Lightning struck, illuminating the warring armies, followed by thunder that boomed across the battlefield. Ordinary steel might not hurt trolls, but nothing could withstand [Mj?lnir], and the great weapon drove them back into the tunnels, fleeing the wrath of the thunder god. The J?tnar fled back up the ramparts, though the camp offered no protection against the vengeful warrior of the Aesir, riding his chariot in the sky. Desperate, Halfdan looked around, trying to think of a way to fight back.

  His priestess acted faster. With her skill in piercing weapons, she threw a javelin, fuelled by her faith in her patron. It struck one of the creatures pulling Thor’s chariot, eliciting a dreadful howl, and the beast plummeted to the ground along with everything attached to its harness.

  The draught animals smashed against the earth, as did the cart, crushing a few warriors beneath it. But Halfdan knew this would not suffice. Someone had to fight Thor, and it had to be now, before he entered the camp and slaughtered every person inside the ring fortress.

  Halfdan swung his hammer to fight his way forward, but quickly, it became unnecessary. The sea of warriors parted before him, giving him a path to his adversary.

  Climbing out of the wreckage, the thunder god seemed undisturbed; he did not even appear clad for battle. He wore a simple tunic, red like his hair and beard, with a belt. No armour, no helmet. His right hand held a hammer with a short haft. His left hand was empty rather than wielding a shield. And yet he stood with a confidence fitting for the greatest warrior in the nine realms, peerless in battle.

  The moon had risen, taking the sun’s place. Its light illuminated the two combatants and the empty ground between them. With the corner of his mouth twisting upward, Thor raised his hammer.

  *

  For once in his life, looking at his enemy, Halfdan knew before it even began that he stood no chance to win this battle. He was simply outmatched. This was a clash between warriors, and Thor radiated power and strength that he could not hope to equal. Fenrir was far away, on the other side of the battlefield, but perhaps if Halfdan lasted long enough, the wolf could come to his aid. Or maybe, if he could disarm his enemy, it would even the field. Around them, as the einherjar watched in anticipation of the duel, snow began to fall.

  Lightning flew through the air, once more causing light to illuminate everything, and followed by the crackling of thunder. Halfdan was ready; it was no secret how the son of Odin fought. The berserker swung his own hammer, not to parry, but destroy. [Heart of Yggdrasil] struck Thor’s weapon as it flew at him. It knocked [Mj?lnir] away… but nothing more. Sindri’s tool, which had destroyed unbreakable chains and much else, had left not a scratch on the small hammer.

  It flew back into Thor’s grasp. “Unfortunate.” His voice was a rumbling sound, easy to hear; Halfdan realised that the din of battle had quieted down as both einherjar and J?tnar watched the duel. Those close, anyway; in the distance, Fenrir gave a muffled howl with an enemy between his jaws. “There are only three weapons stronger than what you wield, and you face one of them today.”

  Thor threw his hammer again, and taken aback that his own tool had failed him, Halfdan barely reacted in time. He threw himself to the side. [Mj?lnir] flew past him and through the chest of a warrior standing further back, before it turned around, pulverising the already dead man’s head as it returned to Thor’s grip.

  Another throw, and another evasion, thanks to [Swifter Than Them] saving Halfdan from the full force of a thunderbolt to the chest. Wisely, the einherjar watching had split away, leaving only empty land behind Halfdan.

  Having made the attempt three times, Thor nodded to himself. “We’ll settle this up close.” He began walking forward with measured, confident strides. Hurrying to his feet, Halfdan readied himself, took a proper stance, and held his weapon high.

  *

  Once the thunder god was within range, Halfdan struck. He did so with speed, precision, and enough force to crush a lesser being, using all the might that his abilities could pool together, especially [Strength of Body]. He did not aim for a killing blow, knowing the fight would not be won so easily; his only hope lay in buying time for his allies to help him. So his hammer struck Thor’s left shoulder, breaking bone and twisting the arm out of place.

  His circumstances felt too oppressive that Halfdan could smile, but in the sanctuary of his thoughts, he cheered as he pulled back. Breaking one arm left Thor half as strong and placed them on less uneven ground.

  Evidently, Thor had the same thought, and unlike Halfdan, he had no difficulty smiling. With a gruesome sound, he wrenched his injured arm back into the shoulder, and he looked no worse for wear. Stunned, Halfdan reacted too late as Thor charged him, and the god was able to get in close without taking a second blow.

  Range had been Halfdan’s advantage, wielding a two-handed weapon against Thor’s short hammer; fighting up close, the advantage became reversed. Thor struck out swiftly, and Halfdan knew each strike carried enough strength to turn his skull into powder. Again and again, [Mj?lnir] moved right past his head, and the berserker had to retreat backwards with hurried steps. He nearly stumbled, which would have spelled death; Halfdan needed to retaliate.

  Changing his grip, sliding his hands away along the haft of his hammer, Halfdan used it as a staff instead. Thanks to [Wielder of Weapons], Halfdan knew instinctively how to fight this way, and when Thor’s lightning came against him, he parried the blow. For a moment, he feared that the haft would break, but [Heart of Yggdrasil] was sturdier than that.

  Still, Thor smiled. The fight continued, Halfdan striking with both ends of his weapon. His blows landed, whipping the god across the face, causing no more hurt than the smack of a glove. And to accomplish even this much, Halfdan left himself open for retaliation. [Mj?lnir] struck back with more than sufficient strength; mirroring the earlier injury, Halfdan felt the hammer crush his shoulder, splintering bone.

  He staggered backwards, his arm drooping. In this state, he could not hope to wield the weapon properly, neither as hammer nor staff. It required two hands, both strong, and the injury sapped all in his left. It meant Halfdan had only one option left.

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  Knowing that going berserk would erase all thoughts, replacing them with instinct, Halfdan allowed his mind to linger on the people he loved; the only fitting choice for what might be his final thoughts. As Thor stepped forward to finish the fight, Halfdan called upon [A Beserker’s Rage].

  *

  Far from where the titans fought, the battle still raged. Fenrir cast enemies aside or crushed them in his jaws. The J?tnar, granted a reprieve from Thor, banded together in their camp, defending it as best they could. They rallied around their master’s high priestess and the rest of his priesthood, all of them using the dark of night for their abilities.

  Yet they stared defeat in the eyes; the einherjar were numerous and their resolve strengthened by Thor’s arrival. Arrows and javelins filled the sky, and nowhere in the camp was safe. Sif continued her galdr, leaving openings for the warriors to attack their confused enemies, but her powers attracted attention.

  Making a quick decision, Freydis grabbed Sif, blinked through the fighting once, and then again to place them both atop Fenrir. “Stay here, stay low!” she shouted in Sif’s ear over the din of battle.

  “What about you?”

  “Halfdan’s people need me!” She blinked away, back into the fighting, using the darkness to make her way through the throng of enemies and return to the camp. As for Sif, she grabbed tufts of fur and held on as the enormous wolf continued its battle, scorning all weapons and scouring the battlefield for gods and einherjar to kill.

  *

  Pain, doubt, and concern fled at once as [Berserker's Rage] took hold. Halfdan’s mind became an empty vessel only to immediately overflow with fury, demanding an escape. Gripping his hammer tightly, the berserker attacked, driven by a burning anger that could not be sated or quenched. All of his strength from numerous sources flowed together into a single, swift strike. He hammered Thor directly on the chest, who was thrown back nine steps, staggering. Breath escaped the god as his ribcage struggled to return to its proper shape.

  Halfdan did not delay for a single moment. He followed up, swinging his hammer to the fullest extent of his might. His attacks could not be evaded; instead, Thor parried with his own tool, or simply used his arm as a shield. It broke the bone, but the thunder god did not appear hindered by this, repeating the motion to defend in the same manner.

  Consumed by rage, Halfdan made no defensive move of his own. The berserker state was not meant for this; any injury taken could be ignored, after all. [Berserker's Rage] was meant to kill the enemy regardless of the situation, regardless of numbers – regardless of who that enemy was.

  But no berserker had ever faced Thor and lived. And going purely on the offensive, as before, left Halfdan vulnerable. When he crushed Thor’s left arm for the third time, he did so with a pattern of attacks that could be studied, understood, and countered. Accepting what had to be unbearable pain, his shattered bones being splintered once more, Thor parried the blow with one arm and moved in close. The short distance made it difficult to swing a weapon, yet [Mj?lnir] came with enough blow to push Halfdan back.

  His berserker rage protected him from feeling the pain or any shock; he was immediately ready to fight on. But Thor moved faster. Again and again, he hammered Halfdan, always stepping forward to strike again before the man of Midgard could retaliate. The einherjar howled and cheered, watching their defender crush the champion of the J?tnar.

  Still [Berserker's Rage] kept Halfdan in the fight, ignoring agony or injury; yet none of it helped. Thor did not require a full swing to pack deadly force into each hammer strike; any warrior lacking [Hardier Than Them] would have been dispatched to Hel’s hall. Even Halfdan, for all his might, could not withstand the barrage of blows. With the crackle of lightning, Thor smashed Halfdan under the chin and sent him flying into the air, only to land on the ground, no longer among those conscious.

  *

  Unable to kill the great wolf, the einherjar changed tactics. They lured Fenrir around the field, avoiding engagement. While his size and might served him well in battle, he could not easily twist and turn or rapidly strike out; baiting him with quick jabs of the spear, the einherjar attacked from all sides, keeping him occupied and confused. Meanwhile, the archers aimed their arrows at the child clinging to his back.

  The battle in the camp fared worse for the J?tnar. Any semblance of ranks or defences had fallen apart. It was hand against hand, or rather, given the numerical superiority of the einherjar, three against one. Freydis attempted to blink behind an enemy and found her ability failing; there was no power to draw on, no patron to fuel her blessing. Likewise, she could not melt into the shadows and fade from sight; escape was no longer possible.

  *

  Halfdan was only unconscious for a moment before pain flooded his mind, violently pulling him back to the waking world. He immediately recognised his current state as the aftereffect of his berserker rage; he had experienced it plenty of times. Except usually, he would be standing, surrounded by corpses, and maybe his injuries would cause him to fall to the ground. This time, he was already down on his back, and as he finally found the wherewithal to look up, he saw Thor. The snowfall had ended; in the dark of night, the white could barely be seen.

  The truth hit Halfdan nearly as hard as [Mj?lnir] had done. His rage had failed. Thor had defeated him, knocking him out. Halfdan’s arm was still crushed. He tried to engage [Berserker's Rage] again, but it did not obey. He was too weak. His power was spent.

  He still had to fight on. Thor, bemused and amused, looked as Halfdan got back on his feet. [Heart of Yggdrasil] lay to the side, out of reach; even if his adversary allowed him to pick it up, Halfdan could not wield it effectively with just one arm. So he raised his right fist, the only weapon left.

  “You have lost,” Thor declared. He stepped close, evaded Halfdan’s swing, and slammed his hammer into the berserker, sending him to the ground once more.

  Halfdan got back up. Buy time. Fenrir would come.

  “The wolf will not save you.” Thor glanced away briefly. “He is far from here.” Another blow sent Halfdan down again.

  The berserker got back up. Buy time. For Freydis and Sif to escape.

  “Your people have lost. They are all being slaughtered.” For the third time, Thor struck him. “Surrender!”

  For the third time, Halfdan got up. His face was bludgeoned beyond recognition, he wheezed for breath as his ribs pierced his lungs, and he could not lift either arm anymore. But every moment he stayed on his feet might be what saved his companions.

  The god raised his weapon, a surge of lightning surrounding the metal, before he arrested his movement. “I came to fight Loki,” he mumbled, “and I found Thor.”

  He took a deep breath, which came to him easily; unlike Halfdan’s, his injuries had healed during the fight, and he looked as hale as before the battle began.

  “Enough!” Thor shouted, and his voice boomed across the field, louder than thunder. In the distance, Fenrir looked up with a whine, a half-crushed warrior between his jaws. “I call a truce!” The wolf spat out his prey. “Cease your fighting. I would speak with this man of Midgard.” And the thunder god lowered his hammer.