Starting With an SSS-Rank Goddess Summon!

Chapter 205: Thor, Daughter Of Odin [Bonus Chapter]

As Seraphina choked, the god’s glowing golden eyes slowly, deliberately trailed down her body.

He observed the way her ruined scorched armor clung to her curves, his gaze drinking in her thrashing form with blatant arrogant appreciation.

"What a fiery, beautiful little mortal," Ititus purred. "Perhaps, before I crush your throat, I should keep you as a concubine in my new—"

SWISH!

The god didn’t get to finish his disgusting sentence.

Silas intercepted instantly.

He simply produced a shockwave, utilizing a highly pressurized burst of water mana directly beneath his boots to slingshot himself horizontally across the battlefield.

Silas closed the distance instantly with his core roaring internally. He channeled every single drop of his water mana directly into the edge of his mythril blade.

"Sever!" Silas roared.

KRA-SLASH!

Silas swung his sword with monstrous physical strength.

The hyper-pressurized water blade sheared completely through the god’s golden bicep, cleanly cutting off the arm that was holding Seraphina by the throat!

The golden arm detached and Seraphina plummeted toward the glass floor, gasping for air.

Silas fluidly dropped his sword, stepping forward to perfectly save Seraphina.

He caught her securely in his strong left arm, pulling her coughing trembling body tightly against his chest.

’I’m only doing this so she forgives me...’ Silas thought, the last thing he wanted was for her to go complain to her Father.

Ititus roared in surprise with his remaining three arms reaching for them but Silas didn’t retreat.

He violently thrust his right palm directly forward, aiming point-blank at the god’s perfect face.

"Drown!" Silas commanded.

He blasted the god with a massive deluge of heavy water, firing gallons of pressurized liquid directly into Ititus’s eyes and mouth, completely soaking the golden sand.

"Ice Transformation!" Silas shouted, his voice echoing with lethal intent.

KRKKKKKKKKK!

The heavy water soaking the god’s head and torso violently flash-froze.

The temperature plummeted to absolute zero, completely encasing the upper half of the deity in an unbreakable block of solid blue ice, temporarily blinding and immobilizing him.

Silas didn’t stick around to admire his work.

Giving himself much-needed space, he kicked off the ground, carrying the coughing Seraphina thirty yards backward, landing securely next to Aeliana.

"Are you alright?" Silas asked, setting Seraphina on her feet.

Seraphina clutched her bruised throat, coughing violently.

Her silver hair slowly faded back to crimson as the Spirit retreated and she looked up at Silas as her red eyes went wide with a complex mixture of intense fury and undeniable gratitude.

"I had him," Seraphina rasped stubbornly, though she didn’t pull away from his grip.

Across the battlefield, a deep echoing laughter began to emanate from within the solid block of blue ice.

KRA-KRA-SHATTER!

The ice exploded outward into powder.

Ititus broke out of it effortlessly with the freezing magic completely unable to hold his divine physical density.

The god landed gracefully on the sand, instantly re-condensing his severed arm and reassuming his perfect flawless four-armed form.

He wasn’t smiling anymore as the arrogant lust was gone, replaced by divine wrath.

"I am done playing with you insects," Ititus declared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the Secret Realm.

The god raised all four of his arms high into the air.

The entire desert violently responded.

Millions of tons of golden sand began to rapidly gather, swirling aggressively into a massive tidal wave that eclipsed the sun.

He was about to completely consume all of them in a single, inescapable burst of crushing sand.

Silas tightened his grip on his sword, preparing to desperately try and steal the final hit before they were buried but he didn’t have to.

KRA-CRACK!

A deafening completely unnatural sound suddenly echoed across the heavens. It sounded exactly like a massive pane of thick glass violently snapping in half.

Everyone including the angry god stopped and looked up.

A massive literal crack went straight through the amber sky of the Secret Realm!

The very fabric of the spatial dimension was physically fracturing under an impossible outside pressure.

It was immediately followed by an explosion so massive and so completely astronomically immense, that it instantly destabilized the entire Secret Realm!

KRA-THOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The concussive shockwave ripped across the desert, instantly vaporizing the god’s apocalyptic sand tidal wave into harmless dust.

The environment of the realm violently failed as in a single fraction of a microsecond, the bright amber day turned to pitch-black night.

The stars didn’t appear as the sky was simply a void of crushing pressure.

Ititus’s flawless, arrogant face instantly went completely, bone-white pale.

The god lowered his four arms, his golden eyes widening in divine terror as he looked up at the shattered sky.

Someone was descending into the Secret Realm.

Through the massive crack in the sky, a blinding bolt of pure white-hot natural lightning violently struck the earth, impacting directly in the center of the battlefield between the Valoria coalition and the terrified sand god.

BOOOOOOM!

The sound of atmospheric thunder rolled across the dunes, so loud and heavy that it physically rattled the teeth in Silas’s skull.

The air instantly filled with the stench of static electricity.

As the light of the lightning strike slowly faded, a single silhouette stood in the center of the smoking vitrified glass crater.

The figure casually rolled her shoulders, dusting a speck of ash from her highly intricate runic-engraved silver armor.

She possessed long, braided blonde hair that crackled with residual static, and in her right hand, she casually held a short-handled war hammer that radiated a terrifying aura.

The woman stood up straight, completely ignoring the awestruck Lords surrounding her.

Then she cleared her throat politely with her voice carrying a calm tone that echoed flawlessly in the dead silence of the night.

"Hello," the woman introduced herself, offering a brief courteous nod to the group. "I am Thor. You may know me as the Daughter of Odin."

She hoisted her war hammer effortlessly, resting the heavy iron head casually against her silver-armored shoulder.

Her piercing electrical blue eyes slowly scanned the silent battlefield.

"Could any of you kindly direct me to the being known as Ititus, the Sand God?" Thor asked politely, an incredibly bright, deeply terrifying smile touching her lips. "I’m here to kill him."

WHOOSH!

The jagged fracture in the sky of the Secret Realm completely defied the fundamental laws of spatial reality.

It wasn’t a mere portal opening, nor was it a simple magical gateway... It was a literal physical tear in the cosmic fabric of the dimension, a violent wound leaking pure starlight into the pitch-black, destabilized void of the surface dungeon.

The sound of that sky ripping open once again was deafening.

It sounded like the screeching of tearing iron multiplied by a million, a frequency so agonizingly high that the remaining Lords and Heroes on the desert floor had to physically clamp their hands over their bleeding ears just to stop their eardrums from bursting.

Through that rippling violent tear in the heavens, a second figure floated down to join the heavily armored, blonde-haired woman who had just cheerfully introduced herself as Thor, the Daughter of Odin.

It was a Druid.

The woman descended gracefully through the freezing static-charged air, ignoring the apocalyptic destruction surrounding them.

She wore long flowing robes woven from living luminescent green vines and deep ancient brown bark that seemed to actively breathe with a heartbeat of its own.

Her eyes were a glowing, pupil-less white, lacking any sort of mortal emotion and she carried a polished wooden staff carved top-to-bottom with the rigid bureaucratic runes of the Council of Deities.

Her bare feet touched down lightly on the vitrified smoking glass of the crater directly beside Thor.

Wherever her toes made contact with the completely sterilized, superheated desert floor, tiny, impossible shoots of green grass instantly forced their way through the glass, aggressively rewriting the environmental laws of the dead god’s realm.

Her sudden silent appearance completely surprised everybody on the battlefield.

The surviving Lords... already paralyzed by the sheer, unadulterated terror of a divine executioner manifesting before them could only watch in breathless silence.

The Druid immediately raised her wooden staff, her glowing white eyes locking flawlessly onto the towering four-armed beautiful golden sand god standing fifty yards away in the center of the dunes.

"Executioner Thor," the Druid announced, her voice echoing with the dry monotone of a cosmic auditor who had clearly worked a double shift. "Target confirmed... That is the rogue entity known as Ititus."

She pointed a long, wooden finger directly at the Sand God.

Thor casually shifted her weight, resting the heavy iron head of her short-handled war hammer comfortably against her silver-plated shoulder.

Her piercing electrical blue eyes slowly dragged over the towering, luminous golden figure of Ititus.

Sensing the world-ending threat level radiating from the newly arrived Norse deity, Ititus’s paranoia should have violently flared.

He should have dropped to his knees, begged for Council amnesty, or immediately attempted to phase his core into the deepest bedrock of the planet to hide.

But his divine arrogance was a terminal incurable disease.

The Sand God actually puffed out his flawlessly sculpted golden chest.

He used one of his four massive hands to casually run his fingers through his shimmering, spun-glass blonde hair, ensuring he looked absolutely perfect for his impending confrontation.

"I am Ititus!" the Sand God proclaimed loudly, his voice vibrating with narcissistic pride that bordered on the psychotic. "The Sovereign of the Eternal Sands! And as you can clearly see with your own eyes, newcomer, I am undoubtedly one of the most handsom—"

"You look absolutely ridiculous," Thor interrupted him.

Her voice was deadpan, completely lacking any awe, respect, or even basic baseline politeness.

Ititus’s jaw literally dropped. The flowing golden sand of his pristine face froze in outrage at being cut off mid-sentence.

"You are literally just microscopic grains of dirt and sand magically melded together to form a shape," Thor stated bluntly, squinting her blue eyes critically at his glowing meticulously crafted physique as if examining a terribly painted portrait. "It isn’t even real flesh. You look incredibly fake. Honestly, it’s embarrassing... Even the fat, bald-headed men drinking cheap ale in the lowest, filthiest taverns of Asgard look significantly better than you."

Thor aggressively squeezed her flawless face into a deeply unimpressed disgusted grimace, her nose wrinkling in revulsion as if she were looking at a steaming pile of rotting goblin garbage.

The disrespect completely shattered Ititus’s fragile ego.

His flawless golden face violently contorted into a mask of pure, unbridled divine wrath.

The luminous sand making up his broad shoulders began to actively boil and hiss, his four hands clenching into massive fists that cracked the glass beneath his boots.

But before the Sand God could retaliate, before he could even draw a breath to formulate a curse, the true reality of Thor’s physical presence finally settled over the battlefield.

BZZZZZZZT...

The ambient atmospheric pressure in the vicinity violently multiplied.

It didn’t happen gradually. It was an instant, crushing weight that fell from the sky like a descending tectonic plate.

The other Lords and Heroes in the vicinity... Seraphina, Valerius, Elora, Harper, the Spear Lord, and other Lords were completely silent.

They were physically unable to move their bodies.

It wasn’t because they didn’t want to run as their survival instincts were screaming at maximum volume, begging them to sprint for the horizon.

It was strictly because of the suffocating gravitational pressure that was passively leaking out of Thor’s silver armor.

It felt like a ten-ton block of solid, cold iron had been violently dropped directly onto their spines.

The air was so incredibly thick with pure electrical mana that drawing a breath felt like trying to inhale liquid lead.

Harper, a Lightning Lord who had just spent the last hour throwing catastrophic bolts of purple electricity, felt her own Lord core completely shut down.

The purple static in her veins went dead.

She was utterly terrified into complete submission, her knees buckling against the sand as she realized she was standing in the presence of the predator of her own elemental affinity.

Seraphina’s white-hot solar flames died out completely, her Primordial Spirit retreating deep into her soul, refusing to even manifest a single spark in the presence of the Daughter of Odin.

Valerius dropped to his hands and knees with his mythril sword slipping from his numb fingers.

Only one single mortal on the entire battlefield managed to defy the total paralysis.

Silas Graves.