12: Chapter 11: Let the Battle Hymn Rise!
12: Chapter 11: Let the Battle Hymn Rise!
The morning breeze swept through the arena, kicking up fine dust from the ground.
Arthas had just finished his fluid display of swordsmanship and was sheathing his sword at his side, his small face tinged with a slight flush.
It was the excitement of exercise and the shyness of being watched by so many people.
Just then, a commotion broke out in the crowd.
An Amazonian Warrior wearing light leather armor and sporting short, neat hair stepped forward.
The fire of battle burned in her eyes.
In this nation that revered martial prowess, seeing such skill and not stepping up to spar was more unbearable than going without food.
Even if the opponent was just a child who looked only seven years old.
“Your Highness Arthas.” The female warrior performed a standard Amazonian military salute, her voice loud and powerful.
“I am an ordinary Amazonian Warrior named Alexia.” “I just witnessed your swordsmanship.
Although the style is different from ours, that rhythm is truly fascinating.” “I wonder if I might have the honor of sparring with you?” As soon as she finished speaking, the surroundings erupted in cheers and whistles.
Everyone was looking forward to this cross-realm duel.
Standing to the side, Diana frowned slightly.
She was about to say something; after all, Arthas was still young and had just finished testing his sword.
But before she could speak, Arthas had already beaten her to it.
“Of course!” Arthas’s voice was clear and loud, showing no stage fright whatsoever.
He turned around to face the female warrior, who was twice his height.
Raising the short sword in his hand again, he assumed a combat stance.
“A warrior of Asgard never refuses a challenge.” His small face was tense, his gaze extremely serious.
This seriousness caused the female warrior to set aside her slight trace of dismissiveness, and her expression became solemn.
She drew the wooden training sword from her waist—after all, real swords have no eyes, and it wouldn’t be good to injure an honored guest.
“Please, guide me!” With a low shout, Alexia took the initiative and attacked.
Her footwork was agile and varied, like an antelope leaping among rocks.
The wooden sword in her hand traced a tricky arc, aiming directly for Arthas’s waist.
The speed was not slow; clearly, she didn’t intend to go easy on him as if she were humoring a child.
Faced with this sudden attack, Arthas did not panic.
His body reacted almost instinctively.
It wasn’t a judgment made after thinking, but a memory carved into his muscles after countless rounds of basic training.
“Clang!” A dull thud sounded.
Arthas didn’t choose to dodge; instead, he chose the most head-on approach.
The iron sword in his hand steadily parried the wooden sword.
The moment the two swords met, Alexia’s expression changed.
A massive force, one that didn’t seem possible for a child to possess, was transmitted through the blade.
It numbed her palm, and she nearly lost her grip on the sword.
This…
how is this possible?
Is this really the strength a seven-year-old child should have?
She was greatly shocked.
She was an adult Amazonian Warrior, blessed with divine power, possessing strength far exceeding that of an ordinary human male.
But at this moment, before this small body, she actually felt like she was pushing against a mountain.
Arthas didn’t give his opponent time to be surprised.
The moment he blocked the attack, he immediately switched from defense to offense.
“Ha!” He took a step forward, utilizing his height ‘disadvantage’ to slip directly inside her defensive circle.
The short sword in his hand was like a viper’s tongue, thrusting straight at her abdomen.
Of course, he used the flat of the blade rather than the edge.
Alexia was pale with fright and hastily stepped back to create distance.
But Arthas’s speed was even faster than she had imagined.
That body, which looked petite and soft, now erupted with astonishing explosive power.
It was the superior genetics inherited from the God-King Odin and the Goddess of Beauty Aphrodite—a natural divine body.
Even if it hadn’t fully matured, even if he wasn’t deliberately using divine power.
This absolute gap in physical attributes was already enough to compensate for a lack of experience.
The rhythm of the battle was instantly seized by Arthas.
He was like a tireless little motor, circling Alexia and attacking relentlessly.
Cleaving, hacking, thrusting, parrying.
Every move was simple and direct, yet heavy and powerful.
Alexia was beaten back repeatedly, struggling just to keep up her guard.
She felt like she wasn’t facing a child, but a young Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Every collision left her arms feeling more sore and numb.
In less than twenty exchanges.
With a powerful horizontal sweep from Arthas.
Alexia finally lost her grip on the wooden sword; it flew out of her hand, traced an arc in the air, and landed in the distant sand.
The victory was decided.
The entire arena fell silent for a moment.
Then, applause and cheers erupted ten times more intense than before.
“He won!
He really won!” “My god!
This strength is simply terrifying!” “As expected of the son of Odin!” Everyone looked at the small figure standing in the center of the arena, panting slightly, and the affection in their eyes turned into awe.
In this nation that revered the strong, strength was the best passport.
Arthas sheathed his sword and bowed to Alexia.
“Thank you for the match, Sister.” He showed that sweet smile again, as if the fierce little beast from a moment ago didn’t exist at all.
Alexia rubbed her numb wrist and shook her head with a bitter smile.
“Your Highness truly possesses innate divine strength.” “I admit defeat wholeheartedly.” She was truly impressed.
This kind of talent was something one couldn’t even bring themselves to be jealous of.
Just then.
A slow and powerful applause came from the back of the crowd.
The crowd automatically parted to create a path.
General Antiope, clad in golden heavy armor, slowly walked out.
Her face wore an unmistakable look of admiration, and her sharp eyes were fixed on Arthas.
Like an old hunter seeing an unpolished, top-quality piece of jade.
“Good.” “Very good.” Antiope said ‘good’ twice, her tone full of affirmation.
“Solid foundation, amazing strength, and agile reactions.” “More importantly, that composure in the face of danger.” “Odin has taught you well.” She walked up to Arthas and looked down at him.
The pressure accumulated from years in high positions and on the battlefield radiated from her like something physical.
But this did not frighten Arthas; instead, it made him straighten his back even more.
“It seems ordinary warriors can no longer satisfy your appetite.” As Antiope spoke, she unfastened her cloak and tossed it to a nearby adjutant.
She stretched her neck and wrists, letting out a series of crisp cracks.
That dangerous aura became even more intense.
“Since you’ve come to Paradise Island, wouldn’t it be a wasted trip if you didn’t truly experience the top combat techniques of the Amazons?” She drew an unsharpened longsword from the weapon rack.
The tip of the sword pointed directly at Arthas.
“Your Highness Arthas.” “Are you interested in exchanging a few moves with this old woman?” “Let me see just how much weight the future of Asgard truly carries.” As soon as these words were spoken, the entire audience was in an uproar.
Diana’s expression changed drastically, and she rushed forward, blocking Arthas.
“Aunt!” Diana’s voice was full of anxiety and confusion.
“What kind of joke are you playing?!” “He’s only seven!
He’s just a child!” “The previous match was just a spar, but you…” “How can you personally take the field?” “What if you injure him?!” She was truly frantic.
Who was Antiope?
She was the strongest warrior in all of Amazon, second only to the Queen.
She was a being capable of fighting mythical monsters single-handedly on the battlefield.
Even if it was just an assessment, an expert of that level leaking even a fraction of their power was no laughing matter.
Facing her niece’s obstruction, Antiope did not back down.
She merely gave Diana a faint look.
“What?” “Do you think I don’t even have that much sense of proportion?” “Or is it that you have so little confidence in this little guy?” “A true warrior grows in battle, not in a greenhouse.” “Since Odin allowed him to possess such power, he wouldn’t want him to be just a vase that would be blown over by the wind.” Though harsh, these words were the educational creed of the Amazons.
Diana was momentarily speechless, but she still stubbornly spread her arms, protecting Arthas behind her.
“That’s still not okay!” “I’m the one who brought him back, I have to be responsible for him!” “If you want to fight, I’ll fight you!” While the two sides were at a stalemate.
A warm little hand gently tugged at Diana’s clothes.
Diana froze for a moment and looked back.
She saw Arthas walking out from behind her.
He didn’t look at Diana, but stared straight at Antiope.
In those amber eyes, an unprecedented light was burning.
It wasn’t an impulse for violence, but a pride belonging to a king.
“It’s okay, Sister Diana.” Arthas’s voice, though youthful, was exceptionally calm.
He gently pushed aside Diana’s protective arm.
Step by step, he walked to the center of the arena.
Facing the Amazonian general who was as powerful as a mountain.
He took a deep breath and then suddenly let out a loud shout.
“I am the First Prince of Asgard!” “Son of Odin!” “Arthas Odinson!” Every word was like a clap of thunder bursting from his chest.
“I fear no challenge!” “I accept any battle!” “Come!” In this instant.
The entire arena seemed to be ignited by this small figure.
That heroism, that dominance.
It almost created an illusion, as if standing there was not a child, but a young king about to be enthroned.
Looking at that back, Diana’s eyes actually felt a bit warm.
She didn’t try to stop him again.
Because she knew that was the dignity belonging to a warrior.
If she were to protect him like a hen protecting a chick at this time, it would instead be an insult to him.
She could only silently retreat to the side, her hand tightly gripping the hilt of her sword, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice in a crisis.
Looking at the high-spirited little guy before her, Antiope’s eyes showed even more admiration.
“Good boy!” “You’ve got guts!” “Now this is what a member of the God race should look like!” She laughed loudly and flourished the longsword in her hand.
“In that case, I won’t be polite!” “Watch out!” Before she finished speaking, Antiope’s figure had already vanished from her spot.
That speed was more than a level faster than the previous Alexia.
It was practically like a golden bolt of lightning.
“Whoosh!” The sound of breaking wind instantly rang out.
The blade was already closing in on Arthas’s face.
Arthas’s pupils contracted sharply.
So fast!
Truly too fast!
So fast his eyes could barely keep up with the movement.
His body’s instinct played its part again; at the critical moment, he leaned back, performing an extremely limit-pushing iron bridge move.
The longsword brushed past the tip of his nose, the resulting wind pressure scraping his face with stinging pain.
But that was only the first move.
Antiope did not stop just because her first strike missed.
The moment she overshot her mark, she tapped her toes against the ground, forcibly twisting her body against its own inertia.
Like a sudden spear thrust from behind, the longsword swung back in an upward arc toward Arthas’s lower body.
The speed of this transition and the fluidity of the combination were simply breathtaking.
Before Arthas even had a chance to stand up, crisis struck again.
He could only roll clumsily across the ground, barely managing to evade the blade.
But this move caused him to completely lose the initiative and his rhythm.
Over the next few minutes.
Arthas was like a small boat caught in a violent storm.
He was suppressed by Antiope’s tempestuous attacks until he could barely breathe.
He could only continuously dodge, parry, and retreat.
Although he managed to escape danger time and again by relying on his powerful divine body and solid foundation.
The gap between them was glaringly obvious.
It wasn’t a gap in strength, but a chasm formed by thousands of years of accumulated combat experience.
Every one of Antiope’s moves aimed for his vitals, and every one of her predictions was incredibly precise.
She was like a predator toyed with its prey, slowly compressing Arthas’s room for survival.
“What’s wrong?
Son of Odin?” Antiope taunted Arthas with words even as she swung her sword.
“Can’t hold on anymore?” “Is this all you’re capable of?” “If that’s the case, the future of Asgard is truly worrying!” “Show me your true ability!” “Don’t disappoint me!” The sword in her hand grew faster and faster, her strength increasing as well.
The crimson training uniform on Arthas’s body had already been slashed in several places.
Although the blade hadn’t reached his flesh, he looked extremely disheveled.
Sweat poured down his forehead, stinging his eyes.
His breathing became ragged, and his lungs felt as if they were on fire.
So strong…
Is this a truly powerful warrior?
I have…
absolutely no power to fight back…
No!
I can’t just lose like this!
I am the son of Odin!
I am the genius my father placed high hopes on!
If I can’t even pass this test, how can I protect Mom?
How can I protect everyone?
A powerful surge of indignation erupted in Arthas’s heart.
With the surge of this emotion, the mass of golden divine power that had been lurking within his body seemed to sense its master’s will.
Thump!
A dull heartbeat sounded clearly in his ears.
That was no ordinary heartbeat; it was the pulsation of divine power.
It was as if a sleeping giant lion had opened its eyes.
Arthas felt the originally gentle warm current in his body suddenly become scalding hot.
It surged through his blood vessels, roaring, craving release.
Buzz— The iron sword in his hand suddenly emitted a soft hum.
A faint golden light spread from his palm to the hilt, then quickly covered the entire blade.
“That is…” On the sidelines, Diana’s eyes widened abruptly.
Antiope also sensed something was wrong.
The aura of the little guy before her, who had been backed into a corner, suddenly changed.
It became majestic, holy, and…
filled with an overwhelming pressure.
Arthas snapped his head up.
In his originally clear amber eyes, two golden flames were now burning.
He no longer retreated.
Faced with another of Antiope’s sword strikes, he did not choose to dodge.
Instead, he gripped his sword with both hands and met the attack head-on.
“Haaaaah!!!” Accompanied by a youthful yet power-filled roar.
The golden light flared brilliantly.
Clang!!!
A massive sound echoed throughout the arena.
Golden light and cold steel collided violently in the air.
This time, the one knocked back was no longer Arthas.
Antiope felt an overwhelming force transfer from the sword, causing a sharp pain in the webbing between her thumb and forefinger; she slid back uncontrollably for several meters before stabilizing herself.
She looked up in shock at the small figure enveloped in golden light.
At this moment, Arthas no longer seemed like a mortal.
The golden divine power was not just attached to his sword; it was gushing out from every pore of his body, forming a pair of blurred, wing-like phantoms of light behind him.
That was pure, untainted Odin Force.
It carried a majesty that judged all evil.
“Is…
is this Arthas’s divine power?” Diana murmured to herself, her eyes full of disbelief.
She could feel that there was no terrifying aura of destruction within that power.
Instead, it possessed an extremely warm and positive quality.
Like the sun.
Like…
hope.
Arthas did not give Antiope a chance to catch her breath.
This time, the roles of offense and defense were completely reversed.
The empowerment of divine power had boosted his speed and strength to a terrifying level.
Like a golden meteor, he charged toward Antiope.
Those originally somewhat awkward moves seemed to be endowed with a soul under the infusion of divine power.
Every sword swing left a trail of golden light.
Every strike fell like a thunderbolt.
Antiope had to cast aside all contempt and face him with absolute focus.
This was no longer a training match.
This was a true, evenly matched battle.
She even…
began to feel the pressure.
Wrapped in golden light, the originally ordinary iron sword became indestructible, even radiating a heat capable of scorching skin.
Furthermore, Arthas’s combat instincts seemed to have fully awakened at this moment.
It was as if he were born for battle.
No need for thought, no need for judgment.
Divine power guided his sword, and his body told him what to do.
He became faster and fiercer.
That sense of oppression made Antiope feel as if she had returned to the battlefields of the Divine War thousands of years ago.
“Good!” Antiope shouted, her true fighting spirit also ignited.
A faint glow of divine power also appeared on her body—a blessing from Olympus.
Two distinct types of divine power collided in the arena.
Gold and silver intertwined.
Sword qi crisscrossed, and dust filled the air.
The surrounding spectators had long since been stunned.
No one expected that a sparring session originally thought to be a ‘training match’ would evolve into such a clash of gods.
That seven-year-old child was actually able to trade blows with their General, and even seemed to be gaining the upper hand!
Arthas’s movements became smoother as he fought.
He felt as if he had entered a wondrous state.
Everything around him slowed down.
Antiope’s movements became crystal clear in his eyes, every opening exposed.
The sword in his hand was no longer an external object, but an extension of his will.
He could slash or thrust wherever he wished.
The golden light grew more and more brilliant, eventually almost drowning him entirely.
In the center of the light, he was like a young God-King, surveying his territory and punishing his enemies.
That aura of being high above yet compassionate made all the Amazonian Warriors present feel an involuntary urge to bow in worship.
After dozens more rounds of intense exchange.
Despite her rich experience, Antiope began to find it difficult to cope with this completely unreasonable explosion of divine power.
After all, her divine power was merely a blessing, whereas Arthas’s divine power was his source.
This was a difference in quality.
Finally, under a two-handed heavy strike from Arthas that seemed capable of splitting mountains.
The longsword in Antiope’s hand let out a mournful cry.
Though it didn’t break, the immense force sent her flying.
She flipped in the air and, upon landing, retreated seven or eight steps before barely managing to stand firm.
Arthas, meanwhile, remained in the downward-slashing posture in the center of the arena.
The golden light around him slowly receded, turning into countless specks of light that dissipated into the air.
The iron sword, unable to withstand the infusion of divine power, was covered in cracks and finally shattered into a pile of scrap metal with a ‘crack’.
The battle was over.
The entire arena was silent.
Everyone held their breath, looking at the small figure holding only a sword hilt.
Sweat dripped from Arthas’s cheeks onto the ground.
He gasped for air, his chest heaving violently.
Though he had won and experienced an explosion of power, the burden on his young body was immense.
The feeling of weakness following the exhaustion of divine power surged over him like a tide.
His legs felt weak, and his vision began to darken.
But he still forced himself to stay upright.
He looked up at Antiope.
A smile, though weary, was still bright on his face.
“Hehe…” “General Grandma…
oh wait, General Sister.” “Did I win?” Antiope stared at that smile, stunned for several seconds.
Then, she also smiled.
It was a rare, loud laugh from the usually stern woman.
“Hahahaha!” “You won!” “You won!” “Odinson, you really are a monster!” “No, a true genius!” She stepped forward, completely disregarding her image, and slapped Arthas’s shoulder hard.
“I admit defeat wholeheartedly!” “From today on, you can go wherever you want on Paradise Island!” “If anyone dares to object, tell them my name!” This was the highest recognition from a powerful warrior.
“Whew…” Hearing those words, Arthas finally let out his breath.
His vision went black, his body went limp, and he was about to collapse onto the ground.
But the expected hard ground never came.
A warm and fragrant embrace caught him steadily.
It was Diana.
She had already rushed forward, catching the stubborn little guy in her arms.
Looking at his pale yet smiling face, Diana felt both heartache and pride.
“You idiot.” She scolded softly, her eyes reddening.
“Why push yourself so hard?” “Don’t you know I’d be worried?” Arthas nuzzled against the familiar embrace, finding a comfortable position.
“Because…
I’m a man.” “I can’t embarrass my sister.” After saying that, he could no longer hold on; his head tilted to the side, and he fell asleep directly in Diana’s arms.
He left behind a crowd still in shock and a Diana filled with gratification and pride.
The sunlight bathed them, and the golden afterglow seemed to dance in the air; it was the glory belonging to the Son of Odin, and the true beginning of this legendary story.