The sheer nobility of the self-sacrificing hero and his feat of tearing away his own armor would be absolutely shocking even to modern audiences who were well-versed in countless epic tales and possessed highly critical standards for a hero's character.
Placed amidst this group of selfish, counterfeit figures, the radiance of a true hero was like a diamond glittering in the sunlit sand, completely unmasking the entire Greek era with an overwhelming display of character.
It was no wonder Helios couldn't resist manifesting to gift him top-tier equipment.
While the other gods didn't show themselves openly, every single one of them had received a profound mental shock.
At the very least, Night's mission to establish an incredible reputation among the gods was completely fulfilled.
Deep down, Eris cursed Ares for his absolute incompetence while realizing she would have to step in personally.
Meanwhile, under the War God's command, the mortal heroes also prepared to mobilize.
Once they caught up to Griffith, they would surely witness the aftermath of him surrendering the divine armor, and even if the visual impact wasn't as great as watching it live, it would still be immense.
At the same exact time, a deafening crash echoed across the sky as the atmosphere let out a violent wail.
The War God was roaring in pure fury.
Because he had been blocked by Artemis, who was operating at a fraction of her power and had just lost to Athena, Ares was still being thoroughly humiliated in combat, displaying his usual incompetence with perfect stability.
Suppressed by arrows capable of tearing continents apart, he couldn't advance a single step and could only rage blindly, finally projecting his divine will across the entire Trojan territory.
"Go! Capture Griffith and bring him back to me! Lock down every outpost on the road to Troy! Heroes, capture him alive!"
Even when issuing a divine command,
Ares remained entirely unwilling to declare Night a traitor, strictly ordering the heroes to bring him back completely unharmed.
This single detail left the heroes of the Greek camp incredibly busy.
Entirely oblivious to the fact that a goddess was personally protecting Night, they had no idea what was happening; they only knew they had to face Griffith as an enemy.
And they had to capture that monster alive?!
After hearing the divine decree, the heroes cursed internally.
This was a man whose pure aura could suppress the demigod Penthesilea and whose martial arts allowed him to duel Hector, the strongest warrior of Troy.
Simply defeating such a hero was a monumental task, let alone capturing him alive.
Even so, the heroes mobilized in massive numbers, hoping to win through sheer weight of numbers.
The first heroes to locate Night were Phoenix and Lesser Ajax, who were stationed at a nearby city-state along the path to Troy.
When they caught sight of Night's blood-drenched form, Lesser Ajax, who had been cursing his luck over running into Night, instantly smiled.
He was highly arrogant, but he wasn't stupid.
Given Night's previous display on the battlefield, the man could easily thrash a hundred versions of him, so there was no reason to gamble his life over a command from the War God.
He had originally intended to simply slack off alongside Phoenix, the wise counselor who was one of the two friends Achilles brought to the war.
He never expected Night's escape route to run directly through his position.
Seeing the incredibly miserable appearance Griffith was sporting, Lesser Ajax felt there was an easy advantage to be taken.
His excitement flared as his old habits surfaced.
A heavily damaged Griffith! Lesser Ajax felt he could win this easily.
"Phoenix, our good fortune has arrived! Look at our great hero Griffith, covered in wounds like that; I bet even a wild boar could knock him over right now! In his weakened state, I can see military glory and honor waving at us. As long as we crush Griffith, our names will instantly echo across the entire Greek battlefield!"
Conversely, Phoenix did not agree with those words at all.
A starved camel was still larger than a horse, and he didn't believe the two of them could defeat Griffith. Furthermore, looking at that shocking, battle-damaged appearance, he made no move to draw his weapon, completely ignoring the idiotic comments of Lesser Ajax as he called out with clear concern.
"Hero Griffith! Why are you in such a wretched state? The War God Ares has commanded us to bring you back, so please do not resist any further. Your physical condition does not look good."
As a highly trusted friend of Achilles, he was one of the few individuals who knew that Griffith and Achilles actually shared a remarkably close relationship.
The fact that Achilles hadn't complained at all when Griffith fused the divine armor into his body only verified his thoughts.
He had no desire to become enemies with a friend of his closest companion.
Wait, the armor, where is the armor?
Phoenix suddenly noticed something after speaking.
Although Night's body was covered in a web of flowing blood that looked savage yet carried a strange masculine beauty, his powerful frame no longer held that dazzling, mysterious glow of flowing magma.
That meant Griffith was no longer wearing the divine artifact.
With his sharp eyes and quick mind,
Phoenix quickly realized that the patterns of the wounds across Night's body perfectly matched the shape of the armor he had been wearing before.
"The... the armor of Achilles was violently stripped from your body? Who could be so cruel?"
The bloody sight and his own internal deduction left Phoenix deeply shaken.
He immediately thought of his close friend Achilles, since only he possessed the raw strength and a valid reason to forcibly strip the armor from Griffith.
Yet he refused to believe his companion could be so brutal; if Achilles wanted the armor back, he could have taken it while the man was unconscious, so why wait until now?
Night's subsequent words immediately verified his thoughts.
"Wise Phoenix, close friend of Achilles!
To escape the forced coercion of the War God, I have resolved to turn to Troy. To that end, before our parting, I personally returned the armor and the divine spear to Achilles.
For the sake of his name, stand aside. I have no desire to fight you. The War God wishes to bind my freedom so I can fight for him eternally, meaning anyone who stands in my way is an accomplice trying to enslave me. If you choose to strike here, I will show absolute no mercy and cut you down."
Phoenix was struck with utter shock. "Was... was this forced upon you by Achilles?"
"No, I did it willingly. As a friend of Achilles, I had no desire to fight him, and he felt the exact same way. We engaged in a pure contest of raw strength; if I won, he promised to let me depart in peace."
"You... you actually won? Then why..."
Phoenix then received a brief explanation of the entire sequence of events from Night.
This wasn't a matter that required any deception or concealment, so he shared the details openly without a single shred of exaggeration or embellishment.
Yet simply learning the raw truth left the wise counselor filled with boundless reverence and profound shock, his thoughts racing like a herd of wild horses.
What? If this isn't a lie...!
No, who would actually defend Achilles's name in such a bloody, terrifying, and yet deeply respectable way?
.
.
(End of the Chapter)