Chapter 122: Severing the Chains [Gleipnir]
Dozens—perhaps even hundreds—of Gungnirs.
Faced with such numbers, there was no way to block them all. He would be skewered like a pincushion.
"This is too unfair!!!"
The youngest of the Valkyrie sisters couldn't help but cry out in despair, unable to bear the sight of what was to come.
But her elder sister had repeatedly stressed that she couldn't keep reacting like this—she had to watch every battle closely.
So, she forced herself to endure the pain and watched as countless white streaks of light—the Gungnirs—raced toward—
"Huh?!"
Astonishment!
From the other side, a volley of blue light streaks erupted, colliding head-on with the incoming white ones.
Sparks and flashes of electricity scattered in all directions from the impacts.
In the blink of an eye, every single Gungnir was struck down.
To be precise, they were all shattered, littering the ground with fragments.
Those likely weren't the real Gungnirs—the genuine article wouldn't be so fragile. They seemed more like disposable, inferior imitations.
As for why Loki possessed so many shoddy divine weapons, it wasn't hard to guess.
Rumors had it that many of the divine weapons in the Norse pantheon, including those of Lord Odin, were forged under his command. So it wasn't surprising that he possessed these inferior replicas—likely failed attempts during the forging process.
"Is that all you've got?"
The Dragonslayer spoke with evident disappointment, recalling the spearheads that had shattered the counterfeit Gungnir. Not just one, but multiple.
They flew back and embedded themselves into his armor.
Come to think of it, his armor was studded with numerous spike-like protrusions, giving it a fearsome appearance. So these were all spearheads.
"You, a member of the valiant and battle-hardened Jötunn race—is this all you're capable of? No wonder you were cast out by your own kind."
The Dragonslayer continued to taunt the God of Mischief with these words.
Hearing this, the Trickster's expression twisted to an unprecedented degree of distortion.
Wait—!
"J-Jötunn?"
Göll's face twisted in shock.
What was this Brother Siegfried saying? That Loki was a Jötunn?
How could that be? Loki was clearly a member of the Æsir, the nephew of Lord Odin himself.
But why wasn't Loki refuting it? Instead, he wore an expression of terrifying realization, as if the accusation had struck a nerve.
"Sister Brunhilde, do you know anything about this?"
"I have no idea!"
Brunhilde was equally stunned.
During the war against the Jötunn, Loki had contributed greatly, turning the tide for the Norse pantheon multiple times in moments of crisis.
If Loki truly was a Jötunn, his future would be in serious jeopardy.
Already infamous for his deceitful schemes and malicious pranks, which had earned him the disdain of many gods, this revelation would only paint an even bigger target on his back.
His fate might mirror that of Beelzebub—no, it would likely be worse.
Beelzebub was merely seen as a harbinger of calamity, someone to avoid at all costs.
But Loki? He would be hated. Despised!
After all, during the war against the Jötunn, countless gods had fallen at their hands. The hatred for the Jötunn ran bone-deep.
So how did he know about this?
Was exposing this secret in front of all the gods his way of retaliating against Loki for his past schemes?
This man was truly something—ruthless and cunning!
"No way... Loki is really a Jötunn?"
"Seriously?"
"No wonder he always reeked of something foul!"
"Odin, what's the meaning of this? Why would you harbor a Jötunn among us?"
"An explanation is required!"
The divine audience began questioning the Norse pantheon, with some even shouting for Loki to get off the stage—he was unworthy of representing the gods.
"Hahahahahaha...!"
The God of Mischief on the arena laughed, appearing almost mad.
"That's right, I am of the Jötunn!"
His outright admission plunged the entire coliseum into momentary silence.
Then, a cacophony of voices erupted, the loudest of which demanded his removal.
"Please refrain from throwing objects—ow!"
Heimdall, standing on the stage, tried to calm the crowd but was struck by something, leaving him dazed.
"Heimdall, declare Loki invalid immediately!"
"Get him off the stage!"
"Demand a replacement god!"
Some of the gods were causing an uproar.
"How utterly disgraceful."
The one who spoke was Aphrodite of Greek mythology.
Of course, she wasn't referring to Loki but to the unruly divine audience.
Moreover, she sensed something amiss.
A few among the divine spectators seemed to be deliberately inciting the crowd, amplifying the gods' hatred toward Loki.
Her beautiful eyes flickered with a dangerous glint.
These individuals weren't merely disgusted by Loki—they genuinely sought to push him into the abyss, to turn him against all the gods.
"It seems I'm truly unpopular."
Loki on the stage wasn't angry. Instead, he smirked disdainfully.
"If none of you like me, then I'll simply vanish from your sight."
Though his words sounded self-aware, they filled Aphrodite with unease.
In Loki's eyes, she saw a madness that even she feared.
"Good that you know!"
"Get down now!"
"Disappear from our sight forever!"
Damn it—these gods were still provoking him.
"Mm-hmm, I'll vanish from your sight forever... because I'll send all of you to your graves!"
Loki's declaration stunned everyone, only to be met with a wave of mocking laughter.
"Who does he think he is?"
"He wants all of us dead?"
"Can he even do it?"
"If he could, he wouldn't be in such a sorry state!"
The jeers continued, and Loki merely laughed along.
"What is Loki up to?"
"Has he lost his mind?"
The two ravens cawed, about to demand Loki step down, when their master suddenly stood up, causing them to lose balance and tumble.
Their master's expression had turned grim.
Wh-what was happening?
On the stage, Loki tore open another dark rift in his body and grasped a chain.
Odin recognized that chain—it was Gleipnir.
Before Odin could urgently intervene, Loki severed the chain.