Chapter 93: A Storm Approaches

Czech Fried watched anxiously, his heart in turmoil. Yet, surrounded by three Gold Saints attacking simultaneously, he could not break free. He could only watch helplessly as the five Bronze Saints battled Queen Hilda.

At this moment, the fight among the five was reaching its climax. Seiya, Shiryu, Hyoga, Shun, and Ikki—all five—had their Cloths transformed into a golden hue.

After the battle of the Twelve Temples, the Bronze Saints' Cloths had been damaged. Several Gold Saints had offered their blood, reviving the Cloths anew. Now, these Bronze Cloths, stained with the blood of the Gold Saints, would transform to near-Gold Cloth levels when the five Saints elevated their Cosmo to the Seventh Sense. That was why they now shone golden.

As all five reached the level of Gold Saints, the battle reached its most critical point.

“Sister, please, no more fighting!”

From the palace, Freya, another key figure, continued her desperate plea to her sister, Queen Hilda.

“Freya! I will defeat them!” Hilda declared stubbornly.

Seeing Hilda unmoved, the five heroes could no longer hold back. Each unleashed their most powerful techniques.

Pegasus Meteor Fist!

Rozan Rising Dragon!

Nebula Chain!

Diamond Dust!

Phoenix’s Wings Rise!

All five Saints struck with their ultimate moves simultaneously. The five forces merged into one and crashed onto Queen Hilda, sending her collapsing to the ground.

Seeing Hilda fall wounded, Czech Fried roared, “Queen Hilda!!” Without a second thought, he took a direct hit from Capricorn Shura’s Sacred Sword and leapt forward. His heart belonged only to Queen Hilda—he would gladly lay down his life for her.

Aurora Execution!

Andromeda’s Final Judgment!

Sacred Sword!

The three Gold Saints unleashed their ultimate techniques. Czech Fried’s God Cloth was shattered by the overwhelming power, and he crashed to the ground, unable to rise.

Just then, a flute’s melody echoed through the battlefield—a seductive, bewitching tune. Whether it was the five Bronze Saints or the three Gold Saints, all were affected by the sound.

“Who’s there?!” Capricorn Shura, the strongest among them, slashed with his Sacred Sword, shattering a nearby ice peak.

From the mist emerged a stunningly beautiful Marine General, clad in Scale Armor. Her beauty was unearthly—red lips, pearly teeth—reminiscent of the legendary sirens.

“I am Surante, the Siren of Poseidon, Sea Emperor of the Oceans!”

Though her flute had been interrupted by the Sacred Sword, Surante was unperturbed. With haughty pride, she looked down upon them all.

“A Marine General?!”

The five Bronze Saints were unfamiliar, but the three Gold Saints knew all too well—their faces changed at once.

“It’s you! You’re the one who bewitched Queen Hilda?!”

Czech Fried, recovering first, looked grim.

Surante curled her lips in disdain, replying, “You were simply too incompetent. Even these few Bronze Saints could defeat Asgard’s proudest God Warriors. All my efforts were wasted.”

“Damn you!!”

Wounded yet determined, Czech Fried leapt to deliver a lesson with his fists.

But Surante’s Light Speed Punches—capable of unleashing billions in an instant—were far superior to the Gold Saints. In a flash, Czech Fried was pummeled to the ground, unable to rise again.

“So feeble!”

Surante’s contempt stung the heart of the mightiest warrior in Asgard. Driven to desperation, Czech Fried gathered his resolve for a final suicidal charge, intent on taking Surante down with him.

Symphony of Death’s End!

The Siren’s enchanting flute sounded once more—a deathly melody that tormented the will, suffocating Czech Fried with the very breath of death.

Determined, Czech Fried ruptured his own eardrums to stop the fatal music.

“Hmph, my melody does not rely on air. Even if you pierce your eardrums, you cannot block the sound!”

Surante’s mockery only deepened Czech Fried’s agony.

Suddenly, a pillar of sacred fire descended from the heavens, landing with a crash atop Surante’s head. Startled, Surante’s flute playing faltered.

Seizing the chance, Czech Fried, sacrificing his own hands, drove them into Surante’s sides and soared skyward toward the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper. It was a final, desperate technique akin to the Rozan Dragon’s Ascension—an attack that would ensure mutual destruction. Surante struggled but could not break free and could only watch as she was carried to their doom together.

At that moment, a trident flew in from the distant sea, striking the two as they ascended.

Both crashed to the ground. Surante, seeing who had come, realized Sea Emperor Poseidon himself had saved her. Czech Fried, grievously wounded, could no longer move.

“What is…”

Half-kneeling, Surante seemed to be welcoming someone.

A majestic young man appeared, radiating the divine Cosmo that only a god could possess—he had come to Asgard.

On the other side, a young man clad in the robes of the Pope also appeared.

“Pope Alex!”

The three Gold Saints and the five Bronze Saints cried out in unison, surprised by Feng Zhe’s arrival.

Feng Zhe, however, looked to the young man and spoke, “Lord Poseidon, you pursued me all the way from Andromeda Island. Have you come to settle our duel?”

The eight Saints were stunned. Who would have thought Feng Zhe had already clashed with the Sea Emperor?

Surante, too, was surprised—especially seeing that Poseidon regarded the Pope of Sanctuary as his equal. This prompted her to look more closely at Feng Zhe, sensing the fathomless depths of his Cosmo—far beyond even a Gold Saint.

Poseidon replied, “Victory and defeat no longer matter. Let us call a truce for now. What say you?”

“Agreed!” Feng Zhe had no desire to start a war with the sea at this moment. Though the sea was at its weakest, Sanctuary’s strength was also insufficient.

“Surante, let’s go!” Poseidon departed decisively. Though Surante was reluctant, she knew she had no choice and followed him into the sea.

With Surante gone, the Nibelung Ring was cut through with a single sword stroke, and Queen Hilda regained her senses.

At the very moment of her recovery, Queen Hilda washed away her sins with her own blood, offering herself in atonement and sealing Asgard once more in ice.

Athena had once again triumphed over the palace of the gods, extending her power into the northern lands.

Yet, with Queen Hilda’s return and all God Warriors but the gravely wounded Czech Fried fallen, Asgard’s power was greatly diminished.

Feng Zhe looked at Czech Fried and spoke softly. The warrior’s eyes widened, then he nodded with resolute determination.

Afterward, Feng Zhe, Lady Saori, and the eight Saints returned to Sanctuary.

Driven by curiosity, Saori asked, “What did you just say to Czech Fried?”

“Heh, I merely told him to beware of Loki—that god is one who seizes opportunity.”

Saori seemed unconcerned by the mention of Loki and asked again, “What about Poseidon? Why not wage the holy war now?”

“I never do anything unless I’m sure of victory,” Feng Zhe replied with a soft smile, though Saori seemed unsatisfied with this answer.

…

“My lord Poseidon, are you truly going to summon the gods of the sea?”

“The strength of Sanctuary has exceeded my expectations. Only those subordinate deities can aid me now.”

“But the Olympian gods will never permit such a thing!”

“We can no longer afford to care!”

Surante the Siren and Kanon exchanged glances, a trace of fear flickering in their eyes.