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Melqart, the god of storms, a deity of nomads, was naturally capricious, even more so after being provoked in such a manner by Gilgamesh.
Of course, even if another god stood before this King of Heroes who scorned the world, they probably wouldn't be able to endure such an insult to divine dignity.
Thus, the god, with the physique of a two-meter-tall, robust man, laughed heartily.
However, anyone could hear the unparalleled fury within that extremely hearty laughter, a fury that signified the boundless wrath of the God-King.
No matter how magnificent his magnanimity, no matter how generous he was, this did not mean he would accept this contempt so easily.
"You who speak so wantonly, surely you don't believe these fellows are truly qualified to fight me? If you have even a shred of pride left as a hero, then come and fight me yourself!"
Melqart forcefully swung his massive palm, and with its movement, a piercing sound of wind echoed in the air.
This God-King was truly enraged. But, how could such a fellow, no matter how furious, affect Gilgamesh in the slightest?
The King, standing proudly upon the radiant ship of light named Vimana, sneered, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, completely ignoring Melqart's provocation.
Or perhaps, to him, mongrels he did not acknowledge had no qualification to even speak with him from the very beginning.
"Well then, take this mongrel's head for this King!"
Gilgamesh, with his deep, magnetic voice, filled with a majesty that scorned everything, commanded the knights behind him.
No one blindly responded to him. The reply to his command was only the sound of swords being drawn, a sound that resounded through the heavens.
One by one, treasured swords, painstakingly forged by the most skilled artisans, were drawn from sheaths exquisitely crafted from the pelts of magical beasts.
Fighting spirit enveloped these knights. Not a single one uttered a sound, their eyes filled with an iron-blooded coldness and endless killing intent.
Even though they had not been Heroic Spirits for long, every one of them knew what they bore, what they shouldered.
They, who were already the cream of the crop among knights, had reached the pinnacle of humanity in both the crucial aspect of martial arts and the most fundamental physical attributes. After becoming Heroic Spirits, they were even capable of contending with low-tier Heroic Spirits from the Type-Moon world.
At this moment, this army composed of several hundred individuals had as its target the Heretic God before them, an existence at the very apex of this world.
The god named Melqart, upon sensing this wave of murderous aura, couldn't help but reveal a slight smile.
"Indeed, as cannon fodder to wear down my stamina, you are sufficient. Well then, Heroic Spirits, offer your valor to me, Melqart!"
He roared thus, completely ignoring the wound on his body caused by the golden sword still embedded in him, from which golden divine blood gushed.
Such an injury was merely the last flicker of a dying flame. What had been shattered by the 'Golden Sword that Rips Apart Divinity' was not just his physical body, but also his very Authorities.
At least, according to the detection of the miko of the Azure Black Cross, this Heretic God named Melqart, the Authority of storms he possessed, and those two divine tools forged by the god of craftsmen, had all been torn apart by the golden sword.
At this moment, it could be said that he was weaker than ever before. Of course, even if he were slain by humans now, they would not gain his Authority.
It was precisely because of this that Gilgamesh had no desire to act himself. Dealing with such a severely wounded enemy was too detrimental to a King's dignity.
As for waiting for his injuries to recover.
How laughable. As the master of this territory, how could Gilgamesh tolerate this mongrel who had come to his land to wreak havoc?
Therefore.
The knights silently raised their longswords high, then, in unison, chanted incantations for their own protection. And those magi and witches standing behind the Heroic Spirit Knights also opened their grimoires, bestowing blessings upon these knights.
Various kinds of magical formulas were layered upon these Heroic Spirit Knights, one after another. Their already terrifying power was now, at this moment, barely able to contend with the God-King before them.
And at the same time, Melqart fiercely pulled out the 'Golden Sword that Rips Apart Divinity' embedded in his chest.
Golden divine blood sprayed out like a torrential downpour. In no time, this land was dyed gold.
Then, the Authority of 'God of Life' was activated by Melqart. A moment later, his massive wound had returned to its original state.
However, contrary to this, his divinity, which had already been fractured by the golden sword, suffered even greater trauma. The time required for recovery would be more than ten times longer than before.
But, even so, it was still better than having this wound exploited as a weak point by these Heroic Spirit Knights, leading to his direct demise.
After all, whether these two Authorities were shattered for a few hours or a few days would have no impact on this battle. As for the Eastern God of War who might threaten him later, that was a consideration for that time.
After all, if he, a God-King, were to die so foolishly at the hands of these Heroic Spirits, it would be far too pathetic.
That would be even worse than being defeated by that Heretic God from Zoroastrianism.
Therefore, Melqart intended to go all out.
"All units, hear my command!"
Liliana raised the 'Durandal' in her hand horizontally and shouted loudly to the knights behind her.
"The enemy is a god bearing the name of Heretic, the god named Melqart! His remaining Authorities are likely Life and Harvest. Therefore, we must achieve a swift victory!"
Her clear voice was incredibly resonant. Upon the platinum-gold longsword in her hand, inlaid with gold trim, a sacred aura gradually gathered.
"My Llords and Ladies, offer the head of this Heretic God to our King!"
Liliana spoke thus, gently brandishing the longsword in her hand. Her silver-white hair swayed lightly with the glinting sword light.
This young girl, clad in the light blue knightly attire that only a great knight could bear, her light blue eyes, as clear as the azure sky, were filled with an incredibly solemn fighting spirit, and absolute confidence.
Confidence in this war against a god. Regardless, at this moment, these knights, who were originally like mere insects, now, under the protection of their lord, possessed the qualification to clash with the lofty Heretic God.
Therefore, whether for the King behind her, or for her own honor as a knight.
No matter what, the victory in this war, I, Liliana, will definitely seize it!