Rustle...
In an instant, strange vibrations rippled through the forest surrounding the twenty battle nymphs. The ground quaked, and trees toppled in swathes.
What is that?!
The nymphs turned toward the sound, raising their eyes to the source barely a hundred meters away. From the shadowed treeline, nine monstrous serpent heads emerged, each flicking black forked tongues that hissed through the air.
Venom dripped from the creature's mouths, sizzling as it hit the ground and corroded gaping holes into the soil. Foul, green smoke rose in curls, thick with the stench of rot. Dozens of crimson eyes glowed like blood-red lanterns, turning coldly in their sockets.
A shiver ran down the nymphs' spines. They gasped, instinctively raising their bows to fire a volley at the nine-headed beast.
The forest filled with the clanging of metal. Most of their arrows bounced harmlessly off the beast's black scales, while a few managed to wedge crookedly into the gaps between them. Even its blood-red eyes—supposedly its weak point—snapped shut, deflecting the few arrows that had flown true.
The creature's massive muscles writhed, forcing out every embedded arrow. The wounds sealed in an instant, its flesh regenerating before their eyes.
An immortal divine beast!
The battle nymphs stared at the advancing monstrosity, its strength and resilience palpable. Their jaws tightened as they fell into formation, preparing for battle.
"Watch out—it's a decoy!"
Artemis's sharp voice cut through the chaos. She had sensed something whispering through the forest's ether, and her face paled as she turned toward her twenty battle nymphs, shouting a desperate warning.
But it was already too late. The air pulsed with strange currents of ether—some eerie, some violently chaotic—and a wave of power burst forth.
Hum!
A psychic tremor reverberated through the clearing, invisible but overwhelming.
Thud!
Two nymphs were slammed to the ground by a pair of slender claws.
A lion-bodied, winged woman with wild, tangled hair loomed over them—a Sphinx. Her gaze was manic as she crouched close, muttering in a feverish tone and hurling riddles at her captives.
"What has legs yet none know of them, stands taller than trees, reaches to the clouds, yet never grows any higher?"
"It devours all—worms, fish, birds, beasts, flowers, and trees. It chews through iron, corrodes steel, turns stone to ash, kills kings, destroys cities, turns seas to fields and mountains to plains."
The two nymphs blanched, terrified by the deranged divine creature before them. Gritting their teeth, they swung their swords upward and shouted in defiance.
"Get away from us!"
"Wrong! Wrong! You're wrong! Off the cliff with you! I'll throw you off the cliff!"
The Sphinx leapt back, laughing cruelly. She seized the two struggling nymphs by the arms, ready to hurl them into the distant ravine.
"Leave them alive!"
Samael, Medusa, and Athena shouted the order in unison.
Clicking her tongue in irritation, the Sphinx tossed the two battle nymphs back to the ground instead. Then, with a gleam in her eyes, she leaned close again, grinning as she continued her maddening tirade.
"One more chance. You cannot see it, touch it, hear it, or smell it. It hides behind the stars and beneath the hills, filling the void. It comes a little, then all at once. It ends life and silences laughter. What is it?"
The two nymphs' heads throbbed with dizziness, their ears ringing from the Sphinx's haunting voice. Their swords slashed aimlessly, but the maddening riddle invaded their minds, stirring panic and despair—so much so they almost turned their blades on themselves.
If they had known anything about later ages, they might have raised their middle fingers and shouted,
"Riddle-maker, get the hell out of Greece!"
Meanwhile, the rest of the battle nymphs were also being overwhelmed.
The Nemean Lion brushed aside arrows and blades alike, its iron-hard mane and supple hide deflecting every strike. Each of its massive paws pinned down a nymph's fragile neck—one flex of its claws, and it could snap them in two.
"Roar!"
"Thud!"
"What the hell are you roaring for?! That's deafening! And look at the mess you've made—those two little ones are covered in your stench! Next time, brush your teeth!"
The Nemean Lion's earth-shaking bellow cut off mid-roar. It stared dejectedly at the arrow sticking out of its skull, then rolled its eyes at the Gorgon sisters standing atop the back of the Colchis dragon above.
Beneath its massive paws, two battle nymphs—soaked in the lion's glistening saliva—caught a whiff of the rancid odor clinging to their bodies. Their stomachs turned, and they gagged, repeatedly twisting away to vomit.
Immediately after, Euryale and Stheno raised their longbows, shattering the weapons of several nymphs in rapid succession. Their Mystic Eyes flared, freezing more than a dozen nymphs in place.
Meanwhile, the Chimera—King of Beasts—used its three heads to subdue three nymphs at once, each effortlessly pinned down beneath a different jaw.
The Hydra, which had served as bait and caused the initial commotion, slithered onto the scene next. Its nine enormous heads loomed overhead, and with nothing more than a collective, sinister glare, it froze the remaining few combatants in terror.
"You!"
Apollo, atop his Sun Chariot, wore a grim, sullen expression. His eyes darted warily as he looked upon the monstrous creatures now surrounding them. The nine Muses beside him turned pale, their elegant composure shattered by the sight of the beasts closing in, fangs bared and eyes glinting with predatory malice.
Moments ago, they had the advantage—encircling their opponents. But in the blink of an eye, the roles had reversed. Now they were the ones surrounded.
In just a single exchange, twenty divine-ranked battle nymphs had been scattered and subdued—and that was without their enemies even using lethal force.
Had they wished, a little more strength would have been enough to wipe out half the nymphs entirely.
Though the Muses were Main Gods, they were deities of knowledge, music, and the arts—goddesses of creation and inspiration, not war. Their combat ability was limited, barely enough to match the twenty nymphs in equilibrium.
If the opposing side chose to turn hostile, none of them would escape unscathed.
At that moment, Samael cast a sidelong glance at the offspring of Typhon who had arrived to support him. A faint, knowing smile curved his lips as his gaze drifted toward Apollo, the God of Light, whose face was stiff with humiliation.
Hmph. Don't think you're the only one who can call in reinforcements.
Even if the Arima Cavern's forces don't show, Mycenae is just nearby. The army stationed there, combined with Athena's masterful command, would be more than enough to keep you busy.
Do you even know where you're standing?
This is the Peloponnesian Peninsula—a vital stronghold of humanity. Here, believe it or not, my word carries more weight than Zeus's.
The ancient serpent narrowed his eyes and smirked coldly. He and Medusa kept Apollo and the Nine Muses under watch, while Athena held Artemis in check. The standoff dragged into silence once more.
But this time, the divine pressure from the other side had weakened. They were as meek as rabbits caught beneath a tiger's claws, fearful that one wrong move might provoke Samael's side into burying them alive.
"What are you doing?! Stop—stop this at once!"
A startled cry rang out from behind, breaking the tense stillness. Four figures emerged together from the dense underbrush.
The voice belonged to Hestia, who raised her hand and pointed accusingly toward Apollo and the gods beside him.
"Aunt Hestia, what are you—"
Artemis turned toward the blue-ribboned goddess, her face a mix of shock and confusion. Her eyes flicked toward the three figures accompanying Hestia, equally bewildered.
Samael lowered his cross-shaped spear and waved a hand subtly, signaling the Typhon offspring to release the captured nymphs. He then spread his arms wide and strode toward the stunned Apollo siblings, laughing heartily.
"Haha, what a pleasant surprise…
I forgot to introduce myself…
Hello there, my dear great-niece and great-nephew."
Apollo and Artemis froze, exchanging blank, disbelieving stares.
Their minds went completely blank.