A cone of flame burst from the Flying Sword and exploded across Surtur's face, sending him plunging into the bottomless abyss beside the Bifrost...
With death looming, Surtur gathered all his remaining strength in furious desperation and hurled his greatsword, hoping to take Hela down with him.
Hela had already exhausted every ounce of her Vigor. With the sword spinning toward her at such close range, she had no time to dodge...
The two old Asgardians who had fought their way onto the Bifrost roared in terror and raised their shields in front of Hela...
One-eyed, one-armed old Isaac unleashed the faint Divine Fire within him. With a howl, he braced his shoulder against his shield, ready to take the terrifying blow for Hela...
But after all their shouting, the two old men never heard a collision. They exchanged a glance, then leaned out to look.
Their eldest princess was being held in the arms of that fearsome warrior...
Meanwhile, Thor had caught the treacherous greatsword in his hand. Its blade was barely a centimeter from their shields.
Seeing the shock on the two old Asgardians' faces, Thor said with a hint of smugness, "No need to thank me. I only saved your lives..."
Isaac, a veteran of countless battles, glanced at Thor, who was still bleeding from every orifice. Rolling his ugly single eye, he turned to the bearded man beside him and asked, "You really want to follow this idiot?"
The bearded man didn't dare be as rude as Isaac. He stole a glance at Thor, who looked like he'd tried to hang himself and failed, then hesitated. "But our eldest princess..."
Isaac looked at Hela, who had her arms around Alvin's neck and seemed gravely wounded. He smacked his lips, sounding uncertain. "Something doesn't seem right here!