Nathan''s eyes darkened. He studied Hector for a long moment before speaking, his tone carrying the weight of an unspoken warning. "Hector, he has gone too deep. You understand what that means, don''t you?"

    There was no hesitation in Hector''s response. "I know," he said, gripping the hilt of his sword with firm resolve. "Don''t worry, Heiron. I will do what must be done."

    Hector strode forward, his steps measured and firm, until he stood before Paris. His younger brother glared at him with unbridled hatred, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

    For a long moment, Hector simply observed him, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh that carried the weight of disappointment and sorrow, he spoke.

    "You have fallen very low, Paris." His voice was steady, but the pity in his eyes was unmistakable.

    "SHUT UP!!" Paris roared, his voice cracking under the pressure of his own fury. "What do you know about me?!"

    Hector''s gaze remained unwavering, piercing through his brother''s rage like a blade through soft flesh. "I know that you don''t care about Troy," he said, his tone cold and sharp. "You only care about Helen—not as a person, not as a woman with her own thoughts, her own will—but as a prize, something you stole and refuse to let go of."

    Paris''s body tensed, his nails digging into his palms.

    "I also know that you resent Heiron," Hector continued, each word dripping with ice. "That you''ve always envied him. That deep down, you wanted him dead. And today, you finally acted on that hatred. You tried to kill him."

    "He is a stranger!" Paris spat, his voice shaking.

    "A stranger?" Hector scoffed, his lips curling in disdain. "A stranger who has saved Troy countless times. A stranger who has saved my life on multiple occasions. A stranger who is the very reason Troy still stands." His voice grew sharper, cutting through the thick tension between them. "And yet, what have *you* done for Troy, Paris? What have *you* given, besides dragging a war to our doorstep? You, who have offered nothing but selfishness and ruin?"

    Paris''s body trembled, his breath ragged with fury. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!" His screams were near hysterical, raw with desperation and blind rage.

    Then, something shifted.

    A suffocating darkness erupted from him, swallowing his entire body. It wasn''t mere shadow—it was something deeper, something wrong, something reeking of malice and corruption. His form twisted within the writhing blackness, his features obscured save for his eyes—two burning crimson orbs, gleaming with murderous intent.

    "I WILL KILL YOU ALL...." His voice was no longer entirely human. It was guttural, beastlike, laced with a feral hunger for destruction.

    With a snarl, he lunged at Hector, his speed inhuman, his movements like a predator finally unleashed.

    Hector did not hesitate.

    His grip tightened around his sword, and in an instant, his weapon erupted with radiant light. The golden glow bathed his armor, illuminating his resolve. He met Paris head-on, his blade swinging forward in a brilliant arc, prepared to strike down the brother who had already crossed the point of no return.

    Nathan observed the scene from afar, his expression impassive. A single glance told him everything he needed to know. Hector had already made up his mind. He had chosen Troy over family. He had chosen duty over blood.

    And Hector had chosen to do it himself.

    It wasn''t just about honor—it was about perception. It would not do for Nathan, the so-called savior of Troy, to be the one to strike down a Trojan prince. That responsibility had to fall on Hector''s shoulders. He understood this well.

    But truthfully, Nathan had no desire to waste his time on someone like Paris anyway.

    Let Hector do what needed to be done.

    And let Paris reap the consequences of his own downfall.

    As the chaos of battle raged around them, Khillea suddenly approached, her presence commanding yet filled with an undeniable warmth. Without hesitation, she grasped Nathan''s arm and pulled him into a kiss, her lips pressing against his with a mixture of urgency and affection.

    "I will order the Myrmidons to retreat," she whispered against his lips, her breath warm and fleeting.

    Then, slowly, Agamemnon lifted his head.

    His abyssal gaze, now devoid of any semblance of humanity, locked onto Nathan with an unnatural intensity—like a predator honing in on its prey. His soulless black eyes shimmered with malevolence, an endless void of seething hatred.

    The moment his eyes met Nathan''s, every soldier standing between them instinctively took a step back, fear gripping their hearts. A primal, unspoken understanding coursed through them—this was no longer their king. This was something else. Something monstrous.

    But Nathan stood firm. Unmoved. Unfazed.

    A twisted grin curled Agamemnon''s lips, his expression a grotesque mockery of amusement.

    "Giihihiih!" A chilling, guttural chuckle erupted from his throat, warped and distorted like the voice of a man who had long since lost his sanity. His mouth twisted as he spoke, his words slow and dripping with venom.

    "I... will... kill you... with my own hands. I will rip your limbs apart, tear your flesh while you still breathe... You will suffer for what you''ve done to me..."

    Nathan remained still, his golden eyes unblinking as he stared down the maddened king. He could feel the sheer, overwhelming hatred radiating from Agamemnon—a hatred so deep it had utterly consumed him.

    Even in this monstrous state, Agamemnon remembered everything.

    Nathan had humiliated him. He had taken Astynome and Briseis from his grasp, robbed him of his spoils of war. He had set fire to his ships, severing his path of retreat, stripping him of his control. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

    For Agamemnon, a man who prided himself as the King of all Greeks, such disgrace was unforgivable.

    He would not could not accept it.

    With a deafening, guttural roar, Agamemnon launched forward.

    "GRAHH!!"

    In an instant, his massive form disappeared from sight, vanishing in a blur of terrifying speed.

    Then

    BADOOOM!!

    The earth split apart beneath him as his colossal blade came crashing down. The sheer force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, shattering stone and soil alike. Tremors surged outward, knocking surrounding soldiers off their feet as dust and debris exploded into the air.

    Agamemnon''s wild gaze searched through the destruction, his bloodthirsty grin widening.

    But Nathan was nowhere to be seen.

    BADAAM!!

    Before Agamemnon could react, a devastating force slammed into his back.

    Nathan''s boot connected with his massive frame like a thunderbolt, sending the monstrous king hurtling forward. His enormous body crashed into the ground, rolling violently across the shattered battlefield, carving trenches in the earth with every impact.

    A moment later, he rose to his feet, his monstrous form towering once more. His eyes burned with unrelenting fury as he snapped his head toward Nathan.

    There, standing amidst the swirling dust, was Nathan—calm, composed, and untouched. His expression was devoid of amusement now, his golden eyes cold as winter steel.

    A slow smirk played at the edges of his lips as he raised his sword.

    "Let''s end this, Agamemnon."