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*****
In this mysterious state, Thor's power surged several levels beyond his previous limit. Not only were his lightning bolts thicker and more devastating, but his raw strength and speed had also skyrocketed.
The battle grew increasingly fierce. This time, Thor was no longer being suppressed; his current state allowed him to coat Mjolnir in a permanent layer of crackling electricity.
After accidentally taking a glancing blow from the hammer, Feny discovered that it now carried a numbing, paralytic effect. This forced him to exercise absolute caution.
Watching their prince fight with such ferocity, the Asgardian crowd roared in approval. However, the cheers weren't solely for Thor. A significant portion of the audience was rooting for Feny. Asgardians worshipped strength, and seeing Feny match Thor with such power and style had won many of them over.
Perhaps fueled by the electric atmosphere, Thor fought with growing intensity, the light from his body becoming blindingly bright.
Across the clearing, the sounds of explosions and thunderous cracks were incessant. It was a clash of elements: Feny's Explosion magic against Thor's Thunderous Might.
"Explosion!"
Feny dodged and weaved, unleashing rapid-fire bursts of magic. Crimson circles manifested one after another, raining bombardment down on Thor.
However, in his "lightning-eye" mode, Thor's speed and reflexes were so enhanced that the Explosion spells found it difficult to land a direct hit.
The battle dragged on. Feny utilized the agility of Sky-Walking to "kite" Thor through the air. Although he occasionally took a bolt of lightning or a clip from the hammer, the formidable defense of Incursio kept him from sustaining any major injuries.
As time passed, the silver light in Thor's eyes began to dim, and the arcs of electricity dancing across his skin lost their luster. Feny sensed his opening.
In truth, Feny was also exhausted. He was currently maintaining Sky-Walking, his Breathing Technique, and the Golden Golem to enhance his rapid-fire spells all at once. Aside from the resting Blue-Eyes White Dragon, the Violet Fry-Chicken Roll, and his trump card, Zafkiel, he had essentially exhausted his entire toolkit.
As the saying goes, "The first strike is full of vigor, the second is flagging, and the third is exhausted." Thor also felt his divine strength beginning to wane, with fatigue washing over him like an incoming tide.
This made Thor desperate to finish the fight before his transformation fully expired.
Feny, however, had already seen through Thor's condition. He stopped trying to trade blows and focused entirely on evasion. His nimble movements were like those of a small bird, making it nearly impossible for Thor—who was being pulled along by his hammer rather than truly flying—to track his path.
Finally, after nearly ten minutes, the glow in Thor's eyes faded completely. The electricity vanished, and he reverted to his original state.
"Finally, it's over!"
Seeing Thor's depletion, the red eyes of Feny's visor flared brilliantly. Although he was near his own limit and struggling to maintain Incursio, he proved to be more durable than the God of Thunder.
"Explosion!"
This particular blast wasn't fast, nor was it particularly powerful, but Thor couldn't dodge it. With the end of his burst, he had fallen into a state of temporary weakness.
Feny descended from the sky. Looking at Thor, who lay disheveled on the ground with his helmet rolling several feet away, Feny walked over slowly. Aware of the massive crowd watching, he didn't want to humiliate the Prince too much.
He simply pointed a palm at Thor and said, "I win."
"I haven't lost yet!"
Thor scrambled back up, covered in dust and soot. He grumbled defiantly, struggling to lift Mjolnir to continue the fight.
Feny had no interest in continuing. He looked at Thor's scorched and messy golden locks and threatened, "Surrender now, or I'll singe the rest of your hair off!"
"You wouldn't!"
Thor gasped in horror, stumbling back a few steps. He reached up and felt the damaged patches of his hair, a look of genuine heartbreak crossing his face.
Given the choice between his dignity and his glorious mane, Thor ultimately chose his hair. He looked at Feny's hand, which was pointed menacingly at his head, and forced out a low, reluctant whisper:
"You win!"
Hearing the concession, Feny let out a long sigh of relief. He checked the system to confirm he had received the experience points, then immediately deactivated Incursio.
Without the support of the armor, the crushing weight of exhaustion hit him. He swayed on his feet, causing Thor to blink in surprise. "You're out of strength too?" Thor asked.
"Pretty much," Feny said, sitting down right where he stood. He summoned a Violet Fry-Chicken Roll to help him recover. "But if we kept going, I definitely would have lasted longer than you!"
"Impossible!"
Thor was instantly indignant. If he had known Feny was also at his breaking point, he would have pushed for one last exchange. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of regret.
"Believe what you want," Feny rolled his eyes. He wasn't lying; even if his physical strength gave out, he still had Zafkiel: Bullet Four. With a bit of time, he could have "reset" himself to full health.
The battle was over, and no amount of anger from Thor would change the result. Watching Feny devour the chicken roll, Thor sat down across from him, looking quite cross.
"Give me one of those!"
Feny glanced at the "requesting" Prince. Considering the massive amount of experience Thor had just provided, Feny didn't hold a grudge. He summoned two chicken rolls and handed them over.
The Asgardian crowd watched in bewilderment as the two legendary combatants suddenly sat down in the middle of the dirt to eat chicken.
"What are they doing?"
"Is it over?"
"Who won?"
"It has to be Mr. Halsey. Didn't you see what he said to the Prince at the end?"
"Nonsense! Prince Thor would never lose!"
As the crowd whispered, Sif and the Warriors Three—all of whom were on good terms with both parties—exchanged looks and walked into the center of the clearing.
The dueling ground was a wreck. Between the craters from Feny's magic and the scorched furrows from Thor's lightning, the landscape had been completely transformed.
Sif hurried to Thor's side, looking at his disheveled state with concern. "What happened here?"
"I lost. He tricked me!" Thor grumbled to Sif, sounding like a sulking child. "He was out of strength too. If I'd fought for a little longer, I would have won."
"That's just your imagination," Feny retorted. He looked at Sif and the Warriors Three, summoning a few more chicken rolls. "Want a taste?"
"Try them, they're delicious!" Thor suggested between bites, already halfway through his second roll. He looked back at Feny. "Give me a few more!"
Feny rolled his eyes and summoned rolls for the four newcomers first, then finally gave Thor another handful.
Feny hadn't really been injured; he was just sitting there to regain his stamina. Thor, however, had been battered and burned. But between the legendary resilience of Asgardian physiology and the magical healing of the chicken rolls, he was already starting to look like his old self again.
(End of Chapter)