Chapter 3. The Night Fury Killer.

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~No one's P.O.V~

At an island far from Berk, the clouds blocked out the sun for the island.

A man gazed down below him, hands on the railing of his airship as he looked at the ships below him at the bay. Metal covered most parts of them, giving each of them the extra protections that they would need to capture the wild beasts called dragons.

The men at the bay had their mouths open in fear as they saw two dragons, Deathgrippers, landing on their land. The two dragons cackled, readying their deadly tails as an airship was carried through the air, landing behind them.

"Archers!" One of the guards shouted for them to get ready despite shaking in his boots. These men knew the danger of even holding a weapon against the male.

Four Deathgrippers landed on each of their pedestals, chains around their necks to keep them in place if they even dared - if they found themselves - to be able to disobey.

The man clad in black stepped down from his airship, not saying a word. The dim light made it hard for the archers to even see his face.

The two Deathgrippers on the ground growled dangerously, eyes shooting to every moving object as they trailed beside their master, who took slow, taunting steps towards the locked gate.

Shifting his eyes up, one of the thousands of guards lifted his hand, signalling for the men to open.

Slowly, the gate was lifted from the ground, men shouting and encouraging one another as they pulled the heavy weight of the metal door.

The man got through the short tunnel with his dragons right behind him, their guards up. The light coming from the roof barely reached the man standing in the shadows, revealing his light blue eyes.

Walking into the arena, the man ignored the dragons around him without much effort.

He did, however, notice how badly their control happened to be. The dragons around him kept breaking out of their cages, almost getting out of the arena before being shot down with bolases and rope.

He scoffed once her saw to men being tossed around like dolls by a Rumblehorn.


Pathetic.


"The Dragon Riders attacked us here..." Ivar the Witless reported to his leaders, three War Lords, placing a wooden boat on the detailed map over the nearby lands, "Off the eastern strait." He deepened, making sure everyone understood exactly where.

Ragnar the Rock, one of the more muscular of the three War Lords, randomly picked up one of the ships out of boredom, beginning to play with it, pretending that it sailed over the map.

He made it 'crash' into Ivar's ship, making an explosion sound with his mouth while his hands flared up like it was fire from the crashed ships.

"Ragnar!" Chaghatai Khan, the second War Lord scolded the man in blue, hitting his bare arm with the back of his hand with a frown, making the man silently apologise.

"My dear War Lords!" The voice of the newly arrived sounded behind them, making the three turn around without a second thought.

They were greeted with the sight of the man before them pulling down his tight hood, lightly ruffling through his flattened, grey hair, "How goes your plans to conquer the world?" The man questioned the three before him, his lips pulling into a tight line, the closest to a smile they had yet to see.

Ragnar laughed wholeheartedly at the man, starting to approach him, "Grimmel, my old friend." He opened his arms with a smile, "Thank you for comin-" The War Lord's words were cut short by a roar of one of the man's Deathgrippers.

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