Chapter 155
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 155
Chapter Title: Hostility Suspended, Neutrality Maintained
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Hostility suspended, neutrality maintained.
A single snake and a single bird endlessly probed each other, glaring daggers.
However, the eagle wasn't versed enough in serpentology to read the snake's face.
And the snake lacked the skill to divine the eagle's intentions from its gaze alone.
'What, am I some abstract painting or something...'
How many gods had dropped by to check me out in just the last three or four hours?
My sisters aside, Dionysus—with influence rivaling the Twelve Olympians—had scattered flags everywhere before leaving, and now here I was, locked in a staring contest with Zeus himself.
If I were any other Greek hero, I'd probably be foaming at the mouth and passed out by now.
In the meantime, I figured Zeus had tossed some casual blessings over the gathering on the coast, and the merrymaking continued apace.
The eagle broke the ice first.
[Ahem. Snake. Snake, indeed. A truly profound and mysterious creature.]
[Thank you.]
Now, let's liken this situation to a card game, shall we?
Poker faces all around—we couldn't see each other's hands.
My opponent was the owner of this Greek casino: loaded in wealth, power, and even raw might, the god among gods.
And that opponent was sizing up this casino newbie not as a mark to fleece, but as a VIP guest... or maybe a blacklist threat.
Probably because he had a rough idea of my hand and my backing.
Progenitors.
The self-born ones, gods before the gods.
Nyx, the ancient night mother who'd slipped into my dream for a casual hello during my enlightenment.
The goddess who was my mother—and likely the one who'd dragged me into this world.
Poseidon knew, Hera knew; any god worth their salt probably had the rundown on my bloodline.
But even setting that aside, this level of wariness didn't add up.
'So what is it? What could've turned the king of the gods into a scared little bird...'
The fact that something involving me was unfolding behind my back—especially in the realm of the gods, closest to the heavenly laws—was deeply unpleasant.
The silver lining? The supreme god Zeus seemed intent on caution or courtship, not outright hostility.
His nature was arrogance incarnate—inescapable for someone in his position—so this wasn't easy for him.
'And yet this pompous ass is swallowing his pride, even apologizing first...'
The thrill of dominance overrode the creeping unease down my spine. I flicked my tongue and dipped my snake head in a bow.
[I've always admired the birds of the sky—especially the king of the heavens, the eagle.]
[Heh heh, that's music to my ears. Why's that?]
[Because surveying the heavens means looking down from the highest perch.]
Pure bullshit, of course.
What good was soaring the highest skies?
Endless arrows from hunters, brutal turbulence—it'd drive you mad.
No companions to soar with, no challengers to follow; the vast heavens would feel emptier than the open sea, downright lonely.
But I kept that to myself and decided to stroke the eagle's ego for now.
'Classic arrogant types. They eat up praise from the very ones they were wary of.'
Flattery from obvious inferiors was just bootlicking, worthless.
But acknowledgment from a rival or a threat? That hit different.
And coming from the emperor himself at the banquet? Ironclad.
[Ahem. Is that so?]
[....]
The effect was almost too good.
I stifled a inward chuckle at the eagle preening, beak tilted skyward.
For now, Zeus was just a potential risk—not a sworn enemy worth full hostility.
Like I'd quipped in that poem, when I'd first tumbled into this world, his unwitting aid had spared me needless toil: food, shelter, a foundation for my martial arts.
Even after I snatched the divine duty he'd eyed from Hera, he hadn't flipped out in jealousy.
He nursed some regrets—I could tell from the jabs—but he hadn't turned it into violence. For an ancient god-king, that showed real restraint.
'Honestly, that's remarkably reasonable by god-king standards.'
Who knew better than me how brutally lords, clan heads—emperors even—could rampage?
Zeus's lechery almost seemed comical by comparison.
Conclusion.
Hold hostility. Maintain neutrality. Aim for friendly(?).
Of course, it'd depend on how they played it later, but turning a non-hostile party into enemies sounded exhausting.
Let's all just get along, yeah? Nice and easy.
[That poem of yours too—you're a real poet at heart! You'll hit it off with Apollo someday!]
Buoyed by my deference to his authority, the eagle bobbed its head excitedly, cackling loud.
[You have no idea how abuzz Olympus has been lately because of you. In Zeus's name, I invite you. Swing by anytime via Hermes. You've got Hera's divine duty now, so it won't take long!]
[Oh! Such is the mercy of the king of gods, ruler of the skies.]
We'd been hamming it up like a pair of eagle and serpent vaudevillians when a nasty spike of killing intent prickled from behind.
[What?]
[Hm? Wild dog show up?]
No wild dogs in Chiron's sanctuary, of all places.
Ridiculous.
And this killing intent was aimed at none other than...
[To dare harbor murderous intent toward those under Zeus and Poseidon's protection?!]
Elated by my pandering, Zeus bellowed in rage. I sighed, one culprit springing to mind.
[I know who it is.]
[That bastard—right now!!]
As the sky flashed with impending lightning, I quickly reined in the eagle.
[Calm down.]
[Calm? When some rebel defies my will and targets my brother's wife's kin?!]
No, calm the hell down.
The worst crime in Greece? Familial betrayal.
Even a god-king couldn't slaughter his own bloodline without ironclad justification—not without holy hell breaking loose from every corner.
And handing the world's strongest a debt of gratitude? No way I'd pass that up.
[Wouldn't it be proper for me to handle it? It's my event, my responsibility.
Besides, a king stepping into petty squabbles flies in the face of decorum.]
[Ahem... suppose so?]
...Easy mark.
I smirked at the not-entirely-hateable eagle and opened wide, drawing a massive breath.
-Huuuup!
Cold night air flooded my elongated serpentine body—denser than the 21st century could dream, thicker even than the murim era's ambient qi. Inside me, it mingled with my divinity.
-Huuuuuh...!
As my power blended seamlessly into the night air, I exhaled deeply toward the woods where the killing intent emanated.
The jet-black poison mist, laced with my divinity, began enveloping the area.
[Hooo...? That's something special!]
[Just an application of arts from my sister and master.]
Barrier arts from the Divine Regression Scholar, spells from Nemesis.
Infused with divinity and adapted to my current serpent form: a poison mist formation.
Trapped inside, the fool wouldn't escape no matter what.
[Excuse me a moment.]
Anyone daring to shit on my reality show? Unforgivable.
Like a diver plunging in, I hurled myself into the mist.
A pallid face, eyes gleaming with venomous fury, a shabby cloak pulled low: the man prowled the woods, trailing the traces of those who'd vanished into it moments ago.
Once renowned across Greece for his striking beauty, now twisted into savagery; eyes that once sparkled with cunning now oozed black emotions, devouring all light.
Theseus, prince of Athens—Heracles's great rival, now broken.
In his bosom writhed the divine weapon he'd forged himself.
Greece's fire, Hestia's kindling, centaur tail hairs.
The blood of the colossal serpent that once threatened the gods.
Snatched from Asclepius's hard-won stores, Theseus was convinced the gods blessed him as he pressed on.
Hunting countermeasures against Dianes, Theseus had ransacked the forest's grand archives until he unearthed blueprints from the deepest vaults—ancient designs.
Captivated by the schematics and the calculated power of the divine weapon, he'd poured everything into recreating it.
'With this, I can melt that damned Dianes and all those traitor bastards into puddles of blood!'
Jason and his crew, who'd betrayed him for some lowborn orphan of unknown origins.
Once those whores he'd summoned and the traitors clinging to them were dead, who would the blame fall on?
No one but him knew of this weapon's existence.
He'd bided time for war, only to fall first—and unfinished, lacking the poison.
If Dianes's assembled rabble died by mysterious means, she'd be the obvious culprit.
And right now, the nymphs he'd seduced were planting fabricated evidence in Dianes's chambers.
In the end, that rootless monster would slink back to the gutter where she belonged.
"That bastard... if only that bastard...!"
His body shuddered with hatred at the thought—that pitch-black nemesis.
Though he'd deny it, fear claimed the larger share of that tremor.
"No. With this, I can banish him forever!"
The hefty weight of the weapon in his bosom—"Theseus's Justice," he'd dubbed it—drove out the dread as he dashed through the woods.
The beach lay just ahead, where the traitors would be rolling in the hay with the whores Dianes had called.
'What? Nereid nymphs? Ha!'
Would sea maidens under Zeus and Poseidon's mighty aegis climb ashore just because his sister's lover whistled?
Obviously, he'd lured the traitors with some sleazy ploy.
Denying all ties to Dianes, even fabricating his own proofs, Theseus suddenly found himself engulfed by swirling black mist.
"Wha—what is this!?"
Too swift to evade, the black vapors enshrouded him in an instant. With it came a chill voice, sharp as a blade.
"What a profound disappointment."
"?!"
Amid the pitch-black fog, where not an inch ahead was visible.
There, in the center, stood Dianes—serene, gazing upon him.