"Tenra, you… you killed Lord Loki…"
Rossweisse stared at Tenra, eyes wide with disbelief. In Norse legend, Loki was more than just an evil god—he was a figure of immense status, one whose fate should be decided only by the likes of Odin. That Tenra had simply killed him—just like that—was almost too much to comprehend.
"He cursed me and my women. Swore he'd have his revenge. Why would I keep someone like that alive?" Tenra shrugged, utterly unfazed. "Don't worry, Rossweisse. I'll explain things to Odin myself."
Rossweisse opened her mouth, but no words came out. It would take time for her to process this. Renare, on the other hand, wore a satisfied smirk—her only regret was not getting to stab Loki herself.
The battle was winding down. Only a couple of mass-produced dragons remained, and Rias's team had them cornered. Tenra's attention shifted to Fenrir.
To his surprise, Fenrir had managed to bite through several of the golden bracelets during Loki's demise. The "God-Slaying Fangs" lived up to their legend; given a little more time, the beast might have escaped. But Tenra wasn't in the mood for 'what ifs.'
He sneered, activating the Shield of Darkness. The giant's shadow twisted, merging with Fenrir's. Instantly, Fenrir's body locked up—no matter how he struggled, even the void itself began to crack under the strain.
Tenra had to admit: this wolf was terrifying. Without his arsenal of Sacred Gears, he'd have no chance. But leaving a monster like this alive was asking for trouble. Loki was gone—why not finish the job?
He picked up the violet greatsword and swung it down at Fenrir's head.
"ROOOOOOAAAAR!"
Blood sprayed. The blade carved a deep gash, blinding one of Fenrir's eyes. The wolf, now one-eyed and bleeding, looked even more savage.
Tenra grinned. He'd never seen anything so tough. If one strike wouldn't do it, he'd try ten. If ten failed, he'd go for a hundred. He was curious to see how long Fenrir could last.
Sword raised for another blow—until a magic circle flared in the air and a figure stepped through.
"Lord Tenra, please wait!"
Tenra frowned at the golden-haired gentleman. "Arthur Pendragon?"
Arthur bowed politely. "May I request that you hand Fenrir over to us?"
"We're not enemies, but we're not friends either. Give me one good reason."
Tenra's lips curled with amusement; he wasn't in a hurry to refuse.
Arthur drew a sword from his waist, its blade gleaming. "I offer you the Holy Sword of Domination in exchange."
He continued, "I've heard that your companion, Irina Shidou, possesses a holy sword formed from six fused Excaliburs. If she fuses this sword as well, she'll wield the complete Excalibur."
Arthur paused, presenting the sword. "What do you say, Lord Tenra?"
Tenra considered. On paper, trading Fenrir for a broken sword seemed foolish. But Fenrir was worthless to him—either he killed it, or he traded it. Giving Irina the complete Excalibur, though, would massively boost her strength.
No contest.
"Deal."
He didn't care what Arthur wanted Fenrir for. If they ever became enemies, he'd just kill the wolf next time.
Arthur's relief was obvious. With Fenrir, his team's power would skyrocket—enough to deter even the Hero Faction.
Under Tenra's watchful gaze, Arthur channeled energy into the Holy Sword of Domination. The blade blazed with light as he pressed it to Fenrir's forehead.
A beast as powerful as Fenrir couldn't be completely dominated, but a nudge to its will was enough. The wolf's rage faded; its single eye looked at Arthur with something like trust.
Tenra nodded to himself. The Holy Sword of Domination—true to its name—could bend even legends to its wielder's will. Of all the seven Excalibur fragments, this was the strongest.
Once Irina fused this sword using Valper Galilei's alchemy, she'd wield the full Excalibur. Not only would her combat power soar, but if Tenra ever needed someone 'reeducated,' a few jabs from Irina would do the trick. Convenient weapon, indeed.
The ritual complete, Arthur withdrew the sword, sheathed it, and tossed it to Tenra.
Tenra inspected the blade, satisfied. He kept his word, dispelling Fenrir's restraints with a wave.
"Lord Tenra, I look forward to our next meeting. Farewell."
Arthur bowed again, summoned a teleportation circle, and vanished with Fenrir.
"Tenra!"
"Lord Tenra!"
The girls' voices carried over as they finished off their own opponents and flew to regroup.
Tenra dismissed the warrior giant and joined them, taking a quick headcount. Several were badly wounded and unconscious, but no one had died. With Asia's healing and Phoenix Tears, they'd recover soon enough.
Their mission was complete. Loki was dead. Victory was theirs.
After a short rest, Tenra and the girls emerged from the dimensional rift just as the summit of gods wrapped up. The news that Tenra had killed Loki sent shockwaves—Odin, Sirzechs, Azazel, even Michael were stunned.
Most took it in stride, but Odin's expression was complicated. Loki had always been extreme, but he'd acted for the Norse pantheon. His death was a massive loss.
Still, Odin said little. Loki's ideology had always been dangerous. Maybe, for the sake of peace, his death was a blessing.
Poor Loki. Dead for nothing, with no one seeking revenge. Instead, his passing was spun as a victory for peace. May his soul rest in heaven. Amen…
🔥 Want to read the next 50+ chapters RIGHT NOW?
💎 Patreon members get instant access!
⚡ Limited-time offer currently running...
👉 [Join on - patreon.com/GoldenLong]