What the Hell Does That Mean?!
Greatly flustered, I asked the Secret Book.
"Why didn't you tell me right away!"
As I snapped, the Secret Book seemed utterly exasperated.
"No, but... this might be more important than the Oites right in front of me."
I wanted to shout into the void, "Lady Hestia! It's a misunderstanding!"—but the cruel reality that I couldn't was utterly heartbreaking.
[Proposing a bet yourself, only to chicken out? Pathetic little worm.]
Oites had clearly misinterpreted the shock I couldn't hide on my face.
Seeing him snort like that ignited a raging fury in me.
Yeah, it's all your fault. You bastard.
I'll dump every curse and grudge I have right on your head.
"Kuhuhu. As if. Things are just getting fun now."
Hestia's misunderstanding could be cleared up later.
For now, focus on the bet right in front of me.
Besides, with Lady Hestia watching, I couldn't afford to look pathetic.
"Oites. I propose a bet."
[Fine. Let's hear it.]
"How about we compete in techniques for handling divinity?"
That was the domain where my talents shone brightest.
But Oites froze blankly for a moment—then erupted into mad laughter.
[Kahahahaha! What an absurd, idiotic fool! Trying to make me die laughing?!]
Oites clutched his belly, howling so hard he nearly tumbled off his seahorse.
His guffaws boomed across the sea, whipping up towering waves.
[Kahahahaha! What the hell do you think this body is? My divine rank may have dipped since the old days, but I'm still a god. A god! How much do you fucking underestimate me?!]
Of course, that reaction was only natural.
Even if I was a genius at wielding divinity, my opponent was an actual god.
"As if. I know you could crush that like a bug."
[Then why the hell bet against a god in handling divinity? Never been a matchup like that in the world. It's like picking up a hammer and challenging a blacksmith to forge iron!]
Oites must've clocked the divinity inside me the moment he saw me.
[Sure, I get that you've got a shit-ton for a puny human. But you're still just human. Compared to a true god like me? You're a goddamn firefly under moonlight.]
"How could I not know that? But I'm not talking whose field has more wheat. It's whose farming skills are sharper."
[Fine. If you wanna end up in Hades' realm that bad, I'll send you packing. Nice and clean.]
Oites leaped down from his massive seahorse and planted his feet on the waves.
Striding effortlessly across the water—it was pure divine majesty.
He climbed onto the dock, and up close? Way bigger than I'd figured. Easily 2.5 meters tall.
[Sometimes us gods gotta show you humans a little virtue. Know what that is?]
"No clue."
[Teaching dumbass humans their place. Nemesis's usual gig, but today? I'll lead by example.]
Oites was already dead certain he'd win—but I was confident in divinity handling too.
Per the Secret Book, my talent was one-of-a-kind, never seen before or since.
And that wasn't my only edge.
"Oites. Let's make it a single decisive throw."
[Whatever. Betting one toss brings you luck? Wake up. Won't happen. If I lose, hell, I'll dance for you. But lose? Get ready. Arrogance before a god ain't cheap!]
Oites glared down fiercely.
That piercing stare could've shattered a normal human's mind.
But I met it stone-faced, and he looked a touch surprised.
[You do have something going on. Fine. What's the contest?]
"Javelin throw? See whose spear packs more punch."
I'd picked javelin for a reason, of course.
But spear-throwing was basic warrior fare—no one would bat an eye.
[Javelin, huh. Could be fun!]
Rules were dead simple: Fixed amount of divinity to craft a javelin, then hurl it.
Pure physical strength for the throw—no divine boosts, or it'd be a missile, not a spear.
Hearing that, Oites's sneer deepened.
[Way too cocky. Think you've got a shot if I stick to muscle? Can't you see this body's divine?]
"Strength? I hold my own just fine."
Oites didn't know it, but my power was Heracles's.
No way a demigod outmuscles that.
[Balls swollen to bursting. Fine. Target?]
I had him whip up a thick bronze plate.
"Bronze makes shields. Deeper embed in the plate? Perfect warrior measure."
[Approved! I like it.]
With godly creation, Oites conjured a massive bronze slab.
Bold as ever—over 3 meters thick.
A metal behemoth like that... Even top warriors would just dent and bounce.
Oites? Cocky as hell.
[Pure muscle? I can bury it to my waist!]
"Got faith in my strength too. But this bet's core? Best divinity-crafted javelin."
[Worry 'bout you. Watch—this is easy eats.]
No hesitation: Oites shaped divinity into a javelin right in his palm.
Sleek, glowing white—masterful precision.
But he kept at it, spawning and vanishing javelins from every land's style.
[Tough callin' it.]
Bullshit—he was flexing his craft.
Showing he could nail any form perfectly on demand.
While he showboated, I got to work.
"Hmm..."
I knew the blueprint, but it was finicky—eyes half-shut, total focus.
To win? Max my edge over Oites: Earth science.
[The fuck you building?]
As my divinity warped into a freakish javelin, Oites gawked, baffled.
Damn right—mine looked weird.
Earth tech? No one's eyes here had seen it.
What I was crafting? An APFSDS round—"wing-stabilized discarding sabot."
Tank armor-piercer as the head, long shaft trailing.
"Phew..."
Done at last—relieved sigh.
Earth docs on the structure? Lifesaver.
Deceptively simple, brutally intricate—drained my brain. Forehead slick with sweat.
[What is that shit?]
Oites scowled at my mutant spear.
Shell-head on a stick? Head looked like a deformed bomb.
Tilted his head... then smirked.
[Total moron. Bulky freak head gonna hit harder? Basics rule.]
His? Plain Jane battlefield-refined.
"Optimal," he claimed.
True—but beating gods takes weird.
"So confident? Demo first. Humble me goes second."
[Suit yourself. Hope my throw doesn't crush your spirit.]
50 meters from the slab.
Pure muscle to punch 3m bronze? Demigod or not, tall order—Oites rolled shoulders, face grim.
[Here we go! Witness my javelin's perfection!]
His was god-crafted ideal: balance, weight, center—all flawless.
[Graaap!]
Shout—javelin screamed through air, slammed home.
Kaaang!
Clang echoed; slab shuddered.
"Damn impressive."
Slipped out.
[Check it.]
"On it."
Plate-side: Shaft stuck out snake-length; rest buried.
No full pierce, but monstrous power.
Oites grinned.
[Kahaha! Solid.]
My turn.
Top that—he figured victory sealed. Weirdo spear? Laughable.
Time for science.
"Phew..."
Deep breath, gripped at 50m.
Eyed sabot-head: Shell vibe, arrow-tip weirdness. Penetrator + sabot duo.
"Hap!"
Full-force hurl.
Heracles jewel? Matched his velocity easy.
But the money shot: Mid-flight boom.
Quaang!
Sabot basics: Charges, sheds outer bits pre-impact—leaves needle-slim penetrator to drill armor.
Mine too.
Bang—shaft/sabot shed; penetrator flies solo, nails plate.
Kang!
Solid thwack, puff of dust. Lame visually—no drama.
[What the...?]
Oites snickered.
Embedded? Sure, but weak-sauce.
Hestia? Clocked it instantly.
＜The Virgin Goddess Hestia cannot hold back her admiration for you. "My god......"＞
Oites clueless, waved to inspect.
Strutted ahead, hands clasped.
[Nothin' to see? Kahaha, you don't even know what you did.]
Demigod or not—no way he groks unseen sabot physics.
Closing in, face stiffening.
God-eyes spotted surface hole.
[No fucking way...]
Groaned, denial-shake.
Plate-front: Confirmed.
Penetrator blasted clean through 3m bronze.
[What?! Bullshit!]
Exit hole too—eyes bugged.
[What insane principle? Explain. Can't buy it.]
"Sure."
Broke it down simple.
Oites sharp—grasped the weirdness.
[Fucking absurd javelin... Amazed or WTF?]
His "perfect" design? Felt like a joke now.
Rules allowed any shape with quota divinity—no gripes.
Got it now? Straight-up impressed.
[How the hell you know this? Ain't teachable.]
No scorn left. Javelin craft? Weird respect.
"Boast ant-knowledge before the great? Nah."
[And that ant-knowledge smoked me.]
Deep sigh.
[Lived ages... first loss this ridiculous! Haa... I yield.]
Prideful Oites head-down.
Gut-boiling, undeniable proof.
Pure science win.
Perfect pull-off? Chin up, nose sky-high.
God opponent? Whatever—promise kept.
"Oites."
[Yeah?]
"Eh, nice tidy end—lucky us. But duty calls, right?"
Nodded.
[Fine. Pulling sea forces. You're Thetis's betrothed...]
Me shaking head nonstop—tilted his.
[Why? Wrong?]
"Oh yeah. Very. Forgot pre-bet words?"
[Huh?]
"Dance, even?"
Face drained ashen.
Oh, this'll be good. Gods blanch greenish when shook?
[No, c'mon... that's...]
Forgot god-dignity, backpedal-flail.
More he squirmed, more I pressed.
"What? Want me to drum up some fanfare?"