Stone ceiling, stone walls, and cool temperatures. The High King of Ireland, Brian Boru, sat with grace. His Highness came from a long line of High Kings, or so legends claim. In reality, there was no such justification or lineage. Historians declared the stories of a long, everlasting dynasty as fabrications.

However, if there was a man that was allowed to take up the mantle of High King, then it would be Brian Boru. His rule was disputed many times. Not everyone acknowledged his worth and law, yet nonetheless, when the word High King entered the academic sphere it was always Brian Boru that came to the forefront.

He was a boy that grew up with war. A boy that went from being one of twelve sons to the dominator of the land. He mastered the battle-axe. He avenged his brothers. He learned to read and conduct politics. He was indisputably Ireland’s greatest king. Thus, even in old age he spoke with regal vigour.

“Warriors from the world beyond.” High King Brian’s voice echoed through the throne room. “I am the High King of Éire. I am Brian Boru, the divine messenger that seeks your aid.”

Several knights were by the king’s side. Closest to the king was Marchad, who Kazi identified as Brian’s son. There was Toirdelbach, a younger man that he recognized as a grandson. Máel Sechnail, Mael Ruanaidh Ua hEidhin, and Tadhg Ua Cellaigh, all names listed within Irish literature describing the battle of Clontarf. Some of them were kings yet all of them were important.

“Our enemies are great in number. We have been fighting for years and now an alliance has come up against us of the Éire: the King of Dublin Sigtrygg Silkbeard; Máel Mórda mac Murchada, King of Leinster; and a Viking army from abroad led by Sigurd of Orkney and Brodir of Mann.”

“We can also surmise that the enemy has also summoned warriors from other worlds.” Murchad mac Briain stepped forward with a hardened face and two swords at his waist. “We already have over five thousand strong men. Now, tell me, who will join us!? Who among you will help protect our lands from these invaders!?”

A Templar by the name of Cillian stepped forward. “We Templars will.” He wasn’t loud but his declaration echoed through the halls. “We are one hundred men strong,” he said. “Will that suffice?”

“Anyone else!?” Murchad Briain possessed the voice of will that his father, the High King, lacked.

“We’re the Maccabees. We will help too.”

“Red Dragons here! We are from Wales! We will help you!”

All the guild representatives began to raise their voices, one by one. Speaking over each other, slightly awkward, but every bit as eager. Kazi counted ten guild representatives.

‘There’s not nearly enough players on our side. I doubt they would make the battle so uneven. My best guess is that they are outside. Someplace close but not too close.’ He snorted to himself. ‘If that’s the case, this castle is about to get crowded.’

Kazi’s assumption was proven correct some minutes later. The Justice Sect led the way, adding fifty players, followed by another fifty from the Orthodox Sect.

***

It was April 22, 1014. The Holy Week was upon them, the most sacred week of the Christian calendar, yet here everyone was, cooped up in a war room. Representatives of ten guilds and kings of Irish regions.

Kazi and Willaim were not among those in the war room. The pair were outside, exploring the old village of Kilmainham. In today’s world, it was a simple suburb. Peaceful. Nothing like it was in the tenth century where war had corrupted it and soldiers were running amuck.

Camps littered the place. The locals were forced to serve food and shelter. While well over a hundred players had been summoned to the main castle, the remaining players had spawned in the village, confused.

Coincidentally, a player spawned two feet away. A player with an unknown level, a suit, and long dreaded hair that was instantly recognizable.

“Oh, Booker! Hey there!” Kazi jogged over to him. “You’re a little late.”

“Oh.” Booker looked up at his name. “Kazi. Good to see you. What’s going on?”

“We’re at the Battle of Clontarf. It’s a half civil-war, half actual-war between the Irish High King and the King of Dublin which is—

Booker’s face scrunched up in disgust. He cut Kazi off and said, “A war? This isn't what I signed up for.” He shook his head. “I’m leaving. Bye.”

“Uh…” William trailed off as Booker turned around and walked off. He didn’t even go for shelter. “That’s one less man in the army,” William joked.

‘Too bad. Booker would have been useful to have around.’

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Kazi glanced at the stables, which were hourded by the Templars, then the camps. The guilds and the Irish forces were divided. Summoned at random, united by a common goal, and waiting for their leaders to give them orders, it wasn’t the ideal situation. The camps extended to outside Kilmainham. Hundreds upon thousands of soldiers and men.

‘There’s too many soldiers in this village. I think I already know what they’re planning.’

Kazi visualized a map of County Dublin in Ireland. It was in the east section, populated, and in the year 1014 the neighbour to Leinster, the enemy king’s territory. Luckily and unluckily, Donnchad, one of Brian’s sons, had sacked Leinster. That forced the king to push his forces deeper into County Dublin. Put simply, this was enemy territory. Kilmainham was west of Dublin City (the capital of the county). Given the sheer number of soldiers at their disposal, they would avoid the capital and go up north, cross River Liffey, and plunder Finegall. Following Finegall, they would take a sharp east turn and make their way to Howth and plunder that area.

In the end, they would go back west and south and meet the army down at Clontarf. That was when the true battle began.

‘East of Clontarf is Dublin Bay, where the vikings will come sailing on their ships.’

The reason why they didn’t attack from their current position was because it was impossible to win. There were walls and readied arms at the capital. However, by going up north and attacking from that direction, they would encounter Dubgall's Bridge which directly led to the capital.

The main point of contention was Dugball’s Bridge. Once it was crossed, victory would be in their grasp.

That was what the individuals at the war room likely assumed too. Kazi got a good look at the players that were representing each guild. He sincerely doubted any of them knew the intricacies of Irish history. Even if they did, knowing the specifics of this battle was next to impossible. Depending on the level of the study, they might go along with the instated plan simply due to already knowing that the Irish would win.

But it would take just one person from the enemy side to destroy that confidence and history. One person.

“Are you alright?” William asked. “You’ve been standing there for a good minute.”

“Sorry. Trying to come up with a strategy here. Issue is that I need to get into the war room and I doubt they’re going to allow that so easily.” A castle that was not supposed to exist yet did due to the creative liberties the architects of Heavenly Tower took. If he went through by force, it wouldn’t be a good look. Any attempt to reason with the guards would be futile. Other players had already tried. “Let’s go to the camps. There might be someone that can help us out.”

Kazi sought someone with strong allies and a dash of charisma. Someone that would garner the attention of the guilds. Someone whose speaking skills nearly rivalled his own.

Eventually, he found someone at the outskirts of the village. Not too far and not too close, it was a woman that was surrounded by twenty-five players. A pretty blonde that was leading a guild through sweet words and great confidence.

“Oh, hi! Is there something you need?”

Lush blonde hair that reached her waist and a corset highlighted in purple metal with a long black skirt. Her big blue eyes brightened up at him and she smiled with dimples. Her name was Samantha and despite being Level 15 she was a magnet.

‘Level 15, Level 17, Level 19, and…’ Kazi’s gaze flickered over to a young man in a skull mask. ‘Level 22. Strong.’

“Teammates or guild?” Kazi asked.

Samantha tilted her head innocently. “I’m the leader of this guild, yes. Freshly made.” She giggled and stood up. “We call ourselves…the Children of Athena! No actual affiliation with Athena though.”

A second cute giggle. Kazi found himself liking her. She knew her strengths and she catered to them well.

William was caught in it. “Hi, I’m William.”

“Good to meet you, William.” She blinked twice and put a hand over her mouth, her head pointing up. “Wow, you are tall!”

“Thanks.” William sheepishly rubbed his head.

“You have a lot of people,” Kazi noted out loud. “How about a temporary truce?” he asked.

“For what exactly? I’m not following.” Her smile implied she was listening though.

“I want to get to the war room with the High King and the representatives.”

“Ah, the room with the big guys? Ha, just getting out was a mess,” Samantha said, shaking her head. “Must have taken half an hour for everyone to leave and get organized. I almost lost Dee over here.”

Dee was the Level 19 player. Young but built like an athlete, a spear stabbed in the ground beside her, and donned in shiny chainmail armour. Upon a second look, he realized he knew Dee: she participated in the 2020 Olympics in javelin throwing for Australia. She got a bronze medal if his memory served him correctly, which it always did.

Kazi wore a jolly smile and sat down on the grass. A leg stretched out, a knee raised, and an arm on said knee, he presented himself as cool and amicable. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. I’m sure you understand by now that the Heavenly Games are based on real life events or mythology. History books can really help us.”

“History books,” Samantha muttered. “Ah! We can message players outside and tell them to—”

“Nope, good idea but already tried that. There’s no messaging allowed once you’re here.”

Samantha attempted to message anyway. She received the same box he did.

[ Messaging features have been disabled for Gate 10! ]

“Darn it.” Samantha pursed her lips. “So, what’s your idea?”

“Luckily, I’ve studied this battle and I know how it’s going to go. It’s called the Battle of Clontarf of 1014. Feel that weather? It’s spring. Specifically, April 22nd, one day before we march and battle. If we want to limit casualties, then we need everyone on board, whether it be the Templars or rogue players. To do that, all I need is some backing. I need to be in the war room.”

If enough people come together, then even the Templars could be swayed.

From the moment he laid eyes on her, he understood the type of person Samantha was. Ambitious, clean, and manipulative. The type to get what she wanted. The type to win no matter what. A small fish in a small pond.

‘Everyone has noticed the calculations in our objectives, but what does it mean? In her mind, I’m sure it refers to contribution. The larger your contribution to this battle, the more XP and points you receive.’

“That’s a really good idea.” Samantha looked to her friends. “What do you think, everyone? Should we try and take him to the room?”

“We should hear his plan first,” Skullmask said. Because yes, that was his name. A bit too on the nose, frankly.

“Fair enough.” Kazi’s smile became a point of light. “There's a river east of here…”