For thousands of years, Fenrir had never felt such fear.
Just one strike, only one, and it had been thrown down and gravely wounded. The woman before it was terrifying beyond measure.
From the aura radiating from her, Fenrir had no doubt she could crush it to death with her bare hands.
Yes, no tricks, no weapons, just her hands.
With its human-like intelligence, Fenrir knew what choice to make. Submit and live, or resist and die.
Even though its master called herself the Goddess of Death, reviving it would not be simple. It required countless preparations. And now, Fenrir was certain its master could not possibly be stronger than these two women.
It had followed Hela for many years. The last time it felt power close to this was thousands of years ago when its mistress stood at her very peak. But even then, her strength had only been close, never equal.
Now, before Fenrir stood not one, but two beings who dwarfed its master. It could sense clearly that the other woman was even stronger. Their power was overwhelming, enough to destroy worlds.
So Fenrir lowered itself, its once-proud head bowed in submission at Atago's feet.
Seeing her own mount surrender so easily, Hela erupted in fury.
"Worthless beast! You shame me beyond forgiveness!" she roared.
Atago only smiled faintly. "Your beast is smarter than you. At least it knows when to bow before true strength. You, however, continue to struggle in vain. Truly laughable."
"Silence! I am the queen of Asgard, the ruler of the Nine Realms. You dare to insult me here?" Hela howled, pointing toward Atago and Thor.
In an instant, black blades of the night sky shot forward like a storm, faster than lightning. The rain of swords was strong enough to flatten mountains, part rivers, even split the heavens.
Thor could not resist. Pierced through, he was hurled back, crashing into houses, battered and bleeding.
Atago's eyes, however, only sharpened. She finally grew serious.
Hela's power within Asgard was near limitless, drawn directly from the realm itself. The longer she remained here, the stronger she grew. She had already reached the sub-god level, just one step below the All-Father tier.
Atago too was at the sub-god level, though not yet a true deity. On paper, they stood as equals. But strength was not merely about realm. And Atago held the upper hand.
With a wave of her hand, space itself tore open. A massive rift devoured the storm of black blades, swallowing them whole before spitting them out behind Hela.
Caught off guard, Hela was struck by her own sword rain. The wounds healed quickly thanks to her resilience and the power of Asgard, but it was enough to shake her confidence.
Atago smiled coldly. With one step, the world shifted, and she appeared before Hela. Her fist, wrapped in purple divine light, slammed forward.
Fear flashed in Hela's eyes. For the first time since her return, she felt true terror.
Desperately, she summoned her swords into a wall. But Atago's fist carried the power of the Power Stone, a mid-tier divine artifact that ignored all defenses.
The wall shattered instantly. The blades crumbled into dust, swept away like ashes in the wind.
Atago's strike did not stop. It landed squarely on Hela.
Blood sprayed from her lips as she was blasted across Asgard, her body smashing against the energy barrier that shielded the realm. The shockwave cracked the barrier itself, showing just how devastating that punch was.
Hela fell, crashing into the ground, dust rising around her broken form.
Atago covered her lips and giggled. "And now, do you understand who has the right to speak here? You, with your pitiful strength, are not even worthy to stand before me."
She stood calmly, as though she had not just hurled the Goddess of Death like a rag doll.
Struggling to rise, pale and bloodstained, Hela trembled. That blow had carried the weight of death itself. For a brief moment, she had truly believed she would be erased.
She now knew, without doubt, that she was no match for this woman. And if the other one joined in, she would stand no chance at all.
Her heart sank, full of despair and unwillingness.
Sealed for a thousand years, freed at last, she had thought she could reclaim what was once hers. But reality told her otherwise. She would fail again.
How could she accept that? She clenched her fists, her unwillingness burning, but she knew strength decided all.
Atago and Kitazume both saw through her heart. In truth, they felt sympathy. Asgard had been built by her conquests, and yet her father had sealed her away. Anyone would bear hatred for that.
But revenge was one thing. Turning her blade against all of Asgard was another.
With Odin gone, her vengeance had nowhere to land. If she truly wished to grow stronger, she had to let go of her past. And they had a plan: bend her to their master's will.
"Why? Why stop me? I only want to reclaim what was mine!" Hela shouted in grief.
Kitazume answered calmly, "Because it is our master's command. And as you said yourself, the world is ruled by the law of the strong. You should understand that better than anyone."
"Survival of the fittest," Hela muttered. Her fists clenched tighter, sorrow mixing with realization. Yes, it was true. She had suffered because she was not strong enough. If she wanted to break her fate, she needed more power.
As she thought this, a new aura descended.
It was vast, suffocating, beyond comprehension. Everyone's souls trembled. Knees buckled, and they collapsed to the ground without choice.
Even Hela, unwilling as she was, could not resist. She fell to her knees.
Compared to this presence, she was nothing more than an insect before a beast of the abyss.
A figure appeared, smiling faintly.
"Hela, you are not wrong. If you wish to avoid repeating your tragedies, the only path is to grow stronger. And I can help you."
Atago and Kitazume instantly prostrated themselves, their voices full of reverence.
"Welcome, our Lord. Your glory is eternal, your flame everlasting."
The figure was none other than the Lord of Life himself, Roland Phils.
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