Valkyrie Smash



"OUT. OF. MY. WAY!!!"

Thunder roared as Mjölnir swung her great warhammer, crushing a number of Olympians with a single move.

She was angry, frustrated. Her wish was to accompany her beloved Doctor to the palace, to help guard him throughout his dangerous mission. But unfortunately, she wasn't a Valkyrie. She was a Nephilim, and a high ranking one at that.

Mimir had tasked her with leading the assault on the Olympians, with freeing their captured comrades as her second objective. It was an important job, one she would've taken pride in if the circumstances were different, but that had changed soon after she began to understand the warm feeling in her chest, and because of that she found herself desiring to be beside that man.

'I hope his opinion of me doesn't change because of this…'

Logic told her that it wouldn't happen, but her anxiety did a lot to push the idea back into the darkness. She recalled what happened less than an hour ago when she was forced to share him with two others. She had accepted the fact that she wouldn't be able to have him for herself, and as if that wasn't bad enough, she was reminded of her status as an outsider. The Doctor might've taken an interest in her, but in the end there were a lot of barriers separating her from him.

As the anger continued to boil in her chest, she reached out with her left hand and grabbed an enemy who thought it was a good idea to attack her while she was deep in thought. She pulled him, kneed him in the stomach then channeled an absurd amount of lightning into his body, frying his brain and everything else.

As she let the smoking corpse fall, she decided to banish her personal feelings for now and focus on the fight. One of the things that caught her attention, having already killed many of the so called Olympians, was their lack of Force Fields. It would be more accurate to say that what they have is far too weak and easily broken.

The Force Fields generated by their hearts granted Freyja's Children a level of protection unlike anything the enemy had to offer. Most of them weren't even able to create barriers and only opted to use simple runes for flight and weapon creation. Even the weapons they manifested using the Nameless Element were simple and lacked any details. She began to wonder if what they were up against was just cannon fodder. The best they could do was resist a little, exchanging a few blows before perishing. The other Nephilim weren't struggling at all which made her all the more worried.

'Something isn't right…'

The enemy was far weaker than those they had faced during the first invasion. That shouldn't be possible. Back then they were able to go toe to toe with most Nephilim, but now they were being crushed easily. Such a stark difference didn't make any sense at all.

'Could it be… are these different soldiers?'

A melody resounded through the sky, silencing the chaos of battle and drawing eyes toward its source. A young man descended from the sky, his elegant figure illuminated by gentle rays of golden light, standing out against the oppressive crimson of the sky.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with a lean body draped in white cloth that seemed to barely hang to his body. His hair was a golden blonde, beautiful despite its curliness, matched by the golden harp he held in his arms.

His fingers danced on the strings and another melody came out. A smile spread on his face as both foes and allies stopped fighting, and a moment later he spoke, his voice exaggerated with a sorrowful tone.

"Oh, how cruel can this world be!" He said, playing another tune. "Beautiful maidens, their allure beyond anything I have seen. Clad in unsightly armor, slaying my followers and sowing hate into my heart."

Shaking his head, he played another tune.

"O beautiful maidens! Why must you hurt me so much! Why must we fight, why must we hate when we can love instead!"

Gazing at the battlefield in front of him, the man let a well practiced smile form on his handsome face, taking the hearts of his followers and captivating some of the Nephilim as well.

"This conflict is bound to bring only suffering and hate. Come with me! Let us-"

His words were suddenly cut and the world around him seemed to bend at a strange angle. Everything was blurry for a moment, but then he felt the cold embrace of bare ground. By the time he understood what was happening the pain from his broken ribs and arm set his brain on fire.

"GOD. FUCKING. DAMN IT!!!!" He cursed, the act he had performed slipping away.

Just as he gazed up at the sky a lightning bolt came down crashing on him. His electrified voice was audible among the crackling, and his pained screams continued until the strike ended.

"You sure talk a lot." Said Mjölnir, slowly descending toward the charred man.

She had recognized him at first sight, having heard his description from the Valkyrie named Nino. He was one of the special targets they were supposed to handle with care, and since she was the first to find him it fell on her now to take him down.

"How… how dare you…" the man said, his burned skin peeling as he tried to stand up. "All… all I wanted was to talk… I… I wanted to get to know you…"

"Less talking, more fighting."

Mjölnir couldn't care less about what anyone else wanted, especially if they were an enemy. The only thing on her mind were her own desires, and the sooner the battle ends the sooner she gets to confront her own thoughts and plan how to approach the Doctor in the future.

"Damn it…" Apolo said. "Why, maiden with the silver hair!? What have I done to earn your wrath!? We have only met so why must you come for my life!!!?"

Now it was starting to sound even more strange. The fact that he could still stand after taking a hit from her lightning set him apart from the other Olympians. Focusing her eyes, she was able to see that his body was healing itself. His broken bones were already back in place, and the burnt skin was slowly regenerating. One thing wasn't coming back though. The loose robe he wore. It was gone, and gone was the protection it granted him.

As his flesh began to regain its natural color, Mjölnir was exposed to the undesirable sight of his full naked body, however his expression didn't waver, her eyes descending to his crutch before a single word escaped her lips.

"Ah, tiny."

At that moment, Apollo received the most devastating blow he had ever experienced in his life. He looked down at himself and realized that, with all the pain and excitement, blood had rushed to his lower half causing it to stand. It was standing, alright. But no matter how one looked at it that thing seemed to be lacking quite a lot.

"Th-that's not it!" Apollo cried, his voice breaking as he rushed to cover himself. "It has yet to regenerate, that's all!"

"What are you talking about?" Mjölnir replied, her expression portraying disgust. "You've already healed so-"

"No!!!" He cried, his face twisting in anger. "This definitely isn't all I have! I… I… that's right! We are in battle right now! There is no way I would be able to show my full potential under such circumstances! Maybe if we were alone, and on a bed…"

Though his reaction confused her, the silver haired Nephilim already had a guess that the man felt humiliated by his private parts being exposed. She wondered why he would stand around and show his body if he wasn't comfortable with others seeing his twig, but then she remembered that his weird behavior –as if it wasn't weird to begin with– had started when she commented on how small his tool was.

"Lord Apollo!!!" A voice called, drawing her attention to a group of three women who had just teleported a small distance away. They quickly made their way to the blond man carrying what seemed to be a change of clothes.

She watched as they quickly dressed him up, his new attire appearing more suited to combat than what he previously wore.

"Don't listen to her, my Lord." One of the women said.

"There is no man alive who could match your glorious body!" Said the second one.

"That's right!" Added the third one. "Lord Apollo is a man among men! No one could hope to match his skills, whether it's in combat or in bed!"

Though their praise seemed to be genuine, it did little to put out the anger and frustration the man felt. As if to add fuel to the fire, Mjölnir chimed in on their conversation shutting them down without even knowing what she was doing.

"No, I mean, I don't know about skills but… there is only so much you can do with just 'that'" she said, her eyes once again pointing at his crutch. "It's not even half as long as Doctor's, and don't let me start on how thin it is…"

The three women stopped moving their hands, blood draining from their faces. The next moment a heavy pressure suddenly befell the entire area. Mjölnir felt it and immediately prepared herself, and the three women quickly teleported away seeing the black aura slowly enveloping the man named Apollo.

"Doctor, huh? You're referring to that man who sneaked into the palace, right?" Runes began to form and soon enough he had a halo hovering over his head. Holding his left hand out, a long bow began to form in it. As three golden arrows materialized in his left hand, he gazed up at the silver haired maiden and forced a malicious to take over his face. "You hold him in such high regard, huh? Fine. I will make sure to keep him alive, if only so he could watch me have my way with every woman he adored!"

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