His sudden ambush had just been intercepted by Philoctetes.
The sudden betrayal of this hero, who had received a profound reinforcement of divine power from Lord Poseidon and rightfully should have stood on the exact same side as him, filled the high guardian with an even greater fury.
He glared with eyes that looked ready to murder, delivering a chilling question.
However, Philoctetes offered no verbal response.
He simply channeled the remaining divine power of Poseidon into his arrow and slowly drew his bow string, causing a ripple of true ether that was several times more terrifying than the one he displayed when fighting
Night to radiate from the bow shaft.
Perceiving a density of energy that was fully capable of killing him instantly, the guardian's expression warped in horror. "You!"
Swish!
An arrow resembling a massive light cannon blasted forward instantly, roaring through the air like a soaring azure dragon.
The guardian didn't even receive a single moment to react before he was thoroughly vaporized into absolute ash.
'My apologies, but I'm an undercover spy.' that single, terrifying arrow perfectly substituted actions for words, making his stance crystal clear.
The frightening destructive output of that shot also indirectly revealed that whenever Philoctetes had been engaging Night earlier, he had essentially been playing around the entire time, completely refraining from utilizing his true capabilities.
As a veteran master marksman and a legendary companion to the great hero Heracles, wielding the divine bow his foster father used before his ascension while reinforced by Poseidon's divine power, Philoctetes's previous performance hadn't appeared significantly stronger than Idomeneus.
It was glaringly obvious that he had been faking it the entire time.
The high guardian only realized this absolute truth the exact instant he died, leaving him with zero opportunity to report the information to his beloved Sea God.
Of course, within this specific theater where countless gazes were currently gathered, the master marksman's open slaughter of a high guardian of the Sea God proved that he possessed absolutely no intention of hiding his actions.
He harbored no fear toward Poseidon's subsequent retaliation; let alone the fact that the fraction of the soul and power Poseidon invested here had been thoroughly obliterated, even if his true body remained alive, the Sea God's core strength would suffer a significant blow.
Furthermore, his close companion Heracles would certainly shield him from harm, and worst-case scenario, he would simply retire to the temple of the mighty Heracles to live out his golden years.
He was getting along in age anyway.
Having eliminated the guardian, Philoctetes walked over to Griffith, who was already under the personal protection of Goddess Athena and spoke calmly, "My thanks for cutting down Tlepolemus. I must offer you a word of gratitude on behalf of Telephus and the others.
That shameless scoundrel who slaughtered his own maternal uncle has finally received his rightful end."
He paused, lowering his bow.
"I didn't come here today for the purpose of capturing you.
I originally intended to assist your escape the moment you required aid, but it appears I thoroughly underestimated your raw strength.
I am preparing to depart from this battlefield permanently, Griffith."
Philoctetes and Night shared absolutely no inherent conflict or reason to remain enemies.
The sole reason he had agreed to stand alongside Idomeneus to intercept him was entirely for the sake of Heracles's sons, intending to assist Night by turning his weapon against Idomeneus at a critical moment.
Yet he never anticipated that this handsome young man would be this powerful, cutting down Idomeneus in the blink of an eye and nearly launching an assault against him.
Had the War God Ares not descended precisely when he did, he might have been slaughtered by Griffith before he even received a chance to explain himself.
Thinking of a conclusion of that nature was highly embarrassing.
Even though he had successfully eliminated the guardian of the Sea God at the end, Philoctetes felt that he hadn't provided any significant assistance.
Considering he was preparing to leave the war permanently anyway, he likely wouldn't encounter a situation that required the use of weapons ever again.
Back when he was stranded on that isolated island, left entirely helpless and waiting for a miserable death in pure despair, he had already grown thoroughly exhausted by war.
This encounter provided the perfect excuse to exit the stage and seek out his old companion Heracles.
"This bow was gifted to me by Heracles before his ascension to the heavens, and now, I choose to pass it on to you.
Valiant Griffith, I believe that for the sake of your kindness in eliminating Tlepolemus, the mighty Heracles would surely approve of me passing his divine bow into your hands."
Placing the divine bow that was fated to slaughter Prince Paris of Troy directly in front of Night, Philoctetes looked as though his final duty had been perfectly fulfilled, his entire demeanor turning remarkably relaxed and unburdened.
He offered a respectful bow to Goddess Athena and departed in absolute tranquility.
Throughout the entire exchange, his actions were defined by a calm, detached grace, completely devoid of secular desires.
Although his body was entirely immobilized, leaving him completely unable to project a single sound, Night could still see and hear everything occurring in the outside world.
'What?!'
A strange, highly intricate sensation rippled through his mind.
'Good grief, someone is gifting me a divine artifact again?'
'Why did he think the word 'again'?'
Even though every single instance of equipment gifting was perfectly rationalized by the narrative, he hadn't made a single conscious effort to farm these individuals' favor values.
Divine artifacts were exceptionally rare treasures; did every single one of these figures truly feel absolutely zero pain when giving them away so casually?
Their saintly behavior made those heroes who worked themselves to the bone just to afford a decent piece of equipment look completely pitiable, leaving them salivating with pure envy. (Exactly, Diomedes, this refers directly to you!)
Diomedes shed a river of bitter, painful tears!
This time around, not only did he fail to obtain a single divine artifact, but even the monumental glory of crushing the War God had completely vanished from his reach.
It appeared the trial card for the Goddess's blessing had been permanently canceled?
"Sleep now. Leave everything else to me. Once you awaken, everything will be completely resolved, and you will no longer face a single shred of danger," Goddess Athena murmured softly, using her divine power to continuously repair Night's fractured body.
Thoroughly drained by the immense output of energy, the man sank into a deep, heavy slumber.
Presently, within Athena's divine senses, an army was rapidly marching toward their position from the direction of Troy.
This was the exact reason she could provide him with an absolute guarantee of safety.
Now that the War God had been thoroughly beaten, she could easily deploy her divine power without a single constraint to guide Night away, entirely unbothered by the mortal soldiers.
Although this intervention would technically interfere with his heroic trial, given that all hardships were supposed to form the raw matrix of a hero's path, where the gods acted strictly as guides rather than direct participants, it was glaringly obvious that this specific hero was completely unique.
More than one god had already cast aside all dignity just to claim a piece of him.
"Isn't that the truth, Poseidon, Ares?
The two of you look remarkably pathetic right now; you thoroughly lost face this time, didn't you? Hahahahaha!"
Far away within the heavenly realm of Olympus, the gods had gathered together, and Hermes was currently letting out a series of boisterous, cheerful laughs.
The sheer cheerfulness of his laughter left one wondering whether his words were born from pure amusement or absolute mockery.
Yet regardless of the hidden intent behind his phrasing, the expressions of Poseidon and Ares had turned completely iron-black and remarkably unsightly.
What an absolute joke.
Even now, Poseidon and Ares remained entirely unable to process how two high gods could possibly lose to Athena and Griffith.
Even if neither side had deployed their true physical bodies, it was still a two-versus-one dynamic of raw power.
How could two gods reinforcing their dependents lose to a single god? How could they lose?
What possible reason was there for a failure of this caliber?
.
.
.
(End of the Chapter)