Chapter 108 When Legends Unite
The three of them stepped onto the massive dragon-bone bridge that arched over the misty abyss of Sovngarde, its pale ribs curving like the remains of some ancient, fallen god. The wind howled faintly through the hollowed bones beneath their boots.
Alex walked in front, his shoulders slightly stiff. Behind him, Emma and Astrid followed in tense silence, their expressions equally sour—though for very different reasons. Astrid's lips were pressed into a thin line, her brows subtly drawn together. Emma's chin was lifted high, arms folded beneath her chest, her gaze sharp and unreadable.
Every few steps, Alex cast a careful glance over his shoulder.
Astrid wasn't looking at him—she was staring straight ahead.
Emma, on the other hand, met his glance once… only to look away with a small, dismissive scoff.
(This is really awkward…) Alex sighed inwardly. (I'd rather fight another dragon than deal with this.)
The silence stretched unbearably long, broken only by the echo of their footsteps against bone.
He cleared his throat, the sound exaggerated in the still air.
"Ehem…" He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual tone. "Astrid, when we got separated by that fog… how was your journey?"
There was a pause.
Astrid didn't answer immediately. Her boots slowed slightly before she resumed her pace. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm—but edged with something restrained.
"When we were separated…" She clasped her hands behind her back, gaze forward. "I tried to find you. I searched through the mist, calling your name."
Her eyes flickered to the side.
Then slowly… deliberately… she turned her head toward Emma.
"But instead," she continued, her jaw tightening ever so slightly, "I found you enjoying yourself with another woman."
Emma's eyebrow twitched.
Alex nearly choked on air. "What? No—no, that's not what happened!"
He spun around fully now, walking backward for a moment as he raised both hands defensively.
"Honestly, my encounter with Emma didn't end well at all. Astrid, you've got the wrong idea." He grimaced, recalling the memory. "To be precise… she was trying to kill me."
Emma stopped walking for half a second.
"Excuse me?" she snapped, her eyes flashing.
She uncrossed her arms sharply and pointed at him. "Hey! That was because you had absolutely no manners!" She took a few quick steps forward, boots striking hard against bone. "If you had been more respectful instead of provoking me, maybe I wouldn't have thrown you into a ravine."
Alex winced. "You make it sound so reasonable when you say it like that…"
Astrid's footsteps halted completely.
"Ravine?" she repeated softly.
Her eyes widened, the irritation instantly replaced by concern. She turned slowly toward Emma, her gaze sharpening, golden eyes burning with sudden intensity.
"You threw him… into a ravine?" Her voice dropped dangerously low.
Emma met her stare without backing down, though her jaw tightened slightly.
Astrid stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Her hand subtly moved toward the hilt of her weapon, not drawing it—but close enough to make her intent clear.
"You—!!"
Alex reacted instantly.
He stepped between them, raising both hands, placing one gently against Astrid's forearm before she could move any closer to Emma. His touch was firm but careful, as if calming a wild flame before it turned into an inferno.
"Relax, Astrid," he said quickly, offering her a reassuring smile. He even spread his arms slightly and turned his body from side to side as if presenting proof. "Look at me. I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?"
He gave a small, awkward chuckle.
"Besides…" His hand slid to the back of his neck, rubbing it sheepishly. "Maybe it was partly my fault. I get fired up too easily. I might've said a few things that… weren't exactly polite."
Astrid's grip on her weapon slowly loosened.
Her eyes moved over him carefully—his shoulders, his arms, his face—searching for hidden injuries as if she didn't fully trust his words. After a long breath, her posture softened just a little.
She exhaled through her nose, steadying herself.
"So…" she began, though her gaze remained fixed on Emma, sharp and assessing. "You don't have any intentions toward my man, Emma?"
The possessiveness in her tone was subtle—but unmistakable.
Emma blinked once, then let out a long, exaggerated sigh. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and shifted her weight onto one hip, folding her arms again.
"No," she replied flatly. "You're lucky you found such a talented man."
Her eyes flicked toward Alex briefly, then back to Astrid.
Astrid's lips slowly curled upward. The tension in her shoulders melted away, replaced by quiet pride.
"Hehe…" She stepped closer to Alex and lightly hooked her arm around his. "I really am lucky."
Alex blinked, slightly flustered but relieved. (Okay… crisis avoided.)
The heavy atmosphere that had clung to the bridge began to thin. The air felt less sharp, the wind less biting. Emma no longer looked ready to shove someone into another ravine, and Astrid's glare had finally cooled.
For a few steps, they walked in peace.
Then Astrid's expression shifted.
"Oh right, Alex," she said suddenly, her tone turning serious.
Alex, who had just begun to relax, stopped mid-step and turned toward her immediately. "What is it?"
"On my way here… I encountered Alduin."
Alex froze.
"What?" His eyes widened instantly. He stepped closer to her, gripping her shoulders instinctively as if confirming she was truly unharmed. "You did? But you're okay, right? He didn't—"
"I'm fine," Astrid interrupted softly, placing her hand over his to reassure him.
For a brief moment, she smiled—genuinely touched by the worry written so clearly across his face. His brows were drawn tight, his jaw tense, eyes searching hers desperately.
(He's really worried about me…) she thought, warmth blooming faintly in her chest.
But her expression soon grew serious again.
"The Alduin we defeated before…" she continued slowly, "…he was completely different."
She looked ahead toward the distant golden mist of Sovngarde.
"When I saw him, he was much larger. His wings cast a shadow over the land. His presence alone felt heavier… suffocating. He was stronger."
She glanced back at Alex.
"Just like you said. If he absorbs souls, he grows bigger and more powerful. You were right."
Alex inhaled sharply and lowered his hands.
"Huff…" He ran a hand through his hair, his expression darkening. "Then it's true."
His mind was already racing.
"That means we don't stand a chance alone." He looked toward the towering silhouette of the Hall of Valor in the distance. "We have to reach the Hall of Valor and seek help. If you're there—along with the ancient Nord heroes—I'm sure they'll aid us."
Emma nodded slightly, her tone calmer now, more analytical.
"Yes. According to the prophecy, you are the one destined to kill Alduin." She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "When I struck him down before, he felt… wrong. Almost immortal. Like the world itself refused to let him die."
She looked at Alex steadily.
"But if you are the one who slays him… perhaps this time he will die permanently."
Alex's eyes suddenly lit with realization.
"Dragonrend," he muttered.
He looked at Astrid urgently.
"Astrid, I think Dragonrend is the key. It forces a dragon to understand mortality. I'm sure the ancient Nord heroes can use that Thu'um—you saw them do it when you used the Elder Scroll, didn't you?"
Astrid's gaze unfocused slightly as memory resurfaced.
The vision.
The ancient battlefield.
The three Nord heroes standing united, their voices shaking the sky as they unleashed Dragonrend upon Alduin.
"Yes…" she whispered, remembering the raw power of that moment. "You're right. I saw it clearly. They used it together."
Alex's expression hardened with determination.
"Then we must ask for their help."
His voice carried no hesitation now—only resolve.
"Together… we'll bring down the World-Eater for good."
With their resolve set, the three of them quickened their pace across the dragon-bone bridge. The wind howled through the skeletal arches beneath their feet, carrying distant echoes of laughter from ahead.
The towering doors of the Hall of Valor loomed before them—massive slabs of carved wood reinforced with iron, etched with ancient Nordic runes that shimmered faintly in the golden light of Sovngarde.
Alex stepped forward first.
He placed both hands against the cold surface and pushed.
The doors groaned deeply as they slowly swung inward, the sound echoing like a war horn announcing their arrival.
A wave of warmth, firelight, and roaring voices spilled out to greet them.
"Okay…" Alex muttered under his breath, squaring his shoulders. "This is it."
They stepped inside.
The sight before them was overwhelming.
Long wooden tables stretched across the vast hall, overflowing with roasted meats, fresh bread, wheels of cheese, and overflowing tankards of mead. Great hearth fires crackled along the walls, their flames dancing high and bright. Shields and banners decorated the stone pillars, and the ceiling arched high above like the ribs of some divine beast.
Countless Nords filled the hall—laughing, boasting, clashing tankards together in thunderous cheers. Some sang heroic ballads. Others reenacted battles with exaggerated gestures, drawing roars of approval from their companions.
It was not the hall of warriors waiting for doom.
It was a celebration.
Alex blinked slowly, his brows knitting together.
"…Wait." He turned in a slow circle, scanning the room. "Don't they know there's a giant monster terrorizing Sovngarde outside?"
A group of warriors nearby erupted in laughter as one of them dramatically mimicked being struck down in battle.
Emma walked past him calmly, her boots steady against the stone floor.
"They know," she replied evenly. "Every soul here knows."
She gestured subtly toward the far end of the hall.
"But they obey Shor's command. Until the Dragonborn calls, they remain here. They feast. They wait."
Astrid's eyes moved across the gathering, her expression caught between awe and disbelief. Warriors who had fallen centuries ago stood shoulder to shoulder, their armor gleaming, their laughter booming like thunder.
Alex exhaled slowly.
(So this is another version of Valhalla, huh…) he thought, watching two warriors arm-wrestling while others cheered them on.
Before he could say more, a tall, broad-shouldered warrior approached them. His beard was thick and braided, his armor marked with countless battle scars. His presence alone felt heavy with history.
He stopped a few steps away and planted the butt of his axe against the floor.
"Welcome, Dragonborn," he said, his voice deep and resonant, carrying easily above the noise of the hall.
Several nearby warriors quieted, turning their attention toward them.
"Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here. By Shor's command, we sheathed our blades and ventured not into the dark mist of the vale."
He lifted his chin slightly, eyes gleaming with restrained fury.
"But we await your word… to loose our wrath upon the perilous foe."
He stepped aside slightly and gestured toward three figures deeper within the hall.
"Gormlaith the Fearless, glass-hearted in battle.
Hakon the Valient, heavy-handed warrior.
Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim."
As he spoke their names, a subtle hush rippled outward.
Across the hall, three figures stood out even among legends.
Alex leaned closer to Astrid, lowering his voice.
"They must be the three heroes you saw in the Elder Scroll."
His eyes locked onto them with growing determination.
"Let's go. We combine our strength with theirs… and end this."
Astrid nodded firmly.
Emma gave a small smirk, adjusting the grip on her weapon.
Together, the three of them began weaving through the sea of warriors—past clashing tankards, roaring laughter, and blazing hearth fires—moving steadily toward the legendary heroes who once wounded the World-Eater himself.
At the far end of the hall, the three ancient Nord champions stood locked in conversation, their presence commanding, their aura heavy with the weight of destiny.
Near one of the blazing hearths stood the three ancient Nord heroes.
The fierce-looking woman paced back and forth, her boots striking firmly against the stone floor. Her braided hair swayed behind her shoulders, and her hand gripped the haft of her axe so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Firelight danced across her scarred armor and reflected in her sharp, eager eyes.
"I can't wait to slaughter Alduin," she growled, her lips curling into a savage grin. There was hunger in her voice—not reckless fury, but the burning impatience of a warrior denied battle for too long.
The man standing beside her—broad-shouldered, calm, and steady—rested one hand on the pommel of his sword. His posture was relaxed, but there was a quiet strength in the way he held himself.
"Hold yourself, Gormlaith," he said evenly, though his eyes burned just as fiercely. "We must wait for the Dragonborn."
A few steps behind them stood an older man, his beard long and silver, his gaze distant yet piercing. His hands were folded behind his back as though he were contemplating the flow of fate itself.
"Hakon speaks wisely," the old man added, his voice measured and deep. "Yes… we must wait."
At that moment, Astrid, Alex, and Emma stepped forward from between the long tables.
The noise of the hall dimmed slightly as several warriors noticed them approaching. Tankards lowered. Conversations softened.
Gormlaith was the first to turn fully toward them.
Her eyes widened with recognition—and excitement.
"Ahh!" she exclaimed, stepping forward eagerly. "At long last!"
She lifted her axe and slammed its blade into the stone floor with a resounding clang that echoed through the hall.
"Alduin's doom is ours to witness!" she declared, her voice ringing with fierce pride. "Just say the word, Dragonborn, and we shall smite him!"
Felldir stepped forward more slowly, his aged eyes studying Astrid with quiet approval.
"Yes," he said, raising one hand slightly as if already feeling the power gathering. "By joining our voices… we can defeat him. Our Thu'um will shake the sky itself."
Hakon's steady gaze locked onto Astrid. He gave her a firm nod, warrior to warrior.
"The World-Eater fears you, Dragonborn," he said without hesitation. "He fled from your strength once. He will not escape again."
Astrid felt the weight of their faith settle upon her shoulders.
She straightened her posture, lifting her chin. The flicker of doubt that had lingered earlier was gone, replaced by burning resolve.
"Alright," she said firmly.
She turned her head slightly to look back at Alex and Emma.
"Are you both ready to finish Alduin?"
Emma rolled her shoulders once, loosening her neck with a faint crack. A confident smirk spread across her lips as she rested her weapon against her shoulder.
"Heh. Of course," she replied coolly. "I'll be the one to take his head."
Her eyes gleamed with competitive fire.
Alex stepped forward beside Astrid, inhaling deeply. He flexed his fingers once, steadying his nerves, then nodded.
"Yes. I'm ready," he said, his voice calmer than he felt. "Let's finish this quickly."
(Phew… finally. I hope this goes smoothly, ) he thought, though his heart was already beginning to pound in anticipation.
Astrid looked at each of them—Emma's fierce confidence, Alex's steady determination, the ancient heroes standing tall behind her.
Then she drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs.
Her eyes burned with dragonfire.
"GRAAAAH!" she roared, her voice echoing across the hall like the prelude to a storm. "Alduin—your doom is near!"
The hall erupted in thunderous cheers.
Without another word, Astrid spun on her heel and sprinted toward the massive doors. Alex and Emma followed at her sides, boots pounding against stone.
Behind them, Gormlaith ripped her axe from the floor with a savage grin. Hakon drew his blade in one smooth motion. Felldir's eyes glowed faintly as ancient power stirred within him.
The doors of the Hall of Valor burst open once more.
Together, the Dragonborn, her allies, and the three legendary heroes charged into the golden mist of Sovngarde—ready to face the World-Eater in their final battle.