Young Loki

That decisive battle that shook the Underworld had no victor.

Both Rocks and Harald left with grievous injuries, never to meet again after that.

On the surface, Elbaf returned to calm. The taverns reopened, and the Giants resumed drinking, hunting, and forging.

Yet everyone knew deep down—

Some cracks could no longer be smoothed over by time.

The coast beside Ida Tavern in Elbaf.

The waves struck the reefs again and again, steady and drawn-out.

The air carried a mixture of sea salt and alcohol. The setting sun stained the clouds a dark red, as though the sky still retained the lingering heat of that recent battle.

A tiny Loki sat cross-legged atop a reef.

For a Giant, that posture was practically that of a small child, yet his eyes already held a thoughtfulness far beyond his age.

He held a crumpled newspaper in both hands.

The front-page headline was especially glaring beneath the sunset—

"Rocks Pirates Continue Their Rampage · World Government on High Alert"

Loki frowned and gave a soft snort. "More news about Rocks..."

Just then—

An indescribable pressure descended soundlessly from above.

It was not killing intent, yet it made the air itself tighten slightly, like the sky before a thunderstorm.

Loki's pupils shrank sharply, and he instinctively looked up.

At some point, an extra figure had appeared in the sky.

It was a young man.

He floated in midair, faint arcs of lightning crawling beneath his feet, yet they were restrained with extreme precision, without a trace of destructive power leaking out.

The lightning seemed to obey him, existing in perfect stillness.

He stood around three meters tall, already an oddity among humans. Yet on Elbaf's shoreline, he did not seem out of place at all.

His robust, well-proportioned body was wrapped in a crisp