Mars' gladius cuts air, whistling in front of Beowulf's face.
The epic hero attempts to slash, an upward attack aiming at Mars' left armpit, but it fails.
Mars, without looking, whips his body to the right, slamming his shin to the mortal's arm and redirecting the attack.
Swift as he is, Mars is quick to spin back to action, leaping and delivering a slash from above.
Beowulf sees this, ducking and rolling to the side.
The attack still struck, or, its aftermath did.
The arena shook as Mars' lands, his gladius not merely cutting the ground but slamming onto it with force enough to send Beowulf stumbling to the side.
The Roman god growls, teeth gritted into a grin, his eyes already back to Beowulf.
Mars leaves his spot, speeding towards the recovering Beowulf.
The latter feels the god's presence, making him grin as he spun around, sword ready to intercept an attack.
Mars' slams his gladius onto Beowulf's shortsword, locking them, making the warrior's eyes widen in surprise.
Leveraging from the moment, Mars pulls his gladius, bringing Beowulf forward who held strongly to his weapon.
Mars sends his knee onto his foe's abdomen, stealing air from Beowulf's lungs.
Glaring at Beowulf, Mars pulls once more, releasing the lock of their weapons before kicking the mortal in the torso, sending him away.
The Roman god spits on the ground, cracking his neck as he walks towards Beowulf, circling him after eyeing him.
Beowulf stabs his shortsword into the ground, still grinning despite his situation.
He looks up, and down to the ground he goes once again.
Mars has slammed his shin onto Beowulf's head, sending the man to the side and burying his face to the sand of the arena.
The epic hero rolls with the force, sending himself up and performing a cartwheel to land upright, or as upright as he can at the moment.
The Roman god intercepts swiftly, already pushing the tip of his gladius forward and ready to meet Beowulf's torso midair.
Beowulf teeth gleam, grinning widely as he moves his shortsword in front of his chest, striking the gladius by the guard.
The attack sends Mars' weapon to the ground, imbedding itself to the sand, but the Roman god allows himself to be carried by the force.
The god flips forward, hands on the gladius and his heels digging into Beowulf's face.
Mars kicks the mortal off midair, sending him tumbling down while the god flips back, eyes locked on Beowulf, a grin present.
"Is this all the great Beowulf can offer?" Mars grins, before scowling and growling. "Or will you drop the act and start fucking fighting me seriously?!"
The words fell on Beowulf's ears, making him chuckle as he pushes him body up.
The man looks at the seething god of war, his eyes as red as the leaking blood from his nose and mouth.
"I am merely gauging what I'm working with here," Beowulf remained grinning, wiping the blood with his sleeves.
"Fuck off with that shit!" Mars snarls.
Beowulf raises his shield as Mars slams his gladius onto his arm, denting the shield with relative ease and minimum effort.
The man skids back, planting his feet firmly into the ground in order to slow down, but his opponent grabs his arm.
Mars yanks the arm towards him, attempting to dislocate and break it while his gladius is ready to pierce Beowulf's skull.
The epic hero merely grins at this, letting his body be dragged by Mars, using the momentum to swing himself to the god's back.
Beowulf's own hand grips Mars', ultimately raising the god and attempting to slam him towards his shortsword.
Beowulf's weapon breaks as Mars spun his body, smashing his gladius against the shortsword and shattering it to pieces.
"Not like it can hurt you," Beowulf laughs, staggering back and releasing Mars. Then, he changes his stance, arms wide and legs apart, his head hanging low. "Alright then, good old fashioned brawl it is!"
"Stop holding back, damn it!" Mars sneers, charging at the hero. "Fight like a warrior! Fight like a soldier! I've had enough of fuckers not taking me on seriously!"
At that, the man did not answer, merely eyeing Mars with a grin.
The god sees this, making him seethe, his blood boiling.
"Fine, die a fucking coward!" Mars roars.
Beowulf's eyes widen in surprise as Mars vanishes from his vision, reaching speeds foreign to the hero.
Beowulf grunts, his body now littered with slashes, staining the sand with scarlet. The pain, akin to a thousand wasps stings spreading through his skin.
Blood leaks, dripping down his body and mouth.
...
Within humanity's booth, Valkyries stand near the railings.
"W-why is he not fighting back?" Göll regards the arena with only one eye open, her face covered by her hands, afraid of the unfolding scene. "B-Beowulf is taking too much damage! W-will sister Thrúd's power be enough?"
"You worry too much, Göll," Brunhilde hums, a small smile present. "Be like Beowulf, he trusts our sister's capabilities with all of his heart and life."
"To Beowulf, it doesn't matter how fast Thrúd can provide healing. The mere fact that she can slowly heal him is enough for him to take it slow and measure up Mars," Freya hums, fingers drumming on the stone railings. "Partner it with the strength she provides, they make a great duo."
"And are you aware that Beowulf prior to death has strength close to deities?" Brunhilde chuckles, amused by Göll's confused expression, and the snot she wipes with her sleeves. "He brought down an ancient dragon with nothing but a sword. That alone speaks volumes of his strength."
"That's not even considering he brought down two Unyielding," Freya hums, eyes glued on the fight below. "Thor struggles to defeat one, and that's something else to say. I've never seen deities defeat Unyieldings, me included. Their sheer tenacity and strength render most foes defeated."
"What's an Unyielding anyway?" Göll asks, rubbing the tears from her eyes.
"Grendel's species," Freya answers. "Creatures of darkness, born from the scene of the first ever murder in humankind — the product of Cain's doings," she pauses, glancing at Göll. "They're strong, terrifyingly so, being creatures with such origins. Deities tend to avoid them as they can rip us apart if provoked."
"And Beowulf slew two of them," Brunhilde smiles darkly, a hand caressing her cheek. "You can say... Mars is fucked in different angles," she giggles, a sadistic hint lacing her tone.
"So, don't worry, Göll. I know that me and Brunhilde sound like broken records, but trust in Beowulf and Thrúd," Freya grins, mirroring Beowulf.
"That pair will do anything but back down."
...
"Woooooooooow, he can actually fight," Loki claps his hands, sitting beside Odin's chair, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"He is a Roman god, of course he can fight," Jupiter grunts. "He can fight better than any of us here combined, and that is no lie," he adds, his tone proud like a father would be with his son.
"He gets beaten by most of us," Susanoo says without care, cleaning his ears with his pinky fingers. "Seeing him going against Beowulf and actually starting to get the advantage is surprising."
"That's not all he can do."
Most deities stare at Thor, hearing him speak for the first time since he arrived.
"He's stronger than this," Thor says simply, looking at the fight below with narrowed eyes.
"Mars? Strong?! What?!"
"How?! He can barely scratch most opponents!"
Huginn and Muninn scream from Odin's shoulders.
"He does not hunger for the validation of those he deems unworthy of it," Jupiter speaks with his thundering tone. "If you defeat him with ease, you are not worth his time."
The Roman chief eyes the fight with a small smirk.
"Mars may be limited to only physicality, but he finds ways to grow even with that disadvantage," Jupiter goes on, arms crossing.
"He hides a lot of things from most, and he will make use of them at this moment."
...
Mars' gladius bathes in Beowulf's blood, his grip tightening to the point of shaking. His expression shifts to a wrathful one, his features contorting to an ugly one as he watches Beowulf's situation, mainly his face.
The man keeps on grinning.
His head may be hanging low, but Mars sees the grin, teeth bloodied but still gleaming.
"Are you done playing?" Mars growls, flicking the blood off his gladius.
The eyes of Beowulf's bear pelt — Thrúd — glows a faint blue hue. The Roman god watches as Beowulf's wounds slowly mend themselves, stopping the flow of blood.
"I don't know, you tell me!" Beowulf laughs, fixing his posture and returning to his wide stance. "How about you? Are you done playing?" He grins, but his eyes challenge his opponent.
"You're not as worthy as I thought you'd be. This is growing to be a fucking disappointment," Mars snarls, launching himself towards Beowulf. "Just die if you're not going to fight!"
Mars ducks low, blade ready to swing at Beowulf's abdomen — ready to kill.
The Roman god stops in his tracks, having swung already. His arms, caught by Beowulf, creak as the man's grip tightens around them.
The god of war looks up to see Beowulf's face is now under the bear pelt, hiding its features.
Only the grin is present, accompanied by the eerie glow of the bear's eyes.
"Don't worry, I won't ruin your fun," Beowulf chuckles before rearing his head back.
"I'm going to tear the fucking grin off your face-"
Mars was not able to finish as Beowulf bashed his forehead against Mars' face before pulling back and delivering another.
By the fourth time, Mars' nose leaks blood and his lips are busted, the ground around them caving in ever so slightly with every strike.
Having enough, Mars rears his head back and meets Beowulf's, staggering the man by a moment.
Capitalizing on the moment, Mars forces his arms out of Beowulf's grip, pulling them back with force, and threatening to slash at the mortal's arm at the same time.
"Is this how you fucking defeated an Unyielding?! Bashing your head against it?! Fucking pathetic!" Mars sneers, rushing towards his foe.
"Good one!" Beowulf laughs, having recovered as swiftly as possible.
"Enough with your laughing! You're starting to piss me off!" Mars shouts, gladius swinging from the left.
"You want it to stop?! Make me!" Beowulf lets out a louder one, stepping back to dodge.
Mars sees this, and after he misses, he goes low, sweeping Beowulf's legs with a low sweeping kick, sending the mortal down.
While Beowulf recovers, Mars rises and swings down his gladius, a deadly arc aiming to decapitate the warrior, but the epic hero sees it.
Twisting his body sideways, the blade barely grazes his chest, nicking a bit of leather in the process before Beowulf launches himself forward, ramming his shoulders against Mars' ribs.
A flicker surprise comes to Mars' eyes, soon replaced by joy as he begins grinning as well.
"That's more fucking like it!" Mars laughs, having been sent flying back by a few meters, landing on his two feet which still caused him to skid back. "Give me your best fucking shot! Give me all of them!" He twirls his gladius, ready for more.
Mars blurs once more, appearing beside Beowulf in an attempt to slash his torso open.
Beowulf's hands prove to be akin to iron as he snatches the god's arm, lifting him and slamming him to the ground, a thundering sound echoing as the ground cracks.
"I won't do it unless you do it as well!" Beowulf laughs, picking Mars up once more and ready to pulverize the ground with him.
The man lets go of Mars — the Roman god having stabbed his arm with a smaller knife hidden in his armor.
"Argh! Good one!" Beowulf grins, complimenting Mars who scowls.
"Insults go unpunished!" The Roman god growls, charging at the man.
"Insults? I was complimenting you-"
The god of war roars a battle cry, gladius ready to slash.
Beowulf anticipates the slash, but was taken aback as Mars' shoulder rams against his abdomen, sending him back and forcefully expelling air from his lungs.
Mars follows up, feinting another slash, but this time, Beowulf readies himself.
What he was not ready for is Mars slamming his foot on the ground, shaking the arena as the ground breaks around Beowulf.
The man stumbles as the tremors permeate for a few seconds, removing the small knife in his arm in the process of it.
"Die!" Mars roars from above, his body a shadow to Beowulf as the burning sun blinds the man.
Beowulf cares little, grinning as he jumps towards Mars, slamming his arm to the god's abdomen.
"You'll find that hard to do!" Beowulf laughs, maneuvering behind the god and locking Mars in his arms as they start descending. "But, nice try!"
Mars growls at the compliment, feeling insulted by it.
Reversing his grip on his gladius, the god begins stabbing Beowulf's side, enough to make the man cough out blood, splattering it on Mars' shoulders.
Despite all of it, the man remains grinning, and Mars can feel it, making his soul and blood burn with fury.
The two struck the ground, with Beowulf drilling Mars' into the ground, sending chunks of debris and forming clouds of dust.
The epic hero swiftly recovers, his bear pelt's eyes glowing faintly once again as his wounds stitch themselves as fast as Thrúd can.
"I've had enough of your insults!" Mars comes from the dust clouds
"I am not insulting-"
"Take this fucking seriously, damn you, mortal!" Mars spits with rage.
The god appears from the right of Beowulf, gladius swinging from above with ferocity that made the man's eyes widen in shock. The hero can feel it — he can feel the slash roaring, its fury akin to Mars'.
The mortal has no choice but to try and dodge as swiftly as he can, sending his body to the right in a split second decision.
Beowulf's ears are flooded by a haunting ring as the sound barrier and space convulse, rippling and broken by the might of Mars' attack.
"Folks!" Heimdall's voice resonates once more, watching the scene with twinkling eyes. "Mars has successfully sliced the entire colosseum in half! Vertically!"
...
Ecgtheow, father of Beowulf regards the scene in front of him without a shred of doubt in his son's abilities. His arms, crossed, his face plastered with a smug grin, his white flowing hair blown back by Mars' attack.
"This god is dying," Ecgtheow chuckles darkly. "If he keeps this up, he'll be burning in Hell in no time. My son will render him defeated. He's too much of a hero to let that god win."
Then, he sees Beowulf standing up, Mars already alert.
"He goes down, he will never stay down. He's more stubborn than his old man," the father grins, watching the fight continue. "I just wish I was there when you were king of our land, son. It would have been a great time to live."
...
"Boo! Die already, you stupid Roman god!" A girl in a gray hoodie and black shorts screams at the television. "Get your ass out of there already! Your existence is already a sinful act, and that's coming from me, out of all people!"
The girl, bearing red skin and a short stature, grows horns on her forehead which curves upwards, similar to those of goats. Black bobcut hair sits comfortably on her head, darkened eyes with yellow irises present.
"Lapu! Fight already! It's about damn time I see a fucker that gives their best at the very start!" The girl screams, hands to the sides and balled into fists as she faces the window of her home.
"Heh, you know that he will not respond to you, right? He's too busy fighting Leviathan right now." Lucifer chuckles from the couch, watching his daughter flip him off. "That's not very nice."
"We're not nice, dad," Sin grumbles, kicking the divider hosting the television. "And these two damned ass-eating edge-loving sons of imps are not even fighting seriously!" She gestures to the television. "I mean, come on! It's Beowulf and Mars! I want to see them go at each other's throats!"
"They've been doing that for the last two minutes, Sin," Satan yawns, crossing his legs as he stares at the television. "Sure, they are not fighting at their full potential, but the two are just waiting for one another. Isn't that romantic?"
"That's the fucking problem! They are battle hardened sons of imps and yet they hold back! Like, why?!" Sin whines, sitting beside Satan, arms crossed, her feet stomping repeatedly on the floor. "You said that this was going to be a great fight, dad! So far, it's a straight up burning heap of garbage!"
"Meh, you'll live," Satan grins as Sin bangs her head onto his arm. "Besides, Beowulf needs to conserve his energy. That's why he is playing the reaction type rather than the initiative type. There's still a limit to how much Thrúd can heal him."
"Then he should just finish the battle swiftly before that happens!" Sin pouts, literal steam rising from her head.
"And risk dying?" Satan raised an eyebrow, amused at his daughter's thinking process. "Beowulf anticipates a lot of hidden cards from our calm god of war here. Our high-on-life hero is just not risking and betting all of his chances in one action that has a very high chance of being a fuck up," he smirks at his daughter. "Do you catch what I'm saying here?"
Sin does not answer yet, jutting out her lower lip before blowing air through it. She looks at Satan with a small glare, teeth bared, showing her fangs.
"Ugh, fine! I'll wait until they fight like real fucking men," Sin grumbles, slumping on the couch with a pout. "Clearly, I have more balls than both of them combined."
"You sure do," Satan chuckles, leaning back and snaking an arm around Sin's shoulders. "You sure do, my little devil."
"Shut up."
"Nah."
...
'Mars is slowly finding the mortal worthy,' Jupiter hums within his mind, arms still crossed. 'But his personalities are clashing. He needs to reign them back in. He should focus on his rage to avoid letting multiple personalities leak.'
Still, the Roman chief watched with an aura of pride, a small smirk forming on his face.
"That mortal is dying, surely," Jupiter hums, confidence lacing his tone. "Mars is not even using all of his capabilities and the mortal is already at his toes."
"You know, you should be more vocal from now on," Amaterasu giggles, not even looking at Jupiter. "You are adorable when you are a proud parent."
At that, Jupiter remains silent.
"Your child lacks finesse, but he carries all of his attacks with conviction and ferocity. He doesn't doubt each strike," the Jade Emperor hums, chuckling as he strokes his beard. "It is a great trait to have."
"He is a warrior at heart and soul," Jupiter nods. "Of course he will have such a trait. He represents war, after all."
Jupiter pauses, eyeing the escalating battle below.
"And here, he will bring war..."
...
As the arena drifts apart, separating Beowulf and Mars, the god whips his body around to face Beowulf.
The man jumped from his side, tackling Mars, grabbing him by the abdomen before lifting him and slamming his body with a grin.
Upon impact, the ground caves in ever so slightly.
"Let's match your flare! Is that quite fine to you?!" Beowulf laughs, letting go of Mars.
The man raises his hands and forms fists, bringing down to pound the god deeper to the ground.
Mars pushes himself off the ground, hands planted firmly over shoulders as he kicks his body up.
His feet meet Beowulf's jaw, the sound of cracking bones filling both fighters' ears.
Beowulf stumbles back, a hand over his face as his jaw hangs, broken and dislocated.
Mars lands on his feet, having flipped back after breaking his foe's jaw.
"Can't fucking grin now, can you?!" Mars sneers, planting his foot to the ground before kicking.
The god blurs but Beowulf has adapted to his speed by now.
The once foreign speed seems to appear as normal to the hero.
Beowulf grabs his jaw, broken as it is, before pushing it back to its rightful place with a sickening crunch accompanied by Thrúd's healing that slowly mended it back.
The man spits out a tooth, but Mars growls, the grin on Beowulf's face returning as the god of war reaches an arm's distance.
The god's golden eyes widen, legs buckling, as Beowulf's right fist digs onto his guts before twisting counterclockwise.
The sand around them is blown away by the force, the raw strength of the attack being enough to create a small crater.
Mars grunts, but a wild grin finds its way onto his face as his left hand clamps on Beowulf's arm, his right swinging his blade in a severing arc.
Seeing it, Beowulf laughs, stepping forward and breaking the ground with his movement.
"Ha! I don't think so!" The man exclaims, driving his fist forward which rattles Mars.
The god feels his insides turn as Beowulf drives his fist deeper onto his abdomen, feeling his center of gravity shift before his back meets the ground with earth-shattering force.
Force, enough to bring down the half of the arena they are on by a few meters.
Beowulf forces Mars to let go of his arm, the impact of his attack enough to make the god bounce back.
The man slams both fists in a hammering motion onto Mars' chest, his action faster than before, imbedding the god onto the caving ground.
"Give me more!" Mars coughs out blood, feeling his bones creak as he receives each of Beowulf's strikes. "This is hardly enough!" He cackles, a joyous tone now present.
Beowulf merely laughs, preparing to perform the same attack which fails.
Mars kicks his legs, sending him off balance, his face landing on Mars' knees before the god kicks his head, sending his body barreling away.
The god regains his footing, gladius on the ready, eyes scanning the arena. He just noticed, they are currently on the edge, just beside the other half of the arena.
And Beowulf is already gone from his prior position.
His gladius swings upwards as he whips his body to face the opposite direction, slashing at Beowulf's body, from the right hip to the left shoulder.
Mars bathes in Beowulf's blood as the wound opens, the man having jumped with both fists raised, the same grim unwavering despite the damage done to his body.
Seeing this, Mars takes a step back, attempting to dodge.
Beowulf's fists slam in front of him, shaking the arena and sending it down a couple more meters.
The god stumbles for a moment due to the tremors, giving Beowulf plenty of time to look at him before pouncing, the eyes of the bear pelt glowing and looking directly at Mars.
"Pummel his face, Beowulf!" The man grins, a gesture that Thrúd mirrors from beside him as his wound starts closing.
"The fire of your life, Mars..." Beowulf begins as his head strikes Mars' chest. "It is wild and strong! Blazing! An inferno!"
The epic hero laughs, seeing Mars' body fly from the impact. He was not finished though, grabbing the god's ankles mid-flight.
"But know this!" He swings his body to the side, bringing Mars along with him. "Mine and Thrúd's will vanquish yours, for our flames shall not flicker the slightest!"
With that, Beowulf manhandles Mars and slams him to the flat cut of the higher half of the arena with enough power to move it a few inches.
Not wasting any time, Beowulf runs forward, grabbing Mars' by the neck and dragging him across the flat side, ripping off chunks of stone and materials.
Mars' body bends unnaturally, heels kicking the back of Beowulf's head, halting the assault before freeing himself.
The god makes distance, a good five meters away but nearer to a pitfall at the edge of the arena. Mars spits out a tooth, a bloody grin present on his face.
The god of war watches as Beowulf rises once more, cracking his neck.
"Too bad good things end," Mars chuckles, blurring out of Beowulf's vision.
"Yes, you will end," Beowulf laughs.
With pure physical strength the same as the attack that split the arena, Mars swings from below Beowulf, his gladius following a lethal upward motion.
The air vibrates and the space ripples in fear of being destroyed.
Mars' golden eyes widen in shock.
"Two fighters are destroying the arena!" Heimdall shouts with glee. "And Mars was about to deliver the same attack, but Beowulf stopped it! He caught the attack with his two bare hands! Truly, he is a mortal that can wrestle with the divines!"
Beowulf grins, the gladius stuck between his palms, earning him a wrathful look from Mars.
The audience's cheers would drown whatever curses Mars would throw at him.
{•===To Be Continued===•}
Yes, Beowulf has eye powers because of Adam. He can see the flames of life, which is basically the fire that signals that someone has life or a soul. He has never seen his own, but Thrúd's is strong, comparable to Mars'.
What do you all think of the chapter? Comments feed the flame of writing within me!
See you all in the next chapter! Some backstory details in them!