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Chapter 135 - Chapter 135: The Giant Squid

After resting for a day in Tyne Town, Bjorn's fleet left the harbor and followed the coastline to the Orkney Islands, where they unexpectedly ran into a one-eyed man who looked familiar.

"You… you are?"

"Helgi."

Bjorn slapped his thigh. "Right—you're Vig's brother-in-law. I've heard him mention your name."

The two chatted for a while. When Helgi learned that Bjorn intended to sail west of Iceland in search of unknown islands, he suddenly became interested and proposed joining the expedition.

With Bjorn's permission, Helgi brought nine of his crew aboard Bjorn's cog—the Explorer.

Before departing, he instructed his remaining sailors:

"Return to Skye. Send Britta and Leif to Glasgow, then travel overland to Tyne Town. Vig will take care of them."

Leaving Orkney, Bjorn's fleet headed north to the Shetland Islands, which—according to the recent peace agreement—fell under the jurisdiction of the Duke of Tyne Town.

When they docked on the main island, Bjorn noticed only a single black flag planted symbolically. Other than that, there were no soldiers, no officials, and no Tyne Town presence at all.

"Vig went to so much trouble to take this place… did he find some rare mineral deposits?"

Even the next day, as they set sail again, Bjorn was still trying to gather information. With unanswered questions on his mind, he decided that he would ask Vig directly the next time they met.

Four nights later, after dinner, Bjorn was playing board games with Helgi in the captain's cabin. Life at sea was dull; aside from gaming and chatting, the crew had few ways to pass the time.

Losing three games straight, Bjorn completely lost confidence. Stretching lazily, he went up to the deck to check on the night watch.

Normally, a cog merchant ship required about twenty crew:

a captain

a helmsman

sailors (to adjust the sails, load/unload cargo, and row when necessary)

a cook

and a carpenter.

With Helgi's men added, the Explorer carried a total of thirty people. Bjorn organized them into five groups of six, rotating through night watch shifts to prevent unexpected accidents.

After strolling along the deck, Bjorn shook awake three dozing sailors. According to the rules, they would lose their daily ration of ale and would have to scrub the deck the next morning.

"Captain, no need to be so strict, right? We're west of Shetland—far from any shipping routes. There's no way pirates could show up."

"Rules are rules," Bjorn growled. "Even without pirates, we might run into something else—floating icebergs, for instance. Better safe than sorry!"

After a few curses, he yawned and turned toward the cabin.

But then he froze.

His sailors' faces had gone pale as chalk. They pointed toward the sea beside the starboard rail.

"C-Captain… you jinxed us. There's a sea monster!"

Bjorn whipped his head around.

Beneath the surface drifted a long, massive shadow—far too slender to be a whale.

The shadow drew closer to the Explorer.

Before anyone could react, the sea erupted into a spray of white foam. Three tentacles—thick, long, and covered with suckers—speared up from the waves like writhing serpents, flinging brine in all directions.

Confronted with a creature none of them had ever seen, the sailors froze in pure terror—everyone except Bjorn. He snatched up a four-meter oar and slammed it down with full force.

"Valhalla!"

The oar struck the nearest tentacle. Its surface was slick and slimy, gleaming under the moonlight with a strange, viscous sheen.

The creature went berserk.

Three more tentacles burst from the water, whipping toward the floating cog and trying to smash it apart.

After a heavy impact, the oar slipped from Bjorn's grip and splashed into the sea. Searching desperately for another weapon, he saw the sailors still standing motionless.

"What are you waiting for? The gods don't welcome cowards into Valhalla!"

No response. They just stood there, stupefied, leaving Bjorn alone to battle this monstrous abomination.

Bang!

A few more blows landed. The Explorer's sail was torn open, and Bjorn stumbled to the deck. As the sucker-covered tentacles closed in, he instinctively drew his iron axe, ready to strike back before dying.

Then—

Whoosh—

A crossbow bolt hissed past his ear and embedded itself in one of the thick tentacles. The tentacle writhed violently in pain. A second bolt struck, and the appendage instantly recoiled beneath the waves—as if nothing had happened at all.

"You still alive?" Helgi asked, approaching with a loaded crossbow and checking Bjorn for wounds.

"I—I'm fine. Thanks for saving my life. I almost became food for a kraken!"

Helgi lowered the crossbow, uncertain.

"Uh… that didn't seem like a sea monster. More like a very large marine creature."

Bjorn's eyes bulged. "You've seen one before?!"

"No. But I heard Vig mention something like it. He said the North Sea has a giant squid species—'colossal squid'—with a length equal to three to ten grown men. Looks like we ran into an especially large one… not sure if that's bad luck or good luck."

Helgi paused, then added:

"Vig also said that colossal squid are the main prey of sperm whales. My guess? It mistook the Explorer for a big, threatening whale and thought we were going to eat it. So it attacked in self-defense."

Hearing that this explanation came from Vig, Bjorn didn't know what to say.

"…Fine. Since it's the words of the 'Chosen One,' I'll accept it."

The rest of the voyage was calm. The Explorer and the five longships eventually reached Iceland.

When they came ashore, the crew immediately told everyone about their ordeal—claiming the "kraken" had dozens of tentacles, which rose in perfect unison and even blotted out the moon.

Hearing such fantastical tales, the waiting families were terrified and insisted that continuing westward was a terrible idea.

Under their pressure, the Explorer's crew withdrew one after another, infuriating Bjorn.

After three days of threats and persuasion, he finally assembled a new expedition team of forty men. Their supplies and ale would last forty days.

"Set sail! The gods are watching us!"

At Bjorn's command, the crew turned the capstan, lifted the anchor, and steered the ship into unknown waters.

During the years Bjorn had lived in Iceland, three separate fishing boats had claimed to see the unnamed island, each reporting a different location.

Taking this into account, the island must be large. If they simply sailed due west, even drifting slightly off course would not cause them to miss it.

At noon, Bjorn stood on the stern deck, using assorted tools to measure their heading. After marking the course on the map, he explained to Helgi:

"The direction is correct. Another eight to ten days and we should reach the shoreline. Finding the island is easy—the real challenge will be locating a fjord where we can shelter from storms."

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