Success! It actually worked!
Medea stared at the Argonauts on the battlefield, those who had been manipulated into turning their blades on their own comrades. The pink sheen in her eyes faded as she jolted back to her senses. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and looked down at the curved blade in her hand, relief flooding her expression.
Rule Breaker had originally been a priceless artifact meant only to sever magical contracts upon striking its target and dispel any enhancement effects.
But within the Underworld, after being infused with the divine blood of Hecate, the Witch Goddess, and reforged through her authority, it had gained far greater power. It could tear through magical defenses, deal magic-piercing damage, and even disperse divine authority to a certain extent.
After the lethal strike aimed at its divine core just moments ago, the Machine God Aphrodite had entered a state of ruin. Total collapse was now only a matter of time.
Even so, six had already fallen in the chaotic battle, and the remaining dozen or so were all wounded. The price paid was far too high.
Medea swept her gaze across the surroundings, her small face dimming.
"You heartless brat! I… I can't hold on much longer! Hurry… help me out here!"
Before the young witch could sink any deeper into her gloom, a strained, anguished cry rang out from the entrance of the hall.
Circe stood alone, holding back a massive force of Olympian Guards. The ground around her was littered with dense piles of shattered magical dolls and the skeletal remains of dragon-tooth soldiers. The Magecraft barrier she had erected was warped and distorted, flickering in and out of brightness as it was steadily forced backward, inch by inch, toward the interior of the hall under the advance of the humanoid monsters.
Standing at the rear, the Eagle Witch faced the pressing ranks of Olympian Guards like a scrawny sprout exposed to a dazzling, merciless sun.
"Auntie! I'm coming to help you!"
"How many times… have I told you… to call me… by my name…"
Medea rushed forward in a panic, layering Magecraft arrays as she prepared to resist the Olympian Guards together with her. Even while at her limit, Circe still turned her head, scowling as she stubbornly reiterated the point.
Boom!
Before they could properly join forces, the mana barrier, stretched to its absolute breaking point, detonated violently. Circe hastily pulled back her hand and crashed into Medea, the two of them flying across the hall together.
Amid the thunderous roar of shattering stone, large numbers of Olympian Guards poured in, closing in on the Argonauts from all sides.
"Shields up! Fall back! If we break through here and reach the High Altar, we win!"
Jason slammed a hand against his foggy head. Once he grasped the situation, his spirits surged. Without hesitation, he gathered the surviving members, packing them tightly together as they retreated toward the final stretch of stairs leading to the High Altar.
The captain had intended to pull up Orpheus, the one who had created this chance to turn the tide, and give him a few rousing words. But the moment Jason reached out and touched the genius musician clutching his broken lyre, Orpheus collapsed heavily to the ground.
To compose that final requiem capable of opposing divine authority, a mere mortal had drained himself of his very last drop of blood.
As Jason's gaze dropped lower, he saw a bronze dagger embedded in Orpheus's leg.
It was clear that under the bewitching voice of the Goddess of Beauty, the gifted singer had kept himself lucid through self-inflicted pain, offering up his life in exchange for this final performance.
Jason clenched his teeth so hard that blood welled along his lower lip. He turned away, struck his shield, and sang hoarsely as he retreated back into the formation.
"Graceful notes grant us joy and wisdom, guiding our voyage safely onward…"
"Our courage shines like the sun and moon upon the world; our glory will be remembered by all! We forge great deeds, and even the gods offer tribute for them!"
The others raised their shields and sang along, leaning on one another as they fought and withdrew toward the final staircase. In doing so, they offered their salute to the singer who had given his life to that last song in the corner of the hall.
"Mere organic lifeforms who have only just learned to walk on two legs… daring to use such fragile bodies… to challenge the gods… Heh heh heh. How ridiculous!"
Amid the crackling surge of electricity, the Machine God Aphrodite, convulsing and breaking apart before the Magecraft array, looked twisted and grotesque.
Jason halted mid-step, his pupils contracting. A sense of ominous dread washed over him, an indescribable fear raising the hairs on the back of his neck as he instinctively took a step back.
Women are terrifying creatures.
An angry woman is even more terrifying.
As if to prove the hard-earned wisdom of his life experience, the Machine God Aphrodite let out a resentful, furious roar amid the flickering arcs of lightning.
"O almighty god who governs all things from the heavens, cast your judgment upon these lowly ants!"
In an instant, blue-white arcs of light erupted into being above the pillar of radiance leading to the High Altar. Dense lightning storms gathered wildly, then crashed down like branching veins.
Crack…
Beneath the blinding blue-white lightning columns, the remnants of Aphrodite at the heart of the hall began to break apart inch by inch. Her body dissolved into spirit particles and was absorbed into the storm, while the surrounding stone structures rapidly melted away, like ice exposed to a blazing sun.
"Run!"
Seeing the vast lightning pillar spreading outward and sweeping across everything, Jason felt his soul nearly leave his body. He roared hoarsely, his face twisted in panic, while the pupils of the battered Argonauts shrank violently.
Boom!
Moments later, amid a thunderous explosion, the corridor of the Machine God was torn open by a horizontal arc of blue-white lightning. Several figures were flung outward, blood spraying from their mouths as they burst through the裂 gap along with tumbling debris, plunging straight toward the ground.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
From a height of several hundred meters, only thanks to Magecraft reinforcement and a desperate series of last-second maneuvers did the Argonauts avoid becoming grotesque splatters smashed across the ground.
Even so, they were in miserable shape. Bones were broken, tendons torn, and every one of them was gravely injured. Medea and Circe, the two witches, had completely exhausted their Mana. Their faces were deathly pale as they collapsed unconscious.
This is… Altar Street?
Jason coughed up a mouthful of blood and forced his swollen eyelids open. As he looked around at the familiar surroundings, his expression froze.
Bracing himself with his spear, the captain struggled to stand. As his gaze stretched farther out, the battlefield grew more and more horrific. Blood spattered the ground, corpses lay scattered nearby, and his heart slowly sank.
The others ran into trouble too.
The second team was probably barely holding together, or worse… completely wiped out.
Thump… thump… thump… thump…
At that moment, heavy, drum-like footsteps echoed from all directions along Altar Street. Dust billowed through the air, and the shrill scrape of armor and weapons grew clearer and more piercing by the second.
Sensing disaster, the Argonauts struggled to their feet, but they no longer had the strength to even grip their weapons, let alone take another step forward.
Worse still, nearly half their companions lay unconscious on the ground. Resistance was impossible. Even hiding was out of the question. They had been driven into a dead end.
Jason lifted his head and looked toward the High Altar looming in the sky, his eyes filled with grief and despair.
Just a little more. Just a little more. Is this really where it ends for us?
At that moment, the outlines of Olympian Guards, Primordial Serpent Maidens, and magical dolls began to appear at the corners of nearby streets and alleys.
Boom!
At the same time, a low, vibrating hum rose from beneath the ground. Pitch-black shadows spilled out from dark, jagged fissures, spreading outward like ink.
All or nothing!
Driven to desperation, the Argonauts drew their bronze swords and swung them forward in fury, their momentum fierce and unyielding.
"I was wondering, do you need a hand, everyone…?"
At that critical instant, the black shadow shook loose its inky haze, and a deep male voice emerged from within.
The warriors forcibly halted their descending blades, staring ahead in shock. Jason was the first to react, his face lighting up with disbelief and joy.
"It's you! You're still alive!"
"This isn't the place to talk. If we don't leave now, it'll be too late…"
The shadow shifted slightly, revealing a deep rocky tunnel that seemed to connect to the underground. Casting a glance at the monsters converging from all sides, he frowned and urged them on.
Snatched back from the brink of death, the Argonauts nodded without hesitation. Supporting their injured companions, they filed into the tunnel one after another.
As the shadow bringing up the rear raised his hand and swung it, the ground shook violently. The tunnel entrance collapsed at once, completely sealing the pursuing enemies outside.