King Of Limbo



Seated beneath the sheltering tree, Aron and Rose reveled in the tranquility of their brief respite. The distant sounds of laughter and music had been replaced by a sense of calm, allowing them to delve deeper into their thoughts and desires.

Just as they were beginning to find solace in each other's presence, a faint noise caught their attention. Panicked voices and hurried footsteps echoed from the direction of the central dwelling. Aron and Rose exchanged a glance, their curiosity piqued.

Before they could comment on the commotion, a deafening horn resounded through the air, followed by a cry that shattered the peace. "Enemy attack!"

Rose let out a weary sigh as she rose to her feet, her graceful movements indicative of both disappointment and acceptance. She looked down at Aron, her gaze softening. "Our moment of rest was indeed brief, but I appreciated its tranquility," she confessed.

Aron stood up next, his towering figure nearly matching the height of the tree they had sought solace under. His eyes met Rose's, filled with a sort of unwavering chill. "One day, we will both find the answers we seek," he assured her.

With those words hanging in the air, Aron and Rose set off towards the central dwelling, their steps quickening in response to the urgency of the situation. As they approached, chaos unfolded before their eyes.

Figures clad in faded plated armor emerged from every direction, launching fierce attacks on the settlement. Their imposing presence matched that of the Koliean beast mongers, but their fighting style incorporated not only brute strength but also powerful weapons and magic.

The scene was one of sheer pandemonium. Buildings crumbled under the force of explosions, while Koliean warriors fought valiantly to protect their home. Amidst the chaos, two figures stood out among the attackers, their armor adorned with broad wings and wielding massive maces.

One of the armored figures was slimmer and of average Koliean height, yet his movements exuded a deadly precision. The other, however, stood at a towering height even greater than that of Harald. With every swing of his mace, the ground trembled, creating shockwaves that further intensified the chaos.

Harald, witnessing the devastation unfolding, growled in anger. His mana fluctuations spread across the settlement, a powerful display of his determination to protect those he cared for. "Protect the children!" he ordered his three partners, his voice resonating with authority.

Astrid, fiercely protective, refused without hesitation. "I can fight," she argued, her eyes burning with a desire to fight. "Our daughter Eira can as well."

Harald's expression softened for a moment, but he remained resolute. "No, Astrid. You must ensure Eira's safety, she isn't ready," he insisted, his voice carrying a mix of concern and conviction.

Astrid's lips tightened into a thin line, but she reluctantly nodded, acknowledging the truth in Harald's words.

Just as Astrid and the rest of Harald's partners prepared to leave, their focus on protecting the children, one of the winged figures swooped down with his mace ready to strike. It was the slimmer one, a younger-looking warrior whose sinister smile sent chills down the spines of those who crossed his path.

Freya, her eyes widening with alarm, shouted, "Harald!", while shielding her two young twins from harm. But before the winged figure could reach them, a powerful force crashed into his shoulder, bringing his attack to a sudden halt. It was Aron, his expression firm as he stood between the enemy and Harald's group.

Unfazed by the chaos that continued to unfold around them, Aron turned to his father, his gaze steady. "Who are they?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. Harald, amazed by his son's display of strength, hesitated for a moment, contemplating his response.

Before Harald could answer, a battered and injured figure came hurtling through the air, crashing into a nearby tree. It was Jagu, his body bruised and broken from the ongoing battle. Aron's eyes darted to his fallen comrade, his brows furrowing as he saw his beaten state.

Jin rushed to Jagu's side, quickly trying to get him up. Aron, aware of their limited capacity to fight in their weakened state, looked at them and spoke with a calm tone. "Focus on protecting yourselves," he commanded, a sense of authority in his words.

Just as the duo was about to leave, a raucous roar of laughter reverberated through the air. From the direction Jagu had been thrown, the larger winged figure emerged, his gaze fixated on Harald. Mockery dripped from his words as he taunted, "You've grown soft, Jor Harald. To accept such weaklings in your settlement..."

The figure's voice trailed off as he noticed his younger companion struggling to stand, clutching his injured shoulder. Concern flashed across his face as he approached him. "Boy, are you okay?" he inquired. With a deadly gaze, the young winged figure nodded, his eyes fixed on Aron. "I'll be fine once I have his head, father," he replied, his voice carrying heavy anger.

Aron met the figure's deadly gaze with a mocking grin of his own. "I'd like to see you try," he retorted, his voice filled with complete confidence and a hint of challenge.

The figure known as Gragnar bristled with offense at Aron's words, his grip tightening around his weapon. He lunged forward, ready to attack, but his father, with a swift movement, blocked his path with his massive mace. A wicked smile spread across the father's face as he locked eyes with Aron.

"You underestimate him, my son," the father taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. "He isn't your opponent." He turned his gaze to Harald, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Tell me, Jor Harald, where did you find such a good seed?"

Harald's fiery gaze met the larger figure, his fury unabated. He stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Aron. "He is my son," Harald declared, his voice resolute.

Mingar, the towering figure, let out a sinister laugh, relishing in the newfound knowledge. "Oh, how delightful," he sneered. "Killing you will be so much more satisfying now."

Before Harald could respond, Aron unleashed a mighty strike, channeling his strength into a single powerful blow. His fist tore through the air with incredible force, trailing an ethereal glow as it neared Mingar. The impact sent the larger figure skidding backward, though he remained standing tall.

Aron observed his hand, his knuckles displaying the bones beneath the skin, accompanied by a misty smoke emanating from them. He didn't seem bothered by the sight, shaking off the pain as if it were an inconsequential detail. His gaze locked onto Mingar once again, his determination unyielding.

Harald, however, swiftly intervened, stepping between Aron and Mingar. His voice carried a mix of concern and authority. "Mingar isn't your opponent," he stated firmly, his eyes searching Aron's for understanding. "To defeat him would come at great cost to yourself."

Aron glanced over Mingar, sizing up the immense strength radiating from him. He didn't argue, recognizing the truth in his father's words. Instead, a determined glint flickered in his grey eyes. "I will handle the weak ones, then," Aron proclaimed, his voice laced with sureness.

Harald smiled, a sense of pride gleaming in his eyes. He nodded approvingly. "Just like old times," he acknowledged, memories of battles fought side by side flooding his thoughts.

Aron didn't dwell on those words. Without hesitation, he turned his attention to Gragnar, who seethed with anger and eagerness to prove himself.

Aron's swift evasion left Gragnar off balance, his mace swinging through empty air. Aron capitalized on the opening, his movements fluid and precise. With a calculated strike, he landed a powerful blow on Gragnar's abdomen, propelling him through the air and crashing into a nearby structure. The impact sent debris flying, adding to the chaos that engulfed the settlement.

As Aron turned his attention back to his father, a faint chuckle echoed from the towering figure of Mingar. "Do not embarrass me by dying too quickly, Gragnar," Mingar taunted with a wicked grin. Gragnar, seething with anger and humiliation, nodded in response, his eyes fixated on Aron.

Aron, undeterred by the exchange, looked toward Harald with a casual expression. "I will deal with these annoyances and be back soon," he declared. Harald nodded, a proud smile gracing his lips as he watched his son walk away, his faith in Aron's abilities unshaken.

But in that moment, Mingar took advantage of the distraction. He launched a swift punch, aimed at Harald's gut, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Don't get too distracted," he sneered, relishing the opportunity to strike a blow against his formidable adversary.

Harald, however, was no ordinary opponent. With a feigned wince of pain, he appeared to lower his head, but it was all a ruse. In a swift motion, he retaliated with a powerful strike of his own, sending Mingar hurtling through the air. The force of the impact caused the winged figure to crash into a nearby home, shattering the wooden structure upon impact.

A triumphant grin adorned Harald's face as he stood tall, his mana fluctuations raging around him like a tempest. His blue eyes gleamed with an intensity that matched his resolute demeanor. Opening his arms wide he muttered under his breath, "Come to me, Jormun!"

As if responding to his call, a massive axe hurtled through the air, its imposing presence causing the very ground to quake upon landing in Harald's hand. The axe was a marvel to behold, with a blade crafted from a rare metal that shimmered with an otherworldly blue hue. Intricate engravings adorned its surface, depicting ancient symbols of power and strength.

But Harald was not finished. His voice resonated with an authoritative command. "Gander!" he called out.

In an instant, a second axe came, identical in design to the first. As it settled in his other hand, a violent gust of wind swept through the area, uprooting small trees and swirling dust into a chaotic frenzy. Harald twirled the axes expertly, their weight and power seemingly an extension of his own being.

He approached the fallen figure of Mingar, his voice laced with conviction. "It seems growing wings has made you think you're superior. Allow me to cure you of those delusions," Harald declared, his eyes ablaze with frightening power.