Chapter 37
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: An Interesting Fellow
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Under Hera's chilling threat, Hermes forced a stiff smile, and with that, their secret talk between the messenger and the queen ended in silence toward Father.
A thread of unease lingered unavoidably, but with the Queen of the Gods vouching for it so firmly, even Hermes found it hard to push back further.
Yet, as if sensing even that anxiety, Her Majesty sent him off to the treatment center—where all the key figures of this era had gathered—with instructions to pass along greetings to Chiron while he was at it.
"...Sigh."
"Rest easy, Hermes."
"Chiron, it's not that simple... Hoo..."
Running into Chiron right at the treatment center's entrance, Hermes dragged him to a nearby quiet storeroom and spilled every detail of what had just happened.
Chiron swept a hand over his face, his expression hardening in a dizzying mix of shock, but if the Queen of the Gods had commanded it, he had no more words to say.
For one thing, regardless of his bloodline, Dianes was the disciple Chiron had personally brought in, and likely from start to finish, a child guided by Nyx's hand.
Even so, though his bloodline was as extraordinary—shocking, even—as expected, to Chiron's eyes, Dianes was far from a seed of calamity.
Hadn't it been Dianes who led Atalanta back to the bright world, and who stopped Heracles' rampage?
"So, why don't you meet him yourself and judge?"
"Ha, haha... Y-Yeah, that makes sense. That's the right thing to do..."
Comforting Hermes, who had gone pale as if being dragged to Tartarus, Chiron entered the treatment center.
There, Heracles—his face wrapped in bandages—and Atalanta aiming her bow at him.
And between them, Dianes quietly pretending not to notice, greeted them.
"You lot!! Causing a ruckus in a treatment center of all places! What kind of disgrace is this in front of an honored guest?!"
The Hero's Forest was always full of commotion, and Hermes was no stranger to crossing its threshold.
But there were limits.
Hermes quickly switched to a bright smile, but Chiron had a duty to discipline his disciples for such behavior—especially in front of Olympus's messenger.
More than that, it was a chance to clear the room so Hermes could speak with Dianes alone.
"M-Master! Atalanta suddenly drew her bow...!"
"Master Chiron, that's not it!"
"...I tried to stop them."
Heracles and Atalanta protested innocently to Chiron, but the brave young hero and beautiful huntress were soon grabbed by the nape and dragged out by their master.
"....."
"....."
The treatment center, chaotic as if a storm had swept through, fell silent in an instant.
A strange, indescribable silence settled over the room, leaving only the golden-curled messenger of the gods, beautiful in his locks, and the striking black-haired young hero.
"Uh... Hello?"
"Ha, haha... H-Hello?"
How to handle this mood.
The gods' trickster, Olympus's jester.
Hermes felt cold sweat trickling down his back, his facial muscles cramping as they stiffened.
At a glance, he was a truly beautiful boy, this young hero.
Soft black hair flowing like the night sky, a delicate face that could pass for a girl's if dressed up—had Hermes not known his origins, he might have suspected him to be Aphrodite's child.
'Brother Apollo would've thrown a fit if he saw him.'
Thinking of his half-brother, holed up in his temple strumming the lyre endlessly since losing his lover to misfortune, Hermes shrugged.
Either way, he was Olympus's proud messenger.
One who had witnessed Typhon’s end, no less—and thus bore the responsibility to discern if this child would be Olympus's blessing or curse.
Steeling himself, Hermes opened with what he called his "disarming smile."
"So, you're the new arrival, Dianes?"
"Greetings to the Messenger of the Gods, the swiftest of them all. I am Dianes, entrusted to the Hero's Forest."
Dianes bowed calmly and stood a few steps away, meeting Hermes's eyes squarely.
Even without that bloodline, he was no ordinary child.
Young as he was, whatever his birth, his obsidian-black eyes held steady before a god.
Come to think of it, how did one even rank his lineage?
'If he's Nyx's direct descendant, his standing surpasses even Father's... But looking at him, it's clear.
This child isn't a god in disguise or bound by flesh. He's a true human.'
To be precise, a demigod with thick divine blood?
Either way, the ancient mother of night had clearly shaped and sent him to this Greek soil as a human.
'But it's strange...'
Seeing him up close like this, Hermes understood why Hera had urged a personal meeting.
Hermes's divine domain was protector of travelers and pilgrims.
But after Pandora's calamity, the newly forged humans turned wicked, and travelers became thieves and conmen—yet Hermes welcomed his worshippers with a smile.
Still, he remained guardian of travelers, forever wandering the world himself.
When Hermes met those pitch-black, obsidian eyes.
His divine intuition whispered: this child before him was a wanderer from farther away than any traveler Hermes had ever seen.
Even Hermes, shod in Talaria, couldn't match his journey.
"Hmm, mind if I sit for a bit?"
"Ah, I've been rude before a guest. My apologies."
As Dianes offered him a seat, curiosity seeped into the gaps of Hermes's wariness.
By all accounts: he'd seen through Artemis on first sight; the young hero so praised by Ares and Poseidon; a descendant of the Protogenoi after centuries.
And his intuition whispered: a traveler from a distance even Hermes couldn't fathom, arriving on this Greek land.
'How is that even possible?'
Of course, questioning the impossible with the primordial ones was pointless.
Yet how could a child's eyes reveal the weariness of such an endless journey?
Hermes's curiosity burned too fiercely to ignore.
Dianes, playing host, set fruit and steaming green liquid before him.
"...What's this?"
"Ah, it's called tea from my homeland. Yesterday, chatting with Asclepius, I spotted familiar herbs and thought I'd try making some."
Homeland!
Hermes caught the fleeting wistfulness on Dianes's fine features at the word.
By his knowledge, Pasos Island was his birthplace.
But Hermes, who had scoured Pasos recently, knew no such custom of brewing herbs in hot water there.
In other words, this herbal infusion hailed from the distant culture in his memories!
"I never heard Pasos had a custom of serving brewed herbs."
Hermes sipped from the cup with a playful smile, and Dianes, sitting across, brought his own to his lips, chuckling as he met his gaze.
"Because it's from my real homeland."
"Oh... my."
He'd tested for a reaction, only to reveal himself instead?
Those obsidian eyes had been observing him—Hermes could only smile wryly.
"Looks like you've done some digging on me... Why not just ask outright?"
Dianes's bold, confident—yet not rude—invitation only amplified Hermes's amusement.
Humans before gods fell into three types.
The devotee too awed and fearful to lift their head.
The thug who defies gods with chin held high.
The hero who bows just enough amid complaints.
But this black-haired boy was a new breed, outside those three.
You are you, I am me—facing gods as an equal, a nascent deity.
Hermes now saw why Ares and Poseidon took to him.
He respected him, even held genuine fondness and esteem.
He knew the gods' power and renown, respected it.
But that was that—from his treatment of Artemis and now Hermes, cross his boundaries, and you'd pay dearly.
Considering his bloodline, even Artemis's shoulder wound was a light price for overstepping.
"Fitting for the hero who left Artemis groaning. Quite the nerve."
"Ah, is that goddess still hurting? If it's no trouble, could you check on her later?"
"Heh heh heh. Of course."
And he had wit, too.
Hermes's mind cleared of wariness, filling instead with delight at this new conversationalist and the unknown world he hinted at.