Sigurd, who had been enjoying the fight, realized this was no training session with his brother. He began to get serious.
He launched a powerful attack against Surtur, landing a direct blow to the chest that sent the fire giant flying back hundreds of meters. Simultaneously, Sigurd used his blade to release a spatial slash toward Malekith. Malekith, a powerful magician in his own right, deflected the attack and used the Aether to warp space, altering the blade's trajectory to dodge it.
Surtur recovered and launched a full-force counterattack, the impact blowing Sigurd backward. Sigurd knew fighting both of them at once was his only option. He focused his magic on Surtur while launching a ruthless series of strikes against Malekith.
As the fight reached its peak intensity, a surge of energy beams rained down on Svartalfheim. Sigurd was so absorbed in combat he didn't immediately realize reinforcements had arrived.
Odin watched his brother fighting two of the Nine Realms' peak powerhouses head-to-head and holding his own.
"Asgardian Army! Slaughter anything that stands in your path!" God-King Bor gave the order, then moved to engage the powerful Dark Elf warriors.
Surtur and Malekith knew their plan was in ruins, and escape was no longer an option.
"Malekith, use your full strength! The war has already begun!" Surtur roared, releasing his full Eternal Flame form. Just as he was about to attack Sigurd, a voice stopped him.
"Let's battle equally, Surtur. You should never have left your hiding place." Odin began his fight with Surtur, a moment he had waited for over a hundred thousand years.
With Odin taking on one of the enemies, the pressure on Sigurd decreased drastically. Now, he could focus on Malekith one-on-one.
Malekith looked at Sigurd and used the Aether to lessen the impact of his attacks. Sigurd switched to a full, overwhelming assault. Although Malekith possessed the superhuman strength of the Dark Elves, he rarely used it in close combat, but he was forced to now against a proficient magician-warrior like Sigurd.
Sigurd, fully immersed in the fight, suddenly changed tactics. He transformed into his 25-foot-tall divine form and, with one kick, smashed a caught-off-guard Malekith straight into the side of his ark. Sigurd didn't stop, launching a series of energy blasts that scored direct hits on Malekith's lower body.
Writhing in pain, Malekith looked at Sigurd with pure hatred. He raised the Aether, intending to warp reality itself, but Sigurd's spear pierced through his chest before he could. Sigurd appeared right beside him, severing Malekith's left hand before he could activate the Aether. Sigurd didn't risk touching the stone himself, unsure of the consequences.
His eyes locked on Malekith, and he prepared to strike the final blow. But just then, a spatial crack ripped open near them. Sigurd knew this was definitely a work of reality stone which started its defense mechanism. He still struck at Malekith's head with spatial power and recalled his spear, but he couldn't see the elf's fate through the chaotic rift. He knew Malekith wasn't dead, but he was forced to fly back as the void expanded.
His focus shifted to the Reality Stone, but it had already been swallowed by the spatial rift.
Sigurd's voice roared across the entire battlefield. "Avoid the void rift!"
At his warning, everyone began evading the growing anomaly. Sigurd then looked to Odin, who had successfully severed Surtur's crown and captured his Eternal Flame.
Sigurd turned his attention to the battle where his father fought other Dark Elf powerhouses. He didn't stop the war but went into a full slaughter mode. The forces present were Malekith's core supporters, all butchers in their own right, and Sigurd felt no hesitation in cutting them down.
Just as Sigurd slaughtered anyone who crossed his path, a commanding voice rang out.
"Surrender yourselves! Your leader has been swallowed by the void. If you wish the Dark Elf race to survive, lay down your arms!"
Sigurd heard his father using his authority to formally claim Svartalfheim as an Asgardian territory. He stopped killing and looked at the remaining Dark Elf powerhouses. They looked back at him, a figure bathed in their kin's blood, and genuine fear shone in their eyes.
Sigurd scanned the remaining Dark Elves. They had lost nearly fifty percent of their top-tier warriors, but he felt no remorse. He knew many Dark Elves had hidden from Malekith's tyranny; now, they would resurface to fill the power vacuum.
"The God-King has spoken. Surrender, or not a single Dark Elf on this battlefield will be left alive. All clan leaders hiding in the shadows will present themselves here within half an hour, or the entirety of Svartalfheim will face the consequences."
Sigurd's emotionless voice carried across the realm. Having killed more than he could count, his demeanor had become ruthlessly cold.
Bor looked at his youngest son and saw that he had completed the transition from a trained warrior to a hardened veteran of the battlefield.
Odin, who had refrained from slaughtering low-level soldiers, had watched Sigurd cut down all who stood against him. He didn't see killing as a problem; he himself had helped his father secure dominance across the Nine Realms through war. Sigurd had simply strengthened his will in the crucible of life and death.
The Dark Elves, seeing no alternative, began throwing their weapons to the ground, many turning to help their wounded comrades.
Sigurd's gaze then swept over the Asgardian army, joined by troops from Vanir and the Light Elves. He saw Freya, Frigga's aunt, who had fought personally and now looked exhausted. Though his own fight with Malekith had been the focus, he realized the war had been raging for over twenty-four hours.