The gods never care how much trouble they bring to humanity.
Humans and gods, even after the age of mythology ended, despite sharing similar appearances, remain parallel lines that never et.
Yet humans always pursue the gods, worship them. More than that, there are so who choose to rally behind those who can defeat even the gods.
To revere the strong and follow the strong—this is instinctual for humans.
Gods may be revered, but not easily followed. But soone who can defeat a god is different.
The Egyptians ca to this far eastern land with such thoughts in mind.
The Hittites, Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, and even the later people of the Western lands—
One civilization and people after another have risen and fallen. The Egyptians watched it all, and the truth was clear: human strength does not last.
Only the radiance of the gods is eternal.
And those who can defeat even the gods—humans who earn the title of God-Slayer, kings among n—those are the ones worth following.
Of course, the one to be defeated must be a god from your own pantheon—those are the real bosses!
The ferocious Set fell. Then, the great Osiris too. Anyone who could achieve such feats—surely they were worthy of being followed?
As the city ca into view, the Egyptians, previously worn and exhausted, seed to regain their strength.
The most dangerous place in the world—where a God-Slayer resides—is also a land filled with opportunity.
This opportunity might be the very thing to bring a new beginning to the Nine Gods Group.
And now, what they had to do was simple: find the thief.
Of course, they wouldn't punish him themselves—they would seek out that great King and express their deepest respect, sincerely requesting that the great King serve as their arbiter of justice.
Perfect! Absolutely perfect!
"This is simply perfect!" Mahmoud exclaid as he gazed upon the city, laughing heartily, his heart full of joy.
These stupid Japanese had no clue how to deal with a God-Slayer. Look at everything they've done—idiots! Don't call yourselves human, you're dragging down the collective IQ!
Let my glorious Horus cult show you how a real intelligent human behaves!
"Yeah, brother! This plan is just too perfect!" Hazazi laughed loudly beside him—they finally caught that crazy driver.
Ti to drive! Drive! He was gonna drive! From now on, if his brother hit him again, he'd start the car and run!
The other Egyptians were also laughing. Damn, they finally made it. So tired!
These Japanese people were the worst—losing a fight and then refusing to give them a ride? That's not how a man behaves!
So many magical items wasted too! They had to get compensation from Japan later! Definitely!
But regardless, they'd made it.
Step by step, filled with excitent, the Egyptian magicians entered Chiba—once unremarkable, now a na that made the global magical community shudder.
But within just five minutes, their mood completely changed.
After conducting another round of divinations and prophecies...
"What did you say?"
Staring at the subordinate most skilled in divination, Mahmoud's heart raced.
"The thief is... the great King's blood relative?"
"More precisely... his father..." the prophet responded ekly.
Pitiful as it was, the Egyptian magicians' intelligence network was truly lacking.
Due to the organization's extre decline, their foreign operations relied almost entirely on divination and prophecy.
Mahmoud's team was no different—in fact, they'd traveled this far by relying solely on it.
And this subordinate was currently Egypt's top diviner. He had almost perfectly predicted everything they'd encounter on the journey from Egypt.
Almost.
Because now, there was a mistake...
But that shouldn't have been possible.
God-Slayers and gods are fundantally different, and the divination arts had been refined over millennia—there shouldn't be any errors.
Egyptian magic is inseparable from religious worship.
From the start, their magic relied on divine power to resist evil. Later, they could even call down specific gods. Egyptian priests were once world-renowned, known as wise magicians.
Divination and prophecy were their specialty, as these were the most direct manifestations of divine power.
Their ans of invoking divine power—amulets, spells, and symbols—centered around amulets, their primary magical tools.
This reliance was why Egyptian magic needed so many magical items.
"How could it go wrong..." Mahmoud muttered to himself.
The thief wasn't actually that important. Even the stolen artifact didn't matter much in the face of reviving the Nine Gods Group.
But now, how were they supposed to proceed? Were they supposed to go up to the God-Slayer and say, "Sir, your father stole our stuff. Please help us beat him up"?
Don't be ridiculous. They ca to pledge loyalty, rember?
What the hell was with this family? The son becos a God-Slayer—does the father want to follow suit? What is this, grocery shopping?
Mahmoud began to doubt his earlier decisions.
"No!" He clenched his teeth. "We can't give up halfway!"
He wasn't alone in this thought—everyone else nodded along.
Don't joke—do you know how many magical items they used on the way here? It was insane. Sure, it felt great spending that much for once, but... a ton of those items were on loan, okay?
Go back empty-handed? Might as well give up on life and start repaying debts full-ti!
"Huh? Why is everyone so down all of a sudden?" Hazazi's voice rang out among them.
He successfully earned himself a round of glares.
"Quiet." Mahmoud waved him off. "We're thinking. That's not your strong suit."
"Brother, if you keep this up, I'm not talking to you anymore!" Hazazi huffed.
"Oh? Got a better idea?"
"Hmph! Divination never fails on people! Didn't everything go smoothly until now?" Hazazi puffed up proudly and squeezed next to Mahmoud, his face suddenly lit up like he had discovered a great truth. "So, a god must've appeared!"
"A god?"
Everyone looked at each other.
Damn... That actually makes sense. We can't even argue with that logic!
"But how could a god appear?" soone finally asked. "God-Slayers and gods can't coexist in the sa space."
"That's easy!" Hazazi looked at him with contempt. "The god must be a woman!"
"..." Everyone fell silent again.
This guy finally said one thing that made sense—and now he's back to nonsense?
"Am I wrong? A god who doesn't fight a God-Slayer must be a woman!" Hazazi declared with confidence.
Everyone looked at each other again.
Confird! He's still a moron! When the hell did gods have genders in that way!?
"Enough!" Mahmoud slapped his thigh. A leader must be decisive, not hesitate. "Since we're here, we can't give up. Outsiders think God-Slayers don't care for loyal followers—but we know that's not true.
History proves that as great kings, they still retain human hearts.
But only true power can attract them! Only true power holds the most precious knowledge—knowledge of the gods!"
"Stick to the plan. Just flip the script—we won't ntion the thief at all. We'll go straight up and pledge our loyalty to the King!" He sneered. "The divinations clearly show that Japan's sorcerers have never truly pledged themselves to the King.
They foolishly think they can control him.
This is our chance. Don't hesitate. In the na of Ra, we must revive our gods!"
"In the na of Ra!"
At Mahmoud's words, all the Egyptians stood solemnly, shouting in unison.
But they weren't calling out the na of the god.
They were calling the na of a great city—now known as Cairo, but once called The Land of the Gods in ancient Egypt.
The Egyptians once more stepped forward.
This ti, there was no hesitation. Their hearts were calm.
Whatever the outco, they would have no regrets.
The Egyptians encountered another obstacle on their way to the Hikigaya residence.
Once again, the prophecy proved accurate—the opponent appeared "on schedule," but this ti, it wasn't Japanese jujutsu sorcerers.
It was a group of martial artists.
Of course, all of this had been within the Egyptians' expectations.
Their divinations had shown that Chiba had long since beco the largest stronghold of Yomi martial artists in the East.
Because their master was none other than Hikigaya Hachiman.
"Yomi warriors, why do you block our path?" Mahmud shouted as he repelled a martial artist of Southeast Asian descent with a raised hand. "We are not your enemies."
But the Yomi warriors paid no heed to his goodwill.
"Mahmud of the Nine Gods Group, you're wrong. Any existence that could possibly threaten the princess must be eliminated." Reflected in Mahmud's tightening pupils was the silhouette of a woman.
"—what do you an by this?" Mahmud's expression turned solemn as he stared at the woman stepping out from among the Yomi warriors.
It was Kushinada Mikumo, one of the Nine Fists of the Shadow—a na so fearso it was known even in Egypt. Or rather, anyone at Mahmud's level had heard of the "Demon Fist."
Mahmud wasn't afraid of Japan's jujutsu sorcerers.
The sorcery in this Eastern country was deeply tainted with a strange, ominous aura.
Much of it relied on the power of entities they called "Oni" or "gods," but in the eyes of Egyptians, those were demons, easily overpowered by Egyptian magic.
Martial arts, however, were a different matter. The power known as "Ki" held no demonic taint, making it a true rival to the Egyptians.
An organization like "Yomi," which collected powerful martial arts from all over the world, struck precisely at the soft underbelly of the Nine Gods Group.
If absolutely necessary, Mahmud would have to expend another round of magical artifacts. But before that, he was reluctant to give up on negotiation. A battle like this would be aningless.
"We only wish to serve the Great King. How are we a threat? And who is this princess?"
"You don't know?" Kushinada Mikumo smiled. "The King's sister, of course—that's the princess."
That, of course, wasn't the real reason.
She simply didn't want these Egyptians to et Hikigaya Hachiman.
Unlike Japan's formal Compilation Committee, these Egyptians possessed the capability to beco a significant threat to Yomi's influence over Hachiman.
People often said "There cannot be two suns in the sky." That wasn't entirely accurate. There were multiple "dark suns"—a dozen or more—and it hadn't caused problems.
But the person closest to the sun? That could only ever be one.
So people are never satisfied. Others are too easily content. Neither of those types could ever be that one. The forr reach too far; the latter lack the ambition. In critical monts, neither can bear the burden.
Only soone who is both content and skillful at using that contentnt can truly sit in that seat.
Mahmud was undoubtedly such a person.
As the leader of the Nine Gods Group, the knowledge he possessed was far more attractive to Hachiman than anything she could offer.
Even if she threw in her body, it wouldn't be enough—of course, that was assuming Hachiman was even interested in the first place.
Kushinada Mikumo didn't understand gods. But she knew how to identify a true threat.
"Nonsense!" Unsurprisingly, such words infuriated Mahmud. "If you're determined to obstruct us, then let there be battle!"
He pulled out an ankh.
In ancient Egypt, the ankh symbolized "life." Composed of a cross and a ring, it resembled the image of the sun rising over the horizon, symbolizing daily rebirth. It also represented air and water—essential elents of life.
In Egypt's golden age, only pharaohs, kings, queens, and gods were permitted to carry this symbol of extraordinary power. Possessing it ant holding life and death in their hands.
In magical texts, the ankh was often seen alongside symbols for "power" and "health." Later on, it beca known as the "Egyptian Cross" or "Key of Life." Its key-like shape led people to believe it had the mystical power to unlock the "Gate of Death."
As a magical item, the horizontal and vertical lines of the T-shaped cross represented female and male forces. This blend of yin and yang made the ankh a symbol of fertility and creativity.
It was a trendously powerful magical artifact, difficult to craft. Mahmud would never waste such a rare item unless absolutely necessary. But if his opponent was a giant of the Darkness like Kushinada Mikumo, he had no choice.
Except—he never got the chance to use it.
It wasn't Mikumo or anyone else who stopped him.
It was because the one who ca was not human.
"So it is you… disturbing My labor."
No one could tell how it all began.
A powerful aura of intimidation robbed everyone of their strength, dropping them to their knees as if paralyzed. Their vision blurred; they could only see a hazy figure.
That figure alone was enough to strike such terror that it felt like even breathing was impossible.
Mahmud's ankh had already fallen to the ground. He didn't even have the courage to pick it up. Instead, he clutched tightly at the Eye of Horus pendant on his chest.
And then—he saw Her.
A wail echoed in his heart.
There was no doubt—That was a god. Even using the Eye of Horus, he could only barely make out a half-ethereal figure.
Revered by humans. Feared by humans. Impossible to resist. Even the thought of resistance was a luxury one could not afford. Before mythology was born, these mighty beings were strong, but they could not control human thought.
But after the mythic age began, humans no longer even had the freedom to think before them.
With a single thought, a god could control all of a person—even their death.
Unless that person was a God-Slayer.
Only a God-Slayer could see a god's true form, even when the god wished not to be seen.
"Ketians… what have you co here for?"
The god's voice entered Mahmud's ears. It was a female voice.
In an instant, every Egyptian present—Mahmud included—was overwheld by a thought that absolutely should not have occurred at that mont:
Wait, she's a goddess!? What the hell!? That idiot was actually right!?
In a world this irrational, how the hell is anyone supposed to live? Sobody please just send down lightning and put them out of their misery.
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