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5.88% Reclaim Glory / Chapter 2: Ragnar

章節 2: Ragnar

Ragnar's guttural roar tore through the morning silence of the village. A sudden look of confusion came across his features as he scanned the small hearth of his wooden room.

"What is this folly? Have I not died?" After close inspection, it would seem that he hadn't been ripped to shreds by the explosion but was instead lying on a hard straw bed.

His mother, Helga, came running in through the door with tears of joy streaming down her face, a lady coming on in her years but still mighty pretty. Her lovely Norman ice blue eyes complemented the long blonde hair that reached her butt.

"Oh Ragnar, my dear boy. I'm so glad the fever has broken. Sweating sickness has taken hold of the village and has just started to clear up. They weren't sure you would survive the night." She gushed as she hugged him. "I knew you would hold strong, my boy, they told me not to be next to you, so I had to be tortured from afar the entire day."

Ragnar looked at this weirdly dressed heathen and nearly shoved her away before he realized that he had two sets of memories in his brain. One was Ragnar Sigvald, part of a decorated warrior family sworn into service for the Baron of Le Havre. Currently, 19 years of age in this body of his.

The second was of Nathan Algren, a military officer who had disgracefully failed a search and rescue mission and was killed in the ensuing explosion. Ragnar was truly amazed by the powers of God. Had he received a new life? Just what was going on?

Before he could further deduce the situation, he heard the groan of wood under heavy thumps coming towards his room. The door was pushed open, and through it came a solid blonde mass of muscle standing close to 6' 5" with a snickering expression that stretched the long scar that ran down the right side of his face.

"Looks like my shite little brother managed to survive this infection that's out killing all the peasants. Shame, I wanted to be the sole inheritor of our family glory."

He continued to drivel on about how only the strong would survive and that we were a family destined for greatness.

Ragnar sat back to think about the situation further as the memories of his life before this came flooding into his head. This world was an Alternate Earth, set in the Early Medieval Period. Their father was the marshal of the Barony of Le Havre, a port town in the Duchy of Normandy. Though many events were still historically accurate to what he remembered, there were still differences that had impacted the current events.

In this timeline, the Duke of Normandy - William, the Bastard, hadn't managed to secure rule over his territory. Especially with the scheming of King Henry of France, the rule of Duke William over his subjects was shaky at best. The English throne was being coveted by many, and William didn't have the security to ensure his place on the English throne.

King Henry was also facing issues with Middle and East Francia. Constant warring had placed the state in jeopardy. Also, according to the history books, Rollo and his band of warriors were to be converted to Catholicism before inheriting the Duchy of Normandy. But due to lack of power, Charles the Simple couldn't enforce such a rule leading to them being heretics on French soil following Norse. The religion of traditional Vikings and branded as Norse paganism by the Catholics and other monotheistic religions. Over time, this slight detail led to further issues in the French court, which has caused the current situation.

There were just too many changes for Ragnar to name off the top of his head. If he wanted to know about the power structure, he would have to ask his father or research this further in his spare time.

The headache caused by the merger of both memories caused an ensuing headache that worried his mother. She immediately turned towards his elder brother, Thorkell.

"Thorkell, go fetch us a physician, would you?"

"Bah, useless brother, wasting our precious coin" Thorkell turned around and lumbered out of their modest home.

A shiver went down his spine as he wondered how absolute dog shit the current physicians would be. It's not like it was even semi-modern. These were early medieval doctors. Trained in the art of observation. All they could do was hold experiments and see what would work. With a chagrined expression on his face, Ragnar was left alongside this stranger to contemplate what life would be like shortly. His desire to reclaim glory through battle was ever-increasing.

"Leave me, mother, I wish to be alone for a moment." He ordered his mother out the door, collecting his thoughts while pondering his next steps of action.

"Well, I'll get you some warm stew then, eh, Ragnar?" Helga walked out the door after Ragnar nodded in approval, questioning what had happened to her son.

He would like to figure out more about the world he was in as it didn't look like a straight replica of history.

A forlon expression came across his face as he thought about his friends and family that had been left behind in the previous world, before the expression turned to one of rage.

"I won't let what happened to me occur ever again. I'd rather die by the sword in battle than as an assassin in the middle of the night, trying to save God knows who from shit that they deserve" Ragnar clenched his fist in determination as he looked up to the ceiling in memory of his fallen brothers.

----

Quick note: The first official commission of RG is out. I'm requesting your help to make an official Anime-style Cover for Ragnar and the Sigvald family!

Head to my p atreon to show your support: www.p atreon.com/IronM (Link in Synopsis of book)

Discord is out for all RG supporters!! : https://discord.gg/tUq6etBmQx


創作者的想法
IronMike IronMike

With getting used to writing, I've come back to this chapter and found it a little lacking in flow. Hopefully it sounds better now:3

章節 3: Emerald Glare

The physician walked in about 10 minutes later, and to the grace of God, he found no issues with Ragnar.

"He's all good miss, make sure that he rests and rehydrates to make a full recovery. The worst has passed."

Ragnar wondered what these fools even did to come up with that conclusion. Truly a shame that modern medicine wasn't available. Nor a good bath. With their current wealth, all they'd be able to manage was a pitcher of water from the well to douse on himself. The thought of which wasn't very appealing.

Though Ragnar had these thoughts, he kept it to himself. There would be a time and place where he could develop his ideas without looking like an insane person.

As such, he hefted himself up after the physician left and nearly buckled under the weight of his own body. Ragnar flexed his wrists and palms, noting the rather large size of his appendages. He quickly loosened up while his mother, Helga ran up to help prop him up as they moved further into the living room.

"Watch yourself, my boy. Though the physician said you'll be all good, it doesn't mean you should be up and about right now.

Ragnar turned towards his mother and smiled in appreciation as he pushed her hands away and turned to face her.

He raised his arms to support her shoulder and rubbed her for comfort. He was grateful that he had a mother, someone who would warm this home and give it meaning. Something he never had in his previous life, a home. Though he had initally found her a stranger, the few moments he'd had to himself, allowed him to familiarize himself better with this world and the people close to him.

"Well, the day doesn't wait now, does it? I have to ensure that I get used to my body and…." He nearly let slip that this wasn't the same Ragnar that fell ill yesterday.

As he stopped himself, he realized that the entire time they'd been conversing in French. Though the Normans hadn't been converted to Catholicism this time around, most of them still assimilated using the French language. And though most still had knoweldge of Old Norse, this use was even more pronounced for members of ruling society.

Ragnar coughed to clear up the mistake.

"I'll be off, ma" Ragnar bolted out the house, to much of the annoyance of his mother.

His boots crunched down on the gravel as he walked further down the street. Ragnar grinned like a child as he gazed out into the town. Smoke billowing from the hearth of the houses in the distance.

Ragnar nodded in appreciation of their Barony as he looked around, noticing green pastures for miles.

Pulling in a deep breath of air. The familiar smell of dung from the Iraqi outbacks flooded Ragnar's nostrils. He grinned as he realized that he could quickly get familiar with this life.

A lone tree stood among his father's manor, and he sought it for support as he still got used to his body. Quickly walking over, he patted the large oak tree, before sitting down beside it and meditating on the spot.

Taking deep inhales and exhales, his large lungs allowed his blood to oxygenate and fire up his cells with life. After about 15 minutes, Ragnar opened his eyes as he felt his mind at ease, with a sharp gaze of concentration and vigor.

He stood, ready to set out on his journey. But, before he could explore the town and the manor at the top of the distant hill, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, set on spinning him around. Almost instinctively, his military training kicked in as he grabbed the wrist that dug into his shoulder and heaved, sending a thick blonde mass of solid muscle flying over his shoulder and slamming into the ground.

Ragnar quickly realized what he'd done when he saw the scar-faced scowl of his brother glaring at him from below.

"What the fuk are ye doing, Ragnar? You don't just toss people over your shoulder like that!" Thorkell grunted as he exploded upward to face him.

It was only at this moment that Ragnar realized that they were both at eye level of each other. He smirked in response to the wild eyes of Thorkell, getting ready to lay hands, as until now, he wasn't sure what the dynamic was between his brother and him. But, whatever it was, he sure as hell wasn't going to be one to apologize or explain himself. Over here, everything was about image. You either stake your claim or back down, forever branded a pussy.

Before they could defuse the tension from the corner of Ragnar's eyes, he noticed Thorkell's huge fist coming for his head. Quickly bringing his right palm up and into the bend of the inside of Thorkell's elbow, Ragnar managed to break the momentum of the punch while using his free hand to pivot and throw a hook simultaneously. He watched on as Thorkell managed to catch his fist and slow it down, much to his surprise.

The fight slowed for a second as spit slithered down Thorkell's lips, and a low growl erupted from his lips.

Ragnar fought for supremacy, but his battle was a losing one. Still weakened by the sickness, his arms were burning as he struggled to hold his brother back.

A sly grin broke across Thorkell's face, causing him to erupt into laughter.

"I never knew that you were so raucous, Ragnar? Looks like whatever sickness you'd gotten has done you some good. This is the brother I need on the battlefield. Someone I can trust with my back!"

Thorkell moved closer, just an inch away from Ragnar's ear and sneered.

"If you ever do that again, though. I'll put you in your place, Ragnar. You are my younger brother, after all."

Ragnar continued to stare into his brother's eyes. It looked like his brother had some form of rivalry with him.

Thorkell, noticing the cold gaze that returned from Ragnar's emerald eyes, pulled back to cover up the sudden fear he felt, almost like he was being hunted.

Thorkell laughed as sweat started to break on his forehead. "Well, the reason I was here in the first place was to tell you that Da has called. We're summoned to the lord's manor."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

How was the fight? I will try to choreograph more, but they do take a very long time to write down.

Support me to keep this novel free for all, I have early access to all my drafts and other cool features here: https://tinyurl.com/mvbstmez

Discord is out for all RG supporters!! : https://discord.gg/tUq6etBmQx


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