Pfft...
In the next moment, Saga's steps faltered, he spat a mouthful of blood, and his breathing quickened.
"I got careless, far too careless."
"He has mastered all kinds of Gold Saint finishers—some I haven't even seen."
"If I'd known, I would have put on my Cloth and killed him outright…"
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. The Gemini Gold Cloth detached from his body and vanished into the space behind him.
A heartbeat later, Saga was back before the throne in the Pope's Hall, a black papal robe appearing in his hand.
It was just as well the man had left. If they had kept fighting, whether he could kill him was an open question.
He had a hunch the stranger had held back.
"Your Holiness, forgive this subordinate's incompetence."
Aphrodite dropped to one knee before the throne and bowed to plead guilty.
"Aphrodite, return to your Pisces Temple."
Draping on the robe, Saga's gaze sharpened, his voice rough:
"Go issue orders: lock down the Sanctuary, check all suspicious persons, and execute them on sight."
"This seat needs to know how that man got into the Pope's Hall."
No sooner had he spoken than the Sanctuary's chief of staff, Gigas, hurried into the hall and called to Saga, "Your Holiness, I have urgent news to report."
"If there's business, bring it tomorrow. This seat is tired today and doesn't wish to hear any more reports…"
Weariness colored Saga's voice.
He needed time to rest.
Gigas couldn't hold back. "Your Holiness, this matter is critical. I must report it."
"It's confirmed: that Saori Kido in Japan has put the Sagittarius Gold Cloth up as a prize for a group of Bronze Saints to fight over, and is using the Galaxian Wars to publicize the existence of the goddess in this world."
"There's no mistake. It's definitely the Sagittarius Gold Cloth."
Saga: …
Underworld, Yomi Hirasaka.
Damian plopped down on the ground, aching all over.
He wiped a smear of blood from his lip.
This was the first time he'd suffered internal injuries.
After all, he had taken a Galaxian Explosion head-on.
It hadn't been a full-power Explosion, but it was no joke.
He looked down at his Pegasus Cloth—webbed with cracks, its luster dimmed.
Two thick fissures across the chest warned the Cloth was about to give up the ghost.
That Galaxian Explosion hit hard.
Even his pecs ached.
Did I just tank a Galaxian Explosion with two big pecs?
If not for the Pegasus Cloth, he'd likely be gravely wounded.
That godlike man—Saga!
It was far more exhausting than fighting the Cyclops progenitor.
That corrupted Cyclops progenitor might have been a god, but locked away too long—it had little real power, an empty shell next to Saga.
Saga is the very embodiment of compact, concentrated power.
As the Sanctuary's strongest Gold Saint, apart from a cheat like himself, only the one in Virgo Temple and Dohko could really wrestle with him.
Too bad he's a lunatic…
If not for thorough prep, he would probably have crashed and burned today.
Still, Saga took Titan Nova head-on too, but thanks to the Gold Cloth's insane defense, he probably came out lighter than Damian did.
That's the gap between Cloths.
Even if a Bronze Cloth drinks a Gold Saint's blood and turns golden for a time, it's still a Bronze Cloth at heart—somewhat show over substance.
It can't compare to true Gold Cloths handed down from the mythic age.
In defense and functionality, it still lags far behind.
Looks like a Gold Cloth is a must.
To get one, he had to master the Cyclops' forging in the graveyard—which meant getting Athena's divine blood. What a headache.
Was he really going to have to head out on another trip?
Whatever. First, bury Comrade Shion.
If he could draw from the former Pope and Aries Gold Saint, the trip was worth it.
"Healing Needle."
The nail on Damian's index finger turned white in a blink, and he stuck two needles—left and right—into his big pecs.
A warm, soothing current flooded through him, rapidly knitting his wounds.
Ah!
So comfortable.
Warmth flowed through his whole being.
If I were a woman, I'd fall for me—and come back for a few shots every day.
Damian was just about to stand and dust off his backside when he noticed something was off at Yomi Hirasaka.
In the distance, the endless lines of souls should have been filing into Hirasaka's Underworld gate, yet something bizarre was happening there.
Several of the soul-queues ahead had been cut off.
Peering closer, he saw mound-like monsters in the distance—each a round blob with tentacles and a black maw.
They rolled along as they devoured the souls of the dead, binding them with black tendrils and stuffing them into their mouths.
There were several of them; the gluttonous spheres had choked off the lines of the dead.
"What in the world are these things?"
Damian couldn't help his surprise.
They were unbearably ugly.
They looked like some kind of cell under magnification—enough to turn one's stomach.
"H-Help… help!"
At the cries for help, several Underworld soldiers with blades and spears came running—chased by those giant flesh-balls.
One man stumbled and was swallowed by the blob behind him.
It was odd. For Hades's domain, the Underworld had some strange monsters rampaging.
Seeing someone present, the soldiers latched on like drowning men to straw and sprinted for Damian.
"Plasma Lightspeed Punch!"
He lifted a hand, and a hundred million fist-lights wove a net that tore the ten‑plus‑meter tentacle beast apart. Its round body burst into pieces, and countless souls turned to streamers that poured toward the gate.
Which meant the thing had been absorbing souls.
"What is this thing?"
As eerie human faces surfaced on the black sphere, Damian frowned.
"This is… a Soul-Eater Beast."
One rescued Underworld soldier stammered, "They're the King of Souls' pets—sent to collect souls."
Another soldier nodded. "Yes, Saint sir, thank you for saving us."
The two exchanged a glance; neither dared pick a fight.
They'd been fleeing too fast to notice he wore a Cloth—a Saint of the Sanctuary.
But he'd saved them, and he looked very strong.
"King of Souls? Who is the King of Souls?"
Damian was puzzled. "This should be Hades's domain. Why is there a King of Souls?"
Hey now, the plot's going off the rails again. Since when did the Underworld have a King of Souls besides Hades?
This parallel world sure loved to throw curveballs.
"The King of Souls is… lawless. He wants to rebel."
One soldier blurted out.
"Rebel? What's the King of Souls' background?"
Damian wanted details.
The riddled Soul-Eater Beast revived where it lay; two tentacles yanked two soldiers into its mouth.
Then it rolled away at once, fleeing Damian like the plague.
So these soul-eaters could sense and fear the strong?
Damian shrugged.
The Underworld wasn't his jurisdiction. A rebellion by the King of Souls might even be good for the Sanctuary—maybe it would delay the Holy War.
Space rippled, and the next instant he was back in the deep cave of the Sanctuary graveyard.
He shed his Cloth and mask with a long breath, pulled Shion's body from the sack, and began the burial process.
Time to see what the former Aries Pope could offer in attributes and techniques…
(End of Chapter)
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