Bjorn’s HP bar displayed like a flowing river. It was at least three times longer than Blake’s. Blake gasped as the sigil for [Helm of Awe] appeared beneath Bjorn. He also had a buffer before reaching his main [HP].

“Shit,” Blake repeated, as Bjorn lunged toward him, as fast as a charging bull.

Blake felt sharp pain bite into his body, pushing him toward a table and crashing against it. Blake grunted and collapsed to his knees.

His [Helm of Awe] buffer bar descended to about half.

[Helm of Awe 45/100]

Blake gasped in shock, panting rapidly as two other Einherjar pushed him back into the fight.

Bjorn howled like an animal, leaping at him, swinging his ax at full strength.

Blake gasped and tried to use [Helm of Awe] to anticipate Bjorn’s movements. But the Einherjar swung faster than any human could. The powerful ax riveted diagonally, Blake tried to dodge, then jumped to avoid another blow, and suddenly, he felt another cut right into his ribcage, and screamed as his [Helm of Awe] descended to 2/100. Along with the pain, he felt a liquid emerging from his side. Was it blood? Could he bleed in Valhalla?

Another blow gave him his answer, this time across the chest. His [Helm of Awe] points decreased to the minimum, and part of the blow covered half of his main HP.

He was dying.

“Shit,” Blake gasped, feeling a warm, golden bright liquid coming out of his chest.

He looked at Brynhilde, she was still crossing her arms, her gaze seemed to say, don’t even dare ask for help.

Blake looked back at Bjorn, who swung his mighty ax at his neck. Blake dodged, and the ax sunk down halfway through the table where Blake had been. His reflexes were much slower than before.

And he was sure than with one blow, he’d be dead.

He frantically selected [Skald’s Voice] again. He focused on the hours of MMA fighting he had seen and the few months he trained BJJ and kickboxing, his mind raced through images and concepts, through ideas and skills.

The ax swung toward him, in Blake’s mind, faster than lightning, he pictured an old video of Muhammad Ali dodging blows left and right, he slightly adjusted his position and the ax passed by him, barely cutting through a strand of his hair in the process.

He’d pulled that off, but he noticed that his body responded much slower than his mind without the [Helm of Awe]. Now, he noticed what he hadn’t before, [Skald’s Voice] also had a time limit, he was using it much faster than he had before. He slipped to the side, avoiding the ax once again, dodged again and bobbed his head. Ax strikes were faster and harder to avoid than punches. And his gift was running out, he had to think of a strategy.

His mind turned back to his BJJ training. The first principle was to close in to his opponent, second would be to take him down and isolate his ax. Blake crouched and shot toward Bjorn’s legs, he put all his weight forward and held on to his knees in a double leg takedown. Bjorn collapsed to the ground and his head echoed against the wall. The entire hall erupted in gasps, and a few claps echoed behind.

Blake’s mind raced, first, he went to full mount, then turned on his side, pinning his knee against Bjorn’s ax-wielding arm.

Bjorn wasn’t stupid, and he was as strong as a bear. The berserker swung his entire bodyweight, ready to trap Blake under his weight.

Warning, your Skald’s voice is 12/100

Blake’s fighting instinct took over, realizing too that he was about to run out of [Skald’s Voice]. He had to finish quickly. He pretended to get up, tricking Bjorn to twist toward his side to get up.

Blake remembered only one of the few jiu jitsu techniques he had mastered; he went to the side, ensuring Bjorn’s back was toward him, he hooked his legs over Bjorn’s, and held one arm over his shoulder, the other one beneath. In that moment, he clasped both arms together around Bjorn’s neck.

And he squeezed.

The berserker growled, writhed and twisted, but was held down by Blake’s legs. He then tried to swing his ax blindingly, and managed to cut into Blake’s shoulder. Blake felt sharp pain on his shoulders and the rest of his HP went down.

[Your current HP is 3/35]

He held tight, as Bjorn twisted and turned, struggling to break free, Blake struggled to keep his arm wrapped around the Einherjar’s neck, applying pressure with his other forearm. The Norseman once again lifted his ax and prepared to strike at Blake.

One blow and I’m dead.

Well, at least I did go as a warrior.

At that moment, Bjorn’s arm relaxed, and the ax fell down from his hand, clanking against the floor.

Blake could perceive Bjorn’s life force. What hadn’t been touched before began to rapidly go down. His gifts, [Berserk] and [Helm of Awe], started fading, while everyone around them kept quiet.

Before Bjorn’s life winked out, Blake let go, dropped the Norseman’s body and got up, leaning on a table for support.

“What are you doing?” shouted a male voice. Blake turned. The brown haired man was staring at him.

“Do you wish to shame my brother? Kill him like a warrior that he is! Don’t mock him!”

Blake blinked.

Suddenly, an ax flew toward him. He caught it. It was Bjorn’s ax.

“Finish him,” Brynhilde said.

Blake looked down at the unconscious Norseman, sprawled against the stone floor.

Blake breathed in. He was one punch away from dying, and he tried to feel sorry for Bjorn, but at the same time, he felt powerful, he felt grandiose, whether it was adrenaline, he felt powerful and ready to do anything. Part of him did want to crush Bjorn’s head with an ax, besides, he had tried to kill him.

“Kill him now, Blake,” shouted Brynhilde.

“Do it!” the brown haired man sounded angry.

Eir’s gentle voice echoed in her ear. “This is how we do it."

What?

“But… I... I chose to have mercy!” Blake muttered softly.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The man with the partially shaved head shouted in the air, pounding his fists. “This man dares to dishonor my brother!"

Was he going to try to avenge him? But Bjorn wasn’t dead yet. Blake was too numb to think. Skald’s Voice had already been depleted.

“Do your duty,” Eir said. “Blake, please, you must finish the duel. It's the honor of battle. Do not mock your opponent!”

Blake gasped. They were all insane!

“Boy, he won’t have mercy on you once he wakes up,” Brynhilde said calmly. ”Be sure of that. He won't be impressed by your mercy. He'll think you're playing with him and do the same. And he will make sure it'll hurt.”

Talk about peer pressure.

"What if I maim him?" Blake asked Brynhilde.

"You sick monster!" shouted Bjorn's brother, his hand hastily reaching his dagger. "You wish to torture my brother instead of dealing with him in honor?"

"I.." Blake gasped.

Aagain, they were completely right. He had tried to kill him and would try to do it again, but even Bjorn's brother seemed to prefer to have his own brother killed. Or was he misunderstanding it all?

Bjorn’s fingers started to twitch.

Blake panted, grasped the ax by its handle and strode toward the fallen Norseman. He shut his eyes. He had to do it, to defend his own life.

He raised the ax above his head and swung downward with as much strength as he could muster. Bjorn’s severed head fell with a pool of golden blood.

There entire hall went silent. He felt a thousand people fixing their eyes on him.

Eir walked forward, gently grabbed his hand and leaned into his ear.

“He’s coming back anyway.”

Everyone cheered. Massive warriors started tapping on Blake’s shoulders. He almost tripped and fall. Others offered him horns of mead and asked how he had become such an effective warrior. Other Valkyries and elves giggled to themselves and pointed at him. Brynhilde and Eir watched from the sides. Eir looked proud, her cheeks reddened, eyes wide and open. Brynhilde had a smile on her lips and watched with arms crossed.

Suddenly, the gates of the Valhalla opened again. The crowd looked back, and Blake felt himself go pale as Bjorn stepped inside, raising both arms to the sky and receiving another horn of mead from a red-headed Valkyrie.

What had just happened? Blake had killed him. Bjorn had just been respawned before his eyes.

“Well done,” the brown-haired Norseman with the exotic hairstyle, had placed a hand on his shoulder, speaking. “You were a good match for my brother.”

Bjorn was approaching the table again, when Ulf raised his arm and pointed at Blake: ‘

“Bjorn, you dog, come over here! Here’s the boy that killed you!”

“Yeah, Ulf, this lad was good. Impressive, fighting unarmed!” Bjorn shouted. He looked strangely happy. “Servant woman!” he snapped his fingers at a pale woman that carried dozens of horns and beer mugs on her tray. “An extra round for the new boy.”

She bowed her head in reverence, while Bjorn approached Blake with a smile on his lips.

“You did good, my boy,” Bjorn said. “Blake Olson, very good. A strong name, you have.”

“Well,” Blake blinked, staring at the Norseman. His head was well in place, and there wasn’t even a scratch on his neck.

Ulf, Bjorn’s brother with the exotic haircut, burst out laughing. “We always get them.”

“We’ve got to do it again, boy,” Bjorn said, playfully punching Blake on the shoulder. Blake pressed his teeth. He was sure another one of those would kill him instead. “He was good, huh, Ulf?” Bjorn said to his brother.

“So...” Blake said slowly, just as the servant placed a horn of mead in front of his face.

“No one dies as long as we’re in Asgard,” Bjorn said. “Now,” he rubbed his hands. “I can kill you as many times as I wish. In ways you have never imagined.”

Blake swallowed hard.

“I’m playing with you, but you surprised me boy. You did good. Come, join our wolf-pack tonight. We fight in the meadows, we drink and we feast.”

“We never tell newcomers that they will be resurrected again if they die in Valhalla,” Ulf explained. “Thus we see what they’re made of.”

“I see, Blake nodded absently.”

“But you did good, I like that movement, lad. How did you learn that?”

Blake tried to keep his head up, but he felt more exhausted than he had ever felt before. Just keeping his neck straight was a struggle.

[Your current HP is 5/35]

He managed to mumble a few words: “I watched in the UFC.”

“The what?”

Then, everything faded to black.

Blake entered Valhalla again, this time, Bjorn and Ulf called him to their table.

“Ha, I got you too,” Bjorn said, tapping on his shoulders. Luckily, this time, Blake had been completely restored. His [HP] was at full capacity.

“So that’s what you all do all day, fight?” he asked.

“And feasting and wenching,” said Ulf, slapping the behind of a passing Valkyrie.

“It’s a man’s world,” said Bjorn.

Blake blinked, he could not deny he had felt powerful. It had been intoxicating. He found himself imagining fighting Bjorn again and doing better, dodging faster, using better techniques. He also looked at Ulf, he examined his HP and his gifts. He had another gift called [Seidr’s Kiss]. He knew that Seidr was related to foreseeing the future.

And about the women, the low rank Valkyries that served the mead were gorgeous. Each would have been more than a 10 on earth. But… He wasn’t interested in just spending a night with one and then forgetting. Or how did that work? Also, he didn’t want to share girls with other men. He had always considered himself old fashioned, although, well, in reality, Vikings were an older fashion than his.

But he couldn't stop thinking of Eir and Brynhilde. His mind wandered, thinking that maybe they were interested in him. Foolish notion. Brynhilde had had a few boyfriends that she’d tricked and end up killing, or didn’t measure up, if the myths were right, as for Eir, as far as he knew, she was never associated with a male consort, but in a thousand years, many things could have happened.

“Hey,” Ulf said. “What do you say, we fight, and whoever wins gets to eat the ribs of tomorrow’s hunt.”

“The ribs?”

“Everybody loves ribs.”

“I agree,” Blake said.

“Well.”

“Maybe the boy needs a little bit of affection,” Bjorn elbowed him. “Look at that valkyrie, her name is Elsa. she’s looking at you. My boy, she knows how to give a good time.”

Blake blinked.

“I…”

“Oh no,” Ulf said, laughing. “The boy fell in love with Brynhilde, don’t tell me.” He broke out laughing and Bjorn started laughing too.

Blake felt blood rushing into his face.

“Boy,” Ulf mumbled, before sighing and sipping on his mead. “If Odin’s daughters were interested in mortals, she would have picked us first. Listen, I lost my wife back in Midgard. She was no warrior, so didn’t come to Valhalla. But there are thousands upon thousands of beauties to enjoy. And not to mention Freya’s Hall.”

“Aye,” Bjorn said. “The girls at Fólkvangr are fantastic. We hunt with them sometimes, then we have a nice time.”

Blake cleared his throat.

“But, is there no space for wives or girlfriends here?”

“They’re all girlfriends, what do you mean?” Ulf said.

“Listen, lad,” Bjorn said. “Those valkyries, Eir, Thrud, Brynhilde, they’re still looking for a prince charming that they’ll never find. Believe me, a thousand men tried it before. If you find a wife among the Valkyries, well, lucky you, few shield-maidens ever came here, some with their husbands and that’s settled, but plenty of girls to choose from. Ulf says he wants to settle with one from Folkvangr after Ragnarok passes. If he survives.”

“Of course I will,” Ulf said. “We’ll have a goat farm and a lot of dogs. But for now, I just enjoy myself.”

“And how about going to earth?” Blake asked.

“Once you try the fruits of Asgard,” Ulf said. “There’s no going back.”

“Nah,” Bjorn shook his head. “We can’t go to Midgard yet, until our time comes. Maybe there it will be different. But feck, anyway there’s barely any time. ‘Nuff said, boy. Pick the girl you like and have a good time. Don’t fret for those Valkyries. Besides, all the other ones are ogling you and I’m sure they can’t wait either. Come on, I’ll introduce you to some.”

Blake nodded, absently turning toward the side. Eir was looking at him from a high table along with other Valkyries and men in Norse noblemen’s clothes. He thought they might be the other Aesir. Her expression was… Strange, she looked slightly worried. She looked at him straight in the eye and smiled. Blake could somehow feel a bit of her worry in his mind. Was it just his imagination?

Blake smiled back.