Achilles never imagined that the glory he had always dreamed of would be claimed by someone else so easily.
Hector also never anticipated it.
That he would one day face the true hero of Troy.
On this grand stage where all of Greece fixed their gaze.
Under the anticipating eyes of the gods, this true contest between heroes was about to begin.
On the surface, Night was the glory of Greece and Greece's last hope.
In reality, it was a battle where all honor would go to Troy.
An internal affair.
The moment Hector, fully armed, stepped onto the battlefield, the dense and refined spirit gathered in his whole body made even Athena and Ares look on in admiration.
"He is serious..."
"Who do you think will win?"
"If Hector lets his guard down, then I choose Griffith..." The gods exchanged loose talk up in the heavens.
That last line came from some god or another.
The moment Athena heard it she immediately understood what it meant.
The flip side of that statement was that as long as Hector did not let his guard down, the result was already decided, was it not?
Would it end with Griffith's defeat?
After all, even though he defeated Penthesilea, Penthesilea and Hector were still not on the same level.
Everyone believed Hector was under tremendous pressure right now, which was why he carried that expression of giving everything with such gravity.
But at this moment only Hector himself knew down on the earth...
From the moment he saw the look in Night's eyes, he already understood.
That was the look of someone yearning for a grand and spectacular battle.
As a friend, as a brother, he chose to fulfill the other party's wish.
And it was also to draw a closing line under this unconventional debut battle.
Come then! Let me see just how strong you have become now, my friend!
"Hector!! Hector! Hector!!" When the strongest warrior of Troy stepped onto the battlefield, countless Trojan soldiers suddenly let out a roar in unison, crying out for their supreme commander.
He was their faith!
After the demigod's defeat and Paris's disgrace, Hector had already become the final pillar holding up the morale of the entire army.
King Agamemnon, hoping Night could take down one more victory and cut down this pillar, led the soldiers in a roar of his own, calling out Griffith's name.
"Griffith!!"
"Griffith! Griffith! Griffith!!"
Amidst the battle cries of both sides cheering them on.
The two men's eyes met, and yet they had long since forgotten their surroundings.
At this moment it felt as though only the two of them remained.
Neither said a word. They were clearly very familiar with each other.
And yet they had to pretend to be strangers.
But in the clash of their fighting spirit and their souls, they had already each fully understood what the other held in their heart at this moment.
Night: "..."
I have been waiting for this day for a long time.
In my most difficult moments, whenever my heart was pulled tight with enormous pressure, never able to relax for even an instant, a man like this appeared before my eyes.
No matter how powerful the opponent, he would never give up.
He loved his homeland and his people, used his spear to protect his countrymen, and held firm in his faith without wavering.
In the moment before his death, even knowing what kind of despair awaited him, he still swallowed that despair and walked forward at my side.
His spear knew no hesitation, and his sword could dispel all fear.
Carrying everything on his shoulders, knowing that this kind of resolve would continue for more than ten years and finally, at its most brilliant moment, achieve its offering and sacrifice of self.
A spirit this strong and this radiant.
No one could help being drawn to the outstanding qualities within him.'
It was precisely this powerful and resolute will that helped him through the first and most difficult stretch of his road, and while it filled him with longing, his own will was also inevitably strengthened and steadied because of it.
And how different was the image he presented in Hector's eyes at this moment?
He shone even more brilliantly.
After all, for Hector who existed in this one and only world, Night with his single life, everything he did at every step was a crystallization of shining courage.
They loved and admired a friend like this.
But now they also wanted to test their strength against such a powerful rival.
That would surely be a deeply satisfying thing.
"Let us settle this once and for all... the hero Grif..fith!!" When Hector finally opened his mouth and spoke the first words since stepping onto the battlefield, in the next moment he moved.
At the same time...
Night's strikingly beautiful face also broke into a smile!
A smile of pure and heartfelt joy.
Even his chief goddess in the heavens above, the pure Artemis, lost herself for a moment because of it.
One could imagine how devastating a smile it was.
All the gods were left stunned!
Boom!!
Two divine spears intertwined like lightning. Crash! Thunder exploded.
The sound came from the collision between them, and yet people almost mistook it for the great god Zeus wielding his authority once more.
What a heart-stirring sight!
In this battle fought without Achilles present, it felt like a contest for the title of the greatest warrior in all of Greece right now.
Then a fierce and intense fight broke out.
Divine spear against divine spear, holy sword against holy sword.
Two warriors who both possessed extraordinary martial skill instantly sent spears and swords sweeping like a curtain of rain, airtight and weaving into a screen of silver.
The air was filled everywhere with afterimages...
The ferocity of the battle shot up immediately to a level comparable to the final clash between Night and Penthesilea earlier.
But compared to pure savagery, it was also far more spectacular to watch.
Martial skill and technique were things used to achieve victory over superior opponents, to draw even greater strength out of the human body.
Against Penthesilea, Night could still rely on pure instinct alone, even throwing down his weapons and fighting like a beast, just for the joy of it.
But now it was the peak combination of instinct and technique.
He brought every weapon at his disposal to bear.
But after crossing swords with Hector, Night finally felt Hector's true strength.
No matter how fast his thrusts came, the other party could follow his rhythm with ease.
This heart-stirring discovery made him even more excited, his blood boiling and roaring like a rampaging dark dragon.
Faster, stronger!
With this in mind, he even began to forget everything else and wanted only to defeat the powerful opponent before him.
Both sides felt that fighting spirit...
Impressive!
Hector's heart was full of admiration.
In the middle of the fight, he faintly felt a few traces of familiarity from Night's martial skill.
That was probably his own moves, and Achilles's, and it even seemed like there might be some of Aeneas's?
No, that was probably an illusion.
Night had no chance to come into contact with Aeneas.
The two did not know each other.
But it was only a sense of familiarity.
Unless one knew them very well, it was already completely unrecognizable.
The other party had already fused all of those techniques into one, made them entirely his own, and achieved something entirely new.
This astonishing martial skill brought even Hector a degree of pressure.
The martial technique that had been stuck at a ceiling for a long time seemed to start loosening at last.
No, it was not an illusion.
After another fierce exchange, spear and sword kept crashing together, sending sparks flying.
Both of them sensed it.
They were both continuously improving throughout the fight.
After all, at this point, opponents who could still push them to give everything they had were incredibly rare, incredibly rare!
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(End of the Chapter)