Chapter 69 Luck Or Fate?

The battle intensified in the areas they were being fought, Erik was the first to shoot out of the forest and there was a field where the full force of Vestfold awaited.

"Now this is what I am fucking talking about!" Erik exclaimed like he was a wild beast let out of his cage.

In the distance, he could see a man mounted on a horse but he could not make out whoever that was due to the proximity.

But he recognized the horse, it was the horse of King Asmund but the men before him were so overwhelming that even Erik had to pause to take a deep breath.

He noticed from his earlier battle that these men were not your average warriors and took a series of injuries from their swords.

Erik's men finally caught up to him except for Tyr and a few others, something Erik took note of but did not put too much thought into it.

Erik smiled, raising his axes but just before he could give the order to charge so they could die in the most glorious way imaginable, Oskar popped out of the forest to his left with Sven and his men following suit soon after.

"Sven? I am surprised you are still alive," Erik shouted as his voice echoed. These men did not like each other but they were relieved that they both lived.

They needed all the strength they could muster because the person they wanted was King Asmund, this was a far stretch as Askild knew this was impossible but Erik thought it possible.

He had a bone to pick with King Asmund and he was not going to throw in the towel until he got that bone.

"Do not tell me you are getting cold feet now, Erik…" Sven teased the berserker but Sven also noticed that Tyr was not with him.

"Did they get the punk?" Sven asked but Erik did not respond to this question, partly because it was none of Sven's business.

They knew this would very well be their last day, this battle was not for survival but for Valhalla.

Erik raised both his axes and screamed like a feral beast and his men followed suit, the floor vibrating with the mere frequencies of their various voices.

This taunt did little to worry the enemies because they knew regardless of their taunt, numbers don't lie.

Erik led the charge with only a fragment of the overall army of Vestfold detaching and engaging them, Erik was enjoying this battle as he cut them down like they were not even there.

But his men did not have this same luck as it was more evenly matched in their exchanges.

Sven didn't charge directly at the incoming enemies but instructed his men to form what he called the "york formation." This involved the center of their formation being empty, they opened up, and in the process dodged their attacks.

The enemies that made it into the center were brutally slaughtered as the formation was reestablished with their shields raised to prevent any form of backup for the trapped enemies.

They were cut off completely, this was a brilliant plan as it was enough to reduce the casualties Sven's men suffered, but he knew that this formation could only hold up for so long.

This was just the first wave after all.

He spared Erik a glance and noticed that he was smiling despite the odds stacked against them.

Did he not understand the concept of death or did he not care?

Sven at that moment was sure that Erik did not think he would die today.

That is an arrogant mindset but it was contagious as he too, started to believe he would not die today.

Raising his sword in the air, he swung it down to instruct his men to charge forward and that is exactly what they did, they charged to provide Erik backup upon the detachment of the second wave from King Asmund's army, the clash was more violent as Erik kept seeing his men fall around him in numbers but he did not care as they were making leeway, this was what he thought. There was no way Odin, the All-Father, would deny him a magnificent duel with Asmund.

A man he has deemed worthy to send him to Valhalla should he fall, it would not be a death that shames him but he certainly could not fall to these nameless warriors.

There was no way his life purpose was to die to give a scrub a semblance of reputation.

Erik noticed the faces of their enemies contort into that of horror.

"That is right! Fear me!" Erik shouted but he soon began coughing, but it was not just him as Sven and every warrior on their side began coughing.

Looking back, they noticed the forest was on fire and it consumed the trees like a fire god was on a vengeance mission.

Black smoke completely shrouded the battle in darkness, and this meant that no one could see anyone. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of coughing.

"W-Wat is this!?" Oskar questioned, he knew they had to get out of the smoke and the only open field was in the direction of the army, was this another of their tricks to suffocate them instead?

No, their reaction to its appearance showed that they were equally as surprised, so what happened?

Oskar searched for answers but Erik knew what happened, this was not from the enemy.

This was from that little runt he had taken under his wings.

"That damn Tyr…!" Erik said with a wild grin but what was the goal of this as it put both sides at a disadvantage, the wind did not help to clear the smoke but only added fuel to the consuming flames.

Vestfold retreated, or it was more accurate to say King Asmund and a minority of his army retreated until they were some distance away from the main army, they could not lose this first battle nor could they lose their King. Retreating will also boost the confidence of the enemies, something he could not afford right now.

Asmund caught his breath at last and waited to see just what the result of this battle would be.

"Are you King Asmund?" A voice asked, and looking back, it was a warrior that was wearing their colors. No, it was more accurate to say, warriors.

"I am Tyr, I have come for your head!"