"FRRREEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The roar encompassed the battlefield. All that heard it froze as a feeling of bloodlust spread through each adventurer like wildfire. From the 1 on 1 battles between the level 1 and 2s all the way up to Ottar facing off against three first-class adventurers. All felt it.

All eyes were directed to where the unholy scream echoed from, the segment of the battlefield that housed the allied deities. From the fighter's perspective, in a matter of a few minutes, the allied forces had gone from 500 adventurers to now less than a hundred. At this point, the massive numbers advantage that Liliruca had banked on had all but vanished and couple that with the loss of Tsubaki and the rest of the Hephaestus Familia, the Freya Familia held a distinct advantage now.

Welf grimaced as he lay on the floor, his blood running cold as he felt the immense pressure overcome him. Having been swiftly taken down by Vana Freya earlier, the blacksmith had done his best to hold out, providing support with his magic swords. He was one of the firmest believers that they would win this War Game and that Bell would triumph but after each announcement that another allied deity had been eliminated, that belief wavered.

Welf knew who was causing such a monstrous amount of bloodlust. He had roared in rage after Lili revealed that it was Nathan under Freya's charm that was attacking their backlines. Welf had begun recklessly thrashing his swords about, sending typhons of fire and lightning towards the Freya Familia.

But those Freya Familia members were in the same boat as himself and everyone else he could see. He could tell who the higher level adventures were because they were just managing to stay on their feet while everyone else was pushed onto their knees.

Welf gritted his teeth in anger as all he could do was think about the situation. He assumed that Nathan had broken free of Freya's charm and was now ready to fight against her. But that amount of bloodlust doesn't come from nowhere. Not even the time in the dungeon when they were attacked by Ishtar Familia did Nathan's bloodlust reach this height.

Welf felt close to passing out. A few had already succumbed, lying unconscious on the ground. He managed to turn his head, wanting to see the Freya Familia. He wanted to see their fear, for them to suffer the way their Goddess had made his brothers suffered. Both Bell and Welf had done through unimaginable mental suffering because of her. Welf knew what was going to come, he knew very few could stop it. After what Finn Deimne had told them about Knossos, Welf knew that this was it.

The red-haired blacksmith managed to make out a woman in a tattered healer's uniform. With pink hair dressed up in pig-tails, he recognised her as the main healer for Freya Familia, Heith Velvet. As a level 4, she was managing to stay on her feet but he could see the shakiness in her stance.

With all credit to the woman, she had begun chanting her powerful healing magic. Maybe she hoped it would negate Nathan's wrath or maybe she wanted to heal injuries caused by his own magic sword barrage.

Welf cursed her under his breath as he felt his eye lids begin to drop. He cursed his own weakness to not be able to stay awake, knowing Nathan needed him now more than ever. Welf was afraid. Not for his own safety or even that of his Familia members. He was almost glad the Hephaestus Familia had been eliminated, meaning they won't be in danger of what was about to happen because what scared Welf the most was that apart from Bell, who had his hands full already, there was no one to stop Nathan from hurting himself.

As Heith raised her staff, ready to finish off her chant through shaky breaths, she felt a sharp gust of wind fly past her, a cold chill running down her spine. It made her freeze for a second. Welf hadn't seen it, no one had. The wall behind her was smashed as it crumbled into pieces from whatever had impacted it. As the dust cleared, the last thing they all saw before they were forced unconscious was the image of Heith Velvet being split in half as a slash of wind sliced through her body.

As soon as Alfrigg and his two brothers felt the bloodlust, they had no choice for their next move. Wielding his spear and his deceased brothers hammer, Alfrigg Gulliver raced off, Berling and Grer following close behind, one holding a greatsword while the other grasped onto his great-axe. They had a vendetta to settle.

They ignored everyone else, including Hedin's warning to not engage, and quickly made it to the main battlefield. Alfrigg made a quick scan of the situation, his heart beating in his chest as sweat began pouring down his forehead. The intensity of the half-elf's wrath only grew.

Spread across the battlefield, every single fighter lay unconscious. Alfrigg recognised those part of his Familia that were level 3s and 4s. He saw his enemies lay face down, their weapons next to them. The half-elf's wrath did not discriminate. It swallowed all and Alfrigg had to steel his nerves to stay on his feet.

This had grown above their want for revenge now as Bringar saw what they were up against. This hatred, this bloodlust. They, like all others, had heard the howl of their Lady's name. Their revenge had now become a luxury as their main object now was to stop whatever beast was walking towards them, it's mission to send their Goddess back to heaven.

Berling blood ran cold as he noticed the dismembered corpse of Heith, blood spilling out from both parts of her body. He clenched his hands as he anxiously awaited the oncoming fight.

Grer struggled to grip his greatsword properly, his hands twitching as he scanned his surroundings. The brothers never needed to communicate, all knowing what each other was thinking. Whenever they fought, they all had their own directions to look. But now, with one of them missing, it caused confusion. Confusion that needed to be dealt with when facing such a foe.

But they didn't need to worry about any surprise attack from behind or to the side. Their level 5 ears quickly picked up on the sound of a pair of feet walking towards them. They all stood on a pillar each, overlooking the arena as they stared the oncoming enemy.

With his swords dangling in his hands that hung limply by his sides, encompassed in a black blizzard of wind, Skias Alf approached. They weren't surprised by the state his body was in; they had helped cause it. They couldn't differentiate his blood or what was others. His ribs poked out of his skin as his cheeks looked hollow and malnourished, each bit of skin etched with scars and wounds.

If they had never encountered the boy, they would dismiss him. He looked the definition of weak. But as his black eyes stared up at them, they knew it was the exact opposite. Their adventurer instincts were yelling at them to flee, that the thing in front of them was not a mortal. But this only angered Alfrigg even more, knowing that it was this bastard that took his brother from him and threatened to hurt his beloved Goddess. He would not allow it.

The divine mirrors in Orario had all switched to following Nathan, the Gods curiosity to vast to care for the mortals that may not want to see this fight.

As they watched the half-elf bob his head from side to side, examining each prum, they saw a smile begin to form. It was not a kind smile; it was sadistic and vile. A smile that would only belong to a villain straight out of a hero book.

Nathan tilted his head back and to the side as his psychotic smile widened as he saw all three Prum brothers looking down at him, their sand coloured helmets hiding their burning hatred. He pointed to the fourth pillar that stood next to Grer and laughed.

"Where's the other one?"

Alfrigg roared in anger as he pounced at the half-elf who only smiled more. He threw all his strength into his right arm, swinging Dvallin's hammer down on his enemy. With a War Cry, Alfrigg slammed the giant black hammer right at Nathan's head. Alfrigg felt his attack blocked but the Prum wasted no time, thrusting his spear underneath. He wanted to create an opening for his brothers to attack, pinning the half-elf down. By keeping his swords busy dealing with him, Berling and Grer would have an easy opening. That was how he expected things to go. What Alfrigg didn't expect was for his spear to find its mark and slice through the lower abdomen of the half-elf.

Blood spurted out of the wound as Alfrigg's spear pierced through Nathan's body, poking out the other side. Berling and Grer had anticipated their brother but after seeing his successful attack, they halted their progress, too stunned at the lack of movement from the half-elf.

Alfrigg had lost his train of thought for a moment but quickly regained his composure. Even if this wasn't what he thought would happen, it was a win in his eyes. Any damage to the half-elf was a success.

'Maybe he really has lost it and he doesn't know what's going on. This time I'll make it quick.'

Alfrigg finished his thought by ripping his spear back through Nathan's body. Well, that was what he attempted but he was quickly stopped. Ducking under his hammer attack that was still being held off, Alfrigg looked at his spear. His eyes widened in shock.

A firm, pale hand had grasped the end of the spear, stopping the spearhead from being removed. Alfrigg saw a sword on the floor, no he actually saw two. But wasn't the other one blocking his hammer attack.

Alfrigg examined his opponent. One hand firmly keeping the prum's spear inside his body while his other hand was clasped around the edge of the hammer, holding it steady. All the while, the psychotic smile hadn't faded, in fact it had grown even wilder as a trickle of blood slipped out his lips.

Alfrigg struggled to breath, a ball of saliva building in his throat as he made eye contact. The gruesome gash that scarred his face held a jade ball that was encompassed by a black swarm of void, a vindictive glint nestled on the iris.

Grer and Berling stood off to the side, not knowing what to do. They saw what was happening, they saw that they had an easy opening. But that smile, the feeling of terror... they couldn't do it. Frozen to the spot, they could only watch as Alfrigg tried to escape. Yanking his spear again, only to be thwarted. He tried to pull his hammer free but all Nathan did was grasp tighter, his knuckles turning white as he slowly pulled the hammer further away from Alfrigg.

Alfrigg was pulling with desperation, frantically attempting to flee without relinquishing his weapons. All the while, the half-elf continued to stare down the prum, his gleeful smile terrifying the oldest Prum brother.

At this, Grer and Berling shook themselves out of their frozen state and pounced. Nathan didn't turn his head to acknowledge them. He had waited for this, his instinct ability ready.

With one last tug, Alfrigg yanked his spear free but as he did so, Nathan let go, sending the Level 5 stumbling back as he had expected resistance. With this, Nathan used his free hand to grab the Great hammer away from Alfrigg and swivel it just in time to block Grer's attack with his great-axe. A shockwave rippled across the battlefield at the clash between two first-class adventurers. But Berling had rushed at the same time, his Greatsword ready to split the half-elf in two the same way Nathan had done to Heith. But Alfrigg saw it.

For the mortals and gods watching the fight, this had happened in seconds, the level 5s moving at a blur but Alfrigg was a level 5 and he saw it clear as day. As if the half-elf could see behind him or that he knew exactly what Berling was going to do, Nathan took a step backwards into Berling's attack. Grer lost his balance after pushing his weight on the giant hammer. It wasn't as bad as Alfrigg but in that fraction of a second, Grer was also out of the fight and that meant it was a 1v1.

Nathan had known this ever since he hit level 3. He had told his Old and New Goddess. He had told Hermes and the Hestia Familia. Ever since he had hit level 3, this had become a fact in his fights against other adventurers. If he was in against a single opponent of the same level, he would win.

Nathan wasn't thinking straight, in fact he wasn't thinking at all except bloody murder. His vision clouded with the red of anger and the blackness of his true nature. But when he fought, it didn't matter. In a battle of life and death, Nathan was in his element.

As Berling sliced his greatsword down, Nathan had pushed backwards and time slowed down to a crawl for the two. The half-elf managed to grab the hilt of the Prum's sword, twisting it as he twisted his own body. Berling countered this by jerking his hand upwards, raising his sword just before it hit the ground, using an absurd amount of strength.

Nathan still held onto the hilt as he continued sliding along the ground, picking up his dropped sword. Using this, he spun around to face the prum.

Berling carried his own weight as he quickly shifted his stance, thrusting his sword forward. He looked past the half-elf and saw Grer had recovered and was getting ready to pounce back. But as he watched his brother recovering, he could only watch as the half-elf slowly spun around to face him. The jerky motion of the Prum did little to throw the half-elf off.

Berling released one hand from his sword, now using a single grip to fight the half-elf for possession of the weapon. Berling used all his experience and skill, all the time he had spent honing his craft. He suddenly pulled his sword back into his body in a way only an expert swordsman could manage. He readied his fist. He saw the gaping wound in the boy's body where Alfrigg's spear had injured his opponent and aimed his fist for it. But a glint entered his eyes.

Alfrigg could only watch as he regained his balance as Berling expertly dealt with the half-elf, only for Skias Alf to dance around him, using this brothers moves against him. This all combined as Berling pulled his sword inwards, thrusting the half-elf towards him. Berling hadn't seen it, Alfrigg had. The sword in the half-elf's off hand and Berling had put himself in its range.

Alfrigg had a chance to kill the half-elf on several occasions. When they initially captured him when he tried to sneak attack Goddess Freya or the countless times he saw him locked up underneath Folkvangr. Even just a few seconds ago, if he had just aimed his spear slightly upwards, the boy would be dead. But he wasn't.

In the span of one second, Berling glimpsed the sword rushing to his stomach. With his first-class speed, he parried the strike but it was wild, a pure desperate attempt of survival. Nathan, slicing his sword against the hardened steel, looked in between the flying sparks. He sent out a kick, connecting with the prum's knee, sending him down.

The next second consisted of Berling managing to block the sword with his arm brace, quickly having to drop his greatsword to hold back the overpowering strength that Nathan was bringing down on the prum with his sword.

The third, and final, second showed the deadlock quickly breaking as Berling tried to push upwards. With a desperate punch, Berling lashed out but Nathan easily read his attack and with a swift move, the half-elf flew past the out-stretched hand and dug his sword into the prum's torso.

"BEERRRRLLLIIINNNNGGGGG!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Alfrigg and Grer roared with anger as they watched their second brother die in front of them. The greatsword lay on the floor as its owner's body sat skewered on his killers' sword. Nathan paid them no attention, swatting his sword free of the dead body. He cracked his neck as he looked at his two opponents, the same smile plastered on his face.

"two down... two to go."

Alfrigg and Grer fought with the ferocity of monsters. They had now forget all sense, their vision painted red as they focused their entire strength on killing the half-elf. The sadistic smirk that sat on the boy's face only enraged them even more, taunting them to keep trying.

Sonic booms erupted around the battlefield as all conscious eyes were drawn to the part of the battleground the fight between the twins and Skias Alf was taking place. Each time a bit of steel connected or a punch was block, a shockwave rippled across the land. Bodies of those laying on the ground were swept away in the small hurricanes the three opponents were creating, their velocity almost breaking the sound barrier.

Alfrigg lunged in with his spear while simultaneously bringing Dvallin's hammer down. At the same time, Grer jumped high, bringing his great-axe and Berling's greatsword down in a swinging arch. Nathan darted forwards, meeting Alfrigg, parring the prum's spear upwards before blocking the hammer with his exposed shin. The boy didn't show any pain as he kicked the hammer backwards just before Grer closed the gap, where Nathan pirouetted out of the way. Alfrigg was forced to block the double swing from the half-elf as he spun around, his swords ready to slice Grer's head off.

The Prum's once again dashed away before the half-elf had any chance to form a counter. They knew they had to fight the half-elf together. With only a second to catch their breath, the prum's dove back in with all the enough ferociousness and bloodlust to match Nathan.

For those watching, it was a spectacle in defensive fighting from the half-elf if it wasn't clouded by the ominous tones and the vicious intentions. The way he ducked, dodged and clashed with the first-class adventurers, making moves and decision in a nano-second that instantly gave him the upper-hand. Finn had known about Nathan's ability to read moves but hadn't realised it was this strong. The boy's anger had clearly given him a ridiculous strength and defensive bonus, or maybe he just didn't care about his own life as blood continued to spill out of the hole Alfrigg had made in the half-elf's stomach.

Sparks flew all around Nathan as dirt and dust was kicked up around him. Nathan was enjoying this, wanting his attackers to feel every bit of pain they had made him feel. Every bit of agony their Goddess had put him through. Because of her, he had been made to hurt his Goddess.

At the reminder, Nathan's wrath spiked significantly, taking Alfrigg and Grer off guard. Nathan narrowed his eyes as he spotted the stutter and when his instinct ability was telling him that an attack wasn't imminent, the half-elf decided it was time for more blood to spill.

Alfrigg and Grer had been frozen at the immense pressure of wrath spilling out of their enemy. The boy had yet to move, only infuriating them further but they still had their instincts about them and their flight and fight had kicked in once more. They both had paused, staring at the half-elf standing in between them. A spike could only mean one thing, an attack was about to happen.

For Grer, he was too afraid to even blink. Even a fraction of a second taking away from looking at Skias Alf could mean life or death. The monster didn't wait for the prum to blink.

With a ferocious amount of speed, Nathan closed the gap between himself and Grer. With only enough time to block, Nathan put all his strength in to his boot as he slammed the Prum in his abdomen. Grer felt all the air rush out of his lungs as blood splattered out of his mouth, as if he had been punched by the Udaeus.

In a similar way to how Asterius had beaten Nathan a few months earlier, Nathan had hit the prum so hard, it had sent him spiralling upwards. Before Alfrigg had time to reach him, Nathan leapt upwards, creating a small crater from where he had jumped.

The wind whistled in Grer's ears as he tried to control his body. Tears stung at his eyes as the wind felt like knives striking his skin. The pain from his stomach was almost unbearable but he had dealt with worse. He just needed to regain his bearings and he could still come out of this somewhat unharmed.

Just as he made to the crux of his flight, something flew past him. A small shadow had blocked out the sunlight for a mere fraction but it had been enough to gain his attention. Just before he entered freefall, Grer was left stationary in mid-air. For a regular person, the second would only feel brief but for a level 5, it lasted a lifetime. Stood above him, on a disc of black wind and with the same psychotic smile and sadistic glint in his eyes, Nathan looked down at Grer. Grer went pale with fear as he saw the black tendrils fully encircle the boy's jade irises.

Grer began plummeting fast. He was helping this, wanting to fall as fast as possible. He knew he could survive this height, even if it meant bad injuries. Anything was better than dealing with the half-elf.

He had managed to hold onto his great-axe, swinging it wildly around him as he spun around, looking for the half-elf. Then it happened. He felt his back burn as a sword sliced through a bit of his skin. Then again and again.

"AARRRGHH!"

His blood began raining down as the half-elf began tearing into him as Grer cried out in pain but it didn't matter. As he was spun around by the onslaught of attacks, he managed to glimpse the earth plummet towards him as he saw his brother. But just before he hit the ground, he spun a bit more and he saw it. Rushing him, running on air with two swords ready like fangs, the half-elf dashed towards.

He felt his ribcage break in his torso as the half-elf connected with his body once more and sent him hurtling into the sky once more. He barely heard his brother roar in anger as felt the presence of the monster chase him back into the sky.

Alfrigg felt anger. He felt pure anger. He felt immense rage and sadness. But most of all he felt helpless. Helpless as he watched his brother's body get torn to shreds as Skias Alf ripped through his skin and flesh.

The half-elf was taking his time killing his brother and he was making sure Alfrigg knew it. He had looked down at Alfrigg a few times before attacking, goading him to join them. Alfrigg wanted to, he desperately wanted to cave in the skull of that bastard but he already knew that as soon as he left solid ground, he was as good as dead.

So all he could do was watch in helpless despair as he watched his brother get ripped apart. It was torture for both prums as Alfrigg felt the warm spots of blood hit his face, knowing that it was his brother's life dripping away. His last brother was about to die.

At the speed Nathan was moving, he was starting to create after images. The blurry speed he was pushing off his platforms of air as he dashed around the sky like a pack of harpies descending on its prey. He could've dealt a clean blow across the neck. Maybe if the Freya Familia hadn't tortured him or kidnapped his captain or threatened his Goddess or hurt his family. Then he might have considered it. But there was no consideration, no thoughts of kindness or mercy or any thoughts what so ever.

With a final push off a wind platform, Alfrigg watched with rage and despair in his eyes as his third and final brother was killed. His body quickly plunged to the earth and with violent slam, Grer's corpse lay only a few metres away from his other deceased brother.

Alfrigg just stared at them, tears brimming in his eyes. He removed his sand coloured helmet, letting his anger on full display. His bloodlust was almost rivalling the half-elf that made an over-exaggerated landing.

The whole of Orario was now watching the ending to this fight. It had gone from a 3v1, with most thinking that the half-elf couldn't take them on, to a 1v1 and with most of the city looking on in horror and shock at the violence and power they had just witnessed.

Nathan could only smile as he stared down the prum who was sending him the worst death stare he had ever received. It was now a 1v1, an equal fight. And Nathan never lost an equal fight.

Nathan spun his swords twice in his hands as he approached the prum before swiftly connecting them. He passed the dead body of his victims. He disrespectfully ignored the two bodies, stepping over them as if they weren't even there.

His bare feet glistened with blood as his swords dripped with the red liquid. It smeared his face and body, no distinguish between what was his or Alfrigg's brothers. It didn't matter to either fighters.

Alfrigg's eyes had glazed over now. The Prum had lost all sense of himself or where he was. His eyes just darted between his brother's corpses and the blood dripping from Nathan's swords. His face had turned red long ago but it was close to exploding at the primal rage that was bubbling up.

"RRRAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

There were no more words exchanged as the final member of Bringar rushed the Skias Alf. Nathan met the frenzied storm of attacks, his conjoined blades parrying and blocking attacks from the spear and hammer.

Alfrigg just continued to roar with each strike as the half-elf just stood still, barely moving. Only his arms doing most of the work. When Alfrigg thrusted his spear at the boy's neck, Nathan simply side-stepped the prum who stepped forward with his momentum. He was open, an easy kill but Nathan's eyes gleamed more as he stuck his leg out, kicking the prum square in the chest.

Alfrigg was sent hurtling at a horrifying velocity as he smashed into a giant stone pillar. But Alfrigg had succumbed to his anger completely and ignoring his injuries, the broken bones and splashes of blood loss that hit the ground, the prum just howled in anger once more as he pushed off the dirt, charging at his enemy like a deranged monster from the dungeon.

Nathan's body was in pain and was close to collapsing but that had been the case since Freya had begun her torture. He still stood; his swords ready to kill all those that stood in front of him. He had enjoyed the prum's anger and pain, but with that final kick he was ready to end it. He still had other enemies to take care and he had a promise to fulfil to the Goddess of beauty.

His instinct ringed in his mind, informing him of the attack but Alfrigg was so consumed by anger that his moves were easy to read with the naked eye. The Prum swung his hammer horizontally, making Nathan take a step backwards. Alfrigg used this to drop the hammer and lunge with his spear. Nathan simply shuffled his feet, regaining his balance in an instant and brought one of his swords to meet the spear.

Alfrigg clasped his spear with both hands, roaring as he poured all his strength into his arms as he continued to push forward but Nathan's sword held firm. It was night and day the difference in strength between the two first-class adventurers.

No matter how much primal strength Alfrigg conjured from his anger, it would never compare. Not to the pain and anger built up over a lifetime of suffering and hatred that had manifested itself on the half-elf's back, that had inscribed itself on his battered and bruised sole.

So as Nathan held the Prum with one of his swords, he raised his other one, making sure all those that were watching could see what was about to happen.

"VBOOM!"

Nathan's half-elf ears twitched. It was the sound barrier being shattered.

*ding*

Nathan's instinct went off just as an immense pain thundered into his shoulder. Nathan was thrown backwards into the side of the cliff. The half-elf was completely stunned at what just happened as he was left dazed. He turned his head to his left shoulder that had been ripped open. Blood spilled down from the wound that a certain silver spear had created.

Nathan had been impaled into the rock that had shattered under the power of his attacker. As the dust settled from his flight, he didn't need to know who had gotten in his way.

"What are you doing here?" Alfrigg managed to murmur through thick, fast breaths as he watched his vice-captain step past him. The cat-man ignored the Prum, his obsidian eyes narrowed on the half-elf he had speared.

Allen Frommel quickly observed the battlefield he had come across. The lifeless body of Berling next to the shredded corpse of Grer. In every direction, the ground was littered with unconscious bodies of his Familia and those that had opposed his lady. He wasn't sure who was dead and who was alive, apart from the two parts of Heith that lay apart from each other.

Allen only grimaced as he clicked his tongue as his attention was brought back to the half-elf. They should've listened to him and just killed the bastard when they had the chance. He had felt the immense pressure when Nathan had entered the battlefield and the only reason he hadn't immediately tracked down his target was because he had to deal with an annoying blonde-haired elf that had arrived late to the battle along with her Goddess. After pushing her back and leaving her with Ottar, he raced off to deal with the half-elf.

Vana Freya had already fought the boy once, during the harvest festival. Allen had recognised the boy's strength and speed to be that of a mid to high level 5 but the half-elf had somehow kept up and sometimes overpowered him when he was a high level 6. It was as annoying and frustrating as it was suspicious.

But now he knew where the boy's strength had come from. He had learnt by being next to his Goddess as she interrogated him while the boy was under the Goddess' charm. His past with Evilus and a Goddess named Hel. The look his lady had given when that name was uttered had stuck with Allen.

The anger was present during their last fight but not to this degree, nowhere near. Not even when he had threatened to kill his lady was the bloodlust comparable. That was where the boy's strength was.

Allen looked at his enemy, staring him in the eyes. The deranged look the boy gave as he continued to smile, all while his arm spasmed in agonising pain from the cat-man's spear. The feeling of dread that emanated from the person. No, Allen knew better. The thing in front of him was not a person but a monster.

The black tendrils that warped around his eyes as he caught glimpses of darkness flowing through the boy's exposed veins. Freya had described his soul as a grotesque image the likes she had never seen.

Coupled that with his ability to walk on air and some sort of skill that could read his every movement and attack, the creature that sat in front of him was one not to mess with. Something that belonged in the depths of the dungeon.

That was the conclusion Allen Frommel had come to, a monster that he was determined to destroy.

Alfrigg had somewhat managed to recover his lost sanity but as he saw his opponent strewn up against the cliff face, his one arm useless as his swords lay by his side. Alfrigg looked behind Allen and once more saw his fallen brothers.

His eyebrows furrowing as he growled like an animal, the prum darted towards the broken body, himself determined to finish what he had started. He closed the gap in a second and he thrusted his spear straight at the boy's heart.

"DIE!"

Leaving a crater of his own, Alfrigg thrashed wildly towards his soon-to-be victim, his spear readied to strike a lethal blow. His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned into a snarl as he roared towards the half-elf.

A clanging sound echoed. The sound of metal crashing into rock. Alfrigg gasped for air as his head rocked forward. He stared down, expecting to see his spear having gone through the half-elf's body and striking the rock behind him. His spear had connected with stone but it had missed, going under the half-elf's armpit. He then saw a pair of combined swords. One was facing away from him, while with the other one all he saw was the hilt.

Blood spilled from Alfrigg's mouth, landing on the half-elf's lap as he felt Nathan withdraw the sword from his body. His body went cold as he fell to the floor.

Allen watched this. He hadn't spoken up to stop the Prum. If he managed to kill the half-elf, then that meant less work for him. If he failed and died, like he had just done, Vana Freya didn't care, no one else mattered to him apart from his Goddess. What did disturb the cat-man was how Skias Alf did it.

All across Orario, the people and Gods once more looked on with horrified expressions. Riveria had turned away as the disgusting sound of flesh being ripped apart rang through the divine mirrors as Nathan dodged Alfrigg's attack.

Alfrigg had made sure to aim for the side Nathan would struggle to dodge from, making sure it was a definite kill, but that hadn't stopped the ex-Evilus member. It was almost as if it was a simple act, like it was a normal decision.

All the half-elf did was look to his left, saw the blood spill out from where his arm should be, turn around and looked at his dismembered limb that hung to the wall with Allen's spear still lodged into the shoulder blade. And then he laughed.

"BHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!"

"Fucking psychopath," Allen spat as he picked up Grer's greatsword, ready for the rematch. This time, he would make sure it was life or death.

Let the War Game truly commence.

Bringar is dead, next is Vana Freya, the most viscious Adventurer versus the deadliest.

Reviews:

arya - Hestia will have her way with Freya

NinjaFang1331 - He did not help her. How could he when all he knows is death.

alex882 - Glad you enjoyed Riveria's bringing down Folkvangr, I also enjoyed it. As for Freya, she has begun to suffer.

Guest - Errm, why would I acknowledge Loki Familia having any connection to Bell's mothers death, is this the right review for this story. The canon story hasn't even reached that. As for dick riding the Loki Familia, pretty sure I've been kicking them down with how they acted high and mighty like heroes even with how their actions condemned thousands to a slow death.

LegacySpellsword - Nathan's new magic will be revealed in the next chapter pretty much guarantted. As for what it will look like, I'm not sure if I can compare it to something.

FL27 - Apologies, life happens I guess but here you go, another cliffhanger, mwhuahahaha.

Guest (2) - She has shown up off screen but she will be vital in the war game.

As always thanks for reading, I'll see ya next time, Peace!