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As Arthur finished speaking, a towering gray figure— over three meters tall— suddenly materialized above the Dark Elf leader's head, descending with a powerful gust of wind before slamming down with a thunderous crash.
The Dark Elf leader looked up in shock, clearly not anticipating such an abrupt and overwhelming assault.
The most terrifying part? There had been absolutely no warning.
By the time he registered what was happening, an enormous hand was already pressing down from above, gripping his skull and smashing him into the ground. There were no pleasantries, no taunts— just raw, unrelenting force grinding him into the floor like a rag doll.
''BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!''
Under Arthur's control, the brute showed no mercy, mercilessly hammering the Dark Elf leader into the golden floors of Asgard's palace.
''BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!''
To the untrained eye, it might have seemed like the Golden Palace was undergoing some extremely aggressive renovations.
The once-proud Dark Elf leader, who had been smugly exchanging words with Arthur mere moments ago, was now utterly disheveled in under three seconds. His dark, ominous battle armor— while never particularly fashionable— was now in tatters, riddled with cracks and scorched marks.
His meticulously braided hair had unraveled into a wild, tangled mess.
His once-icy gaze had dulled into a vacant stare. His posture— half-limp and barely upright— made it painfully obvious that he had no idea what had just happened. It was as if his brain had short-circuited from the sheer absurdity of it all.
Before he could even attempt to piece together his thoughts, the gray brute lifted him again— only to slam him down once more, over and over, as if he were tenderizing meat.
The repeated impacts were so brutal that one might have thought Arthur was preparing an elaborate feast— pounding, seasoning, and coating the Dark Elf for maximum effect, perhaps even making Odin's royal chefs green with envy.
''ENOUGH!!!!!''
As the leader of the Dark Elves, how could he tolerate such humiliation?
With a furious roar, an eerie, dark energy erupted from his body. The brute instinctively recoiled, momentarily loosening his grip.
The Dark Elf leader's eyes burned with a crimson glow as he locked onto Frigga, his voice laced with fury: "Are you mocking me— Ugh…!"
The last word never left his lips. Before he could finish, the brute's other hand grabbed his head once more and ''slammed'' him back down. With one massive hand holding his skull in place, the other curled into a massive fist, delivering relentless blows to his already battered face.
Arthur winced at the brutal display, while even Frigga sighed with a hint of pity. "Perhaps a swift end would be more merciful?"
"Fine," Arthur replied with a nod, summoning a streak of silver light as he stepped forward. But just as he was about to strike, his instincts flared, and he abruptly swung his sword to the side.
''CLANG!''
A sharp metallic clash rang out as Arthur's blade intercepted a sudden attack—a pitch-black, corrupted elf lunging at him from the shadows.
The creature's face was grotesque, its mouth gaping wide as it exhaled a thick, ominous black mist. The impact forced Arthur backward, but his left hand— concealed behind him— was already brimming with energy. Without hesitation, he unleashed a concentrated burst of searing white flames.
''ROARRR!!!!!''
The corrupted elf let out a guttural scream, staggering backward before retaliating with a vicious kick to Arthur's chest.
A layer of shimmering golden energy enveloped Arthur in an instant, reinforcing his body with an armor-like resilience. He retaliated with a counter-kick, and as the two forces collided, a shockwave rippled through the air.
Neither of them moved an inch.
For Arthur, this was no issue.
But for the cursed elf, pain surged through his body— because Arthur's palm was still firmly pressed against his forehead, heat radiating from it.
Sensing the danger, the elf quickly leaped backward, his predatory gaze shifting toward Frigga. But before he could make his move, his eyes landed on the golden shield surrounding her. With a feral snarl, he threw a punch at the barrier.
The shield rippled from the impact but showed no signs of breaking.
At that exact moment, Arthur surged forward once again.
The wings of the Crow God unfurled behind him as he soared, their dark energy radiating like a storm of razor-sharp projectiles. In an instant, a barrage of obsidian feather blades shot forth with deadly precision.
The cursed elf's gaze flickered from Frigga to Arthur, then to his fallen leader. Without hesitation, he curled his body into a defensive spin, cutting through the barrage of feather blades like a missile before hurtling straight at the brute.
The cursed elf's strength was formidable. Arthur's controlled behemoth had been singularly focused on finishing off the Dark Elf leader, leaving him vulnerable to the sudden assault. The impact sent the massive figure rolling, demolishing several nearby structures in the process.
Yet the cursed elf did not press his advantage.
With Arthur and the brute in play, today's plan was already a failure.
Making a split-second decision, he seized his battered leader—now barely clinging to life— and in two swift strides, reached the palace balcony. Without breaking stride, he vaulted over the edge and disappeared into the night.
As he glanced down at his leader's bruised and bloodied face, the cursed elf felt a pang of frustration.
What had begun as a carefully orchestrated mission had spiraled into disaster at the hands of these two.
By the time Arthur reached the balcony, the two fugitives were already boarding a sleek, axe-shaped aircraft that roared to life and shot off into the sky.
After a brief consideration, Arthur chose not to pursue it.
There were more pressing matters at hand, and those two would prove useful later.
Turning back to Frigga, he dispelled the shimmering energy shield with a flick of his wrist.
"Can we call it a day?" Frigga asked, watching him expectantly.
Arthur hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "I think this is just the beginning."
He strode over to the brute, efficiently storing him back into his Disassemble Space before glancing at Frigga. "Tell me— how much do you know about Ragnarok?"
Frigga's expression shifted slightly, but she quickly masked it with a serene smile. "From here on, everything will proceed according to your decisions."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. If this wasn't part of a grander scheme, he would be hard-pressed to believe it.
"Why do I always feel like I've been maneuvered into one of your traps?" he muttered, mentally piecing together the events that had led them here.
The reawakening of the Aether, the countdown to Ragnarok, the chaos unfolding in the Golden Palace— had Odin foreseen it all? Arthur found himself leaning toward that conclusion. Perhaps Odin had seen the storm coming but lacked the means to prevent it.
Instead, he had granted Arthur absolute freedom— to act as he saw fit.
And in doing so, Frigga had been spared. If Odin had indeed foreseen these events, then the fact that Frigga was still alive likely strengthened his confidence in Arthur's role.
Realizing this, Arthur looked up and let out a dry chuckle. "In that case, I think you deserve a few days of rest. What do you say to a vacation in Kamar-Taj?"
Frigga's eyes lit up with interest. "That sounds like an excellent idea."
Arthur blinked at her enthusiasm, momentarily at a loss for words.
(End of Chapter)