Zemeta who had been knocked back by the blast rolled on the ground hitting Camilla with her body. She had been hurled to where the Scythian warrior lay as the woman laughed at her counterpart.
"How's it going?" Camilla asked with a chuckle.
"If I wasn't a god that blast would have torn me to pieces."
The two warriors stood to their feet away from the gods home awaiting their opponents arrival.
"Need an extra set of hands?" Leaning on a shattered column stood Senile whose armour and clothes had been burnt beyond recognition revealing his upper hulking body.
"What happened to you?" asks Zemeta in shock at seeing her brothers slowly healing wounds.
"Drake."
"He used the fire of creation?"
"Yep and it wasn't pretty."
She chuckled, zipping to meet him at the columns, "You do know you'll age by a thousand years because of that attack."
The god smiles at his siblings concern, "I'm an old god anyway. At least I'd get to take down one of these bastards before my time runs out, besides I'm immortal, I'll be this handsome hunk of a god forever."
Lady Camilla joins the two gods at the columns, "If the both of you are going to fight against this creature you will need something that can kill it."
"How do we kill that!?" the speedster yells. "If my speed and punches can't hurt it, then I doubt anything else will."
"Unless..." Senile suggested raising up a finger. "We can use our souls as a weapon similar to how Drake uses his flames of creation."
"You can't be serious."
"Camilla that's all we've got right now, trust me this should work," the god said walking away from the group.
"Who is going to be the channel?" Zemeta asked. "Cos last time I checked we don't have the kind of power the elder gods have, furthermore we need lots and lots of firepower to cause any kind of damage."
The god continues his slow pace away from the two warriors, his eyes fixed onto the ground like he was searching for something.
"What are you looking for?" the Scythian asks in concern.
"Your sword... nevermind, I've found something better!" he exclaims picking up a sword which had a shadowy form. "You know what is better than a sword made by the fairies and goblins?"
"No," the other two sighs in unison.
"A sword made by the elder gods themselves."
"Is that...?"
"Oh yes sister. This is the original sword of Archeron, not that fake the goblins created from the pits of the white mountains."
"Sword of Archeron?" the Scythian repeated. "Isn't it supposed to be a myth?"
Senile spread his arms around, "Look around you mortal, you're living in the impossible right now. Nothing is mythological or legendary anymore, only chaotic and crazy."
"True," she nodded in agreement. "What makes it different from the ones created by the goblins?"
"This sword is the strongest weapon in the arsenal of the gods," Zemeta explains with a look of relief written on her face. "Forged by Dromedipectus herself, she could channel dark powers from Archeron, the home of the demons, to the pantheon here and over to Earth destroying whatever stays in her way. It is as strong as its wielder. Mortals would vaporize by just looking at it, while demigods would die by touching it."
"Yeah, a very powerful tool indeed," Senile adds. "Your Scythian swords were forged from the same power which gives you warriors the powers of gods and its immortality as well."
"How come we haven't died or disappeared?"
"Because when Gagontae created your swords, she couldn't create this exact weapon so she made a replica of it. Its power outage was only about twenty percent similar to the original," he recounts waving the sword around like a prized possession. "Infact, the goblins created one similar to this but just like Gagontae created another fake. One of the Vampires, Reya used it to kill Drake on Earth. If that fake can kill an elder god, imagine what this one can do?"
"This could change the tide of battle for us," celebrates the goddess who had grown tired of losing.
"Yes, but it's still going to cost us dearly," the god hissed in reply.
"What is the cost?" the Scythian warrior inquires inquisitively.
"Whatever we hold dear to us would be stripped away leaving us without it for the rest of our lives," he answers dropping the sword back onto the ground. "We'll have to do without this kind of weapon. There has to be another way."
Just as they concluded their decision on the sword, a giant column crashed into Senile who stopped it with his hand, smashing the object to pieces with a stroke of his finger.
"Enough talk, let's finish this once and for all," Mindra arrives before the trio, her appearance now having a similar look to Drake.
"From the looks of things, that surge she released earlier must have weakened her for her to resort to such monstrous form," Senile noticed.
"What do you suggest we do?" Camilla asks, picking up an axe from a dead demigod.
"We defeat her and move on to help the others," Senile grunts with his fingers cracking together. He rolled his shoulder in readiness to the battle he was about to face, he was not going to be knocked out this time.