Lost Treasures - A Loki love Story

A bitter pill to swallow

How can they not be scared? They witness a mass of armored blue giants, standing united, and chanting for chaos. It is not a sight easily overlooked. It strikes deep fear into the hearts of anyone who beholds it. And the fear we sow, will be the seed of their downfall.

"Are the Vanir men withdrawing from the wall?"

Joben, my loyal guard and friend, interrupts my contemplation of victory, snapping me out of my dreamlike thoughts. Following his gaze, deep furrows form on my brow as I absorb the unfolding sight before me.

The guards that line the walls are no longer at their posts. They are departing, leaving their defences unattended and vulnerable. Even the iron gate is devoid of armored defenders.

With my suspicion rising, I urge my black stallion forward, guiding him closer to the gate. He trots slowly, and as we approach, I peer inside the narrow gap. What meets my gaze surprises me. I see the retreating backs of men, all abandoning their posts and hastily leaving their stations.

A sense of unease settles over me, and I instinctively grasp the hilt of my sword, my mind racing with questions. Why would the Vanir men retreat? What could have prompted this sudden abandonment of their defences? Is this a trap or a sign of a larger strategy at play?

As confusion floods my mind, it is quickly replaced by a realisation that brings a grin to my lips. The only logical explanation for the Vanir men's retreat is their cowardice. They have chosen to grant us free rein to dismantle their wall, preferring to watch from the sidelines, paralysed by fear.

Pulling on the reins of my horse, I pivot my steed around to face my vast army, my triumphant smile impossible to contain. "They are afraid!" I proclaim smugly. "They're so terrified of us that they cower towards the palace, abandoning their posts and leaving their wall defenseless!"

Laughter bubbles up from within me, fueled by the unexpected ease with which we've encountered this realm.

I had hoped for a fight, anticipating a challenge from such a feared land, but I gladly accept this gift of cowardice that allows me to demolish their structure without objection.

"Let them have their front-row seats," I declare aloud. "They will witness firsthand the might of my powerful warriors as we tear apart their grand wall."

The chuckles of my men fill the air, their faces mirroring my amusement. Who would have thought? King Herrick, with his grand reputation and boastful claims, exposed as nothing more than a coward.

"Enough laughter, soldiers," I declare, commanding attention. "It's time to unleash our wrath upon this feeble barrier. We shall start with the gate, bending its iron under the might of our strength, and then we will crack the stone, brick by brick, until our giant boots can stride over its remains!"

A surge of excitement courses through the ranks as my words sink in. The anticipation of destruction hangs heavy in the air, feeding the fires of vengeance within my warriors. With a resounding roar, they prepare for the assault, their weapons at the ready.

However, the sudden sound of whirling cogs, bring the battle sounds of my army to an abrupt halt. Confusion and shock ripple through the horde, their eyes fixed on something behind me. I swiftly follow their gaze, spinning my horse around to face the source of their astonishment. There, before us, I behold the giant iron entrance lifting and opening freely.

Disbelief washes over me, quickly giving way to a surge of anger that simmers like a molten pit in my stomach. King Herrick, in his cunning, has willingly opened the gate.

This mighty kingdom, which I believed would be my last glorious conquest, has employed a clever tactic to evade the destruction of Vannaheim's Great Wall. In one calculated move, the king has
robbed me of the opportunity to violently dismantle it. My story, the epic tale that should be recounted for millennia, has been cruelly thwarted.

Frustration and fury course through my veins as the heaviness of missed glory bears down upon me. It is a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that King Herrick has outmaneuvered me.

How did I not foresee this action?

I know why. It is because in all my conquests, not one king has willingly allowed me entry; they have always preferred a fight, a chance to defend their honor. Yet, this realm has caught me off guard, offering a ploy that is nothing short of sneaky. A ruse designed to undermine my power and prevent the glory I seek.

Seething rage stirs within me, causing my eyes to bulge and my jaw to clench tightly. How dare Vannaheim belittle me!

The voice of Joben, my trusted commander, reaches my ears, though it barely registers amidst the overwhelming rage that clouds my senses.

"Do we still tear apart the wall?" he asks, his voice a mere echo in the background.

Provoked by the indignation of being outwitted, the desire to unleash my wrath upon the wall grows stronger. But the nagging voice within my head dulls my wish, causing me to snap at Joben.

"No!" I exclaim, my tone cutting through the air like a whip. "What triumph is there in demolishing an open defense? The realms will mock us, scoffing at our lack of challenge. We shall not stoop to such a pitiful display."

My grip on the leather reins tighten, my knuckles turning white as rage consumes by me. Every fiber of my being wishes to make this king Herrick feel the full weight of my punishment. I relish the thought of humiliating him, of tearing down his empire piece by piece until nothing remains.

"They may have succeeded in preserving their precious wall," I continue, my voice dripping with scorn, "but we shall take the next best thing. We will decimate the king's palace, reducing it to rubble and crumbling his empire right before his eyes. He has ignited a fire within us, a fire that burns with vengeance and seeks to make him pay for his arrogance!"

Turning to face my men, their unsure faces awaiting my command, I meet their gaze with determination. The flicker of uncertainty in their eyes is quickly replaced by a glimmer of hope as they sense the shift in my strategy.

"Perhaps it is a trap, a ruse to ambush us," Joben offers, voicing the concern that lingers in the back of my mind.

"Let us hope, Joben," I reply, a wicked smile curling my lips. "For my men yearn for a fight, and I thirst for a victory that will etch our names in the records of history. We shall proceed with caution, but we will not back down. We shall unleash our wrath upon the king's palace, tearing it asunder and leaving nothing but ruins in our wake. It is time to show this realm the true might of the Jotun warriors!"

Raising my arm high into the air, I command the attention of the assembly of warriors, and in an instant, my men assume an eager stance, awaiting my next signal.

I silently count to three, feeling the weight of the moment hanging in the air. With each passing second, the tension builds, until finally, on the unspoken count, I ball my fist and release a resounding shout, "Charge!"

With an earth-shaking roar, my soldiers surge forward, the ground quaking beneath the thunderous stampede of their advance.

I take the lead, guiding them as we storm through the large iron gate, breaching the open barriers that had once kept us at bay.

Like an unstoppable tidal wave, we rush into the realm of Vannaheim, officially entering its inhabited lands. With each intense stride, the towering palace in the distance serves as a beacon, luring me even closer to my victory.

Vannaheim will pay.