The Rise Of A Porter

"Hmph... some fallen gods you are. Let's kill them once again!" Sif roared in rage and everyone went into action.Â

It might have appeared to be a usual roared, but it was infused with Asgardian magic. Anyone on her side who would hear her battle cry would receive a significant buff in their strength and agility, while it would make her enemies crawl in fear. This move often resulted in a complete one-sided end to any battle she had ever been a part of.

Heimdall had seen the end result of all those battles with his own eyes. However, this time her trick wouldn't work on them. Why? Because all of them had conquered their senses of fear and were no longer afraid of death and they all had to thank their master for that. After all, he was the one who potentially ended up giving them immortality as even if they die, they would resurrect again and again.Â

Being Undead, their fears had long since been replaced with courage. The only one they would ever be afraid of was the strength of their master and no one else. Not Zeus, not Odin, hell, not even the Immortal one himself would be enough to scare them anymore.

They could, however, still erase them from existence if they put their mind to it. But not scare them ever again and Sif along with her army of Fallen elves were about to learn that now. They were battling the summons of the One Above All, and if the summons couldn't even beat this pathetic excuse of an army then Arnold would never forgive them.Â

"Ogur, a swarm is coming from behind!" Alice yelled into the giant's ears, "Stomp them down."

Since Heimdall and Hercules were busy taking care of Sif and the three of her fck buddies, it was up to Ogur to defend Alice while taking down the elves as well. The best way to do that was to keep the support mage close to him, and he did so by putting her up on his shoulders.Â

That way, Alice was not only able to give buffs to any of her comrades as per the need, but she could also guide Ogur's movements as a secondary bunch of eyes. All in all, they were in perfect sync.Â

The elves madden with rage kept mindlessly charging at them, trying their best to disbalance Ogur and make him fall. It was an ancient tactic but still worked in modern times. The best way to counter a tall enemy was to make him lose his grip on the ground. Once the giant was on the ground, he was more like a sitting duck for the elves to take him down.Â

Their plan was good, but they were foolish if they thought Ogur didn't already know how to handle himself. He must have been a Frost Giant by race, but thanks to Arnold and his logic-defying enhancement techniques, Ogur was able to manipulate the ground beneath his feet.

Although his manipulation ability wasn't as strong as Arnold or even Shyok for that matter, it was enough for him to alter the land in contact with him just enough to not allow him to fall, no matter how much the elves struggled to do so.Â

Even in the event where he did end up falling over, he had Alice buff his defence up so that the elves wouldn't be able to do much if any harm at all to him while he got back to his feet.Â

It might have appeared that Arnold hastily formed the teams up and sent them away to do different tasks, but it was far from the truth. Arnold was completely aware of the fields where his summons lacked and had formed up teams to counter those problems effectively.Â

Alice, even though she was compassionate and kind, couldn't help but laugh at the blatant foolishness of Sif and her boy-toys. They might think they were selected to face Arnold because of their strength and competence, but there was no doubt in Alice's mind that they were simply being treated as guinea pigs by the gods in a poor attempt to assess Arnold's strength after his ascension.Â

That was also the reason why the gods decided to let them have elven flesh and blood. It could be an attempt to analyse the effects of elven blood in detail so that if deemed necessary they could use it to try and subdue Arnold with it.

'They are just the pawns for this game. Nothing more.' Alice thought to herself while throwing buff and debuffs all around the battlefield, 'If I can see through it then Arnold can too. He probably already has... sigh. Why do these Gods even try to outsmart him anymore? Just lay down and let him kill you. That'll be faster for all of us, tsk.'

***

On the other side of the battlefield, Hercules and Heimdall were having a lot of fun as well. It seemed like Sif and the warriors underestimated their strength, just because they had been turned into undead summons.

However, much to their surprise, rather than their strength going down, Hercules and Heimdall were actually much stronger than they had ever been. And it was all thanks to the augmentations and enhancements Arnold had done to them. It appeared that the gods had really underestimated the strength of a creationist for all intent and purposes.Â

"Do you remember what I told to Mimir all those years ago, Volstarg?" Heimdall mumbled as he kicked the warrior yet another time, "No god running on drugs would ever be able to defeat someone like me. I would have never thought there would be a day when I'll tell the same to you."

"You talk too much, Heimdall!" Fendril, the black-haired leader of the warrior three lunged at the former Asgardian, however, he too was sent flying a moment later just like his brother.

"Looks like the Elven blood had lowered your inhibitions," Heimdall swung his blade and a gust of wind knocked the three of them away, "Even in death, I am disappointed as your mentor. I thought you had enough strength and resolve out of everyone present on this battlefield, to be my successor, but looks like I was wrong."

"If you are free to lecture them, would you mind start killing them?" Hercules barked at him while parrying strike after strike from Sif, "Hey! Do you mind? We're having a chat here!"

"Shut your trap, you mongrel!" Sif cursed back at him before kicking him in the abdomen, "You can chat when you reach Valhalla."

"Feisty... no wonder you're Thor's bitch. I heard that guy likes it rough."

"You're dead..." Sif whispered slowly and charged in once again, but this time it was Hercules' turn to kick her away, 'Hm... maybe consuming elven blood makes one unconditionally angry. I had never imagined Sif falling for my taunts for any other reason. I should rid her of her misery yet.'

However, just as Hercules was about to put an end to Sif, a familiar voice echoed inside his head.

'Keep them alive till I get there.'

'As your wish... The One Above All.' Hercules sighed and ended up slamming Sif's head on the ground instead of ripping it off, 'I should probably call you by your name.. This master and god crap, isn't meant for me.'