— — — — — —
Thirty minutes later, Verethragna finally awakened. He stood up clutching his chest, pale with lingering fear, then suddenly threw his head back and laughed toward Ryo.
"As expected of my destined rival! The very first move I made, and I walked straight into such a terrifying trap!"
"My Raptor authority should let me dodge any attack… but even that was already part of your calculation, wasn't it?"
"Hah! You truly are the best opponent!"
Ryo raised a brow. So this was the power of Athena's Victory Authority? But… he hadn't actually seen it activate.
Liliana, watching from the side, couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the god. This explanation was way too forced. He'd clearly killed himself, yet was pretending it was Ryo's cunning trap. Was this really the same Verethragna who was supposed to be a world-shaking calamity?
Erica also silently roasted him in her heart. Really? Blaming Ryo after literally speed-running himself to death? She had risked her life before and only ever managed to injure a single avatar of this god. Meanwhile, Verethragna risked his life just to barely catch up to Ryo's speed for an instant—then imploded.
The gap was absurd. Were Campiones always this outrageous?
Ryo looked at Verethragna, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "How about this," he suggested lightly, "I'll just tap you once, nice and gentle, and we can call it done?"
It wasn't mockery. He was genuinely worried the god would try another reckless authority and blow himself up again.
"Opportunity!"
Verethragna's eyes lit up. He lunged forward without hesitation.
A god of war was no gentleman, and this one least of all. He lived for tricks and ambushes; that was the essence of a god who embodied victory. And against Ryo, his greatest threat, he pulled out his most vicious authority immediately.
The Warrior authority.
The power to seal away another god's divinity, to drag them forcibly from their throne.
And his target was clear: the Authority that terrified him most. Ryo's "Victory."
"I've seen your essence!" Verethragna roared, chanting words of power.
"In my name I declare: O goddess of victory, Athena, tremble before me! I am he who smashes all obstacles! I am the one who holds victory in my grasp! I shall announce. I will seal everything."
His golden sword of wisdom blazed, pointed straight at Ryo's blessing. A cruel smile stretched across his youthful face as he swung the blade, aiming to sever Ryo's victory itself.
The world wavered.
Reality rippled and overlapped with a dreamlike realm.
In that dreamscape, Verethragna ran forward, golden sword ready, certain triumph was at hand.
Then he saw it. And froze.
"What… is this?"
The figure before him was not Ryo.
It was a colossal giant, so vast its head touched the heavens and its feet pressed into the earth. Its outline was hazy, its form feminine, embodying both gentleness and immensity, as if the world itself had taken shape as a woman.
The giant lowered its head, noticing him. Stars swirled around its hand, condensing into a radiant golden spear.
The Spear of Victory. A sacred weapon that guaranteed triumph with every throw.
Verethragna glanced down at his own golden sword, barely two meters long. Then he looked back up at the galactic spear pointed at his chest.
"…"
A bitter smile twisted his face."So this is the real god of war? Pfft—ha ha ha ha!"
The spear flew.
As it pierced him, Verethragna whispered, "What kind of war god am I, really?"
The dream shattered.
Back in reality, Erica blinked.
From her perspective, the god had only raised his golden sword, taken two steps… then froze, grinning like he'd just pulled off some brilliant scheme.
A breeze swept through. His body dissolved into golden sand and scattered into the wind.
Ryo blinked, then turned to Athena. His look clearly said: 'Does this count?'
He hadn't even lifted a finger. No one could say for sure what had just happened, but Verethragna had still died because of him. Did this qualify as slaying a god?
Athena only raised a finger to her lips.
That was all it took. Ryo understood instantly.
The mother of all Campiones—Pandora—had arrived.
...
The Netherworld
The boundary of Life, Immortality, and death... overlapping reality like a shadow.
Here, Pandora, keeper of the Circle of Usurpation, sensed the tremors of myth once again.
The death of a Heretic God by human hands. The birth of a new Campione.
"Another one?" she murmured, tilting her head toward the false sky above.
She looked like a child herself, small and delicate, with Violet hair tied into twin tails, dressed in a simple white dress. Yet her face radiated a strange, dangerous beauty no true child should possess.
Pandora. The All-Giving Woman, mother of Campiones, the witch who gifts new life to godslayers, transforming them into Kings.
Sensing the location, she willed herself into a stone forest—the mirrored reflection of Sardinia in the real world.
Distance meant nothing here. In the Netherworld, one could reach any place in a single thought.
She did not look toward the living world, only allowed her circle of usurpation to link with the newborn Campione. For now, she had more pressing business.
"Well met, Verethragna, god of Persia's war."
Before her stood the god himself, bound in illusory chains, garments torn, his face blank.
His numb silence did not bother her. She only smiled. "It seems my child left you with some unpleasant memories."
Few gods accepted defeat with grace. Most cursed the new king before the Circle Of Usurpation completed its work.
"If you have no objection," she said sweetly, "shall we begin the ritual to make you my child's first sacrifice?"
Her hand lifted, preparing the Black Christmas ritual.
At last, Verethragna stirred. Through the threads of myth connecting him to this place, he regained a sliver of awareness. His eyes fixed on Pandora in confusion.
"Mother of Fools… why are you here?"
"???" Pandora blinked innocently. "To bless my newborn child, of course. That is my duty."
She smiled brighter. "And besides, your authority is something he'll absolutely need to survive."
"To survive?"
Verethragna paused, then suddenly burst into wild laughter. "Hahahaha! My power—necessary for him? Haha, what a joke!"
"Take it, witch! Take it all! Consider it a gift, for making me laugh one last time!"
Pandora gave him a peculiar look but nodded gently. "Then… please, do not resist."
The Circle of Usurpation pulsed. His divinity was stripped away, ready to be poured into the new child.
But then—
"Hm?" Pandora frowned. "It won't go in? Impossible. Why can't the power enter him?"
Bewildered, she glanced through the Netherworld toward reality.
And froze.
A sharp gaze shot back at her from the living world, twin beams of light that pierced the Netherworld itself.
A man's voice rang out, calm and confident.
"Found you."
"???" Pandora blinked.
And then the Netherworld shuddered. A colossal tide of mental force ripped through the veil, splitting her world apart.
The Netherworld itself began to collapse, dragged violently toward reality.
.
.
.