I Reincarnated as Thor

The night air felt as sharp as a thousand blades against Bertinus's face. He stared at the towering figure before them — the Frost King, his icy crown catching the aurora lights like shards of frozen stars. Each of his steps sent cracks spreading across the snow and ice.

Sif tightened her grip on her sword, standing firm beside Bertinus. Her breath came in short clouds, her eyes flicking between the king and the advancing frost creatures around them.

Bertinus swallowed hard, feeling the pulse of Mjolnir in his hand. It hummed with raw power, but deep inside he felt a coil of doubt tightening.

The Frost King raised his massive arm, and the creatures behind him let out a deafening roar that echoed across the frozen plains.

"Thor," the Frost King called, his voice echoing in the night like a distant avalanche. "You wear his face, you hold his hammer… but are you truly worthy of his name?"

Bertinus's fingers curled tighter around Mjolnir. He stepped forward, sparks dancing at his shoulders.

"I am Thor," he shouted back, his voice shaking the stars above. "And I am Bertinus. I am both!"

A strange hush fell over the field. Even the frost beasts paused, as if listening.

The Frost King let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Then prove it!"

With a violent sweep of his arm, a wave of icy mist surged forward, curling around Bertinus and Sif like living chains. Sif tried to slash through it, but the mist only wrapped tighter.

Bertinus fought to breathe, frost creeping up his armor and burning his skin. He focused on the hammer, drawing the lightning from deep within. Slowly, the glow around Mjolnir began to grow brighter, cutting through the icy fog.

"Hold on!" he yelled to Sif, forcing his arm up. Lightning burst outward in a blinding flash, shattering the mist and sending frost beasts stumbling backward.

Sif fell to her knees, gasping. "I thought… I thought that was it," she wheezed.

Bertinus helped her up quickly. "We're not finished yet," he said, his voice low and fierce.

From the far side of the ice field, the Frost King stepped forward again, raising both hands. Giant ice pillars shot up from the ground, forming a circle around them. The air grew heavier, colder than before.

Sif glanced around, panic flickering across her face. "He's trapping us!"

Bertinus closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the storm inside him. Memories of his old life rushed back — the small apartment, the ordinary mornings, the day he first woke as Thor.

He opened his eyes, sharp and clear now. "We break through together," he said firmly.

Sif looked at him, a spark of trust lighting her eyes. She nodded once.

Bertinus slammed Mjolnir into the ice at his feet, sending shockwaves crackling outward. Cracks split across the ground, climbing up the towering ice pillars. Sif leapt forward, slicing with her sword, each strike breaking the walls further.

The Frost King roared, raising his arms higher. A massive spear of ice formed above him, sharp as a mountain peak, aimed right at Bertinus.

Sif screamed his name.

Bertinus looked up, planting his feet. As the ice spear dropped, he swung Mjolnir up with all his strength. Lightning exploded from the hammer, blasting the spear into shimmering dust that rained down like stars.

But the Frost King wasn't finished. His eyes glowed brighter, his body expanding with power.

Bertinus panted, exhaustion and pain crawling through him. "Sif, get the others," he shouted. "Tell them to prepare! We finish this together."

Sif hesitated, but she saw the fierce fire in his eyes. She nodded and ran back toward the camp, her cloak trailing behind her like a flame.

Left alone, Bertinus turned back to the Frost King. The giant's blue eyes locked on him, a silent promise of the battle to come.

Bertinus raised Mjolnir once more, lightning swirling around him like a living storm.

"Come, Frost King," he whispered under his breath, his voice shaking but steady. "Let's see if I'm truly worthy."

The Frost King charged forward, each step shaking the ice like thunder. Bertinus took a deep breath, braced himself, and sprinted to meet him head-on, lightning crackling wildly across the field.

Their clash lit up the entire Frost Fields like a second dawn ; and in that blinding light, the fate of Asgard hung by a single thread.