A/N: As of today, this story is now up to date with where it is on all of the other websites I post to. Because of this, chapters will no longer come out daily, but will come out whenever the commissioner for this story has me write a new chapter!

-x-X-x-

“Do not fail me, Skovald…”
 
Gritting his teeth, the God-King of the Felskorn twitches his head to the side, resisting the urge to brush his hand across his ear as if to remove a gnat. It wouldn’t do anything anyways. Gul’dan’s voice… the voice of his Master, as galling as it was for Skovald to admit, was not some gnat to be brushed away.
 
Setback after setback had still led him here, to his destiny. Looking down upon his forces doing battle at the Gates of Valor, besieging the Halls and pushing against the defenders with Fel-Infused might, Skovald thinks he should feel more satisfaction than this. Instead… he feels nothing more than his losses.
 
This journey has not been without its failures. He was supposed to be God-King. The entirety of the Tideskorn were supposed to be united behind him. Instead, his… defeat at the Battle of Kingsfall Pass had set him back drastically, and ruined his credibility with more than a fair portion of his own people.
 
One might argue that Skovald had been victorious at Kingsfall Pass. After all, he’d killed Queen Bretta, had he not? He’d slew his own mother on the field of battle, removing the last possible threat to his claim to rule. He should have been undisputed and uncontested when it came to ruling the Tideskorn. And yet… and yet that human wizard.
 
Even now, Skovald clenches his fist as he feels phantom pain wrack his form. Just after killing his mother, a small human had dared to attack him… and damn near succeeded in killing him in a single blow. What should have been a tiny, insignificant piece of trash in the face of his might and stature and power… had very nearly proved to be his undoing right then and there.
 
Only the Legion had saved him from certain death, but in fleeing the field of battle as he had, Skovald had nevertheless done irreparable damage to his own reputation. Tideskorn who had been willing to follow him for glory and honor had suddenly questioned whether he was worthy of their loyalty. More than that, the Tideskorn he’d had to leave behind on the field that day had been slain to the last, his army taking a huge hit from both directions at the same time.
 
On both a personal and general level, the God-King had been forced to lean on his Legion benefactors more and more, until he could no longer deny that they owned him, that Gul’dan was his Master, not just… an ally. The human wizard’s damage had been repaired and Skovald now stood stronger and mightier than ever before, but as a result, more Fel Magic coursed through him. A small part of him even dared to whisper in the back of his mind that his power… his strength… was borrowed. And that it could be taken away at any time.
 
Directly related to that, his armies had been augmented by Burning Legion forces. In place of the Tideskorn that had been slain or deserted his forces, demons now littered his army, making up the difference. But this was also borrowed power, and this time undeniably so. The demons in his army did not truly answer to Skovald. No, they answered to Gul’dan, and they could abandon Skovald at any time if Gul’dan gave the order, leaving the God-King high and dry.
 
Initially, Skovald had had such mighty, glorious plans. When Gul’dan had first approached him, the then-Jarl Skovald had decided to take the demonic orc up on his offer, but with every intention of stealing every last bit of power that he could from Gul’dan before betraying the other and striking out on his own. He had even gifted his family with the gift of Fel Magic, fully envisioning a future where his sons and daughter ruled a newly unified Vrykul Empire after he was gone.
 
Alas, assassins had destroyed that plan, killing his family and leaving Skovald all alone and with vanishingly few allies. Indeed, even now his goal to create a Vrykul Empire beneath his bloodline had to be put on the backburner. If he did not succeed today, if he did not make sure Gul’dan was satisfied with his efforts, then he might lose everything.
 
Far from envisioning a world where he could betray Gul’dan and the Legion and usurp their power for himself, Skovald was now desperate, backed into a corner and just trying to survive another day. One might wonder if striking at Odyn’s Fortress, the Halls of Valor, was all that conducive to survival… but Skovald had every reason to be confident.
 
Odyn’s Valarjar were faltering right before his eyes. The tide of Felskorn and demons were washing over them, breaking them down bit by bit and eroding their defenses. Standing tall, overlooking the battle taking plate at the Gates of Valor, Skovald grunts, finally deigning to answer Gul’dan’s whisper in his ear.
 
“It will be done. With the army at my disposal, pushing Odyn back long enough to seize the Aegis of Aggramar for you will be child’s play… Master.”
 
Gul’dan’s pleased humming reverberates through Skovald’s skull, making the God-King clench his teeth in anger at how far he’s fallen.
 
“Good… good. But you must push in deeper. You must… lead from the front. Odyn himself will take the field soon. You must meet him and show him the might of the Burning Legion.”
‘The might of the Burning Legion’. Not ‘the might of the Felskorn’. Not ‘the might of God-King Skovald’. Gritting his teeth, grinding them together some more, Skovald nevertheless bows his head.
 
“Of course… Master.”
 
With that, the God-King leaps down from his rock overlooking the battle, with a roar, he pushes forward to the front. The Felskorn that see him take up his battle cry, their morale bolstered by the presence of their leader on the battlefield. Meanwhile, the demons just cackle and press the assault, all too eager to rip, rend, and tear.
 
Skovald hits the front lines of the Gates of Valor like a meteor. He strikes down Odyn’s Valarjar one after the other, and bursts his way into the Halls of Valor, leading the charge until, at long last… Odyn himself is before them. The Titan Keeper himself has taken the field, with Skovald sneering as he points his clawed Fel-infused arm at Odyn, sending forth wave after wave of demons.
 
The Keeper destroys them of course with almost contemptuous ease… but that’s to be expected. The Burning Legion’s forces are endless where Skovald’s are not, and they push Odyn back regardless of the Titan Keeper’s immense personal power. This isn’t about killing Odyn. It never has been. This is about retrieving the Aegis of Aggramar once and for all.
 
Skovald can see the artifact in the back of the main chamber. It’s within his grasp. So long as the demons continue to flow, so long as they can occupy Odyn’s attention for a few minutes longer…
 
But just as this thought is passing through Skovald’s head, something impossible happens. The sounds of fresh battle horns fills the air, causing a multitude of eyes to turn, including the God-King’s own. They’re all just in time to see a truly baffling sight as Vrykul, Valarjar, Kvaldir, and Val’kyr all slam into the Felskorn’s rear, cutting off and dispelling half of the portals spewing reinforcements from the Burning Legion in their charge, and slaughtering their way towards the Gates of Valor.
 
For a second, Skovald feels nothing but soul-deep dismay as Gul’dan hisses in his ear in anger. Was this some sort of trap? Had reinforcements arrived on behalf of Odyn to stop him once and for all? He was so close… and yet, here was his defeat, taking place right before his eyes.
 
“The Aegis, Skovald! Retrieve the Aegis!”
 
But Gul’dan’s insistence ultimately falls on deaf ears. With the flow of demonic reinforcements cut in half, Odyn is no longer nearly as hard-pressed. He is not being pushed back quite so much anymore, and the path to the Aegis of Aggramar is no longer quite as clear as it once was. But more than that… Skovald pauses as he sees someone he’s not expecting at the head of this new force.
 
As the third faction reaches the Gates of Valor, they do not move to reinforce the beleaguered defenders of the Halls as Skovald had most dearly feared. Rather… the tide of Vrykul, Kvaldir, and Val’kyr cut right through Odyn’s forces just the same as they’re cutting through Skovald’s. And at their head, one among them fights like a woman possessed. Clad in concealing armor, she battles her way into the Halls themselves, leading a force of warrior women who can only be Valkyra from Skold-Ashil.
 
“ODYN! SKOVALD! I HAVE COME FOR YOUR HEADS!”
 
It can’t be. Skovald can hardly believe his ears, though that does not stop him from blocking the opportunistic strikes from the enemies surrounding him, cleaving their bodies in twain as he clears a space. Finally, the leader of the third faction arrives before him and Odyn, snarling at the both of them. Odyn in particular looks downright confused, his one eye narrowing in bemusement.
 
“You… who are you?”

Tearing her helmet off, Skovald’s daughter reveals herself. He’d already known it was her from the voice, but to see her familiar features again after he thought he lost her… Skovald can admit, for the briefest of moments he feels a twinge in his black heart.
 
“I am Sigryn! Granddaughter of Bretta! Chosen of Eyir! I am the God-Queen of the Tideskorn, and you both will pay for your crimes this day!”
 
And now Skovald is just as bewildered as Odyn. His daughter was… forsaking him? No, she was USURPING him? A low growl leaves the God-King’s throat, as he clenches his hands around his sword and shield.
 
“Daughter! Cease this foolishness at once! I am glad you live, but you must join forces with me this instant and help me retrieve the Aegis of Aggramar!”
 
Meanwhile, Odyn rumbles and finally speaks as well.
 
“No. You wish to be God-Queen, young Sigryn? Mm… I have not heard from Eyir in quite some time, but if she vouches for you, I am prepared to give you my blessing. Slay your traitorous father and the sins of your blood will be washed away.”
 
Skovald feels a spike of panic in his heart. If Sigryn took Odyn up on his offer… but instead, his daughter throws her head back, tossing her mane of red hair in the process… and laughs. She laughs boisterously at their words, even as the fighting continues on all around them, their three factions all struggling and surging against one another. Skovald’s forces had been making steady progress against Odyn’s Valarjar before Sigryn’s arrival, but now with the demonic reinforcement points cut in half and this new army making such a mess of things, it was all up in the air.
 
“You expect me to join YOU?! Either of you?! FOOLS! I have found a new Master! A better Master! I will not bow to the likes of you, scum! The two of you are the source of all the evils and woes that have plagued our people for so long! You are the cause behind our people’s misery! Today I shall see it done. Today, I shall lay you BOTH to rest!”
 
His daughter was insane. But more than that… Skovald saw flashes of green in Sigryn’s eyes as she spoke with such grandiose vision. The Fel that he’d had her and her brothers drink still rests within her. Could it be? Had she awoken to the power he’d tried to gift her? But then, who was this Master she spoke of? No… Gul’dan…
 
“I know not what the girl speaks of, Skovald. She is not one of mine, nor does she truly belong to the Legion. At least… not yet. Either break her to our will or kill her and be done with it. She is just another obstacle in your path. Do not let yourself be distracted from the true prize.”
 
Skovald frowns at that. It’s hard to follow Gul’dan’s will, especially when his daughter is right there. Blaming him for all their people’s woes? Tch, he has done nothing but try to make their people stronger! It’s only right that she also blames Odyn for HIS failures, but to lump them together…
 
The Titan Keeper rumbles as he seems to feel the exact same way about being compared to Skovald.
 
“I see now. The Fel has reached you too. You are corrupted, and your Masters in the Burning Legion will use you to their own ends. So be it. Both father and daughter shall die here today, and the Line of Skovald should end… as was my original intention.”
 
Skovald’s eyes widen at that, the God-King only just now learning that Odyn had been the one to send those assassins after his family. However, it’s clear that Sigryn already knows, because the younger Vrykul doesn’t even hesitate to let out a roar of rage and launch herself at Odyn, clearly intending to carve out his remaining eye with her axe.
 
Even as Odyn casually bats her aside, Sigryn rises still strong and able to fight, showing that his daughter has indeed found her own source of power. No matter… in the end, Skovald will not allow anyone to stop him from accomplishing his goals. HE is the God-King of the Felskorn, and with the Legion’s backing, he WILL raise their people to greater heights than ever before!
 
Unfortunately, he can tell that Odyn is aware of his desire to reach the Aegis now. And Sigryn isn’t powerful enough to distract the Titan Keeper by herself. The plan must change. Together, Skovald and Sigryn will have to kill or at least disable Odyn… and from there, Skovald will do whatever must be done.
 
Unfortunately, this plan doesn’t exactly survive first contact with the enemy. The moment he tries to assist Sigryn in fighting Odyn, his daughter is quick to lash out at him, the opportunistic little bitch nearly taking off one of his arms. Things rapidly devolve from there into a full-blown three-way melee, all while their forces continue to fight and slaughter each other all around them.
 
-x-X-x-
 
She’s not strong enough. It’s both galling and horrifying to realize this simple truth. She, Sigryn, Cock-Queen of the Tideskorn, is not strong enough to defeat either her father or Odyn. If this was a one-on-one fight with either of them, she would likely already be dead. Indeed, the only reason that neither of them have already slain her is that it would require their full focus to end her life. Otherwise, she can heal from almost any injury they deal her.
 
But because they’re just as focused on each other as they are on her, they have not been able to kill her quite yet. Unfortunately, in turn, Sigryn finds that she cannot kill them.
 
It had felt good, arriving as she did with the forces at her back. She hadn’t liked that she couldn’t declare the name of her true Master, or her true title… but she knew better than to declare herself Cock-Queen in front of anyone but her fellow Cock-Maidens. The rest of the Tideskorn wouldn’t understand, and if she was going to lead her people in Harry’s name, then she needed to keep them unified together.
 
That all said, she was here to do away with Odyn… and had stumbled upon her father making a fool of himself as well. It had seemed quite serendipitous to Sigryn at first. Two birds with one stone. Unfortunately, her stone was not big enough to deal with even one of these birds, let alone both.
 
Odyn, for all that Helya had cursed him, was still too powerful for Sigryn alone to kill, even though that was what she wanted to do more than anything right now. Meanwhile, Skovald was empowered by the Legion, and his experience far outweighed Sigryn’s own.
 
The two men were both her betters, and Sigryn was forced to accept that fact and play a role of defense while looking for openings. Luckily, their own differences were irreconcilable, for if they had chosen to team up and deal with HER for even a moment, she would have died on the spot and there would have been no helping it.
 
But that was never going to happen. Odyn was never going to work with a servant of the Burning Legion like Skovald, and Skovald wanted the Titan Keeper’s armament. He wanted the Aegis of Aggramar for his Legion Masters.
 
Recognizing this, Sigryn ignores her father’s constant attempts to get her over to his side. Indeed, it seems like every few minutes or so, Skovald tries to convince her to join him, to set down her self-proclaimed title of God-Queen and fight by his side as father and daughter. She might even have been tempted if not for Harry. If not for her beloved Master.
 
Little did Skovald know that her title was not in fact God-Queen, but Cock-Queen. Little did he know that Sigryn had found a new source of power in her worship for Harry Potter.
 
Though… even as she fights, she feels something restless inside of her. The young Cock-Queen can’t even really describe it. Only that… there’s something in her, buried deep, that wants out. She pushes it back down of course, not giving in. Her body isn’t hers; it belongs to Harry. She’ll speak to her Master about this strange feeling at the next possible chance and that is that.
 
Of course, that’s only IF she gets a next possible chance to speak to Harry. As the fighting continues, as their three-way melee grows more and more heated and the battle between their three armies grows more and more pitched… Sigryn begins to wonder if she’s made a terrible mistake.
 
Without Harry here to support them… are she and her army doomed to fail? Are they going to die here, broken upon the stalwart defenders of the Halls of Valor and the demonic attackers of the Burning Legion? Surely not… and yet, that feeling stirs within her again.
 
She’s not strong enough. She knows she’s not. She needs… she needs…
 
“Daughter! I can see you starting to falter! Join me! Together we can still defeat Odyn! Together, we can still claim victory!”
 
No! She refuses! Skovald and his masters cannot hold a candle to Harry and his power! Sigryn just needs to have faith. The Cock-Queen refuses to betray her Master so soon after her crowning! She refuses to fall here! Though… she is beginning to regret taking the army and leaving while Harry was momentarily incapacitated. She had thought to seek glory in his name without needing to lean on his power overly much, but here she was… starting to wonder if she would ever be strong enough to bring her beloved Master the glory he deserved.
 
Just as this gloomy thought percolates in Sigryn’s head… things change once more. The ground outside of the Gates of Valor bursts open, specifically beneath Odyn’s Valarjar and Skovald’s Felskorn forces.
 
All heads once again turn… to see a beautiful Titan Keeper standing amidst an army of Helarjar. All of whom rush out and begin fighting Sigryn’s enemies, reinforcing her army of Tideskorn and Val’kyr, much to her surprise and pleasure.
 
“Helya! How?!”
 
Striding forward, the beautiful female Titan-Forged laughs as she struts into the Halls.
 
“How indeed? Did you even stop to wonder for a second why you had not heard nary a whisper from me in so long? In fact, I imagine your knowledge of my machinations would have fallen silent around the same time you lost contact with Eyir, wouldn’t they have? How amusing… that you gave up an eye for the ability to ‘see’, and yet you’ve missed all of the most important happenings these past several weeks.”
 
Helya?! This was Helya?! As she mentions Eyir, Sigryn’s eyes widen and she immediately understands. This was indeed Helya… and she was in league with Harry, wasn’t she? As if to confirm Sigryn’s thoughts, the beautiful Daughter of Odyn turns her gaze in Sigryn’s attention with a warm smile.
 
“Sigryn, my dear… deal with your father for me, will you? While I deal with mine.”
 
Odyn lets out a roar of anger at the disrespect, but Helya responds with a roar of her own, followed by a beam of energy that slams into Odyn, throwing him further back into the Halls. Both Legion and Tideskorn forces surge forward as Odyn and his Valarjar are forced into full retreat. The battle spills out into the Field of Eternal Hunt within the Halls of Valor, and things escalate even further as Helya’s Helarjar provide a much needed boost to Sigryn’s forces, finally allowing them to fight on par with the Hall’s defenders and the Legion Attackers.
 
Half of the Burning Legion’s portals are still open, constantly sending forth demonic reinforcements, even as the little Felskorn left to Skovald’s command fall one by one in battle. Soon enough, the so-called God-King’s only army is demonic in nature. He has not a single Vrykul Warrior left to fight in his name. He’s killed every single one of his people who have followed him into battle with his foolishness.
 
Thankfully, Sigryn cannot say the name. While many of her forces were lost in the immediate charge on the Gates as they forced both attackers and defenders alike to fight them… Sigryn has something that Skovald did not. She as Val’kyr who serve her cause. Mostly because it’s Harry and Eyir’s cause to be specific.
 
As the Burning Legion sends endless tides of demons through their remaining reinforcement portals, Val’kyr in service to Eyir and Odyn duel high above the Field of Eternal Hunt, Odyn’s Val’kyr not quite understanding why Eyir’s Val’kyr are fighting them. This leads to many of them pulling their blows and focusing on resurrecting the Valarjar that serve Odyn, reinforcing the defenders of the Halls of Valor with the literal resurrected dead.
 
Eyir’s Val’kyr are all too happy to play softball with their sisters in the same way, believing that some day soon they will all see the glory in serving Harry as his personal pets. They too spend the majority of their time only half-heartedly dueling in the sky, while mostly just resurrecting Sigryn’s fallen Tideskorn and Kvaldir.
 
It is like an endless battle, with no clear winner. No one has the upper hand here, not when the demons come through their portals endlessly, while the Vrykul forces on both sides are constantly resurrected to fight once more in their respective side’s name. Even Helya’s Helarjar aren’t enough to turn the tide in her and Sigryn’s favor alone, they’re merely enough to reinforce and maintain the third faction’s viability as a potential winner of this startlingly massive battle.
 
Meanwhile, Helya and Odyn are matching Titan Magic against one another, while Sigryn finds herself matching blades with her father. Skovald grits his teeth in anger as they clash with one another. Even now, her father holds back against her, not wanting to outright kill her. But at the same time…
 
“Stand aside, daughter! You may not wish to join me, but you should not impede me any longer! Go and help Helya kill Odyn already! That is why you came here, is it not?! Why must you vex me?! Why must you stand in my way?!”
 
Glaring angrily at her father, unaware that the Fel green is starting to leak out of her eyes more and more, Sigryn growls in anger.
 
“Why? Perhaps because you have taken everything from me, Skovald! Odyn might have given the order, but it was your pursuit of power that saw our family hunted and slaughtered like animals! You tried to turn our people into slaves to the Legion! I refuse to let that happen, and I REFUSE to let you have the Aegis of Aggramar! Helya will take care of her father… and I shall take care of MINE!”
 
Of course, even as she speaks… a small but growing part of her wonders at her ability to put truth to her words. She’s certainly making some large claims right now, but can she truly deal with her father? Can she defeat the God-King Skovald of the Felskorn? He is only powerful because of the Fel Magic that the Legion has imbued him with, but he IS still powerful. Her earlier assumption, that either Skovald or Odyn could easily kill her one-on-one if they weren’t distracted with each other… that hadn’t changed.
 
Indeed, the only thing staying Skovald’s hand right now was their blood relation, and is clear hope that he could still convince her to stand aside. Sigryn knew full well that she was living on borrowed time… but she refused to let her father steal the Aegis of Aggramar and flee this place unopposed. Helya was counting on her to stop him. HARRY was counting on her to stop him. She would not fail! She COULD NOT FAIL! She-
 
“Urk!”
 
Sigryn’s eyes widen, and she finds herself staring into Skovald’s drawn, weathered face as he buries his blade in her chest, the hefty sword protruding out her chest. He’d tilted his head to the side for only a moment as if listening to a voice only he could hear… and then he’d struck faster than she could see. His movements had been blinding in their speed, and now here she was… dying on her father’s blade.
 
“I’m sorry Sigryn… but you shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”
 
He pulls his sword out and Sigryn slumps to her knees as her father moves to step past her. With Helya and Odyn still in pitched battle, he stands unopposed. The path to the Aegis of Aggramar is now open to him, leaving the God-King able to finally take his prize.
 
Only… before he can properly reach for it, a hand grabs hold of his boot and stops him in his tracks. Turning in disbelief, the God-King Skovald witnesses his dying daughter snarling as she glares up at him, pulling on his foot. Before he can wind up to kick her away however, he sees something that makes him step back. The blood pouring from Sigryn’s mouth turns green… and her eyes ignite in a fury as the spark that had been blazing within her finally turns into a full-blown bonfire.
 
The Fel Magic that Skovald had fed his children all that time ago explodes out of Sigryn with massive force in her dying moments. Her lifeblood, which had been staining her chin and her front, suddenly flashes and burns up, turning into Fel Armaments of demonic power. As she rises to her feet, Skovald finds himself facing down a warrior covered in Fel Armor and wielding a Fel Sword. The blow to her chest has become a spiraling crater lined with glowing green magic, even as a helmet of Fel spikes covers her features.
 
Finally, she straightens to her full height… and to the God-King’s shock, he finds his daughter is now a full head taller than him as she towers over him.
 
“God-King. Pah! All I see is a PUNY excuse for a GOD!”
 
With that vicious, monstrous roar, the new, Fel-Empowered Sigryn swings her blade at her father, and it’s all he can do to lift his shield and block as he’s subsequently driven backwards by the blow. Suddenly, the situation has changed dramatically… and so have the stakes.
 
-x-X-x-
 
It’s been a while since Harry actually got any length of uninterrupted sleep. In fact, as he slowly wakes up, groaning and stretching with a smile gracing his face, the wizard finds himself unable to remember the last time he slept this good. Honestly, he could get used to this kind of thing. It had taken an awful lot to wear him out… but hey, maybe he could set things up in the future to happen the same way.
 
Though, as he lays there… he finds that the place is unusually quiet. His smile slowly turns downwards into a frown, and he opens his eyes after a moment. Staring up at the ceiling of the Vault of Eyir, Harry shifts his shoulders back and forth before finally sitting up and rolling them. He stretches some more, even as he looks around himself to find the place startlingly empty.
 
Ever since he’d invaded the Vault and conquered Eyir, ever since he’d turned her into his woman… the place had been jampacked every single time he’d been inside of it. All sorts of Valkyra and cock-maidens and Val’kyr had constantly been vying for his attention, making the Vault of Eyir look like some sort of fantasy all day, all night frat party or something.
 
But for the first time… the place was damn near emptied out. Looking around, Harry couldn’t help but wonder where everyone went.
 
“My lord…”
 
Blinking, Harry looks back over his shoulder to realize that his ‘bed’ was in fact Eyir. She was still here at least, the golden-skinned Val’kyr Goddess flushing as he gives her his full attention. From the way she wiggles and reaches around to grab his cock, it’s obvious what she wants from him. However, Harry stops her with a frown and a shake of his head.
 
“Where is everyone? Why is the place so empty?”
 
Eyir looks… embarrassed at his question, turning her head to the side.
 
“I apologize, Master. Perhaps I should have awakened you… but you looked so peaceful in your rest.”
 
Harry frowns at that, his eyes narrowing as Eyir dodges the question. Without a second thought, he reaches up and grabs her by her chin, forcing her to look at him.
 
“Eyir. Where. Is. Everybody?”
 
And so she confesses the truth of what Sigryn had done and where she’d rushed off to once he was unconscious. Needless to say, Harry has only one reaction to hearing this news and it’s not the one Eyir wants him to have.
 
In mere minutes, Harry has gathered up those that Sigryn left behind, as well as those who chose to stay behind to guard him. With the remainder of his retinue in the form of Eyir, Bretta, Ashildir, and Iounn at his back, Harry summons his magic to him, conjuring up a set of beautifully ornate robes and flying the whole lot of them over to the Gates of Valor as fast as he possibly can.
 
They arrive to find a scene of utter pandemonium awaits them. Outside of the Gates, the Legion reigns supreme. However, the fact that there were still hundreds of demons flowing out of the portals into the Halls of Valor makes it clear that there is plenty of fighting still going on inside. With that small spark of hope welling in his chest that all was not lost, Harry lets out a shout and in a titanic show of magic, rips the remaining Legion Portals to shreds before doing the same with all of the demonic forces that are still on this side of them.
 
With his retinue defending his advance, Harry’s magic destroys every last stinking demon that it touches, killing the Legion’s forces en masse as he and his girls force their way past the Gates of Valor and into the Halls of Valor properly. There, upon the Field of  Eternal Hunt, Harry sees what has become of things. How the forces of both Odyn and Sigryn have had to resort to continuous resurrections just to keep up with the endless tide of demons.
 
Of course, now that the demons have been defeated for good, the battle should hopefully begin to slow down. That’s Harry’s desire anyways, but instead… instead, Sigryn’s forces turn on Odyn and Odyn’s forces turn on Sigryn, fighting all the harder. Indeed, the Val’kyr dueling in the skies above no longer hold back so much anymore as well, leading to many among their number beginning to die and fall to the ground below.
 
Seeing this, Harry shakes his head in horror and looks to Eyir and the others.
 
“Put a stop to this. Now.”
 
Eyir, Bretta, Ashildir, and Iounn all bow at his order, with Eyir taking to the sky, the golden Goddess of the Val’kyr attracting attention from all of her daughters.
 
“VAL’KYR! CEASE THIS INFIGHTING AT ONCE! ODYN’S REIGN ENDS TODAY! STAND DOWN AND NO LONGER SPILL THE BLOOD OF YOUR SISTERS!”
 
Not all of them actually listen to her, but enough do that the tide begins to slowly turn in the favor of Sigryn… ah, and Helya’s forces. Nodding at this, Harry himself makes his way deeper into the Halls, before finally reaching Odyn’s Throne Room. He arrives in time to see Odyn and Helya fighting one another, Helya in her pure Titan Form, throwing her magic at Odyn as the former Prime Designate snarls and defends himself, fighting her on even footing.
 
However, the two Titan-Forged only manage to hold Harry’s attention for a single moment. In the end, his focus is taken up by the sight of the two much smaller combatants fighting on the other side of the throne room. He arrives just in time to see Sigryn, his self-proclaimed ‘Cock-Queen’, deliver the killing blow to her father, removing Skovald’s head from his shoulders and laying the corrupted God-King to rest once and for all.
 
Harry wishes he could say this sight pleases him, but it’s entirely tempered by the visage of Sigryn, covered in Fel Armor and wielding a Fel Blade. The Fel Magic inside of her has burst free, corrupting her and turning her into something demonic and twisted. The Burning Legion doesn’t have their claws in her quite yet, but if she’s allowed to stay this way, they’ll eventually sink their teeth into her, whispering in her ear until she submits for more of their power.
 
“SIGRYN!”
 
Flying down to her, Harry lands a dozen feet away from the hulking, armored woman. Her head twists to him as he looks at her in horror.
 
“You must fight it! You can still reverse the corruption! You can still force it out, but you have to WANT to force it out!”
 
With a snarl, Sigryn raises her sword.
 
“I AM THE MASTER’S COCK-QUEEN! YOU WILL DIE BEFORE ME, GNAT!”
 
She doesn’t recognize him. She doesn’t know who he is at this moment. The Fel is twisting her senses, turning her into a mindless, feral beast. As she swings at him, as she tries to skewer him, Harry dodges her blows and deflects with his magic what he can’t dodge. However, he can feel the Fel Corruption of her sword eroding his magic defenses every time he’s forced to deflect her. He has to get through to her, or he has to kill her. One or the other.
 
“This is not who you are, Sigryn! You must fight it! You must fight the grasp of the Fel!”
 
He won’t kill her. He REFUSES to kill her. Instead, Harry pulls a Hail Mary. Gathering his magic up around himself in as tight a cocoon as he can manage, turning every last ounce of it towards protection, he lunges forward. Moving INTO her guard, he dodges her latest wild swing and grabs onto the spikes coming off her helmet, yanking her down so that his emerald gaze can meet her sickly green glowing eyes through the helm’s visor.
 
In this position, she can attack him and destroy his magic shields, harming him directly if she wishes… but Harry doesn’t care. Looking into her eyes, Harry growls.
 
“It’s me, Sigryn! It’s your Master! And I swear, I will NEVER abandon you! I will not let the Legion have you! I will not let the Fel consume you! But you MUST fight it! Fight with me! Fight for your freedom, for your PEOPLE Sigryn!”
 
Rather than strike at him in this uniquely vulnerable state, Sigryn freezes up, a flicker of life appearing in her sickly green gaze. Then, barely a whisper emerges from her lips.
 
“For… Harry…”
 
Harry can only blush as the Fel Armor and Fel Blade both explode into shards, peppering his shield but not harming him. Meanwhile, Sigryn lets out a cry as she dispels the Fel from herself, forcing it from her body. Now that she’s chosen to fight it, Harry can help her directly. Using his magic, he pushes all of the Fel from her veins, forcing it out of her blood. Sigryn gasps, falling to her knees. To Harry’s horror, she’s left with a gaping chest wound where a sword impaled her all the way through. Luckily, he’s able to quickly heal her, making her right as rain in seconds with his magic.
 
“M-Master Harry. I’m sorry… I’m so sor-mmph!”
 
He silences her with a kiss, making sure to apply plenty of tongue as he dominates her mouth for a moment before pulling back and smiling at her. With a shake of his head, Harry chuckles throatily.
 
“Nothing to apologize for, Sigryn. No harm, no foul. The Fel is gone now… your choices from this moment on will be your own my… heh, Cock-Queen.”
 
Sigryn looks like she wants to jump his bones right then and there. But just like back at the Vault with Eyir, Harry shakes his head, gently rebuking her.
 
“Now is not the time, my dear.”
 
Straightening up, he turns to face their last adversary. Odyn and Helya are still locked in a hellish looking battle. The two Titan-Forged are throwing around magic that almost no mortal on Azeroth could possibly lay claim to. Harry himself is amazed at some of the things they’re showing themselves capable of. Father and Daughter are startlingly evenly matched too, fighting back and forth across Odyn’s Throne Room.
 
Truth be told, Harry isn’t eager to charge forward or have Sigryn send their forces to fight Odyn alongside Helya. While it will almost certainly work and give Helya the opening she needs to defeat Odyn once and for all… the loss of life will be catastrophic in the meantime. The magic that Odyn is capable of tossing around is… a lot.
 
But just as Harry finds himself torn about what to do, he feels his mind filling with whispers. Whispers that leave him twitching, his eyes closing for a moment as he frowns. This time, he recognizes the whispers for what they are… that they are not of his mind. Or at least, not solely of his mind.
 
Alas, just because he recognizes them… doesn’t mean he can stop what happens next. Suddenly, the Elder Wand is in his hand. And with a loud cry, Harry finds himself casting from it against his will. The Curse that explodes out of the wand is a ghastly, dangerous looking thing, and as it flies through the air, Harry fears for a moment that it will hit Helya instead of Odyn.
 
… But no, the Curse, a Curse of Flesh, flies true. Striking the former Prime Designate in the back, it spreads throughout his body, turning him into a mortal man, weakening him dramatically as he lets out a roar of rage and fury, shrinking on the spot.
 
“WHO DARES?! WHO DARES TO CURSE THE ALL-FATHER WITH SUCH MAGIC?!”
 
Harry grimaces, the Elder Wand bucking in his hand as Odyn immediately begins trying to fight off the Curse of Flesh. He might not have intended to cast it, but now that he has, Harry forces himself to hold the Curse in place for as long as he possibly can, even as his magical power drains at a dramatically fast pace to do so.
 
But before Odyn can break free, Helya gets over her shock at seeing her father reduced to such a state. With a cackle, the Titan-Forged reaches out with her magic, grinning wickedly.
 
“I see you’ve met my new beloved, Father. I do so hope you approve of him~”
 
Before Odyn gets a chance to reply, Helya’s magic takes hold… and locks the Curse of Flesh in place while at the same time binding Odyn physically, keeping him from escaping or doing anything to try and flee his new, humiliating circumstances. Harry lets out a sigh of relief as Helya tosses the defeated, bound, beaten All-Father through a portal almost contemptuously, before running her hands through her hair and letting out a sigh of relief.
 
“It is done.”
 
Yes… yes it was. Indeed, Helya’s words prove rather prophetic as Eyir and the others enter the Throne Room a moment later, the fighting outside having also been settled in their favor. Odyn was defeated once and for all… and all that was left was his throne.
 
“Harry, you must take his place! You are the only one worthy of it!”
 
Eyir’s reverent plea is matched by all of the others, with Helya being the only one to merely watch and not speak. Harry though… Harry shakes his head.
 
“I cannot. I will not. I… I’m no King. And I will not sit upon a throne and pass judgment or rule over others as though I am. That is not my place.”
 
Harry’s tone is final and brooks no arguments, but there’s certainly a great number of glances exchanged between all of the women in the throne room with him. Not his place? None of them agreed with that, to be honest. He might not be a King… but he was their God. Regardless, Harry doesn’t notice these looks, as he’s too busy gesturing to Helya.
 
“Instead, I suggest Helya take the throne. It would only be fitting punishment for Odyn to lose his seat to the daughter he so callously threw away. She deserves it far more than me.”
 
Before anyone else can make their opinions on that heard however, Helya scoffs and shakes her head in disagreement.
 
“I will not take the throne. I have no love for these Halls. I see no benefit in staying in a place like this. Especially when your help has made my Helheim a place I can be satisfied to rule over… and given me back my form. I must decline your generous offer. I will not take my father’s place.”
 
Harry frowns at that, not expecting Helya to turn down such power and authority. But he supposes it makes sense. She already has everything she could possibly want. And yet… the throne still needed to be claimed. For a long moment, Harry looks around… before letting out a sigh.
 
He’d chosen Helya because she wasn’t nearly as submissive to him as Eyir… but now, it would seem he has no choice. Turning to the golden-skinned Goddess of the Val’kyr, Harry points at her.
 
“Then you will take Odyn’s throne, Eyir. You will work WITH Helya in order to manage the souls of the Vrykul and make sure every last one of them receives the justice they deserve. Understood?”
 
Eyir smiles and bows at the waist.
 
“Of course, Master. I promise I will do you proud.”
 
Harry nods and turns away, happy to be able to wash his hands clean of this whole mess. He’s gone and done what he sought out to do, after all. It was done.
 
Of course, unbeknownst to him, both Eyir and Helya exchange a glance with one another… silently agreeing to serve and work to further Harry’s goals in whatever way they possibly can, even if he doesn’t know they’re doing it. In the end, he is the only man either of them can ever see themselves loving or worshipping… and so they will make sure to support him in whatever way they can… till the end of time itself.

-x-X-x-

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