Holding the Sun Spear in his grasp, Night continued to gallop forward without any further obstacles.
The pursuers chasing after he subsequently learned the truth one after another, either from Achilles or from Phoenix.
They came to know of the noble sacrifice performed by the hero who tore away his own armor.
Out of sheer respect for this act, many heroes grew completely unwilling to strike such a figure, choosing to abandon the mission entirely.
A small portion also ceased their pursuit out of pure terror toward the frightening power of the Sun Spear described by Phoenix.
It was unclear who was working in the shadows to aid Night, but the information spread as if it had wings, rapidly reaching the ears of those stationed further ahead.
Consequently, as he traveled along the path, many heroes chose to look the other way or actively grant him safe passage the moment they caught sight of him.
As for the few short-sighted heroes who wished to take advantage of him, they all followed in the footsteps of the greedy Lesser Ajax, paying a heavy price for their absolute stupidity.
Antilochus, the son of the wise elder Nestor, foolishly tried to block
Night's path out of blind obedience to the War God's command, and he was promptly cut down.
The hero Tlepolemus, a fugitive who had killed his own maternal uncle and was being hunted by the sons of Heracles, relied on his demigod strength to pursue Night with the same arrogance as Lesser Ajax, and was also incinerated the same way.
With this act, Night could be considered to have solved a massive, lingering problem for his close friend Telephus, the son of Heracles, who resided far away on the Mysian coast.
Following them, a succession of obscure, minor heroes emerged, hoping either to make a name for themselves or catch an easy break, yet every single one of them lost their minds before wealth and status.
They blindly stepped onto the battlefield just to please the War God, only to lose their lives to Night one by one.
As he won one battle after another, turning what was supposed to be a flight of escape into a display of staggering momentum, the information reached the Greek camp and left every remaining hero utterly shocked.
To be able to roam around so freely while heavily injured and burdened with a liability like Briseis, yet still project such an invincible aura, showed just how terrifyingly strong Griffith truly was.
He had grown even more formidable.
When King Agamemnon heard these reports, his heart was filled with boundless pride.
He even let out an excited internal shout, 'As expected of Griffith! Even without Achilles's armor, he remains the most formidable hero in the world!'
As for the heroes who had been killed, he didn't care about them in the slightest.
They were all traitors who had sided with the War God and lacked any real substance anyway, so Griffith had done an excellent job cutting them down!
Traitors and garbage of that caliber deserved to be thoroughly eliminated, as keeping them around only ruined his mood.
Right now, he practically wished Night would kill a few more of those individuals who had been bought out by the War God.
'Brilliant! Serves them right! Kill them all! It's best if every single one of them is wiped out!'
In any case, these people no longer followed his commands, and if Griffith wanted to successfully go undercover, failing to kill a few Greek heroes would make it highly difficult to secure the genuine trust of the Trojan side.
Furthermore, given how every second counted during this escape, utilizing the most direct, brutal method of slaughtering pursuers to keep moving forward was the most efficient route.
These were all necessary sacrifices.
Without Night needing to say a word, King Agamemnon had already perfectly rationalized his decisive actions on the battlefield through his own internal assumptions.
Upon learning that the son of that old geezer Nestor had also been killed, Agamemnon's mood grew even more pleasant.
He had been deeply annoyed by that old man for a long time, given how he constantly used his age to lecture him and present unwanted advice.
Furthermore, the old man showed absolutely no respect to him as the high leader of Greece; his purpose in participating in this war had always been to ensure Greece won, not to ensure Agamemnon won, which made Agamemnon despise the old man who had sided with the War God even more.
It was perfect.
The old man's other siblings had been wiped out by Heracles long ago, and now his only remaining son had been taken out by a close friend of Heracles's lineage, keeping the entire family perfectly uniform.
When Nestor received this news, even though he had no idea that the nominal high king of Greece was secretly gloating in his heart, the sheer shock of the tragic news was enough to cause his mind to go completely black, and he fainted on the spot.
A sudden rush of blood to the heart was the perfect description for it.
Having already lost his father, brothers, and entire family line to become an isolated soul, to experience the agony of losing his only son in his old age, forcing a white-haired elder to bury a black-haired youth, was a shock that could easily be imagined.
Consequently, Nestor, who had served as the ultimate diplomat smoothing over conflicts among the various Greek heroes, was completely knocked out of commission, and it remained uncertain whether he would ever wake up from this swoon.
It was worth mentioning that back when the alliance was gathering heroes, this old man had accompanied them to recruit quite a few figures alongside Odysseus.
When Odysseus was being manipulated, the old man wwas right there on the scene.
Although the various heroes who were reluctant to fight directed the bulk of their hatred toward Odysseus, they didn't particularly care for this elder either, harboring a silent distance in their hearts even if they didn't voice it.
And so, when Nestor collapsed onto the floor of the grand hall after fainting, not a single hero stepped forward to help him up.
Never did anyone anticipate that the two greatest contributors to assembling this star-studded Greek alliance would end up falling one after another, with one dead and the other unconscious.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, on the other side,
Night encountered a brand new defensive line.
This time, heroes of genuine capability and substance had finally arrived to block his path.
As he drew closer and closer to Troy, the pursuing heroes and soldiers behind him had essentially vanished from sight.
Yet for anyone to dare stand before him after he had slaughtered so many heroes meant they naturally possessed significant skill and represented the most troublesome adversaries.
Philoctetes and Idomeneus!
The moment he caught sight of these two heroes standing before him, the stories concerning their legends immediately surfaced in his mind.
The former was a companion from the era of Heracles and the premier marksman of the Greek side.
Furthermore, before the fleet even set sail for the Trojan War, a prophet had already declared him to be the absolute key to ending this conflict.
Many individuals only knew that Odysseus had achieved enduring fame through the Trojan Horse strategy to open the gates and secure final victory for Greece, yet very few paid attention to this man, who was equally one of Greece's greatest contributors.
He was the master marksman who personally shot and killed Paris, the prince of Troy and the very origin of this entire war.
If it were measured strictly by vengeance, the moment Philoctetes successfully shot Paris,
Greece had already secured its ultimate victory.
Moreover, if Night remembered correctly, the bow and arrow in that man's hands were the divine bow and arrows bequeathed by Heracles when he ascended to heaven and became a god after his death.
A divine artifact once used by the mighty Heracles himself!
Even if it was a weapon from before his ascension to godhood, the moment it was associated with a legendary hero like Heracles, it demanded absolute respect and gravity.
Finally, had some truly troublesome enemies arrived?
.
.
.
(End of the Chapter)