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No, not silence—attention.

I could feel the weight of countless gazes bearing down on me.

‘Damn it.’

This was the exact situation I’d wanted to avoid. I came here on the first day to escape this nonsense, and now it was all ruined.

‘That bastard.’

My expression darkened as I glared at the source of this mess.

A young man with jet-black hair and piercing black eyes stood out among the crowd. His sharp features and well-proportioned figure were ...

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“When the old gods are forgotten, they do not die—they wait.”In the year 1025, the Viking Age wanes.Iceland bows to Christ. The Althing governs by law. And the gods of old fade to whispers.But in the far Westfjords, something stirs.Vetrulfr, a former Varangian captain and exile, returns from the East with foreign gold, forgotten warcraft, and a hunger no man can name.He comes not in peace, but to raise Ullrsfjörðr from ash and ice; building walls, carving runes, and waging war on behalf of a dying faith.From Reykjavík to Aachen, rumors spread: a ghost walks the North once more. Some call him the son of Ullr. Others, a wolf-cloaked demon.But all will know his name.and when the Valkyries call, he will answer.

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