"Deathstroke!!!"
The moment they met, Namor erupted with tremendous enthusiasm, letting out a hoarse, heart-rending shriek like a dying duck.
That was how acquaintances should be—warm when they met, especially on a battlefield.
But while he shrieked like a woman, his hands were anything but slow. He spun the twin-pronged trident, its shape like two Horned Serpents intertwined, and thrust it at Su Ming.
With a light step on the water, he burst from the surface. The little wings at his ankles beat at high frequency as he dragged a rolling wave behind him and charged at his enemy.
"Yes, that's the spirit." Deathstroke did not panic in the face of the incoming weapon. Instead, he smiled and crooked a finger. "First, shout my name. Then face your destiny."
Namor's combat strength in the past had been about on par with Steve's, but he looked quite lively today. He had probably received some sort of upgrade.
It was obvious from the Serpent Crown on his head alone. The sapphire was huge, round, and gave off a faint, eerie glow. If the Serpent Crowns worn by other Atlanteans were youth editions, then his was at least the PLUS version.
His flying speed had increased, now reaching sublight levels. Nothing else was apparent for the moment, but the trident in his hand was probably a divine artifact.
After all, completing quests for Serpent God Set came with rewards. Having read so many system novels in his previous life, Su Ming did not find it strange for a portable old grandpa to hand out a weapon. The trope was too familiar; he had long since gone numb to it.
Besides, divine artifacts differed from one another. Things from the Mystic Side naturally grew stronger the more mysterious they were. Take Su Ming's Cloak