As metal shells rapidly took shape, storm clouds gathered in the clear sky for miles around. Bolts of lightning struck down one after another, wrapping around the enormous metal spheres and forming ring after ring of closed circuits.
The atmosphere suddenly sank. The Magnetic Field was chaotic yet orderly, giving rise to terrifying air pressure that ravaged the surrounding area.
Even the gods watching from the summit of Mount Olympus were shaken by that soul-trembling sense of dread.
A single heavy sword had unleashed such devastating power. If all those shells came crashing down...
The outcome was easy to imagine. The mountains would cease to exist, and Ares would be blasted into pulp. Even if his divinity remained indestructible, his grievous injuries would leave him in a long slumber.
Worse still, he had wagered the authority of "war" on this battle. Once he fell asleep, he might never wake again.
Crackle! Crackle!
The Electromagnetic Cannon finished loading. With a fierce wave of Russell's hand, searing beams erupted. They went from stillness to high-speed impact over such a short acceleration distance that the gods could rack their brains and still fail to grasp the principle behind it.
It was clearly just lightning. Why did adding metal produce such an effect? And judging by Russell's calm expression, he did not seem to have exerted much effort.
Why exactly?
Zeus was pondering the same question. As a god who controlled thunder and lightning, he silently memorized Russell's movements, intending to study them closely after the battle.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—
The beams heated the atmosphere through friction, leaving dazzling trails behind them. The air suddenly shrieked, several seconds late to the sound.
Then that shrill wail was drowned out by an unending, ear-splitting roar.
One terrifying high-temperature shell after another fell, plowing crimson