Marvel: Breezing Through History as an Eternal

Chapter 73: Dragonslayer, 960 CE

On a cold winter evening, a man with a large stature was crouching in a hole. His breath made white mist, but he tried to hide the mist. He covered his mouth and nose, trying to limit his breath.

He heard a sound from outside his hole, a deep growling sound as the ground shook. It came from a creature, a rather gigantic one. As the creature stepped on the dry leaves on the ground, the man would be able to tell where the creature was. He followed the sound as it got closer and closer to the hole. He grabbed his trusty sword tightly, preparing to strike. 

The creature then walked over the hole, and the man struck from below using his sword, stabbing the creature on its shoulder.

The creature screeched in pain as the man moved the sword back and forth, making more and more damage to the body of the creature. The creature tried to attack the man, spewing venom and acid from its mouth to no avail, as its head cannot reach its shoulder.

“Just die you dragon!” cursed the man. The dragon was bleeding profusely, strange blood was coming out of its shoulder.

The dragon knew that it was about to die as it bled more and more, but it kept fighting, trying to attack the man.

Eventually, the dragon hit the man. Acid burned his body as the venom sipped into his system. The man groaned in pain, as the dragon died of blood loss.

The man then gathered all of his strength to pull his sword from the body of the dragon. He started to lose vision as the venom kicked in. He sat against the corpse of the dragon, he rested his head on his sword, and tried to stay awake.

Eventually, he heard a rustling sound from nearby. He looked around frantically, but he could barely see anything.

“Who’s there!” he shouted.

There was no answer.

He was vigilant at all times, but eventually, he couldn’t bear it anymore. He needed to rest, his brain screams that he should close his eyes, but his heart tells a different story.

Eventually, he started to lose consciousness, but before he passed out, he saw a couple of silhouettes walking towards him, he wanted to say to stay away, but he had no energy left.

And so, he passed out, knowing that it would probably be the last thing he remembered before coming to Valhalla.

—

A couple of hours later, the man woke up frantically. He looked around, and saw a camp of sorts. People were sitting in front of a campfire, he saw men with dark skin, which was rare around the area, they were dressed strangely, signalling that they are probably from afar.

“You’re awake.” someone said behind him, making him jump from surprise. He looked at who it was, and saw that it was a middle aged woman with brown skin, looking at him with a smile.

He then stuttered. “I- I’m alive…”

“Yeah, you are.” said the woman. “You’re lucky that you met us.”

“B-But… I saw Valhalla…” he murmured to himself. “Who are you to deny me Valhalla?”

“We saved you.” suddenly said a man with a large stature, probably bigger than him. “You should be grateful.”

The large man then offered him a bowl of soup. It smells delicious. The man could feel that he was famished, so he took the bowl, and quickly ate it.

As he was finished, he put the bowl down, and made himself comfortable.

“What’s your name?” questioned a man with violet eyes.

He stared at the man, before answering roughly. “Sigurd.”

The man with violet eyes hummed. “You lucky you survived,” he said. “Actually, no, how did you kill it?”

“Kill what?”

“The deviant.”

“Deviant? You mean the dragon fafnir?”

“Yes. I guess you can call it a dragon.”

“I killed it with a sword,” said Sigurd. “Wait, where’s my sword?” he frantically looked around, trying to find a sword.

“You mean this?” said the man with violet eyes, showing the sword. “Where did you get this?”

“Give me that.” growled Sigurd as he tried to grab the sword from the man with violet eyes.

The man with violet eyes dodged him, and kicked him in the stomach. “Answer me first, then I’ll give it to you.”

“Pluto, stop, you’re hurting him.” said another woman with green clothing.

Pluto ignored her, and stared at Sigurd who was lying on the ground.

“Give it to me!” roared Sigurd.

“No.” said Pluto coldly, stopping Sigurd from standing. “Tell. me. First.”

Sigurd relented, he finally stopped fighting, and said. “Odin gave me that.”

“Odin?” said Pluto with raised eyebrows.

“The All-Father.” continued Sigurd. “One day, I met him, he said he would give me that sword if I pull it out of a tree. I did it, and now it’s mine.”

“Odin huh…” murmured Pluto. He examined the sword. It was no ordinary sword… a sword that could kill a deviant, it must be special.

“Phastos, you know this metal?” Pluto questioned a man that has dark skin.

On one look, Phastos was able to know it. “Asgardian Metal. Uru.”

Pluto hummed. He looked at it a bit more, before stabbing it on the ground, giving it back to Sigurd. “That’s a precious metal you have there. Don’t lose it.”

Sigurd just scoffed, and put the sword back to its scabbard. Pluto helped him get up, and he sat on the log in front of the campfire.

“Who are you people? You’re not exactly from around here.” questioned Sigurd.

“We’re from the south,” said the middle-aged woman.

“But you speak our language.”

“We learned a bit from travels.” answered the woman. “Where are you from, Sigurd?”

“From a town near here. King Hreiðmarr’s land.”

The woman hummed. “Well, Sigurd. You should rest, we will be going tomorrow morning, we won’t be going to your town, so tomorrow, we’ll part ways.”

Sigurd nodded. “Very well. Thank you I guess… for saving me.”

“Remember, keep that bloody sword well.” Pluto commented suddenly. “It’s precious metal, if you’re not using it, give it to me.”

Sigurd frowned, and scoffed. “Not going to happen.”