Chapter 1002: with translation of chapter title

Of course, big sister." Achilles pointed at the blond youth in the sky canopy, "Olympus cannot possibly possess the power of 【Abundance】; this guy's 'immortality' is completely different from the blade—but is his immortality eternal and deathless, or does it have a flaw? That's interesting."

When he was young, his mother, the sea goddess Thetis, wanted to grant him divine immortality, and she scorched his body with holy fire; but his father Peleus wanted to keep him as a mortal side, leaving his heel as such a flaw, making him a hero infinitely close to god.

If Wandi could "perfectly" refuse death, there is no doubt he would be even closer to "god" than the Titans that can be killed and replaced. But he still fears the Titans somewhat... Could it be that he also has a flaw similar to a "heel"?

"Do you think Wandi also has an experience like yours?" Atalanta gazed at the distant sun gradually setting into the mountains.

Achilles laughed, he put his hands behind his head: "Who knows? Anyway, I'm becoming more and more curious about this group of Golden Heirs; they're not like Pathseekers, nor are they mortals... rather like heroes walked out of myth. If the Holy Grail exists in Olympus, perhaps one day after they die, they could be summoned by the Holy Grail to become powerful Servants."

——

"We are so close to the downfall of a Titan... this feeling is very unreal."

Wandi: "There's no need to regard it as a god anymore; you, I, it—are merely warriors caught in a death struggle, nothing more."

The three passed through the Soul-Forging Zone and arrived before a tightly shut door. Bai E wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling that the surrounding air was about to be ignited.

Every breath of air drawn into the lungs felt like swallowing fire; the nasal passages were filled with the smell of iron rust and a faint bloodiness. Bai E looked around, tightly clenching his fists nervously: "That sense of oppression... is back again. Do you feel it, Xing? But that aura is no longer pure; it's mixed with the smell of blood and the wails of the dead."

"My destined fate... lies behind this door."

Bai E reached out and pressed his hand against the massive door; at the moment his palm made contact, he almost felt the pulse of the existence beyond—thump, thump, like war drums beating, like thunder rolling behind dark clouds.

The rust-covered hinges squeaked, and the final door was flung open. A more intense wave of heat surged out from within, blood-like light spilling over the three of them; everything in their sight began to blur and grow distant, as if seen through a layer of melting glass.

Wandi noticed Bai E's discomfort, but he merely stepped forward and lightly reminded: "Don't forget, we stand here because of your persistence. Then bring out that damned resolve."

Bai E took a deep breath, his expression solemn: "How am I supposed to pretend this is just an ordinary battle? My mission, my meaning... are all staked here. Have you forgotten? The suffering of our people... our eroded homeland..."

"Of course I won't forget. But I've mastered a technique you might not understand." Wandi slowly clenched his fist, as if grasping something invisible, tightening his fingers one by one: "All regret and anger, at times like this, I've learned to control them, forging them into an incredibly sharp weapon for my use..." Wandi said each word deliberately, "It has a simple name: killing intent."

Bai E forced a faint smile: "You really are a beast. But now, perhaps we should all yield to our inner beast."

"Rotten god! Face me, welcome your doom!"

Wandi walked step by step toward Nicadoli; with the echo of his roar, the silent Titan on the platform awoke.

Its massive body began to extend, the spear in its grip tightened, and it roared, locking its gaze upon the three god-slayers.

Yet Wandi felt no fear at all; his roar erupted from his chest, fierce and scorching, each word striking the hall like molten lava: "I am the son of the spear's tip, the Golden Heir of the divine proclamation. I bring you the fairest price—"

"I will exchange my thousand scars and a hundred lives for your glorious death in legend!"

——

Demon Slayer

Nicadoli's roar was like a thousand-jin weight, pressing heavily in the narrow alleys of Yoshiwara, pressing upon the faint string music behind the paper windows. Like the afterecho of thunder, it kept pounding in everyone's ears.

It made people's hearts pound so hard they didn't know what to do.

Daki lay prone on the tatami, her body trembling slightly. Her exquisite, usually arrogant and unrestrained face was pressed tightly against the cold mat; her fingers dug desperately into the gaps of the straw mat as she struggled to draw deep breaths.

"This is the Titan... brother..."

Daki felt her voice being squeezed out from between her teeth, constantly trembling. It wasn't her usual speaking voice—rather, it was the sound of a creature's instinctive fear in the presence of a mighty being.

This sense of oppression surpassed even that of Upper Rank Two, and even surpassed that of Lord Muzan—

"My lovely little sister..."

Gyutaro's half-body "grew" out from behind Daki, his gaunt arms wrapping around her neck, forcibly "prying" her head up from the ground.

"Ah... you mustn't have such thoughts again, no matter how terrifying Nicadoli is, he's still a god of Olympus. For us demons, we have only one god—you won't forget, right?"

Daki felt her voice trembling: "Y-yes... that lord."

"Hmm. Daki, if you're afraid of Nicadoli, come to me."

Gyutaro rested his chin on top of her head.

His two slender arms came around, not slipping under her armpits but extending from her shoulders. She could feel her brother's ribs brushing against her spine, feel his breath grazing the back of her neck—that familiar breath, tinged with a hint of earth, something she'd been accustomed to since she could remember.

From when she was still a child, from when they were curled up in the dark corners of the pleasure district, from when she cried from hunger and cold—her brother was just like that, resting his chin on her head, wrapping those two slender arms around her like a tattered umbrella.

"Daki, my timid little sister... lift your head boldly—Nicadoli isn't that scary, right?"

Daki shrank back a little: "Mm... with my brother here, I'm not afraid."