"Baldr?" Týr said. "He's… since we were little, our old man had aspirations of glory and conquest for us. Being sons of Giants, I think Odin expected more out of Thor and me than most of his other kids, including Baldr." Týr sat in front of a monitor, monologuing to an unseen audience. "As kids, Thor and I always had a leg up on Baldr when it came to strength. That's our divine heritage. However, up to his bid for invulnerability, Thor and I could never beat him in two areas: speed and smarts. I'm not saying we're dumber than rocks, but Baldr's far quicker on the uptake than most people think he is. Guy picks up stuff far faster than I do, but…"
Baldr's leg blurred as it flew straight down at Samson's face. Instinct sided with him this time, and Samson side-stepped to the right. Baldr's kick sliced through the air and smashed the floor below, sending up gravel. Samson turned to his left, stepped, and threw a right cross. Baldr saw it and ducked under the punch. He could feel the air displaced by the attack. The hell? Baldr thought. His punches were not that strong before! I gotta create some space! Samson was at his back, and he had to act quickly. There was not enough space to throw something powerful. Baldr spun around and charged into Samson, avoiding another right cross. Baldr put his entire weight into his tackle and wrapped his arms around Samson's waist, intending to knock Samson back and mount him for another pummeling. At the moment of contact, Samson leaned forward, letting Baldr's tackle throw his legs out into a sprawl. His toes dug into the arena floor.
Baldr could not move him. "You could try a little innovation, you know?" Samson said. Baldr was now holding them both up by himself, and Samson towered over him.
Crap. Baldr thought. Samson slammed his fists into both sides of Baldr's rib cage. Pain flew through Baldr's body. Samson did not hesitate; following the crushing pincer attack, he followed up with another powerful cross right into Baldr's back. The force of the blow broke Baldr's hold on Samson and sent him sprawling onto the arena floor. Samson raised his right foot above Baldr's head. With his newly acquired strength, Samson fired his foot straight down. Baldr could feel the attack coming and shifted his head to the left, barely avoiding the attack. Debris dislodged from the attacks sprinkled Baldr's face. Baldr moved with grace and speed, wrapping his body around Samson's now planted right leg. Baldr pulled his right leg in like a spring and fired it into Samson's stomach. The blow was clean and caused Samson to stagger backwards. "Got ya!" Baldr shouted.
"You do, but can you hold on!?" Samson shouted. Samson reached down and clasped his hands over Baldr's biceps and began tightening his grip. More pain flew through Baldr's body as Samson's fingers began to break his skin.
"What the hell are you!?" Baldr roared. He unwrapped his legs from Samson's. As he unwound, he used the momentum to spin his hips, delivering a powerful left kick to Samson's temple. The kick knocked Samson over and loosened his grip. Baldr quickly got to his feet and checked his arms. Five small, shallow holes in each bicep. Blood started to flow from them. Damn it, this not how this is supposed to happen! Baldr screamed internally.
Samson returned to his feet and fighting stance. He took a glance at Baldr's ribs and biceps. Bruises on the former and blood on the latter. He smiled at his work. "Talked yourself up earlier," Samson said. "But man, this is embarrassing. Still can't do a thing without your invulnerability."
Baldr glared at him. His temper began to flare. Samson's words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. They reminded him too much of Týr and their spars. However, the situation now being life or death made the harsh truth a painful reality now more than ever. Though he regretted doing it, Baldr's style of combat relied too much on Svalinn's Shield. Complacency seeped in, and as such, he grew sloppy, and now he faced an opponent who made his current style incompatible. He had to change, or he'd die.
Death, being a potential outcome in a situation, has a powerful effect on people. For some, it's an intrinsic part of life either by occupation or environment, and so they become accustomed to it, borderline even numb to it. Law Enforcement, Firefighters, Construction Workers, Engineers, those from rough homes, and even violence-filled neighborhoods or towns. It's not that they do not lose the fear of death; rather, it's a bizarre acceptance of the situation and the adaptable facet of the human psyche to face it and acclimate. Those who do not have it hanging over their heads constantly, however, cannot automatically adjust to it and, therefore, will more often than not seek safety rather than confront it. Baldr was now in such a situation. For the first time in his long life, an obstacle appeared that he could no longer just walk through or outlast. Before him stood a human, not a god or something supernatural, that could genuinely kill him.
Panic slowly started to set in. Things were not going his way. He had to do the one thing he hated more than anything to survive. Breathing slowly, Baldr took his fighting stance but brought his arms closer to his body to cover his torso, his hands resting on each side of his jaw.
"No way…" Týr said.
"That looks like your stance," Thor said.
"It's one of them, and it's intended for defense and counters. I do that to Baldr every time we spar. He's never done that before."
"He's in a situation he's never been in before," Set added. Týr and Thor looked over to him. "Baldr's idea of fighting is just wading through everything until he gets his hands on you, right? That doesn't work in this situation. Look at Samson."
Both gods and Yama looked down and studied Samson. "His muscles…" Týr said.
"They're larger than before. More defined, too." Yama added.
"Exactly. Whatever happened to harm Baldr also strengthened Samson. It likely will happen again, if I am correct. Now… Baldr must contend with an opponent who not only can hurt him but may grow in power the longer this match goes on."
"How do you know about Samson's ability?" Týr asked.
"It's called research, Týr," Set said deadpan. "Do any of you think Brunhilde picked her Fighters at random? The three fighters we've seen all possess the potential to kill Gods under the right circumstances. Do you have any idea, other than your dream fight, of the legacies of these warriors?"
Týr remained silent. Had he known, would it have made a difference? Would he have tried harder to stop Baldr?
"What's this? Baldr's stance has changed! After that nasty exchange, it looks like Baldr is changing up his strategy! But he's taken some nasty hits, folks. Will it make a difference against Samson?" Heimdall shouted. Baldr's bruised ribs, punctured biceps, and cut abdomen. Samson's bruised abdomen, damaged nose, and battered face. Both fighters bore marks of their battle but refused to show their effect to their opponent. Samson took the initiative. Kicking off the floor, Samson dashed towards Baldr. Baldr remained still, waiting for his opponent's attack. Samson came to a stop just at the point Baldr came into his range and fired three quick jabs at his opponent. Pivoting on the balls of his feet and shifting his knees, Baldr barely avoided each blow and threw a quick jab just as Samson's left hand was returning to his face. The simple blow struck Samson's jaw, but as it touched his face, Samson pivoted to his right to weaken the blow. As he turned, Samson swung his left leg straight for Baldr's right. Without missing a beat, Baldr raised his leg, barely avoiding Samson's kick, and drove his raised leg into Samson's ribs. Just before contact, Samson managed to lower his left arm and block the kick with his elbow. The force of the strike sent him skidding on the ground back a few yards, but he remained on his feet.
"You idiot! Stop trying to outmuscle him!" Hlökk yelled.
"He's faster than before, but he's scared. Trying to fight me like before will wreck him." Samson said.
"No duh. It's why he switched to striking instead of grappling. He knows he's not going to win that way. Amongst Odin's sons, he's the fastest and the smartest. That rune on his chest confirms he's now using his real powers."
"Fastest and smartest. Guess that means he's going to keep his distance and chip away at me…or wait until an opening."
"I don't know! Geez, you're the fighter! Use your fighter brain and fight smarter!"
"Sounds like you got confidence in me."
"Maybe I do, so what!?" Hlökk screamed. Samson laughed.
Baldr remained in his spot, waiting. His thoughts shuffling through countless possibilities. The protection is gone. Was that his ability? Baldr thought. Maybe combined with Hlökk's. Possibly. He's also stronger than before. Damn it. What's causing his power to increase? Does it affect Hlökk's? Is Hlökk making him stronger? Is it because of the dagger? Why doesn't he use it more? Regardless, caution is the best action here. Both fighters were coming to the same conclusion. Recklessness was death, and tactics were the true key to victory. On Samson's side, his temper and arrogance clouded his keen mind for combat. On Baldr's, his ego, Samson's dagger, and the mystery of Samson's abilities. They came to the same conclusion. Samson and Baldr, while remaining in their stances, slowly crept towards the other. Breathing steady, form intact, and instinct honed to a razor's edge, the two neared the point of their ideal range. Seconds felt like hours. The pressure continued to grow and reach its boiling point. "Hey, Human," Baldr said. Samson remained silent. The two continued to inch towards each other. "Hey, Human. How does it feel being a tool?" Samson stopped dead in his tracks. Baldr smiled. "That's what I thought." Baldr stopped and stood straight up. "Been thinking about it for a while now…why are you here?"
"To stop the destruction of Humanity."
"Yeah-yeah-yeah, I get that's what Brunhilde wants, but not what I asked. I know why I'm here, and I got a pretty good inkling of why everyone else on my side is here, but I don't get why you Humans are fighting. Brunhilde started this whole mess. Two are already dead on your side. Why add more? Why isn't she down here fighting? Sounds to me like she's throwing you all at us because she can't fight her own battles."
"How dare you say that about her!" Hlökk shouted.
"True," Baldr continued, deaf to Hlökk's outbursts. "The Valkyries are fighting alongside you, but let's be honest, she's not down here. You had to realize this, right? Or are you as dumb as you are strong?" Samson glared daggers at Baldr. "Guess you are. Then again…tools don't need to think, do they?" Samson snapped and whipped a lightning-fast jab at Baldr. Baldr quickly regained his stance and stepped into the attack. As Samson's fist reached his right shoulder, Baldr twisted to his left and pushed Samson's fist out of the way with a shoulder parry. Slamming his right foot down outside of Samson's left, Baldr cracked a powerful left cross straight into Samson's jaw. The force sent Samson back a few steps, but Baldr refused to let him gain space. Bobbing and weaving, Baldr dodged Samson's blows, passed through the danger zone of his punches, and came just inches from Samson's chest. Baldr launched a sharp right elbow outside of Samson's field of vision and into his left ribs, and followed it up with a left uppercut. Both moves hit straight home and threw Samson off his feet. Baldr made a short hop off his right foot, raising his left before sending it crashing down towards Samson's face. Samson rolled to his right just in time to avoid the stomp and returned to his feet. Baldr rushed him and continued throwing punches. Samson could not keep up and was forced to pull his arms in to cover. "I'm right, aren't I!?" Baldr shouted joyfully. "That's why you're here! You're not just a tool to kill people with! At least tools don't think about others' words! You're more like a mad dog who can't stand when people call him on his crap!" Baldr's assault continued. The blows rained on Samson without end. Were it not for the boost he received from completing his first vow, he truly believed his arms would have broken already. "Tell me I'm right, Human! You don't fight to protect people! You fight 'cause others point you at something, and they say 'kill.' Say it!"The blows continued. "Say it!" Samson's arms started growing numb. "SAAAAAY IIIIIIT!" Baldr kicked the inside of Samson's left leg, lifting it into the air and destroying Samson's balance. He pulled his leg back and swung a right hook as his foot returned. Samson barely got his left forearm in front of it before it made contact. The blow sent Samson to the ground. "Damn, you were smart enough to talk earlier but it looks like I knocked the bits of sense right out of that head of yours."
"Damn it!" Brunhilde shouted as she slammed her fist into the railing.
"What's happening to Samson?" Göll asked while trembling.
"Baldr figured him out. He now knows how to get under Samson's skin and is using it to throw off his game. That's why I had him team up with Hlökk besides their abilities; she's loud and temperamental enough to pull his attention away…but even that had its limits."
"But it's just trash-talking, right? Why would something like that get to someone as strong as Samson?"
"He's not," Li said. Both Valkyries turned to him, puzzled. Li continued to look down at the arena, watching the weary Samson stand up and unsheathe his dagger. "Samson is physically strong and possesses more talent for combat than most I've seen. However, he's weak in spirit and mind. Likely… an effect from his time alive. I doubt he ever found a way to overcome it. If he doesn't figure something out soon…we will be down three losses and four away from certain death." Li looked over to Brunhilde. "Are you certain you can stomach that?"
Their eyes met. Brunhilde's resolution burned within her deep blue eyes. "Absolutely. I trust him, as I do all the Einherjar who are willing to fight for mankind. Do not question me, Li."
Li smiled and bowed. "Apologies. I take back what I said." All three returned their gaze to the arena.
"Damn him," Samson said gasping. His form was sloppy, and his breathing was irregular. He put too much energy into his few attacks earlier, and his defense ate more than he wanted to admit. His mind was trying to fight back against Baldr's words. I'm not a tool. I'm not a dog. I'm a human! I'm a warrior! I fight for my reasons! I'm not… Hlökk appeared next to Samson, eyeing him."Hlökk, not now."
"Samson…"
"I don't need you screaming in my ear."
"No…that's not what I wanted to say."
Baldr stood there smiling at him. He could tell Hlökk was talking to Samson, but did not care. In his mind, there was nothing Hlökk could say or do to fix things, thanks to her personality. "Then what?"
Hlökk paused, hoping she would do this right."I'm sorry."
Samson paused. His body went limp.
"What?"
"All those things he said…I…probably did the same thing to you when I had you as my butler. You did everything I asked for…and I was mean to you rather than grateful. I'm sorry for treating you like that…you're not a tool or a dog…he may think that, but I don't. Brunhilde doesn't. She trusts you not because of your strength but as someone who cares and fights to protect people. Please…" Samson turned to look at her. She was crying. "Please…"Samson closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He made her cry. Worse, it's not because of something he did. It's because she was worried she had hurt him.
When was the last time anyone did that? Felt that? Samson felt a weight in his stomach. He had to fix the situation, and he knew only one surefire way to do it. "Hlökk, I need a favor from you," Samson said, smiling.
"What?" She asked as she wiped away her tears.
"My hair's a mess from all this. Would you mind fixing it up?" He pointed to his hair with his thumb. His hair was covered in dirt, blood, and some pieces of rock.
Her eyes widened. "B-but you never let me touch it before! Why now!?"
"It's hard for me to do on my own, to be honest. Plus, I trust you. I know it'll look great."
Samson's hair was always a sore spot for him when they started working together. Hlökk made the initial mistake of touching it when they first met, and Samson lost his temper with her, making Hlökk's older sisters look tame in comparison. Hlökk managed to grow a smile for the first time in the match and got to work. "Only because you recognize how good I am at it!" Samson's hair unfurled and began floating in the air around him.
Baldr looked on, unimpressed. "Oh no…whatever is happening?" Baldr said deadpan. Debris and blood flew away from Samson's hair, and its luster returned. Hlökk worked quickly, brushing, cleaning, and braiding. Six large braids hung from Samson's head, all held together by a seventh wrapped around them all at the top of Samson's neck. Holding the magnificent ponytail together was a simple gold hairpin piercing through all seven braids.
"Pretty good, am I right?" Hlökk said, holding up a mirror for Samson to see.
Samson looked at his reflection, touching his hair softly and smiling. "It's perfect. Ready to get back in the action?"
"Hell yeah!" Hlökk vanished.
"Good. Let's get him." Samson resumed his stance. He felt a surge of energy flow through him as his breathing relaxed. For the first time in the entire match, he was calm…his body language reflected it. Compared to earlier, his shoulders hung loose, his fists barely clenched, and he bounced ever so slightly on the balls and heels of his feet. These facets did not go unnoticed by Baldr.
"Had to have your little sweetheart play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear to calm you down? Heard of dirty dogs, but never thought I'd see one."
Samson gave a look of pure disappointment at the remark. "Only someone like you would think dirty thoughts about kids. Sometimes big brothers need to learn to be nicer to their younger siblings…even when they can be a bit much."
"I'm older than you!" Hlökk said. Samson chuckled a bit.
Baldr scowled and returned to his stance as well. Both fighters began to edge back towards the other. The pressure returned in full force. Baldr began to sweat slightly, but Samson became completely stoic. Nine meters. Seven meters. Five meters. Three meters. "Hey, Human. How's it-" One meter. One meter was all Samson needed to throw one single jab at Baldr's moving jaw. One meter and one jab to force Baldr's jaw back and tilt his head ever so slightly backward. With those two things, Samson silenced his opponent with a cathartic pop erupting from Baldr's face. Samson followed it quickly with a quick twist to the left and a powerful stab with his dagger. Baldr saw it through the pain and bobbed to his right. Exactly what Samson expected. Due to his rare use of the dagger and it causing Baldr's first major injury, Baldr subconsciously began to treat it as the biggest threat to his safety. As such, he would more often simply avoid it rather than aim for a counter due to prioritizing it. Which is why, once again, he did not see the left hook that followed the stab.
He simply anticipated it. Baldr brought his right arm up to cushion the blow. Samson's fist landed square on Baldr's arm…and knocked Baldr off-balance and into the air. Baldr flew a meter to his left but managed to get his feet under him as another stab came right from below his chin. Samson had side-stepped to keep up with Baldr, skidded to a halt, and stabbed his dagger upward. Crap! Baldr thought. The blow moved too quickly to pivot or bob. He had no choice. He leaned back, and Samson's stab flew past his face. Two of the towers behind him formed the barrier, and Baldr slammed into it. He knew he had no choice. It was either take the stab into his head or get thrown away from Samson by the rebound. Their positioning afforded him a better chance of escape despite the pain from the barrier. His plan was well-played.
Too bad Samson hoped he would do that. It would take him too long to reverse the dagger in his hand for another stab. Rather, he made sure the butt of the handle stuck out from his hand. Baldr flew from the barrier, right into Samson's descending fist. Barely a thought could pass through his mind as quickly as Samson's dagger-filled fist slammed into Baldr's skull. Baldr saw only darkness as his head snapped back and his body flung forward. The force of the blow, combined with the rebound, made Baldr flip backwards in the air a few meters. He made contact with the floor shortly after contact with Samson's dagger and skipped across the arena a few dozen yards before coming to a stop. Baldr's motionless body lay sprawled out on the arena floor. The human side of the arena roared with joy. The other Judges in the audience pumped their fists in the air and screamed Samson's name. The Gods, on the other side, went silent.
"HELL YESSSSSS!" Brunhilde yelled, pumping her fists in the air and laughing maniacally. Li and Göll stared at her, at each other, and back at her. "The Second Vow was made! Now he's even stronger than when he was alive!" She continued as she laughed.
"Is…is she like this often?" Li asked Göll.
"More than I'd like to admit…Sis likes to act all refined, but she's terrible at holding in her feelings when she's excited." Göll admitted sheepishly.
"Guess I shouldn't hold it against her. That attack was simple but well executed. Plus, he's far stronger than before. Shall we continue watching?"
"Folks, don't turn away! Samson's continuing his attack! Baldr's near out-cold, but that's not stopping him!" Heimdall yelled. Samson raced towards Baldr. He was too low for a safe stab, so Samson adjusted his newfound speed and prepped for a low kick.
"That human's going to attack him while he's down!? Cheater!" One of the gods in the audience yelled. More joined in, booing and heckling Samson. He did not care. He knew Baldr would do the same. A match with death on the line meant nothing was sacred. Especially when your opponent faked being unconscious. He did not know how or understand why, but Samson knew Baldr had already regained consciousness. Likely trying to buy time, Samson needed to hurry and keep him from thinking up another strategy. It was not something he wanted to admit, but each time Baldr executed a plan, it worked in his favor.
As Samson closed in on Baldr, he reared back his right leg and flung forward in a powerful soccer kick. "Crap!" Baldr yelled. Twisting quickly, Baldr turned to Samson's kick and curled up. The kick hit Baldr's shins square on, causing Baldr to roll. Using the force, Baldr rolled onto his feet as another right punch appeared centimeters from his face. Baldr ducked and stepped into Samson's frame and threw another left uppercut. "Got you!" Baldr said with his teeth clenched. Baldr's left fist connected…with Samson's right hand. The force of the blow blew back into Baldr's arm, jarring his wrist. He stopped it!? Baldr screamed in his head as his brain went into high-speed trying to figure out what had happened. How the hell did he stop it? Is he stronger and faster now? Wait… The image of Hlökk working on Samson's hair flashed into his mind. It was that!?
"Hey…" Samson said. "It's not a good idea to space out at a time like this." Samson cupped Baldr's fist in his own and swiped to his right. Baldr tipped over onto one foot. As Samson continued his sweeping motion, he reached back for his dagger, unsheathed it, and slashed at Baldr's stomach. The slash found Baldr's unprotected stomach, and a deep cut grew from where the blade touched Baldr's flesh. Blood sprayed as he crashed down. Before Samson could act further, Baldr quickly jumped up. Clutching his new wound, blood began to cover his hands. Without a shred of hesitation, Baldr took his blood-soaked thumbs and traced them across the glowing rune on his chest. The rune showed brighter, and energy pulsated from his body. The etched Rune shifted on his chest and now formed a new rune, ᛊ(Sowilo).
"I'm done playing with you, Human!" Baldr roared.
Sowilo Berkana
Berserker of the Sun
Baldr's muscles swelled as the rune began to glow dark red.
"Good, 'cause I'm done playing as well." Both braced themselves and walked towards the other. The moment both came into range, fists flew. Block, parry, bob, weave, hook, jab, straight, uppercut, stab. The two moved like twin whirlwinds, trying to tear into each other. Both began to step and pivot around the arena as two blurs, the ground breaking up with every step they took. During the whole exchange, neither took their eyes off the other. The hatred and vitriol between them became palpable.
"Folks, if any of you can keep up with this, I could use some help down here!" Heimdall said. "I can't see a thing happening! Both fighters are moving faster than anything I've ever seen!"
"Is this what Baldr is truly capable of?" Yama asked.
"It's close, but not all the way," Týr answered. "Unlike Thor and me, Baldr has a natural connection to runes, thanks to his mother. By using Dagaz, Baldr can increase his speed and mental faculties. Sowilo pushes it further while toughening up his body to handle the strain. It's a double-edged sword, though. His body can't handle the strain of it for too long. Plus, he's already injured. The runes were making his blood pump faster, and that was making him bleed worse. I don't know how long he can stand to be in that state."
"He'll stay in that state for as long as he needs to to kill Samson," Set said without looking away from the match.
"What makes you say that?"
"Baldr must win this. Not for us, not to destroy Humanity. He must win for himself. That is why he'll go as far as he must. Even if it kills him."
"Sounds like you know my brother better than me."
"No…I just know others like him. Burdened with a sense of inferiority and a desperation to prove himself. If not to others, to himself. An opportunity is finally in front of him to prove his existence and his worth. Why wouldn't he do his best to win?"
Thor looked over to Set. His look softened a bit before he turned his attention back to the fight. Set sat there in silence. An air of nostalgia hit him for the briefest of moments. He shoved it down and focused on what was before him, hoping it would not return.
Within the storm of blows and blocks, the two Fighters refused to give the other any quarter. The tiniest pause, the shortest reprieve of any sort, would allow the other to capitalize and take the momentum of the match. Neither wanted to admit it, but they were starting to fight on fumes. The wounds from earlier, combined with the exerted energy, made their bodies scream in pain with every step they took. Every blow thrown and blocked or avoided. Their bodies demanded rest. One of them was about to drop, but he refused to. He needed to win. He had to. His spirit and mind would continue the fight forever if he had to. But his body could not. The two savage cuts, bleeding profusely, his head trauma, and his damaged ribs affecting his breathing started to slow Baldr down. Samson's blows began to scrape his skin, when before they only touched air. He now had to keep up and react rather than try and contest control of the pace.
After dodging one powerful cross from Samson, Baldr's head went light. His feet buckled under him. Samson saw it and capitalized on it. Samson swung down his dagger straight for Baldr's head. I cannot die. Baldr thought. I still haven't done everything I wanted to do. I still have to beat him. I still have to beat… Baldr snapped back to his senses as the dagger came down. He refused to retreat. Instead, he caught the blade clean between his hands. How he did it, he couldn't figure it out. He never did it before. With his hands firmly grasped on the knife's edge, he hopped back, barely off the ground, by kipping his legs. Three towers were activated and created another barrier behind Baldr. The rebounding force grew more intense than before, but he was not going alone this time. Baldr fired off the barrier like a bullet, right into Samson's waist. Baldr's body spasmed in pain as the two flew through the air. There was finally a break from the gridlock. Baldr got his moment. He had only one chance to win despite injuries, and he had to take it. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a small silver tube. "Human!" Baldr yelled while catching his breath. "No…Samson!"
"Can it!"
"Never! You pushed me to this. I wanted to honor you with a dignified death, but you had to keep being a pain in my ass. All you had to do was die! But screw it, if this is how it must end, so damn be it!" Baldr grasped the tube in both hands and snapped it. The broken halves wrapped around Baldr's hands, enveloping them and stretching up his forearms. The metal began to soften, and two gray leather gloves with a gold trim and knuckles covered Baldr's hands. A soft whirring sound began to come from the gloves.
Gauntlets of Authulma
"I will grind you into dust, Samson," Baldr said, smiling, his eyes full of manic joy.
"Is… there supposed to be something special about those gloves?" Göll asked. She received no response. "Sis? What's up-?" She looked up at her Sister and was met with a look of pure horror on Brunhilde's face.
"He…has them? I thought no one could use them. Not even Odin could do that. Why does he have them!?" Brunhilde shouted in a panic.
"Brunhilde, what is going on? Why are you shaking like that!?" Li asked.
"The Gauntlets of Authulma…never thought he'd use them," Týr responded.
"I heard legends of them. Among Odin's weapons vault, the Gauntlets are considered one of the most powerful and unwieldy weapons to ever exist. Made from the flesh and bone of the primeval cow, Authulma." Set said.
"The very same cow that freed Grandfather and other Primordial gods from the earth, with her very presence destroying all things in her path. It was said that to make those weapons, she had to be killed and skinned without anything touching her. How it was done is still a mystery, but the gloves are up there in power with Gungnir and Mjolnir. They can grind and break down anything they touch."
"Why are they unwieldy?"
"It's because the skin that covers the outside is also inside," Thor answered.
"They tear into the flesh of anyone who wears them. The dwarves who made them managed to weaken the effect on the inside but couldn't remove it entirely. Baldr could only use them while under the protection of Svalinn's Shield, but he's still going to use them even without it." Týr added. He sat in silence for a moment, observing the events unfold before him. "I hate saying it, but you're right, Set. He's going to do anything to win."
Baldr could feel the interior of the gloves rubbing and grinding against his arms, but it was irrelevant. Before him was an opponent for whom he could sing songs of glory for overcoming. He pushed past his dependency on his protection. He learned to use his wits to outplay a stronger opponent, and now would end it with a weapon his father feared to wield. Baldr took a deep breath and dashed at Samson. Samson crouched, dagger in hand and ready to strike. Baldr threw a quick jab at Samson's head, far faster than before. Samson managed to move his head to the left just enough to feel a slight graze of the jab. He could feel the skin grind against his cheek and tear away.
The new threat of these gloves did not sway him. He made a quick stab with his dagger right at Baldr's chest. Baldr managed to grab Samson's wrist just before the blade touched his skin. The gauntlet ground at Samson's wrist, and blood began to flow. Samson panicked, trying to pull his hand free. Baldr took the opening and threw his right towards Samson's chest. Samson snapped his left hand around Baldr's elbow, holding his arm in place and stopping the blow. He tightened his grip, trying to crush it."Not this time." Baldr said. Baldr tightened his grip further. More of Samson's skin tore as he tried to pull away. Samson knew no more, and his artery could be severed. Even if he broke Baldr's elbow, he would come out worse in the exchange. He had to break free. "Hurts that much? Here, I'll let up!" Baldr released him at the worst time. Samson put too much strength into his pull. As Baldr let go, Samson lurched back. Three towers activated behind Samson, and a barrier appeared. Samson slammed into the barrier, dropping his dagger, and the vibrations of the barrier filled his body and intensified. Baldr didn't care. Samson's grip remained on his elbow. He could feel the familiar intense force pulsating through Samson. He would not allow Samson to get away. Before Samson was ejected, Baldr slammed his free left hand into Samson's solar plexus, pinning him between the wall and his fist. Samson roared in pain. Baldr planted his feet and put all his strength into holding his position. The energy slammed into him as well, and blood began to seep from within his gloves. "Come on, Samson! All you gotta do is die! It's easy! Just quit flexing your core and let my damn hand skewer you! I'll make you a matching pair with the Doctor from Round One! You'd like that, right!?" Baldr screamed over the vibrations.
"Never!"
"Then die slowly!"
"Samson's caught between a rock and a hard place! Baldr refuses to let him go! But Baldr's struggling to keep him there! Who will fall first!?" Heimdall yelled. Samson instinctively grabbed Baldr's upper arm with both arms and squeezed. Baldr's eyes widened in pain as Samson clamped down on his punctured muscle. More of the vibrations flew into Baldr. He had to yield. Baldr pulled back his arm, and Samson slammed into him as he flew across the arena and skipped across the floor like a rock skipped across a pond.
"You damn idiot!" Baldr yelled.
Samson lay on the ground, his back against the floor. He mustered up the strength to touch the wound on his torso. A clean, circular wound sat just below his ribcage. It wasn't as deep as he feared. Maybe it was his strengthened muscles that gave a little extra protection. If so, he was grateful now more than ever, he made his vows. He checked his right wrist; the skin was torn, and he was bleeding. The artery remained uncut, fortunately. I promised I'd listen to her, and I promised I'd let her play with my hair, but…I don't know if this is a promise I can keep. Samson thought. He couldn't hear much of what was going on around him. The blood loss was kicking in. Samson struggled but managed to raise himself from the ground. He leaned forward and got his feet under him. With one great push, he got back to his feet and stared down Baldr, who was walking his way and ready to kill him. Samson sighed. A painful sting surged from his chest. He looked past Baldr and saw his dagger. "Unarmed and badly injured… this feels a bit familiar." Samson pondered his options and potential outcomes. Nothing seemed like a viable option. All he could do was return to his fighting stance and prepare for what was coming. "Screw it. No one likes a man who can't keep his promises."