“Kid, why are you hesitating? Kill him!” Polaris shouted urgently.

Emperor Tapia was just as anxious. “Boy, don’t be soft-hearted now. Kill him!”

Amid the frantic urging of the two great gods, Jacopo—merged with the divine sword—was shrouded in blood-red killing intent. His true form had already manifested, yet the blade still hovered against the burly figure’s chest.

“You… who are you?”

Jacopo stared at the indistinct face before him, his voice trembling.

Deep down, he had already guessed the answer. Otherwise, he would never have held back. But he didn’t want to accept it—didn’t dare to believe it.

However—