The Thief God Hermes (2)
"Huff, huff." By the time Clea stopped her legs, the sun had already begun to set. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. She hadn't been wasting time running aimlessly; she had been sprinting along the northern border of Corinth, checking to see if the demonic beasts had already breached the perimeter. She had even hidden herself well, keeping in mind the danger of the enemy using secret paths only she knew about to bypass the defenses. This was the extent of what she could do, possessing nothing but a bit of speed as her only merit. Even with the blood of a god, if one failed to awaken as a hero, they were no different from a human.
Her father, Autolycus, was the same. In the sense that he disregarded honor and indulged in greed, stealing and hoarding, one could even say he was less than an ordinary human. The fight against demonic beasts was the duty of heroes, or at the very least, trained soldiers. Ordinary people were merely slaughtered by them.
"Heroes... they really were different." It was a feeling she had experienced before when watching the Amazon named Penthesilea, who had stayed in Corinth long ago. They were draped in some kind of aura. An insurmountable gap was visible. It felt like they were a different species that just happened to share the same form as her. It couldn't be a sensation felt only by her. That must be why everyone instinctively revered them and offered greetings whenever they saw a hero.
"Sisyphus, strangely enough, never seemed intimidated, either." He had been like that since the old days. Whether it was people or heroes, they would eventually gather around him. Of course, she herself had realized that she, too, had been chasing him like a honeybee chasing flowers before she knew it. What was different about him? Clea, who had watched him for a long time, found that point truly difficult to understand. There was still so much she didn't know, and she felt as though he was drifting further and further away to a place she couldn't reach.
Clea returned to the mansion with a touch of loneliness. At the mansion, Clea tried her best to avoid the eyes of the family members. She was an uninvited guest in this house. She tried to do at least one person's share of work by helping the servants with chores. Thanks to that, she was well-versed in the back paths and the times when she wouldn't be seen by the family. It was when she was returning to her room through the mansion's hallway after finishing the laundry.
"Brother, now that I am the acting lord of Corinth, I believe I have the duty to grasp the situation accurately." She heard Alcyone's voice. Now that Salmoneus had effectively been excommunicated, she was the second pillar of the household, second only to Sisyphus. It seemed she was questioning him. "You said you're going to war with the god Hermes tomorrow. Didn't the bad blood with the Autolycus family end six years ago? It's time you explained how things ended up like this."
Clea, who had been about to pass by, stopped dead in her tracks. Even though she knew the demonic beasts were invading, she hadn't known that her grandfather, Hermes, was the enemy. Clea held her breath and began to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"As you say. You need to know now, too, Alcyone." It was Sisyphus's voice. He opened the door to a long story. "You remember when the Reaper Thanatos visited."
"Yes. At the end, you were kidnapped by some giant, brother. You said you had been to the Underworld then..."
"Thanatos had come to kill you and Clea."
"What?!" Clea had to cover her mouth, never imagining her own name would come up so suddenly.
Sisyphus's story went on for a long time. The incident where the Reaper grew enraged after he revealed Hades's schemes, the way things went awry and the God of War, Ares, kidnapped him to the Underworld, and the fact that he had earned Hades's grudge as the price for his immortality. It was a tale of how he returned to Corinth from the Underworld, only to be dragged to Olympus, barely escaped, met heroes, and finally returned.
"Olympus doesn't know I've escaped yet. They said they were preoccupied with the war. If I'm discovered, I'll be hunted, so I have to leave here soon, too."
"That's..." By the time the story ended, Alcyone's voice was tearful. "...Did it hurt a lot?"
"It was bearable."
"Brother, you really suffered so much... And thank you. For doing all that because of me."
There was a rustling sound of clothes. Alcyone was hugging Sisyphus and patting him. On the other hand, Clea, who had heard the story from the hallway, had to grab onto her legs, which felt like they were about to give way.
"...Ugh." Fearing she would make a sound and be caught, she slipped away.
"Haa, haa, *sob*." Only after she had barely escaped the mansion did she catch her breath.
"Sisyphus... because of me."
The reason he had gone missing twice was nothing else. It was because of her. He had endured humiliations he shouldn't have had to face while trying to prevent her unjust death.
"And I... without even knowing that."
She had only complained that he suddenly disappeared and didn't return. She had even resented him in her heart for not speaking to her for several years. If a god appeared one day and said they would take Sisyphus's life, could she say she would gladly give her own life in his place without a second of hesitation? Sisyphus had done it. Not for some great person, but just for her. Because of pathetic her, who couldn't even keep a childhood promise and blamed him instead.
The wrath of the gods was terrifying. A whole polis could vanish from the map in a single night. He hadn't spoken of it, but looking at him now, she could fully imagine how grueling his experience must have been. This was Sisyphus. Sisyphus, who was called the wisest intellectual in the city. He had returned with such a strong, scar-filled body. It wasn't that he had become that way because he wanted to. He must have been placed in an environment where he couldn't survive unless he became that way.
"*Sob*, *sob*...!" Clea began to run. Without even realizing where she was going, she moved her legs at full speed, tearing through the grass where darkness had already settled. It was a self-defense mechanism triggered instinctively. Because whenever she was distressed or struggling, she always ran. She ran because she had to.
"Sisyphus, Sisyphus...!"
This was no time to be doing mere chores. While he was writhing in pain, how much had she been living in luxury? If she hadn't met him, she would still be living a mess, stealing to survive. No, her short life would have already ended long ago. She realized only now how happy she had been, while she had been saying such extravagant things about how she couldn't dream anymore. When Sisyphus disappeared, she should have set out to find him, running with all her might. If she had, couldn't she have at least reduced his pain by a single day?
Clea wanted to be a hero. That was why she was always running. These legs were meant to be used for that. She had spent her whole life running to fight honorably for those who were suffering. "What use is it if I can't even run to the one person I love...!"
How much time had passed as she ran and ran? The sun was already beginning to rise. "Haa, haa." Before she knew it, she had climbed up to the mountainous terrain. Her legs were covered in countless scratches from grass and tree branches. In the slowly brightening dawn, the lowlands began to come into view at a glance. A long river cutting across the north of Corinth. The river was filled to the brim with a swarm of demonic beasts, black as ink. It was a disgusting sight, like ants gathering toward their prey. Above their heads, a man was walking through the air with ease, scattering golden radiance.
"Hermes." Clea ground her teeth without realizing it. It was under the name of that very thief god that her father had sold her off, swearing restitution to Sisyphus. A psychopath who protected thieves who plundered what others had achieved through effort. He had stolen her dreams. He had stolen everything from Sisyphus. The fury toward the handwriting—no, the thief—began to boil through her heart and throughout her entire body.
"Anticlea."
Snap! At the sound of someone calling her name, Clea snapped her eyes open and scanned her surroundings. "What a pleasant reunion, my most excellent child." The shadow that appeared in the darkness slowly took off its robe. A middle-aged man with liver spots on his face showed a dirty smile.
"You...! You had left this land!"
"Ah, my child. I am disappointed that you have forgotten my teachings. What did I tell you?"
Step! He moved his feet and instantly shifted behind Clea. "If you decide to steal, you must steal. There is no failure in theft. Why is that? Because the value of a treasure increases as time passes. You can just steal the secret treasure you retreated from once again."
"What are you trying to steal? Is it cattle again?"
Tap, tap! Clea ran to distance herself from him, but the middle-aged man reacted quickly and caught up again. "Your vessel is small. The reason I stole things from Corinth little by little wasn't just to target wealth. It was to open the path and eventually steal the entire territory."
"You are insane."
"Those who struggle to gain wealth are the ones who are insane. You can have everything if you just steal it, so why pursue honor? The result is the same anyway. It is the teaching of our great father." Autolycus nodded with satisfaction. "Six years ago, the plan was perfect, too. I intended to devour Corinth while my father made it weak. If that hero, Penthesilea, hadn't blocked the path, I would have succeeded. Even though I had planted you, my child, inside."
"...What?" Clea's face turned icy cold.
"That you sold me off... was to infiltrate me to take Corinth?"
"Of course. Wouldn't it have been easy if you assassinated a few people from the inside? If it were you, you would have naturally understood my intentions."
"Why did you think I would follow your orders?"
"You are my child, Anticlea. Of course, there are plenty of countermeasures for a rebellious child, but do you wish to experience them?"
Clea did not answer. Instead.
—*Sshhh*....
Mana began to burn in her eyes. The platinum mana resembling her hair blazed like flames, gradually taking on a thick, vivid color.
"Right. It is the way of things that a child should follow the parent's wishes."
"You understand, Anticlea."
"It means 'one who rejects fame.' I always hated that name."
Strength went into the tips of Clea's feet as she pressed against the ground. "You called me by a different name when I was young. After forcing me into ridiculous cross-dressing."
"Hmm? Ah, was that so?"
—*Crackle!*
Clea's burning mana began to spark and spread in all directions. "If you thought I would just watch like I did back then, you've made a huge mistake."
"...What are you saying, Anticlea?"
"I've endured so much all this time."
Resentment welled up. Because she was pathetic for having done nothing all this time. No, because she hated herself for having done nothing. Making excuses that it was determined by fate. She was angry at herself for having turned a blind eye until Sisyphus became like that. She was angry, angry, so incredibly angry.
"Sisyphus—" A boiling shout erupted from Clea's throat. She screamed until her veins felt like they would burst. "Do you think I'll let you take him again!!"
—*Crackle!*
Intense sparks exploded as if lightning had struck. 'No?! She disap—.'
And before Autolycus's eyes could react.
—*Crunch!!*
Clea's knee, which had arrived at supersonic speed, was exploding against his face. *Thud, thud, thud, THUD!!* Autolycus couldn't even scream as he flew, knocking down dozens of trees. Clea stood before him, her golden mana shimmering.
"I will be furious. Just as the name you gave me, 'Odysseus,' intends!"