Chapter 28

More than meets the eye

The audience of the Valhalla Arena chattered excitedly amongst themselves, Humanity had just scored their first win against the gods once again in the third round, and they were now gearing up for the fourth almost immediately after? The Three Suns must not have taken their first loss kindly and were certainly ready to retaliate!

"NOW THEN!" Heimdall called, "With the score between the Heavens and mankind currently at 2-1. I'm sure everyone is excited for Round 4 of Ragnarok! Will humanity be able to tie up the score as they did before? Or will the gods regain the flow of the fight! I suppose we shall just have to wait and see, now! REPRESENTING HUMANITY!" The Watchman of the Apocalypse directed everyone's attention towards mankind's side.

"In the lives of mortal men, DEATH is but the one true constant! An inevitability that all humans slowly march towards! And throughout the vast expanse of time, there have been those foolish enough to fear it, resist it, challenge it! But, in the end they ALWAYS fail! But out of all of these people, HE is perhaps the MOST successful of the lot!"

As the crowds watched on, you could imagine the immense surprise and skepticism plastered across their faces, as the elderly form of Koschei appeared from within the darkness of the corridor. The old man sported a black tunic with a chainmail shirt underneath to match. His arms sported two leather bracers, trimmed with white fur and decorated with two bone spikes on either side, and atop his head Koschei wore an old crown seemingly made out of gold, though the small amount of green rust on it suggested otherwise. Walking towards the arena, Koschei's wrinkled face was carefree and optimistic, whistling as he spun his sickle casually by his side. Despite their doubts, the audience now knew far better than to make such quick assumptions about fighters solely based on their appearances.

"How he cheated death, no one knows. How he continued to do so for so many years, a mystery to all as well! But despite his powers, death is inevitable, and when his soul eventually DID ascend to the Heavens, the gods punished his arrogance and defilement of the laws of nature! While others would live out their days in Valhalla in their golden years, HE would stay perpetually in the decrepit and ailing form of old age! His bones, brittle! And his breath, ragged!

Koschei came to a pause, about a few meters away from the center of the arena, the old man narrowed his eyes, gauging the distance before slowly bending his knees, and with a graceful leap and somersault, shocked the audience and Heimdall with agility that seemed impossible for his feeble old body, as he landed with a soft thud next to the Watchman of the Apocalypse.

Quickly recovering from his shock, Heimdall cleared his throat as he finished Koschei's introduction, "But as we have just seen! While his body may now forever be trapped in his twilight years, it certainly seems that this has not hindered him in the SLIGHTEST! Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the very man who has experienced death ONE THOUSAND times over, gaining one simple epithet that perfectly reflects such! He is…"

"KOSCHEI THE DEATHLESS!"


Representative of Humanity for Round 4

Koschei the Deathless (Russia)


"Oh, uhm apologies for speaking up Heimdall," Koschei chimed in as Heimdall finished his introduction, "I don't actually go by that name anymore, it's actually JUST Koschei now."

"Oh! Uh, sorry what's that?" Heimdall said, turning to face the old man.

"Well, you see, the whole deathless thing was only when I was still ALIVE on earth, now that I've actually DIED and gone up here in Heaven… Well, I'm not really deathless anymore, see? So I don't really like to go by that epithet anymore."

"Oh, I see, I see. Understandable," Heimdall replied, nodding his head, "But you know, and I'm in no way trying to offend of course, but Koschei the deathless DOES sound more exciting for the audience as compared to just Koschei. And I do need to get the crowd riled up in anticipation for the fight as the announcer of each round, but please accept my apologies regardless."

"No, it's fine I completely understand, no need to apologize, Heimdall," Koschei said quickly, "I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place making your job harder, especially since you've already said it, not like you can just retract your words and start over, eh? Do forgive my rudeness, I think you're doing an excellent job as our announcer so far!"

"Ah, thanks! And no offense taken at all." Heimdall answered with a slight smile at the praise, there was an awkward pause for a moment or two as he and Koschei stood silently in the arena for a moment or two, glancing around awkwardly as a few coughs could be heard coming from the audience…

"A-anyway," Heimdall said, breaking the silence as he raised his Gjallarhorn once again and now gestured towards the god's side of the arena, "My apologies for getting sidetracked, not now, FIGHTING FOR THE GODS! Once upon a time, this god was known by all as the Duat's greatest warrior! Brother of the then Chief God, Pharaoh Osiris, and of course as Prince of the Duat! Yet now, he is known best by just ONE name, a shameful name fit for the magnitude and evilness of his deeds!"

As Heimdall spoke, slow thumping footsteps echoed from within the darkness of the corridor leading to the arena, as though something heavy was coming towards the arena. And as each thump reverberated from within the hallway, heard too was a strange creaking shuffling noise as though something heavy was dragged slowly across the ground. Following that, the arena also heard the loud rattling of metal chains, the mixture of these three noises grew louder and louder as the owner moved closer to the light at his slow pace, causing quite a few audience members to shiver slightly in fear of whatever was approaching.

"Angered that he himself did not sit upon the throne, this god allowed envy and resentment to poison his heart! And in turn, leading him to commit the heinous act of fratricide! Murdering his brother to seize control for himself, he ruled over the Duat for a dark period of time with an iron fist! Until the day Osiris' son and rightful heir, Horus the Avenger, returned to avenge his father's murder and reclaim his birthright from the usurper, in a battle that shook the heavens to its very core! And with his victory, IMPRISON his treacherous uncle into the darkest depths of the Duat's dungeon!"

"N-no way!" A god whimpered, "HE'S Ra's next fighter?"

"First Sobek, now THIS guy?" Another deity chimed in, " Gosh couldn't the Duat have sent out a more honorable god to fight! Really hard to cheer for him, of all people."

"Yeah! Though he hasn't been seen for quite a bit… I can't help but wonder what strengths and skills he has in store for us after so many centuries."

"But now! This god has returned from his exile! Has his millenia-long imprisonment dampened his past viciousness and cunning? Or has it only GROWN whilst trapped in a dark cell, slowly allowing his hatred boil and increase tenfold? We shall just have to wait and see, for here is the fallen prince, the Murderer of Osiris, the Usurper of the Duat! He is…"

"SET!?"


Representative of the Gods for Round 4'

Set (Egypt)


As Heimdall, Koschei and the rest of the arena watched on with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, wondering what the infamous Set would look like. Perhaps a hulking brute would come stomping out of the god's corner, armed to the very teeth. Or maybe he would be some cunning, savage monster that had to be restrained by chains and bondage. So it was to their great surprise, when the Usurper of the Duat revealed himself to be the same skinny god that Ra had met in the palace dungeons. Set was also dressed almost exactly as he had previously been, complete with manacles on his wrist and ankles. Holding a red saber on either hand, though he now also sported spaulders and a red usekh. However, this was not the biggest change to the god's outfit.

Attached to each of Set's manacle were a set of long metal chains, looking stronger and sturdier than his old ones in his cell, with tiny runes and symbols etched into each link. The chains were wrapped around Set's arm as a sort of gauntlet, before leading downwards and trailing behind the god, revealing the four large metal balls they were attached to.

Making his way to the center of the arena, Set would slowly raise a foot into the air, before planting it back down just as slowly. Making for a strange and awkward scene of the infamous fallen prince slowly shuffling forward with great effort, with the four metal balls behind him being dragged loudly across the ground, even causing a few spectators to cover their ears from the ear-splitting screech produced as he moved.

"Uh, Lord Ra?" Huitzilopochtli turned to face Ra in the God's VIP room, even though the Egyptian Sun God wore his usual calm and stoic expression, the slight twitch in his eye showed the irritation he was feeling at Set's performance, "W-what is Set wearing?"

"If I am not mistaken, Huitzilopochtli," Ra snarled through gritted teeth, "Those restraints should each be about as heavy as seven war elephants. Meaning that our chained friend down there… Is trying to be funny…"

In the Human's VIP room, Prometheus had just finished explaining the same thing to Göll and Pandora.

"I see," Pandora replied, turning to look at the fallen prince, "But why would Set purposely handicap himself like that?"

Prometheus shrugged as he eyed Set warily as well, "I wish I knew, Pandora. But it seems that for now we shall just have to wait and see."

As Set continued to slowly move towards the center of the arena, Koschei squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look at his opponent, "Hm, not what I was expecting from a god at all…" He thought to himself, slightly tilting his head back. Revealing Chernabog, the Death Deity once again only visible to his eyes, and his alone. Standing silently behind him a good few feet away, "And Chernabog isn't breathing down my neck yet… Hm, so it seems I'm in the clear for now…"

After a few more awkward seconds, Set finally shuffled his way up to the center of the battlefield with a small grunt of effort. The fallen prince nonchalantly drummed his fingers on his thighs as he glanced around the entire arena, who were all silently watching him, with pursed lips.

"Well?" Set said, in a bored manner as he turned to face Heimdall again, "You can start the match anytime now if you want, Heimdall."

"Huh? Oh! Uh, yes of course!" The Watchman of the Apocalypse said with a start, like everyone else he had been slightly stunned by Set's strange entrance, "My apologies for getting sidetracked once again folks! But anyways, fighting for humanity! KOSCHEI! And fighting for the gods, SET! Let Ragnarok Round 4… BEGIN!"

Without warning, Koschei sprung forward with his scythe raised the moment Heimdall gave the green light. The close distance between him and Set, as well as the fact that his opponent's arms and legs were burdened by the weight of the chains, made it seem that Set had little to no chance of blocking or dodging this quick strike!

Despite his dire circumstance, Set merely rolled his eyes with a sigh, watching the sharp blade of Koschei's scythe coming closer and closer towards him. The Usurper's actions only served to fuel Koschei's confusion and uneasiness; things were definitely not as they seemed. And sure enough, just before his scythe touched Set's body, Koschei was made aware of Chernabog's inky black claws hovering above his shoulders. A chill ran down the old man's spine, that could only mean one thing…

"CLANG!" The recoil produced by his scythe loud metallic clash against Set's left saber shook Koschei to the core, the old man's eyes widened in shock. Had it not been for his heightened battle senses, Koschei might have very well seen what most of the audience members saw, Set's arm suddenly appearing in a new position in the blink of an eye. Instead, almost as if he was watching a clip in slow-motion, Koschei was able to see the fallen prince's arm twitch before with a sudden jerk, shooting upwards to counter his strike! Such agility shouldn't have been possible with such heavy weights on his limbs!

Before Koschei had time to properly get over his shock, he was brought back to his senses by the cold breath of Chernabog blowing next to his cheek, the Death Deity was even closer now. Glancing to his right, Koschei saw Set's right saber already hurtling towards his undefended side, but thanks to his battle senses, the old man was just quick enough to jump backwards and distance himself from his foe. As he did, so did the ominous presence lurking behind Koschei.

Set held his pose for a moment or two, before allowing his arms to fall heavily by his side once again with a loud rattle of his chains. Koschei tensed, waiting for Set to unleash his unprecedented speed, and charge towards him. Instead, the Usurper of the Duat continued his awkward shuffle from before, slowly dragging his heavy restraints behind him as he moved towards Koschei at a snail's pace.

"I-I'm simply lost for words!" Heimdall yelled gobsmacked amidst the confused and angry murmurs of the crowd, "Despite his heavy bondage, Set is SOMEHOW able to launch incredibly lightning-fast attacks! Y-yet, now that he has the upper hand, he chooses NOT to push it? Is he even TRYING to win?" But despite all this, Set seemed in no hurry to make his move, continuing his shuffle at a leisurely pace.

Koschei gave a raspy chuckle, "Well, well! Seems like someone is more than meets the eye! Why the chains, god? Looking down on me even before the match, are we?"

Set merely shrugged, "You don't question me about my fashion choices, and I won't ask about the spooky companion you have behind your back."

Koschei raised an eyebrow, "Hm, I see… I'm beginning to wonder why he has been making his presence known to others as of late." Without warning, and despite seeing what Set was capable of, Koschei raised his scythe and charged towards his foe again.

Set gave a small snort, and to the crowd's amazement, the following fight had both fighters seemingly have whirlwinds of sharp metal rapidly spinning around their hands and wrist. As loud ringing clangs were heard as Set's saber and Koschei's scythe collided against each other over and over again. Koschei was nimble and fast, darting from left to right trying to break through his opponent's defense, all while having Chernabog once again breathing down his neck. Set, in contrast, was an unmovable wall. The Usurper of the Duat firmly held his ground, his entire body, save his arms and hands, not even moving a single inch as he parried and blocked every attack Koschei sent his way with lightning-fast efficiency.

"It perplexes me," Set said casually in between blows, "As to why someone who spent his entire life running from death, would willingly choose to fight in Ragnarok of his own accord. Was it fame, glory or riches? What is it that you could have possibly gained from this?"

Koschei gritted his teeth, as another of his attacks was countered by Set, before he had to promptly dodge one of the god's own, "Not everything is simply about material gain, foolish god. I did not choose to do battle for reasons so simple and petty."

Without warning, Set suddenly crossed his arms, holding his sabers far behind his head as he faced Koschei, ready to pounce. The old man's eyes widened as he felt Chernabog's claws grip onto his shoulder, Koschei's every instinct yelled at him to retreat, and as quickly as he could, Koschei ducked down whilst simultaneously pushing his foot against the ground to launch himself backwards. Just in time for Set to swing his blades outwards, producing a massive shockwave that crashed into the arena walls, shaking them to their very foundations.

"Oh, come on!" Heimdall exclaimed, " We JUST got those fixed!"

Koschei slowly raised his head as he got to his feet, while he had been able to dodge the attack, it was revealed that he had been slightly grazed on his right arm, parts of his chainmail sleeves had been cut through, leaving a small bloody gash in his leathery skin.

As for Set, the Usurper of the Duat did not even utter so much as a taunt. Despite having the upper hand once again, Set merely chose to lower his arms and held his sword limp by his sides. Continuing to slowly make his way towards Koschei's side of the arena. However, after that simple display of strength and speed, Set's gait was no longer a shuffling crawl in the eyes of the audience. But instead, slow intimidating steps, each bringing him closer and closer towards his prey.

"Not bad, Koschei the Deathless," Set commented, tilting his head slightly, "Surprising that you still have so much spring in your step despite your looks."

Koschei coughed, steadying himself with his scythe, "Rich coming from YOU of all people, hm? But please my good man…" At that moment, dark sinister energy materialized around Koschei's scythe out of nowhere, beginning to swirl and twist around it till it formed the shape of a ghastly human skull, mouth wide open and agape. Koschei swung his scythe around, and with a grunt of effort, sent the smoking skull flying off the scythe's blade with a piercing eerie howl. A terrifying sight for sure, but much slower than his previous attacks.

"VECHNOST GRASP: SPECTRAL SHOT!"

Set shook his head with a sigh seeing the incoming projectile, "Interesting, though a complete waste of effort on your part," He said as he simply held his sabers out in an X, already prepared to block the apparition, "But I'll entertain it nonetheless."

The howling skull drew closer towards Set crossed blades, and the god fully expected it to burst and dissipated the moment it made contact with his Divine Metal. This assumption only served to fuel Set's confusion, as the skull did not in fact burst upon contact as he had previously thought. But rather, it appeared translucent momentarily, before passing through his sabers and outstretched hands, continuing on straight towards him?! As the projectile reached Set's body, the skull turned fully solid once again, slamming heavily into his chest with a ghastly screech and a burst of black smoke, forcing the fallen prince backwards dazed. Some of the Linen bandages covering his upper torso tore apart, revealing a bruised chest.

Koschei gave a grim smirk as he bore witness to his attack landing, "Just call me Koschei."