"Do not worry."

After saying this, Viktor straightened up, put his hands in his pockets, and resumed his nonchalant and calm demeanor.

The surrounding audience paid no attention to the conversation between Victor and Zeus.

Those words did little to diminish their deep loathing for Zeus.

They just wanted Zeus to die quickly.

But when Victor finished speaking, Zeus's dark eyes widened.

It tore at its fragile, rotting skin and roared in fury:

"Damn it, damn humans!"

"I'll kill you! I'm going to kill you!!!"

What a person who is often praised for their excellence finds hardest to accept is...

It's just being bullied.

At this moment, Zeus deeply felt this humiliation.

His hollow eye sockets revealed a clear, burning rage, which erupted from his trembling, emaciated body.

result,

Snap!

A crisp sound suddenly rang out across the entire flower-filled lawn, echoing beneath the boundless sky.

That sound was etched in the ears of people all over the world.

At that moment, the audience high in the sky fell silent.

All they saw was Zeus's face, which had become even more grotesque and twisted with rage, now extremely sunken and distorted to one side.

Viktor, however, had already put on gloves at some point and was still waving.

Seeing Zeus's remaining 0.1% health, almost completely wiped out, Viktor remained expressionless.

He even calmly pinched the fingertips of the glove, took it off, and tossed it aside casually.

It was quickly swallowed up by the lush grass and sea of ​​flowers, sinking into the wet mud.

“I call you God-King, and you’re already panting.”

Zeus stood frozen in place, his ears filled with a sharp buzzing sound, yet he could still clearly hear Victor's mockery.

"Did you think I was being respectful to you?"

Victor's gaze was as cold as ice, like an icicle rising from beneath a frigid lake, piercing directly into Zeus's heart, which was already being chilled.

"You mere counterfeit god, have you ever won even once?"

"Remember, all you can wait for now is death."

As the words fell, the blazing flame that had separated from the sea of ​​flowers and grass in the distance slowly subsided.

Countless viewers sensed something unusual in their field of vision, their eyes drawn to the ball of flame.

Now, that raging fire is like a torn rag, peeling away layer by layer in the air.

Countless spectators stared wide-eyed, curiously gazing at the blazing center of the fire.

Immediately afterwards, they saw a burly man with a stubble beard limping out from inside.

He stepped through the flames, disregarding the intense heat around him, and slowly emerged from the inferno.

His clothes were tattered, and he looked as if he had just been in a fierce battle.

Isn't that the Vulcan from before?

Many people in the crowd recognized the man.

However, what shocked and horrified countless people even more was that...

In the Vulcan's left hand, he was holding a head with a terrified expression.

The head was pale and colorless, with a terrified expression, yet its extreme beauty was still evident.

His right hand, however, was dragging a blood-stained broadsword, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

Under the horrified, silent gaze of countless spectators, he walked straight toward Viktor.

Then, the audience's attention focused on the bursting flames.

Amidst the raging flames, a mangled body, its limbs severed, lay silently on the ground.

It has no head.

Finally, Vulcan limped up to Victor.

Under Viktor's sharp gaze, he handed over the long knife in his hand.

Viktor then took the still-blood-stained blade, glanced at it calmly, and then turned to look at Vulcan.

More precisely, he was looking at the head that Vulcan was holding.

"A good way to die, very suitable for the ending of such a promiscuous person."

"Well then, it's your turn."

Victor snapped out of his daze, pressed his longsword against Zeus's neck, his deep black eyes utterly calm.

"There are no eternal gods in this world."

"And you,"

"However, he is also one who is about to step into the void."

At this point, Viktor slowly raised the blade in his hand.

With his back to the blazing sun, his deep obsidian eyes gleamed with a crimson light against the shadows.

It was filled with an atmosphere of deathly stillness.

At this moment, he is the one who judges.

"good evening."