Galron stood on the terrace, fully donned in armor, its metallic surface pitted and scarred from countless battles, with gaps revealing fur that fluttered in the breeze.
The Viking nations were in a state of transition, where ancient beliefs no longer held glory, and only steel and gunpowder ruled the future. Galron painted his war makeup, donned a horned helmet, muttering prayers to Odin, while grasping a firearm from Ingwig.
He gazed out at the sea of Ice Bay, where the ironclad ship from Ingwig silently anchored, resembling the mythical Nagilfah, bringing calamity from afar. Now, it cast flames upon Ice Bay, and soon would delve into the Silent Sea, heading towards the abode of the gods.
Just as the myths foretold, heralding the twilight of the gods.
In an instant, Galron felt he was transported back ten years, to a time when another ironclad ship from Ingwig also ventured into the Silent Sea, never to return.
