Chapter 6: Fleeing Pursuit

A goddess cannot die.

Feng Zhe always believed this, especially in moments of crisis like this.

"Triple Mach Punch!"

Countless fists flew with incredible speed, like a shower of falling stars.

Of course, if Feng Zhe wanted to show off, he could also call this punch the Pegasus Meteor Fist.

Though these fists could shatter meteors, when they landed on Deathmask, they were little more than a tickle.

"You truly possess the strength of a Silver Saint," Deathmask sneered, his face twisted with contempt. "But if this is all you have, you won't be able to protect the goddess in your arms."

Feng Zhe looked truly surprised and asked, "You actually know she is the goddess, yet you still dare to hunt her down? Aren't you afraid of divine retribution?"

"Tch!" Deathmask spat disdainfully. "Do you really think protecting the goddess is a blessing for humanity?"

"In the eyes of the gods, Holy Wars are nothing more than a game."

Feng Zhe found himself reevaluating this Cancerian. Everyone said the Cancer Saint was weak, and he truly sided with the villain Saga, infamous as the 'Seafood Duo' along with Pisces Aphrodite.

In the Hades arc, these two Gold Saints were easily defeated by Aries Mu in a single blow—a true disgrace.

But now, his words were the opposite of what one would expect.

Deathmask glanced into the distance, where Capricorn and Sagittarius were locked in combat, and muttered, "Seems this meaningless battle must end soon."

Then he looked at Feng Zhe with malice. "Since fate has cast us as enemies, you have no choice but to die."

Take this!

Accumulated Corpse Qi!

Deathmask raised his hand, and rings of yellow light burst from his fingertips.

Feng Zhe was instantly immobilized. He felt a powerful force drawing him in, a pull so strong it seemed even light would be swallowed—like a black hole.

He clutched the goddess tightly, unable to move, watching helplessly as they were about to be sucked in.

Suddenly, a gentle radiance ignited from deep within Feng Zhe.

At once, warmth spread through his body, as if he stood beneath the sun’s rays.

It was this very light that kept him from being consumed by the Accumulated Corpse Qi.

With the help of this radiance, Feng Zhe suddenly perceived the secrets of the Altar Cloth’s techniques.

Enlightenment!

True enlightenment!

"So that’s how it is!"

As if everything became clear in an instant, Feng Zhe glanced down at the blazing flame reflected in the Sacred Cloth’s round mirror.

His gaze grew resolute as he looked straight at Deathmask.

Sacrifice!

Stripping Away!

The flame within the mirror, combined with the divine light—a light that only gods could summon—merged into one.

For the first time, a symbol of an altar appeared behind Feng Zhe.

It was the star emblem of the Altar Constellation.

With a loud cry, the flame surged skyward, striking Deathmask directly.

At first, Deathmask didn’t pay it any mind, but then he sensed something was wrong.

His Gold Cloth began to tremble.

No matter what he did, the Cancer Cloth loosened.

The left shoulder fell first, then the right, followed by the left leg, the right leg...

With Deathmask’s desperate screams, the entire Cancer Gold Cloth was stripped away.

"No!!"

Never before had Deathmask faced something so bizarre.

Now the Cancer Cloth floated in midair, assembling itself into the form of a giant crab—the shape it took when dormant. No matter how Deathmask called to it, the Cloth did not respond.

"Light Speed Fist!"

A punch as swift as light struck Deathmask in the chest, sending him flying.

Blood sprayed from Deathmask’s lips, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"I was defeated by a Silver Saint?!"

He looked up at the Sacred Cloth still drifting in the air, unwilling to accept the truth.

Feng Zhe, on the other side, could hardly believe it himself.

"So this is the power of a god?"

Feng Zhe knew well that, by his own strength, he could never have performed the Sacrifice technique, let alone the Light Speed Fist that followed.

This was power the goddess had briefly bestowed upon him—an augmentation from a deity.

It elevated him, a Silver Saint who had only just crossed the threshold, up to the Gold level, and even granted him the ability to strip away a Gold Cloth.

Yet Feng Zhe felt little of the divinity’s majesty—only a profound unease.

He glanced at the still-sleeping infant goddess in his arms, knowing that compared to gods, humans were truly insignificant.

Just then, a light fell from afar, radiating with malignant power.

Struck by that beam, the Cancer Cloth shattered into pieces.

Then, reassembled, it returned to Deathmask, now coated in a sinister energy.

"Saga?"

No wonder he was the strongest Gold Saint of his era; even from the Pope’s Chamber, he could alter the course of battle.

Feng Zhe, however, felt little admiration. Cradling the infant goddess, he turned to leave.

The moment Deathmask donned his Cloth, the pursuit began anew.

Feng Zhe considered using the Sacrifice technique again, but it had an inherent flaw—it was ineffective against the Pope.

Now, with the Cancer Cloth fortified by the Pope’s power, it too was immune for a time.

One pursued, one fled; before they knew it, dawn was breaking.

Feng Zhe realized his time here was almost up.

"Light Speed Fist!"

He exchanged another blow with Deathmask, but was sent flying.

"It’s not just my time that is ending—the goddess’s power is fading as well."

After all, the goddess was only an infant, and the strength she could grant was waning.

In this moment of crisis, an arrow shot through the air.

It struck Deathmask in the shoulder, opening a wound that bled profusely.

At the crucial moment, Aiolos appeared.

His eyes determined, Aiolos leapt to Feng Zhe’s side.

Seeing the wounds on Aiolos, Feng Zhe asked, "What about the Capricorn Saint?"

"He won’t be coming for a while."

At that, Feng Zhe understood—Capricorn Shura must have been gravely wounded.

Turning to Deathmask, who clutched his bleeding wound, both Feng Zhe and Aiolos fixed their eyes on him.

Realizing he was at a disadvantage, Deathmask spat, "You’ll pay for this. The Pope will never let you go."

Then he vanished.

Feng Zhe glanced at Aiolos and said, "Cross that street and you’ll be in the city. Take the goddess and go, quickly."

"Aren’t you coming with me?"

Feng Zhe shook his head. "I must return to my own time."

Aiolos only half-understood, but took the goddess and said, "Take care of yourself."

Feng Zhe nodded. Aiolos looked at him one last time. "If only we had an Altar Saint in this era."

Feng Zhe smiled gently, and under the sunlight, vanished from sight.