Upon spotting the sudden arrival of the enemy forces, the citizens of Stockholm were terrified, spontaneously surging onto the palisades to prepare for battle.
Funded by the Norwegians, the Allied Forces not only received large quantities of arms and provisions, but also acquired a group of skilled craftsmen. These artisans guided the various towns in improving their defensive structures. Palisades, arrow towers, and deep moats were all readily available, drastically increasing their defensive capabilities.
"Look closely. The structural style of the palisades and the width of the moats in both Stockholm and Kalmar are exactly the same. Someone is definitely pulling strings in the shadows."
Niels sighed with emotion for a moment before arranging for his men to build a siege camp, creating the illusion of a massive impending assault.
Word quickly spread throughout Sweden. The nobles scrambled to dispatch reinforcements, vowing to annihilate this expeditionary force.
In early September, countless militiamen arrived in massive droves from all directions to assemble. As the war progressed to this point, the Swedish nobles intended to deal with this expeditionary force once and for all. They planned to capture the third prince, Halfdan, divide the iron armor of the Royal Guard to boost their own combat power, and then use Halfdan as a bargaining chip to negotiate with Ragnar, forcing the latter to compromise.
Heavily outnumbered, Niels's response was a strategy of besieging the city to strike the reinforcements.
Niels ordered his deputy commander Oleg to lead fifteen hundred men to hold the line at the siege camp to keep up appearances, while he personally led a thousand men to roam the surrounding area. Within five days, he defeated seven waves of enemy forces in succession and even beheaded five nobles.
"Your Highness, it seems you have thoroughly offended the locals over the years, provoking them to the point where they would rather delay their crop harvests just to fight you to the death."
Faced with the teasing, Halfdan did not react much, silently wiping the blade of his sword. Having been mocked so many times, his personality had gradually become more restrained. He began to calm his mind and observe Niels's tactics, resulting in a slight improvement in his command skills.
Through the battles over the past few days, he had finally learned how to deploy scouts during a march, how to choose locations for an ambush, and how to factor in the terrain when forming battle arrays.
The more he learned of such things, the more inadequate Halfdan felt. After a particular battle ended, taking advantage of Niels's good mood, he handed over two seized bags of mead and flattered the latter's commanding abilities, intending to coax out more knowledge.
"Hic... It is nothing much, really. After fighting wars for over a decade, one is bound to grasp a few concepts. Viggo, Ivar, and Gunnar are the same, except they have better natural talent and comprehended far more ideas. I am slightly worse off, but it is enough to deal with these country barbarians."
Fueled by the alcohol, Niels shifted to critiquing Halfdan's flaws:
"You have experienced too few wars. First, you missed the Battle of Northumbria. Then, when the Mercia-Wessex war broke out, you stayed by Ragnar's side, drinking and boasting with a bunch of guards all day, throwing away that opportunity for nothing.
"Later, when the war in West Francia erupted, you were absent again. You ran off to the Welsh mountains to pick up scraps, only to be beaten black and blue by the opposition. Sigh, you never witnessed the decisive battle along the River Seine. Even now, recalling it sends a lingering fear through my heart."
Under the setting sun, the vegetation was bathed in a dusky yellow. A flock of ravens circled in the sky above, and a gentle breeze carrying the scent of the wheat fields brushed past their ears. Niels spread his arms wide, as if trying to embrace the entire world before him.
"The whole world was filled with people. To the east was the Frankish army's formation, and to the west was ours, a total of seventeen thousand soldiers. Standing right in the middle of the formation, I felt that everywhere in front of me and behind me was teeming with silhouettes. It was boundless and endless, completely lacking any horizon."
Over the years, Halfdan had heard of the Battle of the River Seine countless times, but only this version belonged to Niels's personal experience, devoid of any exaggeration. Listening to it made his face turn pale, and a long-lost trace of fear sprouted from the depths of his heart.
'If I were placed in the positions of Viggo, Ivar, or Gunnar, what would the outcome be?'
Halfdan's voice was hoarse as he asked, "If you fought against Viggo, what would your chances of winning be?"
"Four to six. I am not as good as him, but it is not like I have absolutely no chance."
Halfdan continued to press, "If you had me as support, could the win rate be any higher?" By this point, Niels was dead drunk and burst into loud laughter at these words. "To tell you the truth, the discipline of the Berserkers is far too poor. They excel at harassing villagers and terrorizing the innocent, but they are completely unsuited for large-scale warfare. If we factor in you and that bunch of pelt-wearing idiots, my odds of winning against Viggo would probably drop to three to seven."
'Does he really look down on me this much?'
In an instant, the goodwill that had just begun to rise in Halfdan's heart was rapidly extinguished. He forced himself to remain calm and murmured a few words of agreement, silently vowing that in the years to come, he would concentrate on studying the art of war, defeat Viggo, Gunnar, Niels, and the others one by one, and become the undisputed overlord of the entire Viking world.
As time passed, the various reinforcing armies remained completely unable to coordinate with each other. Niels seized the opportunity to ruthlessly strike them while they were down, accumulating a total of five captured nobles and a thousand prisoners.
Witnessing the terrifying combat power of the Royal Guard, the high command of the Allied Forces was frightened out of their wits. They convened in Uppsala to the north and decided upon a temporary truce.
Five days later, an envoy entered the siege camp south of Stockholm.
"General, the harsh winter is approaching. It would be better to temporarily cease hostilities so everyone can return home to harvest crops and repair their roofs, lest they freeze and starve to death during the winter. In exchange for the captured nobles and militiamen, we are willing to withdraw from Gothenburg and hand over ten Knarr ships anchored in the port of Gothenburg, along with the captured sailors."
Niels demanded, "Where are the rest of the Viking longships?"
"Sold, to purchase provisions and armaments. The ten Knarr ships are incredibly valuable, and each has been registered in Londinium. The merchants feared that purchasing the Knarr ships would anger Ragnar, so they gave up on buying them."
Niels was somewhat swayed by this truce agreement. He temporarily dismissed the envoy and spoke to the others inside the tent, "We wasted far too much time previously. The so-called conquest will just have to wait until next year."
To persuade Halfdan into agreeing, he expended a fair bit of extra breath. "The biggest reason I was able to conquer Denmark was that the local nobles were completely off guard. They had no time to conscript their local militia, and as a result, they were beaten to death by my flurry of punches.
"Sweden is different. The Swords of the North have stirred up widespread public outrage everywhere. Because the delay was too long, they made preparations for war well in advance and even received aid from Norway, massively elevating their defensive capabilities across the board. There is nothing else we can do. We must write a letter to Londinium and wait for His Majesty to make the final decision."
The following day, Deputy Commander Oleg, acting as the representative, personally traveled to Uppsala to sign the truce agreement.
For the longest time, Uppsala had been the holy site of Nordic polytheism. In its core area stood a towering wooden temple with a sloping roof and a high tower. Its overall style was black, and its height was equivalent to roughly seven grown men.
"Compared to the stone temples of Britain, it ultimately falls a bit short."
In recent years, Londinium and Teyne Town had successively built stone temples. Modeled after the original monastery designs, they lacked a bit of ferocity but possessed a far greater sense of solemn dignity, completely overpowering the traditional holy sites of Northern Europe in terms of sheer presence.
Harboring deep contempt for the local nobility, Oleg walked into the interior of the temple with his head held high. Under the witness of the gods, the two parties finalized the temporary truce.
Carrying their prisoners and scavenged provisions, the Royal Guard returned to the long-departed Gothenburg. After releasing the captives, Halfdan took over this desolate, silent settlement from the hands of the Allied Forces.