The Bifrost hurled Thor and Solomon through several worlds, eventually depositing them on Earth—a decision Heimdall likely didn't anticipate. The cursed warriors of the Dark Elves seemed particularly well-suited to Earth's environment, their spirits invigorated by the fresh, post-rain summer forest air. In stark contrast, Solomon found himself increasingly at a disadvantage in close combat.
During one of the cursed warrior's powerful punches, Solomon was forced to raise his longsword in defense. The result was predictable: the Centurion longsword bent under the impact, and Solomon was thrown into the wet underbrush. Branches snapped beneath him, and he nearly lost his breath.
"Ribbit."
"You're right," Solomon muttered, agreeing with the old frog by the pond. Tossing aside his broken sword, he scooped up the frog. But he had no time to brush the mud off himself as the cursed warrior bulldozed through the trees like a rampaging tank, charging straight at him.
Desperate, Solomon hurled the frog at the cursed warrior's face. To his astonishment, the massive figure staggered backward as though colliding with an invisible barrier. A piercing whistle followed, and a hammer shot out of the trees, slamming into the cursed warrior and sending him flying into the murky green pond. His black armor was now coated with algae, gleaming with a sickly green sheen.
"You alright?" Thor descended from the sky, greeting Solomon. The mage merely rolled his eyes. If time weren't so critical, he would have demanded to know where Thor had vanished. "Apologies," Thor offered, "I was thrown off the Bifrost as we approached Earth and only just found you."
"Wonderful," Solomon grumbled, pointing at the cursed warrior rising from the pond. Steam hissed from the dark figure, and the algae clinging to him rapidly turned yellow and crumbled. Fueled by the Aether, the cursed warrior's body continued to burn through its own life force, his rising temperature a visible symptom.
"That guy's yours," Solomon said. "I'm running low on spell components. I can't offer much support."
"Leave it to me." Thor extended his hand, summoning Mjölnir. "I've got a score to settle with him!"
"Wow, cool! That has to be Thor. I saw him with the hammer!" Dany whispered excitedly, peering through a gap in the foliage at the pond. This unassuming spot, once their favorite playground, was now hosting a "battle between good and evil," as Newton, the bespectacled boy, put it.
Before arriving, they had thoroughly examined the scorched ground. Only Anduin seemed concerned about the destruction of their secret base. "Agents will come—S.H.I.E.L.D., I've heard of them," he lamented. "They'll drive black cars, turn this place into a government facility, and we'll never see it again. They might even brainwash us into becoming idiots—or worse, turn the whole town into idiots."
"Well, even if I do end up an idiot, I'm going to watch Thor fight!" Dany declared defiantly. "For most people in this town, that would actually be an improvement!"
Despite her bravado, Anduin's predictions left Newton trembling.
"Who do you think that guy in the red robe is?" Newton finally asked, his curiosity overcoming his fear. "Maybe he's from Asgard too?"
"No, he's not…" Dany's eyes widened as she watched Solomon conjure colorful lights. Her own eyes seemed to shine with excitement. "He's a wizard!"
The fire in Solomon's hands was a masterpiece. He rang a small bell that might have driven a parrot mad (one of the few items stuffed into his pocket), and slender streams of flame coiled upward, blossoming into a fiery flower at their peak. From this fiery bloom emerged a magnificent golden-red phoenix, spreading its wings as it flew forth. It delivered a small pouch to Solomon, allowing him to replace his damaged dimensional bag.
The replacement pouch wasn't as well-stocked as the original, but it held enough materials for his needs. He then retrieved an industrial-style, large-caliber handgun.
During the earlier skirmish in Asgard, Queen Frigga and Sif had attempted to assist. However, Malekith, previously subdued, seized the opportunity to counterattack, lunging at Jane Foster behind Solomon. Unfortunately for Malekith, Jane was merely an illusion conjured by Queen Frigga. Mistaking Solomon as the bearer of the Aether, Malekith and his cursed warrior directed their fury at him.
The fight in the chamber had been chaotic. A tear in Solomon's dimensional bag—courtesy of Malekith or the cursed warrior—spilled its contents, littering the room with books, potions, glass vials, gears, feathers, and other oddities, further complicating the battle.
Neither Malekith nor the cursed warrior had fared well amidst the chaos, as Sif lobbed several mysterious potions at them. The ensuing chemical reactions left both combatants with a nasty case of hives.
Back at the pond, sparks of electricity now danced across the water's surface. Foul-smelling steam and mud splattered everywhere as Thor and the cursed warrior clashed in waist-deep water. Fish and other aquatic creatures floated belly-up in the aftermath. Solomon could only hope the cursed warrior's hives would hinder him enough to give Thor an opening. Judging by the way the cursed warrior scratched himself through his armor, the irritation seemed to be taking its toll.
Pain was bearable; itching was not.
With the phoenix's help, the battle turned in their favor. Though Thor and the cursed warrior battled from one end of the pond to the other, the bird's haunting song distracted the cursed warrior. Thor, with his ears magically blocked by Solomon, was unaffected.
Seizing the moment, Thor delivered two mighty blows to the cursed warrior's helmet, denting it inward. After several grueling minutes, Thor managed to pin the cursed warrior underwater. As Solomon had advised, Thor used a black collar enchanted with a second-circle spell, Binding Lash, crafted from a hornet found on the ground. The spell gradually drained the warrior's vitality.
Though the cursed warrior's strength began to wane, Thor didn't relent. Pressing Mjölnir to the warrior's chest, he ensured his opponent couldn't move. When the steam and stench finally dissipated, Thor retrieved his hammer and hauled the drowned warrior from the water. For good measure, he delivered one last blow to the head, ensuring no one—cursed warrior or otherwise—could survive with their skull smashed.
Thor staggered to the shore, collapsing onto the muddy ground in exhaustion. The battle had drained him, and the algae clinging to his hair didn't help. He lacked the strength to wring the filth from his locks.
"Ribbit."
"You're absolutely right," Solomon agreed, acknowledging the pond's sole survivor.
"Do you think that wizard is an Avenger?" Dany asked her companions, who were huddled under the bushes. "I've only seen the Avengers on TV. Maybe he's a newbie, and Thor's teaching him how to fight villains. That's how it works at my dad's company—senior employees train the rookies. It's probably the same!"
"Maybe he's an alien…" Newton ventured hesitantly.
"You're such an idiot. Thor is an alien…"
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