It was common knowledge that when facing a true master, having more people did not necessarily translate into greater combat effectiveness.
Many believed that multiple people attacking one was inherently simple. In reality, that idea was often nothing more than an illusion created by onlookers. Just as one-versus-many required specific tactics, many-versus-one also demanded structure-even relay-style combat was a form of tactical coordination.
Even among people with no formal combat training, or among street thugs, multi-on-one situations usually involved role division. Someone restrained the arms. Someone restricted movement. Others followed up.
The core of multi-on-one combat was specialization-using division of labor to stack advantages and achieve a clear objective.
Likewise, the essence of one-on-many combat was denying the opponent that specialization. Preventing roles from forming. Preventing coordination. Even turning around and running could be part of that tactic.
Under normal circumstances, that was the simplest summary.
But this "normal" did not apply to Jaden.
Nor did it apply to the gods.
The gods truly had not practiced group combat for a very long time. Ever since all beings they considered enemies were eliminated, and the Gods' Paradise was established, they had existed in a state of absolute dominance.
They had no enemies.
When conflict occurred, one-on-one was enough. Or everyone fighting separately.
However, a lack of practice did not mean ignorance.
A god's combat power was deeply tied to their Divine Weapon. Whether they had practiced recently was largely irrelevant-because the Divine Weapons themselves dictated what role their wielder should take in a multi-on-one situation.
As long as a god understood their Divine Weapon, the rest was only a matter of familiarity.
So when the first sword-wielding deity raised his weapon and charged at Jaden, the others immediately drew their Divine Weapons and found their places.
Naturally.
Instinctively.
They were all gods who understood their Divine Weapons to the deepest level.
They knew exactly when and how those weapons would exert their maximum effect.
More importantly, these Divine Weapons had been forged during the wars against their ancient enemies. Finding a position based on weapon roles meant recalling the cooperation they once used in those wars.
Millennia had passed.
For humans, any skill left unused for thousands of years would have long since decayed.
But for gods?
A millennium was nothing more than a single cycle of their existence.
They did not need to relearn.
They only needed to remember.
No orders were given. No roles were assigned.
Yet when they surged forward together, the pressure was overwhelming.
And still-
Jaden was not normal either.
Normally, in one-on-many combat, the elegant scenes depicted in movies and television were pure fantasy. A lone warrior weaving flawlessly through a crowd was unrealistic.
Unless the opponents were complete fools with no tactical sense.
Or unless the individual was stronger by several orders of magnitude.
And even then, it would not look graceful.
In reality, the most effective tactic in one-on-many was ugly.
You turned around.
You ran.
You stretched the enemy formation during pursuit, isolated small groups, and eliminated them one by one.
That was optimal.
Jaden had no intention of doing that.
Disrupt specialization?
Pointless.
Let them coordinate.
Let them combine their power.
He only needed one thing.
-Even if their power multiplied, his only requirement was to be several times greater than the total.
If being several orders of magnitude stronger allowed someone to move elegantly through a crowd...
Then all he had to do was be that much stronger.
So-
Three sword-wielding gods charged him from the left, right, and front.
Jaden raised his hands toward his head.
His upper garment tore apart as something surged beneath it.
In that instant, his back became the silhouette of a roaring demon.
Facing gods wielding Divine Weapons, Jaden chose no armor.
He picked up no weapon.
He simply smiled.
Bare-handed.
Bang!
The gods charging from the left and right were struck by his fists mid-charge.
The one attacking from the front had his head seized and twisted a full three hundred and sixty degrees.
At the same moment-
Four long spears shot out from the gaps between them, aimed directly at Jaden's waist.
Jaden's eyes flashed red.
He had already seen it.
He twisted sideways, leaning his body vertically against the corpse in front of him. The two gods he had punched away were flung into two of the spear-wielding deities, disrupting their attacks. His rotation narrowly avoided the other two spears.
He pushed the corpse forward, closed the distance, pulled back slightly-
And seized two gods from the tightening formation, hurling them into the air.
Swoosh-
Two arrows streaked through the space, piercing straight through their throats.
There was coordination among the gods.
But unfortunately-
It meant nothing against Jaden.
Shakyamuni, leaning against the wall behind the formation, raised an eyebrow.
He, too, was a god who could see the future.
Though the range was short, it was still sight.
And watching Jaden fight, he became certain of one thing.
Jaden could also see the future.
And-
"The future this guy sees is clearly longer than mine."
"I see. I intended to help him, but now that feels unnecessary."
"There's no reason to involve myself in someone else's battle."
Shakyamuni was the first to understand.
The others realized it soon after.
Because-
The entire group pressed forward. Their cooperation grew smoother, more refined.
And yet-
Not a single attack landed.
Jaden avoided every strike as though he already knew the result.
He anticipated every strange effect of every Divine Weapon.
Gods fell one after another.
And Jaden-
Had not suffered even the smallest wound.
Seeing this, Odin-who had not joined the encirclement-snorted coldly.
He raised his single hand.
A uniquely shaped long spear appeared within it.
Gungnir.
The Eternal Spear.
Odin stared at Jaden, who moved calmly through the battlefield, embodying the heroes of ancient ballads and epics.
The grim expression on his face, already darkened by his son's death, sank further.
Then-
"The farce ends here."
Half his face swallowed by shadow, Odin locked onto Jaden and hurled the spear.
This was his Divine Weapon.
Its ability was simple.
It never missed.
This was an attack that could not be dodged.
Even foresight changed nothing.
"You wear no defenses," Odin said coldly. "I don't know what gives you such confidence, but you are far too arrogant."
A golden streak tore through the battlefield like a meteor falling from the heavens.
It struck Jaden square in the chest.
And then-
Clang!
The sound of metal colliding with metal echoed.
Sparks scattered, carrying the sharp scent of heat and impact.
Jaden remained standing.
Unharmed.
At the center of the battlefield.
And Odin's spear-
-Had been deflected.