Anat rose from the ground once more, taking her katana again as she laughed.
“I assume you killed my malak in Tula… and have been following me ever since, correct?” the goddess said, staring downward with a manic gaze.
Odin did not utter a single word.
“I also assume you saw who I met before coming here… didn’t you?” Anat continued, swinging her katana again.
“Reckon I gotta say somethin’,” Thor shouted from afar, spitting to the side. “Don’t know why the hell you’re swingin’ that foreign sword, but watchin’ you fight Father… you’re movin’ slow as molasses.”
“She’s usin’ that thing like it’s just a kitchen knife,” he added.
Odin’s expression darkened.
“Indeed… her strikes lack the grace and refinement of warriors from the lands of Yamato,” the old god said.
Anat began to laugh.
“I took this katana by killing one of those warriors. I am a collector of weapons… which is why your spear will be mine.”
“That will never happen,” Odin replied, impaling her again with a horizontal strike. Blood spilled—but her wounds regenerated instantly.
“You are correct, however… I am terrible with this sword,” Anat admitted.
The katana vanished before everyone’s eyes.
Anat raised her hand and, behind her, hundreds of weapons appeared—like an armory manifesting out of thin air, a technique Ana herself could perform. Anat reached back and took a simple knife into her right hand. The armory vanished.
“This weapon… this simple knife… suits my style far better,” she said.
Odin, having glimpsed the future, swallowed and smiled faintly.
“Changing fate is very complicated. It's like trying to stop one or two stampeding beasts,” he murmured cryptically.
In the next instant, Odin foresaw Anat cutting his throat—but the time between vision and action was too short. He failed to avoid it completely. Anat tore through half his neck, even as he attempted to counter with his spear.
Then, with swift, acrobatic movements, Anat severed Odin’s wrist—too fast even for his immediate foresight to catch. The god dropped Gungnir, grimacing in pain.
She did not stop.
Driving her knife forward, Anat stabbed Odin through the stomach. Even his totema armor was sliced open like paper. Odin leapt back, clutching his bleeding abdomen.
Thor clenched his jaw in fury—but Odin ordered him not to interfere.
A flock of ravens began to gather around Odin. Blue and black feathers swirled, completely enveloping the Allfather.
Anat laughed at the display and lunged with her knife—but the ravens intercepted her, carrying her away.
“Hey! Can ya toss her clean off the continent an’ into the sea?!” Thor shouted.
Odin shook his head.
In the sky, two massive spectral wolves appeared. They opened their jaws and bit into the swarm of ravens holding Anat. Blood splattered across the sky.
Yet to Thor’s shock, Anat tore off her own arms to escape the flock and evade the wolves. Her limbs regenerated instantly—her ichor reserves still abundant.
Seeing her launch toward Odin, Thor ran to retrieve Gungnir but Anat sliced through the air, severing the tendons of his heels. He collapsed face-first.
The ravens surged again toward Anat—but with a few precise cuts through the air, she erased them all. They vanished as if they had never existed.
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She landed lightly.
The wolves approached—but without any visible motion, they were shredded apart, dissolving like the ravens.
“Got any more cheap tricks, old man?” Anat asked, smiling.
Odin raised his palm toward her.
A violent tremor erupted.
Anat’s body was torn to pieces—shattered as if by an unseen force.
“You did it, Father!” Thor shouted.
Odin shook his head.
“No.”
“And before we continue, I want to tell you that I have always been very proud of you, Thor, my son,” Odin said.
Thor’s expression shifted—uneasy.
Anat’s body reformed instantly, blood covering her form—but no wounds remained. Her ichor was untouched.
Odin looked once more into the future and then he stopped moving, taking a posture as if he had completely surrendered.
Anat burst into laughter.
“So… you give up, old man?”
Odin shook his head.
“It is time for the next generation to take the reins of this war, Anat,” he said calmly. “My role here… has come to an end.”
Anat leapt forward and split Odin in half with a downward strike.
His body fell in two pieces beside her, blood raining down upon her form.
Thor roared in fury and charged but Anat instantly severed his arm and head.
The bodies of both Norse gods lay at her feet.
She turned toward Gungnir but Menrva descended upon her with a massive golden triangle.
Before Anat could react, Menrva’s abdomen split open—her own intestines spilling forth, raining down upon the Phoenician goddess.
Anat merely licked the blood from her face.
“This reminds me of the exquisite human sacrifices once offered in my honor,” she laughed.
Menrva’s unconscious body fell backward and her energy triangle disappeared.
Anat took Gungnir in her left hand and began to laugh.
“I can feel the immense power of this weapon… and now it is mine!”
The Norse gods arrived at that moment—and froze in horror at the sight of Odin, Thor, and Menrva lying dismembered on the ground. No words came. None knew what to do.
“Perfect test subjects for my new toy,” Anat said, her eyes filled with sadistic delight.
Before Freyr, Freyja, Tyr, and Ana could even prepare to fight, Anat moved Gungnir four times.
All four gods were impaled instantly, holes opening in their chests as they lost consciousness.
“No… that damn Whoranat killed Epona, and now Odin is dead…” Ana thought, trembling with rage. “I have to avenge her!”
“Damn you, Anat! I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” she screamed.
Her totema changed again—now white, black, and gold, just as when she had awakened Excalibur. The sacred blade appeared in her right hand. Two wings emerged from her back—one white, one dark—while her eyes glowed with intense aquamarine light.
“Caoin cath (Warcry)!”
Her power surged exponentially from the manná she had lost. Not as violently as on Mars—but enough.
She dashed forward and severed the arm holding Gungnir before Anat could perceive it clearly.
But the moment Anat realized, she drove her knife into Ana’s chest.
Ana collapsed instantly, unconscious. Her golden totema shattered. Excalibur vanished.
Anat noticed her arm regenerating slower than before. Odin’s assault—and Ana’s final strike—had drained a significant portion of her ichor.
As her arm finally reformed, she attempted to reclaim Gungnir through telekinesis...
but failed.
Menrva, barely alive, was dragging herself across the ground—gripping the spear with what little strength remained.
“You worthless insects! You just keep coming!” Anat roared.
She ripped the knife from Ana’s body and moved to stab Menrva—but suddenly, Thor grabbed her from behind.
His head had regenerated—but not the hand that once held Mjolnir.
“You moron. You can’t hold me like this forever,” Anat said, plunging her knife into his stomach.
Thor grimaced—but did not let go.
“Heimdall gave me a Bifrost teleporter… said to use it in Vinland if things went bad. Never figured I’d use it on you,” Thor growled through clenched teeth.
“Heimdall! Bridge of Bifrost—send us to Loki’s prison! Jotunheim!”
A radiant rainbow light descended upon them—
and both vanished.
They reappeared within Loki’s ancient prison.
Thor released her and fell onto his back, smiling faintly.
“You stupid thunder god! You think this pathetic dimensional prison can hold me?!” Anat snarled.
“We reinforced the dimensional walls after Loki escaped,” Thor replied. “Ain’t just a few now—there’s thousands stacked on top of each other.”
Anat slashed at the barriers—but only managed to cut a handful before they instantly reformed.
She attacked again and again—same result.
“Damn it… I’ll have to contact Baalat to get me out of here—”
She tried.
Nothing.
“Your telepathy ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Thor said, laughing weakly. “Till your Lel buddies figure out you’re trapped here… you’re stuck. And since you came alone… you’ll rot here long enough for the ones who’ll defeat you… to rise.”
“Then you will die here,” Anat said, smiling coldly.
“If my life helps bring down your kind… I’ll give it gladly, you filthy fucking bitch,” Thor spat.
He closed his eyes.
“Athena… I couldn’t keep my promise. But your disciples… they’ll do it. I saw them today… they’ll be the ones to finish this.”
“Father, now I understand that you saw this in the past and said goodbye to me. Thank you for trusting me.”
Anat raised her knife—and beheaded him.
His breathing stopped.
Thor’s head remained—resting in a pool of blood, still bearing a faint smile.
The Norse god of thunder was dead.