With both sides’ supporters egging them on, the battle was about to erupt.
Phainon was completely focused.
Facing an opponent unlike any before, his blood was boiling.
Mydei also put away his underestimation.
To be honest, Mydei had never thought much of Phainon at first.
Phainon would be very strong in the future, but the current Phainon was still just Phainon.
He lacked experience, lacked ambition, and the swordsmanship he had learned in his village was nothing special.
Aside from endless brute strength, he had none of a warrior’s bearing.
But after fighting him once, Mydei no longer thought that way.
Because Phainon’s combat skills improved far too quickly.
If combat skill were roughly divided according to military ranks, then when the fight first began, Phainon was a villager, completely unqualified to be called a warrior.
Yet after only five minutes of fighting, Phainon had been promoted to warrior.
After ten minutes, Phainon had become a squad leader.
After thirty minutes, Phainon had become a one-in-ten-thousand centurion, capable of serving as Mydei’s punching bag.
If the fight continued, how far would Phainon grow?
Mydei felt no pressure from being caught up to.
Instead, he felt the joy of meeting a worthy opponent.
Since childhood, Mydei had experienced countless battles.
Many people believed he had gained all his skill because he was “immortal.” But in reality, Mydei rarely lost.
After reaching adulthood, his immortal body had never even activated again.
Carrying the fate of all Kremnoan people on his shoulders, Mydei’s steps were heavy.
He never had any hobbies.
The only thing that brought him a little relief was the rest after battle.
Because at those times, he was practicing the highest ideal admired by all Kremnoan people.
He did not need to think about their future, nor worry whether they hated the path he had chosen for them.
But even that enjoyment was a luxury, because whenever he entered battle, the Kremnoan people charged alongside him.
War was not a game.
Mydei would not let the Kremnoan people die for nothing just to satisfy himself.
Now things were different.
Mydei had seen a possibility.
A possibility of enjoying the joy of battle without having to fight to the death.
Their eyes met.
Lake-blue and clear gold eyes shone at the same time.
Red-gold energy shot into the sky.
One resembled flames, the other crystal.
When they realized neither could intimidate the other, they both restrained their power at the same time.
In an instant, the stone slabs beneath their feet shattered, and they charged toward each other like cannonballs.
Everyone’s attention was drawn to the battle, and they could not help holding their breath.
Only Krateros, the second most important figure in Kremnos City, suddenly turned his head.
His sharp gaze pointed directly at Amos, who had just stepped into the Demigod Assembly Hall.
Although the game’s story never clearly explained it, Amphoreus actually possessed many complete systems of extraordinary power.
Aside from mortal skills such as alchemy, most extraordinary powers originated from the gods people worshipped.
The three Titans of Fate had neither form nor appearance and could only be contacted through specific rituals.
Therefore, their followers were called “Priests,” and could borrow divine power through prayers.
The three Titans of Foundation were the pillars of the world, so their “people” were born extraordinary, and each had the qualification to reach the Source.
The three Titans of Creation were closest to humanity, so their “attendants” could hear the teachings of the gods and understand the world.
The three Titans of Calamity embodied the world’s balance, so their “followers” could take what was excessive, return it to heaven and earth, and draw a share from it.
Krateros was a follower of Strife.
Through countless battles, he had practiced Strife’s ideals, and his physical abilities had long surpassed normal humans.
Using the same military-rank comparison, if Mydei was a marshal, then Krateros was his foremost general.
At that moment, senses nearly a hundred times sharper than normal allowed Krateros to clearly see Amos’s movements.
Amos slowly pulled a semi-transparent green crystal from his pocket.
To an ordinary person, the crystal’s quality was not impressive.
Though its color was clear, it contained many “cracks” and “cotton-like inclusions.” Unless it was made into beads, it would not be worth much.
But in Krateros’s eyes, it was different.
The battle instincts granted by Strife allowed him to sense the immense power contained within the crystal.
His microscope-level eyesight let him see the true nature of those so-called “cracks” and “cotton-like inclusions.” Layers upon layers of runes were woven together, firmly binding energy that should have dissipated.
That was the cotton-like inclusion.
Tiny magic formations were nested together, “tying up” the restless energy within the crystal like ropes.
That was the crack.
The crystal that looked so ordinary was actually a rather terrifying alchemical creation.
While analyzing it, Amos flicked his finger.
The crystal erupted with brilliant light.
Even under a hundredfold slowdown, it still moved as fast as an arrow released from a bow.
Krateros instinctively reached for the dagger at his waist.
In an instant, he calculated the crystal’s speed, trajectory, and exactly how much force would be needed to throw his dagger and intercept it.
This was his duty.
Not only to protect the prince, but also to protect the sanctity of the duel.
But just as his hand touched the dagger’s cord, a sudden chill made him look up.
At the far end of the Demigod Assembly Hall, a black-robed figure quietly disappeared into a corner.
It was that “demigod” who had destroyed Kremnos City through unreasonable power and taken away the Flame of Strife.
Krateros slowly lowered his eyes.
Even a demigod could not make him submit.
Only…
The prince had already begun cooperating with that person…
Although Krateros could not understand that decision at all, he ultimately did not make a move.
As his hundredfold senses shut down, the world in his eyes returned to normal.
The green crystal became a streak of light and arrived first at the point where the two fists were about to collide.
Then pure soul energy was converted into water vapor, instantly covering both men like a cloud.
The soft mass of vapor canceled most of the impact and pushed both of them backward more than ten meters, separating them to a relatively safe distance.
After doing all this, Amos did not look at the two fighters’ reactions first.
Instead, he glanced at Cyrene.
Cyrene met his eyes, tilted her head for a moment, then suddenly understood.
She quickly widened her eyes and put on a “You’re amazing!” expression.
Amos twitched the corner of his mouth.
Why did it feel like he was being treated like a child?
Cyrene smiled until her eyes curved into crescents.
Actually, she was not surprised at all.
Because in her heart, Amos had always been capable of anything~ The two people on the field broke free from the mist and turned around at the same time.
“Amos!” “You are…” Phainon looked very surprised, while Mydei seemed thoughtful.
This hunt against the Cleansers had been proposed by Khaslana, but what had actually been used in its execution was a special crystal chip.
Through this chip, one could specifically see the extraordinary traces left behind by alchemy.
And what had stopped them just now was a similar-looking crystal.
Seeing that the two had created such a huge commotion but barely suffered any injuries, Amos could not help sighing at how absurd Chrysos Heirs physiques were.
However, in his previous life he had personally experienced Cyrene’s physique.
It was powerful, but not to the point of cutting through metal like mud.
‘Could different Chrysos Heirs have different physiques?’ Various thoughts ran through Amos’s head, but his words came out smoothly.
“Gentlemen, how about stopping for now?
Your battle is causing too much disturbance and has already thrown the city into panic.” “Of course, I know one of you fights for Okhema’s justice and the other for Kremnos City’s honor.
Both of you have reasons to fight and neither is willing to give way easily.” “But before you start fighting again, I have a question.” “Justice requires the judgment of people’s hearts.
Honor also requires the witness of the people.” “You two are enjoying yourselves fighting here, but do the rest of Kremnos City and the ordinary citizens of Okhema know why you’re fighting?” Just a few sentences left the two men stunned despite their overwhelming fighting spirit.
It was true.
Neither of them was fighting for himself, and neither fought for pure profit.
They were fighting for something much more intangible, belief.
If Mydei wanted Kremnoan customs and honor to stop being slandered by Okhema’s people, then all of Okhema had to see the Kremnoan people’s beliefs.
Phainon’s thoughts were not so heavy, but justice was, by definition, public justice.
Without public discussion, how could there be justice?
The two exchanged a glance and both understood Amos’s meaning.
There was no point fighting like this.
Although the Senate assassination had indeed been part of Khaslana’s plan, with Mydei entering the situation himself and Phainon helping push events along, their falling out afterward was not an act.
The two brothers genuinely disagreed over how the Cleansers should be handled.
But they had focused on creating emotion and forgotten to convey it.
Now the people of Okhema only knew that someone was fighting in the Demigod Assembly Hall.
They had no idea why.
It was equivalent to putting on a show for nothing.
Seeing that the two had been persuaded, Amos continued, “In that case, why not first execute the unquestionable ringleaders, publicly display their crimes for the people to examine, and then discuss how to deal with the remaining Cleansers?” “Since this incident began with Lord Mydei’s assassination attempt, the method of discussion should follow Kremnoan customs.” “Which means…
what you were just doing.” Amos smiled at the two of them with the expression of someone enjoying a good show.
“A duel.
Whoever wins gets the final say.” “Good!”, Phainon agreed immediately.
Mydei, however, stared at Amos for quite a while before agreeing.
Because he kept feeling as though he was being calculated against.
Khaslana’s plan had only extended to capturing the Cleansers.
Yet this man who had provided the alchemical chips seemed to have already predicted that Phainon would fight him after the arrests.
The reason for stopping the battle was impossible to refute, and the proposed solution was logical and complete.
It was obvious he had prepared these words in advance.
But…
What exactly did Amos want?
From an alchemist’s perspective, Amos should have wanted the Cleansers’ alchemy, since he had provided the chips to help capture them.
Yet on the most important issue, how to deal with the Cleansers, Amos did not say a single word.
Mydei secretly became more alert and thought about reminding Krateros later to be twice as wary of this alchemist.
However, he quickly gave up on that idea.
After the Cleansers’ crimes were publicly announced, Mydei and Phainon arranged another duel.
This time, the battle was held outside the city, and countless people came to watch after hearing the news.
This time, Mydei truly fought with all his strength.
He did not intend to give Phainon any chance to steal techniques through observation.
He intended to directly crush Okhema’s “hero.” But what Mydei had not expected was that in the end, he himself would be the one who wanted the battle to stop before things went too far.
——— The battle lasted an entire day and night.
Watching Phainon, who suffered worse injuries because of his lack of skill yet still refused to fall, Mydei fell silent.
At that moment, he suddenly understood what Amos had really been plotting.
He had not been plotting against the Cleansers.
Nor against the Kremnoan people.
He had been plotting against all of Okhema.
As the most open and tolerant city-state in the world, Okhema had taken in people from many other city-states, granted them citizenship, and allowed them to elect representatives into the Senate.
Mydei had once thought the Kremnoan people could integrate into Okhema through the same method.
But he was wrong.
Even with the Titans remaining silent and the world in chaos, discrimination and exclusion still existed.
The people of Okhema disliked the followers of Strife.
The Kremnoan people also disliked these people who lacked a warrior’s soul.
In all of vast Okhema, not a single inch belonged to the Kremnoan people.
That was why Mydei had agreed to Khaslana’s plan.
According to the agreement, the Kremnoan people would receive half of the Cleansers’ assets.
With that wealth, they would no longer need to rely on the Senate and could develop independently.
Sometimes Mydei thought, ‘Perhaps the Kremnoan people’s destiny was to return to Kremnos, or die on the road trying.’ But Amos had shown him another choice.
A choice that would allow Okhema to accept the Kremnoan people, allow the Kremnoan people to stay willingly, and require no change to their faith or concept of honor.
“Phainon, why won’t you fall?” The white-haired swordsman pushed himself up with his sword.
“Why?
Maybe I just don’t want to lose.” At that moment, Phainon looked miserable.
The clothes on his upper body had all exploded apart.
Golden blood flowed from wound after wound.
Yet not a single person in the crowd jeered.
The people of Okhema silently watched this swordsman who would not fall.
In this city filled with all kinds of people, they were feeling the weight of the word justice for the first time.
The Kremnoan people also showed respect.
Friend or foe, Phainon’s fighting spirit was exactly the kind they admired most.
Feeling the unusual atmosphere among the spectators, Mydei understood.
The Kremnoan people now had a place in Okhema.
After this battle, the people of Okhema would understand that equality could only exist when strength was equal.
Once people accepted that violence was also an indispensable part of order, no one could deny the importance of the Kremnoan people.
And the Kremnoan people would understand that not all Okhema people were cowards.
With Mydei repeatedly setting limits and Phainon representing Okhema in negotiations, the Kremnoan people would certainly respect Okhema’s laws.
After several generations, perhaps the Kremnoan people would completely integrate into Okhema.
“As a warrior, your blade has yet to be stained with blood.
Your skills are immature, almost childish.” “But…
without question, you are a qualified warrior.” “Let this battle end here.” “The Cleansers may stand trial, but how they are sentenced and dealt with will be decided by Kremnos City.”