Boom!
Mars, the war god who moments ago had been brimming with arrogance, was sent hurtling backward without resistance. He crashed heavily into his own temple, reducing the already crumbling structure to a pile of ruins.
"Who's there?!" Mars roared, a mix of shock and fury in his voice as he scrambled to his feet, turning toward the spot he had just been standing.
There, where Lucius had fallen, stood a petite figure.
Her long, flowing white hair cascaded over her shoulders, adorned with two small black horns sprouting from her head. Her dark golden vertical pupils gleamed, set in a delicate, pale face with refined features.
Her childlike frame would surely make certain enthusiasts with peculiar tastes exclaim in delight.
But the moment Mars' gaze fell upon her, it was as though he had encountered a terrifying beast.
"That's—" Mars squinted, and cold sweat began to trickle down his face.
In his eyes, the small, adorable girl transformed into a colossal, fearsome demon.
"Typhon?"
The war god let out a startled cry.
Roman mythology and Greek mythology shared many similarities.
In Greek mythology, Typhon was a demon of immense power.
When Typhon wreaked havoc, the gods were so terrified that they transformed into various animals to hide and flee. Hera became a white cow, Apollo an eagle, Hermes an ibis, Ares a fish, Artemis a cat, Dionysus a goat, Heracles a fawn, Hephaestus a bull, and others took on their own forms.
And in Greek mythology, Ares was the origin of Mars in Roman mythology.
Now, suddenly faced with the demon who had once sent him fleeing in disgrace, Mars was struck with mortal dread.
"No, no! You're not!" Mars quickly rejected his own assumption.
If it truly were Typhon, she would either appear as a Heretic God like himself or in a possessed state. The latter would pose no threat to him.
But she clearly wasn't in a Heretic state, yet the high-level menace emanating from her was undeniably real.
Moreover, he seemed to see other shadows within her petite form.
The dragon Azhi Dahaka from Zoroastrianism, the evil god Angra Mainyu.
The Beast of 666 from the Biblical system, and the lord of Hell, Azazel.
And beyond that, there were more—beasts and evil gods that seemed to have never appeared in any mythology.
"Heh—" The loli demon who had emerged from the bottle trembled slightly at the shoulders, her lips twitching.
"I'm out. I'm free from the seal."
"Hehehehe, hahahaha—"
The demon, now freed from her confinement, could no longer contain her ecstatic laughter.
"Finally, finally, finally—"
"How long has it been? How much time has passed?"
The loli demon clenched her fists tightly, gritting her teeth, her words tangled in a logic even she couldn't unravel.
"Since when? When did it all begin?"
"The separation of good and evil? The establishment of order? From the moment I gained sentience?"
Tears of overwhelming joy streamed down her face.
"Ugh, ugh—" She bit her lip tightly, but the tears flowed uncontrollably.
Finally, she gave up trying to suppress them.
"I'm finally out—finally, finally, finally—"
As if to express her joy, immense divine power radiated from her, dyeing the entire sky a deep black.
"Free, free, free—"
"Hahahahaha—"
"One hundred years, two hundred years, three hundred years—"
"And how much longer after that? A thousand years, two thousand, three thousand..."
No one could comprehend her longing for freedom.
That lightless, suffocating seal—she couldn't bear to stay in it a moment longer.
"Now that I'm free, I'll go—"
"I'll—"
Her voice faltered.
The freedom she had dreamed of was now hers.
But where to go? What to do? She suddenly felt lost.
She wasn't Typhon. If she were, she could storm back to her original world's Mount Olympus.
She wasn't Azhi Dahaka. If she were, she could continue her battle with her fated enemy.
...
She wasn't the Beast of 666, nor was she Azazel.
No mythology held her shadow.
Her only memories were of the endless years spent in the seal.
Good and evil are equal.
Evil cannot be eradicated, for good exists.
Evil cannot be forgotten, for good exists.
Good and evil are the two ends of a balance.
If one end disappears, the other will topple.
Yet, in mythology, good triumphed over evil.
To keep good and evil equal, evil had to be corrected.
Thus, a certain existence was born as the antithesis to the myriad forms of good across the multiverse, only to be locked away in a cage called order.
From that moment, outside the cage, everything representing evil was erased.
Because, in every world, in every mythology, evil was no longer needed.
Evil wasn't destroyed—it was merely sealed in the prison of order.
"No, there's plenty I can do—"
She declared.
"Hehe, hahaha—smash the heavens to pieces."
"Storm Mount Olympus."
"Tear that guy from the Cross apart."
She grinned, baring her fangs, her dark golden vertical pupils burning with fire, a dangerous smile spreading across her face.
...
In mythology, there are countless manifestations of good.
But evil? There is only one.
So, no matter who she faced in mythology, she would never lose.
Because she was the sum of all evil in mythology, she could never be defeated by a mere fraction of good.
But—
"Even so, in the end, I'll be the one to lose—"
Because, while good and evil are equal in measure.
There is still something called order.
Order chose good.
Perhaps, after enjoying her freedom, she would be defeated once more and sealed back into the bottle of order.
With a twisted smile, she took a step forward.
Then, she froze slightly, her gaze falling to something at her feet.
It was a bottle.
The bottle formed by order, which had sealed her for countless years.
She should crush it.
She bent down to pick up the bottle, idly contemplating.
But as she began to tighten her grip, something caught her eye.
There were faint traces of blood on the rim of the sealed bottle.
She tilted her head, as if pondering something.
Then, almost on a whim, she raised the bottle to her face, bringing it close to her lips.
Her tongue extended, gently, meticulously licking away the bloodstains with care.
***
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