Gods among us: Origins

by Dantegrey

Magnus Blacksson, Devil King, Jarl, Warrior, Berserkr, and the last Campione of his era, fall at the hands of the King of the end, along all his peers. But that was only the beginning, Pandora and Odin had plans for the Devil King, this is the history about how he was forged in battle and baptized in blood.

1. Chapter 1

End of an Era

Middle Asia

It has been glorious, it has been indescribable, there could be no words that could explain the powers that collide with abandon and rage in the middle of the lands of the ancient China, where the country wasn't even unite under the banner of the first emperor.

Truly the end of an era, the end of a time where powerful Campiones battled each other for fame, power or simply the need of felling alive, that proud was perhaps their own damnation, the arrogance that the Campione posses was not as different from the one of the gods, it could be even deeper as the Campione are the ones that hunt gods.

Never in history has ever been seen such raw violence, such power without any constraint being released and unleashed against each other until there will be only one standing.

And the prize was quite the catch, the prize was the earth itself, to rule over the humanity as the most powerful Campione, it was madness, it was crazy, it was stupid, it was glorious and greedy.

Fitting for the Campione indeed.

Ten battled over the earth, against each other and against the one that will kill them all, as his own legend was exactly the bane of all the Campione, the King of Heroes, the Descendant of the lineage of Argus.

The King of the End has descend to earth, called by the suffering of the humanity and the cry of the Divine ancestors that represent the Mother Earth, so much was the destruction that the Campione were unleashing that no god wanted anything to do with them and the balance was at the verge of be destroyed.

However, even with all the power backing him or better said It, as the King of the End was nothing but a lot of power condensed and with a purpose, a divine weapon of unlimited power whose only objective was to collect the lives of all Campiones in its way.

Only one stood on his way, the most powerful and influential Campione of his era, the ancient one, the one that rule over the frozen peaks of the North, were no army has dared to set foot since he became a Campione.

The power surrounded both of them like mantles, sure and confident in their powers and determination, both of them had a mission, one of killing and the other to protect his people from all menaces that could cause them harm.

Explosions, light, darkness, weapons and elements danced in the place of their battle, it was sight that will not be seen again until the end of the next era comes around and the King of the End awakes one more to cause devastation and restore the balance.

They learnt that lesson to late, the world can only tolerate a limited amount of Campione, they were not gods, not humans but something on the middle and their bare presence change the balance of the world to worst, as more awakes, more unbalanced the world became.

However they are needed, otherwise the gods are free to do as they please and no one will stand in the way of their whims, uncountable natural catastrophes has been responsibilities in the end by the machinations and actions of gods that wanted to play in the mortal lands.

Campiones are their hunters, their nemesis, their only real enemy, birth among humans, gifted by the ritual that Epimeteus and Pandora design, they became the adoptive sons and daughters of the woman that knows all and the fool savant.

Power is his blood and battle is in their soul, no mortal shall stand in their way, only gods can hurt gods and that´s as true and the sun light in the morning, Campione are one of a kind, for they were able to slain a deity when they were nothing but mortals and by that achievement, stole the powers of the gods they have slain becaming the Campione, Devil Kings, Kings, Gods and Monsters among humanity who respect, worship and fear they, the same way they do with the gods above.

Facing each other, the oldest of this era and the one that ends an era, they take a measure of their rival and do recognize that there are no malice in none of them, it was how the things must be, predator and prey, light and darkness, fire and ice, natural balance in the process.

The one who kills Campiones and the Campione who kills gods.

It simply must happen, its part of the cycle and despite Campiones being the bug of the system so to say, even them have to come to an end.

Not even the gods are immune to change and death, one god falls, another took its mantle, changing shape, authorities and myths that created the original in the first place. The form they myths gave birth to gods and how the faith could change the shape and authorities of the gods is a mechanism that no one has been never able to understand and the divine beings like it that way.

As the rest of the campiones battle each other in a confusing and violent all out brawl, the oldest and the harbinger of the end, look at each other, now that they recognize the other for what he was, they knew that they will be no other way but the trial and thrill of battle, a battle to the death, a battle where they will put all their souls and powers in play, there was no place for trickery here, this was a battle of pure power, nothing more matters.

The glorious but terrifying white and pure light of the King of the End clashed with a thunderous boom with the dazzling black and golden storm of the oldest campione.

The after shock of the impact created a crater of two meters deep and hundred metres diameter around the fighters, sending all the others campiones flying in all directions like eagles caught into a sudden blizzard.

This was a battle between titans and no one, not gods, not campione are allowed to intervene and dishonour the result.

The light ascend in the heavens and the black and golden storm went after it, they clash at each other like magnets of opposite polarities that could only attract each other.

The sky cried with every boom they made each time both forces clash with each other, the already scarred and full of craters earth, sank even more as more and more cracks appeared on the surface as result of the energies that were unleash by both divine beings.

The light pushed the storm to the ground, after gaining the upper terrain in he sky, it pummelled like a meteor over the storm chasing it, but even when all the gravity and the power of the light tried to subdue the storm, it only raged stronger, the golden lightnings scarred the immaculate white light, all the physic of the world went directly off the windows when the storm and the light reached the floor and buried themselves in the earth.

It was a stalemate between the light and the storm, floating an inch over the surface of the devastated earth, ten meters deep in a hole of their own making, none of them surrounding to the other, both fighting to the end and their power was directly off the charts, none of the other campiones could come closer to the output both of them were pulling of their sleeves.

Its always being said that Authorities are the supreme essence of what a god are, divine powers that could twist reality and grant them complete control over an aspect of their myths, take Zeus [Sky] or Anubis [Death] as examples.

However there grades even those same authorities, there is always a next level, young campione and young gods always had to control their authorities, they are not accustom to the power or the mind set need to make complete control over it.

But in this case, it was not that way around, both had complete control of their authorities and they were putting massive amounts of power in it, up to the point that it did seems that the concept light and the concept storm as they are represented in myths are having a death match.

This was a battle between deities of the highest grade and the rest of the campione did take good note of how powerful they were, some were jealous of such power, others aroused and happy of being in presence of something this powerful, other greed over the power, wanting them for themselves.

But in all cases, for the first time in their long lives, the campione remembered what it was to be in presence of a superior being, they remembered the first time they had to contemplate a god, how hopeless all did seem and how insignificant they felt for a second, until they did the impossible and managed to kill the deity they stole their Authorities from.

Fear was poison for Campione, they are supreme rulers, not common mortals that bows and tremble under the fear of the gods, calling their own authorities, all of the rest of the Campiones joined to battle, all screaming their own battle cries and guided by their own desires and convictions.

Two new storms circle the golden one and unleashed torrents of lightnings over it, a rain of swords fall over the white light, a hawk made of pure fire stomped his way into the light meanwhile roots and trees erupted from the ground surrounding all fighters in a vegetable dome that start to crush them restless.

As response to that aggression, the campione and the King of the end, do what they do best.

Pure, unadulterated destruction waved in all kind of shapes and forms, from violent gusts of winds, to flaying and freezing blizzards.

When the dust settled after the sudden and violent clash of powers, all look at the rest with hate, lust, battle joy, indifference, sadness and happiness.

Such is the craziness of the Campiones, that could smile and be merry in the middle of a battle to the death with divine beings, they are the irrationality that stomps the irrationality of the gods, an impossibility made reality by impossible odds.

In all, the Campiones are quite the impossible bunch to deal with, more akin to the gods they hunt that the humans they were in the begging.

There was no need for words, the eleven fighters jumped at each other, each one of them looking for their adversaries, some in pairs, some in groups and a couple of them just as lone wolves that attack the King of the end like the have an axe to grind with the King of heroes.

The oldest one find himself attack by a couple of the most warmongers of the campiones of this era, the spartan Tello and the egyptian Mutham-Ra.

Heroes and champions of their people, they didn't give a fuck about anything that was not war related, always seeking for the next battle, for the next challenge that could bring them joy and happiness.

The oldest just raise his weapons and respond to the other two campiones like it always should be, with a thunderous war cry and his weapons prepared to strike both of them.

Not really need to mention that both of them were more than happy to deal with the oldest at his best and then, they will care about this so called King of the end, for them it was nothing but another heretic god that has land on earth to complicate things further.

For another of the campiones present in the battlefield, it was just another power source he could kill and stole his authorities.

Never has been said that all the campiones must be nice people, in fact, it was the other way around, lots of campione just get drunk in their own divine power, soon acquiring the same arrogance that the gods tend to display every time they land on earth.

Being the three fighters possessors of [War] related authorities, watch them fight is an incredible display of martial ability, from the curved favoured sword of the Egyptian, that moved like trail of light in the night, to the brute but effective shield and spear the spartan was showing as favoured weapons.

The oldest one fight in a defensive manner, he was fast when he need but the Egyptian was simply faster and the spartan was more than capable of matching his speed as he was possible the best martial artist of the world, only matched by the African huntress that was actually fighting the King of the heroes.

Weapon clashed, trying to gain an advantage to kill their enemies, swords and spears feinted, parried and dodged attacks that would make all professional fighters in the world go green of envy, it was a shower of sparks between the gold, red and yellow aura of the fighters, it was not a two versus one but a free for all where if you lose focus for a second, you will be torn apart.

They moved, three blurs changed of position, the golden one seeking for an advantage in terrain and the rest just following suit, not allowing their prey to scape, the three meteors pursue each other over all the terrain, dodging the powers being unleashed over all the lands, or parrying it with their own powerful weapons and authorities.

Leaving apart the prophecies that condemn them all to fall here, in presence of the representation of all their deaths, the so called King of the end, a lot of the campiones were having the time of their lives.

Campiones search battle, campiones do search for powerful rivals to fight and conquer, all humanity was under them and only gods could stand in their way, predators and prey elevated to the divine potency.

The three stopped over a mountain at kilometres of distance from the battle, the shield of the spartan fall like a meteor over the head of the oldest one, who raise his own weapon to block that attack and the sudden and swift swipe of the khopesh of the Egyptian with his own spear.

The shock pulverized the little forest in where he was trying to lure in the other two campiones, entire trees went flying from the resounding shock waves of the collision of the weapons, however, despite the devastation, the oldest one smiled and start pouring more and more power in one of his authorities.

The forest grow back, encapsulating them in a dome of darkness and divine wood, harder than any metal know by man and capable of withstand terrific damage as more power is put inside the green and brown material of the suddenly grow trees.

It was a two edged sword, he could trap all kind of enemies inside the forest but at the same time, it cages him too inside the dome, something that was exactly what he was looking for, reinforcing the woods, he awoke another of his Authorities and prepare from the fight against his old and respected enemies.

Light emanated from inside the dome, clearly opposing the dark starless night of the outside, the authorities of the Campiones has clouded the night and only the intervention of a [Sun] authority will be able to clear the skies.

Golden, yellow and red clashed inside the dome, sometimes a loud animal cry could be ear from the outside as all three of them put all the cards under the table and call even divine beast under their myths to battle their fellow campiones.

It was not such an uncommon thing, lots of gods has favoured animals, Athenas [Owl], Odins [Wolf] or [Crow] and so on, this beasts, deeply tied with the myth and the divinity, could be called as summons by the gods, sometimes as guardians, sometimes as hounds or simply to cause destruction and havoc and remind the mortals, they are not alone in this planet.

Those same beast are passed along the Authorities to the campiones that managed to slain their origin, in most cases the god or goddess whose they have more affinity, for example, dragons are a common divine beasts for earth goddess and usually, they have dragons as guardians and protectors.

Under the unbreakable dome of reinforced wood, and hidden from the prying eyes of gods and campiones alike, all three of them unleashed their most powerful authorities, they was no respite for any of them, who exhausted all their resources into this final bout, to the fuck with the future, this was a too much fun battle to care about what will happen next.

The oldest campione was a sly dog and his dome has two clear purposes, one was to prevent any fugue and the other to hide his powers from the eyes of the gods, whose eyes were focused in the battle like hawks over bloodied preys.

His powers were not a secret from some gods but there are millions of divine beings in the other realm, some will never heard of him and others were eager to clash swords with the oldest and possibly, most powerful campione in the world right now.

However, the true intention of the vigilance, was none other than the King of the end a beings whose name and nature was hidden even from the wisest gods and goddess, few know the horrible truth about the essence that was hidden under the identity of the one that kills all campiones of the world at the end of each era.

But the oldest one was not one who callously runs into danger, he was after all the one that slain Odin and won some of his Authorities among that the ones called Sygtir, One who guarantees Victory and Yggr, The Terrible.

He was one who obliges him to win, no matter if he had to retort to the most underhanded tactics, he hated that Authority, it made him something he wanted to be, but the cunning and ruthless state of mind it granted to him was more than welcome in any situation as it gives him one hell of an advantage over a lot of rivals, specially hot headed ones like the most [War] related gods and Campiones or the ones that carried the [Steel] deep within their myths.

He chanted his arias, the chants that unleash the stolen divine rights over their enemies, no matter divine or mortals, those same arias that now were as part of his nature as they were from the gods and goddess they originated from.

In whispers, or when the mead and beer loosen up the tongues, some of his most trusted companions, lovers and friends, says that he will have to be already a new god, that he had nothing to envy from the gods, having accomplish dozen of great deeds, worthy of the sagas of the gods.

He didn't care, he didn't care at all about divinity, he was not a god, just an unlucky man who has to carry on the burden of being the last and only line of defence against the heretic gods that some times get down the earth and cause terrible catastrophes.

The golden glow brighter stronger and louder, not even the diamond hard wood could contain the storm and started to rumble, shacking when the power pushed against his constraining branches and root.

A twin red storm and a yellow radiance erupted at the same time that the golden glow grew to painful levels, in a crescendo of high pitched sounds originated from the sound of metal piercing through metal and flesh and the screeching sound of exploding metallic pieces.

With a final and brutal explosion, the wood was obliterated from the inside, sending branches and wood splinters in a hundred metres radius around the dome, the explosion has been so devastating that most of the roots of the dome were ripped out of the earth in a violent conflagration of energies.

From lighting to sun light and whatever was that red thing the spartan has managed to pull out of his sleeve, the result however has been too close for the oldest one to be comfortable with it, in all honesty he almost thought for a second that he was going to loose but miraculously his most trusted and powerful weapon managed to pierce the absolute defence of the spartan, giving him enough time to call upon his most violent authority and put an end to the battle with a massive explosion.

That was a close call but alas, he has come on top of the battle and once again be victorious, this was starting to get seriously bored for the last century, there was only other two campiones as older as him and only one of them was amicable with him.

Well, more than amicable, Dione was the Devil Queen that manages to kill Aphrodite with the arrows made from the teeth and poison of the blood of Medusa and she had inherited not only the Authorities of Aphrodite but her insatiable lust for love and romance.

She was convinced that only male powerful gods or Devil Kings are worthy of her and as the oldest Devil King, she has already made more than clear her point of woo him, by force if it was necessary.

Not need to mention, his actual wife has something to say about that, how could not feel in love with Vindra?, she headbutted a devil queen who was trying to stole her husband, thankfully the Völva did not need to get to the spells before he made Dione clear that he was married now and the vows he made were sacred, even if he was a Devil King.

She shrugged and smiled, she has all the time of world and she was telling the truth, Vindra will age and she will not, however that remark about how only a real woman is able to quell the lust of a Devil King was a rude from her.

Not entirely out place but rude anyway, it works both ways, only a god or a Devil King was capable of satisfying the appetites of a goddess or a Devil Queen.

Painting in loud gasps after the hard combat he has just fought, one that has been quite more difficult that he expected; the oldest one take some time to catch his second breath, this has taken a high toll on him and the battle was nearby ended.

He closed his eyes and search in his interior, looking for the Authorities he own and domain, among them and from the same origin of the one that has allow him to control the trees around him, was the bless of a goddess who he didn't wanted to kill but he had too, otherwise his people would have been sacrificed into a blood ritual that will bring back a dark facsimile of a real god, a corrupted monster that was neither god, neither divine being, but a mass of divine power and blood, who will only hunger for the flesh of the human and the gods.

Such are the common tragedies of the Campiones, they are confronted with the same tragical and impossible decisions that made the gods, the legends they are today.

Slowly, like a growing tree, his strength begun to come back to him, closing his wounds, cleansing his fatigue and tiredness, glowing in a soft and calm golden green, he smiled when the refreshing effect of the restorative Authority work its wonders on his old and battered body, bringing it back to his peak.

Still, he knew that he has leeched the life force of the nature life around him by forcing his power and rushing it to action, instead of letting the energy go at its correct and natural flow, unfortunately he has no time to lose.

The battle has just begun and despite his victory over the other two devil kings, he knew that he will not anything from them and instead he has only lessened their chances to face the King of the end and survive to its sacred mission of killing all the Campiones in the world.

He extended his hand and Gungnir obeyed the mandate of his master.

The spear was deeply buried in the broken and charred bronze shield of the spartan, piercing through his absolute defence as [Steel], one of the attributes he stole from Ares; and his body, cutting his heart in pieces and obliterating it inside of his body.

No matter if you are a deity of [Steel], that hurts a lot, in fact it hurts so much that not the unnatural resilience of the Campione has saved his life, and now he was a standing corpse of solid metal, although, the spartan had a happy and joyous smile on his face, barely covered by his helmet.

The oldest one sighed catching the returning spear and twirled it over his head before slamming it to the ground checking for any damages in the runes of the weapon or the weapon itself.

The spartan, no name, only the spartan was something akin to a friend, they have fought together and against each other in many occasions and it was an absolute pity that he had to kill him by his own hands.

The Egyptian on the other hand was a complete mystery for the oldest one, the corpse of the sand country Campione was sprayed over the wood in the corner of the destroyed dome, his body was a complete wreck as the golden storm of the oldest one has finally overthrow his own sun flare and destroy the incarnation of the [Falcon], the sacred bird of Horus whose wings flared with the sun and brought justice to the lands of the Nile.

The oldest one has meet thousands of persons in his long and hazardous life, and after all this time he has become quite the good character judge, not to mention one of the Authorities he had helped him to discern the truth and the Egyptian did seems a good man, too much into his I am the justice thing but his thirst for battle had nothing to envy from even the most [War] related gods and Campiones.

Clicking his tongue, the oldest one smiled to himself, one the most curious secondary effects of the recovery power he was using was how his mind tend to wander and how he was always looking at the bright side of life.

As it has been said before, he really regretted to kill the goddess from whom he obtain the recovery Authority, independently of how useful it was and how after being able to completely dominate it, it was able to bring him back to life if the conditions are adequate.

With his body and soul recovered, the oldest one observed the battle that was taking place in the valley under the mountains they have travel in a second looking for a good enough place to held his own death match against two fellow campiones.

And what he saw make him frown, things were not looking good, the battle against the King of the end was a complete carnage, from the seven campiones only three, him among those three were still standing.

Channelling some power to his soul, the oldest one bring forth the steed of Odin himself, the eight legged horse Sleipneir, the best horse among gods and men, using the power of the horse to travel immense distances in a moment, the oldest one gallop over the lands, indifferent to terrain, craters, waters or any kind of obstacle, they were nothing for the massive and powerful horse who was as eager to battle as his master, the horse was a war horse alright and he had not problem in travelling through hell itself if that is what is needed o reach his objective.

And that was his weaknesses, the horse need an objective, it could only be pointed as a missile, goes from the point A to B, no matter the obstacles but there must be a point A and point B and considering the speed the stallion could reach it was hard to give him objectives in a fraction of a second, specially if you are in the middle of the combat, where you have to be specific and do not simply run head on to the blade of your enemy.

The travel itself was made in a second, such was the speed of the horse of the king of the Aesir and the oldest one dismounted his horse and let him vanish in the myth were he did came from, now that his purpose has been fulfilled.

Taking a second to observe the battlefield in more detail, the oldest one sighed, there was enough magic energy floating around in the atmosphere, that any mortal will be overwhelmed by the raw power around them.

For the Campione on the other hand was just the bell that marks the beginning of another round in their interminable battle against heretic gods and among themselves, still, such amount of residual energy was messing his senses badly, it was like a permanent mist of ozone all around his sharp and enhanced senses, dulling them.

Not a good sensation, specially for one that had beast among their affinities and powers, as one domains his affinities and uses it, some attributes of said animals slips in the mind of the campione, not entirely but enough to change a little their already eccentric behaviours.

Of course, first one has to had said animals completely dominated, completely under control , otherwise they will simply rebel or annoy their master, or if the beast is a slippery and cunning one, it would betray its master if the need arises.

Myths are had more than enough examples of betrayals, not all beings with blood, but almost all of them end with blood, buckets of it.

This was not an exception of the rule, at the end, their own instincts has betrayed them, the King of the end, has called them to battle and as Devil Kings they have feel obliged to make act of appearance and face the one that has challenge them into possible the battle of the ages.

The oldest one sighed and sniffed the air, the stingy sensation of the massive amount of magical energies pierced his nose like a needle but then he caught a very specific smell and the sadness invaded his hearth.

He run into the battlefield, in the close distance he could seem how the another survivors where still standing his ground against the overpowering white aura and light of the killer of Campiones, its form was not free of damages but even with all the crippling wounds, the bastard was still winning.

Damn it, damn it to Nilfheimr, may the goddess of death find you and bury you in the deepest and darkest corners of their domains for all the eternity.

The oldest one travel the distance that separated him from the source of the smell that has shock him in a blur, there was no need of summonings or chantings when your own body is so enhanced with power that you are way beyond any human limits.

He landed at the side of the laying form of a beautiful woman dress with a green toga that only hugged her spectacular female forms like a lover, her gold burn air was sprayed on the floor and her immaculate skin was marred by the fountain of blood that erupted from a nasty and cruel wound on her stomach, a silver arrow was deep on her belly, piercing her flesh and divinity.

He recognize the arrow, he has felt those in his own skin more than once, the owner of the arrow was obsessed with being the greatest hunter on earth, surpassing even the gods itself and now she has claimed another reward.

It was stupid beyond measure right now, but once again, the instincts of the Devil Kings has betrayed them, she has felt the weakness of Dione and took the chance to end her and claim her head as trophy.

It was odd, nonetheless, she should have already claim the head of Dione but the wounded Greek woman was still there, bleeding to death over a charred lands, far away from her home and loved ones, only her unrequited lover was at her side, comforting her on her last moments.

Soon all get more clear with a brutal gust of wind cleared the saturated air and allow the oldest one to see the body of the huntress rip in half, still standing on her own two feet and her torso and half of her strong and hardened face completely mesh up a few hundreds metres to the left side.

She has kill Dione but someone has delivered to her the same fate, Verdandi, Skuld and Urdr must been laughing their asses off about all this, those damn Norns always had one sick of humour.

The oldest kneel at the side of the woman who opened one of her closed eyes, even in her deathbed she was damn elegant, like she was being attended by one of her uncountable number of lovers, attendants and sycophants.

"Too late now northern one" chuckled her and despite her teeth were marred in blood, it did not lessened her beauty, just put it in a more animal and savage view " that coal skinned bitch shoot me when I was busy ripping apart that cursed white light" hissed in annoyance to the devastated corpse of the African Devil Queen.

"I´m sorry Dione, I should have been here" apologize the oldest one taking one her hands in his and trying to channel his own recovery Authoroty on her but he was not completely recovered and the high magical resistance of the Campione acted against her this time.

"Don't bother my love, I know I am death and no miracle will heal me this time" she sighed, she has lost all sensations from her neck below long ago.

"Never give up Dione" smiled the oldest one combing her gold like hair with care " we are the impossible made flesh, what is another miracle for us?".

The crystalline laugh of the dying Devil Queen filled the battlefield.

"That's why I loved you my northern king" she increased her grip over the hand of the oldest one and shook his head " you were the storm that shackled my soul, the beast I will never tame, the only man I will ever loved".

"I know" said the oldest one kissing her forehead, he could not save her life but that´s no excuse for not soothing her pain, allowing her to die in peace and with smile in her lips.

"Its the curse of the Devil Kings, their arrogance to do not recognize what they have lost until they have lost it" whispered the oldest one, as all the campione he was not free from the sin of arrogance, firm in his belief that in due time the immortal lover will be together again but alas, the fate has intervene and kill one of the few women that could understand what is being him.

He raised the head of the dying woman and kissed her, with the spare strength she has recovered from the breath of life he has poured on her before, he hugged the strong frame of the oldest one and deepened the kiss, they entangled their tongues and the passion overflow them in a moment, a blue and golden spark that sung of love for a second.

None of them hold back and poured all her feelings in that last kiss, trying to compensate an eternity of love into the last breath of the dying Devil Queen of the Polis of Aegium, their magic powers, their divine essence mixed together in a perfect mix of blue and gold, until the form of the Dione fell limp and the life abandon her stunningly beautiful body, that not even death could smear her features.

She has died in peace and in the arms of the only man she ever loved, pity the man was already married and was devoted to his wife but that was perhaps part of the tragedy that all the Greek seems to cherish in all their theatricals.

Anyhow she has died as happily as she could, considering that all the campiones are destined to die in violence or emulating the same tragedies that fall upon the shoulders of the protagonist of the myth they have stolen their powers.

Her last thought was of love, a goodbye only for his soul to ear.

"I will always love you, Magnus Blacksson, my Northern king, my Devil King".

But the oldest one was far from happy, in fact was angered, not, better said he was furious at levels that only gods are capable if understand and fear.

[Berserkir], the chosen warriors of the Aesir, men and women touched by the gods and empowered way beyond any human limits, warriors without fear that will clash against an army and just tear them apart as if they were paper foil in the wake of their rage.

He was one of them, long before he became a Campione, he was a warrior touched by the gods, a berserkr, "one who wears a bear shirt", whose totem was the powerful bear and who worshipped Thor.

He kill his first deity in the name of the Aesir when he took down the Inuit god Nanook and obtain the [Polar Bear] incarnation, a power that matched his own animal totem and who has protected him ever since the day he died and meet the vivacious Pandora in the afterlife.

All the battles, all the deeds and miracles, all the adventures and he was still the same idiot that almost a millennium ago.

Wrath erupted from him in a golden and silver explosion of lighting and ice, his powers flared like a lighthouse in the night and the oldest one roared, his thunderous roar, more akin to the one of a savage and frenzy bear than a human war cry, cracked the already more than punished lands adding an extra layer of cracks and scars on the earth.

Taking the reins of his anger with the practice of one that has done similar things dozen times in the past, the oldest one caress the face of the peacefully smiling Dione, he channel power to the earth and the earth responded, surrounding the woman in a beautiful casket of wood, flowers and roots, surrounding her healing body and burying her slowly and tenderly in the earth.

The earth will deliver her to Aegium, the polis of Greek she loved and protected from gods and mortals alike, her kin could cry the lost of her protector and the woods will heal her body, so she will be as beautiful in death as she was in live.

The oldest one roared and the earth tremble at his steps, when he started to walk directly into the battle, there was only three campiones in the way of the King of the end, the one that slain devil kings and heros with the same easiness.

The oldest one didnt care, he was way beyond words now, his power flared as advise to the other two survivors.

Get the hell out of my way, this is my prey and to make this point crystal clear...

Soon he stop walking, simply because he was now standing over the broad back of a humongous polar bear of pristine fur, the beast open his maws and thundered with a roar that came out like a gale of chilling winds and ice spikes that assaulted the white aura of the King of the end like the hammer of Thor.

No matter how powerful you were, the [Polar bear] was the incarnation of the freezing tundras of the Ice lands in the northern corner of the planet, the blizzards that generates there are more than enough to freeze to death even the most powerful animals and this blizzard was empowered by the rage and magic of the oldest one.

Like a frozen missile, the King of the end fly in the distance almost a kilometre, before he crashed like a meteor against the surface of the earth, erasing the grass and creating a two metres deep crater just with his fall.

The oldest one raise his runic spear and command the bear to eviscerate the King of the end , whose armour and sword was already showing signs of being severely beaten up, fill of cracks and scratches, burns and smears.

However he was no pushover and soon recovered the balance and shoot a dozen white balls like celestial stars to stop the bear in his charge, the oldest one call for the aid of he skies, erecting a dazzling wall of lighting in the wake of the balls.

Stunned a little about how four of the balls were capable of piercing the wall of lighting, he jumped from the back of the bear and call forth his steed, dismissing the bear before the balls could hurt the incarnation of the Inuit good.

The time slowed down, or better said, his perception hastened to the point that everything seems to be in perfect slow motion, such was the speed that Sleipneir could grant to his rider, the domain of the god speed, where everything stands still while you moved with the speed of the thought.

Sleipnir and the oldest one charge like one against their enemy but even with the incredible speed that the horse gives the oldest one, the hero killer managed to parry the spear before it could pierce his head with all the inertia accumulated from charge at the speed of light.

One good thing about the Authorities is that they defied common sense and the rules of the world, on the other hand, it only means that your rival will do exactly the same thing with their Authorities.

The clash still send them flying in the night air, in a display of acrobatics and speed, both recovered their balance and start attacking each other, one with a glowing white sword that burned the divine like it was dry grass and the other with a rune etched spear that pierced the white aura of the enemy of all campione with each golden thrust.

It didn't matter to none of them that all this exchange was happening heads down and while they were travelling through the air, riding the shock waves of their previous clash, literally in the case of the oldest one, that was still on the saddle of Sleipneir as indifferent as his enemy about how they were defying gravity like it was nothing.

Once you are a Devil King long enough, you get used to it, why use common sense in a battle where the reality need a drink every minute?, considering who were the two fighters it was no surprise that neither of did even blink in the face of the impossibility.

They landed in synchrony but was the oldest one, the one who won the initiative and launch a furious rain of spear strikes over the figure of the King of the end, the constant strikes makes the King retreat a little as he parried and dodged the flurry of strikes from the runic weapon of the oldest one.

When he opened enough space between both of them, raised the sword over its shoulder and send a thousand of white waves of pure destruction to the oldest one, he observed the incoming doom and smirked sightly before the horse under him neighed in despite and vanish, leaving an after effect like form.

The mirage was promptly rip apart by the waves, at the same time rider and mount appeared just over the King, who by the way disappeared in a very similar manner, this time being his after image the one crushed under the power of the rider and the mount.

The King reappeared at their side and slashed in a wide arc with its blade, the oldest one recovered the vertical and parried the white sword with his spear just to observe astonished how the sword managed to nick and inch on the indestructible metal of the spear.

Gungnir was a weapon of legend, nothing could destroy the runic spear and yet there was a white unnamed sword, who has just achieve the impossible, he really hated when they counterattack with the same irrationality that made him Campione in the first place.

In a sudden inspiration, he grab the arm of the sword, clenching his teeth for the sudden and brutal pain he experimented after grabbing the arm and aura of the King, and throw him out balance, disengaging the spear and the sword and jumping over him, tossing him to the ground and raising his spear into a thrust that will pierce its head.

The world went white when the aura of the King exploded in all directions like a supernova, caught in the epicentre of the explosion, the oldest one and his steed only have time to widen their eyes and brace for the sudden and scorching impact of the massive and devastating power of the killer of Campiones.

The dome of light flared for a second before went back to the frame of the King of the end, who raised from the floor and look for his enemies, he walk a couple of steps before a flock of ravens appeared from nowhere clouded its vision, sharp claws and beaks rained over it, ready to tear it apart piece by piece in a cacophony of caws and fluttering of wings.

Moving his sword in wide arcs, each one of them effectively killing one of the ravens, who disappeared in a puff of shadows when the sword cuts them, the King didnt notice how a dozen of roots were growing in the earth focused as it was in killing the flock of murderous raves.

The roots trap his legs in a moment and the second it noticed how he was trap, he produced another devastating white flare, obliterating both roots and ravens, with a casual flick of his sword, he send another ball of doom to the form of the oldest one, who was pointing his hands at him, creating a big ball of lighting between them.

Both balls collided but the white one soon overpowered the lighting one and get through it, burying itself in the chest of the oldest one, who vanished like a mirage when the ball caved his chest.

A little surprised, the King of the end, look out for his enemy and when the sky clouded and a devastating arrow made of pure lighting crashed over it, charring its armour and putting the King on his knees, the King turned his gaze to the heavens and immediately recognized the flying from of the oldest one, who was floating in the middle of a electric storm, picking lightnings and transforming them into bow and arrows, throwing them at the King.

The arrows travelled fast and slam against the aura of the King in a battle of electricity versus light, something completely impossible by any logical and common sense physics, however this is the realm of the myth, were the common sense is throw out of the window as soon as the heretic gods enters through the door.

The aura of the King subdued the lighting arrow and destroyed it in a show of sparks, before raising the sword to the sky and starting to conglomerate all the aura it carries around, the ball of white whatever it was started to expand at an alarming rate and the oldest one saw in astonishment how the earth, the electricity, the air, even the damn magic power that saturated the battlefield was being devoured by that white aura of the King.

Even the oldest one was baffled, he was never saw anything like that, not even when he battled with those strange deities of Africa or the blue tattooed deities of the Tuatha, their powers he could comprehend but this white thing defied his understanding.

However, even if the [Magic] he gained from Odin could not pierce exactly the veil that surrounded what power was exactly this odd thing, the oldest one knew it was fucking dangerous nonetheless and the less he is being hit by it, the better.

And speaking about magic, the Authority he gained from Odin when he bested the Aesir in one of the most lethal fights in his life was telling him that that white thing was dissolving everything, even magic, so the King was about to shoot at him a massive ball or ray or stream like the breath of a dragon, of a thing that will corrode his magic.

That could be a hell of a gamble, his restorative powers against a thing that corrodes and destroy divine Authorities.

Well, today was not the day for such a bet.

The oldest one pointed his hand down, accumulating all the power of the storm that he has created with the Authority of the same name and at the same time the King created his white projectile, the oldest one created his own.

A massive ball of lighting, slowly gaining a gold and apple like colour and shape, formed in front of the oldest one, who keep his focus in controlling one of the oldest incarnations of the [Storm] that Perun from the Bogovi used to destroy his enemies and make humanity cower in fear from the power of the skies.

It was curious how golden apples were the common ground on where a male god of war and storm and a goddess of the earth and live, was the golden apples, for ones symbol of absolute destruction, and on the other hand, symbol of eternal life to the others.

Perun challenge him once for the apples and he battled the god in defence of the same goddess that he killed once, something that he regretted deeply but as Devil King, his responsibility was with humanity first.

The oldest one chanted the words that freed the power, an attack that could obliterate an entire city, a attack that was deeply engraved in the minds of the Slavic people, as the wrath of his patron god.

"As I posses the golden apple and threw it high into the sky, the lightning bolts should burst from the sky, not an eyewitness left, not even to say how they died!"

The sky erupted in a massive electrical storm, concentrating in the golden apple until the bomb of divine power and electricity feel from the sky directly at the King, who without a word command the white humongous ball to fly and destroy the golden ball.

The clash of the powers was something that no mortal world could describe, it was the wrath of the gods falling on earth...literally.

As the golden orb stomped his way into the white one, it appears clear that his job was not a prove of strength but to grab the white and use his own power against him, slamming both of them down like the hammer of a god.

Being completely honest, the King of the end was genuinely surprised when one of its aces under the sleeve just crash down on it like a vengeance but it was not the first time he had dodge such impending dooms, it has the god speed among its powers, the capability of travel miles in less than a second at the speed of light.

Although, that only happens when your feet are free.

It was the second time the damn campione caught him in the same damn trick, a hint of annoyance appeared on the visage of the King of the end however its battle senses flared like houselights, alarming the King about the pincer attack that two clones of the oldest one were trying to pull on him, one from the left and one from the right.

The King didn't worry much about the attack, the sword raised and moved in a two ways attack, cutting both sides in a upward and downward motion as fast as the god speed could provide, that means both cuts has been done at light speed.

What the King didn't expected was for the twin to but ripple like images in the surface of the water when the white glowing sword cut both of them in a spectacular and too quick for the eyes, display of swordsmanship and speed.

Then the King realized the mistake that has been committed.

Even at a speed of light, he will not be able to dodge the ball of lighting and white completely, they were too close and the area of effect of the attacks will be absurd, more than probably it could erase a pair of mountains with easiness or completely vaporize a city like the Greek polis near the Mediterranean.

The white aura covered the body of the King, destroying the roots that had his feet imprisoned, reinforcing the body or more better said, destroying anything that comes into contact with the glow.

The time and the space around the King seems to stand still, all adopting a tonality of black and white, once one enters into the god speed all the universe became blurry, there are some heretic gods like Hermes whose speed is so great that all he can see is a blue and white tunnel when he runs at his max speed.

The King get out of the epic enter of the explosion and when he was about to reach the end of the incoming bombs of pure destructive power, lowered its eyes to see in astonishment, the golden and rune etched head of the spear Gungnir that has pierced the glow and the body under it with immense force.

Dragging both inside the explosion of white whatever and lighting, the oldest one pushed the spear deeper into the body of the King who buried his sword in the chest of the oldest one, nicking his lungs and making him puke blood as the white aura corroded his divine enhanced body like a mix between a poison and an acid.

The oldest one did not even blink from the pain or the incoming death, he had a work to do and now he had the bastard exactly where he wanted, in the middle of the explosion of both energies, one that he could not absorb because of the lighting mixed with it, as the King was not a deity of the storm.

He changed the trajectory of the piercing and with the prodigious and unmeasurable strength the [Polar Bear] granted him, he nailed the body of the King into the floor, piercing the chest and armour the killer of all Campiones possess, effectively immobilizing him, exactly in the centre of the incoming devastation.

They did not exchange words or curses, the battle was over and both know it, the sword was killing him but the King knew that he will not be able to scape from the explosion, not with the spear that was piercing the armour and flesh on the chest of the King of the end.

Despite all the violence and death, both has to admit it has been a glorious battle and a complete carnage, there will be no more Campione, the King of the end has won but at the same time, it has cost the King his live and that will means that they will be more Campione, there will be another era after the defeat, the King has suffered at the hands of the oldest one.

The King was not the usual heretic god, not a campione, it was something stranger, a thing made to be the catalyst of the change of the eras, a being made of purpose, none, not even the wisest gods or goddess have a clue about that the heck that thing was, except a few and they are totally tight lipped on the matter.

However, that doesn't means that the King had not develop traits, among one of those traits was the honourable appearance it usually takes when something or someone managed to impress the King long enough.

"Whose your name warrior?" asked the King of the end before the explosion vaporized both of them in a cloud and thunder that will make any nuclear weapon pale in shame.

"Magnus Blacksson" replied the oldest one with a feral smile in his lips.

It has been a god live.

The explosion consume both of them, between the white and lighting, the energies just seems like a band of hungry piranhas devouring completely their prey, their flesh was stripped from their bones in a matter of seconds, first their skins, then with a golden glow, their muscles and tendons disappeared, another glow and the wind, charged with energy, evaporated whatever soft tissue they still kept on their skeletons.

The bones of a god and a Campione are one of the most hardest materials on earth but against the level of power they were dealing with, soon both of their skeletons was destroyed and picked up by the massive wind gust that the explosion generated, their powers clashed against each other, no matter if they both were already long die by then trying to overcome each other and in a final clash that faintly resemblance a nuclear explosion, they collapse, destroying all in their wake in hundred of miles around, vaporizing any proof of what has happened this day and relegating this glorious battle as a side note in the chronicles of mankind.

Forgotten for everyone except for those who loved the Campione and the world of magic but the one that did not forgot at all the oldest one was his adoptive and vivacious mom, who waited for him in the afterlife.

Not every day one of her sons achieve the deed that none other god of Campione has ever done, killing the King of the end, their unique and personal nemesis.

Well, there was that poor and cute boy of Yamato who would do it in the future, probably, it was still up for debate, still he will be the only one who will be capable of vanquishing Verethragna and his antics with his harem are most amusing.

She has to prepared for welcoming her child, she was eager to talk to Magnus, it has almost been five decades since he visited her and she was going to give her a piece of her mind, how could he worry her like that?, no good son does that to his mom.

The space between

No time possible

Magnus had a horrific headache, he had the mother of all headaches, and that was supposedly impossible, his healing factor as Campione and the restorative ability of the[Golden Apples] makes him almost immune to all sickness, poison or wound, no matter how grievous it could be.

Well, that was knew, first time in a century he had such a hangover and what is worst is that he has not drink a single drop of ale or mead or beer or wine before, this is nuts, hangovers are for After the drinking, not for Before...although that could only means he was about to drown himself in a river of booze if his healing factor could not compensate the alcohol in his system.

Now that will be something to wait for...unless, its not for alcohol but for the little fact that he has been vaporized to the last piece of flesh and bone by a massive storm of golden lighting and whatever that white thing of the King of the end was.

Uh, best battle ever. Sucked to die at the end but still it has been great, a truly challenge...

Pity Dione didn't make it, damn the huntress for all the eternity, that was not the moment to kill a honourable woman like Dione, she didn't deserve it, she was the best of the Campiones, a good but playful woman who ruled over Aegium with wisdom and justice.

So many lives lost by the whim of a Divine ancestor who managed to find and awoke that bastard of the King of the end, even at the end he has been unable to determinate what in Hellas name, was under the armour of the King, it was androgynous, perhaps it would have something to do about what does the Campiones thinks about who will kill them.

Until a decade ago, he has never even ear about the King of the end, it was a legend about the thing that comes out when the number of Campione is to high for the balance and the King kills them all, leaving the planet free from the influence of the Campiones.

On the other hand, no campiones means that the places is open business for any heretic god who felt playful that morning and gets down to earth to revive a little of their myth, not really caring a shit about what it could do to the mortals around them.

Plague, war, strife, natural disasters, etc, were the usual consequences of their actions, only when they fought among them and the plots of the Divine ancestors to recover their divine essence or to fulfil a vendetta, are the heretic gods stopped or tried to be stopped.

Magnus always thought the system was complete mess, everything must face his wyrd at some point, his last day, his Ragnarok, there is nothing eternal, just long and lonesome. He knows it well, he has buried twenty wives so far, he could remember her names with crystal clarity, along their faces and smiles, he burned it with runes in his soul, to never forgive those he love.

His friends, companions, brothers, sisters and lovers, no matter what, those dear to Magnus had a place in his heart, as he will engrave their names and deeds forever in his soul; his [Fimbulthurl] the master of all magic Authority, one of the many names of Odin, allow him to do things like this.

Growling a little and with his eyes closed, Magnus just keep laying in whenever he was, didn't really care if Hella was after his ass or in hell, now he will nurse his hangover and fell a little miserable for what has happened.

He has failed, that was the single truth, he has failed and now his people was defenceless against all the bastards that hold a grudge against them, the Romans, the Tuatha, the Celtic tribes and the hunters of Chernobolg will go after his clan and kingdom now that he was not there to face the supernatural.

They are going to die and it was his fault.

"Ah, No!, no way in hell are you going to mope around!" a child voice echoed in all the place and what worst, it rings with the headache he was felling, still it was good to see that she was as lively as ever.

Suddenly he felt how something land over his stomach, it was a good thing that his body was incredible sturdy otherwise will be throwing his guts out, as it has been said before, she has not changed at all.

"Magnus I am going to punch you!" announce the woman shacking a fist in the air with a menacing glance.

Slowly, Magnus sat in a more comfortable position, hiding his face over the shoulder of the little girl, a girl millennium older but who act and behaves like a child, despite being the adoptive mother of all Campiones.

Pandora was taken aback a little for the sudden hug of the gigantic man, like all his peers he was tall, an eight feet giant of broad torso and powerful body, built to war form head to toe, however all the times he has been in the netherworld, he has never been so emotional.

"Greetings Pandora, I'm sorry, I failed" whispered the man and she smiled sadly, noticing the faint humid touch of a pair of tears over her neck and shoulder, she returned the hug and slowly made circles with her little hands over the strong back of the man.

"Its OK, Magnus, it has to happen but I'm proud of you" said the girl back, it has been so long since one of her children hugged her, she will wish it was not because of sadness and despair but it could be fixed.

"I'm sorry Pandora, I fail" repeated Magnus " the King kills us all, no Campione has survived the ordeal".

"Fate is a bitch sometimes" softly whispered Pandora before broking the hug and look at the campione in the eyes, he was devastated in mind, body and soul, the King of the end has done numbers on him, no matter if the King was nothing but a pup after Magnus finished him.

"Do not blame you Magnus, you were the greatest and you has done what it has to be done" tried to cheer Pandora her children kissing her forehead and hugging him again, now that's how a mom should to things no?...

"I was the stronger of them, I lead the charge but then the Spartan and the slayer of Horus attacked me instead of the King of the end" tell Magnus the history of the battle.

He hugged back the petite woman with arms capable of crush the back of a bear but she knew, he will never do something like that, for someone so big and strong it was surprising how delicately could he be around the people he care.

"When I kill them, they left me no choice, I went back to the battle but Dione was killed by the Huntress and the others were already on their last leg" sighed Magnus " I killed the bastard but the price of the victory is to high".

"I know Magnus" Pandora smiled to the man, a true smile "but it was your fate, you were the greatest of your era, you did what no one could before, you killed the King of the end and now it will be chained in the deeps of the oceans near Yamato".

"Yamato?" ask Magnus confused " what is that?".

"A land of isles long past the lands of the Bogovi and the Celestial Bureaucracy" explained Pandora " few of your kin has ever pass over those lands, there is nothing for them there".

"Uh, pity, I always loved to explore new lands...that's how I end as campione in the first place" smiled warily Magnus remembering how he killed a gigantic polar bear, that was none than the god Nanook of the Inuit.

That day was the best of his life, he has gained a place in the sagas of his people and that was all he wanted as a boy, well, that and booze, women and a good weapon at his side.

He always was a man of simple desires but the centuries and experience soon changes your mind.

"Do not worry, another will raise from that land and he will be as golden as you" raised his fists Pandora in the air, cheering the northern Campione "he will kick some serious ass and became as much playboy as you".

"Pandora" sighed Magnus, enjoying the childishness of the woman who knows all, literally as her Authority was [Omniscience] and she lived in the Netherealm, the place where all the memories are stored, past, present and future.

"Oh, come on, how many wives did you have in life eh?" poked incessantly the girl the broad chest of Magnus with a sly smile on her face " not to mention the hundred of mistress that were after your bones no matter where do you travel".

"I never disrespect any of them Pandora, you know it" taped the nose of the girl who pouted and puffed her checks like any little girl would do " and I always was faithful to all my wives, I never cheated on them".

Pandora growled with a smile and jumped at Magnus, climbing his shoulders and back and munching his head in vengeance for the tap on the tip of the nose.

"Ah! Tremble at my rage" said Pandora between grinding her teeth against the white mane of Magnus, his hair became white as the one of a polar bear as soon as he became a campione and gain the [Polar bear] from the deceased god.

Magnus sighed, his headache was not getting any better and having an hyperactive kid munching the top of your head was not helping at all, Pandora get bored of the punishment not too long after that, not only the head of Magnus was hard as a diamond but the white hair of his tasted like cold snow.

Leaning her head over his and letting her twin pigtails dropping at the sides of the man, she sighed and hugged his chest.

"Not blame yourself for of what happens in the world Magnus, humans always finds a way to hurt each other, that's how they advance, through suffering and adversity" smiled Pandora in a soft voice, she has been the adoptive mother of dozens of Campione through the eras and always feels like a stab in the heart every time one of them perished, no matter if he was a devil or a saint.

"There are my people Pandora" sighed loudly Magnus scratching his five o´clock shadow over all his chin and checks " they trusted me and I left them and Vindra for a foolish calling, a quest that has only lead to disaster and to the death of all the Devil Kings and Queens, who will face the gods now?".

"There will be other who pick up the mantle Magnus" bounced Pandora over his head and chest raising her fist to the empty sky " there is always fools like you who don't know when to surrender and keep going".

"Ha, that's one of the best descriptions I have ever ear about the Devil Kings" chuckled without real humour the deceased Devil King, he was proud of his victory but the cost and the consequences are too much.

"I know, why do you thing the gods call the Devil Kings the children of the fool and the witch?" Pandora sighed leaning over the head of Magnus.

The hand of Magnus caught her her by the toga she was wearing and put her in front of his face, Pandora was a little surprised by the action and blinked a pair of times as she hanged like some kind of kitty in front of her favourite children.

"You are not a witch, neither Epimeteus is a fool" said Magnus very seriously but when he saw the teary eyes of Pandora he shut up, it was not his intention to saddened her.

"You do care!" she shouted and cried before jumping at him and hugging him with the strength of a polar bear, good thing he was a Campione, otherwise he will be dead by murderous love hug, now that will be awkward.

"Well, of course I do Pandora" said Magnus still baffled by the emotive reaction of the girl, was it possible that the rest of the Devil Kings and Queens are just a bunch of buffoons that do not respect the one that they own they miserable lives?.

"You give me the chance to the something as great as the heroes and gods in the tales I listened when I was nothing but a snotty kid" combed the pigtails of the goddess "I lived adventures that the Skalda could only dream, my saga is the saga of a god, an Aesir and a worthy Jarl for my people, although I do fear for them now that I am not around, that is not motive to not be proud of my achievements and all of that is thanks to you and Epimeteus".

Pandora hugged fiercely the Devil King, it has been so long since one of her children actually cared for her, he could visit more often but she knew that the campiones could only reach her in a very specific occasions, one of them was actually die and she didn't want to lose any of her children, not even when the King of the end restore the balance.

Suddenly Pandora stiffened and look at him very seriously, Magnus was even more baffled for the sudden attitude changes of the little goddess of wisdom, but when she shouted at him, he couldn't but laugh his ass of.

"Then why the fuck hasn't you called me mama once?!" roared the purplenette puffing in annoyance.

Magnus rolled on the floor grabbing his sides in laughter, that was all that matter for the little crazy goddess?, now the respect he had for Epimeteus raised a notch if he was able to put it up with the antics of his crazy wife.

"Pandora" tried to catch his breath Magnus and explain himself but then the girl kicked him so hard that send him skying on the floor for a dozen metres, Yggdrasil be bless, she could have torn him apart with that kick...

"Ouch Pandora, dully noted, never laugh at you again" raise a hand in surrender Magnus slowly getting up from the floor.

"Ah, so you are finally learning lad?" asked a strong and deep voice.

As soon as he eared it, Magnus entered in battle mode, his magic powers skyrocketing, that was the voice of someone who you don't want to fuck at all, it was the voice of one of the most powerful beings in existence and the one from whom Magnus stole a lot of powers near his first century as Campione.

"Oi greybeard how the fuck did you managed to get in here?" pouted Pandora raising and agitating her arms in protest with her fist closed.

"Peace She who knows all and Devil King, I do come in peace and with an offering of food and ale" laughed in a deep tone the intruder making a gesture and summoning an enormous table, full to the brim with succulent roasted meat and the most delicious mead Magnus has never smelt.

"Ah, oh" drooled Pandora but she shook her head, clean her drool and look suspiciously to the intruder, who keep standing with a smile over his greybeard face " spilt it One eye, you never do shit if it did not means a benefit for your kin".

"True indeed" shrugged the one eyed old man, whose aura has nothing to envy the one of Pandora and who was slowly resonating with the one of Magnus, after all, he was the origin of a good deal of his powers " It will be foolish from me to try to scam you or your protegee Pandora, but fell no ill intentions from me, enjoy the food and the booze, meanwhile the lad and I will talk about how he has been during the last centuries".

Pandora look at the fest, then at both northern men, then at the feast and with a praying gesture as apology to Magnus, she jumped at the food like a wolf over a bloodied prey.

Magnus could barely contain his laugh at the image but then he stiffened again when Odin, the same Odin he bested in combat appeared near him with a table and to wooden chairs, over the table was a barrel of the delicious mead.

"Perish the fears lad, I came in peace and I will left in peace" said Odin filling a tankard with the mead, drinking it in one gulp and after refilling two tankards, throw one of them to Magnus who caught the tankard in the air and gulped down its contents at the same time as Odin.

"Now we are getting somewhere lad, came, sit and talk with an old man about Midgard and how is the life going around" laughed Odin and Magnus has to admit that the god did seems to have come in peace.

It would be the first time in all his life in where Magnus has talk to a god, excluding Pandora and other Campiones, and the conversation has not ended in violence or the promise of a future battle.

It was a welcoming change actually, this was the first he could have a drink with a god, and considering it was the god from whom he stolen a lot of more than useful Authorities, that has granted him victory in a dozen of occasions, he admit that his curiosity has been picked by the Lord of the Aesir.

"Exactly the same for the last two centuries" shrugged Magnus "some occasional fight with the Romans, the clans of the Tuatha, the Celts and exploring the frozen lands of the north of our lands, that places is a cold as the nipple of a witch".

Odin nodded, he too considered the people under the Inuit an strange bunch, there was nothing in that forsaken old land where nothing can grow and all the place is as frozen as the heart of Yimir.

" And those are good times" smiled Odin " but the era is changing my friend and soon we will be forgotten and new gods will take our place or transform us into a new ones, much like Melkarth and Sol".

Magnus sighed, he knew about those things, when he defeated Perun he didn't shut up about how the Aesir has stole his legend and give it to a woman, degrading the father of the heaven to a simple gardener and a woman.

It was bullshit but Perun was not the most clever of the gods and when he found about the apples of Idunn, he enraged and attack him as the most similar he had at hand as part of the Nordmanni people.

That was idiotic considering his first Authority came from the older frozen lands of Jotunheim and beyond, taken from the corpse of a gigantic Polar bear, the avatar of Nanook the hunter.

But, that were details for the enraged Slavic god who attack Magnus and only by a twist of fate was he able to turn the tides and finally vanquish the furious father of the skies and winning his [Storm] from him, that was the second time he visited Pandora and how he started to get interested more in the arcane arts of his people.

"Times do change Sigtyr" called Magnus the god by one of his titles, the same one that allows him to handle Gungnir and to be even more deadly on the battlefield " the mortals will always found something new to idolize, only to quickly substitute it when it fails them".

"Quite a pessimistic view of your own race don't ya thing lad?" laughed Odin drinking from his tankard and enjoying the vision of the food devouring Pandora, she will never ear the end of it.

"Nordmanni are like that, we prefer to be prepared and considering our harsh homeland do you really blame us Harbardr, the grey bearded?" chuckled Magnus enjoying the spectacle and taking a sip from the mead Odin has so graciously bring to the table but then he look onto the beverage and slowly a smile crept on the corners of his mouth, clever Odin, very clever boy.

"We are like our home, harsh, strong and proud" laughed loudly Odin " and stop using Heiti, titles of the gods, call me by the name of Odin, Lord of Asgard".

"Pity, I had about twenty one Heitis more to run over you Lord Odin" smiled Magnus " and its funny because I only knew nine until now and please do not even try to hide your little trick with the temple and the presence of Pandora, she is so engrossed in her feast now that we could dance a jig around her and she wouldn't even notice".

Odins only eyes glowed in mirth and respect for the cleverness of the old Campione, he has been quick to detect what the mead really was and turn it into part of the conversation, it was too part of his plan but now comes the most difficult part of all this.

"Sorry lad, but I need you to be of clear mind and clever enough to see the benefit of what I propose this day" smiled Odin between his grey beard, his only eye focus in Magnus who returned the stare with curiosity.

What they were drinking was nothing other than Kvasir, an elixir made when two dwarfs killed the god of the same name and after draining all his blood, they mixed it with honey, creating the Mead of poetry.

Anyone who drinks from the mead will gain Skaldaship, the gift of the poetry, and wisdom beyond mortals.

In resume, Odin has gifted him with wisdom and the skills of the Skalda to compose Eddas, the sagas of the Nordmanni and the way of keeping the old myths and achievements of his compatriots alive.

It was a tremendous gift and a huge responsibility and despite his laid back attitude and suspicions, Magnus was overwhelmed for the gift, Odin has almost gave him an Authority out of the blue and he could not but suspect what were the real motives of the old god.

"Not the answer I was looking for Lord Odin" said Magnus, still drinking his Kvasir, now that the cat was out of the bag, there was no reason not to enjoy the delicious mead, the fact that was made of blood and honey didn't affect him the slightest, in his life he has saw, taste and suffer a lot of worst things.

"I had a proposition for you lad, one that will benefit us all" smiled widely Odin and the glint in his eye did nerve Magnus, Odin was a trickster at heart that could make the most elaborate scheme of Loki look like child play and this time he was his objective.

Before Magnus could answer back a very loud belch thundered in the room as Pandora finished her meal and lay on the ground near the table, with a stomach three times the size of what it should be.

She was smiling happily with food scrumps all over her mouth and chin.

"Oi, grey beard" called to Odin who smiled at the goddess very amused for the scene " that was delicious, you sure know your stuff".

"Glad you like it lass" laughed the Lord of Asgard " now, can we have talk about the future of your favourite Devil King, he has already healed fully and it is time to let him go".

Magnus stiffened, wait, he was death, that's final, the power completely evaporated him and the body of the King of the end who will be buried for millenniums until he is capable of being summoned back in the world of the living.

But if thats the case...why was he not in Valhalla, not in Hell, he was standing in the Netherworld and that means he was recovering as when the [Golden apples] of Idunn were recovering his body from the clutches of death.

Damn Kvasir, it sure clears your head, ironically considering it was mead but he was sidetracking a little here.

"Lord Odin, Pandora, what in Surtr name are you both talking about?" asked Magnus " I am death, no doubts about it, so explain, whats happening here?".

Pandora, who has already recovered her usual slender form, starts fidgeting a little and reddening her face, meanwhile Odin hid his face under the bottom of a tankard as he was drinking a long sip of his mead.

"I...screw up a little" muttered Pandora not wanting to see Magnus in the face " your soul was damaged, your mind destroyed and your body..not make me start about that, you were about to vanish forever, your soul could not withstand longer so I..."

"She took your soul and reconstructed it with the help of Epimeteus" ended Odin " do you remember the three souls don't you lad?, Hugr, the power of the world, Hamr, the power of the individual, and Fylgja the one who accompanies".

Magnus was never a intelligent man, leaving apart his knowledge in magic and the occult world thanks to his [Fimbulthurl] Authority, he was not precisely a savant or a Skalda but the belief of the Nordmanni were deeply rooted in him and he knew about the three souls myth that his people put their faith in.

Pandora was fidgeting more, looking at Magnus with teary eyes and tossing an enraged side glances to Odin who just keep staring back at Pandora with a I told you visage in his grey bearded face.

Magnus sighed and take a sip from his Kvasir, he was going to need the wisdom gifted by the mead.

Ok, Pandora reconstructed his souls, no real problem there, in fact he own her big time if it was the case but the remark of the three souls was odd, what has that anything to do with?...unless.

"Pandora" said Magnus and the goddess stiffened, it was a curios sight to see such a powerful goddess act like a girl whose hand has been caught in the honey pot " what did you use to reconstruct my soul?".

"Hamr and Fylgja" confessed her in a tiny voice, giving Magnus the tip he needs to recognize what was the problem here.

"I will be dammed" emptied his tankard Magnus and refilled it and emptied again much to the amusement of Odin and the nervousness of Pandora.

"Magnus?" said Pandora looking at the Campione with hope and fear in the eyes.

She know that she has messed up, just a tiny detail but there is was and for a goddess like her that was quite the screw up but all apart, she really liked Magnus, he was one of the few that actually cared for her and the balance of the world.

Magnus slam his tankard on the table, making Pandora flinch and prepare for the worst, damn Odin, why has he to meddle in her business like that.

The Nordmanni devil king just raise from the chair and walked to Pandora, who looked at him with cloudy eyes and a very repented expression on her face but she frozen by the surprise when he just kneel and hug the tiny frame of the goddess in his strong and powerful arms.

"Do not fret Pandora, I do not hate you, I am surprised and confused that's all" said Magnus and Pandora hugged him back with a vengeance, good thing his ribs were reinforced, otherwise he will already be crush to death.

"Great beverage the Kvasir isn't it, lad?" commented Odin in the back with evident mirth in the voice, you are wiser now, and that allows you to see the real problem we had here".

Pandora hugged Magnus fiercer and glare Odin with all the power Pandora the goddess could muster.

Do not be confused, Pandora may act childish, is is her nature to be playful and carefree, an eternal youth woman who loves to play and to discover new things but she is one of the most fearful goddess there are.

She created the Devil Kings along Epimeteus, she Knows all, literally, there is nothing she does not know as she lives in the Netherworld and has access to all memories from the past, the present and the future.

Do not ever cross a scorned woman is a very healthy advise, Do not ever cross a scorned woman who knows all the ways to fuck you seven ways to Sunday is even better advise.

"Peace Pandora, I am here to give the lad a chance, you are the one at fault here remember?" remind Odin to the fierce little girl who was in mama bear mode.

When she heard it, her face reddened and hide under the chest of Magnus who smirked and combed her hair like he usually did with his daughters when they were flustered.

The petting did wonders on the goddess, who enjoyed a lot being pampered and petted like a good girl should, despite being a millennium older deity, she was as childish as heart as her appearance suggested.

She basked in the attention of her child, the most successful so far, not giving a damn about the terrible mistake she has made with him, honestly he had several different possibilities about how to proceed but she know that the hit for Magnus has been hard.

The soul that missed for him was Hugr, the power of the world, that part of his soul that connected with Yggdrasil and tapped into the power of the world.

Power of the world, meaning supernatural power of all kind, meaning magic, meaning Authorities.

Exactly.

Magnus was a human again, a complete human, well except for the gift of the [Berserkr], he born with that one, it was tied to his core, no matter how many times reborn.

It could be argued that the rest of the people of the world had different points of view against all this but once again, we are talking about faith and believes here, what works for ones did not work for the others.

Take example in what Moses did to the magicians of the Pharaoh when he freed the Jewish from their clutches, his magic and belief surpassed the Egyptian ones, simply because they work in two different systems and they are absolutely incompatible.

Not to mention Moses was a damn Campione and his spells were off the charts in comparison to the Egyptian magicians.

And how the hell did he know what a fucking Pharaoh was?, he barely know the Horus slayer and now he recognized symbols, forms, ancient lore of the Egypt...that was way different from his own epoch, he knew things that...

"Blood of Nidhöggr" cursed Magnus " how do I know all of those things?".

Pandora take his head in her little hands and look into his eyes with her own Authority, [Omniscience], noticing how much clear and clever was the old Nordmanni now and how was he unconsciously taking a lot of knowledge from the Netherworld.

"Ah, the glorious of the Kvasir" shrugged Odin, who was expecting that sooner of latter, the power of the concoction of divine blood and honey was inarguable, the aesir has been capitalizing the benefits of the Kvasir since those foolish dwarfs killed the old, good Kvasir for making it.

"So you see it Pandora" said Odin, sitting more comfortably in his chair " he is a lot more wiser now and he could deduce now what I want from him and for you".

"What the hell do you want old fart?" shouted Pandora hugging the head of Magnus against her flat chest in a protective manner.

Magnus remembered how Vindra did a similar thing in front of Dione in the past and how that almost ended in a brutal cat fight between the Völva, the priestess of Freya, and the Greek Devil Queen.

Pandora chest was flat as a board and Vindra on the other hand was quite well endowed but he appreciated the sentiment and shut the hell up hiding his smirk under the white and golden clothes of the childish deity of wisdom.

"He is no longer one of your Devil Kings Pandora" Odin was not aggressive but his tone leave no space for arguing, he was exposing the facts and what is worst, he had all the aces for the moment " but he is a [Berserkr], meaning he is under my domain or better said under the domain of Thor and now that he is human once again, he should be already in his way to Valhalla or Nilfheimr...in fact I am pretty much convinced there are two ladies eagerly waiting for his appearance in one of those realms" this last part made Pandora and Magnus blinked a pair of times, look at each other and then at Odin with confusion.

The Lord of the Aesir sighed, by Yggdrasil, why are all of this fools as dense as a brick wall?.

"I do not how or when, but you managed to impress my granddaughter Thrud and she is eager to test herself against you as soon as you steps in Valhalla" the glare of the only eye of Odin contains a curious mix between parental fury, amusement and pity for the ex-Devil King " on the other hand Hella is eager to enslave you for all eternity in the halls of Eljudnir, binding you eternally at her service; you truly are an unlucky one lad".

"Yggdrasil curse me" muttered Magnus, how did he managed to dig himself such a deep hole " I am mortal now Lord Odin, both of them will rip me apart, even as Devil King I will be pressed back to survive the wrath or attentions of such goddess".

"My thoughts exactly lad" chuckled Odin " I do love my granddaughter but she is to infatuated with Midgard and she is convinced that you are the best Midgard has to offer" Odins glare observe Magnus and he stiffened unconscious at that glare, that was the glare of Yggr, the terrible god that brings terror to the enemies of the Aesir " something that has proven to be true when you defeated the cursed King of the end".

Pandora was smiling with maternal proud for how successful was his boy with the dames but on the other hand, she turned to Magnus and start berating him for being such a womanizer.

"Magnus, I told you a thousand times, you damn playboy!" shouted Pandora at the Nordmanni ex-Devil King who was confuse about what playboy means, until the knowledge filled his brain and he shook his head, that was completely different from how he treated women.

By the blood of Fenrir, he was totally devote to his wives, he has never cheated on them once they were married, he has had twelve wives in all his half a millennium live and the mistress was a topic that he didn't wanted to talk about.

Dione was in that topic and it was a very recent wound thank you.

"We are getting sidetracked here Pandora" grumbled Odin who watch in amusement how the tiny goddess was grinding the eight feet tall nordmanni like a mother an spoiled child.

"In any case, you prevented both destinies to happen when you recreated his body, otherwise his soul would have not endured the travel and would have been destroyed before it could arrive to his destiny whatever it is".

Magnus pick up Pandora by the waist and raise in the air, as the goddess keep scolding him but he laughed and hugged the goddess shutting her up.

"Thanks for the save Pandora" smiled him hugging the woman and letting her standing in the floor, flustered and a little confused.

"You welcome..." her expression reddened a little but then she raise her head and pointed at him "Ah!, no mister you will listen to me, you are too kind, you damn flirt machine!" retake the scolding Pandora.

But Odin clear his throat with a loud grumble and cut her ramblings, reminding her about the main topic here.

"He is no longer yours Pandora, I thought that was already clear" repeated Odin, as they do not seems to realize what that means " he is for the Aesir now and as soon as you release him, he will be free to travel to his original destiny".

"Never!" put Pandora his fist on his waist defying Odin " he is one of my children, the best so far and I would not allow you to cause him any harm".

Magnus smiled, he was touched by the protectiveness of Pandora despite her little mess up with his regeneration, she has done already more than enough and he could forgive the woman for the mistake, after all, he died already and she has saved him from complete obliteration.

"Then I think we can make a deal" smiled Odin and Magnus didn't like at all the glint his eye " the only one he will be free from Valhalla or Nilfheimr is that he became a Devil King again and to embrace Yggdrasil, so the World Tree could judge what is his real destiny".

Pandora stared at the northern god frowning, she could battle the damn old coat and force him to abandon this realm but he was right, Magnus was tied to the Aesir, it was his faith and he will join his peers in the realm of the Myth of the Northern underworld but she will be dammed if she let her son be pushed around by that tomboy Thurd or being chained by that hussy Hella.

"The last part of the puzzle Pandora is the piece you miss when the soul of the lad ended here as all Devil King do" said Odin revealing a light blue orb, a orb that resonated with Odin, making his divine essence flood the room.

"[Valfödhr]" said Pandora and Magnus at the same time, accurately deducting how has Odin managed to acquire that soul and what contains.

Valfödhr is one of the sacred Heiti names that is given to Odin in the Edda, the father of the deceased, that means he could guide the spirits to the Underworld and in the wild hunt, as an attribute of Odin he had control over spectres, ghost and undead, and in this case, that includes the soul of Magnus.

"True" nodded Odin " I am the guide of the death and I recognize your soul the moment it departed from Midgard, it was not easy but I could track it before it disintegrate and be forever lost".

"What is what you need of me Lord Odin?" ask Magnus putting a hand over Pandora shoulder to quell her protest before it begins " this is not a negotiation, is the announcement of my complete slavery to the Aesir and more exactly, to you".

"You are mistaken lad, I do want an slave, why should I?, you had done one of the greatest job I have eve seen in ruling and protecting our people, the Nordmanni" smiled Odin, confusing both of them " not to mention you managed to vanquish a piece of me and reclaim his Heiti, something that no one has ever done before".

Pandora and Magnus shared a look, Odin has been clear in the point that he had all the aces in the deck but instead of calling his win, he was looking for something else and despite all the knowledge of the world in their heads, they had no idea what the heck was the Lord of Asgard looking for.

"Still, not seeing where this conversation is going" said Magnus " what do you want for me Lord Odin?".

"You will not enslave him old coat" I assure you that, growled Pandora and it was the tone of the goddess not the playful girl.

"I want him to swore and blood oath with me" smile Odin and both Campione and goddess froze on the place, when the consequence and knowledge of what Odin was asking finally hit them, Magnus brain stop working.

Fostbraethr, sworn brothers, a blood oath under the gaze of the gods.

He didn't need the wisdom of the Kvasir or the [Fimbulthurl] Authority of Odin to knew what that mean, he had done it before, when he was just a mortal and he was a young [Berserkr] under the stars of Midgard.

The two brothers will slit their wrist and mix their blood, letting it fall under the grass and the earth and cross together a sacred arch consecrated to the gods, from that day on, they will be considered brothers, like they were brothers in blood and one will take the place of the other, even vengeance him if the necessity arise.

It was not only a tremendous responsibility, but a gigantic honour at the same time, not to mention, he was mortal now, a powerful mortal with almost eight hundred years of experience as warrior and Devil King but mortal nonetheless, how could Odin even begun to think he will be ready for such a responsibility?.

"Lord Odin..." begun Magnus, slowly recovering his brain functions, Pandoras brain was overworking, she was almost steaming now that Magnus saw the gaping face of the woman.

She understand what Odin was trying to pull here, he was going to make Magnus a god...or something, he was going to slap her in her face with her own trick of giving humans the power of the gods!.

"I am honoured Lord Odin, more than I could even express with words" started Magnus " but I am human, how could a human rule over the Aesir?, I'm no longer a Devil King?".

"There are more worlds than Midgard" shrugged the old god " and more Midgards than the one you are so familiar with".

"Oi, Oi, Oi" snapped Pandora of her trance " you are not going to kick his ass into Yggdrasil are you?" quirked an eyebrow Pandora at Odin "you pretend him to walk into the Unlimited Realms?".

"Yes" simply stated Odin with a wide smile in his grey beard " I think he will be a good ambassador of the power of Asgard and the Nordmanni in the myriad of universes he is about to travel".

"Oh you clever shit" smirked Pandora with a similar wicked smile and both looked at Magnus with eyes read and wicked smiles...

Magnus for the first time in his life fell a chill run all the way up of his spine, he didn't like at all that glares.

"So new possibilities, so much things to see and discover..." muttered Pandora.

"So, whats going to be lad?" asked the god to Magnus " ready for a challenge worthy of the Edda?, although don't even think you will be gifted with power, you are going to earn it the hard way again" announced Odin and Pandora looked at the old god and when she felt the presences coming her way into he Netherealm she smiled widely.

Magnus just noticed a thug in his consciousness and when he turned around to see what was it, Odin moved and slammed the blue orb into his chest.

All his nervous system flared like a damn torch, burned with the fire of the stars directly inside him and replaced again for better, powerful, divine organs and senses, for a second Magnus felt nostalgic, it still hurt like a bitch but Magnus clenched his teeth and just endure the pain and welcome it.

Welcome back power, old friend, it has been a while.

The first time, much the same way one could lose the virginity or kill for the first time, that was a sensation that would never repeat the same, it could be better, it could be worst, but the first time for everything is always special.

And now he was becoming a Devil King again.

Magnus smiled and let the power consume him, let the Authorities earned in combat fill their places in their soul, there was differences, there was some serious differences now that he repaired at the power that was reconstructing his body into the one more akin to a god and not a Devil King.

The power of the Aesir fill his body and Magnus Blacksson come whole again.

Devil King, Berserkr, Skalda, Thulr, Jarl, Father, Son, Husband, Lover, Champion, Adventurer, Wanderer, Protector, Ravager, Forger,Scourge, Bless, Life saver, Reaper.

The Heitis keep coming at him, accepting them all, as they were all true, they were all part of the man know as Magnus Blacksson, now Magnus Odinsson, revived by the blood and powers of Odin, Magnus has one last trial to fulfil before he could reclaim the name of Odinsson.

The power flooded into the grey dimension of the Netherworld and suddenly an empty plain was created, a mix between a grass plain and the frozen plains of the lands of the northernmost place on earth.

Four contenders were reunited in this place, each one of them with his own reasons but all of them has been challenged and none of them could reject the challenge, it will go against their own natures.

Perun, the storm Slavic god was standing royal over a powerful and golden storm that surrounded his body like a mantle, dress with gold and brown tinted wool he glared with hate to the form of Magnus at the other end of the plains.

Nuada, young, handsome, strong, royal and energetic, his blonde hair moving with a wind created by the storm of Perun, waited with a long and wide sword leaning over his shoulder, the grip of the weapon firmly grab by a silver hand that reflected the golden lighting of the storm; he was smiling at Magnus and raise his sword as salute and challenge.

The last but not least was the one who Magnus bested the first, an old and powerful deity who tamed the most hostile lands of the world and made it his domains.

Nanook, the polar bear that hunts the white tundras appeared in the plain, walking without any care in the world, confident in being the alpha predator, the one who decided who lives and who lives in his domains. The white fur of the humongous bear was bluish white like the pure waters and snow of his domains.

The power saturate the plain, three gods and a Devil King has reunited in a place created from their wills, a fitting battlefield on where all of they could unleash their true selves.

Magnus was standing over one of the edges of the plain, smiling as the power he possessed for centuries settled in his soul and once again made him whole, now he has in front of him some of the gods he has battled in the past and from whom he took Authorities as trophy.

Before the inevitable clash, there was something he could enjoy himself before, a good old taunting and bantering was in order after so many centuries, it will settle the adequate mood for the incoming battle.

"I salute you gods" roared Magnus raising his hands to welcome the ones who has accepted the challenge of Odin " once again we will clash, once again we will determine who is the best warrior of all us, for that I thank you".

"Good to see you in so good shape son of the Nordmanni" laughed Nuada digging the tip of his sword into the grey grass and snow " I almost fear that you will have the discourtesy of dying before I could claim vengeance for my defeat at your hands".

The polar bear snorted once and his claws dig into the floor, scratching the earth, showing his anxiousness for starting the battle, Nanook didn't really care for the past, the Nordmanni won fair and square, he bested him, simply as that and now he will enjoy a battle with a worthy prey, a worthy hunt he could enjoy to the fullest.

Perun didn't even bother in talk, throwing a dozen of bolts directly at Magnus, effectively starting the battle between all of them.

A golden rune covered dome protected Magnus from the bolts, the glories of the divine protection granted by all the knowledge that it comes with [Fimbulthurl], welcome back old friend, I really missed you in this dark times.

"I curse you with dark skies, I curse you with weakness, I curse you with fragile bones under the chilly night!" intoned Magnus using the magic of the voice and the curse to weaken all the gods in front of him, usually that will be pointless as no spell could pierce the resistance of a god but when the spell is chanted by another god, that an entirely new matter.

Still he didn't hoped the spell will affect them for long, just enough to gain enough time to draw his own blade and run to meet Nanook and Nuada in the middle of the field.

And there came the first surprise for Magnus, the first and notable difference with the Authorities he now possessed.

[Sigtyr] was one of the Heiti of Odin that he had, the one that bring forth the unstoppable Gungnir but Magnus did not find the spear when he search in his soul for the supreme weapon, instead something equally powerful but completely different answered at his call.

A powerful blade sing a metallic song in his hand.

Tyrfing fire like blade clashed with the silver sword of Nuada in a shower of sparks, sending shock waves in every direction but none of the two fighter did actually care, as both were smiling widely.

Pity the joy of a clash of blades was interrupted by a sudden dozen of lightings raining over them without mercy, their blades danced at an astonishing speed, blocking and parrying the electricity and by so, defying all physical laws in the universe.

None of them give a fuck about, such is the privilege of the divinities, the Irrationality that can not be understand by those who are not divinity except for the Devil King, the Irrationality that destroys the Irrationality.

In resume, this was nuts but glorious at the same time.

Magnus sneak a glance to the sword in his hand, it does have a presence inside of it, not sure if it was sentient or not but the battle lust was undeniable, not really a surprise Tyrfing was a weapon aligned with [Steel] deeply.

A runic sword forged by two dwarfs who cursed it to be the origin of three great tragedies.

As long as the Poetic Edda was concerned; the Hervarar Saga included in the Tyrfing cycle, that related the tale of the sword; the curse of the three tragedies was already fullfil and the power of the sword, one sword worthy of the gods was at the disposal of a worthy warrior capable of handling it.

The sword was a meter and half long, double-edged and with a golden hilt. The surface of the blade looks like it was set ablaze, with a constant aura of golden fire dancing over the runic surface of the blade as the runes emitted a soft glow at the compass of the fires over them.

Magnus delighted with his new weapon and a little take aback from it, it was new and at the same time, the sword was so attuned with him that it seems like they had been forever together, well, that will be useful, as he has to battle with two powerful physical deities like Nanook and Nuada, both beast and warrior respectively.

The real problem was that bastard of Perun, he will take the skies and simply tear them apart in a shower of intense rain and lighting, one could never underestimate a weather god, they always rule over the battlefield as the skies are their realms.

Magnus muttered a litany under his breath, now that the magic knowledge was back on his mind and with the gift of the Kvasir added to the mix, he noticed how versatile could be the magic and not only the brute force curses and destructive runes he was used to display in his battles.

First of all, a little misdirection, a trick for the senses, no matter if you are god or not, the power of the Devil King could overcome the magic resistance of a god; and the other way around of course; and made them feel the effects of a spell as bad as any mortal.

However in this case, Magnus has no intentions of harming with a spell, not a curse, not an elemental attack but an illusion, suddenly dozens Magnus charged against Nuada and Nanook, engaging them in a furious battle.

The polar bear god was more than capable of sweep those fool enough to enter into the reach of his claws and teeth, cleaving a savage path among the horde of Magnus but not a single drop of blood fall into the earth as none of them was actually the real one.

Nuada was in a similar situation, as his blade just reap the illusions with easiness, the god was surrounded by a silver aura of power and his body was a living handsome man of silver that was cleaving a path among the mirages like they were nothing.

Perun called the winds at his command, a sudden and brutal gust of wind fall in the plain, concentrating in the middle of it and start spinning into a powerful tornado of rain, electricity and cold.

Nanook just shrugged the storm, neither the frozen winds, the electricity or the rain capable of piercing steel has nothing to do against his hard fur and snow white aura of power, his Authority over ice and frost was unrivalled and the only real complain he had was the annoying buzz that the lighting made over his perfect white fur.

Perun focus on the storm and search for his objective, seeing the Nordmanni son of a whore die a hundred times by cold, lighting and water was a delicious sight but there were nothing but mirages, illusions conjured to distract them, Perun was no fool and just order the wind to search for the Nordmanni, he will not be caught distracted.

Unfortunately for the Slavic god, there was a trick hid under the spell, a new one that was not among the tricks Magnus usually brings to the battlefield, this one instead, was courtesy of the newest trick Odin had added to the arsenal of Magnus, the one that help him move like the wind, [Vidhrir], the wind.

Magnus hide among the currents of the storm, part of the destructive power of a the tornado, part of the flow that makes the natural disaster whole and by that, completely hid by the same power that was trying to kill him.

Slipping under the guard of the ragging Slavic god, his worst attribute as the power was something he had in spades, Magnus tried to win his back but then he discovered that there was a little problem with his plan.

Old habits die hard and he has been using and controlling lighting for centuries, he was accustom to it, so comfortable with the sensation of the power of the sky around and inside him that he didn't feel the shield of bolts that surrounded Perun until it was to late and he was send flying in a shock.

Damn it was like a bull has stomp his nerves, the landed in the floor in a very ungraceful manner but he didn't have time to recover and he barely dodged the swing of the silver sword of Nuada, the blade nicked his check, leaving a crimson trail over the beard less and younger face of Magnus.

"First blood to the Tuatha it does seems" taunted Nuada with a constant blur of attacks that leave little space for dodging, keeping Magnus on the defence but Magnus was smiling and replied back.

"You are late Nuada, first blood goes to the Nordmanni" taunted back Magnus to the fellow warrior pointing with his chin to the place where Perun was nursing a nasty gash in the chest.

May he had a shield, but Tyrfing does not care of such things and has pierced through it as a worthy [Steel] incarnation, although they had been pushed back very painfully, they had managed to left a painful reminder to Perun that he was not the Alpha here.

In all honesty, Magnus feared a lot more Nanook than Perun.

The polar bear was older, stronger, more cunning and with far more experience than all of them combined, he was the ruler of the frozen ices way before any of the other gods tribes travel to the borders of his domain.

It was a miracle Magnus managed to won against his avatar, a mix of frenzy, forcing his body to the limit, luck and a miracle was what allow Magnus to raise himself to the status of Devil King.

"Ah, and they called me trickster in my land" barked the impossible perfect warrior and send another flurry of strikes against the defence of Magnus, who barely blocked all of them and not without some minor injuries here and there, none of them grave but they itch and will weaken him as longer the battle continues.

Magnus need some space, he was a good warrior, the best there is among mortals but Nuada was better and ironically without the silver hand backing him up with his Authority over war and martial prowess he was way over his head in a battle of pure skill with the blade.

So, he will have to fight dirty.

Magnus called the wind once again, a twister of speed winds, razor winds that will have sand the bones of a mortal or a divine beast, pushed Nuada, back without even scratching the surface of his silver body, and make Magnus fly in the opposite direction as a hundred bolts like arrow poured over the place he has been standing not a second ago.

Nuada smiled twisted a little in a sneer of despise for the interruption of the Slavic god but soon he has to deal with another annoyed Polar bear as he has just slammed his metallic body against his fur.

The claws of Nanook were more than capable of hurting him despite his own silver reinforcement, that damn overgrown fur ball was a very nasty one when he is determined to kill his prey.

Now that Nuada and Nanook were entertaining each other, it was time for Magnus to put down Perun before he recovers and unleash all his [Storm] over the plain, no matter how resilient they were, the power of the golden apple like balls of lighting of Perun would be more tan enough to seriously damage all three of them, leaving them ready for the coup de grace.

The wind carried him but there was an oddity with the wind, he didn't control it as full as he did with the [Storm] and instead of the quick flying he was sent like a missile against Perun, well, not what he wanted but not completely undesired.

Tryfing blood lust flood from the golden hilt of the blade, hastening Magnus to bury his flame like edge in the flesh of the god and sate in his divine blood, this [Steel was quite the angry fellow, not sure if call the blade he or she, the conscience in the deep of the sword didn't react one way or the other.

Musings for a more peaceful days, if he survive this ordeal.

Perun raise his own lighting blade, in a similar manner to Zeus, he transform a lighting into one broad sword that he used to clash with Magnus in the air, exchanging strikes and slashes and making quite the light show in the darkened sky of the plane that the gods had created to this rematch.

Both of the were flying easily, dodging the wind torrents and lighting bolts that they throw at the other and when they dodge they charge the enemy trying to overcome their defences but for the moment none of them was able to bypass the defences of his enemy and the mixing and opposed winds and storms were devastating the heavens of the private realm.

For the first time since forever, Magnus could go all out against his enemies, even when he faced the King of the end, he had to be cautious not to destroy the lands around him, if he let loose the reins over the [Storm] he commanded in the past, half the skies of Midgard will be tear apart, the consequences will be terrible.

The great problem is that Magnus was experimented with some of the powers he felt inside but the others were completely new, in fact this was the first time he even used [Vidhrir], that was never been part of the original Authorities that he took form Odin and he was having some difficulties to adjust.

He was fighting in the air with Perun and it was clear that the Slavic god was far better than him in the flying department, after all he was the lord of the skies and Magnus was fighting defensively for the most part.

He need a game breaker, something to break the stalemate of wind versus lighting they were playing over the land were Nuada and Nanook were beating the crap of each other, this was supposed to be a free for all battle among the gods, in order to get revenge from Magnus but neither Nuada or Nanook care a shit about all that.

Only Perun had his heart full of vengeance for the humiliation he suffered when Magnus bested him with ice and strength, the bless of the [Polar bear] he took from Nanook at the beginning of his life as Devil King.

Magnus look inside him, raising a screen of howling winds around him, twisting them into a set of tornadoes that made impossible to anything to come closer but the power of Perun was not to be denied and he slammed his storm against the tornado, slowly winning the upper hand.

The clash forced a dense and heavy rain to fall all over the lands but once again, the resilience of the gods on the floor was far than enough to consider the rain that would have crushed a common human, nothing more than a little annoyance.

The power was there, Magnus could sense the Authorities inside of him, all of them calling to him to use and to won, they are quite the enthusiastic ones but there was something odd in the Authorities, some are familiar, some are not but all of them clammed for victory.

Magnus channel [Fimbulthurl] once again and submerged himself in the trance of the Galdr, the magic of the voice, he focus on Perun, who was already half his way into the tornadoes and ready to zap him alive with one of his balls of lighting that usually took the appearances of golden apples.

Magnus ignore it, he was giving shape to his most powerful curse, one that he will never dare to try in any other circumstance than this unique realm where he was battling the other gods, he was going to cause a severe disturbance in the magic of the zone, one that will allow him to end the battle.

Once the power condensed inside him, Magnus open his mouth and shouted the curse directly at Perun, it was inconsequential how the skies was a thunderous stage on where the winds and the lightnings made any possible sound completely impossible to travel but for the magic, that was something secondary.

The voice of Magnus was inhuman, echoed through the storm, echoing in Perun and surrounding him like something akin to a nightmare, the Slavic god was no pushover and his magical resistance was of the charts but Magnus has poured his own god like magical reserves into the Galdr, the incantation surpassed the resistance of Perun and hit his core, sending a ripple through the sky and vaporizing the storm and the winds with a massive explosion that the gods below felt like a hammer over his heads.

"May the death find you old,sick and bedridden, May the insanity consume your mind, May the dishonour tarnish your entire lineage, you are unworthy and unworthiness shall be your destiny, Begone filth, Yggdrasil denies you!".

Perun and Magnus fall from the skies, when Magnus has recited the incantation, he did much more than simply destroy the storm and the winds around him, he has cut the Authorities of Perun form him, for a few moments, before the god could force his powers back to him, Perun was not the lord of the skies.

Independently of that, Perun launch himself to Magnus, ready to break his skull with his bare hands, something that he was more than capable to achieve. However Magnus was expecting that and faking weakness, not too difficult considering how much power has he put into the spell, he called Tyrfing back to his hand.

Perun recovered part of his powers and like a living missile, he fly directly at Magnus, who keep free falling on the land under them, the victorious snarl in the face of the Slavic god was more than clear.

Tyrfing draw and arc in the air and the sky exploded like a nuclear bomb.

Magnus fall into the ground, caving a trench in the cold and hard surface of the grey realm they have conjured but their wills and with clenched teeth he endured the pain that was shackling his limbs, torso and head.

Peruns head and torso fall in different directions, Magnus loved the dumb face the god has made when the finally realized that Tyrfing has beheaded him in a powerful arc, cutting through divine flesh and bone.

Magnus was smiling despite the crippling pain he was feeling and what is worst, he know that he still had two more to go, being honest he didn't expect Perun to explode like that, it does seems that he was concentrating his power inside of him so he will channel it directly into the body of Magnus, ripping him apart in a show of gore and electricity.

Magnus has been faster and beheaded him first, simply as that.

The power flood onto him, filling his battered body with renew energies and healing the wounds, burns and bruises, his strength went back to him and when he stand up from the trench he has created with his own body, raising Tyrfing and his free hand, curled into a fist, to the sky and call forth and old friend.

The [Storm] answered to him, clouds, winds, rain and lighting obey his command, the golden storm was back, Perun Authority flared in his soul, like a piece of him that he missed and now was begging to being complete.

This called for a celebration, and with that thought, shit hit the fan.

A hundred thousand kilometres radius storm erupted from all the realm, as Magnus called in for the most powerful storm he could control as soon as the storm was back inside him, Nuada and Nanook opposed the storm with their own divine powers and soon all of them were engaged in a violent thee way battle over all the place.

Each time they clashed inside the tempest, their figures silhouetted against the dark clouds when a golden bolt illuminated the darkness as sudden pictures, caught by the lights of the golden storm.

Nuada sword and the claw of Nanook clashing against each other, Tyrfing cutting the back of the polar bear god, Nuada punching Magnus chest violently, Nanook breathing a blizzard over a crouching under a shield Nuada.

Black and golden pictures of a battle that would have created a complete new set of believes if there would have been any mortal witnesses of the clash of the gods.

However they would be a little surprised about how in the middle of such devastating violence, all the gods, even the Polar bear, did not exude any maliciousness.

In fact Magnus and Nuada were laughing like maniacs, thrilled by the combat, so high in the battle lust that they didn't care a shit about anything that it wasn't achieve the victory, Nanook on the other hand was a more cold head but even him was enjoying the battle.

It was not much a hunt as it has skipped directly to the moment on where the predator and the prey battle each other to the end, as it has been since the beginning of times, the only difference is that this time, the prey has develop some interesting survival abilities.

Nanook roared and from all his body erupted a blizzard that tore apart the stormy clouds, pushing Magnus and a surprised Nuada into the air by the sudden and violent winds and snow that has formed around the massive beast.

All three of them were product of harsh and cold lands, so the freezing temperatures was not really a problem, their souls were born from the cold lands of their origins and in fact, after the golden lighting a little cold was welcome.

Magnus however felt something different inside of him, despite being a Nordmanni and a Devil King, he has never been specially resistant to the level of freezing Nanook can dish, so this was another present from Odin and his little scheme.

He would thank the old grey beard later, now his resilience was a very welcome edge to have against the freezing blizzard that Nanook was throwing at them.

Nuada created a silver aura around him and charged Magnus with his silver sword ready for a decapitating strike that was quickly block by Tyrfing, thesword was exultant, after years of being forgotten in the realms of the myths now it was being used again, and in the most glorious ways, a weapon capable of killing gods, mus be used to killing gods.

The three started to fight among them again, but this time the blizzard of Nanook, kind of cleared the view, allowing the gods to something fight over the storm clouds and others over a field of snow as they could fight in three dimensions with easiness, walking in the air like it is solid ground.

Weapons versus claw, and none of them was capable of surpassing the others, not in physical strength, neither in overwhelming power or elemental mastery.

The incredible and impossible martial skills of Nuada was negated by the invulnerable skin of Nanook and the own skills of Magnus. The claws of the gigantic bear clanged with demolishing strength against the runic edge of Tyrfing and the silver blade of the perfect warlord of the Tuatha.

The two gods and the Devil King were having the time of their lives beating the crap out of each other in the grey realm they created for the occasion, but as all good times it must have and end and Magnus discovered, too late for doing anything about it, that the battle has more implications that he suspected.

It begins when Nanook trapped the body of Nuada among his jaws and after freezing the silver body to almost the absolute zero, he snapped his fangs, cleaving the body of Nuada in half, the two halves of the body fall to the ground with a loud thud and exploded in a rain of sharpen silver scraps.

Magnus did not notice any change in him and he discovered that the Silver hand of Nuada was now out of his reach, Nanook has being the killer, so he will not inherit any Authority from the celtic god.

He cursed under his breath and prepare Tyrfing for the battle against the last god on the dimension.

Nanook spitted some silver scraps from his fangs and raising in all his fifty feet glory he stared down at Magnus, with a cocky smile on his bear head, however the amusement soon get cut short when a lighting reached his cold and black snout.

This time was Magnus the one that was smiling and channelling the [Storm] he ride the clouds, ascending his way to fight the polar bear god.

A golden storm versus a bluish blizzard that freeze everything in his path, clashed in the fractured realm, none of them really caring at all for the environmental damage that they could cause, after all this was a fabricated dimension that will perish after their business have concluded satisfactorily.

Tyrfing draw blood and the sudden outburst of joy from the weapon almost made Magnus loose pace and be disemboweled by one gigantic claw, flying over the bear to escape from his demolishing claws, Magnus took a second to look at the weapon.

This blood lust was abnormal, he could understand the frenzy, as [Berserkr] himself once upon a time, the power and the battle frenzy is a powerful sensation but this sword just demands blood, well, not blood exactly, it demands battle, to cleave your enemies until they are nothing but corpses at your feet.

This was not a single weapon, this weapon was part of something bigger, something divine, its power emanates from a bloodthirsty, hateful and resentful divinity, this blade was forged to witness tragedy although his fate has been sealed already, the blade was so accustom to blood and carnage that it demanded war.

Magnus push that thought deep in his mind, there will be time later for inner searching, now he had to put an end to a glorious battle against the god that killed the first time and grant him the bless to meet Pandora and became a Devil King.

The storm spiralled in the sky, taking point at the tip of Tyrfing focusing the power into one golden like apple ball of lighting that illuminated the realm like the morning sun, opposing to that force was the blizzard that emanates from the body of Nanook.

Seeing and noticing the devastating power the golden apple was, Nanook counterattack with his own natural disaster, the chilling winds of the northern tundra could freeze to the death any living thing when the blizzard is at his peak.

Ice erupted from his bluish fur like waves, the winds followed not much after, combined in a massive hail storm of freeze water that could pierce even the heaviest armour by the combination of speed, force and sharpness.

The ice shrapnel pierce Magnus skin, quickly drawing blood, not even the cape of lighting that act as defence and offence at the same time could protect him for the sudden and quick hail of lethal spikes.

He had to endure the punishment if he wanted to reach the body of the bear and pierce deeply with the anxious blade of Tyrfing into the hard flesh of one of the most fearsome beast he has ever meet.

Being fifty feet tall, didn't precisely help to quell his apprehension to get into the reach of those damn paws of the bear, only one of those will be more than suffice to gut a troll in one lazy sweep.

Magnus manoeuvre in the storm, channelling the winds around him to block more efficiently the blizzard, he need space to free fall into the back of Nanook and bury Tyrfing to the hilt on the back of the head of the bear.

The bear was not stupid and always keep Magnus on his sight, sending hails of ice and freezing winds to block any lighting or storm clouds that could blind him enough to Magnus to blindside him with that dammed accursed sword of his.

The old god recognized the power of the blade and hated it deeply, that sword grows on violence and blood, it carries the hate and the resentment of its forgers, three catastrophes or curses has saw the sword and now it only wanted to taste the blood and flesh of any living being in its reach.

As a predator himself, Nanook recognized the value of the sword, it was perfect for a Devil King whose primal enemy were the gods themselves and the blade has more then enough thirst of the blood of the gods for both of them.

Magnus didnt know exactly the powers of the blade and how it was much more now that it has been release from the curse of the dvergar that forged it at the beginning, it was now a god weapon, standing on equal ground with Divine beasts and other divine tools like Ama no murakumo.

Nanook charged directly into the storm, surrounded by his blizzard and confident on being able to pierce the clods and the lighting of Magnus, trying to caught him in his jaws and torn his body in half in one go, as a sure way to put and end to the battle.

He realized his mistake as soon as his jaws clapped like a gigantic bear trap over the body of Magnus, the blood was convincing, the flesh being torn apart was flawless but there was a little thing that wasnt present.

What Nanook has just tear apart was nothing but flesh and bone, it does have his appearance but none of his divine powers, so it was a fake, created by magic or an Authority, that was irrelevant , at the end, it has fooled Nanook for enough time for Magnus to win the upper space.

Like a golden meteorite of heaven, the ball of lighting in the tip of the sword of Magnus find his way into the back of the giant polar bear avatar of Nanook, the energy burnt and melt the hard fur of the bear, opening a painful path in his fur, skin and flesh, deeper and deeper into the core of the old god.

Magnus could felt his muscles torn apart and his nerves grating at the limit, channelling and focusing such energy was something way beyond anything mortal should have ever achieved, even for Devil Kings, whose bodies are far superior to humankind, was something that will carry some several consequences.

He stopped the fall when the sword reached the hilt buried on the back of the bear god, the bear struggled and roared, deeply wounded by the cursed weapon and the electricity running amok inside his divine predator flesh didn't help too.

Magnus grab the fur of the bear, clenching his teeth from the frostbite he was feeling, it was worsening the already painful wounds of the previous hail storm of Nanook, the dry blood freeze over his body aggravating the wound with new cuts and blackening the flesh.

But he persevere, he didn't surrender, this was his victory and will not dishonour it by surrendering at the last minute for something as pitiful as a freezing death.

Roaring himself in defiance to the dying and pained roars of the bear, Magnus channel whatever power remain inside him and pour all of it over the sword, chanting a new curse directly into the bones of the divine avatar.

"Weak and bristle are the bones of the prey!" shouted Magnus, ending the incantation of another curse from the [Fimbulthurl] Authority, his spell fly into the sword and through the runic metal, it exploded inside the body of the bear, doing number with his bones and leaving them ready fro the count when the ball of lighting continue to running amok.

Both fell to the land, one death and the other half way.

Magnus was exhausted, frost bitten and with half of his bones shattered of fissured, his magical reserves were a joke and his mind was trying not to think about all the wounds he had to heal.

One white and frozen meteorite and one golden and sparking meteorite smashed at the same time over the grey land and their combined impact shattered the earth with a thunderous boom that echoed in the heaven of the realm, dispersing the clouds and leaving only a starry night over the bodies of the two fallen divine beings.

Tyrfing was chanting inside the head of Magnus, exultant and delighted from the battle and the blood, the sword laid near Magnus, barely capable of grabbing the golden handle of the weapon as his strength was quickly fading away.

With the androgynous but numerous chorus of victory of Tyrfing in his head, Magnus closed his eyes with a wide smile, this was not a bad way to die after all, it only the stampede he was hearing could stop...

Darkness surrounded him and he let his consciousness went into that dark place, he could sense his Authorities calling for him as he was now in possession of an entire new set of Authorities, some old friends like [Storm] and [Polar bear] but other like the one from whom emanates Tyrfing was a complete mystery to him.

He won, he absolutely won and despite the defeat of Nuada at the hands of Nanook, he was enjoyed one of the best battle he has ever lived and for a warrior at heart like him, that was more than enough.

The wisdom of the Kvasir allow him know that he was now in his way to Pandora as the power of the [Golden Apples] of Idunn were resurrecting him, taking him from the grasp of the death; and Hella now that they are at it; and bringing him back to life. Those powers had failed when he faced the King of the end, now they will not fail.

It was only a matter of time before he awakens back in the realm of Pandora, the Netherealm where all the Devil Kings and Queens wait for their first audience with the crazy and childish goddess.

"Who the hell are you calling crazy you overgrown muscle brain?!" shouted Pandora slapping Magnus so hard in the head that he awoken instantaneously with a very nasty headache...again, this was starting to get annoying.

"Sorry Pandora" muttered Magnus massaging his forehead in a vain attempt to lessen the migraine.

"Well done lad" said Odin behind the fuming Pandora with a hint of pride and amusement in his only eye " that has been one of the best battles I have ever saw".

"Congratulations, you are back on the family again" hugged Pandora Magnus, doing a 180º in his attitude " I can not say that often".

"Thanks, both of you" said Magnus who was still sore as hell, hugging the purplenette back.

No matter how amazing the powers of Idunn could be, it was hard to recompose all his body and soul after the beating he has suffered at the hands of three violent gods.

At the end it has been his victory but the cost has been excessive as always, it was almost a non written rule, that every time a Devil King and a god battle, one will be death and the other half way cross the other side.

Considering the level of power they usually unleash on the battlefield, it is of no real surprise, it is been know that once upon a time, one fire god unleash his Authority over an island the size of all Scandinavia and reduce it to nothing but a scorched and barren land.

Magnus knows that his [Storm] was capable of devastating entire countries, piercing the earth with the golden arrows of the bow of Perun, it was hard to be in the receiving end of one of those damn things.

And when one spokes about that attack, it could be equally applied to any other Authority of the gods, from the ice spikes that has torn his flesh against Nanook, to the wooden stakes that Idunn throw at him when he defeated her.

"Now, I think we have a deal, isnt it lad?" smirked Odin and Magnus chuckled when Pandora pull Magnus head into his flat blossom protectively.

"Aye, we do Lord Odin" Magnus raised and raise Pandora with him, he just need and arm to sustain the girl like it was a little children, Pandora blushed red for a second but then she just enjoyed the experience of being pampered.

Epimeteus could take notes, Magnus sure knows how to treat a lady.

Odin take a dagger from his belt and with a quick move, slip his wrist, letting the blood fall from his flesh to the floor, he offered the dagger to Magnus who took it in his free hand and offered it to Pandora.

The goddess blinked a pair of times, not sure what he wanted.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here, so Pandora, will you do me the honour of bless this ritual of brotherhood?" explained Magnus with a smile and Pandora fell warm inside, it was the first time any of her adoptive children ask something like this.

She took the dagger and despite his childlike appearance, she perform a flawless cut on the wrist of the Devil King.

Odin and Magnus grab each other arm forearms and let the blood mix under the attentive gaze of Pandora.

Fostbraethr, blood brothers.

Magnus fell the power rush inside him, changing the Devil King into something more akin to a god.

[Jotunblut], literally Blood of the Giants, the unique quality of the blood of the Jotun of the legends and the Aesir, the divine blood that elevated him over mortal and immortal alike and now it was flowing inside the veins of Magnus, fitting as one of his Authorities.

The power started with a crescendo and Pandora look dumbfounded at the miracle that was happening in front of her, this damn old goat has take her ritual and transform into something that brings deity to the Devil Kings.

Pandora knew how the Asgardian gods were doomed since the beginning to the Ragnarok and how very few of them will be able to survive their darkest day, now Odin was creating new gods from his blood, brothers in every sense as now his own blood flood inside their veins.

Clever, clever boy.

She hugged Magnus adding her own power to the mix so the sudden and overwhelming power did not surpass the will of the Nordmanni and destroy his new and very powerful body, one akin to the gods that he hunted once.

Magnus appearance did not change very much, what he did was to rejuvenate a lot, Magnus, despite his seven hundred years more or less, became a god slayer when he was in his thirties, a very advance age for an epoch that the media of living was the fifties.

His body lost the scars, his muscles became young and strong as they were on his prime and his white mane recover his black reddish colour, what didnt change were his honeyed eyes that has captivated several females along his life.

In essence, he was young again, back in his twenties, when he was at his prime and ready for take the world by the axe.

What captivated Pandora what the dance and the power that the soul of Magnus did posses.

She knew that the Nordmanni had a set of believes in how the soul was divided in three different parts, each one of them different an equally powerful.

Hugr, the power of the world, in this case the Authorities of Magnus that were composing themselves as runes, as they fused with the new god that Magnus was.

Hamr, the power of the individual, the one that manifest what is inside of each one of the persons, the one that changes the mood, the emotions and what does an individual unique, now that he was a god, it was quite a good thing to see that his core was not altered very much.

Fylgja, the one that companies, a spectre that resembles the pure essence of the individual, and some times an animal if the person is so attuned with an animal that his essence does resemble one. This was was slowly transforming into a precious bluish white bear roaring as the lord of his lands, the frozen tundras of the North.

Pandora was delighted from the spectacle, a new one in all her years of existence and a little frightened for what the damn Grey beard has just done to her favourite Devil King, the only one in centuries that has show any kindness to her, well, the Kusanagi kid will do in the future but that a thousand years ahead more or less.

The wound on their wrist healed as the power transfusion worked his magic on Magnus, [Jotunblut] was a potent shit anyways, it gives him, literally, the body of a god.

The ritual ended and Pandora cheered, as enthusiastically as ever, the reborn god Magnus Odinsson, Devil King and God all in one.

"I welcome you to the family Magnus" said Odin his name for the first time in all the conversation and Magnus hugged the petite frame of the goddess in response from the cheering.

"I am honoured Odin" replied Magnus treating the old and powerful god, like the brother he was now.

Pandora climbed his body and sat over his broad shoulders, raising her fist to the empty skies of his little dimension in the Netherealm, smiling like she has just conquered a mountain. None of the other two gods pay much attention to the goddess, despite being quite amused with her antics.

"HA!, suck on that hussies, Magnus is mine!" shouted to an empty sky and the absurdity of the situation made Magnus sigh and Odin chucle.

"Ready to test your new powers lad?" smile Odin flaring his divine aura and surprising a little Pandora who fall from his perch but was caught by a broad and powerful pair of arms in a bridal style.

"Surtr be dammed, I'm more than ready" Magnus flared his his own power, a power that had an unique resemblance to Odin and equally powerful.

Pandora blushed in the arms of Magnus, he was felling protected and smiled for how the aura of his adoptive child was equal to the gods now.

"Go give them hell" she pumped her fist in the air and Magnus laughed at the display, allowing her to stand on her feet with care and following Odin into another temporary realm.

The green and white forest of his home land saluted Magnus when he pass through the portal created by the one eyed lord of the Aesir.

As soon as he entered he raise a hand and a rune glow bright in the palm, blocking the curse that Odin has sent his way with a simple wave of his spear.

Odin has changed his appearance, one of the properties of [Fjolnir], the shape shifter, that allow him to change into whatever he wanted.

Now stands before Magnus the lord of the Aesir, the one that embodies war and victory, no matter the cost.

Clad in a golden cuirass, with Gungnir in one hand and his grey bearded face set in stone, Odin was ready for the fight against his new sworn blood brother.

Magnus called Tyrfing to his hand, the flame like blade and the golden hilt of the weapon blemished with power, now that he know what really was the Authority that gave birth to the cursed weapon.

[Dvergar Forge], the power and skill to forge all kind of magical objects, but the origin of the power was Durin, the second dvergar that collaborated with Dvalin in the creation of the sword he had in his hand now.

Odin called winds, raising Gungnir and throwing a tornado against Magnus who simply counterattack with his own twister, created by the [Storm] of Perun.

This time Magnus counterattacked with his own curse and almost choking on the words, he intoned part of a Galdr, much like he do with Perun, but this time trying to aisle Odin of the winds he was commanding.

His third Authority, [Fimbulthurl], the master of all magics, was back with him, and he really appreciated his new blood brother to trust him with it, it was possible one of the most versatile and useful of his Authorities.

Odin noticed how he was losing control over the winds and smiled for the trick the new god has used, he could had countered it, as he has saw it during the battle against Perun but this was a prove for the new powers of the new God and Devil King, something that was utterly impossible by all means but what has happening right in front of them.

Odin called his wolves, Freki and Geri appeared from the forest surrounding them, jumping at Magnus with open jaws and murder in their lupine eyes but their human prey was more than ready for them.

A monstrous claw surged from the back of Magnus, as a twenty feet tall polar bear manifest over him and at his side, roaring his challenge to the wolves who charge with bestial glee against the bear in a battle that has been repeated through eons, in the deeps of the forests of his Northern home lands.

[Polar bear], the inheritance from Nanook, it was a bit different from what he remembers but in all, it was a welcome friend when the things went south and you need an alpha predator ready for the battle.

Odin throw his spear at him, a powerful, devastating, throw that carried the shadow of the spear all over the place, the most dangerous of the tricks under the sleeve of the lord of the Aesir.

The shadow of the spear makes anyone under him, fall under the command of Odin, when he was a Devil King, he used that trick only once to force an entire fleet of Anglos to torn apart each other.

But the cost of the power almost kill him, even with his god like magical reserves.

Odin, on the other hand, had not that problem and he simply throw the spear at him, no matter if he dodged the tip or block the weapon with Tyrfing, his shadow will reach him or he will pass under the weapon, effectively subduing him.

Magnus drag something in the air and pulled with violence to the side, as his movement ended, a dozen branches fly from the nearby forest and trap the spear in mid air, blocking his fly and after surrounding the spear in a wooden cocoon, nullified his shadow.

[Golden apples], the bless of Idunn that brings the immortality to the Aesir, the bless of the goddess who controls the flora of Asgard and by extension, all kind of flora all over the world of Midgard or any of the other Nine Realms.

Odin raised hi only eyebrow, now that was interesting, by blocking the shadow inside a bigger shadow, you diluted the shadow of Gungnir, making his commanding power useless, good thinking, it does seems that the Kvasir was the perfect gift for the younger god.

Magnus went to the offensive and pointed at Odin pronouncing a word, a rune materialized, Nauthr, the rune of the agony, everything branded under this accursed rune fell pain beyond measure.

Odin saw the rune and raise his hands, blocking the rune with his reverse and cancelling each other, but the energies blinded his sane eye for a second, enough time for Magnus to transform into a powerful falcon and fall directly at the face of Odin trying to claw his face and one sane eye.

[Fjolnir], the power of the shape shifting that Odin posses, it was only limited for the knowledge and the imagination of the user, it is needed a perfect understanding of what you are transforming into to perform a real perfect transformation, otherwise it was just appearance.

Odin dodged the falcon and with a wave of his hand send a powerful gust of wind at the bird of prey, the animal stumbled and fall to the ground before rolling a pair of times and transforming back into Magnus.

The lord of Asgard was enjoying the battle, it was not an actual battle to the death but a spar between fellow gods and by Yggdrasil he was enjoying the challenge, Magnus was a clever bastards, using everything on his hand to achieve victory.

Odin was not a kind god, Odin wins, no matter the methods, no matter the cost, that why he was call Yggr, the fearful one, but Magnus was now his own cruel and ruthless streak and he liked it a lot.

Magnus was close enough to draw an arc with Tyrfing, the sword moved in astonishing speed, searching for the blood of the older god but Odin surprised both of them when he raise his arm and block the edge of the sword with the golden armband on his forearm.

Draupnir, the armbands that Balder could bring every day from the original Draupnir and are presented as a symbol of loyalty and reward to the worthiest warriors and the Einherjar, the golden armband was forged as a symbol of Leadership and to rule, and it was hard enough to withstand the power of the former cursed blade.

Odin punched Magnus in the face and to the surprise of the grey bearded god, the man disappeared in a flock of ravens, blinding and deafening him with their loud caws and black feathers.

[Hrafnass], ace of ravens, the ability to completely command the black birds associated with death and prophecy and to transform himself into a murder of ravens when its needed.

Without need to look for it, Odin used his own powers over the wind to flow to a safe distance, not a second too soon, before the tip of Tyrfing pierced the place on where he has been standing and bury his flaming edge into the hard terrain of the land, creating a deep crater when the hit landed on the earth.

Odin landed on his boots and with a fierce smile in his bearded face raise his hand to the skies, darkening he world and starting to shift his appearance to something more terrible, [Valfödhr] , lord of the death and commander of the wild hunts.

Spectres, ghosts, and dead bodies started to emanate from the ground, some of them just appear like a blue mist before they compose themselves into spectral parodies of their living forms, other were more brutal and simply erupted from the earth, with his rotting bodies and rusty belongings still hanging from their bodies.

Magnus blinked at the image, an entire army of death beings was starting to form in front of him, an army that surpass him in numbers by far, and with Odin backing them up, none of his spells or other Authorities will work, as the only ace he had to battle this was the [Polar bear] and he was very busy tearing apart the wolves of Odin.

Tyrfing buzzed in his hand and the knowledge flooded his mind, he was now a master of the death too, the Authority however, only work with those he has kill himself or were under his command when they died.

An entire army of Huns and Goths raise form the ground where Tyrfing was buried, the spectres of the old warriors were in very bad shape, their bodies deeply cut and wound but they stand over death horses and broken armours.

Hundreds and hundreds of death warriors and cavalry surrounded Magnus, who observe all the display alternating between the sword and the growing army of death soldiers, his mind knew how to command this armada of the death but this time was the Kvasir, the one that give him the clue to recognize what was seeing here.

Tyrfing was a cursed weapon, he witness three tragedies before it was cleansed and the last and most bloody of those tragedies was the battle between the Huns and the Goths when Argantyr, future king of the Goths and his half brother Hlod fought for the right of the throne.

More than three hundred warriors and mounted soldiers perish in the last battle of the blood feud between the brothers and despite the Goths being in a numerical disadvantage of twenty to one, Argantyr used Tyrfing to cleave a butchering path in the Huns and finally kill his brother with the sword, ending the curse but flooding the nearby rivers and village in the blood and the corpses of the fallen in battle.

Now, the lives that the sword took, before and after the end of the curse, was Magnus to command.

Taking the blade from the floor and mounting a spectral steed that one of the death warriors presented to him, Magnus commanded the charge, riding the phantasmagorical steed against the lines of the Wild Hunt in a curious repetition of the tragedy that cleansed the sword from the curse.

The death are relentless, they do not care for anything that is not their objective, so when the two armies collide, not mortal army could even approach to the level of violence and cruelty that both sides displayed.

No worst army to face than the army of the death, they far outnumber the living and they will never stop until they are destroyed all their enemies.

Floating over both armies, Magnus in his spectral steed and Odin with Gungnir back in his hand, clashed against each other, sword versus spear in a battle of pure power.

Meanwhile under them, the two armies keep tearing apart each other but when the two gods clashed over them, the shock wave send their bodies, no matter the side, flying in all directions like leafs scattered over the winds.

A massive boom echoed on the skies, cleansing the clouds and the snow, rustling the branches of the threes and destroying all nearby death warriors like they were wet paper in the middle of a devastating tornado.

Both gods fall to the earth, landing loudly and roughly on their backs after the brutal collision of powers, both Tyrfing and Gungnir were smoking near their respective owners after the power they have poured on them.

"Now, that was a good battle" laughed Odin to the cold and clear sky.

Magnus just laughed along the god and suddenly they found themselves again, in the grey empty space that was Pandora realm, with the said goddess looking at both of them with a deep frown.

"Are you nuts?" asked the goddess like a mother scolding a pair of troublesome kids " that was way beyond a test, it was almost if both of you were trying to kill each other".

"That is the Asgardian way Pandora" replied Magnus standing on his feet and dispersing Tyrfing back to its Authority, the sword did protest for the absence of violence but completed at the end.

Odin just stay back, leaning in his spear and with a mischievous smile in his grey beard.

For the surprise of Pandora, Magnus raise her over his head and stat twirling around in laughs, her inner child couldn't but join the laughs pumping her childish fist in the air and cheering the happy Nordmanni.

"I'm alive Pandora, I'm a god and a Devil King now, I burn in desire to explore new realms" told Magnus the child like goddess, stopping the twirling and hugging the little purplenette with fierceness.

"Good to you Magnus" said Pandora, lost all childishness in her voice hugging back the tall and strong young man that Magnus was now.

"Yggdrasil is open to you now lad" chuckled Odin, vanishing in the shadows, he has done what he has to do and now it was time to get back into the myth realm where he belong, the Aesir had a new herald now, a worthy one.

Magnus saw the three like portal in the realm of Pandora, a pathway to a myriad of realities and universes waiting for him to conquer and experiment, all in the name of the Aesir and his own glory, making his Saga the longest and more glorious.

Leaving Pandora in the floor and kissing her head, Magnus walked to the portal, diving into his consciousness to count his powers and check that they are ready for the odyssey that he was about to start.

[Dvergar Forge], [Polar bear], [Fimbulthurl], [Golden apples], [Storm], [Valfödhr], [Fjolnir] and [Hrafnass], echoed through his soul, telling him that he was ready for the incoming travel and eager to battle worthy rivals to add to his Saga.

Magnus put his hand over the edge of the portal and look back to a saddened Pandora, she hated to be alone and the times the Devil King visit her was always so little...

"See you around...Mom" said Magnus jumping at portal.

Pandora froze for several minutes, mouth agape and blinking at the portal that was disappearing at soon as the body of Magnus jumped through it.

Suddenly, the child like goddess jumped a feet in the air and shouted with all the might of her lungs.

"YES!, FINALLY HE CALL ME MOM!".

The laughing joy of Pandora echoed in all the Netherealm of her as for the first time in history, some of her Devil King has accepted her as mom.

Meanwhile Magnus was not enjoying his last trick, as he has discovered, the worst way possible, that the dimensional travels are a complete, fucking mess and what is worst, he didn't have the slightest idea where the fuck has going to land...

Well, it will be quite the adventure anyways.