The night was still heavy.
The ruins of Rhodes Island whispered in the wind.
The once glorious city now consisted only of broken walls and ruins, with the air filled with the scent of ashes and blood. The majestic figure of the Colossus stood silently under the sky.
The shadow of the Colossus of the Sun God covered most of Rhodes Port.
Every movement it made caused an earthquake-like rumble, grinding more buildings into dust, and everywhere on the ground, Spartan soldiers and Greek soldiers caught in the melee suffered.
Yet it was the civilians who died the most, their bodies lying quietly among the ruins, as if still voicing how fragile the life of ordinary people is under the war of gods and men.
Ian arrived too late.
And couldn't save any of it.
Kratos felt no compassion towards the civilians, standing there like a statue forged by war. The scars under his bald head were like brands, the deep scar at the corner of his right eye seemed to speak of past madness. His bronze skin was covered with battle marks, muscles knotted like rocks.
Every inch engraved with the will of a Spartan Warrior.
Ian also knew this character.
Kratos was once an ordinary Spartan warrior, deceived by War God Ares in a desperate battle, sacrificing his soul in exchange for power. When he discovered Ares had used him to slaughter his innocent wife and daughter, the flames of revenge consumed his reason. He killed Ares and ascended to the throne of the War God of Olympus.
However, it did not end there. Kratos found himself shackled by the chains of sin—the ashes of the innocents he killed clung to him.
A constant reminder of his past madness.
Now.
As Kratos numbed himself with war, he was ensnared by Zeus's plot, trapped in an inescapable abyss on this island.
Now.
Ian wanted the blood of the Godslayer, and Zeus readily agreed because he intended to kill Kratos here, so using Kratos's blood to dismiss Ian was an easy matter for Zeus.
"Someone wants you dead." In this desolate land, Zeus stood atop the Crown of the Sun God statue, overlooking the battlefield below, and suddenly spoke to Kratos.
The voice was hoarse yet carried an irresistible pressure.
As he raised his arm, pointing to a shadow in the distance. Kratos turned sharply, his gaze like a knife, penetrating the darkness. His pupils slightly contracted, seeing a vague figure hiding within—a small boy, frail in stature, with an eyes that held an unworldly calm and insight.
"A boy?"
Kratos squinted, but soon, he sneered.
"Do you think I would believe such lies?"
Of course Kratos didn't believe Zeus's words, especially since Zeus, under the guise of help earlier, caused him to lose his divine power, transferring all of it into that Olympus Sword.
Now, whatever Zeus said, Kratos would never believe—he did not hesitate, raising the Blade of Chaos, roaring as he rushed towards Zeus.
"You deceitful old fool! Your lies no longer deceive me!"
"Nothing but clumsy tricks."
Kratos spat out a mouthful of blood, the chains on the Blade of Chaos clattering. He was too familiar with Zeus's lies, just like the calluses in his palm. Muscle memory preceded thought, his body already springing forth like a taut catapult, dual blades crossing into a death cross, slashing at the Divine King on the Crown.
Ian stood at a distance, watching this scene, a trace of irritation rising in his heart.
"Why drag me into this?" he muttered under his breath, "That old man's heart is truly dirty."
But he did not interfere. He knew this was the destined battle between Kratos and Zeus, even if Kratos was no longer a god—ultimately, it was someone else's family affair.
The war Kratos caused led to so many civilian casualties.
He was not innocent himself.
Nor did he deserve Ian's intervention. Luckily, Zeus seemed to just be grumbling, not truly wanting to drive a wedge, merely using Ian to mock Kratos.
"Do you think you are still the War God?"
Facing Kratos's furious assault, Zeus neither dodged nor evaded, not even drawing a weapon. He merely stood still, allowing the Blade of Chaos to strike his divine body.
"Clang!"
The blade fell.
Yet it only left a shallow blood mark on Zeus's skin. That body remained invincible, like eternal stone. Just recently, Zeus had cunningly taken Kratos's divine power, demoting him completely to a mortal. Now, Kratos, though still possessing extraordinary combat instincts and will, could no longer endure a genuine divine attack.
"You're no longer a god." Zeus said coldly, a hint of pity in his eyes, also a hint of pleasure, "You can't even break through my skin's defense."
Kratos roared, swinging the blade again, but each attack seemed like a futile struggle.
Zeus slowly raised his hand, palm gripping, and the entire statue of the Sun God instantly came to life.
Standing tens of meters tall, made entirely of bronze, every inch seeped with ancient divine power. It suddenly raised its massive palm, slamming down fiercely towards Kratos!
Boom!!!
The ground shattered, dust flying, Kratos's entire body like a fallen leaf was slapped away, crashed heavily into the ruins, spewing a mouthful of blood.