Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 28

Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.

Three days had passed since Harry departed from the witches of the Spirit-Tree. The first night came with the addition of possessed animal corpses – a direct result of Harry no longer being under the protection of the charms that encompassed the spirit-tree. The spirits were relatively weak and Harry had made quick work of them with the sword gifted to him by Godo. Perhaps it was all in his head, but Harry felt a twinge of pain in his braced leg when fighting the spirits. Ivalera had helped to heal some of his injuries after he had occasionally messed up with a potion, but this was a different pain. Apostles had done this to him during the Eclipse, and their claws cut deep. The damage had been done by the time he had first arrived at the witches' home.

After the fight was over, Harry had heard the voice of Schierke speaking in his head. 'Your brand. Drawn the rune over the brand on your neck – like you did with the scar on your head.'

It helped. The rune was specifically designed to ward off evil presences, and any protection Harry could get to ward off possessive spirits he would take. With some ink he had taken before leaving, Harry drew the rune on over his brand. It wasn't permanent by any means – probably only lasting three to five at the most, but it was better than fighting for his life any night. Oh god! Harry suddenly realized. Guts was probably experiencing the same thing. The Swordsman had purposefully set off in search of fights, but everyone needed rest, and as strong as Guts was, he was still bound to feel the effect of deprived sleep. Who knows what kind of a mental state he would be in because of it; he had always been a bit of a grump before, but now... it wasn't a pleasant thought. If he ever met up with the swordsman, Harry would make sure to put the rune on him as well; whatever god there was knows he deserves a break.

Continuing along on his journey, Harry experienced frequent observations and mental conversations with Schierke. Apart from just being able to share thoughts with one another, the second part of thought transference allowed Schierke to see what Harry perceived in real time. She was unable to access memories (something Harry was extremely grateful for), but it was comforting to know that he wasn't fully alone on his travel. If he would pass by a farmstead or town, he could always count on Schierke to remark on what he was seeing.

'This is what others homes look like? Most of them are made of stone, is that how they are normally constructed?'

Most of the time, yeah. Harry had answered back. You'd be very culture-shocked if you ever saw a city like Windham. Although he couldn't see her face, Harry could basically picture the look of curiosity she must have adopted.

'Have you visited the city often then?'

The mercenary band I was in used to have a barrack hall set aside for us. She couldn't see it, but Harry recalled the memory of the day he had asked Guts for tips on swordplay. Corkus had been showing off about shooting arrows, and Judeau and Rickert had humored him. Nothing like how the spirit-tree mansion is.

'Hmm. I could try warging into a bird and see it that way. Mistress Flora and I have been doing that frequently of late.'

Because of that dream we all had? Harry inferred.

'Yes. She says that the world is in the process of changing; and based on what we all saw, it's safe to say it isn't going to be for the better.'

Further along the way, Harry encountered a herd of people all looking extremely tired and worn from their travel. Their eyes held a look of defeat that was different than that of those who experienced war but not unlike those who have seen death countless times. None of them looked to be in too good a state of health, so Harry hung back and allowed them to gain a bit of distance. When one of the elderly travelers began coughing in a more than sickly demeanor, women pulled their children away and two brutish men wearing the closest they had to armor seized the old man. A noose was made and they left the man hanging from the branch of a tree; they didn't even bother to cut him down after he had died.