The Rise of Iceland #1-100
Author: 夏虫之语
Date: 2026-01-16T04:57:59+00:00

Chapter 1: Golden-Haired Olaf

June 1627, Julian Calendar

The Seltjarnarnes Peninsula in Iceland, located about ten kilometers south of Reykjavik, the island’s major port city, was a fertile land due to its proximity to the harbor. The peninsula, spanning hundreds of miles, was dotted with small villages, making it one of the more densely populated areas in Iceland.

The Dark Middle Ages had ended, and the world was now in the Age of Exploration, undergoing rapid changes. Cultures and beliefs across nations were evolving at a breakneck pace.

Yet, life in Iceland remained slow and peaceful, as if untouched by time, seemingly unaffected by its incorporation into the Danish-Norwegian Union in 1262.

Over the centuries, the number of villages on the Seltjarnarnes Peninsula had only increased by three. Each village had a population of around thirty to fifty or sixty people, with the largest, the White Hazel Forest Hrut Village, housing just over a hundred. Originally a large estate called Hrutstakki, it had transformed into scattered villages as more freemen settled there.

On the northern side of the peninsula lay fertile fields. It was summer, and the wheat in these fields had begun to form ears, though sparse, swaying gently in the warm sea breeze, a pleasant sight.

Although Iceland enjoyed warm sea breezes blowing from west to east, it was still on the edge of the Arctic Circle. The warm months lasted only from May to October, with the most suitable period for crop growth being from late May to September.

To the east of the vast fields was a small hill covered with white hazel trees. These trees, native to the cold regions of Siberia, were drought-resistant shrubs that didn’t grow very tall. Their only advantage was producing nuts rich in oils and starches, a rare delicacy in Iceland.

Under one of these white hazel trees sat a boy around ten years old, dressed in a white linen shirt and pants, with a deer fur coat draped over his shoulders. His golden hair, shimmering like threads of gold, looked even more stunning in the sunlight.

Beneath his thick brows, his deep-set eyes held a pair of bright, gem-like blue pupils. His high nose bridge, thin lips, and fair skin marked him as a typical North Germanic Viking.

The boy’s name was Olaf Haldorsson, the second son of Haldor, the leader of the White Hazel Forest Hrut Village. With his striking golden hair, he was known as Golden-Haired Olaf.

Though only ten years old, Olaf had grown to nearly five feet tall due to good nutrition and inheriting his father’s tall and sturdy genes. At first glance, he looked like an ordinary fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy.

In an era where the average European height was under five feet, the Germanic people of Scandinavia, Iceland, and Denmark were among the tallest, with nearly half of the men standing just under five and a half feet.

Olaf’s father and uncle were both over six feet five inches tall, earning them the nickname “Big Guys.”

Olaf sat on a bare rock under the white hazel tree, holding a charcoal stick and scribbling on a stack of yellowed paper, occasionally muttering to himself.

If someone could peek over Olaf’s shoulder, they would see that the paper was filled with square characters. A merchant who had traded in the distant Ming Dynasty might recognize them as similar to Chinese script.

“In the year 1627, China is in the Tianqi or Chongzhen era of the Ming Dynasty. The Ming Dynasty will fall in 1644.

From what I know, Ming China is still the most powerful, prosperous, and civilized nation in the world. Now is the Age of Exploration. The European Middle Ages have long ended, and the power of the Roman Pope has greatly diminished. The emergence of Protestantism, also known as Christianity, has further weakened the Church’s control over the monarchy. Denmark and Iceland are currently under the Lutheran Church.

However, one of the most developed regions in Europe, Paris, is probably still littered with garbage, sewage, and water sources teeming with E. coli. Living in the idyllic Iceland is not a bad place. There are no mosquitoes or cockroaches, and the Black Death has never ravaged here. The environment is good, and as long as one doesn’t catch a cold or worse, they can live a long life. The only downside is that life is monotonous, and material goods are extremely scarce. Without trading sheep wool and hides for flour, timber, and cloth with England and Denmark, life would be difficult.”

This journal-like notebook was written by Olaf, but he was not an ordinary Icelander with a blank slate of a mind.

Since birth, Olaf had retained memories from his past life. He clearly remembered being a drifter in Yanjing, China, working as a security guard, a stock clerk, a salesman, and buying CDs. His only hobby was history, though he often forgot what he read.

Reborn in Iceland, Olaf knew he had to make the most of this life. From the age of one, he worked hard to learn Icelandic and adapt to the local lifestyle, striving to become a true Icelander.

Olaf was indeed clever. He could speak at one year old, form sentences at one and a half, and express his needs clearly by two. This delighted his parents, Haldor and Katrin, and made his relatives and neighbors proud. In a place like Iceland, any unusual event was treasured.

By the age of three, Olaf could live independently as long as there was food at home.

After turning two, Olaf began using leftover charcoal from the family hearth to record historical knowledge, timelines, and various technologies he remembered. At first, he wrote Chinese characters on the stone walls of his small house, then on old sheepskin, and recently, he had obtained rough but usable paper.

Olaf had initially thought himself brilliant for remembering the formula for gunpowder (one part saltpeter, two parts sulfur, three parts charcoal), and the processes for making porcelain, brewing alcohol, vinegar, and paper. He could also recall basic physics and chemistry. However, he soon realized that knowing the procedures and basics wasn’t enough; successful operations would require countless trials and specific tools. After understanding Iceland’s backward social level, Olaf gave up on these ideas.

Thus, Olaf’s dream of using his advanced knowledge to develop industries and get rich quickly was shattered early on.

Now, Olaf focused on writing down as much knowledge and historical events as he could remember, hoping to use his foresight for political speculation, perhaps reaching the pinnacle of life and becoming a notable figure in history books, rather than being summed up as just another Icelander.

Last night, Olaf discussed the family’s only merchant ship with his father and learned that the ship’s hull was severely damaged by shipworms, requiring a significant amount of money for timber repairs. Much of the earnings from two trips to England this spring had been spent on these repairs.

Olaf had a sleepless night, recalling articles he had read in his past life about treating shipworms. Early the next morning, he came out to record methods to deal with shipworms that could be immediately applied.

European sailors still used traditional methods to prevent shipworms, such as soaking wood in tar, pitch, and glue. However, over time, these methods proved ineffective against shipworms.

Olaf knew of three methods. The first was soaking wood in copper sulfate and then applying tung oil, which was very effective but impossible to obtain in Iceland. The second was sheathing the hull in copper or iron, which was also effective but too expensive and beyond the current shipbuilding technology’s capacity. The third method was simple: sailing into a frozen freshwater river to kill the shipworms with cold and freshwater. However, this method required at least three months, and no one could afford to idle their ship for that long.

The third method was the most suitable for Olaf’s family.

Iceland’s winters were unproductive, with no agricultural activities. The persistent sub-zero temperatures and frequent snow made it unsuitable for outdoor activities, forcing Icelanders to stay indoors, eating, drinking, and sleeping until spring, when they would resume their lives, perhaps as pirates, merchants, or farmers.

Olaf thought that before winter arrived, Haldor could sail the ship into the Hvítá River and leave it there. By the following spring, all the shipworms would be dead.

Feeling satisfied with this idea, Olaf carefully put away his precious notebook and left the ancestral white hazel forest, heading towards the eastern village.

Note: In ancient Europe, the units of length were based on steps and feet. An inch, or a cun, was the width of the thumb joint. Later, in the 13th century, King Edward II of England established the “Standard Legal Inch”: the length of three large barleycorns placed end to end, which is about 25.4 mm. Twelve inches make one foot.

Chapter 2: Bad News

Olaf walked eastward along the gravel path beside the wheat fields for a few hundred meters. After passing through a birch forest, he saw a cluster of charming grass-roofed houses—twenty-seven or twenty-eight in total, some larger, some smaller.

These houses were built with thick stone walls, each five or six feet wide, covered in grass and wildflowers, some even blooming with small yellow blossoms. They looked like something out of a fairy tale.

This style of turf house had been built for seven or eight hundred years. The ancestors had constructed them with thick stone walls and grass roofs to ensure durability and insulation—warm in winter and cool in summer. It was a testament to the wisdom of Iceland’s forefathers in their struggle against harsh weather.

Olaf approached the village slowly. At the entrance, several elderly women in their fifties were sunbathing while sewing. They greeted him warmly.

“Golden-haired young master is back!”

“Olaf, your mother is looking for you.”

“Olaf, you’ve grown taller again!”

Their kind teasing brought a smile to Olaf’s face. He replied playfully, “Aunt Yaldur, be careful—Old Galdur might drink too much and hit you again. Aunt Vinilrod, when will you make me a pair of pants? Big-eyed sister, your work isn’t looking too good.”

After exchanging a few jokes with the villagers, Olaf continued inside. Along the way, he chatted with others—men and women busy watering their beetroot, spinach, and radishes. These three vegetables were the only ones that could grow in Iceland’s summer climate, so everyone planted at least some.

The village had about one hundred and fifty people, mostly descendants of seven ancient families. Over time, intermarriage had made nearly everyone related, so the villagers were all familiar and close with one another.

Olaf greeted everyone warmly. The younger ones especially enjoyed talking to him.

A red-haired, freckled boy of thirteen or fourteen, wearing a tattered and oversized robe, hurried over. “Olaf, your mother’s looking for you! Word is, someone from Reykjavik—the biggest port city in Iceland, the ‘Bay of Smokes’—brought bad news.”

This boy was Lixstrom, one of Olaf’s best friends. His father, Jot, was the village’s only carriage merchant, owning a large wagon that transported people between nearby villages.

“Tom, who did you fight this time?” Olaf asked, frowning at the mud stains on Lixstrom’s clothes.

Though Lixstrom was a few years older, he was Olaf’s loyal follower. He scowled. “This morning, while you were gone, Big-Head Olin from Will Village came with his gang. Last time, you led us in beating them up, but today, without you, we got the worst of it. How about we go settle the score this afternoon?”

White Hazel Forest Hrut Village had over a hundred people, divided into more than thirty households. There were over forty children between the ages of seven and seventeen, and excluding the girls and those under seven, about twenty boys. Nearly all of them were Olaf’s followers.

Olaf was clever, tall for his age, and strong. Though he had only studied ancient poetry with the village’s old poet and attended a few days of school at the southern church, he spoke clearly and persuasively. The children all knew Olaf’s words were more accurate and compelling than even the adults’.

Over the past two years, the village boys had followed Olaf in fights against neighboring villages and never lost. Olaf knew how to dig traps, where to strike for maximum pain, and even some advanced fighting techniques.

Thus, all the boys in the village respected Olaf and willingly followed him.

Olaf and Lixstrom were about the same height. He dusted off Lixstrom’s clothes and said, “No need to rush revenge. I’ll go home first and see what’s happening.”

“Good idea. You’re always right, Olaf,” Lixstrom said, wiping his nose before turning to leave.

Olaf quickened his pace and soon entered a large courtyard with three turf houses. The walls were made of stone and wood, covered inside and out with grass and wildflowers. In the stable stood a mixed-breed Shire draft horse—no longer as strong as it once was, but still with sturdy hooves.

“Thank goodness, Olaf, you’re finally back!”

As soon as Olaf entered the courtyard, a slender middle-aged woman with golden hair emerged from the eastern house. She was Katrin, Olaf’s mother.

Like other village matriarchs, Katrin was strict and harsh with her children—except for Olaf, whom she treated with unusual courtesy, as if he were already an adult.

Olaf followed his mother inside and saw his tall, broad-shouldered father, Haldor, sitting at a wooden table with a troubled expression. Across from him sat a short, middle-aged man with curly black hair and a sparse beard. Though thin, he had a lively spirit.

“Olaf, this is your other uncle, Hoskuld. He and your Uncle Kadir are half-brothers, sharing the same mother. He lives in Reykjavik, the Bay of Smokes.”

Haldor introduced Hoskuld to Olaf, then turned to Hoskuld and said, “Olaf, you’ve heard of him—my son, a prodigy, a genius, a treasure bestowed by our ancestor Hrut. I think you should tell him the bad news you’ve brought.”

Hoskuld suddenly laughed, his eyes gleaming as he looked at Olaf. He didn’t underestimate the young boy; instead, he stood up and patted Olaf’s sturdy shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re Olaf. You’re only ten? You look taller and stronger than my sixteen-year-old son! I’ve heard about you—brilliant from birth, skilled at solving problems. Maybe you’re the reincarnation of an ancestor’s spirit,” he added in a hushed tone.

After all, Iceland was now under the light of the Lord. Though many Icelanders still worshipped their ancestral gods alongside Christianity, openly declaring such beliefs challenged the dominance of the Church. While burning heretics was no longer common, the governor would still punish such talk severely—confiscating property, whipping, or even imprisonment.

Hoskuld quickly continued, “Your father is lucky. I’ll tell you what I’ve learned. Your family’s old enemy, Sigfoss, has suddenly struck gold—his daughter married the new Governor of Iceland, Kolsvin. Now his family is connected to someone powerful, and they’re strutting around like peacocks. Sigfoss has always wanted to seize your property. Seven years ago, he failed, but now he’s declared that his son-in-law, Governor Kolsvin, will take your assets. Soon, the governor might call a court assembly to discuss your case.”

Hoskuld took a quick sip of beer from the wooden cup on the table.

“Oh, this is not good news at all,” Olaf said, frowning. Now he understood why his usually cheerful father looked so troubled.

Olaf sat on a stone bench, pondering the bad news his uncle had just delivered. He knew that if it were true, his family’s survival was now uncertain.

Olaf wasn’t foolish enough to spout modern ideals like democracy, freedom, or revolution. In a Europe plagued by war, rigid hierarchies, and bloodline politics, talking about such things would only get him crushed by feudalism’s iron fist and thrown into the dustbin of history.

Was the hangman’s noose too soft? Were the stones for crushing too weak? Was the fire for burning heretics not hot enough? Were the executioner’s blades not sharp enough?

Chapter 3: Feudal Society Devours People

Olaf was a typical second-generation rich and official heir in Iceland. His father, Haldor, held the hereditary right to lead White Hazel Forest Hrut Village, a privilege passed down from his ancestors. Centuries ago, his ancestor Hrut had been the owner and leader of this land, bearing the title of Godi, meaning a noble and god-fearing man.

Godi, whether major or minor, held authority over the local estate’s population, land resources, and even the interpretation and judgment of the law. They were the rulers of Iceland.

Thus, Hrut, known as the “Grey Cloak Jarl,” had been a leader in the Althing, Iceland’s self-governing assembly, responsible for governing the Seltjarnarnes Peninsula.

Later, when Iceland submitted to the Danish-Norwegian Kingdom, the Godi chiefs became mere local gentry, at most holding positions akin to village heads, but their power was greatly diminished.

Then, due to various reasons—primarily the Black Death, which reduced the population—more free peasants emerged in Europe. Although they could still be exploited, their status was essentially equalized.

In Iceland, too, there were large landowners and free peasants. Poor free peasants still worked as servants or tenant farmers for the landowners, though they now had contracts.

For minor landowners and lesser nobles, their power continued to shrink.

When the hereditary chieftainship passed to Haldor, Olaf’s father, it was reduced to nothing more than the title of village head. The former servants had long since become free peasants, most owning their own land. Yet, out of old loyalty, the villagers still respected Haldor.

If things had remained this way, Olaf could have lived a carefree life as a landowner’s heir. But when he was nearly three years old, a great misfortune struck the family. Haldor lost more than half of the three hundred virgate units of land he controlled.

Haldor had three sisters and one brother. His brother, Haig, was even taller and stronger than Haldor. Both brothers had trained in their ancestors’ swordsmanship, wrestling, and horsemanship—skills every proper Viking pirate should master. However, Haig was clearly more proficient.

From a young age, Haig had been better at fighting. During raids at sea, he had killed many merchant guards. His brutality and aggression had earned him a fearsome reputation across the Seltjarnarnes Peninsula.

This continued until Olaf was two and a half. Haig killed a man in a duel over a woman. If the victim had been a free peasant or a minor landowner, the matter would have been quickly settled.

But the man was the son of a powerful chieftain in Reykjavik, a family with centuries of heritage. Their ancestors had even produced a cardinal in Iceland. Their influence was at least ten times greater than Haldor’s. Worse, the deceased was the godson of the then-Cardinal of Iceland. At the time, the Danish-Norwegian Kingdom had not yet converted to Protestantism, and the Catholic bishops in Iceland held immense power.

Killing the cardinal’s godson, who was also the son of a powerful chieftain in Reykjavik, meant Haig’s fate was sealed. He would be arrested by the Governor of Iceland and hanged in the great port.

After the killing, Haig immediately fled back to White Hazel Forest Hrut Village and confessed to his elder brother, Haldor. The two brothers decided that Haig should leave Iceland by ship.

Their chosen destination was Greenland. Norway and Denmark were out of the question, and the Kingdom of Scotland in Britain, which was promoting Protestantism, sought the support of its neighbors and maintained good relations with Denmark. Going there would not save Haig. Only the remote Greenland, a lawless land, was an option. Though nominally under Danish rule, Denmark had not even sent a governor there due to its sparse population and resources.

Olaf knew that Denmark and Norway later followed the example of colonial powers like Britain and established the Greenland Company to colonize Greenland. Thus, Haig’s escape there would not be a permanent solution.

After some thought, Olaf decided to change his father and uncle’s plans. But he was not yet three years old. Even if they considered him a prodigy, they would never listen to a child in such a grave matter.

Then, Olaf remembered the ancient Norse myths that the Vikings still believed in to some extent. Suddenly, he had an idea.

Olaf grabbed a scroll of sheepskin, burst through the door, and began singing the prelude to an ancient battle song. Then, he placed the sheepskin on his head and sang:

*“Sleep has fled my eyes, the war god’s axe hangs before me,

Brave Hrut stirs from slumber, in spring, swords drown Haig in green fields,

I cannot accept this, so I offer you these words of counsel.”*

Olaf’s eerie performance instantly stunned Haldor, Katrin, Haig, and his elder brother, Ulf.

No one would have expected a two-and-a-half-year-old child to put on such a show. Even if Olaf was a genius, no adult in their world could have pulled off such a performance. Everyone realized that the ancestral spirit of Hrut had awakened within Olaf.

According to Viking legend, brave ancestors who died would be taken by the war god to his hall. When their descendants faced great peril, the ancestral spirit would manifest in the most outstanding descendant. Haldor and Haig never imagined that this myth would come true.

But Olaf’s performance left them no choice but to believe. They understood that if Haig went to Greenland, he would be killed. So, they begged their ancestor Hrut to guide them.

Olaf continued in a mournful tone:

*“The Vikings once reached the farthest land, Vinland, where the family’s glory shall be reborn,

I recall Vinland’s fertile soil, I recall the Skraelings, the best of slaves,

Before going to Vinland, first go to Britain, where countless desperate men await,

They are the best of slaves, take up arms.”*

After Olaf repeated the song more than ten times, Haig and the others finally deciphered its meaning.

They unanimously believed that their ancestor Hrut was directing Haig to seek refuge in Vinland, the land of ancient legends. Vinland lay southwest of Greenland, abundant in rare treasures, primitive natives, fertile land, and game. Their ancestor wanted Haig to first go to Scotland to recruit poor, landless farmers to join him in Vinland, where they would capture natives as slaves, farm, and establish a colony. In the previous century, Spain and Portugal had grown wealthy through overseas colonization, and Haig and Haldor knew that while colonization was risky, the rewards were immense.

With the ancestor’s prophecy, Haig and Haldor immediately changed their plans.

Haldor gave Haig their largest brigantine, a ship suitable for both trade and piracy, along with two thousand four hundred marks of silver. He also sent several of their most capable servants and his eldest son, Ulf, with Haig. His only request was that Haig follow their ancestor’s guidance, settle in Vinland, and prosper.

The next morning, Haig took the family’s accumulated wealth and ship and set sail. As Olaf had instructed, he first went to Britain and recruited over a hundred landless young white farmers. Then, using nautical charts and a compass, he sailed westward and indeed reached Vinland, establishing a foothold and capturing several hundred natives as slaves to help with farming.

Three years later, when Haig sent Ulf back to England to recruit another batch of indentured white slaves, Ulf stopped by Iceland to inform Haldor and Olaf of these events.

Ulf also told Haldor and Olaf something Olaf did not know: Vinland, and even America, had already become colonies of other European powers like Britain and France. However, their focus was on South America, and in North America, only France had a small outpost. It was insignificant, providing the royal family with rare animal pelts at most.

Although Vinland (Newfoundland) had no settlements yet, the British had long since claimed it. After Haig and Ulf arrived in Vinland, they managed to establish themselves but, to avoid conflict with Britain and France, they acknowledged British sovereignty over Newfoundland, living there and trading with British and French merchants.

Colonizing the primitive Americas required vast resources and manpower. Britain’s development of North America had relied on criminals, outcasts, and Puritans, taking centuries to clear most of the native population.

At the time, Britain had no energy to develop Vinland, so Ulf’s arrival was welcomed by British and French colonists in North America, who even offered some assistance.

Thanks to his performance at two and a half years old, Olaf truly earned the respect of his elders. No longer was he merely a clever child to be admired; he was treated as an equal, respected as an adult. Haldor and the others saw Olaf as the vessel of their ancestor Hrut’s spirit, the chosen heir of their lineage.

However, these events and their beliefs were known only to those involved. In an Europe dominated by Catholicism and Christianity, no one dared to openly profess their faith in the ancient Norse religion of Scandinavia.

Note:

- Virgate: A unit of land measurement, approximately 40 acres (242 Chinese mu). In medieval Europe, agriculture was underdeveloped, and fields required fallow periods. Thus, about half a virgate (10-20 acres or 60-120 Chinese mu) was needed to support a household of 3-8 people.

- Mark: A unit of currency, approximately 220-233 grams.

- Vinland: Newfoundland.

Chapter 4: A Countermeasure

Olaf had earned the respect of his father, Haldor, and his mother, Katrin, through a single performance. From the summer of his second year onward, the couple consulted him on every matter, great or small, and Olaf was always happy to help, offering thoughtful and practical advice. Though some suggestions failed due to cultural differences, most proved useful in one way or another.

Not long after Haig’s departure, the governor’s guards arrived. Upon discovering Haig’s escape, Sigfoss refused to let the matter drop. Through the bishop, he pressured the Governor of Iceland while also resorting to bribery. In the end, the governor ruled according to ancient Icelandic law, ordering Haldor to compensate the Sigfoss family with ten thousand marks in silver.

In Iceland, one hundred marks of silver were worth more than half a virgate of land—equivalent to the entire fortune of a free man.

Ten thousand marks of silver, converted to the currency of the Ming Dynasty, would have been worth over fifty-eight thousand taels of silver—enough to purchase a fine mansion in Beijing or even secure a favorable appointment as a prefect.

The Haldor family could not afford such a sum. Their ancestral wealth consisted of little more than three hundred virgates of land and two decent merchant ships. Aside from the two thousand marks they had given Haig, their only liquid assets were a buried jar containing one hundred gold marks and a few gold and silver trinkets.

After much negotiation, the two families reached an agreement: Haldor would pay eight thousand marks in silver. Since he lacked the cash, the Governor of Iceland confiscated and sold the most fertile one hundred virgates of Haldor’s land, valued at twelve thousand marks—enough to cover the compensation, fines, and transaction taxes.

In those days, every transaction and business venture was subject to taxes levied by feudal lords, governments, or the church. These taxes were exorbitant, sometimes reaching nearly thirty percent, as they could be compounded.

Because of this lawsuit, Olaf went from being the heir of a wealthy family to a modest one. Haldor, once a great landowner, was reduced to a minor one. Of the three hundred virgates passed down through generations, the most fertile one hundred were lost, leaving only one hundred virgates of poor, sandy soil and a little over a hundred virgates of woodland. The remaining land yielded less than half the harvest of what had been lost, but Haldor had no choice but to accept it.

Seven years had passed since then. Both Haldor and Olaf believed the matter was long settled.

But now, Hoskuld had suddenly arrived from Reykjavik, bringing dire news: Sigfoss had not given up. Through his son-in-law, the newly appointed Governor of Iceland, he intended to reopen the seven-year-old case, using the most fearsome political power of the feudal era to force Haldor into submission and seize the last of the Hrutr Estate’s land and resources.

“Is Sigfoss a troll? He’s even more vicious than Fenrir!” Katrin muttered before Haldor could speak.

In Norse mythology, trolls were cunning and treacherous creatures, while Fenrir was the monstrous wolf son of the trickster god Loki. Capable of devouring the heavens and earth, Fenrir was brother to the world-encircling serpent Jörmungandr. According to legend, even Odin, the Allfather, was destined to be swallowed by Fenrir.

In the Viking world, there were no proper curse words as understood in Confucian culture. Sexual insults held little weight, as extramarital affairs were the only real taboo in Iceland. All other forms of relationships between men and women were considered normal. Thus, calling someone a “troll,” “devil,” or “monster” was the harshest insult possible, as it invoked the very creatures their faith condemned.

Hoskuld nodded in agreement. “You’re right, sister. Is there anyone more greedy and wicked than Sigfoss?”

“What do we do? Next month is this year’s court assembly. If the governor publicly demands to revisit the case from seven years ago, Sigfoss will surely rally the other chieftains to his side. What then?” Katrin’s voice trembled with panic.

Haldor was a simple, honest man with some courage and strength, but he had only attended a church school for a few days. He lacked the knowledge to handle such a thorny problem. Turning to Olaf, he asked, “Olaf, what do you think we should do?”

“Yes, yes, Olaf, tell us,” Katrin urged.

This was only the second time Hoskuld had seen his nephew since Olaf’s birth, but he had heard his sister speak of Olaf’s extraordinary nature. Now, he watched the boy with curiosity.

After a long pause, Olaf hesitated before speaking. “We’re just minor landowners, barely better off than free men. If the governor and Sigfoss conspire against us, I don’t think we can fight back.”

Haldor and Katrin paled. Hoskuld sighed deeply. Olaf continued, “But as the old saying goes, every sword has a shield to match it. If we don’t want to be slaughtered like lambs, there’s always a way.”

“Tell us what you’re thinking. As long as it can save our family, I’ll try anything,” Haldor said solemnly, his gaze unwavering.

Olaf thought for a moment before replying, “There’s an old proverb: The best way to kill a night wolf is to strike before dark. We can’t stop the governor and Sigfoss’s scheme. They want to destroy our family, so we should take a lesson from Flosi. We can delay them, make them come for our property just as winter approaches. Then, we’ll kill or capture whoever they send, take our family, and sail away on our own ships to find my uncle Haig in Vinland. Once we leave Iceland, we’ll find a way to survive.”

His words left the three adults stunned. They sat in silence for a long time.

Hoskuld was Olaf’s uncle, and he had come out of familial duty to warn Haldor. Olaf wondered if his uncle might be a spy for Sigfoss, but the Icelanders had never been ones for such cunning. Their methods were direct—violence was their time-honored solution, unchanged for thousands of years.

The Icelanders even had a saying: There is nothing you cannot tell a friend. In their chaotic world, family and friends stood together through life and death. Betrayal or abandonment meant exile to the wilderness, where survival was impossible. Such simple bonds had endured through harsh environments and societal pressures.

Olaf’s reference to Flosi was drawn from Icelandic legend. If Flosi had existed, he would have lived seven hundred years earlier. After his father was killed by Njal, Flosi burned Njal and his sons alive in retaliation—a classic tale of vengeance in Icelandic sagas.

The three adults understood immediately. Olaf wanted Haldor to follow Flosi’s example and strike back at Sigfoss. Since their wealth was already lost, they might as well deny Sigfoss the spoils. They could lure his men in, kill them, and use the long winter as cover to escape to Vinland, where Haig awaited.

The ancestors of the Icelanders had migrated from Scandinavia—they were Germanic people, known as Vikings, with the restless spirit of seafaring raiders. The idea of uprooting the entire family to colonize Vinland was met with immediate agreement. Unlike the Chinese, who might hesitate over leaving their homeland, the Icelanders had no such attachment.

Note on the Mark: A medieval unit of currency in Northern and Western Europe, one mark weighed approximately 233 grams, though this varied by region and era. Later, it stabilized to around 220 grams.

Chapter 5: Reputation Matters

Standing at only five feet four inches, Hoskuld appeared small and frail to Olaf’s family of three. Yet, he was a man of courage, unafraid of trouble.

The room fell silent for a long while before Hoskuld was the first to rise. He downed a cup of beer in one gulp, then sneered, “Olaf is truly a warrior, worthy of being Hrut’s descendant. Haldor, you stand no chance against Sigfoss. Rather than being forced out, why not fight back before leaving? What do you say? I can stay and help, even bring my son and family. Together, we can take on Sigfoss.”

Katrin stepped forward and embraced her younger brother, who was an inch shorter than her. Her eyes reddened as she said, “Hoskuld, you’re such a good man. Your heart is as kind as Frey’s little sprites. I know you and your son are skilled with the long sword and longbow. If you’re willing to help us, that would be wonderful.”

Hoskuld had already fulfilled his duty by informing Haldor and offering financial aid, but now he was willing to stand with Haldor’s family to the end. This moved Haldor’s family deeply.

Ice-landers were not ones for empty politeness. Haldor stood and clapped Hoskuld on the shoulder, saying, “I would be honored to call you my friend forever, Hoskuld. After lunch, go fetch your family. We need to plan our next move.”

Hoskuld nodded. Katrin then turned to the kitchen to prepare the meal. Just then, Olaf’s younger brother, Half, and sister, Gerny, returned home. The six- and seven-year-olds greeted their uncle after their father introduced them.

Free farmers and the poor in Iceland typically ate only two meals a day. Breakfast was almost nonexistent—perhaps a sip of roasted pea flour or a bite of carrot, food usually reserved for livestock. Lunch was the main meal, consisting of bread, vegetable soup, or bread with salted fish. Dinner was leftovers, if any, otherwise just bread and a little beer.

Haldor’s landowning family, however, could afford three meals a day. With livestock like cows, sheep, chickens, and ducks, they started each morning with oatmeal fish porridge or black bread.

Lunch was the most substantial meal for Icelanders, and Haldor’s family was no exception. Katrin prepared roasted cod, whale, and mackerel, along with boiled eggs, blood pudding, and smoked auks. Dinner was usually leftovers.

The waters around Iceland, where warm and cold currents met, were among the world’s richest fishing grounds, teeming with seafood. However, limited by primitive boats and fishing tools, few Icelanders grew wealthy from cod and other marine products.

Instead, many English fishing boats came to Iceland’s waters, though their fishing technology was also underdeveloped compared to future centuries.

Unlike the highly sought-after herring from the Netherlands, North Sea cod and hairtail had lower yields and poor preservation methods, making them less marketable. Thus, Icelanders with large ships preferred piracy or the fur trade over fishing.

Most Icelandic fishermen still used traditional Viking boats, and their catch was consumed locally or in the Faroe Islands, Scotland, and as far as Norway.

Thus, fish remained a staple in the Icelandic diet.

Today, with her younger half-brother visiting, Katrin reheated the leftover smoked auk from the previous night. She also boiled dried cod, three large shrimp, and a piece of whale meat she had traded for that morning, seasoning it with onions and salt before serving.

The family sat around the table, facing a bowl of fish and half a bowl of smoked auk. Olaf sighed inwardly before waiting for the three elders to serve themselves. Only then did he fill his plate with fish soup and a piece of whale meat, tearing off a chunk of black bread to soak in the broth before wolfing it down.

Half and Gerny had been feeding themselves since they were two. Now, they used forks and spoons to tackle the fish on their plates.

The family ate in silence, no clinking of utensils or idle chatter. Once everyone finished, Katrin cleared the dishes and went to wash them in the kitchen.

A moment later, she returned and asked about Hoskuld’s children. After a brief chat, Hoskuld stood up.

Smiling at his sister, he kissed Olaf, Half, and Gerny on the cheek—a rare gesture among Icelanders. Then, donning his hat, he shook Haldor’s hand and left, leading his horse from the stable.

After Hoskuld left, Haldor sent the two children to play in Olaf’s room before pulling his son aside. He stared intently at Olaf and asked, “Olaf, what do you think we should do?”

Olaf shook his head in frustration. “I know too little about Iceland to handle this. We can’t resist the Governor’s guards. If they force us, we’ll have to either surrender or flee Iceland. But you won’t want to give up our property, and I refuse to let them have it easily. Even if we leave, we won’t make it easy for them.”

“You’re right,” Haldor muttered, rubbing his face. “We’ll let Sigfoss come to claim the land this winter, then kill his men and go to your uncle Haig.”

Olaf couldn’t think of a better plan. Fleeing to Vinland in North America would mean living like primitives. He would have to find a way back to civilization—and more importantly, seek revenge.

Considering the stigma of being a fugitive, Olaf looked at his father and said, “Father, we’re the victims of Sigfoss’s bullying, aren’t we?”

“Of course,” Haldor growled, clenching his fists.

“But if the Governor and the court assembly reopen the case from seven years ago, you’ll be seen as Iceland’s disgrace. No one will sympathize with you. They might even think the current Governor is fairer, since most don’t know the truth.”

Haldor shook his head. “You’re right, Olaf. No one listens to us, but they believe the powerful.”

Olaf stood up excitedly, turning in a circle. “So, Father, we need to spread the word now—that we’ve already paid more than we owed and no longer owe Sigfoss anything. Let people beyond the Seltjarnarnes Peninsula know. If most Icelanders hear about it, Sigfoss and the Governor might hesitate.”

Haldor was confused. He didn’t understand the power of public opinion and doubted Olaf’s words.

Olaf rolled his eyes in frustration and explained carefully, “If Icelanders know we paid twelve thousand silver marks seven years ago for a case that should have cost only eight thousand, they’ll speak up for us when the Governor reopens the case.”

“But the landowners and chiefs won’t sympathize with us. They only care about the Governor’s stance,” Haldor frowned at Olaf.

Olaf muttered in annoyance, “The Governor might not care, but the chiefs will worry about their reputations. If even six or seven of them speak up for us at the assembly, we might be safe. Even if the Governor pressures them, we might not lose everything.”

“You’re right,” Haldor clapped his hands with a crisp sound and laughed. “The chiefs are native Icelanders. Some are even related to our ancestors. If they know we’ve been wronged, they’ll speak for us.”

“Olaf, you’re as clever as if you’ve drunk from the Well of Wisdom,” Haldor praised before saying, “I’ll go find the chiefs we’re connected to and tell them our story. I’ll ask them to speak fairly at the assembly. You and your mother stay home and take care of your siblings. If all goes well, we won’t have to take up our ancestors’ axes and spears.”

Olaf knew Haldor didn’t want to fight Sigfoss to the death and end up leaving Iceland.

Even if someone at the assembly could mediate and reduce the Governor’s and Sigfoss’s demands, Haldor would rather give up some land than risk everything. As a small landowner, he didn’t want to fight the island’s most powerful leader.

Olaf understood his father’s mindset. If he were in the same position, he would do the same. So, he hoped his father could sway some of the chiefs.

Chapter 6: Brawl

After a while, Olaf was about to take a nap when he heard someone shouting outside.

“Golden-Haired Olaf! Golden-Haired Olaf!”

Olaf recognized the voice as Red-Haired Lixstrom. Remembering what he had said that morning, Olaf realized he was here to call him to fight with the children from another village.

Olaf, who had already become the leader of the children, used to do it just to pass the time. But now, considering the future, if he ever escaped Iceland, he would need reliable people from his hometown. So, he couldn’t refuse. He walked out and saw Red-Haired Lixstrom standing with five other children of varying heights and builds.

These five children were also companions from the village. The shortest one was half a head shorter than Olaf. His name was Solrak, and his great-grandfather had been a bishop in southern Iceland, making his family one of the better-off among the freemen.

The tallest and most robust was Little White Bear Halik. He was tall and strong, but his temper was too quick, and he didn’t like to think, so he listened to Olaf.

The other three were named Ilugi, Hari, and Val. They were all children of freemen from the village. Including Red-Haired Tom, the ancestors of these six children had all been slaves of Olaf’s family, but now everyone was equal.

They greeted each other, and then Olaf asked, “What’s up?”

“Big-Head Olin challenged us to a fight this afternoon. His fists are hard. How do we deal with him?” Solrak was very active and was the first to ask Olaf.

Olaf thought for a moment and said, “I’ve heard of Big-Head Olin. He has learned combat, but in his village, only he can fight. If Halik can hold him back, we can take down the other kids from his village first.”

“But what if he asks for a one-on-one?” Red-Haired Tom said, “None of us can beat Big-Head Olin.”

Olaf smiled slightly and said, “If it’s one-on-one, Halik can wrestle with Big-Head Olin first, and then I’ll deal with him.”

“That’s good. Your combat skills are also excellent. That should work.”

They agreed and set off north.

They passed through a patch of low shrubs and then a wetland, arriving at a wide grassland. This place originally belonged to Olaf’s family but was later given to the freemen of his manor. Now, Olaf’s father still owned one-third of this grassland.

There was a flock of sheep grazing leisurely in the grassland. Olaf glanced at them and estimated there were about seventy. Icelanders didn’t need to watch over their sheep; almost no one stole them here. If someone did, they couldn’t escape punishment, and it was hard to hide.

Three boys in linen clothes stood not far away, eyeing Olaf and his group.

The leader was a boy taller and more robust than Olaf, even bigger than Little White Bear Halik. If it weren’t for his youthful face, he would have looked like an ordinary adult male from Iceland.

Olaf recognized this big guy as Big-Head Olin. The two boys behind him were much smaller, but they looked clever and capable.

“Olaf, Solrak, Red-Haired Tom, I thought you guys wouldn’t dare to come.”

As they got closer, Big-Head Olin laughed loudly, looking somewhat ugly and ridiculous. Tom shook his clothes and sneered, “Olin, what nonsense are you talking about? We’re here to teach you a lesson. You think you’re something? Olaf said we’re going to knock out your front teeth today.”

Big-Head Olin stared at Olaf and said in a deep voice, “Alright, come on, Olaf. Let’s wrestle.”

Olaf shook his head and said, “I’m not good at wrestling. We can do combat. If it’s wrestling, let Halik fight you.”

Olin sneered and pointed at Halik, laughing, “Little White Bear, do you dare to fight me?”

Halik glared at him and rushed forward, hugging Olin.

Olin and Halik instantly grappled with each other, each trying to throw the other down.

The Icelanders’ understanding of wrestling was still just tripping and waist-lifting, with two arms struggling. Olaf and the others watched the two wrestle, cheering loudly for their respective villages.

After a while, Olaf estimated that about ten minutes had passed. Halik finally exhausted his strength and was thrown out by Olin, rolling on the ground twice before slowly getting up.

“Haha, Olaf, do you admit defeat?” Olin proudly clapped his hands. Although he was still panting, he was very confident.

“Little White Bear turned into a rolling bear, haha.”

His two lackeys also jeered.

Solrak and Tom exchanged glances and smiled. Olaf stepped forward and asked, “Big-Head Olin, do you want to rest for a while? You look as tired as if you’ve been chased by a sea lion.”

Olin was now very arrogant. He sneered and snorted, “I’m very strong. Only I chase sea lions; there’s no way a sea lion chases me. Come on, golden-haired boy, let me teach you what combat is.”

Olaf had the soul of an adult. He had never been as emotional or straightforward as the other Icelandic children since he was little.

Considering that this was an era with various diseases, and if one got sick, they either had to endure it or be bled or amputated by so-called doctors, Olaf had taken good care of his body since he was little. He dressed appropriately without his parents’ supervision, ate as much as possible, and started consciously exercising his body at a young age. Later, as he grew older, he learned the combat techniques passed down by his Viking ancestors from his father, including hand-to-hand combat and the use of knives, swords, spears, hammers, battle axes, throwing axes, and bows and arrows.

Due to his mature thinking and strong body, Olaf quickly mastered the family’s combat techniques. According to his father, Haldor, Olaf’s combat skills were almost as good as his own, not considering strength.

If Olaf became an adult, with these skills, he could go to sea and plunder, becoming rich beyond measure.

Because his body hadn’t fully developed, Olaf’s muscle content and strength were lower, but he felt that with a weapon, he could easily handle one or two adults who didn’t know combat.

Big-Head Olin was fifteen years old this year. Although he wasn’t an adult in this era, he was a half-grown boy. Olin had also learned combat techniques since he was little.

Olaf felt that dealing with Olin was still somewhat difficult, so he had Halik exhaust Olin’s strength first.

Feeling confident of victory, Olaf took two steps forward, warming up his hands and feet with small jumps and arm swings. His boxing-like preparation and defensive movements made Olin laugh and mock, “Olaf looks like a little chicken shaking its head.”

Solrak, Tom, Halik, and the other two had their eyes light up. They had seen Olaf’s seemingly strange but powerful movements before. They knew Olaf called this boxing, but they couldn’t understand it. However, for these children, knowing that Olaf’s boxing was powerful was enough.

“I hope you still think so when you’re crying for your mom.” Halik, who had just suffered a bit, retorted.

“Haha, let me show you how powerful I am, Olin.”

Big-Head Olin laughed loudly and stepped forward, throwing a punch at Olaf’s nose, shouting, “Odin’s Meteor Strike!”

In his previous life, when Olaf was in high school, one of his roommates studied free combat and boxing. He had practiced with him for a few months, learning some basics of boxing footwork and defense. In this life, after learning combat techniques from his father, the knowledge from both lives merged, making his Viking combat techniques more comprehensive.

Olaf believed that he had to stay alive to defeat the enemy, so he focused on improving his evasion and defensive techniques, especially protecting his head. He thought this would make Viking combat techniques more comprehensive. However, due to his lack of actual combat experience, Olaf was still exploring how to improve his combat techniques.

Chapter 7: Scheming

Big-Head Olin threw a punch, but Olaf remained calm. He sidestepped, letting the fist graze his left cheek, feeling the wind rush past his face.

After dodging, Olaf quickly closed the distance, landing a left jab. Seizing the moment as Olin reached to block, he followed with a powerful right hook that struck Olin’s left cheek, sending him stumbling back as if drunk.

Though knightly duels in the medieval era still held great influence, Icelanders had never been ones for refinement. Their fights were raw—no gloves, no handkerchiefs, no gentlemanly restraint. They took every advantage.

Olaf was even more ruthless than most. As Olin reeled from the blow, he pressed forward, raining down punches until Olin’s face was swollen and bloody, his nose gushing.

Only when Olin collapsed, groaning in pain, did Olaf step back, hands on his knees, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Olaf was still young, and the flurry of punches had drained him. If Olin had held on ten seconds longer, Olaf would have been the one to collapse.

The moment Olin fell, Tom and the other four boys charged at his two lackeys, beating them until they fled. Then, with a swagger, they returned.

Olaf rested before sitting beside Olin. “Hey, you alright?” he asked softly.

Olin opened his eyes, grumbling, “Damn, how’d you get so strong? Is your family gonna produce another Hrut?”

Olaf knew Olin was conceding. Most Icelanders, with their simple lives and the brutal consequences of failure, didn’t make excuses—they admitted defeat openly.

“Get up, Olin,” Olaf said with a smile, offering his hand. The sunlight glinted off his golden hair, momentarily dazzling Olin.

Olin took his hand and stood, clapping Olaf’s shoulder. “You don’t hit hard, but it still hurts like hell.”

Before Olaf could respond, the distant church bell rang—three chimes, paused, then three more, repeating three times.

It was the third hour of the day. Glancing at the setting sun, Olaf knew it was three in the afternoon. In Iceland’s short summer nights and long days, people worked until the third bell before resting.

Olin’s father was the village chief and tax collector of Will Village, responsible for gathering agricultural taxes, water fees, timber dues, and more for the Governor’s office. Though unpaid, the role was prestigious compared to common folk.

Will Village fell under the Seltyana district, led by Haldor, but the three villages there operated independently, leaving Haldor with little authority over Will.

At the third bell, Olin grew anxious. “My father’s coming home soon! If he finds me skipping math again, he’ll whip me. Let’s fight another time.”

Olaf shook Olin’s hand like an adult, and Olin hurried off, calling his lackeys to follow.

After they left, Tom and Solrak invited Olaf to the river, but he was too preoccupied to join. He waved them off.

Seeing their disappointment, Olaf remembered Solrak’s recent mentorship under a church elder. “We should head back early,” he called, catching up.

“You’re the best, Olaf!” they cheered, hugging him before heading to the river to fish.

Olaf learned Solrak’s teacher was Elder Amie of the South Harbor Church. He expressed interest in meeting her, and Solrak eagerly agreed, promising to introduce him that weekend. Next Monday, Solrak would move into the church choir to study hymns.

Olaf needed a way to counter the combined threat of the Sigfoss family and the Governor. Historically, such alliances in Iceland meant death or exile to Greenland. If both turned against a family, it was a death sentence.

He considered fleeing overseas or seeking another leader’s support. Then, remembering Solrak’s mentor, he thought of shaping public opinion.

Iceland lacked formal schools or notable history, but its people had created heroic sagas and poems. The sagas—prose narratives—and eddas—poetic works—were cultural treasures, even centuries later.

Every Icelander knew these stories by heart. Olaf’s ancestor, the “Grey Cloak Jarl” Hrut, was a saga figure.

If he could spread his family’s story through a saga, revealing Haldor’s eight thousand marks and ancestral lands paid to Sigfoss, the Governor might hesitate to act at the court assembly.

Without newspapers, the fastest way to spread news was through sagas—or by writing a new one.

For centuries, most sagas were written by educated bishops or priests. Olaf wanted Elder Amie to craft a short saga for his family, highlighting Haldar’s sacrifices and integrity.

He already had ideas—what to emphasize, what to downplay. His past life’s love for history and fantasy novels gave him an eye for gripping storytelling.

But first, he needed to convince Amie.

Note on Bell-Ringing: Before mechanical clocks, time was measured by sundials, and common folk relied on church bells. Churches rang eight times a day, every three hours, from dawn to late night.

Note on Handshakes: A Nordic custom, while southern France still favored cheek-kissing.

Chapter 8: The Visit

Time in Iceland always seemed to pass in a strange rhythm—sometimes slow, sometimes long.

In the summer, the Icelanders were so busy with work that they barely noticed the day slipping away. For a child like Olaf, however, each day was filled with play and learning the fishing and hunting skills passed down by his ancestors. If a family had the means, they might also send their children to the church school to learn some letters and arithmetic.

Olaf had long since mastered the few dozen pitiful words his father knew. At the small church school on the peninsula, he had also learned standard Danish and basic Latin. Since he had already completed his studies, he no longer attended school. Instead, he spent his days pondering how to counter the Sigfoss family’s schemes to ruin his family’s happiness.

Olaf racked his brains, drawing on all the knowledge from his past life, and though he came up with ways to break the deadlock, his age and circumstances prevented him from putting them into action. He could only sigh in frustration.

Before he knew it, Saturday morning arrived. Since his father, Haldor, had not yet returned, Olaf mentioned to his mother, Katrin, over breakfast that he wanted to visit the elder of the South Harbor Church. His reason was that he wished to attend the church school in the harbor for a higher level of education.

After Katrin understood the situation and learned that it was the godfather of Solrak, the boy from their village, she felt at ease. She took out some English shillings, worth about half a mark in silver, and handed them to Olaf. She instructed, “This is for your tuition. How could you go empty-handed? Since your father isn’t home, I can’t go with you. Let Jot take you, and ask him to convey my greetings to Elder Amie on my behalf.”

With that, Katrin went out to find Jot. Soon, red-haired Tom followed her back inside, grinning mischievously. “Olaf, I’m coming with you to see the world! My old man said if I can stay in the harbor and be your and Solrak’s classmate, he’ll let my brother take over the family business and become a coachman.”

Olaf laughed heartily, slung his small bundle over his shoulder, and left the house with red-haired Tom. They first went to find Solrak, and amid the chatter of Solrak’s sister, the three boys climbed into Uncle Jot’s carriage and left White Hazel Forest Hrut Village, heading northeast.

Jot’s grandfather had once been a serf in Olaf’s family, but after gaining his freedom, he remained close to them. Thoughtfully, he had laid a sheepskin on the carriage floor, letting Olaf lie in the softest and warmest spot first, followed by Solrak and red-haired Tom.

Since Jot had driven Solrak and his father to the South Harbor Church before, he knew the way well.

The three boys chatted for a while in the swaying carriage before falling asleep. When they woke, it was already noon. Olaf sat up and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. “Uncle Jot, where are we? How much farther to the harbor?”

Jot flicked the reins and turned his head with a smile. “Olaf, you’re awake. We’re at New River Bay now. Another six or seven miles ahead, and we’ll reach the harbor. We should get there by four o’clock. If you’re hungry, eat some jerky.”

Jot’s eyes crinkled as he reached into a hidden compartment from the front seat and pulled out a deerskin bundle, handing it to Olaf.

Olaf took it and opened it to find a silver-plated round tin flask. Beside it were a few pieces of smoked venison, weighing about four or five pounds—roughly nine hundred grams.

Just then, red-haired Tom and Solrak woke up as well. Tom shouted, “Dad, I need to pee!”

“Whoa.”

Jot pulled on the reins, steadying the carriage. “Go ahead and relieve yourselves.”

The three boys got out and happily emptied their bladders by the roadside before climbing back into the carriage. Tom took a piece of smoked venison, broke it in half, and handed one piece to Olaf.

Olaf pointed at Solrak and said, “Give it to Solrak. I’ll take my own.”

With that, Olaf took a piece himself, broke it in half, and gave one piece to Jot.

After eating about half a pound of smoked venison, Olaf found it a bit salty. He took a small copper flask from his bundle and drank a few sips of water before lying back down comfortably.

Tom and Solrak, now full, couldn’t sit still. They gazed at the scenery along the road, occasionally shouting at the sight of Arctic foxes, Arctic wolves, and reindeer.

Olaf, meanwhile, rested his head on his bundle, silently planning how to persuade Elder Amie of the South Harbor Church.

By the time the carriage entered the village of the harbor, the sky had darkened slightly, and the distant barking of dogs could be heard clearly.

Moments later, Jot’s carriage turned onto a gravel path. Amid the clatter of hooves, he pointed to a church not far ahead and said with a smile, “We’ve arrived at the South Harbor Church.”

Iceland had abandoned its Norse pagan beliefs around the tenth century, converting to Catholicism—a sign of the northern barbarians, the Vikings, moving toward civilization.

Later, Iceland became a territory of the Norwegian Kingdom. After Norway and Denmark merged, it became part of the Danish Kingdom.

Over thirty years ago, the Danish king, in an effort to strengthen royal authority, abandoned Catholicism and embraced the Lutheran Church. Under the efforts of the governor at the time, Iceland expelled the Catholic bishops, and the more than ten churches on the island were taken over by the Lutherans.

In theory, abandoning Catholicism should have meant the abolition of the “tithe,” allowing the people of Iceland to live more prosperously. However, the governor, representing the kingdom, imposed various other taxes, still leaving the Icelandic people struggling to get by.

The South Harbor Church, a three-hundred-year-old Catholic church, was now a Lutheran place of worship.

As evening approached, candles were lit inside the church. Jot drove the carriage to the church’s entrance, and the three boys jumped down with their bundles.

A boy of fifteen or sixteen emerged from the church, his face freckled, his eyes deep-set but brown. He wore the garments of a church official and asked, “It’s getting dark. If you want to pray, come back tomorrow.”

Solrak called out with a smile, “Brother Ilugi, it’s me, Solrak!”

“Oh, Solrak is here. The elder was just talking about you.”

The young cleric, Ilugi, squinted and smiled, looking at Olaf and Tom. “Are these your friends?”

“This is the son of our village chief, my good friend Olaf Haldorsson—we all call him Golden-Haired Olaf. And this is my good friend, Red-Haired Lixstrom. This is his father, Uncle Jot.”

Solrak quickly introduced everyone. After they exchanged handshakes and greetings, Ilugi led the four of them into the church. They arrived at a small house behind the church, where Ilugi knocked on the door and said softly, “Elder, Solrak is here.”

A magnetic voice responded from inside, “Bring him in quickly. The poor child must be exhausted.”

Ilugi pushed open the door and led the four inside, introducing them one by one before stepping aside.

The room was furnished with a rug woven by East Slavs. Behind a pinewood table sat a middle-aged man with thinning hair, dressed in clerical robes, flipping through a Bible. When he saw Olaf and the others enter, he nodded with a smile.

“Please, sit down.”

They took their seats on wooden chairs, and Solrak explained the purpose of Olaf and Tom’s visit. Then Jot stood up, first expressing his devotion to the Lord, before presenting two bags of silver coins. He smiled and said, “Elder Amie, we are willing to let the children serve the Lord Jesus. We hope you can make this possible.”

Chapter 9: Starting School

After Jot presented the silver coin, Elder Amie’s expression softened. Though he didn’t need the money, he appreciated Jot’s attitude. After asking Olaf and red-haired Tom a few simple questions, he happily accepted the two children.

That evening, Olaf, Solrak, and Tom stayed at the South District’s grand cathedral. Jot, having donated copper coins to the church, received a simple dinner and a night’s stay in the communal dormitory.

The next morning, after exchanging a few words with Olaf and Tom, Jot bid farewell to Elder Amie and left. He drove his carriage straight to the great port to load some timber and fabric, then returned to White Hazel Forest Hrut Village. This way, people from nearby villages and his own village who needed clothes, house repairs, or furniture would come to him, allowing him to earn some copper coins.

After Jot left, Olaf and the other two, led by Ilugi, first went to bathe before heading to the church school behind the cathedral.

Ilugi was a recent graduate and familiar with the school’s deacon. He helped the three find a dormitory before leaving.

The church school held classes five days a week, with weekends off. So, Olaf and the others had agreed with Jot that every Friday, he would pick them up and take them back to the village, returning them to school on Sunday.

The teachers at the church school were all pastors from the cathedral. Sometimes, Elder Amie would also lecture on the Bible. Though the school aimed to cultivate believers, in this era, learning conventional knowledge required attending a church school.

Olaf knew he was too young to engage with Amie as an equal and request a saga for the Hrut family. He would have to wait. So, he settled into the church school, studying hymns and Latin—simple yet monotonous subjects.

Before he knew it, Friday arrived. That morning, Tom and Solrak were distracted, often gazing at the gate. Olaf understood—they missed home, having been away from the village for so long.

By afternoon, Jot still hadn’t arrived, but an unexpected visitor brought Olaf joy.

During class that afternoon, Ilugi entered the classroom and called out to Olaf among the dozen or so children, saying, “Your father is here.”

Olaf followed Ilugi to the front of the cathedral, where he indeed saw his father sitting in a chair, head bowed in prayer.

“You two talk,” Ilugi said before leaving.

Olaf stepped forward. When his father finished praying, he whispered, “Father, why are you here?”

“Olaf,” Haldor said, looking at his somewhat thinner son with surprise. He lifted Olaf into his arms, then smiled and said, “Son, I was shocked when I got home yesterday and your mother told me you were studying at the South District cathedral. What made you think of this?”

Olaf heard the subtext in his father’s words. He lowered his voice and said, “Let’s sit at the back. I’ll tell you slowly.”

Haldor realized he had been too excited, his voice too loud. He apologized with a smile to the other worshippers, then carried Olaf to the empty corner at the back.

Haldor first told Olaf about his visits to other chieftains. The results were disappointing—only the chieftain of the Djupeyr region beneath Mount Snaefell in the east, Kjartan, had explicitly agreed to help Haldor. The other chieftains, upon hearing that Sigfoss and the governor were joining forces against Haldor, all found excuses to refuse.

After all, the Icelanders of today were no longer the fearless, death-defying Viking raiders of centuries past. Hundreds of years of tilling the land had worn down their spirit, leaving most chieftains afraid of offending the governor and Sigfoss.

Olaf had been unhappy since arriving at the South District cathedral. Whether teachers or others, they all treated him like a child, which frustrated Olaf, whose mind had always been that of an adult.

Now, sitting with his father, Olaf regained the feeling of being respected and treated as an equal. He first comforted his father, then casually smiled as he explained his plan to have Elder Amie write a saga for the Hrut family, elevating their reputation and making the governor and Sigfoss hesitate to act against them.

After hearing Olaf’s plan, Haldor thought for a moment, then happily patted Olaf’s shoulder and said, “Olaf, your little brain is so clever! If we can get the pastor to write our family’s saga, not only will it make the Sigfoss family and the governor wary, but it will also bring great fame to our family in Iceland. Everything will go much smoother in the future.”

Olaf nodded. Haldor frowned again and whispered, “But apart from ancestor Hrut, where else do we have legendary figures? There are no stories to write. Will Amie agree?”

Olaf thought: No stories? That’s because I haven’t been here yet. I arrived early, so there are already stories.

With a mysterious smile, Olaf took out a small notebook from his pocket. It contained an outline written in a mix of Danish and Latin. With a little more detail, a grand epic spanning hundreds of years and nine generations would emerge.

Haldor took it and examined it carefully. His education was limited, so he had to ask questions as he read. Olaf knew that his family, as minor chieftains, had the means to receive an education. Otherwise, Haldor would be like most Icelanders and Europeans—completely illiterate.

When Haldor finally understood the story his son Olaf had written, titled “The Hrut Family,” he was still enthralled, his face filled with shock, mouth agape in speechless amazement.

After a long while, Haldor slapped his thigh and said, “Olaf, you must have drunk from the Well of Wisdom! What you’ve written is like an edda—a poem recording Norse mythology. But aren’t you making up too much?”

Olaf thought of Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which was already popular in East Asia at the time. He blinked and said, “Who else knows about our ancestors besides us? If we say it happened, then it happened. Besides, poetry and stories should be three parts truth and seven parts fiction. If it’s all true, no one would enjoy reading it.”

“Three parts truth and seven parts fiction.”

Haldor pondered this, feeling the phrase was good but not quite understanding it. He shook his head and asked, “Should I go talk to Elder Amie?”

Olaf thought for a moment, then nodded and said, “Yes. But we should go together. You need to say that this story’s framework has been passed down through the generations. Otherwise, Amie might not believe it.”

“Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

Haldor laughed heartily and pulled Olaf toward the cathedral’s back door.

Suddenly, Ilugi appeared from the back door as if out of nowhere. He frowned and asked, “Mr. Haldor, what brings you here?”

“I have some personal matters I’d like to discuss with Elder Amie.”

Ilugi smiled and said, “Elder Amie is eating. If it’s important, please go ahead.” With that, he shrugged and left.

Haldor, led by Olaf, walked down two corridors and knocked on Amie’s door.

“Come in.”

Haldor and Olaf entered to find the thin-haired Amie eating sausage and bread, with a cup of steaming honey water on the table.

Haldor silently admired Amie’s wealth—even honey water was a luxury—then made the sign of the cross and greeted him. “Apologies for disturbing you, Elder. It’s been three years since we last met. You’re as healthy and youthful as ever.”

“May God bless you,” Amie said, rising with a smile to shake Haldor’s hand. After all, Haldor was a minor chieftain, worthy of the elder’s respect.

After inviting Haldor to sit, Amie joked, “Every year, you take your ship to England, Scotland, Norway, and Denmark. You haven’t attended the court assembly for three years. It seems you’ve become a successful merchant, dear Haldor.”

“I wish I were a successful merchant, but war has made the seas increasingly dangerous. Perhaps soon, I’ll have to return to my old ways and become a Viking raider again.”

“Haha.”

Chapter 10: The Tale of the Hrutstakki Family

Haldor exchanged a few pleasantries with Elder Amie before stating his purpose.

Amie was taken aback when he heard Haldor’s request for him to compose a saga chronicling their family’s history. Glancing at Haldor and Olaf, who sat calmly, Amie cleared his throat and asked, “Mr. Haldor, forgive my bluntness, but I know nothing of your family’s history. I doubt anyone in Iceland does. It’s not that I’m refusing—I simply cannot write it.”

Haldor retrieved the notebook Olaf had written from his coat and handed it to Amie, smiling. “Why not take a look before deciding?”

Amie flipped through it casually at first, but after reading just two pages, his eyes widened, and his expression grew serious. A moment later, he reluctantly closed it, glancing at Olaf before sighing. “Did Olaf write this?”

Olaf’s heart stirred. He knew Amie recognized the paper and handwriting—his own. Rising quickly, he said, “Yes, respected elder. My father just ordered me to record the stories he told.”

“Oh.”

Amie nodded, then leaned forward eagerly, looking at Haldor with a smile. “Mr. Haldor, your family’s story already has a solid outline. Did you write it yourself?”

Haldor shook his head. “This is a tale passed down from my grandfather’s generation. My father and I added the events of the last few decades.”

Amie was disappointed, though he didn’t truly believe such a compelling story could come from Haldor, who seemed illiterate.

Haldor pressed, “Do you think this story can be written? If not, I’ll try another church.”

As Haldor began to rise, Amie quickly placed a hand on him, his voice firm. “God bless you. Your family’s story is perfectly suited for an Icelandic saga. Besides me, I doubt any priest in Iceland is qualified. After all, I studied for ten years at the Great Cathedral of Copenhagen, where the deepest knowledge and finest arts reside.”

“Oh, I suppose so.”

Haldor smiled and shook Amie’s hand. The two then discussed the details of composing the saga. Throughout, Haldor, in the guise of a doting father, sought Olaf’s opinions, while Olaf played the part of an eager child, offering insightful suggestions that delighted Amie. Patting Olaf’s head, Amie laughed, “Olaf is too clever—he’s my star pupil!”

Olaf secretly scoffed. Playing dumb to outsmart, feigning weakness to strike—these are classic tropes. How could a sheltered priest like you resist?

Since Denmark had converted to Protestantism, Iceland had only Christianity, though its priests differed from Catholics in faith. Yet they shared one trait: as bearers of European theological civilization, they were the torchbearers of culture, representing its highest echelons.

Of the millions of priests, only sainthood or authorship could secure a place in history. Few could resist the allure of fame and fortune, and most Westerners would choose fame—wealth would follow.

Two centuries earlier, the Italian Renaissance had risen in opposition to Catholic oppression, and Protestantism, likewise opposing it, had embraced the movement. Every Protestant priest dreamed of writing a masterpiece like Dante’s, ensuring eternal renown.

Amie was no exception. The moment he saw the notebook titled The Hrutstakki Family, he was captivated. He could swear by God that this story surpassed any saga he had ever read.

His instincts told him that if he wrote this saga, the tale of the Hrutstakki family—and his name—would echo across Iceland, even reaching Norway and Denmark.

Time flew as they discussed the creation. Soon, evening approached, and Jot arrived with a cart full of goods.

Haldor politely declined Amie’s invitation to dinner, then left with Olaf, Tom, and Solrak. The three children boarded the cart, while Haldor rode behind, and they hastened away from the Great Port’s southern district, heading toward their hometown dozens of miles away.

Before leaving, Haldor and Amie agreed that Olaf would bring the latest manuscript each week. The Hrutstakki family would review it, mark any issues or needed revisions, and Olaf would return it to Amie.

Thus, Olaf became the “author” and material provider of the Hrutstakki epic, the messenger of information—though in truth, he was the real screenwriter.

Three weeks later, the first draft of the Hrutstakki saga was complete, roughly one hundred thousand words long—a medium-length work by Icelandic standards.

The story spanned from 1179 to 1627, covering over five hundred years and nine generations of the Hrutstakki family. The most detailed sections focused on the first patriarch, Hrut, the third patriarch, Odin, the sixth patriarch, Little Hrut, and the ninth-generation brothers, Haldor and Haig.

The first ancestor, Hrut, was known as the “Grey Cloak Jarl” for aiding the Norwegian king in defeating northern rebels, earning the title of jarl and a cloak.

Hrut was an Icelander who owned a Viking longship and over fifty thralls. The entire Seltjarnarnes Peninsula south of the Great Port was once his estate.

His life was legendary, the epitome of a saga hero.

By the time of the third patriarch, Odin—who inherited the Hrutstakki family’s stature, strength, and swordsmanship—the times had changed.

Odin’s youth coincided with Iceland’s submission to Norway. A pirate himself, he expanded Hrutstakki’s population to over two hundred, with five Viking warships under his command. He even controlled several islands in the Faroe archipelago. The most thrilling part of his tale was his encounter with a sea serpent, a giant lanternfish, and a singing mermaid of unparalleled beauty.

The sixth patriarch, Little Hrut, was named for his golden hair, towering height, handsome features, and unmatched martial prowess—resembling the first Hrut.

By his time, Iceland had transformed. Most thralls had become freemen, and villages dotted the peninsula. Like his ancestors, Little Hrut took to the seas, reaching Greenland and then Vinland, where he conquered several tribes of Skraelings and Unipads, living there for years.

Once, after a defeat in Vinland, he fled into a cliffside cave and met a white-bearded old man who gave him a magical fruit to heal his wounds and a sword that could cut through iron.

With this blade, Little Hrut defeated the Skraelings, rescued his men, and prepared to return to Iceland. But a storm struck at sea. To calm the waves, he cast the sword into the ocean as an offering to the sea god. The storm subsided, and he returned unharmed.

Whether it was Olaf, Haldor, or Amie, they all knew that for Icelanders, the tales of Hrut and Odin were conventional saga fare—enjoyable, but not groundbreaking.

Little Hrut’s story, however, elevated the legend. His perilous, mysterious adventures in the fabled, fertile Vinland, the old man in the cliff, the sword that cut through iron, and the sea god’s demand—all these elements stirred the heart.

From Little Hrut’s story onward, every reader felt a kinship with the Hrutstakki family. But the real bombshell Olaf had planted was the tale of the ninth-generation brothers, Haldor and Haig.

Olaf’s plotting and Amie’s prose made their story even more compelling.

The first half was a tragic hero’s tale. Haldor and Haig, each with their own cog ship, raided merchant vessels while trading furs for timber, flour, and beer for the people of Iceland.

Their journey was filled with wonders—talking walruses and seals, a kilometer-long whale, and in Sweden, a fortune-telling Gypsy who prophesied that Haig would meet a violent end. But if he followed his ancestors’ path, he would become a hero and even establish a new homeland called “New Iceland.”

Haldor, too, faced disaster—a family annihilation ten years after Haig’s fate. A monstrous seagull would control a powerful figure’s mind, seeking to destroy the Hrutstakki family. If Haldor fell, Haig would return with an army of vengeance.

Upon returning home, they encountered Sigfoss’s son. Haig and young Sigfoss dueled over the daughter of the Great Port’s northern leader. Though Haig was stronger, he accidentally killed Sigfoss. Unwilling to face execution, Haig fled Iceland, embarking on a grand naval adventure.

He reached India, witnessing elephant-mounted armies, and the Ming Dynasty, marveling at the prosperity of the East. He visited Japan, Ryukyu, and Korea, uncovering the mysteries of the Eastern tributary system—a civilization utterly distinct from Western Christianity.

Meanwhile, Haldor compensated the Sigfoss family with a fortune.

Haig’s adventures were conveyed through a “Thousand-Mile Voice Talisman” given to him by a Taoist master named Zhang Sanfeng in the Celestial Empire. This talisman allowed his voice to travel thousands of miles, letting him share his experiences with Haldor.

After witnessing the wonders of the Far East, Haig led his fleet to the mainland near Vinland, settling there. Like his sixth-generation ancestor, Little Hrut, he established a base in Vinland’s fertile lands, enslaving wild tribes and becoming the ruler of a vast territory.

The Hrutstakki saga ended here, leaving room for imagination, as if inviting every listener to dream of Vinland’s beauty.

Note: After Denmark converted to Protestantism, Iceland resisted, but the Danish king ordered the governor to execute a bishop, forcing Iceland’s conversion.

Chapter 11: Haldor’s Fame Spreads Across Iceland

After more than a week of careful revision, the final version of the Hrut family’s story was completed.

Elder Amie, unable to contain his excitement after the book was finished, immediately ordered other priests and teachers in the church to transcribe seven or eight copies, which were then sent to the elders in the major ports and other regions.

Within a week, the story of the Hrut family began to spread among the Protestant believers, gradually gaining momentum.

Another week passed, and the tale of the Hrut family became the most popular topic of discussion among the majority of Icelanders, growing hotter by the day.

In the early seventeenth century, Iceland’s population was only fifty to sixty thousand, with little change over the years. The vast, sparsely populated land and lack of migration led to isolation, so when news broke two years ago that King Christian IV of Denmark, representing the Protestant Union, had launched a war to sanction the Holy Roman Empire, the Icelandic people discussed this major event for two years.

But in late July and early August of 1627, the story of the Hrut family surpassed the European war as the new topic of conversation in Iceland, captivating people and growing in influence.

Many Icelanders, drawn by the fame, traveled to White Hazel Forest Hrut Village to visit Haldor, hoping to meet the descendant of the legendary hero Hrut, Odin, Little Hrut, and the brother of the explorer Haig.

At first, Haldor was pleased, but soon he grew weary. However, Olaf told him that before the court assembly, they must ensure every Icelander who visited the village left with a favorable impression of the Hrut family to build a good reputation.

Haldor thus became even more enthusiastic, ensuring that every visitor left praising his generosity, kindness, and imposing stature.

Many who had doubted the story of the Hrut family were convinced when they saw Haldor’s height of over six feet. After all, at nearly six feet three inches, he was a rare giant in resource-scarce Iceland, where intermarriage was common. Among Iceland’s fifty thousand people, Haldor’s height surpassed eighty percent of the population.

The chieftains Haldor had previously visited, who had been afraid to speak up for him due to the governor’s influence, changed their tune after the Hrut family’s story spread across Iceland. They sent word to Haldor that if the governor and Sigfoss tried to revisit his past crimes at the next month’s court assembly, they would speak in his defense and not allow him to be bullied.

Olaf and Haldor both felt relieved, believing that Sigfoss and the governor could no longer use old grievances against them.

Every day, Haldor met with visitors from various regions in the village—some familiar, some strangers.

Meanwhile, Olaf thrived in the church school. The popularity of the Hrut family’s story had brought Elder Amie great prestige, and in return, he showed even more favor to Olaf, openly declaring him his most promising student and introducing him to several church elders.

Olaf learned that the elder of the North District Church in the major port, Hongrode, was a nobleman sent from Copenhagen, Denmark. Hongrode’s family had been entrusted by King Christian IV to oversee the Danish East India Company, which had occupied the Tranquebar region in southern India in 1620, developing colonies and smuggling tea and sugar. The company was currently flourishing.

Olaf knew this was the golden age of the Age of Exploration. England, France, the Netherlands, and Denmark were all establishing East India Companies to set up bases in India, while Spain was heavily involved in colonization in Central and South America, and England and France had just begun establishing footholds in North America.

Olaf had always wanted to ride the wave of maritime colonization to enrich his family. After all, a modern soul could not endure the dull, resource-scarce, and spiritually barren life in Iceland.

He also aspired to achieve great things, whether by commanding an army or controlling merchant ships and wealth.

After meeting Hongrode, Olaf took note of him, planning to have his father secretly purchase some matchlock or smoothbore guns from him. With the governor and the Sigfoss family watching them, Olaf felt unsafe without firearms.

That Friday evening, after returning home in Jot’s carriage, Olaf found an opportunity to tell his father.

Haldor sat on a stool, polishing his whaling spear, and laughed, “You’re right, Olaf. We’ve offended Sigfoss, which is dangerous for us. Until Governor Kolsvin leaves Iceland, our family still faces the risk of destruction. Buying some firearms is a way to protect ourselves. But I’m more familiar with English merchants—they might sell me matchlock guns at a better price.”

“No, Father, you’ve always had business dealings with English merchants, so whether you buy now or later, you can still trade with them. But if we don’t seize this opportunity with the Hongrode family, we might never get another chance. You might not know, but the Hongrode family controls the East India Company, which has five armed merchant ships and dominates the tea and sugar trade between India, Denmark, Sweden, and England. Although the trade routes have just been established and haven’t shown their full potential yet, in terms of assets and influence, they are one of the most powerful forces in Denmark and will become an indispensable source of revenue for the Danish kingdom in the future.”

“If we establish a connection with them, it will be useful someday. This is an investment, Father.”

Olaf’s words moved Haldor. After a moment of thought, he said, “I’ll do as you say and keep the ship in the middle reaches of the Hvítá River to deal with the shipworms. This year, we’ll make one less voyage, but our sheep have done well, and we can sell them for a hundred or two hundred marks in silver, which should be enough to discuss business with Hongrode.”

The next morning, Haldor left home to arrange the sale of his family’s sheep and a few calves.

That evening, Haldor returned with a merchant who had bought the sheep, and the flock and calves were driven to the coast a few miles away to be loaded onto a ship.

Haldor sat down with a small box of silver coins, delighted.

Katrin reheated the food and poured him a bottle of wine.

After eating and drinking his fill, Haldor belched and looked at Olaf. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll go see Elder Hongrode and see how many guns and bullets we can buy with our one hundred and sixty marks in silver.”

Katrin had just put Half and Gerny to sleep and entered the room. Seeing her husband so attentive to their second son, she felt a pang of jealousy and huffed, “Hmph, you listen to Olaf so much—when will you ever listen to me?”

Haldor laughed heartily. “Olaf is the child blessed by our ancestors, the future of our family. He’s your son, so being good to him is being good to you.”

Katrin also laughed. “You’re right. The children I bear are all handsome and tall. Look at Ulf—he’s only twenty-three and already almost as tall as you. Olaf will grow up to be just as tall and handsome.”

“And Half and Gerny will grow up to be strong young men and beautiful women,” Haldor said happily, pulling his wife into his arms. “Let’s have a few more good children.”

Katrin rolled her eyes at her husband, pushing away his burly hands, and took Olaf by the arm. “Come on, Olaf, let’s go to bed.”

Olaf felt the warmth of his family and kissed his mother. “Alright, you two should go to bed early too. Goodnight.”

Chapter 12: Purchasing Arms

The next morning, Haldor and Olaf rose before dawn, packed some dried meat and hot water, then mounted their family’s mixed-breed Shire horse and an old gelding, setting off for the great port.

Haldor’s riding skills were exceptional, even among the best in White Hazel Forest Hrut Village. Olaf, eager to learn, took this opportunity to master the basics under his father’s guidance.

The old gelding Olaf rode was gentle and castrated, making it the perfect mount for a beginner.

At first, the two rode slowly out of the village, but as Olaf grew more comfortable, they picked up the pace to a steady trot.

Since they had left early, Haldor was in no hurry. He patiently instructed Olaf along the way while keeping a watchful eye on his son’s progress.

Olaf, now nearly the height and weight of an average adult, had decent stamina. Combined with the intelligence of a modern adult who had endured the rigors of the gaokao, he learned quickly.

By the time they reached the village south of the great port, they heard the distant tolling of church bells. Olaf wiped the sweat from his face and sighed, “It’s been over an hour already.”

Haldor glanced at the high-rising sun, flicked his whip, and said, “Not far now. Let’s go.”

Olaf estimated another hour had passed before they crossed through the main street of Reykjavik, Iceland’s most prosperous city, and arrived at the grand cathedral in the northern district.

Europe was still in an era where agriculture, medicine, and culture lagged behind the East. Farming techniques were primitive, and average grain yields were less than one-fifth of those in the ancient Eastern nations.

Iceland was even more backward, so the vast island had only one city—Reykjavik.

Though called a city, Reykjavik was essentially a more prosperous village. To Haldor, who had seen the wider world, it was just a place with more large houses and a few taverns and shops—far from the wealth and bustle of London.

But for most Icelanders who had never traveled far, their world consisted only of their own village and neighboring ones. The difference was merely the number of stone or wooden houses.

Reykjavik had wide streets and tall buildings, but most importantly, it had a dock. Ships arrived daily, with sailors loading and unloading grain, alcohol, furs, timber, farming tools, and swords. To the east of the dock was a tavern that served as a brothel, inn, and restaurant. Further east lay the Governor’s Mansion, the center of Iceland’s authority.

Around the Governor’s Mansion, the three surrounding streets were home to Iceland’s highest-ranking and wealthiest chiefs. Every Icelander who saw the three-story stone mansion would admire it, saying:

“The royal palace in Copenhagen must be just like this.”

To Olaf, Reykjavik was no more than a slightly wealthier village or an ordinary town in the Celestial Empire of later eras. Its so-called prosperity held no appeal for him.

Reykjavik was divided into three districts. The southern and northern districts were where the free laborers lived, with the largest population. The eastern district, directly east of the dock, was where the Governor’s Mansion, shops, and wealthy residences were concentrated.

After passing through the main street, the number of pedestrians thinned out. Haldor tied up the horses in front of the cathedral and led Olaf into the northern district church.

It was Sunday, and a mass had just ended. The congregation filed out, and Haldor and Olaf waited until the church was empty before entering.

Inside, two priests were tidying up the sacred vessels. On the altar, a man in white robes, who appeared to be an elder, was giving instructions.

Haldor and Olaf approached. Haldor made the sign of the cross, bowed slightly, and said respectfully, “Haldor, a lost sheep from White Hazel Forest Hrut Village, has come to receive the Lord’s grace.”

“The Lord will embrace His children and bless His follower, Mr. Haldor.”

The white-robed man had brown hair and was about the same age as Haldor, though a head shorter. He first made a solemn sign of the cross before turning to ask, “Olaf, what is your relationship with Mr. Haldor?”

Olaf bowed slightly, greeted him, and explained, “This is my father, Elder Hongrode.”

Hongrode’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he smiled, shaking Haldor’s hand. “I remember now. Mr. Haldor is the brother of Iceland’s great explorer, Haig. I’ve heard much about the Hrut family’s deeds recently.”

Sensing Hongrode’s goodwill, Haldor cleared his throat. “Icelanders fear neither wind nor waves and love adventure. It is the spirit passed down by our ancestors, Elder Hongrode. I’ve come today to discuss business with you.”

“Since it’s business, let’s talk in my office.”

Hongrode led Haldor into a room adorned with reindeer heads, medieval swords, and a golden cross.

Haldor praised the decorations as he sat down. The two exchanged a few words about the room’s furnishings, and Hongrode seemed quite enthusiastic, even pouring Haldor a cup of wine.

After a moment, Haldor set down his cup and got to the point. “Elder Hongrode, you know I have a merchant ship. These past two years, the Protestant Union and the Holy Roman Empire, which supports Catholicism, have been at war. All of Europe is in chaos. Defeated mercenaries and desperate farmers have turned to piracy and banditry. I want to protect my ships and property, so I’ve come to buy some firearms. Do you have any?”

Though Hongrode was a clergyman, he was also an excellent businessman. Originally groomed as his family’s successor, he had later converted to maintain religious support for his family. In just five years, he had risen from priest to deacon and was now stationed in northern Iceland as an elder. With a few more years of experience, he could arrange a transfer to the grand cathedral in Copenhagen.

Upon seeing Haldor and Olaf, Hongrode had immediately sensed they were there to buy weapons. After all, whether it was the incident eight years ago or the Hrut family’s history, it was clear that Sigfoss and the Haldor family were enemies. Moreover, Sigfoss, backed by the governor, had openly declared his intention to reduce the Haldor family to serfdom.

Hongrode knew Haldor must want firearms for self-defense, perhaps even to fight Sigfoss. But since he had no ties to Sigfoss, as long as he could make money, he didn’t care what they did.

A thought flashed through Hongrode’s mind, and he smiled warmly. “These are troubled times. Under the personal command of His Majesty Christian, Denmark has captured several regions in northern Germany. It seems we are on the verge of defeating the Holy Roman Empire and becoming the savior of the Protestant nations. Thus, all firearms and ammunition produced in the Norwegian and Danish arsenals are being sent to the front lines. I can’t obtain any—it would be treason.”

Olaf inwardly scoffed. He didn’t know if Hongrode was aware, but in the second half of last year, Christian IV had been soundly defeated by the Holy Roman Empire’s commander, Wallenstein. This year, they had suffered further losses, relinquishing all the territory they had gained. Soon, they would face another major defeat. Yet here was Hongrode, still singing the praises of the Danish king.

Olaf knew the course of history, but Hongrode and Haldor did not. Haldor understood that Hongrode’s words might not be a refusal—there was likely more to come. So he waited patiently with a smile.

Hongrode silently praised Haldor’s composure, thinking, No wonder he’s the head of the Hrut family.

“However, England and France are now our allies. Both nations have provided significant support in gold, silver, arrows, spears, and firearms. If you truly want some, I could arrange to have a portion of the firearms shipped from England to Copenhagen diverted to Iceland. The price, however, would be higher.”

Chapter 13: The Exploitation of the Works of Nature

Icelanders generally did not haggle during transactions, but Haldor, who owned merchant ships, was clearly an exception.

After a brief negotiation with Hongrode, fifteen mark silver coins could buy a matchlock musket, and half a mark could get a pack of lead bullets and gunpowder.

Haldor purchased ten matchlock muskets and five crates of ammunition, paying a deposit of one crate of mark silver coins.

Iceland did not have a standard currency. The crate of silver coins contained British silver pennies, shillings, and golden Rhine shields, which looked like gold but had low actual gold content and were used as silver coins.

Hongrode calculated for a long time—Olaf estimated about an hour.

Finally, Hongrode figured out that the crate of silver and gold coins together amounted to one hundred and sixty marks. He then calculated a bit more, rubbing his forehead, and said, “I’ll take one hundred and sixty marks as the deposit, making the total one hundred and eighty marks. I’ll write a letter and send someone to Copenhagen. It will take at least a month.”

Olaf lightly kicked his father’s heel. Haldor stood up and shook hands with Hongrode, saying, “Pleasure doing business with you, Elder Hongrode.”

After agreeing on the time, Haldor bid farewell and left.

The father and son first ate some dry rations, then Haldor took Olaf back to the church school in the southern district before leaving.

Today was Sunday. Olaf’s roommates—Tom, Solrak, and another child from a local merchant family in the big port, Zerimi—would not return until the afternoon.

After greeting his teacher, Elder Amie, Olaf followed Pastor Ilugi to help prepare for the Sunday mass.

After the series of activities—prayers, communion, and hymns—ended, Olaf felt exhausted. He drank a cup of grape juice, ate a few bites of pancakes, and then returned to his dormitory for a nap.

When he woke up, his three roommates had all returned one after another.

Olaf once again returned to the dull and uninteresting life of the church school. However, while he endured and studied hard, he knew his age was still too young to do many things independently. In just five or six more years, once he turned sixteen, he would be taken seriously and able to accomplish many things on his own.

While attending classes and singing hymns every day, Olaf also thought about ways to make money, which had become his top priority in recent years.

Iceland, limited by its small population and low productivity, had almost no way to make money except for its geothermal resources, which could be used for hot springs.

From around the tenth century to the present, Iceland’s walruses had been hunted to extinction for their valuable ivory. Before the Black Death spread, Icelanders could live well by exporting rare animal furs and walrus tusks.

But now, with Europe’s population greatly reduced and years of war causing countries to invest their funds in recruiting soldiers, armaments, shipbuilding, and colonization, the demand for luxury goods had decreased significantly. Of course, Iceland could no longer provide them.

As a result, Icelanders now barely survived on the rich marine resources of the North Sea and the wool and sheepskins from the island, while still having to pay various taxes that were no lower than those collected during the Catholic era.

Olaf was well aware that his father had to pay taxes when he sold sheep, and taxes were also due when the crops grew. Basically, after deducting the food for the family, the remaining yield from the fields was just enough to pay the taxes.

To truly make money in Iceland, besides developing agriculture and livestock, the only option was to increase income from fishing. However, agriculture relied on advanced planting and management techniques, while fishing depended on advanced boats and tools, as well as subsequent storage, preservation, and curing methods.

Neither of these was something Olaf could solve.

In fact, in today’s Europe, if one had a ship, startup capital, and courage, the most profitable venture was to trade in the Far East. However, this required the consent of England, Spain, and the Netherlands, as well as paying sufficient protection fees. Otherwise, the armed merchant ships of the three countries controlling Far Eastern trade could turn to piracy at any time.

Olaf weighed his age and his family’s funds and ultimately gave up on the possibility of overseas trade, instead focusing on agricultural development.

Among the numerous nations and ethnic groups on the continents of the world, if one were to rank agricultural cultivation, the ancient Eastern country would undoubtedly be at the top in any century.

Even now, during the Ming Dynasty, China’s agriculture was several times more advanced than Europe’s.

In his previous life, Olaf had studied for the civil service exam and learned a lot of historical, encyclopedic, and political knowledge. He remembered that the Ming Dynasty had produced three treasures in the field of biological technology: Li Shizhen’s Compendium of Materia Medica, Xu Guangqi’s Complete Treatise on Agriculture, and Song Yingxing’s The Exploitation of the Works of Nature.

Olaf recalled that in history, these three books were not introduced to Europe until a hundred or two hundred years later. At that time, the bellows for iron smelting and fire-making in The Exploitation of the Works of Nature helped Europe open the door to the Industrial Revolution. Industries such as sericulture, planting, textiles, sugar making, and ceramics also rapidly improved. However, the Qing Dynasty of the same era, still basking in the glory of the Kangxi and Qianlong reigns, could not extricate itself. The Qianlong Emperor even listed The Exploitation of the Works of Nature as a forbidden book, so that hundreds of years later, the only surviving Ming Dynasty edition could only be found in Japan.

Olaf knew that in all of Europe, he might be the only one who could read Chinese characters. As long as he could ask British merchants to bring back these three divine books, he could slowly study them and then gradually introduce them to make a fortune. He could become Iceland’s richest man, the richest in Scandinavia, or even the richest in Europe.

Olaf was well aware of the value of these three books. They were the crystallization of wisdom from a five-thousand-year-old civilization. If he translated and spread them, Europe’s agriculture, heavy industry, and light industry, which lagged behind the Ming Dynasty, would quickly improve by one or two levels and soon surpass the East.

Of course, Olaf would not do such a thing. First, he still had lingering affection for the ancient Eastern country and hoped for the Ming Dynasty to be strong.

Second, doing so would not benefit him.

The Compendium of Materia Medica also contained medical prescriptions. Olaf thought that using them directly would be enough to outperform European doctors who only knew bloodletting. This would not only make money but also ensure his own life.

The Complete Treatise on Agriculture could increase crop yields. Once he learned it, his family’s twenty-four thousand acres of farmland could see a two- or three-fold, or even three- or four-fold, increase in production. This would mean an increase in annual income, and over time, farming alone could make him a wealthy man.

The Exploitation of the Works of Nature was even more remarkable. This encyclopedia was the supreme guide to improving the foundations of agricultural and industrial development. As long as he obtained it, he could change the situation in Europe.

Olaf felt he must get these three books. Currently, the only way to buy them was through England, Spain, and the Dutch Republic of the Seven United Provinces.

But Olaf’s family was too far from Spain and the Netherlands and had no acquaintances there. Haldor was only familiar with English merchants, so Olaf was somewhat impatient to go home and have his father ask British merchants to buy a batch of Ming Dynasty books.

After several agonizing days, it was finally Friday afternoon.

The three eagerly awaiting children heard the familiar sound of copper bells and horse whinnies while scrubbing the floor—Jot had arrived.

In the evening, just as night fell, Jot drove the carriage and took the three children back to the village.

Olaf and Solrak got off the carriage and each went home.

Entering the house, the light golden-haired Half and the almost white-haired Gerny cheered and hugged Olaf.

“Oh, my dear brother and sister. Did you miss me?” Olaf ruffled the hair of his two siblings, who only came up to his chest, and said lightly.

Half had thick eyebrows and big eyes, with a small scar at the corner of his eye from a mischievous fall. He admired his second brother, who was undefeated in the village, and was endlessly curious about the outside world. He asked, “Brother, when you weren’t home, the kids from Elrond’s neighboring village bullied me. I couldn’t beat them.”

“I’ll tell Halik. If anything happens, go to him.” Olaf smiled and patted Half’s shoulder.

Half cheered and let go, saying, “If Big Brother Halik can help me, I’ll beat up all the Elrond kids.”

Gerny had big, round eyes, and her sky-blue eyes were as pure as the Vatnajökull glacier. She inherited her mother’s gentleness and touched Olaf’s face, softly asking, “Brother Olaf, you’ve gotten thinner. I missed you so much.”

This week, Olaf had been lost in thoughts about the “scientific journals” from the distant East, so he had been eating and drinking less, which made him a bit thinner. He chuckled, hugged his sister, and patted her shoulder, softly comforting her, “I missed you too. Gerny, have you been eating well?”

The moonlight shone at the doorway, casting long shadows of the three Olaf siblings.

Chapter 14: The Hammer of Thor

Brother and sister were in conversation when Haldor and his wife heard their voices and came out, pulling Olaf back into the room to serve him a still-warm meal.

After Olaf had eaten his fill, Katrin noticed he had something to say, so she took Half and Gerny into the inner room.

Olaf sipped his hot water and glanced at his father, noticing his distracted expression. He smiled and asked, “What’s wrong, Papa?”

Haldor rubbed his hands together, his face shifting slightly as he spoke in a hoarse voice, “This morning, I received notice that on the tenth of next month—the same day the governor convenes the court assembly—things might come to a head.”

“Don’t worry, Papa,” Olaf said, his expression darkening. After a moment’s thought, he lowered his voice, “With the Hrut family’s saga protecting us, Lord Kolsvin wouldn’t dare act against you. And the other chiefs will speak for our family.”

“I think we’ll be fine. But Kolsvin is the late king’s illegitimate son, King Christian’s half-brother. Even if he has no status or power, he’s not someone to be trifled with. If he disregards the consequences and insists on avenging Sigfoss, which chief could stop him? It’s not impossible.”

Haldor was worried, and Olaf considered his words. Though he believed it unlikely the governor would forcefully intervene for Sigfoss, everyone in Iceland knew that Sigfoss’s daughter was deeply favored by her husband, Kolsvin. A well-placed whisper in the bedroom could change everything.

Olaf thought about how, in just three weeks, the Hongrode family would deliver ten muskets. Combined with the two old, clumsy matchlocks they already had, their family would possess twelve firearms, along with dozens of knives, swords, axes, and iron hammers. They also had leather armor, horned helmets, and worn plate armor.

If the governor truly acted against them at next month’s assembly, Olaf believed they would have to fight to the death.

Ever since his rebirth, Olaf had dreamed of great achievements. Eight years ago, when he had tricked his uncle Haig into going to North America, it had been a deliberate attempt to guide him toward colonization. Deep down, Olaf had always harbored the idea of going to America to colonize—or even found a nation—when he grew up.

“If the governor really moves against us, Father, we’ll do as we planned. We’ll pretend to submit to Sigfoss’s bullying. When he sends people to seize our land and wealth, we’ll strike back, kill them, and then take the entire village—men, women, and children—by force onto the ship and sail to join my uncle Haig.”

Olaf’s childish face trembled with excitement, but his eyes burned with fierce determination. Haldor felt a surge of heat in his chest and declared, “Good! If Sigfoss and the governor leave us no choice, we’ll act. But we need to plan early. Tomorrow, I’ll have your mother speak to your uncles Kadir and Hoskuld, and we’ll inform Jot and Hrutik in advance. When the time comes, we’ll act swiftly—no one must escape.”

Jot and Haldor were close, and their group of over a dozen strong, battle-ready men were the toughest in the village. Haldor was the village chief, and Jot was his second-in-command, so if it came to killing and rebellion, Haldor needed to discuss it with Jot first, giving him time to prepare mentally.

Hrutik was Haldor’s first mate, an archer, and a whaler—a Swiss mercenary from the Schwyz region who had fought in wars across many nations. In 1612, he was recruited by King Christian IV of Denmark for the Kalmar campaign, which captured the Swedish city of Kalmar within months.

Hrutik was severely wounded in that battle and left for dead, but Haldor, who was transporting supplies to the front, saved him. The two formed a deep bond, and after the war, Hrutik retired from the military and, at Haldor’s invitation, came to Iceland to serve as his deputy.

Olaf had met his father’s closest brothers and knew of their deep friendship, so when he heard his father’s decision, he said no more and went to sleep.

Haldor, restless with worry, set out early the next morning with provisions, riding his horse to find Jot. Together, they rode northeast toward the upper reaches of the Hvítá River.

Haldor’s large cog ship, over fifty meters long, was moored in a river bay upstream, guarded by Hrutik and a sailor.

Both Haldor and Jot were skilled riders, and by evening, they reached the bay.

A thin mist hung over the water, but through the haze, they could make out the familiar silhouette of their merchant ship, the Hammer of Thor.

At the sight of their ship, Haldor and Jot relaxed. Then, they shouted at the top of their lungs, “Hrutik!”

A yellow-bearded man with a sword scar on his cheek, holding a bow, had eagle-like eyes that flashed with recognition. His forearm muscles relaxed as he saw Haldor and Jot emerge from the forest on horseback. A faint smile played on his lips as he lowered his bow.

Moments later, Haldor and Hrutik embraced warmly on the deck. Nearby, the sailor Hilt secured the gangplank, while Jot stepped forward to shake Hrutik’s hand.

After a few pleasantries, the three men entered the cabin and sat down. Haldor patted the young sailor Hilt on the shoulder and smiled. “Little Hilt, you’re the boy I found in England. But you’re clever—I’m sure you’ve learned a lot from Hrutik. Keep it up, and in a few years, I’ll help you find a wife.”

Twenty-year-old Hilt was a stutterer. His face flushed as he struggled to speak, gesturing excitedly.

Haldor, Jot, and Hrutik laughed, then ordered Hilt to fetch some wine.

After finishing a bottle, Hrutik and Jot learned of Haldor’s plans. Hrutik, unmarried and not an Icelander, fully supported Haldor’s decision.

“I’ve heard America is full of gold, and land is free for the taking. With our skills, we can surely claim a piece of it,” Hrutik laughed, patting the quiver at his waist.

Jot seemed simple, but he was just not talkative. He had his own ideas and, after some thought, squinted and said, “Hrutik, you don’t know yet, but eight years ago, Haig already claimed land in Vinland. If we go, we should go to Vinland.”

“Good idea,” Hrutik said, looking at Haldor in surprise, as if amazed by his foresight.

Haldor sighed bitterly and said in a low voice, “Back then, Haig was fleeing for his life. I couldn’t reveal his whereabouts. Now, to save our lives, I’ve asked Elder Amie to write a saga, so I’m afraid all of Iceland knows by now.”

Jot explained the situation to Hrutik, who laughed heartily and took another sip of wine, his face flushed. “With Haig in Vinland, our retreat is secure. But I’ve heard America is full of Indian savages—what the Icelanders call Skrælings. Though they’re primitive, they’re numerous. If we want to settle there long-term, we’ll need more people.”

“I thought about it all night. If it comes to action, and Sigfoss sends people to Hrut Village, I want you to help me kill Sigfoss’s men. Then, we’ll take all the villagers of Hrut Village and leave Iceland on this Hammer of Thor. If any villagers refuse, we’ll have to force them.”

Haldor’s expression was unsettled, his tone hesitant.

The moment Haldor spoke, the cabin fell silent, save for the faint sound of breathing.

After a long while, just as Hrutik was about to lose patience and demand Jot’s stance, Jot sighed deeply and gritted his teeth. “If they come to confiscate your property, it won’t just be Sigfoss’s men—there will be guards and tax officials from the governor’s office. If we kill them, it’ll implicate the whole village. It’s better to take the entire village with us.

Haldor, you’re the chief, and the Hrut family are the ancestors’ masters. By both duty and reason, we must stand with you. I’ll speak to the men in the village. The old, women, and children don’t matter, but the men who run the households won’t want to leave. To make this work, you’ll have to promise them rewards—hand out some gold and silver.”

Jot’s declaration instantly warmed the atmosphere in the cabin.

Haldor’s face relaxed as he patted his chest in assurance. “Jot, don’t worry. I’ll divide this year’s harvest among everyone. In Vinland, for every piece of land you have in Iceland, I’ll give you twice as much. Jot, can you make this work?”

Jot’s brows relaxed slightly, and he nodded. “With these terms, I can try. First, I’ll speak to our closest ten or so men. On that day, the rest won’t have a choice.”

Chapter 15: Uncle

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Olaf continued his monotonous life at the church school, but even on weekends when he returned home, he rarely saw Haldor. On the few occasions he did, he found his father polishing his war hammer and long knife, and training his body in the early mornings.

Olaf clearly sensed that Haldor was preparing for the upcoming court assembly, making preparations for the worst-case scenario.

This sense of foresight made Olaf admire his father even more. He felt that his father was reliable and possessed many qualities of a successful man.

August was the warmest month of the year in Iceland.

Although the nights still required a thick fur blanket, during the day, one only needed to wear a thicker robe. Compared to the bitter cold of June and October, August was the most pleasant.

On Friday after school, Olaf was taken by his father, who had come to Big Port, to a village in the northern district. As they approached a dark stone house, Haldor called out, and a thin, short man with black curly hair emerged, laughing heartily as he embraced Haldor.

“My dear brother-in-law, you’ve finally arrived,” Olaf’s uncle, Hoskuld, turned and lifted Olaf, smiling as he said, “I heard Olaf is studying at the church school in the southern district. I’ve been wanting to invite him over for a visit. How are you finding the church school, boy?”

Olaf now knew that many years ago, his maternal grandfather had died at sea while raiding, and his grandmother had remarried, taking his mother, Katrin, and his uncle Hoskuld with her. Later, she had given birth to another son, Kadir.

Kadir lived in Gray Mountain Village, northeast of White Hazel Forest Hrut Village. Having inherited his father’s position, he was the leader and tax collector of this small village, his status not much different from Haldor’s.

Both younger brothers had a very good relationship with their eldest sister, Katrin, and were even closer to their brother-in-law, Haldor. Thus, they were people the Haldor family could completely trust in Iceland.

Olaf politely answered his uncle’s questions, and then Hoskuld’s two sons came out to greet Haldor and Olaf.

Hoskuld had fathered four children, but two had died young. His two remaining sons had grown up and were working with him in Big Port.

The eldest son, Kalm, was twenty years old and looked very much like Hoskuld.

The second son, Kalhu, was sixteen but already taller than his father and brother. He had just graduated from the church school last year and was now an apprentice scribe under the tax official at the governor’s mansion. It was Kalhu who had informed Hoskuld about Sigfoss and the governor’s plans against Haldor.

“Haldor and Olaf, stay with me until the court assembly begins next Tuesday. Then we’ll go to the governor’s mansion together.”

Hoskuld enthusiastically pulled Haldor and his son into the room, excitedly saying, “Tomorrow, Kadir will bring his son-in-law over. Let’s have a good drink tonight.”

Haldor nodded and smiled, “Good. No matter what happens at the court assembly, we’re prepared. Let’s relax these few days and see how things go next Tuesday.”

“Right,” Hoskuld narrowed his eyes, his tone somewhat sinister, “The worst that could happen is killing someone and fleeing. Vinland has Haig, we have a way out.”

Olaf and his two cousins sat to the side, cracking hazelnuts and listening to their elders talk. The two cousins showed no change in expression, clearly understanding and supporting their fathers’ plans.

Olaf knew that his father had met with his two uncles last month. From their conversation now, it was clear that both uncles were willing to stand with the Haldor family.

As they talked, night gradually fell. The animal fat lamps inside the house lit up, making the room much brighter.

Olaf’s aunt and two cousins brought out several dishes: smoked sheep’s head, boiled sheep intestines and meat, fried salmon, smoked sea birds, boiled carrots, a pot of oatmeal porridge, and black bread.

Everyone took a plate and ate while chatting. After finishing their meal, Hoskuld and Haldor each took a bottle of wine and sat to the side, drinking heavily.

In the small room next door, Olaf and his two cousins, curious about the history of the Hrut family and Haig’s adventures, boasted for a while. In the name of their uncle Haig, they spoke knowledgeably about the Far East, mentioning wonders like the Great Wall, the Forbidden City in Beijing, and the Porcelain Tower of Nanjing, which left the two cousins in awe.

“Is there really a wall made of stone that stretches for thousands of miles? That must be amazing.”

“The emperor of the Ming Dynasty really lives in a palace with tens of thousands of rooms? They must be incredibly rich.”

Olaf grinned and said, “In Iceland, apart from the governor and the richest leaders, no one else has used silk, porcelain, or tea, all of which come from the Ming Dynasty.”

“Oh, I’ve seen a blue bottle at Lord Amir’s house. He said it was eastern porcelain, very expensive,” the eldest cousin, Kalm, clapped his hands, excitedly recalling the porcelain bottle he had seen at the tavern owner’s house in Big Port.

Kalhu scoffed and whispered, “The front part of the governor’s mansion is the assembly hall, and the back part is the governor’s residence. I’ve seen a lot of porcelain there. It’s indeed beautiful. I heard that one of the governor’s porcelain bottles could be exchanged for a ship.”

“Oh, that valuable?”

After talking for a while, Olaf felt sleepy. He poured some hot water into the washbasin and washed his hands and face.

The two cousins were still eager for more and muttered about wanting to go to the Far East once.

Olaf wiped his upper arms, thinking to himself: I want to go see it too, but it might be a long time before that happens.

The next morning, after waking up, Olaf began doing push-ups and sit-ups.

The two cousins, who were sleeping in the same room, got up and curiously watched for a while before trying to imitate the exercises, but they quickly found it strenuous.

“Olaf, are you training your body? Is this exercise effective?” Kalhu asked, rubbing his stomach.

Olaf finished a hundred push-ups in one go before standing up and smiling, “This is a great exercise. You can try it too, but you need to control your breathing and not rush the movements.”

Just as Olaf was teaching his cousins how to exercise, a long horse’s neigh came from outside, followed by the laughter of Hoskuld and Haldor.

Olaf had a sudden realization and knew that his other uncle, Kadir, had arrived.

Sure enough, after a moment, Hoskuld shouted from outside, “Kalm, Kalhu, Olaf, come out quickly. Your Uncle Kadir is here.”

Since the Icelandic language, like English, Danish, French, and others, did not distinguish between uncles, aunts, and other relatives with specific terms, one had to determine the exact relationship based on the context.

Olaf and his two cousins pushed open the door and saw Haldor and Hoskuld talking with two men.

One of the men was tall with golden hair, bulging eyes, and a fierce-looking face covered in scars. He stood in the house, about the same height as Haldor, and a head taller than Hoskuld.

Next to the golden-haired man was a younger man who looked about thirty years old. This man had clear eyes, a high nose bridge, but a somewhat thin build.

Olaf quickly went over and hugged the golden-haired man, affectionately saying, “Uncle Kadir.”

Kadir pulled off his wolfskin cloak with his left hand and patted Olaf’s head with his right, softly saying, “My little Olaf is here too. Good boy, you’ve grown taller.”

Over the past ten years, Kadir had more interactions with the Haldor family, so Olaf was more familiar with Kadir.

After some conversation, Olaf learned that the man standing next to Kadir was his new son-in-law, Heiner, who had married his cousin Fanshil last year. Heiner was a Scottish nobleman who had lost his land and estate due to a failed struggle and had fled to Iceland, where Kadir had taken him in and made him his son-in-law.

Last year, when Fanshil and Heiner got married, Haldor and Katrin had attended the wedding. Olaf had stayed in the village to learn writing at the church school. At that time, Katrin had praised Heiner for being handsome and having a noble demeanor.

Now, Olaf took a good look at his cousin’s husband and indeed found him to be quite good-looking. As for his character and abilities, that remained to be seen.

Chapter 16: Court Assembly

Staying at Hoskuld’s home, Olaf felt there wasn’t much to do besides spinning tales to entertain his two cousins.

Haldor, Hoskuld, and Kadir spent their days drinking, chatting idly, and sparring. Haldor’s build matched Kadir’s, but his combat experience was far greater, allowing him to hold his own even when fighting two-on-one.

Heiner, meanwhile, spent all day poring over a thin book. Olaf caught a glimpse of the cover—it was printed in English, titled The Prince.

After a moment’s thought, Olaf realized this was a political treatise from the Renaissance, later revered by many kings, great leaders, and dictators as a guiding text. In later eras, it was considered a banned political work for advocating the separation—or even opposition—of politics and morality. It preached that goodness leads to ruin while cruelty ensures stability, that human nature is inherently evil, and that rulers must control their subjects through force and constant vigilance.

Olaf hadn’t read it in his past life but had seen academic critiques of The Prince. Still, he felt a strange familiarity—its ideas reminded him of China’s Legalist philosophy from over two thousand years ago.

The Prince argued that human nature is selfish, that rulers must control the people’s fundamental interests, and that a ruler must be both as fierce as a lion and as cunning as a fox. “Unarmed prophets fail; armed prophets succeed.” The “arms” here referred to military power, wealth, and intellect. The lion’s ferocity was the military, the fox’s cunning was the mind. With these, a ruler could secure wealth, intimidate subjects, bind their interests to his own, and brainwash them—only then would his rule be unshakable.

Legalist thought was similar but even more comprehensive. Chinese rulers used Confucian ethics, the Mandate of Heaven, and the hierarchical structure of scholar-officials, farmers, artisans, and merchants to maintain feudal rule. No matter who sat on the throne, the system persisted.

The ideal of “inner sage, outer king” was the ultimate goal for Chinese rulers—philosophically superior to The Prince’s focus on external dominance while neglecting inner cultivation. Yet in thousands of years of history, few had achieved it. The founders of dynasties like Qin, Han, Tang, and Song either lacked the means or the moral refinement to reach Confucian perfection.

Heiner’s book sparked many thoughts in Olaf. Curious, he cautiously asked what the book was about. Perhaps because of Olaf’s age and status, Heiner seemed at ease and eagerly explained.

After listening for a while, Olaf gained a deeper understanding of Heiner. From his words, Olaf deduced that Heiner was a high-ranking Scottish noble, possibly even related to the royal family. Now fallen from grace, he had fled to Iceland after his family’s wealth was seized, determined to return, seek vengeance, and reclaim his inheritance. That was why he was studying The Prince—a manual for tyrannical rule.

Though Heiner seemed somewhat neurotic, his eyes gleamed as he discussed The Prince. Olaf had to admit that as a noble, Heiner had a strong cultural foundation and a keen grasp of the text. If given power, he might become an extraordinary figure.

For various reasons, Olaf took a liking to Heiner. He expanded on Heiner’s points, introducing some of Han Fei’s ideas, which left Heiner stunned.

“Olaf, how can someone so young think of such things? Good heavens!”

Heiner’s face paled as if he had seen a demon, but he couldn’t help but ponder Olaf’s words.

“In a war-torn age, harsh laws must constrain the people, forcing them to follow the ruler’s will—farming and fighting. Wealth comes only from agriculture and state-regulated trade. Status rises only through military merit, not inherited privilege. With such laws, the ruler’s wars cannot fail.”

Heiner thought of Europe’s great kings, who had risen through war and ruthless measures. He admired Olaf’s words, seeing him as a sage despite his youth. It felt surreal.

Olaf smiled. “I once heard stories from the Far East—of the Ming Dynasty. Two thousand years ago, China was in a Warring States period, much like Europe now. Philosophers wrote books to persuade rulers to adopt their ideas. One school was called Legalism. What I just said comes from their teachings.”

“Ah,” Heiner recovered, his unease fading. He looked at Olaf warmly. “I never knew the Ming had such great thinkers so long ago. Truly the richest and most powerful nation in the world.”

Because Olaf had shared ideas Heiner admired, Heiner’s opinion of him improved. He began to see Olaf as mature beyond his years, treating him like an adult. This gave Heiner a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time—like he was back in Scotland, a lord once more.

Three days passed quickly, and soon it was August 10th—a Tuesday, the day of Iceland’s annual court assembly.

From the 8th to 9th centuries, Iceland had become a refuge for Scandinavian Vikings fleeing political oppression. By the 10th century, it had become a highly autonomous region, effectively a nation governed by a council of Godi chiefs. The court assembly was where these chiefs gathered to interact with foreign nations.

Initially, each Godi ruled independently, and the assembly only convened annually to mediate disputes among chiefs and freemen. The harshest punishment was exile—minor offenses sent one to Iceland’s desolate islands, while major ones meant banishment to Greenland.

After the 10th century, the assembly was held during the warmest season, originally lasting ten days. After converting to Christianity, it was shortened to a week.

Even after Iceland became part of Norway and Denmark in the 11th century, governed by royal appointees, the annual assembly persisted. Normally, the governor handled trade, taxes, and justice, but during the assembly, he would gather Iceland’s chiefs to discuss taxes and settle cases.

Over time, the assembly also became a period for private barter and trade among the chiefs, much like the festive gatherings in Ming Dynasty villages.

Chapter 17: The Governor of Iceland

On Tuesday, Haldor, Olaf, and the others woke up early, had some bread and milk, and then set out together toward the central district.

The sun had just risen, and the dirt road was already bustling with laborers in tattered clothes hurrying toward the docks.

After passing through several alleys, they arrived at the central district.

The lawn in front of the Governor’s Mansion was already packed with people. Olaf observed that they were all dressed in Nordic-style robes and hats—likely the various local leaders from across Iceland.

Haldor, Hoskuld, and Kadir each had acquaintances, so they led Olaf, Kalm, and Heiner forward to greet them. Kalhu had already gone to the Governor’s Mansion early to attend to the tax official.

The court assembly had not yet begun, but the attitude of the leaders toward Haldor had noticeably changed. After all, the story of the Hrut family had spread far and wide, and both Haldor and Haig had become local celebrities.

These leaders were also eager to befriend Haldor, hoping to secure their place in history.

As they chatted, the doors of the three-story assembly hall in front of the Governor’s Mansion were opened by guards. A young black-haired official stepped out and called loudly, “All leaders, please enter and take your seats.”

A village leader from the northern district of Big Port, who was Kadir’s cousin, whispered, “That young man is Sigfoss’s nephew. Sigfoss hasn’t arrived yet—probably waiting until midday to come with the Governor and the three new church elders.”

The crowd entered the assembly hall through the stone pillars and sat down on the wooden chairs inside. Some of the more boisterous men had already taken out small bottles of liquor from their pockets and were drinking merrily in groups.

Haldor instructed Heiner and Kalm to keep an eye on Olaf while he, Hoskuld, and Kadir moved through the crowd, greeting the various leaders and church elders.

In Iceland, the most powerful figures besides the Governor were the elders of the three church districts—south, north, and central. Originally, the local leaders had managed their own affairs without much interference, but ever since Sigfoss had aligned himself with Governor Kolsvin, he had become the most formidable and highest-ranking leader in Iceland.

After a long, noisy wait, the air growing stifling, the back door finally opened. Kalhu and the same official from Sigfoss’s family escorted several middle-aged and elderly officials with protruding bellies inside.

The leading official, his hair streaked with gray, clapped his hands and shouted in a booming voice, “Silence, everyone!”

Someone recognized him as Agran, the tax official of the Governor’s Mansion, who held authority over tax collection in all regions. Originally Governor Kolsvin’s steward, he had risen to prominence in Iceland and was now the second most powerful man on the island.

The leaders knew that Agran’s appearance meant the Governor was about to arrive.

As Agran spoke, another man emerged from the door—a middle-aged man dressed in a Danish-style pleated robe and a gentleman’s hat. He was slender and refined, with gentle eyes and a faint smile.

Haldor narrowed his eyes and leaned down to whisper in Olaf’s ear, “That’s Sigfoss.”

Olaf studied the ruthless leader of Big Port carefully and couldn’t help but marvel inwardly: You can’t judge a book by its cover. He looks like a scholar, yet he’s the enemy, Sigfoss.

Sigfoss scanned the room with a smile, pausing briefly on Haldor before bowing deeply with Agran toward the door, calling out, “We humbly welcome the Governor!”

A series of sharp clicks echoed as a fair-skinned young man with gray curly hair entered. He wore a velvet blue robe with intricate floral patterns, the train trailing behind him in lace folds. His expression was one of arrogance and severity.

The leaders quickly bowed, pressing their hands to their chests as they greeted him in unison, “Greetings, Governor!”

Olaf was shorter than most in the crowd, so even though he didn’t bow, he was hidden from view. Through a gap, he caught sight of Governor Kolsvin’s thin autumn undergarments beneath his ceremonial robe and his brown leather high-heeled shoes with sky-blue heels. The bizarre combination, paired with his handsome features and average height, struck Olaf as utterly grotesque, devoid of any beauty.

No one else in the assembly hall found anything odd about Kolsvin’s attire. The fashion of the time had its own standards, and Kolsvin’s outfit was actually quite refined. Without his Danish royal bloodline, his position as Governor of Iceland wouldn’t have granted him the right to wear such garments.

In other words, Kolsvin’s attire was a deliberate display of his status and authority.

“Please, take your seats,” Kolsvin said, his heels clicking as he walked to the sofa on the raised platform against the eastern wall. He gestured to the seats beside him and smiled. “Elder Orikel, Elder Hongrode, Elder Amie, and Lord Sigfoss, please sit.”

After Kolsvin’s entrance, three priests in gold-embroidered robes with silver crosses on their chests followed him inside. These were the three leaders of Iceland’s new church: Orikel, the elder of the central district church; Amie, the elder of the southern district church; and Hongrode, the elder of the northern district church.

The three elders and Sigfoss took their seats beside Kolsvin, and the rest of the crowd followed suit.

Agran sat on a high stool to the left and shouted, “The Icelandic court assembly is now in session! This year’s agricultural taxes remain unchanged. However, due to our nation’s ongoing campaign against Germany, additional military funds are required. The Governor has decided to increase the royal tribute and weapon maintenance fees. Each region will contribute different amounts based on size. I will now announce the war tribute and other fees for each district: Orik Village—two hundred silver marks, Beri District—three hundred marks, White Hazel Forest Hrut Village—four hundred silver marks, Will Village—”

Before Agran could finish, the assembly hall erupted in chaos. The leaders began complaining loudly, their faces flushed as they protested the impossibility of paying such exorbitant war tributes.

Icelandic leaders actually enjoyed considerable autonomy, but they still had to negotiate with each governor. After all, governors relied on various taxes to amass wealth, and the local leaders could usually meet their demands by collecting a little extra from their people. Many tax officials and village leaders even profited from these levies, so no one really objected to the system.

After all, the common folk are like wheat—if you don’t harvest them, how can the lords grow rich? Even in the poorest lands, as long as there are people, you can squeeze out some profit.

But this year, the Governor’s war tribute was simply too much. For White Hazel Forest Hrut Village, four hundred silver marks meant each household would have to pay over ten silver marks—equivalent to three gold marks or five French gold écus.

A horse, the most expensive livestock, sold for only eight or nine gold coins, and a cow was worth five gold coins. A cow or ten silver marks was already enough to sustain an ordinary family for four or five years of hard work. For the impoverished free folk of Iceland, suddenly being taxed the equivalent of a cow was nearly impossible.

But Governor Kolsvin was known for his iron fist. His status was noble, and he commanded a hundred guards. The Icelandic leaders didn’t dare to be too disrespectful, so they merely argued heatedly with Agran, their faces red with frustration.

Chapter 18: War Contribution

Kolsvin sat motionless, silent, waiting until the others had argued for half a day. Then, the three elders rose one by one to persuade everyone to contribute to the great cause of spreading the new faith. This time, the chieftains could only listen in resigned silence—regardless of whether they wanted to pay, they had to give the elders face.

After the three elders had spoken, Governor Kolsvin cleared his throat and stood, looking down at the dozens of chieftains in the hall.

“The war contribution must be paid.”

The icy words filled the room with humiliation and anger. Just as the atmosphere grew tense, Sigfoss suddenly stood, stroking his neatly trimmed beard, and said, “Our king is fighting on the front lines against the mercenaries of the Holy Roman Empire. As subjects of the Danish Kingdom, it is our duty to pay the contribution. However, the amount set by Governor Kolsvin is rather high. We may not be able to gather it all at once. Could we pay half now and the rest next year?”

Sigfoss’s status meant Kolsvin could not ignore him. After a moment’s thought, Kolsvin waved his hand dismissively. “Discuss this matter privately with Agran. Some adjustments can be made.”

Kolsvin’s words were like heavenly music, relieving most of the chieftains.

Olaf watched warily, sneering inwardly: Kolsvin, Sigfoss, the three elders, and Agran are clearly putting on a show. Either Denmark isn’t demanding much in war contributions, or they aren’t demanding any at all. They’re just tricking the sixty-odd chieftains of Iceland into handing over money.

Though Olaf found Kolsvin and Sigfoss’s tactics simple, he had to admit they were effective against the stubborn Icelanders.

The chieftains, who had originally wanted a reduction of more than half, were swayed by Sigfoss’s suggestion to pay half now and the rest the following year. This made Olaf more wary of Sigfoss and Kolsvin, suspecting they might be cunning and full of schemes.

Kolsvin passed the problem to his subordinate, and the chaotic debate began.

Agran was surrounded by chieftains discussing the contribution. After half a day of heated arguments, they finally agreed to let the chieftains pay half now and the rest the following summer, but with an additional ten percent interest.

First, the situation was stronger than the people. Second, the Danish Kingdom had won consecutive victories in two years of war and had reportedly occupied several regions in northern Germany. The stronger the Danish Kingdom became, the less the Icelandic chieftains dared to defy the governor. After all, they could not afford to provoke Denmark across the sea.

By the time each chieftain had signed the contribution receipt and agreed on the payment date, an hour had passed. It was nearly afternoon, and Kolsvin ordered everyone to eat at the governor’s mansion.

After waiting for a long time, each person was given a portion of boiled venison and black bread, which filled their stomachs.

After eating, Agran announced the end of the first day’s court assembly, to be continued the next morning.

The next morning, Haldor and his group returned to the assembly hall, where the chieftains from various regions reported on population growth, deaths, and criminal cases.

For two days, Olaf listened to the affairs of other villages, feeling dizzy and nauseated. On the third morning, the discussion was still about the northwestern region’s chieftains debating the exile of a rapist.

After a while, the hall suddenly fell silent. Then, Weis, the chieftain of Comb Valley and Sigfoss’s son-in-law, stood up, walked to the governor, pointed at Haldor, and sneered, “Governor, recently a story about the Hrut family has been circulating in Iceland. I know it was written by Elder Amie, and I respect the story. But the people in it are not good. That Haig is a murderer, still at large in America. I strongly demand severe punishment for Haig and Haldor, who sheltered him. Otherwise, Iceland’s laws will lose their authority. The Law Rock of Thingvellir still stands, and we must not forget the oaths of our ancestors.”

Weis’s words were like a bolt from the blue, startling everyone in the assembly hall.

Haldor and his group had been on guard against Sigfoss’s outburst but did not expect him to use Weis instead. This was somewhat unexpected for Haldor.

Kolsvin remained silent, as did the three new elders.

Sigfoss glanced at Agran, who stood and echoed, “Indeed, Iceland’s stability requires upholding the sanctity of the law. I suggest the governor re-examine the case from eight years ago and give Sigfoss an answer.”

Kadir scoffed, raising his voice, “Haig may have killed someone, but it was in a duel. Duels are a matter of life and death, and that’s not even considering that Haldor compensated Sigfoss with ten thousand marks eight years ago. Isn’t that enough?”

“Of course not,” Sigfoss suddenly stood, his face ashen, his eyes fierce. “If my son were still alive, in eight years, under my guidance, he would have developed a fleet, traded in wool and linen, and earned more than twenty thousand marks by now. Without Haldor’s protection, Haig would not have escaped eight years ago. Since Haig is not here, Haldor must take his place and be punished. The punishment eight years ago was too lenient. I ask the governor to re-examine the case.”

As he spoke, Sigfoss bowed to Kolsvin, then began to weep bitterly about the pain of losing his son.

Supporters of Sigfoss and Haldor began to argue.

According to Iceland’s ancient laws, Haldor and Sigfoss had settled their accounts. But under Danish law, the responsibility of a murderer must still be pursued. Haldor had sheltered and helped Haig escape, and though he was not guilty, the governor could re-examine the case from eight years ago and increase Haldor’s punishment.

This was exactly what Sigfoss had planned—to ruin the Haldor family, seize their property, and take revenge. But his main goal was money and land.

Though Kolsvin had previously agreed to help Sigfoss, Haldor’s family had recently gained significant influence. Having just collected the war contributions, Kolsvin felt he could not push Haldor too hard, especially since more than twenty chieftains were now speaking in Haldor’s favor.

This surprised Kolsvin and shocked Sigfoss.

Seeing Haldor and Hoskuld, Kadir speaking calmly and confidently, Sigfoss’s heart sank. He knew they had come prepared.

When he saw chieftains from all over Iceland speaking up for Haldor, smoothing things over, and even those who had promised to join him in attacking Haldor now speaking vaguely, Sigfoss was furious.

The native Icelanders did not understand the benefits of public opinion. Though Sigfoss was clever, he had not realized how much honor and goodwill the Hrut family’s saga would bring Haldor, allowing him to rally so many chieftains to his side.

“I never thought Haldor’s family saga would be so useful.”

Sigfoss did not know that Haldor had gained the support of more than twenty chieftains not just because of his family saga, but also because, before the Hrut family’s rise, Haldor had already begun visiting and building relationships with some of them.

Chapter 19: Crisis Averted?

Haldor’s proactive measures, combined with the assistance of the saga, had elevated his standing among the people. This led to a scene in the assembly hall where many chiefs sided with Haldor, as the compensation he had paid eight years ago was already substantial. Moreover, if Sigfoss were allowed to destroy Haldor’s family today, who would be next tomorrow? Regardless of their motives, everyone agreed that Haldor must be protected.

The Icelanders might not have understood the concept of “lips and teeth depending on each other,” but they had a proverb that conveyed the same warning: “The nose is right in front of the eyes.” In other words, if the nose is not protected, the eyes will suffer as well.

The assembly hall was filled with chaotic debates throughout the afternoon, continuing until dusk without any resolution. Sigfoss spoke loudly and melodiously, as if reciting an ancient poem. Haldor and his supporters clung to the fact that compensation had already been paid, though the situation was unfavorable for Sigfoss, he still tried to refute Haldor and sway Kolsvin and the other chiefs.

Thanks to Olaf’s prior warning, Haldor firmly maintained that he had already paid most of his family’s wealth eight years ago and that there was no obligation for brothers to share punishment. The other chiefs also voiced their opinions, but the discussion remained inconclusive.

The three elders listened with furrowed brows. Kolsvin, true to his noble upbringing, quickly realized that Sigfoss had little hope of reopening the case. As darkness fell, he coldly humphed, stood up, and slammed the table, declaring, “Enough arguing! The case of Haig from eight years ago has already been settled. Haldor need not face further punishment. However, the criminal Haig remains wanted. If he is spotted anywhere in Iceland, report it immediately. Upon capture, he is to be hanged and displayed publicly.”

With the governor’s final decision, Sigfoss’s plans were dashed. The chiefs bid farewell to the governor and left the assembly hall in groups, then dispersed to eat and drink. Haldor, relieved of a great burden, invited a few of his closest chief friends to a tavern for drinks and meat, returning to Hoskuld’s home only at midnight.

Olaf, on the other hand, returned directly to the church school. Since the matter concerning the family’s rise and fall had been resolved, he had no interest in attending the court assembly the next day, even though it was scheduled to continue.

Before parting with his father, Olaf reminded him that the day to collect the goods had arrived, urging Haldor to visit Elder Hongrode the next day to retrieve the musket bullets.

That evening, Sigfoss, reeking of alcohol, returned home. His wife helped him remove his coat and asked, “Has Haldor’s family admitted their guilt?”

Sigfoss roared, cursing, “That bastard! May God punish him! Haldor’s luck is incredible; the other chiefs all spoke in his favor.”

“What about the governor? Didn’t our son-in-law agree to deal with Haldor?” The woman’s face was caked with white lead powder, hiding her wrinkles and freckles. Her voice sharpened as she asked, “I had already planned to spend this winter in Hrut Village. Why didn’t the governor act?”

“Sigh…”

Sigfoss let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. He bitterly smiled and said, “Kolsvin is a politician who values his reputation. He just collected war tribute; how could he offend the local chiefs? This matter is impossible.”

“So, we just let Haig, who killed my son, live comfortably in Iceland?” The woman coldly humphed. “I’ll ask my brother to kill Haldor’s son. His pirate ship has plenty of skilled killers.”

Sigfoss nodded, his eyes flickering. “What good would killing his son do? We want his fortune. Haldor will be in Big Port for the next two days. The day after tomorrow, he’ll probably return to Hrut Village. We need to kill Haldor on his way back. Choose the right moment, kill him, and dispose of the body at sea. Alright, I’ll go see Ozul tomorrow and discuss the details personally.”

“This time, Haldor must die.”

The next day, at the court assembly, Haldor and his group noticed Sigfoss’s absence. They assumed he was too embarrassed to show his face after the setback, unaware that a life-threatening crisis was already looming over Haldor.

In a crude harbor within the Bjarg Strait in northwest Iceland, several cog ships were docked. On the shore stood some dilapidated houses, and in the largest one, Sigfoss sat with a one-eyed, black-bearded man.

“We’re wanted pirates in England, Scotland, Ireland, Denmark, and Norway. Going to Big Port to kill someone would be too dangerous,” the one-eyed man said, his face deeply wrinkled and his skin smooth and yellow. He tapped the table with his fingers, pondering whether he could fulfill his brother-in-law Sigfoss’s request.

Sigfoss cleared his throat and said, “Big Port is out of the question. We need to ambush Haldor on his way back to Hrut Village, kill him, and take the body away without leaving any traces. So, you need to send your most capable man. Don’t worry; we’ve worked together for years. Kill Haldor, and you’ll get ten percent of his fortune.”

Sigfoss spoke calmly, but inwardly, he gritted his teeth. The man before him was his wife’s brother, Ozul. Since his youth, Ozul had been a pirate, later becoming notorious and wanted in various Nordic countries. However, Sigfoss had taken him in, allowing him to smuggle polar bear and Arctic fox furs to Danish officials, as the taxes on legal fur trade were too high.

Of course, Ozul also did some killing and arson for Sigfoss, though not frequently. This time, targeting a village chief was a first.

Ozul had to consider the consequences of this job. If his tracks were exposed, he wouldn’t be able to stay in Iceland anymore. “Now, Iceland is the only place I can stay. If I kill an Icelander, I might have to hide in Greenland. Isn’t it better to quietly smuggle some bear, fox, and wolf furs?”

“Haldor’s fortune is worth about ten thousand marks. Think about it.”

Sigfoss’s casual remark made Ozul immediately agree, laughing, “It’s just killing a man. Let’s do it.”

Ozul had six or seven men under him, all seasoned killers, but Ozul himself was the most skilled. He thought for a moment, then grinned, “I’ll go myself. I’ve seen Haldor before.”

Sigfoss nodded, lowering his voice to instruct, “You need to disguise yourself. Although no Icelander knows you’re the one-eyed black-bearded pirate terrorizing the Danish and Scottish seas, you still need to be careful.”

“I know.” Ozul removed his black eye patch, blinking his bright eyes. “I’ll set out tomorrow and make sure Haldor disappears completely.”

Sigfoss felt slightly reassured, stood up, put on his hat, and turned to say, “I’ll go first. Remember, the execution must be clean and swift.”

“Don’t worry, Sigfoss.” Ozul walked his brother-in-law out, then went to the shore and whistled. Soon, several fierce-looking men appeared from nowhere.

“I have some business to attend to on the island. You all keep an eye on the place.”

“Yes, boss.”

Chapter 20: Assassination

The Althing assembly for all of Iceland had finally concluded.

Starting on Tuesday and ending on Saturday, by Sunday morning, everyone had bid farewell to Hoskuld and gone their separate ways.

Haldor, accompanied by Olaf, Kadir, and Heiner, traveled together on horseback. Each of the four men rode horses of varying sizes, with Haldor’s horse pulling a small two-wheeled cart behind it. The cart was covered with dry grass, concealing ten flintlock rifles and five boxes of ammunition.

Apart from Olaf, who looked harmless, the three adults wore swords at their waists. As they traveled along the sparsely populated dirt roads of Iceland, their armed presence drew the startled gazes of passersby and villagers living along the road. Upon realizing that they did not match the descriptions of any wanted criminals from the governor’s office, the onlookers relaxed.

Leaving the southern district of Great Port, which governed more than ten villages, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. Kadir pulled on the reins, took off his hat, and nodded, saying, “We should head east now. Haldor, you’ve overcome your difficulties. Why not come to the Selfoss district this winter? My Gray Mountain Village welcomes you and your sister to visit.”

“I’ll tell your sister as soon as I get back. Karina might miss you too. Who knows, we might come anytime,” Haldor replied, taking off his hat and returning the gesture with a laugh.

“May God bless you, good luck, and farewell.”

The two adults shook hands and bid farewell, with Heiner also waving to Olaf. Then, Kadir and Heiner rode east, while Haldor and Olaf headed west.

Due to the light rain the previous night, the morning was foggy, so Haldor and Olaf did not ride quickly. However, Olaf’s horseback riding skills had improved significantly on this return journey, and he could now easily control the old nag beneath him.

The finest purebred horses in Iceland were kept in the stables of the governor, elders, and regional chiefs. Haldor only had two decent colts, which still carried some draft horse bloodline. Even these horses were quite valuable.

Most families owned small, sturdy horses, a mix of various breeds and draft horses, suitable for farm work and more affordable. Their withers did not even reach Olaf’s nose, and Olaf estimated their height to be around one meter thirty or forty. The horse he was riding now was one of the smaller nags.

After traveling east for a while, they saw a birch forest ahead. Haldor pointed at the forest and said with a smile, “This is the northwestern forest of Will Village. Originally, it was where our ancestors gathered materials to build houses, but later it was given to his groom, Will.”

Olaf knew that White Hazel Forest Hrut Village and the three surrounding villages formed one district, with his father as the leader of this district. However, the leader’s authority was now too restricted to manage the affairs of Will Village. The head of Will Village was the father of Big-Head Olin.

Looking at the vast birch forest, Olaf estimated it to be at least a hundred acres. He shook his head and said, “This forest must be worth several hundred marks.”

“Yes,” Haldor laughed. “Study hard, and in a few years, come out to sea with me to see the world. In the future, our Hrut Village will be passed down to you. Let’s see if you can inherit the glory of Hrut.”

Olaf and his father chatted and laughed as they entered the forest. Haldor pointed to a birch tree not far away, with a brown, hairy tree knot, and said, “This is a birch polypore. It’s not very useful, but when you’re constipated, you can scrape some off and drink it with water to relieve constipation. You drank it a few times when you were little.”

Olaf recalled his past life when he traveled to Xinjiang, where birch polypore was sold for thousands of yuan per jin, claimed to be used for tea to fight cancer and cure diseases. Although he didn’t believe it, he still calculated in his mind: if he had the chance, he could bring the Nordic birch polypore to the Celestial Empire and sell it for a good price.

Suddenly, a “hey” sound came from not far away, and Haldor and Olaf both turned their heads to look.

They saw a short axe flying out from behind a twisted birch tree about twenty steps away, whistling through the air towards Haldor’s face.

Haldor had experienced many life-and-death battles during his sea raids. In this moment of crisis, he had no time to draw his weapon to defend himself, so he quickly leaned to the left.

“Snap”

Although Haldor dodged quickly, the flying axe was fierce, and the axe handle still hit Haldor’s right shoulder blade, causing him to cry out in pain and fall from his horse.

From behind the twisted birch tree, a burly man with a round face and black beard emerged, holding a large axe and running quickly towards them.

Olaf had rarely fought in his past life, and in this life, he had not seen any fighting in the past ten years. Although he knew this was a chaotic world and that people died every day from war and disease, he thought he had mentally prepared himself for killing and being killed. But when he saw the bandit attacking his father and charging towards them with a murderous look, Olaf’s body suddenly felt numb, unable to move, trembling all over, his heart pounding like a drum.

Ozul had been waiting in the birch forest since early morning. When he saw Haldor riding in with a blond boy, he threw the flying axe to kill Haldor.

But Haldor reacted quickly and was only knocked off his horse. Ozul shouted and charged out, swinging his ten-pound axe towards Haldor, who had just gotten up and drawn his sword.

As Haldor rolled off his horse, he quickly got up, drawing his sword while looking at Olaf. He saw that the black-bearded man who had ambushed him had not gone to kill Olaf but was instead swinging his axe at him. Haldor felt a sense of relief and raised his sword while spreading his legs.

“Clang”

The axe and sword clashed, producing a harsh sound and sparks. Haldor’s hands weakened, and he fell to the ground again. He was surprised to find that this somewhat familiar man might be stronger than him, and his right shoulder was in severe pain, making his right arm weak. It was clear that he could not defeat this man.

Ozul was delighted to see Haldor knocked down by his axe. He stepped forward, pressing his foot on Haldor’s abdomen, ready to swing his axe down.

Haldor caught a glimpse of his son Olaf standing behind Ozul with a tree branch. He quickly rolled over and shouted, swinging his sword and hitting Ozul’s left instep.

Haldor’s shout covered all other sounds. Ozul endured the pain in his foot and swung his axe down, aiming to cut off Haldor’s head. But from the corner of his right eye, he saw a black shadow flash, and then his right ear was in severe pain. His mind went blank, and he fell to the ground.

Haldor exerted all his strength to raise his sword, which had been almost severed by the axe, and stabbed it into Ozul’s chest.

“Swish”

“Clink”

Before Ozul could react, Haldar had already stabbed him through the heart. The sword, which had been notched by the axe, broke as it struck Ozul’s chest bone. Half of the broken sword was stuck in Ozul’s body, while the other half was still in Haldar’s hand.

Haldar sat down, panting heavily, and looked at Olaf, who stood nearby with a pale face. He laughed heartily, “Well done, son of Hrut! You are brave. Thanks to my Olaf, otherwise, your father would have been killed.”

Olaf swallowed and threw down the tree branch that had pierced Ozul’s ear, its side covered in blood. He also sat down on the damp, cold ground.

It turned out that the terrified Olaf, upon hearing the first sound of the axe clashing with the sword, had suddenly come to his senses and jumped off his horse. His mind was blank, but his body instinctively picked up a slippery birch branch covered in moss. He gripped the branch, which was as thick as his wrist, and approached the attacker. Then, with all his might, he stabbed the attacker in the side of the face, causing him to fall. Haldar then killed the attacker.

For Olaf, he had only fought desperately to save his and his father’s lives. However, without the experienced Haldar’s cooperation, or if Olaf had been weaker, they might have been killed by Ozul in the birch forest.

After resting for a while, the smell of blood in the air grew stronger. Looking at the blood flowing on the ground before him, Haldar spat out a mouthful of phlegm, then leaned close to Ozul’s face to examine it carefully. He shook his head and muttered, “This man looks familiar, but I can’t remember his name. It seems like he’s from one of the districts in Great Port. I don’t have any grudge against him. Why would he want to kill me? Could it be a robbery?”

As he spoke, Haldar searched the corpse and found only a bag of silver and copper coins worth about three or four marks. There was nothing else.

Olaf took a deep breath to calm himself, stood up, and asked, “Do you know this person who attacked us?”

“He looks somewhat familiar, but I can’t recall. It seems like I saw him a long time ago, but we never spoke,” Haldar said, shaking his head and clapping his hands. “It must be a robbery.”

Olaf shook his head. After all, he had watched palace intrigue and murder mysteries, and he felt that the matter was not so simple.

“He could be an assassin sent by Sigfoss to kill us. After all, Sigfoss was humiliated at the assembly. Not only did his plan fail, but he also lost face. He might have hired someone to kill us.”

Haldar rubbed his hands and frowned without speaking.

Olaf continued, “The people who take this road are only from Hrut Village, Will Village, and Grindavik Village. Apart from you, who else from the three villages would go out or come back this morning? This person was waiting here, and I think he was targeting us.”

“It’s possible.”

Haldar nodded and, with a serious expression, pulled Olaf aside and instructed, “You ride quickly to Will Village and call for help. No matter who wanted to kill me, we need to notify the people of Will Village now. According to Icelandic law, after a homicide, we must voluntarily explain everything to the first person we see. Then, they can testify that I killed the attacker in self-defense. Finally, we will take the attacker’s body to the governor’s office for identification. If it was indeed Sigfoss who hired someone to kill me, we cannot let him off. Even if it was a robbery, we can make the attacker’s family compensate us with some money.”

Olaf quickly mounted his horse and rode out of the forest towards Will Village in the west.

Chapter 21: Turning the Tables

Before long, Olaf returned to the birch forest with Arnolin, the village chief and tax collector of Will Village, along with seven or eight men.

Arnolin first greeted Haldor, then ordered his men to carry the dead Ozul onto a cart. He then politely said to Haldor, “Haldor, since this murder case happened in Will Village, I must ask you to come with me to the Governor’s Mansion. It’s just a bandit who tried to rob you. If we explain the situation clearly, neither of us will be held responsible. You might even receive some compensation.”

Haldor nodded, first unloading the wooden frame from his horse and securing it onto Olaf’s nag. He then instructed Olaf to go home first while he followed Arnolin’s group to Big Port.

Olaf knew that with Arnolin and the others as witnesses, according to Icelandic law, his father and the others would be fine once they explained the situation to the governor. So he slowly led his horse home.

Upon returning, Olaf first carried the firearms and ammunition into the house before seeing his mother return.

Katrin, seeing Olaf had come back alone, asked about Haldor. Olaf explained the situation, and Katrin frowned, asking, “Your father didn’t recognize who that man was?”

“No,” Olaf shook his head.

Katrin wiped her hands with a coarse cloth, glancing at the sky. It was already noon, the sun high, the mist dispersed.

“If he didn’t recognize him, then it’s not a vendetta. There won’t be much investigation. He might be back tonight.” Katrin smiled, then turned to prepare lunch.

Olaf went to his room to chat with his younger siblings before they all ate a meal of fried fish together.

By nightfall, Haldor still hadn’t returned. Olaf’s heart grew uneasy. He had always been worried that the assassination attempt wasn’t as simple as a robbery. But the fact was that Haldor had fought back and killed the attacker, so this matter had to be reported to the governor.

With his father gone, if someone with ill intentions caused more trouble, there could be further crises.

The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. Olaf went to his mother, Katrin, to voice his concerns. Katrin was just about to put the children to bed when she heard Olaf’s words. She stepped outside, her expression shifting between stormy and calm.

“That attacker might have been sent by Sigfoss. If he and the governor join forces, your father could really be in trouble. Come on, let’s go find Jot.”

With that, Katrin pulled Olaf to Jot’s house, calling out loudly until Jot came out.

“Jot, this morning—”

Katrin explained the situation. Jot’s face changed, and he turned to rush to the stable to fetch his horse, his voice urgent. “Katrin, you stay here with the children. I’ll take Olaf to Big Port.”

Katrin and Tom saw Jot and Olaf off as they rode away on two horses. Suddenly, Katrin reminded them, “If there’s trouble, don’t forget to find Hoskuld.”

“Don’t worry,” Jot’s powerful voice gradually faded into the distance.

Olaf and Jot didn’t dare slow their pace as they rode through the night, arriving in Big Port before midnight.

The docks and the central area of Big Port were guarded by soldiers at night. Jot led Olaf, holding their horses, to ask the guards about Haldor’s situation, but the guards paid them no mind.

Hoskuld suddenly appeared, pulling the two aside. After turning into an alley, he stopped, his expression grim. In the moonlight, his eyes flickered, his voice low. “Why are you only coming now? I was just about to go to Hrut Village when I happened to see you.”

“What happened to my father?” Olaf’s heart sank as he asked urgently.

Hoskuld sighed. “I only found out this afternoon. Haldor came to the Governor’s Mansion with a group of people and a corpse this afternoon, saying someone had ambushed him that morning and that he had killed the man in self-defense. The governor questioned everyone and was about to let your father go home after identifying the body.”

“But at dusk, things suddenly changed. The governor sent soldiers to arrest Haldor, saying he had fought and killed a man named Ozul, then lied and framed others. Tomorrow, he plans to convene three elders and several district leaders to sentence your father.”

“What’s going on?” Jot panicked.

Olaf gritted his teeth. “It must be Sigfoss. I suspect the man who ambushed my father was sent by him. The governor’s change in attitude is also his doing.”

Jot paced in a circle, then stamped his foot, his voice sharp. “Forget it. If they sentence him tomorrow, Haldor will be exiled to the glacier to die. I’ll go find Hrutik now. Hoskuld, you go find Kadir. Tomorrow, we’ll rescue Haldor and flee Iceland.”

“Good,” Hoskuld agreed first, then furrowed his brow and whispered, “But tomorrow, rescuing Haldor means facing the governor’s hundred guards. Those guards are all elite soldiers of the Danes, skilled in battle, and twenty of them are musketeers. At most, we can handle twenty men. How can we rescue Haldor?”

Jot thought of the governor’s hundred elite guards, and his mind instantly cooled. He urgently said, “What can we do? If they really sentence him tomorrow, we won’t be able to save him.”

Olaf scratched his head, stepped forward, and said, “Don’t panic. I’ll go find Elder Amie. If he speaks up for my father tomorrow, there might be hope.”

Hoskuld pressed, “What if there’s no hope? Once the guards take Haldor to the glacier, he’ll freeze to death in less than a day.”

A ruthless glint flashed in Olaf’s eyes as he rasped, “If there’s no hope, we can’t act in Big Port tomorrow. We’ll wait until the guards are escorting my father and ambush them on the road, rescue him, and then flee Iceland.”

“Good,” Jot and Hoskuld both nodded.

“Olaf, you’re right. Let’s do that.”

After an agonizing discussion, the three went to seek Elder Amie. After pleading with him, he agreed to speak for Haldor, but if the governor was determined, the outcome might not change.

Olaf and the others thanked him before going to Hoskuld’s house to rest. The next morning, Hoskuld sent Kalm and Kalhu to gather information.

Kalhu, who worked odd jobs at the Governor’s Mansion, returned in less than an hour.

“I heard from my teacher, Tax Collector Hari, that yesterday evening, Sigfoss and his wife went crying to the governor, saying the dead man was Ozul, Sigfoss’s wife’s brother. He had been living in the Ankrey district in northern Iceland. Yesterday, when he heard the governor couldn’t overturn the case of his nephew’s murder, he went to confront Haldor. During the argument, Haldor killed him.”

“Now the governor believes Sigfoss and his wife’s story completely. He has ordered a trial to be held this afternoon and plans to exile Haldor to Vatnajökull Glacier.”

The news Kalhu brought back made everything clear to Olaf and the others.

“Ozul was sent by Sigfoss to ambush Haldor,” Hoskuld, though not tall, spoke loudly, coldly snorting. “We need to prepare early.”

Jot nodded. “Time is of the essence. I can’t wait for the trial results. I’ll go find people now and be back by tomorrow afternoon. You stay here and keep watch. We’ll prepare to intercept Haldor.”

Olaf pulled Jot aside and whispered, “I have ten muskets at home. Take them with you. They should come in handy.”

Jot had already heard from Haldor that they had bought ten muskets from Hongrode, so he wasn’t surprised. He agreed and hurriedly went to fetch his horse and left.

Chapter 22: Poison

By afternoon, Olaf and the others had gathered outside the governor’s mansion, waiting anxiously. However, Haldor’s trial was being conducted indoors, and they had no way of knowing what was happening inside.

After waiting nervously for over an hour, it was nearly sunset when the three elders and several chiefs finally emerged.

Olaf quickly stepped forward to intercept Elder Amie, asking urgently, “Teacher, how is my father?”

Elder Amie’s expression was grave. He shook his head slightly, then waved his hand, saying, “The governor is very resolute. He has already sentenced your father to exile for manslaughter in a fight. Tomorrow morning, he will be banished to the Vatnajökull Glacier. There’s nothing I can do to save him.”

With that, Elder Amie sighed and left.

Hoskuld had also learned of the situation from a familiar chief. He pulled Olaf along and headed home.

Olaf’s face was dark, his teeth grinding audibly.

Back at home, Hoskuld pulled Olaf down to sit, then instructed his two sons to fetch the family’s bows, spears, swords, and axes to clean and sharpen.

Amid the sound of grinding blades, Olaf slowly stood up, his eyes firm as he said, “Uncle, we can only rescue my father on the way tomorrow. After that, we truly won’t have a place in Iceland anymore.”

The Icelanders valued family deeply, and the bond of kinship was strong. Haldor and the others had long been prepared. Though the situation had taken many twists and turns, it had ultimately led to the worst possible outcome.

Hoskuld could not bear to let Haldor be harmed, so he coldly replied, “Don’t worry. Your father has already made arrangements. Your Uncle Kadir, Hrutik, Jot, and I are all prepared. It’s just a matter of killing a few guards and escaping Iceland. I’ve been wanting to go to Vinland anyway.”

Olaf felt a weight lift from his heart. He knew that Haig’s life in North America and his management of Vinland was their escape route. This was the foundation that made everyone unafraid of rebellion.

“Child, go to the governor’s mansion immediately and keep watch. See how many guards Kolsvin plans to send to escort Haldor to the Vatnajökull Glacier.”

Hoskuld walked into the courtyard, took the iron sword from Kalhu’s hands, and continued sharpening the blade as he gave his instructions.

Kalhu agreed and quickly left.

It was nearly dusk when Kalhu finally returned in a hurry.

“Father, Olaf, I found out that the governor is sending four guards to escort Uncle Haldor to the glacier.”

Hoskuld’s expression relaxed slightly as he muttered, “Four men. Jot, Hrutik, Kadir, and I might be able to handle them. But we need to ambush them near the glacier first. I don’t know how long it will take for Hrutik and the others to get there.”

Olaf questioned Kalhu further about the details of the four guards. He learned that they were ordinary guards but would be armed with spears and crossbows, wearing leather armor. They would also bind Haldor’s hands and feet, leaving only a step’s distance between them, making it impossible for him to escape.

Hoskuld sent Olaf to rest while he pulled his two sons and wife aside to plan their escape in case the rescue succeeded, as well as how his wife and sons could avoid blame if it failed.

Kalmu and Kalhu were young and full of vigor. They admired the stories of the Hrut family and their daring spirit of fighting and killing. Both expressed their willingness to follow their father to rescue Uncle Haldor and then escape.

The next morning, everyone got up early. Kalhu continued to go to the governor’s mansion to gather information.

Olaf and Kalmu went to wait outside the governor’s mansion. When the sun was high in the sky, they saw four guards in leather armor, carrying spears and bundles, leading a tall man out of the side gate of the governor’s mansion.

Seeing his father bound with ropes, his hands and feet tied, leaving only a step’s distance, his hair disheveled, and his head hanging low like a lost dog, Olaf’s eyes reddened, and he clenched his fists.

Hoskuld intercepted the four guards on the street, offering them some dried meat, water, and silver coins. He smiled and asked the guards to take care of his brother-in-law, Haldor, while giving Haldor a few meaningful glances.

Haldor, who had been prepared, understood immediately. Under Hoskuld’s care, he ate some dried meat and drank some water to quickly restore his strength.

The journey from Reykjavik to the Vatnajökull Glacier was a five-day walk. This was a severe punishment for murderers in Iceland. Being exiled to a glacier with temperatures below minus ten degrees Celsius, devoid of people and animals, was equivalent to being left to fend for oneself and die a slow, torturous death.

After Haldor was taken away by the guards, Olaf and the others waited anxiously at Hoskuld’s house.

It wasn’t until nightfall that Jot arrived with Kadir, Heiner, and Hrutik. They were riding horses pulling a cart loaded with ten flintlock guns, ammunition, swords, and axes.

Hoskuld informed the four of them that Haldor had already been sent to the Vatnajökull Glacier. Hrutik spat on the ground, his eyes flashing with a fierce light, and the scar on his cheek twitched slightly.

“I, Jot, Kadir, Hoskuld, and Heiner—we five will set out immediately. We’ll kill the guards on the grassland before the glacier, rescue Haldor, and then Olaf and Hoskuld’s wife will follow the original plan, taking the family and belongings to the beach south of Hrut Village. I’ve already had little Hilt set sail downstream. Tomorrow, the Thor’s Hammer will dock at the beach. Then we’ll board the ship and go to Vinland, and everything will be safe.”

“This is my eldest son, Kalmu. He’s twenty years old and will be a help,” Hoskuld said, pulling Kalmu forward. “Those four guards have all participated in the Battle of Kalmar. They’re elite soldiers. Bringing one more person will increase our chances.”

Hrutik was the most professional when it came to fighting and killing, so as soon as he arrived, he became the leader.

Looking at Kalmu’s sturdy build, Hrutik nodded and said, “Alright, let’s set out immediately.”

Everyone agreed. Hoskuld took his wife’s hand and instructed her to take care of Kalhu and Olaf, to pack up their belongings, and go to Hrut Village to wait.

Hoskuld’s wife didn’t really want to rebel and escape, but she knew she couldn’t stop it. She also knew it was a matter of life and death for the whole family, so she agreed.

Just as everyone was about to take their weapons, bows, arrows, and flintlock guns, and prepare to leave on horseback, Olaf suddenly grabbed Hrutik and said in a low voice, “I want to go with you.”

“Nonsense,” Hrutik scowled. “You’re just a kid. Are you going to get yourself killed? Go home and wait.”

Olaf didn’t have the patience to argue with Hrutik. He quickly explained his idea.

“Uncles, listen to me. Even though you’re brave, it won’t be easy to deal with four guards. If there are any casualties, my father and I won’t be able to accept it. So I want to go with you.”

“What can you do? Going home and waiting is the best way to help us.”

Olaf didn’t say anything, but Hrutik rudely interrupted him.

Hoskuld and Heiner, however, believed that Olaf must have a good idea. If they could easily take down the four guards, they would be more than willing. So they tried to persuade Hrutik.

“Listening to Olaf’s idea isn’t a bad thing. If it’s useful, great. If not, it won’t hurt to spend a little time.”

“I think Olaf wants to come with us for a reason. It’s not just to cause trouble.”

Hrutik let out a long sigh and asked, “What’s your idea? Tell us.”

Olaf quickly explained his plan.

Olaf thought that among Hrutik’s five men, only Hrutik and Kadir were truly capable. The rest were just ordinary people, a ragtag group. If they couldn’t defeat the four guards, it would be a joke.

Even if they could, it might cost one or two of them their lives or leave them severely injured. Olaf didn’t want to take such a risk. So he thought he could have Hoskuld catch up with them, meet Haldor as his son, and give the four guards some meat and strong alcohol, poisoning the food. After they ate and drank, they could strike, ensuring success.

When Olaf explained his idea, the others, who only knew how to fight and kill, were stunned. After thinking about it, they found it interesting.

“Olaf, your idea is good, but we don’t have any poison,” Hrutik said, coughing lightly and shaking his head.

Olaf confidently sneered, “I do.”

“What? You have poison?”

Olaf looked at their surprised expressions, picked up the candlestick from the table, went into the courtyard, and pulled out a few potato plants that had just finished flowering. Pointing to the small, green, tuber-like objects covered in soil at the roots, he said, “This is the poison I’ll use against the guards.”

Chapter 23: Waiting for the Rabbit

Potatoes were familiar to anyone from later generations, as they had been a staple since childhood. They could be fried, stir-fried, boiled, or deep-fried, and snacks like potato chips and fries were irresistible treats for children.

However, everyone also knew that sprouted or green potatoes were poisonous. Eating them could cause vomiting and diarrhea at best, and at worst, dehydration, convulsions, respiratory distress, or even death.

It was the early seventeenth century, and over fifty years ago, the Spanish had brought potatoes from South America to Europe. Yet, they were still treated as ornamental plants. At most, the English and Irish ate potato leaves, though even in the land of dark cuisine, few could stomach their unique flavor.

In Iceland, many households grew potatoes, including Hoskuld’s, where over a dozen plants were cultivated as ornamentals, with leaves occasionally plucked and boiled for consumption.

Resource-scarce Iceland had no access to poisons, so Olaf had to rely on sprouted, green potatoes to poison the four guards, using the solanine within them.

When Olaf pulled out two potato plants and claimed their tubers were poisonous, Hrutik, Hoskuld, Kalm, and Heiner all frowned, dismissing it as another of Olaf’s wild ideas.

Olaf knew they didn’t believe him. Seeing their impatience, he played up the mystery again: “This is what Uncle Haig wrote to my father. Potatoes are cursed food from the Incas of America. Their tubers carry the devil’s curse when unripe or sprouted. Eating them causes vomiting, dizziness, and even death if consumed in large quantities.”

Mentioning Haig made them half-believe him.

Hoskuld, who knew Olaf’s strange insights best, nodded. “Alright, we’ll listen to you. What else do you need?”

Olaf instructed them to wash the unripe green potatoes, chop them finely, and cook them with meat, salt, and black pepper, then serve them to the guards, who wouldn’t refuse such a dish.

Hoskuld gritted his teeth and had his wife fetch their precious black pepper, cooking a pot of potato mash as Olaf directed.

When it was done, the fragrant aroma made everyone’s mouths water.

“Is this really food?” Heiner asked in disbelief.

“It seems so,” Hoskuld nodded. “We should plant more and ask Haig how to eat them safely.”

They packed the potato mash into a clay pot, poured wine into a jug, and mixed in the juice from the crushed green potatoes. Only then did Olaf clap his hands in satisfaction. “Let’s go. Uncle, take me to deliver the food and drink. Once the guards eat it and the poison takes effect, we’ll make our move.”

This time, Hoskuld didn’t consult Hrutik. He led a horse out of the stable for Olaf.

The six men, warned by Hrutik, feared that seven riders leaving Big Port in the dead of night with bundles would alert their prey. So, they split into small groups, slowly making their way to the old Althing site at Thingvellir, beneath the Law Rock.

Olaf, Hoskuld, and Kalm were the last to leave. They traveled north for half a day before turning east, passing three or four villages along the way.

By dawn, they reached a vast valley. To the north stood towering, jagged mountains, barren and gray, resembling the Lonely Mountain from The Hobbit. To the south lay a massive lake, its surface shimmering with mist and ripples, devoid of any settlements.

“This is where our ancestors held the Althing hundreds of years ago,” Hoskuld said, pointing to a massive rock standing amid broken wood debris. “Back then, our ancestors settled Iceland and built a free homeland. We formed court assemblies by family, elected Godis, and governed ourselves. How grand it was! But then Norway forced us into submission, making us subjects of their king, burdening us with taxes. If only we could be independent again.”

Olaf knew Hoskuld spoke for most Icelanders. Their desire for independence from Norway and Denmark would eventually lead to sovereignty in 1918, lasting into the 21st century.

Icelanders, fiercely independent and brave, had long been exploited under Danish-Norwegian rule, fueling growing resistance.

After a night’s journey, Hoskuld saw Olaf’s fatigue and, with Kadir still absent, said, “Olaf, Kalm, rest a while. I’ll wake you when everyone arrives.”

Olaf couldn’t sleep, haunted by thoughts of his father. He waved it off. “I’m not tired.”

After some conversation and a quick meal, they spotted riders approaching from the west—Hrutik and Jot.

Soon, Kadir and Heiner arrived. The seven men ate, then mounted their horses, riding east.

Though Olaf’s group had left a day after the four guards escorting Haldor, their nighttime travel had closed much of the distance.

The guards rode horses, but Haldor walked. By Olaf’s calculations, they were nearly within reach.

Half a day’s ride ahead lay the Geysir hot springs, where a village stood. Hrutik deduced the guards would stay there tonight, so the seven men took a detour, arriving early at the Haukadalur geothermal area. With over a dozen geysers, the ground was perpetually steaming, much warmer than elsewhere. However, the lack of arable land made it unsuitable for anything but grazing, so few lived there.

Olaf marveled at the strange geysers—some barely waist-high, others erupting dozens of meters into the air. The natural spectacle left him in awe, though under different circumstances, he would have loved to stay and watch them for days.

The others seemed indifferent, having seen such sights before. They skirted the village, reaching the bend of the Hvítá River by afternoon. The river was one of Iceland’s largest, and Haldor’s Thor’s Hammer cog ship had once docked in a lower bend.

On either bank stood small villages—seven or eight households on the west, four or five on the east.

According to Hrutik, these were fishing families who sometimes ferried travelers for copper coins.

Two thousand paces south of the west-bank village, on the east bank, lay a pine forest. Hrutik scouted the area, then led the others in clearing a space to rest, waiting for the guards to arrive the next day before ambushing them.

Despite centuries of development, Iceland’s population had barely grown due to its harsh geography and poor agriculture. Elder Amie had once mentioned in church school that the governor’s office estimated Iceland’s population at no more than fifty thousand.

The interior’s high elevation made it uninhabitable, so ninety percent of the population lived along the coast.

Beyond Haukadalur, Olaf saw no signs of human life until they reached the Hvítá River.

To avoid trouble, they bypassed the west-bank households, hiding in the pine forest.

Olaf lay on a blanket, watching curious squirrels peer down from the trees, a small smile on his face.

Hrutik and the others gathered firewood, boiling a pot of smoked venison porridge.

The seven men took turns eating with wooden spoons before Hrutik extinguished the fire. He and Kadir, Heiner, and Jot divided the night watch, while the others wrapped themselves in blankets and slept.

Chapter 24: A Kind Father and a Filial Son

Olaf woke in the morning to the sound of birds chirping. As he opened his eyes, he saw flocks of birds perched in the treetops, their calls filling the air, while a few hawks circled overhead.

After a night spent outdoors, Olaf felt refreshed. He threw off his blanket and stood up, only to see Hrutik, Hoskuld, Kadir, Heiner, and Kalm sitting around a pile of pine branches, starting a fire.

Hoskuld was cutting slices of dark bread, preparing to toast them over the flames.

Olaf folded his blanket and noticed Jot approaching with a large bundle of pine branches.

“Olaf’s awake. Let’s eat soon.”

Olaf took two sticks and headed deeper into the forest to relieve himself. By the time he returned, a pot of meat porridge had been prepared.

After breakfast, they reheated the mashed potatoes over the fire. Then, Hoskuld led Olaf on horseback out of the southern end of the pine forest, galloping westward along a dirt road.

Hrutik, meanwhile, readied Kadir and Jot, ensuring they had their weapons. He instructed Heiner and Kalm to follow Hoskuld at a distance, ready to report back if anything unexpected happened.

Olaf and Hoskuld rode for half a day until the pine forest was no longer visible behind them, and the towering Hekla volcano to the south had faded into a blur. Only then did they rein in their horses.

“We’ll wait here. Haldor and the others should arrive by midday,” Hoskuld estimated, speaking softly.

Olaf dismounted, clutching a clay pot wrapped in animal hide, and waited. After about an hour, four mounted guards appeared in the west, slowly making their way east.

“Let’s go meet them.”

The two led their horses westward, their footsteps crunching on the mossy grass. Soon, they could make out the four guards on horseback, followed by Haldor, whose hands and lower legs were bound, forcing him to take small, shuffling steps.

“Who goes there?”

“Halt!”

The four guards, startled by Olaf and Hoskuld’s approach, tightened their grip on their spears and shouted.

“Good sirs, I am Hoskuld, a law-abiding citizen of Big Port’s northern district. You don’t recognize me? This boy is Haldor’s son. We know Haldor has been sentenced to exile, and his family asked me to bring the boy to see his father one last time.”

Hoskuld kept Olaf at a distance as he spoke, slowly edging closer.

The lead guard, with pale yellow skin and a thick beard, looked like he might be of Eastern European descent. He waved his spear, recalling that Hoskuld had come to bid Haldor farewell a few days earlier. “Why are you waiting for Haldor ahead of us?”

Hoskuld sighed, spreading his hands. “Ah, we didn’t know where you were. In our haste, we overshot. We figured you might not have crossed the Hvítá River yet, so we turned back to try our luck.”

“And here you are,” Hoskuld said, taking the clay pot from Olaf and setting down a small barrel of ale. “This is a dish we prepared for you—diced meat with mashed potatoes, a famous French delicacy. You must be tired from the journey. Take a break, have something to eat and drink, and let the boy talk to his father for a while.”

“Stay for the time it takes to burn a candle, then leave immediately.”

The four guards considered for a moment, eyeing the young Olaf and the short, wiry Hoskuld. They nodded, took the pot and barrel, and sat down to eat and drink.

Olaf and Hoskuld approached Haldor, whose gaunt face and sunken cheeks made their hearts ache. They knew he had suffered greatly these past few days—endless marching with little food or rest. If he were truly sent to the glaciers, he might not even survive the journey.

Hoskuld silently cursed Sigfoss and Kolsvin for their cruelty, while Olaf embraced his father, whispering the rescue plan into his ear.

To the guards, who were eating and drinking while keeping a close watch, it seemed like Olaf was simply expressing his love and concern for his father.

Haldor was already emotional upon seeing Olaf and Hoskuld, and after hearing the plan, his body trembled with excitement. One of the guards noticed and sneered loudly.

After finishing the pot of mashed potatoes and the barrel of ale, the guards stood up, praising the dish before ordering Olaf and Hoskuld to leave at once.

Hoskuld pulled Olaf away, hurrying eastward. The guards leisurely mounted their horses, and the last one tugged on the rope binding Haldor’s legs. “Move along. Let’s pick up the pace today. We’ll rest on the eastern bank tonight.”

The lead guard, his fingernails caked with black mud, picked at the meat stuck in his teeth as he mumbled, “After eating the fine food your son brought, we won’t march this afternoon. Let you rest a bit, huh? Your family even uses black pepper—no wonder you’re a district leader.”

Olaf and Hoskuld walked far enough that the guards on horseback were no longer visible. Then they turned back, mounting their horses and galloping south before circling back east.

Soon, they spotted Heiner rushing out from the bushes and quickly reined in their horses.

“How did it go?” Heiner asked urgently.

“They all ate it,” Hoskuld said, slapping his forearm with satisfaction. “We’ll ambush them in the western forest. Once the poison takes effect, we’ll strike.”

Olaf estimated it would take about an hour for the guards and his father to reach the western forest. By then, the ale would have accelerated the effects of the dragon’s bane, and they would soon show symptoms. He nodded in agreement.

“The western forest is too close to the village. We can tie the horses in the woods and hide in the tall grass outside. By the time they get close, the poison should have taken effect—either they’ll be too weak from diarrhea or doubled over in pain. Then we can rush them.”

Hoskuld and Heiner trusted Olaf completely and burst into laughter at the plan.

The three quickly rode back to the forest, where they met Kalm. Finally, they were greeted by Jot, Hrutik, and Kadir, who had heard the commotion and come out to meet them.

Olaf explained his plan again. This time, Hrutik didn’t object. Instead, he frowned, looking at the others, who seemed convinced by Olaf’s words. He snorted coldly. “If we don’t ambush them in the forest, the guards might escape on horseback. But if your potatoes can poison them, making them vomit and suffer from diarrhea, then hiding outside the forest might work.”

He sighed. “I don’t see a better option. Since we’ve chosen to try your poison, we’ll trust you completely.”

Olaf breathed a sigh of relief and took a long sword from Hoskuld’s saddlebag. “Thank you, Uncle Hrutik. Thank you, Uncle Hoskuld and Uncle Kadir. Thank you, Heiner and Kalm. You are the closest thing I have to family. Thank you.”

Hrutik’s lips curled slightly. “Let’s get into position,” he said coldly, slinging his bow over his shoulder and drawing his sword before walking away. The others hurried after him.

Olaf smiled, taking a firm step forward as he brought up the rear.

Chapter 25: Ambition

Olaf and Hrutik, along with five others, crouched behind some shrubs two hundred paces east of the pine forest. Hrutik, with the sharpest eyes, was positioned at the front, occasionally glancing westward.

Time passed slowly, and the shadows beneath the sunlight shifted from west to north.

Gradually, four mounted guards appeared on the yellowish-green land in the distance. They slumped over their horses as if asleep, while Haldor, bound and walking behind them, staggered with each step.

“Be ready,” Hrutik whispered, drawing his bow and aiming at the approaching guards.

He wielded an English longbow, capable of firing two hundred paces with an effective killing range of one hundred and fifty. He silently calculated the distance, his focus unwavering.

Olaf and the others tightened their grips on their weapons, waiting for the guards to come closer before striking.

When the four guards were nearly a hundred paces away, they suddenly halted their horses. Dismounting, they stumbled to the side, dropped their pants, and squatted. After a long while, they clutched their stomachs and slowly returned.

Mounting their horses again took considerable effort, and they groaned, urging Haldor to hurry.

Seeing the guards’ sickly state, Hrutik and the others were delighted—the potato poison had taken effect. Their trust in Olaf deepened.

Originally, Hrutik had planned to attack within a hundred paces, but seeing the guards slumped over their horses, oblivious to their surroundings, he decided to let them come even closer.

Holding his breath, he waited until the guards were just fifty paces away. Through the gaps in the shrubs, he could almost make out their features. Only then did he loose his arrow and shout, “Attack!”

Hrutik’s arrow flew straight and true, piercing the back of the lead guard—a burly, bearded man still lost in the agony of his stomach cramps. He died instantly.

Thud.

The four horses continued forward, but the dead guard tumbled off, hitting the ground with a heavy sound. The remaining three guards turned to see the arrow protruding from their companion’s back. Panicked, they scrambled to their feet, grabbing their weapons from their horses and scanning ahead.

Swoosh.

Another arrow struck one guard in the face, sending him crashing to the ground. The last two, despite their stomach pains, gritted their teeth and readied their weapons, preparing to charge on horseback.

At that moment, the two remaining guards, weakened by diarrhea and blurred vision, failed to recognize Olaf and Hoskuld. Mistaking them for starving refugees, they thought a simple charge would scatter them.

Kadir, seeing the guards just twenty paces away, drew the short spears from his waist and hurled them with all his might.

Two iron spears whistled through the air. One grazed the left guard’s forearm, while the other struck him square in the chest.

The guard, already weakened and disoriented, had no chance to dodge. Under normal circumstances, he would never have been killed by a thrown spear.

The last guard suddenly found himself face-to-face with Hoskuld, Kalm, and Heiner. The three men dared not block his path and quickly dodged to the sides. If the guard had been at his peak, he could have ridden in a semicircle, cutting down one of them first.

But in his weakened state, he could only turn his horse and charge at Kalm.

Kalm and Hoskuld, true to their Viking heritage, hurled their short spears and axes at the guard. Heiner, skilled with a sword, approached from the side, ready to strike the guard’s ribs when he came close.

Three or four spears and axes rained down on the guard. He dodged two axes but was struck by one axe and a spear in the shoulder blade and arm, sending him tumbling from his horse.

Heiner swiftly stepped forward, and with a thunk, his slender sword pierced the guard’s body through a gap in his leather armor. The guard let out a low, guttural cry before convulsing and dying.

Olaf rushed to Haldor’s side, cutting the ropes binding his father. Haldor rubbed his wrists and walked over to the now lifeless guards. After a slow circle, he spoke in a low, somber tone, “With the guards dead, Iceland, Denmark, Norway, and the Faroe Islands will no longer tolerate us. We have no choice but to seek out Haig.”

“Quickly, drag the bodies away and bury them.”

Hrutik grabbed one of the guard’s legs, and together, they hauled the four corpses to a remote spot and buried them. Then, they returned to the forest, gathered the horses, and set off westward—eight men and eleven horses. To avoid recognition and trouble, Haldor wrapped half his face in a cloak.

On the third morning, they reached the Haukadalur region, now close to Big Port. A day’s ride would take them there.

“Sigfoss is probably in the governor’s mansion with Kolsvin, drinking wine and dancing with the ladies. Meanwhile, we’re about to be exiled, forced to fight savages for land. Damn it all!”

Haldor gazed westward, his sharp eyes seeming to pierce through the void, as if he could strike down his enemies in Big Port.

“Big Port has nearly a hundred governor’s guards, not to mention Sigfoss’s household servants, and the guards from the taverns, shops, and livestock markets. We’re no match for them.”

Hrutik, worried that Haldor’s rage might lead to reckless actions, quickly reminded him.

Haldor turned to see the concerned looks of his closest friends and family. He smiled faintly. “We have at most five days. If the guards don’t return to Big Port in five days, Kolsvin will send people to investigate. Our escape and the killings won’t stay hidden for long. These next few days are our golden opportunity. Let’s return to Hrut Village and then leave by ship. But we will come back—next time, it will be for revenge.”

Perhaps overcoming the psychological barrier of killing the guards had emboldened Haldor. He now radiated confidence and ambition. Olaf knew that the Thirty Years’ War was raging across the European continent. The Black Death and warfare had drained the nations’ strength and attention, leaving colonial efforts in their infancy. Maybe he could be bolder, more ambitious. In the future, he might lead an army to sweep across Iceland, avenge his family, and then make a name for himself in Europe.

“Father, uncles, when we return, it will be to liberate Iceland—to free our people from Danish rule and let us govern ourselves!”

Olaf’s youthful face flushed with excitement. Sitting tall on his horse, his eyes burned with determination and hope for the future.

Hrutik and the others were stunned by Olaf’s words. Despite his young age, he spoke with a courage and vision beyond his years, knowledge, and status. It was as if he possessed an innate gift. They began to believe that Olaf’s dreams might truly come to pass.

Years later, Heiner would still vividly recall that moment in Haukadalur when Olaf, mounted on his horse, pointed toward the mist-shrouded Big Port. The way he seemed to command the heavens and earth, his voice filled with the grand ambition of reshaping the world—it was then that Heiner truly became Olaf’s devoted friend.

Chapter 26: Setting Sail

When they returned to Hrut Village, it was already night. Haldor ordered Jot, Kadir, and the others to organize the relocation. At that moment, Olaf’s two uncles’ families were waiting in their own homes.

Hrutik rode a horse to the nearby shore to find the cog ship Thor’s Hammer, the vessel that carried everyone’s future and hopes.

In the darkness, Hrut Village suddenly became noisy. The thirty-plus households were awakened one by one by Jot and the others. The lamps in the stone houses were lit, and amidst the grumbling of a few and the anxious unease of most, they quickly packed their belongings, clothes, and other items. After dawn, they began leaving their homes one family at a time, appearing in Haldor’s courtyard and outside.

Haldor, Jot, Kalm, Hoskuld, Kadir, Heiner, and four other men from the village who listened most to Haldor patrolled the village with weapons in hand. They were on guard against people from other villages or Big Port approaching and discovering their plans, but they were also worried that some villagers, out of fear or reluctance to leave, might escape. Either outcome could spell disaster for everyone, so these ten men were fierce and determined, ready to kill without mercy.

After nearly an hour, the night grew deeper. It was already the latter half of the night. The thirty-plus households of White Hazel Forest Hrut Village, over a hundred people, gathered in and around Haldor’s courtyard. They carried large and small bundles of their belongings, and many led cows and horses, the most valuable assets in their homes and the precious support for agricultural development.

Haldor signaled everyone to keep watch around them. He walked into the courtyard, his face calm as he looked at the villagers outside and inside, their faces anxious and their eyes filled with fear as they looked at him. Many of them were related to Haldor’s family, and they had always interacted as equals. But tonight, Haldor and his group suddenly seemed like demons, forcing them out of bed with weapons and making them leave together. This left them dazed and afraid.

Haldor sighed inwardly, but his expression grew even more solemn. He stood on the water trough in the courtyard, glancing at his wife, Olaf, Half, and Gerny nearby. In a deep voice, he said, “The governor and Sigfoss have conspired to seize all the land and property of Hrut Village, turning us all into their slaves and tenants, stripping you of your status as free men. To resist, I have already killed the guards. Now, I must leave Iceland and go to Vinland to find my dear brother Haig. There are sweet grapes, fertile and vast lands, and a warm climate. There is an endless supply of fish, shrimp, and wild beasts. Once we reach Vinland, I will distribute land to everyone again. Whatever land you had in Iceland, you will receive double in Vinland. Now, do you want to stay in Iceland and become slaves of the Sigfoss family, losing your land, wealth, and personal freedom, or do you want to come with me to the rich and beautiful Vinland to rebuild our homes?”

As soon as Haldor finished speaking, the courtyard and outside buzzed with discussion. People began to talk, their expressions growing more panicked.

After a moment, apart from a few households closest to Haldor’s family who expressed their willingness to leave with him, the others were still discussing.

Olaf knew that most of these people did not want to leave. If they continued to hesitate and formed a united front, it would be troublesome. So, he quickly cleared his throat and gave Heiner a glance.

Heiner struck the stone wall with his long sword, creating a sharp and loud noise that silenced the discussions.

“Shut up!” Heiner shouted. “Those who come with us will have money, land, and status. Those who stay will be treated as slaves. If you don’t think about yourselves, think about your children.”

Hoskuld also reacted, adding, “That’s right. I am from Big Port. Sigfoss is more greedy than a night wolf. If you are not afraid of your wives and daughters being toyed with, then stay.”

The threats from the two men startled the indecisive people, and their thoughts of staying faded.

Olaf quickly shouted, “Vinland has savages. If you come with us, you can get some savage slaves. Then, you will have people to serve you, and you won’t have to farm the land yourselves. Everyone will be masters.”

Haldor repeated Olaf’s words and added, “Haig said he wants to rebuild the glory of our ancestor Hrut with me. When we establish our country in Vinland, you will all be founding heroes, and everyone can be granted a title of nobility.”

Perhaps the benefits and prospects promised by Haldor were too tempting, or perhaps the swords in the hands of Hoskuld and the others were too frightening. In the end, everyone agreed to follow Haldor to Vinland to create a new homeland and build a new country.

Haldor saw that the sky was gradually brightening and knew that time was of the essence. With a wave of his hand, the group of over a hundred people, along with dozens of cows, horses, and sheep, carrying their food and belongings, left Hrut Village and arrived at a desolate beach on the south coast.

This desolate beach was the most convenient place near Hrut Village to enter the sea. Standing on the beach, they could see a huge cog ship with its sails furled, floating on the sea a few hundred steps away.

Hrutik waited on the shore. When he saw Haldor and the others approaching, he sighed in relief and went to meet them.

The desolate beach had no dock, so the large ship could not approach the shore. They had to use small boats to slowly transport people.

Olaf’s younger brother, White Bear Halik, and Solrak, Erik, and Val’s fathers were the four most loyal followers of Haldor and Jot, as these four men were Haldor’s assistants in sea raids.

Among them, Val’s father, Big Ear Valitu, and Erik’s father, Lunde, were fishermen. Their boats, along with those of two other fishing households, were docked by the sea. Haldor called the four men over, and after a brief discussion, the four small boats began ferrying the people of Hrut Village onto Thor’s Hammer.

Half an hour later, as the sun rose high in the sky, thirty-seven households, one hundred and thirty-five people, thirty horses, twenty cows, and eighty-five sheep were all on board, filling the large deck and cabins.

In Olaf’s eyes, Thor’s Hammer was somewhat old but very large.

The ancient cog ship had a length of over fifty meters and a width of over twenty meters, making it appear bulky and massive. Since Iceland’s economy was based on livestock and fur exports, Icelandic sea vessels were often built larger and wider to carry more livestock to Denmark, Norway, England, and other places for a good price.

Additionally, because cog ships were built taller, they had an advantage in height during sea raids, giving them a greater edge in boarding battles.

Thus, at the end of the last century, the traditional clinker-built shipbuilding method of the Nordic countries was replaced by the more advanced carvel-built method from the south, leading to the construction of larger cog ships.

The second level of Thor’s Hammer was not small, but with so many people and livestock, it still felt crowded. However, since the voyage would only take a few days, everyone could endure it.

Haldor and the others possessed the advanced navigation techniques passed down through generations of Vikings. After looking at the hand-drawn navigation map that Ulf had previously brought back, they discussed and finalized the sailing route.

It was now late autumn, and the warm currents of the Atlantic were still circulating around Iceland. The cold currents of the Arctic Ocean were also weakly flowing towards the southwest. Setting sail now would allow them to follow the wind to Greenland. After resting and resupplying in Greenland, they could continue south to Vinland.

Haldor estimated that the entire voyage would take no more than ten days, with the Greenland segment taking about three days.

It wouldn’t take long for the resilient Icelanders to accept the temporary cramped conditions in the stuffy, dark cabins. Olaf followed Haldor, Hrutik, Hilt, and a few others back to the deck. The adults hoisted the sails, and Olaf sat in the pilot’s cabin at the stern to observe.

Hrutik personally took the helm. Soon, Thor’s Hammer slowly began to move, driven by the wind, pushing through the waves as it sailed westward. Like a soaring seabird, it glided across the water, flying towards the distant land of freedom.

Chapter 27: Greenland

Under the influence of the Arctic Ocean’s autumn currents, Thor’s Hammer reached its top speed of seven or eight knots. Though there were no reference points on the vast sea, Olaf, standing on the deck, could still estimate the speed by the wind brushing against his face—it felt comparable to riding a low-end electric scooter.

While the ship’s speed was far slower than those of later eras, as long as the wind direction remained steady, Thor’s Hammer could maintain this pace without stopping. Calculating the distance, they could cover over three hundred and fifty kilometers in a day.

Greenland was only about three hundred kilometers from Iceland. If not for the unpredictable winds and the inability to sail in a straight line, Olaf and his companions might have reached Greenland in just one day.

This was the early seventeenth century, the golden age of the Age of Exploration. Central and South America had already fallen under Spanish colonial rule, while North America had been developed by the English and French, who had established outposts to plunder precious medicinal herbs, furs, and other treasures.

Due to the thriving Atlantic shipping routes, piracy flourished in the Caribbean, while European waters, patrolled by the navies of various nations, had become less hospitable to pirates.

In his youth, Haldor had only dared to raid small ships near Ireland. The idea of emulating their ancestors, who had once dominated the North Sea and the Baltic, was now impossible.

Since there were no merchant ships near Iceland and Greenland, pirates had long since vanished from these waters. If they had been in the Caribbean, Olaf’s ship might have been raided eight times over in just one day.

Thor’s Hammer sailed for two days under clear skies. It wasn’t until noon on the second day that Haldor, standing on the deck, spotted floating ice in the distance. He let out a sigh of relief, making the sign of the cross. “Thank God. Seeing the ice means we’re almost to Greenland. Two days without wind or rain—what luck.”

In this era, if a ship encountered storms at sea, there was a real risk of sinking. Even if the ship didn’t capsize, being blown off course could lead to stranding on a desolate island with no hope of rescue—a fate worse than death.

Hrutik and the others also relaxed, making the sign of the cross in gratitude.

Only Olaf remained pale, slumped over a wooden barrel nearby.

This was the second time Olaf had appeared on deck since boarding. Yesterday, he had spent some time in the cabin before succumbing to seasickness. Thanks to his strong constitution and quick recovery, he felt much better by this morning.

Determined to overcome his seasickness, Olaf had insisted on coming out for some fresh air. But after just a few steps, he was back over the barrel.

“Olaf, you should go below and rest. Maybe next time you’ll be better,” Haldor said, lifting his son with concern.

Olaf shook his head, tightening his robe and hat. “A descendant of Vikings can’t be seasick. I have to overcome this,” he said, his voice trembling.

With Haldor’s support, Olaf took a few more steps, his expression gradually improving.

After about an hour, the sun began to dip toward the west. Haldor and the others saw a massive, snow-white glacier growing clearer on the horizon.

Three more hours passed before Thor’s Hammer navigated through the floating ice and anchored near the closest shore.

Haldor glanced at his companions. “Who’s going to check it out?”

“I’ll go,” Hrutik said, taking his bow, arrows, and long sword, preparing to disembark.

Haldor quickly stopped him. “We Icelanders and Norwegians haven’t set foot on Greenland in two or three hundred years. They say there are Unipads there—short, savage people who eat raw meat but are fierce warriors. Our ancestors fought them often. We don’t know what it’s like now. If you go alone and run into them, it could be dangerous. Kadir, Jot, Valitu, Lunde—you four go with Hrutik. If it’s safe, come back, and we’ll send more people. We’ll gather fresh water and cut some moss to feed the livestock before setting sail for Vinland.”

Hrutik, not being Icelandic, knew little about Greenland. After hearing Haldor’s warning, he nodded. The five men, armed with weapons and flintlocks, rowed ashore on a raft made of wood and sheepskin.

Haldor, Olaf, and the others watched from the deck as Hrutik and his group disappeared into the grayish landscape.

Half an hour passed, and as dusk approached, there was still no sign of Hrutik’s return. Haldor grew anxious, fearing the worst. He grabbed his axe, ready to lead a search party.

Olaf knew his father was the backbone of Thor’s Hammer. If he left, the crew would panic. He stepped forward, grabbing Haldor’s arm. “Father, maybe Uncle Hrutik and the others will be back soon. Even if we have to look for them, you can’t go.”

“But if they’re in danger, I can’t just sit here!” Haldor frowned, grabbing two more throwing axes. “Don’t worry, Olaf. I’ll find them and come right back.”

Olaf admired his father’s loyalty, but without him, the ship would descend into chaos. He, Heiner, and Hoskuld couldn’t control the hundred-plus crew members. If they demanded to return to Iceland, it would be a disaster.

Just as Haldor and Olaf were at an impasse, Hilt suddenly pointed ahead. “Deputy Captain Hrutik is back!”

“Where?” Haldor rushed to the railing and saw Hrutik and the others returning to the shore.

Hrutik waved from the beach before the five men rowed back to the ship.

Climbing up the rope ladder, Hrutik shook Haldor’s hand with a smile. “The area looks good. There’s a bay further in with two river mouths. The rivers aren’t big, but the water is clean and plentiful. We can go there to cut grass and gather water.”

“Good,” Haldor said, embracing Hrutik.

Hrutik continued, “We walked thousands of steps and didn’t see any ancient ruins. It seems no one has lived here before. We did find some small animal droppings—probably foxes, dogs, or wolves.”

Haldor nodded and ordered the men to disembark in groups to gather water, cut grass, and search for animal droppings and dry firewood. After all, with over a hundred people on board, they needed to eat—raw meat wouldn’t do.

Olaf wanted to go ashore and explore. After some thought, Haldor agreed. Hrutik led nearly forty men ashore, with Olaf sticking close to Heiner, Kadir, and Hoskuld. The other children and Kalm and Kalhu stayed on the ship with Haldor.

As soon as Olaf stepped ashore, he saw towering mountains in every direction. The climate was similar to Iceland’s, though slightly colder.

The ground and hills were covered in hardy, low-growing grasses and mosses, soft underfoot like a carpet.

Though the climate was cold, the coastal areas experienced a few warm months each year, allowing the vegetation to thrive. Over centuries, the soil had become rich, and the plants grew lush and resilient.

Hrutik instructed Kadir, Jot, and the others to fetch fresh water first, then cut grass.

The men carried farming tools and sheepskin water bags, knowing their families and livestock depended on this. They obediently followed Hrutik in groups, heading westward along the bay’s slope.

Chapter 28: The Inuit

As they traveled, the group admired the scenery, similar yet distinct from Iceland. Venturing deeper inland, they reached the clear, rushing streams fed by the distant towering glaciers. Hand in hand, they stepped onto the damp, slippery ground by the riverbank, filling their sheepskin bags with water. Once each had gathered four or five gallons, they tied the bags shut and carried them back to shore.

After everyone had collected their water, Hrutik led them to a fertile patch of land near the riverbank. Together, they cut grass to feed the livestock. While the others crouched, using shovels to gather the grass, Hrutik, Kadir, and the others stood guard, scanning their surroundings. Olaf mimicked their vigilance.

Suddenly, Hrutik’s eyes narrowed. Silently, he drew his bow and fired an arrow toward a hillock to the north. A strange howl echoed in the distance, and the group dropped their tools, grabbing their weapons as they hurried toward the sound.

Upon closer inspection, they found a gray-furred creature lying on the side of the hillock, an arrow lodged in its body.

“What is this? It looks like a wolf but has the build of an ape.”

“Could it be a werewolf?”

“What kind of night wolf is this? It’s not even evening yet.”

The group murmured in confusion as they cautiously approached. Olaf, however, wore a strange expression. As they drew nearer, the others sighed in relief.

The creature was not a beast but a short, stocky human dressed in a wolfskin coat, which had led to the misunderstanding.

Hrutik flipped the man over with his spear. The man’s eyes were closed, his face flat with small features, his skin a reddish-yellow hue—an odd appearance unlike anything they had seen before. Hrutik turned to Haldor for an explanation.

Haldor’s mind flashed with insight. Pointing at the injured, nearly unconscious man, he declared, “This is a Unipad.”

The group nodded in understanding and gathered around to examine the legendary ape-man.

Olaf, however, knew this small man was not an ape-man but an Eskimo—an Inuit.

The Inuit were a people who lived in the far north, practicing shamanism. They were short in stature, with facial features and skin tone similar to Asians. Ethnically, they were a branch of the Mongols, sharing ancestors with the nomadic and fishing-hunting peoples of the Changbai Mountains, Siberia, and the Mongolian steppes.

Because Europeans had prominent features and fair skin, the Inuit’s appearance seemed alien to them. Coupled with their primitive culture, they were often mistaken for ape-like savages.

Olaf recalled a documentary from his past life about the Inuit, who lived in family units, never alone. This injured Inuit likely had a group of seven or eight, or even twenty to thirty, behind him. They were a hardy people, surviving in icy wastelands, hunting whales, walruses, sea lions, and seals. If not for their scattered population and small numbers, they might have developed a civilization akin to the khanates of Asia.

“Father, Unipads live in groups. This one doesn’t look old, so his elders can’t be far. If we’ve injured him, we might have trouble if they come looking for a fight. We should leave quickly,” Olaf said, not wanting an unnecessary battle with the Inuit. He urged the group to depart.

Haldor and the others nodded in agreement and turned to leave.

Just then, the young Inuit woke up, grimacing in pain.

Hrutik raised his sword, ready to kill him, but Olaf couldn’t bear to take an innocent life. The familiarity of the man’s yellowish skin also stirred a sense of kinship in him. He quickly stopped Hrutik.

“Uncle Hrutik, Father, even if we can’t let him go, perhaps we can take him with us. Vinland has many Unipads. If we educate this young one and teach him Icelandic, he might help us communicate with the Unipads in Vinland. That would be very beneficial for our development there.”

Olaf’s plea was not just to save the man’s life but also a genuine consideration of the advantages a translator could bring. His tone grew slower yet more persuasive.

Hrutik and Haldor hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement.

Hrutik struck the Inuit, who was clutching his wound and muttering, with a fist to the head, knocking him unconscious. Then, he hoisted the Inuit onto his shoulder.

Fearful of pursuit by the Unipads, Hrutik, Haldor, and the others quickened their pace without needing to be urged, each carrying two bags filled with water and grass.

Back at the shore, Haldor and the others stood guard with their matchlock guns and bows while Olaf and the rest took the rafts back to the ship in five trips, ensuring all forty-plus people were safely aboard.

As soon as they boarded, Haldor ordered the ship to set sail. Hilt, Jot, and the others raised the anchor and hoisted the sails, while Hrutik took the helm.

With the sails shifting in the wind, Thor’s Hammer slowly turned and sailed out of the ice floes, heading south.

Just as the ship was pulling away from the shore, a distant commotion arose from the coastline. Haldor and the others turned to see a group of people in brown deerskin clothing, brandishing wooden spears and shouting.

Olaf’s heart skipped a beat, but he soon relaxed.

Kadir quickly counted and exclaimed, “There are thirty or forty Unipads on the east coast of Greenland. It’s a good thing we left early. If they had surrounded us, we would have been in trouble.”

Haldor nodded and instructed Jot to take the Unipad, whose smooth-faced appearance made his age difficult to guess, to the side to remove the arrowhead and bandage the wound.

“If he survives, he can serve Olaf. If he dies, throw him into the sea to feed the fish,” Haldor said indifferently. The others agreed, making Olaf realize that to the Europeans, whose culture was rooted in Catholicism and Christianity, the Inuit, like the Native Americans and Incas, were no different from beasts.

For centuries, influenced by the dual export of Western culture and military power, they only presented themselves as civilized to those of the same cultural background. Facing different cultures, their sole focus was on carving out a piece of flesh from others.

If a nation was strong, they would attempt brutal colonization. If that failed, they would export religion and culture, appearing civilized and courteous. But the moment a nation showed weakness, they would instantly change, becoming the most vicious hyenas.

Portugal, in its colonization of South America and Southeast Asia, destroyed countless kingdoms. Initially, they tried to force open the doors of the Ming Dynasty with armed merchant ships, but after two crushing defeats, they had to humbly rent land in Macau and bribe local officials to barely pry open the Ming Dynasty’s trade gates.

Throughout the Ming Dynasty, much of the gold and silver mined and traded by Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands flowed into Ming China, leading to the saying, “Half the world’s gold and silver enters the Ming.”

The Ming Dynasty then distributed some of this wealth through tribute policies and smuggling in Jiangnan to Korea, Ryukyu, Vietnam, Japan, and other countries, ensuring that East Asia did not suffer from a shortage of gold and silver currency.

But during the transition from Ming to Qing, the Dutch occupied Taiwan, a clear example of Western powers taking advantage of chaos to seize territory.

Two hundred years later, the “Great Qing Dynasty” went from a sleeping lion to a paper tiger. The Western powers, who had been exporting gold and silver to China for centuries, could no longer contain themselves. Through the Opium Wars, they tested the waters and found the sleeping lion had become a paper tiger. The once-prosperous and civilized eastern empire became a backward and ignorant land in their eyes—a source of coolie labor and raw materials, a lower civilization. This perception persisted until the establishment of a great nation, but even then, China had not fully regained its status from the Ming Dynasty. It was destined to be a long and arduous path to great rejuvenation.

Chapter 29: Pikku

Leaving Greenland, Thor’s Hammer sailed swiftly southward along the northeastern winds of the Arctic Ocean. After a day’s journey, the floating ice gradually diminished, and whether it was Haldor, Hrutik, or Olaf, they all knew they were nearing Vinland.

After consulting the map, Olaf realized that Vinland was none other than Newfoundland in Canada, an island half the size of Iceland but with a far better climate and richer resources.

This place boasted fishing grounds that rivaled those of Iceland and Norway, renowned in later centuries. The island also held abundant mineral deposits, which, once surveyed and mined, would provide a solid foundation for establishing independence in Iceland.

By the next morning, the Inuit man had awoken. Seeming to understand his situation, he remained calm and obedient, quietly resting to recover from his injuries.

On the third morning, Olaf, along with Heiner, Red-haired Tom, Solrak, Halik, and others, went to visit the unfortunate Inuit man.

Olaf carried a plate with roasted lamb chops, their golden-brown crusts crisp and fragrant with the rich aroma of fat.

The Inuit man, catching the scent, sat up and stared wide-eyed at the lamb chops in Olaf’s hands.

“What’s your name?” Olaf asked slowly, standing before the Inuit man.

The Inuit man looked confused and wary, his gaze shifting uneasily among Olaf and the others.

After a moment’s thought, Olaf pointed to his chest and said deliberately, “I am Olaf Haldorsson.”

“Heiner Williams.”

“Halik.”

“Solrak.”

“Lixstrom.”

The others also took the hint and introduced themselves.

The Inuit man watched for a while before seeming to understand. He pointed to himself and said, “Mohopikku.”

Olaf nodded and smiled. “Your name is Mohopikku. Eat.”

He placed the lamb chops in front of Pikku and gestured for him to eat.

Pikku glanced at Olaf and the others before reaching out with hands caked in black mud and greedily devouring the lamb chops, making loud smacking sounds.

Olaf swallowed hard, seemingly hungry himself.

“This ape-man eats so amusingly.”

“He’s like a starving dog.”

“But watching him eat makes me hungry too, haha.”

Tom and the others pointed at Pikku and joked, while Olaf remained silent. Only after Pikku finished eating and wiped his hands on himself did Olaf begin to speak slowly, using gestures to communicate.

Perhaps moved by the delicious lamb chops, Pikku treated Olaf warmly. The two communicated through a mix of guesswork and gestures.

After a long while, Olaf led the group away, leaving Pikku to rest.

Through half a day of communication, Olaf learned that Pikku was only twenty years old, about the same age as his brother Ulf. Among the Inuit, he had just come of age and was searching for reindeer tracks when Hrutik shot him with an arrow.

Pikku knew he had become a captive servant to these white men. He had heard from the elders of his tribe about the great white nation to the east across the sea, where the white men were powerful, with massive ships and sharp, sturdy iron tools.

At first, Pikku thought of escaping once he recovered, but seeing how kindly Olaf, the young leader of the white men, treated him—almost like a friend—his simple and guileless nature made him abandon the idea of escape for now. He wanted to stay with the white men, learn their advanced culture, and if he could help his tribe obtain some iron tools, it would greatly improve their lives.

The language of Pikku’s Inuit tribe was simple, with few words. Heiner, after listening for a while, found it fascinating and pulled Olaf aside. “Since Uncle Haldor has made Pikku your servant, he’ll need to learn some Icelandic eventually. I’ve been wanting to learn their ape-man language. Let me teach him.”

Olaf laughed. “That’s a great idea, Heiner. You’re a nobleman, the most educated among us. It’s perfect for you to teach him. Who knows, he might even be of great help to us in the future.”

Olaf took Heiner to see Haldor and requested that Heiner teach Pikku their language. Haldor agreed with a wave of his hand and instructed Heiner to also teach Pikku some manners, as he was still a savage.

After the entire village of Hrut Village relocated, Haldor’s status and prestige as the team leader grew steadily. His dual roles as village chief and ship captain, along with key personnel like Vice Captain Hrutik and Jot managing the village, formed a clear division of labor, almost giving birth to a miniature organizational structure.

Olaf knew that regardless of how well his uncle Haig managed in Vinland, their group of over a hundred people would inevitably continue to expand their territory upon arrival, leading to conflicts with the native people of Vinland. War was unavoidable.

These few days were crucial for Haldor to establish his authority and unite everyone under his command. With over a hundred followers, Haldor would have a foundation for development in Vinland. Whether capturing Indians or Inuit as slaves or bringing white slaves from England, Scotland, or Ireland, as long as the population didn’t expand too rapidly in the short term, they could maintain their ruling position.

In his past life, Olaf was just an ordinary commoner with no understanding of power struggles, but he had watched many films and TV shows, picking up some good ideas to share with Haldor.

Haldor took these suggestions seriously and, over the past few days, had been amiably chatting with the villagers, promising them a bright future if they followed him. Sometimes, he would bring along the core fighting force—Hrutik, Jot, Kadir, Hoskuld, Heiner, Kalm, Kalhu, Valitu, Lunde, Big Solrak, Nilanhu, and Hilt—twelve men in total—to practice shooting birds and drill with weapons on the deck.

The sound of gunfire, the smell of gunpowder, and the battle cries frightened the villagers below deck, making them even more reverent toward Haldor. They also gained a clearer understanding of their own safety and future, feeling more at ease.

Since the Spanish square formation took shape last century, armies worldwide had adopted this formation, relying mainly on mercenaries but also forming some elite guards based on the Spanish square.

Hrutik, formerly the military police sergeant of his own three-hundred-man company, naturally trained the others in the formation of the Spanish long pike infantry. In less than two days, they had already begun to resemble a proper military formation.

Confidently, Hrutik told Haldor that if given enough personnel and time in Vinland, he could train a company of long pike infantry and a company of musketeers, enough to conquer and sweep through the primitive people of Vinland.

Haldor was greatly tempted and promised to do everything possible to support Hrutik in building a powerful army.

Olaf, hearing Hrutik boast about the invincibility of the Spanish square, was unimpressed.

The Spanish square was indeed a groundbreaking development last century, rendering medieval knights and sword-and-shield soldiers obsolete. It combined the close combat of long pike infantry with the explosive firepower of musketeers, creating a modernized formation that protected both near and far.

This formation had become the basic structure of armies worldwide, but as Olaf knew, the Dutch Maurice formation had already defeated the Spanish twice in battle. The Maurice formation’s greater mobility and broader firepower coverage had already surpassed the cumbersome Spanish square.

In another five or six years, the Lion of the North would lead the Swedish army, using the Gustavus formation to defeat the forces of the Holy Roman Empire, becoming one of the greatest military leaders in European history. The Gustavus formation would be used on European battlefields until World War I.

Olaf believed that if they were to train an army, they should adopt the Gustavus formation instead of the outdated Spanish square.

Chapter 30: Arrival

Olaf quickly set aside his thoughts about forming a military formation. After all, they hadn’t even reached Vinland yet. Whether they could quickly establish a foothold and carve out their own territory was still uncertain. Even if they became local leaders, whether they could build an army remained unknown. The real issue at hand was how to secure their position once they arrived in Vinland.

Haldor had promised the villagers double the land if they moved their families here. If he couldn’t deliver, what kind of leader would he be?

The primary task in Vinland was to develop farmland and seize territory from the Native Americans and Inuit.

Olaf had discussed this with Haldor, who revealed that he and Hrutik had already planned everything. Once they arrived in Vinland, they would first find Haig, then combine their forces. With their flintlock muskets, bows, spears, and axes, they would drive away the locals, clear the forests, and establish a settlement.

Olaf realized they had thought things through more carefully than he had. He remembered that the first Europeans to colonize were the Vikings, so Haldor and his men must be experts.

After another day, at noon, they spotted a dark mass of land to the south.

Haldor, confident in his navigation skills, nodded excitedly and said, “We’ve reached Vinland.”

They passed three or four islands before finally seeing the true face of Vinland.

A great river flowed into the sea, flanked by rugged rocks. In the distance, mountains rolled across the horizon, while the shore was covered in lush grass and towering trees.

“The climate here is much better than Iceland,” Hrutik remarked, pointing at the tall trees on the shore.

The others nodded in agreement, pleased with what they saw.

Haldor steered Thor’s Hammer to the river mouth, then sent several men to pull the ship upstream during high tide. The vessel slowly made its way up the river. Fearing hidden reefs, Haldor chose a flat area to anchor. After dropping anchor and furling the sails, Hrutik led a group ashore to scout the area. They returned after a long while.

“There are no signs of natives nearby,” Hrutik reported, his shirt unbuttoned as he took a sip of water. “About three thousand paces to the south, there’s an open area. We can start by cutting down trees and building a camp, then look for Haig.”

Haldor nodded and personally led a group armed with flintlock muskets and other weapons ashore. They spread out to guard the area while the villagers slowly disembarked.

Olaf, his mother Katrin, and his siblings stepped onto the shore. Once everyone and the livestock were ashore, Haldor led them southeast.

Under Haldor and Hrutik’s guidance, the group moved through dense forests until they reached an open area filled with low fruit trees and vines. There were few large trees here, and the terrain was flat. To the east, a small stream flowed nearby—it was the perfect place to build a village.

“This place is great,” Haldor said, satisfied. He ordered Jot to lead the group in clearing the land and building houses, while he and Hrutik took a few others to explore the surroundings.

Olaf and a group of young boys and girls, led by several women, used wooden sticks to beat down the grass, driving away snakes, rats, and insects. Once the grass was flattened, they rode horses over it to ensure it was safe to walk on.

The men worked efficiently, cutting down trees, digging pits, and constructing simple wooden houses. By nightfall, they had built five large wooden frames, their roofs covered with branches and vines. As darkness fell, Jot and the others worked quickly, setting up half-height fences and digging traps around the houses.

Haldor and his group returned, dragging two reindeer. The animals were already dead, pierced by arrows and spears.

“Tonight, we’ll have venison,” Haldor announced, tossing the deer down. He skillfully skinned one, pulling off a complete hide in moments. Lunde hung the other deer from a tree to skin and gut it.

The two reindeer weighed less than fifty pounds combined. Each family received a portion, which they cooked over a fire.

“Children, come here,” Haldor called, sitting on a wooden stool. He beckoned Olaf, Half, and Gerny over, then pulled a cluster of dark purple, glossy grapes from a pouch made of deer hide. “Want some grapes?”

Olaf had eaten grapes before in his past life—with seeds, without seeds, and even raisins. But Half and Gerny had only heard of grapes, never seen or tasted them.

Olaf took the cluster, plucked a grape, rubbed it clean, and popped it into his mouth. The sweet-tart juice burst in his mouth, refreshing and delicious. Though not as sweet as the varieties he remembered from his past life, it was still quite good.

After eating two, Olaf divided the rest into three small clusters, giving one to each of his siblings and the last to his mother, Katrin.

Half and Gerny imitated Olaf, rubbing a grape before eating it. Their eyes lit up, and they happily continued eating.

Iceland had few resources, and fruits were almost nonexistent. Most Icelanders had never tasted fruit or sugar. Even in Haldor’s household, children only got a taste of black sugar milk pudding on special occasions. Fruit was unheard of.

Watching his children and wife carefully savor the grapes, their faces glowing with happiness, Haldor laughed heartily. “There’s a small valley to the southeast with plenty of grapes. Tomorrow, we’ll all go and pick some. We can eat what we want and make wine with the rest. Vinland truly lives up to its name as the ‘Land of Wine.’”

In the Icelandic language, “Vinland” meant “Land of Wine,” a name given by their ancestors when they first discovered the place.

Wine was a beloved drink in Europe. It satisfied people’s need for sugar and alcohol, was easy to store, and simple to make. Throughout European culture, wine was one of the most important beverages.

Hearing that there were grapes in the valley, the Icelanders were thrilled. Life in Vinland seemed even better than they had imagined. After a meal of venison and bread, they settled into the wooden houses for the night.

Haldor, Hrutik, and ten others kept watch by the bonfire, guarding against any attacks from natives or wild animals.

Vinland’s climate was much warmer than Iceland’s, and since it was only early autumn, the nights weren’t cold. The Icelanders slept comfortably under animal hides.

Chapter 31: Grapes

The next morning, a light rain fell, but the people of Iceland continued to build houses and repair fences, draped in their sheepskin cloaks. Meanwhile, Haldor led seven or eight sturdy men to explore the surrounding terrain.

That evening, they returned with several hundred pounds of grapes—some red, some purple, and a few still green. The dozens of families in the camp each received two or three pounds, which delighted the villagers, who had only recently arrived in Vinland and were still full of hope. They praised Haldor’s generosity loudly.

Days passed, and one wooden house after another was completed. Ten days later, thirty-eight houses stood in the camp, and construction finally ceased. Under the leadership of Jot and others, the villagers began fishing, hunting, gathering wild fruits and vegetables, and clearing land to plant radishes and oats.

Haldor watched the bustling activity in and around the camp with great satisfaction. The land in Vinland was fertile and vast. The nearby wilderness, once properly tended, would make excellent farmland. He estimated that before the weather turned completely cold, they could clear five virgates of land. By next spring, they could continue expanding, and the land he had promised them might be fully cultivated within two years.

Over the past few days, Haldor had explored an area of twenty thousand paces around the camp. He had discovered several long-abandoned primitive campsites, which they speculated had once belonged to the Skrælings or the Unipads. Perhaps due to war or disease, the inhabitants had moved away, leaving behind this expansive, fertile, unclaimed land.

What Haldor and his people did not know was that at this time, the lands of what would later become Canada and the United States were home to only one and a half to two million Native Americans, divided into dozens, even hundreds, of tribes, maintaining a balance of conflict and strife.

Apart from Mexico and the civilizations of Central and South America—such as the Aztecs, Incas, and Mayans—the vast expanse of North America had not given rise to a single nation, let alone a brilliant civilization.

Later scholars proposed a theory: the indigenous peoples of America had migrated from Asia across the Bering Strait, but this migration could not have been completed in a short time. The earlier migrants were displaced by later arrivals, forcing them to move southward and settle. Only the first few waves of Native Americans developed civilizations, while the later arrivals remained in a primitive state.

Without the arrival of white people, it might have taken thousands more years for America to develop a civilization comparable to the Spring and Autumn or Warring States periods of East Asia or the medieval era of Europe.

Vinland was what would later be known as Newfoundland, the largest island on the eastern coast of North America. It was not densely populated by Native Americans, and there were also many Inuit people. Tribal conflicts and ethnic warfare had persisted for centuries. The site of Haldor’s camp had been a Native American settlement decades ago but had been abandoned for various reasons.

Over the past few days, Olaf had been wandering around the camp with Heiner, Kalhu, Tom, and others. Pikku had recovered from his arrow wound and had been following Olaf closely.

Heiner’s efforts had not been in vain. He had learned much of the Inuit language and had taught Pikku some simple Icelandic words. More importantly, he had made Pikku understand his place and obey Olaf’s commands.

Although Pikku was Olaf’s servant, Olaf treated him with respect. Every day, Pikku enjoyed roasted and boiled delicacies, and he had come to accept his role.

Olaf was not aimlessly wandering. He was observing Vinland’s climate and environment and concluded that it was similar to that of Beijing or even northeastern China in the Ming Dynasty—much colder than Qingdao, his hometown in his past life.

Of course, Olaf also considered that it was November 1627 in the Julian calendar, and the Little Ice Age had already begun. Perhaps the climate had made Vinland colder than usual.

Olaf was neither a scientist nor an agricultural expert, but he wanted to use his knowledge, which was ahead of its time, and his foresight to help his father, Haldor, establish a stable homeland as quickly as possible and consolidate his family’s rule over it.

Over the past few days, Olaf had noticed that almost all the Icelandic families had an almost obsessive love for grapes, sugary fruits, and even honey—far more than they loved meat. It seemed that eating a single grape or wild fruit could bring them genuine happiness.

Olaf knew that sweets could bring happiness. He also knew that famous European desserts like macarons and tiramisu were luxuries because sugar was a rare commodity in Europe. The people of Iceland, even more isolated than their European neighbors, had even less access to sugar and honey, making them even more susceptible to the allure of sweet foods.

Olaf thought that if his family could cultivate the wild or semi-wild grapes of Vinland and master the techniques of grape farming, they would hold the key to the island’s population. If people wanted sugar, they would have to obey.

In his past life, Olaf had lived with his grandmother during his childhood and had grown grapes. He knew that grapevines could be propagated by cuttings. So, after discussing it with his father, he went to Grape Valley with his uncle Kadir. There, he selected several grapevines that bore the sweetest fruit, marked them, and planned to take cuttings in the spring to cultivate a superior variety. This would allow his family to control the production of grape wine and fresh grapes—two major sugar substitutes. Whether for their own use or for future export to Nordic countries, this would be a valuable asset.

Haldor was delighted with Olaf’s idea. He boasted to everyone that with Olaf in the family, the Hrut clan would surely surpass their ancestors.

In addition to focusing on agricultural development, Olaf and Haldor also prioritized finding Haig’s camp.

Two days ago, Haldor had sent Hrutik, Hilt, and several others on a ship to search for Haig’s camp along the coastline of Vinland. They hoped to find Haig soon so that the brothers could join forces to build a homeland in the harsh, primitive land of Vinland.

Vinland was about half the size of Iceland, comparable to the combined size of Henan and Shandong provinces in the Ming Dynasty. With such a vast, undeveloped wilderness, finding a settlement of a few hundred people was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

However, Haldor knew that Haig’s camp was built by the sea. If they sailed along the coastline, Haig would recognize Thor’s Hammer and come out to meet them.

Another seven or eight days passed. One morning, Haldor led seven or eight men, armed with weapons, to explore the southern hinterlands. Not long after, Olaf heard four or five gunshots from the southern forests. His brow furrowed—he knew his father’s matchlock guns had been fired.

Thinking of the Native Americans and Inuit living on Vinland, Olaf worried that his father’s group might be under attack by the fierce, battle-hardened natives. If not handled carefully, they could all perish at the hands of these primitive warriors.

Olaf quickly returned to the camp and saw Jot shearing a sheep. He approached and whispered, “I just heard gunshots. Uncle Jot, my father and the others must be in trouble. We need to go help them.”

Jot dropped the shears, shouted, and gathered Kadir, Hoskuld, and six or seven others. They left two men to guard the camp and rushed south with their weapons.

Chapter 32: The Black Bear Kills

Olaf and Heiner followed Jot and the others out of the camp, heading south into the dense forest.

They trudged through the uneven terrain, emerging from the woods into a vast valley flanked by towering cliffs on either side. The group gripped their weapons tightly as they ascended higher into the valley. Olaf glanced back, seeing the camp’s forest far below in the distance.

He realized that the farther south they ventured into Vinland, the higher the elevation seemed to rise. Just as he was observing his surroundings, a deafening roar—part animal, part human—echoed from the hill ahead, sending a chill down his spine.

“It’s a bear!” Jot quickened his pace, his voice urgent. “Haldor’s run into a bear!”

Olaf’s heart tightened as he followed Kadir, Jot, and the others up the slope.

The hill was dotted with ash and maple trees. Two smaller black bears lay dead on the ground, their bodies drenched in blood. A massive black bear was still attacking four men, who dodged its swipes desperately. Leading them was Haldor, his group covered in scratches and wounds, blood streaming from their injuries.

Not far off, a man in his forties lay motionless, his head split open, brain matter and blood spattered everywhere. Olaf recognized him—the village carpenter, Ilugi’s father. It seemed Haldor’s group had been ambushed by the bears. Though they had killed two of the smaller ones, one man had already lost his life.

Kadir shouted, and he, Jot, Hoskuld, and five others charged forward, hacking with axes and stabbing with spears. The massive bear held out for a moment, snapping two spears before collapsing under the barrage of blows.

Olaf turned away from the carpenter’s corpse and hurried to Haldor’s side. His father’s left arm was torn open, muscles exposed, blood gushing. Olaf quickly called for Heiner to fetch some wine from the camp, then tore strips from his own clothing to bind the wound.

Most Icelanders knew basic wound care, and Olaf had learned these skills from Haldor himself. However, in this era, people had no concept of sterilization or antiseptics. Wounds were simply bandaged, left to fester, then lanced to drain the pus before being allowed to scab over. Many died from infections during this process.

Of course, if one sought a doctor’s treatment, the methods were even more bizarre—amputations, bird dung, or toxic concoctions that only hastened death.

Olaf knew that wine contained alcohol, which could serve as a crude disinfectant.

Once Heiner returned with a small clay jar—about two gallons of wine—Olaf asked Hoskuld to light a bonfire. He sealed the jar and boiled the wine over the flames, then let it cool before using it to clean Haldor’s wound and those of the other injured men. Afterward, he rebandaged them.

The group then carried the wounded and the three bear carcasses back to camp. Men, women, and children gathered, many wearing expressions of concern.

Haldor, gritting his teeth against the pain, put on a brave face and reassured everyone before retiring to his bed under Katrin’s care.

The three bears were given to the carpenter’s family. His wife and two sons also received most of the newly cleared land as compensation for his death.

Olaf spent some time with his friend Ilugi, trying to comfort him. To his relief, Ilugi harbored no resentment toward him or his father. This eased Olaf’s mind, but it also reminded him of the fragility of life in this era—just as the Middle Ages were ending and the Age of Exploration beginning. Concepts like human rights had yet to emerge, and most people accepted early deaths, illness, and accidental fatalities as inevitable.

The carpenter’s death at the bears’ claws and Haldor’s injuries were tragic, but Ilugi’s family saw Haldor’s generosity in compensating them. They felt grateful rather than bitter, determined to carry on.

With Haldor injured, the camp’s affairs were temporarily managed by Jot, Hoskuld, and Kadir. However, since most of the settlers were from Hrut Village, Jot’s word carried the most weight.

After the bear attack, exploration was put on hold. Instead, the camp focused on clearing land and establishing agriculture and animal husbandry.

Vinland was rich in resources—its rivers teemed with fish, and its forests were dense with vegetation, enough to sustain everyone. Before the first harvest next year, the camp would need to organize its labor force.

Though Haldor was recuperating, Jot still consulted him daily. After ensuring a steady food supply, Jot assigned tasks: some fished, others gathered vines to make ropes, and others quarried stone and timber. The camp began stockpiling fish, dried goods, and other supplies—both to prepare for winter and to expand their settlement.

Day by day, the camp grew more organized. With over a hundred people working together, the houses became sturdier and more numerous.

Olaf, meanwhile, spent most of his time indoors, occasionally checking on his father. The rest of his days were devoted to drafting management guidelines for the camp, with a particular focus on hygiene and healthcare.

The peak of European civilization had been ancient Rome and Greece, where urban sanitation had been far ahead of seventeenth-century France. The Black Death had spread so devastatingly in Europe largely due to poor hygiene—piles of waste and filth littered living areas, contaminating rivers, wells, and groundwater. As a result, Europeans had taken to avoiding baths as a misguided preventive measure.

Icelanders weren’t much better in their hygiene habits, but with sparse populations and vast land, waste wasn’t a major issue. Now, however, with over a hundred people from Hrut Village and others settling in Vinland, garbage was being discarded haphazardly. While the pollution hadn’t yet become severe, Olaf recognized the dangers.

Not only did waste pollute the air and breed insects and bacteria, but untreated excrement could spread disease. The problem wasn’t urgent now, with the weather cooling, but come spring and summer, swarms of insects would pose a serious threat to the camp’s health and productivity.

Olaf planned to leverage the camp’s informal hierarchy, convincing his father, Haldor, to persuade Jot and the other leaders to address these issues proactively. By regulating personal hygiene and waste management, they could prevent future outbreaks and ensure the camp’s long-term prosperity.

Tom and Solrak, who often came to play with Olaf, didn’t yet grasp the deeper implications of his work. But Heiner, as a Scottish noble, immediately recognized its value.

On the surface, Olaf’s proposals seemed aimed at improving living standards and hygiene. In reality, they were a subtle way to consolidate Haldor’s authority. Direct orders might breed resentment over time, but framing regulations as beneficial to the collective would make them more palatable.

Olaf was clearly using these management rules to formalize Haldor’s leadership, ensuring that as the camp grew, its people would remain accustomed to following his commands.

Heiner studied Olaf’s bright blue eyes, realizing that though he was still young, his mind was as sharp as any court official’s. Perhaps Haldor was right—Olaf truly was the reincarnation of their ancestor, Hrut. How else could he possess such innate understanding of governance and human nature?

Chapter 33: Semi-Military Management

Heavy rain poured down on Vinland, the raindrops drumming against the thatched roofs of the huts. Many of the houses had begun to leak, but the people of Haldor’s camp had no time to worry about their own roofs. After three or four days of continuous rain, the lower-lying areas of the camp had already turned into pools of water.

Though they had tried to build their houses on higher ground, some of the shorter structures had already been flooded by the rising water, becoming unstable and on the verge of collapse.

Haldor, recently recovered from his injuries, wore a fur coat as he led Jot, Hoskuld, Kadir, and a group of men and women through the rain, wading through the water to dig drainage channels. Their goal was to divert the stagnant water in the camp to the riverbed to the north.

Olaf, meanwhile, stayed in his large house with Tom and the others, watching over several dozen children. Alongside some of the women, he kept a worried eye on the blurred figures working in the rain outside.

The camp was about three thousand paces from the river—Olaf estimated around two thousand meters. Digging a channel by hand would take at least seven or eight days. However, there was a small stream to the east that flowed north into the river, only seven or eight hundred paces away—no more than six hundred meters.

Haldor and the others split into four teams, digging toward the stream.

They had been working since midnight and had already completed more than half of the channel. Olaf estimated that in another two or three hours, they would break through. Once the water could flow into the stream, the flooding crisis threatening the camp would be temporarily resolved.

After the men returned to their families to rest, Haldor collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Before falling asleep, Katrin, seeing how exhausted her husband was, couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t this too much for you?”

Haldor seemed to have already fallen asleep, but in his slumber, he mumbled, “No matter how hard it is, this is about carving out our own homeland. This is a man’s true calling—” His words trailed off as he began to snore.

Olaf was moved. He understood the unspoken part of his father’s words: Even if we die on this path, it is a death with purpose.

The next morning, the heavy rain that had marked the transition from autumn to winter finally stopped.

After breakfast, Haldor reviewed Olaf’s “Camp Management Manual” once more before gathering Jot, Hoskuld, Kadir, and Heiner. With Hrutik absent, these four men, along with Haldor, now formed the camp’s leadership.

Since the water had not yet fully receded, there was little work to be done in the camp that day, so everyone arrived quickly—within the time it took to burn a single candle.

Katrin poured beer for everyone before sitting quietly to the side, observing.

Olaf sat nearby, while his younger siblings still slept lazily in the inner room.

“Men, I think Olaf’s manual is excellent,” Haldor began. “It’s full of methods for managing our camp, many of which I never would have thought of. I think it’s great, so let’s all take a look. Heiner, why don’t you read it aloud?”

Haldor handed the manual to Heiner, who, already familiar with its contents, began to read in a clear voice:

“A snake without a head cannot move; a people without a leader cannot thrive. An organization must have a structure—leadership, management, and those being managed.

The Haldor Camp has a population of 134 people: 42 adult men, 48 adult women, and 44 children. Vinland is an undeveloped region with abundant resources and unknown dangers, such as black bears and wild men. For the Haldor Camp to develop and secure its place, we must take measures to unite the strength of these 134 people and mobilize them effectively.

First, we must establish a clear leadership system. Only with legitimacy can we ensure long-term development.

Next, we must define roles and responsibilities for everyone, dividing labor and professions, working together, and rewarding contributions accordingly. This is called a planned economy.

Beyond production, we must also manage daily life and implement semi-military training. Life management should focus on hygiene—waste and excrement must not be discarded carelessly, and the sick must be isolated.

Semi-military training means that all men must train for half an hour each day, practicing formations and combat techniques. Additionally, ten elite individuals will be selected to train as musketeers.”

Olaf was neither a feudal bureaucrat nor a modern administrator. He simply wrote down whatever came to mind, so the manual’s content was somewhat disorganized and unrefined.

But to Haldor and the others, it was profound and eye-opening.

Hoskuld pondered for a long time before being the first to voice his approval. The others also realized that the “leadership system” mentioned at the beginning was essentially a way to formally appoint officials, legitimizing their authority over the camp’s residents.

The later sections on hygiene management and semi-military training were ways to tighten control over the camp’s people, ensuring their obedience through structured daily life.

The concept of a “planned economy” was even more formidable—it meant that everyone would work together, and rewards would be distributed based on contributions. This would place the wealth of over a hundred people directly in their hands. If implemented, the Haldor Camp would effectively become the private property of Haldor’s family.

This was even more advanced than the manorial system of centuries past. However, Hoskuld and the others understood that with only a little over a hundred people, facing the harsh primitive environment and the threats of wild beasts and wild men, they could not afford to let everyone develop freely. Without such measures, they might never progress in a hundred years—or worse, they could be wiped out in less than ten.

Hoskuld shared his thoughts, and everyone agreed. After further discussion, they decided to adopt the “Management Manual” as the basis for governing the camp.

The leadership system was established after much deliberation, with Kadir and the others inviting Olaf to participate. They modeled it after the manorial system of centuries past, renaming the Haldor Camp to the Haldor Manor.

Haldor became the lord of the manor, with authority over all its affairs. Jot, Hoskuld, Kadir, and Heiner were appointed as stewards, each responsible for different aspects: hygiene, farming, hunting, fishing, training, and record-keeping. Hrutik, though absent, was named the captain of the guard, overseeing the militia, musketeers, and maintaining order.

In terms of specifics, Haldor and Katrin retained control over the distribution and development of resources such as supplies and farmland.

With their thoughts aligned, they immediately called a general assembly of the entire camp. Before the hundred-plus residents, Haldor announced the camp’s transformation into the Haldor Manor and read out the revised management regulations, clarifying the roles of Jot, Hoskuld, Kadir, Heiner, and Hrutik.

In ancient times, the lord of a manor held ownership and control over the land and resources. Most of Iceland’s free folk had once been serfs or tenants of such lords, granted land and freedom only after long service.

Now, Haldor was reintroducing the manorial system in Vinland, which would effectively make all hundred-plus people in the camp his serfs or tenants. This was something no one could easily accept.

However, as the regulations were read aloud one by one, the people realized that the “manor” was merely a name. In reality, they would remain free folk, with their personal property and wealth untouched. They would be rewarded according to their contributions.

Having just endured the disasters of the black bear attacks and the flooding of their camp, the people of Iceland understood that if they wanted to survive—and to live well—they had to unite closely under Haldor’s leadership.

After a chaotic half-day of discussion, no one found any harm to their personal interests in the new regulations. Instead, they saw that it would benefit the camp’s development and help fulfill Haldor’s promises of land and wealth.

Thus, without a single objection, the Haldor Manor was officially established. The leadership was confirmed, and the manor’s way of life and production was set in stone.

Chapter 34: Haldor Manor

After the establishment of Haldor Manor, Haldor, as the lord of the manor, issued an order. To defend against savages and wild beasts and to ensure the well-being of everyone in the manor, starting tomorrow, each household was to send one man for military training. Additionally, strict hygiene standards were to be enforced. Those who repeatedly failed to comply would be expelled from the manor and left to fend for themselves in Vinland.

The people of Iceland realized that Haldor was serious, so they all obediently complied. The next morning, the men followed Haldor and Kadir for training outside, while the women first disposed of the household waste outside the camp. Then, under Jot’s leadership, along with other men and elders, they twisted tree bark into ropes and wove vines into containers.

Winter was fast approaching, and the previously stored food needed to be properly contained. They had to make enough vessels to adequately prepare and distribute the winter supplies.

The children, apart from helping with household chores, mostly had nothing to do. Olaf gathered two or three dozen young children in his large thatched house, telling stories and playing games.

He spoke of the heroic deeds of the gods, aiming to indoctrinate these children and instill in them a sense of loyalty and righteousness. He wanted them to be devoted to their family and deeply grateful to him, their leader. After all, in a few years, these youngsters would become Olaf’s core followers.

Haldor Manor had forty-four children and adolescents under the age of eighteen. Among them, five were too young, twenty were girls, and nineteen were boys. As the young master of the manor and one of the strongest fighters, Olaf had been the leader of the children back in Iceland.

Now, in Vinland, both Haldor and Olaf’s status had risen sharply. Although the children didn’t fully understand the implications, teenagers like Tom realized the growing disparity in their positions.

Thus, Tom, Halik, Solrak, Ilugi, Hari, and Val—the six children closest to Olaf—were the first to demand that the other children show more respect to Olaf.

However, since they were all farmers’ children and unfamiliar with formalities, they still treated Olaf as their leader among their group of playmates. Even though Olaf was only a little over ten years old, some of the others were already sixteen.

Though young in age, Olaf’s spirit was far from childlike. In his eyes, these two dozen boys and girls were all guileless, their emotions and thoughts transparent. Thus, Olaf always managed to make these children and adolescents who followed him love and adore him even more.

Haldor Manor entered a critical phase in the early winter, focusing on stockpiling food, crafting tools, and training the militia. Olaf, through storytelling and other means, won the hearts of the young children and began to instill in them a sense of loyalty to his family.

While Haldor and Olaf were busy, a large cog ship bearing the flag of a giant hammer sailed across the sea toward the southeastern tip of the eastern peninsula of Vinland Island, approaching the mouth of a small river flowing north.

Hrutik and Hilt, accompanied by two sailors they had found in the camp, set out from the northern side of Vinland. They sailed around the island, continuously searching for Haig’s camp.

“Old teacher, Hrutik, we’ve been out for more than half a month, haven’t we?” Hilt stammered, looking at Hrutik, who was sprawled on the deck, constantly scanning the island.

“It’s been over two weeks,” Hrutik replied, counting on his fingers and nodding.

Since setting sail, Hrutik had carefully examined every possible landing spot, not just the coast of Vinland but also the surrounding larger islands. His relentless search had not yet found Haig, but he had seen many savages.

After more than ten days of arduous searching, Hrutik had become familiar with the terrain and locations of the northern and eastern coastlines of Vinland Island and its surrounding islands. He had begun drawing maps, intending to circumnavigate Vinland along the coastline, whether or not he found Haig’s camp, and then present a basic map to Haldor.

“We must have traveled hundreds of nautical miles by now,” Hilt, who was not good at math, scratched his head and said, “Vinland is too big. Do you think it might be as large as Europe?”

Hrutik shook his head. “No, the largest is America. The rest are just large and small islands. Based on my experience, Vinland is probably about the size of Iceland. But the environment and resources here are much better than Iceland, and there are fewer savages. Along the way, we’ve only seen four places where savages live. They use wood and stone for weapons. I think with our long spears, large axes, firearms, and crossbows, we can quickly conquer this place and colonize Vinland.”

As he spoke, Hrutik grew excited. As a mercenary from Germany, he had heard from his countrymen about the lucrative colonial ventures in the islands of America with the Spanish, where they could control the life and death of the natives. There were many mines there, and the Spanish and Portuguese lords had made their fortunes through mining, sugarcane, and grape cultivation.

Hrutik thought that if he and Haldor could also colonize Vinland, they could follow the example of the Spanish and Portuguese, making a fortune through mining or cultivating sugarcane and grapes. The prospect of becoming a nobleman or a wealthy man was very promising.

The savages Hrutik had encountered were very backward, with a small population living in scattered groups. Some were short and stocky, similar to the natives of Greenland, while others were taller, with long faces and sharp noses, also with yellow skin but with frighteningly red faces.

The primitive lifestyle of these two types of savages and their terrified reactions upon seeing his large ship gave Hrutik great confidence. He believed that when he returned and informed Haldor of the situation, they could gradually enslave these savages, making them cultivate the most valuable crops like grapes and sugarcane, as well as various grains. If there were mines in Vinland, they could also make the savages work in the mines to create wealth for themselves.

After all, to Westerners like Hrutik, the savages of Vinland were no different from livestock.

As Hrutik was lost in his fantasies, the Thor’s Hammer gradually approached the mouth of the not-too-wide river. Hilt suddenly pointed to the left bank of the river and exclaimed, “Old teacher, there’s smoke over there!”

Hrutik turned his head and indeed saw white smoke rising from a forest in the northwest distance on the riverbank. It was clearly the smoke from burning wood.

“Is that a savage tribe or Haig’s camp?”

Muttering to himself, Hrutik turned to fetch his bow and arrows, also strapping on his firelock musket, throwing axes, and long sword, and putting on his leather armor. He left Hilt on the ship and, with the two fully armed sailors, took a raft ashore.

These two sailors were young men from Hrut Village. One had lost both parents to illness and had only an older sister left, while the other had no relatives at all. They had grown up thanks to Haldor’s support. So, when Haldor announced his plan to flee Iceland, they immediately agreed. Later, they became Hrutik’s apprentices, learning to be sailors and combat skills, hoping to make a name for themselves in this primitive land of Vinland.

Once ashore, Hrutik ordered the two to secure the raft, then led them slowly into the forest.

“Savages also know how to shoot arrows, but their bows have short range and little power. Polly, Brun, you must be extra careful. As long as you don’t step into traps or get ambushed, you’ll be fine. If you spot savages, strike first without hesitation.”

Over the past half month, Hrutik had encountered hunters from two savage tribes. Relying on his longbow, he had killed the savages, but he had also experienced the savages’ archery and camouflage skills. Without his years of battle experience, Hrutik felt he might have met an untimely end at the hands of the savages.

Hrutik’s earnest teachings deeply moved the two young men. They solemnly agreed, then widened their eyes, scanning the surrounding trees and bushes, hoping to spot a savage or two to practice their skills.

Chapter 35: Haig

Hrutik and his two companions slowly ventured deeper into the forest. Through the canopy, they could faintly see the white smoke growing larger, signaling their approach to the settlement. Their vigilance heightened several times over.

“Stop,” Hrutik suddenly commanded, his voice low. He had noticed something amiss with the dried branches and fallen leaves beneath a few trees ahead—likely a trap. Polly and Brun halted immediately.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” they asked, their faces tense as they stared at Hrutik.

“There’s a trap up ahead,” Hrutik said, pointing forward. He picked up a stone and hurled it toward the suspicious spot.

The fist-sized rock landed on the dried leaves and rolled forward.

Whoosh!

The ground beneath the leaves collapsed, revealing a pit roughly ten feet wide.

“Wow, there really was a trap!”

Polly and Brun looked at Hrutik with admiration. They hadn’t noticed anything unusual, but Hrutik had uncovered the danger before it could harm them.

Hrutik led the two young men to the edge of the pit and peered down. Inside, several iron spears gleamed with a cold, white light. His expression darkened for a moment before he burst into laughter, pointing toward the smoke rising from the foothills in the distance. “We’ve found Haig’s camp!”

Polly scratched his head, but Brun’s eyes lit up. He pointed at the spears in the pit and said, “Besides Haig’s camp, who else on Vinland would use iron spears for traps? The savages here only use wood and stone for their weapons.”

Polly nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across his face. “Let’s go find Haig quickly!”

Polly and Brun were about ten years younger than Haig. Since childhood, they had heard tales of Haldor and Haig’s adventures—raiding and trading at sea—and had come to admire the two men greatly. After the Saga of the Hrut Clan began to circulate, their admiration for Haig reached its peak. Now, they could barely contain their excitement and were eager to rush toward the foothills.

“Not so fast,” Hrutik cautioned, pulling them back. He spoke in a low voice, “What if these spears were lost during a battle between Haig and the savages? The savages could have taken them and set this trap.”

“But—”

“Haig is a formidable fighter. How could the savages have taken his weapons?”

Hrutik smiled slightly at the two young men’s differing expressions before continuing toward the foothills at a measured pace.

Polly and Brun wanted to say more, but seeing their captain walk away, they suppressed their thoughts and quickly followed.

As they neared the foothills, Hrutik spotted a fortified settlement built halfway up the mountain. The low wooden and stone walls formed a semicircle, standing only as tall as a man. The mountains flanked the walls on either side, and several watchtowers stood atop them—though no one was present now.

Recognizing the familiar bastion-like structure, Hrutik’s tense muscles relaxed slightly. Squinting, he saw several men dressed in animal hides, armed with bows, arrows, and large axes, their skin pale. Only then did he truly set his mind at ease.

“This bastion-like camp built against the foothills must be Haig’s,” he said.

With that, Hrutik took out a signal arrow, carved his name and Haig’s onto the shaft, and fired it toward the camp.

Whoosh!

The arrow landed inside the camp, and suddenly, the sound of drums and shouting erupted from within.

Hrutik and his two companions crouched behind a large rock, peering out cautiously.

After the time it took a candle to burn, the camp’s gates swung open. A group of men clad in leather armor and wielding long spears poured out in disarray. Then, a towering figure emerged—a man in plate armor, gripping a large axe, mounted on a powerful draft horse. Behind him rode another equally imposing man, also in plate armor, clutching a long spear atop a sleeker, mixed-breed horse.

The mounted man rode down from the foothills and reined in his horse on the grassy plain. He scanned the area before shouting, “Hrutik! Hrutik! It’s me, Haig! Are you there?”

Hrutik listened for a moment, then leaped onto the rock, laughing heartily. “Haig! Haig, my brother! It’s me, Hrutik!”

Haig turned on his horse, studying Hrutik for a moment before dismounting with a booming laugh.

Hrutik, accompanied by Polly and Brun, approached Haig. Moments later, the two burly men embraced, then shook hands warmly.

“Brother Hrutik, weren’t you sailing and trading with Haldor? How did you end up in Vinland? Is Haldor with you?”

Haig bore a resemblance to Haldor, but his hair and beard were snow-white and gleaming. His frame was even more massive than Haldor’s, making him seem like a polar bear standing before Hrutik.

Hrutik was already an imposing six feet tall, but next to Haig, he looked like a child.

“Haldor is here too. The entire Hrut Village has moved to Vinland. I came to find you,” Hrutik said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His eye twitched slightly as he looked at the tall, young man behind Haig, noting his handsome, familiar features and brown beard. “Ulf, how have you been?”

Ulf, who had followed his uncle Haig to Vinland, was now a twenty-two-year-old man. Seven and a half years had transformed him from a youth into a mature and handsome young man. In recent years, he had been sailing alone, transporting Vinland’s specialties—bear, deer, and fox pelts—to Scotland, Ireland, and England for trade. The experience had honed him into a brave and capable man, a hero in his own right, rivaling his father’s generation.

“Uncle Hrutik, it’s been nearly two years since we last saw each other. How have you been?” Ulf asked, his handsome features and brown beard distinguishing him from Olaf. He embraced Hrutik and smiled.

“I’m doing well,” Hrutik replied with a nod before introducing Polly and Brun to Haig and Ulf. The group chatted as they made their way back to the camp.

“This place is called Haig’s Fort. There are over five hundred people here—half are white slaves recruited from Scotland and Ireland, and the other half are captured Indians and Inuit. These savages are quite obedient,” Haig explained as they entered the bastion-like gates.

Only after they had settled in Haig’s wooden house, drinking wine, did Hrutik learn of Haig’s experiences over the past seven and a half years.

When Haig first arrived in Vinland, he had brought over a hundred white slaves, Ulf, and four servants. They worked tirelessly to establish a settlement and cultivate the land. During this time, they clashed several times with the tribes the Spanish and Portuguese called “Indians.” Within a year, over thirty white slaves had perished.

However, Haig’s bravery and skill in battle, combined with his firearms and horses, allowed his mounted gunmen to overwhelm the primitive tribes. By the second year, they had conquered an Indian settlement. The tribe, numbering fewer than three hundred, lost over sixty men, and the survivors were taken as slaves to Haig’s camp.

The following year, more than half of the two hundred Indian captives died from disease.

Afterward, Haig remained in Vinland to guard the settlement while sending Ulf to trade goods in Scotland and other places. Through this, he reconnected with Haldor and Hrutik, allowing Haldor to learn that Haig had established a foothold in Vinland.

Over the next few years, Haig gradually took control of the southeastern corner of Vinland, which he named “Turning Point.” He drove out most of the savages and enslaved two to three hundred more, though many perished over time. By this year, fewer than two hundred remained.

Hrutik knew that many of the tales about Haig in the Saga of the Hrut Clan were fabricated, so hearing the true account of Haig’s experiences filled him with admiration. He praised Haig’s courage and abilities loudly.

Polly and Brun, however, found it hard to believe. They rose abruptly, their manners forgotten, and began to question Haig.

“Haig, didn’t you go to the Ming Empire? That powerful and wealthy land of the Khitans?”

“Yes, and you were even given an elephant by an Indian prince, weren’t you?”

“What Khitans? What elephant?” Haig looked utterly confused, his brow furrowed.

Hrutik cleared his throat and said, “Polly, Brun, go with Haig’s men and secure our ship in the nearby river bay. We can’t leave it out at sea.”

After Polly and Brun left, grumbling in frustration, Hrutik explained to Haig in detail how Haldor had been betrayed by Sigfoss and the governor, how Haldor had been persuaded by Olaf to commission Elder Amie to write the Saga of the Hrut Clan, and how Haldor had been ambushed by Ozul, Sigfoss’s relative, only to turn the tables and kill his attackers. He described how Haldor had been sentenced to exile in the glaciers, how they had ambushed the guards to rescue him, and how they had coerced the villagers of Hrut Village to migrate to Vinland.

Hrutik spoke for over half an hour, pausing only to take a sip of wine to quench his thirst.

Haig and Ulf listened in astonishment. They couldn’t believe that in just a few months, Haldor had experienced so much—becoming legendary figures in the saga, with numerous fabricated tales of their exploits. The two men found the situation utterly bizarre.

Chapter 36: Haig’s Fortress

Haig and Ulf had been able to venture to Vinland seven and a half years ago thanks to the guidance of Olaf’s ancestral spirit. Moreover, their swift establishment seven years prior was due to Olaf’s advice to recruit white slaves near Scotland. With a large population, they had managed to withstand the attacks from the Indians and Inuit, ultimately securing a foothold.

Upon hearing from Hrutik about the changes in their family, they learned that it was once again Olaf who had saved the family from a dire situation. This made them even more admiring of Olaf.

Ulf pondered for a moment before whispering, “Uncle, I think we should go find my father and Olaf. Together, we can develop better. With more people, we can rule Vinland. I believe Olaf will help us grow. Maybe we can be ambiguous about the Hrut family’s saga. This might help our family rule Iceland and the people from Scotland, Ireland, and England.”

Haig was stronger and more skilled in combat than Ulf, but his mind wasn’t as sharp as his nephew’s. After frowning in thought for a moment, he nodded and said, “Good. Let’s go find Haldor right away.”

Ulf nodded with a smile, “The entire Turning Point and the surrounding two thousand virgates of land are ours. There are no powerful savage tribes on the entire Ox Head Peninsula. We are the strongest force here. If it weren’t for the lack of people to occupy a large area, we would have unified the peninsula long ago. Now that my father and his people are here, we should go meet them and invite them to join us. Our family can rebuild the Hrut family estate in Vinland, and maybe even establish a country in the future.”

Ulf was young and had broadened his horizons, with ambitions that matched his knowledge and abilities. He had always dreamed of recruiting white slaves from Ireland, Scotland, and other places to support his estate’s expansion, gradually increasing the number of enslaved native savages, and ultimately taking over Vinland to become the leader of a new nation.

Haig knew his nephew had such ambitions and was slowly being swayed by them. After all, the Vikings were among the world’s earliest colonizers. Without Viking colonization, England might not have been born.

As a descendant of the Vikings, Haig also felt that he could try to occupy and develop Vinland, becoming a national leader.

After Haig and Ulf hosted a three-day feast for Hrutik, they took him on a tour of their estate.

Hrutik discovered that Haig’s Fortress had only over two hundred white people, mostly young and middle-aged men, with fewer than twenty women, all of whom were members of white slave families. These white people worked as indentured servants for Haig’s estate, farming and helping with defense, and would only receive land to become freeholders after seven or eight years.

Among them were Irish, but most were Scots. They lived in Haig’s Fortress and held great fear and respect for Haig, Ulf, and their few personal guards.

Outside Haig’s Fortress, there was a camp consisting of a large cave dug into a hillside, housing nearly two hundred Indians and over twenty Inuit.

All of them were slaves of Haig’s Fortress, working in stone quarrying, ditch digging, and food cultivation. They were guarded by four Irish and four Scottish white slave guards.

Every morning, the eight guards would urge the male slaves to work, while children, women, and the elderly remained locked in the stone caves to prevent the native slaves from escaping.

Haig had decreed that if one slave escaped, all slaves in the adjacent caves would be executed.

In the early years, Haig had indeed killed some people after implementing harsh punishments, which terrified the slaves into enduring their situation for the sake of their families. In recent years, aside from deaths caused by disease, the native slaves had made significant contributions to Haig’s Fortress’s farming and husbandry industries. Without the slaves’ continuous logging, farming, and harvesting, the two hundred white slaves alone could not have supported the material needs of a fortress base.

Hrutik was deeply impressed by Haig’s territory and his management of the native slaves. He nodded in approval, praising Haig as an excellent colonizer, and thought that Haldor and he might need to learn from Haig.

Haig, however, laughed and said that if it weren’t for the white slaves risking their lives to figure out how to capture and manage the native slaves, they might have died in Vinland years ago. Therefore, the main task of Haig’s Fortress now was to send a ship to Ireland and Scotland every year to bring back some white slaves to join Haig’s Fortress.

Hrutik stayed in Haig’s Fortress for five days and on the sixth day, he returned to Thor’s Hammer. Haig and Ulf, along with seven or eight others, launched a ship larger than Thor’s Hammer from a large bay on the west side.

The two ships then sailed one after the other downstream, leaving the river named “Muskox River” and entering the sea. Taking advantage of the recent decrease in northwest winds, they slowly sailed along the coastline to the northeast.

Haig and Ulf’s ship was called “Hope,” originally built with the wealth accumulated by Haldor and Haig’s ancestors over several generations. It was a new type of brigantine, larger than “Thor’s Hammer.”

In the age of great navigation, ships were still entirely at the mercy of the wind. Before the advent of steamships, sails were the lifeblood of sea vessels.

When there was no wind assistance, a ship might not travel a nautical mile in an hour.

Now, “Thor’s Hammer” and “Hope” were caught in a slow-moving headwind. After a day, the two ships finally reached the far north of Vinland Island.

Over the years, Haig and Ulf had already circumnavigated Vinland and the surrounding islands and continents, even drawing a rough map. Hrutik compared it with his own maps and completed the sketch of Vinland, realizing that Vinland Island was actually triangular, with a missing piece on the northern side, forming a coastline hundreds of miles long, and then a large island to the northeast.

Haldor and his group’s camp was on the west side of the strait. The environment was not inferior to Haig’s Turning Point, but the Atlantic warm currents and the Arctic cold currents both bypassed the east side hundreds of miles away. If they were to develop and settle here, sailing in and out would be far less convenient than at Turning Point, where the warm and cold currents intersected.

Hrutik was actually shocked after seeing Haig’s map. He had thought that Vinland, not much smaller than Iceland, had much more vast lands on its northern and southern sides than Iceland. This suggested that Vinland was indeed just a large island in the northern part of America.

This discovery startled Hrutik. He felt that if they were to carve out a kingdom under the noses of the Spanish, it would be very dangerous. The greedy Spanish had a powerful fleet, and if they were to take action, they wouldn’t even have a chance to fight back.

Having lived in Vinland for seven and a half years and having dealt with English and French merchants, Haig was well aware of the situation in America. He saw Hrutik’s concern and reassured him, explaining the true state of America.

Now, Europeans knew that America had been a Spanish and Portuguese monopoly for a century, allowing no other nations to share the benefits.

However, due to the repeated failures of the Spanish Armada in invading England over the past twenty years, England and the Netherlands had rapidly risen, and France had also taken the opportunity to breach Spain’s defenses in America. England, France, and the Netherlands had all infiltrated America, reaching out to claim their share.

Even the current Danish King Christian IV had realized that overseas colonization was a means to national strength and a necessary tool for plundering wealth in the age of great navigation. Thus, he had established the Greenland Colonization Company and the East India Company, and forty-five years later, he would establish the West India Colonization Company, occupying St. Thomas, St. John, and St. Croix in the Caribbean, engaging in the slave trade and developing colonial plantations until 1917, when the United States purchased the three islands for twenty-five million dollars.

Although European powers would eventually carve up islands and colonies from Spain and Portugal, it was not until the Netherlands began seizing the Brazilian region in 1624 that countries truly started to take large numbers of colonies, beginning in 1634.

Now, in 1627, whether it was the long-coveted strong nations or financial conglomerates, they were all waiting for an opportunity to enter the most prosperous Central and South America, known in later times as Latin America.

North America currently had only two or three insignificant, self-sustaining outposts established by England and France since the early seventeenth century, which were of little use before 1630, serving at most to collect animal skins for His Majesty.

In other words, North America had not yet discovered gold or silver mines, and its vast terrain was unsuitable for growing sugarcane to produce sugar, making it less profitable than developing Central and South America.

Haig’s appearance in Vinland at this critical juncture was seen by the only two nations interested in North America, France and England, as harmless. A group of Icelanders growing grapes and enslaving savages was a rare good neighbor in the wilderness, so instead of hostility, the armed merchant ships of both countries had bought animal skins from Haig and sold him some grain and cloth.

Currently, Haig’s Fortress maintained occasional trade with Quebec City, established by France at the lower reaches of the St. Lawrence River in eastern Vinland, and New England, established by England four hundred miles south of Vinland Island, providing some precious animal skins to the colonial companies of both places, maintaining a harmonious relationship.

Haig’s Fortress, Quebec City, and New England were later known as the three major bases of North American colonization and were called the “Three Pearls of Civilization in the North American Cultural Wilderness” by most scholars, marking the beginning of the spread of civilization in North America from three sources.

Note: China has many names in various languages, such as Khitans, Qinnai, and Ming, all referring to China.

Chapter 1: Overseas Visitors

November 20, 1627 (Julian Calendar)

More than twenty days had passed since Haldor led the people of Iceland to Vinland. The walls of Haldor Manor were growing taller and sturdier, and the Icelandic-style longhouses within the estate were becoming more numerous and solid.

Haldor and the other leaders trained the men daily and led hunting expeditions, while Jot took the remaining men and women to fish and gather pine nuts, hazelnuts, and other nuts before the harsh winter arrived.

The food Haldor and his group had brought with them to Vinland was limited. If they simply consumed their supplies without replenishing them, even if they ate all their livestock, they would run out of food before winter ended.

Since settling in the waterfall valley named by Haldor, the Icelanders had worked tirelessly to gather food. Apart from daily consumption, the surplus was salted, dried, and stored.

Originally, the children were also expected to contribute to the estate’s labor, but Olaf wanted to teach them. Over the past ten days, the twenty or so children in the estate had been following Olaf, learning Latin and Icelandic script, listening to stories, and playing games.

Neither the children nor the adults like Haldor understood why Olaf spent his days playing with the younger generation. However, Haldor, Jot, Hoskuld, and the others trusted Olaf deeply. After many events, they no longer saw him as a child. Their unanimous opinion was that Olaf must have a deeper purpose, so they let him do as he pleased.

In truth, Olaf did have many plans. He believed that since they had arrived in the Americas during the Age of Exploration, they could not miss the opportunity to colonize the land. While England had not yet focused on colonizing North America, he and his father could work hard for decades to carve out their own territory and establish a nation, leaving their names in history.

For this future endeavor, Haldor Manor needed to continuously recruit Europeans. As the number of white settlers and enslaved natives increased, Olaf believed the best people to help him and his father control the estate were the villagers who had also migrated from Hrut Village.

These children would grow up in less than ten years. By teaching them culture now and indoctrinating them with loyalty, they would become his future followers.

Olaf buried his ambitions deep, using stories of loyalty and team-building activities to slowly unite the children of the estate around him. He planned to have Heiner and Kadir train these children in combat and teach them the knowledge reserved for leaders and nobles, expanding their horizons and raising their potential, laying the foundation for his future control of the estate.

In Europe, inheritance followed the biblical primogeniture system, though some countries allowed daughters to inherit. However, in Iceland and other Nordic regions, only the eldest son inherited, while younger sons received only meager scraps and had to fend for themselves.

Olaf was now cultivating his own loyal followers in case his father’s estate and wealth were passed to his elder brother, Ulf. If he had his own people, he could still carve out his own territory.

If Haldor lived a few more years, by the time Olaf came of age, he was confident his father would support him in establishing new colonies—something that would require manpower.

The children of Haldor Manor were the future core of Olaf’s faction.

Beyond colonizing Vinland and even North America, Olaf also dreamed of, once he had the strength, planning ahead for future European conflicts like the Thirty Years’ War, the Great Northern War, and the Portuguese Restoration War, seizing opportunities to gain advantages. If all went well, he might surpass his father’s achievements in his lifetime.

On the twentieth day, early in the morning, Haldor led Kadir, Hoskuld, and five others on a hunting expedition, leaving Jot and Heiner behind.

That morning, Olaf was telling his twenty or so young followers about how loyal souls could enter Valhalla and ascend to heaven, weaving in stories of loyalty from ancient and modern times. Suddenly, he heard the drum from the watchtower in the distance. His brow furrowed, and he quickly stepped outside.

Western drums did not serve a timekeeping function, so there were no drum towers or clock towers. Instead, drums were used for military purposes, controlling marching speed and serving as warnings.

The drum at Haldor Manor was the only military drum they had brought, placed in the watchtower in case of enemy attacks.

Since the establishment of Haldor Manor, this was the first time the drum had been sounded.

Olaf knew that a few days earlier, his father had returned from a scouting trip and reported that there was an Indian tribe upstream of the waterfall river, about ten miles south of their camp. They had quietly approached and discovered that this was the only nearby tribe of savages, with a population of four to five hundred—far stronger than Haldor Manor.

Since Haldor had brought back this news three days ago, the people in the estate had been on edge, fearing an attack by the savages.

Now, with the drum sounding, both Olaf and the others in the estate assumed the Indian tribe was attacking. Many men, women, and children grabbed their weapons and rushed out.

Kalhu was on watch in the tower. He slid down from the four-man-height tower just as Jot and Heiner, who had been left in charge, approached with a dozen men.

“What’s happening?” Jot asked, his face lined with deep wrinkles from years of wind and sun. He gripped his large axe tightly, his eyes sharp as he looked at Kalhu.

Heiner also held his sword at his waist, his expression solemn. The Icelandic men behind them, though trained, had never experienced real battle, and their faces betrayed their unease.

“I saw two large ships approaching the mouth of the waterfall river,” Kalhu said urgently, pointing toward the northern river mouth beyond the trees. “The first is Thor’s Hammer, and the second is another large ship. Both have stopped at the river’s mouth, and people are already pulling them in with ropes.”

“Oh?” Jot frowned, turning to Heiner. “Hrutik is back. But what’s the ship behind him? Could it be pirates?”

Remembering Hrutik’s mission, Jot’s eyes lit up. “Kalhu, describe the second ship’s captain clearly.”

Kalhu scratched his head and described the second ship as he had seen it.

The more Jot listened, the brighter his eyes grew. Finally, he laughed heartily. “A brigantine—that’s it! That’s Hope, the ship Haldor gave to Haig seven years ago. Now Hope is following Thor’s Hammer here. Hrutik must have found Haig! Quick, Kalhu, ride to Grape Valley and find Haldor!”

Kalhu nodded and rode off.

Jot laughed again, clapping Heiner on the shoulder. “Haig might be coming himself. We should learn from him how to colonize and make a fortune in Vinland.”

Olaf stepped forward and reminded Jot, “Should we send someone to greet them?”

Jot clapped his hands and smiled. “Yes, I’ll go myself. You and Heiner stay in the estate and don’t go out.”

“Heiner, if I don’t fire a signal arrow, it means Hrutik and Haig are indeed returning. If I do, guard the estate well.”

Before leaving, the cautious Jot whispered this reminder to Heiner, then opened the gate and rode toward the two large ships now visible near the northern riverbank.

Chapter 2: The Feast

November 20, 1627, noon

The largest wooden house in Haldor Manor was filled with men and women. At the head of the long table sat Haldor and his wife, Katrin, with Haig and Ulf beside them. Further down were Hrutik, Hoskuld and his wife, Kadir and his wife, Jot and his wife, Heiner and his wife, Kalm, Kalhu, Tom, and others. Essentially, all the high-ranking families of Haldor Manor were present. Olaf and his younger siblings sat at the far end.

An hour earlier, Jot had welcomed Hrutik, Haig, and the others back to the manor. Not long after, Haldor returned as well. After warm embraces and handshakes, everyone entered Haldor’s great hall and sat down, drinking and sharing their experiences.

Katrin led the women in preparing a lavish lunch. They served salted fish and fresh cod, roasted to perfection, along with venison stewed in radishes and grape wine. There were also sheep’s head, lamb chops, and lamb intestines, accompanied by hogweed soup.

As they drank grape wine and enjoyed the feast, the sun began to set.

Olaf had two cups of grape wine—his first time tasting it. The flavor was a mix of sour, sweet, and astringent, nothing extraordinary, but the fruity aroma was rich. He thought the alcohol content was similar to beer, perhaps slightly stronger but not by much.

After the dishes were cleared, Katrin served milk and grape pudding. Everyone praised her cooking before turning to discuss their progress in Vinland.

When the topic of the “Saga of the Hrut Family” came up, Haig looked at Olaf in delight. “Olaf is too clever,” he said. “I’ve heard about this saga from Hrutik. It’s brilliant. If I weren’t Haig myself, I might have believed it too. How does your little head know about the Far East?”

Without hesitation, Olaf replied, “Ever since the spirit of our ancestor Hrut possessed me seven years ago, I’ve had dreams—dreams of distant lands, as if I were living there. The mighty Ming Dynasty and India, I saw them in my dreams. Perhaps it’s the ancestor’s revelation.”

Those present were all Olaf’s kin and Haldor’s trusted confidants. The women had been led away by Katrin to work on clothing, and the men had all witnessed Olaf’s extraordinary knowledge during the rescue of Haldor. Haldor, Haig, Ulf, and the others had even seen the miracle of the ancestor’s manifestation seven and a half years ago. They believed Olaf’s words without doubt, marveling at the ancestor’s guidance.

“I think what Olaf saw is real,” Ulf said after listening to the discussion. “Perhaps the ancestor wants us to colonize the East Indies in the future. But he first told us to colonize Vinland, so maybe we should use Vinland as our base before going further east.”

Haig nodded in agreement. “Ulf is right. I think so too.”

“Then we’ll consider it later,” Haig continued. “You’ve already accepted our family’s epic story. This legendary tale has made you a living legend in Iceland. We were wronged by Sigfoss, and we must return to take revenge. If we have soldiers and weapons, perhaps we can make Iceland independent again.”

Haldor nodded solemnly, looking at his brother with deep sincerity.

Haig’s current achievements were all thanks to his brother Haldor’s support. Combined with their strong bond from childhood, Haldor had always been the decision-maker. Without hesitation, Haig nodded. “Brother, you’re right. I’ll listen to you. We must return to Iceland for revenge. During the duel, it was young Sigfoss who ambushed me, and I killed him in self-defense. I’m innocent, but the Sigfoss family keeps tormenting us. I’ll kill Sigfoss, or I’ll never be at peace.”

Olaf watched his father, uncle, and brother speak with such heroic vigor, a presence far stronger than seven years ago.

Does a man achieve greatness, or does greatness shape the man? Or perhaps, in achieving greatness, a man also shapes himself. These thoughts suddenly flooded Olaf’s mind.

After a moment, Haig looked at Haldor earnestly. “Brother, your place isn’t as good as my Haig Fortress. It’s warmer and safer there. Why don’t you all move to Turning Point?”

Haldor thought for a moment. “But we’ve just cultivated over a virgate of land. I planned to clear five virgates before winter, planting oats and wheat. By next summer, we’ll have a harvest.”

“Father, even a virgate of newly cultivated land will only yield two or three thousand pounds of grain. We have enough food at Turning Point to last until next year. Why not abandon this place for now? When our population grows, we can reclaim it.”

Ulf added, seeing Haldor’s hesitation, “We should all live together. With over six hundred people now, and with these hundred Icelanders, we can recruit more white slaves from Scotland and Ireland, capture more Indian and Inuit slaves. By next summer, we can double our slave numbers. Before autumn, we’ll surely become a manor of over a thousand people.”

“Yes,” Hrutik said, his scarred face twitching with excitement. “Haldor, if we unite, we can take over the Oxhorn Peninsula in a few years.”

Haldor had seen the maps from Hrutik and Haig and knew that the southeastern peninsula of Vinland, shaped like an oxhorn, was called the Oxhorn Peninsula. After a moment’s thought and seeing the enthusiasm of his kin, he nodded. “Alright. While the weather hasn’t turned completely cold, let’s organize everyone to leave by ship. Two ships should be enough to transport all of Haldor Manor—people, livestock, and supplies.”

Haldor was better at thinking and listening than Haig. As the eldest son, he had received traditional Viking education from Iceland, mastering piracy, trade, hunting, fishing, whaling, and farming. Most importantly, he had successfully led White Hazel Forest Hrut Village.

Haig, on the other hand, was a specialist—excelling in piracy and skilled in hunting and whaling, but uninterested in other matters. So, Haldor’s arrival was a relief to Haig.

For over seven years, Haig and Ulf had made decisions together, but as Ulf grew older, he began to influence Haig more. With Haldor in Vinland, Haig felt he could finally step back, leaving colonization to his brother while focusing on war and hunting.

Thus, when Haldor agreed to move to Haig Fortress, Haig was overjoyed and immediately offered to hand over management of the fortress.

In Icelandic tradition, an elder brother bears some responsibility for his unmarried younger brother, which was why Haldor had taken on the burden after Haig’s killing, paying a hefty compensation.

Similarly, Haig’s current achievements in Vinland were built with Haldor’s financial support, manpower, and ships. Their bond was strong, and Haig, being a hero, had no intention of seizing control.

Everyone present found Haig’s decision natural, so Haldor nodded and instructed everyone to inform the freemen of the manor. They were to pack their belongings that night and set sail at dawn the next day, leaving Haldor Manor for Turning Point in southeastern Vinland.

Chapter 3: Relocation and the Harsh Winter

In late November 1627, the entire population of Haldor Manor—over one hundred and thirty people—boarded Thor’s Hammer and Hope, departing Waterfall Valley. Following the coastline of Vinland, they sailed eastward, arriving at Turning Point the following afternoon.

After the bustling relocation, the people of Haldor Manor settled in the central area of Haig Fortress. This inner stronghold, constructed by white slaves and Indian slaves under Haig’s orders, was nearly complete and ready for occupancy—perfect for Haldor and his people.

Most of the one hundred-plus residents moved into the inner fortress, while the remaining few households took up residence in nearby wooden houses. Originally belonging to white slaves, Haig had granted them timber and land to rebuild their own homes, effectively quelling their resentment.

Often, those of the same race were not necessarily kinder to one another than outsiders. The history of white slavery during the Age of Exploration was a bloody one, followed by the relentless exploitation of commoners during the Industrial Revolution. The serfdom in Eastern Europe persisted until the twentieth century.

The white slaves under Haig were those who had no means of survival in their homelands. Now, Haig had given them hope, and they obeyed diligently, working hard without complaint.

For the first two days, Haldor merely observed the situation at Haig Fortress. Even when Haig instructed his servants to report to Haldor and declared that they would follow Haldor’s commands in the future, Haldor refrained from interfering. He simply told everyone to carry on as usual and ordered the people of Haldor Manor to work alongside those of Haig Fortress, continuing his silent observations.

Since the people of Hrut Village were more trusted by Haldor and Haig, a hierarchy soon emerged within Haig Fortress. Naturally, Haldor, Haig, and the other leaders held the highest status.

Next were the Icelanders. The white slaves dared not offend them, and even in disputes, they endured silently. The original stewards of Haig Fortress were servants of the Haldor family, hailing from Hrut Village, so they naturally favored their own kind, handling matters unfairly.

Below the white slaves in status were the true savage slaves.

With just over six hundred people, Haig Fortress had already developed factions and social stratification from its primitive beginnings. Olaf believed this was not conducive to their future development.

The white slaves endured their grievances in silence, though they would not rebel. However, once they gained the status of freemen, their loyalty to the Haldor family might wane.

As for the savage slaves, they were of a different race and culture, utterly unwilling to submit. Before assimilation, they could only be ruled with an iron fist.

Determined to resolve the discord between the white slaves and the Icelanders as soon as possible, Olaf began contemplating methods of governance from ancient and modern times, seeking the best approach for the people of Vinland.

Haldor, Haig, and the other leaders might have noticed the elevated status of the Icelanders, but they welcomed this development. They believed their foundation still lay with the Icelanders, followed by the white slaves.

Under the leadership of the Icelanders at Haig Fortress, the white slaves began daily fishing in the Muskox River and hunting in the surrounding river valleys and forests.

Since Vinland had few medium to large animals like reindeer and black bears, their catches were mostly small game—rabbits, birds, and the like.

The pelts were skinned, dried, and stored, while the meat was salted and preserved.

The southeastern peninsula of Vinland, with its relatively warm climate and developed water systems, supported a variety of wildlife, sufficient to sustain several hundred people.

A few days later, Haldor and Haig discussed and decided to begin constructing a larger town on the plains before Haig Fortress before winter arrived, preparing for future population growth.

Haig naturally agreed with his brother’s decision. Under the direction of the white slaves, the slaves began felling trees and quarrying stone. The white slaves wielded the tools for cutting stone and chopping wood, while the Indian and Inuit slaves were responsible for the heaviest labor—hauling.

The area in front of Haig Fortress was gradually cleared, creating a vast open space. If fully developed, it would surpass Hrut Village in size. Haldor planned to name this future settlement Hrut City.

Haldor and Haig first had the white slaves raise the ground in the center of the square, then construct the largest two-story wooden house, intended to serve as the city’s center and their own manor. After all, improving living conditions was only natural when possible.

Inspired by Haldor’s daily militia training at his manor, Haig began selecting a dozen sturdy white slaves to partially withdraw from production and train with him.

As several light rains fell in succession, Vinland’s weather grew colder. By mid-December, streams began to freeze, and the savage slaves started falling ill, some even dying.

Haig handled these matters with experience, immediately ordering the other slaves to dispose of the sick and dead in a distant valley to prevent the spread of disease or even plague.

Olaf couldn’t bear to witness it and only heard of these events from others.

By late December, a heavy snowfall blanketed the area around Haig Fortress, transforming everything visible into a snowy kingdom.

The slaves and white slaves had already stopped working days before, huddling together in caves and wooden houses for warmth.

Olaf’s family stayed in their wooden house within Haig Fortress, warming themselves by the fireplace. Outside, the world was a frozen wasteland, with temperatures likely around minus ten degrees Celsius. Anyone venturing out would freeze to death in no time.

Thus, everyone in Haig Fortress remained indoors. Families like Haldor’s and Olaf’s, along with other leaders, had firewood and fireplaces, making their stay quite comfortable.

The white slaves, however, had only two sheepskin blankets to keep from freezing. Only when hunger became unbearable would they grit their teeth, rise from their beds, and cook some barley porridge to fill their stomachs.

The slaves in the caves fared even worse. They rarely ate anything substantial, and now their daily meal was a thin porridge of roots, dried fish, and black beans—enough to keep them from starving but far from filling. Without fat to provide warmth, they huddled in the deepest part of the cave, shivering. Every few days, one or two of the elderly or weak would freeze or starve to death.

Yet, the Indian slaves showed no emotion, as if they had grown accustomed to their miserable existence. Whether enslaved by whites or captured in tribal wars, their fate was either death—sometimes as a sacrifice to the gods—or a life of torment as slaves.

The fireplace burned warmly, and Pikku stood before it, stoking the fire with tongs to prevent smoke from billowing back into the room.

Olaf, dressed in a linen undershirt, sat by the stove, sipping milk as he lost himself in thought. His younger siblings napped in the inner room.

His brother Ulf and his father Haldor sat nearby with Haig, Kadir, and Heiner, drinking hot buttered beer and eating smoked meat. Katrin, Kadir’s wife, and his daughter were sewing small clothes for Heiner’s soon-to-be-born child.

In ancient times, with low productivity and technological levels, winter meant staying indoors.

In the Far East, the people of the Ming Dynasty might still venture outside, and even if they fell ill, a physician’s medicine could help them recover. But for Europeans, lacking proper medical care, falling ill in winter often meant death through bloodletting.

For centuries, the Icelandic tradition had been for families and friends to gather in winter, eating, drinking, and playing games indoors to pass the time.

This lifestyle fostered unity and trust among Icelanders.

In Iceland, people would stay indoors for at least five months, but Vinland’s climate was milder. Olaf estimated that by February of the following year, the weather would warm up.

His brother and elders spent their days drinking, chatting, and competing in arm-wrestling and other strength games. Olaf had no interest in these activities. Each day, attended by Pikku, he lived a life of ease, while quietly refining his plans for managing Haig Fortress and its future development. Once satisfied, he would present his ideas to his father and uncles.

Chapter 4: Icelandic Musketeers

Outside Haig Fortress, blanketed in snow and ice, Haldor and Haig personally led a militia of over a hundred Icelanders and white slaves, training in battle formations and martial arts.

Eighty sturdy white slaves wielded long spears in the front ranks, while thirty Icelanders armed with firearms stood in the rear. Haldor and Haig each commanded a unit, with Heiner, Kadir, and others overseeing smaller groups.

This formation was a fusion of the Spanish and Mauricean squares, with musketeers making up slightly more than a quarter of the force. If a small unit of light cavalry were added for flank protection, it would resemble a modernized miniature army.

Haldor had brought twelve firelock muskets to Vinland, two of which were older, bulkier models. Over seven years, Haig had purchased firearms twice, amassing over twenty muskets—enough to arm the thirty Icelandic musketeers with weapons to spare. The remaining firearms were distributed among the leaders, including Haldor.

After enduring the first snowstorm, the Icelanders, gradually adapting to the harsh winter, found Vinland’s climate milder than Iceland’s. Unwilling to spend the winter idly drinking and feasting, Haldor, Haig, and the others reorganized the militia into a force of one hundred and ten men. Thirty Icelandic men aged twenty to forty were selected as the core musketeers, while eighty of the youngest and strongest white slaves were chosen as spearmen. This exhausted their entire stockpile of weapons.

Under Hrutik’s leadership, the militia quickly took shape. Within days, they could march in formation, attack, and retreat on command.

Haldor and Hrutik, veterans of real battles, acknowledged that while this militia fell short of professional mercenary companies, it surpassed the hastily assembled levies of most nations. With a taste of real combat, they believed these men could transform into capable warriors.

“The cold forges the strongest wills,” Haldor declared, watching his militia drill in the snow. He clapped proudly as they practiced their charges and thrusts.

“Next spring, we’ll raid an Inuit village on the northern side of Oxhorn Peninsula and capture more of them,” Haig said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. “The peninsula’s savages are already few—mostly just Inuit now. We’ll sweep the peninsula clean, then head to England for more plate armor, firearms, and spears. Only then can we take on the large Indian tribe rumored to number over a thousand inside the island. We’re outnumbered, so we’ll need proper equipment.”

Haldor nodded. Over the past months, as they idled away their days in drink and revelry, they had already laid out plans for the coming years. Next spring, they would clear Oxhorn Peninsula of its primitives, enslaving some and selling the rest. The plunder, along with this year’s hunting yields, would be shipped to England or even Amsterdam for a good price, funding the purchase of armor, firearms, seeds, and—if funds allowed—horses. With these resources, they would recruit more white slaves from Ireland and Scotland. By the time their two large ships returned, Hrutr Estate’s power would have grown significantly, ready to conquer Vinland’s inner islands.

Since the end of the Middle Ages and the Hundred Years’ War, European military power had surged. The advent of firelock muskets, plate armor, new formations, and advanced naval technology had propelled European nations to the forefront of global military and technological dominance.

Over a century ago, Spain and Portugal had used their superior technology to conquer the two great empires of Latin America, establishing colonies. Southeast Asia and West Africa soon followed, falling under colonial rule. Even the Ming Dynasty had been attacked twice by Portugal, though their armed merchant ships were no match for the Ming navy, forcing them to settle for leasing Macau.

Through countless colonial wars and victories over indigenous governments across the globe, European nations had grown increasingly confident in their invincibility. The Renaissance further bolstered their cultural pride, reinforcing the belief that Europe was the center of world civilization.

While Europeans might still harbor reservations about the distant Eastern giant, they held no such concerns for the indigenous peoples of other continents.

Hrutik and Haldor shared this mindset. They believed that with sufficient firearms and armor, even a few dozen men could annihilate any primitive tribe.

A century ago, just 168 Spanish soldiers had toppled the Inca Empire, which ruled over much of South America. Around the same time, a few hundred Spanish troops had captured the Aztec emperor in Central America, and with the help of some traitorous Indians, they had destroyed the Aztec civilization, beginning their colonization of the region.

These historical examples made it impossible for Haldor and Hrutik to take Vinland’s natives seriously. The indigenous people here lacked even large tribes, let alone nations—how could they stand against civilized men armed with advanced weaponry?

Hrutik, a former mercenary, even mused that if they had faced the Inca or Aztec Empires, they too could have achieved legendary victories with just a hundred men.

The Inuit and Indians crafted primitive bows and arrows—not longbows, and with low draw weights—but they still posed some threat. Haldor believed that even a white slave was a valuable asset, and losses should be minimized. Thus, he planned to purchase plate armor from Europe.

Plate armor, nearly impenetrable even to English longbows, was the pinnacle of cold-steel-era defense. Olaf was convinced that white men armed with firearms and clad in plate armor could crush any cold-steel civilization or primitive people.

To improve the marksmanship of his Icelandic musketeers, Haldor allowed them to practice with lead shot and gunpowder. After expending three crates of ammunition, they could now hit targets reliably within seventy paces.

Most Icelandic men were descendants of Vikings. Though few still practiced the throwing axe and combat skills of their ancestors, many had at least some exposure to them. This Viking heritage gave them a natural aptitude for shooting, making firearms easier to master. Their physical conditioning was also superior to that of the white slaves from labor-stricken regions like Ireland and Scotland.

For Haldor and Haig, the Icelanders were the most trustworthy and easiest to train, forming the core of their elite musketeer force.

Though most white slaves came from Ireland and Scotland, they could still communicate with the Icelanders, and their shared Viking ancestry made them kin.

The white slaves worked hard for years, hoping to earn land and freedom—a better life. They were like the bandits of the Ming Dynasty, fighting for survival. Who would willingly leave their homeland if they could thrive where they were?

Haldor and his men aimed to dominate all of Vinland, becoming its overlords. Though their goals differed, their paths aligned. Colonizing Vinland benefited the white slaves as well, so in Haldor’s plans, they were the backbone of the colony. Only by continuously bringing more Europeans to Vinland could their rule be secured.

As for the Indians and Inuit, Haldor and his men saw them as nothing more than cheap labor and expendable livestock. Their lives held no value, and their deaths were no loss—a view shared by most white men of the time.

Olaf, however, was not so callous. He reasoned that these differences stemmed from cultural and educational disparities, leading to divergent values.

In this era, European nations were constantly at war. The conflicts between nobles, bourgeoisie, commoners, and slaves were stark. Healthcare and education were woefully inadequate, and merely surviving was a luxury. How could anyone afford compassion?

Moreover, European culture was dominated by religion. For centuries, Catholicism had preached the burning and killing of heretics, even organizing Crusades. Plunder and conquest were ingrained in the European psyche. They showed no mercy to the lambs they slaughtered or the enemies they faced.

When everyone was a bandit, preaching universal values was absurd—unless one was a fool.

The so-called human rights and women’s rights of later Western civilization were built upon the blood and tears of the colonized. Europe’s splendor was forged from the suffering of other nations. Only after gorging itself on the blood of others did Europe don its fine clothes and preach morality.

Olaf believed in adapting to one’s environment. Though he couldn’t yet accept the enslavement and slaughter of natives, he wouldn’t interfere. Competition was the law of nature. In this brutal world, one had to fight like a beast to survive.

After all, even among animals, the young competed for milk. The weak grew frailer until they perished.

As adults, they competed for mating rights, food, and leadership. Failure often meant death.

Even in human society, reproductive rights were tied to wealth, resources, appearance, and status. Those who couldn’t compete went hungry or survived on scraps.

Civilization was a luxury pursued only after basic needs were met. Like a fruit-laden plant, it had to take root in dark, damp soil teeming with insects and bacteria. A hanging garden, no matter how beautiful, couldn’t last—its beauty lacked foundation.

Note: The term “Inuit” refers to the indigenous people of the Arctic, known to the Indians as “Eskimos,” meaning “raw meat eaters.” This name stems from their habit of consuming raw meat, a practice linked to the scarcity of fuel in the Arctic and their consumption of raw whale skin and seal meat to supplement vitamins.

Chapter 5: Contemplating the Eight Banners System

Olaf watched with his own eyes as his father, Haldor, his uncle Haig, and his two uncles-in-law, Heiner and Ulf, gathered in the warmth of their home during the cold winter, drinking wine and discussing a series of measures for governing the Hrutr Estate.

Olaf found the discussion immensely enlightening. Though he had been considering similar matters himself, he felt that putting them into practice would be difficult. After all, what he knew was based on the governance principles of other countries, particularly ancient China, which were entirely different from the situation in Vinland.

In a feudal and backward era, the division of people into hierarchical classes was the fundamental basis for maintaining social stability and development.

Olaf believed that his father and the others had effectively structured the governance of Vinland into a three-tiered pyramid, with Icelanders at the top, white slaves in the middle, and savage slaves at the bottom. However, he worried that over time, as their territory expanded, the white slaves might grow dissatisfied. He thought that, when the time came, they could emulate the contemporary Jurchen chieftains of the Far East by “raising the banner” for the white slaves, granting them the status of freemen and the same rights as the Icelanders. Whether they remained slaves or became freemen, they would be more loyal in their service.

This idea led Olaf to consider adapting the Manchu Eight Banners system to create a framework that would uphold their rule. He was still pondering how to adjust it to fit the cultural norms of the Icelanders and other Europeans, making it acceptable and recognizable to all. If he could perfect this system, he was confident he could persuade Haldor to agree.

The Eight Banners system of the Manchus began with two banners, then expanded to four, and eventually eight, evolving as the Jurchen population grew.

Later, when the Mongols and Han Chinese were incorporated, the Mongol Eight Banners and Han Eight Banners were established.

In the early days, the Manchus were civilians when dismounted and soldiers when mounted. Thus, the Eight Banners, which governed all Manchus, became the foundation of the Qing Dynasty—the apex of the pyramid. Below them were the Mongol and Han Eight Banners, followed by the Green Standard Army and other Han collaborator forces. When the Manchus transitioned from a military organization to rulers, they began to rely on Han officials, though the Eight Banners system was not abolished—it simply lost its combat effectiveness over time.

Olaf’s knowledge of Qing history was limited, but he knew one thing: even in the mid to late Qing period, when the Eight Banners had fallen behind and their soldiers had lost their fighting spirit, the system still maintained strong control over its subjects.

The establishment of multiple levels of master-servant relationships—between banner lords and banner men, masters and slaves, armored soldiers and bondservants—unified the Eight Banners as a whole. In times of scarcity and barbarism, this system could unleash formidable combat power because the masters held absolute authority over their slaves, and the slaves had no choice but to serve their masters wholeheartedly.

One could say that the Eight Banners system was designed to cultivate slaves.

After experiencing the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, Europeans—except in Eastern Europe—had largely abolished serfdom. Traditional slavery had virtually disappeared, replaced by contractual slavery or indentured servitude, where personal property rights were respected.

Thus, it would be difficult for freedom-loving Europeans and their culture to accept a system where whites or even white slaves willingly became the slaves of banner lords, armored soldiers, or bondservants.

The success of the Eight Banners system lay in the fact that the Jurchens initially assimilated other Jurchen and Mongol tribes with similar cultures. Later, they conquered Korea, which had been enslaved by the Two Classes for centuries, and the captives accepted their fate as slaves.

After entering the Central Plains, the policy of “shaving heads and changing clothes,” along with widespread massacres, eliminated most of the righteous and culturally aware Han Chinese. The remaining were ignorant commoners, culturally crippled scholars, and cunning individuals who, under the education that mutilated their culture, eventually accepted the rule of the Qing court.

Olaf felt that if he were to adopt the Eight Banners system, it would likely face resistance due to cultural incompatibility. However, by changing its name, giving it a different facade, and making some adjustments, it might still work.

From December 1627 to January 1628, Olaf began researching how to adapt the Eight Banners system to Icelandic or Vinlandic culture. Meanwhile, Haldor and the others conducted outdoor drills every other day, training the 110 militia members.

“Excellence comes from diligence, neglect from frivolity.”

This ancient Chinese saying held true. While others remained inactive during the winter, the militia of the Hrutr Estate trained diligently. Haldor rewarded each militia family with a smoked fish daily, and the vast stores of grain, dried meat, and dried fish in Haig Fortress were rapidly being consumed.

Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik firmly believed that with such substantial investment, by spring, the 100-plus militia members would become an invincible force capable of crushing the natives.

To motivate the white slave spearmen and Icelandic musketeers, Haldor promised that those who performed exceptionally in training and battles against the natives would be rewarded with native slaves, money, land, or even the status of freemen.

Currently, within the entire Hrutr Estate, aside from the leaders and managers, no one—whether Icelander or otherwise—was a freeman. Thus, the prospect of becoming a freeman was highly appealing.

Under Haldor’s leadership, the brave Icelanders eagerly anticipated the conquest and enslavement of the natives. The white slaves under Haig’s command held the natives in even greater contempt. In terms of morale, the militia of the Hrutr Estate rivaled that of German mercenaries, much to the satisfaction of their commander, Hrutik.

On January 10th, after a warm meal of salted fish and oatmeal porridge, Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and the other leaders set out with 110 militia members from Haig Fortress, marching deep into the interior of the northern peninsula to practice forced marches, building endurance and discipline. Olaf had wanted to join them, but Haldor, considering the difficulty of traveling in the snow, left Olaf behind with Ulf to watch over the estate.

Once outside Haig Fortress, the promise of land, slaves, and freeman status as rewards seemed to transform the 110 militia members into seasoned veterans. Even after marching eight or nine miles through the snow, feeling utterly exhausted, no one asked to rest.

Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik rode on horseback, while Heiner, Hoskuld, and Kadir followed alongside the troops, also training themselves.

Hoskuld felt as though he could barely breathe, and seeing the formation on the left stretch and deform, he knew everyone was nearing their limit. He approached Hrutik and whispered, “Hrutik, we should rest. If we keep going, someone might collapse.”

Hrutik, who had once led his mercenary unit to march twelve miles without rest, now saw the militia struggling after less than nine miles, their faces flushed and breath ragged. He frowned, then remembered the difficulty of marching in snow and nodded. He loudly ordered the troops to halt and rest, taking a sip of wine to quench their thirst.

The Icelandic musketeers took out their small ceramic flasks from their pockets, unstoppered them, and drank a few mouthfuls of watered-down wine.

The white slaves had no such luxury and could only scoop up handfuls of snow to chew on for hydration.

Hrutik intended to let the militia rest for the time it took to burn a candle, so he allowed them to move freely.

Many white slave spearmen and Icelandic musketeers wandered off to relieve themselves behind distant trees.

Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik dismounted and walked over to Hoskuld, chatting as they waited. Suddenly, they heard a gunshot in the distance, followed by an Icelander’s loud shout: “Chief Haldor! Commander Hrutik! We’re under attack!”

Haldor and the others hurriedly called the militia to assemble and rushed toward the source of the sound.

Chapter 6: The Deer Hunters

Nearly a hundred men, armed with long spears and firearms, climbed up a hillside. They spotted three Icelandic musketeers hiding behind a large rock, their firelock muskets at the ready. Beside them in the snow was a bone arrow made from a whalebone, clearly fired by the Inuit.

Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik, who had ridden up last, looked ahead and saw an Inuit hunter lying under a pine tree, dressed in sealskin. The bloodstains suggested he had been shot and managed to crawl a few more steps before collapsing.

Three more Inuit hunters quickly emerged from behind other boulders, dragging the wounded man down the slope.

Haig felt the cold wind blowing from behind and realized the four Inuit had appeared downwind to hunt reindeer. He spurred his horse forward, saying, “These are Inuit hunters from their tribe who killed them.”

Haldor and Hrutik followed on horseback, quickly catching up to the Inuit still struggling through the snow.

The three hunters, hearing the heavy hoofbeats behind them, panicked and abandoned their wounded companion, scattering in different directions.

No one could outrun a horse. Haig’s mount was the fastest, and in an instant, he caught up, swinging his large axe to decapitate one of the hunters.

Hrutik and Haldor were not to be outdone—one skewered a hunter with his long spear, while the other hurled a throwing axe, striking another in the back.

The three fleeing hunters were dead in an instant.

The militia, watching from below, cheered loudly as they witnessed their leaders and captains effortlessly slay the three Inuit hunters.

Haldor and the others were pleased. They ordered the sealskins stripped from the four hunters before returning to Haig Fortress.

Sealskin was a valuable commodity. Though the Inuit crafted it into clothing, their workmanship was crude. The skins could be disassembled and remade into hats, vests, waistcoats, and jackets. Four sets of sealskin could fetch several dozen silver shillings.

By the time they returned to Haig Fortress, it was dusk. The militia took their salted fish home for dinner, while Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, Heiner, Kadir, and the others gathered at Haldor’s house to drink and feast.

Olaf and Ulf saw the fur coats their father had tossed by the door and knew he must have encountered Inuit.

“Father, did you run into Inuit?” Ulf asked, taking his father’s coat.

“Four Inuit hunters crossed our path,” Haldor replied casually.

“I, Hrutik, and my brother easily killed three of them. That kid Hrutik has decent aim—he took one down right at the start,” Haig boasted, in high spirits.

As they sat around the wooden table, Katrin poured them each a cup of beer before heading to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Hrutik took a sip of his drink and turned to Haig. “Are there many hunters in the Inuit tribes?”

“All adult males are hunters, but winter makes hunting more difficult than other seasons. They might only succeed once in three attempts. According to the Inuit slaves, they often go hungry in winter,” Haig replied offhandedly.

Olaf, sitting by the fireplace, glanced at Pikku and asked, “Is that true?”

Pikku, who had learned some Icelandic, thought for a moment before answering, “Yes, young master. In winter, the rivers freeze, making fishing difficult. We usually hunt reindeer and walruses, but the beasts are more alert in winter. We think the ice and snow amplify sounds, so we hide downwind to ambush them. Sometimes that doesn’t work, and we have to rely on traps.”

Olaf nodded. Ulf had told him that no more than two or three hundred Inuit remained on the Oxhorn Peninsula, living in small groups of ten to twenty. As long as they didn’t unite, a few dozen white slave spearmen and a dozen Icelandic musketeers could conquer them all.

It was winter, and the Inuit had even less contact with each other. Struggling against the harsh weather, they focused on survival, with many men hunting daily. If they eliminated a few Inuit hunters each day, the peninsula’s Inuit might vanish before spring.

Olaf was startled by the grim thought that crossed his mind. Have I been influenced by my brother, father, and uncles? Why am I thinking about how to destroy or weaken other tribes? Have I become ruthless and cold-hearted?

Haldor, Hrutik, and the others had already considered what Olaf was thinking. Over drinks, they decided that future training exercises would focus more on the northern regions. Any Inuit hunters they encountered would be killed on the spot. This winter would weaken the Inuit tribes while also serving as military training.

“Father, the Inuit’s short bows don’t have the range of our firelock muskets, and we outnumber them. It’s easy to deal with them, but we must be careful of their traps. They’re skilled hunters, and their traps are hard to detect. If someone steps into one, they’re as good as dead,” Ulf warned, recalling a white slave boy who had died a few years ago after stepping into a trap and being impaled by a wooden spike.

“That’s right,” Haig agreed, still shaken. “A few years ago, when we didn’t know about their traps, several white slaves died. The Inuit’s greatest skills are setting traps and training hunting dogs.”

Having lived in Vinland for nearly eight years, Haig had dealt with the Inuit many times. He had even attempted trade with them initially and knew them well. He had no respect for the Indians but admitted the Inuit’s traps were ingenious, and their hunting dogs were intelligent and obedient. Haig Fortress now had a pack of hunting dogs, descendants of puppies Haig had taken from an Inuit tribe. They were sometimes brought along on hunts.

“I heard Monsieur Champlain of Quebec say that smallpox has killed more than half of the Indians in Central America. There are far fewer Indians in the northern parts of America, but the London Virginia Company in the south sent smallpox-infected blankets to the Pequot tribe, causing heavy casualties,” Ulf said coldly. “The southern English are making fortunes much faster than we are or Quebec.”

“They have the support of their nations behind them. We’re just individuals—we must be cautious,” Haldor warned his son, fearing he was becoming too ambitious. “Our family has a strong foundation. Our ancestors worked for three generations to earn the title of ‘Grey Cloak Jarl’ and gain control of the Hrut Estate on the Seltjarnarnes Peninsula. Your father and I will create an even better foundation for you, Olaf, and Half. If you and your descendants manage it well, perhaps in three generations, we could establish a nation in Vinland. Don’t rush—some methods aren’t suitable for us.”

Hrutik nodded. “Whether we establish a nation or carve out our own territory in Vinland, once we control it and wealth appears, Denmark, England, or even France won’t tolerate us. They might try to annex us. That’s why we need a strong army. Your father and I will train elite soldiers over the next decade to protect our wealth.”

Chapter 7: Spring

After Haldor and the others had finished their business in his longhouse, Katrin had also prepared dinner—buttered lamb chops and boiled fox.

The fox had been shot by Hrutik in the wild two days prior. Since he had no family, he always ate at Haldor’s house and had given the fox to Katrin.

By the next afternoon, snowflakes had begun to drift down from the sky again.

The snow fell for two days, and once it cleared, Haldor and the others resumed leading the militia north for training while also clearing the wilderness of any animals and savages they encountered.

Time passed day by day, and before they knew it, it was the end of February 1628.

After more than two months of intense training, the militia of Hrutr Estate had undergone a remarkable transformation. Not only had they grown stronger, but their eyes had also taken on a fierce and ruthless glint. In that time, they had killed over fifty reindeer, two black bears, and twenty-three Inuit hunters.

Though the core force consisted of Icelandic firearms, the white slave spearmen had also all seen blood. This psychological transition, combined with twenty rounds of wilderness training, had turned them into true soldiers.

Hrutik was still somewhat dissatisfied, but Haldor was pleased. He believed that even if their victories had been easy, relying on superior numbers and weapons to crush beasts and savages, it had bolstered the militia’s confidence. They would only grow braver in the future.

The weather gradually warmed, and the ice and snow on the ground melted away day by day.

When Olaf woke up that morning and pushed open the window, he saw that except for the shadows cast by the house and the rocks and trees, there was no trace of snow left outside.

Vinland was located where the eastern coasts of what would later become the United States and Canada met, belonging to Canada. Its latitude was roughly the same as the Later Jin of the Ming Dynasty, and the temperatures were similar.

Though spring was approaching, the temperature still hovered around freezing.

After being cooped up in the longhouse for two months, Olaf took his younger siblings out to play after breakfast.

Haldor had also left early that morning with the militia. They were no longer heading north because the warming weather and the high number of hunter deaths had caused the northern Inuit tribes to consolidate and move in large groups. Haldor’s forces were not in a position to engage them directly.

Today, Jot, Kadir, and Heiner had all stayed behind at Haig Fortress. With the weather warming, they were preparing to continue leading the remaining white slaves and savage slaves in the construction of Hrut City outside the fortress.

After leaving, Haldor and his men headed south, carrying bottles and jars to collect seawater for boiling into salt.

Icelanders typically relied on salt purchased from England, as England produced both sea salt and well salt. Sometimes, coastal areas would also boil their own seawater for salt, but since Iceland had few trees and insufficient fuel, only wealthy chieftains and merchants with large herds and pastures could afford to burn animal dung as fuel to sustain salt production. They would then sell the salt within the island.

The salt Haldor’s group had brought to Vinland was nearly depleted. Over the past seven years, Haig and his men had been boiling their own salt because Vinland’s abundant vegetation provided plenty of fuel. They never wasted silver on purchasing salt, instead using cheap slave labor to produce it.

The southeastern coast of Vinland was warmed by the Atlantic current, so the sea never froze. Haldor’s group did not need to bring ice-breaking tools as they followed the Muskox River south to the mouth of the sea, where they collected water before returning to the estate together.

Inside Haig Fortress, Olaf was wandering around with his younger siblings when he ran into Lixstrom, Halik, Solrak, and Ilugi, who had also come outside.

It had been two months since they had last seen each other, and the group greeted Olaf with handshakes and hugs before gathering around him to chat.

“Olaf, you’ve gotten fatter and taller,” red-haired Tom said in surprise, looking at Olaf, who had been only as tall as his eyebrows the year before but was now nearly his height.

The other boys only then realized that Olaf had unknowingly grown to be one of the taller youths among them. Remembering that Olaf was only eleven years old, and that Haldor, Haig, and Ulf were all rare giants, they looked at him with envy.

“Maybe in a couple of years, you’ll be as tall as your brother Ulf,” Solrak said with a laugh. “Then, except for that big oaf Halik, we’ll all have to look up to you.”

Olaf was about to respond when he suddenly heard several sharp cracks of a whip from outside Haig Fortress, followed by a mix of Scottish and Icelandic voices.

“Stupid fools, move faster!”

“It’s the white slaves urging the savages to work,” Tom blurted out. His father was currently supervising the construction site outside the fortress, and he was sure the white slaves were being harsh to impress him.

Olaf led the boys to the open gate to look outside.

The two young white slave guards quickly raised their hands to stop them, speaking in awkward, stumbling Icelandic: “Please, Young Master Olaf and the others, do not go out. The master has ordered that the elderly and children are not to leave the castle.”

Olaf glanced at the two thin white slave youths, who were only eighteen or nineteen and seemed inexperienced. They were clearly nervous, their freckled faces trembling as they saw Olaf approaching with a group of Icelandic boys.

Yet they remembered their duty and bravely stood their ground. Olaf felt a liking for them and nodded. “We’ll just watch the slaves building Hrut City from here. Can you open the door a little so we can see? I promise we won’t go out.”

Perhaps because Olaf’s request was reasonable, or perhaps because his tone was gentle and his manner approachable, the two white slave youths gradually relaxed.

They exchanged a glance, then gritted their teeth and said, “Alright, Young Master Olaf. If you’re just going to look from the doorway, we can’t very well refuse.”

With that, the two boys pulled back the bolt and slowly opened the left wooden door just enough to see the outside.

Olaf and the others stood at the doorway, peering out. They saw hundreds of massive logs piled on the flat ground below Haig Fortress, with over twenty white slaves sitting on the timber, sawing and shaping the wood.

To the east of the logs was a pile of stones of various shapes. Dozens of gaunt savages, under the watchful eyes of white slaves wielding whips, were struggling to push the stones on small logs. After pushing them a short distance, they would move the empty log to the front and push again, using the rolling motion to reduce friction and move the stones, which weighed tens of thousands of pounds.

Olaf counted and realized there were only a little over a hundred savage slaves on the construction site, far fewer than the over two hundred there had been two months ago.

“Why are there fewer savage slaves?” Olaf asked the two white slave youths beside him.

The red-haired one hurriedly replied, “I heard this winter was colder than before, so more savages froze or died of illness. It seems over thirty slaves died in the caves, and another twenty or so are too sick to work.”

Olaf looked at the emaciated slaves, their familiar yellow skin making his heart ache. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “What are the symptoms of their illness?”

The white slave youth shook his head. “I don’t know. Everyone’s afraid of being cursed by the savages’ demons, so no one dares go near them.”

Olaf knew that the white people of Europe still believed diseases were curses or possessions by demons, which was why many unconventional and punitive “treatments” existed. After a moment’s thought, he waved to Jot, who was far off on the construction site, and called out loudly.

“Uncle Jot! Uncle Jot!”

Chapter 8: Boiling Salt

Olaf shouted loudly, summoning Jot, who was overseeing the workers. Jot frowned as he looked at the group of children before him, snorting coldly. “What are you all running around for? Go home!”

The boys were startled and looked to Olaf. Olaf waved his hand. “You all go ahead. I need to talk to Uncle Jot.”

With the eldest brother’s word, the boys left together, and Half and Gerny were taken away by Tom and the others to play.

Only after the boys had left did Jot curiously ask, “Olaf, what’s the matter?”

“Uncle Jot, I want to know about the savages in the cave behind the mountain,” Olaf asked seriously.

“Why are you asking about that?” Jot furrowed his brow slightly. He had intended to brush him off casually, but remembering Olaf’s unusual maturity and wisdom, he sighed softly and pulled him into the shelter of a wall out of the wind. Lowering his voice, he said, “Thirty-six have died this winter, mostly the old, the young, and women. There are still twenty-eight sick, and they probably won’t make it. Tomorrow, if those patients don’t improve, they’ll be driven out of the cave to fend for themselves.”

“That won’t do,” Olaf frowned. “Driving the sick out in this season is just sending them to die in the wilderness.”

“But if we keep the sick in the cave, the disease will spread to the healthy savages, and eventually, it might even spread to the white slaves and us. We can’t take that risk,” Jot was cautious, explaining in a grave tone.

Olaf knew Jot was right, but he couldn’t bear to ignore the natives’ lives. After a moment’s thought, he asked quietly, “Can you tell me about the symptoms of those savages?”

Jot thought for a moment and said, “It should be a cold. Drinking some hot grape juice would help, but we don’t have much of our own. How can we waste it on the natives?”

Olaf tried to suggest, “Can I go take a look? Maybe I have a way to help these sick slaves recover faster.”

Jot firmly shook his head in refusal. “Impossible. It’s too dangerous there. If your father finds out I let you go to such a place, he’ll kill me. And you shouldn’t go either.”

Olaf asked again, but seeing Jot’s resolute attitude, he could only shrug and give up, saying, “If they have a cold, I think there are still some ways.”

“What ways?” Jot was also concerned about the slaves’ health, not only because slaves were like livestock, like wealth, but also because he was worried the natives might spread the disease to the white slaves and the Icelanders.

Olaf didn’t know what kind of cold these natives had, but he didn’t know how to treat it. However, he knew some auxiliary treatment methods. So, he invoked the name of his teacher, Elder Amie, and under the pretense of teaching new treatment methods from the church, he told Jot what he knew.

“Uncle Jot, Elder Amie says that in Rome, when people have a cold, they drink hot water continuously, keep the air circulating, and eat some nutritious porridge. Over time, they get better. If they don’t, then not even God can save them.”

After saying this, Olaf turned and went home. He had told all he knew. Whether it would help those natives, he didn’t know. He could only hope they would recover soon.

After Olaf left, Jot turned and walked toward the construction site outside. Several white slaves saw Lord Jot coming and hurriedly bowed and scraped. Jot casually called one over and, following Olaf’s suggestion, gave orders. He also instructed them to ensure the supply of a pot of black bean and barley porridge daily for the savage slaves. With that, Jot put the sick slaves out of his mind and focused on the construction of Hrut City.

By midday, Haldor led the militia back to Haig Fortress. The white slave militia carried all the seawater clay pots back to their homes, handing them over to families with women to boil sea salt. Haldor had already promised that after the salt was boiled, these families would be given a portion of the sea salt first. Moreover, the firewood for boiling salt could be taken from the fortress’s warehouse. This good news made every family very enthusiastic, and from the afternoon onward, they began boiling sea salt day and night.

Sea salt was the solid crystals left after boiling seawater. Although mostly sodium chloride, it also contained impurities and harmful substances from the sea. However, the seawater at this time had no industrial waste, and the seawater in the northern Atlantic was cleaner. So, whether it was the seawater from Vinland or Iceland, the sea salt produced was basically healthy.

Salt was a necessity for human survival. Even if it was toxic, people had to eat it to survive. Moreover, people at this time didn’t understand the composition of sea salt; they only knew that boiling seawater could produce sea salt.

Olaf, having nothing to do, took his younger siblings and Pikku to watch the sea salt boiling. He found that they first boiled the seawater into brine, then poured all the thick brine into a clay pot to boil, finally obtaining some white salt crystals.

Ten clay pots held about fifty to sixty gallons of seawater, but after boiling, they could only get less than ten spoonfuls of salt grains. Olaf thought this efficiency was too low. When summer came, he could try opening a salt field to sun-dry salt. If successful, not only could he use it himself, but he could also sell it as a commodity. After all, sun-drying salt had almost no cost, and whatever was sold was profit. At worst, it could be sold cheaper than other salts. Wouldn’t that ensure sales?

Sun-drying salt was something most Europeans had never encountered or even heard of, but Olaf had seen it with his own eyes in his previous life. He thought it was really worth trying in the summer.

From late February to mid-March 1628, over nearly twenty days, Haldor led the militia to the seaside more than ten times, bringing back two thousand pots of seawater. In the end, they consumed a small mountain of firewood and boiled less than ten pounds of sea salt.

Haldor first took out one pound to distribute to the ten or so white slave families who had boiled the salt. Then he took out six pounds as a reward for the white slave long spears and Icelandic musketeers for their months of hard training.

He kept two pounds in reserve and divided the rest among Jot, Hrutik, Kadir, Hoskuld, and others.

The salt crisis at Hrutr Estate was temporarily resolved. Both the Icelanders and the white slaves were overjoyed, praising Lord Haldor as a great benefactor.

Now, salt was nearly ten times cheaper than it had been hundreds of years ago. After all, hundreds of years ago, salt had been as rare as spices, silver, and gold, and could be used directly as currency in commerce.

Salt was still not a cheap seasoning. Ordinary people could only buy it from the church, and the price was still thirty to forty times that of grain. Ordinary families only used salt when curing meat or eating meat, and they were usually reluctant to use much.

Now that Haldor had rewarded everyone with salt, it was like bestowing wealth, an expensive necessity for life. Since early winter, the white slaves’ mouths had been as bland as birds’. If it weren’t for the salted fish they received during training, their strength wouldn’t have kept up with the training.

Now that everyone had salt, they were all overjoyed and grateful to Haldor.

The Icelanders, influenced by the white slaves’ emotions, also held Haldor in even higher esteem.

Generous and magnanimous, Haldor was indeed a rare hero among the current lords of the manor and chiefs. Even in Iceland, he was very popular.

Chapter 9: Beaver Pelts

As mid-March arrived, the weather grew warmer. Though nights and mornings remained chilly, the midday sun compelled people to shed a layer of their winter garments. Many trees—maples, birches, and hazels—once bare in autumn and winter, now sprouted tender buds. In less than a month, the land would burst into a fragrant spring, alive with birdsong and blossoms.

The rivers thawed, and small creatures and beasts emerged, their movements signaling the rebirth of nature. The sight filled the heart with joy.

After nearly twenty more native slaves had perished, the survivors adjusted to their conditions. Most of the sick gradually recovered, their health and strength restored by improved food and the warming weather. They could now endure the daily toil, however grueling.

With the arrival of spring, Olaf could no longer restrain himself. He resumed teaching the young men the ancestral crafts passed down through generations.

For close combat, they trained with swords, axes, and long spears. At medium range, they practiced precision strikes with throwing axes and javelins. Archery, however, was not a Viking specialty—only a few had mastered it, and Olaf, lacking skill in it himself, abandoned the practice. He believed firearms would soon replace bows entirely.

Ulf and Haig occasionally guided Olaf and the others in martial training, but most days, Olaf taught alone. The young men understood that their future depended on mastering these skills—whether for conquering Vinland or distant lands. They practiced diligently, and within days, their movements grew fluid and precise.

Since farming season had not yet begun, Jot continued overseeing the white slaves and native laborers in the construction of Hrut City. Outside Haig Fortress, the sound of hammers and saws filled the air as buildings rose.

Haldor, Haig, Ulf, and others led the militia, now transformed into a hunting party. They scoured the waterways for beavers, killing any they found and bringing the carcasses back to the estate. There, they carefully scraped away fat and flesh from the pelts before drying them. The meat was divided among the hunters.

While hunting beavers, they also targeted marten, squirrels, black bears, reindeer, and the massive white wolves unique to Vinland. Upon spotting any of these creatures, they fired their guns and arrows in unison, ensuring a hit. Then, they approached with deer-hide-wrapped clubs to finish off the wounded beasts, preserving the pelts as intact as possible.

Spring was the peak season for animals with valuable fur—emerging to forage, mate, and recover from winter starvation. Their coats, thickened by the cold, were at their most luxurious. Late winter and early spring were the best times to hunt and skin them.

Haldor led the militia out each morning, then divided them into six smaller teams, each led by himself, Haig, Hrutik, Kadir, Hoskuld, or Heiner. They scattered to hunt.

Every evening, they returned to Haig Fortress with seven to ten small or medium-sized animals—mostly beavers, river otters, white wolves, and foxes. Reindeer were rare; these migratory creatures seemed to have retreated to Vinland’s inner islands. Black bears, apex predators, were already nearly extinct on the peninsula after seven or eight had been killed.

For eight years, Haig had built his fortune in Vinland on the backs of beavers, river otters, seals, and other creatures with prized pelts.

In Europe and Asia, rare furs from northern animals—marten, beavers, river otters, and sea lions—were hunted to supply the nobility. In the Ming Dynasty’s northeast, such furs were reserved for emperors and high-ranking officials. Even the wealthiest commoners were forbidden from owning or wearing them.

Similarly, in Europe, beaver and fox pelts from the northern forests were sold to the elite, especially in the wealthy Mediterranean nations.

Since the early Middle Ages, Scandinavians had traded furs with Eastern, Central, and Western Europe. Their migration south from the Scandinavian Peninsula was driven by the desire to control trade routes and secure better trading grounds.

The French and English colonization of North America was, in truth, a hunt for beaver and river otter pelts. Centuries of overhunting in Northern Europe had nearly wiped out these animals, making their furs scarce.

Across the Atlantic, however, North America’s cold regions teemed with beavers. The French and English, eager for profit, began sending merchants in the early 17th century to establish trade posts, hunt pelts themselves, and buy from the natives. These furs were then sold to European nobility.

As for exporting to other nations, both France and England were still in the early stages of colonization. Their populations and resources were insufficient to supply Europe with large quantities of beaver pelts. But within fifty to a hundred years, as their colonies expanded—especially France’s—the fur trade would become a cornerstone of their economies, replacing Northern European furs and dominating the European market.

Newfoundland’s cod fisheries were another product, but in the 17th century, with limited productivity, the impact on Europe was minimal. Only a few tons of fish were supplied annually.

The French Quebec region and the English New England area each had only a few hundred settlers—far fewer than Vinland. Weak in both population and strength, they sought alliances with Haig’s colonists. This was partly to purchase beaver pelts but also to unite the scattered white settlers against the natives, ensuring the indigenous people respected their strength and unity.

If France and England’s colonies remained weak—or weaker than Vinland—their friendship with Haig might endure. But if their power grew to surpass Vinland’s, they would never tolerate a rival on their doorstep.

Haldor and Haig did not yet grasp this reality, but Olaf had long been wary. He had repeatedly warned his father and uncle to remain vigilant toward the nearby English and French colonies. In little over a century, the Anglo-French wars would erupt across North America, fueled by colonial rivalry. History was a lesson they could not ignore.

Behind Haig Fortress, a cave had been expanded into a storage room. Inside, stacks of precious pelts grew daily. A rough count revealed hundreds of hides—280 beaver pelts, over 200 river otter pelts, and another 200 marten pelts. The rest were far less valuable. These had been accumulated since autumn, and Haig estimated that selling them would yield at least ten thousand silver marks—enough to buy three large ships.

Haldor’s ancestors had farmed and herded in Iceland for decades without amassing such wealth. Yet in Vinland, in less than a year, they had acquired assets worth ten thousand silver marks. The realization filled them with joy and motivation.

Olaf, upon learning this, was stunned. He now understood why Europeans of this era were so eager to plunder. Colonization and theft required no investment or production—only the seizure of others’ labor to amass wealth. It was quick, easy, and lucrative. Who wouldn’t be tempted?

Chapter 10: Opportunity

On the morning of March 17th, Haldor gathered Haig, Hrutik, and six or seven others at home to discuss how to sell the furs stored in the warehouse.

Hoskuld, Kadir, and Heiner, unfamiliar with the situation, remained silent. Haig scratched his head and said, “Brother, following our usual practice, by June, merchant ships traveling between Quebec City and Le Havre in France will come to buy our furs. I used to sell half to them and take the remaining half to England and Amsterdam. Since we’re not a state-backed colonial company, our strength can’t compare to Quebec’s, so we have to give the French half. Fortunately, Champlain is decent enough—he only offers us a price one-third lower than the market rate.”

“Why not go to Lisbon? The Portuguese and Spanish are the richest,” Haldor asked.

Haig’s expression darkened as he shook his head. “We went four years ago, but it didn’t go well. Spain and Portugal are now one country, both devout Catholic nations. Lisbon is chaotic, and as soon as we opened our mouths, we were met with hostility—after all, we northerners are Protestants. We didn’t know any of the local power players there, so even the best pelts couldn’t fetch a good price that year.”

“Hmph, the Spanish are too arrogant. No wonder they were defeated by England—serves them right,” Hoskuld slammed the table and cursed.

“Ulf, Olaf, what do you think? Should we stick to tradition or make a change?” Haldor felt no need to give the French any favors but hesitated and wanted to hear his two sons’ opinions.

Ulf thought for a moment and said, “Father, Mr. Champlain in Quebec City is a good man with considerable influence in France. I think it’s necessary for us to maintain a good relationship with him. After all, we’re criminals in Iceland and outlaws in Denmark. With France’s help, we might gain a higher status in the future.”

Haldor was moved by these words and nodded, ready to agree. But remembering his second son’s extraordinary wisdom and foresight, he restrained himself to hear what Olaf had to say.

Olaf agreed with Ulf’s point—maintaining good relations with France was indeed beneficial from their perspective. However, Europe was currently embroiled in what could be called the first pan-European war, the “Thirty Years’ War.” The outcome of this conflict would determine the future standing of the Holy Roman Empire and the Spanish Empire’s Catholic alliance against the Protestant Union, comprising France, England, Denmark, Sweden, the Netherlands, and others. Every participating nation was going all out, committing money, resources, and manpower.

The Thirty Years’ War had been raging since 1618. By 1625, King Christian IV of Denmark, persuaded by France and backed by England, France, and the Netherlands, had personally led an invasion into northern Germany, achieving a series of victories and occupying the entire northwestern region.

Now, in 1628, the tide had turned. In August of the previous year, at the Battle of Lutter, King Christian IV had been defeated by the forces of the Holy Roman Empire, forcing him into a humiliating retreat that severely weakened his forces. As a result, the territories he had captured in 1627 and 1628 were gradually being reclaimed by the Holy Roman Empire. The southern shore of the Baltic Sea was nearly lost, and if it weren’t for the Holy Roman Empire’s commander, Wallenstein, lacking ports and a navy, he would have already marched on Copenhagen.

Olaf, who was well-versed in the Thirty Years’ War, clearly remembered that King Christian IV had relied on Sweden to repel Wallenstein’s advance. Then, in May of the following year, 1629, he would sign a treaty with Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand II, completely abandoning any involvement in German affairs and allowing Catholicism to revive within his kingdom.

The result of King Christian IV’s involvement in the Thirty Years’ War was a complete disaster—losing both his army and his reputation across Europe, and utterly failing to curb the rise of Sweden, the “Lion of the North.” Under King Christian IV’s decades-long rule, Denmark had gradually declined into a second-rate European power. This was why Olaf paid no heed to Denmark and dared to dream of returning to Europe to secure Iceland’s independence.

France emerged as the greatest victor of the Thirty Years’ War. The hopes for German unification and a powerful Holy Roman Empire vanished with their defeat, and the Bourbon dynasty completely overshadowed the Habsburgs, becoming the most powerful dynasty in Europe.

Olaf understood the immense benefits of maintaining good relations with France. France had no ambitions in the Nordic region, but the war wouldn’t end until 1648. At least until 1643, when the Prince of Condé crushed the Spanish army, France wouldn’t have the capacity to send naval and land forces to North America. During the Thirty Years’ War, both England and France relied on criminals and white slaves to develop their territories.

Olaf believed that the fifteen years between 1628 and 1643 were a golden period for his family’s development in North America. Once the European war ended, the colonial efforts would intensify, and by then, if his family still sought territorial claims in North America, France and England would likely be unwilling to accommodate them.

Olaf couldn’t directly tell his father, uncles, and brothers about the history of the Thirty Years’ War, but after some thought, he decided to use Elder Amie as a pretext to convince them.

“Actually, last year in Big Port, when I bid farewell to Elder Amie, he told me that according to his sources, King Christian IV had already suffered consecutive defeats last year. Meanwhile, France and England are deeply involved in the war against Austria. I think this presents an opportunity for us,” Olaf said, his eyes growing brighter as he stood up and looked at Haldor and the others.

Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and the others couldn’t fathom what opportunity Olaf was talking about, especially the news of King Christian IV’s consecutive defeats, which they found hard to believe. After all, the last news they had received before leaving Iceland was that King Christian IV had already occupied northern Germany.

Kadir urgently asked, “Olaf, did Elder Amie say how King Christian was defeated?”

Olaf pretended to think before replying, “I heard him say that the Emperor of Austria hired General Wallenstein to defeat King Christian.”

“Is it Albrecht von Wallenstein, the Duke of Friedland who suppressed the Bohemian rebellion?” Hrutik suddenly furrowed his brow and asked.

Olaf nodded. “That’s right, it’s him.”

“Oh, if it’s him, then it’s very likely true. I’ve heard of this man—he’s a military genius. The thirty to forty thousand mercenaries under his command are all battle-hardened veterans,” Hrutik said with a wary expression.

“Even if Denmark is defeated, what good does that do us? How is this an opportunity?” Haig asked in confusion.

Heiner suddenly smiled and asked, “Olaf, are you saying that even with England and France involved, the Holy Roman Empire won’t be defeated?”

Olaf nodded. “That’s right. Spain and the Holy Roman Empire combined have the power to change the European situation. Now that Denmark has been defeated, the north can only rely on Sweden, but impoverished Sweden doesn’t have enough strength. Even with French and English support, they might not be a match. Without a strong northern force to restrain the Holy Roman Empire, France won’t dare to act rashly, fearing a two-pronged attack from Spain and Austria. England, being overseas, won’t fully commit either. So, I think either the Protestant Union can’t win, or this war will drag on for another decade.”

“You’re right,” Heiner nodded and said softly, “If the pan-European war drags on for another decade, we won’t have to worry about the French and English colonial companies in Vinland. After all, our strength surpasses theirs. I think that even if we’re given another ten or eight years, we can occupy Vinland and the western continent. By then, we won’t have to worry about the French and English colonial companies anymore.”

“Are you saying that England and France are too busy with the West Indies, so we can accelerate our expansion and colonization?” Ulf said, growing excited. “Yes, as long as France and England don’t send large numbers of troops, armed merchant ships, and warships, we don’t have to pay them any mind. We can sell all the pelts to the Dutch, quickly recruit white slaves, and expand our territory.”

Ulf’s words livened up the meeting, and everyone began discussing how to accelerate their development.

Since everyone believed what Olaf said, they were convinced that Vinland would have eight to ten years of uninterrupted development. If they didn’t seize this opportunity to expand, it would be a shame.

Chapter 11: The Decision

Inside Haldor’s longhouse, the crowd chattered away, their opinions gradually converging. Everyone agreed to abandon selling beaver pelts to the French this year, opting instead to transport all their furs to Europe.

“Haldor, what do you think?” Haig chuckled, seeking his brother’s opinion.

“But we’re far away in Vinland, West Indies,” Haldor mused, raising a sharp concern. “If we want to grow our population, military, and fleet, we’ve already angered Denmark. If we offend France and England too, how will we find shipyards to build large vessels?”

Ulf and Kadir fell silent, while Olaf furrowed his brow before smoothing it out again.

Heiner let out a hearty laugh. “The Dutch are nothing but profit-driven merchants. As long as the price is right, they’ll build ships for us—and theirs are the best in the world.”

Olaf added, “Northern Europe is locked in a struggle between Denmark and Sweden for dominance. With Denmark’s defeat, Sweden will surely take up the Protestant cause against the Holy Roman Empire. Europe is heading for endless war. The Netherlands, as a rising small nation, will seize the opportunity to grow its economy. If we have the money, Amsterdam will take any order we place.”

The Dutch Republic, known as the “Seven United Provinces,” was small in land but dense in population. Dubbed the “carriage of the sea,” the Netherlands was the sole maritime hegemon of the 17th century. Even as England rose in the mid-to-late 17th century, it remained the Netherlands’ junior partner at sea. Had France not invaded and seized Amsterdam, the Dutch might have become the arbiters of European affairs. Alas, the “Sun King” ultimately dominated Europe.

Thus, when Olaf and Heiner proposed purchasing ships from the Netherlands, Haldor and the others quickly agreed. Though the Netherlands was still a second-tier nation, Dutch merchant ships already plied the world’s oceans. Dutch merchants were renowned for their business integrity and quality, earning the European proverb: “Doing business with the Dutch is the safest.”

Little did they know that in a few years, the Dutch navy would emerge in force, marking the beginning of their global dominance. By mid-century, of the twenty thousand ships sailing the world, fifteen thousand would fly the Dutch red, white, and blue tricolor.

“That settles it,” Haldor declared after surveying the room and seeing unanimous approval. “We won’t sell our furs to the French anymore.”

Haig narrowed his eyes, his voice cold. “If we had a nation backing us, I wouldn’t hesitate to stop losing money to the French. This year, even if we have to sell everything we own, we’ll buy two armed merchant ships.”

Jot nodded in agreement. “Armed merchant ships can protect the Thor’s Hammer and the Hope, safeguard Vinland, and carry more cargo. It’s a good plan.”

Ulf chimed in, “Every spring and summer, French and English ships fish for cod east and south of Turning Point. They even dry and salt cod on the shores of Nova Scotia, across the Cabot Strait from us. By autumn, they return to Europe with holds full of dried cod, each shipment worth two thousand pounds. That cod is our wealth—they’re stealing from us. With armed merchant ships, we can drive those fishing boats away.”

Haldor and the others wholeheartedly agreed.

Previously, they had feared offending England and France and lacked the strength to monopolize Vinland and its surrounding resources. But now, with both nations embroiled in a pan-European war, it was clear that no state power would intervene in Vinland until the war’s end. This window of opportunity was their chance to rapidly expand their influence. Seizing wealth and monopolizing resources was the first step.

Haldor still worried about potential shifts in the European conflict. He turned to Ulf and instructed, “The warm southeasterly winds are growing stronger. With the Gulf Stream, it’ll take less than half a month to reach Ireland. I think you, Hrutik, and Haig should take the furs, wine, and salted cod back to Europe. First, gather intelligence on the pan-European war. Second, selling the goods early will give us time to clear inventory. If things go as we expect, head straight to the Netherlands to buy ships, then return with white slaves and military supplies.”

“Understood,” they all replied in unison.

“To prepare more goods, I’ll personally lead a team to fish for cod and make salted fish. Hrutik, you and Haig continue hunting beavers. We must save enough to build ships, buy firearms, plate armor, and even cannons.”

“Prepare for another month. You can set off at the end of April.”

After the meeting, Hrutr Estate shifted into high gear. Each day, the Icelanders, white slaves, and savage slaves divided their labor—constructing houses, quarrying stone and timber, fishing, and hunting.

Olaf continued his daily training of the young Icelanders on the estate. These twenty-odd youths would become his future core followers. Once they matured into seasoned soldiers, Olaf planned to select young white slaves as their subordinates. Of course, this depended on Olaf having the funds to purchase white slaves, as Haldor controlled the estate’s white slaves, and Olaf had no authority to claim them.

Olaf wasn’t particularly talented in his past life, so making a fortune now wasn’t easy. However, he had spent some time as a child living with his uncle in the countryside, where he had helped cultivate crops like corn and squash. Thus, he was confident in his ability to grow the “Three Sisters”—corn, squash, and beans—commonly cultivated by the Indians.

These Indian crops had already spread to Europe and even Asia, but large-scale cultivation wouldn’t begin for another two hundred years.

Corn could supplement rye and wheat, squash contained sugar, and beans were edible, protein-rich, and could be pressed for oil. If developed properly, these three crops could form the foundation of their livelihood.

Moreover, Olaf hadn’t been idle during the winter. He had racked his brains to identify primitive products from early North America and Canada. Beyond rare furs like beaver pelts, there were two future cash crops that the French hadn’t discovered yet—maple sugar and American ginseng. The eastern and northern regions of Quebec, with their high elevations, had a climate and environment similar to the Changbai Mountains, producing American ginseng, a cousin to the wild ginseng of Northeast China.

The demand for ginseng in the Far Eastern Celestial Empire had always been high, but with the Later Jin controlling its supply, future sales would be restricted. Apart from Korea, which produced some, ginseng was becoming increasingly rare, driving prices ever higher.

Olaf reasoned that bringing American ginseng to the Far East would be an immensely profitable venture.

He thought of maple sugar because, in later centuries, the Canadian flag would feature a maple leaf. The southern and eastern regions of Canada were home to vast maple forests. The sap from these trees could be boiled down into maple syrup and maple sugar, said to have medicinal value and priced far higher than white sugar—twenty to thirty times more.

Currently, Europe’s luxury consumables were spices and sugar. Vinland’s climate wasn’t suitable for sugarcane, but it had plenty of maple trees. Producing maple sugar would be a highly lucrative business.

Olaf knew that American ginseng offered the greatest profits, but neither he nor the entire Hrutr family currently had the means to pursue it. They lacked ships capable of reaching the Far East and the strength to venture there.

However, cultivating crops like corn could be prioritized, though it required significant labor. Olaf could only suggest this to his father, while his own path to wealth would have to focus on maple sugar.

Chapter 12: Olaf’s First Pot of Gold

To earn his first pot of gold and gain the means to do what he wanted, Olaf first sought out Haldor, Hrutik, Ulf, and Haig, convincing each of them to join him on a journey to Europe to broaden their horizons.

The Icelanders, descendants of the Vikings, were accustomed to letting their children train from a young age, even allowing them to accompany their elders on fishing and raiding expeditions. They believed that even young lions and eagles must learn to hunt.

Thus, though Olaf was only eleven years old, his maturity and the Icelandic way of life led everyone to agree to his request.

Knowing that the voyage would begin in less than a month, Olaf quickly gathered his most loyal companions—red-haired Tom, Solrak, Halik, Ilugi, Val, and Eriksson—and, with Pikku in tow, they gathered some tools before seeking out Heiner to explain their plans.

Heiner, who was inventorying supplies at Haig Fortress, glanced at the assortment of tools the group had brought and, without asking for details, assigned four white slaves to accompany and protect Olaf.

With eleven followers, Olaf left Haig Fortress and found five towering red maple trees nearby. Gazing up at the towering trunks, Olaf nodded in satisfaction before instructing the four white slaves to stand guard. He then led the boys to one of the trees.

“Watch closely,” he said.

Olaf first used a small axe to make a notch in the trunk, then ordered Pikku and Halik to use a short spear and hammer to carve a hole about a palm’s depth into the tree. When a faint trickle of sap began to seep out, Olaf dipped his finger in it, tasted it, and confirmed its slight sweetness. He then inserted a small wooden stick into the hole and placed a bucket beneath it. Soon, a thin stream of liquid flowed down the stick and dripped into the bucket with a soft sound.

“This one’s done,” Olaf chuckled, looking at the massive tree that would take three people to encircle. “Follow this method and carve four more holes in this tree. Once it’s done, do the same to the other four trees.”

Val, Eriksson, and Ilugi, being the tallest, used their axes to cut through the tough bark, while Pikku and Halik hammered and carved the holes. Solrak and Tom positioned the buckets to catch the sap.

With clear division of labor, they quickly carved holes in all five maple trees and set up buckets to collect the sap.

Olaf praised them before pointing to the other black and red maples in the distance. “Halik, Pikku, and Val, go back and bring more buckets. We’ll find more big trees and collect their sap.”

The three agreed and hurried off. Soon, Pikku returned with over a dozen Icelandic boys, each carrying buckets and basins, followed by Heiner and Jot.

“What are you doing?” Jot asked, frowning as he watched the sap dripping from the holes in the maple trees.

Olaf lowered his voice. “I’m using the sap from these maples to make something special. Don’t tell anyone.”

Jot nodded, while Heiner smiled faintly. The two then stood by, watching as Olaf directed the boys to carve holes in the maples and collect the sap.

Maple trees convert their nutrients into starch for storage in May and June. Only in the spring months of March and April does the sap contain sugar, and it can only be collected from morning until dusk. Outside these times, the sap stops flowing.

Olaf didn’t know this, but by sheer luck, he had come out to collect sap in the morning of March. By noon, nearly thirty to forty large trees near Hrutr Estate had been tapped for their sap.

At noon, everyone returned home for lunch. When the afternoon grew colder, Olaf led the Icelandic boys back to collect the buckets. It took three trips to bring all the buckets back.

Olaf kept Tom, Halik, and four others behind, instructing them to gather firewood.

Hidden in the kitchen behind the house, Olaf lit a fire and had Pikku place a large clay pot over it. He then sent Half and Solrak to fetch two buckets of sap.

Olaf slowly poured the sap into the pot. When it began to bubble and boil, he said, “Bring in the remaining fifty or sixty buckets of sap.”

Soon, the small room was filled with buckets. Olaf stood by the fire, waiting a long time until the liquid in the pot had reduced to a thin layer. He then had Pikku remove the pot with a wooden frame and used a wooden spatula to scrape the thick, sticky substance from the bottom, carefully collecting it.

The small wooden spatula held a golden, honey-like substance that smelled sweet with a hint of floral fragrance. Olaf blew on it, took a small bite, and found it tasted like non-sticky malt sugar, yet also like thickened honey—sweet, smooth, and delicious. It was the best dessert he had ever tasted in this life.

“Perfect,” Olaf exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. Seeing Half, Halik, and the others staring at him eagerly, he handed them the spatula. “You can try some too, but don’t tell anyone.”

The boys happily took turns tasting the maple sugar, finishing it in moments.

With the first batch of maple sugar successfully made, Olaf’s confidence soared. He estimated that one pot used nearly two gallons of sap but yielded less than half a pint of syrup. If he boiled it into a solid, the amount would be even less.

After some thought, Olaf decided to keep it in liquid form. This way, he could market it as a special floral honey. After all, the most expensive sugar in Europe at the time was white sugar from the East, while the black sugar produced by Spain in Central America was not as valuable as honey.

Olaf had Pikku continue boiling the sap while the others gathered more firewood. Only when night fell did he let Tom, Halik, and the others return home.

Each time a batch of maple syrup was ready, Olaf personally scraped it into another prepared clay pot. By nightfall, he had boiled four batches, using eight buckets of sap, and his pot was nearly full of syrup.

Katrin then sent Half to call Olaf for dinner. After finishing the current batch with Pikku, Olaf extinguished the fire and went to eat.

When he entered the living room, he found everyone had already finished eating and rested. The table still held warm oatmeal and fried cod. He told Pikku to sit and eat with him.

Trained in etiquette by Heiner, Pikku waved his hands. “I wouldn’t dare, young master. You eat first, and I’ll eat after.”

Olaf smiled. “Everyone’s asleep. No one will mind. You’re my servant—are you going to disobey me? Sit down and eat with me.”

Olaf’s insistence moved Pikku, who sat down. After finishing their meal, Pikku took the dishes to wash.

Olaf stretched and went to his room to rest.

Pikku lived in a small room near the door. Accustomed to life with Olaf, he lay in bed, savoring the memory of the golden syrup Olaf had let him taste. He could swear it was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten—the sweetness and warmth were unlike anything he had ever experienced.

To Pikku, Olaf, who respected and cared for him, was his best friend. In his heart, Olaf was like a brother. After tasting the maple syrup, Pikku was even more touched. He knew from the reactions of Tom and the other boys that syrup was a luxury, yet Olaf had shared it with him. Pikku was now certain that his young master truly treated him like family.

Chapter 13: Royal Jelly

Early the next morning, Olaf woke up, ate breakfast, and left Pikku at home to continue boiling the syrup. He then put on his linen clothes, a lambskin coat, cowhide boots, and a felt hat before heading out.

Today, Olaf decided to have Pikku stay home and boil the tree sap they had collected the day before, while he took the Icelandic boys further inland to gather more maple sap.

Since hunting parties ventured deep into the north every day, even leaving the peninsula to hunt beavers in the heart of Vinland, the Oxhorn Peninsula, long inhabited only by white people, was quite safe.

After a word with Jot, Olaf recruited two more strong and brave white slaves to join him. Then, with twenty or so boys carrying wooden buckets, short spears, and axes, they left Haig Fortress and headed north into the forest.

Vinland had remained unchanged for thousands of years. The trees here were ancient and towering, though truly massive maples numbered only a few hundred. Smaller trees that could still yield sap were around a hundred. Olaf tapped the sap from over a dozen maples on the northern side of Haig Fortress that day. He estimated that within half a month, all the maples on the peninsula would be fully utilized.

At noon, the two white slaves cooked smoked fish in clay pots, and everyone shared fish soup. Olaf also ate a piece of fish.

By afternoon, they began collecting the buckets one by one. Almost every bucket was a third or a quarter full of sap.

Olaf roughly calculated that today’s harvest was nearly double yesterday’s. Delighted, he led everyone back to Haig Fortress, carefully carrying the buckets.

Upon returning home, the two white slaves and the boys placed the buckets in Olaf’s backyard before leaving.

Pikku emerged from the back kitchen, his face and head covered in wood ash, looking utterly disheveled. Olaf patted him down, nearly bringing Pikku to tears.

“Pikku, how much syrup did you boil today?”

Pikku was terrible at math. After much thought, he held up his fingers and said, “One and a half jars.”

Olaf nodded in approval. “Not bad. A jar must weigh about twenty pounds. Did you use up all of yesterday’s sap?”

“There’s still… six more jars to go.” Pikku counted on his fingers again.

Olaf then pointed to the yard full of buckets and said, “First, pour it into the large jars. When the large jars are full, use the small ones. Once you’re done, go rest. I’ll take over.”

Pikku agreed and began lifting the buckets to pour the sap into the large ceramic jars inside.

The day before, Olaf had taken twenty large clay jars from the warehouse, each capable of holding several dozen gallons, along with over thirty smaller five-gallon jars. These jars were leftovers from Haig’s winemaking days, and Olaf had repurposed them.

Olaf stood guard over the pot, stirring occasionally. After half a day, he poured the syrup from the bottom of the pot into a half-filled jar, then refilled the pot with fresh sap and continued boiling.

“Young master, I’ve poured all the sap. You go rest. I’ll take over,” Pikku said after finishing the task. Without waiting for a break, he rushed to Olaf’s side.

Olaf patted Pikku, who was nearly as tall as him, on the shoulder and smiled. “You’ve been working all day. Sit down and rest for a bit.”

“I’m not tired, young master,” Pikku said, eyes wide.

Olaf smiled and handed him the wooden spatula. “Finish this pot, then rest. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

With that, Olaf left. He realized that as the maple sap increased, Pikku alone wouldn’t be able to keep up, no matter how hard he worked. So, he decided to ask his mother to recruit his aunts and other relatives to help. He could always share some of the sugar with them.

Katrin, who was cooking porridge, was taken aback when Olaf mentioned making sugar. She turned to him and asked softly, “Are you sure the liquid you gave us can be boiled into a sweet syrup like honey?”

“Of course,” Olaf said, spreading his hands. “This secret is known only to me. I plan to make money with this sugar-making method and then develop other crops and livestock in Vinland. I only trust you and my two aunts. If you help me make sugar, I can give you ten percent of the syrup. What do you say?”

Katrin agreed without hesitation. She immediately followed Olaf to the back kitchen to see Pikku boiling the syrup. After Olaf explained the process and how much syrup a jar of sap would yield, Katrin nodded and said, “Leave it to me. Tomorrow, I’ll have your two aunts, your cousin Vanhild, Jot’s family, Anni, and Weideme help you boil the sugar. They’re all reliable. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

With the help secured, Olaf was overjoyed. He even ate an extra piece of black bread at dinner. That night, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, his stomach churning with acid.

After a restless half-night, he finally fell into a deep sleep. The next morning, he was abruptly awakened by Pikku shaking him.

“What are you doing?” Olaf snapped, frowning as he squinted at Pikku.

It was the first time Olaf had ever been angry, and Pikku’s face paled in shock. He quickly bowed and said, “Young master, your friends are all here. They’re waiting for you to come down.”

Olaf sat up abruptly and asked, “Did I wake up late today?”

Pikku muttered, “You usually finish breakfast by now.”

“Oh,” Olaf hurriedly got out of bed, dressing as he walked out.

“I’ll get you a hot towel,” Pikku said, quickly fetching a towel from the basin by the fireplace, wringing it out, and handing it to Olaf.

Olaf wiped his hands and face, then picked up the cold water on the table to rinse his mouth before heading out.

Tom and the others were waiting in the yard. When they saw Olaf, they greeted him with a cheer.

“Olaf, why are you sleeping in?” Halik asked with a grin.

“It’s nothing. I just didn’t sleep well last night,” Olaf smiled, instructing Pikku to bring some bread and dried meat. Then, he led the boys to Jot to borrow two horse-drawn carriages. The twenty-three of them rode in the two large carriages, heading further north in search of new maple trees.

Actually, the maples from the day before and the day before that could still yield some sap if new holes were drilled, but the amount would be much less. Olaf knew that the maples on the peninsula alone were enough for him to exploit, so he wasn’t interested in trees that had already been tapped.

From that day on, Olaf roamed the Oxhorn Peninsula, searching for tall maples and tapping them for sap.

Katrin also found Olaf’s two aunts, his cousin, and her friends. Everyone took the maple sap home and boiled it according to the proportions and times Katrin had specified. By evening, when Olaf returned home, he was delighted to see six jars of maple syrup. He loudly praised his mother Katrin for her efficiency.

Katrin smiled and said, “It was all done before afternoon. There are still two and a half jars here.”

“Many hands make light work,” Olaf marveled. “Today’s yield is about the same as yesterday’s. Take your time.”

Haldor had come home early that day and had already tasted the syrup Olaf had made. Though he had always had high hopes for Olaf, he hadn’t expected Olaf to keep surprising him. Haldor walked out of the room and asked, “Son, I asked your Uncle Jot and Heiner. They said you’ve been collecting maple sap every day. Is the syrup your mother boiled made from maple sap? It’s as sweet as honey. If you sell it, it would be a great product.”

“Yes, Father,” Olaf didn’t dare deceive his father, so he explained, “Maple sap contains sugar, but very little. It has to be boiled down to get the syrup. It tastes almost as sweet as honey but has a different flavor. I want to make it and take it with my uncles and brothers to sell in Holland for money, then use that money to buy some white slaves. What do you think?”

“You can spend your own money however you like,” Haldor said, reaching out to ruffle Olaf’s hair with a smile. “My son is so clever.”

Haldor didn’t ask how Olaf knew maple sap could be made into sugar. He had already decided that Olaf was a genius possessed by ancestral spirits, a miracle sent by their ancestors to revive the family. So, he was simply happy.

Olaf could sense that his family treated him differently from other children. He knew this was due to his mature mindset, his knowledge beyond ordinary people, and the fact that they believed he was possessed by ancestral spirits. The most important factor was that they were convinced of the ancestral possession.

In a Europe where religious culture was dominant, almost no one was free from superstition. While Iceland worshipped Jesus, it still retained traditional Nordic ancestor worship and primitive religious customs. Olaf had taken advantage of this to elevate himself to a status nearly equal to Haldor’s.

Olaf smiled slightly but didn’t speak. Haldor asked another question: “What’s the name of this syrup?”

“I’ve decided to call it Royal Jelly.”

Chapter 14: The First Trade Voyage

Royal Jelly—Olaf’s cleverly chosen name to disguise the true nature of maple sugar.

Olaf knew all too well the greed of Europeans. They had crossed the Atlantic in search of cod and beaver pelts; if word of maple sugar spread, they would surely flock to the maple-rich lands of North America. The English and French, already colonizing Quebec and New England, would undoubtedly attempt to harvest sap and produce their own syrup. The secret of maple sugar would be lost, and the once-barren lands of North America would become even more enticing, complicating his family’s efforts to colonize Vinland and the rest of the continent.

By naming it Royal Jelly, Olaf not only obscured its true origins but also lent it an air of prestige. The golden hue made it easy to market as a luxury ingredient.

The next day, Haldor summoned Haig and Hrutik to his home and explained Olaf’s plan to produce and sell Royal Jelly in Europe. He instructed them sternly: “Remember, we only have Royal Jelly—no one knows anything about maple sugar. And keep Olaf’s sap-collecting methods a secret. Don’t let the crew or anyone else talk. Tell them the Royal Jelly comes from North Africa. This is how we protect Vinland.”

Haig laughed heartily. “Olaf is a treasure sent by our ancestors! Everything he does is guided by the spirit of Hrut. I’ll make sure no one leaks a word.”

Hrutik, who had always been skeptical of Haldor’s claims about Olaf’s divine favor, now found himself believing. Could the pagan gods of the North truly exist? he wondered. Or is Olaf like Moses, chosen by heaven?

Spring slipped away unnoticed.

By April 25th, Haldor had prepared all the goods for Haig, Hrutik, Ulf, and Olaf’s journey to Europe. White slaves carried loads of beaver and muskrat pelts, dried cod, and wine from Haig Fortress down to the banks of the Muskox River, where two large ships awaited.

After nearly a month of hard work, Olaf had produced nearly two hundred jars of Royal Jelly. Twenty were kept at home—half as payment for the Icelandic boys and Katrin who had helped collect sap and boil the syrup, the other half given to Haldor to stock the Hrutr Estate’s stores.

The remaining one hundred and eighty jars—roughly thirteen to fourteen hundred gallons—were worth a fortune. In England, a gallon of honey cost anywhere from ten to thirty shillings. If all the Royal Jelly sold, it could fetch fifty to sixty gold marks—equivalent to a hundred crates of premium liquor.

Jot’s wife had brought home a jar the day before, and after tasting it, he couldn’t stop praising it. Today, he had eight jars loaded onto the ship, carefully secured in a separate section with wooden frames to prevent them from toppling in rough seas—just like the wine.

After two days of grueling labor, over fifty white slaves had packed the Thor’s Hammer and the Hope to the brim with goods and repaired any damage.

On the morning of April 27th, Olaf and Ulf bid farewell to their family and friends. Under the guidance of Hrutik and Haig, they left Haig Fortress.

For this voyage, Ulf and Haig would sail the Hope, with Olaf joining them. Besides twenty-eight sailors, Pikku was also aboard.

The Thor’s Hammer was slightly smaller than the Hope, but with its cargo hold full, it only had twenty-two crew members, managed by Hrutik, Hilt, and Valitu Lunde.

The two ships, pulled by white slave laborers, slowly left the river bend and entered deeper waters, accelerating toward the open sea.

Olaf and the others stood on deck, waving to Haldor, Katrin, and the others on shore until the ships vanished from sight.

Only then did Katrin lower her hand, her eyes red as she embraced Haldor. “I can’t bear to see my two sons leave.”

Haldor gripped her shoulders and murmured, “This is the fate of a Viking.”

Their ancestors had left Scandinavia and reshaped Europe’s history and people. Now, Haldor and his sons, Olaf and Ulf, would leave Iceland and change the future of America and the North. This was the mission bestowed upon them by their forebears.

A single thought echoed in Haldor’s mind.

The Thor’s Hammer and the Hope sailed out of the Muskox River and into the Atlantic, carried by the southwest winds toward the northern seas.

Before long, the two ships had traveled several nautical miles. To the east and south of Vinland, four fishing boats were casting their nets. Soon, they hauled in a net full of cod, their cheers ringing across the water.

Olaf and the others watched from the deck.

Ulf’s eyes gleamed with determination as he clenched his fists and growled, “These are thieves. I’ll drive them out one day.”

Haig squinted into the distance before sneering. “English and French fishermen. And that one with the Spanish flag—probably Basques. They fly the French flag when the English are around and the Spanish flag when the French are near. A bunch of opportunists.”

“What are Basques?” Olaf asked, unfamiliar with the term.

Haig scoffed. “A group of early Western natives living between Spain and France. Most are nominally French, but their customs and language don’t fit either country. Many make their living by fishing.”

Olaf nodded, unimpressed.

The Thor’s Hammer followed the Hope, riding the southwest winds at full speed. By noon, they had reached the deep sea.

Looking back, Vinland was barely visible—they had traveled far.

This European voyage had been planned long ago by Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik. Their route was set: first to Ireland and Scotland, then to England and Holland, and finally back to Scotland and Ireland to pick up more white slaves.

Sitting in his cabin, sipping water, Olaf eagerly anticipated seeing 17th-century England and Holland with his own eyes. Though he had never visited Europe in his past life, he had heard much about England. This time, he was determined to study the nation closely and understand how it had risen to prominence.

Vinland had little to learn from England, but Iceland did. Olaf had already decided that once Vinland was secure, he would return to Iceland—not just for revenge, but to seize the opportunity while Denmark was weakened by wars with Sweden and the Holy Roman Empire. He would lead Iceland to independence and carve out a place in Europe.

To Olaf, England—a fellow island nation that had grown from weakness to strength—was the perfect model.

Vinland could only serve as a starting point and a resource base. To truly shape the era and wield influence, he needed a foothold in Europe. Olaf and Haldor shared a vision: develop Vinland into a granary and lumber depot, then use Iceland as a bridgehead to conquer Europe. With both regions supporting each other, they could build real power—no longer at the mercy of Danish warships blockading Iceland.

Since killing the guards and fleeing Iceland, Haldor’s ambitions had grown. Olaf, Ulf, Hrutik, and even Heiner had encouraged him.

The leaders of the Hrutr Estate were united in their goal: develop Vinland, raise an elite army of Icelanders and white slaves, build warships, and return to Iceland to lead its people to independence.

Haldor estimated Iceland’s population at over fifty thousand—all descendants of Vikings, many with generations of raiding expertise. With minimal training, they could become formidable warriors. Using Iceland’s elite as a core and supplementing with white slave soldiers, while relying on Vinland and even America as a food source, Iceland could one day rival the great powers.

Olaf was only eleven, and the Thirty Years’ War still had over a decade to run. If Haldor and his allies seized this golden opportunity, their dreams could become reality.

Chapter 15: Ireland

The sky was overcast, and a light drizzle fell from the heavens. The waves on the sea were larger than usual, but fortunately, there were no major thunderstorms. Thus, Thor’s Hammer and Hope proceeded cautiously yet steadily.

After several hours, the weather gradually cleared, and the sun appeared in the sky. It was noon.

Olaf led Pikku out of the cabin, looked up at the sky, and sighed in relief. Turning his head, he saw nothing but the vast expanse of the sea.

Suddenly, Pikku pointed to the distant land in the north and shouted, “Young master, there’s land over there!”

“Oh,” Olaf turned to look, then turned his head and shouted toward the bridge, “Brother, is that Ireland?”

Today, Ulf was at the helm. Hearing Olaf’s voice, he calculated the time and said loudly, “Almost there. Is the angle off?”

“Turn the rudder fifty degrees south,” Olaf blinked and immediately spotted the deviation, then shouted.

After Ulf adjusted the rudder, he finally saw the distant land through the window and sighed in relief, “Finally, we should reach Dublin by afternoon.”

Having been at sea for half a month, Olaf was already bored out of his mind. A few days ago, he had carved a chessboard on the table with a knife and used the heads and tails of copper coins to distinguish the pieces. He taught Ulf, Haig, Pikku, and others how to play Gomoku, passing the time by playing chess.

By afternoon, the two ships entered the Celtic Sea south of Ireland. At noon, they had a fresh seafood feast, then turned north, entering the Saint George’s Channel between Britain and Ireland.

Standing on the deck, they could see a few fishing boats scattered in the channel, but ships as large as Thor’s Hammer and Hope were rare.

Ireland was very poor, with an economy based on agriculture, so there were few fishermen. After watching for a while, Olaf and the others saw a bay appear to the northwest. Inside was a large port similar to Reykjavik. Ulf and Hilt then steered the ship toward it.

“This is Dublin,” Haig pointed to the increasingly clear port ahead and said, “After England occupied Ireland, this place has been unstable. The Irish don’t submit to the English. After several suppressions, they finally quieted down. But this place is even poorer than Iceland. Except for a few wealthy lords and old nobles, the only other wealthy person is the Governor of Dublin. The current governor is called Carnavon Stephen, an old English noble. He is a distant relative of the prime minister and has been the Governor of Ireland for twelve years. He is a traditional noble, very arrogant and values money highly, so dealing with him isn’t difficult. Moreover, he always stays in the governor’s mansion. In the past, when we had fewer goods, we usually only dealt with his subordinates.”

“When you’re in Ireland, don’t talk to ordinary Irish people, and don’t use the term ‘southerners’ because the richest Irish are southerners, and they hate this term. Ordinary Irish are just the lowest in status. Our goods are mainly sold to Irish noble lords and Governor Stephen. You should look more and talk less on the way.”

Haig carefully explained everything Olaf needed to pay attention to, and Olaf listened attentively. After entering the port, the ship slowly reduced speed under the command of the port flagman and docked at the harbor.

The port was built with pine wood and was quite sturdy. However, there were already five or six large ships docked, and sailors were busy loading and unloading goods. It seemed that most of the goods were being loaded onto the ships, with only a small amount of salt, sugar, and cloth being unloaded.

Ulf saw Olaf’s gaze and lowered his head, saying, “The agricultural tax in Ireland is very high. The governor and large farm owners add an extra twenty percent, so Ireland has to hand over more than seventy percent of its grain every year. It’s said that many people starve to death every year in the north. These should be the governor and Irish lords shipping grain out.”

Olaf instantly understood and thought to himself, “No wonder the Irish are eager to go to Vinland as white slaves. In their homeland, they are being exploited layer by layer by the British government, colonial governors, and large landowners until there’s nothing left. Staying at home is death, so they might as well go out and take a chance.”

While Ulf and Olaf were talking, a wooden plank was placed on the ship, and a short, red-haired man holding a broadsword and accompanied by two soldiers came aboard. He first looked around, then at the flags on Hope and Thor’s Hammer, which he didn’t recognize. However, he then saw the Danish red cross flag and raised his eyebrows at Haig and the other sailors.

“Who is the captain? What are you here for?”

The Irish accent in English made Olaf and the others frown repeatedly. They felt it was worse than Icelandic with an accent.

Haig stepped forward, secretly handed the man a few silver shillings, and then explained in English, “We are Icelandic merchants, here to sell some northern specialties. May I ask your name, sir? We used to be friends with Tax Officer Simmer. I wonder why he’s not here.”

The red-haired short man put away the small silver coins, then grinned and said, “Simmer drank too much in the winter and froze to death outside. I am Kildare, the new port tax officer appointed by the governor. You all look like honest people.”

Turning to the guards behind him, Tax Officer Kildare said, “Old Crooked Mouth, measure the inner length of the deck of these two ships.”

The two soldiers took out a rope with markings and stood on both sides of Hope’s deck, then straightened the rope. The oldest soldier, who had a slightly crooked mouth, shouted, “Seventy feet!”

After that, the two went to measure the inner width of Thor’s Hammer’s deck and shouted, “Seventy-two feet and nine inches!”

Kildare smiled at Haig and said, “Sir, according to the regulations of the English Parliament, your two ships need to pay twenty-seven pounds and eighteen shillings in taxes. After paying the taxes, you can stay and move freely in Dublin. Welcome to Dublin.”

In the Age of Exploration, ports in various countries relied on taxing merchant ships for income. However, in commercially developed regions, exchange personnel were dispatched to follow transactions and collect about ten percent of the transaction tax. But in backward areas like Iceland and Ireland, maritime trade was monopolized by domestic capitalists, so the tax collection method was simple and convenient.

Haig knew that this tax method was beneficial to him. If it were according to the transaction tax of large ports like London, Lisbon, or Amsterdam, it would be more than ten percent of the transaction amount. Knowing he was getting a good deal, he didn’t bargain. Moreover, the small favor he had just given Kildare had saved him a few feet in measurement, which was most beneficial to him.

Taking out twenty gold coins and more than forty silver coins from his money bag, Haig counted them twice before handing them to Kildare.

At that time, the gold and silver currencies of various countries were mixed. There were many counterfeit coins with extremely low gold and silver content on the market. As tax officers, they were proficient in arithmetic and sensitive to currency. Kildare took them one by one to verify, then calculated the conversion standard of pounds, Baltic marks, and French écus in his mind before finally putting them away. He nodded and said, “Not bad, I overcharged you by one shilling, friend. What’s your name?”

“My name is Haig, sir.” Haig smiled and nodded, then the two shook hands, and Kildare left the ship with the soldiers.

Olaf did a simple calculation of the pounds and couldn’t help but click his tongue, saying, “They don’t tax based on the value of the goods but on the size of the ship. This is very unfair to merchants dealing in cheap goods.”

Haig chuckled and said, “Olaf, you don’t understand. The value of the goods on the ship can’t be fixed. For example, a beaver pelt might be sold by us for a few marks, but local big merchants can sell it for dozens of marks. Moreover, the price of goods is changeable and can’t be fixed. If taxes were based on the value of goods, it wouldn’t be good for the nobles and big merchants who really control large businesses. No one would want to promote this, so in small places like Ireland and Scotland, ships like ours that run hard currency once a year are actually the most beneficial. If we were in London, we would really have to pay taxes based on the transaction amount.”

Olaf thought for a moment, then nodded and said, “Indeed, in these small places, many goods basically don’t have a market price. Local merchants also want to evade taxes. If the buying and selling process isn’t supervised, unless it’s a transfer of property like land or houses, even the governor can’t collect transaction taxes and can only tax based on the ship.”

Note: The British currency units are pounds, shillings, and pence. But before the currency reform, the pound referred to a pound of silver. The currency form was basically gold coins worth more than twenty shillings, equivalent to a pound of silver.

Chapter 16: Nobility

Haig and Hrutik had spent many years traveling through Ireland, but in recent years, Haig had handed over the reins to Ulf. So, Ulf and Hrutik were the first to disembark and seek out familiar merchants, while Haig, Olaf, and the others remained on the ship to guard it.

After a long while, the fourth bell of the distant church rang, signaling the approaching dusk. Olaf glanced at the fiery clouds in the western sky and muttered in confusion, “It’s almost dark. Why haven’t my brother and Hrutik returned yet?”

Haig, sitting at the table playing Gomoku with Olaf, pondered his next move as he replied, “Don’t worry. Dublin’s security is good, and even if they run into trouble, Hrutik and Ulf can handle themselves.”

Olaf considered this and casually placed a piece, blocking Haig’s clever two-pronged attack, leaving him stunned and frustrated.

After a few more moves, Olaf was on the verge of connecting four pieces, and Haig could only block one end, leaving the other open. Suddenly, a sailor’s voice called out from outside, “Young Master Ulf, Captain Hrutik, you’re back!”

Haig leaped up with a hearty laugh, rushing out to give Hrutik a warm embrace before eagerly asking, “Brother, how did it go? Did you contact the buyers?”

Hrutik looked puzzled by Haig’s sudden enthusiasm but, being old friends, didn’t dwell on it. He smiled and said, “Haldar and I used to deal in salted fish and sealskins, so we only know one local big shot in Ireland. He agreed to take all the dried cod, and the price is good. As for the precious furs, he couldn’t handle them, so I didn’t mention them.”

“Uncle, I contacted Grey Bowers. He said he’ll speak to the governor tomorrow to see how much beaver and river otter pelts they can take. As for the royal jelly, he wants to see it in person. If it meets his standards, he’ll take it. I told him we only procured sixty jars and forty pelts in the Baltic Sea to avoid arousing their greed. The rest we’ll sell in Scotland and Amsterdam.”

Ulf spoke methodically, then noticed Olaf and Hrutik’s unfamiliarity with the name Grey Bowers and began to explain.

“Grey Bowers is one of the largest landowners in Ireland and a baron bestowed by the English crown. He’s a distant cousin of Prime Minister Stilton. Lord Bowers is a major figure in Ireland with an excellent relationship with Governor Stephen. His wealth is not to be underestimated. If I weren’t worried that he and the governor might learn the true value of our cargo and take risks, I would have sold all the furs to him.”

“Ulf, you’ve done well. That was a wise decision,” Haig said approvingly, patting Ulf on the back. Then he suggested, “We’ll wait on the ship for their response. Hrutik, how about a drink?”

Hrutik laughed heartily, and the three of them, along with a dozen sailors, went ashore to drink, leaving half the crew and Olaf behind to guard the ship.

It was late at night when Haig and the others returned. Olaf, awakened by the noise, grumbled irritably upon seeing them before going back to sleep.

Early the next morning, a young man in a lace jacket called out Ulf’s name from the shore.

Olaf and Ulf were washing up when Ulf heard the call clearly. He wiped his hands and said, “That must be Lord Bowers’ servant.”

Ulf then instructed Pikku and a white slave sailor to bring the man aboard.

After a while, Pikku led the young man into the cabin. Haig, Ulf, and Hrutik stood up from their seats, while Olaf remained in the corner.

The young man wore traditional Irish clothing but no makeup or accessories. His posture revealed him to be a highly trained, professional servant.

“Mr. Ulf, my lord has said that he will be dining with the governor at the governor’s mansion this afternoon. He requests that you bring one of each type of fur and a jar of royal jelly to the mansion. He will invite the governor to appraise them. If both are satisfied, they will purchase everything.”

The young man gave a slight bow and spoke in a floating tone with a standard London accent. Haig, Hrutik, and Ulf understood most of it, but Olaf only caught the general idea. After all, in this life, he hadn’t had much exposure to English, and his English from his previous life was only average, let alone the archaic London accent from centuries ago.

Although Ireland and Scotland had been conquered by England centuries ago, they maintained a degree of autonomy within the system. Ireland, in particular, due to its ethnic composition and geographical location, enjoyed complete self-rule. England only sent a governor to manage affairs and exploit the Irish, much like Denmark’s rule over Iceland. Both were forms of colonial rule, though Iceland fared slightly better due to its remote location and sparse population, suffering less exploitation than Ireland.

For this reason, Ireland would later demand independence, and Scotland would hold two referendums seeking the same.

In name, the governor held the highest authority in Ireland, but in reality, the governor relied on Irish nobles and landowners to maintain order. Thus, nobles like Bowers wielded significant power.

After sending Bowers’ servant away, Ulf personally selected several beaver, river otter, bear, and fox pelts, while Pikku brought out a jar of royal jelly.

“Olaf, come with me. Uncle Haig, you and Uncle Hrutik stay on the ship,” Ulf said, changing into his finest and most elegant clothes, donning a feathered hat.

Haig nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll have Valitu and two white slaves escort you.”

Olaf knew his brother and uncle wanted him to gain some experience, so without waiting for them to say more, he went to his room and had Pikku fetch the exquisite garments his mother, Heiner’s wife, and his cousin Vanhild had sewn together.

After much effort, Olaf and Pikku finally secured the pleated, puffed trousers around his calves, then put on deer leather boots. His upper body was adorned with a gold-threaded jacket, over which he wore a long robe, and on his head, a wide-brimmed black hat.

The opulent attire accentuated Olaf’s fair skin. Unlike other white youths, his face was free of freckles, with delicate features and a square jaw, giving him a dignified and noble appearance, much like the son of a great nation’s aristocracy.

Ulf smiled approvingly as Olaf entered the cabin, while Haig stroked his beard and chuckled, “Our ancestor Hrut was a noble of the Norwegian kingdom. Ulf, you and Olaf look like princes of Copenhagen in these formal clothes. When you meet the governor and Bowers, mention our ancestry. Remember, we are descendants of the Grey Cloak Jarl from the Norwegian kingdom, a noble lineage spanning nine generations.”

In this era, nobles, capitalists, and commoners were worlds apart. After a thousand years of the Middle Ages, the noble’s exalted image was deeply ingrained in every European’s mind.

Even a fallen noble could command respect when interacting with other nobles. After all, etiquette was born to distinguish social classes and identities. Nobles only observed etiquette among themselves; for Western nobles, it was “no courtesy for commoners.”

Since they were meeting the governor and Bowers in the afternoon, Ulf and Olaf ate only a thin porridge and a bite of black bread for lunch to avoid bad breath or stomach discomfort.

Feeling the time was right, Ulf and Olaf, accompanied by Pikku as their servant and Valitu as their guard, disembarked. The two white slaves carried a wooden box containing several pelts, while the other carried a jar of royal jelly.

Chapter 17: Making Connections

The upper echelons of society in the early seventeenth century were both troublesome and chaotic. Unless absolutely necessary, nobles would never walk on foot, as it would soil their shoes and the hems of their robes—an unforgivable offense for a noble.

Now, Ulf and Olaf were to visit the governor as descendants of the ancient Norwegian nobility from Iceland, so they naturally had to maintain their noble bearing.

After disembarking, Ulf had Valitu find a carriage. Then, Olaf, Ulf, and Valitu climbed into the cabin, while the two white slaves and their goods were crammed beside the driver.

The carriage slowly left the harbor. Olaf sat inside the jostling vehicle, observing the scenery on either side. The dirt road was patched with gravel in some places, while others were muddy. The path was mostly smooth, though occasionally pitted.

Leaving the harbor, they first headed north across a bridge to the northern side of a black river, then followed the northern bank westward. To the right were low wooden and stone houses, with few pedestrians, all dressed in tattered, impoverished clothing—clearly laborers scraping by.

After traveling about a thousand paces, they reached a bridge crossing. Looking south from the bridge, they saw gardens and tall, well-kept houses, with neatly dressed women watering flowers in the courtyards. But to the north, the scene remained dilapidated. Further north was a bustling market, where at the intersection, many “wild nightingales” could be seen flashing their white arms to attract customers.

Having visited Dublin several times, Ulf was familiar with the situation. He lowered his voice and said, “This Blackwater River is Dublin’s great Black Mud River. There are twelve large bridges across it. North of the bridge is the slum, while the south is where the nobles and wealthy live. Around the fourth bridge on the south bank is the governor’s castle, the heart of Ireland. South of the castle is St. Patrick’s Cathedral, where the fifth-century saint Patrick preached after receiving the Gospel. Currently, a cardinal oversees it.”

Olaf raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, “They still follow Catholicism here. Didn’t England convert to Protestantism?”

Ulf shook his head lightly. “I don’t know. Maybe the English king didn’t require Ireland to convert, or perhaps Governor Bowes doesn’t want to change too much. But it doesn’t affect us.”

“True,” Olaf nodded. Then the carriage turned south onto a white stone bridge, entering the fragrant, flower-filled south bank of the Black Mud River.

Ulf pointed to the towering fortress in the distance and said, “That’s the governor’s residence.”

Moments later, they alighted in the plaza before the fortress. Ulf casually handed the driver a few pence, then Olaf looked up at the castle. It was ancient and grand, its dark, mottled walls silently bearing the marks of time.

“A beautiful castle,” Olaf nodded, smiling slightly. “I like it.”

Dublin Castle was built in the early thirteenth century by King George of England to store the wealth he had plundered from Ireland. But since the previous century, King Henry VIII had declared himself King of Ireland under the pretense of promoting Catholicism, marking Ireland’s complete subjugation to England. He stationed a governor with troops in Dublin Castle to seize the lands and assets of the Irish Catholic Church. At that time, many in Ireland were labeled “blasphemers” and “rebels,” stripped of their wealth, killed, or enslaved.

A decade ago, King James I had even confiscated three million acres of fertile land in Ulster, northern Ireland, and granted it to English and Scottish nobles.

Thus, as England’s oppression and exploitation of Ireland intensified, the governor’s responsibilities and powers grew. Now, the governor’s residence was permanently garrisoned with five hundred guards, as Ireland’s population of over a million necessitated vigilance.

Pikku approached the castle’s moat and announced that his masters, Ulf and Olaf, had been invited by Lord Bowes to visit the governor.

After the time it took a candle to burn, the drawbridge slowly lowered, and a burly man in half-plate armor emerged. He looked at Ulf and Olaf and asked, “Are you Ulf, the merchant from Iceland?”

“Yes, sir,” Ulf replied politely.

The man nodded and led them into the castle. Beyond the gate was a vast garden, flanked by bastions and numerous halls. The man pointed to the massive inner keep beyond the garden and said, “The governor and Lord Bowes are having tea in the St. Patrick’s Hall on the second floor. Please follow this guard upstairs.”

A young guard approached, and Ulf, Olaf, and their companions followed him into the inner keep, ascending the stairs. After three turns, they entered a magnificent hall.

Two guards stood at the entrance, and inside were two smaller doors, likely resting rooms. The guards questioned the escort, and one went in to report, returning shortly.

“You may enter.”

Olaf followed Ulf, leading their four subordinates into the inner hall. It was about thirty paces square, with a long table draped in a dark green velvet cloth embroidered with gold. At one end sat a mustachioed man in a fitted coat, appearing in his fifties, with a distinguished air. Nearby sat a man in his forties with brownish-yellow hair, exuding wealth, his fingers adorned with two cat’s-eye rings.

Ulf stepped forward, removing his hat and bowing with a hand over his chest. He then announced, “Ulf, son of the Icelandic chieftain and descendant of the Grey Cloak Jarl of the Norwegian Kingdom, greets Governor Stephen and Lord Bowes.”

Olaf followed suit. After their greetings, the mustachioed man waved his hand and said, “Since you are descendants of northern nobility, and clearly well-educated, please, take a seat.”

Governor Stephen stroked his beard and chuckled, “I just heard from Bowes that you, Ulf, are only in your twenties but have already inherited your family’s legacy for several years. Impressive. Young men should be bold and daring. Your brother here is also quite good. Excellent.”

“Thank you for your praise. May the Lord bless you.”

Ulf and Olaf smiled in gratitude and sat down, keeping their backs straight to avoid any breach of etiquette.

Bowes took a sip of tea and gestured to those still standing, saying, “Ulf, quickly present the beaver pelts and royal jelly so the governor can inspect their quality.”

Governor Stephen waved his hand, and an Irish servant stepped forward to clear the tea set.

Ulf hastily instructed Pikku and the others to bring out the furs and place them before the governor and Bowes.

The two men picked up the beaver pelts, stroking them with smiles, their wrinkles softening.

“The beaver pelts are as smooth as silk—no, even better than silk. Such high-quality pelts are becoming rarer. Excellent.”

Governor Stephen examined one pelt for a long time before setting it down and inspecting the others. He then smiled and said, “Your pelts are of high quality. How many beaver and river otter pelts do you have?”

Ulf stood up and replied, “Governor, we only managed to acquire these pelts from the northwestern depths of the Baltic Sea. The quantity is limited, and the cost was substantial.”

Before Ulf could finish, Governor Stephen waved his hand and turned to Bowes, asking, “These two young men seem quite capable. Let’s give them a fair price. What do you say? Don’t take all the beaver pelts; leave the others for you. How does that sound?”

Bowes thought for a moment, rubbing the cat’s-eye ring on his right index finger with his left hand, and smiled, “You’ll have to give me a few. I’m going to London next month to celebrate the prime minister’s birthday, and they’ll make excellent gifts.”

“Alright then. For the sake of our friendship,” Governor Stephen shrugged.

Bowes then turned to Ulf and said, “You’re not new to Dublin, so you know the prices of beaver pelts. Here’s what I propose: twenty silver pounds per beaver pelt, or two gold pounds if you prefer gold. River otter pelts at fifteen silver pounds, bear pelts at forty, and fox and wolf pelts at nine. How does that sound?”

Ulf considered for a moment, then nodded and said, “I accept your offer, my lord.”

Chapter 18: Striking It Rich

The price was settled, and Bowes beckoned for paper and ink to be brought over. He and Stephen then signed an agreement with Ulf, with three copies made—each detailing the quantity and price of pelts purchased by each party. Bowes and Stephen’s servants then went to fetch the money.

The servant opened the jar and presented a silver spoon. Bowes and Stephen both caught the sweet, fragrant aroma of the royal jelly. As seasoned gourmets who had sampled famous desserts from around the world, they still found the taste of the royal jelly novel and refreshing.

Stephen scooped some onto Bowes’ plate with the spoon, then took a small portion for himself. The moment it touched his tongue, the unique fragrance and sweetness enveloped his mouth. The light, refreshing sweetness—rich yet not cloying—made them both take another bite.

“This royal jelly is delicious,” Stephen said, dabbing his mouth with a handkerchief. “But it doesn’t taste like honey. Ulf, can you tell us what this really is?”

Ulf glanced at his younger brother beside him and smiled. “The royal jelly was obtained by my brother, Olaf. Only he can explain its origins.”

Olaf stood up and looked at the governor, his gaze neither servile nor arrogant, his tone calm. “The royal jelly is a rare honey I acquired in the dense jungles of southern Africa. I encountered yellow-skinned people there—at first, I thought they were Tatars, but they called themselves Inuit, a unique tribe living near southern Africa. Our Icelandic histories have recorded them before; the sagas refer to them as the Unipads.

“I saved an injured Inuit boy—this one, Pikku—who is now my servant. In gratitude, his tribe gave me the royal jelly they found on the southern African plateau. According to them, it’s made by a special species of queen bee that feeds on the essence of plateau flowers. It’s far more valuable than ordinary honey and is said to have medicinal properties—it can invigorate vitality, cure impotence and premature ejaculation, help the weak recover their health, and even prolong life if consumed regularly.”

Olaf spoke with utter sincerity, though his words were pure fabrication. Stephen and Bowes noticed for the first time that Pikku was a yellow-skinned boy, which surprised them—neither had ever seen an East Asian before. They believed about seventy to eighty percent of what Olaf said.

“Pikku, greet the two lords,” Olaf commanded sternly.

Pikku, who had been prepared in advance, stepped forward and bowed, speaking in the Inuit language.

Stephen and Bowes chuckled and gestured for Pikku to rise.

“I’ve heard that the distant East is full of yellow-skinned people, like the Indians and Chinese,” Bowes marveled, looking at Pikku. “I never expected to find them near southern Africa. Truly astonishing.”

Stephen reminisced, “When I was young, I followed Sir Francis Drake to the West Indies. The Indians there didn’t look much like this boy. Olaf, you’re young, yet you speak with such refinement and courage, venturing deep into the forests to explore. I admire you. If you ever need anything, you can come to me.”

Olaf hadn’t expected his poise and demeanor to earn Stephen’s favor so quickly. He hurriedly bowed in gratitude. “Thank you for your kindness, my lord.”

“As for the royal jelly, I’ll buy it at the price of Ming Dynasty white sugar,” Stephen said with a light laugh, glancing at his old friend. “If there’s another batch, Bowes, you can have it next time.”

Bowes sighed in resignation, smirking. “Fine, take it if you want. Next time, I’ll keep it all to myself and won’t tell you.”

While the servants went to fetch the gold, the group chatted idly for a few more moments before exchanging the contracts and money. Stephen stretched and prepared for his afternoon nap, while Bowes instructed his servants to follow Ulf to collect the pelts before taking his leave.

Ulf and Olaf watched as the servants carried several large chests before them. When they opened one, the sight of the gold coins inside made their hearts race with excitement.

“We should hurry back,” Ulf said, snapping out of his reverie. “We only have a couple of hours before nightfall. We need to deliver the governor’s and Bowes’ goods as soon as possible.”

Olaf, seeing a chest full of gold for the first time, quickly regained his composure and led Valitu, Pikku, and the others in carrying the seven or eight chests out of the governor’s mansion.

The governor’s mansion sent a steward and six servants to accompany them, along with two horse-drawn carriages.

“The steward politely said, “I heard you didn’t bring a carriage, so I brought an extra one for you to use.”

“Thank you,” Ulf replied before instructing everyone to load the money chests onto the carriages.

Just as Olaf and Ulf were about to board, the servant from Bowes’ household suddenly appeared.

“Master Ulf, my lord requests the presence of you and Master Olaf.”

Ulf and Olaf turned to see Bowes sitting in his carriage, waving at them from the open door.

“Please wait a moment,” Ulf apologized to the steward before leading Olaf to Bowes’ carriage.

“My lord, do you have any further instructions for us?”

Bowes smiled warmly, nodding at them before speaking softly. “I just wanted to ask if you have any more stock left. If so, I’d like to purchase it all at the price we agreed upon earlier. And if there’s a next batch, I’d like first dibs. What do you think?”

Olaf noticed that Bowes’ attitude was even more amiable than before. He suspected it might be because Governor Stephen had mentioned taking care of him, or perhaps Bowes simply wanted more goods.

Ulf thought for a moment before shrugging. “Well, my lord, we do have some left, but beaver pelts are rare—we only had twenty-five, and now only five remain. We do still have some royal jelly, though.”

Olaf nodded. “Yes, we have twenty jars of royal jelly left. We were planning to take them back to Iceland, but if you want them, we can sell them to you.”

“Excellent. How many river otter pelts, fox pelts, and wolf pelts do you have left?”

“A few, but not many,” Ulf said thoughtfully.

Bowes chuckled and ordered his servant to fetch more gold before continuing. “I’ll send someone with the money to collect the goods. Whatever the total, I’ll pay it. You two are impressive young men. I believe you’ll become great merchants one day, so I’d like to be your friend, just like Stephen. If you ever need anything, you can come to me.”

“Thank you, my lord,” both brothers said, bowing in gratitude.

Bowes closed the carriage door, and it gradually drove away.

Ulf and Olaf exchanged a smile before turning and climbing into their own carriage.

Valitu drove from the front, while the white slaves sat in the carriage, guarding the money chests. Olaf’s excitement still hadn’t faded. He mentally calculated: Forty beaver pelts and over a hundred other pelts earned us a little over a thousand pounds in gold coins. A thousand pounds is nearly two thousand gold marks, which is twenty thousand silver marks!

Haldor’s entire fortune in Iceland was only twenty thousand silver marks, and half of that had been lost to Sigfoss eight years ago. These assets had been accumulated by the Haldor family over generations, yet Ulf had effortlessly earned the equivalent of his ancestors’ lifetimes’ worth of wealth with just over seventy pelts. The sheer magic of this transformation left Olaf in awe, though Ulf took it in stride.

After all, in the Age of Exploration, the profits from agriculture paled in comparison to maritime trade, and maritime trade was nothing compared to colonial trade. Maritime trade involved buying and selling, with assets invested and risks taken to earn a profit margin. But colonial trade required no investment—all goods were obtained through plunder, so every sale was pure profit.

Stephen had bought the royal jelly at the price of white sugar. Among luxury goods, white sugar was twice as expensive as honey, though premium honey could narrow that gap. A pound of white sugar now sold for forty shillings to half a pound of silver.

A jar of royal jelly weighed about twenty pounds, so at forty shillings per pound, that was forty pounds per jar. Sixty jars totaled two hundred forty pounds, or just under five hundred silver marks. This far exceeded Olaf’s expectations.

Olaf was more than satisfied with his earnings. Five hundred silver marks could buy thirty firearms.

Chapter 19: The White Slave Trade

Two carriages rattled their way into the dock.

Back on the ship, the sailors helped the servants from the governor’s mansion unload the furs and royal jelly. The steward led the servants away in the carriage, while Haldor and Haig stood guard over several chests of gold coins, counting the money nonstop.

In the past, Haig would only get a dozen or so beaver pelts and river otter pelts in a year, and he had to sell half of them to the French. Even at best, he couldn’t make much money. But this year, just one trip to Ireland had earned him more than the past seven years combined.

This made Haig firmly believe that Vinland should only be entrusted to his brother Haldor, and he grew excited.

In truth, the reason why dozens of pelts could fetch such a high price was partly because the governor had taken a liking to Ulf and Olaf and hadn’t driven a hard bargain. At his age and position, he often showed favor to promising young men as an investment in the future.

Before long, Bowes’ servants arrived. After Ulf went out to negotiate, they sold another ten beaver pelts and over thirty other pelts, along with forty jars of royal jelly.

Once Bowes’ people had left, Hilt, Hrutik, Valitu, and Lunde carried the money chests and followed Ulf into the cabin.

Clang!

They opened the chests and counted the money together. Then, Haldor, his face flushed with excitement, announced, “This time, we sold fifty beaver pelts, over sixty other pelts, three thousand pounds of dried cod, and over three hundred gallons of wine. In total, we made one thousand six hundred pounds in gold coins, which is equivalent to three thousand one hundred fifty-six gold marks, or over thirty thousand silver marks!”

Gasp!

The crowd gasped in astonishment. For the people of Iceland, thirty thousand silver marks could buy an entire village’s worth of land. They were overjoyed.

“When we return, we’ll reduce the white slaves’ contracts by one year and give each of them ten pounds in gold coins. The rest of you will each get fifty pounds in gold coins,” Haldor said happily. The crowd grew even more excited.

Then, Haig sent someone to buy beer, planning to celebrate with a grand feast on the ship.

Hrutik, still somewhat sober, pulled Haldor aside and said sternly, “First, we need to find someone to handle the recruitment of white slaves. Then, we can buy the beer and leave the harbor to drink. If we get drunk here, someone might kill us and steal our money, and you won’t even know it.”

The crowd suddenly realized the danger. Haldor then instructed Ulf and Haig to contact the northern landowners living in Dublin to recruit white slaves from the north to sell in Vinland.

Due to the oppression of the English king, the poorest and most suffering people, who had long been selling their children, daughters, and even themselves, were in northern Ireland, especially in the northwest region of Ulster.

Over a decade ago, many of the white slaves deceived into going to the eastern coast of North America in New England were Irish. And of the three batches of white slaves Haig had recruited over the past seven years, more than half were from northern Ireland.

Southern Ireland was relatively stable and prosperous, with a decent standard of living, but the north was much worse off.

The northern landowners, in an effort to improve the political environment and conditions in the north, had been living in Dublin, lobbying the governor to reduce taxes in the north or to advise the English king to give Catholics some space to survive.

Stephen, of course, paid no attention to the northern landowners, always ignoring them. But over the years, as the northern landowners failed to change the situation, they began secretly helping northern Irish people escape overseas. This way, they could reduce the population pressure on their estates, free up land, and allow the remaining farmers to seek a living. Thus, the northern landowners could gain both land and money from selling white slaves, making this trade quite profitable for them at the moment.

Chapter 20: Amsterdam

Amsterdam, the economic and political heart of the Dutch Republic.

Since the province of Holland was the wealthiest and largest in the Dutch Republic, it was the true core, often referred to as the Holland Republic.

After decades of struggle, the Dutch people had endured the oppression and slaughter of Spanish colonizers. Now, thanks to its thriving maritime trade, the Netherlands had risen rapidly. In industries such as fishing, shipbuilding, grain processing, linen and wool weaving, and fur trade, it had become the leader among European nations. Particularly in fishing and shipbuilding, it had surpassed England, France, and Spain, laying the foundation to dominate all of Europe.

In the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the Champagne fairs on the northern coast of France were the most vibrant, representing the pinnacle of European trade. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Amsterdam had replaced the Champagne fairs, even surpassing them as an international metropolis.

At the port of Amsterdam, over two thousand ships of various sizes docked and departed daily. If one were to calculate the economy based on the number of ships and cargo throughput, Amsterdam alone could rival the combined total of all ports in England and France.

Here, one could find Nordic wool and furs, English wool, Mediterranean wine and sugar, Arabian spices, African ivory and rhinoceros horns, as well as porcelain and silk from the Far East—everything was available.

Free merchants and agents of large capitalists from various countries bustled through Amsterdam’s exchange and docks every day, trading goods on ships from different nations before shipping them out on their own or their companies’ vessels.

As Thor’s Hammer and Hope approached the port, flagmen waved them in. Once the ships anchored, the flagmen on shore shouted something.

Olaf and the others stepped onto the deck, listening intently but unable to understand.

“Is that English or German?” Haig frowned, shaking his head.

“Maybe a Dutch dialect,” Ulf said uncertainly.

“Does anyone here understand it?” Olaf looked at the others and the white slaves, but everyone shook their heads.

Just then, Hrutik from Hope spoke in a similar tone to the flagman.

Haig laughed and said, “Hrutik is Swiss; he speaks German. He might be able to communicate with the Dutch.”

After a long conversation with the flagman, Hrutik called out to Haig and the others, “To trade goods in Amsterdam, we must first go to the exchange to register and obtain a tax permit before we can list our goods. If we need to exchange currency, we should go to the Amsterdam Bank in the southeast of the dock. There, we can deposit money from various countries and exchange it for bills, which we can then use for transactions. When we leave, we can exchange the bills back into currency at the bank.”

“Bank…” Olaf pondered for a moment, suddenly recalling that the world’s first bank had emerged in the early seventeenth century in the Netherlands. Along with it came the stock exchange, initially for trading shares of the Dutch East India Company to raise funds for overseas trade. As the East India Company’s business flourished, its stocks became more valuable. Later, the West India Company was established, but after colonizing Brazil, it went bankrupt due to prolonged warfare.

“I’ll go with Hrutik to the exchange to register and list our goods. Ulf, you take Olaf, Valitu, and the others to exchange the bills. We need to buy flour, seeds, containers, and weapons. Exchange one thousand gold marks’ worth of bills first to avoid drawing too much attention with the money.” Haig thought for a moment, pulled Ulf aside to give instructions, then left with Hrutik and the moneybag to find the exchange.

Ulf left Hilt and Valitu to guard the ship while he, Olaf, Pikku, two Icelanders, and six white slaves disembarked.

The eleven men, each with a sword at their waist, guarded five chests filled with gold coins as they walked along the dock.

Olaf had two throwing axes tucked into his belt, and Pikku carried a short spear as they followed behind. As they left the dock, everyone frowned.

Outside the dock, guards stood watch. Since all eleven were armed, four soldiers approached to stop them.

After speaking in Dutch and realizing Ulf and the others didn’t understand, the lead soldier tried English and Danish.

“Who are you?”

Ulf quickly smiled and replied in Danish that they were heading to the bank. The soldier suddenly understood and mockingly said, “Amsterdam has excellent security. There are patrols on the streets to prevent robberies. If you’re going to the bank, you can call a carriage. There’s no need for such a grand display—it makes you look like bandits.”

Olaf turned his head to look around and noticed a few merchants carrying heavy moneybags with only one or two servants following them. He thought that if Amsterdam didn’t maintain good security, how could merchants feel safe doing business here? He silently praised the wisdom of the Dutch rulers.

Ulf awkwardly smiled, then called two carriages. Everyone boarded and left the dock, heading toward the city center.

The Netherlands was a lowland country, and Amsterdam was built at sea level, crisscrossed with canals. The carriages constantly weaved through bridges and winding roads. Although the bustling streets and crowds were visible on both sides, Olaf soon lost his sense of direction.

For Ulf and the others, who had grown up in Iceland, a street with a hundred people was already overwhelming. But in Amsterdam, people were everywhere—some streets were so crowded that people were shoulder to shoulder. This level of prosperity was beyond anything they had ever seen or heard of, leaving them stunned and tense.

“Heavens, there are so many people here—I can barely breathe!” Valitu swallowed hard.

Ulf also clenched his fists, not daring to look outside. Olaf, however, laughed and turned to observe everyone’s discomfort. Noticing Pikku trembling, he teased, “Pikku, are you afraid of crowds too?”

“Young master, it’s terrifying,” Pikku shrank into his arms, his voice shaking.

Olaf thought, If you saw the crowds during the Golden Week holidays, you’d go mad.

“Don’t be afraid; crowds are nothing to worry about.” Olaf chuckled lightly. “Don’t be scared. Look around and get used to it.”

“You’re not afraid?” Ulf looked at Olaf in surprise.

“Of course not.” Olaf smiled, pointing outside. “You should take a good look at this scene. People are the foundation of a nation’s strength and prosperity. This bustling crowd, this constant flow of people—how prosperous, how intoxicating.”

Ulf followed Olaf’s gesture, gazing outward, and pondered his words. For a moment, he felt like an outsider, watching people buy fruits and vegetables, dried fish, seeing guards arrest thieves, and children begging their parents for street pastries.

After a long while, Ulf snapped back to reality and sighed, “Yes, this is how people should live. This prosperity surpasses Iceland tenfold, a thousand times more than our Vinland.”

“But one day, our Vinland will be as prosperous, wealthy, and bustling as Amsterdam.”

Ulf’s eyes gradually grew determined, and he began to look outside with interest.

Olaf’s heart skipped a beat as he pondered: Father Haldor and my elder brother Ulf both possess extraordinary heroic spirit, far surpassing ordinary people. Yet, historically, they achieved nothing notable and lived ordinary, uneventful lives before leaving Iceland. Does this mean that even heroes need the right opportunity and platform? There’s a saying that ‘the times make the hero.’ Does it mean that even heroes, without the right chance or stage, will remain obscure?

Did my arrival help my father and brother, or did they help me?

After much thought, only one line of poetry echoed in Olaf’s mind, filling him with renewed vigor:

“A golden carp is no fish for a pond—when the winds and clouds gather, it becomes a dragon.”

Chapter 21: The Bank

The carriage stopped in front of the bank, its whitewashed walls gleaming under the sunlight. The coachman, speaking in broken Danish, announced, “We’ve arrived at the bank, sir.”

Ulf tossed the coachman seven or eight copper coins before they all disembarked.

As Olaf stepped down, he glanced at the honest and unassuming coachman, a flicker of curiosity in his mind. Why was this seventeenth-century cab driver so taciturn, unlike the chatty drivers of later eras? Was it the living environment or the religious culture?

Yet, the coachman, a Dutchman, could speak simple Danish and English, which suggested that Amsterdam was teeming with foreign merchants. This was the hallmark of a seventeenth-century international metropolis.

Olaf was generally pleased with what he had seen and heard in Amsterdam. The city had exceeded his expectations—clean streets, bustling commerce, and rational urban planning. If this was the pinnacle of seventeenth-century urban development, then it already possessed the fundamental traits of a modern city.

Pondering this, Olaf followed Ulf through the bank’s entrance. The bank was a two-story classical building with a marble facade and an elegant glass door.

Upon entering, they saw two rows of long benches in the lobby. At the far end stood a tall counter, behind which sat several male bank employees in jackets, their shirt collars visible. The benches were occupied by many people, and the counter was crowded with customers.

A young gentleman in white gloves approached them, smiling as he spoke in fluent Latin, “Gentlemen, how may I assist you?”

Before the Reformation, Latin had been the lingua franca of civilized nations centered around Catholicism. It was the common language of Europe, spoken and written by the educated across all nations.

Ulf had attended a church school for several years, so he understood the gentleman’s words and replied in Latin, “We are here to deposit money.”

“Ah,” the gentleman said, eyeing the sturdy white slaves tightly clutching the money chests. Years of experience told him that the weight of those chests was not silver coins. Five chests of gold coins were no small sum—even in a week, the bank might not see such a large deposit.

“Sir, please follow me to the second floor,” the gentleman said warmly, leading Ulf and the others upstairs. He then gestured to the sofas on the second floor. “Please have a seat. These are the new soft upholstered chairs—we call them sofas. Gentlemen, make yourselves comfortable while I handle your transaction.”

“Good day, sir. I am Frederik Coyett, an assistant manager at the Amsterdam Bank. How much would you like to deposit, and what denomination of notes would you prefer?”

Seated in the second-floor booth, Coyett introduced himself before inquiring about Ulf’s needs.

Ulf placed the money chests on the table in front of Coyett and said, “This is roughly worth one thousand gold marks in pounds and Swedish kronor. Please exchange it for notes in Dutch guilders.”

“Very well, sir. The Dutch guilder is only available in silver coins. Twenty Dutch guilders equal one pound, and one gold mark is approximately one hundred and ten Dutch guilders. Let me first verify your gold coins.” As he spoke, Coyett elegantly opened the chests, sorting and counting the various coins. For those he was unsure of, he weighed them on a scale. Finally, he used a charcoal stick to calculate on paper for a while before saying, “You have five thousand six hundred and eighty-seven pounds, which converts to one hundred and thirteen thousand seven hundred and forty Dutch guilders. I will now prepare your receipt. Would you like checks?”

Ulf asked about the purpose of checks and then nodded, saying, “Issue two, please.”

The Amsterdam Bank currently only offered deposit and currency exchange services, charging a fee of one to five thousandths of the transaction during exchanges. The lending services of later banks had not yet emerged, so deposits did not earn interest. In this regard, it was actually less advanced than the draft banks of the Far East’s Celestial Empire.

Similarly, since banking was a new industry, the checks of this era were not standardized but did have withdrawal functions.

Coyett took out beautifully patterned paper, stamped it with the bank’s official seal, and wrote his name and the check numbers with a goose quill dipped in ink.

“The check amounts are blank, so you may fill them in as needed, but they cannot exceed your deposit. A fee of five ten-thousandths will be charged when withdrawing money.” After blowing the ink dry, Coyett handed Ulf two checks and a deposit certificate, all of which required Ulf’s signature.

The original deposit certificate bore Ulf’s signature, meaning that anyone presenting it to withdraw money would have to replicate the exact handwriting and name from the original document.

Checks, however, did not require this. As long as the amount and signature were filled in, anyone could come to the bank to withdraw the money, provided the name and handwriting on the check matched those on the original certificate.

Checks were used by merchants to purchase large quantities of goods, streamlining the payment process. Currently, they could only be used in Amsterdam.

Coyett rang a small copper bell on the desk, and several burly men immediately appeared to carry away the gold coins. He then smiled and said, “It has been a pleasure serving you, sir. May I have your name?”

“Ulf Haldorsson,” Ulf replied with a smile, returning the compliment. “You are a refined gentleman. I believe your achievements will not be limited to a mere bank assistant.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” Coyett said with a smile. He couldn’t help but add, “Actually, I will be leaving Holland next month. The bank manager has recommended me for a transfer to the East India Company. I will be going to the Spice Islands in the East Indies to assist the governor of Batavia in managing the spice trade. So, your insight is quite accurate.”

“That is truly congratulatory,” Ulf said, shaking Coyett’s hand.

Olaf suddenly remembered the Dutch governor who, thirty years later, would lose to Koxinga and retreat from Taiwan. He was also named Coyett. So, he said, “Mr. Coyett, you will certainly achieve great things in the Far East. However, I have heard that the Ming Dynasty of the Far East is extremely powerful, with a land area and population nearly as large as all of Europe combined. I have also heard that Portugal once attempted to invade the Ming Dynasty but was soundly defeated. Therefore, I believe that any nation seeking to develop in the Far East must show respect to the Ming Dynasty. What do you think?”

“You are?” Coyett found Olaf’s words quite intriguing, as in Europe, only employees or shareholders of the East India Company knew that porcelain and silk came from the Ming Dynasty. Many still followed the Arab tradition of calling it “Khitans.”

“This is my brother, Olaf,” Ulf introduced with a smile. “Olaf is friends with Mr. Hongrode of the Danish East India Company and is quite knowledgeable about the Far East.”

“Ah,” Coyett nodded, warmly shaking Olaf’s hand before whispering, “Mr. Olaf, you don’t look old enough to be of age, but your insight is both unique and accurate. I have heard that several governors in the Far East have tried to open trade with the Ming Dynasty, but they have maintained a maritime ban. Countries under their influence, like Korea and Japan, have done the same. Even if we wanted to befriend the people of the Ming Dynasty, we couldn’t.”

“Then, may I ask if you know of anyone in your country’s East India Company who shares your name?” Olaf asked again to confirm.

“Not that I know of,” Coyett replied, looking at Olaf with a hint of confusion.

Olaf smiled slightly and finally said, “Perhaps I am speaking out of turn, but Mr. Coyett, you are indeed a gentleman. My brother and I would like to be your friends, so I must advise you: unless absolutely necessary, do not invade the territories of the Ming Dynasty, especially the island of Taiwan. The pirates and navy of the Ming Dynasty will not tolerate it.”

Chapter 22: Grain

Kuiyi inwardly dismissed Olaf’s words, but he could tell that the young man was genuinely advising him. Moreover, Olaf, despite his youth, had remarkable insight, and his brother had deposited over a hundred thousand Dutch guilders in the bank—clearly a noble from the north. Judging by their accents, they were likely from Denmark or Norway. Perhaps they would be useful in the future.

With that thought, Kuiyi nodded and smiled. “Thank you for your advice, Mr. Olaf. I will keep it in mind.”

Olaf knew his casual remark wouldn’t stop Kuiyi from pursuing the governorship of Taiwan, but he was confident that his insights on the Far East would make Kuiyi take him seriously. That was enough.

“Mr. Kuiyi, if you return home next year to visit your family, I hope you can bring back some specialties from the Ming Dynasty for me. Price is no object.”

“No problem. Please provide a list, Mr. Olaf. I will look for them when I arrive in Batavia next month.”

Kuiyi took out paper and a pen and handed them to Olaf.

Olaf wrote down the names of blue-and-white porcelain tea sets, tableware, and other items in Latin. He also listed medicinal herbs like isatis root and honeysuckle, specifying quantities in the hundreds of pounds. Besides porcelain and medicine, he included three books—by Li Shizhen, Xu Guangqi, and Song Yingxing—writing both the authors’ names and titles in Latin and simplified Chinese before handing the list to Kuiyi.

Kuiyi glanced at it and praised Olaf’s vast knowledge, marveling that he could even write such complex Eastern characters. He promised to find the items as soon as possible. The two agreed to meet again at the bank next April to complete the transaction. If either couldn’t attend, they would send a representative with a signed note.

After settling their business, Ulf asked Kuiyi about the grain market. Kuiyi recommended a highly reputable grain merchant and personally escorted Olaf, Ulf, and the others out of the bank.

Olaf and Ulf left the bank with ease and followed Kuiyi’s directions, walking until they reached the area near Rembrandt Garden. There, they saw a massive warehouse. In front of it was an artificial circular canal. Laborers unloaded sacks of wheat, rye, and other grains from small boats on one side, then transported them to the central gate before carrying them into the warehouse. Most of the goods, however, were already milled flour.

On the other side of the canal, boats lined up to transport grain.

Ulf gazed at the bustling crowd in front of the grain market and exclaimed in awe, “This Bade Grain Market is enormous! I don’t think all the grain in Iceland could match what they have here.”

Olaf watched the laboring white men, their spirits high, and realized this was the power of capital. Everyone involved had something to gain, giving them hope for the future and passion for life. It was this very force that had allowed tiny Holland to rise to global dominance in just a few decades.

As they approached the grain market, a young apprentice greeted them with a smile before they could even speak.

Ulf and Olaf couldn’t help but admire the Dutch business acumen. Holland’s rapid rise was no accident—it was built on sharp commercial instincts.

In truth, Dutch merchants weren’t particularly courteous compared to modern salespeople, but they were at least enthusiastic, smiling, and mindful of business quality. Compared to the Dutch, Ulf and Olaf felt Icelandic merchants fell far short. If there was a professional code for Icelandic merchants, it would be: “Please do not assault customers without cause.”

Vikings carried axes in their left hands, knives in their right, with wine and gold in their pockets and battle songs and epics in their minds.

Icelanders, descendants of Vikings, were no longer as savage. Now, they carried axes in their left hands and hoes in their right, with wine and hides in their pockets and sagas and children in their minds.

Ulf stated his need for large quantities of flour, and the apprentice quickly led them inside, shouting in Dutch. A plump, elderly man approached, speaking broken Danish. “Ah, two young masters! I’m the owner of Bade Grain Market. You can call me Old Bade. I hear you need a lot of flour.”

“Yes, Old Bade,” Ulf said, gesturing to the mountains of grain in the warehouse. “Mr. Kuiyi from the bank recommended you. I need twenty thousand pounds of rye flour, ten thousand pounds each of wheat and barley flour, and another ten thousand pounds of unhusked barley, wheat, and rye.”

“That’s quite a lot,” Old Bade replied. “But I have what you need. Since you were referred by Kuiyi, I’ll give you a discount. How about this: rye flour at ten stuivers per pound, wheat flour at twelve, and barley flour at nine.”

Old Bade’s rapid pricing made Ulf agree on the spot. They drafted a contract, stipulating that Old Bade would pay the taxes, and each kept a copy.

Though Olaf wasn’t concerned with grain prices, he found Bade’s offer reasonable. In Iceland, a pound of rye flour cost nearly twenty copper coins. The stuiver was a Dutch copper coin, with an exchange rate of about forty to one Dutch guilder. Nine guilders were roughly equivalent to one mark, and in Iceland, one mark was worth over two hundred Danish copper coins or three hundred and sixty stuivers. Calculating the numbers, shipping grain to Iceland could yield a gross profit of seventy to eighty percent. Even after expenses, the net profit would exceed thirty percent.

The grain trade showed that seafaring was a venture of both risk and reward.

Ulf handed Old Bade a check for twelve thousand two hundred guilders.

Old Bade examined it carefully before tucking it away. “Do you need the goods urgently? If not, I can clear the check at the bank tomorrow and arrange delivery. Which dock is your ship at?”

“Not urgent. We haven’t sold our goods yet. You can deliver the day after tomorrow,” Ulf said after a moment’s thought. “Our ship is at Dock 21. Just ask for me, Ulf. If I’m not there, look for a Mr. Haig—he’s my uncle.”

“Understood, Mr. Ulf. You northerners—”

Chapter 23: Windmills

Amsterdam was a city crisscrossed by rivers and man-made canals, where goods were transported by boats large and small, making trade exceptionally convenient.

The most bustling area was the southern district, while the northern region was relatively remote. Due to its remoteness, commerce was underdeveloped, but it was home to numerous small workshops, forming the beginnings of an industrial park.

As Olaf walked along, he noticed many workshops producing ship supplies and components, as well as others crafting fishing gear and nets. These were the backbone industries of Holland, naturally stimulating the growth of related processing trades.

Entering the courtyard, Valitu called out loudly, “Is anyone here? Is Master Troy around?”

“Who’s there?”

A deep, hoarse voice responded, and an elderly man covered in wood shavings emerged from a room.

Upon seeing Ulf and the others, the old man spoke in Dutch, German, and English, but no one understood. Olaf replied in Danish and Latin.

The old man sighed in relief and spoke in broken Danish, “Ah, friends from the north. Are you here for windmills? I’ve built over a dozen windmill workshops on the Jutland Peninsula in Denmark.”

The Jutland Peninsula was in northern Germany but belonged to Denmark, the largest landmass in the country, bordering the North Sea to the west. The cold currents from the North Sea kept the western coast windy year-round, so Denmark had built many windmills there to harness the wind.

Valitu, who had been to Denmark, quietly explained this to Olaf and Ulf, who then understood why Master Troy had been invited by the Danish authorities to build windmills—he was truly a master.

“Master Troy, we’d like to purchase a windmill and a waterwheel to take back and install ourselves. Would you be able to make them?” Olaf asked politely.

Troy seemed unfazed, not surprised that a young man like Olaf was speaking for the group. He smiled kindly and said, “Young master, I can make both, but you’ll need to provide specifications—size, for example. However, I worry that if you take the equipment back and install it improperly, you might blame me for selling you faulty goods.”

“We just need the standard windmills like those along the Dutch coast. If you’re concerned about installation, could you instruct my servants? I’d be happy to pay extra for your guidance.” After a brief discussion with Ulf, Olaf replied.

Troy considered for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But making two sets will take ten days. During that time, you can have your men learn in my workshop, though I can’t guarantee they’ll master it.”

“That’s fine,” Olaf said with a smile. “Thank you for your generosity.”

After some negotiation, Ulf and Troy settled on two waterwheel mills and two windmill sets for sixteen thousand Dutch guilders.

Troy explained that purchasing materials—wood, iron, and processed parts—would require upfront payment.

In this era, buyers rarely provided advances since demand outweighed supply.

Ulf had no choice but to agree. Troy then sent an apprentice to fetch an assistant from the Windmill Guild to witness the transaction. After signing the commission agreement—with the guild assistant also signing—Ulf paid the sixteen thousand guilders by check.

The contract was made in triplicate. Unlike grain, which was in high demand, windmills weren’t taxed, saving Ulf a considerable sum.

Among the white slaves on the ship, three or four had carpentry or masonry skills—common among the poor, who often had multiple trades. Olaf and Ulf planned to send them to learn from Troy to avoid installation problems back in Vinland.

By the time they returned to the dock, it was afternoon. The distant church bells marked the fourth hour, with dusk approaching in half an hour.

Olaf remembered that Amsterdam should have the most advanced self-striking clocks, so he decided to visit a shop the next day to buy a few. He had grown tired of estimating time and missed the precision of clocks.

On their way back, Olaf, Ulf, and the others stopped at a restaurant for pork pies and boiled mussels, so they weren’t too hungry when they returned to the ship.

Hrutik and Haig were already aboard. Olaf and Ulf reported the day’s events, and Hrutik nodded in approval. “You’ve done well. You’re truly capable—just like Haldor’s sons.”

Haig also praised them before adding, “Hrutik and I have finished the paperwork. Our furs and royal jelly are now listed for sale. I expect buyers will come tomorrow—beaver pelts are in high demand.”

As if on cue, a man’s voice called out in Danish from outside, “Are Mr. Haig and Mr. Hrutik here? I’m a friend of Mr. Putmans, here to purchase goods.”

Haig and Hrutik hurried outside, and Ulf asked, “Who’s Putmans?”

Hrutik replied casually, “He’s the exchange manager. When we got our tax permits, he learned we were selling beaver pelts and said he’d send buyers. Didn’t expect it to be so quick.”

Soon, Haig and Hrutik returned with a man in a dark green wool coat.

“Mr. Kolank, please sit,” Haig invited, taking a seat himself.

“I heard from Mr. Putmans that you have beaver pelts. May I see them? If the quality is good, I’d like to buy them all.”

Kolank, who appeared to be in his forties with a weathered face, asked eagerly as soon as he sat down.

His manner and appearance suggested he was an agent for someone important. Haig and Hrutik suspected he might work for Putmans, but regardless, a buyer was a buyer.

“Just a moment.” Haig nodded and instructed Pikku to fetch a beaver pelt, along with river otter, wolf, and other furs.

Soon, Pikku and a white slave sailor entered with the pelts. Kolank couldn’t resist standing up to take the beaver pelt, feeling its texture and smelling it.

“This is fresh this year—excellent quality.” Kolank then examined the river otter and wolf pelts, praising them repeatedly.

Setting the furs aside, Kolank returned to his seat, his expression serious as he asked Haig, “Mr. Haig, your beaver pelts are of fine quality, though the tanning is a bit rough. Still, they’re premium. How much do you have?”

“Forty-four beaver pelts, thirty river otter pelts, thirty sable pelts, six bear pelts, twelve white wolf pelts, sixteen fox pelts, and fifty-two squirrel pelts.”

Haig listed their inventory before asking, “What price can you offer, Mr. Kolank?”

“I’d like to purchase at last year’s rates. In Amsterdam, beaver pelts usually go for around four hundred Dutch guilders—already higher than elsewhere. But with beaver pelts growing scarcer, I can offer four hundred sixty guilders. River otter pelts, however, will be lower.”

Chapter 24: Good Things Don’t Worry About Selling

Kolank, true to his reputation as an old merchant, wore a face of honesty and integrity. He skillfully guided the negotiation, offering a fair price. In truth, furs of this quality in Amsterdam could easily fetch five hundred Dutch guilders, but Haig and his companions didn’t want to waste too much time. After some mental calculations, they agreed that four hundred and sixty guilders was already higher than what the governor of Dublin and Lord Bowes had offered.

“Alright, sir, we’ll take your price,” Haig said after consulting with Ulf and Hrutik.

“May God bless you, sir. You truly are an excellent merchant and sailor,” Kolank praised Haig without pause, then took out checks and contracts to fill in.

After Haig signed and confirmed everything, Kolank took a copy of the contract and tucked it into his waist pouch. “Tomorrow morning is Friday, and the bank will be open. Please confirm the check is valid and wait on the ship. I will personally bring people to collect the goods in the morning.”

Haig glanced at the string of zeros on the check, nodded, and smiled. “A deal worth two hundred and twenty thousand guilders—no room for carelessness. As long as the check can be cashed tomorrow morning, delivering it to your residence won’t be a problem.”

“Rest assured, sir. The reputation of Kolank Trading House is well-known throughout Holland. We would never do anything dishonorable,” Kolank said solemnly.

“Yes, Kolank Trading House has always had a good reputation,” Haig agreed casually, then remembered that merchants as capable as Kolank were rare. If they didn’t seize this opportunity, the royal jelly might take much longer to sell. So, he recommended, “Our royal jelly is also a top-tier delicacy with medicinal value. Would you like some?”

“Oh?” Kolank raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “I’ve always been curious about royal jelly. Since you’ve brought it up, let me take a look.”

Pikku brought over half a jar of “royal jelly”—the leftover half from when Olaf and Ulf had mixed it with sugar water to drink.

When the lid was lifted, a sweet and fragrant aroma wafted out. Kolank smiled. “May I taste it?”

“Of course,” Haig said, handing him a spoon.

“Delicious. This royal jelly is indeed different from ordinary honey. The fragrance is unique—I’ve never tasted anything like it. I think it will appeal to important figures,” Kolank said after a bite. He wiped the spoon clean with a handkerchief and returned it to Haig. “Where does royal jelly come from? And what’s the price per gallon?”

Haig looked at Olaf, who gave him a subtle nod. Following Olaf’s lead, Haig presented the “royal jelly” as a rare delicacy with mysterious, primitive origins, pricing it similarly to white sugar from the Celestial Empire.

Since white sugar was currently only produced in the Ming Dynasty, it was a rare and precious sweet in Europe, far more expensive than honey.

“Alright, if royal jelly is a treasure from Siberia, it’s worth the price,” Kolank mused for a while before nodding. “But royal jelly is still a new product. It will take time to open up the market and gain recognition. If you could lower the price by a third, I’d be willing to buy more.”

Olaf had originally planned to sell it at the price of honey, so two-thirds the price of white sugar was actually slightly higher than honey. After some thought, he nodded at Haig.

“Alright. I have about forty to fifty jars on my ship right now.”

“I’ll take them all,” Kolank said.

After Haig agreed, they finalized another contract.

This time, the check was for sixty thousand Dutch guilders, worth three thousand pounds.

After Kolank left, Haig handed the check to Olaf and said, “Selling the royal jelly alone has earned you seven thousand pounds, kid. Tsk, tsk, that’s quite something.”

Olaf’s heart raced. He knew that seven thousand pounds in this era wasn’t like a few hundred years later—it was seven thousand pounds of solid silver.

Seven thousand pounds equaled over seventy thousand taels of silver in the Ming Dynasty, nearly eighty thousand. While this might be pocket change to the truly wealthy in the Ming Dynasty or Europe, it was equivalent to the entire fortune of a small merchant.

Twenty-eight years ago, when England first established the East India Company, its capital was only seventy-two thousand pounds, raised by over a hundred investors. Of course, each investor contributed only a small amount, but this showed the significant value of seven thousand pounds.

After all, a cow cost only four pounds, a purebred Shire horse less than nine pounds, and a villa in central London only three to four thousand pounds. Of course, there was no concept of real estate speculation yet, so prices weren’t high.

No matter how you looked at it, Olaf’s earnings this time were equivalent to what Haldor could have made from farming and herding in Iceland for twenty or thirty years.

Luxury goods were always the most profitable.

Satisfied with his income, Olaf added another procurement plan to his original one.

Originally, Olaf had planned to make his first fortune with maple syrup, then use the money to buy a ship and a few dozen white slaves—a budget of about four thousand marks. But now, with over thirteen thousand marks, Olaf thought it might be better to buy an armed merchant ship and some cannons, giving himself some firepower.

The next morning, Haig took Olaf to the bank. After waiting about as long as it took a candle to burn, they reached the counter. Both checks were confirmed valid and then re-deposited into Haig’s account.

Haig then requested ten more checks before leaving with Olaf.

Back at the ship, they ran into Kolank waiting with servants and vehicles. After a brief exchange, they began loading the furs and royal jelly. Once Kolank left, Old Bade arrived with several carts of grain.

By then, Ulf had returned. That morning, he had taken sailors to learn how to assemble and manufacture windmills from Troy. After a quick trip, he was back.

Seeing the sun high in the sky, Ulf estimated it was nearly noon. Since the sailors were busy unloading grain, Olaf and Hrutik went to the shipyard to buy a ship.

The shipyards along the Dutch docks were countless. Beyond the mooring area, heading north across the bridge and then east, they saw a large river—the Zaan River. To the west, it connected to Amsterdam’s intricate canals and the grand canal leading to the North Sea.

On the north bank stood rows of large factories, most with their doors wide open. Some even had nearly completed wooden ships pulled outside. From the outside, they could see windmills and towering winches inside the shipyards. Only after entering did Olaf realize that the windmills used coastal winds to power sawmills for cutting timber into ship planks.

Buying a ship was no small matter. They visited four or five shipyards, asking about their offerings, which were mostly similar. However, ready-made ships were scarce, and the few available were too small for Haig’s needs.

If they ordered a custom ship, even with materials on hand, it would take at least three days. Without materials, it could take over ten days.

After making the rounds, Haig decided to wait for the best. After some discussion, they chose De Groot Shipyard, a mid-sized but large-scale operation.

The reason they chose De Groot Shipyard was that while other shipyards boasted about building merchant ships for the Dutch and British East India Companies, De Groot’s staff told Haig and his group that their chief shipbuilder, Henrik Habert, was currently in Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, building a warship for “The Lion of the North,” King Gustavus Adolphus II.

That ship was the Vasa, the flagship of the Swedish navy, which would lead Sweden to defeat Poland and Denmark, dominating the Baltic Sea.

With this example in mind, they naturally chose De Groot Shipyard for their warship. Haig paid a deposit of thirty-eight thousand Dutch guilders, ordering three armed merchant ships and one mixed-rigged merchant ship—one of the armed merchant ships was for Olaf.

Chapter 25: Visiting the Big Shot

Holland’s shipbuilding technology currently leads the world. The same ship would cost thirty to forty percent more to build in London or Denmark than in Amsterdam, due to differences in labor and technology.

Additionally, the design and ease of use of Dutch ships make them the most numerous. A large ship of the same displacement would require seventeen or eighteen sailors in England or Denmark, but only twelve in Holland. Thus, even merchants from major shipbuilding nations like England and Denmark come to Holland to order ships to save money. This is Holland’s core competitive advantage.

After ordering the ships, Haig inquired about cannons, preparing to equip two armed merchant vessels with cannon firearms.

The shipyard owner, Mr. Arent de Groot, informed Haig that the shipyard was not authorized to sell firearms or cannons. However, he quietly added that any director of the East India Company could sell Haig cannons and firearms, and he could arrange an introduction—but this would require a significant amount of money.

“In Holland, there’s nothing you can’t buy.”

De Groot’s words made Haig, Ulf, and the others understand. They then asked him to arrange the introduction.

That afternoon, De Groot took Haig around the southern district of Amsterdam, spending over a thousand Dutch guilders on porcelain and paintings, which he then sent out. Finally, one family responded—a director of the East India Company responsible for personnel scheduling. He only had time the next morning, so Haig would have to visit him then.

Getting this matter settled relieved Haig and the others. They knew that if all went well, this director’s word would make acquiring the cannons, firearms, plate armor, and other weapons and equipment they needed no problem at all.

The next morning, Haig and Hrutik put on presentable frock coats and top hats, bringing four sailor servants and gifts of sable fur, and followed De Groot to visit the East India Company director.

Since the furs in the ship’s hold were expensive, they had sold all the intact ones, leaving only a few severely damaged pelts from hunting that weren’t worth much. Haig had planned to take these back to give to his sister-in-law and other relatives as scarves. Now, for the visit to the important figure, he had selected the best sable pelt and three squirrel pelts to bring along.

While Haig and Hrutik went to visit the big shot, Ulf and Olaf led the others to buy pottery jars, fabrics, wool, stationery, leather, and various materials, as well as needles, thread, kitchenware, and other household items. They also purchased seeds for various fruits, vegetables, and grains.

After buying several cartloads of miscellaneous goods, they spent less than three thousand Dutch guilders.

Passing by a musical instrument shop, Olaf saw a young girl playing a square-shaped instrument, the melodious music soothing the soul.

Upon inquiry, he learned it was a horizontal harp, like the vertical harp, both traditional Nordic instruments, but now with very few players. Olaf took notice because, at first glance, this square-shaped harp somewhat resembled traditional Chinese instruments like the guzheng or guqin.

Watching…

Chapter 26: Journey to Scotland

After the group settled into the cabin, Olaf asked, “What did you all buy, Uncle?”

“Thirty-six 32-pound cannons, eighteen 9-pound cannons, three hundred firelock muskets, five hundred sets of plate armor, over a hundred bows and crossbows, five hundred each of knives, swords, and long spears, and more than two hundred crates of ammunition. The cannons and plate armor were the most expensive—they’re all made of pure iron,” Hrutik recited from the first purchase order he pulled from his pocket, then sighed.

“These cannons should be enough for three armed merchant ships. Heavy cannons for direct attacks, light cannons for harassment. And the firelock muskets and plate armor—quite the arsenal,” Olaf marveled at Haig and Hrutik’s extravagance.

“That’s way too expensive,” Ulf fretted over the dwindling funds.

“It’s not that expensive,” Haig grinned. “Mr. Fransen said the cannons are new, but a lot of the other weapons and gear are used—leftovers from Dutch soldiers. They’re still usable, just a bit worn. If it weren’t for the peace with Spain, they wouldn’t be selling them so cheap.”

“Still, over two hundred thousand Dutch guilders…”

Ulf couldn’t help but wince. Olaf frowned and said, “We need to set up our own weapons production line someday. Relying on purchases isn’t sustainable.”

“That’s thinking too far ahead for now,” Hrutik muttered, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of hope.

Olaf nodded. “You’re right. Let’s focus on building our strength first.”

Ulf’s miscellaneous supplies weren’t fully loaded until the next afternoon. Olaf and Ulf spent the day wandering Amsterdam’s markets, where they saw gypsy fortune-tellers and magicians, Arab snake charmers and monkey trainers, and other curiosities.

They also spotted goods from the Far East—familiar to Olaf, though the porcelain was crude and the fabric patterns unrefined. Clearly, these were low-end imports.

Nine days later, Troy arrived with his apprentices, delivering windmill and watermill components to the dock, along with a hand-drawn installation diagram for Ulf.

“Your sailors may be slow, but they’re diligent. They can build the windmills and watermills using this diagram.”

On the tenth evening, an armed merchant ship entered the harbor near Thor’s Hammer.

A group of hurried figures in black cloaks stood on the deck.

Haig and Hrutik, hearing the commotion, grabbed their weapons and rushed out with the crew. Upon seeing the ship’s occupants, they paused, waving flags in a brief exchange. A cloaked figure on the other ship responded with a flag signal.

“It’s the delivery,” Haig sighed in relief, then directed the crew to set up a plank.

A man emerged from the cloaks, spoke briefly with Haig, and then the crew began unloading massive, heavy crates from the hold.

It took over a dozen men to carry a single crate, and only two could be moved at a time. Haig and Hrutik pried each one open for inspection, finding firearms, plate armor, and other weapons—most of them brand new.

“Load them onto our ship.”

The crew carried the crates across the plank onto Thor’s Hammer. After unloading over a dozen large crates of weapons, the cloaked figures brought out another thirty or forty smaller ones. These were lighter.

Haig opened one and recognized the iron cannons he had purchased. The 36-pound cannons weighed six to seven hundred pounds each, and with wheels, they were even heavier. The 9-pound cannons were much lighter.

By the time the crew finished loading the cannons and ammunition, it was the dead of night. The only sounds were the waves crashing against the hull.

The cloaked leader emerged, followed Haig into the cabin, and by candlelight, accepted a check for two hundred and fifty thousand Dutch guilders before nodding and leaving.

Haig and Hrutik sent the crew to bed, then spent a long time examining the cannons before finally retiring.

The next morning, Haig personally piloted the ship to the northern shore of the harbor, sailing into the Zaan River and docking at De Groot Shipyard.

De Groot’s men used pulleys to lower the cannons, preparing to install them in the gunports of the armed merchant ships.

Haig oversaw the near-completion of the four new ships, while Ulf and Olaf went to purchase goods. After spending so much on ships and weapons, they couldn’t afford to return from Scotland empty-handed.

Of Haig’s three hundred and fifty thousand guilders, after buying food, windmills, watermills, and weapons, less than seventy thousand remained. The two armed merchant ships and one mixed-rigged schooner cost fifty-five thousand guilders, and the remaining twenty thousand for the third armed merchant ship came from Olaf.

So Haig was left with only fifteen thousand guilders. Seeing his uncle’s predicament, Olaf lent him most of his seven thousand pounds, allowing Haig to send Ulf to buy goods.

Thor’s Hammer was loaded with weapons, while Hope carried a full ship of grain. The remaining four new ships—three armed merchant ships of similar size to Hope and Thor’s Hammer—had their cargo space reduced by a third due to the cannons, significantly lowering their capacity.

The mixed-rigged schooner was smaller than the large ships, primarily for fishing and coastal transport. Ulf bought it for convenience in Vinland—it would make fishing easier and allow river travel inland, serving as a fast transport and troop carrier against the savages.

For around fifty thousand guilders, Ulf bought one hundred pounds of first-grade spices and two hundred and seventy pounds of second-grade spices.

He spent another fifty thousand guilders on large quantities of hemp textiles, beer, and twenty sacks of sugar.

The five thousand pounds were spent clean, and the remaining funds bought enough fresh water and food for the five ships’ crews. When Ulf returned the money bag to Haig, it contained only eight thousand guilders in silver coins from the Amsterdam Bank—heavy with silver but worth only four hundred pounds.

On the morning of June 2nd, after all preparations were complete, Haig submitted the tax permit and had the exchange staff verify the contracts and port documents, obtaining the departure papers. After handing them to the port authorities, he received a transit pass. The five ships, under the command of Haig, Ulf, Hrutik, Hilt, and Valitu, slowly left the harbor, heading north out of Amsterdam’s inland sea.

Near the West Frisian Islands, Dutch ships blocked their path, allowing only departures from the port of Den Helder. This was the only northern gateway to Amsterdam, effectively a Dutch checkpoint.

The five large ships were stopped at Den Helder, where a Dutch naval officer inspected their departure papers before allowing them to proceed—a measure to prevent tax evasion and smuggling.

With Hope leading, the three armed merchant ships formed an arrowhead formation behind, encircling Thor’s Hammer and the mixed-rigged schooner.

After clearing the Den Helder checkpoint, the fleet entered the North Sea, adjusted course, and set full sail. The wind filled the sails, propelling the ships northwest at high speed.

By noon the next day, the fleet reached the Firth of Forth on Scotland’s east coast—a large, trumpet-shaped bay. About a hundred nautical miles west lay Edinburgh, the former capital of the Kingdom of Scotland and now the capital of the Scottish region under the United Kingdom of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Chapter 27: Scottish White Slaves

Edinburgh was an ancient city with centuries of history as a royal capital. The entire city radiated outward from the royal castle at its heart in a spiderweb pattern, stretching north to the harbor and east, west, and south to the highland forests.

After the fleet entered Edinburgh’s harbor, they docked under the guidance of the flag bearer. Port authority officials then questioned the crew about their purpose and origins. Upon learning they intended to sell goods, the officials led Haig to the authority’s office to register and obtain a tax permit.

With all formalities completed, the fleet could now list their goods for sale at the Edinburgh Exchange. Haig and Ulf went to the exchange to find merchants willing to buy their wares, while Hrutik took a few men to seek out Scottish landowners in Edinburgh, planning to recruit several dozen Scottish white slaves.

Given Ireland’s current state, securing one or two thousand people would have been effortless. The people in northern Ireland were struggling to survive, and many were actively seeking opportunities to leave by sea. However, Haldor and Haig were no fools. They feared that if too many Irish white slaves were brought in, they might band together, refusing to cooperate, demanding better treatment, or even overthrowing their leaders.

To counterbalance the Irish white slaves and maintain a power equilibrium, they needed to recruit some Scottish white slaves as well.

Olaf had heard Haldor, Haig, and Ulf discussing this very issue by the fireplace during the harsh winter. He had always agreed with their reasoning.

Currently, Vinland had over two hundred white slaves, with around one hundred fifty being Irish and only about thirty Scottish. Haig and Ulf, with the help of four or five Icelanders they had brought from home and a dozen white slave militiamen, managed over two hundred white slaves and two hundred savages without any issues. This was largely because the number of white slaves was still small, and Haig, armed and fiercely tempered, treated his men generously, leaving the slaves with no rebellious thoughts.

But as the number of white slaves grew, there was no guarantee that some wouldn’t develop dangerous ideas. If the white slaves far outnumbered the handful of Icelanders and militiamen under Haig’s command, the situation could become perilous.

For this reason, Haig had always prioritized selecting white slaves who were family-oriented and honest.

Now, with Haldor bringing over a hundred Icelanders, the leadership’s strength had increased tenfold. With the support of Hrut Village, Haig estimated they could safely add five hundred to eight hundred more white slaves without threatening the Icelanders’ dominance.

However, to balance the power dynamics and prevent the white slaves from uniting based on shared homeland and kinship, they still needed to recruit some Scots. This would prevent Vinland’s social structure from being divided solely between the upper-class Icelanders and the lower-class Irish white slaves—a highly unstable arrangement that could easily lead to internal strife or even rebellion.

By incorporating more Scots, Vinland’s social hierarchy would consist of the Hrut family at the top, followed by the Icelandic elite, then the white slave militiamen, the Irish and Scottish white slaves, and finally the savage slaves at the bottom.

This stratification would reduce the likelihood of the Irish white slaves uniting, and if the Scottish and Irish white slaves were mixed into the same teams, even if the Irish were more numerous, they wouldn’t be able to form a cohesive bloc.

After listing their goods for sale, the fleet’s merchandise didn’t sell as well as hoped.

In a place as ordinary and even backward as Scotland, luxury items like spices and sugar weren’t in high demand. Each merchant only bought a small amount.

Moreover, Scottish merchants had limited resources. Even for staples like grain, beer, and linen, they could only afford purchases ranging from a few dozen to a couple hundred pounds.

Haig, Hrutik, and the others seemed prepared for this. Each day, one of them would go to the exchange to find buyers, while the rest waited patiently as various merchants boarded the ships to inspect the goods.

The mountains of cargo on the five large ships gradually dwindled. After three or four days of bustling activity, the diverse goods were finally sold off in batches to twenty-seven or twenty-eight Scottish merchants.

“Apart from the thirty thousand pounds of unhusked barley, wheat, and rye we kept for ourselves, all the other grain and beer has been sold. I did a quick calculation—we made a total of seven thousand eight hundred pounds, which means a profit of two thousand five hundred pounds.”

In the pilot house, Haig finished counting the gold and silver coins in the money chest and turned to Olaf with a smile. “Here’s your five thousand five hundred pounds, Uncle. I won’t take your money for nothing.”

Olaf had used the remaining five thousand pounds after buying the ship to lend to his uncle for purchasing goods. Now, he had earned a ten percent return. Grinning, he said, “I’ll treat everyone to a feast tonight. How about roast pig and roast lamb?”

“What a generous young master!” Pikku clapped and cheered, showering his master with praise.

“White slaves will be arriving tonight,” Haig said with a light chuckle. “Hrutik has already gone to select them. I’d say there’ll be around fifty or sixty households.”

Haig had always been ruthless toward the poor Scots and Irish. Olaf had long seen him as a cold-hearted hero who valued only his family, friends, and subordinates, so his uncle’s mocking words didn’t surprise him.

“I heard Hrutik say that in England, the West India Company often recruits farmers and poor city dwellers to go to the West Indies to seek their fortunes,” Valitu chimed in. “Their deceptive tactics are a hundred times worse than ours.”

“Is that true?” Hilt, an orphan from England, had always held an idealized view of his homeland. Valitu’s words were hard for him to accept.

“Of course it’s true. Hrutik heard it from the Scottish nobles themselves,” Valitu scoffed. “Little Hilt, you’re still young. You don’t understand how vile the nobility can be. Your Uncle Valitu wouldn’t lie to you.”

Soon, an hour passed. The self-striking clock in the pilot house, adorned with a saint’s image, chimed.

Olaf glanced at the time—six in the evening. The sky was gradually darkening.

In summer, England didn’t get truly dark until after seven, but the sun began to set around six.

Suddenly, two ornate carriages with intricate carvings appeared at the dock. The drivers were dressed impeccably, clearly from wealthy families.

Behind the carriages followed over a hundred Scots carrying bundles, their children in tow. The carriages came to a stop, and Hrutik, dressed in a worn but neatly pressed military uniform, stepped out of the first one. He then opened the door of the second carriage.

A short, obese man emerged from the second carriage. He sported a forked mustache that curled to the sides and carried a walking stick.

Haig and Ulf had already hurried down from the ship. Haig shook the short man’s hand and said with a smile, “Mr. Ramos, why did you come yourself?”

Olaf stood on the deck, quietly observing the scene at the harbor. Hearing Haig address the short man as Mr. Ramos, he recalled what Hrutik had told him earlier. Ramos was a local Scottish landowner and merchant who was eager to make money in any way possible. He had helped them coordinate with other landowners to recruit white slaves.

“I had to come myself. We’ve worked together many times, Haig. You’re a good friend of mine. How could I not come to oversee things?” Ramos said with a smile.

Haig, knowing the man’s true nature, sneered inwardly. You’re just afraid your servants will run off with the money. You don’t trust anyone with it.

“Hrutik, how many households is this?” Haig asked, turning to him.

“Sixty-six households, one hundred twenty-six people in total,” Hrutik replied without hesitation.

Haig nodded, then turned and ordered, “Valitu, go to the cabin and fetch two hundred sixty-four pounds.”

When Valitu returned with a money bag and handed it to Haig, Haig counted the money in front of everyone before giving it to Ramos.

Ramos weighed the bag in his hand and knew instantly that not a penny was missing. He then pulled out a stack of contracts from his coat. These were the signed indenture agreements of the one hundred twenty-six people, stating that they had voluntarily agreed to purchase passage to the West Indies but, lacking the funds, had agreed to work without pay for six years in exchange.

The signatures were mostly scrawled, illegible letters. Most of the farmers and poor were illiterate, and some could only write the initials of their names, while others could only manage a single letter. A few couldn’t write at all and had to have friends or family sign for them.

Unlike the Eastern practice of pressing a thumbprint, Westerners simply signed with letters.

By handing over these contracts, Ramos had effectively transferred the lives and management rights of the one hundred twenty-six people on the dock to Haig. In return, Haig had only paid Ramos two hundred sixty-four pounds and promised the white slaves a plot of land after their term of service.

“May God bless you, my friend,” Ramos said cheerfully as he pocketed the money bag. He shook Haig’s hand and then left in his carriage.

Chapter 28: The Return Journey

After Ramos left, only the Scottish white slaves, their master Haig, and several dozen sailors remained on the dock.

“Lads, friends, you’ve all been forced by circumstance to leave your homeland and seek a new life in the West Indies. You’ve placed your families’ futures in my hands, and I feel the weight of that responsibility. But I won’t let you down.”

Haig frowned at the uncertainty in the eyes of the Scottish white slaves before him. Stepping forward, he raised his voice in a speech: “I am Haig, one of the leaders of our future home. We went from Iceland to the West Indies and, after eight years of hard work, established a peaceful haven—a free homeland. You’ll be very satisfied when you arrive. I promise you this: as long as you work hard and follow our arrangements, your indentured status will be lifted on schedule. You might even gain your freedom early, along with land, livestock, and even savage slaves.”

As Haig finished speaking, the eyes of the male Scottish slaves began to flicker with faint flames of hope and ambition—a sign of their longing for the outside world and their rekindled confidence. The female slaves also seemed more lively, no longer clutching their children in fear.

Surveying the crowd, Haig said a few more encouraging words before pointing to a large ship ahead. “Friends, the ship that will take you to your new home in the West Indies is right there. The road to happiness lies ahead. Step forward for your future and board the ship.”

After Haig finished, Hrutik ordered the sailors to guide the Scottish slaves onto the ship. In less than half an hour, the dock was empty.

Since the three armed merchant ships were the core of their strength, Haig planned to house the white slaves on Thor’s Hammer, Hope, and the mixed-rigged schooner. If there wasn’t enough space, a few would be placed on the armed merchant ships.

Under Haig’s orders, over a hundred Scottish slaves were packed into Thor’s Hammer. Then, the five ships, loaded with fresh water and coarse grain, purchased a small amount of whisky—a new Scottish liquor—as well as locally produced coarse linen and various rough tools before setting sail.

The fleet sailed north in a wide arc before turning west through the North Sea strait between Britain and Ireland. They reached the mouth of the Foyle River in northern Ireland, then sailed south against the current into the port of Derry, just outside the city.

Derry was what would later become Londonderry, the capital of British Northern Ireland. At present, it was still underdeveloped and poor—even the crude, narrow port revealed the low city walls and houses in the distance.

Compared to Amsterdam and Dublin, Derry was much smaller and more dilapidated. At first glance, its prosperity was on par with Reykjavik in Iceland.

Olaf pondered in his mind: Amsterdam was like the water towns of Jiangnan—Suzhou and Hangzhou—with canals everywhere, its prosperity and commerce comparable to those two prefectures. Edinburgh resembled a northern military stronghold that had seen battle, while Dublin was like an ordinary prefecture in the Ming Dynasty. Though Olaf had never seen one, judging by economic scale, these two cities were at that level.

As for Derry, it was truly just a low city wall enclosing a small town with few people—more like a village than a city.

The dock outside this rundown city had only a few fishing boats. There wasn’t a single large merchant ship, let alone any management personnel.

“Derry is the territory of Rory O’More. Even the governor of Derry is a junior member of the O’More family—the nephew of the clan leader, Rory O’More. It may not look like much, but it’s the center of a large county with over a hundred thousand people,” Haig said, pointing to the distant city as he explained to Olaf.

“We agreed with O’More to meet around June 5th, but it’s already June 11th. Though it’s already evening, we should still go find O’More’s nephew as soon as possible.” After saying this, Haig ordered the sailors to set up the gangplank, then disembarked with Hrutik.

Two hours later, after nightfall, the two returned to the ship.

“So, did you meet O’More’s nephew, the governor?” Ulf asked casually as he took Haig and Hrutik’s hats.

“Cough, cough. We did. Starting tomorrow, he’ll organize people to come. We should have the over a hundred households of white slaves we need by the day after tomorrow,” Hrutik said, his throat troubled by an old ailment that had flared up recently, causing him to cough lightly before speaking.

By the next afternoon, people from the O’More family had brought farmers, artisans, and other commoners from northern Ireland to the port. Hrutik and Haig selected them on the spot, rejecting seven or eight who were ill, and accepted the remaining fifty households—over eighty people—who were then placed on the mixed-rigged schooner.

After completing one transaction, Haig settled the account in pounds with the O’More family based on the number of households.

This trade continued for three days because the white slaves were people the O’More family had selected from various places, and it took time for them to gather after being notified.

After three days of selection, Haig and Hrutik had chosen 81 households—over 260 people—from four regions in northern Ireland.

Most of the 260 were placed on Hope and the mixed-rigged schooner, while the remaining thirty or so were housed on the two armed merchant ships.

The addition of hundreds of people meant the fleet was now nearly at full capacity. However, since they had been carefully selected, they were all healthy and strong men, women, and children, so there was no immediate concern about the spread of disease from overcrowding.

After final provisions, Haig purchased some horses and livestock. Then, on the morning of June 15th, the fleet set sail from Derry Port, sailing north along the Foyle River into the sea before adjusting course in the North Sea and slowly heading toward Vinland.

It was summer, so sailing from Europe to Central and South America wasn’t too bad, but heading to North America meant facing warm southeasterly winds, which slowed the ships down. They maintained a speed of about six to nine knots.

Twenty days later, the fleet finally approached the eastern waters of Vinland. Along the way, they endured strong winds, rough waves, and thunderstorms. Since the Atlantic was in the grip of summer heat, the rainfall was much heavier than in autumn or winter.

Without the route and nautical charts, along with the skilled navigation of Hrutik, Haig, and the others, the fleet would have been lost to the winds and storms long ago.

On the afternoon of June 27th, under Haig’s leadership, the fleet finally arrived safely off the east coast of Vinland. In the setting sun, the white slaves moving about on deck saw several fishing boats spread out on the sea, catching cod. To the west, a dark coastline with towering cliffs and mountains emerged, stretching endlessly in both directions—more like a continent than an island.

“Land ho!”

“Land ho!”

Dozens of white slaves on deck cheered repeatedly. Most of them had never been on a ship before, and the first ten days had left them dizzy and unable to eat. It took five or six days before they gradually recovered, and only after more than ten days could they leave their cabins and move about on deck.

Olaf had been napping but was roused by the commotion on deck. Pikku also heard the noise and came out of the nearby cabin. The master and servant made their way onto the deck.

“Master Olaf!”

After twenty-one days together, most of the white slaves on Thor’s Hammer recognized Olaf. Seeing him emerge, they shrank their necks in deference.

“Hello, everyone.”

Olaf smiled and nodded at each of them. His warm smile and handsome features made the white slaves feel even more inferior, but they also grew fonder of him—especially when they saw his bright blue eyes, which they couldn’t bear to look at directly.

Walking to the bow, Olaf watched as Vinland grew nearer and clearer. The corners of his mouth curled slightly, and he spread his arms, feeling the sea breeze as he whispered, “Vinland, I’m back.”

Chapter 29: Celebration Banquet

In the southeastern corner of Vinland Island, the Muskox River’s western valley was bordered to the north by the towering Razor Mountain, standing hundreds of feet high. At the southeastern foothills, nestled against the mountain, stood Haig Fortress. Before the fortress, in the flat valley, a massive city was beginning to take shape.

Hrut City—ordered by Haldor to be built last winter—was planned to span over ten acres. Beyond the central Haldor Keep, streets radiated outward like a spider’s web, with the outermost ring hugging the mouth of the Muskox River. Though the river’s natural state couldn’t accommodate large ships or more than ten vessels at once, Haldor’s vision for Hrut City was grand. Once completed, it would serve as the home for all Vinland colonists and slaves, even encompassing Razor Mountain as a garden. Ultimately, it would house tens of thousands.

Yet, even with the daily toil of white slaves and savage slaves, less than one-thousandth of Hrut City had been completed.

By mid-June, Haldor Keep at the city’s center was barely finished, with a dozen houses built around it. A crude stone-and-wood fence, just over a man’s height, served as a makeshift wall—enough to deter beasts and primitive savages but not a proper army.

On this late June day, Hrut City buzzed with excitement.

Not only were the Icelandic overseers and white slave leaders in high spirits, but even the white and savage slaves had been promised an unprecedented feast—unlimited meat, courtesy of Lord Haldor.

The white slaves, after questioning their foremen, learned that Master Haig, Young Master Ulf, Young Master Olaf, and Captain Hrutik had returned from Europe laden with goods and powerful weapons. Overjoyed, Haldor had decreed a grand banquet in Haldor Keep that evening, inviting all Icelanders, white slave militiamen, and white slave foremen.

Even the ordinary white and savage slaves would receive generous portions, sharing in the celebration.

Soon, hundreds of people disembarked from the six ships docked at the Muskox River’s mouth. Haldor and Katrin, along with Jot, Kadir, Hoskuld, Heiner, and others, awaited them on the shore.

“Father!”

Ulf and Olaf embraced their father before kissing their mother’s cheeks. Haldor remained composed, but Katrin wept with joy, showering her sons with kisses and words of longing.

Haig and Hrutik exchanged greetings with Haldor’s group before instructing the sailors to unload gifts—linen, wool, and whiskey—for Haldor, Kadir, Hoskuld, Heiner, Jot, and the others.

The hundreds of white slaves lined up on the shore wore varied expressions—most curious and excited, gazing at Vinland’s unique scenery while secretly worrying about Haldor’s temper and their futures.

Haldor surveyed them, noting their pale faces. Realizing many were unwell from the long voyage, he ordered Jot and Heiner to lead the 390 white slaves to Hrut City, settling them in the newly built houses. Once they recovered the next day, they would be given materials to construct their own homes on the city’s outskirts.

After the white slaves departed, Haldor rode back to Haldor Keep with Olaf and the others.

The ship’s cargo and armaments were transported to the Haig Fortress caves by Hoskuld and two Icelandic work teams. Haldor trusted only his fellow Icelanders with Vinland’s most critical supplies. Along with the weapons and plate armor, ordinary goods like linen were stored away, to be distributed as rewards after summer to improve the Icelanders’ clothing and living conditions.

Back at home, Tom, Halik, Solrak, Ilugi, Hari, Val, Eriksson, and others soon arrived upon hearing the news.

The friends embraced, and Olaf gifted them ornate brooches. The youngsters, delighted, bombarded Olaf with questions about his sea adventures.

“Olaf, did you see singing mermaids? Were they beautiful?”

“Brother, did you meet Uncle Haig’s giant walrus friend?”

Amid the chatter and wild imaginations, Olaf laughed helplessly before spinning a tale. “Of course! I was even chased onto the ship by a massive Indian tiger! Then I outsmarted it—”

Olaf’s storytelling prowess turned his two-month European trip into a fantastical blend of Life of Pi and Robinson Crusoe, leaving the youngsters in awe.

As dusk fell, the grand hall on the first floor of Haldor Keep was lit with candles made of sheep fat and whale oil—over a hundred of them, illuminating the fifty-step-wide hall like daylight, the air tinged with the scent of burning fat.

Long wooden tables filled the hall, crafted from oak and pine by the white slaves, each surrounded by benches.

As night deepened, over a hundred well-dressed Icelanders—men, women, and children—entered. Most were former Hrut Village residents, with eight others from the families of Kadir, Hoskuld, Heiner, and Kalm.

Once the Icelanders were seated at the front tables, the sixteen white slave foremen arrived with their families, taking the rear tables.

The work teams were Haldor’s system for managing Icelanders and slaves. A small team consisted of five households (over ten people), and four small teams formed a large team (twenty households, over fifty people). The Icelanders had two large teams, led by Jot and Hoskuld, with eight small teams under them. The over two hundred white slaves were divided into four large teams with sixteen small teams.

This structure strengthened Haldor’s control, ensuring discipline and efficiency. Each member answered to their small team leader, who in turn answered to the large team leader.

Haldor had considered forming savage slave teams but decided against it, fearing organized rebellion.

For this banquet, all white slave small team leaders were invited, and the sixteen arrived proudly with their families.

When all guests had gathered, Haldor descended the stairs in a brown wool dress with a striped jacket, accompanied by Katrin in a burgundy wool gown. Their attire, purchased by Ulf in Amsterdam, reflected their elevated status—true nobility now.

Behind them followed Ulf and Olaf in striped white robes, Half in a long white gown, and Gerny in a pink puffed dress.

The crowd, led by Haig, Hrutik, and Jot, stood and applauded. Haldor smiled warmly before speaking:

“Thank you all for coming. Hrut City grows richer and more prosperous each day through our collective efforts. It will one day be a great city. My brother Haig, my friend Hrutik, and my sons Ulf and Olaf have returned from Europe with immense wealth, trading our Vinland treasures. They are the heroes of Hrut City! Tonight, let us drink, feast, and celebrate their triumphs!”

“Celebrate!” the crowd roared in excitement.

At Haldor’s command, white slave servants brought out roasted reindeer, cod, and hare, their aromas mingling with spices. Dozens of racks held golden-brown meats, which the white slave cooks swiftly sliced and served on fine porcelain plates to the nobles before moving to the other tables.

As the cooks worked, white slave women carried out large earthenware pots, revealing clouds of fragrant steam—stewed mutton seasoned with black pepper and rosemary.

Within half an hour, every table was laden with delicacies, and every guest’s plate overflowed with meat.

Haldor ordered a barrel of whiskey placed at each table. This barley-based spirit, stronger than beer or wine, had been a favorite among Icelanders for nearly twenty years.

Chapter 30: The Oarsman

The day after the victory feast, Haldor, Haig, and the others slept until afternoon before gathering to select the finest firearms and plate armor from the Haig Fortress mountain cave warehouse. These were to be equipped for the Icelandic musketeers, the core of their army.

The thirty Icelandic musketeers were Haldor and his men’s most trusted subordinates, followed by the eighty white slave long spearmen. Naturally, they prioritized the Icelanders.

Three days after Hrutik’s return to Hrut City, training for the Icelandic musketeers and white slave long spearmen resumed. This time, over a hundred men donned plate armor, wielding the sharpest long spears and the latest firelock muskets.

The focus of this training was on formation charges and pursuing enemies. Hrutik had already begun preparations to raid the savage tribes deep within Vinland. The current training aimed to further improve coordination and endurance between the musketeers and spearmen.

Time flies when one is busy, making days blur together like arrows in flight.

In the blink of an eye, more than ten days had passed since the fleet’s return to Vinland. The white slaves had been organized into sixty-six production teams, each assigned different tasks. However, due to the sheer number of people and insufficient overseers, conflicts arose—some worked endlessly while others had nothing to do.

This problem worsened over time until an Irish white slave from the west was severely beaten by a northern white slave. Only then did Haldor realize that without adjusting their management and imposing stricter regulations on the white slaves, chaos would ensue.

The population of Hrut City had swollen from six hundred to one thousand and three people—a milestone equivalent to the population of an entire Icelandic district.

As the leader overseeing such a vast population, Haldor was both exhilarated and anxious. Now, only a little over a hundred Icelanders remained in Hrut City, while the white slaves numbered over six hundred. The rest, fewer than two hundred, were savage slaves. The white slave contingent had grown alarmingly large.

Previously, no issues had surfaced, but now management problems were glaringly apparent. To better control the white slaves and gain experience in colonizing and managing more savage slaves, Haldor immediately summoned the six leaders—Haig, Hrutik, Jot, Kadir, Heiner, and Hoskuld—to his home to discuss restructuring Hrut City’s management. Ulf and Olaf also attended.

Iceland had no precedents to follow, and European history offered no examples of a settlement like Hrut City in Vinland. Thus, Haldor and his men had no established models to reference.

After half a day of drinking beer and discussion, they still had no solutions. Everyone except Olaf and Heiner had shared their thoughts. Haldor had always known Heiner was intelligent—a university graduate from London—and asked for his opinion.

Heiner had been pondering the issue. Though he lacked political experience, his family had been Scottish nobility for generations, managing estates and people. However, their experience was with Scottish commoners, not a society like Hrut City’s, composed of Icelanders, white slaves, and savage slaves. He struggled to devise a suitable management system.

But since Haldor had asked, Heiner couldn’t remain silent. He cleared his throat and shared his half-formed ideas: “Uncle Haldor, Hrut City now has over six hundred people, and problems keep arising. After observing, I’d say more than half of the conflicts in production and daily life could have been avoided. The root issue is that we don’t have enough managers.”

“We have no real system for managing over a thousand people in Hrut City. Besides you as the lord, me, my father-in-law, Uncle Hoskuld, Jot, and Hrutik are the only overseers. There’s no one else managing the white slaves. While Icelanders outrank white slaves, they have no authority to manage them. So, to better oversee the white slaves, we organized them into teams of ten, each led by a white slave foreman. Then, Uncle Jot, me, Uncle Hoskuld, and the rest only needed to manage those sixteen foremen. This method worked well—it improved efficiency.”

“But now, with six hundred white slaves—minus twenty children who can’t work—we have fifty-two production teams, each with a foreman. These fifty-two teams are divided into fourteen larger units. But we, the five or six overseers, have too much on our plates. The fourteen unit leaders lack the ability and knowledge to manage the smaller teams effectively. While we manage the unit leaders, we’re still effectively overseeing fifty teams, which is too much. We can’t efficiently utilize all the production teams.”

“Heiner’s right,” Jot agreed, his forehead creasing further. “The fifty-two foremen all want easier jobs, so they fight over positions and tasks. For example, they all want to hunt, some will settle for logging, but no one wants to quarry stone. The unit leaders can’t control them—they think the same way. That’s where the conflicts come from.”

With Heiner and Jot’s analysis, the situation became clearer. Haldor twirled the knot in his beard, asking, “How do we solve this?”

Everyone racked their brains, desperate for a solution.

Heiner spoke again: “I don’t have the best answer, but to reduce conflicts among the white slave teams, we need to distribute work fairly. Each team should get a mix of easy and hard tasks, rotated regularly. To better manage them, we should create an additional layer of oversight above the production teams—people with some education and intelligence.”

“That’s a great idea,” Haig agreed, slapping his forehead. “I never would’ve thought of that.”

Olaf listened carefully, having no prior management experience. Even now, his ideas needed validation against others’ input before he could contribute.

Hoskuld and Kadir also approved of Heiner’s suggestion. Haldor immediately decided to adopt it. After further discussion, they resolved to emulate the ancient Viking system used in England, Scotland, Norway, and Denmark—the Aettangr. Above the white slave production teams, they would establish a new position: the Oarsman, who would oversee two teams forming an Aettangr.

With this restructuring, six hundred white slaves would form seven Aettangrs, each consisting of fourteen teams. Seven Icelanders would serve as Oarsmen to manage them.

Note: Aettangr refers to one-quarter of a village, the smallest residential unit, defined by land area. During the early medieval period, Viking raiders used this system as their primary organizational structure. A Viking with one Aettangr of land could command an oar on a longship, joining raids and earning a full share of the spoils. Later, it came to represent the smallest administrative unit for Viking raiders, managing their own land and thralls. The Oarsman was the leader of an Aettangr.

Chapter 31: Viking Raid

After much discussion, to separate the combat personnel from production, the seven Oarsmen were ultimately appointed: Hoskuld, Heiner, Kalhu, Kalm, Ulf, Olaf, and Ilugi.

The first five were chosen without dispute. Olaf, who held the contracts of over eighty white slaves and had borne the cost of their purchase, was also young but had already achieved many extraordinary feats beyond ordinary men, his abilities evident to all. Thus, he was granted an Aettangr.

Ilugi was now sixteen years old. His father had been killed by a black bear in Vinland the previous year. Though his family had received some care, their circumstances were not as good as before. Haldor recalled that Ilugi had attended the church school in the Seltyana district and had graduated with excellent results the previous spring. Driven by guilt over Ilugi’s father’s death and a genuine appreciation for talent, Haldor proposed that Ilugi be made an Aettangr Oarsman.

Though there were some objections, under Haldor’s insistence, the others agreed before the meeting concluded.

The establishment of the Aettangr and the clear definition of the Oarsmen’s roles played a crucial part in perfecting Hrut Village’s management and supplementing its administrative structure.

The seven Oarsmen could replace the previous six leaders. After their responsibilities were clearly defined, they could lead their own “Aettangr” to work, reporting only to the stewards.

Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and the other leaders could now be completely freed from the busy work of production to focus on the great campaign of subduing the savage primitives.

To clarify the legitimacy and continuity of management, the group deliberated for half a day before agreeing to Haldor’s proposal. Above the dual management layers of the production teams and the Aettangr, they established a higher management layer called the “Mannafylki.”

Mannafylki was an Icelandic term meaning “man-made and managed,” and also referred to the area controlled by the oars, or the oar district. In the Viking era, it was another leadership structure above the Aettangr.

Haldor decreed that five Aettangr would form one Mannafylki. Since Hrut City currently had only seven Aettangr, they established a larger Mannafylki, with Haldor serving as its leader, the Steersman.

In truth, Haldor had also established a “Fylki” above the Mannafylki, an Icelandic term for “ship district,” a larger management mechanism than the oar district Mannafylki. However, due to the small population, the Fylki existed only in name, with Haldor still serving as the Fylki’s district chief.

In ancient Viking history, the names and positions of the management hierarchy from top to bottom were all related to ships, reflecting the Vikings’ advanced shipbuilding and navigation skills, as well as their grand expeditions and colonization of various lands.

Haldor decided to manage the Icelanders in the same way, though the small population meant he was only nominally the Fylki district chief and Mannafylki Steersman, even serving as an Aettangr Oarsman. After all, Hrut City’s Icelanders numbered only a little over a hundred, barely enough to form one Aettangr.

Haldor’s proposal to emulate the ancient Vikings in organizing the Icelanders and white slaves under a hierarchical leadership structure was actually the result of a long conversation he had with Olaf the previous night.

Olaf knew that while Iceland was not small, its resources were scarce, its population sparse, and its environment harsh—far inferior to Vinland.

But no matter how good Vinland was, it was just a primitive island on the American continent. If they wanted to advance, they would have to return to Europe. Thus, Iceland was a necessary territory to develop.

After aligning their thoughts, Olaf and Haldor’s preliminary strategic plan was to develop Vinland, using its agricultural resources as a foundation to conquer Iceland. Once Iceland was secured, it would serve as a bridgehead to expand into Europe. With five to six hundred thousand Icelanders, all descendants of Vikings, fierce in temperament, tall and strong, and with over half trained in ancestral martial arts from childhood, they were the perfect source of soldiers.

But Haldor and the others wanted to develop within the ten years before the Thirty Years’ War in Europe ended. They couldn’t afford slow development—superficial exploitation and establishing provinces, relying on free citizens for taxation, was not suitable for Vinland’s colonists.

To rapidly increase Vinland’s strength, population, and wealth, Olaf clearly recognized that they must learn from their contemporary counterpart in the Far East—the old wild boar skin predecessor.

That predecessor and his son, Huang Taiji, had used the Eight Banners system to quickly plunder populations from Korea, Shandong, Zhili, Mongolia, and other regions. Like a snowball, they absorbed Jurchens, Mongols, Koreans, and Han Chinese under the Manchu core, leading armored soldiers and bondservants. After establishing the Manchu Eight Banners, they successively formed the Mongol and Han Eight Banners, dividing and ruling various ethnic groups while strengthening leadership under their family as the banner lords of the Manchu, Mongol, and Han. Combined with favorable timing, geography, and human factors, they seized the opportunity to enter the pass and establish their dynasty.

Without discussing the merits of the “Great Qing,” Olaf only wanted the Hrut family to replicate and imitate the “Eight Banners system” invented by the old wild boar skin.

After a winter and spring of research, Olaf felt that his modified version of the Eight Banners system was mature. Upon returning to Vinland, he began to persuade his father, Haldor, to agree to reform the colonial team in Vinland under the guise of Viking ancestral traditions.

The Manchu Eight Banners had layers of organization like Gūsa and Niru, while Vinland’s Hrut City had Fylki, Mannafylki, and Aettangr. Both managed all subordinates by household, with many differences but a similar basic structure.

The Manchu Eight Banners system, under the layered management of their own people, also included captured outsiders and foreigners as armored soldiers and bondservants—hereditary slaves. These slaves were layer upon layer of leaders’ property, a very Jurchen practice. Olaf knew this couldn’t be directly applied in Vinland.

Vinland’s so-called white slaves were actually contract slaves, more like severely exploited indentured laborers who regained their freedom upon completing their contracts.

In Northern and Western Europe, where serfdom had been abolished for centuries, the people, influenced by religious culture and Enlightenment thought, resisted being reduced to hereditary slaves.

If Haldor turned his subordinates into layers of exploited slaves, with “hereditary servitude,” generation after generation bound as slaves, his leadership would never hold, and he wouldn’t last a day as Fylki district chief.

Thus, after deep consideration, Olaf modified this form. Though the Fylki led the Mannafylki, the Mannafylki led the Aettangr, and the Aettangr led the production teams, this leadership was not that of a master over slaves but more like a governor over subjects—a form of colonial governance. This allowed the leaders to seek maximum authority within an acceptable framework while ensuring the system’s stability.

Building on this, Olaf also incorporated the strengths of the Manchu Eight Banners and Vinland’s local characteristics, preparing to provide the reformed Viking ancestral system with a bottom layer of exploitable slaves—the Inuit and the more numerous Indians.

Olaf named the reorganized team the “Viking Raid.” From the Fylki to the production teams, the entire Hrut City and the large team would work tirelessly to supply blood to the cause. When the team captured savages, they would be distributed as slave labor to every deserving family within the team.

“Viking” referred to people from the fjords, specifically the Scandinavian Peninsula. But in Icelandic, “Viking” also meant “bold in sea exploration.” Thus, Olaf decided to use “Viking” as a unifying term for the ethnic groups of the Vinland region.

“Raid” was an Icelandic term for expedition, originally referring to the Viking king leading a region in an expedition, organizing personnel and ships—similar to terms like “Northern Expedition,” “Liberation,” or “Eastern Expedition” in the Celestial Empire. Later, it also came to refer to the Vikings’ living areas and tax-paying communities.

“Viking Raid” was a term coined by Olaf, roughly meaning “Viking Expeditionary Force.” This structure was the result of Olaf’s study of the Eight Banners system, adapted and integrated with local culture.

In Olaf’s vision, once the Viking Raid grew strong, it would become a nation led by Icelanders and white slaves, managing a large number of savage slaves—similar to the newly established Later Jin Manchuria.

Sometimes, Olaf wondered: When the Later Jin was first established, it had only tens of thousands of people. Even after integrating Koreans, Mongols, and other ethnic groups in Northeast Asia to become Manchuria, it still had fewer than a hundred thousand people. Yet, these few tens of thousands had managed to enter the pass, unify the Central Plains, and rule China for over two centuries.

Iceland also had tens of thousands of direct Viking descendants. Could he establish a Viking ethnicity, uniting Icelanders, Irish, Scots, and other whites, even Inuit and some Indians, under the Viking banner system? Then, with the Viking team as the core, they could sweep across North America, unify the continent, and establish a new American nation. Using Iceland as a bridgehead, they could invade Ireland, the British Isles, or the Scandinavian Peninsula, becoming Viking raiders who “landed” in Europe culturally and “entered the pass” to rule that vast, prosperous, and beautiful land.

Chapter 32: Planting Potatoes

On the afternoon of July 5, 1628, by the Julian calendar, a light drizzle fell from the sky, bringing a slight coolness to the hot air.

It was the Little Ice Age, and Vinland’s summers were not unbearably hot. The rain made people feel as if they had returned to the long-missed spring and autumn seasons.

Last night’s meeting about managing white slaves and establishing the Viking Raid had lasted until the quiet hours of midnight. Every participant had felt Haldor’s ambitious determination to make great strides, as well as the powerful energy behind the organization “Viking Raid.” Excited, they left Haig Fortress and returned home, tossing and turning for an hour or two before finally falling asleep with complex emotions.

This morning, Haldor and the other leaders, including Haig, held a meeting in the square for all the Icelanders and white slaves. They announced the establishment of the Viking Raid, explained the relevant matters, and finally introduced the seven newly appointed Aettangr Oarsmen.

Then, the seven Oarsmen appeared, each leading their Aettangr’s white slaves to work in their assigned areas. Their tasks included logging, quarrying, planting, hunting, and gathering vines and grasses. Additionally, they were responsible for the construction of Hrut City one day a week.

Olaf, accompanied by Pikku, first addressed his eighty white slaves, then instructed several young children to follow him as servants, along with Pikku. He then led everyone to the stone cave warehouse to retrieve various plant seeds and farming tools they had brought back from Amsterdam.

Next, they went to the eastern riverbank near Hrut City to cultivate the land.

The land around Hrut City was generally good, and several hundred acres had already been cultivated. However, the most fertile and moist eastern riverbank had not been developed for planting. Originally, the white slaves from Haig Fortress had planted cold-resistant rye, which could not adapt to the damp environment by the river. Thus, even though there were dozens of acres of the most fertile land along the riverbank, less than a tenth had been developed.

The current society had extremely low productivity. A single farming household could cultivate at most twenty acres of land. Limited by primitive crop varieties and insufficient soil fertility, the number of plants per acre was far less than in later times. Therefore, looking at the farmland in this world, one would get the impression of “grass thriving, bean sprouts sparse.”

If planting rye, oats, and other grains, one acre of land could yield over a hundred pounds annually. When milled into flour, it would be less than a hundred pounds. A family of several people would need six or seven acres of grain for a year’s food. Adding taxes and daily expenses, a normal family would need to cultivate more than ten acres of land to survive, and even then, life would be tight.

Vinland had plenty of land. Currently, many fields around Hrut City had been developed, already planted with rye and some vegetables like radishes and beets. With abundant cod resources, a thousand people could easily be self-sufficient.

But Olaf knew that Western agricultural technology was backward, and crop breeding techniques were primitive. Grain yields were much lower than those of the Ming Dynasty at the same time. Although he hoped to obtain advanced agricultural guides from the East in the future, before that, Olaf wanted to do something to improve Vinland’s productivity. He wanted to free the large number of white slaves bound to the land by backward productivity, allowing the Icelanders and white slaves to have more hands for other tasks.

With limited productivity and no knowledge of advanced agricultural technology, after careful consideration, Olaf decided to start with crop planting. Besides wheat, barley, and rye, the crops suitable for Vinland’s climate included soybeans and black beans, but their yields were limited.

Currently, in the Little Ice Age, agricultural yields worldwide were decreasing, leading to natural and man-made disasters. This had pushed the already struggling Ming Dynasty to its end. Decades later, during the Kangxi and Qianlong prosperous era, with the end of the Little Ice Age and the sudden emergence of sweet potatoes and potatoes in the East, the high yield of sweet potatoes solved the people’s food problems, creating a false prosperity and ultimately a population of four hundred million.

Olaf’s attention was on sweet potatoes and potatoes, which were planted in both the East and West but had not received much attention.

In Amsterdam, Olaf had followed Ulf to purchase various vegetable seeds and plant seeds, including some sweet potatoes and potatoes. These plants were basically grown for ornamental purposes in Europe. Potatoes could produce small yellow flowers, and in England, some people ate the leaves. Sweet potatoes were purely green leafy plants, and some people ate the roots, i.e., sweet potatoes. However, as they were new things from Latin America, few dared to try them.

Olaf clearly remembered that in the Celestial Empire hundreds of years later, one mu of land could produce five to six thousand jin to seven to eight thousand jin of sweet potatoes and potatoes. The yield from one mu was enough to feed ten people for a year. Although the current varieties of potatoes and sweet potatoes were not as good as those in later times, a yield of one to two thousand jin per mu was certainly possible.

Converted to acres, that meant one acre could yield over ten thousand pounds of food. If a hundred or so acres of potatoes and sweet potatoes could be planted, it would be enough to feed everyone in Hrut City.

Cultivating a hundred or two hundred acres of land would only require the manpower of a small production team, saving over eighty percent of the population for other work. This could save a large portion of the productivity and accelerate the development of Hrut City by twofold or more.

As someone nurtured for decades with the core socialist values, Olaf clearly remembered the great leader’s words: “Population is productivity. A good party must liberate productivity.” Time and practice had proven that the great nation, in a few decades, developed its population and liberated productivity, turning a poor and blank country into the world’s second-largest economy. This guiding ideology was undoubtedly correct.

Olaf now wanted to develop Vinland, to build this undeveloped virgin land. Relying on a thousand people was almost impossible, but if most of the labor force could be freed from the land, it would accelerate the construction and development speed.

Olaf personally believed his decision was very meaningful, so he led his Aettangr’s white slaves to the fertile and moist riverbank. He first instructed them to till the soil, then plant the already cut potato and sweet potato pieces in the loose soil, about half a palm deep, with the skin facing up, and then water them.

Among the eighty-plus white slaves, the gender ratio was unbalanced, with only one-third being women. However, both men and women were healthy young people, aged between seventeen or eighteen and forty. There were only nine young children.

Now, among the nine children, except for three under ten years old who followed Olaf, the other six followed their parents and joined the seventy-plus experienced farmers.

The white slaves, led by their squad leaders and team leaders, scattered to till the land, plant the seeds, and water them. The most labor-intensive task of tilling was done by men and strong women, while the thinner women and teenagers planted the sweet potatoes and potatoes and then watered them.

Olaf knew that sweet potatoes and potatoes needed to be planted in ridges. Parallel ridges were dug, with sweet potato and potato seeds planted deep inside. The middle of the ridges became low-lying, which could store rainwater after rain. Olaf didn’t fully understand this principle, but he knew that in later times, this method was used to plant these two high-starch, high-yield crops, so he also required the white slaves to create ridges according to his memory.

Chapter 33: The Expedition

Hrut City was bustling every day, and even in the hottest month of July, the city’s pace did not slow down.

Haldor, Hrutik, Haig, and others led the militia in daily training, preparing for the upcoming sweep through the heartland of Vinland.

Jot, Heiner, and others led an Aettangr of white slaves and all the savage slaves in the daily construction of Hrut City.

The remaining six Aettangrs of white slaves were responsible for managing the farmland and collecting various materials.

It could be said that in the entire Hrut City of Vinland, almost no one was idle. Even the children of the Icelanders and white slaves were learning culture, such as language and writing, under Olaf’s guidance.

Olaf taught fifty to sixty children in the morning and personally observed the white slaves under his command planting potatoes and sweet potatoes in the afternoon.

Pikku, as Olaf’s personal servant, led more than seventy white slaves throughout the day.

Within a few days, the white slaves under Olaf’s command had cultivated and planted two acres of sweet potatoes and three acres of potatoes.

After inspecting the fields, Olaf ordered a halt to the planting of sweet potatoes and potatoes because the one hundred pounds of seeds he had purchased had already been planted.

But the white slaves could not be idle, so every day, Pikku led them to the fields outside the city in the cooler mornings and evenings to weed and catch insects. In an era without herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizers, agriculture relied on manual labor every day in the fields to weed and catch insects to ensure the growth, branching, and maturity of the already low-yielding crops.

At noon, he instructed the white slaves under his command to plant vegetables such as cabbage, cauliflower, radishes, European angelica, coriander, and water spinach along the riverbanks. Most of these vegetables had a history of cultivation for a hundred years, except for water spinach, which was a European wild vegetable. Later, people in the Guangdong region enjoyed eating it, so Olaf had also seen and eaten it. He had collected some seeds by the water channels in Amsterdam.

Water spinach is a water-borne wild vegetable that can also be planted in swamps and land, but it requires frequent watering when planted on land. It is a fairly productive green vegetable, and planting it along the riverbanks of the Muskox River is most suitable.

Previously, Haig and others found it luxurious to eat vegetables because the limited population did not have the time and energy to grow them. But now, with more people, they could grow more vegetables besides grains to supplement and enrich everyone’s diet.

So not only were the white slaves under Olaf growing vegetables, but the other six Aettangrs of white slaves were also planting vegetables by the streams and wetlands while managing the farmland, logging, and quarrying. Among them, Ilugi’s Aettangr was the most enthusiastic, almost replicating the work of the white slaves under Olaf, planting various vegetables on both sides of the Muskox River upstream.

Moreover, Ilugi had already applied to Olaf in advance, planning to get a batch of potatoes and sweet potatoes after Olaf’s harvest to try planting them next year.

Pikku felt that although his master Olaf was only the owner of one Aettangr, he could influence and even command Ilugi. If he wanted, he might already be the owner of two Aettangrs.

While Olaf was leading his white slaves in agricultural activities, Haldor, Hrutik, and Haig felt that the militia training was sufficient and they could attack the savage tribes in the heartland of Vinland.

On the morning and afternoon of July 10th, Haldor, feeling well-prepared, held two meetings of all the Viking Raid leaders in the castle.

The first meeting was attended by only six managers and seven Oarsmen, totaling eleven people. The meeting unanimously approved the militia’s plan to attack the heartland of Vinland, destroy the savage tribes, plunder their wealth, and capture savage slaves.

Hrut City was hundreds of miles away from the heartland of Vinland, and a long expedition could not rely solely on the militia.

The one hundred and ten militiamen of Hrut City were the combat unit, but entering the heartland of Vinland required many white slave laborers and wagons to provide provisions and help transport equipment and food. Real warfare was not like playing a game; preparation was complex and lengthy.

After discussion, Haldor finally decided to mobilize the food, cod, and smoked meat stored in the mountain cave warehouse as expedition provisions and requisition half of the large livestock in Hrut City to transport provisions and weapons.

Each of the seven Aettangrs sent twenty male white slaves as laborers and servants for the expeditionary army to serve the militiamen. They also found two loyal savage slaves to serve as guides and interpreters.

From the managers to the Oarsmen, everyone agreed with Haldor’s decision. Then, in the afternoon meeting, they gathered the leaders of the production teams and conducted a pre-war mobilization.

The white slaves came to Vinland because they could not survive in their homeland, so they risked death to come here. Although they did not like war, they did not resist it.

Especially when Haldor mentioned two conditions, the white slaves could not refuse. The first was that participating laborers could reduce their contract time by three months, meaning they could shorten their white slave status by three months and become free citizens earlier.

The second was that if white slaves killed savage warriors in the war, they could gain military merit. Using noses as evidence, one savage nose could be exchanged for a one-year reduction in slave time. That is to say, if a white slave could kill six savage warriors, they could immediately gain the status of a free citizen, obtaining land and freedom.

Chief Haldor’s generous conditions made it impossible to refuse, but there were also requirements: no one could desert during the war. Anyone who fled would be exiled or even hanged.

The male white slaves had already put life and death aside when they sold themselves to buy ship tickets to the West Indies, so after hearing Haldor’s words, almost no white slave production team leader hesitated. Everyone excitedly expressed their willingness to lead their teams to join the expeditionary army.

Haldor, Hrutik, and Haig were pleased with the performance of the white slave leaders. After discussion, Hrutik was tasked with selecting white slaves that evening. Finally, ten of the strongest men were selected from each production team, mostly team leaders, and then led by a squad leader to join the expeditionary army as logistics personnel.

The original production teams were then promoted by their respective Oarsmen to acting squad leaders and team leaders and continued to work in Hrut City.

At the same time, to protect the safety of Hrut City, Haldor ordered Kadir to serve as the captain of the city defense militia, managing ten white slave militiamen to guard the safety of Hrut City. If attacked by savages, they could also mobilize the seven major Aettangrs to assist in the battle.

At noon on July 11th, led by the three major chiefs Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik, one hundred and ten militiamen and one hundred and forty white slave laborers, along with twelve wagons, four ox carts, and two savage slaves, set off.

This Viking militia carried the eager expectations and instructions of more than seven hundred fathers, wives, and children from Hrut City and left the Muskox River Valley in high spirits, rapidly advancing towards the vast heartland of Vinland Island to the northeast.

Almost all the Icelandic musketeers and white slave long spearmen, and even most of the white slave laborers, faced the upcoming war with a relaxed attitude. Eight years of large and small battles had told them that, with equal numbers, the savages were nothing in front of the white men. Moreover, the current militia had thirty firelock muskets and more than a hundred sets of plate armor as advanced equipment, making it easy to deal with the small, primitive savages.

Unconsciously, various troops in the Viking militia on the march thought of the earnest teachings from their wives or relatives before departure:

“Work hard and plunder more.”

In the current era, not to mention militias like these rabble, even the best mercenary troops in the German region played the role of bandits in war. Sometimes they not only plundered the people of enemy countries but also those of friendly and their own countries.

The unity of soldiers and bandits was a military system characteristic maintained in both the West and the East. The improvement of this situation would have to wait for the future World War I, where modern warfare would promote the emergence of modern professional soldiers, improving the quality of soldiers.

Therefore, neither Haldor nor Hrutik would stop their subordinates from having the idea of plundering; they would even encourage them because people risked their lives in great battles, and plundering was a benefit within their duties.

Wasn’t the Crusade a holy war from top to bottom to plunder the East?

In Europe, fighting was synonymous with plundering, a tradition with a long history. Even in the future 21st century, wasn’t that beautiful country still following this logic?

Chapter 34: Crumbling Like Dry Wood

Since the seventeenth century, Earth had entered a period of the Little Ice Age, with the climate gradually growing colder. Though Vinland lay at a high latitude, the warm Caribbean current to its south kept temperature fluctuations relatively mild.

Yet even in July, the people of Vinland still wore linen undershirts and long trousers, adding a thin robe at night.

To the east of Vinland lay the Bedino Wilderness—a vast wetland forest, untouched by human presence, where black bears and white wolves roamed freely.

But today, the wilderness was eerily silent. Not a single beast stirred, for a disciplined column of soldiers marched eastward across the grasslands before the forest.

At the head of the column rode three towering men. The two tallest were broad-shouldered brothers with brown and white hair—Haldor and Haig. Their thick brows and strong features marked them as kin.

Hrutik, clad in leather armor, rode ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings like radar, alert for any sign of life—especially savages.

All three wore leather armor, with long swords and large axes at their waists and short spears strapped to their saddles. Behind them marched one hundred and ten militiamen in formation, followed by white slaves guarding sixteen supply wagons. Among them were two young Indian slaves—Jot’s carefully selected guides, Blackstone and Amu, both timid and obedient, perfect for translation and navigation.

“According to the Indians, this grassland forest is called Bedino,” Haig remarked, gazing at the endless wilderness to the right. “It’s vast.”

From Amu and Blackstone’s accounts, Haig, Haldor, and the others learned that beyond the Bedino Wilderness lay the heart of Vinland—a land twice the size of Oxhorn Peninsula, rich with lakes and towering mountain ranges. To the east were two major Indian tribes, while the north was home to several Inuit settlements.

The Inuit were fewer in number and lacked large tribes, so they were not targets of this expedition.

The strategic goal of Haldor’s campaign was to conquer and annihilate all major savage tribes in Vinland’s interior, execute their chieftains and warriors, and enslave the survivors for Hrut City.

The natives themselves called their people the Beothuk, not Indians. For the past century, English fishermen had been drying cod on Vinland’s shores while capturing or killing Beothuk for their furs. A hundred years of conflict had driven the Beothuk and Inuit deep into the island’s interior, where they lived in fear and resentment of European whites.

Eight years ago, when Haig led over a hundred men to claim Vinland, the fishermen dared not provoke his armed forces. They no longer landed on the island during the spring and summer fishing seasons. Yet the Beothuk and Inuit could not escape enslavement. Within a few years, not a single savage remained on Oxhorn Peninsula.

After crossing the wilderness and marching west for another day, the expedition encountered a river the next morning. The white auxiliary troops felled trees to build rafts, and the Viking militia crossed in orderly fashion.

In half a day, they covered over twenty miles, crossing three rivers—rafting across the large ones and wading through the smaller streams.

From a gently sloping hill, Haig spotted a massive lake in the distance, with wisps of smoke rising from the surrounding forest.

“That’s an Indian village,” he called out.

Haldor and Hrutik followed his gaze, their faces lighting up with excitement.

“We’ve been marching for a week, and we’ve finally found a savage settlement,” Haldor announced, straightening his back and turning to address his men. “Men, the village is just ahead! Move faster—we’ll sweep through it by afternoon. If all goes well, we’ll sleep in their huts tonight!”

The troops’ spirits lifted at his words, their fatigue melting away as they quickened their pace.

Two hours later, they neared the Beothuk forest. Haldor signaled a halt and ordered the plate armor unloaded from the wagons.

Once Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and the one hundred and ten soldiers were fully armored, and the musketeers had loaded their firearms, Haldor felt the killing intent radiating from his men. He smiled faintly and gave the signal.

“Advance!”

The column moved into the forest, heading toward the primitive village by the lake.

Thump. Thump.

To the beat of a white slave’s drum, the one hundred and ten men marched in formation toward the palisaded encampment.

The Beothuk had already spotted the invaders. Over a hundred warriors, their upper bodies bare and faces painted red, charged out of the village, wielding stone-studded clubs and carrying bows and arrows.

Hrutik watched through the slit in his helmet. The encampment was sizable, with over a hundred warriors—half of them young men wearing feathered headdresses, the rest elders and youths.

Primitive tribal warfare had no strategy or rules—just brutal melee. Though the Beothuk found the white men’s armor and tight formation strange, they did not falter. The boldest forty or fifty warriors surged ahead, closing to within a hundred and twenty paces of the Viking formation.

At this range, their wolf-tooth arrows, tipped with snake venom, would be most effective. The Beothuk warriors nocked their arrows and loosed them at the soldiers.

Seventy or eighty arrows struck the long spears and musketeers, but the plate armor deflected them all. The arrows shattered with a metallic clatter, leaving no dent in the armor.

Failing to penetrate the enemy’s defenses, the warriors howled in frustration, leaping in strange dance steps before charging forward.

Firelock muskets had reached their peak of development, with a maximum range of over two hundred and fifty paces. However, their most lethal and accurate range was within one hundred and fifty paces. Beyond two hundred, accuracy plummeted.

As the battle commander, Hrutik did not need to consult Haldor. His eyes narrowed, and he swung a red flag downward.

The drumming ceased, and the formation halted.

The front and side ranks of long spearmen parted, revealing thirty Icelandic musketeers in the center.

At the captain’s command, the first row of fifteen knelt, aimed, and fired.

The second row stood and fired in unison.

Bang!

Thirty shots rang out. Though some bullets overlapped, the close range and dense formation of the Beothuk warriors ensured nearly twenty fell.

The sight of their finest warriors cut down before they could even engage terrified the Beothuk.

Only twenty or so painted warriors continued their charge, while the rest slowed their advance.

With no time to reload at a hundred paces, the musketeers slung their firearms and took up their backup short spears and large axes.

Hrutik signaled with his flag, and the drumbeat changed. The four long spear captains led their men back into formation.

Thump. Thump.

The drumbeat quickened and slowed in rhythm.

The formation advanced steadily, crashing into the remaining twenty warriors.

The skilled hunters and warriors raised their clubs, but before they could strike, five or six long spears pierced them from all angles. Even the fiercest Beothuk could only deflect one spear before being skewered like hedgehogs, their bodies riddled with bloody holes as they collapsed.

The fifty warriors behind watched in horror as their proudest fighters fell instantly. Even their mightiest chief, Asma, could not land a single blow before being turned into a bloodied corpse.

These were warriors who could battle bears and wolves—yet now, they were slaughtered with ease. The Beothuk could hardly believe their eyes.

Chapter 35: Conquest

The battle between the one hundred and ten formation soldiers and the Beothuk warriors ended in less than half an hour.

The Beothuk warriors were first gunned down by the Icelandic musketeers, losing over twenty men. Then, the white slave long spearmen killed another twenty. The remaining fifty or so warriors, seeing that their bows and arrows had no effect on the enemy and that the twenty strongest warriors of their tribe had been slaughtered like rabbits in the jaws of a leopard, were instantly terrified.

Watching the massive, square formation of men in strange armor, wielding sharp and unfamiliar weapons, the remaining Beothuk warriors shouted in their language before turning and fleeing back to their camp.

Haldor waved his hand, summoning the two Indian slaves, Blackstone and Amu, to his side. From atop his horse, he looked down and asked, “What are those savage warriors shouting about?”

“Respected master, those ignorant savages see your mighty army, your strength, and the firearms that spew fire and smoke to kill men from a hundred paces away. They believe you are a demonic spirit wielding the power of thunder and heavenly fire. They cry out for the heavenly fire not to strike them and flee with their people,” Amu respectfully replied in Icelandic.

Icelandic was an ancient language of the Scandinavian Peninsula, the ancestor of modern Danish, Norwegian, and even Swedish. Though archaic, its simplicity made it easier to learn.

The white slaves of Hrut City were eagerly learning Icelandic, and many had already become proficient. Among the savage slaves, the quick-witted ones like Blackstone and Amu were also diligently studying the language.

Hrutik was a highly disciplined military officer. Upon hearing Amu’s words, he instantly thought of a way to shatter the enemy’s morale and weaken their resistance.

“Amu and Blackstone, follow behind the formation and charge forward. Once inside the village, shout that the divine lord who commands the heavenly fire has descended to punish those who disrespect the spirits. If they surrender, they will be spared judgment.”

Hrutik’s words made Haig and Haldor’s eyes light up simultaneously.

“Hrutik, that’s a good idea,” they agreed.

The two savage slaves nodded and quickly caught up with the formation, which had already broken through the wooden palisade and stormed into the camp.

Once inside the village, the musketeers and long spearmen began hunting down the warriors and adult males hiding in the thatched huts. Many Beothuk families attempting to flee were caught and killed, and those who resisted—young men and women—were also slaughtered. The remaining women, children, and elderly were taken as captive slaves.

The Beothuk camp spanned over a hundred acres, with forty to fifty thatched houses and a population of five hundred, making it one of the largest tribes in Vinland.

The Beothuk lived by the water, calling this land and its surrounding lakes the “Star River Land.” It was a place of peace and prosperity, where life had been stable for centuries. But on this day, that tranquility was shattered by white men clad in armor harder than stone.

The arrival of the white men from the southeastern peninsula brought not friendship, but death and terror.

The warriors of this powerful tribe, rulers of the “Star River Land,” were instantly killed by the white men’s magical heavenly fire. Then, hundreds of white men stormed the village, slaughtering warriors, priests, and adult males, and looting every hut for furs.

Indian culture was primitive—they had no metal, no currency, no jewels. The only thing they valued was animal pelts, used for clothing and bedding.

The cries of the Indians lasted for over two hours before finally ceasing. When all was said and done, Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik gathered their one hundred and ten soldiers, one hundred and forty white slave auxiliaries, and the two savage slaves.

Under the indulgence of Haldor and the others, the two hundred and fifty-two Hrut City militiamen had stormed the village and begun a rampage of killing and looting.

At first, some warriors and men tried to resist, but they were no match for the white slaves and Icelanders in plate armor wielding sharp blades. The primitive men, bare-chested and armed only with wooden clubs, were slaughtered on contact, unable to inflict even a scratch on the white soldiers.

After the militiamen had their fill of pillaging, the white slave auxiliaries rushed in, eager to snatch up whatever scraps the militiamen had left behind.

The Hrut City militia, trained by Hrutik in the ways of mercenaries, represented the peak of contemporary soldiery.

The Icelandic musketeers, few in number and most with families, behaved relatively well—they only killed resisting men and women, taking the rest as captives while looting the huts for furs.

The white slave auxiliaries, newly arrived in Vinland and of low status, dared not act too boldly. They only captured the weak and elderly and took the tattered deer hides the militiamen had discarded.

But the white slave long spearmen were a different story.

Most of them had lived in Vinland for over three years, some as long as eight. Over eighty percent were unmarried, young and full of vigor. Long deprived of women, they had begun to see even ewes as fair maidens. The violence and plunder of war had awakened their bestial nature, and many dragged Indian women into the huts to sate their lust.

Only when Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik—the three leaders—ordered the white slaves to beat the drums and assemble the militia and auxiliaries did the scattered men emerge from the huts, bringing their looted furs and captives to the central clearing of the village.

As the crowd stood in disarray with their captives, Haldor’s expression darkened. Hrutik and Haig furrowed their brows—they had noticed over twenty white slave long spearmen with disheveled clothing, clearly having just indulged in pleasure. Behind them, some of the bound Indian captives—women and girls—were also in disarray, their faces filled with terror.

“You there—step forward!” Hrutik’s face was as cold as the snow-capped mountains of the Arctic Ocean.

The disheveled white slave long spearmen stumbled forward, trembling.

“Hrutik, Oarsman, what are your orders?” they asked.

After the restructuring of Hrut City, the militia had been reorganized along the lines of the Viking Raid, though the production teams were now called squads. Above them were the Aettangr Oarsmen and the Mannafylki Raid Leaders. Hrutik was the Oarsman overseeing the one hundred and ten militiamen and the entire Viking force of two hundred and fifty-two, including auxiliaries.

Staring at the panicked white slave long spearmen before him, Hrutik drew the riding crop from his waist and lashed out viciously, cursing, “Bastards! You sons of bitches! You dare rape Indian women? Do you have a death wish? If you don’t want to live, don’t drag others down with you!”

Hrutik showed no mercy, whipping the men until they writhed on the ground, begging for forgiveness. The sight terrified the other thirty or so white slave long spearmen who had also just indulged, their faces pale, their bodies shaking.

Hrutik grew more enraged with each strike, only stopping when the men lay motionless, covered in wounds. Panting heavily, he sheathed his whip and glared at the crowd. “From now on, keep your belts buckled! If I catch anyone raping an Indian woman again, I’ll exile you from Vinland and leave you to die in the wilderness of the West Indies!”

His voice was chilling, and the two hundred men shivered, standing straighter in fear.

Chapter 36: Slaves

Haldor and Haig breathed a sigh of relief when they saw Hrutik finally suppress the soldiers with his violent methods, easing their tension.

In truth, Haldor, Hrutik, and Haig were not saints of high moral character, nor were they leaders who refused to take even a needle or thread from the people. They had no intention or ability to build an army that did not disturb the people or engage in looting.

The reason they could not tolerate the white slave long spears raping Indian women and were furious was because they feared their soldiers would contract syphilis, which could ultimately kill many of them.

After Columbus discovered the New World and returned to Europe, diseases similar to leprosy but seemingly more terrifying began to appear in large numbers in Spain, France, and other places. This terrible virus spread through sexual contact and had a terrifying fatality rate. Even if patients did not die, they would suffer unbearable pain. Thus, people’s fear of this disease, called syphilis, brought back by Columbus from America, was second only to the Black Death.

Later research showed that whether syphilis was truly brought back from the American continent by Columbus was still debatable, but it was a fact verified through excavated bones that Indians carried syphilis.

Haldor, Hrutik, and Haig did not understand what syphilis was or whether it truly existed among the Indians, but they dared not try it and were unwilling to risk their soldiers’ lives to test the accuracy of the rumors.

Hrutik severely punished more than twenty white slaves who had raped Indian women in front of everyone to remind them not to touch Indian women, lest they contract syphilis and ruin their lives, and risk infecting everyone else.

After Hrutik’s severe punishment of the white slaves, the Viking army’s frenzied excitement and joy of victory were diluted and suppressed.

Haldor also expressed his support for Hrutik and finally ordered that the spoils, captives, and military merits obtained by each Icelandic individual belonged to them. The white slaves could also keep half of their spoils and captives as private property. If they did not want them, they could turn them in upon returning to Hrut City to offset their contract time. This was Haldor’s reward for the white slaves’ brave fighting.

After the decision was announced, the white slaves cheered.

Because white slaves were not recognized as having private property before the end of their contract, a strict contract owner could deprive the white slaves of all their wealth.

Similarly, the wealth looted by white slaves following their master into battle had to be turned over to the master.

However, doing so would completely offend the white slaves, and giving everything to the white slaves would make them arrogant. Haldor seemed to have truly figured out leadership experience and, without hesitation, timely displayed the benevolence of a kind leader, allowing the white slaves to keep half of the looted wealth.

The white slaves were both happy and grateful to Haldor, feeling it was their due and fortunate. This premise was also because the white slaves could loot things due to the strength of the militia, and the strength of the militia was due to the remote firepower suppression of thirty musketeers and the close protection of one hundred and ten sets of plate armor. This result was entirely due to Leader Haldor.

Haldor looked at the increasingly dark sky and ordered the preparation of food. After eating, he led everyone to set up night watches. More than two hundred people were divided into three shifts and slept in several large houses at the core of the village.

To prevent the slaves from escaping, the white slaves tied all the slaves together with ropes, and then dozens of soldiers took turns guarding them.

The next morning, when Haldor and the others woke up, they felt sore all over. The unfamiliar environment and the company of the dead made them sleep very uncomfortably, and they just wanted to leave quickly.

So Haldor ordered the destruction of the savage village and led the captives and spoils back to Hrut City.

At dawn, the lakeside village was set on fire. The more than a hundred corpses lying around the village the previous night had been thrown into the lake by the white slaves. The flames grew higher and higher, illuminating the blood-stained land. The air was filled with a strong and pungent bloody smell, but as more and more grass houses were set on fire, the black smoke spread and covered the bloody smell. The growing flames in the black smoke also lit up the dawn sky.

As the flames soared and black smoke rolled, Haldor had already led more than two hundred and fifty militiamen and three hundred and eighty Beothuk slaves away from the lake and forest filled with corpses, embarking on the return journey.

On the way back, due to the addition of nearly four hundred Indian savages, the speed was much slower. It was not that the Indians could not walk fast, but the Haldor army, to save energy and prevent the Indian captives from escaping, tied many savages together with ropes, making it impossible for them to move quickly.

The Viking legion took a week to travel from Hrut City to the large Beothuk village, consuming a third of the food on the wagons.

The remaining food was originally insufficient to support the large group of more than six hundred people returning to Hrut City. However, in addition to furs, the Indian village was looted of more than a thousand pounds of corn, cowpea grains, and squash seeds. Corn, cowpeas, and squash seeds could be both planted and eaten. Haldor ordered the white slaves to bring all this food, which was enough for more than six hundred people to eat on the road.

Now was the season for crop growth, so the savage village had only leftover rations. If they waited another month, it would be harvest season, and corn, cowpeas, and squash would be ready for harvest.

Vinland’s latitude was too far north, making the climate unsuitable for most agricultural crops, especially in the north near the Arctic Ocean, where the Arctic Ocean’s cold currents had a severe impact. Apart from the most cold-resistant rye, almost no other crops could survive.

Southern Vinland, due to the Caribbean warm current, had a much warmer and humid climate, making it basically similar to the climate temperature of Heilongjiang in the Far East Celestial Empire. From spring to autumn, more crop varieties could be planted.

The Beothuk people on Vinland Island were not skilled in cultivation and mainly relied on hunting, fishing, and gathering nature’s gifts. Later, after establishing close ties with the tribes of the western continent, they obtained the “Three Sisters” of squash, corn, and cowpeas and began cultivation.

These Three Sisters, in the Indians’ cultivation experience, needed to be planted together, mutually dependent, and would yield good harvests. The Indians did not understand the scientific principles but had figured it out through experience.

The chiefs and warriors of the Beothuk people were killed by the white slaves, and even most of the adult men died. The remaining men, women, and children were terrified and became obedient.

To better manage them, Haldor temporarily had Blackstone and Amu, two young Indian slaves, manage the nearly four hundred Beothuk slaves. Their languages were the same, and their cultures were similar. Within a day, the benefits were evident. Any command Haldor gave to the Beothuk people was immediately responded to and executed, which made Haldor’s favor for the two young slaves grow day by day.

When Haldor led his more than six hundred soldiers and captives back to Hrut City, it was already the afternoon of July 31.

Haldor’s western expedition in the summer of 1628 on the Julian calendar took twenty days and ultimately achieved a complete victory.

Two hundred and fifty-two militiamen and auxiliary troops had no casualties, killing one hundred and forty-nine Beothuk people and capturing three hundred and eighty men, women, and children.

When this achievement was announced in Hrut City, it caused everyone to cheer, and Haldor’s prestige was further enhanced.

Chapter 37: Distribution of Slaves

In August of 1628, the population of Hrut City reached over thirteen hundred, with the number of white slaves and Indian slaves nearly equal.

Upon returning to Hrut City, Haldor immediately began rewarding and commending the members of his Viking army.

Each Icelandic musketeer received one male and one female Beothuk slave, along with a reward of one hundred silver marks.

The white slave long spearmen were granted a reduction of half a year in their contract terms and a material reward of twenty silver marks.

Most of the white auxiliary troops, except for a few who had killed Indian warriors and thus had additional time deducted from their contracts, had three months reduced from their terms and received rewards of five to ten silver marks.

Since the white slaves had to surrender half of the furs and slaves they captured, and most of them also handed over the remaining half of the savage slaves to offset their contract time, Haldor ended up with nearly three hundred Indian slaves. He allocated sixty of them as rewards for the Icelandic musketeers, leaving him with over two hundred.

Haldor distributed the more than two hundred savage slaves equally among his seven Aettangr leaders. Each of the seven Oarsmen received over thirty savage slaves. However, since the Viking warband had killed more than half of the adult males during the conquest of the Beothuk tribes, the slaves obtained were mostly women and teenagers.

Olaf and Ulf, as the chief’s sons, along with Hoskuld, Heiner, Kalhu, and Kalm, did not compete with them for slaves, so they were able to choose first.

Olaf casually selected thirty-six or thirty-seven slaves, including only two adult males, twenty adult females, and the remaining fifteen were children.

Olaf ordered Pikku to manage the thirty-seven slaves and allocated a piece of land outside the city for them to build their own houses.

Originally, the savage slaves in Vinland were unruly, often escaping during outdoor labor or at night. However, the entire eastern part of Vinland was essentially under the control of Hrut City, and the savage tribes were in a state of competition and hostility with each other. Savages without a tribe to rely on in the wilderness had no good fate—they either ended up in the bellies of wild beasts or were recaptured by white slave militia to suffer torture and beatings.

Coupled with the fact that diseases and heavy labor had killed many in recent years, the original two hundred savage slaves had become docile and numb.

Seeing the behavior of their fellow slaves, the three hundred and eighty slaves under the seven Oarsmen, the Icelanders, and the white slaves did not dare to entertain thoughts of escape. Especially the women and children, who were already terrified, became very easy to manage.

The population of Hrut City increased by three hundred and eighty people due to this western expedition, bringing the number of white slaves and savage slaves to nearly equal. Although the savage slaves only added less than a hundred adult males and over a hundred women and girls, the slave force had indeed grown, and the construction speed of Hrut City had increased by twenty percent.

A easy conquest battle boosted the confidence of Haldor, Hrutik, Haig, and others. Kadir, who had been cooped up in the city for twenty days, also clamored to lead troops into battle and capture savage prisoners.

Moreover, based on the information provided by the captive savage slaves from the interior, Haldor and his men also learned about the true situation of the savages in the interior of Vinland, which further increased their confidence.

It turned out that over a hundred years ago, the French discovered that the waters around Vinland were a rich fishing ground. They began to land on Vinland to rest and dry fish. Initially, their interaction with the Beothuk was limited to exchanging small items from their ships, such as knives, flint, mirrors, and glass beads, for the Beothuk’s furs. Later, they discovered that the Beothuk did not have large tribes or aggressive tendencies, so they began to capture them as slaves and sometimes kill them.

The coastal Beothuk, under attack by French fishermen, could only flee into the mountains and forests. However, due to contact with whites, they contracted viruses such as smallpox and influenza, which quickly caused heavy casualties among the savages on Vinland.

Over a hundred years, the number of savages on Vinland gradually decreased from tens of thousands to a fraction of that, and several powerful tribal alliances also perished.

Eight years ago, when Haig arrived in Vinland, it was a time when the savages were slightly recovering. However, the savages on the southeastern Oxhorn Peninsula were still captured as slaves, causing the remaining people to flee to the interior.

From the mouths of the savage slaves, Haldor and his men learned that the several large tribal alliances in the interior, each with thousands of people, had disintegrated and perished due to decades of disease. It seemed that only one alliance remained.

Understanding the limited resistance of the savages, Haldor and his men decided to split their forces and advance into the interior of Vinland, sweeping from east to west, destroying all large and small savage tribes, capturing savage slaves, until they had swept across all of Vinland, unified the island, and enslaved all the savages.

“If everything goes smoothly, perhaps we can rule all of Vinland before winter this year.”

Haldor said with great enthusiasm at the pre-war meeting organized in the castle.

After the meeting, Hrutik began to select men from the Icelanders and white slaves to strengthen the ranks, preparing to expand the number of soldiers by one Aettangr.

With the addition of over three hundred slaves in Hrut City, including more than two hundred able-bodied laborers, the pressure on the Icelanders and white slaves was greatly reduced, freeing up a lot of their productivity.

Hrutik relaxed some conditions this time and finally selected thirty Icelandic men aged between eighteen and fifty and ninety white slave men aged between twenty and forty. He then began intensive training.

After half a month of training, the Icelandic men with some foundation could handle their firelock muskets quite well. Although their marksmanship was not as good as the other team of veteran musketeers, overall, it satisfied Hrutik.

The white slave long spearmen also trained to a certain level, able to follow orders and, wearing plate armor, were capable of sweeping away any Indian warriors.

In mid-August, after discussing with Haldor, Hrutik mixed the two legions and then, with the old soldiers leading the new ones, reorganized them into two legions. Once preparations were complete, Haldor ordered the expedition. The two legions were led by Haldor, Hrutik, Haig, and Kadir.

The auxiliary troops consisted of the original one hundred and forty white slaves plus one hundred and forty savage slaves, mixed together. Each of the two legions had a team of auxiliary troops carrying supplies and provisions.

When Haldor and Haig led the militia legions out of Hrut City in a grand procession, the large emerging city was left with only over eighty Icelandic women and children and over eight hundred slaves.

The management of the entire Hrut City was left to Hoskuld and Jot. In reality, the daily production, life, and construction of Hrut City were still steadily managed by the seven Aettangr leaders. Now that the weather had entered the hottest period, crops could no longer be planted, and people focused on logging, quarrying, fishing, and hunting. The women engaged in tasks such as boiling salt, salting fish, salting meat, cooking, and sewing clothes.

Although Hrut City suddenly lost five hundred men, the presence of numerous white slaves, savage slaves, and strong women continuously contributing to the development of Hrut City made both Ulf and Hoskuld feel that Hrut City had not been affected at all. Every day, hundreds of pounds of food were added to the warehouses, and thousands of pounds of timber and stone were transported to the square in Hrut City.

Hrut City had only over twenty horses and over ten cattle. More than half of them were requisitioned for this expedition. Fortunately, there was no farming work now, so the remaining ten or so horses and three or four cattle were enough to transport timber and stone.

Chapter 38: Wielding Firearms Makes You a God to the Indians

While Hrut City was bustling with construction and slaves toiled away, Haldor and Haig had already led their respective Viking militia armies off the peninsula and deep into the heart of Vinland.

This time, both armies brought newly captured slaves to guide them. Relying on their numbers and firearms, they had crushed over a dozen small savage tribes without needing plate armor. These so-called savage tribes were little more than a few families, mostly Inuit settlements of ten to twenty people. After the white slave pikemen and Icelandic musketeers killed a few strong men, the rest surrendered meekly.

With the new savage captives leading the way, the two armies quickly advanced along Vinland’s northern and southern coastlines, one heading northeast and the other southwest.

Along the way, they systematically destroyed every savage tribe they encountered—large or small—killing the brave and strong men while enslaving the rest.

In less than ten days, Haldor and Hrutik’s northern force had doubled in size, with over a hundred Inuit and nearly two hundred Beothuk added to their auxiliary troops.

By late August, heavy rains fell as Haldor and his men trudged through the downpour to Waterfall Valley, the place they had named the previous autumn in northern Vinland.

The houses built there a year ago still stood firm, but the crops they had planted had been ravaged by animals. Haldor and his men took shelter in the large and small longhouses, waiting for the rain to stop before continuing their exploration upstream toward the great waterfall. According to the captive savages, beyond the waterfall lay a massive tribe.

While Haldor sought shelter from the rain, the southern part of Vinland basked in clear skies under the blazing sun.

The militia and white slaves marched under the scorching sun, drenched in sweat. Haig and Kadir conferred and ordered a rest in the shade by a lake up ahead.

“Not far ahead is the savage tribe we wiped out last month,” Haig said, pointing to the vast lake. “This is what the savages call Star River Land. The waterways are extensive, with lakes everywhere. Deep in the heart of it, by the great Bakens Lake, lies the largest tribe, home to the chief of the Beothuk alliance.”

“Vinland is nearly as large as Iceland, and its climate is better. Could the number of savages here exceed Iceland’s? If there are tens of thousands, we might struggle to conquer their major tribes,” Kadir fretted. He hadn’t witnessed the Viking militia’s overwhelming victory over the savages last month, so the prospect of facing a massive tribe filled him with unease.

“The Indian savages have no metallurgy. Their weapons are nothing but wood, stone, and animal bones. Our soldiers in plate armor are immune to their attacks, and our musketeers are a formidable weapon,” Haig said, wiping his face with a silk handkerchief, the cool fabric a relief against his sweat. “The Indian savages have never seen firearms. When they hear the gunfire, see the flash and smoke, they think it’s divine fire and thunder. Their ignorance makes them abandon resistance. Our weapons, equipment, and combat skills surpass theirs a thousandfold. Even against ten times their number, we can easily prevail.”

Vinland teemed with wildlife, and the savages lived comfortably on hunting and gathering, so large tribes never formed. Most were small groups of ten to thirty people, living leisurely by the waterways.

But Haig’s army had upended life for the southern savages. They sought out every tribe, large or small, crushed them, and enslaved the survivors. Soon, their ranks swelled.

The southern region of Vinland was far more hospitable than the north, rich in resources, so few Inuit were found there. They had been driven to the harsh northern coasts by the Beothuk.

That evening, Haig’s forces stormed a Beothuk stronghold by a crescent-shaped lake, slaughtering over eighty adult men and capturing more than a hundred women, children, and youths.

Settling into the chieftain’s grand wooden lodge, Haig lit an oil lamp made of seal fat and sat quietly, waiting, his voice low as he muttered to himself.

“We’ve been out for nearly half a month. Because we’ve been sweeping through the savages like a carpet, we haven’t covered as much ground as last month. But now, there isn’t a single savage tribe left behind us. However, my white slave auxiliaries and savage auxiliaries now number over three hundred Indians. The more there are, the greater the burden—and the greater the risk.”

After a while, Kadir, still wearing his bloodstained half-plate armor, strode in and sat down, grinning. “That old bastard’s head is gone—blown apart by my gun. All the savages saw it with their own eyes. Now they believe I’m a god descended with the power of heavenly fire and thunder.”

Haig laughed heartily, recalling the words his nephew Olaf had shared before he left. At the time, he hadn’t fully understood, but now it all made sense. “Good. By killing their revered chieftain and shaman with your own hands, you make them doubt their gods. Then, when you tell them we are gods come to punish the blasphemers and spread true divine grace, they will submit to us.”

Kadir and Haig were not cunning men. Kadir pondered Haig’s words for a moment before clicking his tongue in admiration, his eyes wide as he asked, “Since when did you become so wise, Haig? That sounds more like something Heiner or Haldor would say.”

In Hrut City, Heiner Williams was known as the most intelligent, Haldor as the most strategic, Haig as the strongest, Kjartan as the most generous, Ulf as the most promising, and Olaf as the most enigmatic.

Kadir refused to believe that Haig, as rough and unrefined as himself, had suddenly become clever—unless he had been half-drowned in the Fountain of Wisdom.

Haig spread his hands and sighed. “Why can’t I think of wise strategies?”

Sensing Kadir’s increasingly strange gaze, Haig gave a dry laugh. “Fine, I admit it wasn’t my idea. Olaf told me before I left how to use the savages’ beliefs to control them.”

“That makes sense,” Kadir said, smiling as he clapped his hands. As the deputy commander of a Viking militia army, he knew his old friend Haig well. “Olaf’s mind is truly soaked in the Fountain of Wisdom. He’s a genius. Using faith to subdue the savages is far better than your usual brutal methods.”

The Vikings were ruthless toward enemies and slaves, and even after converting to the merciful Lord, they had not become much kinder.

Likewise, the European nations, who worshipped the almighty and merciful Lord, had not become gentle and courteous. They remained greedy, savage, and eager to help the “backward” peoples of the world accept the “enlightenment” of “advanced culture.”

In truth, if one compared Haig’s treatment of savage slaves to the methods of the East India Company in South Asia, the West India Company in Central and South America, or the colonizers in West Africa, Haig would be considered a benevolent master.

Chapter 39: The Great Waterfall City

Between towering mountains lay one verdant valley after another, where gentle slopes and flatlands nurtured a variety of plants. The most abundant among them were the fields where corn, beans, and squash grew intertwined—the Three Sisters.

The bean vines climbed the corn stalks, their roots enriching the soil, while the squash spread across the ground, shading the earth and stifling weeds. This symbiotic relationship, perfected over thousands of years by the Indians, ensured that even when the hunt failed, they would not starve. It allowed their presence to spread across the vast expanse of North America, wherever the ice and snow did not reign.

Though the Beothuk were a fishing and hunting people, they had been influenced by the Quebecois of the mainland and cultivated some of the Three Sisters and other crops.

In the northern reaches of Vinland, at the farthest edge of Star River Land, lay dozens of valleys, each home to small tribes ranging from a few dozen to over a hundred people. From the cliffs of the Broken Head, a great waterfall cascaded, unrivaled in all of Vinland. Upstream from this waterfall stood a city built of stone and timber, known to the Beothuk and Inuit as the Great Waterfall City.

Though most of its structures were simple wooden huts, at its heart stood a towering stone temple. Encircling the city was a wall of stone, tall enough to deter wild beasts and fend off Inuit raiders or rival tribes. The outer wall and central temple lent the city an air of mystery and antiquity, as if it bore the weight of history itself.

For centuries, the Beothuk of Vinland had formed an alliance, and the Great Waterfall City had known no war. But a hundred years ago, a series of terrible curses and plagues swept through Vinland, devastating the Beothuk. The Great Waterfall City, once the leader of the alliance, was reduced to a mere member. Its population had been halved, leaving only a thousand souls and five hundred warriors—far weaker than the current alliance leader, the Long Lake City of Bakens Lake.

That morning, Atapu, the chief and high priest of the Great Waterfall City, sat in the temple, praying for the success of tomorrow’s Great Wolf Hunt. The relentless rain had finally ceased after five days, and the animals would soon emerge in great numbers—perfect timing for the hunt.

The white wolves of Vinland were massive and ferocious, with no natural predators, and their numbers were vast, roaming every corner of the land.

Every summer and autumn, when game was most abundant, the Great Waterfall City held the “Great Wolf Hunt,” culling the wolves and other prey to reduce winter raids. Yet even with these hunts, children were still sometimes carried off and killed by the wolves.

Atapu was fifty years old, an elder by Beothuk standards. His hair was streaked with gray, his back bent with age. He wore a headdress of red feathers and clutched a maple staff carved with calendrical runes, its top adorned with three gold beads, two obsidian beads, and a single turquoise stone. This was the High Priest’s Staff, passed down through generations, a symbol of supreme authority and a conduit to the gods.

As Atapu murmured his incantations, nearing the trance-like state where he communed with the gods, a sudden pain seized his chest. His heart raced, and the staff nearly slipped from his grasp.

“High Priest!”

His descendants and the other priests, standing solemnly beside him, gasped in alarm as they saw him sway.

A young man, his face painted with colorful runes and a feathered headdress upon his brow, rushed forward to catch Atapu, gently lowering him onto a woven mat.

After a moment, Atapu stirred, waking to find that only his left hand and neck could move—his body was otherwise numb.

“Ah…” Though shaken, Atapu quickly steadied himself. “Olos, help me sit up.”

The youth’s face was etched with concern, nearly calling him “Grandfather” before swallowing the word. He struggled to lift the high priest.

Atapu knew he suffered from “the Stiffening,” a malady that afflicted the elderly and high priests. He understood that his time was near—soon, he would return to the embrace of the Sea of Asuras and the Harvest Goddess.

“I am to return to the gods,” Atapu rasped, panting heavily after the effort. “This was the revelation granted to me just now.” The priests around him knelt in silence, not daring to breathe.

“I have lived fifty years,” Atapu continued, “and preserved the Great Waterfall City through curses and plagues. Thirty years ago, our people numbered barely seven hundred. Now, we have surpassed a thousand. Under the gods’ guidance, we shall rise again. As High Priest, I now pass the chieftaincy of the Great Waterfall City to my grandson, Olos. Upon my death, he shall also inherit the mantle of High Priest.”

Atapu waved away his grandson’s attempt to help him rest, fixing the priests with a resolute gaze until they voiced their assent.

Just as Atapu was about to close his eyes, a series of loud crashes echoed from outside the temple.

Crack! Crack!

“Skyfire!”

“The Thunder God descends in wrath!”

The priests’ thoughts spilled from their lips in awe.

Ten thunderous booms rang out in succession, sending tremors through the temple. Shouts of terror followed.

Atapu, exhausted, had already drifted into sleep. His grandson, the newly appointed chief Olos, rose to his feet. He ordered several priestly apprentices to carry his grandfather to a bed in the inner chamber, then strode out of the temple with the other priests.

“Divine beings walk the earth, wielding lightning and fire! Kneel and worship, and you shall be blessed. Those who dare resist shall be damned for eternity!”

Outside, Olos and the others saw the city’s people kneeling in terror, their gazes fixed on the eastern gate.

To the east, the city’s finest warriors—elite White Wolf Warriors—lay strewn across the walls, their blood staining the stone. Many others, both warriors and common folk, knelt in submission.

Olos’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing. From the stone platform before the temple, he and the priests behind him saw a glowing red sun suspended in the eastern sky. Below it, a host of figures marched in unison, clad in armor that shimmered in the sunlight, their long spears gleaming. Some carried long rods that emitted wisps of smoke.

Squinting, Olos made out two figures at the forefront, mounted on towering, majestic beasts, also clad in gleaming armor and wielding strange weapons.

Behind these two leaders were several Beothuk from distant lands, shouting in an eastern dialect: “Divine beings walk the earth, wielding lightning and fire! Kneel and worship, and you shall be blessed. Those who dare resist shall be damned for eternity!”

“What fools dare call themselves gods?” Olos seethed, his body trembling. The approaching, gleaming horde was terrifying in its strangeness.

Suppressing his fear, Olos drew the bear-bone knife at his waist and roared, “Blasphemers defile our gods! People of the Great Waterfall City, take up your weapons and defend our home!”

Chapter 40: The Descent of the Heavenly God

Olos had expected that after his shout, the citizens and warriors who had been terrified into kneeling by the enemy would rise up and charge out bravely. But the result was that, apart from a dozen White Wolf Warriors, everyone else remained on the ground, trembling in fear.

“Gods, have you all been bewitched by demons?”

Olos looked in disbelief at the sea of kneeling people. Then, a sturdy middle-aged priest behind him drew the bone knife at his waist and roared as he charged out of the temple.

“Get up, all of you! Follow me and charge out!”

The priest was still the captain of the White Wolf Warriors, a man who had once hunted three white wolves alone. His reputation for bravery had spread across all the tribes on the island.

“Lord Putiya!”

The White Wolf Warriors and other warriors, seeing that it was the Battle Song Priest, hastily got to their feet. Putiya let out a cold snort and ordered everyone to take up their weapons. Then he stood on the city wall, preparing to carefully observe the approaching figures who were almost at the city gates.

Suddenly, Putiya saw the armored figure in the center of the enemy formation, holding a long staff, raise the weapon in their hand. His heart jolted, but he was greatly puzzled. Before he could speak, he heard the White Wolf Warriors around him shouting.

“Lord Putiya, kneel quickly, or the divine beings on the other side will summon heavenly fire and thunder to kill you!”

Putiya’s anger flared as he kicked over two men who were trying to pull him down. He was about to give an impassioned speech to reprimand these cowards when his body suddenly trembled. Then he heard several consecutive thunderous explosions, like bolts of lightning in a clear sky.

Putiya’s body went limp, and he collapsed to the ground. Only then did he feel the excruciating pain in his chest, as if his internal organs had shattered. Then came difficulty breathing, and his body convulsed before he lost consciousness. Until his dying moment, his mind was still confused about what had attacked him—could it really have been a bolt of lightning from the heavens?

Not far away, on the high platform of the temple, the leader of Great Waterfall City, Olos, and many priests saw clearly what had happened. Several armored figures outside the city gates raised the long staffs in their hands. Then, one end emitted fire and white smoke, accompanied by thunderous explosions. Following that, several blooms of blood appeared on Putiya’s upper body, and he collapsed to the ground.

The White Wolf Warriors and other warriors instantly knelt and crawled on the ground, trembling. Putiya and the others seemed to have witnessed a divine miracle, or perhaps they were hallucinating. For a moment, they were stunned, not knowing how to respond.

“The Heavenly God descends, wielding thunder and fire. Kneel and worship, and you shall be blessed. Those who dare to resist and blaspheme shall never be redeemed!”

“That man dared to draw his knife and raise his weapon. He is a blasphemer and must die without salvation. His wife and children shall also not be redeemed!”

The people led by the mounted figure continued to shout loudly. Their voices echoed throughout Great Waterfall City, making Olos’s face grow paler.

Soon, those strange people entered Great Waterfall City and stood in the square, all looking up at Olos and the other priests on the temple.

The tall leader on the beast turned his head and said a few words to the Beothuk man holding the reins. Then the Beothuk man pointed at Olos on the temple and shouted, “Seeing the descent of the Heavenly God, you, as divine priests, should come quickly to pay your respects. Are you also false believers, blasphemers destined for hell?”

As the tone of his voice grew more impassioned, the armored figures holding the staffs that emitted heavenly fire and thunder raised their weapons. Olos felt a chill run through his body. He knew that if he uttered any hostile words or made any opposing gestures, he would die on the spot. Putiya, who had been struck by heavenly thunder, was the example of what happened to those who resisted.

Olos was still contemplating whether to die with dignity or surrender to save his life when he suddenly heard a sound behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the priests, who were usually brave and domineering, all kneeling in unison, shouting, “We pay our respects to the great and merciful Heavenly God!”

Olos’s heart grew cold, and he hastily knelt as well, joining in the shout.

Haldor, riding on horseback, pulled down his face guard, revealing his fair face and brownish-yellow beard. He smiled slightly and said to Hrutik, who was riding beside him, “Olaf’s method is truly excellent. I didn’t expect these savages to be so ignorant and superstitious. By calling firearms the divine instruments of thunder, we’ve completely broken their will to resist and saved ourselves a lot of effort.”

“Yes, with our bravery and skills, along with Olaf’s wisdom and everyone’s efforts, we might soon unify Vinland. Then we’ll have the foundation to return to Iceland and establish a free republic. Haldor, you truly are a child trusted by God, to have given birth to a son like a prophet. Perhaps in the future, we will all be remembered by posterity because of Olaf.”

Hrutik, having experienced saving Haldor, enduring the royal jelly, and establishing the Viking Raid, had already witnessed Olaf’s extraordinary abilities and was quite impressed with the young man.

Chapter 41: Divide and Conquer

Olos was only eighteen years old. He felt he had a bright future ahead and had no intention of dying so soon. Sensing that the white leader might have murderous intent, he quickly begged for the chance to speak.

Haldor listened to Blackstone’s translation and nodded, signaling Olos to speak freely.

Without hesitation, Olos stammered excitedly. Blackstone listened with a slight frown, taking half a moment to organize his words before translating: “Great and merciful Heavenly God, as the lord of Great Waterfall City and the soon-to-be High Priest, I pledge allegiance to the great incarnation of the Heavenly God. You are the Heavenly God descended to earth, noble beyond compare. How could you personally rule over the people and teach the masses? It should be us, the priests, who spread your benevolence to the tribes across the island, so they may recognize the true faith.”

After hearing this, Haldor exchanged a few quiet words with Hrutik before asking, “How can you help me?”

Upon hearing Blackstone’s translation, Olos felt a wave of relief, knowing his life was likely spared. He spoke even more fervently: “Great incarnation of the Heavenly God, since you are an incarnation, I believe any deity is merely your earthly representative. You are the master of all things, of mountains and rivers, and you must have countless divine names, ruling over myriad tribes. My Great Waterfall City worships the goddess of the sea and harvest, the great Shurost. I think the greatness of the gods is beyond human understanding—gods have no gender, only our limited human perception assigns them one. So, I wish to bring out my grandfather, the High Priest Atapu. He is the most respected priest in Great Waterfall City, even across the entire alliance. If he were to profess faith in the true god before the people and return to your divine kingdom, I believe it would make ruling over the mortal people much easier for you.”

Haldor was delighted upon hearing this. He looked at Olos and nodded. “You’re quite impressive. If you can do as you say, I will make you a High Priest—the High Priest of all the Beothuk people on Vinland.”

Haldor agreed with Olos’s proposal. Olos respectfully kowtowed before rising and leading a priest to the temple, where they carried out his grandfather, the High Priest Atapu.

Atapu had suffered a stroke and was in a coma, but no one outside the temple knew this. Olos invited Haldor and the others to move to the temple’s exterior and sit down. Then, supporting his grandfather, he knelt before Haldor.

The commotion atop the temple drew the attention of the thousands of Beothuk people kneeling in the square. They recognized the familiar figure of the High Priest and his feathered crown, symbolizing supreme dignity and divine might. Then they saw the High Priest, supported by Olos, kneeling before the towering white man who claimed to be a god descended to earth. The sight sent shockwaves through their hearts.

High Priest Atapu was an elder of Great Waterfall City, the one who had single-handedly pulled the city back from the brink of destruction into a golden age of prosperity. He was the High Priest who communicated with the gods and was blessed by the Heavenly God. But now, this great leader was kneeling humbly before the white-skinned giant who claimed to be a god. Could this giant truly be a god descended to earth?

Olos helped his dying grandfather into position, kneeling before Haldor’s feet. Then, roughening his voice and covering his mouth, he mimicked his grandfather’s slurred speech due to old age: “Great Heavenly God, creator of the world, goddess of the sea and harvest, great Shurost’s incarnation, thank you for your arrival. Thank you for saving your people. I wish to return to the divine kingdom and serve you eternally by your side.”

After speaking, Olos suddenly stood up and, in his own voice, said, “The High Priest has met the true god. His devotion is sincere, and his soul has been received into the divine kingdom to enjoy eternal life.”

With that, Olos ordered the other priests to carry his grandfather away. They would first skin and gut him, preserving his body to remain incorruptible, then display it for a year before burial. This was a sacred funeral rite for priests and chiefs.

Haldor agreed to Olos’s request. The people of Great Waterfall City then watched as their late leader, High Priest Atapu, was laid out in the square. Two priests used bone knives to slit his belly, blood gushing out, before scraping his bones and flesh, refilling the skin with bones and padding, and placing the preserved corpse in a newly constructed shrine in the square.

Olos personally led the people into the shrine to pay their respects to the old priest’s body. According to custom, Atapu’s body would be displayed for a year before being washed and reburied.

Haldor and Hrutik watched Olos in the distant shrine, their eyes flickering with a hint of wariness.

Hrutik thought for a moment, then leaned in and whispered to Haldor, “That old priest was clearly still breathing, but Olos insisted he was dead and had him skinned alive. These savages may be brutal, but Olos is both brutal and cunning. I think we should use him, but we must also be on guard against him.”

Haldor picked at his teeth with his fingernail, but the stubborn meat fibers refused to budge, irritating him. Gritting his teeth, he said, “It doesn’t matter. We Vikings don’t fear difficulties. What problem can’t be solved with one axe? If one isn’t enough, we’ll use two. No savage can be more powerful than a firelock musket.”

“You’re right,” Hrutik nodded, though he still looked worried. “But I think we should keep someone to watch Olos, just in case he has other ideas.”

Through questioning Olos and the others, Haldor had learned that there were over a hundred tribes in the northern part of Vinland. Some were nominally under Great Waterfall City, some were completely independent, and many were Inuit tribes. Haldor didn’t want to embark on a long campaign, and he also felt that Great Waterfall City had too many warriors. It would be better to let Great Waterfall City conquer the savage tribes on his behalf.

“We’ll have Olos summon all the Indian tribal leaders under Great Waterfall City’s rule here, then order them to pledge loyalty to me. Then, we’ll have Great Waterfall City conquer all the northern tribes. Once all the savages are subdued, the northern tribes’ warrior strength will be depleted, and we can take them back to Hrut City.”

Haldor’s idea made Hrutik ponder deeply. He nodded. “It’s a good plan. We’ll stay and guard Great Waterfall City while Olos sends warriors to conquer the northern tribes. Great Waterfall City has over fifty White Wolf Warriors and more than three hundred warriors. With some organization, they can assemble a force of five hundred, enough to sweep across the entire north. Let them exhaust themselves for us—this is a brilliant strategy.” Hrutik even laughed as he spoke.

Circumstances change people, and hardships temper them. The two Viking militia commanders were growing through the trials of war.

Haldor and Hrutik thought for a while longer, refining their plan. Then they called Olos into the temple and ordered him to organize four hundred warriors to conquer the unruly tribes in the north, bringing all the conquered people back to Great Waterfall City. They also ordered the tribes already under Great Waterfall City’s rule to relocate there.

Olos’s expression darkened upon hearing this. He was deeply resistant to the idea but knew he couldn’t refuse. His fear of Haldor grew. He never could have imagined that this giant would devise such a terrifying plan—using his own soldiers to fight other tribes, helping him conquer the northern islands.

Chapter 42: Faith

Though reluctant, Olos still valued his life more. Under Haldor’s stern gaze, he knelt and pledged his loyalty on the spot before going to assemble the troops.

Soon, Olos had gathered five hundred warriors. Among them were fifty-seven of the fiercest and highest-ranking White Wolf Warriors, three hundred and forty ordinary warriors, and over a hundred youths in their teens and men over forty. Though young, the boys were brave, and the elders had experience—both could fight as warriors.

With this force of over five hundred men, Great Waterfall City was left with only women, children, and a few youths and elderly men.

With the families and children of the warriors as hostages, and with Olos, the chief priest, and all the other priests in his grasp, Haldor was confident that these five hundred men would fight to the death for him.

After kneeling before Haldor, the divine incarnation atop the temple, the five hundred warriors, led by over fifty White Wolf Warriors, departed Great Waterfall City. Ten musketeers from Iceland accompanied them as they hurried toward the distant, unruly tribes.

Backed by the late city elder and High Priest Atapu’s endorsement—and the miracle of his soul’s departure—the people of Great Waterfall City now firmly believed that Haldor, the towering white man, was indeed the incarnation of their god.

When a person believes in something, even if it is a lie, their mind will find reasons to justify it.

Haldor’s extraordinary height was proof of his divine nature. In the legends of the Beothuk and other Indians, gods were towering giants who wielded thunder and fire. The great High Priest Atapu had even recognized Haldor as a god, and after meeting him, Atapu’s soul had been taken to the divine kingdom to live eternally. This made the people of Great Waterfall City absolutely certain that Haldor was a god.

Thus, when Olos summoned the warriors, he declared it a divine decree: the god demanded that all of Great Waterfall City march to conquer the northern tribes, spreading the god’s faith across the island. Those who fought valiantly and remained devout would, like the High Priest, enter the divine kingdom upon death and enjoy eternal bliss.

The Beothuk warriors were filled with zeal. Carrying their sacred duty, they left Great Waterfall City with holy smiles on their faces.

Faith is a manifestation of how people perceive the world. The ignorant believe in gods because they know nothing of society—only faith can give their souls a home.

Even the educated cling to fixed gods or values, finding solace in the worldview shaped by their culture.

Those without faith cannot understand the devotion of the faithful. Haldor and Hrutik were both believers in God, though Haldor still held some faith in the old Norse religion. Thus, they and their musketeers and spearmen understood the savages’ behavior. Haldor even prayed silently to God, seeking forgiveness for impersonating a pagan deity.

Great Waterfall City was called a city, but in truth, it was just a large village with a temple and walls.

With over five hundred men gone, the city felt empty. Haldor ordered Hrutik to bring the white slave auxiliaries, savage auxiliaries, and captive savage slaves into the city. Olos was to settle them all.

Olos was obedient, carrying out Haldor’s orders diligently and frequently seeking guidance, like a loyal hound.

The addition of over two hundred militiamen and two hundred slaves made housing scarce. Many slaves were building new homes, while Olos struggled to feed Haldor’s five hundred men. With so few men left in the city, the people of Great Waterfall City often went hungry after supplying Haldor’s troops.

This did not go unnoticed. Hrutik soon reported it to Haldor, and after a brief discussion, they summoned Olos to the temple through Blackstone.

“Greetings to the great god and the divine emissary Hrutik,” Olos said, kneeling as soon as he entered, his newly learned Icelandic still clumsy.

“You are clever and loyal, Olos. That is good,” Haldor said, smiling at the young man before him. “Study Old Norse well. It will be useful to you.”

To emphasize his divine authority and mystery, Haldor had ordered all his subordinates to adopt Old Norse names, which sounded more ancient and majestic.

Olos looked up at Haldor and asked, “Great god, have you summoned me for something? Please give your orders.”

“I hear you’ve been letting the people of Great Waterfall City starve just to feed my men and slaves,” Haldor said, staring at Olos.

Olos, still kneeling, pressed his forehead to the ground. “It is this humble one’s mistake. Please punish me, great god.”

“Get up first,” Haldor said with a cold snort. “Starting tomorrow, I will have my Beothuk and Inuit slaves hunt together. Great Waterfall City is now part of Hrut City, and all of you are my people. No one shall go hungry.”

Olos’s eyes reddened slightly, his voice hoarse. “Thank you for your kindness, merciful master.”

Haldor enjoyed the flattery. Only after Hrutik glared at him a third time did he wave his hand dismissively. “You may go.”

After Olos left, Hrutik stood and stared at Haldor until he finally asked, frowning, “Be careful with Olos. He’s slippery. That tearful act just now—he’s hiding something deep.”

Haldor shrugged. “With you here, I don’t need to worry about him. He’s just a savage—a beast we can kill anytime. Why should we fear them?”

Hrutik’s expression softened slightly. “We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait in Great Waterfall City. Maybe we should call the fleet over. That way, when the warriors return with captives, we can leave for Hrut City immediately.”

Haldor slapped his forehead, raising an eyebrow. “You’re right. I almost forgot. Send Polly or Brun. Those two have performed well in recent battles.”

Polly and Brun were Hrutik’s most promising students. Not only had he taught them navigation, but he had also trained them in warfare. In recent battles, the two young men had led small squads of musketeers with impressive timing and marksmanship, earning even Haldor’s admiration.

Hrutik smiled slightly. “I’ve already sent Polly with two white slave soldiers to fetch the horses. Do you want to write a letter to Hoskuld and the family back home?”

Haldor quickly stood, and Hrutik had already taken out paper, a quill, and ink from his cloak, handing them to him.

Haldor smiled lightly, took them, and leaned over the stone table to write two letters. One was to Hoskuld, explaining recent events and instructing him to send all available ships to the old settlement in Waterfall Valley, built when they first arrived in Vinland, to pick up the savages from Great Waterfall City.

The second letter was to his wife, Katrin, and his sons, Ulf and Olaf. It recounted his journey over the past few dozen days and expressed his deep longing for his family.

An hour later, Polly, clad in half-plate armor, left Great Waterfall City with two white slave soldiers, riding Hrutik’s horse and carrying Haldor’s two letters.

Chapter 43: Managing the Savages Requires Good Methods

October 1628, Julian Calendar

Fifty White Wolf Warriors of Great Waterfall City, accompanied by fewer than three hundred subordinates and several thousand members of various Beothuk tribes, returned to the outskirts of Great Waterfall City.

Haldor, who had been waiting for some time, led his Viking militia in a display of formidable military formations and the awe-inspiring “heavenly fire and thunder,” silencing any lingering resentment among the captured or coerced tribesmen.

The White Wolf Warriors were the most powerful and esteemed warriors among the Beothuk, second only to the shamans in authority. Each White Wolf Warrior represented the slaying of a white wolf—a feat that marked them as the bravest and most skilled fighters in their tribe. Smaller tribes rarely had such warriors, and if they did, it was usually only the chieftain who held the title.

Thus, when Great Waterfall City’s fifty-plus White Wolf Warriors appeared with hundreds of warriors in tow, many smaller tribes surrendered without resistance. Even larger tribes with four or five hundred people were subdued after a bloody battle. The warriors of Great Waterfall City held overwhelming advantages in courage, stamina, combat skills, and sheer numbers.

In just one month, the city’s five hundred warriors had been reduced to just over three hundred. However, they had conquered and destroyed all the tribes in the northern half of Vinland’s Long Ridge Mountains, west of the peninsula. Nearly three thousand captives—mostly men who had resisted—were brought to Great Waterfall City, along with five hundred Inuit slaves.

After Haldor’s theatrical display of divine power, he retreated to the temple, where he now sat with Hrutik, drinking newly brewed wine from that year’s harvest.

Soon, Brun entered with Blackstone and Olos.

Olos knelt first in greeting before reporting to Haldor.

Earlier, Haldor had ordered Brun, Blackstone, and Olos to settle the returning warriors and captives. The labor of the remaining savages and slaves over the past ten days had resulted in the construction of many new wooden houses, allowing the thousands of newcomers to squeeze in.

Now, Brun, Olos, and Blackstone had come to report. In truth, Olos was the one handling the actual work, as he was the leader of Great Waterfall City, making it easiest for him to command the shamans and warriors. However, to prevent any underhanded schemes, Brun and Blackstone were present—ostensibly to assist but really to supervise.

Having submitted to Haldor for over a month, Olos’s Old Norse was still somewhat halting, but communication was no longer an issue. He first reported the headcount, then explained his plans to preach the faith of the heavenly god, converting the masses to follow Haldor.

Haldor remained noncommittal, but Hrutik raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are there really only a little over three thousand people in all of northern Vinland?” He glanced at Blackstone and Brun.

Blackstone, sensing Hrutik’s suspicion that Olos might be lying, stepped forward and said, “The count just now confirmed that the two tribes combined have only three thousand seven hundred people. Among them, there are barely thirteen hundred men. All the elders have been killed, leaving two thousand women and children.”

Hrutik frowned. “Given Vinland’s size and abundant resources, the population shouldn’t be this low. Even without outside contact, primitive tribes should have thrived on the rich game and land. The population shouldn’t be less than Iceland’s.”

Blackstone immediately berated Olos in the Beothuk language. Olos answered nervously, and after a long pause, Blackstone said, “Olos claims the island’s population was once much larger—twice what it is now. But diseases like leprosy and typhus have killed many. I’ve heard from my own people that my tribe suffered the same fate. Olos says the environment in northern Vinland is harsher than the south, so the population was always smaller there, and now it’s even fewer.”

Hrutik and Haldor exchanged glances. “It’s true that savages can’t resist diseases like smallpox,” Hrutik said. “That matches what we know.”

Haldor muttered, “Perhaps it’s not a bad thing that so many savages have died. With fewer of them, managing the weak ones will be easier.”

Hrutik’s scarred eye twitched, and he grinned. “Exactly. Our policy of using savages to govern savages is the best approach. If they’re too strong, they might not obey.”

In this era, nationalism and the concept of nation-states were not yet established. Whether it was the Four Great Khanates, the Ottoman Empire claiming to be the successor of the Eastern Roman Empire, or the United Kingdom of England, all ruled over many ethnic groups and annexed numerous states.

Of course, rebellions, uprisings, and even coups occurred, but these were unrelated to the common people—they were movements orchestrated by nobles vying for power.

The ongoing purge of the Huguenots in France was a prime example—a war waged by the ambitious nobles led by the Queen Mother against the reformist faction headed by Prime Minister Richelieu and King Louis XIII, all for control of power.

Within a year, the Huguenot nobles and their armies would be utterly defeated, and Richelieu would rise as a dominant figure in Europe, uniting with Louis XIII to lead France toward becoming a great empire.

Haldor and his companions had previously discussed how to govern the savages. They knew that as long as the ignorant savages feared and respected their rulers, they could be controlled. However, differences in culture and language, along with the savages’ barbarism, remained challenges.

Later, Heiner proposed a solution inspired by England: while assimilating the savages culturally, they could establish separate living areas for them, appointing governors to oversee them—much like England’s rule over Ireland or Denmark’s rule over Iceland.

Haldor and the others approved of Heiner’s proposal. Then, Olaf quietly suggested the strategy of “using barbarians to control barbarians.”

This involved reforming the savages’ beliefs, unifying all tribal deities under Haldor, who wielded heavenly fire and thunder. Thus, the Haldor family would become a divine lineage, ensuring long-term rule over the savages.

Olaf believed that as long as the savages were kept from advancing toward civilization, the Haldor family’s rule—based on their “divine bloodline”—would remain unchallenged.

The first and second batches of savages to submit would be granted the same status as white slaves or even Icelanders. They would then govern and conquer the uncivilized savages who resisted the rule of the heavenly god. Thus, the Haldor family would be the divine rulers of the savage nobility, who in turn would rule over the savage commoners.

Since the savage nobility were the first to be conquered, their faith was the first to be assimilated. Their connection to the Haldor family was inseparable, and their authority to rule over the savages was granted by the Haldors—they had no choice but to uphold Haldor’s rule.

The ideal outcome would be a layered system: the Haldor family ruling over the assimilated savage nobility, who in turn ruled over the newly conquered savage chiefs, who then ruled over the common savages. This tiered structure would reduce costs while ensuring the Haldor family’s dominance.

Olaf’s idea drew inspiration from the Japanese emperor’s divine status, the relationship between the shogunate and the daimyo, and the medieval European feudal system. It also incorporated the Jurchen practice of the “cooked” ruling the “raw,” who then ruled the Mongols, Koreans, and Han Chinese.

Though still in its early stages, the concept impressed Haldor, Haig, Heiner, Hrutik, and the others, who eagerly adopted it.

Chapter 44: Triumphant Return by Land and Sea

Vinland entered October with a series of autumn rains, one after another, falling in a steady drizzle.

After each rain, the weather grew colder, and by the end of the month, the savages of Great Waterfall City had wrapped themselves in layers of reindeer fur.

Haldor also added a sealskin coat over his linen robe. Leading Hrutik and a few others through the city, he watched the savages bustling about, gathering food and firewood. He stamped his feet and exhaled a warm breath. “This year is even colder than last.”

Hrutik, draped in a white wolf cloak, rubbed his fingers together, feeling the chill. He exhaled a puff of white air. “It feels like Iceland in October. The weather these past few years has been strange—getting colder every year.”

Muttering a few words, Haldor was about to visit the savages’ dwellings when he suddenly heard the sound of hooves approaching. Hrutik stood on his toes and looked west, smiling. “It’s Polly. Looks like the fleet has arrived.”

Polly, entering the city, spotted Haldor and Hrutik standing tall in the street, their bearing and attire far surpassing the short, ugly savages.

Soon, Polly and two white slaves rode up to Haldor and Hrutik, dismounted, and knelt on one knee in greeting. “Lord Haldor, Captain Hrutik, the fleet has arrived at the mouth of the Waterfall River. Hoskuld and the young masters are waiting for your return.”

“Hah, excellent!” Haldor laughed heartily, helping Polly to his feet. “How is Hrut City faring?”

“All is well in the city. Here are letters from the lady and the young masters, as well as one from Steward Hoskuld.”

Polly pulled two sheepskin scrolls from his coat and handed them to Haldor.

After reading them, Haldor burst into laughter and turned to Blackstone, who had been following behind. “Go fetch Olos.”

A moment later, Blackstone returned with Olos, who bowed before speaking. “Great Master, what would you have me do?”

Haldor, to emphasize his divine status and authority over the savages, had forbidden them from calling him a god. Instead, they were to address him as “Master.” Starting with Olos, all savages now bowed and hailed him as “Great Master,” “Merciful Master,” or “Sacred and Inviolable Master.”

Haldor gestured for Olos to rise. “My fleet has arrived at the mouth of the Waterfall River. Everyone in Great Waterfall City will relocate to Hrut City. Gather everyone and prepare for the move.”

Olos hesitated for a moment before realizing what was happening. “Yes, Master. It is a great honor to live in your divine city. I will prepare at once.”

Hrutik stopped Olos. “There are over five thousand people in Great Waterfall City. Three armed merchant ships and three large vessels can carry at most a thousand at a time. Start with the women and children.”

Olos bowed deeply and hurried away.

That afternoon, Olos gathered over five hundred women, children, and elderly, along with the wives and children of tribal leaders and warriors—totaling over four hundred more.

Haldor inspected them and, finding no issues, ordered Polly to lead the first group to the ships. Over a thousand people, carrying fur coats and a few clay pots, set off under the guidance of a dozen white men, heading north to the river channel ten miles away.

Ten days later, the fleet returned to Waterfall Valley, and the second group of women and children boarded the ships and departed.

Now, only two thousand five hundred young and strong men remained in Great Waterfall City. Haldor saw no need to wait for the fleet again, so he told Polly and the others not to return. After the fleet left, he ordered the entire population of Great Waterfall City to march out, preparing to return to Hrut City by land.

This time, Haldor commanded that all the stored grain in Great Waterfall City be brought along. The Viking militia guarded over a hundred tribal leaders and priests, leading the warriors and young men out of the city.

Late autumn in Vinland was unusually cold. If it weren’t for the lack of snow, it would have felt like winter.

North of Hrut City lay a vast wetland prairie. Frost had long since settled, turning the entire wetland into a silver-white expanse, like ice crystals and snowflakes.

In the wetland prairie, Olaf, Ilugi, and Ulf were hunting white wolves with their slaves from three Aettangr. This not only provided pelts and meat but also reduced the number of predators, easing the pressure on beavers, reindeer, and other prey, allowing them to thrive.

The area was dotted with thousands of lakes and various cold-weather vegetation, making it the most biodiverse region on Oxhorn Peninsula. Olaf had often come here in spring to collect maple sap.

The wetland was vast, but years of relentless hunting by Haig, Haldor, and others had thinned the once-plentiful reindeer, beavers, white wolves, and foxes. Even the skilled hunters from the seven Aettangr in Hrut City had to work hard to return with a full haul.

Olaf calculated that at the current rate of hunting hundreds of animals daily, the wetland might be nearly empty in a decade or two.

This reminded him of the extinct walruses of Iceland and the animals that had gone extinct in Australia, Africa, and Southeast Asia after European colonization. He had once been indignant about such losses, but now, as a colonizer himself, he understood the difficulty of resisting greed.

Olaf believed that only when Vinland became prosperous, and its people no longer needed to hunt for survival, could animal conservation be promoted. To ensure a steady supply of valuable pelts from beavers, reindeer, and foxes, he had mobilized Ulf and Ilugi to lead the hunt for white wolves.

Olaf saw this as a win-win: hunting wolves trained his men, boosting their organization and courage, while also providing meat to reward them and pelts to fill his coffers. It also ensured the sustainable development of the wetland’s fur resources.

That day, the three Aettangr had sent over two hundred men, killing more than a dozen white wolves. The meat was enough for each household to enjoy a meat stew, though one white slave had been bitten on the thigh by a wolf. Fortunately, his thick fur coat had lessened the injury, and he could still walk with assistance.

Just as Ulf, Olaf, and Ilugi were preparing to return with their spoils, they encountered Haldor’s group of over two thousand people returning from Great Waterfall City.

“What’s that?”

Pikku, riding a fat reindeer beside Olaf, spotted a large group of people appearing on the northern plateau. He straightened up to get a better look and confirmed it was indeed a large group, likely Beothuk savages. He quickly turned to inform Olaf.

“Master, a large group of savages is approaching from the north.”

Olaf, Ulf, and Ilugi rode side by side, each on a horse. Olaf and Ulf’s mounts were of finer breed—tall, long-legged, and muscular—while Ilugi’s was a sturdy draft horse, clumsy in appearance but still a rare commodity in Hrut City. If not for his position as an Aettangr Oarsman, he wouldn’t even have been able to ride such a horse.

Chapter 45: Hrut City

Upon hearing Pikku’s cry of alarm, Olaf, Ulf, and Ilugi, who had been chatting idly, quickly turned their heads to the north. Sure enough, they saw a massive crowd of savages approaching. Their hearts tightened, and their first thought was whether the inland savage tribes had come to seek revenge.

Behind Olaf were over forty people riding tall reindeer, including thirty white slave boys and more than ten short-statured savages. Further back were over two hundred white slaves, with several dozen in the middle carrying the corpses of white wolves.

Olaf had always been the leader among the children in Iceland and Vinland. The youngsters in Hrut City, both Icelandic and otherwise, all looked up to him as their big brother.

The special status of the Icelanders in Vinland meant their children didn’t have to help with daily chores. Recently, more than ten of them had been following Olaf around, going out hunting and training every day, having a grand time.

Among the thirty-plus youths behind Olaf, Ulf, and Ilugi, ten were Icelandic teenagers, over twenty were white slave boys from the three Aettangr, and more than ten short-statured young savage men were the most agile, healthy, and young slaves selected from the savage slaves under Ulf and the others.

The women, very young children, and a few sick or immobile men from the three Aettangr, along with most of the savage slaves, had been left in Hrut City to weave wooden containers, fire pottery, boil salt, gather fruits and vegetables, and dig up edible plant roots.

Those who had come out were the most trusted subordinates of the three Oarsmen. The ten Icelandic youths needed no introduction, and the over twenty white slave boys and more than ten young savage men were all trusted and favored by the three Oarsmen. They were being cultivated with the intention of becoming leaders who could manage slaves independently when they grew up.

These forty youths were short and lightweight, so Ulf had selected several dozen sturdy reindeer from the Inuit slaves in the city to serve as their mounts.

The city had limited cattle and horses, all of which were in use, so they had to temporarily use reindeer as mounts for these youths and short-statured young savages. As long as they didn’t wear armor, these reindeer could carry them for over ten miles. The only drawback was that they could only maintain a run for about a hundred steps before tiring.

The North American reindeer on Vinland Island had an average shoulder height of only one meter one to one meter two and weighed between one hundred thirty to one hundred sixty kilograms. The largest ones were only one meter three tall and weighed two hundred kilograms, smaller than the short-statured Mongolian horses, and about the same size as the hybrid native horses commonly found in the Ming Dynasty, Korea, and Yunnan at the time, though they were much lighter.

They were absolutely unsuitable as cavalry mounts, but they posed no problem for youths and shorter, lighter individuals to ride. They were an emergency substitute for mounts in Hrut City at the moment.

Olaf looked carefully ahead and saw that the group of savages was led by two white men on horseback, who appeared to be his father, Haldor, and his uncle, Hrutik. Behind them was a long line of Viking militia.

“It’s Dad! City Lord Haldor has returned with savage captives!”

Ulf also saw the situation ahead and laughed heartily before riding forward to greet them.

Olaf quickly led his people to follow. After the father and son reunion, they chatted warmly before merging into one group and returning to Hrut City.

Hrut City was located northeast of what would later be known as Trepassey Harbor. The terrain here wasn’t very high, and the overall landscape was flat, with numerous hills, small mountains, and ponds visible everywhere. Due to years of development by Haig, unlike the pools around Razor Mountain, which had long been filled in, the city had taken shape after hundreds of people had worked diligently from last year until now.

Haldor led over two thousand Beothuk and over two hundred Inuit back to Hrut City. From afar, they could see the stone and earth walls in the north, standing as tall as a person, and behind them, the castle of Haldor.

The Beothuk and Inuit slaves, under the leadership of white slaves and Icelanders, transported stones and soil to build the walls. Entering the city, they could see white slaves and savage slaves constructing houses, digging and repairing drainage channels, and over a dozen white slaves busy digging wells. The scene was bustling with hundreds of people, none of whom were idle.

“Very good.”

Haldor looked at the three rows of sturdy longhouses built around his castle, the neat houses, and clean streets, and nodded with a smile. He was clearly satisfied with Hoskuld and Jot’s management of Hrut City during his absence.

The urban layout of Hrut City was now taking shape. As the core figures in Vinland, most Icelanders and some white slaves lived around the castle, with the outer areas housing other white slaves.

Between Haig Fortress and Hrut City, in the low-lying area, there were hundreds of houses where most of the savage slaves lived. They were still cutting timber and building wooden houses every day to prepare for the arrival of thousands of savages.

Due to the extensive construction, the trees around Hrut City had nearly disappeared, forcing the slaves to venture deep into the Avalon Forest to the north for timber. It seemed it would take more than ten years to restore the greenery.

Among the natives, some belonged to the seven Oarsmen, and some were savage slaves owned by white slaves and Icelandic families. These savages were the private property of the chiefs, freemen, and even white slaves, living either in their masters’ homes or in small huts built next to their masters’ houses.

The current Hrut City, with a population of several thousand, already had the beginnings of a city. With a little more construction, it would become a brand-new city.

Olaf, Ulf, and the others saw Hrut City improving and expanding every day, so they didn’t notice the changes much. But for Haldor, Hrutik, and the Viking militia who hadn’t seen it for over two months, their second hometown, Hrut City, had truly become more magnificent and grand.

As Haldor and his group entered Hrut City, Hoskuld and the five Oarsmen in the city, along with several managers, came out to greet them.

The scene became lively as everyone met. Haldor was very pleased and first called Blackstone and Olos to his side. After introducing them to everyone, he pulled Hoskuld and Jot aside and said, “Olos and Blackstone can assist you in managing the over five thousand people from Great Waterfall City. I see you’ve already arranged for the over two thousand elderly, women, and children who arrived earlier to build houses. These over two thousand strong men and warriors need to be managed properly. You go and settle them first, and we’ll talk and drink in my castle tonight.”

Hoskuld and Jot had developed a good understanding after more than two months of working together. They glanced at Olos and Blackstone, who wore humble smiles, then nodded and led the two men to the warrior troops behind Haldor. They first learned about the composition and various situations before making temporary group arrangements.

Originally, the houses in the savage slave residential area on the west side of Hrut City could only accommodate less than two thousand people. Over a month, several dozen shorter longhouses had been built, which could now house over four thousand people.

But now, the savages from Great Waterfall City alone numbered over five thousand one hundred, and with the original five hundred plus, there wasn’t enough room.

However, they couldn’t let these laborers and slaves sleep outdoors. Jot and Hoskuld remembered that Haig Fortress now only had over a dozen Icelandic families living there, so it would be a good place to settle them.

After obtaining Haldor’s consent, the over five thousand savage slaves were divided into one thousand three hundred households. One-third of these households were randomly selected to move into Haig Fortress, while the remaining two-thirds stayed in the residential area.

Chapter 46: The Formation of a Thousand-Strong Legion

By the time Hoskuld and Jot had settled the savages, it was already late at night. The exhausted savage slaves, after a day of labor, had fallen into a deep sleep.

Haig Fortress was shrouded in silence. The two men arranged for twelve white slave militiamen to keep watch overnight before riding away from the fortress. Soon, they entered the dark and shadowy Hrut City at the foot of the mountain.

The entire city was mostly pitch-black, with only a few households showing faint glimmers of light through their windows. Only the tallest wooden windows of Haldor’s Castle in the center were open, casting an orange glow. Inside, the sound of singing and clinking glasses could still be heard.

“They’re having quite the lively drink,” Hoskuld remarked, swallowing his saliva, clearly craving a drink himself.

“Let’s go. Tonight, we’re all getting drunk. Ever since Ulf and Olaf returned from Europe this year, we haven’t had a moment’s rest. Tonight, we’re going to enjoy ourselves and relax,” Jot said, dismounting and handing the reins to two white slave guards at the castle entrance.

As Jot and Hoskuld entered the castle, they were spotted by Haldor, who rose from his seat with a hearty laugh, embracing them both before pulling them to sit beside him in the two empty seats that had been vacant for over two hours.

“You’re finally here. How did things go? Are they all settled?” Haldor asked, glancing at the self-striking clock in the corner. “It’s already past ten at night.”

“Everything’s been arranged for now,” Jot replied after downing a large cup of beer. He let out a burp and wiped the foam from his mouth before continuing, “But the scale of your victory in this expedition is beyond anything we could have imagined. You’ve swept through all of northern Vinland and brought back over five thousand savage slaves. Hrut City won’t have to worry about labor shortages anymore.”

The leaders around the long table burst into laughter.

Hoskuld also took a drink but saw a different issue. Frowning, he asked, “Haldor, your development plan for us only required a little over a thousand people. Now we have over five thousand extra slaves, most of them Beothuk. I think we need to adjust how we manage Hrut City.”

Hoskuld’s words plunged everyone into thought. Last winter, the habit of drinking and chatting in Haldor’s Castle had blurred the lines between work and life.

Haldor had only been thinking of quickly unifying Vinland, then ruling over the savages and mobilizing the massive workforce to develop Hrut City. But now that he actually had a large number of savage slaves at his disposal, he was at a loss, unsure of what to do next.

Jot smiled and took a sheepskin scroll from his chest, handing it to Haldor. “Haig sent a letter yesterday. He said he’s already raided dozens of tribes in southern Vinland and has pushed deep into the southeastern corner of Bakens Lake. He’s captured a thousand prisoners and plans to wipe out the Beothuk chieftain’s tribe at Bakens Lake.”

“But he’s worried the Beothuk chieftain’s influence is too strong. If his prisoners are swayed by the Bakens tribe during battle and rise up in rebellion, it could be dangerous. He doesn’t want to fail because of his own carelessness, so he’s requesting we send a fleet up the long river in southwestern Vinland. He’ll send white slaves and savage auxiliary troops to escort the prisoners to the midstream to wait.”

“Once the prisoners are sent away, he can concentrate his forces to destroy the strongest Beothuk chieftain—the Bakens Lake tribe—so Hrut City can unify all of Vinland.”

As Jot spoke, Haldor finished reading Haig’s letter. He said gravely, “From what I’ve gathered, the strongest savage tribe on Vinland Island is the Bakens Lake tribe. They’re the leaders of the Beothuk alliance, with seven or eight thousand people, and their main tribe has over a thousand warriors. They’re very powerful.”

“Haig wants to conquer the Bakens Lake tribe on his own, but it’ll be difficult. I think I should take the Viking militia and some White Wolf Warriors to support him.”

The others followed Haldor’s lead, discussing the matter. Most agreed on conquering the Bakens Lake tribe, and they unanimously decided to reorganize the expeditionary force to provide support.

The seven oarsmen also sent some brave and strong white slaves and savage slaves to contribute to Hrut City’s final conquest.

After settling on the next strategic direction for Hrut City, the group drank merrily until midnight before dispersing.

Olaf went to rest after the serious discussions.

The next morning, Haldor sent a messenger to Haig, urging him to hold off on his offensive until Haldor himself arrived with reinforcements to jointly attack the Bakens Lake tribe.

After breakfast, Haldor and Hrutik began gathering the Viking militia, the Aettangr oarsmen, and the captains. They then brought out the firearms that had been stored in the castle the day before, preparing to take stock of the numbers.

Following the strategy decided the previous night, they formed a core force of eight hundred, consisting of Viking militia and auxiliary troops, with five hundred White Wolf Warriors and elite warriors as the flanks. Combined with Haig’s two hundred men, they would have a thousand-strong army.

With a thousand-strong army, advanced weapons, and high morale from constant victories, they were certain to crush the Beothuk chieftain in one fell swoop, laying a solid foundation for ruling Vinland.

With the full cooperation of the various leaders, the eight-hundred-strong force was assembled before noon. Haldor and Hrutik then led the troops into the northern wetlands for training exercises.

The purpose of this training was primarily to drill commands and coordination. Haldor didn’t demand much else—he only wanted the savage warriors to understand orders, recognize flag signals, and obey commands. The three hundred white troops were already well-coordinated, so as long as the two forces could work together, they would be ready for the expedition.

Hrutik, a seasoned mercenary leader, proved his worth in training. In just two days, the eight-hundred-strong force, composed of two entirely different groups, began to take shape.

Five days later, after another training session, Haldor and Hrutik were satisfied. The next morning, they led the legion by ship away from Hrut City and Turning Point, sailing along the southern coast of Vinland Island toward the west. By that afternoon, they had reached the lower reaches of the long river in the west.

On November 3rd, after resting for a night, the ships began sailing upstream. After traveling about ten nautical miles, the river narrowed. Some white slaves disembarked to pull the ships through a bend near a waterfall, where they docked.

Haldor sent scouts on horseback to explore the surroundings and see if they could find Haig’s men.

After waiting over three hours, just as the army was about to eat lunch, the scouts returned with one of Haig’s white slave guards.

“My lord is camped with the militia not far to the north,” the white slave soldier reported concisely to Haldor.

Haldor asked, “Did Haig receive my letter?”

“He received it three days ago.”

Haldor pressed further, “Why hasn’t Haig come to see me?”

“My lord asked me to inform you first. He will come personally later with over a thousand savage slaves.”

Haldor nodded and dismissed the white slave soldier with a wave.

By the time the afternoon sun was setting, Haig and Kadir arrived with over a thousand people. Haldor invited the two onto the ship to talk, then gathered detailed information about the Bakens Lake tribe from Haig and finalized their battle plan.

Immediately after, Haldor led the eight hundred troops ashore to assemble. Haig then ordered the three savage slave leaders he had appointed to board the ships with the slaves. Several Icelandic musketeers and white slave spearmen also boarded, serving as the military escort for the prisoners.

Because Haig had ruthlessly slaughtered chieftains, priests, and any warriors who dared to resist along the way, the twelve hundred savage prisoners feared him deeply. Now, a single soldier with a firelock musket could keep a thousand of them in line without so much as a breath of defiance. When Haig was angry, even the children and women among the savage slaves would tremble in fear, and the men would turn pale.

Thus, six soldiers and three newly promoted savage leaders were enough to turn over a thousand savage slaves into docile sheep, obediently boarding the ships.

Often, this is how it goes—when people are afraid, they lose the will to resist, even if they have the strength to do so.

Chapter 47: The Frenchman’s Movements

Due to the increasing population of Hrut City, the mixed-rigged schooners remained at Oxhorn Peninsula, fishing daily to supplement the city’s dwindling food supply with their abundant catches. This time, the fleet consisted of only five ships.

To accommodate more people, the three armed merchant ships had even unloaded their smallest nine-pound cannons, which Hrutik had ordered to be transported by ox carts, preparing to use them to breach the walls of the Bakens Lake tribe during the attack.

After the five large ships departed, Haldor sighed deeply, looking at Haig with admiration before turning to Hrutik and Kadir beside him. “In Haig’s presence, even the strongest savage warriors seem like mice. I think his iron-fisted approach to dealing with the savages is more effective than my gentle methods.”

Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and Kadir led a thousand-strong army northward along the midstream banks of the Triumph River. As night approached, they arrived at Haig’s previous temporary camp.

Pointing north into the darkness, Haig said, “I’ve already sent scouts. About two hundred and fifty miles further north lies Bakens Lake. The Beothuk’s main allied tribe is located at the northeastern corner of the long lake.”

“From my observations over the past two days, they seem to have noticed our strategic intentions. Now, all the tribes around the long lake are gathering and relocating there. Many strong warriors have also been transferred to the long lake tribe. I estimate the population there has now reached four thousand.”

Hrutik sneered, “Ignorant savages. They must have heard from the northern and southern tribes we’ve destroyed that we’re planning to eliminate all savage tribes. They’re trying to gather all their alliance members to resist us. What fools. Even if they can temporarily support five or six thousand people with the lake’s resources, once it gets colder and the lake freezes, these savages will have to scatter to survive. Even if we don’t attack them, the long lake tribe will be drained by the excessive number of alliance members joining them. Many will likely freeze or starve to death this winter.”

The three men realized he was right. Kadir laughed heartily, “Perhaps they’ve learned from the refugees of other tribes about our strength. To resist us, they’ve had to make sacrifices.”

Haldor snorted, scratching his itchy scalp. “If we didn’t have enough strength, we’d have to let them go this year. But now that these savages are gathered at the long lake, it’s the perfect opportunity to defeat and enslave them all at once. We have long guns, cannons, plate armor, and the finest soldiers on Vinland Island. Even against ten thousand savage warriors, we can still win.”

Haldor’s resolute words strengthened the resolve of the other three. The next morning, after breakfast, the thousand-strong army packed up and left the crude camp, led by the white slave scouts trained by Haig, slowly approaching the northern long lake.

Four days later, Haldor led the army past the southern lake group, still called the Small Long Lake, and reached the southern shore of the long lake, where they established a camp.

The long lake was shaped like an upper crescent moon. Haldor’s camp was built on the inner side of the southern crescent. Further south was an irregular long, narrow small lake. Standing on the shore, one could clearly see the faint outline of villages on the distant northeastern shore—that was the location of the long lake tribe.

As they approached the long lake, large and small tribes came into view. Some were old villages, others clearly newly built wooden houses. Along the way, five hundred savage warriors had conquered all these tribes. This time, there was no mass slaughter. Instead, after ordering the tribal leaders to pledge loyalty to Haldor, the “Heavenly God,” they plundered their food supplies and led the tribal leaders as slaves, following the auxiliary troops.

Now, as they were about to attack the long lake tribe, it was inconvenient to bring too many savage slaves. Haldor planned to let these tribal leaders witness firsthand how powerful the Heavenly God’s army was and how their overlord was destroyed, thereby making them completely submit.

Although Haldor’s army far outnumbered the savages of various tribes, some savages still took the opportunity to escape, which led to the Bakens Lake tribe learning of Haldor’s army’s movements and location.

Thus, that evening, a small group of savage warriors, led by two White Wolf Warriors, approached Haldor’s army’s camp, both to scout and to harass.

The night watch at Haldor’s camp consisted of savage warriors, as well as Icelandic and white slave militia. The enemy was discovered as soon as they approached. Several White Wolf Warriors first reported to two Icelandic musketeer lords, then quietly went into hiding.

After a while, the group of savage warriors tried to sneak into the camp to kill a few people but were ambushed by the hidden White Wolf Warriors, who killed two of them. Then, several gunshots rang out, and the battle ended.

Among the Bakens Lake tribe’s warriors, the leading White Wolf Warrior was shot dead by the Icelandic musketeers, and the other was killed in the encirclement. The remaining warriors, realizing that the eastern white men truly possessed heavenly fire and thunder, instantly knelt down and begged for mercy.

Half an hour later, Hrutik interrogated several captured warriors in a large tent made of beast hides and wood, then went to find Haldor.

“Haldor, those warriors from the long lake tribe have confessed. Their tribe now has five thousand people, including over three thousand men and warriors. More importantly, their High Priest seems to have contacted the French across the strait, asking for their help. It’s said that a group of French musketeers will arrive tomorrow.”

Hrutik brought bad news, which instantly jolted Haldor from his daze. He then summoned Haig and Kadir, and the two discussed the matter for half a day after hearing the news.

Haldor quickly composed himself and looked at Haig, asking, “You’ve dealt with Quebec more. Do you think the French will help the Beothuk?”

“It’s probably true. Four months ago, Quebec’s fleet didn’t receive our furs, and their captain was very angry. I think this time, Champlain of Quebec is deliberately sending people to support the Beothuk. From what I know of Champlain, although his intention is to cause trouble for us, his real purpose is to mediate the conflicts in Vinland. After all, a unified Vinland Island doesn’t align with French interests.”

After deep thought, Haig slowly shared his thoughts. Everyone fell into contemplation. After a long while, Kadir asked, “Haig, how many people do the French have in Quebec?”

Haig thought for a moment and said, “Less than four hundred. Quebec City seems to have only over eighty white people and four hundred Indian slaves. The rest are scattered in various outposts, some traveling by ship between America and Europe.”

“Not many. We don’t need to fear them.”

Kadir’s eyes gleamed as he said, “America is a treasure trove now, with countless slaves and resources, vast lands, and endless timber, furs, and fish. We, the French, and the British are actually competitors. As British and French immigrants increase, we will inevitably go to war with them.”

“I think it’s better to take advantage of our current strength and their weakness to defeat them, making the British and French know that we Icelanders are not to be trifled with.”

Chapter 48: The French Motive

Kadir and Haig were fearless men, and even knowing the French were involved did not intimidate them.

Haig pondered the situation in the North American colonies and laughed heartily. “Over the past two years, the number of English, Scottish, and Irish immigrants in New England has been growing—now there must be five or six thousand. Though their struggles with the Indians have tied up their strength, the British have already seized the two French outposts on the southeastern coast. I’ve heard from English fishermen that the British colonial companies are even preparing to attack Quebec City and drive the French out. Heh, this is the perfect time for us to strike against the French!”

Haldor considered this and agreed it was time to demonstrate their military might.

“Good. Tomorrow, we begin our assault on the Bakens Lake tribe. If we encounter any French, we’ll defeat and capture them as well.”

Compared to Haig’s earlier experiences in Vinland, the British and French colonists had suffered far worse.

Haig, having been warned by Olaf about the importance of colonial rule, had brought white slaves and a small number of Icelanders to Vinland. He avoided the heartland of the Beothuk and instead established a camp on the southeastern peninsula. There, he relied on capturing savages to increase his labor force, while the Newfoundland fishing grounds and the peninsula’s wetlands and forests provided ample food, sparing him the famines that plagued the French and British colonists on the eastern coast.

Additionally, because he was far from the tribal lands of the savage alliance, Haig had never been attacked by the larger Beothuk tribes, giving him a significant advantage over the New England colonists on the eastern coast.

Though the French colonists had a good relationship with the Huron savages—even forming an alliance—the savages on the mainland had their own deadly rivalries. The most powerful Iroquois alliance on the eastern coast had become bitter enemies with the French, constantly attacking their colonies.

From the early seventeenth century until 1628, the death rate in British and French colonies had been as high as one-third. While some died from disease, most were killed by savages or starved to death due to warfare and sieges. In contrast, Haig’s colony had a death rate of just over one-tenth before stabilizing. Once the number of savage slaves increased, the death rate rose again, but the white population remained largely intact.

Before the end of the Thirty Years’ War in Europe, France and Britain had neither the will nor the resources to heavily invest in their North American colonies. Even decades later, when they had the means, they were reluctant to waste resources there. Their methods of developing North America remained backward, relying on colonial companies and self-sufficient development by criminals and landless whites.

Compared to France’s colonies in Central and South America and Britain’s in India, North America had always been the neglected stepchild. The seeds of its future independence were already being sown.

The next morning, after breakfast, Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and Kadir—four chieftains—led a thousand-strong army of Viking militia and savage warriors out of their camp, marching north.

They advanced rapidly, ignoring any savage tribes they encountered. By afternoon, they reached the northeastern shore of Bakens Lake, where they saw the stone-built temple fortress of the Bakens Lake tribe two miles away.

The Bakens Lake tribe was the most powerful native force on the island of Vinland, controlling hundreds of square kilometers of land and a population of nearly ten thousand. Their main warrior force numbered seventeen to eighteen hundred, with over three hundred White Wolf Warriors—making them nearly invincible. Yet now, as Haldor’s army approached, the tribe withdrew into their city. The High Priest and a white officer spoke urgently.

This white officer was the guard captain of the New France Colony, a close comrade of Governor Champlain, and a distant nephew of the Prince of Condé—Francis de Bourbon.

Though Francis was a member of the Bourbon family, his lineage was distant. His grandfather had been the youngest son of the first prince, leaving him with only a small estate. Still, the men of the Bourbon family sought glory on the battlefield. The current Prince of Condé, Henry II, had appointed Champlain to govern New France in his stead and sent Francis as his deputy to assist in managing the mid- and low-ranking officers.

That summer, British merchants, seeking to monopolize the fur trade in Quebec, had repeatedly raided French outposts. They used armed merchant ships and armed white slaves to blockade French ports, cutting off food supplies to Quebec City in hopes of forcing Champlain to negotiate—or even surrender the city.

Quebec City was built on the middle reaches of the Saint Lawrence River, where the river began to widen. With its rich waterways and connections, the French had forged deep alliances with the Huron. However, since Quebec City was primarily a fur trade outpost, it produced little food and relied entirely on supplies from coastal settlements.

In August, Champlain had sent Francis with two hundred guards to Gaspe Peninsula at the southern end of the river’s mouth to ensure the Huron and French fishermen could supply Quebec with food.

By October, the Beothuk alliance on Vinland (known to the French as Newfoundland) had sent a priest across the Belle Isle Strait to the French at Red Bay, a Basque whaling station, requesting support.

For years, the Icelanders on Vinland had been docile, and Champlain and Francis had been content to have an Icelandic colony there, maintaining peaceful relations.

But that summer, the British had targeted New France. The Icelanders, now led by Haldor in a city renamed Hrut City, were no longer submissive. They refused to sell furs to the French and had begun a campaign of conquest and enslavement across the island.

This alarmed Champlain, who sent Francis with an army to Vinland to repel the Icelanders and teach them a lesson. Then, they would seek an alliance to preserve New France’s position amid threats from the British and the Iroquois.

The Beothuk on the southern islands of the Belle Isle Strait had long traded with the French.

The northern Red Bay Basque whaling station, established over a century ago by the Basques, was the second group after the Icelandic Vikings to settle in North America. The French Basques fished and hunted whales there, drying cod to sell in Europe for vast profits.

Later, the British discovered the rich fishing grounds of Newfoundland, and each year, over a hundred fishing ships competed there. Though the fishing grounds remained abundant, the docking and drying stations were strained. Still, the catch was unaffected.

Now, the Red Bay Basque whaling station had been taken over by the “Champlain-Gon Company,” a merged colonial enterprise that produced dried cod and traded furs.

After receiving Champlain’s orders, Francis led 180 musketeers and the priest of the Bakens Lake tribe by ship to Red Bay. There, he recruited five hundred Huron warriors before sailing to the southern shore of Vinland, marching day and night to reach the Bakens Lake tribe.

Chapter 49: The Cannons Roar

Haldor’s army had arrived just two miles from the Long Lake tribal city when Francis had only been there for less than twelve hours. Before he could even get a good night’s sleep, the High Priest had summoned him, urgently requesting Francis to repel the powerful Icelanders.

The Long Lake tribe was unlike other backward tribes. As the leading tribe, they had long established fur trade with the French, and the High Priest and other high-ranking members had witnessed the power of the French firelock muskets.

They had always scoffed at Haldor’s claims of a Heavenly God who wielded heavenly fire and thunder. But after learning of the destruction of Great Waterfall City in the north and many southern tribes, the Long Lake tribe, not wanting to be annihilated by Hrut City, sent someone to invite the French.

They believed only the French whites, who also possessed firelock muskets, could deal with the Icelandic whites on the southeastern peninsula.

“Monsieur Bourbon, please go into battle quickly. The enemy from the southeastern peninsula is already at our doorstep. Our High Priest says that if you can repel the enemy, all the furs on the island will be sold to you in the future.”

Next to Francis was a Beothuk who spoke French. His French wasn’t good, but he tried his best to translate the High Priest’s words for Francis.

“A bunch of Icelanders and white slaves, relying at most on the power of firelock muskets. Today, I will show you savages what the strength of the French Royal Guard is.”

Like other Gallic roosters, Francis exuded an innate arrogance. He never looked directly at the North American savages, even if the one before him was the High Priest who controlled thousands of people.

Mr. Francis coldly spoke and turned to leave the room, then ordered his one hundred and eighty guards to form up and go into battle.

Francis wore half plate armor, a red-tasseled steel helmet, and held a command sword while riding a purebred Arabian horse. He looked exceptionally handsome and towering, appearing like a celestial being in the eyes of the tribal warriors.

The Beothuk warriors had gathered over three thousand men, but Francis had no interest in fighting alongside this ragtag group.

Under the guidance of Francis’ subordinate officers, five hundred Huron warriors formed a square, with forty-five musketeers protected at each of the four corners. This was a simplified version of the Maurice square, and since the Huron warriors had cooperated with Francis many times, they used it quite skillfully. The Beothuk people lacked the martial prowess of the mainland savages and had never trained together, so Francis only planned to let them assist him, acting freely.

Led by Francis, the nearly seven hundred-strong square marched at the front, followed by over three thousand Beothuk warriors. The army marched out of the tribal gates in a grand procession, steadily advancing toward the thousand-strong army visible to the south.

In today’s Europe, battles were still primarily fought with lined-up musket volleys, close combat, and the construction of bastions to occupy strategic points.

If facing any European country’s army, Francis would first defend the city, probe the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses, and then consider whether to engage. But in his eyes, the enemy was just a ragtag group of Icelanders, white slaves, and savages, looking similar to his own troops but without professional training and certainly no match for him.

Francis was confident, so he directly led his troops out of the city to engage, aiming to crush the enemy in one fell swoop and show the Icelanders and Beothuk the might of the French Kingdom and himself, Captain Bourbon.

The Huron and Iroquois had been at war for hundreds of years, and their warriors were fierce and fearless, far stronger than the island’s Beothuk. The French musketeers also had strong discipline and combat will, able to stand firm during lined-up musket volleys, not retreating or fearing even if their comrades were shot down beside them.

If following the normal lined-up musket volley battle method, the quality of Haldor’s musketeers and long spearmen indeed couldn’t match Francis’ troops. Perhaps after just three volleys, the Viking militia would crumble and ultimately lose the battle.

But the cautious Haldor also brought twelve nine-pound cannons.

Initially, Haldor was also leading his army north, but upon seeing a large square emerge from the enemy’s gates, with a similar number of troops to his own, Haldor realized it was a square formed by French soldiers and savage warriors, with even more savage warriors behind it. Haldor’s heart trembled, knowing he was about to face a tough battle.

With a swing of his large axe, Haldor shouted, “Halt!”

After the command was relayed layer by layer, the Viking militia stopped advancing. Hrutik raised an eyebrow and pointed ahead, saying, “Should we use the cannons?”

Haldor nodded and said, “Although our soldiers are all wearing plate armor, the enemy also has French musketeers, and their numbers are not less than ours. If we really fight, we are very likely to be at a disadvantage. It’s better to use cannons to disrupt their formation before attacking.”

Both Haldor and Hrutik had experienced the great war between Denmark and Sweden in their youth and had witnessed the power of cannons on the battlefield. Although cannons were mainly used for defending and attacking cities, some light cannons were also used in field battles. However, due to their inconvenience to carry and their impact on the speed of attack and retreat, the number of cannons deployed on European battlefields was much less than in the future.

In fact, Haldor and Hrutik didn’t know that a few years later, the North European lion Gustavus Adolphus II would improve cannons and form an artillery unit that would shine in the Thirty Years’ War, repeatedly defeating the German army, and only then would various countries belatedly develop field cannons and artillery units.

Hrutik had a stronger military acumen than Haldor. He pulled Haldor’s hand and reminded him, “Don’t rush. We don’t have professional artillerymen. The current white slave artillerymen are still my newly trained students, and their accuracy is very poor. Let the enemy come closer before letting the artillerymen act, then we can take advantage of the chaos to fire our muskets and kill the enemy soldiers, and finally charge forward.”

Haldor sighed, “Yes, I almost forgot that our artillerymen are still rookies. You should go to the rear to guide them.”

Hrutik nodded and turned his horse to go to the rear of the square, where five carriages were pulling eighteen nine-pound cannons.

The nine-pound cannon was the smallest type of cannon, weighing only a little over two hundred pounds, with a range of only four hundred to six hundred meters. Its power was truly unimpressive, and whether for attacking cities or naval battles, it was barely better than nothing.

But even with nine-pound cannons, if fired in concentration to form a barrage, they could still cause great harm to soldiers. Hrutik went to the rear and ordered the white slave soldiers to unload the eighteen cannons, set them up, and adjust the cannon mouths.

To make the cannons strike the enemy as close as possible, Hrutik adjusted the cannon angles to thirty-five degrees toward the sky and then personally checked each one before calling the newly trained artillerymen to the cannons to explain the key points of use again.

Because there was a square of a thousand soldiers blocking the front, Francis and his army couldn’t see the two rows of eighteen cannons behind Haldor’s Viking militia square.

“The enemy has stopped and is waiting for us to attack. This is a sign of cowardice. Soldiers, follow me and accelerate. Musketeers, get ready.”

Francis narrowed his eyes, watching the Viking militia square in the distance become clearer as the distance shrank, and the tall and burly figures of Haldor, Haig, and Kadir riding horses on the right side of the square. He also saw clearly that the enemy’s mounted leaders and hundreds or thousands of soldiers were all wearing full plate armor. This made Francis’ heart tremble, and he sneered.

“Good heavens, these Icelanders are so rich. No wonder they can flatten half of Newfoundland. It turns out they have plate armor. Savages really can’t do anything about plate armor. But in the face of muskets, plate armor has lost its absolute defensive glory. Watch my French muskets break your plate armor.”

Francis coldly hummed, calculating the distance between the two armies. Feeling it was already three hundred paces, he gripped the command sword in his hand, preparing to give the order to fire after getting fifty paces closer.

He was very confident in the skills of his French musketeers and the muskets produced by the kingdom. Past experience showed a 30% hit rate when firing within three hundred paces, a 40% hit rate at two hundred and eighty paces, and a 50% hit rate at two hundred and fifty paces.

Francis had already imagined that a few seconds later, at his command, as the gunfire sounded and smoke rose, the ragtag enemy would fall like wheat being cut down, then scatter like rats, completely routed.

Two hundred and ninety paces.

Two hundred and eighty paces.

Two hundred and seventy paces.

Francis slowly took a deep breath, ready to shout “Fire” at any moment. But suddenly, he saw the tall leader riding a yellow-maned horse in front swing his large axe violently, and he felt puzzled. He didn’t believe that the Icelandic musketeers and muskets were better than the French, so he thought they were scared and couldn’t help but fire early.

“You can fire first. When your bullets are spent, it will be the time for us to harvest your lives.” Francis’ mouth curled up, and he couldn’t help but almost laugh.

“Bang bang.”

Francis suddenly felt the ground tremble slightly, then heard the familiar and loud sound of cannon fire.

His eyes widened, clearly seeing clouds of smoke rise from behind the Icelandic soldier square, followed by many iron ball cannonballs flying into the sky and rapidly falling towards them.

“Damn cannons!”

Chapter 50: Victory

When the two armies were two hundred and seventy paces apart, Francis saw the enemy’s cannons hidden behind their square formation fire, and heard the thunderous roar of the cannon blast. In that instant, he had no time to think—he instinctively rolled off his horse, only managing to shout, “Damn those cannons!”

Then, eighteen iron balls, each the size of a palm, whistled through the air and slammed into the square formation of French musketeers and Huron warriors.

A nine-pound cannon meant its bore could fire a nine-pound iron ball—about four kilograms in later times. Though not large, the kinetic energy propelled by gunpowder was formidable; in naval battles, it could still punch holes in ships.

Eighteen cannons fired simultaneously, and the iron balls, carrying the scent of gunpowder, crashed into the formation. Since Francis’s troops stood only about one and a half meters apart, the formation was relatively tight. Of the eighteen cannonballs, only one missed—seventeen iron balls instantly tore through the unprepared French soldiers and Huron warriors, shattering skulls or piercing bodies. After killing one man, the iron balls, undiminished in force, changed direction and killed two more before hitting the ground.

A single volley of cannon fire killed thirty-eight men—thirteen French musketeers and twenty-five Huron warriors.

Nearly twenty men had been killed by falling iron balls before they could even close in. Seeing the mangled bodies of their comrades and the French musketeers, the Huron warriors felt a pang of fear. Francis stood up and shouted, “Cannons don’t fire quickly! Hurry and advance! Shoot and kill the enemy! Huron warriors, charge!”

Francis’s command rallied the well-trained French soldiers, who quickly regrouped the Huron warriors. The now-deformed square formation surged forward, while the French musketeers raised their firelock muskets, aiming at the enemy ahead, waiting for Francis’s order to fire.

Francis abandoned his horse and marched on foot. When the distance closed to two hundred and fifty paces, he ordered the attack. The French musketeers halted and fired, and as expected, dozens of enemies fell. Then, methodically, the musketeers reloaded while marching, with the Huron warriors charging ahead to shield them.

Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and Kadir, riding to the rear of the formation, saw the Beothuk warriors at the front—protected by the leather armor Haldor had bestowed—fall to the French muskets, around thirty of them. Though the leather armor offered some protection, a musket shot could still inflict heavy casualties.

The Beothuk feared the muskets. Seeing their comrades drop instantly, they grew uneasy.

Sensing the formation wavering, Haldor and the others quickly dispersed to different positions to maintain discipline, ordering the Viking militia to hold their ground. The presence of the four leaders and the Heavenly God steadied the Beothuk warriors.

Hrutik, in command, calculated the distance between the two forces. Waving his military banner, he shouted, “Beothuk warriors and long spearmen, flank and charge! Musketeers, prepare to fire—one, two, three—fire!”

At his command, the musketeers, already positioned and aimed, ignited their fuses. A thunderous explosion followed—not as deafening as the cannons, but concentrated and chaotic.

The Icelandic musketeers fired when the distance had closed to two hundred paces—a range Hrutik had deliberately chosen to improve their accuracy.

The Viking militia’s formation was not as disciplined as the French soldiers, but the French were few, mostly Huron warriors. The overall quality of both sides was similar.

Hrutik and Haldor knew that such troops would struggle to maintain formation during a charge—likely scattering within two hundred paces. To preserve the Viking militia’s formation, they ordered them to wait for the enemy’s charge, then counterattack after the French fired.

Sixty Icelandic musketeers and twenty white slave musketeers fired simultaneously. At two hundred paces, the Viking musketeers’ accuracy improved dramatically, and dozens of Huron warriors fell instantly—roughly forty or fifty.

The enemy’s already disorganized ranks collapsed entirely after losing a tenth of their numbers. Most Huron warriors scattered, charging forward to close the distance before the next volley, hoping to engage the Viking militia in melee combat where their strength lay. A few, however, were too terrified—their steps faltered, ready to flee at any moment.

At two hundred paces, infantry could only manage two more volleys before closing. The musketeers reloaded swiftly, while the white slave long spearmen and the armed Beothuk warriors charged forward.

The Huron and Beothuk warriors clashed violently, both wielding iron swords and long spears gifted by their white masters, unleashing fierce combat. The battlefield echoed with war cries, and every moment, a warrior fell.

The white slave long spearmen followed closely, their spears thrusting in unison, killing any Huron warrior who tried to break through.

The Huron had only five hundred warriors. After losing seventy or eighty to cannons and muskets, only about three hundred brave souls remained. Though they held their own against the four hundred Beothuk warriors—each Huron taking a Beothuk with them—the arrival of the white slave long spearmen quickly turned the tide.

The well-coordinated long spearmen became a meat grinder, slaughtering any Huron who approached. Even if a Huron warrior managed to reach them, their weapons could not penetrate the plate armor of the long spearmen. Instead, they were instantly skewered by spears from all directions.

Half the Huron warriors were soon killed. As the survivors prepared to flee, the three thousand warriors of the Long Lake tribe arrived.

Francis was about to order the French musketeers to fire in support when Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and Kadir—four riders—charged like a small cavalry unit, wielding long spears and large axes, cutting through the Long Lake warriors.

The Long Lake warriors had never seen cavalry before. The sound of hooves and the sight of the four charging riders filled them with terror, and they tried to turn and flee.

But Haldor and his companions were faster. In the blink of an eye, they were upon the Long Lake warriors, bending low to swing their weapons—large axes, long spears, and long knives easily killing seven or eight leading White Wolf Warriors.

Before their charge, the four had ordered the musketeers to flank and attack the Long Lake Beothuk warriors, while the artillerymen fired at the rear French musketeers and the Long Lake warriors behind them.

With another swing, Haldor cleaved a White Wolf Warrior in two. Then, he heard the thunderous roar of cannons behind him.

From his tall frame atop his horse, he saw the French soldiers preparing to fire all drop to the ground. Still, two cannonballs struck two unlucky souls who reacted too slowly, while over twenty Long Lake warriors were killed in the rear.

“Hah! Excellent!”

Haldor, Haig, Hrutik, and Kadir were all towering, powerful warriors with formidable martial skills. Riding together, they formed a small cavalry unit, moving like the wind through the Long Lake warriors, reaping lives and striking fear into their hearts. The Long Lake warriors shrank back, shouting something. Haig, who understood some Beothuk, laughed and said, “They say we are the incarnations of the god of death.”

“Hah!”

Kadir laughed heartily. Hrutik’s scarred eye twitched, and Haldor declared loudly, “Today, let’s show these fools the scythe of the god of death!”

After the eighteen cannons fired, eighty musketeers opened fire almost simultaneously, and another swath of Long Lake warriors fell like cut wheat.

The leading White Wolf Warriors and war priests of the Long Lake tribe were nearly wiped out. Seeing Haldor and his companions’ unstoppable might, and the devastating power of the cannons and muskets, the remaining warriors lost all will to fight.

Blackstone, leading a small squad to slaughter the remaining Huron warriors, saw the Long Lake warriors—who had initially attacked them—suddenly retreat. He shouted, “The Heavenly God has descended! His might is unstoppable! Ignorant fools of Long Lake, kneel and beg for mercy! Those who kneel and surrender may be spared! Those who resist will have their souls tormented forever!”

As Blackstone spoke, the Beothuk warriors of Hrut City repeated his words, their voices growing unified and echoing through the sky. Many Long Lake warriors turned pale, kneeling and kowtowing, while others turned and fled toward their stronghold.

Seeing the Long Lake tribe’s army crumble and flee, Haldor laughed heartily. Hrutik first ordered the cannons to fire one last volley, then, seeing the Long Lake warriors in full retreat, raised his arm and shouted, “Charge! Pursue and kill!”

At Hrutik’s command, the Viking militia formed up and advanced slowly, five hundred strong, a high-spirited battalion. The four hundred warriors, however, did not pursue immediately—they gathered prisoners, finished off the wounded, and consolidated their position.

Three volleys from the twelve nine-pound cannons utterly shattered the Long Lake warriors’ morale. Five more French soldiers were struck, and before Francis could react, the fleeing savage horde scattered his formation, even trampling several soldiers to death.

“Damn it!” Francis turned and fled, shouting, “Run! Quickly! Don’t get trampled!”

Chapter 51: Haldor Unites Vinland

The morale of the Long Lake tribe and the Viking army shifted dramatically during the pursuit and rout. The warriors of the Long Lake tribe either surrendered or were killed, and by the time they all fled into the city and closed the gates, only half remained.

The Viking militia had blocked the eastern gate of the Long Lake tribe, while another group of warriors guarded the nearly one thousand captured Long Lake warriors.

The remnants of the French and Long Lake forces, like stray dogs, huddled behind the city gates, gathering in front of the temple with wooden poles, awaiting the High Priest’s orders.

Upon learning of the defeat, the High Priest of the Long Lake tribe saw the remnants of his forces and nearly fainted. He was horrified and incredulous that his three thousand troops, supported by five hundred French soldiers, had been so quickly defeated by the mere thousand-strong army of Hrut City.

Francis was also pale, his expression dazed, his clothes disheveled. He struggled to accept the fact that he had been utterly defeated by the ragtag Icelanders, especially since his side had outnumbered them.

Behind Francis stood fewer than one hundred and thirty French soldiers, their uniforms in disarray, their faces covered in dust, many of them having lost their firearms.

Outside the castle, the Viking militia surrounded the gates. The sound of hooves approached, and the four leaders arrived to observe the low castle walls.

“Naive savages, they think this tiny castle can stop us,” Haig sneered.

“I think we should bombard them with cannons,” Hrutik added.

Raising his whip and pointing at the walls before him, Haldor coldly ordered, “Indeed, what good is hiding inside? Pass the word: keep firing the cannons until they surrender.”

Following Haldor’s command, eighteen cannons were dragged to the front of the city. Hrutik personally adjusted the cannon barrels, and twelve of them were angled at forty-five degrees toward the sky. They were lit simultaneously, firing twelve cannonballs that whistled through the air and landed inside the city. The remaining six cannons targeted the walls and gates.

As the cannonballs rained down, the warriors gathered in front of the temple suffered heavy casualties. Francis quickly pulled the High Priest down, and they both took cover behind the temple.

Boom!

Haldor’s army had brought enough cannonballs and gunpowder. After half an hour of continuous bombardment, the gates were already in ruins, and the warriors inside had scattered to various corners.

Through the gate, it was clear there was little resistance left inside. Haig laughed and, along with Kadir, led a group of long spearmen, musketeers, and White Wolf Warriors into the city.

The Viking militia and warriors then poured into the city, spreading out to loot and burn. Shouts and cries echoed from every corner.

By the time the sun began to set, every member of the Viking army had returned laden with furs, jade, and slaves, gathering in front of the temple.

The White Wolf Warriors and others also returned with captives and looted glass beads, mirrors, swords, and other iron goods, their faces flushed with excitement.

Haldor and Haig ascended the stone steps in front of the temple, while Hrutik and Kadir maintained order within the city.

Soon, Valitu, Lunde, and Blackstone brought the disheveled Francis and the High Priest forward.

Haig sneered, pulling out a firelock musket already loaded with bullets. In front of the six thousand people in the city, he fired a shot that shattered the High Priest’s skull. He then cruelly laughed, “This is the fate of those who defy the gods. Who else dares to resist and refuses to submit to Hrut City?”

Blackstone and the other warriors repeated Haig’s words in the Beothuk language, ensuring everyone in the city heard clearly. All the savages knelt on the ground in terror and pain.

Haldor remained silent, glancing at Francis. He noticed the young Frenchman seemed shaken by the sight of the High Priest’s corpse being shot at close range. “Young man, what is your name?” Haldor asked, his tone calm.

Haldor was in his early forties, speaking to Francis in a gentle tone.

Francis had always considered himself a brave French warrior who sought honor, one who would face death with the dignity of a nobleman and a soldier of the kingdom. But the defeat and the sight of the white-bearded giant shooting the High Priest’s head had left him trembling, his body covered in cold sweat.

When Haldor kindly inquired, the well-educated Francis recognized the giant’s words as a mix of Latin and English with a slight accent. Fortunately, he understood. Unable to maintain his noble French demeanor any longer, he instinctively bowed and replied in English, “Respected sir, I am Francis de Bourbon, an officer of the French Kingdom stationed in New France.”

“Ah, a noble of the Bourbon family,” Haldor’s interest was piqued upon hearing Francis’s surname. After a moment’s thought, he stepped forward and extended his hand. “War is merciless, but in this uncivilized wilderness, we could have been friends, just like my brother Haig and Monsieur Champlain. We could have supported each other. What do you think, Monsieur Bourbon?”

Francis sighed in relief, his goodwill toward Haldor growing. He firmly grasped Haldor’s large hand, looking up at him with a smile. “Yes, before the war, I didn’t know I was fighting a friend of Champlain. Your Hrut City is well-known in New France, and we have a long-standing relationship with the Long Lake tribe, which led to this misunderstanding. I hope you can forgive us.”

“It’s nothing. We can consider this a misunderstanding that brought us together,” Haldor laughed, brushing the dust off Francis’s clothes.

“Sir, you—” Francis blushed, declining.

“I’m sorry,” Haldor turned and said, “Hrutik, we will rest in the city tonight. Arrange a table of food. I want to talk to Monsieur Bourbon and apologize to him.”

Before the war, Francis had not held Haldor and his men in high regard. But after his defeat and capture, his life was at their mercy. The respect and kindness he received from Haldor filled him with immense gratitude.

That evening at the banquet, Haldor and Francis sat side by side, accompanied by Haig, Hrutik, and Kadir.

“Your soldiers have been well taken care of. They have been provided with food and drink. Tomorrow, you can leave Vinland and return to New France,” Haldor said, as if suddenly remembering after the meal.

“Thank you for your generosity,” Francis smiled and nodded. He had changed into a clean and neat uniform, looking entirely different from earlier that afternoon.

During the meal, they engaged in friendly and warm conversation. Francis expressed understanding of Haldor’s conquest of the Long Lake tribe and the unification of Vinland. He also mentioned that upon returning to New France, he would seek Governor Champlain’s approval to establish an equal cooperative relationship between New France and Vinland.

Haldor knew his foundation was weak and could not completely sever ties with the French and British colonizers. However, by flexing his muscles appropriately, he could earn their respect and make them face the reality of his unified Vinland. This would help in gaining respect and importance in future interactions with New France and New England.

Originally, Haldor had planned to capture the French soldiers and have New France pay to ransom them. If they refused, he would enslave them.

But upon learning that Francis was a member of the Bourbon family and the highest-ranking officer in the New France army, second only to Governor Champlain, Haldor changed his approach. He decided to win Francis over and seek New France’s support, or at least their tacit recognition of his sovereignty over Vinland.

From Francis’s demeanor, Haldor could tell he had agreed. The next step would depend on Champlain’s attitude.

Haldor believed he did not want to offend his neighbors, New France and New England. Once they realized Vinland was not to be trifled with, they would likely maintain good relations with him.

Chapter 52: The Establishment of the Viking Raid System (Part 1)

Through their conversation during the meal, Haldor had learned from Francis that several outposts in New France had been raided and even occupied by armed English merchants this year. This indicated that the number of colonists in New England had multiplied in recent years, reaching over two thousand. They believed that with their far greater numbers compared to New France, they could seize more and better territory—a clear sign of ambition swelling.

The English were squeezing New France’s space, and Francis felt they even harbored ambitions of monopolizing North America.

This was not good news for Haldor, but after some thought, he believed that Champlain, who did not want to be annexed or driven out of the North American colonies, would likely accept the olive branch he extended. After all, the weak could only survive by uniting against the strong.

In 1628, there were only four colonial powers in North America. The first was New France, centered around Quebec, with a colonial population of about four to five hundred.

The second was New England, centered around the Massachusetts and Virginia colonies, with a population that grew every year, now exceeding two thousand.

The third was Hrut City, which had unified the large and small tribes on Vinland Island this autumn, becoming the sole leader. This was a colony led by Icelanders, completely independent and free from any governance. Their leader, Haldor, was not a colonist sent by the Danish kingdom. Vinland Island had a population of over ten thousand natives and eight hundred colonists.

The last was the Dutch colony of New Netherland, established less than four years ago in the south of New England. It was the youngest, with the fewest people and the smallest territory, making it the weakest colony.

After eliminating the chief of the Beothuk alliance, Haldor became the ruler of all of Vinland and the overlord of the Beothuk. As the ruler of Vinland, he pondered how to govern it, maintain his rule, and handle relations with his nearest neighbor, New France, the slightly more distant New England, and the farthest neighbor, New Netherland.

Francis de Bourbon’s equal dialogue with the French governor, attempting to establish a “Vinland-France Alliance,” was the first diplomatic move Haldor made after becoming the ruler of Vinland.

The next morning, Francis bid farewell to Haldor and led his French soldiers away from Vinland on small boats.

Haldor waited until Francis was far away before turning back to the city. Looking at the already assembled Viking militia and thousands of Beothuk slaves, he gave a grand wave of his hand and ordered the march.

Haldor and the other three chiefs rode on horseback, followed by nearly a thousand Viking soldiers pulling ox carts loaded with cannons, furs, and jade. Behind them were over three thousand captured warriors.

The Long Lake tribe had over two thousand people, and with the addition of two thousand recruited warriors, they now had nearly five thousand. Haldor considered the limited resources on the southeastern peninsula and was cautious about accepting more captives.

Hrut City now had over six thousand native slaves. Adding another six or seven thousand would bring the total to fourteen thousand.

While it was good for Hrut City to suddenly become a large city of fourteen thousand, winter was approaching, and it would be difficult to support such a large population. Even with the food plundered from various tribes and the Bakens tribe, as well as the food harvested in Hrut City this year and other stored provisions, it would still be tight to feed over ten thousand people through the winter.

To concentrate the able-bodied labor force and have the Long Lake tribe serve as a base for food collection before winter, even supporting Hrut City with some food, and to stabilize the western part of Vinland, Haldor appointed Blackstone as the governor of Bakens City before leaving. Blackstone was responsible for governing the one thousand warriors and two thousand women and children left in Bakens City, as well as the surrounding large and small tribes totaling one to two thousand people, and consolidating control over all the natives in the west.

Haldor gave Blackstone two tasks. The first was to promote the worship of the Heavenly God’s bloodline family of Haldor, turning all natives into faithful followers of Haldor. The second was to gather all natives around Long Lake and vigorously develop agriculture and animal husbandry to provide logistical support for Hrut City.

To ensure Blackstone’s authority, Haldor also left behind two hundred White Wolf Warriors and ten white slave guards equipped with firearms, ordering them to obey Blackstone’s commands.

Amid Blackstone’s tearful expressions of loyalty, Haldor led the army away from Long Lake, heading south along the great river.

Three days later, Haldor’s army reached the river bend in the middle and lower reaches and set up camp to await the arrival of the fleet.

Two days later, the fleet appeared. Haldor divided the Viking militia into five groups. One group, with over eight hundred warrior slaves, boarded the ships. Using eleven days, they made three round trips. Finally, before the winter’s severe cold set in, Haldor, as the last group, returned to Hrut City with one hundred white slave soldiers and over eight hundred warrior slaves.

Upon returning to Hrut City, all five large ships were repurposed as fishing vessels to continue fishing, whale hunting, and sealing to store food for the winter.

At the same time, all ten thousand native slaves in Hrut City were reorganized and integrated into the new system according to the Viking Raid model, becoming the lowest tier of personnel.

Haldor and the chiefs, including Haig, along with the seven Oarsmen, held a special meeting to discuss the management model of Hrut Village.

Olaf’s increasingly mature system, similar to the Eight Banners, known as the “Viking Raid,” was discussed and supplemented with some details before being unanimously approved for implementation.

A few days later, Haldor, as the lord of Hrut City and the general of the Viking Raid, issued orders to reward all personnel based on merit.

The first major reward was granting freedom to all white slave militia and their families. The earliest two batches of Beothuk and Inuit slaves also became free men. Then, all freed people of various tribes enjoyed the same status as the Icelanders, and all free men were collectively called Vikings.

Every Viking owned land, houses, and slaves as private property and was protected by all Vikings, making them members of the “Viking Raid” that ruled Vinland.

However, due to the current scarcity of resources in Vinland, development required centralized allocation. Therefore, the houses given to the Vikings were entirely their personal property. Although the slaves also belonged to them, they had to be unconditionally requisitioned when the Viking Raid needed them. However, food was provided by the Raid General, and compensation was given for any injuries or deaths.

As for the land, the Vikings currently only received a number. Every seven to nine people formed a household, and each household could receive half a virgate of arable land. However, the cultivation and harvest of the land had to be carried out under the unified arrangement and allocation of the Viking Raid, and the harvest would be distributed.

But Haldor also clearly told everyone that in a year or two, when Vinland’s food production stabilized and no one had to go hungry, the land would be entirely managed by individuals. In the future, the Raid General would only collect agricultural taxes in proportion.

The Vikings fully supported Haldor’s orders. Even the Icelanders did not raise any objections. This was because Haldor had been leading them to success since they arrived in Vinland, which invisibly enhanced Haldor’s prestige and leadership aura, making it difficult for people to question his decisions.

If Haldor were to fail once or twice in the future, his leadership aura and authority would gradually fade. However, with the assistance of Hrutik, Jot, Olaf, and others, it was unlikely that Haldor would encounter failure in his struggles against the natives.

Chapter 53: The Establishment of the Viking Raid System (Part 2)

The Viking Raid, as the name suggests, refers to the Viking expeditionary force.

This was a concept Olaf created by drawing inspiration from the later American nation’s fabricated Viking identity, or perhaps by emulating the Manchus. Strictly speaking, the term “Viking” originally referred to Germanic people from the Scandinavian Peninsula and Denmark hundreds of years ago, meaning pirates and maritime adventurers, not a distinct ethnic group.

Of course, the Manchus did not exist before either. The Manchu ethnicity was formed by merging various groups such as the Jurchens, Mongols, Koreans, and some Han Chinese. Genetically, the so-called pure Manchus were merely a branch of the Mongols.

Similarly, the Vikings were a unified identity Olaf created to consolidate the various ethnic groups in Vinland. Icelanders, Scots, English, Danes, Norwegians, Swedes, and even many French and Germans were Germanic peoples, while the Inuit and Indians were of Mongolian descent. The Irish were mostly Celts. At the very least, Vinland currently had three or four distinct ethnic groups, with different cultures, languages, and beliefs. Without the unifying concept of “Vikings,” it would be impossible to integrate them into a single entity.

After Olaf shared his idea with Haldor, the latter pondered for a moment before agreeing to the creation of the “Viking” identity.

Following this major restructuring, the eight hundred white people—comprising Icelanders, Scots, Irish, and English—all became equal free citizens. The original two hundred savage slaves and the later conquered savages who had assisted Haldor’s army in annihilating the Long Lake tribe also became free citizens. In total, there were four hundred families, numbering around a thousand people, with eighty percent being Beothuk and twenty percent Inuit.

By the winter of 1628, Hrut City had a population of twelve thousand. Among them, fewer than two thousand were free citizens with status. These people were divided by skin color into white and yellow, and by language into six groups: Icelandic, Scottish, Irish, English, Inuit, and Beothuk. However, that winter, the lord of Hrut City, the great leader Haldor, announced that all free citizens of Vinland would henceforth be known as Vikings—a unified ethnicity with equal status and rights.

After establishing the Viking identity among the people of Hrut City, nearly nine thousand Beothuk slaves and eight to nine hundred Inuit slaves were distributed by Haldor to all Vikings. The allocation was based on status and military merit. Even the most ordinary former white slave or savage family, upon becoming Vikings, received one male and two female savage slaves. The chiefs and leaders, of course, received even more.

Haldor, Hrutik, Haig, and Kadir each received a thousand slaves.

The Viking Raid system, after adjustments, established a hierarchical management structure. Currently, Vinland was governed under this system, which combined elements of tribal leadership, clans, and slavery.

Olaf was well aware that whether it was the Manchu Eight Banners or the Viking Raid, at their core, they were both slave systems.

This system was indeed backward and primitive, but for the small population of Icelanders, if they wanted to colonize North America with its millions of people, they had no choice but to adopt slavery. By emulating the proven successful Eight Banners system, they could use the Viking Raid to assimilate white slaves, Inuit, Beothuk, Huron, Cree, and other ethnic groups. Ultimately, they aimed to establish a pyramid-shaped nation with Icelanders at the core, white and native elites at the top, without confusing concepts, and unifying the diverse cultures under their rule.

As for how to govern after conquest, that was a matter for later. If they did not implement slavery and instead followed the British colonial model—establishing colonies, continuous immigration, expansion, and displacement of natives—Vinland would quickly perish.

Vinland lacked the foundation and support; it had no backing whatsoever.

The predecessor of the United States was sixteen colonies. The prosperity of these sixteen colonies was due to the backing of the United Kingdom, with a population of over ten million.

What did the leaders of Vinland have behind them? Nothing but their own two hands.

Thus, they had to learn from the successful figure in the Far East who also achieved greatness from small beginnings, emulating the Jurchen method of integrating Jurchens, Han Chinese, Koreans, Mongols, and others into the Manchu identity through a snowballing approach.

Icelanders, white slaves, Beothuk—Vikings.

There were many ways to rule colonies, but Olaf did not want colonization. He wanted to conquer his own land. Therefore, as leaders, the Icelanders had to intertwine with the natives, using systems, culture, religion, and beliefs to infiltrate and ultimately rule the North American continent, while establishing the foundation of their rule.

As for whether the Viking Raid system was suitable, Olaf was unsure. He simply felt that they could not develop colonies like Haig, the British, or the French—it was too slow and inefficient.

If the Viking Raid system proved unsuitable, problems would arise, and adjustments could be made accordingly.

After all, the so-called Viking Raid was merely a product of Olaf’s synthesis of the ancient Viking raiding and colonial system with the Eight Banners and slave systems. Problems were inevitable.

A great man once said, “Crossing the river by feeling the stones.” Olaf felt he was that person crossing the river.

The Viking Raid, meaning “Viking Expeditionary Force,” was divided into five Pasde. Each Pasde consisted of five Mannafylki.

Each Mannafylki governed five Aettangr, and each Aettangr managed two production teams. A production team was composed of four squads.

With each squad having about ten people, a production team had around fifty people, an Aettangr about a hundred, a Mannafylki five hundred, a Pasde two thousand five hundred, and a Raid twelve thousand five hundred.

Currently, Hrut City had only eighteen hundred Vikings, not even enough to form one Pasde. However, Haldor, Haig, Ulf, Olaf, and others were confident that with the increasing number of white slaves from Europe and the growing number of savage slaves, the Viking population would continue to rise. Soon, not only would they fill one Pasde, but even a full Raid would be achievable.

The Viking Raid was the sole political system in Vinland for managing population, production, military, and all other affairs. Currently, Raid General Haldor was the primary leader, with Haig as the Pasde District Chief. Hrutik, Jot, Kadir, and Hoskuld were the four Mannafylki Chieftains. Hrutik’s Mannafylki had the fewest people, only three hundred and fifty, but they were mostly single, robust men, the elite selected from white slaves and Beothuk.

Below the Mannafylki were the Aettangr.

Ulf and Olaf were still Aettangr Oarsmen, but the number of Aettangr had increased to nineteen. Due to their special status, Ulf and Olaf each led two Aettangr.

Among the remaining fifteen Aettangr, Heiner also led two. Hoskuld, having taken on the higher position of Mannafylki Chieftain, handed over his Aettangr to Kalm, making Kalm responsible for two Aettangr as well.

The rest were managed by Kalhu and Ilugi, each overseeing one Aettangr. Newly promoted leaders included Pikku, Olos, Brun, Polly, Valitu, Lunde, Solrak, Nilahu, and Hilt.

The true mid-level leaders holding real power in Hrut City were these fifteen Oarsmen who controlled the nineteen Aettangr. They were all Haldor’s closest friends, juniors, and two loyal savages. One of them was Pikku, an Inuit, who was perfectly suited to lead the Inuit Aettangr.

As for Olos, he was given leadership over a hundred Beothuk free citizens. The rest of the Beothuk free citizens were divided among the various Aettangr.

Note: The Viking Raid system is similar to the Eight Banners, combining production, life, and political-military management. Its structure is as follows: four production squads equal one large squad of 50 people, two production squads form one Aettangr, five Aettangr make one Mannafylki of 500 people, five Mannafylki form one Pasde of 2,500 people, and five Pasde form one Raid of 12,500 people.

Chapter 54: Bountiful Potato Harvest, Impressive Yields

The establishment of the Viking Raid granted Haldor and his followers legitimate authority and unparalleled status. It also made the Viking people, composed of various interest groups, deeply grateful and loyal to their leader, Haldor.

Apart from the Icelanders, a small number of English white slaves, more Scottish white slaves, and the majority of Irish white slaves—whether in their homeland or in Vinland—were the lowest in society, with no status, no dignity, and living hand-to-mouth. Often, even having enough to eat was a luxury.

But now, because their men had followed Lord Haldor in conquering the savages and establishing great merits, they had become freemen with status, wealth, and slaves. They all understood that everything they had gained was built upon Haldor’s Viking Raid and the kindness of their benevolent lord, Haldor.

The Beothuk and Inuit freemen were even more grateful and worshipful of Haldor, their gratitude beyond words.

These freemen had become Vikings. If they had the ability and achieved merits, they too could become production team leaders or even Aettangr Oarsmen. They did not want to lose what they had gained, so they did everything in their power to uphold Haldor’s rule and the correctness and greatness of the Viking Raid system.

After a winter rain, Vinland grew even colder. However, when the Viking militia went on their expedition, the rye, barley, oats, and vegetables had already been harvested, so there was no need to worry about food shortages.

After accounting, Jot discovered that this year’s grain harvest, along with the stored fish and meat, was enough to last until next spring, though they would have to live frugally.

But Jot also noticed that after each Aettangr submitted half of their harvest to the city granary, the remaining grain was carefully rationed among the families, and with some savings, they could make it through the winter.

However, Olaf’s Aettangr was different from the others.

They had submitted a considerable amount of grain and vegetables, which was the required share when the seven Aettangrs were established. The rest was only enough to feed over a hundred people for a little more than two months, less than the other Aettangrs.

But Jot noticed that the people of Olaf’s Aettangr were all smiling. Upon closer inspection, he found that they had received many potatoes and sweet potatoes. During the summer, Olaf had been heavily promoting the cultivation of potatoes and sweet potatoes. At the time, Jot and others knew about it but did not know the yield of these two crops, so they dismissed it as child’s play.

But in just over three months, the nearly five acres of land Olaf had cultivated along both sides of the Muskox River for sweet potatoes and potatoes had yielded a bountiful harvest. These harvests did not need to be submitted, so Olaf distributed one-third to the eighty or ninety elders and earliest followers of the Aettangr, and then one-tenth of the remaining harvest to the more than a hundred new members.

After the distribution, the fewer members of Olaf’s two Aettangrs each received dozens of pounds of potatoes and sweet potatoes, while the elders received over two hundred pounds. This food was enough to sustain these families through the winter, leaving them very satisfied. After thanking Olaf, they took their shares home.

When Jot asked Olaf about it, he learned that the five acres of land had yielded over forty thousand pounds of potatoes and thirty thousand pounds of sweet potatoes. Although they had high water content, when sliced and dried, they should yield over twenty thousand pounds. This was enough to feed forty or fifty people for a year.

Currently, Hrut City had only a little over five thousand acres of cultivated land, but the grain could barely support two thousand people. Yet, Olaf’s five acres of potatoes and sweet potatoes could feed forty people.

Jot was stunned after a simple calculation. His scalp tingled, and his heart raced. He thought: If all this land is planted with potatoes and sweet potatoes, we won’t have to worry about famine in Vinland.

Five thousand acres could support forty to fifty thousand people. With the addition of fish, meat, and vegetables, if managed properly, increasing the population by tens of thousands next year would be feasible. Moreover, the land and climate in southern Vinland were good. What was there to fear about not having enough food if they cultivated a few more thousand or even ten thousand acres?

Understanding how to solve the food problem, Jot happily went to find Haldor. Haldor had already heard about his son’s experimental field yielding a great harvest, so he ordered that the remaining thirty-seven thousand pounds of potatoes and sweet potatoes be confiscated for public use. Seven thousand pounds were then distributed to over a thousand Vikings for consumption, and the rest were stored in a large cellar, preparing for large-scale cultivation in Vinland next spring to thoroughly improve the food problem plaguing the Vikings.

Potatoes and sweet potatoes were rich in starch, making them one of the best foods in the world at the time. They tasted great and provided energy, leaving the Vikings very satisfied after eating them. Upon learning of this year’s harvest, they were all surprised and had great confidence in next year’s harvest.

However, this year’s bountiful harvest of potatoes and sweet potatoes by Olaf was not only due to their high yield but also because the soil on both sides of the river was nutrient-rich. Additionally, Olaf had fermented the manure from the Aettangr-level slaves and applied it twice after planting the potatoes and sweet potatoes.

The mysterious technique of making farmyard manure from the Far East was met with skepticism and incomprehension by most people. However, the bountiful harvest of potatoes and sweet potatoes this time prompted Jot to inquire in detail about the production and benefits of farmyard manure. He was determined to use farmyard manure to fertilize the land during the spring planting next year.

Olaf’s experimental cultivation of sweet potatoes and potatoes was aimed at solving the food problem that had plagued the East and West for thousands of years.

If his father were to cultivate potatoes and sweet potatoes on a large scale in Vinland, it would not only ensure food supply but also free up a large amount of labor. This would allow them to undergo military training and develop industries such as handicrafts, processing, and mining. With Vinland’s small population, they could rapidly develop industries, build infrastructure, and establish a strong foundation for the nation, placing them at the forefront of North America.

Haldor greatly approved of Olaf’s ideas. He felt that with Olaf’s assistance, his ambition of establishing a nation in Vinland or even on the North American continent was not just a fantasy.

While the over ten thousand people in Hrut City were discussing the enormous yield of potatoes and sweet potatoes, the Arctic cold current swept across North America.

After entering November, winter rains still fell occasionally. Although the weather was cold, Haldor and his men were unwilling to stay in the castle. Every day, they led a full thousand-strong Viking militia for training and hunting.

Due to the previous promotion of militiamen, auxiliary troops, and even warriors to freemen, this force had been reorganized.

All the white people and some of the former savage auxiliary troops were promoted to musketeers, totaling three hundred men. All the firearms in Haldor’s fortress were put into use.

The remaining seven hundred Beothuk and Inuit Vikings became long spearmen. Additionally, fifty savage warrior slaves were selected as scouts, and thirty white people as artillerymen to support the main force.

There were also the earliest sixty Icelanders who were relieved from the musketeer ranks. Thirty of them became leaders of various squads, and the other thirty became Haldor’s personal knightly guards. Although the entire Hrut City only had a little over forty horses, with fewer than twenty of good breed, in just two more years, they could breed enough mounts for over thirty knights.

While developing themselves, Haldor and the other leaders also planned to continue trading Vinland’s specialties—furs, royal jelly, and wine—to Europe next spring in exchange for wealth. They intended to purchase large quantities of military equipment, white slaves, and livestock. With the vast number of savage slaves in Vinland, endless resources like furs, grapes, maple sugar, cod, and whales to plunder, and vast lands to cultivate, everyone believed that in just five or six years, Vinland could be developed into a capital no worse than Iceland.

Half a month after Haldor’s triumphant return to the city after unifying Vinland, another early winter rain turned into snow and hail after two hours, slowly covering Vinland’s mountains and plains with a white veil.

This cold front was very strong. It wasn’t until the afternoon of the third day that the rain and snow stopped. The temperature in Hrut City then dropped significantly. Although the ice and snow on the ground slowly melted under the sun, Olaf could feel that the air temperature was close to freezing. He exhaled a breath of white air, closed the wooden window of his room, and sighed, “This year’s harsh winter has truly arrived. It might be even colder than last year.”

Chapter 55: Champlain’s Reaction

On November 25th, a relentless snowstorm had blanketed North America for two days, forcing the Huron, Abenaki, and Cree tribes living near the mouth of the Saint Lawrence River to take shelter in their wooden lodges. Champlain, who had hoped to rely on his Huron allies for food, found his plans thwarted by the blizzard. In such weather, sending men to seek out the natives was impossible, and the natives themselves would not venture out to deliver supplies—not only because of the harsh conditions but also because food had become even more precious after the storm.

Within Quebec City stood a stone-walled, timber-roofed mansion in the French style, its chimney puffing black smoke—a sign that a fire burned inside to ward off the cold. This was the residence of Samuel de Champlain, Governor of New France, and the very heart of French authority in the colony.

Inside, Champlain sat by the fireplace in a woolen sweater, his neatly trimmed beard framing a thoughtful expression as he read a letter. After a moment, he coughed lightly and said, “Elise, add another log. It’s still chilly.”

Elise, his lover of several years—a woman in her thirties with an elegant bearing—chuckled softly and obliged, tossing more wood into the hearth.

“You’re not as strong as you used to be, Governor,” she remarked.

Champlain coughed again, reflecting on his waning vigor. “I’m nearly fifty, and I’ve spent years exploring the North American wilderness. The fact that I’m still alive is a blessing from God. You should have seen me in my prime—I was far stronger then.”

Elise laughed gently. “Yes, my strong Governor.”

Shrugging, Champlain reread the letter before tightening his coat around himself, as if seeking warmth in the fabric.

He pondered Francis’s urgent request and the grim news from the Gaspe Peninsula—where the sudden drop in temperature had led to mass sickness among the natives. If the natives at the supply outpost perished, next year’s hunting and fishing yields would plummet. Francis and his French soldiers were no match for the wilderness; they couldn’t even hunt a fox.

French soldiers lacked the versatility of the Icelanders, who were skilled in hunting, fishing, and navigation—each mastering at least two trades, a legacy passed down through generations. France, an agricultural nation, had farmers who knew only farming, mercenaries who knew only war, and few coastal fishermen. Though the kingdom boasted ten million people, only a handful of Basque regions thrived on fishing.

Champlain knew all too well that without native allies, the French could not survive in North America.

He set the letter aside, furrowing his brow in deep thought.

Sensing his unease, Elise sat beside him, wrapping an arm around him. “Darling, what did Francis say this time?”

Champlain scoffed. “What else? He’s still urging me to ally with the Icelanders of Vinland. After his defeat last month, Haldor let him go, and the first thing he did was beg me to form an alliance. I think the Icelanders have brainwashed him.”

“Oh?” Elise nodded. “But didn’t you say before that with England pressing in, allying with Vinland might be a good idea? What changed?”

Champlain’s voice turned cold. “The Icelanders of Vinland are no saints. They enslave the Beothuk, dominate the island, and clearly have grand ambitions. England wants to drive me out, but even if I retreat, they lack the foundation to rule here. The Icelanders, however, are different—they enslave the natives to govern, far more brutal than the English. If I ally with them, they might use my strength to land in New France and then swallow up the natives, seizing territory. The English are wolves, but the Icelanders are leopards.”

After careful consideration, Champlain feared the Icelanders’ ambitions. To avoid inviting trouble, he had ignored Francis’s repeated pleas for an alliance.

“If you don’t want to ally with the Icelanders, why not seek support from France? Cardinal Richelieu appointed you governor—he won’t ignore New France’s plight.”

Champlain, who had never married, had been with Elise for four or five years. She moved in high circles and had developed a keen political sense, offering her advice.

Champlain waved a hand, frowning. “Cardinal Richelieu is powerless to help me now.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Three years ago, Richelieu pushed for the ‘Anti-Habsburg Alliance’ between England, France, Holland, and Denmark. The three nations funded Denmark’s war effort, and at first, Denmark fared well. But last year, King Christian IV began losing ground, and the English commander, Mansfield, was crushed. Now, Denmark has been driven back to northern Jutland, and the Habsburg forces are unstoppable. Richelieu is scrambling to find new allies while guarding against Spanish invasion—they’re tied to the Habsburgs, after all.”

Champlain sighed again, pacing before continuing. “I’ve ordered Francis to secure supplies for Quebec from the Gaspe Peninsula. With over a hundred musketeers and Huron warriors under his command, he should manage. This winter will be tougher than usual, but we’ll endure. Come spring, I’ll negotiate with the English—so long as their terms aren’t too harsh, we can reach an agreement.”

He wasn’t sure if his decision was right, but after learning that Francis’s combined force of 180 French soldiers, 500 Huron warriors, and 3,000 Beothuk warriors had been defeated by the Icelanders—who possessed cannons, firearms, and plate armor—Champlain harbored deep apprehension toward the Icelanders.

He believed they were not mere fur traders but had territorial ambitions. He regretted not recognizing their hidden strength sooner, especially since he had once maintained a superficial friendship with their former leader, Haig.

Fearful that an alliance with Vinland would give them a foothold on the continent to rival England, Champlain refused Francis’s proposal, even at the risk of starvation in the outposts. He could sense his trusted lieutenant’s growing frustration in his letters.

Reaching into the fire, he felt its warmth and a faint sting. Coughing softly, he muttered to himself, “Wait a little longer, Francis. You’re still too young, too naive. You don’t understand that the courteous Icelandic leader harbors ambitions to dominate North America. Unless we’re truly desperate, we must never ally with them. If we do, they’ll have the excuse and the means to interfere on the mainland. North America could descend into chaos worse than Europe’s wars. That serves neither New France’s interests nor my rule.”

Chapter 56: The Reaction of the English Colonists

New England was the colony established by Britain on the eastern coast of North America. In 1606, the London Virginia Company was founded, and they began colonizing the southern part of the eastern coast in Virginia. However, this earliest colony had always developed sluggishly, even facing the risk of extinction multiple times.

Later, in 1620, after the arrival of the “Mayflower” in North America, the Puritans and the Plymouth Company jointly established the Plymouth Colony in the north, truly bringing the land named New England in 1614 under British rule. This marked the beginning of the rise of Britain’s colonial endeavors in North America.

From 1620 to 1628, almost every year, the Plymouth Company and its partner, the Creek Company, among others, deceived large numbers of white slaves from England, Scotland, and Ireland to come to New England to build the colony. Due to the harsh environment, the ferocity of the natives, and the colonial companies’ inhuman treatment and relentless exploitation of the white slaves, New England had continuously received nearly six thousand immigrants over the years, but by the winter of 1628, only a little over two thousand remained alive.

After several years of development, the Plymouth Colony had built churches, a council hall, and hundreds of houses. Outside the colony were low walls and fences, and beyond that lay vast expanses of cultivated land.

Since New England was controlled by the Puritans, they did not accept the idea of a governor sent by the English company. Instead, they spontaneously formed a council to manage the colony, overseen by Pastor Blaister, the leader of the Puritans. Of course, the Plymouth Company had also sent a governor, William Bradford, to manage trade.

Blaister had fled to the New World because his religious beliefs were not valued or promoted. The Puritans were also part of the Protestant movement, but they opposed King James I’s advocacy of “divine right of kings” and the political stance that “the king is the noblest after God.” They opposed the king’s ambition and usurpation of church lands. It could be said that the Puritans had reached a point of opposition to King James I.

However, the king’s attitude and tactics were very strong, which made the traditional nobles, Catholics, and Puritans in Ireland, Scotland, and even England very resentful. This laid the groundwork for the beheading of King James I’s son, Charles I, decades later.

Blaister was a Puritan pastor who led the Puritans in managing the Plymouth immigrants, attempting to preach to the native savages. But initially, their arrogant preaching attitude caused them much suffering. It was only in recent years, with the large influx of white slaves from Britain, that they gained strong power, rapidly expanding the colony and beginning to enslave the natives.

With the growth of New England’s power, Blaister and other Puritan leaders set their sights on their northern neighbor, New France.

Europe was currently embroiled in the all-consuming Thirty Years’ War. The Puritans didn’t care that France was also on the side of the Protestant Union. They had no goodwill towards Catholic France because the American natives were non-believers, and the French, by occupying North America, had control over the faith of the natives in New France.

Blaister and other Puritans wanted to become saints like Saint Paul. Although they were Protestant believers, it didn’t stop them from working to bring Christianity to the New World. They also wanted the natives of the New World to believe in the Puritan version of Protestantism, making them the founding fathers.

Blaister began to strongly target New France this year, but in the early winter, he was shocked by a piece of news: the Icelanders had unified Vinland, subdued all the natives on the island, and even more astonishingly, the Icelandic army had defeated the soldiers of New France.

Blaister had never taken the Icelanders of Vinland seriously. First, the Icelanders had also converted to the Lutheran Church, a branch of Protestantism, making them somewhat related to New England, though not the same sect. Compared to New France, they were closer. Moreover, the Icelanders had always behaved well, honest and straightforward, which made New England treat Vinland like a little brother.

But now, the little brother had suddenly become the big brother, a burly man who had pinned France to the ground and beaten them up. Blaister found it hard to accept for a while, so he asked the crew of the Creek Company to quickly gather information about the Icelanders of Vinland. After ten days, after reading a large stack of materials, he rubbed his sore eyes and gathered over forty council members, then convened a special meeting on Vinland and New France.

At the meeting, Blaister first reported on the situation of the Vinland war, then explained the military strength of Hrut City in Vinland, which had a thousand soldiers, thousands of native warriors, firearms, plate armor, cannons, and armed warships. Finally, he looked around and saw that everyone was very surprised. He shook his head and said, “Friends, we have all overlooked the Icelanders on Vinland. We never thought that they came to North America in the same year as us, but right before our eyes, they have quickly grown into a powerful force. It is conceivable that the leaders of the Icelanders, Haig and his successor Haldor, are natural-born leaders.”

“Ah, yes, we came to the northern continent at the same time, but over the years, we have lost more than half of our white slaves, yet we have only gained less than half the land of the Icelanders,” a young pastor said with emotion.

“Hmph, back then, to help them, we ordered English fishermen not to go ashore and harass Vinland. They have developed so well but have not repaid us. It’s despicable. Why not have Governor William use armed merchant ships to threaten the Icelanders a bit,” a middle-aged man with a hooked nose said coldly.

The young pastor sneered repeatedly and said, “Mr. Miller, back then, we didn’t let the English fishermen land on Vinland because we wanted to use the Icelanders of Vinland to restrain New France and at the same time bring all the English fishermen to us to provide us with some fish. Honesty is the most basic virtue of a person. We are all believers of the Lord, not despicable politicians, so please, Mr. Miller, do not deceive yourself. Moreover, Governor William has always wanted to extend his power to the colony, replacing our council to rule the immigrants. Do you want to invite the wolf into the house?”

“Hmph, of course, I don’t want our council to lose power, but, Pastor McG, do you think you are very noble?” Miller glared and retorted.

Miller was a member of the council and also a Puritan, but he was very cruel to the white slaves, which many kind-hearted council members could not stand. The only one who dared to speak out against him was the young pastor McG.

Seeing that the two were about to argue again, Blaister frowned and waved his hand, saying, “Stop it, don’t engage in meaningless arguments, friends. We are now discussing what attitude to take towards Hrut City in Vinland and New France in the future. Should we join hands with Hrut City to completely drive the French away, or continue to maintain our cold friendship with the Icelanders?”

The dozens of council members immediately started discussing, and after half a day, the opinions gradually became clear. Two voices emerged in the meeting hall.

One was the hardline faction led by Miller, and the other was the moderate faction led by Pastor McG.

The hardliners believed that Hrut City did not have the support of the Danish kingdom and had just offended France. New England could temporarily ease the pressure on New France, lure New France and Vinland into a struggle to consume each other’s strength, and when Vinland was weakened to a certain extent, New England could step in to mediate, or annex both, or support the Icelanders. This way, New England would have the dominant position and initiative.

Miller’s opinion had a considerable market. More than half of the over forty council members agreed with Miller’s opinion, which made him very proud, even smirking provocatively at McG.

The opinion of McG’s faction was to base everything on the Puritan beliefs. In North America, full of natives, they must unite with the hard-won like-minded people. The Icelanders believed in the Lutheran Church, which was essentially not much different from the Puritans. If the two joined forces to spread the gospel to the natives, perhaps everyone could see Protestantism blossom in the wilderness in their lifetime, ultimately achieving their religious and political aspirations.

If they watched New France and Vinland fight, perhaps after the pan-European war ended, New France would turn its attention to Vinland. In a few years, if Vinland was annexed and destroyed by New France, New England’s interests would also be difficult to guarantee, and the confrontation between Catholicism and Christianity in the New World would continue.

Just as the two sides were locked in dispute, Blaister seemed to have a preference. He clapped his hands to stop everyone’s argument and then said, “I think we should still maintain our original plans and beliefs. If we drive New France out of the New World and take over Quebec and other strongholds, we will not only control the source of furs and amass great wealth, but we can also use Quebec as a bridgehead to penetrate deep into the interior to spread the gospel and search for the distant Seres in the East.”

“I think Pastor McG is right. We must adhere to our beliefs. The Catholic French cannot be trusted. We should deepen our relationship with the Icelanders and jointly drive out New France, then divide their colonies.”

After speaking, Blaister saw that Miller was about to persuade him, so he added, “I know your concerns, Miller. You are worried that the Icelanders will pose a threat to us after New France is gone. But you must know that in the current European war, Denmark is about to face defeat. The Icelanders cannot seek Danish support, but we can seek support from England through the London Company. In the long run, uniting with a wild dog to strangle a young lion is very worthwhile, but we are also a young lion. Do you think the wild dog of New France will still be a threat when the lion grows up? But if we allow the young northern lion to grow, we will regret it later. And you must know that even if we join forces to drive out the French, New France will surely return in the future. At that time, Vinland at the mouth of the Saint Lawrence River will be our shield.”

After Blaister’s explanation, Miller and the others suddenly understood and praised the old pastor’s foresight.

Blaister waved his hand, knowing that it was about to get completely cold, so many things could only be started next spring.

After thinking for a moment, he immediately ordered McG to send someone to contact the Icelanders of Hrut City, striving to find an opportunity to meet with Vinland’s leader, Haldor, after the spring.

When the council members dispersed, Blaister called McG, who was about to leave, and pulled him to sit in a corner, asking, “McG, do you understand my meaning?”

McG looked admiringly and said, “Teacher, you are indeed far-sighted. I—”

“You don’t need to say anything.” Blaister interrupted McG, coughing lightly, “I am already fifty-five years old this year, and my energy and physical strength are getting worse. If we cannot seize this opportunity to drive out New France and occupy Quebec, perhaps I will not be able to penetrate deep into the interior of the New World to preach before I die. You must remember, we are the lambs of the Lord, the faithful dogs that shepherd for the Lord. We are not ugly colonists who only seek money. We also want to establish church traditions on this vast land and become prophets.”

“Yes, I understand,” McG said solemnly as he stood up, “To drive out New France as soon as possible, I will go to Vinland myself.”

Miller took a few confidants back to his home, first drank a glass of wine, and then discussed the recent events. After hearing a council member praise Blaister’s political insight, he coldly snorted and said, “Pastors are a bunch of idealists. They only consider preaching but do not know that if the Icelanders develop ambitions for the mainland land, we will only become their vassals or even be driven away.”

“Isn’t that so? Blaister said that the French will not be willing, and we can seek support from England,” a council member asked in confusion.

“Hmph,” Miller sighed and sneered, “The involvement of French and British forces is based on the victory of the Protestant Union in the pan-European war. What if they don’t win? What if it drags on for another ten or twenty years?”

“You mean—”

“If the Icelanders drive us out and annex us when England and France are deeply mired in the pan-European war and cannot assist us, do you think we have the power to fight back? What’s scary is that the Icelanders, who already have a strong army, will not be easily satisfied.”

“We can ask the London Company to increase the immigration effort. As long as our population in New England keeps increasing, we will soon surpass Iceland.”

“Yes, asking London to increase immigration—I have already applied for this, and Blaister also agrees and has approved it. Moreover, Governor William has already started. But I think it’s time to talk to Governor William again.”

Note: Seres: An ancient name for China. Before the exploration of the North American continent was completed in the seventeenth century, Europeans generally believed that India, China, and the North American continent were connected, thinking that a route to China could be found from North America.

Chapter 57: The Heavenly God and the Loyal Hound

Winter in Vinland was exceptionally cold, but for the people of Iceland, it was nothing out of the ordinary. The ones who truly struggled with the cold were the poorest of the Beothuk slaves. However, this year, Haldor had allowed them to gather firewood for themselves before December, a kindness that had the slaves cheering in gratitude.

This was because the second phase of construction in Hrut City had just been completed by the end of November.

Initially, progress in Hrut City had been slow, but with the influx of white slaves this year—who were far more skilled in construction than the native slaves—and many of them capable of crafting tools, the pace of work had accelerated dramatically. By the new year, the framework of Hrut City had been established.

Thousands of slaves and Vikings worked day and night, quarrying stone, felling timber, and constructing houses and walls. Now, Hrut City had expanded to an area comparable to Reykjavik’s harbor in Iceland. Though still crude, the framework was solid, with houses standing in rows and drainage ditches and gravel roads neatly arranged.

Besides Haldor’s central fortress, the city now had a newly built military stronghold on the east side for military arrangements and arms storage, and a two-story Nordic-style building on the west side serving as the governing council for managing the lives and production of Vinland’s slaves and freemen.

With the addition of many skilled white slave artisans this year, Hrut City had produced small, medium, and even large tools to aid in the city’s construction. Haldor believed that next year, the third phase of construction could be completed, transforming the colony into a true city.

Under the guidance of the white slave artisans, the native slaves had achieved productivity far beyond what they had before. Hrut City’s construction efficiency had improved more than threefold, and in just one year, progress had surpassed four times that of the previous year.

Hrut City was now large enough to house twenty to thirty thousand people, divided into inner and outer sections, with even the outer walls completed.

Pleased, Haldor ordered all the Aettangr and slaves to rest until spring before resuming work. He also temporarily granted the native slaves the same logging rights as the Vikings and allocated a plot of land in the northern Avalon wetlands for them to gather firewood for the winter.

Originally, Haldor had planned to build some stone roads around Hrut City, but with so much work to be done and labor in short supply, road construction was not a priority. For now, only the inner city streets had been paved with leftover stone from the building projects.

In a forest northwest of Avalon, several dozen slaves were felling trees. These were servants of Viking lords who did not dare compete with the slaves of the city lord, the commander, or the Oarsmen for the safer and more abundant forests to the east and south. They knew their Viking masters were only freemen, and as slaves, their own status was even lower. Thus, they had banded together to work in the more remote northwestern forest.

The quiet forest echoed with the dull thuds of axes striking wood. The Beothuk slaves had grown accustomed to silence and obedience, especially after seeing members of their own tribe rewarded with Viking status for their bravery and diligence. This had only spurred them to work harder.

Time passed slowly, and soon the sun began to set. Many Beothuk slaves had already bundled their firewood—each load weighing over a hundred pounds—with ropes made of tree bark and were heading south toward Hrut City.

Only two natives remained in the forest. Both were around sixteen or seventeen years old, each with a bundle of firewood already tied, yet they continued chopping, determined to gather one more small bundle.

These two were young warriors Haig had captured in the south. Too young to be warriors themselves, they had survived. Now, they shared the same goal: to gather more firewood and win the favor of a girl or a widow. After all, they were nearly grown, and it was time to think about starting a family.

“Balu, hurry up. I’ve already cut enough. I think if we give Aydia and Moniko twenty bundles, they’ll marry us,” the taller boy said, adjusting the small piece of deer hide he had placed on his shoulder before hoisting two bundles of firewood onto his back. His deer hide coat was already shedding, but he handled it with care.

The shorter boy quickly tied his own bundles and, with a grunt, lifted two onto his back. Bending under the weight, he panted, “Kikapu, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

The two scrawny figures struggled under the nearly two hundred pounds of firewood, stopping every so often to rest against a tree before continuing, chatting idly to ease their fatigue and shoulder pain.

“Balu, after you marry Aydia, what else do you plan to do?”

“I want to have two children first, then join the warrior band to fight for the Heavenly God. Maybe one day, I can make Aydia and our children into noble Vikings like the lords.”

The shorter Balu’s face lit up with hope as he turned to Kikapu. “What about you?”

“I want to become a warrior of the Heavenly God too. Maybe then I can become a Viking.”

“Then let’s work hard together. I heard that before, the Inuit and other tribes who followed the Heavenly God had to crowd into caves in winter, and many froze to death. We’re much better off now. The Heavenly God has given us land and houses, allowed us to gather firewood, and even provided us with dried fish for meat. I think this winter will be better than any we had in the tribe.”

“Yeah, the mighty Heavenly God is both powerful and kind.”

After praising Haldor, they continued on their way.

This year, with the population of Hrut City increasing, the white wolves on the peninsula had been systematically hunted, with over three hundred killed. The fierce beasts were nearly wiped out, and the slaves no longer faced attacks.

The two friends only reached Hrut City after nightfall. Since Haldor had relaxed restrictions on the native slaves over a month ago, none had attempted to escape. When Balu and Kikapu returned, they were only questioned briefly by two White Wolf Warriors—former slaves who had earned their Viking status—before being allowed to pass.

Their homes stood side by side, and as they prepared to part ways, they noticed the bright windows of the towering fortress in the center of the inner city. They knew Haldor and the other lords were feasting inside.

After a moment of envy, Kikapu suddenly leaned in and whispered, “Balu, do you think Haldor is really a god descended from heaven? If he weren’t, I might be even more loyal to him.”

Balu’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly pulled Kikapu down, hissing, “Are you crazy? How dare you question the Heavenly God?”

Kikapu had spoken impulsively out of admiration for Haldor’s life, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Seeing Balu’s reaction, however, a surge of defiance rose in him. “I think Haldor only has the blood of the gods, not that he’s a true god. Otherwise, why can’t he really summon the wind and rain? I’ve heard that the white Vikings control heavenly fire with weapons called firearms—not divine power.”

“You’re talking nonsense!” Balu scowled, pinning Kikapu down. “If he weren’t a god, how could he be so tall and mighty? And how did he lead Haig and the great commanders Hrutik and Kadir to defeat the warriors of Bakens Lake just by charging on horseback? If that’s not divine power, what is?”

“It is, it is!” Kikapu’s stomach twisted with regret. He slapped his own mouth hard. “I was just talking nonsense.”

With that, Kikapu fled, his mind racing with excuses: I didn’t mean to blaspheme. I only meant that even if Haldor isn’t a god, I’ll still be his loyal hound. He’s smarter, kinder, and greater than any chief. Only by following him can we become noble Vikings.

Chapter 58: The Messenger

As December arrived, the weather grew increasingly cold, with overcast skies hinting at another impending snowstorm.

Recently, the entire family, now with more free time, spent their days in the castle playing a card game invented by Olaf called “Fighting the Trolls.” It was essentially a variation of poker, but with a name that suited Olaf’s tastes.

This novel and entertaining card game was not only enjoyed by Haldor, Katrin, Ulf, Half, and Gerny, but even Haig, Hrutik, Heiner, and others became hooked after trying it.

Every morning after breakfast, the great hall on the first floor of the castle would be filled with people. Many chiefs and oarsmen, along with their families, gathered to play cards and drink, making the already warm castle, heated by bonfires, even cozier. It could be said that since winter began, the lights in Haldor Castle burned brightly until midnight every night.

Apart from playing cards with his mother, brother, and others, Olaf spent his days drafting plans for the following spring. He believed that now that Vinland was unified and the population was concentrated in Hrut City, they could ensure food supplies by planting potatoes and sweet potatoes next year. Then, they could use slaves to develop mining and even shipbuilding industries. Of course, this depended on whether they could purchase skilled workers, equipment, and technicians from Europe next year.

Olaf remembered seeing a map of North American mineral deposits in the national library in his past life. Though he had forgotten the distribution of most minerals, he still recalled some coal and iron deposits. He knew that in the southern part of Vinland Island, in the peninsula that would later become Nova Scotia, there were coal and iron mines, with substantial coal reserves. Vinland Island also had iron, lead-zinc, and even copper mines, though the reserves of these, except for lead-zinc, were not significant.

Thus, Olaf planned to bring people from Europe to Vinland next year—not just white slaves, but also shipbuilders and mining experts for exploration and extraction. With iron and coal mines, they could smelt iron and even produce weapons and equipment. For Vinland to truly stand firm, it needed to develop both its population and heavy industry. Without these, the island would eventually be seized by the English, let alone expanding westward.

Besides developing mining, steel, and shipbuilding industries, Olaf also thought about the business deal he had agreed upon with Kuiyi last year.

He had asked Kuiyi, who was working in the Dutch East India Company’s colony in Batavia, to purchase some porcelain and traditional Chinese medicine, and most importantly, the books by Li Shizhen, Xu Guangqi, and Song Yingxing. These were the fundamental classics Olaf intended to use for developing light industry, heavy industry, and agriculture—his guiding principles.

Olaf knew his own limitations. To develop Vinland as a nation, he couldn’t do without the wisdom accumulated by the laboring people of the Celestial Empire over thousands of years.

Olaf wrote down his plans for next year with charcoal on paper, fearing he might forget. He also prepared to have two Aettangr Vikings and slaves start producing maple syrup as soon as spring arrived. After all, they had no industries yet, and the only way to get rich was through the unique sugar industry of North America.

Originally, Olaf had also wanted to find a suitable area on the southern coast of Hrut City to open salt fields for salt production, solving Vinland’s salt supply problem while adding another commodity.

However, Vinland’s climate was not cooperative. Perhaps due to the Little Ice Age, summers in Vinland were not very hot, making salt production inefficient. Moreover, establishing salt fields was troublesome. When Olaf mentioned it to Haldor, he showed no interest, and the salt production plan was indefinitely postponed.

Though Haldor wasn’t interested in the salt industry, he was eager for other ventures.

Haldor, Hrutik, Haig, Jot, and others had also made plans. Next spring, they would mobilize everyone. Warriors and militia would continue the late autumn and early winter wolf hunting and trapping activities, stockpiling large quantities of pelts. Other Aettangr people and slaves would be gathered and transported by ship to various regions of the island to find maple trees, collect sap, and produce sugar. They aimed to fill all six ships bound for Europe next spring with precious goods like royal jelly and pelts.

Today, Haldor was having good luck. He had caught three trolls in a row and won three times with good cards. Suddenly, Jot rushed in from outside, his cloak still dusted with a few melting snowflakes.

“What’s wrong?”

Haldor saw Jot’s expression and knew something serious had happened. He quickly stood up and asked.

Jot pointed outside and said, “Just now, an Englishman came. He said he is a messenger sent by Elder Blaister, the leader of Plymouth on the western coast of the south. He wants to see you. I asked him some questions. It seems he wants to discuss cooperation or an alliance with us. Maybe they heard about our victory over the New France army and want to show goodwill.”

“We’ll meet him in the East Council Hall. Pikku, go bring the Englishman at the door to the East Council Hall.”

Without hesitation, Haldor pulled Jot toward the East Council Hall in the corridor to the east of the great hall and called Pikku to bring the English messenger in.

Olaf saw the situation, handed his cards to Tom, and quickly followed.

“Father, Uncle Jot, what’s happening?”

When Olaf arrived at the East Council Hall, Haldor and Jot were already seated at the round table.

“Olaf, sit next to me.”

After Olaf sat down, Haldor briefly explained the situation. Olaf nodded and said, “Father, you mentioned before that Francis sent you two letters, both saying that Governor Champlain of New France was ambiguous and had no intention of allying with us in Vinland. Now, the leader of New England has sent someone. I think both New France and New England have strange attitudes toward us.”

“Yes,” Haldor stroked his beard and shook his head. “Logically, Champlain is being pressured by the English and can barely feed himself. Allying with us would be beneficial and harmless. Why is he hesitating? New England sending someone might be to probe our attitude. After all, they must know that I have unified Vinland and that we defeated the New France army.”

Olaf and Jot couldn’t figure it out and were deep in thought when the door creaked open. Pikku, the Inuit oarsman of the Aettangr, still bent like a servant, led a thin man wearing a wolf pelt coat inside.

“The guest has arrived, sir.”

Pikku, who had grown a beard, bowed and then stood behind Olaf.

Although Pikku had become an Aettangr oarsman and gained the status of a freeman, he still lived in Haldor Castle and considered himself Olaf’s servant, which the Haldor family appreciated.

The messenger took off his hat, revealing handsome features. He looked very young, bowed to Haldor, and then forced a smile, speaking in a standard London accent: “Mr. Haldor, I am Pastor McG from Plymouth, sent by Elder Blaister to seek an audience with you.”

“Please sit.”

Haldor smiled, stood up, shook hands with McG, and then invited him to sit across from him.

After exchanging some pleasantries, Haldor sensed McG’s goodwill. Then, McG stood up solemnly and handed Haldor a personal letter from Elder Blaister. Haldor opened it and saw that it was filled with polite and humble greetings.

Knowing that the key matters still needed to be discussed with McG, Haldor put away the letter and looked at McG with a smile, asking, “Thank you for Elder Blaister’s greetings. Please convey my regards to him when you return. Pastor McG, you have come through ice and snow. Is there anything else?”

McG smiled and said, “I represent Elder Blaister. Besides conveying his greetings, I have another mission: to hope that Vinland and New England can establish a lasting friendship. Although we are far to the south, we have heard that Governor Champlain of New France sent soldiers to attack you and invade Vinland. The elder condemns Champlain’s despicable actions and is willing to stand with you.

Now, the war between the Protestant Union and the Catholic League in Europe is raging. We are both members of the Protestant faith. Even though we are far in North America, we should unite to drive out the French, who cling to outdated and corrupt doctrines.”

Chapter 59: A Tripartite Balance is True Stability

After McG’s persuasive speech, Haldor was tempted but did not commit.

After inviting McG to lunch, Haldor took the opportunity during the midday break to gather the major and minor chiefs—Olaf, Jot, Haig, Ulf, Kadir, and Hoskuld—for a discussion.

Upon learning that New England intended to ally with Vinland to expel the French and divide New France, Olaf’s heart raced. He found the proposal highly enticing.

Haig and Kadir burst into laughter, feeling their side had made a strong impression, even drawing the British to seek an alliance. They both expressed their agreement with New England’s proposal.

Most of the attending Oarsmen and helmsmen were not skilled in political matters, excelling instead in warfare, farming, and fishing. Thus, few were able to offer meaningful opinions.

After three or four people had voiced their agreement, Haldor turned to Heiner and asked, “What’s your opinion?”

Heiner stroked his chin thoughtfully before speaking. “The English have never been kind and benevolent like Baldr. They are cunning, fickle, treacherous, and vicious. My estate was seized by the English, so I know their wickedness well.

I’ve never heard of Blaister, the elder of Plymouth, so I don’t know if he truly wants to ally with us. However, if we join them to drive out the French, we will undoubtedly gain greatly in the short term. The Hurons and others who trade with the French will turn to us, and we will gain more fur resources.”

“You mean short term?” Hrutik’s scarred eye twitched as he repeated the phrase.

“Yes,” Heiner nodded, continuing. “We have established a friendship with Francis, the second-in-command of New France, and have no conflict with Governor Champlain. I don’t think we need to offend them. If they find financial or governmental support in France, we will be at a disadvantage in the future, whether in dealing with them or in war. It would be a loss for us either way.”

Heiner’s words chilled the room. Haldor glanced at Ulf.

Though Ulf was already twenty-three, he had only attended church school and spent the past eight years of his youth following his uncle. Thus, he was not particularly clever, but after listening to everyone’s opinions, he had some thoughts. He spoke slowly, “I think Heiner is right. Even if we ally with the English, it shouldn’t be now. We only unified Vinland this year, and most of our energy should be focused on developing Vinland’s land. If, in a few years, we have abundant resources and sufficient provisions and soldiers, I think dealing with the French or the English won’t be a problem.”

Haldor’s own thoughts were similar to Ulf’s, but he still wanted to hear the last person’s opinion, so he turned to Olaf.

Olaf felt the weight of everyone’s gaze and tapped his fingers on the table before speaking. “I think what my brother and Heiner said is correct. We don’t need to offend the French for some fur trade. Not to mention that New France is backed by powerful France, but for the sake of our friendship with Francis, we should maintain good relations with New France.

Champlain has no intention of allying with us, which shows he knows our strength threatens him. If we are strong and have a solid foundation, we can naturally invade the mainland, occupy New France, or even New England.

But our population and resources are far from sufficient. The best choice for us now is to maintain a tripartite balance—Vinland, New France, and New England coexisting in North America. After all, there are still many undeveloped areas in the New World. We should guide them to explore deeper into the continent rather than fight each other.”

Haldor’s resolve was strengthened by Olaf’s words. He then stood up and, accompanied by Haig and a few others, went to reject McG’s request, but also made it clear that they only wanted to focus on Vinland and were willing to maintain friendly relations with New England.

McG left Hrut City with a letter of greeting from Haldor to Elder Blaister, knowing that relying on the Icelanders was no longer an option. To drive out Champlain, he would have to rely on himself.

Olaf pushed open the window and watched the snowflakes drifting in the sky and the wet mud outside, realizing the snow had just fallen.

In his line of sight, McG and his two servants on horseback gradually disappeared. His eyes gradually emptied, and his thoughts drifted into the air.

Olaf had just learned that the current leader of New England was a Puritan, which made him think of certain possibilities.

He had heard several versions of the story of the Mayflower arriving in the New World and establishing a colony in his past life. McG and Blaister were among those who had sailed on the Mayflower.

The later Thanksgiving holiday was created by Blaister’s group to commemorate the Indians who had extended a helping hand to them, aiding them through famine. Although they and their descendants never hesitated to kill Indians, when eating turkey, everyone would still take a moment to remember the kind Indians.

Olaf recalled that although New England was initially managed by Puritans, after they occupied Quebec City, the Puritan ranks gradually split. Then, the leadership was diluted by the new batch of colonists sent by the London Company, wealthy landowners who took over the leadership positions. This led to the emergence of a new governor of New England with greater power, who took over all the rights of the governor of Plymouth. New England then became a thoroughly aggressive colony.

Olaf was well aware that within a hundred years, the British would establish sixteen colonies in North America, then drive out the French to establish the United States of America, eventually becoming the world’s superpower. Thus, he was most wary of the British.

Olaf believed that if New England continued to be led by Puritans, it might be better than being ruled by a governor like a bandit. After all, Elder Blaister and McG had not shown any ambition for Vinland or other North American lands. Their desire to drive out the French was not just for fur but more for the exclusive control of the vast, untouched missionary territories.

Olaf was not afraid of idealistic religious figures who aspired to sainthood; what he feared most were competitors who nakedly pursued their own interests.

By dinnertime, Olaf told his father that he hoped he would inform Champlain of New England’s intentions and Vinland’s decision the following spring. This might prompt Champlain to lean toward Vinland.

Then, Olaf reminded Haldor that they must maintain contact with both colonies and stay informed of their movements. If they detected any instability in the Puritan leadership of New England, they should extend a helping hand and support Blaister and his people. After all, a New England led by Puritans would be far easier to deal with than future governors who were criminals, politicians, or opportunists.

Olaf reiterated his opinion. He believed that now that Vinland was unified under Haldor’s rule, with over one hundred thousand square kilometers of land and inexhaustible resources, more than ten thousand subjects, and thousands of potential Indian slaves scattered across the land, Vinland’s resources were abundant.

The foundation of Hrut City was laid. Now, they did not need to expand outward but should focus on consolidating Vinland. They needed to quickly utilize their population and resources to develop Vinland, turning it into a base for provisions, industry, and shipbuilding.

Consolidating Vinland would take time, and during this period, they needed to maintain good relations with their neighbors to avoid external interference. Therefore, they must maintain the balance in North America. New France, New England, and Vinland formed a triangular relationship. Vinland should mediate between the two to ensure stability rather than participate in or initiate wars.

Haldor, Ulf, Haig, and Hrutik were all deeply inspired by Olaf’s words. They had never been rulers before and had never seen a model for developing people’s livelihoods and industries. After hearing Olaf’s plan, Haldor immediately agreed on the spot, and everyone happily drank a few more cups of wine.

Chapter 60: Do You Want to Go Home?

Haldor and the others were still playing cards late into the night when Olaf excused himself to return to his room.

Back in his room, Olaf lit a candle made of animal fat and, by its dim glow, began reading through his handwritten notes—three large volumes filled with knowledge, culture, and historical information he had accumulated over the years.

After a while, the door creaked open, and Pikku entered carrying a basin of hot water. “The footbath is ready, sir,” he said. “Go ahead and soak your feet.”

In this era of backward productivity, where Olaf lived in a sparsely populated and culturally underdeveloped region, entertainment was scarce. Beyond drinking, fighting, and the occasional naked brawl between men and women, there was little else to do.

To pass the time and maintain his health, Olaf had adopted a habit since arriving in Vinland—soaking his feet every night before bed for about an hour. Afterward, he would feel warm and sweaty, making it easier to fall into a deep, comfortable sleep.

Though Pikku was now an Oarsman of the Aettangr, he still lived outside Olaf’s house by the fire wall. Olaf had always treated him well, and Pikku saw him as family. Every night, he would prepare Olaf’s footbath and only leave once the water was taken away.

Sometimes, when Olaf had nothing better to do, he would chat with Pikku—about Iceland, about learning the Inuit language, or about Pikku’s simple and harsh life. But more often, Olaf would boast about his “dreams”—fragments of his past life. He used the pretense of dreams to confide in Pikku, partly to vent his frustrations and partly because Pikku, with his limited worldview, treated these stories like heavenly revelations.

That night, as Olaf soaked his feet, he spoke of the distant Ming Dynasty in the Far East. He thought of the future hardships that would befall the Chinese people, of the Qing Dynasty that would rise centuries later, and his mood grew restless. The source of his agitation was his knowledge that, in just over a decade, the Han dynasty would be wiped out—and there was nothing he could do about it.

Glancing at Pikku, with his thick beard and fur-lined clothes that made him look like a Mongolian noble, Olaf chuckled. “You’re only twenty-one, yet with that beard, you could pass for thirty.”

Pikku twisted his head, grinning. “The colder it gets, the more hair grows—keeps me warm. If you don’t like it, I’ll shave it off tomorrow.”

Olaf quickly waved his hands. “No, no, I was just asking. It actually suits you quite well.”

“Really?” Pikku laughed. “My father and brothers are the real warriors.”

His tone darkened slightly. Olaf noticed the shift in his mood and asked, “You miss home?”

“Not really,” Pikku shook his head. “In Greenland, we never had enough to eat. Life with you is good. My father and brothers are whale hunters—they’ll be fine. It’s just… my mother… she doted on me the most. She had a coughing sickness. The chieftain said she wouldn’t last long. I think she might already be gone.”

Olaf’s body went cold as he listened. He lifted his feet from the basin, letting them air-dry. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “Do you want to go home and see for yourself?”

Pikku didn’t speak. He didn’t move.

Olaf knew he wanted to go—he just couldn’t. As a slave, even if he was nominally an Oarsman, he had no authority to command a ship to Greenland. Whether he spoke or stayed silent, it made no difference.

A heavy weight settled in Olaf’s chest. He wanted to help Pikku, but he wasn’t the leader of Vinland. He had no right to order a ship to take him home. Even though he owned an armed merchant ship, its actual use was controlled by Haldor. Without Olaf’s ship and funds, Haldor, at his young age, would never have been able to command two Aettangr. The Icelanders would have raised objections, but Olaf’s contributions—a ship and dozens of white slaves—had silenced the doubters.

Olaf had neither the right nor the reason to send Pikku home, but he genuinely wanted to help this loyal, honest Inuit man. There was another reason, too—Pikku’s face reminded him of an Easterner, especially with the beard, resembling the singer Teng Ger, who had once sung “Wings of Steel.” It made Olaf feel a strange sense of familiarity and comfort, even making him want to teach Pikku to sing “Invisible Wings.”

Since Olaf wanted to help Pikku return to Greenland, he considered whether he could persuade his father to send a ship and soldiers there to establish a colony.

But this was the Little Ice Age. The world was growing colder, and Greenland’s climate was far harsher than it had been centuries ago. The Viking settlers who had once lived there had been wiped out over a hundred years ago. Now, across Greenland’s 2.6 million square kilometers, only ten or twenty thousand Inuit struggled to survive in the freezing cold.

Greenland’s climate made agriculture impossible. With only moss and a few shrubs, the only viable industry was animal husbandry. But even cows and horses couldn’t endure the cold of the Little Ice Age, which was why the original Viking settlers had perished.

Without farming or livestock, and with a shortage of firewood, Greenland held little value. It was no wonder that King Christian IV of Denmark had established the Greenland Company yet failed to establish a single colony there before his death.

After much thought, Olaf suddenly had an idea—reindeer. Before 1950, Greenland had tens of thousands of reindeer, but Danish colonists had hunted them to extinction. Only later were new reindeer introduced to repopulate the island.

Thinking of reindeer reminded Olaf of another animal native to Greenland—the muskox. These creatures, along with polar bears and Arctic wolves, thrived in large numbers.

The Inuit of Greenland, limited by their primitive tools and small numbers, couldn’t hunt reindeer or muskox on a large scale. But the Vikings could.

Greenland wasn’t without agricultural potential—it just lacked arable land. However, it had abundant pastoral resources. The problem was that no one was utilizing them.

Greenland was home to reindeer, muskox, walruses, seals, and vast schools of fish. The Inuit, with their small kayaks and bone weapons, could barely exploit these resources. But with the Vikings’ advanced tools, weapons, and ships, these resources could be developed into a vast fortune. Vinland’s proximity to Greenland meant it could provide supplies and support—something Denmark couldn’t match.

Olaf knew that among the new Vikings—composed of Icelanders, Irish, Scots, and Beothuk—the Beothuk were skilled hunters, while the Icelanders and other whites could raise and domesticate animals. The vast herds of muskox and reindeer were valuable for their meat and fur. Colonizing Greenland would be beneficial—the meat could sustain the colonists, and the fur would be a lucrative export.

If the local reindeer, already adapted to Greenland’s climate, were domesticated and raised, Greenland could become a major reindeer breeding ground, providing a steady supply of meat and fur for the Vikings.

Beyond these resources, Olaf thought of the tens of thousands of Inuit on Greenland. Surviving in such harsh conditions, fighting beasts daily, they were fierce and brave—perfect warrior material. If he could recruit them into the Viking Raid, it would strengthen the entire organization.

Greenland covered 2.6 million square kilometers, with 340,000 square kilometers free of ice and snow. Though only 300,000 square kilometers were truly habitable for animals, that was still a vast area.

England, by comparison, was less than 200,000 square kilometers. But no matter how large Greenland was, its harsh climate and scarce resources made development difficult.

Even if Greenland’s usable land was equal to Vinland and Iceland combined, it required careful planning.

If used properly, turning the entire 300,000 square kilometers into grazing and hunting grounds, with proper logistics, could sustain tens of thousands of regular troops.

The more Olaf thought about it, the more excited he became. In his enthusiasm, he kicked over the basin of water. Laughing, he declared, “Pikku, you will go home—and you must go home!”

Chapter 61: Christmas

Since Olaf had not yet discussed his sudden idea of colonizing Greenland with Haldor, he kept it to himself to avoid disappointing Pikku if the plan ultimately failed.

After Pikku finished cleaning the wooden basin and disposing of the wastewater, Olaf blew out the candle, lay in bed, and refined his idea until he was satisfied there were no flaws before falling into a deep sleep, preparing to discuss the Greenland colonization plan with his father, Haldor, the next day.

When Olaf woke up, it was already daylight. Pikku entered with hot water to assist him in washing up, and then Olaf took Pikku downstairs to the dining room for breakfast.

Katrin knew her husband and son had worked tirelessly to develop Vinland, so she prepared lavish meals every day. That morning, they had black bread, fried venison, hot milk, and a cold dish of beets with black pepper, salt, honey, and pickled radishes.

Olaf had long since adapted to Icelandic cuisine. Though he sometimes found it barely acceptable, he could tolerate it overall.

Once the family was gathered, they said grace before the meal and ate in silence. Afterward, Haldor, Haig, Ulf, and Olaf rested on the sofas by the fireplace while Pikku stood nearby to attend to them. Katrin went to wash the dishes, and Half and Gerny, under Katrin’s supervision, went to their rooms to practice writing.

Though sofas had been invented in the early seventeenth century, Olaf had rarely seen them in Iceland. The first time he encountered one was in Amsterdam. Due to material limitations, the sofas were still quite crude and primitive in design.

The sofas in Haldor’s fortress were made from the hides of white wolves and reindeer by Scottish and Irish slaves, stuffed with seabird feathers, leaves, and sheep’s wool, making them soft and warm.

Seeing that Haldor, Haig, and Ulf seemed eager to play cards or Gomoku, Olaf quickly shared his idea from the previous night.

The three men fell into deep thought. Haig then turned to Pikku and asked, “How many Inuit are there in Greenland?”

Pikku looked confused. In his twenty years in Greenland, he had only visited a few neighboring villages and met fewer than a hundred people, so he had no way of answering Haig’s question.

Olaf noticed Pikku’s discomfort and said, “Pikku doesn’t know, but I estimate the population must be larger than Vinland’s. These people are excellent hunters and warriors, and there are countless reindeer and muskoxen. If we conquer the Inuit of Greenland, we can take control of the entire island.”

Haldor, Haig, and Ulf were all tempted. In the past, few people had attempted to colonize Greenland, and those who did were disorganized, lacking the vision and ability to establish large-scale colonial rule. But now, with Vinland as a stronghold, Haldor had the means to send warriors to colonize Greenland, making the endeavor far more feasible.

Ulf recalled something Jot had mentioned a few days earlier and said, “Father, Uncle, Jot mentioned that most of the Beothuk slaves in Hrut City obey orders, but the White Wolf Warriors refuse to do anything but fight and hunt. They don’t want to work in agriculture or logging. Jot said he would discipline them next spring when the weather warms up.”

He continued, “I think these few hundred White Wolf Warriors are indeed fierce and skilled in battle. Using them as laborers would be a waste. Since we’ve unified Vinland and won’t have any wars in the near future, why not send them to Greenland to help us conquer the Inuit?”

“Ulf, that’s a good idea,” Haldor said, his eyes lighting up. “Jot has complained to me a few times. We have enough labor in Hrut City now, so sending these restless White Wolf Warriors to Greenland is a perfect solution.”

After some discussion, Haldor decided to have Pikku lead his Aettangr people and the five hundred White Wolf Warriors from Hrut City to colonize Greenland. This would give them over seven hundred men, equipped with plate armor, long spears, and firelock muskets—enough to sweep across Greenland.

With Vinland recently unified, they only needed to cultivate a thousand acres of land in the spring to feed the tens of thousands in Hrut City. This would free up a significant amount of labor, allowing them to begin infrastructure projects and the third phase of Hrut City’s construction.

Sending the White Wolf Warriors, who refused to do manual labor, to Greenland to gradually colonize the land, conquer the Inuit, and raise reindeer and muskoxen was a sound plan. In a few years, Vinland might gain tens of thousands of Inuit warriors, along with a vast supply of furs and meat.

After making this decision, Haldor appointed Pikku as the Governor of Greenland, tasking him with leading the conquest and colonization of Greenland next spring.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Pikku knelt and kissed Haldor’s and Olaf’s feet, promising to fully conquer Greenland within five years and lead all the Inuit to welcome Haldor’s inspection.

Time passed quickly in the cold winter, as people stayed indoors to pass the days.

December was nearly over, and today was the twenty-fifth—the greatest holiday for both Protestants and Catholics: Christmas.

Christmas was a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, the Son of God in the Holy Trinity. Since the Bible did not record the exact date of Jesus’ birth, ancient scholars had adopted the Roman festival of Saturnalia as Christmas Day, giving rise to the holiday.

In the early seventeenth century, Christmas had not yet taken on the entertainment and commercial aspects it would in later years. It was simply a day for attending church services, praying, and enjoying pancakes and a glass of wine.

Vinland had no churches, so the Icelanders and other white settlers prayed at home and drank a glass of wine. Since the white slaves had become Vikings, Haldor had given each household a jug of wine, depleting half of the summer’s production. The remaining wine would not be enough to sell in Europe the following spring.

The family in Haldor’s fortress prayed for blessings, shared pancakes, and drank a glass of wine. They refrained from entertainment and reflected on the past year.

Haldor, as the lord of Vinland, bore the weight of tens of thousands of lives. He could no longer return to the carefree life he had led years before. Every day, he racked his brain to develop Vinland, planning for spring production, dispatching merchant ships to Europe, and maintaining good relations with New England and New France. The burden was immense, but it also brought him extraordinary joy.

Olaf had been an atheist in his past life and did not truly believe in Jehovah in this one. However, for the sake of his family’s future, he prayed for divine protection.

In five days, it would be the New Year. Olaf could no longer celebrate the Lunar New Year, nor could he keep track of it, so he treated the Gregorian New Year as his Spring Festival. He looked forward to the coming year with hope, knowing that if all went well, Hrut City would trade furs and other goods from the conquered tribes and hunting expeditions for far greater wealth in Europe than they had this year. That wealth would then be reinvested into Vinland’s foundation.

These prospects were certainly cause for celebration, but Olaf was more concerned about the deal with the Amsterdam Bank. If the technical books from the Ming Dynasty that he and Kuiyi had agreed to purchase last year arrived safely, Vinland’s agricultural and handicraft industries would have a solid foundation. With improved mining channels and skilled workers, they might even lay the groundwork for heavy industry.

Olaf recalled that, if his memory served him correctly, the first Industrial Revolution, which had propelled the Western world forward over a hundred years later, had been built in part on Eastern scientific texts like The Exploitation of the Works of Nature. At the very least, the introduction of the bellows had improved the production and quality of iron, a cornerstone of industrial development.

Chapter 62: Spring Blossoms

The New Year’s Day of 1629 arrived swiftly, yet as January set in, Vinland’s temperatures remained as bitterly cold as ever, showing no signs of warming.

After entering January, Vinland was struck by three consecutive heavy snowfalls. It wasn’t until February that the thick layer of snow, which had blanketed Vinland for over a month—reaching depths of two feet—finally began to melt, revealing the dark rocks and soil beneath.

In February, though the nights in Vinland were still bone-chillingly cold, the midday temperatures gradually climbed above freezing under the sun.

By mid-February, while the northern regions of Vinland still retained patches of snow in the shaded areas, the southern parts grew increasingly warm. Rivers thawed, their waters gurgling as they flowed southward into the warm currents of the Atlantic.

Starting from mid-February, under the leadership of their chiefs, the people of Hrut City began venturing outdoors. Women, children, and some men and slaves remained behind to tidy up, repair drainage channels, and manage waste disposal.

The Vikings, accompanied by warriors and most of the male slaves, dispersed into the northern Avalon Forest and the inland forests to hunt, replenishing the stockpiles of furs in their warehouses.

The Viking force of one thousand was divided into one hundred teams, each accompanied by thirty Beothuk warrior slaves. They spread across various locations in Vinland, launching a massive hunting campaign that swept through the entire region.

Governor Blackstone, stationed in Bakens Lake City and responsible for recruiting the local natives, soon encountered nearby hunting parties. He dispatched over five hundred warriors to join the hunt and also retrieved a large stockpile of furs, sending a contingent of warriors to escort them to Hrut City as tribute to Haldor, the Heavenly God.

The seas surrounding the southeastern peninsula of Vinland, influenced by the warm currents of the Caribbean, remained ice-free year-round despite the high latitude. Thus, establishing a deep-water port in a suitable location would be an inevitable necessity as Vinland developed.

Haldor, Hrutik, and Haig split into three teams to scout the coastline for potential port locations, particularly near Turning Point.

Starting this year, as Hrut City began to consolidate the resources of the entire 110,000 square kilometers of Vinland, the colony was poised to become a powerful settlement. Building ports would be essential, so they needed to start selecting sites now. After several days, they finally chose a location southwest of the Muskox River’s southern mouth, utilizing a small peninsula to the east to construct docks on both the eastern and western shores, transforming it into a formal port.

Olaf personally inspected the site and found it satisfactory, believing it would meet Vinland’s needs for decades. However, he recalled the future city of St. John’s at the northeastern tip of the peninsula, the capital of Canada’s Newfoundland and Labrador province, which would be the most suitable location for a deep-water port on the island. He decided to search for that spot later.

A week later, after Hrut City had been thoroughly cleaned and organized, Haldor ordered all remaining Vikings in the city to lead slaves in search of maple trees to collect sap for producing maple syrup, initiating another major industry.

Vinland’s two main industries were the export of furs from animals such as beavers, otters, white wolves, black bears, reindeer, seals, foxes, and squirrels, which formed the core of Vinland’s economy.

The second major industry was sugar production. Due to Vinland’s unique geography and climate, growing sugarcane for sugar was nearly impossible. However, nature had been kind.

The maple syrup produced from maple sap, which Olaf had named “Royal Honey,” had brought in vast wealth during their trip to Europe last year. This had made Haldor and the others see the enormous potential of Vinland’s sugar industry.

Looking at the maple trees scattered across Vinland, Haldor estimated there were about ten thousand trees capable of producing sugar. If fully utilized, they could produce half the amount of syrup exported by Spain’s Caribbean colonies, making it a second major industry comparable to the fur trade.

Haldor and the other chiefs placed great importance on these two industries. Haldor even divided the regions, urging the Oarsmen to lead the slaves in production. He also set a quota for each chief and Viking, leaving it to them whether to sell or use their share.

In the high-level plans of Hrut City, after the two main industries, there were three emerging industries: fishing, agriculture, and animal husbandry.

With access to a world-class fishing ground, it was essential to develop shipbuilding to utilize the fishing resources. Additionally, agriculture and animal husbandry could be developed. The 110,000 square kilometers of land, depending on the climate, could be used for farming in the south, growing crops like grains and potatoes, which could be exported for profit in the future.

The colder northern regions could be used for raising cattle, sheep, horses, and reindeer, becoming a source of wool, cowhide, and deerskin products.

However, agriculture and animal husbandry would take another year or two to determine their feasibility, so Haldor’s focus this year remained on the two main industries.

Olaf led his two Aettangr and the Aettangr of Pikku and Ilugi, totaling over four hundred people, roaming the peninsula daily in search of maple trees to collect sap for sugar production, keeping them busy.

Haldor implemented a system in Vinland that combined slavery, chieftaincy, and military organization, known as the Viking Raid system. Given the small core population and the rule over primitive natives, this system was currently very convenient.

Haldor divided the profits from agriculture, hunting, and sugar production with the Fylki district chief, Haig. Haig then distributed the profits to the two Mannafylki helmsmen under him, who further distributed them to the Aettangr Oarsmen, and finally to the production team leaders and Vikings.

The current distribution ratio was that 30% of the harvest was submitted to Hrut City. Of the remaining 70%, the Raid General Haldor received 10%, the Fylki received 5% of the remainder, the Mannafylki helmsmen received 4% of the new remainder, the Aettangr Oarsmen received 3%, and the production team leaders received 2%.

After this layered distribution, each Viking could still secure 45% of the wealth they and their slaves created. Even in other European countries, they would have to pay substantial taxes. If they were tenant farmers working for a landlord, they would earn even less. In comparison, the Vikings’ earnings were quite substantial, especially since the wealth gained by their slaves was also considered theirs. With just one slave earning an extra 50, it was as if they hadn’t paid any taxes.

The Viking Raid system was modeled after the ancient Viking expeditions and colonization, so the distribution model resembled the ancient Viking spoils division rather than modern taxation, making it easier for the subordinates to accept.

Olaf had pondered this. Although the earnings seemed similar, the Viking Raid was a collective entrepreneurial venture where spoils and harvests were distributed. Traditional landlords and lords were exploitative. The Vikings’ good life was built on the tragic fate of the plundered and enslaved, so naturally, they supported this system.

Olaf understood that the current Viking Raid was a collective startup team with strong cohesion and combat power before corruption set in, much like the Later Jin’s Eight Banners in the Far East at the same latitude and period. Years later, under Huang Taiji’s leadership, it would transform into Manchuria, marking the rapid rise from the Eight Banners to Manchuria.

Comparing it to Manchuria, Olaf believed the Viking Raid might also have a rise period of twenty or even thirty years.

Gazing at the sun in the sky and feeling its faint warmth on his face, Olaf sighed deeply and murmured, “Spring is coming, and the flowers will bloom. I hope the Viking Raid can flourish like the plants and trees.”

Chapter 63: The First Viking Raid Expedition

After half a month of bustling activity, Hrut City welcomed the true spring of Vinland in 1629.

Seabirds soared through the sky, trees sprouted tender green shoots, and beneath the shade, one could spot beavers, squirrels, and other small animals cautiously foraging. The Vikings hunted reindeer and white wolves with bows and firearms, while they trapped smaller creatures like beavers and muskrats using snares and traps. Though Vinland’s resources were abundant, the wildlife population remained vast. Even after years of overhunting, one could still encounter small wild animals in the wilderness.

Vinland was vast, and the areas truly developed by humans were limited to Hrut City, Great Waterfall City, Bakens Lake, and a few other places. The rest of the forests and mountains remained the domain of various animals.

By March, seasoned sailors like Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik sensed the Caribbean warm current becoming more active as temperatures rose. The warm winds from the southwest grew stronger.

Years of experience told them it was time to set sail.

After the first Viking Raid leadership meeting of 1629, Haldor appointed Pikku and provided him with ample supplies. He ordered three armed merchant ships to carry provisions, an Aettangr of Vikings, and over five hundred White Wolf Warriors to colonize Greenland.

Greenland lacked trees, and thus timber, so the Inuit lived in snow houses or caves. Haldor knew timber was a precious commodity in Greenland, so he allowed Pikku to bring enough wood to build houses.

Upon accepting his appointment, Pikku began preparing for the expedition with over a hundred Inuit and four hundred White Wolf Warriors. They gathered various supplies and transported food and timber.

Three days later, everything was ready. Pikku’s Aettangr of over a hundred people, along with their families and slaves, boarded one ship. They also brought three Viking farmers skilled in animal husbandry—former Irish landowners who had grown up on ranches. These men were experts in tending and raising animals and could treat their ailments, making them essential for developing livestock farming in Greenland.

This single ship carried over two hundred people and was nearly at full capacity with supplies.

The other two ships were loaded with timber, food, and over five hundred White Wolf Warriors, who were still technically slaves belonging to Haldor and Haig. However, their management had been temporarily entrusted to Pikku. If they successfully conquered all the natives in Greenland, Haldor promised that those with outstanding achievements would be granted “elevated status,” becoming the highest-ranking Vikings under the command of General Haldor of the Viking Raid, no longer slaves.

After the three armed merchant ships departed from the southern bay of Hrut City, Haldor continued to lead the city’s ten thousand people in hunting and producing maple syrup. Meanwhile, the Thor’s Hammer, Hope, and a mixed-rigged schooner began fishing for cod in the eastern waters of Vinland, preparing fish for drying.

While the colonization and industrial development continued in and around Vinland, the three armed merchant ships, led by Captains Hilt, Brun, and Polly, had already left the waters near Vinland and were approaching Greenland to the north.

Several days later, the three ships reached the southern coast of Greenland and temporarily anchored to rest.

The northern part of Greenland was an uninhabited frozen wasteland, too cold even for the hardiest Inuit, who lived in the central and southern regions. Only the coastal areas within a few hundred kilometers could support human and animal life; beyond that lay glaciers.

Pikku lived on the eastern coast of Greenland, where the North Atlantic current made the temperature slightly higher than the western coast. However, the eastern coast was also filled with floating ice, making navigation difficult. Thus, the early Viking colonies in Greenland were established in the southern regions.

It was mid-March, and the northern parts of Vinland were still in the grip of winter, with temperatures below freezing. The floating ice on the eastern coast showed no signs of melting, making it impossible for ships to pass. Moreover, the eastern coast had far fewer Inuit than the western coast, making it an unsuitable place for establishing a colony.

The night before Pikku’s departure, Olaf and his servant had a long conversation. Olaf knew Pikku was a quick learner, brave, and sincere—a rare and valuable assistant. Though reluctant to let him go, Olaf had to send him for the sake of incorporating Greenland into Vinland’s territory. He did his best to advise Pikku.

Olaf’s knowledge of Greenland from his past life was limited. He knew it was a free state with some resources, but not ones that could be developed at present.

Olaf knew that in the future, the capital of Greenland, Nuuk, would be located on the southern part of the western coast. Since the Danes chose to establish a colony there two hundred years later, and it became the capital in later times, Nuuk must be the most suitable place for colonization.

Pikku remembered every word of advice his master had given him that night. Upon arriving in Greenland the next day, he set sail again, heading north to find the place called “Nuuk.”

Nuuk meant “cape” in the Inuit language. Every day, Pikku stood on the deck, looking east, hoping to see a large cape.

At noon the next day, Pikku finally spotted a massive cape on the northeastern coast, with a large strait to its south.

As the ship approached, Pikku realized it wasn’t a cape but a large island rising high above the sea, with a vast area.

Looking southeast from the island, several capes jutted out, making it ideal for ships of all sizes to navigate and dock. After a moment’s thought, Pikku decided this might be Nuuk and ordered the ship to approach.

An hour later, the three large ships discovered a natural harbor with a concave shape, perfect for docking.

After the ships docked, Pikku could see a dozen or so tents made of whale skin and bones on a distant hillside, round and plump like women, probably four or five thousand steps away, maybe even farther.

Seeing the whale skin tents, Pikku knew this must be the territory of a large tribe, as only great shamans and chiefs lived in such tents.

“Women and children, stay on the ship. Five hundred White Wolf Warriors and Viking men, follow me. Put on your leather armor and plate armor, take your weapons. Let’s conquer the nearby Inuit tribe first, and tonight we’ll sleep in warm whale skin tents.”

Pikku laughed heartily and stopped the Inuit women on the ship from packing their belongings to follow the men ashore. Then he issued his first combat order upon arriving in Greenland.

Over five hundred White Wolf Warriors, dressed in white wolf pelts and leather armor given by Haldor, gathered on the shore with sharp iron weapons like long swords and spears.

Fifty Inuit warriors also donned the full plate armor brought on the ship and stood beside the White Wolf Warriors with spears.

Pikku and the three captains, Hilt, Brun, and Polly, also changed into plate armor. Each carried a firelock musket, with short spears and large axes at their waists.

For this expedition to Greenland, Haldor had not given Pikku any firearms, only plate armor, leather armor, and weapons like spears and long swords.

Pikku’s firelock musket was a personal gift from Olaf for self-defense. The firearms carried by Hilt and the others were clearly rewards from Haldor.

Although Hilt and the others were only escorting Pikku to Greenland and had no hierarchical difference, they were not obligated to help Pikku fight. However, regardless of Pikku being Haldor’s personal slave, for the sake of the Viking Raid’s expedition victory and the interests of Hrut City, the three would not stand idly by.

Pikku also knew that these three white men, similar in age to him, were trusted subordinates of Haldor and Hrutik. Having interacted with them for many days, he had always been humble. Seeing the troops assembled, Pikku invited Hilt and the others to give the order. The three declined, stating they would follow his arrangements.

Pikku no longer stood on ceremony. Pointing to the distant hillside, he said, “That hillside is an Inuit tribe. The population is at most fifty, but it could be close to a hundred. Everyone, stay alert. While they haven’t reacted yet, move quickly. When we get close, the Viking soldiers will attack from the front, and the White Wolf Warriors will attack from the side.”

Pikku had learned much from Haldor, Haig, and Hrutik about troop deployment and tactical command. Now, mimicking their methods, he organized the troops systematically, earning the respect of Hilt and the others. They felt Haldor’s decision to send Pikku was well-considered.

Chapter 64: Journey to Europe

By the time Hilt and his two companions returned to Vinland from Greenland, it was already early April.

The temperature in Hrut City was growing warmer by the day. The Vikings, leading their slaves, were busy cultivating land outside the city and planting crops such as sweet potatoes, potatoes, rye, and barley—all cold-resistant and high-yielding. With these crops sown, a bountiful harvest would arrive by late autumn.

Currently, there were one thousand acres of land outside Hrut City. Jot, in charge of agriculture, planned to cultivate an additional four thousand acres during this golden spring planting season. Half would be planted with rye and other grains, while the other half would be dedicated to potatoes and sweet potatoes.

To better manage the farmland, Hrut City would establish several fortified village outposts among the fields this year. These would serve both to protect the crops from animals and to facilitate management.

As the land expanded, traveling to and from Hrut City on foot each day would waste too much energy and time. It was far more efficient to build small agricultural fortresses outside the city, allowing Vikings and some slaves to take turns residing there while tending to the crops.

This decision, proposed by Jot after careful consideration, was immediately implemented. Ten sites had already been selected outside the city, each overseen by an Aettangr. The remaining eight Aettangr would manage the farmland within and around the city.

Hilt and his two companions returned to Hrut City with a chest of walrus tusks, a massive whalebone, one hundred seal pelts, and three bear pelts. These gifts were spoils from the campaign led by Pikku and the three Vikings, along with the White Wolf Warriors, against the Inuit tribes. Most of the plunder had been sent to Haldor’s Fortress and presented to Haldor, the Viking Raid general and ruler of Vinland.

Haldor commended the three captains and rewarded each with ten slaves before waving them off as the goods were carried into storage.

Upon hearing the news, Olaf also rushed back to the fortress. Haig, Kadir, Heiner, Ulf, and others soon arrived as well. Haldor knew they were all concerned about Pikku’s colonization efforts in Greenland, so he had Polly and Brun recount the details.

Hilt, who stuttered slightly, could only smile as he listened to his two companions describe the thrilling expedition in Greenland.

“Twelve days ago, we first rested on an island at the southern tip of Greenland,” Polly began.

“When we reached Nuuk, we didn’t rest but immediately conquered an Inuit tribe of eighty people. Pikku said this was considered a large tribe since Inuit in Greenland usually live in groups of only ten or so,” Brun continued. “After conquering them, we enslaved them and ordered them to help transport goods and build a camp. Three days later, after constructing a simple camp with timber, we launched a campaign against eight nearby tribes, ultimately adding over three hundred slaves. However, one White Wolf Warrior was wounded in the foot by an Inuit warrior. Pikku rewarded all these slaves to the White Wolf Warriors.”

“With the camp established, we returned with these gifts.”

After listening to Polly and Brun, everyone understood that Pikku’s conquest of the Inuit had gone smoothly, just as expected. After all, the Inuit were no match for the White Wolf Warriors, especially with advanced weapons and Viking soldiers aiding them. Suffering only one injury to subdue over three hundred people was to be expected.

“Pikku will likely conquer the southern and western coasts centered around Nuuk this year. Since their population has just surged, food will be hard to secure. We should send more support. Once the fleet returns from Europe, we’ll send a shipment of grain and timber to Greenland,” Haldor said, rubbing his hands together with a smile.

Afterward, Haldor gathered the remaining Oarsmen leaders and decided in the meeting that the fleet would set sail for Europe at the end of the month to trade goods. Since Vinland had just been unified, many production and livelihood issues needed addressing, along with diplomatic relations with the New England and New France colonies. Haldor, Jot, Heiner, and the others were struggling to keep up.

Thus, this year, Olaf and Hrutik would stay behind to assist Haldor in managing Vinland, while Haig, Ulf, Brun, Polly, Hilt, and the others would handle the European trade.

Olaf knew he was still too young. Even if he went to Europe, he wouldn’t be able to change much. It was better to stay in Vinland and experiment with the two Aettangr’s Vikings and slaves—perhaps he could achieve something.

Last year, Hrutik, Haig, Ulf, Olaf, and others had gone to Europe to sell furs and royal jelly, returning with four ships and numerous weapons, equipment, and supplies. This year, the amount of furs and royal jelly was twenty and thirty times greater, respectively. Haldor instructed Haig and Ulf that this year, they only needed to bring back ten armed warships and enough weapons to equip one thousand Viking soldiers.

Haldor’s plan was for every Viking Raid soldier to have a firelock musket and plate armor. He felt there could never be too many weapons and equipment, especially with two restless neighbors nearby.

Besides weapons, equipment, and ships, Haldor also told Haig to pay special attention to artisans and technical personnel, particularly experts in mineral exploration and mining, as well as shipbuilders. In the future, Vinland would need its own shipbuilding industry and mining development; otherwise, purchasing ships, weapons, equipment, and ironware would consume most of their income.

Haldor promised Haig that no matter how high the salary, they must recruit suitable artisans to Hrut City. This was crucial for Vinland’s development and future prosperity.

Haldor’s realization was actually the result of Olaf’s persuasion. Initially, Haldor had no intention of developing industry in Vinland—at most, some handicrafts. But Olaf knew that a nation without an industrial foundation would be at the mercy of others.

Once the Thirty Years’ War ended, England and France would rapidly rise through the support of their overseas colonies, while Sweden, Holland, and Denmark would continue to advance.

If their small island on the eastern coast of North America didn’t take the initiative, it would eventually be contested and occupied by England and France. Forget about nation-building and counterattacking Europe—even their survival would be uncertain.

Olaf had explained to Haldor in simple terms that industry equaled productivity, which equaled military strength, which equaled national power. Haldor realized that for Vinland to develop and secure its place in this era of great contention, it must develop shipbuilding and mining industries. Without these, they couldn’t even protect themselves, let alone expand.

Six large ships were quickly loaded with furs, dried fish, and royal jelly—three types of goods.

“Don’t disgrace us Icelanders in Europe. If anyone dares to eye our wealth, teach them a harsh lesson,” Haldor said nervously as he oversaw the six ships of goods. Before departure, he reminded Haig and Ulf.

“Don’t worry, brother. My axe isn’t just for chopping wood,” Haig laughed heartily, patting the axe at his waist, which clanged loudly.

“Father, rest assured. We have over a hundred Viking warriors. Even if we have to slaughter an entire dock, it’ll be enough. I think only we can provoke others—no one dares to provoke us,” Ulf said with a cheerful laugh.

After a few more words, Haig, Ulf, and the others began inspecting the goods. Then, they bid farewell to Haldor and the others with embraces before boarding the ships with one hundred twenty sailors and twenty Viking soldiers.

On April 9, 1629, after a year of preparation, Hrut City in Vinland had gathered wealth worth hundreds of thousands of pounds of silver. The fleet, led by Haig and Ulf, carried the hopes and blessings of tens of thousands of people as they departed from Turning Point. Riding the winds of what would later be named the Gulf Stream, they sailed away, soon disappearing over the horizon.

This year’s fleet had departed twenty days earlier than last year. Currently, there were no English or French fishing boats in the southeastern waters of Vinland. However, based on estimates from several old servants who had lived in Vinland with Haig for nine years, Haldor and Ulf knew that in about ten days, English and French fishing boats would begin appearing in the southeastern waters of Vinland.

Haldor let out a cold snort in his heart. Gazing at the vast, boundless sea, his eyes gleamed as he muttered, “Just wait. In the future, no foreign ships will be allowed to sail and fish in Vinland’s waters.”

UNTITLED

Chapter 1: Golden-Haired Olaf
Chapter 2: Bad News
Chapter 3: Feudal Society Devours People
Chapter 4: A Countermeasure
Chapter 5: Reputation Matters
Chapter 6: Brawl
Chapter 7: Scheming
Chapter 8: The Visit
Chapter 9: Starting School
Chapter 10: The Tale of the Hrutstakki Family

Chapter 11: Haldor’s Fame Spreads Across Iceland

Chapter 12: Purchasing Arms

Chapter 13: The Exploitation of the Works of Nature

Chapter 14: The Hammer of Thor
Chapter 15: Uncle
Chapter 16: Court Assembly
Chapter 17: The Governor of Iceland
Chapter 18: War Contribution
Chapter 19: Crisis Averted?
Chapter 20: Assassination
Chapter 21: Turning the Tables
Chapter 22: Poison
Chapter 23: Waiting for the Rabbit
Chapter 24: A Kind Father and a Filial Son
Chapter 25: Ambition
Chapter 26: Setting Sail
Chapter 27: Greenland
Chapter 28: The Inuit
Chapter 29: Pikku
Chapter 30: Arrival
Chapter 31: Grapes
Chapter 32: The Black Bear Kills
Chapter 33: Semi-Military Management
Chapter 34: Haldor Manor
Chapter 35: Haig
Chapter 36: Haig’s Fortress
Chapter 1: Overseas Visitors
Chapter 2: The Feast
Chapter 3: Relocation and the Harsh Winter
Chapter 4: Icelandic Musketeers

Chapter 5: Contemplating the Eight Banners System

Chapter 6: The Deer Hunters
Chapter 7: Spring
Chapter 8: Boiling Salt
Chapter 9: Beaver Pelts
Chapter 10: Opportunity
Chapter 11: The Decision
Chapter 12: Olaf’s First Pot of Gold
Chapter 13: Royal Jelly
Chapter 14: The First Trade Voyage
Chapter 15: Ireland
Chapter 16: Nobility
Chapter 17: Making Connections
Chapter 18: Striking It Rich
Chapter 19: The White Slave Trade
Chapter 20: Amsterdam
Chapter 21: The Bank
Chapter 22: Grain
Chapter 23: Windmills

Chapter 24: Good Things Don’t Worry About Selling

Chapter 25: Visiting the Big Shot
Chapter 26: Journey to Scotland
Chapter 27: Scottish White Slaves
Chapter 28: The Return Journey
Chapter 29: Celebration Banquet
Chapter 30: The Oarsman
Chapter 31: Viking Raid
Chapter 32: Planting Potatoes
Chapter 33: The Expedition
Chapter 34: Crumbling Like Dry Wood
Chapter 35: Conquest
Chapter 36: Slaves
Chapter 37: Distribution of Slaves

Chapter 38: Wielding Firearms Makes You a God to the Indians

Chapter 39: The Great Waterfall City
Chapter 40: The Descent of the Heavenly God
Chapter 41: Divide and Conquer
Chapter 42: Faith

Chapter 43: Managing the Savages Requires Good Methods

Chapter 44: Triumphant Return by Land and Sea

Chapter 45: Hrut City

Chapter 46: The Formation of a Thousand-Strong Legion

Chapter 47: The Frenchman’s Movements
Chapter 48: The French Motive
Chapter 49: The Cannons Roar
Chapter 50: Victory
Chapter 51: Haldor Unites Vinland

Chapter 52: The Establishment of the Viking Raid System (Part 1)

Chapter 53: The Establishment of the Viking Raid System (Part 2)

Chapter 54: Bountiful Potato Harvest, Impressive Yields

Chapter 55: Champlain’s Reaction

Chapter 56: The Reaction of the English Colonists

Chapter 57: The Heavenly God and the Loyal Hound

Chapter 58: The Messenger

Chapter 59: A Tripartite Balance is True Stability

Chapter 60: Do You Want to Go Home?
Chapter 61: Christmas
Chapter 62: Spring Blossoms
Chapter 63: The First Viking Raid Expedition
Chapter 64: Journey to Europe