The world came back to Hadrian in a haze of dull throbs and muted colors. He opened his eyes to a faint golden light filtering in through a window, casting soft shadows across the room. The sterile scent of healing potions hung in the air, mixed with the hum of subtle magic pulsing through the walls.
"Oh, look. Sleeping Beauty has finally decided to wake up," a familiar voice remarked dryly, breaking the silence.
Hadrian blinked, his gaze focusing on Hedwig perched on a nearby table, her feathers slightly ruffled and her golden eyes gleaming with amusement. Beside her, Oryou lay coiled with a smirk curling over her reptilian features.
"About time, too," Oryou hissed in a teasing tone. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you drool in your sleep?"
With a soft groan, Hadrian tried to push himself upright, feeling every muscle protest. "Drool? Really?" he muttered, casting them both a half-hearted glare. "And here I thought near-death experiences would bring out some sympathy."
Hedwig tilted her head, her gaze sympathetic but firm. "If you're hoping for a sympathy card, you're looking in the wrong place. But congratulations on surviving, at least."
"Lucky for you, someone was willing to drag you here," Oryou added, gesturing with her tail.
Hadrian glanced around, noting the distinctive glowing runes and soothing ambiance of a magical healing ward. "Where exactly is 'here'?"
"Sankthavn Hospital," Hedwig supplied, her gaze softening. "In Nordhavn Magisk Kvarter. Sieg brought you here himself."
Hadrian managed a faint, grateful smile, his mind flickering back to the battle. "He really carried me out? Guess that guy's more dependable than he looks." His eyes drifted to a nearby table, where two bundles wrapped in cloth lay waiting. Oryou's gaze flicked toward them, drawing his attention.
"He left you a few things," she said, her voice carrying a hint of solemnity.
Hadrian leaned forward, pulling the first bundle closer. He unwrapped it slowly, and the cloth fell away to reveal a collection of twisted, shattered metal—the remnants of Kanshou and Bakuya. The sight hit him like a punch to the gut. Those blades had been with him through every battle, loyal extensions of his will. Now, they lay broken, nothing more than fragments of what they once were.
He traced a finger over the jagged edges, his expression tightening as a quiet grief settled over him. It wasn't just the loss of weapons; it felt like a piece of himself had been left behind on that battlefield.
Hedwig's voice softened. "They served you well, Hadrian. They were part of you."
He nodded, swallowing hard as he wrapped the shards carefully back in the cloth. Finally, he turned to the second bundle, his movements slower, more hesitant. When he pulled away the cloth, a sleek, dark blade came into view—a katana, its edge tinged with a faint, ominous red glow. Energy pulsed faintly along its surface, as though it held a consciousness of its own, waiting for his command.
"That," Hedwig said, her tone shifting to something proud and approving, "is your first Demon Arm."
Hadrian hefted the blade, feeling its weight settle naturally in his grip. He swung it in a slow arc, testing the balance. It felt eerily familiar, like an extension of himself, each movement effortless, each shift of his grip answered with a subtle hum from the blade.
"Not bad," he muttered, giving it another swing, the air parting with a low hiss. "Not bad at all."
Leaving his familiars to watch in silence, he moved toward the window, summoning his well-worn white plastic chair with a casual flick of his fingers. He sank into it, gazing out as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet. Resting the katana across his lap, he watched the colors shift and fade, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his mind.
Oryou slithered over, curling around his chair. "Sieg left a message for you, by the way."
Hedwig perched on the windowsill, her gaze gentle. "He wanted you to know it was an honor fighting beside you. And he promised to keep your heritage a secret."
Hadrian's mouth lifted in a small, rare smile. "He's got honor, that one."
His gaze dropped to Bradamante, his fingers tightening around the hilt as memories of Jin's wrath flooded back. That nightmarish power, the ease with which Jin had overwhelmed him—it had been a humbling, chilling reminder of the battles yet to come.
"We only won because of luck and a few surprises," he said quietly, bitterness lining his voice. "Jin was barely trying."
Hedwig's eyes narrowed. "Don't sell yourself short. That knight's rage blinded him. You're here because you adapted. You survived."
Hadrian let out a dry laugh. "He was more interested in throwing fists than using his sword. If he'd really wielded it…" He trailed off, casting a wary glance at Bradamante, feeling the latent power radiating from the blade. "We wouldn't have stood a chance."
Meanwhile, in the maze-like alleys of Nordhavn Magisk Kvarter, Sieg walked in silence, the familiar shadows casting long, jagged patterns on the cobbled stones. His mind drifting back to the battle, the thrill of victory tempered by the weight of what they'd encountered. Shadows stretched along the stone walls, darkened further by the faint haze of evening.
His solitude was short-lived.
"Did you have fun?" The voice was dark, teasing, with a hint of amusement.
Sieg stopped, his senses sharpening. From the darkness stepped a striking figure—a woman with short, choppy platinum hair, eyes the color of molten gold that gleamed with a fierce, unyielding intensity. Her armor was dark, almost black, adorned with jagged, flame-like patterns, giving her a menacing presence. A cape of tattered black and blood-red billowed behind her, the fabric shifting like shadows clinging to her form.
"Jeanne," Sieg said, his tone calm but edged with familiarity. "Enjoying the view?"
She smirked. "More than expected." Her gaze lingered on him, sharp and assessing. "And what of you? How was your hunt?"
"Interesting, thanks to a Devil Hunter I ran into. Hadrian Redgrave." His words were cautious, the name slipping out carefully.
Jeanne's eyebrow arched. "Oh? And who exactly is Hadrian Redgrave?"
Sieg's expression didn't waver. "Just a name. I gave him my word to keep the rest to myself."
She gave a short, disdainful laugh, though her eyes softened just a fraction. "How very noble of you."
They shared a silence that held unspoken words, a fragile truce of mutual respect. But the quiet was shattered when both their gazes snapped to the clocktower. Perched on the top was a raven, its beady eyes trained intently on them, a silent observer cloaked in shadow.
Jeanne's irritation was instant. Her expression twisted in disdain. "So much for privacy." She turned to Sieg, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination. Before he could react, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a heated kiss, a mixture of defiance and something darker simmering beneath the surface.
The raven cocked its head, watching them as Jeanne lifted her hand, extending a pointed middle finger at their watcher.
With a flick of her wrist, black flames erupted around them, consuming both her and Sieg in a flash of dark energy leaving behind only smoke. The raven cocked its head, letting out a sharp, dissatisfied caw before taking flight, its form blending with the night as it returned to deliver its report.
In the dim light of Eldrun's shop, Huginn and Muninn settled onto their perches, feathers fluffed and irritated from their interrupted watch. Eldrun, the guise of Odin, stood before them, his gaze piercing as he awaited their report.
The ravens cawed in unison, relaying the events they had witnessed. A slow smile spread across Odin's face, his fingers steepling as he considered the implications.
"So... the two lads are becoming... acquainted." His voice was a murmur, tinged with satisfaction. "The pieces are moving, then. Soon, they'll all be where they need to be."
Turning, Odin's gaze shifted out into the night, his expression thoughtful and calculating, as though already seeing the paths his players would take.
Hadrian lay sprawled across the bed in his room at The Frosted Rune, a rustic yet cozy inn nestled in the bustling heart of Nordhavn Magisk Kvarter. After Hedwig's recent burning day—a cycle that left her as a small, downy chick with dimmed flames—he opted to stay here instead of risking a journey back to HQ. The enchanted frost-laden windows cast a silvery glow across the room, creating a serene atmosphere perfect for studying.
With time on his hands, Hadrian buried himself in the Peverell Grimoire, unlocking spell after spell. Thops's Barrier, Carian Phalanx, Loretta's Mastery, Bloodflame Blade, Golden Vow, and Lord's Heal—each cast brought a quiet thrill, like pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle snapping into place. Combined with Bradamante's dimensional abilities, his repertoire had become formidable.
The real test of these new powers came soon enough when rumors of trolls terrorizing a northern village reached him. With the grimoire freshly committed to memory, Hadrian seized the opportunity, setting off toward the rugged, snow-dusted wilderness. He found the trolls—hulking figures looming in the early morning mist, their skin rough as granite and their eyes glinting with raw hostility. They towered over him, armed with massive tree trunks swung as clubs, each strike capable of breaking bones with a single blow.
As the first troll raised its weapon, Hadrian quickly dodged the crushing swing with a swift Voidstep, reappearing at its side. He unleashed Judgment Rift, Bradamante slicing through the thick morning air and creating an arc of dark energy that severed into the troll's hardened skin, leaving a gaping wound across its side. Bellowing in pain, the creature retaliated, but Hadrian was faster, already out of reach.
Two more trolls lumbered toward him from the tree line, their footsteps thundering against the frozen ground. Hadrian's eyes narrowed, calculating their movements, and with a flick of his wrist, he summoned Carian Phalanx, a shimmering phalanx of spectral blades hovering above his head. As the trolls charged, he sent the blades hurtling forward, each one homing in with lethal precision, striking exposed joints and limbs. The creatures howled, momentarily staggered by the barrage.
Yet they weren't finished. One of the trolls, eyes blazing with fury, swung its makeshift club in a sweeping arc. Hadrian raised his hand, casting Thops's Barrier just in time. The ethereal shield absorbed the blow, rippling with magical energy as the club shattered against it, splinters flying. Without hesitation, Hadrian retaliated, activating Bloodflame Blade. Bradamante's edge ignited with dark, searing flames that licked hungrily as he drove the blade into the troll's leg. The flames bit deep, spreading with a sizzling crackle, leaving the troll limping and smoking.
Seeing the trolls begin to rally again, Hadrian clenched his fists, gathering his energy. He brought Bradamante down, striking the earth with a thunderous impact. Surge of the Abyss burst from the ground, an unstoppable wave of dark energy tearing through the trolls' ranks, sending them sprawling back, limbs flailing helplessly as the ground cracked and trembled beneath them.
As the last troll staggered to its feet, battered and bleeding, Hadrian took a deep breath, channeling his final spell. With a fierce slash, he unleashed Loretta's Mastery, a volley of blazing arrows that ripped through the air, each finding its mark with deadly accuracy. The trolls fell in a crumpled heap, steam rising from the smoldering wounds.
Breathing hard but victorious, Hadrian watched the smoke settle, the snow around him tinged with the aftermath of battle. It was a perfect test, each spell coming alive under the harsh light of combat. And as he sheathed Bradamante, he knew he was ready for whatever came next.
But today, he decided to take things slow, choosing instead to explore the city with a mostly recovered Hedwig perched on his shoulder and Oryou coiled like a tattoo around his wrist. His wandering brought him to Wyrd & Wisdom, a bookshop renowned for its enchanted tomes and Norse lore.
The moment Hadrian stepped into Wyrd & Wisdom, he was enveloped in the scent of aged parchment and a faint hum of magic. Towering shelves crammed with books on ancient spells, Scandinavian folklore, and obscure arcane knowledge loomed around him. His gaze fell on a promising title—Scandinavian Shields and Ward Magic—but just as he reached for it, someone bumped into him, sending a stack of books clattering to the floor.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" said a voice. Glancing down, Hadrian saw a young woman hurriedly gathering the scattered volumes, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"No harm done," he assured, bending down to help. As he handed her one of the fallen books, he noticed her striking appearance: silver hair that shimmered softly even in the dim light, and vibrant turquoise eyes that held a spark of curiosity. Her simple black sweater and jeans gave her a practical, grounded look, but the silver charm around her neck hinted at something more.
Their eyes met, and a smirk tugged at the corner of Hadrian's mouth. "You don't look like a local," he observed, teasingly.
She raised an eyebrow, a smirk of her own crossing her lips. "Says the one who nearly toppled my entire library," she replied, humor lacing her words.
Chuckling, he picked up a book titled The Mysteries of Midgard. "Heavy reading for a casual day out, don't you think?"
She laughed—a warm, easy sound that softened her otherwise composed expression. "I suppose so. Valkyries have a habit of taking things seriously."
Hadrian's interest was piqued. "A Valkyrie, huh? Can't say I expected to meet one outside a legend."
Pride flickered in her eyes as she brushed a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear. "I'm Rossweisse. Granddaughter of Gondul and, yes… a Valkyrie in training." She hesitated briefly, then added, "I managed a few days off, so I thought I'd see what Midgard had to offer."
"Right place, right time," he said with a grin, offering his hand. "Hadrian Redgrave. Devil Hunter."
Her handshake was firm, her gaze unwavering. "You don't exactly dress for the part," she remarked a trace of amusement in her voice.
He shrugged, smiling. "Guess I missed the dress code. Though I wasn't expecting to find a Valkyrie bargain-hunting in a Midgard bookshop, either."
Rossweisse's cheeks flushed as she glanced away, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips. "It's not really about bargains," she mumbled, "I just… appreciate practicality."
Hadrian's eyes sparkled with a touch of spontaneity. "Well, how about I make it up to you for all this?" he offered, gesturing at the small pile of books between them. "I know a little place nearby with fantastic Scandinavian food. It's cozy, I promise."
Rossweisse's eyes widened slightly, a darker blush warming her cheeks. "Are… are you asking me on a date?"
Caught off guard, Hadrian's mouth opened, then closed, as he scrambled to reply. "Just a meal, for the books and all," he started but then caught a flicker of disappointment in her expression. "Unless you'd prefer it to be a date?"
Her gaze softened, and she nodded, a small, shy smile curving her lips. "Alright… I'd like that."
The cobblestone streets led them to The Jotun's Rest, a charming, rustic restaurant nestled between two enchanted groves. Inside, flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over wooden walls inscribed with ancient Norse runes, and the scent of herbs and roasting meats lingered in the air. They slipped into a cozy booth, the soft murmur of other patrons creating a relaxed backdrop as they ordered a selection of Scandinavian classics: gravadlax, kjøttkaker, and even rakfisk.
As the first dish arrived, Hadrian leaned back, his expression genuinely curious. "So, what's the appeal of Midgard for a Valkyrie?"
Rossweisse laughed, a warm sound that seemed to catch her by surprise. "Midgard has its own… unexpected charm. Asgard is so full of rules and tradition—everything's set in stone. But here?" She gestured around a spark of excitement in her eyes. "Here, anything's possible. Like running into a Devil Hunter in a bookshop."
Hadrian grinned. "Point taken." He gestured to the tiny chick perched comfortably on his shoulder. "This is Hedwig—she's just recovering from her burning day, so she's not in her full… flame."
Rossweisse's eyes softened as she studied the Phoenix-Thunderbird hybrid. "She's beautiful," she murmured, reaching out slightly, her admiration evident. "I've read about creatures like her, but I've never seen one up close."
Hadrian then nodded toward his wrist, where Oryou was uncoiling, her glimmering scales catching the candlelight. "And this troublemaker is Oryou, my Serpent. She likes to keep me on my toes."
Rossweisse's eyes widened with awe as she took in both creatures. "Quite the impressive company you keep, Hadrian."
"Harry, actually," he corrected, enjoying the familiarity. "And 'Rossweisse' is a bit of a mouthful, don't you think? Got a shorter version?"
She hesitated, her gaze softening slightly. "My family calls me 'Rose,'" she offered, a shy smile appearing. "You… you could use that if you'd like."
"Rose," he echoed thoughtfully, the name rolling off his tongue with a smirk. "I like it. Suits you."
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you. My grandmother always said names carry meaning, something tied to who we are."
Their conversation continued, flowing with an ease that felt almost too natural. They shared stories, laughs, and lingering glances, each moment building a warm familiarity between them.
Finally, Hedwig chirped from Hadrian's shoulder, breaking the comfortable silence. "You two realize you've been staring at each other for a solid five minutes?"
Oryou rolled her eyes, flicking her tail in exasperation. "Honestly, just kiss already and save us the tension."
Both Hadrian and Rossweisse turned crimson, their gazes quickly darting away from each other as they stammered a response, caught completely off guard.
Stepping into the cool night air, Hadrian and Rossweisse lingered beneath the soft glow of the street lamps, the gentle hum of the evening settling around them.
Rossweisse glanced up, a trace of nervousness flickering in her eyes. With a hesitant smile, she rose slightly on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Harry… I really enjoyed tonight."
Caught off guard, Hadrian stood frozen, mouth slightly open in surprise.
Oryou, unimpressed, slapped his cheek with her tail. "Close your mouth before you catch flies," she muttered.
Shaking off his surprise, he managed a grin. "Well, Rose, I'd say I enjoyed this… non-date, too. Maybe we should do it again sometime?"
A deeper blush spread across her cheeks, but her eyes sparkled with a shy smile. "I'd like that," she replied, her voice soft.
They stood close, neither quite willing to step away, savoring the warmth of the moment. Then, with a dramatic sigh, Hedwig fluffed her tiny wings, breaking the silence. "Honestly, humans. All this staring… it's like watching a first-year charms lesson."
Oryou rolled her eyes. "Next thing you know, they'll be writing wedding vows."
Heat crept up Hadrian's neck, and he muttered, "Alright, alright, you two." Despite the teasing, a small, genuine smile tugged at his lips.
Rossweisse chuckled, clearly amused by his familiar's antics. "You've got quite the lively entourage," she remarked.
"'Lively' might be putting it kindly," he replied with a grin. "But they mean well, mostly."
After a lingering pause, they finally parted with a soft wave. As Hadrian made his way back to The Frosted Rune, Hedwig and Oryou kept up a steady stream of teasing, throwing out jabs about "fated destiny" and "love at first sight." And though he grumbled at their remarks, the faint blush on his cheeks—and the genuine smile that lingered long after—revealed more than he cared to admit.
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