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That handsome, that pure white, that detached from the mortal world, that fellow who was constantly proclaiming his own existence and, from beginning to end, was oppressing this world.
Verethragna, his name, his title.
Perhaps not an overly grand or universally known name, but the power and wisdom bestowed upon the master of Zoroastrianism, Zarathustra, also originated from him.
God of Warfare, God of Victory, or something else.
In short, an existence that ordinary mortals could only look up to.
Even descending in the form of a Heretic God, he was not a fellow anyone could confront.
And at this moment, he spoke softly, indifferent words Spitting from those pale lips.
"It was you who slew Melqart, was it not."
He spoke faintly, without a trace of anger in his tone, merely a slight hint of regret.
"Slaying him while he was severely injured, though it cannot be considered entirely honorable, victory is victory, nothing else. I shall tentatively acknowledge your strength, O Godslayer."
Immediately after, his delicate face was filled with a hearty smile.
"Well then, you shall be my opponent, King of Heroes Gilgamesh. You shall replace Melqart and let me, the ever-victorious, briefly glimpse the scenery of defeat."
It was an arrogant, extremely impersonal tone, tinged with some fervor.
And the youth's pure white, delicate, and pretty face was also filled with a dense battle intent.
Not because of enmity, nor because of any conflict of interest.
Merely for battle, merely to enjoy the process of battle, and that victory and defeat.
This Heretic God thus threw down the gauntlet, a duel that could not be avoided.
At this moment, whether it was those other great knights with extremely strong capabilities, or that so-called revered witch of Sardinia, Lucrezia, they couldn't help but bow their bodies.
They were all awed by the majesty of the Heretic God; this was also a matter of course.
However, two people were exceptions.
Lilianna, who had just obtained the 'Godslaying' authority from Melqart, was surrounded by a golden radiance, struggling to hold on.
And that King of Heroes, however, looked at Verethragna with ease, a savage smile lightly outlining his lips.
"Melqart, you say? For that mongrel who destroyed this King's territory and slaughtered this King's people, this King will not have a shred of pity."
It was the same arrogant tone as always, yet it was constantly disseminating the air of a King to the surroundings.
"And also."
Then this King, this King named Gilgamesh, a savage smile faintly appearing on his face, his crimson serpentine pupils also slightly opening.
"To dare stand above this King, mongrel, you are audacious indeed!"
An unquestionable roar, and a sonorous voice, echoed in this empty courtyard.
Immediately after, were waves of golden ripples.
Those golden ripples bloomed rapidly in the air, like the King's wrath, bursting outwards with a silvery light.
The Chains of Heaven, such an Anti-Divine Noble Phantasm, lunged towards Verethragna's body.
However,
It was completely ineffective.
The usual situation, where the body relied upon by the Heretic God was completely sealed, did not occur.
Because, looking at such silvery chains pouncing towards him, Verethragna couldn't help but reveal a brilliant smile.
Then he murmured.
"Fear those who possess wings! Both the evil and the strong fear me who possesses wings. My wings shall bring curses upon you! The evil ones cannot strike me!"
Such a long incantation was clearly uttered from his mouth in an instant.
Then, a phoenix-like illusion slowly emerged between heaven and earth.
The Eastern God of War, one of the Ten Incarnations, the Phoenix, from its slender neck, emitted a sharp, ear-piercing shriek.
That was indubitable speed, absolute speed.
The air itself trembled for it, a sound like an explosion – that was the sound of the atmospheric wall named the sound barrier being easily torn apart.
Unquestionable speed burst forth from that body, which could barely be considered petite.
Immediately after, as if he had never existed, he instantly left his original spot.
And those Chains of Heaven, however, were merely late in arriving.
"Oh my, oh my, has the will to fight been ignited already?"
Those were words as if encouraging something, praising something.
"As expected of the Demon King who slays gods, as expected of the fellow who bears the title of the Most Ancient King. Then, let us have a good battle!"
It was still that stiff, aged tone, as if an antique just excavated from a mausoleum.
No, perhaps they were pretty much the same thing.
"I am the Victor!"
It was still that leisurely tone that Gilgamesh detested, but the dense battle intent within seemed about to surge forth.
"I am the one who grasps all victory!"
What followed was a clear voice, carrying an air that brooked no refusal.
"Submit to me, O lowly Demon King!"
It was a youth with a slight smile, a youth with a provocative smile on his face.
Immediately after, an unparalleled pressure, like a tsunami, fiercely slammed onto Gilgamesh.
"Mongrel, are you insulting this King!"
The King's roar came through clearly, that wrath truly inspiring awe.
Without any surprise, or rather, as a matter of course, the one named Youth, one of the Ten Incarnations, had no effect.
Perhaps for Gilgamesh, who was of the same spiritual rank and possessed divinity, such a trick was truly meaningless.
But, in a sense, it indeed had an effect.
At least, that King, just as Verethragna had thought, became enraged.
"If I do not cut you, mongrel, into pieces, and then throw you to the outside of this world, it will truly be difficult to quell this King's wrath!"
However, quite the contrary, after the extreme rage, that King instead became incomparably rational.
Or rather, he had gotten serious.
"That's more like it, that's more like it! That arrogant look, not putting your enemies in your eyes, who are you showing it to!"
Verethragna laughed loudly, his tone carrying an unprecedented excitement.
He slowly descended from the sky, then quietly looked at Gilgamesh, his handsome yet pure white, delicate little face filled with an unparalleled, fiery battle intent.
"That's more like it, King of Heroes, Gilgamesh."
His voice, as if chanting, struck heavily into everyone's hearts.
"Ignite all your battle intent, unleash all your strength, and then, defeat me, defeat the Eastern God of War, the undefeated Verethragna, let me taste a long-lost defeat."
It was an arrogant, savage smile that carried a hint of desire within its peerlessness.
"With our blood, with our lives, let us draw down the curtain and play the finale for this renewed, mythical war!"