The fighting grounds

Freja was more concerned when it came to Aragon, as he was her only family, and she had done all she could for him and provided him with enough to grow.

Leaving the house, Aragon walked towards the grounds. As all of their houses were built in a hilly area, the ground was in a low area where the surface was flat and had enough space for them. It had been several years since he had come here. Upon entering the grounds, Aragon saw that most of the members present were young ones, ranging from 15 to their twenties, with a few others around 30 present to oversee them to prevent serious injuries. After all, the young ones would be the next warriors of the tribe.

The ground had only one wooden cabin, with two or three people sitting there, uninterested in what was happening on the ground. A group of young men surrounded, forming a circle, with two already fighting. Aragon often stayed reclusive and just watched the fights, so he did not know anyone. He made his way into the circle and got a view of the fight, which had already reached its end. A young man without a shirt had punched another on the left side of his face, causing him to fall down. The young man had blood on both of his hands and was shouting, "Yeahhh!"

"You fucking cunt, you dare challenge me, the great Ivar," yelled Ivar at the passed-out young man. He didn't have many wounds, only a few bruises here and there. His brown hair was all over his shoulders and messed up. "Hehe," he was laughing frantically. "Anyone up for one more round?" he said, brimming with a creepy smile. He had already made the two boys into a bloody pulp. As they saw what happened to the other two, they were too scared to challenge him.

But then a voice was heard, a bit feminine but loud enough to reach everyone's ears. "Ivar," said the voice. Aragon watched Ivar as he stared at the crowd, then turned in the direction of where the voice came from. He saw a girl sitting near the wooden cabin. She wore a jacket-like shirt with half sleeves and a skirt that covered slightly above the knees, revealing her tanned long legs. Her red hair was long, down to her waist. She seemed to be in her early twenties, with a height of about 170cm.

She stood up and walked towards Ivar, displaying her figure, which made the young men drool for her. While everyone was staring at her, she was completely calm. "Oh, Asdis! Hehehe. Come, come," giggled Ivar upon seeing her. "I want to fight you. And if I win today, the talk of marriage between us is over," said Asdis, looking at Ivar with a hint of coldness and hatred in her voice.

"What? But why? I think I am the only one who is capable of marrying you, though," pursed Ivar's lips in irritation. "Asshole, wipe that disgusting smile and fight me," she said, getting into position. She was standing opposite Ivar at a two-hands length.