Chapter 42: Breaking Point
The collision sent shockwaves through the frozen corridor like a thunderclap. Brick's war hammer rebounded off Vali's frost-covered axe, the impact violent enough to shatter icicles hanging from the ceiling. They crashed down like crystalline daggers, exploding against the floor in glittering fragments as the Nordic runes hummed in response.
Brick's arms screamed in agony. Each bone-jarring impact felt like striking an immovable glacier, and his battle rage—once a roaring inferno—had dimmed to dying embers. Blood seeped from his knuckles where the hammer's grip had torn his skin raw from gripping the hilt for his life.
"Is that all the son of a god of war can muster?" Vali's voice cut through the chaos, maddeningly calm. His massive frame showed no fatigue, while frost pulsed from his runic tattoos like a heartbeat of winter itself.
Brick could tell he was struggling, letting out a powerful roar as he channelled his remaining strength into a devastating overhead strike. The hammer screamed through the air—but Vali flowed aside like liquid mercury. His axe whipped around in a vicious counter, the frost-laden blade missing Brick's ribs by a hair's breadth and carving ice crystals into his armor, with Brick somehow managing to avoid the blow.
Behind Vali, Naia exploded forward. Her trident thrust toward his exposed spine with deadly precision, hoping to take him while his focus was on Brick.
Without even looking, Vali's free hand snapped up. Ice erupted from the floor in a violent geyser, stopping Naia's weapon in its tracks before another column of ice shot out hitting her hard. Stars exploding across her vision as she crumpled to the treacherous ice, getting knocked down from the blow.
"Naia!" Brick lunged forward, but his feet betrayed him on the frozen surface. He crashed to one knee, gasping as he could feel the cold around him steal his breath away.
The daughter of Poseidon struggled to rise, her legs trembling violently. Fighting on this cursed ice had drained her. Worse, her water powers felt severed, as if Vali's very presence was strangling her divine heritage. Each attempt to manipulate moisture required monumental effort for pathetic results.
"You're both running on empty," Vali observed, advancing with predatory grace. "Yet you persist. There's something almost touching about such futile desperation."
Brick's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Sweat had crystallized on his brow, and his muscles felt like molten lead. This wasn't just exhaustion—it was the crushing realization that they were hopelessly outmatched. The corridor seemed to grow smaller around them, the ice-covered walls closing in like the jaws of some frozen beast.
Naia circled on unsteady legs, her trident wavering. The cold had invaded her bones, making every movement feel like moving through quicksand. Her connection to water grew more tenuous by the second. Time was slipping away with each labored breath.
"Naia," Brick gasped, blood speckling his lips. "When I give the signal, give it everything you've got."
She nodded grimly. They both knew this might be their final gambit. The weight of that knowledge settled between them like a shroud.
Then something primal awakened within Brick. The pain, the exhaustion, the mounting damage—it all fed into something ancient and terrible. His father's gift wasn't just rage. It was becoming more lethal the closer death came.
Brick's skin began to glow crimson, pulsing with his thundering heartbeat. The battle rage wasn't just surging, it was transforming him. Each bruise became fuel, each laboured breath stoking the inferno. His eyes blazed like twin coals, steam rising from his body as internal heat warred against the freezing air.
"Now you see it," Brick growled, his voice deeper, more resonant. "The true gift of my father. Pain makes me stronger."
For the first time, Vali's composure cracked. His eyebrows rose, and he took an almost imperceptible step back. His grip shifted from offensive to defensive. Something had changed in the air—a shift that made even the Norse demigod wary, daring to still face it head on.
Brick's skin began to glow with a deep, crimson light that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. The battle rage wasn't just surging through him anymore—it was transforming him. Each bruise, each aching muscle, each labored breath only made the power burn brighter. His eyes blazed like twin coals, and steam rose from his body as his internal heat fought against the freezing air. "Now you see it," Brick growled, his voice deeper and more resonant than before. "The true gift of Ares. The more you hurt me, the stronger I become!"
Brick didn't charge, he exploded forward with supernatural velocity. His glowing hammer shrieked through the air like a meteor. Vali brought up his axe to block, but the collision sent shockwaves through the corridor. Vali slid backward across the ice, his boots carving deep furrows in the frozen floor. His perfect composure finally showed strain.
For a heartbeat, it seemed impossible. The unstoppable Vali was actually being driven back.
Brick pressed his advantage ruthlessly. His hammer became a crimson blur each strike more devastating than the last. Where before he'd fought with technique, now he was pure, primal fury incarnate.
An uppercut nearly tore Vali's axe from his grasp. The Norse demigod's eyes widened slightly—genuine surprise flickering across his features.
A horizontal swing slammed into Vali's ribs with bone-crushing force, eliciting his first grunt of pain. The sound echoed through the corridor like a crack in reality itself.
The follow-up drove Vali to one knee, chunks of ice cascading from the trembling walls. For the first time since the battle began, Vali looked... vulnerable.
Naia stared in stunned amazement. Brick's entire body radiated heat and power, the air around him shimmering like a mirage. This was the son of the god of war unleashed—not just a warrior, but war itself made flesh.
"Brick..." she whispered, hope flickering for the first time. Maybe they actually had a chance.
Brick's hammer caught Vali across the shoulder, spinning the massive Norse demigod around. Another strike hammered into his back before he could recover. The corridor shook with each thunderous impact, the labyrinth's very structure groaning under the unleashed fury.
Victory seemed within reach. So close they could taste it.
But then, impossibly, Vali began to laugh.
It started low, barely audible over Brick's relentless assault. But it grew, becoming a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo from the walls themselves. Even as another crushing blow struck his chest, Vali's laughter continued. The sound was wrong, too calm, too pleased.
"Magnificent," Vali said, straightening despite the punishment. His runic tattoos blazed brighter, matching Brick's crimson aura. "Finally, you show me something worthy."
Dread crept up Naia's spine. Something was terribly wrong. Vali wasn't just enduring the assault—he was enjoying it.
Brick swung for what should have been the killing blow, putting everything he had into one final devastating strike.
Vali's massive hand snapped out with lightning speed, closing around the hammer's handle just before impact. The weapon stopped dead, crimson energy crackling and sparking against his frost-covered palm.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Is that all..." Vali asked, his voice maddeningly calm despite the tremendous forces warring between them. His tattoos flared brilliant blue, frost racing up the hammer toward Brick's hands. "The son of a war god should offer more." He spoke, his tone low and menacing.
Naia's hope shattered like glass. Her mouth fell open, watching Vali effortlessly contain Brick's ultimate attack with one hand. He wasn't even straining—he looked genuinely disappointed.
"Impossible..." she breathed, the word barely a whisper.
All of Brick's incredible power, his transformation into living warfare, and Vali treated it like a mild inconvenience. The crushing truth settled over them like a burial shroud: they had never stood a chance. Not even close.
"How..." Naia muttered, feeling her legs go weak beneath her.
"It's over," Vali stated, advancing with measured steps. His axe left frost trails in the air, and with each footfall, the ice beneath grew thicker and more treacherous. "You fought with honor. If nothing else."
The walls seemed to close in around them. This was how it ended, not in glory, but in the slow, inevitable march of superior power.
Brick struggled upright, using the wall for support. Blood trickled from his mouth, his vision swimming with exhaustion. But the fire in his eyes burned undimmed, even in the face of certain death.
"Not... yet," he wheezed, raising his hammer one final time.
Naia stood beside him, trident wavering but ready. She was beyond exhaustion, running on pure determination and the knowledge that surrender meant death. Her hands shook so badly she could barely grip her weapon.
They would die here. But they would die fighting.
Vali raised his axe, frost swirling around the massive blade like a winter storm. His tattoos pulsed brilliant blue, and the temperature plummeted so far that their breath came in sharp clouds. The very air seemed to crystallize around them.
"So be it."
The axe began its deadly descent. Then the air itself seemed to ignite.
A torrent of flame thundered down the corridor, followed instantly by a crackling lightning bolt that split the air with deafening force. Fire and electricity converged on Vali in a spectacular display of elemental fury dancing together in perfect, destructive harmony.
Vali's eyes widened the first real crack in his composure. He abandoned his killing stroke, bringing his axe up defensively just as the combined assault struck with tremendous force. The impact drove him backward, and he slammed into the ice, sliding along the ground as steam and electricity crackled around him.
"Brick! Naia!" Damon's voice cut through the chaos as he emerged from the swirling steam, flames still dancing around his clenched fists. His eyes blazed with protective fury as he took in his friends' battered condition.
Beside him, Thalios stepped forward, electricity crackling between his fingers. For once, the son of Zeus wasn't brooding he was focused entirely on the threat before them, the grudge formed on Mount Olympus burning in his eyes.
Eudora rushed past both of them, her staff already glowing with healing energy as she knelt beside Brick and Naia. "Hold still," she whispered urgently, her hands moving in practiced patterns as warmth flowed into their battered bodies.
But even as relief flooded through them, a chill of a different kind settled in their hearts.
Vali rose slowly from the ice, his axe still smoking from the fire and lightning. His tattoos had dimmed only slightly, and though new wariness flickered in his cold eyes as he studied the five Greek demigods arrayed against him, he didn't look defeated.
He looked... intrigued.
"Interesting," Vali mused, his voice retaining that maddening calm despite the dramatic reversal. "The labyrinth brings us together after all. How... convenient."
The way he said it made Naia's blood run cold. As if this had all been part of some larger plan.
Damon stepped forward, placing himself between Vali and his injured friends. Flames danced around his fists, his expression grimmer than any of them had ever seen. "This ends now." He said, seeming to have a much colder demeaner about him since the last time they had seen him.
"I agree," Thalios snarled, electricity arcing between his fingers in dangerous patterns. "Let's kill this bastard."
The others stared in shock at his uncharacteristic agreement with Damon. The situation had to be desperate indeed.
"What happened to them since last time..." Naia asked, looking at Brick who simpky shrugged his shoulders.
Vali smiled then a slow, predatory expression that made the temperature plummet even further. His muscles tensed with anticipation, and the excitement in his eyes was unmistakable. This wasn't fear or concern.
This was what he'd been waiting for.
"Very well!" Vali roared, letting the cold around him explode outward in a wave of frost that made their previous battles seem like child's play. "Let the real battle begin!"
The Greek demigods braced themselves, ice crystals forming on their skin and weapons. Whatever had come before, they realized with growing horror, Vali had been holding back.
And now the gloves were coming off.