Chapter 911: An unusual return
Asgard’s new training hall was isolated from the rest of the city, built on high ground near the ancient northern walls. Morgana had chosen that location specifically because any other urban spot risked simply not surviving Strax’s training. After the last few months, everyone in Asgard had learned the hard way that monstrous abilities and ordinary structures rarely coexisted for long.
The building itself looked less like a training center and more like a fortress built to withstand continuous natural disaster. The walls were made of black stone reinforced with thick metal plates and magical runes engraved directly into the internal structures. Gigantic columns supported the arched ceiling dozens of meters above the main arena, while industrial mechanisms constantly circulated heat through the walls to prevent excessive freezing during training involving Black Ice.
Even so, several signs of destruction were already visible.
Parts of the floor were cracked. Some metal plates had partially melted. Certain areas of the walls displayed deep cuts, likely caused by sword blows or concentrated mana explosions. In several places, runes glowed faintly, attempting to repair minor structural damage before the entire building began to crumble.
Morgana clearly built that place expecting the worst.
And honestly, it was a smart decision.
In the center of the main arena, Strax stood alone.
The air around him oscillated erratically as two completely opposing forces slowly distorted the environment. Dark fragments of ice floated close to the ground, spreading enough cold to partially freeze the arena’s metallic surface. At the same time, small white flames appeared between his fingers and continuously disappeared, burning the surrounding space with monstrous heat too intense to be considered normal.
The two energies did not coexist naturally.
That was evident.
The Black Ice emanated silent, heavy, and suffocating destruction. Everything around seemed to slow down when that energy arose. The air became denser. The cold penetrated too deeply. Even sound seemed to diminish partially.
The White Fire was the opposite. Violent.
Unstable.
Voracious.
The white flames consumed mana, matter, and even magical resistance with absurd aggression. Even contained, they already caused small distortions to appear in the space near Strax’s hands.
And yet, he tried to unite the two.
His expression remained serious as he kept his eyes closed in the center of the arena. The control required for this was absurd even for someone like him. Small threads of mana slowly ran down his arms as the Black Ice began to partially envelop the white flames in an extremely delicate attempt at stabilization.
The immediate result was disastrous.
The energy exploded violently a few seconds later.
A brutal shockwave swept across the entire arena as white fire and black ice clashed chaotically. The ground cracked beneath Strax’s feet, and part of the side wall froze completely before exploding due to the extreme heat of the flames.
Even so, he didn’t move.
He just slowly exhaled through his nose.
Then he started again.
It had been months since he last seriously used Black Ice. Since arriving on that continent, his priority had almost always been direct physical combat. Sword. Brute force. Speed. The constant wars against the monarchs had practically turned him into a melee predator.
Now, however, he was finally beginning to realize something important.
He had accumulated too many skills throughout his life to simply ignore them like that.
Black Ice still existed.
White Fire too.
Besides the dozens of other monstrous abilities he rarely used.
If the problem involving Ouroboros was really as serious as it seemed... then maybe he needed to stop fighting only as a swordsman.
The air began to waver dangerously again as Strax tried again.
This time Black Ice partially enveloped the white flames without exploding immediately. The two energies began to slowly swirl between his hands, producing an extremely abnormal distortion in the environment. Black vapor surged into the air as the ground beneath him simultaneously began to freeze and melt.
The process was still unstable.
But it was getting better.
Then he heard footsteps.
Strax didn’t open his eyes immediately. He merely kept the flow of mana partially stabilized while speaking calmly:
"You’ve been gone for too long."
The footsteps ceased a few meters behind him.
Then came the soft sound of someone kneeling respectfully.
"I’m sorry, master," a low, controlled female voice replied. "It took longer than I expected."
Strax finally opened his eyes.
The white flames slowly faded around his hands as he calmly turned around.
Then he saw Lithara.
She remained kneeling near the arena entrance with her usual impeccably elegant posture. Her long red hair cascaded like liquid fire over her shoulders and down her back, gleaming intensely against the cold lighting of the hall. The strands possessed an almost hypnotic movement, as if tiny invisible currents kept them constantly undulating.
Her golden eyes remained the same.
Intelligent.
Dangerous.
Calculating.
But now there was something different there too.
Satisfaction.
Lithara wore an extremely form-fitting black dress, made of a shimmering dark fabric that seemed to partially absorb the surrounding light. Translucent lace panels covered her arms, while red jewels encrusted in the dress reflected small ruby glints as she moved. The deep neckline and side slit of the garment made it absurdly difficult to believe that it could even be considered a minimally functional outfit.
She looked more like a demon queen seated on an ancient throne than someone who had spent months working in the shadows.
And honestly, it suited her perfectly.
Strax watched her for a few seconds before finally smiling slightly.
"I hope you succeeded."
Lithara slowly raised her face.
Then she smiled too.
A small smile.
Controlled.
But dangerously satisfied.
"It was exactly as I planned."
Strax remained watching her silently as she walked slowly through the destroyed arena. Small frozen fragments shattered under his steps as he approached.
Lithara stood calmly soon after.
Even after so much time, her presence still carried that uncomfortable feeling of silent manipulation. Everything about her seemed carefully calculated. The way she spoke. The way she smiled. The way she observed others.
She was dangerous in a different way than the others.
Less explosive.
Much more patient.
"Have you regained your powers?" Strax asked calmly.
"Have you regained your powers?" Strax asked calmly as he continued to observe Lithara in the center of the destroyed arena.
She didn’t answer immediately.
She only slowly raised her golden eyes to him as a small smile appeared at the corner of her lips. Then, without any hurry, Lithara released part of her own aura.
The effect was instantaneous.
The air in the entire arena seemed to suddenly sink under an overwhelming pressure, too ancient to be considered natural. The runes scattered across the walls began to glow violently in an automatic attempt to stabilize the environment, while the metallic floor beneath them produced small crackling sounds due to the accumulated magical pressure.
The temperature changed. It didn’t get cold.
Nor hot.
The atmosphere simply acquired that unsettling feeling that arose near truly ancient predators. A presence heavy enough to make ordinary creatures lose their instinct to react.
Red mana began to slowly surge around Lithara’s body like liquid smoke. Her ruby hair rippled even more intensely as her golden eyes gleamed with a ferocity far more ancient than human.
For a few seconds, the woman before him ceased to seem merely elegant.
She seemed dangerous again.
Very dangerous.
Strax remained completely still, watching that monstrous pressure slowly fill the training hall. Then a small, tired smile appeared on his face.
"Nostalgic," he commented calmly.
Lithara tilted her head slightly as the aura continued to fill the room.
"The last time I felt this power," Strax continued, "was in that castle."
Her eyes narrowed discreetly, like someone revisiting memories too old to completely fade. The magical pressure continued to slowly increase around her before finally stabilizing.
"Back then," Lithara replied in a controlled tone, "you couldn’t even assume dragon form."
That elicited a small laugh from him.
Because it was true.
When they met, Strax was still absurdly far from the monstrous creature he had become now. At that time, he was still struggling to control his own existence. His draconic transformation was unstable, incomplete, and extremely limited.
And Lithara...
Lithara was a walking disaster back then.
An arrogant, monstrous entity, practically impossible to control.
Strax slowly crossed his arms as he observed her.
"You were too arrogant."
Her smile faded slightly.
"I still am."
"Not even close to what I used to be."
Lithara grimaced slightly at that, clearly displeased with the remark. This only made Strax’s smile widen slightly.
"You really believed you could destroy everything in that castle."
"I probably could."
"Until I sealed you inside me."
This time her grimace was much more evident.
Lithara partially looked away, letting out a small, irritated sigh. Even after all this time, she clearly still hated remembering that specific part of the story.
And honestly, Strax understood.
The whole process had been brutal.
During that time, Lithara was sealed by the [System].
"Honestly," he began calmly, "when I freed you... I didn’t expect you to come back."
Lithara raised her eyes again.
"Much less," he continued, "that you would start calling me master." The silence lasted for a few seconds.
The monstrous aura surrounding her slowly weakened until it almost completely disappeared, leaving only a slight residual pressure in the air.
Then Lithara answered.
"I thought about not coming back."
The sincerity of her response made Strax remain quiet.
She walked slowly across the arena while continuing to speak in a much lower tone than before.
"After I regained my freedom... I considered simply disappearing."
Her long red hair slowly slid behind her body as she advanced across the partially destroyed ground.
"It would be easy," Lithara continued. "I had enough power again. I could rebuild territory, influence... maybe even reclaim old domains."
Strax listened in silence.
Because again, it made sense.
Lithara was never someone naturally inclined to submission. Pride was practically part of her essence. A creature of that level would hardly accept serving someone without a real reason.
She then stopped a few meters in front of him.
But this time there was something different in her expression.
Less arrogance.
More honesty.
"But that would be dishonorable."
Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.
Lithara held his gaze without hesitation as she continued:
"To bite the hand that fed me after all..." She closed her eyes briefly. "...would be despicable even by my standards."
The hall fell silent again.
Outside, the distant sound of Asgard’s industrial machines continued to faintly echo through the building’s metal structures.
Strax watched her for a few seconds before finally smiling genuinely this time.
A small smile.
But genuinely satisfied.
"It’s good to see you’ve reflected."
Lithara let out a small, low laugh at that.
"Don’t talk like I’ve become a good person."
"You definitely haven’t."
"Great."
Her smile partially returned soon after.
But now there was less theatricality in that gesture. Less provocation. Less exaggerated arrogance.
She really seemed different.
Still dangerous, obviously.
Still manipulative.
Still absurdly intelligent.
But more stable.
Perhaps even... more human.
Even though she probably hated hearing that word.
Strax then slowly returned to the center of the arena as small white flames reappeared around his hands.
"So everything went as planned?"
Lithara nodded as she watched him resume training.
"Better than I imagined."
