The Twin Peaks of Discord (Part 1)
We returned to the tribe after exacting bloody vengeance. Everyone wore the face of someone who'd just chugged a refreshing soda at the raid's outcome. But I stayed in a state of constant fury because of that damn book.
"Arrrgh!! Crraaack!!"
"Uh… son? What's wrong?"
"If something's bothering you, you can always tell us."
The tribe folk were so unnerved by my constant murderous aura that even my parents came looking for me. No point hiding it, so I told them the reason.
"It's because of the book Grandma Helga gave me."
"Oh, that thing you got from the grand shaman back then?"
"But what's in it that's got you like this?"
"It's a super boring poetry collection, and I have to analyze it in detail."
"Ah…"
"Want to take a look?"
"I, uh, I've got some work to do…"
"Ho ho ho, now that you mention it, it's time to sort the warehouse."
In the end, even my parents fled rather than peek at the book's contents. But our family baby!! Thumspin, surely you can share my pain!!
"H-Heroes don't study, or so I heard!"
The kid idolized me so much he'd grown allergic to books. Anyway, trading that stress for something worthwhile, I chatted with my capable SSS-rank subordinate.
"The Twin Peaks of Discord seem the most suspicious."
"You mean the place where the twin mountains turn their backs on each other."
"Hm? You know something about the area?"
"It's got such a unique shape, and lightning spirits roam there a lot, so Master and I went once."
The guy had free rein with Grandma Helga, so it made sense. Guide secured—time to think it over.
Helga had said following the first king's records might lead to traces… or not. Adventure wasn't my thing, but after all that hassle, I had to check it out.
"But the book warns against going in large numbers, so I'll pick ten to come along."
"Does that include me?"
"You're the guide, aren't you?"
Soon, it was time to select the warriors who'd join us. Everyone wanted in, so predictably, that moment arrived.
"Let the Maggora for selection begin!!!"
""Yaaaaaaaah!!!!""
"Kill each other from now on!!"
Last time was battle royale, so this round was tournament style. But from the first match, the fighters were so hyped it was a deadlock—no point in points, so we ruled overwhelming dominance within time limits wins.
After a week-long tournament, the top ten were set.
"Ulfrik-nim, all three assistants are competing—is that okay? We might lose our trainers for the rookies."
"Just promote 11th through 13th to temp assistants. No issue."
Drill training was for unity anyway, with senior Vikings joining in. Gotta give the runners-up a shot, right? We spent the next week prepping for the trip, teaching the new temps.
I led Harcon and the warriors out.
Following Harcon's lead, we rode out. With just twelve of us, bandits ambushed along the way.
Crunch!!
"Huh?"
"Eh?"
"First time facing Berserkrs?"
"Come on in."
The bandits' pathetic attacks couldn't scratch us. We turned them into the far north's famous attractions: ice corpse statues.
Decent side cash had the warriors grinning, so my lips curled up too. Plundering the bandits in reverse with some good Geunbbae, we pressed on.
We reached the Twin Peaks of Discord, like twin giants who'd quarreled and turned away—grand and awe-inspiring. As the warriors marveled,
I pulled out that book I hated reading.
"Probably climb to the summit from here?"
"Just in case, could you share the passage?"
"'Above the feuding twins, a warm mother rises. The true mother who embraces all darkness for reconciliation.'"
"Definitely those twin mountains then. And the 'mother' in the verse…"
"Sun or moon, probably."
"Ooh, Ulfrik-nim's quite literary?"
"This? Anyway, let's head up."
We made for the twin summits. Horses couldn't handle it, so we released them in a good spot.
"Hope they come back when we do."
"Yeah."
"Ulfrik-nim!! Gear's all packed!"
"Depart right now?"
"Let's gooo!!"
With a roaring cheer, we charged up the mountain. Brutal cold and beasts blocked us, but nothing stopped Berserkrs. Harcon the shaman seemed right at home, having been here before.
We hit the summit.
"Urgh… my head."
"Definitely… huff, out of breath…"
"Altitude sickness—rest up. Hey, Harcon, what next from here?"
"It mentioned reconciliation, right? Probably something linking the peaks appears when the sun or moon slots between them."
"Hope it's not a waste."
Harcon treated the warriors' sickness while we pitched a temp camp just below the peak. That night,
as the moon rose overhead, we investigated. The anomaly was shockingly easy to spot.
"Drengr."
"No way…"
"Pfft, testing our courage?"
The peaks faced away, cliffs between. Midway across one, an alien force swirled.
"Probably only visible now, here. And to enter—"
"Dive off the cliff, yeah."
"That's a stupid idea."
"But fun!! Warriors!!!"
""Arrrgh!!!""
"Shields up!!!"
Clang!!!!
"Charge!!!"
""Ha!!""
With battle cries, shields high, we soared into the sky.
Honestly, expected to splat with shields. But that alien force? A portal.
Kuuuung!!
"Everyone okay!!"
"All good!!"
"Headcount clear!!"
"I'm fine too!"
Braced the drop—we landed in a massive ice cavern. No dragging feet; weapons out, we bolted forward to a huge chamber.
"Something's about to go down here."
"Ulfrik-nim, that magic line…"
Fwoooong!!!
"Not my fault, right?"
"…It was gonna happen anyway."
Humanoid figures emerged from the chamber's center. Wait… old Nord battle gear?
The other Vikings clocked it too.
"An-ancestors!!"
"Jackpot!! Knew following the Drengr was right!!!"
"We get to throw down bare-fisted with ancestors?!"
They were hyped. The ancestral spirits grinned approvingly at our fired-up crew. And the book's warning clicked.
"One spirit per warrior—matching our numbers."
"A test, then."
"Good!! Weapons—!!"
Thud!!
"Hold up, Ulfrik-nim."
"What now."
"The ancestors seem to be pointing at me and you?"
"Huh?"
They gestured between Harcon and me, then the rear path.
"What, we can just go?"
"Looks like."
The spirits even nodded, understanding us. Free pass was nice, but I wanted to fight ancestors too. And our warriors seemed a bit worr—
Clang!! Ting!!
Weapons hitting ground—turned to see our assistants grinning.
"Drengr, don't waste your time—leave this to us."
"Heh heh heh, a truly glorious brawl awaits."
"Harcon, look after Ulfrik-nim for us."
"I-I get you're excited, but even if you wanna fistfight, the ancestors might not—"
"Harcon, just look."
Whoosh! Thunk!!
Reacting to our vibe? One spirit chucked his helmet back.
"""Oh."""
Our warriors dropped weapons; spirits grinned and dropped theirs. Then armor off—spirits followed.
Sudden group strip show from the dudes made my stomach churn—but!!
"Hahaha! True ancestors alright!"
"So honorable and pumped!"
"Go get 'em!! Drengr!!!"
"We'll have a deep chat with the ancestors!"
"Yeah, go!!"
"Back soon, warriors!"
Harcon and I dashed past the spirits toward the passage. Two spirits vanished.
The rest burst out laughing, like teasing the missing pair.
With Ulfrik and Harcon gone, the ice cavern chamber ironically blazed with heat. Ten ancestors and ten descendants, stripped bare, warmed up. The two groups closed in with mad grins—
Fwooooong!!!
Fists flew. As ancestors and heirs conversed with their bodies,
Ulfrik and Harcon met swarms of lightning spirits in a long passage.
Crackle-zap!! Rumble!!
"Harcon! This many spirits normal?!"
"No!!! Probably the anomaly at the peaks originates here!"
They bulldozed through the barrage on sheer grit. How far they ran, they reached another chamber.
An ice throne sat center, a peculiar hammer atop it.
"That can't be…"
"The rune hammer that commands thunder from the book."
The Nords' true hero and first king's legendary weapon. Harcon shivered at the sight. But sensing the trial ahead, he wisely hung back.
"Remember those ancestral spirits?"
"Yeah. And I can guess what's next."
"Need help?"
"No—stay back like now."
Ulfrik grinned, gripping axes one per hand. As he advanced, the rune hammer floated up from the throne.
A familiar phenomenon swirled around it.
Cracklerumble!! Kuuuung!!
Spotting the ancestor wielding the rune hammer, Ulfrik strode forward slowly.