The Leviathan
Thorfinn stood at the bow of Skiðblaðnir, his eyes fixed on the large waves that rose and fell before him. Each swell lifted the ship high, only to plunge it down into the troughs, the water crashing against the hulls with deafening force. His face was set in a deep frown, trepidation tightening his chest as he sailed closer to his quarry. The new sword, given to him by Freyr, was strapped securely to his back. He had stored away his own sword, believing it was not up to the challenge of the Leviathan. As he sailed, Thorfinn noticed fish and other sea creatures fleeing in the opposite direction, their panic evident as they darted past the ship. The sea around him was alive with motion, but it wasn't the usual bustling of marine life. It was as if the ocean itself was trying to escape the presence of something monstrous.
In the distance, a massive storm churned, dark clouds roiling and lightning flashing across the sky. Thunder rumbled like the growl of a giant, and the wind whipped the sails violently. Thorfinn's heart pounded as he watched the storm, its sheer size and ferocity unlike anything he had ever seen, the last time he saw it he had been asleep, he had been unaware that he had sailed into such a monstrous storm.
Suddenly, a sharp pain flared in Thorfinn's head, and he staggered, clutching his temple. A memory surged forward, though it was not his own. It was knowledge, a gift from Freyr. The storm was not Thor's punishment for him, but for the Leviathan. As the spawn of Jörmungandr, the Leviathan was an enemy of Thor. The god of thunder has cursed the creature to never know the sky; should it breach the surface, it would face Thor's wrath, the power of his anvil crashing down upon it.
Thorfinn stood firmly at the stern, his eyes scanning the night sky. He raised his hand, tracing the positions of the stars with his fingers. The knowledge gifted to him guided his movements as he adjusted the sail and the rudder. He tugged the ropes, the fabric of the sail catching the wind just right, propelling the ship forward even faster. He glanced at the horizon, noting the position of the moon. With a quick pull, he corrected the ship's course, ensuring it stayed true to his intended path. His hands moved swiftly over the ropes, tying and untying knots to manipulate the sail's angle. The ship responded to his commands, gliding smoothly over the water despite the rough conditions.
A deep, bellowing roar echoed through the air, vibrating the water around Thorfinn's ship. He felt the reverberations in his bones, the sound so powerful it seemed to shake the very sea. Thorfinn's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins. He knew he was close.
The roar grew louder, the water beneath him churning as if the sea itself was alive. Overhead, the sky darkened as he entered the unnatural storm. Cold rain began to pelt down on him, soaking his clothes and chilling him to the bone. The water droplets hit with such force they felt like needles against his skin. The ship rocked violently as the waves grew larger, crashing against the sides with relentless fury.
Thorfinn's eyes narrowed against the stinging rain, his muscles tensing with every rumble and crash. He could sense the leviathan's presence, a massive shadow lurking beneath the surface, waiting. The bellowing continued, each roar growing louder, more menacing. Thorfinn's breath came in sharp, determined bursts as he steeled himself for the battle ahead. The hunt had begun, and he would not be the prey this time.
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Kattegat was alive with revelry, the flames of countless torches casting flickering shadows across the town. In a dark corner, Floki, Ragnar, and Lagertha stood watching the feast unfold. The sounds of laughter, clinking mugs, and crude jokes filled the air. It was a feast courtesy of Mikael, a celebration of Thorfinn, the Jotunsbani, the Giant Slayer. But the name was spoken with mockery, not respect. The feast was a cruel joke, mocking Thorfinn for being a fool and running off to his death.
Magnus was at the centre of it all, shouting louder than anyone. "While Thorfinn rots beneath the waves, I'll be finding warmth beneath the furs with Rebekah!" His words elicited loud, mocking laughter from the crowd.
Lagertha's grip tightened around the hilt of her dagger. "I'm going to cut his tongue out," she hissed.
Floki giggled beside her. "I'll hold him down."
Ragnar stepped in front of them, his eyes steady. "Thorfinn himself will silence them once he returns," he said.
Before they could argue, Niklaus walked up to Magnus and, with a swift motion, slammed his fist into Magnus's face. Magnus stumbled to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose. "You dare disrespect my sister and my friend?" Niklaus shouted.
Magnus scowled, standing up and drawing his sword. "You'll regret that, you little whelp, regardless of who your father is."
Niklaus unholstered his axe, the two boys locking murderous gazes. The crowd fell silent, stepping back to avoid the wrath of either boy's father.
Magnus lunged first, his sword slashing through the air. Niklaus parried with his axe, the metal clanging loudly. Magnus pushed forward, forcing Niklaus back into a table. Dishes clattered to the ground, and food spilt everywhere. Magnus drove his shoulder into Niklaus's chest, pushing him further back. Niklaus retaliated with a swift kick to Magnus's shin, but Magnus recovered quickly, slashing across Niklaus's arm. Blood spattered onto the ground as Niklaus gritted his teeth against the pain. He swung his axe at Magnus, who barely dodged, the blade grazing his side.
The fight moved towards the centre of the feast. Magnus shoved Niklaus into another table. Niklaus stumbled but regained his footing, swinging his axe in a wide arc. Magnus deflected the blow with his sword, sparks flying from the clash. Magnus took advantage of Niklaus's unsteady footing, landing a punch to his jaw. Niklaus fell to the ground, mud splattering around him. Magnus kicked him in the ribs, forcing a groan from Niklaus.
Niklaus, fueled by rage, grabbed Magnus's leg and yanked, pulling him down into the mud. They grappled, exchanging punches. Magnus managed to get on top, pinning Niklaus down. He raised his sword, ready to deliver a killing blow, but Niklaus grabbed a handful of mud and threw it into Magnus's face, before pushing him off.
Blinded, Magnus stumbled back, rubbing his eyes. Niklaus took the opportunity to get back on his feet. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, but his eyes burned with anger. He swung his axe, catching Magnus on the shoulder. Magnus screamed, dropping his sword as blood poured from the wound. Niklaus didn't stop. He tackled Magnus to the ground, punching him repeatedly. Each blow sent blood and teeth flying. Magnus tried to shield himself, but Niklaus's fury was unstoppable. Finally, a booming voice echoed through the feast. "Enough!" Mikael strode forward, his presence alone silencing the crowd. He grabbed Niklaus by the back of his shirt, pulling him off Magnus and throwing him aside.
Magnus lay in the mud, barely conscious, his face a bloody mess. Niklaus struggled to stand, glaring defiantly at his father. "He deserved it," he spat.
Mikael's eyes darkened with fury as he looked at his son. "Oh, he deserved it, did he?" he said, his voice dangerously low as he walked closer to Niklaus. Niklaus, who had met his father's gaze before, now looked down, fear creeping into his eyes. Mikael's hand shot out, grabbing Niklaus by the throat and lifting him off the ground with one hand. "Since when was it Niklaus who decided what people deserved?" Mikael spat, his grip tightening. He gestured with his other hand to Magnus, who lay groaning in the mud. "Look at him, boy," Mikael snarled. "That is your ally, not Thorfinn."
Niklaus struggled in his father's grasp, his hands clawing at Mikael's iron-like grip. "Do you attack your allies?" Mikael asked, his voice a chilling calm.
Niklaus, gasping for air, managed to choke out, "No."
Mikael slammed Niklaus into the ground, the impact reverberating through the earth. Without giving him a moment to recover, Mikael grabbed him by the hair and yanked him up, slamming his face into a nearby table. The wooden structure splintered under the force, dishes and mugs scattering. Niklaus tried to crawl away, but Mikael grabbed his leg, lifting him and swinging him like a rag doll. He hurled Niklaus through the air, sending him crashing through the wall of a nearby building. The wood shattered, and Niklaus's body crumpled to the ground in a heap of debris.
Before Niklaus could even attempt to rise, Mikael was upon him again. He pulled his son from the wreckage and began to beat him with his fists, each blow landing with sickening force. Niklaus's face became a bloody mess, his nose broken and eyes swollen shut. Blood poured from his mouth as Mikael's fists continued their relentless assault.
"Do you understand now, boy?" Mikael roared, his voice echoing through the silent crowd. He lifted Niklaus with both arms once more and slammed him against the ground with a bone-crunching thud. Niklaus's body lay limp, barely conscious, his breaths coming in ragged, wheezing gasps. Mikael didn't stop. He kicked Niklaus in the ribs, the force lifting him off the ground. Niklaus landed in the mud, coughing up blood. Mikael grabbed him by the throat again, lifting him so they were face to face. "You will never dishonour this family again," Mikael growled, his eyes blazing with fury. "Do you understand?"
Niklaus could barely nod, his body trembling with pain. Mikael's grip tightened for a moment longer before he released him, letting Niklaus fall back into the mud. Mikael looked around at the gathered crowd. No one moved. No one spoke. Mikael looked at Ragnar, a small, cruel smile forming on his face. "Thorfinn is the first," he said, his voice dripping with venom. He then glanced down at Niklaus, lying broken in the mud, and spat on him before turning to leave. Magnus, still groaning from his injuries, was slung over Mikael's shoulder as they departed, leaving a tense silence in their wake.
Ragnar's scowl deepened as he watched Mikael leave. The sight of the man tossing around a nearly fully grown man like a bag of feathers was disturbing, but it wouldn't deter Ragnar. He stood still, fists clenched at his sides, until he was snapped out of his thoughts by the movement next to him.
Lagertha stalked forward, her expression a mix of anger and concern, and knelt beside Niklaus. "Floki," she called, her voice tight, "can you help him?"
Floki, his usual smirk absent, nodded. "Aye, I can help him. But I'll need a hand." He looked at Ragnar, who nodded grimly.
Together, Ragnar and Floki lifted Niklaus, who winced and groaned with every movement. His face was a mess of blood and bruises, and his breathing was laboured. Lagertha stayed close, her hand on Niklaus's shoulder; they carried Niklaus away from the crowd. The onlookers began to disperse, murmuring amongst themselves, but the mood had shifted. The feast's earlier mockery and laughter were replaced by an uneasy silence.
Ragnar and Floki moved Niklaus to a quieter spot, laying him down gently. Lagertha looked at Ragnar, her eyes fierce. "This cannot continue," she said, her voice.
Ragnar nodded, his jaw clenched. "We might not be able to wait much longer."
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Thorfinn gripped the ropes tightly as his ship rocked violently, water splashing over him and the deck. The storm raged around him, with lightning flashing across the sky, casting eerie shadows over the churning sea. He felt the cold, biting rain and the sting of the saltwater on his skin.
In the distance, he finally saw what he had come for—the leviathan. A swirling mass of tentacles writhed as they broke the surface, each one massive and thrashing violently. The sight made Thorfinn's blood run cold. The tentacles seemed endless, twisting and turning, their slick, dark surfaces glistening in the flashes of lightning. It looked like a nightmare come to life.
The storm seemed to grow angrier, as the creature broke the surface. Lightning struck down, trying to obliterate the monstrous tentacles, each bolt met with a deafening crack. It was like watching a battle between gods. The sky lit up with each strike, revealing more of the leviathan's terrible form. Thorfinn's heart pounded in his chest, fear and adrenaline mixing in a dizzying rush. He could barely comprehend the size of the thing, let alone what lay beneath the surface. The tentacles moved in and out of the water, creating massive waves that rocked his ship violently. Each time they slapped back into the ocean, it felt like the world was ending.
Thorfinn pushed forward, waves crashing against his ship, drenching him to the bone. Each wave felt more massive than the last, the fear he would capsize was held at the back of his mind, though he reminded himself that this wasn't merely any ship. He peered over the edge, as he caught a glimpse of something during one of the flashes of lightning. Beneath the roiling surface, he saw shadows moving. Dark shapes, swift and large, darting just below the surface. Without warning, a creature burst from the water. Its body was a grotesque mix of muscle and scale, with rows of serrated teeth lining its elongated jaws. Its eyes were cold, dead, and locked onto Thorfinn. The beast lunged, jaws wide, ready to devour him whole. Thorfinn stood frozen, the sheer terror of the sight rooting him to the spot.
Just as the creature was about to reach him, the sword strapped to Thorfinn's back unsheathed itself. It flashed in the air, slicing cleanly through the monster. The blade cut the beast straight down the middle, its two halves splashing into the water on either side of Thorfinn. He snapped out of his daze just in time to see more of those creatures erupting from the sea. Thorfinn grabbed one of the thick metal harpoons, but yanked his hand back as a sharp pain shot through him. Lightning danced along the harpoon's surface, but he grit his teeth and grabbed it again, ignoring the sting.
The sword continued to fend off the monsters on its own, moving with a life of its own. Thorfinn thrust the harpoon forward skewering one of the beasts through its open maw. Blood sprayed across the deck as the creature writhed, then fell still. Another beast lunged at him from the side, but the sword intercepted it, slicing through its head and sending a spray of blood into the air. Thorfinn moved around the ship, dodging and weaving as he fought. He grabbed the ropes, adjusting the sails to keep the ship steady amid the chaos. The monsters kept coming, their dead eyes filled with a primal hunger. One leapt onto the deck, snapping its jaws at him. Thorfinn swung his harpoon like a club, smashing it against the beast's head until its skull caved in.
Another creature lunged from the side, its jaws closing around his leg. Thorfinn screamed in pain, stabbing down with his harpoon, piercing the beast's eye and driving the weapon deep into its brain. Blood pooled around his feet as he wrenched the harpoon free and kicked the lifeless body overboard. The sword danced around him, slashing and hacking at the relentless onslaught of beasts. Thorfinn fought with all his might, every muscle straining as he battled the monsters. He felt the ship lurch beneath him, a wave crashing over the deck and nearly sweeping him off his feet. He grabbed the rigging, pulling himself upright and throwing another harpoon at a leaping beast, impaling it mid-air.
The creatures' blood coated the deck, turning it slick and treacherous. Thorfinn slipped, landing hard on his back. A monster loomed over him, jaws snapping. The sword flew through the air, cleaving the beast in two just before it could reach him. Thorfinn scrambled to his feet and grabbed the sword's hilt, feeling its power coursing through him. Thorfinn drove the blade into the last of the creatures, feeling it shudder and die beneath him.
Though it seemed as if he couldn't relax as he looked ahead, his eyes widened as he saw the water churn violently ahead. An almost tsunami-like wave of creatures surged toward him, their bodies a mass of scales, teeth, and hunger. He gripped his sword tightly, readying himself for the onslaught. Just as he prepared for the worst, the water beneath him shifted. From the depths, an army of sea life surged forth. Sharks with rows of teeth, massive whales, fierce orcas, and other sea predators joined the fray. They streamed past Thorfinn's boat, a torrent of natural power and aggression. The clash was immediate and brutal.
The creatures from the depths leapt from the water, their jaws snapping, only to be met by the defending sea life. A shark tore into the side of one beast, thrashing violently. An orca rammed another, sending it flying through the air, its body splattering against the water with a sickening thud. Whales breached, slamming down on the attacking creatures, crushing them beneath their immense weight. Blood turned the sea crimson as the predators fought back the monstrous horde. The screams and roars of the dying filled the air, mingling with the sound of crashing waves. Thorfinn watched as the sea life blocked every attempt of the creatures to reach him, their ferocity unmatched.
A fierce smile spread across Thorfinn's face. He raised his sword to the stormy sky and shouted, "Njord!" The sea seemed to respond to his call, the waves rising higher. With a swift motion, he grabbed a rope and turned his ship, sailing it on its side as he rode a massive wave. His feet planted firmly on one of the hulls, balancing expertly as the ship tilted and cut through the water continuing towards the leviathan. The waves became monstrous, battering his ship from all sides. The sea roared, and the wind howled, making it increasingly difficult to sail. Yet Thorfinn remained focused, his eyes locked on the colossal shadow beneath the waves.
Suddenly, a massive tentacle erupted from the ocean, rising high to the sky with the others. Thorfinn's eyes widened as he yanked the rudder, pulling the rope of the sail, switching direction just in time. The wind caught his sail, propelling him forward, narrowly avoiding the tentacle that dropped and slammed down behind him. The impact surged his ship forward violently, and Thorfinn was thrown to the deck, nearly slipping off the edge before grabbing a rope to steady himself.
Cursing under his breath, Thorfinn scrambled to his feet, grabbing one of the iron harpoons. With all his might, he launched it toward the tentacle. It soared through the air but fell short, splashing uselessly into the water. Frustration gripped him as he saw the leviathan's monstrous appendage retreat beneath the surface. The leviathan wasn't done. Another tentacle lashed out, cutting through the air like a massive whip. Thorfinn expertly manoeuvred the ship, his hands a blur as he adjusted the sails and rudder, narrowly evading the deadly strike. The tentacle crashed into the water, sending a torrent of spray across the deck.
Thorfinn cursed the leviathan, his voice drowned out by the roar of the storm. Every failed attempt to strike the beast only fueled his rage. Frustration boiled over, and he tore his shirt off, exposing his muscular, battle-scarred body to the biting wind and stinging rain. Gripping his sword in a reverse grip, he knew the very gods themselves had blessed his quest. He wouldn't dishonour them by failing, and he wouldn't fail Rebekah. With a grimace, Thorfinn stabbed the blade into his own skin, carving the rune for strength into his flesh. The blade was cut with a precision that made the pain bearable. The boat rocked violently, but his hand remained steady, slicing through his skin with deliberate strokes. Blood poured down his body, mingling with the rain and seawater that lashed at him.
As he finished the rune, Thorfinn dropped the sword and channelled his magic through the freshly carved symbol. The rune glowed a fierce blue, and a wave of unbearable pain wracked his body. His muscles tore apart and reformed, and his bones groaned under the pressure. He had never felt such agony, like his very being was being torn apart from the inside out. But he forced himself to his feet, every movement a battle against the searing pain that threatened to overwhelm him.
With a guttural roar, Thorfinn grabbed a harpoon. Channeling the strength from the rune, he launched it with incredible force. The harpoon shot off the boat, a blur in the storm, and slammed into one of the leviathan's raised tentacles. The power behind his throw surprised him, but what followed was even more astonishing.
A blinding flash of light filled the sky as a bolt of lightning struck the tentacle, attracted by the iron harpoon. The current travelled through the tentacle, and in an instant, it exploded in a mass of flesh and gore. Thorfinn watched, wide-eyed, as chunks of the leviathan's tentacle rained down, splashing into the turbulent sea around him. The beast let out a bellow of pain that reverberated through the water and air.
Thorfinn stared down at the harpoons, the symbol of Thor engraved on each one. His mind raced, piecing together the connection. The storm, with its chaotic, indiscriminate strikes, had been unable to target the leviathan with precision. But the harpoons, marked by Thor's rune, seemed to attract the god's thunder directly to the beast. The realization sent a thrill through him, and a manic laugh erupted from his throat, carried away by the howling wind.
Grabbing another harpoon, Thorfinn hurled it with all his might at a writhing tentacle. The harpoon sailed through the storm, embedding itself deep into the monstrous flesh. A heartbeat later, lightning crackled through the sky, drawn to the harpoon-like iron to a magnet. The bolt struck the tentacle, and it exploded in a spray of blood and gore, pieces of charred flesh raining down into the turbulent sea. The leviathan let out a deafening roar of agony, its cries mingling with the storm's fury. Thorfinn's laugh grew louder, almost unhinged, as he reached for another harpoon. "Come on, beast! Face Thor's wrath!" he shouted. He threw another harpoon, and another, each finding its mark. Each impact was followed by the same blinding flash of lightning, the same explosive force tearing through the leviathan's tentacles.
The sea around him became a battlefield of blood and flesh. Tentacles flailed, smashing against the water, trying to crush Thorfinn's boat. But every time the leviathan tried to strike, Thorfinn was ready. He threw a harpoon into an approaching tentacle, and the ensuing lightning strike blasted it apart, chunks of meat and viscera splattering across the deck. The Leviathan finally seemed to understand the threat Thorfinn posed. The tentacles that had been flailing aimlessly now moved with purpose, targeting Thorfinn's ship with deadly precision. Thorfinn felt the shift and gripped the ropes tighter, his muscles straining as he navigated the storm-tossed waters. The ship darted between the writhing appendages, each manoeuvre something that only a person with a lifetime of experience could pull off.
A massive tentacle surged towards him. Thorfinn hurled a harpoon, embedding it deep into the flesh —it exploding not too long later. At the same time, he launched his sword in a spinning arc. The blade sliced through another tentacle effortlessly, sending chunks of flesh and seawater spraying. He grabbed another rope and swung himself to the other side of the ship, pulling the sail with him and changing direction. But it was too late, The Leviathan lifted a tentacle beneath Thorfinn's ship, raising it high out of the water. Thorfinn stumbled, losing his footing and crashing onto the deck. He quickly grabbed another harpoon and muttered, "Minka!" (shrink). The boat shrank instantly, and he stuffed it into his pouch just as the ship left his hands.
Clinging to the slick, monstrous flesh, Thorfinn stabbed his sword into the tentacle to stop his fall. He looked up and saw an island in the distance, a plan forming in his mind. But the tentacle began to move, preparing to throw him. Thorfinn yanked his sword free and started sliding down the length of the tentacle. As he looked down, he saw the Leviathan's head emerge from the sea. It had the body of a whale and the maw of a shark, rows of jagged teeth gleaming in the flashes of lightning. The tentacle was being brought towards the beast's colossal jaws. Thorfinn's heart pounded, and he muttered a silent prayer to Baldr for courage. Steeling himself, he leapt from the tentacle, plunging his sword into another one and swinging away from the gaping maw.
He slid down, blood and seawater spraying around him. Tentacles writhed and lashed, trying to throw him off. He jumped from one to another, each leap taking him farther from the creature's mouth. But the Leviathan was relentless. It manoeuvred him directly over its gaping maw, preparing to swallow him whole. With a surge of desperation, Thorfinn threw his sword in a spinning arc again. The blade sliced through the tentacle he was sliding down, severing it completely. He leapt, watching as the severed tentacle fell into the beast's mouth. Timing his move perfectly, he threw a harpoon into the tentacle that had just sunk into the beast's mouth. Lightning struck the harpoon, sending a bolt of divine fury into the creature's face. The Leviathan screamed, its roar shaking the very ocean, and thrashed wildly. The water churned, creating enormous waves that threatened to engulf everything.
Thorfinn aimed for one of the massive waves and, as he fell, he threw the boat out, shouting, "Vaxa!" (grow). The boat expanded just as it hit a hundred-foot wave. Thorfinn grabbed onto one of the ropes, clinging desperately as the wave carried his vessel nearly vertically. The ship rode the wave, teetering on the edge of destruction.
The Leviathan's massive head broke the surface again, its eyes locking onto Thorfinn. The Leviathan emerged from the water, its colossal form ignoring the lightning strikes from the storm above. The beast let out an ear-piercing screech that reverberated through the very core of Thorfinn's being, sending a shiver down his spine. It thrashed and swam towards him with terrifying speed.
Thorfinn's eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight. He was lucky the wave had carried him so far; otherwise, he would have already been swallowed by the monstrous creature. Grabbing the rudder, he quickly changed direction, heading towards the small island in the distance. The island was no bigger than half the size of Kattegat and completely barren. Thorfinn took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He grabbed a long rope, tying it securely around his waist, then took hold of five harpoons. With a leap, he jumped from his boat to the island. The boat instinctively came to a halt a short distance away.
As Thorfinn landed, panic surged through him. The massive creature was hurtling towards him with relentless fury. The water began to rise rapidly, flooding the island and reaching up to his waist. Thorfinn moved quickly, stabbing a harpoon into each corner of the island, securing them firmly in place. With the final harpoon in hand, he turned to face the approaching Leviathan. The glowing eyes of the beast locked onto him, and it roared once more. The force of the roar was so powerful that it sent Thorfinn stumbling backwards. Regaining his footing, he roared back, his voice raw and hoarse, determined to face the creature head-on.
The sail of his ship filled with wind, propelling it forward at incredible speed. Thorfinn was yanked backwards across the island, the rope tied around him pulling him along. The Leviathan, enraged, surged onto the island, its massive body crashing down with enough force to shake the ground beneath Thorfinn's feet. He squared himself in the rising water, bracing against the pull of the rope. With a final burst of strength, Thorfinn hurled the last harpoon straight into one of the creature's eyes. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, a massive bolt of lightning struck down from the sky, far more powerful than any that had come before. It was as if Mjolnir itself had struck the beast.
The lightning connected with all the harpoons simultaneously, creating a blinding stream of energy that engulfed the Leviathan. The sound was deafening, rupturing Thorfinn's eardrums and blinding him with its intensity. He coughed, dazed and disoriented, as he pulled himself back towards his ship, his body aching from the effort.
He managed to haul himself onto the deck, collapsing in exhaustion. He looked back at the Leviathan, his vision blurry and his hearing impaired. The smell of burnt flesh assaulted his senses, nearly causing him to retch. The Leviathan lay still, its head and upper body blackened and melted from the sheer force of the lightning strike. The other half of its body, still submerged in the sea, remained untouched.
A weary smile spread across Thorfinn's face as he realized he had done it. He had defeated the Leviathan. But the toll of the battle was too much. As the adrenaline ebbed away, darkness closed in, and he passed out on the deck, the sound of the storm fading into silence.
(AN: So Thorfinns little side quest is over and with the help of the gods he's killed the Leviathan. Tbh I felt like recent chapters were getting a bit bland and so I thought this would be a little exciting plus it introduces the gods physically. Plus it allows Thorfinn to get married to Rebekah, so it all ties in not to worry about that. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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