"Didn't expect anyone in this world to recognize us. Andromeda King, you're not bad. But it's a pity… today you and all your disciples must die." Though bound by Albiore's chains, the newcomer's arrogant tone did not lessen in the slightest.
After his initial shock, Albiore recovered his composure, but his voice now carried far more anger. "So you still dare show yourselves in this world. It's true that compared with Poseidon's Mariners and Odin's God Warriors, your strength is much greater. But don't forget—in the end, it was you who lost. You mad dogs under Ares—the Berserkers."
"May I ask which corps of the Berserkers you belong to?" The Berserkers, warriors under the War God Ares. If you asked the Saints which divine warriors they hated and least wanted to face, the Berserkers would undoubtedly top the list.
Even above Hades's Specters.
The reason was simple: every Berserker was a lunatic—a true madman. A bunch of battle‑crazed freaks who would commit any atrocity imaginable for the sake of fighting.
The Berserkers were known for pushing slaughter and destruction to their extremes, killing for the sake of killing. Not only did the Saints who protected the earth despise them—even Specters and Mariners had no love for them.
When they went into a frenzy, their fighting style became utterly extreme, trading wound for wound, life for wound. Though the Saints' ultimate enemies were the Specters, beyond their battles with Hades's army, their heaviest losses had always come from fighting Berserkers.
Of course, if the matchup changed to Specters vs. Berserkers, then the losers would only ever be Ares's Berserkers.
Without the Pandora's Box to seal their resurrection, Specters would just keep coming back. No matter how fierce the Berserkers were, or how willing they were to trade injuries, it was useless if the other side simply revived.
The original reason Gold Saints were allowed to use weapons was precisely because of battles with the Berserkers.
True, Ares's own track record was not exactly glorious—captured and roughed up by the Titans, then beaten senseless by his own sister Athena, with no legendary "slaughtering bears by the dozen" feats to show for it. But his men more than made up for it: loyal to a fault, strong, and all completely insane and unafraid of death.
Still, the reappearance of Ares's Berserkers in the human world was puzzling.
If the Sea Emperor only awakened once in several centuries or even millennia, Ares had shown up even less often across the Holy Wars.
Though every time he did, it was a bloodbath.
"Heh, just a mere Silver Saint, and yet you know quite a bit. I don't mind telling you—I am Kris, Explosive Fist of the 'Fire' Corps, one of Lord Ares' four great armies."
Ares's Berserkers were divided into four corps: Flame, Fire, Terror, and Calamity. Flame and Calamity were the strongest, followed by Fire and Terror.
High‑ranking officers in each corps all wore purple armor like the man before him—the Berserker Cloth, said to rival Gold Cloths in quality.
Looks like this might really be where I fall, Albiore thought bitterly.
Every high‑ranking Berserker commander had a title. He was confident he was not weaker than this one… but who knew how many Berserkers had come to Andromeda Island today? His disciples likely wouldn't last even a single exchange.
His Saint Cross chains had already sensed several Cosmos hiding in the shadows, watching them like tigers.
Even so, a Silver Saint of the Andromeda King constellation wasn't so easily pushed around. Let's see just how strong these Berserkers really are.
"Tell me—how many of you infiltrated Andromeda Island? What is your purpose here?"
At his question, Kris burst into wild laughter. "Infiltrate? We walked in openly. You worthless Saints simply failed to notice. Our goal is obvious: to wipe out you self‑important Saints. As for anything else, there's no need for you to know. The dead don't need information."
As Albiore's face grew darker, Kris paused, then added, "To deal with weaklings like you, this lord Kris alone is more than enough. If not for the commander insisting we prepare for every contingency, I'd never have bothered bringing so many of my brothers."
"Damn… so there really are more of them hiding." Albiore's heart sank. His odds of survival were slim.
He said nothing yet, but his disciples couldn't hold back. The enemy had insulted their teacher, after all. "You're just our teacher's prisoner, yet you dare talk big!"
"A bunch of ignorant trash. Do you really think these little chains can hold Lord Kris?" A sinister Cosmo rose from Kris's body, and his muscles began to swell. In just a few breaths, he had grown several times his size.
Though Albiore's chains still bound him tightly, they looked like they could snap at any moment.
"This is bad. His strength is enormous. Quickly—cast your chains and lock him down!" Albiore shouted to his disciples, who had been shocked into stillness by Kris's brutal aura.
"Y‑yes!" Jolted by their teacher's roar, the disciples hastily flung out their own chains.
Before Kris could break Albiore's chains, he was engulfed by the others' bindings, wrapped in layer after layer until a giant "cocoon" of chains formed around him.
But before Albiore and the others could breathe a sigh of relief, several strangers appeared at his side—men in bright red armor, led by one whose purple armor matched Kris's, all exuding the same violent pressure.
"Hahaha, to think the mighty 'Fire' Corps general, Explosive Fist Kris, would be captured by such pathetic Saints. You've really disgraced your Corps."
Each of the four great Berserker Corps had a commander who went by the name of their own corps. Kris's direct superior was the leader of the Fire Corps.
"Shut up. Matters of the Fire Corps are none of your Calamity Corps butcher's business!" came Kris's chilling voice from within the chain cocoon, making Albiore's blood run cold.
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