First Demonic Dragon

Chapter 588 The Death of Asgard : Part VI

It is so easy to lose track of time when one is immersed within a particular task.

Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, and days turn into night; all seamlessly without breaking one's focus.

All that you can do is concentrate with machine-like patience while performing the task in front of you to the very best of your ability.

This is exactly what Abaddon was going through now.

He had no idea how long he had been burning through the army of einherjar for.

Hours...? No, it was probably days.

There was truly no end to the army in sight.

Going against every warrior soul whom had ever rested inside Valhalla was an unthinkable feat to try to pull off.

If Abaddon were still an unbound amalgamations of concepts with limitless energy, he could fight this battle until he was blue in the face.

But with more than 70% of his power residing back home, he was actually starting to feel tired.

And not the usual mental tired that comes naturally when you have ten wives and ten kids.

This was physical exhaustion that he hadn't felt in... gods know how long.

But even though his muscles had begun to scream at him to rest, he ignored his body.

This decision of his did not come from hubris or even a sense of arrogance, but instead a feeling of necessity.

If he did not do this, then who?

If not now, when?

All eight of the dragons that made up Abaddon suddenly took a break from spewing this odd black fire of his and turned their bodies in similar directions.

Once all of their snouts were facing each other, the dragons opened their mouths wide and focused the blasts towards one single point in the sky.

The beams merged upon intersecting; and formed a small burning sun within the sky.

Once the mass of flame reached an optimal size, it even developed it's own gravitational pull.

The sun began attracting einherjar in droves; pulling them in against their will and immersing them in the unsightly flame.

As those who were the closest burned up immediately and were erased without a second thought, the sun suddenly compacted before blowing apart in an apocalyptic explosion.

An uncountable number of flaming black arrows rained down on the army in a widespread formation.

As the soldiers were impaled, they let out excruciating howls of pain while their bodies literally began disintegrating before the naked eye.

Even though their companions were looking at them seconds ago, and had several lifetimes with of memories of drinking and making merry within the halls of Valhalla; a single blink was all that it took before they were forgotten for good.

'Alright... I should change the pace now.'

Suddenly, Abaddon reformed him selves until he was back in his normal weakened appearance.

Letting himself fall through the air of his on volition, he held out his hands and created an assortment of throwing knives in each hand.

With expert precision, he hurled them through the air and struck the einherjar dead center as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Moving so quickly that his hands were impossible to follow, he would repeat this action a total of exactly 212 times before he finally landed back-first into a pile of red snow.

Sighing, he took a moment to think about next steps for the first time in 5 days.

After all of is work, the army seemed not to have gotten any smaller.

Billions of new souls were now resting inside of his oblivion, and he had absolutely nothing significant to show for it.

Time slowed down for him as he lay in the snow, and he sped up his thinking capabilities to come up with some sort of new direction of attack.

And unsurprisingly, it didnt take him very long to come up with one.

'I wonder... If I destroy Valhalla itself, what will happen all of you?'

With a new plan in mind, Abaddon hopped back onto his feet and created two large black axes to hold in each hand.

'Now... Let's open up a pat-'

*Humm!*

Miraculously, a huge column of shining blue light appeared within the hellish snowfield.

Abaddon's eyes narrowed as he stepped back warily.

Before the column had even fully dispersed itself, a bolt of white lightning the size of a skyscraper shot towards Abaddon.

"..." A dark, disinterested look formed on his face as he knocked the bolt aside with one of his axes; redirecting it and unintentionally causing an explosion four times the size of any nuclear blast.

"Well... It does my being good to see that my extra time in preparation will be necessary after all. I feared the worst."

When the column of light finally dispersed, Abaddon could finally see the star-studded cast that was assembled.

Standing in front of him and mixed in with the unending einherjar was an assortment of gods from a variety of major pantheons.

As well as their armies.

Greek, Aztec, Shinto, Babylonian, Mesopotamian, Xhosa, Egyptian, the list went on and on.

But perhaps the only pantheon that he didnt see, was Hindu.

'Strange...'

Standing in front of the army were nine of the twelve olympians, along with the addition of Hades.

They were all quite the sight to behold, but there was one who was at least head and shoulders above the rest.

Describing the aura of the king of Olympus is difficult.

As the ruler of the skies and thunder, he was almost all encompassing- and embodied a very real threat, similar to a natural disaster of cataclysmic proportions.

Within his glowing white eyes, it was clear that he saw all underneath the heavens as being beneath his time, notice, and patience.

Abaddon found him to be repulsive before he even opened his mouth.

"You're late..." Odin appeared beside Thor in a flash of light; his body still bruised and horribly battered.

It was evident that the only reason he could get around was due to the staff that was keeping him upright.

"...You failed miserably to best him it seems." Zeus muttered.

"I'll do fine without your observations, thunder god. Had I not had to face him alone I would have undoubtedly faired better."

A male god with bright blonde hair the color of woven gold chuckled audibly with no intent to feign manners.

"I hope you've at least learned something interesting in exchange for all of those lumps on your head! Maybe even gave something back in response?" Apollo asked.

The gods glanced at Abaddon, who was once again sitting cross-legged in a field of bloody snow; staring back at them.

The dragon didn't have so much as one scratch on his whole body.

His black martial outfit didn't have a tear, rip, or even a stain.

The only evidence that he had been fighting was in the steam that was rolling off of his body into the cold air.

Even for the embodiment of sexuality, the sight was dangerously attractive.

"...Must we truly kill him?" Xochiequetzal, a beautiful aztec goddess of weaving and sexuality, had a total of five husbands from her own pantheon already.

And now, she was looking at Abaddon like he was about to be number six.

With her being such an infamous seductress, she was almost positive that she could find a peaceful solution to this entire conflict; all she needed was a locked room and a bottle of lube.

And the room was optional truthfully...

Zeus glared at the raven haired goddess like he was thinking about backhanding her. "You would dare attempt to collude with our enemy within my sight? I have half a mind to send you to the great beyond with him after this is all-"

"After...?"

Abaddon's voice was almost as quiet as a whisper, but it hit the ears of the gods like a roar.

For those who had never heard it, the sound of his voice so close to their ears was almost as strong as one's first hit of a hard drug.

It was unique in it's allure and regality, and no matter what he was saying you just wanted to hear him keep speaking for years on end.

Even if what he was saying was horrific in nature.

"I find your words... tasteless... thoughtless... and unwise. Now that all of you have arrived here of your own accord to stand against me, there is to be no after.

I am oblivion. From the moment that you burst forth or were conceptualized, you were all fated to return to my suffocating embrace at one day in your unremarkable futures.

You were given a chance to stave off my coming, but you spat when I offered you my hand.

And now, your foolish crusade against the inevitable has brought you before me all the sooner; accomplishing nothing of circumstance and hastening your erasure all the sooner.

I offer no more chances for peace. Today, all who stand in Asgard will join the forgotten. As I vow it, so it shall be."

Abaddon rose back to his feet after a quick rest and all of the gods in attendance stepped back a single time.

Though he was missing so much of his power, the second activation of the sin of pride had given him a physically imposing aura that could at least mimic his full might; even if it was not exact.

He lifted his axes onto his shoulders and started to charge forward and begin the massacre.

"No... I don't think it will."

Poseidon suddenly stepped forward; gold trident in one hand and five glowing spheres within the other.

Abaddon didn't have to ask what they were, and his eyes burned red to indicate the fact that he was not happy.

"They say that the source of all dragons cares for each of the dovah as if they are his own. Flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood, am I correct?

Then surely you would not want the souls of your own blood relatives to lose their chance at an afterlife, would you?"

Abaddon recalled two people in that moment.

The first was his grandfather, Helios.

He was a cranky old man with whom Abaddon didn't always see eye to eye with, but there was one thing that they were in complete agreement over.

Both of them would rather die than be used as some bargaining chip by an unworthy enemy.

The second person he recalled was Demeter.

Abaddon could not give her the type of love that she wanted, but he truly did love her immensely.

Recalling the story between herself and Poseidon that she had painfully confessed to him, Abaddon's anger broke a new threshold.

"You… You die first..!"

After five days of fighting ceaselessly, Abaddon finally had recovered just a bit of magic.

It was barely anything, but it was enough for him to cast atleast one spell.

And he just so happened to have the perfect one in mind given the present situation.

Abaddon could have certainly tried to fight all of these gods by himself, but he just didn't believe it to be smart given the amount of planning that went into this ambush.

No doubt they had a surprise hidden and waiting for him.

So he needed help.

But Abaddon was extremely particular, so he could think of only one person that would do.

The sky overhead and the ground beneath his feet turned irredeemably dark; like looking into the furthest depths of a cave with your eyes shut.

A very familiar giant wooden door appeared directly beside Abaddon and swung open at his behest.

A man whom almost nobody recognized stepped through.

He was a large man at a full 6'7, but still falling underneath the 7' Abaddon.

His body was impossibly muscular and powerful, and his tanned skin was lined with an even mixture of dark red demonic tattoos and old wounds.

Two large demonic horns curled out of his head of fiery orange hair, and a short but nimble tail swung behind his back.

The stranger inhaled deeply, and he opened his bright yellow eyes to take in the glorious and soon to be bloody scene around him.

"This…"

Abaddon smirked.

"I'm aware that there is a bit of catching up to do, but for right now that will have to wait. I hope soul destruction has not hampered your lust for battle, Uncle."

Satan, The First Sin of Wrath, smiled like a wild beast at the sight of so much prey standing around in front of him.

He held his hands out to the sky; almost in a prayer-like gesture, and voiced his exhilaration loud for all to hear.

"What a glorious day… WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY!!"