Deep in the Mountain's Heart
Suddenly, I found myself wondering about this guy's true nature. He seemed fiercely loyal to the god Harpocrates, but there was something off—too alien to be just a simple servant of the divine.
I was curious, but asking outright wouldn't get me anywhere.
"Hold on, let me recover the arrow first."
I reached for Artemis's Arrow embedded in the cannibal giant's eye, but the bastard was still twitching, making it a hassle. Even though he was done for, his limbs flailed wildly, splattering the pooled blood everywhere.
Crunch. Drip.
As I gripped and yanked the arrow, something snapped with a sickening sound. His eyeball burst, trailing a bundle of optic nerves. Then Artemis's Arrow vibrated violently before crumbling to dust.
"Huh?"
As I stared in confusion, Python, watching from the side, explained.
"The divinity within it has been exhausted."
"So the divinity in the arrow has a limit?"
"Indeed. It must have been used several times already. Even you took a direct hit from it."
Python gazed at the arrow's remains scattered on the floor with clear displeasure.
"Offer the giant as sacrifice. Is this body not waiting?"
The Secret Book beside me gaped open, urging me on while prattling about the ritual for human sacrifice. Somehow, tendril-like tongues had sprouted—not just those, but sharp teeth too. Half-rotted, they reeked of foul decay.
"But that's impossible right now, isn't it? Python's right here."
"If the giant dies, we can't perform the ritual. A corpse weakens the effect. The soul must linger in the body for the greatest reward. Make it happen somehow."
Come to think of it, the Secret Book always dismissed anything after death as worthless—a mere lump of meat, it sneered.
Given its attitude, letting the cannibal giant die would slash the rewards big time.
"Make it happen somehow...? I got nothing."
As I racked my brain, Python suddenly staggered. I barely caught her as she pitched forward.
"You okay?!"
"Ugh......"
Python's forehead burned like she had a fever. Cold sweat poured down her face.
"She overdid it with the spell in her weakened state."
"What do we do?"
"Get her back to her lair fast and let her rest."
"Then we postpone the sacrifice. Can't leave her like this."
From what I'd overheard, the ritual was more complex than expected. No time for leisure.
The Secret Book grumbled, clearly expecting the sacrifice, but I wouldn't budge. Even post-regression, going full rogue, I had lines I wouldn't cross. Without Python, I'd be giant chow. Couldn't abandon her.
"I'll take her to her mountain home."
"Even if it means abandoning that giant?"
The Secret Book extended a tendril toward the fallen cannibal giant Thematos, as if demanding a choice.
Only one answer.
"Even if it means forsaking a prime sacrifice like a cannibal giant, I'll help Python. Hmm, that belt looks nice—maybe snag that at least?"
The cannibal giant wore a belt adorned with gold—clearly no human craft, a treasure at first glance. Worst case, grab that.
"If that's your will, so be it."
"Good, let's move."
Resigned to ditching the giant, surprisingly the Secret Book offered a solution.
"He's brain-dead anyway. Won't die easily."
"Mm... Even humans linger in that state for days sometimes, but will it hold?"
"Comparing Thematos to a mere human is absurd. He carries mythic blood. Even in that wretched form, his breath won't fade quickly."
"Even so, no way to transport him. Left alone, he'll die eventually, rot, and lose power—become scavenger fodder. Seen it myself."
"No worries. I can handle it."
"What?"
The Secret Book was a hefty tome, maybe a meter tall. That maw couldn't swallow a giant...
Riiip!
Suddenly, its mouth gaped impossibly wide. It began devouring the giant headfirst, slow and deliberate.
Gulp! Gulp!
Like a python swallowing a deer. The grotesquely expanded jaws wobbled side to side, forcing the giant down. Tendril-tongues helped shove him into the book's inner darkness.
"Holy shit... it's actually eating him..."
I was speechless watching it finish.
"If you'd mentioned that ability sooner, this would've been easier!"
"I merely react to your judgment. Which choice is right? Only results tell. Ditching that snake on your back for sacrifice might've been far more profitable. She could be dead weight now."
"No way. Can't do that."
"Precisely. Since you chose thus, I devoured the giant."
"You're not usually so helpful."
"Just a whim. No guarantee next time."
In other words, it bent the rules out of favor for my decision. If displeased, it wouldn't have. Had I sacrificed immediately, I might never have learned of this power.
Under Harpocrates' orders to watch and aid me, it wielded considerable discretion. Sly bastard. Pushed for sacrifice, then rewarded opposition. Still couldn't read its true intent.
"Good. Got the near-dead giant secured. Let's get Python somewhere safe first, then sacrifice later."
"Know where this snake lives?"
"She said the mountain. Heading up, she'll wake. Ask then."
"This way, O great goddess of the moon and hunt."
The ash-tree nymphs, Melias, guided Artemis, goddess of the hunt and moon. Tense but striving not to seem rude.
Artemis, accustomed to such fawning and deeming it her due, strode with nose high. Flanking her were warrior-women heaping flattery.
"Lady Artemis, incredible! Finally, that troublesome serpent falls to you."
"I saw your arrow hit true."
Artemis chuckled lightly at her vowed-virgin warriors' words.
Python was no pushover. But she'd seen the arrow strike. Its tenacious life force let it flee, but not far.
"Yes, the long hunt ends at last. I, Artemis, blocker of the apocalypse's seed, shall shine on Olympus. My arrogant twin brother will pale."
Unlike outsiders' views, twins Apollo and Artemis weren't close—just allies of necessity. Each poised to stab the other's back when the time came.
"Truly magnificent, Lady Artemis."
"Enough flattery."
Cutting the warrior cold, Artemis asked the guiding nymph.
"How much farther?"
"Almost there. You heard the cries from there. We feared approaching."
The night Python writhed from the arrow, nymphs kept distance. Python was decent neighbor, but no need to incur Artemis' wrath.
"Fine. You're dismissed."
At Artemis' leave, Melias fled with relief. A clear serpent trail marked the ground—no further guide needed.
One warrior took point unbidden; the group advanced leisurely.
But at the site of Python's agonized moans, faces hardened.
"This is definitely it..."
Pools of blood confirmed Python dying here, per nymphs. A massive snake corpse should remain—yet nothing.
"Someone pulled the arrow?"
Artemis scowled at the warrior's words. A senior barked.
"Foolish talk! Who dares touch our goddess' arrow?!"
"True..."
Not impossible. Another god could. Or a divinely blessed hero.
Issue: who dared interfere with Artemis—Zeus' daughter, one of the Twelve Olympians?
"Calm yourselves. I'll read the traces of time."
Artemis seethed but clung to composure, trusting her edge.
While brother Apollo foresaw futures, she peered into pasts. Her divine power would reveal last night's events precisely.
"Reading time's traces!"
"Magnificent, goddess!"
Her warriors gushed at the miracle. Witnessing it was glory to her idolaters.
"Watch in awe. Our goddess will unmask the scoundrel who dared interfere."
The senior declared confidently—she'd seen it before.
Artemis smirked at the swagger.
Been a while since I flexed. Time to see who mocked me, Artemis.
She summoned moonlight that chronicled the past. Daylight turned pitch black; moonbeams wove silhouettes, replaying the night.
"That's him!"
A warrior pointed at the white-light man—warrior-clad, spotting the giant snake, shocked. The lunar snake spoke to him. Cautiously, he approached the arrow.
"Ah!"
"He seeks death!"
Warriors gasped. They knew touching a divine arrow's peril best.
All expected instant death.
But—a flash blinded; when clear, he held the arrow intact.
Incomprehensible.
"Impossible! A god maybe?"
"No, a hero backed by one!"
"Unbelievable! Enduring Lady Artemis' power!"
Warriors buzzed in shock, speculating wildly, identity unknown.
Oddly, even under time's trace, his face blurred.
Her power should reveal clearly. The senior, knowing this, stiffened.
Something wrong. Glancing, her goddess bit her lip, trembling.
What the hell?!
Artemis couldn't fathom it. Past-reading was her privilege. Why no face?
Reason crumbled fast. Someone thwarted her hunt and vanished traceless?
Desperate, she sensed the arrow's divinity—gone, expended.
That damn thief wasted her precious arrow too.
Rage chilled her core.
Odd. That man had some square thing floating nearby. Iron plate? What is it?
The Secret Book—its metal cover and size fooled her; no thought it a book. Gods rarely saw it; her method an exception.
A crucial find by chance, but pride's fracture snapped patience.
Huntress robbed of prey. Power failed to identify culprit—before devotees.
Utter humiliation.
Kill them all.
She couldn't forgive. Whispers would spread despite gag orders. Already shamed by Calydon's boar loss. Another? Father's favor evaporates.
Cold-faced, she gripped her bow.
One warrior, Atalante, saw.
No way? Lady Artemis?
Atalante sensed doom but denied instinct. Nearby warriors chattered culprits, oblivious.
Then it hit: time for a fateful choice.