Bloodlines of the Ancient Pantheons

Chapter 623: DCXXIII. Like A Human

"Freya is looking at me with her arms folded, she's not worried about her brother at all... how is that possible?! Victory is now in my hands and I could inflict the coup de grace on him... why don't you react and save your brother?" Dag thought as he ran, looking at the Goddess out of the corner of his eye, without slowing his advance.

Freyr's sword suddenly turned on him, who was not ready to receive an attack and was in an offensive position, failed to parry a hilt strike.

After being hit in the chest, Dag rolled to the ground for several meters, sticking the blade of his axe into the terrain to prevent his body from moving too far away from his target, knowing that the length of his dark arms was not infinite. 

Freyr's divine weapon became as small as a dagger and having turned in the air, flew towards Dag, leaving behind only a thin trail.

"He's trying to distract me and drive me away, so as to free himself from my grip! Freya knew it, she's sure Freyr can defeat me! My body... I don't feel any kind of tiredness, yet I'm using almost the maximum of my powers... Asgard Arena training works!" Dag thought again, dodging the flying weapon and charging again in Freyr's direction, making his spectators realize that he understood that elementary tactic.

As the dark hands tightened their grip more and more, the sword turned back as if it was a boomerang, emitting the same celestial aura as when it first turned into a giant weapon.

Just moments before he was shot in the back, Dag used his dark arms to drag his body toward Freyr's, lifting his feet off the ground and managing to dodge the blow.

"Take this! Aaargh!" the young warrior shouted when his electrified hammer hit Freyr's chest, once again destroying the ground of the Asgard Arena.

After the explosion, the young warrior saw his opponent's body in front of him, free of dust.

His hands were grabbing both of his weapons, keeping them away from his chest, while the electric sparks of Magni's hammer were released non-stop.

Even the Giantbane was stopped and its blade was cutting Freyr's hand, which lost blood and activated the power of the axe, whose crystal began to shine with its own light.

Freya's expression changed as soon as she saw the power of Dag's divine weapon in action.

The Giantbane's glowing blades kept pressing against Freyr's bare hands and the hammer did the same.

Dag's rabid face expressed his nervousness at not yet being able to beat him and his arms kept pushing forward, while the young warrior noted that Freyr's face was not at all worried.

"This duel is over, Dag. As I imagined, you lost!" Freya exclaimed, raising a hand to the sky without even moving from her position.

"Eh?! What?! I'm not the one on the ground!" he exclaimed, confident that he had managed to pass the first test.

After his words, his eyes widened.

A slight pinch behind his neck became stronger and more pungent, until he dropped both his weapons, raising his arms as a sign of surrender.

The metal tip of Freyr's flying sword was touching him and with a simple movement, it could have detached his head from his neck.

When the last adrenaline rush in his body was exhausted, Dag recalled all the dark fluid he had summoned, causing it to re-enter his back, his gaze pointing downwards.

His hands continued to tighten his weapons as if he did not want to resign himself to the idea of losing the first fight against the God, being sure he had the victory in his hand.

"I was sure to give him the coup de grace and I put all my energy on that... I didn't really assess what might have happened if my shot hadn't been enough... it takes much more to defeat Freyr..." the young warrior thought, raising his gaze full of remorse towards his opponent.

"Aaargh... what a struggle..." Freyr whispered, rising to his feet and wiping his clothes from the dust, wiping sweat from his forehead and looking at Dag out of the corner of his eye.

Freya walked towards the two challengers, keeping her eyes on Dag.

"I know, there's no need to tell me how distracted I was. Although I dominated the last part of the fight, I did not assess the risks I would take by giving my back to my opponent's weapon, capable of flying and moving at great speed. I was sure my final shot would be enough to stun Freyr and end the fight... I made a miscalculation..." Dag confessed, anticipating the words of Freya, who had a critical expression painted on her face.

"A miscalculation that would have cost you your life, young Dag. Do you agree?" the Goddess asked as if she wanted to rage on him to make him understand the true meaning of his mistake.

Dag nodded sadly.

"Hey! What's that sad face? Boy, you practically destroyed me! Remember, I'm a God, not everyone can knock me to the ground! My sword barely managed to hit you once!" Freyr exclaimed, breaking the silence that had been created and trying to cheer Dag up.

He looked up and pointed his eyes at the blond-haired God, who was smiling.

"You really are the strongest Midgardian of all time, Dag! I mean it! There's only one little problem... your fighting style... is dominated by anger. You still fight like a normal human being, it doesn't work" Freyr continued, as his sword floated slowly until it slipped into its lining on his leather belt.

"Like a... a human?" 

"That's right! Let anger and feelings take over you as you fight... don't get me wrong, you must be angry, but... you don't have to let that affect your concentration! Stop fighting like a human and start fighting like a God!" exclaimed Freyr again, opening his arms outwards and trying to foment his interlocutor.

The people in the stands, who had witnessed the whole fight, were amazed to hear those words come out of Freyr's mouth, who usually thought of no one but himself.

Freya remained silent, waiting for Dag's response to check on his mental stability.

The young warrior, continuing to tighten his weapons, stretched out his back and assumed a proud posture, saying: "Thank you for the valuable advice, Freyr. I'll apply it as soon as I get the chance."

Those words were so confident and determined, that Freyr and his sister looked each other in the eye and smiled, determined to continue Dag's training, who would have to spend several more days in the Arena of Asgard before he was ready to face his true mission.

...

Meanwhile, on Skjold and more precisely in Okstorm, Gridd, Egill, and Karl were riding from south to north, traveling in the direction of Jernhest.

Gridd, on Light's back, her faithful steed, held with one hand the bridles of Aslan, Dag's horse, who ran beside her without any riders. 

Master Egill was just behind them and next to him was the young Karl, now one of his best students, despite not yet having reached the age of formally joining the Hammers Of Thor.

"When far are we, Gridd? I can't understand anything if I look around, I've never traveled along these roads" Karl asked, who was impatiently waiting for the moment to be able to meet his parents again, thinking of the serious illness that afflicted his father.

"After those headlands, we should spot the tallest tower of King Einar's Castle... Jernhest is not far away, we are almost there" Egill replied, anticipating Gridd, who was focused on looking forward, lost in her thoughts.

"Dag, what are you doing? I knew you'd never accept the idea of throwing away all the sacrifices you made to get to Krypstorm, but... was it really worth it? Reidar decided to follow you, I hope he managed to catch up with you and didn't get lost in those frozen, inhospitable lands... damn... I wish I was there with you too..." the Shieldmaiden thought, oblivious to the divine journey her brother had made.

The false Sun that illuminated the plains and hills of Jordstl was now low on the horizon and the reddish sunset light made the view very suggestive.

Keeping on riding in the cultivated fields of the capital region, the three companions continued their journey made of a few words and many kilometers traveled, in the hope of being able to tell the exploits of Dag and his loyal companions to the people of Jernhest, starting from Asa, the mother of the one who was destined to fulfill the prophecy that would save the human race from slavery.

Aslan, Dag's faithful horse, by the time his master left for Krypstorm, had never allowed anyone to climb on his back, not even Karl, one of his most trusted friends.

It was as if the horse wanted to remember his rider's name, patiently waiting for his return and trusting only Gridd, following her in the hope of seeing Dag again somewhere.

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