Boom!
Swish~
Boom!
Even as a battle unfolded between Aetherion and Hyperion—more like a cat chasing a mouse—none of the deities who had been fighting moments before could bring themselves to continue.
They had just seen Pallas die.
A man so strong.
A man so mighty.
A man respected by all.
One of the Twelve Great Titans.
And there he was before them all—dead.
His heart had been ripped from his chest.
A being such as him, simply… gone.
Astonishment, anger, joy, disbelief—countless emotions surged through both armies.
No one could comprehend what had happened, let alone resume their battle.
All they could do was watch the sky, where flashes of light flickered so quickly that none of them could follow the movements of Aetherion and Hyperion.
But among all of them, the one most astonished was Pallas's own son—Kratos.
Kratos was a silent man, but he respected strength above all else.
That was his very nature.
He loved to fight.
He loved to prove his strength and fight the strong.
He respected the strong and looked down upon those who chose to remain weak.
He admired those who struggled to grow stronger and despised those who refused to try.
That was why he chose to follow Aetherion.
A man obsessed with strength.
A man who dared to challenge the throne itself.
A man determined to defeat the strongest deity alive—Kronos.
Just hearing such ambition had stirred something deep within him.
And so Kratos followed.
He even fought Aetherion once—and lost.
But when he lost, he had only smiled and laughed.
He and his sister, Nike, loved it.
They loved training.
They loved growing stronger.
They loved fighting.
And through it all, they had both grown tremendously.
Still…
Kratos had been nervous when facing his father.
Yes, he respected Pallas.
Yes, he cared about him too.
But he also knew something else.
Even if Pallas were killed, he would eventually return.
That was the nature of ancient immortals.
True death was rare among them.
Only Kronos truly possessed the power to end them permanently.
So Kratos had never truly feared his father's death.
No—
The real reason he had been nervous was something else entirely.
He and Nike had doubted whether Aetherion could defeat Pallas.
And now…
He realized how wrong he had been.
'It seems he proved me wrong,' Kratos thought.
Watching his father die in such a brutal way filled him with a strange mixture of emotions.
There was a hint of sadness—but far more excitement.
Yes, he was saddened by his father's defeat.
But Pallas would return someday.
And what filled his heart now was something stronger.
Joy.
Joy at witnessing the strength of the man he had chosen to follow.
A crooked smile spread across Kratos's lips as a low chuckle escaped him.
Around him, the other warriors barely noticed.
They were still too shocked, too traumatized, staring at the fallen body of Pallas.
But Kratos simply laughed quietly to himself.
His loyalty to Aetherion only grew stronger.
"A man like this… deserves nothing less than absolute loyalty,"
he muttered.
Those who overheard him could not argue.
Everyone present had seen it with their own eyes.
Aetherion was a leader worth following.
A man worthy of respect.
A man kind to his allies or the people under him, and now showed he also had the strength.
A man who had done the impossible—defeating one of the Twelve Great Titans.
Kratos clenched his fist.
'I swear… my fists shall always follow you, Aeth—no…my lord.'
He made that vow silently in his heart.
A vow to the world.
A vow to himself.
The man before him—the one who had defeated his own father, the one who had shown relentless determination and unimaginable strength—was the man Kratos had chosen.
And from this moment onward…
He would follow him without hesitation.
***
As for Nike, she was similar to Kratos in many ways.
Nike loved becoming stronger.
She was not like other goddesses, Titanesses, or nymphs.
She was a woman who pursued strength with unwavering dedication.
In that regard, she was somewhat similar to Themis—a woman who had honed herself and her domain to a magnificent degree.
Yet Nike was different.
Her drive was far more obsessive.
There was only one reason behind everything she did.
Victory.
Whenever she fought, her goal was not simply to learn or improve.
Her goal was to win.
And she hated losing.
She truly hated it.
That hatred of defeat was the very reason she pursued strength so relentlessly.
The stronger she became, the more victories she could claim.
Nike was not someone who accepted defeat easily.
And the reason she followed Aetherion was surprisingly simple.
She could not see a path to victory against him.
It wasn't because he was all-powerful.
No—far from it.
It was something stranger than that.
It felt as if the man himself was not meant to exist.
In every battle, Nike could normally see possible outcomes—the flow of victory and defeat.
The path to victory was closely tied to fate itself.
Every probability, every possible result, was linked to fate.
And through that connection, she could usually sense the road that led to victory.
But with Aetherion…
She could see nothing.
No path.
No possibility.
It was as if fate itself could not grasp him.
That mystery intrigued her.
Out of curiosity, she chose to follow him rather than any of the other claimants of power.
Over time, she began training alongside him and her brother, Kratos.
And she grew stronger.
Far stronger.
She discovered new ways to use her domain of victory in combat.
In fact, she had developed something somewhat similar to Aetherion's technique with the Star Domain—the Path of Victory.
In some ways, their abilities mirrored each other.
Yet hers possessed a unique and higher quality, because Aetherion did not possess the Domain of Victory itself.
Through training with him, she learned more about fighting, about strategy, and about strength.
Gradually, admiration formed.
And with admiration came loyalty.
They became companions.
Friends.
People who could trust each other with their lives.
During this battle, however, Nike had felt doubt.
For the first time, she wondered if victory might truly be impossible.
Even with her domain guiding her, she had been afraid.
She knew how strong her father was.
How mighty he had always been.
Yes—was.
Because now he was dead.
Relief slowly spread through her heart. She knew he would eventually return—such was the nature of ancient immortals—but for now, the battle had been decided.
Aetherion had won.
A blooming smile appeared on her face as she nodded slightly, as if she herself had achieved victory.
In a way, she had.
She had fought fiercely against the major gods and nearly defeated them.
Had Aetherion not appeared when he did, she would likely have killed them eventually.
The same could be said for her brother.
And for Hera—her leader's sister.
Nike looked toward the two light that moved too fast up in the sky.
Her mischievous and kind friend.
Her leader.
Her lord.
Her gaze held admiration, loyalty… and something that could almost be called worship.
Because she knew one thing with certainty.
As long as she stood behind this man…
As long as she followed him…
Victory would always be within reach.
Softly, she whispered,
"May the blessing of victory remain with you, my lord… forever and ever."
It was a vow spoken only within her heart.
I will stand beside you forever.
I will serve you.
I will fight for your victories.
It was her promise—to the world, to Aetherion, and to herself—that she would become his guardian and ensure victory is always in reach.
The goddess who rule the victory domain would follow the man who had just slain one of the Twelve Great Titans.