Saint Seiya, but Athena who disobeys?

The dissipating divine energy triggered a final shockwave, ruffling the young god's hair. He watched as the radiant warrior, whose power had instantly captivated even him, burst forth. After a brief silence, the young god smiled.

"That's how it is. That's why I've always wanted to experience defeat, but no one can defeat me. Anyway, you've won this challenge of chasing your prey, son of man who has come from afar. What's your name?"

"Seiya, Saint Seiya." Seiya, having defeated the incarnation of wind, slung his backpack over his shoulder again. "I am the warrior who protects Athena, the goddess of wisdom and war, and also the Saint who protects the earth and humanity."

Chapter Four: A Fateful Encounter

"I am the victor, victory is always in my hands, this is my essence." Facing Seiya, the white-robed youth who had just finished the battle also introduced himself.

Around the same age as Seiya, his handsome features had a somewhat androgynous quality. Even among entertainers, Seiya had never seen such a beautiful young man. And most importantly, Seiya clearly sensed the imposing and sacred aura emanating from him.

“I have never been defeated. This competition is a rare pastime. If you are not a warrior of the Western gods, I will surely grant you my protection.” As he spoke, the white-robed youth revealed an ancient smile as enigmatic as smoke. “How about it? Are you interested in competing with me? Just play with me for a while.”

"It's not really a competition." Seiya stared into the boy's eyes, smiling slightly. "It's just that this is my first time here. If you also have the same interest in relaxing, we can consider it a trip together. But first thing..."

The young god in white robes also noticed the other's sharp, piercing gaze. He showed no fear, even anticipating the response with interest. He was the victor, unafraid of any challenge—martial arts, strategy, horsemanship—anything was fair game. Oh, speaking of which, this place seems quite close to Greece. I remember there's a full-body competition in that country; could it be a full-track race like this?

"...You need to change that white robe that's practically a rag first. It's turned brownish-red. Are you trying to play the role of some kind of sage from an oasis?" Seiya said, pouting.

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In front of the Church of the Holy Trinity in Sakaja, Erica slowly removed the rapier from the neck of the Asian boy in front of her. "So you're saying you're not an East Asian magician who can summon disobedient gods at all? You don't even know the most basic magic?"

"From the very beginning, what gods, magic, and the Lion King's Heart? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about! I was just asked by my grandfather to deliver this antique stone tablet to an old woman, and the storm just now and the boy who fought against it, that was the most outrageous thing!" Kusanagi Godou shouted.

Erica's face was grim. She didn't want to admit it, but she had to admit she had the wrong person. After witnessing the calamity summoned by the storm avatar of the gods, she desperately used her senses of divine artifacts to track down this suspicious-looking Japanese man who was gathering information everywhere. It turned out he was truly a complete magic idiot, not even a layman.

Why would a disobedient god descend upon this isolated island in the Mediterranean, and why would there be another unknown deity at war with it?

Erica couldn't help but think of the white knight who had just defeated the storm's incarnation; perhaps she had been heading in the wrong direction from the very beginning. At that moment, Kusanagi Godou looked at the girl who had inexplicably appeared before him and wanted to ask her something, as he was still quite interested in the boy who he suspected was one of his own. But the next second, he saw the stone tablet in his hand fall into the girl's hand.

“It’s really dangerous for an amateur like you to fall into such a trap. Since you’re planning to give it to the witch Lucrezia who’s temporarily residing on this island, I’ll pass it on to her.” Before Kusanagi Godou could speak, Erica, the woman in the red dress, made her decision arrogantly and capriciously.

Just then, Erica's phone rang in her pocket. She opened it and saw it was her assistant and maid, Ariana. "Miss, we've found the identity of the owner of the Gulfstream G550 you mentioned," the maid's voice trembled slightly.

"So fast? You must be exhausted." Erica ran in the direction the boy had disappeared. No matter who he was, if he was an evil magician who tried to summon a god who did not obey her, she would not let him go; if he was a heroic knight who bravely protected mankind, she would try to form an alliance with him.

“No, because she made no attempt to conceal her identity.” The maid on the other end of the phone was also slightly out of breath. “She used her real name, openly and honestly—Guinevere.”

Erica stood there, stunned. "Isn't that the name of the God Ancestor and Demon Queen, who resides at the pinnacle of heaven and earth?"

The Sun Boat in Sardinia is one of the island's premier hotels. It's where Bond flirted with KGB agent Amasova in *The Spy Who Loved Me*. It also houses the island's largest casino, a paradise for tourists who rarely have the opportunity to experience the allure of gambling. It's said that Heidi Klum and Denzel Washington both vacationed here.

But right now, inside this top-tier casino, a scene straight out of a movie is unfolding.

"Bet all on spades."

His words, spoken as lightly as a breeze, drew the attention of all the gamblers around him, including all the surveillance cameras in the casino, who stared intently at the spirited young gambler.

The distinguished guest was remarkably young, probably around fourteen or fifteen years old, with shoulder-length jet-black hair and ivory-colored skin. Most importantly, he was extremely handsome. At that moment, he was embracing the ladies beside him, moving mountains of chips onto the roulette table.

The dealer, dressed in a suit and tie, stood in the middle, drenched in sweat. He dared not open the betting line. He felt an invisible magic at work on him, and even on the entire casino, like a black hole sucking away everyone's wealth. But under the watchful eyes of so many, he opened the line anyway, and as expected, the white ball on the roulette wheel ultimately landed on the spade icon.

At this moment, the whole audience cheered. Whether they were gamblers or the girls accompanying the boy, they didn't hold back their kisses and kissed his face wildly.

"How can you guess so accurately every time! You're like the invincible Veleslana!" A young Afghan girl, about his age, looked at the boy of her own ethnicity with admiration.

"Because I am the victor, the eagle of kingship, abundance, fertility, and wealth are my very essence. All riches will flow to my feet like water." The young god revealed an ancient-style smile.

He was dressed in a well-tailored suit, lining it with gold—a symbol of wealth. After winning all his bets in several rounds, his fortune had ballooned to the point where even the richest man would be bankrupt. Now, holding a wine glass given to him by a young woman, he strolled leisurely over to another boy.

"How's the ice wine this casino offers you?" Seiya stared at the screen in front of him, but as if he had eyes in the back of his head, he asked his friend next to him.

"If it weren't for the added drugs that overpower the sweetness and enhance its tannins, it would be barely palatable," the young god smiled. He looked at the chips placed in front of his friend. There was only one golden ram chip symbolizing 10,000, while the rest were piled up with low- to mid-level chips engraved with camels and anteaters, but the total number was far less than his own.

While enjoying the game, the young god also observed his friend's situation. He was enjoying the game just like him, from Pai Gow to Sic Bo, from the common Mahjong to Baccarat, from the popular Rolling Dragon in Southeast Guizhou to the six-player hotline for betting with lottery sticks, but in the end, he stopped here.

He wasn't pleased that his wealth far exceeded that of his friend. Well, there was a little, but only a tiny bit. But soon he saw the other person wear a smile similar to his own, a victorious smile as elusive as smoke.

Then I saw him sweep all the chips into the trash can, pick up the single gold Aries chip (symbolizing the highest denomination) between his index finger and thumb, and then insert it into the coin-operated slot in front of him—

—At this moment, the big screen finally began to rotate.

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PS1: Let's go back to the beginning and clarify three points for you guys.

First, there are Asian characters in Saint Seiya, or rather, the number of Asian characters is not small. Dohko, Mu, and Shion (who doesn't seem to be Chinese) are all Chinese. Dohko is from Lushan, while Shion and Mu are from Tibet. As for Deidara, I'm not sure; any knowledgeable brothers can elaborate. Shiryu, on the other hand, is Japanese.

Secondly, the idea of ​​a "limited cap" for god-slayers originated from some old fanfiction but has become widely circulated. The development of their powers also suggests there's no limit. Using a fanfiction's setting to restrict other works is like using the imperial sword of the previous dynasty to execute officials of the current one—isn't that a bit too unreasonable?

Third, the conspiracy theory of god-slaying. God-slaying itself is a miracle. No matter how powerful a knight or how outstanding a sorcerer is, they cannot win against a god. The ability of an ordinary person to bravely stand up in the face of such a great challenge is what makes a god-slayer.

In the setting, it's impossible to become a Godslayer through scheming (limited to the Godslayer world) (although I feel it's still possible), so it's absurd that Kusanagi Godou is Susanoo's pawn. Although I don't particularly like Kusanagi Godou, if Susanoo, a reclusive hermit without madness, were to actually return to the surface and show any signs of disobedience, Kusanagi would beat him to a pulp.

Chapter Five: Those Who Hold Victory and Those Who Perform Miracles

It was a slot machine, but with a whopping twenty-four spinning wheels. Normally, winning the jackpot with three identical symbols is almost a miracle, but each of its twenty-four wheels offered four hundred and eighty different symbols, and its speed reached a staggering 100 kilometers per hour. Perhaps this machine was merely decorative, but then the large screen suddenly started spinning.

A perfect three-sided draw would increase wealth tenfold, but as Seiya's finger pressed down repeatedly—one seven, two sevens, four sevens, eight sevens, until the final twenty-four sevens—after a brief silence, a cheer even louder than the one before the young god erupted from behind. The deafening cheers, both inside and outside, even penetrated several layers of walls; the entire building could hear the gamblers cheering for the legendary bettor who had achieved a miracle.

The extravagant name "Super Supreme Unbeatable Grand Prize" appeared before them.

"How did you do that?" the young god asked.

He was certain that Seiya did not possess similar powers to himself, nor did he have any mystical rituals or magical artifacts to increase wealth. Yet, he still managed to achieve a miracle, surpassing Seiya's wealth at the last moment.

"Super simple. Memorize each pattern, then use your super dynamic vision combined with super brain reaction speed, and simply press a button." Seiya snapped his fingers and picked up the drink handed to him. After taking a small sip, he pursed his lips. "I'm not really good at tasting things; they all seem pretty much the same."

Seiya slightly raised the corners of his mouth, but not because he had made a lot of money; it was simply because the cheers behind him were making him feel good.

The young god smiled gently. His slender eyes became even more slender, and his lips curved into a smile.

His inner fighting spirit had been completely ignited by Seiya. Although he stood elegantly, his eyes were sharp enough to assess Seiya's worth as a human. His demeanor was less that of a peerless gambling god and more that of some being who transcended humanity.

The combined amount owed by the two individuals had reached a level that would make even the wealthy envious. At this moment, the manager in the monitoring room suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. Even after he and his team analyzed dozens of monitor screens, they couldn't uncover their cheating methods. It was as if Hades was manipulating wealth.

At that very moment, as if sensing something, the boy being monitored stared back at himself through the monitor.

"You mean they were just lucky, that we ran into a magician?" The manager frowned, looking at his subordinate who was making the analysis. Then he picked up the walkie-talkie. "Bring them here... If they refuse? Then forcibly bring them here. Since they're cheating, breaking their arms and legs is no problem."

Two gamblers cheating on their money overseas might be overlooked elsewhere. But this is Italy, this is the Mafia, this is the Lucchese family's business.

The security guards, now given the order to act, all wore menacing smiles.

A well-dressed security guard approached Seiya, but just as he raised his hand to grab him, the guard grabbed his wrist instead. In the brief moment the guard hesitated, Seiya gently pulled his arm forward. It wasn't a strong pull, but the guard lost his balance and fell to the ground.

But a sharper scream came from the side. Two security guards who were also close to the young god were now lying on the ground, their arms and legs bent at an irregular 90-degree angle, groaning in pain. Only then did Seiya raise an eyebrow and glance at his friend beside him; this white-robed boy's appearance concealed a terrifying ferocity.

"Our lord once said that those who reach out to others should be punished tenfold. To crush their backs and rip out their bones—is this not the most just punishment?" The young god clapped his hands. Then, after a brief silence, the atmosphere in the entire casino instantly changed.

It contains a very strong sense of arrogance, and is a pair of very cold eyes.

What kind of person has that look in their eyes?

A stern yet majestic gaze. This is the warrior—Seiya—once again confirmed.

"A god who can utter such words must be known for his tyranny and ferocity," Seiya remarked, becoming even more certain that the boy before him was indeed a warrior from an unknown foreign god. He lowered his head and gripped the necklace around his neck; he couldn't afford to be outdone by a warrior from a foreign god.

"O Goddess of Wisdom, of Love and Mercy, we beseech you to deliver us from the hands of our enemies, to inspire us, to help us overcome them, to show us the path to victory, and to grant us triumph in your holy name!"

As he recited the prayer, he seemed to have a premonition and dodged the attack from the petite girl in white gauze behind him. He ruthlessly knocked the dagger out of her hand, and then, just as she knelt down, he handed the wine glass he had been holding back to her.

"Compared to fighting, I feel this is more suitable for you."

—Naples, Italy.

Beneath the withered olive tree, the deity wearing a cat-ear knitted hat seemed to sense something and raised her head. Was it an illusion? But just a moment ago, she seemed to hear ancient prayers reaching her ears.

Could it be that in this materialistic world, there are still warriors who uphold their beliefs?

— Sardinia, Cagliari.

Erica was on her phone, communicating with her capable maid. She had discovered the man's whereabouts—inside Sardinia's largest casino—and was determined to catch him this time. Just as she confidently headed towards her destination, she suddenly saw a burst of flame erupt from the U-shaped building ahead.

She was taken aback, because that building seemed to be her destination.

Erica felt as if she were being toyed with by the goddess of fate, and every time she thought she was about to grasp her goal, an unexpected mistake would occur.

At that moment, through the shattered glass, a boy, now dressed in a white robe again, landed on the ground, gripping iron chains. Amidst the chaotic crowd, only a green Aston Martin DBS was parked at the entrance, and Seiya looked up and waved at him.

The young god didn't even ask where the sports car came from, since it was undoubtedly borrowed from inside the casino. As Seiya stepped on the gas, the car sped off under the watchful eyes of countless people. Only out of the corner of his eye did he catch a glimpse of a wild figure in a red dress, high heels, running at full speed.

She seemed to want to say something to him—was she a fangirl who adored him? But Seiya only smiled politely; it would be a sin to make a girl fall for him. Soon, he shot off like a green arrow at speeds exceeding 100 miles per hour.

Chapter Six: Sons of Man, Challenge the Gods!

A distinguished guest suddenly arrived at the top floor of the Sunship Casino.

The manager, who was still in a state of panic because of the trouble he had just encountered, was about to reprimand the newcomer, but when he met the other person's deep purple eyes, he couldn't say a word.

Soon, the hotel's director, who was also the executive officer of the Lucchese family, and his officers stood in a row, bowing to the distinguished guest. "Miss Brantley, your unexpected presence is an honor to our family!" But Erica waved her hand to interrupt him, signaling them not to interfere with her viewing the surveillance footage. On the screen were the figures of two teenagers.

From the moment the boy sat down before the dealer to Seiya pressing the slot machine button, from the boy looking up and making eye contact through the monitor to the slow-motion capture of his first move, the entire sequence was flawless. But what was most chilling was that all the security guards he had knocked down, and even the gamblers watching, seemed to be influenced by an invisible aura, collectively praising the boy's fame like fanatical believers, even calling him Bahram and admiring him in Post's distinctive style.

"They're playing a game, incorporating the gambling process, the cheers of defeating their enemies, and the reactions of those around them into a playground that belongs only to the two of them," the manager said slowly. "It sounds absurd, doesn't it?"

“Not absurd. For such venerable beings who defy their own mythology and display an attitude of disobedience on earth, they are all extremely self-centered beings.” Erica spoke coldly, but a lioness-like excitement gradually appeared in her eyes.

As the young lady left, the manager, who was still standing there, finally took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"Could the surname Blantri belong to that guy from Milan?" the manager whispered.

His family is one of the five Great Mafia families, existing for centuries and now transformed into a more international organization encompassing gambling and ocean trading. However, as a member of the family, he was aware that there existed an underworld, a place where legendary things existed.

"Just know that, don't get too close, or you'll be burned to death." The director glanced lightly at the younger member of the family.

“I understand.” The manager rubbed his aching temples. “It’s just that the recent natural disasters, and this legendary name, make me feel like a storm is brewing.”

As the green Aston Martin DBS drove away, we quickly arrived in Cagliari. This is the main road of the port city, lined with rich history and architecture, including the cathedral and St. Pancras. We sped along the main road.

"What do you mean?" Seiya asked. He was naturally referring to the battle settlement after they left the casino.

“One hundred and twenty-eight,” the white-robed youth finally spoke.

He wasn't referring to the number of security personnel he'd taken down—even though their physical abilities were forcibly suppressed to the level of ordinary people, they were still far beyond what an average human could handle. He was referring to the people who, after being intimidated, submitted and obeyed, and even went so far as to sing praises to this boy who had come from afar.

"Is this really something a human could do?" Seiya raised an eyebrow.

"Hehe, don't find it unbelievable. I am the embodiment of battle and victory. As long as I keep winning, I will manifest the joy of victory in the form of wealth. Whether it is women and children, wealth, or the enemy itself, the gains that a warrior obtains through battle are only to be expected."

"The weak should submit to the strong, and the defeated should be at the mercy of the victors. Even if their wives and daughters are taken, they should kneel down and offer them up respectfully." Seiya slightly raised his raised eyebrows, and the smile in his eyes gradually faded. With just a few words, he had already deeply felt the wild and barbaric side of the god that the other party followed.

It's as if humanity has reverted to its most primal side, unleashing its suppressed ferocity and rampaging its domineering nature. Those who wield power are the greatest violence in the world, capable of doing anything and crushing anyone.

"I'm certain that we will inevitably clash in the future," Seiya suddenly said quietly.

"Hahahaha, are you only now certain, my friend? Our meeting was the very propel of fate, and our battle is inevitable! Or rather, you should be the one to be careful, for I will stop at nothing to snatch you from the hands of those Western gods! I will bestow upon you the protection of light, I will shatter your faith in Athena, and make you my warrior!"

The boy laughed, not the faint smile from before, but a very ferocious grin. It was the first time Seiya had ever seen such a smile.

They could consider each other best friends from the very first day they met, yet at the same time, they were absolutely certain that they would become mortal enemies in the future. This kind of thing should be sad, but for some reason, Seiya felt a strange emotion lingering in his heart.

"Because you're smiling, Saint Seiya," the young god pointed out.

Seiya paused, rubbed his temples, and then suddenly looked up at the rearview mirror. His expression had completely changed; he himself rarely saw himself like this. His smile was flamboyant and unrestrained, and his pupils seemed to sparkle with stars.

"Am I actually enjoying this too?" Seiya suddenly realized.

Possessing divine qualities that guide travelers and protect people, the young god easily sees into a side of Seiya's heart that even he himself is unaware of.

"Now we have one win and one draw. There's still one more match between us." Perhaps it was the prospect of victory that brought back the long-lost mysterious smile to the young god's lips.

The car was now traveling at 220 miles per hour, and the Sardinian police station was inundated with calls from tourists who had witnessed the incident. But the young man in the white robe sat inside, watching the scenery outside the window rapidly disappear behind him.

Since the first two matches weren't intentionally planned, the third match should also be more spontaneous.

They hadn't even clarified what the stakes would be after winning. Thinking this, Seiya saw the bridge ahead, which had been disrupted by the recent natural disaster. He decided to bet that his car could fly across it.

But just as he was about to speak, it was less a coincidence and more a twist of fate—

—The world before my eyes was cracked like glass with countless fissures, and in the space overflowing with divine energy, a sound from another distant world reverberated across this land.

The crack was made by a wild boar as large as a mountain, and the earth-shaking roar was its voice.

Faintly, he seemed to hear a girl's alluring, soft voice carried on the breeze—

—Son of man, challenge the gods!