Freya clenched her grip around her mace, waves of pain assaulting her as broken bones and torn muscles flared up with each breath. She understood that continuing to fight in this condition would be futile, yet she refused to simply give up. The battlefield was in chaos—every warrior locked in combat—and she was the only one who could contend against the Behemoth.
Determination flared in the Viking princess's eyes as she bent her knees, intending to use her entire body as a battering ram against the Behemoth, clashing body with body. There was no doubt in her mind that this was incredibly dangerous—perhaps even suicidal—but there was no hesitation. She steadied herself, focusing on the crack in the Behemoth's skull—the weak point she had created earlier.
