In truth, at the same time Samael sent Martha away, the God of Medicine had already followed his instructions and used the Great Temple to summon the "medicine" that could treat him from the Pure Land of Bliss.
That's right. The one who appeared within the Great Temple was none other than Pandora, the Daughter of Calamity!
Nothing was better suited than Pandora herself to absorb and contain the Curse of Angra Mainyu.
Once that maggot-like thing clinging to his bones was pulled out of his body, the remaining injuries would naturally heal with ease thanks to Samael's immortality.
So, as early as last night, when the Ancient Serpent visited the God of Medicine and received a definite diagnosis, the plan to use Martha as his mouthpiece, himself as bait, and force Michael into a desperate gamble had already taken shape in Samael's mind.
From beginning to end, the Child of Light had never escaped Samael's calculations.
Achieving the greatest victory with the least strength and sacrifice had always been the aesthetic the Ancient Serpent pursued.
To perfectly stage this ambush, Samael had not only coughed up blood convincingly when facing the first strike, but had also committed every hero at his disposal to the battlefield. He had even generously lent Pandora his own weapon so she could heavily wound Michael in one blow and eliminate any hidden risks.
And now, the Book of Destiny, the only thing in Michael's possession that truly made him wary, had slipped free from the severed hand and was floating in midair.
"Pandora, good girl. Well done!"
At that moment, Samael spread his arms with a warm smile on his face and walked down from the dais, clearly intending to give the silver-haired, red-eyed girl a big hug.
"It is my honor to serve you, Father."
Pandora blinked her jewel-like red eyes and smiled sweetly, raising the huge red-black scythe to return it to its true owner.
The two figures moving toward the center met each other's gaze. Smiles bloomed on their faces as they shared the joy of victory.
Bang!
Bang!
But in the next instant, violent red-black Mana erupted. The two figures kicked off the ground at the same time and shot into the air, both lunging toward the Book of Destiny floating overhead.
"Father, weren't you going to hug me? So all that praise was a lie. How heartbreaking."
Pandora's eyes filled with grievance as the blood-red scythe in her hand suddenly swept forward.
"You troublesome brat. I knew you wouldn't behave!"
The Ancient Serpent, who had moved one step faster, curled his lips into a cold sneer. The cross-shaped stars in his eyes opened and closed as he grabbed the Book of Destiny with one hand and pointed forward with the other. Divine will hummed and pulsed.
In an instant, the huge scythe in Pandora's hand twisted and writhed, transforming into a hideous black-scaled serpent. It turned on her and coiled around the witch's delicate body.
Pandora, bound up like a cocoon, fell stiffly to the ground.
Trying to outscheme me? You're still too green!
Did you really think I'd let you out without any safeguards?
Samael dropped to the ground on one knee and dispersed the remaining force, his gaze carrying a chill.
Last night, in order to make Pandora work obediently and absorb the power of the Curse for him, he had removed the divine command etched into her body afterward.
But given this witch's long list of crimes, how could he possibly not leave himself a backup plan?
"Bondage? Father, so you have that kind of hobby. Would you like me to change positions?"
Pandora wriggled across the floor like a caterpillar. Seeing Samael approach with an unfriendly expression, she immediately raised her pretty face, blinking her sparkling eyes with every ounce of temptation she could muster.
Those alluring curves, seemingly on the verge of bursting free, and that breathtaking face, both innocent and seductive, made the Ancient Serpent falter for a brief moment.
Bang!
But just then, the red-black mud shell not far away shattered. Pale-faced Michael transformed into a streak of light with lightning speed and shot toward the sky beyond the doorway.
Hiss!
In an instant, a red-black arc of light flashed past. The Child of Light, already rising into the air, had no time to dodge. Half of his wing was violently severed, and golden-red divine blood sprayed everywhere.
Run!
Enduring the agonizing pain, Michael had only one thought left in his mind, driving him to flee with everything he had toward the Sea of Chaos.
"Bondage? You'll experience it soon enough. I'll settle accounts with you later!"
Samael turned to look at Pandora on the ground. His cold serpent pupils opened and narrowed, making Pandora feel like a frog being stared down by a venomous snake. A chill ran up her spine, and she could not help shivering.
Then, his face dark, the Ancient Serpent summoned the Sagittarius Golden Cloth. Like a meteor tearing across the sky, he beat its metallic wings at extreme speed and chased after Michael toward the Sea of Chaos.
At that moment, the sudden upheaval in Hot Springs Pass made both the Persian and Greek armies in battle turn pale. All eyes turned toward the place that had once again become the center of attention.
And when they saw that figure, dripping golden-red divine blood, with arm and wings severed, stripped of his radiance and fleeing miserably toward the Sea of Chaos, the Persians trapped in the crowded mountain hollow felt their faith collapse. Their faces turned ashen, and the weapons in their hands fell to the ground before they even realized it.
Mithra… has abandoned us…
"By the Three Goddesses above, Areopagus promises not to massacre prisoners! Those who surrender will be spared. Those who resist will be punished by entire squads! You have ten breaths to decide!"
Just as the Persian army's morale fell to rock bottom, one figure after another broke through the defensive line and took position on high ground. Jason, leading the Argonauts who had seized the key routes, shouted toward the cornered beasts in the hollow with great vigor.
"We surrender!"
But before the Captain could even begin counting, a graceful dark-skinned figure rode a flying carpet out of the hollow, raised both hands, and rushed straight toward the Greek camp.
"You… you are…"
"Scheherazade! Sir, my name is Scheherazade! I don't have to die, right?"
The curvaceous arcane mage hurriedly answered, looking at Jason with eager expectation. The Captain froze for a moment before finally coming back to himself and nodding dryly.
I don't have to die! I don't have to die!
Scheherazade patted her heaving chest and let out a deep sigh of relief, her face shining with satisfaction.
At that moment, the remaining Persian soldiers in the hollow looked at one another.
Martha, who had been hesitating over whether to honor the agreement and intervene to reduce casualties on both sides, stared at the dark-skinned beauty in shock.
Arash, who had drawn his bow and was preparing to fight to the bitter end, froze with his arm in midair, the corner of his mouth twitching hard.
"We surrender! We surrender too!"
What that guy had in his hand just now was… the Book of Destiny?
If the Book of Destiny was gone, and the Seven Seals controlling the Seven Riders were no longer in Mithra's hands, then what was there left to fight for?
King David and the Queen of Sheba exchanged a look. Before anyone could recover, they raised their hands and surrendered without hesitation, leaving Martha standing there with clenched fists, utterly disoriented in the wind.
However, when the two monarchs went forward to surrender, they were startled to discover that Scheherazade had already asked the Greeks for rope on her own initiative, bound herself, and was squatting obediently to the side.
Now that's what you call prisoner awareness!
King David clicked his tongue in admiration.
Seeing one powerful hero after another, along with their esteemed arcane mage, set an example, the last remnants of the Persian army's will to fight completely collapsed. One by one, they numbly threw down their weapons and awaited the judgment of fate.
Arash looked back at the few wounded archers remaining in the Meteor Legion and let out a long sigh. His fingers reluctantly loosened around his Longbow. He raised his hands and walked out of the forest.
"Miss Martha, is it? His Majesty has ordered that once the weapons are confiscated, you may lead the Persians in treating their wounded. We will provide potions and food."
The violet-haired Holy Maiden, still standing there in a daze and doubting everything she knew, snapped back to herself at the voice by her ear. She looked at the green-haired, cat-eared archer who had come to relay the message and nodded blankly.
My true duty is to save lives and ease suffering, not wage war.
Martha took a deep breath, calmed her tangled emotions, and devoted herself fully to treating the wounded.
Meanwhile, Darius, one of the two Persian kings, crawled out of a tunnel covered in dust and grime. Looking at the Greeks spread across the mountains and fields, he threw down his weapon with a face full of defeat and accepted his fate.
On the other side, Xerxes raised his curved blade and held it against his throat. As the cold edge touched his skin, the man ultimately could not bring himself to do it. He helplessly tossed the sword aside, turned, and gazed at the sky where the falling star had vanished, murmuring with a long sigh.
A great empire has fallen.
A brand-new era has begun.