Not So Friendly Anymore

Chapter 49: A Weaver Vs A Butcher II

Anansi didn't give him time to recover.

The golden light around him flared brighter, sharper, colder. He advanced with measured, relentless steps, the Staff of Anansi spinning in tight, precise arcs. Every strike landed with surgical intent. A crushing blow to Gorr's ribs. A sharp crack against his collarbone. A sweeping arc that opened a deep gash across his chest. Black blood sprayed across the broken stones, and for once, the Necrosword struggled to keep up with the damage.

Gorr snarled and lashed out wildly, sending a wave of living shadows surging forward. Anansi didn't even slow down. Golden threads erupted from the staff, weaving through the darkness and tearing it apart mid-air before he closed the distance again and drove the end of the staff straight into Gorr's sternum.

The impact launched the God Butcher backward through what remained of a shattered wall.

Anansi followed without hesitation.

He landed lightly in front of Gorr as the Butcher struggled to rise, and brought the staff down in a brutal overhead strike. Gorr barely managed to raise the Necrosword in time. The clash of gold against black sent another shockwave through the street, but this time Anansi's strength forced Gorr's arms down. Another strike followed. Then another. Each one heavier than the last.

Gorr tried to counter with a vicious horizontal slash. Anansi stepped inside the arc, caught the Necrosword on the shaft of his staff, and twisted. For a brief, shocking moment, he nearly wrenched the weapon from Gorr's grip.

The God Butcher's eyes widened.

Anansi leaned in close, golden eyes burning with cold fury.

"You came here thinking you would butcher gods," he said quietly. "You came here thinking no one would stop you. You were wrong."

He slammed his forehead into Gorr's face, then followed with a rising strike that sent the Butcher crashing into a pile of rubble.

Gorr spat black blood and forced himself back up, breathing harder than he had at any point in the battle. The Necrosword pulsed angrily in his hand, but even it seemed to sense the shift in momentum.

Anansi stood over him, staff resting loosely at his side, golden light still crackling around his form. He looked almost calm, but the cold intensity in his eyes promised no mercy.

"Get up," Anansi said, voice low and even. "I'm not finished with you yet."

Around them, the battlefield had gone quiet. Odin, Thor, and Malice watched in stunned silence as the Weaver of Stories systematically dismantled the God Butcher who had, only minutes earlier, been on the verge of overwhelming them all.

Gorr rose slowly, shadows coiling tighter around him. For the first time, there was something more than hatred in his expression.

There was anger.

And the faintest edge of something that almost looked like respect.

The fight was far from over.

But for now, Anansi was in complete control.

---

From the shattered edge of the Rainbow Bridge, the others watched in stunned silence.

Odin stood tall despite his injuries, Gungnir planted firmly against the stone, his single eye fixed on the fight below with a mixture of pride and quiet awe. Thor leaned heavily on Mjolnir, blood still dripping from a gash on his forehead, his usual boisterous energy replaced by pure disbelief. Malice, silver hair whipping in the wind, crimson energy still faintly flickering around her, stared with wide, burning eyes. Beside her, Sable kept a protective stance near where Peter's body had once lain, her expression caught somewhere between relief and pure shock.