Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 45 Wooden Plank
The following day, Vig, accompanied by a small retinue, went to the south bank to scout and discovered that the lake east of Dufelin was vast, and that the defenders were urgently harvesting the reeds along the shore to prevent an attack.

The town is bordered by a series of marshes to the south, with a landscape similar to the Great Marsh north of York, which produce a type of dark brown peat that can be burned.

After circling around, only the western side had flat terrain and a wide view, making it suitable for a large-scale siege operation.

On the third day, Vig led his troops to land on the west side of Dufelin. The defenders dared not leave the city to fight in the open, but instead drove a large number of slaves to dig trenches outside the walls, planning to divert river water to create a moat.

According to the schedule, by the time Vig builds enough catapults and siege towers, the moat on the west side of Dufilin should be almost complete. With the moat as a barrier, the difficulty of the siege will be further increased.

"This guy is shameless and doesn't deserve to be a Viking warrior."

In an attempt to provoke the garrison into coming out of the city to fight, Ivar selected more than a dozen loudmouths and had them humiliate Sven's cowardice from morning till night, slandering him as a muddle-headed and incompetent old pig. This went on for a whole week without any effect.

In desperation, Ivar went alone to a distance of a hundred paces outside the wall, at the edge of the defenders' crossbow range, and raised his sword, demanding a one-on-one duel.

"Sven, get out here!"

However, the other party ignored him and drove out a sow covered in mud with a scrawled, comical little figure holding a sword drawn on its back, clearly intended to humiliate Ivar.

Having failed in his challenge and instead been humiliated by the opponent, Ivar's patience was nearing its limit, and he asked Vig if there was a quick way to break through the city.

“It’s a tough situation. The western wall is under heavy scrutiny, and a moat has been dug specifically for it. The northern wall is protected by the Liffey River, and Sven is also forcing slaves to build an inner wall. As a result, even if we use catapults to destroy the outer wall, we still won’t be able to break through.”

Vig quickly sketched a simple diagram on the ground with a stick, his face solemn. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and he paced back and forth on the grass for a full half hour before finally coming up with a bold plan.

Time flew by, and before we knew it, it was mid-May. The wheat fields west of Dufilin ripened, and Ivar sent soldiers to harvest the wheat to serve as military rations, which greatly relieved the logistical pressure.

The crops were harvested, but the defenders still did not engage in battle, continuing to dig trenches day after day. Meanwhile, the siege camp's equipment was constantly being increased: large catapults taller than ten people, giant towers that could be slowly pushed, and countless siege ladders.

According to Sven's prediction, the real decisive battle will take place next month. If he can withstand the first few rounds of attacks and kill as many of Ivar's elite soldiers as possible, he might have a 50% chance of winning.

At night, he fell asleep with the help of two maids, and in his drowsy state, he still uttered short murmurs in his sleep.

"Hmm, ten heavy crossbows are too few. These weapons can penetrate chainmail. I should have bought more."

After an unknown amount of time, Sven was awakened by screams and footsteps outside. He put on his clothes and went to the balcony.

At this moment, the sky was just beginning to brighten. Catapults on the north bank of the River Liffey and in the west of the city simultaneously launched stones, their shrill sounds growing louder as they bombarded the two walls and nearby houses.

"Strange, many siege weapons are not yet completed, why are they in such a hurry?"

Hastily donning his armor, Sven led the majority of his soldiers to the western city wall. Five siege towers slowly crept across the open ground, surrounded by thousands of menacing Vikings.

Just then, a guard ran in with a message, saying that five turtle ships had appeared on the River Liffey, seemingly preparing to attack the northern city wall. "What could five ships do? Most likely, they're just trying to lure me into dispersing my forces."

With over a thousand Vikings gathered outside the city, Sven concluded that this was the main direction of the attack. To be on the safe side, he ordered his men to redeploy troops from the east and south flanks to reinforce the north wall as needed.

"Just take half, don't add too much."

More than ten minutes later, the siege tower was less than a hundred paces from the west wall. Sven ordered the flaming arrows to be launched. As the number of hits increased, the quantitative change led to a qualitative change, and the fire in one of the siege towers quickly spread. The Vikings hiding inside fled in panic, and many were killed or wounded.

Approaching the west wall, only two of the five siege towers remained. Sven dispatched soldiers to nearby crenellations, while he himself led a hundred warriors down the wall and waited quietly behind a breach.

This gap, wide enough for five people to walk side by side, was the trebuchet's greatest achievement. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, Ivar would lead his elite warriors to attack this spot. Sven, however, was prepared; he had positioned ten heavy crossbowmen nearby, ready to concentrate fire and kill the man the moment they met.

Ideally, the leaders of the Boneless Ones and the Serpent of the North would both perish in battle, plunging the enemy into chaos, allowing the commander to lead his troops out of the city to pursue and eliminate this threat completely.

Suddenly, a panicked shout came from behind. Sven turned around and saw that there was a problem with the east wall!
Is this a feint, or the real main attack?

With his heart pounding, Sven hesitated for a few seconds before selecting thirty warriors to rush to the East as quickly as possible.

Four minutes later, he went up the steps to the east wall. Not far away, three turtle boats came to the lake. Each boat had a tall, thick wooden plank erected at its bow. He didn't understand what it meant.

As they drew closer to the riverbank, the three turtle boats not only failed to slow down, but instead increased the frequency of their rowing. The keels scraped against the gravel on the bank, producing a sharp and noisy high-frequency sound that inexplicably irritated everyone.

Immediately afterwards, the wooden planks erected at the bow of the ship crashed down, slamming heavily against the crenellations of the wall. In just a few seconds, to the astonishment of the defenders, a small group of armored warriors surged onto the city wall, stepping on the planks.

"Stop them."

At Sven's signal, the soldiers charged toward the nearest warrior with shouts. This man was tall and handsome, wearing expensive chainmail, and his longsword was adorned with intricate and dazzling patterns, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

This sword should belong to me!

Sven unconsciously took two steps forward. When he came to his senses, all six soldiers in front of him had been killed. Crimson blood dripped down the tip of the sword, creating a breathtakingly beautiful sight.

"You're Sven? My name is Vig Hackenson. Surrender or fight?" After introducing himself, Vig saw that this guy wasn't going to surrender, so he got into a fighting stance to attack.

Against enemies clad in chainmail, one must focus on their weak points. Vig took a deep breath, about to swing his sword, when the man before him suddenly leaped down the four-meter-high city wall, darting with unimaginable agility into a house and vanishing without a trace.

what's the situation?
Vig looked around blankly, holding his longsword. His brain seemed to freeze for a full three minutes before he came to his senses.

This kind of trash doesn't even dare to call itself the King of Film?
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(End of this chapter)