The magic greatsword shattered under the sheer force of power, and a flicker of disbelief finally appeared in Hela's eyes. Since her debut, no one had ever survived her magical combination attacks, yet here Beckett was, having done just that.
Her ink-black hair whipped wildly in the fierce wind, but Hela's condition was far from the effortless grace of her hair.
Her body was practically drained by three forbidden-level spells.
Since her debut, she had only used magic a handful of times. In most situations, she could rely on her own formidable combat prowess to crush her opponents.
Hela, capable of creating an endless supply of weapons that moved at her will, was a devastating weapon in large-scale warfare. It was precisely for this reason that as Hela grew older, her training focused more on awakening her divine nature and the inherent divine power of the Asgardians. She hadn't delved too deeply into the magic taught by her mother.
"You lost, Hela Odinsdottir." Beckett, who had broken through the barrier between life and death with a single punch, descended from the sky and landed in front of Hela. Behind him lay fragments of golden light scattered on the ground.
Those were the shards of the Golden Greatsword.
The silver breastplate on his chest, still intact, shimmered with a dazzling radiance in the setting sun. Beckett extended his right hand and seized Hela by the throat.
"Rejoice! The great descendant of the Titans, the Son of Thanos, the young His Highness Beckett has successfully defeated the daughter of Odin from Asgard! This is undoubtedly a battle for the history books!"
The sycophantic voice of The Other chimed in at the opportune moment, interrupting the stare-down between Beckett and Hela.
The Other, still holding his scepter and having just gotten up from the ground, was showering Beckett with praise. He was abruptly met with two icy glares, causing him to momentarily falter, unsure of what to say.
Did I mess up my congratulatory speech?
The Other's mind raced, contemplating whether he should read more books upon his return to enrich his vocabulary. After all, repeatedly saying "Rejoice" did seem a bit uncultured.
"Do you always live surrounded by such praise?" Hela, with Beckett's hand gripping her throat, showed no fear. Instead, she displayed considerable interest in The Other's flattery of Beckett.
Although this subordinate seemed rather ostentatious, once one accepted this self-aggrandizing persona, it actually felt surprisingly engaging.
"You don't seem to have a clear grasp of your situation." Beckett ignored The Other, who was still holding his scepter aloft and listing Beckett's past glories. His icy gaze returned to Hela's face. He tightened his grip on her throat, and Hela's face showed a timely expression of pain.
"Beckett, that's your name, right?" Hela's breathing grew more labored, her outward appearance betraying her struggle.
"Now, I can confirm that Thanos never taught you how to deal with an Asgardian mage."
The look of pain on Hela's face vanished abruptly, replaced by an unnatural smile. Beckett frowned, and before he could ponder the meaning of Hela's words, his body's instinct prompted him to dodge.
Several weapons made of magical metal whizzed past Beckett. The Hela in front of him had already turned into a dummy.
Sharp weapons pierced the limbs of the doll, pinning the deflating figure firmly onto the blood-soaked plain.
"Asgard's Doppelganger Magic is unlike the amateurish trickery found elsewhere."
"It's incredibly lifelike."
Hela's figure materialized to Beckett's front left. Her face was somewhat pale due to her depleted state, but this did not diminish her pride and self-satisfaction.
Outmatched in close combat, she was still a formidable ranged mage.
This was the advantage of being proficient in both magic and combat.
Seeing that Hela had clearly escaped the predicament, The Other, who had just finished singing Beckett's praises, instantly abandoned any thought of going to Beckett's side. He quietly stayed with the Chitauri army, which had already lost more than half its strength, and observed the situation.
"A tedious trick."
Beckett glanced at the doll, now stained with blood, a hint of disdain creeping into the corner of his eye.
In the face of absolute power, all flashy maneuvers were merely paper tigers.
"How many more times can your body sustain this so-called magic?" For Beckett, Hela's dire physical condition was already obvious.
"It's enough to last until you fall, no problem." Despite her poor physical state, Hela still believed Beckett was in worse condition than herself.
Her arms had two holes from magic arrows, her internal organs had been compressed by the Crystal Wall, and then there was that punch that had directly countered the Judgment Holy Sword. Hela didn't believe Beckett could emerge unscathed from this series of events.
"I appreciate your confidence. The enemies I've faced before, at this point, have invariably prostrated themselves at my feet, begging for their lives." Beckett narrowed his eyes and walked step by step towards Hela.
He had survived being nearly stabbed to death at the age of seven, so these current injuries were, at most, moderately significant.
For Beckett, as long as he wasn't dead, the problem wasn't too serious. At worst, he could return to the battleship and soak in the Fountain of Life, and all his troubles would be solved.
"Really? What a coincidence, I've also killed many arrogant fools on the battlefield who thought they had victory in their grasp, just like you."
Hela raised her hand, and dozens of weapons instantly materialized around her, their points aimed at Beckett.
As for Hela, her injuries were not a major issue. She could recover within two days in Asgard, and her strength might even be amplified by Asgard's power.
Fight! Fight! Fight!
The Other, having already sung a hymn of praise for Beckett once, clearly sided with him. The azure scepter in his hand faintly glowed. The Other, who didn't consider his unintelligent kin as fellow beings, used his scepter to control a squad of Chitauri soldiers to launch a surprise attack.
Suddenly, he felt a chill...
No! How could this normally temperate plain be—
Sensing something was wrong, The Other was about to warn Beckett of the situation when his body was rapidly encased in ice, turning him and the Chitauri army behind him into ice sculptures under the setting sun.
The setting sun in the sky reflected dazzling, colorful light off the tens of thousands of ice crystals.
"Hela Odinsdottir, daughter of Odin. Killing you, I imagine Laufey would be quite pleased."
Large numbers of entirely blue giants slowly appeared on the horizon, dyed red by the setting sun. Having received the distress signal from the garrison, the Frost Giant reinforcements closest to them arrived at their destination at this moment.
Although a bit late, the garrison had been completely wiped out. However, he saw a lone, seemingly injured Hela, the daughter of Odin. As for the monkey with a tail beside Hela, he didn't recognize it and saw no need to.
They would kill it together; after all, it wasn't an ally.
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