Raising his spear to meet the attack, the King of Mycenae was worthy of his past renown.
The power derived from divine blood resonated with the surrounding bloodlines, and mighty strength coursed through the spear's tip.
Two forces, unmatched in the mortal realm, clashed in an instant, forcing Achilles to halt briefly.
"Not bad, although you borrowed external power, you have the qualifications to exchange a few moves with me."
"Unfortunately, today I have come not to spar, but to make a name for myself."
Spears intertwined, retreating in mid-air.
Achilles landed on the ground, yet his words baffled Agamemnon.
The newcomer's strength was unexpectedly potent, but positioned at the heart of the army, Agamemnon believed he had the power to fight, even though the enemy stood alone. Once the army encircled him, the opponent would have no escape.
But now, seeing his demeanor, was it possible that he hadn't used his full strength yet?
Impossible, even if the war god was in the mortal realm, his strength wouldn't have been much greater...
With a explosive shout, Achilles again advanced with his spear, as the monarch of Mycenae moved forward to meet him, with his generals closely following.
Spears intertwined, but this time, Agamemnon was greatly alarmed.
For, at the last moment, the tip of Achilles's spear slightly shifted, aiming for his waist and abdomen.
Was the opponent courting death?
I aim for his heart, yet he doesn't aim for my vital point. I wear the god of craftsmanship's armor, while he has mere leather clothing; this was a joke.
However, in a duel between demigods, there was no room for hesitation, and within a moment, both landed hits on their respective opponents.
In an instant, immense force hammered through the armor onto Agamemnon's body, rendering his organs powerless, as if displaced.
Yet at that moment, the King of Mycenae couldn't be bothered with his injuries, as he merely gazed in shock at the enemy before him.
As if colliding with metal, not moving an inch forward, his weapon was of no use.
And before him, seeing Agamemnon's face full of disbelief, Achilles burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha... useless, but Agamemnon, I acknowledge your strength."
"Were it not for meeting me, there are few in this world who could defeat you. But alas, I am the war god—Achilles!"
Stepping forward, though admitting the opponent's strength, Achilles had no intentions of sparing his opponent's life.
Victory means life, defeat means death; this was the law of the battlefield. Though relying on his undying body might seem dubious, was it not also a form of ability?
"You, are not enough—bring Ares!"
Leaving these final words, gripping his spear firmly, Achilles stared directly at his first true enemy since his debut.
I will remember you, but it will be after your death... yet just as he prepared to deliver the fatal blow, the self-proclaimed war god's expression faltered slightly, swirling his spear as if to guard against something unseen.
A metallic clang resounded, followed swiftly by the sound of the air being pierced.
Achilles ultimately failed to block the incoming attack, as a hole appeared in the sleeve of his left arm.
His expression darkened; although uninjured, Achilles still felt provoked.
This was his first battle since his debut; how could he return without achievements?
"…What is going on here?"
Far away, atop an unnamed low peak, the blonde deity also questioned.
Hera instructed him to ensure the safety of the alliance's heroes, and so he did. But stealth attacks are never good, thus he only aimed for the opponent's left arm.
He had already prepared; should his single strike lead to Achilles's capture, he would find a way to set him free afterward.
This period in captivity would serve as punishment for his arrogant self-proclamation as the "war god"... however, what the blonde deity never expected was that his golden arrow and silver bow failed here.
Achilles couldn't evade his stealthy arrow, yet he too couldn't affect his unbreakable body.