After running back from the Netherworld marathon, Mydei opened his eyes once more within the deep crater.
In the crater, that charred,indistinct object twitched eerily!
Immediately after, viscous, impenetrable dark red light, reeking of sulfur and blood, surged out from within the "object" like thick magma!
Shattered bones grated with a teeth-setting *creak*, forcibly piecing themselves back together and resetting at a visible pace!
Charred skin and flesh sloughed off and regenerated as if boiling! Potent life force erupted like a volcano!
In merely a few breaths!
A completely intact Mydei, his skin even restored to a bronze hue, muscles perfectly defined, shot up from the pit's bottom with a thoroughly bewildered expression!
He shook his head, his crimson golden eyes filled with unbelievable absurdity and rage. He instinctively touched his robust chest—the sensation of being utterly crushed moments ago felt all too real!
Mydei: Ugh— Why does my spine feel so cold? Didn't I successfully revive?
Phaethon, who had been watching the crater closely, let out a long sigh of relief upon seeing this:
"Phew... The Immortal Body... is still broken. Mydei really is fine." A look of relief appeared on his face.
But the next moment!
"Hmm... In that case, let's do it again!"
*BZZZZ—KABOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!*
The exact same, terrifying sound that made one's heart stop, exploded mercilessly less than five meters from the newly-risen Mydei!
A second stone pillar of identical size, equally mass, and carrying the same destructive kinetic energy materialized out of thin air.
With the force of a thunderbolt, it slammed mercilessly into Mydei—who was still in a post-revival daze, without even time to reconstitute his protective energy!
Phaethon: I even put some effort into it... how are you still alive?
...
When Phainon rushed out of the city gate anxiously, leading a team of elites like a whirlwind, the sight that met him and all the soldiers petrified them, plunging them into a deathly silence.
The fierce battlefield he had anticipated was nowhere to be seen.
There was no earth-shaking war cry, no clashing of steel.
Only a deathly silence, like a post-apocalyptic wasteland repeatedly ravaged by natural disasters and the panicked Kremnoan Detachment, huddled behind a small hill a kilometer away as if they'd seen ghosts, their formation in complete disarray...
Before them, a scorched earth, scarred by massive ravines, terrifying craters, traces of melting, and scattered fragments of rock…
Wait!
Phainon's sharp gaze instantly lock onto the center of the battlefield, at the edge of the largest scorched earth that still emitted wisps of smoke.
There... something lay quietly.
But it was... a body covered in ash which was glaringly conspicuous against the scorched earth.
...
Phaethon looked at the pale Mydei before him. A rare hint of embarrassment flickered across his usually somewhat playful face.
*(Phaethon: Ahem, seems I might have overdone it a bit. Good thing Phainon came early, otherwise I almost wanted to try the metal rods.)*
He cleared his throat dryly, his voice a bit tight:
"Ahem, ahem... Mydei, about that... I really didn't mean to go that hard."
As he spoke, he tried to brush off the thick layer of ash from Mydei's shoulders and hair.
"You know how it is, I just didn't want to hurt the ordinary soldiers, right? Just got a little carried away with the fun... I mean, with the force, got carried away with the force..."
He paused, his eyes darting slightly as if weighing his words.
Then Phainon leaned in closer, lowering his voice to offer a few words in his own defense:
"And... don't look at those moves I just pulled and think I can really whatever I want around here. I'll be straight with you," he swallowed, his voice dropping even lower. "Lurking inside this holy city... is a thousand-year-old monst—"
Before he could finish, a bone-chilling, soul-deep coldness shot up his spine without warning to the crown of his head!
The terrifying sensation of being restrained and dominated by Cipher using Aglaea's power that night came flooding back like a tide.
Phaethon's face drained of color. He immediately changed his words almost instinctively: "...a... stunningly beautiful lady of unfathomable power! Yes, stunningly beautiful! The kind that topples cities and kingdoms!"
He emphasized the last words forcefully.
"Alright now, little Snowy." A voice, tinged with helplessness yet full of tolerance, rang out at the right moment. (TSL: Tribbie nickname for Phainon is Snowy so for Phaethon is little Snowy as he is the younger brother.)
Tribbie and Trinnon had already gracefully landed beside them at some point.
She tilted her head, her pure, large eyes looking at the disheveled Mydei, then turned to Phaethon. She sighed like a little adult, extending a chubby little finger to point at Mydei. "We think you were too impulsive this time. Look, you've beaten Dei into such a state. Covered in dust, so pitiful."
As soon as Tribbie's voice fell, another nearly identical, tiny voice echoed softly like her reflection.
Trinnon also spoke, her voice as soft as a feather brushing the heart:
"Dei, we... want to have a proper talk with you..."
The gazes of the two little ones focused simultaneously on Mydei. That peculiar sense of unity in "we", and the meaning in their words that far exceeded their apparent age, made Mydei, who had just experienced a "great battle", feel another chill in his heart.
"Since I lost the duel, I will naturally abide by the promise made before it. The Kremnoan Detachment will negotiate properly with Okhema," Mydei said.
"By the way, how should I address you... um... both of you?" Mydei turned his gaze to Phainon and Phaethon.
...
Deep within the Sanctuary of Fate, massive stone pillars supported a towering dome that soared into the clouds, carved with epics and reliefs long forgotten by the world.
Mydei stood on one side of the empty hall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his bronze muscles as solid as sculpture in the did light. His sharp gaze pierced the shadows within the hall, fixed on the small figure ahead.
"Lady Tribbie," his voice was deep, stirring slight echoes in the vast hall,
"Are you saying that as long as I compete against this... 'Deliverer' under your witness, you can ensure my people are no longer treated as inferior and receive their rightful due?"
He paused, his brow furrowed. "But why must it be here, in Janusopolis?"
Trinnon's voice carried compassion beyond her years: "Fighting and killing... are not good. Agy and we... do not wish to see the Chrysos Heirs harm each other again in strife."
*(Phaethon: Yes, yes, exactly. But I'm not a Chrysos Heir. ㄟ( ▔, ▔ )ㄏ )*
"A true warrior lies not only in knowing how to wield the blade, but also in knowing when to sheathe it.
The just Talanton (Titan of Law) will preside over this sacred contest here and decide the final outcome."