Berserk Of Gluttony Novels & Stories

"What a fight!" I caught my breath, dropping the blade to the floor. Gullinkambi took that as a sign to exit my berserker furor like the bears did their warriors, and his spirit reformed into the proud cockerel by my side, cocking his head to the side and chirruping. I struggled for breath, gasping, and the entire room clapped.

I typed 'Berserker' and a lot of meanings appeared but there is one thing that caught my attention. Although similar groups have been found around the world, berserker generally refers to the small class of Nordic peoples who could be found preforming inhuman feats on the battlefield. When in combat a berserker would fight nude and/or completely unarmored, sometimes taking the skins of bears, wolves or other beasts to heighten his appearance. Uncontrollable rage is the signature of the berserker. To enter this rage many would have pre-battle ceremonies in which they would consume alcohol, and work themselves up into a violent, bloodlusting mood through dance and similar actions, and then oft

Belphegor makes a side comment, making me snap into making a hasty decision. Before he could finish lifting up his shirt, I dashed forward to pull his shirt back down. However, I miscalculated my strength and ended up ripping his shirt when I pulled it down. Remember when I said that Mammon had rock hard abs? I take it back. Belzeebub has the most crazy defined abs that I have ever seen. Despite being the demon prince of gluttony, there wasn’t a single flab of fat on his body. Everything is rock solid!

It wasn't pain; it was theft. My knees buckled. The golden aura of my gravity field flickered and died, vacuumed into the black hole of his presence. I felt my strength—the years of training, the Highblood vitality, the very will to maintain my posture—flowing out of my pores like cold sweat. My muscles felt like dry leaves, brittle and hollow. "Barzil!" Viggo choked out. I looked at the Berserker. He was shrinking. His massive muscles were deflating in real-time. His red eyes were dimming to a dull, muddy brown. He fell to his hands and knees. He retched—a wet, agonizing sound of bile hitting stone.