Tyranny of Steel - Chapter 977

Freyja glared towards the three Norn sisters, who were the masters of fate within the Germanic Pantheon. After being thoroughly rejected by the target of her desires, the goddess was not only outraged, but on a warpath, seeking a way to get back at Berengar for his most heinous of sins.

Never before in her life had Freyja been rejected by a man. The gods of all pantheons would fight among themselves to get a chance at entering her pants. And yet, one minor emperor from the mortal plane had thoroughly disregarded her advances. It not only hurt Freyja’s pride as a woman, but as a goddess of beauty as well. If she could not seduce a mortal man, then she was undeserving of her position.

In an attempt to seek vengeance for this humiliation, she had opted to learn more about her target. As a result, she decided to visit the various deities and supernatural being who had come into contact with the man to learn more about him, and especially his destiny.

Wyrd gazed at the redheaded beauty, who, as if in an act of defiance, stubbornly clung to Linde’s form with a nervous expression on her cute face. No longer was the weaver of fate wearing Adela’s adolescent appearance.

Instead, she wore the form of a teenage blonde-haired girl, with a petite and skinny figure. Her hair was tied into twintails like before, but instead of modelling them after Adela’s appearance, they were curly, and mid-length, along with center parted bangs. Her arms, shoulders, and upper chest were covered in Norse tattoos the color of blood.

She appeared as an unnatural mixture of a na?ve, and innocent teenage girl, while still having the mature stoic expression of one who had seen the weave of fate, and understood everything that had ever happened, and would eventually come to pass.

Naturally, she knew why a major player like the Goddess Freyja would be visiting her and her sisters. Thus, with a slight sigh of defeat, Wyrd was quick to give voice to her thoughts.

“You have come to inquire about Berengar, son of Sieghard. Am I correct in this assumption?”

A petty sneer appeared on Freyja’s pretty face as she crossed her arms beneath her hefty bosom and pouted in silence. This response was enough for Wyrd to understand the truth of the matter. She was quick to give voice to her past dealings with the man, even if she knew it would bring him some trouble. After all, though she herself had a bit of attraction to Berengar, she would rather not make an enemy out of Freyja.

“It is true that he once came here, where I spoke with him about matters of fate. He drank from Urearbrunnr and saw that which destiny had in store for him. If you wish to do the same, then I can summon forth my well. However, not even you, as powerful as you are, can change the man’s fate.”

After saying this, Wyrd summoned forth her well, where she handed a ladle filled with the starry water over to the goddess Freyja. Without hesitation, the divine beauty drank down the contents of the well of fate. In doing so, she witnessed Berengar’s destiny, from birth to death, in both lives. When she finally come to her senses, she shuddered in confusion as a simple question escaped her lips.

“How can this be possible?”

For the first time since meeting with Freyja, a slight smile emerged on Wyrd’s lips as she taunted the goddess without fear.

“Now you see why Odin has chosen him… Do you still wish to get your vengeance now that you know the truth?”

The clenched fists that Freyja had arrived with suddenly loosened as her determination wavered upon learning the truth. After a heavy sigh, she shook her head, before a wicked grin appeared on the goddess’s flawless face.

“No… Now that I know the truth, I won’t harm the man. However, I suddenly have thought of a much more devious way of getting my revenge on him.”

A look of concern appeared on Wyrd’s face as she shook her head in silence. Just why did Berengar have to go and provoke a frightening entity like Freyja? However, now that the goddess had learned the truth, there was no turning back. Thus, Wyrd could only ask her to leave the world tree in peace.

“Now that you know, you are free to leave…”

Despite the rude tone in which Wyrd spoke to Freyja, the goddess did not take offense, and instead, with a glint of determination in her sky-blue eyes, she left the domain of the Norn sisters willingly and without incident. Only after she was gone did Wyrd manage to sigh in relief before uttering her thoughts aloud.

“I hope he is okay…”

—

Berengar lie in a muddy trench with his rifle in hand. He was dressed in the combat uniform that was currently issued to the German Jagdkommandos. However, instead of a weapon modelled after the Stg-44, he was wielding an Mpi-Kms 74N, which was the East German Aks-74N from his past life.

As a 75mm shell erupted nearby, and the shrapnel pinged off of his steel helmet, Berengar screamed the words he never thought he would say in his life.

“Die you jap fuckers!’

Afterward, he took aim down the iron sights of his AK series rifle and squeezed the trigger with his finger just long enough to fire a three-round burst. The trio of bullets flew through the air and rapidly collided with the enemy’s torso before spewing blood and flesh across the mud below. After killing this hostile soldier, Berengar released his trigger finger and readjusted his line of sight before firing towards another oncoming enemy.

It was at this moment that a chemical shell containing mustard gas erupted in his trench line, causing the men beneath his command to spill out of the defended position and into machine gun fire in a desperate attempt to equip their gas masks. However, Berengar was too slow, and as he choked to death on the poisonous miasma, a beautiful figure appeared in his vision. His last dying breath was the names of the woman he longed for.

“Linde?”

In the next moment, everything faded into a white mist. All that remained of the previous scene were Berengar and the redheaded beauty. It was only now that Berengar realized he was dreaming. Knowing that the beauty standing across from him with a pleasant smile on her pretty face was not his wife, he threw up his hands in defeat and sighed.

“I didn’t think you would be invading my dreams again so soon, Freyja. I find it hard to believe that you wasted so much energy just so you can apologize to me. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

An alluring smile appeared on Freyja’s lips as she gazed at the heavenly light that existed within their surroundings. In an instant, she closed the distance by dragging Berengar into her arms with an invisible force. Once the man was in her embrace, she violated his tongue with her own. An act that Berengar immediately tried to refuse, but suddenly realized he was powerless to do so. After Freyja finally let the man go, she whispered something in his ears that made him shudder.

“Here, in your dreams, I am in control. If I can’t have you in the real world, then I’ll just have to visit you while you sleep. Get ready Berengar son of Sieghard, because I am going to violate you every night, until you get on your knees and beg for me to be the mother of your child! Nerthus? How dare you mention that old hag as a superior alternative to me? I will show you why I am the most desired woman in all the cosmos.”

After saying this, Freyja’s appearance shifted. She no longer took the form of Linde, but instead her appearance was that of a golden-haired tattooed beauty who was so remarkable that even Berengar could not resist her charms.

With the snap of her fingers, both Berengar’s clothes, and her own disappeared, meanwhile the two of them appeared within a peaceful meadow that Berengar could only surmise was Folkvangr, the legendary hall of Freyja, an afterlife for half of those who died on the battlefields.

In the next moment, Freyja, and Berengar were transported inside of a longhouse, where a bed filled with furs was waiting for the two of them, meanwhile a fire was blazing in the center of the house, whose warmth spread to every corner of the building.

Berengar could not say a thing, as if an overwhelming force was restricting him from doing so. He had no choice but to play along with the will of the goddess, who dragged him onto the bed and stuffed his face into her flawless twat.

As much as the man wanted to resist, he could not do so, instead he was forced to lick at Freyja’s nether regions for what appeared to be a lifetime. Bringing her to climax on his face, over and over again.

Perhaps Freyja had enjoyed herself too much during this time, because for the briefest of moments Berengar felt her control over him fade, which he used to teach her a valuable lesson, As she was squirting from the skill of his tongue, Berengar repositioned the goddess, and stuffed her tight twat with his massive cock. An act of which caught her by surprise. She immediately called out and tried to stop the man, but her commands no longer worked.

“Stop! Please… You aren’t supposed to…”

However, Berengar ignored the woman’s request, and pulled tightly on her long braided hair while ramming her as hard and fast as he could.

“You think you can take advantage of me while I’m asleep?! I’ll show you just how much of a man I am! By the time I’m done with you, you will be coming to my dreams every night just to worship me!”

Thus, Berengar had taken control of the situation, and within this dream where time and space were what one made of it, Berengar fucked Freyja in every position he could manage for what seemed like a hundred lifetimes. In the end, he awoke with a fat smile on his face. One which his women would not understand when they saw it.

As for Freyja, when she awoke within her divine domain, she felt violated. What was supposed to be an act of vengeance against the man who had rejected her had turned into the man’s personal pleasure system. Out of all her years as a goddess of fertility, she did not believe that she had been ravaged so ruthlessly, and for so long.

Though she gritted her teeth in rage, thinking about how to teach the man a lesson the next time he fell asleep, there was something engraved in Freyja’s beating heart that she did not yet realize. An unhealthy obsession for the man who rejected her.