The Wild Hunt VI

As soon as Garth heard Irwin's orders, he smirked and threw away his shotgun. He turned back and saw a few dozen ghost riders in Harley motorcycles restructuring.

He hollered at them, gaining their attention, before retrieving two long-nosed revolvers from his back and pointing it at them. "Let's have some fun!"

Gordon chuckled, replacing the magazines on his rifles as he gazed around for any signs of Samantha. Upon seeing her hiding behind a bush, gun in hand, he went back to his killing spree. Happy as a lamb on slaughtering day.

"Come on, motherfuckers! It's been 800 years. Let me show you how we do it in the New World!"

Irwin paid the two hunters' escapades no heed for he had a grudge to settle.

His dripping blood immediately turned into crimson smoke as it touched the flames that engulfed his arms. Slick sweat turned his olive skin bronze as his blue eyes steeled itself towards Woden.

The god stood up, half his clothes torn asunder by the slugs and the other scorched by his spell. He opened his mouth, revealing his less-than stellar dental hygiene. "THORNE IN GREY! You bloody worms shall no longer walk this dearth after I dismember your clan!"

"I bet your wife's been fucked loose by eight hundred Jotuns in the past eight hundred years." He taunted, inwardly cringing at his admittedly tactical misogyny.

Woden roared, the might of which threatened to tear through the surrounding environment. Sword in burned hand, he rushed forward and swung the silver sword downward.

Irwin rolled to the left, dodging the strike as he grabbed the Enchanted Iridium knife he stuck in his left leg holster. Seeing Woden's open right guard, he gripped the knife and slashed at the god, only to force him back a few inches. Nary a wound or a tear in his singed leather jacket.

'Like a goddamn iron block,' Irwin surmised as he steadied his knife hand from the previous attack.

Not wanting to waste words, Irwin blocked Woden's elbow bash with his flaming hand and used his knife hand to stab Woden's exposed shoulder. Sparks flew at every stab as the enchantment on the knife grew a little weaker.

Woden snorted at Irwin's attempt to penetrate his steely body, before shoving him off of him. He cracked his shoulder as he waved the silver sword in a gentle flourish. "To think that I would be freed by a mortal, I would offer my gratitude and use him to empower my weakened body."

"S-Shut up, frog fucker!" Irwin roared as the flames on his arms grew stronger. He rushed towards Woden and threw the Iridium knife.

Woden used the sword to deflect the thrown knife, but found it harder than he thought and added his right hand to the handle. The knife went haywire, embedding itself deep into a tree.

Seeing Woden use two hands to wield the sword, Irwin arrived near him and tried to break his arm, but found a metallic glimmer appearing on his right side.

He tried to break his stride, but the blade found him faster than he could move. Irwin's body went with the flow of the blade, like a boxer rolling with his opponent's punches. But instead of a boxer's fist, it was a thousand-year-old blade.

His body went past Woden and his bike, crashing a few meters away and breaking a few cobblestone bricks.

Blood lined the silver sword, dampening the glint on its otherwise smooth surface. Woden roared with laughter, "Your speed compares not to that of Oddin's Son!"

Woden tried to step closer to his foe, but a barrage of bullets hit his form as Garth and Gordon sought to buy time for the fallen friend.

For the second time in the past minute, Irwin tried to stand up shakily. Blood dripped like a crimson waterfall underneath his naked form as a deep gash starting from his armpit to the edge of his abdomen spurted blood.

His breaths were sporadic and mouthful, trying to survive best it could as it engaged his body's natural and supernatural regeneration.

Darkness enshrouded the edges of his sight as he resisted fainting from the pain. He turned to his right and saw the flames had been extinguished.

He knew he was too hasty. He should have driven out of the city and bought some time for the other hunters to gather the weapon needed to kill Woden.

Hell, they could have set a better trap than him. But, no, he had to be the one to take down the godly bastard. Sure, he could have reasoned that he was suffering from the curse and his emotions were being intensified.

But he knew that deep down, he had an unshakeable confidence to defeat whatever monster comes in his way. A foolish confidence.

He trained his gaze towards the reconstructed ghost riders as they made their way towards a preoccupied Garth and Gordon. He noticed that Samantha had been noticed by the pale riders too and was now using his gun to blast them off. 

With a deep sigh, he stood up, unshakeable in spirit but not in form, as he nearly stumbled back down. "Watch out for the riders. Plan B."

Gordon saw the look in Irwin's eyes and nodded at Garth to resume their barrage on the ghost riders. "We're halfway through our ammo. Finish this!"

Garth moved to the left, taunting the pale riders towards him. Gordon, meanwhile, took Samantha with him as they escaped to the right.

Woden's garbled laughter echoed throughout the night as he waved for his army to settle the score with the other hunters.

A hunter and a god were left alone in the shell-ridden, scorching part of the park.

"Before I kill you… do you mind telling me your story?" Irwin asked, not only to buy time for his wounds to heal, but from genuine curiosity.

"Aye, I could grant you knowledge before your death." Woden nodded, for he had done so as well in the face of great danger. To seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge. "The mortals who worshiped me had landed upon an island full of bounty and mystery. For years, I and my children fared war after another in pursuit of genuine victory, but found your kind more tenacious than ever. As such, I rode the land… I killed the enemy and formed my army… with such a formidable force, I neglected to realize that my army was but mortals. My people have suffered and so…"

"You brought the bounty of the land to your people?"

"I did, aye. A futile endeavor to atone for..." Woden drew closer, gripping the silver sword tightly. "But your ancestor, tenacious as he is, rode after me… drove me away and massacred my worshippers. Their souls went not into Valhalla, but to be damned like a fucking mongrel!"

Woden swung up and brought down the sword with fury and thunder. The speed with which the silver sword traveled created a small vacuum on its trail as it bore down and met Irwin's flaming fist.

Another barely visible wave of heavy winds forced the two apart, but before either could make heads or tails of their surroundings, they rushed at each other once more.

Woden's very swing created blades of wind comparable to a hurricane, tearing apart anything that stood in its way.

Irwin, having experienced the deadly edge of the sword, dodged and ducked every which way. Half his concentration kept on his flaming fist as he used it to block Woden's strikes.

Irwin moved around Woden's figure, using his gigantic form to sneak the attack exposed parts of his body.

Woden, having had enough of the mortal's craftiness, stuck the sword down the pavement. The cobblestone floor erupted outwards in a circle as a psychic force blew Irwin away.

He crashed to a nearby tree, his back bearing the brunt of the fall. Giving a beat of reprieve, he used the last flickers of his flaming whip to score the wounds on his body. Thankful to have the ability to control its flames telepathically.

Gritting through the pain, a smile plastered on his black-and-blue face. He moved closer to Woden, before an idea popped inside his head. "I'm going to grapple with you, Odin. You're gonna resist, but, you see, I'm more agile than you. Try not to hit your head on my knee."

He rushed towards Woden, but the god seemed to not be perturbed by his words. In fact, he seemed to relish the challenge.

Woden brought forth his sword and swung horizontally, with it a force greater than a hurricane.

Although Irwin knew that Woden knew that he was bluffing, Irwin had something Woden did not expect.

Irwin ducked and slid on his knees, scraping his skin and piercing it with the shallow rubble. As he did so, Irwin activated his system and bought the Dragon's Breath spray out of the Rewards Counter.

Shaped like a perfume atomizer, this bottle holds one of the deadliest flames known to man.

He dismissed the spell, used his free hand to grab the pump and spewed out a wide-ranged fire breath of a goddamn dragon.

Irwin didn't stop until he emptied the bottle, so Woden, trying his best to survive the deadly attack, had to endure nineteen seconds of dark blue flames that engulfed his very being.

According to lore, a dragon's flames did not only attack a physical property, but also a spiritual one. That was why Scandinavian Dragon Hunters had runic tattoos on their body; to protect themselves from the mythical monster's fire breath.

Seeing the flame flickering and decreasing in intensity, he threw it at Woden's flaming form and caused a miniature explosion that forced him to stumble back a few meters away.

Woden roared, extinguishing a large part of the remaining flames on his body that revealed his scorched arms and burnt lower jaw. Although he had constantly surged with power to resist the flames, none, perhaps Loki and their bestial children, could truly resist such a devious blaze.

Still in flames, Woden rushed forward, intent on devouring Irwin to restore his form. His anger had reached levels he thought only the Jotnar can cause, so much so that he had forgone wielding the sword. He will kill the mortal man with his own fist.

Irwin knew Woden had been injured, although not to what extent, and met his head-on. With a flick of his injured wrists, he summoned another flaming whip that enveloped his arm.

He had another surprise for the Norse god.

Both reared their fist as they collided, both using the best of the abilities, their fullest might.

But, no matter what, Woden had the physical advantage, so Irwin dug deep into his essence and brought forth great magik. "Gordon, now!"

Instead of using his most powerful spell, Irwin unwrapped his hands free of the flames and used it to tangle Woden's neck. 

He moved his body down so that the god's punch hit his left shoulder and used the momentum of the fist to duck underneath Woden and go behind his back.

Gordon, who had been hiding underneath a small ditch they had set up beforehand, moved up and threw Irwin a small, featureless chrome blade.

The blade tore through the air, its sheer sharpness slicing the very fabric that made existence a reality before Irwin grabbed it with his free left hand. He tugged his grip on the flaming whip, tightening the makeshift noose around Woden's neck.

Irwin stabbed Woden in the neck, drawing blood for the first time in the fight. Knowing he has the god's murder weapon in his hands, Irwin kept stabbing Woden in every reachable part of his gigantic body.

Like a madman on a killing spree, Irwin did not stop his continued assault until the god's heavy form went to his knees.

The pavement cracked under the weight of Woden as his gushing blood extinguished the fire roaming his scorched body.

Irwin knew he could not kill the pagan god even with the angel blade, but at least he got an Aesir's blood.

"Blod av blod, la hel besudle kroppen din. La slangen innsnevre deg i din sjel. Forvise deg essenc…"

The wails of the damned soon turned silent, so did the wrathful roars of Woden as he slumped to the ground. Barely hanging onto his life, the god turned towards Irwin, who had removed himself from the dying deity.

"This will not be… the last of me…"

His last words settled unto the wind, silent once more, save from the growing louder laughter of the god killer.

He clutched his side, agonizing from both the wounds and laughter.

"I… I killed a god. Ha!"