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Being a Viking Isn’t Fun – Chapter 12

.。.:✧ Chapter 12✧:.。.

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Shio
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This landing operation was not accompanied by a hail of bullets, like on Omaha Beach.

Rather, it was so quiet that only the sound of crashing waves and gusting wind could be heard.

Unlike at Dover’s beach, where we had to stop the ships offshore and slowly drag them in due to the many pebbles, here on this unnamed beach in East Anglia, covered entirely in sand, the dragon ships gently rode the waves onto the shore.

“Heave-ho.”

Whenever I leapt over the prow onto land, the solid ground’s pleasant resistance seemed to give me new strength. And with my lead, the warriors disembarked one by one, pulling the ships—about two-thirds on land—completely onto the beach. Then, they checked personnel and equipment and formed ranks.

It wasn’t so much a systematic roll call like “Ah! Personnel and equipment all present, sir! I like blood, sir!” but more like checking the person next to you.

After roughly brushing off the sand stuck to my hands, I glanced at Ivarr signaling the adjutants to depart, then looked at the gently sloping hill we would have to climb, when-

‘Huh? What’s that?’

-Three men on horseback were staring at us intruders with wide eyes from atop the low hill.

“…”

“… Hyah! Go!”

After a brief pause as both sides tried to grasp the situation, time resumed its course. The three men, clearly scouts or patrols of the East Anglian kingdom, quickly turned their horses and rode off wildly, vanishing beyond my sight.

“This is going to be troublesome.”

Ivarr, who had also been watching the patrolmen flee in haste, stood beside me and quietly said.

“We weren’t planning to hide anyway, but I wasn’t hoping they’d notice us this quickly.”

Tsk tsk tsk-

Clicking his tongue, Ivarr casually caressed the handle of his exotic sword, looking very relaxed.

“What should we do, Ivarr?”

“Well, first we need to cross that hill.”

“And then?”

“Then we move forward, brother. Until the master of this place comes out.”

Ivarr spoke as if he were picking wild berries, but his words were far from light. So I moved to the front of the formation, which was slowly taking shape, and asked Ivarr again.

“Will the Konungr of the East Anglians prepare to fight us?”

“I don’t know, brother. Unfortunately, I’m not someone favored by the gods like you, I’m just an ordinary person. The future is like a foggy night sea to me.”

“Ivarr, I can’t see the future either.”

“Is that so?”

I shook my head and spread my palms toward Ivarr, who was looking at me with a dubious expression.

This was probably a universal gesture for “I don’t know” or “What are you talking about?” and Ivarr burst out laughing at my ambiguous gesture.

“Hahaha! You should stop acting like a child with that giant body of yours, Helgi.”

Chatting like this, we climbed the hill that had been blocking our view of the coast from the inland, finally greeted by the wonderful scenery.

“I think, Helgi.”

As the wind grew chilly, hinting at possible rain, Ivarr, who was watching the adjutants checking for horse tracks nearby, called out to me while I admired the beautiful landscape of the British island.

“Our conversation with the priest of Canterbury-”

“The Archbishop?”

“Yes, whatever. It seems that fact has reached here.”

“…Indeed, that seems to be correct.”

The Archbishop might have sent messengers here and there, or the news might have spread through traveling merchants—probably both.

“If I were the Konungr of East Anglia, I’d think it worth trying to face a group of about 800 warriors.”

Yes, that was right. After all, this was East Anglia’s home turf. If they wanted to fight, manpower wouldn’t be an issue. In a world like this, you could turn farmers into soldiers by simply handing them a spear and shield. There weren’t many warriors with proper training and quality equipment.

“Hmm. So what should we do, Ivarr?”

In response to my question as a novice expedition leader, Ivarr, the veteran commander, answered without hesitation.

“First, we need to go meet them. After the meeting, we’ll decide. Whether to run or to fight.”

I nodded at his decisive answer, but as I watched Ivarr’s gaze and the way he kept fingering the handle of his sword, I couldn’t shake the feeling that a big fight was imminent.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

 

When people thought of Vikings, they often imagined fearsome warriors with bushy beards wielding axes. Surprisingly, based on what I’d seen with my own eyes, every aspect of that image was wrong.

First, we didn’t use the term “Viking,” and we didn’t have bushy beards (I must emphasize again: we Norsemen prioritized grooming. Having traveled extensively, we were quite sensitive to trends, much like hipsters). We preferred spears over axes. And while we were skilled fighters, the term “fearsome” didn’t quite fit us. Instead, “cold-blooded (cunning) plunderers” suited us better.

Therefore, the scene before my eyes might be somewhat disappointing to anyone expecting something majestic.

“Roughly a thousand, maybe? Anyway, they look a bit more numerous than us.”

No sooner had we left the coast than we were trudging through swampy terrain that clung to our feet. And after crossing several hills that seemed to appear every few steps (with a bit of exaggeration), we finally saw a group of troops waiting for us.

At the front of the Angles, positioned on a rather high slope, stood a man in well-made armor wearing a shining metal crown, furrowing his brow and straining his eyes.

“Ivarr, that’s the Konungr of the Angles.”

“Yes, I can see him clearly, Helgi. It seems he doesn’t want to talk with us…”

The armor of the Anglian infantry, lined up in a row, was varied, but they were mostly farmers who had somehow managed to acquire spears, shields, and helmets. My superior eyesight detected deep anxiety in their expressions

‘Hmm.’

On the other hand, glancing to the side, I saw that the Norse warriors in my view displayed more resolve in preparing for the upcoming battle than fear.

‘The only advantage they have over us is their higher ground.’

In my opinion, this was winnable.

The slope wasn’t steep or anything; it was a gentle incline that we could easily climb at a quick pace. The distance wasn’t as long as I had expected, and they hadn’t prepared many archers.

Moreover, just to be sure, I personally scouted with my keen eyes and ears for any traps or hidden troops, but found no signs of either.

However, one worrying point was that the warriors of Aros, including myself, had no experience in such large-scale engagements.

“It seems they’ve gathered hastily. Edmund, cyning of East Anglia.”

Ivarr licked his lips with a dangerous glint in his eyes as he watched the Angles lined up on the hill, shouting to intimidate us. With his hand resting on his sword, his dark green eyes moved restlessly before finally settling on Edmund, who looked down at us proudly from atop a white horse at the front.

“Watch closely, Helgi. If anything seems ambiguous, just act first and think later. Odin watches over the brave with his one eye.”

[Shing-!]

Finally seeming to have made up his mind, Ivarr drew his long sword in one motion and quickly gave orders.

“Guthrum! Take the right. Helgi! Go to the left. I’ll lead the center. Today, we must greet our old neighbors with long-overdue regards.”

“Understood! Jarl Ivarr!”

“Understood.”

As Ivarr’s order rang out, I dashed in the opposite direction from where Guthrum was running. And for a moment, it felt as if a giant snake were twisting its body around me.

The section leaders shouted loudly as they saw Guthrum and me sprinting to opposite sides of the formation,

“Bardaga tilbúin! (Ready for battle)” and the atmosphere, once tense, now crackled with killing intent. The warriors’ spears and shields gleamed coldly under the sunlight breaking through the clouds.

“Hrolf! We attack. We’ll move according to the signal from the center.”

“Understood! Jarl Helgi!”

[Buuuu- uuung-]

“Áfram! (Forward)”

[Buuung-]

Soon after, a resounding horn blast echoed across the wide space from the center, and horns from both sides answered in turn as the long, stretched formation slowly began to advance.

[Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!]

Although their stomping wasn’t synchronized like a modern drill, their irregular footsteps blended together to create a powerful, resonant rhythm.

Calmly acknowledging that my ’21st century sensibilities’ still sought order in chaos, I watched the enemy archers release their bowstrings as I walked at the front of the formation.

“Enemy archers! Skjöld! (Shield)”

“Everyone raise shields!”

[Whizz- Thud! Thud-thud!]

The difference between elite troops and untrained ones is most evident on the battlefield by how attentive they are. In that regard, both my warriors and Ivar’s were all elite.

The formation halted in unison at my signal and quickly stacked their shields to block the incoming rain of arrows.

After the pleasant sound of arrows hitting shields ceased, we shook off those that had lodged themselves and, following Ivarr’s vigorous command to advance, gradually increased our speed as we climbed the slope.

“Skjöld!”

[Whizz- Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!]

“Áfram-!”

[Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!]

After repeating this cycle of arrow showers, stops, and shield defenses about four times, some men fell behind due to arrows penetrating areas their shields couldn’t protect. And, the once-straight formation began to become tangled in places.

“Halda línu! (Hold the line) Formation! Keep the formation!”

“O-din-!”

“Tyr-!”

However, soon minor issues like tangled formations or lagging warriors faded from everyone’s minds. At last, the shield wall of the Angles and the shield wall of the Norsemen had met.

“The Lord is with us! Hold!”

“We must not be pushed back!”

“Val-hal-la!”

“Push! Push forward!”

Now, all that remained were the shouts, sweat, and blood of people gritting their teeth as they thrust spears, hid behind shields, or hurled broken shafts at one another.

[Thud! Whoosh-]

At the front of the formation, being the first to make contact with the enemy, I suppressed my wildly beating heart to maintain as much calm as possible.

‘I will not be consumed by madness. I am human.’

Humans were animals that weaponized reason. Therefore, I calmly watched the Angle in front of me, whose face was contorted as if he might burst into tears at any moment, frantically scratching at the surface of my shield.

‘It’s nothing personal. This is just ‘work’.’

He tried to hide behind his shield in his own way, but with gaps everywhere, I couldn’t pinpoint where to thrust. So, relying on my training and combat experience, I quickly thrust my spear along the most likely path.

“Aaargh-!”

My enemy’s shield couldn’t keep up with the speed of my spear, and my spear, thrusting like lightning into the gap that his neighbor couldn’t cover in time, smoothly pierced his right shoulder without any resistance.

‘This is my chance.’

War was dominated by right-handed people.

As the enemy in front of me fell with a scream, my spear tip, already withdrawn from his body, pierced through the right chest of the man next to him. His shield, held by the fallen enemy’s left hand, had failed to protect him.

“Aaaagh-!”

[Thud-!]

‘That guy, did he scream before being stabbed?’

Was he perhaps descended from druids who could foresee their own future? After briefly entertaining this odd thought, I thrust like lightning into the gaps in the formation that continued to open before me after the two men had fallen.

[Thud! Thud! Thud!]

Aaaaargh-!

The exhilaration of battle surged through me, and a ringing sound filled my ears. Everything around me seemed to vanish, leaving only my spear, my shield, and myself in this world. I felt like I was gliding effortlessly through gentle waves, while everyone else drowned, overwhelmed by the demigod-like force I embodied.

[Thud!]

“Argh!”

As I thrust through another enemy, having shattered both the Angles’ battle line and their morale, I spotted their leader. Distant and atop a white horse, his face was a picture of fear and disbelief as he stared at me.

‘Edmund, you were at the front when the battle started, but now that people are dying, you’re just watching from the back!’

While it was fitting behavior for a king, to me, already consumed by the madness of battle, he appeared nothing more than a coward.

“Edmund-! I am Helgi, son of Ragnar! Face me! I am your death!”

After expelling the fierce fighting spirit that had surged through my entire being, I quickly reversed my grip on my spear and hurled it forcefully at Edmund, who was visibly startled and flustered by my shout.

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[Translator Notes]

War! Valhalla! Slaughter! Wa—Ahem, don’t know what befell me there. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The build-up is over!!! We’re finally getting to witness Helgi’s overwhelming strength. And, I for one, am extremely excited. How about you guys?

As usual, thanks for reading, and ping Oihs in the Arcane Translations discord for any grammar errors.

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Being a Viking Isn’t Fun

Being a Viking Isn’t Fun

Score 9.8
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: Released: 2022 Native Language: Korean
Life is about overcoming the waves that ceaselessly come crashing in, and yet the people of the North still live on today.

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Pe551
4 months ago

Let goooo!!!

Tibarias
1 month ago

WAR!!!

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