Chapter 197
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 197
Chapter Title: King Maker
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In the harsh drought, the child cries from hunger, but even the parents are powerless to help and weep alongside.
The soldiers and generals who should protect them are too busy extorting the people, turning their spears and swords against them instead, while the king and his high and low ministers, who should govern and soothe the masses, are preoccupied with stuffing their own bellies and perpetrate the extortion themselves.
This is truly a time of chaos.
The perfect moment for a new hero to rise.
"Hoo... Hee, I'm beat...."
"Kuhahaha! Hero work suits you right down to the ground! Next time, I gotta give it a shot myself!"
"Everyone, good work. It's been ages since I cut loose like this—feels refreshing."
Atalanta was drenched in sweat from rampaging nonstop in the prime of her youth.
Across from her, Heracles sat perched on a boulder, bellowing with laughter.
I gave them both a light smile as I looked around.
It felt like casual chit-chat over water after a light jog.
But the scenery surrounding us wasn't a peaceful park or a crisp athletic field—it was two thousand collapsed bodies, living corpses who had lost consciousness.
"Ughhh...."
"M-Medic..."
"S-Save me..."
"Ptooey, filthy bastards."
Heracles spat in disgust at the soldiers groaning with broken limbs here and there.
"Not even spoils from a glorious war. To think they'd torment and enslave the very people they're supposed to protect!"
"...."
Atalanta's eyes blazed with fury as she glared like she wanted to devour them whole. In the spot she was staring at, Arcadia's commoners—dragged in from various checkpoints—were crammed into cages like ours, raising a clamor.
"Tang Dynasty army, Tang Dynasty army. I've heard plenty, but this is the first time I've seen the Tang army like this..."
Honestly, I'd seen plenty of ugly sights up to now.
But the moment we entered the camp planted smack in the middle of the fastest route to Tegea, my words caught in my throat at the sight of those massive pens.
Of course, the ones locked inside weren't animals—they were humans.
Plain folk snatched from inside and around Tegea, no less.
At the sight of the people wailing in the pens, Atalanta had lost it completely, and Heracles couldn't just stand by injustice either.
We'd lit beacon fires to summon every last scout left in the mountains and swept the bastards aside in a flash. Now we were catching our breath.
Not some enemy nation, but treating their own people to mass slave trading like this.
This was Greece, alright.
A land that always surpassed imagination.
"Aigoo! My daughter!"
"Darling! Are you hurt?!"
"Mom! I'm here!"
"You rascal! Stay put! Rope here, someone!"
"Got it! Tie 'em tight so they can't twitch!"
"Hey, you've got talent. Wanna join our mercenary band?"
The people rescued from the checkpoints trailed behind us, tearfully reuniting with long-lost family.
Meanwhile, armed mercenaries and their followers were busy binding the soldiers.
"If they don't stay put, don't spare the fists! Your safety comes before the well-being of these wicked scum!"
"Women who can move, over here! Plenty are starving—let's boil some porridge quick!"
"Anyone with medical knowledge? We've got wounded!"
And in the midst of it all, darting about and directing operations was a merchant.
Peleus, the man who'd clung to his Hestusias-embossed shoes and wept when Atalanta burst in to save him earlier.
"That guy's handy..."
"Tell me about it. Real useful."
The moment we stormed the main camp and mopped up the soldiers, he'd shown up with his caravan mercenaries in tow. I wondered if he was gunning for a post-rescue mugging.
But after scanning the situation, he dropped to his knees before Atalanta and begged for orders.
Great instincts, sharp eyes, and real talent too—he sorted the ledgers and returned the extorted goods to their owners.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Peleus handled nearly all the cleanup.
"Lady Atalanta! As ordered, we've returned the extorted money and goods to their rightful owners!
The wounded are in the care of our band's doctors and survivors with medical knowledge. The brutal soldiers are all bound and locked in the jail!"
Whether awed by Atalanta's exploits earlier or not, he dashed over every time to report to her.
"A loyal retainer following the hero, through and through."
"You think so? Looks more like an idol's rabid fanboy to me."
"God and fanatic. Kinda similar, huh."
Heracles chimed in, interpreting my words just right by now.
Today's star was Atalanta, so Heracles and I kept a low profile while she handled Peleus's report alone.
But there was one issue: Atalanta was painfully shy with strangers.
Raised in a bear's embrace as a child, she'd never stepped outside Hero's Grove her whole life. Out here conversing with people, she always stiffened up.
Even on rare subjugation missions, Theseus or Jason handled all the outward-facing stuff.
This journey dealing with people—not beasts or monsters—must feel utterly alien to her.
Yet she was braver than anyone in battle. That was the fun part.
"Ah..."
"I-Is there something that doesn't sit well with you?! Sh-Should we hurry the rations?!"
Peleus had followed her orders to the letter, but Atalanta's unrelentingly tense face made him gulp dryly.
"Whew... She's killing me. Look at that face."
"She's not used to dealing with people yet. Can't be helped."
She just wasn't accustomed to strangers talking to her yet. Peleus was terrified at her rigid demeanor.
In the end, I had to step in again.
[Atalanta. Relax. These are the people you'll lead from now on.
Peleus especially seems deeply impressed by you, and he's capable—build a good rapport.
He's your subordinate, so no need to stand on too much ceremony. Just praise him for a job well done for now. For your expression, say it's sorrow for the people's grief.]
"!"
Her eyes lit up at my secret transmission.
Her face stayed stiff, so Peleus and Heracles didn't notice, but she brightened like a drowning man grasping a lifeline. I nearly laughed.
"Ahem. Good work, Peleus, captain. Seeing these suffering folk just pains me—that's all. No need to worry."
"Ahh! May Athena bless this hero! For this Peleus, meeting such a great hero is an honor beyond words!"
He seemed to mean it from the heart, dropping to one knee before the majestic Atalanta and shouting outright.
"Long live Atalanta!!"
Then the others she'd saved behind him knelt and echoed.
-Long live Atalanta!!
-Long live Atalanta!!
-Arcadia's true savior!
-Arcadia's true queen has returned!
Mothers embracing reclaimed children, farmers reuniting with lovers dragged off by soldiers, merchants recovering blood-sweat goods, soldiers jailed for refusing to join the atrocities, wandering mercenaries who'd followed the traders.
All of them were one: the people.
In the arrival of the true queen, the hero to save corrupt, lawless Arcadia, the masses cried out in one voice.
"...."
Before long, Atalanta was basking in the adoration and cheers directed at her.
-Thwack!
Without a word, she raised her fist, igniting her signature crimson aura. The people's cheers swelled even louder.
-Woooaaahhh!!
"The birth of a new queen."
And Atalanta, standing tall amid the roar of the masses, was a painting come to life.
Even Heracles couldn't help but marvel at her grandeur.
"Whoa... I'm jealous."
As I watched the scene, another thought quietly surfaced in me too.
"No telling how things'll go in Corinth, but..."
The setup was perfect, the table fully laid.
Turning it down would be foolish.
[Rise, my wings.]
At my whispered divine command, divine demonic energy rippled over my hand, instantly forming a raven that spread its wings.
[Go.]
-Caw!
The loyal ravens took flight, soaring toward the distant mountains.
They vanished in moments—wouldn't take long to reach Hero's Grove.
"Jason and the crew, Eireneia—they'll love this."
Since ancient times, in eras of hardship, the people have longed for heroes.
Heroes to smash unjust societies and corrupt powers, ushering in peace and prosperity.
But like any humans, expecting the hero-worshipping masses to cheer forever was the mark of a fool.
How many heroes throughout history had been soiled and slain by foolish commoners and greedy nobles?
For a hero to remain a hero unscathed, they needed more than mere goodwill.
"Those recorded as heroes fade like a line in a saga, but those recorded as kings become history, etched eternal."
Had she shrunk from the cheers here, or felt burdened, I'd have reconsidered.
She was already a mighty warrior in this Greece, and could find happiness by my side without a throne.
But I had seen it.
The greed shining in those red eyes amid the roar of countless people.
The thrill of lording over the masses, the blazing ambition.
Above all, the smoldering lust for power and sense of justice glaring toward Tegea confirmed my choice was right.
She would become queen.
I'd witnessed those fiercely glowing emotions amid the cheers for her—they would make her choice reality, her footsteps history, not mere legend.
The queen to oust corrupt Iasos and lead Arcadia to peace amid the people's acclaim.
The protagonist of a new myth that would leave even Olympus's gods speechless.
"Heracles, remember this. Die a hero, or reign as king. The choice is yours too."
"...Y-Yeah."
The fateful choice binding all heroes would surely come to this great one too.
Would he perish vainly as in myth and ascend to Olympus?
Or forge new history along the path I'd shown?
What path would this eternally famed hero of mankind take?
I looked forward to it.