Before starting, I'd firstly like to thank MrsMagnusB, BrawlerGamer, TheGreatGodzilla, KaliAnn, and Becca771 for the reviews last chapter!
And secondly, just so you all know; the next chapter will be the main showdown between Hiccup and Mildew, so if you're enjoying this story thus far, then oh boy next chapter will be a fighting treat for you. ;)
Now, with that out of the way, let us continue on with our story...
Hiccup woke up the next morning feeling less pain throughout his body. He blinked his eyes slowly until his vision began to clear up, and he looked to his right and saw a large figure sitting next to him. At first his dizziness made it difficult for him to make out, but as that cleared up too he could soon tell who it was that sat near him on the wooden chair right by the bed.
It was Stoick.
The younger Viking used his arms and elbows to support him as he sat up against the wooden wall and pillow, tiredly gazing at Stoick with morning eyes.
"Ah, it's good to see you awake, lad." he said. "You passed out last night after Magnus left… it was horrible."
Hiccup gave a muffled sound as he nodded. "It's horrible enough to feel bolts of pain spread out through your arms and chest. Mildew could've cut my chest opened were it not for the fact that he had other matters to attend to. The cowardly old man, he-"
"I don't mean that, Hiccup." Stoick interrupted, giving off a sigh of stress. "It's about Magnus. The lad was… In deep anger last night. Deep hate."
"W- What happened?" stuttered Hiccup.
"When Magnus left my hut yesterday he had gone berserk and nearly went insane as he made his way to the other side of the village where all of the loyalists resided… it was a bloodbath." He then stopped for a moment and turned his head, staring his eyes into a nearby candle that was lit.
"Magnus went on a hunt and pursued Mildew's men, slaughtering as many loyalists as he could find. The lad should consider himself lucky that he got away. When he came back to me he was covered in blood…"
"How many loyalists did he say he slaughtered?"
"Twenty five." he responded coldly. "Nearly a fourth of Mildew's warriors, slain by a single man. When I saw the very few cuts that were on Magnus as well as the amount of blood that covered his face, I knew he fought like a real warrior. I knew that he was Viking."
Waking up to an early morning and already Hiccup was speechless from the news Stoick gave him. His friend - his brother in arms, Magnus, had gone berserk and slew a fourth of the loyalist population that served Mildew as his warriors and soldiers. And yet he managed to get away without sparing a single combatant and without being caught.
Hiccup looked back up at Stoick after some deep thinking. "Where is he now?" he asked.
"Back at his hut. He's… somewhat fine." answered the Chieftain. "Part of him however is scarred from the events that transpired last night. The killing, the thought of your torture at the hands of Mildew; it's made Magnus stressed. If I were you, I wouldn't disturb him for now."
Hiccup shook his head. "Well there has to at least be something which we can do. If this continues on, Ivar will…"
"Ivar is not going to take Berk." the large Viking assured him. "I will do everything in my power to stop him, even if I have to get rid of Mildew and his loyalists so we can have no more complications or inner conflict."
Hiccup nodded in the understanding of his words. And as he was about to say something to Stoick, the door to the room busted opened as both he and the Chief turned their heads to face the figure that stood outside the door. It was Astrid. She breathed rapidly, exhausted from sprinting over to Stoick's hut from wherever she came from.
"Astrid?" asked Hiccup. "What are you doing here?"
She crouched down, getting air back into her lungs until she managed to find the breath and words to stand up and speak. "Hiccup, Stoick." she began. "It's Mildew. He's making a move. The old man and his loyalists are gathered in the plaza, shouting for you to come out, Chief. He wants to make a demand with you."
Stoick's brows lowered with a grunt muffling from his mouth. His face turned into a pissed expression as he stood from his chair, grabbed his helmet and stormed out the room, with Astrid making way for the angry Chieftain.
Hiccup however expressed his confusion. "What does he want?" he asked.
Astrid shook her head with a frown. "He demands that Stoick fights him in the arena for the title and rank of Chieftain of the Hooligan Tribe. Mildew's gone insane after he heard about the slaughtering of his loyalists, and he wants to become the Chief."
"...Not unless I have something to say about it." he replied angrily, slowly standing up on his feet as he slid out of bed - despite the remaining pain there was in his body. "I may be injured, but I am not going to let this slide by. Snotlout holds the rightful position of becoming the Chief if Mildew kills Stoick, but the old man has gone too far this time."
"So then what are you going to do?" asked Astrid.
Hiccup responded as he slowly turned his head to face the surprised blonde girl. "Get my sword, Astrid. It's time that I make this right and do what must be done…"
…
The mighty Chieftain stood atop the great stairs, gazing upon the dozens of warrior-loyalists of whom were gathered and called to be rallied by Mildew's side, wanting to put down the Chieftain of Berk for good. The men all yelled and shouted threats at Stoick, throwing out their weapons and spitting at him as if he were nothing to them.
Mildew then banged the base of his staff into the snowy ground, ordering silence among the ranks, and then he stepped forward out of the crowd - wearing edgy-like robes that nearly cracked up Stoick upon view. But his serious thoughts got the better of him and Stoick kept a glare on Mildew.
"Stoick Haddock the Vast..." he began. "Ye ar' now viewed as nuthin' but a traitor an' ye've dun enough te make tha Hooligan Tribe weak! I demand tha' ye hand over tha rank o' Chieftain te me!"
"The only traitor here is you, Mildew." responded Stoick.
"You've done nothing but cause trouble for this town and its people. You have killed innocents for your own benefit and reputation, robbed houses under my nose for knowledge and value, and lied to your own men about being some arch-elder who can see visions like a prophet. You are no seer. You are a liar; for I should've exiled you long ago."
"FOOL!" one loyalist called out at Stoick.
"LIAR!" another shouted.
"SHAME OF YOU, HADDOCK!"
The crowd of loyalists soon started yelling at him again, and it took another hit of Mildew's staff to silence then.
"ENOUGH!" bellowed Mildew, glaring around at his men before he turned his direction towards Stoick again. "As I said, yer time o' Chiefin' is over. Either ye cen giv' up tha title an' rank of Chieftain, o' I cen challenge ye te combat an' take it from ye by force-"
A nearby voice echoed around the plaza, ceasing all voices from the loyalists' mouths, especially Mildew's. Hiccup walked towards the old man with Astrid by his side. "Not unless I have something to say about it." he said loudly.
The shepherd glared at Hiccup in confusion. He expected the young Viking to be dead, but how was he alive? "Bah! 'Ow's this possible?" he grumbled, and immediately his eyes fell back onto Stoick. "Ye 'elped 'im, didn't ye Stoick? Ye've sealed eur fate! Ivar's gunna-"
"He's going to come after all of us regardless of what you try, Mildew!" spat back Hiccup. "You don't know him as well as I do, and no matter what you do you cannot get him to leave, even if that involves trying to throw me off the island which you failed at doing!"
"Then I'll thruw ye off tha island meself if I cen't kill ye slowly first!"
Hiccup splurted, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the man. "And if you do so then you will risk your own life. After all, you have just admitted your crimes to the Chieftain."
"No I 'aven't!"
"Yes you DID, you old deaf bastard!" Hiccup bellowed, his tone getting louder. "You just said out loud that you'd throw me off the island if you couldn't slowly kill me first! That is what you did last night… you bound me, gouged cuts all over my body along, and gave me dark bruises! Then, you chained me between two piers in the harbor and left me to die in the cold!"
"An' wut proof do ye 'ave o' this, boy?" the old Viking asked with a smirk on his face. "Ye cen't prove tha' I took ye without 'aving sumbody as a witness-"
"Stop being a fool, Mildew! He has all the proof he needs!"
A distant voice from behind Mildew and his loyalists caught everyone's attention as they all turned around, only to see Magnus standing there, with Eira, Snotlout, Fishlegs, the Twins, and the Council right next to him. Glares beamed from their faces onto the traitor.
"Well, look 'hoo it is! If it isn't-!"
"Save your speech, liar." the young man interrupted. "We know that you took Hiccup and attempted to slowly kill him by leaving him shirtless and chained in the cold last night. His feet were inches in the freezing waters of the docks, and his wrists were red by the time we released him. To me, you're no different from Ivar the Boneless. You have clearly butchered people you found unworthy just to keep your putrid reputation standing, but your recent actions have just lowered them and you've done the opposite in trying to stop Ivar. In fact, you've become just like him, monster…"
Mildew was now speechless. He stood there in embarrassment in front of his loyalists from Magnus' speech. The younger Viking had been able to summarize everything which Mildew had done; damaging Hiccup, innocent people, and by whole the entirety of Berk. He had gone from an 'elderly shepherd' to a monster who was power-hungry for his reputation, and thirsty for the blood of any who publicly opposed him.
But now, it seemed all of Berk was now opposing him.
The old man snarled and grunted at Magnus. He turned his gaze towards his loyalists and shouted loudly; "KILL 'EM, BUTCHER 'EM, I WAN' TE SEE BLOOD!"
Immediately the loyalist warriors started to march and advance in all directions as they pointed their weapons out and raised their shields up in front of them. However, this would not sit through with Magnus as he unhooked a horn from his belt and blew it loudly.
The blowing noise echoed around the area, and the loyalists quickly stopped their march, looking around as another sound joined along with the horn after a moment had passed. A stomping sound of multiple feet was heard once, and then again, and then again, and then again… and soon it became obvious.
It was marching.
From around all corners, multitudes of soldiers came storming heavily into the plaza, wearing tabards that represented the island of Berk, and the Hooligan Tribe as a whole. Their boots hitting the snowy ground intimidated the loyalists as Mildew looked from left to right, watching the warriors fill into the plaza until he and his loyalists were surrounded.
Spears were now pointed directly at the warrior-loyalists, and if they attempted to strike then they would easily be overwhelmed by greater numbers and greater skill, thus the loyalists without order laid down their arms.
Mildew looked back at them in surprise, and a glare became clear on his face as he looked back at Magnus. "Gah! 'Ow did ye do this!? 'Ow wus this possible-"
"There's this thing called sneaking, Mildew." answered Snotlout as he stepped forward, wiping his hands in a taunting manner. "When I saw you and your loyalists first gather in the plaza, my warriors were already gathered at the arena to do some combat training. And when the news of your move was given to me, I knew that you left yourself exposed in one place."
"Ye planned this!"
Eira then replied, "Yes he planned it, it's something that you always fail to do, Mildew."
"An' it is clear ta I an' tha Council tha' y'ave committed treason against Berk an' tha Hooligan Tribe." stated Gobber. "Ya have little choice but ta surrender, Mildew. It is over."
"Wait." said Hiccup as he walked forward in front of the crowd of loyalists, stopping until he was several feet away from Mildew.
"As much as I know, these loyalists will remain loyal as long as Mildew lives." he stated to the Council. "Thus, I believe a different course of action is in order."
"Wut do ye mean, boy?" Mildew asked gutturally.
"...I challenge you to a duel to the death, Mildew! A duel that will decide who will be humiliated. If I win, you are humiliated in front of the whole village. And if you win, you may leave Berk along with your loyalists and I shall be humiliated."
Gasps were let out from both the loyalist and the Hooligan warriors, all of them surprised from hearing Hiccup's response and offer to Mildew. Even Astrid became tense from his words.
She shook her head. "Hiccup, you can't just-!"
"Very well, then, 'Iccup." laughed Mildew. "I accept yer challenge o' a fight' te tha death, but only on one condition. An' tha' is tha' we fight tha duel with regular Iron blades!"
Astrid and Stoick's eyes widened. They knew that if Hiccup was to take the challenge then he wouldn't be able to use the sword Magnus gave to him. He would stand less of a chance against Mildew, yet more equal.
Silence followed as Hiccup didn't say a word. No one said a word. Mildew just looked at him with a glaring smile, expecting the young Viking to think twice about making the offer to fight him to the death… but instead the opposite happened.
The words that came out of Hiccup's mouth were;
"I agree to your terms, Mildew… tomorrow we shall fight in the arena, and see who comes out the victor."
…
Ivar drank from his mug of ale with the other four greater Chieftains as they saw hundreds of Völsung Vikings board ship after ship, with General Olaf at the front of the ranks leading them aboard.
Adding on to the thousand Völsung warriors, each of the Nordic, Germanic, and Rus' tribes that had allied with Ivar had devoted a hundred men to the vessels of the first invading force, thus the first wave would be increased by three times the amount.
The Völsung Chieftain leaned back in his wooden chair, turning his eyes upon his General. "How much longer, Olaf?" he asked.
The General turned to face the Chieftain. "We're almost ready, Chieftain. We have yet to load the new weapons that Chief Vlar had crafted onto the iron cog ships."
All of the greater Chieftains, including Ivar, gazed at Vlar with grins on their faces as they chuckled in proud tones. "You have done well, Chief Vlar of the Iron Wolf Tribe." complimented Ivar.
"I do what I can, my King; in the name of the Great Viking Army." the large Chieftain responded in assurance. "I have crafted seven of these finest siege weapons, and as I said; it will blast the Dragons out of the sky."
Karvein, the Chieftain of the Bloody Berserkers arched a brow. "What else can it do?" he asked. "Can it… run over our enemies like a giant boulder and splatter their blood all over?"
Vlar laughed in amusement. "Well, those are what the large iron wheels are for, Chieftain Karvein. It may shoot blasts of fiery metal, it may run over and crush our enemies, it may act like a moving spiked-barricade, and it is as a whole; a killing war machine."
Frode, the Chieftain of the Dark Eye Tribe smirked. "How intriguing…" he smiled. "I sense that the gods are interested in this new… invention. They believe it will be a weapon of destruction against the Dragons, our enemy Vikings, and overall this... Archipelago."
As the Chief of the Broken Axe grinded a sharpening stone against his prosthetic axe-blade, he changed his glance from his weapon to Vlar. "What did you say they were called again?" asked Hjalmar. "You said it was a…"
"It's called a Devastator, Hjalmar." he answered. "The base of the weapon was made to look like one of those Roman Tanks that the Romans made with their shields. And as I said before; it has four wheels attached to it like a cart, it has spikes sticking out at the front, and it holds the most devastating part atop the base that'll fire upon our enemies, thus its named; the Devastator."
"Interesting." said Ivar. "And did you test it out yet?"
"Aye, and it works like a beauty."
The young Chieftain chuckled, grasping his hands in a clap. "Then we shall have no problem when our first invasion force turns the pathetic islands of the Archipelago into ash and rubble. I will enjoy tasting our enemies' blood when we meet them in battle…"
As Ivar leaned further back in his chair, his attention soon fell back onto Olaf who approached the Chieftain with a nod. "All three thousand of our warriors are set and aboard the ships, and the Devastators are successfully mounted on the seven cog ships. We await your command, King Ivar."
"So be it…" grinned Ivar as he stood from his seat, glancing at the dozens and dozens of ships that were ready to depart. The young Chieftain closed his eyes; he inhaled some air, and then exhaled deeply and opened his eyes - his smile was now extended from cheek to cheek.
"Let the invasion, BEGIN!"