Laufey—who was almost twice as tall as Vidar—was lifted off the ground as if he weighed nothing. His feet kicked uselessly in the air, his hands (the one he had left) unsuccessfully trying to break the iron grip around his throat.
Vidar held him there, his golden eyes shining with a power that made the air vibrate.
"Listen to me carefully, Laufey, King of Jotunheim," Vidar said, his voice resonating with divine authority that admitted no disobedience. "You can reject Loki. You can refuse to acknowledge him. Those are your choices."
He squeezed slightly, making Laufey gasp.
"But never—NEVER—will you threaten my brother again. Never will you raise your hand against him. Because if you do..."
His eyes glowed more intensely, and the power around him intensified until the Jotun guards had to look away.
"...the next thing I cut will not be your arm. It will be your head."
He threw Laufey backward. The Jotun king slammed into the frozen ground, skidding several meters before stopping. Blue blood—Jotun ichor—dripped from the stump where his arm had been.
Vidar remained standing where he was, his sword still materialized, his posture relaxed but ready. The message was clear: he could do it again. Easily.
The silence that fell over the area was absolute.
The Jotun guards stared in total disbelief. Their king—the mighty Laufey, who had ruled for millennia, who had led armies against Asgard—had been defeated in less than three seconds.
An arm. Cleanly severed. As if Laufey were nothing more than an ordinary mortal.
"Impossible," whispered one of the guards.
"The king..." murmured another, his voice broken by shock.
"Fell so easily," said a third, almost unable to believe how easily their king had lost.
Hela, who had observed everything, smiled broadly. There was genuine appreciation in her eyes.
"Now that," she said with satisfaction, "was impressive, little brother."
Loki stood motionless, looking between Vidar and the fallen Laufey, processing what had just happened. Vidar had... had mutilated a king. For him. Without hesitating for a single second.
Vidar dissolved his sword and turned toward Loki, his expression softening immediately.
"Are you okay?"
Loki nodded slowly, still in shock.
"I... yes. Thank you."
Vidar nodded, then turned toward the Jotun guards who were still paralyzed.
"Take your king to be healed," he ordered, his voice making it clear it was not a suggestion. "And while you do, consider this carefully."
He gestured to all the Jotun present.
"I have come here in peace. Twice.I offered alliance as equals. And when your king attacked my brother without provocation, I showed mercy by only taking his arm instead of his life."
His golden eyes fixed on each of them.
"But my patience has limits. The next time someone—anyone—threatens Loki, I will not be so generous."
One of the guards, braver or stupider than the others, stepped forward.
"How dare you? You attacked our king! This is an act of war!"
Vidar looked at him without blinking.
"Your king attacked first. An emissary at peace. By the ancient laws that even the Jotun respect, my response was justified defense."
He pointed to Laufey, who was being helped to his feet by other guards, his face twisted in a mask of pain and humiliation.
"And as for war..." Vidar let the Vidarforce pulse once more, just a flash, but enough to remind everyone exactly who they were dealing with, "if Jotunheim wants war with the new Asgard, I will gladly give it to you. But ask yourselves: if I can defeat your king in three seconds, what do you think I will do to your kingdom?"
The silence was deafening.
I came back after a while. Finally, I got the replacement part, and thank God it was the right one. I'll go back to writing normally. I hope you like it. If you like the novel, don't forget that I have P.A.T.R.E.O.N., and you can get advance chapters. I'll write a good number of chapters for Patreon members.
patreon.com/mati6x