Night saw Agamemnon's arrival, but he did not speak to him, since his current official status was still that of a traitor escaping the camp.
"It's time to go," He said, pulling out the Sun Spear.
The weapon's terrifying power had been completely drawn back into the shaft so it wouldn't harm their surroundings anymore.
He mounted his horse and called for Briseis to follow.
Athena, who had long since transformed back into an owl, flew onto Night's head.
After pulling up the frantic Briseis, the young man immediately spurred his horse and left.
Achilles watched the scene without making any move to stop them. Instead, he turned a cold gaze toward Agamemnon.
If the king was here to stop Griffith from leaving, then even if it meant exposing his own secret alliance and defecting, he would leave Agamemnon right here.
To be honest, he had wanted to kill this guy for a long time!
Last time Athena stopped him, but this time Athena left with Griffith, so no one should be around to stop him, right?
When enemies meet, their eyes burn with pure hatred.
Right now, it wasn't just Achilles; Agamemnon's gaze toward Achilles had also become incredibly fierce.
Especially because Night's previous miserable appearance had shaken his heart, he immediately blamed all of it onto Achilles.
Was it him?!
Did he violently rip the divine artifact straight off Griffith's body?
How incredibly cruel!
Great hero Achilles, you always call me a tyrant, but isn't what you just did far more brutal than anything I have done?
Agamemnon clenched his fists tight.
His mind burned with a fierce rage, mixed deeply with a heavy sense of guilt toward Night. It was his own oversight in forgetting Achilles's position that had led to the Glorious Hero facing such a tragic, miserable fate. Yet, at this very moment, he couldn't even make a move against Achilles.
Looking at the heavily injured Griffith who had just ridden away, and then at Achilles who stood here completely unharmed, King Agamemnon knew he had a far more important duty to fulfill.
And so, through a strange twist of fate, an identical thought flashed simultaneously through the minds of both Achilles and Agamemnon.
**I will absolutely not let him breach this defensive line!**
A ruthless, decisive resolve flared in the hearts of both men.
They were ready to gamble everything, driven by the absolute conviction to protect and stand by their friend.
This was the perfect place to settle it once and for all. This was a battle to protect a comrade.
Sharing the exact same guilt toward Night, with a raging fury they had no way to vent, the two heroes remained silent as a terrifyingly heavy pressure radiated between them.
Without a word, they placed their hands upon their weapons at the exact same time.
A chilling intent to kill locked their movements, making both men realize that this would be a desperate, lethal struggle.
Yet, remarkably, it wasn't Agamemnon who felt the pressure, but rather Achilles.
He actually sensed a strange hint of danger coming from King Agamemnon.
While King Agamemnon possessed decent martial skill, he shouldn't be anywhere near the level of Greece's strongest hero.
What kind of sheer willpower was this man harboring to surpass his own limits and project such a raw sense of crisis?
However, before this potential battle could erupt, the suffocating atmosphere, which felt like a volcano on the verge of blowing or the silence before a roaring thunderstorm, was shattered by the sudden arrival of a third voice.
"Achilles, King Agamemnon... what are you doing here?"
The voice was steady, heavy, and deeply reassuring. When the two turned their heads, they saw Great Ajax, with several other heroes from the Greek camp marching right behind him.
"How... did you all get here?" King Agamemnon's expression tightened.
Achilles was also startled, his expression darkening immediately.
At this exact moment, the same thought flared in the minds of both men, which was that they could not let these heroes find out that Griffith had defected.
However, as King Agamemnon, who could no longer pretend to be unconscious, was desperately trying to manufacture a pretext to lead away these heroes who had been drawn by the massive commotion, a sudden change occurred, dark clouds abruptly massed across the horizon, accompanied by a deafening crash.
A chaotic, bloodthirsty wave of divine will descended upon the land, causing the breaths of every hero present to quicken as their eyes turned red with an uncontrollable urge for violence.
A surge of crimson divine power fell from the sky, and from its depths echoed the unmistakable voice of the War God. It was a divine decree, brooking no disobedience.
"I sense the aura of Athena's divine power! That direction leads to Troy! Pursue them! Hunt them down and bring Griffith back to me!"
By the end of the decree, the War God let out a roaring, furious bellow directed at someone else.
In fact, Ares had been intercepted elsewhere.
The previous commotion had been far too immense.
No matter how much divine power was used to mask the scene, the Sun God Helios suddenly abandoning his celestial duties to drive his chariot down to the mortal realm had drawn the gaze of numerous immortals.
This was especially true for the highly volatile Greek battlefield.
Among those watching was Eris, the Goddess of Discord.
She had also witnessed the hero peeling the divine armor from his own flesh, and while she grew increasingly obsessed with that noble soul, she also felt deeply irritated.
The fruit was growing more delicious by the second, yet she couldn't pluck it, which was thoroughly unpleasant.
Ares truly was utterly useless.
She couldn't believe she shared a bloodline with such an incompetent man; his ability to stir up chaos was inferior to her own, he constantly lost battles against the other high gods, and now he couldn't even handle a single mortal.
Back when the domains were divided, it would have been far more appropriate for her to inherit the mantle of the War God.
Compared to pairs like Apollo and Artemis, or Helios and Selene, Ares looked like a cheap knockoff thrown in as a complimentary gift.
She was the one who had secretly leaked the information about Athena and Griffith to the War God, never expecting the idiot to immediately unleash his divine power with such massive fanfare instead of launching a quiet ambush.
Because he made such a loud scene, he had drawn a fierce interception from Artemis.
As Griffith's patron goddess, even though Artemis's strength had dropped significantly after gifting a conceptual portion of her own divine artifacts to Night, which had led to her defeat by Athena a few days prior, she remained far stronger than a weakling like Ares even in her diminished state.
She had naturally been keeping a close eye on everything occurring around Griffith recently.
In fact, within this specific Greek theater where the gods were steadily gathering their gazes, ever since Night participated in those two incredible battles and stepped fully into the sight of the divine pantheon, one never had to question how many bored gods like Helios were secretly spying on him.
To a certain degree,
Night had no idea that although he wasn't on the main battlefield watched by the gods, the ground beneath his feet had become the most dazzling stage in existence.
His previous regret over not being able to show off his heroic style in front of a massive crowd of gods and heroes had already been fully realized in the shadows.
.
.
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(End of the Chapter)