The morning mist still clung to the fields when Harry and Hela heard the distinct, rhythmic drumming of the warning horns echoing across the village. Villagers began to run toward their homes, ushering children inside, while warriors armed themselves and gathered in the village square. It was clear that another raid was imminent, and this time it seemed larger than any Harry and Hela had experienced since their arrival.

Bjorn, the village chief, came rushing towards Harry and Hela’s cottage, his expression grim. "The space pirates are back," he announced breathlessly. "They’ve brought more this time—there are reports of several ships spotted near the outskirts. They will be here by sundown."

Harry exchanged a glance with Hela. "How many?" he asked, his tone calm but serious.

"At least three ships," Bjorn replied. "They are carrying more raiders than we’ve ever faced before. We sent word to nearby settlements, but I fear we may have to stand alone until reinforcements arrive."

Hela's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, and her lips curved into a smirk. "Sounds like they brought more to loot this time," she said, her voice edged with excitement.

Harry sighed, though he couldn't help but smile at her eagerness. "We'll help," he promised Bjorn, resting a reassuring hand on the older man’s shoulder. "We have fought against worse in our time."

Bjorn looked visibly relieved, clasping Harry’s arm. "Thank you, Haraldin. The village is stronger with you and Helena by our side."

As the chief hurried off to organize his men, Harry turned to Hela. "We should be cautious," he warned. "No showing off."

She raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Me? Show off?"

"You know what I mean," he replied with a chuckle, giving her a look that spoke volumes. "We want to help, but we don’t want to draw too much attention. Let’s keep our powers to what would be expected from ordinary warriors."

Hela sighed dramatically, but there was a spark of mischief in her eyes. "Fine. I promise not to raise an army of the dead… this time."

Harry rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t suppress his grin. "Let’s go prepare."

The sun had dipped below the horizon when the first of the raiders' ships appeared in the sky. They were massive, metal behemoths, descending from the heavens like birds of prey. The village warriors formed a defensive line, shields raised and weapons drawn, as the raiders landed on the outskirts and began to pour out of the ships. There were various races among them: humanoid beings with reptilian scales, creatures with tusks and glowing red eyes, and some that seemed to be composed entirely of metallic fragments.

Harry stood in the front lines beside Bjorn and the other warriors, his wand cleverly disguised as a staff, while Hela remained a step behind him, swords at the ready.

The first wave of raiders charged, screaming war cries in languages that Harry couldn’t recognize. But he didn’t need to understand them to know their intentions. He met the first raider head-on, using his staff to block a downward swing, and then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he sent the attacker sprawling backward with a well-placed stunning spell disguised as a simple shove.

The clash of steel against steel filled the air, and for a while, it seemed as if the villagers might be overwhelmed. But Harry moved with a fluidity that bordered on the unnatural, his movements precise and unyielding. When a raider came at him with a blade, he dodged effortlessly, countering with a strike to the back of the knee. He never used more force than necessary, preferring to incapacitate rather than kill.

Hela, however, was a different story. She fought like a force of nature, her enchanted blades slicing through the raiders with ruthless efficiency. Her eyes blazed with a fierce light, and though she kept her more formidable abilities restrained, it was clear that she was not someone to be trifled with. Any raider who dared to approach her was met with swift, brutal retribution.

In the midst of the chaos, Harry spotted a group of raiders trying to flank the villagers, their sights set on the unprotected homes. He reacted instantly, calling out to Bjorn, "They’re circling around! Protect the village!"

Bjorn nodded, barking orders to his men to fall back and guard the women and children. But there were too many raiders, and Harry knew that they wouldn’t be able to cover all the ground in time. Thinking quickly, he thrust his staff into the earth, muttering a string of incantations under his breath. From the point where his staff touched the ground, vines began to sprout, thick and twisted, growing rapidly until they formed a living barrier between the raiders and the villagers.

"How did you do that?" one of the warriors asked, wide-eyed with amazement.

Harry just offered a grin. "Asgardian magic," he said, hoping they would accept the explanation.

Meanwhile, Hela spotted the leader of the raiders, a towering figure with jagged armor and a helmet that covered most of his face. He was issuing orders to his men, gesturing towards the villagers’ defensive line. "That one," Hela said to Harry, pointing with one of her swords. "We take him down, the others might scatter."

"Right," Harry agreed. "I’ll draw his attention. You take him out."

Harry approached the leader, who watched him with an air of arrogance. "You think you can stop us, Asgardian?" the leader taunted, brandishing a massive, serrated blade.

Harry smirked. "I’ve taken down bigger threats than you," he replied confidently.

The leader snarled and lunged at Harry, his blade coming down in a powerful arc. Harry sidestepped the attack, parrying with his staff and using the momentum to twist around, landing a sharp kick to the leader’s side. The raider stumbled but recovered quickly, launching a series of rapid strikes that Harry deftly blocked.

In the middle of the fight, the leader suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening in shock. Behind him stood Hela, her blade buried deep in his back. She leaned in, whispering something in his ear before pulling the blade free with a swift, practiced motion. The leader crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

"Nice timing," Harry said, slightly out of breath.

Hela shrugged. "You looked like you were having fun, so I thought I’d give you a moment."

With their leader dead, the remaining raiders began to hesitate. The villagers, emboldened by Harry and Hela’s display of strength, pressed the attack, driving the raiders back until they broke ranks and fled to their ships, leaving behind their fallen comrades and any hope of victory.

As the villagers cheered and celebrated, Harry and Hela exchanged a glance. They had managed to keep their powers mostly hidden, but it was clear that they had made an impression. Bjorn approached them, his eyes shining with gratitude. "We owe you our lives," he said earnestly. "Your bravery saved us all."

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Harry waved a hand dismissively. "You would have done the same for us," he replied.

"But still, thank you," Bjorn insisted, clasping Harry’s arm. "Vanaheim is honored to count you among us."

As the celebration began and the villagers tended to their wounded, Harry and Hela stood off to the side, watching. "So," Hela said, leaning closer to him, "how long do you think before they realize we’re not exactly normal?"

Harry chuckled. "Let’s hope not for a very long time," he replied, pulling her close. "For now, we’ll just enjoy this."

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the village square as the magic users gathered around Harry. The recent attack by space pirates had left a sense of urgency in the air, and the usually cheerful faces of the villagers were now etched with lines of worry.

"Everyone," Harry called out, raising his voice to address the crowd. His eyes scanned the faces of the magic users, the elders, and even the young children who had gathered to hear him speak. "We need to set up protective wards around the village. These wards will be our first line of defense against the raiders. They will help keep our families safe, and they will make sure that no one else suffers from these attacks again."

The crowd murmured in agreement, and an elderly magic user named Seidr stepped forward. He was the most experienced practitioner in the village, with a long white beard that flowed down to his chest and eyes that sparkled with wisdom. He nodded thoughtfully. "What do you require for these wards, young Haraldin?" he asked, addressing Harry by the alias he used in this world.

"We need wardstones," Harry replied. "They are the foundation of any strong warding spell. Without them, our defenses will be weak."

"Ah, wardstones," Seidr said, stroking his beard. "A rare and precious resource. There is only one place I know of where we can find them in abundance—a mine located far from here, near the mountains. It's a place where the magic of the land runs deep, infusing the very rocks with power."

The villagers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of hope and uncertainty. "It's a long journey," one of the younger magic users said hesitantly. "And dangerous. There are wild beasts in those mountains, and the raiders could return at any moment."

Harry nodded. "I know it's risky, but if we don’t protect ourselves, the attacks will continue. We need those wardstones, not just for this village but for all the surrounding settlements as well. I promise you, this journey will be worth it."

A voice from the back of the crowd spoke up. "I'll go," said a burly man with a scar running across his face. "If it means my family will be safe, then I'm in."

One by one, others began to step forward, volunteering to join the expedition. Bjorn, the village chief, placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "We’re with you, Haraldin," he said, his voice full of conviction. "You've shown us kindness and strength since you arrived. It's only right that we stand with you now."

Harry felt a swell of gratitude. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "Together, we can make this happen."

The following morning, as the sun began to rise, Harry and Hela led a large group of villagers and magic users out of the village. Their journey was long, stretching over several days, but their spirits remained high. The camaraderie among them grew as they shared stories around campfires, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on their faces.

Hela walked beside Harry, her expression one of bemusement. "I must say," she drawled, "I never thought I'd be mining rocks with villagers in a distant realm."

Harry grinned. "Who would have thought, right? But there's something about this… about helping people who have nothing to offer but their trust. It feels right."

Hela rolled her eyes, but there was a softness in her gaze. "You and your bleeding heart. It’s a wonder you haven’t taken in every stray and orphan in the realms."

"Give me time," Harry joked, nudging her playfully.

After several days of travel, they finally arrived at the entrance to the wardstone mine. The sight before them took their breath away. The mine was nestled within a valley, surrounded by towering cliffs that shimmered with an ethereal light. Crystals of all shapes and sizes jutted out from the rock face, glowing with a soft, magical aura that bathed the entire area in a warm, inviting glow.

"By the gods," whispered one of the villagers. "It's beautiful."

"Yes," Seidr said, his voice filled with reverence. "This place is ancient, touched by the magic of the earth itself. The wardstones here have absorbed that power over millennia. They will make our village impenetrable."

Harry approached the nearest crystal, running his hand over its smooth surface. A tingling sensation spread through his fingers, and he could feel the latent magic pulsing within. "These are perfect," he said. "But we’ll need a lot of them."

"Then let’s get to work," Bjorn said, clapping his hands together. "We’ve got a village to protect."

The villagers and magic users quickly set about mining the wardstones. The sound of picks striking rock echoed through the cavern, accompanied by the laughter and chatter of the group. Harry worked alongside them, his muscles straining as he chipped away at the stone, sweat dripping down his brow.

"Why don’t you use your magic?" Hela asked, leaning casually against a rock, watching him work with a smirk on her face.

"Because," Harry said, pausing to catch his breath, "it’s not about showing off. This is about working together, as equals."

Hela raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that you’re not like them, right? You’re capable of so much more."

"Maybe," Harry replied with a shrug. "But that doesn't mean I have to act like it. Sometimes, being a part of something means putting aside what makes you different."

Hela considered his words for a moment before shaking her head with a small smile. "You’re a strange man, Haraldin Peverell."

As the hours passed, the group had gathered a substantial pile of wardstones. Harry stood back, admiring their work, when a commotion broke out near the entrance of the mine. He turned to see a group of villagers from neighboring settlements approaching, their faces etched with worry and fear.

"What’s going on?" Harry asked, moving to intercept them.

One of the men stepped forward, panting heavily. "The raiders… they’re back. They followed us here!"

The air grew thick with tension as the villagers exchanged nervous glances. "They must have seen us leave the village," Seidr said grimly. "They knew we’d be vulnerable out here."

Harry felt his heart rate quicken, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Everyone, inside the mine!" he ordered. "Take the wardstones and find cover. We’ll hold them off."

As the villagers scrambled to gather their tools and supplies, Harry and Hela moved to the entrance, standing shoulder to shoulder. The sound of engines grew louder, and soon, the raiders' ships descended from the sky, their metallic hulls gleaming in the fading light.

"Well," Hela said, cracking her knuckles, "it looks like we’re in for a bit of fun."

Harry’s lips curved into a grin. "Just like last day," he agreed.

The raiders emerged from their ships, weapons drawn and eyes filled with greed. They were a motley crew of different races, some humanoid, others monstrous, but all of them exuded an air of menace.

"Listen up!" one of the raiders shouted, stepping forward with a sneer. "Hand over whatever you’ve got in that mine, and maybe we’ll let you live."

Harry stepped forward, his wand slipping into his hand, though he kept it concealed beneath his cloak. "I'm afraid that's not going to happen," he said, his voice calm but firm. "This mine and everything in it belong to these people. If you want it, you'll have to go through us."

The raider laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You think you can stop us, boy? You and that little girl beside you?"

Hela bristled at the insult, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Oh, I’ll enjoy tearing you apart," she muttered under her breath.

Harry’s grin widened. "You have no idea what you’ve just walked into."

With a flick of his wrist, he sent a burst of magic shooting toward the raiders, knocking several of them off their feet. Hela followed his lead, summoning her own power as green, ethereal chains erupted from the ground, ensnaring the attackers and dragging them to their knees.

The raiders fought back, firing energy blasts from their weapons, but Harry deflected them with ease, a shimmering shield of magic springing up around him. Hela moved like a shadow, darting between the raiders with blinding speed, her movements fluid and deadly.

Within minutes, the raiders were overwhelmed, their numbers dwindling as Harry and Hela fought with ruthless efficiency. The remaining attackers, realizing they were outmatched, scrambled back to their ships, fleeing into the sky.

Harry watched them go, his chest heaving as he lowered his wand. "Is everyone alright?" he called out, turning to the villagers who had taken refuge in the mine.

One by one, they emerged, eyes wide with awe and gratitude. "You… you saved us," Orrik said, his voice thick with emotion. "You protected us."

Harry nodded. "It’s not over yet," he said. "We still need to set up the wards. But once we do, I promise you, this village will be safe."

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the mine in shadow, Harry felt a sense of purpose settle over him. This place, these people—they were worth fighting for. And he would do whatever it took to keep them safe.