Reckless Berserker! Valhalla's Might! Seeking Monthly Votes

Reckless Berserker! Valhalla Shows Its Might! Please Vote

Duncan had risen to power on Britain Island.

Who resented it most? Without a doubt, the Hengist and Horsa brothers standing before him.

Hengist had died beneath a Ballista, with no chance to use his martial prowess at all. Horsa had been shot dead by Duncan with Noden's Bow, never even getting the opportunity to fight him in close combat.

The brothers' heroic spirits had been seated across from Duncan. There was no need to think about it—the traditional entertainment of Valhalla was about to begin.

Life in Valhalla was simple.

Eat meat by the mouthful, drink by the mouthful, hack people to death with gusto, get hacked to death and revive, then keep hacking people tomorrow.

The place had the atmosphere of a Greenskin Orc Waaagh.

Behind Duncan, the Valkyrie in the Winged Golden Helmet hurriedly offered him a suit of armor, but Duncan merely waved it away and said calmly, "No need!"

Why wear armor?

When fighting masters, ordinary armor was useless. At the very least, one needed Plate Armor from the Middle Ages. Chainmail could not withstand a Two-Star Powerhouse's full-force blow and would only hinder his reactions.

Duncan took only a shield and a battle axe. He casually pulled a javelin from a table leg, then tucked a Farron Throwing Axe into his belt.

The Hengist and Horsa brothers exchanged a glance.

Horsa, who had clearly died most recently, bore the greater grudge. He immediately leaped forward, ready to fight Duncan to the death.

"No need to make it so troublesome!"

"Both of you, come at me together!"

Duncan's Tireless Carousing had already begun to take effect. He could feel that he was absurdly wild right now—Reckless's negative status must have been applied.

Arrogant!

An uproar swept through Valhalla. On the seats of the Twelve Norse Gods, hazy figures gradually appeared, their expressions shifting slightly. Odin narrowed his single eye, while Thor showed interest. That arrogant tone suited His tastes perfectly, for Thor was also a Reckless Deity.

These were the heroic spirits of two founding monarchs, not ordinary brave soldiers who had died on the battlefield.

Yet Duncan was telling them to attack together!

It was a blatant humiliation!

Even as a heroic spirit, Horsa was nearly driven mad with rage. He raised his battle axe and was about to charge in, but Hengist stopped him with one hand. Turning to the Silver-Winged Valkyrie nearby, he said in a deep voice, "Give him a war bow!"

Everyone knew that Duncan's greatest combat skill was archery.

Duncan had not even brought a bow, making it obvious that he did not take them seriously. Hengist, as a founding monarch, had his own pride. The two brothers ganging up in melee against a Sharpshooter would be an unfair victory.

The Valkyrie in the Winged Golden Helmet hurriedly took out a war bow and offered it to Duncan, but he did not reach out to accept it.

He had come to Valhalla to establish his might!

If he simply kited the brothers to death with arrows, how could he intimidate the heroes of Valhalla?

"No need!"

Duncan gave a wild, arrogant grin and said to the Valkyrie in the golden helmet, "Once I've cut them down, pour me a proper drink!"

In the real world, he had to keep a low profile and develop cautiously. He feared getting injured, crippled, or affecting the battles to come. More than that, he feared being unable to properly exert himself with Anya when they rode together and used their piercing tactics.

But in Valhalla, Duncan could strike with full force!

All the way here, he had never suffered any serious or fatal injuries. Even when he led the General's Guard to cut down Horsa in battle, Duncan had never truly reached the point of a Fight to the Death.

If Duncan had activated Greater Berserk back then, he alone could have fought the entire elite Chieftain Guard!

In his previous life, when Duncan played Total War: Three Kingdoms, only a handful of fierce generals—Lu Bu, Zhao Yun, Guan Yu, and the like—could charge into enemy formations alone and directly slaughter an elite enemy force.

Even the Valkyrie in the Winged Golden Helmet was stunned!

Valhalla had not seen such a fierce man in centuries!

Countless overlapping shadows of heroic spirits erupted in deafening clamor. No one knew how many heroic spirits of the Germanic Barbarians, slumbering for hundreds and thousands of years, had been awakened. They all descended along both sides of Valhalla to watch Duncan face the Hengist and Horsa brothers alone.

Duncan stood bare-chested, without armor. His solid chest seemed carved from marble, while the muscles across his body coiled like dragons. As he loosened up, the hard lines revealed across his back brought to mind the legendary heroes of Ancient Greece, half human and half god.

"He reminds me of a Spartan..." some heroic spirit whispered.

The surroundings gradually fell silent.

Above Valhalla, Odin's manifested figure lifted a hand slightly. The next second, the hall of Valhalla transformed, as though it had entered a magnificent arena from Ancient Rome.

Duncan VS Hengist and Horsa!

Amid cheers that rang through all of Valhalla and nearly reached other parts of Asgard, this sacred Valhalla duel finally began.

Duncan rapidly retreated, removing the Farron Throwing Axe from his belt.

Roar!

Horsa roared first, shield in one hand and axe in the other, charging toward Duncan.

Hengist had come from the Jutes' personal guard regiment and was a Sword and Shield Champion. He circled in from the other side to pincer Duncan. The brothers closed in from left and right, their resentment and unwillingness from life turning them into ravenous beasts.

Duncan began to accelerate.

He lunged forward in an instant. When his body was nearly parallel to the ground, he violently flung the Farron Throwing Axe in his hand. Then, with a nimble roll, he sprang back up, shield raised and Heavy Javelin in hand as he faced Hengist head-on.

Real men never look back at the foes they have defeated!

The scene looked exactly like something from the kung fu movies of his previous life—the flying axe thrown by the Axe Gang boss cleanly severing the rival gang leader's lower leg.

As Duncan turned to face Hengist, Horsa's pained groan came from behind him.

The Farron Throwing Axe had struck his right calf, chopping straight into the gap between the bones.

Horsa was wearing armor. If he had not been, that strike would have severed his lower leg.

Master of Weapons (Axe).

Although Duncan's throwing had not reached the master level, the Farron Throwing Axe had been further enhanced. His Domain of Death had three tiers: the first was the range of bows and arrows, the second was the range of Farron Throwing Axes and javelins, and only the third was the berserk state he entered when hacking at people with a blade!

Now, he had directly skipped the first tier.

Whoosh!

At that moment, Valhalla seemed to transform into a Colosseum from Ancient Rome. Tens of thousands of phantom heroic spirits appeared, erupting in gasps of shock.

Everyone present was an expert tempered by battlefield slaughter. They knew exactly how much value that seemingly ordinary strike carried.

This was foundational combat skill honed through countless trials! It had practically become a bodily instinct!

That blow had nearly crippled most of Horsa's combat ability.

Not far away, Hengist's pupils contracted as he instantly felt immense pressure. He had been killed by a ballista before, filled with resentment at the time, but seeing Duncan display such astonishing combat skill now, he realized that Duncan might have been able to kill him even in a direct confrontation.

Buzz!

Duncan began accelerating into a charge, hurling the javelin in his hand in an instant.

Hengist immediately raised his shield. The Heavy Javelin embedded itself in it, making his arm go numb from the tremendous force. When he looked down, he found that the javelin had actually pierced through the shield, leaving a wound near his elbow as threads of blood seeped out.

Is he even human?!

Was he this powerful the last time we met?!

Bang!

Greater Berserk!

Duncan let out a furious roar that echoed throughout Valhalla.

Under the stunned gazes of countless heroic spirits, he raised his shield and rammed straight into Hengist. The terrifying force caused cracks to appear on both their shields, and Duncan instantly swung up the battle axe in his hand.

--Combat Style: Decapitation!

In an instant.

Hengist was knocked off balance. Relying on his astounding combat skill, he immediately thrust his sword toward Duncan's kidney. Blood sprayed wildly as the sharp longsword nearly pierced straight through his body.

But the blood Hengist sprayed was even more shocking!

The blade piercing his kidney did not affect Duncan's fighting in the slightest. He swung down his battle axe, and a head filled with Terror fell to the ground. Endless blood burst forth like a fountain, dyeing Duncan's bare chest crimson.

Roar!

Duncan lifted Hengist's head in one hand and roared toward Valhalla's audience seats. In an instant, the frenzied cheers nearly blew off Valhalla's shielded roof, making it feel as though they had returned to the bloody gladiatorial days of Ancient Rome.

It wasn't that I couldn't beat him! I was just afraid getting injured would affect future battles!

A single fatal strike.

Decapitation.

Even during Ancient Rome's most glorious era, when Champion Gladiators emerged in great numbers, such a breathtaking scene was rarely seen!

The heroic spirits of the Norse Pantheon had always been warlike.

Now, witnessing Duncan's savage battle, they became so exhilarated that it was as though they had come back to life. Even some old relics from ancient times with divine bloodlines rose to their feet, condensing phantom forms to watch the bloody Colosseum before them.

Too powerful!

Too brutal!

Duncan pulled out the blade that had pierced his right kidney and casually tossed it onto the ground. Holding Hengist's head in one hand, he picked up the javelin with the other. After giving it some thought, he casually snapped the javelin in half and threw it away, then once more lifted the heavy decapitation axe.

Today was an exhibition match.

He did not need to worry about injury or death. The laws of Valhalla meant resurrection after death. He could fight without restraint, strike hard, and be as ruthless as he pleased!

Not far away.

Horsa watched his brother die in an instant, beheaded by the enemy, and finally showed a trace of fear. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to his feet, gripping his battle axe and shield as he faced Duncan's relentless advance in a staggering posture, like a ferocious beast making its final desperate struggle.

Duncan was in no hurry.

Blood flowed continuously from his body, but it did not matter much. At the very least, it would not affect his combat ability while Greater Berserk lasted.

What was a Champion Gladiator?!

Of course, only a real man who could make the audience go wild, roar themselves hoarse, tremble with excitement, and even make the female spectators in the Colosseum shudder on the spot was qualified to become a Champion Gladiator!

Fighting bravely was one thing, but the performance had to be spectacular too!

It was time to give these Germanic barbarians a taste of the shock brought by the finest gladiatorial arenas of Ancient Rome.

The Empire was no good now.

But no one could deny that the Empire of old had been a true warrior nation!

Bloody gladiatorial deathmatches.

Enough to easily ignite the feverish passion of an entire City of Rome!

Duncan circled the arena once.

He directly hurled Hengist's head toward the Valkyries as an offering to them—an offering of slaughter!

Under the gaze of countless eyes.

The Valkyrie in the Winged Golden Helmet trembled slightly and reached out to cradle Hengist's savage head. She would pour Duncan a drink; this was the gift Duncan had offered her!

"Come! Fight!"

Battle axe in one hand and sword in the other, Duncan threw back his head and roared. He drew a line across his chest with the blade, blood seeping out. The scar only made him seem fiercer and braver, like an ancient mortal hero challenging the gods, turning humanity's unyielding spirit into towering fury.

Horsa was afraid.

He had died filled with resentment, but looking at it now, even if he had risked his life back then, he still might have died. At most, he would only have severely wounded Duncan.

Duncan began to sprint faster.

He was like an ancient beast charging madly forward, leaving clear footprints across the arena floor. He suddenly leaped into the air and brought down sword and axe in a crushing strike. Clang! Sparks flew as Horsa barely blocked it, only to be hacked to the ground by Duncan's astonishing brute strength.

His shield shattered, and a chip broke from his battle axe.

Horsa lost his balance, his burly body crashing heavily to the ground. Before he could rise, a foot stomped onto his back, leaving him unable to move. His spine felt as though it were about to snap.

Duncan raised his beheading axe high and swept his gaze across the entire arena.

This scene!

It was as if the age of Ancient Rome had returned.

In Valhalla's stands, countless awakened heroic spirits roared and shouted wildly. Even the Valkyries could not help shrieking, "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Kill!

Kill!

Kill!

Upon the thrones of the Twelve Norse Gods, Odin's expression became extremely subtle. His form shifted between solid and illusory, and His label changed from "Norse Main Deity" to "King of the Wild Hunt"!

He slowly rose, towering like a Giant, and lifted His right hand, thumb pointed down.

Duncan roared toward the sky and swung down his beheading axe without hesitation. Blood sprayed like a fountain as Horsa's savage head was severed on the spot.

"Again!"

Valhalla's laws began to take effect. The recently executed brothers, Hengist and Horsa, were revived, while Duncan's injuries rapidly healed.

Duncan took the Mead from the Valkyrie in the Winged Golden Helmet and drank deeply!

He raised his battle axe and sword, roaring at the densely packed heroic spirits in the stands, "Again!"

"Let's fight to our hearts' content today!"

One heroic spirit after another turned from illusion into reality. The restless Germanic Warriors entered the arena one after another, and in the blink of an eye, dozens had joined, forming a massive, bloody, brutal melee.

Duncan threw back his head and laughed wildly, pulling the Valkyrie in the Winged Golden Helmet beside him into his arms. He took off her golden helmet, used it as a cup, and drank heartily.

Tireless Carousing was nearly fully stacked.

He handed the Winged Golden Helmet back to the stunning Valkyrie and laughed wantonly. "Watch me offer you glory with their heads!"

The Farron Throwing Axe tore through the air.

In an instant, a heroic spirit warrior who had entered the arena was blown apart at the head.

A Heavy Javelin pierced through one man's chest, pinning him dead at the center of the arena.

By now, Duncan did not even carry a shield. With a furious roar, he cleaved through a heroic spirit warrior along with his shield, then leaped forward and struck fiercely, directly chopping off a giant man's head. The next second, a sword struck his back. Without even turning around, Duncan swung his axe backward, cutting the one who had stabbed him from behind in half at the waist.

Today, Duncan had come to Valhalla to make a name for himself!

Avalon in the Mist—he would stand up and stomp it beneath his feet. As for Asgard's Valhalla, he would carve out a mountain of corpses and a Blood Sea!