51 Kritya

Nahusha roared like a winged lion. His fiery fluttering hair in the wind were flames. His hammer crackled with lightning as he brought it down on his enemy, who was dragging away the half-naked woman. 

The furious roar seemed to freeze the man on the spot. His red eyes, behind the helmet, widened as he watched the silver hammer,  which had been soaked in green blood of Vrikshas, and colourless blood of stone-giants countless times. 

The air around him turned into a prison, trapping him like a mouse. Pressure as heavy as the mountain of Illore bored down on him. His rips cracked like dry twigs beneath his battle armour, his legs had long since turned boneless. 

SPLAT! 

The hammer squashed the stunned Moriyan body like a tomato. Nahusha let out a furious roar as he rushed towards the other moryian who was ready for him with his blood-stained axe. . The woman's helpless cries froze into his dry throat as he watched the god of war striking again.