Having traversed countless realms, can you possibly be as clever as me?

"Stop! Don't test him!!!"

But it was too late. He truly lived up to his reputation as a genius at messing things up; he made the call at precisely this crucial moment.

The war in the sky was actually under attack and provocation, but he didn't draw the sword on his back to fight; it was merely an ornament created by Ki and Tsugumi's perceptions. In the next instant, it was as if some kind of summons had been fulfilled—

A deafening roar echoed from the other side of the sky.

The panicked crowd in Snowfield City then saw fireworks, countless fireworks made of human weapons, flowing across the sky!

From the burning boulders hurled by the oldest catapults to the giant arrows fired from medieval city wall ballistae; from the barrage of flintlock muskets fired in the era of queuing for executions after the First Industrial Revolution to the scorching iron balls spewed by Krupp cannons during the Franco-Prussian War; and then, the steel torrent of modern warfare took over everything.

The trails of the tracks rolled across the sky, hundreds of 85mm cannons fired simultaneously, and the onboard machine guns sprayed out a visible storm of metal; the bomb bay of the B-29 bomber slowly opened, and the black dots of bombs turned into a continuous rain of death.

The Katyusha rocket launchers trailed orange-red plumes that wove into a burning grid, while the salvo from the M270 multiple rocket launcher systems transformed into a sky-covering spectacle of smoke and fire. The roar of the 406mm cannons made the very air tremble.

One hundred, two hundred, one thousand, two thousand... or ten thousand? One hundred thousand?

No one could tell how many fireworks were falling; all that was known was that in the next instant, they covered the entire sky.

Then, less than one-tenth of the concentrated artillery fire landed in the center of Snowfield City, while much more flew through the sky and disappeared into the unknown!

A man-made hell ensued.

In the heart of Snowfield City, all buildings taller than two stories were wiped out within the first ten seconds. Cruise missiles, trailing white contrails, precisely penetrated the midsections of the high-rises; thermobaric weapons created brief vacuums before expanding into devastating fireballs; and cluster munitions exploded in mid-air, evenly scattering death across every inch of untouched land.

The earth was repeatedly plowed, turned over, and blasted into deep craters. The asphalt roads melted and mixed with soil and snow to form bubbling black mud. Flames were everywhere, with different weapons creating eerie layers of fire: the sticky yellow flames of napalm crawled slowly across the ruins, the incandescent light of thermite scorched the steel wreckage, and the crimson flames of conventional explosives devoured everything flammable.

The air was thick with the complex odors of sulfur, nitroglycerin, burning plastic, and charred flesh. Thick smoke billowed into the sky, obscuring the daylight like dusk. The shockwave spread outwards, shattering windows several kilometers away that remained intact. Screams, cries, and the roar of collapsing buildings were all mercilessly drowned out by the even more violent explosions.

This place had long since transformed into a battlefield of carnage, surpassing the scale of any human battle. Countless barrages of firepower emerged from the void, raining down relentlessly.

In the heart of this inferno, a figure is tearing through the sea of ​​fire, swimming upstream.

Alcides was draped in the lion skin of Nemia—the very same monster pelt that had once made him invulnerable—now covering his robust body, radiating a dim yet resilient golden aura. Barrages powerful enough to tear steel warships to shreds struck this aura, only creating violent ripples.

The armor-piercing projectile shattered the moment it touched the fur surface; the shockwave from the high explosives cracked the molten ground beneath his feet once more, but it couldn't make him retreat even a step; the burning liquid tried to adhere to it, but was quietly slid off by that ancient mystery.

"Crimson Knight who wields war! Your power to manifest all wars in the world is truly terrifying, but my lion skin rejects all harm from human creations. Your attacks have no effect on me!"

Alcides growled, his eyes sharp as an eagle's, locked onto the knight who was calmly and continuously "summoning" destruction. The knight didn't even look at him, as if the terrifying firepower that leveled the city was merely a prelude to something casually done.

He stopped, drew his bow, but no arrow touched the string. Yet, a surge of magical power began to gather, the aether in the air wailed, and the crimson flames of vengeance burned fiercely around him, mingling with the aura of the lion's skin. He drew the bowstring taut, aiming it at the Crimson Knight's chest.

"With this bow, I will pierce your heart—!"

The magic materialized into an arrow, a crimson stream of light embodying hatred, rage, and the power once tainted by the hero, taking the form of a monstrous bird. The instant it left the bowstring, space seemed to be torn open, and all the falling shells, bullets, and even exploding flames along its path were ruthlessly annihilated or deflected by this arrow.

The Crimson Knight remained motionless, its lava-like face seemingly turned toward the incoming arrows, its burning eye sockets revealing no emotion. It didn't even adopt a defensive or evasive stance; only its right hand, which had been held out to summon weaponry, slightly adjusted its angle.

The next moment, in front of Alcides' arrow, from the endless, still pouring torrent of weapons, an identical red streak suddenly appeared!

No, it wasn't generated. It was summoned! That stream of light, its magical properties, its penetrating will, its condensed form, were exactly the same as the arrow that Alcides had just shot.

"Whoosh—Boom!!!"

Two identical arrows of heroism collided precisely in mid-air, less than fifty meters from the "war".

There was no earth-shattering explosion. There was only the annihilation of magic of equal mass and nature. The golden-red light flashed violently, expanded into a blinding sphere of light, then collapsed inward, finally dissipating into countless sparks, which were easily dispersed by the exhaust plumes of the missiles that followed.

Alcides stood still, the veins on the back of his hand holding the bow bulging slightly. He stared intently at the seemingly unchanged crimson knight in the air, then slowly lowered his head to look at the fingers that had just released the bowstring.

He knew he had no way to defeat the being before him. The usurper of the heavens could not possibly seize a non-existent treasure or concept, and the moment he pulled out the treasure, everything would be meaningless!

In the distance, atop the golden 'Vimana,' Gilgamesh coldly observed everything, while Tini beside him gasped in surprise and then whispered...

"Is that the war of the Apocalypse Knights? And is his opponent the great hero Hercules? Can he defeat this knight...?"

"Impossible!" Gilgamesh declared definitively.

"There's absolutely no way that demigod could defeat that thing. Ha, in the end, Hercules is just so-so!"

"Your Majesty, could you please enlighten us?"

"That thing's power is not simply to summon weapons, but to recreate war."

309

Gilgamesh said solemnly

"Not just 'weapons in the history of human warfare,' but any 'weapon' used in 'war' in this world, no matter what it is or who made it, can be summoned the moment it is used in war!"

"In other words, even if I use EA to deal with that thing, it will create an attack equal to EA the moment EA is activated to offset my attack!"

"Huh?" Tini looked surprised. "Wouldn't that make you invincible?"

"Not entirely. In the end, it is just a manifestation of the concept of world war. The person who summoned it merely added an external consciousness that transcends dimensions, without attracting any truly external beings."

"Moreover, if it is an attack completely separate from humanity and created solely by the planet, it is actually impossible to replicate and can only be responded to with destruction of an equivalent scale."

Gilgamesh poured himself a glass of wine and said calmly...

"This is no longer a problem that the Holy Grail War can solve. Tiny, just watch. Even if we're going to fight, this isn't the time to make a move!"

The battle between Alcides and the Crimson Knight seemed to be drawing to a close quickly, and the result, without a doubt, was Hercules' defeat!

Even the Crimson Knight wasn't really fighting him, because when they did fight, he used most of his firepower to target other areas of the country.

At the same time that he was fighting Hercules, every city across the United States was subjected to a sudden and indiscriminate barrage of artillery fire.

Wailing, screaming, groans—a quarter of lives were lost in attempts to defy the war. And Hercules? Just a sideshow!

After all, it's just Hercules!

However, this defeat was not Hercules's own, but rather that his Master, Bazdilot, who was trying to escape the battlefield, was caught in the merciless AOE of the war and was blown to pieces along with his otherworldly workshop!

Without his Master, Alcides stopped fighting. He took a deep look at the Crimson Knight in the sky, who had also stopped fighting, and then departed in spirit form.

With his C-rank solo ability, he could survive in the real world for a certain period of time even without his Master. And after the Master who had defiled him died, Alcides had no reason to continue fighting.

A spectacular battle thus ended abruptly.

Ultimately, however, this was never an equal battle.

It was merely a self-disciplined counterattack against the attackers, and a second 'punishment' for the city.

"A quarter of the countries that have angered the war have been destroyed by the war."

After the Crimson Knight returned to Tsugumi's side, he spoke in a lamenting tone.

"And so, the second seal was unlocked—" He paused, glanced at Hansa, and smiled.

"What's wrong? You look terrible. Can't accept it? That God's punishment is so arbitrary?"

He laughed as he unveiled countless images, each one revealing scenes of America suddenly being attacked by a barrage of artillery fire from the sky!

New York, Washington, Los Angeles, Chicago... one city after another wailed in the flames of war, and died in chaos amidst the disaster that struck from the sky!

"...Would you stop Apocalypse if you just defeated everyone on that list?"

Hansa took a deep breath and looked at Tsurugi with utmost seriousness, asking...

"Of course, but you only have three people, and it's been two days now." Tsuruga glanced at her watch, shook it, and laughed.

"Time is running out, Abraham, hurry up and do your best to save the righteous in the city."

Hansa didn't hesitate any longer, turned and disappeared into the night—he had to spread the message before more fools provoked Dongjiang! After all, this time it was a quarter of America's lives, what about next time? A quarter of the world's famine?

As for whether he can get what he wants, Tsurugi is still not optimistic.

He chose to lie down on the hospital bed next to him, then turned on his phone to see just how many fans his outstanding performance had gained him.

"You're surprisingly narcissistic," Francesca mumbled, barely audible, as she raged by the plague.

"Noisy!" Tsurugi casually chopped them up, then happily enjoyed the sounds of cursing and praising him, filling the air with his own voice.

Vanity is indeed the original sin that he cannot overcome and does not want to overcome.

There are two days left.

221. The World's Reaction

The first night after the live broadcast from Dongjiang has ended.

The global disaster, which lasted for more than ten hours, made it impossible for anyone to keep it a secret any longer. As for Tsurugi's identity, almost no one who had previously questioned it had left!

After all, when you can't even find a drop of clean water around you, and you're surrounded by frogs and mosquitoes that you can't get rid of, it's hard to doubt whether the person who claims to be a saint is a fraud.

This doesn't even take into account the 100 million people who were massacred in the United States on this day of disaster!

This, in turn, has led to discussions about those publicly released reports!

Are those horrifying claims true? Have those high-ranking figures really done things that are worse than beasts?

Okay, whether it's true or not doesn't matter. What matters is that the calamity released by Tsurugi has successfully dragged everyone into this matter!

When danger does not involve personal interests, people will always try to mediate; but when disaster strikes them, they become very anxious.

But what can these ordinary people do?

A protest? Forget it. Such verbal resistance is no different from cowardice. Besides, it's never people like them who decide the world's fate and direction.

The real decision-makers are a small number of powerful figures, the Magic Association, and the Clock Tower.

The three parties reacted differently.

Those few powerful and wealthy families, or rather, the old money families that basically encompass the entire United States and many blue-blooded noble families in Europe, were both terrified and furious at the sudden divine punishment.

These guys are indeed a bunch of self-deceiving clowns.

They clearly know what they're doing, things that would at least warrant being torn to pieces if the authorities saw them, yet they still manage to fool themselves into thinking it's sacred.

These guys, raised in a Protestant environment, have really managed to deceive themselves to such an extent that it's unbelievable, or rather, they've never truly believed in anything.

In short, they truly believed that even if they had committed such heinous acts, as long as they still donated to the church and laundered their own money, they were still God's good children!

Then now a saint jumps out and slaps them in the face, taking a quarter of the entire United States, and tells them that because of them he plans to bring Judgment Day to the world ahead of schedule, and actually brings down divine punishment and disaster.

This situation first instilled fear in them, followed by hysterical rage.

It was one thing for Lord Ye to love dragons but fear them in return, but this dragon actually came down and was going to eat them. These inherently unruly fellows naturally transformed their fear into hysterical rage.

Then they worked through the night to contact public relations teams and connections to mitigate the impact of the incident, and put immense pressure on the government to bombard Xueyuan City with nuclear missiles.

And—contact their own magician

The magicians in the New World are indeed a bunch of nouveau riche, but with the backing of the US government, they still have some influence, not to mention that there are quite a few magicians among those who came to the island.

But the magicians' attitude toward this is quite unclear, or rather, infighting has already begun within their ranks.