CH-14

With a ton on his plate today, Rollo abruptly thought of his niece Gyda, to whom he had not given much thought up to this point. He had no intention of letting a plague-like disease kill her in this life.

'I seem to recall that she died when Siggy was no longer the Lady of Kattegat... According to the timeline, this occurred after Ragnar became Earl. After Lindisfarne, then…'

'I will not take the risk of waiting for that time, however. She died because she most likely had a weakened immune system and a weaker body overall. I'm busy these days, so I don't have time to train her to be stronger, and I can't use the methods I use with women with whom I have sexual affairs.'

'Because she is a child, the only way I can ensure her well-being right now is to offer prayers and sacrifices for her good health and endurance.'

Of course, as a reincarnated man, Rollo was not opposed to incest; he had no sexual taboos now that he was a new man. And, in this world, especially, there was no advanced society to judge him as there had been in the past. But he was not going to be a pedophile.

Right now, the girl, his own niece, was only about ten years old. He was obviously not going to use any of those more debauched, hedonistic methods to improve her health.

He liked loli, oppai loli hentai, and so on, but there was a distinction between masturbating to loli hentai and being a true pedo.

At least he was hoping there was, because it also happened to him to be attracted to very young women… He had never acted on those urges, though.

A man could not be blamed or judged for being tempted by things that his body and hormones found sexually appealing; only his actions could be used to determine who he was.

Being aroused wasn't a crime.

Though, men with small daughters would not understand or even attempt to understand this principle. While judging, they would fuck the daughters of other people.

They would live their secret sexual fantasies online or wait until young women were barely 18 and believe they were normal men... Hmm.

But on the real, there was very little difference between 17 and 18.

There were many fifteen-year-old women who appeared more mature than twenty-one-year-olds in the world Rollo was living in now.

He didn't want to pass judgment on anyone, and he was no longer in a place or position to do so.

He did not set any limits for himself or his future actions.

As long as he was not going to take advantage of babies who couldn't give consent, he felt fine and at peace in his head.

He had nothing to be ashamed of because he was going to do moral things far better than those who judged him for his good fortune.

The majority of those who passed harsh and merciless judgments were only afraid of the law and the police.

They were not actually good people at heart.

Put in a situation where they could do whatever they wanted, such as a zombie apocalypse, 99 percent of them would reveal their true dark natures.

People with families and daughters who listened to such pretenders and thought they were good people would be in for a rude awakening if a zombie apocalypse actually occurred.

'Anyway, in this world, girls marry adult men at the age of 12 and bear children. It was the same in my previous life, in older times.'

Rollo thought as he and Iorund finally arrived at an open field.

It was quiet and peaceful. 

Not a public place where men appeared to practice the arts of war in groups, prompting Rollo to inquire, 

"You want us to spar here? Where is the equipment?"

He could not see anywhere to get hardwood practice-swords or swords in general.

It was an emerald wilderness, an untamed area with a few trees and very tiny hills.

The sounds of herded animals, livestock, could be heard in the distance all around, suggesting that this was a farming area.

He also heard the sound of flowing water not far away, hinting that there was a riverbank or stream nearby.

The murmur of the waterway was in Rollo's head as Iorund reassured and explained, 

"I've used this location to train with my sister since she and I were children. We hide practice swords in the middle of that patch of trees."

"Oh…"

Rollo understood and said nothing, waiting for the young man to walk to the precise spot he pointed to and take some wooden swords.

As he handed him one, which was slightly humid, he asked, 

"Have you ever wielded a sword before? I have real swords hidden elsewhere, so I'm asking..."

Rollo cleaned and dried the equipment's handle with his clothes before responding, 

"Yes, I am familiar with weapons. This will suffice, however. It's just a spar, after all. We do not want anyone to be seriously hurt. Using real swords will limit our ability to convey real skill in those respects."

Iorund nodded and said, 

"Fine, then, let's get started. The agreement remains in effect. If I don't think you're good enough, you'll stay away from Ingrid."

Rollo didn't feel very flattered.

Feeling underestimated too early, he said, 

"You seem to think that my defeat is a matter of course?"

The young man next to him was only looking to see if he had enough skill. 

He didn't care if Rollo lost.

As if it was something guaranteed already.

He appeared to be very confident in his sword skills, which piqued Rollo's interest.

If he had not been intrigued so far, now he was.

Iorund only smirked with mysterious confidence and responded invitingly, raising his weapon to stand guard,

"The spar has already begun, Gandalf... If you feel disrespected, now is a good time to show me what you are made of."

With his sword tip aimed at his opponent, he stood carefree and unguarded.

"..."

Rollo didn't say anything and stopped cleaning the sword.

He began gently circling about Iorund as a shark would, without taking any specific stance.

The tip of the blade, unharmful one, resting on the side of his thigh and facing the ground.

"You're doing well not to rush in and come at me unwisely… Unfortunately, such a stratagem is always of very little worth once things get underway."

"As you must know, these children's toys always seem fairly friendly for spars… But when swung by the swordsman with the more agile hand, they still hurt like Hel. Especially after a few blows on choice regions of the body."

Iorund was grinning, and he began moving as Rollo did, without taking things too seriously on his part.

He bantered a bit.

Unlike Rollo, though, he kept a guarded warrior posture, clutching the handle of his sword firmly between his two hands.

He was looking like a samurai waiting to be attacked.

"You sound like someone who has lived through his fair share of such blows and aches... Your sister, can I presume? In my humble view, she does seem to be a lot more powerful than you."

Rollo taunted.

He relished trash talking during friendly sparring matches.

He didn't have time, missed the leisure to do so when chopping cabbage and other things such as impaling tribe chiefs on the battlefield in recent days.

"..."

This time it was Iorund who fell silent.

Hearing Rollo's remark, he scowled.

Rollo rushed in and yelled, swinging, after noticing him lose his concentration for a split second,

"You're open all over!"

He swung his sword violently, like a gust of wind.

The stroke was too fast for Iorund to respond to, and the blade was around his neck before he realized it. 

It came to a stop there. 

With Rollo standing right in front of him.

Rollo favored hatchets, but swords worked just as well.

Heavy swords were likely superior…

For someone like him, at least.

He just didn't want the cuck curse of the Berserker to befall him.

Berserk was an abomination.

If not the entire thing, one scene was.

Horrible. Horrible.

But wait.

Yun Che also seemed to use a giant sword too?

He definitely wasn't a cuck.

As far as Rollo could recall.

Rollo went back to reality, leaving his faster thoughts he mocked Iorund, saying, 

"That should be one to nill for me… Do you want to continue?"

XX

"Who are those men down over there? Does any of you know them? The bigger and taller one especially."

Someone not far, in a group of women wearing different sorts of attire, and seeming to be of different status and positions, one of them asked.

"My lady Aslaug, this should be my brother and someone naming himself Gandalf."

A woman with a large child-bearing waist, looking thick but plain, replied.

She didn't look that crude, nor unordinarily pretty.

"Your brother? Did you have a brother, Ingrid? How did I not know that?"

Ingrid replied with a humble smile, 

"My brother happens to be unruly and insubordinate… He is hardly anything to boast home about."

"We also never really had the chance to have such discussions, my lady. The other shield maidens are fully informed of this, however."

When looked at, the small group of women holding shields and spears in the background nodded.

Stepping forward at the edge of the ravine and top of the little hill, another woman who matched the woman named Aslaug exactly in every way save hair color said,

"For a family villain and black sheep, your brother doesn't look lethargic, Ingrid… Even so, it is quite apparent that he has seems to have met a faster and stronger adversary…"

"Did you say he was named Gandalf?"

"How do you know him?"

Ingrid answered, 

"He's a tourist in the area, my lady Frida. My brother tried to prank a sneaky trick on him yesterday, so I helped him out of it."

Frida frowned in confusion and surprise and inquired curiously, her face very nearly rising to a chuckle,

"A trick? What kind of sneaky trick was it? They seem friendly enough today, that it must not have been such a villainous one."

Ingrid replied,

"Trust me, my lady Frida, the trick was worth its sliver of coin…"

"Although it seems as if I have been anxious for this stranger named Gandalf for little to no reason at all..."

"He unarguably looks to be able to hold up himself in a wrestle."

As she finished speaking, she watched, focused a little more on the two men down there.

The ones engaged in close combat with clashing swords.

One of them, which had her sigh internally, was her very own brother, who was already out of his element and breath, as he fired, attempted stabs with no success to his aim.

The other was more unstructured, unstrained, with one hand cradled, resting like some centuries-old man behind his back.

A wise hand, contemptuous paw, which he from time to time used to yawn obnoxiously.

She didn't know why, but she didn't wish, feel inclined to give away his secrets, neither did she seem empowered to.

He had not told her about such an odd, unsettling phenomenon last night…

In her eye, as well as the ones of her two ladies quietly observing, admiring him, the mystery and interest for him was growing at a brisk pace.

The man was not just flowery with his perfect face, he was sturdy and strong as well.

He was the kind of man, for which women would experience their tender abdomens, chests, and faces, pulse and flutter for.

XX

Author Note:

To avoid a misunderstanding: that OC named Frida was created specifically for Ragnar to have his sons with her.

I hope you won't make a fuss over OC women...

The MC won't get in bed with her because I don't want you to call him a cuck over that. He won't even be interested.