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thought: 'Pov'
Speak: "Pov"
System: {Pov}
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Under a sky painted with the soft glow of the setting sun, the shores of Berk were alive with the sound of laughter.
The cool breeze carried the salty scent of the sea, ruffling the hair of a young Hiccup Haddock. Barefoot and carefree, he stood at the water's edge, the gentle waves lapping at his toes. His emerald eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched Snotlout splash around, attempting to impress with exaggerated feats of strength.
"Think you can skip a stone farther than me, Hiccup?" Snotlout taunted, puffing out his chest. He flung a flat pebble across the water, counting proudly as it bounced three times before sinking.
Hiccup smirked, picking a smooth stone from the sand. "It's not all about brute force, you know."
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the pebble skimming effortlessly—four, five, six skips before it disappeared into the depths. Snotlout's jaw dropped, and a playful scowl crossed his face.
The boys where plying when from afar they see a ship coming close from afar
Hiccup: "Snotlout look"
Snotlout look and there in the sea a ship was approaching and with it to more ship were approaching
Snotlout: "Let's go and tell your Dad hiccup"
Both boys leave to the village to tell everyone.
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In the boat there was a little child about 7-year-old he was looking around, lost in his thought wondering where was he.
Not only him was there, Five more men where there, all of them were wearing spartan armor, the ship was on fire some of the men where trying to put out the fire, but they stop when two more ships were approaching.
These were enemy ships approaching in fast speed
each Spartan took out their sword waiting for the moment to attack the enemy
One Spartan Solder Approach the kid
Spartan1:"My Prince you need to hind, Come I'll cover you."
The child obey and the Spartan Soldier hind the child in a pile of blanket and cape.
The Spartan Return with the other getting ready for the fight.
The five Spartans formed their shield wall on the heaving deck as the enemy vessel crashed against their boat. Twenty warriors swarmed over the rails, weapons raised and howling for blood.
The Spartans met them with disciplined silence, their spears extending through the gaps in their shield wall. The first wave of attackers impaled themselves on the bronze points, three bodies crumpling to the deck. But the rest pressed forward relentlessly, using their superior numbers to assault from multiple angles.
One enemy warrior leapt atop the Spartan shields, momentarily disrupting their formation before a spear caught him mid-leap. His falling body created enough confusion for several attackers to slip around the Spartan flank. The rightmost Spartan spun to face them, his shield smashing one attacker overboard while his sword opened another's throat. But even as he fought, three more enemies surrounded him, their blades finding gaps in his armor. He continued fighting even as blood poured from multiple wounds, taking two more enemies with him before finally collapsing to the deck.
The four remaining Spartans tightened their formation, but the damage was done. Enemies now attacked from all sides, no longer funneled into the killing zone of the shield wall. The Spartan commander roared, pushing forward into the mass of enemies. His shield edge crushed one man's windpipe while his sword disemboweled another, but an enemy spear found the gap beneath his raised arm. The commander staggered but continued fighting, blood flowing freely down his side.
A massive wave suddenly rocked the boat, sending warriors from both sides stumbling. Two Spartans lost their footing on the blood-slick deck. The enemies fell upon them immediately, overwhelming them with multiple attackers. One Spartan managed to rise to his knees, driving his broken spear through an enemy's eye before multiple swords silenced him forever. The other never regained his feet, stabbed repeatedly as he struggled against the rolling deck.
The two remaining Spartans stood back-to-back, surrounded by eleven enemies who circled them cautiously, having learned respect for Spartan prowess. The commander, pale from blood loss but standing firm, nodded to his last brother-in-arms. With a unified war cry, they charged in opposite directions, abandoning defense for one final offensive.
The Spartan commander's sword claimed two more lives before a thrust caught him in the throat. He dropped to his knees, still swinging his blade until three enemies fell upon him together. The last Spartan fought like a demon, his shield splintered but still effective as he smashed it into an opponent's face. His sword arm became a blur, cutting down four enemies in rapid succession.
An enemy spear pierced his calf, bringing him to one knee. Still, he fought on, sword flashing in the sunlight. Two more attackers fell before a sword slashed across his back. Turning to face this new threat, he left himself open to attack from behind. Three blades struck simultaneously, and the final Spartan collapsed.
The last surviving enemies stood breathing heavily among the corpses, only five of their original twenty remaining. Their victory shouts were short-lived as one clutched a mortal wound he'd been ignoring in the heat of battle and fell. Another collapsed moments later, blood pooling beneath him from a Spartan thrust he'd survived just long enough to claim revenge.
Three Ware left living when four more ships were approaching this time Viking ships.
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