Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

For example, why was the Tower of Babel destroyed by God before, and why must this thing be rebuilt now?

For example, why were the covenants established between the prophets and the Lord, and why were countless Jews who joined the wars on the battlefields praised even though they violated the Ten Commandments?

For example, if God created Leviathan, why did He allow Leviathan's son, the evil dragon that He subdued, to harm innocent people? Was this also God's arrangement?

With so many people dead, does an eternal kingdom truly exist?

……

Her straightforward and honest qualities made it impossible for this saint to deceive herself, and her expression changed constantly.

Snapped!

In a daze, realizing how blasphemous her thoughts were, Martha immediately raised her hand and slapped herself hard across her pretty face.

Samael twitched his lips upon hearing the crisp sound, feeling a pain in his own teeth.

Fallacy! Absolutely fallacy!

Martha dispelled her doubts, reaffirmed her wavering faith, and glared hatefully at the bastard who was disturbing her mind.

Damn it! You, the King of Athens, are you out of your mind?! Why aren't you reading the Orthodox scriptures, and instead you're reading the Bible?!

I'm a saint, how could you know more about the Bible than me? You damn heretic, you're actually giving me a lecture on scripture, are you taking advantage of my illiteracy? I'm seeing things!

cough cough...

Feeling uneasy under the resentful gaze, the Serpent of Original Sin coughed and turned its head away, muttering to itself.

It seems a bit heartless to bully a village girl with limited education like this...

Okay, that was pretty cool!

Samael forcibly suppressed the gleeful smile of crushing his opponent, his eyes flickering slightly, and with a divine perspective, he faced Marda and pondered earnestly.

"Gods will eventually depart, heroes will eventually fade away, and humanity will eventually leave the cradle and learn to be independent. Therefore, religion can be believed, but not blindly believed."

Finally, let me offer you this advice: instead of believing in that seemingly unreliable "eternal kingdom" and praying for divine grace to return humanity to "Eden," it's better to accept differences in faith, acknowledge each other's individuality, develop civilization, and build our own "earthly paradise."

"You bastard, don't try to deceive me. The Lord will lead His people into the eternal kingdom, and I will never betray my faith!"

Martha responded in a muffled voice, but her previous momentum was gone; it was clearly just a stubborn, defiant act.

"Wow, you're pretty brave. But it's no fun saying more. Let's go."

Samael murmured mockingly, then his face turned cold. He got up, pushed open the door, and dragged the captured prisoner into the dark night.

In the deep darkness of the night, there were not many ordinary soldiers patrolling the road. The waves of nymphs and Valkyries that passed by were also casually dismissed by the Holy King. However, all sorts of strange gazes fell on Martha, as if they were red-hot irons, causing the purple-haired saintess to clench her fists and turn her face red.

As the road became increasingly remote, the swaying withered grass made a harsh rustling sound, and the jagged rocks and tangled branches resembled menacing monsters. Martha felt a sudden jolt in her heart, and several images flashed through her mind.

If persuasion to surrender fails, then what should be done next...?

Torture, interrogation, whipping, humiliation, or...

The purple-haired saint touched the crucifix of the suffering figure between her fingers and couldn't help but shiver, feeling a slight itch in her palms and soles.

"Wang Woo!"

Just as Martha was lost in speculation about what had happened, cheerful barking came from the ravine ahead. A giant dog darted out from around the corner, its three large and ferocious heads charging at Samael, who was leading the way, and began to nudge him wildly.

The ancient serpent raised its hand and touched the head of the Alaskan in the middle, then turned back and gave it a long, eerie look.

The meaningful gaze, the stark white teeth of the three dogs' split heads, and the drool dripping from their mouths made Martha's face turn slightly pale.

Or are you suggesting we feed it to the dogs?

Living within the sphere of influence of the Persian Empire, she had indeed witnessed the horrific sight of slave owners feeding slaves to hunting dogs.

laugh!

Just as Martha was lost in thought, she suddenly felt her wrist loosen, and a familiar sense of power surged through her limbs and bones.

The purple-haired saintess looked at the divine rune ring on her wrist that was gradually breaking and dissipating, her face showing a moment of astonishment.

"you……"

Samael leaned against a blue stone, yawned listlessly, clapped his hands, and Cerberus, the hellhound, dragged the dragon Tarasque, whose tail was sticking out of its shell, all the way to Marda.

"Alright, I've said everything I needed to say. Any more rambling would be pointless. Here, here's your dragon back. Let's go."

It turns out that he brought me here late at night just to retrieve my dragon.

"why?"

Martha calmed down and composed herself, still somewhat incredulous.

"The matter of your assassination attempt on the king has not been settled yet. When the routine inspection comes tomorrow, I won't be able to hide it anymore. Even if I wanted to protect you then, it probably wouldn't be so easy."

Samael touched his aching chest and responded irritably, then paused, pointed to the fading night, and gave a serious reminder.

"Let's hurry and leave before dawn. I told you the seal was unstable. You injured me and then rode off on this one."

"I don't understand why you let me go. We're clearly enemies..."

Martha pursed her cherry lips, still somewhat incredulous.

“Those wounded soldiers are enemies just like you, yet you still treated them and eased their pain. Anyway, we’ve said everything we needed to say, so there’s no point in going on and on. Now that the Greek army is assembled, they have an absolute advantage. The Persians won’t miss you, whether you’re here or not. Letting you go is a reward for our good deeds.”

Samael waved his hand casually and decided to get straight to the point, not forgetting to add a sarcastic remark at the end.

"Heh, don't think that only your Lord understands 'forgiveness' and 'kindness'."

"Aren't you afraid I'll go back and fight the Greeks?"

Martha still felt like she was dreaming, frowning and asking questions.

"Now that you mention it, I feel a little guilty. How about this, even if I let you go back, I can't ask for nothing. Given your personality, you probably don't want to see bloodshed, right?"

"Wars waged by those in power should not cost ordinary people their blood. If Persia is driven to the brink of collapse, I hope you can persuade the Persians to lay down their arms and surrender, thus reducing unnecessary killing. Greece will treat prisoners well and guarantee the safety of those who surrender."

Samael thought for a moment, his eyes flickered slightly, and then he looked up and made a serious suggestion.

Should the wars waged by those in power not require ordinary people to pay a bloody price?

Martha, recalling the sight of the Greek army she had witnessed during the day, felt a sense of powerlessness. After pondering Samael's words for a moment, she remained lost in thought for a long time before slowly nodding.

Then, under Samael's watchful eye, the purple-haired saintess led her mount over, leaped onto the monster's back, and prepared to escape the prison camp.

However, in order to draw a clear line between them, Martha paused and pondered silently before leaving.

"King of the Greeks, although I thank you for your pardon, I must say that my faith in the Lord is unwavering. If we meet again on the battlefield, I will show no mercy!"

"Okay, take care, don't bother seeing me off. Also, um... let's sleep together sometime!"

Samael's lips curled into a malicious smile. Upon hearing this, the purple-haired saintess in the distance trembled violently, stumbled, and almost fell off the dragon's back.

Instantly, the figures of the dragon and the man sped up and disappeared into the night.

After a moment, the ancient serpent narrowed its vertical pupils, took out the bottle of pink potion from its pocket, and examined it with interest, seemingly muttering something unintentionally.

The game is about to begin...

Chapter 191 Mediation and Coercion

Late at night, in Tanbei Canyon, at the Persian camp.

Inside the makeshift medical tents, the screams and groans of wounded soldiers rose and fell. Basins of filthy blood, severed limbs, or fragments of organs were abandoned in the desolate ravines.

In terms of medicine, the Persian Empire was far inferior to the Panhellenic Union. In fact, several Persian emperors even brought in Greek doctors to serve the royal family in the court.

Therefore, the mortality rate of Persian wounded soldiers was consistently much higher than that of the Greeks.

Gradually, a strong stench of blood permeated the air, and even the drifting mist seemed to be tinged with a dark red hue.

Furthermore, the slave soldiers continued to carry lifeless corpses into the ravines and set them on fire, the acrid smell of burnt protein drifting outwards on the wind.

In the flickering lamplight of the camp, the patrolling team, their armor clattering, couldn't dispel the oppressive and fearful atmosphere that spread throughout the area.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the Persian camp, the holy fire blazed brightly.

A group of undead soldiers, hidden in the darkness and guarding this place, cast intertwined, mottled shadows, spreading a chilling aura all around.

Snapped……

Inside the bright white tent with flame patterns, the handsome saint with long golden hair casually closed an ancient parchment scroll, his fiery red pupils, like torches, looking down at the figure kneeling on one knee below.

"So, he let you come back on his own initiative?"

"As you can see, Your Highness."

Martha nodded solemnly and briefly recounted her experiences to the saint.

Of course, some unpleasant content, such as using someone as a body pillow or "sleeping together when we have time," has been removed.

Upon hearing that the Greek army seemed to be continuously expanding its forces and receiving widespread support, the people inside the tent all paled, and the atmosphere around them almost froze with oppression.

Yesterday's skirmish resulted in a crushing defeat for our army, and this wasn't even the Greeks' full strength!

Now, thousands of Persian warships in the rear have been annihilated, and the Chaos Sea, which was meant to be their retreat route, has been blocked by the deep-sea fleet; in front, Thermopylae Pass is also blocked by a large army, which has become an insurmountable barrier to the offensive.

Now, the Persian army, trapped in the Tanbei Gorge, is like a rat trapped in a bellows, blocked from both sides and with no way to advance or retreat. Sooner or later, they will be devoured by the Greeks who have the upper hand.

Just as the decision-makers were at their wits' end, Martha recalled what she had seen along the way, gritted her teeth, and looked up at the saint on the throne to make a suggestion.

“Your Highness, to be honest, I have seen the situation inside Thermopylae. There is no point in continuing this war any longer, and the Greeks seem to have no intention of fighting us to the death. If you are willing to give up, I am willing to go to Thermopylae again as an envoy to persuade that man to make peace with Persia.”

"How dare you! You betray the glory of the Lord and turn to your enemies!"

The golden-haired saint's face was cold and indifferent. His murderous divine might swept outwards like a tidal wave, causing many of the weaker participants in the tent to tremble violently, turn pale, and feel a sense of fear welling up in their hearts, as if they were ants facing a giant.

At the same time, three pairs of burning, light-like wings emerged from behind the throne, and a dark red cross sword hung above everyone's heads, like a torch burning the world.

Martha, who was the first to be hit, was struck as if by lightning. Her back was bent by the terrifying force field. She braced herself with her hands on the ground, and the bricks and stones beneath her feet shattered. A trickle of crimson blood spilled from the corner of the purple-haired saint's mouth.

“Your Highness, please calm down. This child simply couldn’t bear to see so many sacrifices. Compassion is a gift from God to humankind.”

As the dark red cross-shaped greatsword grew ever more imposing, a soothing melody came from the right. King David, holding a harp, played a psalm and stepped into the storm field with difficulty, pleading with the saint on the throne.

“The hypocrisy of evildoers can only be hidden before the Lord, while the righteousness of the devout can be openly appealed to the Lord. It is clear that this child has not abandoned salvation.”

Immediately, the Queen of Sheba on the left, with her bright eyes, subtly defended Martha to the saint.

"That's just how reality is. Does God not tolerate frank words and actions?"

Immediately afterwards, the Sword Child Bartras also stepped forward. The red and black demonic flames on his armor countered the suppression of divine power, and he pondered softly.

"Blasphemy, shut up!"

The saint roared coldly, his eyes burning like flames.

"What blasphemy? Why are you yelling so loudly? If you want to fight, let's go outside and practice! You cower in fear whenever you run into that Greek guy during the day. You only know how to bully your own people. I've had my eye on you pretty boy for a long time!"

Felido impatiently picked at his ear, a cold smile on his face. He summoned his spear, his aura surging, and confronted the dark red cross sword in mid-air. The surging ether caused the surrounding curtains to flutter loudly.

What the hell!

Sister, we're trying to mediate a fight, not to force someone to submit!

King David and the Queen of Sheba, who were eager to exonerate their descendants, were caught in the middle and complained bitterly.

hum! ! !

Just as the warlike and restless Asura King licked his cherry lips, he actually felt a little eager to try. The saint on the throne had a cold and sluggish gaze. The ancient parchment scrolls were flipped open with a rustling sound, and seven dark red imprints of different shapes emerged from the scrolls, humming and vibrating.

The seven riders present had their corresponding markings light up, and their expressions changed drastically. An irresistible power struck their souls; it was an inviolable destiny.

What the hell does this have to do with us?

Cain, pale-faced and trembling inside, nearly suffered a relapse of the injuries he had just suppressed, and cursed under his breath.

However, after a simple warning, the overwhelming momentum vanished in an instant.

The sage on the jade throne closed the ancient scroll, his gaze softened, and his voice deepened.

"Glory, majesty, power, and authority belong to the Lord. Spirits who serve the light, do not forget to keep reverence in your hearts."

Step aside, I have no intention of pursuing the matter further…

Summoned by the Holy Grail and controlled by the Book of Destiny and the Seven Seals, the Heroic Spirits twitched and wisely shut their mouths. Even someone as powerful as Frida couldn't help but feel apprehensive and fell silent with a cold snort.

Moreover, this saint has already made some concessions in his handling of Martha.

After a moment of silence inside the tent, the saint's crimson eyes flickered, and he opened his lips to ask a question in a low voice.

"Is that foreign king injured?"