Hestia's Interest
"Flying high and free, aren't they? The regent won't catch them at that speed."
The god of wine, Dionysus, gazed at the two Pegasi soaring through the sky and addressed the two gods nearby.
Hermes, the messenger god, nodded in agreement.
"Orion's got quite the aim with arrows, but Pegasi are divine beasts. No way to catch them easily."
Pegasi were divine creatures; ordinary spears and swords couldn't even pierce them. Yet Orion had struck one in the rump from afar with an arrow—Hermes praised it as a feat worthy of legend.
Hestia, who had been listening silently beside them, muttered in a displeased tone.
"Why was Orion even in Mycenae? Shouldn't you all be more concerned about that than his archery skills?"
The virgin goddess's point made the two fall deep into thought. Orion's appearance meant one thing clearly: the hunting and moon goddess Artemis's influence had already extended its claws into the Mycenaean royal family.
Hestia pressed on with her opinion.
"The regent Thyestes rising so suddenly is suspicious enough. There are already three princes above Agamemnon and Menelaus. In my view, it looks like Artemis is backing Thyestes."
Dionysus set down his wine cup and nodded. For some reason, this young, free-spirited god of wine became exceedingly polite in front of Hestia.
"Seems that way. The humans' fates are just mirroring their patron gods' situations."
He was referring to Ares, the war god who had recently incurred Zeus's wrath. Even with Hephaestus's lantern, Ares had failed to conquer Python's cave. No need to mention how the king of the gods, who already despised him, had flown into a rage, calling it utter humiliation. Thanks to that, Artemis's own string of embarrassments had been swept under the rug.
"I see. Ares was backing King Atreus."
Ares backed King Atreus. Artemis backed Regent Thyestes. Their situations had diverged sharply.
King Atreus lay bedridden and unconscious. Thyestes, meanwhile, had caused a stir in the agora but still held power firmly.
Hermes, who had been listening quietly, interjected with a displeased expression.
"To begin with, they say Ares was asked by Artemis to assault Python's cave in the first place."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Hestia's eyes widened in surprise. Hermes, ever attuned to rumors, made it sound plausible.
"That girl's been sly since she was little."
To the benevolent Hestia, Artemis's calculating nature was distasteful. But she oversaw hearth and home, having long withdrawn from the gods' power struggles. She observed everything, intervening only when necessary.
Yet she was a daughter of Cronus, a great goddess with profound power. No one truly knew what Hestia desired. She always smiled quietly, unable to hide her perpetual ennui—but lately, she seemed different.
The perceptive Hermes noticed quickly.
"Lady Hestia, you seem a bit changed these days?"
"Oh? Do I?"
Her pleased smile was something unseen before. Something had definitely shifted.
"There's someone worth watching now."
Hestia's divine gaze drifted toward Peleus and his group, flying far off toward Spartan lands.
Dionysus asked her cautiously.
"You seem quite taken with him, Lady Hestia. But heroes like that have always appeared now and then. He's promising, sure, but there are greater ones on earth. Compared to the pinnacle, Heracles, he's just a novice. What draws you to him?"
There were plenty of great heroes: Heracles, Jason, Odysseus, Hector, Theseus, Orion, and more. None fell short of Peleus—in fact, all had amassed incomparable achievements.
Dionysus couldn't quite grasp why Hestia fixated on Peleus; it felt like favoritism.
"Who knows... Maybe he's the hero I've been waiting for."
Hestia fell silent after that. Dionysus was truly curious about what swirled in this goddess's mind.
On the surface, she was delicate and lovely like spring petals—but in truth, she embodied ancient myth itself. As Cronus's blood and an Olympian great goddess, unimaginable chaos dwelled within her. That made her a difficult opponent for Dionysus.
Sometimes, when the black stars of the night sky paid homage to Hestia, Dionysus felt a chilling terror. Yet he never lost respect for her, sensing an inexplicable uprightness that set her apart from other Olympians.
He couldn't quite explain it yet, but Hestia was different.
"I see."
"Hehe, for now, I'll just watch. It's entertaining, after all."
Dionysus resolved to keep his eyes wide open on what she prepared for the end times.
After flying far on the Pegasi, we landed in a quiet forest near Sparta. The Pegasi all returned to Mycenae. Pity—they were royal divine treasures, borrowable briefly but not stealable. They always headed back to their stables.
"Lord Peleus, you've saved my life again. I've never had such a splendid friend in my life."
Agamemnon, back from the brink of death, expressed endless gratitude. He bowed to his brother Menelaus and to Atalante for her aid. Then he asked,
"What on earth have you been up to? And what of the cannibal giant?"
"I lured and repelled the cannibal giant then. We'll share the details over drinks once we're in Sparta."
"Defeating a Titan descendant like that... Your prowess reaches the heavens, Lord Peleus. I, Agamemnon, can only admire you endlessly."
Agamemnon continued his high praise unchanged. It might have been a misunderstanding before, but not now. After succeeding in divine fusion on Python's mountain, my abilities had reached a level that astonished even me.
-Really pisses me off. You were kinda cute when you were a scrub.
The Secret Book seemed displeased with my growing strength day by day.
"Lord Peleus, I offer my deepest thanks once more for saving my brother."
Menelaus, standing beside him, gripped my hand tightly and bowed in gratitude. Agamemnon's cherished younger brother was a strikingly beautiful man with lush red hair.
In Greek-Roman mythology, he was Sparta's king, a hero who shone in the Trojan War. Things likely weren't much different in this parallel world. I intended to make him Sparta's king.
I hadn't suggested fleeing to Sparta for these brothers on a whim.
"I couldn't have done it without your help, Lord Menelaus. You're too kind."
I said that and returned the borrowed Zeus's Sword. Menelaus shook his head as he took it.
"I, Menelaus, still have much to learn, but I know a good thing when I see it. Your feats in the agora mark you as a hero of the age. I offer my profound respect."
Bowing deeply, he astonishingly extended the royal treasure sword back to me.
"I can't accept this!"
"Unlike the Pegasi, bound to the royal stables, this sword can go anywhere. I believe you're its true owner, Lord Peleus."
"No, this belongs to Mycenae."
I love freebies, but this felt burdensome. It wasn't just any sword—Zeus's Sword, one of earth's top-tier weapons.
I refused, but Agamemnon joined in urging me.
"Though it's royal property, only you can wield it, Lord Peleus. No need to question ownership."
No, you'll end up a lesser hero without it later... Agamemnon was the epitome of item-reliant glory.
-Peleus, time to flaunt your false humility. Pretend reluctance and take the sword. It'll make a fine tale.
The Secret Book subtly urged me not to take it, but I muttered back as if to myself.
-Hmm, what? He's future king material, so maybe it's fine?
-What?
-Can't refuse such earnest begging, right? Bad manners.
-You bastard!
Face full of greed!
I actually liked building bonds with gifts. We give and take to grow close—that's greasing the wheels.
"Ahem, embarrassing as it is, if you insist, I, Peleus, shall strive to be worthy of this sword."
Jeers erupted in my head immediately.
-Urp! Trash! Trash alert! Trash here!
Trash? Manners demand not spurning good intentions. Before Agamemnon could change his mind, I swiftly pocketed Zeus's Sword.
Heh heh heh, scoring a legendary blade—time to bask in item luck. Still, to avoid drawing the king of gods' attention, I'd use it sparingly. The end times hadn't begun; caution was key. When true apocalypse came, I'd unleash everything and thunder like a storm.
"Such nobility—towering as Olympus itself."
As we basked in the warm atmosphere, a bizarre voice suddenly intruded.
"Miiiint—thee. Bee-yoo—tii-ful Miiiint—thee."
What? A phlegmy rasp fervently calling "Minthe."
-What's Minthe?
I asked the Secret Book first.
-Idiot. They call the mint nymph Minthe.
-Ah, got it.
So why was someone summoning the mint nymph like that? But the footsteps weren't ordinary. The ground shook—must be a giant.
We were all capable fighters, so no fleeing; we watched curiously.
Our anticipation was rewarded with the world's strangest sight.
"What... is that?"
Even I, who'd seen all manner of oddities, gaped.
A giant crawled forward, eyes blindfolded with cloth, groping the earth. Strange enough—but atop its shoulder rode a man gleefully whipping it.
"Hahaha! Faster!"
We were speechless. Atalante reacted first.
"Eek! Pervert!"
Shuddering, she hid behind me, clinging to my waist and peeking over my shoulder.
The approaching pair halted at her voice; the man stopped whipping.
"Pervert? That's harsh, isn't it?"
He told the giant to rest, jumped down, and approached us.
A handsome man with a fine mustache and splendid attire. He looked utterly normal.
"Does my behavior seem strange?"
Everyone looked at me. What? Me handle this madman?
As my eyes pleaded, Agamemnon and Menelaus—cowards—stepped back slightly.
Damn opportunistic bastards! Where's the gratitude now?
"Well, from a conventional social view, it's... hard to stomach. But what exactly are you doing?"
Curiosity won; I asked. He grinned slyly yet cheerfully. An oddly charming smile—base yet likable.
"Truth is, that giant's my ride."
He whispered close.
"Is that so?"
"The giant was a repeat offender of evil deeds, but recently fell for a nymph named Minthe. I'm exploiting that."
He'd tricked the giant into devotion. Blindfolded, calling his beloved Minthe in penance, and gods would grant wishes. The wicked but naive giant was fully duped.
"That's downright evil..."
Even I wouldn't stoop that low.
"Evil? Harsh words for my pure heart, like a mountain spring. It's good for both. He's happy chasing his wish; I get a ride to Sparta."
That's fraud! A ruthless scoundrel.
"By the way, that giant's wanted in Sparta. Hahaha! Turn him in at the end, claim the bounty—perfect profit!"
Chillingly vile. I had to ask his name—to avoid him later.
"Heading to Sparta? May I have your name?"
Trimming his mustache, he replied brightly.
"I'm Odysseus."