With a cold, emotionless look in his eyes, Baldur stepped forward.

But before he could reach her, the stranger stepped forward as well.

Concerned, she raised her hands and wanted to hold him back.

"No! Back off, Kratos.", she shook him. "This has nothing to do..."

The stranger, the man named Kratos, pushed her away. With a grim look on his face, he met Baldur's eyes.

"This path you walk... vengeance. You'll find no peace.", he said, calm but willing to tear him apart if necessary. "I know."

Annoyed, Baldur rolled his eyes.

"You...", he gifted him a warning glance. "I'll deal with you later. But family first."

He turned back to his mother.

The look in those dark eyes of hers was one that he had seen many times before. He had hated it back then and he still hated it now. Only looking at her made this feeling inside him grow.

The numbness seemed to rage and live while he longed for the moment to finally be able to wrap his fingers around her neck and choke the life out of those sad eyes of hers.

But as thought about it, your face appeared before his inner eye.

Would her death bring any satisfaction?

Would he be able to enjoy it?

Or would it just be a waste?

But before he could find out, the stranger squeezed in.

With a low growl, Kratos placed a hand on Baldur's chest and pushed him away.

Annoyed, Baldur closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Groaning in displeasure, he stumbled a few steps back before spreading his arms.

"This again?", he asked with boredom dripping from his tongue. "Fine."

Fire lit up on his skin, crawled over his arms and shoulders, up to the crotch of his neck. With lowered gaze, he curled his lips and let out a deep growl.

But the man named Kratos didn't falter. With a equally grim expression, he met his eyes and and clenched his hands into fists.

The boy drew his bow.

Baldur's eyes jumped to his mother. He knew she wasn't able to fight, only defend herself. However, her magic was a nasty kind with all sorts of loopholes to go around the curse that his father had put onto her.

She would be a bother. But he would fight her either way.

His eyes jumped back to Kratos, who had pulled out his axe. He reached out and wanted to land a hit with the brim of the shield that was attached to the other arm of his.

Just in time, Baldur managed to jump back and dodge the attack.

The magic between his fingers lit up. Strength chased through his body and made all the muscles stiffen like stone.

But as he reached out and aimed for his head, the first blow of his went into nothing. Struck by surprise, he stumbled as the man dodged the attack, grabbed him by the torso and smashed him into the ground like a tree trunk.

A groan escaped Baldur.

His hand jumped toward and wrapped around the enemies neck to pull him close and smash his head into the ground next to him. With a jump, he got back on his feet, but was pierced by a glowing arrow not a second later.

The electricity made his muscles stiffen for a moment.

It gave Kratos enough time to jump back on his feet and rush forward to fab him again by the head and Jack his knee against the side of it.

Blood splashed, a cracking sound filled the silence.

Struck by the force, Baldur fell to the ground and slid through dirt and snow. His back crashed into a rock, smashing it into thousands of little pieces.

He took a deep breath in and let his tongue slide over the blood covered lips. His teeth were still intact, but blood was pouring out his cracked nose.

A blue glow made his chest tremble as the curse started to do its deed.

All of a sudden, two more arrows pierced his chest.

The newly added injuries made the curse flicker. For a moment, the wounds did not heal.

This small timeframe was enough for Kratos to grab Baldur by his feet and throw him across the arena.

As the air whistled inside his ears, Baldur could help but laugh. This was actually stating to be fun. A few more fights and he would be able to make it interesting.

But in the same moment the laughter died and a cold expression appeared on his face.

He had to hurry.

Time was running.

You were dying and yet he had the audacity to waste time by fighting this annoying mam and his brat of a son.

With full force, he slammed into a stone wall.

The stone cracked, trembled and started crumbling down.

A grain escaped him as the rubble buried him underneath. Dust filled his lungs. He had to cough, but couldn't feel it.

With his eyes squeezed together, he tried to see through the veil of dirt.

He raised a hand to protect his face.

An arrow chased through the air and tore the cloud part. It missed his eye by the width of a hair. But the sharp tip manages to stroke his cheek and caused a long scratch to open.

The arrow hit a stone next to his ear. The force was enough to clear the sight of the dust.

His eyes jumped up, just in time to catch a glimpse at another arrow flying his way.

This time, it hit its target.

With insane speed, the sharp tip punched through the palm of his hand and dug its way through. It would have managed to pierce the spot between his eyes if he wouldn't have clenched the hand into a fist and snapped it in two.

With a clack, the two pieces fell to the ground.

Blood poured out of the hole, down his arm and dripped from the edge of his elbow onto the dusty stones.

For a moment, his eyes were glued to the red drops.

"I wish I could feel your pain, little butterfly...", he mumbled and got back on his feet. "I want to suffer for you!"