Chapter 21: Cry for My Strength

"Oh?"

"I hope your body is as tough as your mouth."

Hela ceased her assault on the Chitauri army. This was Jotunheim, not Asgard—she wouldn't have infinite reserves of power here. Lothar had already demonstrated considerable strength, and to be cautious, she chose to momentarily halt her attacks on the Chitauri.

With a single gesture, the hammer lying on the ground flew back into her grasp. Her lithe form leapt from the platform, and the divine power of the Aesir coursed through the hammer, surging straight toward Lothar, who stood below with his gaze fixed skyward!

CLANG!

The deafening clash of metal sent ripples through the ground at Lothar's feet, kicking up dust and debris.

"Is this the full extent of your strength?"

Through the swirling dust, Lothar emerged, arms crossed in an X, having taken Hela's hammer strike head-on. In The Other's astonished gaze, a rare hint of excitement crept onto Lothar's ever-stoic face.

Even though the silver gauntlets covering his arms had shattered under Hela's blow.

"You're still far from enough."

With a sudden thrust of his arms, an immense force erupted from Lothar, forcing Hela to stagger backward despite her grip on the hammer. He didn't let up—Lothar lunged forward in relentless pursuit!

Every fiber of his being pulsed with raw, violent power as he relentlessly pressured Hela, who now wielded both her hammer and sword. Despite the absence of his broken silver armor, his bare arms showed no hesitation, unleashing a storm of attacks so fierce that even Hela struggled to adjust.

Across the Nine Realms, she had never encountered a warrior like Lothar—someone who relied purely on physical prowess to overpower her in battle.

Each weapon she materialized with her magic barely grazed Lothar, evaded by razor-thin margins. His battle instinct, seemingly innate, granted him an almost unfair advantage in close combat.

Saiyans—born for battle!

"What's the matter, Daughter of Odin? Have you already given up?"

His strikes left afterimages in the air, his fists and feet landing mercilessly on Hela's body. His speed was so blindingly fast that even Hela, with all her years of combat experience, could only rely on instinct to dodge—yet it wasn't enough. His assault was relentless, too rapid, too overwhelming. Her arms, knees, abdomen, even her chest—every part of her body within his reach bore the brunt of his attacks.

"No," she gritted her teeth, suppressing the pain coursing through her body. "I just find your punches incredibly weak."

Taking a calculated risk, she momentarily opened her guard, summoning a volley of enormous blades and sending them hurtling toward Lothar to break his momentum.

"So weak that I don't even need to defend against them."

BOOM!

A massive, three-pronged greatsword shattered into fragments as Lothar punched through it with a single blow. The shards of enchanted metal exploded like a deadly firework, slicing into his unarmored arms and even nicking Hela herself.

Frigga, Asgard's greatest sorceress and Hela's mother, had personally crafted her battle armor, yet now it lay torn in places. Her exposed arms and thighs bore fresh, crimson wounds.

It was impossible to tell whose blood stained the battlefield—Lothar's or Hela's.

"Is this your way of comforting yourself, weakling?" Lothar sneered, unfazed by his own injuries. To him, these cuts didn't even count as wounds.

"Not that it matters."

"Call it a defeated dog's pitiful whimper or a weakling's last desperate struggle—either way, this is your final chance to express yourself."

His bloodstained right hand rose, and a defiant smirk curled at his lips, burning into Hela's vision.

"Daughter of Odin, cry for my strength."

Cry, scream, and then—just die.

With a savage grin, Lothar's legs tensed, and in an instant, he shot forward like a cannonball, aiming to close the distance between himself and Hela.

"You really love flattering yourself, don't you? Did Thanos teach you nothing but how to run your mouth?"

Standing motionless, Hela merely smirked as Lothar's image reflected in her pupils. Her hands brushed over her head, and in an instant, the sharp, crown-like structure that adorned her transformed back into flowing, jet-black hair cascading down her back. She extended her hands forward—and an invisible force materialized between them.

What?!

Lothar felt himself slam into something—something impossibly solid. Yet as soon as he made contact, the wall became eerily soft, wrapping around him like an endless, suffocating swamp. No matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free.

"The Crystal Wall," Hela declared. "A spell from the Aries System—a gift from my mother."

Watching Lothar wrestle against the unseen force, she smiled cruelly.

"My father, Odin, was the most powerful king in the Nine Realms. And my mother—the wisest sorceress. She taught me many spells in my youth."

"Like the Crystal Wall from Aries… and the Piercing Arrow from Sagittarius."

The wind howled, whipping Hela's dark hair as she mimicked the motion of drawing a bow.

Black enchanted metal coalesced at her command, forming a bow, then shifting into a radiant gold as she infused it with her magic.

Channeling the very essence of the elements, she conjured an arrow of pure energy and let it loose—straight into Lothar's exposed arm!

SHNK!

The arrow embedded itself deep into his flesh before detonating, sending searing agony rippling through every nerve in his body!

"Oh, and let's not forget the Holy Sword from Capricorn. Dying by this spell… you should consider it an honor."

Casting three high-tier spells in succession, all while nursing internal injuries from Lothar's relentless assault, left Hela struggling to maintain composure. But she clenched her teeth and endured, refusing to show weakness before him.

A dazzling golden glow coalesced above Lothar—an enormous blade materializing at his crown.

The Judgment Sword of Capricorn!

"Prince Lothar?!"

The Other, who had been watching the battle in stunned silence, finally snapped to attention and rushed forward, brandishing his staff. But it was too late.

"Pay the price for your arrogance and ignorance—in the name of Hela Odinsdottir."

A tempest of raw energy swept across the battlefield as the enormous golden sword descended, poised to cleave Lothar in two!

THUMP… THUMP… THUMP…

The pain from the explosive arrows sent Lothar's heart pounding, his breath ragged. Yet, as he stared at the sword bearing down upon him, there wasn't a shred of fear in his expression—only exhilaration.

His body craved battle. It hungered for the breakthrough that lay on the brink of life and death.

Every cell in his body trembled with excitement, surging with newfound power. The magic burning in his arms was forcibly expelled by his rising energy, and the Crystal Wall binding him shattered into glimmering motes of dust.

"AHHHHHH!"

With a roar that shook the heavens, Lothar's body pulsed with explosive energy. He bent his knees, his muscles tensed—veins bulging visibly under his skin. Throwing his head back, he let loose a thunderous battle cry that echoed across the blood-soaked plains.

"VANISH, HELA ODINSDOTTIR!"

His energy erupted like a storm. With a single bound, he soared upward and met the Judgment Sword head-on—

—and with one devastating punch, he shattered it into oblivion!

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