A deafening crack split the sky.
Compared to the fire giant Surtur, Saitama was an ant. Yet the moment his fist touched that colossal, molten skull, it was like a sabot round had punched through—an immense cavity blew out the back of Surtur's head. The front showed only a pit the size of a dinner plate; the rear was a geyser of lava and fire, as if only a mask remained.
"Hiss—"
Loki and Valkyrie both sucked in breath at the sight.
"A monster… Even Father wasn't this overwhelming, was he?" Thor's scalp prickled. Surtur's durability was absurd, but one punch had wrung a world-shaking scream out of him.
"Raaah—!"
All Asgard seemed to vibrate with Surtur's wail.
And then—astonishingly—the shattered head knitted itself back together like molten rock cooling and reforming. In a blink, his face returned, though pain and humiliation still twisted it.
"How… how can you be this strong? You must die!"
Surtur's voice rasped. Hela's assaults hadn't fazed him. But this bald man's strike had stirred something primal inside him: fear.
Had he… been beaten into fear?
The Twilight Sword snapped up. A tsunami of heat tore the air apart as he chopped down.
Rumble—
The pressure alone choked the breath from lungs. Saitama moved like quicksilver, slipping past the cut, planting his feet, and closing again.
"Futsū no Panchi (Normal Punch)!"
"No—!"
Another boom. Surtur's head exploded a second time; lava sprayed in sheets behind him.
Thor: "…"
Loki: "…"
Valkyrie: "…"
Believe it or not, they were watching a live beatdown of the fire giant Surtur—raw and uncut.
The lava fused again. After several frantic swings of the Twilight Sword, Surtur grew desperate. His enormous body had become a liability; all that famed defense meant nothing if the bald monster's fist connected—he'd pop like a blister every time.
"I am Surtur, fire giant! Doom of Asgard!"
His roar deepened. Then his body began to shrink at shocking speed—down, down—until he stood roughly human-sized. And faster. Much faster.
"Huh? You can get smaller?" Saitama rubbed his chin, genuinely intrigued. A shape-changing monster—now that was new.
Thor and Loki stared, stunned. Princes of Asgard and steward of the Tenth Realm though they were, neither had heard that the fire giants could shrink. For a race that took pride in sheer size, it had to be a disgrace. Clearly, Surtur wouldn't have done it if the bald man hadn't pushed him to the brink.
"Heh heh… Even Odin never forced out this form. You've made me angry!"
Man-sized now, Surtur grinned, the Twilight Sword slimming to a lethal long blade.
He vanished in a flash of blinding fire.
"So fast!"
"Watch it!"
Thor and Loki shouted as one. Miniaturized, Surtur moved at a speed that beggared belief.
Boom—
A molten fist buried itself in Saitama's gut. The dull impact shot him backward. The Twilight Sword chased, growing as it fell—
Rrrrraaaa—
It hammered down at Saitama's head and drove him into the lava sea.
"Hiss— That's brutal!"
Thor flinched. Even he felt a flicker of dread.
Surtur, in human form, laughed with savage delight. He dove after his prey. The magma churned and thrummed; waves a hundred meters high reared up as he pummeled away beneath the surface. Then the lava ocean burst open and Surtur rocketed free, hovering as his laughter rolled like thunder.
"Hahahahaha! That's what you get for opposing the great Surtur! Dead baldy—have you learned your lesson?"
Loki's face tightened; Valkyrie went pale. The original Surtur had already been bad enough. This form, with this speed, made the future feel very, very dark.
"Futsū · Zutsuki (Normal · Headbutt)!"
Pop…
A few bubbles rose from the lava. Common enough in a boiling sea—yet Surtur's laughter cut off mid-peal. His eyes fixed downward.
The molten surface erupted. A gleaming bald head shot out—
Futsū · Zutsuki (Normal · Headbutt)!
That glossy "salted-egg" dome smashed into Surtur's midsection. His eyes nearly popped. His body bent like a prawn and he flew like a line-drive baseball.
"Futsū · Enpi (Normal · Elbow Strike)!"
Whoom—
Saitama stepped on the air, a shock ring blooming from his foot, and appeared behind Surtur. The elbow crashed down. Vertebrae squealed; the fire giant nearly snapped in half, screaming.
"Futsū · Mawashi Geri (Normal · Roundhouse Kick)!"
Air shrieked; space flickered. The whip-like kick hammered him sideways.
"Futsū · Appā (Normal · Uppercut)!"
"Renzoku Futsū no Panchi (Consecutive Normal Punches)!"
"Ryōte Renzoku Futsū no Panchi (Twin Consecutive Normal Punches)!"
Rrrrraaa—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
It was terrifying to watch.
Below, Thor and Loki stood dumbstruck. The reversal was absurd. A moment ago, Surtur had the absolute advantage. Now he was a bowling pin in midair, getting juggled into every lane.
In Saitama's dead-fish eyes, a rare heat kindled.
So good.
This free, exhilarating rhythm—this was the fight he'd been yearning for all along.
A long cry tore from Saitama's throat, rolling like a dragon's call and rattling the heart.
Surtur detonated again and again, hammered into a rain of molten chunks. There was no sign of the earlier arrogance—only panic and horror as his human-sized frame fell apart and clawed itself back together, over and over.
"It's about time to end this, yeah?"
In midair, Saitama halted the storm. His fist drew back.
Surtur, nearly pulped, seized the tiny opening to re-coalesce, barely regaining a human outline. Hatred, fury, defiance all twisted his face—until only one emotion remained.
Fear.
The dread of the cosmos' true bogeyman.
"Serious Punch."
(End of Chapter)
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