In the name of Asgard, let the dirge of death resound!
Every weapon bore the awakened divine essence of death from Hela. Whether they were Asgardian soldiers or Chitauri warriors gripping their arms, all trembled under her overwhelming aura. Even The Other, who had resolved to cling to Lothar's power, found himself unable to control his body as he collapsed in fear.
This was the suppression of pure power—an undeniable force that had earned Odin's trust in allowing Hela to lead armies alone. It was also the key to unlocking the gates of ultimate cosmic might.
Every Asgardian understood what the awakening of divinity meant. Their king, Odin, had single-handedly crushed the Jotun warlords with his divine power, serving as irrefutable proof of its overwhelming might.
"Now, I offer you and your army one final chance, Son of Thanos." Standing atop a platform formed by her conjured weapons, her form clad in a sleek black bodysuit, Hela appeared towering beneath the dim sky.
The wind lifted her long hair.
Looking down upon the cold, stoic face of Lothar, Hela's lips curled upward. "Now, kneel."
"Kneel before the feet of Asgardians."
Death was among the most terrifying forces in the cosmos. And as one who had awakened its divine essence, Hela's might was leagues beyond that of lesser deities who only possessed trivial tricks.
Raised under the expectant eyes of Odin himself, she had been trained personally by her father—from individual combat to battlefield command. Under his influence, she had grown into the very image he had envisioned.
The Reaper of Asgard. From the moment her divinity had awakened, her brilliant future had been set in stone. Nothing could halt her march alongside Odin to conquer the Nine Realms—not Jotunheim, not Thanos.
"First—you're far too confident in your own power." Lothar raised a single finger, his right hand behind his back, his lips curling into a cold smirk.
"Second—the power of divinity has no effect on me."
Lifting his gaze toward the shadowed figure above, Lothar's silver-plated boots stepped across the blood-soaked battlefield, steadily advancing toward the Asgardian ranks.
"Once, three so-called gods of light claimed they would purify me. Seven gods of darkness sought to slay me. Two, claiming dominion over fire and water, swore to make me suffer a fate worse than death. In the end, they all perished."
"Their so-called divinity didn't save them from my hands. Do you truly believe you'll be the exception?"
The power to awaken divinity was not exclusive to the Asgardians. In the three years Lothar had spent executing decapitation missions, he had witnessed countless civilizations—and annihilated many. Some of those worlds had guardians who had also awakened divine essence. Yet in the end, they too fell beneath his silver boots.
He had even seen his adoptive father, Thanos, cut down seven divine beings with a single stroke of his blade.
"Divinity is just divinity. Possessing it merely grants an additional power to wield—it does not make one a supreme being above the cosmos."
Lothar's smirk deepened, his killing intent reaching its peak when he stood only a kilometer away from the Asgardian soldiers.
Boiling power roared within every cell of his body. In a flash, his crimson tail shot forward, piercing through the chests of three Asgardian warriors in succession!
Neither thick armor nor heavy shields could halt his slaughter. The battle-hardened Asgardian soldiers watched in terror as their weapons failed to even scratch the silver plating of Lothar's armor.
"You don't seem to value your subordinates much."
Pausing after his first wave of carnage, Lothar lifted his head to gaze at Hela. Her lack of reaction took him slightly by surprise.
He had expected at least a flicker of anger from her. Instead, she acted as if she hadn't noticed at all. Behind her, an endless barrage of weapons imbued with the power of death rained down indiscriminately upon the Chitauri forces behind Lothar.
"And neither do you," Hela remarked indifferently, idly flicking her slender fingers. The weapons behind her continued their merciless assault, indiscriminately reaping the Chitauri troops caught under their shadow.
Though fearless in battle, the Chitauri were helpless before the crushing weight of her deathly presence. In mere moments, they suffered precision strikes from her endless arsenal. Hela's intent was clear—she would eradicate Lothar's forces first.
"Damn crazy woman!"
The Other scrambled to evade the "raining petals of death," glaring at Hela with seething resentment.
"For the glory of Asgard!"
The few remaining Asgardian soldiers, survivors of their battle against the stationed Jotun forces, exchanged knowing glances, seeing the same resolve in each other's eyes.
They did not fear death—only dying in vain.
Thanos' infamous name resounded throughout the cosmos. The last thing they would allow was his army setting foot upon the lands Asgard had claimed.
To exchange their lives for the destruction of an entire army under Thanos? That was a bargain they deemed worthy.
Only a throne forged in blood and fire could elevate Asgard to the pinnacle of the Nine Realms. Under Odin's doctrine, this belief had been ingrained in every Asgardian warrior's soul.
They were prepared to pave the road to Asgard's supremacy with their very flesh and blood.
The last hundred soldiers abandoned all defense, charging at the silver-clad Lothar with their weapons raised high. Their unwavering faith lent them the strength to pour their final ounces of life into their strikes. Even as their comrades fell before reaching their target, they pressed forward.
"For Asgard!"
Roaring, bellowing, countless blades crashed against Lothar's armor, ringing out in futile defiance. The battle-worn plating, forged by Thanos himself for his beloved son, bore fresh scars—but remained unbroken.
"Fools."
A tidal surge of power gathered in Lothar's right palm. His cold gaze swept over the desperate Asgardian warriors still attacking him.
Lifting his hand, he suddenly slammed it into the ground.
BOOM!
A colossal shockwave erupted. In an instant, within a kilometer radius around him, no life remained.
Meanwhile, the Chitauri army—left to fend for themselves—had already suffered over half their numbers in casualties.
Hela's rampage had more than earned her the title of Death herself.
And yet—
"My father once told me,"
"When one is killed, they die. Now, it's your turn."
A defiant grin spread across Lothar's face as his tail swayed with exhilaration.
Only the strong were worthy of piquing his interest.
Standing firm upon the battlefield, Lothar lifted his gaze.
Above him, Hela met his eyes.
In that moment, the clash of titans was inevitable.
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