The Divine Hunter

Chapter 534: Morkvarg

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

The northern coast was draped in a silver layer of moonlight, and the sailor on the drakkar hurled the anchor over the hull.

Waves crashed on the sides of the drakkar, and chains rattled as the boats hanging from the sides of the drakkar fell into the waters.

A group of Skelligers in colored and assorted armor quietly rowed the boats, hedging toward the nearby coast. These men were equipped with an assortment of weapons and shields.

One towering, burly man stood on the bow of the boat, a star-shaped tattoo inked on his muscular arms. His nose was big, his lips were thin, and his mustache was short. He had a black metal helm, and his dark eyes stared at the shining Hindarsfjall, a sneer curling his lips.

“Ya sure we should be lootin’ Freya’s temple, cap’n?” Morkvarg’s second-in-command, a man with a mustache, said worriedly. “Most of our sailors pray to ‘er before they sail. This blasphemy will not go unpunished.”

The men rowing the boats nodded.

“Scared, are ye, Einer?” the burly man asked shrilly, his voice cutting through the cold air. “Ain’t nuthin’ like Freya exists. Have ye even seen ‘er before? Betcha not even her most pious believers have seen the goddess showin’ up before. Gods are nuthin’ but lies and jokes made to fool the gullible. I, the great Morkvarg, and my men ain’t scared of those lies.

“We are known. We are infamous. Even the ships of Novigrad, Lan Exeter, and Nilfgaard fell to us.” Morkvarg looked at his crew sharply, and everyone looked up at him. “We do every evil there is under the sun. Killin’ soldiers, women, children, and the elderly. We ain’t scared of nuthin’! All of Skellige knows Morkvarg’s the most brazen pirate of ’em all!”

Morkvarg’s roars were drowning out the crashing sounds of the waves. “Aye, but those scallywags have sumthin’ bad to say ’bout us. Said we ain’t scared of nuthin’ but the gods made up by the people who are long dead. Said we’d run away in fear when we see ‘er priests. I’ve had enough o’ those insults. Tonight, we’ll show them we’re fearless. Tonight we’ll shows them they’re wrong! We’ll loot the temple of Freya!”

Morkvarg stood atop the bow, slamming his sword into his shield. “An’ I shall drink the blood of the priests and the believers! An’ I shall do sumthin’ that’s never been done before! We shall topple the statue those fools pray to an’ piss on it! Not even the king or the seven clans have dunnit! After tonight, we shall be Skellige’s most wanted!”

The moon shone on the boats, and the seas saw quite a few pirates that were red with excitement, yet quite a few looked hesitant.

***

It was a silent night, and the boats were slowly approaching the coast. A group of more than thirty pirates had landed on Hindarsfjall’s no man’s land, quietly advancing toward the temple in the center of the isle.

A small team went to the south, keeping Dona an Cinda from sending his troops in to fend them off.

***

While the pirates were advancing toward the temple, it was still standing quietly. Even in the night, dim lights shone within the temple. A row of candles lent their sacred light to the silent and spacious great hall, illuminating its simple carpet, golden curtains, and crimson pillars.

The moonlight that shone from the skylight rained down on thin, white-robed Uva, caressing her gently. She knelt before the marble altar, her hands put together in a prayer as she silently meditated and prayed to the goddess. A golden light shimmered around her.

Before her stood the statues of the sacred cat and falcon. Atop them was a stone dais with shells made of stone. It was something made for the believers who gave thanks to their granted witches. Upon the stone dais stood the goddess Freya, the Great Mother.

She had a maternal light surrounding her, her robes billowing in the air, and she had a baby bump. Freya was staring down, her face covered by a piece of cloth, and her hands were clasped before her chest. A golden necklace hung around her neck, a blue diamond cut in the shape of a rose embedded in its center.

Uva opened her eyes, feeling something. She then turned to the Cat that sees and hears secrets and the Falcon that watches from far above. And something unfurled before her very eyes. A group of muscular evildoers stood in a long line, holding torches up in the air, and they were charging through the bushes. The man in the lead was strong and powerful, and he had a sneer on his face.

The group disappeared into the woods.

A hint of panic filled the priestess’ face, and she turned to the goddess’ statue. What was a holy and inviolable statue a moment ago was lit with crimson light.

“Might this be your warning?”

Uva then saw the stone-cold eyes blinking at her, pity welling within them, almost as if the statue were looking at her suffering child.

Change out of your robes and leave the temple. Quickly!

A voice spoke in Uva’s mind. Uva fell to her knees, clutching her chest, but she shook her head. “Your humble servant will not leave you unattended. I shall protect the temple for you.”

Uva stood up and quickly came to the priestesses’ rest area. “My children!” Her voice, amplified by the power of a goddess, reached the priestesses’ hearts. The priestesses exchanged a look and put on their robes as they got up. “Just a moment ago, Freya showed me a premonition. The temple shall be facing an assault soon. A group of blasphemous beasts wish to defile this temple, bringing it to the ground!”

“What?”

The priestesses found the news to be unbelievable, and shock filled their faces. They had no guards protecting this temple, for no one would be brazen enough to mount an attack on the temple. All the islanders respected Freya and saw her as their mother.

“Listen to me and leave, quickly. To the south. Tell Dona an Cinda to send his troops to the temple. Perhaps we can still make it!”

“What about you, Uva? Aren’t you leaving?” A young priestess with big eyes and brown hair stood up. “I wish to stay back and protect the temple as well.”

That was a signal, and the priestesses quickly stood around Uva. Even though they were young and inexperienced, they were ready to die as martyrs.

“This is a test of our faith. We are the priestesses of Freya!”

“We shall never turn our backs on the goddess!”

“We’ll stop the baddies together!”

“When they bathe in the light of the goddess and listen to her teachings, they will recognize their transgressions.”

“You silly girls.” Uva heaved a sigh and looked at everyone. The youngest of them were about twelve. Nothing but children. The oldest were only in their late twenties. Hindarsfjall was the center of the belief in Freya. They were priestesses-in-training, and they should’ve been going to the other isles after they graduated, taking up the posts of priestesses, herbalists, midwives, and teachers, but now…

“Very well. If you are unafraid of what is to come, then we shall protect this temple together. To the entrance.”

***

Lobster Inn was still brightly lit as usual, and the air was filled with thundering snores. A dozen Skelligers were sprawled on the ground around the bonfire, some even lying in the muck of their own vomit.

They were piled on top of one another like a flesh mountain of alcohol and fermented seafood. Krott and Eji were entangled in a hug, their faces mushed together.

Among these drunken islanders was a slender figure in brown leather armor lying on a table alone. His brows were black and thick, his nose was aquiline, his lips were perfectly thin, and his chin was perfectly sculpted.

The lad was sleeping soundly, but then he stirred, and a frown furrowed his brows.

Within the darkness came a hurried call. “Witcher! Child of the Elder Blood! To the temple, quickly!”

The witcher managed to open his eyes with difficulty and sat up on the table, massaging his drowsy head. He looked around, and a happy smile curled his lips.

The whole mess started out as a challenge. The Skelligers and the witcher were engaged in a drinking competition, and then everything careened out of control. The patrons started drinking like their lives depended on it, and then everyone got drunk.

The mead was great, but the consequences were not. The witcher let himself go and didn’t cheat in the competition. He drank as much booze in one night as he would in a year, and it cleared up the clouds in his heart.

Thanks to his high Constitution, the effects of the alcohol subsided quickly. He got up and looked out the window. The moon was hanging high in the sky, and silence covered this land in its embrace.

Even so, something unsettled the witcher. Who’s the one that called me? And why to the temple? He looked at the drunken men around him. And why me?

The witcher stretched his arms and strapped Aerondight to his back. Driven by curiosity and the push from the Elder Blood, Roy decided to check things out at the temple.

***

Balls of firelight passed through the woods of Dona an Cinda, and rustling footsteps surrounded the temple of Freya. Light of the flames glinted off metal, and the owl near the entrance to the temple flew high into the skies, circling the temple and hooting in panic.

All thirty-five priestesses ignored that. They stood before the entrance like a wall of human flesh. Some were nervous, some were scared, and some were resolute. They clenched their fists, their eyes darting around. They were white as bone, and the girls gulped in fear.

Some were even shivering, and they held hands with their sisters, attempting to comfort themselves. The priestesses muttered prayers under their breath, their nervous countenance a stark contrast to the high priestess standing in the center.

The nefarious Morkvarg led his team of snarling, scowling men up the staircase covered by mistletoe, coming face to face with the priestesses at the entrance.

The pirates looked at them and froze. What? What’s with the priestesses standing here?

“Halt, intruder!” Uva shouted, her shrill voice lashing out at the air of the night, and the heads of the intruders buzzed. They stopped in their tracks. “Weapons are prohibited in the halls of the great Freya. If you wish to pray, then throw your weapons to the ground beside the stairs. That is basic respect to the goddess.”

Uva did not have any fear in her eyes. She stood up straight, her eyes flaring brighter than any torch, and the pirates exchanged looks.

As if he’d just heard the most hilarious joke, Morkvarg burst into laughter, revealing his yellowing, rotting teeth. “An’ what are ye standin’ at the entrance for on this beau’iful night, lovely priestesses? Shouldn’t ye be sleepin’? Or are ye tryin’ to seduce some poor sod in the village?”

“Silence, you blasphemer!” A grey-haired girl with a ponytail stood forward and pointed at Morkvarg. Shrilly, she accused, “How dare you speak of something so vulgar in the face of the goddess’ temple?”

“Name’s Morkvarg. Be good if ye remember that name. ‘Tis the name the whole Skellige will talk abou. The pioneer of destroying foolishness and superstitions. The most courageous man of Skellige!”

Morkvarg swung his sword and shook his head in contempt. “An’ ye can stop with ‘at stunt. If ye goddess does exist, tell ‘er to show ‘erself. Tell her to show ‘er power. Shower us with ‘er teachin’ an’ stop us from what we’re about to do, or else…”

Morkvarg harrumphed. “Shut up an’ take your clothes off. Spread yer legs. I’ll let ye die happy. Judgin’ from yer looks and really straight legs, ye must be virgins, all of ye. Betcha never had a taste o’ men. My brothers and I are very happy to help.”

Furious and fearful, the priestesses were as red as blood. Uva, however, was still unfazed. She looked at the invaders, and then with conviction as hard as steel, she said, “Put that brain of yours to work and think why we’re here late at night. The goddess has shown us the destruction that shall befall you for this action.”

She looked at the sailors, and the men hung their heads low in respect, as if they had just been scalded by holy light.

“But the goddess is merciful. She knows that you are but blinded by your greed.” A hint of warmth seeped into her voice. “And she is willing to grant you a chance to repent. Put down your weapons and enter the temple. Pray for her forgiveness, and she shall grant you mercy. She shall give you her blessings, and your ships shall sail through the high seas with nothing to stop you.”

Einer and some of the pirates were tempted. They would pray to Freya every time they went on a looting spree. Not once did they imagine they would be blaspheming against the goddess.

Uva put her hands in a prayer and closed her eyes, then she hung her head low. There was no prayer or incantation, but then a blinding ray of golden light shone on the stairs. It flowed out of Uva and draped itself over one of the pirates. It was a man with a bandage over his face.

The man gasped and scratched his face, taking off his bandage in the process.

His companions then exclaimed.

“Oy, ye got slashed a coupla days ago, didn’t ye? Yer wound’s already healin’.”

The light from the flames was shining upon the pirate. A long scar that extended from his left eye to his upper lip was already starting to heal.

The pirates were all astonished. As regular people who didn’t belong to any of the seven clans, the healing prowess of Freya’s priestesses was nothing but a rumor to them. They didn’t have the chance or privilege to witness a priestess’ healing powers up close. If they were hurt, they only had bandages and crushed herbs to heal themselves.

Part of the pirates were starting to waver, slowly letting go of their weapons.

“Silence, ye wench! Do not fool the sailors! Hindarsfjall be the source of the religion of Freya, an’ ye supposed to be her high priestess, but healin’s all ye can do?” Morkvarg sneered and slowly looked at the priestesses. “This ain’t divine grace. If Freya’s real, then tell ‘er to smite me with sum lightnin’. Turn me into ash. Can she even do that?”

Uva took a step closer to the snarling pirates. “Freya is the Great Mother of all Skelligers. Unless push comes to shove, she will never hurt her own children. She would prefer to shower you with love and protection. That is why I used the healing arts. However, if you stubbornly continue on your quest to blaspheme the goddess…”

Her voice was thunderous, her eyes flaring with golden light. “Then I have a warning for you. Your journey shall be filled with storms and hidden reefs. Your drakkars will be haunted by the spirits, and you shall be drenched in blood and sin. You shall live days of loneliness and disease, and—”

Morkvarg darted ahead and thrust his longsword into the priestess’ belly. He then held her up high like she was a cooked lobster on a stick. Uva grunted, blood spurting from her wound and drenching her robes, spllatering all across the wall. She curled up, her eyes bulging.

Morkvarg cackled. “Look ‘ere, lads. The so-called priestess of the goddess! All their… magic, belief, and creed are nuthin’ but pathetic jokes. I gave ‘er a chance. Let ‘er spout rubbish as much as she wanted, but what happened? Nuthin’. The only thing reliable is our sword. Pathetic Freya. Can’t even shield her believer from one puny attack.”

Morkvarg put on a cold, cruel smile, the light of the flames projecting his shadow onto the temple walls, and it flickered like a phantom. “If she is a goddess, then I shall slaughter a god tonight! Kill them!”

“Charge!” Excited by the prospect of blood, the pirates felt brash bravado swelling within them. They whipped out their weapons and pounced at the poor priestesses, raring to tear them apart.

Some of the girls were petrified in shock, and a pirate took one on his shoulder, taking her to the nearest bed.

Some fell to their knees, praying to the goddess. The pirates slashed those down, drenching their robes with crimson blood.

Some were scared out of their wits from the bloodshed, and they ran into the temple’s garden, screaming and hollering. The pirates sneered and followed them, playing a game of cat and mouse.

Morkvarg swung his blade down and stepped on Uva’s belly, staring at the priestess.

She was coughing up blood, and with a trembling finger, she pointed at Morkvarg, speaking in a whisper so silent, it was almost inaudible.

“Freya… the Great Mother… She hath decreed… A protector… You are cursed… The blasphemers shall… live their lives… as beasts… Forever…”

The legendary pirate laughed the curse off and slit her throat, ending the priestess’ life.

A few of the pirates remained behind Morkvarg, refusing to attack. One of them was Einer. They gave the high priestess’ corpse a look of pity and turned to their captain. A struggle took place in their souls, and they silently touched the wolf fang necklace under their brigandine.

“What are ye waitin’ for, lads? Charge! Destroy this temple!”