Author: Kevin D. Miller
Publisher: Bifrost Books
Pages: 318
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy
After his fateful fight in the bowls of an Asgardian prison, Leif returns to Midgard for some much needed rest and recuperation. Unfortunately, his reprieve is interrupted when he is unexpectedly attacked and once again pulled into a civil war between the gods. As he wrestles with his past, Leif quickly learns his Berserker strength is no match when his enemies are the gods themselves. In an attempt to grow stronger and control the rage within, Leif sets out to track down a surviving Berserker clan that may hold the secret to mastering the gold-like power the Berserker promises. Will Leif learn the secret and ascend?
Ascension is the action-packed sequel to Awakening that follows Leif’s journey to master the Berserker and prevent Hel from plunging the nine realms into a period of blood and darkness.
You can pick up your copy at Amazon → https://a.co/d/eSiJz1i
Chapter 4
The electrical storm crashed around Leif in a terrifying staccato, burning his retinas in the process. A wave of static energy washed over him, tingling his skin as the earth shook from the cascade of lightning bolts that slammed into the ground, terrifyingly close. Then, as quickly as the storm appeared, it was gone. Bright yellow sunlight spilled over Leif as his nose was filled with the thick smell of ozone. He blinked to clear the flashing spots from his vision; he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Thor standing not two feet away from him. The mountain of a god was dressed for war. His body was encased from shoulder to boots in gleaming silver-plated armor. His trusty war hammer, Mjolnir, was held firm in his right hand. Glancing at Leif, the thunder god gave him a quick smile before returning his focus to Fenrir and Ra. Following his gaze, Leif was shocked to see, unlike him, the two dark gods had not come out of the storm unscathed.
A look of pure hatred wafted from Ra; the ancient god seethed in anger so palpable Leif thought he could taste it. The god’s simmering orange eyes flared like the fires of Duat, causing the berserked Leif to take an involuntary step backward. Ra’s shirtless torso was covered in forked electrical burns, and his leather pants had been ripped to shreds from repeated lightning strikes.
Likewise, Fenrir appeared to have fared no better. His fur cloak was gone, probably disintegrated in the attack, while his shirt and pants were in tatters. He too had a look of outrage on his face, but hiding behind that façade, Leif saw true fear. With Ra at his side, Leif knew the damned wolf couldn’t back down, not when he talked such a big game moments ago.
Bolstered by Thor’s presence, Leif let out a war cry, swinging his axes in a complex pattern, warming up for the fight. He prepared himself to charge the battered gods, but a gauntleted hand clamped down on Leif’s shoulder, giving him pause.
“No, my friend,” Thor said in his thundering baritone. “You are in no condition to fight. I know your blood boils, but you must know you are outclassed. Let me deal with them,” Thor said, taking a meaningful step forward. As if to accentuate his point, lightning burst from the Aesir’s armor, momentarily encasing the god before flickering out.
Leif desperately wished to join the fight, but a tiny part of him knew he wasn’t strong enough. If he were to fight, he would just get in Thor’s way or, gods forbid, get himself killed. Gritting his teeth, Leif remembered his vow to not let his weakness be the cause of his comrades’ deaths. So, he held himself back. The sheer rationality of his control surprised him. When he had first awakened to his powers, the only thought he could muster while berserked was who to fight next. Now, he was capable of at least a modicum of rational thought while maintaining his berserked state. If he survived Ragnarok, he will be a much more deadly warrior.
Leif stepped back to give Thor some space, while Ra and Fenrir looked at each other for a silent second. Ra unsheathed his strange sickle-shaped sword, and it glowed with the same amber orange of a sunrise, perfectly matching his smoldering eyes. Fenrir bared his teeth in a snarl as he soundlessly unsheathed his blade.
The atmosphere grew still, as if the very weather was holding its
breath. Then the trio moved. It was then that Leif fully understood why
Thor had restrained him. As the gods moved back and forth on the
street, minor sonic booms rang out as all three warriors cut loose. Even
berserked, Leif could barely follow their movements, let alone
comprehend what they were doing. The air and ground around them shook
with their fearsome power.
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