It was Minerva.
She did not use any energy weapons, nor did she even activate the special equipment from the 'Flower Contract'. Relying solely on her bionic physical capabilities that transcended the limits of mortal beings, she crossed several meters in less than a tenth of a second. Her fist, wrapped in a black tactical glove, carried a low whistle that tore through the air as it struck directly at Loki's face! Simple, brutal, efficient.
A flash of surprise crossed Loki's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by indignation at being offended. A mortal from Earth, daring to take the initiative to attack him, the Prince of Asgard? He sneered, neither dodging nor evading. He maintained his shield with his left hand while raising his right hand casually, magic surging at his fingertips. He intended to teach this silver-haired woman who didn't know the immensity of heaven and Earth a profound lesson—perhaps a paralysis spell, or maybe a small burst of freezing magic.
However, before his magic could fully form, Minerva's fist had already smashed heavily into his hastily raised right arm.
'Crack!' A clear, teeth-gritting sound of bone breaking rang out.
'Ugh!' Caught off guard, Loki let out a muffled grunt. Intense pain shot through his right arm, and his magic instantly dissipated. For the first time, genuine astonishment appeared in his eyes. This strength... how could it be? The impact from the fist of a seemingly slender woman was actually comparable to that of the most elite warriors of the Heavenly Palace?! No, even stronger! His magic shield hadn't been able to completely neutralize this pure physical impact?
Minerva's attack did not pause. Having landed the punch, she used the recoil to pivot slightly, her left leg sweeping out like a steel whip, carrying terrifying kinetic energy toward Loki's waist and abdomen. Loki, enduring the pain, retreated rapidly. At the same time, his left hand traced quickly, and a dark green energy barrier condensed in front of him.
'Boom!' Minerva's leg whip lashed heavily against the energy barrier. The barrier shook violently, its light flickering, and spiderweb-like cracks actually appeared! Although it didn't shatter, the immense force still transmitted through the barrier, causing Loki's blood to churn. He stumbled back repeatedly, smashing through the wooden fence of the backyard, looking quite disheveled.
'You... what are you?!' Loki was both shocked and angry, his ice-green eyes staring fixedly at Minerva, who had stabilized her stance, assumed a standard fighting posture, and had terrifyingly calm eyes. This was definitely not a normal human! When did Earth start having monsters like this?
Minerva did not answer. Her directive was defense and expulsion, not conversation. The moment she confirmed that Loki had temporarily lost his balance, she launched again, even faster than before! Her figure left a blurry afterimage in the night. Her hands formed claws, reaching for Loki's shoulder joints—a standard grappling technique, but one containing enough power to crush steel.
Loki finally put away all his contempt and mockery. The painful arm and the two impacts just now made him realize that the silver-haired woman before him was an extremely dangerous close-combat unit. He excelled in illusions, magic, and trickery, not this kind of savage, head-on melee combat.
'Annoying bug!' He hissed, his figure suddenly becoming blurry, swaying like a reflection in water—a high-level illusion, Mirror Image. Several indistinguishable phantoms were left in place, while his real body attempted to create distance to cast more powerful control or attack magic.
However, Minerva's optical sensor had long since locked onto his biological thermal signature and energy core fluctuations. Illusions were ineffective against her. Without a moment's hesitation, she precisely pierced through the shadow on the far left that seemed illusory—that was exactly where Loki's real body was!
'What?!' Loki was shocked. His illusion had been seen through instantly? In his haste, he could only condense magic again, laying down layers of ice crystal shields in front of him.
'Bang! Bang! Bang! Crack! Crack!' Minerva's fists, elbows, knees, and legs turned into a violent metal storm, bombarding the layers of ice shields with dizzying speed and precision. Ice shards flew everywhere, and the shields collapsed at an astonishing rate. Loki could only keep retreating, casting spells, retreating again, and casting again, completely falling into a passive state of taking a beating. His magic, which he took pride in, was unable to be unleashed in the face of Minerva's unreasonable speed, strength, and near-precognitive combat intuition! Every spell casting start-up could be met with a fatal interruption.
In the small space of the backyard, the muffled thuds and shattering sounds were endless. Loki's magnificent robes were torn in several places, and his face had also taken a grazing blow from a fist, stinging with pain. He was shocked and angry, mixed with an unbelievable sense of frustration. He, Loki, Son of Odin, God of Mischief, was actually being beaten so disheveledly by a silver-haired woman of unknown origin in the backyard of a remote town on Earth, using pure physical attacks?
This couldn't continue! A fierce glint flashed in Loki's eyes, and he decided to use some more 'interesting' means. He endured a side kick from Minerva, taking the opportunity to quickly chant a short spell. A ball of dark energy that seemed to absorb all light condensed in his hand—Shadow Annihilation Bomb, a sinister spell capable of eroding matter and energy.
However, just as he was about to throw the shadow bomb—
'Minerva, retreat.' A calm female voice, carrying an unquestionable tone, came from behind the broken window.
It was Artoria. She was already standing by the window, draped in a simple beige cardigan. Her long golden hair was still a bit damp, and her emerald eyes were clear and calm in the night. She didn't look at the disheveled Loki, only at Minerva.
Hearing this, Minerva did not hesitate. The violent attack stopped instantly. Her figure paused as if a pause button had been pressed, then she leaped back lightly, landing on the open ground in front of Artoria. She maintained her guard stance, optical sensor locked on Loki, but no longer initiating attacks.
Loki panted, the hand holding the shadow bomb pausing slightly, his gaze casting suspiciously toward Artoria behind the window. This was the girl... She had caused the anomaly with mjolnir during the day, and now she could command this terrifying silver-haired combat doll... Who exactly was she?
Artoria's gaze then slowly fell on Loki, calmly examining him. The God of Mischief was indeed disheveled at this moment, his robes damaged, his hair slightly messy, and his face bearing abrasions and a trace of shock and anger that he couldn't fully mask. But there was no mockery or triumph in her eyes, only a kind of insightful understanding.
'Loki Laufeyson,' she called his name directly. Her voice was not loud, but it made Loki's heart sink suddenly. 'Son of Odin, brother of Thor, God of Mischief and Illusion.'
Loki's ice-green pupils shrank suddenly. She not only knew his identity but also his divine position!
'You deceived Thor, claiming Odin was dying, inducing him to try lifting the hammer again to deepen his despair. This is your usual trick, intended to destroy his sanity and consolidate your own position.' Artoria's words were flat, yet every word struck at his heart, exposing his recent actions. 'However, Odin has already made arrangements for Thor's trial. Your scheming only adds variables and may not go as you wish.'
Loki's expression shifted. The initial shock and anger were gradually replaced by a deeper coldness and inquiry. He dissipated the shadow bomb in his hand and straightened his damaged robe sleeve. Although his posture was a bit strained, the demeanor of the God of Mischief seemed to return to him.
'Interesting mortal... no, perhaps I shouldn't call you a mortal.' Loki's voice returned to that slick elegance, carrying a hint of playfulness. 'You know a lot. About Asgard, about us brothers, and even... about me. You approached mjolnir during the day, causing ripples in the rules that even I hadn't triggered... Who exactly are you?'
'A passing Traveler.' Artoria's answer was concise and vague. 'I have no intention of interfering in Asgard's family affairs, but I am concerned about the peace of this place. Your lies have already caused harm to Thor. If you try to drag this place into your conspiracies again, or harm innocent people...' She glanced at Minerva, who stood still like a statue beside her but exuded an awe-inspiring, inviolable aura, '...my companion will not sit idly by.'
A threat, clear and direct.
Loki laughed, the laughter sounding somewhat eerie in the silent night: 'Threatening me? With just her?' He glanced at Minerva. Although he had suffered a loss just now, his mouth remained unyielding. 'A nice toy. Her strength and speed are indeed beyond expectations. But how can the means of a god be measured by brute force?'
'You can try.' Artoria remained unmoved, her tone still flat. 'But next time, the instruction she receives might not be 'expel'.'
Their eyes met. On one side was the God of Mischief who had just arrived on Earth, harboring ulterior motives, yet having suffered a setback; on the other was the otherworldly Traveler with a mysterious identity, unfathomable power, and a clear attitude. The air seemed to freeze, and the broken wood chips and ice crystals in the backyard rolled slightly in the night wind.
For a long time, the smile on Loki's face gradually faded. He looked deeply at Artoria, then glanced at the battle-ready Minerva, light flowing in his ice-green eyes, wondering what he was calculating. Finally, he chuckled, and his figure began to slowly become transparent and thin.
'An interesting meeting, mysterious Miss Traveler.' His voice seemed to drift from afar. 'We... will meet again. I hope next time, you can bring me more... surprises.'
As his words fell, his figure completely dissipated into the night, leaving only the mess in the backyard and the faint, lingering aura of magic in the air.
Minerva walked to Artoria's side and whispered: 'Target has retreated. Biological signal lost. Shall I track?'
'No need.' Artoria shook her head. 'He suffered a loss; he should be cautious for a short time. Our goal has been achieved—letting him know this is not a place he can manipulate at will. Monitor carefully and guard against other tricks.'
'Understood.'
Artoria looked in the direction where Loki disappeared and sighed softly. Loki's appearance meant that the storm of Asgard had officially reached the edge of Earth. And she and Minerva had inevitably stood on the observation deck of this storm, or even... were about to become one of the forces that could not be ignored.
The night deepened, and the town returned to tranquility, as if the short and intense confrontation had never happened. But something had already changed quietly.
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