Alright, it's been a while since I posted the latest chapter of this fic. And despite it taking longer than I originally expected, I'm back with the sports festival arc. This one will be heavily focused on the matches, as every single match will be covered as well as showcasing the current strength of the important students of ua. I hope I've given you interesting matchups and a an interesting second event.
I do recommend maybe revisiting the previous three chapters to get a feel of where we loft of.
Ps I changed the way of signifying thoughts with italics instead of this ‚...'
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Sounds of grunting and fists hitting bodies could be heard echoing through the city as the first rays of sunlight reflected off the gilded facade at the tip of the monumental palace, the residents already used to this recurring practice simply sighed.
"Are the princes at it again?"
"Haven't they pummeled each other enough over the last month?"
"Honestly, it's become quite the reliable alarm clock, aye."
If one were to trace these unmistakable sounds back to their origins, they would find themselves on the royal training grounds of Asgard. There, two young men were going at each other with their bare fists, yelling and grunting with each movement.
"Ahhhh, take this, you sniveling swine!" a young Thor yelled as he smashed the ground with two fists. His brother, Loki, hopped back with his practiced grace and wound up for a kick of his own.
"You'll need to be quicker than that if you want to hit me, brother. Here, let me show you how it's done!" Loki delivered a lightning-fast kick on track for Thor's temple, only to get his foot caught in the ginger prince's firm grasp.
"What were you saying, brother?" Thor's grip tightened around his foot as his tone of voice grew more agitated by the second.
Widening his eyes, Loki was barely able to hide a gulp as he swallowed some of his saliva, holding his arms up defensively. "I'm sorry, brother, de—aaaaaahhhhh!" He wasn't able to finish his desperate attempt at an apology, as Thor yanked him by his foot and started repeatedly swinging him against the ground with enough force to leave several Loki-shaped craters around them.
When he finally let up with his pummeling, the prince of mischief just lay there like he'd seen his life flash before his eyes, breathing heavily with his hands resting on his heaving chest.
"And don't ya dare bewitch my ceremonial wear again! Ya do not make a man wear pink for his father's birthday celebration!" Thor grumbled the second part as he turned and took a seat on a nearby bench that Heimdall had put there for the times he wanted to spectate their matches.
Loki, hopefully having understood his brother's complaint, weakly raised an arm and gave a thumbs up. "Aye, brother, I swear next time I'll make it a nice neon green instead," he said in a weak voice.
"Ya little!" Thor got up as another wave of anger overcame him, intending to pound his brother into oblivion for as long as it took to make him understand. But to his dismay, the Loki on the ground simply dispersed into green strands of light.
Grumbling in unintelligible Norse slurs, Thor stomped the ground and cracked it beneath him.
"Damn you, Loki!" he yelled throughout the castle complex.
"Would ya shut it, Sparky!" An angry female voice roared out from behind the prince. "It's fucking sunrise, boy! Can't you get it through yer thick, stubborn skull that some people want to sleep at this ungodly hour, by Odin's beard!"
Turning around, Thor's demeanor changed almost instantly, his previous anger replaced by a faint shiver overcoming his entire body and a bead of cold sweat running down his forehead.
Appearing from behind him was the most feared woman in all of Asgard, captain of the esteemed Valkyries, Astrid the Grey. She had a striking, almost otherworldly beauty, with sharp features, full lips, and piercing orange eyes that seemed constantly alert, with a thin scar running out from under her right eye. Her long silver-gray hair fell around her face and shoulders in loose, uneven locks, with several braids woven through it.
She wore layered black and charcoal clothing, practical but carefully fitted, with leather straps, buckles, pouches, and worn bracers covering her arms. A broad belt cinched her waist, while long, loose, tattered pants covered the muscular thighs beneath it.
Around her shoulders rested a thick mantle of black feathers, giving her silhouette a distinctly wild and ominous quality. Her very noticeably sleepy eyes and the hand resting on her head further heightened the unmistakable sense of danger.
Unlike the rest of the Valkyries, who valued elegance and nobility, this one favored efficiency in battle and an intimidation factor that none in Asgard could hope to match. Not even Odin at his angriest and most serious could be as scary as a slightly pissed-off Astrid.
"Teacher Astrid, it was not my intention to wake you so early in the morning," Thor stammered, hoping this encounter wouldn't end in another beatdown from his combat instructor.
"Cut yer goat crap, we both know ya have anger management issues when it comes to yer brother's pranks!" she yawned, hand over her mouth, stretching her back before dropping down to warm up her legs.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Thor held a hand to his chest. "Thank you for understanding, teacher Astrid," he said, turning to leave, hand balled into a fist. Now, where did that bastard of a brother run off to?
Thor nearly leapt out of his skin as a hand very suddenly and firmly gripped his shoulder, a chill running through him as he felt barely contained anger emanating from behind him. "I may have understood yer anger, Sparky… but that does not mean I forgive ya for getting my ass out of bed at this ungodly hour over yer bad manners!" she yelled, clamping down hard enough on his shoulder to nearly break his bones before sending him racing into the nearest wall.
"Heuk…" Thor grunted at the moment of impact as he spat out a pint of blood. Ugh, my back's gonna be sore for weeks, he thought, struggling to free his arms from the wall.
"I've been far too lenient with ya boys. Now that yer both eighteen, I no longer have to baby ya around," her orange aura flared around her as Thor felt his strength leaving his body. Please, nay, by Odin's beard, no more.
"Ah, right, I should probably punish the other culprit as well." Her hand shot out to the side, seemingly grabbing something and lifting it up. A green shimmer appeared, and suddenly she wasn't holding air any longer but instead held Loki up by his throat.
He too was thrown into the wall, right beside Thor, deep enough to make escape impossible. As both brothers pleaded to be spared, her aura slowly solidified into a set of orange short axes that quickly found themselves lodged just below a certain important part of the male anatomy.
"One more peep, and the next one makes sure yer never having an offspring to pass down yer poor manners." That shut them up immediately as both brothers swallowed hard.
"Now let's start again. You do not wake a fair maiden from her good night's rest," her eyes now closed, wearing that dreadful smile and head tilt that always promised pain.
"Who wishes to repent first?"
"Aghhhhhgggh!" Thor screamed internally before waking from his spiritual rest, his chest heaving up and down at the memory of that dreadful day that he and his brother would probably never forget. He panted, floating in the infinite expanse of the young Ayato's mindscape.
"Having a bad dream, are we?" a voice he'd gotten to know rather extensively over the past week called out from beside him. Turning his head, he saw the frail, white-haired man he still wasn't able to get a read on.
"More like my worst nightmare, Fishbone," earning him a quiet chuckle from the first inhabitant of this strange place. "What is it ya want? Yer not here to watch me in this pitiful state, are ya?" the god grumbled.
"As interesting as it is to witness a god scared, I'm here because I'd like to get your expertise on something," Fishbone said, a hint of amusement still lingering in his voice.
"Aye, give me a minute."
After a bit, the two of them traveled through increasingly deeper areas of the boy's mind and body, passing both the representation of his brain and nervous system before stopping at a heavily locked door. Chains of all manner of thickness and length wrapped around it, with a small lock connecting it all together.
"So what's behind this one? Seems rather well guarded and hidden," Thor remarked, letting his fingers glide over the impressively sturdy chains.
With a snap of his fingers, Fishbone opened the lock, and all the chains dispersed into particles of light. The door slowly opened, and behind it was…
"The Heart," the frail man said, a dark undertone in his voice. And upon looking at the grotesque form of the organ inside the chamber, Thor understood why.
"By Odin's beard!" Thor's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets as he laid eyes upon it.
Grey in color and barely held together by green and blue stitches, the heart—if it could even still be called that—hung suspended in the air by chains of the same colors as the stitches. With each rhythmic pump, small amounts of black liquid trickled out of it, spilling into a pool of the same liquid below.
"I thought you could maybe identify what these are," he said, snapping his fingers again, and this time golden runes, unmistakably of Norse origin, revealed themselves, grotesquely carved into its flesh.
While initially stunned at their appearance, Thor's face eventually settled as a grim realization came over him. "Aye, I know them," Thor said quietly, arms crossed over his belly.
"It's the seal of the Asgardian royal pantheon."