In this land, the gods often intervened in mortal affairs, weaving their influence through the lives of those who worshipped them. This time, however, the gods found themselves entangled in a problem of their own. A thief had managed to steal a sacred object known as the Heart of Spring, which honored Rhea, the revered goddess of fertility and earth.

Antioch was particularly incensed. He respected the art of thievery, but this act crossed a line, no one steals from his beloved grandmother. He vowed to retrieve the Heart of Spring, to draw the thief out, Antioch devised a plan that would lure him into revealing himself.

"This isn't the time for one of your ridiculous schemes," Igor grumbled to Antioch. "Let's just crush him!"

"We can't crush him if we don't know where he is," Antioch countered with a sly smile. "That's why we need one of my ridiculous schemes."

"Your schemes always manage to make me look like a fool," Igor remarked.

"My dear brother, it doesn’t take a scheme to do that," Antioch replied with a mischievous grin.

Igor snarled, his muscles tensing as he raised his massive ax, eyes blazing with frustration. "One more word, Antioch, and I’ll—"

Antioch quickly held up his hands, taking a step back with a sheepish smile. "Easy there, big brother. Remember, we’re doing this for Grandmother Rhea," he reminded, his tone turning serious for once.

Igor's grip on the ax loosened slightly, his fierce expression softening at the mention of their grandmother. He lowered his weapon with a reluctant sigh. "Fine. But if this plan of yours goes wrong, I swear—"

"It won’t go wrong," Antioch interrupted confidently. "Trust me, brother. This thief won’t be able to resist the bait we’re about to lay out. We just need to put on a good show.”

Igor grumbled under his breath but gave a grudging nod. "All right, let’s get on with it then. But I’m warning you, Antioch—"

"Yes, yes, if it fails, you’ll turn me into a puddle," Antioch said with a chuckle, patting Igor’s massive shoulder. "Now, let’s go put on the performance of a lifetime."

Antioch, with a flick of his wrist, transformed into the Lucha, a grotesque and towering beast with scales as black as night, eyes glowing a sinister red, and fangs that gleamed in the sunlight. His monstrous form was terrifying, and the stories of the Lucha's cruelty and strength were known far and wide, ensuring that word of his appearance would quickly spread.

Igor made his way to the center of the towns grand square, his presence as imposing as a mountain. In his hand, he held his massive battle-ax, its blade glinting menacingly in the sunlight.

His booming voice echoed through the square, reverberating off the stone walls and capturing the attention of every citizen within earshot. "Citizens of Arlenor!" Igor roared, "Behold, I, Igor, god of strength, stand before you, ready to face the mighty Lucha in a battle for the ages! Gather around and witness as I vanquish this beast with my own hands!"

Igor grimaced as the words left his lips, each syllable grating against his natural inclinations. It sounded like something Artur would say—grandiose, pompous, and far too flowery for his taste. He preferred straightforward action over speeches, a warrior’s strength over a bard’s flair.

"It adds to the drama, brother!" Antioch had insisted earlier.

Igor wasn’t convinced. He suspected his brother had an ulterior motive. "You just want to make me look foolish," he muttered under his breath.

But there was no turning back now. The crowd was gathering, and anticipation buzzed in the air.

They knew well the stories of Igor’s battles, his legendary strength and bravery. To see him battle the Lucha was an opportunity not to be missed. Crowds gathered, filling the square and spilling into the surrounding streets, their eyes wide with anticipation.

The battle began with a thunderous roar from Igor, who charged at the Lucha with the force of a hundred storms. The Lucha, embodying all of Antioch’s cunning, dodged with surprising agility for his massive form, striking back with a ferocious swipe that sent Igor stumbling backward.

The crowd gasped, their excitement palpable. They could feel the ground shake beneath their feet.

Antioch kept the performance intense but carefully controlled, ensuring that no mortals would be harmed by their divine power. Each blow, each dodge was meticulously calculated to keep the audience on the edge of their seats.

Amid the staged chaos of the battle, Antioch, still in his monstrous guise as the Lucha, kept his senses sharp. He had spread rumors throughout the land that an other sacred object, even more valuable than the Heart of Spring, had been moved to Arlenor under heavy guard.

Antioch knew the thief's pride and greed would draw him to Arlenor like a moth to a flame. He had also hinted that the object was hidden in a secure vault beneath the city's largest temple. With Igor's clash against the Lucha captivating the crowd, the thief would see this as the perfect opportunity to slip in unnoticed.

As Igor swung his massive battle-ax in a wide arc, narrowly missing Antioch’s monstrous snout, Antioch feigned a stumble, crashing into the stone wall of a nearby building. The crowd gasped and cheered, their eyes glued to the spectacle. In the midst of this performance, Antioch’s eyes darted through the mass of onlookers, searching for any sign of the thief.

Antioch soon spotted a figure moving against the flow of the crowd. Unlike the citizens who were pressing forward to catch a better view of the fight, this figure was slipping away, moving with the stealth and purpose of someone who had no interest in the spectacle but rather in something else entirely.

"There you are," Antioch thought, a grin spreading beneath his monstrous disguise. Igor, sensing a shift in Antioch’s focus, followed his brother’s gaze while continuing his own theatrical assault. He saw the cloaked figure heading toward the temple steps, away from the crowd and toward the hidden entrance to the temple’s underground vault.

Antioch let out a deafening roar and lunged at Igor, who countered with a mighty swing that sent a gust of wind through the square. Stones cracked and dust filled the air as Antioch intentionally overacted, falling to the ground with a thunderous crash that sent tremors through the earth. The ground shook, causing a few in the crowd to lose their footing, but they cheered all the louder, thinking the battle had taken a dramatic turn.

With the crowd’s attention completely absorbed by the spectacle, the cloaked figure made his move, darting up the steps and disappearing into the shadows of the temple.

Antioch, his eyes never leaving the thief, gave a quick signal to Igor. With a mighty leap, Igor brought his ax down, narrowly missing Antioch’s head but striking the ground with such force that a shockwave rippled through the square, creating a plume of dust that obscured the crowd’s view.

Seizing this moment, Antioch used his divine speed to slip away unnoticed. He melted into the shadows, his monstrous form shrinking back into his usual self as he silently pursued the thief.

Inside the temple, the thief moved quickly. He approached the vault door, a smug grin on his face, certain that he had outwitted the gods once again.

But as he reached for the hidden latch, a voice echoed through the chamber. “Looking for something?”

The thief spun around, his eyes widening in shock as he saw Antioch standing there, arms crossed, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Antioch taunted, his voice filled with mockery.

The thief, realizing he had been caught, drew a dagger from his belt, eyes darting for an escape route. “I’ll cut my way out if I have to!” he snarled.

Antioch laughed, a low, confident chuckle. “I’d love to see you try. But let’s be honest, you’re outmatched. Hand over the Heart of Spring, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you leave with your dignity intact.”

The thief hesitated, his pride battling with his sense of self-preservation. Before he could decide, Igor appeared behind him, blocking his escape. The thief turned to see the imposing figure of the god of strength, his massive frame filling the narrow corridor, his expression one of barely restrained fury.

“It’s over,” Igor rumbled. “Give it up.”

Seeing no way out, the thief finally relented. With a defeated sigh, he reached into his cloak and pulled out the Heart of Spring, the crystal glowing softly in his hand.

Antioch stepped forward, taking the crystal. “Good choice,” he said, tucking it safely away.

“Now, as for you…” Igor said as he cracked his knuckles.

Antioch's eyes flicked to Igor, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Brother, we don’t have time for a lengthy beating. The crowd outside is expecting a grand finale to our little performance."

Igor's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" he asked, still holding his ground like a boulder in the narrow corridor.

Antioch rolled his eyes, motioning with his hands as if to remind his brother of the task at hand. "We need to finish the show before they start wondering where the Lucha went. Knock him out and tie him up. Quickly! The mortals are expecting an ending that lives up to all the hype we've created."

The thief's eyes widened in panic, realizing that his fate now rested in the hands of these two powerful gods. He took a step back, raising his dagger in a last-ditch effort to defend himself. "Stay back! I swear I'll—"

Before the thief could finish his threat, Igor moved with blinding speed. He disarmed the thief, sending the dagger clattering to the floor. Then, with the same hand, he delivered a quick, precise chop to the side of the thief's neck. The thief's eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"That was... efficient," Antioch commented, already pulling a length of rope from his cloak. He tossed it to Igor, who deftly caught it and began securing the thief’s hands and feet.

"I hate efficiency," Igor grunted, making sure the knots were tight and secure. "Now, let's get this over with."

After securing the thief in a small storage room off the main corridor, Antioch quickly shifted back into his monstrous form, assuming the terrifying guise of the Lucha once more. He took a moment to check his appearance, ensuring that every scale, fang, and claw was perfectly in place, and then hurried back out to the square.

As he emerged into the sunlight, the crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement renewed at the sight of the great beast returning for the battle's climax. Igor stood in the center of the square, his ax raised high.

Antioch let out a mighty roar, stomping toward Igor with all the ferocity he could muster. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the crowd gasped in awe.

Igor let out a battle cry of his own and charged forward, his ax swinging with immense power. The two clashed in a display of raw strength and fury, each blow and counterblow sending shockwaves through the square.

The crowd was enthralled, every eye glued to the spectacle before them. They cheered and shouted, urging Igor on, their voices rising to a fever pitch as the battle reached its zenith.

With one final, mighty swing, Igor brought his ax crashing down on the Lucha’s head. Antioch, anticipating the blow, timed his reaction perfectly, letting out a pained roar as he staggered back, falling to his knees. He made sure to keep his movements controlled, landing with enough force to shake the ground but not enough to cause any real damage.

As the Lucha fell, the crowd erupted into wild applause, their cheers echoing through the square. Igor stood over the fallen beast, his chest heaving with exertion, his expression one of triumphant victory.

"Say the line," Antioch whispered to Igor. Igor rolled his eyes, clearly not enthusiastic about it, but he spoke anyway.

"Let this be a lesson to all who would challenge the gods!" Igor bellowed, raising his ax high above his head. "No beast, no matter how powerful, can stand against the might of the gods!"

The crowd roared their approval, chanting Igor’s name and celebrating the victory they had just witnessed.

Antioch, still in his monstrous form, gave a low, rumbling groan and slowly began to shrink, his massive form dissolving into wisps of smoke that drifted up into the sky. As he disappeared, the crowd gasped, awed by the divine spectacle they had been fortunate enough to witness.

Verse 1 

In the town of Arlenor, the shadows grew long, 

A beast from the darkness, mighty and strong, 

The Lucha they called it, with scales black as night, 

Eyes burning red with a sinister light. 

Chorus 

Igor, the god of strength, stood tall, 

With his battle-ax raised, he answered the call, 

"Come forth, mighty Lucha, face me today, 

No beast can withstand the power I display!" 

Verse 2 

The Lucha roared, shaking the ground, 

Its fearsome cry a terrible sound, 

But Igor stood firm, in the town's grand square, 

With a heart full of courage, he met the beast's glare. 

Chorus 

Igor, the god of strength, stood tall, 

With his battle-ax raised, he answered the call, 

"Come forth, mighty Lucha, face me today, 

No beast can withstand the power I display!" 

Verse 3 

The battle commenced with a clash and a roar, 

Igor charged forward, his ax swinging for war, 

The Lucha lunged, but Igor dodged the attack, 

With a mighty swing, he sent the beast back. 

Chorus 

Igor, the god of strength, stood tall, 

With his battle-ax raised, he answered the call, 

"Come forth, mighty Lucha, face me today, 

No beast can withstand the power I display!" 

Verse 4 

Dust filled the air, the ground cracked beneath, 

As the Lucha stumbled and gnawed with its teeth, 

Igor leaped high, with power divine, 

And struck with his ax, a perfect line. 

Chorus

Igor, the god of strength, stood tall, 

With his battle-ax raised, he answered the call, 

"Come forth, mighty Lucha, face me today, 

No beast can withstand the power I display!" 

Bridge 

With one final swing, Igor brought it down, 

The Lucha fell hard, a tremor shook the town, 

The people cheered, their hearts filled with pride, 

For the god of strength, who fought by their side. 

Verse 5

As the Lucha dissolved into smoke and mist, 

Igor raised his ax, his strength did persist, 

"Let this be a lesson," he cried to the sky, 

"No beast can match the gods who never die!" 

Chorus 

Igor, the god of strength, stood tall, 

With his battle-ax raised, he answered the call, 

"Come forth, mighty Lucha, face me today, 

No beast can withstand the power I display!" 

Outro 

The people of Arlenor sang through the night, 

Of Igor's great battle and his powerful might, 

A tale of strength, a tale of pride, 

Of a god who stood tall, with his people beside.