— — — — — —
The phantom earth of the Netherworld was collapsing, dragged downward as it bled into reality.
Under that crushing psychic force, Pandora was pinned flat against the ground, unable to move even a finger.
"I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die!"
Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the receding sky of the underworld, helpless.
"Just raw mental pressure alone—ripping through the barrier between reality and dream, slicing off a chunk of the Netherworld and forcing it down to earth?"
"What kind of monster is this?!"
Actual tears slipped free. In all her countless millennia of life as a true goddess, Pandora had never encountered anything like this—something so blatantly broken it felt like cheating.
"Dammit! Who's the real god here, me or him?"
The severed fragment of the Netherworld let out a low, mournful groan as it plummeted, about to fully merge with the living world.
"That's it. I'm doomed."
Pandora's face twisted with despair.
"If this part of Netherworld fuses with reality, I'll be dragged down too. Forced into becoming a Heretic God, driven mad by the backlash of myth. This is the end…"
No one understood Campiones better than she did.
It didn't matter if she was their foster mother. Even if she showed up as their real mother, once she descended as a Heretic God, those lunatics would cut her down without hesitation.
And some of them—like Marquis Voban and the King of Swords—deserved special mention for how enthusiastic they'd be about it.
Watching from the safety of the Netherworld, she'd always thought their reckless bloodlust was a little admirable.
But if she were the Heretic God they faced? Then that same quality was absolute hell.
Distance creates beauty, after all.
Sure, they'd realize eventually that killing her meant losing the chance to gain any new Authorities. But that would only occur to them after she was already dead.
And none of them knew the truth: Pandora could never be allowed to descend as a Heretic God.
"If I turn into one of them, who's going to use the Circle of Usurpation?!"
The thought made her want to scream.
The Netherworld fragment shuddered under the terrible pressure, groaning in its final death throes.
"It's over…" Pandora's eyes glazed with hopelessness.
And then—a dragon's roar split the air.
At the boundary between worlds, a silver-white twin-headed dragon burst out, ripping apart the convergence of Netherworld and reality.
"A dragon?" Pandora gasped, stunned. "Is some earth goddess here to save me?"
Her despair flipped instantly to wild joy.
But the very next second, that joy curdled into shock.
The twin-headed dragon crossed the boundary, opened both its massive jaws—bottomless, like dark abysses—and devoured the entire severed Netherworld fragment in a single bite.
Then it let out a satisfied burp.
That was none other than Ryo's third Familiar—the one he obtained from the Strike the Blood world—Tritos, the Serpentine Dragon of Mercury… known as the Dimension Eater, a being capable of warping reality and devouring void and space.
"..."
Tritos' eyes narrowed lazily. It cast one last glance toward the broken Netherworld, then turned away, slipping smoothly back into reality.
When the echoes faded, a battered figure appeared in the shattered underworld—white robes torn, body scored with wounds.
It was the Fire-Thief, Prometheus.
He glanced down at his muscular, Greek-style limbs, then up at the dragon that had just swallowed a chunk of space like it was breakfast. With a long, helpless sigh, he muttered, "…Why me?"
---
Sardinia
Ryo stood before a mound of sand—the remains of Verethragna's body. From within, he drew out a stone tablet.
The Prometheus' Grimoire. A Grimoire that has the power of Theft, granting it the ability to steal the divine right or Authorities of any God, or their powers.
Originally, Verethragna had prepared this as a backup plan: if his Sword failed, he would use the tablet to wrest away Ryo's Authority of Victory. Now, though, it was just a relic with no purpose.
Ryo still couldn't quite believe it. The god of war had gone so far as to seal Athena's Authority, only to be killed by the natural backlash of her power.
"That's gotta be the dumbest, most pathetic way any Heretic God has ever died," Ryo thought, face twisted into something between disbelief and amusement.
"How did it go?"
Athena's voice drifted in beside him, soft and measured. He hadn't even noticed her move closer.
"It's done," Ryo said with a smile.
Erica and Liliana assumed he was talking about gaining a new Authority from slaying the god.
But Athena's question had been different. She wanted to know: 'Had Pandora been caught?'
And his answer made her let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
For Athena, capturing Pandora had always been the hardest part of their plan.
That woman was slippery—a Mother Earth Goddess like herself, yet hidden in the Netherworld in a way even the gods couldn't trace. That was problem one.
Problem two was her functionality.
To explain: gods lingered in the Netherworld in a half-asleep state, woven into the myths humans had crafted. They would never awaken under normal conditions.
If they descended to earth, myth's backlash would strike, warping them into Heretic Gods who lived only to rebel against destiny.
But the Netherworld was different.
It was a world ruled by spirit. There, gods could dwell peacefully without being twisted into Heretic Gods.
Which was precisely why Pandora, executor of the Campione ritual, had to remain in the Netherworld.
Yet at the same time, she needed to be kept under Ryo and Athena's control.
A maddening paradox.
Finding Pandora was already a nearly impossible task. Restraining her without harm, while ensuring her role in the ritual, should have required centuries of plotting.
But Ryo had proposed his own answer.
Slice off a fragment of the Netherworld itself, lock it away in a pocket dimension he controlled, and seal Pandora inside.
Once that was done, tweaking the Campione ritual would be child's play.
Athena shook her head, exasperated. "Who would've thought such a reckless plan would actually work?"
To cut away part of the Netherworld with raw psychic force, then build an artificial space to hold it—and Pandora along with it—was sheer madness.
And yet, Ryo had pulled it off.
Off to the side, Erica's expression turned strange as she watched them.
That tone of voice… was Athena actually pouting?
No, this has to be pouting. Definitely pouting.
But who was this girl, really? Liliana never mentioned her, treating the subject like taboo.
And her name—Athena? That was suspicious as hell.
Erica's eyes narrowed. A bold, outrageous theory flickered in her mind.
Could it be… that Athena?
But no. That would overturn her entire worldview. The virgin goddess of myth, together with a Campione? Too absurd.
Meanwhile, the girl in question stood atop Verethragna's remains, mocking him openly.
"So this was the great Persian war god? To think you let victory cloud your judgment. Pathetic."
Challenging Little Garden Athena's Authority head-on with nothing but his Warrior power… his stubbornness was so laughable she almost cracked a tooth from grinning.
Still, in a way, she pitied him. A god who wielded victory itself, trying to chase a higher victory—it was inevitable he'd seek such a trial.
And a crushing defeat was the only natural outcome. Though managing to kill himself in the process—that kind of pathetic loss was rare even for Heretic Gods.
Liliana approached Ryo, bowing slightly. "Verethragna has been defeated. My king, shall we now move against Melqart, the God King of the Mediterranean?"
"Melqart?" Erica's head snapped up. "Wait—there's another god on this island?"
"I never mentioned it?" Ryo tilted his head, genuinely surprised.
"No, you didn't, you bastard!" Erica nearly blurted, but the calm weight of his gaze hit her and she froze.
"…Forgive me, my mistake. Please don't hold it against me."
His eyes softened, and she pressed further, careful and deferential. "Then… My Lord, do you intend to challenge Melqart immediately?"
Ryo shook his head. "No. I'll rest for the night first."
"Then please allow me to prepare lodging for you," Erica said smoothly, bowing with knightly grace and smiling with practiced elegance.
"Fine. I'll leave it to you."
"An honor," she replied, lips curving upward as she flicked a triumphant glance at Liliana.
Liliana's eyes went wide with outrage.
'This fox! What's her problem?!'
At noon she'd been in ragged clothes right in front of Ryo. And now she dared to snatch away the privilege of attending to him?
'Shameless!'
"Power belongs to the strong, and the favor of a king belongs to a lady who knows how to take it," Erica thought smugly, casting Liliana a teasing look before turning back to Ryo.
"Then, if you and Lady Athena would follow me…"
.
.
.