Chapter 69: A Tale Of Laevateinn

The Room of Requirement descended into chaos, filled with screams and cries as the mercenaries were quickly overwhelmed. Spells streaked through the air in bursts of blinding light, illuminating the horde of slithering serpents advancing on their prey. One mercenary shouted in desperation, flames erupting from the tip of his wand to ward them off. But it was futile. The snakes lunged, their fangs sinking deep into flesh—arms, necks, legs—dragging their victims down as more swarmed relentlessly. Their thrashing and screams grew weaker, until silence fell, the mercenaries swept away in a writhing tidal wave of serpents.

Amid the carnage, Salazar moved with fluid precision, his wand cutting through the air like a conductor commanding an orchestra of destruction. Spells fired upon him were dispelled with ease, their energy dissipating before they could reach him. His floating spear, split into two jagged halves, and he surged forward, sliding on his knees between two masked men. The sharp edges of the spear carved through their sides as he rose to his feet, the weapon snapping seamlessly back into its full form.

The two mercenaries staggered, clutching at their wounds. They turned, wands trembling in their hands, but hesitation froze them. Behind their masks, their eyes widened in horror. Blood poured from their mouths, streaming from their eyes and ears as they began to convulse violently. A final, piercing scream tore from their throats before they collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Salazar smirked, his tone almost mocking as he gestured to their bodies. "Ah, I forgot to mention," he said, "Gáe Birgha is coated with a venom so potent, it kills within seconds. Even a scratch is enough to seal your fate. Cruel, isn't it?" He tilted his head toward the corpses, feigning sympathy. "Case in point. And the best part? There's no cure, no antidote, not even a spell to reverse it. The moment it touches you, your fate is written."

Rance's face twisted in raw terror as he fired spell after spell in a desperate attempt to stop Salazar. Beams of light and explosions crackled through the air, but Salazar moved like a shadow, stepping, weaving, and dodging with inhuman grace. His smile stretched wider, darker, more sinister.

"Want to know what happens, Gramont?" Salazar's voice was a low hiss, his serpent-like eyes gleaming with malice. He stepped closer, savoring the growing fear in his opponent. "The venom creeps into your veins, spreading like wildfire. It tears you apart from the inside—barbed wires churning through every fiber of your being. Every vessel in your body bursts. Your lungs fill with blood, choking you as you gasp for air."

He chuckled softly, the sound chilling in its calmness. "And the pain… oh, the pain. It's indescribable. It flares through every corner of your mind, shattering what little control you have left. You'll beg—oh, how you'll beg—for death to take you."

Salazar paused, snapping his fingers with an almost playful air. "And then…" He pressed a finger to his lips, as if savoring the thought. "Nothing. Silence. No warmth, no pulse. Just cold."

His words hung in the air like a death knell, and as Rance faltered, his terror gave way to the creeping realization that escape was impossible. Salazar's grin widened. "Care to find out for yourself?"

Rance trembled, his knees threatening to buckle as he staggered backward, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. His green eyes darted frantically around the room, taking in the grisly scene. Every mercenary lay dead or dying, their bodies torn apart by the relentless serpents that now slithered freely across the floor. Only one remained standing, blasting a writhing cluster of snakes away with a frantic wave of his wand.

"Gramont, you lying bastard!" the man shouted. "You said this would be an easy job! You never mentioned fighting some unholy demon with control over snakes! I'm done! I'm out of here!"

With trembling hands, he reached into his robe and retrieved a golden key, fumbling as he turned to flee. But before he could take another step, Salazar hissed, his command in Parseltongue sharp and final. The spear at his side shot through the air like a thunderbolt, piercing the man's back with a sickening crunch.

The mercenary froze, his scream caught in his throat. Blood sprayed from his mouth, staining the mask that hid his face, as the golden key slipped from his lifeless fingers and clattered to the ground. His body crumpled, and the serpents wasted no time, swarming over him in a merciless tide. The spear tore itself free, streaking back to Salazar and hovering at his side, spinning lazily in the air as though mocking the ease of its kill.

Salazar brushed his fingers through the dark green streaks in his black hair, his lips curling into a smile that dripped with venomous amusement. "Alone again, Gramont," he purred, his tone equal parts taunting and menacing. "Naturally."

"Now," he continued as he approached the boy, "how about we skip the pleasantries this time?"

"Y-you d-don't scare m-me, S-s-slytherin," Rance stammered, his wand shaking violently in his hand. His teeth bared in a show of defiance, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. "I'm not afraid of you!"

"Oh, joy," he said mockingly, the low trill of his spear slicing through the air with each step. "Then you'll die knowing you were braver than most. A rare distinction."

"Words," Rance spat with forced bravado. "That's all you're good for, isn't it? Truth is, you're nothing without that silly little spear of yours!"

Salazar halted mid-step, his serpentine eyes narrowing slightly as they flicked to Nirah, the serpent coiled comfortably around his shoulder. "What do you think, my dear?" he mused, his tone calm, almost conversational. "Shall we humor him?"

Nirah hissed softly in response, her blackened eyes glinting. Salazar's smirk widened. "Indeed, we shall."

With a subtle motion of his hand, he hissed a command in Parseltongue. The spear, humming with latent energy, spun gracefully through the air before driving itself into the ground with a sharp metallic clang. The tip pierced the stone floor, standing upright and reverberating through the room.

Salazar extended his arm, and Nirah slithered down from his shoulder, gliding elegantly onto the spear. She coiled around it like a sentinel, her gaze fixed on Rance, her unblinking black eyes filled with quiet malice.

He dusted off his hands and took a step back, his smirk never faltering. "Alright, Gramont," he drawled. "Entertain me."

****

Marcus roared, his war hammer raised high as the chains wrapped tightly around his forearms, their metallic clinks drowned out by his booming cry. "To the halls of Valhalla!" he bellowed, charging at Helga with a force that seemed to shake the very air around him. His boots pounded against the fractured stone floor before he launched himself into the air, hammer poised for a devastating blow.

Helga darted to the side as Marcus brought the hammer down with thunderous force. The impact splintered the ground, sending shards of stone and debris flying in all directions like shrapnel from an explosion. Dust clouded the air as Helga regained her footing, her amber eyes locked on Marcus with unyielding determination.

She surged forward, planting her feet firmly before throwing a crushing punch. Her gauntlet connected with his face, sending a shockwave through the air. Marcus's head snapped back, his face contorted in pain, but he didn't falter. Instead, he straightened, his violet eyes blazing with fury as he gripped his hammer tighter.

"Petrafuga!" Marcus cried, slamming his hammer into the ground. A pillar of jagged stone erupted from beneath Helga, slamming into her stomach and sending her flying backward. She choked, the air knocked from her lungs as she skidded across the cracked floor, clutching her abdomen.

Helga groaned, pushing herself up, her body trembling but steadfast. Marcus didn't relent, his hammer crashing into the ground once more. "Terraspicula!" he roared, sending a shockwave of stone spikes racing toward her like a charging beast.

Helga's jaw tightened, her gauntlets blazing with fiery light as she squared her stance. "Alfheim…" she growled, pulling her fist back, her knuckles gleaming with energy. "Smash!"

Helga's fist met the oncoming pillar with devastating force, the stone shattering into dust and rubble. She stood amidst the debris, chest heaving, her amber eyes narrowing as her gaze fixed on Marcus's war hammer. Even without the scholarly insight of Rowena or Salazar, she could see it—the subtle glow emanating from the hilt, the faint, rhythmic pulses of magic. His wand was embedded within the hammer, allowing him to cast spells with each swing.

"That's all you got, big guy?" Helga taunted, a fiery grin spreading across her face. "Because I've got plenty more where that came from."

Marcus returned her grin, his violet eyes glinting with malice. "Not quite."

Before Helga could react, a stone pillar erupted from the ground behind her, slamming into her back with brutal force. Her eyes widened as the impact sent her hurtling through the air, pain searing through her body. Another pillar struck her mid-flight, this time from the front, the collision forcing blood to spatter from her mouth as she gasped.

Marcus brandished his hammer with a triumphant roar. "Lapis Volare!" he shouted, and stones lifted from the fractured ground, launching themselves at Helga in rapid succession. The rocks struck her one after another, battering her as she fell toward the floor. But with a sharp inhale and gritted teeth, she twisted mid-air, landing firmly on her feet despite the relentless assault.

Marcus roared again, raising his hammer high. Another massive stone pillar surged toward her with earth-shaking momentum. But this time, Helga didn't flinch. Her gauntleted hand shot out, catching the pillar mid-thrust. The impact rippled through her body, but she held firm, her muscles tensed like steel.

With a defiant growl, she tightened her grip, her gauntlet glowing brighter as cracks spiderwebbed through the pillar. With one final squeeze, the stone crumbled into pieces, the fragments cascading to the ground.

Helga stood tall, her amber eyes blazing with unrelenting fury as she drew a sharp, steadying breath. Without hesitation, she surged forward, charging at Marcus with a speed that seemed to blur her figure.

"Terraspicula!" Marcus roared, slamming his hammer to the ground. "Maxima!"

A wave of stone pillars and jagged spikes erupted from the floor, shooting toward her in a rapid barrage. Helga dodged, spun, and weaved between them with unparalleled agility. Each time a spike neared, her fists met them, shattering the stone into shards that scattered like broken glass. The barrage intensified, the pillars growing larger and more numerous, but she never faltered, her pace relentless.

"Terrasp—" Marcus began, his voice cut short as Helga tore through the final pillar. She was suddenly upon him, her presence a force of nature. His eyes went wide in alarm as her fist drew back.

"Vanaheim," Helga roared through clenched teeth, "Smash!" Her punch connecting squarely with Marcus's face. The impact was cataclysmic, his face contorting under the force as a shockwave rippled outward, rattling the massive glass panes of the clock tower.

Marcus was hurled backward, his body skidding across the ground before collapsing to a knee. Blood dripped freely from his mouth and nostrils, staining the stone floor beneath him. Still, he lifted his gaze to meet Helga's as she approached him, her footsteps deliberate and menacing. Despite his injuries, a defiant smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, the thrill of battle etched into his battered features.

With a grunt, Marcus gripped the handle of his hammer and flung it toward her with all his might, the chain unfurling as it whistled through the air.

Helga's eyes narrowed, her gauntlet shifting and expanding with mechanical precision. The gears turned and whirred as her hand grew to twice its size, the metal plates glowing faintly. She caught the hammer mid-flight, her feet planted firmly as the impact sent ripples of force through the air. Her hair billowed behind her, but she remained unmoved, a pillar of sheer will.

Marcus's smirk faltered, his eyes widening in disbelief as Helga's fingers tightened around the hammer. Cracks formed along its surface.

Helga bared her teeth. With a primal cry, she clenched her fist, the hammer shattering into fragments that fell to the floor like debris from a collapsed building.

"As Pop-pop Hufflepuff always said," Helga growled, her amber eyes blazing as she fixed Marcus with an unwavering glare. Then, with a burst of speed, she broke into a full charge, "Clench your teeth!"

Marcus pulled the chain, retrieving the hammer's broken handle and brandishing it in front of him. "Petraforma!" he bellowed, a massive stone wall rising between them.

Helga skidded to a stop, her body twisting as her gauntlet blazed with a fiery glow. Her fist cocked back, radiating raw power.

"Niflheim," she shouted, "Smash!" her punch colliding with the wall. It shattered spectacularly; the fragments obliterated in her wake. Her fist powered through the debris, slamming into Marcus's stomach.

His body buckled, his face twisting in agony as veins stood out against his reddened skin. Blood splattered from his mouth in a gruesome spray. The shockwave rippled through him, forcing him to his knees. He gasped, coughing and vomiting blood onto the floor as Helga loomed over him like an unstoppable force.

****

Derek unleashed spell after spell, his wand slicing through the air with increasingly intricate movements. A torrent of bright, crackling magic erupted from its tip, each spell more frantic than the last as Rowena deftly countered. She fired her arrows in rapid succession, each bolt dissipating his attacks with precision while she dodged and weaved through the chaos.

"You miserable little bitch!" Derek spat as his composure crumbled. His face twisted into a mask of rage, and with a powerful slash of his wand, he roared, "Bombarda Maxima!"

The tower shuddered as explosions erupted around Rowena, debris raining down like shrapnel. With nimble grace, she darted through the chaos, leaping into the air. Her body twisted mid-flight as she pulled back on her bowstring, a glowing arrow of pure energy materializing. She released, and the arrow split into four, each streaking toward Derek.

He barely had time to react as the first pierced his thigh, wrenching a cry of pain from his lips. The second struck his stomach, the third his chest, and the fourth his shoulder. Derek staggered back, his screams echoing through the tower as blood dripped from his wounds.

Rowena landed in a crouch, dashing forward with lethal intent. Derek, his breaths ragged, narrowed his gaze and raised his wand. With a desperate swing, he shouted, "Diffindo!" A crescent of cutting magic shot toward her.

Rowena dropped into a slide, the blade of magic whizzing past her chin, missing by mere inches. She came to a stop directly beneath Derek, her bow drawn, an arrow already glowing on the string. Her sapphire eyes locked on him with icy precision. "Who's the wench now, cunt?" she spat.

"You—" Derek's words died in his throat, his face contorted with a mix of rage and terror.

"Dirge!" Rowena shouted. The arrow in her bow morphed, elongating and twisting into a spiraling drill of energy. She let it fly, the arrow driving into Derek's stomach with devastating force. His body lifted into the air as he screamed, the sheer power of the impact reverberating through the tower.

"Helga!" Rowena called out, her gaze already shifting to her friend.

****

Helga glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of Derek spiraling through the air, trailing a streak of blue energy as Rowena's arrow sent him skyward. Her gaze returned to Marcus, who was slumped on his knees, blood dripping from his mouth as he gave her a weak but resolute smile.

"Stand tall, daughter of Ymir," he rasped. "You've fought well." Another cough brought up a thick glob of blood, which he spat onto the cracked floor. A faint chuckle escaped him. "Now… deliver me to the Valkyries."

Helga couldn't help but smile, despite the battle raging around them. "It's been a blast, Marcus," she said. She bent down, gripping the chain attached to his shattered hammer. "But it's time to put you down."

With a grunt, Helga yanked the chain, hoisting Marcus into the air as if he weighed nothing. She spun him overhead like a flail, the chain rattling as her incredible strength built momentum. Then, with a roar, she hurled him upward. Marcus's body collided with Derek mid-air, the force of the impact twisting them together. With a deft motion, Helga whipped the chain around them, binding the two in a tangled, writhing mass.

"Row!" Helga dashed in the direction of her friend. "Give me a boost!"

Rowena nodded, her focus razor-sharp. She twirled her bow, which dissolved into a radiant white light before reforming as her wand. Her ravens took flight, circling overhead as she aimed at Helga.

"Ascendo!" she cried.

A blast of magic propelled Helga into the air like a rocket, her trajectory carrying her toward the entangled boys. As she soared upward, she yanked the chain, whipping them downward with devastating force. They plummeted toward the floor, their screams filling the tower. Helga flipped gracefully mid-air, her amber eyes narrowing with unyielding resolve.

"O' star, bring forth your end…" Helga murmured. The fiery energy coursing through her gauntlets intensified. "Break the chains that bind the earth, anchor of the nine realms!" She gritted her teeth, her voice erupting in a powerful cry. "Shatter—Laevatein!"

The gauntlets unfolded, their mechanisms shifting as pure energy cascaded around her fists, igniting like molten fire. Below, Derek's face contorted in terror, his wide eyes locking onto Helga as she descended like a comet.

"No! No, please!" he screamed in panic. "I give up! I surrender! Not the face!"

"Helheim," Helga's lips curled into a smirk, her fist cocked back. "Smash!" she roared.

Her blazing fist collided with the boys as they hit the ground, the impact splitting the floor in a colossal crater. The entire tower shook violently from the force as dust and debris billowed outward in a thunderous wave. The battle stilled for a moment, the sheer power of Helga's attack leaving everyone in stunned silence.

As the smoke cleared, Helga emerged from the crater, her silhouette gradually revealed through the haze. She drew a deep, steadying breath, her chest rising and falling as the fiery glow of her gauntlets began to dim. With the familiar mechanical grind of shifting plates, the gauntlets folded back into a pair of unassuming bracelets around her wrists.

Rowena staggered forward; her steps slightly unsteady as she cradled her injured arm. Her sapphire eyes flicked toward the crater ahead, where Marcus and Derek lay sprawled amidst the shattered stone. Their bodies were battered and bruised, blood streaking their faces. Their eyes, rolled back, betrayed their unconscious state—utterly vanquished and broken by the ferocity of the fight.

Helga glanced at the wreckage, then turned to Rowena with a cheeky grin. "I don't know about you, Row," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, "but I'm absolutely starving."

Rowena sighed, shaking her head even as a small smile tugged at her lips. "Oh, Helga," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You just survived a duel for the ages, and all you can think about is food."

"Hey," Helga quipped, shrugging with exaggerated innocence, "a girl's got priorities."

"Once we're out of this place," Rowena said, a faint but determined smile tugging at her lips, "lunch is on me."