— — — — — —
Mars, Greek Frontline— At a mountain modeled after Olympus, barely a kilometer high—
This mountain had once been one of Greece's old strongholds on Mars. Back then, the King of Greek Gods, Zeus, had commanded his armies here and waged war against rival pantheons.
And now, with the outbreak of war against the Grand Arcadia Alliance, it had naturally been brought back into service.
From the skies above Mars, the man-made Olympus looked like a fortress of iron and stone. More than a dozen pitch-black war bastions stretched from the summit all the way down to the foothills, sealing off every major route in and out.
These bastions, built entirely from some unknown black stone, had been transported directly from Greece's reserve stockpiles before the war began through massive spatial-transfer gifts, dropped straight onto Olympus. Using them as anchors, the Greeks erected blazing crimson barrier formations around the mountain.
Under the protection of those barriers, gravity, spatial density, and elemental pressure on Olympus had all been pushed to terrifying extremes.
Eite four-digit enemies couldn't fly in conditions like this. Only those at the legendary tier could barely manage aerial combat.
And alongside the fortresses came enough supplies to sustain two full years of high-intensity warfare.
Compared to the Arcadia Alliance, which could only rely on canyon caverns and the ruins left behind from previous divine wars to cobble together defensive positions, Greece's overwhelming wealth and resources stood out all the more.
...
At that moment, inside the summit fortress, beneath the glow of crystal chandeliers hanging from the domed ceiling, several figures sat around a long yellow rosewood table.
"Want some whiskey to wake yourself up, Amphion?"
The speaker was Zethus, a towering man in a white tank top, broad-shouldered and thickly muscled.
Compared to him, his younger brother Amphion looked refined and almost scholarly, his handsome blond features carrying a helpless smile as he replied, "Zethus... drinking on the battlefield is a bit much, don't you think?"
"It's not divine wine. I'm not getting drunk." Zethus chopped the cap off the bottle with his hand, then tipped it back and gulped it down.
After a long swig, he glanced up, "Is big sis Eunomia still staring at that map?"
Across the table sat a girl with shoulder-length black hair curled inward at the ends and sharp red eyes. She held the map in both hands, studying it with complete focus, like she hadn't heard a word.
When she didn't answer, Zethus clicked his tongue. "What's the point of being so serious? Zeus only told us to stall them. Keep the Arcadia Alliance tied up here on Mars so they can't profit from the Godslayer War. That's enough. Why bother overthinking it?"
"Zethus." Amphion snapped at him sharply.
Zethus snorted and went back to drinking.
Amphion turned toward Eunomia instead. "Sister... is there something wrong with the map?"
"It's outdated." Eunomia said in a flat tone.
Amphion blinked. "Outdated? How is that possible?"
"...For the last Divine War, over six hundred years ago, the participants reshaped half the terrain. Apparently those idiots in intelligence never bothered updating it." She let out a cold laugh.
"Worthless."
She tossed the map onto the table and hopped down from her chair.
From Amphion's perspective, she wasn't even taller than the bench she'd been sitting on. In truth, Eunomia was only 148 centimeters tall.
Of course, Amphion would never be stupid enough to mention that to her face.
Hearing this, Zethus exploded. "The intelligence division gave us fake maps? We're already stuck here fighting those dirt-eaters because of that bastard Hermes, and now this?"
"Watch your mouth." Amphion shot him a warning. "The chief gods aren't people we can casually criticize."
But even as he said it, his expression darkened.
"If the maps are wrong, we'll have to send people out and redraw everything. Once the full war begins, bad terrain intel could become a serious disadvantage." He frowned. "I read the reports earlier. The Arcadia Alliance started surveying the terrain the moment they arrived. They've got plenty of capable strategists over there."
Mars had been specially modified as a battlefield for divine wars. The overwhelming power of gods and buddhas had been heavily restricted here.
At this level, combat between beings below four digits wasn't all that different from mortal warfare.
Which meant terrain mattered. A lot.
A flawed map wasn't just negligence. It could get their lower-tier forces easily killed. And for those below four digits, death was real. There was no coming back.
The so-called "gentleness" of divine war, the friendly exchange of merit, only applied to gods and buddhas at the four-digit level and above.
"That's not the only problem."
Eunomia walked over to a side table, picked up a slice of melon, and ate as she moved toward the window.
Looking down at the fortress below, she said quietly, "The one leading the Arcadia Alliance this time... is Ryo Yagami."
Zethus froze, bottle hanging halfway in the air.
Amphion's relatively calm face turned grim.
"The one who fought Father to a draw..." Amphion murmured, brows knitting tightly. "Then yeah... no amount of caution is too much."
After a pause, he asked, "But... Ryo is a four-digit rule-breaker. And the rules of the Divine War shouldn't allow him to participate, right?"
Eunomia turned her head and looked at him. "Would you dare lead troops to attack a base with Ryo Yagami stationed there?"
Amphion laughed bitterly, "Even among the Twelve Main Gods, there aren't many who'd dare."
Ryo Yagami. That monster had gone head-to-head with Zeus himself.
Rumor said he specialized in poison too. Even Zeus had nearly lost half his life to it.
Facing someone like that, it didn't matter whether he was technically allowed to fight.
If the war turned bad and Ryo decided to use poison, every last Greek soldier on Mars might die.
That was exactly why Zeus hadn't ordered them to engage the Arcadia Alliance directly, much less try to win the war.
After all, without Ryo, the alliance was just a bunch of rookies who'd never fought a Divine War before. Greece could crush them easily.
But once the words "Ryo Yagami is present" entered the equation... even Ares, the most war-hungry of the Twelve, wouldn't dare claim certain victory.
After that battle in Greece, Ryo had carved his name deep into Little Garden.
And not as someone people admired. As someone they avoided.
So hearing Amphion's words, Eunomia gave a slight nod.
Hermes, Ares, even Zeus.
Three of the Twelve had all taken losses at Ryo's hands.
No one here could confidently say they could beat him. Even if he couldn't directly interfere.
Eunomia finally asked, "So tell me. What are the odds Ryo Yagami launches a surprise attack on us?"
"Huh?"
Amphion shot to his feet.
"No way..." Zethus's mouth dropped open, whiskey spilling onto the floor unnoticed.
Eunomia narrowed her eyes.
"You think it's impossible?" She sneered. "Don't forget. He's done it before."
"He infiltrated Olympus alone and ambushed our trash father. A man crazy enough to do that—you think he wouldn't dare attack us?"
"Remember, we can't predict someone like him with common sense. If you want to fight him, you have to think beyond what normal people would. That's why I suspected he might strike first before we even arrived."
Her gaze sharpened. "In fact, I'd bet he's already on his way."
"But even so," Amphion protested, "launching a direct assault during the preparation phase is too reckless. Sure, it might boost morale for the Arcadia Alliance early on, but in the long run? It's completely irrational."
"Exactly," Zethus said, lifting the last of his whiskey. "This kind of war isn't decided by one or two victories. If that guy really attacks now, it won't mean much."
Eunomia turned and stared straight at him, her eyes cold as blades. "You really think there's no chance?"
Zethus shrank back a little, but still gritted out, "Eunomia, I'll tell you this, if Ryo Yagami actually attacks us right now, you can chop my head off and use it as a ball. I, Zethus, guarantee—"
BOOM!
At this moment, a thunderous explosion tore across the sky.
Before any of the three could react, a powerful wave of soul-sense swept over them.
Zethus's eyes widened, "How is that possi—"
BOOM!
The fortress ceiling shattered apart, exploding into clouds of gray-black dust.
When the dust cleared, a hand rested on Zethus's shoulder.
Then came a man's calm greeting, "Good afternoon, Greece."
Eunomia's heart sank straight to the bottom.
.
.
.