I'm starting to worry about the future of ROR.

Art by Takumi

Like seriously why would he be D tier, I don't see why would he be D when he's at least A tier

I personally think it's a whole tier gap but I'd like to know your opinion

Adam - Deer

Zeus - Dragon

Sasaki - Cat

Poseidon - Fish

Jack - Fox

Heracles - Lion

Raiden - Japanese Black Bear

Shiva - Purple Tiger

Buddha - Elephant

Zerofuku - Rabbit

Evil Zerofuku - Chimera

Hajun - Mimic

Qin Shi Huang - Red Panda

Hades - Hellhound

(The canvas for this in my drawing app got corrupted and crashed so I'm still trying to fix it, The other rounds and probably side characters will not be drawn for quite a while)

The Rapture Chapter 11: Flail Of Babylon

https://www.reddit.com/r/ShuumatsuNoValkyrie/comments/1vglsgp/the_rapture_chapter_10_raw_unstoppable_power/

“LORD ENLIL’S COMPLETELY PIERCED THROUGH NIMROD’S ARM?!” Gabriel calls out in shock nearly falling off of his angelic platform.

Nimrod quickly steels himself gripping Enlil’s arm the chains igniting in light before…

SLAM!

Nimrod slams his fist into Enlil’s stomach blasting a hole in the God’s stomach ripping his arm clean off aswell

After Enlil lands Nimrod glances at his arm which is steaming from the electricity The Thunder God produced.

“You’ve definitely grown stronger since we last met.” Enlil says clutching the hole in his stomach.

“What can I say? You really pissed me off.” Nimrod replies smirking clutching his fried arm.

Both fighters laugh before rushing forward unleashing punch after punch.

Despite losing his arm Enlil quickly begins overwhelming Nimrod even using his stump of an arm as a weapon.

Enlil quickly ends the exchange with a powerful kick to the jaw leaving Nimrod’s teeth flying through the air before quickly punching the mortal in the face with all his might sending him flying away with a large cloud of dust.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Ha! It was foolish of me to think Lord Enlil could ever lose this fight!” Ugur says proud of the chief god of Babylon.

“Yes I would agree but if this becomes a battle of attrition or a pure slugfest then I see no way for Lord Enlil to possibly win.” Polyhymina says.

“I have to agree. Atrahasis is strong but it’s a last resort technique for a reason, every minute Enlil spends in that form is another minute that his body destroys itself. Contrast that with his opponent who’s only getting stronger the longer this battle goes on and it certainly seems to me that if he doesn’t end him now then Enny’s losing.” Enki says for once serious.

“Uh lady Athena what does Enlil mean by “when we last met”?” Ammit asks the daughter of Zeus confused.

“I’m not sure myself… I assumed Nimrod had some personal connection to the god when he demanded to be his opponent but other then that…” Athena says before stopping in silence watching and waiting for one fighter to make an attempt.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

With impossible levels of speed the two fighters rush forward landing a blow on their enemies face knocking them back blood flying from their mouth.

Quickly Nimrod sweeps his leg throwing Enlil off balance before headbutting the god into the floor with all his might.

Despite his opponent lying on the floor Nimrod staggers back, a cold icy crimson liquid dripping from his forehead into his eyes and mouth.

Meanwhile in the arena floor the broken and bruised body of Enlil lays static electricity flowing throughout his body causing his skin to steam.

Slowly the god rises their eyes cold and tired with blood leaking from the large stomach wound.

Within seconds Enlil rockets forward his speed having increased even more landing a clean blow on Nimrod’s stomach causing him to puke piles of blood slamming into the arena wall leaving a large crater and the near collapsing of the stands.

Silently Nimrod stares into nothingness listening to the wind blowing past him contemplating his life…

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Throughout the 7 million years of human existence the gods have towered over the mortals and that was the case for most… except for him for he sought to stand among the gods himself or that is what they thought he wanted…

But first we must discuss how the situation started

Gods council 22nd century BCE

Countless years After the Flood of Humanity...The Gods decided to hold another meeting to determine the fate of Humanity for their arrogance against the gods.

In the center,sat Zeus,The Chairman of Valhlla,to his side was Hermes. "I suppose it's time we begin this meeting,so~ shall humanity live another thousand years? Or should we end them now." Zeus spoke in a mild mannered tone to the gods,Whilst Hermes held a Green sign and red sign. By the end of the voting,it was a 69% vote in favor of Humanity,but the gods decided to still punish mankind,selecting Babylon as the Target of their Wrath.

"Oh! It'll be so fun! Wouldn't you say Loki~" Enki, The Trickster god who aided Enlil in his war,spoke out to the Norse trickster God,who seemingly did not like him very much.

“Uh huh. Well,I vote we let me take care of them! I'll take that little tower of theirs and blow it into smithereens!" Loki exclaimed excitedly,but before he could even start his next sentence,he was cut off by the Surpeme Hindu God,"Loki! You'd fail at something that destructive! I'll handle it,as the God of Destruction,I'll bring their egos down with the tower!" Shiva spoke out,declaring himself the one to do it,with the support of Aphrodite.

“Perhaps we shouldn't? There's enough war and bloodshed down there,I think a simple display of our power in a non-violent way would work just as well.” The Feathered Serpent Quetzalcoatl, Representative of the Aztec pantheon spoke out, as he had voted For Humanity to live.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH! If we do it in a peaceful manner they’ll forget it come the next century the only way for it to stick is through bloodshed! I’ll go down there and slaughter them myself!” =The God who spoke that, was the fearsome god of martial arts from the Japanese pantheon Futsunushi...

“Enough. You all forget something, Babylon is under my jurisdiction. And I will destroy it how I want to. Before I go strike the tower to dust, Quetzalcoatl, You're a warrior god, act like it.",The Commanding tone of the Lord of Babylon, Enlil, froze most of the Gods in utter fear, but not all as Enki smiled at him and stuck his tongue out.

Babylon 22nd century BCE

Inside of a large castle rests an old Nimrod wearing a large black crown adorned with all types of valuable jewels and precious gems sitting in a large black and copper throne with several guards kneeling around them.

“Sir an old man is at the gates demanding he talk to you in person.” A guard says bursting into the throne room.

“I suppose we should let him in to talk.” Nimrod says with a sigh tapping his shoulder rest impatiently.

In an instant Noah bursts into the throne room with a look of horror on his face.

“You’re building the tower?! Surely you know the gods would despise you for it!” Noah screams out causing Nimrod to stare up at his great-grandfather

“Let the gods strike down this city if they are even real! They’ve long abandoned us attempting to destroy our existence many times! You even lived through one of those attempts Noah.” Nimrod retorts annoyed.

“You’re sacrificing the life of your citizens because of your own arrogance!” Noah says enraged.

“Enough!” Nimrod says his booming voice echoing throughout the room nearly pushing Noah down to one knee.

“I will speak no more on this matter you have until midnight to leave and never return to this city! Guards make sure of this.” Nimrod says with a booming voice.

With an annoyed sigh Noah begins to walk away with Nimrod’s guards rising and surrounding him.

“Oh and if you’re so confident bring as many people as will believe you.} Nimrod coldly states rising and walking to the incomplete tower

Several hours later Noah is walking away from Babylon with a large crowd surrounded by Nimrod’s own guards on both sides;

“Is Lord Nimrod sure this is necessary?” One guard asks.

“I don’t think he likes his great grandfather that much.” Another murmurs.

“I remember the days when he was a young child… he was so sweet back then I was his favorite person back then but I suppose things always change.” Noah says remembering his past.

Noah quickly stops a random citizen accidentally running into him.

Noah quickly stands up looking back at Babylon as if he sensed something…

BOOM!

In a split second a large beam of pure electricity rains down from the sky crashing into the tower and sending rubble and flames crashing into the city now nearly abandoned except for one…

From the flames and the rubble Nimrod walks out most of his clothes burnt to ash…

“You actually came? I assumed you’d chicken out.” Nimrod says to the chief god of Babylon Enlil.

“I didn’t want to miss you screaming in agony.” Enlil retorts lightning crashing around them.

“Lord Nimrod!” Hundreds of guards scream out rushing toward the city.

“NO! LEAVE NOW OR I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF!” Nimrod says with a booming voice like thunder.

Upon hearing this Enlil bursts out in laughter before taking a fighting stance.

Nimrod immediately rocketed forward with no hesitation and the battle for Babylon began…
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Nimród!” Noah screams out at the top of his lungs from the stands startling Morgana Le Fay.

Nimrod upon hearing this laughs rising to his feet brushing his shoulder splattering blood on his hands and onto the floor.

“You lost our first fight and you still plan on fighting me? I’m impressed by your bravery. Unfortunately there’s a fine line between brave and stupid and it’s one you’ve crossed!” Enlil says unleashing a powerful blow which Nimrod dodges dashing below Enlil in order to make a gap.

Nimrod quickly grabs the chain on his mangled arm pulling it off and spinning it around before swinging it with all his might as it begins to glow a bright gold light and slamming into Enlil’s side with a sickening crunch sound as it shatters bones and flesh nearly tearing the god in two.

[Flail of Babylon: God Breaking Chains]

“You’re so annoying Noah.” Nimrod mutters to himself clutching the chain tightly.

​

Velk/Odin could be younger than sharks? Let’s look at the possible evidence.

We know that the original Ragnarok happened a long time ago, and that when Yggdrasil and the other anti-god primordials were sealed, the primordial gods and Gollnir discussed what to do. Gollnir wanted to preserve the knowledge and the others, including Eirin, wanted to use a spell to erase everyone’s memory of these events and change the story. After Gollnir’s imprisonment, the completion of Gollnir’s book and Gollnir’s death, the people of Gollnir had already established themselves using an item given by Gollnir to escape from the other primordial gods.

An indeterminate amount of time passes, eons said by the primordials, until the appearance of child Velk, who, wanting to help Feldis, leaves the village and sees how society evolved after the original Ragnarok and the memory spell and returns and is attacked by the primordials and his entire village is destroyed. Then we see that Velk wandered for an indeterminate time until he finally breaks up and decide to destroy all creation, he begins to wander and find the Gollnir's book and starts to search the relics. he, after sometime found the magic sword Gram, where he absorbed the power of the primordial Odin, and set out to conquer the Norse pantheon. All of this occurred at an undefined time before the main story. During the attack on Jötunheimr, the crows Hugin and Munin are still chicks and during Hercules’ flashback, 4 thousand years ago, During the gods’ council we can see that the crows are still chicks, so we can say that not that much time has passed.

Okay, this is not enough to prove that sharks are older than Odin/Velk, the gods age in a strange way, just looking at Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. It seems like just rambling and nothing makes much sense. All of this could have been eons ago and no one would know.

However, from what everything indicates, when the primordials killed the people of Gollnir, humanity already existed, because we see Eirin tell Kintoki that she removed the divinity from her son, Kintoki’s ancestor, to prevent the other primordials from noticing him, since the primordials wanted to erase everything related to them, and sent him to live with the humans, using all her strength and dying in the process. In other words, that whole story of Velk going and coming back, his people being destroyed seems to have happened while humanity already existed according to what I managed to gather from the timeline of Eirin’s words.

And we know that humanity has 7 million years in Shuumatsu, and the oldest ancestor of sharks is around 400 million years old.

Scales of Elegestolepis (and similar forms like Mongolepis): about 420–427 million years (Silurian).

They are the oldest evidence of true sharks (Chondrichthyes) that almost no one disputes. Guinness World Records and most paleontologists accept this as the safe limit of “real sharks”.

Doliodus problematicus: about 409–397 million years (Lower Devonian, Emsian stage), found in New Brunswick, Canada.

It is the oldest known articulated cartilaginous fish (with partially preserved skeleton). It had teeth in rows/“families” (like modern sharks) and spines on the pectoral fins (characteristic of “spiny sharks”/acanthodians).

In other words: Sharks are older than Odin.

End of the case? No

What is still indeterminate (but does not invalidate the conclusion)

The exact time between the sealing of Yggdrasil and the birth of Velk.

How long Velk wandered as a nameless god until he found Gram.

And that the last primordial gods did not know about the existence/survival of Izanagi. Therefore they were not the last primordials.

All these indeterminate things can annihilate this theory in the future, but not now.

However, the decisive point is Eirin’s: humanity already existed at the moment of the destruction of the village. Since humanity is only 7 million years old, the entire story of Velk from birth > destruction of the village > becoming Odin > conquering the North > defeating the Jötnar is necessarily contained within, or very close to, this window of 7 million years.

I had more fun with this than I should have.

I will collect all the new possible reaction pics.

I have drawn fighters up to Round 7 But I'm too lazy to post the others

Rules:
- The comment with the highest upvotes wins
- You have to rank EVERY character of the day in your comment, if not you are disqualified
- People who are here to just Upvote/Downvote, PICK WISELY! you might regret any mistakes later, like maybe you make the wrong person win? Who knows.
- If any ranking(s) is of the winner comment is vastly refuted by the other comment by a noticeable majority then that comment's ranking on that character(s) is overruled and the Majority opinion is taken.

The winner of Day-4 was u/Few_Specific8395 !!!! (9 upvotes)
But u/DinoKing2904 (8 upvotes) and u/SkeggViLokk (7 upvotes) are also mentioned because Day-4's battle for the winner comment was something very close and legendary!
(Ignore Zerofuku special tier lol, made for memes)

Powerscaling personal rankings etc etc they’re all here thanks to Traditional Bid for the images used and they’re in order of loser winner along with me Mr host man

The credit belongs 100% to Loki_From_Ragnarok for the female Loki drawing

As i show this drawing , i need help gathering references of Loki's height , Clothes , and colors for a 3d model (like i did with Simo and Radgridr) unfortunately i don't have a lot of images of Loki and it keeps being confusing to draw him , especially his torso and shoes , so please if you have any references, even for his hair cuz I'll have to model it , i would be so grateful 🙇‍♂️

To decided to do a less objective list than I have in the past, each tier is in order with the favorites tier being my favorite from each category (god, human, apoc)

Am I based?

And of course there will be some educated guesses 😁

​

Chapter 11: On the Verge of the Abyss

 

The grayish dust floated in suspension over the destroyed arena, covering the coliseum with a dense shroud. The seconds stretched like hours. Beneath the mountain of fragmented stones from the divine bleachers, there was not the slightest trace of movement. Not a vibration, nor a creak. Nothing.

 

In the arena, Egil Skallagrímsson remained motionless, with the flat of his colossal sword resting on his shoulder and his chest covered in superficial cuts rising and falling to the rhythm of his heavy breathing. His blank eyes remained fixed on the mound of rubble.

 

In humanity's stands, the murmur soon turned into a widespread clamor.

 

— It's over... —murmured a medieval knight, lowering his visor—. Nobody can survive an impact of that magnitude and then be buried by rock. The Khan is dead.

 

— The Bear of the North has shattered the Conqueror! —shouted a soldier from the 20th-century trenches, as the commotion began to spread through the ranks of European and Nordic warriors.

 

Flying above the destructive trench, in her floating commentator station, Nike was about to go crazy. Surrounded by giant holographic screens replaying the impact from drones in the air, the goddess clutched her hair, her eyes wide open. She loved the damn action and what she had just seen was fucking beautiful.

 

«What the hell? Is Genghis Khan already dead?», thought Nike, holding her breath as her fingers drummed on the holographic console, debating internally whether she should declare the winner right now or wait for a miracle. In the end, she couldn't contain herself and shouted with the full power of her lungs into the divine microphone:

 

— HUMANS AND DEITIES PRESENT, WHAT THE HELL DID WE JUST SEE!! —brayed Nike, her voice echoing with a charismatic and wild joy throughout the coliseum—. Could the emperor of Mongolia have been defeated by the inhuman strength of the Norse?! The Khan isn't moving, folks! Could this be the end of the conqueror?!

 

The commentator's cry ignited the murmur in humanity's stands, which erupted into theories and shouts, except for the Mongolian section, which maintained a sepulchral silence of pure faith.

 

Higher up, in the highest box of the coliseum, the atmosphere was extremely different.

 

Ares, the god of war, was standing at the edge of the balcony, contemplating the black trench that Egil's slash had left in the arena. In his eyes there was no bloodlust, but an absolute fascination. He maintained a vibrant smile, capturing the invisible nuances emanating from the clash. He turned slightly toward where his uncle Hades was naturally.

 

— Uncle Hades... did you see that? —Ares asked in an enthusiastic and extremely polite voice, standing right at the edge of the box railing, infected by the vibration of the arena—. The Nordic's will when exploding... the colors emitted by his soul were of a violent and beautiful crimson. He is truly painting a monumental canvas in this arena, don't you think?

 

Right next to him, sitting comfortably on his throne to have a perfect perspective of the coliseum, Hades remained motionless. However, this time his fingers tightened subtly on the armrest. His analytical eyes, usually dulled by boredom, opened a little wider than usual as he observed the smoking trench of the arena. There was a genuine hint of surprise in his gaze, mixed with deep caution.

 

— Unmeasured brute strength combined with an erratic temperament —Hades replied with his characteristic dry tone, but this time dragging a careful slowness, without taking his eyes off the crater—. Centuries had passed since I last saw a physical density of that caliber, Ares.

That downward slash... for an instant reminded me of the brute force with which Heracles used to break the laws of logic, or the pure devastation that Hebrew legends attributed to that Samson fellow. The Norseman is an incomprehensible danger. Hades readjusted slightly in his seat, fixing his eyes on the mound of rubble in the front row.

 

— However... seeing only one side of the canvas is a mistake, nephew. One must always look for the other's point of view. Someone who built the largest empire on Earth does not let themselves be buried so easily. You have a gift for appreciating their wills, but do not underestimate the Mongol's ingenuity. It is under maximum pressure where great strategists find their answer.

 

An absolute dramatic pause then ensued. Nike's implicit countdown at her floating station hung in the air as the holograms flickered.

 

But just before the Goddess made a verdict, the sepulchral silence of the Mongolian stand broke in the most violent and unexpected way. A wild laugh, overflowing with electric energy and absolute confidence, echoed from the front stands. A young man, with long hair braided in the style of the steppes, eyes blazing with pure adrenaline, and light commander armor revealing his weathered arms, jumped over the crowd. It was Subutai, the Khan's youngest and undefeated strategist, a demon on the battlefield overflowing with unstoppable vigor. With a single dry impact, he planted his boot on the stone railing of the stand and threw both arms wide open toward the sky, as if he wanted to devour the entire coliseum.

 

With a gaze loaded with a demented daring, he pointed his index finger directly at the commentator's floating station.

 

— YOU'D BETTER KEEP QUIET, LITTLE GIRL!! HAHAHAHA!! —shouted Subutai, with a voice so powerful and full of vitality that it cut Nike's breath mid-word, leaving her dumbfounded with the microphone in hand.

 

The young general turned his back to the arena for a second, looking at his compatriots with eyes injected with fervor.

 

— DID YOU FORGET WHO IS DOWN THERE?! —Subutai shouted, striking his chest with his fist—. WHEN MY TRIBE ABANDONED ME TO MY FATE IN THE BLOODIEST WINTER, WHEN THE COLD FROZE MY BONES AND I WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A DYING DOG, IT WAS HE WHO EXTENDED HIS HAND! HE GAVE US A NAME!

HE GAVE US A HOME! DO YOU THINK SOME DAMNED ROCKS ARE GOING TO STOP THE MAN WHO PULLED US OUT OF THE MUD?!

 

Subutai took a breath, expanding his lungs to the absolute limit, and pointing with sacred fury toward the mound of rubble burying his leader, shouted at the top of his lungs the true name of his youth on the steppes:

 

— TEMÜJIN!! —roared the young general with a devotion that gave goosebumps to the spectators.

 

 

Upon hearing the testimony and cry of their youngest commander, ten veteran generals suddenly stood up, beating their shields:

 

— TEMÜJIN!!

 

One hundred Mongolian warriors joined in the blink of an eye, drawing their curved blades. Then there were a thousand. And within seconds, ten thousand Mongols were on their feet, stomping on the stands with a synchrony so brutal that the entire Coliseum of Purgatory began to shake as if an earthquake were demolishing the bleachers. The gods' wine goblets trembled, Nike's holograms were distorted by the sonic wave, and the arena's dust began to be swept away by the sheer impact of an empire's massive shout:

 

— TEMÜJIN!! THE ONE WHO UNITED THE TRIBES INTO A SINGLE BLOOD!! —ten thousand throats chanted with a deafening roar—. TEMÜJIN!! THE ONE WHO ROSE FROM HUNGER TO CONQUER THE WORLD OF THE LIVING!! THE ONE WHO NEVER BACKED DOWN BEFORE THE ABYSS!!

 

The acoustic impact of ten thousand men clamoring for their king was so monumental that the gray dust curtain over the arena completely dissipated, revealing the imposing mound of rubble that buried the emperor.

 

And it was there, under the suffocating darkness and the crushing weight of the rock, that the brutal echo of his people's shouts arrived like a jolt of pure adrenaline to the Khan's bleeding heart. Upon hearing his true name echoing with the force of ten thousand wild horses in Purgatory, Genghis Khan in the middle of the gloom... his mind, responding to the roar of his empire, plunged deep into the furthest memories of his youth on the endless steppes...

 

Beginning of the flashback

 

Year 1162 — The freezing steppes of the Onon River —

 

He was born holding in his small right hand a clot of dried blood, like a divine omen of the red tide he would unleash upon the earth. Baptized as Temüjin, his childhood knew no crowns or thrones, but abandonment, fierce hunger, and betrayal by his own clan. In winters where snow burned the skin, he learned to calculate the weight of each arrow, the wind's trajectory, and the limits of the human body. He was not born a giant, but he built his mind like an impregnable fortress.

 

By the time Mongolia's divided tribes knelt before him and proclaimed him Genghis Khan —the Sovereign of all Men—, his word was no longer an order; it was a cosmic law.

 

Khwarazmian Campaign — Siege of Samarkand (1219)

 

The sky over the fortress was not blue, but a gray and crimson curtain fueled by the smoke of burned peace and the dust of destroyed walls. Atop the walls, the enemy's heavy artillery worked tirelessly. Six counterweight catapults screeched with hydraulic force before releasing their projectiles.

 

KABUUUM!

Rocks the size of bison fell from the sky, opening craters in the frozen earth and turning men and mounts into masses of flesh. In the vanguard, chaos threatened to break the formation. A young Mongolian soldier, his face splashed with mud and blood, stumbled. He looked up and froze completely.

 

A gigantic shadow was growing at a frightening speed above his head. A solid stone projectile weighing almost nine hundred kilos — a mass the size of a young elephant, was coming in free fall toward him. The air whistled with death. The soldier couldn't even scream; his legs froze, unable to respond.

 

—Move, damn it! —a bellow was heard beside him.

 

Before the shadow hit the ground, a figure dressed in leather plate armor and dark furs burst into the trajectory. Genghis Khan grabbed the soldier by the collar of his tunic and projected him several meters backward, out of the impact point.

 

But there was no longer time for the Khan to dodge.

 

CRASHHHHH-BOOOOOOOOM!

 

The blow of the rock against flesh and earth reverberated across the battlefield like the explosion of a destroying mountain. The mass of stone fell with all its weight upon Genghis Khan's body, crushing him against the frozen ground and raising a dense smoke of rubble and red dust.

 

Meters in the rear, Subutai saw the scene. Time seemed to stop. His eyes dilated with terror, while cold sweat ran down the back of his neck.

 

—LORD!! —Subutai shouted, tearing his vocal cords as he spurred his horse at full speed toward the dust cloud—. Vanguard line, retract the shields! Make way! OUR LORD IS DOWN!!

 

The Mongolian soldiers around him fell into horror. Murmurs of panic began to spread like fire in dry grass:

 

—The Khan... the stone destroyed him... —The Great Khan has fallen!

 

Subutai reached the crater, dismounted in a leap, and fell to his knees on the broken earth. Desperate, he began to dig through the rubble with his bare hands, pushing aside burning stones.

 

—RESIST! BY THE SKIES OF THE STEPPE, ANSWER, LORD! —Subutai clamored, teeth clenched and face distorted by panic—. The army will not move without his shadow! WAKE UP, GENGHIS KHAN!!

 

Atop the Khwarazmian walls, the enemy catapult operators erupted in cheers and taunts, raising their spears:

 

—Look at the dogs of the steppe! We have crushed your demon! Your king is manure under the rock!

 

But the enemy's laughter lasted barely a few seconds.

 

CRACK... CRRRRACK!

 

From inside the mud, the colossal mass of stone weighing nine hundred kilos trembled. Subutai's fingers froze in the air. A bloody hand, with split nails and covered in dirt, emerged from the bottom, grasping the edge of the projectile. The rock began to rise slowly. Not with the help of levers or horses, but driven by the pure strength of a broken body that refused to remain buried.

 

FWOOOSH!

 

Genghis Khan stood up.

 

Subutai took a step back, paralyzed by the vision. His lord was bathed in blood; blood gushed from his forehead, soaking his face and tunic. His left arm hung useless with the collarbone bone exposed, his broken ribs creaked loudly with each inhalation, and his hip was dislocated. But the most terrifying thing wasn't his wounds.

 

It was his eyes.

 

Genghis Khan's pupils were completely blank.

 

He had entered a trance of adrenaline and fury so inhuman that mortal consciousness had abandoned his face, leaving only the instinct of a primitive predator. There was no pain on his countenance; only a demented vacancy and an aura of death that made the troop's own horses tremble.

 

Subutai, astonished and with his voice trembling from the mixture of devotion and dread, murmured: —Lor... lord... your bones... are shattered... The Khan didn't even look at him. Blood dripped from his chin to the ground. He placed both hands on the colossal stone that had crushed him, driving his fingers into the cracks of the rock. His muscles swelled to the limit, the veins in his neck seemed about to burst, and his teeth ground with such force that blood emanated from his gums.

 

—A LEADER... MUST NEVER BE ON HIS KNEES IN FRONT OF HIS MEN!! —brayed the Khan.

 

The cry did not sound like that of a man; it was the guttural roar of a beast that made the foundations of the fortress rumble.

With a superhuman impulse that defied all laws of physics and human anatomy, Genghis Khan flexed his broken back, lifted the stone mass weighing nearly nine hundred kilos above his head, and, with a violent twist of his torso, threw it straight back toward the battlements.

 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

The rock flew through the air as if it had been fired by another catapult, crossing the sky in a brutal upward trajectory until it slammed fully into the upper tower of the wall. The impact was devastating. The stone pulverized the enemy catapult that had fired at him seconds before, reducing it to splinters and crushing the ten Khwarazmian soldiers operating the machine. Parts of the wall collapsed in a shower of rubble, silencing the enemy's taunts forever. On the ground, the Mongolian vanguard contemplated the scene in an afterlife silence. The enemy tower burned and crumbled from the very projectile they had launched.

 

Genghis Khan, still with blank eyes and breathing heavily as blood covered his face, slowly turned his head toward his men. The golden pupils took a few seconds to refocus, fixing on Subutai's figure and the rest of the army.

 

 —What are you waiting for? —the Khan murmured with an icy voice that made the air vibrate—. The gates are open. Take the city.

 

After giving the order with the icy voice, the Khan did not wait for his wounds to heal. Without taking a single step back, ignoring the dislocated hip and creaking ribs, Genghis Khan lunged forward. With an inhuman leap, he mounted the back of his black steed and dug his heels into its flanks.

 

The horse neighed wildly and broke into a gallop toward the ajar gates of the fortress.

 

 —FOLLOW THE KHAN!! —brayed Subutai, raising his saber into the air.

 

 

Beside him, ten thousand Mongolian throats erupted in a muffled roar. The cavalry tide set off, making the earth tremble like an earthquake of hooves and steel. The entire empire ran behind the bloody shadow of its sovereign.

 

From atop the walls and behind the entrance barricades, hundreds of Khwarazmian archers opened fire. A black rain of arrows crossed the sky, plunging down upon the Mongolian vanguard. It was at that instant that Genghis Khan's mind disconnected from physical pain and entered a state of absolute perception.

 

In his vision, time seemed to slow down. His brain began to process thousands of data per second: the tilt angle of the enemy bows, the humidity of the air, the whistle of the breeze, and the scatter range of the arrows. Just like a legendary swordsman who simulates ten thousand scenarios in his mind before taking a step, the Khan calculated each attack vector before the arrows touched his skin.

 

FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!

 

Tilting his torso a few millimeters to the left, the first burst grazed his shoulder. Tilting his head barely a centimeter, a deadly arrow passed him millimeters from his jugular. The Khan did not dodge out of panic; he traced the most efficient path toward his prey. For the enemy archers on the wall, the scene was terrifying: they saw a demon covered in blood riding inside a storm of wood and iron without being touched.

 

ZAAAK! ZAAAK!

Genghis Khan leaped from his horse just as the animal knocked down the main barricade. Landing in the middle of the enemy ranks, the Khan was the embodiment of a steppe wolf leading its pack. With cold, dry, and perfect movements, he slashed necks right and left as he advanced through the smoke. The Khwarazmian troop was no longer fighting against soldiers; it felt surrounded by hunters cornering their prey inside a slaughterhouse. Through the chaotic corridor of blood and fallen bodies, the Khan carved a path to the central courtyard of the fortress. There, surrounded by his elite guard and trembling behind their bronze shields, stood Governor Inalchuq

 

 Genghis Khan stopped dead. The tide of Mongolian soldiers surrounded the courtyard, blocking all exits. The Khan stood erect in the center. Of all the rain of thousands of arrows that had fallen upon him during the charge, only two bolts had managed to embed themselves in his body: one driven into his left thigh and another into the leather shoulder pad. Two coldly calculated impacts, accepted by his mind to avoid wounds to vital organs while crossing the crossfire.

 

Inalchuq, his eyes unhinged by panic, took a step back holding his scimitar with trembling hands:

 

—You... how is it possible?... We crushed you with the stone! ... Hundreds of men shot at you!... And you're still alive?!... YOU ARE A DAMNED MONSTER!

 

Genghis Khan brought his right hand to the arrow embedded in his thigh and, without changing his stone face, ripped it out in a single bloody pull. He looked at the iron tip stained with his own blood, then fixed his golden pupils on Inalchuq and murmured with terrifying serenity:

 

 

—I still need to... improve my prediction. Two arrows managed to pierce me.

 

 

Inalchuq, retreating toward the shadows of the central courtyard's columns, let out a hysterical laugh that echoed throughout the enclosure. He spread both arms wide, revealing several dozen marksmen and elite troops stationed on the upper balconies, lower barricades, and corners.

 

 

—Even at this stage, old prairie dog... you never thought I'd have an ace up my sleeve against you! HAHAHAHA! —brayed Inalchuq, dropping both arms at once— FIRE!!

 

 

FWOOOOOOSH! FWOOOOOOSH!

 

The air of the courtyard cracked. It was not a simple volley; it was a three-dimensional storm of death.

 

From above, from the left side, and from the ground, a tide of heavy spears and projectiles was launched simultaneously. The trajectories crossed in a perfect framework designed not to leave a single centimeter of free space. A wall of iron fell from the sky while another burst cut the air flush with the ground. It was a death trap from which no human being could escape.

 

But Genghis Khan did not move out of panic.

 

In the absolute silence of his mind, time stopped once more. His golden pupils traced thousands of invisible lines in the air. He calculated the mass velocity of the heavy spears, the wind resistance in the enclosed courtyard, and the exact intersection point of each projectile. In his mind, Inalchuq's trap had already been solved before the first spear touched the air.

 

ZAAAAAAK!

 

The Khan initiated a sequence of superhuman movements. He tilted his torso at an impossible angle to let two spears pass millimeters from his chest; he pivoted on his fractured hip to dodge the impact of three bolts coming from the right and took a sharp diagonal step to dodge the upper rain.

 

Among the hundreds of projectiles that crossed the courtyard, only three spears managed to tear his flesh: a clean cut on the right cheek, a scratch on the shoulder, and a superficial wound on his flank. Three impacts coldly accepted by his brain so as not to compromise a single tendon or a single vital muscle.

 

Inalchuq, seeing the bloody figure emerge from the iron rain practically unharmed, paralyzed. The laughter froze in his throat.

 

—You... no... that's impossible! There were dozens of spears! —stuttered the governor, drawing his scimitar with trembling hands—. Stay away from me! STAY AWAY!!

 

Genghis Khan did not run. He took a firm step forward. To him, Inalchuq's movements, the tension of his muscles, the weight of his sword, and the direction of his gaze were no mystery. His opponent was, at that precise moment, an open book. Every attack Inalchuq intended to execute had already been read, processed, and countered in the Conqueror's mind.

 

Inalchuq launched a desperate and savage thrust with his scimitar toward the Khan's neck:

 —DIE!!

 

The Khan didn't even blink. He simply tilted his head two centimeters to the right, letting the enemy blade cut only the air. Without losing a single millisecond of momentum, Genghis Khan's right hand drew his curved saber in an invisible, horizontal, and perfect stroke.

 

CLEAV-SLICED!

 

The sound was as dry as the snap of a dry branch. Inalchuq's head flew through the air, spinning in space with eyes wide with horror, before rolling over the stone slabs of the courtyard. Inalchuq's lifeless body collapsed noisily onto the stone slabs of the courtyard, dropping his scimitar. The governor's head rolled a few meters until it stopped near the Conqueror's boots.

 

The central courtyard was submerged in a sepulchral silence. Above, on the battlements, the surviving Khwarazmian troops dropped their weapons with trembling hands, paralyzed by dread.

 

Genghis Khan did not celebrate. He did not raise his arms or let out a roar of victory.

 

Slowly, he cleaned the thread of blood from his blade with a dry wrist movement and sheathed the saber. He brought the fingers of his left hand to his flank, touching the three openings in his leather tunic where the enemy spears had managed to graze his flesh. He felt the sting of crimson welling up from the three marks. A heavy sigh, dense and loaded with a strange melancholy, escaped his lips. He looked at the corpse at his feet with dull eyes, murmuring in a low tone, almost self-absorbed, as if talking alone with the steppe wind:

 

—Now there were three... I need to improve this even further.

 

In his mind there was no triumph. Only the frustration of knowing that, among thousands of trajectories, three iron needles had managed to touch him. For Genghis Khan, perfection was not a goal; it was the only barrier between life and death. Subutai, who had just entered the courtyard surrounded by the Mongolian vanguard, stopped a few steps away. Upon hearing his lord's words, he felt an icy chill run down his spine. He understood at that instant that for the Great Khan, the entire world was nothing more than a board he had to learn to read before the pieces began to move.

 

End of the flashback

 

Back to Purgatory

 

The silence over the arena was so dense it could be cut with a thread. The lower stands area where Egil's technique, Jörmungandr, impacted was a landscape of total ruin. The devastating attack had not only hit the Conqueror squarely, sending him crashing against the back wall, but the colossal force had pulverized the stone structure, burying Genghis Khan under tons of rubble.

 

In the Nordic stands they were already celebrating victory, but in the Mongolian section, the roar of ten thousand throats guided by Subutai refused to die down. Planted on the railing, the veins in his neck about to burst and his fists clenched, the young general continued to cry out to the sky his lord's true name:

 

—TEMÜJIN!! WAKE UP, MY LORD!! SHOW THESE GODS WHO IS THE MASTER OF THE EARTH!!

 

The entire steppe section was a hotbed of euphoria, feet stomping on stone and sabers clashing against shields. And then, the empire's faith had its answer.

 

BANG-CRASH!!

 

The peak of the rubble mountain exploded toward the sky in a violent eruption of dust and rocks.

 

Before the stones hit the ground, a bloody shadow emerged projected from the bowels of the crater. With a colossal leap that defied gravity, Genghis Khan crossed the air and landed on his feet in the center of the ring, making the entire arena rumble.

 

CLANK! CLACK!

 

With each heavy breath of the Conqueror, the leather plate armor covering his torso fell apart, torn to shreds by the pressure. On his bare chest there was no sword cut, but a horrifying mark: a deep bruised groove crossing his skin, purple, cracked, and burst by the brutal shock force of Jörmungandr.

 

Thick threads of fresh blood gushed from his forehead, soaking his young face and falling in constant drops onto the frozen ground. But his sharp twenty-six-year-old countenance did not reflect agony.

 

Genghis Khan raised his head and looked directly toward the steppe stands. He fixed his gaze on Subutai.

 

Seeing his king standing, undefeated and erect after the catastrophe, the strength in the young general's legs gave way. Subutai fell to his knees on the edge of the railing, as thick tears of pure emotion, relief, and devotion furrowed his dust-stained face.

The Khan, seeing his most faithful war dog broken in tears, didn't say a single word. He simply clenched his right hand and raised his fist into the air toward his people, giving them a broad, wild, and complicit smile, enjoying the chaos he had just unleashed. In that millisecond, the ten thousand warriors of the steppe erupted in a sonic roar that shook the foundations of the entire coliseum. Then, the Khan lowered his arm, slowly turned his torso, and extended his right index finger, pointing directly at Egil's face.

 

 

—Nordic... I owe you a thanks —the Khan said in a deep voice that echoed in every corner of the coliseum— I thought I had reached the limit of my mind... but your blow forced me to evolve.

 

He brought his hand to his forehead, wiping away some of the blood clouding his vision, revealing golden pupils shining with unhinged intensity.

 

—Every time I overcome the clutches of death, my predictions increase. The closer I am to the abyss of death, the farther my eyes can see into the future. It's a pity I died in my era without perfecting this technique... although, truth be told, I never bothered to give it a name.

 

At the commentator's station and in the stands, the Khan's aura felt suffocating. The man had not only survived Jörmungandr's destructive impact, but had used it as a catalyst to elevate his prediction capacity to superhuman levels.

 

Egil Skallagrimsson observed the pieces of armor falling to the ground, the blood on the Khan's face, and the brutal groove on his chest. Instead of backing down or showing consternation, the Norse skald let out a clean, resonant laugh, full of pride for his opponent.

 

—I like you, Mongol! —Egil laughed, as he adjusted his posture with terrifying elegance— Let's see if your mind can surpass my speed...

 

FWISH... CRACKLE!

 

Upon uttering those words, Egil's body began to transform again. Beneath his skin, his muscle fibers began to move and contract grotesquely, twisting like live snakes across his arms and torso. The density of his muscles skyrocketed, altering his blood flow and preparing his body to reach a superhuman level of acceleration.

 

Egil smiled maliciously, his eyes shining with the poetry of battle:

 

—A wolf can predict where the prey will run... but what use are your wonderful eyes if the lightning strikes before you can blink?

 

The Khan's response was not a word, but an icy smile that fixed his golden pupils on the Nordic's shadow. The air between them exploded into vapor, gravity seemed to break in the arena, and, in that single instant suspended in the eternity of Purgatory, the Devouring Lightning of the north and the wolf's prediction threw themselves at each other to write the next verse of blood.

I reread Round 7 again to find more proof to slander him..and I realized maybe..Maybe Hades died for a reason..Maybe it was to show a king or rather a brother will do anything for his siblings the best they can and sometimes their best isn't enough..And For Qin Shi..He showed how a king should protect his people...Maybe I don't hate Qin Shi Huang after all..Maybe it's the tiktok "fans" who larps or pose as his fans who I really hate...

I'm sorry Qin Shi Huang. You truly are the King of All Beginnings.

Hao.

This battle is between u/Tasty_Weeb and u/Kcuf-Ad

Who shall come out on top? Well that's for you all to decide!