Far away from Asgard, Freya moved her body with urgency. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. The sky above was a pale blue without any clouds and the sun cast a warm light over everything it touched.
But despite the peaceful surroundings Freya's expression an intense focus. She was in a secluded glade, hidden deep within one of the ancient forests of Vanaheim, her homeland. The trees around her were ancient with thick and gnarled trunks.
In the center of the glade, Freya knelt before a stone altar covered in intricate Runes that pulsed with a faint glow. Her hands moved in precise deliberate patterns weaving threads of magical energy into the air. The threads shimmered with a soft light and forming a complex web that hovered above the altar.
She was performing a delicate and ancient ritual that required all of her concentration and skill. Sweat beaded on her brow and her usually serene face was etched with strain.
This was no ordinary spell—what she was attempting was something far more difficult and dangerous. It was a task that required the full extent of her power and even then, success was not guaranteed.
As she worked, the light in the glade began to di as if the magic she was invoking was drawing energy from the world around her. The runes on the altar flared brighter. Their glow becoming almost blinding. The threads of magic in the air grew more vibrant.
But something was wrong.
Freya's eyes narrowed as she sensed a disturbance within the spell. The threads of magic began to waver and flickering. A frown creased her forehead as she tried to steady the spell. She moved her hands faster. But the more she tried to control it the more the magic resisted her.
The ritual was slipping from her grasp.
"What is going on right now?"
A sudden surge of energy coursed through the glade, causing the trees to shudder and the ground to tremble beneath her. Freya gritted her teeth. She fighting to maintain control but the power she was dealing with was far greater than she had anticipated.
She knew that if she failed now the consequences would be dire.
With a desperate effort Freya poured all of her strength into the spell, willing it to stabilize. The runes on the altar flared one last time. But then… It dimmed, their light fading. The trembling of the earth ceased and the trees stilled.
An eerie silence settled over the glade. It brought a wave of unease crashing over her.
She felt it too late—the presence of something malevolent lurking nearby. Before she could fully register the danger a rustling sound erupted from the forest behind her. Freya's eyes widened in shock as she spun around, her senses belatedly alerting her of the threat.
A dozen monstrous creatures had materialized from the shadows. Their eyes glowed with green light and their mouths were filled with rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Their bodies, hunched and sinewy, their movements unnervingly silent despite their size. The creatures were almost upon her, and she didn't realized where they coming.
Freya's heart raced. How had they gotten so close without her sensing them? It was impossible!
Unless someone, or something, had tampered with her senses. The realization struck her like a blow. Whoever had sent these creatures had masked their approach, leaving her vulnerable at the worst possible moment.
She didn't have time to ponder rightt now. The monsters were too close. The glint of malice in their eyes told her they had only one purpose: to kill.
Freya reached for her weapon—a gleaming sword.
As her fingers closed around the golden hilt, Freya felt the familiar surge of power flow through her. She tightened her grip and faced the oncoming horde. The creatures were nearly upon her, their claws outstretched, ready to tear her apart.
The monsters surged forward with terrifying speed. As they closed in on Freya she noticed something strange—an unnatural chill in the air.
Freya's breath misted in the air, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. The cold start to sapping her strength.
The first creature lunged, its claws slashing at her. Freya sidestepped the attack. She spun on her heel, bringing her sword down in a vicious arc. The blade met the creature's flesh and for a moment, the cold seemed to resist the sword's edge. But then the sword cut through, cleaving the monster in two.
But there was no time to celebrate the kill. Two more monsters were already upon her. They attacked in unison, their claws swiping at her from both sides.
Freya ducked low and rolled to the side. She came up in a crouch, her sword flashing as she deflected another blow. The impact sent a jolt of cold through her arm but she pushed the pain aside and countered with a swift upward slash.
Her sword cut through the next creature's leg, severing it cleanly. The monster stumbling back as black ichor spilled from the wound but it didn't stop. Even maimed it continued to attack. Freya's eyes narrowed. These creatures were relentless, driven by a singular, savage purpose.
As the injured monster came at her again, she ducked under its flailing arm and thrust upward, driving the blade through its chest. The creature stiffened, its glowing eyes flickering before it died.
The other monster had used the distraction to close the gap. Freya barely had time to react as it lunged at her.
The cold suddenly become overwhelming now. Her movement felt sluggish as if the freezing aura of the monsters was leeching the warmth and vitality from her body. But Freya fought through the cold, her jaw set in determination.
She pivoted on her heel avoiding the creature's bite, and brought her sword down in a powerful overhead strike.
The blade met the creature's neck, severing its head with a single, clean blow. The monster's body crumpled to the ground.
More creatures were emerging from the shadows, their eyes glowing with that same eerie, cold light. Freya's breath came in ragged gasps. She could feel her strength waning, the relentless chill threatening to overwhelm her and she had used her energy to perform the ritual before.
As the remaining monsters charged at her, Freya let out a fierce battle cry and met them head-on. Her blade of her sword flashing as it cut through the flesh of her enemies. She danced through the battle with heart ablaze with determination, not just to survive but to kill all of these abominations.
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