The Fierce Battle

How could this be? How could a human possibly possess such strength?

Matt struggled with all his might, but he couldn't break free from the massive hands clutching his throat.

The last time he'd encountered such overwhelming strength was that night he ran into the monster.

If he hadn't been lucky, and if that monster hadn't been mindless, Matt would have been dead already.

But the man gripping his throat today was countless times stronger than that monster.

What on earth was happening to the world? Why had everyone's strength become so absurd? Had he fallen behind the times?

Matt couldn't help wondering to himself: could those gods actually exist?

Shock and confusion unlike anything he'd ever felt surged through Matt. The reality before him seemed to tear apart the beliefs and understanding he'd held for so long.

"Y-you... who are you?"

Matt's voice was hoarse and faint, each word seeming to be forced out from deep in his throat.

The man paid Matt no attention and kept staring toward the church.

Then he tossed Matt aside as casually as he would throw away a piece of trash and headed straight for the church.

"Your strength... it can't be something a human could possess... Who are you?"

Matt forced out the words with difficulty and struggled to his feet.

Though the man had only tossed him aside, the impact had left Matt, whose serious injuries had only recently healed, wounded all over again. He felt despair unlike anything he'd ever known, yet deep down, a spark of resentment still burned.

"Have you finally begun to feel the greatness of the power bestowed by the god? My name is Bronksky, and I am the Blood God's only spokesman in this world!"

"Oh, is that so? Then why have I heard that the spokesman for that xenos called the Blood God is Bruce Banner, the Red Hulk?"

A mocking voice drifted over from the direction of the church. Bronksky turned around in fury to see who had the nerve to say such a thing. Did they have a death wish?

Whether it was blaspheming the god he worshipped or saying he was inferior to Bruce Banner, that blockhead, Bronksky couldn't tolerate either!

"Who are you? How dare you blaspheme the great Blood God? I, Bronksky, am the true warrior chosen by the Blood God! Bruce Banner is nothing but a failed experiment. He can't fully control the Blood God's power!"

The robed figures before him stoked Bronksky's fury. How dare these heretics blaspheme the god?

"He's nothing but a xenos. Compared to the Great Father, he's not worth mentioning."

Evans shook his head in disdain. As the Church of Dagon's second-in-command, he believed that aside from the Great Father, the rest were no more than xenos. Only the Great Father deserved to be called a god!

As Evans finished speaking with such contempt, the members of the Church of Dagon gathered around him. Their robes swayed gently in the breeze, as if every fold of cloth held an ancient, mysterious power.

A strange energy began to ripple through the air. It was the power their god had granted them.

Bronksky's eyes widened in fury. He roared and charged at the heretics who dared challenge him, each step making the ground tremble.

His muscles swelled with rage, and a dim red glow showed beneath his skin—the sign that the Blood God's power was boiling within him.

"You worms dare question my power!"

Bronksky roared, clenching his fists as he prepared to wipe out the heretics in a single thunderous assault.

But Evans merely gave a cold smile. He slowly raised his right hand and murmured an ancient incantation.

In an instant, the air around the church seemed to freeze. Then chains made of shadow surged forth from every direction, winding around Bronksky as if alive and trying to restrain the raging warrior.

Roaring, Bronksky struggled with all his strength. The chains were extraordinarily tough, but before his tremendous power, they proved pathetically weak.

After breaking free of the chains, Bronksky charged forward like a bull gone berserk.

The Church of Dagon members didn't dare take him lightly. They unleashed their signature magic, trying to stop this human tank.

But against Bronksky at full strength, these mages were simply too inexperienced.

Before their spells could even reach him, Bronksky had already rushed up to the Church of Dagon members and swiped at Evans with his claw.

Seeing that things were going badly, Evans immediately teleported out of the way.

When his claw struck empty air, Bronksky grabbed a nearby Priest and twisted hard.

"AAAAAAAH!!!"

Bones cracked, and the pain made the Priest scream. Before he could use magic to escape—

Bronksky tore off his lower half, helping him lose weight the hard way.

After cutting him in half, Bronksky moved with blinding speed and appeared behind another Priest.

The Priest's head shot away like a cannonball, slamming into a companion's chest and punching a gaping hole through it on the spot.

That wasn't all. Several more people stood in a straight line behind him. The head-cannonball pierced them all before crashing into the wall and exploding with a bang.

White matter streaked with blood flew everywhere, splattering Matt.

The Priests, their chests now wide open, stared at the gaping holes in disbelief. After a long silence, they all collapsed helplessly in a neat row.

At Bronksky's current level of strength, he could tear apart even a tank with his bare hands, let alone a fragile human body.

And the exhilaration of tearing enemies apart from such close range was impossible to forget.

Bronksky reveled in the thrill of slaughter. Perhaps one day, in Khorne's eyes, he'd become a warrior more beloved than Banner.

Madness and bloodlust gleamed in Bronksky's eyes. Every punch he threw, every life he tore apart, gave him an unprecedented rush of pleasure and power.

His laughter echoed down the street, a chilling melody of triumph and madness.

Matt huddled to one side, overwhelmed by fear and shock. Once again, he was powerless—and this time, he couldn't even fight back.

He'd never imagined that a human could possess such terrifying strength, much less that he'd become a witness to a conflict between gods.

He felt his entire worldview crumbling. Things he'd once thought existed only in legends were now unfolding before his eyes, as real as anything could be.

He wanted to stop the fight, but the pain wracking his body left him unable to get up.

Even if he could stand, how could he possibly stop either side from fighting when they were all monsters like this?

All he could do was curl up here. He couldn't do anything else.