Teya turned her head my way, clearly unsure how to respond to Ingvar's unexpected praise and invitation. I decided to take control of the situation before it spiraled any further. Perhaps there was no need to murder this hero as he didn’t seem to be fully in on the Gygr’s dark plot as Bobliss had been.

"Jarl Ingvar," I said, "I believe there's been a misunderstanding. We are not your enemies, nor have we stolen anything. The stone you seek, the Galdrasteinn, is not a possession to be owned or traded. It's a living entity, with its own will and desires."

Ingvar's eyes narrowed. "Nonsense! The Galdrasteinn is a sacred relic, an artefact of the gods to be wielded by the worthy. It cannot have a will of its own."

I shook my head. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. The being you call Galdrasteinn is right here." I gestured to Teya. "This is Teya, the spirit of the river Glinka. She chose to come with us of her own free will."

Ingvar's face contorted with disbelief. "You dare mock me with such bold lies? The river spirit cannot take human form!"

"And yet, here she is," I replied calmly. "Teya, would you mind demonstrating?"

At my words, Teya put her bow down and raised her hand. The river around us surged, forming a massive watery hand that rose from the surface. It waved at Ingvar, replicating Teya’s finger motions exactly.

Ingvar blinked at the fist. "Impossible," he uttered.

I pressed on, sensing an opportunity. "Jarl Ingvar, you've been deceived. The being you call Freyja is not a goddess, but a Gygr - a dark witch who seeks to use you and the river for her own nefarious purposes. She sent you here based on false pretenses."

Ingvar's expression clouded with anger. "You lie! Freyja is our saviour, her wisdom beyond question!"

"Then why did she send you to attack the very being you seek to protect?" I countered. "Think, Jarl Ingvar. Why would a true goddess ask you to harm the spirit of a sacred river?"

Ingvar opened and closed his mouth. I could see the mental gears in his head turning as he squinted at me.

“This is deception,” he said. “You are a trickster, the enemy of Freyja, one who has stolen the divine stone!”

“Drrrrrroooo-nttttt,” Stormy growled as Teya raised another hand in the air, forming another water fist on the left side of Ingvar.

“River Glinka says if you keep bothering her, she will squash you as she squashed Bobliss and his men for attempting to besmirch the blessed stone,” I said.

“You… you cannot speak for the sacred river!” Jarl Ingvar boomed, blood wings unfolding. “You’re just a lowborn that gained power through unnatural means, made a pact with the void… a murderer most foul!”

“I’m no mere murderer,” I said. “I’m the last survivor of Svalbard.”

“No mere human would have a talking cat on their shoulder!” Ingvar barked. “That is clearly dark magic!”

I watched as blood wings fluttered behind him, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. It was clear that my words had affected him somewhat, but he wasn't ready to let go of his beliefs just yet.

"You twist the truth to suit your needs," Ingvar spat, "I saw the Jotuns with my own sharp eyes, behind these cliffs, flooding what remained of Svalbard. How do you explain that, blackguard? You have clearly sold your soul to Nox and gained unnatural powers unbefitting a man of honor! You cannot deceive me, tainted one!”

I sighed, realizing that reasoning with him might be impossible.

"Jarl Ingvar, I understand your suspicion, but I assure you, we are not your enemies. As for the Jotuns, they were not mine. They were sent by the Gygr of Chernobog. She wants to bind Glinka with dark magic and use her power for her own ends. We were fleeing from those monsters, not commanding them."

"You speak with a silver tongue, blackguard," Ingvar growled. “It is you who have made a pact with the Gygr and then your companion must have made a blood-wish on the Galdrasteinn to manifest these… watery hands. You expect me to believe that Freyja, the divine goddess of love and beauty is a dark witch? That she commands an army of monsters? Enough of your lies! I will not be swayed by your deceit. Prepare to face justice, villains!"

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Just as Ingvar formed a blood sword in his hand, Teya clapped her hands obliterating the man as if he were a mosquito.

Ingvar's body, crushed by Teya's watery hands, dissolved into a fine mist of blood droplets, splattering across the deck and air. The crimson cloud hung in the air for a moment, suspended like a gruesome work of art. Then, it began to move backwards as if reality was playing in reverse.

The droplets danced and swirled, taking off the deck and forming intricate patterns reminiscent of a swarm of flies. They spiraled upwards, coalescing and separating in a hypnotic display of fluid dynamics. The sight was a stark reminder of the unnatural power that coursed through the veins of a hero.

As the blood continued its aerial ballet, I could make out shapes forming within the crimson mist. First, a skeletal structure materialized, then muscles and organs began to take shape around it. It was like watching a time-lapse of human evolution, compressed into mere seconds.

The swarm of blood droplets moved with purpose, each tiny sphere finding its place in the reforming body. Ingvar's features slowly became distinguishable - his proud nose, his determined jaw, his piercing eyes. The blood wings were the last to form, unfurling from his back like a crimson butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

“You…” the hero began and Teya let her arrow lose. The ferronite arrow went through the man’s head punching right through his skull. A detonation of blood floated in the air for a split second and then began to fill the hole up. I watched, transfixed, as Ingvar's features knitted themselves back together, erasing any trace of the devastating arrow that had just pierced his head.

"You dare attack a Champion of Freyja?" Ingvar roared, his voice resonating with newfound fury.

I gritted my teeth, realizing that conventional methods weren't going to work against this foe. Ingvar's regenerative abilities were different from Bobliss's immovability, but still quite potent.

"Teya," I called out, "we need to immobilize him. Can you trap him in a sphere of water?"

Before Teya could respond, Ingvar lunged forward, his blood sword materializing in his hand. I barely had time to raise my rifle before he was upon us, the blade singing through the air with deadly precision.

Teya's massive canine iron-clad paw swung out, intercepting the blow. The clash of metal on metal rang out across the river, sparks flying as the blood sword met the dragonglass-infused claws.

I took advantage of the momentary distraction to fire my rifle, aiming for Ingvar's chest. The dragonglass pellets tore through his body, creating a spray of crimson mist.

"Your mortal weapons cannot harm me, villain!" Ingvar sneered, his wings unfurling to their full span. "I was made by Freyja herself from the ruins of my village hundreds of years ago, made immortal!”

As he spoke, I noticed something peculiar. Each time Ingvar regenerated, there was a brief flicker of... something. A pattern, barely visible, that seemed to guide the reformation of his body. It reminded me of the syntropic crystals I had observed in Bobliss's blood.

An idea began to form in my mind. If we couldn't destroy Ingvar's body, perhaps we could disrupt the pattern that allowed him to reform.

"Teya," I shouted, "on my signal, hit him with everything you've got. Water, arrows, everything!"

Teya nodded. I reached into my pack, pulling out a vial of powdered dragonglass mixed with the crushed remains of Cali's star shard.

As Ingvar prepared for another assault, I uncorked the vial. "Now, Teya!"

The river erupted around us, massive tendrils of water lashing out at Ingvar, puncturing holes in his body. At the same time, Teya loosed another arrow which punched right through the hero’s neck, sending his head lolling off to the side.

Then, with a swing of oversized dogpaws, she sliced through the man’s body, sending a spray of crimson in the air.

I threw the vial at the hero, the vial detonated against him, the powder sparkling in the air, catching the light like a cloud of deadly glitter.

Ingvar's body, torn apart by Teya's assault, began to reform. But as the powder settled on his regenerating form, something changed. The smooth process of reformation stuttered, the blood droplets swirling in confused patterns.

"What... what have you done, villain?" Ingvar gasped, his partially reformed face contorting in pain and irritation as he wasn’t fully reforming.

Teya grabbed the hero with a watery hand and moved him off to the side. She squeezed the life out of him, holding him directly above the barrel occupied by Bobliss, mixing the two heroes together. The grinding intensified its spin. The magic of the two heroes didn’t seem to jive well together, grating against each other. Both Bobliss sphere and blood-ring of Ingvar seemed to weaken each other slightly as they mixed in the barrel.

“Phew. That takes care of tha…” I began, looking at the dissolving and reforming heroes entwined in a spiral of water.

Thunder resounded in the sky. I looked up, spotting a flying golden chariot.

The chariot appeared to be propelled forward by pegasus formed entirely from blood. A man in a red cape and lavish gold armor stood inside it, wielding a spear of blood.

"Mrawu-myaw!" Stormy commented.

“Ah come on, give me a freaking break,” I ground out just as the man threw the spear of blood at my head, the motion of his throw producing another thunderously deafening detonation.