Snap... crack...
The Ancient Serpent advanced slowly toward the deep pit, its neck and knuckles flexing as its joints cracked with each movent.
Hippones' eyes widened in terror. He scrambled toward the edge of the pit, his wounds bleeding profusely. Yet, thanks to the protection of his marine divine power, the blood was diverted and channeled away.
So, those of divine lineage connected to water and life are just tough. We can take our ti with this!
Samael's lips curled into a cold smile, his gaze sharp and icy.
Pursuit wasn't forbidden, but using such twisted bait, knowing the consequences, filled him with utter disgust.
Originally, the Ancient Serpent had planned to wait until the contest ended, allowing Atalanta—freed from Eros's influence—to personally handle this treacherous mongrel. But unexpectedly, soone couldn't even wait that long, rushing headlong toward reincarnation.
Just as Samael approached the pit, his eyes flickered with hesitation. He considered whether to dispose of this wretched creature on the spot. But before he could act, Atalanta, still in his arms, slamd her head into his jaw.
Seizing the mont while the Ancient Serpent reeled from the blow, the huntress swiftly turned the tables. She pinned him to the grass, straddling his waist, her hands roaming over his body in search of sothing.
"The things... I want..."
Ever since she had absorbed fragnts of Eros's power last ti, Atalanta seed more susceptible to its influence. Her reactions had grown more intense and unpredictable.
Samael, after all, wasn't the Main God of Love. Trying to eliminate the powers contained within all three golden apples in such a short ti was a stretch.
But Atalanta, wriggling wildly and refusing to give him a mont of peace, acted like a cat high on pure catnip. She groped around him, her face flushed as she searched for her prize.
Smack!
Left with no choice, Samael thrust himself forward, pinning the enchanted Atalanta beneath him. His reckless hand involuntarily slapped down on the huntress's pert behind as a form of punishnt.
The soft, springy sensation sent a shiver through the ancient serpent's heart. He couldn't resist raising his claw once more.
Strict punishnt! This situation demands strict punishnt!
Anyway, she's awake now. If I don't say anything, who will know?
Just as he was lost in his thoughts, the ground trembled beneath him. Another contestant, who had stord through the ravine, was hurtling toward the finish line.
Samael snapped back to reality, instinctively rising to his feet. But just as he lifted his leg, Atalanta—driven nearly mad by the scent of the Golden Apple—imdiately wrapped her legs around him, pinning the Ancient Serpent back down.
As if preditated, the armored competitor suddenly accelerated, swiftly overtaking Samael.
"Hey, buddy, taking advantage like this is downright shady, don't you think?"
The Ancient Serpent muttered inwardly, then shalessly seized Atalanta's arm, deftly hooking her ankle to make her stumble.
No more pretending—he was no rule-abiding good snake.
If the competition was thrown off course, why should I bear all the debuffs alone?
Seizing the montum, Samael deliberately rolled forward, colliding with the man ahead and tripping him with a flick of his foot.
That practiced posture showed that Samael had mastered the art of tactical diving.
Yet, just as Samael pinned his rival down and was about to rise, he heard his armor crack. A petite figure wriggled free from beneath the towering armor.
Instinctively, the Ancient Serpent reached out, but the mont he looked up, his pupils dilated, and he froze in place.
Thud.
That brief mont of distraction was all it took. The petite figure, erging from the armor, moved with the agility of a wildcat.
As she neared the finish line, a hurricane-like force surged past, tearing through the earth beneath her feet. She stood before the weapon rack, casually drew a bow and arrow, and fired the first shot high into the air. The panting red-haired woman could only settle for second place.
Samael's jaw clenched in frustration as the ground trembled once more. He couldn't hesitate any longer. He swiftly produced the golden apple and tossed it into the air toward Atalanta, who was still struggling in place. She imdiately turned, her eyes fixed on the apple, and with a low growl, charged forward, becoming the third victor to cross the finish line.
By the ti the red-haired woman had fired her shot, the Ancient Serpent had stord up to Hippolyta. His face was as dark as the bottom of a pot, and he unleashed a torrent of bitter reproach.
"Hey lady, what the hell are you doing?! This is a matchmaking event for n and won—got it? What are you doing here as a woman? Are you a lesbian?"
"What's a lesbian?"
"That's beside the point! And how did you sneak in as a woman? Are the screeners blind?!"
"Oh, you an this? She filled in the na for …"
At that mont, Hippolyta remained calm, pointing seriously at Atalanta, who was groping wildly in Samael's embrace.
She is right beside ?
Samael's breath caught. After a mont of silence, he ripped Atalanta off his body, his expression grave, his gaze filled with grief and anger.
Big Sis, when did you switch tastes? Can we still have fun together?
"Never mind that. She seems ntally unstable. Do you have any solutions?"
Hippolyta noticed distant contestants sprinting toward them and raised her hand to help subdue a certain frenzied feline, exhibiting symptoms akin to catnip withdrawal.
Finally free from Atalanta's clutches, Samael sighed, in a foul mood. He summoned two more Golden Apples from the Magecraft array. Using them as bait, he pulled back the portion of Eros's power swallowed by Big Sis, coalescing it back into the form of the Golden Apple.
So fragrant, so beautiful... I want to hold it in my hands and devour it, bite by bite…
"SMACK!"
A sharp blow to the head jolted Hippolyta awake. Coming to her senses, she realized her fingertips had nearly touched the three crystalline Golden Apples.
Aphrodite's power proved trickier than I anticipated—her level was unexpectedly high.
After awakening the equally bewitched Amazon Queen, Samael furrowed his brow in thought. Monts later, he summoned the fourth—and only genuine—Golden Apple from the Magecraft array.
Monts later, spurred by the Ancient Serpent, the earth's rhythmic pulse stirred. The three golden apples, crystallized by Aphrodite's power, were gradually decomposed and purified by Ishtar's pendant, channeling their essence into the genuine Golden Apple.
Both the highly compatible divine power of the earth and the immortality inherent within the Golden Apple served to effectively seal and preserve this divine power of love.
Through the resonance of the Tablet of Destinies, Samael sensed a vague premonition: keeping this artifact would prove imnsely useful in the future.
Just as these troubleso matters were resolved, Atalanta slowly stirred awake. Her long lashes fluttered slightly, and when her erald pupils opened, they imdiately reflected a familiar face.
"You… I…"
The huntress snapped back to awareness, startled to find herself cradled in Samael's arms. Her cheeks flushed crimson, her head spinning, and she stamred helplessly.
Only after several deep breaths did Atalanta's eyes flicker as she inquired, her tightly clenched hands snapping off innocent blades of grass, squeezing out their erald juice.
"You... you outran ?"
"I suppose so…"
Samael drew out the syllables, replying weakly.
"Then, then we…"
"Then I can take him with , right?"
Just as Atalanta struggled to find the words, Hippolyta leaned in, resting a hand on Samael's shoulder, and reminded him earnestly.
"Per last night's agreent, I outran you. He's mine."
With that, Samael was dragged along by the back of his collar, sliding across the ground.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What was I supposed to do?
What other competitions do these two have?
Seriously, what is this situation?
The dragged-along prize of the contest propped up his chin, his expression solemn as he contemplated the aning of life.
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