"Torstein..." Erik called out, his smile growing wider. "Are the men ready to show my uncle what a firing squad looks like?"

Torstein slammed his fist against his chest, "The men are born ready, King Erik! We will burn this beach to glass if you give the word!"

Up on the edge of the snowy path, Halfdan finally stopped laughing.

The old warlord pulled hard on the reins of his massive warhorse, his eyebrows knitting together in deep confusion. He looked at the Iron Kingdom soldiers standing on the flat, sandy beach.

They were standing shoulder-to-shoulder, completely silent, pointing those strange iron tubes directly at him.

"They are not running!" Halfdan bellowed. He raised his double-bitted axe, pointing it at the gray line of soldiers. "Form the wall! Lock your shields! We march them directly into the sea!"

The warriors in the front row slammed their round wooden shields together, overlapping the iron-rimmed edges to create a solid wall of wood.

The men behind them raised their shields over their heads, protecting the army from any falling arrows.

By locking their shields together and marching forward in unison, the warriors become a heavy battering ram. The men in the second and third rows push against the backs of the men in the front, driving the entire mass forward like a solid wall of muscle and wood.

It is designed to push the enemy backward, crushing their bones and completely breaking their lines.

The rebel army began to march slowly down the flat beach. E

very time they took a step, 5,000 men beat the flats of their axes and swords against the back of their wooden shields.

"Look at them..." Halig muttered, standing next to Erik and gripping his mace axe tightly. "Are you sure our bullets can punch through all that overlapping wood?"

"They can punch through the wood." Erik said, his eyes locked on the slowly approaching shield wall. "But Halfdan is being smart. He is moving them slowly to keep the wall tight. If they charged wildly like they did on the icy slope, there would be gaps. But right now? There are no gaps."

As such, Erik knew he had to maximize his firepower. A flat beach was the worst place for a shield wall to attack an army with guns.

There were no trees to hide behind. There were no snowy ridges to use for cover. The rebels were completely exposed in the open.

"Torstein! Form the three-rank firing line!" Erik commanded loudly.

"First rank, kneel in the sand!" Torstein roared. "Second rank, crouch slightly! Third rank, stand tall and brace!"

The front row dropped to one knee, resting the wooden stocks of their muskets against their shoulders.

The second row bent their knees, aiming their iron barrels right over the heads of the first row. The third row stood straight, aiming over the second row.

Thus, a single, incredibly dense wall of 1,400 iron barrels was pointed directly at the advancing enemy. Every single gun had a completely clear line of sight.

"Bite the paper! Pour the powder! Ram the lead!" Torstein chanted the familiar loading drill.

"They are getting close, Erik." Halig warned, taking a half-step backward.

"Wait..." Erik whispered, raising his mace high into the air.

The rebel shield wall marched forward.

The faces of the furious exiles were barely visible through the tiny slits between their locked shields.

Halfdan was riding behind the wall, screaming at his men to keep their shields tight.

"Hold the line!" Torstein shouted to the kneeling musketeers. Some of the young soldiers were sweating despite the freezing cold, their fingers shaking slightly on the metal triggers.

50 paces.

"Now!" Erik roared, slashing his mace downward with all his strength. "FIRE!"

"FIRE!" Torstein echoed.

The entire beach completely exploded.

1,400 muskets discharged at the exact same fraction of a second.

The deafening thunder of the black powder completely drowned out the crashing ocean waves and the rhythmic beating of the rebel shields.

A massive, blinding flash of orange fire erupted from the Iron Kingdom line, instantly followed by a suffocating cloud of white sulfur smoke. The massive volley of heavy lead balls slammed into the rebel shield wall with the force of a hurricane.

The high-velocity lead punched right through the oak and thick leather, tearing into the flesh and bone of the men holding them.

Entire sections of the tight shield wall instantly collapsed as hundreds of rebel warriors were thrown violently backward onto the sand, screaming in pure agony.

"Reload! Do not stop!" Erik yelled into the thick smoke, coughing as the sulfur stung his lungs.

"Ram the powder! Fast, you lazy bastards!" Torstein screamed, kicking the sand to motivate the men.

Afterward, the white smoke slowly began to clear in the freezing sea breeze.

Erik squinted, expecting to see the entire rebel army completely broken and running back toward the trees.

But as the smoke lifted, Erik’s grin vanished.

"What the fucking hell..." Halig whispered, his jaw dropping open.

The rebel army had taken massive casualties. Hundreds of men were lying dead or dying in the bloody sand. But the shield wall had not broken. It had quickly reformed, the men in the back stepping forward over the bodies of their dead brothers to fill the gaps.

And they were still moving forward...

As Erik looked closely at the front row of the newly formed shield wall, he realized why the massive volley hadn’t stopped them completely.

"They picked up the ice..." Erik muttered.

When the rebels crossed the frozen lake earlier, they had seen the massive chunks of thick, shattered ice surrounding the hole where the Iron Kingdom soldiers had fallen.

Halfdan had ordered his strongest warriors to pick up those heavy slabs of frozen lake water.

Now, the front row of the rebel shield wall were holding massive blocks of solid ice in front of the wood.

When the muskets fired, the lead balls easily pierced the wood, but many of the bullets stopped when they hit the 10-inch thick blocks of solid ice.

The ice shattered and cracked, but it absorbed the deadly kinetic energy of the weapons.

"Keep marching!" Halfdan’s voice boomed over the groans of his dying men. "Their thunder is weak against the frozen water! Push them into the sea!"

The shield wall advanced again, stepping over the bloody sand.

40 paces.

"Torstein! Fire at will! Do not wait for the volley!" Erik screamed, "Tell the men to aim for their legs! Aim for the gaps!"

The Iron Kingdom line erupted into continuous gunfire. Small pockets of smoke puffed out from the line as individual musketeers reloaded and fired.

Some bullets found their mark, blowing the kneecaps off rebel warriors and causing them to drop their heavy ice shields. But there were simply too many of them.

The exiles were pushing forward with the desperate momentum of a cornered beast.

30 paces.

"They are too close, Erik!" Halig shouted, stepping in front of the King and raising his mace. "If they hit the gun line, our shooters won’t have the space to swing their maces!"

Though Erik had planned for a perfect firing squad, the sheer stubborn willpower of the old Viking ways was closing the distance.

"...to the front!" Erik roared, completely abandoning the musket strategy. There was no more time to reload. "Drop the guns! Draw the steel! Prepare to brace!"

The front two ranks of the musketeers threw their expensive Iron Kingdom guns directly into the sand. They reached down to their belts, drawing the heavy steel maces.

They stepped forward, forming a thin line of wool against the massive, approaching wall of wood.

20 paces.

The rebel warriors let out a battle cry, throwing their heavy blocks of shattered ice into the sand and raising their crude iron axes high into the air.

They abandoned the slow march and broke into a full, sprinting charge right at Erik’s face.

"Hold the line!" Erik screamed, raising his mace as the massive wave of angry Vikings crashed down upon them.

The collision was deafening. Wood splintered, steel clashed, and men screamed as the two armies smashed together on the freezing beach.

Erik ducked a wild swing from a massive farmer, driving his ,mace straight into the man’s stomach. Blood sprayed across Erik’s face, warm and sticky.

"Die!" a rebel screamed, lunging at Halig with a spear.

Halig caught the wooden shaft with his left hand and swung his axe with his right, burying it deep into the man’s neck.

The rebels pushed the Iron Kingdom soldiers backward, step by step, closer and closer to the crashing waves of the dark ocean.

Erik pulled his sword out of a falling rebel, breathing heavily. He looked over his shoulder.

The freezing water was only ten paces behind him. The 10 massive transport ships were right there, but they were completely useless now.

"Erik!" Halig yelled, "We are getting pushed into the sea!"

Erik gritted his teeth, parrying another sword thrust. He was completely surrounded by the bloody melee.

"Hold your ground!" Erik roared, kicking a rebel in the chest.

But as Erik looked past the fighting men, right at the back of the rebel army, he saw Halfdan sitting on his horse.

The old warlord wasn’t looking at the fight. Halfdan was looking out at the dark ocean, just past Erik’s transport ships.

...And Halfdan was smiling.

Erik quickly glanced over his shoulder, looking out at the freezing, open sea.

"What the hell is coming out of the fog...?" Erik gasped, his heart stopping in his chest as he stared at the dark horizon.