The coliseum erupted into cheers and jeers as the announcement of the next bout rang through the air. The gods were still reeling from Poseidon's shocking defeat, their pride bruised by the unexpected victory of humanity's oldest swordsman, Kojiro Sasaki. Meanwhile, the humans reveled in their newfound hope, clinging to the slim chance of survival Ragnarok offered.
Luxor leaned against the cold marble pillar at the edge of the arena. His hood concealed his celestial features, and his aura was carefully suppressed, ensuring he blended seamlessly with the crowd. Yet, despite his efforts to remain unnoticed, his magnetic presence still drew occasional glances from those nearby.
"Interesting," Luxor muttered, his golden eyes gleaming faintly under the shadow of his hood. "Humanity's spirit burns brighter than I expected. Perhaps there is merit in their struggles after all."
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Zeus Prepares the Stage
The king of the gods, Zeus, stood at the center of the arena, his small frame exuding authority that silenced the raucous crowd. With a mischievous grin, he raised his hands.
"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and mortals, the time has come for the fourth battle! Prepare yourselves for a clash that will shake the heavens and earth alike!"
The crowd roared, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. Luxor tilted his head, amused by the theatrics. Zeus continued, "On the side of humanity, we have the great mystic! The man whose mind unraveled the secrets of the cosmos: Nostradamus!"
A collective gasp rippled through the audience. The prophet stepped into the arena, his youthful face calm and unbothered despite the divine adversary he was about to face.
"And representing the gods," Zeus bellowed, "is none other than the guardian of wisdom, the keeper of knowledge: Athena!"
Athena strode into the arena, her golden armor gleaming under the sun. Her piercing eyes scanned her opponent with measured intensity.
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Luxor's Quiet Observation
Luxor's lips curved into a faint smile as he observed the two combatants. "A battle of intellects, is it?" he mused. "Fascinating, though I wonder how far their knowledge will take them when faced with the raw power of their opponent."
As the battle commenced, Luxor watched with interest. Nostradamus displayed incredible cunning, weaving illusions and exploiting Athena's pride to gain the upper hand. Athena countered with relentless precision, her strikes imbued with divine power. The arena crackled with the energy of their clash, leaving the audience on the edge of their seats.
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A Subtle Intervention
At one critical moment, Nostradamus found himself cornered, his illusions shattered by Athena's divine wisdom. The prophet hesitated, his mortal limitations catching up to him. Luxor's golden eyes narrowed.
"Not yet, mortal. Let me see your spark burn a little longer."
With a flick of his finger, Luxor manipulated the strands of reality. Nostradamus' broken illusion suddenly reformed, this time more vivid and intricate than before. Athena faltered for a split second, her confidence shaken by the sudden resurgence of her opponent's power.
Luxor smirked beneath his hood. "A small push. Let them believe it's their own strength driving them forward."
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The Crowd's Suspicion
Among the audience, a few gods began to murmur, their sharp senses detecting the faintest ripple in the fabric of reality. Hades, seated in the VIP section, narrowed his eyes. "Something... is amiss," he muttered.
Luxor, feeling the faint gaze of the underworld's ruler, remained perfectly still, his presence concealed. "Let them suspect," he thought. "It makes the game more interesting."
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The Tide Turns
Nostradamus, emboldened by the inexplicable surge of his illusions, launched a daring counterattack. Athena, though powerful, was momentarily caught off guard, and the battle reached a climactic peak.
Luxor watched with quiet amusement, his concealed laughter vibrating through the air. "This is the beauty of mortals," he whispered. "Their desperation, their fleeting triumphs—they're so much more entertaining than the predictable egos of gods."
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A World Worth Playing With
As the crowd erupted in cheers for the battle's intense climax, Luxor leaned back against the pillar, his gaze lingering on the stage. There was something intoxicating about this world—its simplicity, its drama, its raw emotional stakes.
"No, this is far from over," Luxor thought, his smirk widening. "I'll stay a little longer. There's much more to see... and much more to play with."
For now, the Sovereign of Existence remained in the shadows, his plans for this world still a mystery. But one thing was certain: the games of Ragnarok had only just begun, and with Luxor's presence, they would never be the same again.
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End of Chapter 9