While Thrym frantically searched for the real Loki, the true Loki (hidden among the illusions) worked methodically. Every movement Thrym made, every step, every strike—Loki studied it, learned it, calculated.
And then he saw the opening.
Thrym favored his right side. An old injury, perhaps, or simply habit. But it meant his left side was a momentary blind spot when he attacked.
Loki waited. Patience. Timing. It was all about timing.
Thrym charged again, this time toward two of the illusions simultaneously.
And Loki attacked.
The real Loki appeared on Thrym's left side, his dagger glowing with green magic. He didn't try to stab—that would be useless against the giant's thick ice skin. Instead, he channeled magic directly through the dagger into the ground.
The ice beneath Thrym exploded upward into sharp spikes, aimed not to wound but to restrain. The spikes wrapped around Thrym's legs, immobilizing him momentarily.
Loki didn't waste time. He ran up Thrym's arm as if it were a ramp, his light feet barely touching it. In the fraction of a second before Thrym could react, Loki placed his hand on the giant's forehead.
And released all the magic he had been building.
It wasn't a brute-force attack. It was pure deception.
Thrym's mind was bombarded with illusions—a thousand versions of Loki attacking from every direction, the ground melting beneath his feet, the sky collapsing. None of them real, but all of them felt real.
Thrym roared, his hands striking at the air, fighting enemies that didn't exist. He shattered the ice binding his legs, but it didn't matter—he was completely disoriented.
Loki landed gracefully on the ground, watching as Thrym destroyed himself by striking at shadows.
Finally, after nearly a minute of self-inflicted chaos, Thrym collapsed to his knees, panting, completely exhausted.
Loki approached calmly, dagger in hand but not threatening. He stopped in front of the fallen giant.
"I yield," Thrym panted, defeat clear in his voice.
Silence fell over the amphitheater.
Then, slowly, some of the Jotuns began striking their spears against the ground—the Jotun equivalent of applause. Not all, but enough.
"He didn't fight like a Jotun," one muttered.
"He used his brain," said another with approval.
"Not with honor," growled a third. "With tricks."
But Ymir stepped forward, a small smile on his ancient face.
"The victory goes to the winner, regardless of method. Loki has passed the second trial."
He looked directly at Loki.
"You proved that although you do not have the strength of a true Jotun, you have the cunning our ancestors valued. Before we became nothing but brutes, we were strategists. You remind us of that."
Loki nodded, breathing heavily. The extensive use of magic had drained him, but he had won.
Vidar and Hela descended from the stands.
"Well done," Vidar said with genuine pride.
"I admit," Hela added, "that was smarter than I expected. Almost as twisted as something I would do."
Loki smiled weakly, but before he could reply, Ymir spoke again.
"The final trial will be in three days. That gives you time to recover."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Loki, Vidar, and Hela could hear.
"It also gives you time to consider certain… opportunities that may present themselves."
Loki frowned.
"What do you mean?"
But Ymir was already walking away, leaving the implication hanging in the air.
That night, Loki was alone in the ice chamber when he heard a soft knock at the door.
"Enter."
The door opened, revealing three Jotuns Loki did not recognize. They were smaller than most—probably around Laufey's size—and wore clothing that suggested noble status.
"Loki Laufeyson," said the leader, a woman with particularly intricate patterns on her skin. "I am Járnsaxa, counselor of the council of elders. These are Helblindi and Býleistr."
Loki sat up straighter, his survival instincts activating. This was not a social visit.
"What do you want?"
Járnsaxa smiled—a smile that did not reach her red eyes.
"To be direct. We saw your combat today. You were… impressive. Cunning. Strategic. Exactly the kind of leader Jotunheim needs."