Reincarnated In Vikings

The peak of the mountain stretched into a world above the clouds, a surreal place where the wind whispered secrets of the gods. Merlin and Horus stood side by side, the heavens casting an ethereal glow on the monumental structure before them.

The gate was immense—a massive, circular construct that loomed with an aura of divine purpose. Its diameter spanned at least 20 feet (6 meters), its thick outer ring exuding both strength and timelessness. The material appeared otherworldly, a fusion of stone and metal with a matte grayish-blue hue, as though forged from the very essence of creation. Ancient etchings wove intricate patterns across its surface, telling silent stories of forgotten eras. The engravings pulsed faintly with an inner light, as if alive, waiting.

Merlin's voice broke the reverent silence. "So this is the Gate to Ra's home?"

Horus, his piercing gaze fixed on the gate, nodded solemnly. "Yes. This is more than a gate to my grandfather's domain—it connects to the Duat and the afterlife itself. All pantheons possess such gates, a nexus between realms. The Norse used theirs to traverse their so-called Nine Realms."

Merlin's eyes gleamed with curiosity, his fingers itching to trace the ancient runes. Before he could ask another question, both he and Horus tensed.

Something was coming.

Merlin's magical senses flared like an alarm, while Horus, even with his single, divine eye, detected the approaching danger with unerring clarity. The forest beyond the mountaintop stirred, shadows twisting as figures emerged.

Mnevis stepped into view, a towering figure of raw power and menace. He was followed by his kind, eight brutish minotaur-like gods, their bodies a perfect blend of man and beast. They were colossal, their bull-like heads crowned with curved horns that glinted in the fading sunlight. Their golden armor shimmered, adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of ancient royalty. Their every step seemed to shake the earth beneath them, their weapons—massive swords and spears—gleaming with an aura of divine lethality.

Mnevis's deep voice bellowed across the mountaintop, shaking the very air. "We knew you would come here. You are surrounded. Surrender Horus to us, sorcerer."

Merlin's lips curled into a calm, confident smile. He raised his hands, his fingertips already crackling with arcs of electric energy. "Surrounded? I think not."

Mnevis snarled, pointing his spear forward. "Kill him!"

The gang of bull gods charged, their weapons raised, their roars echoing through the heavens. Merlin didn't flinch. The air grew heavy with power as the sorcerer summoned a spell of devastating precision.

Bolts of crackling lightning danced between his hands, building into a surge of blue energy. Sparks flew, lighting the mountain peak in blinding flashes. With a swift motion, Merlin unleashed his spell.

The first lightning bolt struck the lead minotaur, sending him sprawling backward as his armor glowed white-hot. The bolt split into jagged branches, leaping to the next target and then the next, chaining through the gang with ruthless efficiency. Each struck enemy convulsed violently, their roars turning into cries of agony. Sparks flew from their bodies, lighting the battlefield like fireworks.

The air was alive with electricity, the hum of raw power drowning out all other sounds. Sparks leapt between rocks, and the ground beneath.

While Mnevis observed the devastating power of Merlin's chain lightning spell, his sharp mind quickly assessing the danger. While his brutish underlings charged forward to meet their fate, Mnevis held back. His lips curled into a cunning grin. Let the fools be the sacrifice and I will reap the reward, he thought.

As Merlin finished dispatching the minotaur-like gods with arcs of crackling lightning, the forest behind him exploded with movement. Mnevis, his massive form as swift as it was powerful, darted from the shadows. With a bellow of effort, he hurled his ornate golden spear with deadly precision.

The weapon sliced through the air, a streak of shimmering light that carried the force of a god's wrath. The spear spun, its sharp tip aimed directly at Merlin's heart.

But Merlin was no stranger to surprise attacks. With a flick of his wrist and a whispered incantation, a barrier sprang into existence in front of him.

The barrier wasn't just any shield—it was a masterpiece of magical defense. Golden light flared, and a honeycomb-like wall formed in an instant. Thousands of tessellated hexagons locked together, creating a shimmering, translucent structure that pulsed with magical energy.

CLANG!

The spear struck the barrier with a deafening impact, the force rippling through the honeycomb as sparks and flashes of light erupted. The tessellated pattern held firm, dispersing the energy of the attack across its surface. The spear, unable to penetrate, clattered to the ground harmlessly.

Merlin lowered his hand slightly, the barrier still glowing as he turned his sharp gaze toward Mnevis. "Impressive throw," he said with an almost mocking tone, "but you'll need more than that to break through my magic."

Mnevis snarled, his nostrils flaring as he straightened to his full height. His golden armor glinted ominously in the sunlight as he stepped forward, his hoofed feet cracking the rocky ground beneath him. "Sorcerer," he growled, his deep voice reverberating across the mountaintop. He was escaped with portal warping around him and escaping.