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Upon the ice plains below the fortress, under the watchful eyes of observers from various powers of the Multiverse, the demi-god was pummeling the ancient white dragon with his clearly superior strength. Their battle had moved from the skies to the ground. The lightning long spear that Geogad conjured with a flick of his hand punctured countless bloody holes in Svafnir's body, yet it seemed as if he had an endless supply of life force. Neither the dragon's claws nor its bites or that deathly, frosty breath seemed to do enough damage to the demi-god.

Finally, Svafnir realized a fact that filled it with fear: if the fight continued, it would certainly die before its opponent. If it had been a younger or adult white dragon, it probably would have stubbornly refused to admit defeat, fighting until death arrived. But under the effect of immortality on the Iron Ice Plains, it had lived too long and clearly understood the following fact:

If a dragon takes too many wounds, it will die.