Chapter 4: Vengeance Unleashed

"Insolence! Insolence! Sam the Sage, you court death—how dare you trespass upon Mount Olympus!"

Staring at the nearly shattered divine body on the ground, Ares, god of war, leapt up and roared,

His voice boomed, rattling the stained-glass windows. Sparks danced off his armor. The threat was real, but so was the tremor of fear just beneath the bravado.

"Do you Atlantic gods intend to start a divine war with our Olympus?"

The other gods murmured, some reaching for weapons that pulsed with ancient power. It was the tension before a bar fight, the kind that could spill out into the streets and shake the world.

"Heh."

Sam sneered coldly, offering no reply.

His eyes flashed with the stubbornness of every underdog who’d ever been counted out. He twirled his staff once, the metal humming in anticipation. He had no words for men who had already written him off.

These foolish barbarian gods, even now, did not realize what fate awaited them.

From the moment they entered the Atlantic to hunt true monsters, this battle was already inevitable.

The fall of the Atlantic totem... could only be washed away with the blood of the gods of Olympus.

At this moment, Apollo, one of the twelve main gods, killing intent flickering in his eyes, said coldly: "For what happened today, if you, monkey, cannot give an explanation, then you will have to accompany this old king here."

The insult hung heavy, a gauntlet thrown in front of the entire pantheon. Even now, they underestimated him, mistaking tradition for weakness.

"Indeed, these few true monster corpses are not enough for us to share... If we add a monkey who once made havoc in Heaven, this hunt would be perfect."

"Excellent, excellent—this monkey seems to have come to present us with a gift."

"Just leave him here... My treasury still lacks the skull of a Stone Monkey..."

...

Gazing at the figure radiating killing intent, the gods' eyes glinted with icy indifference as they whispered among themselves. In just a few words, they had already sentenced Sam to death.

The casual cruelty in their tone was all too familiar—like the mean kids on the playground, only these bullies held power over the world itself. Yet behind the laughter, a few eyes darted toward the shattered windows, as if expecting another legend to come crashing through.

"You want Old Sam's head? I'm afraid you lack the ability."

Sam strode through the halls of Mount Olympus, the heavy Golden Staff in hand, and came before the divine body of the old blue-bearded monster. In his defiant gaze was a trace of undisguised grief.

For a moment, the bravado fell away. He knelt by the Leviathan King, fingers brushing the battered crown. The grief in his eyes was a silent promise, and the gods watching felt a shiver of doubt crawl up their spines. He remembered the king’s voice on stormy nights, the promise that the sea would always protect its own. Now, all that remained was silence.

Leviathan's body was battered beyond recognition, his once-mighty form broken, claws charred... yet his eyes remained wide open in fury, fallen in battle without retreat.

He shut the king’s eyes with a gentle hand, whispering something only the dead could hear. It was a small gesture, almost human in its pain.

"Old Leviathan King... I, Old Sam, will avenge you."

Memories flashed through his mind, and Sam's heart ached all the more. He lowered his gaze, then slowly lifted it, the fury in his chest almost impossible to contain.

These barbarian gods... by what right?

With their own whims, they recklessly decided the fate of all beings?

Are these still gods?

The question echoed in the silent chamber, the old stories clashing with the bloody reality before him.

Boom!

Leviathan's massive body was hoisted directly by Sam.

He lifted the king’s corpse as though carrying a fallen comrade off a battlefield, the weight of history and loss pressing down on his shoulders.

That mountain-like divine form, at this moment, seemed almost small.

Above the heavens, the gods watched Sam in silence, none stepping forward to stop him.

Their eyes brimmed with murderous intent, pity, ridicule... This ridiculous monkey, unable even to protect himself, still thought he could leave Mount Olympus?

Their contempt was palpable, but a few looked uncertain now, glancing at each other as if daring someone else to take the first step.

Did he think that after killing Hercules and breaking into Mount Olympus, all would be well?

Utterly laughable.

Step.

Step. Step.

Sam walked on, leaving footprints atop the unchanging summit of Mount Olympus.

Each step rang out like a drumbeat, defiant and unafraid. In that moment, even the mountain seemed to hold its breath.

Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed. Sam looked up to see Ares grinning, his giant axe infused with the power of war raised high. He growled, "Sam, that old king's head was chopped off by my war god axe! Today, I'll use it to send you to join him in the underworld!"

The challenge was primal—a duel as old as time. The gods leaned forward, hungry for blood, for spectacle, for another legend to fall. Sam’s grip tightened on his staff, thunder rumbling in answer. The gods braced—the next blow would shake the heavens.