Chapter 23: The Divide, Praise and Scorn

The snow swirled gently over the battlefield, a stark contrast to the tension hanging heavy in the air. Ragnar Bloodshade pushed himself up from the ground, his massive frame trembling as he struggled to stand. His once-imposing aura was dimmed, and the black energy that had surrounded him was reduced to faint flickers. Blood seeped from cuts on his face and arms, staining the snow beneath him. Each breath he took was labored a sharp reminder of the overwhelming power he had just faced.

Gabriel stood calmly, his radiant wings folded slightly behind him. His pale eyes regarded Ragnar with a mix of curiosity and detachment, as though assessing whether the barbarian leader would rise again or crumble under the weight of his defeat.

Ragnar growled low in his throat, his crimson eyes locking onto Gabriel. "This… isn't over…" he muttered, his voice strained. His knees buckled slightly, but he forced himself upright, planting his massive Warhammer into the snow to steady himself.

Gabriel's gaze remained steady, his voice calm but firm. "You've lost, Ragnar. Do you truly believe that standing again will change the outcome?"

The barbarian leader clenched his teeth, blood dripping from his lips. "A leader… does not kneel…"

Gabriel tilted his head slightly, his expression almost pitying. "A leader who refuses to see the truth condemns not only himself but those who follow him."

Gabriel's wings extended fully, their radiant glow casting a warm light over the battlefield. He rose into the air with effortless grace, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. The Vikings on the wall watched in stunned silence, their weapons hanging limply in their hands. Even those among the barbarian horde who hadn't yet faltered stared up at him, their expressions a mix of awe and confusion.

Hovering above the battlefield, Gabriel's voice rang out, clear and strong. "To the barbarians who stand before me, I see you. Not all of you are here by choice. Not all of you carry the same darkness as your leader. Those who have been forced into this war, who wish to live and return to their families, I offer you a chance."

He paused, his pale eyes sweeping over the sea of warriors. "Surrender now. Lay down your weapons and kneel before me, and your lives will be spared. You will not be harmed, and you will be free to leave this place."

The murmurs among the barbarians began almost immediately, whispers of disbelief rippling through their ranks. Gabriel raised a hand, silencing them.

"But know this," he continued, his tone sharp. "I can see into your hearts. I can feel the weight of your sins. If you think to deceive me, to kneel in surrender while harboring evil intent, you will not live to see another day."

Ragnar staggered forward, his voice rising in defiance. "Don't listen to him! He's a liar! A trickster! We are warriors, not cowards! Stand and fight!"

But his words fell on deaf ears. Among the horde, many of the warriors exchanged uneasy glances. Some looked at their bloodstained weapons, their hands trembling as they considered Gabriel's offer. Others turned to the towering siege engines, now useless against the invisible barrier that had protected the village.

Finally, one barbarian stepped forward. He was a younger man, his armor mismatched and worn, his face pale with fear. Dropping his axe, he fell to his knees in the snow, his head bowed. "I surrender."

His actions sparked a wave of movement. Another warrior followed, then another, until a significant portion of the horde began laying down their weapons. Almost half of the barbarian army moved toward Gabriel, their eyes cast downward as they knelt in the snow.

As the surrendering barbarians gathered before Gabriel, their voices rose in unison, murmuring words of thanks and reverence.

"You saved us," one of them said, his voice shaking. "You gave us a choice."

"Thank you, my lord," another added, his hands clasped together in prayer.

The words spread through the kneeling crowd, growing louder as more warriors joined. "Praise him. He is sent from the heavens. He is our salvation."

Gabriel remained silent, his expression unreadable as he watched the scene unfold. His wings arched slightly, the light around him pulsing faintly. To the kneeling barbarians, it was a sign of divinity.

But among those who remained standing with Ragnar, the mood was far darker.

The loyalists who had refused to surrender erupted in anger, their shouts filled with venom.

"Traitors!" one roared, his grip tightening on his spear. "You disgrace us all!"

Another snarled, pointing a shaking finger at Gabriel. "You'll burn for this, God or not. No one defies Ragnar!"

Gabriel turned his gaze toward the dissenters, his pale eyes narrowing slightly. He could feel it—the darkness that clung to them like a second skin. These were not men forced into battle or desperate for survival. These were men who reveled in bloodshed, who carried the weight of countless sins.

"You curse me," Gabriel said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "Yet it is not I who condemned you. Your choices brought you here."

From the walls of Skjoldheim, the Viking warriors watched in silence. Eirik stood at the forefront, his green eyes fixed on the scene below. He had seen many battles in his lifetime, but this was something entirely different.

"Almost half of them surrendered," Eirik said quietly, his tone tinged with disbelief. "What kind of power does he hold to make them kneel so willingly?"

Haldor, standing beside him, leaned heavily on his staff. "It's not just his power," the elder said. "It's his presence. He carries an authority that cannot be denied."

One of the younger warriors behind them spoke up, his voice shaky. "Should we… should we go down there? Help him?"

Eirik shook his head. "No. Not yet. Let him finish what he started."

Amid the chaos, Ragnar's fury reached its peak. His crimson eyes burned brighter, the black energy around him surging as he staggered forward. "You dare take my men from me?" he snarled. "You dare speak as though you have the right to judge us?"

Gabriel descended slowly, his feet touching the snow once more. He turned to Ragnar, his expression calm but unyielding. "I don't need to judge you. Your actions speak for themselves."

Ragnar roared, his voice filled with rage and pain. "I will not bow to you!"

Gabriel sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Then your path is clear."

As Gabriel stood at the center of the battlefield, the barbarians who had surrendered knelt in the snow, their voices rising in praise. Those who remained loyal to Ragnar seethed with anger, their hatred for Gabriel burning brighter with every passing moment.

The Vikings on the walls watched in silence, their thoughts a mix of awe, confusion, and anticipation. For now, the battle was at a standstill, but the tension was far from over.

Gabriel's pale eyes scanned the crowd once more, his voice quiet but firm. "The choice has been made. What happens next is up to you."

The snow continued to fall, blanketing the battlefield in a fragile peace that could shatter at any moment.