Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!-Chapter 604 - 160-The Man with a Thirty-Million Bounty

"Hehehe, go on, keep swinging your sword.

Let's see how long you can keep it up.

After all, my shadow army is limitless.

If you want to play, I'm happy to play with you all day."

As he spoke, Ares casually stepped out from behind a nearby tree and snapped his fingers.

In an instant, four or five shadow clones of himself materialized around Alan.

These figures seemed almost real—

Only with intense focus could one spot the subtle differences between them and the true body.

Alan steadied himself, took a few deep breaths, and sneered coldly,

"You really think I'm an idiot?

If I can't touch these shadows, then they can't hurt me either.

Why would I waste my strength fighting them?"

Ares smiled as well, leaning lazily against the tree and twirling his fingers.

"Can't hurt you?

That's not guaranteed."

"What?!"

Alan's heart tightened instinctively.

Without hesitation, he rolled sideways.

Where he had just stood—

A long, narrow crack had appeared on the ground, like the mark left by a sword slash!

Alan immediately realized the truth:

Although the clones were illusions, the swords they wielded were not necessarily fake.

The blade he had struck earlier was a fake—

But the one that had attacked him just now was definitely real!

The pressure around him skyrocketed.

It was already hard enough distinguishing real from fake—

And now, in front of him, the Frost Path was spreading faster than ever.

The white-haired mage was pouring all her remaining strength into freezing Francis and Blanche completely.

The frost had already crept from their legs up to their stomachs.

At this rate, in another ten minutes or so, the two would be frozen solid into ice sculptures.

Fort frowned deeply and warned Alan,

"Vagabond Knight. Phantom Blade.

Put those keywords together, and only one name comes to mind."

"Who?"

Alan asked as he kept his eyes locked on the shifting shadows.

Fort swallowed hard and spoke gravely,

"Among bounty hunters, there's an internal bounty system.

It's used to regulate and contain individuals whose personal strength becomes too overwhelming and uncontrollable—posing a potential threat even to the hunters themselves."

"Generally, a person's strength is measured by the amount of bounty placed on their head."

"And Phantom Blade Ares—"

"Has a bounty of thirty million."

"Thirty million?!"

Alan's eyes widened briefly.

He immediately followed up,

"What about Alice? How much is she worth?"

Fort shook his head.

"Not sure.

But I've heard she's also in the multi-million range."

"So, Ares's strength is roughly on par with Alice's?"

Alan grinned.

Rather than fear, [Battle Spirit] blazed even hotter in his chest.

Bullying the weak was meaningless.

Only by clashing with true strong foes could he feel his blood boil—

And experience the explosive growth he sought!

Suddenly, Alan moved.

He slashed rapidly at the surrounding shadow clones, aiming at each of their swords.

But as soon as he destroyed one group, new illusions would spawn.

Just like Ares had said—

His shadow army was endless.

High above, in the treetops—

The real Ares lounged casually, watching the scene unfold with amusement.

He wasn't afraid to face Alan directly.

He simply preferred using his abilities to gauge Alan's true strength while conserving his own.

Veterans like Ares, with massive bounties on their heads, constantly lived under the threat of assassination and ambush.

Over time, they had learned not to reveal their true bodies casually.

Instead, they let illusions handle almost everything.

Still—

Ares wasn't just being cautious.

He was genuinely curious about Alan's capabilities.

——

"There you are!"

After slashing through the seventy-seventh shadow sword, Alan suddenly looked up—

Locking eyes directly with Ares in the treetop.

Ares's lips curled into a faint smile.

"Not bad.

You spotted my real body faster than I expected.

No wonder you defeated those third-rate bounty hunters earlier.

You truly live up to your reputation."

Alan tensed his legs and sprang upward with explosive force.

Mimicking the burly axeman's earlier style, he gripped his holy sword staff with both hands and swung it down with all his might.

"In my eyes—"

"You're no better than the trash I already crushed!"

CRACK!

The thick tree branch supporting Ares was cleaved cleanly in two.

But Ares himself had already vanished.

Without hesitation, Alan spun and thrust his sword behind him.

He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.

CLANG!

Two swords collided violently—

A deafening screech echoed across the clearing.

Ares had finally drawn his real sword. novelbuddy.cσ๓

It clashed fiercely with Alan's holy sword staff.

The two weapons locked in midair—

Like two roaring magical trains colliding head-on, neither willing to yield an inch.

Moments later—

An enormous shockwave erupted at the point of impact.

Both Alan and Ares were blasted backward.

Alan immediately summoned the Stone of Sage's power, manifesting a crystalline flower beneath his feet to catch himself safely.

Even so, a stinging pain coursed through his arms.

Glancing down—

Alan saw the blood vessels in his forearms had burst open during that brief but brutal clash.

Bright red blood streamed down his arms, dripping steadily to the ground.

Suppressing the pain, Alan dispelled the crystal flower and diverted his remaining vital energy toward healing his injuries.

After that exchange, Alan had a rough grasp of Ares's true strength.

Tier-Platinum!

The real deal.

No embellishment, no hidden weaknesses.

Unlike Duke Mogan, whose tier-platinum strength had felt somewhat diluted—

Ares was a pure predator, honed through countless life-and-death battles.

His mana was sharp, ferocious, and absolutely authentic.

What shocked Alan even more was Ares's apparent youth—

At most thirty years old!

Far younger than Duke Mogan, and far deadlier.

Meanwhile—

Ares also staggered to his feet, looking slightly disheveled.

His right arm hung limp and powerless at his side.

With a grimace, Ares tore off the armor piece covering his right arm.

A splash of blood splattered onto the ground.

Clearly—

Ares had suffered even worse injuries than Alan during that exchange.

And unlike Alan, he didn't have the Stone of Sage to aid his recovery.

His right arm was completely useless now—

A fact that brought a flicker of hope to Alan's heart.

"Interesting.

A magus who uses a sword?"

Ares raised his head and looked at Alan with a strange curiosity.

"That thing you're wielding—"

"It's not a sword, right? It's a sword-shaped staff."

"But there's something strange..."

"Your mana level feels like tier-bronze at best—

Yet your attack power rivals mine."

"I remember that sword-staffs don't enhance attack strength...

So how are you doing this?"