Horus and Ares were locked in battle within the throne hall. The Egyptian god unleashed multiple lines of radiant light at the god of war, but Ares evaded them all. With his sword, Ares counterattacked, yet Horus elegantly avoided every strike. The shockwaves created by Ares cutting through the air shattered the palace walls.

  Gripping his spear, Ares thrust at the falcon god, but Horus darted away; the spear’s slash tore a massive hole in the wall. Horus immediately kicked Ares, sending him crashing into the bathing chambers, which were destroyed as the war god smashed through them. Ares rose with fury etched on his face, wiping blood from his mouth.

  The god of war charged energy into his sword and fired a magma-like red beam, shouting, “Enyo ephítes (Horror shot)i!”

  Seeing the attack, Horus formed a translucent golden energy field around his body and said, “Axew ikam (Light Shield).”

  The blast shattered upon impact with the shield. Horus then dispelled his defense.

  Using his staff, Horus created a massive sphere of light and fired it straight into Ares’ abdomen, hurling him away as several palace walls collapsed. Ares fell on his back, vomiting blood, just as Horus closed in again with his weapon blazing. Horus struck—but Ares rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the blow.

  Dark wings erupted from Ares’ back; their feathers transformed into black daggers that flew toward the falcon god. Horus generated multiple beams of light and destroyed them all.

  “I expected no less from one of the most powerful gods of the Land of Manu,” Ares said with a smile.

  “I can’t say the same about you—you’re truly a disappointment,” Horus replied.

  “You’ll stop talking so much shit soon enough,” Ares retorted.

  As he spoke, the god of war slightly opened his right hand—the one holding his sword. Inside, he still grasped the sphere he had been studying earlier.

  “Tch. Still not enough,” Ares thought, and closed his hand again.

  Elsewhere, Rodrigo remained trapped inside the sarcophagus Ogun had forged. The coffin began to shake violently as the spilled blood was absorbed into it.

  Ogun, who had been hammering a sword at his forge, stopped and turned to see the sarcophagus cracking as it writhed with force.

  With both arms covered in scales and eyes gleaming like a serpent’s, Rodrigo burst the sarcophagus open from within. A rush of air blasted through the shattered coffin. The young tannin stood encased in a wild, bubbling shield of wind that churned around him like a storm.

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  “Can’t you stay still? You would’ve died in there,” Ogun said.

  “Sorry—but I can’t die yet,” Rodrigo replied with a crooked grin. His wounds had completely healed.

  Ogun studied him closely and grimaced.

  “A tannin? Seriously? How low has that Athena fallen?” he scoffed.

  “Say whatever you want. I’m in a hurry to reach Ares—and if you get in my way, I’ll have to remove you,” Rodrigo shot back.

  The Yoruba god sighed deeply, took the sword from the forge, gripped it, and turned to face Rodrigo.

  “Even if you’re a tannin, you’re no match for me—and yet you think you can face my lord Ares?” he asked.

  “I won’t know until I try,” Rodrigo said.

  “Fine. I’ll let you learn firsthand,” Ogun replied.

  He raised his sword and, like a conductor leading a symphony, began to move it in flowing arcs. Chains, spears, and pikes erupted from the ground, assaulting Rodrigo. With each motion, new iron weapons burst from floors and walls, which Rodrigo dodged with difficulty.

  With a swift downward swing, Ogun summoned a colossal iron pillar from the palace ceiling. It crashed down, pinning Rodrigo before he could react.

  “Death is all that awaits those who challenge the great Ares,” Ogun said calmly.

  But Rodrigo began to rise, straining as he held the massive pillar aloft with both hands.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” Rodrigo asked.

  “Obviously not,” Ogun replied.

  Spears shot from the surrounding walls toward Rodrigo as he struggled to support the pillar. His face tightened with concern as he tried to break free and evade the attack—but then, as if lightning itself had appeared, the spears fell to the ground, crackling with static electricity.

  “What just happened?” Ogun asked.

  Standing before Rodrigo was a familiar figure—Khine, the African god who wore a silent mask. Rodrigo had completely forgotten about him.

  “You’re… Khine, right? Thank you!” Rodrigo shouted, raising a hand in gratitude. Khine lifted his own hand in acknowledgment.

  “Well, well—what do we have here? A Soninke god. How nostalgic to see you in a place like this!” Ogun exclaimed, excited yet dripping with cynicism.

  Khine began to dance in an uncanny way, hands weaving as his body swayed. A rain of lightning poured from him, obliterating all metal in the chamber—including the enormous pillar crushing Rodrigo.

  Ogun, who halted the attack effortlessly with the palm of his hand, smiled.

  “Oh yes, I remember you, Khine—the bastard who lost his kingdom because of your brother’s pact with a tannin named Bida.”

  Khine danced again before the Yoruba god.

  “True, lightning is my weakness—but your divine power is far too low to truly pressure me,” Ogun answered coolly.

  He lunged with his sword, but Khine dodged like a drifting leaf. Every strike was evaded with effortless grace.

  The Soninke god spun through the air, charged with static, and slammed into Ogun, electrocuting him as he pushed him slightly backward.

  Ogun arched from the impact, then straightened at once.

  “I told you—it’s useless,” he said with a smile.

  Khine resumed his dance, but Ogun had grown tired of the incomprehensible display. Using his metallurgical alchemy, he caused metal fragments around the room to float and fuse into his weapon, reshaping his sword into a massive, grotesque form.

  “Let’s see you dodge this time!” Ogun roared.

  He swung at the masked god—but the blow was stopped by a newcomer who blocked the strike with his own weapon.

  Rodrigo recognized him instantly: Susanoo. This time, however, he wore a terrifying red hannya mask.

  “Might ye be in need of a helping hand, Rodrigo-san?” Susanoo asked.

  “An extra hand wouldn’t hurt,” Rodrigo replied, still struggling to rise.

  The Soninke were the founders of the Ghana Empire, located south of the Sahara in the middle Senegal River valley. From the 8th century onward, the Ghana Empire controlled trans-Saharan trade, reaching its zenith in the 9th and 10th centuries. In the 11th century, following several Almoravid invasions from the north, the empire gradually weakened until its final collapse in the 13th century, ushering in a period of diaspora throughout the region.

  According to soninke mythology, Khine was the founder of such empire, but was expelled by his brother who made a pact with a woman-serpent called Bida.