"The battle below just took a huge turn as Beowulf had shattered Mars' weapon! They are now engaging in an old-fashioned fist fight!" Heimdall shouts, an arm rising up, shaking with excitement.
Around him, purplish clouds hover in front of every spectator, showing the scenes below. Humanity and the deities do not need to be hassled in watching the scenes unfold. As the best commentator, Heimdall wants his audience to be part of the best experience.
Beneath him and the conjured smoke, hell breaks loose. Reality quakes and cries under the immense stress that are Beowulf and Mars. Their strikes threaten to break the foundation of creation.
"Ouch! Brutal! Beowulf's jaw is unhinged by Mars' knee!" Heimdall laughs, the action filling him with unmatched energy. "Oh, but the hero merely heals it off with a laugh! Truly, the Geat warrior laughs at the face of danger!"
Beowulf's arm swings from right, his fist landing on Mars' face. The man spins, hammering his left fist on the god's nape.
The epic hero's grin grows wider. He grabs Mars' red hair with his left hand. Beowulf picks him up, spinning the deity before smashing him onto the ground.
The force made Mars bounce back up from the solid ground, spitting dirt out of his mouth. The god looks forward and sees the mortal rearing another punch. The punch sails. Mars catches it with both hands.
The Roman pulls the arm down as he bends his body upward. His heels smash onto Beowulf's head, caving the skull and mushing the brain. Mars growls as the damage he deals is healed by Thrúd.
Mars with Beowolf's arm still in his grasp, tries to rip it off, but the hero resists. Thus, Mars goes to trap Beowulf's head between his thighs, cracking the skull, bursting veins open. He flips back, bringing Beowulf along and embedding him onto the earth.
The god pushes up from his hand stand, landing on his feet and facing the recovering mortal. He rears his fist back. He throws an overhead punch, aiming at Beowulf's rising figure. The space trembles, and his heartbeat bangs louder and faster.
With his brain still healing and recovering, Beowulf cannot dodge by himself. Thrúd sees the attack, and she panics. With all her efforts, she forces Beowulf to lean back. Mars' attack swishes past the mortal's head.
No damage is done to Beowulf, but the ground beneath them bursts. The earth exploded with a mighty crash as reality shivers upon Mars' strength. The force sends Beowulf flying. His vision finally returns as he lands with a wobbling stance.
"I believe that was I, almost perishing!" Beowulf laughs, dropping to one knee as his fingers dig into the pulverized earth. 'Truly, I am no match against his combat prowess. Every shift of movement foretells death by his attacks. Is this how every god of war fights?' His mind runs with thoughts, a shiver almost making its way throughout his body.
'No, not every deity can be like Mars,' Thrúd answers, continuing with a grim tone, 'because they are simply not an army in one body. Mars is, and forever will be. War itself, and war in every sense.'
"Now, with all this carnage and strength he has shown, and yet the heavens remain silent?!" Beowulf laughs, facing the charging Mars. "Despicable, I say! They are rotten!" Yet, his eyes shake ever so slightly, his voice straining.
Beowulf's body rattles, Mars' heartbeat sending quakes throughout his mortal body. He faces the god with a grin, his fist rearing back. Although, his mind races with panic, his attack pushes forth with the same, unshaken determination.
Mars gazes upon the gleaming unshakable smile. His lips form a thin line as he launches himself towards the mortal. The Roman's mind is a warzone; unchained wild thoughts and shouts.
'Do you see that?! Every death we bring, he never falters!'
'How can creation grant a mortal this much will?! Picking favorites!'
'We might not see the day that grin fades...'
"Then we will mirror that!" Mars growls, his lips parting, his teeth bloodied. Still? He grins, mirroring Beowulf's demeanor. "Now all of you, shut it! If you're negative about this, don't speak! JUST WATCH!" He laughs, mere meters away from the mortal.
"Now, this development! Let's see it!" Beowulf matches the newfound energy. His fist sails forward, space coiling around it as it bends, rending itself to shreds.
The Roman sees this coming. He spins midair, his right leg whipping from the left. The limb catches the mortal's fist between his thigh and calf. With a twist of his body, Mars breaks Beowulf's arm.
The man winces at the sensation. He feels the deity pulling his arm off as the god's hand drops to the ground. Without another second, Beowulf pulls his arm back.
Mars flinches as his body shoots towards Beowulf. His chest caves in upon meeting the mortal's forehead, his heartbeat skipping a beat. His face attempts to contort into a pained expression, but the god forces his grin to remain.
Beowulf feels Mars let go of his arm, making him mentally sigh. His arm begins healing, twisting itself back to shape and mending any wound. The man watches as Mars drops himself a few meters back.
'His heart gave out for a second,' Beowulf stares at the panting god, the deity dropping onto one knee. 'His limits, it's here,' and without another word, Beowulf surges forward.
'Screw it,' Mars' hectic mind went still at the thought. A pin drop would echo within him, a silence he is not familiar with. 'Heh, nervous, everyone? Yeah, me too, but hey, we're mirroring Beowulf's bravado, right?' His grin solidifies.
"LET'S NOT SHOW IT, EH?!"
Mars rises from his position, his heartbeat akin to rumbling war drums. His golden eyes show certainty as the drums of war play louder and swifter. Then, he greets Beowulf's charge with a punch.
The hero stops in his track. His entire being trembles, but he hides it well. His instincts flare-it roars at him, screaming for him to get out of the way.
Mars' punch causes everything to rumble and shake. Reality shakes in fear in front of his physical strength, forced as it is. Forced or not, reality still threatens to collapse under the stress that is Mars' physicality.
Beowulf throws himself out of the way, not intending to die at that spot. Everything becomes dead silent and goes black for everyone. Soon, the booming sound of reality breaks the silence and darkness.
Everything around Mars shatters to pieces, and Beowulf finds himself blown away. The man has no time to think, letting his instincts do most of the work as Mars follows up. Beowulf can only stare at Mars as he already sends another attack.
Then, the war drums stop and Beowulf drops to the ground with a loud crash. The mortal pushes himself up, red eyes falling on Mars' figure. His grin turns rigid at the sight of his opponent.
Mars has fallen onto the ground, one knee and hand digging into the earth. His other hand grips his chest, nails scratching whatever is left of his soldier uniform. His breaths are quick and shallow, his chest heaving in a swift manner.
The god looks ahead, searching for his opponent. His already failing frame shakes in disappointment, his body sagging ever so slightly upon seeing Beowulf staring with what seems to be pity.
...
Jupiter's hands grip the railings of their platform, denting and cracking the divine masonry. His gauntlets creak at the stress; his armor clatters with his sudden movements. Silent is his falcon as it stares at the scene unfolds within the purplish smoke of Heimdall.
'Mars...' Jupiter's mind races with thoughts. 'You need to end it now or else you will fall. You are strong, but you face a mortal capable of enduring pain and suffering. His persona makes you falter, for any foe would have doubts about themselves when faced with an adversary that cannot be shaken,' the Roman chief's grip tightens around the railings. 'For the love of creation, end this fight swiftly. Suffering... do not subject yourself to it.'
"Awww, is grandpa worried?" Loki chimes in, floating upside down, in front of Jupiter's face. "Your eyes, white as they are, are shaking-your entire body is. Honestly? Amusing."
"Watch your tongue, lest you want to lose it now, boy," Jupiter's voice rumbles. His white eyes glare at the smirking trickster, unfazed of his words. "I don't think Odin would mind you dead and replaced," he goes on, yellow lightning humming as it dances around him.
"Let's all stop now~," Zeus giggles, hands on his knees as he sits on a soft pillow. "Ruin everyone's fun and I'll let you both see what will happen, hehe~," his eyes glow blue within their sunken sockets, casting him with an eerie look. Then, he looks at the scene, "But damn, I wish these were young ladies fighting, hehe~!"
Hearing Zeus, Loki merely shrugs, chuckling at Jupiter's face. Then, the Norse trickster vanishes and reappears just beside Odin's chair, yawning. He takes a saucer of mead from Hermes, snorting at the pathetic display of Mars.
"That boy of yours, Jupiter," the Jade Emperor gazes upon the unraveling scene. "Without magic, his body is limited to a much lower threshold. Yet, he spits on his limitations, disregarding it without care. He forces what cannot be, and what cannot be will destroy him."
"He will do it over and over again whenever he wants and needs to," Jupiter says slowly, watching as Mars rises from his position. "War will not let itself be over just because of a mere limitation."
"And in doing so, war will flicker away faster than it is intended," the Jade Emperor grumbles, watching Mars struggle to charge at Beowulf. "He is still doing it. He does not care about his well-being. He pays no regards to it, and all that matters to him is to fight and try winning."
Hearing the Jade Emperor, Jupiter huffs, his falcon ruffling its electrified feathers. He knows Mars too well, and he cannot disagree with the Chinese chief. Mars would rather die strong like this than live longer.
"This is pathetic."
Everyone's eyes widen at Thor's words. Rarely, the Norse god would speak as he chooses to stay silent and observe, but now, he spits out the words with disdain. The deities see him grip Mjolnir tighter, veins bulging on his temples.
"That should have been me fighting," Thor rumbles on. "Athena made the wrong call-"
"Boy, does your pantheon know not to keep their mouth silenced?" Jupiter cuts off Thor, making the latter slowly turn towards the chief. "Mars could and would wipe you off creation the moment you let your guard down."
Then, Thor trembles as Jupiter lets go of his next words. His eyes dilate, shaking in anger. His hand threatens to shatter Mjolnir's handle.
"Boy, you did not fight him in his full strength."
...
"Beowulf is mine to conquer," Thor said with a cool voice, glaring at the panting Mars. "Stand down, or die by my hammer, ant."
"Ain't dying, cunt!" Mars snarled at Thor, his gladius hissing in anger. "I'll get this fight one way or another! If I die trying to claim what I want, then so be it!" The Roman rose, weapon shaking in anticipation. "Give me your best fucking shot, or die trying!"
Mars threw himself towards the Norse god. His gladius elongated, whipping towards Thor's head once more. The latter felt the Roman's heartbeat drumming, akin to the drums brought to countless wars.
Thor brought Mjolnir up to guard against the pitiful attack. He has blocked countless similar attempts previously. He knew that this one would not be different from the others. Just as pitiful.
Or so he thought.
The space was shredded to strips under the blade of Mars. The gladius seemed to rage as his wielder-loud and untamed. Thor felt Mjolnir cry as the attack struck it.
The vicinity crumbled in an instant, making Thor's eyes widen in disbelief. Few could surprise him, and Mars did just that. In an instant, the forest they have chosen for their battle is gone, replaced by a barren wasteland.
Mars' heart banged wildly within his ribs, erratic and longing for battle. Gone were the regards for his limitations. Gone were the regards for his safety. He will have this last slot for Ragnarok.
Or he would have to die trying.
"None will stand in my way! None will stay standing upon my blade! None! This slot... IS MINE!" Mars roared, fury burning within his golden eyes. The Roman gripped his weapon, a scythe now in his hand.
Thor swung his hammer around, blocking as many slashes as he could. His red hair, ruined by the attacks, uneven cuts littering his entire head and body. His dark and yellow eyes shook at the realization.
Mars was never weak. Merely limited.
Thor understood him now. The Roman threw every regard he had for his safety to gain strength. Temporary as it is, and as dangerous as it is, Thor now knows that Mars did and will not hesitate sacrificing his well-being just to keep up.
A manic grin creeped into Thor's face. Mjolnir trembles at the stress of Thor's grip as it was swung here and there. The Norse god was beginning to enjoy the development.
With Mjolnir held high, Thor brought it down with a mighty crackle of thunder. The area caved in, sending Mars flying away, having taken the attack head on without care. Thor gazes upon the rising body of his opponent, a sadistic grin present with the childish glee in his eyes.
Today, Thor found a playmate.
The Norse god threw his giant hammer towards Mars. The space cried for help, humming in a distorted sense as the weapon sailed through the space. In a fraction of a second, Mjolnir has closed the gap between it and Mars' head.
The Roman ducked under the weapon. His own morphed into a giant hammer as he swung towards his back. His weapon struck Mjolnir, sending it flying farther from its wielder.
Soon, Mars found himself swinging at Thor with a nodachi aimed at the latter's neck. Though, Mars ducked just in time as Mjolnir had already flown back to Thor, threatening to destroy him from the back. Their weapons locked as they clashed.
Mars stared into Thor's manic eyes. Both fighters knew, none would back down.
Mars knew it. Thus, he acted. He needed to end this.
Smoke started rising from his body, his skin turning red as his heart roared with renewed rage. His entire body hissed at the heat, and Thor had no idea what was happening. All he knew, Mars is fun to play with.
"Stop," a voice halted their fight.
Both warriors were visibly angry at the interruption, but they both knew not to mess with who called them out.
Athena strolled forward, uninterested eyes staring at her ornate shield. She wore her usual armor, helmet included as she huffed. Then, her eyes slowly found themselves staring at the two gods.
"Mars won. Go home, Thor," Athena said simply.
At that, Thor's veins bulged from anger.
Mars however?
The Roman cheered and laughed.
...
Beowulf stares at the panting Mars. The mortal takes a step towards his opponent, but never too close. His stance does not falter, yet, his posture carries softness.
"Are you quite alright there, Roman god?" Beowulf asks, still grinning, but his tone carries worry.
"For the last fucking time," Mars growls, clutching his chest in pain, eyes watering. He feels his heart skipping more and more beats, but he holds on. "Don't call me a god. I've been raging about that since the beginning," Mars chuckles, steadying his breathing and heart.
Hearing this, Beowulf is taken aback. "So, you were not angry that I complimented you?" He asks, chuckling himself.
"What? Fuck no, maybe some of the soldiers do, but not me," Mars almost laughs, but he forces it down. "You gotta understand, I am never alone. Always with war."
Then, Mars rises from his position, his body stumbling ever so slightly. Yet, he stands his ground, his golden eyes glaring at Beowulf. Though, he grins, akin to a friend seeing an old companion.
"Still, I must end you," Mars chuckles. "My pantheon wants me home," he charges at Beowulf, but the man notices the decline in his speed.
'Weakening,' Beowulf utters within his mind as he stomps, arms wide open as if to welcome Mars. "As noble as that is, I cannot let the flames of humanity flicker away in my sight!" He grins, his eyes shimmering with his iron will.
"You're a favorite, you know that, right?!" Mars shouts, his palms open as they speed towards Beowulf.
Taken aback by the comment, Beowulf is not able to dodge. His chest gives out, his lungs collapsing and his ribs caving in. His body is then thrown to the ground, cratering it.
"Gifted by godly strength, yet suppressed to let you enjoy human life while still in the mortal realms," Mars laughs, his palms already on their way towards Beowulf's head.
The man sees this and flips upwards and then back, slamming his legs onto the Roman's body. Beowulf launches himself at Mars, digging his fist deep within Mars' abdomen.
Mars' uniform is torn apart by the attack, its durability long gone after much punishment. His skin shreds under the attack and blood splatters on Beowulf's arm. Then, Mars grabs and holds Beowulf's arm, a grin plastering his bloodied being.
"Few deities would ever dare face you unless they are those chiefs or as strong as those chiefs. Those would wipe you out with ease," Mars coughs out blood, painting Beowulf's face with it. "Or you're Thor and I, wanting more fights and progress in our strength."
"I have the faintest idea why that is the case!" Beowulf laughs, his head meeting Mars' chest. "I am but a warrior that protects his people!"
Wincing as his ribs creak, Mars pulls and bashes his head onto Beowolf's jaw, splitting it and dislodging it. The mortal falls on his back.
Yet, as the man bleeds, he refuses to fall, making Mars laugh as he crashes both knees onto Beowulf's chest. Then, two palms crash onto Beowulf's head, breaking it between the forces.
"You were created for heroics and glory! Made to kill two fuckers that should not be felled by anything other than few deities!" Mars cackles. "Your strength is unmatched for mortals and some divines!" The Roman grins at the bloodied man under him, his eyes giving a faint glow of gold. "Meet your match, cunt!"
Mars proceeds to slam his head onto Beowulf's face but finds his face gripped by the mortal. Two fingers dig into his nose and a thumb pressed hard onto the roof of his mouth. Soon, he is thrown forward, his skull cracking at the iron grip.
Beowulf slowly heals, rising from his fall. He swiftly located the steadying Mars. What he has heard about his creation, he gives no regards. Right now, he only acknowledges what he deems is right.
"You are a mighty fine warrior, Mars! But this will not be my end!" He roars with booming energy. "This warrior must oversee his duties!"
Then, he rushes to Mars on all fours, the bear pelt's eyes glowing faintly blue. Soon, he raises his head, grin gleaming under the pelt.
"Humanity's flames shall never flicker away on my watch!"
...
"Yeah!" Göll cheers, arms raise high and eyes gleaming with hope. "Get him, Beowulf, sister Thrúd! Beat him up!"
"Enthusiastic, are we?" Freya giggles as Beowulf, through the purplish screen, throws Mars across the terrain. "Mars is at his limits. He can only force his body so much before its divine material finally gives out. Not even divine bodies can withstand the strain he is exerting on his entire being."
"Yeah, why is that? Can't we break our limits, just like how Beowulf breaks his'?" Göll stares at Freya, tilting her head in question.
"Those are done when we have not reached our true limit, Göll," Freya smiles, watching Beowulf plow the ground using Mars' body. "Once you reach your true limits, your body cannot grow stronger anymore. Though, magic can help us destroy our true limits and push even further without repercussions, the same cannot be said for Mars."
"Because he has no magic," Göll nods, following along. "So, he's at his peak? He cannot gather more strength through his body?"
Hearing this, Freya grins, and so does Brunhilde who giggles beside her. "Yes, my precious sister, he's at his peak, he cannot grow stronger anymore. This means he cannot do anything but destroy his body in order to stand a chance against our champions."
Göll stares at the scene in front of her. Yes, he can see Mars flailing, using Venus' unarmed fighting style to counter, mixing various martial arts such as boxing, taekwondo, muay thai, and more. Yet, Beowulf simply overpowers him.
If Mars does not push his body, he will never defeat Beowulf. This is enough to fill Göll with hope, a smile blooming wider.
"Let's go, Beowulf, sister Thrúd!" Göll grips the railings, feet rising as she leans onto it. "Win this battle!"
The youngest valkyrie grins, her eyes watering at the thought of their victory.
Though, she can only hope for the best.
And hope is all humanity needs.
...
Within the dark halls of the stadium, the sounds of high heels against the floor rings faintly. A faint, amused giggle is heard, followed by a mellifluous voice.
"Hmm, quite boring. No variety. Beowulf and Mars can only provide that much? Hmm, disappointing. I wish it was more...fun and interesting," a female voice sighs, the sound of rattling chains following. "Don't you agree, my sweet angel?"
Then, a bark resounds, the clattering of wood and metal accompanying the joyous answer.
At that, the woman hums, giggling at the enthusiasm. "Yes, very much so. That fight sure is cursed to be bland and repetitive."
A bark answers her statement.
Then, she sighs as she continues her walk, the sound of wood and metal following her. "Maybe the next fight will have more flare. Maybe something fitting for someone as fabulous as me, right?"
The happy barks accompany her throughout her walk.
"Yes, yes. We'll see," she chuckles, her tone darker.
"We'll see what more they can offer."
{•===To Be Continued===•}
Yo! Apologies for the delay, everyone! Tough times. Currently finding a job and dealing with personal stuff while writing.
Life is a pain. I wish it wasn't, but that won't be life, eh?
Anyways, thoughts about the chapter?