Chapter 92
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: The Queen's Temptation?
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I didn't have any particular tastes when it came to holding women.
A moment of pleasure, a political stance, or comfort for a pitiful devotee.
To me, a night with a woman was just about that much.
Still, there were plenty of steamy, stimulating tales—like the boiling impulses shared with a beautiful female martial artist or the story of giving that crazy doctor a thorough all-night lesson.
Those were tales that made me, as a male, quite proud. But that was that.
Anyway, I wasn't so obsessed with women that I'd covet another man's wife, nor did I push away every woman who came my way.
Sure, I had my urges, but I channeled them fully into my conquests.
But even for someone like me, if my heart hadn't stirred at this seductive goddess's temptation, Nemesis noona would have come after me with a sword, calling it a huge lie.
"Why the long face? Your cheeks seem a bit flushed."
"Haha... With such a beautiful goddess before me, even a statue would blush."
"Always honey on your tongue. Every word is sweeter than candied fruit."
As she said this, Hera lay comfortably sprawled on the clouds, flashing me a provocative smile. For a moment, it felt like a dizzying dream.
There are reasons married women are married women. They have a deep allure that unripe young girls lack.
I was starting to understand a bit the married woman fetish theory that the Mad Wind Shredding Horn Spear guy had preached endlessly during training.
"As you know, just like your Night Mother's handiwork, you're breathtakingly beautiful. Dressed up nicely, you could even serve as my handmaiden."
Was she serious?
It was hard to tell if she meant it or was joking.
Suddenly, tales of passionate daytime romances between noble ladies and young squires from some storyteller uncle came to mind. I decided to lightly change the mood.
"You will provide housing for commuting, right?"
"Hohoho! That's why Ares and Hermes treasure you. No fear of gods, no excessive provocation—just a fun conversationalist to chat with at ease. There are none like you in this era."
Luckily, my joke landed well. Hera's eyes widened at my response, then she laughed delightedly and stroked my hair.
A rich, mingled scent of pomegranate and poppy filled my nose—elegant yet cozy, tickling it gently.
The noble lady's languid face, suddenly close, wrapped my eyes in mature charm and swamp-like allure.
Whether intentional or not, the valley of her voluptuous form revealed as she lay there, with twilight hair cascading over it, made my hand itch to explore. Sweat beaded as I held it back.
And above all, the soft touch stroking my hair.
It was so tender and affectionate, like a mother's touch I had never known, wrapping my body in an unfamiliar, strange emotion.
"Oh my... Your hair is so silky. Atalanta's is too coarse—it surprised me. If Aphrodite saw your hair, she'd gladly hand over her girdle."
"Th-thank you."
Even Zeus, the king of gods who played around recklessly, had no woman—mortal, nymph, or goddess—who captivated his soul like Hera in their honeymoon days, or so they said.
I could see why, nodding to myself.
"So, your answer? Of course, the reward won't be stingy."
"When the Queen of the Gods herself permits it, there's no reason to humbly refuse an enemy's blade."
"Oh? You understood my words?"
Her starlit eyes widened in surprise again. I responded with a light smile and a small bow.
"Sadly, I hoped it was an offer from the other side. But that would be too greedy."
Anyone seeing us now would say the ripe, elegant noblewoman and the handsome young man were flirting, trading temptations in a thick, sticky atmosphere.
But the opponent was the goddess of marriage and family.
Would such a goddess abandon her divine duty?
This Greece would turn into a nonstop hellscape of love and war dramas.
Besides, glimpsing the playfulness in her eyes and the flow of our words...
I had said dealing with Heracles and the young heroes was 'fun.' Hera asked if facing a goddess would end at mere 'fun.'
By Greek wordplay logic, since handling Zeus-praised young great heroes was just fun...
She was asking how it would feel to face a goddess targeting me.
"When did you catch on?"
"Right away. Though you muddled it a bit. Do you usually enjoy such tricky jokes?"
*Ding!*
I dried my sweaty hands with inner heat, turned back to tune the gold strings, and the queen's amused voice tickled my ears.
"You could have just said so."
Even an earthworm writhes when stepped on, and a man's heart, heated up only to cool abruptly, burns hot.
I decided to squirm a little too.
"If it were any other guy."
"And if it were?"
To the goddess's voice, playful and expectant, I said it straight.
"He'd naturally lose his mind and be rude to you, Goddess."
"What?"
Before indignation mixed with her disbelieving voice, I cut in at the perfect timing and continued.
"Even if it meant falling to Tartarus later. To hold the world's most beautiful goddess, to relive that ecstasy, he'd gladly accept eternal downfall."
It felt a bit bold—worry suddenly hit—but clearly, this beautiful noblewoman had been tempting me moments ago.
For an instant, I too leaned toward seeing it as temptation rather than warning, with a spark of 'what if?' and expectation.
My heart thrashed wildly, urging me to go straight, saying a man who can't recognize a laid table deserves his tool cut off.
But my coldly honed reason over a hundred years shook its head: don't spout nonsense, just enjoy the moment—it's a no-win game anyway.
Damn.
And the world always betrays hopes, dragging reality along.
You learn the pain of dashed expectations and become an adult.
But I'm still a baby.
Waaah, I'm Baby Heavenly Demon.
"Nectar packs a punch."
*Ding!*
Where the hell does this stream of consciousness run off to if I let it loose?
The sudden nonsense brought self-loathing. I irritably plucked the perfectly tuned strings.
However, while I spouted nonsense, drowned in self-pity, and tormented the strings...
The goddess, hearing my retort, stayed silent.
'Am I screwed?'
It wasn't the best joke for the guardian goddess of home and marriage, but this was Greece, her domain.
I thought I'd land a cheeky jab and move on.
But the silent, piercing gaze from behind started making me uneasy.
"Um, Goddess?"
Even as the top dog of the Central Plains where Confucian scholars and Public Enemy Silence lived, dropping flirty lines on a wise elder—age belied by youthful looks...
Present wisdom hit. I couldn't lift my head; wanted to splash water on my face.
Worried the Queen of Gods might invoke Confucian propriety and roast Heavenly Demon today,
I cautiously turned to meet her eyes.
"...."
"...."
Thankfully, she didn't seem about to turn me into Heavenly Demon roast or a frog.
Just propping her chin on the fluffy clouds, staring at me intently with unreadable eyes.
....Honestly, this was scarier.
Not laughing merrily like before, nor exploding in rage.
Those beautiful eyes, drawing you in, fixed motionless on me—it was chilling.
"...You joke well too."
Thankfully, Hera, who had stared expressionlessly, soon chuckled it off. I swallowed dryly inside and smiled back.
"Ha, hahaha... So the goddess targeting me must be the one who ditched the moon chariot and is hospitalized now?"
"Right. Despite my stern warning, she ground her teeth, vowing to hurl you into hell."
As expected. If a goddess was after me, it'd be those crazy twin sisters.
I silently thanked Gwangnyeon for smoothing over this awkward spot.
Even if we meet later, I'll spare your life.
"Right after emerging from Apollo's temple, she rushed crying to her father, begging."
Hermes reported to Hera:
Artemis, clutching her torn hunting garb and broken arrows from Hera's blows, collapsed at Zeus's feet, weeping.
"Wow, showmanship... She'd make a great theater actress."
With her personality, she could fix wounds and clothes anytime.
She fully armored up to whine to Daddy on purpose.
"Think that's all? Hermes relayed..."
Daring to touch and bloody the body of a pure virgin who earned a vow from Father.
She vowed to punish the man herself, but sparing him death out of regard for Father's feelings—grant her that right.
"Sheesh, who’s telling whom to pay the price."
"With indulgent parents and a brother cleaning up messes, she can't tell heaven from earth. Even daring to raise her voice at me—how pitiable."
Yet her cherished daughter's pitiful state stirred Zeus's pointless paternal love.
In the end, after endless laws and divine duty interpretations, Artemis got one permission.
"Permission?"
"Yes. Like Nemesis, Eris, and Ares with young heroes, permission to enact her divine duty once outside sanctuary."
....In the end.
Like countless myths and soap operas on this Greek land, this incident wraps up thus.
Zeus was the bastard all along.