"Tomorrow is when that so-called Galaxian Wars officially begins. Let's tear apart, openly before the world, those who dare defy the Pope. We'll bring the Gold Cloth back to the Sanctuary, and we won't spare a single one of these rebels. Leave it all to us." Centaurus Babel spoke with absolute confidence.
"Excellent. Though it stings a little, Babel's strength does inspire confidence. Just you wait, Dark Saints—tomorrow will be your death day." Dante's eyes held only hatred now, the message the Dark Dragon had told him to relay to the Pope long since forgotten.
The arrival of three powerful Silver Saints gave Dante and his two men great courage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, these young people standing before you are the mysterious Saints of legend from all around the world. Their fists can rend the sky, their feet can split the earth…" The next day, the Galaxian Wars venue was packed, filled to the brim with dignitaries from across the globe.
The young emcee waxed lyrical about secrets that, for most of the audience, belonged to another world entirely.
Before the tournament, most young people around the world had never even heard the word "Saint."
Or rather, most young people today were fixated on science. They judged reality by whether current technology could explain it.
Can the human body really reach that level? Beyond the speed of sound? Five Mach, even ten? You've got to be kidding.
Would that still be human?
Only when they saw the boys onstage—who looked no older than their teens—did they abandon the thought. Humans really can reach that level.
And the way to achieve that inhuman limit was… Cosmo? They'd never even heard of it.
As the emcee introduced them and the boys onstage showed a few moves, the mood grew hotter and hotter. Doubts gave way to thunderous cheers.
Reverence for the strong has always been a human specialty.
"Let's take a look at our first matchup."
On the giant screen at center court, two names appeared at once.
"Shiryu of Dragon (China) vs. Lunge the Ice Warrior (Northern Europe)."
"Contestants, to the ring."
"Northern Europe? So even Valhalla's Ice Warriors came. The Gold Cloth's pull really is something." Meruem held a roster listing not only every contestant's name but also their Cloth and abilities.
All thanks to Akatsuki's intelligence network for the event.
Note: with the exception of Valhalla's leader Doluba not lowering himself to enter, his other three God Warriors had all signed up for this Galaxian Wars.
Aside from Valhalla, only the three Silver Saints from the Sanctuary merited attention.
Most of the remaining entrants were obscure local fighters, barely at the "first awakened Cosmo" level. The strongest were only at the early Sixth Sense—just meeting the standard for a Bronze Saint.
By the way, Meruem's Galaxian Wars was far grander than in the original. The field wasn't ten contestants but a full one hundred.
And Mitsumasa Kido—whom Meruem had contacted early on—had Graad Foundation entrants as well, namely his remaining ninety-four sons aside from the main six.
That is, the other four who had obtained Cloths besides the Unicorn Jabu.
"The winner: Shiryu of Dragon!" By then, the bout had already ended.
With late Sixth Sense power, Shiryu soundly defeated the Ice Warrior from the North.
Rozan Rising Dragon—worthy of a technique that can reverse the Rozan waterfall. Tremendous power.
"Lunge actually lost… Hmph, we underestimated them. Who'd have thought there'd be so many experts outside the Sanctuary's Gold Saints?" In the VIP box, Doluba sipped a fine red and sighed.
His original intent had been to seize the Gold Cloth outright, but that thought died the moment he neared the venue.
While not the equal of Hilda, the true proxy of Odin, Doluba had obtained a wisp of divine power from somewhere. It was only a sliver, but enough to do much. Thanks to that sliver—and Asgard's aversion to war—Valhalla had taken root in the North.
It was also that divine trace that told him things weren't simple here. Though he didn't know the Seventh Sense, he could feel the strength of others' Cosmos. Even in plain sight there were several massive Cosmos lurking around the Gold Cloth.
Each was no weaker than he was. That was why Doluba abandoned the idea of robbery and adjusted to a more measured mindset.
"Babel, that kid's Cosmo…" On the other side, the Silver Saints were conferring. The Cosmo Shiryu displayed was already very close to their own.
"Asterion, that's what makes it fun."
"White Whale Moses vs. Wolf Nachi."
"Looks like a Bronze Saint. Time for me to show them the difference between Bronze and Silver." Moses spoke as he rose and stepped into the ring.
From his entrance to the end of the match, the whole thing took less than ten seconds.
With a single move, Moses robbed Nachi of the ability to fight.
"Bronzes this weak—send as many as you like, I can clean them up with ease," Moses jeered up at the bench where the other Bronze Five sat.
"Next up, Phoenix Ikki of Death Queen Island vs. Asterion of Hound (Sanctuary)."
"Just finished boasting and now he runs into a real one. These Sanctuary guys are way too cocky. Ikki, give him a proper lesson," Seiya said, glaring at the line of Silver Saints.
"They rubbed me the wrong way back in the Sanctuary. If Master Aiolia hadn't forbidden fighting, I'd have taught them already."
"Hmph, you don't need to tell me. He's just a Silver." Ikki vaulted to center stage with a stylish leap.
"Heh-heh-heh… Tough luck, Bronze Saint. It's a pity your opponent is me—otherwise you might have stood a chance. But before me, you have no secrets." Asterion was one of the Silver Saints with a special ability.
His specialty—mind reading. As the name implies, he could know what his opponent was thinking.
"You plan to defeat me? Hahaha. Let me show you the gap between Silver and Bronze."
"What's mind reading compared to raw speed? Just surpass my thoughts and it's useless. Bronze Saint, you really know nothing. Every Silver Saint has reached at least mid-Sixth Sense. Against you lot who just learned Cosmo—some not even at the Sixth Sense—we Silvers can utterly dominate! Perhaps you don't even know what the Sixth Sense is." Asterion grew more pleased with himself the longer he talked.
"What's he doing? Blathering to himself—just finish it," Moses grumbled as he watched Asterion onstage.
"Something's off—Asterion is off! That Phoenix used some special technique!" Of the three, Babel was the strongest, so he noticed first.
"Thanks for the info. But you talk too much—so, down you go." Ikki had held the same pose since stepping onto the platform, maximizing his cool.
"W-what… my body—" Asterion's vision went black for no reason, and he toppled straight to the floor.
"The Phoenix Illusion Demon Fist… as expected of Ikki. What a terrifying technique." The Bronze bench gasped as one.
Ikki was recognized as the strongest among the boys—he had already reached the Seventh Sense.
"How? That Bronze never even moved—so why did Asterion collapse?" Moses shouted.
"No—Asterion's nerves were destroyed." Babel knelt to check him. "This Bronze Saint is no ordinary foe. The Phoenix Cloth of Death Queen Island—I've heard of it. Since the first Holy War, it's a legend that never reappeared. Likewise Dragon and Andromeda—and Pegasus, the constellation said to follow the goddess's reincarnation through the ages. Moses, this mission may not be so simple. Judging by strength alone, Phoenix and Dragon…"
True to his portrayal in the original—repenting with his last breath after learning Saori's true identity—Babel knew more secrets than most Silvers.
"Babel, stop fearmongering. They're just a few Bronzes. Asterion's just weak. If I take the stage…"
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