"Nay, thou didst not. What I wast born to do ist not to berserk. Calm thyself and dry thy tears."
He sighs, taking a deep breath.
"Know thee what the humans called the bear sarks? Monsters. Countless peoples raised prayers to their kind and benevolent god or gods, to save them from the Northmen. Our enemies pale before a foe who wilt not flee, wilt not fall, wilt not feel. Tis true... I am a monster. I kill without thought, and dare mine foes to end me with e'ery breath. I do not feel guilt or sorrow for't, only shame that not a one yet hast had the strength of arm and stomach to do it yet. I am no hero, not like thee. Ask about e'en golden Asgard... most consider the madness a curse. Tis a terrible thing for a warrior to fall to. It takes their mind, their heart, their emotions, their ability to love, to enjoy a long and fabled existence... enjoy the fruits of immortality. And tis true...I do not savor tomorrow. It hast no meaning to me but another day I might serve, another I might fight, another I might die. And if it happens, I wilt glory, and roar the praise to he with the might to better the Bear of Asgard. I do not fear him... he wilt end the madness.. he wilt end a monster, likely with more blood on his hands than he, e'en if he ist amongst our foes. I am better than they /because, and only because/ I serve a better place and better people. Tis only in that I serve thee that I am in the slightest a better thing, a better monster than anyone who took the field today.
So mine job ist not to berserk. It lends me strength, aye, but tis not mine job. Mine job ist to die to buy thee and Asgard precious moments. And I didst that job... and the lesser monsters still failed to end me. Thou took nothing, I wast true.
Do not apologize to me... I ask three things, and three things alone of thee, e'er."
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