The thirteen gods stared at their wounds. Golden ichor dripped onto the blessed stone of the arena floor, each drop hissing and steaming where it landed.
They'd charged together, thinking they will end it easily. And now, a single human had made them all bleed in one move. Their true forms were actually hurt.
The impossible had happened.
In the human section, someone screamed: "HE HIT THEM! ALL OF THEM!"
The sound broke the shock. Suddenly everyone was shouting, crying, cheering. People who'd been sitting in numb acceptance of death were now on their feet, hope blazing in their eyes like a wildfire.
"THEY'RE BLEEDING!"
"GODS ARE BLEEDING!"
"HE MADE THEM BLEED!"
An old woman collapsed in her seat, sobbing. "We might live. we might actually live."
A father held his daughter close, tears streaming down his face. "You see that, sweetheart? That man is fighting for you. For all of us."
But not everyone was celebrating. Many still looked terrified, hands gripping armrests until knuckles went white. "It's just first blood," someone said nervously. "He hurt them, but they're GODS. They'll recover. They'll—"
"SHUT UP!" someone else shouted. "Let us have this! Let us have hope for one damn second!"
In the divine sections, the atmosphere was completely different. Shock. Disbelief. And underneath it, the first stirrings of real fear.
A minor Greek deity leaned toward another. "Did you see how fast he moved? I couldn't even track it."
"Thirteen gods. He hit all thirteen. In a single movement."
"That shouldn't be possible. Even for demigods, that shouldn't be possible."
"He's not a demigod," an older god interrupted, his face grim. "Look at his eyes. That's something else. Something we haven't seen ever."
The Norse section was in chaos. Gods shouting at each other, arguing about what they'd just witnessed.
"Thor's bleeding!" Tyr was shocked.
"Just a scratch. He's taken worse from Jotuns." Vidar said nervously.
"From what? When has Thor EVER bled in the first exchange? When has ANY god bled that easily?"
In Zeus's private box, the King of Olympus sat very still. His hands gripped the armrests of his throne, and those close enough could see his knuckles were white.
His face showed nothing, but his eyes were fixed on Edward with an expression that was hard to read. He muttered softly. "I has too confident. I don't hink those 13 will be enough."
Hera was clapping with a smile from the box. Brunhilde looked at her weirdly. " So you truly have left that old lecher? And married the guy who will kill him? Can't say I don't support it. He is an interesting man."
Hera chuckled lightly. "That's a crude way to put it, little Valkyrie. I love him and he loves me. He has given me what I always wanted. A real family." She stared down at the arena fondly.
Brunhilde smirked. " I am happy for you my lady, but you should be careful. Zeus is a petty bastard. He will definitely try something."
Hera's face showed nothing but cool detachment, but those who knew her could see the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way her hands were clasped too tightly.
On the arena floor, Thor was the first to recover. The Thunder God's face was twisted with humiliation and rage. golden ichor ran from the gash on his shoulder, staining his red beard.
"THAT WAS LUCK!" Thor roared, his voice shaking the arena. Lightning exploded from Mjolnir in a blinding column that reached the clouds. "NOTHING BUT LUCK! A CHEAP TRICK!"
"Luck?" Edward's voice was cold, completely empty of emotion. He stood in the center of their broken circle, the Blades of Chaos still burning in his hands.
"No. That was restraint."
The word hit like a physical blow. Restraint. He was saying he'd held back. The implication made several gods' faces flush with anger.
"RESTRAINT?!" Ares's voice cracked with fury. The God of War's face was split from Edward's earlier strike, golden blood still pouring down his jaw. "YOU DARE!"
Edward moved.
Not toward any single god, but forward directly at the clustered Greek pantheon. Divine instinct had made them group together: Poseidon, Heracles, Ares, and Apollo, four of Olympus's finest.
Ares charged to meet him, sword raised and howling with the voices of everyone it had ever killed. Thousands of screams pouring from the blade. "I'LL TEAR YOU APART!"
Edward's blade came across in a horizontal slash. The strike was so fast Ares barely registered it. Then pain exploded across his face as the weapon carved through his cheek, splitting it open to the bone.
Teeth were visible through the wound. Ares stumbled back, golden ichor spraying in an arc.
"MY FACE!" Ares's scream was more shock than pain. "YOU CUT MY FACE! I'll kill you! "
Heracles came from the left, his stone sword, the weapon that had pulverized the Nemean Lion, swinging with enough force to turn mountains to dust. The air itself screamed as the weapon descended.
Edward ducked under it. The sword passed so close that displaced air , and the sonic boom of its passage made several humans in the audience clutch their ears in pain.
As he rose calmly , the chains of the Blades of Chaos whipped out like living serpents, wrapping around Heracles's wrist.
Edward yanked, using the demigod's own momentum against him.
Heracles's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. His feet left the ground, his enormous frame suddenly felt weightless, flying forward with no control.
Edward's boot caught him in the chest. The impact sounded like a bomb detonating. Heracles's ribs cracked. Divine bones that could withstand Titan blows, actually cracking. He crashed into Poseidon, and both gods went down in a tangle of limbs and indignation.
"GET OFF ME, YOU OAF!" Poseidon shoved at Heracles, his perfect composure shattered.
Apollo fired. Three arrows of condensed sunlight, each moving faster than sound, each hot enough to melt steel. The arrows left trails of fire in the air, reality itself scorching from their passage.
Edward twisted his body to dodge . The first arrow passed inches from his face, close enough that he felt his skin blister from the heat. He brought his blade up, catching the second arrow on the Chaos-forged metal. The divine fire splashed against it harmlessly, absorbed by a weapon that had been bathed in far worse.
The third arrow hit his shoulder.
The arrow bored through leather armor like it was paper, pierced flesh, and buried itself two inches into muscle. Divine fire spread from the wound, burning from the inside. Edward grunted, his jaw clenching. But he ignored it as it didn't actually hurt.
But to others witnessing it, it felt like like a real hit.
The human section gasped. "He's hit! He's bleeding!"
"That's just a flesh wound. Don't stop Kratos! Show these gods our will!"
"It's just one hit. He's fine. He has to be fine—"
Edward looked amused as he reached up and grabbed the arrow shaft. The divine fire burning his palm, skin blistering and recovering due to his powers.
With a sharp yank, he tore the arrow out. Flesh came with it, blood spraying.
He looked at the arrow for a moment. His blood, mixed with the golden ichor already coating the shaft. Then he looked at Apollo.
He smiled.
It wasn't pleasant. It was the smile of a predator who'd just confirmed his prey could bleed.
"My turn."
He threw the arrow back with his bare hand.
Apollo's eyes widened. He tried to dodge, divine reflexes making him blur with speed as he tried to control it. The arrow was his own, it carried his authority, his divine power. But the force was too much.
The arrow curved in mid-flight, defying physics, and buried itself in Apollo's thigh rather than his heart.
The Sun God's scream shattered the arena's atmosphere. A genuine scream of shock and pain. Gods Weren't supposed to feel pain like this.
Apollo fell to one knee, hands going to the arrow, golden blood flowing around the shaft. His face, always composed, always perfect—twisted with confusion and fear. "It hurts. Why does it hurt so much? I'm a god. This shouldn't hurt so much!"
Poseidon felt something and looked worried. "He power is like poison to us. It corrodes divinity."
From behind, Thor's hammer came like divine judgment. The air pressure changed, ozone smell overwhelming, every hair on Edward's body standing on end as Mjolnir approached. The hammer that never missed. The hammer that had shattered mountains and crushed giants.
Edward didn't dodge.
He caught it.
His hand closed around the shaft just behind the hammer's head. The impact drove him six inches into the stone floor, cracks radiating outward like a spiderweb. The force traveled up his arm—bones creaking, muscles screaming, skin tearing. His entire body trembled with the effort of stopping the hammer's flight.
But he held it.
The arena fell absolutely silent.
In the Norse section, a Sif whispered, "That's... that's impossible."
"Only those worthy can lift Mjolnir," another god said, his voice hollow. "Only those deemed strong enough by it can lift it."
"He's not lifting it," someone interrupted. "He's stopping it. That's different. That's—"
"That's worse," an older god finished. "That means raw strength is overcoming divine law."
Thor's jaw had dropped. His eyes stared in absolute disbelief. "That's... you can't... only those worthy are..."
Edward's other blade lashed out. The chain extended across the distance, wrapping around Thor's thick neck like a garrote. Then he pulled while simultaneously throwing Mjolnir back.
Bang!
The hammer hit Thor in his own face with devastating force. The sound was like a building collapsing. Thor's nose shattered, spraying golden ichor across his red beard. His left eye burst from the impact, divine ichor running down his cheek. The orbital bone caved in with an audible crunch.
Thor flew backward, crashing through a pillar of divine stone. The pillar, which had stood for millennia, exploded into fragments. Thor's body disappeared into the rubble.
The Norse section erupted. "THOR!"
"Someone help him!"
"He's the strongest! How did he get knocked away!"
"We need to stop this! We need to help them!"
But they were afraid too. What if he did the same to them, who are even weaker than Thor?
Edward released the chain, letting it retract. He looked at his hand—the one that had caught Mjolnir. The skin was blackened and cracked, blood seeping from where the impact had burst capillaries. His fingers trembled from the damage.
"Worthiness has nothing to do with strength," Edward said quietly. But in the silence, everyone heard.
In the human section, someone started crying. Then another. Not from fear, from overwhelming emotion. Hope and disbelief and desperate prayer all mixed together.
"He's doing it," a man whispered. "Kratos is actually doing it."
"Don't say that," his wife hissed. "Don't jinx it. Just pray. Just keep praying."
A young boy tugged his mother's sleeve. "Mama, will that man save us?"
The mother looked at the arena, at Edward standing alone against divine might, and she couldn't answer. Just held her son closer and hoped for the best.
Edward was feeling the warmth in his body. The collective hopes of humanity floating towards him, empowering him. He looked at the audience who cheered for him.
A small smile appeared on his face. "This is why I walk this path. So they never lose that light in their eyes."
Shiva attacked from three sides simultaneously. Four arms creating a web of strikes with perfect coordination. Trishula, sword, staff, and one hand wreathed in cosmic fire that could unmake anything.
Each attack came from a different angle, each one perfectly timed to intersect with the others, leaving no opening to escape.
Edward met them all.
His right blade parrying the trident, sparks flying as fire met steel. His Left blade's chain whipping out to deflect the sword, wrapping around it and redirecting it.
He ducked under the staff, feeling it pass so close it almost scratched his skin. He caught the cosmic fire hand with his own palm.
For a moment they were locked together, face to face. Edward's partially divine nature fought against Shiva's cosmic authority.
The Destroyer's power tried to unmake Edward's flesh, to reduce him to component atoms. Edward's God-Slayer authority fought back, resisting the divine influence.
Their eyes met. Shiva's third eye began to open, the eye that could end universes with a glance. He grinned savagely. "Let's see how you survive this!"
Edward headbutted him without replying.
The impact was brutal. Shiva's blue skin split across his forehead, golden ichor flowing into his eyes. His third eye snapped shut reflexively, the divine technique interrupted.
Edward's follow-up kick broke two of Shiva's ribs with audible cracks. The Destroyer staggered back, cosmic fire flickering like a candle in wind.
For the first time since his manifestation, Shiva looked uncertain.
In the Hindu section, the reaction was immediate and shocked.
"Lord Shiva is injured!"
"That's impossible! He's the Destroyer! He can't be beaten!"
"Did you see? Did you see how he stopped the Tandava? No one stops the cosmic dance!"
A elderly deity stood, his voice shaking. "We need to intervene. This isn't right. This goes against—"
"Against what?" another god interrupted bitterly. "Against the natural order? We set the rules. We demanded this battle. Now we watch."
From the right flank, Set charged with his was-scepter raised, chaos energy crackling along its length.
From the left, Perun struck with his lightning-axe blazing. He tought he had him.
Behind Edward, Chernobog spreading darkness that seemed to devour light itself, his very presence making the nearby air cold enough to see frost.
Three gods, three different pantheons, attacking in coordination. All to face a so called mortal human. If only they knew what he truly was.
Edward spun between them. The Blades of Chaos whirled in figure-eight patterns, each movement precise. He wasn't wasting energy showboating. Every strike had purpose, every move was perfect.
Set's scepter met his right blade. Chaos energy crackled against Olympian fire, neither giving way. Set's animal face twisted with effort as he pushed harder, trying to overwhelm Edward with raw power.
Edward pushed back. Not just with physical strength, but with the God-Slayer authority embedded in his weapons. The chaos energy began to dim, suppressed by power specifically designed to counter divine might.
Set's eyes widened. "What are you! How can you move like that!"
Edward reversed direction suddenly. His left blade's chain whipped out, wrapping around Perun's incoming axe. He yanked, pulling the massive Slavic god off-balance directly into Set's path.
Both gods collided with a thunderous impact. Perun's shoulder slammed into Set's animal head, dazing the Egyptian god. They stumbled, tangled together, divine coordination broken by simple physics.
Edward was already moving past them. Chernobog loomed behind, his shadow-form expanding to engulf Edward whole. The primordial darkness that existed before creation reached out with tendrils of pure void.
Edward slashed through it.
The Blades of Chaos, forged in the depths of Tartarus and quenched in the blood of Titans, cut through the conceptual darkness like it was cloth.
Chernobog screamed in anger and pain. It was an unholy sound that made every mortal in the arena cover their ears, some crying out in pain.
The scream wasn't just sound. It was existential horror made audible. The sound of something that shouldn't be able to feel pain, feeling it anyway.
Chernobog's shadow-form recoiled, pulling back, his burning eyes flickering with something that looked like fear. "You can hurt concepts," the Dark God whispered, his voice carrying despite its quietness. "How is that possible?"
Edward's boot caught what passed for Chernobog's face. The impact dispersed the shadow-form, making it explode outward in wisps of darkness.
Chernobog reformed twenty feet away, but his eyes were no longer confident. For the first time since his manifestation at the dawn of darkness, Chernobog looked uncertain.
The Slavic section was in chaos.
"Did he just kick Chernobog?"
"You can't kick darkness! You can't hurt shadow!"
"He just did! Did you not see—"
"This is wrong! This violates the fundamental nature of—"
"The fundamental nature of WHAT?" an older goddess interrupted, her voice sharp. "Divine superiority? The idea that we're untouchable? Look at the arena! Look at what's happening! Maybe our 'fundamental nature' was built on a lie!"
Nezha came from above, his fire wheels blazing, creating a trail of flame through the air. His multiple divine weapons spun around him—spear, rings, sash—all attacking simultaneously from different vectors.
The Third Lotus Prince moved with incredible speed, his young face set with determination.
"Die!"
His spear thrust toward Edward's heart. His rings came at the head from two angles. His sash wrapped toward the legs. Four simultaneous attacks, each one perfectly coordinated.
Edward met the spear with his right blade. The impact sent shockwaves across the arena, cracking stone for fifty feet around them. His left chain wrapped around one ring, using it as a fulcrum to deflect the other. The sash wrapped around his forearm—Nezha pulled, trying to drag Edward off-balance.
Edward let himself be pulled. Used the momentum to close distance rather than resist. His fist met Nezha's nose with a sickening crunch.
The young god's nose shattered, golden ichor spraying across both their faces. Nezha's concentration broke, his grip on his weapons faltering. Edward's blade came across in a vicious slash, carving deep into Nezha's shoulder, cutting down to bone.
Nezha screamed and retreated, his divine weapons clattering as he struggled to maintain control. Ichor poured from the shoulder wound, more than should be possible.
Edward shook his head. "Go play with other kids, boy. I won't hold back."
In the Chinese section, the reaction was immediate.
"Nezha! The Third Prince is—"
"He's just a boy! He shouldn't be in this fight!"
"A boy?" another god snapped. "He's thousands of years old! He defeated Dragon Kings!"
"And now he's bleeding like he's mortal! Look at him!"
Anu descended from above, his body blazing with stellar light. The Sumerian sky god's presence was overwhelming—ancient beyond ancient, carrying the weight of laws written before most pantheons existed. His staff crackled with power of the sky itself.
"KNOW YOUR PLACE, MORTAL!"
Divine law crashed down like a physical weight. The compulsion to kneel, to submit, to acknowledge the superiority of gods over mortals. Reality itself seemed to bend, trying to force Edward to the ground. The stone beneath his feet cracked from the pressure. The air grew thick, hard to breathe.
The human section felt it too. Many were forced to their knees despite the distance, the divine authority too overwhelming to resist.
"I can't... can't breathe!"
"The pressure, it's too much!"
"Even watching it hurts"
"Please be safe, Kratos!"
But Edward remained standing.
His knees trembled. Sweat poured down his face. Every muscle in his body strained against the cosmic weight pressing down on him. But he did not kneel.
"Looks like I have to get serious," Edward said. His voice was strained but absolute.
"Activate skill: Ghost of Vengeance."
His Ghost of Vengeance authority activated as the sky above started to turn red. Humans looked in awe at the display of strength."
The divine compulsion shattered like glass. The pressure vanished instantly. Edward straightened, and the ease with which he did it made Anu's eyes widen.
"He's... like him!"
Edward jumped. His partially divine nature combined with pure physical power launched him impossibly high, crossing the distance to Anu in a single bound. His blade met Anu's staff mid-air.
CRACK!
The clash lit up the arena like a second sun. Stellar light against Olympian fire. Ancient authority against god-killing will. Divine law against the fundamental rejection of divine superiority.
For three heartbeats, they were locked together in mid-air. Two beings channeling power that could reshape reality, neither giving an inch.
Then Edward's blade cut through it.
The ancient staff, older than most civilizations, harder than any earthly metal, split in two. The halves fell away, power dissipating.
Edward's follow-up strike opened Anu from shoulder to chest. Not a shallow cut but a deep gash that carved through divine flesh, through the stellar light that made up his body. The wound was so deep people could see through it, see the other side of Anu's body through the gap.
Cosmic light leaked from the wound like blood. Anu's eyes widened in shock and pain. He fell from the sky, crashing into the arena floor with an impact that cracked stone in a thirty-meter radius.
The Sumerian section went absolutely silent. No one spoke. No one even breathed.
Anu, the eldest, the lawgiver, the king of their pantheon—was on the ground, wounded, possibly dying.
The human crowd erupted.
"Kratos did it! He actually did it!"
"Kill those gods ! We all have faith in you !"
"Kratos!" "Kratos!" "Kratos!" the cheers rang loudly.
Adam looked at the scene with a gentle smile. "He might actually pull it off."
Beowulf grinned widely. "This guy, I like him! "
Okita had stars in his eyes. "He's so cool!"
Buddha who munched on popcorn looked amused. "He's an interesting fellow. And he's still holding back. Looks like I don't need to step in."
The gods began to regroup, circling Edward warily. All of them were injured now. All of them were bleeding. Some worse than others.
Apollo clutched his thigh where his own arrow still protruded, his perfect face twisted with pain and disbelief. Shiva held his broken ribs, cosmic fire barely flickering around his four arms.
Heracles flexed his hands, both wrists carved deep where Edward's chains had bitten. Ares's face was split open, bone visible through the gash.
Thor emerged from the rubble, his face a mess of blood and ruined flesh, one eye completely gone. Loki's current form which he'd shifted three times already, had deep cuts across the torso.
Anu lay on the ground, trying to stand despite the massive wound. Set's animal hide was torn at the throat. Perun's massive chest leaked golden ichor from a slash Edward had landed during the exchange.
Nezha held his ruined shoulder, his young face pale. Balor's injured hands trembled near his eye-plate. Chernobog's shadow flickered uncertainly.
And Poseidon, the only one who hadn't directly engaged yet, stared at Edward with his cold eyes, his arrogance finally cracking into something that looked like concern.
They'd been fighting for maybe three minutes.
And they were losing badly.
In the human section, the noise was deafening. People screaming, crying, praying, cheering. All at once. A cacophony of desperate hope.
"HE'S WINNING!"
"DID YOU SEE THAT? HE'S ACTUALLY WINNING!"
"Don't say that! Don't jinx it!"
"KEEP FIGHTING KRATOS! PLEASE KEEP FIGHTING!"
An old man collapsed in his seat, his hand over his heart, tears streaming down his face. "I never thought I'd see the day. Gods bleeding. Actually bleeding."
A mother held her children, all of them crying. "You see? You see what one person can do? Remember this. No matter what happens, remember that humanity didn't go quietly."
In the divine sections, the mood was completely different. Shock had turned to anger. Anger was turning to fear.
"This is impossible!"
"Thirteen gods! THIRTEEN! And one mortal is hurting them!"
"He's not mortal! He can't be! No mortal could—"
"Then what is he?!"
"I don't know! But whatever he is, he's killing us!"
In the Valkyrie box, Brunhilde's sisters sat in stunned silence. Göll was crying, her hands over her mouth. The legendary warriors Brunhilde had gathered—Lü Bu, Sasaki Kojiro, Leonidas, all of them—stared at the arena with expressions ranging from awe to disbelief.
"He's doing it alone," Lü Bu whispered. "What we would have needed Völundr to even attempt... he's doing it alone."
Leonidas, the Spartan king, leaned forward. "That fighting style. Those movements. That's Spartan training but refined beyond anything I've ever seen. How many battles has he fought? How many centuries of war?"
Siegfried just shook his head, remembering Edward casually breaking his chains in Tartarus. "You asked if he'd be alright," he spoke to Brunhilde. "You should have asked if the gods would be alright."
Brunhilde smiled. That twisted, vindictive smile. "Oh, I knew the answer to that. He's gonna fuck them up!"
On the arena floor, Edward stood among the circling gods. His breathing was heavy. Sweat mixed with blood—both red and gold—covering his body. The wound in his shoulder has healed. His hand that had caught Mjolnir was fixed. But underneath it all, he was unharmed.
But his eyes were clear. Focused. And utterly without mercy.
The gods looked at each other. Some silent communication passing between them. They'd tried fighting in small groups. Tried coordinating by pantheon. It hadn't worked.
Time for something different.
Ares spat golden blood. "We need to stop holding back. Use our divinities and ignore any loss of reputation."
"Agreed," Poseidon said coldly. His perfect composure had returned, but something in his eyes had changed. Fear lurked beneath the arrogance now. "All of us. Everything we have. Simultaneously."
Thor wiped blood from his ruined face. "Our ultimate techniques. All at once. Overwhelm him."
Shiva's four arms moved in complex gestures, cosmic fire reigniting around them. "If we don't end this now, we won't get another chance."
The gods spread out, forming a wide circle around Edward. Each one began channeling power. Divine energy built in waves, making the air shimmer, making reality itself groan under the pressure.
The barrier containing the battlefield began to crack. Gods in the audience rushed forward to reinforce it, pouring their own power into maintaining the containment.
In the human section, people felt the building power and shrank back in their seats.
"What's happening?"
"They're doing something! The air feels wrong!"
"Oh gods, they're going to kill him! They're going to—"
"SHUT UP! Just watch! Have faith in Kratos!"
Edward felt it too. Felt thirteen gods channeling everything they had. Felt reality bending under the weight of divine power being gathered. Saw each god preparing their ultimate technique—the attacks that had shaped myths, that had ended armies, that had carved their legends into human consciousness.
He looked at his hands. At the Blades of Chaos, still burning but dimmer now. At the gods surrounding him, preparing to unleash everything.
And he smiled.
Not the cold, empty smile from before. This was something else. Something that mixed Edward's determination with Kratos's savage joy. The smile of someone who'd been waiting for this. Who'd been hoping for this.
A real fight.
He raised his arms, and his voice boomed across the arena, carrying to every corner:
"GOOD! FINALLY!"
Then he activated it. The power he'd been holding in reserve. The true extent of what he was.
"SPARTAN RAGE!"
His body exploded with red light. Not the golden divine glow of gods, but something darker. Crimson like fury given form. His eyes turned completely red—no white, no pupil, just solid burning crimson.
His wounds stopped bleeding. His muscles expanded, growing denser, harder. Steam rose from his skin as divine power and battle-fury mixed into something terrible and primal. The ground beneath his feet cracked from the sheer pressure of his aura.
The skill doubled his strength. Then tripled it. His already formidable power became monstrous. The air around him distorted from heat and pressure.
But he wasn't done.
His voice rang out again, louder, carrying the weight of gods killed:
"My fury burns all…"
Thh arena started shaking . The whole audience felt it.
"…and my rage rends the world asunder."
"Let the heavens bleed."
His body glowed faintly beneath the blood and ash, not with divine light, but with something older. More terrifying.
"ἈΝΑΊΡΕΣΙΣ ΘΕΏΝ—ANAIRESIS THEON!"
The gods all felt it.
Fear.
Their instincts were screaming at them to run. To get far away from this man.
The arena floor split. The barrier cracked despite dozens of gods reinforcing it. The air turned blood-red as Edward's Noble Phantasm activated, as the crystallization of Kratos' legend manifested.
Divine weapons materialized around him. The Blade of Olympus, massive and blue, hovering behind him like a waiting executioner. The Nemean Cestus, gauntlets of the lion that couldn't be pierced. The Claws of Hades, dripping with death itself. The Boots of Hermes, granting impossible speed. The Bow of Apollo—taken from a sun god in his earth. The Chains of Atlas, that had held the world.
Each weapon was a trophy. Each represented a god killed. Each radiated power that made the watching deities uncomfortable.
But more than the weapons, Edward himself changed. His presence expanded, became heavier, more oppressive. The arena floor cracked beneath his feet not from weight but from conceptual pressure. The air itself seemed to rebel against his existence.
This was the God-Slayer's Authority made manifest. The walking extinction event that destroyed Olympus. The being that had ended an entire pantheon and claimed their power as his own.
The effect on the gods was immediate and devastating.
Apollo's divine light flickered. His wounds, which had been slowly healing through divine regeneration, stopped closing. The Sun God looked at his hands in horror as his golden skin began to look almost mortal.
Shiva's cosmic fire dimmed. His third eye, which had been trying to open, snapped shut and wouldn't respond to his commands. The Destroyer felt his divine authority being suppressed, compressed, diminished.
Perun's thunder began to scatter around him. The sky he commanded felt distant, his connection to his domain weakening.
Nezha felt his divine strength fading, his body actually feeling tired for the first time in his existence.
The Greek gods—Apollo, Poseidon, Heracles, Ares—felt it worst of all. The Noble Phantasm was specifically designed to kill them. Their divinity didn't just weaken. It began to erode, to burn away like morning mist under harsh sunlight.
Apollo fell to one knee, gasping. "My power... I can barely feel my authority... Wait, I remember this! That's how he killed our avatars!"
Poseidon's face had gone pale. "He's not just strong. He's erasing our divinity. How is that possible? How can a mortal—"
"He's not mortal," Heracles whispered, his eyes wide with recognition and dawning horror. "He's something else. Something that kills what we are."
In the divine sections, panic was spreading.
"WHAT IS THAT POWER?"
"It's hurting them! The Greek gods are—"
"Not just them! Look at Shiva! Look at Thor!"
"This violates every law! Mortals can't have this kind of—"
"HE'S NOT MORTAL!" someone screamed. "STOP SAYING THAT! WHATEVER HE IS, HE'S NOT MORTAL!"
In Zeus's box, the King of Olympus had stood up. His hands gripped the railing so hard the divine metal was bending. His face was twisted with an expression that mixed rage, fear, and something that might have been recognition. He remembered this very well. That cursed power.
Hera felt a little uneasy. The power was affecting all gods. But somehow, she remained unaffected. She smiled at Edward who stood in arena and shouted. "End this fight, husband!"
The god's around her gasped as they heard it.
"Did she call that mortal her husband?"
"Hera left Zeus?!"
"Zeus got his wife stolen from him?"
Zeus shattered the railing as he looked at Hera with hatred. He spoke coldly to Hermes. "Grab her and bring her here. If things go badly, we will use her as leverage."
Hermes wanted to ask something, but he stopped seeing the scary look on Zeus' face.
On the arena floor, Edward stood wreathed in red light and surrounded by divine weapons. His eyes blazed crimson. His body radiated power that made gods flinch.
When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of every god he'd ever killed:
"You wanted to erase humanity. To end an entire species because they didn't meet your standards."
He looked at each god in turn. "Now you're going to learn what extinction feels like."
*****
Thank you everyone, for reading this story and following this journey together. But like everything, all journies come to an end.
This arc would be the last arc posted here on Webnovel. I won't rant, complain or say anything.
It's been a privilege to write this and share this story with you all. But I'm honestly tired of the same old routine repeating. I'm probably going to switch to another site after this year.
Atleast I didn't delete it like I said. This story has about 200 chapters planned. I'll finish it on Patreon I guess.