Oleandra Adds Giant Slayer to her List of Titles

"If you've got any more tricks up your sleeve," said Wanderer, slowly backing away from the approaching trio of Giants, "now would be the time."

"I might have kept a few in reserve," said Oleandra reservedly, nevertheless clapping her hands and calling out, "Cambio Exuvia!"

Oleandra's winter robes, emblazoned with Hogwarts's coat of arms, turned into bands of cloth that exploded outwards, stopping a few centimetres away from their original positions on her body. The strips of black cloth hovering around her limbs then rotated anticlockwise— Vanishing into a fold in space— and scales appeared in their place. The new rings of snakeskin rotated clockwise and tightened around her limbs, reforming into the Basilisk skin combat robes, complete with a scabbard at her hip.

"Nice sword," commented Wanderer, as Oleandra drew the gleaming Sword of the Lake. "But mine's better— show me your true form… Gungnir!"

Wanderer swept his hand across the shaft of his rickety spear, which looked more like a gnarled branch attached to an arrowhead than an actual weapon of war. But as his hand brushed against the wood, the runes engraved on the shaft began glowing…

KRAKOOM!

A bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking Wanderer's crude spear. The wooden husk hissed and cracked, wood chips flaking away like scales scraped off from a fish— until only the sleek, lustrous metal beneath remained, gleaming with an ethereal golden light.

"Ansuz, Hagal, Thursaz!" shouted Wanderer, slamming the butt of his spear against the ground each time he called out a rune's name. "In my name, I invoke the wrath of the elements and strike at thee, monster!"

The ear-splitting crash of a thunderclap resonated through the village, and a second thunderbolt fell from the heavens, striking the golden spear and charging it up with magic. Wanderer then raised his spear and pointed it at the Giant who had picked him up earlier.

Electricity discharged from the weapon, shocking the Giant and setting him ablaze. Too stupid to realise that if Wanderer had done it once, then he could probably do it again, the two remaining Giants roared and charged towards them, instead of fleeing for their lives in the opposite direction.

"That's it for now," said Wanderer grimly, watching the first Giant spasming uncontrollably on the ground. "The spear doesn't need to recharge, but the clouds overhead do— so no more thunderbolts until further notice."

Oleandra drew a large line in the mud in front of her with her sword, and chanted, "Isaz! Freeze my foes in place!"

"Your rune's all crooked," said Wanderer critically, "the magic won't activate unless… whoa!"

Wanderer and Oleandra dived out of the way, just as a Giantess slammed down an uprooted tree, flattening the spot they'd occupied just a heartbeat earlier.

"STUCK!" groaned the Giantess— try as she might, she could not pull her improvised club free from Oleandra's runic trap!

Oleandra sprang to her feet and ran up the tree trunk, using it as a ramp to reach the Giantess's exposed throat. Still focused on trying to retrieve her weapon, the bemused Giantess could only watch in wonder as Oleandra, the being she considered to be an insignificant ant, ran up to her and plunged her sword into her neck.

The Giantess let out a deafening scream, nearly shattering Oleandra's eardrums due to her proximity to the monster's mouth. At the same time, blood sprayed from the gash in the Giantess's neck, drenching Oleandra from head to toe in the crimson liquid that reeked of iron. Feeling threatened at last, the Giantess finally let go of the tree trunk she'd been obstinately holding on to and tried to smother Oleandra with her disproportionately large, oven glove-like hands.

Holding on to her sword's hilt for dear life, Oleandra swung herself away from the Giantess's grubby paws while Wanderer stabbed the monster in her toes— and then, completing her revolution and combining the momentum from her swing with the immense strength granted to her by her Dusk-Elven blood, Oleandra pushed her sword further into the Giantess's neck and wrenched it out, effectively separating the monster's head from her shoulders!

Perhaps too dumb to realise she had already died, the headless Giantess continued stumbling around for a few seconds, flattening a few houses in the process, before finally crumpling into a heap, whereupon Oleandra hopped off, performing a front somersault to cushion her landing on the ground.

"Haha!" Wanderer laughed gleefully. "Come, monster! Come meet your doom at the hands of the son of Bor!"

The remaining Giant looked rather apprehensive at the idea of continuing the fight, especially since his companions had been so easily dispatched. And now that he was thinking about it, he felt rather full already, having devoured one aurochs, three oxen, and one Shetland pony. Was there really any point staying to fight against these two ridiculously powerful humans?

Without giving it a second thought, the Giant turned tail and fled with surprising speed, leaving a trail of deep footprints in his wake— which would doubtlessly lead straight back to his lair, barring any detours.

"You're stronger than you look— do you by any chance possess inhuman blood, Viviane?" asked Wanderer admiringly, turning back to face Oleandra. "…and I see you've already cleaned yourself up."

"I know a lot of lifestyle magic," Oleandra said with a shrug. She'd cast a Wiping Spell on herself while Wanderer's back was turned, siphoning off the Giant blood she was drenched in.

Wanderer was looking at Oleandra in a new light. Not only could she cook and clean, but she was also quick of wit, strong of body, and powerful in magic! Too bad Oleandra was already taken...

"If you still haven't found your way home by the time my quest ends," Wanderer said boldly, "then you should come back with me to my homeland to the north— our magical clan is the strongest around, and we're always looking to expand our power. My father would welcome a Witch like you with open arms."

"I…" Oleandra began, but before she could say anything further, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

Now that the Giants had left, the peasants and villagers had returned en masse, armed with pitchforks and torches. Oleandra gulped— they weren't about to get burned at the stake, were they?