It was a viking. There's no other way to describe him. He had a braided beard and all. Contrary to the other occasions he didn't just bash at me and simply waited. I looked around and other warriors had taken some distance from us. It was a duel.
"That's a fine looking helmet you're wearing." I smirk and jump straight at him with enthusiasm which he matched with his shield and followed with his axe. Turning away would have been impossible so I focused all my strength in the attack causing him to stagger back despite being taller and bulkier than me. I don't mean to brag, but lifting reams of paper in the office is not a bad workout and I always jump in to help whenever someone needs help carrying something heavy.
The viking smiled with a satisfied smile then hit his shield with the axe twice causing a clanking sound before dashing at me. I replied in kind and we clashed steel against steel to our hearts content. I swung my sword at him repeatedly but he blocked every blow countering with his axe from time to time.
I somehow managed to crouch at the right time and the axe flew right above my head with such speed it could have given me a new haircut. Far from scared I pushed forward and we measured each other's strength until the tie was broken sending me back at the precise distance to be cut by the axe.
At that moment the memory of the young squire training to become a better swordsman despite being unable to use the slash skill due to his broken system came up to me. He was focused on every swing and managed his breath to match his movements perfectly. I watched him train for hours which is why I understood his breathing technique was meant to withstand long combats as it reduced stamina use. His stance was perfect and left no openings while maintaining a perfect balance through every swing.
In that world he was just a kid, but that was actually his second life and it really showed he knew his way around the sword and I try to remember everything. I felt my heart racing in my chest, the cold hilt of the sword in my hands, the crunching sound of my boots sliding across the gravel and a strange calm that washed over me.
"Slash!" My sword moved at the same speed as before. The tip of the blade missing the viking for just an inch but he remained still lifting the axe above his head until blood gushed out from his chest in an horizontal pattern.
"There is no need to say the name of the skills out loud." The system manager said.
"Wow, good job. You learned a new skill and defeated a tough opponent at the same time." I ironically say the words I would have liked to hear.
"No need to be snarky. It's just your job." The system manager put me in my place.
That's right. This is only my job and the more time I spend in this world the more time passes in my original world. I got so immersed in the battle I forgot the reason why I was fighting in the first place. I grabbed the helmet the viking dropped after disappearing and put it on, then jumped back into action.
It was high noon and the battle raged without stop. Everywhere I went, anywhere I looked. However, I noticed how the amount of people was being reduced. Now there was enough space to fight properly and instead of a melee, warriors started dueling each other more often. I got challenged a couple times. It felt oddly good, like I was being acknowledged as a warrior.
A couple more hours passed when a man stood in front of me. He was lean and didn't look like much, but the fact that he was fully geared and carried a couple extra weapons let me know he was dangerous. If I was a thrill seeking warrior I would have accepted immediately, but I was getting close to reaching my goal and didn't want to mess up in the end.
"Sorry, I need to gather my breath for a moment." I said without expecting him to understand me. I tried reasoning with the people before, but they were either battle frenzied or didn't know how to speak.
"No worries, I can chill for a while." The man replied and I had to make a double take.
"You're from earth?"
"You too!? This is awesome!" The man took a couple steps forward and I jumped back. "relax, I won't kill you."
"I can't risk it. I need to win."
"Then let's team up. That should give us enough time to chat before dinner."
I agreed on the spot. Not because I trusted him, but because dinner sounded awesome. I had been fighting from the moment I woke up without rest and I had yet to have a drink or anything to eat. The guy told me he's been in Valhalla for a few years and it was difficult at first. Just like me he woke up confused and it took him a while to understand how it worked, but that now he was among the strongest warriors. I didn't think much of it until I saw him fight.
With just one blow to the face he defeated a man that tried to interrupt him while he spoke. The hit was so powerful it left a dent in the man's help, though when I picked it up it was brand new.
"Items, weapons and clothes are always on good condition when you pick them up. This entire world is an arena and the gods watch over us while we fight. You can even earn rewards from them, but that is only if you make it alive."
"How many are usually left?"
"It varies. Sometimes it can be half, but there's times where only one person remains... me." I didn't question him and just limited myself to give thanks that I took him up on teaming up. If I said no I would have been in trouble to say the least.
His name was Olafsson, or so he said. He was a traveler and didn't want to say much about his past life. He made a lot of questions, some I couldn't answer but I did the best to tell him as much as I could without disclosing anything sensitive. He was pretty relaxed which differed from his fierce battle style. I wonder if he too used to work a desk job like me, but he didn't want to talk about it.
During the following hours we fought side by side. Honestly, it felt like cheating. I didn't mind it, though. As long as it helped with the mission I would not complain.
When night fell the background faded and the giants disappeared. Then next thing I knew I was in a grand hall large enough to accommodate hundreds if not thousands of people. There was food being served and beer all around.
"Waitress!" I called, but Olafsson corrected me.
"They're called Walkyries," He made a gesture and someone filled his cup, or rather a horn, with mead. I followed suit and took a shy sip before gulping it down like water earning myself a set of pats on the back. "not bad for a newcomer!"
"Thanks." I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and dug into the banquet. It was rustic, as in pork cooked whole rustic, precisely my kind of meal. Unlike the restaurants where Patrick usually drags me into where you walk out hungrier than you arrived, this place had actual food.
That night I got to witness how people that tried to kill each other all day broke bread like friends. They celebrated each other's victories and joked playfully about the happenings of the day. It turned out they could speak, they just didn't think it was worth talking with a newcomer until I proved my strength as a warrior.
I was welcomed into their ranks and celebrated along with them for a while until the system manager announced it was time to go back. It saddened me to part from such a cheerful bunch. They were rowdy, but all good guys.
"It's time," The system manager said at the same time the giant figure that sat on a distant throne pointed a finger at a gate. "this world is a passageway to other worlds. If you cross that gate you will be sent back to your original world. People like them would be born again, but your case is different because your body is still alive."
"Hey! If you want to come back here someday, you just have to die in battle with a weapon in your hand!" Olafsson said and then it hit me. He was probably a police officer or maybe a soldier who died in active duty. No wonder he didn't want to talk about earth.