Hela stared at Karl in front of her, convinced this kid was talking nonsense.
An ordinary sorcerer?
An ordinary sorcerer could have this kind of strength?
If that were true, she'd twist her own head off and kick it around like a ball.
This brat was definitely some old monster. Or maybe the reincarnation of some ancient god on Earth. Otherwise, how could someone this young possess such terrifying power?
Was this supposed to be a joke?
She had been a conqueror who waged war across the cosmos long, long ago. Trying to fool her?
Pure delusion.
Hela gave a cold laugh and flicked her hand. Two black longswords appeared in her grip again.
"Even in Asgard, your power would be enough to earn the title of a legendary warrior."
"But trash like you? I slaughtered countless of your kind thousands of years ago."
Her voice turned sharper, colder.
"Becoming a sword-dog and feeling proud of it instead of ashamed…"
"How twisted."
Karl shook his head.
"A sword-dog?"
"Would you apologize to an ant after you stepped on it?"
"And you still want to stand on the moral high ground and accuse me?"
"This universe runs on the law of the jungle."
"Only I have the right to conquer this world."
Hela spoke with absolute arrogance.
Karl's expression stayed calm. "If you're so strong, how did Odin seal you in here for tens of thousands of years?"
"I will kill—!"
A chill flashed through Hela's eyes.
Mjolnir manifested beside her.
In the next instant, Hela was already within half a meter of Karl. The black sword in her hand carried dense Death Energy as she drove it straight toward him.
Karl's reaction was just as fast.
He thrust the Magical Shield in his hand sideways, knocking her blade off-line. At the same time, he swung the shield hard—smashing it into her face twice and forcing her head to jerk aside.
The icy light in Hela's eyes intensified.
Now she was even more certain: this kid was no ordinary sorcerer. He had to be some old monster.
His combat instinct and battlefield awareness were far beyond what a normal person could have.
If he really were ordinary, how could he possess such shocking fighting skill?
Hela was inwardly astonished, but her attacks grew even more vicious.
She lifted her leg and stomped straight toward Karl's vital point.
If she landed that, Karl would be looking at a very literal disaster.
"So you're that ruthless."
Karl flashed to the side and avoided the strike cleanly.
"The Sacred Sword of the Vishanti!"
Without hesitation, Karl unleashed the strongest offensive spell he currently had.
A longsword blazing with platinum-white radiance formed in his grasp, and he swung it straight at her.
Hela raised her sword to block.
Szzzt!
Like a red-hot blade slicing through butter—
Hela's black longsword was cut cleanly in half by the platinum-white sword.
"What?!"
"Impossible!"
Hela's face changed.
She thrust the other sword forward, forcing Karl back, then instantly retreated—staring at him as if she'd seen something absurd.
Her Death Sword… had been severed?
That was a weapon forged by dwarves, refined from "Falling Star" metal, then nourished for years by her Death Energy.
It should have been among the hardest weapons in the universe.
Unbreakable. Unstoppable. Nothing could shatter it.
And yet…
It had been destroyed by a spell.
What kind of joke was this?
If magic were this strong, who would even need weapons? Everyone would just use magic.
Even if her Death Swords looked like endless regeneration—like magic itself—they were still weapons that could be cut.
So why could this brat sever her weapon with magic?
What kind of spell was that?
Was there really magic in this universe that could be this powerful?
Hela locked onto Karl, motionless for a moment, unable to immediately respond.
Karl, however, was completely composed.
The Sacred Sword of the Vishanti was an offensive spell to begin with. And under the impact amplification of his god-tier talent, the holy blade gained an additional effect—Truth Piercing.
Still…
Cutting Hela's weapon in a single swing surprised even Karl, and he couldn't help feeling a flicker of delight.
"Now then, Hela-san, let's continue."
"I assume you won't fear a fight."
As soon as he spoke, Karl surged forward.
The momentum reversed—Karl took the initiative.
Several Tao Mandalas floated at his side as protection.
In his hand, the Sacred Sword of the Vishanti slashed out again.
There was no fancy sword form. No theatrical technique like in the movies.
Just three words:
Fast. Precise. Ruthless.
And those three words drove Hela into a corner.
For a moment, Hela felt that aside from taking hits head-on, she had no other option.
No other reason—
Karl's attacks were simply too fast.
So fast that even with her defensive instincts, she could only barely keep up.
Her black sword stabbed out like a needle meeting a spear point.
With her other hand, she unleashed dark magic—
A bolt of black lightning cracked toward Karl, overflowing with a dense aura of death that made the air itself feel terrifying.
Karl didn't retreat in the slightest.
A golden Magical Shield hovering near him flicked forward with a casual slap, intercepting the black lightning.
The Sacred Sword of the Vishanti in his hand flared again—Burst!
Clang!
Their afterimages collided again and again.
With each collision, their weapons crashed together.
The sound of those impacts was so violent that the surrounding stone shattered into powder.
Before long, Hela was forced into the disadvantage.
Not because her strength or skill was lacking—
But because her weapon simply couldn't withstand Karl's magic.
Hela clenched her teeth, a bleak feeling rising in her chest.
Asgard's highest alchemical crystallization… the mighty Uru alloy…
And it still couldn't endure a single spell.
Looking at the jagged, saw-toothed ruin her sword had become, even Hela—who had seen everything—looked grim.
But Hela was Hela.
She abruptly pulled back, lifted her hand—
And a miserable green Death Energy wrapped around her blade.
Then she charged in again, continuing the fight.
Under the effect of Death Energy, Karl's Sacred Sword of the Vishanti began triggering and burning through the Death Energy itself, rather than striking the physical blade head-on.
For a time, Hela managed to hold her ground.
But in Hela's heart, this was humiliation.
When had she ever been forced into a situation like this?
"Damn mortal!"
"If I were in Asgard, I'd have already cut you down!"
Hela roared madly.
In Asgard, she had far more methods than this.
She was absolutely certain she could kill the disgusting man in front of her.
Karl replied calmly, "Too bad this isn't your home field."
(End of Chapter)
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