The first Marauder moved like a blur of red steel.
It lunged—both axes swinging.
Thor ducked low, slammed his hammer straight into its gut.
Crunch.
Metal bent. Ribs shattered.
The Marauder spat blood, flew backward like a broken doll, smashing into the side of a half-burned cottage. The wall gave way.
The paladins didn't wait.
Spears pierced the charging lesser demons, lances of glowing steel ripping through warped flesh. Shields slammed against clawed hands. Limbs flew.
But the Barons?
They didn't fall easy.
One bull-rushed straight through two paladins. Their bodies hit the ground with a sound that didn't belong in a mortal world—wet and final.
Thor growled, turned, hurled Mjolnir.
It spun once.
Twice.
BOOM—
The hammer connected with the Baron's chest. The beast didn't fall. It exploded.
Chunks of meat, shards of blackened armor, and molten bone scattered across the field. The shockwave cracked the dirt. Blood mist hung in the air.
Thor caught the returning hammer mid-spin.
Another Marauder came from the left. It leapt—blades out.
Thor stepped forward and caught the beast mid-air by the skull. He didn't swing. He crushed.
His gauntlet closed. Bones folded.
The demon twitched once.
Then went still.
The paladins were holding—but barely.
"Behind you!" one shouted.
Another Baron charged.
Thor spun, lifting his arm. Mjolnir crackled, lightning snapping down from the sky—direct hit.
The Baron didn't die instantly.
It screamed. Flesh melted off its face. Armor cracked. But it kept moving.
Until Thor stepped in and jammed the hammer down its throat.
One final boom.
Its head ceased to exist.
"Fall back to formation!" shouted the lead paladin. "We regroup at the ridge!"
"No." Thor stepped forward, eyes locked on the remaining pack. "We end this. Now."
Another burst of lightning. He charged.
A demon tried to flank him.
He kicked it sideways, snapping its spine against a boulder.
The sky lit up again—Mjolnir spinning faster now. Thor moved like a storm trapped in flesh. Limbs tore. Skulls cracked.
A Marauder tried to block with its axe.
Thor caught the axe, twisted it free, then drove it through the creature's own throat. He didn't stop there—he ripped off the thing's jaw and hurled it like a knife into another's chest.
The battlefield was drenched in red now.
Ash fell like snow.
One Baron tried to run.
Thor chased it down, grabbed it by the horn, and dragged it screaming through a stone pillar, leaving a long trail of pulverized earth in its wake.
Then silence.
Breathing.
Paladins, bloodied and panting, formed up behind him. The remaining demons had fled or died screaming.
Thor stood in the middle of the carnage.
Covered in gore.
His chest rose and fell, slow.
"They weren't sent here for this world," he muttered.
"They were sent for me."
He looked up at the sky—storm clouds flickering above.
"And someone out there knows I'm here."