Felix's mouth hung open in a perfect "O," his throat dry and mind blank as he tried to process what he'd just witnessed. He wanted to say something, anything, but words seemed to stick in his throat, trapped between disbelief and awe.
He was sure everyone else felt the same.
Just seconds ago, the sky had been choked with thunderclouds, and a monstrous tornado had been tearing through the battlefield, unleashing nature's fury as if the world itself was ending. And then, in one breathtaking moment, Thor's hammer struck, lightning split the heavens—and suddenly, the sky was clear.
Sure, they'd all seen these heroes defy physics and logic a hundred times, flying through the air and shaking the earth. But even for them, this was outrageous.
Felix was still struggling to wrap his mind around it. This guy with the blond hair, armor that looked plucked from some ancient legend, wielding a hammer like it was some ancient relic—how was he strong enough to pull off something like that? Felix wasn't even sure what he'd seen made sense, but here it was, in front of him.
It was as if technology had been tossed aside and they were witnessing something...divine.
"...Boss?" a voice whispered in Felix's head, snapping him out of his daze. It was Shadow, speaking telepathically.
Felix barely managed to pull his gaze away from where the tornado had been and the spot where Ophelia had been reduced to ashes. He swallowed hard, replying in a hollow voice, "Yes?"
"Let's just make sure we never mess with that guy."
"...For once, I think we're all on the same page."
Felix glanced around and saw that everyone else was just as stunned. Especially Leila, the last of the ancients. Her expression held a shock and disbelief that went even deeper than theirs.
How had she been destroyed so quickly? Or, he supposed, it wasn't accurate to say she'd been taken down with a single blow. After Ophelia had been flung skyward, Thor had kept her under a barrage of thunderous attacks, peeling away her defenses bit by bit. It wasn't a clean, one-hit knockout; it was a brutal, relentless takedown.
Ophelia might have been an ancient with unbelievable resilience, but Thor's attacks were steady, unyielding, and designed to obliterate everything in their path until she had nothing left. In the end, it looked like a single, final blow had taken her out, but that last strike was just the crescendo.
The part that Felix found almost laughable was that, despite the sheer power of it all, Thor didn't even look like he'd broken a sweat.
And part of the storm, Felix realized, wasn't even Thor's power—it was Ophelia's own storm turned against her. Thor's divine authority simply outranked hers, overpowering and amplifying her storm until it swallowed her whole.
From everyone's perspective, this wasn't just power; it was a display of godlike authority. And as they looked at him now, they couldn't help but feel they were in the presence of something more than human.
Charlie himself was probably a little surprised by how epic the final blow had turned out. He knew that this moment, this single strike, would likely be remembered by everyone watching.
The rest of the group, though, wasn't privy to all these nuances. All they saw was a figure descending, wrapped in his cape, looking every bit a god.
When Thor touched down, Leila had already reverted to her small, almost childlike form, sitting quietly, wide-eyed and obedient. She didn't move a muscle, looking as if the slightest breath might bring his wrath upon her.
The truth was, at that moment, she had a single, stark realization: waking up might have been a terrible mistake.
This world was far more dangerous than she'd imagined, and she had no idea which fool had decided to bring them back, who had such a grudge against her kind that they'd subjected her to this nightmare.
"Magnificent battle!" Thor's voice boomed, his tone ringing with celebration. "Now is the time to savor our victory. Rejoice, warriors! We triumphed together!"
The group exchanged glances, half-bewildered.
"Together?" they thought, almost in unison. "We didn't do anything! You're the one who went on a godly rampage!"
Charlie, meanwhile, knew Thor's character had shifted since Thor: Ragnarok. He'd become a lovable, powerful powerhouse—but also a bit of a goof when he got chatty.
To spare the group further awkwardness, Charlie sent Thor flying skyward with a quick command. The hammer spun like a windmill, kicking up dust and stones as he blasted off, vanishing in seconds.
For a long moment, the group just stared at the empty sky. Then, one by one, they looked over at Larry Wade, their resident electricity expert, who looked both tired and more than a little miffed.
Larry sighed, shoulders slumping. "What? You're all looking at me like you expect me to pull that off too. Don't hold your breath!"
And with that, the threat of the ancients came to an end.
Laitos was defeated, and the last remnants of Ophelia's forces had been either subdued or destroyed. Their resurrection in modern times was finished, and it seemed they were ready to return to the dust from which they'd come.
But their defeat wasn't total.
A fragment of the Tith shield seeped into the earth, slipping into the underground plumbing system. It drifted along with the water, devoid of any detectable energy, just a piece of debris moving unnoticed through the pipes until it spilled into the river.
It floated aimlessly, carried by the current, its presence lost to time and distance. But then, after an unknown length of time, something began to stir. Slowly, particles began to coalesce, pulling together into a single fragment.
A single eye opened, blinking against the dark, murky water, looking around as if waking from a deep sleep.
Eventually, a hand reached up from the water, grasping the riverbank.
A battered, barely recognizable figure dragged itself onto the shore, collapsing in exhaustion. Water poured off its broken form, pooling on the ground as it lay still, gasping.
It was Usak, one of the last remaining ancients.
He lay on his back, breathing heavily, waiting for his body to heal itself.
By all rights, he should have been dead.
For a being as ancient as Usak, death was a vague concept, hardly something they feared or even understood. But he'd been certain his energy had been drained by Ophelia, that he had willingly let her absorb him, giving up everything so she could reach her final form.
Yet here he was.
There could only be one explanation.
Ophelia had left a sliver of him behind. She'd absorbed nearly everything, but she had spared a fragment of his consciousness, just enough for him to survive.
Maybe she'd known, deep down, that even her perfected form wouldn't be enough. Perhaps that's why she'd sent his essence into the Tith shield as a last resort before the battle began.
So Usak had survived.
He was the last ancient, besides Leila.
He lay there on the riverbank, lost in thought.
He didn't know why Ophelia had shown him mercy, nor did he understand what had driven her to give him this last chance.
But she was gone, and he remained.
This had never happened before. Not in any cycle he could remember.
For the first time, he was free.
Usak opened his eyes, pushing himself up with a groan. He staggered to his feet, barely able to keep his balance, and took one last look at the river before limping away, disappearing into the shadows of an uncertain future.
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Read up to chapter 340 on p@treon (P@treon.com/OneSword)