Life in the cell was dull. For Eric, the only upside was probably that it was much quieter.

There was no need to deal with a bunch of random people either.

Leif could finally eat some decent food. He was still the same as when they first met, though—silent unless spoken to. When asked a question, he would always pause for a minute before answering. To be precise, one minute and one second. Eric had timed it, and absurdly, it was exact every time.

Hessin was "summoned" almost every day. Eric had witnessed his expression change from initial sorrow to numbness, and now to a state of calm acceptance.

Now, he faced his daily "summons" with composure. It might be a bit inappropriate to think, but Eric always felt that Hessin had some other emotions mixed in. Excitement, for instance?

Eric could only hope that the forty-year-old noblewoman wouldn’t grow tired of Hessin before the so-called "big operation" Leif mentioned took place.

’Who could handle a noblewoman like that?’

BANG! BANG! The sound of someone pounding on a door came from outside the cell. As if answering some divine call, Hessin abruptly stood up and faced the iron door with a solemn expression. If the cell hadn’t been so dark, Eric felt he would’ve seen a holy light shining upon him.

"Mr. Priest, I’m off," he said, looking like a brave warrior marching to his death.

However, Eric noticed the pounding outside hadn’t stopped. And it wasn’t just one door being pounded on.

Suddenly, the cell door was kicked open. Several guards rushed in and immediately pinned the three of them down.

"What are you doing? I’m Lady Leiya’s dog—no, I mean, I’m one of Lady Leiya’s men!" Hessin shouted.

But he was immediately slapped across the face.

"Don’t act crazy in here. If you want to go crazy, do it on the battlefield."

Eric and Leif didn’t resist, allowing the guards to escort them out.

He saw that nearly all the prisoners from every cell were being herded out.

The Isle of Man might be much smaller than England, but it was still a good five hundred square kilometers.

This band of Vikings had erected quite a few buildings on the island.

Just as Leif had said, the roads were teeming with people. Brawny physiques and tattoos covering various parts of their bodies—they were undoubtedly Vikings from all different regions. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Many of them noticed Eric’s group of prisoners and met them with playful threats or meaningless roars.

The occasional cries of terror and fear from many of the prisoners sent the surrounding Vikings into fits of laughter. It was as if this reminded them of their former golden age, a mockery of the weakness of the people of Britain.

Although among the prisoners there were also many from Scandinavia, as well as mixed-blood North Gaels, Icelanders, and Greenlanders, who had been either sold or deceived. They were devout believers in the gods or Christ—though more of them held a more flexible faith, believing in Thor at sea and Christ on land.

After being marched for about ten minutes, they arrived at a wide-open area by the coast.

The guards chained them to massive stone pillars on the shore. Each person’s shackles were connected to a chain, all locked to several large stone pillars in a radial, umbrella-like pattern. This seemed to be standard procedure for handling slave soldiers.

Eric saw the shore packed densely with longships. Within his line of sight alone, there were nearly two hundred of them. ’Have they summoned every last Viking from the Southern Islands, the Northern Islands, Iceland, and Greenland?’

What on earth were they planning to do?

Eric tried to get closer for a better look and inevitably bumped into a burly man next to him. A strange smell washed over him, and Eric nearly gagged.

’Damn it, this guy has B.O.’

Just as Eric was about to move away from him.

"Get the fuck away from me, Christian Priest! The rotten stench of your lies is choking me. This swindler’s stench will make Thor displeased with me."

The large man pointed at Eric and cursed, his expression one of righteous indignation.

"Hey! Guard! I want to move! A Warrior of Thor doesn’t want to be near a Christian liar!"

"You motherf—"

Eric almost choked with anger. ’The villain strikes first, huh?’ He hadn’t even called the guy out, and yet the guy was accusing him. He rolled up his sleeves, ready to teach this clueless oaf a lesson.

But before he could say a word, someone behind him spoke up for him.

"What are you so arrogant for, Heretic? I think having you ghouls around is hindering our own ascent to Heaven!"

"Yeah, that’s right! What’s a mere follower of a false god got to be arrogant about! Not even Beelzebub’s flies would go near your stench."

"What’s so great about bullying a Priest? Did we Christians kill your family? Did Christians eat your bread? What business is it of yours that we believe in the Lord of Heaven?"

"You Northern European barbarian! If it weren’t for us Christians, would those shacks you live in even be habitable?"

"What’s with the attitude? Thunder God Thor, is it? Look at those ghouls you follow, and look at you—not quite human, not quite ghost. You think you can persecute us Christians?"

"Got the guts? Come fight me one-on-one in Rome! Don’t let me catch you on the streets of Rome. If you come to Rome, I guarantee you’ll have a bad time."

Seeing Eric’s Monk’s Robe, the Christians among the prisoners realized he was a Cultivator and instantly grew agitated.

"What are you shouting for! A bunch of weak trash! If you’re all so tough, how’d you end up here to die?"

"Christians are all liars full of shit! And they can’t stand it when people speak ill of them."

"Exactly! We were doing just fine believing in our gods. Who asked you to come to Northern Europe and meddle, spreading your religion?"

"And you Viking traitors! You’ve turned your backs on your own traditions! It’s because you abandoned the gods and lost their protection that we Vikings are now being beaten back at every turn."

"You don’t even believe in the gods! Do you traitors even deserve to be called Vikings!?"

"A one-on-one fight, is it! I’ll take you on! If you’ve got the guts, come to the Upland Great Temple! We’ll show you what the Thunder God’s wrath is!"

It started with just one or two people stirring up trouble, but it instantly escalated into a massive shouting match involving nearly a hundred people.

Of course, with the great variety of languages among the prisoners, many had no idea what the other side was saying. Prompted by garbled translations from those nearby, they joined the fray without a clue, despite not knowing what the insults even were.

"Fuck you, Heretics!"

"Fuck you, Christians!"

Apparently, just shouting wasn’t satisfying enough, but since they were chained and couldn’t fight properly, both sides started spitting at each other. Even some of the nearby guards joined the shouting match.

The scene immediately became a stinking mess and began to spiral out of control.

Eric couldn’t take it anymore. "STOP!" he roared.

It’s not clear if everyone was just tired of shouting or if they had fallen into some strange state, like how a noisy classroom will suddenly go silent for a moment.

"Everyone! Countrymen! Brothers! Followers of Christ! Please, lend me your ears. As the person involved, I wish to state the facts of this incident objectively. First, I feel that as a Christian, I was a bit too extreme and emotional just now."

"Our Catholicism is a religion that advocates for love and peace. Cursing at people is truly too base, don’t you all agree? If you get it, applaud!"

"The honorable Priest is right! We love peace! Everyone, calm down!" a relatively older, middle-aged man chimed in.

"Yes, we love peace!"

"Love and peace!" the Christian group echoed, clapping. Of course, some of them couldn’t swallow their anger and were still spitting.

"So..."

Eric walked up to the burly man who believed in the gods.

The man thought Eric was about to apologize, so he tilted his head back with a look of arrogance.

"BAM! BAM! BAM!"

Eric went straight for a rear-naked choke, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck and hammering his fist into the man’s face.

"So you’re the one who strikes first, motherfucker! You’re the one who smelled a rotten stench, huh?! I’ll teach you to be arrogant! I’ll teach you! You think you’re worthy of mentioning Thor? You bring shame to Thor!"

Dividing people by their faith is foolish.

Eric treated Christians and believers of the gods equally—as long as they didn’t provoke him. Otherwise, he would beat them all the same.

"That’s too brutal."

A Christian clutched his face in fear, then waved his hands forward. "Everyone, get ’em! Fight!"