The Goddess of Betrayal (7)
Ishtar had been born beautiful. She'd known that since she was young. Compared to any woman in the village, she stood out, and men wilted in her presence. She draped herself in envious and admiring stares like a fine dress, enjoying a carefree childhood.
But the village held no man worthy of her eye. In crude terms, she stayed single forever. Be it a merchant who'd struck it rich, a general, or a noble—she waited for a match fitting her beauty.
So living easy off her looks became her goal.
"Oh! A beauty like this wasting away in some backwater village. A true pearl in the mud."
Opportunity finally knocked. A noble's son, come to collect taxes, spotted her and offered to take her to the capital.
"Your name's Ishtar? I'm the son of Count Donquest. Accept my proposal."
Her heart raced as the carriage rolled toward the city. She thought her real life was finally beginning.
Until her prospective groom uttered words that shattered her hopes.
"I'm just the second son, no claim to the title, but I'm thinking of starting a small business. With you by my side, I know we can make it work."
Business? No succession rights? That was when she first learned noble titles passed only to the eldest son.
Ishtar had zero interest in helping with some shop and scraping by to raise their station bit by bit. She decided to trade up husbands—not for some lowly merchant type, but the real Count Donquest himself.
It wasn't hard. The old noble lost his mind over the stunning maiden's interest and immediately turned his sword on his own son.
"Ishtar is my wife! She'll be the Countess Donquest!"
"Father! What nonsense is this? Stealing your own son's bride! Ishtar! Say something!"
Ishtar bowed her head, feigning innocence, and because of her, the count's subjects were dragged into the world's most pointless war, losing their lives.
For humanity, under threat from the demon king's army, it was a bitter loss.
In the end, just as everyone expected, Ishtar became no one's wife. Branded the cause of the war, she was hauled into court.
People pitied the innocent woman, thrust into tragedy solely for her beauty.
But those in the know had long seen through her. Every time a new suitor appeared, she'd chase a man with even stronger backing, fanning the flames of war.
They whispered that even Count Donquest hadn't satisfied her—she'd kicked him to the curb, then aimed for a duchess spot, only for the emperor to intervene personally after the duchess, with her imperial ties, denounced her.
Rumors even swirled that Ishtar secretly relished watching men slaughter each other over her.
Of course, in public, she always wept like a tragic heroine, so most folks pitied her.
The "Poor Ishtar" tale elevated her to goddess status.
A goddess embodied humanity's collective wishes. Not even the emperor could rival her authority.
"Emperor... as a goddess, I have a request."
"Yes, Goddess. Speak."
"To defeat the demon king, we need a hero expedition. That'll take some funds..."
"Of course. You're asking for budget support."
"Glad you catch on. This is for all humanity."
"Understood. How much...?"
"Around 100 million silling, I suppose."
"100 million...!!!!"
In her first audience as a goddess, Ishtar dropped a staggering sum. 100 million silling matched three years' budget for the Emperor Empire, the sole nation on the Western Continent.
"With people starving to death from the demon army's rampage, 100 million feels a bit..."
"That's why I'm saying I'll wipe out the demon army for you?"
"Even so, 100 million could feed millions of subjects. What exactly do you plan to—"
"Your attitude's getting weird. You think the money's too much, right?"
"I'd sponsor some, naturally, but 100 million is nearly the entire imperial treasury."
Ishtar knew that full well. That's precisely why she'd named the figure.
"So, no? Got it..."
"Thank you for understanding, Goddess..."
"The Emperor of the Emperor Empire refused aid to the goddess fighting the demon army. In other words... you're colluding with the demons. That how I see it."
"Wh-what? No, Goddess..."
"That's what I'll tell the people."
To a populace worn ragged by endless war, the goddess was a beacon of hope. Her word was gospel; they'd swallow anything she said.
Once she stamped him "one of the demon king's," it was over. Social execution at minimum, crucifixion and family pyre at worst.
Even an emperor wasn't exempt. Nobles and soldiers would revolt on the spot.
"W-wait a moment, Goddess!"
"What is it? Faith lacking, Your Majesty?"
"I'll give it! 100 million silling!"
"Oh? Changed your mind? Finally getting it."
"Yes, of course. It's for the hero expedition against the demon army—must fund it fully. Absolutely."
Watching the emperor—who'd once boasted "No one can marry Ishtar," blocking her path—cower like a rat filled her with sweet revenge. Plus, she pocketed 100 million silling.
"What does the goddess even need 100 million for...? 100 thousand's plenty for an expedition..."
In a world where even the priciest weapons topped 10 thousand silling, it was a bottomless well of wealth.
"But if she properly defeats the demon king... Yeah. Money's not the issue."
The emperor weathered massive backlash from rivals over the drained coffers but clung to faint hope in Ishtar.
Until he saw the "hero" she'd brought from a planet called Earth. His energy drained away.
"Goddess... that's the hero?"
"Yes. I sense the hero's aura from him."
"I've never fought once."
"It's fine. Trust me. Trust your potential."
Trust what? The guy looked like a freeloading monk. A pretty boy you could mistake for a girl, but no fighter. Good for fucking, maybe.
"What were your criteria for picking a hero, Goddess...?"
"Hm? Dissatisfied, Emperor? Need intel to sell to the demon army?"
"N-no! I won't question! All to you!"
With the goddess like that, no more prying. Even rumors of her and the hero haunting fancy inns, restaurants, and taverns went unchallenged. Had to believe her line about teaching otherworldly culture.
Her jewels piled up, but "tools for magic" shut down objections. She was the ultimate authority on ancient magic, after all.
"When's this hero expedition launching...?"
"Demon army grows stronger by the day."
"What're the hero and goddess even doing?"
But as years dragged with no results, public grumbling swelled.
Ten years, twenty passed. Only when the pretty boy turned into a middle-aged uncle did the expedition finally form, clashing with the demon army.
Finally! Hero advances at last. Demons routed soon...
The people's hopes lasted moments. The hero died shortly after.
"Kyaaaak! Hero! Hero! Sniff... To die like this, after decades training to protect humanity...! Hic! Uuuh! I'll carry on your will, I, Ishtar!"
Watching Ishtar wail mournfully over the corpse, people shed their doubts, eyes welling up. She was training. That's why they stayed in the capital.
The expedition disbanded without victory, but faith solidified.
The shrewd old emperor saw differently.
"Could it be... they only launched now because the hero got old and ugly? Not handsome anymore...? No way. A goddess wouldn't just let him die like trash."
The "grieving" goddess soon fetched a new hero—another young, handsome pretty boy far from battle-hardened.
Trembling in fear, the emperor funded again, wasting away in torment and guilt until he croaked.
50,000 years followed. Countless heroes passed through Ishtar's side.
Pattern: Summoned as teens, perished past thirty.
Demons were fierce; dying in battle raised no brows.
Heroes adored the eternally beautiful, lavishly equipped goddess but never wed. They aged and withered in twenty years against her timeless allure.
Occasional suspicions—that Ishtar deliberately sent uglying heroes to die—surfaced, only for the whisperers to be branded heretics and purged. She etched herself as the pure goddess in hearts.
Among myriad heroes, the final two... Hayato and Kim Hoyoung... were special. Unforgettable.
In the Goddess Garden, she passed time reminiscing.
"Hayato... I wanted to come here with you. If only you'd been a bit more faithful."
Closing her eyes, she saw Hayato's bisected neck. If not for consorting with Lilith...
What she couldn't forgive most: a hero bedding another woman. Secretly, beheading him thrilled her.
From the moment she caught him rutting Lilith like beasts on the mountainside, she'd craved his death.
"Kim Hoyoung exceeded every expectation. Where'd that monster come from? Thanks to him, we killed the demon king."
Right. The demon king was dead. As the aggregate wish to erase him, her sense of duty was ironclad. She'd dragged her feet a bit, but slaying him was genuine.
Mission done, no regrets... save one lingering attachment.
"Over a hundred heroes I've chosen. Only Kim Hoyoung never loved me. How could he resist someone as beautiful as me?"
She couldn't toy with his heart. That gnawed at her.
"But this place has no entrance or exit, no day or night. Kinda lonely..."
The thrill of triumph faded, leaving silence to creep in. Achievement highs gone, she ached with solitude—even Lilith Valentine showing up would be welcome.
—Then, someone entered the Goddess Garden. Ishtar gasped, dropping her teacup in shock.