{Chapter: 349 Delaying Time}
William pointed at the colossal Mangog, his arm trembling slightly from strain, but his eyes blazing with unrelenting fury. "This time," he growled, voice echoing across the broken battlefield, "I will utterly annihilate Asgard. If you dare provoke me again, then let it be known—when you challenge William, the only thing that awaits you is complete destruction!"
The Mangog threw his head back and let out a deep, guttural laugh that rumbled like thunder through the shattered mountains. "You? You're about to fall apart, and still you bark like a mongrel? You can barely stand. You couldn't kill me even at full strength—what makes you think you can now?"
William glanced down at his body, sparks arcing violently across his frame. The golden light that once gleamed confidently had begun to flicker, as if his cells were breaking apart. Deformed elemental particles peeled off his arms and chest, and faint fractures raced along his skin like cracks in porcelain as they disappear with constant blue light flashing.
"You're asking where my confidence comes from?" he said, tapping his chest with a faint smirk. Thump. Thump. "Right here. From the heart. Confidence is all a man needs. Without it, you might as well be flopping around like a fish gasping on land."
"In my eyes," Mangog growled, voice layered with the pain and rage of a thousand voices, "you already are that fish. Flailing. Helpless. Your bravado means nothing. I am the living fury of Asgard's fallen, its tortured, betrayed, and forgotten. I exist for one purpose only: to obliterate you. To burn away the stain you've left on our legacy and restore Asgard's true glory!"
William scoffed, casually resting his massive machete across his shoulder. "Wow. That's a hell of a speech. You've got Heimdall beat for drama. You really should try politics instead of war."
The crowd of Asgardians looked on, stunned and fearful. The air itself seemed to tremble as these two forces prepared to clash again.
Mangog's tone turned frigid. "Surrender the Tesseract and the Casket of Ancient Winters. Now. They are relics of the Realm Eternal—not yours to claim, thief."
"You mean those?" William flicked his thumb behind him. "Let me clarify something, big guy. I never once believed those belonged to Asgard. They belong to power. They belong to the strongest." His eyes flashed with intensity. "And that's me."
Mangog clenched his massive fists, his body beginning to pulse with golden rage. "Strong?" he snarled. "You? You're a dying man grasping for glory. Surrender now, and I may just leave you mostly intact."
William gave a slow shake of his head, his grin widening. "Come try me, you pig."
"You talk too much!" Mangog roared, leaping from the air with a blinding burst of speed.
William's smile didn't fade. "You ever consider I'm just stalling for fun? Not to buy time—but to piss you off. Mission accomplished, Drag-your-mother."
"WHAT?" Mangog howled in fury and vanished from view.
"Teleportation," William said with a sigh, sensing the shift in space. "Seriously? At least be original."
With instinctive precision, William slashed his golden machete straight up.
CLANG!
A violent shockwave exploded outward as steel met steel. Mangog's massive axe slammed against the machete mid-air, but William didn't budge. His feet gouged deep into the cracked stone below.
"How—how did you know where I was?" Mangog snarled.
"You think I can't read an amateur's movement?" William roared back. "Are all Asgardian warriors this thick-headed? I've fought fire giants with better stealth. Your surprise attacks are as subtle as a frost giant's footstep! Are all the warriors of Asgard pigs? Thousands of pigs gathered together to form a super big idiot like you. "
William's right arm surged with red-gold light. "Let me give you a real surprise."
He thrust his hand forward, conjuring a fiery orb of intense flames. The flames twisted into a sphere over thirty meters wide, radiating with the heat of a small sun.
BOOOOM!
The fireball rocketed directly at Mangog's groin.
An enormous explosion shattered the air, sending the Mangog flying backward with a shockwave that flattened nearby spires. He landed with a thunderous crash, his chest smoking and his waist scorched black.
"RRAAARGH!!" Mangog bellowed, dragging himself up, the ground beneath him trembling with his fury. The skin around his midsection was charred, cracked like lava stone. "William... I will carve your bones into weapons and feast on your ashes!"
"Woah, woah, slow down there, Mangog-wannabe," William said, raising a hand. "Before you throw another tantrum—don't you wanna know how I really saw you coming?"
Mangog snarled and began marching forward, his hulking form burning with renewed fury.
"Talk all you want," the Mangog growled, eyes burning like twin infernos. "But nothing you say will stop me now. Your words are wind. Your body is crumbling. And once you're dead, no one will care what you had to say."
He stepped forward, voice thundering like a war drum. "It doesn't matter what you've planned. As long as I kill you, everything else is irrelevant. Asgard's rage will be sated with your blood."
William, hunched and barely holding his form together, smirked through the pain. Arcs of lightning danced over his cracked skin, and his body flickered like a hologram at the edge of collapse.
"Why the rush?" he asked coolly, his tone almost teasing. "Look at me—I'm falling apart at the seams. I won't last another thirty seconds. You'll have your victory. So why the impatience?"
The Mangog stopped short, narrowing his burning gaze. "You were spitting confidence just moments ago. What happened? Lost your nerve?"
William gave a short, ironic laugh. "That was psychological warfare. Y'know—intimidation. Get into your head. Make you second-guess."
"Intimidation? You?" Mangog's voice was laced with disgust and mockery. "You're like a fish flopping in the mud—utterly helpless. It's pathetic. You call that a tactic? It's desperation, plain and simple."
"Sure, call it what you want." William's smile didn't falter. "I prefer the term last-ditch effort. Has a nicer ring to it."
Mangog's jaw clenched, pride flaring behind his rage. "You're wasting your breath. Say what you need to. I'll give you ten seconds."
William raised one cracked hand and waggled a finger. "Alright then. Fun fact—teleportation? Kinda pointless when you're fighting someone who can read the air pressure shifts and trace you with telekinesis. Doesn't matter where you blink to, I'll feel it."
The Mangog blinked, taken slightly aback.
William's smirk deepened, and he flipped his middle finger at the behemoth. "Now who's the idiot?"
"YOU INSOLENT MORTAL!" Mangog roared, his fury echoing across the shattered battlefield.
"Wait!" William shouted, grinning madly. "Just one more thing! You wanna know why I've been running my mouth non-stop?"
"I don't care!" the Mangog thundered, launching himself forward with terrifying speed, axe raised high.
"But I do," William said with laughter bubbling from his throat. "I've been buying time, you flaming pile of stupidity."
"DELAYS ARE USELESS—DIE!"
The Mangog slammed the massive golden axe down with the force of a comet.
BANG!
The sound cracked the skies as the golden weapon split William's form in two, from right shoulder to left hip, leaving a smoking, ragged gash that tore through his failing body.
"WILLIAM!" Jane shrieked from the sidelines, her voice breaking.
Lady Sif clenched her fists hard enough to draw blood. She turned her face away, unable to bear the sight.
Asgardian spectators erupted in a thunderous cheer, chanting Mangog's name like a chorus of war-horns. They saw a hero fall—and their vengeance rise.
But in the heart of the battlefield, William—bloodied and broken—laughed.
"You… wanna know why I didn't fight back?" he asked weakly, his voice echoing like a dying ember.
"You've lost!" Mangog spat, his rage unwavering. "I'll make sure there's nothing left to bury!"
With a bellow, the Mangog swung again.
CRASH!
Instead of blood, his axe sliced through air—and William dissolved before him into a cloud of gold and blue Transformium particles.
"Because…" William's voice echoed from the particle storm, "this body was collapsing anyway. You just sped up the inevitable. Your axe or time—it made no difference."
A shimmering blue flash the battlefield as 99% of the Transformium particles disappeared into the wind like fireflies fading into the stars.
Only a single sliver—1%—remained, golden and brilliant, spiraling slowly downward.
Then—impact.
William reformed on one knee, hand planted against the scorched ground, breath heavy, face bathed in sweat and searing pain. Seven golden strands of deformed particles returned to him like guided missiles, piercing into his body—spine, limbs, head—embedding themselves into his bones like anchors of power.
The Mangog, now only eight meters tall and radiating raw power, stepped forward. His giant form had compressed, coiled tight with violence, like a god of vengeance ready to strike.
"You're stubborn," he growled. "But it ends here. This time, no tricks. No comebacks. Only death."
He raised his axe once more, eyes blazing with the fury of countless Asgardian souls.
"For the GLORY of ASGARD!"
WHOOSH! The axe descended.
William raised his head slowly.
His face—taut with agony—was tinted with a sickly green hue. His eyes glowed with an unnatural, crystalline green light that flickered like lightning trapped in glass.
He looked broken.
But something inside him refused to fall.
He smiled.
A terrifying smile.