Chapter 145
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: First Trial
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A marriage blessing from the goddess of marriage herself.
And from Greece, the true homeland of utter depravity, no less—a promise of unconditional protection for any woman who marries me. That was truly a massive boon.
'But... is this really okay...?'
I was already unofficially entangled with two lovers, and I'd even made a move on one of Olympus's goddesses.
Yet the goddess of marriage was blessing my married life?
I was too scared of the fallout to ask outright, but she seemed fully aware of my situation.
'Eh, whatever.'
Still, she was a goddess, and she'd sworn on her own divine duty. Was she really going to take it back?
Besides, once I built up my Demonic Cult as planned and blossomed the divine duty Hera entrusted to me, no god would dare touch anyone around me—even without her blessing.
So I decided to gladly accept the queen's blessing.
"Oh, right—one more thing. You absolutely must not touch the seed of divine duty with your aura like you did just now."
"Pardon?"
Truth be told, I wanted to rush back to my room and thoroughly probe the energy called divine duty slumbering in my heart.
More alien and intense than any qi, demonic qi, mana, natural energy, or vital essence I'd ever encountered—this seed of divine duty.
It was a seed of potential beyond comparison to any fortune I'd seen, and it had me salivating.
And with its domineering power, it had effortlessly absorbed even a taste of Reverse Heaven Art and Traveling Plague Devouring All—techniques hailed as unmatched in history for their variability, adaptability, and freedom.
The seed had ignited my challenging spirit.
But with queenly insight, Hera had seen through my plans and laid down the law without hesitation.
"According to the prophecy I glimpsed, fate will soon send you a trial of divine duty, so no need to worry. But given your abilities—and your curiosity—I have no choice but to warn you explicitly. Under no circumstances are you to meddle with divine duty using your personal powers."
Got it?
Her eyes promised violence if I refused, so I could only nod quietly.
"Good. Now off you go. You've shone in a great war and claimed victory—you should spend time with the lively young ones, not this old goddess."
"Yes, then I'll be..."
As I stood to bow at the sudden dismissal, I suddenly found myself alone in the middle of the forest.
"Whoa..."
The beautiful goddess's guidance to a private audience with the queen of the gods felt like a dream.
But the divine duty firmly rooted in my heart proved it wasn't just a daydream.
"Heh, major league is a whole different level, huh?"
In Greece, "major gods" or "great gods" meant the third-generation deities with thick Titan bloodlines.
Fourth-gens like Artemis, Hermes, and Ares could match them to some extent depending on their divine duties.
But third-gen heavyweights like Amphitrite, Poseidon, or Hera just now displayed authority so vast even I felt it as distant awe.
"Long road ahead."
Yet the emotion gripping me wasn't despair or overwhelm—it was delight.
Hera's authority was a signpost showing that my once-presumed limits in inaction and martial arts could advance further.
And now with divine duty acquired, the thrill of growth—something I'd thought forgotten—surged back, knowing I too could one day reach such divine heights.
"So, what now...?"
Honestly, goddess's orders be damned—I was dying to return to my room and dissect this heart-seed divine duty every which way.
But it was the queen who'd looked after me in all sorts of ways, and recalling those beautiful eyes evoking a mother's warmth made even me hesitate to disobey.
"Come to think of it, even that punk Feng, a Four Heavenly Kings no less, cowered before Mother."
The guy who'd inherited Mad Wind Shredding Horn Spear progress and single-handedly ravaged Kunlun's headquarters got a spanking from Mother just for a hole in his clothes.
That image of him flopping around after taking multiple blades to the gut, only to get smashed by Mother's backhand—it was prime drinking story fodder even now.
Maybe I wouldn't be any different.
"Sigh~ So what to do?"
The war had kicked off at dawn and wrapped before breakfast, leaving time dangling awkwardly.
I'd danced up a storm at Apollo's hall and chatted intimately with a goddess, yet the sun still hung high.
Festival kicked off at sunset.
From what Nerine said at dawn, her sisters probably wouldn't show till deep night.
I considered visiting Atalanta, who'd reached a new realm, to congratulate her—but Wind's Gossip said she was having a modest celebration at her hideout. Pass.
Nerine might drag in exhausted with her sisters from last night.
"Guess I'll check on the reserve swordsmen."
The first batch from the magic army training project I'd passed—my named Jason and the Fifty Swordsmen. Time to take a look.
In spear-and-shield Greece, they'd wield only swords, slipping like lambs through huddled phalanxes to rampage like lions.
"Pure potential-wise, not a single reject."
Which jacked up the cutoff for temperament instead.
Hotheads like Heracles needed tempering anyway, and healer Asclepius might benefit from Inscribe on Skin, Engrave on Bone tucked in his head.
But basically, demonic arts suited my teaching style best.
True demonic arts of the Twelve Divine Demons, enshrined even in martial history's long annals.
If weak-willed fools trained them, qi deviation would look like child's play—a disaster scattering across Greece.
And if total degenerates inheriting their parents' scum swung them wildly, cleanup would be a nightmare.
Plus, no way I'd let such trash tarnish my masters' arts.
Result? After Supremacy of the Heavenly Demon, even Sea King Spear, and dragging out Reverse Heaven Art's killing intent to boot.
"Honestly, should've stopped at Sea King Spear, but Jason was so alive it got me hyped."
Still, seeing him face Reverse Heaven Art's killing intent head-on without crumbling, putting up a real fight—I figured I'd snagged a good one.
But what do you know?
Out popped 1+49 with brains actually screwed on straight.
Watching my slaves—no, grad students—bring in solid company must be how department heads feel.
With proud thoughts of my future demon candidates' gathering, I headed to Athena's battlefield.
Most forest unit folks were at clinics or their tactical fields/coliseum hideouts, so it was pretty quiet—crossing the woods to Hestia's main avenue.
"Fate sending a trial, huh. Wonder how it'll come."
Half-joking about a meteor from the sky, I stared upward idly when someone blocked my path.
"W-Wait a moment!"
"?"
This avenue was rare permitted entry to kings and princes' quarters.
But with everyone out on Hero Forest tours in the lull, why was some dark-haired dude blocking me?
Figured another scout offer from a king, so I glanced down disinterestedly.
"What is it? I have no plans to leave the forest yet..."
His outfit screamed wealth.
Sandals decked in prime wolf pelt and gold, fine himation embroidered lavishly with Apollo's gleaming sun in gold thread.
His blue-green hair shone glossy, meticulously groomed by attendants.
Straight-up "I'm a pampered prince from a rich kingdom~" vibe, around my apparent age.
Probably another marriage proposal or scout pitch, so I moved to brush him off—but his face left me speechless.
"Oh, my god."
"Please, just hear me out for a moment!"
The man's face, grabbing me with a drowning man's desperation, was utterly bizarre.
Like someone had smeared paints across it with a brush at random.
For an instant, I suspected a Greek gods' black humor curse—but no, it wasn't visual; it was raw instinct.
Chaos so extreme it flipped even my far-seeing eyes piercing human fortune and woe.
First time seeing this face, but I knew exactly what it was.
'Heavenly Killer? Heavenly Killer actually exists?'
Heavenly Killer.
The fate where heaven itself schemes your death.
If my life was getting screwed by the world, Heavenly Killer meant every single birth digit—year, month, day, hour—loaded with killers, born in horror, dying in horror.
Even Divine Fortune-Teller had seen it only once in 150 years; I'd wandered a century without spotting it. Near-mythical rarity.
He said you'd recognize it at a glance if you ever did.
This was it.
"...What kind of life have you lived?"
"Ah...! Y-You see it!?"
Even one killer-fate strand meant not surviving infancy; growing up just spreads blood and calamity everywhere.
And yet this Heavenly Killer Noble—every aspect of him steeped in killing fate, his face twisted by it—stood alive before me?
Tongues wagged even at sky-falling meteors; I was floored.
My intent-probing eyes ramped up, resonating with the heart's divine duty.
-Thump! Thump!
Divine power and spiritual force welled in my eyes, amplified like a lens by divine duty, piercing the flesh-veiled man's fate.
And I was stunned beyond the divine duty's own surprise at his fate.
'Traveling Horse, Sheep Blade, Flower Bloom—even the last one's Void Loss?'
The killers in his fate boasted an irreversible epic arc that even impressed me.
Not a spot to settle anywhere: Traveling Horse Killer.
Existence itself a honed blade—step out, see blood: Sheep Blade Killer.
Rules over people, but ruined by those bonds: Flower Bloom Killer.
And finally, all efforts futile and void: Void Loss Killer.
At least no Primal Array or Ghost Gate, so no Bloodshed Gate flung open everywhere—but that was it.
Every path blocked, life's road a thorn-choked hell, ending worse than infernal pits.
If it'd been Shame Killer or Primal Killer at least, a blind blade might've ended it quick.
This? Can't die easy unless suicide.
Life itself pure torment.
'Damn, Goddess's prophecy hits hard...'
Wondered when "soon" meant.
Less than 30 minutes post-prophecy, trial rocketed in.