Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods Read Free

a long, brown coat.  It appeared to be leather, but was worn through time and use.  Unfortunately, he did not face as docile an opponent as a tree. 
                  Instead, Daniel Uzuki leveled his pistol-gripped shotgun against a cunning monster.  The fiend reeked of death.  Its dull brown skin clung tight to its body, outlining every bone, vein and muscle in the demon’s frame.  But he wasn’t concerned with the ugliness or the smell.  His worries came instead from the twelve-inch long bone claws extending from the fingers of the monster’s right hand.
                  He also wasn’t excited about the blood dripping from its fangs. 
                  “Humanoid” is a word that could be used to describe monsters such as this.  However, few people ever did. 
                  Despite the monster’s intimidating visage, he remained calm.  He drew his strength from the 12-gauge shotgun held tight in his hands.  He hesitated only to consider that there were other demons nearby. 
                  He stood, watching the monster. 
                  It stood, watching him. 
                  The others attacked. 
                  High up on the mountain peak, Zeke loosed his grip on the katana and waited.
                  Crack .  The gunshot rang out through the air. 
                  Next came the terrible scream of the monster.  It was a sound that he recognized instantly.  Every human on Earth knew that sound.  Now he knew what the gunfighter had been shooting at.
                  Not that there was much doubt before.
                  Crack.  Crack.  Crack.  The sharp explosions of the gun echoed off the mountains, disturbing the other-worldliness of the scene. 
                  Crack.  Crack.  These shots rang higher than the others.  The fighter had changed guns.
                  Crack.
                  A monster screamed. 
                  Then nothing. 
                  The battle was over.  Thankful for the silence, Zeke turned back to his training.  Raising his sword to an en-guard, he found his chosen fruit. 
                  He ran. 
                  His sword cut through the first fruit, as he planned.  He jumped and hit another.  Leaping off the rock, he sprang higher, stabbing the heavy sword as gently as he could.  He nearly stumbled as his foot hit the thin branch, but he caught himself and pushed higher.  Reaching the top of the tree, he spun his sword downward. 
                  A piece of fruit fell. 
                  So did Zeke.  On his way down, he pulled the sword.  Another piece of fruit was severed from the boughs.  He landed on his feet, sword extended in follow-through position. 
                  “Impressive,” came the voice of a young man behind him.  “You must be Ezekiel Branderlief.” 
                  He didn’t turn.  “If you’ve come to kill me, it’s only fair to let you know your gun is jammed.”
                  “Is it?” Daniel asked, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.
                  Zeke stood up straight, relaxing his sword arm.  “You made a lot of noise down there.  Sounds like you’re using inferior ammunition.  That last shot you fired didn’t recycle.”
                  Taking advantage of his turned back, Daniel pulled out the .45 pistol he kept.  He was right—the copper casing of his last shot was fused in the chamber.  The ejector had broken off trying to pull it out.  The gun was useless now—it would need to be repaired when he returned to Nifelheim.  “If you mean to scare me,” he replied, masking his intimidation.  “It’s only fair to let you know you only nicked your third