He was impressed. She did not flinch at all as he approached her. There were not many that could make such a claim. She was covered in as much blood as he and seemed as equally unbothered by the gore. He was starting to rethink his original assessment of her. Perhaps she was a goddess of war. He had heard that the Greeks had such women.
“Your army lies under your feet,” he said, laughing at her offer. “I do not think I will be detained in any direction I chose to walk.” The thought of anyone keeping him from what he needed to do was ludicrous. This Greek obviously had no idea who they were speaking with. He would have to introduce himself before she said anything else foolish.
“I am Nergal of Sumer,” he told her, standing even taller. “Son of Enlil and Ninlil. Lord of Irkalla, the bringer of death and disease. I am the Beast of War.” He would skip over the various means of death that he controlled. She would find them out soon enough as the war continued.
Giving the Greek a closer look, he could that he was indeed mistaken in his first assessment of her. She was armed with equipment much superior to that of a common soldier. She also carried her self with more pride and dignity than he had seen from any other Greek. Nergal smiled as he realized that she was no gatherer of souls.