Veloth observed the blue crystalline sphere, proud of his latest work. Although it made him look like some sort of fortune teller, it functioned just as he wanted, showing him the view from the eyeball sized sister sphere. He had created the spheres as a magical experiment, seeing what could be done with magic. After confirming it worked, he chose to sneak it into the scroll that was given to a messenger, no one the wiser.

Unfortunately, wherever the messenger was going, it was taking forever, so Veloth chose to check back only every so often to see if he could get a view that was not the inside of the scroll. Once more, as before, Veloth channeled his magical energies into the sphere. This time, the view was not that of the inside of the scroll. the sister sphere appeared to be falling from the sky.

The view above the sphere was that of a great expanse blue sky, and diving at a straight ninety degree angle was the Ladren messenger, one hand reaching out towards the sister sphere, the other clutching firmly to the scroll. The messenger looked as though he had been scorched, a good many of the feathers of his right wing were burnt and singed, and the leather armor he wore also looked to have been burnt away in some places.

The view below the sphere was that of a sea of clouds, with a line of landmasses peaking through them. It looked like the peaks of the Pearly Gates mountain range. Standing on the peak directly below, was a massive giant, standing at around ten stories tall, wielding a massive flaming sword, which was pointed directly at the messenger.

‘He matches the description for Surt, huh. If I recall, the Aesir was able to bring him to their side with some sort of mind control or manipulation… And Jotun are supposedly very resistant to magic to begin with. That means they do have an imperfection in their magical defense somewhere. He will make an excellent test subject. Oh… I’m beginning to sound like a cliche mad scientist… Shit…

Veloth began harnessing his energies…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daimos POV:

That last attack came dangerously close to Daimos. It seared away many of the feathers of his right wing, and much of his leather armor, including the pouch in which he kept the message. The scroll did not burn up due to the magical protection of the ancient seal, and as it began to fall, Daimos snatched it. Something rolled out of the message, a small icy blue marble. Was it part of the message? But the message was supposed to be secured by the ancient magic!

“Shit!” Daimos exclaimed as he began to dive for the marble. Daimos began to spiral due to the mismatch of feathers on his right wing, but he would not be deterred. He maintained his dive, slowly accelerating to his maximum downward velocity. Daimos cast magic to strengthen his body against the g-forces caused by his spiral, and snatched the marble from the air.

Daimos immediately expanded his wings to slow his descent. Without the magical fortification he performed on his body moments before, the sudden g-forces caused from that would have torn his wings right off. He flapped furiously, tilting slightly to the right as the feathers of his right wing were still damaged. There was nothing he could do about that right now. the tilt took him the direction he least wanted to go: towards the Jotun, Surt.

Just as Daimos was about to make contact with the mountain peak, he retracted his wings and tucked into a tight ball, cradling the message and the marble. Daimos painfully bounced off of some rocks and came to a skidding halt at the Jotun’s feet. Daimos tried to stand, but even with the fortification spell, he had taken a great amount of damage, and collapsed to the ground.

Daimos stared defiantly up at the Jotun. Surt raised his left fist, the one that did not wield the sword of fire, and brought it down toward Daimos. As the shadow of the fist enveloped Daimos, he closed his eyes thinking to himself, ‘I have failed...’.

But there was no pain. There was only a sudden cracking of rock, and seismic rumble throughout the ground upon which he lay. Daimos opened his eyes, and before him was a two-tailed kithran, a very distinctive kithran. He knew this kithran as his future king, the one betrothed to princess Hahnu, Lord Veloth.

Lord Veloth had stopped the Jotun’s strike with a single open palm,the ground around his very feet giving way to the force of the strike, yet Lord Veloth appeared unperturbed. Instead, Lord Veloth mumbled something to himself, Daimos too muddled to make it out.

“H-how…? L-lord… Veloth!” Daimos asked, many questions on his mind, such as where did Lord Veloth appear from? When did he get here? How did he stop a Jotun’s strike with one hand?

Lord Veloth glanced back at Daimos…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Veloth POV:

My teleportation experiment was a success! Walking for days just to reach a destination? Screw that! I can teleport now! Uhn? Something is coming toward- holy giant fucking fist! I wasn’t paying attention, shit! No time to dodge, need to block and hope for the best!

I braced myself and held an open palm forward, putting all my strength behind it. There was a resounding crack as the ground beneath me gave way. Somehow I was still standing, and what’s more is that I didn't even feel the force of that hit.

“Did I get stronger?...” I mumbled to myself.

“H-how…? L-lord… Veloth!” A raspy voice came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see it was the messenger, much worse for the wear since I last saw him moments ago. He had a starry-eyed look, as though… Oh, I must look like…

“Fucking giant, now I look like some cliche last-minute hero.” The messenger started at that, and looked genuinely confused. I turned my attention back to the fist before me, and struck it with my other hand, full of my rage.

“GAAAHHHH!!”

The hand was flung back, and the giant even stumbled back a few steps as he roared in pain. The hand now hung limp by his side, and the giant, eyed me with widened burning eyes, the look of surprise replacing that of pain.

“DEMON… HOW…” The giant spoke only those words as he raised a flaming sword that had to be at least five stories tall in length.

“Huh, I figured it would be like a game, looking for the boss’ glowing weak point and striking it.” I mumbled to myself, but I guess the Jotun have good hearing because the giant responded.

“YOU THINK THIS IS A GAME, LITTLE DEMON!?” He said while striking down with his flaming sword.

“No, this is a joke.” I responded, unleashing an explosive spell at the giant. Before the giant’s blade came down, my spell made contact squarely with his chest, erupting in a brilliant explosion, causing the giant to stumble back and lose his balance. The giant did not take much damage from the spell, but there were scorch marks on his chest. ‘They really are pretty resistant to magic… I wonder if that is just skin deep though?’, I theorized.

While the giant was off balance, I dashed forward and leaped up to stomache level. As I reached stomach level, I saw a tiny scar, as though something had pierced the giant here before. This only furthered my belief in my own theory. I thrust my hand forward, simultaneously transforming it partially back to the claws of a mana spirit. My claws pierced through the giant’s skin, like a needle in comparison to the scale of the giant's body.

I channeled a magic intended to remove any spell, beneficial or otherwise, into the giant's body. The giant convulsed for a few moments, and dropped to the ground as though he were a puppet with his strings suddenly cut.

“Did it work…?” I wondered aloud. If it didn’t work, this would become an obnoxiously long battle. The giant would become wary and getting in close may become difficult.

“... What did you do?” The messenger rasped out. Ah, right, that guy is here. I’ll need to help him. Time to see a regeneration spell in action!

“I penetrated his magical defense, and sent a spell designed to dispel throughout his body.” I answered while approaching the messenger. “What is your name, by the way?”

“Daimos, my Lord.” He readily answered. Daimos was a wreck, one arm, a leg, and both wings were clearly broken. Well, time to get started. I began plucking any burnt feathers I could find, and began setting his bones right with a telekinetic spell. Regeneration only does so much after all.

“Gyaaaaahhhhhh! My Lord! Is this… Punishment!?” Daimos cried out, as I set to work. I didn’t answer him, my focus was on setting his bones properly, or else he would regenerate in some odd fashion. Once the bones were set, and the brunt feathers plucked, I cast my regeneration spell on him.

Jevel had taught me numerous healing spells, and I improved upon them greatly, as I always had the mana to spare. Daimos’ screaming settled, bruises, cut, open wounds, all healed, and plucked feathers regrew rapidly.

“Th-this is…” Daimos looked himself over, stretching and testing his newly healed limbs. “My Lord… You possess such impossible power…”

“Flattery aside, do you think you’re ok now? Nothing regenerated out of place?” I asked. He vigorously noded, and looked at the marble and letter he had never stopped clutching. He then carefully placed them into an undamaged leather pouch.

“What about you, my Lord? Should I return to the nearest village to acquire transportation for you? And what of Surt?” Daimos inquired.

“No, I’ll be just fine on my own. As for the giant, I’ll deal with him.” I answered simply. Daimos nodded, and immediately took flight.

After watching Daimos glide into the distance, I turned my attention to the giant. Surt, was it? Well, if my dispel worked, then we have just gained a powerful new ally. If not, I may have to kill him.

Surt began to stir...