Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 32

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

Corpses were piled high on the Midland fields. They were that of farmers, peasants, women and their children, but primarily Kushan. Yes, there seemed to be no shortage of Kushan in Midland as of late. Having the largest ground empire to date, an expansion was inevitable. Some of the more eastern nations affiliated with the Holy See had already fallen to the unrelenting onslaught from the Kushan invasion. These people, the ones who lay dead, it was an inevitable fate; if the Kushan hadn't killed them, then the plague certainly would. At this point, it was hard to tell which had claimed more lives, disease, or Kushan. Probably the Kushan.

And he had killed more than any Kushan had. He had killed more Kushan than they did Midlanders. Death, the field of battle, as long as there was one, he would fight, and he would win, and victory made him even stronger. These corpses, the ones that lay before his feet, the ones that he sat upon, resting his chin on the pommel of his giant scimitar, they were all the same to him. They were different in only what he perceived them being before their deaths; civilians and opponents. Now they were all the same; weak. Civilians died far too easily when an enemy force invades, and the enemy force gets compliant killing weak civilians, it makes them lax when they finally come across a strong opponent.

For all of their boasting and the backing of the largest land empire since the time of Gaiseric, the Kushan were far too easy to kill. He had won an impressive sword from one of his slaughter of their forces, but it was a hollow victory; his opponent had barely put up a fight, the sword was just for intimidation purposes. A true disgrace, he sourly thought. One opponent, one strong opponent, that was what he sought, and these Kushan had barely been enough to hold back his longing for battle.

Perhaps he should pursue the Kushan Emperor Ganishka, little was known about the enigmatic emperor, but his strength was undeniable. It would not be long before Midland or even some of the neighboring countries under the Holy See influence began to hire out for mercenaries. He considered the plausibility. A fight is undeniable. They will take action eventually. With Midland's King dead of a heart attack, they will scramble to fill that power gap. It was unlikely the princess would take control, more likely a group of advisors would run the ruling behind the scenes. Just thinking about all that power structure began to bore him. It did not matter who was in charge, but what they decided to do that made the difference. And strong; yes, they had to have strength.

There was that one swordsman... he had been able to land a hit on me. The first in a hundred years. Nostalgia filled Zodd as he recalled that fight. That opponent had been a struggler, he never gave up even when he thought that he might lose. Of course, the fight had quickly turned the tide when Zodd switched to his apostle form, only sparing their lives because he knew what fate awaited them. Although, from what I've heard, he has been killing many apostles since the Great Eclipse. If our paths were to cross once again... I would love to see how he has progressed. The Black Swordsman... could you be the equal I have searched for? Will you give me the fight I deserve?

Zodd never went out of his way to seek out other apostles, but when their paths did cross they spoke of how great a warrior the Black Swordsman was, and how many had fallen to that cursed blade of his. The Eclipse had changed that boy, molded him into one who could stand toe-to-toe with apostles and come out the victor. From what he understood, that driving force came from what happened to that woman. He had heard apostles' jest about the fate that had befallen her in the Eclipse at the hands of the new Godhand, but the humor was lost on Zodd. A battlefield was for killing, not for defiling women in a show of dominance, it was a disgrace to all involved. And if that was the force behind the Black Swordsman's desire to kill, Zodd could not argue against it. With a driving force like that, a man could take on the world.