Riding through the snow-covered path, Edward and his men were swallowed into the winter mist.
Edward ordered his soldiers to make a Wing-T formation. He rode at the front while the king remained in the centre. The rest of the soldiers surrounded them from both sides as they made their way toward Hilt Castle.
The road ahead was barely visible beneath the thick snow. Every step the horses took sank deep into the frozen ground. A cold wind swept through the forest, carrying nothing but silence.
The trees that lined the road stood dead and bare. Their twisted branches stretched toward the grey dreary sky like bony fingers. Not a single leaf clung to them.
Edward tightened his grip on the horse's rein.
Something about the silence felt wrong.
For nearly thirty minutes they rode through the frozen wilderness without seeing another soul. Then, through the thick mist, the dark walls of Hilt Castle finally appeared.
The fortress towered above the snowy landscape. Even from a distance it looked grim and unwelcoming, like a giant watching over a land long forgotten.
Edward pulled out the purple flag and raised it high.
The flag of peace.
A Viking guard standing atop the watchtower spotted the approaching riders. His eyes widened. He stared for a moment as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Then he turned and rushed down the tower.
The doors of the throne room burst open.
A guard stumbled inside, breathing heavily.
At the far end of the hall sat Erik Ragnar, the feared leader of the Vikings.
He rested upon a large throne carved from black oak. The walls around him were decorated with shields, weapons, and banners taken from the kingdoms he had conquered throughout the years.
"My lord!" the guard shouted.
Erik slowly lifted his head.
"What is it?" he asked.
"My lord, the Acyutans have arrived. They are standing outside the castle gates."
For a few moments, Erik said nothing.
Then a faint grin appeared on his face.
Laughing, he rose from his throne.
"I had foreseen this act of their king."
The guard looked confused.
Erik chuckled softly.
"Their king was always going to try this."
He picked up his fur cloak and draped it over his shoulders before making his way toward the castle entrance.
Outside the gates, Edward and the king waited as snow drifted from the sky.
After several minutes, a guard appeared on the watchtower above them.
"State your purpose," he called out.
The king looked up.
"We have come to speak with your leader."
The guard studied them for a moment before disappearing from sight once again.
Edward kept his eyes fixed on the towering gates.
Something felt off.
The castle looked different now that he was standing before it. Darker. The stone walls were stained black, and the air around the fortress carried an unnatural coldness.
A chill ran down his spine.
Not because of the winter.
Because of the feeling that something inside those walls was waiting for them.
After ten whole minutes of waiting, the gates opened.
They rode forward into the castle.
As they rode along the paved roads inside, guards on the walls looked down at them — confused and shocked, some of them furious.
In the interior of the castle, noble houses stood looted and destroyed. They could hear the screams of women coming from those broken homes.
But this was not the time. They could only ride forward, prisoners of circumstance. The walls they passed felt less like stone and more like a snare slowly closing around them.
They were being followed by guards.
The first guard spoke in a low, stunned voice.
"Am I dreaming? I can't believe my eyes — the Acyutans are really here."
The second guard's eyes moved to the knight at the front of the column.
"We have other things to worry about. You see that knight up front? That is the Immortal Dragon."
The third guard's voice dropped to almost nothing.
"Is he the one who defeated the Vritra?"
A silence fell between them.
The first guard said it again, as if he needed to hear it out loud to believe it.
"Is he the one who defeated Vritra?"