The President turned his gaze back toward Dasamuka.
His eyes were heavy, burdened by despair.
His fingers trembled ever so slightly.
It was subtle—almost imperceptible.
But after serving at his side for decades, Johan recognized the sign immediately.
Johan leaned in slightly.
"Sir," he said quietly, his voice as steady as a straight line cutting through a storm.
"We don't need to be afraid. I've already prepared our next move."
The President looked at him for a long moment, searching for certainty in the eyes of the assistant who always seemed unnervingly calm.
And there it was.
Resolve without the slightest trace of hesitation.
Like a freshly forged blade.
The President's breathing gradually slowed.
"...Very well."
"Do what you have to do, Johan."
Johan gave a small nod.
He descended from the side of the throne, his footsteps light and rhythmic, as though the arena overflowing with thunderous cheers and unbearable pressure meant nothing to him.
Libra was the first to notice his approach.
Her long violet hair swayed gently, and her star-like eyes—usually so composed in their impartial elegance—widened slightly as Johan presented his proposal.
An ancient forest.
Rocky mountain slopes.
And half-ruined temples scattered throughout the wilderness.
It was not a battlefield designed to be fair.
Nor was it one meant to favor humanity outright.
It was simply a place where one could disappear beneath the footsteps of a giant.
Libra studied him longer than usual.
"...An unusual strategy," she murmured, lifting her tiny golden scales.
To the west, the Ancient One slowly turned his head.
His enormous wings gradually folded, and his eagle-like eyes narrowed as he silently judged Johan's proposal from beginning to end.
The Mythology faction had already tasted the bitterness of two consecutive defeats.
A battlefield like this...
...what advantage could humanity possibly possess without technology?
No magic.
No steel armor.
Perhaps... their only weapon is their intellect.
The Ancient One fixed Johan with a penetrating stare.
Johan returned the gaze without wavering.
Steady.
Silent.
Utterly certain of his proposal.
Several minutes passed.
The silence hung between them like a blade suspended in midair.
At last, the Ancient One lowered his chin ever so slightly.
A small gesture.
Yet one that signified approval.
"On one condition."
"No technology whatsoever may be brought into the arena."
Libra turned toward Johan.
She had expected to see at least a flicker of doubt.
A trace of concern.
Perhaps even the slightest change in his breathing.
Instead...
Johan remained calm.
Almost serene.
As though the condition had not diminished humanity's chances...
But had instead opened the path to a plan known only to him.
From afar, the President visibly stiffened.
Their most logical weapons—
Bombs.
Missiles.
Explosives.
All vanished from consideration in an instant.
Yet Johan merely closed his eyes for a brief moment.
When he opened them again, the calm within them was almost unsettling.
A forest.
Ancient temples.
Ruins.
Mountain slopes.
That alone...
Was more than enough.
"I accept," Johan said.
His voice was clear.
Steady.
Without the slightest tremor.
The Ancient One narrowed his eyes again.
Sharper this time.
He tried to peer into the human's mind.
Yet he found nothing.
Nothing except a tranquility so profound that it unsettled even him.
What exactly are you planning, human?
The old Garuda tensed.
His wings folded closer against his body.
And even after the agreement had been reached, his gaze never left Johan.
Because for the very first time...
The Ancient One could not decipher the strategy of humanity's greatest mind.
---
The Colosseum of Heaven began to tremble.
At first, the vibration was gentle, like quiet footsteps crossing an old wooden floor.
Slowly, however, it deepened into a pulse that echoed through every chest.
Libra raised her left hand.
The golden scales she held began to glow, radiating a soft light that spread throughout the entire arena.
Unlike before...
She did not borrow the Ancient One's magic.
Instead, she chose to construct this battlefield through her own understanding.
She no longer fully trusted the old Garuda's magic.
Especially after the two suspicious matches that had come before.
A square holographic display materialized before her.
She studied the rocky slopes.
The temples.
Their carvings.
Their architecture.
The vegetation growing between weathered stones.
The shadows cast by towering trees.
She closed her eyes and absorbed every detail.
What is this mountain?
What is this temple?
What meaning lies behind these carvings?
She studied every detail like a cosmic painter seeking to recreate the beauty of Earth without flaw.
Her right hand drifted gracefully through the air, as though sweeping aside an ocean of stars.
The arena transformed.
The silver-white marble floor darkened.
Cracks spread across its surface.
The stone blackened...
Then shattered into soft, fertile earth.
The scent of damp humus filled the air.
The trembling intensified as dozens...
Then hundreds...
Of roots burst upward from beneath the ground.
They grew into colossal trees whose crowns reached toward the heavens of the arena.
Among the newborn forest, ancient stone temples slowly rose.
Some were modest.
Others towered so high they nearly touched the sky itself.
Silent statues watched from behind curtains of leaves, as though they had guarded those sacred grounds for centuries.
Intricate reliefs and carvings wrapped around every weathered wall, each one overflowing with history, artistry, and quiet devotion.
Even members of the Mythology faction fell silent.
To them, architecture was never mere decoration.
It represented the glory of civilizations.
The pride of races.
The grandeur of forgotten ages.
"This..."
A monk among the human spectators whispered.
He covered his mouth with both hands.
Before he realized it...
Tears had begun rolling down his cheeks.
"...This is more beautiful than any temple I've ever seen."
Whispers of admiration spread through the arena like a cool breeze.
From humans.
And mythological beings alike.
A centaur slowly bowed his head in silent respect.
A forest fairy closed her eyes, savoring the fragrance of fresh leaves.
A flower giant leaned forward, stretching out a hand as though wishing to touch the beauty before it.
A gentle light shimmered within Libra's eyes.
She did not smile.
She rarely ever did.
Yet a quiet serenity settled upon her face.
As though she knew she had created something balanced...
Beautiful...
And fair.
The arena fell silent once more as the enormous monitor suspended above the Colosseum of Heaven illuminated the sky.
Its brilliant blue light reflected across ancient stone, emerald leaves, and the eyes of every spectator.
Massive letters appeared.
Accompanied by a deep bass that shook the arena.
"THE TEN-HEADED GIANT — DASAMUKA."
The Mythology faction erupted like a raging storm.
Their cheers swept through the forest, shook the treetops, and even sent fine dust drifting from the highest temple spires.
Dasamuka answered with pride that echoed from all ten heads at once.
His two primary arms rose high into the air.
Limbs as enormous as ancient banyan trees split the wind apart.
All ten mouths opened in a unified roar, their ten voices merging into a sound like an earthquake given speech.
His smaller arms moved wildly.
Some waved arrogantly.
Some applauded themselves.
Others pointed toward the humans while laughing.
The massive monitor shifted once more.
The atmosphere changed.
The cheers from Mythology subsided.
Now it was humanity's turn to hold its breath, hoping for something—anything—that made sense.
A name appeared.
Not a human.
Not a soldier.
Not a knight.
Instead—
"PEREGRINE FALCON TRIO — THE FASTEST CREATURES IN THE WORLD."
Silence swept through the Mythology stands.
Giants.
Fairies.
Young dragons.
Winged goblins.
Every eye narrowed in confusion.
Shock.
Then realization dawned.
The three birds that had been gracefully circling above the arena all this time were not wandering wildlife.
Nor were they accidental visitors.
They were humanity's representatives.
And they had been there from the very beginning.
"The President... sent birds?"
"Can those tiny things even pierce stone skin like Dasamuka's?"
"They don't even have poison!"
"They're so small one step would crush them!"
Uneasy whispers spread through the human stands.
Anxiety.
Pessimism.
Some were nearly furious.
Then an elderly man stood.
Thin.
Wearing round spectacles.
A renowned professor of ecology.
He slowly raised one hand.
"Calm yourselves."
His voice was soft...
Yet unwavering.
"You're underestimating one of the most perfectly engineered creatures nature has ever created."
He gazed toward the three falcons soaring overhead in perfect spirals.
"The Peregrine Falcon..."
"...is far more than a bird of prey."
His words stopped as his eyes caught the trio's astonishingly synchronized flight.
"They are biological machines built for a single purpose."
"Deadly speed."
The crowd gradually quieted.
Several humans frowned.
"How fast?"
The professor smiled faintly.
"Perhaps..."
"...faster than a Formula One race car."
Several listeners instinctively swallowed.
Others whispered among themselves, eager to hear more.
The professor glanced toward Johan, who had already returned to his usual place beside the President's throne.
A faint look of understanding crossed his face.
At last...
He understood the direction of Johan's thinking.
Turning back toward the battlefield, he pointed toward one of the falcons flying low above one of Dasamuka's heads.
It almost looked as though the bird were greeting him.
Or perhaps mocking him.
"No matter how many heads he possesses..."
"No matter how many arms..."
"He cannot evade what he never has the chance to see."
The entire Human faction froze.
High above...
One of the falcons suddenly dove low.
Only a few meters above the treetops.
As though paying silent respect to the earth...
The forest...
And the temples Libra had created.
And for the first time since emerging from beneath the Colosseum...
One of Dasamuka's heads instinctively leaned backward.
It was only a small movement.
But it was unmistakably real.
---
Libra slowly lowered her right hand.
The gesture itself was simple.
Yet beneath the authority of the stars...
It sent a tremor throughout the entire arena.
"The match begins."
Her gentle voice echoed among the towering trees and ancient temples.
It was immediately swallowed by the deafening cheers of the Mythology faction.
They were convinced—
Utterly convinced—
That victory already belonged to them.
Dasamuka stood proudly.
So immense that even the towering trees seemed insignificant beside him.
His skin resembled solid stone streaked with glowing veins of lava, reflecting shafts of sunlight filtering through the forest canopy.
His ten heads moved slowly, as though arranging themselves for a debate understood only by giants.
One of the heads along Dasamuka's left rib cage suddenly let out a booming laugh.
"Hahaha! So humanity has finally run out of warriors! They've actually sent tiny birds to challenge the greatness of the King of Giants—"
The sentence never finished.
Not because of a devastating attack.
Not because of an explosion.
But because of a streak of white that flashed past so impossibly fast that not even its afterimage remained upon the retina.
Slash—!
Both of that head's eyeballs vanished in an instant.
The head blinked frantically, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
"W-What...? Why is everything... dark?"
The head directly beneath it suddenly spoke up after feeling something warm drip onto its forehead.
"The hell? Who's crying all over me?"
Then—
"AAAGH! DAMN IT! MY EYES! MY EYES ARE BURNING! I... I CAN'T SEE!"
The roar was more than deafening.
It crashed through the forest like a bolt of thunder, shaking the mist and sending leaves raining from the trees.
All nine remaining heads snapped toward it simultaneously.
"Why are you screaming?! What happened?!"
"An attack? From where?! I didn't see anything!"
"How could you fail to dodge it, idiot?!"
The blinded head flew into a frenzy, shaking Dasamuka's colossal body so violently that his smaller arms flailed wildly.
"How did none of you see the attack?! What are all your eyes for?!"
One of the heads growing from his abdomen immediately fired back.
"You're the idiot! You had your own eyes before they got ripped out! Why weren't you paying attention?!"
"My position can't see the left side, moron! You're the one covering the northern angle!"
"And now you're blaming me because you weren't paying attention?!"
The argument exploded through the arena like a chaotic marketplace trapped inside the body of a giant.
There was no coordination.
No unity.
Only chaos.
And right in the middle of that uproar—
Screee! Screee! Screee!
Three white streaks plunged from the sky at once.
Like three fragments of sunlight carved from the sun itself and hurled toward the earth.
Blood burst into the air.
Three tendons along three of Dasamuka's smaller arms were sliced apart by attacks so fast they were nearly invisible.
The severed arms no longer waved arrogantly.
Instead, they hung limply at his sides, pouring blood like ruptured pipes.
"ARGHH!! MY ARM!!"
"Not just yours, idiot! Look at mine too!!"
"I-I don't even know where the attack came from!!"
Dasamuka's central head desperately searched for the enemy.
Left.
Right.
Above.
Yet every time his eyes swept across the battlefield...
The birds were already gone.
The forest-temple arena was the perfect battlefield for them.
The shadows beneath towering trees concealed their flight paths.
The narrow spaces between ancient temples became corridors for impossible maneuvers.
The cool air rising from the valley masked the sound of their wings.
For a brief moment, the Human faction stood speechless.
Then...
Cheers slowly began to rise.
"Did you see that...?"
"They... they actually wounded the giant?"
"That speed... that's impossible!"
The ecology professor who had explained the falcons' abilities rose to his feet once again.
Wonder shone brightly in his eyes.
He pointed toward Dasamuka, who was now spinning around in utter confusion.
"A body that enormous..."
"...cannot perceive movements that small."
"It simply cannot process a threat occurring within a fraction of a second."
One human spectator whispered,
"So..."
"...they really do have a chance?"
The professor smiled faintly.
"A chance?"
"No, my boy."
"They've just demonstrated humanity's greatest strength."
"Choosing the right creature..."
"...for the right strategy."
The arena rumbled once more.
For the very first time...
Dasamuka genuinely had no idea what had just struck him.
And the three Peregrine Falcons—
Wrapped in streaks of brilliant white as they dove from the heavens—
Looked like divine arrows descending to challenge the King of Giants himself.
Then—
"Enough!"
A single head barked.
It was the one positioned between Dasamuka's shoulders—the closest thing to where a normal human head would have been.
Its voice cracked across the battlefield like thunder beneath a cloudless sky.
The chaos ceased instantly.
"Focus on your enemy."