"Since I have already come before you, then you should know what you are about to face next."
Beside the goddess, the deathly aura of the endless underworld howled as a pitch-black storm. Violet divine power burned around her body like the purple flames of the netherworld.
"Judging by bloodline, we could barely be considered former kin. As the last descendants of dragons and serpents, yet you consort with the Steel that slaughtered them. Is the charm of that Last King truly so overwhelming that even a being like you would devote yourself to him so utterly?"
"Goddess Athena, please allow me to report this to you. You are entirely mistaken. Since the age of myth, we daughters of the earth have been fated to serve the heroes of Steel. Though at times we take the form of dragons and serpents and clash with them, that is no more than a fleeting dream."
Before a true goddess, whether she was called Divine Ancestor Guinevere or Witch Queen, she was ultimately nothing more than a minor figure.
Yet at this moment, Guinevere resolutely lifted her chest and reported to Athena, as though defending her own faith—though the words she spoke inadvertently diminished her own standing.
"On that point, surely even you, Goddess Athena, understand. In Greece, you too have myths in which you served the great god Zeus as his beloved daughter. If you believe this statement to be erroneous, please correct me."
"Tch—shall I take that as provocation?" Metis narrowed her eyes and stared at Guinevere without mercy.
"If that is how you wish to interpret it."
"...Interesting. Though crooked, you have struck the mark!"
Although the system was not the true Athena, and even though she had obtained Athena's memories and authorities through the godhead, she could not personally experience what it meant to serve someone as a beloved daughter. Yet the relationship between the system and Satsuki carried a similar hierarchical undertone.
In essence, Satsuki viewed the system the way an ordinary person regarded a tool in their hand. There was no equality of personality in such a relationship. The reason neither side had found it inappropriate all this time was precisely because they had never been equal to begin with.
From Divine Ancestor Guinevere's words, the relationship between the daughters of the earth and the heroes of Steel was likewise inherently unequal. She felt no resistance toward her own lowly position. On the contrary, it was Athena's initial question that seemed strange.
In this world, due to differences among individuals and species, disparities would always exist between living beings. In nature, each species occupied a different level of the food chain, collectively maintaining the order of a vast system. There had never been any true equality within it.
This was an irrefutable fact and part of the natural way.
After nodding with a lofty air, Athena shifted her gaze toward the white blade immersed at the center of the lake, like a sword embedded in a mirror. Runes of the Akashic Records flickered within her eyes. Combined with part of the authority of the Goddess of Wisdom, she quickly discerned the sword's true nature.
"So this is the so-called Sword of Salvation of the Last King. Reshaped using the divine power of the Ama-no-Sakahoko—a reborn Sword in the Stone?"
Remarkable—Guinevere inwardly admired Athena's insight.
She had seen through the essence of the newborn divine blade at a single glance.
"However, judging from the finer details, it has already been infused with new divine power... Though I doubt such a divine artifact will last long, this remnant is still a trump card for you. To use it at such cost must mean... you have already confirmed the location of the Last King, have you not?"
Athena's eyes instantly transformed into vertical reptilian pupils—the strongest ability of the Gorgon—Gorgon's Eyes.
"As expected of the Goddess of Wisdom. You saw through it at once?"
Under the gaze of the goddess' evil eye—
Even though she too carried the blood of a serpent god, Guinevere's body stiffened completely. Before the goddess emanating the aura of death, her life and death were held in the other's grasp.
"Then where does the Last King lie in slumber?"
"In the... in the far East... in Japan..."
The petrification made her muscles rigid. Even breathing became difficult. She could only gasp for air while answering in a low voice.
Though she was called a Divine Ancestor and, in terms of magical attainment, had already surpassed the vast majority of ordinary magi in the world, when facing beings beyond the standard—whether Godslayers or Heretic Gods—she remained utterly incapable of resistance.
Thus, all her will to survive condensed into fervent prayer.
Come quickly and save me, Uncle! Lancelot du Lac!
Upon hearing news of the Last King, the system Metis was slightly surprised.
"I did not expect that the final opponent of this divine arena would be hidden on the same island where the host descended. Yet according to Athena's godhead memories, when she visited there some time ago, she sensed none of his presence... Was it concealed with exquisite skill? Was it the work of those in the Netherworld? In any case, now that I have obtained the information on the Last King, my remaining task is simply to take this divine artifact back. The rest can be left to the host."
With her eyes still in serpent form, Metis fell into contemplation. Having obtained the Akashic Records and the godhead of the Goddess of Wisdom, the once laughably inadequate system had grown into something truly intelligent.
After making her decision, rhythmic waves of divine power surged outward, mingled with the icy death wind of the underworld. In an instant, all the vegetation along the lakeshore was dragged into a profound abyss of death.
"In consideration of the intelligence you provided, sever your connection to the Holy Grail of Sorcery and the Divine Sword, and offer them up with both hands. I may consider sparing your life."
Such blatant robbery turned Guinevere's face deathly pale. The goddess' frigid words sent chills down her spine.
Even so, she did not reveal weakness. Forcing herself upright, she spoke firmly.
"If the goddess chooses to rely on superior strength to commit such a despicable act against a former kinswoman, Guinevere has nothing to say. But my answer is this: even if my soul returns to the stars, I will not yield a single step concerning that Lord. I will never allow you to prevent his resurrection!"
Hearing this, Metis spoke in a mocking tone.
"Do you think my purpose is to stop that man's revival?"
As she spoke, golden light began to radiate from her serpent eyes—foolish creature. You have no idea what kind of existence you are about to face. However, there is no need for further explanation. Since you refuse to hand over the divine artifact, I shall take it myself.
"Then farewell, descendant of the serpent."
Boom! Thunder crashed down from the heavens at the same instant as the declaration.
Dark clouds suddenly filled the sky, and a dazzling white lightning bolt descended—
No, it was not true lightning, but a knight!
A knight wreathed in white lightning, seated upon a white steed, clad in pure white armor. In his hand he held a barbed lance shaped like inverted thorns.
"White lightning and a noble steed—so this is the primal Steel the host once mentioned."
At the very instant the lightning descended, Metis burst forth with super-divine speed, evading the strike from above. Her feet did not even appear to move.
But the opponent's assault was clearly not limited to a single blow. Just before the barbed lance pierced the lake's surface, the descending knight twisted the spearhead with inconceivable skill. Without losing nearly any of its kinetic force, the lance pivoted at almost a perfect right angle and charged toward the direction Metis had retreated.
Yet such thunderous speed came without the slightest sound. The entire maneuver was as silent as a cat. This was a being who could perfectly control his own power.
Metis understood well that opponents capable of flawless self-mastery were the most troublesome.
They would never allow themselves to fall into disadvantage, and they would exploit any shift in battle to tilt the situation in their favor in a single instant. Metis even suspected he had long been lying in ambush above, waiting for that fleeting opening she had revealed.
"A troublesome one!"
There was no doubt that his combat skill had been honed to perfection.
The thrust about to pierce her allowed no avenue of escape. No matter which direction she chose to evade, she would be struck. The more she fled, the stronger the momentum of his charge would grow, and the divine power infused into the holy lance would swell to an irresistible degree.
Therefore, she had to confront it head-on. In truth, she had never intended to evade in the first place.
Just as the white lightning lance was about to impale the goddess, a starless night suddenly unfolded behind her. From within it emerged the tail of a petrified colossal serpent, lashing forward in an attempt to entangle the white knight's holy lance.
"..."
The white knight showed no concern. His charge was unstoppable. Even a triune goddess could not hope to delay it with a mere familiar.
A howling gale spiraled outward the instant the barbed spearhead touched the serpent's body. Before the shaft even made contact, the serpent familiar was torn apart by the pressure of the lance's wind alone, split into scattered fragments.
Yet at the very moment its body shattered, countless eyes suddenly opened within the ruptured flesh.
The instant those innumerable eyes appeared, they all fixed upon the white knight as he pierced through the serpent's remains—and unleashed powerful petrifying beams.
Even the white knight could not ignore petrification of this degree. With a sharp tug on the reins, the white horse beneath him understood at once. Its hooves lightly tapped the water's surface as man and steed leapt high into the air, evading most of the white petrifying rays. Then, midair, they transformed into a streak of white lightning, tracing a half-circle arc and shaking off the remaining beams entirely.
However, such repeated instantaneous changes at super-divine speed drained the kinetic force of his charge. The slight advantage he had held at the outset was neutralized at once by Metis' cleverly arranged trap.
Amid thunder and the white steed, the God of War descended once more to the ground.
This time, the white knight did not charge again.
"As expected of the Goddess of War. Even in such a passive situation, you responded to my charge flawlessly."
"Uncle! I always believed you would come to save me!"
At Guinevere's delighted cry of gratitude, the white knight merely gave a faint nod.
Then he turned his gaze toward Athena and spoke.
"To launch a surprise attack against one's opponent is a base act forbidden by chivalry. Yet it was done to protect my beloved daughter. I humbly ask your forgiveness."
Metis lightly waved the scythe in her hand, retracting the countless eyes back into the endless night of the underworld.
"Battle is not a gentleman's game, but violence that determines life and death. Whatever methods or stratagems are used, only the one left standing may explain everything. Therefore, not only do I not despise you, I rather admire your action just now. It caused me no small amount of trouble."
As she spoke, a smile capable of bewitching even gods blossomed upon her exquisite face.
Athena—Metis—was the goddess of wisdom and battle, and also the goddess of earth, darkness, and sky.
Perhaps because she had absorbed the Steel characteristic of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the aspect of her nature as a war god had grown markedly stronger. The blazing netherfire burning around her, combined with that confident and dignified smile—and the blood scattered from the massive serpent's body—made her resemble a black rose blooming upon a field of carnage, eerily beautiful.
It almost compelled the white knight to praise her as beautiful.
However, like Satsuki, the system had no fondness for prolonged pleasantries.
In the next instant, a long scythe materialized in her right hand, styled like that of a reaper. Its blade was pitch black—the weapon most suited for the Queen of the Underworld who ruled darkness and earth. Faint runes of the netherworld flickered along its edge. These runes bore a multitude of effects: Supreme Flowing Slash, Curse Nullification, Super-Divine Speed Reflection, Perfect Decapitation... and countless other combat specialties. Around the vast blade coiled authority-laden incantations of Instant Death, Petrification, Blindness, and Future Dominion.
"Then let us fight freely and without restraint, Lancelot du Lac!"
"I am deeply honored. Before the challenge of the Goddess of War, I shall offer my utmost respect."
Lancelot spoke courteously from atop his horse.
"...But God of War, will you not wield that divine weapon? In my discerning sight, your true state is evident at a glance."
"Goddess of Wisdom, do you not wish to make use of such an advantage?"
Before them, Lancelot had not yet fully revived. Or rather, he stood only a single step away from descending as a Heretic God.
The divine power of the white sacred sword still resonated with the earth, its blade adjusting to harmonize with Lancelot's authorities. This required time, which was why he had not drawn the divine sword at once.
It was not unwillingness—but impossibility.
Yet in this regard, Metis, perhaps influenced by Satsuki, likewise longed to face a formidable opponent in perfect condition.
"I am the Goddess of War and Wisdom, and the sovereign of the endless underworld. If I must exploit a god's vulnerability to defeat a mere junior, where would my dignity remain!?"
Lancelot fell silent...
Then he clenched one fist and struck it against his chest. Bang! Bang! Bang! The metallic impact rang out.
It was the highest respect he could offer an opponent—a declaration that this would be a battle of honor. At the same time, it meant he would fight with his full strength.
"O divine blade that once split the earth, pierced the heavens, and felled the stars—your rightful destination now lies in the hands of the Knight of the Lake. Once more, sound the horn upon the battlefield with me!"
Lancelot reached from horseback toward the white blade embedded within the lake.
The newly reborn broken Steel divine sword, awakened by Guinevere, flew toward Lancelot's hand in a new form.
"Great Mother of Earth, please lend Uncle your aid!"
Guinevere immediately invoked her sorcery.
Drawing upon the bloodline of a Divine Ancestor, she summoned a trace of the golden substance the Earth Mother could control—the existence known as the Planetary Surface—and layered it over the blade. At the same time, a length of oak wood grew from Lancelot's grasp. The three combined together, transforming into a radiant and resplendent Holy Spear.
Within Metis' mind, the Akashic Records roared violently for the first time. This signified that some colossal, world-level inscription was whirling through her sight at tremendous speed.
The source of this phenomenon was the holy spear now taking shape.
"The spear that shines at the end—Rhongomyniad?!"
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