Chapter 62: The God of Thunder Prevails
Thor, the God of Thunder.
Ares recognized him at a glance.
After all, in the Council of Gods, there was no other powerful deity who wielded a short-handled hammer and had a fondness for drinking.
"Thor, are you really willing to submit to the Council of Gods?"
Ares attempted to entice him. "Have you ever considered joining forces with me to reshape the hierarchy? We could take the thrones of King of the Gods and Father of the Gods for ourselves."
"Not interested. Hic…"
Thor let out a loud burp and casually hurled Mjolnir.
The hammer turned into a blur, shooting forward with incredible speed.
Boom!
Mjolnir smashed heavily into a rocky mountain.
Ares watched as the hammer flew past him, having already predicted its trajectory. It was clear the attack had no chance of hitting him.
Thor swayed on his feet, his eyes unfocused and glassy. Ares immediately felt a surge of confidence.
A hopeless drunk—how could he possibly lose?
He sidestepped, easily avoiding Thor's sneaky attempt to summon Mjolnir back for a surprise attack.
"A battle in the sky."
The moment he finished speaking, Ares shot into the clouds, vanishing in an instant.
Thor swung Mjolnir and followed closely behind.
Rumble!
Lightning flashed and thunder roared through the dark clouds above.
From below, no one could see what was happening.
A clash between gods was beyond mortal comprehension.
—
"Princess, the ground is dirty. You shouldn't be lying there."
Allen walked over to check on Diana's condition.
From the outside, she appeared uninjured—just covered in dust, her eyes vacant, as if trapped in an emotional breakdown.
It seemed the defeat had hit her hard, leaving her completely unresponsive.
The proud princess of Themyscira had been utterly overpowered in front of so many people. It was a humiliating, crushing blow.
"Beep-boop, beep-boop! Chief Psychiatrist Allen from Greenhill Rehabilitation Center has arrived at the scene of the accident."
Seeing Diana frozen in place, Allen waved a hand in front of her face and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The patient's condition is severe."
"Dr. Allen, what's the diagnosis?"
Allen solemnly addressed his right hand. "Nurse Right, she's suffering from emotional trauma. As an expert in emotional psychology, I can diagnose this at a glance. She needs a new romantic relationship to fill the void left by her previous one."
"Don't believe him. He's just a lunatic."
Allen turned to his left hand and said sternly, "Nurse Left, do not question my medical authority."
At that moment, Diana sat up and gave Allen a helpless look.
—
Meanwhile, the battle on the island continued. The nobles fought fiercely against the Atlantean soldiers. If it weren't for Nanaue holding the line, they would have been wiped out by now—their numbers were simply too few.
Diana, regaining her fighting spirit, immediately intervened in the duel between the two kings, turning the tide of battle in an instant.
She might not be able to defeat Ares, but she could certainly handle a mutant.
With a brilliant flash of firelight, the God Killer Sword cleaved through the Trident of Royal Authority, sealing Atlantis' defeat.
From behind, Namor restrained Atlan's arms while Diana pressed her divine sword against his throat.
"You think my gun is loaded?"
Allen joined the scene, pressing two energy weapons against Atlan's crotch.
The victor takes all.
Atlan maintained a regal demeanor. "Do it. I will not die alone."
He was clearly referring to the families of Namor's loyal followers—if he perished, they would undoubtedly be executed in retaliation.
For a moment, the situation became a dangerous standoff.
"You're not afraid of death?"
Diana frowned. Handling a prisoner who had nothing to lose was always a headache.
"I am," Atlan admitted. "But I've already arranged my contingency plans."
"If I die, the Oceanic United Kingdom will continue its course—eliminating the co-existence faction and launching war against Themyscira. Nothing will stop it."
—
"Pirate King, this guy is way too dedicated to his role. He's hitting us with an open conspiracy. What do you think?"
Allen pressed his energy weapons against Atlan's chest, smirking. "Let me guess, you're trying to bargain for your life. Fine. Release the hostages, end the war, throw in a few tons of magic metal, and send over a shipment of fine wine. I'll even buy you dinner. Fair deal, right?"
Atlan's expression stiffened. That was his intention.
But demanding tons of magical metal? That was utterly unreasonable.
Seventh Metal was an incredibly scarce resource in Atlantis, reserved for crafting royal tridents. Every bit of it used was a permanent loss—it was impossible to squander.
"There isn't that much Seventh Metal," Atlan said bluntly.
"How much can you spare?"
"At most, thirty pounds."
Allen shot a glance at Diana. "Cut off both his hands and feet. He'll still be alive."
"Wait! Forty pounds!"
Atlan panicked—living without limbs was worse than death.
"One hand and both legs."
"Fifty pounds!"
"Just the legs."
"Sixty pounds!"
"One leg."
"Seventy pounds!"
"Deal."
Allen needed Seventh Metal to craft new gear. The enemies they were facing were simply too powerful. Without a proper set of armor, he'd never feel safe.
As for Namor reclaiming his throne—that wasn't happening.
How could he possibly govern a nation that completely despised him? It would be better to take his loyal followers and find a new home.
Ruling through sheer force was never a lasting solution.
If it wasn't Atlan rebelling today, it would be someone else tomorrow. Then another the day after. There would never be peace.
Ending the war aligned with Diana's goals. She didn't care who ruled Atlantis—as long as they left Themyscira alone.
As for the wine? That was for Thor. A little goodwill never hurt.
With all sides benefiting, the deal was sealed.
—
After everything, Namor had lost all interest in fighting for the throne. A sense of nihilism crept over him.
Diana, on the other hand, had achieved her objective. She also now understood that Ares was the mastermind behind the conflict.
Without Ares stirring the flames, Atlantis would never have waged such a reckless war.
—
"Oh, right. Add a pink dolphin to the deal."
Allen suddenly remembered Nanaue, who had been pestering him about wanting a pink dolphin. Might as well settle it now.
All that remained was to wait for the battle in the sky to conclude.
If Ares won, the deal was off.
Boom!
Thunder crashed across the sky.
In an instant, the storm clouds dispersed, revealing Thor standing tall in the air.
His golden hair was streaked with blood, and fresh wounds dripped down his face.
"Come out, coward! Running away mid-battle—some 'God of War' you are. You should call yourself the God of Running!"
Thor scanned the surroundings but received no response.
The battle had been decided.
Thor had won.
—
"High Priest of the Moon, let me buy you a drink!"
Allen shouted toward the sky.
The moment Thor heard drinks, his eyes lit up, and he crash-landed in front of them.
"What kind of drink could possibly be good in the mortal world? Asgardian mead is the finest in existence!"
"Try it first and see for yourself."
Whether Atlantis' liquor was any good, Allen had no idea. He didn't drink—alcohol was bad for his health. His mind was already a mess; he didn't need his body breaking down too.
Atlan ordered his men to prepare the ransom. He no longer held onto any illusions of victory.
Ares had approached him with grand promises—dreams of using Atlantis to conquer the world and establish a divine warlord state.
Now, that dream was dead.
It had never been anything more than a fool's fantasy.