"Defeating you now would be meaningless," Lucius said, dispersing the Mars' Sword, his eyes half-lidded with a lazy air, his tone dismissive.
"No sense of accomplishment. No satisfaction."
He slowly pulled the Gorgon Stone from his pocket.
The divine artifact Athena had long pursued instantly drew her gaze.
"If you were in your trinity state, defeating you would surely be far more entertaining," He continued.
"Whether you seek battle or something else," The silver-haired goddess said, reluctantly tearing her eyes from the Gorgon Stone, "the restored ancient goddess me would be the strongest!"
"Hmph. In that case, I'll look forward to it," Lucius replied.
His figure vanished, reappearing atop a crumbling high-rise nearby, crouching as he looked down at the Earth Mother standing below.
His face bore a smile that was half anticipation, half mockery.
That should do it, he thought.
In Athena's eyes, he must now seem like a bored, capricious Heretic God.
Arrogant, reckless, powerful, and chasing thrills.
Though furious at her weakened state, she couldn't overpower him and had to comply—for now.
"So, you'll return the snake and face my complete form?" Athena asked.
Lucius didn't answer directly.
He closed his eyes, his face feigning pity so blatantly it was obvious.
"Poor Athena," He said. "The only thing you surpass me in is my weakest area—martial skill."
"With my many Authorities, just one could crush you effortlessly."
He raised a finger.
"A weakling like you isn't even fit to be a side dish, let alone the main course at a banquet."
"You—" Athena nearly exploded, veins bulging on the hand gripping her scythe.
If she could, she'd likely drag him down with her in mutual destruction.
"While I wouldn't mind letting you restore your trinity form for some fun," Lucius said, spreading his hands helplessly, "my schedule's packed."
My strength's still lacking, he admitted inwardly.
If he were strong enough, he wouldn't need such verbal maneuvering.
He could easily overpower an incomplete Athena.
But if she regained her trinity form, without opening the bottle, he'd have to consider retreating.
"Once I've finished my current amusements, I might return the Gorgon Stone and witness the so-called queen of gods in her trinity form," He said.
His figure vanished before Athena, leaving only words behind.
"Stay here and don't move. Wait for me to bring the Gorgon Stone back."
"That jerk," Athena muttered, her face dark as she stowed her scythe.
"If you want me to stay, fine. I'll humor you."
"She's still obediently in place," Lucius noted, stepping off a private plane from Rome to Sardinia, sensing Athena's position through her divine power.
Though he'd planned to enrage her into acting as he wanted, he couldn't be certain it would work—especially against a wisdom goddess.
So, he'd taken precautions.
When Athena used her shedding ability to escape, Lucius secretly absorbed traces of divine power from her husk.
Though negligible in strength, it let him track her.
Feeling her power still in Rome, unmoving, he relaxed.
But he'd keep monitoring the vengeful goddess to avoid surprises.
"Your Majesty, we've prepared a residence. Please follow me," Liliana said, snapping out of her daze as she realized the plane had landed.
Blushing inexplicably, she guiltily closed her notebook, stuffing it into her bag like a thief caught in the act.
She grabbed the luggage, stepping off the plane with a forced stern expression.
"Hm," Lucius nodded, glancing at her bag. "No need to be ashamed of your hobbies. If something brings you genuine joy, that's not a bad thing."
His face remained expressionless.
"Huh?" The rigid knight froze, then—
Her composure shattered.
Why could he so casually expose her hidden passion and comment on it?
"Come on, don't just stand there," Lucius said, walking forward impassively. "You don't have much time to waste."
He quietly sensed the divine fluctuations on the island.
One divine aura was unconcealed, another growing stronger.
It seemed Verethragna, seeking a worthy foe to fulfill his desire for defeat, was summoning Melqart, the Mediterranean god-king.
"After all, I foresee a great battle erupting here soon," Lucius said, glancing back at her casually. "If you don't hurry and contact the local mage associations to evacuate people, your overzealous sense of duty will leave you alone with regret's bitter taste."
"You're warning people and caring about them?" Mozlis remarked, her tone curious. "Are you leaning toward being a benevolent protector of the masses?"
"Don't misunderstand," Lucius replied calmly. "I just despise pointless sacrifice."
"I'd allow them to die as offerings, but to perish in battle's aftermath—such a meaningless death is intolerable."
He rejected the lofty stance of Heretic Gods.
Likewise, he didn't align with the Devil Kings' mindset.
"That way of thinking—so human, so mortal. It's intriguing. I don't dislike it," Mozlis said.
Lucius chuckled, about to respond, when his brow furrowed.
A sensation of being watched rose within him.
Not a Heretic God, nor a Campione.
His expression turned cold. "Quite bold. Or is my infamy lacking?"
"You're watching me, aren't you, witch?"
***
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