The Villain of Ancient Greece

Crimson bloodlust stirred the violent tides of aether, surging like a storm sweeping away clouds as a dazzling blade of light flared from the tip of the tree branch in Lorne’s hand, shooting straight toward Athena’s throat in an instant.

”Too slow.”

In a flash of lightning, the war goddess, who was still standing motionless, lifted her hand and flicked her wrist.

Just an inch before the attack could land, her sword momentum twisted gracefully, effortlessly knocking aside the furious strike.

At once, the force behind the parried blow diverted not just the branch in Lorne’s hand, but also threw his whole body off balance, sending him staggering into a nearby flowerpot.

”If I recall correctly, you already had dinner tonight?”

Her indifferent question drifted through the air with a touch of mockery, instantly causing Lorne’s already-heightened blood pressure to spike through the roof as his eyes flushed red with bursting veins.

So you want speed, huh? Fine—fast it is!

War intent roared like a tidal wave.

Lorne stomped his left foot into the ground, shattering several marble tiles beneath him.

Using the recoil, he stabilized his body and launched forward like a thunderbolt, the ”sword” in his hand flashing down like a meteor storm.

That’s it?

Athena yawned.

Raising a delicate hand, she casually swept away the oncoming starlight.

Her slender body stood like an immovable reef on the coastline and no matter how wild the waves crashed, she remained firm and unshaken.

And the look of utter boredom on her face? A taunt more cutting than any blade.

Fight! Fight! Fight!

Unable to make any headway, the blood-drenched battlefield in Lorne’s mind echoed with countless souls howling.

Ares’s divine golden blood burned furiously within him, transforming into boundless power coursing through his limbs.

Buzz!

With a sharp shriek of air, a blood-colored surge condensed into a single point, then shot forward like a laser, piercing through the world in a straight line.

”Speed’s decent… shame about your aim.”

Athena’s dress flared like a banner in the wind as she offered a calm evaluation, then her lips curled into a smirk before she spoke in a sharp tone.

”But remember—your enemies won’t just stand still!”

Before the words even faded, the goddess subtly shifted her body, stepping half a foot to the side.

That seemingly unstoppable crimson slash skimmed dangerously close to her flowing silver hair, missing her entirely by a hair’s breadth.

So close… yet so far.

Worse still, with his strike missing the mark, Lorne’s forward momentum caused him to overextend and stumble.

”Smack!”

A loud, resounding smack landed squarely on his buttocks.

It didn’t do much damage, but the humiliation was brutal.

Lorne winced at the stinging pain radiating from his glutes, his face twisting as the searing sensation lit a new fire under his blood-boiling fury.

Not enough! Still not enough!

Though his speed and strength were just barely sufficient, he lacked the technique!

Technique—I need technique!

That silent cry echoed in his mind, and the blood-colored river of his heart roared and surged.

Suddenly, grotesque figures rose from the carnage of his thoughts, headless Titans, mindless nymphs, wingless dragons, screaming heroes… Each blood-soaked entity charged forward into battle, again and again, hurling themselves against death.

The berserker god, adorned with a bronze-feathered helm and leather bracers, danced on the battlefield with sword and spear in hand, facing the endless tide of challengers.

Again and again, he cleaved, pierced, hacked, and struck.

Heavy punches smashed down, sharp blades swept sideways, claws raked, spears flew, each brutal response to peril, each kill-or-be-killed maneuver, surged wildly into Lorne’s soul, flashing before his eyes.

As needle-like agony pierced through his skull, his eyes turned crimson.

Gritting his teeth, he spun around and unleashed a wild torrent of slashes, thrusts, and chops toward the war goddess—his ”sword” sweeping with such intensity that wind pressure carved gouges into the surrounding floor.

Now this is getting interesting…

Standing at the eye of the storm, Athena raised her brows slightly, then, took quick, nimble steps, her own tree-branch sword smoothly intercepting and shattering the barrage with effortless precision, never wasting a flicker of motion, yet blocking every strike.

As Lorne’s mind absorbed, interpreted, and internalized the battlefield’s many deadly techniques, his momentum only grew fiercer and attacks evolved beyond any rigid sword form.

Sometimes his moves bore the venomous cunning of a spear, sometimes the bold, sweeping arcs of a saber, sometimes the crushing impact of a blunt weapon…

Each movement carried fragments of past experience: the desperate duels against divine beasts atop the Oceanus, the tactical deception he employed while evading Atlantis’s elite guards, even techniques from ancient memory—Taiji’s yielding redirection, Baji’s explosive disarms, Aikido’s fluid counters and reversals…

All knowledge of combat—whether observed, personally learned, or merely imagined in theory, was being slowly etched into Lorne’s blood, bones, and even soul during this thrilling battle, forging itself into instinct and clarity.

This was the Infinite Combat, the Endless Trial, the Boundless Martial Path!

Athena, retreating and countering as she fought, gradually noticed the rapid transformation of the figure before her.

And the corners of her lips, once composed, began to lift into a faint curve.

Not bad... finally starting to look like something.

However, after a full hour of intense sparring, Lorne suddenly halted his assault, his flushed eyes brimming with dissatisfaction and indignation.

”Fight back! Why won’t you fight back!?”

That’s right.

Until now, the goddess had mostly stuck to passive defense and dismantling his techniques, without even the slightest hint of attacking.

”You want me to fight back? Are you sure?”

Athena’s violet eyes narrowed as she responded with a half-smile.

”Of course! Battle! I want a pure battle!”

At this moment, Lorne’s mind was entirely consumed by the surging will to fight, his thoughts were fully Ares-ified, and his burning gaze locked onto Athena once more.

Well..in a suicide attempt, he launched forward with renewed fury, his ”sword” slashing toward her in a new offensive.

Come on, let’s go completely insane!

Watching the charging Lorne, Athena’s smile broadened into a radiant grin.

At the same time, two small figures peeked out from the rear veranda, having been drawn by the commotion.

Their expressions told two different stories.

Little Medusa gripped the edge of her robe with bone-white knuckles, her face filled with anxiety.

Nike, on the other hand, stared wide-eyed, clearly enjoying the show.

”Boom!”

Swordlights clashed—and the first figure to strike was launched like a cannonball, flying backward until he crashed headfirst into a thick rose bush.

”Hiss—!”

Landing hard on his backside, Lorne’s face turned green.

He shot upright like he’d been electrocuted, hands flailing behind him as he yanked out seven or eight bloodied thorns.

She did that on purpose!

She definitely did that on purpose!

She’s totally getting back at me for stealing her offerings the other day!

At this moment, Lorne, whose face twisted in pain, looked toward Athena, who was walking toward him through the settling dust with a half-smile and couldn’t help but silently grumble in his heart

So petty!

”Still want to continue, my friend…?”

The goddess of wisdom tapped the branch in her palm rhythmically, her expression relaxed, yet tinged with a trace of regret.

Sure, that was satisfying—but maybe it was a bit…

However, now fully regaining his clarity,

Lorne gritted his teeth and pulled a broken half-branch from the ground.

And yet, he showed no sign of backing down. Instead, he strode forward boldly, an even more intense battle will erupting from deep within him.

”Again!”

Athena blinked in slight surprise.

Her smile faded, and a cool stillness gradually swept across her face.

But those flowing, dusky violet eyes of her, flickered with a trace of genuine approval.

”Very well.”

Her crimson lips parted, this was her acknowledgment of someone bold enough to draw their sword against a god.

Her graceful hand swept forth, this was the punishment dealt to a madman who dared offend divine might.

”Thwip!”

The shrieking branch cut through the air, easily tearing apart the swordlight Lorne had raised to protect himself as a brutal gash split across his chest, peeling back his skin and flesh before crimson blood sprayed into the air.

(End of Chapter)