For once, the chief gods had a new member in their box.

A goddess with peach hair and wearing a white dress stepped into the VIP box, with waving peacock feathers flowing behind her, intimidating those who stared at the eyes on the feathers. She took a seat on a new throne right beside Zeus, who gave her a flirtatious look. Unlike Zeus, she looked way younger than him despite being older. The goddess didn't bat an eye on the king and gazed at the arena below.

Horus cleared his throat nervously. "Hey... Hera. How's it going?"

The queen of Olympus and goddess of marriage, Hera, responded without looking at the falcon-headed god. "Decent." Zeus coughed to get her attention, trying his best to create a warm and inviting smile.

"So, babe. You excited for our daughter's battle?"

"Your daughter." She coldly corrected. "Out of many deities of Greece, there are barely any that are made by the two of us. It's always you hanging around those mortal women and siring their children."

The king of Olympus coughed again and turned away from her, with Odin responding with another cough, which sounded almost like a laugh. But (thankfully) no one caught on.

In another room, a golden-coloured throne sat a beautiful goddess with a sun-shaped crown over her head, donning a traditional reddish-white Japanese kimono and two golden bracelets on both of her hands. Leaning her head against her fist, a red-haired goddess with an outfit suitable for dancing beside her provided a mochi for her.

"This seems interesting." Amaterasu, the supreme goddess of the Shinto pantheon and a member of the Gods' Fighters, said. "Uzume-san. What do you think?"

The red-haired goddess, Ame-no-Uzume, faced the window. "Hmm... not too sure. Athena-chan's intellect might give her the high ground, but not sure about the human though."

A whistle interrupted the two.

Beside them, two Egyptian-themed seats were occupied by the new arrivals. One was a goddess with green eyes, braid locks, and a white toga—something Egyptians don't wear, even for their gods. She has a tray of a traditional dessert of Om Ali, which the god beside her snatched some.

The god had an aardvark's head, donning a blackish robe and silver trousers. He had a amulet placed around his neck, pulsing in glowing blood red. Munching on an Om Ali, Set, the Egyptian god of chaos and the desert, and another member of the Gods' Fighters held a pair of binoculars for a better view on the battlefield.

"That guy seemed strong." He said as he examined Napoleon. "Oh, I can't wait for my turn to fight!"

"Darling." The goddess Nephthys said, "Relax; you'll get your chance."

"Yeah, I know." He said, while caressing his wife's hand. "It's just that fight between that Norse god and that human... what was their names again? Agrella and Trym? Dunno. The point is, they were strong, and there are definitely more stronger humans out there for me to fight!"

Nephthys shrugged. "Just, calm down and let all of us watch in peace. Alright?"

"Fine."

The French soldiers on the battlefield saluted their emperor, smiling with pride as they formed several semicircles behind him. One of them stepped towards Napoleon, a man wearing the same bicorne and bluish military attire. He's the most loyal general to the emperor: Marshal Louis-Nicolas Davout, more commonly to others as the Iron Marshall.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Anansi spoke. "Are you ready for the second bout?!"

Both gods and mankind roared in courage.

"I know I am! Now, to the soldiers below: thank you for your hype! You may proceed to leave the arena, please."

But no one budged.

The spider god cleared his throat. "Guys? This is a one-on-one fight. Can everyone but Napoleon Bonaparte please leave the arena?"

The soldiers remained in position.

"We're ready, Le Petit Caporal." The Iron Marshall spoke to his emperor, who faced the god announcer and spoke.

"Sorry." Napoleon apologized. "My loyal men will join me in this battle." With a snap of his fingers, all the soldiers behind him began to change. Their attires, their faces, their bodies—all of that began to transform; everything about them became the same as Napoleon's features: the same height, the same attire, and the same confident look.

"What's this?!" Anansi boomed. "Is this Napoleon's main weapon in this battle? His army?"

In the gods' VIP box, Huitzilopochtli slammed his fist and pointed at the human. "Hey!" He snarled so loudly that Anansi could hear him. "That's cheating!"

In another box, Lugh nodded in agreement. "It's one-on one! That's clearly not one human fighter down there!"

Soon, more gods began to argue in agreement, the wrath of millions of deities overwhelming the humans, until Anansi had to calm them all down. "Ahem! Gods and goddesses, please calm down. We got this. We got this. We'll discuss this: court style!"

The clouds made way to block the sun, leaving only three spotlights: focusing on Napoleon and his men, the gods, and Anansi himself. The archangels watched with looks of nervousness and worry. Michael knew that this was Napoleon's power, but if it was proven to be illegal for Genesis...

"Gods!" The spider god announced. "Your statements, please?"

Lugh spoke first. "That's clearly a violation of Genesis's rules!" He slammed Gae Assail so hard that it caused a shockwave that trembled the trays and thrones, with Dionysus and Hathor stoically shifting themselves away from him. "It's always a one-on-one battle to the death! If the archangel/human bonding thing was not enough, this freak has a whole-darned army with him!"

The other gods roared in approval at his statement.

Anansi hushed. "Alright, silence! Any objections?"

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Before the archangels could do that, Napoleon raised his hand.

"I do." As he raised his hand, the other soldiers behind him mimicked him. The emperor sat down on the soil, with the hundreds of clones doing the same. "The souls of my men have merged into one with mine, thanks to the ability of my bonded archangel."

"Yep!" One 'Napoleon' agreed.

"We're a part of our Caporal now!" Another added.

"Is that so?" The spider god scratched his chin and armpit at the same time. "Any more objections or statements?"

The gods were still unsatisfied by this, wanting to throw in more statements to get the French emperor disqualified. However, there was one more rule that disproves this. There can be more than one entity that can merge with the fighter's soul in the battlefield. This is clearly an example of that case.

With no choice, the gods fell silent.

"So... after the statements collected. We shall decide that this act from Napoleon Bonaparte." He paused for some dramatic effects, clearly working as everyone anticipated the results. "Is not against the rules of Genesis!"

The clouds parted for the sun to shine on the battlefield as the debate was settled.

The archangels sighed in unison, Metatron lying back on his beanbag and Raphael falling to the floor in relief. They're safe; this wasn't a violation.

"Now that that's out of the way. Let us commence the second round! Are both the fighters ready?!"

Napoleon and Athena nodded.

"Right! Let the second round of Genesis... BEGIN!"

The emperor and his men/clones faced the Greek goddess. "Four to the right!" Napoleon boomed. "FORWARD!"

Four Napoleon clones dashed towards Athena; their lances ready to attack. "Take this!" The leading 'Napoleon' roared as he prepared to strike. A blink later, the four clones were sliced into pieces, their bodies splattering behind the goddess of wisdom.

The crowds' eyes looked like they were about to burst from their sockets any time now; even the stoic Michael briefly stumbled backwards at the sight of Athena's weapon. The gods, on the other hand, cheered at the sight of the mangled clones. Nike whooped and cheered from the commentator's box, while Joseph covered his mouth in shock.

"Opa!" Dionysus cheered as he drank his wine. "With that weapon, pretty sure none of them could scratch big sis!"

Napoleon, on the other hand, still remained stern, now sitting down on the floor, with his clones doing the same. Athena remained in her position, still wielding her Aegis shield and not keeping her eyes off the French emperor.

Kaelith shivered. "W-what was that?" No one could blame the angel child's fear at the power of Athena. "She just cut those dudes into pieces without even using anything!"

"That's her weapon." Michael elaborated. "Instead of using her iconic spear, she's using a new formidable technique in battles."

Uriel narrowed his eyes at the glass. "I only heard it in rare stories. Never saw it in action until today."

"Wait, look at that!" Elysariel gasped, pointing to Athena's fingers. The goddess fiddled her fingers, creating new and extremely thin strands of thread. "Is that the one?"

"Yes," Gabriel confirmed. "Deciding to trade her spear for that, Athena is definitely more of a goddess you don't want to mess with."

Raphael nodded.

"And the name for that terrifying weapon is..."

Arachne's Web.

Napoleon scratched his chin, eyeing the goddess for her weapon. Sighing, he roared. "Two on the left! Fire!"

Two clones stood up, raising their muskets and aiming at Athena. They fired, and Athena raised her hand. The bullets were sliced in two from the threads, the tiny pieces bouncing off her armour harmlessly.

The emperor narrowed his eyes, preparing multiple plans on overcoming his opponent's weapon. According to his observation, she can create that thread with her fingers and, apparently, out of thin air with no materials required.

The primary target would be to sever her fingers and prevent her from using that move. But how would he do it?

I say, we charge. Selaphiel's spirit suggested. It's hundreds of us against her alone; even with that threatening technique, we might overwhelm her.

Several of the spirits of Napoleon's men agreed with him.

Wait. Davout countered. There's no way she can only slice things apart with those; how are we supposed to know if she has other usages of those threads?

Many soldiers agreed with his point.

Minutes passed. And the two haven't budged from their places. Whispers erupted from both mankind and the gods, questioning about what's taking them so long to deliver the first attack.

"What's taking them so long?" A man whispered.

"Come on! Slice each other up already!" A god demanded.

Yet, the two stood there, their eyes never looking away from their opponent. The crowd is getting more impatient, demanding them to make a move.

"Snap!" Anansi interrupted, spooking some spectators. "Several minutes had passed, and neither side has delivered an attack after that shot!"

"Just fight already!" Lugh roared.

However, Joseph and Nike understood their fighters' decision; they knew them for ages; of course they'll sit like this and develop dozens of strategies to overwhelm their opponent. That's typical of them.

Napoleon finally stood up; many of his clones unsheathed their sabres, waiting for their emperor's orders. Now, he has developed over one hundred and twenty plans to defeat Athena, but depending on Athena's counterreaction, some of those strategies might prove to be futile. But it's worth a shot.

"Twenty at the center! Bring me cannons!"

Right beside him, twenty clones suddenly transformed again, their flesh turning to steel as their bodies transformed from humans into twenty cannons. The same number of clones positioned themselves behind the cannons, with a torch lit in their arms. The tactician raised his hand in the air and ordered.

"FIRE!"

The clones lit the back of the cannons; the ear-shattering sound of the cannon fire echoed the arena, with many spectators covering their ears to protect it from the noise. Twenty cannonballs blasted towards Athena's direction, where the goddess effortlessly skewered some apart and evading some. Those who missed exploded on the soil, creating a blast of smokescreen that consumed the goddess.

This is where Napoleon began his attack.

"Soldiers! Charge!"

The clones raised their sabres, and rushed to Athena's position. The smokescreen has definitely covered her range of vision, making them all harder to detect. This is it; this is where they attack. Several others had their muskets ready to fire in case the lancers fell. In the smoke, the clones swung their sabres wildly, hoping to slash through the goddess and deal as much damage to her as possible.

However, she's nowhere to be seen.

"No sign of her, Caporal!" One clone was announced.

The smoke began to dissipate, and they finally managed to pinpoint Athena's location. "Caporal..." One clone pointed at the goddess; she was floating above the clones, staring at the goddess in shock.

"How did she do that?" Metatron whimpered.

"A web." Elysariel said as the light reflected on the new threads that Athena is clinging onto, shaped like a spider's web. "She did that?"

The Greek goddess of wisdom wasted no time in leaping down from the web, hurling it towards the unfortunate clones within her vicinity. "Arachne's Web." She spoke, her helmet giving her a more ambiguous-toned voice, "Devour."

The webs cut through the clones' skin like butter, effortlessly chopping them into hundreds of tiny pieces, their sabres clattering on the ground.

"Won't you look at that?!" Anansi gasped. "The Greek goddess of strategy and warfare just skewered those duplicates like a knife through a cake!"

Mankind trembled at the goddess's ability, while the gods cheered for their champion, throwing roses onto the stadium like they did for the first round.

"That's my sis!" Dionysus whooped.

"Yeah, you rock!" Nike cheered.

The goddess landed on her feet, unfazed by the lifeless clones on the ground beside her. Despite the devastating move and the losses on dozens of his clones, Napoleon was surprisingly calm. Yes, that move dismisses several of his tactics he had in plan; however, he can still come up with more to counter that.

"You anticipated that, didn't you?" The man questioned.

She nodded. "We're both strategists. You come up with a plan; I counter it with mine."

The clones muttered gibberish to their emperor, impressed by their opponent's

She could give us a challenge, Caporal. One soldier spoke.

They don't call her the Goddess of Strategy for nothing. Selaphiel joked, resting his hand on Napoleon's shoulder. But she stands no chance against us. He smirked as many of his men nodded at their caporal.

Show the gods the might of our greatest strategist. Davout saluted.

The soldiers chanted in approval.

Napoleon Bonaparte cracked his knuckles and pointed at Athena. "Is that true? Well then, let this round be our greatest battle. Let mankind and the gods know who the best tactician between us is."

Athena lifted her shield, preparing to attack. "Fine by me."

The second round will be a blast.