"Hey, kid! It's a festival today, so I won't rough you up just yet. Want to solve your body's little 'problem'? That shouldn't be a problem at all."
Kothul spoke casually, roasting a massive slab of meat over the fire using a thick metal rod. He much preferred the innocent, child-like will of the Hulk; children were far easier to guide. Guiding a stubborn, independent adult like Bruce Banner, however, was a nightmare.
As for Betty Ross, her current form as a Harpy made him itch with irritation. What was this? A person who couldn't even control their own power? Even the Spider Queen, Araneae, could shift back into a human form when she felt like it.
Kothul found both Banner and Betty somewhat eyesores, but the fact that they could ascend the Holy Mountain proved they were righteous and possessed true courage. They both deserved a chance. As for the conflict between Banner and the Hulk, it would cease to be an issue once they truly recognized themselves. Integration was inevitable; the only question was which consciousness would take the lead.
"I'd like to know... why did you want to 'rough me up' in the first place?" Banner asked, his voice calm as he sat across from the massive Barbarian.
His eyes were peaceful. With the Hulk currently cowering deep inside, afraid to emerge, Banner finally felt like a human being again. In truth, the relationship between him and the Hulk was like a fractured soul. They shared one body—why was it that only the Hulk got to be the giant while Banner was forced to watch his own hands smash everything in sight?
Banner had once sought escape, and thus, "The Hulk" was born to carry his sins. But how much moral nuance could a child's mind hold? It was the cruelty within a child's innocent smile that truly chilled the blood.
"Aha! You want to talk logic? I love talking logic!" Kothul pulled a small knife, sliced off the outer layer of roasted meat, and shoved it into his mouth.
He loved to argue; it was his favorite pastime during the lulls between battles. The big man actually had a decent temperament when it came to bickering, provided no one started throwing punches or insults.
"Pain is the fastest way to remember a lesson," Kothul explained. "Fire burns; falling hurts. I'll use pain to help you remember how to use the power in your body, rather than handing the keys over to a child who doesn't know any better."
Kothul grunted, expressing his dissatisfaction with a child wielding such power. He sliced more meat and placed it into a "plate"—which was really just a stone he had hollowed out with his bare hands. He handed the meat to Banner and Betty.
His copper-bell eyes remained fixed on Betty Ross, filled with intense anticipation. It wasn't that he was attracted to her; he simply wanted to see how a Harpy ate. Would she eat like the giant bird he raised as a boy? Snatch a piece of meat, tilt her head back, swallow it whole, and give her head a little shake? The thought brought back a wave of nostalgic warmth.
"So your 'logic' is just corporal punishment? Using pain as a threat?" Banner frowned and shook his head. He was a world-class polymath, one of the smartest men on Earth, and he was fundamentally opposed to physical discipline.
"What corporal punishment? That's just training!" Kothul turned his head, looking at Banner with annoyance. "How can you be a warrior if you can't adapt to pain?"
To a Barbarian, pain was a basic requirement. Even if Kanuk trained Kaecilius with his fists, or Madawc swatted Luke's head, there was never any malice involved. It was a necessary process for anyone resolving to become a warrior. To do otherwise was irresponsible to the recruit. This wasn't a school; it was a battlefield for growth.
"Do you think I'd just beat you for the hell of it? I'd rather go play in a Rift," Kothul growled. "Demons don't give me any of this 'you're being too rough' crap."
While Kothul was busy glaring at Banner, Betty Ross had already finished her meat. She didn't eat like a bird; she used her hands. By the time Kothul looked back, her stone plate was empty.
"Hmm? Looks like you've got a healthy appetite. Have another!" Kothul sliced off another piece, this one still rare and bloody. Perhaps a Harpy preferred something more feral.
"I only want to solve my... condition," Banner said thoughtfully. "A warrior... that might not be the path I want."
He was a man pushed into a corner by fate, a scientist whose only resort was the beast within. Was being a warrior better than being a scientist? Few warriors were billionaires, while a scientist's equipment cost a fortune.
"I'm not going to use that 'with great power comes great responsibility' nonsense on you," Kothul said, planting his iron rod into the ground. "But honestly, you might have a brighter future as a warrior than as a scientist."
He didn't notice that his words had annoyed Spider-Man, who was sitting by another campfire. To Peter Parker, those words were the last advice of a beloved mentor—the core of his identity. But Peter didn't argue. His principles were for himself, not to be forced upon others.
"I need time to think. A warrior doesn't exactly drive human progress," Banner said, scratching his head as he looked at Tony Stark drinking with Rumlow. It felt surreal. Tony Stark—the great inventor—seemed to get along perfectly with these Barbarians. It made Banner waver.
"Without warriors, how would humans survive the Demon Lords? By becoming pets for the Angels?" Kothul shot back.
Betty used the opportunity to finish the rare meat. Whether as a human or a Harpy, she had always preferred her steak rare.
"Kothul, you're too soft," a voice boomed. Cassius walked over, his massive belt jingling, swaying like a street thug. "If it were me, I'd just pin the kid down and thrash him until he realized the importance of strength. It serves as the first step of pain-adaptation training and saves time."
"Like you're one to talk! You haven't even managed to make that Natasha girl cry yet," Kothul retorted, standing up and grabbing Cassius's braided beard. It was their way of saying hello.
They were talking about Natasha Romanoff. During her training, she had shown a terrifying resilience, skipping past most of the pain-adaptation phases.
"That girl wants to be strong. She's more of a Barbarian than this kid who can't even admit what he is," Cassius grumbled, eyeing Banner. "It's the first time I've seen a dual-consciousness being climb the mountain. If they can both make it up, their minds should be similar, yet they can't even manage basic communication?"
Then, Cassius turned his gaze to Betty. "Ho! Now this girl is much more pleasing to the eye! Her will is so focused it's almost glowing."
Betty shivered, her feathers standing on end. Cassius's gaze was aggressive, making her feel as helpless as a chick in front of a predator.
"Drop the act," Kothul said, pulling harder on Cassius's beard to drag his head back. "I know you idolize that idiot Vorusk, but you don't have to copy everything he does. You're a dead man; just enjoy the festival."
Kothul wrapped a thick arm around Cassius's head. Cassius, a brawler who fought with his fists, had a neck as thick as a barrel, making him look more like a cylinder than a human. He often tried to mimic Vorusk's mannerisms, but without understanding the why behind them, he just looked foolish.
"I was just looking! Doesn't Kanuk always stare at Li-Ming?" Cassius struggled to free his head. "It's a festival! The mountain gave us enough energy to manifest physical bodies—let us use them!"
Kothul sighed and dragged Cassius away by his beard, like a farmer leading an unruly ox. The two Ancestors disappeared into the shadows, likely to find a place to settle their differences with a duel.
"Dr. Banner, a pleasure to finally meet you."
Tony Stark walked over and sat across from Banner, looking him up and down with a hint of reluctance. Banner was currently wearing a set of simple clothes given to him by the kindly Auntie Mala, making him look more like a homeless man than a nuclear physicist.
"Mr. Stark. I imagine you don't care much for the title 'Doctor' right now," Banner replied with a small smile.
"Just call me Tony. This is my first time at a festival like this, and I could use someone to talk to who... well, who knows what a motherboard is. By the way, is this your lady?" Tony turned to Betty. A Harpy was an endless source of curiosity for him.
"Yes. She's my fiancée, Betty Ross," Banner said.
Betty was moved. This was all she ever wanted. She cherished Bruce enough to defy her own iron-willed father. "Hello, Mr. Stark. It's a pleasure."
"Hello, Ms. Ross. You look... striking." Tony wasn't great at being a "gentleman" in the traditional sense. He was a playboy, but he usually didn't have to work for it.
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