The Final Dance Draws Near

The conclusion of the war drew closer, the soil had absorbed the rain, transforming it from solid earth into mud.

The sun that was hidden behind the clouds fell to the ground, just like their fallen warrior.

It was barely bright but the illumination was enough to see clearly.

"Get King Asmund!" A warrior shouted and for the first time in a month, Askild showed himself in the place he recorded defeat, he looked the same.

The menacing aura that made him so feared was still present and behind him was his army.

Askild was the embodiment of killing intent despite Erik standing a couple of meters behind.

Erik felt small, this was laughable considering his side, Askild had such a presence.

Asmund walked to the walls and saw that Askild had made his move, he was certain that the capture of his son was the reason that Askild was brave enough to do this.