As Mithras' Flameheart City chapter entered its final act, in the southern regions, the dreadful clash pitting Grand Priestess Akamana against the Great Blood Emperor went on. But what started as an even confrontation quickly turned into a one-sided slaughter, with Akamana reeling back and spurting blood at each collision.
The Grand Priestess paled, constantly pressured by the Altar's overwhelming power.
Truth be told, if not for that artifact, Akamana had a variety of ways to deal with Odoacer. But the Altar of the Blood Gods ranked among the most powerful artifacts of the Spiritual World, a divine-class relic carrying the powers, souls, and corpses of the 12 deities who once dared to challenge the Wrathful Gods for dominion over the Divine Planes: the 12 Blood Gods!
They were all crushed by Heruka, Wrathful God of War and Master of Burning Heavens, their remains refined into an artifact. But while this disastrous defeat no doubt reduced their prestige to zero, the Blood Gods still ranked among the most powerful deities of the Higher Planes—just not Wrathful God powerful.
But then again, how many were?
Now, the 12 avatars of those sanguine deities lined up in the sky, floating behind the Fylkir.
"I have always been a firm believer that a woman should vanish in her man's shadow—supporting him to the best of her abilities. But when a woman knows her place, it becomes her man's duty to shelter and honor her. This duality, this pairing…is the foundation of the greatest societies: the natural order.
To dominate the world, you must first grasp its principles. Grand Priestess, your ambitions challenge the natural order of things, predestining you to loneliness and failure. You will never be fulfilled, for no matter how dazzling and irresistible, a man can never love a woman he must look up to.
And without a man to love her, a woman can never be complete. For sadly for you females...you need us way more than we do you," Odoacer declared, arms folded as he sneered at the Grand Priestess.
Akamana wasn't surprised. Even back when he was still driven by honor and chivalry, Odoacer always prided himself as a man of conservative values, setting different expectations for his male and female subordinates. To the point that despite Sucuria being his strongest warrior, he almost never allowed her to fight.
Even his big sister received that treatment. So, it's not surprising that when the mental degeneration started, Odoacer devolved into a misogynist caricature of the conservative man.
Menaka's fists tightened at her ex-husband's words. Akamana, however, faced the jabs with a smile.
"Odobrangr, I promise there's no need to be worried about me. Your son is my sugar baby and will love me tender," Akamana said with a delightful smile, her comeback making Odoacer's face twist instantly.
"Insolence. Since we've been gone for so long, our fame tarnished by the inferior wastes of the Uriah line, your cabal of rebellious youths must have forgotten what makes us mighty. Allow me to refresh your memory, and let you understand once and for all, the true power of a Fylkir."
[Sanguine Rapture]
[Primordial Strength]
[Immortal Essence]
Arms still folded, Odoacer stepped forward, three spirals of blood mist swirling up his form as his physical attributes shot through the roof, rising at an abnormal rate.
Moving faster than her eyes could follow, the Great Blood Emperor appeared at Akamana's back, smashing into her skull with a vicious elbow.
Instinctively, the Grand Priestess teleported out of the way. But Odoacer's elbow still grazed her Inner Shield—cracking it instantly!
"First, peerless Templar Skills. Templars cannot compete with Gurus, but for the Fylkirs possess the world's strongest templar skills by default, our physical abilities make Gurus look silly," Odoacer said, blitzing Akamana with a flurry of murderous knees and elbows.
Jet-black flames filled the Grand Priestess' eyes, dilating her pupils as she broke into a million clones, all teleporting left and right while firing bolts of concentrated darkness at the ancient monster.
The bolts morphed into a variety of dark weapons, a rain of occult blades surrounding the Fylkir from all sides. But this time around, Odoacer didn't rely on the Altar to protect himself, merely raising his right hand.
A whirlpool of dark energies formed above him, devouring Akamana's projectiles and sending them back with twice the force!
"Second, the Dark Rites. Due to the nature of our cursed blood, Fylkirs are incompatible with Sid, making leveling painful and mantras challenging to learn. But thanks to that same curse, we rank among the most gifted masters of the dark arts." The Fylkir's lips curled into a slasher smile, and he clawed at Akamana, causing the traumatic events buried in Akamana's mind to erupt at once.
For a split second, the Grand Priestess entered a vegetative state. That lapse was more than enough—the myriad bolts smashing into the clones and reducing them into ashes. Akamana herself flew back, blood dripping from her eyes and lips.
Odoacer left her no room to mount a counterattack, a blast of malignant forces crashing into Akamana from above and sinking her into the ground. The Grand Priestess cratered, smoke and rubble flying upwards as the Fylkir closed in on her with slow and leisurely steps.
"Third, the Blood. All lifeforms with blood in their veins are at a natural disadvantage against a Fylkir. You are no exception." A cluster of blood shards shot out of Akamana's heart, shredding her from the inside out.
The Grand Priestess had died. But having activated the Inversion Skill a moment before the fatal move, Akamana's body reversed to its original state, all her injuries vanishing completely.
Still, there was not an ounce of pride or playfulness on the Grand Priestess' face. The situation was far from ideal, and for the first time in centuries, Akamana experienced the feeling that she'd given so many others.
Unfair!
His powers are unfair!
But so what? Since when did the Grand Priestess allow justice and fairness to impact her life?
"Odobrangr…I will admit that you are no doubt the strongest creature I have faced. Even the Holy Emperor might not be stronger, yet his Sid rank and level…are far above yours. Only the Dragon King can suppress you.
Still…" Akamana's words trailed off, and out of nowhere, a demonic dwarf shot out of Odoacer's shadow, catching him in a rear naked choke. In that instant, Odoacer was shocked to find out…that not only his Inner Shield had been disabled, but his godlike physical attributes…also shrank to zero, now no different from an ordinary man.
Here, Akamana appeared at Odoacer's left, her index aiming at his skull like a pistol.
"Bang!" A deafening blast boomed from within Odoacer's head, and his skull…exploded into blood and gore!
"Told you I was going to crack your skull, didn't I? Let no one say I'm not a woman of my word," Akamana said with a cheerful laugh.
The demonic dwarf vanished here, and the Fylkir's corpse fell face first. But as expected of an ancient immortal, Odoacer's head regenerated almost immediately, crushed under Akamana's heel the moment next!
"AKAMANA!" Enraged, the ancient broke into a veil of darkness, reforming in the distance, but charging right back with murderous force.
His attributes returned to the peak. But a moment before the collision, the same dwarf appeared again, a clown mask on its face as it cackled in Odoacer's ears.
The Fylkir couldn't dodge, and this time around…even his blood refused to obey him!
"For you…it's Empress," Akamana said with an impish smirk, sending the ancient cratering with a shoulder throw!