Godslayer In the Comic World Chapter 200

  Chapter 200 Everyone here is garbage (1 more)

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

  Is there such a thing as [a quarter of God]?

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

  But the guy who rushed over just now was so poor in speed and agility that it was hard to notice, it was like slow motion.

   Such a descendant of a **** is simply too stretched to see.

  Ange will never be indifferent to the enemy, even if it is a miscellaneous soldier.

   Directly and ruthlessly.

   This blow undoubtedly dealt a blow to the Greek powerhouses on the opposite side.

  Ange's kick was a little bit of an understatement. After a blazing light, the violent lightning hidden in that kick penetrated the guy's body. The burly man first flew upside down and slammed into the wall of the museum, and then exploded like a watermelon.

  In an instant, there is no bones left!

  Ange's deterrence power was full on the spot!

   "Go! Give it to me! There is only one of him—" Old Mo was obviously talking nonsense.

   This time, the two Amazon female warriors next to her are not happy!

  Pentesilea raised his gun, and with one shot, another unlucky ghost who rushed forward was stabbed in the heart.

Diana seemed to block and counterattack sternly, but she patted the Aegis directly on the face of a poor fellow, and performed the human version of "Slapping a Cucumber with a Knife" on the spot. The blood and flesh splattered, and the bone chips exploded. So literary and artistic, this is definitely a female killer!

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

   She knew she was a prize only for the winner. Although she knew that the winner was basically determined by default, she was still a little scared!

  Ange didn't have time to think about her feelings.

   In just a few breaths, the three generations of Greek gods who rushed forward had been cut in half by two fierce girls, and the rest obviously showed fearful expressions.

  Ange put the holy gun in the gun bag that he had prepared long ago and hung it obliquely, and drew out the [Achilles] dagger at his waist again.

Beside him, the slaughter of the two Amazon goddesses of war is like a brightly colored oil painting called "War" - dead warriors are the best cornerstone, and frightened enemies are the best embellishment, and blood is the painting the true theme of the

  Ange looked around, his sharp eyes froze, no strong Greek dared to look at him.

  Ange saw only hesitation, fear, and uneasiness.

  He sighed: "You guys let me down. I'm not targeting any of you, I just want to say-everyone here is rubbish!"

  Heroes can grow old!

  Heroes can be weak!

  Heroes can even be informal and have many problems.

  The only thing a hero can never show is—cowardice!

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

  Obviously, two thousand years of generous noble life has completely corrupted their souls and bodies.

  When An Ge held two knives and only pretended to be fierce at 50% of the speed, what did he see?

  The great heroes of those days were like Moses dividing the water in the sea, shouting and retreating.

   Reveal Agamemnon who was supposed to be the commander.

  Agamemnon had the courage to swing his sword at Ang. The sword infused with the power of the **** of war is still sharp, but he is the only one who is dull.

A knife appeared on his neck seemingly abruptly, and then penetrated through his neck. The shiny blade tore apart the flesh, and the scarlet liquid split the air like a crimson fan, and then turned into a cloud that filled the sky. blood mist.

  【Achilles】, who has been reduced to the soul of the sword, watched himself cut off the cervical spine of his former ally in the artifact sword.

   This made Agamemnon look around the museum exhibition hall for the last time, revealing the last thought in his supposedly brilliant life in his unwilling eyes—Kratos was right, you deserve to be heroes too! ?

  The mind of the Greek coalition was never Menelaus, but Agamemnon.

   Cut off the 'brain', what is left is just 'siblings' with their own ideas and their own way.

  Ange licked his dry lips and smelled the smell of blood. He felt a strange sweetness for no reason.

   Is it the desire to win?

   Or is it a farewell to this fate?

  Ange didn't know.

  That mysterious sense of excitement was like pouring an energy drink into his long-dry throat, and the refreshing taste was enough to make a hundred thousand pores all over his body stretch out.

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

   "Let me end all of this." Anger swung his two knives and began to enjoy the battle heartily.

  Every knife of his is open and closed, there is no amazing and exquisite knife technique, even the most amateur swordsman can pick out a lot of flaws and flaws at will.

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

   Not to mention the moves, but it's so fast that the eyes can't catch it, and it's so heavy that the arms can't parry it.

   Big and small Ajax, Odysseus, Palamedes...

   Names that used to shine so brightly, and names that once represented the pride of a country, disappeared in short and cruel confrontations with Anger.

  They are noble descendants of gods, many of them even possess the personality of demigods.

  This kind of scene where gods are flying all over the sky, demigods are not as good as dogs, and gods fall at will can only happen in the terrible battles in the age of mythology.

   Each of these soul-stirring wars is written in the epic.

   However, today! at this time! here!

  Feeling the aura of brutal fighting directed at people's hearts and blowing towards their faces, the men of Menelaus were dumbfounded.

   He wavered.

  For the first time, I wondered if it was a mistake for me to seek refuge in Ares.

  In the hall of the museum, all the mortals have already disappeared, leaving only seven Greek royal guards, guarding him in vain.

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

  He hasn't experienced this feeling for many years.

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

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

  Horror has almost made him lose his fighting instinct.

  He saw the sarcasm in Kratos' eyes, but there was absolutely no pity in it.

  The guards around him finally collapsed, yelling and fleeing the **** slaughterhouse.

   Only 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 longer fear in her eyes, but a strange relief.

  Menelaus suddenly smiled wryly. Facing the bright light of the sword in front of him, he stabbed a sword that can be called the pinnacle of the battle of Troy 2,500 years ago when he dreamed back to his youth...

   After a short and intense confrontation between Dao Guang and Jian Qi, the fiercer Dao Guang won.

  Old Mo's mouth squirmed for a long time, and the words that came out of his mouth were: "Kratos, promise me, don't abandon Helen. After all, she is just a tool for the ambition of the gods."

   It is hard to imagine what kind of mentality Menelaus, whose body was cut off at the waist, said these words.

"good!"

  (end of this chapter)

Chapter end