An Unexpected Arrival
As more guests continued to arrive—many of whom I had never seen nor even heard of—the hall grew louder with intrigue and speculation.
"Wingmaiden?" Gobber bellowed out, his voice tinged with confusion.
My gaze sharpened as a tall, regal woman stepped forward, draped in flowing robes of silver and sea-blue.
"I am Atali," she said, her voice strong yet elegant. "Leader of the Wingmaidens. And today, I present a gift forged from tradition and devotion—armor crafted from the scales of Razorwhips."
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. Razorwhips… I'd heard the name, but I had never seen one.
Then something moved behind her.
My eyes narrowed as a small creature peeked out—a baby dragon, shimmering in the light with razor-thin wings folded tightly against its sleek frame. It stepped forward shyly, glancing at the crowd.
"This is a baby Razorwhip," Atali explained, her voice softening. "For generations uncounted, we Wingmaidens have raised them until they're ready to return to the skies. It is our sacred duty."
Before I could respond, a voice tugged at my attention.
"Daddy!" Moon piped up beside me, wide-eyed and nearly bouncing in place. "It looks so cute! Can I get one?"
I sighed gently, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Moon… that's not my call to make," I said with a smile. "You'll have to ask Lady Atali later."
Moon pouted slightly but nodded, eyes still glued to the baby dragon.
I turned back to Atali and gave a nod of gratitude, offering a warm smile. She returned it with grace, then stepped back to her seat.
"Defenders of the Wing!" Gobber called next.
A poised woman with blonde hair and confident eyes stepped forward. She carried herself like someone born to lead.
"I am Mala," she announced. "Leader of the Defenders of the Wing. Our offering is one of our island's rarest treasures—Eruptodon ore, found only deep within the molten caverns beneath our sacred mountain. It is heat-resistant, dense, and imbued with the strength of the earth itself."
Not bad, I thought. It might make excellent armor or perhaps a core for something more... experimental.
I gave her a respectful nod.
Then Gobber called again, his voice louder, wary. "Dragon Hunters."
Tension rippled through the hall.
Two figures stepped forward—lean, dangerous, and far too confident.
"I am Viggo Grimborn," the shorter one said smoothly, "and this is my brother, Ryker." He gestured to the burly man beside him. "For this occasion, we've brought a prize as well—one equal to Alvin's. A dragon."
They stepped aside as two of their men wheeled in a sleek, white dragon inside a Gronckle iron cage.
"We call her the Light Fury," Viggo said, a predatory smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "We found her on an uncharted island while seeking treasures for this gathering. Imagine our surprise when we discovered this rare beauty."
The Light Fury stood perfectly still inside the cage, her bright blue eyes scanning the hall. Her gaze wasn't wild or frightened—it was intelligent. Calculating.
Then I noticed something else.
Toothless was staring at her, his pupils wide and unblinking. Mesmerized.
I followed his gaze and studied her more closely. She wasn't like the other dragons. There was something different in her stare, something... knowing.
"Release her," I commanded, my tone sharp but calm.
Viggo raised an eyebrow, but nodded. The guards hesitated, then slowly unlatched the cage. The Light Fury stepped out with fluid grace. She didn't snarl or attack—she simply looked around cautiously, her muscles tense but not aggressive.
"Toothless," I said, without breaking eye contact with the dragon, "show her around."
He looked at me, then back at her, and with a low chirp, padded forward.
They began to speak—dragon tongue, filled with clicks, growls, and soft warbles. I could understand it, of course, but I chose to tune it out. This was their moment, not mine.
As the two dragons left the hall together, tails brushing, I turned back to Viggo and Ryker. I nodded once. They returned it with feigned civility, masking whatever thoughts were brewing behind their eyes.
The hall remained quiet, awed by the silent display of power and trust.
I leaned back slightly in my seat, Moon curled beside me, Merida's hand resting gently on mine.
The Northern Alliance
"The Northern Alliance!" Gobber bellowed, his voice hoarse from the countless names he'd already called.
The name sent a ripple through the hall. I saw shoulders tense, eyes narrow. Even my father's expression hardened. I sat up straighter in my seat, all playfulness gone.
From the entrance, a towering figure approached. His aura was heavy—not chaotic, but... dangerous. Not like a beast, but a man used to taming them.
"I am Drago Bludvist," he growled. "And I bring no gift. Only a proposition."
The hall erupted into whispers. Tension bloomed like a firestorm. I raised a hand.
Silence.
"Speak," I commanded.
Drago smirked. "I intend to conquer the world—with dragons. And with your power, your beasts, and your command over them, it is possible. So I offer you a place in my vision."
Another wave of murmuring began. I raised my hand again, and silence obeyed.
I stood.
"I do not want war," I said, voice cold as the northern winds. "And I will not help you wage one."
"I'm not giving you a choice!" Drago shouted, raising his spear and twirling it violently. His armored dragons growled behind him, their eyes flaring.
Before he could give a command, I let go.
I released my full Dragon Presence—a force of will older than the mountains, deeper than the sea.
"Stop." My voice thundered through the stone hall like a storm.
The dragons froze in place.
"Kneel."
A pause—then the sound of scales scraping against stone as the armored dragons bowed one by one. The hall fell into another silence.
Drago's expression shattered. I vanished and reappeared in front of him, my fist already moving.
CRACK.
His body flew like a ragdoll, crashing through the grand doors and tumbling into the village square beyond.
The hall erupted into gasps. I strode after him, the others trailing behind me, unsure whether to follow or pray.
Outside, Drago had already risen, battered but defiant. He raised his spear high and roared into the sea.
I frowned. What now—?
The ocean churned violently. The waves parted—and something immense, something ancient, rose from the depths.
My breath caught.
A dragon, titanic in size, surfaced. Larger than anything I'd ever seen—an ice-breathing leviathan.
The Bewilderbeast.
It let out a haunting roar and unleashed a stream of frost that turned the bay into a frozen glacier in seconds.
Drago laughed, thinking I was afraid.
I wasn't.
I was furious.
So furious my body couldn't contain it.
I doubled over, bones cracking, muscles tearing as I began to shift. Scales erupted from my skin, my jaw lengthened into a snout. My limbs grew, my roar deepened.
When it was done, I stood—nearly three-quarters the size of the Bewilderbeast. Ancient power pulsed through my veins.
Drago's laughter died.
I leapt forward, my fist slamming into the dragon's skull with enough force to send a shockwave across the water. Ice cracked. Waves surged. The Bewilderbeast howled.
But it didn't retreat.
Even after another devastating blow, it fought on.
Something was wrong.
I paused and spoke in dragon tongue.
"Why do you keep fighting?"
The Bewilderbeast hesitated. "Father says I must. I must become king of dragons. I must help him conquer the world."
"But is that what you want?" I asked.
It was silent.
"I—I don't know… if I disobey, he'll punish me. I must fight."
"No. You don't. You're stronger than him. Stronger than fear. Why listen to a man who would chain you like a weapon?"
"He raised me… he's my father…"
"No. He's not. A real father doesn't use their child like a tool."
The Bewilderbeast was quiet for a long moment. Then it lowered its massive head and said, "I will return to the sea. We will speak again."
I nodded, breathing heavily. The beast vanished beneath the water, leaving silence behind.
My body shrank as I returned to human form, every bone aching. But before I could rest—
A scream.
I sprinted back to the hall. My heart dropped.
Drago was inside.
And he had Merida.
One arm wrapped around her throat, the other holding a blood-stained spear.
A villager whispered, "We—we were all watching your fight… he snuck back in."
Drago's face twisted with madness. "Tell your dragons to obey me," he shouted. "Or she dies!"
I raised my hand, veins bulging, and signaled the armored dragons.
They stepped forward.
"Come here!" Drago barked at me.
"Release her," I said, voice cold as death.
"Like hell! I'll drop her at the cliffs—maybe you'll get to her before the rocks do."
I clenched my fists. "You're pushing your luck—"
But before I could finish, Merida acted.
With a cry, she twisted and gouged at Drago's eyes with her fingers.
He screamed in pain. She broke free.
Time slowed.
His hand whipped back—and hurled the spear.
I reached out, mouth open, but I was too slow.
The weapon struck her.
Right through the back, just above the waist.
She fell.
I stared at her.
Everything went quiet. The world blurred.
"W-why again…" I whispered, stumbling forward, each step heavier than the last.
Drago laughed—laughed.
I looked at him. Then back at Merida. Her body was still.
The hall watched in frozen silence.
And then the fire hit me.
Rage.
Hot, blinding, pure. It wasn't anger. It was grief set aflame. It was every loss I'd suffered, every wound I'd buried.
I clutched my chest, falling to one knee. My breath came in growls.
Pain wracked my body, not from wounds—but from the storm inside.
And then… my mind snapped.
My eyes went blank. My heart roared louder than any beast.
Tears fell.
And I screamed.
Berserk
ERROR ERROR BERSERK HAS BEEN AUTOMATICALLY ACTIVATED
Stoick's POV
I stood there—paralyzed—watching as the princess fell lifeless to the ground. My heart clenched, not only for her, but for my son. My boy just lived the same pain I once did…
Before I could act, Erik let out a roar—one that shook the very air itself.
Then I saw her.
Moon, his daughter, sprinting toward me. Her silver hair trailed behind her like a comet.
"Grandpa, run! Daddy's in that state again!" she screamed.
Heads turned. Confusion, then dread bloomed across the faces of those gathered.
Crack—BOOM!
The ground split apart with a deafening noise. Erik blurred forward—nothing more than a white streak of fury—as he charged Drago. The sheer force of his movement shattered the stone beneath him.
The armored dragons, sensing the danger, immediately turned tail and fled, abandoning Drago without hesitation.
Cowards.
Erik didn't stop. He collided with Drago like a falling star. The man's body was slammed into the ground, embedded in broken stone—alive, but barely.
I looked at my son.
He was crying.
But he was smiling—a terrifying, twisted grin that didn't belong on his face.
He reached down, grabbed Drago's only arm, and began twisting it—slowly. Deliberately. Bones snapped like dry wood.
"Everyone!" Moon shouted urgently. "We have to leave now! When Daddy's like this, he attacks everything!"
Silence. Then panic.
The leaders and tribesmen all turned and ran. The Bear King, face carved in grief, scooped up the broken body of his daughter and followed.
We fled from the hall to the docks. Ships were quickly boarded, and those without space took to the skies on dragonback. The Grimborn ship, the largest, took on most of the evacuees.
When we had sailed at least a mile from Berk's harbor, a roar split the sea and sky.
It wasn't just loud. It was ancient—as if the world itself cried out in rage.
No one spoke for a while. Fear had silenced even the boldest voices.
Eventually, we anchored far enough out, and everyone regrouped aboard the Grimborn vessel.
In the center stood Moon—small, but composed. She was surrounded by chieftains, warriors, and dragon riders alike. Her presence alone held their attention.
One of the tribal leaders stepped forward. "What happened to Erik?"
Moon inhaled deeply, folding her hands before speaking. "I… I don't fully know. I've only seen Daddy like this a few times. But when it happens… he loses control. It's like he's angry at everything—and he doesn't stop. He'll destroy whatever's near. Even me."
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
She looked down. "I was lucky I escaped the last time."
"When did this start?" I asked, my voice grave.
She turned to me, her expression unreadable.
"I think… after the first hundred years."
That got everyone's attention.
"Wait. A hundred years?" someone blurted. "How? He's not even—he doesn't look—"
Moon raised a hand. "Daddy was trapped in another realm. Time works differently there. One thousand years in that place is only a year here."
The hall murmured again, some shaking their heads in disbelief.
"Why didn't he leave sooner?" another voice demanded.
"Because no one who entered was allowed to leave… not unless they defeated all five Beast Kings who ruled that realm. Each one stronger than the last."
"Beast Kings?" Viggo asked, stepping closer, eyes narrowing. "Who are they? What are they?"
Moon's voice lowered as she spoke the names:
"Fenrir – King of Wolves Titan – King of Tigers Pride – King of Lions Pyra – Queen of Phoenixes Balerion – King of Dragons"
The last name sent a shiver down my spine.
"The last time I saw that realm," Moon said softly, "it was scorched. Ash and fire covered everything. Daddy was the only one left standing. He destroyed them all."
She paused.
"He spared the realm itself only because it made him a deal."
"And what deal was that?" Viggo asked carefully.
Moon straightened proudly, puffing out her chest. "Me."
She pointed to herself, smiling slightly.
The silence that followed was stunned.
I stared at her. She was the price… or the gift?
Before anyone could speak again, a second roar echoed across the sea—closer this time.
Moon's expression turned serious. "We need to plan. Fast."
Erik's POV
I soared over the sea, still lost in the haze of fury and grief, searching—desperate—for something else to destroy.
That's when I saw them.
Ships on the horizon, scattered like prey. I roared and surged toward them, rage flaring in my chest. I locked onto the largest vessel—its hull bristling with spikes and steel—and dove with violent intent.
But just as I was about to crash into it, I saw her.
Merida.
She was lying on the deck, wrapped in silence.
I beat my wings hard, halting midair. The wrath drained from my limbs as confusion and dread took its place. I descended slowly, shifting back into my human form as I touched the deck.
My legs gave way beneath me, and I fell to my knees beside her.
She looked so peaceful. As if she were only sleeping. My hand reached out and gently caressed her cheek. It was cold.
Too cold.
I couldn't stop the tears that followed. They fell freely, mixing with the sea breeze and silence.
Then I heard it.
Host, there is a way. A chance to revive Merida using a skill.
My breath hitched. My eyes flicked to the glowing screen that appeared before me.
"What skill?" I asked, clinging to hope like a drowning man.
Revival. But it costs 100 million system points to purchase.
My heart sank. "How long would it take to reach that?" I asked, voice trembling.
With your current path, over a dozen years. However, by changing your course, the time could be drastically reduced.
I clenched my fists. "What path?"
The Path of Conquest. Subjugating kingdoms is considered a Legendary achievement. Entire continents or archipelagos are Mythical achievements—each worth ten million points.
I hesitated. "…How many do I have now?"
34 million.
I stood slowly, eyes burning with purpose.
"Tell everyone to gather in the village hall. I have an announcement to make."
Without waiting, I cradled Merida in my arms. Wings of silver and crimson burst from my back, and I rose into the skies, flying back to Berk.
The OathThree hours later...
The hall was filled with silence. Eyes from every tribe, every corner of the archipelago, were locked on me. My father stood in the crowd, solemn, silent. The air was heavy with expectation.
I stood at the center, still holding her memory in my arms and in my heart.
"My name is Erik Horrendous Haddock," I began, my voice steady, yet cold. "I've spent my life fighting—training, preparing, enduring. I've walked through fire and hell to reach this strength. And now, I have it. I have the power to protect what I hold dear."
I looked down, then around.
"I wanted a simple life. A peaceful one. With her."
The room remained still.
"But this world... refuses to let me have it. Again and again, it takes. I thought it was because I was too weak... that I hadn't yet earned the right to be happy."
A storm of aura rippled from me. Everyone flinched. Even the dragons.
"But I was wrong. I am not weak. I have become stronger than anyone in the archipelago. I've reached the point where no one here can match me. So why… why is it still not enough?"
I let the silence hang. Let it smother them.
Then I spoke again.
"I understand now. It's not because I'm unworthy. It's because of them. Those outside these islands. The ones who look in with fear, who don't understand power because they've never faced it. They think they can toy with fate, with lives, with mine."
I raised my voice, and it echoed like thunder.
"So I will show them. I will show them all."
I let the tension build. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.
"I, Erik Horrendous Haddock, swear upon my name—I will conquer this archipelago… no—this world. Kingdom by kingdom, nation by nation. Until there is no one left who dares defy me. Until the world understands the price of stealing my happiness."
Gasps rippled. Some faces went pale. Others dropped their gaze.
"You have a choice," I said, stepping forward. "Stand with me... or against me. But if you choose to stand in my way, know this—I will not spare you."
I raised a hand slowly.
"But I am not without mercy. If you wish to leave, if you wish to refuse me, you may try. All I ask is this—make me bleed. If you can land a single blow that draws blood… I'll let you walk away."
The room stayed deathly quiet.
One by one, they knelt.
First the chiefs. Then the warriors. Then the dragons bowed their heads. Even my father… slowly lowered himself, eyes closed in solemn understanding.
"Good," I said, voice low and final. "In one month, my conquest begins. Prepare yourselves."
The Army of Conquest
As I stepped out of the village hall, the wind whipping through my hair and the weight of my oath still lingering in the air, I spoke quietly:
"System, how many summoning tickets do I currently possess?"
Host, you have 12,300 summoning tickets available.
A grin tugged at my lips. "Summon one thousand of each combat class."
Acknowledged. Commencing mass summon...
A golden ripple of energy pulsed in the air in front of me. The ground trembled slightly as flashes of light burst across the clearing, and figures began to materialize—ranked soldiers, clad in ethereal armor, standing tall and silent as they awaited my command.
Summoning complete. The following units have been acquired: 999 Rank 1: Saber Class 999 Rank 1: Lancer Class 999 Rank 1: Caster Class 999 Rank 1: Rider Class 999 Rank 1: Archer Class 999 Rank 1: Assassin Class 999 Rank 1: Berserk Class
Bonus acquired: For every 1,000 summons per class, 1 Rank 3 unit is awarded. Additional units received: 1 Rank 3: Saber Class 1 Rank 3: Lancer Class 1 Rank 3: Caster Class 1 Rank 3: Rider Class 1 Rank 3: Archer Class 1 Rank 3: Assassin Class 1 Rank 3: Berserk Class
"Merge all Rank 1s into Rank 2s."
Confirmed. Merging units...
A sharp hum filled the air as the Rank 1 soldiers began to glow. Their forms shimmered, melding together into stronger, more refined versions of themselves. The newly evolved troops now radiated a more intense aura—still loyal, but vastly more powerful.
Merging complete. Current unit composition: 99 Rank 2: Saber Class 99 Rank 2: Lancer Class 99 Rank 2: Caster Class 99 Rank 2: Rider Class 99 Rank 2: Archer Class 99 Rank 2: Assassin Class 99 Rank 2: Berserk Class
Remaining Special Units: 1 Rank 1: Each Class 1 Rank 3: Each Class
Tickets Remaining: 5,300
One Hour Later
I stood at the cliff's edge overlooking the sea, watching the clouds twist in the sky as I pondered. The tide of war was rising. If I was to conquer the world and reclaim what fate had stolen, I would need fear. Not just strength—fear. A force that would shatter the will of nations.
The answer was clear.
"System," I said, eyes hard, "use 5,000 tickets to summon from the Caster Class exclusively."
Confirmed. Commencing high-tier summoning: 5,000 Rank 1 Casters summoned 5 Rank 3 Casters acquired as bonus
"Merge all into Rank 2 and then Rank 3 where possible."
Understood. Processing...
Golden sparks cascaded across the army field as one thousand after another fused into stronger beings. Arcane energy thickened in the air, suffocating and overwhelming. When the light faded, they stood there: an elite legion of arcane monsters.
Finalized Army Composition: 100 Rank 2 Units: Each Class 56 Rank 3 Casters 1 Rank 3: Saber, Lancer, Rider, Archer, Assassin, Berserk (excluding Caster, already represented) 1 Rank 1: Each Class (Retained for reserve or potential evolution)
Tickets Remaining: 300
They stood in formation now—my personal legion. An army unseen in the history of this world. Magic, blades, shadows, fury—all bent to my will.
I turned to face the horizon, where kingdoms lay blissfully unaware of the storm coming for them.
"This is only the beginning," I muttered.
With power like this at my back, the world wouldn't just remember my name.
They'd kneel to it.