Chapter 194
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: First Ordeal
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Travel!
Trials and discoveries, encounters and adversities, adventures and feats.
All of it weaving together into a grand drama, with the heroes at its center proclaiming their legendary names through the tales of bards and wanderers—that is travel.
When her lover and revered mentor, the guide who led her true path, suddenly proposed a journey, Atalanta leaped at the chance with unbridled joy.
As Nesneria had pointed out, even now, thinking back to that petty spat from her past when she still couldn't fathom why she'd acted that way, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hide.
Even she could see it—if she were Dianes, her eyes would naturally drift toward the beautiful and gentle sea goddess rather than some volatile brawler whose next move was impossible to predict.
She worried that, as things stood, she might be pushed aside by his second—no, undoubtedly more—lovers and forgotten entirely.
In truth, the goddess of strife who fearlessly clashed with her in a battle of raw passion, or the goddess of judgment who had stood in Aphrodite's way to claim him for herself—those weren't the mere protectiveness of elder sisters toward a young brother.
They were the vigilant glares of women determined not to let their desired man be stolen away.
Excluding herself, every woman surrounding Dianes was an eternal, immortal goddess, and before their divine radiance, even the title of Aura-awakened hero or princess of Arcadia held no value.
Atalanta's impatience grew with each passing day.
And her lieutenants and warriors could hardly remain oblivious to her worries.
They all cried out in unison, urging her to leverage her strengths.
Gods, demigods, half-humans, and mortals.
The blood of gods is so potent and fierce that even when sown, it rarely bears fruit.
But the vessel of humanity can nurture any seed, easily bringing it to bloom.
Thus, Aphrodite's daughter declared with certainty that if she conceived his child, Dianes's nature would never allow him to cast her aside.
She added that men, by their very nature, find greater vigor in new beds than in their own, making this journey the perfect opportunity for Atalanta to stake her claim.
"..."
Baby... a baby...
Dianes cradling a red-haired boy who resembled her, against the backdrop of beautiful Arcadia.
And herself training a black-haired girl who took after him.
Atalanta's face flushed hot at the dreamlike scene that sprang vividly to life whenever she closed her eyes.
If a child were born, it would naturally unfold before her just like that.
And to make that vision reality, the acts she would naturally have to perform.
The pleasure and gasps that would wrack her body during those acts seeped unbidden into her mind.
"Eut...!"
Her lower abdomen twitched at the memories of ecstasy, as vivid as the scenes she dreamed of.
And now, just beyond this mountain range lay...
Her legs, which had been bounding lightly, slowed as the thought hit her.
Heracles didn't miss the opening and jeered.
"Tired already? Wild boar?"
"Heracles, want to check what Asclepius packed for you?"
Always so oblivious to the finer details, yet sharp as a tack when it came to needling others.
They were currently charging through the Messenian Plain, scaling the Taygetus Mountains.
While Atalanta leaped effortlessly from sheer cliffs using protruding branches and jutting rocks, Heracles climbed using every limb at his disposal.
Her steps were light and rhythmic—tap, tap!—but Heracles assaulted the cliff face with such force it seemed he might trigger a landslide, practically pulverizing the rock.
Yet somehow, their speeds matched nearly perfectly. Atalanta sighed inwardly—blood of Zeus, always so infuriating.
"Heave-ho!! Haha! Aura, what a marvel! Glory to Prometheus's blessing!"
"...Monster."
Even more absurdly, while her Aura only manifested tangibly when needed, Heracles wrapped his hands and feet in it, jamming them into the cliff to haul himself up.
Pure waste—utter extravagance!
Atalanta could only shake her head in disbelief at this point.
Finally losing patience, Dianes took matters into his own hands.
-Whip! Thwack!
"Agh?! Dianes, what the hell?!"
Heracles yelped as a stone struck his head dead-on.
"Wild boar, cut it out! You'll cause a damn landslide!"
While Atalanta and Heracles bickered, the one leading them had long since reached the summit and now gazed down.
For a moment, the two warriors were entranced by his black hair swaying in the bright morning sun and the dark eyes looking down on them.
But when they realized the leader—who had been just ten steps ahead—now sat casually at the distant peak, the pair gaped in stunned silence.
"...When the hell did he get up there?"
"Less talking, more climbing!"
Damn it all!
If not for this royal wild boar!
Even as she heeded her lieutenants' advice and steeled herself for the deed, the mere anticipation was shattered by this king of boars, only fueling Atalanta's frustration.
Taygetus Mountain peak.
Or more precisely, the view from the summit of its ridgeline cliffs over Messenia was nothing short of breathtaking.
In the distance, Poseidon's churning seas crashed against the shore, fronted by a vast circular array of the Hero's Grove.
And stretching out to their feet below was a vast plain so captivating it drew the eye like a brushstroke on canvas, even without flames of war.
That wasn't all.
"Everyone's keeping up pretty well."
The two rising stars trailing far below without falling behind, even after I'd sprinted at full speed, only deepened my satisfaction.
Heracles, who didn't break a sweat despite his reckless aura spam, was one thing.
But Atalanta matching him stride for stride, demonstrating flawless lightness skill—that forced me to drastically revise my estimates of Greek heroes' limits, informed by my time in Phesacaine.
For her to stand toe-to-toe with history's great legends after merely grasping basic external arts and stealing a glimpse of enlightenment.
How was this even possible?
"If beauty is a divine blessing, does it influence not just appearance, but overall potential as well?"
All who beheld Atalanta's beauty unanimously credited Aphrodite's favor.
Even Chiron and Karyklo had praised her latent power as emerging from that very allure.
If she'd reached the pinnacle so swiftly under my demonic arts and enlightenment guidance, where might her potential stretch if I seriously imparted inner arts—potential that was still tantalizingly ambiguous?
"Interesting. Very interesting."
The divine arts crafted to reenact myths, amid an era where those myths lived and breathed among gods and heroes.
These beings provided endless stimulation, broadening new possibilities and horizons for me daily.
"We'll explore that thoroughly on the return trip."
-Caw!
As I smirked at the two heroes nearing the top, the familiar I sent off at the start returned, perching on my shoulder.
Transforming into a spirit demon the moment it landed, it seeped into my ears and nose, relaying everything it had seen in vivid detail.
"...Hmm, ahead lies a valley, then plains, and a city beyond. But checkpoints line every pass, with armies garrisoned."
Unfurling the map Chiron had prepared before departure, our destination city appeared to be Tegea.
Atalanta's homeland—the capital of Arcadia, the polis of Tegea.
Yet every route from Messenia to Tegea bristled with checkpoints, cavalry mustered at the ready to charge through at a moment's notice.
In an era when horses were precious, to field entire armies of cavalry. Even fallen under divine curse, it was the might one expected from prosperous Arcadia, famed as a paradise.
"Old King Iasos is getting antsy."
Currently, Atalanta and Arcadia's king were bound in an unresolved grudge.
Buoyed by the ambitions I'd instilled, she'd recruited even Eireneia and her sisters—whom she'd once snarled at like mortal foes—forming an army to reclaim the Arcadian throne.
In contrast, Iasos's power waned daily over his sin of abandoning his daughter.
To counter it, he pestered Chiron endlessly, and when Atalanta declared her campaign, he grew terrified that the warrior now revered even by gods might come to seize his crown.
According to her, after witnessing her feats in the Hero's Great War, Iasos sent missives daily, trembling and begging forgiveness.
Yet his insistence she come to Arcadia to talk revealed his true aim: detain her somehow to cling to his throne. Atalanta had spat her disgust at the man.
To reach Corinth, our path had to cross Arcadia—no alternatives.
I didn't mind once matters were settled, but getting tangled up now, with time of the essence, was the last thing I wanted.
Yet the checkpoints were densely placed, mages and scouts enveloping the Taygetus front in ironclad vigilance.
Attempting to force through Arcadia would surely draw their pursuit, no matter how stealthily we moved.
"Ugh... Could just bulldoze every bastard who gets in the way."
These local kingdoms barely spanned a mid-tier murim sect's turf, and even with their superior average warriors, no army here could rival the Imperial Guard.
In this era of warlords masquerading as kings, their forces posed no real obstacle to our group's caliber.
But the issue was that the foe was my treasured disciple's—my lover's, whom I'd embraced responsibility for—sworn enemy and conquest target.
Forcing through by strength might one day hinder Atalanta's rule.
In my haste to depart, I'd overlooked this unexpected snag.
"Phew! I was fastest!"
"Grr... And you call that fair, just spamming aura like a brute?!"
As I pondered routes this way and that, the pair arrived at the summit, bickering behind me.
They looked bursting with energy...
"Then let's just go fast."
I rolled up the map, pocketed it briskly, turned to the two still fresh after scaling sheer cliffs, and declared my decision.