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The shock on the faces of the Jotun guards was palpable. They looked between Laufey and Loki, processing the implication.
"A lost prince," one of them whispered.
"Raised by Odin," said another with disgust.
"Contaminated by Asgard," spat a third.
But Laufey... Laufey showed no regret. Instead, his expression hardened into something cold and cruel.
"So you survived," he said flatly. "And Odin, in his infinite arrogance, took you as a trophy. Raised you as his own son, without telling you the truth."
He laughed—a bitter, humorless laugh.
"Pathetic. I should have ensured your death personally instead of trusting the cold to do it."
Loki staggered back as if he had been struck physically.
"Is that all you have to say? That you should have killed me yourself?"
"What did you expect?" Laufey snapped, his voice rising. "Tears? Regret? You were weak. Small. Useless to the Jotun. I left you where you belonged—in oblivion."
He rose from where he stood, his massive form looming threateningly.
"And now you come here, raised by my greatest enemy, wearing his clothes, speaking his language, and you expect what? A welcome? Acceptance?"
He spat onto the frozen ground.
"You are an abomination. Neither Jotun nor Asgardian. Just a broken thing between two worlds."
Vidar saw Loki falter, the words hitting him harder than any physical weapon. He saw tears beginning to form in his brother's eyes, saw the raw pain on his face.
And that was enough.
"Watch your words, Laufey," Vidar said, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. The Vidarforce began to pulse within him, responding to his growing rage.
But Laufey did not stop. Instead, his expression twisted into something ugly—contempt mixed with disgust.
"Or what, little god?" he sneered. "Will you punish me for rejecting this... waste?"
He looked at Loki again, and his eyes gleamed with more than contempt. There was hatred there. Pure hatred.
"He should have died as he was meant to. His very existence is an offense."
And then, without further warning, Laufey attacked.
His hand transformed into a massive spear of ice, extending forward with terrifying speed, straight toward Loki's heart.
Everything happened in fractions of a second.
Loki was too shocked to move.
Hela began to materialize blades, but she was too far away.
And Vidar...
Vidar moved.
Vidar's power exploded around him in a shockwave of force. In his right hand, the energy sword he had used against Odin materialized—the Sword of Balance, forged from pure equilibrium of his own power.
Vidar appeared between Laufey and Loki in a blink, moving faster than Jotun eyes could follow.
The golden blade cut through the air with a hum that made nearby guards' ears bleed.
And it sliced cleanly through Laufey's outstretched arm.
The Jotun king's arm—the ice spear and all—fell to the ground with a heavy, final sound. It shattered on impact, fragments of blue ice scattering across the snow.
Laufey roared—a scream of pain and shock that echoed throughout Jotunheim.
But Vidar did not stop there.
In the same fluid motion, his left hand shot forward, grabbing Laufey by the throat, completely immobilizing the Jotun king.