Chapter One Hundred Eleven: Isolated and Helpless

At that very moment, Saga unclasped his joined palms, as if compressing an entire cosmos of stars and galaxies into his hands. Behind him, the ethereal figures of countless gods and Buddhas appeared.

Bang!

The small universe power compressed in his palm transformed into a golden arc of light that shot high into the sky. It then seemed to lock onto a spot on the sea’s surface before swiftly plunging downward.

Boom!

The sea erupted, sending waves towering hundreds of meters high. Saga’s strike pierced deeply into the seabed, heading straight toward the source of the flute’s melody.

At last, the flute’s song ceased.

Rising slowly from the water was a sea general clad in dark golden scales, holding a long flute. Yet his scaled armor bore many cracks, and one shoulder guard was shattered completely, giving him a rather battered appearance.

Surely, this was the enemy who had played the flute to attack them, and the target of Saga’s counterattack.

“You truly are worthy of the title ‘man closest to a god.’ You are indeed very powerful!” the sea general holding the flute said with caution, glancing warily at Saga as he stood on the surface.

Saga ignored him, expressionless, turning his gaze coldly toward the sea to the left. “There is another. Come out as well.”

“What? There is another sea general?” Pisces Aphrodite exclaimed in surprise.

Now freed from the flute’s interference thanks to Saga’s strike, he had regained his normal clarity of mind. He had known there was an enemy in the sea attacking him, but he had not realized there was more than one.

Judging by this alone, Virgo Saga’s strength was far superior to his own.

“Hahaha, I thought I could keep it from you!” A wild laugh echoed from the left side of the sea, and another sea general clad in dark golden scales slowly emerged.

Seeing that familiar face and sensing that familiar cosmos energy, both Gold Saints were stunned.

“You… what are you doing here?” Pisces Aphrodite called out in shock.

Then, as if recalling something, he shook his head in disbelief. “No, you’re not him. You’re Garon!”

This sea general looked almost identical in appearance and aura to another person, yet with subtle differences. Aphrodite had seen both men before, allowing him to barely distinguish between them.

“Surprised to see me?” the sea general Garon asked teasingly.

“Weren’t you long dead, drowned in the water prison?” Aphrodite asked with suspicion.

Garon had originally been the Dark Saint of Gemini, the hidden second Gold Saint of Gemini. Long ago, because he tried to persuade his brother, Gemini’s official Gold Saint Saga, to rebel, Saga had condemned him with righteous severity, imprisoning him in a water cell to be drowned by the tides.

Afterwards, Garon vanished within the prison, and everyone believed him dead, lost to the sea.

“I am blessed by the Sea Emperor. A mere water prison could never hold me!” Garon replied disdainfully.

“So, you intend to betray the goddess Athena and become a pawn of the Sea Emperor?” Saga asked coldly.

Garon shook his finger smugly. “Not intend—I already have!”

“I am now the Sea General under His Majesty the Sea Emperor!”

“From now on, you should call me Sea Dragon Garon!”

If not for the Sea Emperor’s protection, he might have died long ago in that prison. In any case, he would never return to the Sanctuary.

“It seems you’re not here to reminisce, but to stop us from heading to North America,” Saga said with a slight frown, forming a hand seal with his orchid-like fingers.

“Don’t waste your effort!”

Sensing the rapidly gathering cosmos energy within Saga, Garon said meaningfully, “If you and I fight, neither of us will win anytime soon. No one can best the other.”

“So don’t waste your effort!”

Hearing this, Saga slowly dispersed the cosmos energy he had gathered and, with telepathy, sent a message to North America.

“I’m sorry. We’re all held back by the Sea Warriors and Specters!”

In North America, upon receiving Saga’s telepathic message, Camus felt a chill crawl through his heart.

With just the few of them, they were no match for those three who had descended as evil gods.

If they didn’t destroy those two divine gateways quickly, once they stabilized completely, all would be lost.

“Arudiba, do you have any ideas?” Camus anxiously asked, gazing at the black pillar of light atop the nearby pyramid.

“Use… Athena… Exclamation…” Arudiba, nearly burned to a crisp, replied with great effort through his telepathy.

“But that move is forbidden by the goddess. We can’t use it!” Camus immediately objected.

Arudiba weakly responded, “Before… leaving… the Pope… instructed me… to stop the evil gods from descending… at all costs…”

“That’s why… three Gold Saints… were sent… just in case…”

“For the earth… for the goddess… even if… we lose… the title of Saints… we… must destroy the divine… gateways…”

Hearing this, Camus resolutely made up his mind.

“Alright, I agree to use that move!”

“But there are only three of us. Even if we count the Libra and Orion Saints, that makes only five. That’s enough for only one formation, which can destroy only one divine gateway. What about the other one?” Camus asked again.

“You and… Dismas take people… to destroy the northeast… divine gateway… northwest… I… have another plan…” Arudiba replied with difficulty.

He could clearly feel his time running out, as if death’s footsteps were drawing near.

“You have a plan? What plan?” Camus asked in surprise.

“You’ll… find out soon enough…” Arudiba’s voice abruptly fell silent.

Camus assumed he was simply exhausted and didn’t press further. Instead, he turned his telepathy toward the south, trying to contact Dismas.

It was then that Camus realized he could no longer reach Dismas.

“Dismas—”

“Dismas—”

…

He called anxiously but received no response.

A foreboding dread crept into his heart.

“Rigel, Rigel, Rigel…”

He then shifted his focus, trying to use his telepathy to contact the other strong warrior in Dismas’s group: Orion.

Unfortunately, his message also vanished into silence, with no reply.

Frantic, Camus used his telepathy to carefully scour the battlefield to the south.

In the end, all he found were two Silver Saints’ bodies and one Gold Saint’s corpse.

Camus’s heart sank to the very depths.

Just then, on the southern battlefield, the “body” of Rigel suddenly stirred. The once silent cosmos within him awakened again.

He gently turned his neck and let out a pained groan.

“Ugh… ugh…”

Noticing this, Camus hurriedly asked with joy, “Rigel, you’re still alive?”