Inside his private chambers in the palace, Karsa stood like an emperor upon the balcony.
His golden armor shimmered, and he held a goblet crafted from pure gold.
He gazed down at the bustling city below, where the lights burned bright and the sounds of the crowd drifted up in a restless, noisy tide.
“Toil and mediocrity.
A life as fleeting as the changing of the seasons,” Karsa murmured.
He swirled his goblet, the crimson wine dancing in a way that was effortlessly elegant, even as his expression remained heavy with boredom and complete indifference.
“This unchanging peace is truly tiresome.” Behind him, Saga, the Gemini Gold Saint, stood with his hands behind his back in a respectful vigil.
His eyes drifted briefly toward the night sky outside the balcony.
A gentle evening breeze stirred, and the moon cast its pale light over the realm.
Suddenly, a brilliant, prismatic flash of rainbow light pierced the quiet night, causing Saga to wince before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Karsa’s lips curled into a faint, expectant smile.
“It seems that my foolish brother has finally decided to break this monotonous peace.” He drained the goblet in one fluid motion and flicked his wrist.
The golden cup clattered to the floor with a crisp ding before dissolving into a mist of golden light.
“Inform the Valhalla garrison to prepare for battle,” Karsa commanded, his voice lazy but sharp.
“I truly hope Jotunheim manages to provide me with a sliver of amusement.” Saga bowed, ready to depart, when he was halted by another languid, drawling call.
“Forget it,” Karsa sighed, his interest already waning as he slumped back into his relaxed posture.
“Father would never allow a full-scale war between the realms.” Despite his arrogance and cold exterior, thousands of years of affection were not easily discarded.
Even a heart of stone would have warmed by now.
In all of Asgard, only Queen Frigga and the All-Father, Odin, truly mattered to him.
Everyone else was little more than a plaything in his palm.
Seeing his master clearly restless, Saga paused before shifting the subject.
“Given Prince Thor’s strength, he may find himself overwhelmed by a massive army of Frost Giants.
Should we send someone…
to assist him?” “Let him handle the mess he made himself.” Karsa cast a dismissive, impatient glance over his shoulder, his tone dripping with haughty arrogance.
“If the great God of Thunder cannot resolve such a trivial matter, what use is he?” “As you say, my lord.” Saga nodded, appearing to agree, though he couldn’t help but think to himself: I suspect that whether you want to get involved or not, someone will make sure you do.
In truth, he was exactly right.
Not long after, Aphrodite, the Pisces Gold Saint, arrived to deliver a report.
“Lord Karsa, the All-Father commands you to depart for Jotunheim immediately.
You are to rescue Prince Thor and Prince Loki.
According to Heimdall, they are currently surrounded by Frost Giants and trapped in a desperate battle.” “A few measly Frost Giants, and he expects me to handle it personally?” Karsa had no desire to involve himself in such trivial affairs, but the fact that Odin had dumped this chore on him immediately soured his mood.
“Inform Aiolia to go and rescue them.
Do not bother me with these petty matters again!” “As you command, my lord.” Aphrodite knelt, bowed his head, and turned to leave the room.
Jotunheim, the Realm of Ice!
On a desolate, frozen expanse where the sun never shone, a bitter wind howled.
Legions of ice-blue giants, each standing nearly three meters tall, surged forward like a tidal wave.
Thor held the leather loop of Mjolnir, spinning his wrist with relentless speed.
The hammer blurred into a high-speed windmill, and every foe that dared to approach was sent flying into the dark abyss.
Unlike his brother, who fought with raw, crushing power, Loki relied on his mastery of illusions.
He flickered across the battlefield, constantly shifting his position and leaving the giants swinging at nothing but cold air, completely fooled by his trickery.
The Warriors Three were equally ferocious.
Volstagg hoisted his massive axe, cleaving through the chest of a giant before shouting a provocation: “Is that all you pathetic creatures have?” Fandral moved with a dazzling display of swordplay.
Rolling through the snow to dodge an ice-blade, he lashed out with his sword to sever a giant’s leg.
“Tell me,” he laughed, “shall we see who scores the most kills?” “Challenge accepted!” Hogun grunted, swinging his spiked mace and shattering a giant’s skull in one strike.
Nearby, the warrior Sif fought with perfect coordination between her sword and shield, holding her ground with ease.
Laufey, King of the Frost Giants, frowned at the scene.
He raised a hand slightly, and at his signal, a giant blew a war horn.
Instantly, the assault halted.
The surrounding giants began to retreat.
Seeing this, Fandral couldn’t help but sneer.
“I knew it.
These things are nothing but overgrown bullies.” “No,” Hogun said, his expression far from relaxed.
The intuition honed by years of combat told him something was wrong.
“There’s trouble.” He was right.
As the Frost Giants pulled back, a monstrous Frost Beast, dozens of meters tall, burst through the ice.
It bared its gaping maw, lunging toward them like a falling mountain.
“Good gods, run!” Sif gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief as she turned to flee.
The others were paralyzed with sudden terror; their earlier arrogance had vanished.
Frost Beasts were the strategic weapons of the giants—hulking, thick-skinned monstrosities that could tip the scales of any battle.
They were never meant for solo combat, but once unleashed, no single warrior could face them alone.
Unless…
they had a strategic weapon of their own.
“So, what exactly is our strategic weapon?” Fandral asked, scrambling over an ice wall and narrowly dodging a rain of frozen shrapnel.
“Thor!
Our strategic weapon is Thor!” Hogun shouted, running for his life while calling the Thunder God’s name.
Hearing the plea, Thor, who was still clearing enemies nearby, spun his hammer and launched himself into the sky.
Once clear of the encirclement, he dove back down, accelerating like a cannonball, and crashed directly into the Frost Beast.
BOOM!
The dull thud echoed across the frozen plains.
Thor landed on one knee, Mjolnir in hand.
Behind him, the Frost Beast lay dead, a massive, bloody crater punched right through its monstrous head.
“Crisis averted!
Any other requests, lads?” Thor turned to his companions with a smug, triumphant grin.
He expected to hear their cheers, but the expected applause never came.
Instead, his companions were staring past him with grim, horrified expressions.
“Thor,” Loki cautioned, his voice strained.
“I think you should look behind you.” Thor turned to follow their gaze.
Across the vast, snowy horizon, a sea of figures stretched out before him.
It was a dense, unending throng of Frost Giants—thousands of them, all three meters tall, their faces twisted into savage, predatory snarls.
Among them, dozens more Frost Beasts stood ready, their roar shaking the very ground.
Even the valiant God of Thunder felt his blood run cold.
Heroic as he was, he was still only one man.
Against an infinite army of giants, he was hopelessly outnumbered.
The look of sheer desperation on their faces brought a flicker of dark pleasure to Laufey.
In every previous war between Jotunheim and Asgard, it had always ended in his defeat.
But now, the tide had turned.
If he could capture Odin’s two sons, he would not only reclaim his honor but shatter Asgardian morale.
Furthermore, as hostages, they would force Odin to hesitate, rendering the All-Father powerless to strike back.
Laufey’s cold, blue face twisted into a smirk of absolute triumph.
Just as he was about to give the order to advance, a thunderous roar erupted from the heavens above.
Everyone looked up, only to see a prismatic beam of light descend from the sky, slamming into the ground between the two opposing forces.
Laufey’s smug expression froze.
The Bifrost meant the arrival of reinforcements.
But who?
Please, he thought, let it not be that wretched creature—the one possesses the most insufferable personality in the Nine Realms!