Chapter 38
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: A Pretty Good Conversationalist
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In the long history of the Heavenly Demon Cult, spanning ten thousand years, there was one absolute rule if there was any: the law of the jungle, survival of the fittest.
Only the strong would reign supreme, only the strong would dominate. As the ruler of the land of endless wars, Surado, and as the proxy of Asura, one would ascend to become the absolute being who would subjugate the hypocritical orthodox factions that had seized the vast and fertile lands of the Central Plains.
Thus, most cult leaders were masters of powerful martial arts that dominated their era. But among them were some who made you wonder, How on earth did this person become the leader?
A prime example was my master in stealth steps and concealment arts, the Ghost Chariot Divine Thief.
He was infamous as a grand thief who could slip into any place under the heavens, like riding Yama's carriage—whether it was the grand archives of the Nine Great Sects or the secret vaults of the Five Great Families, nowhere was off-limits.
He'd claim he once infiltrated the hidden vaults of the Nine Great Sects and swept away all their treasures.
Or that he sneaked into the bedroom of the Central Plains' number one beauty, the flower of the Nangong Family, and kidnapped her.
Whenever we trained together, he'd spin these outlandish tales that left you questioning whether he was the Demonic Cult leader or just a low-rank member of the Hao Clan.
However, when I meticulously uncovered and opened the hidden vault in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains that he called his graduation gift, his disciple could only be moved—profoundly moved—by that great master's grace.
"So, after disabling the final formation, the moment I opened that door!"
"The moment?"
"...What's the point of talking about it. A golden Buddha statue—no, a divine image—that the secret Buddhist monks from beyond the great mountains hundreds of years ago had brought was staring down at me imposingly! And beneath it, dozens of divine artifacts and mountains of gold and jewels glittering blindingly under the light of the night pearls embedded in the ceiling!"
"Whoa...! Just thinking about it makes my mouth water... I mean, it's fantastical!"
Just as I'd planned.
I quietly smirked and nodded at Hermes, who was excitedly stomping his feet to the Ghost Chariot Divine Thief's tale, exactly as I'd anticipated.
This golden-haired, curly-locked god Hermes had met me head-on.
For a brief moment, a clear flicker of wariness and discomfort crossed his face.
Added to that were his quiet private talk with Chiron before entering and his reaction to the herbal tea I'd casually offered as a test.
Passos was a remote island city in the north, so Hermes's followers rarely stopped by on pilgrimages. The main faiths here revered the war god Ares and the sea god Poseidon.
Yet when I offered tea from the Central Plains—specifically Xinjiang-style herbal tea—his response was that Passos had no such custom?
This quick-footed god had thoroughly investigated me beforehand and, sensing something even I didn't know about myself, had come to test the waters.
I briefly wondered if Artemis's incident where she saw blood on my hands had prompted the king of the gods to send him to monitor or mark me.
But if so, he wouldn't have met me directly; he'd have watched from afar and reported back.
Then Chiron? Well, he was pretty shocked that I matched Heracles.
If Chiron had requested it, that made some sense.
After all, he'd received an ambiguous oracle in a dream and come all the way to distant Passos to fetch me.
If he was close to Hermes, asking for some intel gathering was plausible.
While collecting info at Chiron's request, he'd uncovered some secret about me, approached with caution—what could that secret be?
Information about my blood?
My divine demonic energy, which resembled but opposed the lightning-like power—likely divine might—that Heracles had shown.
And recalling the massive presence beyond the mist that visited me in my dreamlike faint earlier, it was highly unlikely to be an Olympian god, whether mother or father.
Then who?
Who could make this god, laughing so merrily at the tale of the Ghost Chariot Divine Thief I'd spun, wary of someone as weak as me?
That was the purpose of me freely sharing stories from my past life right now.
Even aside from that, honestly, Hermes made for a pretty good conversationalist.
He spoke when it was time to speak, listened properly when it was time to listen, paid close attention, and gave great reactions.
How much I'd suffered under those twelve eternally youthful elders steeped in thousands of years.
Some, like the Mad Wind Divine Spear or Lamenting Ghost Shade, truly showed respectable masterly demeanor.
But most were bored with their tedious life in the Three Rivers of the Underworld, obsessed with being the supreme under heaven and earth, and the moment they saw me, they'd drone on with their old-timer tales from their glory days.
If I'd been a Demonic Cult member—or even just a martial artist—those stories and words would have been precious secrets of the jianghu.
But at the time, I was a pitiful Korean who'd been kidnapped by the grim reaper in charge after she witnessed my utter defeat right before crossing the Three Rivers.
Drawing on my past part-time job experience dealing with cranky customers, I had to listen with all my might until I memorized every boring anecdote.
If I dozed off even a little or lost focus, the cult leader's punch came flying—truly brutal days.
"...And so, I returned with funds to oppose the corrupt leader's clan and divine artifacts to gift to my senior brothers, who would later become the Four Heavenly Kings."
"Whoa! What an epic tale. To think such history unfolded in a land unknown to me.
If the chance arises, I must visit someday."
"Should your wings carry you to that land, tell the million demons dwelling beyond the Hundred Thousand Mountains the names of myself or the Ghost Chariot Divine Thief. They'll treat you with utmost hospitality."
Surprisingly, Hermes seemed to fully believe my tales of the Central Plains martial world.
Compared to this mythological Greece, not only my Korea but even the Central Plains were stories from a distant future.
I'd started by vaguely revealing I was a soul from another world.
I'd worried if this god would buy it, but fortunately, Hermes was thrilled by the otherworldly aspect and perked up his ears.
Naturally, I spun tales of the grand thief who'd looted the entire Central Plains and his hidden vault.
"If it comes to that, I'll do as you say. Someday, when my divine duties lighten a bit."
Like a child excited over an incoming gift, Hermes beamed with joy at the mere thought.
"Yet you take it so lightly that I'm a soul from another world?"
"Why not? It's the deed of the Primordial Night herself—what's impossible about that?"
Bingo.
My efforts in storytelling paid off. Hermes casually dropped the exact answer I wanted to my probing question.
"The Primordial Night?"
Playing dumb, I tilted my head, and Hermes chuckled.
"How about it? Worth spinning those tales of your homeland and the great thief, right?"
Oh dear.
Like petty revenge for my earlier probing, the golden-curled messenger god smirked charmingly.
"For daring to play mind games before a god and for that bizarre, astonishing tale unheard anywhere in the world, I'll grant you one chance."
"A chance?"
"A chance to ask one question of the herald of the gods who knows all there is to know in Greece."
Now it was my turn to be tested.
Grinning slyly as he extended his hand, Hermes intoned dramatically like a skilled actor.
"Hmm..."
"Just ask. The world's most beautiful woman, mountains of gold and jewels rivaling that mysterious thief's vault you spoke of! Delicacies undiscoverable across all Greece and the seas! Anything at all, I'll tell you."
The Twelve Divine Demons, the strongest leaders in Heavenly Demon Cult history.
The Twelve Gods of Olympus ruling this Greece teeming with monsters and heroes.
If the powerful beings who'd lived this long had one thing in common, it was pursuing their own amusement in everything.
Whether things went against their expectations or as planned, starved for stimulation, they sought entertainment even in trifles, delighting in others' reactions.
Look at this pretty god.
Grinning as if he knew exactly what I'd ask, yet those bright eyes scheming how to troll my response!
Well, he was the god born a trickster, who'd declared even to his father, King of the Gods Zeus, that as herald he wouldn't lie—but wouldn't always tell the full truth either.
However, I had no intention of wasting this chance on the question he expected.
"Then I'll ask my question."
"Whoa, hold on. Thought it through? It's just once. I'll mix no lies into that answer, but judging it is solely your burden."
"..."
At a glance, he seemed a concerned god fretting over a brash young hero squandering a precious opportunity, but his eyes read:
'Sweet' 'Jam!'
These damn powerful youthful immortals...
Shaking my head inwardly, I straightened my robes, met his gaze squarely, and nodded.
"Understood. Then I ask you, great herald of Olympus, master of the Caduceus who knows all the world's secrets."
"Yes, I'm listening. Young divine follower."
This hedonistic trickster punk.
Let's see if it's as you think.
"The one who sent you to protect me earlier and to protect Atalanta—who is that person?"