Erik squeezed his eyes tightly shut and buried his face deep into thesand. Beside him, Halig and Torstein did the same thing, wrapping their arms over the backs of their heads. The 1,400 Iron Kingdom soldiers lay flat on the beach, holding their breath.

Out on the water, the tall Danish captain grabbed the edge of the drifting transport ship. He looked down at the barrels of black sand scattered across the deck. He saw the tiny, glowing orange spark of the cloth fuse reach the powder.

A blinding, pure white flash of light illuminated the dark morning, turning the entire beach as bright as the middle of summer for exactly one heartbeat.

The incredible force of the blast slammed into the beach like a solid wall of iron.

Erik felt his entire body get pushed hard into the sand. The air was sucked out of his lungs.

A massive shower of freezing seawater, wet sand, and burning splinters of wood rained down heavily on the backs of the Iron Kingdom soldiers.

Behind Erik, the rebel warriors standing on the beach did not know to drop to the ground. They took the full, devastating impact of the shockwave right to their chests.

Men were lifted entirely off their feet and thrown backward through the air. The heavy blocks of ice they were holding instantly shattered into a million harmless pieces.

Halfdan’s warhorse shrieked in terror, rearing up and throwing the old warlord backward into the snowy dirt.

A painful ringing echoed inside Erik’s head.

He groaned, slowly pushing himself up from the sand. His entire body ached, and his coat was covered in black soot and wet ash.

He shook his head, slapping the side of his helmet to try and clear the ringing from his ears.

Halig was slowly sitting up, spitting a large mouthful of sand onto the beach. He looked at Erik, his eyes wide with shock. Halig pointed a shaking finger out toward the ocean.

The explosion had ripped right through the tightly packed fleet of 200 Danish longships.

The beautiful, carved wooden dragon heads were shattered.

Dozens of the Danish ships nearest to the blast were completely obliterated, sinking into the dark water.

The rest of the fleet was heavily damaged, their red and white striped sails engulfed in roaring orange flames.

Thousands of surviving Danish warriors were thrashing in the water, screaming in panic as they clung to burning pieces of wood, trying to swim away from the inferno.

"Holy fucking shit..." Halig whispered, his hearing slowly returning over the sound of the crackling flames.

"...I really didn’t think it would be that loud." Erik laughed, a chuckle escaping his lips as he wiped the black soot from his forehead.

Torstein stood up, he looked at the burning ocean, and then he turned around to look at the rebel army on the beach.

"Musketeers! On your feet!" Torstein roared, "Pick up your weapons! Reform the line!"

The soldiers scrambled to their feet. They quickly brushed the sand off their heavy muskets, checking the firing mechanisms to ensure the powder was still dry.

They formed a tight line on the beach once again, pointing their iron barrels directly at the surviving rebels.

But there was no need to shoot...

The exiled warriors were sitting in the sand, bleeding from their noses and ears, staring at the burning ocean.

Erik drew his mace and walked slowly up the beach. Halig and Torstein walked right behind him, their weapons drawn and ready.

The rebel warriors scrambled out of Erik’s way, crawling backward in the sand to avoid him.

Halfdan was sitting on his knees in the dirt, his fur cloak ruined, his face covered in mud.

The old warlord was staring at the sinking Danish ships, his axe lying forgotten in the sand a few feet away.

Halfdan slowly looked up.

"You brought wooden boats to a gunpowder fight. Did you really think Ragnar’s empire would just let you surround us and stab us with pieces of sharpened iron?" Erik sneered.

"We surrender..." Halfdan whispered, his voice cracking.

"Halig, take his axe." Erik ordered, finally lowering his mace. "Torstein, tell the men to start rounding up the prisoners. Have them march back up the slope toward the city walls. We will secure the city today and set up a proper command post."

"What about the Danes in the water?" Halig asked, picking up Halfdan’s heavy axe and resting it on his shoulder. He pointed a thumb back at the burning sea.

"Let them swim back to Denmark..." Erik laughed brightly. "If the freezing water doesn’t kill them, the long walk across the ocean floor definitely will."

The Iron Kingdom soldiers let out a victorious cheer. They raised their muskets high into the air, celebrating their incredible survival and their King’s ruthless strategy.

Erik had proven himself as a true commander of the Iron Kingdom. He had protected his men, defeated a massive alliance, and secured the vital sulfur deposits for Ragnar’s factories.

He turned around, ready to walk back up the snowy slope and claim his new frozen city.

The ground beneath his boots was vibrating. The loose sand on the beach actually started to bounce into the air.

"..."

"Is that... is that the rebels marching again?"

Erik slowly raised his head, staring up at the towering mountain. The thin wisp of black smoke that had been drifting from the peak suddenly transformed.

A massive pillar of ash shot straight up into the sky, blocking out the pale sunlight.

Erik took a deep breath, forcing his heart to slow down. He looked at Halig, who was clutching Halfdan’s heavy axe with white knuckles.

"Halig, relax your shoulders..." Erik forced a loud laugh, slapping his friend hard on the back.

He then turned around to face his nervous army, raising his mace high in the air.

"Don’t worry, boys! Hold your ground!" Erik’s voice boomed across the silent beach, "I told you that shockwave from our ships would hit the volcano! This... this is just the shockwave echoing back from the mountain! It is just a little gas burping out of the mines! You should all know that these voices are normal in this island!"

Though Erik’s explanation was biologically, geologically, and totally inaccurate, the men needed something to believe that wasn’t "we are all going to die in a river of fire."

The musketeers looked at their King, standing tall and laughing in the face of the apocalyptic eruption.

If Erik wasn’t afraid, maybe they didn’t need to be either...

After hearing such words, Torstein, ever the practical commander, took his King’s lead.

He drew his steel mace and started yelling orders, breaking the silence on the beach. "You heard the King! Stop staring at the sky and get back to work! Round up these prisioners!"

"Round them up! No weapons! Keep them moving!" Torstein commanded.

Erik walked over to his uncle. Halfdan was still sitting in the sand, staring blankly at the smoking peak.

"Get up." Erik said. "I am not going to kill you today. Ragnar will want to ask you why you allied with the Danes before he chops your head off himself."

Halfdan just continued to stare at the orange glow in the sky.

As Halfdan was dragged away by two musketeers, Erik looked out at the ocean.