Reincarnated In Vikings

A man in black hair and dark brown eyes.was fair-skinned, he had a black beard. He stood atop the cliff, the wind tugging at his robes as he gazed out over the breathtaking valley before him. It was a paradise of verdant meadows dotted with wildflowers, shimmering rivers that carved paths through the land, and distant mountains veiled in mist. The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the landscape in an ethereal glow, making it seem as if the valley itself was alive, breathing with the magic of countless gods and myths.

His mind wandered to the moment he had first arrived in this strange, patchwork world. The memory was vivid, etched into his soul. It was a divine joke, a celestial prank orchestrated by GOD. Merlin had been granted three wishes—random, whimsical, and seemingly limitless—and sent to what he initially believed was a Viking-TV show realm. He remembered the raw thrill of discovery, the excitement of stepping into a world where he thought he could live out his dreams of ancient sagas and heroic legends. But soon enough, the truth unraveled.

This was no mere Viking world. It was a chaotic fusion of countless shows and movies mixed. There was Gods of Egypt movie verse, with gods like Ra, Osiris, Horus, Hathor and Anubis, their influence casting long shadows across the desert sands. There were the American gods TV Show version involved. Norse halls, Greek temples, and otherworldly realms mingled in strange harmony. Each step Merlin took revealed a new layer of complexity, and he realized GOD had sent him not to a single world but to a kaleidoscope of divinity, myth, and chaos.

Merlin's lips curled into a wry smile. His three wishes had been the key to surviving and thriving in this unpredictable realm. The first, the gift of the Silvertongue from the world of Inkheart, was a power that defied imagination. It allowed him to summon anything from the pages of a book into reality, bending fiction into fact. The true brilliance of the gift, however, was in its ownership. Anything he summoned—be it Thor's hammer, the Philosopher's Stone, or the Book of Destiny—would obey him absolutely. No magical barrier or divine enchantment could challenge his control. And in the sanctuary of his mindscape, a massive library sprawled infinitely, housing every book and story across existence, ready to be drawn upon at will.

His second wish, the Encantus, was no less extraordinary. It was a tome imbued with the magic of the multiverse, a boundless reservoir of spells and sorcery. With it, Merlin could wield the powers of countless dimensions and realities, from the fiery incantations of Hogwarts to the eldritch sorcery of the Darkhold. The Encantus was both a weapon and a guide, an unending source of arcane knowledge that grew with every new discovery.

The third wish was a gift of the body—a divine physique rivaling the gods themselves. He possessed the strength of Thor, the endurance of Hercules, and the resilience of gods. Yet this was only the beginning. As Merlin aged, his physical capabilities would grow exponentially, eventually surpassing even the mightiest beings in this hybrid world.

Merlin's gaze returned to the valley, his thoughts a mix of nostalgia and anticipation. This world was chaotic, unpredictable, and often dangerous, but it was also a place of boundless opportunity.

"GOD may have pranked me," Merlin murmured to himself, his voice carrying a touch of humor, "but he did give me the best gifts"

With that, he turned from the valley, his eyes gleaming with determination. The adventure was far from over.