Mankind's Greatest

"Gosh, where are the nurses!? Hold on, Artemis-sama. We'll get to the sickbay in a minute," one of the nymphs encourages, and the goddess responds with a tired smile.

The others exchange worried looks as they carry Artemis down the hallway. Her muscles are still tensed, and the wounds are starting to look worse and worse. To think a goddess would be forced to walk to the sickbay on her own…

"He put up quite a fight, didn't he?"

Artemis squints in the direction of the condescending voice. A tall silhouette is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, lightly tapping the ground with one foot. The goddess feels her expression shift into one of obvious displeasure as the man moves towards her.

"Have you gotten rusty, sister? I don't remember ever seeing you in such bad shape," Apollo mocks, but Artemis continues to stare questioningly at him, as if to say, "Have you business with me?" Angered by her silence, the god presses further, "Well, mortals are nothing like us gods. That man never stood any chance of—"

"Yeah… for the first time in millennia, you've said something I can agree with," the goddess cuts him off. "That's a truth, dearest brother. Humans are inherently different from us, and I've known that for a long time now. They're cowardly, selfish beings that put their survival above everything else. Because that's human nature! So, to suppress that instinct and lay down your life to save someone else's… is truly righteous."

The nymphs bow their heads slightly as they walk past the god. A muscle twitches in Artemis' jaw, and the goddess shrugs.

"Besides, it was that girl's fault for faltering. No… Maybe this is how it was supposed to be. But let me tell you something, Apollo-niisan," she adds, doing her best to hide her irritation beneath the bright tone. "Völundr or not, you couldn't have won against him. That man saw right through me, and he would've done the same to you."

And, without looking back to see her brother's reaction, Artemis continues to walk towards the faint light at the end of the long hallway. She's realised it ever since Hannibal landed the first hit… that humans aren't to be underestimated.

***

"I'm telling you, slow down!" Hrund's voice cries.

The sickbay's doors open with a satisfying whoosh, and Herfjötur steps into the room.

"How is she?" the Valkyrie asks promptly, her sudden entrance startling the nurses.

Kára lies on the hospital bed, dressed in a white hospital gown and connected to all sorts of machines. Her chest moves up and down rhythmically, the frequency of her breaths matching that of the devices' beeps. A cold compress has been placed on her forehead to relieve the pain. Herfjötur's nails bite hard into her palm despite the nurses' assurance that everything is under control. But even that sorry state is better than Niflhel.

"Did we win?" the young Valkyrie inquires suddenly, peeking through her eyelids.

Kára stares into space for what feels like an eternity, waiting for an answer. She can't see the look on Herfjötur's face. She can't see her eyes swimming in tears. But, nevertheless, her nose crinkles, and her brows snap together.

"So we lost," Kára utters in a shaky voice before her older sisters get the chance to say anything. Their silence spoke for itself. The gods had won the first round, placing mankind even closer to its doom. "And it's all my fault."

"No, it's not, sister. You couldn't hear them, but the words Hannibal said at the last minute… He would've lost even if he hadn't saved you," Herfjötur tells her.

"Because there wasn't a speck of doubt in Hannibal's heart… but mine was full of it. I didn't trust him. I thought I had to do everything by myself." Kára's words pour out like a waterfall, her heart beating faster and faster. Tears start descending down her face. She feels like a spoiled child, bawling her eyes out in front of her sisters. "I didn't rely on Hannibal's strength, so my body broke. It couldn't withstand Artemis-sama's might. No matter how hard I tried to surpass my limits, I just couldn't. What's more, I knew all about Common Destiny, about how useless it is if you don't have absolute faith in your partner… And I still did that."

The nurses rush to the Valkyrie's side as she tries to get out of bed. Her hands tremble, pushing against the white cloth and lifting her upper body off it. Hrund and Herfjötur exchange concerned glances, but don't try to stop her. Kára lowers her head and wipes her face with her sleeve.

"So it was my fault we lost. But I won't let that error go to waste. He saved me… so I have to make sure it doesn't happen again. Are the lists here yet?" she asks, still sniffling. "That's why Hrund-neesan is here, right?"

Having fully opened her eyes now, Kára looks at her sisters expectantly. Hrund is still dressed in a simple tank top, and her chestnut hair is slicked back with sweat. Her older sister, the training-obsessed ninth Valkyrie is there. Of course, she wouldn't have interrupted a session just to come check on her, so something more important must have happened.

"Well, they're here. But you really should rest now," Hrund mentions hesitantly, gaining a few nods of approval from the nurses. "Herfjötur-neesan will take care of this."

"She tasked me with choosing humanity's fighters," Kára retorts. "And that's exactly what I plan to do. I can rest later."

Without a trace of hesitance, Herfjötur takes her phone out of her pocket and taps the screen rapidly.

"Here," she says, showing her sister the large list of names.

The white light emanating from the device's screen reflects in Kára's wide eyes. On one side, there are the gods' thirteen fighters. On the other, humanity's thirteen chosen warriors, the Einherjar. Mankind's last hope, the final thirteen!

***

MORTALS

Liu Bowen

Gilgamesh

Jack Churchill

Bartholomew Roberts

Charlotte de Corday

King Arthur

Khutulun

Ishikawa Goemon

Xuanzang

Paracelsus

Hannibal

Saitō Musashibō Benkei

Hatshepsut

GODS

Takemikazuchi-no-o no kami

Shiva

Quetzalcoatl

Hephaestus

Inanna

Perun

Artemis

Samael

Horus

Izanami no mikoto

Hermes

Xipe Totec

Leviathan

***

"The Leviathan? So they're straight up throwing monsters at us…" Kára says, glaring at the phone. "Nevertheless, we've got some real monsters on our side too. Herfjötur-neesan, we'll need Herja-neechan's cooperation for the second round."

"Then… our second fighter is her?" the oldest Valkyrie asks in return.

"We'll show them. We might've lost the first round, but Ragnarok isn't over yet. And if there's anyone who can teach those prideful cowards a lesson, it's gotta be her."

Seeing Kára's eyes burn with determination, Herfjötur involuntarily recalls Hannibal's words. Out of the thirteen fighters to represent mankind, he thought he was the least special. Whether that was true or not is unknown even to her. However… those twelve remaining warriors are truly, without a doubt, mankind's greatest.