"Are you really sure this 'god' is in a place like this?" Diana asked, her expression one of mild disgust as she looked at the neatly arranged frozen pork in the slaughterhouse. She covered her nose, trying to shield herself from the overpowering stench.
She couldn't help but think that even at his lowest, Ares would never be in such a place.
"Miktrant Kutley is a death god who needs death to sustain himself," Dane explained as he threw a small ball of light. It hovered and illuminated the dim surroundings, casting a soft glow over the two of them. "Originally, the place most suited for him would be the primitive witch tribes."
He paused for a moment, his gaze scanning the slaughterhouse around them. "Death isn't just about dead bodies; it can only be produced through the full cycle from birth to death. His sacrifices require actual acts of murder—whether intentional or not."
Diana frowned, absorbing the explanation. "But the Aztecs are largely gone, right?"
Dane nodded. "Yes. There are no longer any true believers in this land, and without their living sacrifices, he can't regain the strength he needs. So now, he's resorting to places like this, where the amount of death is minimal, but enough to sustain his fading vitality."
The slaughter of pigs in the slaughterhouse is a clear act of sacrifice, complete with the full cycle of life from birth to death—just what the god of death needs to sustain his presence.
However, the energy produced by human death is different from that of animals. The god of death is likely at his weakest now.
Dane could sense where the death energy was strongest. Standing at that spot, he turned to Diana.
"I'm not great with the dark arts, so I'll just break in and cause some chaos for a while."
Diana smiled sassily. "Just what I was hoping for!"
Dane grinned, but his grew serious as he began the incantation:
"Mictrant Kutley, god of bones, gatekeeper of the realm, and the beginning of death, open your gates here."
Even in his diminished state, Mictrant Kutley, the god of death, resides in the space between life and death. Much like Rock of eternity, which exists outside time and space, his domain is not easily entered without his permission.
But the Aztec gods were not used to dealing with threats, mostly having fought among themselves during their civil wars.
So, when Mictrant Kutley heard Dane's incantation, his first thought was to wonder why he hadn't received an offering. The god's response was fast—a new, unfamiliar magic circle appeared beneath their feet, marking their presence. It seemed he had mistaken them for surviving believers.
Dane and Diana exchanged a look, both stifling laughter. This god certainly wasn't the brightest.
"What do we do now?" Diana asked, already ready for action, her armor in place.
Dane gave a short reply: "We go down and take him out!"
The moment he finished speaking, the magic circle cracked like brittle stone.
The floor tiles shattered, revealing a deep, black pit that led straight down. They didn't resist the pull of gravity and fell, landing in the abyss below. It didn't take long for them to spot a dim light source below.
With their keen vision, they saw piles of animal carcasses below. Dane took Diana's hand and flew her over the gruesome pile of dead bodies.
"The smell here is worse than above!" Diana grimaced, covering her nose. The stench of blood was overpowering, and though the bodies didn't rot, the air was thick with decay.
Dane scanned the area and noted that it resembled an altar, with the animal carcasses at the center, serving as sacrifices.
"How did you find me?" A deep, rumbling voice broke through the gloom.
In the darkness, a pair of yellow eyes glowed ominously. The creature was massive, towering above them. "How did you find me?" it repeated.
Dane looked back at Diana. "Ladies first?"
Diana lifted her chin with an air of confidence, drawing her Vulcan Sword with one hand while holding her round shield with the other.
Mictrant Kutley immediately recognized the divine presence. "Wait, you're not mortal!"
"I am Diana, daughter of Zeus, the King of the Gods. Fight me!" she declared proudly.
Mictrant Kutley, enraged by the challenge, snarled, "Damn heretic gods! Die!"
The god of death opened his mouth, and flames erupted, engulfing the area around them.
But the next moment, Diana's battle cry rang out, and she charged straight at the fire, her shield slamming into the god's face with brutal force, knocking him back.
Despite his towering form—over three meters tall—Mictrant Kutley was wiry and weak. The shield strike sent shockwaves through his bones, almost causing them to crack.
Diana, however, didn't immediately press the attack. As a proud Amazon warrior, she believed in fair combat. She wouldn't kill her opponent unarmed—that was slaughter, not a fight.
"Take out your weapons and fight me fairly!" she shouted.
Mictrant Kutley, now furious, materialized a rough obsidian spear, which he wielded with deadly intent.
Dane's eyes narrowed. He could feel a strong aura of death radiating from the spear, along with traces of divine power. The weapon was an artifact, infused with the power of the god itself.
Diana With a battle cry, she forward, her Vulcan Sword raised high, prepared for the fight of her life.
The Death god's combat skills were impressive. Despite his enormous size, he moved with surprising nimbleness. Diana, however, was a seasoned warrior, skilled in both strategy and combat.
The aura of death that gathered on the spear made Diana momentarily envious. However, she was confident in her shield, which remained impervious to the flames and dark energies. Despite the Death god's size advantage, Diana adapted quickly to his movements and began to turn the fight.
The Vulcan Sword gleamed, striking against the spear. Mictrant Kutley faltered, overwhelmed by her relentless assault. He tried to back away, but Diana's battlefield sense ensured she would never give him the chance to retreat.
Once again, her shield deflected his spear strike, and she made a move, severing one of his massive calves. The calf was fell like a weak branch under the power of her sword.
Losing his balance, the Death god instinctively used his spear as a crutch, trying to steady himself. Diana, ever vigilant, seized the opportunity. With a adjustment of her stance, she aimed her sword directly at his exposed eyes.
But Mictrant Kutley opened his mouth wide, unleashing a torrent of flames. Diana' ask with disappointment.
"You're going to use the same trick twice? Really?"
The Death god, taken aback, tried to retreat as Diana advanced, her shield holding firm against the flames. There was fear in his eyes as he realized how strong his opponent was.
As he prepared to strike, a flash of cold light caught his attention. He had no time to react before a sharp pain exploded in his jaw. The pain shot through his skull, a sensation that felt as though his very consciousness had been severed.
Dane would have agreed that it wasn't just a sensation; the Death god's life had been truly severed. Diana's Vulcan Sword had pierced Mictrant Kutley's skull, cutting through the jaw and striking directly at his heavenly spirit.
Now, the god of death was truly, and completely, dead.
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