The God Killer in the American Comics World

The first generation is a god, the second generation is a demigod, and what about the third generation?

Is there such a thing as a [quarter god]?

The demigod Achilles was deified after his death in history because the concentration of divine blood in his body was high enough, so he was also the top among the demigods.

But the guy who just rushed over was so poor in both speed and agility that it was almost like slow motion.

Such a descendant of God is so lame that it is unbearable to watch.

For the enemy, even if it is a soldier, Ang will never tolerate it.

Direct and fierce.

This blow undoubtedly gave the Greek strongmen on the opposite side a blow.

Ang's kick was somewhat intimidating. After a blazing white light, the violent lightning contained in that kick pierced the guy's body. The burly man first flew backwards and hit the wall of the museum, and then exploded like a watermelon.

In an instant, there was no trace of his body!

Ang's deterrence was full on the spot!

"Go! Everyone, go! He's only one person——" Old Mo was obviously talking nonsense.

This time, the two Amazon female warriors next to him were not happy!

Penthesilea raised her gun and shot the other unlucky guy who rushed over.

Diana seemed to be blocking and counterattacking in a serious manner, but she slapped the shield directly on the face of a poor guy, performing a human version of [Knife Slaps Cucumber] on the spot, with blood and flesh splattering, and bone fragments flying. It was not as artistic as in the movie. This is definitely a female killer!

"Stay here!" Ange slapped Helen's butt, and she jumped a little as if she was electrocuted, showing a very embarrassed expression.

She knew that she was a prize that only belonged to the winner. Although she knew that the winner was basically determined, she was still a little scared!

Ange had no time to consider her feelings.

In just a few breaths, the three generations of Greek gods who rushed over had been chopped down by two fierce girls, and the rest showed obvious fear.

Ang put the holy spear in the gun bag that he had prepared long ago and hung it diagonally, and drew out the [Achilles] short knife from his waist again.

Beside him, the killing of the two Amazon war goddesses was like a colorful oil painting called "War" - the dead warriors were the best cornerstone, the frightened enemies were the best embellishment, and blood was the real theme of this painting.

Ang looked around, and no Greek strongman dared to look at him with his sharp eyes.

All Ang saw was hesitation, fear, and uneasiness.

He sighed: "You disappoint me so much. I'm not targeting any of you, I just want to say - everyone present is garbage!"

Heroes can be old!

Heroes can be weak!

Heroes can even be careless and have many problems.

The only thing a hero must not show is - cowardice!

Once a hero is cowardly, he can no longer be called a [hero].

It is obvious that two thousand years of affluent aristocratic life has completely corrupted their souls and bodies.

When Ange held two swords and pretended to rush forward fiercely at only 50% of the speed, what did he see?

These great heroes of the past retreated like the water in the sea when Moses parted it.

Revealing Agamemnon, who was supposed to be the commander.

Agamemnon still had the courage to swing a sword at Ange. The sword infused with the power of the god of war was still sharp, but he was dull.

A knife seemed to appear on his neck very abruptly, and then penetrated his neck. The shining blade tore the flesh, and the scarlet liquid split the air like a red fan, and then turned into a blood mist all over the sky.

[Achilles], who had become a sword soul, watched himself cut off the cervical vertebrae of his former ally in the artifact sword.

This made Agamemnon's last look circle the museum exhibition hall, and his unwilling and indignant eyes revealed the last thought of his life that should have been glorious-Kratos was right, you are also worthy of being a hero! ?

The head of the Greek coalition has never been Menelaos, but Agamemnon.

Cut off the "brain", what remains are just "hands and feet" with their own ideas and their own ways.

Ang licked his slightly dry lips, smelling the taste of blood, he inexplicably felt a strange sweetness.

Is it the desire for victory?

Or is it a farewell to this fate?

Ang didn't know.

That mysterious excitement was like an energy drink poured into a long-dry throat, and the refreshing taste was enough to make all the 100,000 pores in his body relax.

Anyway, the two most devastated pearls of the Trojan War [Achilles] and [Hector] are already in his hands, and the rest are at most side dishes.

"Let me end it all." Ang waved his two swords and began to enjoy the battle to his heart's content.

Every time he slashed, he opened and closed. There was no amazing and exquisite swordsmanship. Even the most amateur swordsman could pick out a lot of problems and flaws from it.

The biggest feature of his sword is that it is fast and fierce!

It is not a trick, it is just too fast for the eyes to catch, and too heavy for the arms to block.

Ajax, Odysseus, Palamedes...

The names that once shone brightly, the names that once represented the pride of a country, disappeared in the short and cruel confrontations with Ange.

They are noble descendants of gods, and many of them even have the status of demigods.

This kind of scene where gods fly all over the sky, demigods are worse than dogs, and descendants of gods fall at will would only happen in the terrible wars of the mythological era.

Each of these thrilling wars is written in epics.

However, today! At this time! Here!

Feeling the breath of the brutal battle directly reaching people's hearts and rushing towards them, Menelaos was dumbfounded.

He wavered.

For the first time, he doubted whether he was wrong to join Ares.

In the museum hall, all the mortals had already run away, leaving only seven Greek royal guards, who were guarding him in vain.

A chill rose along the spine and reached the back of the head, making Menelaos lose the ability to speak.

He didn't know how many years he hadn't felt this way.

In his eyes, Kratos had turned into a world-destroying beast, coldly baring his snow-white teeth.

He wanted to raise his sword, but he couldn't.

The horror had almost made him lose his fighting instinct.

He saw the sarcasm in Kratos' eyes, but there was absolutely no mercy in his eyes.

The guards around him finally collapsed, yelling and fleeing from this bloody slaughterhouse.

He was left alone to face this peerless fierce god.

At this moment, he looked over Kratos' broad shoulders and saw the still beautiful Helen. There was no fear in her eyes, but a strange sense of relief.

Menelaos suddenly smiled bitterly. Facing the dazzling sword light in front of him, he dreamed of his youth and stabbed out a peak sword that could be called a dream of the Trojan War 2,500 years ago...

After a short and fierce confrontation between the sword light and the sword energy, the more fierce sword light won.

Old Mo's mouth moved for a long time, and the words squeezed out of his mouth were: "Kratos, promise me, don't abandon Helen. After all, she is just a prop of the gods' ambitions."

It is hard to imagine what kind of mentality Menelaos, whose body was cut in half, said this.

"Okay!"