The old woman restrains herself from striking the boy, enraged and anxious, watching as the smoke gathered like a winged serpent. . .
Mysterious signs appear in her magic circles, disrupting the witch’s spells . . .
Frotha reads, screaming horrified.
"Beowulf is alive! Cursed be the flame that has not consumed him!"
All the unclean birds flee, all reptiles burrow. Gunnar shines with joy:
"Thank you lord, for your grace!"
Frotha smiles:
"Men do not have the power of the mystery! Behold!"
Frotha held out her arm. Summoned by the gesture, monstrous beings appeared. . .
"Here are my knights!"
Beowulf rides towards the cave of dark magic: his knights follow him. . .
However, on the shore of the red marsh, the horses stop, fearful. . .
The knights approach on foot, brandishing weapons. . .
They try to cross the sickening mire by foot, seeking to ford the haunted rocks . . .
Suddenly, the swamp erupts in a blaze, a great pillar of flames rising . . .
And dragons, chimeras, harpies, and unicorns arise from the flames, roaring, bellowing, and hissing. . .
The knights flee, terrified. Only Beowulf proceeds between the flames and the claws. . .
He whirls his sword, and where it touches it brings death!
Throwing his javelin he strikes a beast!
Mysterious signs appear in her magic circles, disrupting the witch’s spells . . .
Frotha reads, screaming horrified.
"Beowulf is alive! Cursed be the flame that has not consumed him!"
All the unclean birds flee, all reptiles burrow. Gunnar shines with joy:
"Thank you lord, for your grace!"
Frotha smiles:
"Men do not have the power of the mystery! Behold!"
Frotha held out her arm. Summoned by the gesture, monstrous beings appeared. . .
"Here are my knights!"
Beowulf rides towards the cave of dark magic: his knights follow him. . .
However, on the shore of the red marsh, the horses stop, fearful. . .
The knights approach on foot, brandishing weapons. . .
They try to cross the sickening mire by foot, seeking to ford the haunted rocks . . .
Suddenly, the swamp erupts in a blaze, a great pillar of flames rising . . .
And dragons, chimeras, harpies, and unicorns arise from the flames, roaring, bellowing, and hissing. . .
The knights flee, terrified. Only Beowulf proceeds between the flames and the claws. . .
He whirls his sword, and where it touches it brings death!
Throwing his javelin he strikes a beast!