*Ding*
ꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏ
Congratulations! You have successfully destroyed any chance the kingdom of Asgard has of recovering. As such, you have become known across the planet as the "Destroyer” and are now feared by the inhabitants.
ꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏ
Son of a bitch... I sighed.
*Ding!*
ꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏ
Name: Torga
Race: Gluttonous Elemental Serpentine Dragon
Classification: Tier 7
Titles: Destroyer of Asgard
Skills: Minor Stealth, Heat Detection, Supreme Gluttony, Supreme Durability up, Supreme Strength up, Supreme Growth, Minor Mental Resistance up, Greater Petrifying Gaze, Greater Acid Venom, Detect Concealment, Energy Breath, Superior Elemental Resistance, Fly, Puppet Maker, Body Possession, Magic Enhancement, Elemental Manipulation
Traits: Aura of Gluttony +8, Growth +13, Strong Willed, Venomous, Aquatic, Winged, Immunity to Mind Control
ꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏ
I stared at the new addition to my personal screen and had to choke back the desire to scream. Just telling me about the title was one thing, but now I had to look at it every time I saw my status?
What kind of cruel bastard would implement that idea?
Interlude: Reunion
"NO!" THOR YELLED. HE was at Findral’s side in a second, taking Ayla’s body from her and setting her on the deck. “Did she—Is she?” he stammered. Thor hated himself for his weakness immediately.
“No,” Findral shook her head. “She’s breathing, if barely. She hit her head pretty hard when she landed, but she should be fine once Hali takes a look at her.”
Thor felt himself sighing before he knew it. He tucked Ayla’s head into his chest and held her while Hali started chanting in the strange language of the druids. As she spoke, Thor found himself reminded of the only druid he’d ever met before meeting Ayla. But the memory passed as quickly as it came, and he focused on Ayla. The entire process took only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Thor. Holding onto Ayla’s unconscious form, unable to do anything to help her...
Ayla sucked in a gasping breath and had a coughing fit as she tried and failed to sit up.
“Easy, easy Ayla. You’re okay. You’re safe, I got ya,” Thor whispered into her ear, pulling her head deeper into his chest to ensure she couldn’t accidentally hurt herself.
She tapped reassuringly on his shoulder, obviously grateful for the comfort he was giving her. A hand smacked Thor’s forehead. “She can’t breathe, you twit!” Hali yelled.
He released Ayla’s head and she immediately shoved him away and sucked in several mouthfuls of air.
“What, was the concussion not enough for you so you decided to add asphyxiation on top of it?” Hali accused.
“Easy, Hali, he didn’t mean it,” Findral said.
“Yes, I—I didn’t mean it. Ayla, I swear, I—”
“Am a dumbass?” Ayla’s eyes were full of tears. She coughed into her hand several times, then tapped on Thor’s arm. “Don’t worry, dear. I’m well aware.”
Thor helped her to her feet, making sure to hold onto her arm to keep her steady.
“How’re you feeling, Ayla?” Hali asked. “Any dizziness? Nausea?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks, Hali.”
“Of course.” Hali smiled at her.
Thor absently noticed that Hali was incredibly beautiful when she smiled.
“Just make sure not to let the oaf smother you the next time he gives you a hug, okay? You’ve been through a lot today. You don’t need him adding any more trauma on top of it.”
“Trauma?” Ayla asked. Then the light of recognition appeared in her eyes and she pushed her way free of Thor’s arms. She stumbled over to the edge of the ship and gazed up at the gargantuan form of her monster—Er, father.
When he’d heard that Ayla had been taken in by such an... eccentric man when she was eleven, Thor had originally thought it was a joke. He came to believe otherwise after the numerous stories she spoke of, and the high praise she hoisted upon him. However, looking at him now, Thor was having a hard time picturing Torga as anything but a vicious monster.
It’s difficult to put into words just how massive Torga was in his current form. Even from several miles away, his form cast an imposing shadow on the howling mountains: He was easily over two thousand feet long—possibly three thousand, the twin seventy-foot horns jutting out from the back of his skull and the thirty-foot-long horn on the tip of his snout made him look far more dragon-like than Thor was comfortable with.
Dragons were known to be cunning, manipulative, extremely powerful, and vicious enough to use that power at the slightest insult. They weren’t “evil,” but it wasn’t uncommon for them to be described as such. And Torga? He was all of those things and more, because he appeared able to shrink himself at will. Ayla had once mentioned he was a tier seven creature. Thor vehemently disagreed. He’d killed tier sevens before, and Torga—he was no seven.
*Boom!*
Thor reacted quickly to the sound of cannon fire and dove on top of the three girls. They hit the desk and braced for impact. Those damn Jötnar might damage their vessel, but Thor was confident it could survive a single barrage. And then they would repay those bastards for every splinter.
“Hold your fire, hold your fire! It’s one of ours,” a familiar voice yelled.
“Eh?” Thor looked over his shoulder. The clouds were too thick at this altitude to see anything more than a large shadow moving towards them. The crew grew anxious. Under the orders of Thor’s first mate Jaune, they prepared to defend the ship with their lives, if necessary.
“Bastards!” Hali yelled. She shoved against Thor’s chest and fought to get back to her feet.
“No, wait a minute,” Thor whispered to the girls. “Hold your fire!” He hollered to the rest of the crew. They were clearly confused. However, they’d long since learned to follow his orders without question.
Thor stood in front of the girls and cupped his hands around his mouth, “Heimdall! Is that you?” A pregnant silence came over them as they waited. A few minutes later, the nose of a colossal airship poked through the clouds on a collision course with their ship. Thor recognized it immediately. At six stories tall and over nine hundred feet long, Gungnir, The King of Asgard’s personal ship and the spearhead of his army, appeared as if by magic.
Gungnir slowed to a stop within boarding distance. A heavy thump resounded through the ship as something heavy landed on the deck. That “something” turned out to be a large man with skin so pale, it was almost transparent. He stood to his full height of seven feet and pushed his shoulder length white hair behind his ears. His eyes lacked discernible pupils, but that meant little to Asgard’s guardian.
“Ahoy there, Thor. Fancy seeing you here,” Heimdall said in a calm tone. He stared unblinkingly ahead, as if he were blind. But nothing could be further from the truth. Thor knew Heimdall was observing anything and everything of note within miles around them.
“Heimdall, so you did make it.” Thor approached the giant and held out his arm for him to shake. Heimdall ignored it.
“Most of those within the palace survived the initial assault. Your parents and siblings included.”
“That’s great news,” Thor exclaimed. “What of the rest of Asgard? Surely we were able to evacuate them?”
“Some, but not all.”
“Well, what’re we waiting for? With my crew and Gungnir, we can easily retake Asgard.”
“I—do not think that’s an option anymore,” Heimdall cryptically replied. He raised his hand and pointed into the distance.
Thor slowly turned around and gazed over the railing. Heimdall was pointing in the direction of Asgard, which was clear from the shining light piercing the clouds. But Thor wasn’t sure what was stopping them from retaking Asgard. And then it became obvious. The clouds parted for miles ahead of them, no doubt due to Heimdall’s magic, allowing Thor
to see Asgard for the first time in months. Then he saw Torga and his heart fell.
Torga was floating above Asgard, completely untouched by the Jötnar ships that no doubt continued to attack him after Thor and his party retreated. His red eyes glowed ominously, even as his face and body were illuminated by the golden light of Asgard.
For a brief moment, Torga reminded Thor of one of the old legends: The tale of the serpent god Quetzalcoatl.
Without moving, without so much as twitching, Torga somehow ripped a third of Asgard from the main body. A few moments later, another third was ripped loose... Then, the whole of Asgard plummeted from the sky. Torga remained fixed in place, his eyes shining with a red light and what appeared to be steam trickling from his mouth as he breathed.
It was then that Thor realized how silly he was being. Torga was no god.
He was a demon.
Chapter 11
I SUCKED THE LAST PORTION of the dragon’s tail into my mouth and swallowed. Due to the sheer size of the dragon, my aura couldn’t dissolve it fast enough for my schedule, so I finally managed to fill my stomach for the first time in—well, years.
I looked around for a few minutes and spotted a titanic sized airship hovering in the distance. They haven’t started shooting at me yet. Maybe Thor was right, and the Asgardians managed to make it.
I flew towards the ship at a steady pace. When I was about halfway there, I activated the jewel and shrunk to my more manageable sixty feet. My eyes widened as I noticed a discrepancy. I was longer now, at least eighty feet long in this form. I cursed at the realization that I could grow so quickly now. Just another thing I need to keep an eye out for. I sighed.
*Ding*
ꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏ
You have eaten the following race for the first time.
Ice Dragon: Tier 7
ꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏꝏ
I dismissed the pop-up a few minutes before I arrived at the airship. Originally, I’d planned to blow it out of the sky if it proved hostile: however, my fears were unfounded as I spotted Ayla and the others standing on the deck with Thor and some albino looking guy.
I thought about landing next to them, but remembering my new “gift,” I decided against it altogether. I would have to hover until I could have a talk with Uriel about how to control my aura.
I inspected Ayla from a safe distance. Looking her up and down, I didn’t spot any obvious injuries, though I was still concerned about internal injuries. I knew from experience that concussions, internal bleeding, and other deadly conditions didn’t always have obvious signs. “How’re you feeling, Brat?” I asked after a moment or two of no one saying anything. I looked around and noticed for the first time that half the crew weren’t even looking at me, and the other half looked—hostile?
Hali looked uncomfortable, as if she wanted to be anywhere but here. While Findral gazed at me with sad eyes.
What’s up with them?
“What have you done?” Ayla asked in a tone so low I had trouble hearing her.
“What do you mean? I killed the Jötnar, of course,” I said. I was confused about what she expected me to say. I’d killed them for what they’d almost done to her. Wasn’t that a good thing?
“No, that’s not what you did,” she uttered venomously. Tear-filled eyes landed on me, and I found myself almost wanting to move further away. The rage in her eyes was palpable, and for the first time in her life, that rage was directed at... me.
“Ayla, I don’t think he understands,” Findral muttered just loud enough for the five of us—six if you included the albino—to hear.
“Of course, he doesn’t. He never does,” she spat. “Where are the other Asgardians? Hmm?”
Thor mumbled something I didn’t catch, but Ayla shot him down immediately. “No, I’ll deal with this. You go spend time with your family.”
“... You sure?” he asked. His voice was tinted with trepidation, but also something else. Anger, perhaps?
Why is everyone so pissed? I wondered.
“Yes,” Ayla said, never once taking her hate-filled eyes off of me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Think about it for a minute. I’m sure it’ll come to you.”
“Now, Brat. I’m getting sick of your attitude—”
“They were inside Asgard!” she screamed. The fury in her voice made me move back a bit.
“What—No—the Jötnar said—”
“The Jötnar lied, like Thor told you he did. The Asgardians were being held prisoner inside Asgard as a way to draw the survivors into a trap. There are millions of people inside that city—sorry, there were millions of people inside that city.”
The horrified realization of what she was saying hit me. At first, I didn’t believe it—didn’t want to believe it. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I’d known that torture wasn’t the most reliable method of getting information, exactly for this reason. But my own arrogance blinded me to the truth.
“Ayla, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“You’re sorry? Sorry won’t rebuild their home. Sorry won’t help these people survive the winter when this ship runs out of mana. Sorry won’t bring their friends and family back.” She hissed, growing louder and more irate with every addendum.
“Ayla, that’s enough,” Findral growled. She placed her hand on Ayla’s shoulder and spun her around to face her. “He’s apologized and explained what happened.”
“Of course, you would side with him. He committed genocide, Fin. At this point, he’s no better than the dragon that ate Granny—"Ayla’s face was spun to the side as Findral’s fist slammed into her cheek.
“Findral!” I yelled. A portion of my aura flared, briefly becoming visible to the naked eye. I forcefully shoved it down and grit my teeth. “That’s enough, Fin. I appreciate you standing up for me, but Ayla is right. Intentional or not, I’m personally responsible for their deaths,” I said in a softer tone. “And that’s something I’ll have to live with.”
“Master...”
“Hali, any word of your family yet?”
“N—No. Not yet.”
“I see. I’m going to go look for them,” I told her.
“Thanks, Torga.”
“Don’t thank me, Hali.” I sighed. Without another word, I angled my body away from the ship and dove towards the forest far beneath us.
IT TOOK SEVERAL HOURS, but I finally found the crashed ship on the outskirts of the plateau. I created a platform out of stone and used it to haul them back up to the ship.
Fenris was rightfully pissed about the entire situation. After all, his family could’ve died in that crash. Luckily, the Asgardians didn’t mess around when it came to the safety measures on their ships. The ship was ruined beyond repair, but everyone survived with only some scrapes, bruises, and soiled trousers to show for it.
“Hey, Fenris. Can I talk to you for a minute?” I said quietly.
“Yes, I did notice that you’d gained weight. Look, can this wait for a while? I’m tired and I’d like to take a bath—”
“I’m leaving.”
Fenris’ mouth closed immediately, and all traces of exhaustion left him. “Are you serious? You’re really going through with it?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, Mutt.”
“There’s always a choice to be made,” he said emphatically. “You just haven’t found the right one yet.”
“Fenris—I—I can’t touch any of you, not even accidentally.” I twisted my tail around and brought it within ten feet of the railing. The wood disappeared in an instant, devoured by my aura. I had to quickly withdraw my tail before I did any real damage to the rest of the ship. A railing could be replaced, the hull—not so much. “That is what will happen to anything that comes within ten feet of me. You think I want that to happen to Ayla, to Findral, or any of your kids?”
Fenris looked uncomfortable at the showing. “There’s ways around that. Uriel could
whip up some enchantment to hold it at bay, or you could learn to control it on your own. This doesn’t mean you have to leave, you fucking idiot.”
“And in the meantime, am I just supposed to be extra careful not to accidentally kill one of you?” I muttered derisively. “I could barely control my hunger when I wasn’t constantly consuming everything within ten feet of my body, and, newsflash, have you seen me lately? I can’t even see my tail half the time because I’m so gods be damned big!” I hissed. “Face it, Mutt. I don’t have many options, here.”
“Are you going to tell the kids?”
“I’ll make sure Findral knows. Hali and Solon too.”
“But not Ayla?”
“Ayla—doesn’t want to see me right now.”
“Since when did you care what other people wanted? The snake I know would force her to listen, especially when it was over something this serious. You could die doing this, Torga. Are you really going to let whatever happened between the two of you be the last thing you ever say to her?” he finished quietly. “Think about it. I can’t force you to speak to her, but it’s the least you could do.”
“Alright, I’ll think about it.” I sighed.
THREE HOURS LATER, I found myself hovering alongside the ship, since I couldn’t land on it for fear of destroying it. I discarded all thoughts of throwing myself a pity party and focused on the task at hand: talking with the king and queen of Asgard and trying to save Ayla’s engagement.
The queen, Lady Frigga, was calmly sitting in a chair someone had prepared for her, looking for all the world like some kind of supermodel in a thin white dress that exposed her shoulders. Her golden tresses hung loosely over her chest, while a golden helmet adorned with lifelike bird wings sat atop her head.
In stark contrast to the beautiful queen, the man standing behind her with his hands resting upon her slender shoulders was Odin: King of Asgard. He was a stern-looking man with short gray hair and a long silver beard. His right eye was covered by a strip of leather, though his other eye was the color of storm clouds. The king stood before me in a loose-fitting pair of tan trousers and a black shirt emblazoned with golden script that I had no chance of understanding.
A Snake's Path (A Snake's Life Book 2) Page 10