The Hunting Tournament Bait
Finally, the hunting tournament had begun. The autumn day was brilliantly clear, perfect for an outdoor feast. Perhaps because of that, King Tyndareus didn't start the event right away. Instead, he gathered the heroes and threw a grand drinking party.
The tables overflowed with the kingdom's finest aged wine and succulent meats slathered in sweet spices and roasted to perfection.
"Wahahaha! When it comes to hunting, none beat this Iasus!"
"Who said that? Underestimate me, and you'll regret it!"
The air buzzed with lively cheer. Even the heroes who had been at each other's throats during the suitors' assembly were laughing heartily today. Drawing everyone's eyes were the foreign prince Peleus and Crete's king, Idomeneus.
At the previous feast where Helen had appeared, the two had been ready to devour each other alive. Now, they passed cups like dear brothers, shocking those around them.
"Elder brother, you first."
"No, little brother, after you."
Their brotherly display lightened the mood among the other suitors.
"Hahaha, look how well they get along now."
"No more tearing each other down—let's compete fairly."
Everyone rejoiced, thinking Peleus and Idomeneus had drowned their grudges in a single cup. But aged King Tyndareus of Sparta sneered inwardly.
Honey on their lips, daggers in their bellies. Neither is your average sly fox. Those two will stir up real trouble at the tournament. Keh heh heh!
Having weathered countless battles and backstabbed endless foes, Tyndareus saw right through Peleus and Idomeneus's act.
Perfect for me. Time to fan the flames a bit more.
Tyndareus clapped to draw all eyes, then spoke.
"With so many outstanding heroes gathered, I expect legendary prey from the tournament starting in two days."
"Of course!"
"Just leave it to us!"
The tipsy heroes roared back enthusiastically. Satisfied, the old king tossed out some bait.
"For those who crave the finest quarry, I'll share a rumor. I've heard that in the deepest part of yonder forest dwells a beast that would awe even the gods. Whoever among you uncovers the truth of that tale is sure to claim victory."
"Ooooh! That sounds thrilling!"
The heroes' competitive fires blazed, but it was all a trap laid by Tyndareus. The forest's depths held the Rainbow Goddess Iris's villa—trespass too far, and her wrath might descend.
Kekeke. None of my concern if it's not me.
As long as he could claim the white deer he'd lusted after since youth, he cared not how many heroes died. Outwardly benevolent, he had slain countless souls to cling to his throne.
Deeming a single mention insufficient, Tyndareus pulled promising heroes aside for private cups, spinning tales disguised as old gossip or hearsay. He urged them to seek the forest's grand prize. His silver tongue was flawless, his kindly mask impenetrable—no hero suspected his scheme.
"Hm?"
But Peleus reacted differently. When Tyndareus whispered the rumor to him, one corner of his mouth twitched upward in what seemed blatant mockery. The king blinked.
Did I imagine it?
No one would mock him so openly. The expression vanished, replaced by Peleus's loyal facade.
Must be the wine.
Dismissing it as his error, Tyndareus pressed Peleus harder before returning to his seat and proclaiming,
"Enjoy yourselves today! The tournament you await begins in two days."
The king rose first and retired, his chest swelling with dark anticipation. Yet something nagged at him uneasily. He could never pinpoint why.
Suspicious, right? The Secret Book reacted to my mutter.
What's so suspicious? You're the sketchiest one here.
Me being shady is old news—not special.
Shameless bastard... You're starting to sound like Odysseus.
Shut it and listen.
I'd caught King Tyndareus slyly prodding the heroes toward the forest's depths. His words were oiled silk, and without knowing what lurked there, suspicion was hard. But...
Something inside?
Peleus, you've remembered something from the forbidden tome again?
Yeah. No details in the Secret Book, but one thing's certain: Iris's villa lies within Sparta's royal woods.
The Secret Book wasn't omnipotent. I lamented the lack of deeper intel. Why detail Hestia the Goddess's love of flower arranging but skip Iris's villa treasures? Wait—actually, the former mattered more.
Villa?
Right. My guess: the royal family declared it private woods and banned access because of the goddess's retreat.
Plausible.
But the king keeps pushing the depths. Means something's there.
Now the Secret Book grasped it.
He's inciting the heroes toward... something?
Yeah. No clue what, but it ties to Iris. And it's no good intention.
Uncovering Tyndareus's secret felt key to this hunt. But clarity eluded me.
Watch and wait. Besides the hunt, I need to bury Idomeneus in those woods.
Think he's plotting the same?
Glancing at Idomeneus per the Secret Book's note, he glared murderously. Our eyes met; he flashed a friendly grin and raised his cup. I mirrored him.
"Elder brother! To your health!"
"Hahaha, cheers to my fine brother."
Drink up. It'll be your last.
That night, I tossed sleeplessly, pondering Tyndareus's scheme. I half-grasped it.
Seems he's tangling with Iris somehow. But what does he want?
I could guess his aim, but lacked data for certainty. As I clicked my tongue lying there, the Secret Book spoke.
Night visitor.
What? Again?
Why so many nocturnal creeps lately?
The presence wasn't Princess Helen—she'd followed for the tournament, lingering near the king's tent.
Assassin? This close to the hunt, it'd piss me off.
Nah. Intriguing—hold off.
As I reached for my sword, the Secret Book stopped me. My senses already pinned the intruder in my tent. I was inwardly stunned.
Impressive skill.
The thief's aura was no joke; tension gripped me. Debating a slash, the intruder surprised me. Unaware of the Secret Book's watch, he swiped one item.
I wanted to roll over and check, but feared alerting him.
What'd he take? Sounded like an arrow sliding.
Spot on. Stole one of yours.
The midnight thief grabbed only that prepared arrow and fled—no greedier. Bizarre.
Saw his face?
Masked, but I suspect. Eyes and build like Meriones, Idomeneus's hanger-on.
Meriones was one of the suitor heroes, Idomeneus's nephew and kin—naturally my foe.
Meriones, huh.
Just a hunch.
Enough. I expected tricks from their side. But why the arrow?
My arrows bore blue-fletched marks and my name, as did all suitors' to claim kills.
"Hmmm..."
Puzzle pieces clicked.
Think what they could do with your arrow, Peleus.
Fake it as mine, obviously.
Shoot another hero, frame you for murder?
Possible. But this feels different. Tyndareus stressed the depths... where Iris's villa lies. Wait—does he want heroes hunting her beast? He called it one to awe gods. Like Calydon's boar—a divine monster.
He's luring them to the villa, hoping for that prize.
Then your arrow?
A chilling possibility dawned.
If Idomeneus shoots the divine beast with my stolen arrow, Iris's wrath hits me. No need to kill it—just wound from afar, flee. Later, she finds my arrow in her injured pet.
Big trouble. Can you fight Iris?
I shook my head firmly.
Not a chance. Even Minor God Cycnus from my regression days was insanely strong. The High Priest—over 200, a legendary hero—hit the dirt. Blocking Cycnus's rage strike was awe-inspiring. Iris dwarfs him; her grudge means near-certain death.
So, your plan?
Plots tightened around me. One path emerged.
Meet Rainbow Goddess Iris first—before their schemes.
For real? A goddess? I'd advise against...
The Secret Book urged alternatives. Gods were fickle, deadly.
Peleus, your guts are legendary, but don't underestimate gods. You said it: one hit ends you. If she dislikes you, done.
Still, meeting Iris is safest. Not just Idomeneus—Tyndareus reeks of suspicion too.
True. But she's absent now. Summer villa.
True, but the Secret Book noted a caretaker demigod subordinate there usually.
Contact her through that demigod.
Fine, if you're set. But reaching the villa? God's domain—wards, traps everywhere. Only divine beasts or high followers know safe paths. Capricious gods sometimes grant human wishes at their homes, amused by foolhardy luck beating astronomical odds. But once a millennium, maybe.
I know. But I can get there.
Mastered some new divinity trick?
Nah, even I can't freestyle that. Not a god.
So saying, I told the Secret Book to open wide.
What?
Just open.
*Creak.*
Into its dark maw, I plunged my hand and withdrew an item. The Secret Book realized and marveled.
Ah, overlooked that! Hephaestus's lantern!
Yeah. With this, Iris's villa is mine. Time to spill everything—with a little dramatic flair.
Might as well topple Idomeneus and King Tyndareus from his throne.
Peleus, you'll ruin Sparta's king too.
I shrugged lying down.
White beard galore. He's milked it long enough. Time to retire, no regrets.
Kuh huh huh.
Toppling foes off cliffs soothed me. Sleep came easy; I slumbered till dawn.