Within the Pope's Chamber, Setsuna slowly raised his right hand. Dark purple demonic energy coiled around his fingertips.
All the Gold Saints stood ready, raising their Cosmos to the limit, constructing a golden barrier within the chamber.
"Genro Maoken!"
Purplish-black light pierced into the space between Aspros's eyebrows.
The Gemini Gold Saint instantly let out a heart-wrenching roar, clutching his head as he collapsed to his knees.
Simultaneously, in the Eighth Prison of the Underworld, Yoma suddenly froze. The pocket watch in his hand spun madly backwards. Time-force flowed upstream along the causal line. "A mere mortal dares try to erase a god's mark?"
His will arrived within Aspros's body. Sensing the external commotion, he twitched at the corner of his mouth.
"It's that mortal again!" Yoma's face darkened slightly.
Two and a half years ago, it was this mortal named Chiaki Setsuna who prevented him from killing Shion.
"Hmph, let you witness a god's majesty!" Yoma's Specter Cloth emitted a dark blue glow.
Though limited by his mortal body and unable to use divine power, the Heavenly Leader Star's power still surged through the dark droplet within Aspros, fiercely counterattacking.
Two wills engaged in intense conflict within Aspros's spiritual world.
"Ugh…" Setsuna grunted, a trickle of blood spilling from his mouth.
His newly learned demonic fist indeed struggled against the mark left by a god… unless the other actively counterattacked into his spiritual world.
"Everyone, transfer your power to Setsuna!" Sisyphus quickly said.
Aside from the missing Leo Cloth, eleven Gold Cloths simultaneously burst with dazzling light.
A magnificent Cosmos converged into a golden torrent, continuously flowing into Setsuna's body.
Sisyphus's golden arrow even transformed into a stream of light, directly piercing into Aspros's chest.
"Ahhhhhh!"
Accompanied by Yoma's distant scream, that droplet of darkness accumulated over years finally melted away like spring snow.
Aspros opened his eyes in bewilderment. Clear tears streaked down his cheeks.
Memories of the past surged like a tide. Those fragments twisted by darkness now became painfully clear.
"I actually…" He trembled, looking at his hands. "…did so many wrong things!"
Aspros raised his hand to end his own life but was stopped by Sage using Sekishiki.
"Want to atone?" Sage's voice was aged and heavy. "Then use this life in the Holy War. Sanctuary now needs every Gold Saint's power."
Aspros was silent for a moment, then looked at Setsuna. "Thank you for making me sane!"
Setsuna shook his head slightly. "It's what should be done."
Aspros then looked at Defteros. "Since the Gemini Cloth chose you, from now on, you are the Gemini Saint."
Defteros hurriedly said, "Brother, I'm not—"
Aspros interrupted. "You are the true 'light'. Let me become the shadow guarding behind you."
…
In the 18th century, traveling from Greece to the Americas was undoubtedly a long journey.
But for Saints who had comprehended the Seventh Sense, the vast Atlantic was but a single step away.
With the situation urgent, the three naturally had no time to leisurely take a ship.
In the blink of an eye, the three descended upon the American continent's coastline.
What greeted them wasn't the fresh scent of sea breeze but a heavy smell of gunpowder and blood.
Looking out, the vast plains were littered with corpses.
Occasional sporadic gunshots sounded in the distance, declaring this war wasn't yet fully over.
"This is the American continent?" Hasgard stepped over a broken flintlock musket, frowning.
Setsuna gently blew away the dust in the air. "Back in Europe, I heard Britain and France were at war on their American colonies. They call it King George's War."
"Have the Specters already spread death to this continent?" Sisyphus's gaze was grave.
"Perhaps." Setsuna nodded.
In other worlds, perhaps wars were merely mortal desires. But in this universe, most wars were manifestations of divine will.
Especially the Specters… death was their best offering.
After speaking, Setsuna knelt on one knee, pressing his palm against the scorched earth.
Dark blue Sekishiki spread out like ripples. Countless translucent spirits rose from the piles of corpses, flickering in the twilight.
The whispers of the spirits interwove in the air, forming an intangible web of information.
Setsuna's pupils contracted slightly, capturing the crucial clues within.
"Found it." He stood up, pointing north. "Some spirits, while alive, saw a youth carrying a Cloth box in a village over there."
In the dimension of death, over a dozen Specters watched the three's every move.
One of them asked quietly, "Radamanthys-sama, should we retreat? Besides Chiaki Setsuna, Sanctuary also sent Taurus and Sagittarius…"
"Retreat?" Celestial Fierce Star Radamanthys sneered. His Specter Cloth's scales gleamed coldly under the dim light. "Just two Gold Saints. What's there to fear?"
A flicker of playfulness passed through his eyes. He slowly raised his hand. "Moreover, haven't we prepared a 'surprise' for them?"
"Hmph, I don't care about your arrangements." Celestial Violence Star Bennu Kagaho's arms were crossed. Burning wings fluttered gently behind him. The scorching aura twisted the surrounding air. "But Chiaki Setsuna must be dealt with by me."
Radamanthys wasn't angered by his rudeness. He always respected strength, and Kagaho's strength wasn't inferior to the Three Judges. "Oh? You seem quite fixated."
Hugue sneered. "Bennu Bird versus Phoenix… which flame is superior? I want to witness it personally."
…
The sunset's afterglow spilled over the ruins. The charred remains of burned houses still emitted wisps of smoke.
On the village's dirt road, villagers' bodies lay strewn haphazardly… women, elderly, children, none spared.
The smell of blood permeated the air, even the wind felt heavy.
And amidst the corpses, a blond youth stood as if soul-stricken.
He couldn't comprehend it. He just went out for a while… how did everyone get killed?
Beside him, the Leo Gold Cloth gleamed with dazzling light.
Two armies stood on either side of the village.
"What perfect art…" The British Brigadier licked his lips, his greedy gaze sweeping over every inch of the Cloth's patterns. "Without a doubt, this is our kingdom's lost treasure!"
The French officer sneered. "Who doesn't know Britain's style? Claiming others' treasures as your own. Speaking of art, Europe's art center is undoubtedly France. This gem can only belong to us."
"Hmph, what do you know of art?" The British Brigadier snorted coldly. "In Europe, who doesn't know we are the true protectors of cultural relics?"
"Protect?" The French officer laughed mockingly. "How many things in your museums weren't stolen?"