incredible! Just incredible!
Just imagining having that kind of power made my bones vibrate with excitement. Not only his physical strength but the loyalty of the men surrounding him was also incredible. Taking in the sight, a strong feeling of envy crawled its way up from the pit of my stomach.
If I had his power that day, I could've stood up to the Earl. I couldn't protect my mother, and Ragnar wouldn't have suffered beside me.
As those thoughts raced through my mind, another question popped up…
Why didn't Dag fight against the Earl that day?
And where were these men who claimed to be loyal to him when his family was in danger?
It doesn't make sense.
"Father, you were amazing! One day, I want to be a powerful warrior like you!"
Ragnar stood in front of Dag, fists clenched tightly as conviction burned brightly in his eyes. Seeing his son standing before him with such conviction, Dag smiled warmly as he rested his large hand on the boy's head and ruffled his blond hair.
"I'm certain you'll be an even stronger warrior than I am."
Dag then turned his gaze in my direction, still smiling like an idiot.
"I'm certain both of you will grow to be powerful warriors. You're both my sons, after all!"
After his heartfelt words, the camp was once again filled with celebration. It turned out that the Yeti was actually the beast they had come here to hunt in the first place. But I also felt that there was another reason Dag had brought us up here with him.
This mountain was filled with magical beasts. Beasts that could significantly boost our assimilation. I could already feel it. Killing those frost wolves had helped increase my strength further than I would've gotten from killing regular animals.
The Jomsvikings, an elite brotherhood of Viking mercenaries, would be here in a year to recruit young Vikings. I had to be among those recruited. I needed to if I was going to learn more about Máttur and magic.
That was the only way I was going to figure out how to become stronger faster, or I'd forever be behind.
If I was going to be among those recruited, I needed to train. This mountain would be the perfect place to hone my skills.
For the next year, I decided to live on the mountain. My mother didn't take the news well, but Dag ultimately convinced her that I would be safe. Coincidentally, Ragnar had decided to do the same.
Though we lived on opposite sides of the mountain and didn't see each other often.
I hunted the magical beasts on the mountain, not only to get stronger but also for food and resources. In the mornings, I would train my body with exercises and swim in the freezing river. Throughout the day, I would hunt until nightfall, when I would drain the mana from my energy core.
Occasionally, Toke would join me, but usually he was at home helping his mother build boats. My half-sister Frey would also visit me at times. She also visited Ragnar, and when she came to visit me, she would tell me about him.
How different he seemed, how muscular he had gotten and how he reminded her of Dag. This lit a fire under me and pushed me to train harder.
Soon, a year had passed, and the Jomsvikings were here at our doorstep.