Myth: I am God!

Chapter 92

That blood-red sunset.

It resembles a blood-stained human head.

The splattered blood stained the crimson sunset clouds...

Dusk resembles a headless corpse.

It gradually collapsed.

The battle raged across the wilderness of Canaan.

This was the first time in Canaan's history that blood and fire had been shed in battle.

Everyone was in a bloodthirsty frenzy.

They may be fighting to defend their homes, or they may be fighting for God!

This group of Canaanites, after being tempered by fire, were once again tempered by blood.

Their spirits were purified in the fire, and their hearts found peace in the blood.

The fear, confusion, and even hesitation that followed divine punishment...

They all transformed into the purest belief on the knife!

Although the Canaanites were no longer superior in terms of weapons and skills, they far surpassed the bandits in terms of numbers and their fearless fighting spirit, even possessing an almost fanatical will to fight.

This instilled fear in even the robbers.

One sword severed the village warrior's sword-wielding hand, while the other clenched into a fist and slammed down; severing both their hands, they kicked and headbutted; cutting off their limbs, they writh on the ground, trying to bite...

With this fearless spirit, even though they were farmers and hunters before they raised their knives, they became the most fanatical warriors after they picked up their knives, and they were able to fight these bandits and thugs without being at a disadvantage!

This also provided a favorable environment for Isaac's duel with the giant axe-wielding man.

That burly man with the giant axe possessed the skill of a Golden Warrior.

During the battle, Isaac found it extremely difficult to fight. He could only rely on his agile figure to dodge the attacks. Sometimes, when he couldn't avoid the attacks, he had to throw off his cloak and use the indestructible cloak to block the blows of the giant axe.

These warriors with the Golden Glory are all formidable, each possessing unique strengths.

The man wielding the giant axe before them possessed immense strength; he was a mighty warrior with terrifying power, capable of lifting a giant axe that ordinary people simply could not.

He handled it with effortless ease, as if it were a child's toy.

And Isaac's bronze sword delivered a full-force blow.

They couldn't budge the giant axe-wielding man even an inch...

It was easily blocked by the giant axe.

Instead, the giant axe's swift and fierce attacks were completely beyond Isaac's ability to defend himself.

His sword barely touched the giant axe before it was almost knocked out of his hand.

Isaac had no choice but to dodge and weave to avoid each blow.

"Too weak!"

"How can someone like you be called the son of a hero?!"

"I will take your blood and your head..."

'

"As a sacrifice to my father!"

The man with the giant axe gripped it, his muscles taut, the veins bulging on his arm like writhing black snakes...

Isaac sensed that the man was about to lose his temper and gripped his cloak in advance.

The next moment—

A giant axe, accompanied by a howling wind, appeared on Isaac's forehead!

Isaac lifted his cloak, barely managing to block the attack, but before he could make his next move, his cloak was suddenly grabbed!

"I already know your tricks!"

"A rat hiding under a cloak!"

Immediately afterwards, Isaac felt a tremendous force that caused him to lose weight and take off.

He was grabbed by the giant axe-wielding man and slammed to the ground, then thrown far away.

It crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up dust.

Intense pain shot through Isaac's body; he felt as if several of his ribs were definitely broken.

But he is not Yara.

Unable to transform this pain into strength.

But he possesses half of the authority he inherited from his mother—the [Breath of the Purple Robe].

He felt an itch in his lungs.

The flesh beneath the skin is gradually moving, and the bones are slowly healing...

As the giant axe-wielding man drew closer.

Isaac stood up again, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

The man with the giant axe was slightly surprised, but didn't pay much attention to it.

He looked at Isaac with an arrogant air and said, "Too weak..."

"And I even considered you an enemy..."

"Perseus, and that damned usurper Dicttis..."

"That's the one I should be taking revenge on!"

As he spoke, he wielded his giant axe and swept it horizontally.

This was too fast, especially considering that Isaac hadn't fully recovered from his injuries.

He had no time to dodge and was struck in the chest by the giant axe.

He fainted on the spot.

The man pulled out his axe.

Isaac fell to the ground.

The setting sun gradually dimmed before his eyes.

Those around saw that Isaac had actually fallen.

Panic suddenly gripped my heart, and my resolve began to waver...

"What! Isaac...is dead!"

And just then...

An old, deep voice came from the side: "Isaac is not dead."

"He is blessed by God."

"How could he die so easily?"

The Canaanites, who were initially in a panic, saw the source of the sound.

Feeling reassured, he continued to fight fiercely.

The man with the giant axe was also taken aback when he heard this.

When he turned around to look at the source of the sound, he froze—

All I saw was...

An old man covered in blood, wielding two swords.

It came from that mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood...

The bandit gang consisted of dozens of high-ranking warriors.

They had all died by his sword.

The man with the giant axe stood frozen in place, looking at the old man in disbelief, and said, "A total of thirteen silver warriors and twenty bronze warriors..."

'

"I couldn't even stop you!"

"A full eighteen years..."

"Aren't you old yet?!"

The old man, amidst the blood, held a white sword stained red with blood in one hand and a black sword stained purple with blood in the other. He raised his eyes, his aged, cloudy eyes, like those of an old wolf, staring at the man with the giant axe, searching for something in his memory.

Then it dawned on him: "I think I've seen you before..."

"Your father was a nobleman from Argos?"

Upon hearing this, the man with the giant axe unleashed a violent aura, roaring, "My name is Hayden..."

"Those traitors, Arah and Dicttis, killed my father..."

"As a child, I followed my family to Sparta."

"Tyr, the legendary warrior who vanquished the Lion of Nemea!"

"Remember this!"

"Now I have returned..."

'

"It's for revenge!!"

"It's to kill you all!"

As he spoke, he suddenly leaped high into the air, his massive body blocking out the sunlight, and raised his giant axe high in the air.

He swung the sword down fiercely at old Tyr!

This immense force is unstoppable; even boulders will be shattered!

Not to mention the elderly Tyr.

but...

An aging swordsman never wins by strength or agility, but by experience.

Those sixty years of honing swordsmanship.

He had long since made the sword his own, and he had become the sword.

He took a step forward, and gently deflected the axe with his sword.

The axe seemed to lose its balance.

The entire force was misaligned.

He almost hit himself with an axe.

Hayden barely managed to steady himself, and as he turned, the deadly sword was aimed straight at his throat.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly and blocked the attack with his axe.

However, this attack was a feint.

The other sword was already aimed straight at his vital points!

Haydn was startled and had no choice but to drop the axe and grasp the sword in his hand, blood blooming on his hand...

He barely managed to withstand the sword aimed straight at his throat.

But it's a mix of truth and falsehood, reality and illusion.

The moment he threw away the axe.

Old Tyr's sword strike was originally a feint.

It struck again, more deadly and more vicious!

Hayden had no choice but to roll over and dodge.

They maneuvered and retreated at the same time.

His face flushed slightly; he was a soldier in his early twenties, in the prime of his youth.

He was actually chased and attacked by a seventy-year-old man!

This is an utter disgrace!

In a fit of rage.

Hayden rolled over and spread his body.

Escape Old Tyr's incessant, venomous, deadly, and dangerous entanglement...

He knew that things couldn't continue like this.

He is no match for this legendary warrior who conquered the Nemean Lion; he will die by his sword sooner or later!

Seeing that the situation was not good...

He gritted his teeth.

He took out a bottle of medicine from his pocket.

Crush the bottle and swallow the liquid inside in one gulp...

next moment.

A terrifying and dangerous aura emanated from it.

It spread through Haydn...

Old Tyr hesitated upon seeing this and distanced himself.

But Hayden moved in the next moment and charged forward like a bull!

Old Tyr parried with his iron sword!

But Hayden punched the iron sword away, bending it in the process...

Old Tyr pulled away again.

His gaze turned serious, and he couldn't help but ask, "What is this?"

Hayden's eyes were bloodshot.

His muscles exploded, shattering the bronze armor, leaving his explosively bare upper body exposed in the setting sun.

He laughed wildly, "You outdated old codger!"

"This is Sparta's war potion!"

"It will grant people power beyond their limits, though with severe backlash."

"But as long as it's revenge... I'm capable of anything!"

He moved with lightning speed, picked up the giant axe from the ground, and wielded it with fierce power in the wind.

With immense force, it swiftly slashed towards Old Tyr.

His speed had far surpassed his previous speed, and old Tyr could barely raise his black sword to defend himself.

But that force caused Old Tyr to feel numbness in his hands.

They stumbled back several steps before finally regaining their footing.

Blood gushed from his mouth.

And when Haydn’s furious giant axe struck old Tyr once more!

Old Tyr had nowhere left to hide.

Meanwhile—

Isaac, whose heart meridian had been severed, suddenly opened his eyes as if waking from a dream!

And those golden pupils emitted a light invisible to mortals.

And faintly, the light converged to form a strange pattern [F].