The Divine Craftsman Hephaestus
The Divine Craftsman, Hephaestus.
Perhaps he is the protagonist of the most tumultuous life story among all the gods of Greek mythology.
He is the only one among the great gods of Olympus who lives not on Olympus, but on a remote island on Earth. According to one legend, he was born of Hera alone, who grew weary of Zeus’s habit of bedding other goddesses to sire gods and heroes. Disgusted by his ugly appearance, she supposedly cast him down to the earth. However, Chiron refuted this and quietly revealed the truth to us: in the early days of Olympus, when Hera was still fiery, Hephaestus took her side during an argument with Zeus, and in his rage, Zeus struck him down to the earth, leaving him with the limp he has today.
Regardless, the fallen Hephaestus landed on the island of Lemnos. There, he was raised by the Sintians and Thetis, whom they served. He learned the art of metallurgy and ascended to become the god of blacksmiths. His skills were so extraordinary that the father who had discarded him eventually called him back to Olympus. Such is the life journey of Hephaestus, the blacksmith of the gods.
Yet, his life remained far from peaceful. His desired marriage to Athena never came to pass, and instead, through his father’s matchmaking, he took the goddess of beauty, Aphrodite, as his wife. But that wife ended up having an affair with his own brother, rolling around in his bed. Tired of a father he couldn't stand and brothers who had been showered with affection since birth—unlike himself—the true, legitimate heir of Olympus chose to descend to the earth despite his status, living alone and running his own workshop.
"...When did you get so close to Hephaestus?"
"We both lived with the same pain. Whenever he came out for an excursion, we would share a drink."
Antaios, who now served me almost like a secretary, relayed the stories of Hephaestus to me. Thanks to him, I was able to design another move to aim at Olympus.
"Well, even if it weren't for that, he was someone I wanted to get to know if the opportunity arose."
A Shin-jang (Divine Craftsman). A blacksmith with god-like prowess. To martial artists who value their weapons more than their own wives, he was nothing short of an idol. In the Murim of the Central Plains, if one were to name the greatest smiths, they would point to Ou Yezi, who forged the five divine swords by the order of the King of Yue, and Mo Ye, who forged the three divine swords alongside Ou Yezi by the order of the King of Chu.
In fact, I had already laid my hands on Tanlu, said to have been offered to King Zhao of Chu among the five divine swords, and Longyuan and Tai'e, two of the three divine swords once possessed by Xiang Yu. The source? None other than the main house of the Namgung Clan, Changcheonseong, which I had visited in a dream last night. The former Sword Emperor, perhaps having gone mad from being cornered, had come charging out with Longyuan and Tai'e in his hands and Tanlu clamped in his teeth. The youngest of the Four Heavenly Kings, the only swordsman among them, had been thrilled at the chance to finally determine who was the greatest swordsman in the Central Plains, only to be left speechless by that grotesque sight. And I, for one, had been stunned because I never expected to actually see the legendary "three-sword style."
Yet, even amidst the former Sword Emperor's bizarre appearance, what left me in awe was the existence of the divine swords forged by a Shin-jang. Tanlu, which only allows its power to be wielded by a monarch it recognizes, flashed with that legendary blue aura as it unleashed the Namgung Clan's ultimate techniques. Longyuan and Tai'e pushed back the Four Heavenly Kings with such valor that it felt as if I were witnessing the reincarnation of the Overlord Xiang Yu. And didn't we all gasp in disbelief when Tanlu resisted the youngest's hand even after the Sword Emperor had died?
If the works of Ou Yezi and Mo Ye, hailed as Shin-jang, were like that, what would the works of a blacksmith god—a Shin-jang in the truest sense—be like?
"This way."
"Hoo... Right."
"Why are you so tense?"
"How could I not be? A martial artist is going to meet a Shin-jang."
By now, I felt I could find my way even without Antaios guiding me. It was only natural, as the closer I got, the more the scorching heat clung to my lungs.
"That's right, Hephaestus is also a god of fire."
But not just any fire. It was the fire of Typhon, whom Zeus himself had buried beneath a mountain; a fire that covers rivers and boils the seas—a fire that is not merely fire. Hephaestus is the god of flames who commands molten lava, and it is said his power made even Ares humble himself. No, the very fact that he had infused a spirit of flame into that pathetic club to make it function as a divine artifact proved that his power was on a different dimension from human craftsmanship.
"It's certain, as I heard it from Ares himself."
"Hmm, so that's the story... Anyway, will you be going the rest of the way alone?"
"Huh? What about you?"
"We aren't serving only one god now, are we?"
"...Aha."
I couldn't help but grin at the sight of Antaios bowing his head and smiling deviously.
"In any case, Hephaestus doesn't have a good relationship with the gods of Olympus. Especially Apollo, who ascended to the throne of the constellations on his father's coattails—he likes him even less. Still, you never know... shouldn't we be well-prepared?"
"A meticulous, vigilant general. My luck with subordinates is truly overflowing."
"You are too kind. Is there any order you wish to give?"
"Hmm... wait a moment."
This... if played right, couldn't this lead to a very interesting picture?
"Hey Antaios, how about this?"
"Hmm? Have you come up with a strategy?"
A slight gamble flashed through my mind. But even if it turned out to be a bad move, the blow to me wouldn't be that great. And if it worked well, I would hold yet another card to keep Olympus—or more accurately, Zeus—in check.
"...What do you think?"
"Hmm... it is a bit dangerous. But."
"It's worth a try."
"Heh heh heh..."
"Kik kik kik..."
The blue giant and the pitch-black demon laughed wickedly, confirmed our intentions, and decided to put it into action immediately.
"Then I shall go prepare."
"I will send the signal. I'm counting on you."
As I watched Antaios walk away with a hearty laugh, I chuckled, reminded of a certain woodcutter from the past who had been just as sly and loyal. Just then, beyond the slightly opened door, a man's voice drifted out.
"Hmm. I see, so that's what happened..."
-Chirp! Chirp!
A low, heavy voice that sounded like metal ringing, yet was as tender as if soothing a young child, followed by the chirping of a small bird in response, drifted through the air.
"Yes, yes. So he made this bird's form for you..."
-Chirp!
"I'm glad to hear you had fun thanks to that."
...Damn it.
Corynaeus's Flame. The best friend of Carkinos, whom we called 'Cory' for short. I had completely forgotten about that little guy, and in the meantime, he had scurried off to see his 'dad'!
'Oh boy... am I screwed?'
Whenever a subordinate returns to their original master, and that master happens to be someone quite formidable to me as well, I can't help but look back and wonder if I did anything wrong to the person who returned. Yes, it was like the relationship between a teacher, a student, and a parent.
'Eh, still, I did do things for him, so he wouldn't speak ill of me...'
"Well, what are you doing? You've arrived, so why not come in?"
"...Damn."
A god is indeed a god.
"Then, excuse me."
I slowly opened the door and stepped inside, feeling like a teacher facing a parent-teacher conference.
Meanwhile.
Erytheia, Temple of Apollo, the deepest part of the sanctuary.
-CRACK!
"Kuh-aaack!"
The spine that had been twisted by that powerful fist was forcibly snapped back into place, the internal organs recovered, and the Sun God regained consciousness.
"Ugh... y-you bastard...!"
Golden blood sprayed from the torn muscles and skin as bones and organs were forced back into their proper places, but only one thought consumed Apollo.
Escape.
"Q-quickly. I have to get out of here...!"
Dianes, that cruel and ruthless villain who had breached the protection of Olympus and dragged him all the way here, of all places. And Antaios, the son of Poseidon, who had dared to assault him so mercilessly. Even though he was an immortal god, Apollo trembled just thinking of the two of them after suffering such horrific violence that it made him contemplate death.
"M-my divine power...?"
He tried to teleport to Olympus as quickly as possible, but for some reason, neither his divine power nor his authority responded. The golden divine power that resembled the radiance of the sun, which used to overflow throughout his body, could not be felt at all. Even the infinite power descending from the constellations of Olympus felt his void and tried to fill it, but it was as if something was blocking it, preventing it from reaching Apollo's body.
"W-what is this...!"
It was the first time this had happened since he had taken the reins from Helios thousands of years ago. That a god's spiritual body, which should always be perfect, was starving!?
"T-this is a disaster...!"
Dianes. The power of that mysterious villain was truly formidable. Even more dangerous was the bottomless forbidden knowledge and ambition glimpsed in his eyes! He was currently confined to the body of a demigod, but unlike Bellerophon, who fell due to arrogance, or Perseus, who succumbed to fate, his eyes burned with self-assurance and a haughty arrogance that seemed to look down on everything. And Apollo knew of only one being who possessed such eyes.
'Father Zeus...'
The King of Gods who rules over all the lands, fates, and principles of Greece. Though the difference between the two was as vast as the sun and a torch, Apollo, in his arrogance, saw his father in the figure of Dianes as he entrusted his safety to Antaios and turned away.
'What, what on earth is his true identity...!'
How could he have used mere secret arts, not even authority, to pierce the protection of Olympus and drag a great god of Olympus down to this land, and then even suppress his divine rank to imprison him like this? This was not something that would end with mere humiliation for Apollo. This was treason and a challenge against Olympus. Furthermore, it had even been revealed that he was working hand-in-hand with the son of Poseidon, who was currently at odds with Zeus in Olympus. If he could just inform Olympus of this...
"I-I must get out of here first."
As he stood up, Apollo felt dizzy, a sense of deprivation choking him.
"That it should be me, Apollo, the Sun God, who ends up in such a state..."
He would have his revenge. Hatred and anger burned like a wildfire on his beautiful face, which all people praised. Dianes was already a being who should not exist under the sky of Apollo—no, under the sky of Olympus. He had to escape as soon as possible and inform his father, Zeus, of the current situation before he could threaten him again with some other wicked scheme.
"Crisis is opportunity. A human scholar once said that. Now is that very time!"
Who was he? The Sun God, the pioneer of medicine, the most beautiful musician, and the conductor of the Muses. Was he not Apollo, the representative of the Twelve Olympians?
"I'll dismantle this kind of spell a hundred times over...!"
He gathered the divine power he had barely managed to scrape together, shaping it like a blade, and focused it on Dianes's spell that was still defiling his sanctuary.
"[βέλος!!]"
⟨ Arrow of Light ⟩
-Pang!
It was originally an authority that summoned arrows of bright sunlight that would burn everything in all directions, but Apollo was filled with rage at the manifestation of such pathetic power that couldn't even serve as a torch.
"Kuh... No, this is not the time for this!"
But there was no time to be filled with self-loathing. He had to somehow break Dianes's wicked magic and escape to Olympus...
-Creak!
"Huh?"
"Eek?!"
The one who was a prisoner but was attempting to pick the lock to escape. The one who had opened the prison door to drag that prisoner back in. When the two of them met face-to-face in front of the prison door, what would happen?
"...Let's have a little beating."
"Kuaaaaaaack!"
There was no need for words.