"No wonder Luni said there've been so many souls entering the First Prison lately…""So it was your handiwork all along."
The figure who appeared upon the blooming path of mandalas was none other than Quinn, the Mandala Flower Saint from the Omen Star.
Her crimson bangs framed a cold, beautiful face. She wore a black surplice that shimmered faintly in the dark, and in her slender hand, she held a single white mandala flower—its petals glowing softly under her Cosmos.
Before her stood the Venerable Skyhammer, known to mortals as Mok, the Fallen Believer.
His divine weapon, like the petrifying gaze of the Silver Saint Medusa, could turn anything it touched into stone. Neither superheroes nor armies could withstand the divine power granted to him by the Serpent King.
That same cursed energy had turned all of Paris into a graveyard of stone.
Yet, when Quinn appeared, Mok's twisted grin returned.
Another human. Another superhero.Another source of fear to feed upon — power for his god, and strength for himself.
"Jie-jie-jie…"
A shrill laugh escaped Mok's mouth. Quinn frowned, tapping her ear in irritation as if to clear away the noise.
"That laugh is grating."
And then — the killing intent hit.
Like a wave of pressure, it rippled from Mok's body.Quinn stood calmly, her expression unchanged. She didn't even bother to raise her hands.
Mok lunged forward, divine energy roaring around him. His massive hammer swung down, shattering nearby buildings in its wake.
And then—
Clang!!!
A thunderous impact rang out.
The sound was sharp, metallic—almost pleasant, like striking fine steel.
Except… it wasn't her head that cracked.
Quinn had caught the Skyhammer with one hand. Effortlessly.
A surge of black Cosmos erupted from her palm, sending Mok flying backward with explosive force.
"You dare lay a hand on a Venerable of the Skyhammer?!" Mok shouted, enraged.
As he crashed to the ground, the clouds above Paris began to thin. Hidden survivors peered cautiously from the shadows — witnessing the impossible.
The source of their fear… was fading.
"No!" Mok roared. "Damn you, human! How dare you dispel my fear energy!"
His divine power faltered. He could feel the stolen terror leaking from his body. Gritting his teeth, he retrieved his warhammer and glared at the Omen Star warrior before him.
Quinn's voice was calm, almost bored.
"If I were you… I'd step away from my flowers."
The white mandala in her hand began to darken, its petals absorbing the aura of her Cosmos.
Mok didn't understand her words — nor did he care.
He raised his hammer again and chanted in an ancient tongue:
"I am Mok the Faithless, one of the Eight Skyhammer Venerables under His Majesty the Serpent! Any mortal who dares hinder the Serpent's awakening will meet only death!"
His body surged with divine might. The hammer gleamed with foul, otherworldly light as he rushed forward once more, tearing through the air and dragging a trail of destruction across the ruined street.
Everywhere he passed, buildings crumbled, the earth split open, and the very air turned to stone.
But pity…
He was not fighting a human.
Who told him Underworld Saints were human?Had he even bothered to learn his opponent's identity before the battle?
Poor fool. Poor Mok.
The hammer fell again.
Quinn sighed, lifting her hand slowly.
"I warned you. If you were smart, you'd have stayed off the flowers."
Too late.
A beam of black light shone from her fingertip, stopping the massive hammer in midair.
The next instant, the force of her Cosmos tore through the weapon and struck Mok square in the chest.
The divine power of the Serpent was overwhelmed—crushed by the dark radiance of Hades' blood.
Boom!!!
Mok was hurled backward, crashing through the ruins.
Quinn's voice was soft but cold.
"Luni asked me to tell you this: because of you, the Underworld's workload has tripled. He hasn't even had time to come topside lately…"
She smiled faintly.
"So…"
"Go to hell."
Before Mok could even react, his body split cleanly in two.His consciousness flickered, unable to grasp what had happened.The divine energy in his veins dissipated into nothing.
Bang!!!
Mok, the Fallen Believer, was no more.
Another Skyhammer Venerable had fallen — without even understanding how he died.
The shadow of his presence vanished from the air. His massive hammer fell with a dull thud, lying silently on the ground, awaiting a new master who would never come.
But the warriors of Hades do not covet cursed relics.
The Magic Stars of the Underworld cannot betray their Lord.Not even the gods can make them yield.
Quinn stepped forward, picked up the hammer, and let her Cosmos flow.
A pulse of black energy erupted — and the hammer disintegrated into dust in her hands.
"Still not good enough," she murmured. "I haven't fully mastered the Seventh Sense yet. Lord Rhadamanthys will definitely scold me again…"
Her shadow faded into the night.
The suffocating fear that had blanketed Paris began to lift.When the dawn came, there was no trace of the dark warrior who had saved the city.
All that remained were rumors — whispers of a mysterious figure who walked among the dead, a messenger of Lord Hades, the God of the Underworld.
And so, among the Eight Skyhammers, another hammer was lost — one shattered completely by Quinn's hand.
For all their divine might, these Skyhammers had become little more than pawns.
Meanwhile, in New Mexico, U.S.A.—
A blinding column of light split the sky as Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge of Asgard, opened once more.
When the radiance faded, Thor stood upon the desert plain, a dozen Asgardian warriors at his back.
(End of Chapter)
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