[93] Single Handedly

Medea sensed with a surreal awareness that her teacher, Hecate, had undergone subtle yet significant changes in these past few days.

The Hecate of yesteryears, cloaked entirely in the enigmatic veil akin to the deep night, always exuded an aura of coolness, etherealness, sanctity, and nobility, akin to the luminous moonlight in the night sky.

Yet in recent days, Hecate seemed to maintain the appearance of a seductive beauty for longer durations. Her body surged with an increasingly potent flow of energy. With every graceful step, her slender waist and voluptuous hips swayed enchantingly, a sensuality that even the veil couldn't conceal, arousing a captivating allure.

Hecate had woven her long black hair into waves reminiscent of the sea. Between her brows adorned with a tear-shaped mole, she applied eye makeup tinged with a drunken blush, adding a dignified charm to every smile and frown, radiating an intoxicating allure.

Wrapped in black fabric, her goddess-like skin exuded a misty allure, accentuating the curves hidden within the sheer fabric, tempting even Medea, who was growing into her own as a witch, leaving her somewhat parched.

Her teacher... seemed to have become even more beautiful, more enchanting.

That clear and beautiful face of the goddess was simply irresistible.

This... could this be the married woman charm that His Highness often described?

The goddess's bewitching beauty made even the burgeoning witch feel somewhat inadequate.

Yet, every thought of His Highness's devoted love filled Medea with a sense of triumph. Such trivial matters hardly mattered when she had won His Highness's heart.

What of the goddess? Wasn't her energy all bestowed by His Highness, bit by bit? She was, after all, the witch nurtured by His Highness's own hands!

However, the teacher's condition seemed to be gradually improving, much to Medea's genuine delight.

In these past few days, Hecate no longer emphasized maintaining physical distance between them, often providing her with intimate magical guidance, hand in hand.

"So, teacher, have you managed to control the process of devilization?" 

Medea asked joyfully under Hecate's personal tutelage, practicing the dark curse magic.

To this, the goddess of the dark moon simply smiled faintly, her enchanting face appearing serene and dignified, leaving Medea momentarily stunned.

"Yes, perfectly under control. I have no desire to consume humans anymore." 

Hecate said lightly.

However, Hecate was actually reassuring Medea.

The fear of darkness is ingrained in human blood.

By actively integrating the concept of the Darkness Devil with the authority of the night, Hecate was suppressing the devil's malice with her own intellect, hoping to alleviate some pressure from the Olympian gods.

Unless human fear and malice are completely eradicated, the process of devilization is irreversible.

Hecate chose to isolate herself deep in the underworld to suppress her desire for bloodshed.

As long as she remained unseen, she wouldn't crave human flesh.

In Hecate's mind, the overwhelming desire to consume human flesh had been replaced by another, more intense desire.

For these past few days, she had been well fed by Kratos.

In a sense, could this be considered feeding?

It's just that what she often indulged in was not blood but another, more aromatic, rich, and irresistible fluid, besides blood.

"Kratos's wisdom is vast like the ocean of stars. Your husband's profound study has greatly inspired me." 

Hecate smiled, gently caressing Medea's cheek.

"In the days to come, it should be fine for you to have more physical contact with us."

What is appetite?

Hecate's current body was constantly yearning, her mind filled only with surging desires.

Though it didn't solve the problem of devilization... merely treating the symptoms rather than the root cause... being able to alleviate it and marvel at Kratos's astounding wisdom was enough for Hecate.

Medea, your husband, Kratos, tastes really good!

As the dignified and revered goddess of the dark moon, Hecate couldn't bring herself to tell her disciple, Medea, about her indulgences in front of her husband, Kratos, every day.

Thus, with a tide of guilt, Hecate diligently taught Medea various magics, hoping to dilute or redeem her own sins to some extent.

After all, Kratos didn't need her guidance at all. On the contrary, as a goddess, Hecate had much to learn from him.

But still...

Redemption aside, refraining from indulgence was impossible!

Why not indulge while redeeming? Sins have to be committed before they can be redeemed!

"Excellent, teacher..."

Hearing her teacher's words, Medea's eyes shimmered with joyous hues of purple, leaving Hecate feeling a bit guilty and bashful.

"Praise His Highness, who effortlessly accomplishes what even gods cannot! With this, perhaps there is a way to remedy the corruption of the gods?" 

Medea speculated. 

The remedy... was to kill his father, Zeus.

Hecate sighed imperceptibly, her face displaying a serene smile befitting a goddess.

"Indeed, so you must learn magic diligently, Medea. Only then can you be of assistance to your wise king husband, for the benefit of Kratos."

Hecate's soft voice echoed gently.

"We cannot let Kratos bear all burdens alone, can we?"

Although, Hecate thought... wasn't she the goddess who was lifted up every day by Kratos, burdened with responsibilities...

Kratos, he liked things big... Was she considered chubby?

Childlike, voluptuous, plump.

These were Hecate's three facets.

During her indulgences, she would occasionally intentionally switch to her childish aspect, or oscillate between the mature and the elegant, which would immediately elicit from Kratos an expression of patience that was somewhat unable to withstand his overpowering pressure, very enjoyable to tease.

This was one of the few moments when Hecate could gain the upper hand in Kratos's arms.

Hu... husband...

Hearing the teacher's words.

The magical energy in Medea's hands started to waver with embarrassment.

"We... we haven't had our wedding yet, teacher..."

"I know..." Hecate smiled knowingly, "It's only a matter of time, right?"

In front of Medea, tasting her fiancé... seemed even more enticing?!

Medea was just too easy to tease, making Hecate feel as if her morals had become somewhat twisted and enjoyable.

"Teacher!" Medea coquettishly averted her gaze.

"Alright, alright, I won't tease you anymore."

Hecate opened her arms wide, embracing the purple-haired witch, the thin black fabric of her attire caressing Medea's cheeks, the gentle and smooth touch causing Medea's face to blush slightly.

The teacher... was not wearing...

"Feels comfortable, right?"

Hecate understood the glimmer in Medea's eyes.

"This garment was designed by Kratos, and your teacher likes it very much..." She said ambiguously, brushing against her disciple's cheek with her breast, "So how about I weave one for you, to enhance the enjoyment of the night?"

"The enjoyment of the night..."

Medea buried her face.

That sounded a bit... strange?

However, Medea couldn't pinpoint what exactly felt wrong. Her body, though gradually developing due to time, still retained the thoughts of a girl, making it difficult for her to realize that Hecate's words were from her own experiences.

"Forget... forget it, too embarrassing! Teacher..."

"Hmm... Hmm... then, practice well, Medea. Call upon your teacher whenever you need."

With excitement and guilt, Hecate coughed a few times.

After teaching Medea magic here for half a day, the solidified energy also resonated under Kratos's control for a while. The heart-shaped symbols in Hecate's eyes seemed to overflow.

Knowing it was wrong, yet... unable to stop.

Whenever Hecate recalled these past few days, her cheeks would inevitably blush, and she didn't know what vocabulary to use to describe the sensation akin to ascending Olympus... madness? Roughness? Wantonness?

After much thought, perhaps 'conquest' was the most appropriate term.

...She was indeed the defeated side, thoroughly conquered, filled with food in her belly all day long, the pure energy fluctuating with her movements serving as the best evidence.

Hearing the teacher's instructions.

Medea nodded vigorously, then focused on practicing magic diligently, thinking about how to benefit her husband.

Behind Medea, dark shadows flowed uncertainly. Hecate smiled foolishly, her bare feet treading on the moist footprints, walking somewhat unsteadily towards the library of the palace.

In the center of the spacious library, with towering shelves stacked layer upon layer, the cold moonlight filtered down from the dome.

The black-haired youth sat on the chair, flipping through the pages of the book rapidly and attentively, his gaze scanning everything he could learn.

The thousands of treasures here were too rich, making Kratos feel as if he had entered a sumptuous feast of magic.

Compared to the library of the Clock Tower's Grand Mausoleum, the literature hall of this era could only be described as a pile of combustible rubbish.

With his memory and Aatrox's computing power, Kratos could easily achieve the efficiency of quantum wave-speed reading.

His deep reddish eyes absorbed all knowledge in a frenzy yet in an orderly manner.

The black strands of hair cascading behind him seemed to absorb people's gazes and souls with their profound colors.

Even the sight of Kratos reading was so charming...

It made one want to... disrupt him...

Clearly... without drinking.

Yet, the goddess seemed to be drunkenly flushed and absent-minded.

Hecate, with a dazed gaze and unsteady steps, approached, her broad breast embracing the black-haired youth with a slight tremble, experiencing the delightful sensation of fullness, softness, smoothness, and elasticity, like gentle waves, rippling with tantalizing ripples.

Enjoying the soft pillow named Hecate, Kratos nestled comfortably into it.

"...I'm still reading, teacher."

"Don't read..." Hecate's eyes, seductive as silk, exhaled softly against Kratos's earlobe, "Come take a look at the goddess you've been enduring for half a day, you naughty thing."

A goddess? Goddesses only delay my progress in learning.

Kratos slowly raised his head, gazing at the tender and alluring face of the woman before him. The subtle curve at the corner of his lips was abruptly silenced by Hecate's soft lips, which he had long coveted.

Standing by the chair.

Kratos cradled Hecate's face from top to bottom.

Clearly, she was the one being proactive.

But she was quickly kissed into a soft whimper by this young and wise king.

The sparkling moonlight shimmered in the air.

The cold, mysterious, and sacred Hecate, as if drained of all her strength, turned into a shadow, crushed in the embrace of the black-haired youth.

"Indeed, the Goddess Hecate is much more pleasing to the eye than books."

Kratos kneaded her enchanting cheeks, smiling.

"I will... read you."

"Energy..." Hecate, now limp in the pile of books, just breathed softly, "Is almost... fully absorbed."

"Then, let me help you replenish it."

Anticipating the energy bestowed by the young king.

Hecate licked her crimson lips, exhaling a misty heat with ripples of desire in her eyes, slowly kneeling down.

In this world, the only one who could make the sacred Goddess Hecate bow down like this was him.

"Don't waste it, don't spill it..."

She parted her lips, smiling seductively.

"Fill a little more here."

...

Rubbing sleepy eyes.

After a night of exhaustion from battling, Medea, with her body slightly weakened, slowly sat up from the bed, casting a glance at the empty bedsheet beside her.

His Highness was not there...

Of course not.

Because His Highness didn't sleep much.

Although Medea hoped to snuggle into Kratos's embrace and fall asleep, disturbing his studies would not be good... her daily mana transfer satisfied the witch, and she didn't want to waste any more of His Highness's time with her tenderness.

With a dry mouth from dehydration, Medea slowly dragged her feet through the palace, wanting to go to the kitchen to get some water.

Through the door of the study, she saw the black-haired youth sitting at the central desk, reading the towering pile of books by the cool moonlight.

His Highness, reading, killing devils, and still finding time to replenish her energy... truly diligent day and night.

Thinking of Kratos's diligence, compared to her own laziness, Medea couldn't help but feel a pang of shame.

She brushed her thin, slightly messy and torn black fabric, slowly and quietly walked over.

Looking at the youth reading in the moonlight, Medea covered her heart, her gaze inadvertently becoming infatuated.

But...

There seemed to be a strange, musky fragrance in the air, vaguely familiar and arousing.

This... this is...

Did seeing His Highness... cause her body to instinctively react?

No, no!

The witch vigorously shook her head, trying to wake herself up.

Medea, oh Medea, how could you be so lazy! Hasn't His Highness's nightly affection satisfied you?

She didn't want to be a burden to Kratos.

Perhaps she should consult the teacher and learn some magic to calm her mind?

Sensing Medea's arrival.

Kratos set down the books, ran his hand through his smooth black hair, gesturing for Hecate not to stop, and lifted his gaze, smiling gently at Medea.

"...Can't sleep, Medea?"

The young king's gentle voice seemed to possess a certain magic, causing the witch's voluptuous thighs to begin to rub against each other.

Patience... Patience, Medea...

"Did... Did you see teacher, Your Highness?"

The soft, musky fragrance pervading the room caused Medea's voice to involuntarily tremble with embarrassment.

"Teacher... " Kratos pondered for a moment, "Should be replenishing energy right now, shouldn't she?"

"Replenishing energy...?" Medea nodded knowingly.

Hecate occasionally took the form of the Darkness Devil to go out and slaughter devils, releasing her repressed cruelty and replenishing her energy at the same time.

And she had reminded her not to follow and see her bloodthirsty appearance.

"Then... please remember to rest early, Your Highness."

Even though she knew that Kratos stayed up all night every day.

Medea still voiced her concern.

"Alright."

With a gentle nod and smile from the young king.

The witch blushed slightly, slightly bowed, and then retreated.

"Mm... Gulp... Gluck..."

The wandering shadows in the library separated the sounds emitted by the Goddess from under the desk.

Raising her head, her gaze lowered, the deep red and amber eyes instantly met.

Kratos looked at the alluring face of the woman in front of him, a few strands of black hair stuck to the corner of his mouth, noticed by Hecate, and then licked into her crimson lips, her eyes full of charm seemed endless.

"You are indeed replenishing energy..." Kratos smiled, "I wouldn't lie to Medea."

Hecate, on the other hand, simply clicked her tongue in response.

"Gluck..."

Rubbing Hecate's alluring face, Kratos picked up the book, flipped to the next page of the grimoire, and continued his late-night teaching and learning by the cool moonlight.

...

[With the aid of Hecate's shadow, even in front of Medea, she couldn't perceive her teacher enjoying her lover.]

[Under your day and night toil, Hecate's originally struggling energy reserve in Hell has been rapidly increasing, with enough accumulation to support her releasing dozens of grand spells.]

[The devil blood pool in the laboratory has been absorbed by you, compared to the level before being thrown into Hell, the power driven by your magical energy has grown immensely, reaching ten times the original level.]

[After understanding that learning medicine couldn't save the Greeks, Medea's shadow magic gradually improved.]

[As cunning as she is, she completely abandoned the practice of healing magic and, under Hecate's guidance, swiftly intensified her offensive capabilities.]

[For her own advancement, Medea rubbed her hands together in excitement... right now, if she were to return to Sparta, regardless of her voluptuous figure or her combat prowess in magic, she could even suppress the combined efforts of Caenis and Atalanta, seizing the crown of the mistress of the harem.]

[Unfortunately... the trophy named Kratos had long been grasped day and night by Hecate's hands, and poor Medea was played between the applause by her teacher, reduced to a delectable side dish served with your daily meals.]

[As a goddess, Hecate really couldn't bring herself to tell her disciple that she was crazily sneaking bites of her offerings every day, so you let Hecate handle it... rather, in this situation, Hecate could more effectively suppress her devil-like appetite.]

[It's been six months since you were thrown into Hell, which translates to a full five years in reality, and your accumulation has not yet reached the pinnacle, making you feel that procrastination is no longer an option.]

A chilly mist hung over the inky surface of the river, sending shivers through the black-haired Kratos, who stood at the edge of this Stygian river, chilling even the depths of Hell.

Behind Kratos, two voluptuous witches, their graceful curves enveloped in veils, followed faithfully at the side of the wise king. One with purple hair exuded elegance and allure, while the other with black hair emanated poise and charm.

They were ready to set off, to cross the Styx and venture into the deepest realms of Hell.

"Levitation magic won't work here, Kratos." 

Hecate gazed at the tranquil waters before her.

"This river, steeped in the fear and humanity evil for millennia, is teeming with such surging power that it can disrupt any spell, even magic directly connected to the root will be weakened. It would weaken them beyond recognition."

Hecate sighed, even as the goddess, she had no means to deal with this river.

If it weren't so difficult to handle, why would Hades, the king of the underworld, have to resort to his own slumber to suppress this realm?

Kratos raised his gaze, peering across the river to the thick walls towering like mountains on the opposite bank.

"It's been measured, teacher."

In Hecate's slightly astonished expression, Kratos continued...

"The width of the Styx is approximately... twenty-three thousand meters."

"Your vision... is this good? The mist can obscure even clairvoyance."

"Aatrox is assisting me."

"The vanguard of the wandering star... indeed, the devouring nature of the vanguard's civilization is the most effective countermeasure against the rules of the Inner Sea of the Planet."

Hecate was amazed at this... humans coexisting with the vanguard of the wandering star was a phenomenon even her wisdom couldn't comprehend.

"Foreign objects from other worlds, yet able to form contracts with you for symbiotic existence, is nothing short of a miracle."

The mysteries surrounding Kratos were more numerous than the stars in the sky...

He used to be quite cute when Zeus held him in his arms.

Now, however, he looked so fierce... so fierce that Hecate couldn't help but be captivated by it, unable to look away.

"So, I can make the jump."

Kratos closed his eyes, silently calculating.

Despite the Styx's strong energy suppression, physics still applied... just over ten kilometers, and his energy-driven body could make a running jump to reach the other side.

Hmm... quite a rough approach.

Hecate clicked her tongue in disbelief.

"No wonder it's you, Kratos."

Looking at Kratos' well-proportioned and sturdy figure, Hecate wondered what came to mind, her face showing a slight blush.

"What about us when you're gone?"

Kratos shook his head.

"I can go alone, teacher."

"Huh?"

The two witches exchanged a glance, shaking their heads almost instinctively.

Hecate raised her hand, pointing to her face.

"Do you find me, a goddess, burdensome? Then what's the point of all these days you spent... replenishing my knowledge? Didn't you intend to take us with you from the beginning?"

"You can carry us over." Medea added.

"...No." Kratos shook his head. "Medea, your physical strength can't handle such rapid speeds, and I can't release toughened magic above the Styx."

Upon hearing this, Medea's gaze dropped with disappointment.

Hecate was fine, being a goddess, she could withstand all sorts of trials and tribulations without fear of injury.

And when mana transfering with Medea, Kratos always restrained his strength, lest their tender moments turned into a blood-splattered execution ground.

Kratos shifted his gaze, smiling at Hecate.

"Please... take care of Medea."

Tuck.

"..."

The furrowed brow of the black-haired Kratos was gently poked by the goddess.

Although he knew she couldn't possibly be harmed, Hecate refrained from using too much force, Kratos was satisfied as long as she showed affection.

"Oh, so now I've become a bodyguard for your little witch, Kratos."

Hecate remarked to Kratos without any hint of annoyance, casting a glance at Medea before gently stroking her disciple's hair, embracing the blushing Medea in her arms.

"No, scratch that, she's grown into a full-fledged witch by now."

A wry smile appeared on Kratos's face, he had indeed considered this... heading to the underworld, he didn't know what kind of turmoil it might cause, but with Hecate's energy overflowing, she could take care of Medea well.

"Don't even think about abandoning your teacher and wife, Kratos. If you don't feed them for a few days, someone might go mad..."

Yes, that was also a dilemma.

Kratos's expression momentarily froze.

Hecate was being showered with his various attentions every day, causing Kratos to almost forget... this goddess of the dark moon also had a devilic side.

If he left, there would be no outlet for Hecate's pent-up frustrations... the Darkness Devil might come out again.

Leaving Medea by Hecate's side would be dangerous.

Kratos rubbed his forehead, he didn't know how long it would take for him to come back. Killing Hades would inevitably involve a fierce battle.

In Hecate's arms, Medea slowly raised her head.

"What do you mean by 'not feeding'? Teacher-"

"Silly child..." Hecate rubbed Medea's face, "Can you handle a day without Kratos replenishing your mana?"

"T-Teacher!"

Blushing, Medea buried her face in Hecate's broad breast, she had to admit... her teacher was indeed very considerate of her in every way!

Kratos clicked his tongue.

This guy, can you really let this slide?

Who will be the one unable to bear it in the end, Kratos and the goddess both knew.

"So, do you have a solution?"

Kratos understood Hecate's implied meaning.

"Hehe..." Hecate chuckled charmingly, "Now you know who your teacher is, right?"

Kratos nodded vigorously, after all, whenever Hecate heard this title during energy replenishment, she would get excited and tremble, turning it into a kind of fun game.

The goddess of the dark moon gazed at the serene river's surface, smiling.

"Let's call a boat, Kratos."

"A boat?" Kratos seemed to realize something, "Charon... Is that ferryman of the Styx still alive?"

Nowadays, the area around the underworld was filled with all sorts of monsters and devils, if it weren't for Kratos having powerful strength, he would have been swallowed alive long ago.

"Yes, Charon's condition isn't great, but he's still alive... He's still ferrying souls across the Styx, even though there are no more souls for him to ferry now, after all, no spirit dares to leave the underworld..."

Hecate sighed with emotion.

"At least there's Hades with Thanatos trying to maintain order in the underworld, but hell is a chaotic jungle."

"How can we find Charon?"

"He's avoided sight by sharing some of Hades' contamination, but... flesh and blood can attract devils."

Saying so, Hecate smiled and rolled up her sleeves, revealing her arms.

Kratos understood what she wanted to do and firmly grasped Hecate's hand.

"Let me handle this, teacher."

After all, he would lose a lot of bodily fluids from Hecate every day, and a drop of essence was worth ten drops of blood.

Kratos scratched his index finger with his nail, causing a slight crack to appear on the skin, swiftly repairing itself.

His physical condition now was indeed too strong... other than himself, there were hardly any divine weapons or techniques that could cause him harm.

Kratos controlled a drop of blood to tremble and seep out, dripping into the river of the underworld before him.

Drip... Drip...

In an instant, the rich crimson color spread out, almost staining the deep, ink-like river entirely scarlet.

With just a drop of his magical essence, Kratos transformed the entire drop of blood into a pure mana pool.

Without this level of proficiency, it wouldn't be possible to replenish Hecate so thoroughly every day.

The purest human blood, with its alluring fragrance, slowly dissipated along the banks of the Styx.

The goddess delicately sniffed, If it was before, she would have returned to her devil form immediately... however, at this moment, not a single drop of saliva dripped from the corners of Hecate's mouth.

It didn't feel... as appetizing as Kratos' essence.

This level couldn't stimulate Hecate's appetite.

The pure energy she replenished every day was much more than this, she didn't care about such a small amount of blood.

However... it was like a jackal catching the scent of fresh blood.

In just a few breaths, countless devils with names from the distant land behind the three.

Kratos turned around, smiled, and scanned the devils.

He saw the face of the dark-haired youth from afar.

The devils rushing towards them stumbled for a moment, as if they had seen a ghost, then immediately began to flee desperately.

"Shit! This is a trap!"

"Fuck, it's Kratos! Let's scram!"

"Smart move, saves me from trouble. Not interested in killing you today."

The devils attracted by the blood dispersed in a commotion.

In Medea's bright and admiring eyes.

Kratos slowly withdrew his gaze.

Suddenly.

The blood-soaked river water in front of them began to ripple.

"Hmm?"

Hecate stared at the mist on the distant surface of the river, then glanced at the anomaly in front of her, tilting her head in confusion.

"Wait a minute, where's Charon?"

This wasn't a sign of the ferryman coming.

"Haha... this pure energy! So delicious! So sweet! Whose blood is this? Never mind! I'm going to eat you! Didn't expect it, did you? Kratos! I'm fucking resurrected again!"

A hoarse, frantic laughter of a woman echoed from the river in front of them.

Among the three on the shore, with somewhat bewildered expressions.

A dripping wet, naked, scarred black-haired woman climbed out of the river's edge.

She absorbed the blood swirling in the river of the underworld, where countless souls and screams lingered, as if layers of terrifying shadows shrouded people's souls in her amber eyes. It was the horror of a fierce battle.

"Huh... finally resurrected, huh?"

Kratos slowly crouched down, waved at the dazed black-haired woman in front of him, and greeted her with a smile.

"Long time no see, Ares."

"..."

She suddenly tried to crawl back, wanting to jump back into the river of the underworld.

Splash...

Kratos immediately grabbed her face, lifting Ares out of the water, tossing her onto the shore like a flopping dead fish.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck!"

Ares shakily got up, just resurrected as a devil from the river of the underworld, at this moment, she was at her weakest.

However, even so, she still had the unblemished dignity of the Olympus God of War!

With a sound like tearing flesh.

The body of the black-haired woman suddenly began to swell, expand, and grow taller, with countless skulls embedded in her skin.

Behind her, thousands of devil warriors spread their ferocious shadows one after another.

Her delicate face was suddenly covered with a mask of bones, and her eye sockets, hollow and bleeding, overflowed with scarlet and brutal light.

In the void, a mournful cry seemed to spread like tears.

"Don't underestimate me! Kratos!"

Amidst the devils, Ares, the war god, manifested her brutal form in hell.

"I, Ares, am not a fucking trash!"

In the devilic roar of war.

Kratos activated his demonic form, and with a light swing, unleashed a punch.

Boom!

The violent force surged like a meteor, instantly pulverizing Ares' devilically robust body into a puddle of flesh.

Blood sprayed.

Ares looked bewildered... at the huge cavity in her chest.

Plop.

The skeletal figure collapsed suddenly, and from a pile of wet and slippery entrails, a still somewhat substantial body of the black-haired woman fell out.

"What a second-rate loser..."

Kratos kicked aside the intestines at his feet, walked over, grabbed Ares' face, and lifted her up again.

He sneered mockingly.

"Ares... you, who crawled out of the Styx, truly deserve the title of a lowlife."

"How... how can you... still become so strong? Much stronger than before, ten times stronger than before?!"

Facing such instant defeat.

She uttered incoherent and pitiful words, like a throat being torn apart.

"You're clearly just a... just a... just a human!!!"

"This has nothing to do with lowlifes." Kratos smiled, cracked his neck with a crisp sound, and said, "You're just trash, you don't understand what power is."

"Fuck you! I'm not trash! Let me go!"

Ares struggled like a fish, but Kratos casually threw her to the ground, then stomped on her face with a guttural sound.

"How should we deal with... this, teacher?"

Medea looked stunned at Ares' ugly appearance.

Clearly, the opponent who had struggled bitterly before now appeared as pitiful as a dog, instantly defeated at Kratos' hands.

Too... too strong...

Hecate shook her head, sighing deeply.

She wasn't familiar with Ares, so she didn't have much sentiment.

Kratos had become excessively strong, and Ares had just been resurrected as a devil. This outcome didn't surprise her at all.

"You've killed her, but she will resurrect again, Kratos..."

Hecate shook her head.

"Ares, she has completely embraced the concept of a devil, merging with the War Devil."

"Hecate, the goddess of the dark moon..."

Feeling the cold and silent aura emanating from the black-haired witch beside her.

As a devil herself, Ares instantly recognized her identity.

An inexplicable grimace appeared on the black-haired woman's face.

Even she, slow as she was, finally understood.

"So that's it. Zeus has long expected Athena and them to betray..."

"That's right."

Kratos nodded, smiling.

"So, you're the clown pushed out to be used as a pawn, Ares."

A tremor ran through Ares' body.

She shuddered, closing her eyes.

"My luck... is indeed terrible, but it doesn't matter how many times I fail. I can resurrect. I just need to win once."

"Grr... kill me! Kratos!"

Kratos pondered wondering why the atmosphere felt like he was some evil villain...

Oh, well, in terms of positioning, he actually was, so it didn't matter.

"Resurrection is indeed troublesome."

Hearing the playful words in front of her.

Ares slowly opened her eyes.

Only to see a sinister crack forming at the corner of the dark-haired youth's mouth.

"When I was in Sparta, I said..."

"...That I would twist your head off and stuff it somewhere, right?"

"Correct, here's your reward."

"Grrr~"

The hellish god of war Ares let out a strange cry, trembling all over, as if she had turned into a sieve.

At this moment, Kratos, in Ares' eyes, was a million times scarier than Zeus! A billion times more terrifying!

Crack...

Accompanied by the sound of flesh and bone tearing.

A violent pain that shook her very core suddenly spread through Ares' nerves, causing her to let out a piercing scream.

Her head was instantly pulled off by Kratos, held in his hand, sustained by pure energy.

"How does it feel to be treated equally?"

Ares joked with Vergil's head before.

Now, Kratos was about to return tenfold.

He kicked over Ares' headless body, aimed her head at her crotch.

"Ares! Do you know if your fucking ass is clean?!" Kratos smiled wickedly and said, "Now, I'm going to stuff it in! Do you think you can endure this ultimate humiliation?!"

"Kratos, you can't... you can't do this... you can't be this cruel!"

Ares' head frantically shook, emitting a heart-wrenching roar.

"I'll talk! I'll tell you everything you want to know! You're Zeus's son! That's why he protects you! Zeus wants you to kill him!"

"I fucking knew it."

"And... my terminal! My ship is still floating in orbit around Greece! I can give that to you!"

"That's more like it..."

Using flames to clean up the bloodstains, Kratos slowly lowered the hand holding the head.

Ares breathed a long sigh of relief.

Of course, she couldn't do that, it was just a bluff... Stall for time.

Whether Kratos killed her or took her head, Ares didn't care! As long as she wasn't shoved into her fucking ass, anything goes!

However...

In Ares' trembling gaze.

Kratos pointed at the still warm headless body on the ground and smiled at Hecate.

"Teacher, help me preserve this, for future use."

Hecate shook her head, utilizing the imaginary number space to immerse Ares' headless body in shadow.

Compared to Kratos' methods, the punishment Prometheus suffered seemed like child's play.

After tangling her hair a few times, Kratos strapped Ares' head to his waist.

The Olympian god of war trembled, closing her eyes.

This... was really troublesome.

Along the blood-stained banks.

In the distant cold mist, attracted by the scent of blood, the ferryman slowly approached the river Styx.

Enveloped in a dark cloak, a face obscured by shadows, a dry and withered hand grasped the decaying oar. Beneath the hood, countless eerie eyes seemed to flicker with sinister gazes.

Charon, the ferryman of the Styx, slowly docked the boat at the riverbank.

"Respected Hecate, the goddess of the dark moon."

The ferryman, with a face shrouded in shadows, emitted a hoarse and indistinct voice.

"Do... do you wish to cross into the Underworld?"

"Myself and my two disciples..." Hecate nodded. "Three."

Charon slowly lifted his head. Beneath the cloak, countless grotesque eyeballs, dripping with pus and blood, cast chilling glances, scanning the faces of Kratos and Medea.

"Respected goddess of the dark moon, Hecate, it's my honor to ferry you."

"But... these two, fare."

Charon rasped.

"To sacrifice to me, the flesh and blood of two humans."

Hearing this, Kratos couldn't help but frown.

This grotesque form... indeed, was this ferryman of the Underworld nearing complete devilization?

The situation in the Underworld... was not optimistic.

Actually, that didn't matter, Kratos could crush him with one hand. But this fare...

"This is hell, where am I supposed to find humans to sacrifice to you?"

Kratos couldn't possibly sacrifice humans to Charon, he just wanted to hear the ferryman's response.

Charon's countless stacked eyeballs slowly turned towards the dark-haired youth, staring for a while.

"I know you... Kratos."

He hoarsely, calmly said,

"The mortal who tore apart Ares. Your name echoes through the mortal world, the Underworld, and Olympus, but fare is an unbreakable rule."

"Or rather..."

Charon's gaze shifted towards Kratos' right hand.

"Out of respect for the goddess Hecate, I'll accept your... two fingers."

Kratos remained silent for a moment.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

"Charon, do you know where Ares is now?"

In the ferryman's perplexed gaze.

Kratos reached out, slowly lifting Ares' head from his waist.

"Come, say hello."

"..."

"...?"

"So, do you now understand... who I am?"

Kratos pointed to his own face, stepped onto the boat, and smiled brightly.

"Fare? That's the rule?

"My rules... are the rules."

"Charon... He can swim."

Hecate said softly.

"He's the only one who can swim in the River Styx."

In the almost stagnant gaze of the ferryman of the river Styx.

The bloated, muscular crimson devil chuckled as he grasped his head, tossing it into the cold river. Then, propelling his boat, he departed with a flourish.