Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 41

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

The eve of battle was fast approaching. Zodd could smell it in the air, feel the familiar sense of anticipation in his bones, his bloodlust getting to the point of boiling, eager for the next battle in this war. He should be thankful that the Kushan invaded in such numbers, the more he got to slaughter because of it. He examined both his ax and sword; both were as sharp as ever with no sign of going dull since he put a whetstone to them. Of course, the only one who could properly damage his weapons in a battle now was the Black Swordsman. That man had proven in their last encounter that he was only worthy of challenge in his full apostle form; especially with his recently acquired armor.

The armor was around long before Zodd had taken to fighting, but he still knew of it. Back then, before all that had happened to become an apostle, tales of the Berserker were still lively, filling children's heads with delusions of one day fighting on par with old King Gaiseric and becoming the best sword in the land.

But to have witnessed it now in the flesh, to see the Black Swordsman fight like an actual demon, it was a true spectacle, an honor to behold. Sure, the Black Swordsman had been a challenge when they first encountered during the war with Chuder, but to fight him now... yes, that would be a challenge he would gladly accept. Despite knowing what had happened to Grunbeld, Zodd longed for that fight to happen. Grunbeld believed that his might and power made him near unstoppable, but that hadn't stopped the Black Swordsman from nearly killing him. Might and size give strength, but it is knowing about how to use it; that was why Grunbeld had lost. Zodd did not care for boasting, but he knew that he was the strongest of the War Demons. If only Zodd had been gifted the chance to fight him that day.

He would have even settled for that wizard boy. Zodd did not particularly care for magic, it was more tricks than it was actual physical prowess, but if handled in the correct way it could yield great results. He had felt the energy coming off of that new staff the boy had acquired, again, it was older than his time as an apostle, but the feeling was there. If the boy were to fully master it, and with his skill with a blade too... Zodd "hmphed." Yes, either one of them would be a worthy opponent to face in battle.

But enough thinking about ideal fights, he had to focus on the fight that was closing in at a rapid pace. Their leader had sent scouts out to the port city of Vritannis looking to secure the safety of the High Pontiff, the leader of the Holy See organization. Pontiff's, Zodd thought with a bit of contempt. He had never been religious, even with the knowledge of the God Hand, the golden rule was given to apostles was to do as you wish, and for Zodd that was fighting, not for money or for the God Hand, but for himself. Things were different now, though. He fought under one of the God Hand because Femto was unchallenged, unrivaled. The loss of his one horn was proof enough of that.

But Zodd would not complain about the results of this war, there was just one lingering question that he had that would never ask; what happens after this war?

If all went according to plan, this world would soon be undergoing a change. Humanity would be pushed to the brink of extinction, but there would be unity and safety for those who survived. What wars would be fought then, what was he to do to then if no wars broke out?

But that was thinking too far ahead. War was in human nature, they could not fight it no matter how hard they tried, something was bound to happen if given time; and he wasn't called the Immortal One for nothing.

"Zodd," Locus and a recently recovered Grunbeld approached.

"What is it?" Zodd asked his fellow War Demons and captains in the New Band of the Hawk.