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*****
Although Fenye held that exact intention, actualizing it was far easier said than done. A fully focused, non-negligible Surtur genuinely proved why he was worth a whopping forty-five experience points; more importantly, the giant's intrinsic properties heavily countered his standard workflow.
Fenye repeatedly thrust the Ruddy Shrike into Surtur's towering frame. Although his augmented strength allowed him to pierce a clean hole through the giant with every strike, Surtur's physiological recovery rate was extraordinarily potent.
Wounds the size of craters failed to impact his performance in the slightest, sealing up and returning to normal within moments. His molten, lava-like frame was fundamentally nothing more than a physical vessel; the brow-like crown resting atop his skull was his true, absolute core.
Breathing deeply to lock in his focus, Fenye continuously pummeled Surtur while rapidly calculating a method to end the skirmish.
Conversely, Surtur was even more desperate to conclude the battle. Up until this point, he had done nothing but absorb a relentless, one-sided beating. Following his strategic amplifications, Fenye thoroughly outclassed him across every metric save for health regeneration; Surtur had relied entirely on that singular trait just to endure this long.
Yet, no matter how potent a structural recovery rate is, it doesn't nullify the raw agony of being constantly thrashed. Although he appeared physically unfazed on the surface, Surtur completely lacked the desire to prolong this engagement. He was acutely aware that his era was rapidly approaching; he couldn't afford to fall in a localized sandbox like this. Once the fateful day arrived and he reunited with the Eternal Flame, his restored authority would allow him to cleave a hundred versions of Fenye with a single swing.
"Hold!"
Seizing a brief tactical lull in the exchange, Surtur commanded the fire demons to halt their advance while simultaneously shouting to arrest Fenye's momentum.
Hearing Surtur's deafening roar, Fenye paused momentarily. Hesitating for less than a second, he ultimately retracted the Ruddy Shrike, which he had just mentally resolved to thrust toward a highly specific, vulnerable weak point.
Seeing the boy lower his solar lance, Surtur let out an involuntary sigh of relief, experiencing a strange sensation that he had just narrowly bypassed a catastrophic event.
"Insect, I acknowledge that you possess a modicum of genuine strength."
Observing Surtur's attempt to maintain an arrogant posture, Fenye felt a blend of dark humor and genuine curiosity. He remained silent, watching the giant intently to see what his next move would be.
"The great Lord of Fire has chosen to grant a stay of execution for your transgressions. Depart this realm immediately—this is the absolute zenith of my royal mercy!"
Witnessing Surtur manage to phrase an absolute surrender with such domineering grandeur left Fenye completely dumbfounded.
"So, you're admitting you lost," Fenye summarized with absolute serenity, causing the giant's temper to flare instantly.
"Ignorant whelp! I simply refrain from executing you!" Surtur stubbornly dug in his heels.
---
Fenye had zero interest in pointless verbal banter. Capitalizing on Surtur's lapsed guard, his left wrist executed a subtle, concealed twist, manifesting a fist-sized Sling Ring portal directly in front of his frame.
"Secret Technique: One Thousand Years of Death Lance!"
A cold flash of starlight heralded the strike, followed by a lance thrust that moved with the fluid velocity of a soaring dragon!
The Ruddy Shrike plunged straight into the micro-portal, its tip re-emerging instantaneously right behind Surtur's blind spot.
"AAAAAHHH!"
Although the crown served as his true core, the giant's volcanic vessel was still wired with functional pain receptors. Under Fenye's thoroughly shameless surprise attack, the critical weak point sustained a direct hit, forcing the first authentic, agonized scream from Surtur's throat.
Fenye glanced at the Ruddy Shrike with a faint look of internal discomfort. Although he didn't deploy this specific weapon often, it remained an intrinsic accessory to Incursio; having executed such a specific thrust, the psychological association was somewhat awkward, but discarding the high-tier lance was out of the question.
"You actually dare—"
Surtur roared in unbridled fury, but before he could finalize his threat, Fenye's voice cut through the air once more:
"Secret Technique: One Thousand Years of Death Lance—Tsubame Gaeshi!"
The exact same vector, the exact same solar spear, and an even deeper level of agonizing kinetic trauma. Surtur had never anticipated that Fenye would possess the sheer audacity to loop the exact same strike consecutively.
"AAARGH!"
Surtur shrieked at the top of his lungs. While the localized structural damage wasn't fatal, the highly unconventional nature of the target area rendered the agony exceptionally acute.
"Secret Technique—"
Hearing the boy initiate a third verbal queue, Surtur panicked completely. He rapidly clamped one massive hand over his vulnerable rear perimeter while bellowing at the top of his lungs: "Enough!"
In reality, Fenye had no intention of pushing a third consecutive sequence; he merely wanted to mentally rattle Surtur, though he hadn't anticipated the giant's reaction would be quite this explosive.
"What is your true objective here?!"
Surtur was thoroughly incapable of deciphering Fenye's motives. If the boy were an operative deployed by Odin, there was zero logical reason to deny it; if he weren't, then this recurring military conflict made absolutely no sense.
"Yield and admit your defeat," Fenye stated, locking his gaze onto the giant. He was thoroughly exhausted from the prolonged physical exertion; as long as Surtur formally conceded, he could return to his suite and sleep.
A torrent of rage surged within Surtur's chest. Just as he was about to voice a defiant retort, he noticed Fenye subtly hefting the Ruddy Shrike once more. A sudden, cold shiver ran down his volcanic spine, causing him to instantly blurt out:
"I yield!"
---
Though his mouth had formally conceded defeat, Surtur's mind was flooded with venomous thoughts of future retribution. The moment his prime authority was restored, he would systematically flay Fenye alive, suspending his soul within the deepest volcanic pits to endure agonizing cremation for a million years.
Observing how decisively the Lord of Muspelheim had folded, Fenye felt a blend of surprise and mild disappointment as he glanced at the giant's unclad lower half.
Did he seriously think clutching his blind spot would permanently patch the vulnerability?
Checking his system interface to confirm the premium experience points had been credited, Fenye systematically recalled the Ruddy Shrike. This specific spar had proven significantly more taxing than his initial encounter, but securing the desired outcome made the expenditure worthwhile.
With the combat phase officially concluded, Fenye deactivated his enhancement buffs, allowing a wave of deep physical fatigue to wash over his frame like a tidal wave.
"Thank you for the hospitality. I'll be back!"
Despite his profound exhaustion, the substantial leap in his experience bar left Fenye in an exceptionally bright mood. Leaving behind a parting remark that left Surtur thoroughly bewildered, he stepped through a freshly drawn portal and vanished from the chamber.
Watching the intruder abruptly materialize only to casually depart, Surtur stood rooted to the spot in a daze. The boy's final words echoed in his mind, planting a deep, lingering sense of instinctual dread within his chest.
However, as the residual throbbing in his lower perimeter flared up once more, his volatile temper erupted anew. Not even Odin had subjected him to such a profoundly humiliating sequence of events. At this exact moment, his localized hatred for Fenye briefly eclipsed his ancient grudge against the Golden Realm of Asgard.
Resolving to implement strict defensive countermeasures, Surtur vowed that if the boy possessed the audacity to return a third time, escaping would not be a simple affair.
---
The following day, Fenye refrained from launching an immediate offensive. Instead, he spent his time meticulously cataloging the variables of the past two engagements. The second spar proved that without a highly unconventional surprise attack to force a concession, systematically grinding down Surtur's health pool via raw physical parameters was a massive drain on efficiency.
By the time he had thoroughly mapped out Surtur's baseline combat loop and finalized his tactical adjustments, three full days had slipped by. Carrying an eager, optimistic mindset, he opened a portal back down to the excavation site, only to find that the giant had acquired a massive reinforcement.
"Could that be the specific dragon Heimdall mentioned during our conversations?"
Observing the ferocious, colossal reptilian creature restrained by heavy cosmic chains beside Surtur's position, Fenye recalled past discussions with the Asgardian gatekeeper.
Compared to the sleek, majestic aesthetics, streamlined aerodynamic contours, and brilliant silver-white scales of his Blue-Eyes White Dragon, the entity before him couldn't merely be classified as unattractive; it was fundamentally, aggressively hideous.
"You actually possess the nerve to return!"
Seated upon a freshly constructed stone throne, Surtur instantly locked onto Fenye's distinct aroma. His expression transformed into a volatile blend of pure rage and sadistic anticipation at the prospect of immediate vengeance.
Fenye couldn't fathom where the giant derived his renewed confidence, but he simply offered a casual nod, throwing the question right back: "Why wouldn't I dare return?"
(End of Chapter)