Listen, the so-called assassin—
Isn't just some brute swinging weapons wildly, nor is he a scheming, deceitful villain. He is a cold, emotionless...
Head-hunting maniac!
Atreus didn't quite believe the myth that "Achilles was poisoned to death by Paris's arrow on the spot."
Even the legendary "Laughing Death Powder" would take some time from the moment of poisoning to when it fully takes effect.
In reality, even the neurotoxin of a blue-ringed octopus takes nearly a minute to kill someone.
Someone like Achilles, a demigod with superhuman resilience, would have had plenty of time to do something before succumbing to the poison.
For example, he could have ripped Paris apart with his bare hands.
In the end, Paris took the blame, but Atreus claimed the kill.
Under normal circumstances, Atreus would never have been able to kill Achilles, one of the top Greek demigods in terms of strength.
This was a weakened Achilles.
Not only was he fatally poisoned, but he was also mortally wounded. Penthesilea's initial full-force spear had pierced Achilles' chest armor.
Atreus used Achilles' divine sword, following the gap created by the earlier wound, and drove the sword through Achilles.
It was a case of "killing you with your own divine weapon!"
If Achilles' "River Styx Body" had still been intact, this sword might not have pierced him. But unfortunately, as his life force and divinity drained away, the "River Styx Body" lost its protective power.
Outsiders didn't know any of this! No one knew that the invincible Achilles was already on the brink of death.
To both the Trojans and Greeks witnessing the battle, it looked like Kratos had just boldly and 'honorably' defeated Achilles.
After piercing Achilles' chest, Atreus didn't let his guard down for a second. He twisted the sword, further tearing open Achilles' body, shredding his heart to pieces.
Atreus's charge was ferocious. After impaling Achilles, he continued to charge forward, dragging Achilles with him for another dozen meters.
His footsteps smashed the ground, sending debris flying everywhere.
He carved out a death path 20 centimeters deep.
Finally, Achilles' back slammed against the side panel of his own chariot.
Stubborn as ever, he tried to kill Atreus in his final moments, even as the fire of his life flickered out.
But it was futile. His strength flowed out of him like a breached dam.
In his last moments, Achilles felt that dying at the hands of a true warrior was perhaps a kind of honor. At least it was better than being killed by Paris.
"Warrior... may I know your name? I'd like to at least know who it was that killed the great Achilles," Achilles asked, blood gushing from his mouth. His life was fading, but his face remained calm.
Atreus replied calmly, "In this world, I am known as *Kratos*."
"Thank you, Kratos."
Achilles closed his eyes and made his final prayer: *Mother Thetis, though the man who dealt the killing blow is this Kratos, it was Paris' poisoned arrow that truly doomed me. I've already killed Paris with my own hands. Do not hate Kratos—if you must hate someone, hate the Trojans...*
He knew that his mother, the sea goddess Thetis, would hear his last words.
As one of the greatest second-generation Greek heroes, Achilles had finally fallen, fulfilling the prophecy of his death beneath the walls of Troy.
Almost the moment Achilles breathed his last, Atreus saw an immense surge of red energy burst from Achilles' body and flood into his own.
This was...
Demigod power!
At that moment, Atreus felt every cell in his body ignite, a scorching heat from deep within his soul that made him shout out loud.
Pain!
His entire body ached!
A searing, tearing sensation, followed by brutal destruction, and then...
Rebirth!
The agony of having his body remade was quick, but it passed just as fast.
First came the power!
It wasn't an illusion—Atreus truly felt he could tear apart any ancient, non-divine gate with ease, shredding thick iron plates like ripping a sheet of paper.
Then came agility, that light, swift feeling, like he could leap three or four stories high in a single bound.
Next was resilience—that rock-solid sense of safety, like he could take a punch from a cyclops without flinching.
Finally, his perception—now, if he concentrated slightly, he could hear the movements of an insect from a hundred meters away and see every hair and wing beat.
Unfortunately, Achilles was primarily a close-combat hero, so his enhancements focused on those areas.
Atreus didn't even have time to check the system notifications that were frantically updating.
"Ahhhh—" Achilles' death cry stunned all the Greeks.
It wasn't until this moment that his followers snapped out of their daze and rushed to save their commander.
But it was too late! Achilles was a one-man army, capable of cutting through entire legions by himself.
After killing Hector, no one thought he'd fall so tragically.
But now they rushed forward?
Too late!
Atreus grabbed Achilles' body and jumped onto the chariot.
It was unbelievable! The two divine horses that had only ever obeyed Achilles bolted forward with just one crack of Kratos' whip.
They weren't out of control, but truly tamed and obedient.
The chariot made a sharp turn before the Greeks could surround them, stopping next to the dying Trojan general.
"Come up and see our prize!"
If Atreus had said anything else, Penthesilea wouldn't have rushed so eagerly onto the chariot.
But the body of Achilles, her greatest enemy, was on board!
Despite her pain, the Amazon queen smiled brightly as she grabbed Atreus's hand and leapt onto the chariot.
Cough, cough!
Even if the doors were sealed after boarding, it would have been worth it!
"Hahaha! Achilles! You finally have your day! Dead at last! You're finally dead!" The queen laughed wildly, tears of both joy and sorrow in her eyes.
No one understood the bitterness of the past few years better than her.
With Hector as the Trojans' champion, she, as a guest general, had been forced to endure many humiliations.
But now Kratos, whom she had summoned, had claimed the victory, and it would be credited to her.
The king of Troy had publicly taken responsibility for her feud with the Furies, meaning the Furies would now have to deal with the king.
She had avenged Hector by killing Achilles, clearing her debt to the king of Troy.
Even if the case were taken to Mount Olympus, she would win.
Suddenly, she realized: *I'm free!*
Meanwhile, the battle wasn't over.
Seeing Atreus take Achilles' body, the Greek heroes were enraged!
Odysseus shouted, "Retrieve Achilles!"
It sounded like the Greek heroes were united in protecting their comrade's body from desecration.
In part, that was true. After all, Achilles had desecrated Hector's corpse, and the Trojans had every right to retaliate.
But more importantly, everyone wanted Achilles' divine armor!
No one expected that when Ajax the Lesser leapt five or six meters, about to land on the chariot, the bald warrior would slash him with a single stroke, sending Ajax flying.
Blood and flesh splattered!
One slash!
It must be noted that both Ajax the Greater and Ajax the Lesser were among the top Greek heroes, second only to Achilles!
Such a display of overwhelming strength shocked the Greeks.
—
(Chapter ends)