On the sea, the black fleet from Atlantis advanced irresistibly, cleaving waves as it pressed forward.
Prince Triton, with golden long hair flowing, clad in bronze scale armor, with gills behind his ears, stepped onto the deck of the foremost warship, raised a golden conch shell to his lips, drew a deep breath, and blew forcefully.
"Woo—!"
A long, resonant horn sounded, desolate yet rich, like beautiful harmony.
He was the son of Sea King Poseidon and Queen Amphitrite, messenger of the sea and origin of the term "Triton"—commanding the entire Atlantean army.
Like his father Poseidon, Triton wielded a trident, but his unique accessory was the conch shell, used as a horn to raise or calm waves and currents.
As expected, with this resonant blast, dark clouds parted, and brilliant sunlight spilled across the sea.
Whether the hulls of the black fleet or the armor of the Atlanteans, all reflected a chilling cold gleam.
Metal warships?
Watching this scene from afar, Lorne's pupils contracted, his gaze slightly freezing.
Their civilization had evolved to this level!
Even with divine-era technology and rune arts passed down from the golden age, this degree of civilizational gap was absurdly extreme, right?
Moreover, legend held that humans of the golden age reached near-demigod strength upon adulthood and were undisputed god-descendants.
Lorne glanced roughly...the divine light patterns floating over the entire fleet nearly merged into a dense starfield.
No—not quite!
—It was real light!
"Get down!"
As his purple pupils caught beams of brilliant light streaking straight toward Crete, Lorne's face changed dramatically and he turned, roaring.
From months of cultivated trust, King Minos and the thousand-plus soldiers on Knossos's walls unanimously listened to his command and lowered their postures, urgently pressing flat against the wall.
In an instant, beams of brilliant light arrived, slamming fiercely into the divine barrier enveloping Crete's perimeter, erupting in blinding auroras.
"Boom!"
With earth-shaking tremors, the entire island of Crete shook violently, the golden barrier in the sky, torn open with a massive wound.
Then, the beams, undiminished—swept like sharp swords across the Cretan mountains, shearing off a hundred meters from the towering main peak!
In a flash, earth quaked and mountains shook.
Countless rocks melted into dark-red magma flowing freely down the slopes; thick smoke billowed skyward.
Lorne turned back, his gaze sweeping the unrecognizable Cretan mountains behind, then deeply fixing on the [star cluster] flickering on the sea.
The astonishing destructive force came from special devices rising on the fleet's decks.
—Hexahedral (cross-section hexagonal) massive pillar-like glass structures, with centers embedded in magneto stones engraved with dense incantations, seemingly absorbing sunlight and aether particles from the air, converting them into high-purity energy beams.
Legend said Atlanteans not only developed light into power sources but possessed technology for body regeneration and eternal youth.
Several special towers at Atlantis's continental center could concentrate and amplify light energy, broadcasting blinding beams worldwide.
Thus, the lost Atlantean civilization was also called the [Era of Light].
But seeing those tower-like structures composed of massive reflective mirrors, Lorne immediately thought of something called [Prism Towers].
Similarly constructed from huge prisms, their principle involved firing laser-like beams to strike enemies, which was remarkably similar to these divine-era black technologies.
Moreover, with such high-tech content in these prism-tower analogs, aiming and ranging were naturally trivial.
So the earlier strike on the uninhabited Cretan mountains wasn't a miss, but deliberate.
—The Atlanteans were asserting dominance, not just to conquer Crete but to intimidate those restless ocean gods.
Indeed, the sorrow of that lost egg had left Poseidon's sea king throne tottering.
Thus, like a red-eyed gambler, he revealed all his cards, trying to reassert his might.
Yet this played right into certain people's hands.
No wonder Zeus was so wary of these legendary golden humans who survived the world-ending flood...
With such a trump card,
Poseidon not only had strength to deter ocean gods but some capital to challenge Olympus.
Lorne outwardly praised, but his eyes brimmed with schadenfreude.
"Atlantean whelps, is that all?"
At this moment, King Minos didn't glance at the burning Cretan mountains behind.
Instead, switching his bronze spear for a golden scepter, he laughed loudly and smashed it heavily into the ground.
Instantly, with Crete's tremor, the unsealed bronze giant Talos rose upon the earth, charged psionic liquid cannon in its chest firing a beam dozens of meters wide, sweeping the vast sea.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
In an instant, three unprepared black metal warships exploded spectacularly into brilliant fireworks, wreckage slowly sinking seabed-ward.
Gazing at the majestic bronze giant on the land, Lorne pursed his lips, eyes shifting to the golden scepter.
Originally, King Minos had given it to him.
But considering the old man's current condition, he returned it for necessary moments, to make this play more convincing.
However, mobilizing the bronze giant Talos inevitably required igniting divine power.
This meant his twilight life had begun burning...no room for retreat.
A magnificent curtain call had sounded its overture.
At this time, the thousand-plus remaining Minoan soldiers, seeing the arrogant Atlantean fleet suffer, struck shields in unison, bursting into unrestrained mockery.
Sea King Poseidon, intending to assert dominance, flushed purple with rage.
He resolved: once Crete fell and Minoans conquered, this stubborn old fool would taste deep-sea punishment!
Now, young prince Triton, vanguard of the first battle, reddened under his father's displeased gaze and immediately raised the golden conch again.
"Woo—!"
Then, the second horn sounded, it's style abruptly shifting, like a ferocious beast's roar that even moved the divine giant.
East wind Euros; west wind Zephyrus; south wind Notos; north wind Boreas of thick clouds and hail...
These nature-force incarnate gods roared under sea messenger god Triton's command, raising furious winds.
Pairs of invisible hands pulled the black fleet across the sea, rapidly advancing toward Crete.
At the same time, submissive nymphs, gods, and giant monsters joined the battlefield amid the vast military momentum.
On the walls, Lorne and Athena rose together, exchanging glances.
Our turn!
Wordless eye contact needed no elaboration, they understood each other's intent.
Both nodded, then leaped from the high walls.
Surging divine power in their bodies formed wings, like two interlaced rainbows, charging straight at the aggressive ocean gods.
Upon approach, Athena targeted the Atlantean flagship, facing Sea King Poseidon, mocking outright.
"Uncle, your wound isn't healed yet you come to my territory, want to offer the other one as betrothal gift too?"
As wisdom goddess, Athena knew how to mentally devastate and deal true damage in insults.
"You...!"
Instantly, the lone-balled warrior on the deck flushed alternating blue and white, hands trembling slightly.
Staring at his smiling niece, he was too enraged for words.
Then, grief and fury overwhelming, Poseidon wordlessly raised his trident and charged Athena.
Two colliding light shadows erupted in sonic booms and divine shockwaves, battling from stalemated outer seas to distant inner seas away from the front.
Similarly, Lorne swiftly chose his opponent, brandishing bronze longsword straight at Nereus on the deck, cursing all the while.
(End of Chapter)