"Let those doctors wait. We're heading back today!"
Rumlow's body recovered quickly with the help of the potion, possibly aided by the knuckle-duster.
After all, doubling peak human physicality significantly boosted his recovery.
Correspondingly, his appetite surged, likely due to his enhanced body's increased need for nutrients.
"Can I smoke now?"
Tess's expression was eager. Since their arrival, they'd been on mission, and days without smoking had left him craving tobacco intensely.
"Outside! And clean up your trash!"
Rumlow felt an inexplicable reverence for this suddenly appeared sacred mountain, distinct from the resolve he'd felt when pledging himself to Hydra—purer, perhaps?
He couldn't pinpoint how this emotion emerged, but he was certain he didn't dislike it.
…
Rumlow couldn't understand why he dragged his unhealed body to the entrance of the Elders' Temple, as if guided by a divine force.
After witnessing things beyond comprehension in such a short time, he was fearless.
"Great Bul-Kathos, are you there?"
Rumlow knew his behavior mirrored those brainwashed by Hydra, but he dismissed their lack of self. What were those hollow shells and Hydra compared to the barbarians?
He was growing fervent, awed by the sacred mountain's presence.
Bul-Kathos stepped through a blue portal, appearing at the temple's entrance.
Clad in a kilt and iron boots, his battle-hardened body was bared before Rumlow.
The temple's unique power disabled electronic devices; even taking a photo would require an old film camera.
Despite Nick Fury's relentless attempts to reconnect and orders for Tess to locate Rumlow, only the two men stood at the temple.
"Brock Rumlow, frankly, I don't like people like you."
Bul-Kathos's voice boomed like a bell through the vast temple, his disdain clear in Rumlow's eyes.
"I passed the secret realm!"
The moment he cleared it, Rumlow sensed he'd earned a chance—a chance to become a barbarian, to inherit Nephalem blood.
"But you haven't passed the trial!"
Bul-Kathos's tone dripped with unmistakable contempt.
In Rumlow's eyes, a pair of golden-orange wings shimmered behind Bul-Kathos, embodying courage itself.
"Then give me the trial!"
If Nick Fury saw Rumlow's expression, it would spark a lengthy investigation.
Fanaticism, savagery, and a justice not reflected in appearances mingled in him.
The expression of Rumlow, who'd committed countless cruel and dark deeds, resembled the noble visage of the legendary Captain America.
"Ha! What do you think this place is? What are barbarians?"
Bul-Kathos roared deafeningly, striding down the temple steps.
"We fight and claim glory!"
"We slaughter and bathe in war!"
"We are rough, forthright, and fearless!"
"We are justice! We are hope!"
His voice grew louder with each step.
"And you! What right do you have to join us?"
"Surrounded by the resentment of humanity, with no respect for life!"
"Not a shred of honor in you!"
"I could smell the stench on you from the start—no better than Hell's demons!"
Bul-Kathos's body swelled, grotesque horns sprouting on his forehead.
As his over-three-meter-tall frame loomed before Rumlow, his rage seemed to melt the surrounding snow.
Rumlow felt the Barbarian King's tangible fury, and for the first time, guilt for his past surged within him.
"So tell me! What makes you worthy?"
Bul-Kathos admired a warrior's courage but couldn't tolerate evil's existence.
The two weren't mutually exclusive!
Rumlow's tenacity as a warrior earned barbarian recognition, but his sins were laid bare in their perception.
His rage blazed; flames atop the temple plaza's stone pillars flared, radiating destructive heat.
Under the Barbarian King's intimidation, Rumlow felt a suffocating dread, as if Death itself loomed.
He didn't bother with excuses about S.H.I.E.L.D. protecting world security or Hydra's lofty ideals.
In the Elders' Temple, no one could deny their truest self.
Hydra's beliefs and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ideals were mere shells around Rumlow.
So long had passed that he couldn't recall how many years it had been.
Stripped of all facades, he faced himself clearly for the first time.
Under Bul-Kathos's red-glowing gaze, Rumlow slowly sank to the ground.
He pressed his head into the earth, writhing like a maggot.
Bul-Kathos had no patience for this farce, drawing a menacing giant hammer from his waist.
"Merciless," the primal legendary weapon gifted by ancestor Mokot.
He intended to grant this power-hungry, sin-stained warrior an honorable death.
"Bul-Kathos!"
An ancestral phantom appeared, raising a broken greatsword to block Bul-Kathos's hammer!
"Defender Talic! What are you doing?"
Bul-Kathos roared, swinging Merciless, his frenzied stance whipping up gales that tossed Rumlow like a feather.
"Stopping you from taking the life of a warrior willing to repent!"
Talic's weapon met Bul-Kathos's in a fierce clash!
The clang of metal amplified the blazing flames!
"Proof of Shame! Talic, you defy me for this wretch?"
Bul-Kathos shouted, drawing a twisted greatsword with his other hand, joining the frenzied melee.
"You're not the Immortal King! You're not Volusk's unstoppable force!"
Talic's form solidified, shedding its spectral nature, revealing the true power of the mightiest ancestors.
"He's dead! Now, only my banner flies high!"
Bul-Kathos's body glowed with red fury, flames spreading like a halo.
Even the second Immortal King, Volusk, might not best him now.
His torso twisted, muscles tensing, signaling to Talic what was coming!
The Whirlwind that shattered the Black Soulstone!
(End of Chapter)
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