— — — — — —
Thunder roared and lightning split the sky. The black dragon's furious howls lasted well into the night.
By the time the storm ended, the center of Rome—particularly the area belonging to the Papal States—had been completely leveled.
Politicians and magicians scrambled to contain the fallout, spinning the story every way they could.
In one frantic day, Italian tabloids were flooded with celebrity cheating scandals, messy divorces, surprise outings, and tragic suicides.
Then came the grand finale: a "meteor strike" on Rome, followed by tearful public apologies from government officials.
Somehow, they managed to keep the truth under wraps.
What truly saved the higher-ups, though, was the miraculous lack of casualties.
Most civilians were injured rather than killed, and despite the destruction of countless buildings, there had been no mass deaths—something that made the public easier to distract.
In peacetime, if someone had threatened to destroy the Papal State, these same leaders would have fought tooth and nail. But if you told them two Gods and a Campione fought over Rome and all they lost was the Papal State's real estate?
They would gladly hang up lanterns and throw a parade.
At least the country still existed.
...
In the ruins where the grand assembly hall once stood, a charred humanoid shape twitched.
The burned-black shell cracked and flaked away, revealing tufts of blue fur beneath.
Moments later, a towering, three-meter-tall werewolf stood amidst the rubble, muttering in a low, rumbling voice:
"Careless of me… fighting two gods really isn't something you can take lightly. I almost died."
Remembering the fight, Marquis Voban felt equal parts exhilarated and horrified.
Michael's Judgment and Crimson Crossblade, Melqart's storms and plagues—
One wrong move, and the world would have been rid of Voban entirely.
Fortunately, he had survived.
Feeling the weight pressing down on his back, Voban realized his body had successfully absorbed the divinity's power.
He lifted his massive wolf head and stared toward the ruins ahead.
"Still not planning to show yourself?"
A breeze swept across the rubble— And Ryo and Athena appeared before him.
At the sight of the two, Voban's body immediately shifted into combat readiness.
He glanced briefly at Athena in confusion, but dismissed the thought and fixed his emerald wolfish eyes on Ryo.
"I've heard of the birth of a new King," he said. "That would be you?"
"The one who slew the goddess Athena and made her your subordinate."
Voban's voice carried the weight of a senior's authority, but there was little malice in it.
"First time we've met. Sasha Dejansdal Voban," Ryo replied with a small, easy smile from atop the shattered ruins.
"How was the hunt? Satisfying enough?"
"Oh?" Voban's grin showed sharp fangs. "So that's how it is. You know, compared to that fool Salvatore, the cowardly Brit, and the lunatic from America… you're not bad at all. I'd even say you're the most virtuous new King we've had in years."
His tone was surprisingly approving.
Voban had sensed Ryo's aura more than an hour ago.
Unlike Salvatore Doni, however, Ryo hadn't rushed out to compete for prey—he'd simply waited, watching, never interfering.
That decision had baffled Voban at first, but it also raised his opinion of Ryo considerably.
Yes, he could imagine this brat might have been waiting to swoop in after everyone was half-dead and clean up the mess—but he hadn't done it.
For Voban, that was enough.
If nothing else, he owed the boy for "letting" him claim a god's power.
But with his power depleted and his body pushed to its limits, Voban had no desire to keep talking.
"Boy, I'll remember this favor. If we clash in the future, I'll spare you once."
Having said the words a senior was supposed to say, Voban's figure began to blur.
"If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave."
"Although I find your attitude a little ridiculous," Ryo said calmly, "since you mean well, I'll accept the sentiment."
Then he added casually: "One piece of advice, from a junior to a senior."
Voban didn't react, just waited.
Ryo's voice turned almost pitying. "Stay away from the Cross Church from now on."
"Oh?" Voban raised a brow and bared his teeth in a cruel grin.
"Ridiculous. I'd love for them to come after me!"
And with that, his body vanished into the crater.
Ryo shrugged, helplessly. "Let's hope he keeps that optimistic attitude."
"Good riddance," Athena said, shaking with suppressed laughter. "I was about to lose my composure."
She pressed a hand to her mouth, giggling.
"He actually called you a virtuous new King. That ancient god-slayer really does have a gift for comedy."
"I think Voban was absolutely right," Ryo said solemnly. "I really am a virtuous man, above base desires."
Athena turned her head away, clearly unwilling to look at his smug face.
"Before you spout nonsense like that, why don't you let Pandora release the two gods trapped in the Circle of Usurpation?"
"Because they're still useful, obviously." Ryo waved his hand casually, and Pandora appeared from the void.
The ancient Mother Earth had tears in her eyes as she whispered: "Why? Why are all my children so stupid? He didn't even realize the power was only temporarily housed in him…"
She thought back to Voban's proud expression when he left, tears welling again.
The fool didn't even know Ryo had stolen the gods' authorities right out from under him.
He'd been tricked, and he was thanking Ryo for it!
And that "virtuous new King" line—was he serious?
Still shaking with suppressed mirth, Pandora handed the golden disk to Ryo.
He glanced at her, then turned to look at Michael and Melqart, both sealed within the Circle of Usurpation.
His lips curled into a smile.
"The Cross's puzzle is complete. Using Melqart as the connection point, I've planted the spell in Voban's body. Everything is going according to plan."
Athena let out a small sigh—part pity, part admiration. "With this, even the gods of Little Garden won't be able to pin anything on you."
Voban, Melqart, Michael—three separate forces had destroyed the Papal State, shaking the Cross Church's faith to its core.
At most, the gods of Little Garden might find something suspicious about Melqart.
If they dug deeper, they'd trace it back to Pandora.
With extreme effort, they might even find traces of Athena.
And if a miracle occurred, they might uncover a saint disguised under Athena's divinity.
But that would be the end of the trail—there was no more mask to strip away.
No matter how far the investigation went, it could only end with Athena.
And what did Athena's crimes have to do with Ryo?
Meanwhile, Marquis Voban was out there carrying the blame. Ryo had set up the Cross Church so thoroughly, he could sleep soundly at night.
Even Athena couldn't help but remark: "Sometimes I think having an Athena in Little Garden really is a blessing."
As long as Little Garden had its own Athena, she—Metis—could rest easy. After all, all the clues pointed to an Athena, and she wasn't going to become a complete Trinity anytime soon.
So... If Athena committed crimes, what did that have to do with Metis?
And worst case, she could always put on the mask of Nut and go back to being a queen in Egypt.
In a way, Ryo had corrupted Athena completely.
"Where's your next target?" she asked curiously.
Ryo's expression turned nostalgic. "The East."
.
.
.