The moment Dubgall's Bridge came into view, Dasha Pang understood that something was very wrong.
Dasha left Kilmainham and went north till he encountered River Liffey. After that, it was a matter of going east and reaching the bridge. He expected loud, bloody violence. What he heard instead were the grunts and screams of a dozen or two. A clash hardly reflective of history and the thousands that participated.
Dubgall's Bridge was where men of Connacht fought the men of Dublin. According to the book of Cogad, one hundred Connachtmen and twenty Dublinmen survived. This was not that. It was as though the Irish had breached the gates of Dublin City before the Dublins were able to amass an army on the bridge and what remained was the chaos of war.
To his left was the river which carried the corpses of both sides. He noted that the Vikings wore mail whereas the Irish did not. To compensate, the Irish and Scottish wielded spears and relied on their numbers advantage. Murchad, son of the High King, was also supposed to be on the bridge, fighting till his last breath. Looking at the bridge, which had no railings, he was able to see the named fighters.
‘Murchad is not here.’ Instead, the individuals that remained were supporting minor characters within the Battle of Clontarf. ‘Domnall mac Eimín, a Scottish ally of Brian; and Plait, bravest knight of all the foreigners. It was said the two killed each other.’
Domnall and Plait were engaged in fierce combat, weapons hacking at the other’s armour as they forgoed defences. Domnall’s spear managed to pierce Plait’s side, but it wasn’t enough to keep the brave knight down.
The Seven-league Boots gave a spring in his step akin to teleportation. One second, he was walking alongside the river and in the next he was on the bridge. Foundation Establishment (Late Stage) increased all stats by one hundred and fifty points. Strength, resilience, agility, deftness, vitality, magical might, and magical mending, all of it was propelled by both his equipment and his own abilities. Magical energy crackled from every fiber of his being and the twenty-some warriors engaged in combat froze.
Thor’s gauntlets, Járngreipr, were intended for the god of lightning. Dasha himself wielded the fire element, yet due to Jack’s mask, darkness was also mixed in. Together, his mana amounted to flickers of black lightning and wisps of dark fire. Simply speaking caused an echo.
“Domnall mac Eimin. Move aside.”
The objective of the gate stated that it was still calculating XP and PP. If it worked like he thought it did, then that meant that killing his own teammates would knock off points. Domnall, an auburn-haired man gulped and did as he was told. That exposed the stunned expression of his enemy, Plait. Dasha casually walked up to him.
[ Name: Plait the Bravest Knight
Level: 22
Class: Amateur Swordsman]
“Your name is Plait,” Dasha stated. Surprise crossed his features and the knight shifted his feet back. “The bravest knight of this era…I wonder just how far your bravery can carry you.”
“What…?” Plait inhaled and readied his sword.
“According to the history books, you were supposed to have died at the beginning of this battle. The first casualty alongside Domnall. I’m glad that didn’t happen.” Dasha raised a hand and closed it into a fist, the crackling of lightning growing louder. “I need something to test my strength against. Try not to break until I’m finished.”
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“You—”
The foreign Viking was cut off as Dasha grabbed him by the throat, slowly lifting him. “Too slow. Do better.” He tossed him forward and waited for him to scramble to his feet. A roar echoed through the bridge as Plait fearlessly swung his sword at him.
Clang!
The sword struck his side and did absolutely nothing. Dasha’s defence was over seven hundred, whereas Plait’s attack points were under a hundred. It was the mismatch of the century and everyone in the surrounding area instantly recognized that.
All except Plait who recklessly kept swinging at him.
“Haa! Ha!” Clang! Clang! “Hya!”
Minutes passed and Dasha didn’t move an inch. He waited and waited and waited, until Plait was out of breath.
“Are you done?” Dasha asked. Plait glared up at him. “That’s good. I thought for a second you had lost your courage. Try this.”
He lifted a hand, pressed his middle finger to his thumb, and did an upside flick to his heart. If it was any other player, that attack would have done nothing, but Dasha with his equipment and higher level of cultivation blew him away. Plait rolled over several times, reaching the south end of the bridge towards Dublin City.
“Oh?” Dasha put an arm in his gi, watching Plait cough and sputter. “Looks like I have enough control. I tried it with another player. I hope he lives, if only so that I don’t lose points.”
None of these people were real. It didn’t matter if he talked or not, their feeble existences were going to end as soon as the raid ended. It was like playing with ants. Tomorrow, he would remember them as experiments, as a learning experience.
Boom!
“Hm?” Dasha looked up and saw what he assumed were glamorous fireworks, T-shaped and coloured like the sun at sunrise. A mixture of red, orange, and yellow that swirled together for a greater beauty. Dasha was in awe for a moment. Then, in the next few seconds, darkness clashed against the wonderful light.
Again and again and again, darkness and light clashed. ‘What is going on there?’ It was five or six kilometres away, far beyond the scope of his Qi Sensing. From here, on the bridge, he was only able to glean the situation through observation alone. Something was amiss. The city was further away from Dubgall's Bridge than he thought. ‘Is that really Dublin City? Not only is it farther away than the history books suggest, but there's red fog covering it. I want to see what’s going on but…’
“Hya!”
Plait swung his sword at him and Dasha stopped it with a single finger. “I still have to play with you.”
“What did you—ugh!” In one quick, unavoidable move, Dasha kicked his leg off. A sweep that for a human would have tripped their opponent up. For Dasha, he blasted Plait’s leg right from its joints and caused a scream. Plait nearly fell and was only able to keep himself upright by Dasha’s assistance.
“Keep yourself steady.” Dasha pulled him by his collar. He collected the collective Qi in his body into his palm. “Heaven’s Command…Celestial End.”
In a single strike, he left a hole in Plait’s shoulder. An attack of pure focus capable of annihilating anything in its path.
“The principle is the same but this isn't it. Pure power isn't what his attacks were doing. I feel something is missing.” Dasha frowned. “I suppose thinking observation alone would let me imitate the Emperor’s attacks was too much.”
“Haa…haa…” Plait struggled to breath, his HP inching towards the red. Blood seeped down from the massive bite-sized hole on his shoulder, his eyes rolling back as sensation left him.
“Open inventory.” Dasha took out two bottles of B-ranked healing elixirs and shoved it down his throat. Plait choked but was forced to drink anyway, the green liquid trickling from his mouth. “I told you, I’m going to be playing with you for a little while. Try not to die. Oh, and if you can, tell me how it feels. I’m a scientist, I appreciate the experiences of my test subjects.”
Horror appeared in Plait’s as he realized that Dasha wouldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t grant him a warrior’s death like Dumgall would. He was going to keep him alive until his curiosity was sated.
Past Dasha’s shoulder, Plait saw his sworn enemy: Domnall. He begged him to help him. Through the reflection of his pupil, Dasha noticed Domnall had looked away.
Dasha almost thought his reaction was amusing. Enemies and allies alike knew that no matter what inhumane act he committed, Dasha was going to get what he wanted and there wasn't a damn thing they could do about it.