Chapter 28
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Why Is the Sky Always Clear at Times Like This?
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Why is the sky always so clear at times like this?
Ah, in her long new life, was there ever a history more gratifying than this?
From birth to growth, everything had not only twisted Hera's divine deeds, prestige, and dignity—the three pillars—beyond recognition but had smashed them straight into the dirt. Among Zeus's endless bastards, this cursed great hero was one she absolutely had to kill in the most gruesome way possible, from her perspective.
Zeus had even punished her by hanging her at the world's edge just for trying to do away with such a hero...
"How dare you!!"
-Boom!
Forgotten even was the fact that she had slipped out in secret and hidden herself in the clouds. Plants trembled in fear at her divine fury boiling over.
Fortunately, no one below had the luxury to notice.
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
"Uwak! It's flying this way!!"
"Kuek!"
"Brother!!"
"Zetes is down!!"
"What hit him?"
"No idea! He just flew off and slammed into the wall!"
"Shockwave! Don't ever get in a straight line from that mad bastard!"
Every swing of his arm sent rippling shockwaves that cratered the stone walls.
Every stomp shook the earth itself—a monster rampaging without reason.
No one had eyes to notice a few shaking trees.
"...Nngh."
Watching him, she sometimes wondered if Zeus had been right after all. Even so,
she couldn't just let it slide, planning to at least curse him...
"No need for me to lift a finger."
Even to Hera, it was a spine-chilling spectacle of sheer destruction.
At the center, where no bold hero would dare approach, stood that boy.
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
"My ears hurt, you bastard!"
-Crack!
Sometimes blocking head-on like an ancient tree, sometimes swaying endlessly like a reed—the black-haired hero clashing with Heracles.
Hermes had certainly said...
"Dianes, was it?"
Dianes of Pasos.
She'd learned the name by chance, eavesdropping on a private talk between Zeus and Hermes.
During the regular divine assembly, Zeus had boasted of Heracles yet again.
Even Hermes, who would usually grin slyly and crack jokes to lighten the mood, had lowered his beautiful eyes quietly amid the anger and killing intent. It was the night after that assembly ended.
Storming up Olympus's peak, determined to end it once and for all, there Zeus and Hermes were, chatting over a single poem.
Why was the king of gods—so fixated lately on Heracles and women—suddenly excited over a mere poem?
Curiosity piqued, she listened in. The poem's author was Dianes of Pasos, whom her son Ares and Poseidon had praised in unison at recent divine banquets.
Ares had bragged so innocently everywhere that, for once, her wild second son seemed endearing.
And that was not all.
Poseidon, boasting of his young devotee, had leaped into the banquet's center, wielding his divine weapon, the trident Triaina, to demonstrate the boy's spear dedication—shaking Olympus with an earthquake.
And when Hermes passed by and slipped the poem into her hand for her to read.
She understood why Zeus had summoned Hermes personally to boast.
Why Ares and Poseidon—rivaling each other for Olympus's most savage—had praised the boy so.
A poem penned in elegant prose, calm and restrained.
Yet it warmed her heart with Zeus's sacrifice and love—thoughts she had never once considered—offering comfort meant for her.
"Heh, what a cheeky child."
Of course, she hadn't forgiven everything over a few lines of verse.
But beneath the praise for Zeus lay comfort for her, stirring memories of his past affection and love. It cooled her rage just enough for her first untroubled sleep in ages.
Thus, feeling a twinge of gratitude toward this Dianes was only natural.
And seeing a faithful hero not of Zeus's bloodline after so long made it all the more admirable.
-Bang! Bang!
In the colosseum's center, ceaseless explosions raged.
Compared to Zeus's bastard's rampage, Dianes seemed too passive, merely defending and yielding ground.
"That bizarre magic from the start dealt a heavy blow, but..."
Heracles's surging fury seemed to eclipse even that pain, his movements growing fiercer and wilder.
She considered reaching out to aid Dianes but soon withdrew her hand.
"If I use divine power directly in Chiron’s sanctuary, it'll all backfire for sure."
The Heroes' Forest was an absolute sanctuary granted to Chiron in exchange for his divinity when Olympus was founded after victory over Cronus.
No authority could override his forest—not even Zeus could harm a student under Chiron's protection within it.
"Even so, I'd like to give him a small gift..."
Was there no way?
Watching their duel anxiously, her eyes caught a girl standing at the colosseum's edge.
To Hera, she seemed exquisitely lovely, with russet hair tied back.
While all the men fled the colosseum in droves, the girl stomped her feet, unable to tear her eyes from the fight.
"Oh my."
In those eyes sparkled desperate love and worry.
And they followed the sweat-soaked back of Dianes.
"Yes, pure love is the greatest gift of all."
The queen of the gods nodded with a benevolent smile.
At her gesture, clouds veiled her form as she slowly descended.
-Bang! Bang!
"Uwaaaaaah!!"
"That's right—this is what a great hero looks like!"
My heart pounded madly, every nerve screaming in sharp alarm.
Every grazing fist made my bones shriek, every kick crushed my muscles.
With every moment, every breath, I wondered if it might be my last.
A spine-chilling chain of doubts in this ultimate crisis.
This was exactly the sequence of moments I craved.
"Yes, worth channeling all my inner energy into that one strike."
Five Aggregates Plague Art.
The signature martial art of Pawaigu Ma, grandmaster of demonic arts among the Twelve Divine Demons.
Originally from beyond the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, Podalab fused his unique qi cultivation and demonic arts to create this legendary demonic qi technique.
The five aggregates—said even by Buddha to be uncontrollable sources of suffering.
Pawaigu Ma's technique, rooted in them, matched its power and mystery with precise qi control and immense energy drain.
An average first-rate warrior attempting it would twist apart, neither living nor dying.
But I covered my lacking energy with demon-god qi and exquisite control, successfully landing a blow on Heracles.
'It felt a bit excessive, but it went as hoped, so all good.'
What I wanted from Heracles wasn't some greenhorn charging in with pride and arrogance.
The unparalleled martial prodigy countless warriors dreamed of, brimming with immense potential.
A lifelong rival to ring my instincts' alarm at full throttle.
And I succeeded in dragging out the monster slumbering within him using all my energy.
-Crack!
"Grk!"
A massive shock ringing dully in both arms, even though I'd clearly deflected it.
My lips twitched at a strike that could pulp dozens of first-rate masters in one go.
With not a scrap of energy left, relying solely on body techniques and martial skill against a great hero etched eternally in human history.
How could any martial artist not thrill at this?
And feeling each form hone sharper thrilled me even more.
Lost in the joy of my body tempering and arts deepening, I smiled faintly.
Heracles twisted his massive frame, raising clasped hands high like a hammer.
"Dieeee!!"
"Huh?"
Heracles's strike, all power poured in, defense be damned.
Yet even seeing it, my body froze as if bound.
Golden energy cloaking his fist with his roar.
I'd seen that lightning-like aura before.
"No way—why now?"
Artemis.
The crescent moon goddess of our ill-fated first meeting.
The aura she'd unleashed in rage differed in nature from Heracles's power, but they were clearly kin.
"Ah..!"
"Urraaaaaah!!"
Hesitating at this unexpected resurgence, I faltered.
Heracles's hammer plummeted toward my head.
-!!!
An explosion.
Pure explosion swallowed everything.
The air couldn't contain the blast; violent silence devoured all sides, the colosseum shattering under the shockwave.
A terrifying strike evoking missile barrages from my past life's YouTube videos.
-Rumble...
As the aftermath faded.
Left were the half-ruined colosseum crumbling slowly, Heracles collapsed unconscious after expending everything.
And me, barely standing before him, covered in blood.
"...What the hell."
All around lay desolate ruins—how was I unscathed?
-Whiiiing...
Thanks to the demon-god qi rippling like shadows on my arms, humming strangely.
In that crisis, as I steeled for internal injury to draw on my core,
the demon-god qi broke from Ghostless Heart Art's flow, manifesting freely per my will.
I envisioned a sturdy shield against the lightning hammer.
It formed pitch-black shields on my arms, absorbing the shock like a black hole.
Couldn't block it all, so I was bloodied from the impact—but spared broken bones or ruined body.
"This... unexpected profit..."
-Whiii...
The demon-god qi faded with the air's hum.
I collapsed to the ground.
Heracles wasn't the only one who'd given his all.
"Kuh... good, a damn good fight..."
A rare, utterly thrilling fight—no, struggle.
Gains weren't small; above all, that lingering buzz in my brain made me grin despite lungs twisting in agony.
Ah, on days like this, it should pour rain—why is the sky always so clear?
"Kuh, kuhehehe..."
With that idle thought last, I closed my eyes in satisfaction.