Opening: Essence of the Viking

Rollo's barbaric ax danced through the fray, harvesting one life after another in a cold, but alert and omnipotent manner. He didn't miss a ripper blow.

His reflexes and his ability to break down and counterattack the cumulative threats piled up around him no longer had anything human. He was a god of the battlefield.

No need for dappled sacrifices and last-minute prayers before the walk over the hills, the hills full of a stifling, stressful breeze, leading to Valhalla. Within the two armies, who had set their sights on chance in the midst of randomness, even the dependable Reaper, who thrived in such an atmosphere, rejected the Viking of master proportion.

"Retreat, everyone, retreat, it's not a man, it's a battlefield god we are facing!" 

In the opposing camp, a reasonable person shouted, giving the signal to flee from the threat. Lingering here would only cost more lives. Too many had already been lost in this disaster, where the fight had lost all its meaning.

"Rollo, do not let the opposing army commander leave alive! Hold !"

In the other camp, a familiar voice hastened to shout in the ear of the calamitous war zone colossus. It was Ragnar who had his face smeared in blood from the enemies. From a distance, he quickly lobbed a spear up into Rollo's hands.

"... " 

Rollo didn't say anything and grasped the javelin with a hard and sure grip.

Turning his head with a horrible sneer, one as bloodied as his younger brother, he aimed for the adjacent hill, where a horse, with a man atop the poor beast it was, was fleeing in dread and panic.

After admirably calibrating his aim, which took twice the time than it took to furrow his brow, he threw the piercing weapon, with a snarling, booming fury. The tube of compressed air, punctured by the speeding and heavy needle, almost seemed to be getting raped.

"No, stay away!" 

The chubby man galloping on the horse turned his head to see the sharp weapon looming over him, hungry to take his life and place him in eternal rest.

He was seeking sanctuary from the fight, thus it was unclear whether he would make it to Valhalla. What he was doing now was far from brave, as he fled before them and abandoned his troops, the majority of whom were trying to ensure his safe escape.

"Hahhhh!!"

(Author's Note: Any noise and sound effect experts out there are welcome to assist me. It's a struggle for me.)

The spear, hurled like a slingshot, dropped from the heavens with force and embedded itself in the man's throat. The exact location pinpointed, calculated with diabolic precision by Rollo, who was keeping track of the horse's movement from seconds earlier.

[Congratulations on killing the enemy commander "Skuld"! Passive skills dropped: Master of Escape, Battle Commander, Charmer of Troops.]

[Uncommon and Randomized drops: 0]

Rollo didn't even try to read because he had too many passive abilities after a few days of reincarnation.

He was more interested in the Essence he had just picked up after murdering a soldier seconds before. He needed to activate it later, when he had the time.

The lack of a status screen to analyze his passive skills contributed to him being bored enough to bother to try to keep track of them.

"Nooo, everyone flee away from this demon, retreat, I repeat, retreat!" 

Seeing their commander fall, the morale of the opposing forces fell completely down, and some clever ones went as far as dropping their heavy weapons and pieces of armor to expedite their escape into the woodlands.

Rollo also changed from a god of the battlefield to a demon, which seemed uncommon in Viking culture.

Draugr?

Or were those just the skeleton ones?

He didn't know anything about it and had no desire to learn; this was what Floki and Ragnar were into.

He was more interested in spilling the blood and the hot bitches.

Ragnar raised his little hand axe and sneered, 

"Everyone, don't let Rollo's great achievement go to waste, pursue!"

"Yes, commander!"

Rollo also casually followed, riding up and down the hills and into the forest, but he was more keeping an eye on Ragnar and acting as his protector, not merely against the other forces in the opposing army.

"Spare me, please, I have a wife and daughters!"

Someone begged, but Rollo let his axe fall on his neck, putting an end to his sorrows and anxieties; on the battlefield, there was no room for mercy, only the orders of your army commander.

Rollo wasn't someone who liked to think anyway.

Rollo's face was speckled with warm blood again, splattering as he cleansed it, while Ragnar killed someone too and chuckled, 

"Brother, we made a big killing this time, the earl is definitely going to need our services in Kattegat!"

"Kattegat…" 

Rollo murmured pensively, eager to get there and see how things would go in this world.

Rollo did not attempt to wipe out the runaway men. He didn't see the point of collecting passive skills he already possessed. 

It was difficult to find new ones among the same groups.

Killing more just for the sake of it would not help him level up his passive skills any faster, especially with these guys who no longer posed a real challenge, even in large numbers. 

He had a skill that allowed him to heal while killing people, but he was not injured, so it was pointless.

After a few minutes, the last soldier they could catch up with was captured to become a slave, and one of Ragnar's men, approached to recount the war's spoils and casualties.

Ragnar muttered to Rollo, who was cleaning the blade of his axe, 

"I lose interest in keeping track of these things when I know we'll only get a few leftovers."

He only listened to the report with half an ear, picking his nose.

He was blowing his fingers and throwing a nose booger when Rollo said, 

"Don't talk about those kinds of things in front of anyone but me in the future. Haraldson has eyes and ears in many places… Don't be so quick to point out how he isn't generous."

When he finished speaking, he glared at the sweating, terrified soldier in front of him. He smiled and tapped the little guy's shoulder, saying, 

"You're not one of those boring ears, are you? My axe is still itching for more flesh to feed on."

The guy rushed to respond, 

"O-Of course not, Lord Rollo!" 

Under the long glare, he trembled and appeared to be about to piss himself right there. After what he had seen in the previous few days, he had no reason to be ashamed if that happened, which fortunately did not.

Rollo probably would have killed him for stinking up the place.

The environment was cold and retained scents, and the air easily remained afloat in the nostrils.

XX

The protracted fight with a tribal chief from another village was finally won without too many losses when Rollo transformed from the best soldier to a complete beast in a matter of days.

Tomorrow was the time to return home for many men and then to Kattegat for the commander to see the earl.

Rollo, the great one being sang about and lauded around the camp where there were simmering and smoky barbecues, was in his tent, acting as a bystander and relaxing.

There weren't any women to fuck and drink with here, so he was content to do that and rest calmly.

After waking up from a nap, he drank some ale to refresh his brain before setting down the mead flask and thinking, 

'Let's try to activate that Essence and see what it's all about.'

His recent rebirth in this world, or rather transmigration, had brought with it strange and powerful benefits. The most powerful, but also the most rare, was the drop of Essences, which happened to him only rarely. He was fortunate that it happened within the last few days. The next time could be in years or centuries.

Given the types of passive skills he was picking up from dead foes during battle, he wasn't concerned that he wouldn't live that long; he would undoubtedly.

For the first time, an interface appeared. Only for this.

(Note from the author: this is my own custom Essence; I'm not sure if there are others similar to this one; props to those I replicate if I do; I'm not doing it on purpose at all.)

[Essence of the Viking]

[Type: Custom Meta Essence CYOA]

[This essence transforms you into the ultimate Norseman warrior, a Viking among Vikings. Not necessarily a king, but a famous warrior with ambitions to see his nation and culture dominate the world.]

[Vikings enjoy conquering and exploring new lands, which is why your first power is the ability to travel the multiverse once your nation has subjugated and become the overlord of this world.]

[You will be able to travel the multiverse in a massive Viking spaceship that serves as both a station and a fast travel device, capable of phasing through space and time to reach new multiverse lands. You can navigate through timelines and alternate universes.]

[As a viking, and the ultimate one, your warrior skills improve overall, particularly your massive ability to cause enemies to collapse when surrounded and trapped, much like an injured animal on the verge of death.]

[When you shout, or raise your weapon on the battlefield, your troops' morale rises from the bottom to the top. Even in desperate situations, they gain strength, brutality, and the ability to endure, while their fear decreases dramatically.]

[Your effortless warrior charisma ensures that your allies are more responsive and loyal to you than anyone else on the battlefield.]

[Offering prayers and sacrifices to the gods has its own set of benefits for you and your allies, including faster healing, disease protection, better sleep, and the ability to go weeks without eating, but only if they are made from the hurt, pain of your foes, who are not children. Preferably those who are also not innocent.]

[As a viking, you are naturally attuned to natural forces such as the wind, sea, and sky, as well as their signs. Your perception, intuition, and ability to sense and avoid danger increase dramatically, your sense of direction is uncanny.]

[Drinking is good for your health and can even help you live longer. Women are also medicine to you; those who receive your sex-sword or seed within them recover from all illnesses and see their bodies grow stronger and healthier. The more seed you deposit inside them, the faster and more dramatic their growth will be. All of these effects, however, are under your control, and you can prevent women from becoming pregnant.]

[A true Viking is a winner in life who must not only seize the throne for himself or his king or queen, but also defend it against enemies, including those in his own household and those closest to the throne. Torture is an art and a second nature for you, a magical skill that you have mastered. You can make people who are supposed to die live longer to endure more torture for years if necessary, and setting examples of punishments frequently leads to people spilling the beans and perpetrators and plotters coming forward.]

[Your own resistance to pains and torture, mental and psychic or bodily, psychotropic, can be switched to maximum volumes so that you laugh through it.]

[You can disguise yourself like Loki, change your clothes instantly, take on the appearance of an animal or an insect, and mask and shield your fate and destiny, thoughts, heart desires, and secrets from prying eyes, including gods.]

[Last but not least. A viking is lonely and needs loved ones, women, and family, as well as the ability to protect them. As the epitome of a traveler, you do not only conquer and subjugate, but also protect. You can instantly teleport back to people, animals, and creatures that you know and sense, are in danger.]

[Your instincts are irregular, and you can sense danger and trouble from any distance away. You can easily tame all animals and use them as eyes and ears for yourself.]

The overall facts and powers included in the essence, the explanation, concluded here.

'The Multiverse... I now have the ability to travel it after conquering this world?'

'Luckily, it seems like I don't have to become a head of state myself, just one of the leaders and more of a famous and feared military officer. A true and free viking… I can simply persuade Ragnar to annex the entire world, something he likely won't have any objections to.'

'Even if he passes away, I can have his successor as king handle that as well... I really don't think I'd enjoy being a king.'

Rollo thought.

He smiled, grabbed the flask with the ale inside, and drank again. This time, it tasted better than usual.

He didn't feel like he was drinking delicious poison anymore; instead, he felt like he was drinking from a miraculous and magical fountain that contained the rich taste of things he loved.

Rollo, unaware that he had internal injuries hidden in his body, felt his body healing all over after a few more sips.

'I suppose I'll only get stronger from here, with both the skills that drop and this Essence.'

Rollo stood and exited the tent. 

He wanted to eat something. 

Relaxation was a form of rest, and he no longer felt the need for it.

He met Ragnar just outside, on his way to a wild meat barbecue.

This man was extremely fortunate in life, and he was truly a man who prayed to the gods.

"Have you had a good rest, brother? We're continuing the march home tomorrow at the first sign of dawn," 

Ragnar smiled at him, clearly pleased with their recent battle victories; Rollo's contribution was invaluable and shocked him to the core.

He now had a new respect for his older brother, whereas before, people who saw them interacting might have had legitimate doubts about who was older than the other due to their unusual relationship.

Trust for Rollo was something he always had, though, he would be shocked if Rollo ever did anything to harm him.

Rollo stretched and remarked, 

"I slept like a baby. Give me something to eat; I'm starving."

XX

Ragnar and Rollo had finished marching and arrived back in their village early the next morning.

They needed to go to Kattegat to see the earl, specifically Ragnar, who was the commander, but that could wait until tomorrow.

The old Rollo liked children, but the new one didn't; he particularly disliked boys, so there was no appeal to being close to them. He was more interested in his niece, Gyda. Nieces were cute, but nephews were more disgusting, especially when small.

Bjorn approached them as soon as they returned home, greeted them joyfully, and was easily hugged and lifted from the ground and down by his father. 

The child was 12, but he weighed nothing to Ragnar.

Lagertha also walked out of the house at that moment, seeing her son run into the arms of her husband, who had just come back from battle.

Safe and sound.

'Having a family and a wife does seem to be a nice thing... I'm curious what happened between Rollo and Lagertha 12 years ago. Except for this incident, all the memories I inherited from the guy are clear in my mind.'

'Did Ragnar steal Lagertha? I can simply ask and find out. Even if not them, someone will eventually tell me the truth.'

"Rollo…"

After greeting her husband as any wife should, Lagertha gave Rollo a cold greeting.

She didn't appear to be grateful that Rollo had once again protected and supported her husband.

'What kind of bullshit is this...?'

Rollo chuckled inside.

He knew what fate had in store for her and would not help her until she was desperate and alone. Desperate for a man and to be queen in order to regain some sense of importance.

That woman was going to steal everything from her, and she wouldn't be humbled until then.

Rollo, however, was not one to flee when confronted with an unpleasant situation, so he greeted Lagertha with a mocking smile, 

"You look well and abled sister-in-law, when is the next time we will see you on the battlefield with us?"

Her housewife appearance could be misleading; she was a fierce warrior who killed many people.