Vhalla's frown deepened, her irritation palpable. In the past 6900 years, her devastating close-range attacks had vaporized countless enemies, but now, a mere human was not just surviving but seemingly munching on her attack like it was an overcooked piece of toast.
She raised her arm, summoning a long sword that materialized with a metallic hum, and dashed forward with the precision of a heat-seeking missile.
Her first attack was a classic thrust forward, aimed to skewer Kaisen like a shish kebab. But Kaisen, with the nonchalance of someone dodging a slow-moving beach ball, tilted his body to the side.
The sword whizzed past his cheek, missing by mere inches, while his hands remained lazily tucked in his pockets.
Vhalla's jaw dropped. Never in her millennium-long life had she imagined such a day would come.
Boing~ Boing~
Then, to her utter shock, she felt a hand on her breast, squeezing it like a stress ball.