Cough, cough.
Lucius coughed twice, rising from the rubble.
The sudden attack would've split him in two if he hadn't blocked with the sealed bottle at the last moment.
Leaning on a shattered wall, he looked up.
Above the temple, a fully armored warrior over two meters tall stood in the sky.
Golden, tousled hair and a rugged beard made him resemble a majestic lion.
His blazing golden eyes locked onto Lucius, radiating pride, fury, and… caution.
A vivid red cape flowed behind him, paired with Roman armor blending elegance and violence, glinting with cold metallic sheen.
His exposed legs bulged with muscle, exuding immense strength.
Well, I'm screwed.
Noticing Lucius's gaze, Mars's expression darkened, perhaps recalling how Lucius had beheaded his possessed form.
He'd barely dealt with the possessed state, only for a Heretic God to fully manifest.
Seriously, can't you play fair?
"That sword strike earlier—what was it?" Mars asked, his voice grim and wary.
Lucius stayed silent.
He wasn't naive enough to think a Heretic God was foolish or ignorant of human psychology.
Anything he said or did might reveal something. Better to stay expressionless, silent, and figure out his next move.
Seeing no response, Mars didn't press.
A helmet appeared on his head.
It was a fortified design, encasing his head and neck, leaving only slits for his eyes.
A glowing divine shield materialized in his hand.
Damn it!
Lucius's composure cracked.
You're that strong and still playing it safe?
Have you no shame?
"Evil wolf, today I'll ensure you have no grave," Heretic Mars declared, his voice thundering like a storm.
Lucius finally understood what it meant that this world's Campiones were preordained.
Mars hadn't even acted, yet his mere presence made breathing difficult.
This, despite Lucius's multiple enhancements from absorbing divine artifacts and Mars's possessed body.
The gap in status between humans and Heretic Gods was vast.
Even a Great Knight would feel their heart strain against a hostile Heretic God.
This pressure was not just mental but physical.
No matter their will, a human's frail physiology set their limits.
Their fragile hearts would falter or shatter in the face of a Heretic God's enmity.
Slaying a god wasn't something mere luck could explain.
"Mars—" Lucius pushed aside stray thoughts, conjuring another light sword, his gaze resolute.
"If I cut your head off once, I can do it again!"
"Hmph! A vile wolf relying on petty tricks and underhanded schemes!" Mars roared, enraged. "This time, I'll hang your head on my war banner!"
Magic surged within Lucius.
Having absorbed the temple's power and Mars's possessed body, his magic was at its peak—likely the highest for a non-Campione facing a Heretic God.
Gripping his sword, his eyes burned with unyielding resolve.
Then, he glanced at Mars, hovering in the sky, refusing to approach.
Maybe… there's one more chance.
Lucius thought.
His magic was at its zenith, and his causality-linking ability, bolstered by absorbing Mars's possessed form, seemed restored for one more use.
But only once.
So, this one chance—
Lucius locked onto Mars's every move, noting the gaps in his armor, his muscles tensing.
His legs coiled with power.
His worldview connected with the world.
The cause was set—
No need for the process.
Straight to the "effect"!
Lucius's figure vanished from the spot.
The next moment, he reappeared—outside the temple!
Of the thirty-six strategies, escape is the best!
He'd studied Mars's armor and shield, finding his defenses impenetrable.
Though his shared divine energy could pierce Mars's aura, the armor and shield were another matter!
Even if he could use his causality ability ten more times, he could only hope to sever an unarmored leg—not enough to kill Mars!
That would surely mean his death!
So, fleeing was his only shot!
As his figure appeared, he bolted toward where he'd come from.
Liliana had confronted him there, so Italy's mystical forces were likely gathered nearby.
If he reached them, if they could stall Mars for just a few seconds, he might escape his sight, alter his aura, and slip away from this unfair Heretic God's pursuit!
He was no hero, unbound by duty.
His only concern was himself.
But—
"Cunning wolf!" The Roman war god bellowed. "You cannot escape! You will not escape!"
Mars raised his hands, a red spear glowing with divine energy forming between them.
Its design was clearly meant for—
"Shooting you down!"
The red spear was hurled, streaking like a crimson-gold meteor, closing the distance and slamming Lucius into a nearby wall.
"No chance at all…"
Lucius pulled the bottle from his crushed chest.
Without it, his body would've been torn apart.
"There's no hope."
He gave a bitter smile, blood trickling from his half-closed right eye.
Lowering his head, the blood dripped onto the bottle.
"I don't trust you one bit."
"So, to avoid a scenario where I can't even say this after opening the bottle, I'll say it now—"
"Congratulations, you're free."
***
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