Peloponnesus Peninsula, the coastal wall.
"How are things?"
The sky shook with a screeching roar as the hundred-meter-long, hundred-headed Great Dragon Ladon folded its wings and dropped onto the wall. Prometheus sprang from its back, his expression grim as he stared at the Oceanus Sea, buried under heavy clouds while mist boiled up and gathered in thick swirls. Frowning, he pressed for an answer.
"Not good. That thing's spirit particle reaction is still climbing. It hasn't attacked directly yet, but if we engage now and can't spare the attention to cover the rear, the aftershocks alone will devastate at least a hundred miles of coastline along Peloponnesus."
Samael's brow tightened, his voice low, the words leaving him like a headache made audible.
In the Greek World, civilization leaned heavily toward the sea. City-states like Crete, Sparta, Athens, and Mycenae, places that preserved the finest of humanity, were for the most part built along the coast.
Crete, the first to be hit, had already been reduced to rubble. Sparta sat relatively forward on the Peloponnesus Peninsula, with Mycenae next behind it. Their coastal regions and surrounding territories were densely populated, and all of it lay under the tsunami's shadow.
Worse, the coastline was long, narrow, and winding. When things turned urgent in wartime, it was nearly impossible to cover every stretch.
"How's it going on your end?" the Ancient Serpent asked, glancing back at the hazy outline of the city behind them.
"The message is out. The city-states along the line are opening their gates and pulling in people from the villages and towns as fast as they can. Anyone who needs to evacuate from inside the cities has already started converging on the Great Altar."
Prometheus thought for a moment, then added, "And the good news is that every city-state is mobilizing its full strength to build second and third defensive lines. They're inscribing magecraft formations to intercept the tsunami when it makes landfall. Reinforcements will arrive soon, too."
That they could exert such rapid, wide-reaching influence and get the coastal city-states moving like this was proof that their old efforts to guide humanity on this land had not been in vain.
And with the Oceanus Sea throwing up waves that reached the heavens, anyone with eyes could see what was coming. Very few people were reckless enough to treat their lives as expendable.
So under the double pressure of divine prophecy and immediate danger, the evacuation was already in full swing.
Samael patted his old friend's shoulder and finally let out a small breath. Then he turned and looked toward the blurred silhouette of Areopagus in the distance, his tone hardening.
"Contact Areopagus. Have Athens prepare to take in refugees. For humans, that's the safest place right now."
Relatively speaking, Athens sat along the mid-flank of the Peloponnesus Peninsula. Several layers of island arcs surrounded it, able to break up massive waves and significantly blunt the tsunami's force, and its defenses were airtight.
If they moved the elderly and the weak to the rear, then even if the situation shifted, the three defensive lines at the front of Peloponnesus could share the pressure. Otherwise, wherever the waves swept through, the aftermath would be a wasteland of mourning.
"Already being done," Prometheus replied with a nod.
Almost on cue, a dazzling pillar of light erupted from above the Great Altar on the Acropolis of Athens, silently carrying a wordless signal of understanding.
Samael's tension eased a fraction. He brushed his fingers over the long, narrow wound on his wrist, still beading blood, and asked about something else.
"And the things I left with you?"
"Relax. I gave instructions to every city-state along the route. I also left behind a portion of Golden Age Heroic Spirits who returned from the Pure Land of Bliss to supervise the operation. Every one of them was carefully chosen, the kind of figures who used to be kings, heroes, and the like in their own city-states."
Prometheus sounded completely confident, with a faint hint of teasing in his expression.
"Then… let's begin."
"Mm."
Samael and Medusa met each other's eyes and nodded. They stepped closer, placed both hands together, and interlaced their fingers.
As the two deities closed their eyes in solemn focus, golden and silver-gray light patterns resonated outward. Two-colored ripples spread like stains through water, extending a hundred miles in the blink of an eye.
...
At the same time, inside the Great Altars of every city-state along the line.
A crimson-purple blood pearl hung in midair, greedily drawing in the surrounding Ether while pulling up earth and stone around it, hardening everything into a massive archway over a hundred meters tall and more than ten zhang across.
When the archway finished forming, the blood pearl dispersed into wedge-shaped runes that carved themselves into both sides of the frame.
Within the hollow of the gate, a silver-gray, water-rippled membrane of light slowly took shape. Through it, one could faintly make out an open, expansive valley, ranks of soldiers on alert directing people onward, and the early outlines of tents and camps already spreading out.
Once the light patterns stabilized, luminous white pigeons flew out from the hollow stone gate, chirping as they carried divine edicts.
Evacuees gathered before the gate, having forced down their fear, steeled themselves and stepped through one after another. In what felt like a single moment of disorientation, they found themselves standing in the land beyond.
Looking around, they saw Areopagus and the Acropolis of Athens rising in solemn grandeur. The scent of soil and grass beneath their feet felt unreal, like something out of a dream.
But there was no time to gape. The moment they emerged, Athenian soldiers along the route half-herded, half-guided them straight into the camp to take shelter.
In just a little over ten minutes, the valley that had been empty and silent was already loud with voices and clamor.
...
Peloponnesus Peninsula, the coastal wall.
"That kind of large-scale spatial interference… can you really handle it?" Prometheus asked, sensing the authority imprints scattered across more than a dozen separate zones, unable to hide his concern.
"If it were just me, it'd be a lot rougher," Samael said calmly. He glanced at Medusa beside him, his gaze gentle. Then his tone turned heavy. "But Ana's earth authority is resonating with it, tuning it, and marking the range, so it's manageable."
"Still, I'm only giving them two hours to evacuate. And two hours is about the same window the city-states need to rally troops, regroup, and throw up walls for the next round."
"If anyone still refuses to leave after that, then they'll have to pray for their own survival. The Storm Sea's Planetary Vanguard could move at any moment. I can't afford to cover everything."
Prometheus had already heard enough from his old friend to understand just how terrifying a Planetary Vanguard could be, so he agreed without hesitation.
And to leave Samael and Medusa with as much strength as possible to keep the spatial gates running and face what was coming, the seer took the initiative to assume watch duty over the sea.
"By the way," Samael added, glancing around, "what about your old partner on the Caucasus Mountains? And those nymphs from the Sacred Garden?"
With his and Medusa's strength combined, moving the elderly and the weak to the rear wasn't difficult for Samael. Noticing a few missing figures, he asked casually.
"We're short on hands here," Prometheus replied. "I sent that old partner back to the Arima Caverns to gather your students."
"As for the nymphs you dragged out of the Sacred Garden, they're fine for watering flowers and tending plants, but if you put them on real work, they might just make a bigger mess."
"The little ones near the Waterside Treehouse, though, are a different story. Every last one of them is wild, fearless, and they've all been taught by Aunt Themis. They may not be orthodox combat nymphs, but they're not far off. So I'm planning to bring them along as well…"
As he spoke, Prometheus took several [Hearts of Earth] from Samael. While inscribing divine patterns, he embedded those Ether-absorbing gems into the coastal wall, further reinforcing the stability of the defenses.
Samael felt noticeably more at ease seeing how his old friend was handling things.
While they discussed the rest of the arrangements, dust suddenly rose in the rear. When they looked closer, they saw Atalanta, Prince Calydon, the God of Medicine, Orpheus, and other messengers who had been scattered across various city-states. They were now leading several thousand riders, escorting the first batch of gathered supplies, Magi, and priests at full speed.
The Ancient Serpent couldn't help letting out a small breath of relief.
Sefar's appearance had been brutally sudden. None of them had seen it coming.
But from climbing the Caucasus Mountains and freeing Prometheus, to sensing something wrong in the Oceanus Sea; from breaking three waves in succession, to urgently arranging evacuations, clearing the battlefield, and building the defense lines… all of it had been done in less than two hours.
Even in the Age of Gods, that kind of execution speed was pushing the absolute limit.
Only… the one out at sea seemed unwilling to wait any longer.
Before Samael could even properly catch his breath, the sky over the ocean abruptly darkened. On the chest of the Planetary Vanguard Sefar, the brilliant star core reversed its light, and layer after layer of luminous rings formed, their openings slowly aligning with the coastline.
After probing them with several tsunamis, the Planetary Vanguard had clearly concluded its initial methods wouldn't wash the sentient life off the surface. It was escalating the attack.
Watching the rings over the sea drink in spirit particles like a bottomless maw, the light mass within swelling higher and higher in pressure, Samael's head started to throb.
Boom!
But right then, a blood-red radiance that seemed to split heaven and earth surged up from the far side of the storm sea. Power fully gathered, it cleaved downward toward the Planetary Vanguard Sefar standing in the eye of the storm.
Blazing blood flames, tens of thousands of meters high, stained the sky a brutal scarlet. The storm sea's piled thunderclouds were cut cleanly in two, and that savage edge crashed diagonally into Sefar's chest.
Boom!
A thunderous detonation rolled outward. The cloud layers shook and tore apart, and a dark-red Ether torrent, unleashed without restraint, churned up towering waves along its path. For a moment, the entire sea looked like it was burning.
Sefar's star-core patterns flickered and wavered. The focused rings dimmed, then shattered one after another.
Blood Dominance? The Sword of the God of War?
That direction… the Colchis Sea?
Damn it—Ares, you reckless—
No. Forget reckless. He's a good man. A really, really good man.
Samael nearly laughed out loud, delighted. His opinion of that hot-tempered blond veteran shot up through the roof.
Planetary Vanguard Sefar was the kind of thing that, if it finished "growing," could overturn the entire Greek Age of Gods.
Even Zeus, the God King, would have to call in the Twelve Olympians just to barely bring Sefar down before he evolved to the seventh stage.
That was why Samael didn't dare move recklessly before he'd weathered a few rounds of probing and gotten properly set.
And then Ares, that absolute saint, went in headfirst and took the fully charged light cannon for Peloponnesus.
What kind of spirit was that? Selfless, devoted, asking nothing for himself and everything for others!
So hold on, Ares, you good comrade. Hang in there and buy us more time!
Samael stared out at the sea, eyes shining, silently cheering him on.
At the same time, the struck Sefar turned its body and locked onto the golden-armored male god driving a dragon-drawn chariot across the waves. Golden-blue star patterns spread along its arms as one cannon-mouthed ring of light after another converged in front of it.
...
Meanwhile, on Crete.
"That monster's attention has been pulled away, Lady Goddess! This is our chance to cross!" Daedalus shouted excitedly from atop the roof of a half-collapsed temple, where he'd been watching the sea.
"Mm. Then we begin," Stheno said, pushing herself off the courtyard pillar. She made the call in a single sentence, unusually serious for once.
At the summons, several hundred survivors crawled out of the Minotaur's labyrinth, tense and trembling. Carrying the items they'd prepared, they climbed to the broken high ground and, under the guidance of Daedalus and his son Icarus, began assembling the parts one by one.
Seven or eight minutes later, more than a hundred crude, makeshift contraptions were laid out before them, something like gliders pieced together from planks, feathers, resin, beeswax, and other materials. They looked poor and flimsy, no question about it.
But each one had small magic crystals inlaid into it to absorb Ether, along with magecraft formations carved in to convert wind force.
"The wind speed's perfect! The wind direction's perfect! We can take off!" Icarus called, sticking a flag out to read the airflow. When the cloth fluttered just right, he turned back, practically vibrating with excitement.
The survivors, though, recoiled. Faced with something so unfamiliar and the fear of heights, most of them hesitated, and not a single person dared step forward to try.
Just as Icarus's blood rushed to his head and he was about to jump first to defend his father's work, two figures squeezed out from behind Stheno and Euryale.
"We'll go first," they said with helpless, bitter smiles. "You two stay here and teach them how to control it."
Deucalion and Pyrrha, the couple the two malicious goddesses had tricked into getting swept up in this disaster, resigned themselves to being the test run. They strapped on the glider-like wings and leapt.
The wind howled. Their bodies dropped like stones.
The survivors cried out in alarm, but then the two figures caught the current and climbed, riding the rising air, gliding off toward the Peloponnesus Peninsula.
With a successful example right in front of them, the crowd immediately lit up. People rushed forward in a panic, scrambling for spots, and a small burst of chaos broke out as they jostled one another.
"Asterios…" Euryale called lightly, her tone playful as she hooked a finger against her bowstring.
"Rrrgh!"
The dull-horned monster beside her erupted with killing intent. Both long-handled axes crashed into the ground, carving deep gouges and sending shattered stone spraying everywhere.
The survivors went quiet at once, meek as sheep. They lined up, took their wings one by one, followed instructions, and joined the line to glide out.
At the end, after Daedalus and Icarus strapped oversized wings onto the Minotaur, they took off together with the two goddesses.
Euryale and Stheno, as Typhon's offspring with divine nuclei, could fly on their own to begin with. But for the novelty of it, the two ill-natured goddesses tried the little contraptions with bright-eyed enthusiasm.
In the roaring gale, one black speck after another rode the wind out over the Aegean Sea.
But just as they reached the midpoint, pillars of light dozens of meters thick, red and blue braided together, detonated across the storm sea. Terrifying Ether turbulence scoured the air, blasting away the spray and waves, forming halos that were dazzling to look at and lethal to be anywhere near.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The delayed shockwave rolled in. The wings on several survivors at the back of the line screamed with a teeth-gritting tearing sound.
Then, one after another, they shrieked as they fell toward the raging sea.
At the same time, Stheno and Euryale unfurled the wing membranes on their backs and turned, intending to grab those poor fools and haul them up.
But the instant they looked back, their pupils snapped tight.
Because there it was: in the hands of the ferocious god in the storm sea, a multicolored sword no bigger than a toothpick drew in countless stars and expanded into a massive blade a hundred meters long.
Above it, rings of light condensed and spun, linking at last to a mysterious luminous blot shaped like a tear track.
Hummm!
In an instant, the light sword's edge rotated and dipped forward. Space itself rang in unison, the world bleached of color, and a seven-colored beam erupted from that tear of light. Focused through layer upon layer of rings, it swept across the Aegean Sea and fired straight at the Peloponnesus Peninsula!