As he gripped the daggers tightly, a low voice escaped his lips.
Several strange shadow magic spells quickly covered his body, adding a layer of hazy mist and gray light to his black figure.
Facing the gods, he had to be on high alert, and he would never hide any of his trump cards again.
However, Athena on the other side simply watched his actions quietly and said softly:
"Feel sorry."
As soon as the words fell, a golden light tore through space with terrifying speed, instantly freezing the surrounding surging wind.
She swept across the empty arena, passing by the gray figure.
The next second, black blood slid down the tip of the spear.
Before Gretham could even react, he felt a distinct chill and weakness envelop his entire body.
When the gaze focused, the deity before them had already departed, leaving only a fleeting golden light that dissipated like starlight.
He clutched his stomach, writhing in pain, and collapsed to his knees on the hard ground.
His mouth was full of blood, and in less than half a second Athena was already in front of him.
At this moment, the fear in Gretham's eyes was magnified countless times, becoming extremely obvious.
He regretted it, regretted standing on that ring.
He wanted to beg for mercy, hoping that the goddess in front of him would spare his life.
Even just surviving seems better than dying here.
However, Athena, the goddess of wisdom, maintained a somber expression and said in a low voice:
"I also want to go back alive."
So, I'm sorry.
The golden spearhead thrust out again, piercing the master's chest and breaking through his heart.
Blood was allowed to gush out in a fan shape, splattering all over the sand in the arena.
With just one blow, Gretham collapsed to the ground.
His body, stripped away by divine power, rapidly turned into a cloud of ash and vanished.
It was as if this person had never existed in the world.
Silence. The field was completely silent.
At that moment, all that remained in the eyes of the countless people present was fear and panic.
The master who fell was originally a fifth-tier expert.
As a result, when facing the gods, they were easily defeated in a single move?
How could this be?
Is the difference between gods and humans really that obvious?
As Athena left, a cold, desolate voice followed:
"Don't disappoint me, Artemis."
The goddess of the hunt, whose name was called, trembled slightly and reluctantly walked onto the field with a dark expression.
In the ensuing silence, the second master took the stage.
He is the master who can summon beast spirits.
But as soon as he appeared and prepared, the goddess Artemis pierced his body with an arrow.
He was even worse off than the previous master, who at least had time to put a layer of protection on himself.
This person couldn't even summon the so-called beast spirit and died on the spot.
The same silence and fear enveloped the area once again, and the body of another master turned to ashes and vanished.
Within just two minutes, both masters were killed in action.
The third deity is also ready to take the stage.
He was called 'Hephaestus' and looked like a blacksmith wielding a hammer.
The deity's composed demeanor rekindled a glimmer of hope in the dejected crowd.
A blacksmith?
It seems that this is not a god primarily focused on battle, and its strength may not be great.
This time, we should be able to win.
However, the third master, Mosanna, had just approached the blacksmith god's side.
Before they could catch their breath, they were burned to ashes by the furnace fire that had ignited beside them.
The fire god didn't even move an inch.
At this point, the entire Arena of Gods was utterly silent.
The initial hope was completely shattered, turning into profound despair.
People suddenly realized that the gods were indeed beings that humans could not contend with.
The combined power of the first three gods alone would be enough to destroy all the humans present, without Victor even needing to lift a finger.
At this moment, humanity lost all hope and had no expectations left.
They even realized that the master who ran away had been truly prescient.
Even as they were filled with deep fear, time continued to tick away rapidly.
Until the fourth god appeared.
Unlike any of the gods before him, he showed no sign of dejection or reluctance.
His face was etched with violence and a murderous intent, and his body trembled uncontrollably with excitement for the impending battle.
This is Ares, the god of war.
The fourth master, who was sitting in his seat, was trembling all over, his fear almost showing on his face.
He felt dizzy and weak, as if his bones had turned into soft mud, and he could no longer support any of his movements.
At that moment, he could only suppress his fear and the intense psychological pain and struggle to stand up.
But just as he stood up, a strong hand firmly pressed him back into his seat.
The last master was slightly taken aback. He struggled to stand up, only to find himself firmly held down by that large hand, unable to move an inch.
No, he's a fifth-tier cultivator, how come he can't even move?
He looked up and glanced back, seeing the young man smiling at him beside him.
The young man was clad in golden armor, his silver-white hair flowing freely, exuding a heroic and dashing air.
When did this man appear?
"Leave this one to me."
The young man's voice was strong and powerful, filled with boundless determination, as if it contained a magic that made him stop struggling.
However, in this atmosphere of despair, no one noticed that the master had been replaced.
Only Ares saw the golden-armored youth struggling to climb towards the arena.
His gaze then became even more violent.
That wasn't a look of yearning for battle.
Rather, it's an impulse to completely crush the opponent.
"I hope you can hold on a little longer and don't beg for mercy too soon."
Under the despairing gazes of everyone,
The silver-haired youth had already climbed onto the arena and casually dusted himself off.
Then he looked up and gave Ares a sunny smile.
"What a coincidence, that's exactly what I was going to say."
A crisp sound of bones grinding together rang out, and his gaze suddenly darkened, becoming incredibly sharp.
Like a sharp spear, it pierced directly through Ares's vision and into his trembling muscles.
"Hold on a little longer."
At this moment, Aubrey resembled a lion with its eyes still open.
Staring intently at its prey, it straightened its body, its mane fluttering in the wind.
His limbs were full of power, his muscles bulged, ready to pounce.
At the same time, the surrounding space vibrated slightly with Aubrey's breathing, restless and uneasy.
"Don't beg for mercy."
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