The universe is vast and boundless. Even Earth in the Age of Gods is nothing more than a babbling infant in the long chronicle of cosmic time.
Among the brilliant stars exist civilizations of countless forms, each at a different stage of growth.
According to Samael's memories from a past life, within the Milky Way where Earth resides, a comet that survives by preying on other planetary civilizations passes through on a roughly fourteen-thousand-year cycle.
Its appearance resembles a "weeping eye." Wherever it goes, any targeted civilization of intelligent life is destroyed and absorbed.
The spirit particles left behind after those civilizations collapse are reclaimed and reused, becoming fuel that drives it onward as it continues its endless hunt among the stars.
Because of this, the comet came to be known as the "Star-Eater," Velber.
Owing to its dreadful nature, it is also called the "Harvest Star," the "Star of Ruin," and the "Demon Broom Star."
The planets that nurture civilizations along its route are nothing more than its grazing grounds.
Velber itself is the core of the Star-Eater. As a civilization hunter that has completed an untold number of harvests, it employs methods far more efficient than crude stellar collisions that require no sophistication at all.
By using fragments of its own roaming star body as raw material and fusing them with various alien legacies, it creates combat units that exist solely to destroy civilizations.
These are the so-called [Planetary Vanguard].
Organic lifeforms entrusted with such a mission descend upon their designated harvest zones aboard tear-shaped star vessels known as AntiCell.
Having carried out so many civilization harvests, the Star-Eater Velber has evolved to an extremely terrifying level, and it can command more than one Planetary Vanguard.
The one currently descending upon Earth bears the designation Velber 02, also known as Sefar.
In theory, once a Planetary Vanguard awakens, it will employ every possible means to devastate civilization, absorbing spirit particles from sentient life to fuel its growth.
Only after an entire planet's civilization has been completely wiped out will its functions shut down automatically.
From the moment it appears, its power already stands at the level of a God King. Worse still, it can compress spirit particles and continue evolving without end.
If allowed to grow and advance to the seventh stage, its complete form, the entire Greek Age of Gods would likely be annihilated.
How did something this monstrous suddenly appear? Why was there no warning at all?
And why did it have to be at this exact moment, when Areopagus was on the verge of suppressing Zeus?
While keeping a wary eye on the Oceanus Sea, the Ancient Serpent's thoughts raced as he reorganized what he knew about this abomination, cursing inwardly.
There was no other choice. With the situation still unclear, they could only hold their ground and wait for reinforcements.
If they withdrew now, the colossal waves unleashed by the Planetary Vanguard Sefar would sweep across the Greek city-states, flattening them along the way, devouring countless humans, and drawing the spirit particles of those sentient lives into its core. Who knew how far it would evolve by then?
It was better to understand the situation first before taking the next step.
Hopefully, those scattered across the various coastal city-states could hold the line this time.
Samael stared at the ocean as towering waves, laced with storm winds and thunder and rising tens of thousands of meters high, surged toward the coastline once more. He drew in a deep breath, bent his bow, nocked an arrow, and poured divine power into it. Pulling the bowstring back to a full moon, he released it in a sudden flash.
...
Meanwhile, in Athens.
Waves nearly level with Areopagus came rolling in, placing the entire Acropolis of Athens beneath the shadow of a tsunami. The overwhelming expanse of deep blue and the salty, bitter stench of seawater pressed down, making it hard to breathe.
As billions of tons of seawater were about to crash down, the clear chime of metal ornaments rang out from the temple atop Areopagus, and heaven and earth seemed to fall into solemn stillness.
In the next instant, Themis, the Goddess of Justice, clad in a white gauze gown with a black veil covering her eyes, stepped forward from the temple stairs and instantly shifted to the sea surface several kilometers away.
Her pale fingers moved with a strange rhythm as she gently plucked the golden scales atop the sword hilt. Blue-white starlight descended from the heavens, forming a magnificent curtain of light that blocked the colossal waves.
Even so, the momentum of the surging tide was terrifying. It struck the scales on the sword hilt hard enough to set them ringing nonstop, while the starry barrier flickered and dimmed.
Before this wave could fully subside, the next massive surge was already following close behind.
Themis frowned slightly, just about to draw her sword and invoke a higher-order authority, when the towering statue of the Goddess of Wisdom atop Areopagus, carved from pure white marble and standing dozens of meters tall, moved as if it had come alive. Its arm thrust forward.
At once, the spear held in Athena's grasp tore through the sky like a meteor, dragging behind it a long tail of flame born from violent friction with the air, and plunged straight into the second wave.
Boom!
The marble spear exploded within the wall of water. Shards scattered in all directions, slicing the wave into countless segments. The tangled kinetic forces canceled and ground against one another, and before the massive impact could even reach the shore, it had already dissipated for the most part.
A casual strike, reducing the complex to the simple. The contrast in size and sheer force between the marble spear and the colossal wave created the surreal impression of an ant lifting a mountain.
What caused that stretch of seawater to cancel itself out and produce such a stunning miracle was, at its core, the application of wisdom.
Within the Academy of Athens, Magi, scholars, and warriors alike stared upward at the breathtaking scene, their faces alight with excitement. Those with sharper insight felt a quiet sense of realization and silently gave thanks for the inspiration bestowed by the Goddess of Wisdom.
Do not be intimidated by difficult problems. Calm yourself, find the right angle of approach, and even the most troublesome challenges may unravel with ease.
Wisdom holds limitless potential. It can redraw order for a chaotic world.
At that moment, Themis hovered in midair. Seeing the crisis dispelled once again, the fingers clenched around her sword hilt loosened slightly. She raised her eyes toward the silvery-white streak racing in from Olympus, the corner of her lips lifting unconsciously.
Athena's control over power had grown even stronger.
Such refined precision was something even she could not match.
Boom!
The silver meteor crashed down, striking the very center of the Acropolis wall. The war goddess, riding the winged horse Pegasus, galloped along the battlements, victory scepter and goatskin divine shield held high. Her radiant figure ignited a wave of cheers throughout Athens.
"Athena! Athena! Athena!"
Once, their goddess had twice defeated Poseidon, the tyrant of the seas, granting the city its name and bringing prosperity and peace to this land.
Now, their goddess was still with Athens, still with its people.
After driving the city's morale to its peak with almost spell-like fervor, Athena decisively took command of the entire city-state. She efficiently gathered residents from outside the walls and activated the coastal magecraft defense barriers.
To minimize losses and preserve their remaining strength, the Goddess of Wisdom did not hesitate to dispatch most of the forces currently stationed on Areopagus to make contact with the scattered towns under Athens' authority.
Heroes clad in sacred armors of bronze, silver, and gold rode Pegasus steeds of every color, now grown into entire lineages. Like meteors cutting across the sky, they sped off with clear purpose toward their destinations.
Beyond Areopagus, the latent potential of the Academy of Athens was also fully mobilized.
All faculty and students were urgently conscripted. Defensive spell arrays were engraved, tsunami impact ranges calculated, and plans devised to deal with the next wave. These problems were swiftly handed over to scholars and Magi alike.
The people of Athens were fired with enthusiasm. Faithfully following each divine decree from Areopagus, they reinforced city walls, reshaped defensive lines, or armed themselves with swords, shields, and armor to join the guard. Satisfaction and pride shone on every face.
With these countless "gears" and "screws" turning in unison, the entire city ran like a tightly wound machine, brimming with astonishing vitality.
...
Sparta.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Heracles stood proudly atop the city wall, drawing his bronze bow. Muscles bulging, he loosed nine arrows in rapid succession, each saturated with divine power, shattering the advancing tsunami head-on.
Seawater surged into the air and crashed back down like a torrential rain. Along with it fell grotesque sea beasts, hurled onto the coast, into villages, and even onto the streets of the city-state.
The bloodthirsty creatures, still reeling from the impact, quickly recovered. They opened their gaping maws, thrashing and lunging wildly as they bit at anything in reach.
In the blink of an eye, several nearby houses and unlucky civilians were torn apart.
The creaking snap of broken beams, the dull sounds of flesh being ripped, and the dying screams of people crushed and chewed echoed without pause.
Across the coastal region, dust billowed into the air, and large swaths of dried earth were stained red with blood.
In streets and alleys, humans no larger than ants fled their crumbling homes, desperately trying to escape the sea beasts rampaging ashore.
Panic and chaos spread uncontrollably through the crowd.
Bang! Bang bang!
At that moment, the rhythmic clang of weapons striking shields echoed from the main road, delivering a steady, grounding force to hearts gripped by fear.
Through gaps between the alleys, the Spartans saw their prince and princess, swords and shields in hand, leading several squads of Spartan soldiers. They split up and surged outward, methodically clearing the sea beasts that had fallen into the city.
"First squad, throw your javelins! Bleed that shark out. Give it a clean death!"
"Second squad, switch to blades! Cut off that mutated octopus's tentacles! Open a path and rescue the wounded!"
"Priests! Where are the priests of Apollo's temple? The Spirit Core! Lock onto the Spirit Core's position!"
"..."
Under the command of the twin swordsmen, the Spartan soldiers formed tight phalanxes, moving like a rotating machine of slaughter as they dismembered and killed each sea beast in their path.
The slick bodily fluids of marine creatures and the reek of their blood spread through the air. Instead of unsettling the Spartans, it gradually dispelled their initial panic and awakened the fierce battle spirit in their chests.
One after another, the young and able-bodied returned to their homes, took shields and spears down from the walls, armed themselves with bows, arrows, and long swords, and set out in groups of three or five to hunt down any sea beasts still thrashing about.
Even after the monsters within the city were dealt with, the youths, high-spirited and eager, poured out through the gates together, rushing toward affected villages and towns to continue the hunt on their own initiative.
This was a city forged in war. With seventy to eighty percent of its population made up of able-bodied warriors, once order was restored and leadership established, it could swiftly transform into a formidable engine of war.
...
Thessaly.
Caenis raised her arm shield with her left hand and smashed a saw-toothed flying fish until its brains splattered. With her right, she hurled her spear forward, the weapon whistling as it pinned a sea serpent dozens of meters long to the ground. She brushed the seaweed off her head with clear disgust and strode forward.
King Peleus, driving his seahorse-drawn chariot, reined in after finishing off the last remaining sea beast.
Telamon, acting as his second, leapt ashore, casually pulled the spear from the sea serpent's Spirit Core, and tossed it back to Caenis, his tone warm and friendly.
"You've done good work…"
"Tch. Spare me. How's it looking up ahead?"
Caenis took the spear offhandedly and stared out at the fog-choked sea, asking with clear impatience.
Thessaly might have been her homeland, but ever since that incident where Poseidon tried to force himself on her and she'd been driven to flee to Areopagus for refuge, she'd felt little attachment to the place.
So the two royals in front of her could forget about trying to rein her in.
Still, both Peleus and Telamon were easygoing by nature.
The demigod king looked out over the Oceanus Sea, its waves gradually easing, relief flickering in his eyes.
"Thank the gods Thetis was here. That's the only reason this defense felt so easy. If those sea beasts and the flood had made it into the city, Thessaly would've been in real trouble."
"That's only because someone at the Peloponnesus outpost shaved off nearly half the tsunami's momentum for us. Otherwise, how could it possibly be easy?"
Caenis snorted, clearly unimpressed, and cut him off.
But after a brief silence, even the hard-mouthed warrior knit her brows as she watched the vast sea and the thunderstorm clouds spreading across the Oceanus. She muttered under her breath.
"Still… even after it's been weakened, it's hitting this hard. This mess probably isn't going to be simple…"
Almost at the same time, coastal city-states everywhere began resisting the sudden, overwhelming catastrophe under the leadership of descending human heroes, and even Divine Spirits.
...
Thebes.
Perseus, the great hero who once ruled here, returned to his homeland with his sons and his close friend Orion. Together they drove back the surging waves, earning thunderous cheers and an outpouring of support from the people.
Meanwhile, King Eurystheus, who had followed Hera's oracle and deliberately set things up for his cousin Heracles, could only step down in awkward silence when faced with the arrival of his forebears, unwillingly reduced to a subordinate.
...
Corinth.
Sisyphus, the king who had deceived Death itself, stood proudly atop the walls under the stunned gaze of his people, leaving behind yet another tale of mocking the gods and walking away unscathed.
And inland city-states such as Arcadia, Calydon, and Delphi also began gathering forces under oracles and the call of their own divine-blood heroes, preparing to respond to the disaster.
...
Meanwhile, on Crete, in the Kingdom of Mycenae.
As the isolated island struck first by the tsunami, devastation stretched as far as the eye could see.
Ruined buildings were wrapped in foul, rotting seaweed. A shattered plaza was littered with stranded dead fish and struggling sea beasts. In streets, alleys, and courtyards, human remains with broken bones and torn sinews lay twisted into grotesque, abstract shapes. Bloated cattle and horse carcasses had become nests for sea snakes and parasitic creatures…
In the instant disaster struck, nearly eighty percent of the city was smashed apart. With no time to react, the people of the Kingdom of Minos were swallowed by calamity.
And yet, in this slaughterhouse of a living hell, two crimson-purple light membranes, coiled like sleeping serpents, shielded the city's core, protecting the last unfallen strip of sanctuary.
Boom!
Through the dust and smoke, a towering figure with twin horns and long white hair rose upright. The crimson-purple membrane flared outward, and several tons of bricks and debris were hurled aside by his thick arms.
The horned youth then set down a pair of long-handled giant axes, cleared away several wooden beams and chunks of marble, and revealed the half-collapsed entrance to a hidden passage.
Looking in from afar, the routes inside were tangled and complex. It was deep and dim within, enough to make an ordinary person dizzy after only a moment.
Clearly, this was a labyrinth, a prison built to confine the bull-headed monster Minotaur, a symbol of fear and losing one's way.
The Kingdom of Minos would regularly throw war slaves and criminals into it to placate the monster's rage.
But now, it had become Crete's last refuge.
Euryale, crawling out from beneath the ruins, patted the arm of the horned, red-eyed youth beside her and nodded in approval.
"Not bad, Asterios. You're pretty capable."
"Mmm… uh… mmm~"
The monster let out a few indistinct sounds, then crouched to the side, dull-eyed and docile.
"Don't celebrate yet," Stheno said, waving away the dust drifting through the corridor. Arms folded, she leaned lazily against the smooth stone wall and poured cold water on the mood. "This tsunami isn't that simple. The ship's gone, the storm's still going. Figure out how we're going to stay alive and get out of here first."
As she shifted aside, faint rustling echoed through the passage. One after another, dust-caked human figures, shaken and wide-eyed, emerged from the labyrinth.
There were more than a hundred of them.
If it were just the few of them, it would be manageable. But escorting over a hundred extra bodies and getting them across to Peloponnesus made the difficulty jump straight through the roof.
"Um… Lady Goddesses, perhaps I can try…"
From the tense, uneasy crowd, an elderly man wearing a monocle and rough cloth clothes pushed forward and spoke respectfully.
"And how do you plan to 'try,' old man?" Stheno asked.
"I need to gather a large amount of materials from the city—beeswax, feathers, resin, fish scales, wood, and the like—so I can make tools that will help us cross the sea. And… I'm old. My hands and feet aren't as steady as they used to be. Please allow my son, Icarus, to assist me."
As he spoke, the old man tugged a blond young man forward from behind him, someone who looked almost exactly like him. The boy was secretly stealing glances at Euryale and Stheno, and before he realized it, he was staring in a daze.
Stheno lifted a hand to stroke her exquisitely sculpted cheek. Clearly pleased by the effect her beauty was having, she brightened and nodded.
After the old man accepted the order, gathered some people, and prepared to go out in search of materials, Stheno watched his hunched back and, on a whim, called out to him.
"Old man, if the tide comes surging back, I won't have time to go save you separately."
"I understand," he replied. "You've already saved us once. That alone is an immense kindness. We humans shouldn't become your burden, so we have to find a way to save ourselves."
Stheno paused, then her lips curled upward as she studied him with curiosity.
"Right. Old… old man, I never asked your name."
"Daedalus, Your Divine Highness. I am the craftsman responsible for building this labyrinth."
He pressed a hand to his chest in a respectful salute. When he looked back toward the Minotaur's labyrinth, his gaze was gentle, and his voice carried the quiet pride of a master artisan.