The heavens were gloomy, the world ever-changing.
No longer showing any sign of weakness, the timeless witch Lucretia Zola gazed at the shifting weather in the sky. Even without performing any rituals, as a witch of the highest terrestrial order, she could still sense the dense divine energy gathering in the northwest.
She caressed her lower abdomen. Make no mistake, this area, known in the East as the Dantian below the navel, was also of paramount importance in the system of magic, for it was the source from which magical power and ki were generated. Her once-depleted magical reserves had, in a short time, been replenished to a point where she could protect herself.
And this was all thanks to him. In fact, this special energy, so similar to the versatile magical power yet seemingly more unique, had even caused her to experience slight hallucinations.
But suddenly, in that very moment, her heart began to pound like an out-of-control pendulum.
A cold wind from the dead of night rushed towards her. In the pitch-black, lightless environment, her five senses were rendered completely useless. Only her most fundamental spirit vision continued to function, straining to see.
Instinctively, Zola fell to her knees. In that instant, an overwhelming pressure had forced her to kneel, leaving her unable to resist. Something far more terrifying than a god's disastrous incarnation had just appeared beside her.
The pressure vanished as quickly as it came, but in that brief moment, she felt as if she had been plunged into the Underworld.
After several deep gasps, she strained to use her highest level of spiritual sense to probe the traces left behind. Even now, her eyes could not perceive that hidden darkness. Only faintly, through her spirit vision, could she see a girl wearing a cat-ear knit hat standing on the bed where Seiya had slept.
—Darkness, secrecy, the Underworld, life and death, the owl.
Athena Ro.
These sparse pieces of information pieced together a vague outline.
"A god... a god?" Zola's entire body was drenched in sweat.
On this island, isolated in the Mediterranean Sea, a third Heretic God had actually descended?!
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The arrival of the calamitous divine beast and its god brought a scene of world-altering terror to the town of Aranci.
Horrified screams, gasps of shock, chaotic turmoil—the people shrieked as if they had been cast into hell.
The storm winds blew away light objects like wood and cloth, sweeping them into the sky. Lightning flashed intermittently in the dark, gloomy heavens, and the bolts that fell from above scorched the earth and destroyed buildings.
And yet, in the midst of this wind and rain, someone was moving against the tide.
Even as Seiya was still carefully considering his strategy, Erica had already summoned her top-tier spiritual armament and charged forward.
With a boldness that bordered on fearlessness, using the high-grade magic of the Boots of Hermes as wings and wielding the top-tier spiritual armament Lionheart, Erica moved at an astonishing speed. She weaved through the wind and rain, closing in on the goat avatar that was raining down divine punishment of lightning.
"O great and supreme one, I pray you heed my counsel!" Erica shouted into the rain.
Though her attitude was incredibly humble, her actions were an offense against divine authority. She summoned Lionheart and, without any hesitation, unleashed the strongest trump card she could muster—imbuing her weapon with the same magical power as the Holy Lance that pierced Jesus.
A power that could even harm a god and make him bleed. Piercing the goat's defenses would be no difficult feat.
But this act of offending the divine visage only invited an even more terrifying divine wrath.
In an instant, lightning flashed and thunder roared. Countless buildings were struck, all sorts of objects were swept away by the storm, and a rare, torrential downpour ravaged the already battered town.
"What a reckless young lady," Seiya murmured softly.
He didn't dislike her resolve to draw her sword against a god. Regardless of her motives, he could never dislike a warrior who still had the courage to throw a punch in a desperate situation.
As if sensing something, Seiya suddenly turned his head to look southeast, in the direction of the witch's house from which he had come. Just for a moment, a faint palpitation, a ripple of power, had appeared there.
—It felt so unfamiliar, yet so familiar. What was that?
But his attention was quickly drawn to the east, where a brilliant white steed had appeared.
For two of the god's avatars to appear simultaneously in such a short time, Seiya didn't know whether to call it the war god's good fortune or humanity's misfortune.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Erica was moving so fast she seemed to be flying. The stone streets were constantly crumbling, but she leaped between rooftops, walls, lampposts, and any other foothold she could find on the buildings, her feet barely touching the ground.
"Saint Thomas, share your martyrdom with others!" With a new incantation, Erica threw her spear.
Imbued with a curse that guaranteed a fatal, unerring strike, it was a throw that even a god would find difficult to evade. For a being of a lower order—a divine or sacred beast—it was utterly inescapable.
The spear carved a deep wound in the goat's lower abdomen.
If she continued like this, perhaps she really could accomplish a feat on par with Seiya's—defeating a divine avatar. If she didn't possess such strength, she would never have harbored such an arrogant ambition in the first place.
But it was at that very moment she heard a voice. "Stand down, witch. This is not a battlefield that permits your presence."
The words were a spell, the spell was a command. Erica's entire body was bound by these simple words, and she retreated involuntarily, looking up at the white-robed youth descending from the wind and rain.
He actually appeared! No, that's not right... He did!
The white-robed youth possessed a divine aura that far surpassed the one from the other day. It was clear that in the intervening time, He had reclaimed several of his avatars. Even Erica couldn't estimate how much of His power He had recovered.
But what truly drove Erica to despair was something else.
She found her body trembling uncontrollably. This was an instinctual fear born from the immense difference between their souls. Just as a rabbit might go into shock at the scent of a tiger, just as human saliva is a fatal poison to a venomous snake, the vast chasm between human and god made it difficult for the proud Erica to even entertain the thought of fighting Him.
At that moment, the words of her uncle and the witch echoed in her ears once more.
Only when you truly stand face to face with a Heretic God will you know if you possess the necessary talent.
But for the loser, there is no right to survive.
The sheer presence, the oppressive weight of Him, completely crushed the obsession of her family and the pride of a genius witch.
Her face turned pale, but she didn't dare to refute the words of a true Heretic God. There wasn't even a hint of resistance in her eyes. She had never imagined she would ever wear such an expression.
So I was the fool without talent all along. In what she thought were her final moments, Erica suddenly understood.
"Stand up. If you are afraid, then stand behind me." A third voice rang out across the battlefield.
And as this voice sounded, Erica suddenly regained control of her body. But there was no joy on her face. Because another figure was now shouldering the entire burden for her.
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Greetings! ✨ Walnut here with another translation! Saint Seiya united by their strength!
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