Waiting for the Harvest

Atalante frankly admitted to my deductions. A strong sense of resignation washed over her. What was the point of denying it now?

"You know everything, don't you? Are you some god from somewhere?"

Atalante eyed me suspiciously. With knowledge of the future and the ability to read the gods' reactions, I suppose I must look that way to her.

"No, I'm just a human like you. Though we're clearly different in some ways."

"How so?"

"You failed miserably, didn't you? Even the Calydonian boar you set as your goal—no need to hunt it anymore. It fell by this Peleus's hand."

I tilted my chin up smugly, and Atalante's already pale skin drained of what little color it had left. She bit her lip but said nothing.

"You don't even know what happened tonight. Why do you think the Calydonian boar showed up here?"

She probably had a vague idea that Artemis had sent it, even if she didn't know the details. But she couldn't admit that outright—it would mean acknowledging that the boar, which had caused so much destruction, belonged to her goddess. And unlike me, with my grasp of the gods' movements, she was sorely lacking in information. She couldn't even guess why the deity she served had unleashed the boar in a rampage tonight.

—Why are you mentally pressuring that girl?

The Secret Book, which had been listening silently, chimed in curiously. No pity in its tone, of course.

—To make her a proper hero.

—What nonsense is that?

—Traditional heroes are tormented souls. This body is kindly gifting her some anguish.

—And what's in it for us? Besides satisfying your twisted psyche.

You know damn well, asking anyway.

—To harvest that beautiful girl. Atalante will drift further from Artemis. She'll realize the one she admired and served isn't what she thought.

—And your scheming hastens that?

—Yes. But that's not the only issue. Tonight's failure will earn her enmity from Mycenae's third prince too. He'll want to erase the evidence. In short, I'm expecting this girl before me to be backed further into a corner.

—She's despondent now, but her pride remains strong. Her respect for Artemis lingers. It might be too soon to pull her into your arms. Tonight's events have soured her impression quite a bit.

—So we'll watch and wait, then. For the harvest.

—Until that sweet, beautiful fruit ripens fully and falls into my lap.

—Sounds entertaining. Heh heh heh.

It seemed pleased with my stance—its voice dripped with delight. This thing's sneakily wicked, too.

"I... don't know...."

Atalante finally muttered her response. Still couldn't badmouth Artemis, huh? That must be the best answer from her position.

"Not knowing doesn't end the problem, does it?"

"Ugh...."

"I don't even see the point in talking to you anymore."

I waved her off lazily, as if shooing a fly.

"You got help anyway, so I'll overlook your disgrace tonight. Get out. I won't pursue the crime of targeting the royal treasure."

At my magnanimous tone, Atalante's shoulders trembled. She glared daggers at me, then shot to her feet and pulled something from her bosom.

"What's this?"

A thick gold ring engraved with the Atreus family crest. I knew whose it was at a glance but feigned ignorance.

"You're beautiful, but not my type. If it's a love token, hard pass."

"It's the token from the third prince for our deal!"

Atalante shrieked irritably, and I chuckled.

"Why give it to me? If this blows up, you'll be implicated. It'll be a massive scandal."

"It's my way of settling things—and atoning!"

Even if it meant bearing the infamy, that resolve.

"I won't do this again, not even for the greater good. But I admit to the theft this time. Do whatever you want!"

No sniveling excuses, as expected. I like that personality.

Atalante whipped around.

"Leaving already? See you soon, Artemis's huntress."

"Shut up! I never want to see you, not even in my dreams!"

Her footsteps thudded angrily as she stormed off. Plenty of pent-up frustration there. Probably won't sleep for days.

"Still so young. So very...."

Watching a girl like that grow into a great hero—should be fun. In my arms, not Artemis's.

I held up the royal gold ring, examining it closely. Not enough on its own as proof of tonight's events. But as they say, many a little makes a mickle. It'll come in handy.

—You let her go awfully easily, Peleus.

—We'll meet again soon enough.

I planned to wait until Atalante lost her way and wandered aimlessly. Then I'd extend a hand. Not a warm, kind one, of course. More like the devil's grasp she couldn't refuse.

About two hours later, the prince and warriors stirred awake. Groans of pain from bruises everywhere filled the room. No wonder—they'd been beaten senseless and flung to the corner by the Zeus's sword's power.

Agamemnon came to first and immediately asked me,

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"The treasured sword!"

I pointed lazily to one side instead of answering. There sat the royal treasure safely on its pedestal.

"Phew...."

Agamemnon sighed in relief, looking a decade younger. Then he gaped at the room's devastation.

"Lord Peleus, what in the world happened?!"

The only thing intact was the pedestal with the sword. A rampaging giant boar had torn through everything else.

At least Artemis had vanished with it, leaving no trace—small mercy. No blood, flesh, or bones littering the place. If it'd exploded and stayed, it'd have been gruesomely unbearable.

"There was a bit of a commotion chasing off the thief. I repelled her in the end."

I held up a torn scrap of clothing nearby. They all recognized the thief's garb.

"You truly defeated the thief! Incredible!"

Starting with Agamemnon, the warriors crowded around, exclaiming in awe. Battle scars everywhere, shredded clothes, the pristine Zeus's sword—all evidence backed my victory.

"Defeating that monster—truly impressive!"

"I agree!"

"Your Highness is a great hero!"

The warriors couldn't hide their joy. They'd nearly suffered a humiliating defeat tonight—losing the royal treasure to a single thief would be an indelible shame. I'd saved them from that nightmare, so they mobbed me with hugs and cheers.

"Thanks to Your Highness, we protected the royal treasure!"

"The gods sent you, sire! We thank you sincerely!"

Agamemnon felt the same relief—he'd have been shredded by his father Atreus if the sword was stolen. Especially right under his nose; that man would bronze-roast his own son.

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Lord Peleus!"

"Helping you, Agamemnon, is reward enough."

"Such gracious words. But what exactly happened?"

I beckoned him to a corner as he asked about the details during their blackout. He shrewdly ordered,

"Clean up this mess."

Once ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the warriors left, we spoke softly.

"Lord Peleus, is the thief dead? No body, so she must've fled?"

"Agamemnon, this."

I gave a filtered account of events and handed over the third prince's ring.

"She left this behind retreating. Take it and use it well."

Agamemnon was wise enough to wield it effectively.

"Thank you. This Agamemnon will aid you in anything for Lord Peleus. Just say the word."

He gripped my hand tightly, deeply moved.

"What reward for a good deed?"

The Secret Book made retching sounds but I ignored it.

"We'll discuss future matters back home."

The chaos seemed over. But more unexpected events awaited.

Flash.

A brilliant light exploded, and an auspicious aura swirled in the room's center.

"What, what now?!"

"Protect the treasured sword!"

The warriors, freshly traumatized, panicked.

"Everyone, calm down."

Agamemnon stepped forward. But he wasn't drawing his sword. The aura wasn't malevolent—it felt warm and pleasant. Realizing something, he addressed us:

"All kneel. A great being seems to be descending."

I couldn't help widening my eyes watching. A god? Finally seeing one in person after coming to this world?

My heart pounded.

Soon, a divine presence manifested. A stunningly beautiful goddess emerged gracefully from the light, her robes flowing elegantly.

Mesmerized, I met her gaze and hastily bowed.

The goddess introduced herself. Eunomia, Goddess of Order, guarded Olympus's gates—a lesser deity who often descended to earth on Zeus's errands.

Eunomia's voice was refined yet commanding. Agamemnon responded with perfect poise:

"Noble goddess, thank you deeply for coming to Mycenae. Speak your words!"

Truly Zeus's great-grandson—dignified and bold even before a goddess. The other warriors cowered rigidly under her divine presence, heads bowed low. Even her warm smile couldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dispel the aura of a superior being; brave fighters froze solid.

Huh? Me? Caught off guard that the Goddess of Order would address me too, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠quickly composed myself and replied politely.

"Noble goddess, speak."

Zeus showing direct interest so quickly? Unthinkable.

"Such words to unworthy me—I'm at a loss."

What? Zeus granting me power? Good fortune or ill omen—I couldn't tell. I'd planned to court divine patronage, boldly claiming Athena wasn't enough... but talk is cheap. The King of Gods swooping in far sooner than expected made me flinch.

—Impressive if intentional, Zeus.

As I pondered his motives, the Secret Book posed a blunt question.

—Or maybe he just mistook you for his son?