Chapter 63
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Morning Sun and Morning Jog
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After racking my brain in bed, mulling over babies this and divine duties that...
I kept drifting off into bizarre dreams, only to wake up multiple times and fall back asleep.
A toddling baby teaming up with a giant blacksmith for a massive baby bottle empire, blasting the sun and moon with bottle beams before conquering the universe and founding a galactic empire? What the hell kind of dream was that?
Even after waking up, I sat there in a daze, wondering what that dream meant and if my head was okay, nearly missing morning jog time.
-Swaaah...
Gazing at the cool, wave-lapped sea under the still-dim morning sky, a wave of reality hit me—why the hell was I putting myself through this?
Life's just a cycle of overcoming crap and crashing back down, they say. Now I was just shrugging it off as fate and moving on.
"Hey, Heckle."
"Personally, I'd love it if you called me by my real name properly, but what's up?"
Heracles, who was tying his sandal straps beside me, grumbled something and sprang to his feet.
'Damn, he's huge no matter how many times I look.'
I was pretty tall for my age, but Heracles was like a sprout of a great hero—a body that evoked an adult bodybuilder.
"Aren't you tired?"
"Of what?"
"Life."
Honestly, the headaches from those twin light-years-old brats were nothing compared to this guy's bulk.
If he hadn't been born Heracles, his life story was the kind that screamed "cursed by the stars" in terms of fate.
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
Heracles chuckled dismissively at my question, looking down at me.
"Life's life. You take the lion when it charges, handle the goddess's wrath as best you can, and keep going."
His unexpectedly enlightened response left me staring in surprise.
Heracles shrugged lightly and continued.
"I didn't choose to be born with my father's blood, but you think I've got any options besides living as Heracles?"
"Uh... no, probably not."
Heracles was the poster boy for heroes.
From lifting mountains to enduring divine trials, even if he holed up alone in some deep valley, a sealed monster would pop out, he'd slay it, and found a dynasty. That was his fate.
"Exactly. So you just roll with it. No point chasing your tail with questions like you do—it doesn't solve anything and just tires you out."
"...Wise words."
He'd seemed like a musclehead all the way to his brain at first.
But chatting like this revealed a philosophical, well-spoken guy.
No wonder he wasn't just a brute but a great hero etched in myth.
"You don't strike me as someone who doesn't get that. So why ask?"
"Dunno. With orbital strikes possibly raining from the sky anytime, I'm glued to riddles. Guess reality's creeping in."
"Quit with that Hyperborean dialect. I have no idea what you're saying. And our little life chat isn't the point."
"Huh?"
"Look over there."
Heracles pointed to where the Forest of Heroes students gathered in small groups along Poseidon's shore, prepping instead of the ruined Colosseum.
They polished weapons, checked armor, and geared up for the sprint to breakfast.
"Tch, we got too carried away yesterday."
Heracles eyed the hopeful little heroes on the wide beach, their eyes sparkling toward breakfast. He looked seriously displeased.
"Why?"
"Why? You really don't know?"
He looked genuinely puzzled, as if questioning if he'd heard right, but a wicked glint hid in his expression.
"With the front so wide open, some'll slip away from me. I can't catch 'em all!"
"Do you have to catch them?"
"Oh, Dianes, listen up."
I shot back incredulously, but Heracles cleared his throat and launched into a solemn speech.
"Thanks to my hard work, no one's eaten breakfast but me after jogs."
"Right?"
"So now, they watch me chow down, then hustle in the woods or sneak past nymphs and centaurs in the kitchen to snag food."
"Right?"
"In other words, our dear classmates face me as a massive trial, craving breakfast's delights, honing skills or wits to seize it."
"I see?"
"But on this open beach, even as Zeus's son and next great hero, some'll escape for breakfast."
"Right?"
"Then more'll eat, bit by bit?"
"Right?"
"Then breakfast stops being a hard-won reward and becomes ordinary chow."
"Right?"
"Soon no one values it, just daily grub. How disrespectful to Demeter! And they'd miss chances to grow, stuffing lazy bread and wine!"
How terrifying!
Watching Heracles passionately rant his half-baked logic, I summed up my thoughts in one line.
...What the hell is this bullshit?
"Hey, Heckle. Weren't we deep in life's trials five minutes ago? Now you're preaching breakfast's sanctity?"
He was spouting nonsense like we were filming some variety show.
"Ahem, that's how vital breakfast is."
He wagged a finger at me like I was clueless, strutting.
His face was so ridiculous, I just asked outright.
"So what's the real deal?"
"Sick of watching others eat. I want it all."
....
Yeah, that tracked.
No matter how bodybuilder-huge, these guys were still kids by modern standards—plenty of jammin energy left.
"Anyway, Dianes. How about teaming up to give 'em morning trials?"
"We feast amid their envy, they get safe intense battles worth gold, and hone skills craving breakfast."
"Why me?"
"If you join them against me, I might miss breakfast."
"Oh? Bold admission."
Greek heroes prized honor and pride like life itself.
Yet Heracles casually lumped himself with me, no ego bruise.
"Pfft, Athena teaches owl's-eye objectivity above all. And us fighting just lets others feast."
This guy had sharper judgment than expected.
Hell, he even acknowledged foes with magnanimity. No wonder he'd be huge later—that sprout was vibrant.
Or maybe he just hated crowds eating well, brain spinning fast.
"Oh, breakfast's rationed by arrival order."
Meaning more eaters, smaller my slice.
"Haa..."
Boil down his heroic tirade: team up, sabotage them, hog breakfast ourselves.
Utterly moronic idea.
"Let's do it."
"Knew you'd get me!"
Other shiny kids? Nah, solo breakfast? Can't resist that fun.
"Kuhuhuhu."
"Kuhehehe."
Bad dreams last night anyway, perfect warmup for combat class later.
"I'll take the front course. You block runners."
Heracles planned straight melee like always.
But not ideal for hunting this open space.
"Got a plan. Hear me out."
I beckoned; he leaned that massive frame, ear close.
I whispered tactics; he clapped, nodding approval.
"Good call recruiting you."
"Quick Q: today's menu?"
"Karyklo's mom makes kykeon and lamb salad. Her kykeon's so good, a whole pot ain't enough."
Now I'm fired up.
Heracles and I grinned deep, rising as the sun crested the horizon.
"....Huh?"
But in the blazing sun's center, something caught my eye.
Bird? Nah, felt like something else.
Sun's glare made focusing hard...
-Fwoong!
"Oh? This works too?"
Circulating ki to boost sight, divine demon qi synced like sunglasses, enhancing vision.
Despite sun, I spotted the monster flying our way, sun at its back.
"...Damn it."
New trick aside, I couldn't hold back a groan.
A radiant chariot like the sun, pulled by a handsome man hurtling toward us.