With each passing day, the monolithic walls around Ásgarðr grew higher, like an unstoppable ring of fate.
Its cold shadow began to fall before the door of the Golden Palace and also weighed on the hearts of every Æsir god.
The heavy atmosphere finally forced the God-King Odin to break his silence.
He urgently summoned the gods to the Golden Palace, his one-eyed gaze sweeping over the panicked faces below, his voice like a cold wind wrapped in ice, shattering the suffocating silence:
"The walls are rising quickly," his words were simple and heavy, beating against the nerves of every god.
"We have given an unbreakable oath, an oath confirmed by our rings and weapons. If he completes the wall within the allotted time, we will have to give him the sun, the moon, and Tyrfing."
As soon as these words were spoken, the hall instantly erupted.
Fear and responsibility were like a hot potato that the gods were impatient to throw away.
In the end, all spear points—all eyes—were directed at the instigator: Loki.
"It's you! Loki! It was you who persuaded us with your rhetoric!"
"It's you who guaranteed this was a winning bet!"
"You have to solve this problem! Immediately! Right now!"
Accusations and demands rained down on Loki like hail.
The trickster god was pale, and under the angry gaze of the gods, he realized he had no way out.
If this matter wasn't resolved, his position in Ásgarðr would be precarious.
Helpless, aggrieved, and with a hint of desperation, Loki gritted his teeth and squeezed out a phrase between his teeth: "...I'll handle it."
He didn't reveal the plan, but the gods vaguely guessed what method he might use, judging by the ominous light in his eyes and his resolute tone—though they would never admit they expected or agreed to such a method.
That night, the wind and snow were as relentless as ever.
When the silent master guided Svaðilfari and again dragged the empty stone sled into the mountains, a hidden figure quietly followed behind.
Loki, the master of shapeshifting, transformed into an alluring mare with a sleek coat and captivating eyes.
In the foothills, far from Ásgarðr, where only wind, snow, and boulders blew, Loki's mare 'accidentally' appeared on Svaðilfari's path.
She whinnied seductively, the air filled with carefully woven magic.
The silent and powerful gray divine steed for the first time halted its unwavering step.
A ripple, caused by instinct, flickered in its calm eyes.
The master tried to restrain it, but Svaðilfari was captivated by a more primal force, which broke free from control and followed the enchanting 'mare' into the depths of the dark forest, disappearing into the howling snow and thick tree shadows.
Loki's plan seemed to be going well.
He had managed to distract Svaðilfari, delaying this evening and even subsequent work.
He was immersed in the calculations of a successful plan, not noticing that beneath the shadow of a snowy boulder above, an imperceptible ripple of space softly undulated.
Hermes, the trickster god from the world of Chaos, was hiding his figure, watching the unimaginable scene below with great interest.
He played with a shimmering rhomboid crystal in his hand—it was his tool, and also an image recording device.
"Oh, really... a unique strategy. This is a god on the same level as Zeus," Hermes whispered to himself, a playful smile on the corner of his lips, with the tolerance and appreciation for such affairs unique to the Greek gods.
"This is worth appreciating, definitely worth appreciating. Presumably, some God-King would be very interested in this... Perhaps, at a critical moment in the future, this 'Norse-style picture' will come in handy."
He skillfully manipulated the crystal, clearly recording the absurd and secret 'pursuit' and 'connection' in the forest below.
Every detail—Loki's mare's posture and Svaðilfari's restlessness—was perfectly preserved in this otherworldly artifact.
Hermes finished all this, and his figure dissolved again into the shadows, as if he had never been there.
On the Ásgarðr side, the next morning, the gods nervously gathered and found that the city walls had not grown as usual.
The master stood alone by the unfinished wall, silently looking towards the distant mountains, and his horse was nowhere to be seen.
The master had failed to complete the wall on time.
At dawn at the end of the agreed period, the gap in the unclosed wall opened like a mocking mouth towards Ásgarðr.
The Æsir gods, who had long been unable to contain themselves, surged out of the Golden Palace with Odin's consent and surrounded the lonely craftsman.
They had transformed their anxiety and panic from when the contract was first made into the ugly face of a victor.
Insults and accusations rained down on the silent craftsman like hail:
"Lowly foreigner! You failed!"
"Get out of Ásgarðr! Losers are not welcome here!"
"How dare you covet our sun, moon, and divine sword? Dream on!"
Faced with this fierce malice and blatant betrayal, the master's head, which had been hanging down, slowly rose.
On his weathered face, there was no disappointment of a loser, only a mountain-like calm and a majesty that was completely enraged.
"Failed?" His voice was no longer low, but exploded like thunder, shaking the gods' eardrums until they buzzed.
"No, it is you, the Æsir, who have betrayed the sacred oath!"
His body began to swell, muscles bulging, skin taking on a stony gray-brown hue, and his entire being radiated the rich and ancient icy aura belonging to Jötunheimr.
"I am a mountain giant!"
He revealed his true form, tall enough to make the gods look up to him with respect, and his voice was full of the rage and contempt of the deceived.
"And you, gods who claim to be noble, are nothing but lying, untrustworthy bastards! If my horse, my Svaðilfari, were still here, by now this wall would be perfectly closed and securely guarding your kingdom!"
His enormous fingers pointed at the unfinished gap, and each word was like a hammer striking the hearts of the gods, revealing the facts they didn't want to admit.
"I was supposed to take Tyrfing, the sun, and the moon as my due! I should have left you, treacherous people, in eternal darkness and cold, and you even lost the powerful sword that just arrived!"
This picture of the future shocked and angered the gods, while also instilling fear.
"Shut up! Filthy giant blood!" a god roared loudly.
But the mountain giant said nothing more; the anger of being deceived and the loss of his partner consumed his last shred of reason.
He let out an earth-shattering roar, like a collapsing mountain peak, and charged at the assembled gods!
The giant's fist swung, raising a howling wind, and was about to erupt into a bloody storm before the Golden Gates of the Palace.
At this critical moment—
"Enough! Filthy giant!"
A roar like thunder exploded from the distant sky!
Accompanied by thunder, a fierce lightning bolt tore through the sky and plummeted from the heavens with unstoppable speed!
It was Thor! Thor, who had gone to the East, returned at this moment on his goat-drawn chariot!
He saw the chaos before the Golden Palace, the giant who had revealed his true form and was attacking his comrades.
Without the slightest hesitation, Thor leaped from the chariot, and Mjölnir was already in his hand, shrouded in dazzling thunder.
He was like an enraged bull, charging at the mountain giant from behind.
"Try this!"
Thor roared in anger, concentrating the divine power of his entire body, and Mjölnir struck the mountain giant's heart from behind with the force to shatter stars!
"Crunch——!"
A muffled sound of shattering bones was clearly audible. The mountain giant's attacking momentum abruptly ceased; his enormous body jerked violently, and the rage in his eyes was instantly replaced by astonishment and a rapid draining of life.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, simply spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with ice shards, and his huge body crashed to the ground like a falling mountain, raising a cloud of dust.
The crisis was averted, and the gods breathed a sigh of relief, then burst into applause for the rest of their lives, rushing forward to praise Thor's bravery.
"Thor! You returned just in time!"
"Well done! This filthy giant deserves to die!"
Thor took Mjölnir, wiped a handful of splattered ice blood from his cheek, looked around at the gods, and grinned broadly:
"Haha! It seems that when I came home from the East, everyone had prepared a little fun for me! Perfect, just a chance to stretch my muscles and bones!"
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