Saint Seiya: Heretic Athena?

The first to suffer was the one closest to the Saint, Seiya—the god of wine, Dionysus. He was the lame one who couldn't see the situation clearly, the mad incarnation who would unconsciously walk the path of self-destruction. Before he could even react, he was impaled through the chest by Seiya's right hand and returned to myth. The moment his figure dissipated, the Bacchanal that had covered the battlefield also came to an end. The remaining gods either fled, mourned, or rose to the challenge.

It was still Thor and Nezha. Thor attacked with the divine speed of lightning. Nezha's Wind-Fire Wheels boiled with blood plasma. Seiya, braving Thor's lightning, tore off the lotus boy's arm, and then, with another slash of his sword, completely ran his half-ruined body through.

Turning, Seiya stepped and clenched his fist, unleashing a brilliant fist of light into the air. This light, having already undergone a qualitative change, even boiled the entire surface of the sea into a thick soup.

If one possessed an Authority related to time and slowed down the speed of the rushing light by several hundred times, mortals would have seen Seiya's swinging fist ascend with almost infinite speed, like a meteor shower rising from the earth to the heavens. The god of thunder, Thor, high in the sky, was struck by a meteor. He smiled, and then, in silence, transformed into a ball of exploding plasma lightning. The lightning and high temperatures raged across the sky.

But this meteor shower was not over. Its area of coverage was so vast that it was like a natural disaster aimed specifically at the gods.

This was a scene like the end of the century. Meteors fell like a curtain of rain, wrapped in lightning and flames. The wine god had died a miserable death, Thor had fallen in battle. Standing in the foam of the rising waves was the princess of the foam.

The Saint's aura poured down like a collapsing mountain. The goddess of beauty instinctively retreated step by step. This was irrational. The avatars of eleven deities summoned by the Belt of Friendship—even the God of Steel who had descended with a hero's divinity would have met his end here. But her opponent was displaying an even more magnificent power, constantly rising, with no end in sight.

"Friends of my allies, now I beseech... huh?" The goddess of beauty looked at the battlefield in astonishment.

Hermes and the goddess of victory, Nike, had long since fled. Even the gravely wounded Nezha had vanished. She had originally wanted to use these remaining friends to create an opportunity for herself to escape, but—where were the people?! Where were the gods?!

How could They flee?! They were just summoned by her through the Belt of Friendship, beings who relied on her existence. If she perished, They couldn't possibly remain in the mortal world as Heretic Gods for long!

Her thoughts were about to connect, but there was no time to think anymore, because the detestable God-slaying Pegasus had already arrived before her.

Seiya wasted no words. He raised his hand and grabbed the goddess of beauty by the neck, intending to directly tear out her divine core. But in the next instant, he hesitated for a rare moment. The waves lapped at his feet, but within the shell before him, only an empty husk remained.

"Princess of the foam... is it? You can't run."

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Bassae, Greece. The Temple of Apollo, on the pilgrim's path.

In a small, lightless alley, a man who looked like an English gentleman, holding a cane and wearing a top hat, strolled leisurely through the ancient lane. He put on a monocle and looked at the antiques before him, some real, some fake, occasionally buying an interesting item or two from the vendors.

Until he walked into the depths of the alley and took out an ancient stone tablet from his coat. The tablet was engraved with a very primitive and simple pattern: a man with both hands and feet bound in chains. Around the edge of this picture were patterns of a bird with spread wings, the sun, the moon, and the stars.

"Prometheus, the grimoire that hides the secret rite of stealing fire has finally fallen into my hands. Did you, with your foresight, predict this ending?" Hermes revealed a smug smile. Unlike those brutes who enjoyed fighting and the fools who just watched the show, his only purpose in descending this time was this single treasure.

He had even voluntarily invested a portion of his power, descending with the fourfold Authorities of the thief, the fraud, magic, and the traveler. In a sense, he was the strongest among all the descended deities. And the Authorities he held were fully capable of allowing him to traverse worlds and return to the divine realm.

"To think it still hides the power of the sun. The Eastern war god, is it... hehe, and on the side, I can sell the secret of where Stella (Aphrodite) is hiding in this world to that arrogant goddess of war... I am very curious, when she meets Seiya, will she kill this Pegasus who symbolizes her fallen aspect?"

He suddenly felt a shadow move. In the next instant, his smile froze on his face.

"Greetings, my beloved sis... ter..." Hermes spat out blood, but still forced a smile. And standing before Him, Athena indifferently watched the thief whose lower limbs had been bitten off by a giant black snake. "Trying to use words to awaken my sibling affection for you, Hermes? You clown, perhaps you really could make me crack a smile."

Hermes laughed. "So it is the triune holy mother... hehe, that Stella fellow has walked right into another dead end, hehe!"

Those were the last words Hermes left in this world. The giant snake opened its mouth, and darkness swallowed the divine messenger. And the stone tablet fell into Athena's hands. But she did not leave immediately. As white wings descended, the winged god of victory, Nike, knelt on one knee on the ground.

"Praise be to your awakening, O bright-eyed goddess, who oversees the flow of all things. Your wisdom is boundless, your power is unmatched." With that, she transformed into a winged staff and landed in Athena's palm.

Now, there was only one left.

—Japan, Tochigi Prefecture. Nikkō Tōshō-gū.

This was the main shrine of all Tōshō-gū shrines, the sacred ground where the deified Tōshō Daigongen had manifested. But at this moment, this sacred place was filled with a murderous atmosphere.

"Venerable Great God of the Three Altars Sea Assembly, we pray you halt your steps for now!" Monks of the Tendai school, with graying hair and long, thick eyebrows, now blocked the path of the lotus boy who held a fire-tipped spear, their hands pressed together. "Behind us is the palace where the God-Lord is enshrined! It is not a place you should come!"

The sincerity of these Tendai monks was real, but the barrier they had jointly erected was still blocking Nezha's advance.

Nezha lowered his gaze, looking at the edge of the barrier that was slightly stinging his scalp, at the humble but resolute monks before him, at the magnificent western palace behind them. He suddenly curled his lips, revealing a cruel smile overflowing with malice.

"—Die."

It was just that one short word, but it was the purest of commands. The long spear set the plains ablaze, and the old monk at the very front was split in two.

This great god of the Three Altars Sea Assembly began a massacre that the monks could not react to. He swung the fire-tipped spear in his hand, his arrogance tinged with brutality, equally bestowing upon every defiant monk the most merciful result—death. Broken vajras, severed heads, blood plasma boiling on the Wind-Fire Wheels—all this happened in less than a second. The entire scene was enveloped in a mist of blood.

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