Dragonborn Chapter 329: Supernova
A/n: This is extra of 5K votes. there is still one more extra of a patron but will have to wait a bit.
Last night, the Foresworn besieged Old Hroldan. The next day, they besieged the mountain North to it as Wulfur and his band were hiding in a high cave. The fight started once Wulfur eliminated Grosh by shouting him from the mountain. Alaric was enraged as he took his people and climbed the mountain from every direction.
“Chief… it was an honor.”
“They may not know what happened to us so let’s carve one hell of a scar on those witchmen. Let’s make our name reach far an wide.”
Wulfur’s men were in high spirits despite the situation.
“None of you fuckers is going to die. That’s an order.” Wulfur was the only one who is feeling the pressure.
The men smiled as they took their last order from him.
Wulfur felt his breastplate and pressed on the Amulet of Mara he bought from Whiterun, he was going to use it to propose to Bjorna once he returns.
“We are not dying today. You fucks are going to serve mead at my wedding.”
“And we are going to party for three days straight. I want to shame the fanciest weddings ever happened before mine.”
He then raised his hammer and spear and howled a War Cry.
“KILL THEM ALL!”
With his savage cry, the seven Nord young men swarmed down the slope clashing head-on with Alaric’s men.
Wulfur threw the spear and skewered six then waved his hammer and crushed three heads and by using his momentum, a kick from him launched a man like loosen kite down the mountain.
10 Foresworn, one breath!
‘Now that I think about it. The weapon Jon called a glave would have helped in this situation.’
A funny idea crossed his mind before he killed another seven in one breath again. He moved like a killing machine and the six behind him barely caught up. The would even hide behind him if it was too much for them.
“Nord! I am coming for you! You will pay for what you did to my brother.” A loud shout reached Wulfur.
“Ha! Come at me, midget sissy. Once my brother learns of what happens this day. You Foresworn will face extension.” Wulfur replied to Alaric.
The two men had their brothers at the center of their universe and would move mountains for them. Wulfur kept it in his heart that if anything happens to him, Jon would be here to avenge him.
He howled atop of his lungs once again and started killing whoever or whatever came in his way. His hammer, the [Champion’s Cudgel], descended left and right and harvested lives as if an instrument of the Old Knocker (Nordic Grim Reaper). Alaric tried to stop Wulfur’s momentum but he miserably failed. Wulfur was simply an unstoppable beast.
“How can a man get this strong dammit!?”
Frustrated, Alaric looked back at the Hagravens that had some twisted smiles on their faces. They seemed to be plotting for something.
Wulfur’s admirable last stand was astonishingly successful, with six men guarding his back, he was simply hacking and slashing with a heavy weapon into lightly armored enemies taking down a considerable number of them.
But like all good things, that came to an end.
He was standing with all around him turning red, the grass beneath his feet, the hammer in his hand, and his armor was bright red under the red glow of the setting sun, but more importantly, all his men behind him were lying on the ground with peaceful faces.
“Damn! Sovngarde already?”
Wulfur didn’t feel bad the slightest despite how he thought, despite how he was surrounded by enemies, despite that Demonic thing in front of him.
The Hagravens called it Leshen. A walking giant thing made of wood and its head was a skull of an animal. It hit the ground with its hands and roots came out like spikes.
Wulfur avoided the spikes but it skewered all the fallen bodies and started consuming them.
“Damn you! Grant me power, All-Maker!”
Wulfur called for the All-Maker and the blessing he was saving got activated. [Bones of Earth], the blessing that he got in Solstheim and with it, he can get the spirits of the land to protect him.
He waved his hammer at the Leshen causing the enchantment to activate and made fire damage. Valuable to the fire, the Leshen made a grim screech but soon the fire was down and it attacked Wulfur again.
“Hold him, don’t let him move.”
Alaric rallied his men once again to finally stop Wulfur but the latter was relentless and unstoppable. He waved his hammer in circles and reached out to any weapon coming at him throwing it back at anyone’s head.
Darkness enveloped the world and the last of the sun rays died as it disappeared behind the horizon, Wulfur was a lone warrior on a hill of corpses of his making suffering more wounds than anyone. He soon would fall to dizziness and fatigue before falling to his enemies.
It was his final minute and darkest hour, feeling the hand of the Old Knocker ripping through his chest and claiming his soul, Wulfur knew it was the time to stop.
He had done enough.
Still, where did that warmth come from?
It tingled his skin and bathed him with energy once again. Not sure how, when Wulfur opened his eyes he saw the impossible.
Not only him was looking, but it was also every Foresworn around him frozen solid from the shock.
The Sun was rising back from where it sat.
Jon was in the air hovering above the Reach. He Teleported in Markarth just a while ago from Solitude by the secret Teleportation Array of the College.
With no certain plan on his mind, he kept traveling from one place to the other at the highest speed his Flame Atronach Hawk can muster. He even sent Hawk Familiars around the reach to search for Wulfur.
Any single Trace of battle was his to look at but it wasn’t as if he didn’t find any, he actually found a lot.
The Foresworn were fighting literally everywhere. Nord warrior and Foresworn clashed nearly at all places. The Bridge over Karth river in front of Markarth city was fortified, the villages were tightly guarded, the travelers were being ambushed, even he was being shot arrows at as he was in the air.
“What is this chaos?”
It was impossible that Erikur managed to create all this chaos to get rid of him. It was also impossible that his Labour was behind all that. He knew his Fate was fortified and the Daedra can’t screw him that much, also Azura wasn’t that kind of Daedra.
Making him Labor for her was only a way for him to be redeemed. Even Azura can use him to settle any business she deems important without worrying about a loss of a champion but things are getting way too complicated right now and his head can’t process all that, he needed to focus on finding Wulfur first.
“She said it is a village surrounded by danger but though its old name, it survived the long years. There, brothers unite and brothers separate.”
Jon thought fast but couldn’t remember a village with an old name, he wasn’t good with history but he remembered something related to ‘brothers’.
In the olden days, the founder of the Septim Empire, The Great Tiber Septim, had fought his first official battle here in the Reach. At that time, he had a sworn brother called Hroldan who died in that battle. Even after Tiber Septim became the Emperor and conquered the High Elves to achieve the Apotheosis by mantling Lorkhan and becoming Talos, he still owed a debt to Hroldan.
Jon could only think of one place where brothers unite and brothers separate, the place where Hroldan fell.
Old Hroldan village!
He faced the east and flew with all his might trying to catch a glimpse of it and there it was. Just at the time of sunset, Jon could see the town with barely few buildings intact but it was abandoned.
Jon felt a sense of crisis but he kept looking around like a madman. There were too many corpses to check.
“Jon, there is a trial over there.”
Nefertiti picked up traces of battle and Jon started to follow from the sky and soon he saw it… Wulfur alone in a horde of enemies.
“Take Greed. Get him.” Jon sent Nefertiti with Greed and raised both his hands up.
His Magicka ran wild in his body and all gathered at the two output points on his palms. The spell he was casting was over his level but if he gave it his all, he will make it.
The Sun faded behind him just as his spell started to form. Nefertiti reached Wulfur and used Greed from the shadow to skewer anyone that tried to harm him. Then the spell formed.
A bright fireball formed around him swallowing everything as if the Sun had risen once again. The people on the ground all looked up towards him, Wulfur, the Foresworn, the Hagravens, that strange wooden creature… everyone was looking at the Sun that rose from the west.
The Sun exploded in a bright and colorful manner. Blue, purple and red lights came from the explosions forming a beautiful scene that people would worship despite knowing that death was imminent.
Nefertiti enveloped Wulfur with Greed. The Hagravens enveloped themselves and Alaric with the Leshen and held to the ground… and the sky was lit from the land.