Chapter 400

After quickly glancing over, I realized that it started at noon. The India Forces, which had been silent for a long time, launched a full-scale offensive. The most serious offensive was against Riverton in the north. Beowulf and Bear God, who were stationed there, were no match for them and were currently struggling to hold on.

Looks like it's my turn to appear--

"Woo-hoo!"

Before Novia could finish speaking, a loud wolf howl echoed from outside the room, resounding through the sky. Accompanying the howl, a wolf revealed itself at the window.

"Coti? What brings you here? Didn't I tell you to rest...?"

Tlaloc sighed as he looked at Coti, the Guardian God of the Indian, who had been seriously injured not long ago, and felt somewhat reluctant for it to go to the battlefield again.

But Novia, disguised as the First Sun, simply walked to the window and gently touched its head.

"Since we've come all this way, let's go to Riverton together, Coti."

"Woo-hoo!"

The Indian Guardian God responded in this way.

Earlier, in the dense forest not far away, Coti was resting, drinking shallow water from the river.

Fifth Sun, where are you? Are you still there, Protection over us?

To this day, we still haven't heard the sound of the Sun waiting.

Then, just as I was about to go to sleep, I smelled a faint, subtle scent.

And so it came with the wind, chasing the scent of the Sun that shines equally upon all things.

Riverton, in the northern part of the Americas.

If India Forces didn't care about 'dignity,' they should have been able to take over Riverton completely today.

Because the difference in combat power between the two sides was so obvious, Beowulf and the North America Divine Bear, who were the main forces influencing the course of the battle, were simply unable to withstand the onslaught of numerous Servant. However, apart from the legendary battle of Servant, it was also a battlefield where ordinary soldiers could die in just a few seconds.

"Save--"

Before they could even utter a sound, a spear thrown by an enemy would pierce their neck.

Because fear had spread among the Americas Allied Forces, they were simply unable to fight back.

Boom!

Beowulf and the bear were once again struck down on different lands, but no matter how many times they were struck down, the man and the god thought the same thing.

As long as we are alive, we can buy time for the soldiers to escape.

"Beowulf! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine..."

Beowulf waved to the soldiers who were closing in on him.

I've been knocked back to the back of the column! I need to get back to the front lines quickly, or the soldiers...

But as he stood up and was about to leave, he caught a glimpse of a young soldier staggering along, his stomach wound being protected by two other soldiers. The Norse hero gritted his teeth.

Children... even such young children are going to the battlefield... It's my fault, I failed to protect them!

However, since I am their commander, I must make amends! Even if it means burning my own Spirit Core!

Therefore, the man smiled heartily again, even with blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and pointed his thumb at himself, shouting:

"I'll cover your retreat! You must make a safe and successful withdrawal! Can you do it!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Did everyone hear that? From now on, we'll leave it to Beowulf and the others! Entrusting it to heroes and Deity like them will definitely be fine!"

A soldier shouted, "Then we can rest assured—"

The cold guns held by many soldiers were rubbing against their skin.

They did not believe that they, in their current state, could defeat the mythical figures from afar on a terrifying battlefield.

"It's good that you escaped..."

"... No."

Amid the retreating crowd, a soldier murmured.

"We live here, and many people fight to resist, to defeat the Monster who have transformed into Ancient Warrior. They have taken our lives and our land, and I thought that if this continued, all humanity on this land would be wiped out... Then President Sun King and his entourage appeared and protected us! I have made up my mind to follow them! I believe that as long as we fight to the end as they say, everything will be restored to normal..."

He shouldn't have cried, because this was on the battlefield, and he was a man, but he still couldn't help crying.

Is it because of deep-seated fear that the brain becomes distorted?

But no!!!

"How could we not Wrath! This war is utterly unreasonable and horrific! No matter how afraid and trembling we are, it cannot extinguish the fire of anger in our hearts!"

"It's the same now! I know that with your protection, we could escape! But isn't it clear that we have a better chance of winning this war if you're alive!?"

Even if we die, others will survive. This country! This land! That's what gives us a 'Future', isn't it?!

"Since both running away and fighting lead to the worst possible outcome, I'd rather choose Future where I can see the path ahead!"

Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, this voice pierced straight to the soul, and everyone understood perfectly well that even a slight delay meant death, and victory was impossible.

This is not a game. There is no map, no loot drops or respawn points. It is a brutal battlefield littered with corpses, a place of only death.

Death is the most fundamental thing. Regardless of one's spirit, the Flesh is that of an animal. The vast majority of people cannot escape the control of hormones. Survival is the goal of animals; as long as they live, that's enough.

As for how people survive, they will find reasons for themselves, and if the number is large enough, it can even form a culture.

However, the people who fought for resistance on this land, regardless of their reasons, eventually stopped and looked at Beowulf.

"Commander, this is the first time we have disobeyed your orders. This time, we will rely on ourselves to complete this retreat mission."

"You..."

In Beowulf's eyes, although the figures of the crowd were not as tall as him, they seemed very reliable.

Because standing up to fight is an incredibly difficult thing.

This inevitably brought back memories from many years ago.

In the South port of Scandinavian Island, the sea breeze seems to blow eternally.

When he chose to slay the dragon in his old age, all his men fled when he faced the dragon. However, there were still trembling Warrior who insisted on staying. Thus, although there were no friends to save him at this moment, they were like his friends now.

And so, in his heart, or perhaps in his mind, a voice echoed in the blond man's ears: 'Although your strength is far from what it was in your prime, you are by no means powerless, Beowulf.'

Therefore, Beowulf patted his chest vigorously and laughed loudly.

"Alright! You brats! Don't underestimate me! Before I became a commander, I was a king who wrestled with that King of the Huns!!!"

A few seconds later, on the other side of the battlefield, a Jalandhara, gripping a bear by the neck, glanced at Beowulf, who was charging forward again.

"That guy is yours, Arjuna."

"Yes."

Without hesitation, the divinely appointed hero raised his Gandiva and shot it at Beowulf, whose entire body was bursting with Od.

However, Arjuna sensed something subtle about the power emanating from Beowulf, as if its very essence had been transformed.

... Is it some kind of Noble Phantasm or skill? Or perhaps, a blessing bestowed upon it by this continent?

In an instant, the hero, blessed by heaven, recalled memories from several months ago, memories from a certain wilderness.

In fact, Krishna thought Arjuna had come with him, but that wasn't the case. The person who summoned Arjuna was a soldier who had already died. Of course, since he was already dead when he appeared, Arjuna wasn't entirely sure.

Does this person possess the qualities of Master? Or is it this land responding to his lament?

But regardless, today's hero has chosen a path completely opposite to that soldier's wishes.

"You can't be distracted on the battlefield."

Beowulf, wielding his Hrunting, forcefully severed the hero's arrow, thus reaching him.

Are you burning yourself up?

"Haha, sometimes you have to do things like a king!"

Beowulf laughed loudly, "This is a place where one seeks death, Hell perfectly suited for me to end it all!"

"You can't do it; your power is still too great—"

"Hey kid, I'm not without power. Though I'm not as ancient as you, I've seen countless battles, so much death, so much love, so much tragedy."

The shirtless man reminisced about the great war that swept through the Mystery when he was alive, and couldn't help but reveal a tender, nostalgic expression.

"In the end, as long as people continue to fight according to their own will, just like now..."

He gazed at Arjuna, who remained silent, focused solely on raising his bow, and continued with certainty.

"I dare say that the era of heroes or mysterious rulers will end here. If those who bring disaster and extreme vicissitudes continue to devour the will of people today, then—"

The hoarse voice of the Norse hero echoed between heaven and earth, flying into the distance.

"Surely, the Sun of destruction will arrive."

At the same time.

"Wait! Karna, where are you going? Waaah--"

On the India Camp, the hero, who hadn't made a move yet, suddenly headed towards the battlefield. This prompted the Deity, who had also been silent, to shout and try to catch up. However, the god twisted his ankle gracefully and let out a soft "chirp" like a small animal.

"I'm sorry, God Ganesha, I've already made up my mind."

"I see... I see. After all, he's my grandfather, so I had no choice but to intervene..."

Ganesha murmured, "I suppose I won't be able to make a move for long..."

Karna, who had reached the doorway, stopped in his tracks upon hearing Ganesha's words.

"I have a great father, and I've met many people along my journey of growth, including my adoptive parents. I'm not bragging, but even after becoming Heroic Spirit, I've still been fortunate enough to meet many more people."

The hero who gave alms smiled gently, "This includes you, Ganesha, the Jalandhara, Vritra. It's truly a wonderful encounter, that we can all be together so beautifully. But I only want to do what I can be true to myself."

"Okay, alright then, I'll pray for you before I leave..."

Ganesha waved his hand, looking helpless.

She is the chief deity of India, therefore, any Ritual or ceremony in India must be performed by Sacrifice to Ganesha in order to ensure its success.

"Lord of the Himalayas, Grandfather, I pray to you from the bottom of my heart..."

"Please stop praying for me, God Ganesha."

Karna shook his head. "My destination this time is a place that goes against our direction."

"... What made you make this decision?"

Ganesha wasn't stupid; after hearing Karna's words, he naturally understood that Karna was going to help the Americas camp.

"God Ganesha, do you know that someone once told me, 'What you can take away is not just your own shadow, and what you leave behind is not just your own footprints'? And the person who said those words also did just that, so this is all I can do to respond to the mourning of this land. I'm sorry."

Heroes, Warrior, and people are all dying, just as in the epic of the Mahabharata, on the Kurukshetra, both sides brought thousands of deaths to the earth. Karna killed the son of the divinely ordained hero, and Arjuna also killed the son of the almsgiving hero.

As times change, everything shifts and even destiny vanishes.

"Hmm... alright, since you've made this choice, I won't force you. By the way, who said that to you? It sounds familiar."

"It is the god Kavia."

"Ah?"

Ganesha stared wide-eyed in disbelief. "Grandpa? Karna, you've met my grandfather? How come I don't know him?"

"When I was born, after my mother sent me away and before I was taken in by my adoptive parents, the god Kavia held me in his arms on the Ganges. Later, with his help, I met the best archer of our time Ekalavya, and we became friends."

"... I see. Thinking about it carefully, my grandfather's personality is quite normal."

The Ganesha thought for a moment and realized that compared to his maternal grandfather, it was his maternal grandmother Durga's personality that was truly frightening; she was just too strict.

"Indeed, therefore, I am proud of myself for those who embraced me, gave birth to me, raised me, and accompanied me, so--"

Karna glanced down, smiled, and then headed to the battlefield without hesitation.

"I will make the Sun rise once more from this mourning earth."