"They're here—" Zeus bellowed with divine speech, warning every Olympian.
Perhaps the World Tree's roots were only a physical barrier and didn't block energy like divine-voice transmissions that rode waves of god-force. Zeus's shout still rallied the Olympians, who had grown dejected after being split apart and isolated.
From the world's zenith, hundreds of rainbow lances streaked down, each one brimming with potent, unmistakably distinct divine might.
Whether they liked it or not, the Olympians had to meet them head-on.
Just then, the World Tree's roots changed again. Some Olympians, startled, realized their retreat was sealed—innumerable roots writhed behind them like a frenzy of serpents, forcing them either to stay put and fruitlessly grapple with the roots, or to be driven by them to burst out through that cleft overhead, clearly opened on purpose.
In such a situation, most proud gods would choose to fight.
Like Ares.
"Wait, Ares!" Hera had been separated from her two fine sons by the roots and couldn't follow behind Zeus. Ares was her biggest support—and of course the fool had a one-track mind, the quintessential "thrill of battle" type.
With a whoosh, he transformed into a meteor radiating gold-red light and shot up through the gap. Unsurprisingly, he saw a burly giant standing there.
"Hahahaha! Tyr, I knew it was you!" Ares's greatest flaw was having no sense of his own limits.
Well, that was also his greatest strength.
Ignorance can be fearlessness.
Anyway, Ares's peanut-sized brain never remembered who had beaten him before.
The war gods of two different great worlds clashed in earnest, brandishing their divine weapons and going all out.
The shockwaves from their contest of god-force effortlessly turned this battlefield—built from the earth element of five small worlds—upside down...
But that wasn't the point. The point was that the moment Ares rushed up, the breach in the ground was sealed by Geb, Ginnungagap's acting earth god.
Only Ares's wife—Enyo, who was also Hera's daughter—managed to follow.
But the goddess who embodied the cruelty of war burst in only to run into Arthur, the Aesir god of knights.
"This..." Before Hera could react, her other fine son, Hephaestus, god of fire and forging, was blocked by the suddenly appearing former Sumerian fire god Gibil. The two fire-aspect gods went clanging into a brawl.
Unnoticed, the only ones still at Hera's side were her two daughters: Hebe, goddess of youth, and Eileithyia, goddess of childbirth.
Hebe was a bit stronger, a proper goddess. Eileithyia was purely a subordinate deity.
Frankly, none of the three were combat types, even if all of them now held short divine blades forged by Hephaestus's own hands.
Anyone who knew the Aesir would know their weapons were generally superior to Olympus's. Even though Hephaestus had broken past the limits of his divine office and lately begun forging iron divine arms, it was maddening how far they still lagged behind the Aesir's steel-forged god-weapons.
In extreme unease, Hera and her two daughters stood almost back-to-back in the dark tangle of roots, neither advancing nor retreating, at a loss.
At the same time, Odin, who had been happily watching the show, suddenly received a mind-voice from his big brother.
"Odin?"
"Brother? What is it?" Odin's face soured as he muttered inwardly: No way—after turning me loose and dumping me in Tartarus to suffer, he still has the nerve to ask me to fight? That's not like my brother...
Thalos smiled mysteriously. "My foolish brother, did you think I wanted you to go head-to-head with Zeus?"
Odin winced and cursed in his heart: Having a big brother who knows me too well is seriously annoying!
Out loud, Odin plastered on a smile. "You know, Brother, your foolish brother isn't what he used to be."
Thalos said nothing, simply slapped over a psychic projection.
In it, the isolated Hera and her two daughters trembled in the dark, helpless.
"My foolish brother, I'll say this upfront: you can have her divine body, but not her divine soul. One of her offices is (Jealousy). So—even so, are you in or not?"
The next second, Odin—who'd been drinking and making merry—sprang up from his throne. His eyes went scarlet, his nostrils huffed like a bull in rut.
"In! Absolutely in! I'm going all the way!" Odin howled, startling Apuche and several newly delivered Greek goddesses.
"Your Majesty, what's wrong?" Apuche asked, dazed.
"We move now," Odin said, still buzzing.
"Your Majesty, didn't we agree with His Majesty Thalos—"
"We're going to take Hera and her daughters!" Odin flipped his hand and hurled out the psychic projection from his big brother.
At that, the old Mayan gods all got riled up and feverish. Back when they were defeated, which of them hadn't had their goddesses and attendants seized?
As wandering gods, they could shrug about reclaiming those goddesses and attendants—who might well have been abused. What couldn't be lost was face. They had to get it back. Otherwise how would they show their faces among the Aesir?
Odin knew freeing Kronos had earned him great merit and would bring him Thalos's favor. He truly hadn't expected his brother to help him reclaim his dignity, too.
Overjoyed, he led his men, scampering off to fight.
No tricks, no mishaps. Through the spatial corridor Thalos designated, Odin and his followers indeed found Hera and her two daughters, further isolated and trapped in a root-realm pocket.
Weak. Pitiful. Helpless.
Hera's expression changed on the spot when she saw Odin's party.
Odin was in rare form.
Hovering in midair, he offered Hera an exceedingly courtly greeting.
"Great Olympian Queen Hera. I suppose you might not remember me." Odin straightened, lifted his chin, and a cruel, mocking smile spread across his face. "Because then, your son Ares had my head under his heel, my left cheek pressed to the floor of the Olympian temple—oh, that pristine white marble was the filthiest thing I've ever seen. And right before my eyes, Zeus stole my divine consort..."
Hera and her daughters nearly blacked out at once. The black-iron divine sword in Hera's hand trembled.
Before she could respond, Odin went on with a snarl. "It was I… who freed Kronos from Tartarus. It was I… who took away the small world attached to your fief. And now it is I… who will become your new master. So I hope you remember my name quickly. I am Odin Borson!"