Prologue - The Flatterer Perseus (4)
Thus the twelve Olympians, gathered together for the first time in ages, made no effort to hide the positive curiosity in their gazes. The rare bit of chaos was entertaining, it hadn’t wounded anyone’s pride, and there was something rather endearing about a human who revered them stirring up this kind of trouble on their behalf.
The wager, of course, was simple: Who would be the very last to receive an offering?
A straightforward, amusing little bet. Even though no one had uttered a word of reproach, somehow ending up last still carried the sting of being the god the diligent mortal valued least.
Not every seat was filled, but every face one would expect to see was present.
“Then each of you may speak your mind.”
At Zeus’s leave, the first to open his mouth was Poseidon himself—blue hair and beard, eyes blazing with fierce light. He slammed his massive trident into the floor with a thunderous crack, laughing boisterously as he jabbed a finger at the empty seat whose master had not bothered to appear.
“Obviously it’s that Ares who’s missing! The brat’s reckless antics echo across the whole of Greece! You ordered him not to meddle so blatantly in the mortal world, yet he still takes human form and throws himself into wars! That’s why he’s not here! That hooligan—I’d understand if he never received a single offering at all, never mind last place!”
Gyahahahaha!
Poseidon threw his head back and roared with laughter. Ares’s reputation was infamous even among the Olympians. Even his own parents, Zeus and Hera, were less than fond of their son, so the argument carried a certain weight.
—However.
“That’s far too forced!”
Bang!
The one who rose, slamming her palm down on the round table they all surrounded, was the most beautiful woman present.
“…Aphrodite?”
The long-haired blonde who had leapt to her feet in a fury was none other than Aphrodite, goddess of beauty.
Clad in fabric thinner and more transparent than anyone else’s—so sheer one might mistake her for a common streetwalker—she flared her high nose and flashed her sharp green eyes, pointing at another vacant seat as she rejected Poseidon’s claim outright.
“How troublesome of you to speak so ill of him! He may look that way, but he has many fine qualities he never shows others!”
“Oh? Such as?”
“His face! And the size down below! His stamina! His manliness! And unlike a certain someone, he’s even brave!”
In the corner, Demeter and Hestia clutched their heads. Those were absolutely not reasons one ought to declare with pride. The virgin goddess Hestia in particular flushed as red as her own hair, mortified by the words.
Yet Aphrodite’s shamelessness knew no bounds. Even as the two goddesses burned with embarrassment, she boldly jabbed a finger at the empty seat—unlike the large one Poseidon had indicated for Ares, this chair bore only crude, rough ornamentation.
“Rather, the last to receive will be Hephaestus!”
Defending her adulterous lover with such passion while openly scolding her actual husband cracked the smile on Zeus’s face.
Hey, hey hey hey, you crazy bitch.
He’s still your husband, you know.
But the king of the gods, determined to preserve his dignity, did not rebuke her outright. He merely shook his head. Many of them had received great aid from Hephaestus, and given the mood, Zeus took it upon himself to speak in the smith’s defense.
“Still better than Ares, is he not? That hooligan didn’t even answer the summons.”
“He didn’t come either!”
“I know that child is busy, unlike Ares.”
“Are you saying that with a straight face?! The god of war went out to make war—that is also work! I never imagined the Supreme God would so blatantly favor one side! Hmph! Premature ejaculator with an ugly face! Besides, Ares is the son of Lord Zeus and Lady Hera—why defend him?!”
“Hephaestus is also my son…”
“—Anyway! The last to receive is Hephaestus! Hmph!”
“…………”
Aphrodite’s rudeness was enough to kindle anger, yet pity for Hephaestus outweighed it. Zeus’s eyes stung unbidden.
What a tumultuous married life the boy leads. Is it because Hera’s blood runs so thick in him?
The thought of marriage drew his gaze to the seat immediately beside him. Sensing it, the snake-eyed woman with her seductive makeup offered a faint smile.
“Hera. What is your opinion?”
“…Hmm.”
Hera was a woman whose sharp black eyes looked ready to drip venom. Dark makeup and lips painted in deep hues gave her a slightly frightening yet piercing allure. As goddess of marriage and the household her exposure was modest, yet like a wife preparing for her husband’s bed she had bound her red hair with flawless neatness, and beneath her elegant nape she adorned herself with brilliant ornaments.
“Hera?”
“I see. Since this is a wager and I must choose only one… there is truly only one name that comes to mind.”
“Oh? Whose?”
She possessed every bit of the presence expected of the Queen of the Gods, yet she was also one man’s wife. Narrowing those sharp eyes, she chuckled softly and pointed. At the tip of her finger stood a male god whose white hair suited him perfectly.
“Me?”
Of course it was Zeus.
“Yes. Troublesomely, no other god comes to mind but you.”
W-why?
Why me?
Zeus’s thoughts spun in bewildered circles. He could not fathom why she had chosen the Supreme God himself, and he turned his gaze seeking aid from another.
“Looking at me like that is troublesome.”
She was the only woman present wearing armor—white-haired like Zeus, sharp black eyes like Hera. The personality that seemed ready to snap matched her appearance; arms crossed, she immediately cast her vote.
“A-Athena. You don’t know either?”
“No—the opposite. I share Lady Hera’s opinion.”
“Even you, Athena…”
As Zeus’s voice went flat with defeat, a young man giggled in perfect time.
“…Hermes.”
“To hear such words from the goddess of wisdom. Father, you truly carry many sins.”
The handsome youth whose winged hat and golden curls suited him so well teased Zeus without malice—more the laughter of a mischievous child than true mockery.
“Then who do you think will be last?”
“Me~? Ah~! I suspect it might be Apollo hyung!”
“M-me?!”
At the sudden spark, a true peerless beauty of a man who would not yield even to Hermes sprang up, golden hair tossing. He struck his lyre proudly to assert himself, yet he was so flustered the melody collapsed into chaos.
“Why suddenly?! L-logically explain once and for all why I am supposed to be last!”
“Come now, don’t get so angry. Everyone’s overlooking it, but no one knows the gender of the one sending the offerings, do they? If it’s a woman, then Apollo hyung is certain.”
“So why me?!”
“Well, Apollo hyung has never once had a pleasant experience with women. Therefore if the sender is female, I thought you would naturally end up last.”
“—Ugh?!”
At those words a great peal of laughter exploded beside him.
Kyahahaha! Kyahahaha!
Apollo recognized the undignified source at once.
“Artemis—euk!”
“Yes! Yes! Hermes is right!”
This time it was a white-haired girl. Apparently most Olympian goddesses possessed sharp eyes; this one was no exception. The woman with moonlight-silver hair clutched her ample twin mounds and laughed uproariously, twisting the golden beauty’s face still further.
“And your personality is rotten too! If it’s a woman she’ll definitely leave Apollo for last! Mm, yes! So I also agree with Hermes!”
“The order of offerings is not decided by us!”
“I know! That’s why we’re betting you’ll be the last to receive, isn’t it?”
“Kuuuh~?! Then I pick you!”
“Ahahahat! —Uek! Me?!”
“Well, just as I’ve treated women that way, you have an equally foul reputation among men. You haven’t forgotten what you did to Actaeon, have you?”
“That was because the fellow saw me naked—I had no choice… Ah! More than that, you and Orion—?!”
“That story again! I already told you it couldn’t be helped!”
“What?! What couldn’t be helped?!”
“Hmph! Want to try me?!”
Ugya-ugya-ugya—! Ugya—!
Like squabbling children the twin gods began to brawl. Apollo and Artemis, forever at odds over the matter of Orion, descended into their usual chaos so predictably that no one bothered to stop them. If anything, the long-absent lively atmosphere loosened the others’ tension; faint smiles appeared around the table.
“So Poseidon picks Ares, Aphrodite picks her husband Hephaestus, Hera and Athena pick me, Hermes and Artemis pick Apollo… and Apollo picks Artemis…”
“It’s roughly narrowed down. Then what about you?”
“Me?”
“Did you intend not to participate, Zeus?”
“It isn’t that.”
At Hera’s prompting he turned the matter over in his mind.
Hestia and Demeter, who have already received, are of course excluded… If not Hermes, who is easy to underestimate at a glance…
The mortal sending these offerings possessed sharp wit. The way he had pinpointed and praised exactly what would please Demeter was especially clever. That meant even the overbearing Ares could still be in play—yet Zeus deliberately chose a wrong answer here.
“I shall pick Aphrodite.”
“What?! Me?!”
“Haha, do not take it to heart. No one else chose you, so I selected you on purpose. There is no great meaning in it.”
“I-is that so.”
Aphrodite spoke the words, yet every goddess present saw through Zeus’s true intent.
Obvious lie.
The goddess of beauty was infamous for her narrow-mindedness. There was a well-known incident on Olympus in which some male god had once declared that her pettiness was quite enough when confined to her cunt—and had nearly been sucked dry to death for the remark.
Should I have chosen Aphrodite as well?
Indeed.
They all privately felt she might well end up last, yet no one changed their answer now. Apollo and Artemis continued their shrieking quarrel, but in the midst of it Hestia rose from her seat.
“Then, since the discussion seems finished, I shall go and check today’s offerings.”
“Please do.”
Zeus offered her a light nod and stroked his beard.
“I wonder who will receive the offerings today?”
The Supreme God was certain he would not be last. Save for Hera and Athena, the others surely thought the same. After all, deliberately placing the highest power of the age at the very end—unless one were volunteering for suicide—was simply unthinkable.
Whether aware of their expectations or not, a great quantity of offerings arrived today without fail, just as before.
The true face of the man who flattered the gods was about to be revealed.