"Sir Sylas, would you guard the village and stop any stray forces that might slip through?"

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"You don’t need our help in the main battle?" Sylas asked.

"On second thought, I don’t think we’ll need it."

Initially, Bjorn had wanted to reduce casualties by relying on Sylas’s strength. But now he understood that his people needed this chance to settle their scores, to fight the enemy fully, without interference. And, more importantly, there was one overriding reason.

"It’s time to show the ones foolish enough to attack Falun exactly what Falun is made of." Bjorn’s eyes gleamed with determination.

Erikson, chieftain of the Black Claw tribe, was in a foul mood. He had been handed the task he wanted least from the high chieftain.

"Attacking Falun, of all places. This is awful."

In Erikson’s eyes, Falun was the worst possible target. It was a backwater village with little to plunder, and most of its residents were experienced soldiers. There was more to lose than gain from this raid. If it weren’t for the agreement between the high chieftain and the viscount, he wouldn’t have gone near the place.

"Damn it, why did I have to end up with this assignment?" he grumbled.

"Probably because you fell out of the high chieftain’s favor," his lieutenant replied with a smirk.

"What!?" Erikson’s glare bore into the lieutenant, who didn’t flinch, only pursing his lips slightly.

"Why else would you speak out against him in the council? Thanks to you, the entire tribe is in his bad books."

"It was an honest opinion! I was thinking of the future of all clans!"

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"Please, we all know you were just trying to boost your standing."

Erikson’s face flushed with embarrassment. The lieutenant wasn’t wrong. By voicing opposition when everyone else supported the high chieftain, he would’ve appeared brave, gaining attention among the other chieftains. Perhaps, he’d even be seen as a faithful advisor.

"But instead, he bore a grudge and assigned me to this cursed mission."

His jaw tightened in frustration. A true leader should accept counsel with an open heart, not hold a petty grudge and send his advisor into a situation with nothing to gain and everything to lose!

"Damn it, this is a nightmare."

Erikson glanced at his lieutenant, who still wore a sullen, dissatisfied expression, openly showing his discontent. It was a sign of how much his standing had faltered within the tribe. By opposing the high chieftain, Erikson had endangered not just himself but the entire tribe.

"I have to redeem myself in this battle."

If he didn’t prove himself here, he might lose his position as chieftain—a thought that made him tremble. But in the North, strength spoke louder than anything else. If he could display his prowess in battle, he might regain the respect he’d lost. Just then, one of his scouts returned in a hurry.

"Chieftain! They’re coming toward us!"

"Good! Form up the phalanx!" Erikson commanded. He’d expected the villagers to come out and intercept them before they reached the village itself. They always did, just as they had when other tribes attacked. Erikson had crafted his strategy around this pattern.

"If they’re attacking head-on, the phalanx formation will be perfect."

Recently, the high chieftain had shared tactics with all the clans, and the phalanx formation was ideal for such encounters, especially against undisciplined charges.

"All we have to do is hold formation, and they’ll break themselves against us. Victory will be ours."

A smug smile crept onto Erikson’s face. He imagined the glory that would follow if he left Falun in ruins, the satisfaction of breaking through a village known for its defenses. His standing would undoubtedly rise.

"But, chieftain, something feels strange," the scout said, sounding hesitant.

"Strange? How so?"

"Their approach… it feels dangerous, chieftain. They’re coming at us with an intensity I’ve never seen."

Erikson frowned. The scout’s ominous tone irked him, interrupting his visions of victory. "Nonsense! What kind of ’intensity’ are you talking about? You’re just imagining things because you’re scared!"

"But, chieftain, I’m serious…"

"Enough of that! Stop babbling nonsense and prepare for battle!" Erikson barked, silencing the scout through the remnants of his authority. Watching the scout back away, Erikson clicked his tongue in frustration.

When the enemy charged toward them in disorganized waves, he allowed himself to relax. "They’re coming! Hold your positions and show them what we’re made of!" Erikson shouted, gripping his weapon tightly. The haphazard charge looked like a recipe for their defeat. As the forces collided, however…

"Kill them all!"

With the roar of Falun’s people, a massacre began.

Erikson felt as though he were in a nightmare. With every flash of sword and spear, his warriors screamed and fell. "How did it turn out like this?" He couldn’t comprehend it. Everything had been in their favor—the enemy had attacked in a disorganized rush, while his forces had taken up the ideal phalanx formation to counter it. Their numbers were roughly equal, so there should have been no way for them to lose.

"Yet our phalanx crumbled instantly."

The sheer fury and resolve of the villagers had broken his warriors’ ranks, making them falter and spread that hesitation across the formation until it collapsed. The result was an overwhelming, one-sided defeat.

"Die!"

The sudden attack snapped Erikson out of his thoughts, and he raised his shield just in time to block a swinging sword.

Crash!

"Argh!" The force nearly drove him to one knee. The attack was so raw and brutal that he could hardly believe it came from a mere foot soldier. When he lowered his shield, he was met with the fierce gaze of a villager, brimming with hostility.

"Is this the ’intensity’ they mentioned? Every one of them was fighting with a bloodthirsty fervor that Erikson had never seen. This wasn’t a fight for survival—it was a vendetta. Even a veteran of countless battles like Erikson felt a chill run down his spine.

"Damn it! What the hell got into them—gah!" He was forced to parry another swing, this one from a massive axe. It was sheer luck that he managed to raise his shield in time.

Crash!

"Urgh!" The impact sent Erikson sprawling backward. He scrambled to his feet to face a hulking, bear-like figure.