The Black Hero's Challenge
With Python, I attempted the fusion of divinities. I handled the intellectual aspects, while she provided magical support. For the first three months, there was zero progress, but then something suddenly clicked, and everything accelerated rapidly. At this rate, it seemed we were on track.
Just as things were proceeding smoothly, Python clicked her tongue at me and spoke.
"You."
"Yes?"
"Upon reflection, you're truly a pathetic excuse for a man."
"What brought this on all of a sudden?"
"How can someone who calls himself a warrior know nothing of martial arts!"
I'd never claimed to be a warrior... But I supposed wearing royal armor made it look that way. Still, Python's point wasn't wrong, leaving me at a loss for words. When I'd fought Atalante, my lack of martial skill had let her toy with me one-sidedly.
"I have been thinking I should learn something."
"Heh."
Python puffed up triumphantly at my words, as if she'd been waiting for them. She seemed eager to bestow a rare favor and display her superior's dignity.
"Good thinking, Peleus. That's why this one has summoned a special teacher for you."
"A teacher?"
"Indeed. An ancient spirit from long ago, felled in battle. No, calling it a spirit isn't quite right. It's merely a cursed soul."
She was assigning me the Cursed Hero as a teacher? A ghost? It was enough to make my blood run cold. But seeing her so confident, his skills must be the real deal.
"...Understood."
I wasn't thrilled about the 'cursed' part, but now wasn't the time to be picky. Building martial prowess was an urgent necessity.
"Excellent. I'll summon him right now."
Python began chanting a mysterious incantation on the spot. Suddenly, a fierce gust whipped around us. Chills crawled up my spine, my neck hairs standing on end.
"One loved by the gods..."
"One abandoned by the gods..."
"One who swore vengeance upon the gods..."
"Appear here and now, and fulfill your ancient promise to this one."
⟨ Summoning Ritual ⟩
As Python's call ended, the ground split open with a rumble. Roooar! From the deep fissure, a sinister glow emerged.
"Gah!"
I recoiled in shock as a figure radiating dark aura slowly ascended. He wore a golden funeral mask. The mask alone told me he was one of the dead. His winged helmet, once magnificent, was now battered—feathers broken, stained with blood.
Who the hell was this guy? Just his gaze made my heart seize up. He must have been a big shot in life.
A voice not of this world, laced with malice, emanated from the cursed soul. No matter how you spun it, it reeked of resentment. What kind of death forged a grudge that deep?
"I have a favor to ask of you."
Python, not being human herself, showed no fear of the undead.
"Teach martial arts to that runt over there. You were once the world's greatest hero; it should be child's play."
The cursed one tilted his head.
"Urk!"
Damn, he said it straight-faced. Sure enough, Python's cheeks flushed, her face twitching.
"Shut up! Do as you're told!"
Even as Python shrieked, the cursed one paid no mind.
"Of course."
Python nodded and pointed at me.
"It's thanks to this one."
The cursed one's icy blue gaze fixed on me with interest. After staring for a long moment, he nodded slightly.
"Know what?"
His sudden words startled me inwardly. With my regression and role as the apocalypse's executor hidden, had this ancient hero seen through me at a glance?
But thankfully, no.
I couldn't hold back.
"Pardon? What do you...?"
A hero's talent? In me? Absurd.
The Secret Book fumed the most.
That blind corpse! Dead so long his eyes have rotted. What hero's talent in such a wretch? Ridiculous! Right, Peleus?
Hey, if you affirm that, what does that make me?
No, it's too absurd! Refute him, Peleus! No way you have a hero's talent. I won't allow it!
You fit right in, don't you... Gnash. We'll settle this later.
I glared at the Secret Book before addressing the cursed one.
"I'm just an ordinary human."
His bizarre enthusiasm sent cold sweat down my back. No backing out now, though. Trials lay ahead.
Curiosity nagged, though. He seemed a famed hero in life—who was he?
"May I have your name?"
He wouldn't say, so I let it go.
"Yes?"
I wanted to ask what that meant, but he vanished, his business done. The ground sealed seamlessly behind him.
"Hmm..."
It felt like vital information, yet mostly incomprehensible.
Secret Book. Any guess on that guy's identity?
Not sure. This body knows little of humans. But he nags at me. Loved then abandoned by gods. Investigate if you can. Might reveal unknown tales of the gods.
Noted.
Training under the nameless cursed one began.
For some reason, he was highly motivated. Unaccustomed to such physical toil, I felt like puking blood daily.
"Aigoo, I'm dying."
Should've kept quiet. No sense of humor.
Morning martial training ended with afternoons devoted to divinity fusion research with Python. Half a year passed in the cave blinkingly. Everything had advanced leaps and bounds.
"Hahaha! Divinity fusion is within reach! Hah! Zeus, you bastard—thinking of your panic makes this one delighted."
Python, once irritable at stalled progress, was now the most excited.
"Python, you'd rejoice at throwing shit on the Olympians, no matter what."
"Exactly! Of course. Hahaha. If I can mire their future in mud, I'd gladly endure this. Ashen prospects suit Olympus."
Whining till now, but success flipped her attitude fast. Easy woman. But the end of this tedium with her was in sight—cause for joy.
"Now, the final fusion process..."
Suddenly, the cave shook. Kuuuung! A heavy rumble. As if the mountain's innards quaked. Like a massive explosion.
"What the—?"
This cave deterred all intruders. Under attack?
"Python!"
"Wait. I'll check."
Python closed her eyes, chanting. Moments later, her mouth gaped in shock.
"The entrance trap's destroyed! Impossible!"
I was stunned too. These weren't toys—god-tier traps by ancient Titan smiths. The deadliest cluster anywhere; even Artemis couldn't breach.
"Who? Can't you see?"
"Hold on. Casting Iapetus's Eye."
Iapetus, ancient Titan, left mighty spells. Iapetus's Eye: clairvoyance spell.
"Hm, a band of warriors. Vicious brutes, beastly-looking. Ah! They're smashing another trap!"
Another quake. Kwaaaang! Like a bunker buster. Dust rained; I brushed it off, listening.
"Their banner... Ares! Minions of the war god Ares!"
What? Ares?
I was dumbfounded. Why invade here?
Strange?
The Secret Book agreed.
Indeed. Ares hunts Titan remnants relentlessly, but never this mountain.
Right, Artemis's hunting ground. Especially her old grudge with Python—well-known. Even Ares respected her prey.
Why now? I frowned, muttering.
Like someone egged them on... Something like that.
Too cave-bound past half-year; intel lacking for judgment.
"Python, even Ares's warriors can't breeze through god-tier traps."
"Right! Should be... Huh? The black warrior leading—what's he holding? Let me zoom."
Like a camera zoom? Then Python jumped like a raging monkey.
"Eeeeek! Got it! Why they're breaching so easily!"
"Python, what is it?"
"Hephaestus! Hephaestus! Grrr!"
The lead black warrior bore Hephaestus's divine relic. It exposed traps; Ares's warriors smashed them with war god power.
"That damned Hephaestus! Knew he hated these traps since antiquity. Never showed it, but researched countermeasures all these ages!"
Smith god Hephaestus resented the Titans' masterpiece—couldn't surpass even with his skill. So he'd secretly crafted a relic.
Of all times, Ares's men wield it. Lightning strike.
"Python, with that relic, traps are useless?"
"Yes. Must destroy it somehow. Even Hephaestus can't remake it! But how?"
Python was strong, but traps amplified her. Under their aegis, even Artemis faltered. Now, disarmed.
"Not just relic. This deepest sanctum's defenseless. Ares's elite heroes, surely famed. Can we two hold?"
Cursed one gone till tomorrow. Just us vs horde. No fusion yet; I'm no powerhouse. Beat Atalante via items—none here.
"Grr... Why this mess?"
Python tore her hair. No fleeing—this sacred to Burning Nameless One. Python, mountain guardian, couldn't leave.
What now? An idea struck.
"A question."
"A plan?"
"Need to confirm something."
"Ask quick. Time's short."
Why hadn't gods blasted the mountain with spells? Python scoffed, forgetting peril.
"Pfft! You're a know-it-all fool."
"Why? Olympians could vaporize mountains. If headache..."
"Obviously? Such spells wake our Great One. I'd thank them with prostration."
Gods feared rousing Typhon.
"I see..."
I nodded; Python puzzled.
"You knew? Why ask?"
"Confirmation."
I nodded again, proposing.
"Since it's come to this, let's wake the Burning Nameless One ourselves."