Chapter 3: The Cry of a Coward


    The forest was eerily silent as Loki and Bo ran, their breaths ragged, their hearts pounding like war drums.


    "Hey, Loki… what the hell was that?!" Bo gasped between strides, his voice shaking.


    Loki didn''t answer. His mind was spinning. They had seen something—a shadowy figure lurking in the trees. But when they looked back… nothing.


    "Fuck this, we need to get out of here," Loki muttered, grabbing his bow.


    Just as they turned to leave, a massive shape blocked their path.


    A giant.


    Its towering body loomed over them, its single, grotesque eye glaring down. Drool dripped from its open mouth, its rotten breath filling the air.


    A cyclops.


    Both of them bolted.


    But they were too slow.


    A massive hand snatched them up, squeezing tightly. The monster lifted them into the air, its mouth opening wide, ready to devour them whole.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Loki’s mind raced. His life flashed before his eyes.


    His mother. The only family he had left. The woman who hid her pain behind fake smiles, pretending to be strong for him.


    His father. Gone in a tragic accident.


    His older brother. Left without a word.


    His fear. The moment that changed him. From a brave hunter to a coward afraid of his own shadow.


    “Why… why is it always me?!”


    The frustration, the fear, the helplessness—it all exploded inside him.


    With a guttural scream, Loki twisted in the cyclops’ grip and sank his teeth into its filthy skin.


    The beast roared in pain, dropping them both.


    Loki hit the ground hard but didn’t hesitate. His eyes burned red as he grabbed his sword, his knuckles white from the grip.


    The cyclops snarled and swung its fist—a boulder-sized punch aimed to crush Loki.


    But something inside Loki had snapped.


    He jumped.


    The blade sliced through the air, cutting deep into the monster''s stomach.


    Blood splattered across the forest floor.


    "Loki… you…" Bo gasped, wide-eyed.


    The cyclops let out a monstrous roar, grabbing Loki with its remaining hand in a blink.


    "Shit!" Bo cursed, notching an arrow.


    He fired—the arrow piercing straight through the cyclops’ shoulder.


    The monster howled in pain.


    "Hah! Fuck you, you ugly bastard!" Bo grinned.


    Loki, gasping for breath, tightened his grip on his sword. He met Bo''s eyes. No words were needed.


    They moved as one.


    Bo fired an arrow straight into the cyclops’ chest.


    Loki, with every ounce of strength left in his body, leapt and brought his blade down—severing the cyclops’ head in a single, bloody strike.


    The monster crumbled, its massive body falling to its knees before finally collapsing into the dirt.


    Loki hit the ground hard, his body aching. His vision blurred before everything faded to black.


    Bo, panting, wiped sweat from his forehead. He looked at Loki and chuckled.


    "Ha… Good job, dumbass," he muttered, carrying Loki on his back.


    As the night settled, they found a small, abandoned shelter and collapsed inside.


    Bo let out a sigh.


    "See you tomorrow, buddy," he whispered before exhaustion took him.


    ---


    Meanwhile…


    In the heart of Veldor, a man sat upon a grand throne. His voice was cold, ruthless.


    "Listen up, you worthless bastards," he sneered at the generals kneeling before him. "I want that land… no matter the cost."


    The generals bowed deeply.


    "As you wish, my lord."


    A war was coming.


    And Loki… was at the center of it.