Chapter 201
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 201
Chapter Title: Humans and Demigods
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They slipped in quietly, unnoticed by anyone, but when it was time to leave, they strode out boldly on two feet, throwing open the doors.
That was the essence of Heavenly Demon-style guerrilla warfare(?).
It was the ultimate act of unrestrained chaos, reserved only for those warriors who had reached the realm where everything around them scattered like sheep before a wolf.
Roughly calculating, that meant about 150 of Iasos's royal guards and one prominent high building that caught my eye.
I held back on spilling too much blood, just in case—after all, if I'd openly drawn it, who knew what complaints might come from those watching from above, and the backlash was unpredictable.
"That building I blew away... it wasn't some temple or shrine, was it?"
Anything else I could handle, but if word got out that I'd wrecked a temple, it'd be a hassle with claims pouring in.
"Hey, what was that building that just flew off?"
"Guh... guh..."!
Iasos, red-faced and sputtering like mad...
Staring at the building next to it that had collapsed in a spectacular heap like something out of an ancient disaster flick, the king had gone pale as a ghost and couldn't even answer my question.
"Well, judging by his reaction, it doesn't seem like it was that important."
If it'd been a shrine or temple, he'd be foaming at the mouth by now.
He'd have turned into a summoner for the gods, cursing up a storm.
"This place is really something else. The gods and humans haven't been around that long, maybe? Their reactions seem all over the place at first, but then oddly straightforward."
Back when Nangong Se barged in and smashed three or four stars there, laughing all the while, the sword saint clan head at the time hurled every curse under the sun.
Still, I figured in a land where gods breathed the same air, clashed with humans, and a king stood tall among them, he'd show some real spirit.
As I sat on the railing, chin in hand, Iasos—looking like he might keel over any second—finally asked me,
"A-Are you going to kill me...?"
"And if I am?"
When fear pushes someone to the brink, their face drains from blue to white to an ashen gray.
I couldn't help but chuckle—same as in the martial world.
Somehow taking that laugh the wrong way, the old Iasos staggered to his feet, facing me shakily.
"Wh-What do you want? Wh-Why carry out such reckless madness!"
"Look at this guy. Still got some pride left in that head of yours?"
Kings were always like this.
Self-proclaimed sword kings and fist emperors stood tall to the bitter end, only to end up as corpses by my hand.
Call it Greece's paradise all you want—it was like a mid-tier sect in the martial world, and seeing its king cling to pride like this was downright amusing.
"If it were up to me, I'd lop off that head right now and hang it in the town square..."
"...!"
"But unfortunately, you're not mine to finish."
The one to deal with this old tyrant wasn't me—it was Atalanta.
Whether she took the throne for the royal legitimacy or dropped his head for past grudges.
That finale was hers to claim.
My role here was just to spice things up, nothing more.
Besides, I couldn't hog all the fun.
Our crew and Atalanta's had suffered plenty—time to give them a shot at fame outside.
"Well then, watch yourself from here on out."
With a bright smile and a parting wave, I turned my back on Iasos and strolled out of the grand hall.
Flawless white marble steps on either side, nameless statues gazing down from the vast hall.
Whether they looked at me, the limp king slumped over there, or the soldiers broken and groaning from a bad master—I couldn't say.
But one thing was certain.
The 150 soldiers perfectly flanking my path, arrayed in stark contrast to the pristine white marble palace, made for a striking tableau.
"This is why we wield power."
Even in the midst of my rampage, the central path under my feet stretched straight through the black mass of soldiers.
It looked like one of those sacred roads reserved for kings or emperors, almost comical, but clearing this path amid the chaos wasn't just for show.
I had no taste for stepping over fallen men or corpses, and hopping around them like a frog would've been utterly uncool.
"Atalanta must've been prepping her speech hard. Went to waste."
The original plan was this:
Peleus gathers evidence of Iasos's corruption and incompetence, Atalanta stirs up the agitated crowds outside into a frenzy to spark internal strife.
We could've toppled Iasos on the spot, but to avoid harming Tegea's people nominally, we demand he step down voluntarily.
Of course, Iasos flies into a rage and resists—probably loosing arrows at Atalanta or threatening her to back off.
She pretends to take a hit and retreats, and we head back to Tegea, then on to Corinth.
"Honestly, it'd be easier to just wipe them out and turn it into a conquest."
But that one word—"monster"—hurled at me earlier.
That single phrase tore up my original sketch, forcing me to draw a new one.
I thought exposing Iasos's misdeeds and stirring the pot would make Tegea's people welcome Atalanta.
Sure on the surface, but deep down?
To them, demigods with divine blood and the monsters that devoured them were equally incomprehensible beings.
'Need a more extreme situation.'
I'd planned for Arcadia to overrun Tegea after we left, with Iasos's tyranny driving the people and soldiers to surrender on their own.
But that natural fear upon seeing us, the "monster" label, and the thousands of eyes staring as I left the palace—they made me rethink it.
Stepping out of the palace through the corpses, I was greeted by Tegea's citizens.
The laborers tasting the wine and jerky we'd looted from the king's stores, the soldiers stationed outside the palace, kids with curious eyes, and women clutching them as they fled.
Naturally, they all feared me—the man emerging leisurely from the shattered palace amid thunderous crashes.
Even the few soldiers who'd formed ranks hesitated, retreating to shield the people.
"Well, even in the Central Plains, they persecuted our sect for our different arts. Let alone if you're born different..."
I didn't need to hear it—I knew.
The instinctive revulsion in their terrified eyes was the same I'd seen in the martial world as a former fiend.
Their fear wasn't just from me wrecking the palace.
Humans naturally reject the alien, and revulsion toward demigods like me—born with a different hue—fueled that fear even more.
If it weren't me, but a few of those gathered soldiers uniting to strike the king and step forward boldly—would they react the same?
'No way.'
One thing I'd overlooked.
I'd underestimated human tribalism, even in this mythic age.
But from here in Arcadia, things would change.
All the soldiers who'd held out were down by our hands, and Iasos—having his life threatened once—would rampage unchecked.
Would Arcadia's people then care about hot or cold rice?
If we saved them from hell on earth, monster or demigod wouldn't matter.
"It'll be harsh, but what can you do."
I'd crossed life and death three times, still questioning if this world even allowed me a foothold.
The demigods in the Hero's Forest couldn't fit with gods or men, huddled at the world's edge nursing festering wounds.
Everyone has their pains and trials—no one escapes the mortal dust to fight endlessly while accounting for the common folk's suffering in every plan.
"Said it grandly, but if it doesn't pan out, just charge straight ahead."
Like I always say, the Heavenly Demon realm is truly convenient.
No matter how tangled things get, a little sweat resets it all.
"...So you're just gonna bail like this?"
"Yup."
"You went in alone and flipped the palace upside down?"
"Yeah."
""Are you insane?!""
I was always the one nagging them, so seeing both raise their voices in disbelief was refreshingly novel.
Especially galloping across the plains at two or three times their usual speed while scolding me—it hit different.
"You vanish at midnight, slip into Tegea palace, then strut out the front door..."
"Dianes, please, I admit I was wrong. Let's live normally, sensibly. Father Zeus! Do something about this lunatic!"
Atalanta clutched her face in dismay, while Heracles yanked at his hair, hopping mad.
"Hey, I didn't even kill the king—why the freakout?"
Even back in my past life, my staff would gape in disbelief when I cleaned house solo, but nothing like this.
Were they worried about some connection between the king and the gods?
"Nah, it'll be fine. Iasos lost the gods' favor ages ago anyway."
His corruption and fall were infamous across Greece.
From the start, with the Olympus authority granted to Chiron, and as a wife-ruiner, even Hera had urged Demeter and Athena to revoke Arcadia's blessings.
"I didn't barge in and rampage for nothing."
In my eyes, Tegea in Arcadia was a massive cauldron.
Brimming with every ingredient, simmering slowly.
Soon, crossing the Taygetus Mountains, my vetted elites and Atalanta's warriors would arrive.
They'd feast grandly on the banquet I'd prepared.
Of course, I'd need to wrap up my final prep first...
"Everyone, ease up—we're leaving Arcadia soon."
The border loomed ahead; cross it, and we'd hit our goal.
Corinth, site of my final trial, was right there.