《I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me》 VOLUME 1 (Illustrations) Chapter -1: VOLUME 1 (Illustrations) Nathan Parker: MC Amelia Carter: Teacher Sienna Parker: Older Step sister Siara Parker: Younger Step sister Princess Adelia Cecilia ALL OTHERS ILLUSTRATIONS OF NEXT HAREM WAIFUS: DISCORD LINK: https://discord.gg/XK9V444W Chapter 1: Summoned By The Goddess Chapter 1: Summoned By The Goddess At the age of sixteen, a notion began to crystallize in my mind: life was dreadfully monotonous. Now, before you jump to conclusions, let me assure you that these thoughts did not stem from any dark desire to end my existence prematurely. It was simply the pervasive boredom that had settled over my days like a heavy fog. Each morning, the same routine played out: rise early, trudge off to school, endure the hours of learning, return home in the evening, consume dinner, and then drift off to sleep, only to awaken to the same cycle once more. Yet, what irked me most was the necessity of wearing a "mask" to navigate through the social landscape. You know the one I''m talking about, right? That facade we put on to avoid being labeled a weirdo or, worse yet, a closeted psycho. No? I reckon many of you are donning this mask as we speak, perhaps unaware that it has become a seamless part of your identity. But for me, this awareness had been ingrained since childhood, making the charade all the more wearisome and vexing in my day-to-day existence. Why was it so bothersome? Well, for starters, there were the moral codes drummed into my head by my parents, who had inherited them from their own ancestors, ad infinitum. One of these moral conundrums I yearned to shatter was a notion that must have crossed the mind of every human at some point: the contemplation of eliminating someone who posed a nuisance. Whether it''s someone you despise, merely dislike, or a heinous criminal whose demise you believe would serve the greater good¡ªI entertained such thoughts daily. Take Aiden Fletcher, for instance. The star of the school''s rugby team, Aiden had a knack for getting under my skin without apparent cause. As much as I harbored the urge to retaliate and, dare I say, kill him, the towering stature and physical prowess he possessed deterred me. I couldn''t bear the thought of being humiliated in front of the lovely ladies in my class, so I opted for the safer route of ignoring his provocations. There was also Jason Spencer. The most popular guy of the class, he won the karate championship of his age and is extremely smart and very handsome. I also wanted him dead. He didn''t do anything to me but the fact that he was gathering all the girls around him, and he was more handsome than me who had a regular face, it was ticking me off. I just thought it would be good if he wasn''t existing in the first place. These thoughts of mine are extreme thoughts right? Believe me, you have heard only the tip of the iceberg. The girls and women in general. As a teenager who grew up and matured quickly I quickly met my hard cock. The fact that it was throbbing a lot was for six reasons. Sienna Parker. Siara Parker. Amelia Carter. "Isekai?!" My classmates erupted into a mix of cheers and panic as the gravity of our situation dawned on them. The boys appeared thrilled, their eyes alight with excitement, while the girls seemed utterly bewildered. "Please, everyone, calm down," Jason, our class representative, intervened, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. Then, turning to Khione, he introduced himself, "I am Jason Spencer. It''s a pleasure to meet you, Goddess Khione." "Wait, it''s dangerous, Jason!" Amelia Carter, our teacher, stepped forward hastily, her voice trembling. "Excuse me. I am responsible for them, and I implore you to send us back to our world, please!" Khione shook her head with a hint of bitterness. "I apologize, Heroes. We are not aware of any spell that can return you to your world." "Is this some kind of joke?!" Teacher Amelia was furious, her anger sparking a reaction from the knights standing guard around the Goddess. Instinctively, my classmates and I took a step back, the tension in the air becoming almost suffocating. Amelia''s face drained of color, realization dawning that we were now completely at their mercy. "Samuel, please," Khione''s voice was gentle as she addressed the man in the gleaming white armor, who exuded strength and intimidation. He nodded in response to her request and stepped back. "I apologize. We mean you no harm. The truth is, you all died in your world, which is why we were able to summon you to ours." "What?!" A chorus of disbelief rippled through the group. We... we died? Memories flooded back¡ªI recalled the mundane details of our stupid school trip. We were on the bus... And suddenly. A goddamn truck! Yes, that''s right! A truck out of control crashed into us. It seemed others were piecing together the tragic event as well, some crying out in shock while others collapsed to their knees. "But we have managed to bring you back to life in this world through our spell. And it is within our power to send you back to your world, alive once more," Khione explained, her voice carrying a soothing reassurance. They all gazed at Khione, stunned by her words. "Is that true?" Amelia''s voice trembled with hope. "Yes," Khione replied with a serene smile, her eyes holding a promise of salvation. "Please listen to me." Chapter 2: Skills Awakening! Chapter 2: Skills Awakening! That was a hella long ass explanation from the hot Goddess. But since she was the hottest woman I had ever seen, I listened to her. We were in the Empire of Light. A great Empire which was currently in danger by the Demon Kingdom and they were all dying pathetically so they are counting on us with our super powers to save them and kill the Demon King. Really cliche? yeah. However, it didn''t take a genius to realize that Khione was withholding a great deal from us. "If we work together, we might have a chance to defeat the Demon King and discover a spell capable of sending you back to your world," Khione pleaded, her hands clasped together as if on the brink of tears. "I humbly implore you. Please, help us." A heavy silence descended upon us all. "We will," Jason responded with a cringe-worthy seriousness that made me wince. Too much cringe. I couldn''t bear to watch. I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes, shaking my head in disbelief. "J-Jason!" Teacher Amelia''s objection was clear in her voice. "Ms. Carter, we have no other options. If we wish to uncover the spell that could return us all to Earth, we must seek their assistance and their knowledge. Where else would we go? Besides, this country, our supposed new home, is under mortal threat from the Demon King. We must act for our survival and for theirs!" Jason argued. "Jason... do you even hear yourself? This is dangerous. They are asking you all to go to war!" Amelia persisted. "I know... I know. But if we possess great power, as Ms. Khione claims, then it would be unjust not to use it. With power comes responsibility, doesn''t it, everyone?" Jason turned to the group, seeking their support. I couldn''t bear to watch this shit anymore. Now, I''m pretty sure I ain''t the only one wanting him dead. Some remained silent, uncertain, but others cheered on his words. "I agree with him." The voice that spoke up belonged to a beautiful girl with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, her eyes a striking shade of blue. She was a senior, two years older than us, but she was drawn into our predicament by virtue of being part of the ill-fated trip. Sienna Parker, my elder stepsister. "If we think logically and carefully. This is our only solution. Gaining strength will also raise our chance of survival, Ms. Carter." Sienna added. "I also agree with Jason!" The girl who followed had medium auburn hair tied and blue eyes much like Sienna since she was her blood sister and so my step-sister. No need to say she had a crush on Jason. "I will also follow Jason!" Courtney Turner, another beauty who was part of the cheerleaders group added. She was also very beautiful with her dirty blond hair and brown eyes. And she was also in love with Jason. Oh god, I hate that guy. It''s only looks that count in the end uh?? The girls all followed on by one Jason''s whatever charisma this cringe guy had. "Yeah!" The knights cheered fervently as Aiden stepped down from the altar, a triumphant smirk adorning his face. Khione''s joy was palpable as she called forth the next candidate. It was Jason''s turn, and what followed was nothing short of divine. "WOWWW!" "A rainbow light!" "It''s an SSS-Rank Skill!!!" This guy was clearly blessed by the Gods, even before this moment. But the blessings didn''t stop there. Sienna and Gwen received SS-Rank Skills. Courtney and Siara were granted A-Rank abilities. Aisha obtained an S-Rank Skill. Most of my classmates were bestowed with extraordinary gifts, and the soldiers around us erupted into cheers and jubilation. Then, it was my turn. Please, lady luck. Grant me at least an A-Rank Skill. I lay on the altar, hopeful anticipation coursing through me. But when the light emerged, it was small and brown. I had never seen this particular hue before, so I wondered if it was a unique or special skill. However, the look on Khione''s face told a different story¡ªdisappointment and coldness. "It''s an E-Rank Skill. The lowest of all," she stated flatly. "GAHAHAHAH!!" Aiden''s laughter rang out, quickly joined by nearly the entire class. Luck, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of disappointment, and stepped away from the altar. Let''s check that crap skill anyway. I read the description in my mind and... "Uh?" Chapter 3: Stats And Goddess Chapter 3: Stats And Goddess "To see your stats, you can call your status. Your level along your main skill will be displayed. Use your status point however you want but wisely." Khione said. "Status." I called out to my status. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã [Nathan Parker] Lvl 1 10 10 10 100 10 10 11 SP: 20 Skills: [E-Rank: No-Name???] ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã "Your Main Skill is the very first ability you acquire after the awakening process," Khione explained. "Its rank serves as a marker of your potential, with SSS-Rank standing as the pinnacle. Additional skills can be acquired through training or by using Skill Books, though mastering a new one proves to be quite challenging. The skill''s level is denoted beside its name; the higher the level, the more effective and potent the skill becomes. Your main level is prominently displayed at the top, just below your name. Advancement in levels comes from battling, training, and defeating the various monsters you encounter. Naturally, we''ll assist you in this aspect, ensuring your rapid improvement." Absorbing Khione''s words, I glanced once more at the description of my No-Name skill. It was intriguing. Truthfully, it seemed rather lackluster due to its low success rate, but... "Are you doing well, Nathan?" a gentle voice asked. I pivoted to find my elder step-sister, Sienna Parker, standing nearby. "Oh, uh, somewhat?" I responded with a touch of ambiguity. Sienna and I shared an odd relationship, much like the one with Siara, incidentally. We''d become step-siblings seemingly out of the blue and seldom engaged in conversation. Yet, at least Sienna made an effort, albeit while keeping her distance. I suspect¡ªno, I''m certain¡ªshe caught glimpses of the real me beneath my facade. She possessed sharp eyes. Things were even more strained with Siara, my younger step-sister who, mind you, was barely a few months my junior. She harbored a crush on Jason and engaged in a fierce competition for his attention, vying with all the other girls, including Courtney. I attempted to strike up conversations with her, noting her more approachable demeanor compared to her elder sister''s, but alas, she was firmly fixated on that cringe-inducing 3D protagonist, Jason Spencer so I gave up on making her my girlfriend. There was no way I could compete with Jason except if I did some surgery on my face and changed my speech into cringe-worthy protagonist-like. Yeah, no thanks, I will remain a mob. He was surrounded by girls who seemed to have turned off their brains after getting isekai''d. It often happens in Isekai animes. Just the thought of Sienna''s impressive stats with her SS-Rank Skill made me shudder to consider what Jason''s must be like with his Protagonist Skill and aura. Once again, life''s unfairness hit me like a ton of bricks. Luck certainly played a role, but when luck wasn''t on your side, you had to forge your own. I decided to invest all 20 of my Skill Points into my Luck stats. And it didn''t end there; I could even reallocate points from my other stats to further boost my Luck. "Before we proceed to the palace, we''ve prepared suitable attire for you to be warmly received by the Emperor and the capital''s populace. They''re eagerly awaiting the parade and your arrival," Khione announced with a smile. She sure had a knack for acting. That seemingly genuine smile of hers was nothing but a facade. I would have almost believed it if not for the contemptuous look she gave me upon seeing my E-Rank Skill. "A parade?" Amelia echoed, clearly taken aback. "Yes, let''s not dawdle," Khione urged, gesturing to her knights, who promptly escorted us out. As everyone began to filter out one by one, I halted my steps at the door leading outside. "Nathan?" Teacher Amelia glanced at me, puzzled. I offered her a smile. "Just need some advice from the Goddess. I''ll catch up with you all later. Please go ahead." "Alright...but do be careful," Ms. Carter cautioned, her wariness visible. The knight gave me a brief look before exiting and closing the door behind them, leaving me alone in the hall with the Goddess, who stood by the altar, her gaze fixed upon it. I couldn''t discern her expression. "Do you require something, Hero Nathan?" She asked without turning around. "Oh, you remember my name? I was under the impression you couldn''t care less about Heroes with a Skill of D-Rank or lower, Goddess Khione," I said with a laugh, the sound echoing through the hall. Khione slowly pivoted, a gentle smile gracing her features. "I apologize if there was any misunderstanding, Hero Nathan. All Heroes hold significance to me." With her truly divine beauty, she was quite convincing, I had to admit. But I wasn''t like those naive fellows. My mindset was different, without a hint of arrogance. My safety above everything else. And at present, my safety was under threat in this damn fantasy world teeming with monsters and demons, and I was utterly defenseless against them with those stats. If I didn''t take risks now, I might as well resign myself to being devoured alive by creatures of the dark. Between taking a risk against a hot Goddess or a monster, the choice was quickly made. "Well, let''s say I believe you. I''m currently in a great pinch because of my stats so can you do me a favor?" I asked with a smile. Chapter 4: Enslaving The Goddess (1) Chapter 4: Enslaving The Goddess (1) "Well, let''s say I believe you. I''m currently in a great pinch because of my stats so can you do me a favor?" "A favor?" Khione''s gaze held an inquisitive spark. "Yes," I affirmed, maintaining a safe distance as I walked around, wary of the divine aura she emanated. Let''s just say it was a safe distance to keep. Khione observed my movements with her piercing, icy blue eyes. "You''re a Goddess, so I thought perhaps you could provide me with other powerful Skill Books, as mentioned earlier," I began. "Or even better, equip me with magic weapons and armor for protection. As you''ve seen, my Main Skill is merely E-Ranked. I wouldn''t last long with such a Skill. Strengthening me would benefit both myself and your cause." "Our cause?" Khione''s expression genuinely reflected confusion. "Well, yes," I nodded. "If I become stronger, it would undoubtedly aid all of you, wouldn''t it? You''re aiming to defeat a Demon King. It''s wise to gather more allies, especially when I''m a Hero from another world." "That''s an interesting perspective," Khione mused, placing a finger to her chin in acknowledgment. But I could sense the undertone of mockery in her gesture. "In that case, I suppose I''ll receive a powerful Skill Book and weapon?" I suggested, a satisfied smile playing on my lips. "An SSS-Ranked Skill would be ideal, along with the finest weapon from your arsenal. After all, I did ask first, so priority should be given to me," I stated matter-of-factly. "You raise a valid point, Hero Nathan. But why should I waste valuable resources on an E-Ranked Hero when there are more talented individuals?" Khione questioned, her tone carrying a hint of coldness. "Waste? I thought I held as much value as the other Heroes. It''s disheartening to hear otherwise from such a lovely Goddess," I sighed, feigning disappointment. There was a brief silence before Khione''s countenance turned cold, a divine aura beginning to radiate from her as the ground beneath us started to freeze. "You should depart, Hero Nathan. Your companions await," she stated icily. "Unfortunately, I have no comrades who genuinely care about me, so that statement is untrue," I retorted, taking a cautious step back. Khione''s icy gaze seemed to pierce through me. "Is that a refusal?" I pressed, my voice steady despite the chill in the air. She didn''t bother responding. Was this how insignificant I appeared to her, this Goddess of ice and indifference? Let''s start then. I first decided to transfer all my remaining status points to my Luck stat, leaving only one point in each of the other stats. BADOOM! A wave of weakness washed over me, my body shrinking, my face contorting, and my hair falling out in clumps. I struggled to remain standing, my vision blurred as I strained to see Khione''s face through the haze of my deteriorating body. "What are you doing..." Khione narrowed her eyes, clearly alarmed by my drastic action. Allows the user to place a seal on a chosen Target. Once sealed, the Target is compelled to obey the User''s commands. The User can also*********** I cut off the analysis there, refraining from delving further to avoid blatant cheating. However, the initial description was sufficient for my decision. Copy Forbidden Seal. My E-Ranked Seal began to glow. Copy initializing... Analyzing Divine-Rank Skill... Processing possibilities... I waited for a few seconds, relieved that Khione seemed oblivious to my actions. Despite being confused, she likely believed I posed no threat, given my E-Ranked Skill. And to be fair, that was a reasonable assumption. But in that moment, she unwittingly lowered her guard. Successfully acquired Divine-Rank Skill: Forbidden Seal! When I saw the Forbidden Seal shining rainbow replacing the E-Ranked one, my lips twisted sadistically. I ignored the long ass description and immediately aimed the Goddess in front of me. "Divine Rank Skill: Forbidden Seal." Khione, whose calm and icy gaze had been a constant until now, slowly widened her eyes in shock. Horror contorted her features, and she was about to utter a word when¡ª It was too late. From the palm of my hand emerged a brilliant white seal, expanding steadily before her. Khione''s body froze entirely; she couldn''t move a muscle, lift a finger, or even speak. Helpless, she could only watch in terror as the seal gradually shrank and entered her chest. An invisible shockwave rippled through the air around us, leaving a heavy silence in its wake as Khione fell to her knees. Her earlier confidence and composure vanished, replaced by sheer panic. "No... no!" she managed to gasp out, her voice barely a whisper. "Don''t speak," I commanded, my voice carrying an authority I''d never felt before. Khione tried to form words, but they failed to leave her lips. "And don''t use any Skills without my orders," I added, just to be safe. With an effort, I dragged my frail, emaciated body in front of her, almost resembling a zombie in appearance. Perhaps it was the twisted satisfaction in my smile or the unsettling visage I now presented, but Khione seemed utterly terrified of me. Standing before her, I smirked, revealing my deteriorated, rotten teeth. "Making a Goddess kneel is quite an exhilarating feeling, wouldn''t you say, Khione?" Chapter 5: Enslaving The Goddess (2) Chapter 5: Enslaving The Goddess (2) "Making a Goddess kneel is quite an exhilarating feeling, wouldn''t you say, Khione?" With Khione rendered silent and immobile before me, I couldn''t help but let out a groan of discomfort. The strain of exerting my newfound power was evident; my body ached, and standing felt like an arduous task. I had known there would be consequences to my actions, but the reality was even harsher than I had anticipated. However, I hadn''t made the decision to sacrifice 50 years of my life on a whim. No, it was a calculated risk¡ªone that I hoped would yield significant rewards in this fantasy world. My plan was clear: by making a Goddess my servant, I could compel her to reveal all the secrets necessary to heal me and potentially find a way to reclaim the lost years I had sacrificed. But before I could proceed, I needed to fully understand the extent of the Skill I had obtained. I focused my attention on the complete description of the Forbidden Seal. [Divine-Rank: Forbidden Seal] Allows the user to place a seal on a chosen Target. Once sealed, the Target is compelled to obey the User''s commands. Through this bond, the users can transfer their life essences, intertwining their fates. If the Master dies, the Slave will meet the same fate. However, the success of this enslavement is not guaranteed. If the Target possesses greater strength and emotional resilience than the User, the bond may fail to take hold. Once established, the Master and Slave influence each other on both mental and physical levels. They possess the ability to sense each other''s presence and communicate telepathically. Crucially, the Master holds complete control over the Slave, dictating their actions and decisions. The Master may choose to release the Forbidden Spell, severing all ties between them, but at the cost of shattering the bond entirely. Next Seal: 0% Very long but very instructive. With my hand raised and aimed at Khione''s head, I commanded, "Transfer her life essence, bit by bit." "Aghn..." Khione groaned in agony as a radiant white aura escaped her body, surrounding and enveloping mine. The sensation was beyond description. It felt as though I were being revitalized, rejuvenated, as if I were experiencing a resurrection of sorts, despite never having perished in the first place. Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com My entire being glowed with a brilliant white light as my desiccated flesh began to regain its vitality. Youth returned to my face, and my body gradually regained its strength and vigor. Limbs, chest, and torso¡ªall parts of me were restored to their former glory. All the while, Khione writhed below me, her pain evident in every groan. It felt like cheating, or perhaps, I was just incredibly fortunate. Soon enough, my hair began to sprout anew, and my teeth grew back, pristine and whole. My vision even improved beyond its previous state. In that moment, I was restored to my original form, yet I found myself consumed by greed. "More," I demanded. "Aghn!" Khione''s hands pressed against the ground as another wave of agony washed over her. "Ah, yes!" I exulted, stretching out my arms to welcome Khione''s essence as it merged with mine. My hair turned a snowy white, and I could feel my body growing even stronger. However, I soon halted the transfer, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the infusion of Khione''s divine essence. "Status." ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã [Nathan Parker] Lvl 1 "Then you''re of no use to me. Prepare to meet your end," I declared, raising the sword once more, poised to deliver the fatal blow. "W-wait!" Khione interjected once more, desperation lacing her voice. "I am a Goddess! You are but a mere human! This shouldn''t be happening! I can''t¡ª" "Do I appear to care about such trivial rules, Khione?" I interrupted, tilting my head in mock curiosity. Speechless, Khione stared at me as if I were some kind of deranged monster disguised in human form. "I am... a Goddess... don''t you understand?" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "What I understand, Khione, is that unless you give me what I want right now, you will meet your end," I replied sternly, pointing the sword at her neck. Khione''s lips quivered as she met my gaze, eventually lowering her head in submission for a full minute. I waited patiently, knowing that while it would be regrettable to lose such a powerful entity, I would not hesitate to eliminate her if she refused to obey my commands. After all, having disobedient slaves would only lead to trouble in the future. "Okay..." "Whoat?" I barely heard a whisper. Khione''s voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight of acceptance. "I... accept," she murmured. "What do you accept?" I asked. "I said, I accept!" Khione''s tone turned sharp as she shot me a glare. With a mischievous grin, I prodded further, "Say it, Khione. Confess that you accept to be fucked by me." Khione nervously nibbled on her lip as she reluctantly confessed, "I... accept to be... f..fucked by you..." The admission from a Goddess of divine beauty stirred something within me, a primal urge awakening. "Excellent. Now, kneel upon that altar," I directed, careful not to use the Skill to foster a sense of trust between us. Though hesitant, Khione obeyed, making her way to the altar and positioning herself on her knees. I sensed her apprehension, the fear of the unknown pulsating through her. "Are you a virgin, Khione?" I asked, a smile playing on my lips. Khione remained silent, her response unspoken. "Answer me, Khione," I commanded, compelling her to speak. "Y-yes," she reluctantly admitted, her face flushed with embarrassment. Recognizing her purity, I resolved to proceed slowly, savoring each moment and honoring her innocence. "Now, undress me," I instructed, guiding her hesitant, snow-white fingers to my trousers, relishing the delicate touch against my skin. As her cold fingertips grazed my flesh, a shiver ran down my spine, a sensation I hadn''t anticipated. Oh, the exquisite beauty of her hands; I had never realized the allure of fingers until now. This woman was certainly a Goddess. Khione slowly removed my brief and...something bulged out in front of her face. "!" Khione retreated her head in shock upon seeing my cock standing hard in front of her. Now the fun begins. Chapter 6: Goddess Khione鈥檚 Tongue Work (1) * Chapter 6: Goddess Khione''s Tongue Work (1) * "It''s alright, Khione. There''s nothing to fear. It won''t harm you," I reassured her, sensing her hesitation. But Khione appeared frozen, her mind seemingly unable to process the situation. Was this truly her first encounter with a man''s arousal? The thought only fueled my excitement further. "Come now, take hold of it," I said gently, extending an invitation. Khione''s gaze flickered nervously between me and my member, clearly apprehensive. Taking matters into my own hands, I gently clasped her soft fingers and guided them toward my throbbing arousal. As her hand made contact, a surge of pleasure coursed through me, heightened by the sensation of her delicate touch. Her hand, so gentle yet so captivating, enveloped my length. However, Khione remained frozen, unsure of her next move as she felt my throbbing member. "Now, move your hand slowly, like this," I instructed, demonstrating the motion. Following my guidance, Khione tentatively began to stroke my shaft with a delicate touch. The sensation elicited a low groan of pleasure from deep within me. Merely her touch was enough to stir intense arousal, amplified by the realization that she was none other than a divine Goddess. Moved by the moment, I reached out, running my fingers through her silky white hair. I struggled to contain the urge to release, fighting against the overwhelming desire to climax onto her divine face. With sheer willpower, I managed to restrain myself. "Now, lick it," I said, moving forward to the next stage of our encounter. Khione looked up at me, her expression bewildered. "L...Lick?" "Yes, use your tongue to caress the tip," I affirmed, guiding her through the action. Though hesitant, Khione reluctantly obeyed, her hand still wrapped around my throbbing member. With a tentative motion, she extended her delicate pink tongue and gave a brief lick to the head, her brow furrowing at the unfamiliar sensation. Meanwhile, I was enveloped in euphoria, every nerve electrified by the sensation of her tongue against my sensitive flesh. But I wanted more! Lost in the intoxicating pleasure, I had lost all track of time, oblivious to the pressing engagements awaiting us beyond our intimate encounter. "Okay." I muttered. Thinking it was over, Khione was about to stand down but I stopped her. "What are you doing?" I interrupted, halting Khione''s attempt to leave. "Leaving... we''re late," she replied, her voice tinged with irritation as she avoided my gaze. "You can''t just walk away without ending what you started," I countered with a smirk, gently guiding her back to her knees. "Ending what?" Khione asked, a bit nervous. I gestured toward my erect shaft, proudly standing before her, defying gravity. It had swelled even larger after Khione''s innocent ministrations. "Suck it," I commanded, my tone laced with desire. "W...what?" Khione stammered, taken aback. "Up until now, you''ve only licked it. Now, I want you to take it into your mouth and suck and lick from within," I explained, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. "Have you lost your mind? To ask such a... shameless act from a Goddess, and... we really should be leaving," Khione protested, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she tried to pull away. But I held her shoulder firmly, preventing her escape. "If you insist on leaving, then do it quickly," I said sternly, my tone brooking no argument. Khione''s fists clenched at my words. "I''ll help you," I assured her, gently taking her soft hand and guiding it toward my throbbing member, inching it closer to her closed lips. "Now, open your lips," I instructed, watching as Khione complied, her lips trembling. "Wider, otherwise it won''t enter," I chuckled, teasingly urging her to open her mouth wider. Khione obliged, her mouth opening wider to accommodate my throbbing member. What a beautiful sight it was, her lips parting to receive me, her innocence and submission fueling my desire to ravage her virgin mouth. Knock knock! "Goddess?" Chapter 7: Goddess Khione鈥檚 Tongue Work (2) * Chapter 7: Goddess Khione''s Tongue Work (2) * Knock knock! "Goddess?" But just as I was about to indulge in the forbidden pleasure, a sudden knock echoed through the room, accompanied by a man''s voice calling out to Khione. Khione''s expression contorted in horror as she moved to close her mouth and stand up, but before she could react, I thrust my penis forward, plunging it into her warm, wet mouth. "Mmffff?!" Khione''s eyes widened in shock as she looked up at me, her mouth now filled with my throbbing length. "Suck, and I will tell you what to say," I said, meeting her gaze with a firm resolve that left no room for refusal. From the intensity in my gaze, Khione understood that escape was not an option. With a resigned look, she surrendered to my will, her lips parting to accommodate my throbbing member. Holy fuck! As her pink lips enveloped me, a wave of pleasure surged through my body, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. The contrast between her cool exterior and the warmth of her mouth sent shivers down my spine, intensifying the sensation of her wet tongue caressing my length. "It''s Samuel," the man outside announced, his voice muffled through the thick door. Samuel? That blasted bodyguard, was intruding on our private moment. I just wished he would disappear from this world at this moment. "Buy time," I said to Khione, withdrawing my cock from her mouth. "W...what is it¨Cmmfff!" Khione began to question, but her words were cut off as I thrust my cock back into her mouth, silencing her protests with a deep moan of pleasure. Visitt (.)co/m for the latest updates "Goddess? Lady Khione? Everyone is waiting for you," Samuel''s voice called out from beyond the door, interrupting our stolen moment of pleasure. I allowed Khione to awkwardly suck my penis for a few more seconds before releasing her. She coughed and choked slightly as threads of saliva still connected her mouth to my member. True bliss. "A...Are all the Heroes ready for the Parade? And...cough... is the Royal Family prepared to welcome them?" Khione asked, her voice slightly strained from the recent intrusion. Without hesitation, I thrust my penis back into her mouth, silencing her question with a another moan of satisfaction. And like the obedient goddess she became, Khione resumed her task, sucking me eagerly. "Yes! The Heroes are all dressed fittingly for the Parade," Samuel confirmed from outside, oblivious to the scene unfolding behind closed doors. "Mfffnn....mffnnff~~" Khione''s muffled noises in response sounded almost like nods, eliciting a chuckle from me. "The Parade route is prepared, and security measures are in place. The residents eagerly await the arrival of the Heroes," Samuel continued, probably hearing a nod from Khione. "Suck faster," I commanded, urging Khione to quicken her pace. Despite the slight discomfort, she complied, closing her eyes in slight awkwardness as she took more of my cock into her mouth and increased the speed of her movements. The sensation of her mouth on my member was electrifying, despite its awkwardness. Her teeth grazed my shaft occasionally, but the pleasure far outweighed any discomfort, and I groaned in ecstasy as Khione''s mouth worked wonders on me. "The Royal Family is also waiting for us. Everything is ready." Samuel said. "Slurp~~~glurp~~glurp!" "Oh! It''s coming...continue!" "Well, until then, you''ll continue to pleasure me. Come," I commanded. "You! Aren''t you finished?!" Khione snapped, angrily as she took a step back. "I am, but who will clean up the mess you''ve made?" I retorted, gesturing toward my semen-covered cock. As I approached her, Khione''s entire body trembled with shame. "Don''t waste both our time, Khione. They''re waiting for us," I reminded her. With a resigned look, Khione returned to her knees and grasped my dick with her right hand, ready to finish what she started. "Careful." Khione hesitantly approached my member again, her delicate nose wrinkling at the strong scent of semen that lingered in the air. She extended her pink tongue and gave the pink glans a tentative lick, cleaning away the traces of white fluid. "Slurp~" I encouraged her, relishing in the twisted pleasure of the moment as I stroked her soft white hair. With each successive lick, Khione worked to cleanse my penis, her tongue moving rhythmically over its surface. "Sluuurp~sluuuurp~~sluurrppp~sluuurp~~~" The sound of her licking filled the room again. For the next minute, Khione continued to lick my member clean and ensured that not a trace of semen remained to get over it. As I watched her perform this act, a sense of bliss washed over me. Was that a damn dream? If it was, I hope it will never ever end. Because it damn sounds like a dream. I mean Isekai''d in a fantasy world. That was too cliche? and fantasy-like. Got to be because I thought it was a dream that I acted so cocky and put my life on the line with that Goddess. "Sluuurp~~" On Earth, I had a boring life and there was a chance close to zero to get beauty as a girlfriend. I mean I might have gotten a girlfriend but probably no one compared to my step-sisters, Courtney, Aisha or the teacher. I had to keep my desires sealed and act like a normal guy on Earth but in this world... I could finally become myself and do everything I always wanted. And it starts with her. She acted haughty toward me but now she was licking my cock clean. "Slurp~" That''s right. I enslaved the Goddess who summoned me. Chapter 8: Parade Of Heroes Chapter 8: Parade Of Heroes "You did a good job, didn''t you?" I said, genuinely impressed by the thoroughness of Khione''s cleaning. Khione stood up, stepping back and wiping her mouth with a look of disgust. "Is that really your first time?" I asked, unable to suppress a laugh at her reaction. Khione shot me a glare in response. "Relax, it''s just a compliment. I''m genuinely impressed. It''s your first time licking someone''s dick, and it''s my first time being licked by a woman. We''re even," I reassured her. Honestly, I couldn''t have asked for a better first cock-sucking. After all, the person performing it was a Goddess with divine beauty. Khione turned and began to walk away, and I followed suit. "Well, I think we both need fresh clothes. I''m counting on you again, Khione," I said with a smirk. I could sense Khione''s burning desire for one thing right now: killing me. Such is life, Khione. If only you had kindly given me a powerful Skill Book and weapons without that condescending gaze, perhaps I would have reconsidered my target. But alas, I''m petty like that. As I walked behind her in the hallway, I couldn''t help but notice her amazing figure. Damn! She appeared to be a young man in her early twenties, her physique sculpted to perfection with curves that accentuated her femininity. Her breasts were modest yet shapely, complemented by a generous posterior that strained against the confines of her white dress. Despite my desire to indulge in her immediately, there were more pressing matters at hand. We arrived at a peculiar room, which Khione promptly opened. "Choose your clothes here," she said, preparing to leave, but I caught hold of her arm. "Where are you going?" I asked, refusing to let her out of my sight. "I have to prepare myself," Khione replied curtly. "Don''t leave my sight," I insisted, locking eyes with her. Khione shot me a glance that spoke volumes about her feelings towards me before reluctantly re-entering the room. The space was dominated by a long dressing table that spanned the entire length of the room, with clothes strewn about haphazardly on the floor and scattered across various surfaces. "Um, no reason, I just like it," I deflected, not wanting her to see my now snow-white hair. "Hmm? And what''s with your eyelashes..." she started again, her gaze lingering on me. "We should depart now. The Royal family awaits all the Heroes," Khione intervened, saving me from further scrutiny. By the way, she looked stunning in that green and white dress, much like my step-sisters, Aisha, Gwen, and Courtney. With my newly acquired Divine-Ranked Skill, I could easily bend them to my will... But I dismissed that notion. None of them had done enough to earn enslavement, and besides, I preferred the challenge of winning them over on my own terms, if possible. The knights formed a protective circle around us as we made our way toward the parade. From a distance, the sounds of drums and cheers filled the air, accompanied by the vibrant hues of flowers and confetti raining down upon us. The residents of the capital lined the streets, their jubilant welcomes echoing all around. Amidst the throng, Jason and the girls garnered the most attention, their presence drawing admiring gazes from both genders. Yet, towering above all, was the Goddess herself. "Goddess Khione!" "Bless us!" "Thank you!" Khione graciously acknowledged the adoration with a wave of her hand and a gentle smile, her ability to remain composed was very praiseworthy after what happened. As we approached the grand castle, two figures in armor awaited us at the entrance. "I am Oscar, a Commander of the Empire, serving the Emperor," announced the tall, handsome man. "And I am Cecilia, also a Commander of the Empire," added the striking woman with fiery red hair and captivating green eyes. Her red hair, even redder than any seen on Earth, and undeniable beauty captured the attention of everyone present. "We will escort you to the Emperor. Please, follow us," they both beckoned, leading the way with a nod of respect and reverence toward Khione. The castle''s interior was as opulent as those seen in other European nations, but it had the added sense of life because actual residents were there. As we passed through the hallways, there were knights, butlers, and maids who bent their heads before us. I could see Jason and Oscar talking in the front, and Cecilia and Ms. Amelia. He was definitely immersed in his heroic work. Two imposing soldiers met us at the enormously elaborate door and nodded before swinging open the doors that led to the royal hall. Chapter 9: Royal Family and Welcome Feast Chapter 9: Royal Family and Welcome Feast "I extend a warm welcome to all of you, Great Heroes of the otherworld, to the Empire of Light!" The man with light brown hair and vibrant blue eyes greeted us with a wide smile, his royal attire and jewel-adorned crown marking him as none other than the Emperor. "Samuel," Khione called, summoning her bodyguard forward. "Allow me to introduce you to the Emperor of the Empire, Emperor Philip Raydawn." Samuel stepped forward, positioning himself in front of us. Philip returned the gesture with a charming smile, causing a few of the girls to blush¡ªseems the allure of an older, handsome man was indeed universal. "Welcome, Heroes. It''s a pleasure to have you here," Philip greeted us warmly. Next, a stunning woman rose to her feet. With long honey-blond hair and bright blue eyes, she exuded an undeniable allure that captivated the attention of many.I could see that every male in my class was staring at the Queen''s protruding breasts that seemed to be about to pop out of her off-the-shoulder regal gown. Easily the hottest milf I''ve ever seen. "The Great Empress Helana Raydawn," Samuel introduced her, emphasizing her regal presence. Following her introduction, another duo approached, appearing to be around our ages¡ªa handsome young man and a striking girl. "I am Geoffrey Raydawn, First Prince of the Empire of Light. It''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance," the brown-haired prince introduced himself, flashing a grin that rivaled even Jason''s cringe-worthy protagonist smiles. His charismatic demeanor elicited giggles and whispers from the girls among us, who were clearly taken by his charm. Next a melodious voice rang from the honey-blond haired princess. "I am Adelia Raydawn, the First Princess of the Empire of Light," she announced graciously. "I extend my warm welcome to the Great Heroes from beyond our world, expressing heartfelt gratitude for your willingness to aid our Empire. Your presence is deeply appreciated." Her words flowed with a charm that captivated the attention of all present, particularly the male contingent. Yet, amidst the exchange, I couldn''t help but notice a subtle exchange between Adelia and Jason, marked by a gentle, knowing smile from Adelia. Oh boy, I knew where this was getting headed. "Your Majesty," began Amelia Carter, surprising us all with her initiative. "As the teacher entrusted with the care of these students, I hold their safety in priority. While I understand the necessity of their involvement in defending your Empire, I implore you to prioritize their well-being in all endeavors they undertake. Furthermore, I seek assurance that none of my students will be coerced into combat." Amelia''s heartfelt plea resonated deeply with us, evoking a sense of respect and admiration. Even I found myself moved by her dedication to her duty. King Philip, too, appeared taken aback, perhaps expecting different demands. However, he nodded in agreement, offering his solemn assurance. "You have my word. The safety of these Heroes is of utmost importance. They will receive training from our finest knights and will engage in simulated combat before facing true adversaries. Rest assured, no one will be forced into battle." "Thank you," Amelia murmured, her relief evident in the respectful tilt of her head. "Now, please, we have ample time for conversation. Please, help yourselves!" declared King Philip, gesturing graciously as servants laden with dishes began to fill the table, inviting us to partake in the lavish feast. The aroma of the sumptuous meal stirred my appetite, eliciting a growl from my stomach as the scent of meat wafted tantalizingly. "Thanks," she smiled, but her eyes were fixed on Jason conversing with Commander Cecilia. It was clear she longed for his admiration. Seeing her desire for Jason only intensified my craving to conquer and fuck her. While such desires were unattainable on Earth, in this world, all things seemed possible. After all, I had even been sucked by a Goddess. With nothing to say anymore Siara left. Looking around, I noticed that I wasn''t the only one alone. Aisha Miura was also alone sitting gracefully on a chair. As for Gwen... She found herself cornered by Commander Oscar, who seemed intent on charming her. It was understandable; she did cut a striking figure in her emerald dress. Yet, despite her outward composure, her gaze betrayed her irritation. The lavish feast carried on for another hour, the King engrossed in conversation with Khione and Ms. Carter, undoubtedly discussing matters of great import. Eventually, we were escorted to another wing of the castle where our accommodations awaited. Each of us had our own room, meticulously prepared, with the boys and girls segregated into separate quarters. Sleeping within the confines of a castle was a privilege reserved for few, and the opulence of our surroundings only served to underscore this fact. Surveying my quarters, I couldn''t help but be impressed. The room resembled something out of a luxury hotel suite, every detail exuding opulence and sophistication. From the gleaming furnishings to the sumptuous bedding, everything spoke of extravagance. The bed, with its expansive canopy, beckoned invitingly, and I couldn''t resist sinking into its plush comfort. With a smirk, I tapped my temple, reaching out to Khione through our mental connection. "Dear Khione, could you join me in my room?" There was a moment of silence, but I knew she couldn''t have missed my request. Her Divine Skill was too potent to overlook such a summons. "If you don''t come I will have to order it." ("I..have work to do.") "Well, you can do that after our little meeting. Come right now." I said coldly and cut off the transmission. Chapter 10: Questions For Goddess Khione * Chapter 10: Questions For Goddess Khione * Lying on the bed with my arms folded behind my head, I waited in silence, gazing up at the intricate tent crafted from ornate sheets. Now, at least, the reality of my situation was clear. I hadn''t been caught in a lengthy dream but rather thrust into another world along with my classmates. A dangerous world, as I had come to understand. From this point forward, I would need to tread cautiously, lest I meet an untimely demise. Knock knock! "It''s open." The door creaked open slowly, revealing Khione, naturally. She was draped in a hooded cloak, concealing her hair and features from prying eyes, particularly those of my fellow classmates. "Close the door and lock it," I instructed, and she complied. As the door clicked shut, I rose from the bed with a grin. "Could you remove that cloak so I can admire you?" I noticed a flash of displeasure cross Khione''s lips as she discarded her cape. "You did an excellent job maintaining your composure throughout the feast. Quite impressive," I commended her with genuine praise. "What did you need?" Khione asked, brushing off my earlier remark. "I assumed you already knew," I replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and gesturing towards my crotch. Khione''s jaw dropped in disbelief. "You...!" She began to protest but quickly regained her composure. "I am the Goddess tasked with protecting this Empire. I have myriad responsibilities to attend to, including aiding you and your fellow Heroes, and yet you dare to summon me for such trivial matters!" "Yeah, I dare. Come now," I stated with a cold stare. "I...I," Khione hesitated before cautiously approaching me. "Get on your knees, Khione," I instructed with a smile, shedding my blazer and tossing it onto the bed. Khione complied, bending her knees with an ashamed expression, clutching her dress as she lowered her head. "Unfasten my belt and lower my pants," I directed. With trembling hands, she undid my belt and gradually lowered my pants until they pooled around my knees. "My briefs." At my command, she removed my underwear, revealing my semi-erect cock. It was less engorged than before, a testament to my self-control. Despite facing such beauty, I managed to restrain myself, perhaps thanks to the energy I had received from her. I could sense her surprise at the difference in size compared to our previous encounter. I had always been drawn to innocent women like her. "Need a refresher on how to handle it, Khione?" I asked with a sigh. Khione shot me a glare before reluctantly reaching out her hand to grasp my limp member. Oh! The sensation of her cool touch sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. And what delicate hands she possessed. Only hands like hers were worthy of holding my cock for the first time. "Faster. Lick faster Khione." I added a hint of my authority over her. "Sluuurp~~sluuurp~~sluuurrp!" "R-Right! Lick all around it! Every inch! Use your damn tongue to explore every part!" I shouted, gripping her hair tightly. Khione''s grip on my member tightened as she quickened her pace, her tongue darting around my shaft and glans. "Sluuuuuurp! Sluuuurp! Hnnn!" She closed her eyes, intensifying her movements. "Open wide!" I commanded. With obedient compliance, she parted her lips, and without hesitation, I thrust my cock into her mouth. "Mffffnnnn!" She gagged at the intrusion. "Now, suck it!" I ordered again. "Gluuurp~~" Khione took my member into her mouth, her pink lips tracing its length as she eagerly sucked. "Move your head like that yeah!" I tilted my head back, savoring the sensation of her warm, wet mouth engulfing me shamelessly. Her saliva provided ample lubrication as her lips worked diligently, her pace increasing. "Gluuurrp~~~Sluuuurp~~~GLURP!!" Now fully engrossed in sucking my member, Khione moved her head in a rhythmic back-and-forth motion. The revered Goddess of the Empire, worshipped by all, now knelt before me, sucking my cock with fervor akin to any woman in heat. A wave of pleasure surged through me, my entire body ablaze with heat. It was imminent. A powerful climax loomed as Khione sucked with increasing urgency. "Glurppp! Gluuuurp~~" "Y..Yeah!!!!" With a firm grip on Khione''s head, I released a torrent of semen into her waiting mouth. Khione ceased her sucking, closing her teary eyes as my essence spilled forth, filling her mouth. I don''t know how long it lasted but I held for several seconds until no more semen spurt out. Once I was certain, I released my grip on Khione''s hair. "Ha...." I slumped on the bed completely tired. "C-Cough! Coughhhh!" Below on the ground, I could hear Khione coughing out the surplus of semen that caught in her throat on the ground. Then she stood up awkwardly and quickly headed to the restroom of the room. Meanwhile I relinquished myself from the afterglow on the bed. Getting sucked by a Goddess is really the best thing. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 11: Late Morning Chapter 11: Late Morning I heard Khione retching and coughing before she slowly returned from the restroom. "Look at the mess you''ve made," I complained, surveying the floor stained with my semen. "..Disgusting," Khione muttered, wiping her lips with her hand after rinsing her mouth with water. Her eyes were teary from choking on my member. "Well, you''ll get used to it. But before that, didn''t you forget something?" I gestured towards my semen-covered glans. Khione glanced at my still-erect cock, understanding my implication. "It has fucked your mouth, Khione. The least you can do is thank my cock by cleaning it," I said with a smirk. Khione clenched her fists but approached once more, kneeling down and taking my member back into her grasp. "Slurpp~~" "Yeah, clean it gently," I said, patting her hair. Her tongue meticulously traced around my glans, wiping away the remnants of white semen, leaving behind a rosy hue. "Sluuurp~~~sluuurp~~" "Good," I murmured, stroking her cheeks. I had enslaved a Goddess. But I couldn''t afford to be complacent. Not in the slightest. She was extremely powerful and I have to be always on my guard against her. What is done is done. That''s why I need to remind her on a daily basis that I have control over her. To not let her think about a way to kill me. To make her focus on pleasuring me, I was diverting her attention. "Sluuuurp~~" She ended with a last lick and retreated her head back. "Nice job again, Khione," I stood up and put back my pants. I offered her a hand but she refused. As I observed her figure up close, my gaze fell on her valley hiding a good pair of breasts. I reached out my hand and cupped her right breast through the dress. "Wha..t." Khione was caught off guard but I ignored. I felt the elasticity and I could feel my member already getting hard again. "No, your breasts and your pussy are for another day." Khione shivered a little before her cheeks flushed in shame again. She then proceeded to leave the room. "It''s really hard," I sighed. Really hard to hold back from fucking her right away. How many times did I think about throwing her in the bed, ripping her dress and pounding my dick inside her virgin pussy. But even I wasn''t that much of a monster. Oscar turned to regard me, but I paid little heed, my focus instead on my classmates earnestly practicing their swordplay under the guidance of seasoned knights. Each of them wore attire similar to mine, signaling their readiness to train, even Ms. Carter herself. "You are?" Oscar called out with a puzzled gaze. I turned my gaze toward him. "Nathan Parker." "Hmm? I don''t recall seeing you yesterday, Hero Nathan. Has your hair always been white?" Cecilia inquired, her gaze on me. "No, it''s just a side effect of my Skill," I explained. "Is tardiness also a side effect of your Skill, Hero Nathan?" Oscar said with an exasperated sigh. His remark didn''t please me. I despised being looked down upon. "Remind me who you are again?" I called, my tone dripping with disdain. "I''m...Oscar, the Commander responsible for training the Heroes," he replied, narrowing his gaze. Clearly, he didn''t appreciate my tone. "As one of the Heroes you''ve summoned, I expect a modicum of respect, especially from a mere Knight whom I will surpass in a matter of weeks," I smiled. "What did you say?" Oscar advanced towards me, his glare intense, but Cecilia intervened, holding him back. "Oscar," she called out before turning to me. "We apologize if we''ve offended you, Hero Nathan," she added, her voice neutral, lacking its usual warmth. It was a pity to see such a beautiful face regard me with such indifference. I held no animosity towards Cecilia; in fact, I harbored a great fondness for her. "Nathan! You''re late!" Ms. Carter''s voice cut through the tension, her disapproving gaze fixed on me. I scratched the back of my neck sheepishly. "Apologies, Ms. Carter. I was feeling a bit homesick," I offered in apology. Both Oscar and Cecilia wore expressions of shock at my sudden change in demeanor, contrasting sharply with my earlier confrontation with Oscar. The truth was, I held a deep love for Ms. Carter; she was undoubtedly the finest teacher I had ever known, and her kindness had helped me immeasurably. She was beautiful on top of that. When I said homesick, Ms. Carter''s disapproving gaze melted away showing a compassionate one. "It will be okay, Nathan." See. That''s exactly what I was talking about. It was decided. I absolutely wanted her. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 12: Over 10 000 Luck Chapter 12: Over 10 000 Luck "Hey guys! Look at Parker!!" "Why his hair are white?"" "Don''t tell me this guy dyed it because we are in a fantasy world?!" "Ahahaha!" As whispers and chuckles rippled through the group, all eyes turned to me, drawn by the anomaly of my white hair. Ignoring their taunts, I reached for a sword from the nearby bucket, determined to focus on the task at hand. "Looks like Parker decided to go full fantasy mode with the dyed hair!" Aiden''s booming voice cut through the chatter, his usual teasing tone ringing familiar to my ears. Aiden had a history of picking on me, though it was never too severe back in high school. But I knew better than to underestimate him. His Main Skill boasted an SS rank, indicating formidable strength. While my own abilities had undoubtedly improved since gaining Khione''s energy, I couldn''t be certain of Aiden''s stats. With an SS-ranked Skill, his prowess could be considerable. Although I was confident in my Vision, Mana, and Luck surpassing his, other attributes remained uncertain. What concerned me more was the potential danger posed by his Skill. Despite possessing a Divine Rank Skill, which theoretically surpassed an SS rank, Khione''s power was not geared towards combat. Its purpose lay in subjugation, capable of enslaving even Gods. But utilizing it against someone like Aiden seemed a huge waste, not to mention the seal on Khione''s power was far from complete. Currently, it stood at a mere 5%, a stark contrast to its dormant state at 0% just yesterday. "Aiden, cut it out," Jason''s intervention was swift, his protagonist aura lending weight to his words. "Are you giving me orders now, Spencer?" Aiden retorted, his glare fixed on Jason. "I''m just asking you to show some decency. We''re all in this together; we should be supporting each other," Jason reasoned calmly. Aiden smirked before launching a punch towards Jason with sudden force. Baadam! A rush of wind swept through the air as Jason deftly caught Aiden''s fist with his right hand. The display of strength was remarkable, a testament to the newfound abilities we all possessed since awakening. "Not bad, Jason. Seems like you''ve got some strength too," Aiden chuckled before departing. "But I''ve got no interest in weaklings like you, Spencer." "What a brute," muttered Courtney Turner, a stunning girl with chestnut hair and brown eyes who stood beside Jason. It was no secret that she harbored feelings for him, though Jason seemed oblivious or indifferent to her affections. Look at her. Courtney Turner. As Courtney nervously avoided my gaze, her usual air of disinterest crumbling in the wake of my touch, I couldn''t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. For so long, I had harbored a desire to win her affections away from Jason, and it seemed my luck was finally beginning to turn in my favor. Suppressing the urge to kiss her right then and there, I released her from my grasp, making sure to maintain physical contact for as long as possible before reluctantly letting her go. Jason''s unspoken fury was palpable as he led Courtney away, his disapproval evident in the way he pat her back. Meanwhile, the rest of our classmates watched in stunned silence, no doubt bewildered by Courtney''s uncharacteristic reaction to my touch. I couldn''t help but smirk inwardly as I reflected on the power of my luck. It seemed that my mere presence had become a lucky charm, capable of influencing even the most unlikely of outcomes. I pondered the extent to which my luck could affect Khione''s responses to my requests. While she hadn''t shown any overt attraction towards me, there was a possibility that my heightened luck softened her reactions, even if only subtly. But it wasn''t just Khione; my luck seemed to work wonders on others, particularly girls, who found themselves inexplicably drawn to me despite my status as an outsider in this world''s reality. After all, I was a Hero, an anomaly from another world, with luck exceeding 10,000. And it seemed that my luck was just beginning to reveal its true potential. The only problem was that I was going to die in one year. That was the price I had sacrificed for so much luck and for enslaving a Goddess. But I still had one year to find a way to extend my life expectancy. There was no way I would let myself die now. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 13: Speaking With The Teacher Chapter 13: Speaking With The Teacher The training session stretched on until the sun climbed high overhead, its warm rays spilling over us as we honed our skills. By the time the clock struck noon, our muscles were taut with exertion, our minds sharp from the mental challenges we''d faced. As the last exercises wrapped up, the tantalizing aroma of a hearty meal drifted through the air, promising sustenance to replenish our energy stores. The fare laid out before us was nothing short of impressive - robust meats sourced from the mightiest creatures this world had to offer, carefully selected to imbue us with even greater strength and vitality. Each dish held the promise of fortification, a testament to the rigorous training we endured day in and day out. Amidst the bustling activity of the mess hall, I found myself once again relegated to solitude, my solitary figure propped against a weathered pillar overlooking the tranquil garden. The chatter and laughter of my peers filled the air, their camaraderie a stark contrast to my solitary state. "Nathan, dining alone again?" The gentle voice broke through my reverie, drawing my attention to the approaching figure. It was none other than Amelia Carter, our teacher, her presence a calming presence amidst the chaos of our new routine. "Yes, Ms. Carter," I replied. "Seems I haven''t found my place among the others." Amelia offered a sympathetic smile, her eyes betraying a hint of concern. "You don''t seem too distraught by it, Nathan." I shrugged, a wistful smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Perhaps it''s better to be alone than to keep company with those of ill intent, wouldn''t you agree?" "Indeed, but I''m certain not all your classmates are as sinister as you imagine," Amelia remarked, her voice laced with gentle amusement. "Perhaps," I conceded, my gaze drifting to the bowl of food and fork in her hands. "May I join you?" Amelia asked. "Of course." I moved a bit on my left, letting her sit. "Ah! What a good weather," Amelia said with a smile. As I looked at her figure from the side, I couldn''t help but admire her beauty and forms. Although her training top and pants were merely highlighting her shapes, she was wearing them. Without lying, her breasts were at least a C-Cup, fairly good. She had also just finished training, so her shirt was little damp at the breasts. In some ways, I could even see her nipples. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing her pale neck, which was glistening with sweat. A deep desire to conquer started sprouting inside me. "Do you ever feel lonely, Ms. Carter?" I ventured, breaking the silence that hung between us like a delicate veil. "Lonely?" Her brow furrowed in confusion, the question seemingly catching her off guard. "I mean, do you miss your parents, or... a boyfriend?" I stumbled over the words. "Oh, my parents perhaps, but as for a boyfriend, I''m afraid that''s not in the cards for me," she replied with a gentle chuckle. Well, that''s good but either way I wouldn''t have cared. She will become mine. "I was attending to matters concerning the Heroes," Khione replied tersely, her gaze meeting Hera''s with a cool resolve. "That does not explain your tardiness," Hera retorted, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance as she fixed Khione with a piercing stare. "Calm yourself, my dear," Zeus said, his voice a soothing balm amidst the rising tension. "Tell us, Khione, how fare the Heroes?" "Remarkably well, as befits beings from realms beyond our own," Khione replied. "But..." Zeus''s voice crackled with latent power, his divine energy pulsing with an intensity that spoke of hidden concerns. "Do they pose a threat to us?" It was a question that weighed heavily upon the minds of the divine assembly, for while they welcomed the summoning of Heroes capable of wielding great power, none were to surpass the might of the gods themselves. Should any mortal prove capable of such a feat, their very existence would pose a dire threat to the balance of divine authority - a threat that could not be tolerated. At that moment, a clear face flashed in Khione''s mind. The answer was obviously yes. There was currently a Hero with a Divine Rank Skill and clearly extremely dangerous for them, the Gods. But she couldn''t tell. The first thing they would do would be killing Nathan and by doing that she will die. "No." She answered. Hera''s golden eyes gleamed as she looked at Khione, and there was a tense stillness. "Well done." Zeus grinned. "Don''t they think they should be able to kill the Demon King?" He enquired. "Yeah, I do believe so," Khione answered. Water suddenly burst forth close to Khione, and a second God materialized in heavenly majesty. He had eyes and hair the color of the sea. He smiled, swung down his trident. "My lovely Khione. I had been anticipating your arrival. "Poseidon." Coldly, Khione whispered. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 14: Sneaking Out Chapter 14: Sneaking Out "Poseidon." Coldly, Khione whispered. Poseidon. Visitt (.)co/m for the latest updates He was Zeus'' brother but also her supposed fiancee. Her father promised her to Poseidon even though she never accepted it. She ignored and delayed the process all these years using the excuse of the Demon King to kill. "What are you doing here, brother? It''s rare to see you here?" Zeus asked with a smile. Usually Poseidon would remain in his palace under water because he didn''t like the palace of his brother. "I came to see my beautiful Khione," Poseidon declared, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Move," Khione coldly pushed Poseidon away. "Ooouhhh! Always so icy, but I love that about you," Poseidon remarked, licking his lips as he approached Khione once more. "It''s time for you to surrender yourself to me, Khione," he insisted. "I have duties to attend to in the human world," Khione dismissed. "Oh, forget about them! Let those humans die! No one cares about them!" Poseidon snapped. "Brother..." Zeus cast a disapproving glance at Poseidon. "Do you comprehend, brother?! You pursued Hera relentlessly, forcefully fucked her until she relented and became yours! I haven''t even gone that far with Khione. I''ve exercised immense patience, but I''ve reached my limit," Poseidon declared. "H-How dare you speak of me like that, Poseidon?!" Hera glared, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Oh, come on, sister. We all know how Zeus ravished you senseless to make you acquiesce," Poseidon grinned. "I heard your moans even from down there." "YOU!!!" Hera stood up cheeks bright red in anger and embarrassment. "That''s enough, Poseidon," Zeus interjected, shaking his head. "Do you understand now? I can''t hold back much longer. I want her now!" Poseidon declared, his gaze fixed on Khione like a predatory beast. "Sigh... Khione, it''s time for you to accept Poseidon. He''s waited long enough," Zeus asserted, taking Poseidon''s side. In front of the Olympian King of Gods, Khione couldn''t refuse easily. Still, she spoke up. "At least until we defeat the Demon King.." "No fucking way! Your useless Heroes will take ten thousand of years before killing him! I want you now." Poseidon glared. Zeus didn''t say anything and looked at Khione. He also thought the same as Poseidon. Khione bit her lips. "In three months." Poseidon''s grin widened when he heard that. "Three months?! It''s like tomorrow! Ahahaha! Wait for me!!" He cackled before disappearing. Hera had a smirk on her face. She was glad of the outcome. Luck is always on my side. I brought my face closer, inhaling the scent of her perfume that lingered in the air. She was prepared. "Ah~ Jason..." Her soft moan escaped her lips as I kissed her neck, intoxicated by her fragrance. I gently removed her cloak, revealing a tantalizing white negligee that hugged her curves. Her delicate de?colletage was on display, hinting at her petite size but good for her age. I''d say she was an A cup. I reached beneath her negligee, cupping her breasts from below, relishing in their softness. "Hn??~ don''t be too rough~" she whispered, her voice filled with pleasure. Ignoring her plea, I continued to massage her through the fabric, appreciating her beauty. As expected of one of the top beauties of the school. Her neck was my next target, as I planted soft kisses along its curve. "A.. Ahn!" Her moans grew louder, fueling my desire. "Shh..." I hushed her gently, my lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. Her lips were soft and inviting, urging me to continue. I savored the sensation as I deepened the kiss, lost in the moment. "W.. Wait, Jason?" Her hands pressed against my chest, attempting to push me away. Ignoring her protests, I ran my hands along her thighs, marveling at their softness. They were undoubtedly feminine, a stark contrast to my own. When my hands moved dangerously closer to her inner thighs... "S.. Stop!" Her voice grew more insistent as she pushed me away, pulling down my hood in the process. Though she couldn''t see my face clearly, my white hair gave me away. "Y.. You!" Her voice was filled with shock and disbelief as she realized my identity. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 15: Threatening Courtney Chapter 15: Threatening Courtney "N.. Nathan?" Courtney muttered, her expression twisting into anger. "H.. How dare you! Disgusting! I will tell Jason, and he will bea-" "Where do you think you''re going?" I gripped her arm, pulling her back to the junction and trapping her against the wall once more. "L-Leave! Help.. Mnnnn!" Her voice was muffled as I covered her mouth with my hand. Fear flashed in Courtney''s eyes as she struggled against my grip. My demeanor was a far cry from the bored classmate she once knew. I no longer needed to conceal my true nature. And yet, she had yet to witness the extent of my darkness. She wriggled and pushed against me, but I held firm, overpowering her with ease. Was she afraid of being taken advantage of? Did she truly believe I would defile her in such a place? But I couldn''t deny the desire that stirred within me, the urge to claim her, especially while she remained untouched. "Stop now," I commanded, my voice cold and unwavering as I revealed my phone. Displayed on the screen was a damning video, capturing every moment of our illicit encounter thus far. Courtney had been too preoccupied with her own pleasure to notice me recording it. I always calculated my moves carefully, and I knew she would be compelled to keep quiet once she saw the evidence. Courtney''s eyes widened in shock as she watched the footage, her pleasured expression starkly contrasted against her current state of distress. "Do you want me to show this to everyone? Believe me, I have enough battery to do so," I taunted, a smirk playing on my lips. With my phone as leverage, I had effectively silenced Courtney for the time being. "What would your beloved Jason think seeing you moaning under my touch?" I asked. Courtney stopped struggling. At last she still liked Jason. Little did Courtney know, she was head over heels for Jason, utterly oblivious to the fact that he saw her as nothing more than a disposable plaything. If he had his say, he''d likely discard her like yesterday''s news and move on to the next conquest without a second thought. See, Jason was all about appearances. Juggling multiple relationships at once? It was all about maintaining that pristine image, ensuring he had a steady supply of fresh faces to adorn his arm. But dating several girls concurrently came with its own set of risks, jeopardizing his chances with the other beauties on his radar ¨C like Siara, Aisha, and Gwen. So, naturally, he''d toss them aside like worn-out toys, all to keep his options open and his reputation intact. And then there was me, the antithesis of Jason''s shallow tactics. Sure, I could see the appeal of playing the field, but I couldn''t bring myself to stoop to his level. Unlike him, I wasn''t about to concoct elaborate schemes or manipulate emotions to win over a girl. No, when it came to matters of the heart, I preferred a more straightforward approach ¨C if I wanted someone, I''d pursue them earnestly, no mind games or ulterior motives involved. Once they were mine, they were mine, simple as that. No need for elaborate schemes or endless rotations of partners. "Courtney?" A whisper suddenly rang in the corridor. No doubts, it''s Jason. His footsteps approached. "The same could be asked of you, Aisha," I replied, lowering my hood to reveal my face. "I''m training," she stated simply, gesturing to her wooden weapon. "Didn''t you get your fill this morning with Oscar?" I quipped, curious about her nocturnal activities. Aisha shook her head, a solemn expression crossing her features. "It''s not enough, not with the looming dangers ahead." I nodded in understanding, making a move to depart, but Aisha''s question halted me in my tracks. "Where are you off to, Nathan?" She asked. "Just...needed some fresh air," I muttered, hoping to brush off the question and disappear into the night. "Outside the castle?" She questioned, her voice now laced with seriousness. I nodded in confirmation. "Yes." "It''s against the rules for any of us to venture beyond the castle walls alone, especially at night. It''s for our own safety," Aisha reminded me, her words weighted with caution. I flashed her a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry, I''ll tread carefully, and I''m armed," I assured her, gesturing to the sword secured at my side. Aisha regarded me silently for a moment, her expression unreadable. "If you''re not back within three hours, I''ll have no choice but to alert everyone," she warned. "Got it, Aisha," I replied, acknowledging her ultimatum with a nod. What I admired most about Aisha was her straightforwardness. Despite her seemingly aloof demeanor, she possessed a genuine concern for others, a quality that resonated deeply with me. I couldn''t shake the feeling that she was onto my carefully crafted facade ¨C the deliberate underperformance in academics and the calculated aloofness in my behavior. During our collaboration on the group project, I had inadvertently revealed glimpses of my true nature, and I suspected that Aisha had caught on. Yet, she chose not to pry or question my motives, a testament to her respect for privacy and boundaries. Aisha Miura was the one person in our class whom I desired above all others, even more so than my own step sisters. However, I knew I had to tread cautiously with her. She was sharp, perceptive, and far too intelligent to be manipulated or coerced. Threats were out of the question; with Aisha, honesty and respect were the only currency worth trading in. I wanted her to moan under me with a genuine pleasured smile. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 16: Fight In the Forest Chapter 16: Fight In the Forest After successfully navigating the treacherous climb over the castle walls, I wasted no time in summoning Khione, the Goddess of Snow. True to her nature, she arrived promptly, her presence heralded by a chilling gust of snow. "Why the delay?" I questioned, frustration creeping into my tone. "It took some time to travel," Khione replied cryptically, evading the specifics. My curiosity piqued, I pressed for more information. "From where?" Khione hesitated to speak. I squinted my gaze at that. Before I could order an answer, she relented. "From Olympus. With the other Gods," she revealed, taking me by surprise. Olympus? As in, the heaven of the Greek Gods? "Wait, you mean Zeus and the other Olympian Gods actually exist in this world?" I exclaimed, taken aback by the revelation. Khione''s surprise at my mention of Zeus was evident, but she nodded nonetheless. It dawned on me that while on Earth, the tales of Greek mythology were relegated to mere legend and lore, here in this world, they were living, breathing entities. I was well-versed enough in Greek mythology to understand the gravity of the situation. These were not benevolent beings to be trifled with ¨C especially Zeus, the King of the Gods, known for his volatile temper and as someone very cautious about threats. I closed my eyes for a moment. This just got a whole lot more dangerous than I had anticipated. "So, you''re the one who requested the summoning of Heroes, but what did those Gods up there think of it? It''s the third time, after all," I remarked. "Zeus didn''t care much as long as they weren''t a threat to them. Then there was a vote," Khione explained. "A vote? Who was against it, and who was for it?" I inquired. "Hera, Poseidon, Apollo, Artemis, Dionysus, and Demeter were against it," Khione replied. "And who were in favor?" "Athena, Ares, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Hermes." "It seems like a tie. I suppose Zeus had the final say?" I guessed, and she nodded. I see now. Setting aside those who opposed the summoning, I was curious about the motivations of the other six who sided with Khione. "Anyway, let''s get started," I said. With an irritated expression and clenched fists, Khione approached me and knelt down, much to my surprise. "Your silence speaks volumes. It''s a relief to know you''re happy," I remarked, a hint of sarcasm lacing my words. "Well, you''re hardly one to talk about happiness, are you? A solitary figure with nothing but a singular goal: to slay the Demon King," I added with a smirk. As the rustling of leaves reached my ears, I tensed, instinctively grasping my sword and rising to attention. With a sharp intake of breath, I scanned the area, my eyes narrowing as I caught sight of the approaching threat. [Big Wild Rabbit LVL 24] "You can''t beat it," Khione warned. I brushed off her words, my focus solely on the looming adversary before me. With calculated precision, I closed the distance between us, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and fear. In a split second, I sprang into action, drawing upon my heightened senses to anticipate the creature''s movements. BADOOM! With lightning-fast reflexes, I dodged its swift strike, narrowly evading its deadly claws. Seizing the opportunity, I lashed out with my sword, aiming for its vulnerable leg. A shallow cut appeared, but it was clear that it would take more than that to bring down this formidable foe. "Let''s continue then!" ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Khione was shocked. She observed Nathan fighting head on against a monster he shouldn''t be able to fight in normal cases. There were more than ten levels of difference between them after all. Yet Nathan took advantage of the fact that he had 100 in Vision Stats to dodge perfectly and injure the big rabbit. She already knew that Nathan was apart from the other Heroes because of his unusual lack of fear, even more concerning her but also the Gods. He mentioned them without a slight change in his expression even though they could kill him in an instant if they wanted. But now she discovered that Nathan had another quality. Brave enough to not step back in front of a strong opponent. It was a bad point that had been present for months for all the Heroes she had seen as they were from a peaceful world but Nathan had never had that fear of getting hurt or even dying. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 17: Eating Khione (1) * Chapter 17: Eating Khione (1) * LEVEL UP! LEVEL UP! LEVEL UP! LEVEL UP! LEVEL UP! I heard again the status vibrating like a phone as I retrieved my sword from the dead Big Rabbit. Its body shone, disappearing into parties before entering my body. This time I felt an even more raise in strength. I recovered my breath before checking my status. [Nathan Parker] Lvl 15 43 50 40 550 105 10 550 20 SP: 0 Skills: [Divine-Rank: Forbidden Seal] All my stats leveled up except my charm. Even my absurd luck rose a bit. And I was now level 15. That was a good start. Now it was already a bit late, I should take a good sleep but before that. "It''s over?" Khione asked, preparing to leave. I grabbed her arm. "Not yet." Khione understood what she wanted. "Not here.." "This spot is perfect, Khione," I remarked, scanning the dark forest surrounding us. With my arm wrapped around her waist, I pulled her closer, taking in her enticing scent. "You smell divine, Khione," I murmured, nuzzling her neck. "Hn~" As I peppered her neck with kisses, I held her tightly, feeling the press of her breasts against my chest. "Mnnn~??" Her slight moan encouraged me further. Despite her divine status, she was still a woman with sensitive spots. With a hunger that knew no bounds, I moved from one nipple to the other, each one receiving equal attention as I feasted upon her with reckless abandon. "Ahn!!" Her cries reached a fever pitch as I continued to suckle, each flick of my tongue sending waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. As the moon cast its ethereal glow upon us, I guided Khione''s trembling form to the soft bed of grass beneath us, her body yielding to my touch with a symphony of moans and sighs. With her right nipple ensnared between my eager lips, I savored the taste of her, relishing the way her breath hitched with each flick of my tongue. "AHN!??" The intensity of her arousal only spurred me on, driving me to new heights of passion as I continued to lavish attention upon her tender breasts. With a hunger that knew no bounds, I sucked and nipped at her sensitive flesh. "Ahn??...ahn????~ahn...ahn...hnnn????" Khione''s voice, once cool and composed, now echoed with the sweet strains of ecstasy, her pleas for mercy drowned out by the overwhelming waves of pleasure that consumed her. "S..Stop...hmm!" Lost in the intoxicating rhythm of our shared desire, I paid little heed to Khione''s protests, my focus consumed by the heady scent of her arousal and the taste of her on my lips. With a devilish smirk, I allowed my hand to wander beneath her dress, my fingers tracing a tantalizing path along the curve of her thigh. The promise of what lay beyond hung heavy in the air, a potent reminder of the forbidden pleasures that awaited us both. "S..Stop!!" Khione''s cry pierced the night air, a desperate plea for respite amidst the whirlwind of sensation that threatened to overwhelm her. She was a virgin after all. Little was needed to bring her to her climax. My fingers traced a path of anticipation, inching closer to the source of Khione''s undeniable arousal. The fabric of her panties, soaked through with desire, served as a barrier between us. "You are wet, Khione?" I teased, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips as I continued to massage her breast with deliberate intent. "N..No..." Khione''s voice wavered, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her denial only served to fuel my desire further. With a swift motion, I tore aside the fabric of her panties, revealing the glistening folds of her sex beneath. "Ahnnn??" She moaned at my roughness. Without hesitation, I plunged my finger into her slick heat, reveling in the sensation of her tightness as she yielded to my touch. "Haaa??!!" Khione''s cry was music to my ear. With each thrust of my finger, I grazed against her most sensitive spots, driving her to the brink of madness with pleasure. "Hmnnn????...no...n..no..." Khione''s protests fell on deaf ears as I continued to explore her depths, my fingers dancing across her skin with a fierce determination. With one hand caressing her breast and the other delving deeper into her core, I savored the moment. Khione could only shake her head with eyes closed tight. Now! With a swift motion, I took her nipple between my teeth, pulling it taut as I drove my finger deeper into her slick heat. She opened her eyes wide. "Haaa!?? HAAAAAAAAAN??????!!!" / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks!CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m Chapter 18 Eating Khione (2) * Chapter 18 Eating Khione (2) * "Haaa!?? HAAAAAAAAAN??????!!!" Khione''s loud cry of pleasure filled the night air as she orgasmed, her body shivered and her legs closed between my hand, enclosing it. Squirt! At the same time, a surge of sticky, sweet nectar gushed forth from her core, drenching my fingers in her juice. It was warm and slick, coating my skin in a sheen of her arousal before spreading to cover my entire hand in a glistening layer of her desire. As Khione''s climax washed over her, her body tensed and then went limp, her icy blue eyes fluttering closed as she succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins. "Haaaaa..." Her breathy sigh filled the air as she drifted into unconsciousness, her legs twitching involuntarily in the aftermath of her release. With a satisfied smirk, I withdrew my hand from her throbbing core, coated in the sticky evidence of her arousal. The sight of her juices glistening on my fingers was intoxicating, filling me with a primal hunger that demanded to be satiated. Without hesitation, I brought my fingers to my lips, savoring the taste of Khione''s essence as I licked them clean. There was something undeniably addictive about the tangy sweetness of her arousal, a flavor that left me craving more with each passing moment. Follow the latest novels at novelhall.com Driven by desire, I continued to lick my hand clean, relishing in the decadent sensation of Khione''s lewd juices coating my tongue. But as my gaze fell upon Khione''s unconscious form, her bare breasts exposed and her delicate features softened in half slumber, I felt a surge of desire unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Unable to resist any longer, I rose to my feet, my pants falling to the ground in a hasty motion. With a firm grip on my throbbing cock, I began to stroke myself with increasing urgency, the need for release consuming me from within. And then, with a primal roar of ecstasy, my climax washed over me in a torrent of pleasure, my hot seed spurting forth in long, pulsating jets. It splattered across Khione''s dress, staining her breasts and neck with my lustful desires. "Oh..Khione.." I murmured as I collapsed to my knees beside her, my body trembling with the aftershocks of my release. With one final kiss pressed to her breast, I allowed myself to slump back with a heavy sigh. "That was so good...man..." It had been barely two days but I was already satisfied. "Ahn~??" With each passing moment, I felt myself becoming more lost in the pleasure, my senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent and taste of Khione''s skin. But I was not content to stop there. No, I wanted to explore every inch of Khione''s exquisite form, to map out every curve and contour with my lips and tongue. And so, with a hunger that bordered on madness, I trailed kisses down her body, leaving a trail of fire in my wake. My tongue traced a tantalizing path along Khione''s soft stomach, savoring the way her body quivered beneath my touch. Each delicate kiss I pressed to her tummy button elicited a breathy sigh of pleasure from her lips, igniting a fierce desire within me. And as I continued my descent, my heart pounded in my chest with a rhythm that matched the thunderous beat of a drum. Reaching out to her legs, I spread them apart with a deliberate slowness, relishing the anticipation that hung heavy in the air between us. My gaze lingered on the strapped heels adorning her feet, a detail that only served to heighten my arousal. With a smirk, I made quick work of removing them, reveling in the sight of her pure white feet and legs as they came into view. Placing her leg on my shoulder, I took a moment to admire the exquisite beauty before me. Her legs seemed to stretch on for miles, adorned with a flawless complexion that left me utterly captivated. Kissing her left foot tenderly, I trailed a path of kisses up her leg, savoring the sweet taste of her skin until I reached her thighs. "A..ahn...wh..what?" It was then that Khione''s eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her gaze as she took in the scene before her. With a devilish grin, I reassured her, spreading her legs wider and asserting my dominance. "Time to eat you up, Khione," I declared, my voice dripping with desire. "N...No not...now.." But Khione''s response was one of uncertainty, her sweaty face paling slightly as she voiced her hesitation. Ignoring her protests, I held her thighs firmly in place, a hunger burning in my eyes as I brought my face closer to her dripping pussy. The sight of her love nectar already drooling out only served to fuel my desire further, and I could feel the inner lips of her sex twitching with anticipation. "D..Don''t...look..." Khione''s face was bright red with shame, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she pleaded for me to avert my gaze. I felt something snapping inside me as I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste her pussy for the first time. The very essence of her arousal lingered in the air, enticing me with its intoxicating scent and igniting a fire within me. "Ahn??!" Khione''s voice rang out, a symphony of pleasure that echoed in the confines of the room. Her attempts to close her legs were futile, as I held them firmly in place, driven by an insatiable hunger to explore every inch of her trembling form. With each lick, I savored the sweet taste of her wetness, my tongue tracing a sinuous path of pleasure along her delicate folds. The sensation was electric, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through my veins and causing my arousal to surge to new heights. "Ahn??...Ahn??...hnnn??...AHN??..." Khione''s moans grew louder, more desperate, as she surrendered herself completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. Her hands found their way into my hair, fingers tangling in the strands as she pulled me closer, urging me to delve deeper into her intoxicating embrace. "Let''s see it," with a smirk, I spread her labia, revealing her untouched hymen in all its glory. I knew it already but the realization that Khione was indeed a virgin sent a shiver down my spine. And as her inner walls pulsed with each passing moment, releasing more nectar I chose to take the last step. / / / Chapter 19 Eating Khione (3) * Chapter 19 Eating Khione (3) * I knew it already but the realization that Khione was indeed a virgin sent a shiver down my spine. And as her inner walls pulsed with each passing moment, releasing more nectar I chose to take the last step. I wasted no time, eager to explore every inch of Khione''s trembling form. With a sense of anticipation, I inserted one finger into her dripping wet hole, eliciting a loud moan from her lips as she tightened her grip on my hair. "Aaahn!" She moaned loudly as I slowly thrust my finger in and out of her, savoring the sensation of her walls clenching around my finger. Encouraged by her response, I added another finger, relishing the way her juices coated my skin. "W..What...is..ahn...n...no...ahn??!" Khione''s protests were futile, her body betraying her words as she surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins. Her sweet nectar flowed freely, coating my fingers in her essence as I continued to finger her with increasing fervor. "Such a lewd Goddess you are~" I couldn''t help but smile at the sight of her writhing beneath me, her moans of pleasure driving me wild with desire. "Haa??...hann...ahn??ahn??!" But I wasn''t finished yet¡ªI had something else in mind, something that would push her pleasure to new heights. Bringing my face closer, I aimed for the small button at the top of her pussy, her clitoris, giving it a quick lick before thrusting my tongue on it. The sensation was electrifying, causing Khione to cry out in pleasure as her body convulsed with pleasure. "AHNNN!!??" And then it happened¡ªher pussy gushed forth her juices, drenching my face in her sweet nectar as she experienced her second orgasm. It was a sight to behold, her body writhing in pleasure as she succumbed to the overwhelming sensations washing over her. She was that sensitive, I realized, her body responding eagerly to my touch. With a satisfied smile, I licked my lips, savoring the taste of her essence once again as I observed her trembling form before me. Her breathing was heavy, her dress opened to reveal her bountiful breasts and her legs spread wide to expose her dripping wet pussy. Her white hair splayed out on the bed behind her as her arms shook with the intensity of her pleasure. "Time to make you mine," I declared, a surge of desire coursing through my veins as I knelt before Khione''s spread legs, shedding my shirt and lowering my pants and briefs with purposeful intent. It was very late at night. The morning training of the class will probably start in a few hours but I didn''t give a shit about that. I only wanted to fuck Khione and sleep with her. I tore away her dress entirely, giving me a full view of her divine body. With my rock-hard dick in hand, I coated the swollen tip with Khione''s dripping nectar, relishing the intoxicating scent that filled the air. Gripping her legs firmly, I pulled her closer to me, positioning myself at the threshold of her virgin pussy. "E..hn...w..what? Ar..e you doin...g?" Khione''s voice was laced with uncertainty, her breath ragged as she gazed up at me with wide eyes. "AHNN??! AHNN??! AHNNNNN...S..SOMETHING! S..SSTOPP...AHN!" Khione''s eyes widened in terror as she felt her body tensing up, a sense of dread washing over her as an unknown feeling gripped her body in its icy embrace. But still, she could not resist the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume her completely. I didn''t pay any heed first because I didn''t care and second because I was too busy to hold back but it was freaking difficult when she was moaning like that. I can feel it. I thrust my waist with all the strength I could muster. "S..STOOOPP!! AHN????!" Khione''s desperate cries filled the air, her body writhing beneath me as I plunged deeper into her with each powerful thrust. "C..Cummmin!!!" I groaned, my voice raw with ecstasy as I felt the familiar tightening in my loins, the impending release of my climax drawing near. With one final, forceful thrust, I buried myself deep within her, my cock driving past the last remnants of her hymen as my hot seed spilled forth in a torrent of ecstasy. "HYAAAAA!!! HAAAA??????!!!" Khione''s body convulsed beneath me, her cries of pleasure mingling with the raw intensity of her climax as she surrendered herself to the overwhelming tide of sensation. "F..Fuck..." I muttered, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I collapsed on her, the aftermath of our passion leaving us both spent and exhausted. Her climax seemed to stretch on for an eternity, the blissful haze of pleasure enveloping us both as we lay entwined in the aftermath of our passion. As I pulled out my cock, a mixture of my semen, her nectar, and blood poured forth from her pussy. Exhausted but content, I forced a tired smile as I pressed my lips to her moisten lips dripping with saliva. With a sigh of satisfaction, I slumped beside her. Tomorrow, I would take a shower and face the world anew. But for now, in this moment of blissful oblivion, I knew that I had found true fulfillment with Khione¡ªa memory that would forever linger as the pinnacle of pleasure in my life. / / / Chapter 20 A Tiring Waking Up Chapter 20 A Tiring Waking Up Knock knock! "Lord Hero!" The sound of the door being rapped upon echoed through the room, accompanied by the urgent voice of a girl waiting outside. But I was too exhausted to muster a response. Desperately, I tried to muffle the noise by burying my head beneath a cushion, but the persistent knocking persisted, undeterred by my feeble attempts to block it out. Knock knock! "Hero Nathan!" With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly turned over in bed, my weary eyes barely able to focus on the source of the disturbance. "What?" I grumbled, my voice thick with exhaustion as I addressed the intruder. "The Morning training started two hours ago...you are late," she informed me. The mere mention of the morning training was enough to elicit a groan of frustration from me. I had already grown weary of that shit, despite it being only the second day. "Yeah," I muttered dismissively, hoping to expedite her departure. As I stretched my hand out to my left, my fingers brushed against the soft fabric of the sheet, a tangible reminder of the events that had transpired in the darkness of the night. Turning my gaze to the side, I saw Khione lying beside me, her form shrouded in the sheets, her blue eyes fixed pensively on the ceiling above. I couldn''t help but wonder how long she had been awake, lost in her own thoughts. With a resigned sigh, I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way to the window, throwing it open in an attempt to dispel the lingering scent of sex and sweat that hung heavy in the air. "Good morning, Khione," I greeted her, though her attention remained fixed elsewhere. With the shower head in hand, I adjusted the temperature to a soothing warmth before directing the gentle stream of water over Khione''s delicate form. At first, she flinched slightly at the sensation of the warm water cascading over her hair and skin, but soon she relaxed, allowing the gentle flow to cleanse away the remnants of the night. As I settled the shower to our liking, I moved to crouch in front of Khione, seeking her gaze. However, she averted her face, unwilling to meet my eyes. "Look at me," I insisted, gently but firmly brushing her wet white locks aside. When she continued to avoid my gaze, I reached out, cupping her chin and guiding her blue eyes to meet mine. "You are mine, Khione," I asserted with a serious tone, watching as the slave crest reluctantly appeared on her chest. Khione let out a soft groan in response, her expression conflicted. Drawing closer, I pressed my lips to hers in a tender kiss, feeling her respond with a soft hum of pleasure. "Mmmm~" "Open your mouth," I whispered against her lips, taking the body wash and lathering my hand with it before trailing my fingers along her thigh. "Haa??" With a slight moan, Khione complied, parting her lips as I delved into her mouth with my tongue, initiating a deep and passionate kiss. "Hmm~~glurrp~~~sluurrrp~~~" The sounds of our fervent kiss filled the air, mingling with the gentle splashing of water as I continued to explore her mouth, savoring the taste of her on my lips. The lewd sounds of our deep kiss reverberated through the steam-filled bathroom as I eagerly explored Khione''s mouth, savoring every taste and texture. With one hand engaged in our passionate embrace, my other hand drifted down to where Khione''s pussy awaited my touch. Gently, I applied soap to my fingers, ensuring they were slick and ready to provide her with the utmost care and attention. Despite her initial resistance, Khione''s legs involuntarily closed, but I persisted, guiding my hand between her thighs. "S..Stop...hnn~~....we...have t..to go.." Khione''s protest was met with a gentle shushing from me as I silenced her with a kiss. "I am cleaning your pussy, so stay still, okay?" I instructed, my voice laced with authority. "Y..yes...hmm??" Khione''s compliance was evident as she yielded to my touch. With a smirk, I eased a finger into her warm, wet pussy, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Skillfully, I maneuvered my finger, using it to cleanse her delicate folds with tender care. "Ahmn~??...no..." Khione''s protests were met with a playful nip at her lower lip, followed by a soothing lick from my tongue. The sensual cleansing continued for several minutes, during which Khione''s body responded eagerly to my ministrations. Eventually, I allowed her to continue washing herself while I tended to my own cleanliness, mindful of the time we had already spent indulging in our intimate moment as we were already late. Chapter 21 A Month Later Chapter 21 A Month Later "A month has whisked by since our valiant Heroes were called forth. How fare their progress?" the Emperor of the illustrious Empire of Light asked, his regal form settled upon the throne like a sovereign oak. "Their strides are nothing short of remarkable, Your Majesty. They exceed our loftiest expectations, eclipsing even our most optimistic projections," replied Oscar, the Commander entrusted with the stewardship of the Heroes'' development. Though barely breaching the threshold of his thirties, Oscar possessed a rare blend of talent and charisma, earning him the esteemed role of overseeing the Heroes'' ascent. But he wasn''t alone in his assessment. "Certainly, I concur," affirmed Cecilia with a sage nod. "And who among them stands out as the most in terms of prowess?" queried Emperor Philip. "Hero Jason undoubtedly emerges as the pinnacle of strength and skill. He has vanquished formidable beasts and dispatched mighty demons with aplomb. Following closely behind are Hero Sienna, Hero Aiden, and Hero Gwen. Siara Parker, Aisha Miura, and Courtney Turner also exhibit considerable prowess, with their teacher, Sarah, displaying formidable defensive capabilities," elucidated Oscar, drawing from the wealth of insights gleaned during the past month''s rigorous training. "A heartening revelation indeed," remarked the Emperor, his countenance suffused with satisfaction. The burgeoning strength of the Heroes augured well for their impending confrontation with the Demon King. "Truly, they seem to be blessed by the divine," chimed in the Empress, her voice brimming with delight. "Father, I believe he is a remarkable man," Adelia responded, her smile imbued with warmth. "Strong, kind, and utterly dependable." With a nod of agreement, the Emperor''s smile widened. "Thus, we must ensure the continuity of our realm''s prosperity, whether by their hand or otherwise. Adelia." "Yes, Father?" responded Princess Adelia, her visage radiant with grace. Oscar''s words trailed off, with anger. Though he harbored disdain for Nathan''s disrespectful demeanor, he found himself powerless to remedy the situation without tarnishing his own reputation. "Is this indeed the case, Cecilia?" Asked the Emperor, turning his attention to Cecilia, who shared responsibility for the Heroes'' training. Cecilia nodded, her expression a mix of puzzlement and concern. "Yes, Your Majesty, but there''s something about him... he doesn''t seem malicious." Though initially put off by Nathan''s arrogance regarding his status, Cecilia couldn''t help but notice his surprisingly amiable demeanor towards her. Despite his occasional flirtations, he never crossed any boundaries, leaving her to wonder if there might be an underlying issue, perhaps an illness, given his perpetual drowsiness. "I''ve attempted to address his behavior respectfully, considering his status as a Hero. However, his disregard for authority, even toward the Empire itself, is troubling. It could pose a danger in the future. I''ve refrained from taking drastic measures thus far, as per Amelia Carter''s request that her students not be coerced into combat. But..." Oscar''s voice trailed off, his frustration evident as he carefully embellished the truth, painting Nathan as a potential threat to the Empire should he fall into the wrong hands. The Emperor''s brow furrowed at the implication of a Hero betraying their homeland. Such a scenario was not unheard of; Khione still vividly remembered the repercussions of such a mistake. Despite Nathan''s apparent lack of prowess, his lineage as a Hero rendered him a potential liability. "There is nothing to worry about." A beautiful voice rang. As if on cue, the doors of the throne hall swung open once more, revealing a woman of unparalleled beauty: Khione. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 22 Courtney After A Month (1) Chapter 22 Courtney After A Month (1) "There is nothing to worry about." "Goddess Khione," greeted the Emperor and Empress in unison, rising from their thrones as a mark of reverence upon Khione''s entrance. "As I have stated before, there is no cause for concern regarding Hero Nathan," Khione reiterated, her voice carrying the weight of authority. "But Goddess Khione, despite the King''s and your benevolence, he continues to flout our values," interjected Oscar, his frustration palpable. "I concur, Goddess Khione. I have personally witnessed his disrespectful conduct on multiple occasions," added Samuel, Khione''s loyal bodyguard. "He even had the audacity to address you directly and impertinently inquire about your whereabouts." Samuel''s distaste for Nathan was evident, and he struggled to comprehend Khione''s apparent leniency towards him. For someone who could be ruthless in her judgments, Nathan''s transgressions seemed deserving of retribution. Yet, Khione remained reticent, seemingly unmoved by his disrespectful behavior. "Despite his actions, he remains a chosen Hero. As per the agreement with Amelia Carter, he is entitled to protection and exempt from mandatory combat," Khione reminded them, her gaze piercing. "And it is true, isn''t it, Oscar? You have confirmed his lack of progress and weakness." "Yes, indeed! He is unequivocally the weakest among them, often sequestering himself in the library or his quarters," Oscar affirmed. "Then let him be," decreed Khione, her tone indifferent. "The last thing we need is to undermine the trust of our Heroes. Allow him his freedom. We have no need of him, after all." Khione''s words masked a deeper concern; she understood the precariousness of Nathan''s situation. To cast him out or worse, condemn him, would only expose him to grave danger beyond the capital''s walls, endangering not only his life but hers as well. "As you wish, Goddess Khione," the Emperor fortunately nodded. He couldn''t just refuse a Goddess'' words easily even though truthfully he wanted to get rid of nuisances like Nathan but rather he had better plans to get rid of Nathan and even the Goddess could only accept it. Khione didn''t miss the Empress'' sigh of relief. "Are the preparations ready for this training trip?" Khione asked Cecilia. "Yes, lady Khione. Following a quick morning training we will head to the deeper part of the forest," Cecilia said. "Good." Khione nodded and left. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã He was seated on a table reading a book. The title of the book was: [B-Rank Assassins Skills] As Courtney''s gaze fell upon Nathan engrossed in a tome of skill-related information, she couldn''t help but wonder about his motivations. After all, she had long perceived Nathan as lacking in prowess, both physically and in terms of his training regimen. It seemed improbable, if not outright impossible, for him to acquire new skills without putting in the requisite effort. Yet, there he sat, his expression serious and focused, delving into the information of skills he clearly didn''t possess. It was just a book of information about various skills. Reflecting on their initial encounters, Courtney recalled her initial dismissal of Nathan as just another unremarkable classmate. Despite Aiden''s attempts to label him as a nerd, Nathan displayed none of the stereotypical traits associated with such a designation. He exhibited a confidence that defied easy categorization, engaging with classmates, including girls like herself, without hesitation despite being a mob in every other ways. In hindsight, Courtney acknowledged her own role in perpetuating the false narrative surrounding Nathan. Her decision to fabricate rumors about his supposed penchant for hentai manga contributed to his ostracization by their peers. There wasn''t a clear reason for her to do that. It was just the way he spoke to her like any random girls and one day he even snapped at her even though not harshly. A simple matter of broken pencil. Any boy would have told her to not mind just for her beauty but Nathan asked for another new pencil without even thinking. A simple matter for Nathan but Courtney as a girl of the high caste of her school, it hurts a bit of her pride so she framed him a bit. Yet, despite the social stigma attached to him, Nathan didn''t alter his demeanor or attitude towards her, despite her conviction that he was aware of her complicity in his marginalization. It was like he didn''t care about it. Summoning her courage, Courtney approached Nathan. "Nathan." / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 23 Courtney After A Month (2) Chapter 23 Courtney After A Month (2) "Nathan." My focus shifted from the pages of the book to the sound of my name being called, prompting me to raise my gaze and take in the sight before me. Standing there was Courtney, her chestnut hair pulled back into a tidy ponytail, framing her features with a certain elegance. She was unmistakably beautiful, dressed in her training outfit, a clear indication that she was here to summon me for our scheduled session in the forest. It seemed that our classmates had been making significant progress, spurred on by the newfound abilities bestowed upon them through the awakening of heroes. I couldn''t help but feel a sense of admiration for the advantages this awakening offered. "Courtney, how are you?" I greeted her with a warm smile, extending my hand in a gesture of camaraderie. A faint blush tinted Courtney''s cheeks as she accepted my hand, her reaction not lost on me. With a gentle grasp, I pulled her closer, guiding her to settle onto my lap. "Hya!" As the days turned into weeks since my threat to Courtney, I found myself contemplating the consequences of my actions. Despite my initial threats, I refrained from crossing certain boundaries, never once seeking to coerce her into compromising situations or exploit her vulnerabilities for my own gain. In short, I didn''t take her virginity or make her do anything like I did with Khione. Instead, I settled for a simple yet significant gesture: a daily kiss, a symbolic token of my authority over her. It was a subtle reminder of my presence in her life, a silent assertion of my dominance. Courtney''s reaction to my restraint was palpable. She seemed genuinely taken aback by my reluctance to escalate the situation, expecting perhaps a more aggressive pursuit of my desires. Yet, contrary to her fears, I refrained from succumbing to base impulses, choosing instead to exert my influence with restraint. However, make no mistake ¨C my desires for Courtney were far from altruistic. I coveted her, yes, but I understood the delicate balance between desire and destruction. Unlike Khione, whose centuries of experience had molded her into a strong woman with a strong mind, Courtney was much younger with little experience. I did not want to break her. She wasn''t Khione, with her incredible mental resistance. With her or the other girls in my class I''m aiming for, I''ll have to play it cool. "How are you?" I murmured, my arms enveloping Courtney''s waist from behind as I nestled my head against her shoulder, inhaling the sweet fragrance that enveloped her. "F...Fine," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension. "It''s been a month, and as promised, I don''t lie," I declared, swiftly deleting the footage before her eyes and revealing the absence of any other incriminating evidence. "Well, it was good while it lasted, but now you''re free to do whatever you want. You mentioned you couldn''t find good excuses for Jason, right? Then it should be over today," I stated, purposefully letting disappointment seep into my expression. Uum... yes..." Courtney replied, her face betraying a flurry of emotions. Confusion danced across her features, masking any sense of happiness she should have felt at being released from our arrangement. Despite our brief month of closeness, the intimate talks and shared moments, Courtney couldn''t remain indifferent. Her emotions were too entangled to simply shrug off our connection. "Ha.." With a surprising kiss, I interrupted her thoughts, catching her off guard once again. "The agreement is over, but I wanted one last kiss, my apologies, Courtney," I said, a bittersweet smile playing at my lips. "I..." Courtney began, her words trailing off as she struggled to find a response. "Anyway, you''re here to call me for training, right? Let''s go," I interjected, brushing off her confusion as I made my way out, a satisfied smirk hidden beneath the surface. I may have deleted the footage, but I wasn''t naive. Despite releasing Courtney from our arrangement, I knew there was little chance she would return to Jason. In just a month, our interactions had shifted the landscape of her emotions entirely. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 24 Preparing for the Forest Training. Chapter 24 Preparing for the Forest Training. "Judging from the remarkable progress you''ve all made, we''ve decided to venture deeper into the lush green forest," Oscar announced with a smile, his words met with proud smiles from the class. Initially apprehensive and even fearful, they had witnessed firsthand the fruits of their labor and the astonishing strides they had made in their training. Now, they exuded confidence in their newfound abilities. "We owe a great deal of gratitude to Oscar and Cecilia for their guidance and support," Jason remarked, flashing a smile towards the instructors. "Your dedication has been invaluable, and we sincerely hope to continue learning from you both." As Jason''s humility washed over the room, I couldn''t help but cringe inwardly. His innate charisma, coupled with his genuine appreciation for others, seemed to emit an aura of leadership that captivated those around him. In just a month, he had effortlessly assumed the role of the unspoken leader among the heroes, garnering the allegiance of the majority of the class. The same sentiment extended beyond the classroom walls, resonating with the king, knights, and other nobles who viewed Jason with favor. His rumored connection to Princess Adelia only served to enhance his standing, painting him as the epitome of the perfect hero they had envisioned. Yet, despite his seemingly flawless facade, I saw through the veneer to the man beneath. To me, Jason was nothing more than a typical classmate with a penchant for attracting the attention of countless admirers. His skill in concealing his true intentions was commendable, but it didn''t escape my notice. Oscar''s smile lingered as he stepped aside, revealing an array of weapons and light armors meticulously arranged before us. "We''ve prepared sturdy armors tailored to fit each of your body sizes, as well as weapons suited to a range of skill levels. It''s crucial that you choose equipment that suits you best. Let''s remember not to let greed or arrogance cloud our judgment in this decision. Lives could very well depend on it." His cautionary words barely had time to settle before the class erupted into a frenzy, eagerly scrambling to inspect the offerings like children presented with a trove of new toys. While the others eagerly dove into the selection process, I hung back, observing from a distance. Only Gwen and Aisha mirrored my restraint, displaying a patience that seemed almost out of place amidst the excitement. However, I couldn''t ignore the presence of another lingering nearby. "You shouldn''t stay too close to me," I stated without turning to face Courtney. Since our arrival, Courtney had maintained a cautious distance from me, neither drawing near nor straying too far. Her demeanor betrayed a level of confusion that exceeded my expectations following our release from our arrangement. Was it due to my luck or the residual effects of Khione''s divine energy that now coursed through me, prompting Courtney to feel an inexplicable attraction? I couldn''t say for certain, but it would undoubtedly raise suspicions if she continued to linger near me. Throughout the past month, it had been common knowledge among our classmates that Courtney harbored no particular fondness for me. We had taken pains to avoid each other''s company, save for our daily kiss¡ªalbeit discreetly¡ªin secluded locations such as the library. "Y..yes.." Courtney''s response came in a hesitant stutter before she, too, joined the throng to select her armor and weapon. "You should hurry up, Nathan," a familiar voice chimed in from behind me. I glanced at Aisha. Growing closer to Aisha had been a deliberate choice on my part, as I made it a habit to leave at precisely the right time to coincide with her solo training sessions in the garden. While I could have easily taken an alternate route to avoid encountering her, I purposefully sought out these moments, cherishing them as our little secret. Remarkably, Aisha seemed unfazed by my nocturnal excursions, content to ignore my presence as long as I returned on time. Our interactions during these late-night rendezvous were brief, consisting of little more than greetings and casual conversation. I couldn''t say for certain whether Aisha fully understood the nature of my nighttime activities. Perhaps she believed I was genuinely dedicating myself to training alone, oblivious to the fact that I was concealing my true progress from everyone, including Oscar and Cecilia. So I''m quite sure that even Aisha didn''t notice the significant strides I was making with each passing day and that fact was sure making her curious and confused about what the hell I could be doing. Her restraint in refraining from prying into my affairs only added to her endearing qualities, demonstrating a level of respect and trust that I found quite cute. "I just realized I couldn''t afford to remain weak while everyone else is fighting for the future. I''ll start now," I explained to the teacher. "But..." Amelia was still concerned. "Don''t worry, Professor, I''ll stick close to you so you can protect me," I reassured her with a smile, quickly easing her worries. "What a lazy student I have," Amelia laughed, seemingly mollified by my assurance. Of course, it was all a lie. I had no intention of staying behind. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 25 Choosing a Good Weapon Chapter 25 Choosing a Good Weapon "Hero Nathan?" Oscar''s voice cut through my contemplation as I surveyed the array of weapons before me. While I had already settled on a light armor that wouldn''t impede my movements, I found myself hesitating when it came to choosing a weapon. I turned to face him. "What?" "What are you doing?" he inquired, clearly taken aback by my presence in the armory. "Isn''t it obvious? I''m selecting a weapon," I replied, puzzled by his question. "That''s not what I meant. Why are you picking a weapon?" Oscar pressed further, his confusion evident. His question didn''t surprise me. After all, I had been absent from most of his training sessions, and when I did participate, my lackluster performance hardly inspired confidence. But my reasons were my own, driven by a desire to monitor the progress of certain individuals¡ªJason, Aiden, and Sienna, to name a few. "Because I need a weapon to fend off monsters," I replied matter-of-factly, hoping to quell any further inquiries. Oscar''s shock was palpable as he processed the implications of my words. "You''re coming with us?" he asked incredulously. "Yes." "We''re venturing deeper into the forest. It could be dangerous," Oscar began, his initial concern evident in his tone. However, his expression quickly shifted, morphing into a facade of satisfaction. "Actually, this is very good. I''m pleased that Hero Nathan has finally recognized the importance of training and the looming dangers ahead." Despite his words, his smile seemed tinged with insincerity, a telltale sign of his underlying motives. If I had to hazard a guess, he saw this as an opportunity to rid himself of my presence in the forest. Whether he intended to do so himself or simply leave me to fend for myself against formidable monsters remained to be seen. I knew all too well of Oscar''s disdain towards me, a sentiment that Khione had confirmed through her own observations. He had been undermining me to the emperor and other nobles for some time now, harboring a deep-seated animosity that bordered on hostility. "Then, could you help me choose a weapon?" I asked, mustering a polite smile despite my misgivings. "Of course," Oscar replied, his smile suddenly benevolent in a way I had never seen before. It was clear that he knew how to put on a convincing act. Approaching the display of weapons, Oscar began to assess their suitability, testing each one with practiced ease. I couldn''t help but wonder if he would genuinely select a suitable weapon for me or if his intentions were less altruistic. "What level are you?" he inquired, his tone lacking genuine interest. "Twenty-one," I replied. But she wasn''t the only one who seemed a little lost. To my right, a blonde beauty stood motionless in front of the weapons. It was Gwen. She seemed deep in thought, clearly unsure of what to choose. "Do you need any help, Gwen?" I asked, trying to sound helpful. "No," she replied curtly, not even glancing in my direction. "Should I call Oscar to help you?" I offered, hoping to lighten the mood. This time, her face twisted into a look of disgust as she turned to face me. "I said no. Just take care of your own business." Her revulsion was clearly aimed at Oscar, who had been trying to seduce her since day one, with no success. I knew Gwen well enough to know that even Jason didn''t stand a chance with her. Her standards were incredibly high, and for some reason, my luck didn''t seem to work as well on her as it did on others. Still, I genuinely liked her and wanted to help. I glanced around at the array of weapons before picking up a staff and handing it to her. "This one is good." "I said I don''t need¡ª" "Yes, but I suggest you take a look at least," I insisted, pressing the staff into her hands before walking away. Gwen stared after me, the staff now in her grasp, and I could only hope she would give it a chance. Even though the probability of her dying was very low since she was very strong there was still a low probability she met a monster stronger than her. And I didn''t want her to die, it would be such a pity for such a beautiful and smart girl to die. / / / Chapter 26 Worried Stepsisters and Groups Chapter 26 Worried Stepsisters and Groups "You shouldn''t go," Sienna, my older stepsister, said unexpectedly, her voice laced with concern as she approached me. "Why not?" I asked, adjusting the cumbersome armor that felt more like a hindrance than protection. It was supposed to safeguard me, but honestly, I didn''t need it, especially not this low-level stuff. I was wearing it mainly to appease our teacher and ease her worries, though it seemed to have no effect on Sienna. "It''s dangerous this time. You''ve never joined us in fighting monsters before," Sienna pointed out, her worry evident. "There''s a first time for everything. I can''t just hide inside the castle forever while everyone else is out there fighting," I replied, fastening my sword to my waist belt. That line was something I borrowed straight from Jason. "You don''t understand the danger ahead. If you want to fight, you should start slowly by joining the training sessions first, not by jumping straight into monster battles. We''re going deeper into the Green Forest this time," Sienna explained, her eyes pleading. I sighed, puzzled by her persistence. "I don''t get why you''re trying to stop me, Sienna. I have the right to do what I want, don''t I?" I asked, pretending to be oblivious, though I knew she was just worried. I wanted to gauge the depth of her concern. Sienna''s expression turned upset "I''m doing this because I care about you. You''re still my stepbrother, and that doesn''t change just because we''re in another world." "Is that really what you think, Sienna? It''s been three years since we became step-siblings, but I don''t remember you ever showing this much concern for me before. Don''t feel obliged to worry," I said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You talk too much for no reason, Nathan." Siara, my younger stepsister, joined us, her expression a mix of anger and frustration. "Sienna is just worried about you. You don''t need to be so defensive." "I''m not upset, Siara. I just don''t like pretending. What about you? Are you worried?" I asked, turning my attention to her. "Yes, I am. Even if we don''t show it, we''ve lived together for three years," she replied, crossing her arms. "And think about your father. When we get back to Earth, he''ll want to see you alive too." I couldn''t help but laugh. Siara frowned, clearly annoyed, but I wasn''t laughing at her. It was just... "My father? I can assure you he doesn''t care whether I''m dead or alive," I said, shocking both Sienna and Siara. They stood there, speechless, so I took the opportunity to step closer to Sienna and gently hugged her. Sienna flinched slightly as I wrapped my arms around her waist, but I held her close, trying to convey what words couldn''t. Aiden went with his own group, while Aisha and Gwen paired up. Sienna, being the oldest, took charge of another group. She had been dragged into this summoning, but she was part of the class now. I noticed Courtney''s indecision about which group to join, but I ignored it. She seemed torn between joining Jason''s group again or finding another, eventually deciding to join Sienna''s group. I waited until everyone had chosen a group before starting to walk off alone. "Where are you going alone, Nathan?" Amelia Carter, our teacher, called out, not letting me slip away unnoticed. "Training to fight monsters, teacher," I replied. "You can''t go alone," Amelia said, shaking her head firmly. "Then you can accompany me?" I suggested. "Euh..." Amelia looked surprised by my proposal. She glanced around and saw that all the other students were already with their groups, leaving only a few knights and Oscar nearby. Cecilia had joined Jason''s group, likely to protect the strongest hero, probably under orders from the Emperor. "I will accompany you too," Oscar spoke up, stepping forward. A pity. I had originally planned to take advantage of being alone with Amelia to completely conquer her body and soul. But now, with Oscar tagging along, a new plan began to form in my mind. Wait, maybe this is even better? I had been looking for a way to get rid of Oscar for a while now. This could be the perfect opportunity. If everything went smoothly, I could kill two birds with one stone. I will have to be careful to not get caught but once it''s over, one annoyance would be erased. And then, I could enjoy her. I smirked inwardly at the thought. Time to conquer my beautiful teacher. Chapter 27 [Eye of Odin] Chapter 27 [Eye of Odin] As we made our way deeper into the forest, I walked slightly ahead, scanning the surroundings while subtly leading us off the main path. The dense foliage and the eerie silence of the forest provided the perfect cover for my plans. Oscar, ever vigilant, was on high alert, his eyes darting around for any sign of danger. Amelia, on the other hand, seemed more focused on me, her concern evident in her eyes. I could use that to my advantage. "Stay close, Nathan," Amelia said, her voice soft but firm. "This part of the forest can be dangerous." I nodded, slowing my pace so that she and Oscar could catch up. "I know, teacher. That''s why I asked you to come with me. I feel safer with you around." She smiled, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Just be careful." "Don''t worry, Lady Amelia. As long as I''m here, nothing bad will happen," Oscar assured her with a bright smile. Despite his obvious interest in Gwen, Oscar had a fondness for Amelia as well. From what Khione had told me, the King''s directives encouraged many to seek marriages and children with the Heroes, especially the strongest among us. Amelia had firmly told them to stop pestering us about marriage, but some persisted in secret. I was fairly certain that several of my classmates had already engaged in intimate relations, particularly the boys with maids. During my late-night outings for training, I occasionally noticed maids slipping into the rooms of my classmates, likely sent under the emperor''s orders to ensure the continuation of the Heroes'' bloodline. I wasn''t particularly disgusted by this arrangement. As long as they didn''t interfere with my plans or target the women I was interested in, I didn''t care. Otherwise, I would have to intervene, much like I was doing with Amelia, who, from my perspective, seemed the easiest to manipulate. Not that she was an easy woman by any means. It had taken a month of strategic conversations, sweet words, ''accidental'' touches, and carefully orchestrated moments to make her start seeing me as a man rather than just a student. She would have directly rejected me after a few days if not for my Luck too. My concern wasn''t about her being swayed easily, but rather about her relenting and going along with the pressures to spare us students. I could already imagine the Emperor pressuring us to have children. I could see Amelia offering herself, which I wouldn''t accept. "Thanks. It''s reassuring," Amelia said with a smile. "We have until tomorrow afternoon. Let''s make sure Hero Nathan gains at least ten levels," Oscar added with a seemingly kind look. No need to act, Oscar. I know very well you intend to get rid of me one way or another tonight. "Watch out!" Amelia shouted, summoning an earth barrier in front of us. When I told Khione what happened, even she couldn''t believe it. I could still picture her shocked face. Obtaining skills through fighting and training was extremely rare. Most people didn''t bother with it, preferring to look for skill books instead. This reliance on luck made the process even more complicated in this world. In any case, I had been very lucky to get an SSS Skill. Even with over 10,000 luck points, I hadn''t obtained any other SSS or SS skills. It seemed impossible no matter how many SSS skill books I studied. So, I didn''t waste time and lowered my greed to "lower" skills. Well, I wasn''t disappointed at all though. [Eye of Odin] was the skill I was most proud of and, to me, the strongest. I looked at Oscar as my right eye flashed gold for a moment. I saw it. Oscar. Level 87. Unfortunately, probably because I was still too "weak," I couldn''t see more. I expected to see more information as I grew stronger. Also, if Oscar was too strong¡ªmeaning the margin between our levels was too wide¡ªI wouldn''t have been able to see his level at all. If I could see a level correctly, it meant the person was either weaker, around the same, or just a little stronger than me. I glanced at my own level. Nathan Parker. Level 72. Yeah, I had become a lot stronger, but not as much as anyone might think, even with a cheat Goddess. And yes, I could have easily farmed more levels if I wanted to, but I didn''t. Why? What''s better: being overwhelmingly stronger than my classmates with few skills or being still stronger than my classmates and having more skills in my arsenal? I made my choice and willingly neglected my physical training, spending more time in the library to get the maximum number of skills possible using the biggest advantage I had in the castle: free and 24-hour access to the library. I couldn''t waste this chance, especially considering the possibility that I might have to escape the Empire. Chapter 28 Oscars Trap... Chapter 28 Oscar''s Trap... I couldn''t waste this chance, especially considering the possibility that I might have to escape the Empire. I was in more danger than I had expected, so I had better use this place to its fullest while I still had the freedom to move around. In the end, I couldn''t avoid the looming threat. If Oscar decided to kill me, he must have already obtained the king''s agreement despite Khione''s warnings. They probably thought Khione wouldn''t care if a weak hero died, but they didn''t know her life was connected to mine. Still, they were daring enough to risk angering a goddess by killing me. Their fear of losing a hero to the Demon King or other enemies was understandable, especially considering what I had learned from Khione about the previous heroes and the Demon King. Understanding their fear didn''t mean I''d be lenient. "Now! Hero Nathan! I have immobilized its movements! You can deal the final blow!" Oscar said, his sword embedded in the beast without delivering a killing strike. How kind of him. He was playing his role well with Amelia around, making sure she witnessed his "support." I raised my sword and plunged it deeper into the monster''s head, killing it instantly. Particles of light escaped from the monster''s body, enveloping me in a glow. I felt a rush of exhilaration as the particles of light entered my body and absorbed what we could call XP if it was a game but I would say life energy was a better word which makes one stronger. I could see Oscar watching me with a fake smile, his eyes betraying his true intentions. Amelia approached. "Are you alright, Nathan?" "I''m fine," I replied with a reassuring smile. "Thanks to Oscar''s help I have leveled up too." It was true. I''m now level 73 since I needed just a few Xp to level up. Oscar gave a bow. "Just doing my duty, Hero Nathan." "You did very well for your first time, Nathan," Amelia said, a hint of surprise in her voice. I knew that for most, killing a living being for the first time, even a monster, was difficult. Even prodigies like Jason, Aiden, my elder stepsister, Aisha, or Gwen had struggled. But for me, it had become much easier since I started spending time with Khione. "Well, I thought about it for a long time," I said, offering an excuse as we advanced deeper into the forest. Over the next few hours, Oscar continued to let me deliver the final blows to the beasts he had weakened. It was almost laughable how different his treatment was compared to the past month. He likely saw it as a final gift before he attempted to get rid of me. I wasn''t complaining, though. I accepted the gift with a smile, finishing off the beasts one by one. The monsters we encountered were still within a manageable range for both Oscar and me. The strongest we faced was a level 43 beast, which posed little challenge. Despite Oscar''s pretense, I knew he was waiting for the right moment. His actions were too calculated, too deliberate. He was biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. But so was I. "Well done, Nathan," Amelia said, genuinely impressed. "Thank you, professor, for protecting me once again," I replied, glancing at Amelia. "And you too, Lord Oscar," I added with a smile. "That was a good strike, Hero Nathan," Oscar''s smile was strained, his plan foiled for now. "We should rest now, it''s already night," Amelia proposed, looking at the sky darkening. "Yes, I know a good place to camp not far from here, just a few minutes of walk. Follow me," Oscar recovered quickly, his smile looking more genuine as he walked ahead. "You are very knowledgeable about this forest, Lord Oscar," Amelia chuckled as she followed him. I trailed behind them, maintaining my own smile. It seemed the time had come. I wasn''t naive enough to think Oscar would lead us to a safe place to rest. He was guiding us to a place where he could dispose of me. We walked in silence, the forest growing darker and more foreboding with each step. The atmosphere was tense, charged with unspoken intentions. I kept my senses sharp, ready for anything that might have been prepared against me in advance by Oscar. After a few minutes, we arrived at a small clearing. It was a seemingly perfect campsite, surrounded by thick trees and with a small stream nearby. Oscar stopped and turned to us. "This is the place. We''ll set up camp here for the night," he announced, his eyes flicking to me briefly. Amelia nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you, Lord Oscar. This place looks perfect." She was too naive and too kind for her own good but that''s exactly why I wanted her with me. As we began setting up our camp, I stayed alert, watching Oscar''s every move. He was too calm, too collected. He was waiting for the right moment to strike. I didn''t think he prepared any traps but I wanted to be on my guard just in case. He knew this forest better than me after all. Once the camp was set up and we began to relax, Oscar approached me. "Nathan, why don''t you gather some firewood? It''ll give you a chance to stretch your legs and get a feel for the area." / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 29 Oscars Trap (2) Chapter 29 Oscar''s Trap (2) "Nathan, why don''t you gather some firewood? It''ll give you a chance to stretch your legs and get a feel for the area." Follow the latest novels at novelhall.com I nodded, pretending to be oblivious to his true intentions. "Sure, Lord Oscar. I''ll be right back." "But it''s dangerous for Nathan to go alone...I will go.." "Don''t worry Amelia. This place is a safe place. I have already verified and killed the monsters around," Oscar said. "Yes, don''t worry teacher," I also added before leaving. I ventured into the forest, keeping my senses sharp. I knew Oscar would follow me soon, probably under the pretense of helping or checking on me. As I moved deeper into the woods, I made sure to leave a clear trail behind. After a few minutes, I heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind me. I continued gathering firewood, waiting for him to make his move. "Nathan," Oscar called out, his voice echoing in the quiet forest. I turned to face him, keeping my expression neutral. "Yes, Lord Oscar?" He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with malice. "You''ve improved quite a bit, but I''m afraid this is as far as you go." I dropped the firewood, turning my head. "What do you mean?" Oscar sighed in disappointment. "You chose to change too late, unfortunately, Hero Nathan. It''s a royal order. We can''t let a weak Hero fall into the hands of the enemy." "Enemy? Well, demons have done nothing to me though?" I said, raising a brow. "I never wanted to fight them in the first place." "What?" Oscar narrowed his eyes coldly. I shrugged my shoulders. "That idiot you''re revering as the greatest Hero, Jason, might be killing demons for you because he''s stupid and wants to impress women, but that only applies to idiots like him and Aiden." Oscar''s expression hardened. Two weeks ago, my class finally met demons face-to-face during a forest trip. They were clearly spies sent to the Empire since demons in a human empire would be killed on sight. When they came back from that trip, a lot of them had pale faces, while others were neutral. People like Aiden were grinning with blood on their clothes. Clearly not beasts'' blood. I remembered that day vividly. Jason and Aiden didn''t hesitate to take the life of humanoid beings. They were eager to show their strength, and others followed their lead, killing the demons without hesitation. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Oscar was an extraordinarily talented man. Raised as a simple noble, he was born with a natural aptitude that set him apart from others. His father, recognizing this talent, provided him with everything he needed to progress rapidly. Thanks to this support, Oscar quickly grew strong. His exceptional abilities soon caught the attention of the Empire''s high nobles, who decided to assist him further, helping him become even more powerful. Within a few years, Oscar was accepted into the ranks of the Knights of the royal castle. His prowess was so remarkable that even the Goddess, who had been supporting the Empire for centuries, acknowledged him. Then, the Heroes were summoned. They were brought forth to answer the threats from other countries and to ultimately destroy the Demon King. Initially, Oscar was pleased to be chosen as their instructor. But as he observed their incredible progress, he began to worry. Jason, in particular, was advancing at an astonishing pace, nearly matching Oscar''s level of strength. Though Oscar was still stronger for now, he couldn''t help but wonder how long it would last. What if, once the Heroes surpassed him, they decided he was no longer needed? What if he lost all his privileges? This was a fate Oscar could not accept. To secure his position, he needed to climb even higher, and the only way to do that was to forge a close relationship with one of the Heroes. From the very first day, Oscar had his eye on Gwen, but Amelia, their teacher, seemed the easiest. He didn''t know why but Gwen hated him and it was like she could see right through his intentions so he chose Amelia. Moreover, Amelia was a subtle thorn in the Emperor''s side, and Oscar was well aware of it. Amelia was untouchable. She had the respect of all her class, the Heroes, and wasn''t shy about voicing her opinions or defending her students. She often showed an overprotectiveness, particularly towards Nathan. But what if he managed to control Amelia? She was the one Hero that everyone else revered and rarely contradicted. The most liked among them all. If Oscar could gain influence over her, the Emperor and perhaps even the Goddess would reward him greatly. With Amelia under his control, he would wield significant power. Oscar didn''t care how he achieved it, whether through patience or force. He just needed to bind her to him. Oscar was more determined than ever today. He had slipped a potent sleeping pill into Amelia''s drink, laced with a special ingredient that he had procured at great expense, almost exhausting his entire savings. But to him, it was worth it. This pill was designed to excite a woman''s hormones, making her more susceptible to his advances. Amelia lay on a makeshift bed of sheets spread on the ground, the campfire casting a warm glow on her beautiful, sweat-dappled face. Her expression was flushed, and she seemed to be struggling in her sleep, her legs rubbing together as if seeking some relief. "Mnn~" she moaned softly, lost in the haze of the drug-induced slumber. Oscar felt a surge of excitement as he knelt beside her. Reaching out with trembling hands, he slowly lowered her pants, revealing her panties, which were damp with her arousal. The pill was working perfectly. Seeing this, Oscar couldn''t contain himself any longer. He quickly unclasped his belt, his mind racing with anticipation. Even though she was unconscious, he felt no remorse. In fact, it was her helpless state that emboldened him, knowing she would never consent to this while awake. As for the aftermath, he had already concocted a story. He would claim that she had thrown herself at him in a moment of passion. And in the best-case scenario, he would impregnate her tonight. Knowing Amelia, he was confident that she would keep the child, and then she would have no choice but to accept him in her life. "What are you doing Oscar?" Oscar''s whole body froze when he heard a voice from behind. Chapter 30 Tasting The Teacher * Chapter 30 Tasting The Teacher * "What are you doing Oscar?" When I asked, Oscar flinched. He slowly turned around, his eyes widening in shock when he saw me. "W...what?" He couldn''t comprehend what was happening. "What were you going to do to my teacher when she belongs to me?" I said coldly, and with a swift motion, I threw a knife at high speed. Oscar didn''t even have time to react. The knife pierced just below his heart. "Gua! How?!" he gasped, clutching his chest and staggering backward, glaring at me with a mixture of pain and confusion. "How what?" "You should be dead! Guhaaa!" he spat, blood dribbling from his mouth. "Oh, the beasts you mean. I killed them. They weren''t that strong, so it was pretty easy," I replied with a smile as I approached him, my eyes locked onto his. "I...Impossible, you are just..." Bang! Before he could finish, I delivered a punch to his face, sending him flying into a tree with a resounding crash. Oscar spat even more blood, his face now a mask of shock and fear. He had clearly underestimated my speed and the power behind my strike. He tried to stand up, but I was quicker. I appeared in front of him and kicked the knife still embedded in his chest, driving it deeper. "Guaaaaaa!!!" Oscar screamed in agony before losing consciousness. Grabbing him by the neck, I flung his limp body away. He would be dealt with later. First, I needed to tend to my teacher, who seemed to be in a strange state. I knelt beside her, noting her flushed face and the way she struggled in her sleep, her legs rubbing together restlessly. The firelight danced over her features, highlighting the sweat on her brow. She moaned softly, her body reacting to the effects whatever Oscar had given her. Her thick thighs enveloped the sides of my head, drawing me closer to her dripping pussy, yet I remained undeterred, continuing to lap at her with fervor. "Hnnn! Noooo~~~N..Nathan...." Her murmurs of my name fell upon deaf ears as I focused solely on my task, a self-satisfied smirk playing at the corners of my lips. This wasn''t the first time I had sensed her carnal desires for me. A month of constant interaction had gradually stirred her fantasies, bringing her to this feverish state of arousal. Try as she might to suppress her urges and erase the lascivious dreams she harbored about her student, resistance proved futile. Initially, she may have dismissed the odd sensations she felt in my presence, attributing them to mere coincidence. But her mistake lay in underestimating the potent allure between us, allowing herself to succumb to the irresistible pull of attraction. I observed her futile attempts to avoid me, yet my relentless pursuit ensured our paths crossed time and again. Resistance crumbled as her emotions for me intensified, her dreams growing increasingly explicit with each passing day. "You''re soaking wet, teacher," I murmured, punctuating my words with another deliberate lick before directing my attention to her throbbing clitoris. "W..we can''t...hnnn~~...N..Nathanaaaaaaahnnn??!" As I fervently licked and teased her clit with my tongue, her voice echoed loudly in the forest, calling out my name as she reached her climax. Her body convulsed, and a gush of her sweet juices splattered across my face. "Haaaaaa.....??" Her prolonged moan filled the air as she sank back, her love nectar continuing to flow freely. With a chuckle, I savored the taste of her essence before licking my lips clean. Rising to my feet, I surveyed the scene with satisfaction, taking in the sight of my beautiful teacher, her half-naked form trembling, her pussy still twitching from the lingering sensations of pleasure. The urge to pound my dick right away in her twitching pussy crossed my mind, but I resisted. I wanted her to be awake for that moment. She was someone I truly loved after all. Ironically, such a scenario hadn''t been part of my initial plan. I glanced at Oscar, who lay defeated on the ground, and couldn''t help but smile. Whatever he had given her had worked wonders, and conveniently, in my favor. Sliding her panties back into place and carefully adjusting her clothing, I positioned her as she had been before. She would surely be in for a surprise when she woke up feeling wet below. Now, I needed to deal with Oscar, and I already had a plan in mind. Chapter 31 The Next Morning with the Teacher Chapter 31 The Next Morning with the Teacher It was a bright morning, with gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the dense canopy of trees. "Nnnn..." Amelia''s green eyes fluttered open groggily. A massive headache pounded in her temples, and she felt as if she had been asleep for a week. Despite the fatigue weighing her down, she slowly raised her body, holding her head in her hands. She glanced around, noting the unusual calmness of her surroundings. As her thoughts began to clear, a sense of panic set in. "N...Nathan?" she called out, her voice tinged with worry. "Nathan!" she repeated more urgently, standing up and scanning the area. The spot where Nathan should have been sleeping was empty. "Lord Oscar?!" she called, but there was no response from him either. Ne/w novel chapters are published at novelhall.comelia tried hard to recall what had happened. Bits and pieces of memory floated back: Nathan had gone to collect firewood, and Oscar had urged her to rest. She remembered drinking something and then falling asleep. The last image in her mind was of Oscar smirking, but she couldn''t be sure if it was real or just a hallucination brought exhaustion. Uneasiness gripped Amelia as she noticed both Oscar''s and Nathan''s belongings still scattered on the ground. She feared something had happened to them. Grabbing her sword, she quickly prepared to search for them. "Teacher?" Amelia flinched at the sound of a voice behind her, but relief washed over her when she saw it was Nathan. "Nathan!" she exclaimed, rushing over to him. She checked him over quickly. He had a few bruises and his clothes were dirty, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. "You woke up late, teacher," Nathan said. "I... I know. I''m sorry. But can you tell me what happened? Where is Oscar?" Amelia asked urgently. Nathan shook his head. "I don''t know. When I woke up, he was already gone. I went to look for him but couldn''t find him." "You should have woken me up! Going alone was dangerous, Nathan!" Amelia scolded, her concern evident. "I know, but you were sleeping so peacefully. I didn''t want to disturb you," Nathan replied, causing Amelia to blush slightly. She felt embarrassed for having slept longer than her student, especially when she was supposed to be the one protecting him. "Are you okay, Ms. Carter?" Nathan asked worriedly, reaching out to touch Amelia''s face. "Haa!" Amelia gasped, feeling a sudden, intense reaction in her lower body. With a pale face, she realized she was uncomfortably wet below. It didn''t take much to understand what had happened. What made it worse was remembering the very lewd dream she had¡ªone involving her and Nathan, her student. Nathan plunged his hand into the water and cupped some of it. "It looks really clean, professor," he said before taking a sip. "And it tastes good too, I guess?" "Yes, it seems so," Amelia agreed, checking the water herself. Satisfied, she put down her bag. "What are you doing, teacher?" Nathan asked. "I''m going to freshen up a bit. Can you stay here and watch over my things until I''m done? After I finish, you can take a quick wash too," Amelia said, setting down her sword. "Teacher, I don''t think this is a good idea," Nathan said apprehensively. "What is it, Nathan?" Amelia asked, confused. "If you leave, I can''t know if something happens to you, and you won''t know if I''m attacked by a beast," Nathan explained. "You''re right, but..." "Oscar might have been attacked by a stronger monster, even for him. If that monster finds me or you, it will be over, wouldn''t it?" Nathan said. Amelia''s expression turned uneasy at the worst-case scenario Nathan described. The prospect of a monster capable of taking on Oscar reaching them weighed heavily on her mind. "I would probably die without being able to do anything. I know I''m being a burden... I''m sorry," Nathan said, his face filled with guilt. "N... No, you shouldn''t feel that way, Nathan," Amelia quickly shook her head. "Y... you''re right. I can''t leave you alone here." "Professor, if you don''t mind, I have an idea," Nathan said hesitantly. "Yes?" "How about we take the ''bath'' at the same time?" Amelia''s eyes widened in shock. "I think it''s better and safer if we stay close. We will both be at ease," Nathan explained. Amelia''s eyes turned stern. "Nathan, we can¡ª" "Of course, we won''t see each other. We just have to do our things with our backs facing each other," Nathan quickly added before Amelia could refuse directly. It eased Amelia a little, but she still wore a complicated expression. Normally, in such extreme situations of danger, she would have accepted Nathan''s proposal. However, she feared that being naked with him could stir up more unwanted reactions. After all, her primary goal was to wash away these troubling thoughts. "I... If you don''t want to, it''s okay, teacher," Nathan forced a smile. "I... I''ll just improvise something if monsters come for me," he added, scratching his head with a tone that lacked confidence. Amelia looked at Nathan bitterly. She felt guilty seeing how she was putting Nathan in such a dangerous spot because of her own problems. ''Get it together, Amelia!'' She mentally slapped herself. Her student could be in danger, and she was preoccupied with something so trivial. Biting her lip, she resolved to handle the situation somehow. "No, I''m sorry, Nathan. You''re right. We should stay together until we leave this dangerous area," she said, retrieving her bag and sword to find a suitable spot. As she turned around, she failed to notice the smirk on Nathan''s face. Chapter 32 [Deep Voice] Chapter 32 [Deep Voice] "No looking back, understood?" Amelia said, her gaze stern. "Absolutely not," I replied with a smile. Well, teacher, I''ve already seen something even better from you. Your aroused figure, your hungry pussy leaking hot juices that I''ve even tasted. "Then you should go ahead," she said, knowing that if I came after her, I could see her clearly naked. The only parts I hadn''t seen yet were her upper body, especially her bare breasts, but I knew it was only a matter of time. Patience was key, though I had to admit it was difficult to restrain myself after yesterday. "Yes," I nodded and began removing my clothes. Amelia turned away, giving me some privacy. Once I had taken off all my clothes, I slowly waded into the pond. The water wasn''t cold at all; instead, it was pleasantly warm. I felt my muscles relax as the water enveloped me, washing away not only the grime but also the accumulated stress. I was quite anxious when it came time to deal with Oscar. First of all, he was incredibly strong. I knew I had to catch him off guard to take him down without getting hurt myself. This was a risky move because he was a few levels higher than me. I remained extremely cautious throughout the ordeal, but in the end, I managed to knock him out. However, that was only the beginning of my troubles. Secondly, Oscar was a highly valuable asset to the Empire of Light, as Khione had informed me. If he were to die, it would draw a lot of attention, and the higher-ups of the Empire¡ªthe true rulers¡ªmight take action. When I mentioned my plan to kill Oscar to Khione, she seriously advised me against doing anything to him or Cecilia. According to her, they were both groomed by these higher-ups, who were extremely dangerous and the most powerful in the Empire. These higher-ups only appeared when absolutely necessary and obeyed only Khione, the Goddess. None of us had met them yet, as they preferred to remain hidden and unnoticed. In fact, no one was supposed to be aware of their existence. I knew about them only because Khione had confided in me, and aside from me, Amelia was the only one who had met them. Khione had shared this information with me as well. Jason might be the leader of the Heroes, but Amelia was the teacher to all the Heroes. Because of her role, the Emperor and the others considered her the true leader. This was why the higher-ups had chosen to speak with Amelia directly. In any case, Khione didn''t want me to kill Oscar because it would draw the higher-ups out of hiding to investigate. Oscar was stronger than all the Heroes, and his death would arouse intense suspicion. One whiff of doubt among the Heroes, and the higher-ups could use extreme measures to find the culprit, Hero or not. They were that cautious and protective of their assets. That''s also why I didn''t ask Khione to use her influence to kill Oscar. Doing so might cause her to lose the trust of those higher-ups, which was not what I wanted. So, I decided to take care of him myself. But now it was done. Despite Khione''s warnings, I went through with it because I wanted those higher-ups to emerge so I could see and assess them. It was a dangerous gamble, but I felt it was necessary. Upstodatee from Still, those higher-ups were truly a bunch of bastards. They were incredibly strong yet rarely participated in fights against the Demons. The Demon King must have been that formidable to warrant such caution. The only thing I knew for certain was that these higher-ups were far stronger and more dangerous than Oscar, which meant I was currently weaker than them. The Forbidden Seal was my last resort, but it could only be used once at a time, and I had no intention of using it on them. For now, they weren''t suspicious of me, and Khione was subtly watching my back without revealing too much of our connection. But how long would this balance last? Not long. Amelia''s body trembled slightly at my words, seeming to be more affected than she should have been. [Deep Voice] Of course, it was because I had activated my C-rank Skill from the moment I began speaking to her. In her vulnerable state, especially after whatever Oscar had given her and the aftermath of a wet dream about me, my words held an unexpected sway. It was impossible for her to fight back. My touch and words were addicting at this point for her. "I... I can''t..." Amelia shook her head, her resolve faltering. "I know, teacher, that you''ve been holding back your fear and emotions because you felt responsible as a teacher and believed you needed to be strong. But you don''t have to be like that with me," I said tenderly, reaching out to grasp her hand underwater, offering her reassurance and support. "N...No... I... hnnn~" she struggled to respond, her voice trailing off as I silenced her with a gentle kiss on her neck, closing the gap between us until my chest lightly pressed against her shoulder. "Haa..." a soft sigh escaped her lips, her body reacting to my touch with a noticeable warmth. "Tell me, teacher..." I murmured, my lips grazing against her earlobe before trailing down to place tender kisses along her jawline, guiding her head gently to meet my gaze. Her emerald eyes shimmered with moisture. And then, our lips met in a hesitant, yet achingly sweet kiss. I kissed her with a tenderness born of longing, feeling her initial hesitation gradually melt away as our lips moved in sync, conveying emotions too complex for words. But the moment was fleeting. "No! We can''t! N...Nathan!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with urgency as she pushed me away, hastily retreating from the pond and wrapping herself in a towel. I was about to run and grasp her arm to play another dramatic speech since it was now or never to break through her heart since she was in her moist vulnerable state but I stopped myself feeling something. SPLAAAASH! An explosion shattered the tranquility of the moment, sending ripples across the water''s surface. Amelia turned back, her eyes widening in horror as she saw me facing off against a monstrous sea serpent, its imposing form coiled and ready to strike. "N...NATHANNNN!!!!" her scream pierced the air, but my focus remained fixed on the looming threat before me. LEVEL 46 "You arrived at the perfect moment," I muttered, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. What better than an antagonist to make the girl fall in love with the boy? / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 33 Eating My Teacher (1) Chapter 33 Eating My Teacher (1) * Now, that sea snake. Defeating it would be easy for me, but how could I do so without revealing too much of my abilities to Amelia? The snake twisted its long, scaly body and suddenly surged toward me, its eyes gleaming with predatory intent. But just then, a solid wall of earth rose up between us, blocking the snake''s attack. "C-Come out!" Amelia''s voice trembled with urgency. The snake, undeterred, struck the barrier fiercely before launching itself at me again, jaws wide open. Without hesitation, I plunged into the water, feeling the cold rush over me as the snake followed closely, its sleek form cutting through the water with ease. "Nathan!!" Amelia''s shout echoed, but I ignored it, focusing on swimming deeper and putting distance between us. Once I was far enough from Amelia, I turned around, a confident smile spreading across my face. I ceased my forward motion, letting my legs keep me suspended in the water. The snake halted as well, its eyes narrowing as if in mockery, almost as if it were smirking. With a thunderous roar, it charged at me. I waited, timing it perfectly, and at the last possible moment, I moved swiftly upward, evading its attack and positioning myself right above its head. When the snake realized I was gripping its head, it roared again and thrashed wildly. However, its efforts were futile; I was far stronger. Suddenly, something obstructed our path. An earthen barrier appeared, only to dissolve into mud underwater. I barely paid it any attention. Are you kidding me? I turned to see Amelia had joined me underwater. Her skill was rendered useless here. What is she thinking? Catching sight of her worried eyes, I stifled a smile. In that critical moment, I tightened my grip on the snake''s head, my fingers digging so deeply into its flesh that it roared in pain. With a sudden, powerful leap, it propelled us out of the water. This woman. The snake, furious, charged at Amelia with incredible speed. She was clearly unable to evade it. In that critical moment, I tightened my grip on the snake''s head, my fingers digging so deeply into its flesh that it roared in pain. With a sudden, powerful leap, it propelled us out of the water. We were now several meters above the ground. "Life is very short, and since we are in this world now, we can die at any time," I said softly, my words weighted with the gravity of our mortality. "N... No, Nathan, listen..." Amelia''s voice wavered, her hands resting tentatively on my chest as if to create a barrier between us. "N..Nathan?" Her surprise was palpable as she found herself still nestled against me. Ignoring her attempt to distance herself, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer, and captured her lips in a firm, demanding kiss. "Hmmn!!" Her initial resistance gave way to a gasp of surprise. Breaking the kiss, I held her gaze, my expression serious. "You are not my teacher right now. You are Amelia, and I am Nathan." Before she could protest, I claimed her lips once more, my hunger for her evident in the urgency of my kiss. I pressed her body firmly against mine, relishing the feel of her curves against my chest, the towel doing little to conceal the warmth and softness beneath. "Hnn~~~" Her feeble attempt to push me away only fueled my desire. I could sense her hesitation, her internal struggle to maintain her role as my teacher, but the pull between us was undeniable, irresistible. I marveled at her resilience, her unwavering commitment to her professional boundaries. But in this moment, her resolve was faltering, her body betraying her true desires. With a firm grip on her waist, I smoothly maneuvered her beneath me, positioning myself above her as our gazes locked. "N..Nathan..please..." Amelia''s voice trembled with a mix of shock and pleading, her eyes beseeching me to reconsider. To spare her from the precipice of desire. To shield her from the potential consequences of our forbidden attraction. "You will always be my teacher, Amelia," I murmured into her ear, a mischievous grin playing on my lips. "That doesn''t have to change. But with me..." I teased her earlobe with a flick of my tongue, eliciting a soft gasp from her. "Be yourself." A deeper shade of crimson flooded her cheeks, betraying the intensity of her emotions. Mission accomplished. Seizing the moment, I claimed her lips in another kiss, this time with an even greater sense of urgency and longing. Our mouths melded together, tongues dancing in a passionate embrace as we succumbed to the undeniable chemistry between us. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 34 Eating My Teacher (2) * Chapter 34 Eating My Teacher (2) * Seizing the moment, I claimed her lips in another kiss, this time with an even greater sense of urgency and longing. Our mouths melded together, tongues dancing in a passionate embrace as we succumbed to the undeniable chemistry between us. "Hmmm??" Amelia moaned softly into our deep kiss, her voice stifled by the intensity of our connection. I savored her lips, licking and sucking them with a fervent passion, tasting the sweetness of her breath. Her hands clutched my shoulders with a desperate strength, her eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to process the overwhelming sensations. Her cheeks were a deep, burning red, a testament to the emotions coursing through her. I relished the feel of her lips even more, planting my hands firmly on the ground on either side of her face, my body looming over her smaller frame. In just a month, my body had transformed, growing stronger and more capable, and now I was using that strength to hold her close. "Hnn~Nathanmmnn!??" Her voice, once reserved for imparting wisdom and guidance, was now reduced to a series of breathy, passionate moans as I ravaged her lips. The transformation was intoxicating. "Hnnn!!" Amelia''s eyes flew open in surprise as I plunged my tongue past her teeth once more, this time delving even deeper. Tears began to well up at the corners of her eyes, the unfamiliar sensation pushing her to the brink of her emotional limits. I felt the same, my tongue seemingly melting within the heated confines of her mouth. I quickly sought out her tongue, intertwining mine with hers in a dance of raw desire and intimacy. The taste of her, the feel of her, was intoxicating. Each movement, each stroke of our tongues, sent waves of pleasure through me. I quickly reached her tongue and intertwined it with mine. "Sluuuurp~~~hmnnn~~??" Amelia seemed to catch on to what I wanted, awkwardly trying to match my pace. The inexperience of a virgin like her made it overwhelming for her to process what was happening. I smirked wolfishly, suddenly sucking her tongue between my lips. "Hnnn!!" Amelia gasped, her wide eyes reflecting her confusion. Her innocent, melting expression thrilled me even more. My eyes narrowed in ecstasy as I continued to suck her tongue in and out, each motion intensifying the connection between us. Her shy expression, combined with the tantalizing glimpse of her ample breasts barely concealed by the towel, was almost too much for me to bear. The sight of her struggling with her desires, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum, only fueled my own lust further. Unable to resist any longer, I reached out to pull the towel away from her body. Amelia''s grip on the towel was firm, her embarrassment palpable as she refused to meet my gaze. Smirking, I decided to take a different approach. I slipped my hand back under the towel, my fingers tracing a path down to her already wet slit and quickly inserted a finger. "Ahaan??!" Amelia''s moan echoed through the air, a sweet melody of pleasure that filled the space between us. Her grip on the towel weakened, a silent surrender to the desires raging within her. Without hesitation, I seized the opportunity and pulled down her towel, revealing her breasts in all their splendor. They were a breathtaking sight, full and round, with nipples puckered in anticipation. "Beautiful..." I murmured, my eyes drinking in the sight before me. Her breasts were a masterpiece of femininity, each curve and contour a testament to her allure. Amelia, overcome with embarrassment, attempted to shield her breasts with her arm, but I intercepted her movement, gently guiding her hand away. There was no need for modesty now, not when we were on the precipice of surrendering to our desires. She protested weakly, her voice a soft plea, but I paid her no mind. Instead, I lowered my head, my lips hungrily seeking out her nipple. As I took it into my mouth, a rush of warmth flooded my senses, and I groaned in appreciation. "Ahhhnn!!" Her cry of ecstasy spurred me on, urging me to explore every inch of her soft flesh. I suckled her right nipple with fervor, coaxing it to release whatever sweetness it held within. Her breast was a marvel of softness, yielding to my touch with a suppleness that left me intoxicated. I marveled at its fullness, relishing the sensation of it filling my mouth. "N..Nathanaannn??!!"Amelia''s grip tightened on my hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as she surrendered to the pleasure coursing through her body. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, a symphony of desire that echoed in the air around us. Her moans were really driving me insane. I raised my body leaving her breasts red and nipples erected. "N...Nathan?" Amelia looked confused with her hazy eyes as she looked at me breathless. "Sorry, I can''t hold back anymore teacher," I removed my towel revealing my cock. Chapter 35 Eating My Teacher (3) * Chapter 35 Eating My Teacher (3) * "N...Nathan?" Amelia looked confused with her hazy eyes as she looked at me breathless. "Sorry, I can''t hold back anymore teacher," I removed my towel revealing my cock. Amelia''s eyes widened in astonishment as she beheld my impressive erection. It stood before her, a testament to the intensity of our shared desire, rigid and unyielding. "Well, it''s certainly bigger than usual," I remarked with a smirk, unable to suppress the surge of arousal that coursed through me. Amelia''s cheeks flushed crimson as she took in the sight before her. "I... I''ve never seen one quite like this before," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. I chuckled softly at her reaction. "Is it too much for you to handle, Amelia?" I teased, reveling in the playful banter between us. "N-no, it''s just... surprising," she stammered, her gaze fixated on my throbbing member. Her innocence was endearing, and it only served to fuel my desire further. The thought of guiding her through this intimate experience sent a thrill coursing through me. With a mischievous glint in my eye, I extended my hand towards her. "Would you like to touch it?" I offered, my voice low and inviting. Amelia''s breath caught in her throat, her eyes flickering uncertainly. "I... I''m not sure," she replied, her voice trembling with apprehension. "Don''t worry, Amelia," I reassured her, gently guiding her hand towards my erection. "There''s nothing to be afraid of." As her fingers made contact with my throbbing shaft, a jolt of pleasure shot through me. Her touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine and igniting a fire within me. Her hand was too small, unable to wrap around my entire shaft, and this fact only excited me further. Amelia, usually so composed and authoritative, now appeared as a vulnerable girl, her fingers barely encompassing my girth. "H...Hard..." Amelia stammered, her voice filled with a blend of curiosity and uncertainty. It was as if she were a child discovering a forbidden toy. Her innocence and fascination with my erection were dangerously arousing, testing the limits of my self-control. Unable to resist any longer, I grasped her wrist, the one holding my shaft, with a firm yet gentle grip. Her eyes widened in surprise, looking up at me, puzzled and unsure. "N...Nathan...?" Amelia called out, her voice trembling. I smirked, a predatory glint in my eyes. Ignoring her hesitant plea, I grabbed her right leg with my other hand and pulled her closer to me, our bodies inches apart. Her soft skin brushed against mine, sending jolts of electricity through me. One of her legs had slipped between my knees, so I repositioned it, placing both of her legs on either side of me. My hands found their way to her ass, gripping her firm cheeks and pulling her closer until her wet pussy was pressed against my throbbing erection. She was so light¡ªor perhaps I was too strong¡ªthat I caught her off guard by quickly dragging her body and arranging it whatever I pleased. Amelia understood what I wanted, and her face paled. "N...Nathan, this isn''t the right time! It''s a dangerous place, and any of the class can come¡ª" Her expression was contorted with pain for a moment, her groans raw and pained. But soon, those groans softened, replaced by something else. Another sensation began to eclipse the pain. "Aghnnn??!!! W...What''s... happening!!!" Amelia''s hands thrashed on the sand, desperately seeking something to hold onto. But there was nothing but sand around us, as we were near the pond. Her body, once rigid with pain, began to relax and respond to the thrusts. Each movement brought waves of pleasure that gradually drowned out the initial pain. Amelia''s moans shifted from cries of discomfort to gasps of unexpected pleasure. "What''s happening?! You are getting fucked by your student! That''s what''s happening, Amelia!" I smirked, my thrusts growing more relentless. "AHNN??!! AHNNN??.... UMMNNNN????!!" Amelia''s moans were loud and unrestrained, raw with a mix of pain and pleasure. I let go of her waist and grabbed her bountiful breasts, my hands barely able to encompass them. "Such huge breasts you were hiding from me, huh!" I massaged them roughly, feeling their softness yield under my touch. "AHNN! YES??????!!!!" Her cries were so loud they startled birds from the trees nearby. More of her juices flowed, mingling with the blood and soaking the sandy ground beneath us. More of Amelia''s essence mingled with the blood, soaking the sandy ground beneath us. The tumult of sensations¡ªthe blend of pain and pleasure, the sight of her bare breasts, her wet hair cascading over her flushed skin, and the raw, unbridled lust in her eyes¡ªdrove me to the brink of ecstasy. I could no longer contain myself. With an urgency born of primal desire, I increased the tempo of my thrusts, delving deeper into her, exploring every inch of her being with my cock. "Ahnn??!! N..Nathan!! I..I feel weeeiiiird...AHHHNNNNNNN??????!!!!!" Amelia''s cry pierced the air, her body convulsing in the throes of her first orgasm. It was a crescendo of pleasure, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through the air around us. As her climax peaked, saliva dripped from her parted lips, her nectar flowing freely, marking the culmination of her release. "Ugnn!!" I groaned, feeling the mounting pressure in my groin reach its peak. With a groan, I unleashed a torrent of semen into her waiting depths, each pulse of pleasure echoing through me like thunder. "H...Hot... hnnnn??..." Her voice trailed off into a soft murmur before she lost consciousness. "Ha...fuck..." I muttered under my breath, my own body pulsing with the aftermath of our exertions. Beads of sweat glistened on my skin, evidence of the raw energy that had surged between us. Carefully, I withdrew my dick from Amelia''s pussy, watching as a mixture of fluids pooled between her thighs, a testament to the fervor of our coupling. It was an intimate sight, one that filled me with a heady sense of satisfaction. That was so good that it seemed unreal. It was even better than with Khione probably because with Khione it was a bit without much emotions since the latter wasn''t really into it contrary to me who was excited to fuck a Goddess. "Thank you teacher," I smirked. Leaning in, I pressed a tender kiss to her lips, savoring the taste of her lingering on my tongue. Then, with a weary sigh, I settled down beside her, my body heavy with exhaustion. "Khione, watch over us," I whispered before closing my eyes, utterly exhausted, mainly mentally. Might as well take my rest now next to my fucked teacher. Chapter 36 Jasons Group Chapter 36 Jason''s Group Forest Green Frog, Level 44. "Light Sword!" Jason shouted, swinging his sword with a flourish. "Raaah!" The frog easily leapt backward, avoiding the blade that shimmered with radiant energy. Then, with surprising agility, it swung its large paw. "Ugh!" Jason grunted as he quickly raised his sword to block the attack. The force sent him skidding back several meters. Despite being Level 55, Jason felt the raw power of the beast. Beasts were genetically superior in strength compared to humans, and Jason was no exception to this rule. "Hero Jason! Don''t be so reckless! You have to first assess your opponent!" Cecilia scolded, her voice tinged with frustration. This wasn''t the first time Jason had charged headlong into a fight without considering the nature of his adversary. His impulsiveness was a constant source of concern for Cecilia. She understood his strength¡ªhe was undeniably powerful, the strongest and most important Hero among them. However, he was still inexperienced, a novice who needed to gain wisdom and experience to face the even greater threats that lay ahead. Cecilia''s worry was not unfounded. She knew that Jason''s raw power alone wouldn''t be enough to keep him safe in the future. He needed to learn strategy, patience, and the importance of understanding his enemies before striking. "Yes..." Jason nodded, though his mind barely registered Cecilia''s admonishment. His confidence in his own strength was unshakable. As the possessor of an SSS Skill, the Hero of Light, one of the most powerful abilities among even the SSS ranks, he believed he could handle any monster, especially one weaker than himself. "Guaaaap!" The frog suddenly opened its mouth and spat a stream of poisonous saliva. "Jason!" A woman''s voice rang out, and a shimmering wall of water appeared in front of him, neutralizing the poison completely. The water was a radiant, beautiful blue, unlike any ordinary water. Jason''s groupmates immediately turned to see who had cast the spell. It was one of the most beautiful girls in their high school. She had auburn hair tied back neatly and striking blue eyes. She wore a robe over her armor, and her staff was pointed at the frog, its tip glowing faintly. Siara Spencer, the wielder of an A-ranked skill known as the Great Water Mage. It was a remarkably rare skill even among A-rank abilities, making her an invaluable member of their team. BADOOOM! Suddenly, a massive explosion rang out. "Jason!!" The girls screamed in unison, their voices filled with worry but fortunately Jason came out of the smoke unscathed but his gaze was ahead. Jason wasn''t the target of the explosion; instead, it was the frog, now lying charred and defeated. "AHAHAHAH! You guys are so weak!!! Two hours to beat this weakling!!!" A loud, mocking voice boomed from the smoke. A figure emerged, laughing heartily. It was a red-haired man, one of the top three alongside Jason and Sienna. "Aiden..." Jason glared at him. Aiden wore an arrogant smirk, his hand still flickering with residual flames. He wore minimal armor but had a formidable greatsword strapped to his back. Cecilia''s eyes narrowed as she looked at Aiden. Aiden Fletcher. SS-Skill: Fire Berserker. Despite his skill being a lower rank than Jason''s, Aiden was a formidable opponent. In training fights, he often matched Jason and sometimes even gained the upper hand. Their strength was nearly equal, making their rivalry intense. "Showing off again, Aiden?" Jason''s voice was cold, his earlier confidence replaced with irritation. "Just cleaning up your mess," Aiden replied with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Someone has to show you how it''s done." Cecilia sighed inwardly, knowing the rivalry between the two was both a blessing and a curse. Their competition pushed them to be stronger, but their constant one-upmanship was exhausting for everyone else.N/ne?w n0vel chap/ers are published o/n Chapter 37 Siaras worry Chapter 37 Siara''s worry Cecilia sighed inwardly, knowing the rivalry between the two was both a blessing and a curse. Their competition pushed them to be stronger, but their constant one-upmanship was exhausting for everyone else. Jason looked at the burned frog, watching as all the experience flowed into Aiden''s body. His grip tightened on his sword, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You stole our prey." "What? I saved your ass. You should be thankful," Aiden snorted. His three friends behind him snickered mockingly, adding fuel to Jason''s frustration. He clenched his fist even tighter, his anger growing. It had been a Level 44 monster. If Jason had delivered the final blow, he would have gained a significant amount of experience and possibly bonus stats. Aiden knew this perfectly well and had timed his intervention to steal the kill at the last moment. "Are you mad, Aiden?! You could have hurt Jason!" Siara shouted, glaring at Aiden. Aiden looked at Siara and laughed. "If my weakest attack can hurt Jason, then he really is weak as hell!" He burst into laughter again, joined by his friends. Jason''s jaw clenched, the mockery stinging more than he wanted to admit. The rivalry between him and Aiden had always been fierce, but this was a blatant theft of what should have been his victory. "Enough, Hero Aiden." Before Jason could snap, Cecilia intervened, her tone firm and commanding. This wasn''t the first time Aiden had provoked Jason. His actions were driven by jealousy and resentment. From the beginning, Jason had been treated as the strongest and most valuable Hero, garnering all the attention. Despite Aiden''s comparable strength, he was often overshadowed by Jason. The disparity was largely due to the rank and unique nature of Jason''s skill, Hero of Light, a fact Aiden struggled to accept. "Tchh!" Aiden snorted, glaring at Jason. "What level are you?" T/his chapter is updat/ed by y father? I can assure you he doesn''t care whether I''m dead or alive.'' She still remembered his words when she and her elder sister asked him not to leave. Siara had been living with Nathan and his father for three years, but she couldn''t ignore the strange, cold relationship between them. They barely spoke to each other except about school and his grades. Nathan''s father would only ask about his academic performance, and Nathan would respond politely. Their conversations were limited to that. Her mother was the only one who had proper conversations with Nathan. Her elder sister also spoke to him casually, while Siara kept her distance, feeling awkward. Nathan was her older step-brother by only a few months, and they ended up in the same class. After school, they would return to the same house. This sudden change, having a brother, and being in the same class made everything feel awkward for Siara. As a result, she rarely spoke to him. They would greet each other but wouldn''t engage in deeper conversations. They were more like roommates than step-siblings. Cecilia smiled seeing the uneasiness in Siara''s face. She was actually shocked when she first learned that Siara and Sienna were step siblings with Nathan as they rarely spoke to each other or acted like siblings but seeing the tinge of worry in Siara''s face, as expected, ut was just difficult for them to say it. "You are worried for your brother, aren''t you?" Cecilia asked. "H..Heum...yeah kinda..." Siara admitted awkwardly. Despite the distance between them, she felt a pang of worry for him now. His relationship with their father might have been cold, but Nathan had always been kind to her in his quiet way. The silence from his group added to her unease, making her wonder if something had gone wrong. Nathan was still someone she had grown up with for three years. They ate together, watched movies together, and lived under the same roof. Despite the awkwardness, she couldn''t remain indifferent to his well-being. "I told him not to go... this idiot..." Siara murmured to herself, worry etched on her face. "Don''t worry. Oscar is with him; he''s quite strong, so he''ll be able to protect them against any monsters. And your teacher is there too, isn''t he?" Cecilia said, attempting to comfort Siara, though she too felt a sense of unease. "Yes..." Siara nodded, though her concern lingered. She then joined Jason, who was still determined to move forward. Chapter 38 Amelia After becoming a Woman Chapter 38 Amelia After becoming a Woman I opened my eyes tiredly, the first thing I saw was the brilliant blue sky stretching endlessly above me. It was clear and serenely peaceful, an agreeable canvas to just watch in silence. A warm breeze fluttered gently through my white hair as I slowly raised my body. A towel was strategically covering my lower parts, offering a semblance of modesty. Looking to my side, I noticed that Amelia wasn''t lying next to me anymore. My gaze wandered toward the nearby pond, and there she was. Amelia seemed to have taken a quick, refreshing bath in the pond; her dark hair was still wet, glistening in the sunlight. She was in the process of putting back her bra, hiding her beautiful, ample breasts before slipping into her pants. When she noticed I was awake, a slight blush spread across her cheeks, adding a touch of innocence to her otherwise composed demeanor. The sight of her topless figure, with the bra barely concealing her voluptuous breasts, was quite the captivating sight, honestly. But she quickly grabbed her shirt and slipped it on, much to my disappointment. I rose up on my feet and walked leisurely toward the pond. "What time is it, teacher?" I asked, my voice slightly hoarse. "It should be already afternoon, Nathan. We should hurry up. Everyone should have already started going back," Amelia said, her tone a mix of urgency and lingering shyness. "Right," I nodded, and with a swift motion, I plunged into the cool, refreshing water of the pond and began washing my body. It seemed I had only slept for a few precious hours, but those few hours had felt like an eternity wrapped in a dream. The soothing water cascaded over my skin, washing away the remnants of our earlier passion and the fatigue that clung to my muscles. The clear pond, the gentle breeze, and the sight of Amelia''s bashful smile created a moment I would treasure forever. After cleaning myself with a fresh towel, I put on my clothes. I decided to leave my light armor behind¡ªit didn''t suit me well, so I opted for just wearing a shirt. "You should wear it, Nathan..." Amelia suggested, concern evident in her eyes. "Don''t worry, we''re going back anyway," I reassured her, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. Amelia blushed and averted her gaze. "N..Nathan, about what happened..." "Yes, you want to keep it a secret from the others, right?" I anticipated her thoughts. Amelia nodded, her expression conflicted. "I... I feel ashamed, but it happened, and I don''t want my students to know... at least not now. I''m still their teacher, and I don''t want to break the cohesion we have. We have enough problems as it is," she said, gripping her arm bitterly. "You shouldn''t be ashamed of anything, Amelia," I said, gently embracing her. "Of course, you are our teacher, but you deserve all the happiness in the world. You shouldn''t bear the burden alone. At least lean on me if you need some comfort," I said sincerely. This was a woman I truly loved. I also didn''t want my classmates to learn what had happened between us. It was too soon, and like she said, we had enough issues to deal with. Moreover, since the moment I had slept with Khione and killed Oscar, I had made a lot of dangerous enemies. If my relationship with Amelia was discovered, it could put her in danger. "Nathan..." Amelia murmured, embracing me back. Since I had grown taller and stronger, I could easily wrap my arm around her waist. With a smirk, I groped her ass. "No, I''m sure I heard something," Amelia insisted, her eyes scanning the surroundings with heightened alertness. I sighed inwardly. "Alright, let''s check it out then," I conceded, knowing that Amelia wouldn''t let it go otherwise. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã A few kilometers away, deep within the dense, shadowy forest, an intense and terrifying scene was unfolding. "W-what is this?!" one of the girls exclaimed, her voice trembling with fear. "Our attacks aren''t working!" another cried out in panic, her voice echoing through the trees. "We can''t defeat it! We need to get out of here!" a boy shouted, his face pale and his eyes wide with terror. "Hurry, run!" another boy urged, his voice cracking under the strain of fear. "RUNNN!!!" the final girl screamed, her voice filled with desperation. The group, consisting of two girls and three boys, had stumbled upon a formidable and dangerous beast. The monster before them was a terrifying sight to behold¡ªa giant bear with razor-sharp claws and teeth that gleamed menacingly in the dim light filtering through the forest canopy. As Heroes, all five of them possessed the ability to see the levels of the monsters they encountered. This was a crucial skill that allowed them to gauge the strength of their foes and strategize accordingly. However, this ability only extended to monsters, unlike Nathan''s universal eye which could discern levels of any being. When they tried to assess the level of the monstrous bear, they failed. Their attempts to read its level yielded nothing, a clear and ominous indication that the beast was far stronger than they were. The realization struck them with the force of a sledgehammer¡ªthis creature was beyond their capabilities. The bear was a Forest Enraged Bear, a creature of immense power and ferocity. Its level, 82, was far beyond anything the group could handle. The sheer presence of such a high-level monster was enough to send chills down their spines and compel them to flee for their lives. Unfortunately, the monster had already noticed them, and there was no stopping it now. With terrifying speed, the bear lunged toward the boy at the back of the group, its deadly claws outstretched, ready to tear him apart. "ROY!!!!" his friend screamed, glancing back in horror at the impending doom. But then, in the blink of an eye... Fwish! A figure appeared out of nowhere, moving with incredible speed. She sliced through the bear''s sharp claws effortlessly with her gleaming sword. The severed claws fell to the ground as she landed gracefully, her presence exuding both power and calm. She had long, flowing black hair tied into a ponytail, revealing her white slender neck. Her sharp blue eyes glinted with determination as she faced the monstrous bear. She was a wearing a light armour accentuating well her proportions and her great beauty. "S...Sienna!!" Roy shouted in disbelief and relief, recognizing their savior immediately. Chapter 39 Goddess Athenas favourite Chapter 39 Goddess Athena''s favourite "S-Sienna!!!" Roy, who had collapsed on the ground, abandoning any hope of survival, looked up at the back of the beautiful girl standing protectively in front of him. Sienna Parker. She was among the top three strongest Heroes who had been summoned. Two years older than Roy and his friends, she had been inadvertently pulled into their class summoning when she had visited their classroom for a brief presentation about the club she was part of. Sienna was well-known as the older sister of their classmate, Siara Parker. Like her sister, she was strikingly beautiful, though Sienna was clearly more gifted not only in terms of physical attributes but also in her abilities. She was one of the rare few to have awakened an SS-ranked skill as her main power, a distinction she shared with only Aiden and Gwen. Her true strength and level, however, were shrouded in mystery. Sienna was cautious about revealing the full extent of her power. Some speculated that she was stronger than Aiden and only slightly less powerful than Jason, while others believed she was on par with Jason. Regardless of the rumors, Roy and his group were immensely relieved to see Sienna. Sienna stared intently at the Level 82 monster before her. "Get back," she commanded firmly. "Yes!!" Roy and his companions stepped back without hesitation. The bear, enraged by Sienna''s intrusion, glared at her and charged with ferocious speed. Sienna gripped her sword with both hands and rushed forward to meet the beast head-on. When her sword clashed with the bear''s fangs, a massive shockwave erupted from the collision, sending a powerful blast of wind through the forest, shaking trees and scattering leaves. Despite her strong Skill, Sienna was pushed back significantly by the force of the impact. The monster was not only higher in level but also possessed greater physical strength. She quickly regained her footing, eyes narrowing in determination as she prepared for the next clash with the strong beast. "Sienna!!" a voice rang out suddenly, drawing everyone''s attention. More classmates arrived on the scene, part of Sienna''s group. Leading them was Courtney. When they saw Sienna rushing out so urgently, they had quickly followed her, and now they were here. However, Courtney remained worried. The sudden increase in Sienna''s strength, allowing her to match the bear''s power, wasn''t normal. She scrutinized Sienna more closely and noticed her labored breathing and the strain on her face. "Sienna!" Courtney called out, concern evident in her voice. "Are you okay?" Sienna nodded slightly, but her eyes remained focused on the bear, now even more enraged. The monster roared in pain and anger, its eyes glowing with fury as it prepared to launch another attack. Realizing the danger, Courtney quickly raised her staff again, preparing to cast another spell to support Sienna. She couldn''t let her friend face the beast alone, especially not when it was clear that even Sienna''s immense power came at a great cost. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã In Olympus, the Gods typically gathered to discuss significant issues concerning both the human and divine realms. However, today their collective gaze was fixed downward, observing the world below. A mocking laugh emanated from a divinely beautiful woman with long black hair and piercing yellow eyes. Seated next to the king of gods, Zeus, she exuded an air of haughty amusement. "Khione''s Heroes are really weak after all," Hera said, her laughter echoing through the halls of Olympus. "You think so? That one with the sword is quite strong, and she... is totally my type," remarked a muscular man with red spiky hair, clad in armor. He licked his lips lasciviously as he watched Sienna battle a beast stronger than herself. "I wouldn''t touch her if I were you, Ares," a lean, handsome man interjected with a smile. "What did you say, Hermes?" Ares glared at him, his eyes burning with irritation. "It''s just advice," Hermes shrugged with a grin. "She is Athena''s favorite among the summoned Heroes." He pointed toward a woman who was also observing the fight intently. The woman he indicated was exceptionally beautiful, with a divine aura radiating from her. She wore gleaming golden armor, and her golden hair cascaded down to her waist. Her piercing golden eyes were focused and serious as she watched Sienna. Athena, the goddess of wisdom and warfare, maintained her silent vigil. Her expression was stern, her gaze unwavering as she monitored the battle. Unlike Hera, who mocked the heroes, Athena saw the potential and courage in Sienna. She had high hopes for the young Hero and believed in her capability to overcome great challenges.Ne/w novel chapters are p/u/blished on Chapter 40 Saving Sienna Chapter 40 Saving Sienna Athena remained silent, her expression unreadable. There was no need for her to respond; Hermes had hit the nail on the head. Athena had consistently supported Khione''s proposal to summon Heroes from another world. She had voted in favor during the initial summoning, again the second time, and now for the third time as well. Her reasoning was straightforward: she believed that humans from another world had the potential to bring immense benefits to their own world, especially to its inhabitants. If these summoned Heroes could indeed become strong rapidly and defend their world effectively, it would save the gods a tremendous amount of time and effort. Although the first two summoning attempts had not yielded the expected results, there was something different this time. The Goddess Gaia had assured her of this with a confident smile. Thus, Athena decided to support Khione once more and was pleased with the outcome. She had taken a particular liking to Sienna Parker, a Hero who had inherited the formidable Skill of the Sword Hero. Sienna was not only growing stronger at an impressive rate but also possessed a keen sense of righteousness that resonated with Athena. Consequently, Athena chose to closely monitor Sienna''s progress. Despite her usual composure, Athena felt a twinge of worry this time. The beast Sienna was up against was exceptionally powerful. Although Athena, as a Goddess, rarely intervened directly, she resolved to step in if Sienna''s life was in imminent danger. For now, she would continue to observe. "Aren''t you going to intervene, Athena? She is going to die at this point," Hermes asked with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Intervene for someone from another world? Since when has Athena done that?" Hera interjected with a laugh, her tone mocking. Historically, the gods of Olympus seldom interfered with the affairs of the summoned Heroes, preferring to focus on their own world''s humans. Athena, in particular, had never descended to aid any Hero. However, this situation seemed different. Athena''s grip tightened on her lance as she contemplated intervening. Just as she was about to make her move, something unexpected happened. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Re?a? latest cha/p/ters at novelhall.com The battle between Sienna and the massive bear raged on with unrelenting ferocity. Sienna faced the bear head-on, seemingly matching its strength blow for blow, but her power was only temporarily heightened by her formidable SS-Skill, Sword Hero. Courtney and the other companions provided support from a distance, though only Courtney''s attacks appeared to have any real effect on the beast. Sienna''s own strikes were even more effective. She was drawing blood, each hit gradually tipping the scales in her favor. Her determination was palpable as she slowly gained the upper hand against the towering bear. Sienna, still clutching her sword, rose awkwardly to her feet. She gathered every ounce of her remaining mana, her eyes fixed on the bear''s unprotected back. This was her chance¡ªwhile the bear was still disoriented. Her sword began to glow with an intense blue light, nearly blinding those around her. The ground trembled beneath her as she took a firm stance, gripping her sword with both hands. She raised the blade high above her head before swinging it downward with all her might. "Ha!" A giant, sharp, blue energy blade sliced through the air, covering the distance to the bear in an instant. "GRAAAAA!!!" The bear let out a scream as the blade tore open its back, blood spurting out in a gruesome display. Flesh and even bones were exposed, a horrifying sight. Exhausted, Sienna collapsed to her knees as the energy left her sword. The bear, writhing in agony, turned its furious gaze towards her. Its eyes burned with rage as it opened its mouth, flames flickering inside. With a powerful roar, it unleashed a jet of fire directly at Sienna. Through her blue eyes, Sienna saw the wall of fire rushing towards her, knowing she would not survive the attack. She tried to move, but her body refused to obey, too drained from the battle. At that critical moment, a figure leapt towards her, tackling her to the ground just in time to dodge the fiery breath. Sienna''s eyes widened in surprise as she looked up to see who had saved her. "Are you okay, Sienna?" Nathan asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. He positioned his body protectively over hers, shielding her from further harm. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 41 Courtneys Confusion Chapter 41 Courtney''s Confusion "Are you okay, Sienna?" Nathan asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern as he positioned his body protectively over hers, shielding her from further harm. Sienna''s heart softened when she saw the worried expression on her younger stepbrother''s face. After three years of living with Nathan, she had come to believe that he didn''t really care about her. But despite her initial doubts, she realized that she cared deeply for him. Perhaps it was the time they had spent together, or maybe it was because he always helped them out without expecting anything in return. This concern was why she had asked him not to join this dangerous training session in the forest. When she had asked him to stay behind, his refusal had been firm. What stuck with her and her younger sister most was the way he had spoken about his father. Nathan''s relationship with their stepfather had always been strained, a stark contrast to how he treated Sienna and her sister. For Sienna, their stepfather was a gentle figure, but she had always noticed the distance he maintained with Nathan. She hadn''t thought much of it at the time, but recalling Nathan''s words now filled her with a sense of guilt. "Sienna?" Nathan called out again, bringing her back to the present. She looked up at Nathan''s face, just a few inches away, and saw genuine worry in his eyes. It struck her that she had never seen him look at her with such concern before. This moment of vulnerability and care touched her deeply, and she realized how much she had misunderstood him. "Yes, I''m okay thanks," Sienna replied softly, her voice tinged with gratitude. She offered him a faint smile, hoping to reassure him. "We have to get away!" Nathan urged, quickly standing up and grasping Sienna''s hand to help her to her feet. Without wasting another moment, they began to run, their hearts pounding in unison. The bear''s bloodshot eyes glared at the fleeing duo, its rage palpable. Just as it prepared to lunge after them, a barrage of fireballs struck its head once more. "Graaaa!" The bear''s fury only intensified. It was Courtney again, trying desperately to divert the bear''s attention so that Nathan and Sienna could escape. However, her actions drew all the bear''s wrath upon herself. "Courtney!!" Amelia shouted, summoning multiple earth barriers to slow down the bear''s advance. Each barrier crumbled under the bear''s might, but it gave precious seconds. The beast was growing even more powerful, its claws sharpening and elongating as it broke through the barriers. But she couldn''t move him. Courtney was bewildered. She was supposed to be stronger than Nathan, so why couldn''t she push him away? Her confusion deepened as she looked up at him, seeing his eyes cold directed toward the bear. Was it just her imagination, or did she see the bear flinch and take a step back when Nathan looked at it? Nathan stood up, lifting Courtney off the ground with his hand before placing her behind him. "Stay behind me and stay close," he instructed firmly. "Y... yes," Courtney nodded immediately, her heart racing. "Nathan! What are you doing?!" Amelia shouted in shock as the bear charged towards Nathan and Courtney. Nathan clenched his fist, ready to face the bear head-on. But just at that moment, a flash of light streaked through the air. The bear had no time to react as it was struck away by the blinding flash. Everyone knew who it was instantly. "Jason!!!" the girls from Sienna''s group shouted in joy. Jason appeared, his sword gleaming as he swung it with precision, slicing off the bear''s arm. Without giving the beast a chance to recover, he swiftly brought his sword down on the bear''s head, decapitating it and ending its life in an instant. An enormous surge of experience flowed into Jason''s body, and he nearly grunted under the intensity. It was clear he had leveled up significantly, though the bulk of the credit belonged to Sienna, who had done 95% of the work, with Courtney contributing another 4%. Chapter 42 Jasons Jealousy 42 Jason''s Jealousy "I feel so much stronger!" Jason said with a smirk, basking in the aftermath of his victory. Are you proud of yourself, Jason? You really took all the experience Sienna should have gotten, the experience she deserved. I glanced at Sienna. Remarkably, she didn''t seem to care about the stolen glory. I admired her for that. If it had been Jason, or worse, Aiden, they would have snapped at such a blatant steal. As I looked around, I saw Amelia speaking with the other group, who had nearly met their end at the bear''s claws. From what I gathered, they had encountered the terrifying bear on their way back and started running for their lives. Just as they were about to be torn apart, Sienna intervened, fighting the bear head-on and saving them. I was quite surprised, considering the bear was over level 80 and Sienna was only level 58. Her Skill, Sword Hero, was truly something else. It fit her perfectly, I had to admit. "Are you okay, sister?" Siara, who had arrived with Jason, quickly rushed to her elder sister, her face etched with worry. Sienna, utterly exhausted, managed a weak smile. It was already a miracle she hadn''t sustained any severe injuries. "I''m fine, fine," Sienna reassured her sister before glancing in my direction. "Nathan saved me." Siara turned her gaze toward me, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. I looked at her briefly before feeling a slight tug on my shirt. "Courtney?" I asked, noticing her unusual expression. Courtney stared at me strangely before muttering, "Thanks for saving me. I thought I was going to die, really. I was... scared." In the end, she was just a high school girl, barely sixteen. Despite her experience fighting monsters, this was the first time she had faced such a terrifying creature. Still, from what I had seen, she had played a significant role in the battle, helping Sienna and taking great risks to divert the bear''s attention when I was with Sienna, unguarded. I smiled. "You also saved us. We''re even." Courtney looked surprised by my smile, then blushed a little. "Heummm. Yes." "Are you okay, Courtney?!" Jason suddenly pushed me aside, his eyes filled with concern as he addressed her. This guy, who was smirking moments ago about all the experience he had gained from stealing Sienna''s prey, suddenly remembered to show worry for Courtney? I considered my response. Oscar likely hadn''t sent any messages that would implicate me since his plan was to get rid of me covertly and blame it on monsters. But I needed to tread carefully. "No, sorry. When I woke up, he wasn''t there anymore. I looked around but didn''t find him anywhere nearby," I said. Cecilia looked at me intently. "Hero Amelia told me that the last time she saw Oscar, you were going to gather wood for the fire," she said. "Yes, indeed. Oscar gave me a hand, and then we returned to the camp. The teacher was already sleeping. Oscar took the first guard shift, but as I said, when I woke up, he wasn''t there anymore," I said, feigning a thoughtful look. "I hope nothing has happened to him." "No, of course. Oscar is quite strong, there''s nothing to worry about," Cecilia said, noting the concern on my face. "You mentioned having some kind of device to communicate with him, right? Can''t you track his location with it?" I asked, trying to sound curious rather than anxious. "Yes, we can. I just need some help once we are back outside the forest," Cecilia nodded. So, they can find the place where I left him to die. I was only worried about one thing: the way I killed him, a sword stab. Even though I left him to be devoured by strong beasts, I hoped they were hungry enough to consume everything. If they didn''t, I was doomed. The Emperor only needed a reason to get rid of me. "Thanks for the answers," Cecilia said, nodding. Judging from her behavior, she didn''t seem particularly close to Oscar. At least, not enough to make this personal for her. I smiled and nodded as she walked away. Starting from now, it will become much harder to hide things. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 43 Goddess Khiones Tongue Work (3) * 43 Goddess Khione''s Tongue Work (3) * After we emerged from the dense greenery of the forest, we were met by knights who began treating us while we waited for the other groups to arrive. Fortunately, after about an hour, the rest of my classmates joined us, and there were no casualties. We hadn''t lost anyone during the entire month, thanks largely to Sienna''s quick thinking and bravery. She had saved them from numerous dangerous situations, although Cecilia found it odd that such a powerful beast was roaming outside its usual territory. The most pressing issue, however, was Oscar''s mysterious disappearance. He hadn''t sent any messages or calls, and there were no traces of him. The knights were understandably worried and dispatched a team to search for him. Meanwhile, they didn''t want us to wait around idly, so we were allowed to return to the castle. Amelia, though, had to meet the Emperor for a debriefing. I suspected they would question her about Oscar as well, but she genuinely didn''t know anything, so they wouldn''t find any leads through her. They would likely call me in next, but I had a little time until then. I opened my room and closed the door behind me. To my surprise, Khione was already inside. She spoke with an indifferent tone, but I could sense her underlying anger. "You killed him," she said bluntly. "I had no choice. He wanted to kill me, after all," I replied, splashing water on my face to cool down. To be honest, I had wanted to kill that guy for a long time, ever since he started eyeing Gwen and Amelia. He made it easier for me by attempting to kill me first, giving me a solid reason in the process. Khione remained silent, her expression unreadable. The weight of my actions and the consequences that might follow hung heavily in the air. Khione wasn''t upset because she cared about Oscar; she didn''t give a damn about him. Her worry was for me, whether it stemmed from the bond that meant she would die if I did or from genuine concern after a month together, was uncertain. But she was clearly uneasy. "They will come out now," Khione said, her tone somber. By ''they,'' she was obviously referring to the true rulers of the Empire of Light. "Sluuurp~~sluuuurp~~~" Khione''s tongue flicked out hesitantly, tracing a path along the length of my shaft. Her touch was tentative at first, but as she became more accustomed to the routine, her movements grew more confident. She licked from base to tip, swirling her tongue around the head and collecting the beads of precum that had gathered there. "Sluuuuuuuurp!" "That''s it," I murmured, running a hand through her silken hair, encouraging her to take more of me into her mouth. Khione''s lips parted, enveloping the head of my cock in warm, wet heat. She sucked gently, her tongue working in tandem with her lips to create a delicious friction. The sensation was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. I leaned back slightly, letting out a low groan as I savored the moment. "Good girl," I praised, feeling her mouth tighten around me in response. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, a hint of something unreadable in their depths. Whether it was defiance, resignation, or something else entirely, I couldn''t be sure. What mattered was the sensation of her mouth around my cock, the way she worked her tongue and lips to bring me pleasure. "Gluuuurp~~~sluuuurrrp! Gluuuuurp~~" The sounds of Khione''s wet, eager mouth on my cock filled the air, a symphony of lust that only fueled my desire further. Her tongue danced around my glans, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. It was an addiction, pure and simple¡ªI could never get enough of the way she worshipped my cock with her mouth. I reached down, cupping her cheek with one hand, guiding her movements to ensure every touch was exactly where I wanted it. Her pink lips formed a tight seal around my shaft, her eyes half-closed in concentration as she pleasured me. "Gluuuurp~~~gluuuuurp....~~gluuuurp" My hips began to move lightly, pushing my cock deeper into Khione''s warm, inviting mouth. I explored the wet cavern, feeling the velvety smoothness of her cheeks and the delicate pressure of her lips. My cock traced the contours of her mouth, gliding over her white teeth and pressing against her soft, pliant tongue. Khione''s hands fell away from my shaft, resting at her sides in a gesture of submission. She was letting me take control, allowing me to fuck her mouth as I pleased. I moved carefully, savoring the sensation of her mouth around me, pushing deeper with each thrust. Chapter 44 Goddess Khiones Tongue Work (4) * 44 Goddess Khione''s Tongue Work (4) * Khione''s hands fell away from my shaft, resting at her sides in a gesture of submission. She was letting me take control, allowing me to fuck her mouth as I pleased. I moved carefully, savoring the sensation of her mouth around me, pushing deeper with each thrust. "Gluuuurp~~~gluuuuurp...." What a mouth though. I had been fucking her mouth for two weeks now, but I really couldn''t get enough of it. The way it was perfectly warm, and her soft lips enveloping my cock tenderly, as if she were savoring an ice cream. Only, in this case, she had no control over the ice cream. With my fingers on her cheeks, I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, her cheeks flushing a deep red. Was it my dick warming her mouth further, or was it just her being ashamed? Despite everything, she was still a Goddess, so it must have been that. "Lick, Khione," I commanded, pulling my dick out to show her the semen gathered at the glans. "You shouldn''t waste it." Khione grasped my penis once more and gave a tentative lick on the glans. "Oh... fuck..." I groaned in pleasure as her tongue lapped at my pink glans like a cat drinking water. Her movements were still awkward, but the way she was trying to lick quickly, as if to spare herself the same ordeal, only excited me further. Her saliva was now coating half of my cock, making it glisten with her effort. "Nice, now suck it again, but give it your all, Khione," I said with a smile, guiding my dick back into her mouth. Khione breathed lightly before opening her mouth. "Hmmmpfff!" She was taking too long, so I forced it open by plunging my dick directly into her waiting mouth. "Your mouth is truly divine, Khione," I let out a cold breath as three-quarters of my dick was now inside her mouth. The sensation of her warm, wet mouth around my cock was almost too much to bear. Khione''s eyes fluttered closed as she focused on her task. Her tongue began to move more confidently, swirling around the shaft and glans, exploring every inch with renewed fervor. Each stroke of her tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, and I could feel myself growing harder with each passing second. Khione looked up at me, her lips swollen and glistening with saliva and my release. She licked her lips, swallowing the last remnants of my cum. "Did you like it?" I asked, a teasing edge to my voice. Khione glared at me, her blue eyes flashing with defiance. "Don''t look at me like that. I''m sure you''re slowly becoming addicted to the taste of my semen," I laughed, enjoying her expression. She ignored my taunt, instead focusing on the task at hand. My cock, still glistening with her saliva and my cum, needed cleaning. Without needing my signal, she understood what to do next. She grasped my penis, now starting to turn limp, and began to lick the tip delicately. "Sluuurp~~~sluuuurp~~~sluuuuurp" The sound of her cleaning me sent another wave of satisfaction through my body. Once she was finished, I grasped her arm and, with a sudden movement, threw her onto the bed. "W...what are you¡ª" "Holding back isn''t good for you, Khione," I said with a grin, climbing onto the bed after her. "I am not holding back anything," Khione glared again. "Really?" I retorted, pulling up her dress before she could stop me. Her long, white legs came into view, followed by her smooth thighs, and finally, her dampened panties. A telltale wetness had even dripped down her thigh, betraying her true desires. Despite her attempts to hide it, her body couldn''t lie. She was a woman who had been fucked for two weeks, and such a desire was hard to suppress completely anymore after having tasted it once. Khione averted her gaze, clearly ashamed. I smiled, enjoying the sight of her vulnerable and exposed. "Don''t worry, I''ll make you feel good." Chapter 45 Deep Inside Khione * Chapter 45 Deep Inside Khione * "Don''t worry, I''ll make you feel good," I promised, ripping the lower half of her dress away with a swift motion. "Haa!" Her breath hitched as I revealed her soaked panties. I could see her arousal glistening in the dim light. I leaned down, my breath hot against her inner thigh. Her body tensed, anticipating my next move. I slid her panties down, exposing her fully to me. Her glistening pussy was an inviting sight, showing her hidden desires. I couldn''t resist teasing her further. "Look at you, Khione. So wet for me," I whispered, running a finger along her slit, gathering her arousal. She shivered under my touch, her eyes closing as she bit her lip to stifle a moan. "Hmmnn~~" Throwing away my pants, I positioned myself between her legs, my cock hardening once again at the sight of her laid bare before me. Grasping both her legs, I spread them apart and brought my lips closer to her thigh giving a tender kiss. "Hnn..." Then stretching out my tongue, I licked her nectar that had dripped down her thigh. "Haa??!" Stroking her legs, I continued to kiss her thigh as my lips slowly reached her inner thigh and eventually her leaking pussy. I raised my gaze and saw Khione with a flushed face looking back at me with moistened eyes. How can I resist that? With a smirk, I leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her clit, eliciting a gasp from her lips. I felt her thighs tremble as I began to lick her folds, savoring her taste. "You still taste so good, Khione," I smiled. "Ah... Nooo... stop..." she whispered, her voice betraying her true feelings. "Why should I stop when you''re enjoying it so much?" I teased, my tongue flicking over her sensitive bud. "Ahnnn??" Her hips bucked involuntarily, pressing herself closer to my mouth. I took that as an invitation, diving deeper into her, my tongue exploring her depths. Her moans grew louder, and I could feel her walls clenching around my tongue. "Haaa??...haaaa??...haaaa??..." She let out hot sensual breaths as my tongue fucked her pussy relentlessly. I knew she was close, and I wanted to push her over the edge. I increased my pace, my tongue working in tandem with my fingers as I rubbed her clit. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps, and her body tensed, ready to snap but right at that moment I stopped. "Hero Nathan?" The maid''s voice suddenly rang from outside the door. "Ahn?? Ahn??! Hannn??! S..someone''s there! AHNN??!!" Meanwhile, Khione kept moaning, her voice filled with desperate pleasure. I pulled her nipple strongly. "Keep moaning. I will take care of it." "Hero Nathan?" The maid entered, her footsteps hesitant. "Hnnn! Ahn! Ahn??! Ahnnn??! Ooooh????..." The maid froze, her face flushing furiously upon seeing me vigorously fucking a woman on the bed. She couldn''t see who it was because I had drawn the curtain around the bed. However, she could see the trembling white legs limply sprawled beside me. "E-Excuse me! I will come back later¡ª" "What do you want? Say it," I cut her off, continuing my task with renewed vigor, determined to bring Khione to her orgasm. "AHNNN??...s..stoooop...hmmnnn~~~" Khione''s pleas were breathless, her body writhing beneath me. "I didn''t ask you," I smirked, closing Khione''s mouth with my hand and fucking her harder. "Hmpppff! Hnnnnmm????" Khione''s muffled moans filled the room as she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her body trembling with each thrust. "H..Heum..the E..Emperor is...asking for you..." the maid replied, her face bright red. I could see her legs rubbing together awkwardly, clearly affected by the scene. "W..wait a minute," I said, raising Khione''s left leg and placing it on my shoulder. I positioned myself perfectly, thrusting all the way up to the deepest part of her pussy, reaching her womb. "AHNNN??!!!" Khione screamed, her body arching off the bed. "I..am on it!!" I shouted feeling my own orgasm building. I used all my remaining stamina to pound Khione harder, determined to finish. "AHHHN??!! AHNNNN?? YEEEESSSS??!!!" Khione''s voice reached a high-pitched crescendo as she moaned loudly. "T..Take it all!!" I urged, giving a final, powerful thrust. My semen shot out in several streams, filling her pussy. "H...Hoooott!!! HYAAAAAANNNN????!!" Khione''s body convulsed strongly, her head tilting back in overwhelming pleasure. "Ah, fuck..." I murmured, kissing her leg draped over my shoulder. My hands moved to her breasts, partly to feel their softness and partly to steady myself. But Khione didn''t react. Her body had gone limp, her pussy twitching as it released spurts of her juices. I gently lowered her leg and pulled out my penis, watching more of her juices mixed with my semen drip out. It was a sight that always thrilled me. If she were still conscious, I might have asked her to clean me up with her mouth, but she was too spent. She was still new to sex, but soon enough, she would become skilled enough to perform all tasks perfectly¡ªlicking, fucking, and cleaning. Climbing down from the bed, I covered Khione''s body with a sheet and drew the curtain completely, hiding her from view. I turned to face the maid. Chapter 46 Nathan Suspected Chapter 46 Nathan Suspected Climbing down from the bed, I covered Khione''s body with a sheet and drew the curtain completely, hiding her from view. I turned to face the maid. The maid had only heard Khione''s moans, but they were so different from her usual neutral voice that she wouldn''t connect the dots. The maid stood there, blushing furiously, her eyes wide. She looked flustered and unsure, her body language betraying her embarrassment. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice calm but firm. "The E-Emperor is asking for you," she stammered, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I''ll be there shortly," I replied, straightening my clothes. "Is that all?" "Yes, Hero Nathan," she nodded, her face still red. "I''ll inform the Emperor of your arrival." Noticing how she averted her gaze from my dick, I couldn''t help but smirk a little. "You''re a maid, right? A maid has to attend to the Heroes'' needs," I stated, casually walking toward her. "Y-yes!" she responded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It wasn''t for nothing that all the boys were assigned maids and all the girls, butlers. It was their duty to attend to the Heroes and form a close relationship with them. Some girls, like my step-sisters, refused their assigned butlers and chose to have a maid instead. However, I wasn''t about to refuse such a cute maid. "Then come and attend to me," I directed, pointing at my dick, which was still glistening with semen. No?v(el)B\\jnn "E-uhm, yes," she replied shyly, kneeling down in front of me. Anna was a cute maid, about a year older than me. She had shoulder-length black hair and big brown eyes. I might have already taken her to bed if I had the time, energy, and more importantly, trust towards her. But a blowjob wouldn''t hurt, right? "Sluuuurp~" Her tongue licked all the way up my glans, cleaning off most of the semen. I couldn''t resist grasping her hair gently as she continued to lick around my dick. "Look at me," I said. "Sluuuurp~~~sluuuuuuurp!" Her innocent eyes met mine as she diligently licked my dick, which had just been fucking Khione. What a good maid. "Hmmmnn??GULP!" Anna nodded, her teary eyes filled with a mix of submission and arousal, her cheeks flushed with exertion. "Did you enjoy it? You''ve been wanting this, haven''t you?" I asked, my tone teasing. "Hmmn. I..it was good, master..." Anna replied, her voice ragged with breathlessness. "Good. Now, lead me to the Emperor," I commanded, pulling up my pants and straightening my appearance. "Y..Yes..." Anna responded, standing up awkwardly and adjusting her dress before leading the way. As I strode through the halls, my mind raced with thoughts. If that bastard Emperor was summoning me already, it meant he was highly suspicious about what happened with Oscar. I hadn''t expected him to call me in so soon without allowing me time to rest. When we reached the entrance to the throne room, the guards opened the doors and we entered. Anna announced my presence to the Emperor. "Your Majesty, Hero Nathan is here," she said. The Emperor nodded, his gaze fixed on me as I approached. "Nathan..." Amelia was also present, her expression nervous, but I offered her a reassuring smile. "Emperor, may I know the reason for my summons?" I asked, my tone serious as I scanned the room. The Emperor sat on his throne, with the Empress beside him, her gaze filled with concern. Of course, she would be worried, I thought with a smirk. But there was another figure in the room, one who exuded a dangerous aura. He had white hair and golden eyes, and his stare bore into me with intensity. He was undeniably powerful, and I couldn''t gauge his level with my Odin Eye. "It concerns the death of Oscar," the Emperor stated. "Oscar? I already told Cecilia everything I knew," I replied, genuinely puzzled. "Yes, but there are still gaps in the story. Hero Amelia doesn''t know what happened exactly after you went to gather wood in the forest. Most likely, Oscar followed you to protect you, correct?" "Yes, indeed. After gathering wood, we returned to camp, and he took the night guard duty alone. When I woke up, he was gone," I reiterated, sticking to my previous explanation. "Strange... isn''t it?" The man with white hair interjected, his smile sending shivers down my spine as he approached. "And you are?" I asked. "Excuse me, Hero Nathan," the man chuckled, placing a hand over his chest in a theatrical manner. "I am Radakel, a Divine Knight of the Empire of Light." Chapter 47 Nathan Suspected (2) 47 Nathan Suspected (2) "Excuse me, Hero Nathan," the man chuckled, placing a hand over his chest in a theatrical manner. "I am Radakel, a Divine Knight of the Empire of Light." "Radakel, what were you saying?" I asked, striving to mask my apprehension with a casual tone. The Divine Knights were the very individuals Khione had warned me about. They were the covert rulers of the Empire of Light, the most formidable soldiers serving the empire from the shadows. Khione had cautioned me to tread carefully around them. Perhaps I should have waited to fuck Khione¡ªshe might have provided me some form of protection in this situation. "Yes, it''s peculiar. We managed to recover Oscar''s body just an hour ago," Radakel replied, his lips curling into a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. "Oh, that''s a relief," I said, mirroring his smile. "I''m glad we can give him a proper burial. He was a great help to me." "Indeed, it is a relief," Radakel continued, his voice tinged with something I couldn''t quite place. "However, most of his body was devoured by beasts. We could only retrieve a limb and a half-eaten head." "Oscar, beaten and devoured by beasts? That''s hard to believe," I said, feigning shock and incredulity. "Yes, it is quite unbelievable," Radakel agreed, stepping closer. "Oscar was one of our best. It''s strange that he didn''t manage to escape for his safety. He was certainly capable of it." "How could he escape if he was surrounded by a swarm of monsters?" I asked, locking my gaze with his. "Oh, you must be joking, Hero Nathan." Radakel chuckled, though it felt more like a threat than amusement. "Oscar could have easily fought his way out." "Maybe he encountered a monster stronger than himself?" I suggested. "Perhaps." Radakel muttered not believing at all. "Sienna faced a monster over level eighty in an area where the monsters are usually around level thirty. So, it''s possible that Oscar met an even stronger monster since we were deeper in the wilderness, right, teacher?" I turned to Amelia for support. "Yes, I don''t understand what is strange about that, Lord Radakel?" Amelia said, her confusion evident. "It''s nothing, don''t worry, teacher. Oscar was someone important to them, it''s normal for them to lose their temper and feel angry," I said, trying to soothe her. "Still, they are the ones who summoned us, and we could have died there without Oscar..." Amelia trailed off, clearly remembering the deadly encounter with the snake in the pond. She believed I had narrowly escaped death, unaware that I had been in control the whole time. Reaching out, I grasped Amelia''s hand and smiled reassuringly. "The most important thing is that both of us are alive, Amelia." "N..Nathan..." Amelia blushed, perhaps recalling our unforgettable encounter earlier. Tracing my fingers along her plump lips, I gently cornered her against the wall, our bodies close. "You are so beautiful, Amelia," I whispered, before capturing her lips in a soft kiss. "Hnn~??" she moaned softly against my mouth, her resistance melting away. "I..I am your teacher... Hmmnnn~~" she murmured, her voice betraying her arousal. My hands roamed her curves, feeling the warmth of her body through the fabric of her clothes. I deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her lips, the softness of her skin. "Teacher or not, you deserve to be cherished," I said, my voice low and husky. Amelia''s breath hitched as I nibbled her lower lip. "N..Nathan, we shouldn''t... not here..." Her words were hesitant, but her body told a different story. Her hands clung to my shirt, pulling me closer as if she couldn''t bear the thought of separating. I let my hand slide down her back, pulling her closer, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. "Oh~~mmn!" Amelia let out a sensual moan when I sealed her lips with mine. Her voice was soft, full of need and desire, and it sent a thrill through my entire body. My hands roamed beneath her blouse, fingers tracing the soft curves of her breasts with hunger. I could feel her heartbeat quickening beneath my touch, her body responding to every caress. Her skin was warm and smooth, and the feel of it only made me want her more. Oh, God curse me. Chapter 48 Goddess Aphrodites Curiosity 48 Goddess Aphrodite''s Curiosity My hands roamed beneath her blouse, fingers tracing the soft curves of her breasts with hunger. I could feel her heartbeat quickening beneath my touch, her body responding to every caress. Her skin was warm and smooth, and the feel of it only made me want her more. Oh, God curse me. "Oh~~mmn!" Amelia let out a sensual moan when I sealed her lips with mine. Her voice was soft, full of need and desire, and it sent a thrill through my entire body. My hands roamed beneath her blouse, fingers tracing the soft curves of her breasts with hunger. I could feel her heartbeat quickening beneath my touch, her body responding to every caress. Her skin was warm and smooth, and the feel of it only made me want her more. "Hnnn~??" she moaned again, arching her back slightly as my hands continued their exploration. I teased her nipples, feeling them harden under my fingertips, and Amelia''s breath hitched. Her hands clutched at my shirt, pulling me closer as our kiss deepened. I broke the kiss momentarily, looking into her eyes. They were half-lidded with lust, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. "You like that, don''t you?" I whispered, my voice husky with desire. "Y-yes..." She admitted, her voice barely audible. Her vulnerability only fueled my desire to make her feel even more pleasure. Even though I had fucked her just this morning, I wanted already to fuck my beautiful teacher again. I lowered my head, placing gentle kisses along her jawline and down her neck. She tilted her head back, giving me better access, and I took the opportunity to suck lightly on her pulse point. "Nathan~~mnnn??..." She gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair. Encouraged by her reaction, I continued my journey downwards, pulling her blouse aside to kiss the swell of her breasts. My hands moved to unfasten her bra, freeing her breasts from their confinement. I took one nipple into my mouth, sucking and licking it gently while my other hand continued to knead and massage the other breast. "Oh! Oh, Nathan..." Amelia''s moans grew louder, her body trembling with the intensity of her arousal. I could feel her nipples harden even more against my tongue, and I couldn''t help but smirk at the effect I was having on her. Her moans kept ringing in the empty corridor of the royal castle as I and Amelia enjoyed ourselves in a taboo act. "What is it, Nathan? You seem deep in thought. Is Aiden bullying you again?" Amelia asked, concern coloring her voice. I looked at Amelia, pondering the rapidly changing situation. It felt like my time here was running out. I might have only a few days left. I kissed Amelia gently on the lips and shook my head. "It''s nothing," I reassured her, though my mind was already racing for my next movements. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã In the grand palace of Olympus, a realm suspended high in the sky where the Gods resided, a figure stood gazing down upon the human world below. This figure was a woman of divine beauty, her bright pink hair flowing like a cascade of cherry blossoms, and her shimmering, beautiful pink eyes reflecting the light of the heavens. She wore a white tunic that clung to her sinfully perfect form, accentuating her voluptuous curves and hiding her ample bosom with an elegance that only enhanced her allure. Among the Goddesses of Olympus, she was renowned for her unparalleled beauty, rivaled only by Athena and Hera. She was Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love and Beauty. Aphrodite rarely visited Olympus, preferring the company of mortals and the pleasures of the earthly realm. However, this time, she had ascended to the divine heights with a specific purpose in mind. She sought a better view of the Empire of Light, a kingdom where the Gods of Olympus were revered and worshipped with fervent devotion. Why was she so interested in this particular mortal kingdom? Curiosity. It was curiosity that drove her to observe a certain young man with white hair. From what she could discern, he appeared to be ordinary, even below average by human standards. Yet, there was something about him that piqued her interest¡ªsomething that involved Khione. Khione had been spending an unusual amount of time with this young man, Nathan. Despite Khione''s attempts to obscure their interactions, preventing even a Goddess like Aphrodite from seeing everything, it was clear that Khione regarded Nathan with a seriousness that was out of character for her. Aphrodite''s curiosity deepened as she watched Nathan kiss his teacher, a woman named Amelia. Her plump pink lips curled into a smile, a spark of intrigue lighting up her eyes. "Interesting." No?v(el)B\\jnn Chapter 49 Night Discussion with Aisha 49 Night Discussion with Aisha "I know you''re here," Aisha called out, her voice clear and steady. "As expected of one of the strongest Heroes," I replied, stepping out from my hiding place. It was a pitch-black night, and as always, Aisha was out here, training alone under the stars, her sword slicing through the air with precise, practiced movements. For the past few weeks, I had been observing her. She never skipped a day of training, her dedication and seriousness unwavering. "I''m not a strong Hero," Aisha said, lowering her sword, her breath visible in the cool night air. "You are, though," I insisted, shaking my head. I understood what she meant¡ªshe was comparing herself to the very best. But in truth, she was stronger than most of our classmates. Only Jason, Aiden, Sienna, and Gwen could claim to surpass her. "Not enough," Aisha replied quietly, a note of frustration in her voice. I activated the Eye of Odin and glanced at her level. Lvl 53. It was impressively high, all things considered. She simply faced more challenges in leveling up compared to the others. "Why do you want to become so strong?" I asked, walking over to a nearby bench and taking a seat. Aisha remained silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Was this a sensitive subject? I was confident she would eventually open up to me; we had grown quite close over the past few weeks. "On Earth, I felt strong," she began, her voice soft. "My family protected me, I excelled in both academics and sports; I thought I was safe until one of my father''s friends tried to attack me." "How do you know I''m training outside and not doing something else?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I''m not that stupid," she replied, giving me a scrutinizing look. "I know you''re training, but..." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied me closely. "It seems you aren''t progressing well." I smiled, grateful for the special Ring Artifact Khione had given me. It looked like a spatial ring, which it was, but it also had the ability to alter my level and presence. Even Radakel couldn''t tell that I was stronger than all the other Heroes, thanks to this artifact. Khione had managed to get it for me despite being closely watched by several gods. That''s why I couldn''t ask her to bring me SSS-ranked skills or any other powerful artifacts. She had offered, but I refused. I preferred to pick my skills directly from the countless books in the library. The number of skills I could possess depended largely on my level and my personal ability to handle them, so I was careful about my selections for now. Moreover, one single mistake could doom us both. If we slipped up, all the gods of Olympus would come down upon us, and I would be killed without hesitation. "I''m progressing just fine," I said, my smile widening. "I guess I''m just good at hiding it." Aisha looked skeptical but didn''t press further. She took another sip of water, her eyes briefly meeting mine before she looked away. The night was serene, the stars twinkling above us as if they were watching over our secret conversation. "Why do you hide your strength?" She asked after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. She was asking about the way I was feigning too much weakness with Oscar and the others. Even though I was weak from her point of view, the way I acted with the others sounded like I was hella weak which wasn''t the case. She had been watching me very well, I was quite proud of that since it means she was interested in me. "It''s safer this way," I replied, my tone serious. "For both of us. The Empire is full of dangers, and not just from the monsters we fight." Aisha turned to look at me before quickly erasing her surprise. I said exactly what was on her mind but she never revealed it to anyone. "The only ones we can count on are ourselves and our close friends," I said, grasping her soft hand. Aisha didn''t react as she was looking ahead. She could hear my words deeply resonating within her. My [Deep Voice] and Luck were active all this time after all. Chapter 50 Nancy After a pleasant moment with Aisha, I decided to skip my usual training session. Khione was still recovering from our intense time together, and I needed to meet someone else. I had stopped by to check on Aisha as usual. It was a relief that I didn''t need to instill doubt in her about the Empire of Light¡ªshe was already wary of it. My subtle words, enhanced with the Deep Voice ability, likely worsened her opinion of the empire, which was precisely what I intended. Next, I needed to influence Amelia, my two stepsisters Courtney and Gwen, if possible. Convincing the first four would be easier since Amelia and Courtney already trusted me to some extent. Amelia knew me well, especially after our encounter yesterday morning. As for Courtney, ironically, despite my daily threats and forcing her to kiss me, I hadn''t violated her boundaries, which made her start to trust me. She was probably puzzled why I threatened her if not for her body, but that doubt was good. Her uncertainty had turned into interest and frustration. Courtney had never asked why I didn''t take things further¡ªshe''d be too embarrassed to ask that¡ªbut the curiosity served my purpose. If I told her to be wary of the Empire and never to trust them, she would likely believe it. The most problematic one was Gwen. I had a special liking for her because she was one of the rare girls who didn''t care about popularity, appearances, or superficial things. She often ignored Jason''s advances, showing her strong character. She was naturally cautious, but I wanted to ensure her safety since I appreciated her. Winning Gwen over would take much more time and effort than with Courtney or Amelia but I might still be able to say a few words to her. Except for Amelia, Courtney, and Gwen, there were three critical individuals I needed to win over, and they were deeply embedded within the Empire, making the task extremely challenging. These individuals were Cecilia, Empress Helana, and Princess Adelia. But I had my own plans for them. I intended to cuckold the Emperor and Jason once again, using the Emperor''s own arrogance against him. Activating my Stealth Cap¡ªa Rank C Skill and the very first one I had obtained¡ªmy body became shrouded in an invisible cloak. This skill consumed a significant amount of mana, so I typically avoided using it. However, tonight was different. The Emperor was likely engaging in one of his secret night sessions again, and I needed to act. I swiftly moved through the darkened corridors, reaching the stairs and descending them in a series of agile jumps. Once I arrived on the ground floor of the castle, I navigated through a dimly lit alley on the opposite side of the training field. Ahead, two guards were stationed at a door. I picked up a small stone and threw it at a window on the first floor above, slightly shattering the glass. "What was that?!" one guard exclaimed. "You heard it! Check it out!" the other commanded. 21:22 The Emperor, seemingly kind and understanding in front of us, now revealed his true nature. He was fucking a girl the age of his daughter¡ªa Hero he had summoned and promised to protect, especially to Amelia, without a trace of shame. "Come down, little bitch!" Philip commanded, pulling Nancy''s arm down and forcing her onto her knees, her butt raised provocatively toward him. "Ahn, yes, Emperor! Han!" Nancy complied, resting her hands on the bed, looking back at Philip with a lustful smile. Philip grinned wickedly and thrust into her dripping pussy with force. "AHNNNN????!!!" Nancy''s loud moan echoed through the room, filled with pleasure and submission. In his defense, though, I was pretty sure it was Nancy who seduced him. With her newfound charm from her awakening and her inherently manipulative nature, she quickly ensnared him. The Emperor likely saw no harm in indulging himself with a young Heroine offering herself so willingly. But Nancy''s motivations were clear. With no real assets and a weak skill, she sought protection and safety. She offered her virginity to the Emperor, and now she fucked him every night in secret, ensuring her position. I could have told Amelia about this, shattering her faith in the Emperor and the Empire. But I chose not to, for several reasons. Firstly, because I knew Amelia well enough to understand that she would be devastated. She would blame herself for failing to protect one of her students, believing she had driven Nancy to such desperate measures. I didn''t want to see her suffer like that. Secondly, if Amelia learned that the Emperor had violated one of her students, she would undoubtedly react rashly. Her anger and sense of betrayal might lead her to make dangerous decisions, and I couldn''t afford to let her jeopardize herself or our precarious position. So, I let the Emperor continue to fuck Nancy. From the way she moaned and writhed beneath him, it was clear she was satisfied with the arrangement. She had secured her place in this world, albeit through morally dubious means. Not like I cared anyway, rather I was grateful because she occupied this Emperor while I''d do his wife and daughter. I started recording this incident with a rectangular device that Khione had specifically gotten for me. Even though my phone is dead, there are still ways to record things in this world. This is the benefit of having the Goddess on your side: you can get the majority of what you desire. Even if I would have gotten more if it weren''t for the Gods that are watching us. Keeping my relation with Khione secret was essential as long as I''m weaker than the Gods Chapter 51 Empress Helana (1) 51 Empress Helana (1) After recording a good portion of Nancy moaning while being fucked by the Emperor from behind, I silently left the hidden alcove and made my way towards the floor reserved for the royals. My Stealth Cap made it easy to evade the vigilant guards and enter the exclusive area without drawing any attention. The corridor was a dazzling display of opulence, with walls adorned in intricate gold leaf designs and chandeliers that sparkled like a thousand stars. It wasn''t my first time here, but the grandeur of the castle never failed to amaze me. At the far end of this corridor lay the royal bedroom of the Emperor and Empress. Adelia''s bedroom was on my left, a little further down, while the Prince''s room was on my right. Geoffrey, the Prince, was someone I could never take seriously. Despite his royal status, he was frequently rejected by the likes of Aisha, Gwen, and Sienna. His position as heir to the Empire was precarious, especially with the growing rumors that his sister Adelia might soon bear a child with Geoffrey. Ironically, I might be doing him an unintended favor tonight. I knocked lightly on the door three times before opening it with a quiet creak. "N...Nathan?" There, on the lavish bed, was an incredibly beautiful woman who seemed to be in her mid-twenties, despite having two children. She was the Empress, Helana Raydawn. Dressed in a sheer white negligee that clung to her voluptuous figure, her honey-blonde hair cascaded loosely around her face, suggesting she had been resting. Her blue eyes, filled with a mix of relief and anticipation, looked up at me. "I thought you wouldn''t come..." Helana mumbled, raising her body slightly. "Were you desiring me that much, Helana?" I asked with a sly smile. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she glanced away, momentarily shy. The Empress of the mighty Empire, reduced to a woman yearning for my touch¡ªit was an intoxicating power. I walked over to her, the soft carpet muffling my steps. "You look stunning as always," I whispered, my fingers tracing the delicate lace of her negligee. Her breath hitched at my touch, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily. "Here, I couldn''t bring more, they are well kept by Philip," Helana said, handing me a book with an ancient, worn appearance. It was a tome of ancient skills long forgotten by time, guarded fiercely by the Emperor in his private library. Yet, I had managed to get my hands on it by playing with his wife, a task made easier with evidence of his indiscretions with Nancy. Initially, I had threatened Helana, but recognizing her own desires, I softened my approach, and it worked wonders. "As expected of my Empress," I smiled, taking the book from her hands. I examined the book with satisfaction, knowing it might contain valuable skills I could learn. Carefully, I placed it into my spatial ring for safekeeping. "By the way, you might already be aware, but your Emperor is currently fucking Nancy," I said, showing her the recording on my device. "Mnnn~~??" Helana let out a muffled moan as I sealed her lips with mine. Still massaging her breasts, I leaned in, capturing her mouth in a ferocious kiss. My tongue licked her lips, prying them open with a possessive hunger. "Mnnn!" Helana''s eyes widened in surprise as my tongue invaded her mouth, exploring her depths with fervor. She tasted sweet, a mix of honey and forbidden fruit, and I could feel her body responding to my advances. Her hands found their way to my back, her fingers clutching at my shirt, pulling me closer. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us growing more intense with each passing second. "Mother!!" Suddenly a voice erupted from behind us. We turned around. The door was opened and there with a face of disbelief was Princess Adelia. I smirked inwardly. She took her time but I calculated the timing perfectly. I added new illustrations of Helana, Adelia and Cecilia also for Aisha and Siara since they didn''t appear. Tell me if you see any problem this time :) Juan_Tenorio Chapter 52 Empress Helana (2) 52 Empress Helana (2) "Mother!!" "A... Adelia..." Helana''s face turned ashen as she quickly pulled away from me, her expression a mixture of fear and guilt. "What are you doing?!" Adelia''s voice was filled with shock and disbelief as she stood frozen at the doorway. "I... I can explain," Helana stammered, hastily adjusting the strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder. "Explain what? I saw you..." Adelia''s eyes darted between her mother and me, her face contorted with confusion and anger. Helana''s face was flushed, her lips still glistening with the remnants of our kiss. There was no hiding the intimacy that had just occurred. "L... Listen, Adelia, I just needed some support..." Helana attempted to explain, her voice trembling with desperation. "H... How can you do this? Father is¡ª" "Don''t blame Helana. She hasn''t done anything wrong," I interjected firmly, stepping forward to defend her. "Nathan..." Helana looked at me with a mix of gratitude and anxiety, her eyes pleading for understanding. I smiled reassuringly and took her hand in mine. "Don''t worry, I will handle this." "Hero Nathan, anything you say won''t undo what has happened... My father will have you hanged if he learns about this affair," Adelia warned, her fists clenched in fury. "Your stupid father won''t have a say in this, and you hold him in far too high regard," I replied confidently. Adelia glared at me, her anger boiling over at my dismissal of her father. "Insulting the Emperor, even for a Hero, is a grave offense. Not even Amelia Carter will be able to save you from the consequences." "I''m merely stating the truth," I said calmly, reaching for my recording device. With a tap, I played the incriminating footage. "You''ll stay frozen until I finish showing you," I said. "What do you mean?" Adelia asked, her confusion evident. "I mean I''m going to show you how happy your mother is with me, and how much happier she can be," I said, a smirk playing on my lips as I approached Helana, my hand gently caressing her flushed cheek. "Nathan... this isn''t..." Helana''s words faltered as she glanced nervously at her daughter, then back at me. "Don''t worry," I murmured softly into her ear, my breath warm against her skin. "You want your daughter to accept us, don''t you? The best way to do that is to show her how happy we are together. And you want me too, don''t you?" "Do you know how much I think about you, Nathan?" She whispered back, her voice barely audible. "Every night, I imagine you coming to me, filling the emptiness my husband leaves behind." I leaned in closer, my lips grazing her ear. "Then let me fulfill your fantasies, Helana." With a soft gasp, she tilted her head back, offering her lips to me. I captured them in a deep, passionate kiss, my hands roaming her body with possessive intent. She melted against me, her body arching into my touch as if she had been waiting for this moment forever. I broke the kiss, trailing my lips down her neck, leaving a path of fire in my wake. "You''ve been neglected for far too long," I whispered against her skin, my voice a husky promise of what was to come. "Nathan... please..." Helana''s voice was breathless, filled with a desperate need that matched my own. "M..mother?" Adelia was shocked. I smirked and pushed Helana''s negligee off her shoulders, exposing her bare breasts to the cool air. Her nipples were already hard, begging for attention. I took one into my mouth, sucking and nibbling gently, while my hand continued to knead the other. "Ahhh~ Nathan??!" she cried out, her back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure coursed through her body. Switching to the other breast, I lavished it with the same attention, savoring her gasps and moans. Her hands tangled in my hair, holding me to her as if afraid I might stop. Leaving a trail of kisses down her body, I moved lower, my destination clear. I paused at the waistband of her panties, looking up at her. "May I?" I asked, my fingers hooking into the delicate fabric. "Yes... please, Nathan." Chapter v 53 Empress Helana (3) * Leaving a trail of kisses down her body, I moved lower, my destination clear. I paused at the waistband of her panties, looking up at her. "May I?" I asked, my fingers hooking into the delicate fabric. "Yes... please, Nathan," she begged, her hips lifting slightly to aid in their removal. I slid her panties down her legs, revealing her glistening pussy. She was soaked, her arousal evident. I spread her legs wider, positioning myself between them. I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste her. "Mmmm~??" Helana moaned, her hips bucking against my mouth. "T..this is...stop it!" Adelia was blushing bright red averting her eyes. I delved deeper, my tongue exploring every inch of her, savoring Helana''s taste. My fingers joined in, slipping inside her wet heat, curling and stroking her sensitive spots. "Haaa??...Haaann??...Haaa??..." Helana''s moans grew louder, her hands clutching the sheets as she writhed in pleasure. "Nathan... oh God... yes!" she cried out, her body trembling on the edge. Sensing she was close, I increased the intensity, my fingers and tongue working in tandem to push her over the edge. With a final cry of ecstasy, Helana came, her juices flooding my mouth. I drank her in, not wasting a single drop. "Sluurp." I moved back up her body, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips. "You''re incredible, Helana," I murmured, positioning myself at her entrance. "Please, Nathan... I need you inside me," she whispered, her blue eyes locked onto mine. I smirked and pushed her gently back onto the bed, her blond hair fanning out around her. I took a moment to appreciate her beauty, the sight of the powerful Empress laying before me, vulnerable and eager. Slowly, I began to completely remove her dress, savoring every inch of exposed skin. I moved with deliberate slowness, drawing out her pleasure, making sure she felt every touch, every kiss. Her skin was soft and warm under my hands, her taste intoxicating. Finally, when she was on the brink of losing control, I positioned myself between her legs, teasing her entrance with the tip of my cock, coating it with her nectar. "Are you ready, Helana?" I asked, looking into her eyes. "Yes, Nathan... take me," she begged, her voice filled with need. "Haaaan??!!" Her cry of ecstasy pierced the air as I thrust deeply into her, the intensity of our connection amplifying with every movement. Her warm nectar gushed out, bathing my length and soaking the luxurious royal sheets beneath us, adding an exquisite layer of sensuality to our fervent embrace. "Ahn??...ahn??...hnnn??" Grabbing her ass firmly, I smirked and thrust again. "Ohhhh....so gooooood!!" she moaned, her voice filled with pleasure. "Good, right?" I asked, quickly picking up a fast pace. "Ahnnn??...aahnnnnn??...haaaaaaa??....yessss??...na...nathan...soooo goood.....yesss moreee????!" Helana was completely lost in pleasure, her moans echoing around the room. Her hands, bracing against the bed, trembled with each thrust, losing strength. But I held her steady by her ass, ensuring she stayed in position. "Ugnn..." I grunted as Helana''s pussy squeezed my cock tightly once more. Is this how much she had been holding back? A hungry milf with a thirsty pussy is really something else. I accelerated my thrusts, taking full control. Helana''s body was at my mercy as I fucked her doggy-style, her daughter watching every moment. "AHNNN??! N..Nathann...SOMETHING IS ...AHNNNN??...COMING....AHNNNNN???? ...HAAA??" "F..Fuckkkk....ha..." I breathed heavily as I thrust deeply into Helana''s pussy, releasing another torrent of my semen, my glans pressing against the deepest part of her womb, filling her with my seed. Helana, having orgasmed once more, was completely drained of energy as she collapsed on the bed with her ass still sticking out giving a perfect visibility on her dripping pussy. I kissed her shoulder and said, "Helana, your body is amazing." I then took out my cock, letting a lot of my semen and her combined nectar seep out. I got off the bed and turned to face her daughter. "So what? Did you enjoy it? / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 54 Nathans True Face and Strength 54 Nathan''s True Face and Strength I got off the bed and turned to face her daughter. "So what? Did you enjoy it?" Adelia''s face was bright red, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Despite her best efforts, she couldn''t look away. Was it curiosity, perhaps? As she watched my dick pounding into her mother and our intense lovemaking for ten minutes, she was unable to tear her eyes away. "T..This is so shameful...mother..." Adelia''s voice trembled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You think so? Then you must be as shameful as her," I teased, reaching out to place a hand on her thigh. "W...What are you...hnn~" Adelia moaned with just a single touch, her body betraying her heightened sensitivity after watching such an intense display of passion. "What is this?" I asked, showing her my index finger coated with a white substance. A slick, sticky fluid had dripped from her panties down to her thigh. It was her own nectar. "T..This..." Adelia averted her gaze, her face a stark contrast to her usual composed, princess-like demeanor. She was now completely ashamed and undeniably aroused. I licked my finger with a satisfied smile. "Hmm. You taste a little like your mother. As expected you are truly mother and daughter." "Y-You... s-stop it..." Adelia stammered, her eyes unable to meet mine. She couldn''t reconcile with the fact that she had just climaxed in front of me and her own mother, merely from watching us. "Well, get used to it. You''re next," I stated matter-of-factly. "N-Next? No! I... I can''t! I''m promised to the Hero Jason! If they... if my father finds out... it''s over... please..." Adelia shook her head, her eyes filled with desperation as she pleaded. Interesting. First, she didn''t seem to have any real affection for Jason. It appeared more like a duty she felt compelled to fulfill. I had to admit, she played the role of a lovestruck maiden convincingly in public. Second, she seemed terrified of the consequences, quickly invoking her father''s authority. From what I had learned, the Emperor was indifferent to whoever fucked his daughter. According to Khione and my own observations, the Emperor was preoccupied with his own indulgences, often seeking out virgins. Nancy, however, seemed to have a special hold over him, monopolizing his attention. Adelia''s true fear wasn''t her father but rather "them"¡ªthe Divine Knights who wielded the real power behind the Empire of Light. Khione''s gaze flickered briefly to the Empress Helana, who was passed out on the bed after our intense sex, before settling back on Adelia. "This is my order and my wish. Nathan Parker is better suited for you than Jason Spencer," Khione declared. "P-Pardon my rudeness, Goddess Khione, but... Lord Arapiel told me that Hero Jason was better¡ª" "I don''t care about whatever Arapiel said to you, Adelia," Khione interrupted firmly. "Y-Yes, Great Goddess," Adelia responded, though confusion lingered on her face. "Personal feelings aren''t important here, Adelia," Khione continued, noticing Adelia''s puzzled expression. She seemed to think Adelia might be in love with Jason, but that wasn''t the issue. "N-No, not at all, Goddess Khione. I-I was just wondering why Hero Nathan has been chosen instead of Hero Jason, who has an SSS Skill and the strongest Hero Skill..." Adelia hesitated, seeking clarity. Khione looked at me, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, wondering what I might say next. "It''s fine, Goddess Khione," I reassured her with a smile, raising my hand and removing my ring. BADOOOM! The room seemed to shake as an immense pressure filled the space. Khione widened her eyes and quickly erected a barrier, sealing the room to prevent any of my mana and presence from leaking out, even to the Gods. "This... this..." Adelia stammered, standing up immediately. Her eyes were wide with shock and a hint of terror. The moment the ring was off, there was nothing to contain my true presence and power. My Level 73 aura, combined with my absurd stats, my absurd LUCK surpassing those of Gods themselves, and my Forbidden Skill, radiated around me. My hair turned an even purer shade of white, matching Khione''s, and my eyes glowed a vivid icy blue. My face, already surpassing mortal beauty, now bore the ethereal perfection of a demi-god, with skin utterly flawless and white as snow. I flashed a smile at Adelia. "I''m actually stronger than all the Heroes combined." / / / DISCORD LINK FOR ILLUSTRATIONS OF WAIFUS: https://discord.gg/XK9V444W (check synopsis to access) If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 55 Plans of Rebellion 55 Plans of Rebellion "I''m actually stronger than all the Heroes combined." Adelia was beyond shocked, her eyes wide with disbelief and fear. Khione had given me the ring precisely to avoid such reactions from others. In the days following my absorption of Khione''s divine energy, the side effects had become apparent. They intensified with each intimate encounter, synchronizing us further. The rapid growth of my power had quickly become dangerous, necessitating the concealment provided by the ring. I was relieved that no Gods seemed to have noticed me yet, thanks to Khione''s swift interventions. As it stood, only Khione, Adelia, and to some extent, Helana, were aware of my true strength. Helana knew I was powerful, but she had never seen the full extent of my abilities until now. I had to admit, it was irritating to have to hide my true appearance and strength. Being constantly in close proximity to Khione so she could shield us from divine detection was stifling. But it was the price I had to pay for safety. The castle felt increasingly confining, and I knew the time was approaching when I would need to leave. Radakel already had suspicions about me, and I had no idea what the other Divine Knights thought. I could only hope they were too preoccupied with their endless battles against the Demons to notice me. "Why are you hiding this much power? You are stronger than the Hero Jason, Aiden or Sienna..." Adelia''s voice trailed off as she looked at me, her eyes wide with awe before she averted her gaze. My appearance seemed overwhelming, much like the first time people saw Khione. "There are reasons for that. I want his strength kept secret from everyone else, even from the Divine Knights. Do you understand?" Khione asserted sternly, playing her role perfectly. "I swear on my honor, I won''t say a word about Hero Nathan," Adelia promised without hesitation. It was reassuring that Adelia trusted Khione so much, even more than she trusted the Divine Knights. Khione''s influence over the Empire was immense, and it was crucial to maintain her pristine image. Any action that could cast even the slightest doubt on her had to be avoided. She needed to have the complete trust of the Empire, including that of the Divine Knights. That''s why I''m avoiding asking her to steal Skill Books from either the Gods or even this castle, I was extremely cautious about it. Not a single doubt should sprout about her. Today, I took a significant risk by revealing my connection to Khione to Adelia. But there was a strategic reason behind it. I wanted to win Adelia''s loyalty and, eventually, her love, just as I aimed to do with the Empress and Cecilia. These three women were immensely influential in the Empire. In the future, I planned to dismantle the Divine Knights, who ruled the Empire from the shadows and posed a serious threat to me and to those I cared about¡ªAmelia, my step-sisters, Aisha, and Gwen. The Divine Knights needed to be eliminated. Moreover, I had lingering doubts about the deaths of previous Heroes that I would need to investigate. "Well, it seems you were warned just in time, Adelia," I said, approaching her and gently touching her cheek. "Ha!" Adelia shivered at my touch, her eyes seemingly glued to my face, losing herself in the depth of my eyes that so closely resembled Khione''s. I quickly slipped my ring back on before she completely lost her composure. "You were about to pay a little night visit to Jason, right? To give yourself to him as you were asked? That''s why you''re wearing that little negligee," I chuckled softly. Adelia''s eyes widened in surprise at how much I knew. She averted her gaze, her face blushing furiously. I had anticipated this. I had intentionally left the door slightly open and timed everything perfectly. Poor Jason was likely waiting alone in his room, excited for nothing, just as he had been with Courtney before I intercepted her. "Well, now you''re mine. Do you understand?" I whispered, my breath tickling her ear. "Hnn~~ I... I know!" Adelia replied, embarrassed. For her, the target had simply changed from Jason to me. Now, it was my responsibility to ensure she loved me and remained loyal. "Good," I said, "Take care of Helana. It''s been a while, and she''s still recovering. Also, change the bedsheets and spray the room to eliminate the lingering scent of sex before your father arrives." With those instructions, I left the room, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Chapter 56 Courtney Falling Slowly Chapter 56 Courtney Falling Slowly Two weeks had passed since that night with Helana and Adelia. The days had settled into a semblance of normalcy, despite the shadow cast by Oscar''s death. The atmosphere among my classmates was tinged with unease; the reality that someone as strong as Oscar could fall weighed heavily on them. But with Amelia''s steady leadership and Cecilia''s unwavering support, they managed to pull themselves together. To them, Oscar''s death was a tragic accident, a misfortune in the face of an overwhelming swarm of monsters. In the wake of this, our training sessions in the forest were approached with heightened caution. Security measures were significantly reinforced, ensuring no one ventured out alone. Yet, despite the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at me. Nothing had happened to me since that night, and it was unsettling. Radakel''s suspicions were almost palpable, and I was certain he was plotting something against me. The problem was, I had no idea what his plans entailed, nor did Khione. I could have asked her to issue another warning about the Heroes'' safety to protect me indirectly, but that might draw unwanted attention to her. Khione had informed me she was already under the scrutiny of several Gods. Her failures with the previous summoned Heroes, who either perished or turned rogue, had made the Gods wary of her and our kind. For now, it was best to let her maintain a facade of normalcy. "Nathan." "Hm?" I tore my gaze away from the book I was engrossed in and saw Courtney standing nearby. As usual, I had been spending my time in the library, attempting to acquire new skills. Courtney was well aware of this routine. "What is it, Courtney?" I asked, closing the book. "The teacher asked for you. We''re going to eat with the royal family," she said. "With the royal family? That''s rather rare. On what occasion?" I asked, placing the book back on the shelf. "I don''t know either. They''ll probably tell us at lunch," she shrugged. I smiled as I stood up. "It''s become quite the habit for you, hasn''t it, Courtney? You''re always the one fetching me when someone calls for me. Were you asked personally, or did you come on your own?" I asked. The way she looked at me now, I could tell that her crush on Jason was long gone. Courtney, who had always hung around Jason along with my younger stepsister, Siara, had now stopped spending time with him. Instead, she spent more time with my elder stepsister, Sienna. Jason, of course, noticed Courtney''s avoidance and the lack of flirtatious behavior she used to show. He tried to talk to her, but Courtney barely responded, treating him like any other ordinary classmate. While he was upset, Jason still had many women flocking around him, so he managed to keep his composure. Ahhhh, I need to do something about Siara. She''s spending too much time around Jason. I know she won''t easily give herself to him, but I still have to intervene somehow. "By the way, how''s your training going? You must have become really strong," I asked, trying to steer the conversation to something more neutral. "Oh, yeah, much stronger than you, that''s for sure," Courtney smirked proudly. I activated the Eye of Odin and checked her stats. Courtney Turner LVL 60. For two weeks, that''s a lot of progress indeed. She was nearing the end of the level forties the last time I saw her in the green forest. "Impressive," I remarked, genuinely impressed. "You''ve really been putting in the effort." Courtney beamed, her earlier nervousness fading away. "Yeah, I''ve been working hard. Now I will be able to fight properly. I am even able to save you, princess if you are in danger." That smile of hers was really beautiful, more radiant than any other smile she had back on Earth. Being around Jason had indeed rotted her personality, but now that she wasn''t hanging around him, she seemed so much better. I fought back the urge to kiss her and simply smiled. "That''s good to hear," I said, nodding. "Keep it up. The stronger we all are, the better our chances against whatever comes our way." Her time will eventually come. Chapter 57 Class Lunch Chapter 57 Class Lunch As we approached the dining hall, the grand double doors swung open, revealing a majestic room bathed in the warm, inviting light of crystal chandeliers. The light danced off the crystal prisms, casting sparkling patterns on the walls. The table was an opulent display, adorned with fine china, polished silverware, and rich, embroidered linens. The aroma of an exquisite feast filled the air, mingling scents of roasted meats, fresh bread, and delicate spices. The royal family was already seated, their presence commanding the room. At the head of the table sat the Emperor, his bearing regal and imposing. His eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned the room with an authoritative air. Beside him, Empress Helana exuded a serene, composed authority. Her gaze, calm and observant, softened slightly when it met mine, revealing a hint of warmth behind her regal facade. Princess Adelia, radiant and graceful, acknowledged me with a small, welcoming smile. "Welcome, Hero Nathan, Hero Courtney," the Emperor intoned, his voice resonating with deep authority. "Please, join us." I hesitated for a moment, surveying the long table and considering where to sit. As a loner and self-proclaimed nerd, I often felt out of place in social settings. Sitting with my step-sisters seemed like a sensible option, but my plans quickly fell apart. Siara was already seated next to Jason, much to my displeasure, and Sienna was surrounded by a group of her admirers. Even in this world, she was idolized just as she had been back on Earth, her status as one of the strongest heroes, alongside Jason and Aiden, cementing her popularity. Sienna''s efforts to protect and help everyone, much like Amelia, earned her the admiration and trust of many, who saw her as a dependable big sister. Courtney, ever perceptive, had her seat reserved. She shot me a look before joining Sienna''s side, her behavior poised and considerate, especially around Jason. Her glance subtly invited me to sit with her, signaling her support, but I had a different idea. I turned my attention to two people seated somewhat apart from the rest, yet unmistakably together despite a single empty seat between them¡ªAisha and Gwen. Both often found solace in each other''s company, sharing a bond forged in their mutual solitude. I filled a plate with an assortment of dishes from the lavish spread, the food glistening enticingly under the chandelier''s light. With my plate in hand, I walked towards them, my steps purposeful. My destination was clear¡ªAisha. "May I sit with you, Aisha?" I asked, my voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. Aisha, who was in the midst of taking a bite, looked up and offered me a small, welcoming smile. "Of course." I could hear a ripple of gasps and murmurs of shock around the room, but I chose to ignore them. With a quiet "thank you," I took the seat next to Aisha. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the envious glares of several men, with Jason''s being the most pronounced. He was trying his best to mask his irritation, but it was clear he was bothered by how effortlessly I had managed to sit next to Aisha, and even more so by the fact that she had welcomed me with a smile. Jason''s usual attempts to flirt with Aisha, thinly veiled under a guise of compassion, were often met with cold, dismissive responses. Aisha saw right through him, which was why she kept her distance. "You took so little to eat. Are you sure it will be enough?" I asked, noticing her plate was sparsely filled. Aisha gave a slight, rueful smile. "I''m still not quite used to the food in this world..." "I asked if you also don''t like the food here," I repeated, nodding toward her plate. Gwen glanced at her plate and then shook her head. "I''m just taking care of my body. That''s all." I understood. Gwen had always been meticulous about her appearance, which was ironic given her apparent disinterest in the attention of boys. "Is that a novel from this world?" I inquired, attempting another friendly question. The best way to get closer to someone like Gwen was to persist despite her annoyed demeanor. "Can''t you see for yourself?" she retorted, her irritation evident. I shrugged, trying to maintain a light tone. "I guess we don''t have many choices but to read books now that our phones are useless. I''ve been spending more time in the library myself," I added with a sigh. This time, Gwen''s reaction was more measured. She glanced at me, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. As I studied her face, I couldn''t help but acknowledge her striking beauty. She was on par with Sienna and Aisha, each of them captivating in their own way. "I don''t spend as much time in the library as you do. I am training contrary to you," Gwen replied. "I hardly see you training, Gwen," Aisha chimed in, suddenly taking my defense with a jab. "Hmph," Gwen huffed, turning her gaze away. I couldn''t help but smile. Gwen''s SS-Skill was quite unique, after all. She didn''t need to train in front of others and bluntly. Despite her aloof exterior, there was more to her than met the eye, and our casual interaction, though tense, felt like a small step toward understanding her better. / Chapter 58 Conflict during Class Lunch Chapter 58 Conflict during Class Lunch "Since when did you guys become so close, I wonder?" The question brought me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see who had spoken. It was Nancy, her lips curling into a smirk. "It doesn''t concern you, Nancy," Aisha responded curtly, well aware of Nancy''s character and the kind of trouble she could stir. "Don''t be so angry, I just asked a question. Aren''t you all curious?" Nancy''s voice carried through the room, drawing everyone''s attention. "How did the little incapable and nerdy Nathan manage to get close to Aisha, of all people?" she asked, her smirk widening. "Ain''t you right, Nancy? I also wonder that! Kakaka!" Aiden quickly joined in, always eager to bash me. His laughter echoed, and his friends, along with a few other classmates who were genuinely curious, joined in. Honestly, I wasn''t upset. I had grown accustomed to their taunts and didn''t really care. However, if any of them insisted too much and crossed a certain line, I was ready to make them regret it. And Nancy was dangerously close to that line. I took a sip of water from my glass, choosing to ignore her. Aisha glanced at Nancy coldly before returning to her meal, clearly unfazed. "She asked you a question, nerd!" Aiden shouted, his glare trying to intimidate me. I noticed Amelia preparing to intervene, but the Emperor distracted her, drawing her attention away. It was peculiar. Until now, Nancy had refrained from her usual antics, likely traumatized by the summoning and the loss of all her influence. So why was she resuming her old behavior so suddenly? Could the Emperor have prompted her? It seemed plausible. Perhaps he had received orders from Radakel or one of the Divine Knights to push me to my limits, to see how much I could tolerate. "Stop it, Aiden! At least when we are eating!" Courtney''s voice cut through the tension, surprising everyone, including Jason. Typically, Courtney remained indifferent to my situation, letting others do as they pleased while she watched and waited for Jason to intervene. But now, she had spoken up, indirectly standing up for me. While others might think she was just upset, I knew she was genuinely trying to help. "What did you say?" Aiden glared at Courtney, his anger barely restrained. "Aiden." A cold voice rang out, cutting through the room. It was Sienna. She fixed Aiden with a frosty stare. "Leave my brother alone, will you?" He smiled gracefully, placing his hand on his chest. "I greet all the Great Heroes respectfully. I''m Radakel, a Divine Knight of the Empire of Light." So, they finally chose to reveal themselves publicly. Was it because of Oscar''s death? Or was there another reason? "Oh my god, he''s so handsome!" "I can''t believe it!" The girls'' excited squeals filled the room, but the smarter ones were clearly cautious. Sienna, Gwen, and Aisha, in particular, seemed wary. They could sense that Radakel was a dangerous presence, even if they couldn''t discern his exact power level. Philip smiled broadly. "Radakel is one of the strongest warriors of our Empire, even stronger than Oscar. He will now oversee your training along with Cecilia. You''ll see, he will make you even stronger," he added with a laugh. Radakel chuckled softly. "The Emperor has high hopes for me, but I will do my best to make all the Great Heroes even greater," he said, his benevolent smile masking a deeper intent. "Aisha, this person is dangerous. Be careful with him," I said loud enough for both Aisha and Gwen, who were seated near her, to hear. Aisha glanced at me, puzzled by my warning and curious about how and why I had come to that conclusion, but she nodded in acknowledgment. Gwen gave me a brief, thoughtful look before turning her attention back to Radakel. "If you are truly stronger than Oscar, why didn''t you help us from the beginning? Oscar could still be alive if it had been you instead of him. Were you hiding for some reason?" Sienna asked, her voice laced with suspicion. Good question, Sienna. "S... Sienna..." Amelia called out softly with a sigh. It looked like she had asked the same question before and had already received an answer. Radakel maintained his calm demeanor. "I had other matters to attend to outside the Empire. Far greater dangers lurk beyond our borders that required my attention. But fear not, I will be by your side from now on." Sienna remained skeptical, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scrutinized him. "To prove myself to both the Great Heroes and the Empire, I haven''t come empty-handed," Radakel continued, his smile broadening. "Tomorrow, we will venture outside the capital to Uteska, a small village on the western side of the Empire." "What are we going to do there?" Jason asked, his curiosity piqued. Radakel''s smile twisted into something almost sinister. "Demon Extermination." Chapter 59: The Morning before leaving Demon Extermination. That''s what Radakel said. As the soft morning light seeped through the curtains, I stirred awake in my bed. I swung my legs over the side and stood, stretching before pulling back the heavy fabric that shielded my room from the dawn. The sunlight flooded in, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. From my window, I gazed out over the capital of the Empire of Light. The city was already alive with activity, the streets filled with the hustle and bustle of nobles going about their morning routines. These wealthy aristocrats, wrapped in their finery and importance, shared a common fear and hatred: the Demons. This fear had not waned over the years. The first group of Heroes, summoned a hundred years ago, had failed to vanquish the Demon King. The second group, called upon seventy years ago, had met the same fate. Despite these failures, the hope of the populace remained unbroken. They fervently believed that this third group of Heroes would succeed where the others had not. However, I couldn''t help but question this optimism. According to Khione, the previous Heroes were more powerful than our current group. The excitement of the Emperor and the Knights seemed overblown, based more on hope than fact. Emperor Philip, after all, hadn''t even been born when the last Heroes made their attempt. The same was true for most of the current population. Among the few who had any real connection to the past Heroes were Jason, Aiden, Sienna, Aisha, and Gwen. As for me, Khione considered my abilities to be extraordinary, likening me to the very first Heroes. While this was meant to be a compliment, I wasn''t sure how to feel about it. Should I be pleased with this comparison? I wasn''t certain. I had no intention of becoming a mere pawn for the Empire of Light or, more specifically, the Divine Knights. Their singular goal was the extermination of the Demons, driven by a desire to elevate their nation to the pinnacle of power. They were prepared to go to any lengths to achieve this, and I often wondered if their motives were more selfish than altruistic. Yes, the Demon King was undoubtedly a villain, a being of pure malevolence. The books I had read and Khione''s accounts painted a clear picture of his evil nature. He had slaughtered innocents and sought to conquer the continent for his own gain. His strength was immense, rivaling that of the Gods. The Gods, though, were undeniably arrogant. They didn''t even consider the Demon King a significant enough threat to warrant their intervention. I couldn''t entirely blame them; they seemed preoccupied with other, more perilous dangers elsewhere. Yet, Khione appeared to be the only one genuinely concerned about the Demon King''s menace. She had initially tried to defeat him using the warriors of this world, the Divine Knights, but countless of them had died in battle over the centuries. Her frustration grew as she watched their futile efforts. So, 150 years ago, she took a different approach and summoned the first group of Heroes. According to her, they nearly succeeded in killing the Demon King, but for reasons even she didn''t fully understand, they ultimately failed. "I won''t be around for the next few days," she said. "Why?" I asked, turning to face her. "A war is brewing in the Achaeans continent," she replied. "Achaeans?" I echoed, trying to recall where I''d heard that name before. "Yes, a Princess of Sparta has been abducted by a Trojan Prince. The main Gods of Olympus are called up, and I am among them," she explained. A princess kidnapped? A Trojan Prince? The setting seemed eerily familiar, almost like a story I''d heard long ago. "Just a few days?" I asked, needing to clarify how long she would be absent. "Yes," she confirmed with a nod. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 60: Parting Gift For Khione * A princess kidnapped? A Trojan Prince? The setting seemed eerily familiar, almost like a story I''d heard long ago. "Just a few days?" I asked, needing to clarify how long she would be absent. "Yes," she confirmed with a nod. "A shame, I won''t be able to fuck you for a few days then," I sighed, but a smile quickly spread across my face. "But I don''t want you to forget the taste of my semen until then." Khione gave me a serious yet weary look before approaching me. Kneeling carefully on the expensive carpet, she unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants, and reached in to pull out my almost erect cock. I held my cock, and Khione glanced down, staring at my engorged length. Her expression shifted from serious to something unreadable. Did she just gulp? "Make sure to draw all my semen, Khione," I said, stroking her white hair. Her eyes lit up, and she pursed her lips, running her tongue around her red lips as she gazed at my cock. In response, it twitched. Reaching out, she wrapped her small, pretty hand around the shaft of my hard cock. Her cool, soft touch made me swell larger as blood pumped into my cock. Khione started pumping her hand up and down, her grip surprisingly firm. I realized she had become accustomed to giving me blowjobs over the past month. When my cock was fully erect, I motioned for Khione to bend down. Obeying, she leaned over my cock, giving me a tantalizing view of her pert tits under her white dress. "Kiss it, first," I commanded. "Chh~" Khione gently kissed the tip of my cock, causing it to jump. The sensation of her soft lips on the sensitive head felt wonderful. "Take it into your mouth, now," I urged her. Nodding, she pulled back the foreskin from my hard cock and bent over again. This time, she opened her mouth and slid her pink lips over my cock, drawing it into her hot mouth. I couldn''t resist bucking my hips slightly as her tongue slid over the sensitive head, encased in her mouth. She then took my cock further into her mouth, sliding her pink lips down the shaft until the tip hit the back of her throat. Slowly, she pulled back, her lips tightly wrapped around me until my hard cock popped out of her mouth. Then she established a steady rhythm, leading my cock to fuck her mouth. "Look at me," I commanded. Khione headed to the washbasin, and I watched with a satisfied smile as she cleaned her face, mouth, and hair. While she took her time, I quickly made my final preparations. "I should go; Samuel is looking for me," she said, likely fearing I would insist on one last fuck despite our tight schedule. As much as I wanted her one last time before our separation, we didn''t have the time. "Samuel is a Divine Knight, right? Is he trustworthy?" I asked about her bodyguard, who had been shadowing her since the beginning. Khione nodded. "The only one I trust among the Divine Knights." "That much?" I approached her and wrapped my arm around her waist. "Haa??!" She moaned, her body responding immediately to my touch, sending tremors through her. As expected, she was dripping wet. I smirked and kissed her deeply. "Hnnn~??" "Your body only belongs to me, understood?" I whispered, hugging her tightly. "Ahnnn~yes..." She replied, her cheeks flushed, doing her best to hold back. It was cute to see her grit her teeth with a blushing face. "Good." I finally let her go, and she quickly disappeared. My expression turned stern the moment she left. With Khione away for a few days, I would be left to handle Radakel and the others alone. And it started right away with the demon killing. I needed to be very careful. Chapter 61: Before Leaving Outside the castle walls, all of us¡ªHeroes and knights alike¡ªstood ready. These knights were not the usual kind; their armor was distinct, and their gazes were cold and stern. They were knights under the Divine Knights, sent by Radakel to either protect us or lead the attack. "Is everyone gathered and ready?" Radakel asked, his eyes sweeping over the assembled group. I glanced around. Most of us were indeed present, except for those who were still too scared to fight. Nancy was notably absent. There was no need to guess what Nancy planned to do while we were away, especially since Amelia, who usually kept an eye on her, wouldn''t be around. Nancy would likely enjoy herself with the Emperor, getting even closer to him. I just hoped she was doing it to secure her position and not for any other nefarious reason. "Listen, everyone," Amelia called out, gathering all her students. "Even though Lord Radakel spoke about demon killing, I want you to understand something. They may be Demons, but they are still humanoid figures with intelligence like us. They could have families and lives much like our own. If these Demons try to kill you, then defend yourselves and kill them if your life is in danger, but I don''t want you to go on a killing spree. These knights are here for that. You are not murderers. Keep that in mind." As expected of Amelia, she always knew how to address the tough realities we faced. She wanted us to understand the gravity of taking a life, even that of a Demon, and to think carefully before acting. Jason smiled broadly. "Heard the teacher, everyone! Don''t kill recklessly! We are here to defend the Empire and defeat the Demon King, who has caused countless sufferings! Let''s stay focused so we can all go back home!" "YEAAAAAHHHH!!!" The crowd erupted in cheers, energized by Jason''s charisma. Despite everything, his popularity only seemed to grow. However, not everyone was pleased. Aiden stood apart, clicking his tongue in annoyance at the speech. His eagerness to kill Demons was evident, a stark contrast to Amelia''s measured advice. I expected Aiden to be displeased with Amelia''s speech, but the direction he was heading was beginning to worry me. It wasn''t his well-being that concerned me, but rather the potential havoc he could wreak if he continued to obsess over his newfound strength. Fortunately, he wasn''t the strongest in the class¡ªJason and Sienna held that distinction¡ªand this fact kept his arrogance somewhat in check. Noticing someone on my right listening to Radakel, I approached her. "Cecilia?" "Oh? Hero Nathan?" Cecilia turned and smiled at me. I should also speak with Helena and Adelia, just in case. Speaking of Adelia, I spotted her nearby, her reluctance evident from her expression. "Hero Jason..." She forced a smile as usual, offering parting words to Jason, but this time something was clearly off. Her tone, voice, and expression seemed strained, like they were plastered onto her face. This was because Khione had clearly told her that she was supposed to become mine. It was a Goddess''s order and wish, and Adelia took it very seriously. However, she couldn''t outright reject Jason, as the Divine Knights had plans for her to bear Jason''s child. But Khione''s order took priority, and she was also instructed to keep it secret. It must have been incredibly confusing and difficult for her, but she was handling it remarkably well. "Adelia, I''m going to take down the Demons who dared to attack the Empire," Jason said, flashing a handsome smile that would make any maiden blush. Adelia maintained her usual polite smile without much reaction. "I wish you a good trip and take care of yourself, Hero Jason." You could bet she wasn''t reacting much to his charms. His good looks and smile no longer affected Adelia after she had seen my true face and grown accustomed to our secret conversations. Jason sensed something was off, but being the fool he was, he dismissed his unease when faced with Adelia''s beautiful smile and left, shaking his head. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 62: Talks with Sienna and Radakel When we were all ready, Radakel used a strange skill or magic. I wasn''t entirely sure what he had done, but it was powerful enough to teleport all of us out of the castle''s vicinity. We were all quite shocked by such a display of magic. Teleportation magic or skill? It must be quite rare and very strong, but I doubted it was that simple. First, he had used a staff, and second, I was certain there was some sort of beacon connecting the two places¡ªthe castle and this new location. I looked around and saw a road ahead. No one seemed to notice our sudden appearance, or perhaps Radakel had arranged for this area to be cleared beforehand. "Whoa! That was amazing!" "Did you see it?" "We just teleported!" "This guy is hella strong!" My classmates, as impressionable as ever, were immediately captivated by Radakel''s charisma. Yes, there must be some sort of hidden beacon here. I firmly believed this because a teleportation skill of such a range must be quite impossible otherwise. We were at least several dozen miles away from the capital. It would be worrisome if he could truly perform such a feat unaided. Since I was with him, I needed to better assess his strength and maybe find a weakness. "We are now only a few hours away from the village of Uteska. Let''s not waste time. Knights, surround the Heroes. Another group will go ahead to scout around," Radakel quickly ordered, and his knights obediently set about their tasks. I watched as the knights moved with precision, surrounding us and forming a protective barrier. Another group of knights went ahead, scouting the area to ensure our path was safe. Radakel''s command was firm, and his knights followed without hesitation, demonstrating their discipline and loyalty. Thus, we began our journey, with Radakel leading the way alongside Amelia. They were engaged in a conversation, likely discussing the current situation. Amelia had known Radakel long before we did, so it was natural for her to feel more comfortable talking to him now. By this point, Radakel must have understood the kind of person Amelia was, and I hoped he wouldn''t do anything to betray her trust. "Nathan." I turned to my left and saw Sienna standing there. "Of course. I will do my utmost to answer all the questions of the Hero," he said without hesitation. "Why the Uteska Village?" I asked. "The Uteska Village is a small, isolated community, traditionally inhabited by human villagers who have always been like family to each other. Recently, however, a traveler reported that the villagers seemed to have changed drastically in just a few months. He didn''t recognize any of them, and they all behaved suspiciously. So, I sent one of my best scouts to investigate. He discovered that demons had disguised themselves as humans and were living peacefully in the village," Radakel explained. "You mean..." "Yes, exactly, Hero Nathan. The demons certainly killed all the villagers before settling in the village without any mercy," Radakel nodded with a cold smile. "Did you find their bodies?" I asked. Radakel looked at me with a hint of hidden annoyance, barely showing on his face, but I could tell my question bothered him. It was as if he thought I was doubting him, which, to be honest, I was. "No bodies. The demons aren''t stupid enough to leave evidence of their murders. They probably burned all the bodies to ashes, leaving no trace," he said. I considered asking whether the smoke would have alerted other people nearby but decided against it. "I see," I said simply. "I want Hero Nathan to understand that all demons are creations of evil. I have lived far longer than you and know this world very well. They have caused countless suffering, and peace will only be achieved once the demon race is erased from this world." / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 63: Meal with Aisha... "I want Hero Nathan to understand that all demons are creations of evil. I have lived far longer than you and know this world very well. They have caused countless suffering, and peace will only be achieved once the demon race is erased from this world," Radakel said with a serious face. Was Radakel really trying to convince me despite secretly wanting me dead? It seemed so. At least one thing was clear: Radakel''s hatred for demons ran deep, likely shared by the other Divine Knights. But what about Cecilia? I glanced over at her conversing with Aisha. The Divine Knights didn''t raise her for nothing¡ªthere had to be a reason behind it. We continued our trek for about an hour. Thanks to our enhanced bodies, it was an easy journey, and we could have continued further, but darkness was approaching. Nighttime was when the most dangerous monsters prowled. Amelia insisted that we stop, and Radakel agreed. We found a suitable spot to set up our tents¡ªa wide area surrounded by forest. The knights took turns guarding us, ensuring our safety. With the protection provided by the knights, we could set up our tents with peace of mind. The girls and boys were separated, which frustrated many of my male classmates, but Amelia was adamant about maintaining caution in such a dangerous environment. While the boys, including myself, set up the tents, the girls, led by Cecilia and Amelia, prepared the meal for the night. The materials in this world made it quite convenient to cook and gather firewood and food. As I was busy setting up a tent, I suddenly sensed a hand reaching towards me from behind, attempting to push me. I easily dodged and turned around to face my would-be assailant. It was Aiden. Didn''t he have anything better to do than bully me again? Aiden, with his hand still outstretched, seemed surprised by my quick reflexes but quickly recovered. His eyes narrowed, and a smirk formed on his lips. "Aiden, what do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice calm but firm. "Just having a little fun with the nerd of the class," he replied, the smirk not leaving his face. I sighed, deciding not to escalate the situation. "We''re in a dangerous place. Save your energy for the real threats," I advised. "Who the hell are you to tell me to save my energy? A weakling like you?" Aiden spat, glaring at me. I really wondered how he managed to obtain an SS Skill. "Hero Aiden," a voice suddenly called out. I was about to feel thankful until I realized it was Radakel who had called for Aiden. Aiden groaned before joining Radakel obediently. What kind of relationship did those two have? Once everything was settled, including the meal, we all lined up to be served by Amelia and Cecilia. They offered us a choice of food when it was our turn to pick. I hesitated between the fish and what seemed to be chicken but opted for the chicken in the end. It smelled really good. After thanking them, I took my plate and looked around. Everyone was seated with their own groups, except for me. Gwen was sitting alone because she despised this class. Aisha was the only other person eating alone, sitting a little way from the noise. She was leaning against a tall tree with a calm expression. She could have joined Gwen, but she likely noticed that Gwen wasn''t in any mood for company. Aisha was completely caught off guard by my actions. Taking advantage of her stunned state, I cut a piece of my chicken and brought it towards her mouth. "Open your mouth, Aisha," I requested, firmly grasping her other hand with mine. Aisha felt a tingling sensation and, somewhat hesitantly, opened her mouth as I asked. She accepted my fork and ate the small piece of chicken, chewing it slowly. "What do you think then? Is it good?" I asked, not giving her much time to think. "Heum, yes..." she replied, her cheeks turning a little red. "Oh, careful," I said suddenly, bringing my fingers towards her lips and wiping away the trickling chicken juice from the corners of her mouth. I traced her cherry-red lips with my index and middle fingers before gently slipping them between her lips. "Hnn~" Aisha moaned uncomfortably, closing her eyes as I traced the inner softness of her lips. For a moment, we were both still, the intimacy of the moment hanging in the air. I slowly withdrew my fingers, feeling a mix of emotions I couldn''t quite define. Aisha opened her eyes, a mixture of surprise and something else flickering in them. "Sorry if that was too much," I said softly, retracting my hand and giving her space. Aisha took a deep breath, her cheeks still flushed. "It''s... it''s okay," she murmured, avoiding eye contact. Oh God I wanted to fuck these lips of hers. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 64: Playing a little with Courtney After my fingers brushed against Aisha''s soft, inviting lips, the atmosphere grew tense for her, evident in her bewildered expression. She struggled to find her words, which played into my plans quite well. Today marked a significant stride forward. From now on, Aisha would be more aware of me than ever before. "Well, that was a delightful meal and a pleasant moment, wouldn''t you agree, Aisha?" I inquired as we both stood up. "Hmm, yes," she replied, still avoiding direct eye contact. Her cheeks retained a lingering flush. It was challenging not to be stirred by such a response from her. How many times over the past month had I yearned to possess her instantly? To passionately claim her virginity and assert my dominance. I craved the sight of her calm, nearly emotionless face transformed by lust as I took her forcefully. Aisha hurriedly collected her plate and swiftly departed, leaving me to smile to myself without pursuit as I tidied up my own plate. Later, in my tent, I settled in as comfortably as one could with only a few sheets spread over the grass beneath. The tent, spacious enough for me alone, provided adequate shelter, and I decided not to complain about its modest comforts. Tomorrow morning promised significant events. Yet, a vague sense of foreboding lingered. A subtle, unsettling premonition of danger gnawed at me. Abruptly, a shadow loomed behind the tent. I narrowed my eyes, bracing for whatever came next. When the figure opened the tent flap, surprise replaced my initial suspicion. "What are you doing here, Courtney?" I asked, noticing her in a simple pajama dress. "Hmm, I couldn''t sleep," she murmured. "That doesn''t explain why you''re here, this late," I said, smiling. Courtney avoided my eyes. "I didn''t have anyone to talk to... and I know you''re usually awake." She remembered that detail about me well enough. After all, I was the one who first mentioned it. "Fair enough, but if anyone finds you here in my tent, it could cause problems. Especially if Jason finds out¡ª" "Forget about Jason, please?" Courtney interrupted, her tone impatient. "I just want to talk about something else." "You have a beautiful body, Courtney," I murmured with a smirk, my hands eagerly grasping her small, firm breasts. "Ahnn??hmnn!" She moaned, but I quickly silenced her with another kiss, sealing her lips with mine to stifle any further sounds. My hands, now free to explore, began to enjoy the feel of her bare breasts. They were smaller than those of Khione, Amelia, and Helena, who had the biggest breasts, but Courtney''s were perfectly fitting in my palms. I could massage them, crush them gently under my hands, reveling in their firmness. The sensation was exquisite, each touch eliciting more soft moans from Courtney as she surrendered to the pleasure. Her breasts were elastic and perfectly filled my palms, making the sensation even more pleasurable. "Mnnnfff~~~" Courtney kept letting out muffled moans as I played with her breasts. Tears of pleasure streamed down her face, her body responding to my every touch. With a smile, I reached for her pants and began to lower them. The anticipation was almost unbearable. I pulled down her soaked panties, revealing her glistening cunt. "Hnnn!" she gasped. "It''s okay," I whispered reassuringly, kissing her again. My fingers found their way to her dripping pussy, sliding along her wetness. "Ahnnn??hmmnnn" she moaned as I played around her pussy for a moment before slipping a finger inside her. "Mmmmnnnfff??!!" she cried out, her body trembling. Suddenly, Courtney''s body went limp in my grasp. She had passed out from the overwhelming pleasure. I stood there, momentarily shocked, but then a smile crept across my face. Her body wasn''t used to such intense pleasure, especially from someone she had been holding back against until now. Kissing Courtney''s lips gently, I put her dress back on and used my stealth skills to carry her back inside her tent. What a shame, I thought. As I turned to leave toward my tent, a sudden noise caught my attention. I stopped and turned around, listening intently. Something was moving inside the bushes. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 65: Following a Demon I clearly heard movement within the dense bushes. My senses were heightened, and I kept my stealth skill activated, holding Courtney securely in my arm. Whoever or whatever it was hadn''t noticed us, and I intended to keep it that way. We moved cautiously, each step deliberate and silent, until I finally caught sight of the source of the disturbance. A man stood there, his skin slightly tanned and his appearance almost human, save for his pointed ears and the unnerving red glow of his eyes. There was no doubt about it¡ªhe was a Demon. What was he doing here? If I had to hazard a guess, he was likely a scout sent from the village of Uteska, tasked with checking on the newcomers. Though we were still hours away from the village, they had already managed to locate us. This alone was troubling, but what was more concerning was his audacity to venture so far from his home. Clearly, they were extremely wary. For Demons to have survived so long under human disguise, they must possess a keen sense of caution. Yet this scout''s boldness seemed reckless. I glanced toward a large, distinctive tent, standing out among the others. It was Radakel''s tent. Hadn''t he noticed the intruder yet? The Demon had impressive stealth skills, but I had expected Radakel to be more vigilant. Was he sleeping so soundly that he missed this threat? I found myself at a crossroads. What should I do? If I were a valiant Hero, loyal to the Empire, I would undoubtedly try to apprehend the Demon or call for help to ensure his capture. On the other hand, if I were indifferent to the Empire''s plight, I might simply let the scout go, turning a blind eye. But this option was fraught with peril¡ªthe Demons could prepare an ambush, endangering those I wanted to protect. In the end, there was only one viable choice. I decided to follow him. The Demon had been observing our tents for a good five minutes, likely counting our numbers and trying to discern who we were. Once he seemed satisfied with the information he''d gathered, he turned around to leave. I followed him silently through the forest, each step calculated to avoid detection. This might take a while if we continue at this pace... Suddenly, the Demon kicked off the ground, launching into a swift run. Would he kill the rest and imprison the children to appease Amelia? I could easily see him doing that, bending his actions just enough to keep her from outright rebellion. Radakel had mentioned that these Demons had killed the previous human villagers. Given that, Amelia might have no choice but to comply in the end, as it wasn''t her world or her country that had suffered the loss. First, I needed to verify if they had indeed killed the humans. If they were guilty, then... I wouldn''t interfere and would let Radakel ravage this village. They would be getting what they deserved. With my stealth skill still active, I advanced cautiously, climbing and leaping over the fence. The slight noise I made caught the attention of a few villagers and a guard, but they quickly resumed their activities, seeing nothing amiss. My objective was clear: the tallest house, which appeared to be the village chief''s residence. I navigated through the village, dodging playing children and busy adults. Fortunately, the door to the chief''s house was open, allowing me to slip inside. Jagon was there, ascending the stairs. I followed silently, keeping to the shadows. He stopped in front of a door and knocked. "Enter," came the voice of a woman. Jagon stepped inside. I followed closely behind and saw an extraordinarily beautiful woman seated on a chair. She had long brown hair cascading down her back and striking red eyes that contrasted with her thoughtful expression. Her pointed ears were visible, and her full, sensual lips were pressed together as she pondered something. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 66: Spying Catnys Jagon stepped inside. I followed closely behind and saw an extraordinarily beautiful woman seated on a chair. She had long brown hair cascading down her back and striking red eyes that contrasted with her thoughtful expression. Her pointed ears were visible, and her full, sensual lips were pressed together as she pondered something. "Excuse me, Lady Catnys," Jagon said respectfully, bowing slightly as he entered. "Report, Jagon?" Lady Catnys demanded, lifting her gaze from the scattered papers on the desk before her. Her eyes bore into Jagon, demanding full attention. "A bad news, unfortunately. I have spotted a camp about a few miles from here, consisting of around fifty to sixty people. All humans, and I recognized some knights bearing the emblem of the Light Empire," Jagon reported solemnly. "Did you recognize any of them specifically?" she asked, her serious gaze intensifying as she assessed the gravity of the situation. "Not directly, Lady Catnys, but I can say with certainty that the summoned Heroes of the Light Empire are present among them," Jagon replied, his voice steady. "Heroes," Catnys scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. Interesting. She isn''t scared of the Heroes at all. Well, seeing her level... Catnys Lvl 122. I can understand why she isn''t scared of them... "What about the others? I don''t think the Divine Knights would send their pawns alone. There should be at least one among them, shouldn''t there?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. She had hit the nail on the head. For the Demons, the Heroes were just mere pawns, and it seemed Lady Catnys was more wary of the Divine Knights, as expected. "I... indeed felt a formidable presence in one of the tents, yes," Jagon said, his tone trembling slightly. "I... I think the Divine Knight leading them is stronger than you, Lady Catnys. Pardon my rudeness." He bowed quickly, fear evident in his voice. "I''m not offended. I know these monsters well enough," Catnys said, raising her hand to calm him. "I want a clear and honest answer. Do you think we can handle the Divine Knight?" she asked, her eyes piercing through Jagon. "No, I... am sorry, I don''t think so," Jagon replied without hesitation, shaking his head emphatically. He had an exceptional sense of observation, and despite knowing that the monster Radakel was around, he took his time to analyze us. Quite bold, this Jagon. But he was right. Radakel was strong. Stronger than even this Catnys. "When will they be here?" she asked, clenching her fists tightly. Catnys glared at him, her eyes flashing with anger. "Do you take me for one of those despicable knights of the Empire? We send the children and elders first with a small group of our best warriors. Ensure they leave immediately, heading north. Meanwhile, we will depart a little later, drawing attention to ourselves," she commanded. "D-Does that mean...?" Jagon looked at Catnys, his voice trembling. Her plan was quite obvious. She intended to sacrifice themselves for the children, mothers, and elders. Jagon clenched his fists in frustration. "Just when we found a place where we could stay..." "It was just luck, Jagon. We found this village empty, with corpses strewn about as if some gods had given us this opportunity," Catnys said with a bitter laugh. "But I suppose we''ve been too happy for this world." I see now. This village was already dead when they entered it. An entire village wiped out? Quite suspicious... But there was something I didn''t understand at all. "How are they supposed to go, Lady Catnys? The children, mothers, and our elders¡ªwill they even be able to survive and find another shelter in this human empire?" Jagon asked, frustration evident in his voice. "The only thing we can do is shield them for today. The rest is up to them. There is no safe place for Demons in a human empire," Catnys replied calmly. Despite the dire situation, she was thinking rationally. Now, I understood how they had managed to live quietly until now. They had a smart woman leading them. But as expected, today''s situation was out of her control. "Don''t waste time, Jagon. Explain the situation to everyone. The most important thing is to keep the future of our race, the children, safe," she added seriously. "Yes..." Jagon nodded painfully and was about to leave. It was time to stop spying around. I stepped closer behind Catnys. "Ha!" she reacted as soon as she sensed my presence, even though I was using a stealth skill. Impressive, but too late. "Don''t move." Chapter 67: Nathans offer to Catnys "Don''t move," I whispered, my voice low and menacing, before circling my left arm around her slender neck. I quickly canceled my stealth skill. It consumed a significant amount of mana, but since becoming stronger, my mana pool had also increased, allowing me to use it longer. It was truly one of my strongest skills. Catnys froze as my arm pressed firmly against her neck. Though she was slightly stronger than me level-wise and could cast spells to repel me, she understood that a single wrong move could result in me snapping her neck. She couldn''t see my level, but she was astute enough to recognize I wasn''t a weakling. "YOU!!! You''re a Human?!" Jagon glared angrily, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at me. He couldn''t see my face because of the black mask I was wearing covering my entire face except my eyes but he could tell that I was a Human. "Lower your sword, or I will snap your chief''s beautiful neck," I said with a smile. "D...Don''t tell me you''re the one who followed me?! Did that Divine Knight send you?!" Jagon was half-right; I had followed him, but I wasn''t sent by Radakel. It was amusing to think that while I was following Jagon, someone else had also been tailing us without my notice. I was too focused on Jagon to pay attention behind me. "I won''t repeat myself. Lower your sword," I repeated, this time with a chilling coldness in my voice. "Do it, Jagon..." Catnys said, her voice strained. "Hell no, you won''t do anything," I pressed further on her throat. "Ugnnn!" Catnys let out a pained groan. "You bastard human!" Jagon roared furiously. My gaze remained fixed on his sword. I said I wouldn''t repeat myself. Jagon hesitated, seeing Catnys'' expression telling him to attack me regardless of the consequences. But he would never endanger his chief''s life. With a deep breath, Jagon''s eyes flickered with uncertainty. Finally, he lowered his sword, the blade trembling slightly in his grip. "Fine, you win. But let her go," he demanded, his voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "I will, once we reach an understanding," I replied, easing my grip on Catnys'' neck just enough for her to breathe easier but still maintaining control. "We need to talk, and you need to listen. Otherwise, this will end badly for all of you." Jagon''s face contorted with skepticism, but he remained silent, listening. "Why should we trust you?" Catnys asked, her voice regaining some of its authority. "You don''t have to trust me completely. Just understand that our goals align for now. If we work together, we have a chance of surviving this and pissing off Radakel. Alone, you''ll be slaughtered though. Think about it, Catnys," I urged. The room fell silent as Catnys and Jagon exchanged a tense glance. "In this matter, I have nothing to lose. I win regardless of the outcome. If you escape this place, Radakel will be furious, and I want to see what he is truly like. Of course, killing him is impossible for now. But if you choose to ignore my proposal, then you can all get slaughtered here for all I care. Not that I''m discriminating against you guys. Human or Demon, they are all the same to me. I care only for what''s important to me," I said firmly. Catnys was taken aback by my speech. She thought for a moment before speaking. "What''s your proposal?" "Pretty simple. I want to ruin Radakel''s plan." I had a bad feeling, so I wanted to ruin Radakel''s plan just in case I was involved in it. Of course, I wouldn''t admit that I also wanted to avoid the death of innocent children, but I wasn''t a monster who would let children get slaughtered when I could prevent it. My mother didn''t raise me like that. My father, perhaps. "They will come in a few hours, and we have to get the children out of the village. If we fight Radakel, we are dying at the end," Jagon said, not understanding my words. He was right. Even if I fought alongside Catnys, Jagon, and the other Demons, we couldn''t beat Radakel. But beating him wasn''t part of the plan to begin with. What I want is to wipe that smile off his face that he''s had since the moment I met him. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 68: Taming Catnys What I want is to wipe that smile off his face that he''s had since the moment I met him. Catnys considered my words carefully. "You''re saying we need to evacuate the children and the vulnerable ones first, while you... what? Distract Radakel?" "WE will distract Radakel," I said, leaning her further onto my chest from behind. "Ugnnn..." Catnys wriggled uncomfortably, seated on my lap. "I have to say it, Catnys," I muttered. "W...What?" She asked coldly. I smirked and whispered in her ear, "You have a great ass." "Wha..." Catnys was speechless, her face flushing crimson. She tried to get up, but I held her down, feeling her ass pressed against my lap. "You! Leave Lady Catnys alone!" Jagon yelled angrily. "Nope. Instead, I want you to gather all the men and tell them to prepare themselves," I ordered him. "What?! Who are you to order me, human?!" Jagon clearly didn''t like me. I sighed and slightly raised my mask to free my mouth. Then I brought my lips toward Catnys'' ear and bit the tip of her sharp ear gently. "Mnnn~!" Catnys, completely caught off guard, let out a cute moan, a sound so different from her usual serious tone. I could see Jagon dumbfounded, his face turning red. Catnys'' face was also red, ashamed of the voice she had just let out. "You are a cute demon, aren''t you?" I said with a smile. Catnys shivered at my words and I could see her gritting her teeth. "L...Leave me. We are allies today... then release me..." she said, recovering her serious tone. "First tell him to gather all your best men, prepared," I said. "What about the civilians?" Catnys asked about the children, mothers, and elders. "Bring all of them into a secluded house together," I said. "We need to make sure they''re safe while we handle Radakel. Once they''re gathered, we''ll draw his attention away and buy time for their escape." "No. They have to escape right now!" Catnys didn''t agree. "No, Radakel already sent other of his knights to surround the village from a safe distance. They will be caught regardless of where they escape and then killed." I lied. I had no idea if Radakel did that but if he wasn''t stupid and really wanted to get rid of the entire race of demons, he would have done that already. Catnys'' expression darkened. "You humans truly understand nothing..." "Answer me," I insisted, biting her ear again. "Hmnnn~~~!" She moaned once more, her legs wriggling in response. I smirked and hugged her slender waist, pulling her closer. "You! Eh? W-what... what is that?" Catnys suddenly panicked, feeling something unusual pressing against her rear. Something hard. "Nothing to be scared of. Just my dick," I said. "Whaaa!" She was speechless, her eyes widening in shock as she tried to stand up, but this time she struggled with more force. "Stay still, Catnys," I commanded, frowning as I froze her legs instantly. Catnys'' eyes opened even wider in shock. "Do you know how much danger I put myself in to save you and your people?" I asked, staring at her intently. "W-We didn''t ask for your help," she replied, her voice trembling. "If I don''t help you, Radakel will erase every single one of you, right down to the last baby," I said coldly. "Is that what you want? Should I leave?" Catnys bit her lip hard, abandoning any resistance. "What do you want?" I smiled. "I want you." Catnys turned around, dumbfounded. "Don''t look at me like that. I''m serious." I laughed softly. "I want this sexy body to be mine," I said, my fingers playing on her waist, tracing the curves of her body. "Haa..." Catnys let out an uncomfortable sigh. "What do you say?" I asked, pressing her for an answer. Catnys blushed deeply, a mix of anger, annoyance, and embarrassment evident on her face. "If you save my people, I will... agree." "Agree to what, Catnys?" I inquired with genuine curiosity. "I want to hear you say it. Say that you will give me your sexy body." Catnys''s face turned even redder as she glared at me, trying to gauge if I was serious. "I... I will give you... my... my sexy body..." she finally stammered out, her voice barely audible in her embarrassment. Chapter 69: Nathan disappeared "W-what?! What do you mean he''s not here?!" Back in the encampment, everyone had woken up early by Radakel''s order. His first announcement shocked everyone. "Please calm down, Hero Amelia," Radakel said, trying to soothe a panicked Amelia. "I-I won''t calm down until I know where Nathan is!" Amelia''s voice rang out, loud enough for everyone to understand what had happened, including all her students. Nathan had disappeared. "We don''t know yet, but I think I have an idea of where he might be," Radakel said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "W-Where then?!" Amelia demanded, her expression pale and fearful. All her students and the knights understood why Amelia was panicked. She cared deeply for her students, and they noticed her anxiety. However, none of them realized how much more scared she was for Nathan than anyone else. She was struggling to control her emotions, but it was hard. Nathan. He had been one of her precious students until a month ago, but for nearly two months since they were summoned, Amelia had felt small changes in her feelings as she spent more time with Nathan. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn''t help herself. She had these strange feelings and eventually fell for her student. She felt ashamed and tried her best to avoid Nathan, but her feelings only grew stronger. Then, two weeks ago, they had crossed a line. Since then, Nathan''s words had reassured her, telling her not to worry about the trivial student-teacher relationship since they were in another world. Amelia came to accept and embrace her relationship with Nathan. Everything had been going well; she was in love with him. But now he had disappeared. One thing she was sure of now: she couldn''t live without Nathan. "Probably in Uteska. Some demons seemed to have visited our camp to gather information, and they kidnapped Hero Nathan," Radakel said, shocking everyone. Amelia''s face paled even further. Amelia quickly understood what Radakel meant. If the demons had wanted to kill Nathan, they would have left his body behind. But no body was found, fortunately. "Everyone!" Fortunately for her, someone else took the lead and spoke up. It was, of course, Jason. "Our classmate Nathan has been kidnapped by the demons! We can''t abandon him!!" he yelled. "YEEEEAAAAAH!!!!" Most of his classmates cheered in response, not necessarily because they wanted to save Nathan, but because they were swept up in Jason''s charisma. "Let''s save our classmate! Lend me your strength, everyone!" Jason shouted once more, raising his sword high. "No mercy for the evil demons who try to hurt our comrades!!" "YEAAAAAAH!!" "LET''S KILL THOSE BASTARDS!!!" "With Jason, Aiden, and Sienna, it''s already a done deal!!!" "Let''s support them then!!!" "Let''s show them what heroes are!!!" Jason''s words ignited a fervor among his classmates, their desire to tear apart the demons burning brightly. The image of the demons was already negative in the heroes'' eyes, thanks to the careful brainwashing speeches given by the knights and Oscar previously. Now, with Radakel''s manipulation, Nathan''s disappearance, and Jason''s rousing speech, they all thought of only one thing. Tear apart the demons. Usually, at this moment, Amelia would have intervened to caution against unnecessary killing, but she wasn''t in her right mind at all. Her worry for Nathan clouded her judgment. She didn''t even notice Radakel''s smirk as he observed Jason rousing the heroes to kill the demons. Radakel''s plan was unfolding perfectly. Chapter 70: Courtneys Guilt The sound of horses'' hooves hitting the ground echoed through the air. Carriages moved one after another, carrying the students who wore tense expressions on their faces. Jason''s speech had given them confidence and excitement, but anxiety still lingered. They were about to confront demons, the very beings they had been summoned to kill, including the Demon King. This was their first significant step toward their objective of returning to Earth. In one of the carriages, a pair of sisters sat, clearly uneasy. "D-Do you think he''s still alive, Sienna?" Siara asked, unable to hide the unease in her voice. She had complex feelings for her stepbrother, but one thing was certain: she didn''t want him to die and was worried about him. Sienna, who was checking her sword, nodded firmly. "He is alive. We will save him, don''t worry." Her usual calm face was a mask, but Siara could tell her sister was truly worried. Sienna''s expression was colder than usual, and she was ready to fight. Sienna was among the few students who stayed silent about killing demons, agreeing with Amelia that unnecessary bloodshed should be avoided. But when it came to her family, the matter was different. She wouldn''t hesitate to kill if Siara or Nathan were in danger. Siara clenched her fists. She was surprised at how much she cared for Nathan now that he could be in danger. She had always thought he was safe in the castle, but today had proved otherwise. With a determined gaze, she renewed her resolve. Just like Sienna, if she had to kill to get Nathan back, then she would kill. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã After a few hours of slow progress, Radakel signaled for the carriages to stop. "We have arrived," he said, descending from the carriage with a composed demeanor. "Lord Radakel?" Amelia followed suit, her expression a mixture of determination and anxiety. "The village is a hundred meters away. We need to proceed carefully to recover Hero Nathan," he said, choosing his words carefully to ensure Amelia''s compliance. It was a lie. His true intention was to ensure every single demon in the village was exterminated, and for that... "T...Thank..." Courtney began to thank the person, only to be surprised that it was Aisha. Aisha was as beautiful as ever, but Courtney noticed the dark expression behind her usually calm face. A scene from the previous night flashed in her mind: Nathan sitting close to Aisha, Nathan touching Aisha''s lips, and both of them looking at each other with unmistakable affection. The whole scene screamed romance. Courtney quickly averted her gaze from Aisha after remembering that moment. Her memory of the previous night, coupled with Aisha''s dark expression now, made it clear that Nathan was someone important to Aisha. An awkward silence ensued as Aisha helped her to straighten her armor. Until... "You like Nathan." "!" Courtney shivered when she heard Aisha''s words. She was taken aback, her heart pounding. Aisha''s expression softened slightly, her voice calm but firm. "I can see it in your eyes. You care about him deeply." Courtney looked down, unable to meet Aisha''s gaze. "I... I didn''t mean for any of this to happen." Aisha sighed softly, adjusting a strap on Courtney''s armor. "None of us did. But we need to stay strong for him. Nathan needs us now more than ever." "D...Do you like him too?" Courtney stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper, before Aisha could leave. Aisha paused for a moment, her back to Courtney, but she didn''t answer. Without a word, she continued walking, leaving Courtney standing there, her question hanging in the air. Courtney lowered her gaze, feeling a mixture of frustration and determination. She clenched her fists, reminding herself that Nathan needed them. She couldn''t afford to cry and be useless now. Taking a deep breath, she felt her strength returning. She quickly began checking on her staff, ensuring everything was in order. Meanwhile, her classmates were also preparing for the impending battle. Jason stood out among them, clad in splendid gold armor adorned with intricate designs. A golden crown sat atop his head, and a magnificent gold sword hung at his waist. His entire ensemble had been crafted specifically for him by the best smiths in the land, commissioned by the Emperor himself. The armor and sword were designed to enhance his light magic, making him an even more formidable force. The girls around Jason couldn''t help but blush at the sight of him. His already handsome appearance was further enhanced by the gleaming armor, making him look like a true hero from legends. With a dazzling smile, Jason unsheathed his sword, its blade catching the light brilliantly. "Let''s recover our classmate!" Chapter 71: Battle of the Uteska Village (1) "We have arrived," Radakel announced with a confident smile, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of anticipation and amusement. The entrance to the village lay just ten meters ahead, devoid of any guards. Despite the lack of visible sentinels, Radakel was certain that the villagers were aware of their presence. He could sense every soul within the village, their auras fluctuating with a mix of fear and determination as they braced themselves for the impending confrontation. Radakel chuckled, shaking his head at their futile efforts. "What a foolish behavior," he mused aloud. "They should just give up their sinful lives and leave this world with a shred of dignity." But then, his expression changed. His brow furrowed slightly as he detected a familiar energy signature. "This mana..." he murmured, his senses honing in on the distinctive aura. There was no doubt about it; he had trained extensively to recognize the Heroes'' mana, and this one unmistakably belonged to Nathan Parker. "So he was indeed kidnapped and is still alive," Radakel muttered to himself, a sinister glint in his eyes. At that moment, a knight appeared beside him. This knight exuded a formidable presence, though he was not a High Ranked Divine Knight. He was one of Radakel''s personal knights, loyal and fierce. "Elias," Radakel addressed him, his tone authoritative. "I will wait outside. You will lead the attack and protect the Heroes if they are in difficulty." Elias bowed his head, his golden eyes gleaming through the narrow slit of his helmet. "I will not disappoint you, Lord Radakel." Radakel''s smile faded as he leaned in closer to Elias, lowering his voice. "Also, Elias, find Nathan Parker. Kill him. Make sure his death is as gruesome as possible and pin the blame on the demons." Elias nodded, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet. Radakel then turned to Jason and Amelia, his smile returning. "Elias is one of my most trusted knights. Don''t worry, he will protect all the Heroes'' lives along with my other knights. Hero Nathan is undoubtedly held prisoner inside the village by those vile demons. Please, save Hero Nathan." Radakel made sure to sound sincere, even though he didn''t need to say anything; this was now their new objective. His words were just another attempt to stoke their hatred toward the demons. However, not everyone shared the same fervor for rescuing Nathan or supporting the heroes. "Ahahah!" Laughter echoed from the other side. Demons, clad in much less shiny armor, mocked the struggling heroes. "Take that, humans!" one demon jeered. "Those bastards! I''ll kill you!" Aiden yelled angrily, repeatedly swinging his sword at the barrier, but his efforts were futile. Behind them, Radakel observed the scene with a serious gaze. He had already sensed the presence of a powerful mage among the demons, likely the strongest in the village and their leader. This barrier was no ordinary spell; it was a formidable defense. Judging from the strength of the barrier, Radakel doubted any single hero could beat that person alone. Maybe the top three¡ªJason, Sienna, and Aiden¡ªcould manage something together, but not individually. "Elias," Radakel called out. Elias knew exactly what to do. He drew his sword, a shining golden blade, and raised it high. Gathering a great amount of mana, he shocked everyone with the sheer power he displayed. All the heroes quickly realized how incredibly strong Elias was now. "Ray of Light!" Elias muttered. From his sword shot a powerful beam of light, striking the upper part of the barrier. BADOOOOOOM! A powerful shockwave rippled through the entire barrier, and everyone could feel its intensity. The barrier began to waver under the relentless assault. Elias continued to channel the Ray of Light, weakening the barrier further. It was now only a matter of seconds before the magical shield would be destroyed, and the path into the village would be open. ************* DISCORD LINK FOR ILLUSTRATIONS OF WAIFUS: .gg/XK9V444W (check synopsis to access) Chapter 72: Battle of the Uteska Village (2) A few minutes before Elias strikes the barrier... In the house of the village chief, two people remained in a dimly lit room. Catnys was still seated on my lap, wriggling in embarrassment and anger. It''s been a lot of time since she was stuck with me after all. "They will come! Let me go! I have to help my people!" Catnys yelled, her voice filled with urgency. My arms held her firmly in place, one hand resting on her waist and the other on her shoulder. "You smell very good, Catnys. Did you take a bath, or is that just your natural perfume?" I asked curiously, trying to ease the tension. "E...Enough!" This time, Catnys put all her strength into breaking free, but as a mage, she wasn''t physically strong. I easily kept her in my grip. "I can save your people¡ªat least the children, the women, and the elders," I said. Catnys stopped struggling and looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and suspicion. "How?" I smiled, appreciating her beauty and the depth of her care for her people. Yes, I would definitely make her mine. "I''ll explain it when the time comes, but there is something you need to understand, Catnys," I said, my tone serious. "What is it?" she asked. "There will be death on your side, a lot of it. Radakel is here, his knights, and the Heroes too. They are here to wipe your village off the map, and Radakel won''t stop until every one of you is dead," I said. "I know..." Catnys nodded, biting her lip in determination. "All your warriors will become mere meat shields to protect the children and the weak. They will need to draw all the attention, or else those hiding will be killed," I said. "You don''t need to say it. We were prepared to die from the very beginning," Catnys replied sternly. Looking at Catnys'' gloomy face, I felt a surge of curiosity. These demons intrigued me far more than the humans of the Empire ever had. I found myself appreciating them more than the foolish humans who blindly cheered for the Heroes. If I had the choice between saving the Demons or these Humans knights who were protecting us, I would definitely choose the Demons in my current position. Just to see what kind of smile of relief this beautiful demon would make. "Your people have spirit," I said softly. "More spirit than the humans who follow Radakel." Catnys'' eyes flickered with a mixture of emotions, but she remained silent. I tightened my grip slightly, leaning closer. "I will do what I can to help, but you must trust me." She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I will trust you. But if you betray us..." "T..they are here! They are attacking my barrier!" She stood up as I freed my arms. I frowned a little. Radakel arrived sooner than expected. "It won''t be long before they reach the village. I want you to do what I asked you to do on me and one last thing." Catnys looked at me as I smiled. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã "Everyone, get back! Mages, stay behind us at a safe distance and cover us!" Jagon commanded with a strong voice. He was clad in black armor, meticulously maintained, and held a sharp sword that gleamed in his hand. "All the others will stay with me! We will take on the Empire''s new dogs ourselves and show them who the real heroes are!" Jagon added with a smirk, eyeing the heroes waiting for the barrier to disappear. One hero, in particular, with a toothed sword, glared murderously at him. "YEAAAAAH!!!" The other demons, also wearing light armor and holding weapons, cheered at Jagon''s words. "Jagon." Suddenly, one of them approached. He was the most robust-looking demon among them. Jagon smiled, recognizing his old friend, who was all geared up for the fight. "Surag," he said, shaking his hand firmly. Surag smiled back, gripping Jagon''s arm. "Everything is set. We did as you asked and put all the children, elders, and women in the barn. But is that really okay? If we fall, it''s over for them." The plan had always been to hold back the enemies to let the others escape, so Surag was confused by the sudden change. Jagon shook his head. "Do you believe in Lady Catnys or not?" "Of course I believe her! We all do. So why are we taking such risks with our families?" Surag replied, his concern evident. "Then don''t worry; everything will be fine," Jagon said confidently. He chose not to mention Nathan''s presence or what had transpired. Revealing that a human, who had been with Radakel, was now supposedly helping them would only cause unnecessary panic. Jagon himself didn''t fully trust Nathan, but he trusted Catnys, who had a skill to detect lies. If she believed in Nathan, it meant his claims about saving them were true and that he wasn''t siding with Radakel. "Stay strong, Surag. We fight not just for survival, but for our future," Jagon said, placing a reassuring hand on his friend''s shoulder. Surag nodded. "For our future." "Jagon! T...The barrier!!" One of the demons called out Jagon in panic. Jagon looked up and saw the light from Elias'' sword starting erasing Catnys'' barrier finally. Chapter 73: Battle of the Uteska Village (3) BOOOM! As soon as the barrier vanished under Elias'' powerful ray attack, the heroes rushed inside with a fierce determination. Jason was the first to charge, pointing his sword at the demons with righteous fury. "Release Nathan right away, demons!" he shouted, swinging his sword with all his might. "Earth mages!" Jagon barked, signaling his mages behind him. A few demons stepped forward, each raising a staff. The ground trembled as they channeled their magic. CREEAK!!! Suddenly, several thick, robust walls of earth erupted from the ground, forming a solid barrier in front of the demons. The heroes, including Jason, unleashed a barrage of attacks, but their efforts were in vain. The earthen walls absorbed the blows, causing a massive explosion that sent stones and dust flying everywhere. "Oh!!" "I can''t see anything!!" "W...Where are you guys?!" The heroes, caught too close to the walls, found themselves either lightly injured by flying debris or blinded by the thick dust that now filled the air. Their uncoordinated assault had backfired spectacularly. In stark contrast, the demons moved with practiced precision, having fought together for their lives countless times. Jagon didn''t need to give further instructions. The earth mages combined their mana, raising even more formidable walls around the heroes, encircling them within a dust-filled trap. "Step back with me!" Jagon ordered his men. They nodded in unison, retreating several meters to regroup with the mages. "Fire mages!!" Jagon signaled, this time calling on those with a strong affinity for fire. "YES!!!" they responded, raising their staffs. Fireballs began to form above them, glowing ominously. BOOOM! But before the fire mages could launch their attack, the thick walls imprisoning the heroes burst apart. "Don''t underestimate us, BASTARDS!!!" Aiden''s voice roared, dripping with hatred. His large, toothed sword glowed red, having broken through the earthen walls after several relentless strikes. Though the dust still hindered their vision, a sudden breeze blew through the battlefield, clearing the air. The breeze was calm and soothing, the mana behind it feeling regal and refined. It was a beautiful mana. "Disperse," a soft voice rang out. WHOOOOSH! In an instant, all the dust was blown away by the beautiful wind. All the demons'' gazes fell on a single girl. She was one of the most beautiful they had ever seen, rivaling even their leader, Catnys. Her blond hair floated in the wind, and her green eyes looked at them with annoyance. CLANG! A metallic sound resounded, followed by a shockwave. Sienna grunted, her whole body turning numb from the impact. The strength behind Jagon''s strike was too powerful. Taking advantage, Jagon kicked Sienna, but she quickly protected her stomach by tilting her sword. Unable to resist the impact, she was flung away, colliding through the wall of a house. CRASH! The force of the collision left a cloud of dust and debris. Sienna, dazed but determined, pulled herself from the wreckage. "Sienna!!! You!!" Jason''s eyes blazed with fury, his expression contorting with rage as he prepared to unleash his power. "Light-" "DEMON BASTARD!!!" Unfortunately for Jason, his incantation was cut short once again. Jagon raised his eyes to see Aiden charging toward him, wielding a massive sword raised high, poised to deliver a crushing blow. The sword glowed ominously red, signaling a dangerous and powerful attack that Jagon knew he couldn''t afford to let touch him. "Four Star Wind Magic. Whirlwind," Jagon intoned, stretching out his hand. BOOOOM! A deafening explosion of wind erupted, creating a powerful gust that swept Aiden off his feet and hurled him backward, along with his sword. "Sword of Light!" Jagon''s attention snapped toward the new voice. Jason, eyes blazing with determination, swung his sword, now glowing brilliantly with light, directly at Jagon. Sensing the lethal threat from Jason''s sword, Jagon leaped back swiftly. As he landed, his gaze shifted to his left where he saw a giant bird made entirely of water hurtling toward him with incredible speed. "!" His eyes then caught sight of a stunning girl with auburn hair and piercing blue eyes¡ªSiara, the one commanding the water bird. In midair, Jagon quickly swung his own sword and chanted, "Five Star Fire Magic, Fire Wall!" SPLASH! The fiery wall collided with the water bird, causing an intense clash that resulted in a burst of steam and vapor, enveloping the entire area in a thick, obscuring mist. Leaping out of the smoky shroud, Jagon landed and looked around, his brow furrowed in confusion as he scanned the area behind the Heroes. "Where is he?" He muttered, realizing he couldn''t see Elias, the one responsible for destroying the barrier. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 74: Battle of the Uteska Village (4) While Jagon was locked in a fierce battle against Sienna, Aiden, Jason¡ªthe three most powerful Heroes with Siara¡ªanother intense skirmish raged on a little farther away. "Don''t be scared! They''re just kids, not real Heroes! We are the Heroes today, understood?!" Surag bellowed with his raspy voice, trying to rally his men. A loud cheer erupted from his soldiers as they clashed with the Heroes and the knights sworn to protect them. Despite the chaos, a nervous but determined smile played on Surag''s lips. Fortunately, neither the Divine Knight nor Elias, the other formidable warrior, were participating in the battle for some unknown reason. Surag couldn''t decide if this was a blessing or a curse. Their involvement could tip the scales against them, leading to certain defeat. However, Surag held on to his faith. He believed in Jagon''s plan, and more importantly, he trusted Catnys. His mission was clear: buy as much time as possible to ensure the safety of their families. SWOOOSH! Just as everything seemed to be going smoothly, a powerful gust of wind swept through, knocking a dozen of his men off their feet and sending them sprawling to the ground with pained groans. Surag''s eyes narrowed as he spotted a stunning blonde warrior. ''Her again? She''s different from the other Heroes...'' he muttered, sensing something unusual about Gwen. But he had no time to ponder. Through the breach Gwen created, a striking black-haired beauty charged toward him, her long sword gleaming menacingly. Aisha''s stern gaze was locked onto Surag as she infused mana into her weapon, activating her S-rank skill, Lightning Princess. Her sword crackled with electrical energy. ''She is dangerous!'' Surag thought, steeling himself for the confrontation. He raised his arm defensively. -BAM! Aisha''s sword came crashing down, but Surag managed to parry the blow with his armored arm. The armor, imbued with a strange and formidable strength, held firm against the attack. Surag gritted his teeth, feeling the force of Aisha''s blow reverberate through his arm. Aisha frowned as her attack was deflected. Surag concealed a grimace of pain in his arm and swung his right fist at her. However, his fist suddenly froze mid-air, halted by a barrier of wind holding his hand in place. It was Gwen, her hand outstretched, controlling the wind. "Where is he?" Aisha''s voice broke through the tension, her eyes narrowing at Surag. Surag frowned, confusion evident on his face. Aisha bit her lip, her frustration growing. "Where is Nathan?!" Lightning crackled more fiercely around Aisha, striking Surag''s body and sending a painful jolt through him. "Guhh!" Surag grunted, jumping back and swinging his arm. "Four Star Earth Magic: Earth Spikes!" He punched the ground, causing several sharp spikes of earth to jut out, aiming to impale Aisha. Aisha, however, used her lightning to enhance her speed, weaving through the gaps between the spikes. She wasn''t as fast as Sienna, but with her lightning, she could move swiftly. "Where is he?" Gwen demanded, her irritation barely concealed. She wanted to end the battle quickly. Surag remained silent, his mind racing. He had no idea who they were asking about. From his perspective, they were the ones who had attacked without provocation, shattering their peaceful lives. "W...what do we do?!" Another girl, standing with Gwen, muttered with a pale face. It was Courtney, clearly worried about Nathan. Meanwhile, Courtney, seizing the moment of distraction caused by Iphlea''s arrival, dashed into the village. Surag and Silgor''s attention was diverted, giving her a slim window to act. The village was eerily empty, the sounds of battle echoing behind her. "Nathan!!" she yelled, her voice tinged with desperation. Searching house by house seemed like an impossible task, knowing it would take too long. What if one of the demons chose to kill Nathan before she could find him? Panic gripped her as she continued shouting his name in front of each house, fearing he might not be in any condition to respond¡ªor worse, that he might already be dead. She forced herself to push that thought aside. "Na...Nathan!!" she cried out again, her voice breaking. Bent over, hands on her knees, Courtney struggled to catch her breath, her eyes brimming with tears. "It can''t be...please, Nathan..." Thud! "!" Courtney whipped her head to the right, the sound coming from the house beside her. Raising her staff defensively, she cautiously entered the house. "Nathan?" Thud! Another loud thud came from below. Courtney pressed her ear to the floor and her eyes widened in realization. "Please let it be him!" she whispered, running around the house until she found a trapdoor. Opening it, she saw a set of stairs descending into darkness. Thud! Taking a deep breath, Courtney stepped down the stairs nervously. When she reached the bottom, her heart pounded in her chest. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, her face froze in shock. But then, a smile of happiness and relief spread across her face. "Nathan!!" Courtney exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and urgency. Nathan was there, bound with his hands tied and mouth gagged. His eyes widened at the sight of her, and he shook his head vigorously, trying to warn her of something. "Mmmm!" he tried to shout through the gag, but it was too late. Courtney turned around, but before she could react, she saw a pair of red eyes. Darkness swiftly claimed her as she lost consciousness. The red-eyed woman, Catnys, glanced at Nathan. "Is that finally over? Can we fight now?" Nathan smiled, removing the gag from his mouth and freeing his hands. "Everything is ready. Go ahead." Catnys nodded and left without another word. Nathan turned his attention to the unconscious Courtney, brushing her hair away from her face gently. "Sorry for that," he murmured. He tied her securely against a pillar and activated the magic Catnys had placed on him. His ears became pointed, his eyes turned red, and his presence transformed. With the black mask now covering his face, even Radakel wouldn''t recognize him. Donning the black robe that Catnys had given him, he exited the house, a sense of purpose driving his steps. "Time to see how strong I''ve become." Chapter 75: Battle of the Uteska Village (5) "It should be fine," I reassured myself with a nod, trying to push away any lingering doubts. In my true form, my demon heritage seemed evident with my pointed ears except my stark white hair, reminiscent of Khione''s. I tied my hair back tightly and concealed it beneath a hood. To complete my disguise, I donned a black mask that covered my face, leaving only my icy blue eyes visible. Under my clothes, I wore black armor similar to what demons typically wore, ensuring I blended seamlessly among them. My mission was straightforward yet daunting: to fight my classmates and keep Radakel at bay. It would be incredibly challenging, but I wasn''t alone. Catnys was there and she could help a lot since she was a great mage. As I stepped out of the house where I had hidden Courtney and where I was supposed to be imprisoned, I prepared to leave. But then... I glanced to my right and noticed someone approaching. The sound of armor clattering echoed in the air as the figure drew nearer. Clad in white armor that covered his entire body, his eyes gleamed gold through his helmet. It was Elias. Level 110. I couldn''t help but wonder how many formidable warriors like him Radakel had hidden. It was likely he had many and had only brought one along. Radakel had underestimated us. He thought a single warrior would be enough to annihilate Uteska. But he was wrong. First, Catnys was a Level 122 mage. And second, I was Level 105. I could handle Elias. "Filthy demon. Answer my question if you don''t want to die," Elias spat out with disgust, his voice dripping with contempt. I could clearly see the effects of Radakel''s brainwashing on him. But even if I answered his question, I was certain he would kill me regardless. "Where is Hero Nathan?" he asked coldly, his voice devoid of any warmth or empathy. Ah, now I understood. Radakel had sent his lackey to find me¡ªor more accurately, to kill me¡ªbefore any of my classmates could. Elias''s question was unnecessary, as he should have sensed my presence in the area earlier. The only reason he asked again was because my presence had suddenly vanished when I revealed my true form. "So, you''re Radakel''s lapdog? Where is he hiding, outside like a coward?" I sneered, letting my disdain drip from every word. My taunt had the desired effect. Elias''s face twisted in a grotesque mask of anger and hatred before he vanished from sight. Elias looked shocked as his arm began to freeze, forcing him to jump back. "Impale him," I commanded, waving my sword upward. An icy spike jutted out of the ground, aiming for him. "Fifth Rank Light Magic: Barrier of Light!" he shouted, a barrier of light shielding him from the ice spike. But when he raised his head, I was already upon him. Pulling back my arm, now entirely covered in ice, I punched him in the cheek. BADOOOOM! CREAK! I could feel his jaw breaking as my fist embedded in his cheek. The force was too much for his body to resist, and he crashed violently into the ground. "BUAGGH!!" Elias coughed violently, blood spurting from his mouth. Landing on the ground, I sighed deeply. Using Khione''s mana was taking a toll on me. My level wasn''t appropriate for the immense power I had appropriated from Khione. While it had somewhat evolved to fit my body, it was still incredibly taxing to wield. "You bastard!" Elias struggled to stand, still coughing blood. "Stay on the ground and die if you don''t want to feel more pain, Elias," I said with a smile, taunting him. "L... Lord Radakel... apologies, I will use it," Elias muttered suddenly. Removing his armor, he placed his hand on his bare chest and laughed at me. What is he doing? "RELEASE LIGHT! I GIVE YOU MY BODY! OH GODS OF LIGHT!" he yelled. His body burst into a brilliant light that erupted and reached the sky. I narrowed my gaze, watching intently. He was growing stronger by the second. A pillar of light engulfed his entire body for a moment. When the light receded, Elias stood there, transformed. He no longer seemed pained. His face radiated gold, and strange golden marks glowed on his skin. This was the secret of the Divine Knights. "I will answer your call," he muttered lowly, his voice resonating with a newfound power. They had never been faithful to the gods of Olympus, but to other ancient gods. Born in the Light and bathed in Darkness. The Gods of Light. When he turned his eyes toward me, a shiver ran down my spine. Goosebumps rose on my skin as I felt the intensity of his gaze. I focused all my senses and raised my sword. Was I really about to face a god now? Chapter 76: Zeus worry High in Olympus, a grand dinner was being held as it did every day in the palace. The main gods had gathered to enjoy the feast, where the finest dishes were prepared for their pleasure. "Why are you so thoughtful, dear?" Hera suddenly spoke up, noticing her husband''s distant demeanor. Seated on her throne, she leaned closer, pressing her ample bosom against Zeus''s arm. "Dear?" Hera repeated, her voice softer and more intimate. Zeus, who was usually the life of the feast, seemed lost in thought. "Hmm. It''s about the Achaean Continent..." he muttered, his brow furrowed. "What about them?" Hera inquired, curiosity piqued. "You know, Hera, a war is brewing and could erupt at any moment," Zeus said with a sigh. "These foolish humans will never learn, will they?" Hera exhaled, shaking her head in exasperation. As expected, she had little love for these weak creatures. However, her husband took them seriously, so she played her part in the divine drama. "All of this over a single woman," Hera smiled, the irony not lost on her. "Not just any ordinary woman, Mother Hera," a voice interrupted. Hera''s eyes turned cold as she glanced at the newcomer. It was Dionysus, frivolously disguised, a wreath of ivy adorning his dark hair. He wore a simple white robe and had an effeminate manner as he addressed his stepmother. Dionysus was the son of one of Zeus''s countless affairs, and as such, Hera harbored jealousy and hatred towards him, as she did with all of Zeus''s other progeny from different women. Unfortunately, she couldn''t simply kill him, as he was one of the main gods of Olympus, and Zeus cared for him as his son. "What do you mean?" Hera asked, her earlier flirtatious tone now icy cold. Used to Hera''s hostility, Dionysus chuckled. "Helen of Sparta. Said to be the most beautiful woman ever to grace the mortal world. Some even say she rivals the great goddesses of Olympus." "What? Are you comparing a human to me?" Hera''s yellow eyes shimmered dangerously, her anger barely contained. Dionysus raised his hands in a placating gesture, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I merely relay what the mortals say, Mother Hera. Helen''s beauty is the spark that will ignite the flames of war. Her abduction has set the stage for a conflict that will shake the Achaean Continent." Zeus nodded in agreement. "Indeed, Helen''s beauty is a catalyst. This war will not just be a clash of men but will draw in the attention of gods. We must be vigilant." Hera leaned back, her expression a mix of disdain and contemplation. "Let the humans wage their war. But if they think a mortal woman can rival the goddesses, they will learn their folly soon enough." Hera prided herself on being the most beautiful goddess among all the goddesses of Olympus. Admitting that some could rival her beauty¡ªlike Aphrodite, Athena, or even Artemis¡ªwas difficult enough. Being compared to a human was an even greater insult. "Still, it''s strange, don''t you think, Father?" Dionysus spoke up suddenly, breaking the tense silence. "What''s strange?" Zeus asked, curiosity piqued. There, he saw it: a man with eyes gleaming white and gold, radiating a divine presence. "It is indeed a God of Light," Zeus murmured to himself. "Should we be worried, Father?" Hermes appeared beside him, his voice tinged with anxiety. "What kind of question is that? Of course, we should be concerned about the appearance of a God of Light. We should descend and assist them at once," Athena interjected, materializing next to them. "Hmph. You only say that because your precious prote?ge? is in danger, Athena," Hera sneered. Athena shot Hera a cold glare but held her tongue. It was true; she was deeply worried about Sienna. "What should we do, Father?" Hermes pressed. Zeus pondered for a moment before shaking his head. "We do nothing." "Father?" Athena''s brow furrowed in confusion. Hera''s smirk widened with satisfaction. "Do not intervene, Athena. Gods should not interfere every time humans are in peril," Zeus declared firmly. "But there is a God of Light!" Athena protested. "The God of Light is in a weakened state, possessing a fragile body that will not endure for long. He will not cause much harm and will disappear soon enough. We will not intervene. This is my final decision," Zeus stated unequivocally before vanishing. Athena tightened her grip on her lance. She knew the God of Light wouldn''t last long, but she feared he might encounter Sienna and bring her harm. After all, she had blessed Sienna, and if the God of Light sensed that... "Hmm?" Athena suddenly frowned, her gaze fixed on the scene below. There, confronting the God of Light, was a figure that appeared to be a demon. Hera, who had been content until now, followed Athena''s gaze and gasped. That demon... it wasn''t just any ordinary demon. She sensed an energy within him that felt disturbingly akin to the divine. "Who is he?" she asked, voicing the question that was also in Athena''s and Hermes'' minds. Chapter 77: The Battle of the Uteska Village (6) "A God of Light? What an unexpected surprise," I remarked with a smile. The God of Light turned his gaze toward me, his expression unchanging but his tone betraying a hint of surprise. "You know of us?" he asked. Khione had told me about them. One of the reasons she had stayed among the humans was to keep an eye on their foolish worship of the Gods of Light, who sought the eradication of all races except their own. To them, the demon races were nothing but filth. "Who knows?" I replied with a shrug. "Then you will die without doing anything to repent for your sins," he declared, vanishing in a brilliant streak of light. BADOOOM! A powerful ray of light tore through the space where I had stood just a moment before, obliterating everything in its path. The God of Light''s eyes widened in shock as he saw me deftly avoid his attack. I now stood on the roof of a nearby house, gasping for breath under my mask. As I steadied myself, memories of a conversation I had with Khione in the early days after I had enslaved her came flooding back. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã ''Won''t I become stronger if I scatter my Luck Points to all my other status points?'' The thought was tempting. With over 10,000 Luck Points, converting them into strength, agility, and mana aptitudes could make me incredibly powerful. Just imagining the potential was exhilarating. ''Never transfer your Luck Points to other stats,'' Khione''s voice cut through my thoughts, cold and stern. ''Why not?'' ''Luck is intricately linked to Destiny, the greatest of all Deities. What you''ve accomplished by converting your remaining years of life into Luck Points, enslaving me, and obtaining my Skill to absorb my Energy was nothing short of a miracle. It was an absurd stroke of Luck. You shouldn''t even be alive. The only reason those higher presences haven''t erased you as an anomaly is because¡ª'' ''Because I will die in less than a year,'' I finished her sentence. Khione nodded solemnly. It was true; I felt destined to die soon regardless... ''Doing it again will draw unnecessary attention to you. You will once again challenge Destiny. The price isn''t just your life. Adding Luck is one thing, but manipulating Destiny by converting all your Luck Points into strength to achieve god-like power is akin to cheating the balance of destiny.'' ''I don''t quite understand these concepts about Destiny, but you seem very serious about this.'' Her warning was frustrating. The first thing that came to mind was to at least transfer a few hundred Luck Points to my other stats. ''How about I add ten points at a time each day?'' I suggested. 3409 3854 333 10 756 250 My Strength, Agility, and Stamina stats were off the charts, but the power surging through me was already taking its toll. I could feel my bones beginning to crack under the pressure. I had no choice but to end this God of Light quickly. I raised my hand, and the sheer intensity of my mana made the air vibrate around me. The God of Light''s eyes widened as he extended his hand, which began to glow with a radiant golden light. CREAK! In an instant, his arm was encased in ice, freezing solid. With a single, swift step, I appeared in front of him, grabbed his frozen arm, and shattered it into countless icy fragments. BREAK! The God of Light staggered back, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling. I didn''t have time for lengthy explanations. Gathering all the mana I could muster, I prepared to unleash a spell. I had reached the threshold of godhood, and I was ready to cast a magic worthy of my newfound power. "God-Rank Magic," I intoned. The roof beneath me turned to ice instantly, and the very air around us seemed to freeze. The bright, sunny weather shifted dramatically, transforming into a snowy, icy landscape. I coughed up blood but pushed through the pain. "You!" The God of Light''s shock was palpable. I smirked through bloodied lips. "Go to hell. Cocytus." The world seemed to stand still for a moment. Then, a frigid white breeze swept around us with terrifying speed. When it subsided, the God of Light was frozen solid, his face locked in a horrified expression. The ice statue that had once been his form crumbled into shards, scattering across the ground. The intense cold vanished as I lowered my exhausted hands. "F...FUCK!" I ripped off my mask and spat out more blood. This wasn''t good. I didn''t have much time before the temporary transfer of my Luck Points wore off, and my stats returned to their normal levels above 10,000. Suddenly, a new thought crossed my mind. If I act quickly, I can kill Radakel while I still have this immense power. Without hesitation I kicked off the roof and flew at high speed. Chapter 78: The Battle of the Uteska Village (7) A few minutes ago... "Pathetic pests!" Jagon snarled, his irritation palpable. He was surrounded: Sienna to his right, Aiden to his left, Jason in front of him, and behind him, Siara was providing support. He had clearly underestimated them. Initially, he handled them with ease, but their strength surged when they activated their Main Skills. Jagon had learned about these abilities. All summoned Heroes would awaken their first skill, known as their Main Skill, which essentially determined their potential and strength. Once activated, their power increased several times over. Now, all of them had activated their Main Skills. Jason radiated a golden light, Sienna''s sword shimmered with a blue aura, Aiden was enveloped in an orange flame, and Siara was surrounded by a fiery red glow. The air crackled with their combined energy, their mana immense and formidable. If it had been anyone other than Jagon, they would have been obliterated instantly. Jagon could hardly believe it. Hadn''t it been less than two months since they were summoned to the Empire of Light? How could they have grown so strong already? Initially, he hadn''t taken the threat of the Heroes seriously. But now, if left unchecked, they could become exceedingly dangerous, especially the three who were engaging him head-on. "I will kill them," Jagon resolved. It was no longer just about buying time; it was about eliminating a potential future threat. He wanted to conserve his strength in case the knight who had entered the village returned, or worse, if Radakel joined the battle. But he couldn''t afford to hold back any longer. Releasing his mana, he watched as all four Heroes flinched, feeling the full force of his terrifying power. With a single swift step, Jagon appeared beside a stunned Jason. BANG! He delivered a powerful kick to Jason''s side, who couldn''t react in time to shield himself. "GUH!" Jason groaned in pain as he crashed into a nearby house. "Jason!" Siara''s face turned pale as she rushed toward him, but Jagon wasn''t about to let her get away. She had been a persistent annoyance, attacking and pestering him throughout the battle. Now, he decided to eliminate her. Jagon lunged at her with his sword, aiming to cut her down. "TAKE THAT!" From the side, a massive figure, Aiden, leaped toward him wielding his toothed sword. "Ug!" Jagon quickly caught Aiden''s sword, injuring his hand in the process, but managed to block the attack just in time. Aiden was shocked to see his attack thwarted, but he quickly smirked. "Explode!" BADOOOM! The sword glowed red before a tremendous explosion engulfed Jagon. However, Jagon had anticipated the move and prepared a strong earthen shield, which crumbled instantly as he jumped back. But the assault was relentless. BADOOOM! No sooner had Radakel finished speaking than a powerful blade of wind struck him square in the face. It would have obliterated him if not for his light shield. The attack came out of nowhere, unseen by everyone¡ªexcept Radakel himself. They locked eyes for a brief moment before both vanished. BADOOOM! Powerful shockwaves rippled through the sky as Radakel and Catnys clashed violently. "Ugn!" Catnys was hurled backward, a deep gash on her arm where Radakel''s strike nearly severed it. It was clear Radakel had no intention of playing with her. Radakel smiled coldly as he raised his hand high. "Hundreds Light of the Light Gods." The sky above Uteska turned gold in an instant, startling Catnys. Hundreds of light spears materialized, all aimed directly at her. This was not good. Catnys clapped her hands together, summoning her immense mana. Radakel''s cold voice echoed as he lowered his hand, "Die buried in your village, demon." All the light spears shot down toward Catnys and the surrounding area. She remained still, focusing intensely, blood dripping from her nose. "Seven Star Rank Dark Magic! Black Dome!" The golden sky turned pitch black as a magnificent dark dome enveloped the entire village. The light spears struck the dome, but after fifty lances, cracks began to appear. "T..That monster," Catnys muttered, biting her lip and glaring at Radakel, who stood unfazed. "It would have taken less mana if you chose to protect yourself alone. With your strength, you could easily escape death if you ran away, yet you used all this mana to protect the entire village and your filthy demon companions," Radakel chuckled slightly. "Now look at you, defenseless." Catnys groaned as the lances of light continued to hammer her dome. The spears could have injured some of the Heroes and Radakel''s men, but he didn''t seem to care. Or perhaps he knew Catnys would act to protect everyone? With a slight smirk, Radakel stretched out his hand to end Catnys. "Now die." Catnys closed her eyes. ''I''m sorry, everyone,'' she thought of the people still fighting below her, feeling a deep sense of failure. She couldn''t last long against Radakel. He was too powerful. Now she wished for only one thing. The face of a masked man flashed in her mind. ''I count on you. Take them to a safe place.'' At least the children and families would be safe. Catnys waited for death to claim her, but after a few seconds, nothing happened. Confused, she looked up and saw Radakel with a serious expression. He had lowered his hand and was staring past her. A cold chill swept over the entire village, sending shivers down everyone''s spines. Chapter 79: END of The Battle of the Uteska Village A cold chill swept over the entire village, sending shivers down everyone''s spines. Whether it was due to the cold, fear, or both, nobody could tell. A dark-clothed figure hurtled toward them at an incredible speed. The black dot grew larger and larger, gradually revealing what seemed to be a demon. Catnys, turning slightly, noticed the masked figure and smiled faintly. She had doubted he would come, but indeed, he was there in the end. Radakel, noticing Catnys''s smile, narrowed his golden eyes. He quickly surmised that the newcomer was aligned with Catnys and seemed to be a demon as well. ''So he''s the other powerful presence I sensed...'' Radakel thought. However, he felt confused. He had not expected such a strong presence in the village apart from Catnys. Feeling a sudden sense of danger, Radakel immediately canceled his hundred lances of light, and the sky returned to its normal blue. Catnys finally sighed in relief, lowering her arms. Ignoring Catnys, Radakel stretched out his hand toward the disguised Nathan. "It''s good that you came on your own. I will now crush¡ªBUUAARRRGH!!!" Before Radakel could finish his sentence, the black dot vanished and reappeared right in front of him. Nathan''s punch was so powerful that it contorted Radakel''s face, sending his blurred figure shooting hundreds of meters away, crashing through several trees in his wake. "L¨CLord Radakel?!!" Cecilia was beyond shocked, like everyone else. What had they just witnessed? The weaker Heroes immediately stepped back in fear, while even the stronger ones like Jason froze on the spot. They had never felt such immense strength before. Nathan''s figure glowed with an icy blue hue, his cold breath escaping the mask and freezing the air itself. BADOOOM! A pillar of light shot out as Radakel reappeared above the ground. His face was contorted with utter shock and anger, blood dripping profusely from his mouth. Nathan''s fist imprint was still visible, a bright red mark on his cheek. "W..who blearghh! are you?!" Radakel demanded, spitting blood. Nathan didn''t answer. He launched himself forward, leaving a trail of ice in his wake. He didn''t have time for words; he needed to kill Radakel quickly. He moved so fast that no one could see him clearly¡ªonly a blur of motion and the biting chill of his icy trail. Sensing danger again, Radakel raised his hand. "Hundreds Barriers of the Light Gods!" Hundreds of golden barriers materialized in front of him, painting the air gold once more. Nathan''s eyes remained cold and unyielding as he continued his charge without slowing down. He stretched out his hand again. "God-Rank Ice Magic." Bones in his right arm cracked, but he bit his tongue, refusing to let out any sound of pain. His body wasn''t suited to handle such immense strength, let alone using God-Rank Magic. Despite this, he persisted. Although the God-Rank magic he wielded was weaker than that of true gods, it was still incredibly powerful¡ªcapable of challenging even a weakened God of Light. "!" Radakel''s entire body shivered upon hearing the words ''God-Rank Magic.'' All those observing the fight below felt something they had never experienced before: primal fear, as if they were witnessing an event beyond their comprehension. The atmosphere shifted dramatically, and their faces contorted in terror. The very environment reacted to the impending use of God-Rank Magic. "L...Lady Catnys?!" one of the demons shouted in fear. "Don''t worry! He''s with us! Quickly, go back to the safe house with the others!" Catnys ordered. "Jagon, take everyone there!" Radakel''s eyes widened with realization, his lips curling into a sinister smirk. He could turn this to his advantage and perhaps even kill the Archdemon! On the other hand, Nathan was utterly spent. Khione had warned him that in his current weakened state, he could only manage one use of God-Rank Magic. He had already expended it against the God of Light. Yet, he had pushed himself to use it once more against Radakel. Now, he faced defeat. And possibly death. His outstretched arm trembled and weakened, his eyes slowly closing as the God-Rank Magic spear began to crack, on the verge of collapsing. "You are not worthy to be my son, Nathan. Your mother failed to raise you to even reach the heights of my heels." His father''s voice echoed in his mind. "I... am sorry, Nate... but between us... it can''t happen. It''s over..." These were the words of the only person he had ever loved and trusted after his mother''s death. That separation, four years ago, had been the final blow, darkening his heart further. In the midst of this darkness and his obsession with seeking absolute love from others, a lone figure emerged in his mind. Not Amelia, not his stepsisters, not Courtney, nor even Aisha, surprisingly. But Khione. The first time Nathan saw Khione, it felt like looking into a mirror of his past self. She wasn''t just a random choice; his desire for her was pure and profound. He longed to witness her transformation, to see her reveal more of herself in his presence. If he died now, wouldn''t she die too? Memories of their parting filled his mind¡ªher beautiful face, her voice, the way she looked at him. She hadn''t uttered any farewell words; knowing her, none were needed. But through the Forbidden Seal, their emotions were interconnected, and he could sense her silent plea for him to be careful. It was unusual for her, someone who always prioritized her own survival, to show such concern. Could it be true that she felt genuine worry and care for him, even if just a little? The thought brought him immense happiness. Khione, who knew everything about him and accepted all his flaws and virtues, had shown some semblance of care. This moment reminded him of the emotions he once felt for his childhood love, Phoebe. With renewed determination, Nathan bit his lip hard and opened his eyes, now clear and focused. His thoughts synchronized with Khione''s, and his ice magic strengthened as a result. "HAARGHHH!!!" With a powerful shout, unlike any he had ever uttered, Nathan swung his hand once more. CREAK! Another cracking sound echoed, this time from Radakel''s holy barrier. "W..WHAT?!!" Radakel was in utter disbelief witnessing the sudden change. Nathan''s lips twisted into a mad smirk as he saw the barrier weaken. BOOOOOOOM! "BUAAARGHHH!!" The spear shattered Radakel''s God-Rank Barrier and struck him in the stomach, piercing through and carrying his body miles away, devastating the forest in its wake. Chapter 80: Divine Knight Liphiel (1) As the dust billowed up from the ground, obscuring vision in the aftermath of the attack that had struck Radakel head-on, a powerful gust of wind swept through, sending smoke swirling in every direction. Despite the chaos, Catnys remained vigilant. Her eyes locked on Nathan''s body as it fell, swift and decisive. With practiced precision, she invoked a wind spell, catching Nathan just before he could hit the ground, and swiftly carrying him away from the danger zone. "Are you alright? We need to move, now!" Catnys''s voice rang out urgently amid the turmoil. Nathan, floating in the protective embrace of the wind, shook his head weakly as Catnys gently removed his mask, revealing his true, youthful face, striking in its distinctiveness. In a swift motion, Nathan retrieved a ring, invoking its power to restore his familiar guise¡ªthe facade known to all as the unassuming, lackadaisical Nathan. "Get rid of my mask and the clothes you gave me," Nathan murmured urgently, his voice strained. "We don''t have time for that¡ª" Catnys began, interrupted by Nathan''s urgent grip on her arm and the seriousness etched into his expression. "Listen to me, Catnys," Nathan insisted, his voice tinged with urgency despite his injuries. "No one must know it was me. To them, it must seem like you captured me. Do you understand?" Catnys was confused but nodded. "What do you need me to do?" Nathan exhaled with relief. "Take me back to that house where I tied up the girl. Bind me next to her and then leave me there." "Is that all?" Catnys asked, grasping the gravity of his request. "Yeah," Nathan managed a weary smile through bloody lips. "You still have the artifact I gave you, right? Use it to teleport to a safe mansion outside the Empire." In truth, the artifact was a teleportation device Nathan had obtained from Khione as a contingency plan. He had chosen to entrust it to Catnys, sacrificing his own escape route to ensure she and the others could flee to safety. ''I can''t believe I gave away my lifeline from Khione to save others,'' Nathan thought ruefully. ''But I can''t live with myself knowing I let those children die.'' ''Well, I still have another artifact just in case,'' he reassured himself silently. Catnys was at a loss for words at Nathan''s selflessness, but gratitude overcame her hesitation. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you," she whispered sincerely. Nathan managed a faint smile. "I promised I wouldn''t let my woman die or leave her in danger," he said, before abruptly losing consciousness, his strength spent. Catnys hastened her steps as she entered the house, urgency driving her every move. Following Nathan''s instructions, she descended into the underground chamber. Thankfully, Courtney still lay unconscious on the ground, her arm bound to a pipe. With a determined focus, Catnys swiftly removed the armor and clothes she had provided Nathan, along with his mask. She secured him firmly against the wall, his wounds bleeding freely and forming a dark pool on the ground beneath him. Despite the urge to heal him, Catnys resisted. Nathan''s current state was crucial to maintaining the illusion he had orchestrated. Cecilia, upon seeing the woman''s face, froze. "Hmm?" The woman noticed Cecilia and turned, smiling warmly. "It''s been a while, cute Cecilia." Cecilia flinched before quickly dropping to one knee, placing her hand on her chest. Her face turned pale instantly. "L...Lady Liphiel!" The knights, though unsure of who she was, followed Cecilia''s lead and knelt. Liphiel smiled and turned her attention back to Radakel. "Poor Radakel." She raised her golden staff, topped with a blue gem, above Radakel''s body. The staff glowed with a golden light as a sphere of blue and gold light appeared and entered the gaping hole in Radakel''s stomach. Before their very eyes, the wound began to close, the flesh knitting itself back together until it was as if nothing had happened. "Take care of Radakel, Cecilia~," Liphiel instructed, allowing Carka to lift her up effortlessly. "I want to see the Heroes." "Y...yes!" Cecilia, still kneeling, nodded. Then Carka with Liphiel in his arms kicked off the ground jumping at high speed toward Uteska. After a few seconds only he landed on one of the houses, his boots embedding deeply in the roof. "W..Who?" Amelia turned around and looked up. The few students who were with her also followed her gaze and froze seeing the extremely beautiful woman above them. Liphiel didn''t answer. Her golden gaze flickered until it settled on a white haired boy laying on the ground being treated by healers. "Oh?" / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 81: Divine Knight Liphiel (2) What''s this feeling? Warmth spread throughout my body, a sensation so soothing and relaxing that it felt almost surreal. It was an overwhelming sense of comfort, as if every muscle and bone in my body was being gently coaxed into a state of blissful tranquility. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a golden glow, and then the face of an extraordinarily beautiful woman came into view. No, she wasn''t just beautiful; she was stunning, the second most beautiful woman I had ever seen, second only to Khione. Her long, light blue hair and golden eyes were a perfect fit for her ethereal beauty, and her glasses added a unique allure. Her gentle smile was directed at me, filled with warmth and kindness. Wait. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog from my mind. Her presence was almost overpowering, like being enveloped in a comforting, yet overwhelming aura. "N...Nathan!" I heard Amelia''s voice nearby. She had tears in her eyes as she looked at me, her concern evident. Courtney stood next to her, equally worried. "Are you okay?!" Turning to my other side, I saw Siara, her usually composed face now etched with worry. "Nathan, are you alright?" she called out, a level of concern I hadn''t seen in her in three years. Sienna was there too, gently stroking my hair with a small, reassuring smile. It felt strange, almost foreign, to have so many people worried about me. For the longest time, it had only been Phoebe who cared, and even she had left. "Do you feel better, Hero Nathan?" the blue-haired woman asked, her gentle gaze resting on me. I shifted my attention to the giant man standing next to her, his presence radiating a dangerous aura, before returning my gaze to the woman. "I suppose it is thanks to you. Thank you," I said, raising my upper body with a groan. "You are welcome." The woman''s smile widened. "Who are you, Lady?" Amelia asked, her curiosity and caution evident. "Oh, yes, you have never seen me before. Let me introduce myself," the woman said, taking a step back and bowing gracefully. "I am Liphiel, a Rank Three Divine Knight of the Empire of Light." Just when I thought I had dealt with Radakel, another Divine Knight appeared. Did she come sensing the danger? Was she sent by the higher-ups because of the situation? "Rank Three?" Courtney echoed the question on everyone''s mind. "Radakel didn''t explain it to you? We Divine Knights are ranked according to our abilities, from Six being the lowest to One being the highest. Radakel is a Rank Five Divine Knight, and I am two ranks higher than him," Liphiel explained with a smile. Khione had already explained the ranking system to me, but the reality of facing a Rank Three Divine Knight was daunting. I had barely managed to defeat Radakel with an extraordinary amount of luck, and now this... I would definitely need to ask Khione about her. This did not bode well at all. "Lady Liphiel... about Lord Radakel..." Amelia''s face was conflicted, concern and hesitation battling for dominance. "Oh, there is nothing to worry about. I saved him," Liphiel said nonchalantly. My eyes widened in shock at her words, but I quickly masked my reaction. Was she serious? My spear had pierced through Radakel''s stomach, destroying most of his internal organs. "R...Really? That''s a relief... I thought, judging from the attack, Lord Radakel had died..." Amelia voiced what was on my mind. "Hmm~ Radakel did indeed die, but I can resurrect people who have died recently. They won''t be able to recover their strength and condition from before their death, though," Liphiel said. Resurrect? What the hell? "Well, it''s hard to explain, but it''s my fault in the end," I replied ambiguously. "Everyone thought you had been killed," Aisha muttered. "Did you think that too?" I asked, glancing at her. "I...I don''t know, but I''m glad that you''re still here," Aisha said softly. I smiled. "I heard that you fought well against the Demons." "Yes, but...I couldn''t do anything against the strong ones...the last one," she murmured, her voice tinged with frustration. "You did your best, and you have time. It''s been barely what? Two months?" I reassured her. "But...hmmff!" I cut off Aisha with a kiss on her soft lips. Aisha''s eyes widened as she reached out to push me away, but I caught her right hand and pressed her against the wall of a nearby house, continuing the kiss. "Hnn!" Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and her body heated up under my touch. I wrapped my other hand around her waist, pulling her closer while licking her lips. "Open your mouth, Aisha," I whispered, my voice low and commanding. "Haa??~~" Overwhelmed by my words, Aisha parted her lips, her eyes moist with anticipation. I smirked and slid my tongue into her mouth. "Hmnn~!!" Feeling another tongue inside her mouth for the first time, Aisha experienced a new, unfamiliar sensation. But it wasn''t unpleasant. Far from it. I intertwined my tongue with hers, toying with her as I hungrily explored every corner of her mouth. "Hmnnn!!" When I took her tongue between my lips and sucked on it, Aisha''s eyes melted with pleasure. Tears welled up and streamed down her cheeks, which I eagerly licked away before letting go of her tongue. "Haan...haaa~" Aisha breathed heavily, her face a deep shade of red as she gulped for air. Her hands, which had been resting on my chest, weakened and fell to the wall behind her. "Hmn!" She tried to pull away, but I kissed her again, this time licking the saliva that dripped from her lips. "Thank you for the meal, Aisha," I said, licking my lips with a satisfied grin. Aisha averted her gaze, her face still flushed, and quickly ran away, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. I will definitely take her one day. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 82: Eating Courtney (1) * After the Demons vanished, it took a few hours for everyone to be treated and for things to settle down. I didn''t see Radakel, but I guessed he was with Liphiel. We could have left immediately for the capital, but Amelia requested some rest before heading back to the palace. I understood her reasoning. The castle might have a suffocating atmosphere, after all. Liphiel, now in charge of us, accepted the request, and we all chose to rest in Uteska for the night. Despite the battle damage, there were still plenty of houses in good shape, so we could all sleep in different homes. The knights took turns on watch, ensuring everything was safe. We had a warm dinner together and then picked random houses to sleep in for the night. When I opened the door of the house I chose, it was an ordinary home. A family of Demons had probably lived here just hours ago. They had clearly left in a hurry, as there were half-eaten plates on the living room table. For a house in a random village, it wasn''t bad. The only downside was the wooden floor, which showed signs of wear. Walking past the living room and kitchen, I finally saw the rooms. There were two: one for the parents and one for their child, I supposed. The other room was clearly unoccupied. It was dark, with closed curtains and a smell of dust and stale air. I opened the wooden windows, letting in fresh air, and took a broomstick from the kitchen to clean the room. After it was tidied up, I slumped onto the bed, exhausted. It had been a truly tiring day. I was still upset that I hadn''t managed to kill Radakel. Well, at least he wouldn''t be as arrogant or smile like that anymore. I smirked, thinking about that. "Khione?" I called out to her. No answer. As expected, she was still busy. I sighed, lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The day''s events played over in my mind. The battle, the escape of the Demons, and the arrival of Liphiel. Liphiel... I think it''s really time for me to leave this Empire. There''s this gnawing, unsettling feeling that I can''t shake off, and my instincts have never led me astray. "If Jason learns that you entered my room at night, he won''t like it, Courtney," I whispered, letting my lips graze her neck and planting gentle kisses along her skin. "I...I don''t care...about him..hnnn~~!" she replied, her voice trembling with a mix of defiance and desire. I smirked as my hand ventured beneath her already rolled-up dress, exploring the soft skin of her inner thighs. Courtney''s hands gripped the bedsheet behind her, her knuckles turning white as she let my hand wander. When I reached the delicate fabric of her panties, I slid a finger beneath it, immediately feeling the warmth and wetness there. "You arrived in my room horny, didn''t you, Courtney?" I teased, my fingers grazing her slit. "Hmnnn!" she gasped, closing her thighs around my hand as soon as she felt my fingers touch her most sensitive area. "What a horny girl you are," I murmured, tracing lazy circles around her pussy, moving closer to her small, throbbing clitoris and gently stroking it. "Ahn~" Courtney shivered, her body reacting to my touch as I played with her sensitive clitoris. I teased around it, occasionally pressing it just enough to make her shudder. "Hmnnn??" she bit her lips, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure that escaped her. She came lightly, her juices coating my fingers with her thick nectar. Keeping one finger on her clitoris, I slowly inserted another into her wet pussy slit. It was slick enough to slide in easily, without causing her any discomfort. "Ahnn~~yes..." she moaned, her voice a breathy whisper filled with pleasure and need. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 83: Eating Courtney (2) * "Ahnn~~yes..." she moaned, her voice a breathy whisper filled with pleasure and need. Feeling her insides grow even more slippery, I accelerated the movement of my finger inside her tight pussy, navigating through the juicy alley that coated my finger and let her juices flow down my hand. "Ahn! N..Nathan! Hmnnn!!!" Courtney moaned as I fingered her virgin pussy, sliding in and out with increasing fervor. When I added another finger, her red cheeks twitched further, her body poised to erupt in pleasure. But before she could let out another cry, I quickly sealed her lips with mine, muffling her sexy moans with a deep, hungry kiss. "Hnnn~~!" Courtney moaned into my mouth, her thighs rubbing against my imprisoned hand. She felt an intense itch, a desperate need for more. I licked her lips further, biting her lower lip gently, and slowly laid her back on the bed, all the while keeping my fingers inside her, never stopping the relentless fingering of her pussy. Courtney''s cheeks were bright red now, flushed with desire and anticipation. The deep kiss, the rhythmic fingering in her pussy, her brain struggled to focus on one source of pleasure at a time. She had literally passed out from pleasure just a day ago, but she hadn''t been ready mentally then. This time, she was clearly ready to be fucked by me, and who was I to refuse to fuck one of my class''s beauties? When I felt her nearing another climax, I slowed down my finger thrusting, licking her lips with a teasing smile. Her thighs relaxed, the tension easing as she came once more, her juices soaking my hand. "Look at how much you cum, Courtney?" I showed her my dripping fingers with a smile. "Haa??...hmnn??...haaa??..." she panted, her chest heaving, eyes half-lidded in post-orgasmic bliss. Bringing my fingers close to my lips, I licked them slowly yet hungrily in front of a panting Courtney. Courtney averted her red face and I could see more juices flowing down her legs. Leaning in I kissed her lips with my own moistened with her own pussy juices. "Hnnn~~" Courtney closed her eyes savoring my lips back I gazed at her, taking in the sight of her flushed face, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, her nipples hard and straining against the fabric of her dress. She looked utterly ravishing, and I felt a surge of possessiveness and desire course through me. "Haaaaan!!" "God, you taste so good," I murmured, my breath hot against her sensitive flesh. "So sweet." I licked her again, slow, deliberate strokes of my tongue, tasting every inch of her. She moaned, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more. I took her clit into my mouth, sucking gently, then harder, flicking my tongue over the sensitive nub. "Oh yessss! Lick me up!! Ahnnn!!" Courtney was a writhing mess beneath me, her moans filling the room, her hands clutching the sheets. I licked and sucked her clit, my fingers sliding into her pussy, moving in and out with a steady rhythm. She came again, her juices flowing over my hand, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. I didn''t stop, didn''t slow down, driving her higher, making her come again and again, until she was a quivering, moaning mess beneath me. "Nathaaaan...I..I''m...mnnn...feeeling weird..." "Not yet Courtney," I smirked. I moved up her body, kissing her deeply, then positioned myself between her legs. I could feel her heat, her wetness, and it drove me wild with need. I teased her slit with the head of my cock, watching her eyes flutter closed, her mouth opening in a silent scream of pleasure. Everything was ready now. Taking Courtney''s virginity and fucking her. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 84: Eating Courtney (3) * Everything was ready now. Taking Courtney''s virginity and fucking her. "Tell me you want it," I asked, my voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you need me." "Hmmn...yes.." she gasped, her hands gripping my arms. "Please, I need you so much." "As you wish!" With a single, deep thrust, I buried myself inside her, feeling her warmth envelop me. "Ughnnnn!!! It hurts!! Ouch!!" she cried out, her face contorting in pain. "One more!" I pulled back slightly and then thrust deeper, tearing through her hymen. "Aghnnnnaaaaan! Ughnnn!" Courtney tilted her head back, her expression a mix of pain and shock as her virginity was taken. I pulled out my dick, and a mess of blood mixed with her juices followed. "Courtney, look at me," I said softly, stroking her face, which was twisted in pain. "It''s over, you see?" She opened her eyes, tears glistening, and nodded shyly. "You''re not a virgin anymore. I took it," I said with a smile, a sense of possessiveness and pride filling me. Courtney averted her gaze, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and lingering pain. I could see the mix of emotions swirling in her eyes¡ªrelief, fear, and a new sense of vulnerability. Gently, I kissed her forehead, trying to soothe her. "I''m sorry it hurt, but I promise it will get better," I whispered, caressing her cheek. "You did well." She nodded again, her breathing gradually steadying. I could see her trying to process the intensity of what had just happened, and I wanted to be there for her, to guide her through this new experience. She was just a high school student, after all, and she needed some reassurance. I was certain that, more than looks and popularity, she had chosen Jason for his stable financial condition since he was rich. But she chose me for none of those reasons. Now it was my role to make her feel that she gave her virginity to the right person. "Do you want to stop?" I asked. "We can take a break if you need." Even though I didn''t want a break. I just wanted to fuck her right now. "No," she whispered, her eyes meeting mine with determination. "I...I want to keep going. I want to feel more." "Hmnnn!!! I..I love it!! HAAAANNN????!!" She shook her head weakly, but her voice told the lusty truth. Her legs moved weakly over my shoulders as I took control, moving her waist back and forth while thrusting my dick deep inside her. Courtney''s only role was to moan and writhe in pleasure as I fucked her in the pussy that had been virgin just minutes ago. Each thrust made her pussy walls clench around my cock, squeezing it and begging for more. The tightness of her pussy was incredible. Slowly, I felt my stamina waning. Maybe I had overexerted myself today? I wasn''t sure, but I knew I had to finish the job, to completely fuck Courtney. I accelerated my pace, feeling the familiar tension building in my groin. "Ughnn!" I groaned, but kept my rhythm steady. "AHNN??! AHNNN??! HMNNN??! HAAAAN??! I FEEEEL WEIRRDDD! AAAHNNN??!" Courtney''s moans grew louder and more desperate. Creak! The bed, which had been creaking with our movements, now sounded as if it might collapse at any moment. "HAAAAN!!" That final moan from Courtney was the signal. I thrust my dick as deep as I could, releasing everything inside her. "Ooooh! Fuck!!" I groaned, holding Courtney''s waist off the bed to ensure every drop of my cum would be swallowed by her pussy. "HYAAAAAAAAN??????!!! AHNNNN!!!" Courtney moaned louder, her body convulsing and arching off the bed as she climaxed, reaching her final orgasm. "You feel so good, yeah!!" I groaned, holding her legs as ropes of cum continued to shoot inside Courtney''s pussy. "HOOOOT! HMNNNN??!!" Courtney''s eyes rolled up, and she gave one last moan before passing out, her body falling limp on the bed. I had truly cum a lot inside her. Pulling out my dick, I saw a stream of blood mixed with a lot of my semen and her juices. Getting down off the bed, I felt my legs sore but I wore a satisfied smile on my lips. Courtney lay there with her legs spread, her body sweaty and red, her face teary and flushed. She would never forget her first time. I had fucked her so hard she had let out such raw, vulgar moans. The girl who had always looked down on me and ignored me was now lying on my bed, thoroughly fucked by my dick, having moaned in utter pleasure without holding back a bit. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 85: After Loving Courtney A warm breeze blew through the open window, causing my brows to twitch slightly as I stirred from my sleep. Slowly, I opened my eyes and was greeted by the sight of Courtney''s beautiful face, her features relaxed in the peaceful embrace of sleep. The soft morning rays had already started streaming through the window, casting a gentle glow over our bed and illuminating her delicate features. With a smile playing on my lips, I inched closer to her and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. "Ah!" Courtney flinched slightly, and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she woke. "I know you''re awake, Courtney," I said with a light laugh. She averted her gaze, looking away shyly before finally opening her eyes. She fidgeted nervously, gripping the bedsheet to cover her naked body up to her breasts. The sight of her made my desire to be with her again surge, but I knew it wasn''t the right time. Morning had already broken, and the risk of being discovered was too great. I couldn''t help but wonder if any of my classmates, who were residing nearby, had heard Courtney''s passionate moans throughout the night. If I were to make love to her again right now, there would be no way to fool anyone. Besides, I had my reasons for wanting to keep my polygamous tendencies a secret from Amelia and Aisha, at least for now. The current versions of Amelia and Aisha would never accept such a relationship. I needed them to fall more deeply in love with me, perhaps even to the point of obsession, before they could entertain the idea. While I had no doubts that they would eventually accept my desire for multiple partners, thanks to my extraordinary charm and luck, I understood that their Earthly upbringing had ingrained a strong preference for monogamous relationships. Polygamy was often viewed as unhealthy, a perspective I found fair but restrictive. "H¡ªhum, I should leave now before...someone comes up..." Courtney''s voice trailed off, breaking my train of thought. "Why? You don''t want anyone to find out that you just spent the night with the class''s weakest and nerdiest guy?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "Wha...n¡ªno! It''s not that at all!" Courtney quickly responded, her voice filled with urgency as she met my gaze. Her face had turned pale with worry, and her eyes were wide with panic. Courtney was undeniably one of the people who bullied me. Although her actions weren''t as severe as those of Aidan and Nancy, she still contributed to my misery. We were classmates, but she seemed to harbor a dislike for me, which I suspected was because I was Siara''s stepbrother. Siara, who had an unrelenting crush on Jason, was in constant competition with Courtney for his attention. Feeling threatened by Siara, Courtney''s animosity extended to me. However, she couldn''t openly confront Siara, who was extremely popular at school and had an even more popular older sister, Sienna. Courtney blushed deeply, nodding weakly. I could feel my desire rising as I looked at her, lying defenseless on the bed. The urge to take her right then was strong, but I restrained myself. She had just lost her virginity, and even after being with Amelia, I knew it was best to give her a couple of days to recover fully. "Better if you leave now," I said, and Courtney nodded, standing up and shielding her body, which I had ravished the day before, from my view. Her modesty only added to her allure. She should have clothes in her space ring anyway. Sighing, I stared at the ceiling. "Khione?" I waited, but there was no answer. Was their meeting really that important? It seemed a war was looming, and the gods were taking it seriously. I wanted to hear Khione''s thoughts about Radakel and the appearance of Liphiel. Usually, Khione would offer advice on how to handle such matters or approve my plans, but now she was absent, leaving me with no one to confide in. Quite hard to decide but... "In the worst case, I will have to enslave her with a New Forbidden Seal." / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 86: Morning In Uteska Morning had arrived, and we were all preparing to leave Uteska. The village, once teeming with Demons, was now eerily empty. Radakel''s knights had discovered the burial site where the Demons had interred the bodies of already dead Humans. They used this grim revelation to further instill fear and hatred in my classmates against the Heroes. Radakel had trained his followers well, and these particular knights were even more enraged by the fact that a Demon had defeated and ''killed'' Radakel, though it had actually been me in disguise. I hadn''t planned any of this. My only intention had been to disrupt whatever schemes Radakel had in place, and while I succeeded, it had the unintended consequence of significantly heightening animosity and suspicion towards the Demons. Worse still, Radakel was alive and would likely exploit this failure to further manipulate Amelia and the others. As I stood up, I groaned, feeling pain throughout my body. It wasn''t from the previous night with Courtney but something else entirely. "Probably the after-effects of the Temporary Raise..." I muttered. Khione had warned me there might be consequences, and now I was feeling the effects. Every step seemed to tear at my legs, but I had grown accustomed to pain. I had fought countless monsters in the forest and faced death on several occasions, which some might call arrogance, but I saw it as sheer stubbornness. This resilience had led to tremendous progress. The hardest part had been overcoming my fear of death¡ªnot eliminating it entirely, but managing to push past it. For anyone seeking to become truly strong and make significant leaps in power, overcoming this fear was crucial. Otherwise, the instinct to flee in the face of a stronger opponent would be nearly impossible to ignore. Coming from Earth, a relatively peaceful world where wars were rare¡ªthough perhaps I was exaggerating, given my country''s alarming trend of school shootings¡ªI had the fortune not to be directly affected by such violence. But my father''s presence and the way he raised me was unique enough to set me apart from the rest despite all the pain I went through. The fear of death was something else entirely, and I had somewhat overcome it thanks to fighting stronger monsters and having Khione as my guardian angel, saving me from the brink of death at the last moment. "Maybe I''ve become a bit possessive of my beautiful snow-white goddess," I mused with a small smile. She had saved me, after all. Even though I doubted whether I would have died, I was sure the consequences could have been worse, given that I had used God-Rank Magic twice. This begged the question: why did Liphiel save me? She could have left me in that state to rid herself of the thorn I was¡ªa thorn, albeit a small one, in the minds of the Divine Knights. But she chose to save me. Was it to gain the trust of the other Heroes? I didn''t know, but I had no trust in any Divine Knights. Cecilia was the only one I trusted a bit, despite her affiliation with the Divine Knights. She was truly different from them. I was still searching for the reason why the Divine Knights took her in, but it might take time, and I didn''t have much of that. "Oh my, such a kind hero you are, Nathan, but I was only doing my job," Liphiel said with a smile. That smile was too kind to be genuine. "I heard what happened to Radakel. Is he alright?" I asked, feigning concern. I knew that bastard was alive, and I didn''t care about him, but I had to play the part of the innocent hero for now. "Radakel left in the morning, but yes, he is alright. You must have been truly worried," Liphiel replied almost sarcastically? But something caught my ears. Radakel left in the morning? Why? "You can''t imagine how much," I said, plastering a smile. Chapter 87: Nathan Parkers Death "Welcome back, Heroes," Emperor Philip greeted us with a broad smile as we emerged from the portal. His expression was incongruous given our recent failure, suggesting either a practiced facade or a different understanding of the situation. Despite his welcoming demeanor, I couldn''t ignore the satisfied look on his face. It was the look of a man who had Cleary indulged in pleasures during our absence, fucking her hard. My suspicions were confirmed when I spotted Nancy standing a bit away from him, yet close enough to spark curiosity and whispers among us. Liphiel, ever the responsible leader, stepped forward. "We have failed, Your Majesty. Please accept our apologies." Philip''s smile faltered, an awkward tension seeping into his posture. "It''s not a complete failure, Lady Liphiel. The demons have left our territory. That, in itself, is a victory." His attempt at consolation did little to hide the underlying power. It was clear that the Divine Knights wielded considerable influence over the Emperor. Nancy, with a mischievous glint in her eye, couldn''t resist a jab. "Looks like you utterly failed everyone~" Aiden shot her a withering glare as he walked past. "Fuck off, Nancy. While I''m out there fighting, you''re cowering like a bitch in the castle." Nancy''s smile widened. "I don''t think anyone should take pride in losing, though. Don''t you agree, Jason?" Jason''s fists clenched, his knuckles whitening before he stormed off. Siara and a few other girls followed, casting icy glares at Nancy. "Where are the others?" Amelia asked, her concern for the students who had stayed behind evident. Nancy shrugged nonchalantly. "I don''t know, teacher. Probably crying in their rooms, asking for their mommies?" She laughed derisively as she sauntered away. Since she started fucking with the Emperor, her attitude had only worsened, reminding me unpleasantly of her behavior back on Earth. Emperor Philip attempted to diffuse the tension. "As I said, there is nothing to be ashamed of, Heroes. You should now take a well-deserved rest. A sumptuous dinner awaits you." His eyes scanned the group, pausing briefly on me, making my skin crawl. His gaze was scrutinizing, almost invasive, before he turned and walked away. "Liphiel, follow me. We need to talk," she called out to Cecilia, and the two departed, leaving the rest of us to our own devices. "Ah! I''m tired!" one of my classmates exclaimed, breaking the silence. "Let''s rest," another agreed. "The guy at the end was scary!" someone else murmured, relief mingling with exhaustion in their voice. "Thank god Jason is here!" a classmate added, looking towards where Jason had gone. Slowly, my classmates began to disperse, heading towards their respective rooms, their steps heavy with fatigue. I trudged back toward my room, my mind heavy with thoughts. I needed rest before I could prepare for what lay ahead. What was it that awaited me? Well, the time had come. My time in this Empire was drawing to a close. Staying here any longer would be perilous. The recent arrival of a Third-Ranked Divine Knight did not bode well. She seemed wary of me, and I couldn''t blame her. At least she wasn''t aware that I was the one who had "killed" Radakel. That secret, however, was a ticking time bomb. The constant game of hide and seek was wearing me down, and I was tired of living on edge. If I wanted to become stronger and advance, I needed freedom, something I could not obtain here. As I approached my room, I noticed that my maid, Anna, was absent. Had they finally realized it was pointless to keep her here? I had done my best to act like any normal teenager, and perhaps they believed there was nothing more to spy on. Slumping onto the bed, I closed my eyes. A few hours seemed to pass, but when I opened them again, the sun had already set. My heart thumped heavily in my chest, a sense of unease gnawing at me. "Something isn''t right at all..." I muttered to myself. Liphiel''s sudden appearance, the Emperor''s peculiar gaze, Anna''s unexpected absence¡ªeverything felt off. Khione''s silence added to my unease. Was it all connected? I couldn''t be sure, but I trusted my instincts. I stood up from the bed just as a knock echoed through the room. "Who is it?" I called out. "Hero Nathan?" a knight''s voice responded from the other side of the door. He entered, his expression serious. "What?" I narrowed my gaze, my guard up. "The Emperor has called for you. He wishes to discuss your abduction," the knight said. My abduction? What did he want to know at this hour? "Alright," I nodded, suppressing my suspicions for the moment. I followed the knight, my mind racing with possibilities. I could choose to escape right away with my Artifact, but leaving no traces of suspicion was paramount. Fleeing immediately after being summoned would only raise more questions and create more problems. I would talk to the Emperor and leave silently tonight. Although I had planned to depart tomorrow, my instincts screamed that now was the time. I''ll explain everything to Khione later. "Good reasons? Or are you not aware? Demons have put a forbidden magic in your body during your kidnapping. And they teleported all in the castle using that to attack us. The good news is that there had been no casualties, the bad news though is that Hero Nathan had been killed before his body taken away by the Demons. Such a sad outcome just when we managed to save Hero Nathan~" I ignored her once more. I was just buying time. Why doesn''t it work? I clenched the artifact again. I can''t use mana. Why? Huh? My eyes widened in realization. I looked at Liphiel. That woman... When she was healing me... she took advantage and sealed all my mana. "I can''t even use mana..." I murmured, the full horror of my situation dawning on me. "Oh?" Liphiel said, breaking off from her earlier stupor, a smug smile spreading across her face. "Just a measure of safety. We''ll see if a god steps in to save your life now." Khione? I called out to her. But there was no answer, just like always. Now I was certain¡ªsomething had happened to her. But she wasn''t dead; I could feel it with my seal. Am I going to die, then? My heart thumped heavily inside my chest, a frantic rhythm that matched the turmoil in my mind. My life flashed before my eyes. My mother, Phoebe, first. Then those two twins... My father. My step-mom. Sienna and Siara. Amelia, Courtney, and Aisha. Finally, Khione. I wished I could make her smile genuinely. "Am I going to die?" I asked out loud with a slight tremble in my voice. I heard Liphiel mumbling something, but I ignored her. AM I REALLY GOING TO DIE? The words echoed in my mind, plunging me into darkness. The threatening aura engulfed me, and I felt my life slipping away. The mind-boggling pain hit my legs first, then my arms, slowly consuming me. My consciousness began to fade as the agony spread, pulling me into the abyss. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Liphiel looked ahead, her eyes fixed on the black and red charred ground where Nathan had stood just a moment ago. Now, his existence had completely vanished. "Prepare to release the demons we have captured in the castle and warn our knights. Not a single hero should be injured," Liphiel commanded, turning around with a wide smile. "Hero Nathan is dead." END OF VOLUME 1 Chapter 88: Summoned Again? "Is everything ready?" The urgent voice of a woman echoed through the dimly lit cave. Her footsteps resonated against the stone walls as she walked, accompanied by a few others clad in black robes. If one looked closely, they would notice their slightly pointed ears, revealing their origins from the demon race. However, the young woman leading them wasn''t wearing a robe. She wore a jet-black light armor dress that clung to her curvaceous figure, highlighting her every movement. Her face was nothing short of breathtaking. No, the word seemed inadequate to describe her beauty. She didn''t need ornate jewelry or flashy dresses to exude an aura of elegance and charm that far surpassed the common world. Her most striking features were the two dark protruding horns on her forehead, parting her beautiful white hair that cascaded like a waterfall. Her intense red eyes gleamed with determination as she moved forward. "Yes, Princess. Everything has been prepared, and we may start now," the priest beside her confirmed with a nod. "Then we shall proceed," the Princess replied, her voice steady and resolute. They entered a dark chamber illuminated only by the flickering glow of candles. The air was thick with the scent of burning wax and the low, ominous chant of demon priests gathered around a blood-drawn circle on the ground. "Are you sure about this, Princess?" a beautiful woman next to the silver-haired princess asked, her voice laced with concern. "I am, Lucia. More than ever, we need this. We have finally obtained the technique for the forbidden summoning. It would be foolish not to use it," the Princess responded, her tone unwavering. "But Princess, it could be dangerous..." Lucia''s expression was conflicted, her eyes reflecting worry. "I know, but we don''t have any choices," the Demon Princess muttered, biting her lip in frustration. "The Empire of Light has summoned the Heroes, and their progress is much faster than we anticipated. The Divine Knights will use them to destroy our armies, and they will handle the rest. We can''t let that happen." His ambition was clear: the expansion of his empire to encompass the entire continent, necessitating the destruction of all neighboring countries. Faced with no other options and overwhelmed by the Demon King''s strength, the Empire of Light, with the Emperor of the Goddess Khione, invoked a divine spell to summon Heroes from another world. These were the first heroes, possessing extraordinary talents and strength. They nearly vanquished the Demon King but ultimately failed. A second class of Heroes was then summoned, also exhibiting great power and coming close to killing the Demon King, but they too failed in the end. However, this second battle left the Demon King with severe wounds, forcing him into a period of rest. Realizing the possibility of truly defeating the Demon King this time, a third class of Heroes was summoned two months ago. This new group arrived with the hope of finishing what their predecessors had started and ending the reign of terror that had plagued the continent for so long. The Demon Princess was acutely aware of the intricate and dire situation her country faced. The threat was greater than mere external enemies; it was a matter of survival for her people. Dark magic was the only recourse left to her, and despite its perilous nature, she was determined to wield it for the sake of Tenebria. "Do it," she commanded with unwavering authority. The priests, arrayed around the blood-drawn circle, began their incantations, their voices a haunting chorus of ancient prayers. They raised their hands high, and the dark red light from the circle intensified, filling the room with an ominous glow. Shadows danced wildly on the cave walls as the dark magic took hold, the air thick with its malevolent energy. The ritual lasted for what felt like an eternity. The red light pulsed and throbbed, casting an eerie glow on the faces of those present. Finally, the light began to recede, and silence descended upon the room. The Princess, her breath held in anxious anticipation, slowly opened her eyes. She gasped at the sight before her. Lying within the circle was a man, his body charred black and red, devoid of limbs. He appeared lifeless, a grotesque and tragic figure of suffering. "A corpse?" she muttered in disbelief, her heart sinking. Had they failed? Was all hope lost for Tenebria? Suddenly, a soft whisper escaped from the charred mouth. The sound was faint, barely audible, yet it carried a spark of life. The Demon Princess''s eyes widened in shock and hope. "Save him! Now!" she cried, her voice urgent and commanding. Chapter 89: Meeting the Goddess of Love I felt a warm sensation spreading all over my body, a stark contrast to the agony of being burned alive by Liphiel''s men. The sudden change puzzled me, and as my eyes fluttered open, I found myself staring at a white expanse. No, it wasn''t a ceiling. Everything around me seemed to be bathed in an ethereal white glow. I sat up, holding my throbbing head, trying to make sense of my surroundings. "You are awake, finally?" A melodious voice rang out, sounding almost divine. I turned toward the source of the voice and fell silent. Standing before me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, surpassing even Khione in beauty. She had long, flowing pink hair that reached her curvy waist and captivating pink eyes that looked at me with genuine excitement. She wore a white dress reminiscent of ancient Greek attire, clinging tightly to her voluptuous body. My eyes couldn''t help but wander to her ample breasts, which seemed on the verge of spilling out. If I had a real body, I would have probably gotten an erection, but my form seemed transparent for some reason. More pressing was the intense desire I felt to take her right then and there, a desire that was undoubtedly influenced by her presence. "Who are you?" I asked, narrowing my gaze at her. Her pink eyes sparkled with exhilaration as a blush appeared on her cheeks. "Finally, we meet, Nathan Parker. I have been observing you for quite a while, you know?" she said with a smile. "You didn''t answer my question. Am I dead?" I asked, looking around at the endless white space. It felt like a place people might be brought to after dying. "You don''t remember? You should have died. Or at least, from anyone else''s perspective, you were as good as dead," she said, her voice a melodic blend of amusement and allure. "But I pulled you back from the brink at the last possible moment. Right now, your body is undergoing treatment. Whether you ultimately survive depends on your willpower, but I have no doubt about your strength." Her smile, both sexy and enigmatic, played on her pink, plump lips. "Who are you?" I demanded, struggling to piece together my fragmented thoughts. "Aphrodite," she answered simply, her voice carrying the weight of her name''s significance. I assumed Aphrodite was keeping me somewhere while treating me, but I wasn''t sure where. In any case, I was certain I was no longer in the Empire of Light. Aphrodite shook her head. "Unfortunately, Hera isn''t the only problem. Another god is after Khione, and he''s far more problematic." "What? Who''s after Khione?" I asked, my concern deepening. "Poseidon. He''s been chasing Khione for thousands of years, and this time, she couldn''t escape him. She managed to delay him for a few months, but that time has run out. As a friend, I couldn''t let Khione fall into his grasp, so I took her into my custody," Aphrodite said, puffing out her chest with a sense of pride. And she didn''t tell me anything? I wasn''t aware of such a deal, though I knew something was wrong. Did she think she could handle it alone? Did she really believe I would let anyone touch her? Khione was my woman. "I suppose now your curiosity has been satiated. Just send me back to Earth," I said to her, my voice edged with irritation. Aphrodite giggled, a sound both charming and slightly mocking. "I can see right through you from miles away, Nate. You want to kill Poseidon, force me to release Khione, and then wipe out all the worshippers of the Gods of Light." "If you know it, then all the better," I replied, disinterested. "But you are already on Earth. You have been summoned by the Demons as their Hero," she revealed, her grin widening. "What?" I asked, caught off guard. Aphrodite''s smile grew even more mischievous. "I think this position suits you more than being the Hero of the Humans, Nate. But taking on Poseidon in your current state, I highly advise against it, regardless of whatever Forbidden Skill you have in your possession." She had observed me well enough, that was certain. Her knowledge of my ambitions and abilities was unnervingly accurate. "But summoned as the Hero for the Demons?" I mused aloud, the idea taking root in my mind. It seemed far more interesting than my previous summoning. Chapter 90: Broken Body When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by darkness, or rather, a half-darkness. Groaning softly, I raised myself into a sitting position, feeling a dull ache in my limbs. The conversation with Aphrodite was still fresh in my mind, as if it had just happened moments ago. Summoned as a hero by the Demons? The notion was surreal, yet here I was. I glanced around, taking in my surroundings. The room was dimly lit, but I could make out its lavish furnishings. Ornate tapestries adorned the walls, and an intricately carved wooden dresser stood against one side. Velvet drapes hung heavy over tall windows, allowing only slivers of moonlight to pierce through. Despite the darkness, it was clear that this was a room of opulence and luxury, a stark contrast to what I had expected. As a human from another world, summoned into the midst of demons, I had anticipated a much harsher reception. The fact that they had placed me in such a room and not a prison cell was surprising. Even more so was the absence of any shackles on my arms, legs, or neck. Shifting my body, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, intending to stand. A sharp, unfamiliar sensation in my left leg made me flinch. Pulling up the pant leg, likely provided by my captors, I stared in shock. My left leg was gone, ending in a neatly bandaged stump just below the knee. Attached to it was a crude prosthetic, a rod strapped to the stump to serve as a makeshift leg. My breath caught as I examined my right leg. It was intact but covered in burn scars, remnants of a painful past I had not yet remembered fully. With a sinking heart, I checked my right hand. There was nothing. Pulling back the long sleeve, I saw that my right arm ended in a similarly charred stump, half of it burned away, the rest marked by ugly scars. The sight was horrifying. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand, the effort sending a wave of pain through my damaged limbs. "Hgn!" I grunted, feeling immense pressure on the stump of my left leg. Biting back the pain, I pushed forward, making my way to the bathroom. Each step was a struggle, my body protesting with every movement. I leaned heavily against the doorframe, then the wall, until I finally reached the mirror. Any god could have discovered my illicit relationship with Khione, but it was the least dangerous goddess who did. Once the water was ready, I removed the rest of my clothes and stepped into the steaming bath. I had made it intentionally hot, almost scalding. The heat seared my skin, but I suppressed the groans of pain as I let it wash over my scarred body. The burning sensation brought a strange sense of cleansing, as if the heat could wash away the remnants of my suffering. My muscles, once strong and defined, were gone. My bones were visible beneath the tight, burned skin. I looked like a shadow of my former self. "I am starting truly anew, huh?" I murmured to myself, the sound of my voice echoing softly in the small bathroom. Thankfully, my stats hadn''t changed. I still had my high attributes, but they were temporarily blocked because my current physical state didn''t align with them. Instead, I had a different set of stats, ones that matched my weakened condition. These new stats were quite miserable, to say the least, but I didn''t care. They were just numbers, temporary setbacks. It wouldn''t take long to recover my strength, but the loss of my left leg, right arm, and left eye was a more complicated issue. How much time had passed since my injury? Days? Weeks? Months? Certainly not years, or I''d already be dead, considering I had less than a year to live when this began. After half an hour in the hot water, I stood up awkwardly, my right leg slipping on the wooden prosthetic. The sensation was still strange and uncomfortable. Fortunately, there were clothes nearby, seemingly tailored to fit my new stature. I put them on carefully¡ªa set of shirt, coat, and pants that clearly belonged to a rich Demon officer. I tore a piece of the black curtain to fashion a makeshift eye patch, hiding my unsightly left eye. The rough fabric felt abrasive against my skin, but it would serve its purpose. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and stepped out of the bathroom. Let''s see who summoned me this time. A Goddess again? Or someone else. Chapter 91: Meeting the Demon Princess As I walked through the corridors, I received strange gazes from everyone I passed. All of them were obviously Demons. It was an unusual sight for someone like me, who was accustomed to seeing humans. The Demons, whether knights or workers, looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, but none of them acted on their thoughts. I assumed they knew who I was. My current cold expression seemed to intimidate them, causing them to refrain from saying anything. Unlike the enthusiastic welcome I had received from the population of the Light Empire, this one was far less warm, but I felt more comfortable with it. At least the Demons were honest in their reactions. Many of them clearly doubted me. With my ragged appearance, like a peasant who hadn''t eaten in days, and my need to lean against the wall to walk with one leg, their skepticism was understandable. They questioned whether I was truly a Hero or just a random man. I needed to meet the people who had summoned me first, regardless of any decisions made while I slept. Whatever their plans, I had to know and act accordingly. The corridors I walked through had a distinctly demonic style, but there was a certain charm to it. The walls were adorned with dark, intricate designs, and torches cast flickering shadows, adding to the eerie ambiance. As I passed windows, I caught glimpses of a large city outside. Unlike the bright, bustling capital of the Light Empire, this city was sinister and silent. I could see people walking through the dim streets, but they didn''t look healthy. They stumbled along, searching for food or money in the polluted, darkened environment. "Am I really in the capital of Tenebria?" I wondered. If the Demons had summoned me to fight for them, it made sense that I would be in their capital. And this building, with its grand architecture and imposing presence, certainly looked like a royal castle. "This way, Sir Hero," a demon knight called out to me as I paused in my steps. I looked at him and stretched out my hand. "Sir?" "Your sword," I said, glancing at the long sword hanging from his waist. "Milord, I can''t¡ª" "It''s an order from your Hero," I cut him off icily. The knight flinched at my gaze, looking around nervously as the other knights exchanged uneasy glances. Despite my crippled state and seemingly inoffensive appearance, I needed to appear dangerous in their eyes. In the end, the knight nodded and handed me his sword. Without unsheathing it, I used it as a cane, leaning on it for support as I walked. My long, white hair, inherited from Khione, swayed with each step, giving me the appearance of an old man. Once vibrant and shining, my hair was now disheveled, some strands charred black from my injuries. "Lucky?" The Princess''s lips also twisted into a smirk. "For all these six months, we have treated you without expecting anything. We are the unlucky side." Six months? That''s a lot. So what? I have a month or two to live? For some reason, my smile widened at the prospect. Maybe I had lost a part of myself in that dying experience. The Princess looked confused by my eerie smile, while the others seemed more scared. "Princess... this man is dangerous..." a woman, who seemed like the Princess''s secretary, muttered in her ear. My enhanced ears picked up everything. "I will make it simple for you, Demon Princess," I tapped the sword on the ground once before pulling it from its scabbard. All the knights around me stepped back and drew their swords in panic. "Leave that weapon!" "Or else we will kill you!" "Princess!" Guards warned and others shielded the Princess. I ignored them and stood upright with the sword pointed at her. "It''s okay, move," the Princess commanded. "But Princess¡ª" "Move, I said. I want to see him," she replied, staring back at me seriously. I met her gaze coldly. "The Divine Knights are my enemies, as they are yours," I declared. When I mentioned the Divine Knights, the Demons seemed even more confused and curious about my identity. "I shall lend my strength to you, and you shall provide everything I wish for. A mutual alliance. If you do that, I guarantee that I will rid this world of every single Divine Knight and bring the Empire of Light to its knees." Chapter 92: The Hero of Darkness The throne hall exuded an atmosphere of stern severity, a palpable tension filling the grand chamber. It had been a week since the Hero of Darkness had been summoned, and the air was thick with anticipation and unease. Hero of Darkness¡ªyes, that was the name they all called him. The title arose from the dark aura that had enveloped him upon his awakening in this world. His jet-black hair and the dark, intricate tattoos running the length of his arms only enhanced this menacing persona. The fact that he always dressed in black did nothing to alleviate the impression. Moreover, he had awakened with the most ominous of magics: dark magic. This was not just any magic but an extremely rare and ancient art, a lost magic that had not been seen since the era of the first Heroes of the Light Empire. Why reach so far back in history? Because the last known wielder of such potent dark magic was none other than the Demon King himself. The memory of that day was still fresh in the minds of everyone in the hall¡ªthe day he was summoned. He had appeared, lying wasted on the cold, stone floor. By the Princess''s command, he was treated by the best healers in the kingdom, but he did not wake up immediately. It took six long months for him to awaken, and when he finally did, it was with a disturbing confidence. Surely, he was from another world? He seemed unperturbed by the summoning, and their appearance did not frighten him in the least. This left them unsure whether to feel relieved or more fearful. The Summoning of Heroes was a technique utilized by other Empires and Kingdoms, but Tenebria had been entirely unaware of it. They had no knowledge of how it worked. The idea had only arisen because of the Princess, who had dreamed of a Goddess. In her dream, the Goddess had provided all the details and means to perform the summoning. The news had been a divine gift to them. A God had finally taken their side? Until now, no Gods had dared to align themselves with Tenebria, as doing so could mean antagonizing all the other Gods. Tenebria had been isolated, their people suffering for the sins committed by a King who had lost all reason. But the fact that a Goddess reached out to the Demon Princess gave them a glimmer of hope, and the Princess was not about to let such an opportunity slip through her fingers. She proceeded with the summoning, and the man who appeared, as she discovered six months later, was unique to say the least. He feared nothing. None of them could instill fear in him. The maid and Commander Lucia, who stood beside Azariah. And a tall man who exuded great strength. He had long black hair tied in a ponytail and prominent horns. His eyes were serious as he looked at his Princess. "I do not trust him, Your Highness," Kratos said, his voice low and intense. Azariah exhaled. "I know, Kratos. But until now, he has done nothing suspicious." "How long will that last? We can''t be sure. I ask again to shackle him appropriately so he can''t betray us, Princess," Kratos insisted. Shackling him seemed the best way to prevent Samael from betraying them. But all of them feared his response. He was already cold and dark, and they did not even want to imagine how he would react if they shackled him. "No," Azariah shook her head. "We can''t do that to the Hero given to us by the Goddess." In the end, Kratos reluctantly nodded. CLANK! Suddenly, the doors swung open. Before Kratos could glare at the disturbance, a knight knelt down, his face pale. "I... It''s the Princess Ameriah! She has left her room again to see the Hero of Darkness!" / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 93: Princess Ameriah One week. It had been one week since I woke up from the abyss of unconsciousness. But it had been six months since I was summoned into this tumultuous reality. Baaaam! The sound of my fist colliding with the solid surface reverberated through the air, a testament to the force behind my strike. I stood in a special training room, meticulously designed by the Demons for my rigorous regimen. This place was no ordinary training ground¡ªit was an arena where the very fabric of space conspired against me. Gravity here was an unforgiving force, bearing down on me with relentless pressure. To add to the challenge, the ambient mana was rendered inert, making it impossible to channel any magical energy. Sweat cascaded down my dark hair, trailing over my face and dripping onto my bare torso. My body still bore the scars of past battles, the burn marks etched into my skin a constant reminder of my ordeals. Though they had faded somewhat, their presence was still palpable. My left leg and right arm had miraculously regenerated, a gift from the Demons'' arcane techniques that triggered my second awakening. Watching my own limbs grow back was a disconcerting experience, a surreal blend of awe and horror. As I continued my relentless push-ups, I caught sight of the inky black marks snaking along my arms¡ªcurses that seemed to intertwine with my very essence. They looked sinister, like dark vines wrapping around my flesh. I didn''t fully understand their origin, but I suspected it was linked to the Dark Magic that I had recently awakened. This new power came with a price: my emotions felt distant, muted. I was no longer the same person, not as attuned to my feelings as I once was. Perhaps it was the absence of Khione and my other allies that weighed on me. Or maybe the treachery of the Divine Knights had left deeper scars than I realized. Aphrodite had warned me about Poseidon''s obsession with Khione. He was relentless, constantly searching for her. The only reason she remained hidden was because of Aphrodite''s intervention. She had offered to let me see Khione, but I declined. I needed to deal with Poseidon first and ensure he was no longer a threat. Only then would I claim Khione as mine, securing her safety and our future. My thoughts drifted to those I left behind in the Empire of Light¡ªCourtney, Amelia, Aisha, Sienna, and Siara. Each of them held a special place in my heart, and their well-being weighed heavily on my mind. Strange. Previously, I might have already tried to secure her for my own desires, but now I found myself much more patient, not looking at her with such blatant lust. But I couldn''t help but wonder why she continued to approach me despite my constant rejections. It seemed to be all about her curiosity regarding the outside world. I had heard that because of her health, she wasn''t allowed to leave the palace. Perhaps that was why. Walking toward her, I grasped her hand forcefully. "Ha!" she gasped as I pulled her to her feet. I stared at her, my right eye hidden by a cloth while my left, once burned to a crisp, was now healed, bearing a burn mark but transformed into a golden eye with a vertical demonic slit. That demonic gold eye, uncovered, bore into Ameriah, who gulped and averted her gaze. My hand reached out, caressing her soft, unblemished, yet pale cheek. "U... Um... Lord Samael?" Ameriah''s voice trembled with nervousness. The dark desire to taint her flickered within me, yet my gaze remained cold and neutral. I was examining her. "Aren''t you scared of me?" I asked, my tone as cold as ever since I woke up. Everyone in the palace was scared of me. Their initial fear only grew after they witnessed my dark magic and my absurd progress rate. Ameriah''s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might flee. But then, she took a deep breath and met my gaze, though she still trembled. "I... I am not scared of you, Lord Samael," she said softly. "You... you intrigue me." I raised an eyebrow, releasing her hand but not stepping back. "Intrigue you? And why is that?" She hesitated, glancing down at her hands. "Because you are different. You are from another world, yet you have endured so much here. You possess strength and resilience that I admire. And... and I believe you can help us." Her words were sincere, and despite my cold exterior, I could sense the genuine concern and hope in her voice. Chapter 94: Princess Azariah "Because you are different. You are from another world, yet you have endured so much here. You possess strength and resilience that I admire. And... and I believe you can help us." Her words were sincere, and despite my cold exterior, I could sense the genuine concern and hope in her voice. Despite my initial skepticism, her words didn''t seem like a ploy to win me over. They felt genuine. "I will help the Demons as long as their goals align with mine," I said, my fingers brushing her cheek. "Eliminating the Divine Knights? I heard about it..." Ameriah mumbled, averting her gaze. "Yes, I suppose we are allies then," I confirmed. "But after that?" she asked hesitantly. "After what?" Ameriah clenched her fists. "Nothing." I brushed my fingers across her lips as I leaned in closer. Her intoxicating scent filled my nostrils. "What beautiful horns you have," I muttered, glancing at the elegant protrusions above her pretty face. They didn''t detract from her beauty; if anything, they enhanced it. "W... what are you doing, Lord Samael?" Ameriah tried to pull away nervously. I looked down at her. "Coming here repeatedly, did you really think I''d let you go each time?" "W... what could that mean?" she asked, swallowing hard. "You don''t really know?" I closed the distance between our lips. Her red eyes shut tightly. Her reaction only intensified my desire. Just as my lips were about to meet hers... "Samael!" The sound of a sword being drawn rang out. Without fully separating from Ameriah, I glanced at the newcomer. It was, predictably, Azariah. "What is it, Princess?" I asked, my tone cold and tinged with annoyance. "S... sister, I... I..." Ameriah opened her eyes and shook her head in denial. "I don''t know what happened..." "But I do trust that you won''t lay a hand on any woman without her consent," she continued. "Please refrain from touching my sister. She is sick, and I don''t want anything that might aggravate her health." Her red eyes bore into mine. My golden eye flickered, the slit narrowing further, making Kratos and Lucia flinch. "I already told you what I want. Just find me a Divine Knight, and I will kill them for you," I said, my voice icy. "You keep asking the same thing again and again, but Divine Knights don''t just appear out of nowhere. You are our Hero. Can you at least help us? You might find a Divine Knight by helping us," she said, her tone filled with exasperation. "You are lying," I said flatly. She was clearly desperate for my help but didn''t know how to ask without involving the Divine Knights. "But since I am the only Hero, I will help you," I added. Aphrodite had saved me by summoning me to this kingdom. That meant she either had good ties with this kingdom or at least viewed it favorably, unlike the other gods. Helping this kingdom could be a way to repay her for saving my life, and I supposed she wanted that as well. Azariah seemed surprised that I agreed. "R-Really? Then good! Follow me," she said, leading the way. Ignoring the other three, I walked beside her. "You..." Lucia glared at me. "I am annoyed to repeat myself. I am not under your orders, Princess. I''m your equal. You are the one needing me, remind yourself of that," I said. The others gnashed their teeth in anger, but Azariah was used to my speech by now. "I know. I just want your help," she said. "With what?" I asked. Azariah sighed. "The Heroes summoned by the Kingdom of Kastoria." / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 95: Princess Azariah (2) "The Heroes summoned by the Kastoria Kingdom?" I asked, my tone laced with disinterest. Once, such news might have startled me, but now it hardly registered. Khione had already informed me that other gods from various pantheons supported the summoning of these so-called Heroes. "Yes, according to our informants, they are preparing to attack us at the border of Aurol," Lucia replied, her voice tinged with urgency. The border of Aurol? The name stirred a vague memory, but I couldn''t place it immediately. Sensing my confusion, Lucia elaborated, "The Western Border. We share it with the Kastoria Kingdom, separated only by a few mountain ranges." "Antagonizing another kingdom besides the Empire of Light? That''s quite the hindrance," I said, my irritation evident. I didn''t care about the Kastoria Kingdom or its Heroes, but this added conflict was an unwelcome complication. Nevertheless, I would handle it for Aphrodite. It was my way of thanking her, and reminding her that I was still present, ensuring she wouldn''t try anything funny with Khione. Though I doubted she would, given the high regard she seemed to hold for me. My harsh words made Azariah visibly upset. "They are the ones who antagonized us, and for nothing." "Nothing? Didn''t you initiate a genocide against all other races to expand your Kingdom?" I retorted, my voice cold and accusing. "T-That was my fathe¡ªthe Demon King''s doing! We don''t deserve the consequences of his sins! All the Demons want is peace! Because of his tyranny, even some of our own had to flee to other Kingdoms, where they faced execution just for existing!" Azariah''s anger was palpable. Her words brought to mind Catnys and the villagers under her care. They were among those who had fled the Kingdom. I see. "Where is the Demon King now?" I asked. Azariah fell silent once more. Her reluctance to answer was telling. It confirmed my suspicion that the Demon King was still alive but in no condition to govern. "As long as the Demon King is alive, the other Kingdoms will continue to antagonize you," I said coldly. "You know this, yet you keep him alive." Khione was one of those who wanted the Demon King dead, but I suspected she knew he had already stopped governing and that his daughter had taken the reins. Azariah bit her lip. "That doesn''t concern you." "It does, whether you want it to or not," I replied, pushing her against the wall. "You!" Had he overheard my conversation with Azariah? "Think whatever you want, just get me an armor and a sword, old man," I retorted. Cadell''s expression flared with anger. "You! Respect your elders!" Azariah''s soft laughter echoed in the room as I turned to leave. "Let''s call for a meeting after all this time." ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã The conference room of the Demon Castle was grand and imposing, dominated by a large rectangular table capable of seating a dozen people. The atmosphere was thick with tension, the air almost crackling with unspoken words and wary glances. At the head of the table, where the ruler would typically sit, were two figures. Azariah sat in her usual place, her presence commanding respect. Beside her, however, was an unusual sight: a dark-haired, strikingly handsome human, one eye concealed by a black blindfold reminiscent of a pirate. His legs were propped up disrespectfully on the table, the soles of his boots brazenly displayed for all to see. His arms were crossed, and his expression was inscrutable. "Lower your legs," Kratos, seated next to the man, commanded with a cold stare. The man, Samael, ignored him, maintaining his casual, defiant posture. "Princess, why did you call us? Is he the Hero of Darkness?" asked a strikingly beautiful woman with long dark hair and piercing red eyes. Her prominent horns, both lengthy and exquisite, marked her as a powerful Demon. "Yes, Semiramis. He is the Hero of Darkness, Samael," Azariah confirmed with a nod. At the mention of Samael''s name, the atmosphere shifted. All eyes turned serious, scrutinizing the dark-haired youth with a mix of curiosity and wariness. "Before we start, I have something to announce," Azariah said, rising from her seat. She glanced at Samael, her eyes betraying a hint of hesitation before she steeled herself and spoke. "I have decided to appoint the Hero of Darkness, Samael, as the Lord Commander of all the Demon Armies of Tenebria." Chapter 96: The Army is Myself "I have decided to appoint the Hero of Darkness, Samael, as the Lord Commander of all the Demon Armies of Tenebria." A collective gasp rippled through the room. The announcement was nothing short of a bombshell. The Demons exchanged looks of surprise and unease, their expressions a blend of disbelief and contemplation. "P... Princess?!" Kratos''s voice trembled with disbelief. Among the assembled demons, his shock was the most palpable. The title of Lord Commander, the Supreme Commander of all Armies, was the highest rank one could achieve in the Demon Kingdom, second only to the royalty itself. Memories of the previous Lord Commander still lingered vividly in everyone''s minds. Under the Demon King, the former commander had been as powerful as he was merciless, executing the king''s ruthless orders without question. His defeat by the Heroes of the Light Empire had left the position vacant for years. Azariah had prioritized other matters over appointing a new Lord Commander¡ªuntil now. Azariah''s decision to resurrect the title and bestow it upon the Hero of Darkness was a deliberate one. The title of Lord Commander was not just an accolade; it was a beacon of absolute strength that instilled fear across the continent, even among the Divine Knights. Elevating Samael to this position was a strategic move to inspire hope among their people and signal the dawn of a new era for the Demon Kingdom of Tenebria. Kratos''s upset was evident. It would be a lie to say he hadn''t coveted the rank himself. Known as the strongest knight and an archdemon, Kratos had garnered respect and camaraderie among the knights. The idea that this prestigious title and the highest rank were being granted to a human¡ªa foreigner from another world, albeit a Hero¡ªwas unfathomable to him. The other Division Commanders shared his skepticism, their expressions mirroring his disbelief. Anticipating their reactions, Azariah was ready with a response. Her voice was calm but commanding as she addressed them. "After all these years, a Goddess has finally smiled upon us, and Samael is her gift to us. We all know how many gods are against us, yet this Goddess has reached out in goodwill. If Samael is her gift, I trust her judgment. I trust it completely, and thus, I trust Samael." She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing, her gaze unwavering. "Our goals are aligned. Elevating him to the rank of Lord Commander is a pivotal moment for us all. This marks the beginning of a new era where the Demon Kingdom of Tenebria will rise again. For this, I need all of your cooperation." Kratos sighed, a smile breaking through his stern demeanor. "I will never refuse you anything, Princess. As much as I don''t like him, I recognize his strength. I will be the Vice Commander. I am Kratos," he said, finally standing and addressing Samael directly. Samael, had remained silent until now, his legs shaking slightly on the table. His single golden slit eye wandered around the room, taking in the faces of the five Commanders, Cadell, and the other nobles. They were all waiting, expectant. Azariah stepped forward, holding a black metallic armband. "Here, this is the symbol given to all the Lord Commanders for generations by the previous rulers," she said, handing it to Samael. The armband bore black horns and red eyes, a terrifying emblem known across the world. It signified the wearer as the strongest knight of Tenebria. Samael ignored her, clearly reluctant to don the armband. Azariah, not giving him a choice, grasped his left arm forcefully and clasped the armband around it. Samael frowned slightly but did not resist. With a serious gaze, he finally spoke. "Since all the antics are over, tell me where the Heroes of Kastoria are." Kratos nearly erupted at the apparent disrespect Samael showed towards the ceremony, but he calmed himself, recognizing the gravity of the situation. Semiramis spoke up. "From our sources, they should reach the western border within a day. It might be a first show of strength by the Kastoria Kingdom to instill fear in us." Samael''s face twisted with contempt as he recalled the puppet king of the Light Empire. "Another pathetic attempt from the rulers of a kingdom. I''m used to it now," he said dismissively. Semiramis, sensing his readiness to act, asked, "Should I prepare the army? Five thousand troops should suffice, or should I ask for more?" Samael, already standing and ready to leave, stopped and turned his head. His single gold eye glowed darkly as he replied. "The army is myself." Chapter 97: Goddesses Meeting High above the mortal realm, where human eyes could not reach, the gods had made the sky their home. They built their own world above, watching over mortals from their lofty abodes. Yet, this divine existence was not without its complications. The gods, with their differing opinions and cultures, eventually separated themselves into distinct pantheons. This division helped maintain a semblance of harmony. Zeus, after overthrowing his father, established Olympus, an immense palace where he and his family resided, along with the other gods who became known as the Olympians. But Zeus and the Olympians were not the only deities in the heavens. There were the Gods of Valhalla, who held their banquets in the grand halls of Asgard. The Gods of Amun ruled over their own domains, carrying the legacy of ancient Egypt. The Kamis, the spiritual beings of Shinto, watched over Japan from their sacred shrines. The Gods of Babylonia, whose ancient powers shaped the cradle of civilization, also chose their own paths. Despite their differences, the gods did not remain isolated. They often came together, crossing the boundaries of their pantheons to discuss, debate, and enjoy their immortal lives. Today, in a secluded and ethereal space, a particular reunion of divine beings was taking place. "Ha~ I am bored..." A woman''s voice echoed through the serene gathering, her tone dripping with ennui. The speaker was divinely beautiful, with long white hair cascading down her back and glowing pink eyes. Her flowing white dress barely concealed her voluptuous figure, some strands of her hair teasingly slipping into the deep valley of her twin peaks. Her slightly tanned skin added to her irresistible allure. She was Ishtar, the Mesopotamian Goddess of Love, War, and Fertility. "You should show more elegance as a goddess, Ishtar," a serene voice replied. The speaker had long, dark hair and eyes that glowed like the sun. She wore a stunning white kimono that covered her entire body, and she sipped from a cup filled with divine water as she spoke. She was Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess of Shinto. "Indeed," a melodious giggle chimed in from another divine beauty. She had long, bright red hair styled in unique, intricate braids, and her purple eyes glowed mischievously as she looked at Ishtar with amusement. She was Freyja, the Norse Goddess of Love and Beauty. A goddess sighed at their quarrel. "Should we discuss the matter of importance today?" asked Isis. Her long black hair fell down in intricate locks, adorned with several golden ornaments. Her silver eyes shone beautifully, and black tattoos framed her eyes, adding to her regal presence. "I wish we could, Isis, but two people are missing," Amaterasu replied, glancing at the two empty seats. They had invited Khione and another goddess, but neither had arrived. "Sorry I''m late, everyone!" Suddenly, a cheerful voice rang out. One of the empty seats was now occupied by a divine beauty with long pink hair and matching pink eyes. With Aphrodite''s arrival, five goddesses were now present, each surpassing the standards of divine beauty. Even among the gods, their presence could cause one to lose reason. Ishtar clicked her tongue in annoyance at the sight of Aphrodite. Freyja also seemed displeased. Aphrodite kept her smile. "You''re speaking just like those losers Athena and Hera. But I won in the end," she said, puffing out her chest. "Then I suppose you won''t take the Achaeans'' side?" Isis asked, referring to the Greeks, including Sparta. "Of course not. I will support my side until the end. The Trojans." Aphrodite confirmed before abruptly disappearing. "This little bitch..." Ishtar seemed a bit upset. "Leave it. I have already taken steps to inquire about the Hero of Darkness. The best outcome would be to get rid of him," Amaterasu said. "You mean?" "Yes, Isis. I sent the heroes I have summoned in Kastoria for a first battle against the demons at their border," Amaterasu confirmed. Amaterasu was the one who had assisted Kastoria in summoning heroes from another world. She wasn''t alone in this; other kingdoms and empires supported by the goddesses present here had also summoned heroes. "Do you think they will suffice, or do you need help from my heroes?" Ishtar teased. The heroes of the Babylonian Empire were reputed among the gods to be the strongest. "Sending just Phoebe should be enough to wipe out their armies, though," Ishtar added with a giggle. Amaterasu responded with a cold look. Her heroes were also very strong, but she had to admit that the heroes supported by Ishtar seemed to be the strongest, along with those supported by Isis and Freyja. In contrast, the heroes summoned by Khione were reputed to be the weakest among all the classes of heroes summoned. "Since Amaterasu is taking care of it, I won''t ask my heroes to intervene," Freyja said, leaving with a smile. "If you need my help, I will assist you, Amaterasu, but until then, I will not ask my heroes to fight. We have our own problems in Sumatra," Isis said with a wry smile before disappearing. "Well, good luck, Amaterasu," Ishtar said and then vanished as well. In the end, only Amaterasu remained. She was a bit apprehensive about the Hero of Darkness, but she believed in her heroes. "I will confirm it with Kaguya for the attack," she muttered to herself and then left as well. Chapter 98: Toward Colchis "I don''t think this is reasonable, My lord," Semiramis said, following closely behind me. When I declared that I could handle the Heroes of Kastoria alone, everyone had been stunned. The nobles, in particular, seemed to be restraining themselves from outright calling me arrogant. They looked at me as if I embodied hubris itself. But I wasn''t arrogant. It was simply the truth. "What''s not reasonable?" I asked, continuing my stride without a pause. "Fighting the Heroes of Kastoria alone. Did you really mean it?" she asked, disbelief evident in her voice. "Yeah, I''m stronger than them," I replied nonchalantly. "Forgive me, Your Excellency, but you have never met them before, I assume? I do believe you have significant fighting experience and strength, but fighting several heroes at the same time is dangerous even for you," Semiramis cautioned. It was true that I hadn''t met them. I''d only heard bits and pieces from Khione about the Heroes summoned by the other kingdoms. At that time, I had been preoccupied with the Empire of Light, so I hadn''t paid much attention to the other Heroes. But I was confident in my abilities to defeat these Heroes. The only question was how much time it would take. And besides, I wasn''t exactly going to fight alone. If the Heroes of Kastoria, who had been silent until now, started attacking the Demons, I could only guess it was because of the appearance of the Hero of Darkness. They probably discovered that a new wielder of Dark Magic, similar to the Demon King, had emerged and sent their Heroes to test me. If that was the case, then it was very likely a god was involved in this. And if a god was involved, I needed to be even more cautious. "I won''t fight alone. Before heading to the western border, I need to go somewhere. Come with me," I said to Semiramis. "Your Excellency, this isn''t the time to go elsewhere. This is an urgent situation, and we have to¡ª" "You speak too much," I interrupted, turning around and pressing Semiramis against the wall. My eyes roved over her delicate features before my finger lightly brushed against her lips. "Milord..." Semiramis looked at me, trying to maintain her composure, though I could sense her inner turmoil. "Follow my orders," I whispered in her ear. "Do you understand?" "Y...yes," she nodded. "Good," I said, stepping back. "Get me armor and a sword. There might be some bloodshed." During my time in the Empire of Light, I learned a harsh truth: I was essentially alone. Khione was an ally, but I didn''t want her involved in my conflict with the Divine Knights. She had the trust of the Divine Knights, and I wanted to keep it that way. Her role as a spy and influencer was too valuable to jeopardize. So, I needed allies¡ªloyal allies who would follow my orders without question. Unfortunately, Semiramis and the others didn''t quite fit that description. "Too long. I have a better way. Follow me," I interrupted. Semiramis, puzzled, followed me outside the castle. We waited for a moment until a golden flash appeared in front of us. Semiramis drew her sword quickly, but I stopped her with my arm. There stood a tall, incredibly beautiful man with short golden hair, radiating a divine aura. He was undoubtedly a god. Semiramis was speechless as she looked at him. The man looked down at me, given his height. "I am here on her behalf; I can''t refuse anything to her, after all," he said with a smile. "We need to head to Colchis," I said shortly. "I can easily bring you there in less than a minute, but I hope you won''t forget my face and that I helped you, Hero of Darkness," he said with a grin. I glanced at his legs, noting the two pairs of wings flapping on either side of his feet. If I had to guess, this guy was Hermes. "Alright," I nodded. "Then fine, let''s start," Hermes said, grasping both my and Semiramis'' shoulders. We both felt a floating sensation, something divine striking us. After a long minute, we found ourselves floating above the sea, high in the sky. "Then good luck with your future endeavors!" Hermes said before disappearing, leaving us falling. "A... at this rate we will die!" Semiramis was panicking a little. I twisted my body mid-air, quickly wrapping my arm around Semiramis and pulling her closer. Her breasts pressed against my side. Then I stretched out my hand, and a surge of darkness sprouted out, covering both of us and slowing our fall. When I spotted a boat peacefully moving below, I clenched my fist, and the darkness threw both of us toward it. "Kyaa!" Semiramis let out a startled cry, completely caught off guard. Still holding her around the waist, I landed strongly on the boat''s deck. "Woah!" "Who?!" "What the hell?!" All the sailors turned toward us warily, drawing their weapons. "This boat is mine now. Set sail for Colchis," I said in a dry tone. Medea, the Enchantress famous for having killed her own brother and children in cold blood, was there years prior to those events as a princess. Chapter 99: Meeting The Greek Heroes "This boat is mine now. Set sail for Colchis." I said with a dry tone. "Are you kidding us, kid? Do you want to die?" The man, who seemed to be the captain of the boat, glared at me, his eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and anger. But then his gaze shifted past me, lingering on the alluring figure of Semiramis, standing quietly behind me. Her presence was undeniably captivating, and I could see the greedy glint in his eyes as he ogled her. "Oh, you''ve got a good woman there? Leave her behind and jump off the boat, and I might spare you," he sneered, licking his lips in a lecherous display. Semiramis looked at him with utter disgust, but she remained silent, waiting for me to act. She could easily handle these men on her own, but today I was in charge. She stood there like a soldier awaiting orders from her commander, showcasing her discipline and loyalty. This Lord Commander rank was starting to feel quite empowering. I found myself enjoying the authority, the way people obeyed without question. It was a nice change of pace. "Have you gone deaf? I told you to sail for Colchis," I repeated, my voice firm and unyielding. The captain laughed, a harsh and ugly sound. "Hah! Kill him and bring me the woman! We''ll have a nice chat!" One of his men, a brute with an ugly grin, approached me, sword drawn, clearly eager to follow orders. But as he reached out, he suddenly realized his hand was empty. Or rather, he had no hand at all. Both his arms had been neatly severed, blood spurting onto the wooden deck in a gruesome spray. I flicked my sword to clear the blood, and no one had seen me move. My strike had been lightning fast, too quick for their eyes to follow. "This is the last time I''ll ask before I slaughter every last one of you," I said, my voice dropping to a menacing growl. Darkness began to swirl around me, and my golden eyes glowed with a dangerous, pulsing light. The slit in my eyes narrowed and widened rhythmically, adding to the ominous aura. "Set sail to Colchis, or I''ll send you all to sail towards Hades," I continued, invoking the name of the God of Death to intimidate them further. It seemed to work; the men recoiled in fear, and several let out terrified whimpers. The captain himself looked pale and shaken, a dark stain spreading across his trousers. "YESSSS!!!" he screamed in panic, clearly eager to comply. "Disgusting," I spat, turning away from them. I headed towards the interior of the boat, claiming the captain''s quarters for myself. Semiramis followed me, her face a mask of calm, though I noticed her shiver slightly as we passed through the darkness I had summoned. The Demon Kingdom had a traumatic history with Darkness Magic, a legacy left by the previous Demon King who had used it to commit untold atrocities. "You want the Princess of Colchis, Medea, don''t you?" Semiramis asked as we settled inside the room. "Exactly," I nodded, reclining in the armchair and propping my feet up on the desk. "I''ve heard about Medea. She''s a dangerous sorceress. I don''t understand why the Lord Commander wants her," Semiramis said, her voice tinged with confusion. It was a reasonable reaction. Medea was known for her dark magic and unstable emotions. Any sane person would steer clear of her. But I wasn''t exactly sane anymore. Near-death experiences tend to change a man, and I needed someone like Medea¡ªsomeone with a twisted side that matched my own. "I will make her mine, that''s all you need to know," I replied, my voice leaving no room for further questions. I ignored it, continuing to walk. The voice belonged to Heracles, who quickly caught up and placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to stop me. He was imposing, but his presence didn''t intimidate me. "What?" I asked, turning to face him. Heracles seemed taken aback by my directness. "You''re not from around here, are you? Did you come from another continent?" "Yes, I''m here to meet the King," I replied, shrugging off his hand. "Oh, you''re meeting the King too?" Jason joined us, eyeing me suspiciously. "I hope you''re not here for the same reason I am." "I couldn''t care less about the Golden Fleece. Do whatever you want with it," I sneered, leaving him momentarily speechless. Before Jason could react to my dismissive attitude, Orpheus held him back. They ended up trailing behind us as we made our way to the small castle. At the gate, a guard stopped us. "State your business." Jason stepped forward with a confident grin. "Good morning. I am Jason, and these are Heracles, Atalanta, and Orpheus. I''m sure you''ve heard of us. We wish to speak with the King." The guards quickly opened the gates, clearly recognizing them. "Oh, and just so you know, they''re not with us," Jason added, glancing back at us as he walked in. "Who are you, and why are you here?" the guard asked, eyeing me suspiciously. Jason smirked, giving me a wave as he disappeared into the castle. "L-Lord Commander..." Semiramis whispered, sensing the tension rising. It wasn''t fear for our situation that made her nervous, but rather what she anticipated I might do next. / / / If you like it and want to support me and want more chapters, please support my work with powerstones, comments and REVIEWS. It will motivate me to write more! Thanks! Chapter 100: Medea Inside a lavish room, the air was infused with the delicate scents of exotic perfumes, mingling with the vibrant hues that adorned the space. The walls were graced with exquisite artworks, each piece a testament to the room''s opulence. In the midst of this splendor, a strikingly beautiful woman sat, the centerpiece of the room''s grandeur. Medea, Princess of Colchis and daughter of King Aee?tes, was seated before an expansive mirror. She meticulously combed her dark hair, each stroke deliberate and graceful. The reflection of her smile in the mirror was enough to captivate any onlooker. Her most enchanting feature, however, was her eyes¡ªeach a different color. One shone a deep, fiery red, while the other gleamed a vibrant green, adding to her allure and mystique. At seventeen, Medea''s beauty was unparalleled. Her presence radiated a mesmerizing charm that could ensnare any man. She had been blessed with magical abilities since childhood, a gift from the Goddess of Witchcraft herself. Her talents surpassed the wildest dreams of ordinary children and even the aspirations of adults. These gifts, combined with her stunning appearance, had attracted numerous suitors from far and wide. Despite the many suitors, Medea remained unimpressed. Each man seemed more ordinary and uninspired than the last, their attempts at wooing her nothing more than the same repetitive, insipid flattery. She had grown weary of such trivial pursuits. Fortunately, her father, King Aee?tes, understood her sentiments. He sought a match worthy of her extraordinary beauty and talents, someone who could truly appreciate and complement her. With a great war looming between the Greeks and the Trojans, many sought alliances with Colchis, hoping to secure Medea''s magical prowess through marriage. The kingdom had received emissaries from both sides, but the king remained undecided, biding his time to choose the best course for his people and his daughter. Amid this uncertainty, Medea found herself disheartened by the constant stream of unworthy suitors. Yet today, a glimmer of hope flickered in her heart. Her father had asked her to don her most exquisite dress, for the guests arriving were of extraordinary renown. The illustrious visitors were none other than the heroic Jason, rumored to be the son of Poseidon; Orpheus, said to be the son of Apollo; and Heracles, the mighty son of Zeus. These were not mere men but legends, their names whispered with reverence and admiration throughout the lands. Each was considered one of the most charming and heroic figures in existence. Medea felt a surge of excitement and anticipation. These men were not like the others. They were heroes, demigods with stories of bravery and adventure. She could hardly wait to meet them, hoping that perhaps, among these extraordinary individuals, she might find someone truly worthy of her affection and respect. After adorning herself in a resplendent dress and accessorizing her hair and neck with exquisite ornaments, Medea enveloped her body in a delicate perfume. Her maids meticulously styled her hair, adding the final touches to her breathtaking appearance. With a deep breath, she exited her room, her heart fluttering with anticipation. The journey to the throne hall took only a few minutes, yet each step heightened her excitement. As she neared the hall, the voices of her father and their esteemed guests grew louder. Upon entering, Medea''s eyes widened in awe. Standing before her were Jason, Orpheus, and Heracles¡ªthe three most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on. Orpheus had an almost ethereal beauty, his features delicate and somewhat feminine. Heracles, on the other hand, was imposing and ruggedly handsome, his towering, muscular frame exuding strength, though he didn''t immediately capture her interest. And then there was Jason. His charming smile was captivating, and as their eyes met, Medea felt a flutter in her chest. Her father, King Aee?tes, noticed the exchange and smiled warmly. A heavy silence fell as slow, deliberate footsteps echoed through the hall. Out of the smoke and debris, a figure emerged, walking with a menacing grace. Jason, Heracles, Orpheus, and Atalanta, along with the other guards, readied their weapons, tense and alert. "Who dares to enter my domain?!" the king shouted, his voice trembling with fury. "Shut your mouth." The cold, commanding voice belonged to the intruder who stepped into the light. He had dark hair swept back, and his left eye gleamed gold with a vertical slit, while his right eye was obscured by a black eyepatch. Medea''s eyes widened in astonishment. She had never seen such a strikingly handsome man before. Jason and the others paled in comparison. Yet it wasn''t merely his looks that captivated her¡ªit was the aura of danger and power that radiated from him, an allure that thrilled and unnerved her. "I asked to speak with you, but your dogs wouldn''t let me in, so I let myself in," the man said, his voice dripping with disdain as he continued his approach. "You, do you have a death wish?" Jason demanded, unsheathing his sword. The man''s single, piercing eye flicked to Jason, narrowing slightly. Jason felt a shiver run down his spine, goosebumps prickling his skin. ''Am I scared?'' he thought in disbelief. "He''s dangerous, be careful!" Orpheus warned, his voice tense. Heracles clenched his fists, ready to fight, but the intruder merely frowned, unimpressed. The king, regaining some composure, demanded, "Why are you here? For the Golden Fleece?!" The king asked even though in any way he had intentions to give to him. "The Golden Fleece?" The Samael''s lips twisted up as he snickered. Behind him stood a magnificent woman, her eyes filled with apprehension. She looked at her Lord Commander nervously. Samael didn''t scared a bit of the situation they were in. Samael shifted his gaze to Medea. Her body tensed, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks under his intense scrutiny. "I want your daughter. Give her to me." Chapter 101: Challenge for the Golden Fleece "I want your daughter. Give her to me." My voice reverberated through the grand chamber, filling every corner. I made certain that no one could ignore it. The guards stood frozen, their expressions mirroring the shock etched on the faces of the King and the four Argonauts. Clearly, my bold declaration was the last thing they had anticipated. Behind me, Semiramis hesitated, caught off guard by my straightforward demand. Yet, there was no room for hesitation. My purpose here was singular: I sought Medea. "Who... who are you?" the King finally managed to ask, his voice tinged with bewilderment. The question hung in the air, a reflection of the curiosity and uncertainty shared by everyone in the room. It was evident that he sought to gauge my status before deciding on his response. "I will answer that," Semiramis interjected, her voice steadying as she spoke. "Lord Samael is the Lord Commander of the Tenebria Kingdom." "Tenebria? The Demon Kingdom?" The King''s eyes widened in shock, a reaction mirrored by the others present. Their wariness was palpable, yet absent was the outright hostility I had often encountered from the Empire of Light. This continent, it seemed, operated under different rules, almost as if it were a world apart. "Are you here under the official orders of the Demon King? Does he seek my daughter''s hand?" the King pressed on, his tone a mixture of apprehension and formality. I exhaled sharply, my patience wearing thin. "I am here on my own accord. It is my desire to have your daughter, not the Demon King''s. Instead of wasting her time within this kingdom or with other incompetents," I cast a disdainful glance at Hero Jason, "she should come with me. I will show her a life worthy of her talents and beauty." Medea remained silent, but I didn''t need to be an expert in reading emotions to see that my words had struck a chord. Her eyes betrayed a longing, a desire for something more than the monotony of her current existence. I was right about her¡ªshe craved excitement, and I intended to give her both the spice and sweetness she yearned for. "Is that a threat from the Demon King?" King Aee?tes asked, his voice tinged with nervousness. My irritation deepened. Once again, he brought up the Demon King, despite my clear indication that this was my personal mission. Now, I began to understand why Azariah kept the Demon King''s fall a closely guarded secret. His very name instilled fear and could be wielded as a powerful tool of leverage against other kings. "It''s my threat," I responded coldly, locking eyes with the King. Did he need me to beat him into understanding that I was the one dictating this conversation? I had already breached the castle, causing no small amount of distress to Semiramis, who clearly feared that my actions might draw the ire of the Olympian gods. Her anxiety was palpable, mingled with anger at the potential consequences. "If you wish, my King, we can eliminate this nuisance," Jason offered, his voice brimming with bravado. I scoffed inwardly at his audacity. Whether it was this Jason or my former classmate, they were both fools of the highest order. But engaging in a fight with demigods would be more of a nuisance than a challenge. Handling all of them simultaneously was beyond my current capabilities. After all, it had only been a week since I recovered and reawakened my darkness magic. Heracles remained silent, his gaze fixed on me. I had no time for their idle chatter, nor did I care for their opinions, so I walked ahead. Or tried to. "You think so? I just think he''s an arrogant kid whose mother was likely off playing around," Jason sneered. BADAM! My figure blurred, and my fist was mere inches from Jason''s astonished face. Unfortunately, Heracles'' strong hand caught my wrist. "Are you mad, Lord Commander?" Heracles asked, bewildered. He must have sensed it¡ªmy fist was aimed to kill Jason. "Move," I commanded, channeling more strength into my fist. Heracles'' arm trembled under the sheer force as I slowly inched my fist closer to Jason''s face. "Jason, get out of here," Heracles ordered. Jason quickly retreated. With him gone, I yanked my hand free. "The next time, I will kill him and you for stopping me," I warned coldly. "Do you have any idea who we are?" Jason laughed, disbelief coloring his voice. Ah, the arrogance of one protected by gods and the pseudo-son of Poseidon. Poseidon, the bastard who dared to lay eyes on Khione. I wondered how he would react if I sent him his son''s head. Lost in that thought, I ignored them and walked away, with Semiramis close behind. Chapter 102: Moment with Semiramis "It was a dangerous situation, Lord Commander," Semiramis stated, her disapproving tone echoing in our quarters. Sneaking into a castle and then threatening the king was indeed perilous. But I hadn''t done it recklessly. My confidence in my abilities assured me I could accomplish what I wanted. "Who cares. I will take Medea and then we''ll meet the so-called Heroes of Kastoria," I said, slipping on a simple coat for the evening gathering the king had arranged. Everything else I needed was safely stored in my ring. "But you have to first take the Golden Fleece," Semiramis reminded me. "That won''t be a big problem," I shrugged. There was supposedly a dragon guarding it if the myths were accurate. Could I defeat a dragon? I had no idea, but I''d find out soon enough. I wasn''t leaving without Medea¡ªshe was my first weapon against the Divine Knights. I glanced at Semiramis, still clad in her armor. "Are you going to attend like this?" I asked. "Yes. We shouldn''t lower our guards, Lord Samael," she replied seriously. "That''s exactly what I want them to think. They need to believe we''re careless and reckless. It will be easier to take them by surprise," I said with a neutral expression. "Now, wear an appropriate dress." "I... I don''t have a dress for such occasions with me..." Semiramis stammered, her red eyes darting around, clearly embarrassed. I had noticed her overly serious demeanor from the start. She seemed inexperienced with social situations. Drawing a white dress from my ring, I held it out to her. It was a beautiful, divine dress¡ªone of Khione''s dresses. I had kept it as a memento after fucking her hardly back then and kept it as memento after washing it. Semiramis''s eyes widened in amazement at its beauty. "Wear this," I instructed, tossing the dress to her. "R... Right," Semiramis reluctantly agreed, her hesitation dissolving under my gaze. I wasn''t lying when I said I wanted them to lower their guards. The king was a fool, and I intended to exploit his idiocy to get away with everything I wanted. "Where are you going?" I asked as I saw Semiramis heading for the door. "I need a place to change my clothes," she replied. "No, do it here. Let''s stay together," I said. "W...what? But I need to change my clothes..." Semiramis was confused. "Do it here," I repeated, my expression impassive. Semiramis gripped the white dress tightly and nodded. "Fine... but please turn around." So she was shy, huh? I had lost some sense of shame and understanding after fucking with, my teacher, Amelia, and Courtney, it must be that. I turned around and waited. "Bend over," I whispered, positioning her in front of the bed. "L..Lord Samael... please, not now..." she muttered, her voice filled with a mix of reluctance and something else. Not now? Her words confirmed my theory. She was willing but understood this wasn''t the right moment. Still, I wanted to see more of her vulnerable side. "Bend over, Semiramis," I repeated, placing a hand on her neck and gently pushing her forward. She didn''t resist. She obediently bent over, supporting herself with both hands on the bed, her face flushed a deep crimson. In this position, with her ass perfectly presented, a mischievous smile spread across my face. "Hmnnn~!" Semiramis groaned as I groped her ass. "You''ve got a good ass for a knight, Semiramis," I whispered, my words dripping with sweetness. Her ears turned red at the compliment. It was easy to read her¡ªsomeone who had grown up to become a knight, probably devoid of romantic experiences. Her demeanor likely kept men at bay, making her doubt her own attractiveness. Women like her, regardless of who says it, feel good when someone praises their body. Perhaps this was another reason she didn''t strongly deny me. This only turned me on more. Moreover, the dress she wore had already been tainted with my semen when it belonged to Khione. The urge to fuck Semiramis right there was becoming unbearable. My hand traced her back, hips, and ass. Grabbing the skirt of her dress, I was ready to pull it up and reveal her ass and pussy, but¡ª A knock interrupted us, and the door opened. "Lord?" A maid entered, her eyes widening at the sight of me standing behind Semiramis, who was bent over the bed. Her cheeks flushed a deep red. "S-sorry, I¡ª" "We are coming. Tell your King," I cut her off abruptly. "Y-yes!!" she stammered and scurried away immediately. After she left, I looked at Semiramis''s trembling body. A true virgin. "A shame, but I will have to postpone your creampie," I said, slapping her ass lightly. "Hahn!" she gasped, her body jolting from the impact. I zipped up her dress and stepped back, giving her space to compose herself. She stood up, still red-faced and breathing heavily, her eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and something else¡ªsomething that hinted at desire and confusion. "Let''s go," I said, my voice firm. "We have a party to attend." "Y..yes..." Chapter 103: Medea (2) "I thought you would never arrive," the king said with a laugh as he greeted me and Semiramis. His smile was as hypocritical as his words. Ignoring his insincere pleasantries, I walked directly toward a table. Semiramis, with a nervous nod and an awkward smile, followed closely behind me. Reaching for a glass of wine, I took a small sip and let the rich flavor linger on my tongue. "Not bad at all," I remarked, more to myself than anyone else. "Lord Commander, shouldn''t we at least show some respect to the king of Colchis?" Semiramis asked, her voice edged with concern. "This trash doesn''t deserve any respect. I wish I could just kill him and take his daughter away," I muttered, the words barely audible. But that would only further antagonize the gods of Olympus. Aphrodite had warned me that I was already under their scrutiny; it was wise to play it safe for now. Semiramis sighed when I mentioned killing the king. Suddenly, a commotion erupted as the four heroes of the Argonauts¡ªJason, Heracles, Orpheus, and Atalanta¡ªarrived. They were all adorned in beautiful attire, but my gaze was fixed on Atalanta. Her beauty was undeniable, a true vision, though it was a shame she associated with those three. "Lord Commander... Atalanta is a woman of Artemis... I think you shouldn''t touch her," Semiramis whispered, noticing my lingering stare. "Artemis, hm," I mused. The Goddess of the Hunt, one of Zeus''s daughters, known for her fierce temper. I had heard tales of her turning men into prey for her beasts for less. She was one of the goddesses Khione had warned me to be wary of, along with Athena and Hera. Jason cast me a cold stare as he walked away with Orpheus, but to my surprise, Heracles and Atalanta approached me. I ignored them until Heracles spoke up. "Lord Commander." "What do you want?" I asked, cutting straight to the point. "I think we may have started on the wrong foot. We are here only for the Golden Fleece, and you are here for Princess Medea, isn''t it?" he asked. "Yeah, I couldn''t care less about the Golden Fleece," I replied. "Then I think we can come to an arrangement. Let''s work together and share the rewards. You take the Princess, and we take the Golden Fleece," he proposed. "Let''s leave," I finally said to Semiramis, sensing the time was right. She nodded in agreement, and together, we retreated to our quarters. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã That night, as the world outside succumbed to silence, Semiramis and I prepared for rest. She chose to sleep on a bench-like structure, despite my repeated offers for her to join me on the bed. Her wariness of our situation was still there. As for myself, sleep eluded me. My eyes remained wide open, fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought. A soft series of footsteps soon disrupted the stillness outside our room. The door creaked open slowly, and through the narrow opening, a pair of heterochromatic eyes peered in. It was unmistakably Medea. She entered quietly, closing the door behind her with careful precision. Clad in her pristine white dress, she stood before me, her face a picture of resolve and vulnerability. "Father stopped me from speaking with you, Lord Samael," she confessed softly. "I know," I replied, acknowledging her plight. Her cheeks flushed with color as she took hesitant steps towards me. "I... I also want to go with you," she admitted. "I know that too," I said, having sensed her desire long before she voiced it. It was clear in the way she looked at me. "Become mine," I said. "I will give you everything, but in exchange, I demand your undying loyalty. Your body and soul must belong to me." As I spoke, her eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and submission. She climbed onto the bed, her hands softly caressing my thighs. Her gaze remained fixed on mine, hazy with desire. "With pleasure, Lord Samael," she whispered, her voice dripping with seduction. She leaned in, pressing her lips against mine in a tender yet fervent kiss. Her teeth grazed my lips, and her tongue traced their outline. I allowed her to savor my lips as my hands wandered to her shapely hips, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric of her dress. My body responded instinctively, my desire for her manifesting physically. Medea continued to devour my lips passionately. "Hmnn~" Wrapping my arms around her waist, I felt her moan softly into the kiss as my hands roamed to her firm backside. In one swift motion, I flipped her onto her back, taking control. The moment had arrived to fuck her hard enough to imprint my mark on her engraving it deep inside her. Chapter 104: Medea (3) * In one swift motion, I flipped her onto her back, taking control. The moment had arrived to fuck her hard enough to imprint my mark on her engraving it deep inside her. Medea''s eyes, one red and one green, gazed at me with an expectant gleam. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. "I... I waited so long for someone like you, Lord Samael," she said, her voice trembling as she looked up at me with hazy, desire-filled eyes. I ran my fingers gently along her cheeks, feeling the warmth of her skin before brushing them across her lips. With a deliberate slowness, I pried her lips open and inserted my index finger. "Hmm~" Medea''s beautiful lips sucked eagerly as I explored the soft interior, eventually touching her tongue. Then, I added my middle finger, thrusting them slowly in and out of her mouth. "Hnnn~" she moaned softly. My other hand moved downwards, lifting her dress slightly. At my touch, Medea''s legs, which had been stretched straight on the bed, started to pull back in anticipation. Retrieving my hand from her leg, I reached for the strap of her white dress and slowly slid it off her shoulder. The simple white dress, with its two delicate straps, easily slipped down, revealing her fair shoulder. I kissed it tenderly. "Hmm??," Medea moaned, her breath hitching as she continued to suck on my fingers, wetting them with her saliva. I could feel her tongue swirling around them. After placing several soft kisses on her shoulder, I lowered the dress further, unveiling her beautiful breasts. They were fair, with an oily sheen that made her skin glisten in the dim light, likely some kind of product to enhance her allure. The sight of her oily breasts only heightened my arousal. Grasping her left breast roughly, I lowered my mouth and began to lick her areola. "Mnnn??!" Medea''s body shivered at the touch, her skin responding eagerly to my tongue. I smirked, continuing to lick and suck on her left breast, avoiding her nipple, which soon stood erect, begging for attention. Medea''s breasts weren''t large, so my mouth could cover a substantial part of them. I sucked and bit at her skin, eliciting more moans from her. "Hmmmnnn..." Medea''s hands gripped the sheets, and her bare feet wriggled on the bed. Finally, I aimed for her nipple while lowering the other strap of her dress, revealing both of her perky breasts. My hand moved to her other breast, taking it roughly in my palm as I massaged it. My tongue lavished attention on her already sensitive nipple, licking and rolling it repeatedly. Medea could only let out small whimpers, her eyes becoming slightly teary, as my fingers continued to fuck her mouth. Her nipples hardened even more under my relentless attention. "HYAAAAA!!! HUUURRTSSS! OUCH!" Tears ran down Medea''s cheeks as I finally tore through her hymen. She shook her head in pain but eventually started to calm down, her breathing heavy and labored. "Shh," I whispered, brushing her hair back and kissing her forehead gently. "The pain will pass soon." Medea''s body slowly relaxed beneath me as she adjusted to the intrusion. I held still for a moment, giving her time to acclimate, my hands gently stroking her waist and thighs. "L..Lord Commander?" On the sofa, Semiramis had woken up, startled by Medea''s loud cry. She looked at us, dumbfounded and in utter shock, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of me with the Princess of Colchis. "Make sure no one enters," I ordered her, my expression betraying a slight twitch. The pleasure was overwhelming after so long without physical intimacy. Semiramis, her face beet red, quickly ran out of the room. Turning back to Medea, I leaned down and licked the salty tears from her cheeks, savoring the taste. "Are you ready for the pleasure now?" I asked in a sensual voice. "Hmm??... fuck me... S.. Samael." That was all I needed to hear. I thrust my hips once more, and Medea let out a mix of pain and pleasure. "Ugnnnn!! Ouch!" Medea grunted, her voice filled with pain. But this was necessary to get her used to it. I started thrusting slowly at first, giving her time to adjust. After a minute, her expression changed, turning to one of pure lust. "Ahnnn!??" Her first pleasured moan was the signal I had been waiting for, and I picked up the pace. "Your body feels so good, Medea!" Her newly non-virgin hole was still very tight, like someone drinking for the first time; her pussy craved more of my dick, squeezing it with desperate need. "Ahnnn??! Yesss! Hmmmn!" Chapter 105: Medea (4) * "Ahhhh??! Samael, more, please!" Medea''s moans rang loudly in my room. I obliged, picking up the pace, my hips slamming into hers with increasing force. Her moans turned into screams of pleasure, her sexy body trembling with each thrust. "Fuck, Medea, you feel so good," I grunted, my hands gripping her hips tightly. I pulled her legs over my shoulders, changing the angle of my thrusts, driving deeper into her. Her back arched off the bed, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Ahnnn??! Yes! Samael, fuck me harder??!" she cried out, her body shaking with pleasure. I obliged, slamming into her with all my strength, my cock pounding into her relentlessly. Her moans grew louder, filled with unbridled lust and desperation. The lewd squelching sounds as my thighs slapped against her butts kept ringing like music. "Haaaa??! Yessss??! Fuck, Samael!" she screamed, her body clenching around me as she came again. I didn''t stop, continuing to thrust into her, driving her higher and higher. Her body was a sight to behold, glistening with sweat, her breathing ragged, as she rode wave after wave of pleasure. I flipped her over, pulling her up onto her hands and knees, positioning myself behind her. I slammed into her again, my cock driving deep into her pussy. Her screams of pleasure echoed off the walls, her body rocking with each thrust. "Oh god, yes! Pleeeease??! Harder! Fuck me harder!" she begged, her voice raw with desire. I grabbed her hips, pounding into her with all my might, my balls slapping against her with each thrust. Her moans were a symphony of pleasure, urging me on, driving me wild with lust. "You like that, Medea? You like being fucked hard?" I growled, my voice filled with dominance. "HAAAN!!" She screamed, her body shaking with pleasure. I spanked her ass, leaving a red mark on her skin, as I continued to pound into her. Her screams grew louder, her body rocking with each thrust, her pussy clenching around my cock. "Ahhh! Samael, I''m going to cum again!" she cried out, her body trembling. "Do it then!" "AHNNNN??????!!!" Her body tensed, her breathing stopping for a moment, before she let out a scream of pure ecstasy. Her pussy clenched around me, milking my cock, as she came hard, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. I didn''t stop, continuing to thrust into her, driving her pleasure higher and higher. Her screams filled the room, her body rocking with each thrust, her pussy slick with her juices. I pulled out of her, flipping her onto her back again. I spread her legs wide, positioning myself at her entrance once more. I slammed into her, my cock driving deep into her pussy, as her moans filled the sex smelling room. Medea''s eyes were filled with determination as she began to bob her head, her tongue swirling around my tip. "Sluuurp!" Her movements were hesitant at first, but she quickly found a rhythm, her lips sliding smoothly up and down my shaft. I groaned, the sensation of her warm mouth around me sending waves of pleasure through my body. I placed a hand on her head, guiding her movements, urging her to take me deeper. Medea responded eagerly, her eyes locked onto mine as she worked to please me. "Yeah good...," I murmured, my fingers tangling in her sweaty hair. "Just like that." Medea''s mouth was incredible, her tongue working magic as she sucked and licked, her lips creating a delicious friction. She was a quick learner, her eagerness to please shining through in every movement. I felt the pressure building within me, my climax approaching rapidly. "I''m close, Medea," I warned, my voice strained. "Keep going." "Sluuuurp??! Hmfff! Gluuurgh??! Schluupp??" She redoubled her efforts, her mouth moving faster, her tongue flicking against the sensitive underside of my cock. I could feel her saliva mixing with the remnants of our earlier passion, making everything slick and wet. I groaned as finally all my semen built up after I had fucked her this thoroughly. "Hmmnnfff!!" With a final thrust, I came, my seed spilling into her mouth. Medea didn''t falter, her lips sealed tightly around me as she swallowed every drop. I held my hand on her head as I tilted my head back. A ton of my semen spurt out in several ropes hitting the back of Medea''s throat. Medea''s eyes turned teary, her mouth taking the shape of my dick as I deepthroated her. After I climaxed entirely inside her mouth, I pulled out my cock. "GUUUH!" Medea started coughing but I quickly closed her mouth. "Drink everything, Medea. All my semen belongs to you. Drink every single drop," I said with a smile. Medea looked up at me tearfully as she nodded her head. "GULP!" Seeing that I smiled satisfied. "Good job, Medea," I said, panting heavily. "You did well." Medea smiled, licking her lips. "Haaaaa??...Thank you, my lord." Chapter 106: The Golden Fleece (1) After forcibly taking Medea''s purity, I allowed her to rest for a while before discreetly sending her back to her room. It was imperative that no one knew she had visited me tonight. The invaluable information Medea provided about defeating the Dragon was crucial, and her unwavering loyalty was now mine. She had swiftly chosen to follow me, showing no concern for her father, the King. Her sole desire was to be with me, and she had fallen head over heels in a remarkably short span of time. Medea''s devotion was profound; I was confident she would never betray me. Instead, her loyalty was so intense that she would willingly kill anyone for my sake. The next morning, I awoke to find Semiramis already up. Her restless demeanor suggested a poor night''s sleep. "Lord Commander... may I ask something?" she inquired hesitantly. "You may," I replied, slipping into my clothes. "How... how did you get the Princess... hum..." "In my bed and how I took her? If you wanted details, you should have stayed and watched," I replied, my tone dismissive. "It''s not that! I just can''t believe it! If the King learns about this..." "By the time he finds out, it will already be too late. We will be far away," I assured her, my voice filled with contempt. The King should already be grateful that I am wasting my precious time on his ridiculous challenge or whatever nonsense it is. As we stepped out, we were immediately met by a group of knights. "The King ordered us to take you to the Golden Fleece," one of them announced. We followed them, soon meeting the other four. They were heavily armed, clearly apprehensive about the threat guarding the Golden Fleece. They appeared well-prepared for the upcoming confrontation. Heracles looked at me with a stern expression. "I tried to arrange a deal, and you refused. You can only blame yourself for what is about to happen." "I will take both the Golden Fleece and Medea, and you will be left with nothing but tears," Jason added, his eyes filled with determination. I observed them for a moment before turning away, dismissing them entirely. I was disappointed. Were these the great heroes of Greek myths I had heard so much about on Earth? Of course, myths often exaggerated their characters for the sake of the story and to increase their fame, but I had still expected more. We walked for about half an hour until we reached a cliff, protected by imposing gates. "We cannot accompany you beyond this point," the soldiers declared before turning back, leaving us at the cliff''s edge. "Now, it''s getting exciting," Jason grinned, gripping his sword tightly. "Let''s be careful," Heracles cautioned, his voice steady. "Cover me!" Heracles shouted, cracking his knuckles before leaping high toward the dragon. BADOOOM! With a single punch, Heracles sent the dragon crashing against the wall. But as he landed, he groaned in pain, his right fist heavily bruised and red. "The scales are incredibly strong. If even Heracles'' fists can''t penetrate them, how can we defeat it?" Orpheus remarked, concern evident in his voice. "With swords, of course!" Jason laughed, kicking off the ground with inhuman speed. He reached the dragon and brought his sword down with a mighty swing. The shockwave reverberated through the cave, powerful enough to blast away even the strongest opponents. Following Jason''s attack, a rain of arrows shot toward the dragon''s face. Atalanta, with her bow, fired arrow after arrow at a frightening speed, each one striking the dragon''s body powerfully. Yet... "Graaaah!" The dragon roared even more ferociously, swinging its massive tail toward Jason. "Shit!" Jason brought his sword up to shield himself, but it shattered upon impact, and he was sent crashing to the ground. "Jason!" Orpheus rushed to his side, likely to heal him. "Heracles!" "I know!" Heracles clenched his fists, and the ground rumbled beneath him. His fists glowed bright red, and the very air around them trembled. "Fists of the Goddess!" Heracles shouted, swinging his fists with immense power. BADOOOOOM! The dragon was knocked back, roaring in pain. Some of its scales showed faint cracks, but the damage was minimal. "How is that possible?" Heracles was shocked. He wasn''t the only one. His fists indeed strong enough to destroy even mountains but it barely scratched the dragon. "Because you are weak," I replied, stepping forward. It was time to end this embarrassing display. Chapter 107: The Golden Fleece (2) I walked past Heracles and Atalanta, my eyes fixed on the formidable golden dragon before us. Its sheer power had overwhelmed even these heroes, blessed by the Gods, and logic dictated that it should surpass my own strength as well. Under ordinary circumstances, defeating such a creature would have been beyond my capability. But fate had granted me an unexpected advantage¡ªMedea. Fucking her didn''t only give pleasure and her loyalty. I drew a long, black sword, feeling the surge of darkness emanate from my very core, enveloping my body in a tangible shroud of power. "Darkness magic..." Atalanta muttered in shock, her voice barely audible over the chaotic sounds of battle. "I''ve seen darkness magic before, but his... it''s so dense," Heracles remarked, his tone edged with both awe and concern. I had no interest in their observations. What did they know of the true nature of my power? Ignoring them, I advanced slowly, my steps gaining momentum until I burst forward, kicking off the ground with a powerful leap. A trail of darkness followed my ascent, and the golden dragon''s eyes narrowed upon seeing me. Its gaze was a mix of recognition and wariness. "A true dragon," I smirked, unable to suppress my excitement. It was my first encounter with such a mythological creature, a testament to the fantastical nature of this world. With a resounding crash, I brought my sword down, unleashing a wave of darkness that struck the dragon''s massive body head-on. "Grahaahaha!" The dragon roared in agony, its colossal form slamming into the rocky wall behind it. My attack had failed to leave a mark on its impenetrable scales, but that was not the essence of darkness. Darkness magic was insidious, designed to inflict internal wounds rather than external ones. This was why practitioners of darkness were often seen as harbingers of evil. The golden dragon shook itself, dislodging debris from the cave walls, before turning its fierce glare upon me. Flames began to dance in its nostrils, and it opened its cavernous maw, the glow of a fiery breath building within. I could not afford to hold back against a creature crafted by the Gods themselves. "Celestial Rank Magic," I intoned, leveling my sword at the dragon. With a deafening roar, the dragon released its inferno. "Black Mirror." I summoned a swirling vortex of darkness in front of me, its depths pulsing with an ominous, inky blackness. When the dragon''s burning breath collided with my Black Mirror, the impact was tremendous, sending shockwaves through the air and pushing me back slightly. Resisting the fiery onslaught, I called forth more darkness, fortifying the barrier against the relentless assault. The dragon''s breath battered against my shield, trying to pierce through the void. With teeth gritted in determination, I swung my sword with all my might. BADOOOOM! The burning breath split into two, tearing through the space behind me, but leaving me unharmed. Exhaling a tense breath, I surged forward, closing the distance between myself and the dragon. Reaching into my cloak, I pulled out a vial crafted by Medea herself, its contents shimmering with a sinister gleam. I coated my sword with the liquid, the blade hissing as it absorbed the potent poison. The dragon lunged at me with its massive claws, but I wove through them with agility, evading each strike. Leaping onto its arm, I used the momentum to vault onto its head. Grasping its horns for stability, I plunged my sword deep into the dragon''s skull. "GRAAAH!" "GRAAHAHH!" The entire cave rumbled, threatening to collapse as the golden dragon emerged from the darkness, its wings unfurling majestically. "He failed! I knew it!" Jason grinned triumphantly. "No... look," Heracles said, his face a mask of shock as he pointed at the dragon''s back. There, standing resolute with his black sword, was Samael. He didn''t spare the onlookers a single glance. At Samael''s call, Semiramis, who had been speechless until now, quickly shook herself out of her stupor and joined him on the dragon''s head. Jason''s face contorted with disbelief when he noticed the golden fleece draped around the dragon''s horns. "WHAT THE HELL?!" BADOOOOM! Light poured out as the golden dragon ascended into the sky. "Let''s follow them!" Jason and the others leaped out of the cave, gaining a clear view of the scene below. The golden dragon soared above Colchis, its wings casting a vast shadow over the land. "What is he doing?" Orpheus asked, but no one had an answer. Samael''s cold, golden eye glared down at the castle below. "Burn it down." "GRAAAAAH!" The dragon''s burning breath unleashed at frightening speed, striking the castle with devastating force. The walls melted and crumbled, and the structure was obliterated in a fiery inferno that lasted a full minute. Silence fell once more as the flames subsided, leaving only ruins in their wake. Samael turned toward his companions, his gaze sending chills down their spines. But his eyes were fixed beyond them. A girl stood there, her cheeks flushed, wearing a black robe with a hood that obscured her features. Slowly, she lowered her hood. Jason gasped. It was Medea, the Princess of Colchis. She looked up at Samael, her eyes wide and adoring. "Lord Samael..." she murmured, clearly enamored. Samael extended his hand, and a tendril of darkness sprouted forth, lifting Medea until she stood beside him on the dragon''s back. At Samael''s command, the golden dragon soared into the sky, its wings sending tremors through the heavens. Jason, Heracles, Atalanta, and Orpheus could only stand there, stunned and speechless. Chapter 108: The Heroes of Kastoria The Kastoria Kingdom, a renowned realm within the vast expanse of the Holy Continent, proudly stood as a beacon of prosperity and resilience. Nestled precariously close to the foreboding Demon Kingdom of Tenebria, Kastoria had, for centuries, fortified itself against relentless demon incursions. Its reputation was one of enduring strength and unwavering courage, a testament to its people''s tenacity and the divine favor of the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu. Despite the constant threat posed by its nefarious neighbor, the kingdom thrived, its citizens growing accustomed to the demonic presence that loomed just beyond their borders. This familiarity bred a unique fearlessness, setting Kastoria apart from other realms that quaked at the mere mention of demons. Blessed by the radiant Amaterasu, the kingdom''s spirit remained unbroken, a shining example of divine protection and mortal resolve. A year prior, the kingdom''s fortunes took a remarkable turn. With Amaterasu''s blessing, the legendary Moon Princess Kaguya summoned a group of Heroes. Unlike a typical princess, Kaguya was more akin to a celestial envoy, a divine messenger sent by Amaterasu to guide and support these summoned saviors. Her presence was a tangible link to the divine, an assurance of the gods'' favor upon Kastoria. The summoned Heroes, originating from a distant land called Japan, quickly adapted to their new roles. Far from being disoriented by their abrupt transition, they embraced their destiny with enthusiasm. Their rapid progress and growing strength were clear indications of the potent blessings they received. This was no mere coincidence; their homeland had a storied tradition of heroic summons, and they welcomed the call to arms with an almost predestined readiness. Within the grand confines of Kastoria''s palace, the very hall where the Heroes had first materialized stood a figure of ethereal beauty and grace. Kaguya, the Moon Princess, possessed an otherworldly allure. Her jet-black hair cascaded down to her waist, a striking contrast to her alabaster skin. Clad in a pristine kimono-like dress, her serene countenance and pure white eyes exuded an aura of calm and divine authority. She gazed at the statue of Amaterasu with a contemplative, neutral expression, lost in silent communion with her goddess. Her reverie was interrupted by the slow creaking of the hall''s massive doors. A guard''s respectful voice echoed through the chamber, "Lady Kaguya, the Heroes are here." The sound of numerous footsteps followed, heralding the arrival of the summoned saviors. A tall, robust young man with distinctly Japanese features stepped forward, his grin brimming with confidence. "It''s finally time, huh?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with eager anticipation. The two girls turned, their grumbles stifled into silence. Before them stood two stunningly beautiful twins, the very embodiment of perfect Japanese beauty. The one who had spoken had her jet-black hair tied in a side ponytail, her attire resembling a kimono top paired with a knee-length skirt. Her eyes were such a deep brown they appeared almost black. This was Arima Ayaka. Next to her, silently exuding a calm and cold yet serene aura, was her twin sister, Akane. With long dark hair tied with a black ribbon, she wore an expression of composed tranquility, enhancing her already striking features. Unlike Ayaka, Akane was clad in a black kimono, her legs fully covered in black pantyhose. Both sisters had katana hanging from their waists, and both possessed SS rank skills. "Would you stop bullying my friends, Ayaka-san?" Rena asked, her smile not reaching her eyes. There was a palpable tension between her and Ayaka, a mutual disdain rooted in their equality in beauty and intelligence. Though Rena held an S-Rank skill, it paled slightly in comparison to Ayaka''s SS Skill, a fact that pricked at Rena''s pride. Ayaka''s dark eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her composure. "We''re not here to coddle each other, Rena-san. If you can''t handle a bit of honesty, perhaps you should reconsider your place among us." Rena''s friends shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two with nervous expressions. Alongside Rena and Yumiko, they were considered the four greatest beauties of their class. Their allure was so captivating that they were frequently wooed by the nobles of Kastoria, yet none had succeeded in winning their hearts. Despite their exceptional beauty, it seemed to diminish in the presence of the figure before them. "Thank you for coming early," Kaguya said, turning to face them. All the males in the room swallowed nervously. They had often seen Kaguya and her transcendent beauty, yet every encounter left them awestruck, their admiration mingled with a touch of intimidation. She was exactly as they had imagined the Princess Kaguya from their world, her ethereal presence both enchanting and overwhelming. "Lady Kaguya," Ryuuki stepped forward, his voice steady. "We are all ready to face the demons." "I hope so, my Heroes," Kaguya responded with a small, graceful smile that made all the boys'' hearts skip a beat, much to Yumiko''s annoyance. "But the demons will not be your main enemies," Kaguya continued, shaking her head slightly. "The Hero of Darkness." Chapter 109: The Heroes of Kastoria (2) "The Hero of Darkness." When Kaguya uttered these words, a wave of confusion swept through the Heroes of Kastoria. However, a few faces bore different expressions. Ryuuki, Akane, and Ayaka, who had done their homework, seemed more composed. "He''s the Hero summoned by the Kingdom of Tenebria, likely by the Demon King," Kaguya explained. "A Hero? You mean he''s alone? He didn''t arrive with his class like us?" Yumiko asked, surprised. It wasn''t a rule that all summoned Heroes must be classmates, but it had been the case for the Empire of Light and other kingdoms they had heard of. "No. They summoned only one Hero, but I should warn you to be extremely wary of him," Kaguya said seriously. "What? He''s alone, and we should be scared?!" Yusuke laughed, crossing his arms behind his head. "It''s precisely because he is the only Hero summoned by Tenebria that we should be cautious. Rumors suggest he awakened Darkness Magic, an extremely rare variant resembling the Demon King''s own," Kaguya elaborated. "Darkness Magic? Is that why you call him the Hero of Darkness? I see..." Kazuto nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Hmph! It''s too show-off a title! That guy must be a weakling!" Yusuke sneered. "I personally find it a cool name," Ryuuki laughed before turning to Kaguya. "Lady Kaguya, since he is a summoned Hero, he is likely from Earth like us..." Kaguya knew where Ryuuki was going. She had known him for a year and recognized his aversion to killing whenever possible. He believed the Hero of Darkness could be reasoned with, possibly even brought to their side as a fellow Earthling. Someone from the peaceful world of Earth, who, like them, had likely never killed anyone until recently. Ryuuki was certain the Hero of Darkness couldn''t have committed murder, especially since he was summoned only a week ago. "I will leave the judgment to you, Ryuuki-sama," Kaguya said solemnly, to which Ryuuki sighed in relief. Of course, this wasn''t Kaguya''s true wish. Like her master, Amaterasu, she desired the Hero of Darkness''s death but couldn''t force the issue with the Heroes she had fostered excellent relations with. Nonetheless, she was confident they would change their minds about him in time. No one who awakens Darkness Magic is a good person, she thought grimly. "Yes! Please beat those vile Demons, Ryuuki-sama!" Haruka pleaded, her puppy eyes and earnest expression tugging at Ryuuki''s heart. "Yes, don''t worry, Princess," Ryuuki nodded. "Will this fight against Demons ever end?" Rena complained. Kaguya, hearing her, spoke up. "I can understand the Heroes'' anger, but don''t worry. If Tenebria summoned the Hero of Darkness, it is likely the Demon King is in a weakened state. He has fought countless summoned Heroes over the years, so of course, he couldn''t have come out unscathed. He is undoubtedly in a weak state. Therefore, they summoned a Hero to support them. But if you manage to kill¡ªdefeat the Hero of Darkness, it will mark the beginning of the end for Tenebria. Their time will be limited, and within a year, we will be able to defeat Tenebria." "What, we just have to kill that Hero of Darkness in the end? Let''s go already!" Yusuke shouted, already heading out. "Something doesn''t seem right, onee-chan. They summoned a single Hero, after all," Ayaka mumbled to her elder sister, Akane. Akane stayed silent for a moment before responding. "Let''s try to end it all here." ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã From the gods'' realm, Amaterasu stood watching the unfolding scene below. A decisive battle was about to take place. "I am so excited!" Ishtar exclaimed, her pink eyes glowing with anticipation. "I wonder who will win?" Hermes mused with a curious smile. "What a stupid question. Amaterasu''s Heroes, obviously," Hera said, surprisingly present as well. Amaterasu did her best to focus, but it seemed impossible with the other three intruding to also watch the battle against the Demons and the Hero of Darkness. Chapter 110: Battle Against the Heroes of Kastoria (1) On the Western Border of Tenebria In the western borderlands of the Demonic Kingdom of Tenebria, the air was thick with tension. The ominous presence of several demonic armies, clad in their imposing black armor, created a foreboding atmosphere. Each soldier stood with a stern look, eyes focused and alert. Leading this formidable defense was Kratos, the Vice Commander of all the demonic armies. His reputation as the strongest knight in Tenebria preceded him, and his presence on the battlefield was both surprising and necessary. Beside him stood Megara, the commander of the third division. The pair represented the kingdom''s hope against the looming threat from the Kingdom of Kastoria. The remaining commanders and strong knights stayed back in the capital, ever-vigilant against the possibility of surprise attacks from the numerous countries that despised Tenebria. Their main duty was to protect the two princesses of the kingdom, a task of utmost importance. Kratos, a towering figure of brute strength and unwavering determination, scanned the horizon with a steely gaze. The impending battle was no ordinary conflict¡ªit involved the Heroes of Kastoria. Although Kratos had never faced these heroes personally, the stories from his fellow knights and various testimonies painted a clear picture of their dangerous prowess. The Demon King himself had once underestimated the heroes, nearly paying with his life twice against the Heroes of the Empire of Light. Kratos had no intention of repeating that mistake. He was resolved to kill any hero who dared to threaten them. "Commander Kratos." Megara''s voice broke the silence. She approached, her red armor gleaming despite the overcast sky. Although petite compared to the imposing Kratos, Megara possessed a striking beauty. Her red hair was tied in a ponytail, revealing a glimpse of her small, tender white neck. Her armor concealed her figure, including her small breasts she was complexing over. "Megara," Kratos acknowledged her with a nod, his eyes still fixed on the assembling armies. More than five thousand demons stood ready to intercept the heroes. "Do you think it will be enough?" Megara asked, her voice tinged with concern. Kratos turned his intense gaze toward her, considering her question. "What do you think, personally, Megara? You''ve fought one of them, if I''m not mistaken?" Megara''s eyes narrowed slightly as she recalled the encounter. "Yes. It was an annoying girl who seemed to care more about her looks than the fight, but she was exceptionally strong. I was still stronger then, but that was two months ago. Who knows how much stronger she has become since then? And from what I''ve heard, there are even stronger heroes with her." "Don''t worry. We should be enough to face the Heroes of Kastoria," Kratos reassured her. He wasn''t considered Tenebria''s mighty weapon for nothing. Even before Samael, the other countries struggled without taking risks because of the Demon King and Kratos. Their presence made enemies wary, and now, with the added strength of Samael, the demonic forces felt a renewed confidence. "Lord Kratos!" A demon soldier suddenly appeared, kneeling with a pale face. His breath came in short, panicked gasps as he delivered his urgent news. "The Heroes of Kastoria are here! Just a few miles away. They''re rushing towards us in a flying ship!" "What?!" Kratos''s eyes widened in shock. How had they only noticed this now? Did the heroes possess something that rendered their vessels invisible? "Tell everyone to ready themselves immediately! Megara, you too!" Kratos ordered, his voice commanding and urgent. "Yes!" Megara swiftly departed to relay the orders to her division, her red armor gleaming as she moved. The soldier''s face grew even paler. "Lord Kratos! Th-they''re above us! In the sky!" Kratos looked up, his heart pounding. Above them, a massive flying ship descended, its shadow casting an ominous pall over the demonic forces. On the deck, several figures stood, their presence unmistakable. "The Heroes of Kastoria! Brace yourselves!" Kratos bellowed, raising his long sword toward the ship. A giant red magic circle materialized in the air. "Red Shield!" BADOOOOM! Chapter 111: Battle Against the Heroes of Kastoria (2) "The Heroes of Kastoria! Brace yourselves!" Kratos bellowed, raising his long sword toward the ship. A giant red magic circle materialized in the air. "Red Shield!" BADOOOOM! The flying ship collided with the shield, sending shockwaves through the sky. The clash of forces echoed like thunder, the red shield holding against the ship''s impact but quivering under the immense strain. Kratos stood firm, his eyes blazing with determination. The air around him crackled with energy as the shield absorbed the impact. The heroes on the ship braced themselves, the collision momentarily halting their advance. On the deck of the ship, Kratos could see the determined faces of the heroes, their eyes locked on the demonic forces below. They were a formidable sight, each one exuding an aura of power and resolve. "Hold the line!" Kratos commanded, his voice a rallying cry to his troops. "We will not falter!" Megara returned, her division swiftly moving into position. The demons formed ranks, their weapons drawn, and their eyes fixed on the descending ship. The tension was palpable, every second stretching into an eternity as they awaited the next move. The first to leap down was a striking young man with tousled brown hair. Although his attire wasn''t particularly eye-catching, his presence was undeniably commanding, exuding a powerful aura that made it impossible to ignore him. "He''s just a kid..." one of the demons mumbled, disbelief etched on his face. "They''re all... all the heroes are kids..." another demon muttered, his eyes scanning the assembly of heroes standing alongside Ryuuki. "Don''t look at their faces!" Megara''s voice rang out sharply, drawing the demons'' attention back to her. "They may look very young, and many of you might have children their age, but do not underestimate them. These are the Heroes of Kastoria! Show no hesitation against them! Kill them as soon as you have the opportunity! They are the ones attacking us!" Her words, firm and resolute, cut through the murmurs and doubts among the demons. She was right. Despite their youthful appearances, these teenagers exuded a formidable presence far beyond their years. Standing at the forefront, they were few in number, but each one, starting with Ryuuki, was dangerously powerful. Kratos stepped forward, a fierce determination in his stride. Strangely, the Heroes did not immediately move to attack, as if they were waiting for something. Seizing the moment, Kratos decided to issue a final warning. After all, they were still young, and perhaps they could be swayed. "A few more steps, and you are stepping into our territory once more, Heroes of Kastoria. We, the Demons, will not be as kind as we were previously. This time, we will fight to kill. This is Tenebria!" He roared, his men echoing his defiant declaration with raised fists and a resounding cheer. But their fervor was abruptly cut short by a mocking laugh. It was Yusuke, his eyes glinting with derision. "Bunch of idiots! We''ve been beating your asses for months now, even while holding back! Yet you still lose and run away pathetically! Now beg us! Beg us, and maybe we won''t kill you painfully!" At Yusuke''s taunting words, several of his classmates joined in laughter. The demons glared at them with murderous intent, memories of their fallen comrades fueling their rage. They weren''t fighting for conquest but for their homeland and their people. "YES!!" the chorus of voices responded, and the heroes charged toward the demon army. "Let''s take down their leader first!" Ryuuki shouted, his gaze fixed on Kratos. "Try it, kid," Kratos replied with a wild smirk, punching out his fist and sending a massive shockwave of fire toward the heroes. Yusuke, in full view, quickly swung his sword to parry the attack but was slightly knocked back. "That bastard!" Yusuke growled, glaring at Kratos. "Let''s do it together; otherwise, we can''t beat him!" Yusuke wasn''t a glory hunter; he cared deeply for his classmates. He knew eliminating Kratos quickly was crucial since he was dangerous and could truly kill his weaker comrades. "You will understand who the strongest warrior of Tenebria is quickly," Kratos smiled, drawing out his large sword. He intercepted Ryuuki''s sword, but Ryuuki wasn''t finished. "SSS Skill! Twin Sword Kami!" Ryuuki shouted, summoning another sword and swinging again. Kratos slid back several meters, his hand slightly numb from the force. ''As expected, they are dangerous,'' Kratos acknowledged internally. "SS Skill! Spear of the Kami!" Yumiko appeared from behind, swinging her spear in an attempt to pierce Kratos'' head. But Kratos caught her spear, and Yumiko glared, channeling even more mana into her attack. It was becoming difficult for Kratos to handle both of them, yet he managed, shocking everyone. "No way, he parried Ryuuki-kun''s attack but also Yumiko-san''s too!" Their classmates were in disbelief; until now, all of Ryuuki''s attacks had been one-shot victories. "Take that bastard!" Yusuke appeared from the side, swinging his sword without regard for Ryuuki''s and Yumiko''s presence. "Six Star Magic! Fire Burst!" Kratos shouted, and his body emitted a red heat before exploding. Ryuuki, Yumiko, and Yusuke were all flung back but managed to remain unscathed at the last moment, thanks to Kazuto. "No need to thank me," Kazuto said, adjusting his glasses. His role was to protect all his classmates with his Shields of Kami. Kratos emerged from the smoke with a serious gaze, still able to handle the three of them. ''If those two join, I won''t hold long...'' he thought, his eyes darting to the two dark-haired twins. Ayaka and Akane were extremely fast, their katanas cutting through demons mercilessly. One had a serious expression, while the other wore a cold one. Fortunately, Megara intercepted their attacks, fighting against both of them. But Kratos had a bad premonition. ''Hold it a bit longer, Megara.'' But his thoughts went also toward someone else despite him. ''Will you really come or will you betray your words, Samael?'' Chapter 112: Battle Against the Heroes of Kastoria (3) The battle between the Demons and the Heroes of Kastoria had been raging for thirty minutes, and the intensity only continued to escalate. The clash of steel and magic filled the air, the ground trembling beneath the weight of countless footfalls and the roar of unleashed power. The battlefield was a chaotic tapestry of blazing spells, clashing swords, and the cries of warriors on both sides. If it had been just the Heroes, the Demons might have handled them with ease, their dark magic and brute strength proving more than enough. But the Kingdom of Kastoria had sent not just its chosen Heroes but also its well-trained armies to support and shield them, aware of how vital these champions were. The Heroes were more than just warriors; they were symbols of Kastoria''s strength and hope, their victories the heartbeats of the nation. Despite their best efforts, the Demons found themselves struggling against the combined might of these forces. They fought valiantly, their ferocity and dark power clashing against the disciplined ranks of Kastoria''s soldiers. But even among the Heroes, there were those whose strength outstripped the rest, and the Demons couldn''t hold them back. One such Hero was Yanagi Rena. Rena moved through the battlefield with a grace that belied the chaos around her, her expression one of mild boredom rather than the fierce determination of her comrades. She wasn''t taking the fight seriously at all, more concerned with the state of her appearance than the danger she faced. Her hands occasionally brushed against her hair, ensuring it remained in place, her gaze flickering to her reflection in a blade to check for any imperfections in her unblemished skin. Yet, despite this apparent distraction, she dispatched the Demons around her with ease, barely exerting herself. Rena possessed an S-rank skill known as **Yokai Princess**. Around her floated three ethereal creatures, their forms shifting between the tangible and the mystical, each embodying a different aspect of her power. One acted as her shield, effortlessly deflecting the Demons'' vicious attacks, another lashed out at any who dared approach, while the third kept vigilant watch, anticipating any potential threats. These yokai were more than just protectors; they were devoted to her with a fierce loyalty that bordered on obsession. "I hope Rena-sama will praise me after this," one whispered, its voice a blend of reverence and longing. "I just want a pat," murmured another, its gaze never straying from Rena. "I want Rena-sama to become my wife," the third confessed, its voice tinged with a quiet yearning. Their calm, serene appearances masked a lethal readiness. Should Rena''s life be threatened, their affection would transform into a deadly wrath, unleashing power that few could withstand. Rena, however, seemed utterly indifferent to the battle''s urgency. She yawned delicately, her fingers brushing over her lips as she cast a disinterested glance toward the other Heroes engaged in fierce combat. Kratos, locked in a brutal struggle, and the twins, whose synchronization was unmatched, drew little more than a fleeting look of disdain. Her gaze lingered on the twins, particularly Ayaka, and a mocking smile curled on her lips. "I could handle that girl all on my own, yet you''re struggling, Ayaka?" she mused aloud, her tone dripping with condescension. At first, Rena had felt nothing toward Ayaka. But as time passed, Ayaka''s frequent complaints about Rena''s behavior at school, coupled with the inevitable comparisons drawn between their beauty and grades, had sparked an unspoken rivalry between them. For Rena, who prided herself on being the most admired, the thought that Ayaka could be considered her equal was intolerable. She now harbored a deep dislike for Ayaka, a disdain that went beyond mere rivalry. It was a petty, almost childish wish¡ªto see Ayaka admit defeat, to acknowledge Rena''s superiority. In the end, it was the vain desire of a high school beauty who couldn''t bear the thought of someone else standing in her spotlight. "Seven Stars Magic!" Megara shouted, panic setting in as her horns glowed a fiery red, and demonic wings erupted from her back. She channeled her highest form of magic, desperate to protect herself. But it was too late. "Haaargh!" Megara let out a pained cry as Akane''s blade struck her, a deep gash opening across her chest. Blood sprayed from the wound, staining the ground beneath her. If not for her last-second invocation of her true magic and the summoning of her wings, she might have been cleaved in two. Realizing how close she had come to death, Megara glared at Akane with a mix of fear and fury. Ayaka and Akane, standing side by side, were undeniably powerful¡ªmore dangerous than she had anticipated. They had grown significantly stronger in just a few months, their skills now rivaling her own. But she also noticed that the intense battle had taken its toll on them; their breaths were heavy, their movements slightly sluggish. They had pushed themselves to the limit, just as she had. Megara clenched her fist, determination burning in her eyes. She prepared to unleash another powerful spell, hoping to turn the tide. But before she could act, something struck her from behind with tremendous force. "What...?" The word barely escaped her lips as she staggered forward, her vision blurring. Caught completely off guard, Megara fell to her knees, her strength failing her. The world spun around her as she collapsed onto the ground, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Ayaka stared in shock, trying to process the sudden turn of events. But it didn''t take her long to realize what had occurred. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned her gaze toward the one responsible. "Rena..." Rena stood a short distance away, her expression indifferent as she looked down at Megara''s prone form. "I saved your life. Be grateful." Ayaka''s hands tightened around her sword, frustration and anger boiling within her. But before she could respond, a voice cut through the chaos. "Megara!" Kratos'' voice bellowed across the battlefield as he saw his companion lying defeated on the ground. His own condition was dire; he was battered and bloodied, barely holding on as he fought against overwhelming odds. Ayaka quickly scanned the battlefield, her eyes meeting those of her comrades¡ªRyuuki, Yusuke, Yumiko, and Kazuto. They were all exhausted, their faces drenched in sweat, yet they continued to fight with every ounce of strength they had. It was their relentless effort that had driven Kratos to this point. "Let''s finish this. It''s our chance, sister!" Ayaka called out to Akane, who nodded in agreement, her dark eyes burning with resolve. Together, the Arima twins launched a coordinated assault on Kratos. Their swords sliced through the air with precision, each strike aimed to bring the giant warrior down. Kratos tried to defend himself, raising his arms to block their attacks, but the force of their blades tore through his defenses, leaving deep gashes that bled profusely. Despite his wounds, Kratos managed to grab Megara''s unconscious body and retreat, pulling her away from the immediate danger. Now, all the remaining powerful Heroes turned their focus solely on Kratos, the last formidable Demon standing. The rest of the demonic forces were preoccupied with the relentless knights of Kastoria, unable to come to their leader''s aid. Kratos felt the weight of inevitability press down on him. His vision blurred, his body aching with the toll of the battle. ''It seems my time has come...'' he thought, closing his eyes in resignation. -GRAAAAH!!! But before anyone could land the final blow, a terrifying roar echoed through the sky, shaking the battlefield to its core. Chapter 113: The Hero of Darkness has Arrived A deafening roar ripped through the sky, shaking the very earth beneath their feet. The once vibrant battlefield, where the forces of Kastoria clashed with the relentless Demons, suddenly fell into an eerie silence. The sky, a brilliant canvas of azure, seemed to pulse with tension, while the sun blazed overhead, casting sharp, unforgiving shadows on the ground. Even the air itself seemed to quiver, as if in anticipation of something monumental. "GRAAAAH!!!" The terrifying sound echoed once more, reverberating through the hearts of those below. Every warrior, regardless of their allegiance, froze in place, their weapons lowered as their eyes turned skyward. The air was thick with dread, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. "Look there!" A voice rang out, breaking the stillness. All heads turned as one, their gazes fixed on a distant speck in the sky. At first, it was nothing more than a dark dot, barely discernible against the brightness of the heavens. But as the seconds ticked by, the dot grew larger, hurtling toward them with terrifying speed. "Raise your guards! Everyone, retreat back!" Kratos''s voice cut through the panic like a blade, sharp and commanding. "Fall back, now!" Ryuuki echoed, urgency lacing his words as he took a defensive stance. What was once a distant blur was now unmistakable. A dragon¡ªno, a true dragon¡ªwas bearing down on them. Its scales gleamed like polished gold, reflecting the sunlight in blinding bursts. The creature''s roar, both magnificent and terrifying, reverberated through the air as it sliced through the sky with a grace that belied its massive size. "K-Kratos..." A weak, trembling voice broke through his focus. Kratos glanced down at Megara, who was leaning heavily on his shoulder. Her eyes, clouded with pain and exhaustion, were not fixed on the dragon itself but on something¡ªor someone¡ªatop it. Following her gaze, Kratos felt his breath catch in his throat. Three figures were visible on the dragon''s back, their forms becoming clearer with each passing moment. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the first figure¡ªSemiramis, his trusted comrade, standing tall and poised behind a man and a woman. The woman, cloaked in an ominous black robe, had her face obscured by a mask that only revealed her piercing eyes. She stood close to the man beside her. The young man was similarly masked, his right eye concealed beneath an eye patch, leaving only a single, gleaming golden eye exposed to the world. Kratos''s eyes widened in shock as recognition dawned. "He... he really came..." he muttered under his breath, a mix of disbelief and relief washing over him. How this man had managed to ally with a dragon was beyond Kratos''s comprehension, but one thing was certain¡ªthey were on his side. "OYY!! It''s a dragon, guys!!" The shout of alarm came from one of Ryuuki''s classmates, his voice cracking with fear. "A true dragon!" someone else echoed, their voice trembling. Panic began to spread among the ranks as the reality of the situation settled in. "Shouldn''t we run away?!" another cried out, the suggestion causing a ripple of uncertainty among the gathered warriors. "Ryuuki..." Yumiko''s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she looked to him for a decision. "Let''s wait," Ryuuki responded, his tone steady but cautious. "We don''t know if it''s an enemy yet. The Demons look panicked too." He failed to notice the wave of relief that washed over Kratos''s features. "Who cares if it''s a dragon!" Yusuke''s voice broke through the tension, his bravado almost reckless. He was practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of battling such a legendary creature. To him, this was an opportunity to prove his strength, to show the world that he was the strongest Hero of them all. Ayaka, Akane, and Rena, however, remained silent. Their eyes were trained on the dragon, their bodies tense and ready for anything. They knew better than to let their guard down, even for a moment. Meanwhile, the rest of their classmates cowered in fear, some even hiding behind their braver peers. Fighting Demons had been terrifying enough, but over the past year, they had grown accustomed to the horror. But a dragon¡ªa true dragon¡ªwas something entirely different, something beyond their wildest nightmares. Even the golden dragon behind him, a creature of immense strength, showed a strange mixture of respect and fear towards its master. "R-Ryuuki... that guy is dangerous..." Kazuto whispered, swallowing hard as he tore his gaze away from Nathan. The air was thick with tension as all the Heroes'' eyes fixated on Nathan, the so-called Hero of Darkness. He was their prime target, the one they had been warned about. Nathan was supposed to be an Earthling, someone summoned from another world just a week ago. But as he strode across the battlefield, he looked nothing like any Earthling they had ever seen. His hair was as dark as the blackest coal, absorbing all light around it. He wore a suit of armor that was equally pitch black, a stark contrast to the blazing sun overhead. His face was completely hidden beneath the armor, save for his eyes¡ªdark gold with an eerie vertical slit that shimmered with a predatory gleam. As Nathan moved, both the Heroes of Kastoria and their armies fell into a hushed, fearful silence. There was something about him, something that commanded attention and inspired dread in equal measure. The air grew thick with tension as they watched the Hero of Darkness advance toward Megara''s crumpled form. Nathan cast a brief, indifferent glance at Megara''s dying body. To him, her fate was of little concern¡ªwhether she lived or died made no difference to him personally. But he knew her value as an Archdemon, a vital asset in the looming battle against the Divine Knights. Letting her die now would be a waste of resources. "Heal her, Medea," Nathan commanded, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "Yes, Milord~" Medea replied, her tone syrupy sweet. Although her face was concealed beneath her robe, her mismatched eyes¡ªone blue, one red¡ªgleamed with a joy that was impossible to miss. The delight in her voice was palpable, and it wasn''t hard to imagine that her cheeks were flushed with happiness at Nathan''s request. "Who''s she?" Kratos asked, his voice thick with suspicion. There was something about Medea that set off alarm bells in his mind, an instinctive sense of danger that he couldn''t shake. Despite her seemingly innocent demeanor, he knew this woman was extremely dangerous. "She''s with us. Don''t worry," Semiramis assured him, though her voice held a note of uncertainty. She didn''t trust Medea¡ªnot entirely. But she had witnessed firsthand the depth of Medea''s devotion to Samael. The woman was utterly, hopelessly in love with him. If Samael asked her to, Medea would set the world ablaze without hesitation. There was no way she would act against his wishes. Medea approached Megara, her movements graceful and deliberate. She extended her arm over Megara''s body and began to chant in a language that was foreign and ancient, her voice a soft murmur. "Kleshi rnvuls su yeri." A dark red glow enveloped Megara, the light pulsating with an otherworldly energy. Megara groaned slightly, but the deathly pallor of her skin began to fade, replaced by a healthier flush. Kratos watched in stunned silence, unable to believe what he was seeing. "Who are you...?" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. Medea ignored him, her focus entirely on healing Megara. But her eyes, filled with longing and adoration, were not on her patient¡ªthey were fixed on the back of the man she loved with every fiber of her being. Nathan¡ªor rather, Samael¡ªwas already moving on, his attention now directed toward the Heroes of Kastoria, who stood waiting in uneasy anticipation. Kratos turned to Semiramis, silently pleading for answers. But she had none to give. What could she say? She had heard the legends, the whispers of Medea''s genius. But in the presence of Samael, Medea was something else entirely¡ªsomething terrifyingly powerful. "According to the Lord Commander," Semiramis finally said, her voice low, "she is the Greatest Dark Sorceress in the world." "What?" Kratos''s eyes darted back to Medea, whose expression was one of pure obsession, her love-struck gaze following Nathan as he walked away. Nathan, or Samael, continued his slow, deliberate approach toward the Heroes of Kastoria. Chapter 114: The Hero of Darkness Faces the Heroes of Kastoria (1) "Ryuuki... h-he''s coming..." Yumiko whispered, her voice trembling as she instinctively clutched Ryuuki''s arm. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, betraying the raw edge of fear that colored her usually calm demeanor. It wasn''t just her, though; their classmates, those less seasoned in combat or lacking in confidence, also recoiled, taking a collective step backward as if trying to distance themselves from the overwhelming presence drawing near. Even Yusuke, usually brimming with an unwavering sense of superiority¡ªwhether in the world they once knew or in this strange, new realm¡ªfound himself uncharacteristically silent. His eyes, which had often held a confident gleam, now flickered uncertainly as they avoided Samael''s gaze. Yusuke had always believed himself to be above others, endowed with strength, wealth, and the privileges those brought. He had used these gifts to assert his dominance, to trample those he deemed beneath him. But now, in the presence of Samael, he encountered something wholly unfamiliar. He fought the creeping sensation that gnawed at the edges of his mind, a feeling he refused to acknowledge as fear. "There''s no way!" he thought furiously, clenching his teeth in defiance, his glare fixed on Samael in an attempt to deny the truth of what he was experiencing. "Rena-sama! Stay back!" one of Rena''s yokai urged, their voice betraying an unusual nervousness that contrasted starkly with their usual composed demeanor. "We will protect you!" another yokai echoed, their tone equally strained, as if the words were more for their own reassurance than hers. "What are you saying, you two?" Rena responded, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion. Despite the tension in the air, she remained outwardly unperturbed, her usual composure intact. However, the urgency in her yokai''s voices did not escape her notice, and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit. "No, run away..." The final yokai, usually the one who would unhesitatingly charge into battle and kill for her without a second thought, spoke in a tone so grave and serious that it sent a chill down Rena''s spine. She turned to him, her eyes widening slightly in shock at the sight of his troubled expression¡ªsomething she had never seen before in all the time they had fought together. She had known these yokai for a year, and yet, in this moment, they were strangers to her, gripped by a fear she couldn''t comprehend. "Sister..." Ayaka''s voice broke through the tense silence, her grip tightening on the hilt of her white katana. But her hand was trembling, a faint but telling sign of the dread that had taken hold of her. "I know, Ayaka... don''t be reckless..." Akane, her twin, responded, her usually cold and emotionless expression twisted in a rare display of concern as she clutched her own katana. For the first time, both of them felt a crushing sense of inadequacy, an overwhelming certainty that they were outmatched. It felt futile even to consider fighting back. "Lord Commander!" "Lord Samael!" "Hero of Darkness!" "It can''t be just a coincidence," he mused, his thoughts a tangled web of disbelief and reluctant recognition. Years had passed since he last saw them, yet there was no mistaking who they were. Time had changed them, but it had also refined them, revealing the extraordinary beauty they had grown into¡ªbeauty that bore a striking resemblance to Aisha, yet with an aura all their own. Nathan couldn''t help but wonder if part of his affection for Aisha stemmed from a subconscious connection to these twins, a fondness that had briefly bloomed during their shared childhood. But that happiness had been shattered when their father had, in Nathan''s mind, clearly orchestrated their mother''s death. And then there was the darkness that had begun to consume Nathan himself during that time, driving a wedge between him and the only siblings he had ever cared for. ''You are a monster!'' ''Don''t approach us... please.'' The echo of Ayaka''s and Akane''s last words to him reverberated in his mind, their voices as clear and painful as if they had spoken them just moments ago. "Is Samael your name? From which world are you from?" Ryuuki''s voice cut through the memories, snapping Nathan back to the present. Nathan''s gaze shifted from the twins to Ryuuki, and then slowly swept across the entire group. He noticed something he hadn''t fully registered before¡ªthese were all Japanese students, likely from the same class, probably studying together before they were summoned here. "A Japanese class..." Nathan murmured under his breath, piecing together the likelihood that they had been brought here together in some kind of group summoning. The idea was almost absurdly ironic. Ryuuki, having caught Nathan''s murmur, latched onto it eagerly. "You''re from Earth, right?!" he asked, a broad smile spreading across his face as if this common ground was something to celebrate. Nathan''s expression twisted in disgust. How could this boy smile like that, here and now, when they were clearly on opposite sides? There was nothing to be happy about, nothing to be celebrated in this twisted reality. "Get the hell out of here," Nathan said coldly. "Eh?" Ryuuki''s smile faltered, replaced by confusion as he tried to process the abrupt hostility. Nathan''s golden eye began to glow with a dark, ominous light, his patience quickly unraveling. "Or else I''ll kill all of you." Chapter 115: The Hero of Darkness Faces the Heroes of Kastoria (2) "Get the hell out of here," Nathan said coldly. "Eh?" Ryuuki''s smile faltered, replaced by confusion as he tried to process the abrupt hostility. Nathan''s golden eye began to glow with a dark, ominous light, his patience quickly unraveling. "Or else, I''ll kill all of you." Nathan''s words hung in the air, a chilling threat that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present. His voice carried a weight that was impossible to ignore, cold and devoid of any hint of deceit. It was as if the very air around them had thickened, heavy with the promise of violence. No one doubted the sincerity of his words; there was no mirth in his eyes, no quirk of the lips that suggested a bluff. The menace in his tone was unmistakable, a declaration that left no room for doubt. For a moment, silence reigned, each person grappling with the stark reality of his threat. It wasn''t just the words that struck fear into their hearts, but the absolute certainty that Nathan would follow through without hesitation. The atmosphere was suffocating, tension mounting with every passing second. Ryuuki was the first to recover, his shock giving way to a desperate need to defuse the situation. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, trying to inject a sense of camaraderie into his words. "W... wait, we''re both from Earth. We don''t have to fight at all. We should be allies, working together to find a way back home. The Demon King is the real enemy here¡ªyou must know that?" As Ryuuki''s words filled the room, Nathan''s gaze shifted to him, scrutinizing him with an intensity that was unsettling. At first glance, Ryuuki seemed to embody the very image of a hero¡ªstrong, confident, a natural leader among his classmates. There was something familiar about him, a quality that reminded Nathan of Jason. But where Jason''s righteousness had often felt like a mask, hiding a more self-serving nature, Ryuuki''s concern seemed genuine. He wasn''t just playing the role of the good guy; he truly believed in what he was saying. Nathan found it intriguing. The ability to communicate so easily, despite their different backgrounds and languages, was something that had puzzled him since they had been summoned to this world. He knew he was speaking English, yet everyone around him understood perfectly, and when Ryuuki spoke, it sounded like English too, though with a strange undercurrent that hinted at its Japanese origins. It was as if the summoning had gifted them with a universal understanding, allowing them to bypass the barriers of language entirely. Ryuuki pressed on, his tone growing more earnest as he tried to reason with Nathan. "I think the demons have fed you a lot of lies. They are the enemies. The Demon King has terrorized and killed millions of innocent people. He''s a monster, responsible for so much suffering. The demons are the ones we need to fight." Semiramis, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, her face twisted with anger. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "That''s all in the past! We''ve sought peace countless times, begged for an end to this senseless war, but you refused to listen. You kept attacking, forcing us to defend ourselves! How many years has it been since we last invaded any of your countries? Now you''re doing to us what you accused us of doing to you!" Kazuto, still visibly shaken by Nathan''s earlier threat, adjusted his glasses awkwardly, trying to regain some semblance of composure. His voice, though less steady than Ryuuki''s, carried a note of resignation. "Unfortunately, the damage is done. You can''t expect the nations your King terrorized to simply forget everything. They hold grudges, and they have every right to." Nathan''s words reverberated through the group of demons standing behind him, their impact palpable. Semiramis, Kratos, and Megara, who had just regained their strength thanks to Medea, were visibly shaken. Even the other Demon Knights, who were hardened by countless battles, found themselves moved by what Nathan had said. His words were not merely a defense of their existence but a genuine declaration of his beliefs. Despite being human, he had spoken without bias, viewing them as equals rather than the monsters most humans believed them to be. Up until now, the demons had held Samael in high regard for his strength and leadership. But now, something deeper stirred within them. Nathan''s willingness to see them as more than just adversaries, to consider their humanity despite the differences in their origins, earned him a place not just in their minds but in their hearts as well. He wasn''t merely an ally by circumstance¡ªhe was someone who saw the world as they did, through the lens of shared experience and mutual respect. On the other side of the confrontation, Ryuuki and his classmates were equally shaken, but for entirely different reasons. They couldn''t fathom why Nathan, a fellow human from Earth, would choose to align himself with the demons. His thoughts and actions were so far removed from what they believed was right that it left them stunned. The idea that someone from their world, from their own species, could think so differently was almost incomprehensible to them. Yusuke, always quick to anger, broke the silence first. His voice was filled with rage as he glared at Nathan. "Why are we even discussing this with him? Let''s just kill him like we did with the others!" His words dripped with venom, his patience clearly worn thin. Yusuke had recovered enough from the earlier shock, and now, his frustration boiled over. Nathan wasn''t just a nuisance¡ªhe was a threat that needed to be eliminated. It was clearly a personal grudge having his pride wounded for being scared of him. "But..." Ryuuki hesitated, his conscience warring with the situation at hand. Nathan was from Earth, just like them. Was it really right to kill someone who had once been one of their own? Sensing his hesitation, Yumiko tightened her grip on Ryuuki''s arm, her voice soft but firm. "Ryuuki-kun... we don''t have a choice. He said it himself¡ªhe''s going to kill us. We can''t afford to hold back." Kazuto, usually calm and rational, nodded in agreement. "I''m with Yumiko-san, Ryuuki-kun. We have to protect ourselves." His voice carried a note of resignation, as though he didn''t want to admit what needed to be done but knew it was inevitable. Ayaka and Akane remained silent, but their expressions were unreadable. However, it was clear from their tense postures that they had already made their decision. The moment they saw Nathan standing alongside the demons, any doubt they might have had evaporated. He might have been from Earth, but in their eyes, he had betrayed them the moment he chose to ally with the enemy. A human who could so easily turn against his own kind was too dangerous to leave alive. Nathan, observing the shift in their stances, understood their intent without needing words. Their glares were filled with a murderous resolve, their hesitation gone. "So, you''re staying then?" he asked, though the question was rhetorical. He had seen the decision in their eyes. "I warned you," he continued, his voice devoid of any remaining warmth. Nathan had no desire to drag this out. In truth, he would have attacked them without a second thought under different circumstances. The only reason he had given them this brief reprieve was because of Ayaka and Akane. Despite everything, he didn''t want to harm his former stepsisters. But their classmates were another matter entirely. "Don''t regret what is about to happen." Chapter 116: The Hero of Darkness Against The Heroes of Kastoria (1) "Don''t regret what is about to happen," I said, my voice cold, as I extended my right hand with purpose. In an instant, a black sword materialized within my grasp, its presence dark and imposing. It was one of the treasured weapons of Tenebria, a blade known to strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest warriors. "Medea," I called, my tone sharp. "My lord?!" Medea responded eagerly, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as she swiftly approached me. "Do it," I ordered without hesitation. "Yes~," she replied, a satisfied smile spreading across her lips. Raising her hand with a graceful yet ominous gesture, she unleashed a dark red glow that shot upwards, quickly expanding to form a barrier around us. The light pulsed and shifted, eventually settling into a dome that encompassed not only me but all the Heroes of Kastoria and their soldiers as well. "What is this?!" Kazuto exclaimed in shock, his eyes darting around as he tried to comprehend the situation. His classmates were equally startled, their faces reflecting a mix of confusion and fear. "Guys! We can''t get out of here!" one of them shouted in panic as they futilely attempted to breach the barrier. It was a powerful and impenetrable shield, crafted by Medea herself. She was quite resourceful. Now, within the confines of the dome, it was just Medea and me, face to face with the Kastoria Heroes. "Lord Commander?!" Semiramis cried out, her palm slamming against the barrier in frustration. The Demon knights behind her reacted with agitation, eager to fight by my side¡ªor perhaps for me, though I was unsure of the source of their sudden devotion. Was it fear, respect, or something else entirely that drove them to worship me? It hardly mattered at this moment. I could feel their fervor, their desire to join the battle, but I saw no need to waste their strength. This was a fight I intended to handle on my own. "Just watch. I alone am enough to deal with them," I said, my voice dripping with arrogance. The Heroes of Kastoria narrowed their eyes, their gazes fixed on me with a mix of suspicion and anger. Yet, despite their obvious desire to attack, they hesitated, watching me carefully as tension thickened the air. The silence between us was electric, a prelude to the violence that was about to unfold. I waited, letting the moment stretch, daring them to make the first move. But none of them stepped forward. Even the one who seemed most intent on killing me, the one who had spoken so arrogantly before, stood frozen. "If you won''t come to me, then I will come to you," I declared, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Without warning, I took a single step forward and vanished, my form blurring as I moved with lightning speed towards them. "Barrier of the Kami!" shouted a man with glasses, raising his hand to conjure a powerful barrier between us. The barrier shimmered with divine energy. By the way Kami doesn''t that mean God in japanese? So, this was the power he wielded. It was indeed different from anything I had encountered before. But it mattered little. With a swift, fluid motion, I swung my sword, its edge cloaked in darkness. The impact was immediate and devastating¡ªthe barrier cracked under the pressure before shattering into countless shards that rained down like glass. "W-what?!" the man gasped, his voice laced with disbelief as he stared at the remnants of his shattered defense. As I closed the distance between us, Ryuuki, another one of the Heroes, reacted swiftly. Withdrawing two gleaming swords, he assumed a stance that revealed his intent to engage me in dual combat. So, he was a dual-wielder. Interesting. "Yumikooooo!!!" Ryuuki''s voice echoed with panic, his face twisting into a mask of fear as he saw his companion ensnared by my magic. "Watch now as your mistake unfolds before your eyes," I taunted, a cold smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. The satisfaction of seeing them crumble was undeniable. "No, please!!" Ryuuki pleaded, his voice desperate, but I was beyond the reach of his words. My focus was solely on Yumiko. I was about to strike her down, to end her life and break Ryuuki''s spirit in the process. But of course, it wouldn''t be that simple. "FUCK OFF, TRASH!!" A furious roar erupted behind me. The man called Yusuke charged at me, his massive sword raised high, poised to cleave me in two. His brutish figure loomed over me, intent on striking me down. His reckless bravado reminded me too much of someone¡ªAidan. The thought annoyed me more than anything. I sidestepped swiftly, avoiding his clumsy strike as his blade crashed into the ground with a force that sent shockwaves through the earth, splitting the ground where I had just stood. "Bitch!" He spat, glaring at me with seething rage. "You talk too much," I replied coolly, my patience with him wearing thin. Without wasting another second, I thrust my sword toward his head, intending to end his life in one swift motion. "Shit!!" Yusuke cursed, barely managing to bring his massive sword up in time to block my strike. But the impact was too powerful¡ªhe was sent skidding backward, his feet digging into the ground as his sword trembled violently, on the verge of shattering. "W...what the hell!!" He stared down at his sword in disbelief, unable to comprehend how easily it had been overpowered. I moved without hesitation, reaching out with lightning speed to grasp his throat. My fingers clamped around his neck, and I effortlessly lifted him off the ground. "GUUUUHH!!!" Yusuke gasped, his hands clawing desperately at my arm as his face turned an alarming shade of red. His eyes bulged as I choked the life out of him, his strength rapidly draining away. "L...Leave him!!" Ryuuki''s voice cut through the tension as he finally closed the distance between us. He was faster now, his movements fueled by desperation. I glanced at him, then shifted my gaze back to Yumiko, still trapped within my Black Prison. Her wide, terrified eyes were locked on Ryuuki, pleading silently for help. I could see the panic rising in her as she realized her situation was growing more dire by the second. With a cold movement, I raised my other hand and clenched my fist. The Black Prison responded instantly, the walls constricting inward, crushing her space even further. "Kyaaa!!" Yumiko shrieked in horror as the prison closed in around her, her body trembling with fear. "R...Ryuuki!!" she cried out, her voice trembling, desperate. Her pleas reached Ryuuki, and his resolve faltered. His gaze shifted from me to his classmate, torn between the need to save her and the danger I still posed. "Y...Yumiko!!!" Ryuuki shouted, abandoning his attack on me as he rushed toward her, his mind clouded with worry. "Look at him, abandoning you in your moment of need. You''re trash anyway¡ªno wonder he left you," I whispered coldly into Yusuke''s ear, watching the light fade from his eyes as he struggled against my grip. His strength was failing him, his life slipping away inch by inch. But suddenly, I felt a surge of danger, a presence that caused my instincts to scream in warning. My eyes narrowed as I released Yusuke and threw him aside like a ragdoll, leaping backward just in time. A black flash of light streaked through the air where I had stood, its power resonating with an ominous intensity. As the light faded, I looked up to see a figure emerging from the shadows, her presence both graceful and deadly. She was a strikingly beautiful girl, wearing a skirt paired with a black kimono top that hugged her form elegantly. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, tied with a sleek black ribbon. Her dark eyes that seemed pitch black, sharp and filled with a quiet coldness, locked onto mine with killing intent. ''Akane.'' Chapter 117: The Hero of Darkness Against The Heroes of Kastoria (2) Akane Arima Akane, the elder of the twin sisters by mere seconds, always carried herself with a maturity that set her apart from her sister, Ayaka. This slight age difference seemed to translate into a sense of responsibility and composure that made her the more serious and contemplative of the two. Despite her quiet nature, Akane had always been polite and respectful towards me, a silent understanding passing between us that hinted at a mutual fondness. I had cherished them both in my own way, but Akane''s reserved demeanor made her feelings all the more profound, even if they were seldom expressed in words. Time had not altered Akane''s appearance much, yet there was an undeniable change in her aura. She had become even more unique, her presence colder and more distant, as if she had erected invisible walls around herself. It was as though she had become an unapproachable figure, her silence now carrying an edge of something darker and more formidable. In a swift, fluid motion, she raised her black katana, the blade shimmering ominously with a dark, ethereal light. Without hesitation, she launched herself toward me, her speed a blur. BADOOOM! The ground trembled under the force of our clash as her katana collided with my own black sword. The impact reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of darkness rippling outwards. I stood firm, my feet rooted to the spot, my sword held vertically to parry her strike. The force of her attack was immense, but I did not budge. Akane, her feet anchored to the ground, gripped the hilt of her katana with both hands, every muscle in her body straining as she poured all her strength into the attack. The blade trembled against mine, a testament to the sheer power she was exerting. Her expression was one of fierce coldness, but there was something else in her eyes¡ªsomething that tugged at a distant memory. My gaze remained fixed on her face, the face I never thought I would see again. It was both familiar and foreign, a haunting reminder of a past that seemed so far away. The ground beneath us began to crack under the pressure of our combined forces, and Akane, with a surge of mana, intensified her assault. The air around us whipped into a frenzy, sending my black hair billowing wildly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yumiko struggling within the confines of the prison I had constructed around her. She was on her knees, her small frame huddled in a futile attempt to protect herself. "Hyaaa!!!" Yumiko''s cry of desperation echoed through the chaos, her voice laced with fear and helplessness. "Y... Yumiko!! Damn it!! I can''t break it!!" Ryuuki''s voice was frantic as he relentlessly slashed at the prison with all his might, his desperation to save her evident in every swing of his blade. For a brief moment, Akane''s focus wavered. Her gaze flickered toward her classmate, the slightest hint of concern crossing her features. It was all the opening I needed. With a swift motion, I parried her katana to the side and delivered a powerful kick to her ribs. Akane reacted quickly, bringing her arm up to shield herself from the blow, but the force of the impact was too great. She was sent flying, her body skidding across the ground before she managed to regain her footing. "Sister!!" Ayaka''s anguished voice cut through the tension, her eyes wide with fear as she looked at Akane''s fallen form before turning her gaze to me, now filled with a mixture of anger and dread. "A... Ayaka! I need your help, please!!" Ryuuki''s plea was desperate as he continued to attack the black prison, his blade flashing in the dim light. "R... Right!!" Ayaka, her anger barely suppressed, nodded in agreement. She could see the struggle in Ryuuki''s eyes and knew that the situation was dire. With a determined expression, she raised her white katana, its blade gleaming with a pure, radiant light¡ªthe perfect counter to my dark magic. "White Blade!" Ayaka''s voice rang out as she thrust her katana forward, its tip aimed directly at the prison I had constructed. The blade pierced through the darkness, and cracks began to form along the surface, the white light seeping into the void like a healing balm. A flicker of hope crossed Ryuuki''s face, his lips curling into a small smile as he saw the prison beginning to break. But his hope was short-lived. In an instant, my fist connected with his face, the force of the blow sending him crashing into the ground with a sickening thud. He skidded across the dirt, his momentum only stopping when he collided with his fallen comrades. "R... Ryuuki!!" The horrified voices of Yumiko and Ayaka echoed through the clearing, their concern for their friend overriding their own fear. "You bastard!" Ayaka''s glare was venomous as she turned her attention to me, her white katana still glowing with a fierce light. But she hesitated, torn between the need to defend Yumiko and the desire to attack me. I paid no heed to her frantic pleas and raised my sword, its ominous blade now poised above Yumiko. "W...wait!!" Ayaka''s voice trembled, her face paling as she realized the imminent danger. "I... I won''t let you!!" But before the blade could connect, a white katana intercepted it, the force of the clash sending sparks flying. Akane clenched her teeth, struggling against the overwhelming force of my strike. Despite her determination, the power behind my swing was too much for her to withstand. She was thrown backward, and in the process, she managed to grab hold of Yumiko, pulling her along as they both tumbled through the air. "P...PROTECT THE HEROES!!!" a desperate voice rang out. It was a cry from one of the knights of Kastoria, who had been watching the battle unfold with mounting horror. Until now, they had hesitated to intervene, knowing they were no match for their own strongest warriors, let alone me. But seeing their heroes falter, they could no longer stand idly by. The knights surged forward in a wave, their numbers reaching into the hundreds. They unleashed a barrage of magical attacks, a dazzling array of elements that lit up the battlefield with a cacophony of light and sound. Fire, ice, lightning¡ªeverything they could muster was hurled at me in a desperate bid to overwhelm. I charged forward, a wall of darkness rising above me. The shadowy force absorbed their attacks as if they were nothing more than raindrops against a storm. The first knight who dared to close in on me swung his sword with all his might, but he was too slow. I easily sidestepped his strike and with a swift motion, sliced off his arm. Blood sprayed from the wound as he screamed in agony, his severed limb falling to the ground. What followed was nothing short of a massacre. I cut through the ranks of knights with ruthless efficiency, my black sword carving through flesh and bone as though they were paper. Each swing of my blade ended a life, each step I took leaving behind a trail of carnage. The air was thick with the stench of blood, the ground beneath me growing slick with it. My dark armor and hair were soon drenched in crimson, but I paid it no mind. I continued to kill, each life taken without hesitation or remorse, while the horrified eyes of the Heroes of Kastoria watched, powerless to stop the slaughter. Yes. Watch closely. This is the true face of this world. After dispatching what must have been the hundredth knight, I suddenly felt a surge of danger and instinctively stepped back, narrowly avoiding a black flash that sliced through the space I had just occupied. It was Akane again, but she was different now. Black veins pulsed along her body, and her strength had grown exponentially, at least five times stronger than before¡ªand it seemed to be increasing by the second. Her aura was suffused with a dark energy that was both familiar and terrifying. She took a stance, her movements sharp and precise, and in the blink of an eye, she vanished. Her speed was astounding, nearly beyond my ability to track. But my demonic left eye caught the faintest trace of her movement. I swung my sword with all my might. BADOOOM! This time, the impact sent me sliding back several meters, the force of the collision reverberating through my entire body. Akane''s eyes glowed faintly red, her expression a mixture of pain and rage. Yet despite the obvious strain, she rushed at me once more, her intent clear¡ªshe meant to kill. I met her charge head-on, parrying her sword with my own, but the force of her blows was immense. Each strike made my arm throb with the effort of holding my ground, yet I remained outwardly calm, refusing to show any sign of weakness. We traded blows at a furious pace, her relentless assault gradually pushing me back. All the while, I kept my gaze locked on hers, memories flashing through my mind in a chaotic blur. Memories of who she once was, and of the bond we once shared. With a strong grip on my hilt, I braced myself and parried her next powerful swing. But this time, I did not give an inch. I held firm, my feet rooted to the ground as our swords clashed with a deafening clang. Akane''s hands trembled from the force of the impact. Her cold, calculating gaze bore into mine, our faces now mere inches apart. In that moment, something inside me stirred¡ªan impulse, a need to say something that had long been left unspoken. "You''ve become strong, Akane," I said, my voice was as cold as before but there was an undeniable softness. "!" Akane froze, her fierce expression faltering. Her eyes widened in shock, the coldness draining from her face as she stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time. Her lips quivered, and she hesitated before speaking, her voice trembling with disbelief. "O...Onii-sama..." Chapter 118: The Hero of Darkness Against The Heroes of Kastoria (3) "O... Onii-sama..." The words slipped from her lips, trembling with a mixture of surprise and disbelief, like a faint echo from a distant past. It felt as though countless lifetimes had passed since I last heard her address me with such affection. The name she called out was not just a name¡ªit was a bridge to memories long buried, a connection to a bond that had once meant everything to us both. Her voice, raw and unguarded, revealed her true emotions before she could conceal them behind the facade she had built over the years. She hadn''t forgotten me. Even after all this time, even with my face obscured, my appearance altered, and my presence cloaked, she recognized me. The realization hit her like a shockwave, dispelling the threatening aura she had surrounded herself with. Her eyes, wide with astonishment, searched my hidden features as if trying to reconcile the figure before her with the boy she once knew. There weren''t many who would call her by that name, especially now. With a steady hand, I invoked the power that had become second nature to me. "Master Rank Magic, Black Pull." As I clenched my left fist, a dense wave of darkness surged forth, enveloping Akane''s entire body in an instant. The magic worked quickly, siphoning away her mana, leaving her powerless. She could have resisted¡ªshe was strong, stronger than most¡ªbut the shock of recognition had weakened her defenses. Her once defiant expression faded, replaced by one of pale disbelief, and she crumbled to her knees before me. Yet, even in her weakened state, her eyes remained locked on mine, pleading silently for understanding. I gazed down at her coolly, suppressing any emotions. Before I could process the moment further, a sudden blur of motion caught my attention. "A... Akane!!" Ayaka''s voice cut through the air, her figure darting towards us with terrifying speed. She was like a force of nature, a white katana gleaming with a fierce light in her hand, ready to strike. But I anticipated her move. With a swift leap, I retreated, putting distance between us. The last thing I needed was for this to escalate any further against both of them. "Akane!! What did you do to her?!" Ayaka''s voice trembled with a mix of anger and fear as she knelt beside her sister, holding her close. Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword, the light reflecting off its surface flickering like the rage in her eyes. "Don''t fight," I warned, my voice as cold as the darkness that surrounded me. "This is my last warning." I extended my hand towards one of her classmates, a boy. "Giii!!" A hand of darkness shot out from the shadows, striking the boy in the back with an unforgiving force. He was flung towards me as if pulled by an invisible string. I caught him effortlessly, my fingers wrapping around his throat, lifting him off the ground. "Guuuuhh!!!" The boy''s struggles were pitiful as he writhed in my grip, his terror manifesting in a stream of urine that soaked his pants. His wide, tear-filled eyes stared at me, pleading for mercy. "Taketa!!!" A shout rang out from the crowd¡ªone of his friends, desperate and helpless. "KYAAAA!!!" "NOOOO!!" "HYAAA!!!" The voices of the Heroes, now tinged with terror, echoed across the battlefield. Their cries were filled with disbelief and fear as they tried to process the brutal reality that had just unfolded before their eyes. Taketa, their classmate, their friend with whom they had shared countless hours of study and camaraderie, was dead. His life had been snuffed out right in front of them, and the finality of it was too much for them to bear. The girls, especially, recoiled in horror, stumbling backward as they tried to distance themselves from the scene. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with fear, and some clutched their mouths as if to hold back the rising bile. The boys, on the other hand, glared at me with a mixture of fear and powerlessness, their expressions twisted as if they were staring at the embodiment of pure evil. But their gazes meant nothing to me. My focus was on Ryuuki. He stood frozen, his face a mask of disbelief. But slowly, that disbelief morphed into something darker, something far more dangerous¡ªhatred. His features contorted as the realization sank in, and his hands trembled as he tried to form words. "W...why..." he finally managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. I didn''t respond. There was no point in explaining myself. I had warned them, and they had chosen to ignore that warning. Did they think I was playing some sort of twisted game? That I wasn''t serious? I had given them a chance to walk away, to avoid this bloodshed. "If you don''t want to lose another classmate, scram and never come back here," I said, my voice cold and devoid of any emotion. But Ryuuki didn''t seem to hear me¡ªor perhaps he simply didn''t care. "BASTARD!!!!" he screamed, his voice raw with fury. In a flash, he surged toward me, an explosion of mana erupting from his body. His swords, now glowing with a fierce golden light, crackled with power as he channeled all his strength into his next attack. He was stronger now, far stronger than he had been moments before, but strength alone wouldn''t save him. "I WILL KILL YOU!!!" Chapter 119: The Hero of Darkness Against The Heroes of Kastoria (4) "I WILL KILL YOU!!!" Ryuuki''s roar was filled with a despair, a last-ditch effort to avenge his fallen comrade. "Get stronger then," I replied, my tone almost mocking as I raised my black sword. With a swift, calculated motion, I swung it toward him. Ryuuki attempted to counter with his own strikes, but the sheer force of my blow sent him hurtling backward, his attack deflected with ease. "What?!" The shock in his voice was evident as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. But I didn''t give him time to recover. In an instant, I closed the distance between us, my speed overwhelming him. Before he could react, I drove my foot into his stomach with a brutal kick. Ryuuki''s body bent in half as the wind was knocked out of him, blood spurting from his mouth. He was sent flying, crashing into Medea''s barrier with a sickening thud. The impact reverberated through the air, but I wasn''t done with him yet. Before he could even slide to the ground, I grabbed his arm, yanking him up and slamming him back down with a force that cracked the ground beneath him. He was gasping for breath, struggling to stay conscious, but I could see the fire of defiance still burning in his eyes. "Ryuukiiii!!!" A horrified scream pierced the chaos as Yumiko rushed toward me, her face a mask of terror. But she was too late. "Black Rain," I murmured, summoning another Master Rank Magic without even sparing the Heroes a glance. The sky darkened as sharp, blade-like droplets of black rain began to fall, each one as deadly as the sword in my hand. The Heroes who had been rushing to Ryuuki''s aid cried out in panic. "Kyaa!" "Run away!!" But there was no escape. The rain cut through their ranks, sowing chaos and fear. My attention remained fixed on Ryuuki, who was still trying to rise, his will to fight unbroken. I sneered at his persistence, and with a swift motion, I punched him square in the face. "Guhh!" Blood splattered onto the already stained ground, but he refused to submit. Even as he staggered, he glared at me, summoning what little strength he had left. A golden light began to shine from within him, engulfing me in a radiant glow. But it was futile. My darkness absorbed the light effortlessly, snuffing it out as if it had never existed. "You are weak, Ryuuki," I said, my voice laced with contempt. I caught him by the throat, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. His struggles were pitiful, a far cry from the defiance he had shown moments before. With a cold smile, I hurled him into the air. As he soared upward, I planted my feet firmly on the ground, raising my black sword high above my head. The air around me crackled with dark mana as I gathered an enormous amount of energy into the blade. "I will kill you, and your classmates will soon beg me to let them live," I declared loudly, my voice echoing across the battlefield. The words sent a shiver of terror through the ranks of the Heroes. "Noooo!!!" Yumiko and the others screamed, desperately trying to reach Ryuuki as he plummeted back toward the ground. As these thoughts raced through my mind, Ryuuki''s body finally hit the ground with a dull thud, and Yumiko rushed to his side. But my focus had shifted entirely to this girl, Rena. Despite being one of the strongest Heroes, she hadn''t lifted a finger until now. The question nagged at me¡ªwhy act now? Without a word, I began to walk toward her, my gaze fixed on her and her strange entourage. "Rena-sama! Run!!" The three creatures hovering around her panicked as they saw me approaching, their voices filled with fear. Her classmates, already unnerved, began to flee, leaving her standing alone. Rena clenched her fists, and suddenly, a surge of blue mana exploded from her body. The energy swirled around her, and more of the tiny creatures began to materialize, their numbers growing rapidly from ten to thirty to a hundred, all forming a protective barrier around her. "Interesting," I murmured, my curiosity piqued by this unexpected display of power. In a flash, I vanished from where I stood and reappeared directly in front of her. Rena''s eyes widened in shock, and she instinctively took a step back. But I was too quick. I reached out my hand toward her, only to be met by an invisible barrier. With a swift punch, darkness engulfed the barrier, absorbing it entirely, leaving nothing between us. "Leave Rena-sama alone!" one of the creatures cried out. "Monster!" another shouted as they all unleashed their attacks in a desperate bid to protect their master. "Shut up," I said coldly. An icy wave of dark energy erupted from me, sweeping across the battlefield. The creatures'' attacks were instantly frozen in mid-air, and a thick layer of frost spread outwards, freezing the ground beneath me. The tiny creatures, along with the heroes who had dared to oppose me, were encased in solid ice, their movements halted in an instant. Rena backed away from me, her steps faltering until she was pressed against Medea''s barrier. There was nowhere left for her to run. I reached out and grabbed her arm. "Kya! Leave me! Don''t touch me with your filthy hands!" She shrieked, thrashing wildly in a futile attempt to escape my grip. Ignoring her protests, I effortlessly hoisted her over my shoulder. "Medea, we are leaving," I said. Medea, who had been watching the scene with a faint hint of darkness, nodded reluctantly. "Yes... milord." With a snap of her fingers, the barrier surrounding us dissolved, the energy dissipating into the air like mist. Without wasting another moment, I leaped onto my dragon, Rena still struggling in my grasp. Medea followed suit, her expression unreadable as she mounted her own beast. Together, we took off into the sky, the wind whipping around us as we ascended. "RENA!!!" The anguished cry of Ayaka echoed through the air, the last sound that reached us before we disappeared into the clouds. Chapter 120: Yanagi Rena "Let go of me!" Rena screamed, thrashing wildly as she clung to my shoulders, her small fists pounding against my back with all the force she could muster. The blows were barely noticeable, her strength nothing compared to mine. Her voice was filled with desperation, echoing off the cavern walls. "Release Rena-sama, you bastard!" "Let her go!" "Don''t you dare lay a hand on the princess!" Her three loyal companions were shouting, their voices full of anger and fear, but they were powerless to help. Medea, who had followed us into the cave, had already restrained them with her magic. They struggled in vain against the invisible bonds, their eyes wide with panic as they watched their beloved princess in my grasp. But it was Medea''s expression that caught my attention. Her gaze had turned ominously dark, her eyes filled with a murderous intensity as they locked onto Rena. It was astonishing how much hatred could burn within her for someone she had just met. But then again, it wasn''t difficult to understand. Medea was a woman who had once killed her own children out of spite and jealousy for her unfaithful husband, Jason. Her anger, if not properly controlled, could easily spiral into violence. "Secure the perimeter and feed him," I ordered Medea. I didn''t know what exactly dragons ate, but I trusted Medea would figure it out. For a moment, it looked as though she wanted to argue, but instead, she clenched her fists, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Yes, Lord Samael," she finally replied, her voice tense with barely suppressed emotion. She turned and left the cave, leaving Rena and me alone. Rena glared at Medea''s retreating figure, her eyes narrowed in suspicion and anger. "What''s her problem?" she spat, her voice dripping with irritation. She was seated on a jagged rock, her posture stiff with annoyance and a hint of fear. I hadn''t bothered to bind her¡ªthere was no need. We both knew she wouldn''t escape unless I allowed it. "She wants to kill you," I stated matter-of-factly as I approached her, my steps slow and deliberate. An ice throne materialized behind me, and I lowered myself onto it. "And believe me, she will, if I decide you''re no longer useful to me." Rena''s expression faltered, shock replacing the anger in her eyes. She stammered, "I... If you really wanted to kill me, you wouldn''t have kidnapped me!" I tilted my head, considering her words for a moment before replying coldly, "That''s right. But now, it''s up to you to prove your usefulness to me." Her face twisted with disgust as she spat, "You bastard!" From behind, her three companions renewed their outcries, their voices shrill and desperate. "How dare you speak to Rena-sama like that!" "I''ll kill you!" I leaned back, processing the information. So, Kaguya was their Khione, their orchestrator, but the real force behind everything was Amaterasu. This meant that in the grand scheme of things, Amaterasu was the true enemy, the one pulling the strings from behind the scenes. "What do Kaguya and Amaterasu think of you?" I asked. "What?" Rena looked confused, clearly not understanding where I was going with this line of questioning. "If I kill you, will they retaliate?" I clarified, my voice cold and unfeeling. Rena''s eyes widened in fear, and for the first time, they shimmered with unshed tears. "W-What did you just say...? Wait! Please!" She was trembling now, her earlier bravado completely shattered. "Answer the question," I demanded. "I killed one of your classmates, and none of them reacted. I suppose they don''t care about the weaker ones among you, but what about you? Or that guy with the two swords?" Her expression shifted to one of anger at the mention of the swordsman. "Ryuuki? Hmph! If you harm him, they''ll definitely kill you!" Rena retorted, a hint of pride in her voice. "A-And they won''t let anything happen to me either!" she quickly added, as if trying to convince herself of her own importance. I considered her words carefully. Ryuuki was undoubtedly the strongest among them, the one they couldn''t afford to lose. But Rena... What was her value to them? Would Kaguya or Amaterasu intervene if something happened to her? My gaze bore into Rena, trying to gauge the truth of her words. Was she worth enough to them that they''d risk retaliation if she died? Or was she just another expendable pawn in their game? "Are you finished with your questions? Release me then!" Rena demanded, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. "No," I replied calmly. "What do you mean by ''no''?" She asked, her voice trembling with both fear and frustration. "Not yet," I said. "Lord Commander!" a voice called out from behind. I recognized it immediately as Semiramis. She approached. I turned slightly to acknowledge her. "They''re still at the border, right?" "Y-Yes," Semiramis confirmed, her eyes flicking nervously toward Rena. "They''ve set up camp, and I fear they''re preparing for another attack to retrieve her..." It made sense. Rena was obviously important to her classmates, and I couldn''t see Ryuuki, or my former stepsisters, abandoning her so easily. The real question was whether they''d receive reinforcements¡ªand if Kaguya or even Amaterasu herself would be among them. Chapter 121: Shocked Gods In the celestial realm of Amaterasu, the atmosphere was charged with a mixture of shock, excitement, and simmering anger. The divine space, usually serene and composed, buzzed with energy as the gods watched the recording of Nathan''s fight, his every move replayed in vivid detail. "I can''t believe it..." Hermes murmured, his eyes wide with astonishment as he observed the battle unfold. Nathan''s prowess far exceeded what he had anticipated. ''I knew he was strong, but this? Aphrodite, you''ve kept quite a few secrets from me!'' Inside, Hermes was practically vibrating with excitement. He had always had an eye for potential, and now he was thrilled to have made a connection with such a figure. The future with Nathan promised to be anything but dull. "He''s amazing, isn''t he?!" Ishtar''s pink eyes sparkled with admiration as she watched Nathan systematically dismantle the Heroes of Kastoria. Her infatuation with him had grown rapidly, her curiosity about him deepening with each passing second. It was frustrating that she couldn''t see his face! As gods, they could witness much, but even their powers had limits. If not for these restrictions, Ishtar would have already delved into every aspect of Nathan''s life, uncovering all there was to know about him. "His name is Samael, right? The name sounds a bit weird, but I can''t help wondering what he looks like!" Ishtar''s voice was filled with eagerness, almost trembling with excitement. If it weren''t for the ongoing conflict, she would have descended from her realm to seek him out, to speak with him¡ªmaybe even more. "I want him," she purred, licking her lips sensually as she fixated on the one feature of Nathan she could see: his left demonic, golden eye. The allure of the unknown only fueled her desire. "Are you seriously getting aroused by a man you don''t even know?" Hera asked, her voice laced with disdain as she regarded Ishtar with disgust. "I don''t need to know more than I already do! He''s incredible, and you know it!" Ishtar dismissed Hera''s judgment, her infatuation undeterred by her lack of knowledge. "He''s dangerous," Hera countered, her golden eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the recording of Samael. A deep unease stirred within her. ''That ice... it reminds me too much of Khione.'' Hera''s senses were finely tuned to such things, to the threads of truth woven into the fabric of the cosmos. And something about this man¡ªsomething about Samael¡ªstruck her as intimately connected to Khione, the goddess of snow and ice, who had mysteriously vanished. A plan began to take shape in Hera''s mind. ''Poseidon will be eager to deal with this nuisance,'' she thought. All she needed to do was suggest that this man, Samael, had ties to Khione¡ªthe one Poseidon was desperately seeking. If Poseidon believed there was even a chance of uncovering Khione''s whereabouts, he would not hesitate to unleash his wrath upon Nathan, extracting the truth through any means necessary. "Are you even listening?" Rena''s voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. She was glaring at me, her eyes wet with unshed tears, a mix of anger and frustration etched into her features. It had been hours, and the weariness of the day was catching up with us. It was time to rest, but Rena had been complaining incessantly about her discomfort, refusing to sleep on the hard, bare ground. She was clearly accustomed to a life of luxury, far removed from the harsh realities of war and survival. "If you''re so desperate for a bed, I''ll gladly offer mine," I said coldly as I let the implication hang in the air, "but you''ll have to keep it warm." Rena''s face flushed a deep crimson, her anger and embarrassment rendering her silent as she clenched her jaw, refusing to give me the satisfaction of a response. "Lord Commander..." Semiramis''s voice called out again, hesitant this time. "What is it?" I asked, tossing another log onto the fire, the flames crackling and sending sparks into the air. She hesitated, clearly conflicted. "Shouldn''t we consider releasing this girl? We could use her as leverage to negotiate something with Kastoria." I almost laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. Had Ryuuki''s naive talk of peace and cooperation gotten to her? "Are you questioning my decision?" I asked, standing up slowly, my voice low and dangerous. "N-No, never, Lord Commander," Semiramis quickly shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. I took slow, deliberate steps toward her, closing the distance between us. "Then what? Have you lost faith in me?" "No," she whispered, shaking her head again, her voice trembling slightly. When I was mere inches from her, I looked down, towering over her. I was a bit taller, enough to make her feel the weight of my presence. "I just thought...hmnn~" she began, but her words trailed off into a soft moan as I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her neck. Chapter 122: Eating Semiramis (1) * When I was mere inches from her, I looked down, towering over her. I was a bit taller, enough to make her feel the weight of my presence. "I just thought...hmnn~" she began, but her words trailed off into a soft moan as I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her neck. As the tension mounted between us, I couldn''t help but ask, "Thought what exactly?" My voice was a low murmur, almost drowned by the heavy silence that surrounded us. My right hand, driven by an instinctual need, roamed beneath the fabric of her clothing, finding its way between her thighs. Despite the barrier of her pants, I could feel the warmth radiating from her, a subtle but unmistakable heat that called to me. The pressure of my hand was soft but insistent, seeking out the sensitive spot that lay hidden beneath layers of cloth. She was wearing tight black pants, the kind that hugged her every curve, accentuating the shapeliness of her legs and the delicate arch of her hips. But the thin fabric did little to conceal the contours of her body from my touch. It wasn''t hard to pinpoint the exact location of her pussy, and as I reached out, my fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns over the area, exploring her through the material. I could feel the muscles in her thighs tense as she instinctively pressed them together, trapping my hand in a warm, trembling grip. With a gentle caress, I began to move my hand up and down, creating a friction that seemed to ignite something deep within her. Her breath hitched, the sound escaping her lips in a series of soft, desperate moans. "Hmnn~I...hmnnn th...ought we could...ahnnn!" Her voice was a mix of hesitation and desire, the words struggling to form as I increased the pressure of my touch. Her moan grew louder, her body betraying her as I found the most sensitive spots with unerring precision. As my fingers worked their magic, I soon felt a dampness seeping through the fabric. Her black pants, once pristine, now bore the evidence of her arousal, the dark material growing darker still as her juices began to wet the cloth. Semiramis, feeling the growing discomfort between her legs, tried to alleviate it by pressing her thighs together, rubbing them against one another in a futile attempt to quell the sensations. But the friction only seemed to heighten her need, drawing soft whimpers from her lips. Her response was immediate, a soft, breathy moan escaping her as she tried to comply. "Hmmn~tongue?...hnn!" Her mouth opened slightly, just enough for me to slide my finger inside, keeping her lips parted. And then, without warning, I plunged my tongue into her mouth, exploring her warmth with unbridled passion. The taste of her was intoxicating, a mixture of sweetness and heat that drove me wild. "Hmmnn!!" Semiramis'' body reacted strongly, her muscles tensing as the pleasure washed over her in waves. Her eyes fluttered shut, the once bright red irises now clouded with desire, her gaze turning hazy and unfocused. Tears of pleasure welled up at the corners of her eyes, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she struggled to keep up with the intensity of the moment. Her grip on my arms weakened, her fingers trembling as she fought to stay upright. "Sluuurrp! Schluuup!" The sounds of our tongues intertwining, of saliva being exchanged, filled the room; I continued to explore her mouth, tracing my tongue along the inside of her cheeks, tasting every inch of her. When I finally pulled back, a thin trail of saliva connected our lips, a tangible reminder of the intensity of our kiss. "Haaa??" Semiramis gasped for breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. Her mouth hung open, her lips glistening with saliva. A single droplet escaped, trickling down her chin before falling into the valley between her breasts. I watched, mesmerized, as the droplet slowly made its way downwards, disappearing into the crevice of her bountiful chest. Without thinking, I lowered my head, my lips following the path of the droplet. I pressed my mouth to the skin of her cleavage, sucking hard as I licked up the saliva, savoring the taste of her. "Ahnnn??!!" Her reaction was immediate and intense, her body arching against me as she let out a cry of pleasure. The sound was like music to my ears, a melody that spurred me on to do more, to take more. "What...what are you doing?!" A voice from the side interrupted us, snapping me back to reality. I turned my head to see Rena standing there, her eyes wide with shock, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She had been watching us, witnessing the entire exchange, and now she stood frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. Chapter 123: Eating Semiramis (2) * "What...what are you doing?!" A voice from the side interrupted us, snapping me back to reality. I turned my head to see Rena standing there, her eyes wide with shock, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She had been watching us, witnessing the entire exchange, and now she stood frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. "Do you want to join us?" I asked, my voice cutting through the thick air of the cave, as I turned my gaze towards Rena. My eyes, now partially revealed with the mask removed, fixed on her. Only my right blue eye remained hidden, but the sight of my exposed face seemed to strike her like a physical blow. For a moment, she stood there, frozen, her breath caught in her throat. The surprise and shock were evident in the widening of her eyes, the way her lips parted in a silent gasp. But she was quick to recover, shaking her head with a vehement force as if trying to dislodge the images from her mind. "No way! Disgusting!" Her voice was laced with denial, but her words betrayed a tremor that echoed through the small, enclosed space. Yet despite her strong rejection, I noticed the way her gaze lingered, how she couldn''t tear her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her. It was as if a part of her was entranced, unable to look away, even as she tried to convince herself otherwise. "You didn''t miss a single beat," I noted with a smirk, the corner of my mouth curling upwards in amusement. Her reactions were a mixture of revulsion and something deeper, something more innate that she couldn''t quite suppress. "Then watch," I commanded, my voice taking on a firmer tone. I could see the internal struggle in her eyes, the way her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, almost as if her very skin was on fire. The embarrassment was evident, but so was the curiosity, a forbidden intrigue that she couldn''t quite deny. "I...I don''t want to watch this!!" Rena''s protest was almost frantic, her voice rising in pitch as her face grew even redder, if that were possible. "Let me go!" She shouted. "You are free to go," I replied, my tone almost casual, as if her struggles meant nothing to me. "Really?!" Her eyes lit up with a fleeting hope, and without hesitation, she sprang to her feet, her body moving with a sudden burst of energy. She made a dash towards the exit of the cave, her steps quick and frantic as if she could outrun the situation, escape the pull of the emotions she couldn''t fully understand. But her freedom was short-lived. "Ahnn! M..y lord...hnnn??!" Her moans grew louder, her voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure. The way she called out to me, the honorific slipping from her lips in such a vulnerable state, only spurred me on. I began to move my finger inside her, exploring her narrow slit with a deliberate pace. The tight walls of her pussy clenched around my finger, the wetness making each movement smooth and easy. As I increased the tempo, Semiramis''s expression began to change, the tension in her face melting away into a look of pure ecstasy. "Hmnn~ hnn~ y..yes~" Her voice was breathy, her words barely coherent as she surrendered to the sensations I was creating. Her juices flowed freely, coating my hand as I continued to finger her, but I didn''t care about the mess. My focus was entirely on her, on the way her body responded to my touch, on the look of bliss on her face. I started to accelerate my movements, at first slowly, then picking up speed as I watched her reactions closely. The faster I went, the more intense her moans became, each one a testament to the pleasure she was feeling. "Haa! Haa...hnnn!...hmnnn! Noooo!" Her cries filled the cave, echoing off the walls as I fucked her with my finger, the rhythm relentless. I could see the build-up in her, the way her body tensed, her muscles contracting as she neared the edge. Her head shook frantically, as if she could somehow stave off the impending climax, but I wasn''t going to let her hold back. "Cum for me," I said, in ordering tone. "M..y lorrrddd! Ahnnn!!" The words tore from her throat as she finally let go, her body shaking violently as the orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clenched around my finger, her juices gushing out in waves, drenching my hand and trickling down her thighs. It was a sight to behold, her complete surrender, the way she gave herself over to the pleasure, her legs buckling under the intensity. As the last tremors of her orgasm faded, Semiramis''s body slid down the wall, her legs no longer able to support her weight. She sat there, her back against the cold stone, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to recover. Her face was a picture of exhaustion and satisfaction, a deep flush coloring her cheeks as she looked up at me with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Now I can fuck her. Chapter 124: Eating Semiramis (3) * As the last tremors of her orgasm faded, Semiramis''s body slid down the wall, her legs no longer able to support her weight. She sat there, her back against the cold stone, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to recover. Her face was a picture of exhaustion and satisfaction, a deep flush coloring her cheeks as she looked up at me with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Now I can fuck her. "Remove your armor," I commanded, my voice firm but laced with an undertone of hunger. It wasn''t a request; it was an order, and she was all the up to comply it. "Hnn... yes..." Semiramis nodded meekly, her voice barely above a whisper as she complied. With trembling hands, she began to unclasp the intricate pieces of her armor, each movement slow and deliberate as if she were gathering the last remnants of her resolve. The sound of metal hitting the stone floor echoed in the cave, a reminder of the barriers she was shedding, both physical and emotional. As the last piece of armor fell away, she stood before me in nothing but a simple tunic, the loose fabric clinging to her sweat-slicked skin. The tunic was belted at the waist, but it did little to hide the outline of her voluptuous figure. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her breath came in shallow gasps, the exertion of her recent climax leaving her weak and trembling. I reached out, my fingers brushing against the cool metal of her belt before deftly unfastening it. The belt slipped from her waist with ease, and I tossed it aside, my eyes never leaving hers. Slowly, almost reverently, I lifted the hem of her tunic, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her abdomen. As the fabric rose higher, her bountiful breasts were revealed, twin peaks that were both beautiful and inviting. Her nipples, a soft pink hue, stood erect, the cool air of the cave causing them to tighten even further. They looked almost like small berries, ripe and ready to be plucked, begging for attention. I couldn''t resist. I reached out, grasping her breasts with both hands, feeling their softness, their weight. They were large, full, and incredibly pliant under my touch. "Hmnn!" Semiramis bit her lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as I massaged her breasts. The sensation of my hands on her bare skin sent shivers down her spine, her body reacting instinctively to the pleasure. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into my touch, her body arching slightly as if offering herself to me completely. I couldn''t hold back any longer. Slipping my head beneath her tunic, I pressed my lips to her left nipple, the warmth of her skin seeping into me as I began to lick. My tongue traced slow, deliberate circles around the areola, teasing the sensitive flesh before I took the nipple fully into my mouth. "Ahn!" The moan that escaped her this time was louder, more desperate. Her hands found their way into my hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as she pulled me closer, urging me to continue. I sucked on her nipple, my lips pulling at the tender flesh as I savored the taste of her skin. Her reactions were intoxicating, each gasp, each moan, driving me further into a frenzy. I shifted my attention to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. My tongue flicked over the nipple before I took it into my mouth, sucking hard enough to draw a cry from her lips. I could feel her body responding, her muscles tensing and relaxing in time with the rhythm of my mouth. The sensation of her large, soft breasts against my tongue and lips was almost too much to bear, a pleasure in itself. A thought crossed my mind as I lavished attention on her breasts¡ªhow much more satisfying it would be if I could draw milk from these full, luscious mounds. The image alone was enough to make my cock twitch in anticipation, and I knew I couldn''t wait any longer. My erection was now painfully hard, straining against the fabric of my pants. It was time to take this to the next level. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lifted her with ease, her body light in my arms as I laid her down on the cold stone floor. "Haa!" Semiramis gasped, her eyes wide with surprise at the sudden movement, but I didn''t give her time to protest. I was quick, efficient, my hands moving with purpose as I pulled her pants down her legs, the tight fabric clinging to her skin before finally giving way. I discarded the pants, leaving her only in her boots, her legs now fully exposed. She lay before me, her body completely bare save for the boots, her pussy glistening with wetness. The sight of her exposed, vulnerable, and still flushed from her recent climax, was almost too much to bear. I could see her instinctively trying to cover herself, her hands moving to hide her pussy out of shame. But I wasn''t about to let her shy away. I quickly removed my own armor, the pieces falling to the ground with a clatter, before lowering my pants. My cock sprang free, fully erect, the tip already glistening with precum. The sight of it seemed to shock Semiramis, her eyes widening as she took in the size of it. "B...big..." she whispered, her voice trembling as she gulped nervously. "It will never fit... My lord..." Her words, laced with fear and uncertainty, only served to ignite the darker instincts within me. The thought of corrupting her, of making her take all of me despite her doubts, was too enticing to resist. The new angle allowed me to hit a spot within her that made her back arch involuntarily, her mouth opening wide in a silent cry. "Haaaannn...?? Yeeess... Hmmn...!" The words spilled from her lips, barely coherent as her body reacted to the intense sensations. Her head lolled back, her long, dark hair spilling around her like a halo of shadows. Her eyes, glazed over with a mixture of pain and pleasure, stared up at the ceiling of the cave, seeing nothing but the overwhelming storm of sensations flooding her senses. A wicked smile curled my lips as I saw the change in her expression, the way her body was beginning to succumb to the pleasure I was forcing upon her. PAH! PAH! PAH! I quickened my pace, each thrust accompanied by the wet, slapping sound of flesh against flesh. The squelching sounds as my cock plunged in and out of her drenched pussy only heightened my arousal, the obscene noise showed how thoroughly I was ravaging her. "Ahnn??! Ahmmnn??!! S...so good! Ahnnn, yes??... Hmnn??!" Semiramis''s face was no longer the stoic mask of a knight; it had melted into a portrait of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Her serious demeanor was gone, replaced by a woman lost in the throes of ecstasy. Saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth, a clear sign of how deeply I had unraveled her composure. I leaned down, capturing the trickle of saliva with my tongue before pressing my lips to hers in a rough, possessive kiss. "Hnn! Hmmnn!" She whimpered against my mouth but didn''t resist. Her lips parted, allowing me to delve deeper, to explore her mouth as thoroughly as I was exploring her body. I dominated the kiss, my tongue sweeping through her mouth as if to claim it as mine, just as I was claiming the rest of her. "You have such a sinful body, Semiramis," I growled against her lips, my voice thick with lust. I tore away the remnants of her top, discarding the fabric that had once served as her modesty. Her breasts were now fully exposed, and I grasped them roughly, squeezing them as I continued to thrust deeper, harder, faster. "AHNNN??! AHN??! OH GOOOD! MILOOORD! HMNN??! YES!" Semiramis cried out, her voice ringing through the cave, bouncing off the cold, unforgiving walls. Her head thrashed from side to side, her long hair whipping around like a dark waterfall. Her lips were bitten, raw from the force of her own teeth as she tried to ground herself amidst the overwhelming sensations. Her hands scraped against the ground, her nails digging into the dirt as she fought to hold on to some semblance of control. But control was slipping away from both of us. The tightness in my groin was building, a familiar tension that signaled the approaching climax. I could feel the heat pooling in my belly, spreading through my veins like wildfire. My grip on her hips tightened, my fingers digging into her flesh as I thrust harder, deeper, determined to reach the very core of her being. PAH! PAH! PAH! With a final, powerful thrust, I drove myself as deep as I could, feeling her pussy contract around me as if trying to hold me in place. Semiramis''s body arched off the ground, her mouth opening in a silent scream as I erupted inside her, my semen flooding her womb in thick, hot streams. "HAAA!!" she gasped, her eyes wide with shock and pleasure as she felt me filling her, the sensation too much for her to handle. Her body convulsed, shuddering violently as the force of my ejaculation triggered her own release. "Hmnnn??! Soooo hoooot!" She murmured, her voice slurred with exhaustion and pleasure. A blissful, dumb smile spread across her lips as her body continued to twitch, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensations coursing through her. "T...Take it," I growled, my voice rough and hoarse as I held on to her breasts, using them as leverage to bury myself even deeper inside her. My cock twitched with the aftershocks of my release, pumping the last of my seed into her already overflowing womb. "AHHHHNNN??????!!!" Semiramis''s voice rose in a final, desperate cry, the sound echoing through the cave, carrying with it the weight of her pleasure and surrender. Her body convulsed once more before going limp beneath me, her eyes fluttering shut as she finally succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure. Chapter 125: The Depressed Heroes of Kastoria "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK HIM! I WILL KILL HIM! THIS BASTARD! KILL HIM!!" The furious cries echoed through the dimly lit tent, where the tension was so thick it seemed to choke the very air. Yusuke, his face twisted in rage, had just reduced his chair to a pile of shattered wood with a furious kick. The camp of Kastoria''s Army and Heroes, hastily established on the outer border, was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but the disastrous turn of events forced them to reconsider. Now, their stay stretched into an uncertain, bitter vigil. Yesterday was meant to be a day of triumph, their first major victory against the forces of Tenebria. But instead, it had ended in a nightmare, a cacophony of defeat that echoed in their minds. The culprit behind this crushing blow was not an army, nor a monster, but a single man¡ªa man whose name now struck fear and fury into their hearts: Samael, the Hero of Darkness. He had decimated their ranks with an ease that bordered on contempt, rendering even the strongest among them helpless. The devastation was made worse by the loss of two of their own. Taketa, one of their classmates, had been killed by Samael''s hand, while Yanagi Rena had been taken, her fate unknown. The heroes had been summoned to this world over a year ago, and until now, they had never lost a comrade. But today, they were brutally reminded of their mortality, and worse still, by another Hero like themselves. The atmosphere within the main tent was suffocating, thick with grief, anger, and unspoken blame. Yusuke, on the edge of snapping, glared at anyone who so much as looked in his direction, daring them to speak. His wrath was a storm barely contained, and the shattered chair at his feet was just a taste of the fury that raged within him. Ryuuki sat silently, his bare chest exposed as Yumiko tended to his wounds, tears streaming down her face as she worked. His long bangs concealed his expression, but his silence spoke volumes. Ryuuki, who had always been a voice of reason, a beacon of peace among them, had not uttered a single word since Rena was taken. The gentle healer who had once advocated for understanding and mercy was now a man haunted by his own inaction. He still believed in peace, but the compassion he once held for Tenebria and its people had withered, replaced by a cold, burning resolve. "It''s my fault." "I... I think it''s Nathan." Ayaka froze. The name struck her like a bolt of lightning. Nathan. The name she could never forget, the name that haunted her with guilt and regret. She stared at Akane, hoping she had misheard, that it was some sort of mistake. "Nathan? Nathan who?" Akane bit her lip, lowering her head as if the words were physically painful to say. "...Onii-sama." "Onii-chan?!" Ayaka''s voice erupted, louder than she intended, the shock and disbelief clear in her tone. The rest of the class turned to look at Ayaka, stunned by her outburst. The way she had said "onii-chan" was so uncharacteristically childish that for a moment, some of them found her almost endearing. Ayaka was known for her strength and determination, so hearing her speak like that was jarring. None of them had ever heard her mention having an older brother. Ayaka''s face flushed red with embarrassment, but she quickly shook it off, her focus snapping back to her sister. "That''s impossible! I¡ªI mean, Onii-chan is back on Earth, in the US!" "B... But I''m sure it''s him, Ayaka," Akane stammered, her voice trembling. "He called me Akane, and I couldn''t see his face clearly, but it felt so familiar, like it was really him." If anyone had seen Akane in that moment, flustered and unsure, they would hardly believe their eyes. The cold, composed beauty was now visibly shaken, and the sight was almost surreal. Some might have even been tempted to capture the moment, to preserve this rare glimpse of vulnerability in a girl who was usually so calm and collected. Ayaka stared at her sister, words failing her as she processed the revelation. She had never seen Akane like this, not since the day they had left Nathan behind. Could it really be him? Could the brother they had thought lost to another world somehow be here, in this twisted version of their reality? "Is... that really him?" Chapter 126: Kaguya Appeared! "Is... that really him?" "I think... no, I am sure of it. It''s Nathan... um, Onii-sama." Akane''s voice was soft but resolute as she nodded, the conviction in her words growing stronger with each passing moment. The more she allowed herself to remember, the more certain she became. Ayaka, still reeling from the shock, could barely process what her sister was saying. Her mind raced with a thousand questions, each more unsettling than the last. Before she could speak, another voice broke the heavy silence in the tent. "Ayaka-san is right." The unexpected voice drew the attention of everyone in the room. As they turned toward the newcomer, a collective gasp filled the air. Ryuuki''s mouth hung open in disbelief. "Kaguya-san..." In the midst of their despair, Kaguya''s arrival was like a breath of fresh air. Her presence, so radiant and commanding, seemed to infuse the tent with a renewed sense of hope. Her white eyes, calm and perceptive, swept over the group, assessing the state of the Heroes who had been so thoroughly beaten. ''It''s worse than I imagined,'' she thought, her heart sinking as she took in their despondent faces. When the Goddess Amaterasu had informed her of the events that had transpired, Kaguya could scarcely believe it. That all of her Heroes had been overwhelmingly defeated, with one slain and another kidnapped by the Hero of Darkness, was a reality she hadn''t been prepared for. But now, seeing the aftermath firsthand, she began to understand the gravity of the situation¡ªand why Amaterasu had sent her here with such urgency. "What are you doing here, Kaguya-san?" Ryuuki voiced the question that was on everyone''s mind. Kaguya''s gaze softened as she addressed them. "Goddess Amaterasu told me about what happened. I sincerely apologize for what happened to Taketa-sama." She bowed her head lightly, a gesture of respect and sorrow for their fallen comrade. "It''s not your fault, Kaguya-san. It''s that Hero of Darkness!" Yumiko spat, her voice thick with anger and grief. Ayaka and Akane exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier resolve now wavering. If Samael truly was Nathan, how could they possibly bring themselves to fight him? The thought of facing their brother, let alone killing him, was unimaginable. Their hearts, once filled with determination, now hesitated in the face of this new, cruel reality. Kaguya sensed their inner turmoil but pressed on. "The Hero of Darkness has proven to be far more dangerous than we initially thought. It''s our failure for not properly assessing his true strength, but now we can prepare ourselves," she said, her voice steady and reassuring. My thoughts shifted as I turned my attention to Rena''s side of the room, expecting to see her still asleep¡ªor at least restrained¡ªbut instead, my gaze met a pair of heterochromatic eyes, one green, one red, staring back at me. "Good morning, Lord Samael," Medea greeted me with a smile, though her eyes were dark, almost smoldering with something unspoken. It didn''t take a genius to figure out why she was upset. She must have realized what had transpired between Semiramis and me while she was away. I looked past her, scanning the room for Rena, but she was nowhere to be seen. My expression turned cold, my gaze sharp as I fixed it on Medea. "Where is she?" I asked. Rather than shrinking under my glare, Medea seemed to revel in it. Her cheeks flushed, her breath quickening as she responded, "She needed some fresh air, so I let her take a walk. But don''t worry, Lord Samael¡ªI made sure she can''t go too far. She knows what will happen if she does." A mix of irritation and relief washed over me. I couldn''t entirely trust Medea''s motives, but I also knew she wouldn''t risk Rena''s escape, especially not when she was clearly vying for my attention in her own twisted way. "Any news from Kratos?" I asked, shifting gears as I stood and began pulling on a fresh shirt. "Yes," Medea replied, her tone returning to business. "It seems the Heroes are preparing a new attack." "Has someone joined their side?" I asked, buttoning my shirt. "Not any news about reinforcements has leaked," Medea reported. "But as you requested, Samael, I surveilled the area and detected a very strong presence near the Heroes before it suddenly vanished. It''s likely heading in our direction." A cold sneer twisted my lips. "I knew it." Was it the Goddess Amaterasu herself coming to confront me, or perhaps one of her retainers? Either way, it was clear that this new presence was someone with the power to pose a significant threat. My instincts told me it was someone capable of challenging me. Before I could contemplate further, Medea''s attention snapped to the entrance of the cave. "My Lord." I followed her gaze and sensed it too¡ªa powerful force drawing near. The air around us seemed to crackle with an almost palpable energy. "He or she has arrived, huh?" Chapter 127: Fight against Kaguya I donned my armor, feeling the familiar weight settle around my shoulders as I left the cave. The moment I emerged, Medea''s voice sliced through the silence, sharp and questioning. "Who are you?" Her eyes, usually so composed, were now focused intently on a figure hovering above us, her gaze filled with hostility. I followed Medea''s line of sight. The figure before us was no ordinary being. She was something otherworldly, an ethereal presence that radiated power and beauty beyond the realm of mortals. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded down her back, reaching her waist like a dark waterfall. Her eyes, a striking shade of white, held an ancient wisdom, as if she had seen the rise and fall of countless civilizations. "The Hero of Darkness," she whispered, her voice carrying a weight of recognition. Medea''s eyes narrowed, her tone growing more demanding, "Who are you?" The woman turned her gaze towards me, and when she spoke, her words were laced with authority. "Kaguya. The most loyal servant of Goddess Amaterasu," she declared. But Medea remained unmoved by the divine connection Kaguya claimed. Her voice was cool, almost dismissive as she asked, "Why are you looking for Lord Samael?" Her lack of reverence for the goddess was obvious/ Kaguya''s eyes locked onto mine, her expression unreadable as she spoke with purpose. "I am here to recover one of my Heroes. Where is Yanagi Rena?" Her cold voice rang. Medea, ever the embodiment of cold detachment, shrugged with an air of indifference. "Who knows?" she replied, her tone as icy as her demeanor. In that moment, I couldn''t help but feel a deep appreciation for Medea. She was perfect as my first companion. Her mind worked in ways so similar to mine, always calculating, always focused on the end goal. Like me, she held little regard for the gods, their whims, or their desires. Once obsessed with something she would never leave it alone. It was one of the main reasons I chose her to be one of my Knights. It was a kind of devotion that could move mountains, and I intended to harness that power. Kaguya''s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her head shaking slightly as if to clear away some unwelcome thought. When she opened them again, they were colder than before. "Hero of Darkness," she began, her voice low and foreboding, "for the sin of having killed one of the Heroes of Kastoria, Goddess Amaterasu has sentenced you to death. I will be the one to carry out that judgment." A slow, cold smile spread across my lips as I stepped forward, my every movement exuding confidence and defiance. "Sins?" I echoed, my voice dripping with contempt. "If I recall correctly, it was your heroes who crossed into our territory with hostile intentions. You should be grateful that I spared the lives of the rest of your precious Heroes. I could have easily slain every last one of those weaklings before you even arrived, Kaguya." The only reason I had let them live was because of Ayaka and Akane, two people from my past who still held a small piece of my heart, despite everything. After all these years, it seemed that some remnants of care and affection lingered within me. Kaguya''s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she raised her hand. In an instant, a long, white weapon materialized in her grasp. It was a glaive, the kind used by ancient warriors, its blade gleaming with a deadly purpose. With a surge of power, I called forth a torrent of dark energy, sending it spiraling toward her. The ground beneath her feet erupted in a geyser of black flames, forcing her to retreat. But she was quick, far quicker than I anticipated. She leapt into the air, her body twisting gracefully as she dodged the darkness, and before I could react, she was upon me again. I raised my sword to block her strike. The impact jolted up my arm, nearly causing me to lose my grip. Kaguya pressed her advantage, hammering me with a relentless barrage of attacks, each one stronger and faster than the last. Her glaive whistled through the air, a deadly blur of silver and light, and it took every ounce of my strength just to keep up. She was strong, stronger than the current me clearly. She wasn''t Amaterasu''s trusted servant for nothing I suppose? And it would be naive of my part to think I could beat with just another awakening and darkness magic after a mere week. "I will end your life now," Kaguya declared, her voice cold and resolute as she raised her glaive high. She traced a glowing circle in the air, the white light intensifying until it ignited with divine flames. "Flames of Amaterasu!" The air hummed with power, and I knew that if I took this hit, it would be my end. But I wasn''t about to let that happen. "Temporary Raise." I funneled every last bit of my Luck Stats into my Speed, feeling a surge of energy flood through me. "Die, sinner!" Kaguya spat, her eyes burning with hatred. But in the blink of an eye, I was no longer there. Her glare found only empty space. "What?!" she gasped, disoriented as she realized I had vanished from her sight. With her attack already launched and my speed now divine, she didn''t even have a chance to react. I was behind her in an instant. I placed my hand gently on her back. "Celestial Magic: Freeze." In an instant, her body was encased in ice, a pillar of frost extending from the ground to the sky. Her expression remained frozen, a look of complete shock etched on her face. I reversed the Temporary Raise, feeling my stats return to their normal distribution. Stepping closer, I caressed her frozen cheek, a smile tugging at my lips. "Bring me Amaterasu," I whispered to her ear with a smirk. Chapter 128: Amaterasu Horrified "It seems even Kaguya has been defeated," Hermes said, his voice calm and unruffled as if he were merely commenting on the weather. Yet, the gravity of the situation was not lost on anyone present. The assembly of gods was momentarily stunned into silence, their disbelief palpable. Kaguya, the most loyal servant of Goddess Amaterasu, had fallen¡ªa thought that seemed almost impossible. As the realization set in, the tension in the air thickened. "He''s even more amazing than I thought!" Ishtar exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of admiration and desire. A slow smile crept across her face, and she licked her lips with anticipation. "What''s a man like that doing in such a hopeless place as Tenebria? Should I bring him to my domain?" The mere thought of it seemed to thrill her. Hera, who had been watching the scene unfold with an air of cool detachment, turned her gaze to Amaterasu, the goddess''s fists clenched tightly. "What are you going to do, Amaterasu?" Hera asked. "As much as you might want to kill him, you know the consequences. Unless he poses a direct threat to your life, you cannot simply strike him down." Amaterasu''s eyes flashed with anger, but before she could speak, Hermes interjected with his usual smoothness. "Or perhaps you do nothing? Let Kaguya and the Hero remain captives, but you could at least save the others by ordering them to retreat. It''s a strategic choice, even if not an easy one." But Amaterasu''s temper flared at the suggestion. "Out of the question!" she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "I will not abandon Kaguya." Ishtar leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Then what will you do? That Hero of Darkness is no fool. He won''t release her without a fight, and even then, not without getting something in return." Amaterasu''s expression hardened, her mind racing as she considered her options. "I will find a way," she said. "He''s just a human, after all. I''ll offer him something so irresistible that he''ll have no choice but to comply. Until then, stay out of my way!" With that, Amaterasu vanished, leaving the others to ponder her parting words. Ishtar pouted, her plans thwarted for the moment. "Muuu! I wanted to speak to him!" she complained frustrated. Hermes chuckled, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "We all know what you wanted, Ishtar," he teased, his laughter light yet knowing. Ishtar''s eyes sparkled with a mix of determination and excitement. "I can''t help it! How long has it been since I''ve seen a man this... unique? He''s even more captivating than Adonis and reminds me of Gilgamesh! I''ll definitely make him mine. With Phoebe by my side, we''ll be invincible!" With her mind made up, Ishtar too disappeared. "Sluuurp~" A peculiar sound reached her ears as she ventured further into the darkness. It was an odd, wet sound, like something being sucked or slurped. The noise was strange, out of place, and it made her frown in suspicion. She moved closer, her divine presence masked so as not to alert Samael to her arrival. "Yeah, lick around," a voice spoke, dripping with vile satisfaction. Amaterasu''s blood ran cold. There was no mistaking that voice¡ªSamael, the very being she loathed. The sight that greeted her as she crept closer stopped her dead in her tracks. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. "Hmmmff~" There he was, standing with his lower half exposed, a twisted smile of pleasure on his lips as he stroked the dark hair of the figure kneeling before him. The grotesque, slurping sound was unmistakable now, echoing in the confined space of the cave. "Sluuuurp!" The sound echoed again, and with it, a soft, submissive whimper. Amaterasu''s heart twisted in horror as her eyes confirmed what her mind refused to believe. It was Kaguya, the girl she had nurtured and protected for so long. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-closed in a haze of humiliation and confusion as she obediently sucked and licked at Samael''s erect cock. Chapter 129: Taming Kaguya (1) A little while ago... Yanagi Rena was the pride of the Yanagi House, a family of true nobility in Japan. Raised in an environment steeped in tradition and privilege, she had never known a day of want or inadequacy. Her upbringing was meticulously curated; she was given the finest education, groomed to be the best in every way. Excellence was not just expected of her¡ªit was demanded. And Rena delivered. She excelled in her studies, outshining her peers with ease. The only ones who ever came close to rivaling her were the Arima twins, two of her classmates who occasionally stirred a competitive fire in her otherwise serene confidence. But all of that changed in an instant. Rena, along with the Arima twins and several others, found themselves transported to another world, thrust into an existence far removed from the life of privilege she had always known. The shock of this new reality was profound, but Rena''s resolve was stronger. Thanks to her innate connection to powerful Yokai spirits, she adapted quickly, harnessing their strength to survive and even thrive in this unfamiliar world. For a year, things went relatively well. Rena and her companions managed to carve out a place for themselves in this strange new world. They honed their abilities, grew stronger, and for a time, it seemed as though they could overcome any obstacle. But then they encountered a force beyond anything they had imagined¡ªa man whose power eclipsed their own. The Hero of Darkness, Samael. Their confrontation with him was nothing short of disastrous. Rena and her comrades were utterly overwhelmed. Samael''s strength was terrifying, his presence suffocating. In the chaos of battle, she was captured, taken prisoner by the very man who had shattered their fragile sense of security. Fear gnawed at Rena from the inside out, a fear she was unaccustomed to feeling. Yet, she refused to let it show. She steeled herself, determined to appear unyielding in the face of this new reality. But it quickly became clear that Samael was indifferent to her existence. And then things took a darker turn. She was forced to witness something she could never have prepared for¡ªSamael, in the throes of passion with another woman, Semiramis, right in front of her. The act was so brazen, so raw, that it left her paralyzed, unable to tear her eyes away. Rena had never seen a man naked before, and now, Samael''s form was burned into her memory. His body was like something out of a forbidden dream: pale, flawless, every muscle etched with precision, dark tattoos tracing across his skin in patterns that only heightened his aura of danger and allure. And then there was his spear... Samael, however, seemed entirely unfazed by Rena''s distress. His cold gaze was fixed on Medea. "You''re here, Medea," he said, his voice despite cold there was some softness when speaking to her. "Before I release her, I want you to shackle her movements. No need to restrain her for too long¡ªan hour will be sufficient." His gold eye gleamed with a dark, sinister intent, making Rena''s skin crawl. "W-Wait, what is Kaguya doing here?!" Rena demanded, her voice rising with panic as she moved closer to the frozen figure. Samael''s reply was chilling in its simplicity. "She attacked me, and I beat her." "You... you beat her?" Rena''s mind reeled at the revelation. Kaguya was not just powerful; she was like a goddess, a being of almost incomprehensible strength. The idea that Samael had defeated her was unthinkable. "M-Monster..." she muttered, her eyes narrowing into a glare as she looked at him with a mixture of fear and loathing. If Kaguya had come to rescue her, what hope did she have now that even Kaguya had fallen? Her thoughts spiraled into despair. Kaguya was undoubtedly the strongest warrior of Kastoria, and if she had been bested, what chance did Rena have? Done, Samael." Medea''s words were accompanied by a sweet, almost playful smile as a red circle of magic flickered to life around the frozen Kaguya. Samael extended his hand, and with a mere thought, the ice encasing Kaguya began to crack. The fissures spread rapidly before the icy prison exploded into shards, revealing Kaguya within, her body trembling, her breath ragged. The once proud and powerful warrior now stood with her face twisted in humiliation, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and shame. "You... you will pay for this with your life!" Kaguya''s voice was filled with fury. "You already tried that, and look where it brought you," I replied. Kaguya attempted to stand, to gather her strength and retaliate, but she quickly realized that her powers were useless. The red cuffs around her wrists glowed ominously, sealing away her mana, rendering her completely powerless. Medea''s handiwork was flawless, as expected. The sorceress was a master of all forms of magic, capable of devising spells that could bind even the mightiest of foes. "Kaguya-san... even you..." Rena''s voice was barely a whisper as she bit her lip, her heart breaking at the sight of her fallen comrade. The reality of their situation was beginning to sink in, the hopelessness of it all pressing down on her like a suffocating weight. "Rena-san, you''re alive. What are you going to do to us?" she demanded, her cold glare directed at me. I stared at her, my expression unreadable. "I wonder." Chapter 130: Taming Kaguya (2) * "Rena-san, you''re alive. What are you going to do to us?" she demanded, her cold glare directed at me. I stared at her, my expression unreadable. "I wonder." "If you kill us, you might as well start digging your own grave. The Gods will not let this affront go unpunished. They''ll come for you, and when they do, you''ll stand no chance," Kaguya spat out. I tilted my head slightly, considering her words with an air of almost casual curiosity. "What about Amaterasu? Won''t she be the first to come after me? Isn''t that her duty as your protector?" I asked, watching her closely for any flicker of truth or deceit in her eyes. Kaguya hesitated, the briefest moment of uncertainty flashing across her face before she quickly composed herself. "No," she said, her voice steadier now, but the lie was obvious. "She doesn''t care about me. You can kill me right now, and it won''t matter to her in the slightest." My smirk widened into something colder, more sinister. "Is that so? You expect me to believe that Amaterasu, the goddess who raised you like her own daughter, wouldn''t care if you died? You think she wouldn''t come tearing down the heavens themselves to avenge you?" Kaguya''s eyes widened in shock, her attempt at maintaining composure crumbling at my words. She had underestimated me, and now the fear she had been trying to hide was plain on her face. "How do you¡ª" she began, but the words stuck in her throat. It pays to have the Goddess of Beauty as an ally. Aphrodite is full of useful information. "I''m quite certain Amaterasu would come for you, and that''s exactly what you want, isn''t it? You want me to kill you so that your precious goddess has a reason to kill me. Am I wrong?" Kaguya fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she stared at the ground. Her silence was answer enough. I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a whisper that only she could hear. "I''ll use you to bring about the downfall of your dear goddess." "No! Don''t! Please, don''t do that!" Kaguya''s face drained of color, her earlier bravado vanishing in an instant. The panic in her voice was undeniable now, a stark contrast to the composed warrior she had been moments ago. "Why shouldn''t I?" I asked, my tone mocking as I straightened up. "You tried to kill me under her orders, didn''t you? Isn''t it only fair that you pay with your life? You were prepared to die when you came after me, weren''t you? That much should be obvious." "Please!" she begged, her voice trembling. "She''s a goddess! Do you have any idea what will happen if you kill a goddess?!" I shrugged, utterly indifferent to her pleas. "I don''t really care about that," I replied, my voice cold and final. The truth was, I had long since decided to take down the gods who had dared to threaten what was mine¡ªPoseidon, the gods of Light, and now Amaterasu. Killing her would just be another step toward that goal of course if I really wanted to kill her. The seriousness in my voice sent Kaguya into a deeper state of panic. She was beginning to realize just how grave the situation was, how close I was to actually carrying out my threat. "I-I''ll do anything! Please, don''t kill her!" Kaguya''s fear was evident¡ªshe understood the magnitude of the threat I posed. Most would have laughed if I claimed I could kill a god, but Kaguya knew better. She had seen enough to know that my words were not empty threats. "W-Why are you doing this? Just release us! We won''t come after you again!" Rena shouted from behind. "Why am I doing this?" I echoed, turning to face her. "I''m merely retaliating for your attack. You and your companions came after me with the intent to kill, and now you expect me to just let you go with a promise that you won''t do it again? I don''t trust simple words, Rena. I need something more than words if you want me to believe you." My eyes bore into hers, letting her know that I wasn''t the kind of person who could be swayed by empty promises. "Let''s not waste time, Kaguya. Amaterasu could be here any moment," I warned. I cast a glance at Medea, who had been watching the scene unfold with empty, hollow eyes. She understood my unspoken command and quietly left the cave, leaving us alone. Kaguya slowly turned her face back toward my cock. "It won''t hurt you. Touch it," I urged, grabbing her soft, delicate hand and guiding it toward my shaft, wrapping her fingers around the heated flesh. "It''s h-hot..." she whispered, her blush deepening as she looked at me, clearly terrified of what was to come. "Now stroke it," I ordered, watching as she obediently began to move her hand up and down, the soft friction of her fingers sending jolts of pleasure through my body. Her touch, hesitant yet warm, was far more satisfying than I had anticipated. Before long, my cock was fully erect, throbbing with the building intensity of the moment. Kaguya noticed the bead of pre-cum forming at the tip, her eyes widening in fear. "Something... is coming..." she said nervously, her voice trembling as she spoke. "It''s nothing dangerous. You can lick it," I instructed, my voice calm and commanding. "L-Lick?!" "Yes, I told you to use your tongue and mouth, remember?" I reminded her. She swallowed hard, her throat visibly convulsing with the effort. The last vestiges of her dignity were slipping away as she leaned forward, her lips parting in reluctant surrender. The warmth of her breath ghosted over the head of my cock, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I watched, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth, as she finally pressed her tongue against the swollen tip, her entire body tensing as if she were bracing herself for something far worse. "Sluuurp!" Her tongue was soft, tentative, as it flicked out to catch the bead of pre-cum that had gathered there. The taste must have been strange to her, perhaps even bitter, as she flinched retreating her head. "How''s it?" I asked with a smile. "W..what is that.." She asked. "My semen. Now continue to lick." Kaguya reluctantly approached her lips again as she slowly dragged her tongue around the head, tracing the sensitive ridge with a careful, almost clinical precision. Her gaze flicked up to meet mine, searching for approval, for any sign that she was doing this right. "Sluuurp!" "Good," I muttered, my voice rough with lust. "Keep going." Kaguya''s white eyes were glassy with shame, but she continued, her tongue now working more earnestly to coat the head in her saliva. I could feel her reluctance, the way she tried to distance herself mentally from what she was doing, but it didn''t matter. She was doing exactly what I wanted, and that was enough. "Sluuurp~sluuurp~sluuuuuuuurp!" Chapter 131: Taming Kaguya (3) * Kaguya''s white eyes were glassy with shame, but she continued, her tongue now working more earnestly to coat the head in her saliva. I could feel her reluctance, the way she tried to distance herself mentally from what she was doing, but it didn''t matter. She was doing exactly what I wanted, and that was enough. "Sluuurp~sluuurp~sluuuuuuuurp!" "Take it in your mouth," I commanded, my voice low and insistent. She hesitated. I simply waited, my cock throbbing with need as she finally, slowly, opened her mouth wider and took the head between her lips. The heat of her mouth was exquisite, a stark contrast to the cold, detached way she tried to approach the task. I groaned softly, the sound escaping before I could suppress it. There was something so deliciously degrading about this¡ªforcing her, a proud and powerful being, to service me like this, her dignity stripped away with every reluctant movement of her mouth. "Hmmff~" Kaguya''s lips stretched around the width of my cock, her cheeks hollowing as she began to suck tentatively, her tongue swirling around the head in an effort to please. Her hands remained at the base, squeezing slightly as she tried to gauge my reactions. I could feel her inexperience, the uncertainty in every movement, but it only made the situation more intoxicating. The thought of corrupting her further, of breaking down her resistance entirely, fueled the fire of my desire. "Deeper," I urged, my hand finding its way to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her silky, dark hair. I applied a gentle pressure, guiding her to take more of me into her mouth. Her eyes widened in alarm, but she obeyed, sliding her lips further down my shaft. She gagged slightly as I hit the back of her throat, her body instinctively trying to pull back, but I held her there, letting her adjust to the intrusion. "Relax your throat. It''ll go easier for you." "Hmmfff..." Kaguya''s breath came in ragged bursts through her nose as she fought the urge to choke, her throat convulsing around my cock. The sensation was incredible, her warm, tight mouth struggling to accommodate my length. She was trying so hard, poor thing, but I wasn''t about to make it easy for her. I pushed her down further, forcing more of my cock into her mouth, until her nose was almost brushing against my abdomen. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she didn''t resist, her lips stretched thin around the base of my shaft. "T-Take it, Kaguya," I growled, my voice strained and heavy with desire. The words were rough, nearly lost in the overwhelming haze of my carnal hunger. "Swallow every drop!" With a final thrust, I erupted, releasing thick ropes of hot semen deep into her throat. The sensation was overwhelming, each spurt a surge of satisfaction that coursed through me, sending shivers down my spine. It felt as though the climax lasted for an eternity, an endless flood that poured into her, forcing her to endure every humiliating moment. Kaguya''s eyes fluttered shut, her long lashes trembling as the hot, viscous liquid hit the back of her throat. Her expression was one of resignation, a silent acceptance of her fate as she felt the warmth spread within her. The seconds dragged on, each one a painful eternity as she waited for the ordeal to end. Finally, when the torrent ceased, she looked up at me, her eyes asking me to pull away. But I merely smirked. "Drink everything," I commanded, my voice dripping with satisfaction. The words were not a request but a decree, one she could not refuse. Her body shuddered with exhaustion, but her will was strong. She knew that the only way to end this torment was to comply. With a defeated sigh, she forced herself to swallow, her throat convulsing as she gulped down the last remnants of my seed. I watched with a twisted satisfaction as her throat bobbed. GULP! The audible gulp was like music to my ears, a sweet sound that signaled her complete submission. When I was certain she had swallowed every drop, I released my grip on her hair, letting it fall like a cascade of black silk around her shoulders. "Ha! Ha!" Kaguya gasped, her breaths coming in ragged bursts as she finally drew in the air she so desperately needed. Her coughs were harsh, her body convulsing as she expelled the emptiness of her lungs. But there was nothing left to cough up¡ªshe had obediently swallowed everything, ensuring that not a single drop went to waste. As I adjusted my pants and turned my gaze toward Amaterasu. "You''re quite late, Goddess," I said, finally acknowledging Amaterasu''s presence. But the Goddess of the Sun did not respond to my taunt. Her eyes were fixed on Kaguya''s flushed face, a mixture of emotions flickering across her divine features¡ªanger, sorrow, and perhaps even a hint of helplessness. Kaguya, sensing the weight of Amaterasu''s gaze, quickly averted her eyes. Her face was a deep shade of red, a combination of shame and lingering humiliation. She couldn''t bear to meet the eyes of the goddess who had protected her, the very embodiment of light and purity. Instead, she looked away. Chapter 132: Enslaving Another Goddess! (1) "You''re quite late, Goddess." Amaterasu didn''t respond right away. Her attention was entirely consumed by the sight before her¡ªthe state of Kaguya after she had been pleasuring me. The Goddess''s eyes fixated on the remnants of the act: Kaguya''s lips, still glistening with saliva, were stained with traces of my semen, a small stream of it trickling down her chin, like a shameful mark of her submission. Kaguya, realizing the state she was in, hurriedly wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Yet, the embarrassment was far too overwhelming. Her usually composed demeanor had crumbled, and she couldn''t bring herself to meet Amaterasu''s gaze. She remained on her knees before me, her face a mixture of horror and humiliation, as if the very act had stripped her of any remaining dignity. I noticed Rena as well, who had been silently witnessing everything. Her face was flushed, a deep crimson, betraying the storm of emotions raging within her. She attempted to hide her embarrassment by covering her face with her hands, but she couldn''t help herself from stealing furtive glances through her fingers. It was clear that the scene before her was overwhelming¡ªfirst, she had watched as I had fucked Semiramis, and now, she had just witnessed Kaguya''s mouth being used in a similar fashion. The sheer intensity of it all was too much for her to bear. Unable to face me, she had retreated to a corner, trembling, and hadn''t even acknowledged the presence of the Goddess. "W-what did you do to her?" Amaterasu''s voice wavered as she finally spoke, her lips trembling with barely suppressed rage. The atmosphere around her seemed to crackle with raw energy, the air thick with the palpable anger emanating from her. It was understandable, of course. Any deity would be furious upon witnessing such a scene, especially when it involved one of their most loyal servants. But in this case, she should have thought twice before sending Kaguya to me. "Just punished her," I replied with a nonchalant shrug. My tone was deceptively calm, almost casual. "For trying to kill me. She was quite fortunate, you know. I could have killed her instead. You should be happy and grateful toward me, don''t you think?" I added, my voice dripping with arrogance. Though my words seemed like a simple explanation, the underlying message was clear: I had acted in self-defense and had even shown mercy by sparing Kaguya''s life. There was no longer any justification for her to seek my death, especially since I was merely a human in this world of gods and powerful beings. Amaterasu''s glare intensified, her eyes burning with a desire to tear me apart limb by limb. As I observed her, I couldn''t help but acknowledge the sheer beauty that befitted a Goddess. She was the third deity I had encountered after Khione and Aphrodite¡ªor ''Kami,'' as they were referred to in this world. Her beauty was divine, a perfect blend of ethereal grace and regal power. She was the deity worshipped in the kingdom of Kastoria, the one who had ordered the attack against me. "Release her," Amaterasu commanded, her voice firm as she directed a glance toward Rena. "Both of them." I raised an eyebrow at her demand, a cold smile playing on my lips. "You think you can order me, Amaterasu?" I asked, my voice laced with icy contempt. I let my hand trail leisurely along Kaguya''s shoulder, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. "Don''t you understand your position here?" Amaterasu stood there, her eyes locked on mine, her emotions a storm she quickly reined in. The fiery anger that had been simmering just moments ago was now tempered by a cold, calculating calmness. At least she was capable of holding back her rage, even if it was only for now. "Stay where you are," I ordered, pressing the sword deeper into the ice that now surrounded Kaguya''s form. The threat was clear¡ªI could end her life with a mere flick of my wrist. Amaterasu''s fists clenched at her sides, her knuckles white with the effort of restraining herself. Her gaze was scorching, a silent promise of retribution, but she remained rooted to the spot. Once confirming she didn''t move an inch I spoke. "I need more than just your words to trust you," I continued. "A mere promise isn''t enough." "And how can I trust you?" she shot back, her voice seething with barely controlled anger. "You could kill Kaguya and Rena the moment I swear not to attack you." "Yes, that''s true," I acknowledged without hesitation. "Which is why we''re not done here yet. Before we continue, I want you to surround this entire area with your divine barriers. I don''t want any other gods knowing what transpires here." A flicker of surprise crossed Amaterasu''s face. Clearly, she hadn''t expected me to be aware of the divine interference barriers that gods could create. She was likely wondering how I could possibly know about something so esoteric, so specific to the realm of the divine. How did I know? The answer was simple. Every time I had been fucking Khione, she had used a similar barrier to ensure our privacy, making sure that no one could see or hear what we were doing, including our most intimate conversations. With a sharp snap of her fingers, Amaterasu summoned the barrier, and I could sense it materializing around us¡ªa powerful, invisible force that sealed off the area from prying eyes. The sensation was familiar, the same subtle yet unmistakable presence that I had felt whenever Khione had created such a shield. It seemed that even Amaterasu, with all her pride and power, had no desire for what happened here to be known either. Her reputation, her dignity as a goddess, would not allow it. We were now fully enclosed, the world outside this cave completely shut out. It was just the two of us. Perfect. I hide my growing smirk and continued the act. Chapter 133: Enslaving Another Goddess! (2) We were now fully enclosed, the world outside this cave completely shut out. It was just the two of us. Perfect. I hide my growing smirk and continued the act. "I will now use a restraining seal on you," I stated calmly. "A restraining seal?" Amaterasu echoed, her voice filled with confusion. "It''s similar to a slave seal," I explained, watching her reaction closely. "Once it''s in place, you won''t be able to break your oath. You just need to repeat your words, and the seal will ensure you keep your promise. Do you understand?" As soon as the words "slave seal" left my lips, I saw her eyes narrow. The very mention of such a thing was enough to ignite her suspicion. But I remained composed, my expression unreadable. I knew that if I showed any signs of deceit, any hint of malice, she would be on me in an instant. I needed to tread carefully, to make her believe that I was being straightforward, even if the truth was only half-revealed. In reality, it was indeed a slave seal, a powerful binding magic that would force the bearer to adhere to their promises or face dire consequences. But the tricky part was that for the seal to work, I needed her full consent, or I had to catch her off guard when she was in a weakened state. With Khione, it had worked because of my extraordinary luck. She hadn''t seen me as a threat, a newly summoned hero who seemed utterly naive about the world. The last thing she had expected was that I would wield a divine rank skill, especially one that was originally her own. That element of surprise had been my greatest weapon. But Amaterasu was different. She was wary, cautious. Her divine presence radiated power and control, and she was clearly on guard. I couldn''t rely on luck alone this time. I had to be more strategic, more deliberate. She stared at me, her eyes probing, searching for any hint of deception. But I kept my face impassive, a mask of calm certainty that gave nothing away. "Lord S-Samael..." Medea''s voice trembled as she watched the scene unfold, her expression a mixture of pain as she restrained a Goddess. All this time, while I had been occupied with taming Kaguya, Medea had been carrying out the task I had given her the previous day¡ªa spell capable of binding a goddess, even if only for a few precious seconds. I felt a surge of satisfaction as I watched Amaterasu struggle against the chains. My lips twisted into a smirk as the white glow of magic began to envelop my hand. "Divine Rank Magic: Forbidden Seal," I intoned, my voice filled with the weight of absolute authority. "No... Nooooooo!!!" Amaterasu''s eyes blazed with a fiery orange glow, her voice breaking into a desperate scream. She thrashed against the chains, her divine energy bursting forth, shattering Medea''s restraints one by one as she tried to break free. But it was too late. "Hargh!" Amaterasu gasped, her defiance shattering as my black sword, a relic of the previous Demon King, pierced her stomach. The blade sank deep, its malevolent energy consuming her strength. Her face drained of color, and she coughed up blood, her eyes wide with disbelief. The white glow of the Forbidden Seal began to take effect, spreading across her weakened body like a curse. With a flick of her fingers, Medea summoned ten more chains, binding Amaterasu once again. The goddess was now ensnared, her power draining away with every passing moment. The combined forces of Medea''s chains, the Black Sword, and the Forbidden Seal left her with no escape, her strength siphoned off to feed the sword that now impaled her. Amaterasu fell to her knees gasping for breath. I looked down at her, my golden eye narrowing with sick satisfaction as I observed the White Seal glowing ominously on her chest. "What is an enslaved Goddess?" I asked her coldly. "Just a slave." "!" Amaterasu flinched looking up at me with horror. Chapter 134: Ending the Fight Against Kastoria (1) Yanagi Rena could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Her life had been filled with incredible, nearly impossible events¡ªthe most shocking being her sudden summoning to another world. Yet, standing before her was a man who nearly surpassed even that in sheer disbelief. His presence was utterly captivating, unsettlingly so. His dark, curly hair was slicked back, revealing a face so unnervingly handsome that it seemed almost unreal. Only one of his eyes was visible, glowing like molten gold, while the other was concealed beneath a mysterious eye patch. His appearance was the very embodiment of both fear and fascination, a paradoxical blend of the terrifying and the magnificent. Rena struggled to accept that this man could be from Earth, just like her. The idea seemed absurd, yet there was no denying the truth. She first suspected it when she overheard him muttering in Japanese. The second confirmation came when she picked up something said by Akane, thanks to her Yokes. The word that escaped Akane''s lips was one laden with meaning: "Onii-sama." That was how Akane addressed him¡ªSamael. The Arima Twins, as far as Rena knew, had no brothers. However, she had heard rumors that they had once been adopted, and she deduced that this "Samael" must be their stepbrother. But that only deepened the mystery rather than solved it. Why was their stepbrother so overwhelmingly powerful? And so terrifying? Samael had defeated all of them, including Ryuuki, whom Rena had believed to be the strongest among them. Then, as if that wasn''t enough, he had also bested Kaguya, a feat that seemed impossible. And now, as if reality itself was mocking her understanding, a Goddess knelt before him. Not just any deity, but Amaterasu, the legendary Sun Goddess from Rena''s homeland, was bowing in submission to this man. The sight was nothing short of surreal¡ªunfathomable. He had managed to bring a Goddess to her knees. What was most disturbing, though, was the ease with which he did it. There was no visible strain, no sign of effort in subduing both Kaguya and Amaterasu. It was as if he had done something as simple as breathing. Didn''t he feel even the slightest bit of fear? Rena wondered. And where was his sense of shame? "Then obey me," I repeated, my voice as cold as the blade I held. "I''m going ahead to deal with your pathetic heroes. Take your time to process your new situation, but know this¡ªthe longer you take, the more of your precious Heroes will die. I''ve already shown mercy by killing only one of them." They could thank Ayaka and Akane for being their classmates. If it weren''t for them, I would have wiped out every last one of them without hesitation. "But this time, there will be no mercy. You will order Kaguya to intervene, to create peace," I continued, my voice a sharp edge. "I will release Rena, and in return, we will make an exchange. You will withdraw your armies and swear never to attack Tenebria again in exchange for Rena''s release." Of course, the promise was nothing more than a fac?ade, a meaningless gesture when I had their Goddess under my control. The true power was already mine, and I intended to wield it to my advantage. I could see Rena behind me, her eyes widening in shock as she heard my words, realizing for the first time that I intended to release her. From the beginning, she had been nothing more than a pawn in this larger game, a tool to achieve my goals. I didn''t have time to waste on Kastoria or its leaders, not when my own time was running out. With only two months left to live, Kastoria, Kaguya, and even Amaterasu were merely obstacles, distractions that needed to be dealt with swiftly and efficiently. Now, I could finally turn my attention to the Trojan War. I wasn''t naive¡ªI knew what was coming. Aphrodite had been helping me all along, and I suspected her motives weren''t entirely selfless. It was clear she was going to ask me to take her side in the war, to fight alongside the Trojans against the Greeks. After everything she had done for me, it was only a matter of time before she called in the favor. I wasn''t against the idea. In fact, I was prepared to repay her. But there was more to it than mere repayment. Aphrodite had hinted at something that had piqued my interest¡ªa way to escape the fate that was looming over me. A way to cheat death. That alone was enough to make me consider her request. But there was a problem. The Trojan War wasn''t just another battle; it was a clash of titans, a stage where all the Greek gods would be present. Among them were Poseidon and Hera, both of whom Khione had warned me about. Chapter 135: Ending the Fight Against Kastoria (2) "Lord Kratos!" Kratos, who had been resting in his tent, turned sharply at the sound of one of his men calling out to him. The soldier looked anxious, breathless from urgency. "The Heroes of Kastoria and their armies are advancing toward us again!" the soldier reported, his voice tinged with disbelief. Kratos frowned deeply, his mind racing. They really have the guts to attack us again after what Samael did to them? Where are they getting this sudden confidence? "Prepare our army," Kratos ordered with a calm authority. "We''ll show them once more the might of Tenebria." He paused for a moment, thinking quickly. "And send an envoy to the Lord Commander. Inform him of the situation." "Shouldn''t we wait for the Lord Commander?" a soft voice interjected. Semiramis had entered the tent. Kratos turned his gaze to her, noticing something different about her appearance. Her skin seemed to glow with an almost ethereal light, and there was a softness to her features that hadn''t been there before. Her hair was neatly tied back, and, if he wasn''t mistaken, she was wearing makeup. The change was subtle but striking. Under different circumstances, Kratos might have asked her what had brought about this transformation, but the urgency of the situation took precedence. He pushed the thought aside, focusing on the battle at hand. "He might arrive too late," Kratos responded. "We need to be ready when they attack." "Why are they attacking us when we have a hostage?" Megara asked as she entered the tent, her brow furrowed in confusion. When Nathan had kidnapped Rena, the Heroes of Kastoria had been visibly distressed, so this aggressive move puzzled her. "Humans seldom care about their comrades," Kratos replied with a hint of disdain, his voice steady. He saw no logic in their actions, attributing it to the unpredictable nature of humans. None of them could have known that Kaguya had appeared on the side of the Kastorian Heroes, promising to rescue Rena. That pledge had reinvigorated their spirits, giving them the courage to attack despite the risks. "Let''s go," Kratos said, his voice hardening with resolve. He reached for his sword and strode toward the tent''s entrance. Semiramis and Megara followed closely behind. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã In the same blood-soaked field where they had suffered their previous defeat, the Heroes of Kastoria and the army of Kastoria gathered once more. The ground still bore the dark stains of their fallen comrades'' blood, a grim reminder of the lives lost, despite the bodies having been removed. The air was thick with tension, each breath heavy with the weight of what had transpired here. Ryuuki stood at the very spot where his classmate, Taketa, had been brutally slain by Samael. The memory of that cold-blooded murder haunted him, twisting his usually kind expression into one of grim determination. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles white with the force of his grip. Beside him, Yumiko watched with concern, her eyes flickering between Ryuuki''s darkened face and the battlefield that stretched out before them. They knew all too well what was coming. "Everyone, step back!" Ryuuki commanded, his voice filled with urgency. The golden dragon, its scales gleaming ominously, spread its massive wings as it descended from the sky. The ground quaked beneath its weight as it landed, lowering its head. Three figures dismounted from the dragon. Samael, clad in his dark, imposing armor, stepped forward, his left eye gleaming like gold through the mask that concealed his face. Beside him were Medea, hand Rena, who seemed physically unharmed. "Rena-san..." Ayaka breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes locking onto her. But her gaze quickly shifted to Samael¡ªNathan, the man behind the mask¡ªher heart pounding in her chest. Akane, who had been convinced of his true identity as her stepbrother, stood silently, her eyes wide with a mixture of recognition and fear. She watched Nathan with bated breath, nerves fraying with every passing second. "Kya!" Nathan effortlessly lifted Rena onto his shoulder, her small frame offering no resistance as he leaped down from the dragon. Rena let out a startled, almost helpless yelp, her cheeks flushing a deep red from both embarrassment and the suddenness of the action. She didn''t dare struggle or even meet the eyes of her classmates, too mortified by the position she found herself in. "You''ve got guts trying to fight again after I killed your classmate," Nathan said, his voice dripping with disdain as he stood before the assembled Heroes of Kastoria. "Rena-san..." Yumiko began, concern lacing her voice as she took a hesitant step forward. "Don''t come any closer unless you want her dead," Nathan snapped, his tone cold and threatening. His grip on Rena''s sides tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing him to inadvertently squeeze the sides of her breasts. "Haan~" Rena couldn''t suppress the small moan that escaped her lips, the sound echoing in the uneasy silence that had fallen over the battlefield. Her face, already flushed, turned an even deeper shade of crimson, mortified that everyone had heard her. Ayaka''s frown deepened as she watched the scene unfold. She knew Rena well¡ªtoo well, in fact, to believe that this was the real her. The way Rena was blushing so intensely, her unusually docile demeanor, and her overly reactive responses... None of it seemed to add up. Something was off, terribly off. "Do you all have a death wish, or what?" Nathan''s voice cut through the tension. His golden eye scanned the group, and under his piercing gaze, they all flinched, the fear of him palpable in the air. Ryuuki''s fists clenched at his sides. But a darker thought gnawed at the back of his mind¡ªif Rena was here, did that mean Kaguya had failed? The very idea seemed impossible to him, something he refused to believe. He convinced himself that Kaguya had likely arrived too late, after Nathan had already made his move. Meanwhile, Nathan slowly lowered Rena to the ground. His arm wrapped tightly around her neck, and with the other hand, he brought a sword to her throat, the blade gleaming menacingly. "Now, try me again." Chapter 136: Ending the Fight Against Kastoria (3) "Now, try me again." The air grew heavy with tension as I held my sword firmly against Rena''s throat. The sharp edge of the blade gleamed under the sun light. Everyone around us froze in place, their eyes wide with shock and fear. Ryuuki, who had been glaring at me with murderous intent just moments before, was now rooted to the spot, his rage tempered by uncertainty. "Release her..." The voice that broke the silence belonged to Ayaka. Her words were not a command, nor did they carry the weight of a threat. Instead, they were soft, almost pleading¡ªa request rather than an order. I turned my gaze toward her. Ayaka met my eyes, but her expression betrayed her inner turmoil. There was no calmness, no serenity in her features. She had realized the truth about me. It wasn''t surprising, given that I had spoken directly to Akane, but I hadn''t expected them to unravel my identity so quickly with just a single word. "This will be the last time you see me here," I began, my voice cold. "You will not set foot in Tenebria again. You will not attack us, nor will you attempt anything against us. From this moment forward, you will completely ignore our existence. If you desire to fight, then so be it. There are plenty of other kingdoms in this land to satisfy your thirst for battle. Go ahead and indulge yourself in those conflicts, but know this¡ªhere, you are nothing. I believe you understand that I can kill every last one of you if I choose. Do you grasp the gravity of the situation, or do I need to make an example of someone else?" I pressed the blade harder against Rena''s neck, the metal biting slightly into her skin. I expected Rena to react, to cry out in fear or plead for her life. But she did neither. Her composure was unnerving; she had clearly taken my earlier words to heart when I said I intended to use her as leverage rather than to end her life. She wasn''t frightened in the slightest¡ªonly uncomfortable, her face flushed with an emotion that was difficult to decipher. Perhaps it was embarrassment, or maybe anger. But fear? No, there was none of that. Her classmates, on the other hand, were a different story. Their faces were pale, their eyes filled with terror as they witnessed the threat unfold before them. "W-We can''t make decisions like that ourselves!" stammered Kazuto, the man with glasses, his voice trembling with panic. "What?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him. "Kaguya-san and the King are the ones who make the decisions!" he replied, his words tumbling out in a rush. He wasn''t wrong. "Are you sure about this, Lord Commander?" Kratos asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he broke the silence. "About what?" "About letting the Heroes of Kastoria live?" he clarified, his brow furrowed with concern. "If given time, they might..." "They might what?" I interrupted, my tone dismissive. "They could train for a hundred years, and I would still be able to kill them with ease." "Such arrogance," Megara said a bit shocked. Whatever she thought of me, it didn''t matter. Only I knew the truth of the situation. Amaterasu and Kaguya were no longer my enemies. In fact, they were now aligned with me, whether they realized it or not. With them on my side, Kastoria posed no threat. The kingdom was, in essence, already mine, its power rendered meaningless. As I pondered these thoughts, I felt the weight of several gazes on me. Turning slightly, I caught sight of Ayaka and Akane, standing a short distance away. They seemed to be deep in conversation, likely debating how to approach me. After all these years, they still didn''t know how to begin. Feeling the confines of the camp closing in around me, I decided to slip away. Cloaking myself in darkness, I moved through the camp, erasing my presence as I went. How long would it take them to finalize that contract? The waiting was growing tiresome. As I continued walking, I glanced back and noticed Ayaka and Akane trailing me, their eyes scanning the area but finding nothing. They couldn''t see me, but they could sense something¡ªan unease that gnawed at them. It was annoying, to say the least. I ducked into a random tent, seeking a moment of solitude where I could gather my thoughts. It would also serve as a place to speak anonymously if they managed to find me. However, when I turned around, I was met with an unexpected sight that made my eyes widen in surprise. There, standing in the middle of the tent, was Rena. She was in the midst of undressing, her fingers hesitating on the delicate fabric of her lingerie, frozen in shock at the sudden intrusion. Her wide eyes locked onto mine, her body stiffening as the realization of our situation set in. Chapter 137: Talk with the Former Step-Sisters (1) There, standing in the middle of the tent, was Rena. She was in the midst of undressing, her fingers hesitating on the delicate fabric of her lingerie, frozen in shock at the sudden intrusion. Her wide eyes locked onto mine, her body stiffening as the realization of our situation set in. "You... Y-You..." she stammered, her voice barely a whisper as she tried to process the situation. Her lips quivered, and the color in her cheeks deepened to a vivid red. Of all the tents I could have stumbled into, I had somehow chosen hers. The absurdity of the situation struck me, but there was no time to dwell on it. Before Rena could fully react or let out a sound that would surely draw attention, I moved quickly. "Kyahmmm!" Her startled cry was muffled as I pressed my hand firmly over her mouth. Her body tensed, and in her panic, she struggled, causing us both to lose our balance. We tumbled backward, her lithe form collapsing onto the ground with me falling on top of her. Despite the chaotic descent, I kept my hand securely over her mouth, stifling any further outburst. "Mmmph!" She protested, her muffled voice a mix of fear and shock. "Quiet," I hissed, my voice low and urgent. "Do you want to ruin everything with a scream?" My words seemed to sink in as the realization of our precarious situation dawned on her. After a moment, her struggles ceased, her body going still beneath mine. The closeness of our position was suddenly all too apparent, her nearly bare skin warm against me, her rapid breathing tickling my neck. The thin fabric of her underwear left little to the imagination, and I could feel the heat radiating from her, her body trembling slightly under the weight of the tension between us. "H...How long?" she managed to ask, her voice barely more than a shaky whisper. I didn''t respond, my attention sharply focused outside the tent. I could hear the faint rustle of movement, the muffled voices of Ayaka and Akane approaching. They were close¡ªtoo close. If I didn''t act quickly, the situation would spiral out of control. "Hide somewhere," I said. Rena nodded quickly, her eyes wide with understanding. She gathered her clothes in a hurry, slipping away from under me and diving beneath a nearby table, the fabric of her lingerie brushing against the floor as she concealed herself. Just as she disappeared from sight, the tent''s flaps parted, and Ayaka and Akane entered. Their eyes scanned the interior until they landed on me, their expressions shifting from determination to shock. The sight of me there, in that tent, caught them completely off guard. They had been searching for me, but now that they had found me, they seemed at a loss for words, their initial resolve faltering. "O-Onii-chan... it''s really you..." Ayaka muttered, her voice trembling with disbelief. She stared at me as though I were a ghost, her mind struggling to reconcile the person before her with the memories she held. "Onii-sama... I... am..." Akane''s voice faltered, her words catching in her throat. She looked at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and anxiousness, and when our gazes locked, she flinched as though she had seen something she couldn''t comprehend. Both of them¡ªAyaka and Akane¡ªstill called me the same names they used to, like they were holding on to some fragile thread of the past. Despite everything, it felt strangely comforting to know that they still saw me as their dear brother, even after all these years. Seeing no immediate danger or reason to linger, I prepared to leave. "Nothing, then," I said, turning to exit the tent. But before I could take a step, Ayaka''s hand shot out, gripping my arm with a firmness that surprised me. Her grip trembled slightly, but there was a desperate strength in it. "Please, Onii-chan... Please..." she pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion. Her plea stopped me in my tracks. Reluctantly, I turned back and stepped further into the tent, signaling my willingness to hear them out. I stood silently, waiting for them to find the words they so clearly struggled with. "A... About what happened, about what I said... I... am so... sorry... Onii-chan... I..." Ayaka''s voice quivered as she spoke, her hands clenching into tight fists that trembled with regret and her face pale. She was likely referring to that last, painful day¡ªwhen she and Akane had walked away from me, leaving behind words that had cut deeper than any blade. "Onii-sama... I am sorry... We really don''t see you like that... You are... our only family... please..." Akane added, her voice barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of guilt. Her eyes were downcast, unable to meet mine as she spoke, her entire being radiating sorrow and repentance. They were asking me to forgive their words, to let go of the past that had driven a wedge between us. But the truth was, there was nothing for me to forgive. Their words, their actions on that fateful day, held no weight in my heart now. The burden of guilt they carried was their own, not mine. I remembered that day clearly¡ªthe day their mother, my stepmother, died. It was a moment that should have been filled with grief, with tears and mourning. But my reaction had been nothing. No tears fell from my eyes, no sorrow touched my heart, and I offered them no comfort when they needed it most. Instead, I had stood before them, a hollow shell of the person they once knew. My face had worn a smile, but it was empty, devoid of any real emotion. My eyes, which should have mirrored their pain, were cold and lifeless. And then, with a voice as flat and unfeeling as the expression on my face, I had spoken the words that had spoiled everything. "Don''t worry, I will be there for you. You can forget your mother now." Chapter 138: Talk with the Former Step-Sisters (2) Instead, I had stood before them, a hollow shell of the person they once knew. My face had worn a smile, but it was empty, devoid of any real emotion. My eyes, which should have mirrored their pain, were cold and lifeless. And then, with a voice as flat and unfeeling as the expression on my face, I had spoken the words that had spoiled everything. "Don''t worry, I will be there for you. You can forget your mother now." Those words, delivered with a smile that barely reached my eyes, were intended to soothe, but instead, they only deepened the discomfort. The expression on my face was a facade, a mask hiding the emptiness within, as I tried to offer comfort that I didn''t truly feel. My attempt to reassure them was hollow, lacking the warmth and empathy they desperately needed. In truth, I had failed them, unable to share in their grief, unable to mourn alongside them as they deserved. Even in that moment, both of them could sense that something was wrong with me. They had always been perceptive, and despite their love for me, they couldn''t help but feel the growing distance between us. When I uttered those empty words, their frustrations, which had been bubbling beneath the surface, finally spilled over. I didn''t blame them for it¡ªnot in the slightest. I reached out gently, my hand finding its way to her hair, and patted it softly. She looked up at me, surprised by the unexpected gesture. "I don''t resent you or anything, Ayaka. And neither you, Akane," I said, turning to look at both of them with as much sincerity as I could muster. "I could never hold anything against my adorable younger sisters." "O-Onii-chan?" Ayaka''s voice trembled with a mixture of surprise and happiness, her cheeks flushing pink as tears welled up in her eyes and began to spill down her face. Akane, standing beside her, was unable to hold back her own emotions. She bit her lip, trying to stay strong, but the tears soon followed, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. She stepped closer to me, and without a word, wrapped her arms around me, holding on tightly. Her body shook with quiet sobs as she buried her face in my chest, her tears soaking into my shirt. I held her close, wrapping my arms around her in return, offering what little comfort I could until she finally began to calm down, her sobs subsiding into soft sniffles. Ayaka stood there, hesitating for a moment, her face still flushed, her eyes full of unspoken emotions. I gave her a reassuring smile and gently pulled her into a tight embrace as well. She melted into the hug, her small frame trembling slightly as she let herself be held. After a few moments, I released her, stepping back to give her space. "I should go now, to sign the contract," I said, breaking the silence. "We... we''re not children anymore, Onii-chan!" Ayaka suddenly declared, crossing her arms with an embarrassed face. "You can treat us as women, you know!" A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "I know you''re women. You''ve both grown up beautifully." "T-That''s right..." Akane murmured, averting her gaze with a shy blush, clearly a bit flustered by the acknowledgement. Ayaka seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking again. "Oh, Onii-chan, about Rena-san... hm. Thank you for sparing her. She''s a bit loud-mouthed, but... she''s not a bad person." Her words caught me off guard. I hadn''t expected Ayaka to speak up for Rena, especially given how we were all inclined to draw thick lines between those we cared about and those we didn''t. That''s why, despite me having killed her classmate, Ayaka hadn''t shown much concern. But for some reason, she felt something for Rena, enough to ask me to spare her. Maybe I had made the right decision in keeping Rena alive. "Go ahead, I''ll join you in a moment," I quickly added, sensing the time to move on. "Y-Yes... we will see each other again, right?" Ayaka asked, her voice tinged with a hint of fear, as if she was afraid the answer might not be what she hoped. "Of course," I said, nodding with certainty. Even though currently I was busy, once everything was over with the Divine Knights and I made my life stable, I had the attention to live peacefully with them but the others in the Empire of Light as well. A broad smile spread across Ayaka''s face as she turned to leave, reassured by my promise. Akane waved at me with a smile, following closely behind her. As they disappeared from sight, I began to turn, only to hear a hesitant voice call out, "H-Hey..." Recognizing Rena''s voice, I walked toward her, my steps steady. "What do you wa¡ª" Before I could finish, Rena grabbed hold of me, her hands tugging me down unexpectedly. Chapter 139: Playing a little with Rena As they disappeared from sight, I began to turn, only to hear a hesitant voice call out, "H-Hey..." Recognizing Rena''s voice, I walked toward her, my steps steady. "What do you wa¡ª" Before I could finish my sentence, Rena grabbed hold of me, her hands gripping my shirt as she tugged me down toward her with an urgency that caught me off guard. "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice a mixture of surprise and concern. She looked up at me, her face flushed a deep red, and her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I... It''s all because of you..." she mumbled, her tone tinged with frustration and something else that I couldn''t quite place. "What?" I asked again, this time more softly, trying to understand what she was getting at. "You... You did something to me, and now I can''t even sleep or rest without thinking about it!" Rena''s voice wavered as she spoke, her entire body trembling as if she was struggling to contain a surge of emotions. "W-What did you do to me?!" She was serious, her eyes searching mine for answers, yet filled with a vulnerability I hadn''t seen before. It was clear she was on the brink of something¡ªsomething that frightened her as much as it confused her. I paused, studying her face, trying to decipher what exactly was happening. Had she really somehow developed feelings for me? It seemed almost surreal, yet I couldn''t entirely dismiss the possibility. Perhaps it was my absurd luck at play once more, just like with Courtney, who had also started to develop feelings after spending too much time close to me. But I couldn''t be certain, not yet. Her wide eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears, remained locked onto mine, filled with a mixture of confusion and something far more intense. My gaze drifted downward, following the curve of her neck to the soft rise of her breasts, partially concealed by the delicate blue fabric of her bra. Though her chest wasn''t large, it was undeniably alluring, and the sight stirred something primal within me¡ªa desire to taste and explore every inch of her. "Mnnhnnnn" Rena''s soft moans filled the air as I trailed kisses along her neck, savoring the feel of her warm skin beneath my lips. I continued my path downward, letting my mouth brush over the exposed parts of her breasts, teasing her as I went. At the same time, my hand moved with deliberate slowness along her legs, the silky fabric of her stockings gliding under my fingers. I caressed her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her as I gently spread them apart. "Ahnnn~" Rena moaned lightly, her voice barely more than a whisper, as my touch moved higher, closer to the center of her desire. Her panties were already drenched, the thin fabric clinging to her skin, revealing just how deeply she was affected. Just as I was about to slip my fingers inside her panties, feeling her heat against my fingertips, the tent''s curtain was suddenly yanked open. "Oh yes, Onii-chan! I forgot to tell you about¡ªmhm??!!" "!?" Ayaka''s voice, cheerful and innocent, abruptly cut off as she froze in place, her eyes widening in shock. Akane, who had followed closely behind her, was equally stunned, her gaze fixed on the sight before her¡ªme, poised above a moaning Rena, who was clad only in her underwear, her arms wrapped around my neck as I kissed her exposed skin. "Mnn~ why did you stop...ha!" Rena''s voice trailed off as she followed my gaze, realizing what had caused me to pause. She flinched, her body stiffening as she quickly pulled away, grabbing her discarded clothes to cover herself in a panic. "I-It''s not what you think!" she stammered, her voice shaky as she tried to explain, though it was clear from the looks on Ayaka and Akane''s faces that they were struggling to process what they had just walked in on. Chapter 140: Phoebe is in this world "Mnn~ why did you stop...ha!" Rena''s voice trailed off as she followed my gaze, realizing what had caused me to pause. She flinched, her body stiffening as she quickly pulled away, grabbing her discarded clothes to cover herself in a panic. "I-It''s not what you think!" she stammered, her voice shaky as she tried to explain, though it was clear from the looks on Ayaka and Akane''s faces that they were struggling to process what they had just walked in on. "O...Onii-chan?" Ayaka''s voice trembled as she stared at me, her expression a mix of shock and confusion. Her wide eyes searched mine, desperately seeking an explanation. How could I possibly explain this? I had wanted to test if Rena''s feelings for me were genuine, but somewhere along the way, my own desires had taken over. The fact that Rena hadn''t resisted, that she had been as caught up in the moment as I was, only made the situation more complicated. Rena, her face pale yet flushed, hurriedly stood up, clutching her clothes to cover herself. "This is...not..." Akane, who had been silent up until now, broke the tension with a cold, accusing stare. "Is that what you were doing when you were kidnapped, Rena-san? While everyone was worried about you, you were doing... that?" "No! It''s not like that!" Rena''s voice was frantic, her embarrassment clear as she shook her head, trying to deny Akane''s harsh words. "T-Then what is it?" Ayaka asked, still visibly shaken. Her face was flushed, not just from embarrassment but from the confusion swirling in her mind. "A-Are you two...um, like that?" Her voice wavered as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. "Not really," I replied, trying to sound calm, though I knew the situation was anything but. "Then why were you kissing each other?" Ayaka''s confusion deepened, mirrored by Akane''s troubled expression. Neither of them could make sense of what they had just witnessed. "I... I don''t know..." Rena answered honestly, her voice small, as if she was just as lost as they were. "We were just caught up in the moment. There''s nothing more to it. Let''s leave it at that," I said, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalated further. Ayaka pouted slightly, clearly not satisfied with the explanation but unwilling to push further. Akane, too, seemed upset, her usually composed demeanor showing cracks as she looked between me and Rena. But eventually, they both turned and left, the heavy silence between them speaking volumes. "Yes..." Ayaka hesitated, her gaze flickering over to Akane, who was watching us with a concerned expression. Ayaka took a deep breath before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "Phoebe is in this world..." At her words, a heavy silence fell over us. The name Phoebe struck a chord deep within me, dredging up a flood of memories¡ªsome sweet, filled with laughter and warmth, but others bitter, laced with regret and sorrow. I had never expected to hear her name again, let alone under these circumstances. Ayaka and Akane exchanged a worried glance, aware of the history that lay between Phoebe and me. They had known her long before I did, as their families were close friends. My father had even met and married Ayaka''s mother because of his connection to Phoebe''s father. The bonds between us all ran deep, entangled in a complicated web of past relationships and shared experiences. "Onii-chan?" Ayaka''s voice was tinged with concern as she called out to me, noticing my momentary silence. Akane''s expression mirrored Ayaka''s, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. "Is that true?" I asked, my voice low, as if speaking the words aloud would make them more real. The coincidences were piling up in a way that felt almost surreal. First, my former stepsisters, and now Phoebe? "Yes, Onii-sama," Akane confirmed, nodding solemnly. "She was summoned along with her Class in the Babylonia Empire... We''ve only seen her twice since then, but... it''s complicated..." Her words trailed off, leaving much unsaid. It was clear that there was more to the story, but the details would have to wait for another time. "Babylonia Empire..." I repeated, the name echoing ominously in my mind. Khione had warned me about them, calling it the strongest Empire and advising me to avoid provoking them at all costs. "I see." I replied curtly. "Onii-chan..." "Stop worrying and take care of yourselves. " I said to them before leaving. I hadn''t really time to think about Phoebe. The hardest has yet to come. Chapter 141: The Trojan War: PROLOGUE High above the mortal realms, in the vast and resplendent dimension of the Gods, a meeting of unparalleled importance was taking place. More specifically, this gathering unfolded in the celestial halls of the Olympian Gods¡ªa realm where divine power shaped the very fabric of reality. The air was thick with tension, and the glow of eternal fires reflected off the towering marble pillars, casting long shadows over the gathered deities. The twelve principal Olympian Gods, their presence both awe-inspiring and intimidating, stood at the forefront of the assembly. However, they were not the only ones in attendance. Surrounding them were other great Gods¡ªdeities from beyond Olympus, drawn here by the gravity of the impending crisis. The grandeur of the gathering was immense, a rare convergence of divine forces, called forth by a war that threatened to reshape the very world over which they ruled. The subject at hand was no ordinary conflict. It was a war brewing on the Achaean continent, the land where the Gods of Olympus were venerated, their names whispered in prayers and etched into the hearts of men. This was not the first war to unfold in the lands of mortals, but this one held a particular significance. It was a conflict that, if left unchecked, threatened to tear apart the continent itself, leaving a legacy of devastation for generations to come. Yet, despite the gravity of the situation, the Gods were bound by laws even they could not easily defy. The ancient decrees of Olympus forbade direct intervention in mortal affairs. To involve themselves too openly would disrupt the delicate balance of fate and free will, forces that even the Gods held sacred. Seated at the head of the grand chamber was Zeus, the King of the Gods. His brow furrowed in frustration, and his eyes flashed with the fury of countless storms. Zeus, with his unmatched power and authority, longed to put an end to this war swiftly and decisively. His fingers clenched the arms of his throne, the marble cracking slightly under the pressure. Yet, despite his immense might, even Zeus could not simply decree an end to the fighting. His influence, while vast, had its limits, bound by the same cosmic laws that restrained all Gods. For months, Zeus had tried to manipulate events, pushing mortal kings and heroes toward peace, but it had all been in vain. Both the Greeks and the Trojans remained stubborn, each unwilling to back down, their pride and honor too great to bow to reason. The seeds of this conflict had been planted months ago. What had begun as a hopeful negotiation between the two great powers of the Achaean continent¡ªthe Spartan Kingdom and the Trojan Empire¡ªwas now on the verge of collapsing into bloodshed. Talks of a truce and alliance had been progressing smoothly, much to the surprise of all. He kidnapped Helen, leading her away from her home and her husband, carrying her across the seas toward Troy. In that single act, a fuse was lit. It was the spark that would ignite a conflagration across the entire Achaean continent. When Menelaus discovered his wife missing, the insult and outrage burned hot within him. His fury knew no bounds. It wasn''t simply that his queen had been taken¡ªit was the public humiliation of it, the sheer audacity of Paris to violate the sacred bonds of hospitality, to take what belonged to him under his very roof. Menelaus'' anger boiled over, and he knew there was only one path left to him: war. But Menelaus was not powerful enough to wage such a war alone. His eyes turned to his elder brother, Agamemnon, the King of Kings. Agamemnon, ruler of Mycenae, commanded the loyalty of the most powerful armies in Greece. He was the man Menelaus knew he must call upon, for Agamemnon harbored ambitions of his own. When Menelaus pleaded for his brother''s help, invoking the sacred duty of family and vengeance, Agamemnon listened with an eager heart. For years, Agamemnon had coveted the riches and strategic power of Troy. The city had stood as a symbol of defiance, its people proud and untouchable. Agamemnon had long desired to bring the arrogant Trojans to their knees, to claim supremacy not just over Greece but over all the Achaeans, including the lands of Troy. Now, with Menelaus'' humiliation as the perfect pretext, Agamemnon had the justification he needed to turn his dreams of conquest into a twisted reality. "The insult to our house cannot go unanswered," Menelaus fumed, his voice thick with rage. Agamemnon, with a knowing smile, nodded slowly. "No, brother, it cannot. We will avenge your honor¡ªyour wife will be returned, and Troy will fall." His eyes gleamed with the cold calculation of a man who saw an empire within his grasp. "Call all the kings to my banner," he commanded, his voice thundering through the halls. "Let them come at my demand, for we march to war." With that single order, Agamemnon set in motion a storm that would drench the lands of Achaea and Troy alike in blood and chaos. Chapter 142: Gods Meeting before the Trojan War (1) Zeus sat on his grand throne, his brow furrowed, and his hand pressed against his temple. It was not often that the King of the Gods suffered from headaches, but this one was particularly fierce. A nagging, deep pain throbbed in his skull, a clear warning that something monumental was brewing. His thoughts drifted to the mortal world below¡ªthe continent of humans he ruled over¡ªand a creeping dread filled his immortal heart. Conflict was festering, and he feared the worst for the world of men. As the King of the Olympian Gods, Zeus had carefully chosen not to take sides in the brewing war between the Achaeans and the Trojans. Both nations worshipped the gods faithfully, offering sacrifices and prayers. To him, their devotion made them equals. If anything, he yearned for peace. After countless millennia of war¡ªboth among the gods and men¡ªZeus had grown weary of the endless fighting. He had come to understand the weight of his role as ruler, a role that demanded balance and wisdom above all. Yet, as he cast his gaze around the room at the assembled gods, it was clear not everyone shared his sentiment. "The Trojans should be erased from existence," Hera declared, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Her words were laced with disdain, and her piercing gaze shimmered coldly as she sat beside Zeus, her fingers gripping the armrest of her throne. "I don''t see why we''re even debating how to end this war. The answer is simple." Zeus sighed inwardly, his headache intensifying. Of course, it would be his wife, Hera, who stirred the cauldron of hostility. She had never been one to conceal her hatred for Troy, and the mortals'' conflict had only provided her with a convenient excuse to act on it. "I agree with Hera," came a second voice, cool and composed, yet equally sharp. It was Athena, his wise and warlike daughter, her clear blue eyes gleaming with a dangerous glow. "The Trojans do not deserve our mercy. Menelaus and Agamemnon have always been loyal to us, offering prayers and sacrifices. They deserve our support." Zeus glanced at Athena in mild surprise. His daughter and Hera were not known for their camaraderie¡ªin fact, they often clashed over their differing opinions. Yet now they seemed united in their hatred of Troy, and the reason was all too clear. The seeds of their animosity had been sown months ago when a mortal, Paris of Troy, had been asked to judge a contest of beauty between the goddesses. To Zeus''s dismay, the shepherd prince had chosen Aphrodite as the fairest, snubbing both Hera and Athena. The slight had been a public humiliation, one neither goddess could forgive. A low, derisive laugh escaped Hera, her voice dripping with scorn. She glanced at Hermes with a look that suggested his question was beyond foolish. "What a ridiculous question. The Trojans don''t stand a chance against our heroes," she said, her tone brimming with arrogance. "Achilles, Odysseus, Agamemnon, Diomedes, Ajax, Jason, Heracles... and those are just the names at the forefront. Against whom? Hector? Paris?" She scoffed, her eyes narrowing in disdain. "Don''t make me laugh." The other gods murmured in agreement, nodding their heads. Hera''s point was difficult to dispute. The Achaeans'' ranks were filled with the mightiest of heroes¡ªmen who had been blessed by the gods themselves, warriors whose feats were already the stuff of legend. But before the tension could build further, a sound floated through the air¡ªsoft, yet unmistakably beautiful. The ethereal notes of a lyre echoed in the vast chamber, and the gods turned their heads in unison toward the source. There, sitting with a serene expression and strumming his golden lyre, was Apollo. His beauty was unmatched, with flowing golden hair that shimmered in the divine light, and emerald green eyes that sparkled with a quiet intensity. His features were as flawless as a sculptor''s masterpiece, and even in the midst of such powerful beings, he seemed to shine brighter. A small, enigmatic smile played on his lips as he played his instrument, his fingers gliding gracefully over the strings. Then, without breaking the melody, he spoke, his voice calm yet firm. "I have little interest in wars and bloodshed," he said, his tone betraying none of the excitement or malice that filled the room. Yet, as the final note of his lyre faded into silence, Apollo''s green eyes locked onto Hera, his smile vanishing. "But... I will not stay quiet if anyone dares attack my city." The gods stilled at his words. This was not just an idle remark. It was a warning, veiled in the gentleness of his voice, but no less threatening. Troy was more than just a mortal city; it was the city Apollo himself had helped build, its towering walls erected by his own divine hands. The Trojans worshipped him as their protector, and in return, he held them under his wing. Troy, in many ways, was Apollo''s empire, and he would not let it fall without a fight. Though he was not the type to revel in violence, anyone who sought to bring destruction upon his beloved city would find themselves facing the wrath of one of the most powerful gods on Olympus. For all the strength of the warriors Hera had named, none could ignore the force of Apollo''s declaration. He was, after all, one of the Twelve Olympians¡ªand aside from Zeus himself, many considered him the strongest among them. Chapter 143: Gods Meeting before the Trojan War (2) For all the strength of the warriors Hera had named, none could ignore the force of Apollo''s declaration. He was, after all, one of the Twelve Olympians¡ªand aside from Zeus himself, many considered him the strongest among them. The tension in the hall of the gods was palpable as Apollo''s serious face turned toward Hera. The air felt thick, the divine energy swirling between them, and for a brief moment, the other gods found themselves holding their breath. Even the mighty Ares, who usually thrived in such intensity, glanced sideways. Aphrodite, seated not far from Apollo, allowed a subtle smile to curve on her lips. She was not the strongest among the gods, not by a long shot, but if Apollo, with his immense power and influence, was taking Troy''s side, she could breathe easier. His involvement meant more than just a show of support; it was a declaration of divine protection over Troy. And she knew well that if Apollo sided with Troy, his twin sister, Artemis, would not be far behind. Artemis harbored no love for Hera, and this would only fuel her desire to oppose the queen of the gods. The thought of having both Apollo and Artemis on her side bolstered Aphrodite''s confidence. She cast a sideways glance at Hera, her expression filled with silent amusement. The queen of the gods was furious, that much was clear. Hera''s cold glare burned in Apollo''s direction, and the entire hall seemed to tense in response. At the head of the table, Zeus let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off the headache that was building. The last thing he wanted was to witness his children and wives turning against one another, embroiling themselves in the affairs of mortals. He could already feel the tension creeping through his bones, the kind of tension that only brewed trouble on Olympus. Finally, Zeus raised his hand. His deep voice, filled with authority, cut through the rising chaos. "Silence." The single word resonated like a divine command, and the hall immediately fell quiet. Every god, from Ares to Athena, turned their attention to him, the King of Olympus. "I will not take sides, and neither should any of you," Zeus declared. "This is a war between mortals, and it is for them to settle. Fate will decide the outcome of their conflict, not us." Zeus, as king, had spoken, and in the natural order of things, his decree was law. But the gods were not known for being compliant, not when their emotions and desires were involved. The king knew well that if the gods were to meddle in the war, the consequences would be catastrophic, not just for the humans but for the entire world. Divine intervention would throw the mortal realm into chaos, and Zeus, despite all his power, knew that some battles were better left untouched by gods. Yet, as soon as he had finished speaking, Hera''s fury boiled over. Her eyes, blazing with indignation, locked onto her husband. She could not believe what she was hearing. But at this moment, he didn''t have time to unravel that particular mystery. His focus was on preventing the gods from tearing the world apart in their own petty squabbles. Zeus opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, another voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade. "By the way, did you all hear?" The voice was smooth, almost playful, but there was an underlying malice to it, a darkness that made even the gods shift uncomfortably. "I heard Amaterasu has made peace with Tenebria. Quite the sudden change, don''t you think?" The room turned its attention to the speaker, a figure who had been mostly silent up until now. Dionysus, the god of wine and revelry, sat with a small smile playing on his lips, his long white hair cascading over his shoulders and his brown eyes glinting with mischief. He was always one to stir trouble, to fan the flames of chaos just to see what would happen. "I wonder what''s behind that sudden shift in policy?" Dionysus continued, his tone almost conspiratorial as he glanced around the room. "Doesn''t it make you all a little... curious?" Zeus shot him a stern look. "We don''t have time for your games, Dionysus. Amaterasu isn''t one of us, and her affairs don''t concern Olympus." Amaterasu, the sun goddess of the Japanese pantheon, was a figure of immense power and influence, but she belonged to another realm entirely. The gods of Olympus typically avoided meddling in the affairs of other pantheons, for the sake of maintaining balance between their worlds. Interference in another pantheon''s matters could provoke conflict on a scale that even the gods would struggle to contain. But as Zeus''s words echoed through the hall, Hera''s eyes darkened, her expression sharpening into a deep frown. Something didn''t sit right with her. Khione''s sudden disappearance, Aphrodite''s subtle provocations, and now this news about Amaterasu making peace with Tenebria¡ªit was too much to ignore. A series of seemingly unrelated events were converging, and Hera couldn''t help but feel that there was a hidden connection. Her gaze flickered to Aphrodite, who remained serene, almost unnervingly so. There was something in the love goddess''s calm, in the way she spoke of Khione and Poseidon, that set Hera''s suspicions alight. And then there was the Hero of Darkness... She was certain everything was connected with him. Chapter 144: The Forbidden Seals Secret... A month had passed since the battle against the Heroes of Kastoria had drawn to its conclusion. The chaos that once reigned had given way to a new order¡ªmy order. Through the subjugation of Amaterasu, the mighty goddess herself, I had gained dominion not only over her but also over Kaguya, one of the most powerful forces in the Kastoria kingdom. With their submission, Kastoria had effectively fallen into my grasp. At first, Amaterasu was visibly shaken by her sudden enslavement, the sheer disbelief reflected in her once-imperious gaze. She, a goddess, bound by mere mortal hands. But much like Khione before her, she began to accept the chains fate had shackled her with. Slowly, her defiance dulled, replaced by the resignation that crept into her every movement. Yet, I knew that wasn''t enough. I had once entertained the idea of ''breaking'' them down further¡ªboth her and Kaguya¡ªmanipulating their feelings with my abnormal Luck Stat, twisting their very souls until they developed a perverse, inexplicable affection toward me like Medea had and Amelia and Courtney slowly had started developping. A deep, irrational loyalty borne not from respect but from something far darker. But now, the time for such indulgences had slipped away. Larger threats loomed, and my focus could not waver. I stood in the training room, my body weighed down under the relentless pull of artificially enhanced gravity. The pressure was immense, as though hundreds of kilograms bore down on every fiber of my being. My breath came slow and controlled as I brought the training to an end, my muscles tense beneath the strain. With a wave of my hand, I canceled the gravity spell, the invisible force lifting instantly, allowing me to move freely once more. Walking toward the mirror, I caught sight of my reflection. My chest was bare, revealing a physique honed to the point of perfection. I wasn''t bulky, but every muscle was defined, a testament to my rigorous training. My skin, however, told a different story¡ªlittered with scars. Yet those marks were not what held my attention. It was the cracks. The cracks, spreading across my skin like jagged fissures in broken glass, were far more painful and far more sinister than any scar. They had appeared when I sacrificed fifty years of my lifespan in pursuit of greater power, and since then, they had only grown worse. Now, the cracks marred even my face, a visible sign that my time was running out. If nothing was done, I had only a month left to live. Death seemed inevitable. And yet, I felt no fear. Not even the faintest tremor of dread coursed through me. Perhaps it was because I had already cheated death once, escaping its cold clutches when all seemed lost. Or maybe it was because, deep down, I trusted that I wouldn''t die at all¡ªthat there was still a way out, a way to survive this. I didn''t know. But one thing was certain: I would not allow death to claim me without a fight. In the past month, I had spent almost every waking moment in this space, training relentlessly, pushing my body and mind beyond their limits. I had to grow stronger. I had to reach the strength of the gods themselves¡ªand I had to do it fast. Of course, true power takes time to cultivate, but ever since I enslaved Khione, I''d noticed something remarkable¡ªmy training had started to yield faster results. My progress, which once felt like a slow grind, had accelerated in ways that seemed almost unnatural. It wasn''t just my strength or speed; everything about my abilities was improving at an enhanced rate. "I''m so happy you''ll be there to fight with me..." she purred, her voice dripping with a sweetness. I brushed off the display, my mind focused on more pressing matters. "But I will not fight at the front, nor will I fight alone," I said. "I will intervene when necessary to secure victory¡ªthat''s all." I had no intention of charging headlong into the chaos of the Trojan War. Exposing myself too much would be reckless, especially when I knew what was truly at stake. The gods of Olympus would all be present, that much was certain. If I made too bold a move, if I appeared too much of a threat, it could draw their collective attention. And while I had grown stronger¡ªmuch stronger¡ªI knew my limits. I couldn''t take on multiple gods at once, let alone some of the stronger ones. Still, now that I had been pulled into this game, I wasn''t going to approach it with half measures. The Trojan War was an opportunity, not just a battlefield. I would use it to solve two problems: my deteriorating lifespan and Khione''s imprisonment. She had been under Aphrodite''s so-called protection for some time, cut off from any world, rendered powerless. The reason for her confinement was simple¡ªPoseidon. His control over her had bound her fate, and until he was dealt with, she would remain in chains. "Will Poseidon be there?" I asked, my tone growing more serious as I looked Aphrodite in the eye. Her smile didn''t falter, but her expression sharpened slightly. "No, but if you wish, I can make it happen," she replied, her glowing pink eyes twinkling with mischief and power. I nodded. It was exactly what I wanted. Poseidon was far stronger than I was, of that there was no doubt. But strength alone wasn''t everything. Timing was crucial, and this war was the perfect moment to strike. I would use the confusion, the clash of heroes and gods, to set my plan in motion. Poseidon''s death would not only free Khione but rid me of a powerful enemy who had long stood in my way. The opportunity was too perfect to pass up. "Why do you ask?" Fixing my hair back, I replied. "I want him dead." "!" Aphrodite''s whole body shivered at my words, her cheeks flushing pink as she looked at me as if I was the most amazing thing she had seen in the world. Chapter 145: Discussion with Princess Azariah (1) "What did you say?" Azariah asked, her voice tinged with disbelief as her red eyes locked onto mine, searching for any hint that I might be joking. We were in her chambers, a private and dimly lit room that reflected her taste for understated elegance, with heavy velvet curtains drawn to block out the daylight. I had come here to explain my decision, to tell her about my plan to join the Trojan War, but judging by her reaction, she wasn''t taking me seriously. "I said I''m going to take part in the Trojan War and fight on the side of the Trojans," I repeated, my voice calm and measured, but firm. Her expression didn''t change, but her hands, resting on the arms of her chair, tightened into fists. "Are... you serious?" she asked again, her red eyes narrowing as she scanned my face, seeking some sign of uncertainty, something that might suggest I wasn''t entirely committed to this course of action. "Yes," I answered without hesitation, holding her gaze. Azariah''s head lowered, her hands clenching tighter as her knuckles turned white. She seemed to be wrestling with the weight of my decision, her posture stiff, her lips barely moving as she mumbled, "No... you can''t." I watched her in silence for a moment, studying the tension in her body, the way she avoided my eyes. It was as though she couldn''t bring herself to fully confront what I was saying. With a sigh, I shook my head slightly. "Your opinion doesn''t matter in this. I will take part in the war. It''s important to me. Until now, I''ve helped Tenebria, but this... this is something I must do for myself," I said firmly, my tone making it clear that my decision was final. Her shoulders stiffened at my words, but she still refused to meet my gaze. "I... I am truly grateful for what you''ve done with Kastoria," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "No one else could have achieved that. We might''ve suffered heavy losses without your intervention, and I''ll never deny that. But you did it as the Lord Commander of Tenebria, didn''t you? I gave you that title so you could protect Tenebria." "That''s exactly what I did," I replied curtly, not wanting to rehash the events of Kastoria. She knew I had resolved that situation, negotiating peace and securing our position. "Yes, but..." Azariah finally raised her head, her expression one of desperate frustration. "Now you''re saying you''ll take part in another war¡ªone that has no connection to us, no benefit for Tenebria. How long will you be gone? What if another kingdom attacks us while you''re away?" Her abrupt change of subject caught me off guard. I raised an eyebrow. "Did she tell you?" Azariah chuckled softly, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "No, it was just a hunch," she said, standing up and crossing the room. "She seemed... different. More open. And she kept giving you those heated gazes during meetings." It wasn''t something I could control¡ªnot like I cared if people noticed. "Yes. What about it?" I asked, indifferent. Click The sudden sound of the door locking behind me made me turn my head. Azariah stood by the door, her hand still resting on the lock, her smile taking on a darker edge. "Nothing about it," she said softly, her tone carrying a hint of something more. "What are you doing?" I asked though deep down I already had a sense of what was about to unfold. Azariah froze for a moment, her face flushed with embarrassment as her eyes flickered up to meet mine. "My... duty," she replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with both hesitance and resolve. Slowly, she began to approach me, each step cautious as if weighed down by the significance of the moment. The room seemed to hold its breath as she knelt before me, her head slightly bowed, the space between us charged with unspoken tension. I remained seated, looking down at her in silence. Her hands, delicate but trembling, reached out toward my belt, her fingers brushing the cool metal of the buckle. The faint, metallic clink echoed in the quiet room as she unfastened it with careful precision, her hands moving with a mixture of nervousness and determination. Her gaze never left mine, her breath shallow, as if each movement required more courage than the last. With the belt undone, she lowered my pants, her hands trembling slightly as they slid down the fabric, revealing my body to her. My cock, soft and resting, was now exposed, and for a moment, Azariah paused, her eyes lingering on it. She swallowed, a small gulp breaking the silence, her throat tightening with the weight of what was to come. After a moment''s hesitation, she extended her hand, her fingers brushing against me gently as she took hold of my dick, her touch tentative but growing firmer with each passing second. I leaned back slightly, my gaze never leaving her as I exhaled slowly. "Let the Princess fulfill her duty then." Chapter 146: Discussion with Princess Azariah (2) * After a moment''s hesitation, she extended her hand, her fingers brushing against me gently as she took hold of my dick, her touch tentative but growing firmer with each passing second. I leaned back slightly, my gaze never leaving her as I exhaled slowly. "Let the Princess fulfill her duty then." Azariah wrapped her fingers gingerly around my limp cock, her expression a mix of curiosity and awe, as if she was holding some kind of relic rather than a man''s dick. It was like she had never seen one before, or at least never seen one up this close. Her eyes lingered on it, wide with surprise and wonder, as if she were trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushed a deeper red. Was this her first time? Or was it the unfamiliar closeness that had her so captivated? Despite the awkward tension in the air, her touch sent a ripple of pleasure coursing through me. Her hand was soft, her grip cautious but sure, and I could feel the blood surging downward in response. The quiet room seemed to shrink around us, making the moment feel all the more intense as my dick swelled slightly within her grasp, hardening under the warmth of her fingers. "It''s... It''s getting bigger?" Azariah stammered, her crimson eyes flicking back and forth between my growing erection and my face, seeking some sort of explanation. The disbelief in her voice was almost innocent, like she couldn''t believe what was happening right in front of her. I didn''t answer. I just watched her, waited for her next move, wondering how far her curiosity would take her. She turned her attention back to my now semi-erect cock, her hand trembling slightly as she started to stroke it, her thumb grazing the tip with a hesitancy that bordered on reverence. Her palm wrapped around the shaft, her movements slow and deliberate. It was as though she were learning by touch, exploring me with a kind of fascination that made the experience all the more surreal. Her strokes, though inexperienced, still sent waves of pleasure rippling through my body. And fuck, there was something utterly intoxicating about having a princess¡ªno, this princess¡ªstroking my cock. It wasn''t every day someone of her status would lower themselves to this, and the absurdity of it wasn''t lost on me. Yet here she was, Azariah, her hands working timidly but earnestly on me. I couldn''t help but briefly think back to Adelia, that missed opportunity in the Empire of Light. Should have fucked her when I had the chance. Now that was a regret that stung a little more in hindsight. So, I pushed. "Yes," I confirmed, my tone unyielding. Her gaze dropped down to my cock, now fully swollen and pulsing, precum glistening at the tip like a bead of milk. Maybe that''s what it looked like to her¡ªsome sweet, forbidden thing, but her hesitation told me it wasn''t exactly appealing. Her lips parted as she gulped, swallowing her uncertainty as she moved closer. Her pink tongue slowly darted out from between her soft lips, inching toward the tip of my cock where the precum waited. "Sluuurp~" The sound of her lick sent a shiver through me, and I couldn''t help but let out a low groan. Her tongue, soft and warm, grazed the sensitive tip, scooping up the precum like it was something she was unsure of but willing to taste. The moment stretched out, heavy with tension, and when she pulled back, her brow furrowed in distaste. "S... Sour, it tastes weird," she muttered, her voice tinged with discomfort, her face scrunching slightly. I smirked at her innocence, her raw reaction. "You should get used to it, Princess," I taunted, watching as her face flushed an even deeper shade of red. She turned her gaze away from me, avoiding eye contact, her embarrassment plain to see. But that wasn''t enough. I needed more from her¡ªmore than just this hesitant compliance. Leaning in close, I whispered directly into her ear, letting my warm breath tickle her skin. "How far are you willing to go to secure me, Princess?" My voice was low, a challenge veiled in a question, and I could feel the subtle tremble run through her as she shivered at my words. Azariah clenched her fists tightly, her whole body tensing as she processed the gravity of the situation. "U... Until the end," she finally whispered back, her voice trembling but resolute. That was all I needed to hear. Grabbing her arm with a firm grip, I pulled her toward the bed, dragging her with a forceful urgency that left no room for hesitation. "Ha!" she yelped in surprise as her body landed on the mattress, her red eyes wide with shock. The soft material of the bed barely muffled the thud of her landing, but she had no time to recover before I was on her again. Without a word, I grasped her ankles, yanking her body to the edge of the bed, positioning her exactly where I wanted her. She stared at me, nervous, her breath quickening, her chest rising and falling as uncertainty crept back into her eyes. "W... What are you doing?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with confusion. I knelt before her, my gaze locked on hers, the hunger in my eyes unmistakable. She might''ve known she''d already given herself over to me, but seeing me there, kneeling before her at the edge of the bed, made it all the more real. Her uncertainty lingered, but she didn''t move. She didn''t stop me. Chapter 147: Eating Azariah (1) * I knelt before her, my gaze locked on hers, the hunger in my eyes unmistakable. She might''ve known she''d already given herself over to me, but seeing me there, kneeling before her at the edge of the bed, made it all the more real. Her uncertainty lingered, but she didn''t move. She didn''t stop me. Azariah''s gaze flickered with nerves, her body tense as she watched me, uncertain of what was about to happen. She gripped the fabric of her dress tightly in her hands, knuckles white as if holding onto the last vestiges of control. But I wasn''t about to let her keep that. Not now. Without waiting for permission, I gripped the hem of her dress and began lifting it, slowly revealing more of her smooth, milky legs. Her breathing hitched, and her hands shot out, grabbing my wrist in a weak attempt to stop me. "W...Wait..." she whispered, her voice laced with hesitation, barely managing to meet my eyes. She looked toward the door, her expression filled with apprehension. "I... If someone comes, I... I think later it''s..." She trailed off, the fear of being caught in this compromising position clearly weighing on her mind. I stared at her for a moment, reading the mix of desire and fear in her face. She wanted this¡ªthere was no denying that¡ªbut the thought of someone walking in on us had her panicked. She''d already surrendered, but the humiliation of being caught at her most vulnerable, her most raw, was too much for her to bear. "Don''t worry," I said, my voice low and steady as I trailed my hand up the length of her legs, sending a visible shiver through her body. "That''s why you locked the door, right?" "Hnn~" Azariah bit back a moan as my fingers danced lightly over her skin. Her body betrayed her, reacting to my touch even as she tried to suppress it. She trembled beneath my hand, her resolve wavering, and I could feel her resistance slipping away. With a slow, deliberate motion, I spread her legs wider, positioning myself between them as I pushed the dress higher. The fabric slid upward, revealing her knees, and soon after, the soft curve of her fleshy, inviting thighs. Azariah gasped when my hand found her thigh, her palms pressing against the bed as she let her hands fall away, finally relenting to the inevitable. Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts as I continued lifting her dress, inch by inch, until the fabric was high enough that I expected to find her panties. But when my eyes landed on her, I was met with a sight that made my breath catch for an entirely different reason. I looked up at her, my lips glistening with her cum, a smirk creeping onto my face as I licked them clean, savoring the taste. Azariah averted her gaze again, her face burning with humiliation, unable to meet my eyes despite the undeniable fact that she had given herself over completely. Yet, even in her shame, she clung to her dignity, holding onto the remnants of her status as princess. It made me want to corrupt her even more, to tear down the rest of her defenses until there was nothing left but the raw, unfiltered need she was clearly feeling. "Sluuurp~ sluuuurp..." My tongue continued its work, lapping up her juices like a man starved, and each time I touched her, she responded with another wave of pleasure. "Haaa??haaaa?? hmnnn??yes" Her moans grew more frequent, soft but enough to echo in the room, loud enough for me to hear as I worked. Her body trembled beneath my touch, her hips jerking each time I hit a sensitive spot, her pleasure intensifying. My cock was rock hard by now, throbbing with the need to bury myself inside her, but I wasn''t done yet. Her juices kept flowing, her orgasm building again, and I continued to lick her clean, tasting the sweetness of her pussy as I lapped it up. There was something almost addictive about it, the way her scent filled my senses, sweeter than anything I had tasted before. Khione''s juices were like a divine elixir, a taste I could never forget, but Azariah was a close second¡ªher taste was unique, intoxicating. I let my teeth graze her outer labia, biting down lightly before giving a gentle tug. SPUUUUURT! "Haaaan!" she cried out, her voice breaking as another surge of cum sprayed out, a spurt of her juices splashing against my face like a mini fountain, soaking me. I didn''t flinch; I just let it hit me, my face drenched in her release as I looked up at her. Chapter 148: Eating Azariah (2) * "Haaaan!" she cried out, her voice breaking as another surge of cum sprayed out, a spurt of her juices splashing against my face like a mini fountain, soaking me. I didn''t flinch; I just let it hit me, my face drenched in her release as I looked up at her. Her eyes were glazed over, her body trembling, lost in the haze of pleasure I''d drawn out of her. She looked like she was floating, somewhere between this world and the next, her mind fogged by the relentless waves of orgasmic bliss I had forced upon her. Pulling my head back, I took a moment to observe Azariah as she lay before me, her chest rising and falling with heavy, labored breaths. Each exhale seemed to echo her exhaustion and satisfaction, her body still shivering from the aftermath of her release. Her skin was slick with sweat, glistening in the dim light, the sheen only making her appear more alluring, more irresistible. The sight of her in this state¡ªso vulnerable, so lost in pleasure¡ªonly fueled my desire to go further, to take her completely. Wiping my face with a nearby towel, I discarded it without a second thought, my attention fully locked onto her. Her legs were still trembling, her body unable to settle from the intensity of the orgasm that had just ripped through her. Between her thighs, her cum continued to drip down from her swollen, sensitive pussy, pooling onto the sheets beneath her and even spilling onto the carpet, evidence of just how thoroughly I had worked her. "How are you feeling, Azariah?" I asked, a smirk playing on my lips. "Mnnn~ goo...ood... really... good..." she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, still tinged with the lingering haze of pleasure. Her lips curled into a lazy smile, her body utterly relaxed, her mind seemingly drifting somewhere far from here. The sight of her legs trembling, her body limp, and her juices running freely from her pussy down to the edge of the bed¡ªit was lewd, absolutely filthy, and it drove me wild. Without wasting another moment, I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself in front of her, hands on her hips as I moved her to the center of the mattress. She barely reacted, too lost in the afterglow to offer any resistance. Her eyes were still closed, her expression soft and blissful. "I''m removing your dress. You will feel better without it," I told her. "Hmm," she hummed in response, giving a slight nod, her face still flushed from the pleasure. She wasn''t even paying attention to what I was saying, her mind clearly still caught in the remnants of her orgasm. I smirked, my fingers curling around the fabric of her dress. Instead of taking the time to unfasten it properly, I simply tore it apart, ripping the delicate material right down the middle with ease. The sound of fabric shredding filled the room, but I was careful, making sure not to hurt her as I stripped her bare. The dress fell away in pieces, leaving her fully exposed beneath me. I tossed the tattered remains to the side, my eyes now free to roam over every inch of her body. I took that as my cue. Without warning, I pushed the head of my cock into her pussy, thrusting past the tight, slick entrance. "UGHNNNN!" Azariah''s eyes shot wide open, her face contorted in a mix of shock and pain as my thick shaft stretched her pussy. The sudden intrusion forced a cry from her throat, her body tensing as she tried to adjust to the size. Her tight, untouched slit clung to me, resisting, and I could feel her virgin walls struggling to accommodate my girth. "Just one more," I growled, pushing deeper, my cock sliding further inside her as her body tried to reject the overwhelming sensation. "It H...HURTS! AGHNN! HGNNNN!!!!" Azariah''s voice cracked as tears streamed down her face, her hands gripping the bedsheets so tightly her knuckles turned white. The pain was evident, but I couldn''t stop. Blood leaked out from where my cock had torn through her hymen, the final barrier of her innocence shattered as I claimed her. Pulling back slightly, I gave myself a moment to regain control, watching her wince, her face a portrait of raw emotion¡ªpain, confusion, and something deeper, something primal that was beginning to stir beneath the surface. Then, without hesitation, I thrust back into her, harder, deeper, filling her completely. "AGHNNNNNN!" Azariah let out the loudest groan I''d ever heard from her, her body lifting off the bed as my cock plunged all the way inside her, her mouth forming an ''O'' as the shock of the force hit her. Her whole body trembled as she took the full length of me, and I could feel her walls clenching tight around my cock, her pussy trying to adjust, but the damage was done. A moment later, she collapsed back onto the bed, her body limp as the tension bled out of her. I leaned over her, brushing a strand of her white hair from her tear-streaked face, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "It''s over," I whispered, my lips grazing her ear as I kissed away the salty tears that had fallen in the heat of the moment. "Uuuhnnn, haaan~" Azariah moaned, her voice soft and incoherent, but despite the pain, there was a small, satisfied smile on her lips. The tears still glistened in her eyes, but the worst of it had passed. She was mine now, claimed in every sense of the word, her body no longer her own. I wasn''t finished, not by a long shot. My cock was still buried inside her, hard and throbbing, eager for more, but I paused, remembering how brutal I''d been with Semiramis during her first time. Guilt flickered for just a second¡ªan unusual feeling for me. My emotions had been all over the place ever since being betrayed by the Divine Knights, and I''d been reckless. But after meeting Ayake and Akane, I''d regained some balance, some control over myself I suppose. Azariah, though... she was mine now, in every way that mattered. And there was no going back. I can be all the more rough after she recovered. Now with that done, direction Troy. Chapter 149: Empire of Light before the War (1) The Empire of Light. Within the grand capital, where golden spires reached toward the heavens, the royal castle stood as a monument to the empire''s unshakable authority. Inside the throne room, a space dominated by towering columns and banners adorned with the Empire''s crest, an important discussion was unfolding. A woman stood at the center, her presence commanding. She was ethereal, with long, light blue hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her glasses caught the gleam of the sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows. A faint, knowing smile played on her lips. This was Liphiel, one of the Divine Knights, revered and feared alike. She was more than just an advisor; her words carried the weight of the gods of Light. "How are things progressing?" Liphiel asked. Emperor Philip, seated on the grand throne, looked back at her with a smirk. His regal attire shimmered in the light, the crown resting upon his head a symbol of his nominal power. Yet behind the mask of confidence, there was doubt in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping the arm of his throne. "Everything proceeds as planned," Philip began, though a shadow of uncertainty lingered in his tone. "But is this truly the right course of action? Taking part in a war that does not concern us, joining Goddess Hera''s side in this conflict against the Trojans... Is that wise?" Liphiel''s smile widened, but it never reached her eyes. "There is no need for you to trouble yourself with such concerns, Emperor Philip," she replied smoothly. Her tone was gentle, but there was a dangerous undercurrent. "Your role is to ensure your people follow our will. Remember your place." Though the emperor sat on the grand throne, clothed in the trappings of power, it was nothing more than an illusion. The empire was not truly ruled by Philip; it was under the thumb of the Divine Knights, with Liphiel at the helm. Philip''s gaze faltered. For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then, with a reluctant nod, he acquiesced. "The Heroes are already making their preparations," he said, his voice resigned. "I shall dispatch part of my army to join them in battle, to support their cause." "An excellent decision, Your Majesty," Liphiel responded, a hint of delight creeping into her voice. She had the emperor exactly where she wanted him. Philip hesitated before asking the question that lingered in his mind. "Will you be participating in the war yourself?" Liphiel''s expression darkened, her smile becoming colder. "Indeed," she answered, her voice firm. "Since Radakel''s failure, I have taken it upon myself to oversee the Heroes. It is only natural that I will support them in battle." Philip''s suspicions deepened. He was certain there were other motivations behind the Divine Knights'' eagerness to enter a war that seemed to have little bearing on the Empire of Light. But he knew better than to ask. He would receive no answers from her. Before he could dwell further on his thoughts, Liphiel''s sharp voice cut through the air once more. "And how is your newborn, Emperor?" Lucerus, with wide, innocent eyes, reached his tiny hands toward his mother, his soft giggle filling the room. "Mama!" Nancy''s heart melted, and she nuzzled him affectionately. In that moment, it was as if the world outside the throne room faded into nothingness, leaving only the bond between mother and child. But Liphiel, always vigilant, shifted the conversation back to more pressing matters. "Have you had any word with the Heroes recently, Hero Nancy?" Liphiel asked, her eyes sharp once more. Nancy''s expression faltered slightly, though she quickly masked it with an air of indifference. "Oh, not really," she replied, her voice light but evasive. Ever since her liaison with Emperor Philip had been made public, a deep rift had formed between her and her classmates. Once united in their shared mission, they now viewed her with disdain, unable to comprehend how she could entangle herself with someone so much older¡ªand worse, for motives that seemed anything but noble. The scorn cut deep, but none of her classmates'' reactions stung quite like that of Amelia. The teacher had always believed in protecting her students, had seen it as her duty to shield them from the harshness of the world. But with Nancy, Amelia had failed. This betrayal, this fall from grace, was a wound that Amelia bore like a scar. And after what had happened to Nathan, it felt like another blow, one she wasn''t sure she could recover from. Yet, despite the cold shoulders and judgmental stares, Amelia had not abandoned Nancy. While the rest of her classmates distanced themselves, shunning Nancy as if she had become untouchable, Amelia remained steadfast in her efforts to reach out. She had hoped, in some way, to pull Nancy back from the precipice. But Nancy, it seemed, no longer cared for the camaraderie of her former companions. Her focus had shifted. She had secured her place. In the Empire of Light, Nancy was untouchable, a figure whose proximity to the emperor and her son''s divine lineage made her unassailable. She had everything she needed now: power, influence, and protection. The only real threats to her ascension were those closest to the emperor¡ªhis current empress, her daughter, and, most importantly, his firstborn son, Geoffrey, who was still the legitimate heir to the throne. Geoffrey, sharp and perceptive, had already become wary of Lucerus. He saw the threat in the child''s very existence, in the adoration that his father and the Divine Knights bestowed upon him. There was a storm brewing, and Nancy could feel it on the horizon. The emperor, of course, remained oblivious to the tension between his family members. His love for Nancy and their son blinded him to the growing unease in the royal court. He had no intention of bringing harm to his family, believing that they could coexist peacefully. But Nancy was not so naive. In her mind, she was already plotting. The empress and Geoffrey would not stand aside easily, and she knew that her son''s ascension would not be handed to him without resistance. She needed only to wait for the right moment¡ªthe perfect time to strike, to ensure Lucerus''s uncontested rise to power. Then, she would secure her position not just as the emperor''s consort, but as the mother of the most powerful ruler the empire had ever known. Chapter 150: Empire of Light before the War (2) Outside the towering walls of the royal castle in the capital of the Empire of Light, the training fields bustled with activity. The clang of swords and the grunt of exertion filled the air as the Heroes, clad in armor and determination, honed their skills with relentless focus. It was their final day before embarking on a journey that would take them far beyond the borders of their homeland¡ªto another continent, another world. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their watchful eyes often drifting toward the Heroes. There was something different in the air today, a weight that hung over the fields. The guards, seasoned warriors who had seen much, couldn''t help but admire the discipline and intensity the Heroes displayed. These were not ordinary recruits. They were humanity''s finest, chosen by fate itself, preparing for a conflict unlike any they had ever known. Tomorrow, they would leave the Empire, crossing seas and skies to the distant Achaean Continent¡ªa land ruled by the Olympian gods for thousands upon thousands of years. It was said that the gods themselves had been born and raised there, in a time so ancient it had become more myth than memory. Now, the continent was fragmented, divided into powerful city-states¡ªthe Athenians, the Spartans, and the Trojans, who ruled the farthest reaches of the land. War, true war, awaited them there. The danger was there. They knew the blood that would be shed, the lives that would be lost. That was why the training today carried an edge of desperation. The Heroes pushed themselves beyond exhaustion, knowing that their skills would soon be tested in the fires of battle. The weight of responsibility was heavy, and none of them could afford to falter. Overseeing the field was a striking figure¡ªa woman with fiery red hair that cascaded down her back and piercing green eyes that missed nothing. Her expression was stern, her posture rigid as she watched the Heroes train with the gaze of someone who had seen battle before, who knew the stakes. This was Cecilia, one of the individuals raised and groomed by the Divine Knights themselves. While she was not technically in charge of the Heroes¡ªthat role belonged to Liphiel¡ªCecilia had spent much time among them, becoming a quiet but constant presence by their side. In recent months, she had grown even closer to them, offering more than just guidance¡ªoffering comfort. She had become a moral anchor, especially after the tragedy that had befallen them all. Nathan. His name lingered in the air, even though he was no longer there. The memory of his death had cast a long shadow over the entire group. The gruesome end he met¡ªkilled by Demons who had infiltrated the castle, his blood staining the floor of his room, his clothes left in ruins, and the ashes believed to be his¡ªwas a wound that had yet to heal. His very presence, which had been slight but still noticeable, had evaporated completely. It was as though the world itself had erased him. The boys in the class could only stare in awe, while many of the girls watched with starry eyes and flushed cheeks, admiring not only the strength but also the striking handsomeness of the two most reliable Heroes. Jason, with his golden aura, and Aiden with his fiery presence. However, not all was harmonious within the ranks of the Heroes. Over the months, a rift had formed between those blessed with A-Skills or higher and those with more modest abilities. Jason and Aiden, now considered monsters of strength, represented a gap that many of their classmates knew they could never hope to bridge. The divide grew, and while admiration persisted, so did an undercurrent of envy and frustration. BADOOOM! Suddenly the ground trembled as a thunderous explosion echoed from the distance, the sound rippling through the castle and the surrounding lands. Heads snapped toward the source, eyes widening in shock and fear. In the forest just beyond the castle walls, a massive fireball bloomed into the sky, its flames licking the air hundreds of meters above the treetops. The force of the blast sent a shockwave that rattled windows and even reached the training fields, knocking dust and debris into the air. A hushed silence fell over the onlookers, replaced by the faint murmurs of dread. "She''s at it again," one of the Heroes muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "She really needs to hold back. This is getting dangerous," another classmate whispered nervously. "You wanna tell her that? She''ll roast you alive," a third retorted, wide-eyed. "One day, she''s gonna kill us all," a voice added, half in jest, but the nervous edge in his tone was unmistakable. Everyone knew the source of the explosion. There was only one Hero capable of such devastating fire magic among them. The power of the blast rivaled that of a 6-Star spell, a level of destruction that sent chills through even the most seasoned warriors. They all watched in awe unable to say anything. The person responsible was a Hero after all. Cecilia''s gaze remained fixed on the smoke billowing into the sky, her expression tight with concern. "Courtney..." Chapter 151: Empire of Light before the War (3) In the dense forest behind the royal castle of the Empire of Light, chaos reigned as smoke curled through the charred air and flames flickered menacingly. Once vibrant trees now lay blackened, reduced to brittle skeletons of ash, while the acrid stench of burning wood permeated the air like a suffocating blanket. Amidst the devastation, a lone figure stood¡ªher silhouette both haunting and striking against the backdrop of smoldering embers. Courtney, once just a beautiful girl, had grown into something more, something otherworldly. Her long chestnut hair, tied neatly behind her, framed her face, though the fire''s glow caught the strands, making them shimmer like molten gold. Her deep brown eyes, once warm and inviting, now held a distant, hardened look. The passage of time and the weight of grief had carved a new persona into her delicate features¡ªone of coldness. She had always been beautiful, but over the past months, her physical transformation had made her even more breathtaking, an ethereal embodiment of power and grace. Her once-gentle curves had sharpened into something close to perfection, the kind that left those around her in awe and intimidation alike. The nobles of the castle whispered of her beauty, her classmates noticed the change too, but no one more so than Jason. He couldn''t help but regret every moment he hadn''t pursued her back on Earth. She had once been within his reach, a girl he might have won over. But now, she seemed unattainable¡ªher heart locked away behind an icy barrier no one could penetrate. Jason had tried to rekindle the connection they once shared, tried to regain her affection, but it was futile. The Courtney he had known was gone, replaced by someone he no longer recognized. Her laughter had vanished, her smile a distant memory. Instead, her face remained stoic, her eyes reflecting a pain that none of her classmates dared to ask about. She spent most of her days secluded, training relentlessly in the wilderness, pushing her body to its limits. The only people she ever spoke to were Sienna, Siara, and, occasionally, Aisha. Even then, her words were few, her conversations fleeting. Her classmates had their suspicions about what had caused the drastic change in her. It didn''t take long for them to connect the dots¡ªher descent into silence had begun after the news of Nathan''s death. When she learned of his passing, her reaction had been one of raw, unguarded grief. Tears had streamed down her face, shocking those who saw her, for Courtney had never shown such vulnerability before. In that moment, the depth of her feelings for Nathan became evident, a love far beyond what anyone had suspected. She hadn''t just cared for him as a classmate; she had loved him deeply, perhaps more than was healthy. That love had scarred her, left her hollow, and now, it was as if a piece of her had died with him. The world had lost its light, and so had she. Courtney lifted her gaze to the smoke-filled sky, her eyes glazed with fatigue, as though the weight of her existence was pressing down on her shoulders. The flames that had once roared now crackled softly, the fire reflecting the turmoil inside her. Nine months had passed, but they had brought no relief, no solace. She had continued to exist, but nothing had given her a reason to truly live. Her thoughts drifted briefly to her parents back on Earth. Would she ever see them again? She doubted it. The idea seemed more like a distant dream, something from a past life she barely remembered. Courtney turned her head slightly, acknowledging Siara''s concern with a small nod. "Yes. Sorry," she murmured. Siara took a step closer, her gaze steady but filled with empathy. "Courtney, you''re already strong enough. You know that, right?" In the past months, Courtney had grown stronger¡ªso much stronger that she had risen to the ranks of the elites, despite possessing only an A-Ranked skill. Her abilities had accelerated beyond expectation, to the point where she could easily hold her own against those with S-Ranked or higher skills. Since that night with Nathan, it was as if her very body had undergone a transformation, propelling her strength and speed to unnatural heights. She was now clearly stronger than Siara, despite them both sharing the same rank of abilities. But Siara wasn''t envious¡ªfar from it. She was worried. Courtney''s voice was low, almost resigned. "I know... but it''s not enough." Not enough to ease the rage burning inside her. Not enough to satisfy the unrelenting thirst for vengeance that consumed her every thought. She didn''t know who had taken Nathan from her, but it didn''t matter. When she found them, she would be ready. She would stake everything on that one final act of revenge. Siara''s face softened into a sad expression. She could see the storm brewing within Courtney, the same storm she saw in her older sister and in Aisha. The same obsession with revenge that was slowly eating them all alive. "And after you''ve taken your revenge," Siara asked, her voice barely above a whisper, "what will you do then?" Courtney didn''t answer. She stared at the ground, her lips pressed into a thin line. Because the truth was, she didn''t know. She hadn''t thought that far ahead. She didn''t want to think that far ahead. The only thing keeping her moving, keeping her alive, was the thought of avenging Nathan. Beyond that... there was nothing. Siara sighed, shaking her head. "Please, rest," she urged softly. Without waiting for a reply, Siara turned and walked away, leaving Courtney standing amidst the dying embers of the forest. She still had to check on Aisha, who was struggling even more than Courtney, and her older sister, whose obsession had become the most dangerous of all. Chapter 152: Empire of Light before the War (4) In one of the lavish rooms of the castle, reserved specifically for the Heroes, a soft light filtered through the heavy drapes. Amidst the golden glow, a strikingly beautiful woman with raven-black hair and piercing green eyes lay quietly on her bed, her expression weary and fatigued. Despite the exhaustion etched across her delicate features, there was a peacefulness to her. Beside her, nestled in the folds of the bed''s silken sheets, was a tiny baby girl, her chest rising and falling with the soft, rhythmic breaths of a deep and innocent sleep. Amelia watched her daughter with a faint, affectionate smile¡ªa rare moment of solace amidst the storm of emotions that had plagued her for the past week since the birth. The sheer physical pain of labor had faded, but the emotional weight still lingered, pulling at her. The smile didn''t reach her eyes, not fully. She was in her mid-twenties, yet the recent months had aged her far beyond her years. Becoming a mother hadn''t been something she''d planned for. In fact, nothing about the life she was living now had been part of any plan. Amelia had once been a teacher¡ªa normal, dedicated teacher who loved her job and cared deeply for her students. Before that, she had her fair share of fleeting crushes, but nothing had ever taken root. She had never experienced a truly deep or lasting relationship. There had been men¡ªsome of them nice, others less so¡ªwho had tried to get closer to her, even a few who had tried to force their desires upon her. She had rejected them all swiftly, unwilling to compromise her dignity or her heart. Teaching had been her true passion, and she threw herself into her studies with single-minded determination. The pursuit of her career consumed her, leaving little room for anything else. Relationships, dating, love¡ªthose were things she had unintentionally left behind as her life became centered around her role as an educator. It was a choice she had made, or so she thought. But even after becoming a teacher, she couldn''t deny that the thought of companionship occasionally crossed her mind. Her colleagues often invited her out for dinners, intrigued by her beauty and charm. But even they couldn''t stir anything inside her. They were polite, well-meaning, but dull. None of them truly interested her. And then, Nathan had appeared. Nathan was different. He wasn''t like the others. He had been just a student, a quiet, reserved boy who had been bullied and overlooked by nearly everyone else. Amelia, in her role as a teacher, had noticed him right away. She had seen the pain he tried to hide, the loneliness that clouded his eyes and the slight darkness within them. It was her responsibility to help, and so she did¡ªoffering him guidance, support, and a listening ear. What began as a simple student-teacher relationship slowly evolved into something more. Amelia found herself drawn to him, not just as a teacher helping a troubled student, but as a person deeply touched by his struggles. Everything had changed when they were all summoned into this new world. Their lives had been thrown into chaos, and Amelia found herself as much a victim of this bewildering fate as her students. But she had to remain strong. She was the teacher, after all¡ªtheir moral support, the one they turned to for guidance. So, she donned a mask of strength, pretending to be in control, pretending to be okay when, in reality, she felt as powerless and overwhelmed as any of them. That was when Nathan stepped truly into her life in a way she had never expected. He had reached out to her, sensing the burden she carried, the exhaustion she tried so hard to hide. He offered her the same quiet understanding that she had once offered him. Their conversations, initially simple, became the highlight of her days. Each exchange made her feel lighter, as if Nathan was slowly lifting the weight from her shoulders. The sudden voice broke through the peaceful silence, causing Amelia to instinctively wrap her arms protectively around Sara. But the tension melted away as soon as she recognized the visitor. She let out a sigh of relief. "Empress..." Amelia greeted quietly. Standing in the doorway was Empress Helana, her regal presence softened by a warm smile. "I told you to drop the formalities already," the Empress said, her tone playful yet kind. Behind her, Adelia¡ªa close companion of the Empress¡ªstepped into the room, her eyes immediately drawn to the tiny infant. "She''s so cute," Adelia cooed as she approached Sara, teasingly poking the baby''s cheeks, causing a soft gurgle in response. In the months following Nathan''s death, the Empress and Amelia had grown close. The Empress, once a distant figure of authority, had become a comforting presence in Amelia''s life. Their bond had only strengthened after the breakdown in the imperial family, following the scandal surrounding Nancy''s secret relationship and pregnancy. The Empress, along with her daughter Adelia, had started visiting Amelia frequently, their connection deepening as they shared in the complex emotions of their respective situations. The news of Nancy''s affair and the resulting pregnancy had shaken the entire court. The Empress, furious and feeling betrayed by the Emperor''s lies and secret relation, had distanced herself the Emperor along her daughter. Adelia and the Empress had been walking on eggshells ever since, knowing full well that their positions were precarious. With Nancy''s child potentially threatening the line of succession, only Geoffrey, the Empress''s son, remained steadfast in his duty to protect his claim to the throne. Amelia greeted them with a smile, though a flicker of sadness passed over her features. "I wish I could be with my students," she confessed quietly, her voice tinged with regret. The war had come, and with it, her students were thrust into the chaos of battle. Amelia, once their guide and protector, now felt removed from them, distant. Her authority over them had diminished ever since she had secluded herself following Nathan''s death and her subsequent pregnancy. She knew she couldn''t be the same strong figure for them now, but it pained her all the same. Rumors had circulated throughout the castle about the father of her child. Some whispered that it was the Emperor himself, though those claims were quickly denied by both the Emperor and Amelia. Others speculated it might be one of the guards, but no one knew the truth. Only Amelia knew, and she intended to keep it that way¡ªfor the sake of her daughter, for Nathan''s memory. "You can''t, Amelia," Empress Helana said gently, stepping closer to her. "You''re still recovering. You need to rest and take care of your little girl." Amelia nodded, but there was a sadness in her smile. "Yes..." she agreed softly, though her heart ached for her students, for the life she had left behind. But she couldn''t abandon Sara. Her daughter was all that mattered now¡ªher and Nathan''s daughter. Amelia had to be strong for her. Even though the world outside was filled with conflict, she knew that her future was here, with Sara. And for that, she would endure anything. Chapter 153: Empire of Light before the War (5) "Aren''t they tired of training already?" A small, beautiful creature with vibrant green hair muttered under her breath, her delicate arms crossed in frustration. Her translucent wings flapped idly behind her as she hovered in the air, gazing down at the intense scene unfolding below. Heroes, sweating and straining under the weight of their weapons, were rigorously preparing for the journey ahead¡ªto the land of the Trojans. The creature was Iphlea, a sprite, and the ever-faithful companion of Gwen since the awakening of her skill. Iphlea''s luminous eyes flickered with mild annoyance, contrasting sharply with the serene demeanor of her charge. Gwen sat perched on the balcony''s railing, her posture relaxed, her expression distant. She wasn''t among those training with tireless energy. No, Gwen was simply enjoying the warm embrace of the sun and the soft caress of the breeze that tugged gently at her hair. If it were up to her, she wouldn''t even consider traveling to another continent for a war that held no personal significance. It felt, to Gwen, like a pointless struggle¡ªan exercise in futility where the sole reason to fight was because the call had been made. Duty over desire. She sighed softly, glancing over the bustling courtyard with disinterest. What did she care for the glory of battle? Yet despite her reluctance, Gwen knew she had no real choice. A nagging sense of responsibility gnawed at her, even though the conflict seemed meaningless. Her role as one of the strongest Heroes demanded her participation, whether she liked it or not. It wasn''t only duty that weighed heavily on her mind¡ªit was also the bitter reality of the royal castle, the Empire of Light''s majestic yet hypocritical stronghold. Gwen had hated the palace from the beginning. Its grandeur and beauty were only a thin veil hiding the rotten core of corruption within. The fac?ade of righteousness, the whispered lies, the false promises¡ªit all sickened her. And as time passed, her disdain only grew. Nathan''s death had solidified that. They claimed it was demons, that foul creatures had infiltrated the castle and struck him down. But Gwen knew better. She had sensed the deception in the air, though she had been powerless to act. She could still hear Nathan''s voice echoing in her mind, warning Aisha to be cautious of Radakel. There was something dark lurking beneath the surface. The Divine Knights, in all their shining glory, were anything but trustworthy. And wasn''t it suspicious? Nathan''s death came so soon after Radakel''s failure and Liphiel''s sudden appearance. The whole situation stank of conspiracy. Too many unanswered questions swirled in her mind, leaving her more uneasy with each passing day. The castle had become a suffocating prison, its walls closing in around her. And then there was Nancy¡ªanother mystery that added to the growing discomfort. The scene that unfolded before her was intense. On one side of the training ground, she saw Aisha¡ªan ethereal half-Japanese beauty, her long black hair tied neatly behind her. Lightning crackled around her slender frame as she delivered a flurry of fast, precise blows with her long sword. The air around her buzzed with raw energy, every strike sending arcs of lightning toward her opponent, a Divine Knight. Despite the relentless assault, the knight managed to parry each strike, though beads of sweat glistened on his brow. He was holding his ground, but just barely. They were evenly matched, though Aisha''s exhaustion was starting to show. A thin line of blood trickled down her forehead, and her movements, though still powerful, had slowed. Yet she fought on, pushing her body beyond its limits, unwilling to yield. Then, a loud crash reverberated across the training ground. On the far side of the field, the most violent battle was taking place. Siara''s eyes widened as she saw a blur of movement¡ªa figure moving so fast it was nearly impossible to follow. But she didn''t need to see her clearly to know who it was. Sienna. Siara''s older sister, her long black hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, moved like a whirlwind, her cold blue eyes glinting with a deadly intensity. Sienna, unlike Aisha, wasn''t fighting a single opponent. She was up against three Divine Knights at once¡ªand she was overpowering them effortlessly. It was a sight to behold, both mesmerizing and terrifying. Sienna''s sword moved with blinding speed, each strike carrying enough force to send her opponents staggering back. Her blows were ruthless, calculated, and devastating. Even with the combined strength of all three knights, they were no match for her. They fought desperately, but they were merely trying to survive against the onslaught. Siara felt a chill run down her spine as she watched her sister in action. In the months following Nathan''s death, something had shifted in Sienna. It was as though a part of her had snapped, and she had channeled that pain, that grief, into raw power. Now, she was unstoppable. Sienna had become the strongest Hero in the Empire of Light, surpassing even Jason, the so-called Hero of Light, by miles. She became the trump card of the Empire of Light. Chapter 154: Troy in Chaos (1) The Trojan capital was in chaos. A sense of dread filled the air as word spread¡ªan army, the likes of which had never been seen, was marching toward them. Thousands of soldiers from the middle and western Achaean regions, united under the banner of the Olympian Gods, were closing in. It was an alliance forged in fury, uniting states that had been bitter enemies only months before¡ªSparta and Athens, Corinth and Argos¡ªall now driven by a singular purpose: the destruction of Troy. Inside the royal palace, the throne room buzzed with the anxious murmurs of gathered nobles. Tension was palpable as they debated the looming threat, their voices echoing off the marble walls. Their usually composed faces were creased with worry, and their once confident stances seemed more hesitant with each passing hour. King Priam, the ruler of Troy, sat upon his throne, his expression heavy with the weight of impending war. His regal posture belied the turmoil raging inside him. Next to him, Queen Hecuba, his devoted wife, sat with her hand clasped tightly in his, her knuckles white from the pressure. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, and the deep lines of anxiety etched across her face betrayed her fear. She squeezed Priam''s hand for reassurance, but even he, known for his unshakable demeanor, was visibly struggling to maintain composure. The situation was dire. "It''s all your fault," a harsh voice broke through the tense discussion. Hector, Troy''s crown prince and eldest son of Priam, stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed in anger as he glared at his younger brother, Paris. Hector was the pride of Troy, standing tall and broad-shouldered, with a face that many considered a symbol of nobility and strength. His every move was filled with purpose, his dark eyes burning with fury. He was the city''s greatest warrior, revered by his people and the last hope for the survival of the kingdom. But now, Hector''s eyes blazed with something else: unrelenting rage. For months, he had carried this anger inside him, and it showed no signs of dissipating. How could it? His brother''s recklessness had brought war to their doorstep. Troy, once prosperous and secure, was now on the verge of ruin¡ªall because Paris couldn''t control his desires. Two months ago, a messenger from Sparta had arrived in Troy, offering a peaceful solution¡ªreturn Helen, and the conflict would end. But Paris, driven by pride and his so-called love for Helen, had refused, sealing Troy''s fate and igniting the war that now loomed. "I will never give back Helen!" Paris shouted, his voice filled with conviction. "What if I asked you to give back Andromache? Would you?!" He threw the words like a challenge, dragging Hector''s beloved wife into the argument. Hector''s eyes burned with fury. How dare Paris compare his reckless act of lust with his marriage to Andromache? He clenched his fists, barely able to contain the urge to strike his brother. Andromache, standing beside Hector, glared at Paris with thinly veiled contempt. She had always disliked Paris, and now she despised him. His selfishness had plunged their city into chaos and peril. Before Hector could lash out and strike Paris, their father, King Priam, raised his hand, his voice calm but commanding. "Enough." The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to the king. Priam''s gaze was heavy with thought as he looked from Paris to Hector, his sons standing at odds like two forces of nature. His heart ached at the division between them, but he knew that a decision had to be made. "We won''t give Helen back to them," Priam declared firmly. "This war was inevitable. We all know Agamemnon''s greed. He only needed an excuse, and now he has it. Even if we were to return Helen, Agamemnon would find another reason to attack us." Priam''s words settled over the throne room like a cold wind. He knew King Agamemnon all too well¡ªa man driven by ambition, who lusted for power and wealth. Helen may have been the spark, but Agamemnon would have lit another fire if necessary. The war, Priam believed, was unavoidable. "But, Father..." Hector protested, his fists clenched tightly. More than anything, he cared for his people¡ªthe soldiers who would die, the families who would suffer. The thought of sacrificing their lives for the reckless love of his spoiled brother was enough to drive him mad. Before Hector could continue, the heavy doors of the throne room creaked open, drawing the attention of everyone inside. The room fell into a deep, hushed silence as the newcomer entered. Standing in the doorway was a woman of breathtaking beauty, so otherworldly that mere words could hardly capture it. Her long, golden hair flowed like sunlight, reaching down to the small of her back, and her golden eyes gleamed with a mesmerizing allure. Every inch of her presence commanded attention, as if the gods themselves had sculpted her from the essence of beauty itself. It was Helen. Helen of Sparta, once the queen of Menelaus, but now... Helen of Troy. Chapter 155: Helen of Troy Standing in the doorway was a woman of breathtaking beauty, so otherworldly that mere words could hardly capture it. Her long, golden hair flowed like sunlight, reaching down to the small of her back, and her golden eyes gleamed with a mesmerising allure. Every inch of her presence commanded attention, as if the gods themselves had sculpted her from the essence of beauty itself. It was Helen. Helen of Sparta, once the queen of Menelaus, but now... Helen of Troy. Paris''s face lit up with joy as Helen entered the room. "Helen!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with happiness and relief. To him, she was still the same breathtaking woman who had stolen his heart, her beauty transcending the realm of mortals. But Helen did not even glance in his direction. The enchantment that had once bound her to Paris had long faded. When Paris had used Aphrodite''s divine girdle, capable of making any woman fall madly in love, Helen had been momentarily entranced. Yet the spell had worn off the moment she stepped foot in Troy. By then, it was far too late to change anything. Her fate was sealed. Returning to Sparta, though, was not an option. Helen could only imagine the torment that awaited her there. Menelaus, her husband by forced competition, had been humiliated, and the men of Sparta were thirsty for vengeance. Her marriage to Menelaus had never been of her choosing. When Helen''s beauty became a curse, her father had organized a competition among the most powerful men in the Achaean lands. Menelaus had won, and Helen, against her will, became Queen of Sparta. Menelaus had been patient with Helen, waiting for her to accept him as her husband, but Helen never did. Though their marriage was official, Helen had never given him her heart. She had always been distant, and Menelaus had respected that boundary for a time. But when Paris entered her life and whisked her away, it broke something inside Menelaus¡ªhis trust shattered, his patience turned to fury. Helen had thought, perhaps, that escaping with Paris might offer her some form of freedom from Menelaus, but instead, it only plunged her into deeper despair. She found herself trapped in Troy, hated by both sides. Sparta despised her for betraying their king, and Troy blamed her for bringing the wrath of the Achaeans to their doorstep. Now, she had no home. She could not return to Sparta, where death or worse awaited her. But she was no more welcome in Troy, where whispers of blame and scorn followed her wherever she went. Her beauty, once admired by all, had become a symbol of destruction. Helen had never wanted this war. She had never wanted to be the cause of so much suffering. Now, as she stood before the gathered royals and nobles of Troy, she realized she couldn''t stay silent anymore. The destruction looming over Troy was unbearable, and her presence only seemed to fuel it. With a steady breath, Helen spoke, her voice soft but resolute. "I will go back to Sparta." Hector sighed, though there was no hesitation in his movement. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he nodded in agreement. "Of course not, Mother. We will not run. We will face them." Priam, who had been watching his wife and son with quiet pride, allowed a rare smile to soften his face. He turned to Helen, his voice gentle yet resolute. "You''ve heard them, Helen. Return to your chambers and rest. Our fate does not lie in your hands. Whether you choose to leave or remain, we will fight. The decision is yours, but our path is clear." Helen''s hands trembled as she balled them into fists, her nails digging into her palms. The weight of their words settled heavily on her, but she could not find the strength to respond. Were they pitying her? Did they truly believe she was worth more than the war that raged because of her? Yet, amid her confusion, a faint sense of relief washed over her. For so long, she had felt purposeless, like a mere ornament to be admired, an object of desire that men would kill and die for. She had been praised endlessly for her beauty, but no one had ever truly seen her. All they cared for was the face that launched a thousand ships. And now, even that beauty seemed like a curse, something that had only brought misery and destruction. So why, then, did she still cling to life? What hope was she holding onto? She could not even understand it herself. Before she could sink deeper into her thoughts, the heavy wooden doors to the royal chamber suddenly swung open with a loud bang, drawing all attention to the entrance. There, standing framed in the doorway, was a man whose presence exuded strength and power, his muscular frame imposing and his demeanor commanding. His features were strikingly handsome, reminiscent of Hector, though his aura was more wild, less restrained. "Aeneas," Priam greeted with a smile, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the man. Hector''s expression mirrored his father''s as he stepped forward to greet his kinsman. "Brother," he said, clasping Aeneas''s forearm with a firm grip. Aeneas returned the gesture with a nod. He was renowned throughout Troy as the second-strongest warrior after Hector, a hero in his own right, and his arrival now only further bolstered the confidence of those present. "Aeneas," Hector continued, "what news do you bring?" The younger man turned his attention to Priam, his expression shifting to one of serious intent. "Your Majesty," Aeneas began, "all the mercenaries who answered our call for aid have arrived. They await your command in the courtyard." Chapter 156: Kassandra of Troy " Hector." Aeneas returned the smile before looking at Priam. "Your Majesty. All mercenaries who have answered our calls of support have arrived. They are waiting for us in the courtyard." Priam''s weathered features softened slightly as he gave a small nod. "Good," he said in a measured tone. "Hector, welcome them appropriately." The weight of the impending war bore down on the king''s shoulders, and though he maintained a composed facade, he knew all too well the dire reality they faced. The storm of war brewing on the horizon was not an ordinary conflict; this was a battle in which the greatest heroes of Greece would fight¡ªAchilles, Heracles, and others of legendary prowess. These were men with divine blood and unmatched skill in battle. Troy was at a severe disadvantage, and Priam understood the gravity of it. That is why he had sent messengers to every corner of the known world, summoning the most skilled and renowned mercenaries to their cause. It had been a desperate move, one born of necessity, for few would willingly fight for a distant kingdom like Troy, especially with the looming threat of such formidable opponents. Yet, whatever reinforcements they could gather would be crucial. Even a few more swords could tip the scales, however slightly, in their favor. "Yes, Father," Hector replied with a resolute nod. Without hesitation, he turned and strode purposefully toward the exit, his tall, armored figure cutting a path through the room like a pillar of unshakable strength. As Hector left, Paris hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Helen. "Helen," he called softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. But Helen, her expression unreadable, offered no response. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away, the weight of guilt heavy on her slender shoulders. No matter what they said¡ªno matter how they tried to comfort or absolve her¡ªthe burden of responsibility would never leave her. It clung to her, relentless and suffocating. She knew that when the war began and the blood of soldiers stained the ground of Troy, the guilt would only deepen, seeping further into her soul like a poison. Every life lost, every sword raised in her name, would be another reminder of her part in this tragedy. As the hall emptied and only the king and queen remained, the silence became almost unbearable. Priam sat quietly on his throne, his thoughts dark and brooding. Hecuba stood beside him, her posture rigid, but before either could speak, a shadow stirred from the far corner of the chamber. A figure emerged from the darkness¡ªa woman whose presence seemed both otherworldly and tragic. She was strikingly beautiful, her long red hair cascading down her back like flames, her deep crimson eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and something far more ancient. This was Kassandra, Hector''s younger sister. Since the day of Paris''s birth, Kassandra had pleaded with their family to send him away¡ªaway from Troy, away from the city she had seen doomed in her prophetic visions. Apollo himself had blessed her with the gift of foresight, and with it came terrible dreams, visions of Troy''s destruction, all linked to the boy who now stood at the heart of their troubles. Hecuba, ever the steady force beside Priam, stood up, her posture stiff as she stepped toward her daughter. "Kassandra," she began cautiously, her voice softer now, "you''ve always told us you saw Troy destroyed¡ªturned to ashes." Her eyes searched Kassandra''s face for confirmation. "Isn''t that what you''ve always said?" "Yes, mother!" Kassandra replied, the sudden intensity in her voice betraying her fear. "I saw it. I truly saw it. Years ago, it was clear¡ªthe fall of Troy, its destruction¡ªit was all there. But..." her voice wavered, and she faltered as if unsure of how to continue. She paused, collecting herself before speaking again, more quietly this time. "But nine months ago... the dreams stopped." "Stopped?" Priam''s voice was low, now tinged with a deeper concern. Kassandra nodded, her hands clenching into fists as she struggled to find the right words. "Yes... they stopped completely. For years, I saw everything. The fires, the walls crumbling, the city in ruins. But now... now I don''t dream of Troy anymore. I don''t see what''s to come. I don''t see anything at all." Her voice grew fainter with every word, as though the weight of not knowing crushed her. Hecuba stepped forward, her hand reaching out to Kassandra. "What does that mean? Why did it stop?" She asked softly. Kassandra''s voice trembled as she answered, "I don''t know, Mother. I don''t know why. It just stopped. It''s like the future has become... a void. I can''t see what will happen anymore. And it terrifies me." Her eyes, wide and glassy with fear, looked to her parents for answers they could not give. Hecuba, seeing the vulnerability in her daughter''s usually strong gaze, pulled Kassandra into a gentle embrace. "It''s okay, Kassandra," she whispered, her voice as soothing as the soft touch of her hands. "Perhaps this is a good thing. If the dreams have stopped, maybe it means we have a chance¡ªmaybe the gods have changed their course." Kassandra buried her face in her mother''s shoulder, her arms trembling slightly as she tried to comprehend what was happening. "I... I don''t know..." she mumbled, her voice muffled. "What if it''s worse? What if the silence means something even more terrible is coming?" The uncertainty was gnawing at her, making her feel more lost than she had ever been. Priam, watching them both, felt an unease settle in his chest. The idea of Kassandra no longer being able to see the future, no longer having even the faintest thread of foresight, was unsettling. "Perhaps," he said slowly, as if thinking aloud, "the gods have shrouded the future in darkness for reasons we cannot yet understand. But we mustn''t lose hope." Kassandra pulled back from her mother''s embrace, her red eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "But why?" she asked, almost pleading. "Why nine months ago? Why did it stop so suddenly? I''ve always had the dreams... but now, I''m blind to what''s to come." Chapter 157: The Greek Kings "Lands in sight!" a sailor''s voice rang out, breaking the rhythmic sounds of waves lapping against the ship''s hull. His shout spread like wildfire across the deck, stirring the crew from their tasks and waking those who had been resting. All eyes turned toward the horizon, and there, barely distinguishable against the vast expanse of blue, was the faint outline of land. An island. After a grueling week at sea, with nothing but the endless waters surrounding them, the sight was a balm to their weary souls. The tension that had been building during the long voyage finally began to ease. Murmurs of excitement rippled through the crew, and even the most battle-hardened soldiers aboard felt a surge of anticipation. The shores of Troy were now within reach. The sea was filled with countless ships, their towering sails casting shadows across the water, creating the illusion of a forest of masts stretching into the distance. These vessels were no ordinary ships; they bore the finest soldiers from every corner of the Achaean kingdom. Warriors, each bound by a shared purpose¡ªto wage war under the banner of the Olympian gods. They were the Great Army of the Greeks, assembled to lay siege to the walls of Troy. On one of the largest ships, a young man with sharp, handsome features stood at the bow, his gaze fixed on the distant land. A wide grin spread across his face, his golden hair catching the sunlight as the wind tugged at it. "Troy, at last," he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of triumph and anticipation. This was Jason, the famed Hero of the Argonauts, the man who had once led an intrepid crew on a perilous journey in search of the Golden Fleece. Though his quest had ended in failure¡ªthanks to a mysterious and unwelcome intruder¡ªJason''s renown remained undiminished. His name still held weight across Greece, and now, he had a second chance to carve his place into the annals of history. This time, he would not fail. The war against Troy would be the stage upon which his legend would be reborn, and he was determined to see it through. Beside him stood a figure even more imposing¡ªbroad-shouldered and towering in stature, with muscles that seemed hewn from stone. His skin gleamed in the sunlight, and his eyes were as clear and bright as the sky above them. This was Heracles, son of Zeus, the demigod whose feats of strength and endurance had made him a living myth. Yet despite his reputation, there was an air of disinterest about him as he leaned against the ship''s railing, watching the horizon with a quiet intensity. "Are you ready, Heracles?" Jason asked, his voice filled with the enthusiasm that was conspicuously absent in his companion. Heracles glanced at him, his expression neutral. "Yes, though I have little interest in this war," he admitted, his deep voice resonating like thunder in the wind. He was Agamemnon, King of Mycenae and the undisputed leader of the Greek forces¡ªa man whose very presence demanded obedience. Agamemnon was a sight to behold. Though well into his forties, his muscular frame and sharp gaze revealed the vitality and strength of a man still in his prime. His thick beard framed a face hardened by years of war, and his eyes gleamed with ambition. He was the king of kings, the only one capable of uniting all the disparate Greek forces under one banner. Yet, beneath his calm exterior, Agamemnon was as ruthless as he was calculating. He knew that this war was not just about the fall of Troy but about securing his legacy as the greatest ruler Greece had ever seen. Gathered before him were the greatest heroes and legends of the Achaean world. Each of them renowned, each with a role to play in the coming conflict. Menelaus, King of Sparta, stood at his brother''s side, his face twisted with fury. It was his stolen wife, Helen, that had sparked the flames of this war, and the anger that burned within him showed no sign of waning. His hatred for Paris, the prince of Troy who had taken Helen, was palpable, and he longed for the day when he could spill Trojan blood. Beside him was Odysseus, the King of Ithaca, his sharp eyes scanning the room with a calculating gaze. Known as the most cunning and intelligent man to ever be born, Odysseus was lean and serious, his mind always a step ahead. Where others relied on brute strength, Odysseus relied on wit. Heracles, the towering son of Zeus, stood like a living mountain, his presence almost overshadowing the others. His strength was legendary, and even among this assembly of great men, he was regarded with awe. Diomedes, King of Argos, waited with arms crossed, his handsome face betraying no emotion. He had earned a reputation as a fearsome warrior, and though he remained silent, his mind was already on the battlefield. Standing nearby was Ajax, King of Phthia, whose towering frame and arrogant grin made him nearly as imposing as Heracles. Lastly, there was Nestor, the elderly King of Pylos, who had earned his place at Agamemnon''s side not through brute force but through wisdom. A veteran of countless wars, Nestor now served as an advisor, his vast experience invaluable to the younger leaders. Though his fighting days were behind him, his counsel carried weight in every discussion. Agamemnon''s glowing eyes swept over the assembled heroes. "Shall we begin?" Chapter 158: The Heroes of the Light Empire Faces the Greek Kings "Shall we begin?" Agamemnon asked, his deep voice resonating within the tent, eyes narrowing with impatience. Nestor, the eldest and wisest of the gathered kings, glanced around the tent with a furrowed brow. "Achilles is not here yet," he observed. The air inside the tent thickened. Everyone present knew they were waiting for the most formidable force in their ranks, the man whose very name was a promise of destruction on the battlefield: Achilles. Yet, in this crucial hour, the hero was conspicuously absent. Agamemnon''s face twisted with contempt, his lips curling into a sneer. "I don''t care," he spat. "Let''s start without him." His dismissal was sharp, almost venomous. Agamemnon had always loathed Achilles, that much was clear to everyone. To him, Achilles was insufferable¡ªarrogant, insolent, a warrior who dared to defy the ''king of kings'' without the slightest regard for his authority. Achilles had never bowed to Agamemnon, never recognized his superiority, and that was an unforgivable sin in the eyes of the Mycenaean ruler. But Achilles had never cared for the politics of kings or the egos of men like Agamemnon. He was there for one reason alone: to fight. Glory and battle were his only pursuits, not the petty quarrels of Agamemnon or his brother, Menelaus, who had lost his wife in the most pathetic manner imaginable. Achilles had no respect for such men. "What of the Heroes?" Odysseus asked suddenly, a wry smile dancing on his lips as he leaned forward/ "Heroes?" Agamemnon raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with skepticism. Nestor was quick to clarify, "He speaks of the Heroes from the Empire of Light." At this, Agamemnon let out a short, derisive chuckle, filled with scorn. "Those children? Heroes?" His voice thickened with mockery. "The very idea is laughable. They have no place in the company of real men, men who''ve spilled blood on the battlefield. The only reason I haven''t sent them packing is because they came recommended by the goddess Hera herself. Otherwise, I''d have had their ships burned and left them to swim back to that weak, pathetic Empire of Light." "That''s rather harsh, King Agamemnon," came a sudden, melodic voice, soft yet brimming with an undeniable power. The kings turned, and all eyes shifted to the entrance of the tent. Standing there was a woman of such beauty that the air itself seemed to still in her presence. Her long, shimmering blue hair fell gracefully past her shoulders, and her golden eyes glowed with an ethereal light behind a delicate pair of glasses. Her lips curled into a gentle smile, but there was something dangerous beneath that serene expression, something that made even seasoned warriors shift uneasily. In unison, the kings straightened, their gazes instinctively drawn to her. Agamemnon, for all his arrogance, felt a sliver of wariness. She was not particularly strong in appearance¡ªno armor adorned her, no weapon hung at her side¡ªbut something about her aura demanded respect, if not outright fear. "Our Heroes are more reliable than you may think, King Agamemnon," the woman said, her voice as light as a breeze, yet it cut through the air like a blade. Agamemnon''s eyes narrowed. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice low, though the coldness in his tone was unmistakable. Jason Spencer, unaware of the tension brewing in the room, merely smiled. "Oh?" he said, turning his gaze to the older Jason. "You must be the great Hero Jason, the one who conquered the Golden Fleece. It''s truly an honor to meet you in person." Jason Spencer''s tone was genuine, a reflection of the admiration he had for the myths he had once heard about on Earth. His words were meant to open a friendly conversation, to pay respect to the legendary hero who shared his name. After all, standing before a figure of such ancient renown should have been a moment of camaraderie, not conflict. But the smile on Jason Spencer''s face only deepened the storm brewing in the Greek hero''s chest. Silence fell thick and heavy in the tent. Every king present knew the truth¡ªJason of Greece had not truly ''conquered'' the Golden Fleece. It had been snatched from his grasp in a humiliating defeat by an enemy from Tenebria, a failure that had haunted him ever since. For many, it had been a source of mockery, a stain on his legacy. And now, this boy, this other Jason, was unknowingly treading on old wounds. From Jason of Greece''s perspective, this was no innocent remark. He heard only scorn, mockery laced beneath the polite words. His pride screamed at the affront. How dare this foreigner, this so-called Hero from the Empire of Light, speak to him with such gall? "You bastard..." Jason of Greece growled, his eyes darkening with a murderous glint. He took a step toward Jason Spencer, fists tightening, his rage barely held in check. Jason Spencer''s smile faltered, confusion clouding his features. He hadn''t expected such a hostile reaction, and for a moment, he wondered what he had done to deserve such ire. Sensing the dangerous shift in the atmosphere, Odysseus quickly raised his hand, his calm voice cutting through the rising tension. "Let''s all settle down," he urged, stepping forward in a bid to restore order. "There''s no need for violence. We''re all here for the same purpose, after all." But even as Odysseus spoke, there was a flicker of amusement in the eyes of some¡ªespecially Ajax, who was barely containing his laughter. Diomedes, seated nearby, smirked as well, clearly entertained by the growing tension between the two Jasons. During that brief but charged silence, the flap of the tent stirred once more, drawing the attention of everyone inside. The air shifted, and as the figure stepped in, it felt as though time itself slowed in reverence to her presence. Every gaze was immediately captured, and all eyes turned toward the newcomer. Aisha Nakano. She moved with a quiet grace, her long, raven-black hair cascading down her back like a silken waterfall. The dark locks framed her face, accentuating the striking contrast with her flawless, porcelain skin. Her eyes were a deep brown so dark they seemed almost black. Those eyes, calm held the gaze of everyone in the tent. Her attire was as remarkable as her presence¡ªa beautifully crafted black dress armor that hugged her figure with both elegance and strength. Every curve of the armor was sleek, a blend of form and function that made her appear as if she were both a goddess of war and beauty incarnate. For a long moment, silence reigned as the kings of Greece, men who had fought and commanded armies, found themselves breathless at the sight of her. Even Agamemnon, who ruled as the king of kings and bore little tolerance for distractions, could not hide the flicker of awe that passed through his features. Even Menelaus who had once laid claim to the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen of Troy, found himself captivated by the new arrival. Though in his heart he knew that Helen''s beauty was unrivaled, there was something about this woman, Aisha, that stirred a different kind of admiration in him. Where Helen was a beacon of light and perfection, Aisha was the embodiment of mystery and shadow. Her black hair, her half-Asian features, and her armor¡ªeverything about her whispered of a beauty not bound by the expectations of the world but carved from a different, darker allure. Aisha stood at the entrance of the tent for a brief moment, surveying the gathered kings and heroes with a calm, discerning gaze. Chapter 159: Lyrnessus Even Menelaus who had once laid claim to the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen of Troy, found himself captivated by the new arrival. Though in his heart he knew that Helen''s beauty was unrivaled, there was something about this woman, Aisha, that stirred a different kind of admiration in him. Where Helen was a beacon of light and perfection, Aisha was the embodiment of mystery and shadow. Her black hair, her half-Asian features, and her armor¡ªeverything about her whispered of a beauty not bound by the expectations of the world but carved from a different, darker allure. Aisha stood at the entrance of the tent for a brief moment, surveying the gathered kings and heroes with a calm, discerning gaze. Like Sienna, Siara, Gwen, and Courtney, Aisha had initially refused to come when Liphiel summoned her to greet the Greek Kings. The very thought of standing before those men, many of whom had already leered at her and her classmates, disgusted her. Ever since they had arrived, the Greek warriors, with their hardened bodies and minds warped by years of fighting, had gazed at the young women as though they were divine beings descended from Olympus itself. To them, Aisha and the other five greatest beauties were nothing short of goddesses¡ªa rare and unattainable prize after abandoning their homes for the grueling war. Aisha despised the way those warriors looked at them, as if their beauty was a reward for their suffering. The idea of being objectified in such a crude manner was enough to keep her away, but in the end, her curiosity overrode her disgust. She wanted to witness how these so-called legendary kings and heroes would strategize for a true war, and if they were as mighty as the myths made them out to be. Stepping into the tent, Aisha felt every gaze lock onto her once more, though she had grown accustomed to this reaction. The air was thick with the sound of heavy breathing and silent awe. Liphiel''s smile brightened at the sight of her. "Hero Aisha, you finally came," Liphiel greeted warmly, her eyes reflecting both relief and admiration. Aisha gave a small nod in acknowledgment but said nothing, her expression unreadable. She could already feel the weight of lustful gazes crawling over her skin, one of them more prominent than the rest. Ajax laughed heartily, his coarse voice filling the tent. "That''s for sure, that bastard always craves the bloodshed," he said, referring to Achilles, his words heavy with crude admiration. Odysseus, ever focused on strategy, gestured toward the map once again. "Lyrnessus won''t yet be aware of our early arrival. This is our chance to strike while they''re unprepared. We can take them by surprise and conquer the city with minimal resistance. Let''s not waste time." Before anyone could respond, Liphiel stepped forward. "We will also lend our assistance," she said calmly. Agamemnon''s face twisted in displeasure, his pride wounded. He had never felt comfortable around these outsiders¡ªthe Heroes of the Empire of Light. To him, this war belonged to the Greeks, and no foreign power should outshine his army. "That won''t be necessary," he said curtly, his tone dismissive. Liphiel, unperturbed, offered a knowing smile. "I believe it is necessary, King Agamemnon. If we are to be taken seriously by you and your men, we must prove ourselves on the battlefield. Observe us, and you will understand why the Goddess Hera herself has vouched for us. We do not intend to interfere; we will merely show you our strength." Odysseus nodded in agreement. "I think it''s a good idea, King Agamemnon. Let us see what these Heroes from another world are capable of. It may serve us well to know their strengths." Agamemnon scowled, but with Odysseus aligning with Liphiel, he had little choice but to concede. "So be it," he grumbled. Odysseus, satisfied with the outcome, turned back to Liphiel. "Very well, Lady Liphiel. Prepare your Heroes. We will soon move out." As the tension in the room began to settle, Odysseus glanced at Agamemnon one last time. "I will handle Achilles," he said. There was no need to argue over who would command the strongest warrior among them¡ªOdysseus knew how to motivate Achilles in a way that even Agamemnon could not. Chapter 160: Penthesilea: Amazonian Queen "It is a great honor to stand beside you, the legendary Amazon Queen," Hector said, his voice carrying both admiration and respect. A warm smile spread across his face as he extended his hand toward the striking figure before him--a woman of rare and formidable beauty. Her blond hair, cropped to the nape of her neck and tied back in a practical fashion, glinted in the sunlight. Her skin, bronzed by the sun, gleamed with a sheen of sweat, beads of moisture tracing their path down her toned, muscular form. Despite the armor she wore, it was impossible to overlook the sensual curves of her body, the lithe strength of her limbs, and the raw, untamed power she radiated. She was a warrior through and through, but there was no denying her femininity. Her sculpted arms, the flat expanse of her stomach, and the long, powerful legs hinted at a beauty that rivaled even the most delicate of women, though hers was sharpened by years of battle. This was Penthesilea, daughter of Ares, the God of War. Queen of the Amazons. The name alone struck awe and fear in the hearts of her enemies. The Amazons, a tribe of fierce and unyielding female warriors, were known across the lands for their unparalleled prowess in combat. Agility, strength, and precision were their calling cards, and none wielded them more masterfully than Penthesilea herself. Their society, closed off to men, thrived in isolation. The Amazons raised only their daughters; sons were returned to their fathers after brief, calculated encounters meant only to secure the survival of their people. Their lives were dedicated to battle, to honing their skills as archers, riders, and masters of the blade. And Penthesilea was more than just their Queen by birthright--she was the embodiment of their strength, the spearhead of their fighting spirit. To Hector, her presence here, in Troy, was a blessing beyond measure. With the Greek forces closing in, any edge they could gain was vital. And having Penthesilea on their side was a tremendous boon. Her reputation alone could inspire his soldiers, but her strength in battle would be nothing short of invaluable. He clasped her hand firmly, feeling the solid grip of a warrior who had seen countless battles. "We are fortunate to have such a powerful ally join our cause." Penthesilea''s lips curled into a teasing smile as she shook his hand. "Don''t be so formal, Hector. My reasons for fighting here are far more personal than you might think," she said with a chuckle that hinted at a deeper story, one she chose not to share. Hector''s smile widened, though a flicker of curiosity passed through his eyes. Still, he respected her boundaries. "Nevertheless, welcome to Troy." She released his hand, her expression becoming more serious as she turned her attention to the scene before them. "How are the preparations?" she asked, her sharp eyes scanning the bustling soldiers below. From their vantage point atop the city walls, they could see the full extent of Troy''s defenses. Men moved with purpose, reinforcing the already mighty walls, while others sharpened weapons, prepared catapults, and distributed supplies. The sound of hammers striking stone, the clatter of shields and swords being readied for war, filled the air. There was an almost palpable tension, the city itself brimming with anticipation for the coming battle. For a brief moment, Hector''s breath caught in his throat. The Amazon Queen was a force of nature in her own right--irresistible, dangerous, and alluring. She was the kind of woman most men would die for, and her confidence only made her more desirable. But Hector quickly regained his composure. His hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could go any further. His grip was firm but not harsh. "No," he said, his voice steady, though his pulse raced beneath his skin. "I told you before, Penthesilea. My answer is no." Penthesilea tilted her head, studying him with a mixture of amusement and disappointment, though the gleam in her eyes suggested that she enjoyed the challenge. "Hector, ever the loyal husband," she mused, letting her fingers slide slowly out of his grasp. "Such restraint in the face of temptation. Admirable... and rare." Hector exhaled, his heart pounding as he tried to shake off the heat of the moment. The last thing he needed was to give in to such advances, especially now, with a war looming over them. His loyalty to Andromache, to Troy, and to his people outweighed any fleeting desire. "I won''t betray my wife, not even for you," he said firmly. Before Penthesilea could respond, a voice rang out from behind them. "Hector!" Both of them turned to see Aeneas sprinting toward them, his expression grim and his tone breathless. "What''s happening, Aeneas?" Hector asked, his voice tight with concern as he stepped toward his comrade. "It''s the Greeks!" Aeneas replied, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. "They''ve reached Lyrnessus and begun their assault!" "What?!" Hector''s voice was filled with shock and alarm. He had not expected the Greeks to arrive so soon, and worse yet, their scouts had failed to report the enemy''s movements. Lyrnessus was some distance away, far enough that any help would take time to arrive. But if they delayed, the city could be destroyed before they even had a chance to intervene. He couldn''t let that happen. "We need to move quickly," Hector muttered, his mind racing. "Aeneas, you''re with me. We''ll take a small force and make for Lyrnessus. There may still be time to save the survivors." "Finally, some action!" Penthesilea said, her lips curling into a fierce grin. "I''m coming with you." Hector nodded, knowing that her presence would be invaluable in the skirmish ahead. "Alright. Let''s move. We''ll need speed." He turned, selecting ten of his fastest warriors to join them. He didn''t want to take too many of Troy''s best fighters in case the city was attacked in their absence. It was a delicate balance--saving Lyrnessus while ensuring Troy''s safety. As they prepared to leave, a calm, resonant voice cut through the air. "I will join you as well." Hector, Aeneas, and Penthesilea all turned to see a man approaching. His hair was black as night, and his eyes, a piercing ice blue. Chapter 161: The Mysterious Mercenary Heiron "I will join you as well." My voice rang out, reaching Hector and Penthesilea, catching both of their attentions. They turned toward me, their eyes narrowing as they took in my appearance. Their expressions were a mixture of curiosity and suspicion as they assessed me from head to toe. I had chosen my appearance carefully. My body was of average build, neither too imposing nor too slight. My face, handsome enough to be noticed but not so striking as to draw undue attention, was framed by simple armor--functional, but not ornate. I looked every bit the part of a wandering mercenary, a man with no particular allegiance or cause beyond his own survival. It was the perfect disguise. I needed to fight alongside the Trojans without revealing my true identity as the Hero of Darkness. If word spread, it would only create unnecessary problems for Tenebria. Worse yet, it would draw the eyes of the Gods, and in this war, their attention was the last thing I needed. "Who might you be?" Hector''s voice was calm, though there was an edge of curiosity. His gaze lingered on me, as if he sensed something wasn''t quite right. The Amazon Queen, Penthesilea, was no less intrigued. Her eyes gleamed as she looked me over, as if assessing my potential. "A mercenary," I answered with a shrug, keeping my tone casual. "I''m here for money. The more useful I am, the more I''ll be paid, right?" I deliberately emphasized the greed, the desire for wealth. It was a lie, of course. I had no interest in gold. What I wanted was to test the strength of those I''d soon be fighting. And more than that, I needed to confirm a suspicion--the possibility that my classmates might be here. Not that I cared for most of them, Sienna, Siara, Amelia, Courtney and Aisha. If they were here, I had to know. Hector''s gaze sharpened. "Your name?" He asked. "Heiron," I replied smoothly, my voice steady. "Where are you from?" Another question, this one probing deeper. His eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his tone. Maybe his instincts were telling him I wasn''t just a random mercenary. "I have no country," I said, my voice growing colder. "I travel wherever there''s work. Do you have a problem with that?" My tone was laced with annoyance, intentionally baiting them. The other warriors behind Hector bristled, their hands drifting toward their weapons. One of them, a particularly rash young man, stepped forward, his sword drawn. "How dare you speak like that to Prince Hector?!" Before he could finish his threat, I moved. In an instant, my hand shot out, grabbing his sword by the blade, the sharp edge biting into my palm. But I didn''t flinch. Instead, with a single twist of my wrist, I snapped the blade in half as if it were nothing more than brittle glass. It had taken considerable effort to tame her wild nature, but eventually, she had submitted to me, offering her loyalty and devotion. Hector observed us quietly, a thoughtful look passing over his face before he nodded. "Fine. You will come with us. Get the horses ready!" he ordered his men. "We leave immediately." With the decision made, I motioned for Charybdis to follow me, and we slipped away from the camp, finding a secluded spot away from prying eyes. Once we were alone, I cornered her against the wall of a nearby building, my hands reaching up to remove her mask. As it fell away, her face was revealed--breathtakingly beautiful, with features that could rival any of the great beauties of this world. But she wasn''t just another mortal woman. She was a goddess, and her power shone through in her crimson eyes. Her expression was emotionless, a stark contrast to the intensity of her earlier actions. She stared at me, waiting, as if my words were law. "You need to control your emotions, Charybdis," I said, my hand brushing against her pale cheek. "Hmn~" she let out a soft, almost involuntary moan at my touch, her cheeks flushing as her skin began to shift into a deep blue hue, the telltale sign of her transformation. Without hesitation, I closed the distance between us, sealing her lips with mine in a deep, commanding kiss. Her body shuddered at the contact, her transformation slowing as I asserted control. "Hmn~" Another soft sound escaped her lips, her resistance melting away. My hand slid beneath her dress, fingers tracing her skin until they reached her breasts. I grasped them firmly, feeling her nipples harden under my palm as I massaged her. "Once we reach Lyrnessus, you may eat whoever you wish," I whispered, my voice low. "Is that fine?" Her breath hitched, and she nodded eagerly. "Haa~ yes." Satisfied, I pulled back, watching as her red eyes gleamed with hunger. She needed to get herself under control sometimes and only I could do it. Chapter 162: Lyrnessus Attacked! (1) Lyrnessus. Lyrnessus, a once flourishing town nestled within the Trojan territory, shimmered like a hidden gem in the heart of a war-torn landscape. Its streets were lined with sprawling markets, adorned with vibrant fabrics, aromatic spices, and the echoes of cheerful chatter. The fertile fields surrounding the town stretched into the horizon, a symbol of its prosperity and peace. But now, the serenity of Lyrnessus was under threat. The looming shadow of war crept ever closer. King Euenus sat upon his ornate throne, carved from dark olive wood and gilded with gold. His face, usually calm and dignified, was etched with deep lines of worry, his gaze distant as he contemplated the weight of the message he had just received. Around him, the noblemen of Lyrnessus gathered, their murmurs low but tense, reflecting the fear that gripped their hearts. Euenus was known as a close confidant of King Priam, having stood by his side during the hardest of times. It was no surprise that Euenus had supported Priam''s decision to defy the Greeks and shield Helen, refusing to bow to the invaders'' demands. But now, the price for that decision was at their doorstep. Suddenly, the heavy doors of the hall swung open with a thunderous crash. A guard, his armor smeared with dirt and his face pale and drenched in sweat, stumbled in. He collapsed onto his knees, panting as if the weight of the news he carried was physically crushing him. "Y¡ªYour Majesty!" he gasped, his voice trembling, the desperation clear in his tone. "The Greeks... they are here!" A gasp echoed through the chamber. Noblemen stood in stunned silence, their disbelief palpable. Some clutched the hilts of their swords in reflex, as if expecting the enemy to burst into the hall at any moment. "Wh... what?!" one noble stammered, his voice shaky. "Impossible!" shouted another, his hands gripping the edge of the nearest table, knuckles turning white. "They cannot be here already!" cried a third. "We thought we had more time!" The hall descended into chaos, with the nobles speaking over one another, panic setting in like wildfire. Fear flickered in their eyes, whispers of defeat spreading through the crowd. "What should we do, Your Majesty?" one of the eldest noblemen finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper, seeking guidance in their moment of crisis. Euenus, who had remained silent, slowly rose from his throne. His tall, broad frame cast a shadow across the hall, commanding the attention of every person present. His voice, though calm, carried the weight of unshakable authority. "Our messenger has already been sent to Troy. King Priam will not abandon us," Euenus declared, his words filled with a steady assurance that washed over the room like a balm. "What we must do now is hold the line. We cannot afford to lose ourselves to panic. Prepare the walls! Ready the archers! We must stand firm and fight until reinforcement comes. There is no other choice." As these thoughts churned in his mind, one figure in the enemy''s ranks stepped forward, catching Mynes'' eye. He was a striking man, his red armor shining under the sun, a symbol of authority and strength. But it wasn''t just the armor that sent a chill through Mynes¡ªit was the emblem emblazoned upon it. The Myrmidons. Mynes''s heart skipped a beat. The Myrmidons were legendary warriors, and they followed none other than Achilles, the King of Phthia. Stories of Achilles had long echoed through the lands, each one more daunting than the last. Some whispered that Achilles was even stronger than Hector, a thought that sent waves of unease through those who dared to imagine facing him. But the man who stood before Mynes was not Achilles. The warrior raised his gaze to meet Mynes'' from atop the wall. His expression was calm, almost sorrowful, as if he regretted the violence to come. "I am Patroclus," the man called out. "I speak on behalf of Achilles. In his great generosity, he offers you mercy. Surrender Lyrnessus now, and we swear no harm will come to your people. Open the gates, and bloodshed can be avoided." There was a pleading edge to Patroclus''s words. It was clear that, unlike many of the Greeks thirsting for blood, he did not wish for unnecessary violence. His eyes seemed to beg Mynes to consider his offer, to think of the lives that could be spared. But Mynes''s resolve was firm. He had no illusions about the Greeks. Their promises of mercy were fleeting, fragile words spoken to mask the conquest they sought. He straightened his shoulders, his voice strong as he answered. "I warn you in return," Mynes declared. "Leave Troy''s lands at once, and you might live to see your family again. Stay, and you will not." His words rang out across the walls, and behind him, the soldiers of Lyrnessus erupted into cheers, their voices fierce with defiance. They were ready to fight. They were ready to defend their home. Patroclus looked down, shaking his head slowly, regret flashing briefly in his eyes. Without another word, he turned on his heel and retreated back to the Greek lines. Whatever chance for peace had existed was now gone. "He warned you bastards!" came a mocking voice from the walls above. Aiden, one of the Heroes of the Empire of Light, grinned. Beside Aiden stood Jason, Siara, and Gwen, each prepared for the coming storm. Only Sienna, Courtney, and Aisha had chosen to remain back at the main camp, not really attracted to a random town or maybe they feared what was going to happen to Lyrnessus and didn''t want to take any part in it... The time for diplomacy had passed. The Greeks were at their doorstep, and there was only one thing left to do. "FIGHT!!!" Chapter 163: Lyrnessus Attacked! (2) The earth trembled beneath the relentless march of the Greek army as they surged toward the walls of Lyrnessus. The sound of countless footsteps grew louder, shaking the very foundations of the city. Despite the defenses that lay before them¡ªimposing walls, fortified gates, and the perfect vantage for archers¡ªthey pressed forward without hesitation. Faces twisted with madness, they rushed across the open field, a perfect target for the awaiting defenders. Yet, there was no fear, no hesitation. All that filled their hearts was a thirst for glory and the promise of rewards. Mynes, standing tall atop the battlements, surveyed the scene with grim determination. His eyes moved over the approaching horde¡ªfaces twisted into smirks, wild eyes filled with the lust for battle. He raised his hand high, the signal that his archers had been waiting for. "Archers!" he bellowed, his voice commanding and clear. The archers stationed along the walls moved with precision. They readied their bows, strings pulled taut, arrows poised to strike. The tension was maximum as they aimed high, their arrows glinting like dark feathers against the pale sky. Every man awaited the prince''s next move, their breath held in unison. Mynes watched the Greeks for a moment longer, feeling the weight of the impending clash. Then, with a swift motion, he brought his hand down. "Release!" In perfect synchronization, a storm of arrows shot into the air, darkening the sky like a black cloud of death. The arrows soared high, momentarily blotting out the sun before descending in a deadly arc toward the charging Greeks below. "Shields!" Patroclus''s voice rang out over the battlefield, sharp and steady. The Myrmidons, Achilles'' elite soldiers, moved with flawless discipline. Without a flicker of fear or hesitation, they raised their shields as one, planting their feet firmly into the ground. The arrows slammed into their shields with a cacophony of thuds, but not a single one breached their ranks. Their faces remained impassive, as though the barrage was little more than a passing nuisance. The rest of the Greek army, however, did not fare so well. Composed of soldiers from various regions and armies, they lacked the unshakable discipline of the Myrmidons. Chaos erupted among their ranks as the rain of arrows descended upon them. Screams filled the air as many fell, arrows embedding themselves deep into skulls and throats. Blood sprayed across the battlefield, staining the earth beneath them. Among the few who stood their ground were the Spartans and Athenians, their formations holding firm. Their shields, though less flawless than the Myrmidons'', still managed to block many of the deadly projectiles. They pressed on, determined to break through despite the carnage surrounding them. And then there were the Heroes of the Empire of Light. Unlike the rest of the Greek soldiers, this elite group, numbering only a dozen, had little to fear from the arrows. Siara Parker stood at their center, her staff raised high, glowing with magical energy. She was one of the most skilled mages among them, her magic a sight to behold. Above them, a massive dome of shimmering water floated, rippling and undulating like a protective veil. The arrows that rained down upon her and her comrades were no match for the spell. The water caught them mid-flight, slowing them to a crawl before rendering them completely harmless. Arrows that once fell with deadly intent now floated gently within the dome, suspended like leaves drifting in a still pond. The Heroes moved forward with ease, untouched and unhindered. BADOOOM! The massive gates, once so sturdy and strong, crumbled under the impact. The explosion sent debris flying in all directions as the doors of Lyrnessus were completely obliterated. Rubble scattered across the battlefield, and the path into the city now lay wide open. Mynes stared in shock, his face turning pale as the gravity of the situation sank in. The walls that had protected his people were now nothing but ruins. "E-Everyone! With me! Get down immediately!" Mynes barked out the order, regaining his composure as best as he could. He grabbed his sword and, without hesitation, leapt from the battlements to the ground below, determined to fight with his people in what seemed like the city''s last stand. BADAM! The force of the impact echoed through the streets as Mynes landed hard, only to be immediately met by a vicious attack. "DIE!" Aiden''s voice snarled with malicious glee, his massive sword swinging down toward the prince with lethal intent. Mynes barely managed to react in time, bringing his sword up to parry. The strength of Aiden''s strike sent shockwaves through his arms, and the force of the blow drove him back, sending him crashing into the wall of a nearby house. The structure crumbled from the impact, and dust and debris billowed into the air. "Prince Mynes!" came the horrified cries of his soldiers as they saw their leader nearly buried in rubble. "You Greek bastard!!" one of Mynes'' men roared, his voice filled with rage. Without hesitation, they charged toward Aiden, their fury burning like a wildfire. But Aiden wasn''t alone. His classmates, along with the Greek army, had already breached the walls and now flooded into the city. The once orderly streets of Lyrnessus were now filled with chaos as battle erupted on every corner. The clash of steel against steel rang out like thunder. Soldiers screamed in both rage and pain as the Greeks, driven by bloodlust and the promise of glory, fought with ruthless efficiency. "Protect the city! Protect the prince!!" one of the soldiers shouted desperately, their voice breaking under the strain of battle. Losing Prince Mynes would mean losing the heart and soul of Lyrnessus. Without their leader, the morale of the defenders would shatter like glass, and the city would fall entirely into the hands of the Greeks. "We have to hold until Troy sends reinforcements!" Chapter 164: Lyrnessus Attacked! (3) "They''re breaking through," a soft voice echoed. Atop the city of Lyrnessus, hovering just above the chaos below, stood three figures, gazing down upon the unfolding battle. The once-vibrant city, now drenched in blood and dust, teetered on the edge of collapse. The one who spoke was none other than Aphrodite, the Goddess of beauty and love herself. Her usual radiant charm was dimmed, replaced with an expression of unease as her gaze flickered over the battlefield. Her glossy, auburn curls cascaded over her slender shoulders, and her perfect lips twisted into a frown. It was not often that such mortal affairs disturbed the goddess, but the fall of Lyrnessus gnawed at her. They had already breached the city''s walls. And the one responsible for this breach? Jason Spencer, the Hero of Light, who had wielded his formidable SSS-Skill, the power that had now torn through the defenses of Lyrnessus like paper. "Khione''s Heroes, are they?" Apollo''s voice broke the silence, drawing Aphrodite''s attention. He stood nearby, his golden hair gleaming under the divine light that seemed to perpetually surround him. The sun god bore the same effortless grace as ever, but behind his smile, a flicker of frustration danced in his eyes. Though he remained composed, there was no mistaking the sting of watching a city that worshipped him fall under siege. Yet he wasn''t as distressed as his sister of love. His smile, though calm, was bitter. "It''s my first time seeing Khione''s chosen, but I suppose she made a good pick this time. Too bad she''s not here to watch it unfold." "What of Khione?" It was Artemis who spoke. The Goddess of the Hunt stood apart from her brother, her silver hair flowing like moonlight over her shoulders. Her shimmering green eyes glinted with an intensity that matched her reputation as a warrior. Unlike the others, there was no facade of beauty masking her strength. She was a figure of deadly grace, standing with a confident posture that betrayed no sign of uncertainty. Her attire, a white, flowing Greek tunic, barely reached her knees, leaving her long, milky thighs and strong, athletic legs exposed. She was smaller in stature than most, yet every inch of her exuded a power that could rival even the strongest of the gods¡ªperhaps even Athena herself. Artemis was not one to shy away from war, and today was no exception. She had chosen to side with Troy, not just because of her brother Apollo''s connection to the city, but because the conflict had drawn Hera into its folds. Any chance to thwart Hera, to see the queen of the gods defeated and humiliated, was an opportunity Artemis relished. Apollo turned to his twin sister with a knowing smile, his eyes softening for a brief moment. "I just thought," he began, his tone thoughtful, "if Khione were here, she wouldn''t have allowed her Heroes to be drawn into this senseless war. It has nothing to do with them, yet here they are. Hera took advantage of their involvement, as always." Aphrodite, her earlier frustration fading, let out a small, melodic giggle. "Hera''s always had it out for Khione, hasn''t she? The old witch never misses a chance to torment her." Artemis let out a bitter laugh in response, her voice laced with disdain. "Is there any woman in this world Hera doesn''t hate?" Her words hung heavy in the air, charged with a personal grudge. Artemis'' hatred for Hera ran deep. The goddess of marriage, in her infinite bitterness, had spent centuries blaming other women for the faults of her husband, Zeus. To Artemis, it was the ultimate hypocrisy. Hera''s inability to control her unfaithful husband, her constant blaming of the innocent, grated against Artemis'' very core. If Hera can''t keep her own husband in check, then she has no one to blame but herself. Not the women he seeks. Not her mother. The fault was hers, and hers alone. "Prince Mynes!!" "Gaaah!" Aiden gasped, coughing up a mouthful of blood as the realization of what had just happened sank in. "Aiden!!" One of his friends cried out in horror, their voice filled with shock as they rushed to his side. The sight of their fallen comrade drew the attention of all their classmates, who now stared in disbelief at the scene before them. "YEAAHHH! HAIL PRINCE MYNES!!" The battlefield erupted with jubilant cries as Mynes'' soldiers, once on the verge of despair, suddenly found themselves invigorated by an unexpected and glorious turn of events. The sight of Aiden¡ªone of their most strongest opponents¡ªlying wounded and bloodied, felled by the sheer strength of their prince, sent waves of exhilaration through the ranks. The men who moments before had been struggling against the onslaught of the Greeks now shouted their loyalty, fists raised high, their voices echoing across the city of Lyrnessus. Mynes, standing at the forefront, gazed down at his hand, which still glowed with the faint, divine light of Aphrodite''s blessing. The soft, pink glow pulsed gently, like the heartbeat of a goddess herself. "This is real." Mynes marvelled at the power that coursed through him. His body, once bruised and battered, now felt weightless and invincible. The pain, the exhaustion¡ªgone, replaced by an overwhelming sensation of strength. But more than that, he had heard a voice¡ªa sweet, seductive whisper that lingered in his mind. Aphrodite. There was no doubt. It had been her, the goddess of love and beauty, one of the divine patrons of the Trojans. The realization sent a surge of euphoria through him. A Goddess, not just watching from above but descending to stand by his side, granting him her power. He clenched his fists, feeling his strength swelling with each passing moment. His once wavering spirit was now blazing, ignited by the knowledge that Aphrodite herself had chosen to intervene on their behalf. With renewed determination, Mynes lifted his gaze, locking eyes with his next target: Jason Spencer, the Hero of Light. The man who had spearheaded the assault on Lyrnessus, using his SSS-Rank skill to shatter the city''s defenses. "I will honor your blessing, Aphrodite," Mynes whispered under his breath, his words lost in the roar of battle but felt deeply within his soul. His hand tightened around his sword as he raised his voice for all to hear. "Come on, men! With me!!" "OOOHHHH!!!" The soldiers, fueled by their prince''s unshakable confidence, let out a resounding cheer. Their spirits, which had been crumbling under the relentless Greek assault, surged with new life. They moved as one, their bodies responding to the energy that radiated from Mynes, following him without hesitation. The collective roar of their voices reverberated through the city as they charged forward, ready to reclaim their land, ready to fight for their prince, for Troy, and now, with the divine favor of the gods themselves. On the other side of the battlefield, behind the advancing Greek armies, two figures floated above the chaos, watching with cold eyes. Hera, queen of the gods, her golden eyes sharp and blazing with anger, hovered with an air of menace. Her once serene and regal expression had twisted into one of pure fury. "Aphrodite...you little bitch." Chapter 165: Lyrnessus Attacked! (4) "What the hell just happened?!" Brad gasped, his voice filled with shock as he watched Aiden struggle on the ground, clutching the deep gash across his stomach. Though Aiden wouldn''t die from the wound¡ªhe was a Hero after all, and it would take much more to kill him¡ªthe sight of blood pooling around him was unnerving. Death had been a hair''s breadth away. "I don''t know either, but that guy just got a hell of a lot stronger..." Jason muttered, his eyes locked onto Mynes, who now stood radiating power. His expression turned grim. "Be careful around him. This isn''t the same prince we were fighting before." They didn''t know what exactly had transpired, but one thing was clear: Mynes had become a far more dangerous foe. The pink aura surrounding him was evidence of something divine at play, an unmistakable sign that a god had blessed him, tipping the balance of power in the Trojans'' favor. On the other side of the battlefield, Patroclus watched the events unfold with calculating eyes. Unlike the others, he wasn''t rattled by Mynes'' newfound strength. His gaze lingered on the pink glow surrounding the prince, and he couldn''t shake the thought of divine intervention. A god''s blessing. He had nearly forgotten that they, as Greek Heroes, weren''t the sole protagonists of this grand war. The Greeks, too, had gods on their side, writing their own stories. And they weren''t just facing any mortals¡ªthey were going up against heroes backed by two of the most powerful goddesses: Hera and Athena. Jason raised his sword, its edge gleaming with the power of his summoned light magic. He knew he couldn''t afford to hold back. Not now. If he did, the next swing from Mynes could be his last. He couldn''t allow that. "Alright," he breathed, his voice steadying as the light around him intensified, filling the battlefield with a bright, searing glow. "Seventh Rank Light Magic! Take that!" Jason roared, swinging his sword downward with all his strength, the blade blazing with radiant energy. The air crackled with power as he aimed to crush Mynes in a single strike. But Mynes was faster. With an almost inhuman burst of speed, the prince leapt into the air, his sword pointed straight at Jason as he dived down like a thunderbolt. Jason''s eyes widened in panic, the speed of the attack catching him off guard. But before Mynes could strike, a towering wall of water surged up between them. Siara''s magic. The barrier shimmered, absorbing the force of Mynes'' attack just long enough for Jason to sidestep out of harm''s way. Mynes growled, his momentum barely slowed by the barrier. He shifted his focus, now darting toward Siara. Siara''s breath caught as she saw him charging toward her, and her mind raced to form another defensive spell. But before she could act, a powerful gust of wind slammed into Mynes, throwing him back. He skidded to a stop, regaining his footing swiftly, his gaze snapping toward the source of the wind. Hovering above the battlefield was a figure bathed in a soft golden light¡ªGwen, her blonde hair streaming behind her as she floated effortlessly, a small winged creature flitting beside her. "Be careful he''s strong, Gwen. A Goddess had blessed him," Iphlea whispered to Gwen. "I know. " ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Inside the castle of Lyrnessus, the atmosphere was tense, thick with dread as the sound of battle and screams echoed through the walls. The Greeks had breached the city, and chaos reigned outside. In the throne room, King Euenus sat slumped on his seat, a man defeated by the weight of inevitable loss. The Greeks had shown no mercy to the citizens, cutting down even the defenseless. He had dismissed his guards and attendants, ordering them to flee for their lives, though many had refused, vowing to remain by his side. Despite his command, one person had stayed behind¡ªBriseis. Euenus looked at her, his sigh heavy with resignation. "What are you still doing here, Briseis? I told you to run." SLASH! In an instant, Epistrophus'' arm was severed, and blood sprayed into the air. "GAHHHH!" Epistrophus screamed in agony, staggering back as his lifeblood spilled onto the marble floor. "I commend your bravery," Achilles said coolly, swinging his hand with effortless precision. SPATTER! Before Euenus or Briseis could react, Epistrophus'' head was severed from his body, rolling across the floor, leaving his father to watch in silent horror. His youngest son was gone in an instant. "No...no...." Euenus fell to his knees, his entire body trembling as Briseis rushed to support him. His kingdom was crumbling, his youngest son was dead, probably the eldest as well, and now his last hope was extinguished. "Lyrnessus has fallen. It''s over," he muttered through clenched teeth, wiping the tears from his face as he looked at Achilles, who stood there, unmoved by the devastation he had caused. With nothing left to lose, Euenus bowed his head, his fists shaking. "Kill me...but please, spare her. She has nothing to do with this." Achilles glanced at Briseis, who stared back at him, her eyes filled with defiance. "You have my word," Achilles said after a moment. "No one will touch her." "Thank you," Euenus whispered, a faint glimmer of relief crossing his tear-streaked face. "Your Majesty?! No!" Briseis cried out, shaking her head, unwilling to accept what was about to happen. Euenus placed a trembling hand on her arm. "Please... live for us. You must live for us." Tears streamed down Briseis'' cheeks as she stepped away, her heart breaking. She had no choice but to honor his final wish. Euenus knelt before Achilles, his head bowed in submission. "You are a good king," Achilles said solemnly, truly respecting the old King. "But this is war." SPATTER! With a swift stroke, Achilles ended Euenus'' life, leaving Briseis standing alone in the blood-soaked throne room, her tears mingling with the horror of the moment. The last King of Lyrnessus had fallen. Chapter 166: Lyrnessus Attacked! (5) "He''s too strong!" Jason shouted, his voice trembling with both exhaustion and frustration. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his body was drenched in sweat, the result of pushing his SSS-Skill far beyond its usual limits. His hands tightened around his weapon, muscles trembling from the strain, but he refused to back down. Mynes, standing amidst the chaos, remained unfazed. Since receiving Aphrodite''s divine blessing, he had been holding off their combined assault. His movements were both fierce and smart, as if the goddess herself guided his hand. Around him, the Myrmidons, loyal warriors of Lyrnessus, fought valiantly at his side, though many had already fallen. Despite their efforts, a number of enemies had slipped past Mynes and were now ravaging the city beyond. Fires rose in the distance, and the screams of fleeing citizens echoed through the air. Mynes, however, remained resolute, his focus unbroken. He was buying precious time, sacrificing his strength so that his people¡ªhis innocent people¡ªcould escape the doom that had befallen them. "Sixth-rank water magic!" Siara shouted, raising her staff high. Her voice rang with urgency and desperation as torrents of water manifested, swirling around Mynes like serpents made of liquid force. The water coiled tighter and tighter, seeking to imprison him in a crushing grip. For a brief moment, hope flickered in Siara''s eyes. But Mynes, undeterred, swung his sword in a blinding arc. The blade cut through the enchanted waters as though they were mere vapor, scattering droplets into the air. Siara''s face paled as her energy dwindled. She had poured everything into that spell. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed to her knees, utterly spent. "Siara!" Jason cried, his heart sinking. He saw her fall and rushed forward, abandoning caution as he hurled himself at Mynes in reckless fury. "You''re annoying! Just die!!" Jason''s sword came down in a heavy swing aimed at Mynes'' chest. But Mynes barely flinched. His movements were swift, almost effortless. As Jason lunged, Mynes deflected the blow and retaliated with a fierce punch to Jason''s stomach. The force of the hit sent Jason flying several feet, his body crashing into the dirt with a dull thud. Jason groaned in pain, clutching his abdomen. The sky above them was stained with the hues of sunset, a fitting backdrop to the carnage below. The day was nearing its end, but their battle raged on, seemingly without conclusion. They had known from the start this would be no easy victory, but they had assumed that with their numbers¡ªgreat and powerful¡ªthey would have quickly overwhelmed the city of Lyrnessus, especially after the walls were breached. Yet here they were, hours later, still fighting against this lone man. "I won''t let you destroy my city... my people..." Mynes roared, his voice cracking with emotion. His body was shaking, not from fear but from the weight of the responsibility that pressed upon him. He couldn''t let Lyrnessus fall. Not like this. With a savage cry, he turned his gaze to Patroclus, who stood apart from the others, his expression calm, even amused. "You''re next," Mynes growled, pointing his bloodied sword at Patroclus. Patroclus, however, merely smiled¡ªa thin, knowing smile. Unlike Jason, he wasn''t rushing into battle, his impatience kept in check. He had seen enough. He knew how this would end. Achilles, his companion and leader, had already disappeared into the heart of the city, and by now, Patroclus was certain Achilles had already slain the King of Lyrnessus. It was only a matter of time before the news spread. The citizens would lose all hope, and Lyrnessus would fall, crumbling under the weight of their despair. The battle was, to Patroclus, nothing more than a formality at this point. Suddenly, a figure came rushing toward them, his face pale, streaked with dust and tears. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide with horror. "P-Prince Mynes!" the soldier gasped, his voice thick with emotion. The ground beneath them quaked violently as the sword vanished from view, moving faster than the eye could follow. Mynes didn''t even have a chance to defend himself. The next thing he felt was an unbearable, searing pain ripping through his abdomen. His eyes widened in shock as he looked down, his breath catching in his throat. The blade had struck him directly, embedding itself in his stomach. The force of the blow was catastrophic, sending Mynes hurtling through the air as if he were no more than a ragdoll. His body was flung hundreds of meters away, smashing through buildings, homes crumbling like brittle paper under the sheer impact of his passage. Debris flew everywhere as stone and wood alike were obliterated in his wake, his form leaving a trail of destruction behind him. When his body finally skidded to a halt, a deep, gaping wound replaced his stomach, the flesh torn away by the magic sword''s devastating strike. Blood poured from the massive hole, an unrelenting torrent of red that stained the earth beneath him. Mynes coughed violently, blood spurting from his mouth as his body trembled uncontrollably. His hearing dulled, the chaotic sounds of battle fading into a distant murmur, and soon, even the sensation in his limbs disappeared. He was dying. He should have already been dead. His heart had been obliterated in the attack, destroyed along with most of his torso. And yet, here he was, clinging to life, if only for a few more agonizing moments. Perhaps it was Aphrodite''s blessing that allowed him these final seconds. The goddess had gifted him with strength, and perhaps in her mercy, she was allowing him this small fragment of time before the end. In those fleeting moments, Mynes could hear them¡ªthe cries of his people. The children screaming in terror as they were pulled from their homes, the women assaulted and taken by force, the men butchered in cold blood. His once beautiful city, the proud jewel of Lyrnessus, now lay in ruins, sacked by invaders with no mercy or restraint. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he could not stop them as they rolled down his blood-streaked face. The pain of his wounds was nothing compared to the anguish that gripped his heart. He had failed them. He had failed his father, his people, and even Briseis, who was now likely in the hands of their enemies. "I''m sorry... Father. Everyone..." His voice was weak, barely more than a whisper, each word heavy with sorrow and regret. But as his life ebbed away, a new sound broke through the haze of his dying mind¡ªa voice, soft and gentle, like the soothing wind after a storm. "You did enough, Mynes. Rest." It was a voice he barely recognized, yet it filled him with a strange sense of peace. His eyes, heavy with the weight of death, struggled to stay open, but in the distance, he saw a figure standing over him. The figure was blurred, their features indistinguishable, but Mynes didn''t need to see them clearly to know who it was. He knew. A faint smile touched his lips, a final gesture of acceptance and gratitude, as the last of his strength faded. His eyes closed for the last time, and with that, Mynes, Prince of Lyrnessus, took his final breath. I leave you the rest Hector. Chapter 167: Trojan Rescuers Have Arrived! "Rest well, my friend," Hector murmured, his voice heavy with grief as he knelt beside Mynes'' lifeless body. The once-proud prince of Lyrnessus now lay still, his bloodied armor broken, his face forever frozen in a final, peaceful expression. Hector stared down at him, his heart weighed down by a sorrow that words could not convey. Mynes had been more than just an ally. They had known each other for years, had stood side by side on the battlefield, and had shared countless meals and moments of camaraderie. To Hector, he was not just a fellow warrior but a brother in arms, someone he respected deeply. And now, to see him like this¡ªdefeated, his city in ruins¡ªfilled Hector with deep regret. I should have come sooner. But it was too late now. No amount of regret or guilt could change what had already happened. The city had fallen, and Mynes had died defending it with everything he had. All Hector could do now was honor his friend''s memory and ensure that the survivors of Lyrnessus reached Troy safely, away from the wrath of the Greeks. As Hector pondered over the next steps, Aeneas approached him from behind, his face grim. "Hector," Aeneas said, his voice quiet but urgent, "Achilles'' army is here. They''ve brought others with them¡ªsome of them are quite young, but they''re strong. Very strong." Hector''s expression tightened, his brows knitting together. He had expected Achilles to be among the attackers, but hearing it confirmed sent a cold chill down his spine. Achilles, the greatest of the Greek warriors, was not a man to take lightly. His presence only meant more devastation was on the horizon. "What about the people of Lyrnessus?" Hector asked, though part of him already dreaded the answer. Aeneas''s face darkened further, his features twisting in bitterness and anger. "Most of them... most of them have been killed," he said, his voice strained. "The Greeks showed no mercy. They didn''t spare anyone¡ªnot even the innocent civilians who couldn''t fight. It''s a massacre." His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white as his anger boiled beneath the surface. Hector closed his eyes, letting out a long, pained breath. War... he understood war. He understood the violence and the death that came with it. But this? This was something else entirely. The Greeks had crossed a line, and Hector couldn''t comprehend the senseless brutality they had unleashed on the people of Lyrnessus. Women, children, the elderly¡ªthose who had no part in the conflict were butchered as if they were soldiers on the battlefield. Why? Why such cruelty? The scene around him was a testament to the horror that had unfolded. Blood stained the ground, thick and dark, pooling beneath the bodies that littered the streets. Limbs and corpses lay scattered as far as the eye could see, innocent lives extinguished in a senseless slaughter. The once vibrant city of Lyrnessus was now reduced to nothing more than a graveyard. Aeneas continued, his tone growing more hopeful despite the grim circumstances. "I''ve ordered the others to gather all the survivors behind the city. The carriages are ready to take them to Troy. Several have already begun the journey, slipping away while the Greeks are still occupied. They haven''t noticed our presence yet," he explained. Hector gave a nod of approval. That had been their plan from the beginning¡ªnot to engage the Greeks directly but to save as many of the people of Lyrnessus as possible. It wasn''t about winning a battle here. It was about saving lives. "Good," Hector replied, his voice firm. "We aren''t here to fight. We can''t waste time getting drawn into a battle we can''t win. Focus on evacuating the survivors before anyone realizes we''re here." Patroclus''s expression hardened as he recalled the fierce battle that had delayed them. "There was... a bothersome opponent," he admitted. He couldn''t help but feel a measure of respect for Mynes, the prince who had stood against them for hours despite the overwhelming odds. Mynes had been blessed by a goddess, Aphrodite no less. "Where is Achilles now?" Agamemnon asked. "He''s gone to kill the King. He should be returning soon," Patroclus replied. Agamemnon''s lips curled into a smile. "Good. We''ll continue as planned¡ªthis is just the beginning." His gaze darkened as he thought of Troy, its towering walls built by the hands of gods themselves¡ªApollo and Poseidon. That was his true goal. The fall of Troy would be his ultimate triumph. He did not care for these smaller victories, for these villages and minor cities were mere stepping stones toward his ambition. He had sacrificed too much to turn back now. His own daughter, Iphigenia¡ªhis beloved, his favorite¡ªhad been offered up to the gods to ensure their passage to Troy. There was no turning back. Compassion had no place in him any longer. Only conquest mattered now. As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Agamemnon''s gaze was drawn to a small, beautifully adorned temple standing untouched amidst the chaos. A temple dedicated to Apollo, god of the sun, music, and prophecy. Yet, even this sacred place was not spared from the Greeks'' violence. As he and Patroclus approached, the scene before them unfolded with savage clarity¡ªGreek soldiers, their faces twisted with ugly glee, were desecrating the holy site. The priestesses inside were assaulted ruthlessly, their cries for mercy echoing in the air, while the male priests lay dead at the soldiers'' feet. At the sight of Agamemnon, the soldiers immediately paused in their vile acts. They straightened up and bowed respectfully, fear flickering in their eyes. They knew better than to displease the king, especially one as volatile as Agamemnon. Agamemnon strode inside the temple. The once-echoing cries of panic and pain seemed to fade into an eerie silence as he ignored the men around him, his attention drawn to something¡ªor rather, someone¡ªnear the altar. Kneeling before the statue of Apollo, her back to him, was a young woman. She was dressed in the pure white robes of a priestess, her slender frame framed by the soft glow of the temple''s fading light. Despite the chaos and destruction happening around her, she remained serene, her lips moving in quiet prayer, oblivious to the King of kings approaching. Agamemnon''s footsteps echoed in the stillness as he moved closer. Something about her unwavering devotion, her utter disregard for the carnage behind her, piqued his interest. When he finally stood beside her, his eyes widened in brief surprise. She was beautiful. More than beautiful, even. Agamemnon had seen many women in his life, from noble queens to foreign concubines, but this priestess possessed a radiance that seemed almost otherworldly. Her soft blonde hair was tied back with care, revealing delicate features that spoke of innocence untouched by the horrors outside the temple walls. Her skin was porcelain, unblemished, and she had an air of purity that felt almost unreal amidst the bloodshed. The young woman, with large, luminous blue eyes that seemed to reflect the very skies Apollo ruled over, remained kneeling, hands clasped together in a gesture of prayer. Her voice was low, murmuring words of devotion to her god, completely ignoring Agamemnon''s looming presence. Chapter 168: Astynome The young woman, with large, luminous blue eyes that seemed to reflect the very skies Apollo ruled over, remained kneeling, hands clasped together in a gesture of prayer. Her voice was low, murmuring words of devotion to her god, completely ignoring Agamemnon''s looming presence. "Who are you?" Agamemnon''s voice cut through the silence. She did not answer at first, nor did she turn to face him. For a moment, Agamemnon felt a surge of anger. How dare she ignore him, the King of kings? But just as he was about to repeat himself, she stopped her prayers and slowly rose to her feet. She stood gracefully, her movements fluid like water. When she finally turned to face him, her blue eyes locked onto his, and for the first time in a long while, Agamemnon felt something akin to hesitation. "I am Astynome," she said softly. "The high priestess of Apollo. I offer my prayers to the god, even in these dark times." There was no fear in her voice, no trembling in her stance. She stood before him, as resolute as the statue of Apollo towering behind her. Agamemnon found himself both impressed and irritated. She should be trembling, begging for mercy like the others. "Do you not fear me, girl?" He asked, narrowing his gaze. "Do you not know who I am?" Astynome met his gaze evenly. "You are Agamemnon, King of Mycenae. But my fear is not for men, no matter how powerful they believe themselves to be." She glanced briefly at the statue behind her. "I fear only the gods." Her words, though spoken calmly, carried a weight that struck Agamemnon more deeply than he would admit. For a moment, the image of his own daughter, Iphigenia, crossed his mind. The sacrifice he had made for the sake of this war. The gods had demanded blood¡ªhis blood¡ªand yet they had not spared him from the horrors of this conflict. What had been the purpose of that sacrifice? "You speak of gods as though they will save you," Agamemnon said coldly, masking his momentary discomfort with arrogance. "But where are they now, Astynome? Where is your Apollo? He cannot protect you from what is to come. No god will. They are all with us." Astynome''s eyes flickered with something¡ªa mixture of sorrow and understanding. She took a step closer. "The gods watch, even when they seem silent," she replied. "And they will judge all men, in time. Even you, Agamemnon." For a fleeting second, Agamemnon felt an icy shiver crawl up his spine. He quickly dismissed it. She was just a priestess¡ªnothing more. Yet, something about her gaze lingered in his mind, stirring old fears. "Then they will watch you being defiled by me. You will make for excellent entertainment until I erase you and your kind from existence, Trojans of the world. At least you will have a magnificent view and the honor of sharing the bed of the King of Kings," Agamemnon declared with a smirk, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I wish I could," he murmured, his voice heavy with restrained emotion. "But I cannot intervene directly to save someone. Father watches us closely today, perhaps more than ever. If only someone else steps forward to help her... then, maybe, I could bless him to fight Agamemnon." Artemis frowned, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the situation below. "What about her father?" she asked, pointing to the heartbreaking sight at the temple''s entrance. Astynome''s father knelt on the ground, his once proud figure now bent low in supplication. His hands trembled as he reached out, his voice choked with tears as he begged Agamemnon to spare his daughter. "Please, my King," he sobbed, "take mercy on her. She is innocent, a priestess in service to the gods. Do not take her from Apollo''s temple. I beg of you." Agamemnon glanced at the man with contempt, the faintest curl of a sneer twisting his lips. Without a word, he kicked the old man aside, sending him sprawling to the ground, the sound of his body hitting the stone echoing through the sacred space. "He''s too weak," Apollo said, shaking his head slowly. "Even if I granted him strength, it would be a waste. He wouldn''t stand a chance against Agamemnon." "But she is your priestess, brother. She has served you faithfully," Artemis said. "I know," Apollo replied, his voice low and strained. He did not need reminding. Astynome was one of the few mortals he truly respected, her loyalty and devotion unmatched. "But sometimes, even the gods must let events play out. We cannot always interfere simply because something feels unjust to us." His words rang with the ancient truth known among the immortals. Mortals lived and died, their fates often beyond the direct intervention of gods. To meddle without reason could bring wrath from their father, Zeus, and alter the delicate balance between fate and divine will. "I promise you this, Agamemnon," Apollo said under his breath, his eyes narrowing as they followed the arrogant king dragging Astynome away. "You will not have a peaceful death." Beside them, Aphrodite stood in unusual silence, her expression thoughtful, her lips curved ever so slightly in a smile that neither Apollo nor Artemis could understand. "You won''t have to worry about your priestess for long, Apollo," Aphrodite said softly after a moment, her voice carrying an eerie calm. "It seems fate has already set something in motion." Both Apollo and Artemis turned to her in confusion. "What do you mean?" Artemis asked, her brow furrowed. "What do you see?" Aphrodite''s smile deepened as she gazed at a specific spot near the temple, her eyes gleaming with the certainty of someone who knew far more than she was revealing. Slowly, Apollo and Artemis followed her gaze, their curiosity piqued. Atop the temple of Apollo, a solitary figure stood, outlined against the sky. His silhouette was sharp, cutting a striking image against the backdrop of the heavens. He gazed down upon the unfolding scene below, with an eerie silence. His cold, ice-blue eyes locked onto Agamemnon and Astynome. Chapter 169: Nathans Arrived! "What do you mean?" Artemis asked, her brow furrowed. "What do you see?" Aphrodite''s smile deepened as she gazed at a specific spot near the temple, her eyes gleaming with the certainty of someone who knew far more than she was revealing. Slowly, Apollo and Artemis followed her gaze, their curiosity piqued. Atop the temple of Apollo, a solitary figure stood, outlined against the sky. His silhouette was sharp, cutting a striking image against the backdrop of the heavens. He gazed down upon the unfolding scene below, with an eerie silence. His cold, ice-blue eyes locked onto Agamemnon and Astynome. "Who is that?" Apollo narrowed his gaze, his eyes scanning the lone figure on the temple''s rooftop. His godly senses strained to uncover something¡ªanything¡ªremarkable about the young man standing silently above the chaos. And yet, to Apollo''s confusion, there was nothing immediately extraordinary. No divine aura, no hidden power visible to his immortal eyes. Still, the sensation of danger emanating from the figure was undeniable, unsettling even to the god of prophecy. It was a strange, inexplicable threat that made Apollo''s fingers twitch as if preparing for the worst. Artemis, standing beside him, remained equally silent, her keen eyes fixed on the mysterious man. The huntress goddess, always vigilant, found herself torn between questions. From which side did this man hail? Was he a Trojan ally, a champion sent by the Greeks, or an outsider entirely, observing the carnage like some dispassionate predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike? And if he was Trojan, why wasn''t he intervening? What could he be waiting for, silently watching Agamemnon with those cold, unfeeling eyes? Both gods stood in silence, their minds brimming with questions that found no easy answers. Beside them, Aphrodite watched too, but unlike her fellow deities, her expression remained calm, almost serene. Only she understood what was unfolding, and a slight, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips as the tension in the air grew. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã The journey to Lyrnessus had been long and taxing, with the weight of war looming ever heavier with each passing day. By the time we finally arrived, it was already too late. The city lay in near ruins, its streets littered with the remnants of buildings and lives alike. "Seems we arrived late," I muttered to myself, surveying the destruction with a detached eye. The city was already ninety percent destroyed, and the outcome of this battle, at least for Lyrnessus, was a foregone conclusion. To say I cared about the fate of the city would be an exaggeration. I wasn''t a hero who fought for justice, nor was I moved by the plight of its people. Still, there were some things even I found unacceptable, some lines that couldn''t be crossed without stirring a sliver of moral outrage within me¡ªhowever small that outrage might be. My thoughts turned to the reason I had come here in the first place, and I leaned forward, narrowing my gaze toward the commotion below. "Is she the one?" I whispered, my voice low and careful. "Yes," Aphrodite''s voice echoed in my mind, soft and sultry, answering my telepathic query. "A-Astynome... no... please..." Chryses gasped, his strength spent, falling backward as his outstretched hand tried to reach for his daughter''s fading figure, helpless against the might of Agamemnon''s grip. "Don''t worry, old man," Agamemnon sneered, his voice thick with arrogance as he cast one last mocking glance at the defeated priest. "I''ll take good care of your daughter." His lips curled into a sickening grin, eyes gleaming with anticipation as he dragged Astynome away, indifferent to her father''s suffering. I could easily imagine what he had in mind. The things he and his men had done to the women of Lyrnessus were visible from my view. Beasts, the lot of them. And Agamemnon? He was the worst among them. Whatever cruelty lay ahead for Astynome was clear to me. The Greeks¡ªthey had no restraint when it came to those they conquered. Innocent women were fair game, their fates decided by the whims of soldiers, their dignity stolen as easily as the spoils of war. Astynome was no exception. Just a girl, the same age as Sienna, innocent and unprepared for what was to come. The Greeks... they were unlike any people I had ever known, vastly different from those in the Empire of Light or even Tenebria. They were born and bred for violence, for conquest. Bloodshed was as much a part of their culture as it was their identity, driven by the gods they worshipped¡ªgods whose own lives were filled with chaos and strife. I didn''t care about their background. All of them, whether soldier or commander, were my enemies for the time being. My gaze followed Astynome, her figure shrinking as Agamemnon dragged her farther away. For a moment, I stood still. My mana was hidden, a skill Amaterasu had taught me¡ªone that made me invisible even to those with keen senses. I followed them, my presence masked, my steps silent. Agamemnon was strong, that much was clear. He didn''t become the commander of the Greek forces by accident. But he was not invincible. If I caught him off guard, I could kill him. A quick strike, a clean blow¡ªhis life could end in an instant. Yet, that would mean putting an abrupt end to this war. And for me, that would be disastrous. It was far too soon for the war to conclude. I still had much to gain from the chaos. Killing Agamemnon now would rob me of the opportunities I needed, the chaos that could serve me so well. No. For now, Agamemnon would live. But Astynome... I had to take her back. The only question was how. "L...Leave her!" Just as I was about to act, something caught my attention. My enhanced, picked up on their presence. I knew instantly that Siara and Gwen were nearby as soon as I stepped in Lyrnessus and kept an eye of them since then. The voice I had heard belonged to Siara. I turned my head towards the place, my ice blue eyes narrowing in coldness as I disappeared from my hiding spot, my movements swift. Chapter 170: Siaras guilt Lyrnessus had fallen. The sky over the city was a dull gray, heavy with the smoke of destruction. Fires still flickered in the distance, their embers casting an eerie glow on the devastated town. It was Siara''s first experience of war on such a massive scale, and the weight of it pressed on her chest like a boulder. She had never imagined that being part of an assault on an entire city¡ªlet alone one as large as Lyrnessus¡ªwould feel this overwhelming. It had all begun when Jason led the attack, his immense strength shattering the city''s towering walls with a force that echoed for miles. The defenses of Lyrnessus crumbled like brittle clay beneath his onslaught, paving the way for the Greek soldiers to surge through the breach. The first wave of attackers was relentless, pouring into the city with bloodlust in their eyes. Siara, along with Gwen, Jason, and the rest of their classmates, had taken up arms to meet the Trojan soldiers head-on. The Trojans were desperate, trying to halt the advancing Greeks, buying time for their families to flee the massacre. The tide turned when Gwen confronted Mynes, one of the Trojan leaders. With a swift and brutal battle, Gwen had bested him, his fall shaking the morale of the remaining defenders. Once Mynes was defeated, the resistance crumbled. The will of the Trojans shattered like glass beneath the weight of the Greeks'' relentless assault. Yet even in their despair, they fought on¡ªfought for their children, their homes, and the people still hidden behind the battered walls. Now, it was over. The last defenders had been cut down, and Lyrnessus lay in ruins. The streets that had once been filled with life were now filled with death. Siara stood on the edge of the broken city, staring at the destruction. From where she stood, she could hear the wails of women and children, the anguished cries of those who had lost everything. Guilt crashed over her like a tidal wave, making it hard for her to breathe. She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white. She had known, in the rational part of her mind, that war meant destruction, that it meant lives would be lost. But knowing and witnessing were two very different things. She had fought to protect her comrades, to survive¡ªbut now, standing amidst the devastation, she wondered what kind of monster that made her. Without a word, she began to walk toward the heart of the city. "Where are you going?" Gwen asked. Siara didn''t turn around. "I... I need to see," Siara said. Gwen''s eyes narrowed, watching. She knew what Siara meant¡ªknew that once you saw the aftermath of battle, truly saw it, there was no going back. That was why Gwen had kept her distance, avoiding the heart of the carnage. She didn''t need to see the broken bodies, the scorched homes, to understand the cost of war. But Siara was different. She needed to bear witness, to confront the horror with her own eyes. Gwen thought of stopping her, but in the end, she didn''t. Siara''s footsteps were heavy as she passed through the city gates, her breath quickening with each step. The stench hit her first¡ªthick and suffocating. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. The once lively streets of Lyrnessus were now strewn with debris and corpses. Buildings that had once housed families, shops, and temples were reduced to rubble, their charred remains looming over the streets like gravestones. One of the men chuckled darkly, nudging his companion. "What does it look like? We''re enjoying our reward. Her city''s fallen¡ªshe''s ours now. Losers give everything to the winners, that''s the way it works." He smiled, a lecherous gleam in his eyes. "She''s our prize." "Disgusting," Siara spat, her voice trembling with hatred. "Leave her. Immediately." The men''s eyes flickered with annoyance. They weren''t used to being told no, especially not by a girl like her. "Who are you to tell us what to do?" one of them snarled. "This has nothing to do with you. Go away, little hero, before you regret it." For them, Siara''s presence was a nuisance, nothing more. She was just another obstacle standing in the way of what they wanted. In their twisted minds, they believed that as victors, they had earned the right to take whatever they wanted. Morality meant nothing to men like these. The strong ruled, the weak suffered. That was the way of war. Siara''s heart pounded in her chest, her breath ragged with fury. She didn''t care about their logic, their entitlement. This was wrong, and she wasn''t about to let it happen. Not while she still had breath in her lungs. "I said," she growled, leveling her staff at them, "leave her. Now." Her voice dripped with venom. If words wouldn''t stop them, she was ready to resort to force. Her fingers twitched, ready to summon magic if necessary. The hypocrisy of her situation wasn''t lost on her¡ªafter all, she had just helped destroy this city. But it didn''t matter. She would not let this happen. Before she could unleash her magic, one of the men moved faster than she anticipated. With a swift motion, he lunged at her, his rough hand closing around her wrist like a vice, yanking her staff from her grasp. "Leave me!" Siara shouted, thrashing in his grip, but the man only grinned, his eyes gleaming with a sickening hunger. "Feisty one, aren''t you?" he sneered, yanking her closer. "Look at you. You''re really hot, aren''t you?" His hand tightened, and he glanced at his companion. "How about this, hero? You come play with us, and maybe we''ll let this one go." Siara''s blood ran cold. Her body stiffened in revulsion as she glared at them, her eyes blazing with fury. "Let me go!" she screamed, thrashing harder, but the man only tightened their grip. "Ha! Don''t be so shy about it! Come on, let''s have some fun!" one of the men sneered, yanking Siara closer as if she were some kind of prize. His grin widened as he pulled at her, his fingers digging into her arm with a cruelty that made her skin crawl. The other man, still clutching the Trojan girl, hesitated, glancing uncertainly at his companion. "Are you sure? She''s from that Empire, isn''t she?" There was doubt in his voice, a flicker of unease. The first man laughed, brushing off the concern with an ugly grin. "Who cares? No one will ever know. I''ll take this one, and you can finish with the Trojan. They''ll just think she was caught by the Trojans. No one''s gonna ask questions." His words dripped with malice, his gaze locking onto Siara with a hunger that made her stomach twist in revulsion. Siara''s entire body tensed, a shiver running down her spine. She wasn''t strong physically¡ªher strength lay in magic, in her mind. But now, trapped in this nightmare, she couldn''t cast anything. The man''s grip on her arm was tight enough to crush her bones if she tried. Her breath quickened as the man''s hand reached for her, his rough fingers hovering too close. Siara''s expression turned from anger to pure horror as his hand moved closer to her face. But just as his hand was about to make contact, the air in the room changed. The temperature plummeted. Chapter 171: Seeing Siara after nine months... The temperature plummeted. In an instant, the stifling heat of the war-torn city vanished, replaced by a bone-chilling cold that swept through the house like a wave. The shift was sudden and unnatural, the air itself becoming icy, almost suffocating. The man''s hand froze in mid-air. Both men''s eyes widened in confusion, their breath visible in the sudden cold. Siara''s own breath came out in short, ragged gasps as the frost crept over the room. It was as if winter itself had descended upon them in the blink of an eye. The cold crept through the house like a predator, as the walls and floor slowly turned to ice, frost spreading in intricate patterns across every surface. The air grew heavy and biting, each breath visible in the sudden chill. Siara shivered, her breath catching in her throat as the change overcame the room. "W..what''s happening?!" one of the men stammered, his voice trembling as he scanned the room, panic seeping into his words. "I don''t know! I''m not doing anything!" the other man snapped back, his grip tightening around Siara''s arm. He glanced around frantically, eyes wide with fear. "Is that you?!" He demanded, glaring at Siara, who stood still, her attention fixed elsewhere, her gaze drawn upward as if she sensed something they couldn''t. Her breath quickened as a presence¡ªcold, distant, and ominous¡ªmade itself known from above. "Where are you looking?" The man growled, yanking Siara closer. His voice dripped with anger, but his bravado wavered. Suddenly, a deafening crash echoed through the house. BADOOM! The ceiling above them split and shattered, sending debris raining down in a cloud of dust and stone. The force of the explosion sent Siara and the two men stumbling, instinctively shielding their eyes from the sudden burst of chaos. When they finally looked up, the dust was still swirling in the air like a curtain, veiling the figure that had just landed before them. A young man stood in the clearing dust.. His black hair fell neatly over sharp, ice-blue eyes that glowed faintly, cold. He appeared unremarkable in appearance¡ªan ordinary man in his early twenties¡ªbut there was something about him that made the very air around him feel dangerous. A chilling aura radiated from him. "Thi...this guy is bad news..." the man holding the Trojan girl muttered under his breath, his grip slackening as fear began to gnaw at his nerves. His hand trembled as he released her, pushing her toward the stranger as if offering her up could save him from whatever fate awaited. "What? You want them too?" The other man asked, his voice shaky as he tried to keep the situation under control, but it was clear he was grasping at straws. He laughed nervously, dragging Siara forward by the arm. "Let''s share them if you want that much?" Siara took a step back, her legs trembling as she struggled to comprehend the horrifying spectacle she had just witnessed. Her breath came in shallow gasps, fear clenching her chest tightly. She couldn''t speak¡ªher voice was trapped somewhere between shock and terror. This man, this stranger in front of her, had just destroyed two people effortlessly, as if they were nothing more than brittle statues. He was the strongest person she had ever seen in her life, and the fear that gripped her heart now told her that she might be next. Her mind raced, wondering if he would turn on her. She had been with the Greeks, after all¡ªmaybe he saw her as an enemy too. "S-she tried to help me... please, spare her..." the Trojan girl who had been seized earlier whispered, stepping forward cautiously. She could see Nathan''s eyes had shifted toward Siara, but she misunderstood his gaze. She thought he was going to kill her too, just as he had done with the two men. Desperation rang in her voice as she pleaded for Siara''s life. But Nathan wasn''t thinking about slaughtering his stepsister. He was simply looking at her, his ice-blue eyes softened just slightly with recognition. It had been months¡ªtoo many months¡ªsince he had last seen Siara. And now, here she was, standing before him, but she was different. She didn''t carry the same vibrance he remembered. Her face was pale, her expression dark and haunted, as though she hadn''t slept in weeks. The joy that once radiated from her had dimmed, and Nathan couldn''t help but wonder if she still remembered him, if she still thought of him the way she once had. He wanted to speak, to tell her something, but words escaped him, leaving only silence between them. Siara seemed scared. Of course Nathan was wearing another face to leave Tenebria out of troubles so for Siara he was just a dangerous and scary stranger but maybe he thought Siara could recognize him. Siara was looking back at Nathan scared but something felt strange inside her. She didn''t recognise him, she had no idea who he was yet that cold gaze, she had seen once or twice years ago when she was getting adopted...but she didn''t remember where exactly... Suddenly, a wave of instinct washed over Nathan. Without hesitation, he grabbed the Trojan girl and pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her. In a single fluid motion, he leapt, just as something tore through the air behind them. A powerful gust followed, whipping through the house with devastating force. The house crumbled under the pressure, the walls disintegrating in a violent gust of wind. Debris exploded outward, shattered wood and stone flying in all directions, destroying what little remained of the structure. But despite the destruction, Siara remained unharmed, sheltered by a protective barrier of wind that enveloped her. Nathan landed outside the now-demolished building, holding the Trojan girl securely in his arms. His sharp eyes darted upward, scanning the sky for the source of the attack. And then, he saw her. Floating above the ruins of the house was a figure of great beauty. Her long blonde hair billowed in the wind, and her piercing green eyes locked onto Nathan with a cold, familiar intensity. She hovered gracefully. It had been a while since he had last seen her as well. Gwen Lawrence. Chapter 172: Nathan vs Gwen Floating above the ruins of the house was a figure of great beauty. Her long blonde hair billowed in the wind, and her piercing green eyes locked onto Nathan with a cold, familiar intensity. She hovered gracefully. It had been a while since he had last seen her as well. Gwen Lawrence. Beside her was a small, green-haired creature, flitting about like a fairy, her wings shimmering faintly in the dim light. I recognized her from long ago, though her presence was still somewhat foreign to me. Iphlea, her name was. Gwen''s little companion, likely born of her SS rank skill. Since Gwen had obtained that power, it seemed she had gained more than just strength¡ªthis tiny, whimsical creature had appeared at her side. The delicate figure of Iphlea floated closer, her wide eyes narrowing in my direction before they widened in astonishment. "I... I can''t believe it, Gwen... he can see me..." Iphlea''s voice trembled, barely a whisper, but the shock was clear in her tone. Her gaze darted back and forth between Gwen and me, her expression a mix of disbelief and fear. I wasn''t supposed to see her? "Really?" Gwen''s voice was calm, yet even she raised an eyebrow in surprise. Her usual composure was momentarily disturbed, her brow furrowing as she glanced from me to her nervous companion. "This guy... he''s bad news. You can''t beat him, Gwen. Let''s retreat," Iphlea urged, her voice strained with apprehension. The little creature''s eyes were filled with dread as she turned to Gwen, practically begging her to leave. She wasn''t wrong. Gwen couldn''t defeat me¡ªnot here, not now. And I hoped she will retreat instead of fighting me. I was no longer a classmate. I was a mercenary for Troy, bound to its cause. If it came to a fight, I wouldn''t be able to completely hold back. I didn''t want to fight her, though. Gwen had always been different¡ªaloof, yes, but in her own way, she had helped me before. She didn''t seek recognition for her actions, but I had noticed. I always had. In class, she was one of the few who had somewhat helped me, even if only indirectly. I respected her for that. I met Gwen''s eyes, coldly. Run. Don''t make me do this. For a brief moment, she seemed to waver, as if considering Iphlea''s advice. But then, a voice shattered the tension. "Gwen!" Siara''s voice rang out as she emerged from the wreckage of the house, her face alight with relief at the sight of the floating blonde girl. Siara and Gwen, closer than I had imagined. It seemed in the nine months that had passed since the last time I saw them, something had changed between the two. Whether it was mere friendship or something deeper, I couldn''t say. Though, if I was being honest with myself, I had half-wondered if something had also happened between Siara and Jason during this time. The possibility gnawed at the back of my mind, but it was a question for another time. "Gwen... he''s with Troy, but..." Siara''s voice faltered, her eyes shifting between us as if searching for the right words. She wanted to say more, but hesitation held her back, fear and confusion mingling in her expression. She didn''t finish her sentence. Gwen''s gaze didn''t leave mine, her face unreadable as she slowly raised her hand, the air around her rippling with the faint shimmer of magic. Iphlea''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Gwen! What are you doing? Take your friend and run away now!" Iphlea cried, her tiny form darting toward Gwen in a frantic attempt to stop her. "This isn''t a fight you can win!" BADOOOOM! The explosion rippled through the air, sending shockwaves across all of Lyrnessus. Houses behind me were split apart, their walls crumbling under the force of the blast. Dust and debris filled the sky as I was flung backward, skidding across the ground until my momentum was stopped by a single remaining wall, hundreds of meters away. Through the haze of dust, I could hear the faint murmur of voices¡ªGwen and Iphlea, floating cautiously toward me. "Did we get him?!" Iphlea''s voice trembled with nervous energy, her tiny frame taut with anticipation. The dust swirled around them, obscuring their view, but Gwen wasted no time. With a flick of her hand, she summoned a gust of wind, clearing the air around me. When her eyes finally fell on me, her expression shifted from confidence to shock. I was still standing. My arm, raised protectively, had taken the full brunt of the attack. The sleeve of my shirt was shredded, but instead of torn flesh, an icy armor encased my arm¡ªgleaming and cold, like a second skin. Beneath that icy surface, my true skin remained untouched, protected by the magic I had long learned to wield. A crack ran through the ice on my arm¡ªfrom the power of Gwen''s eighth-rank spell¡ªbut that was the extent of the damage. "Impossible!" Iphlea gasped, her face pale with disbelief. "He barely took any damage from an eighth-rank magic!" Gwen remained silent, but the urgency in her eyes spoke volumes. She hadn''t expected me to withstand her attack so easily. Her fingers trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. I lowered my arm, allowing the ice to glimmer in the fading sunlight. A smirk played on my lips. "My turn now." The atmosphere around me shifted as my body emitted an icy aura, colder than any wind Gwen could summon. It wasn''t exactly like Khione''s, but there was an unmistakable similarity¡ªan aura that felt almost divine, reminiscent of a Goddess''s power. Iphlea''s face went ghostly white as she sensed it, fear radiating from her tiny frame. "Gwen! RUN! NOW!" Iphlea screamed, her voice shrill with panic. Gwen hesitated only for a second before propelling herself backward with a burst of wind, shooting away from me with astonishing speed. She had no choice but to retreat, but I had no intention of letting her go so easily. This was my little payback. I extended my arm, icy energy swirling at my fingertips. "Celestial Rank Magic," I murmured, my voice low but brimming with power. My mana condensed in the air, forming a lance of pure ice, far more potent than Gwen''s wind-based weapon. "Celestial Frozen Lance." The lance shot forward, a blur of icy blue streaking through the air at a speed that dwarfed Gwen''s earlier attack. The wind around it howled in protest, ripped apart by the sheer force of the magic. In less than two seconds, it closed the distance between us, hurtling toward Gwen with deadly precision. She wouldn''t die from it since she was a Hero but she will definitely took quite the damages if she took the attack head-on. It would tear through her defenses like paper. But I wasn''t trying to kill her¡ªI knew Iphlea would intervene. She had to. "Iphlea!" Gwen called concerned for her little friend. "I will take care of it!" Iphlea cried, darting in front of Gwen. Her tiny hands stretched forward, a barrier of mana forming between them just as the lance reached her. CRAK! BADOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! Chapter 173: Athena and Hera witness Lyrnessus was attacked. The Greeks had attacked Trojan soil, a decisive strike signaling the dawn of the Trojan War. With that single blow, the world stood at the precipice of an unprecedented conflict¡ªone that would capture the attention of not only men, but also the gods. The skies above Olympus stirred, their vast pantheon watching the war unfold. Gods, whose existence stretched across millennia, found themselves intrigued by the carnage below. For centuries, they had lived through the rise and fall of civilizations, the ebb and flow of empires, but recently, the world had been disappointingly quiet. Mundane. Yet, here in Troy, something different was happening¡ªsomething that had piqued their interest. The war was not just between men. Divinity itself was split. On one side stood Athena and Hera, aligned against their fellow Olympians, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Artemis. Their squabble over the fates of mortals had drawn sharp battle lines, even in the heavens. This, too, promised intrigue. From his seat atop Olympus, Zeus looked down upon the battlefield, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Hermes shifted his gaze between the warriors, while Ares leaned forward, thirsting for the bloodshed to come. Dionysus sipped wine casually, but even his eyes gleamed with interest. Each god had their own reasons for watching, and the tension among them mirrored the growing chaos below. Most of their focus lay on two names whispered among mortals¡ªAchilles and Agamemnon¡ªthe so-called stars of the Greek army. Their feats were anticipated, their glory a foregone conclusion in the eyes of the gods. But Zeus''s attention, like that of many others, was also drawn to a different group¡ªKhione''s Heroes. A band whose reputation had been scorned, often called the weakest of the summoned Heroes. Khione herself had endured ridicule from the other gods for her perceived weakness. Yet Jason, one of her chosen, had shattered expectations in a single moment. His attack had leveled the walls of Lyrnessus in one swift blow, an act of such power that even the gods blinked in surprise. For a fleeting moment, Olympus itself seemed to pause as whispers rippled through the ranks of the Gods. This was no minor feat. A murmur spread among them, disbelief tinged with curiosity. Could the so-called weakest Heroes be stronger than they appeared? As the hours passed, the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a crimson glow over the smoking ruins of Lyrnessus. From the heights of Olympus and the realms beyond, the gods bore witness to the devastation. The once-proud city lay in tatters, its gates shattered, its streets littered with the bodies of soldiers and innocents alike. The wails of the wounded and the cries of the fleeing echoed like a mournful chorus. But the gods, for all their power, could do nothing. They watched in silence, some uncaring, others filled with a fleeting sense of pity. Yet none moved to intervene. Such was the delicate balance of divine power¡ªif one god acted, others would follow, and the chain of retaliation would spiral out of control. The earth could not bear the full force of all Gods'' might on Earth ground, which is why they dwelled in the heavens, in a dimension beyond the reach of mortals. The gods watched from above, eyes glittering with a mixture of disinterest and vague curiosity. Far below, Lyrnessus was ablaze, plumes of smoke curling into the sky as the final throes of battle ebbed away. Most of the gods floating in the heavens did not bother to intervene¡ªthey watched the scene like a staged play, impassive observers as human lives crumbled beneath the blades of warriors. Yet there was a stir in the air, a ripple of interest when the Trojans finally arrived. Among them, two figures stood out, their presence like boulders amidst a stream¡ªHector and Aeneas, the demigod warrior with the blood of gods in his veins. There was a quiet murmur among the onlookers. What they craved most was a confrontation between these two champions and Achilles. The thought of their clash stirred a certain anticipation, even among those who had seen countless wars. But that moment of excitement quickly fizzled as Achilles, having already dispatched the Trojan King, strode away from the battlefield with Briseis, his prize, by his side. His part in the slaughter was over. Achilles had no interest in prolonging a battle already won, nor in facing Hector or Aeneas when his victory was already certain. The girl had clearly spent all her mana, drained from whatever encounter had just transpired. In her arms, she cradled Iphlea, a powerful fairy known for her vast reservoirs of magical energy. Yet, Iphlea was unconscious, blood trailing from a wound on her head. Hera''s frown deepened. Whoever had done this was far more dangerous than she had anticipated. A cold realization settled over her. This had to be the work of someone from the Trojan side. But who? Hector, Penthesilea and Aeneas were the strongest, and yet, this attack didn''t seem to match their typical methods. Her eyes flickered with frustration. "Impossible," Hera muttered, her face darkening with displeasure. For there to be another powerful figure among the Trojans, someone who had remained hidden until now¡ªit was a threat she had not accounted for. "Who!!" Hera''s voice cracked with fury as she scoured the battlefield, her senses reaching out for the intruder. But it was as if the presence had vanished, dissolved into the air like a mirage. No trace. No pulse of power. Nothing. Frustrated, she shifted her approach. Instead of trying to sense the powerful presence, she followed the trajectory of the ice lance that had pierced the air moments before the explosion. Her divine eyes traced it to its origin, a secluded corner of the ruined city. And then, she saw them. Two figures stood in the shadows of the crumbling ruins. One was a young man, dressed in dark, unremarkable clothing. His black hair was wind-tossed, and his ice-blue eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light. He looked ordinary, like a mercenary plucked from the masses. Yet, Hera''s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, something about his presence¡ªhis aura¡ªfelt... off. He seemed too calm, too composed in the midst of the chaos. But her gaze soon shifted to the second figure, and her breath caught in her throat. "This..." Hera murmured, her voice tight with disbelief. Standing beside the man was a woman with deep ocean-blue hair that cascaded down her back, her eyes the same mesmerizing shade. There was something familiar about her, as if Hera had seen her before, or perhaps felt her presence from afar. But this woman wasn''t ordinary¡ªHera could tell that much. She was concealing the true extent of her abilities, but her power was undeniable, at least equal to that of Aeneas. Yet, there was something deeply unsettling. Why would a woman of such strength stand by the side of an ordinary-looking man? More than that¡ªwhy did she seem to obey him? Hera''s eyes narrowed, her gold irises sharpening as she watched the pair from a distance. There was no mistaking it. The woman, though powerful, deferred to the man. Her posture, her body language, it all pointed to a strange dynamic where the stronger bowed to the weaker. Suddenly, the man''s ice-blue eyes flickered. For the briefest moment, they darted toward Hera''s direction, piercing through the distance as if he could see her. "What...?" Hera''s breath hitched, an unexpected chill creeping down her spine. She faltered, losing her focus for the first time in centuries. For just a split second, she felt as though he had seen her¡ªnot merely sensed her presence, but actually laid eyes on her. She quickly looked back and he was speaking to the woman normally as if nothing happened. "It must have been my imagination..." Hera mumbled, shaking off the unease that clung to her. Chapter 174: New plan to Save Astynome After releasing my Celestial Rank attack, I swiftly erased all traces of divine mana and vanished from the scene, my movements quick and deliberate. The chaos I left behind might have drawn the attention of many, but I had no intention of sticking around to deal with the aftermath. Good thing Amaterasu taught me that trick, I mused silently, grateful for the foresight. Even now, I could feel the weight of numerous gazes sweeping the area, searching for the source of the devastation. Some were curious, others suspicious, but I was confident none of them would find me easily. Of course, Apollo and Artemis likely already knew, that had their attention on me for a moment now. Their senses were sharp, sharper than most. But I felt a quiet assurance that they wouldn''t reveal my identity. From their point of view, I could be a valuable asset in the looming war against the Greeks. To out me now would draw unwanted attention and potential threats. Gods¡ªeven minor ones¡ªmight feel threatened and try to eliminate me. That wasn''t a risk they''d take lightly. And even if they harbored some doubts, Aphrodite was my insurance. She had promised to cover my back in this war. As long as she played her part, my identity would remain shrouded in mystery. No one could afford to move against me without proper information. "Samael." The voice snapped me from my thoughts. Charybdis landed beside me in a graceful arc, her expression as calm and neutral as ever, though I could sense the undercurrent of worry in her actions. I had tasked her with keeping an eye on Agamemnon and Astynome, but it seemed my earlier surge of true mana had caught her attention, prompting her return. Even though she was careful not to show it, the worry was there. "Something happened?" she asked, her gaze flicking toward the aftermath of my attack. The ground where my lance had struck was a desolate path of ice and frost, the remnants of destruction stretching far ahead, a frozen scar upon the battlefield. It radiated cold, the air itself heavy with the lingering power I had unleashed. I shook my head slightly, more to myself than to her. "No, nothing serious," I replied, eyes narrowing as I surveyed the damage. I hadn''t wanted to get involved in this war¡ªit wasn''t my fight¡ªbut there were certain people that I wanted to test and see how much growth they had grown through. Gwen had been one of them. Her presence here had been unexpected, but seeing her again stirred something within me. She hadn''t changed much, still stubborn, still fierce, but there was a newfound maturity about her. She had grown, in ways I hadn''t anticipated. Siara, too. She seemed to be faring well, though I remained cautious. The Empire of Light wasn''t to be trusted. But for now, it looked like they were safe. My mind turned to the others¡ªSienna, Amelia, Courtney, Aisha. They hadn''t been part of this battle at Lyrnessus, or at least I hadn''t sensed them. But I would find them soon. I had to make sure they were alright, especially with everything moving so fast. There was little time for doubt. Suddenly, a feeling washed over me, a piercing sensation that sent a chill down my spine. I glanced to my right, my eyes narrowing as I searched for the source. Someone was watching me¡ªclosely. I couldn''t tell who it was, but the presence was undeniable. Divine, distant, but powerful. I quickly looked away. Athena? Hera? It was hard to say, though my instincts leaned toward the latter. Hera had always been more a pain to Khione from what I heard. Her gaze weighed heavy, even from afar. Khione had warned me about her, telling me to beware of her watchful eyes. Now, I understood why. Along with Medea, the three of them had become knights in my service, my people in the coming war against the Divine Knights¡ªmy Divine Knights. But this time wasn''t one I could afford to have compromised by sentimentality or extra company. "I have to get back Astynome, and I have to do it alone." My voice softened slightly as I sighed. "I''ll infiltrate their camp, get Astynome, and return to Troy as quickly as I can. You don''t need to worry." It was the fastest way, and the only way to avoid further complication. Charybdis lowered her gaze, her entire demeanor shifting in an instant. The air around her grew colder as her murderous aura leaked out, and her skin began to turn a deep, menacing blue. Her voice, once steady, now dripped with cold fury. "If you want her back, just kill all of them and take her." "Charys." I stopped in my tracks, turning to face her. Without hesitation, I pulled her into my arms, pressing her body close to mine. My lips found hers, and I kissed her deeply, pouring all my warmth into the kiss as if to melt the frost that had begun to envelop her. "Mmmnn~" A soft, involuntary sound escaped Charybdis as her entire body shivered beneath my touch. Her lips, soft and moist, tasted of salt and the sea, but more than that¡ªthey were filled with the intensity of her emotions. As I held her close, my hands found their way to her hips, resting on her curvy figure. I could feel her chest pressed against me, her heartbeat fast and unsteady. My lips brushed against her ear as I whispered softly, "Tell Aeneas that I''ll be back soon." Her breath hitched, and she let out another faint moan, "Y-Yes... hmmnnn~~" Her body, once tense and brimming with murderous intent, relaxed in my arms. The cold, dangerous energy that had been leaking from her vanished as though it had never existed in the first place. In its place was a quiet surrender. "You don''t have to worry," I reassured her as I pulled back, leaving a thin thread of saliva between our parted lips. Her face remained expressionless, but I could see the subtle blush on her cheeks, a rare and fleeting display of vulnerability. Whether it was Charybdis, Medea, or Scylla, all three of them were obsessed with me in a way that was both flattering and frightening. Their devotion had crossed into obsession, and if I were to die... I didn''t even want to think about the consequences. They would lose themselves entirely, and the world would undoubtedly suffer for it. The thought of them, of what they might do in my death, was yet another reason I couldn''t afford to die. I had left too deep of an impression on them. A world without me would be meaningless in their eyes, and they would tear it apart in their grief and rage. With one last glance at Charybdis, who still stood there with her stoic face and blushing cheeks, I gave a nod. She knew what needed to be done, and soon she turned and disappeared into the shadows, heading back to the Trojans. Now, I could focus on the task ahead. My attention shifted back toward the Greek side. The two goddesses¡ªwhose gazes I had felt earlier¡ªseemed to have retreated back to their realm, leaving me free to act. Pulling a scarf from my belongings, I wrapped it around my mouth, concealing my face. The time for subtlety had come. I scanned the battlefield, quickly finding the body of a fallen Spartan soldier. Stripping the corpse of its armor, I removed my own and donned his in its place. The blood-stained bronze plate and battered helmet would allow me to blend in among the Greeks for the time being. "Let''s do this." I will just infiltrate their camp, get Astynome back and leave right away. Chapter 175: A powerful unknown Card "Did you see that, brother?" Artemis asked, her voice tinged with disbelief, her mind still reeling from what had just transpired. Her eyes, usually calm and unshakable, now reflected the shock that coursed through her. "I saw it clearly," Apollo replied, his tone measured, but ev he couldn''t hide the flicker of awe in his voice. His gaze remained fixed on the empty space where Nathan had stood mere momts ago, a spectacle of overwhelming might that defied ev their divine sses. In contrast to her siblings, Aphrodite remained silt, though a faint, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She might not have voiced her thoughts, but inwardly, her heart brimmed with joy, amusemt ev. How she longed to witness the expressions on Hera''s and Atha''s faces right now. The gods of wisdom and power, so accustomed to control and superiority, must have be seething in frustration as they watched Nathan''s overwhelming display¡ªone they never saw coming. It was obvious that in the d, neither of them had be able to pinpoint Nathan''s exact location. He had vanished, as if erased from existce itself. "He''s gone," Artemis muttered, frustration creeping into her voice as she scanned the city of Lyrnessus from their divine vantage point. Her ke huntress eyes searched desperately, but Nathan had disappeared. "I''ve lost track of his presce as well," Apollo admitted, though his eyes held a gleam of curiosity rather than irritation. For the briefest of momts, both Apollo and Artemis had let their atttion slip. Just a minute¡ªless, ev¡ªand that was all it took for Nathan to vanish completely from their sights. They could no longer sse him anywhere in Lyrnessus. A feat that ev gods would struggle to achieve. Aphrodite suppressed a laugh, her thoughts swirling with satisfaction. "I should really thank Amaterasu for that," she mused to herself, recalling how the Sun Goddess had taught Nathan the secret art of erasing one''s presce. But Nathan, like a prodigy, had mastered the technique in mere days¡ªa week, at most. The boy was a monster in his own right. His swift progression had only accelerated since he''d slaved Amaterasu, drawing from her divine ergy, and further bolstered by Khione''s power, his strgth was growing at a terrifying pace. Despite her inner glee, Aphrodite kept her expression neutral. Now wasn''t the time to reveal her connection to Nathan, let alone her role in giving the Princess of Tebria the ability to summon a Hero. She had already gathered more emies than she cared for. Best to play the part of an oblivious observer for now. "I didn''t realize there was someone so powerful on our side," Aphrodite remarked casually, glancing at Apollo with a sly, satisfied smile. "Did you, dear Apollo?" "No," Apollo replied, though his eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze on Aphrodite, suspicion flickering behind his sere fac?ade. "But I feel like you know more than you''re letting on, Aphrodite." "What are you hiding?" Artemis added, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes narrowing as she regarded the goddess of love. "We''re all on the same side here, Aphrodite." Aphrodite waved her hand dismissively, her laughter light and melodic, as though the idea were utterly ridiculous. "Oh, please. I don''t know much more than you two," she lied smoothly, "but shouldn''t we just be glad that he''s on our side? We could use another strong warrior, especially with Hector as our only other trump card." Apollo and Artemis exchanged glances, clearly not fully convinced, but neither could refute her logic. Nathan''s strgth was undiable, and at the momt, they needed every advantage they could get in the war that loomed ahead. "Perhaps," Apollo murmured, though his suspicions lingered. "Perhaps a god taught him," a calm voice cut through the stillness. The gathered deities turned toward the trance of the chamber. Atha strode in, her armor gleaming under the soft glow of Olympus''s eternal light. Her expression was sharp. Walking beside her was Hera, the que of the gods, in an extremely bad mood. "A god?" Ares scoffed, though there was a flicker of disbelief in his voice. "What god would teach a human celestial magic?" But Atha''s words rang with truth. Khione¡ªthe Goddess of Ice¡ªwas the one who had bestowed Nathan with such knowledge. She had taught him the arcane secrets of celestial magic, magic that was typically reserved for the chos few, demigods and gods alike. Of course, no one in Olympus truly understood the full extt of what was happing, save for one¡ªAphrodite. The goddess of love had long suspected the connection betwe Nathan and Khione, having caught glimpses of their strange and growing bond well before anyone else had ev considered it. "I bet it''s that bitch Aphrodite," Hera spat, her voice seething with anger as she reclined on her throne next to Zeus. Her eyes blazed with fury, her mind churning with suspicion. "That''s why she seems so confidt, so smug." It was highly possible, Hermes thought. He smirked siltly. Aphrodite had always be more involved in the affairs of mortals than most of the gods realized. But what Hera didn''t know¡ªand what Hermes wasn''t about to reveal¡ªwas that Aphrodite had be the one to orchestrate the summoning of the Hero of Darkness. She had helped pull the strings that brought Samael into the fold, though few could connect the dots. Hermes chuckled inwardly. He was the only god aware that the mysterious figure known as Heiron was other than Samael¡ªthe Hero of Darkness himself. But keeping secrets was his specialty. He reveled in it. Besides, Hermes had no allegiance in this war. He was for no one, and everyone. All that interested him was the spectacle, the tertainmt, and Nathan was providing plty of that. In fact, if anyone in Olympus was truly thralled by the chaos unfolding, it was Hermes. His atttion was ev more captivated than Ares''s, who lived for battle and bloodshed. But while Ares was driv by rage and the lust for combat, Hermes was fascinated by the game¡ªthe strategies, the twists, the unpredictable outcomes. The Trojan War had become a divine chessboard, and Nathan was a piece no one had anticipated. The gods had already chos sides, though. On one hand, the Greeks were amassing a fearsome force, with legds like Agamemnon, Achilles, and the cunning Odysseus, all bolstered by the might of the two most powerful goddesses in Olympus¡ªHera and Atha. Their side carried the strgth of Olympus itself, and on paper, they seemed unstoppable. On the other hand, the Trojans were gathering their own heroes: Hector, Aeas, Aphrodite''s son, favored by the gods; and Pthesilea, Amazonian que. They had the backing of Aphrodite, Apollo, and Artemis. And, of course, they had Samael, the Hero of Darkness. Hermes smirk only grew. What truly intrigued him, however, wasn''t the battles betwe the expected champions¡ªAchilles or Hector, Agamemnon or Odysseus. No, what captivated his atttion was Nathan. On the very first day of the Trojan War, the human had unknowingly become the focus of the gods'' atttion, overshadowing ev the greatest warriors of legd. Despite himself, Nathan had emerged as a ctral figure in this unfolding drama, drawing the eyes of both mortals and immortals alike. Chapter 176: Aeneass Trust "So boring!" Penthesilea huffed, her voice sharp with frustration. She paced back and forth, her fists clenched, her impatience growing by the minute. "I didn''t see any Achilles, Agamemnon, Menelaus, or Ajax! None of the true warriors were here. Just weaklings! Is this what the great Lyrnessus had to offer? I''m disappointed¡ªI wanted to fight real men, warriors worthy of my strength!" The Amazonian queen''s anger simmered beneath her calm exterior, but those who knew her well could see it in the tense set of her jaw, the way her spear twitched in her grip. She had come to Lyrnessus with high expectations, eager to test herself against the legendary heroes of the Achaeans, the so-called strongest fighters of the Greek world. After all, she wasn''t just any warrior¡ªshe was the queen of the Amazons, a title she had earned by constantly pushing herself beyond her limits. She lived for battle, for the thrill of facing a foe who could challenge her. But instead of worthy adversaries, all she had found was a ruined city, its once-proud streets now littered with corpses and the remains of homes burned to ash. The Greeks who had laid siege to Lyrnessus were no better than scavengers, plundering like wild beasts, too cowardly or too complacent to stand and fight her. "This is pathetic," she muttered under her breath, glaring at the smoldering ruins around her. "A real disappointment." Hector, standing nearby with a sword resting against his shoulder, exhaled in exasperation. "We aren''t here for a fight, Penthesilea," he reminded her, his voice level but tired. "Our mission was to evacuate the survivors, not seek glory in battle." Penthesilea shot him a look, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. So why are we still hanging around? We''ve rescued the survivors, haven''t we? What''s the point in waiting? The longer we stay, the higher the risk of getting caught." Her voice was laced with impatience, and the twitch in her hand suggested she was ready to leave this miserable place behind. The Amazons and Trojans had done what they came to do¡ªrescued the few who survived the Greek onslaught and spirited them away in carriages hidden on the outskirts of the city. The survivors were already on their way to the Trojan capital, safe and out of harm''s reach. Now, they were simply lingering, disguised as soldiers of Lyrnessus amidst the rubble, waiting for...something. Hector, ever the calm and steady leader, shook his head. "We''re still missing two people," he explained, keeping his eyes on the horizon, as if expecting trouble at any moment. Penthesilea raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Who?" she demanded. "Heiron and his companion," came the answer from Aeneas, who had been standing quietly near the edge of the group. His gaze was distant, thoughtful, as if recalling something important. "Probably dead by now," Penthesilea replied bluntly, with a dismissive shrug. "Let''s just leave. I don''t care about some random fighters, especially not ones foolish enough to stay behind in this wasteland." Aeneas frowned, clearly not swayed by her indifference. "No, they aren''t dead," he said firmly, shaking his head. "I''m sure of it." Hector, though trusting Aeneas, shared a sliver of Penthesilea''s doubt. "Are you certain, Aeneas? With the chaos that''s unfolded here, it''s not impossible." Aeneas met Hector''s gaze, his expression serious. "Yes, I''m certain. I saw Heiron in the heat of battle¡ªhe was fighting one of the Empire''s Heroes." Penthesilea''s interest piqued for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "One of those Heroes? Then he''s probably dead after all. I''ve heard those Empire warriors are strong¡ªstronger than most." "He said he was going to spy on the Greek camp to gather information." Charybdis said casually. But it was as if she had tossed a bomb at their feet. The reaction was immediate. Aeneas'' eyes widened in disbelief. "What? Has he gone mad?" He almost shouted, unable to comprehend how reckless Heiron could be. Charybdis'' nonchalant tone only made it worse. She said it as though Heiron was merely taking a stroll through a peaceful meadow instead of infiltrating a heavily fortified enemy camp. Penthesilea''s lips curled into a smirk, ever the cynic. "Perhaps he''s betrayed us," she suggested, her voice laced with amusement. "Wouldn''t that be something? Especially since he could know the layout of Troy so well." Hector''s expression hardened. The possibility of betrayal weighed heavily on him. If Heiron had truly turned against them, it would be catastrophic. The information he carried could spell their doom. But Aeneas shook his head, his voice firm. "No. He didn''t betray us." Hector narrowed his eyes, unsure how Aeneas could be so certain. "How do you know that?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his tone. Aeneas hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "I can''t be certain, but I trust my instincts. Something about Heiron... he doesn''t strike me as the type to betray those he fights alongside." He thought back to the brief interactions he had with Heiron. Though they didn''t know each other well, there was something about him that inspired trust, something honest and unspoken that Aeneas had sensed during their exchanges. "And besides," Aeneas added, "if he were truly planning to betray us, would he have sent his companion back to us?" Hector considered this for a moment, nodding slowly. "You''re right. Maybe... Let''s just hope he comes back with good information¡ªand alive." But Aeneas, still troubled, glanced at Charybdis. Her calm demeanor unnerved him. He couldn''t understand how she wasn''t worried, how she could be so indifferent when Heiron was taking such a dangerous risk. "Aren''t you worried about him at all?" Aeneas asked, genuinely surprised by her composure. Charybdis turned her gaze on him, her expression one of disdain and disbelief, as though she had just heard the most absurd question imaginable. "The ones who should be worried," she said icily, "are the Greeks." With that, she walked away, her ocean-blue hair swaying gently with each step, leaving the trio behind in silence. Hector, Penthesilea, and Aeneas exchanged glances. They said nothing as they followed her out of Lyrnessus, Chapter 177: Ajax angry "Lyrnessus has fallen. Our first battle ended in great success," Patroclus announced, his voice carrying a tone of satisfaction. The commanders and heroes of the Greek forces had gathered inside a large, well-furnished meeting tent, spacious enough to accommodate over twenty individuals. The atmosphere inside was thick with the heady scent of sweat, dust, and battle-worn armor. At the center of the tent stood a large wooden table, and spread across it was a meticulously detailed map of the Trojan territories. The map was marked with strategic points¡ªfortresses, rivers, and the path to Troy itself. Lyrnessus, once a powerful stronghold in support of the Trojan capital, had been a key obstacle to their campaign. Its fall now represented a crucial victory. "Lyrnessus was a thorn in our side, threatening to aid the Trojan capital if we allowed it to stand. This is indeed good news," Odysseus added thoughtfully, turning his gaze toward Agamemnon. The King of Mycenae, towering over the table with his arms crossed, looked particularly pleased with himself. Odysseus, ever the tactician, had a reason behind his compliment. "Good job, King Agamemnon," he said, his voice smooth and calculated. It wasn''t that Odysseus was known for flattery¡ªfar from it¡ªbut he was always a man of strategy, and right now, Agamemnon''s mood needed to be kept in check. Ever since the king had sacrificed his own daughter, Iphigenia, to the gods for favorable winds on their journey to Troy, his temper had been unstable, brooding under the surface. "Yes, brilliant work as always, Agamemnon," Nestor, the elder statesman, added with a smile, his voice full of praise. There was a weariness in his eyes, though. Nestor, wise and aged, knew the balance of egos among the Greeks was as delicate as the war they waged. Agamemnon, basking in the attention, grunted approvingly, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. For all his titles and power, he was, at his core, a simple man who relished recognition¡ªespecially after the personal sacrifice he''d made. But not everyone shared their view. "Why is he taking all the praise when he did nothing?" A voice, sharp and irritated, rang out, cutting through the air like a blade. Odysseus and Nestor inwardly groaned, exchanging a glance that spoke volumes. They could practically feel the tension crackling in the air before even turning their heads. The timing couldn''t have been worse. Jason Spencer, his expression darkened with frustration, strode into the tent, Liphiel accompanying him. Jason''s golden armor gleamed in the dim torchlight, a stark contrast to the scowling face beneath his helm. He wasn''t trying to mask his displeasure; it was clear he had had enough of being sidelined by the Greek kings. From the very beginning, the Heroes of the Empire of Light had been treated like children, barely acknowledged, despite their invaluable contributions. They had fought fiercely, yet here they were, excluded from the praise and recognition being showered upon Agamemnon, a king who hadn''t even been at the forefront of the battle. Still, many thought his pride was misplaced, almost reckless. A man like Ajax could break him with a flick of his wrist. Yet Jason''s eyes burned with defiance, unwilling to yield even an inch. Liphiel, watching from behind, couldn''t help but smile. Jason Spencer, despite his brashness and youth, had something special. He wasn''t the strongest person here¡ªfar from it¡ªbut there was a reason why he had been chosen as the Hero of Light. Walking into this tent, facing down the kings of Greece and one of its fiercest warriors, took more than just courage. It took guts and the sort of raw audacity that could turn the tide of a war. Liphiel knew Jason had potential, a hidden darkness within him that could be shaped into something truly terrifying. But it would take more than a mere threatening gaze from Ajax to awaken it. "I don''t care," Jason began, his voice steady despite the pressure. "We are here too, and I don''t have to remind you kings that it was the Goddess Hera herself who chose us. You can either accommodate us or tell Hera directly that you refuse her help¡ªand we''ll leave." His words, calm yet laced with a thinly veiled threat, caused Ajax to grit his teeth in frustration. Even Ajax, with all his strength and might, could not open his mouth to defy the will of the gods so openly. Hera''s favor was not something to take lightly, and Jason had just used it as his shield. The silence in the tent thickened. Odysseus, who had been watching the exchange with a calculating eye, allowed a small smile to creep onto his lips. "He''s no ordinary kid," Odysseus remarked, stepping forward to mediate. "Let''s accept that much." Heracles, standing tall beside Ajax, then added in a calm, measured tone, "Yes, but I ask that you show respect to your elders¡ªespecially when they are kings." Jason''s eyes flickered for a moment, as if weighing the admonishment, but before he could respond, Liphiel stepped forward. "I apologize on behalf of Hero Jason. His frustration is understandable. But we are all on the same side, aren''t we?" She turned to Patroclus, who had observed the Heroes of Light during the battle. "Lord Patroclus, you saw how our Heroes fought. What do you think?" Patroclus, who had remained quiet up until this point, nodded. "Yes. They are not to be underestimated," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of an honest warrior''s assessment. There was no denying the contribution the Heroes of Light had made during the fall of Lyrnessus. Odysseus, sensing the moment was right, smoothly interjected. "Then it''s settled." He glanced around the room, his words helping to ease the mounting tension. His timing, as always, was impeccable, lending support to Liphiel''s efforts to smooth things over. Ajax, still simmering with anger, gave Jason one last glare before stepping back. Heracles placed a hand on Ajax''s shoulder, calming the towering warrior with his steady presence. Jason, still standing tall, nodded but said nothing further. The meeting continued none of them unaware that outside an intruder was wandering in their camp... Chapter 178: Achilless True The tension in the room had finally eased, the after-battle meeting of the Greek kings reaching its conclusion with little incident. Jason Spencer, had made his points, but Agamemnon, sitting upon his makeshift throne, barely regarded them as anything more than the naive ramblings of a young man. To Agamemnon, Jason and the others were nothing more than boys playing at war, unaware of the true weight that kings like him carried. Agamemnon leaned back, his heavy golden armor gleaming under the dim light, his brow furrowed in thought. "Why didn''t Achilles come?" Agamemnon''s gruff voice broke the momentary silence, his sharp eyes shifting toward Patroclus, who was preparing to leave the gathering. Patroclus, poised at the edge of the fire''s glow, halted mid-step. His expression was calm but spoke volumes, a thin layer of amusement beneath his composed exterior. "You know how he is," he replied, turning his gaze to Agamemnon. "Achilles doesn''t care for these tedious talks. But rest assured, when it''s time to fight, he''ll be there. You have nothing to worry about." Agamemnon scowled, his lips curling in disdain. He could never understand Achilles, the aloof warrior who refused to kneel to anyone, especially him. "I heard he''s gotten his hands on some beauty from Lyrnessus back at the camp," Agamemnon muttered, his voice dripping with cynicism. "That''s probably where he''s been spending his time. Playing with her while we deal with the real matters of war." Patroclus''s lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile, though he kept his thoughts to himself. The truth was far more complicated. Achilles had no love for Agamemnon, nor for the sycophants surrounding him, constantly praising him for deeds he hadn''t even accomplished. Achilles despised these pompous gatherings where men like Agamemnon strutted about, feigning leadership. His hatred for the High King was no secret, and so he remained in his tent, unwilling to be commanded by a man he held in such low regard. "Perhaps," Patroclus said, tilting his head slightly, "but I''ve heard you, too, have a prize of your own, King Agamemnon. A fair beauty from the temple of Apollo?" His tone was light, but the implication was clear. Agamemnon''s eyes flickered briefly with satisfaction, his mind already wandering to Astynome¡ªthe priestess of Apollo who now lay captive in his tent. She was a rare prize, her beauty only made more tantalizing by her sacred status. Agamemnon had claimed her as his spoil without a second thought. "Astynome," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a possessive pride. "She''s mine by right. What does it matter if she prays to Apollo?" There was a murmur among the kings, their eyes darting toward Nestor, the aged and wise ruler of Pylos, who had remained quiet until now. His expression was measured, but the concern in his eyes did not go unnoticed. "I''ve heard," Nestor began cautiously, "that she''s a priestess of Apollo. Perhaps... some care should be taken." Agamemnon shot him a dismissive look, his pride wounded by the suggestion that he should be cautious with what was rightfully his. "So what?" he barked. "She''s my reward, and I have every intention of enjoying her. No god can change that. We are kings, Nestor. These are the rules of our world. Spoils go to the victor." The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of Agamemnon''s words hanging in the air. He was right, in a way. On this blood-soaked continent, war governed all. Kings took what they wanted, and the gods rarely intervened in the affairs of men¡ªat least, not openly. Achilles finally broke it, his voice deep and measured. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion as he began removing his blood-soaked armor, piece by piece. The metal clanked heavily as he set it aside, his muscular frame now exposed to the cool air of the night. Briseis''s jaw clenched, her eyes still defiant despite the fear that churned inside her. "Achilles, King of Phthia," she answered, her voice steady though it trembled slightly at the edges. She knew exactly who he was. Achilles dipped a cloth into a nearby basin filled with perfumed water, the fragrant steam rising in soft curls. He began to cleanse his face, wiping away the blood and grime that had accumulated over the course of the day''s battle. His movements were slow, methodical, and weirdly careful. "Also," Achilles added, glancing briefly at her, "child of the goddess Thetis." His words were not a boast, but a reminder. He was no ordinary man, but a demigod. A being born of both human and divine blood. Briseis clenched her jaw, holding back a sharp retort. Achilles stood before her, radiating the arrogance she had heard so much about. He was every bit as prideful as the tales had warned, but now that she had a closer look at him, there was something unexpected about the famed warrior. Without his armor, Achilles looked nothing like the brute she had imagined. He was lean, his muscles subtle and finely sculpted, not the bulging mass of strength that Ajax or other Greek champions displayed. His skin was smooth and pale, almost glowing in the dim light of the tent, and appeared unmarked, a strange contrast to the violent life he led. It was hard to believe that this flawless skin belonged to the man who had felled countless foes in battle, a warrior whom even the gods themselves whispered about. Briseis, despite her anger, found herself astonished. Was this truly the body of the strongest warrior of the Greek armies, the man whose very name struck terror into the hearts of his enemies? Even she, in some twisted sense, felt a pang of envy toward his unblemished skin and long, flowing red hair, which until now had been tied back but now spilled freely past his shoulders. The soft shimmer of gold in his eyes as he glanced at the mirror only confirmed the divine blood that coursed through him. Magnificent. She had to admit it¡ªhe was truly magnificent. Achilles turned back toward her with a smirk then removed the top layer of the clothing with casual ease, baring more of his skin to the cool air. Briseis instinctively averted her gaze in shame and discomfort. But something caught her eye, just before she could fully look away. A flash of something unusual. Her brow furrowed as confusion overtook her, and her gaze hesitantly drifted back to him, curiosity overriding her instinct to look away. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she froze, her mind racing to make sense of what she was seeing. Achilles'' chest was not what she had expected. Beneath the smooth, almost otherworldly skin of his abdomen, there was a thin, white cloth bound tightly across his chest. But what truly caught her attention was the unmistakable outline beneath that cloth¡ªsoft curves, the unmistakable shape of a woman''s chest, hidden beneath the fabric. Briseis slowly raised her gaze, her eyes tracing the elegant curve of the valley that led down to those appetizing concealed peaks, the delicate rise and fall of Achilles'' chest. "A... A woman?" Chapter 179: Shes a woman! Achilles'' chest was not what she had expected. Beneath the smooth, almost otherworldly skin of his abdomen, there was a thin, white cloth bound tightly across his chest. But what truly caught her attention was the unmistakable outline beneath that cloth¡ªsoft curves, the unmistakable shape of a woman''s chest, hidden beneath the fabric. Briseis slowly raised her gaze, her eyes tracing the elegant curve of the valley that led down to those appetizing concealed peaks, the delicate rise and fall of Achilles'' chest. "A... A woman?" "Quite surprised, aren''t you?" Achilles laughed, her voice now softening into a tone far more feminine than Briseis had ever heard. There was a light, almost musical quality to it, a stark contrast to the gruff, commanding voice she had used until now, seemingly on purpose to deceive everyone around her. see-NovelFire-for-more Briseis blinked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you really Achilles?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt. The name Achilles of Phthia carried the weight of legends¡ªtales of a warrior without equal, said to be the greatest ever born after Perseus himself, the hero who had slain the dreaded gorgon. And the Achilles from those stories was undoubtedly a man, or at least, that was what everyone believed. As Briseis stared at the figure before her, the uncertainty gnawed at her. Could it be someone else entirely masquerading as the famed warrior? But Achilles merely smiled, a slow, knowing grin that seemed to dismiss Briseis''s doubt as if it were a fleeting thought. "Achilleas," she said softly, her lips curling. "That''s the name my mother gave me. But only those close to me call me Khillea. They, and they alone, know the truth¡ªthat I am, and have always been, a woman." Briseis found herself at a loss for words. Achilles¡ªa woman? It seemed impossible. This was the warrior who had felled the greatest foes of Troy, the unstoppable force of the Achaeans'' army. And yet, as Briseis stood there in stunned silence, the truth seemed to settle around her like a thick, heavy fog. Achilles'' eyes gleamed as she continued. "In the world of the Achaeans, it is men who are allowed to shine. Any woman who dares to outshine them is not honored, but discredited, mocked, or worse." There was a bitterness that crept into her tone, a bitterness born of years of understanding the harshness of the world. "I learned that lesson early. So, I became what they needed me to be. I lived as a man, fought as a man, and carried myself as one. Can you imagine if that fool Agamemnon ever discovered the truth?" Briseis shivered at the thought. Agamemnon¡ªthe arrogant king, so full of pride and self-importance¡ªhad always despised Achilles for her defiance, for her refusal to bow to him. What might he do if he learned that the warrior he envied and resented was, in fact, a woman? Briseis could only imagine the lengths to which Agamemnon might go to exert control over Achilles, perhaps even try to claim her as his own, forcing her into submission with the same ruthless tactics he used against his enemies. In that moment, she realized that any man in the Greek camps would have lost his senses at the sight of Khillea like this. She was, without a doubt, breathtaking¡ªher body as flawless as her battle prowess. Even though Briseis was a woman, she couldn''t help but feel an undeniable pull toward Khillea. She was not only the strongest warrior among the greeks, but also, impossibly, the most beautiful. There was something otherworldly about her, a perfection that made Briseis wonder if she truly had been born from a goddess, as the myths claimed. Naked and unabashed, Khillea turned her attention to the basin of hot water that had been prepared for her inside the tent. She moved gracefully, dipping her toes in first to test the temperature, then sliding her entire body into the water with a soft, contented sigh. "So good~," she moaned, her voice rich and sensual as the warmth of the water began to relax the tension from her muscles, worn from the strain of battle. Her moans filled the space between them, each one laced with pleasure as the water were washing away the dirt and blood of the battlefield. Briseis remained where she was, sitting awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Her mind was still racing, trying to process everything¡ªthe revelation of Achilles'' true identity, the strangeness of the situation, and the undeniable allure of the woman in front of her. "What are you doing?" Khillea''s voice interrupted her thoughts. The question was casual, but there was an unmistakable command in it. "Come." Briseis blinked, startled. "F...For?" she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest as she hesitantly approached the bath. As expected, Briseis'' suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Khillea, it appeared, was more interested in women than men. But Khillea''s next words caught her off guard. "Wash my hair." Briseis blinked, the tension in her chest easing slightly, though her confusion deepened. That was not the command she had expected. "You heard me?" Khillea''s voice was soft but firm, the hint of amusement lingering in her tone. Snapped out of her swirling thoughts, Briseis hesitated only for a moment before moving closer. She reached out, her hands trembling slightly as she took hold of Khillea''s soft, long red hair, which cascaded down her back in thick waves. The scent of the water was soothing, floral and delicate. With gentle fingers, Briseis began to wash the strands, her movements slow and deliberate. The warm water ran through Khillea''s hair, and with it, the tension in Briseis'' body began to loosen as well. She could feel Khillea''s muscles relax beneath her touch, the warrior''s body sinking deeper into the bath. "Mmmn~" Khillea moaned, a low, contented sound that sent a faint ripple through the room. Her breasts floated just above the water''s surface, barely visible, glistening in the dim light of the tent. The heat from the bath had turned her skin a soft pink, her beauty almost ethereal as the steam rose around her like mist. Chapter 180: Glory for Death "A good, hot bath after plunging into the chaos of battle, with the stench of blood still clinging to me, is truly the best thing in this world," Khillea murmured, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk as she sank deeper into the steaming water. Her cheeks were flushed, though whether from the heat of the bath or some deeper, strange pleasure brought on by the thought of war, it was impossible to tell. The air around her was thick with the scent of the herbs that floated in the water, meant to cleanse and soothe, but for Khillea, they were mere afterthoughts. What she reveled in wasn''t the calm of the bath, but the thrill of the battle that had led to this moment of respite. There was no denying it: Khillea loved war. Loved the clash of blades, the cries of fallen foes, and the rush of knowing she had survived another day on the battlefield. She tilted her head back, letting her damp, dark hair spill over the edge of the bath as her servant, Briseis, dutifully finished washing it. Khillea''s eyes gleamed with something wild, untamed. "Don''t you agree, Briseis?" she asked, turning her head slightly to glance at the girl who stood behind her, hands trembling as she worked. Briseis hesitated, her lips pressing together before she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don''t know. I''ve never fought. I don''t know what it feels like." Khillea''s laugh was low, almost indulgent, as if Briseis''s innocence amused her. She raised one leg out of the water, admiring the way the droplets clung to her pale, well-sculpted limb, embellished with thin, intricate scars that told their own tales of battle. "You should learn," Khillea said, her voice light but carrying an edge of seriousness beneath it. "There''s no feeling quite like it. It reminds you that you''re truly alive. When your blood is pumping, your heart racing, and death is just a breath away... that''s when you know what living really is." Briseis remained silent, her hands moving to wring out the washcloth, trying to hide the slight tremble in her fingers. "Why are you attacking us?" The question lingered in the steamy air for a moment, and Khillea''s smirk deepened as she leaned back against the smooth stone of the bath. "Why do you ask?" she replied, the amusement still playing in her tone, though her eyes had grown sharper. Briseis swallowed, but pressed on, her voice gaining a bit of strength. "Is it for Agamemnon? His brother... the one who lost Queen Helen?" At the mention of Agamemnon, Khillea''s expression changed, darkening into something almost contemptuous. The playful spark in her eyes dulled, replaced by irritation as she scoffed. "Agamemnon? Ha! What a joke. I couldn''t care less about him or his pitiful, cuckolded brother," she spat, her annoyance palpable. "I am here on my own volition, not because of some ridiculous feud over a stolen woman." "It''s either immortal glory or that," she said, her smirk widening, though her eyes still held that distant gleam. "I made my decision the day I left my homeland, my territory. But..." Her voice lowered slightly, and the smirk faltered for a brief second. "I''m not going to give up just because my mother said I can only have one of them." Briseis tilted her head, confused by the contradiction in her words. "Wh... what do you mean?" she asked, furrowing her brows. Khillea''s smile returned in full force, more predatory now, as if she had some secret plan brewing in her mind. "I want to leave behind an immortal legacy of my prowess, yes, but I also want to leave behind a personal one." Briseis''s eyes widened slightly, the meaning behind Khillea''s words dawning on her. "A child? But your mother said..." "Yes, yes, yes," Khillea interrupted, sulking as she turned away again, splashing water in frustration. "I know what my mother said. She''s told me time and again¡ªif I choose to take part in this war, I forfeit any chance of children. But that doesn''t mean I''m just going to lie down and do nothing about it. Or not even try?" She scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. "That would be pathetic." Briseis nodded slowly, though inwardly, she couldn''t help but feel that no matter how much Khillea tried, she would not be able to escape the fate foretold by Thetis, a goddess. Prophecies, especially those from divine lips, were rarely wrong. If stepping foot in Troy meant that Khillea would never have children and would ultimately die, then surely it was a fate that could not be avoided. Still, Briseis hesitated to voice this, sensing that Khillea wouldn''t take kindly to being reminded of the harshness of her destiny. Instead, she offered a more practical response. "There are plenty of men, so I suppose you have a wide choice," she said cautiously, keeping her true thoughts to herself. Khillea burst out laughing, her mirth echoing off the tent walls, though there was a bitter edge to her laughter. "Are you joking?" she asked, amusement lighting up her face. "Have you seen those men? Most of them are nothing more than brutes, driven by their own base desires and lust for battle. They''re hardly the kind of men I''d want to leave a legacy with." She shook her head, her laughter fading as she considered her options more seriously. Khillea wanted a child, something more than just the immortal glory she had been promised¡ªa living legacy that would carry on her name and bloodline. She would sleep with a stranger, if necessary, to make it happen. But the real question was who? NovelFire-original-content None of the Greek kings, that much she was certain of. Khillea despised most of them, seeing them as weak or foolish men driven by petty squabbles and personal ambition. Agamemnon, in particular, filled her with disdain. The thought of bearing a child with a man like him made her skin crawl. Then there was Menelaus¡ªpathetic in his obsession over Helen, as if his lost queen was the only thing that mattered in the world. Maybe Odysseus, she mused for a brief moment. He was cunning and intelligent, traits Khillea could respect. But even that idea quickly died. Odysseus was utterly devoted to his wife, Penelope. His loyalty to her was renowned, and Khillea knew that trying to seduce a man like him would be pointless. "There will be definitely someone worthy of you." Briseis said but didn''t think really that. Her thoughts about the Greek men were really not good. For her they were all trashes after she had witnessed what they had done to her city and to the women... "Maybe..." Khillea mumbled not believing herself that she will ever find someone worthy of her. As expected she will just have to sleep with the first stranger who seemed somewhat good enough. Chapter 181: Gwens doubting In the camp of the Heroes of the Empire of Light, the air was thick with conflicting thoughts. Among the ranks, there was a division. Half of them had abstained from the battle at Lyrnessus, not out of cowardice, but because the battle felt meaningless¡ªa pointless expenditure of energy. Some simply couldn''t muster the interest to engage in a skirmish that offered no immediate reward. They hadn''t come to this war out of any deep-seated loyalty or purpose, but rather at the beckoning of Hera. Liphiel had made it clear: gaining the favor of a goddess like Hera could offer unimaginable benefits. She might even be their ticket back to Earth. That promise alone was enough to bind them to her cause. In addition to Hera''s influence, there was another reason stirring among the Heroes¡ªthe myths. These heroes were no strangers to the legends, tales of gods, demigods, and mortals destined to triumph in epic battles. They believed, or perhaps convinced themselves, that fighting on the side of the Greeks meant fighting on the side destined to win. To them, it wasn''t a gamble; it was a sure thing. Victory was preordained, or so they thought. Joining a war where the outcome seemed written in the stars was enticing. The allure of being part of a destined victory was too strong to resist. However, beneath that confident exterior, there were whispers. A few of them, though they would never dare voice it openly, harbored doubts. This wasn''t Earth. These were not mere myths playing out in front of them. And there was no certainty that this war would end the way the stories told. The realization gnawed at the edges of their thoughts, but they kept it buried deep. Inside one of the many tents scattered throughout the camp, the air was stifling. Aisha, one of the Heroes, slipped quietly into a specific tent, her movements careful and deliberate. The scent of healing herbs and the sterile tang of medicine clung to the fabric, almost overpowering. On the bed, resting, her arms and head swathed in bandages, was Gwen Lawrence. She lay there, exhausted, her body aching from the recent battle in Lyrnessus. Though Liphiel''s healing magic had mended her wounds, the fatigue remained¡ªa deep, bone-weary exhaustion that no magic could wash away. Even Iphlea, Gwen''s trusted companion, lay limp beside her, clearly just as worn out. As soon as Gwen spotted Aisha at the entrance, her expression soured. A frown pulled at her lips, and she grumbled, "What are you doing here?" Her voice was rough, edged with annoyance. Gwen hated being seen like this¡ªwounded, vulnerable, bedridden. It was an affront to the image of strength and pride she clung to. Aisha, unfazed by Gwen''s irritation, took a step closer. "Just checking on you. What happened?" she asked, her tone soft but curious. Despite their prickly personalities, Aisha and Gwen shared a bond¡ªan odd relationship born from their shared status as loners. They weren''t best friends, but there was a mutual understanding between them, a silent respect for each other''s solitude. For a moment, Gwen didn''t respond, her jaw clenched, eyes staring ahead. The tent''s silence felt heavy, broken only by the occasional flicker of wind outside. Aisha pressed on, a small frown forming. "Was it Hector? Aeneas? Or maybe that Amazon queen, or Atalanta?" She listed off the names of the dangerous warriors in the Trojan''s side, the ones Liphiel had warned them about. Gwen''s hands tightened into fists, the knuckles going white under the strain. "None of those," she muttered, her voice carrying a deep bitterness. Her grip on the sheets tightened as the memories of the battle flooded back, unbidden. "His name was Heiron..." Aisha''s brow furrowed. "Heiron?" The name wasn''t familiar to her. She didn''t recall Liphiel mentioning him. "He... he''s a monster," Gwen continued, her voice trembling, not from fear but from the humiliation of being so thoroughly outmatched. Aisha stood there, stunned. Gwen was always the proud one, the fighter who never backed down, never admitted weakness. To hear her call someone a monster¡ªa being that had so easily bested her¡ªwas shocking. Gwen, with all her strength and pride, had been broken by this mysterious warrior. What Gwen couldn''t know, what she couldn''t possibly have guessed, was how much had changed since that battle in Uteska. Nathan, the one she remembered as the ice-wielding demon, had undergone numerous transformations since then, each one reshaping not just his appearance but his very essence. His mana had evolved, twisted by the forces he had encountered, and now it was nothing like the energy Gwen had once felt. And, beyond that, he no longer looked the same, his appearance altered dramatically after enslaving Amaterasu. The man she had fought at Lyrnessus, Heiron, was not someone she could recognize¡ªnot anymore. "Take care, then," Aisha said, cutting through the silence. She didn''t press further, sensing Gwen''s inner turmoil, and without waiting for a reply, she turned and left the tent. Outside, the cold night breeze greeted her, brushing against her skin and making her hair dance in the wind. The chill in the air felt refreshing, almost cleansing, after the stifling tension inside. She took a deep breath, letting the coolness calm her mind as she wandered away from the cluster of tents that housed the other Heroes. As Aisha wandered further, the surroundings gradually changed, and before she realized it, she had entered the territory of the Greeks. "Look!" The call came from a group of Greek soldiers lounging near a fire, their eyes lighting up as they caught sight of her. "It''s one of those women from that Empire!" A few of them chuckled, nudging each other, their eyes lingering on Aisha with lascivious gazes. "She''s super hot!" "Hey, cutie! How about playing with us tonight?" one of them jeered, standing up and swaggering toward her, emboldened by the laughter of his comrades. Another chimed in with a lewd grin, "We''ll make you feel like a real woman!" m|v|l|e m|p|y|r original content Their voices were a cacophony of insults and uninvited advances, their vulgarity hanging in the air like a thick fog. She moved with a steely grace, her dark eyes fixed ahead, refusing to dignify their taunts with a reaction. But then, her feet came to an abrupt halt. Something...or rather, someone had caught her attention. Amidst the noise and the dim glow of campfires, her gaze settled on a solitary figure, standing apart from the other Greeks. Unlike the boisterous soldiers who had tried to get her attention, this man radiated a silent, strong presence. He was dressed in the unmistakable armor of a Spartan. Chapter 182: Aishas attacked! Amidst the noise and the dim glow of campfires, her gaze settled on a solitary figure, standing apart from the other Greeks. Unlike the boisterous soldiers who had tried to get her attention, this man radiated a silent, strong presence. He was dressed in the unmistakable armor of a Spartan. He stood alone, framed by the roar of the forest fire. The flames licked the sky with hungry tongues, casting a pulsating orange glow on his figure, but he didn''t flinch. His eyes, icy blue and piercing, were locked onto something hidden in the chaos of burning woods. His mouth was obscured by a rough cloth, but there was no mistaking the cold intensity in his gaze. Aisha couldn''t tear her eyes away. He felt it, she could tell. His attention shifted. Slowly, he raised his head and their eyes met, icy blue against the dark brown of hers. The world around her seemed to still, her breath caught in her throat. A heat stirred in her chest, something she couldn''t explain¡ªwas it the fire''s reflection in his gaze, or something deeper, darker, pulling her in? He held her gaze for only a second longer, then turned his back as if uninterested, walking away into the heat haze, leaving her in a moment of quiet confusion. What was it about him? Before she could gather her thoughts, rough hands grabbed her. Her arms were seized from both sides, the sharp bite of calloused fingers digging into her skin. She twisted her head around, heart racing, to find three men leering at her, their faces twisted with ugly grins. Their clothes were stained with the grime and sweat of battle, their breath sour as it hit her face. "Wh..what are you?" she hissed, glaring at them, eyes flashing with defiance. "You''re coming with us, woman," one growled, his voice thick with lust. He grinned wider, enjoying her expression. "Let me go." She said coldly. They didn''t bother to respond. One of them slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her protest as they dragged her across the camp. She struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grip was iron, and her strength meant nothing against their sheer size. Within moments, they had forced her into a tent, tossing her roughly to the ground like a trophy claimed after a long hunt. Aisha hit the floor with a grunt, quickly spinning around to face them, her hand instinctively reaching for her blade¡ªbut before she could draw it, a shadow loomed over her. A massive hand shot out, wrapping around her throat with the force of a vice, lifting her clear off her feet. Her eyes widened in shock as she was pulled up, her body dangling in the air as she clawed at the hand gripping her neck. She quickly saw the identity of the man. "Save some for us, will ya?" Ajax''s men jeered, their voices thick with lust. They were already imagining the ways they''d use her, already hungry for the spoils of their king''s conquest. Ajax threw his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound that made the tent walls shudder. "Gahahaha! Maybe when I''m done with her! If she''s not broke by then!" His eyes, blazing with lust and cruelty, turned back to Aisha as he towered over her, the smirk on his face widening. "But I doubt she''ll last that long." His men backed out of the tent, closing it behind them, the sound of their laughter fading into the night. With his free hand, Ajax gripped the front of her armor, his fingers curling around the leather and metal like it was nothing more than paper. He pulled hard, ripping it apart with a brutal strength, the sound of tearing fabric and snapping straps filling the air. Now only the white cloth a bit torn was visible showing a glimpse of her cleavage making Ajax''s narrowing further in excitement. Ajax''s smirk widened as his fingers dug into Aisha''s soft cheeks, twisting her face up towards him. Her beauty, even in distress, captivated him. "What a face you have," he growled, voice dripping with lust. He leaned in close, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. "I''ll fuck you all night. Scream as loud as you want, no one will come. They''ll just think I''m breaking in another one of my rewards." The camp outside was filled with men who''d done just that¡ªconquered and claimed. Women''s screams had long since lost any meaning, reduced to background noise in the victory of war. Ajax''s tent was no different. To anyone who passed by, it was just another conquest, another woman to be used. His impatience grew, his hand sliding lower to the waistband of his loose skirt, fingers curling around the fabric. His cock, hard and throbbing, strained against the cloth, eager to claim the woman beneath him. But just as he moved to free himself, something cold and sharp pressed against his neck, freezing him mid-motion. The blade''s icy tip bit into his skin, a chill crawling up his spine. "Move, and I''ll pierce your throat." Chapter 183: Aishas pain "Move, and I''ll pierce your throat." Ajax''s eyes flicked to the side, and there she stood. Sienna. Her presence was like a dark storm, her black hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her blue eyes colder than the steel she pressed against him. She was breathtaking, more so than even Aisha, her beauty matched only by the lethal intent in her gaze. Her hand was steady, the blade poised to end his life with the slightest flick of her wrist. Ajax hadn''t expected this¡ªhadn''t sensed her approach. She could kill him where he stood. And yet, she didn''t. Her restraint was barely contained, but she knew the consequences of such an action. Killing a Greek king, even one as hated as Ajax, would bring the full wrath of the greeks, their armies or maybe the Gods who blessed him. "Release your filthy hand from her," Sienna ordered. Ajax''s grin didn''t falter, though the muscles in his arm relaxed, his grip loosening from Aisha''s throat. Slowly, he raised his hands in mock surrender, still savoring the situation even as he was forced to yield. "As you wish," he said, his voice low and dangerous, as if daring her to strike anyway. Aisha gasped, her chest heaving as air flooded back into her lungs. She coughed violently, the red marks of his fingers still imprinted on her neck as she struggled to sit up, her body trembling from both the attack and the sudden release. "Move away," Sienna ordered, her blade pressed harder against Ajax''s neck, the sharpness of the steel biting into his skin just enough to draw a thin line of blood. Her tone held an authority Ajax hadn''t heard in years, an authority that made even his own blood chill for a second. Ajax''s eyes flicked between the two women before looking at Sienna. This one was different. Stronger than Aisha. Sharper, deadlier, and far more willing to spill blood if provoked. She could kill him. But she wouldn''t¡ªnot yet. Ajax knew the cost of a fight here, and though he could overpower her, the wounds he''d sustain wouldn''t be worth it. Not now. Not with the others nearby. "Fine," he said, stepping back, the mocking smirk never leaving his lips. His towering form retreated, but the hunger in his eyes remained, lingering on both of them. "But I''ll remember this." He touched the thin cut on his neck, wiping the small bead of blood with his thumb before leaving jumping above the three dead bodies of his comrades. Sienna didn''t let her guard drop, the sword still held steady, tracking every step he took. Only when Ajax had moved far enough away did she lower her blade. "Are you alright?" She asked, turning her gaze to Aisha. But Aisha? Aisha was a different story altogether, and it was clear that Sienna''s patience was wearing thin with her. Sienna shifted, the coldness in her eyes softening for just a moment before her lips parted again. She hesitated, perhaps debating whether to say what was on her mind. But in the end, she chose not to. Instead, she turned toward the entrance of the tent. "Don''t be late. I won''t come for you again." Without waiting for a response, Sienna stepped outside, the flap of the tent closing behind her with a soft rustle. Aisha sat still, her hands resting on the rough surface of the wooden table beside her. Her fingers curled into fists, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed tighter and tighter. "N...Nathan..." she whispered, her voice raw and broken, the sound barely escaping her constricted throat. There were no tears in her eyes, but the pain was carved deep into her expression. Her face twisted with anguish, the hurt so intense it threatened to break her entirely. He had stolen her heart...and then vanished from her life. How could she ever forgive him for that? Nathan, because of his absurd LUCK had left too deep a mark on her soul. He had no idea, no awareness of how much he had impacted her. How much of herself she had lost the day he disappeared from her world. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much time passed, Aisha couldn''t forget him. He haunted her every thought, every moment of silence, until it was all she could do not to scream from the weight of it. Did she really not care anymore? What difference would it make if something happened to her? Nathan wasn''t there. He had been gone for so long, and in his absence, nothing felt real¡ªnothing mattered. As long as she was alive, what did it matter what became of her body, her strength, her purpose? It was all hollow now, a shell of what once was. The ache of his absence consumed her, numbing her to everything else. "Aisha." The sound of her name, spoken softly but firmly, startled her from her spiraling thoughts. Her gaze, which had been fixed blankly on the floor, lifted slowly. She turned, her body moving almost mechanically, to face the source of the voice. A shadowed figure stood at the far end of the tent, partially obscured by the dim light and heavy fabric walls. But even in the darkness, she recognized the outline of the armor he wore¡ªthe Spartan armor. The same armor she had seen earlier, watching silently as the flames consumed the woods. Chapter 184: Meeting Aisha after nine months... (1) "Aisha." The sound of her name, spoken softly but firmly, startled her from her spiraling thoughts. Her gaze, which had been fixed blankly on the floor, lifted slowly. She turned, her body moving almost mechanically, to face the source of the voice. A shadowed figure stood at the far end of the tent, partially obscured by the dim light and heavy fabric walls. But even in the darkness, she recognized the outline of the armor he wore¡ªthe Spartan armor. The same armor she had seen earlier, watching silently as the flames consumed the woods. That voice... Aisha froze at the sound. She had never heard such a deep, velvety voice before, but something in its resonance stirred a distant, almost forgotten memory. It was as though a string within her heart had been gently plucked, vibrating with a familiarity she couldn''t place. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. Before her stood a man. His curly black hair was slicked back, gleaming under the soft light, and his piercing icy blue eyes locked onto hers. The intensity of his gaze was so cold, it sent shivers down her spine, as if his mere look could encase her in ice. Yet, beneath the coldness, there was something unsettlingly familiar. He smiled¡ªa small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips. "Ha..." The sound escaped Aisha''s lips before she even realized it, a strange mix of disbelief and shock. Her mouth hung open slightly, her breath caught in her throat. His face, his voice, even that fleeting smile¡ªit was all different. And yet, that smile. That smile reminded her of someone. Someone who had once smiled at her in just that way. Her heart stuttered, her lips trembled, and her wide eyes shimmered with uncertainty. It couldn''t be him. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into the soft fabric of the tablecloth beneath her, as if grounding herself in reality. Her gaze never wavered from his face. She studied every detail with painstaking precision, searching for proof, some unmistakable sign that it wasn''t merely a cruel illusion. But the more she looked, the more her heart screamed the truth she wasn''t ready to believe. Deep inside, she already knew. The moment he had called her name, the moment he smiled, that hope she had buried long ago resurfaced like a tidal wave. But she was terrified¡ªterrified that this was just another one of the countless dreams she had suffered through since his supposed death. Another nightmare that would leave her shattered when she awoke. "It''s been a while, Aisha." His voice was clearer this time, steady and unmistakable. Aisha''s breath hitched in her chest, and in that instant, her body moved on its own. She surged forward, leaping over the table without a second thought, and crashed into him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce embrace. "I-it''s really you?! Na... Nathan?!" She clung to him desperately, as if he might vanish if she let go. Her face pressed into his chest, the cold metal of his armor beneath her cheek, but she didn''t care. Her shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked her body, her tears spilling freely, dampening the smooth surface of his armor. Each tear felt like a release, years of pent-up pain and longing finally pouring out. Nathan''s arms circled her gently, pulling her closer with a tenderness that broke the final dam of her resistance. "Yes, it''s me," he whispered softly, his breath warm against her hair. As he hugged her, Nathan had a weird face berating himself for having revealed himself yet seeing Aisha crying relieved as if she felt alive again, he didn''t regret. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã A few minutes earlier. I couldn''t get close to his tent. I had been circling the encampment for what felt like hours, my steps measured and cautious, each passing minute sending spikes of frustration through my veins. Every now and then, I cast fleeting glances toward Agamemnon''s main tent, where the figure of the ruthless king loomed like a dark shadow within. It was the perfect moment. Agamemnon was there, and Astynome¡ªshe was so close, just within reach. But standing in the way were two grim-faced guards, their spears gleaming dully in the campfire light, positioned at the tent''s entrance like impenetrable sentinels. Without thinking, I moved, my steps heavy with intent. The only thought in my mind was to kill the man inside, whoever he was. No mercy. No hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered violence and in the most cruel way possible. But before I could act, something stopped me in my tracks. Screams pierced the air¡ªloud, sharp cries that were quickly silenced. I froze, and blood splattered just outside the tent''s entrance. My gaze darted to the source of the chaos, and there she was. A woman with a veil of long, black hair tied in a ponytail, moving with deadly grace. My breath caught in my throat as a wave of nostalgia washed over me. I recognized her immediately. Sienna. She slipped into the tent before I could react, and I silently positioned myself behind the thick fabric. I listened closely, waiting. Moments passed, and the sounds from within told me what I needed to know. Sienna had intervened just in time, driving the bastard away before he could go any further. Aisha had been saved, but instead of relief, the air inside the tent was thick with tension. A bitter argument followed. "Were you even trying to escape, Aisha?" "You''ve faced worse, Aisha. Why didn''t you fight back? Why let yourself get to that point?" Sienna''s frustration was high, and her words echoed in the space between them, but what caught my attention more than anything was Aisha''s silence. She didn''t respond. Not a single word. Why wasn''t she fighting back? Why wasn''t she retorting like she used to? I''d known Aisha for long enough to know that silence wasn''t like her. It felt wrong. So wrong. Something was terribly off. It was as if she had given up¡ªlike she was just existing, not living. Just... drifting. And seeing her like that, broken and downcast, pained me in ways I couldn''t have imagined. This wasn''t the Aisha I knew, the fierce girl who would stand her ground no matter what despite being silent. I carefully peeked inside the tent. There she was, sitting with her head bowed, her shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her. Her face was drawn, her expression hollow. And seeing her like that¡ªit seemed really pricking my heart. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to rush in and pull her into my arms, consequences be damned. My heart screamed at me to do something, to help her, to let her know that I was there. But something held me back. Maybe it was guilt, maybe fear or just because it wasn''t the right time yet... But she never forgot about me. I started to turn away, to leave before I made things worse. But then I heard it¡ªa soft, broken whisper. "N...Nathan..." Her voice was barely audible, a pained mumble echoed, damaged, but unmistakable. I froze, my body going rigid. My mind raced, but there was no hesitation in my movements. Without another thought, I spun on my heel, throwing the tent flap open as I stepped inside. "Aisha." Her name slipped from my lips before I could stop it. Chapter 185: Meeting Aisha after nine months...(2) Aisha''s eyes locked onto mine, wide with shock and disbelief, as if she were staring at a ghost. I couldn''t blame her; it wasn''t every day that someone you thought dead suddenly reappeared in front of you. Her expression wavered¡ªhesitation, confusion, fear. It was all there, battling beneath the surface. I took a breath, my voice softer than before as I broke the silence between us. "It''s been a while, Aisha." At the sound of my voice, something in her snapped. Her hesitation melted away, and without warning, she leaped over the table, closing the distance between us in an instant. Her arms wrapped around me with desperate intensity, as if she was afraid I would vanish if she didn''t hold on tight enough. "I-it''s really you?! Na... Nathan?!" Her voice trembled with a mix of joy and disbelief as she clung to me, her tears falling freely, soaking the armor I wore. Her body shook with each sob, and I could feel the warmth of her tears against the cold metal of my armor. I wanted to comfort her, to let her know it was really me, but the hard steel between us made our embrace feel distant, impersonal. I silently cursed the armor for being in the way. I could feel her hands gripping me tightly, as if she feared I might disappear again. She wept uncontrollably, her face buried against my chest. I let her cry, feeling the weight of the moment settle over us like a heavy shroud. For what felt like an eternity, we stayed like that, her sobs the only sound in the stillness. After a long minute, she pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face tilting up to look at me once more. Her eyes, red and puffy from crying, searched mine, filled with confusion and a need for answers. "H...how is this possible, Nathan...? I thought you died... They said... they told me you were gone... I don''t understand..." Her voice was shaky, her words tumbling out in a desperate stream as her mind struggled to process the impossible. She kept mumbling to herself, lost in the whirlwind of emotions and disbelief. It was understandable. Liphiel had undoubtedly crafted a convenient story about my disappearance, probably blaming it all on the Demons while painting herself as the savior. That woman was cunning¡ªtwisting truths to suit her needs. The mere thought of her filled me with a burning hatred that simmered just beneath the surface. I will definitely kill this woman when the opportunity arises. "It''s a long story," I finally replied, my voice tight with restraint. Aisha looked up at me again, her brows furrowing as if she was starting to piece things together. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, flickered with recognition. "It''s... the Divine Knight, isn''t it?" she asked, her gaze piercing straight into mine. I had warned her before. I had told her to be cautious of Radakel and, by extension, the Divine Knights. They were all tied to the corrupt Empire of Light, a web of deceit and power. Aisha had reached the correct conclusion, as always. Her intuition had never failed her. I didn''t answer immediately, but my silence spoke louder than words. Aisha''s jaw clenched, and I saw the anger flare in her eyes. She had every right to be furious. "That day," I began, my voice lowering as I recalled the memory, "Liphiel tried to kill me. I should have died, Aisha. Everyone thinks I''m dead, and honestly, it''s better if it stays that way¡ªfor now, at least." Aisha''s expression shifted, confusion swirling within her as she tightened her grip on my chest. "B-but why? Why would you let them believe you''re dead? Why hide?" Her voice was small, almost pleading, as if she couldn''t comprehend why I would make such a choice. As I watched her, my mind shifted to something darker. My eyes drifted over her form, catching glimpses of her torn clothes and her breasts. But I wasn''t feeling aroused by this sigh as it only reminded me of what had nearly happened to her moments ago in the tent. King Ajax of Salamis... A sickening, twisted rage welled up inside me, far more dangerous than mere hatred. Sienna had driven Ajax away without killing him, no doubt to avoid the wrath of the Greek kings. She was bound by her allegiances, and antagonizing all the kings would be disastrous. Even with her strength and that of the others in the Empire of Light, fighting off the massive Greek army would be impossible, in this place. But I wasn''t a Hero of Light Empire anymore. I had no loyalty to them, never had, nor any reason to hold back. I was with Troy now. Not like it changed anything on what I was about to do to that King. "I understand better now what''s happening," Aisha nodded. I nodded to her. "We will have opportunity to see hmmmm?" Aisha''s sudden kiss caught me completely off guard. Her lips pressed against mine, and before I could process what was happening, she pushed me down with unexpected force. I instinctively wrapped my arms around her, catching her as she fell onto my chest. The familiar warmth of her body sent my thoughts spiraling, but I was too stunned to react. "Before you leave again... I want you to fuck me," she whispered, her voice carrying an edge of desire, her usual calm and nonchalant expression staring down at me. I blinked, still processing her words. "Aisha?" This was not the Aisha I remembered. She had always been straight in her words, but this... this was different. I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off as if sensing my what I wanted to say. "I know about you and Courtney." Her voice was steady, and I felt her fingers grasp my arm, tearing away at the armor that covered me, exposing the simple tunic underneath. She smiled, a playful but almost possessive glint in her eyes. "I don''t care," she whispered, her lips curving into a wicked smile. "I just want to be with you right now, Nathan." Before I could respond, she leaned down and kissed me again, this time deeper, more demanding. Chapter 186: Eating Aisha (1) * "I don''t care," she whispered, her lips curving into a wicked smile. "I just want to be with you right now, Nathan." Before I could respond, she leaned down and kissed me again, this time deeper, more demanding. I stopped thinking and grabbed her. My lips crashed into hers with a fierce hunger, claiming every inch of their softness. Those lips¡ªpink, damp, and inviting¡ªmelted under mine, pliant, trembling, utterly vulnerable. Her breath hitched, her body betraying a desire even she hadn''t yet understood. The memory of her lips lingered on my fingers as I slipped them between her parted mouth, brushing the delicate flesh with a teasing stroke. Warm, wet, and yielding. A quick flick of her tongue as I pressed forward, coaxing her response, feeling her give in to the silent command in my touch. My hands, restless now, roamed over her hips, fingers trailing the curve of her waist. I wanted more, needed more. Her lips parted under my demand, but not wide enough. I growled against her skin, low and primal. "Open your mouth," I whispered, voice thick with barely restrained need. Aisha moaned, a soft sound bubbling up from deep within her, her lips trembling before she obeyed, her small mouth yielding. The space between us sizzled, crackled like a firestorm about to ignite. Before she could even breathe, I surged forward, my tongue plunging into her mouth with a hunger I could no longer control. A muffled gasp escaped her as her eyes flew open in shock. The taste of her¡ªsweet, intoxicating, maddening¡ªflooded my senses. I wasn''t just kissing her now. I was devouring her. Her teeth clinked against my tongue, and I growled again, sweeping through every part of her, tasting every hidden corner, every inch of warmth. Aisha''s breath quickened, her chest rising and falling against mine, her body growing hotter beneath my hands. Her eyes, half-lidded, sparkled with the beginnings of pleasure, cheeks flushed a vivid red. She was overheating, melting under my touch. That armor she wore¡ªcracked, torn¡ªhad long since become useless. My hands found the bare skin beneath her clothes with greedy urgency. My fingers slipped beneath the fabric, cold against her heated skin. She gasped, a delicious, broken sound, her back arching into me. "Hmmm~" she moaned, biting her lip as I pressed her closer. I smirked, licking the salty tear that had slid down her cheek, my tongue tracing the trail of moisture until I reached her lips again. My lips left soft, teasing kisses down her face, each press igniting shivers of arousal through her body, her thighs squeezing together in an attempt to quell the growing ache between them. I kissed her again, this time along the line of her jaw, trailing lower to her neck, down to the hollow of her throat, each touch deliberate, each kiss dragging her closer to the edge. Her legs rubbed against each other, restless, her need growing unbearable. I leaned close, my breath hot against her ear as I whispered, "Let''s get serious for a bit." "Hmnn!" Aisha gasped, her body jolting at the sensation of my breath tickling her ear, heightening her arousal, making her squirm beneath me. I grinned at her response, the sight of her flushed and trembling fueling my desire further. Without waiting, I slid my arms under her, lifting her easily off the ground, her body light in my grasp. I placed her on the table, her legs dangling over the edge. Aisha''s black leather pants clung to every curve of her body, the tight material highlighting the roundness of her ass, the smooth line of her thighs. The torn armor had done nothing to hide the sensuality of her figure, and now, as I crouched down, pulling off her boots with a swift motion, I took my time appreciating what was before me. Her skin was like porcelain, fair and smooth, revealed inch by inch as I peeled away the tight, sweaty leather from her legs. Aisha''s breath caught, her fingers gripping the edge of the table with white-knuckled tension as I slid the pants down, baring her soft thighs. The cool air kissed her skin, causing a visible shiver to ripple up her body, but she didn''t move, didn''t speak, her gaze fixated on me as I undressed her. With one final tug, the pants slipped off, falling to the floor in a heap, leaving her lower half exposed¡ªbare, vulnerable, perfect. Her legs spread ever so slightly, as though instinctively, inviting me closer, pulling me into the heat of her waiting body. I grabbed her legs firmly, her skin warm and smooth under my touch as I dragged her forward, pulling her to the edge of the table. Aisha''s cheeks flushed a deeper red as I looked down between her legs, where her soft, untouched pussy came into view. No panties. Not a surprise in the heat of Troy, but it made the sight even more striking. The way she sat, exposed, her fair skin contrasting with the dark, weathered wood beneath her, was nothing short of breathtaking. My eyes trailed over the delicate slit between her legs, her lips tightly closed as though untouched, not even the hint of stubble marring the soft, pale flesh. Barely any hair¡ªclean, untouched, virginal. Chapter 187: Eating Aisha (2)* No panties. Not a surprise in the heat of Troy, but it made the sight even more striking. The way she sat, exposed, her fair skin contrasting with the dark, weathered wood beneath her, was nothing short of breathtaking. My eyes trailed over the delicate slit between her legs, her lips tightly closed as though untouched, not even the hint of stubble marring the soft, pale flesh. Barely any hair¡ªclean, untouched, virginal. My eyes locked on the sight before me¡ªAisha''s pussy, glistening with her wetness, her arousal pooling and dripping down her thighs, even staining the inner fabric of her discarded pants. The evidence of her need was undeniable, soaking through, a testament to how much that kiss had wrecked her composure. She was drenched, her body betraying her with every drop. I reached out, slowly, deliberately, letting my fingertip barely graze the surface of her slit. The heat radiating from her pussy was intense, almost burning against my skin. As soon as my finger made contact, tracing the line of her tight, dripping lips, Aisha moaned. Her voice was shaky, her breath catching as her hands gripped the table for support. "Ahnn~" she whimpered, her face flushed, the sound helpless and needy as she responded to even the slightest touch. I circled around her entrance, feeling her squirm under my hand, her hips twitching involuntarily, desperate for more. Her wetness coated my finger, slick and warm. Without hesitation, I scooped up a generous amount of her juices, bringing it to my lips. I watched her as I licked my finger clean, savoring the taste of her, the salty, sweet mixture that lingered on my tongue. Aisha''s breath hitched, her eyes flicking away, her face turning redder as she tried to hide her embarrassment. "Delicious," I murmured, smirking as I let the word roll off my tongue. The taste of her lingered, intoxicating. "Don''t... tease me..." she muttered, her voice a shaky whisper, but the desire in her tone was unmistakable. "It''s not the moment to get embarrassed, Aisha," I replied, grinning wickedly as I reached up to her breasts, still hidden beneath her thin, sweat-soaked clothes. My hand brushed over her chest, feeling the softness of her breasts, but more than that¡ªher nipples, hard and erect, poked through the fabric. They were begging for attention. I grasped her breast fully, squeezing, kneading, feeling the warmth and weight of it in my hand as I continued to tease her. At the same time, my other hand remained busy, cupping her dripping pussy entirely. I pressed my palm against her slit, smearing her juices as I rubbed her thoroughly, coaxing more moans from her. "Haaa~~~ yesss," Aisha mumbled, her voice barely a whisper now, overcome by the sensations rushing through her. I could feel the way her body trembled, the way she clenched her thighs as if she couldn''t bear it any longer. A fresh wave of her cum spilled out, coating my hand as she shuddered, her legs instinctively closing around my hand. She was asking for more, pleading silently, her body betraying her every need. I obliged, massaging her small breasts while letting my fingers slide lower, teasing her slit once more. This time, I pressed a single finger forward, slipping just barely inside her tight, narrow entrance. "OUCH! AGHNNN! UGHNN!!" Aisha''s scream of pain filled the tent, her body jerking beneath me as I tore through her, her tight pussy clamping down hard on my cock as I buried myself inside her. Blood mixed with her wetness as I claimed her, fully seated inside her virgin cunt, feeling her body convulse, torn between the pain and the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely. Aisha''s scream echoed through the room as my cock pierced through her virgin wall, her body jerking in pain beneath me, her legs trembling violently as they instinctively tried to close around me. Her nails dug into the edge of the table, her face contorted in pain as she struggled to process the shock of being filled so deeply, so suddenly. But I didn''t pull out. I stayed buried deep inside her, feeling the way her tight, wet pussy clenched around my cock, so impossibly tight that it almost felt like her body was trying to push me out, but I wasn''t going anywhere. "Haa...haaaaa...hmnnn..." I gave her a moment, letting her catch her breath, her chest rising and falling heavily as she whimpered, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Her inner walls were trembling, still pulsing from the shock of penetration, but even through the pain, I could feel her body beginning to adjust, beginning to stretch to accommodate my thick length. The heat radiating from her pussy was intoxicating, the way her untouched body fought and then surrendered to the intrusion making every second more intense. I began to move, slowly at first, pulling back just an inch, feeling her slickness coat my cock as I slid out and then pushed back in. Her body resisted at first, still trembling, but each time I thrust forward, her pussy stretched a little more, easing the way for me. Aisha''s face twisted as a mixture of pain and unfamiliar pleasure washed over her. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out, only ragged breaths and quiet, broken whimpers. "Hnnn??... haaaa??... h??ahhnn..." she gasped, her voice shaky, her breath coming in short, desperate pants as I set a slow, steady rhythm, sliding in and out of her impossibly tight pussy. I could feel every inch of her, every twitch of her muscles as her body slowly adjusted to the size of me inside her. With each slow thrust, I went deeper, my cock burying itself further into her slick heat. Her pussy clamped down on me like a vice, but I could feel her body beginning to yield, the initial pain giving way to something else. Aisha''s breaths were still ragged, but the edge of pain was softening, replaced by a quiet gasp each time I pushed deeper inside her. Her legs twitched, her hips lifting ever so slightly as if her body was starting to crave more despite herself. I leaned down, my chest brushing against hers, my lips finding her neck. I kissed her skin softly, teasing her with the contrast between the roughness of my cock pounding into her and the gentleness of my lips as they traced a line down her throat. Aisha whimpered, her body trembling beneath me as I licked at the delicate skin just below her ear, her scent filling my senses. "You''re taking it so well," I whispered against her ear, my breath hot against her skin. "Your pussy is so tight, so perfect." Chapter 189: Speaking with Aisha after "HYAAAAA!!! SO HOT!! HAAAAANNN!!!" Aisha''s scream filled the air, her voice breaking as her body convulsed uncontrollably, her pussy spasming in a tight, wet grip around my cock. Her legs shook violently on my shoulders, her entire body jerking as she rode the intense waves of her orgasm. The feeling of her tight, quivering pussy squeezing me pushed me over the edge, and with a guttural groan, I released inside her, my cock twitching as I pumped her full of my hot cum. My hips jerked as I emptied myself deep inside her womb, filling her completely, my grip on her hips tightening as I held her close, not letting a drop escape. "Haaaan... so... full... Nathan..." Aisha whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper as her body continued to tremble, her pussy still twitching around me. I could feel her legs shaking, her muscles weak and spent from the intensity of her orgasm. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to regain control of her body. But even as I slowed my thrusts, my cock still buried deep inside her, Aisha''s body continued to convulse. Her hips jerked involuntarily, her pussy still milking me for every last drop, her eyes rolling back as the pleasure overwhelmed her. Her legs, still draped over my shoulders, finally gave out, falling limply to the sides as she lay back on the table, utterly spent. Her chest heaved with each labored breath, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, her face a beautiful mess of pleasure and exhaustion. I stayed inside her for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of her tight pussy wrapped around me, her body still twitching and spasming in the aftermath of her release. But as I slowly pulled out, a soft whimper escaped her lips, her body shuddering one last time before collapsing completely. My cum dripped from her still-quivering pussy, her legs trembling weakly as her body finally gave in to exhaustion. Aisha''s eyes fluttered closed, her breath slowing as she succumbed to unconsciousness, her body too overwhelmed by pleasure to stay awake any longer. I stood there, watching her chest rise and fall gently, a satisfied smirk tugging at my lips. She was mine now, every part of her. After years of liking her and nine long months in this world, I had finally fucked and made Aisha mine. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Ten minutes was all Aisha needed to regain a semblance of clarity. Her breathing, once heavy and erratic, began to steady as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her flushed skin still carried the vivid remnants of our earlier passion. I could see the glow on her body¡ªan afterglow from our intimacy¡ªilluminating her with a soft radiance that enhanced her natural beauty. I reached for a small flask, one that Amaterasu had given me. It wasn''t just ordinary water; it had restorative properties, designed to help one recover their stamina faster. I handed it to her gently, and Aisha took a slow sip, visibly revitalized with each swallow. She blinked, finally finding her voice after the intensity of the moment. "Here, I brought you a new dress," I said, draping it over the bed beside her. Aisha glanced at it briefly but seemed more interested in the closeness between us. She shifted on the bed, sitting next to me, her bare skin lightly brushing against mine, causing a new wave of heat to rise in the room. Her face remained flushed from the intensity of what we had just shared. There was an unmistakable glow that seemed to emanate from her, a kind of energy that lingered long after our bodies had cooled. She looked utterly captivating, and despite the satisfaction in my bones, my desire stirred once more. Her eyes widened slightly, and her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. She grasped my arm, fingers tracing the muscles there, her touch light but filled with curiosity. "Your arms... they''re so toned. You look so different, Nathan... What happened to you?" Her words lingered in the air, filled with wonder, but also a hint of concern. She wasn''t just admiring the physical changes in me¡ªthere was something deeper in her question, something that reflected her growing awareness of how much I had changed. Aisha had no idea of the full extent of my strength. She knew me as I had been, not as I was now. I could tell she had her doubts, perhaps sensing something had changed, but she couldn''t confirm her suspicions. I had grown adept at concealing my true presence, erasing any trace of the power that now surged within me. On top of that, I had altered my appearance subtly, enough to ensure that even those closest to me wouldn''t easily recognize the full transformation. "Things happened," I began, my voice steady as I decided not to hide the truth any longer. "I was summoned by Tenebria. That''s how I escaped death." "Tenebria?" Aisha''s eyes widened in shock, her expression a mixture of disbelief and confusion. She stared at me for a long moment, as if piecing together fragments of information that had eluded her until now. "You... you''re the Hero of Darkness? W-what happened at the border of Tenebria? The one who pushed Kastoria''s forces back... was that...?" "It was me," I confirmed with a nod. There was no point in denying it. "I became some sort of Lord Commander there. The demons have treated me better than anyone from the Empire of Light ever did." At my words, a wave of sadness crossed Aisha''s face. I could see the guilt flickering behind her eyes, the weight of her helplessness gnawing at her. She probably blamed herself for not being able to save me back then, for not preventing the circumstances that led to my supposed death. But how could she? I had kept too much hidden from her, from everyone. "You have nothing to feel guilty about, Aisha," I said, my voice firm yet gentle. "This was my decision. Everything that''s happened, it was all part of the path I chose." She looked down, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on her lap. "I understand," she whispered, though I could sense the pain lingering in her tone. I leaned closer, my gaze locking with hers, ensuring she grasped the seriousness of what I was about to say next. "Aisha, everything I''ve told you¡ªkeep it secret. For as long as you can. For your own safety, you need to stay within the Empire of Light. Continue to fight for them, just as you''re doing now." Aisha''s hands clenched into tight fists, her knuckles whitening under the strain. The fury she felt was palpable, directed not at me, but at the Empire of Light, at the Divine Knights who had betrayed me, who had pushed me to this point. She wanted to lash out, to do something, anything to make a difference. But the truth was, she couldn''t. "Yes," she murmured, her voice low and laced with reluctance. Chapter 190: Father? Aisha''s hands clenched into tight fists, her knuckles whitening under the strain. The fury she felt was palpable, directed not at me, but at the Empire of Light, at the Divine Knights who had betrayed me, who had pushed me to this point. She wanted to lash out, to do something, anything to make a difference. But the truth was, she couldn''t. "Yes," she murmured, her voice low and laced with reluctance. It was a relief to finally speak with Aisha after all these months of silence. Seeing her again, hearing her voice, it felt like a burden had been lifted from my chest. Honestly, I felt even better after being with her intimately¡ªit gave me a sense of connection I hadn''t realized I was missing. It was selfish, perhaps, but it was the truth. "But you''re the Hero of Darkness..." Aisha''s voice trembled slightly as she repeated the words that had been drilled into her by the Divine Knights. "Liphiel kept saying you''re the greatest enemy of the Empire, and that your death is the key to us going back to Earth." Her words dripped with the hatred she felt toward Liphiel. I could see it in her eyes¡ªthe rage, the frustration. Everything Liphiel had told them was designed to paint me as a villain, a threat that needed to be eliminated. It disgusted me how easily the Divine Knights spun their web of lies. "They''re experts at spreading lies," I said with a sigh, shaking my head. "Don''t believe a single word that comes out of her mouth. But for now, as much as you might hate it, Liphiel is your greatest ally. In this place, she''s the one who''ll keep you alive." Aisha''s lips twisted in distaste, her anger barely contained. I knew how much she despised Liphiel, and for good reason. But I also knew that Liphiel wouldn''t let anything happen to Aisha¡ªnot as long as she was one of their precious Heroes. "I want to kill her," Aisha said suddenly, her voice cold, the hatred surfacing in her eyes. I stared at her, my expression serious. "Don''t, Aisha," I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument. "If she even gets a whiff of you being a threat, she''ll kill you without hesitation. They weren''t sure if I was involved with Oscar, and they still tried to kill me." Aisha hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Were you involved?" I gave her a look¡ªone that told her everything without needing to say the words aloud. I wasn''t some weak Hero with a useless skill, and I wasn''t going to play by the Divine Knights'' rules. She was starting to realize that now, bit by bit. "He wanted to kill me and he tried to attack teacher Amelia while she was sleeping," I said, my voice steady, watching her closely. "I killed him." Aisha''s eyes widened in shock, but then she nodded quickly, accepting my words without question. I had the distinct feeling that even if I didn''t have a valid reason, Aisha wouldn''t have cared. She was too deep in her love for me, too willing to trust me no matter what I did. "Poor teacher Amelia," Aisha said softly after a moment, her voice filled with sadness. "Since your death, she''s been really depressed, you know? But now, she has a daughter. Maybe it''ll help her think about happier things..." "Sara," Aisha replied softly. "Sara..." I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue as if it already belonged to me, to my life. "That''s a good name." I mumbled, pretending to be indifferent, though deep down, the name resonated within me. An unexpected longing surged through me¡ªa fierce, almost primal urge to go to the Empire of Light, to see Amelia, and to lay eyes on the child. My child. It gnawed at me, this sense of responsibility and guilt. If I was indeed the father, I should have been there for her, to support her through it all. Yet, the thought of Sara being born in the Empire of Light left a bitter taste in my mouth. The idea that she had drawn her first breath in a place that now felt like the enemy unsettled me. It gnawed at the part of me that longed for control, for power. "A lot has changed since your death, Nathan," Aisha murmured, her voice heavy with a sadness that had settled over her like a shroud. The mere mention of the Empire of Light seemed to bring a shadow over her features. I wanted to press her, to demand every detail of what had happened, but time was slipping away from us. Sienna would return soon if Aisha wasn''t back, so I had to send Aisha back to her camp before things became too complicated. "We should stop here for now, Aisha. We''ll have time to talk later¡ªperhaps when things calm down," I said, rising to my feet, my gaze flicking toward the entrance of the tent. "I won''t fight if you''re with Troy..." Aisha mumbled, her voice tinged with an almost defeated resignation. "Not that you could," I replied with a smirk, eyeing her trembling legs. "You''re still shaking from our hard sex." "Shut up," she shot back, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. She reached out to punch me, her fist weak but playful. I caught her arm before she could land the blow, my grip firm yet gentle. My eyes met hers, and for a moment, I let my guard down. There was something I needed to tell her¡ªsomething she needed to hear. "Aisha, listen to me." My voice dropped, growing serious. "I''m alive. I''m here. You don''t have to feel sad or lost anymore. You don''t have to think your life is meaningless. Because your heart¡ªyour body¡ªthey belong to me. You don''t have the right to give them to anyone else. Do you understand?" I held her gaze, waiting for her response. Her eyes, once dulled by grief and confusion, seemed to light up with a familiar intensity. No, it was more than that¡ªthis time, the light in her eyes was fierce, almost obsessive, a reflection of the deep devotion she carried for me now. "Yes~~" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. I kissed her one last time, a lingering kiss filled with all the unspoken words between us, before pulling away and stepping outside the tent. Chapter 191: Khillea wants to get Pregnant? Khillea was shocked. But to understand why, we need to go back ten minutes earlier. "What are you going to do with me?" Briseis asked nervously, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Despite the kind words Khillea had spoken earlier, there was still an unsettled feeling in her chest. Why had she been brought here, if not to be part of the prize? Khillea had won the battle¡ªwhat did she need with Briseis, a slave? In truth, Briseis regretted following. Yet at the same time, she couldn''t help but feel some strange relief. The woman standing before her didn''t exude the savage brutality that her mind had conjured. Khillea, though infamous, wasn''t the beast she had feared. Still, confusion reigned over her thoughts. Khillea stood up from the basin, water droplets clinging to her skin, cascading in delicate rivulets down her toned, elegant body. Her sharp, yet feminine features were softened by the way the water glistened on her, highlighting every line and curve. Droplets slipped down her neck, trailing between the firm mounds of her breasts, until some slid down to her hardened nipples before continuing over the gentle rise of her belly. The water traced the graceful curve of her hips and thighs, pooling slightly at the warm space between her legs, drawing Briseis''s attention to the perfection of her untouched femininity. Without a word, Khillea took a towel draped over a nearby chair, wrapping it loosely around herself, then using another towel to quickly pat herself dry. She moved with the fluid grace of a warrior, every step measured, every movement intentional. As she stepped out of the basin and onto the cool marble floor, she smiled¡ªa smile that spoke of secrets yet unshared. "I want you to witness something," Khillea said, her tone casual but laced with an undercurrent of significance. "Witness what?" Briseis''s confusion deepened. The idea of being a passive observer, especially in this strange, intimate setting, made her uneasy. She had expected anything but this. "You know I am a woman, Briseis," Khillea continued, her voice soft yet steady. "And I want you to witness the end of my life." The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, echoing in Briseis''s mind. She blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly. "The end... of your life?" she repeated, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean? Why would you¡ª" Her voice faltered. Khillea''s gaze drifted towards the open window, where the evening sky was turning a dark shade of violet. "Patroclus knows," she said quietly. "But I don''t want to burden him with this tonight. He''ll have to bear enough when it''s done." There was a somberness in her tone, and for the first time, Briseis saw something beyond the fierce warrior Khillea had always been known for¡ªa vulnerability, a quiet acceptance of fate. It unsettled her even more. Khillea smirked, a sharp expression pulling at her lips, as if the answer to the question were too obvious. Briseis had just finished helping Khillea put on her armor, piece by piece, fastening the straps that hid nearly every inch of her skin. The polished bronze gleamed in the dim light, each segment carefully crafted to encase Khillea''s body. As the armor settled into place, it transformed her¡ªwhere moments ago stood a woman with a soft, elegant beauty, now there was a figure that, with a hardened gaze and powerful stance, looked unmistakably like a strikingly handsome man. It wasn''t strange at all, Briseis thought, as she stepped back to admire the transformation. After all, even the gods, like Apollo, were rumored to possess a beauty that bordered on the feminine. Born of the beautiful goddess Thetis, Khillea''s delicate features weren''t questioned by anyone. Her appearance was simply attributed to divine lineage, the favor of the gods. In the end, all she had to do was hide the curve of her breasts beneath the armor, and no one would suspect the truth. "I''m going to find a good man to get me pregnant, of course," Khillea said nonchalantly, sliding on her helmet with a practiced ease. The words struck Briseis like a slap. "What?" she asked, stunned by the absurdity of the statement. To her, it sounded as though Khillea was planning to walk out into the night and pick the first man she saw to father her child. Was that really her plan? And yet, as Briseis looked into Khillea''s eyes, she realized she wasn''t joking. There was a fierce, unshakable seriousness in her tone. Khillea¡ªa virgin, as far as Briseis knew¡ªwas truly planning to give herself to a stranger this easily? It seemed unimaginable. After all these years of hiding, was she really going to cast aside her virginity in such a careless manner? "You should wait," Briseis said, her voice softer now, almost pleading. She spoke not out of selfishness, not because she wanted Khillea to stay, but from a place of concern. "There''s still time. Maybe someone worthy will come along?" Her words hung in the air, unspoken thoughts swirling in Briseis''s mind. Perhaps she felt pity for Khillea, for the years she had spent concealed behind the mask of a man, never able to confide in anyone or build meaningful friendships¡ªexcept, perhaps, with Patroclus, though even that bond had its limits. Khillea had no close female friends, no one to share her burdens or her dreams with. But Khillea only shook her head. "No," she said, her voice firm. "Today is the right day. I can''t let this opportunity slip by." Briseis understood what she meant now. There was no stopping her. Khillea had made up her mind, and nothing Briseis could say would change it. The warrior had lived her entire life under the shadow of her fate, and now, in the twilight of her existence, she had chosen to claim control over one final act: the creation of life. "At least... think a bit before choosing," Briseis sighed, her resistance weakening in the face of Khillea''s resolve. She didn''t want to imagine Khillea throwing herself at just anyone in desperation. Khillea''s eyes softened as she turned to Briseis, a rare warmth slipping through the cracks of her usual stoicism. "I will," she said with a small smile, though it didn''t reach her eyes. "I''ll be back with a man. Prepare my bed." Briseis nodded, her lips tight as she murmured, "Yes..." Chapter 192: Shocked Khillea "Achilles!" The raucous laughter of the Myrmidons echoed through the camp, their rowdy voices calling out in jest as they spotted their commander approaching. Some were still chewing on roasted meat, others drinking from overflowing goblets of wine, their boisterous mood amplified by the late hour. "What are you doing here?" one of them shouted, his grin wide and toothy. "Shouldn''t you be enjoying that princess?" "I thought we''d be hearing screams of pleasure by now!" another added, his laugh booming above the clatter of their drunken revelry. The men were fearless, knowing their commander well enough to mock him freely, thinking it all in good fun. They knew Achilles, their king and commander, was capable of laughing off their jests. To them, Achilles had already finished with the spoils of war¡ªthe woman, Briseis¡ªperhaps leaving her to wait for his next indulgence. Khillea, hidden beneath the guise of Achilles, laughed along with them, though there was a different meaning behind her smile. "I''m saving her for later," she replied, her voice steady, casual, masking the deeper thoughts racing through her mind. "You lot should be worrying about tomorrow. It''s our last trip." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle for a moment. "We march on Troy at dawn." The mention of Troy, the city that had eluded them for so long, sharpened the atmosphere for a second¡ªthough not enough to sober the men entirely. There was still too much bravado, too much confidence in their own strength and the invincibility of their legendary leader. "Don''t worry, Achilles!" a soldier hollered, raising his cup. "I can beat those Trojans even drunk!" More laughter erupted, the sound ringing through the camp like thunder. Khillea''s lips curved into a soft smile as she looked over her men. Over the years, she had grown fond of them, despite their roughness, their simple minds, and muscle-headed bravado. They were her comrades, men she fought beside, bled with, and ultimately men she would die alongside. But none of them¡ªno matter how much she respected them¡ªcould be the one she chose tonight. They were her brothers-in-arms, but they knew her too well. In the heat of passion, they might recognize the soft curves beneath her armor, the shape of her body that no amount of deception could fully hide. And that, Khillea could not allow. The risk was too great. For a moment, Khillea hesitated. She knew Briseis was right. Her decision now could change her life forever. Did she really want to tie herself to such a man? Someone who lacked honor and respect? The thought made her pause. Since she was going to die, she should at least make sure her child will be with a good father. "I''ll look a bit longer," she muttered to herself, turning away from the men with a bored expression. She was about to give up when a commotion nearby broke her thoughts. "Haiyy!!" A panicked shout filled the air. "Run!" "What the hell was that freak?" another voice screamed, breathless. "I don''t know!" came the frantic reply, followed by the sound of stumbling feet and men fleeing in terror. Khillea''s curiosity piqued as she saw two men, wide-eyed and pale, tumbling out of a nearby tent, their faces twisted in fear. Something inside had scared them witless, and Khillea couldn''t help but be intrigued. Her sharp instincts told her this was no ordinary encounter. Without a second thought, she approached the tent. As she drew nearer, the muffled sounds of moaning and the unmistakable slap of flesh against flesh reached her ears. The tent itself shook faintly, the creaking of wood and the scraping of a table audible even from where she stood. For a moment, she paused. The scene unfolding inside was one of raw, unabashed pleasure¡ªsomeone was lost in the throes of passion, completely unbothered by the commotion outside. And for reasons she couldn''t fully explain, Khillea felt a strange pull toward it, a curiosity born from years of suppressing her own desires. Cautiously, she lifted the tent''s flap and peeked inside. Chapter 193: Khilleas choice Khillea hesitated for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she stood outside the tent. The air was thick with tension, and the noises coming from within stirred something deep inside her¡ªsomething she had long kept buried. The sound of unrestrained passion washed over her like a wave, pulling her in, drawing her toward the edge of her own desires, ones she had suppressed for years. Inside, the muffled cries of pleasure echoed, the voice of a woman lost in ecstasy¡ªuninhibited, unashamed. Khillea felt a strange pull toward the scene unfolding just beyond the fabric of the tent, as if curiosity had taken root in her, compelling her to sneak a glimpse into a world she had denied herself. With a cautious glance over her shoulder, she lifted the edge of the flap ever so slightly and peeked inside. "HAAAAAN! YES!! Ahahaannn??!! Harderrrr????!!" The woman''s voice was breathy, filled with raw, sensual hunger. It sent a shiver down Khillea''s spine, making her body tingle in a way that felt foreign, unfamiliar. Despite herself, her pulse quickened. She could see the woman clearly now¡ªbeautiful, ethereal in the dim light, her body arching as she clung desperately to the man thrusting into her with an almost primal intensity. The woman''s legs trembled on the man''s shoulders, her face flushed, lips parted in a perfect expression of ecstasy. Her long hair spilled over the table like a silken river, her skin glowing with the sheen of sweat as their bodies collided rhythmically. The man¡ªhe was relentless, his powerful hips slamming against her as the table creaked beneath their weight. Khillea couldn''t help but be struck by the scene, a forbidden voyeur watching from the shadows. The man was handsome, undeniably so, his muscles taut as he moved with an effortless confidence. A lucky man, she thought fleetingly, to have a woman like this beneath him¡ªbeautiful and utterly lost in pleasure. Even Khillea, who had trained herself to ignore such things, found her gaze lingering longer than she intended. "Do you want to get pregnant, Aisha?" the man suddenly leaned in, his voice dark and intimate as he whispered into the woman''s ear. Khillea''s heart skipped a beat. Pregnant . The word struck her, sending a jolt through her body. She swallowed hard, the ache in her throat matching the strange, uncomfortable warmth building between her legs. That was her wish. A wish she had harbored in secret for so long. "Yesss! Haaaannn??! Make me pregnant, Nathan! Aahaaan??! Give me a baby!" Aisha moaned loudly, her voice a mix of desperation and bliss as she nodded frantically, her body writhing beneath his touch. Khillea felt her pulse race, her breathing quickening as her body reacted to the words. Pregnant . . Achilles had given the order, and she was bound to follow through. It wasn''t as if the man would refuse¡ªno one refused the call of Achilles. But just as she was lost in her thoughts, the familiar figure of Patroclus appeared in her path, stepping out of the shadows. His presence startled her for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a smile. "Achilles," Patroclus said, addressing her formally at first, though his tone softened when he realized who it was. "What are you doing here?" He had just finished a strategic discussion with Odysseus and was on his way back to camp when he spotted his cousin. Khillea''s grin widened, her eyes gleaming with a spark of mischief. "I found someone ready to give me a child," she declared, her voice filled with excitement, as if she had just uncovered a long-lost treasure. Patroclus nearly choked on his own breath, his face going pale for a moment. His eyes darted around, making sure no one else had overheard such a bold statement. He turned to her, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice a hushed whisper, though laced with concern. His protective instincts toward her flared up immediately. Khillea''s expression didn''t falter. In fact, she seemed more resolute. "I''m going to die in this war, Patroclus. That much is certain." Her tone was casual, but her eyes held a quiet determination. "So, I''ll leave something behind. A child. It will be my legacy." Patroclus opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He couldn''t bring himself to argue, not when she spoke so bluntly about her own fate. The thought of Khillea¡ªhis cousin, the woman he had always treated like a sister¡ªdying in this senseless war twisted something deep in his chest. But her mind was set, and he knew her well enough to understand that no amount of reasoning would sway her. "Do you know him?" Patroclus asked after a pause, hoping, against hope, that maybe there was something more behind her decision. "Is he someone you''ve been seeing? Someone you care about?" Khillea''s laugh was sharp and short, almost dismissive. "What? No. I just met him today. But he''s good enough to give me a child." She shrugged, as if the choice were as simple as selecting a new weapon for battle. Patroclus stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. "You''re really going to..." "Yes," she interrupted, her voice firm. "I''m going to fuck someone I just saw. Are you going to help me or not?" There was a finality in her words, a challenge even. Patroclus knew that nothing he could say would change her mind. He let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temple as he resigned himself to her plan. "Fine," he muttered, still uneasy but unable to deny her. "What do you need me to do?" Khillea''s smile returned, softer this time, almost girlish. "As soon as he leaves the tent, call him over. Tell him I''ve summoned him to mine." Patroclus frowned, understanding exactly what she intended, but he nodded nonetheless. "As you wish." "Good," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. Without another word, she turned on her heel and hurried off toward her tent, her heart pounding in her chest. Chapter 194: Achilless request? After speaking with Aisha, I stepped out of the tent, the cool evening air doing little to ease the tension building inside me. The main reason I''d come to her wasn''t purely for the sake of indulging in pleasure, though I won''t deny I enjoyed every moment of it. No, my real goal was something far deeper¡ªsomething more dangerous. I needed her to reclaim her will to live. Aisha was fragile, teetering on the edge of despair. I knew that much the moment I saw her, the emptiness in her eyes. By telling her she belonged to me¡ªby making her feel needed, claimed¡ªI had done more than just share a bed with her. I had sealed her obsession, yes, but it was a necessary evil. She needed something to cling to, some thread of purpose, even if it was wrapped up in a twisted loyalty toward me. My words, my presence¡ªthey would echo in her mind each time she faced death, a reminder that she wasn''t allowed to die. Not yet. I had used my skill, [Deep Voice], amplifying its effects with the absurd luck I seemed to carry. The weight of my words would take root in her subconscious. It should be enough to keep her fighting, even against the strongest enemies. As I put on the armor I''d recovered earlier, the sense of urgency gnawed at me. There wasn''t much time left, and my body was beginning to feel the strain of this place, this era. I was running out of time, and I could feel my strength faltering. I had to bring Astynome back quickly before anyone noticed that I didn''t belong here. Each minute that passed increased the likelihood of someone discovering me, and that was a risk I couldn''t afford. Just as I was about to move, a voice behind me cut through the night air like a blade. "You. Stop there." I froze. This wasn''t just any voice¡ªit was someone I recognized. If it had been an ordinary Greek soldier, I wouldn''t have cared. I could deal with them easily. But this wasn''t ordinary. The man standing behind me was Patroclus, the constant shadow of Achilles, the one who had been with him at Lyrnessus, alongside Agamemnon. This is bad. My mind raced as I weighed my options. If Patroclus suspected me, I would have no choice but to silence him before he could sound any alarms. I was stronger than him¡ªthat much was clear. But strength wasn''t the problem. The problem was his relationship with Achilles. Killing Patroclus would inevitably lead to Achilles hunting me down. And that was a fight I didn''t want. Not now, not ever. Achilles was a freak of nature, and the gods themselves seemed to take a special interest in him. Hera and Athena both regarded him highly, and I''d heard rumors that even Zeus had blessed him. Fighting Achilles would be suicidal. I clenched my fists as I entered the Myrmidon''s camp. The moment they saw me, their gazes narrowed, hostility radiating from every corner. "What are you doing here, damn Spartan?" one of them spat, his voice laced with contempt. "Fuck off before we kill you," another growled, stepping closer, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Wanna die? Did Menelaus send you?" Their taunts continued, but it was the last one that drew raucous laughter from the group. "He''s probably still whining about being cuckolded by that Paris." The mention of Helen and Menelaus sparked a wave of jeers and crude jokes among them, their voices rising in a chorus of derision. It was clear that no one here had any love for the king of Sparta. "Patroclus sends me. Achilles wants to see me," I said calmly, my voice betraying none of the apprehension bubbling beneath the surface. The Myrmidons exchanged glances, shrugged, and stepped aside without protest. They likely assumed that even if I had lied, there was no way I could pose a threat to Achilles. I took a deep breath, my mind sharpening as I began the slow ascent up the hill. Each step brought me closer to the large, imposing tent that stood at its peak, its thick cloth flaps closed tight against the outside world. The closer I got, the more acute my senses became¡ªI heightened them to the maximum, ready for any potential ambush or unseen danger. If Achilles intended to strike, I''d sense it before the blow came. Reaching the entrance of the tent, I paused for a moment, listening for any sounds inside. I could hear the faint murmur of movement, but nothing that hinted at an immediate attack. Still, I wasn''t about to let my guard down. With one swift motion, I parted the cloth flaps and stepped inside. Chapter 195: Khillea appears Reaching the entrance of the tent, I paused for a moment, listening for any sounds inside. I could hear the faint murmur of movement, but nothing that hinted at an immediate attack. Still, I wasn''t about to let my guard down. With one swift motion, I parted the cloth flaps and stepped inside. As I stepped inside, I was greeted by an unexpectedly warm interior, completely at odds with the cold hostility I''d prepared for. The tent, much larger than I had anticipated, was bathed in a soft golden glow, courtesy of the countless candles placed carefully around the space. Their flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the canvas walls, filling the air with a faint, yet noticeable scent. Incense? Perhaps. It was subtle but foreign¡ªstrange for a war camp, almost out of place. The entire setup felt surreal. Yet, the most peculiar thing was the silence. There seemed to be no one inside. My senses, heightened and ever sharp, detected nothing immediately threatening. Was this a trap? Had Achilles grown desperate enough to ambush me in his own tent? Foolish. He''d have to do better than that if he thought I''d fall for such a simple trick. My eyes, honed to see through darkness and deceit, scanned the tent with precision. I circled the room, the tension building as I neared a small, low table. That''s when I saw her¡ªa woman crouching awkwardly behind it, her presence hidden until now. Her posture was meek, almost trembling, though something in her demeanor didn''t scream fear, but discomfort. This wasn''t Achilles. Her appearance was striking¡ªcurly black hair framing her face, falling messily over her shoulders, and blue eyes that flickered with uncertainty. There was no mistaking it; this was Briseis, the supposed prize Achilles had won in battle. A beauty, no doubt, but I had expected her to be more... shattered, given what she''d likely endured in this brutal camp. Yet, she wasn''t quite the broken captive I imagined. Briseis met my gaze for a moment, though she quickly looked away, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. There was something more to her than the rumors suggested, but I didn''t have time to ponder it further. "Where is Achilles?" I asked, my voice steady but demanding. "I..." Her voice was fragile, trembling on the edge of words she couldn''t quite find. Fear? Hesitation? I couldn''t tell, but she seemed lost. I moved closer, my patience thinning. "Where is he? Why did he summon me?" Before Briseis could answer, another voice cut through the still air, one that caught me completely off guard. It came from the very heart of the tent, smooth and laced with an unsettling confidence. "Achilles isn''t here, stranger." But instead of responding with irritation, Khillea smiled¡ªa slow, seductive curl of her lips. She stepped closer, her movement fluid, and before I knew it, she was standing right in front of me. Her hand reached out, grasping mine, and she guided it¡ªslowly, deliberately¡ªuntil it rested against her chest. The fabric of her white dress was impossibly thin, and through it, I could feel the warmth of her skin, her heartbeat steady beneath my palm. Her eyes gleamed as she tilted her head, watching my reaction. "What are you going to do now?" she asked again, her voice a hushed whisper, the words hanging heavily between us. I wasn''t going to lose control, not like this. I had faced far greater temptations than this, and now wasn''t the time to let my desires take over. "I''m going to wait for Achilles," I said evenly, my hand falling away from her body. Khillea''s eyes sparkled with amusement. "You''re different from the other Spartans," she mused, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Any of your peers would have jumped at the opportunity, taken me right here and now, and fucked me all night long." Her words caught me off guard, but oddly enough, they also reassured me. If she thought I was one of the Spartans, that meant she didn''t suspect who I truly was. Achilles had no idea I was an intruder. If he did, he certainly wouldn''t have left me alone with his women like this. "There''s nothing special about controlling oneself," I replied. "Hmmm." Khillea''s gaze never left mine as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. "Maybe not," she whispered, her lips brushing lightly against my skin, "but right now, I want you to lose control." Her breath, hot and teasing, sent a surge of heat through my body. There was something dangerously alluring about her¡ªsomething far beyond the ordinary. I could feel my pulse quickening, my mind battling against the primal urges she stirred within me. No, this woman was not ordinary. There was something about her that felt... powerful. "I''m sure Achilles will kill you if he catches you seducing another man," I warned, trying to keep my voice level. The last thing I wanted was to provoke Achilles by doing something reckless with his women. But Khillea only laughed softly, the sound rich and filled with confidence. "I don''t think so," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "It was Achilles himself who asked us to entertain you before he arrives." That revelation stopped me cold. I blinked, staring at her in disbelief. Achilles... wanted me entertained? Why? What in the world was going on? I couldn''t help but feel a wave of confusion. Why was I being treated like some sort of esteemed guest? Did I do something to earn Achilles''s favor? Had I caught his attention somehow without even realizing it? Khillea''s smirk deepened as she watched my reaction, her eyes filled with a knowing glimmer. "Now, let me entertain you, Nathan." Chapter 196: Khilleas tongue work * (1) "Now, let me entertain you, Nathan," Khillea purred, her voice a melodic taunt that twisted itself into my gut like a snake coiling tighter with each word. Her lips curved into a sultry smile that was anything but innocent, the kind of expression that made men weak and reckless. But my eyes snapped open wide, the shock of hearing her say my name like a sudden knife between the ribs. Narrowing them quickly, I tried to conceal the storm brewing behind my gaze. How the hell did she know my name? It was impossible. I had been careful. Always careful. Only one scenario replayed in my mind, and I cursed myself under my breath. Aisha. It had to have been her. That moment of weakness when I was lost in her body, when every thrust made her call out my name like a prayer. It must have slipped, then. Khillea must have been listening. This was bad. If she kept uttering my name, letting it slip to the wrong ears, everything could spiral out of control. Liphiel finding out would be more than a problem¡ªit would be a death sentence. She''d call several Divine Knights to get rid of me. Meanwhile Khillea''s delicate fingers were already moving, tracing lines of heat over my chest, but I wasn''t about to let her take the lead. My hand shot up, gripping her wrist before she could go any further. Her startled gasp sent a pulse of satisfaction through me, but I kept my voice cold, cutting. "I''ll be the one entertaining you." The words were low, edged with menace. I wasn''t playing her game. I was going to make her submit, to crush whatever fantasies of power she thought she held over me. Her pulse fluttered beneath my grip, but I didn''t release her. Khillea''s throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes wide with expectation. She wasn''t just a predator¡ªthere was prey lurking underneath, waiting to be snared. She just didn''t know it yet. "Achilles¡ªor anyone else¡ªwon''t hear a damn thing about what happens here." I leaned in, letting my breath brush over her ear. "Do you understand?" "Y-Yes," she stammered, her head nodding rapidly, but her gaze was distant, glazed. Was she even listening to me? Or was she too caught up in her own twisted desires to comprehend the danger she was in? Her pupils were blown wide, lips parted like she was waiting, yearning for something. "Kneel," I commanded. "Open your mouth," I ordered, the command sharp and absolute. She blinked, hesitating for a fraction of a second, as if she hadn''t quite registered the demand. Her lips moved, forming the start of a protest, but I tugged her wrist firmly, guiding her hand up my shaft, making her feel the way my cock throbbed in her grip, hard and eager. "Open your mouth and lick it," I repeated, this time slower, more deliberate, watching her for any flicker of resistance. "Lick?" Khillea gulped, her throat bobbing as she stared at me, her pulse quickening under my firm grip. Her lips trembled for a moment before, with a hesitant intake of breath, she finally obeyed. Her mouth parted, her tongue slipping out cautiously, pink and glistening as she lowered her head. There was a moment of hesitation, as if she was still grappling with the absurdity of what she was about to do. But there was no going back now. I wasn''t going to let her stop. "Sluuurp~" Her tongue met the head of my cock, rolling over the sensitive tip in a slow, tentative swirl. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as she tasted me, her tongue moving with deliberate slowness, unsure of how to please but eager to try. She licked the ridge of the glans awkwardly, her warm tongue tracing the edges, before circling back around, flicking over the slit. "Sluuuuurp!" "Orgh..." I groaned softly, my hips shifting forward, watching the way her tongue explored me with growing curiosity. The sight of her kneeling there, her tongue swirling around the tip of my cock, was enough to send a surge of heat through me. Her lips were parted, breath warm and ragged against my skin as she struggled to keep up, her strokes still clumsy but slowly improving. "Lick it all," I ordered, my voice thick with impatience. "Don''t just play with the tip." "Sluuuurp~~sluuurp~sluurp!" Her eyes darted up to meet mine, wide and startled, but she obeyed, her tongue dragging along the length of my cock, starting at the base and working her way up. Her strokes were still awkward, but there was something intoxicating about the way she moved, the way her lips trembled around each lick, as if she was both terrified and enthralled by what she was doing. "Good girl," I muttered, my hand tightening in her hair, guiding her movements as her tongue rolled along my length, wet and eager. "Now put it in your mouth." Chapter 197: Khilleas Tongue Work* (2) "Good girl," I muttered, my hand tightening in her hair, guiding her movements as her tongue rolled along my length, wet and eager. "Now put it in your mouth." Her eyes widened further at the command, a flicker of uncertainty flashing across her face, but she didn''t resist. Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her mouth wider, the tip of my cock pressing against her lips. There was a moment of hesitation, a soft whimper escaping her as I pushed forward, the head slipping past her lips and into her warm, wet mouth. "Hmpff!" She gagged slightly, her throat constricting as I forced myself deeper, but she didn''t pull away. Instead, her tongue rolled around me, awkwardly at first, but soon finding a rhythm as she began to suck, her lips tightening around my shaft. A low grunt escaped me as I watched her struggle to take more of me, her eyes watering slightly as her lips stretched around the thick girth. Her hands clutched my thighs, nails digging into my skin as she tried to steady herself, her head bobbing slightly, sucking and licking as best she could. Her moans were muffled, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through me as I felt her throat spasm around the tip. "Take it deeper," I growled, pushing her head down further, forcing more of my cock into her mouth. "Hmppf! Gluuurp!" She gagged again, her eyes watering more, but she didn''t stop. Her lips tightened around me, her tongue working to keep up with the forceful thrusts as I guided her head, pushing her closer to the base. Her moans were growing louder, more desperate, each muffled sound sending another wave of heat coursing through me. "Hmmpff! Hmppf! Gluuurp~~sluuurp!" Khillea''s face was flushed, her cheeks bright pink as she struggled to take me deeper, her hands gripping my thighs as if to ground herself. She was drooling now, saliva pooling at the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin in messy, sticky trails as she sucked harder, her tongue rolling and flicking over the sensitive head each time I pulled back. "That''s it," I muttered, my hand tightening in her hair, my hips thrusting forward as I forced her to take more, my cock filling her mouth until she was gagging, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. "You''re doing so good." "Hhmmmppf!!" Her moans turned to whimpers, her throat tightening as I pushed deeper, the wet sounds of her gagging filling the room. Her eyes were glazed now, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to keep up, her tongue still working, though slower now, more desperate. I groaned, my grip tightening as I thrust deeper, watching her face contort with the effort. Her lips stretched wide, her jaw aching from the strain as I filled her mouth, her moans growing more frantic with each thrust. Her throat spasmed around me again, and I couldn''t help but grin at the sight of her struggling, her eyes watery and her cheeks stained with tears as she worked to please me. "God, you look so fucking good like that," I muttered, my voice a low growl. "Taking my cock so well. Achilles must be quite lucky." "Come," I said with a low growl, pulling her up roughly by her arm, her body trembling under my grip. She was still catching her breath, her lips swollen and slick from the blowjob she had just given me, but there was a hunger in her eyes, a raw desperation that made my blood thrum harder in my veins. Her lips parted, and her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as I dragged her toward the bed. Achilles'' bed. Sorry, Achilles, but I''m going to have to fuck her right here, on your bed. I didn''t care about the mess or the consequences. Right now, all I cared about was sinking myself into her, using her body for my own pleasure. I threw her down onto the bed, her body bouncing lightly against the sheets as I followed her, my knees pressing into the mattress, trapping her beneath me. "M-Make me pregnant!" she suddenly gasped out, her voice thick with lust, her eyes gleaming with something wild. Her chest was heaving, her breasts straining against the fabric of her top, and her smirk was one of wicked challenge. "Fill me with your seed," she breathed, her thighs parting as her body arched toward me. "I want you to fuck me until I''m pregnant." I couldn''t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. How many women had said those words to me? How many had begged for the same thing, wanting to carry my child, to claim a part of me for themselves? In the last months, it was a lot for a mere guy from Earth like me. But something about the way Khillea said it, the way her voice dripped with desperation and lust, sent a surge of heat through my veins. "If that''s what you want," I muttered darkly, my lips curling into a smirk of my own. Without wasting any more time, I grabbed both of her ankles, wrapping my hands firmly around her heels and pulling her closer to me, spreading her legs wide in the process. Her body slid effortlessly across the sheets, her thighs opening for me like a flower blooming under the weight of my touch. "HAAAN????!" she moaned, her voice louder than before, a wild, breathless cry that made my cock twitch in response. The sound echoed around the room, her body shuddering as if just the act of being manhandled had sent a jolt of pleasure through her. Her back arched, her breasts thrust upward, her hands gripping the sheets in tight fists as she looked at me with that same burning lust. Her voice was breathy, ragged as she begged. "Ravish me up." Her words only made me harder, the raw need in her voice driving me to the brink of control. I didn''t waste a second. My hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as I positioned myself between her legs, my cock brushing against the soaked folds of her cunt. She was dripping wet, her arousal coating my shaft as I slid the head of my cock up and down her entrance, teasing her, watching the way her body shuddered beneath me, her hips writhing as if desperate for more. "You want me to fuck you?" I asked, my voice low and taunting, leaning in closer so that my breath ghosted over her lips. "You want me to fill you with my seed, Khillea?" "Yes! Please!" she gasped, her body arching up toward me, her nails digging into my shoulders as she tried to pull me closer. Her desperation was palpable, her entire body trembling with the need to be filled, to be claimed. I grinned, positioning myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her wet slit, teasing her just a little more. "Then beg for it," I muttered, my voice thick with lust. "Beg for me to fuck you." Her breath hitched, her eyes wide and glassy with need as she looked up at me, her lips trembling. "Please, fuck me!" she moaned, her hips bucking up toward me, desperate to feel me inside her. "I want you to fuck me! I want you to fill me with your cum, please, Nathan!" That was all I needed to hear. Chapter 198 Eating Khillea * 198 Eating Khillea * Her breath hitched, her eyes wide and glassy with need as she looked up at me, her lips trembling. "Please, fuck me!" she moaned, her hips bucking up toward me, desperate to feel me inside her. "I want you to fuck me! I want you to fill me with your cum, please, Nathan!" That was all I needed to hear. I smirked down at her, the edge of her desperation burning into my skin, a flame that fed my own ferocity. Khillea''s legs trembled as I pressed her knees apart, exposing her virgin pussy glistening under the dim light. My cock twitched at the sight, the raw hunger to claim her burning in my gut. "You want me to fuck you until you''re pregnant?" I growled, positioning myself right at her tight entrance, teasing the sensitive folds. Her body arched, her breath catching as my head barely brushed against her, already slick with her arousal. Her voice broke on a desperate moan. "Y-Yes, please... make me yours! And make me pregnant!" "Heard it al....READY!" With a sharp thrust, I buried myself deep inside her, tearing through her virginity with ruthless precision. "URGHNNNN!!" Khillea cried out, the sound a harsh, breathy mix of pain and lust, her nails clawing at the sheets beneath her. Her body tightened around me, her cunt clenching hard as I drove deeper into her tight, untouched pussy. She was really virgin after all. I should be worried about Achilles'' retaliation but right now I wasn''t even thinking about this bastard but only the woman below me. "Fuck, you''re really tight," I snarled, feeling the way her walls gripped me, struggling to adjust to the size of me inside her. She gasped beneath me, her hips twitching as I pulled back only to slam into her again, the force of my thrusts making the bed creak under us. Each sharp stroke drew a pained moan from her lips, her legs trembling uncontrollably as I took her, stretching her wide open with every brutal plunge. Her tits strained against the fabric of her dress, large and perfect, begging to be freed. Without hesitation, I ripped it apart, the fabric tearing easily in my hands, exposing her heavy breasts to the cool air. They bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and flushed as I groped one in my hand, squeezing the soft flesh roughly before lowering my mouth to it. I sucked hard, my teeth grazing her sensitive nipple, drawing a choked gasp from her as I bit down. I smirked once more, grabbing her by the hips and flipping her over onto her back again. Her body moved limply, too overwhelmed to resist, her muscles trembling from the aftershocks of her climax. Her legs were spread wide, her pussy raw and swollen, glistening in the dim light. My cock was already hard again, still slick with her wetness and my seed as I lined myself up between her thighs. "Haaaa??, yess," she gasped, her voice barely more than a breathless whisper. Her eyes were half-lidded, her lips parted, still swollen from the raw passion of it all. "I-I want a baby..." "Oh, you''re going to get it, Khillea. Don''t worry." Without giving her a chance to reply, I drove into her again, my cock burying itself deep inside her dripping cunt. "HAAAN????"!She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her nails digging into the sheets as I stretched her open once more. Her pussy was even tighter now, sensitive and swollen from the first round, and the feeling of her gripping me was almost too much to bear. Her legs instinctively wrapped around my waist, her ankles locking behind me as I fucked her deep and slow, each thrust eliciting a soft moan from her lips. I watched her, my eyes fixed on the way her breasts bounced with each stroke, the way her body arched and trembled beneath me, completely at my mercy. With a smile, I grabbed strongly her by her heels, wrenching her legs off my waist and pushing them up toward her chest but something happened to Khillea when I did that. "HAAAaaaaannn????!!" She let out the loudest mouth I had heard in my life before she passed out on the bed completely wasted. I was let dumbfounded for a moment. What happened? Chapter 199 Finally looking for Astynome 199 Finally looking for Astynome "What happened?" I asked aloud, my voice cutting through the silence, though I wasn''t expecting an answer from anyone in particular. The room was quiet now, the intensity of the moment already fading. The brief encounter had come to an abrupt end, leaving me to reflect on the haze that had just passed. After what felt like such a short span of intimacy, it was already over. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, lost in my thoughts. I think perhaps I had been caught off guard by Khillea''s unique allure, her body exuding a kind of primal seduction that was hard to resist. There had been something raw and almost desperate in the way she had looked at me, the way her hands had grasped at me, trembling. She had yearned for this, whispered it into my ear with fevered breaths. Her desire to get pregnant, her need for fulfillment, was palpable. She had nearly begged for it, her voice thick with longing. As a man, maybe it was only natural to feel an urge to answer that call, to fulfill her dream, however fleeting that moment might be. I had allowed myself to give in, to lose myself in that primal exchange. But just as things were getting interesting, as I was reaching the moment where our connection seemed to peak, she had lost consciousness. A soft, almost fragile sigh had escaped her lips before she collapsed, her body unable to bear the pleasure any longer. "Maybe she''s just a very sensitive woman," I mused aloud, comparing her briefly to Courtney, who had a similar reaction. It wasn''t a question of technique or timing¡ªit seemed to be something deep within them, something about their nature. But I didn''t dwell on it for too long. Whatever. I had enjoyed myself, but now I was painfully aware of how late I was for my next engagement with Astynome. It felt like every time I was on the verge of reaching her, something or someone else got in my way, pulling me into a different direction. My mind buzzed with the weight of all the distractions piling up, but I couldn''t afford to be distracted any longer. With a deep breath, I stood up from the disheveled bedding and stripped off the remnants of my clothing, tossing my top aside and letting the cool air hit my skin. My body was slick with sweat, a mix of the travel-worn grime and the sheen of passion from the moments with Aisha and then Khillea. The tent smelled faintly of sex and the earthy scent of the camp, and I couldn''t help but smirk at the mess we had made of Achilles'' space. Approaching the basin of water, I dipped a bowl into the cool liquid and began to wash myself, letting the water cascade over my skin, rinsing away the sweat and the fatigue that had clung to me since I arrived. The sensation was refreshing, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to relish in the simplicity of the act. As the water splashed onto the ground, soaking into the dirt, I realized I had pretty much soaked Achilles'' tent floor as well. No?v(el)B\\jnn 14:51 Ah, whatever. He wouldn''t mind, I thought with a shrug. "Ahan~ yess... make... me pregnant... hmn??..." Khillea mumbled softly, still lost in the lingering haze of her climax. Her voice was weak, barely coherent, yet her words betrayed the depth of her desire even in sleep. I glanced back at Patroclus and noticed something flicker in his eyes¡ªa mixture of exasperation and resignation. He didn''t seem surprised by the scene, though it clearly affected him in some way. He looked back at me, his expression hardening once more. "Thank you. You can leave," Patroclus said flatly, his voice calm but firm. "I''ll take care of the rest." I stared at him for a moment, confusion swirling in my mind. Thank you? For what, exactly? For fucking Achilles'' woman? The thought made me smirk inwardly, though I kept my face composed. Whatever was going on in Patroclus'' head, I wasn''t about to question it. "Yeah..." I muttered, nodding slightly, still taken aback by his strange reaction. I cast him a final glance, trying to read his expression, but his face remained a mask of calm. He was a strange one, that much was clear. Without another word, I stepped past him and left the tent behind. As I descended the hill, I ignored the sound of muffled laughter from the Myrmidons stationed nearby. Their knowing grins and snickers were irritating, but I didn''t let them bother me. Instead, I focused on loosening the tension in my muscles. My arms felt heavy, so I stretched them out as I walked, followed by a few waist exercises to ease the stiffness that had settled into my body. Physically, I was drained. It wasn''t just the travel to the camp that had worn me out¡ªit was the back-to-back sessions with Aisha and then Khillea that had taken a toll. My body, strong as it was, still had its limits, and it seemed like sex had a way of exhausting me in ways battle never did or maybe it was because my body was reaching its end? Every muscle ached, and though I could feel the fatigue deep in my bones, there was also a strange sense of satisfaction coursing through me. I felt... refreshed. What I had thought would be a mundane day¡ªjust another task to infiltrate and capture Astynome¡ªhad turned into something far more enjoyable. It was hard not to smile at the turn of events. But now, I could finally focus on the task at hand: Astynome. She should still be in Agamemnon''s tent, waiting. The thought of her stirred something within me, though I quickly pushed it aside. There was work to be done, and this time, I wouldn''t allow myself to be distracted. Adjusting the scarf around my face, I began my trek toward the Mycenaeans'' camp, where Agamemnon''s massive tent loomed in the distance. Chapter 200: Saving Astynome (1) Astynome had always been raised by a loving and gentle father. Her earliest memories were of his kindness, for her mother had passed away when she was too young to remember her face clearly. Her father''s presence was constant, a source of strength, even though he harbored a secret about Astynome''s true lineage¡ªa secret that could have shattered another man''s heart. Yet, Chryses, her father, embraced it without hesitation. Astynome was beautiful beyond compare, with a sharp mind and a spirit that reflected her mother''s unwavering devotion to the god Apollo. Since childhood, Astynome had faithfully followed in her mother''s footsteps, offering prayers and sacrifices to Apollo every single day. Her devotion was absolute, woven into the fabric of her life. But only Chryses, or rather, the man who had adopted her and raised her as his own, knew the truth. Astynome was not just any child¡ªshe was Apollo''s daughter, born of the god''s divine union with her mortal mother. This revelation could have cast a shadow over their lives, but Chryses had never allowed it to change the way he saw her. To him, she was his beloved daughter, the last precious link to the woman he had lost. That she was sired by the god of light himself was inconsequential to Chryses; his love for Astynome was unconditional and also his love for his woman despite her devotion toward Apollo having reached dangerous heights. Under his care, and perhaps guided by her divine heritage, Astynome flourished. She rose swiftly through the ranks to become the High Priestess of Apollo''s temple in Lyrnessus. Her beauty, wisdom, and the few fleeting but powerful visions she received from her divine father earned her respect and reverence. These rare divinations were gifts from Apollo, glimpses of the future that guided not only her but also the people who looked to her for counsel. In her heart, Astynome felt gratitude for these gifts, believing they had helped her grow as both a woman and a leader. Yet, recently, something had changed. The visions had stopped. Where once there was light and clarity, there was now only darkness, a veil obscuring her once-clear path. No matter how deeply she prayed, how fervently she sought Apollo''s guidance, the divine touch that had once filled her with certainty had disappeared. And then, like an ill omen, Troy attacked. Astynome tried to hold on to her faith. She trusted in Apollo, in the god who had given her life, power, and wisdom. But the darkness that now clouded her mind filled her with unease. It wasn''t the fear of war or death that shook her, but the terrible silence from the god she had always revered. The timing was too cruel, too precise. Was she abandoned by her divine father? The thought lingered at the edges of her mind, a whisper of doubt that refused to leave. No. She dismissed the idea quickly. She reminded herself that all humans, whether born of gods or mortals, had their fates woven from the moment of their birth. The three sisters, the Moirai, goddesses of Fate, spun each thread of life, determining the exact moment of every person''s death. Even being the daughter of Apollo did not free her from their intricate design. Not even the gods could interfere with the destiny shaped by the Fates. Astynome accepted this truth. She had no power to change what had been written, and neither did Apollo. If this was her fate, then so be it. When the Greek armies descended upon Lyrnessus, when Agamemnon, the King of Kings, captured her, she did not resist. There was no running, no struggle. She did not attempt to escape or fight back, for in her heart she had already surrendered¡ªnot to Agamemnon, but to destiny. Astynome knew all too well what awaited her as a captive of the Greeks. It was an unspoken truth, whispered across battlefields and murmured in the shadows of war camps¡ªwomen captured by the Greeks were not just spoils of war, they were prizes to satisfy the conquerors'' most primal desires. It didn''t matter whether the captor was a lowly soldier or a king; the fate of a woman like Astynome was the same. She had heard the stories, seen the fear in the eyes of other women, and understood the brutality that lay ahead. And now, she found herself in the clutches of Agamemnon, the King of Kings, the man who led the Greek forces against Troy. Perhaps to him, she was not just a mere prize. Perhaps, in her face, he saw echoes of his own daughter, the one he had sacrificed to appease the wrath of Artemis all those years ago. A twisted reminder of the blood he had spilled for victory. But that small glimmer of recognition didn''t offer her any comfort. She was a reward to him, something to be claimed, possessed, and defiled. Agamemnon snorted dismissively. "Who cares about those brats? Just don''t wake me too early." A dark grin curled his lips as his thoughts turned to the reward waiting for him. The anticipation twisted his smile into something almost predatory. "I have... other matters to attend to tonight," he added, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction. Odysseus, ever observant, saw the gleam in Agamemnon''s eyes and immediately understood. The King of Mycenae was thinking about Astynome, the beautiful priestess of Apollo who now awaited him. Agamemnon had gloated about her, a virgin priestess¡ªsuch a rare prize. To defile one so pure, especially one dedicated to the god of light, was a triumph all its own for a man like Agamemnon. Though Odysseus was known for his cunning, his heart was not entirely made of stone. He couldn''t help but feel a pang of pity for Astynome, and for all the women who had been reduced to mere spoils of war. But he knew well enough that there was nothing to be done. War was an ancient machine, grinding down men and women alike. Men died on the battlefield, and women were taken, their fates sealed by their captors. It had always been this way. "You should take someone for yourself," Agamemnon suggested, the casualness of his tone making the offer all the more chilling. "I''ll grant you any woman in the camp. Consider it a reward." Odysseus shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips, though it did little to hide the discomfort behind his eyes. "I have no need. My heart belongs to my dear Penelope, waiting for me in Ithaca." Agamemnon let out a deep, amused chuckle. "Such loyalty. But to each his own." He waved his hand dismissively. "Enjoy your night, then. I will certainly enjoy mine." His mind was already on Astynome, and the thought of breaking her¡ªof hearing her cries¡ªfilled him with impatience. He was eager to claim her, to see her submit to his will. But just as he was about to turn away, a soldier came rushing toward them, breathless and frantic. "King Agamemnon!" the soldier shouted, skidding to a halt before the two kings. Agamemnon''s brow furrowed in irritation. "What is it?" he demanded, his tone sharp and impatient. The soldier swallowed hard before speaking. "It''s... it''s the old man, my lord. The father of the woman you captured. He has come to the camp." Chapter 201: Saving Astynome (2) "King Agamemnon!" the soldier shouted, skidding to a halt before the two kings. Agamemnon''s brow furrowed in irritation. "What is it?" he demanded, his tone sharp and impatient. The soldier swallowed hard before speaking. "It''s... it''s the old man, my lord. The father of the woman you captured. He has come to the camp." "What?" Agamemnon''s frown deepened, his face darkening with confusion. He hadn''t expected this. The father of the priestess? Here? He had known about Chryses, of course¡ªeveryone knew of the old priest of Apollo. But what fool would walk into the lion''s den, unarmed and alone, to beg for the release of his daughter? Agamemnon vividly recalled the day Chryses, the priest of Apollo, had first come to him, begging for the release of his daughter. He had been furious then, rejecting the old man''s pleas with cruel words, and had even ordered his men to beat him before sending him away. He had thought that would be the last he''d hear from Chryses¡ªcertain that the old man would be too broken to return. Yet here he was, at the edge of the Greek camp, having walked miles in his desperation, crying out for mercy. Agamemnon''s lips curled into a sneer as he followed the soldier, Odysseus trailing behind him. "He came all the way for his daughter. That''s admirable," Odysseus remarked softly, his voice tinged with respect for the old man''s persistence. Agamemnon, however, was unmoved. "He''s only seeking death," he snarled, his eyes darkening. Odysseus glanced sideways at him and hesitated before saying, "Wouldn''t you do the same for your daughter, King Agamemnon?" The moment the words left his mouth, Odysseus realized his mistake. He immediately regretted speaking, for he remembered the bitter truth of Agamemnon''s past. This was the man who had sacrificed his own daughter, Iphigenia, to appease the goddess Artemis and ensure smooth winds for the fleet to sail to Troy. "I apologize," Odysseus added quickly, feeling Agamemnon''s murderous glare pierce through him. Agamemnon said nothing in response but stormed forward, ignoring Odysseus entirely. His soldier led the way through the camp, the wailing of Chryses growing louder with every step. Soon, they reached the entrance of the camp, where Chryses was kneeling in the dirt, his face wet with tears and his voice hoarse from pleading. Agamemnon''s men had formed a barrier around the old priest, refusing him entry. "Please! Release my daughter! I will give you anything you want! I beg you!" Chryses cried out, his frail body shaking with desperation. "Move aside," Agamemnon barked, his voice carrying the weight of command. Chryses'' breath caught in his throat, his face draining of color as the weight of Agamemnon''s words settled upon him like a stone. The horror in his eyes was unmistakable. "Leave it, old man!" one of the soldiers barked as they descended upon Chryses, their hands grabbing him roughly. Their fists slammed into his frail body, blows that sent him reeling. The old priest tried to resist, his arms wrapping around the chest in one last desperate act, but his strength, diminished by age and sorrow, failed him. The soldiers threw him aside, his body crumpling on the hard ground like a broken doll. Agamemnon chuckled darkly, turning on his heel. He had more important matters to attend to¡ªnamely, Astynome, the daughter of Chryses, his prize. He was already relishing the thought, the sick pleasure evident in his predatory steps. But as he began to walk away, something stopped him¡ªa voice. "CURSE YOU, AGAMEMNON!!!" Chryses'' voice was hoarse but filled with a fierce, unrelenting rage. His cry pierced the air, loud and commanding. The entire camp fell silent, the sounds of raucous soldiers fading as all eyes turned to the old priest. Agamemnon froze, his jaw clenching as he turned to face the defiant man. Chryses was no longer the begging, broken figure he had been moments before. Now, he stood, his frail frame trembling with the fury of a man wronged beyond forgiveness. His eyes burned with hatred. "I SWEAR IT!! BE THE GODS WITNESS! YOU WILL MEET YOUR END ON TROJAN GROUND!!" Chryses shouted, his voice rising, filled with divine wrath. "YOU WILL SUFFER THE MOST PAINFUL DEATH THAT EVEN THE GODS THEMSELVES WOULDN''T DARE TO GIVE YOU! SOMEONE WILL MAKE YOU PAY! I SWEAR IT!! YOU WILL BEG FOR YOUR LIFE, AND NO ONE WILL SAVE YOU! REMEMBER MY WORDS AND TREMBLE EVERY NIGHT UNTIL YOUR END COMES!" His words echoed through the camp like a divine curse, the bitterness in his tone reverberating in the minds of those who heard him. Agamemnon''s face darkened, his blood boiling with rage. He had been humiliated¡ªby a mere priest! And yet, as those words hung in the air, an uneasy chill crawled down his spine. Why did he feel fear? Why did the old man''s curse leave a lingering sense of dread? Agamemnon narrowed his eyes, his voice cold and sharp as steel. "Kill him," he ordered, not bothering to mask his fury. The soldiers needed no further encouragement. They seized Chryses, who remained motionless, his eyes still burning with defiance as he was dragged to his knees. Agamemnon watched, his heart pounding with both anger and something else¡ªsomething he refused to name. Chryses, breathing heavily, lifted his gaze toward the sky. The stars twinkled above him, distant and untouchable. His lips moved, but he didn''t pray to the gods¡ªnot those who had abandoned him. Instead, he prayed to anything that could hear him. Anything that could defy the gods. "Please... save my daughter," he whispered, the words barely audible. He prayed for a miracle. For someone to change the course of fate. His prayer was interrupted by a sharp pain in his chest. A soldier''s blade plunged into his heart. Chryses gasped, his eyes wide as the warmth of life drained from him. His gaze drifted upward, fixed on the night sky, where the stars continued to shimmer, indifferent to the suffering below. But just before his vision blurred, just before darkness claimed him, Chryses saw something¡ªor someone. In the distance, beyond the campfires, a figure stood. A man with black hair, his ice-blue eyes glowing faintly in the dark. He watched Chryses with a gaze that held neither pity nor judgment, merely quiet contemplation but somehow in his eyes there was a bit of empathy? Chryses didn''t know who he was, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. In his final moments, he believed that maybe, just maybe, his prayer had been heard. Chapter 202: Saving Astynome (3) "I SWEAR IT!! BE THE GODS WITNESS! YOU WILL MEET YOUR END ON TROJAN GROUND!! YOU WILL SUFFER THE MOST PAINFUL DEATH THAT EVEN THE GODS THEMSELVES WOULDN''T DARE TO GIVE YOU! SOMEONE WILL MAKE YOU PAY! I SWEAR IT!! YOU WILL BEG FOR YOUR LIFE, AND NO ONE WILL SAVE YOU! REMEMBER MY WORDS AND TREMBLE EVERY NIGHT UNTIL YOUR END COMES!" The weight of Chryses''s words reverberated through the Greek encampment, carrying an unearthly power, as though Apollo himself had endowed them with divine wrath. His curse was like thunder rolling across the plains, filling every corner of the camp with its ominous echo. Astynome heard it clearly, each syllable laced with desperation and grief. She felt her breath catch. "F-Father..." she whispered, her voice trembling with shock and disbelief. Her father had come all this way for her, crossing hostile lands to plead for her freedom. But as suddenly as his voice had filled her world, it vanished. His cry was snuffed out, leaving only silence in its place. Astynome''s heart twisted as a cold understanding washed over her. He was gone. She stood frozen, tears slipping down her cheeks, her mind grasping at a reality too cruel to accept. For all her strength, this was a wound too deep, a sorrow too great to bear. Her father¡ªthe man who had raised her with such care, who had woven every word of wisdom and love into her being¡ªhad journeyed to this place at her side. And now, he had lost everything. She bit down on her lip, tasting blood as she lifted her bound hands to her face, brushing away her tears with shaking fingers. "W...why?" she murmured, her gaze lifting toward the heavens. Her plea was a soft whisper, broken and raw. "Why did you take my father from me..." She knew the gods could do nothing against fate, but her heart was hollow, her spirit bruised beyond measure. She felt the crushing weight of solitude press upon her like a vast shadow, filling the spaces where hope once dwelled. Her life had crumbled into pieces around her. Her family, her home, and now the love that had sheltered her¡ªeverything was lost, leaving only her body as a final, twisted prize for Agamemnon, a king of such cold greed that he would strip her dignity as a mere spoil of war. His hunger for power had consumed everything in its path, and she felt herself standing in the last flickering remnants of a life stolen by his insatiable thirst. How could things have come to this? Who bore the blame for such a descent into ruin? She thought bitterly of Paris, the Trojan prince whose reckless obsession had sparked this bloody conflict. Was it his fault, his foolish lust for a foreign queen? Or was it Helen, the Spartan queen who had followed him to Troy, torn from her homeland? Astynome could never know how deeply the gods had manipulated them, how Aphrodite herself had enchanted Helen with a love spell beyond her power to resist. But none of it mattered, not truly. For in the end, the one who bore the heaviest burden of guilt was Agamemnon. Without his ambitious command, his brother Menelaus could never have rallied the armies of Greece to assault Troy''s walls. "Are you sent by Apollo?" Astynome''s voice was a trembling whisper, a mixture of wonder and doubt. At her question, a flicker of irritation crossed Nathan''s face. Without a word, he stepped closer and crouched down, carefully untying the ropes around her wrists. As he worked, Astynome felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a sense of divine energy radiating from him that she couldn''t ignore. She marveled at the sensation, her heart quickening. Being a daughter of Apollo, she was sensitive to such things, but how could a mere mortal possess such an aura? In truth, Nathan was attempting to suppress this very energy, though he was still learning to control it. He had trained under Amaterasu, the goddess of the sun, and his restraint over this power was far from perfect. "Nobody sent me," he replied flatly. Astynome''s eyes widened. His words broke her enchantment, her disbelief clear. It seemed unthinkable that he wasn''t acting on a god''s command, but something about his steady gaze left no room for doubt. Nathan''s loyalty belonged to no deity, and the gods were only as useful to him as what they offered in return. In Aphrodite''s case, her past favors had earned his cooperation to protect Aeneas, but that was mere repayment¡ªnot servitude. Seeing her confusion, Nathan finished untying her hands and stood, extending a hand to pull her up. Astynome found herself staring up at him, his form towering over her, his ice-blue eyes fixed on her with unwavering confidence. "Why did you save me, then?" she asked, her voice small but persistent. "For my own reasons," he replied simply, his words curt but leaving her no less fascinated. Astynome blinked, taken aback by his directness. She found herself compelled to reach out, her soft hand resting against his forehead. Nathan stilled, a flicker of surprise crossing his face at her unexpected touch. Her priestess training told her she could peer into someone''s fate¡ªvisions of their future, of things yet to come. But what she saw when she touched him shook her to her core. Nothing. Darkness. A vast, endless void. She withdrew her hand, her heart hammering in her chest. Now, it all made sense: the reason she couldn''t glimpse her own future, the shadows that veiled every attempt to foresee her fate. It was this man before her. His presence was a defiance of destiny itself, a force that could shatter what had been written. He was outside the bounds of any prophecy she had ever known, a disruptor of fate. A strange thrill shot through her, excitement mingling with awe. In her seventeen years, she had never felt this way. Her voice was barely audible as she murmured, "Take me." Nathan merely nodded, unaffected by her wonder, though he noted the glint of newfound resolve in her eyes. Wrapping a cloth around her head to shield her face from prying eyes, he lifted her effortlessly onto his shoulder. With practiced silence, he moved through the tent''s exit, his movements swift and precise as they slipped away into the night. Chapter 203: Saving Astynome (4) Nathan merely nodded, unaffected by her wonder, though he noted the glint of newfound resolve in her eyes. Wrapping a cloth around her head to shield her face from prying eyes, he lifted her effortlessly onto his shoulder. With practiced silence, he moved through the tent''s exit, his movements swift and precise as they slipped away into the night. Astynome clung to him, her thoughts racing as she was carried out of the Greek encampment. With each step, her heart pounded, not just in fear but with a budding sense of freedom and possibility she had never imagined. As Nathan emerged from Agamemnon''s tent, he wasted no time, striding briskly through the heart of the camp, his pace quick and deliberate. He knew Agamemnon could return at any moment¡ªperhaps in a minute or two¡ªand so he had to act quickly and decisively. The bustling camp was alive with the sounds of celebrating Greek soldiers, some singing loudly, others drinking heavily, their voices slurring in victorious revelry. Here, surrounded by warriors basking in the spoils of conquest, Nathan felt invisible, shielded by the anonymity of his disguise. To them, he was just another Spartan soldier, one of many dragging along the fruits of their brutal victory. A few soldiers gave him passing glances, but no one looked at him with suspicion. They saw only another man leading his spoils¡ªanother trophy of flesh and blood to be taken and used. Such sights were tragically commonplace here; many women, stolen from their homes, were treated as little more than the spoils of Lyrnessus''s fall. The fabric clothing hiding Astynome''s face might have sparked a flicker of curiosity, but it was quickly dulled by the soldiers'' drunken haze, their minds far from anything that could be called reasoning. Astynome on his shoulder shivered slightly, her eyes distant. Nathan heard her murmur a trembling whisper, "My father..." The faintest hope flickered in her gaze, a fragile spark clinging to life amidst the crushing weight of despair. She had heard her father''s cry, that final agonizing scream, but perhaps some part of her still clung to the thought that it could have been a nightmare, a cruel trick of the mind. "Dead," Nathan replied, his voice a quiet and bitter edge in the night air. He had watched Chryses in his last moments, had witnessed the priest''s anguished face as he''d reached out, calling in desperate hope for his daughter. Nathan had felt a pang of unexpected empathy as he''d watched him. The man had come this far, through peril and pain, for the love of his child¡ªa sacrifice few would make without hesitation. That profound love lingered like a shadow in Nathan''s thoughts, resurfacing the memory of his own daughter, Sara, whom he had only learned about this very day, courtesy of Aisha. Sara. The name resonated within him, an echo of what could have been, a reflection of what he might have lost without ever knowing it. A heavy chill settled in his bones as he thought of her, a fierce surge of protectiveness that gnawed at his soul. If it had been Sara taken from him, held captive among these warriors, he would have torn through this camp without hesitation. Every soldier here would have felt the wrath of his vengeance; he would have unleashed devastation without mercy, burning, slashing, and striking down every last one until there was no breath left in his body. His eyes darkened, as he thought of it. He understood now, on a raw, visceral level, what had driven Chryses to risk everything, to come so far and face death with a father''s unwavering love. In that instant, Nathan felt a kinship with the fallen man, a recognition of the love that binds parent to child¡ªa bond that could make even the most ordinary soul brave death itself. Nathan moved swiftly, locating a pouch which he filled with oil, its thick, viscous weight promising devastation. He then picked up a lance, its shaft weathered and heavy in his hand. Dipping the tip in oil and setting it ablaze, he positioned himself at a calculated distance from the boat. It sat anchored, rocking gently with the tide, silhouetted against the shimmering water. Squinting against the darkness, he focused, steadying his breath, channeling every ounce of his strength into his throw. With a powerful swing, he hurled the lance, watching it slice through the night sky in a perfect arc before plunging into the deck of the ship. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with a hiss and crackle, flames began to lick at the wood, greedily spreading across the deck. The fire took hold, growing quickly as it devoured the oil-soaked planks, leaping higher with each passing second until the entire vessel was ablaze, a beacon of destruction against the quiet sea. Despite the chaos unfolding, even if Agamemnon returned to discover Astynome missing, rage boiling as he barked commands and ordered his men to search, there would be something far graver demanding his attention. A low rumble of alarm swept through the camp as a plume of dark smoke billowed high against the night sky, and the acrid scent of burning wood wafted over the tents and sleeping soldiers. "Hey, look!" one soldier shouted, wide-eyed and pointing toward the shore. "No way! One of our boats!" another cried, his voice rising with panic. "It''s on fire! Come on, men!" yelled yet another, and soon a group of Greeks, their drunkenness forgotten, stumbled and ran toward the docks, eyes fixed on the smoldering ship. The flames had spread rapidly, casting a fiery glow across the waters and illuminating the stunned faces of the soldiers as they stood, helpless, watching one of their most vital cargo vessels¡ªthe one laden with weapons¡ªcrackling and splitting as the fire consumed it. Nathan watched from the shadows, his smirk barely visible in the dim light. The scent of burning oil and wood, the shouts of panicked soldiers¡ªthis was his distraction, his calculated chaos. In the commotion, he slipped through the camp''s edge, disappearing from sight and making his way to where Astynome waited, her gaze transfixed by the inferno lighting the distant shore. The orange glow reflected in her eyes, flickering with a mix of shock and awe. She knew, without a doubt, that Nathan was responsible for the flames dancing across the night, destroying what the Greeks had prized. A question flickered across her mind, unspoken but heavy with wonder: How was he capable of such audacity? How could he kidnap her from Agamemnon''s clutches and set one of their most valuable boats ablaze¡ªall without a trace of fear? If she knew that Nathan had purposefully chosen one of Agamemnon''s own ships, she would be even more astonished, realizing the exact depth of his cunning. Agamemnon''s day, one that had begun in triumph, had indeed twisted into a nightmare. "Let''s go." Nathan''s voice snapped her from her thoughts as he swung onto the horse in front of her, offering her a steadying hand. Astynome climbed up behind him, her fingers gripping his sides as he tapped the horse''s flanks, and they surged forward, breaking into a swift gallop away from the camp, leaving only the glowing fire and distant shouts behind them. They rode into the night, the cool wind whipping around them as the Greek camp dwindled into the darkness behind. With each hoofbeat, they drew closer to Troy, where Nathan''s true battle awaited. The struggle for Troy, the heart of a war that had ensnared them all, loomed ahead. For Nathan, this was just the beginning; Troy was where the final, true clash would take place, where fate would demand everything from him. Chapter 204: Heras delight and anger Zeus sat upon his throne, his gaze stern and unwavering, peering through the divine veil that allowed him to glimpse the mortal realm. He watched the ravaged state of Lyrnessus, smoldering and broken under the merciless hands of the Greeks, their victory casting a shadow over all they had conquered. Once, in his youth, such scenes of destruction and bloodshed would have ignited a thrill in his godly veins, stirring the wild joy of battle within him. But time had aged him, deepening his wisdom, and his heart now longed not for chaos, but for peace¡ªa peace he had fostered carefully across the vast world he controlled. Yet that fragile calm had shattered, all because of a single woman. Helen of Sparta¡ªor Helen of Troy, as she was now called. Zeus felt no anger toward her. Despite the unraveling of the world around her, she remained above reproach in his eyes. She was, after all, his daughter, born from his union with the Aeolian princess, Leda. The soft glow of fatherly affection clouded his judgment, rendering it impossible to hold Helen responsible for the war''s catastrophic course. She had not willingly chosen to abandon Menelaus and the life she had known. Zeus understood, or thought he understood, her heart. If she had truly desired to be with Paris, he would never force her to return. Of course, his perception was a misunderstanding. Aphrodite''s influence had brought Helen to Troy, her love-giving girdle casting an irresistible allure over Paris. Yet, Helen''s divine lineage¡ªZeus''s blood¡ªhad partially shielded her from the full power of Aphrodite''s spell. Its effects had worked just enough to draw her to Troy, binding her with unnatural loyalty, only for her to awaken from its haze and realize the course of fate had already set its path, one she could no longer escape. The same went for Zeus. The gods of Olympus were split, each compelled by their own loyalties, ambitions, and rivalries, and now stood divided, most having chosen their sides in the mortal conflict. His queen, Hera, and his beloved daughter, Athena, stood resolute in their support of the Greeks, their motivations entangled with vengeance, pride, and a fierce desire for justice. On the other hand, Apollo and Artemis, his twin children whom he cherished just as deeply, had pledged themselves to the Trojans, their sympathies stirring from bonds forged over centuries with those who had devotedly worshipped them. Both sides clamored for Zeus''s endorsement, each knowing that his support would grant them certain victory. Yet he remained immovable in his neutrality. The mortals on both sides revered him, and he would not betray that faith, nor would he abandon his daughter, Helen, to whatever retribution the Greeks might devise should she fall into their hands. He had seen Menelaus''s simmering rage and knew it well; the man''s desire to reclaim his honor could push him to unfathomable cruelty. "Hermes, are you worried about Helen, father?" Hermes asked, his tone light yet perceptive, a knowing smile playing at his lips. He had always been skilled at reading Zeus''s moods; centuries spent at his side had made him attuned to his father''s most subtle expressions. Zeus, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere distant, burdened by thoughts he did not share. The silence stretched between them, but Hermes waited, undeterred. "Don''t worry, Father," Hermes finally continued with a reassuring smile. "Nothing will happen to our beautiful half-sister under my watch. If Helen''s truly in danger, I''ll make sure she''s safe." Hera narrowed her eyes at Dionysus, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What? Are you offended, Dionysus? Don''t tell me you''ve chosen to side with those weaklings¡ªApollo, Artemis, and Aphrodite?" She scoffed, a touch of venom coloring her words. Dionysus only chuckled, undeterred by her malice, and took a long sip from his goblet. "No, Queen Hera. I am merely an observer for now," he replied with a subtle, knowing smile that only seemed to irritate her further. Hera''s distaste deepened, her gaze shifting away from the god of wine and onto Ares, her own son. She crossed her arms expectantly. "And you, Ares? Surely you stand with your mother." But Ares merely shrugged, uninterested in aligning with either side just yet. "I''ll choose a side when the war becomes more... interesting." Hera glared at him, frustrated and disapproving. She was certain Ares''s hesitance stemmed from Aphrodite''s loyalties. Aphrodite, whom he adored, was firmly on the side of the Trojans, and Hera knew that Ares''s enmity with Athena would sooner or later push him into her camp. She could hardly imagine her son choosing Athena over Aphrodite. Her sharp gaze swept the room, noting who was missing. Demeter, unsurprisingly, was absent, likely tending to her beloved crops with her daughter Persephone. And Poseidon... the mere thought of him drew a flicker of annoyance across her face. "Don''t tell me your brother is still scouring the worlds looking for that woman, dear husband?" Hera asked Zeus, her words laced with irritation. Zeus released a sigh, his fingers tightening slightly around the arm of his throne. Hermes, standing nearby, chuckled, amused by the thought of his uncle''s relentless pursuit. "You should see his face, Queen Hera. Poseidon has become a storm unto himself, traveling across realms just to find her. Quite fearsome, wouldn''t you agree, brother?" Hermes grinned at Dionysus, who raised his glass in a silent toast. Dionysus smirked. "Indeed. I fear for poor Khione when he finally catches up to her." Chapter 205: Helens dream "I heard you''re going to be engaged to Agamemnon, sister," Helen murmured softly, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of Clytemnestra''s face. Clytemnestra turned to look at Helen, her gaze sharp yet composed. Though they were sisters, the bond between them had always been shadowed by the strange circumstances of their birth. It was said that after Zeus seduced their mother, two sets of twins were born: one pair carrying the mortal blood of Tyndareus, their supposed father, and the other bearing the divine blood of Zeus himself. The mortal twins were Clytemnestra and her brother, Castor, while Helen and Pollux carried the mark of the gods. Both sets of siblings were blessed with striking beauty, but Helen and Pollux possessed something beyond mere charm¡ªa quality that set them apart, a divine allure that was undeniable. Helen, in particular, was said to be the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth, a beauty so intense it could unsettle the strongest of men. Pollux had inherited strength and abilities from Zeus, gifts that set him apart even among mortals. Despite the close bond between Castor and Pollux, who treated each other as true brothers, Helen''s relationship with Clytemnestra was fraught with tension. Clytemnestra had grown up in Helen''s shadow, forced into constant comparison. Over time, she distanced herself from Helen, not out of hatred, but as a way to preserve her own sense of self. She couldn''t bring herself to despise her younger sister, but neither could she fully embrace her. And now, she was to leave. The family had arranged her marriage to Agamemnon, a powerful king, one known for his strength and command. Today would mark her final day here as a daughter of Tyndareus. Soon, she would be a queen. "Yes, it''s true," Clytemnestra replied with a hint of finality. Helen''s eyes softened, almost curious. "Are you happy about it, sister?" Clytemnestra raised an eyebrow, as though the question itself were absurd. "Happy? Marrying the most powerful king in all the lands? Of course I am. It''s every woman''s dream to marry a man of such strength." Her tone was cool, almost defensive. "But you''ve never even met him," Helen continued, a note of quiet defiance in her voice. "You don''t know him, don''t love him. Is his strength really all that matters? Is that enough for love?" Clytemnestra laughed, though there was little humor in it. She regarded Helen with a look that mixed frustration and pity. "Helen, your innocence is charming, but nai?ve. One day, you''ll understand that love has little to do with it. Someday, you''ll be married off, too, to a man who may not please you in the slightest. In fact, I doubt any man will be to your liking. Every man who looks at you sees only your beauty, the allure you carry as Zeus''s daughter. They see you as a prize, a conquest. They''d risk kingdoms for the chance to possess you." She sighed, glancing away as if to distance herself from her own words. "They look at you like you''re a rare jewel, Helen, something to be won. And when that day comes, you''ll see that love is the least of your concerns." One night, he had dared to ask if he could share her bed, and she had refused him without hesitation. No, he was not special, not at all; he was as blinded as the others. Slowly, Helen rose from her bed and walked to the large arched window, gazing out across the expanse of Troy that stretched below her. Dawn painted the rooftops in soft hues of pink and gold, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the weight pressing down on her heart. A week had passed since Lyrnessus had been destroyed, razed to the ground by Greek forces who rained down violence and fire upon the city, all because of her. Guilt settled heavily on her shoulders each day, an invisible cloak she could not discard. Innocents had perished, lives had been shattered, and all of it traced back to her. And yet, what could she do? Each morning, she awoke to the same gilded room, the same bound fate, and the same bitter knowledge that she was powerless to undo the harm her beauty had wrought. Helen''s mind drifted once more to the remnants of her dream, replaying the distant memory like a faded, bittersweet echo. It was the same conversation with her elder sister, Clytemnestra¡ªa talk that had taken place over a dozen years ago, yet still lingered in her subconscious, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. She''d dreamed of that discussion again today, and the intensity with which it clung to her stirred something deep within. Why had this memory surfaced so vividly? Was it merely a reminder of the painful truth she''d been forced to accept¡ªthat her life was never hers to control, not truly, not in a world where her beauty shackled her as firmly as any chain? Or was it something more, a whisper from the past telling her she would always be bound to others'' desires, tethered to their ambitions and anger until the end? "Sister..." Helen murmured softly to herself, her heart tightening with worry as her thoughts turned to Clytemnestra. She wondered what her sister''s life had become. She had heard the rumors¡ªtheir powerful, ruthless husband Agamemnon had sacrificed their own daughter, her young and innocent niece, all in the name of this endless war. All for the sake of a bloodstained cause that Helen herself was blamed for. It was all because of her, once again. "She probably hates me now," Helen muttered, her voice barely a whisper. A bitter smile pulled at her lips as she thought of her sister, bound to a man who had thrown their child''s life away. She could hardly blame Clytemnestra if resentment had poisoned her heart. And it wasn''t just her sister. The weight of Troy''s hatred clung to her like a shroud. Helen knew that the Trojans, too, despised her, cursing her name with every defeat, every loss. Prince Hector was relentless in his protests, urging Paris to send her back to Greece. Helen wished he would. The thought of returning had crossed her mind countless times, yet Paris held firm, refusing to yield, as if keeping her was a twisted form of honor or pride. Among them all, Andromache, Hector''s wife, bore the most potent loathing toward her. Helen could feel Andromache''s hatred every time their eyes met, the silent reproach that told her she was the embodiment of every sorrow Troy had endured since the war began. And then there was Kassandra, the peculiar, tragic princess of Troy. She, unlike the others, did not seem to loathe Helen entirely; yet every day, she would visit her chambers and beg her to leave, her eyes haunted by visions no one else could see. With a weary shake of her head, Helen drew herself from her thoughts, focusing on the simple act of preparing for the day. She dressed herself slowly, as though putting on armor, readying herself for yet another day of condemnation, another day of bearing the hatred she had no power to soothe. Chapter 206: Nathan arrives at Troy! With a weary shake of her head, Helen drew herself from her thoughts, focusing on the simple act of preparing for the day. She dressed herself slowly, as though putting on armor, readying herself for yet another day of condemnation, another day of bearing the hatred she had no power to soothe. Once ready, she emerged from her chambers, her steps soft but purposeful. Immediately, she encountered the attendants assigned to her, moving in with practiced bows and murmured greetings. To others, they might seem loyal retainers, faithful to her needs and comfort. But Helen knew better; their duties lay far beyond servitude. Each was a pair of watchful eyes, a reminder that she, the "outsider" from Sparta, was considered a potential threat, forever under suspicion within the formidable walls of Troy. Paris alone offered her sympathy, but she knew it was shallow, a love born of allure and desire rather than any true understanding. In his infatuation, he seemed blind to her isolation, caught in a fantasy that did not see the woman beyond the face. Unperturbed by the scrutiny, Helen accepted it as her reality. Troy''s halls, however grand and filled with the tapestries of their victories, could never replace Sparta in her heart. The city she had left¡ªher true home¡ªwas now as distant as a forgotten dream. She had left behind family, friends, and a life etched deeply into Spartan soil, torn away from it under the bewitching haze of forces she could not control. Drifting through the ornate corridors, Helen paused at a towering window. Outside, the courtyard was a flurry of preparation as soldiers and townsfolk alike braced for the looming onslaught of the Greek armies. News had recently come of the fall of Lyrnessus, the gateway to Troy a week ago; now, the Greeks were free to press forward without obstruction, a tide moving steadily toward these walls. King Priam, with the wisdom of age and the burden of command, had ordered the evacuation of every town in Troy''s path, refusing to ask his people to serve as sacrificial shields. Now, as the invading forces approached, they would find nothing but empty streets and shuttered homes until they reached the gates of Troy itself, walls said to be blessed by Apollo and Poseidon, standing tall and mighty against any enemy. A figure at the far end of the corridor caught Helen''s attention, interrupting her thoughts. Andromache, Hector''s wife, moved gracefully toward her, her expression composed yet cool. Though she was indeed beautiful in her own right, Andromache''s looks were no match for Helen''s fabled allure¡ªan undeniable reality that had only widened the chasm between them. From the moment Helen had arrived, Andromache''s disdain had been palpable. She made no attempt to mask her belief that Helen had entrapped Paris with her beauty, her charm a deceptive spell that had led him into folly. To Andromache, Helen was a usurper of peace and a destroyer of family bonds, the cause of the inevitable bloodshed now hanging over Troy like a dark cloud. But Helen could sense her disdain wasn''t solely reserved for her; Paris, too, was scorned for his weakness and impulsivity, for falling prey to a charm he had neither the wisdom nor the maturity to resist. "Helen," she called. "Andromache..." Helen''s voice was soft, almost hesitant, her gaze imploring. "Do not address me so familiarly," Andromache''s reply was sharp, her cold gaze unwavering as she fixed Helen with a look that was equal parts resentment and disdain. "I apologize," Helen said, and there was sincerity in her tone, an apology that seemed to go deeper than words. Her eyes softened, shadows flickering there¡ªa sadness that many might mistake for regret. But Andromache saw only galling hypocrisy in Helen''s expression, a mockery of what the queen believed true penitence should look like. That look. It was what infuriated Andromache the most about Helen. How dare she look apologetic after all she had brought upon them? After willingly coming here, after defying the bonds of marriage and nation to indulge in this selfish romance, did she have the audacity to appear sorrowful? When the towering walls of Troy loomed before them, Nathan spoke, his voice quiet yet firm. "We''ve arrived." Astynome stirred, pulling herself upright as her eyes slowly opened. She lifted her gaze, her breath catching as she beheld the mighty walls before them, so familiar yet almost surreal after the horror she had endured. "At last... Lord Heiron," she murmured, gratitude evident in her eyes. Her mind drifted back to the moment she had resigned herself to a darker fate, shackled within Agamemnon''s tent, awaiting the terrible violation that seemed inevitable. But somehow, in the chaos of her despair, Nathan had appeared, his presence a miracle she hadn''t dared to hope for. And now, against all odds, she stood once more before her home. The massive gates of Troy groaned open slowly, revealing two figures standing at attention just inside. Prince Hector, his noble bearing casting an aura of steady calm, was there to greet them alongside Aeneas, his expression lit with a warmth that seemed to slice through the usual solemnity of the battlefield. As they entered, a broad smile broke across Aeneas''s face, and he stepped forward eagerly, extending his arms in welcome. "Heiron!" Aeneas called, his voice brimming with genuine excitement. Nathan slid down from the horse and turned to help Astynome dismount, his hands gentle but firm. Once she stood beside him, both Aeneas and Hector gave her a respectful nod. "Lady Astynome," they greeted, the reverence in their voices conveying the deep honor held for Apollo''s favored priestess. She nodded in return, her expression both humbled and grateful, her heart swelling at the familiarity of Troy''s people who had not forgotten her. Aeneas moved closer to Nathan, his face brimming with gratitude and camaraderie. "I can''t believe it," Aeneas laughed, his arms pulling Nathan into a brotherly embrace, patting his back with a strength that betrayed his relief and admiration. "You really did it, my friend!" Caught slightly off guard, Nathan hesitated but soon returned the embrace, feeling Aeneas''s sincerity in every word. There was something familial in the way Aeneas regarded him¡ªa bond made stronger by the subtle influence of Aphrodite, who had granted Nathan her blessing. Aeneas, a son of the goddess, seemed to feel this kinship deeply, and for a moment, Nathan felt as if he, too, belonged to Aeneas''s family. Hector then approached, his gaze steady and calm, extending his hand to Nathan. "I''ll admit, I doubted you. But I owe you an apology and my thanks for bringing the priestess back safely." Nathan met the prince''s hand, their grip firm as they shook. "No need," Nathan replied simply, acknowledging Hector''s humility with a respectful nod. Once their introductions and greetings were complete, Hector gestured toward the heart of the city, where the palace loomed. "Come. My father, King Priam, is eager to meet you both. He awaits your presence inside." Nathan and Astynome followed Hector and Aeneas, entering through Troy''s gates. Chapter 207: Nathan meets the royals of Troy! Once their introductions and greetings were complete, Hector gestured toward the heart of the city, where the palace loomed. "Come. My father, King Priam, is eager to meet you both. He awaits your presence inside." Nathan and Astynome followed closely behind Hector and Aeneas as they strode through the towering gates of Troy, feeling the weight of the city''s gaze upon them. Immediately, murmurs rose from the people gathered around, their voices swelling with a mix of relief, reverence, and a rekindled hope. "It is the priestess!" "Lady Astynome has returned!" "Apollo''s chosen! She is safe!" "Thank the gods! We are saved!" Everywhere they walked, eyes turned to Astynome, and faces once drawn with worry began to soften, overcome with the sight of her. The people, once haunted by fear of Apollo''s wrath at their inability to protect his priestess, now brimmed with a new resilience. To them, her return was a divine sign, an omen that Apollo was watching over them and that perhaps, in his favor, they would endure this relentless war. The streets, usually filled with the gloom of impending battle, now seemed to shimmer with newfound courage. Astynome, with her calm grace, raised a slender hand to acknowledge their voices, her serene expression giving them silent encouragement. Her small smile, poised and gentle, was the same she always offered to the people, reminding them she would not falter in her role as Apollo''s messenger. She felt the strain of expectations, yet knew she must embody the spirit of the god for the sake of Troy. The glint in her eyes was unwavering, though Nathan sensed the weight behind it. "I pray that Apollo continues to guard you, Lady Astynome," Hector spoke up, his deep, steady voice a balm against the crowd''s fervor. A warm smile softened his face, betraying his own relief at her presence. He searched her face, hoping for any sign that Apollo''s wrath had subsided¡ªa glimmer of divine approval that might ease the tension among them. Astynome''s gaze flickered for a moment as she pondered Hector''s words. In truth, she had not heard Apollo''s voice for some time, and the silence troubled her. "I do not believe Apollo is angry with the Trojans," she finally replied, her voice calm yet edged with a hint of unease. "His fury lies elsewhere... with the Greeks, and most of all, with Agamemnon." At the mention of Agamemnon''s name, a faint bitterness laced her tone. Memories of her father''s betrayal by the Greek king flared within her, and Nathan sensed her struggle to maintain composure. Hector''s expression darkened at this revelation. "Agamemnon..." he muttered, his voice a low growl. "He is the heart of this war. If I find him on the battlefield, I swear, I will put an end to him." Astynome offered a subtle nod, though her thoughts remained clouded by doubt. In her mind, the image of Agamemnon loomed large, draped in the blessings of powerful goddesses¡ªAthena, the unyielding goddess of war and wisdom, and Hera, the fearsome queen of Olympus. He was a formidable opponent, his path shielded by divine favor that rendered him almost untouchable. And there was Achilles, too, a warrior near-invincible, and Odysseus, sly and blessed by Athena''s cunning. The power of these three loomed over her thoughts, casting an ominous shadow. So long as Agamemnon, Achilles, and Odysseus drew breath, the Greeks held an upper hand in this conflict, one forged and tempered by the hands of gods themselves. But maybe this man... Nathan, dressed in dark armor with a stoic expression that revealed little of his thoughts, took a step forward. He didn''t kneel as the others had; instead, he inclined his head respectfully, his posture both formal and indifferent. "Your Majesty." Priam seemed unbothered by the lack of formality. Unlike most kings, he appreciated genuine warriors who didn''t feel compelled to flatter him. Heiron, a mercenary by trade, was a free soul with no sworn allegiance to him. Priam liked the man''s grounded demeanor. "You have the gratitude of every Trojan for rescuing our priestess, Heiron," Priam declared. "It was mere chance, Your Majesty. I crossed paths with her, and I brought her along," Nathan replied, his voice even, neither boastful nor dismissive. Priam chuckled softly, sensing humility in Nathan''s words. "Humble, I see." "Humble, indeed, Your Majesty," Astynome interjected, a slight smile touching her lips. "Far too humble. Lord Heiron not only saved me but also managed to destroy a crucial Greek vessel." A ripple of astonishment spread through the court, murmurs of shock and intrigue echoing around them. "Is this true?" Priam asked, eyebrows raised, his interest deepening. "Yes," Nathan replied calmly, unperturbed by the sudden attention. "The ship belonged to Agamemnon''s fleet, loaded with weapons intended for the Greeks. After gathering what information I needed, I set it ablaze and escaped with Lady Astynome." Priam''s eyes sparkled with newfound respect. Queen Hecuba, seated beside him, leaned forward, her gaze equally appreciative. "A remarkable feat, Heiron. You have not only our gratitude but our admiration as well." Hector, Aeneas, and Andromache, standing by the royal pair, exchanged impressed glances. It was clear Nathan''s bravery had made an impact. "I merely did what any able man would have done," Nathan said modestly. His words, though plain, carried a sincerity that seemed to resonate in the room. "Had Prince Hector or Lord Aeneas been there, they could have done far more." To some, his humility might have seemed false, a well-placed tactic to win favor. But there was an undeniable sincerity in Nathan''s voice and demeanor. He had no desire for fame or glory; he valued the alliance and goodwill of Troy. He was here, after all, for more than just the war. As Priam and the others considered his words, two silent figures observed him with piercing intensity. Helen of Troy and Princess Kassandra of Troy. Chapter 208: Heirons reward As Priam and the others considered his words, two silent figures observed him with piercing intensity. Helen of Troy and Princess Kassandra of Troy. Nathan''s gaze swept the gathered royals without lingering. He paid little attention to the mixture of fascination and wariness directed his way, sparing only fleeting glances at those who watched him. Yet, despite his disinterest, he couldn''t deny the stunning beauty of Helen, who stood out even among her people. Her allure was transcendent, a beauty that seemed almost otherworldly, surpassing any he had ever encountered. Kassandra, on the other hand, had a different appeal, a mystique that marked her as an enigma¡ªbut her expression toward him was one of thinly veiled fear. Unlike Helen''s curious, almost impassive stare, Kassandra looked at him as though he were a monster cloaked in darkness. Kassandra''s reaction wasn''t just discomfort; it was genuine terror. As a seer, her gift for divination was known to surpass even that of Astynome, a talent treasured by Apollo himself. Yet, when she looked upon Nathan, she saw nothing but an impenetrable void. Her power, which allowed her to peer far into the threads of fate, met a black wall when she tried to read him, similar to the darkness she had foreseen clouding the outcome of the Trojan War. In her mind, he was an entity tied as closely to hope as to disaster, a force capable of bringing either salvation or ruin to Troy. And for now, only Kassandra and Astynome could comprehend just how unpredictable and potentially dangerous he was. Helen''s gaze, however, held none of Kassandra''s dread. Her eyes lingered on Nathan with an almost childlike curiosity, observing him as she might any other intriguing figure who had entered her world. Her interest was casual, perhaps sparked by the fact that he had saved Astynome, but no more. She didn''t appear to think deeply about him¡ªat least not yet. King Priam''s voice broke through the tension, drawing all eyes to the throne. "You have done more than I could have ever hoped, Heiron. Ask anything you desire, and I shall grant it," Priam declared, his tone one of gratitude mingled with authority. Nathan paused, pretending to consider his options, though his choice had already been made. He turned to face Priam, his eyes calm. "I would like to be granted a room within the castle," he stated, his voice even, though a ripple of surprise coursed through the court. The silence was punctuated by an outraged shout. "What! How arrogant you are!" Paris, who had stood quietly until now, snapped with indignation. It was clear he had been waiting for any excuse to lash out, his resentment simmering beneath the surface. More than resentment, it looked more like jealousy as his family seemed to consider Heiron more than him. Nathan noted Paris''s reaction but paid him no mind, his face as impassive as stone as he awaited Priam''s response. Astynome stepped forward, her tone steady and serious as she spoke up on Nathan''s behalf. "He is an ally, King Priam. He stands on our side," she affirmed, her gaze shifting briefly to Nathan, who met her eyes in silent acknowledgment. She had spoken when she didn''t need to, and he felt a flicker of gratitude for her support. Nathan''s request for a room was not one born of vanity or luxury but of strategic necessity. From within the castle walls, he could keep a pulse on the city''s defenses, access crucial information, and stay close to the heart of Troy''s power. To have access to the flow of intelligence and news would be invaluable for his plans, allowing him to stay one step ahead in this unfolding conflict. Priam glanced at Hector, his expression thoughtful. There was a moment of quiet deliberation as Hector studied Nathan, his gaze weighing him with careful scrutiny. At last, Aeneas broke into a small, knowing smile. Nathan observed the subtle exchange between the two warriors; Aeneas seemed to carry an unexpected trust in him, a rarity for someone known for his caution. Hector finally nodded at his father, offering silent approval. King Priam''s face softened into a thoughtful smile as he observed Astynome and Aeneas''s evident trust in Nathan. Their endorsement seemed to tip the scales, reinforcing his growing belief that perhaps this man deserved a place of significance within their ranks. Aeneas looked skeptical, his expression clouded. "Yes," he admitted, "but is that truly enough? Their gods seem relentlessly determined to see the Greeks emerge victorious." "It won''t be enough," Nathan spoke up, his voice slicing through the tense silence, drawing every gaze in the room toward him. His focus was sharp, his mind racing with strategies; more than ever, he felt the urge to end this war swiftly, and he harbored a quiet desire for the Trojans to emerge victorious. "We can still weaken them significantly," he continued, "by eliminating their most crucial leaders." Hector''s eyes gleamed as he nodded. "Agreed," he said. "Agamemnon," Nathan began, listing the names that held the weight of Greek might, "commander of the Greek coalition. Menelaus, King of Sparta. Achilles, their greatest warrior. King Ajax the Great. Diomedes, the King of Argos. Odysseus, King of Ithaca. Heracles, and Jason, leader of the Argonauts." Each name rolled off his tongue, laced with a confidence that matched the determination in his eyes. He had gathered every detail he could during his brief time within the Greek camp, listening to stories and whispered strategies. "If we strike down these names," Nathan explained, his voice resonating with resolve, "we will break the very spine of the Greek forces. Even if they outnumber us, they''ll lack leadership, unity, and morale. In fact, if we kill Agamemnon alone, the other kings will turn on each other, vying for dominance. The Greeks would fall into a civil war within their own ranks." Hector''s smile broadened, a rare glimmer of hope lighting up his stern expression. Beside him, Aeneas and Sarpedon shared approving glances, their respect for Nathan''s simple yet effective strategy. This man, unlike many who sought glory through grandiose gestures, had cut directly to the heart of what could bring them victory. "Heiron is right," Hector announced to the room, his tone brimming with conviction. "If any of us encounter these men on the battlefield, our priority is to end them. Even the death of one of these figures will strike a blow deep into the heart of the Greek resolve." "You can count on us, Hector," Aeneas said, nodding, his eyes alight with purpose. Sarpedon gave a curt nod in agreement. "This is beginning to sound quite thrilling," came a vibrant voice from behind. They turned to see Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons, standing confidently with a fierce grin. Yet it wasn''t Penthesilea alone who captured Nathan''s attention; standing beside her was another beautiful woman. Atalanta. Nathan''s gaze lingered on her, a surge of memories rushing back from his encounter with her in Colchis. Back then, she had stood among the Greeks, united with Jason, Heracles, and Orpheus in their quest for the Golden Fleece. A warrior of Artemis, fierce and untamed, Atalanta''s skills in archery and her loyalty to her ideals had set her apart. But now, she was here, on the side of the Trojans, bound by her devotion to the Goddess Artemis. Chapter 209: Penthesilea curious Atalanta. Nathan''s gaze lingered on her, a surge of memories rushing back from his encounter with her in Colchis. Back then, she had stood among the Greeks, united with Jason, Heracles, and Orpheus in their quest for the Golden Fleece. A warrior of Artemis, fierce and untamed, Atalanta''s skills in archery and her loyalty to her ideals had set her apart. But now, she was here, on the side of the Trojans, bound by her devotion to the Goddess Artemis. "Atalanta, it''s a pleasure to see you," Priam declared, rising from his throne with arms outstretched in a grand gesture of welcome. His voice carried a note of genuine warmth, and the subtle creases around his eyes softened as he beheld her with respect. Atalanta was a name that carried weight and inspired awe across kingdoms. As one of Artemis''s devoted followers, she was known far and wide as one of the fiercest warriors the Achaean continent had ever seen. Raised and molded by Artemis''s own hand, her skills were honed to perfection through arduous training and the goddess''s unyielding discipline. Artemis seldom allowed her chosen disciples to stray from her side, let alone to travel to foreign realms; so when Atalanta arrived alongside Jason and the Argonauts, it had been a momentous occasion. The goddess deemed the journey an invaluable experience for her beloved warrior, hoping it would teach Atalanta more of the world beyond Artemis''s own domain. And indeed, the quest had proven as eventful as it was perilous. Though their mission to retrieve the Golden Fleece ended in failure due to an unexpected intruder, the journey itself left its indelible mark. They had ventured through dangerous waters, encountering monstrous foes and forces of nature beyond human comprehension. Few would forget the day they escaped the lethal clutches of Scylla and Charybdis, the divine terrors of the deep seas, whose wrath left many shaken but fiercely bonded. They clashed with warriors from distant lands, creatures of legend, and saw wonders that would haunt their memories for lifetimes. Now, Atalanta stood before them once again, ready for another challenge¡ªbut this time, it was different. Artemis herself had taken a vested interest in the Trojan cause, choosing to stand with the kingdom she deemed worthy of her protection. Although Artemis hadn''t demanded Atalanta join her, she was pleased her disciple chose to do so of her own volition. And so, with loyalty and purpose in her stride, Atalanta had come to Troy, prepared to fight for the goddess''s honor. Nathan''s gaze flickered her way briefly, before he looked away, his expression inscrutable. "Yes, indeed, it is reassuring to have one of Artemis''s strongest disciples among us," Hector said, his tone laced with a hint of reverence. His eyes shone with relief, for he knew well the power and resilience Atalanta could bring to their side. Nearby, Aeneas and Sarpedon exchanged nods, their faces mirroring Hector''s sentiment; each knew the value of her presence, and they took solace in her strength. Penthesilea, the Amazon queen, cast her sharp gaze across the room, and her eyes landed on another familiar face. "Oh, isn''t that Heiron?" Her lips curved into a smirk, her tone a blend of surprise and admiration. "So you''ve returned... and alive on top of that? I am quite impressed." Her admission wasn''t lightly given; Penthesilea had not anticipated Heiron''s survival, let alone his loyalty. She had once dismissed him as a mere mercenary of little note, someone unworthy of her regard. But now, seeing him here, unscathed and resolute, she wondered if she had misjudged him entirely. No, Achilles would not fall that easily. Nathan could feel it in his bones. He would have to again transfer all his Luck to strength to have a chance just like he did to fight a God of Light in the village of Uteska. But it wasn''t as if Nathan was their only hope. He cast a sidelong glance at Hector, the crown prince of Troy. Hector, known throughout the lands as the finest Trojan warrior, wasn''t someone to be underestimated. Perhaps Hector alone had the potential to challenge the nearly invincible Achilles. Though, to truly stand toe-to-toe with the demigod, even he might need the blessings of the gods themselves. Suddenly, a voice broke through the tension. "Leave Achilles to me." It wasn''t Hector who spoke, but Penthesilea, her tone firm. The Amazon queen''s expression was fierce, her gaze steady as she looked around the room, leaving no doubt about the seriousness of her words. Sarpedon, one of the mightiest Lycian warriors, eyed her with cautious concern. "Penthesilea, I know you''re strong¡ªany fool can see that¡ªbut Achilles is on another level entirely," he said. She scoffed, a defiant smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I''m well aware of who he is, and that''s precisely why I intend to face him," she replied. "I''m not just any warrior¡ªI am the queen of the Amazons, and we were born to hunt the monsters that others fear to face. Achilles is exactly the kind of opponent I came here to challenge." Before a full debate could ignite, Hector raised a hand, his voice ringing with calm authority. "We''ll settle this when the time comes. For now, we must focus on preparation," he interjected. "The Greeks will be at our gates within the week, and there''s much to be done if we hope to meet them in full force." Despite his composed words, Hector knew the dangers Achilles posed and doubted Penthesilea''s chances against the legendary warrior. But he refrained from voicing his doubts, knowing it would only fuel her resolve further. With Hector''s firm command, the gathered warriors nodded and began to take their leave, dispersing to prepare for the battles ahead. Nathan, too, rose from his seat, following a maid assigned to escort him to his new room inside the castle''s comfort. Chapter 210: Nathan meets God Apollo After sharing a few comments about the Greeks, Nathan was guided to a vast, opulent chamber that exuded grandeur at every corner. The polished marble floors glinted in the torchlight, and intricate tapestries depicting Trojan victories hung from walls gilded with gold leaf. Despite his casual remarks earlier, he was mildly astonished that none of his companions had pressed him for more details. He hadn''t thought his comments were especially insightful, yet they seemed to have struck a chord. He chalked it up to the strange workings of his outrageous luck, a stat he had learned to accept but still found mystifying. As he stepped into his room, Nathan began removing his armor, piece by piece, feeling the weight of the past week lifting off him as he did. His mind drifted to the relentless vigilance he had maintained every night, keeping watch in the shadows while the others slept. Agamemnon was a man known for his obsessions, and Nathan knew it was entirely within his character to dispatch men to reclaim Astynome. This was why he had gone without sleep, ensuring that they would not be ambushed. Astynome herself had been in no state to act as a sentry; she was still haunted by her recent trauma and had narrowly escaped Agamemnon''s possessive grip. The journey had taken its toll on them both, but Nathan had endured, driven by a sense of purpose he couldn''t quite define. Thankfully, their week had passed without incident. But as the days had gone by, he couldn''t help but notice how close Astynome had grown to him. He sensed a shift, a silent reliance that had blossomed between them. He understood her clinging nature was born from gratitude mixed with the pain of her recent losses. In saving her from a grim fate, he had unwittingly become her anchor. And though Nathan wasn''t entirely comfortable with it, he couldn''t deny that her presence had started to mean something to him as well. But what that "something" was, he chose not to dwell on. Once he had stripped off his armor and clothing, he moved toward the stone basin in the corner of the room, filling it with warm water. As he sank into the bath, the heat seeped into his weary muscles, washing away the grime and exhaustion accumulated over the long days of horseback travel. He closed his eyes and let the water envelop him, the steady warmth easing the constant tension in his body. For a moment, he could almost forget the unyielding ache that gnawed at his core. After a long soak, Nathan stepped out and reached for a fresh set of clothes neatly laid out on a carved wooden bench. The fabrics were finely woven and unmistakably Trojan in design, yet they fit him surprisingly well, almost as though the maids had anticipated his measurements. As he dressed, he caught sight of his reflection in the polished silver mirror hanging nearby. He stared at his arms, which were slowly darkening, the skin taking on an eerie, inky hue. "I''m nearing the end," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. This was the cost he had agreed to pay nine months ago, the price of defying a goddess and tampering with powers that no human from his world should have even glimpsed. The darkness creeping up his arms was a constant reminder of that fateful choice, a slow curse spreading through him. His mortal body wasn''t meant to bear such power, and it rebelled against it with searing pain. Though he kept his face composed and unyielding, an agony burned within him that he had learned to hide from others. This suffering had become his silent burden, one that no one else could ever understand. Just as Nathan''s thoughts drifted into the dark reflection of his choices, a sudden shift rippled through his senses. His vision blurred, and the room seemed to melt away around him. The lavish Trojan chamber, with its ornate tapestries and marble floors, vanished as if it had never been. The sounds of Troy''s distant bustle faded, replaced by an ethereal silence. When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in an endless expanse bathed in a soft, golden light. A smirk teased the corner of his lips¡ªa smirk he quickly stifled as he turned to face the presence he knew had summoned him here. "God Apollo," Nathan addressed. Before him stood a figure who embodied the very essence of beauty and grace. Apollo, god of light, music, and prophecy, radiated an almost tangible aura of divine splendor. Tall and lean, with sun-gold hair that caught the light like threads of fire, his striking features formed the epitome of male beauty. His alabaster robe fell in effortless folds, edged with threads of silver, a vision of serene but formidable power. "Heiron," Apollo spoke, his voice smooth and warm as it reverberated through the golden silence. "I have long wished for this conversation." A thoughtful silence settled between them before Apollo asked the question that had been hovering unspoken in the air. "You don''t like the Greeks, do you?" Apollo''s voice was even, but his gaze was intent. "Am I wrong to think you don''t want them to win?" Nathan''s mind flickered through memories of his recent encounters. Only two weeks prior, when Aphrodite had approached him about taking part in this war, he''d had no stake in its outcome. Whether the Greeks won or the Trojans prevailed, he hadn''t cared at all. He would''ve preferred to watch it all unfold from a distance, indifferent to the fates of men and cities he held no attachment to. But... things had changed. Nathan''s gaze grew darker, and he closed his eyes, flashes of memory searing through his mind. He saw Ajax, his brutish grin and his bold hand laid upon Aisha, daring to touch what was Nathan''s. Agamemnon''s smug, loathsome face, the very sight of which stirred an anger deep within him. At least for Astynome''s father whom Nathan respected for having sacrificed his life for his daughter. Also maybe for Astynome as well since she was a good woman. He had traveled a week with her after all, affection was bound to happen. Also Nathan had seen too many women, captives, torn from their homes, crying out for help within the Greek camps. The Trojans, however, were different. In all his time with them, Nathan had seen no such horrors committed by their hands. They defended, they protected¡ªbut they did not enslave or brutalize. Nathan opened his eyes finally. "I want the Greeks to lose in the most humiliating and painful way possible." Chapter 211: Apollos decision "I want the Greeks to lose in the most humiliating and painful way possible." Apollo''s smile grew broader at Nathan''s words, and for once, the god of light knew he was in the presence of a kindred spirit¡ªor perhaps, a formidable ally. He could see it in Nathan''s icy gaze, a simmering dislike that edged into something darker. Though that seething hatred seemed especially reserved for Ajax and Agamemnon, Apollo knew it could easily extend to all those Greeks too. This disdain was genuine; Apollo could sense the truth in it, and he relished the opportunity. With Heiron, he might just have found a trump card against the Greeks, one that not even Athena or Hera had foreseen. But there was still one crucial step left. If he wanted Heiron''s full cooperation, Apollo needed to offer him something first, a favor so grand that it would bind the mortal''s loyalty to him. With confidence radiating from his golden form, Apollo''s voice resonated with divine authority as he spoke. "For your deeds in Lyrnessus, for bringing back Astynome, I shall reward you. Name anything, and I will grant it to the best of my abilities." His tone was magnanimous, as though he could move mountains with a mere nod. Nathan''s face remained expressionless, and a silence hung between them. Apollo, misinterpreting this as hesitation, leaned closer, his voice persuasive. "Ask for anything¡ªriches beyond measure, a kingdom, even a woman you desire. If there''s someone who has caught your eye, I can arrange it." He was confident, almost smug. As the god of light, Apollo believed no woman would dare refuse a match he proposed. Any mortal would surely bend to his will in gratitude. But none of this interested Nathan. Instead, he lifted his arm and rolled back his sleeve, revealing wounds laced with ominous black lines snaking up his skin. Apollo''s blue eyes widened, his confident smile faltering as he recognized the unmistakable mark of death inching its way through Nathan''s body. "This is..." he murmured, trailing off, a look of genuine shock breaking through his godly composure. "I''m dying," Nathan said calmly, his voice resolute but laced with a weariness that spoke of countless battles waged against this inevitable fate. "At best, I have a week, maybe just a few days." The silence that followed was thick, laden with unspoken truths. Apollo stared at the dark veins with a mix of intrigue and horror, realizing the mortal''s body was all but shattered. The only reason he had endured so long was through sheer willpower and the energy he had drawn from Khione. Recently, enslaving Amaterasu had granted him a few precious days more, but even that was waning. His body was at its limit, fraying at the edges like a candle burned at both ends. Apollo narrowed his gaze, his mind churning. For thousands of years, he had seen men driven to desperation, and he knew the signs. "You''ve sacrificed your very life force for something, haven''t you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he pieced together the mystery. Nathan nodded his head. "I did," he confirmed but offered no further explanation. Apollo''s frown deepened as he studied the dark, intricate marks spiraling up Nathan''s arms, their blackened lines twisting like the roots of some ancient curse. He shook his head, his face troubled. "I may be a god," he said slowly, "but what you''re asking me to do would mean defying death and time itself." His voice was unusually cautious, each word weighed as though it might tip some cosmic scale. Nathan''s gaze was unwavering, a cold determination set within his eyes. "Yes," he replied, a hint of challenge in his voice, "but the God of Light I''ve heard of can do something about that, can''t he?" Nathan''s words struck at Apollo''s pride, and for a brief moment, a gleam of amusement sparked in the god''s eyes. He was one of the most powerful deities in the Greek pantheon, revered and feared, so much so that even Hera and Athena stepped carefully around him. Without him, the Greeks'' assured advantage over the Trojans could falter. Aphrodite herself had hinted at Apollo''s unique powers when Nathan had sought her counsel, and even Khione had alluded to it. A slow, almost mocking smile crept onto Apollo''s lips. "Perhaps I can do something," he admitted. "But it''s not a simple fix, mortal. The kind of power you''re asking for would take more than a day, more than a week... it could take months, even years." He let the weight of this sink in, watching as Nathan''s brow furrowed. Nathan''s jaw tightened, frustration evident in the taut lines of his face. Time was not a luxury he possessed. At most, he had a few days left, and even that was slipping through his fingers. Nathan tensed, trying to move back, but before he could react, Apollo''s hand was already on his head, bathing him in radiant light. A warmth washed through Nathan, and he felt the burning ache in his arms ease as the dark marks receded, retreating from his skin like shadows at dawn. "What...?" Nathan looked down, astonished to see the blackened wounds fading. He felt stronger, his energy restored as if a great burden had been lifted. "Five months," Apollo said, his voice steady. "Five months?" Nathan echoed, scarcely daring to believe it. "I''ve granted you five more months, that''s the most I can do for you, " Apollo replied. "That should be enough time for me to find a way to help you fully." A renewed determination filled Nathan, and he clenched his fists, feeling his strength surge. The god''s power was real, coursing through him, fortifying him. For now, he had been granted a reprieve. Apollo''s expression grew serious, his piercing gaze locking onto Nathan''s. "There is one condition, though," he said firmly. "Hector. He must not die." Nathan held Apollo''s gaze, recognizing the intensity of the command. It was more than a request; it was an order. Apollo was entrusting him with a piece of Troy''s survival in his absence. "Hector is Troy''s hope, its will, its reason to fight," Apollo continued, his voice carrying an almost paternal gravity. "Protect him." Nathan nodded, a silent promise passing between them. "He won''t fall. I''ll make sure of it." That was the least he could do in exchange of saving his own life. Satisfied, Apollo turned to face Aphrodite and Artemis, who awaited his final words. Read exclusive chapters at m_v-l''-NovelFire "I''m leaving Troy in your hands," he said. Artemis nodded solemnly, her bow held close to her side. "You can count on me," she replied, her tone resolute. Aphrodite met Apollo''s gaze, a hint of worry in her eyes. She knew, perhaps better than the others, where he intended to go and the dangers that awaited him. "Be careful," she murmured, her voice soft yet tinged with unmistakable concern. Apollo gave her a reassuring smile, then with a final glance at the others, he vanished, his golden form dissolving into the air, leaving Troy and its fate resting in the hands of his allies. Chapter 212: Trojan War: The Heroes of the Light Empire! Several hundred meters from the towering gates of Troy, the grand, fortified city-empire, a brutal and unrelenting battle raged. The clash of metal on metal, agonized screams, and frenzied warrior cries filled the air, reaching even the innermost streets of Troy. At first, the thunderous noise had jarred the city''s inhabitants, cutting through their peace with violent clarity. But now, after two long, grueling months, the sounds of war had woven into the backdrop of their lives. The war, now entering its third month, seemed to grow more ferocious with each passing day, each dawn signaling a new escalation. With sunrise came the renewal of this bitter struggle, a vicious cycle that persisted until the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Neither the Greeks nor the Trojans were mere mortals fighting with bare strength alone; each side was fortified by the blessings of their gods, granting them endurance and ferocity beyond ordinary human limits. This divine empowerment only served to make the conflict more relentless, the warriors battling as though in another realm, one where violence was the only law. "Die, you filthy Greek!" a Trojan would snarl, sword raised high, while his Greek opponent would respond with equal venom, "I''ll kill you, damn Trojan!" The battlefield rang with guttural roars, screams of pain, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground. Blood soaked the earth, staining it red and turning it into a ghastly scene unlike anything witnessed before. Even the heroes among them¡ªmen of near-mythic strength and skill¡ªfound themselves hardened by the brutality, forced to adapt to the unyielding cycle of life and death around them. Both sides committed only fractions of their full armies, but still, thousands fought each day, locking the battlefield in a continuous dance of death. As each morning dawned, the fallen from the previous day were replaced by fresh soldiers, eager to continue the fight. The Trojans, stationed close to their city, could quickly replenish their ranks. For the Greeks, however, the daily march from their distant camp to the battlefield added to their hardship, a journey they took despite the looming threat of night raids by Trojan forces. At the break of dawn, the Greeks would gather their fallen, carrying them back to camp, and only when they had gone would the Trojans retrieve their own dead before cleaning the blood-soaked earth, preparing it for yet another day''s carnage. For two agonizing months, this macabre ritual had repeated, a grim reminder that peace was nowhere on the horizon. Both sides fought with undiminished ferocity, neither willing to yield, and the bloodshed showed no sign of abating. The Trojans fought with grim determination, defending their city from the invaders who encroached on their land, striving to protect their families and their way of life. Across the blood-soaked field, the Greeks wielded their swords and shields not only for honor or pride but to reclaim Helen, the fabled Queen of Sparta, and to avenge the bruised pride of Menelaus. But beneath this facade of noble cause lay something far more selfish, a truth as bitter as the battle itself. "Gahahah! A bunch of ants!" Aidan''s laughter boomed across the battlefield, cutting through the clash of metal and the cries of the fallen. Not far from where Jason and Siara fought, Aidan tore through Trojan ranks like a madman, his massive sword cleaving through one soldier after another. Unlike Siara, Aidan had abandoned any hesitation about killing long ago. His eyes glinted with a feral rage, a thirst for blood fed by more than just the demands of war. The humiliation he''d suffered in Lyrnessus at the hands of its prince still burned within him, festering like a wound. Here, he sought retribution, eager to reclaim his pride by channeling his fury into the Trojans who dared to stand in his path. But while Aidan''s wrath was fierce, others on the battlefield were even more devastating, warriors whose very presence sent chills down the spines of their enemies. Two women, in particular, carved a path of ruin among the Trojan ranks, wielding their power with a precision that struck terror into any who dared to approach. .net One of them was a dark-haired figure, her jet-black hair tied in a swift ponytail that swayed behind her like a banner of death. Her movements were like lightning¡ªswift, fluid, and deadly. She danced through the battlefield, her blade flashing in arcs that left trails of blood and severed limbs in her wake. Heads rolled, bodies fell, yet she never paused to witness the destruction she wrought. It was Sienna slicing down every enemy within her reach. Even the hardened Trojan soldiers, men who had fought through countless skirmishes, began to retreat from her, their courage faltering at the sight of her relentless slaughter. It was whispered among them that Sienna was favored by Athena herself, and her presence bore testament to that divine blessing. She was Athena''s chosen¡ªher movements were precise, her strength unparalleled. Of all the Heroes of the Empire Light, Sienna stood as the strongest, a true embodiment of Athena''s wrath. Not far from Sienna, another figure burned a path through the battlefield, her power equally fearsome but striking in a different way. This young woman, younger than Sienna and adorned with a mane of long chestnut hair, seemed wreathed in flames, her body glowing with a fiery aura that mirrored the burning intensity of her gaze. Courtney was her name, and her approach was not swift or silent like Sienna''s. Instead, she moved like an inferno, leaving destruction in her wake. Where Sienna was swift and lethal, Courtney was deliberate, her kills slower but far more merciless. Trojans fell to her flames, their bodies engulfed, screams ringing out as they were reduced to smoldering ash. Her presence was so dreadful that soldiers, hardened though they were, instinctively recoiled, purposefully avoiding her path. Some attempted magic, sending spells hurtling toward her, but their attacks vanished against the wall of fire that cloaked her. Courtney moved forward with cold eyes, her expression devoid of pity or remorse, a predator focused solely on her prey. To her, this war was little more than training¡ªa preparation for a far darker vengeance she longed to unleash. The Trojan War, with its endless bloodshed, was merely the first act in her own tale of retribution. Courtney''s purpose lay beyond the defeat of the Trojans. She was driven by a promise of vengeance, a desire to make the Divine Knights suffer as she had suffered. They had taken Nathan from her, killing him without mercy, and she was determined to make them pay. One day, she vowed, her flames would consume them, burning their flesh as they had burned her heart. All of that because they had dared to take Nathan from her. Chapter 213: Trojan War: Courtney, Aisha and Gwen To her, this war was little more than training¡ªa preparation for a far darker vengeance she longed to unleash. The Trojan War, with its endless bloodshed, was merely the first act in her own tale of retribution. Courtney''s purpose lay beyond the defeat of the Trojans. She was driven by a promise of vengeance, a desire to make the Divine Knights suffer as she had suffered. They had taken Nathan from her, killing him without mercy, and she was determined to make them pay. One day, she vowed, her flames would consume them, burning their flesh as they had burned her heart. All of that because they had dared to take Nathan from her. None of Courtney''s classmates dared to interfere with the brutal onslaught she unleashed. They watched from a distance, their faces a mixture of awe and fear, but none took even a step forward. Fear was their first reason. In the months since Nathan''s death, Courtney had grown colder, distant, and terrifyingly intense. Her usual warmth had been replaced by an icy demeanor that made her classmates shudder. Only a few¡ªSienna, Siara, Aisha, and Amelia¡ªfelt comfortable enough to speak with her. These were Nathan''s closest companions, the only ones who could withstand the cold steel of her gaze and the raw grief simmering beneath her composure. But their reluctance wasn''t just rooted in fear. No one had the slightest intention of stopping Courtney''s rampage. Though her attacks were devastating, she held a clear restraint, careful not to harm any of her allies even amidst the chaos of battle. War was an unforgiving stage, and this particular battlefield was packed with thousands of warriors¡ªboth allies and enemies¡ªclashing with brutal intensity. Here, every spell, every sweep of a sword, had to be calculated. Wild, large-scale magic attacks could just as easily strike an ally as an enemy, so most chose to wield their swords, channeling magic only to enhance their blades. This was the unspoken rule of the battlefield: strike with precision or risk disaster. Nearby, Aisha fought as well, though her approach was a stark contrast to the frenzied power of Sienna or the cold ruthlessness of Courtney. Once, she too might have unleashed her fury with abandon, but not anymore. A profound change had come over her since that fateful encounter with Nathan. Discovering he was alive, sharing an intimate moment that reignited her heart, she felt as though she had been reborn. Happiness, raw and pure, flowed through her with a vigor she had never known. Her purpose here wasn''t driven by anger or vengeance but by a quiet loyalty and an inner peace only Nathan could grant. Discover stories with m,v l''e-novelhall.net Aisha knew Nathan was fighting for the Trojans. If he had asked her, she would have abstained from the war entirely, but he''d insisted she maintain her cover, to avoid arousing any suspicion from Liphiel or the others on her side. His only request was that she spare certain key figures¡ªthe Trojan commanders, Hector and Aeneas¡ªmen who were vital to the Trojan cause. They needed to survive if there was to be any hope of victory. Their communication was as covert as it was precious. During the frenzy of battle, Nathan would occasionally approach her, seemingly engaging her in combat, though their swords barely touched. In those brief, adrenaline-charged moments, they would exchange whispers, sharing intelligence and words of comfort. These fleeting exchanges were all Aisha needed. Though the moments were rare and hurried, each one lingered in her heart. They would share information on Greek movements, trade knowing glances, and, when the chaos around them permitted, a swift, stolen kiss¡ªfleeting but filled with the passion and reassurance they both craved. In these brief encounters, Aisha found strength. She fought on not out of duty or bloodlust but for those precious moments with Nathan, for the possibility of a future where they could finally be free from this conflict. For now, she was content to play her part, to keep their secret safe, and to savor the rare glimpses of love in the midst of war. "Bunch of cowards! Are all Greeks this weak?!" she roared, her voice booming across the battlefield before she swung her sword in a devastating arc, decapitating several Greek soldiers in a single, brutal motion. The blood splashed across her bronze armor, blending with the crimson stains already decorating her skin. Behind her, dozens of Amazons fought with equal ferocity, their loyalty to their queen unwavering. "Kill them all! Don''t you dare lose to these weaklings!" Penthesilea commanded, her voice harsh but commanding, a war cry that spurred her warriors forward with renewed fury. "Yes, my Queen!" the Amazons responded in unison, their voices a fierce and loyal chorus as they surged ahead, clashing with the Greeks in a whirl of blades and shrieks. They moved like a force of nature, each Amazon fighting with a skill and tenacity that could only come from a lineage said to be blessed by Ares himself, the god of war. Penthesilea''s grin grew wider as she scanned the chaos, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. Yet there was something she sought, someone she desired to challenge above all others. "Where is Achilles?" she bellowed, her voice dripping with disdain. "Is he hiding, cowering behind his ranks?" A mocking laugh escaped her, loud and fearless. But despite her taunts, Achilles was nowhere to be found, caught in a different part of the battlefield where the ranks of Trojans surged endlessly. She moved through their numbers as if they were mere obstacles, dispatching soldiers with lethal precision, each strike of her sword an unrelenting storm. It was clear she wasn''t yet fighting with her full strength, merely cutting through as if this were some twisted sport, her expression one of amusement as she tore through the Trojan forces. "Do you wish to meet death so soon, Queen of the Amazons?" The voice was calm but laced with challenge, cutting through the noise of the battlefield. It belonged to none other than Atalanta, the famed huntress. She stood poised, her bow raised high, releasing a relentless torrent of arrows, each one finding its mark with deadly precision, toppling Greek soldiers like dominos. Penthesilea whipped her head around, her fierce gaze locking onto the huntress. "Do you seek death, Atalanta? I don''t care if you''re favored by Artemis herself." Her eyes burned with defiance, her lips curling into a mocking smile. Atalanta met her glare evenly, her voice steady. "It''s simply advice. I''ve crossed paths with Achilles before. He''s no ordinary man, and I doubt even Hector would stand a chance against him." Chapter 214: Trojan War: Atalantas thinking Penthesilea whipped her head around, her fierce gaze locking onto the huntress. "Do you seek death, Atalanta? I don''t care if you''re favored by Artemis herself." Her eyes burned with defiance, her lips curling into a mocking smile. Atalanta met her glare evenly, her voice steady. "It''s simply advice. I''ve crossed paths with Achilles before. He''s no ordinary man, and I doubt even Hector would stand a chance against him." Her words were laced with a rare note of caution, a warning to a fellow commander despite their fierce rivalry. Penthesilea laughed, undeterred. "I''ll kill him, and you can watch me do it, Atalanta," she taunted, undaunted by the warning. Atalanta said nothing further, her expression unreadable as she shifted her gaze back to the battlefield. It was, after all, just advice, a word of caution from one commander to another. She knew Achilles'' strength was unlike any other. Perhaps even with the combined efforts of Hector, Aeneas, Sarpedon, and Penthesilea, they could barely hope to match him. But she understood the value of each of Troy''s great leaders and warriors. Losing Penthesilea to Achilles would be a devastating blow to the Trojans, and that was a cost Atalanta couldn''t bear to see paid. In her heart, Atalanta fought for more than just Troy''s victory. She fought for Artemis, for the goddess''s honor, and for the preservation of what Troy represented. That was why she positioned herself at the rear, eyes constantly scanning the field, ready to provide cover for the commanders. Her keen gaze traced the movements of each critical leader¡ªHector, Aeneas, Sarpedon, and even Paris, each one engaged in their own brutal battles, rallying their soldiers across different fronts. Her eyes lingered on Paris for a moment. She had underestimated him, she realized. Though slender and seemingly preoccupied, he wielded his bow with precision and strength that surprised her. But she also saw the personal drive behind his movements, a desperation that left him vulnerable. Paris was motivated not by victory for Troy, but by the fear of losing Helen, the woman he loved. It was both his strength and his weakness, and Atalanta worried it might cloud his judgment when he needed clarity the most. Yet, amidst the chaos, two others caught Atalanta''s sharp eye. They weren''t commanders, nor were they of Trojan blood¡ªthey were mercenaries, hired swords in the service of Troy. One of them was a stunning woman with sea-blue hair, a beauty that could rival Atalanta''s own. Her movements were graceful yet fierce as she fought beside Aeneas, her blade flashing in deadly arcs to protect him from advancing Greek soldiers. Atalanta recalled her name¡ªCharys. She was skilled, powerful, and there was something almost magnetic in her presence, a calm yet ferocious intensity. It puzzled Atalanta, however, that Charys wasn''t fighting alongside her usual partner, Heiron, who was also on the battlefield. But here, among the Trojans¡ªHector, Aeneas, and even the outsiders like Heiron and Charybdis¡ªshe felt something she never anticipated: a genuine bond. It wasn''t just the camaraderie of warriors who fought side by side; it was something more, something she hadn''t felt even during her journeys with the Argonauts, Jason, Heracles, and Orpheus. Back then, she had been a warrior among warriors, nothing more. They respected each other''s skill, but there had been no warmth, no connection like what she felt now with these people from a foreign land. When she thought about potentially facing her former Greek allies in battle, she was surprised by her own indifference. The thought of encountering Jason, Heracles, or Orpheus stirred nothing in her heart. It was simply a matter of duty, but for the Trojans? She found herself genuinely caring about their fate. They weren''t fighting for glory or conquest; they fought for their city, their families, their way of life. And despite the simpler path of casting Helen out to appease the Greeks, they chose to shield her within Troy''s walls, standing firm on principle and loyalty. They were, in every way, honorable and good. For the first time in her life, Atalanta felt sure she was on the right side of a conflict. It brought her an unexpected sense of joy, and perhaps, a hope she hadn''t dared to nurture¡ªthat maybe, this time, everything would end well. After all, Artemis herself was watching over them, surely guiding her steps on this path. Atalanta turned her gaze to the distant, towering walls of Troy. Her sharp sight, blessed by Artemis, discerned a lone figure sitting atop the battlements, watching over the battlefield with a serene, steady gaze. It was Artemis, her goddess, her protector, calmly observing the bloody dance of war below. But if Nathan, known here as Heiron, were to look up, he would see not only Artemis but two other divine figures beside her. Aphrodite stood close, her smile soft and bittersweet, eyes fixed lovingly on her son, Aeneas. Next to her, a tall, muscular man with flaming red hair and an eager, fierce grin surveyed the chaos¡ªAres, god of war, taking in the spectacle of battle with pride and excitement. .net Across the battlefield, two other goddesses stood in silent vigil over the Greek forces. Athena, the wise and composed goddess of strategy, watched with a calm, unblinking focus. But beside her, Hera fidgeted, a scowl darkening her face as she observed the growing momentum of Troy''s defenders. Her gaze kept falling back to Hector, Troy''s unbreakable spirit, as he cut through the Greeks like a force of nature. Hector was stealing the light, and Hera, ever resentful, could barely contain her displeasure. Chapter 216: Heirons message He met Nathan''s gaze¡ªthose cold, unyielding blue eyes staring back at him with merciless precision. Nathan held Teucer''s decapitated head by its hair, his arm raised as he hurled it high into the sky. The severed head arced over the battlefield, visible to all with keen enough vision. Greek kings and commanders across the battlefield turned, witnessing the grim trophy as it spun through the air, blood raining down. But Nathan''s aim was clear. He wanted only one man to see it: Ajax. In that moment, countless eyes turned skyward, watching the grisly spectacle of Teucer''s head spinning through the air. "It''s Teucer!" someone gasped. "Someone killed him!" "No way!" Find your next read on m_v l|e-novelhall.net The murmurs of shock spread rapidly among the Greek soldiers. Teucer, though not as mighty as his renowned brother Ajax, was still celebrated as the son of Telamon. His strength was respected among the Greeks, and his lineage alone commanded a certain reverence. Now, his head had been severed in one clean stroke by a mere mercenary fighting for Troy. "Look, Ajax! It''s your brother''s head!" one of Ajax''s own men jeered, followed by the chuckles of several others. For them, this was merely another brutal instance of war¡ªa battlefield quip with little thought to Teucer''s death. After all, Teucer had always been overshadowed by his brother, often regarded as little more than Ajax''s jealous sibling. His passing stirred little sentiment from those who stood alongside the greater hero. But Ajax himself stared at his half-brother''s head as it plummeted to the earth. For a fleeting moment, his face hardened, a mix of irritation and obligation crossing his expression. He had never cared much for Teucer; to him, his brother was a lesser warrior, barely worth acknowledging. And yet, this public display of Teucer''s severed head felt pointed, a challenge thrown squarely in Ajax''s direction. Though he dismissed Teucer as a weakling, they shared blood, and blood demanded vengeance. Whoever had dared to humiliate the Greeks in such a manner¡ªlet alone target his family¡ªhad issued a silent call for retribution, and Ajax would answer it. It wasn''t for Teucer''s sake but for the honor of Salamis and the pride of its king. Still, Ajax was far from the place where his brother had fallen, too distant to see the face of his killer. He resolved to seek answers among his men, but one thing was certain: whoever was responsible would soon face him in battle, and they would not live long. Elsewhere on the battlefield, the other Greek kings had also noticed the spectacle. Some watched with mild interest, though most were unfazed. The Trojan forces boasted many formidable fighters¡ªeven aside from Hector¡ªso seeing a Greek like Teucer fall wasn''t altogether shocking to them. But Odysseus, ever the shrewd strategist, studied the scene with narrowed eyes. From his position in the rear, he had been observing the battlefield closely, marking the movements of each key figure as he plotted his next steps. He knew the layout of both armies, noting each warrior''s place every hour. He was certain Teucer had fallen near Hector''s location, but a nagging thought crept into his mind. This retreat signal had become a ritual over the past two months¡ªa tacit agreement between both armies, marking the end of each day''s brutal conflict. As the bell tolled, it was as if an unspoken truce descended upon them, the two sides slipping back to their camps to lick their wounds and gather their strength for the inevitable clashes to come. Nathan, however, lingered a moment longer, his gaze drifting over the retreating Greek lines. Amid the fading figures, he caught sight of someone watching him¡ªa lone figure whose gaze burned through the distance with unsettling intensity. Odysseus, the shrewd King of Ithaca. Aphrodite had warned Nathan about him. Odysseus was no Achilles or Agamemnon, known for brute strength or bluster. He was different, a man of quiet cunning and unnervingly sharp intelligence. Athena''s chosen, a strategist whose mind was a weapon as deadly as any blade. Odysseus held the Greeks together, mending their rifts and cooling their tempers. Even Achilles, the godlike warrior, respected and listened to Odysseus, treating him as an equal, a man with the rare skill to calm him. "Coming, Heiron?" Hector''s voice called him back to the present. He placed a steadying hand on Nathan''s shoulder, guiding him away from the lingering thoughts of his enemy. Nathan cast one last look upwards, almost as though he could glimpse the gazes of Hera and Athena watching from the heavens, each Goddess following the unfolding of the day''s events with their own secret intentions. But he resisted the urge and turned back, following Hector''s lead. As the Trojans slipped behind their fortified walls, the Greeks began their solemn task of recovering their fallen, retrieving the bodies of their comrades in the solemn twilight. Once the Greeks retreated, the Trojans would return to the battlefield to reclaim their own, carrying them home to lay them to rest with honor and dignity. Soon, night fell, blanketing the land in deep shadows. As the Trojans filed through the gates in disciplined, winding lines, Hector took his place at the very front, leading his soldiers with quiet pride. He wore the marks of the day''s brutal clashes¡ªdust-streaked armor, faint lines of sweat, and a resolute, unyielding expression. It was a ritual by now, this triumphant return, designed to remind the people of Troy that their champion had returned alive, unbroken, from another fierce day of battle. It was as much a display for his warriors as for the citizens, a small but essential spark to keep their spirits high amidst the relentless cycle of war. Nathan walked at Hector''s side, his presence equally powerful and striking. On either side of the path, crowds gathered, their voices swelling into cheers that rolled through the air like thunder. Young children gazed up in awe, their wide eyes following the soldiers with a mixture of admiration and excitement. For them, these warriors were heroes of legend, and each day''s return from battle was a moment to celebrate, a reassurance of safety, and a reminder of Troy''s strength. This wasn''t a victory parade¡ªno land had been won, and no decisive blow struck¡ªbut it had become a daily testament to resilience, a steady beat to fortify the hearts of the Trojans. Nathan exchanged glances with the crowd, feeling their energy as it mixed with his own. He could see in their faces that this daily march, though simple, worked a quiet magic, lifting the spirits of all who watched. Soldiers, too, absorbed the atmosphere, the cheers infusing them with renewed strength to face the uncertainties of the next dawn. As they made their way further into the city, Aeneas, who had been walking with the column, turned his head toward Heiron, a grin lighting up his face. "Hey, Heiron! Are you coming to the feast of tonight?" Chapter 217: Trojan feast Nathan exchanged glances with the crowd, feeling their energy as it mixed with his own. He could see in their faces that this daily march, though simple, worked a quiet magic, lifting the spirits of all who watched. Soldiers, too, absorbed the atmosphere, the cheers infusing them with renewed strength to face the uncertainties of the next dawn. As they made their way further into the city, Aeneas, who had been walking with the column, turned his head toward Heiron, a grin lighting up his face. "Hey, Heiron! Are you coming to the feast of tonight?" The feast was an exclusive gathering, a nightly tribute to the finest soldiers of Troy. Only those who had proven their strength and valor against the Greeks were granted entry, and among them were the commanders whose names were already whispered with awe. Heiron, as Nathan was known to the Trojans, had earned his place at these feasts countless times. His performance on the battlefield that day, cutting down a Greek commander with astonishing ease, had once again secured his invitation. Yet, despite the honor, Nathan felt an exhaustion that went beyond the weariness of battle. In the two months he had been in Troy, he had attended his fair share of these banquets, and the routine of them had begun to wear thin. It wasn''t that he disliked the feasts themselves; the food and wine were abundant, the halls filled with laughter and song, and the camaraderie was genuine. But the questions¡ªendless and prying¡ªwore on his patience. There was always a curious face, eager to know more about this mysterious warrior. People asked about his origins, pressing him for tales of his homeland and family. Others wanted to know where he had fought before, why he was so skilled, or whether the beautiful woman who had once accompanied him was married. Nathan had spun countless tales, weaving layers of fabricated history, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the lies straight. Details slipped through his memory, and he couldn''t remember half the stories he''d told a month prior. So, he had learned to avoid the feasts whenever he could. But tonight, his presence would be hard to refuse; his recent feat had stirred up a storm of admiration, and he had little choice but to attend, lest he appear suspicious or aloof. Aeneas, now one of Nathan''s closest friends in Troy, had extended the invitation personally, and Nathan had declined his requests too many times already. Hector, too, would have appreciated his company, though he never pushed Nathan to attend. Sensing his reluctance, Aeneas leaned in, his voice low and reassuring. "Don''t worry," he said with a conspiratorial grin. "I''ll keep the others at bay tonight." Nathan exhaled, feeling a flicker of gratitude. Aeneas had quickly picked up on his discomfort with all the prying questions, understanding how out of place Nathan felt beneath their scrutiny. "Fine," Nathan replied, allowing a small smile. "I''ll take a bath and be there soon." He had already sent Charybdis ahead without him, hoping for a quiet evening to himself, but he knew he could not escape tonight''s gathering. With a nod to Aeneas, he turned back toward his quarters, hoping this would be one of the quieter nights, free from the ceaseless questions and curious stares. A whole day of battle had already drained his mental reserves, and all he wished for was a moment''s peace amidst the feast''s lively chaos. "You''ve done well in guarding Hector up to now," she said, her tone gentle yet cautious. "But be warned¡ªHera''s anger is rising. She might make her move soon, and she''ll stop at nothing to see Hector dead. Be on guard." Nathan''s face darkened at the mention of Hera, the troublesome goddess who had opposed him since his arrival in this strange world. To him, she was nothing but an incessant, omnipresent nuisance, constantly stirring trouble from her seat of power. "That goddess will be dealt with soon enough," he muttered darkly. Aphrodite''s eyes widened slightly, her lips quivering with the urge to laugh. Nathan spoke of Hera as if she were some common adversary, a mere mortal woman who could be dismissed and dealt with at his convenience. Yet Hera was no ordinary foe¡ªshe was the Queen of Olympus, wife to the mighty Zeus himself. Still, there was something irresistibly audacious about Nathan''s attitude, his willingness to defy even the highest gods. One thing was certain¡ªNathan possessed a courage that bordered on reckless, but perhaps, in this world of capricious deities and ancient powers, it was precisely that fearlessness that set him apart. "How''s Khione?" Nathan asked, his voice softening as he brought up the one woman who lingered in his mind, the one he yearned to see most. Memories of their last encounter flooded back¡ªa stolen moment before he''d left for Uteska. She had given him a nice blowjob that day. It felt like years had passed since that day, the longing sharpening within him. Aphrodite observed his reaction with an understanding smile. "She''s fine, though she still has to stay hidden," she replied. "Poseidon''s still hunting her down like a madman." She chuckled lightly, though Nathan''s expression only darkened. The thought of Poseidon pursuing Khione filled Nathan with a cold rage. If he could, he would have killed the sea god already¡ªeliminated the threat that loomed over his woman. But Poseidon was strong, his strength leagues beyond what Nathan could currently handle. For now, he needed patience, a carefully crafted plan. He gritted his teeth. "Make sure she''s never found by that bastard." "I''ll do my best." Aphrodite nodded, though her playful pout returned as she stepped closer, her delicate fingers trailing up his arm before settling around his waist. Without warning, she pressed her soft, warm body against his back, her arms wrapped around him in an intimate embrace. She leaned forward, her lips grazing his neck, leaving a series of lingering, featherlight kisses. "Why don''t you show the same worry for me, Nate?" she whispered, her breath warm against his skin. Nathan tensed, feeling the heat of her touch and the intoxicating scent that clung to her. Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty, and every part of her was crafted to allure. His body responded immediately, an involuntary reaction to her closeness. Chapter 218: Aphrodite... "I''ll do my best." Aphrodite nodded, though her playful pout returned as she stepped closer, her delicate fingers trailing up his arm before settling around his waist. Without warning, she pressed her soft, warm body against his back, her arms wrapped around him in an intimate embrace. She leaned forward, her lips grazing his neck, leaving a series of lingering, featherlight kisses. "Why don''t you show the same worry for me, Nate?" she whispered, her breath warm against his skin. Nathan tensed, feeling the heat of her touch and the intoxicating scent that clung to her. Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty, and every part of her was crafted to allure. His body responded immediately, an involuntary reaction to her closeness. Her scent was sweet and heady, her hair brushing softly against his shoulder, and the faint hint of her perfume filled the air, potent and alluring. For a moment, he almost gave in, tempted to pin her against the bed and make her his, to release the tension that had been building. But Nathan managed to resist, his willpower honed from countless encounters. "Do I need to?" he replied coolly, his voice masking the struggle within. Aphrodite gave a soft, frustrated sigh, her pout deepening. "Hera despises me, and Ares is always on my heels, constantly pestering me to sleep with him," she complained, her tone a mixture of irritation and weariness. Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Didn''t you already sleep with him?" "That was ten thousand years ago," she muttered, a hint of regret in her voice. "I was young, foolish... and a bit too impulsive back then." "Then refuse him," Nathan said simply, shrugging off the complications with practical indifference. Aphrodite''s expression turned to one of mild frustration, her lips pursing as she searched for the words to explain. "If only it were that simple. I... I made a deal with him. I asked him to step in for Apollo, to lend his war magic to the Trojans so they could counter Athena''s influence on the battlefield." She paused, her gaze troubled. "If Ares realizes I''ve manipulated him, he''ll pull his support¡ªand without that, Troy''s defenses will weaken. ? "I thought he hated Athena?" Nathan asked, arching an eyebrow. "Wouldn''t he help you out just to have the satisfaction of humiliating her?" Aphrodite sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "He doesn''t like her, true. But his obsession with me overshadows everything else. If I don''t give him what he wants, he''s the kind to make sure he gets it... one way or another." Nathan''s eyes widened. "You''re saying he might even switch to the Greeks'' side just to force you into bed?" He shook his head in disbelief. Ares'' motivations seemed shallow, driven by little more than primal urges. Didn''t he have any ambition beyond satisfying his lust? He''s no better than Poseidon, still hunting for Khione, all just to fuck her. Enjoy new stories from m-v l''e|-novelhall.net never had anyone dared to take. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she gasped into his mouth as her ample breasts were crushed against his chest, the soft mounds straining against the thin fabric of her dress. Nathan''s hands were rough, insistent, his fingers splayed possessively against the curve of her spine. Her nipples stiffened at the contact, hardening into aching peaks that rubbed tantalizingly against the coarse material of his shirt. Nathan''s eyes blazed with a fire that sent shivers cascading down her spine. He looked down at her, eyes drawn to the generous swell of her breasts, the deep valley between them that seemed to promise all sorts of forbidden pleasures. Her dress was a flimsy thing, almost translucent, clinging to her curves, barely containing the soft flesh that threatened to spill free. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting, exploring, ravaging. She tasted sweet, like honeyed ambrosia, like something divine and forbidden, and it drove him wild. His free hand slipped lower, fingers brushing against her thighs, rough palms caressing the soft, silky skin. Aphrodite''s knees went weak as his hand slid up, up, beneath her dress, and she gasped, her voice a breathless moan that vibrated against his lips. "Hmmmff??~~~" Her thighs parted almost instinctively, granting him access, and his fingers found her bare, wet and ready. There were no barriers between them; she hadn''t bothered with undergarments, confident in her allure, never expecting someone to take advantage of it so brazenly. Nathan''s fingers teased her slick folds, spreading the wetness that pooled there, and Aphrodite shuddered, her hips bucking involuntarily into his touch. When his thumb found her clitoris, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, her head fell back, lips parting in a silent cry of pleasure. Her pussy clenched around nothing, desperate and needy, a wet heat that he could feel pulsing against his fingers. He broke the kiss just long enough to watch her face, the way her pink eyes glazed over with lust, her cheeks flushed a deep, enchanting red. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body quivering like a taut bowstring ready to snap. Nathan smirked, his eyes dark with mischief and triumph. "Such a good girl, cumming so easily for me," he whispered against her lips, and he wasn''t disappointed. He could feel it, the way her pussy tightened, a fresh rush of wetness as she came undone around his fingers. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking her cum clean, savoring the taste. "Even your cum tastes divine," he murmured, voice low and rough, and the words sent another shiver through her. Aphrodite''s knees buckled, and she leaned against him for support, her body still quaking with aftershocks of pleasure. Nathan pulled away abruptly, leaving her breathless, trembling, her heart racing in her chest. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers, that wicked smirk still playing on his lips. "I have a feast to attend," he said, his tone casual, as if he hadn''t just turned her world upside down. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Aphrodite standing there, her dress rumpled, her body aching for more, her lips tingling from his savage kiss. As the door closed behind him, Aphrodite pressed her fingers to her swollen lips, her mind a haze of confusion and desire. She was the goddess of love, the embodiment of seduction, and yet... yet she had been the one left wanting, the one who had been taken. Chapter 219: Kassandras vision "Finally, you''ve arrived, Heiron! I was beginning to think you''d escape our company again!" Aeneas''s voice rang out, loud and jovial, as he spotted Nathan entering the grand hall. His laughter echoed off the high stone walls, carrying a warmth that softened the hardened edges of the warrior''s features. Nathan offered a faint smile and nodded as Hector, standing nearby, joined in the welcome with a gentle nod and a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "Oh, Heiron, you made it after all." The Trojans gathered around were still engrossed in their feasting, laughter and chatter weaving through the air like a vibrant tapestry. Many of the soldiers paused briefly, nodding respectfully at Nathan, acknowledging his presence. The esteem in their eyes was unmistakable. He had become someone worthy of respect, a hero among them¡ªespecially after the story of how he had slain Teucer, brother to Ajax, had spread like wildfire through the ranks. They had either witnessed the momentous duel themselves or heard of it from those who had. As Nathan took a seat among them, his gaze swept over the feasting Trojans. Amidst the plates of roasted meats, pitchers of wine, and golden torches casting flickering light across the stone walls, he couldn''t help but question the indulgence. "Is it really wise to hold feast after feast, considering we''re still surrounded by the Greeks?" Hector''s laughter burst forth, hearty and untroubled. "Ah, perhaps not! But Troy is a prosperous city, blessed with wealth and resources. We''ve prepared well for this siege. Besides," he added, his tone softening as he looked around at his men, "feasts like these are needed to keep the spirits of our soldiers high. A long war can grind down even the stoutest of hearts." "Then let''s not let it drag on," Nathan replied, his voice steady, a flash of coldness glinting in his eyes. "Let''s end this war before the next year dawns." Both Hector and Aeneas exchanged a startled glance. There was a firmness, almost an audacious confidence, in Nathan''s words. Yet, somehow, that confidence felt contagious, stirring something hopeful in those listening. "That would be a wish come true for all of us," Aeneas said, chuckling, though a shadow passed over his face. "But... I doubt it will happen." Nathan''s brow furrowed. The certainty in Aeneas''s words piqued his curiosity. "Why so certain?" he asked, studying Aeneas''s expression closely. Experience tales at m v|l e''-novelhall.net As much as he had grown to respect the people of Troy, his heart wasn''t bound to this city. Life here was surprisingly kind; the people treated him with warmth and respect, a stark contrast to how he had been received in the Empire of Light. He had found camaraderie, even friendship, among warriors like Hector and Aeneas. Yet, for all its newfound warmth, Troy was not his home. He had his own goals, ambitions that stretched beyond the walls of this embattled city. "I should speak with Astynome," Nathan thought, glancing once more at Kassandra. Astynome, the daughter of Apollo, shared the god''s gifts of foresight and divination. Perhaps she could offer some insight into Kassandra''s prophecies, help him understand whether destiny could be bent or broken. The thought of a future carved in stone unsettled him. If the fall of Troy was inevitable, then he would find a way to rewrite it. "Well, look who decided to show up after all," a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. Nathan turned to see Atalanta approaching, her features bright with a rare smile. "Yeah," he replied, a half-smile playing on his lips. Over the past two months, he had come to know Atalanta far better than he ever would have expected. Their initial encounter¡ªwhen he had made off with the Golden Fleece right under her nose¡ªhad not exactly paved the way for friendship. Yet, somehow, through shared battles and fleeting moments of understanding, their relationship had taken a surprising turn. She was quick-witted and fierce, a skilled hunter with a sharp eye for both enemies and allies. In her, he saw a kindred spirit. He wondered, though, what her reaction would be if she ever learned the truth about him¡ªif she realized he was not the Heiron she believed him to be, but the Lord Commander of Tenebria, the man who had stolen the Golden Fleece they had been looking for months. Nathan watched the lively hall, feeling a mix of camaraderie and caution among the Trojans. While he was far from his own homeland, the trust and bonds he had built here over the past months grounded him. These were people he respected¡ªespecially Hector, Aeneas, and even Atalanta. Though initially wary of her, he had come to see that Atalanta was a strong-hearted woman, driven by a sense of duty and perhaps a bit of pride in earning Artemis''s favor. That dedication, however fierce, was something he could understand. "He''s just shy," Aeneas teased, shifting the subject smoothly. They were all aware that rumors of Kassandra''s bleak vision could cause an uproar if spread among the people. Nathan realized the wisdom in keeping such news quiet; it would only stoke fear and uncertainty among the Trojans, whose morale was already stretched by the ongoing siege. Nathan was still surprised, though, that they had confided this in him. It was a proof to the depth of their trust, a rare and fragile bond he hadn''t expected to form in enemy territory. He supposed it made sense, given what they''d been through together. Countless battles, ambushes, nights of blood and sweat¡ªthey had come to rely on one another in a way that words couldn''t quite capture. He trusted them, too, at least as far as one could in wartime. Even Atalanta, with her fierce loyalty and quiet reservations, had proved herself time and again to be a steadfast ally. As his thoughts wandered, Nathan''s gaze landed on Charybdis across the room. She was surrounded by several Trojan men, their laughter and attempts at flirtation filling the air around her. Charybdis, however, seemed uncomfortable, her posture stiff and her smile strained. Nathan could sense her unease¡ªshe looked as though she would rather be anywhere else but here, enduring their advances only out of a sense of duty, perhaps because she didn''t want to let him down by leaving. With a quiet sigh, Nathan excused himself from Aeneas and Hector, weaving his way through the crowd toward her. When he reached her side, he didn''t bother with formalities, recognizing her discomfort instantly. "Let''s talk." Chapter 220 Charybdis 220 Charybdis As I sensed Charybdis''s discomfort ripple through the room, I moved toward her. She was never at ease in gatherings, especially with strangers. People made her uneasy; only a few exceptions¡ªScylla, Medea, and I¡ªhad ever managed to gain her trust, after a long time of fight and blood shedding.... Even though she''d spent time with the Trojans, she couldn''t seem to find a natural ease with them, nothing like the familiarity she shared with us. "Let''s talk," I murmured softly as I neared her. My presence alone was enough to scatter the nearby Trojans, who parted and left us in an instant. Charybdis looked up at me, her usual stoic expression easing ever so slightly, relief flickering in her gaze as if I had pulled her from a raging sea. Without a word, she fell into step beside me, and we slipped away to a secluded corner of the hall, a place quiet enough for us to speak without interruption. I could feel a lingering gaze on us, one that felt like Atalanta''s¡ªand perhaps another''s¡ªbut I pushed the thought aside. Once we were alone, I offered a reassuring smile. "You did well today, Charybdis. Keep up the good work and stay close to Aeneas." Charybdis nodded in acknowledgment, but there was a faint frown that creased her brow, subtle yet unmistakable. "What''s wrong?" I asked, sensing her hesitation. "I... should be protecting you, Samael," she replied, her voice quiet but laced with a stubborn resolve. "Do you think I need protecting?" I countered, a hint of amusement in my voice. Without a moment''s hesitation, she answered, "No. But I made a promise to Medea and Scylla that I would protect you." The corners of my mouth lifted in a half-smile. Those three had formed a bond stronger than I had anticipated¡ªperhaps united by their fierce, almost obsessive loyalty toward me. I leaned in, my breath warm against her ear, my voice a murmur that barely carried over the hum of the crowded hall. "Let''s take care of that tension," I whispered, the words laced with promises that sparked something deep within her. "I''ll help you take back control." Her reaction was immediate, almost visceral¡ªa shiver traveled up her spine, delicate yet undeniable, as her gaze met mine, flickering with a blend of anticipation and need. The hall was crowded, but we found a pocket of privacy, tucked away in a secluded alcove. I drew a curtain across, leaving us in a quiet, shadowed space, half-hidden from the bustling world outside. The faint sounds of laughter and clinking glasses faded, leaving only the charged silence between us. We blended into the stillness, our presence muted, slipping into a space where only she and I existed. With a firm touch, I grasped her chin, tilting her face up to meet mine, and pressed my lips to hers. Her lips were cold, soft as velvet under mine, sending a jolt through me. "Hmmn~~~" She let out a soft, involuntary moan as I lingered, savoring the taste, tracing the line of her jaw, letting my tongue glide over the delicate curve of her chin before capturing her mouth again. Her reaction was immediate, each quiet gasp and shiver drawing us closer to the edge. "Get down." My voice was barely above a whisper, but it held a command that she didn''t hesitate to follow. She sank to her knees, her eyes steady on mine as she settled herself before me, her breath coming in soft, eager puffs. With a slow, practiced motion, I eased down my pants, revealing myself to her, thick and heavy, still soft but throbbing with anticipation. Her gaze lingered, her lips parting just slightly as she took me in, her fingers already moving to wrap around me, gentle but insistent. Her touch was soft, her hands cool and deft, each stroke awakening a deeper need within me. She was focused, attentive, her grip firm as she began to move, each stroke a careful, deliberate caress, guided by instinct and an undeniable eagerness. I reached out, threading my fingers through her midnight-blue hair, relishing the feel of the silken strands against my hand. My touch seemed to ignite something in her, and her pace quickened, her strokes coming faster, each one pulling me closer to that edge of raw, unrestrained need. With my cock swelling in her hand, the warmth of her breath washed over me as she leaned forward, her lips parting just slightly before her tongue darted out to graze my sensitive tip. Her tongue moved slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each inch, and I couldn''t help but shudder, a low, quiet groan slipping from my lips. The sheer indulgence of her mouth against me¡ªsoft, warm, and wet¡ªsent a shiver down my spine, heightening every nerve. She let out a satisfied murmur, a sound that seemed to roll straight through me, amplifying the pleasure with each gentle lap. Her gaze flicked up to mine as she worked, her eyes half-lidded, filled with a desire that matched my own. There was something intensely satisfying about the way she approached me, as if she were tasting something precious, something she''d waited for, her tongue swirling over the head of my cock before dipping down again to trace the sensitive slit, where my precum was already starting to bead. "Sluuurp!" The sight of her leaning in again, her mouth moving over my length, licking away every drop of my precum as if it were the sweetest nectar, made my cock twitch in response, a fresh surge of arousal pumping through me. Her cheeks flushed a faint pink as she tasted it, her lashes fluttering for just a moment, but her hunger was unmistakable. The desire to drink in every part of me was written on her face. Chapter 221 Charybdiss tongue work and...* 221 Charybdis''s tongue work and...* "Sluuurp!" The sight of her leaning in again, her mouth moving over my length, licking away every drop of my precum as if it were the sweetest nectar, made my cock twitch in response, a fresh surge of arousal pumping through me. Her cheeks flushed a faint pink as she tasted it, her lashes fluttering for just a moment, but her hunger was unmistakable. The desire to drink in every part of me was written on her face. I couldn''t help the reaction that shivered through me as well, a raw need written plainly across my face as her tongue worked me over, coaxing every nerve to life. "Sluuurp~~... sluuurp~~... sluuurp!..." The sound of her licks filled the quiet space, a lewd rhythm that seemed to amplify with each swipe of her tongue, the way she lavished attention on my swollen, pink tip, flicking her tongue playfully, teasing me with every stroke. Her gaze flickered up at me, those eyes half-lidded, a mix of hunger and mischief as her tongue circled my head, each warm, wet swirl more exquisite than the last. She knew exactly how to drive me mad, how to drag out each second of pleasure until it tightened into something nearly unbearable. When more precum beaded up, slipping from me in a surge I couldn''t hold back, her reaction was instant. She leaned in, that soft, eager mouth of hers capturing every drop, her tongue flicking upward with slow, savoring licks, a look of satisfaction crossing her face as she tasted me. I felt the throb of my need pulse under her touch, her hand steadying my shaft as her tongue darted out, swirling over me, savoring the taste of my precum as if it were made for her alone. I stroked her hair, urging her on, feeling her shiver under my hand as she caught the hint, her fingers tightening slightly as her mouth closed around my cock, inch by inch disappearing into that warm, inviting heat. "Oh god..." I exhaled, barely able to hold back my voice, the sight of my cock sliding into her mouth a vivid thrill. Her lips stretched around me, her cheeks hollowing as she drew me deeper, her mouth wet and hot, each stroke of her tongue setting me aflame. Her head began to move in slow, unhurried bobs, a steady rhythm as her fingers stroked along my shaft, squeezing lightly in time with each descent. The sounds were pure bliss¡ªa chorus of slurps and muffled moans, her mouth working over me with focused abandon. "Hmpff~... sluuurp!... hmpff~~..." The slick, wet noises filled my ears, her cheeks flushed with the effort as she bobbed her head, coating me with her saliva until every inch was slick, sensitive, and throbbing. "Good... keep going," I murmured, my fingers threading through her hair, guiding her gently as she fell into the rhythm, her mouth wrapping around me like a vice. "Sluuuuuurp!" Charybdis obliged, her tongue swirling over the tip in broad, strokes, sending sparks up my spine. I let my hand fall onto her head, fingers threading through her soft, blue hair, and she responded by pressing forward, taking me deeper, her eyes closing as if drinking in every pulse of desire coursing through me. "W-What are you doing?" she stammered, her cheeks deepening to a rosy pink. "Leaving so soon?" I teased, my voice low. Her flushed cheeks told me everything. We had grown closer over these past months, teasing around the edges of what we both knew would happen. While I''d yet to truly claim her, by taking her virginity she had knelt for me many times, her lips eager, her soft mouth learning every inch as she sucked my dick. I let my hand linger, pulling her a step closer. "Here?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a murmur, her eyes darting around, worried by the close presence of others at the banquet. "Don''t worry about them," I assured her with a confident smirk. With a flick of my fingers, a shimmering barrier formed around us, a soft, transparent veil. It wouldn''t block sound completely like the barriers the gods wielded, but it would mask us enough. Without hesitation, I tugged her closer, guiding her down until her knees hit the floor beside Charybdis, who looked on with a bemused smile. Astynome''s gaze flickered from my face to my dick, her breathing quickening as she knelt there, the warmth of her body so close. "Don''t be shy now, it''s not your first time and won''t be the last one either," I murmured, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. She glanced up at me, her blue eyes filled with apprehension and excitement. I brought my hand to her cheek, stroking it gently, my thumb grazing her flushed skin. With my other hand, I guided my still-hard dick toward her lips, grazing the tip against the softness of her mouth. Her lips parted ever so slightly, her eyes meeting mine, a hint of surrender flickering within. Slowly, I pressed forward, feeling the warmth of her breath as I brushed my length against her trembling lips. She didn''t pull away¡ªinstead, she opened her mouth just enough, letting her lips graze the tip, her breath hitching as I played at her lips, teasing her. "Oh Astynome... " I groaned in pleasure. Astynome''s lips parted, delicate yet quite deliberate as they moved over the slick, sensitive flesh of my shaft. Her mouth felt different¡ªsofter, more hesitant than Charybdis''s eager hunger¡ªbut there was a kind of understated allure in her reluctance, a sweet contrast that made my spine tighten. Each time her lips slid further, they brought a pulse of pleasure, an edge of excitement at her exploration. My cock, still coated with Charybdis''s warm saliva, gleamed between her parted lips, catching the light in a way that only heightened the intensity as Astynome''s mouth enveloped me. Chapter 222 Charybdiss and Astynomes tongue works * 222 Charybdis''s and Astynome''s tongue works * Astynome''s lips parted, delicate yet quite deliberate as they moved over the slick, sensitive flesh of my shaft. Her mouth felt different¡ªsofter, more hesitant than Charybdis''s eager hunger¡ªbut there was a kind of understated allure in her reluctance, a sweet contrast that made my spine tighten. Each time her lips slid further, they brought a pulse of pleasure, an edge of excitement at her exploration. My cock, still coated with Charybdis''s warm saliva, gleamed between her parted lips, catching the light in a way that only heightened the intensity as Astynome''s mouth enveloped me. "Hmmm~~" Astynome''s eyes fluttered closed, a small moan escaping her, her pink lips sealing around my length. She began with a slow rhythm, the hesitant flick of her tongue just barely grazing the head, tasting the lingering traces of my previous release, hesitant yet driven. Her tongue curled, tentatively at first, then with growing boldness, tracing each contour, each ridge, tasting me in a way that sent shivers racing through every nerve ending. The wet, lewd sounds of her lips against my shaft filled the air¡ªsoft, rhythmic, like the slow ticking of desire growing into need. "Sluuurp~~... mmmhmm," she hummed, the vibration sinking deep into my skin. Her left hand, tentative but curious, stretched forward to rest on my thigh, a touch both possessive and yielding. Her fingertips pressed into my flesh as she steadied herself, her nails grazing my skin lightly. Her eyes opened halfway, stealing a glance up at me, before her mouth tightened, sucking harder, taking me deeper. But the gentle touch of her mouth was soon matched by the sultry presence of Charybdis, who was on her knees beside Astynome, the hint of dissatisfaction on her lips of being left alone as she leaned in close. Her eyes flashed with a knowing glint as she began nuzzling down, pressing her face against my thighs, her mouth a hair''s breadth away from where Astynome''s lips worked up and down my shaft. She let her tongue slip out, teasingly licking the underside, her warm breath mingling with Astynome''s. "Hamnnn~" "Gluuuurp!" And then, Charybdis''s mouth found my balls, soft lips grazing them before her tongue lavished slow, deliberate strokes, each one hotter than the last. Charybdis licked, sucked, and savored, treating each moment like a gift she intended to unwrap with relish. "Ooh..." I couldn''t hold back a groan as both their mouths worked in tandem, as if in sync, Astynome moving with steady, rhythmic strokes, her mouth forming a tight, slick seal that slid up and down, while Charybdis''s lips and tongue teased, lapping, and suckling in contrast, creating an endless cycle of pleasure that left me gripping their hair in one hand each, guiding them closer. I stroked their heads, feeling their soft hair tangle around my fingers, gently pressing them down, encouraging their mouths to sink further, to move faster, my hips involuntarily thrusting forward to meet them. "Sluuuurp!" "Hmmpff!" Astynome shuddered, adjusting to the increasingly fervent pace as her lips took in more and more of my length, her tongue circling the head with practiced finesse. She grew more daring, her hesitation melting away in the face of her own growing hunger. Charybdis shifted slightly, her mouth opening to take one of my balls entirely into her mouth, her tongue swirling as she suckled. The anticipation had roared in me for so long that every lick from Charybdis set my nerves on fire, her tongue dragging slow and wet along the tight skin of my balls, her breath hot, pulling me to the brink. My cock throbbed in Astynome''s warm mouth, her tongue dancing along the underside, flicking every sensitive spot as she took me deeper, her lips stretched tight around me. I couldn''t resist; my hips bucked, driving myself further down, her mouth stretching to accommodate the insistent push. Half of my shaft disappeared past her lips, pressing into the tight heat of her mouth. Her eyes shot up to meet mine, glassy and damp, her lips parting slightly wider as if surrendering to my rhythm. But barely a second had passed when her wide, bewildered eyes shot open. Charybdis had leaned in from the side, her fingers curling around Astynome''s flushed cheeks, pulling her in close. Before Astynome could even process what was happening, Charybdis''s lips sealed over hers, a deep, claiming kiss that left no room for protest. Astynome''s muffled gasp filled the space between them, her hands twitching in surprise, completely taken aback. "Sluuuurp!!" Charybdis moved her mouth with languid expertise, coaxing Astynome''s lips open wider, her tongue slipping inside with an unmistakable confidence. It was a dance, slow and wickedly deliberate, as if she were savoring every inch of Astynome''s mouth. She pressed deeper, stealing the traces of my semen from her, flicking her tongue to catch every hint of me that lingered. And then, shockingly, Charybdis began pushing it back¡ªpressing my release further down Astynome''s throat with a possessive fervor, not allowing a single drop to escape. "Hmmnfff??~~~~" Astynome, still dizzy, whimpered in that close, intimate grip, her pupils dilated, as if Charybdis''s every advance tethered her senses into some dazed helplessness. I could see her body slackening, the last of her resistance fading as she submitted to Charybdis''s lead. I watched, utterly captivated, as Charybdis and Astynome shared an intimate moment. Their lips moved together, exchanging both their passion and the traces of my essence, with Charybdis taking the lead in this forbidden dance. A silken strand slipped between them, tracing a path that glistened as it caught the light. A few drops lingered, slipping slowly from the corners of their lips. One bead traced the curve of Astynome''s chin before falling delicately onto her breasts, where her collarbone and skin met just above her partially exposed breasts. Meanwhile, a single drop slipped down from Charybdis''s chin, leaving a faint trail down the front of her blue dress, the dark fabric catching hints of white as it absorbed the mark. The colors contrasted so vividly, giving the moment an oddly powerful elegance. My gaze traveled over their faces and lingered on their lips, which had once sucked eagerly to mine but were now locked in a newfound intimacy with each others. The sight stirred something deep within me, and I could feel my dick hardening again. With a final, sensual pull, Charybdis broke the kiss, a thin string of saliva lingering between them before falling. "Haaaa~~~" Astynome, her mouth swollen and dazed, struggled to catch her breath, her tongue sliding across her lips, which were now flushed with a deeper shade of pink. Charybdis leaned back, as she lifted a finger to catch the final remnants, savoring the taste with a casual flick of her tongue. "Don''t waste a drop," she said seriously. No yuri dont worry Juan_Tenorio Chapter 223 Eating Astynome * 223 Eating Astynome * Astynome, her mouth swollen and dazed, struggled to catch her breath, her tongue sliding across her lips, which were now flushed with a deeper shade of pink. Charybdis leaned back, as she lifted a finger to catch the final remnants, savoring the taste with a casual flick of her tongue. No?v(el)B\\jnn "Don''t waste a drop," she said seriously. Astynome stood there, still looking dazed and uncertain as she glanced over at Charybdis, her brow furrowing with lingering confusion. She swallowed hard, wiping her lips with a trembling hand. The moment was charged, her expression a mix of innocence and uncertainty, framed by the faint blush spreading over her cheeks. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. The scene between the two of them had been... intoxicating, leaving me spellbound. I could no longer hold back the desire rising in me. I reached for her, pulling her close until her body rested gently against mine. Her warmth was palpable, and her eyes lifted to mine, glistening with a blend of anticipation and timid excitement. "You''ve hinted at this before, Astynome, to be fucked by me" I murmured, my voice a low whisper. "Each time, I''ve held back. But now..." Leaning down, I brushed my lips along her cheek, tasting the hint of her pleasure with a soft lick that drew a shiver from her. "Now seems like the perfect moment." "Hmm!" Astynome gasped softly, her shoulders trembling as she felt the delicate touch. She hesitated, and then, after a pause filled with a silent exchange of trust, nodded, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She agreed. A smirk crossed my lips, and with a shared glance, the three of us slipped away from the festivities. The timing was perfect¡ªno one noticed as we stole away from the crowded hall, leaving behind the laughter and clinking of goblets. I had only come to the feast at Aeneas''s insistence, and with the evening winding down, it was time I claimed a reward of my own. We moved quickly through the corridors, and when we reached the dimly lit sanctuary of my quarters, I took a moment to glance around. A few guards stationed along the hall watched us curiously, but no one raised an alarm. Perhaps, if they had caught a glimpse of Astynome''s flushed face, they might have wondered more. But it was too late now. Once inside, I closed the door behind us, shutting out the world beyond. Charybdis, with a gentle but firm grip on Astynome''s arm, led her to the edge of the bed, seating her with surprising care. Unlike Medea or Scylla, whose fiery spirits might have stirred up trouble, Charybdis possessed a softer touch. Astynome''s innocence would remain unthreatened by any jealousy or rivalry here tonight. Astynome glanced down, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. "I... I don''t know about this..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her gaze flickered shyly to the floor. I offered her a reassuring smile. "I understand. You''re a priestess, untouched by any man. This is unfamiliar territory for you." I reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "But tonight... tonight, you belong here." The thought of Agamemnon brooding over this would be delicious. He could rage all he wanted, but he would be powerless to stop what was about to unfold. I knelt before her, and her breathing grew shallower, each breath mingling with the soft rustle of her robes. Gently, I placed my hands on her knees, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. Her legs, unscarred by battle and untainted by the bloodshed she had witnessed from afar, were smooth beneath my touch. Astynome truly was divine¡ªa goddess''s blood flowing through her veins, unspoiled by the harshness of the world. Her eyes locked onto mine, wide and unguarded, her vulnerability and purity shining through. In that moment, I knew she was ready. I lifted her dress, each fold revealing more of her toned thighs until the soft curve between her legs was bare, just a hint of lace veiling her secrets. The sight was mesmerizing¡ªher white panties clung to her, damp and betraying her arousal, a delicate barrier between me and that untouched innocence. She''d been indulging in me so willingly, her lips around me until my cock was wet with her devotion, it was no surprise her own need was simmering just beneath the surface, soaking through the fabric. With a swift, satisfying tear, the lace came away in my hands, and there it was¡ªher untouched pussy, glistening, untainted by any other touch. The years had preserved her, the smooth skin and gentle swell all but begging for exploration. Without hesitation, I leaned down, inhaling her heady scent, feeling my pulse quicken as her wetness glistened, inviting me in. 19:54 "HAAAAAAAN??!!!Her body buckled as a climax stole through her, so sudden and intense it left her dazed, eyes half-lidded, incoherent whispers spilling from her lips. Her hips trembled, thighs taut, pressing together in a futile effort to shield herself from the unyielding waves of sensation. Her eyes fluttered, glassy, fixed somewhere beyond, lost in the haze of her release. Withdrawing, I watched, my dick glistening, smeared with her essence, slick with her surrender and something more, a darker stain painting the sheets beneath us. Her form lay there, languid, broken yet somehow serene, the lines of her face softened with exhaustion. I wiped myself clean, my gaze shifting to the other figure in the room. Charybdis met my stare, her dark eyes wide, filled with a hunger that she could barely contain. Her cheeks flushed, hands clenched in anticipation. I reached for her, and with a slow pull, brought her around, fingers curling around the fabric of her dress and lifting it higher, revealing the supple curves of her backside. My palm slid across the smooth surface of her skin, fingers sinking into her soft flesh. "Ahhh??..." she breathed, her voice shivering with restrained excitement, her body arching back against my touch, hips grinding against my hold. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as I leaned close, breath hot against the curve of her ear. "Sorry for the delay, Charybdis," I murmured, letting my tongue graze her earlobe, savoring the shiver that rippled through her. The fabric slipped down her shoulders, and I let it fall away entirely, revealing her bare, waiting form, every inch of her practically vibrating in anticipation. With a single motion, I aligned myself with her pussy, inviting heat, feeling her readiness against me, the warmth, the anticipation practically drawing me in. She whimpered as I pushed forward, her hips pressing back eagerly, her body swallowing me whole. Her moan turned into a lustful cry, her hands clutching the sheets as I began to move, hips snapping forward, faster, each thrust coaxing her cries to higher, more desperate notes. "Haaah??! Yes! Yesss...!" she gasped, voice breathless and raw, her body rolling in rhythm to meet my every motion. Her head fell back against my shoulder, mouth open in wordless gasps as I reached around, seizing her breasts, kneading them, feeling the supple weight in my hands. Her skin flushed under my touch, warmth blooming wherever my fingers roamed, claiming her. With a low growl, I slid the straps of her dress off entirely, exposing her fully, her chest heaving, nipples taut, as my hands molded against her, my thrusts driving her forward. She was lost in the pleasure, her cries breaking into breathless pants as I quickened, feeling her tremble in my arms. "Ohhh... so... good..." she mumbled, voice melting into a low, drawn-out moan as I filled her completely, my hands firm, possessive against her as we moved together in perfect, carnal rhythm. With a swift motion, I spun Charybdis around, pressing her forward until her hands braced against the cool, unforgiving surface of the wall. Her breaths were heavy, chest rising and falling with the anticipation that pulsed between us, her back arching, presenting herself fully, waiting, hungry. Her skin gleamed in the dim light, every curve an invitation. I took my place behind her, gripping her hips with a possessive firmness, feeling her body shiver under my touch. The tip of my cock teased her entrance, sliding against her slickness, drawing a gasping moan from her parted lips. She pushed back, urging me on, her hips rolling with an impatience that brought a smirk to my face. With one deep thrust, I buried myself inside her, and her body clenched tight around me, a throaty, primal moan ripping from her lips as I filled her. Her head fell forward, forehead pressing to the wall, lost in the sensation as I began to move, slow at first, savoring the way her body gripped and yielded to me. "Ahhhh??! Y-yes... oh... yes!" Charybdis'' voice trembled, her words dissolving into shameless cries with each thrust, her back arching deeper, pressing herself harder against me, desperate to feel every inch. Her moans grew louder, echoing off the walls, raw and unrestrained, each sound spurring me to thrust harder, faster, driving her hips into the wall with every snap of my own. My hands roamed her body, sliding up the curve of her back, fingertips tracing along her spine, before returning to her waist, gripping her firmly as I pounded into her. Her nails scratched against the wall, a desperate attempt to ground herself against the onslaught of pleasure. She whimpered, hips pressing back, matching my rhythm with a needy fervor, her cries breaking into breathless pleas. "Harder! Please, Samael... more... don''t stop...!" she gasped, her voice thick with lust, every word trembling on the edge of a moan. I obliged, my pace relentless, the force of each thrust pressing her forward, her body pinned between the wall and my unyielding grip. The next thirty minutes became a symphony of skin against skin, her cries bouncing off the walls, filling every corner of the room with their raw intensity. I kept her bent forward, one hand fisted in her hair, pulling her back against me, while the other roamed her body¡ªgripping her waist, traveling up her spine, pressing into the curve of her hip to guide her as I drove deeper with every thrust. Chapter 224 Agamemnons angry 224 Agamemnon''s angry The atmosphere in the Greek camp was tense, a far cry from the elation they''d felt after the fall of Lyrnessus. Despite their recent conquest, the Greeks were now faced with a challenge far greater than any they had anticipated¡ªTroy. This was no ordinary city; it was a formidable stronghold, a fortress whose walls and defenses seemed almost invincible. The Greeks hadn''t even managed to reach the outer walls, repelled time and again by Troy''s powerful army, whose discipline and resilience had surprised even the most seasoned Greek commanders. The Greeks had gravely underestimated the Trojans¡ªnot just their physical strength, but also their unwavering spirit and resilience. Even as the Greeks cut off neighboring Trojan towns, isolating Troy, the city stood defiant, its high walls casting long shadows over the Greek encampments below. Each passing day tested the Greeks'' resolve, and as the siege dragged into its third month, their initial fervor began to wane. Victories came only in minor skirmishes, while the main siege saw little to no progress. To make matters worse, the Greeks were demoralized by the exploits of Hector, Troy''s greatest champion. In every clash, Hector seemed unstoppable, cutting through the Greek lines with a terrifying ferocity that sent chills through even the bravest warriors. His strength and tactical prowess made him a force on the battlefield, and his presence alone left the Greeks wary of engaging too closely. Whispers spread among the soldiers; some even admitted to fearing Hector more than the walls of Troy itself. Each defeat at his hands cast a growing shadow over the camp, and slowly, despair crept in. Meanwhile, Agamemnon, their leader and King of Kings, had sunk into a dark and brooding mood, clouded by a string of recent losses that felt as personal as they were strategic. It had all begun with the dreadful sacrifice of his daughter, Iphigenia, to appease the gods for a favorable journey to Troy. While the decision had left him tormented, he''d tried to focus on the war, finding a temporary distraction in the beauty of Astynome, a priestess of Apollo and a prize he had seized with triumph. She was stunning, a symbol of his conquest, and he had relished the thought of claiming her fully. But just as he was on the verge of enjoying his reward, Astynome was snatched from under his nose by a brazen intruder, an audacious act that left him seething. The insult was worsened by a calamity that struck the very same day¡ªa prized ship, loaded with weapons meant to reinforce his troops, was set ablaze and sunk to the ocean''s depths. The fire lit up the night sky, and Agamemnon could do nothing but watch as flames consumed the vessel and its precious cargo. It was the worst night Agamemnon had ever known. It had started with the humiliation of being cursed publicly by Astynome''s father, who had vowed that Agamemnon would meet a vile and bitter humiliating end. Then came Astynome''s disappearance, and finally, the devastating destruction of his ship. 19:56 It was the worst night Agamemnon had ever known. It had started with the humiliation of being cursed publicly by Astynome''s father, who had vowed that Agamemnon would meet a vile and bitter humiliating end. Then came Astynome''s disappearance, and finally, the devastating destruction of his ship. Agamemnon''s gloom was contagious, casting a shadow over the Greek camp that only deepened with each passing day. His soldiers, once fiercely determined, now sensed their king''s lack of enthusiasm, and it was wearing on them. Though Agamemnon was far from depressed, the loss of his prize had dimmed his spirits. Everyone else seemed to revel in small victories or moments of joy, but he, the King of Kings, felt only bitterness. How could his soldiers celebrate while he, the leader of all Greece, sat in this quiet misery? Odysseus and Nestor stared at him in stunned silence, both their mouths slightly agape. "Briseis? Surely, you don''t mean the queen of¡ª" "The woman who was meant to be Queen of Lyrnessus, yes," Agamemnon replied, his tone unyielding. "I want her to replace what was stolen from me. Bring her to me." He nodded at Nestor, then leaned back in his chair, the flicker of power back in his gaze as he settled into his role as king, unshakable and imperious. But Odysseus''s face paled. "King Agamemnon... Briseis is with Achilles. She is his reward," he reminded gently, hoping Agamemnon had merely overlooked this. But Agamemnon''s face remained resolute, unyielding in the face of his advisor''s concern. "Bring her to me, and I will march with my armies against Troy with every ounce of strength I possess. You have my word," Agamemnon said, each syllable ringing with finality. His gaze bore into Odysseus, making it clear that further objections would be futile. Odysseus struggled to hide his dread. The request would undoubtedly provoke Achilles, a man known for his fiery temper and fierce pride. Achilles would not take such a demand lightly. If Agamemnon persisted, he might ignite a conflict more dangerous than any they faced outside Troy''s walls. But Agamemnon''s mind was set. Odysseus looked at Nestor for help but the latter shook his head again. He had tried to convince all this time Agamemnon but for the first time he reacted and asked for something which was a good sign but also the only solution to their predicament. Of course if a choice had to be made between Achilles or Agamemnon the answer would be obviously the one leading all the armies, Agamemnon... Chapter 225 Thetis 225 Thetis In Achilles''s tent, the atmosphere was starkly different from the tense and brooding mood in Agamemnon''s quarters. Here, a peculiar sense of calm prevailed, even an air of contentment, as if the weight of the ongoing Trojan War had no place within these canvas walls. It wasn''t just peaceful¡ªit was almost too good, a haven insulated from the struggles that gripped the battlefield. Though the Greeks faltered in their campaign against the Trojans, Khillea seemed utterly indifferent. Her strikingly confident demeanor reflected someone who knew her own worth. If she truly desired, she could shift the tide of battle with ease. Hector of Troy, revered as the mightiest defender of the city, might prove a challenge for others, but Khillea believed herself capable of defeating him. Yet, she chose to remain in the shadows for now, leaving the glory and struggles to the kings and generals clamoring for recognition. She was waiting, not out of fear or doubt, but with purpose. Her mother, Thetis, had foreseen her fate. If Khillea claimed the spotlight and led the Greeks to victory, she would become a living legend¡ªadmired, immortalized in stories, and forever etched in history. But such glory came at a steep cost: her life would be forfeit shortly after. To die young and legendary, or to live longer in obscurity¡ªthis was the choice Thetis had laid bare. Khillea, ever proud and calculating, was patient. She would seize the perfect moment to emerge, ensuring her name echoed through eternity. But until that moment arrived, she intended to savor what time she had left, enjoying life on her terms. At the moment, this enjoyment took the form of music. Khillea sat on the edge of her simple bed, a lyre resting in her lap. Her crimson hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, glinted like fire in the soft light of the tent. Dressed in masculine garb¡ªpractical yet stylish¡ªshe cut a figure of relaxed confidence. As her fingers danced across the strings of the lyre, a melody resonated through the air, clear and beautiful. The music didn''t just stay confined to the tent; it spilled outside, a serene contrast to the clamor of war preparations. Briseis, her only companion in the tent, had grown accustomed to this sight. Over the past two months, she had transitioned from captive to servant, but Khillea''s treatment of her was anything but harsh. In fact, Briseis had begun to feel at ease in her presence, a rare comfort amidst the chaos of war. Khillea never belittled or mistreated her; instead, she seemed to relish their conversations, as if Briseis provided something unique: the chance to speak with another woman freely, without pretenses or barriers. Briseis sat nearby, her own lyre in hand, though her attempts to play it were clumsy at best. She watched Khillea''s fluid movements with a mixture of awe and resignation, smiling softly. "You''re incredible at this," Briseis said, her tone warm but tinged with a hint of envy. Khillea''s lips curled into a smirk, her gold eyes sparkling with quiet pride. "It''s just practice," she replied lightly, her fingers never pausing on the strings. But Briseis knew better. It wasn''t just practice; it was Khillea herself¡ªa woman of boundless talent and charisma, whose every action seemed to embody effortless mastery. As the music continued to flow, Briseis found herself relaxing, momentarily forgetting the war outside and the precariousness of their situation. At that moment, the tent''s entrance flung open, letting in a gust of warm air and a figure Khillea and Briseis both recognized instantly. It was Patroclus. His casual stride reflected his comfort in the space, his familiarity with its occupants evident in the easy smile tugging at his lips. He had grown accustomed to seeing Khillea and Briseis together¡ªtwo unlikely companions finding solace in each other''s company. Truthfully, he was glad for it. For the longest time, Patroclus had been the sole confidant in his cousin''s life, the one she turned to when loneliness pressed too hard on her. He had witnessed the rare cracks in her otherwise invincible fac?ade, the moments when even someone as resilient as Khillea longed for meaningful companionship. Khillea, still holding onto her mother, seemed to pay no mind to Briseis''s reaction. For her, this moment was deeply personal, a reunion she had longed for. Thetis stroked her daughter''s hair gently, her expression a mixture of pride and sorrow, as though she knew this embrace was both a comfort and a reminder of the fate that loomed over them. "Come, my child," Thetis said softly, her gaze flickering to Patroclus and Briseis briefly before returning to Khillea. "We have much to discuss." Khillea nodded and reluctantly pulled back, though her hand lingered on her mother''s arm for a moment longer. The warmth and comfort of Thetis''s presence felt too fleeting, and she was reluctant to let go entirely. Thetis''s attention turned toward Briseis, her gaze softening. "Oh, you must be Briseis," she said with a gentle smile that seemed to light up the entire tent. "Patroclus has told me so much about you. I must thank you for being here for my daughter. She''s always longed for a girlfriend she could truly speak to, someone who understands her." Briseis flushed, her face turning a deep shade of red. The glow of Thetis''s divine presence made the compliment feel even more overwhelming. She bowed her head slightly, her voice trembling with humility. "I... I didn''t do anything, really. It''s Khillea who''s helped me more than I can ever repay." Khillea waved off the praise with a huff, clearly embarrassed. "Don''t say nonsense, Mother!" she grumbled, crossing her arms. Despite her tone, a small smile tugged at her lips, betraying how much the sentiment meant to her. "But... yeah, I guess I''ve always wanted a girl I could actually talk to." Thetis laughed softly, a melodic sound that seemed to momentarily banish all worries from the tent. Seeing her daughter in such high spirits brought a warmth to her heart. For a brief moment, it was easy to imagine that everything was as it should be, that there was no war raging outside, and that Khillea''s fate wasn''t etched in stone. But the illusion didn''t last long. Thetis''s smile faltered, her eyes clouding with sorrow as an unspoken thought took root in her mind. If only her daughter could always be this happy. If only she didn''t have to die in the end... Her gaze darkened, the weight of inevitability pressing heavily upon her. She clenched her hands slightly, her nails digging into her palms as the bitterness of prophecy reared its head. Then, suddenly, her focus shifted. Thetis''s divine senses sharpened, her attention drawn inexplicably to Khillea. More specifically, her gaze fell upon her daughter''s abdomen, as if something there demanded her immediate attention. Her eyes widened in shock, and she took an involuntary step closer, her hand flying to her mouth. "I... Impossible!!" Chapter 226 Khillea is pregnant! 226 Khillea is pregnant! Then, suddenly, her focus shifted. Thetis''s divine senses sharpened, her attention drawn inexplicably to Khillea. More specifically, her gaze fell upon her daughter''s abdomen, as if something there demanded her immediate attention. Her eyes widened in shock, and she took an involuntary step closer, her hand flying to her mouth. "I... Impossible!!" Khillea''s brows furrowed as she observed the unusual expression on her mother''s face. It was a rare sight¡ªThetis, the steadfast, unshakable sea goddess, looking truly unsettled. "Mother, what is it?" Khillea asked, her voice steady but tinged with concern. Thetis stepped closer without answering, her gaze softening as she raised a hand to her daughter''s stomach. The cool touch of her palm rested there briefly before her eyes fluttered shut. A serene silence fell between them, broken only by the faint whisper of the wind outside. Seconds passed, each feeling stretched and heavy with unspoken anticipation. When Thetis opened her eyes, they were wide with disbelief. "Khillea..." her voice quivered, laden with an emotion she rarely allowed herself to show. Khillea tilted her head, confusion deepening. "Yes, Mother?" Thetis hesitated, her lips parting as though the words themselves were too impossible to utter. Finally, she said, "You are... pregnant." The revelation struck Khillea like lightning. Her body stiffened as her mind faltered, grasping for comprehension. "What?" she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible as the world seemed to tilt around her. Patroclus, standing nearby, froze mid-step. His expression mirrored hers¡ªstunned, disbelieving, and overwhelmed. "How... how can that be, Mother?" he asked, his voice low yet urgent. To Thetis, Patroclus was like a son. She had raised him alongside Khillea, binding their fates so closely that they often felt more like siblings than cousins. His distress mirrored her own. "I don''t know," Thetis admitted, shaking her head as if trying to dispel the impossibility of it all. "It shouldn''t be possible." She paused, her gaze distant as she delved into memories. "Gaia herself foretold it. The best seers have always agreed¡ªif Khillea were to set foot on Trojan soil, she would achieve great glory. But she would die there... and without bearing children. It was inevitable, or so I thought." Her voice grew softer, almost a whisper. "Every vision confirmed it. Even the gods I consulted were certain." Her hand slipped away from Khillea''s stomach as she took a step back, grappling with a truth that defied divine foresight. "I am... pregnant," Khillea murmured, her words unsteady as she tried to process them. Her hand slowly rose to her abdomen, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the fabric of her tunic. She felt no difference, yet her heart knew the truth. Tears began to pool in her eyes, spilling over before she could fully understand why. Confusion flickered across her face, a contradiction of emotions¡ªshock, disbelief, and something deeper, something warm and achingly fragile. Her lips quivered as they curved into a smile. It was small at first, hesitant, but it grew, radiant and genuine, illuminating her features with a rare softness. She glanced at her mother, her tears glistening like dew in the morning sun. "I... I''m going to have a baby. Is that true, Mother?" Thetis''s breath hitched. For a moment, she saw not the hardened warrior her daughter had become, but the girl she had raised, the one who had always dreamed of a future she believed was forever out of reach. "Yes," Thetis whispered, her own eyes glistening. She reached out to cradle Khillea''s face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Yes, my child. You are going to have a baby." Khillea let out a shaky laugh, her hand never leaving her stomach. A tender joy began to unfurl within her, soft and unfamiliar. Thetis watched her daughter, her heart swelling with affection and bittersweet pride. She had always known what Khillea had sacrificed to come to Troy. To see her now, with tears of joy streaming down her face, was nothing short of a miracle. She didn''t understand how this had come to pass. Perhaps it was the work of the Fates, weaving a thread of kindness into Khillea''s tragic destiny. Perhaps the gods, moved by her daughter''s courage and suffering, had granted her this gift. Whatever the reason, Thetis didn''t care. It was a miracle¡ªa fleeting, precious blessing in the shadow of inevitable loss. She would cherish it for as long as the gods allowed. It was as if a storm had descended upon the Greek encampment. The soldiers standing behind the assembled kings recoiled, many gripping their weapons tightly or falling to their knees, unable to withstand the suffocating aura of rage. Even the Greek leaders themselves¡ªOdysseus, Menelaus, Ajax, Diomedes, and Heracles¡ªfelt the oppressive weight, though they managed to remain standing. Odysseus pressed on, his voice strained under the pressure. "It''s Agamemnon''s condition to continue the war," he explained, forcing the words out. "He claims he deserves a new prize after his own was taken¡ª" "I don''t care what he deserves," Khillea spat, her voice sharp as a blade. Her eyes burned with fury as she stepped forward, her hand dangerously close to the hilt of her sword. "I''ve done a hundred times more for this army than he has, and I haven''t even given my all. Briseis is mine." "Achilles," Odysseus implored, his tone softer now, almost pleading. "If you don''t give Briseis to him, Agamemnon will refuse to lead the army. Without him, we''ll lose the Greeks'' morale. We''ll have no choice but to retreat, and we both know the seas are unforgiving. To return as failures... the gods will never forgive us." Khillea''s expression darkened further. "The gods?" she echoed, her voice dripping with disdain. "This war was Agamemnon''s doing. His arrogance lit the spark. And now he dares to demand more from me?" Ajax stepped forward, his massive frame radiating authority. "It''s just a woman, Achilles," he said bluntly. "You''ll have your pick of the finest once we breach Troy." Khillea''s lip curled in disgust. "I said no." Diomedes frowned, his brow furrowing as he addressed her. "Are you truly willing to sacrifice the entire Greek campaign for a single Trojan woman? We''ve all agreed. This is bigger than you." Khillea clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She could scarcely believe they had stooped to this¡ªmanipulating her with the fate of the Greeks. Then, Agamemnon himself stepped forward, his gaze cold and unfeeling. His voice cut through the tense air like a knife. "You should listen to them, Achilles. Give her up." That was the breaking point. "You!" Khillea roared, her hand darting to her sword, her intent unmistakable¡ªto end this insult of a king once and for all. But before her blade could leave its sheath, she felt an invisible force grasp her hand. Her entire body tensed, and her eyes darted to the side. No one else could see her, but Khillea knew exactly who it was. Athena. Her voice didn''t come in words but in an overwhelming sense of presence, a calming weight against Khillea''s fury. The goddess who had silently supported her through countless battles now demanded restraint. Khillea''s hand trembled as her mind waged war against itself. Her lips tightened until she could taste blood, but slowly, she released the hilt of her sword. She turned her gaze back to Agamemnon, her eyes blazing with unspoken defiance. "If you take Briseis," she said, her voice unwavering and cold, "I will leave this war. I swear it on Zeus himself." Her declaration rippled through the camp like a thunderclap. The assembled Greeks froze, their faces etched with disbelief. Without Achilles, they would lose the Myrmidons¡ªthe most fearsome soldiers in the war. Agamemnon, however, remained unmoved. He met her gaze with icy arrogance and spoke a single word. "Take her." A soldier stepped forward, striding toward Briseis. She recoiled in fear, her eyes darting desperately to Khillea and Patroclus. But neither moved. Patroclus stood rigid, his face a mask of anguish, while Khillea glared daggers at Agamemnon, her body trembling with barely restrained rage. The soldier grasped Briseis''s arm, pulling her roughly away. She thrashed, her voice trembling as she cried, "Leave me! Let me go!" But her struggles were futile. Khillea stood motionless, her fists clenched, her heart pounding with the fury she could no longer unleash. As Briseis''s cries faded into the distance, she turned on her heel and stalked back into her tent. Patroclus followed silently, his face pale. That day, Khillea¡ªAchilles¡ªabandoned the Trojan War. Chapter 227 Seeing Courtney after a year.... 227 Seeing Courtney after a year.... The absence of Achilles and his Myrmidons from the battlefield had initially gone unnoticed by both sides. For the first few days, the Trojans assumed the formidable warriors were taking a much-deserved respite. After all, even though Achilles himself rarely engaged directly in the fray, his army¡ªled by the stalwart Patroclus¡ªhad been wreaking havoc upon Trojan forces. Their relentless precision and sheer brutality had set them apart, tallying more kills than any other Greek contingent. But as a week passed and the battlefield remained devoid of the Myrmidons'' presence, rumors began to swirl. Whispers reached Trojan ears: Achilles had withdrawn entirely from the war. It seemed the storied Trojan War, the clash that had drawn armies and heroes from across the Aegean, had lost its most formidable warrior. The reason was clear: the feud between Achilles and Agamemnon had spilled beyond the Greek camp. Agamemnon, still seething over his loss of Astynome¡ªwhom he''d been forced to return¡ªhad demanded Briseis, Achilles'' prize of war, as recompense. Furious at the insult, Achilles had grudgingly complied but cursed Agamemnon in his rage. As punishment, he had withdrawn his forces from the conflict entirely, leaving the Greeks to fend for themselves. For the Trojans, this was the best news they''d received since the war began. The morale boost was palpable. Having suffered the ferocity of the Myrmidons firsthand, the Trojans now found their Greek adversaries lacking by comparison. Emboldened, they pressed the attack harder than ever before, their confidence swelling with each skirmish. Yet even without Achilles, the Greeks were far from toothless. The other kings¡ªOdysseus, Menelaus, Diomedes, and Agamemnon himself¡ªremained steadfast. Recognizing their precarious position, they resolved to take the offensive, aiming to cripple the Trojans before their newfound momentum became unstoppable. Agamemnon, in particular, burned with fury. His anger at the loss of Astynome and his quarrel with Achilles now fueled an insatiable desire for vengeance. He longed to face the Trojan warrior who had dared to challenge him. In the Myrmidons'' absence, another force began to rise from obscurity: the Heroes of the Empire of Light. Initially dismissed by the Greeks as mere children, they were quickly proving their worth. Their skill and power on the battlefield were undeniable, and their presence reinvigorated the flagging Greek morale. Even the Trojans, who had grown bolder, found themselves facing a new challenge. Among these heroes, one stood out, Aidan and eventually, his path brought him to the most feared of Trojan champions: Hector, Prince of Troy. Aidan approached with a swagger, his massive sword resting on his shoulder, a devilish grin curling his lips. "Today," he announced, pointing his blade toward Hector, "I''m taking that head of yours. They talk far too much about you, and I''ll prove you''re nothing but a myth." Nathan stood silently beside Hector, his gaze devoid of emotion as he stared at Aidan. There was no mistaking the disdain simmering beneath his calm exterior. He hated Aidan¡ªnot just for the bullying he had endured at the hands of the so-called Hero of Light, but for the sheer audacity of Aidan''s arrogance now that he''d risen to prominence. Yet, for all his hatred, Nathan felt nothing stirring within him at the sight of Aidan. No anger, no rush of vengeance¡ªonly a cold indifference. If Aidan sought death, Nathan wouldn''t refuse to grant it. But for now, he let the moment play out. After all, Aidan had no chance of defeating Hector. There was no need to intervene. Hector, however, seemed hesitant as he studied Aidan. The boy didn''t look like a seasoned warrior. He had a youthful, almost naive air about him, as if he were a child playing at war. Hector''s lips tightened, and his voice carried the weight of patience, tinged with a hint of pity. 16:19 Siara''s gaze hardened, her eyes turning icy. She clenched her fists, but the futility of the situation was clear. She was no match for Nathan. Siara hesitated, torn between fleeing and staying to watch Aidan''s impending doom. Hector was a force unlike any other; there was no way Aidan could survive against him. But did she even care? Aidan''s arrogance was bound to lead him to an early grave, and she felt no obligation to save him. Just as she wavered, a sudden roar of flame erupted across the battlefield, slicing toward Nathan. He leaped back, narrowly avoiding the searing heat, but the fire''s impact left scorched earth and several charred Trojan soldiers in its wake. This was no ordinary fire¡ªit was intense, almost vicious, with a ferocity that was all too familiar to Nathan. Yet something had changed. This fire carried a deadly resolve, unlike anything he''d sensed before. As the flames receded, they revealed a stunning figure¡ªa woman of striking beauty, her chestnut hair streaked with vibrant shades of red, flickering like embers. She wore an intricate dress of red armor that fit her like a second skin, amplifying her regal yet fierce presence. Her once-naive eyes were now sharp and unyielding, glinting like the heart of a raging fire. Nathan masked his surprise. Courtney. She was ten times more beautiful than he remembered from a year ago, her aura transformed, hardened, and undeniably dangerous. "Get back, Siara," Courtney commanded, her tone like steel as she fixed her gaze on Nathan, who she didn''t seem to recognize. "Courtney! No, he''s dangerous! He beat Gwen!" Siara''s voice trembled as she frantically tried to warn her. "I know," Courtney replied, her tone as icy as her glare. She''d seen Nathan''s strength with her own eyes¡ªshe''d witnessed how he''d sent Jason flying with a single blow. Yet she wouldn''t let Siara, someone she now considered dear to her, be harmed. She knew Nathan cared for Siara, and in that bond, Courtney had grown close to her as well. With a fluid, decisive motion, Courtney raised her arm, summoning flames that crackled with a fearsome energy. "Seventh-rank fire magic!" she intoned, releasing a fierce beam of fire that blazed toward Nathan, intent on consuming him in its fiery path. Nathan reacted swiftly, swinging his sword with precision, conjuring an immense wall of ice to intercept the flames. The heat clashed against the barrier with an explosive hiss, but his ice held firm, repelling the flames with an unexpected strength. Courtney''s eyes widened slightly; she''d faced ice-wielders before, but none of their defenses had withstood her fire like this. Her magic was powerful, yet his ice seemed almost... unbreakable. Nathan raised his left hand, conjuring several razor-sharp swords of ice, sending them hurtling toward her. Courtney twisted mid-air, narrowly dodging the projectiles. The cold clash of ice against her flames had left the ground steaming, yet she remained poised. In a flash, Nathan vanished, only to reappear directly in front of her, his hand reaching out with deadly intent. Courtney reacted instantly, sweeping her arm in a wide arc and engulfing Nathan in a gust of fire. She clenched her fist, intensifying the flames, aiming to reduce him to ashes. But to her shock, Nathan emerged unscathed, cutting through the inferno with an icy calm, his hand reaching for her once more. She sprang back, her reflexes razor-sharp, evading his grasp by a hair''s breadth. The distance between them felt electric, tense. Courtney steadied her breath, her gaze more serious, more resolute. She knew she was up against a strong adversary¡ªone whose power seemed to be much stronger than hers. As she landed, her gaze met Nathan''s, and a strange feeling churned in her chest. There was something about the way he reached out to her... something that made her feel uneasy, a faint, unshakable discomfort that lingered like a ghostly whisper in the back of her mind. Chapter 228 Finally facing Ajax! 228 Finally facing Ajax! The distance between them felt electric, tense. Courtney steadied her breath, her gaze more serious, more resolute. She knew she was up against a strong adversary¡ªone whose power seemed to be much stronger than hers. As she landed, her gaze met Nathan''s, and a strange feeling churned in her chest. There was something about the way he reached out to her... something that made her feel uneasy, a faint, unshakable discomfort that lingered like a ghostly whisper in the back of her mind. "Courtney! You can''t beat him! Let''s retreat!" Siara''s voice rang out, laced with desperation and worry. Her trembling hands clenched tightly around the weapon she held, her wide eyes darting between the battlefield and Courtney''s figure. The memory of Gwen''s defeat was still fresh. But Courtney didn''t acknowledge her. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, resolute and unshaken, as if Siara''s pleas were mere whispers carried off by the wind. "Eighth Rank Fire Magic," Courtney muttered, her tone low but steady, filled with an unrelenting determination. She raised her hand, and a searing wave of mana exploded outward like an unleashed storm. The earth beneath them trembled, cracks spider-webbing across the scorched ground as flames erupted from the fissures. The air grew stifling, the weight of her power suffocating to those nearby. Every fight around her ceased as heads turned toward the source of the overwhelming pressure. Warriors and enemies alike froze, their faces a mixture of awe and dread. Nathan, standing on the opposite side of the battlefield, felt a flicker of surprise ripple through him. His pale eyes narrowed as he watched her, feeling the heat of her magic even from this distance. "Eighth Rank magic..." he mused, a rare smile touching his lips. "You''ve really come a long way, Courtney." A flood of memories washed over him¡ªmemories of the timid, cheerful girl he once knew. Aisha had told him about Courtney''s transformation after his disappearance. He understood that her change was born from pain, from the aftermath of his own suffering. Though he didn''t want to see her push herself to the brink, there was a bittersweet pride in seeing how strong, how fiercely independent she had become. In this world, naivety was a weakness¡ªa poison that could be fatal. Nathan knew that better than anyone. Even without being naive, he had barely clung to life in his most desperate moments. The air around Courtney shimmered as a colossal figure of flames roared into existence behind her. The creature, a towering fire elemental, radiated an intense heat that made the battlefield feel like an inferno. Its fiery gaze locked onto Nathan, its presence a declaration of Courtney''s resolve. Nathan watched, his expression unreadable, though there was a glimmer of admiration in his pale eyes. He had never seen her like this before, her features sharpened with an intensity he never imagined. She was beautiful in her defiance, her strength illuminating her like the flames she commanded. But it still wasn''t enough. Nathan raised his hand, his movements calm and measured, and the world seemed to shift. A chill unlike anything felt before descended upon the battlefield, spreading out in waves. The fiery glow of Courtney''s magic dimmed slightly as frost began to creep across the ground. Even Courtney shivered, her breath hitching as an icy sensation prickled her skin. Her lips parted in shock¡ªshe hadn''t expected to feel cold, not within the heart of her own flames. "Celestial Magic," Nathan intoned, his voice cutting through the chaos like the edge of a blade. Sensing the threat, Courtney didn''t hesitate. She thrust her hand forward, commanding her monstrous elemental to lunge at Nathan, its fiery form blazing with ferocious energy. But Nathan was faster. He lowered his hand. A deafening crack echoed across the battlefield as a wave of frost surged outward, meeting the fire elemental head-on. The clash sent a shockwave rippling through the air, but the outcome was clear within moments. The fire creature let out an otherworldly roar as its body froze, flames extinguished and encased in thick, crystalline ice. The frost spread rapidly, consuming everything in its path until it reached Courtney herself. "You''re the one who killed my stupid brother?" the towering figure growled, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the air itself. The man¡ªno, the beast¡ªwas unmistakable. Ajax the Great. Nathan tilted his head, taking in the sight of the man who loomed over him like a mountain. Ajax was massive, his muscular frame towering several heads above Nathan. His broad shoulders and bulging arms made Nathan look almost childlike in comparison. But size didn''t intimidate Nathan. Instead of answering Ajax''s question, Nathan''s lips curved into a slow, taunting smirk. His pale eyes gleamed with a cold fury, a deep hatred that had been festering for far too long. This was the moment he''d been waiting for. Since that cursed day when Ajax''s brother had dared to lay a hand on Aisha. No one touches his women. No one. Nathan''s fists clenched as the memory burned in his mind. Aisha''s expression when she was being forced. His hatred boiled over, his restrained anger finally spilling out. Today he will finally make him pay. Before he could make his move, a shout rang out from the chaos. "Heiron!" Nathan turned slightly to see Hector rushing toward him, his face pale with worry. The knight had clearly just finished his fight, his armor scuffed and dented, but his focus was entirely on Nathan. Trailing behind him, Nathan caught a glimpse of Aidan lying slumped on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. The fight between Aidan and Hector had been brutal, but it seemed Hector had come out on top which was obvious. Despite his injuries, Aidan was still breathing. Nathan noticed that some of his classmates were already dragging the unconscious boy away to safety. But Hector''s concern wasn''t for Aidan. It was for Nathan. "It''s Ajax the Great," Hector said, his voice low but urgent as he reached Nathan''s side. Hector''s brows knitted together, his usual calm demeanor overshadowed by a rare flicker of genuine concern. He had seen what Heiron was capable of over the past few months¡ªhis strength, his strategy, and abilities in the face of danger. But Ajax was a different beast altogether. The man wasn''t just a fighter; he was a legend on the battlefield, a mountain of brute force and unrelenting power. Hector couldn''t help but doubt whether even Heiron, formidable as he was, stood a chance against such an opponent. "I know what you''re thinking," Nathan said, his voice breaking through Hector''s thoughts. He took a step forward, his pale eyes meeting Hector''s gaze. His expression was serious¡ªmore serious than Hector had ever seen before. "Leave him to me. I''m asking you," Nathan continued, his tone steady and resolute. There was no hesitation in his voice, no trace of the casual confidence he often displayed. This was different. This was personal. Hector blinked, momentarily taken aback. Nathan rarely made requests, and when he did, they carried a weight that was impossible to ignore. As if sensing the lingering doubt in Hector''s mind, Nathan''s lips curled into a confident smirk, his icy demeanor softening just enough to show a flicker of assurance. "I''ll definitely win. Don''t worry." Chapter 229 Nathan vs Ajax the Great! (1) 229 Nathan vs Ajax the Great! (1) As if sensing the lingering doubt in Hector''s mind, Nathan''s lips curled into a confident smirk, his icy demeanor softening just enough to show a flicker of assurance. "I''ll definitely win. Don''t worry." There was something in that smirk¡ªa spark of unshakable belief that seemed to cut through the tension in the air. For a moment, Hector found himself caught between worry and trust, unsure which emotion to hold onto. Then, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Alright," Hector said, his voice steady now. "Beat him up." Nathan''s smirk widened, his icy aura intensifying as the mana around him began to stir. "Oh, I will," Nathan replied, his gaze shifting back to Ajax. The air between them seemed to crackle with anticipation, the battlefield growing silent as if the world itself was holding its breath. Ajax, still towering like a mountain, let out a low chuckle as he watched the exchange. "You''ve got guts, kid," he said, his voice a rumble of amusement mixed with menace. "But guts won''t be enough to save you." "This will be your last day, so try to enjoy it to the fullest," Nathan said with a snort, his words laced with mockery. Ajax''s expression darkened instantly, his narrowed eyes glinting with a deadly promise. His entire body erupted with an overwhelming surge of mana, its sheer force rippling through the air like a thunderstorm given form. The battlefield, once a chaotic symphony of clashing weapons and roars, fell eerily silent. Warriors from both sides instinctively retreated several meters, their gazes drawn to the confrontation like moths to a flame. This was no ordinary duel¡ªthey were about to witness a clash between titans. On one side stood Ajax, the towering warrior celebrated as the strongest Greek king next to Achilles and Agamemnon. His exploits were legendary, his strength feared by both ally and foe alike. On the other side was Nathan, Hector''s enigmatic bodyguard, whose calm demeanor and provoking words had ignited the fury of one of Greece''s greatest champions. Despite their loyalty to Hector, even the Trojans watching couldn''t help but feel trepidation. They knew the odds. Ajax''s victory seemed inevitable, a foregone conclusion written in the annals of their war. And yet, somewhere in the recesses of their minds, a flicker of hope lingered¡ªhope that Nathan could somehow defy reason and emerge victorious. Ajax wasted no time. Fueled by Nathan''s provocation, he moved like a tempest, his massive frame defying logic with its speed. His fist hurtled toward Nathan, a blur of raw power and precision. Nathan''s eyes sharpened, his body tensing as he prepared to react. He knew that one misstep could mean his death. Ajax wasn''t merely a warrior; he carried the blood of Zeus himself, a demigod whose strength bordered on the divine. BADAM! Nathan leaped high into the air, narrowly evading Ajax''s earth-shattering punch. Dust and debris erupted from the ground where Ajax''s fist had struck, the impact leaving a small crater in its wake. Using the momentum of his jump, Nathan twisted his body mid-air and delivered a swift, high kick aimed at Ajax''s temple. The attack connected, but it was met with the impenetrable defense of Ajax''s thick, muscular arm. The Greek king grinned fiercely, his teeth glinting like the edge of a blade. "Not bad!" Ajax roared, his voice booming across the battlefield like rolling thunder. Before Nathan could retract his leg, Ajax''s iron grip closed around it. A chilling sense of danger coursed through Nathan''s veins. He acted on instinct, summoning a surge of ice magic with a sharp gesture of his hand. A massive pillar of jagged ice erupted from the ground, shooting upward with incredible force and slamming into Ajax. The icy structure was a masterpiece of lethal beauty, its sharp edges glinting under the sunlight. For a brief moment, the spectators dared to hope that the attack had subdued Ajax. CRACK! The pillar shattered into a cascade of glittering shards as Ajax tore through it with his free hand, unscathed and unfazed. His other hand swung downward, slamming Nathan into the ground with bone-crushing force. Nathan''s left eye glowed, transforming into a menacing gold with a vertical slit in its center. The world seemed to slow down as his enhanced vision locked onto Ajax''s form. For a brief moment, Ajax faltered, his momentum slightly disrupted as he caught sight of the frightening transformation. But his hesitation was fleeting. In the next instant, Ajax resumed his assault, his speed still terrifyingly fast. Nathan crossed his arms in a defensive stance, channeling his mana to form a thick layer of icy armor over them. BADAM! Ajax''s punch collided with Nathan''s guard, the force so overwhelming that the icy armor shattered instantly, shards of frost scattering like glass. The impact sent Nathan hurtling through the air, his body spinning uncontrollably as pain seared through his arms. "Damn it!" Nathan cursed under his breath, his vision filled with the expanse of the sky as he flew. His body ached from the blow, but his mind screamed at him to stay alert. Suddenly, the bright sky darkened ominously, a massive shadow descending upon him. His blood ran cold as he looked up to see Ajax diving toward him like a meteor, his foot raised and poised to deliver a crushing blow. "Celestial Ice Magic: Barrier!" Nathan shouted, desperation fueling his magic. A shimmering barrier of ice materialized in front of him, glowing faintly with divine energy. BADAM! Ajax''s kick slammed into the barrier, and for a moment, it held. But the barrier cracked under the immense force, and in the next heartbeat, it shattered completely. Ajax''s foot struck Nathan''s waist, the residual force propelling him downward like a comet. CRASH! Nathan''s body smashed into the ground, creating a massive crater upon impact. Dust and debris billowed into the air, obscuring the battlefield for a moment. Groaning, Nathan forced himself to stand, his legs trembling under the weight of his injuries. Blood dripped from his mouth, and he raised a hand to wipe it away, only to cough violently, more blood splattering onto his palm. The pain was excruciating, but he steadied himself, glaring up at Ajax, who stood at the crater''s edge. Despite Apollo''s intervention, granting him more time to fight, it was evident that Nathan''s body was nearing its limit. Every muscle screamed in agony, his bones felt as if they might shatter with his next movement, and his breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. Yet, even as his body teetered on the edge of collapse, Nathan''s eyes didn''t lose their shine. This pain? It was nothing. Not compared to the torment he had endured in the past, the trials that had molded him into the warrior he was now. To Nathan, this agony was merely a whisper, a faint echo of the suffering he had weathered countless times before. "Do you want me to bless you?" Aphrodite asked again. Her tone carried a rare note of concern, a vulnerability that was almost disarming coming from the Goddess of Love. But his answer came swiftly, laced with defiance. "No." There wasn''t a shred of doubt in his tone. "I''ll kill this bastard without any blessing," he declared, his lips curling into a bloody smirk. His pale face, smeared with dirt and blood, exuded a twisted sort of confidence, a raw determination that sent chills down the spine of anyone who dared look into his eyes. Chapter 230 Nathan vs Ajax the Great! (2) 230 Nathan vs Ajax the Great! (2) "No." There wasn''t a shred of doubt in his tone. "I''ll kill this bastard without any blessing," he declared, his lips curling into a bloody smirk. His pale face, smeared with dirt and blood, exuded a twisted sort of confidence, a raw determination that sent chills down the spine of anyone who dared look into his eyes. It would mean nothing to defeat Ajax with the blessings of the gods. That hollow victory held no value for Nathan¡ªnot when this fight was deeply personal. Aisha''s memory burned in his chest, fueling his resolve. This wasn''t just about vengeance; it was about his pride as a man, as Aisha''s man. Nathan wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his lips, a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. "Magic and mana don''t work on you, I see," he murmured, his voice calm yet edged with an icy determination. Ajax loomed over him, grinning with cruel amusement. "Good, good! But what are you going to do now that you know? It doesn''t change anything!" With a flicker of movement, Ajax disappeared from sight, reappearing in an instant above Nathan. His massive fists clenched tight, muscles bulging as he prepared to bring them crashing down like a wrecking ball. From his vantage point, Ajax could already taste victory, a twisted smirk curling his lips. This was it¡ªthe blow that would end it. Nathan''s golden, slit-pupiled eye glowed ominously as he tracked Ajax''s movements with supernatural precision. A second before Ajax''s fists descended, certain of their devastating impact, Nathan vanished. BADAAAAAAAM! The ground beneath exploded in a deafening burst of power. Shards of debris flew like deadly projectiles, and a shockwave rippled outward, claiming the lives of the unlucky souls who had been caught behind Nathan''s previous position. Their bodies were torn apart, reduced to grisly fragments in the chaotic aftermath. Amidst the settling dust and carnage, Ajax''s victorious smirk faltered, then disappeared entirely. He scanned the destruction, his instincts screaming that something was wrong. His gaze snapped around¡ªand froze. There stood Nathan, unharmed and utterly calm, a ghostly silhouette in the swirling smoke. His lips curled into a smirk of his own, a mocking expression that sent a chill down Ajax''s spine. "Impossible..." Ajax muttered under his breath. He replayed the moment in his head¡ªNathan had been there, in the strike zone. He shouldn''t have been able to escape, not with that speed. Nathan''s eyes were different now. His ice-blue iris glinted like frost under the sun, while the other eye glowed gold, its slit pupil pulsing with a feral, demonic light. His entire presence was altered, his body taut and trembling with restrained power. He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold, charged air. "If magic won''t work," Nathan said, his voice low but cutting, "then I''ll just beat you down with my fists." "What!?" Ajax''s face twisted in shock, but before he could react, Nathan was already upon him, his movements impossibly fast. BADAM! Nathan''s fist slammed into Ajax''s abdomen like a cannonball, the force driving deep into the massive warrior''s midsection. The sound of impact reverberated through the air like thunder. "GARH!" Ajax''s eyes widened as blood erupted from his mouth. His towering form was hurled backward with staggering speed, crashing to the ground and rolling violently across the shattered battlefield. "Did you hurt yourself?" Nathan mocked, his voice cold and unrelenting. He grabbed Ajax''s damaged arm, wrenching it with enough force to elicit a guttural cry of pain. Without missing a beat, Nathan''s other fist drove forward, smashing into Ajax''s face with unrelenting precision. BADAM! The sickening crunch of bone echoed as Ajax''s nose shattered under the blow. Blood gushed freely, staining his once-pristine features as he was sent hurtling across the battlefield. His massive frame skidded to a halt several meters away, the ground cracking beneath him. For a moment, a heavy silence fell over the battlefield. Both Trojans and Greeks, who had been witnesses to countless battles and bloodshed, found themselves spellbound by the brutal exchange. This was no ordinary fight. This was a clash worthy of the legends they had grown up hearing¡ªa battle that would be sung about for generations to come. It wasn''t just the raw power on display; it was the primal force of the combatants. A pure, unrestrained contest of manly strength. But one thing became abundantly clear to everyone present. Heiron, the mercenary recruited for a few silver coins was a monster in his own right. To go toe-to-toe with Ajax the Great in sheer strength was unthinkable. Nathan stood amidst the chaos, his chest heaving with labored breaths, the sound of his ragged inhalations drowned out by the roaring tension in the battlefield. His fists trembled, not with fear, but with the sheer strain of his efforts. Each swing, every punch, had pushed him to the edge of his limits. His body screamed for rest, for reprieve, but Nathan''s mind silenced those pleas. He glanced down at his bloodied hands, his knuckles split open and raw, the bones beneath fractured and fragile. Yet, he clenched his fists tighter, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his arms like wildfire. Pain was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was the figure before him¡ªthe man who had to die. His thoughts burned with a singular focus: Aisha. Each time Nathan looked at Ajax, rage overtook him, consuming every corner of his mind. He didn''t see the battlefield, the soldiers, or the shocked faces of the onlookers. He saw only him. Across the field, Ajax staggered to his feet, his massive frame looming like a shadow of death. Blood streaked his face, dripping from his nose and lips, but he seemed unfazed by the injuries. With a casual swipe of his arm, he wiped the crimson stains from his skin, revealing his cold, hardened expression beneath. The playful smirk that had danced on Ajax''s face earlier was gone. In its place was a grim visage of pure, murderous intent. His icy glare locked onto Nathan, promising retribution. The air grew heavy as Ajax tilted his head back and let out a thunderous roar, a sound so deafening it seemed to shake the heavens themselves. "GAAAAARGHHHHHH!" The earth beneath them trembled as his guttural cry echoed across the battlefield, reaching even the distant walls of Troy. Soldiers on both sides froze in place, their weapons slack in their hands as they turned to witness the terrifying transformation unfolding before their eyes. Ajax''s body began to glow, a blinding white aura enveloping him like a shroud of divine power. The light was fierce and searing, illuminating the battlefield and casting long, jagged shadows. It was the radiance of a man unrestrained¡ªa man who had cast aside all pretense of holding back. Every muscle on Ajax''s massive frame seemed to ripple with unnatural strength, his veins glowing faintly as if liquid fire coursed through them. His very presence was suffocating, the raw power radiating from him pressing down on Nathan like a mountain. He was going to go all out. Chapter 231 Killing Ajax! 231 Killing Ajax! Every muscle on Ajax''s massive frame seemed to ripple with unnatural strength, his veins glowing faintly as if liquid fire coursed through them. His very presence was suffocating, the raw power radiating from him pressing down on Nathan like a mountain. He was going to go all out. Nathan''s gaze never wavered. Despite the crushing weight of Ajax''s unleashed might, he stood firm. Blood dripped from his cracked knuckles onto the dirt, pooling at his feet, but his eyes burned brighter than ever. Ajax burned bright, his aura blazing as he stepped forward with terrifying speed, vanishing in a blink and reappearing behind Nathan. The air itself seemed to tremble under his raw power. Yet, Nathan stood unmoving, his head lowered, as if resigned or calculating. BADAM! The air where Nathan''s head had been exploded outward with a deafening shockwave, Ajax''s strike carving through space with the force of a hurricane. Dust and debris scattered violently. But Nathan, calm and unshaken, had already shifted his weight. With fluid precision, he twisted his body and delivered a powerful kick to Ajax''s side. Ajax staggered slightly, his massive frame absorbing the brunt of the blow. His ribs visibly caved inward under the force, but he hardly budged. Nathan grimaced, pain shooting up his leg from the impact, and instinctively leapt back, distancing himself. In a blur, Ajax retaliated. His colossal hand lunged forward like a predator''s claw, snatching Nathan''s head in an unrelenting grip before he could react. "I will crush your skull!" Ajax roared, his voice echoing like thunder. A searing pain shot through Nathan''s head, the pressure threatening to turn his skull into nothing but shattered fragments. His vision blurred, and time seemed to slow. Desperation kicked in, and Nathan knew he had only moments to act. With a sharp inhale, Nathan twisted his body mid-air, wrapping his legs tightly around Ajax''s thick, muscular arm. His thighs locked with a crushing force as he channeled all his strength into a desperate maneuver. CRACK! Ajax''s bellow of pain filled the battlefield as his arm audibly fractured under Nathan''s vice-like grip. His grip on Nathan''s head faltered, and in a moment of hesitation, he released him. But that was his gravest mistake. Nathan seized the opportunity with deadly precision. Rising to his feet with a burst of energy, he launched a devastating uppercut. THUD! In a blur of movement, Nathan appeared before Ajax once more, his icy eyes devoid of mercy. Without hesitation, he drove his knee into Ajax''s stomach with earth-shaking force. Ajax''s body bent in half from the blow, his ribs collapsing inward like fragile glass under a sledgehammer. "BARGHH!" Ajax gagged, blood and bile spilling from his lips. He was sent hurtling backward, his massive frame skidding across the ground like a broken doll. He tumbled, finally coming to a halt in a crater of dust and debris. When his eyes fluttered open, Nathan was already there, looming over him like a specter of death. The cold, unyielding gaze in Nathan''s eyes struck a deep chord of fear in Ajax¡ªa feeling he had never known before. For the first time in his life, Ajax felt the suffocating grip of dread. BADAM! Nathan''s fist came down like a meteor, slamming into Ajax''s cheek with a brutal crack. Ajax''s head snapped sideways, the side of his head fracturing under the unrelenting power. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he coughed weakly, struggling to even part his lips. Still, his warrior''s instinct fought against despair. Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, Ajax tried to raise his arm in defiance. But Nathan was faster. Before the arm could fully rise, Nathan''s leg lashed out with terrifying speed and power. A collective silence spread across the battlefield. The Greeks stood frozen, their faces pale as death, their breaths shallow and uncertain. This was Ajax the Great, a demigod, a pillar of strength and invincibility, brought low by a single man. On the Trojan side, the reaction was the opposite. Though equally wide-eyed, their expressions brimmed with astonishment and relief. The impossible had happened, but in their favor. Nathan''s name was destined to echo in tales of triumph. Nathan, standing tall amidst the chaos, gazed coldly down at Ajax''s lifeless form. Without a flicker of hesitation, he raised his hand, and an icy frost began to spread. It crawled over Ajax''s body, encasing the fallen warrior in a frozen prison. The frost glittered in the waning sunlight, a cruel mockery of the once-mighty hero. Then, with a swift, brutal motion, Nathan drove his foot down. The sound echoed sharply across the battlefield. Ajax''s frozen body shattered into countless shards of ice, scattering across the bloodstained earth. It was merciless. Tradition dictated that even the bodies of enemies, especially warriors of Ajax''s caliber, were given proper rites. Great warriors were honored with tombs and rituals, ensuring their passage to the Elysian Fields¡ªa resting place for the most valiant souls. But Nathan denied Ajax even that. To him, Ajax was not a warrior. He was trash. The lowest form of filth. Unworthy of rest. Nathan''s cold gaze lingered on the icy remains for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the battlefield. A sharp sound broke through the tension¡ªa sudden movement behind him. Nathan''s ears caught the faint displacement of air, his body reacting before thought. Someone was trying to strike him from behind, thinking him vulnerable after his fight with Ajax. The would-be assassin lunged, sword in hand, aiming for Nathan''s back. But Nathan was always vigilant. Before the blade could make contact, Nathan vanished. "What?!" Jason, the celebrated Greek hero, stumbled forward as his sword slashed through empty air. His shock was palpable. His wide, startled eyes darted around, searching for Nathan. But Jason''s search ended abruptly. A sharp, thin line of red appeared across his throat. He froze, his hands instinctively rising to touch the blood now pouring from the wound. His sword clattered to the ground, forgotten. Jason''s lips quivered as he struggled to process what had happened. Moments later, his head slipped from his shoulders. It landed heavily on the dirt, the once-proud hero''s lifeless eyes staring blankly into the void. His body, now headless, remained upright for a moment before collapsing to its knees. Blood streamed down, soaking the earth beneath him. Chapter 232 Heirons shocking victory! 232 Heiron''s shocking victory! His body, now headless, remained upright for a moment before collapsing to its knees. Blood streamed down, soaking the earth beneath him. Nathan stood a short distance away, his black blade gleaming with fresh blood. His expression was unchanging, as if Jason''s death carried no more weight than a passing breeze. The man who had dared to challenge him for Medea and the Golden Fleece was nothing more than another obstacle¡ªeasily and ruthlessly removed. Nathan turned his back on Jason''s headless corpse without a second glance.The Greeks, who had watched their champions fall, were too terrified to act to try anything. "He... He killed Ajax..." A Greek soldier whispered in disbelief, his trembling voice barely audible amidst the chaos. It was as if muttering the words aloud would somehow confirm that this wasn''t some twisted dream¡ªthough for them, it was nothing short of a nightmare. But his quiet exclamation carried, rippling through the ranks like a stone dropped in still water. "Jason too..." another soldier muttered, his voice tinged with horror. The battlefield fell into a stunned silence, broken only by the distant clash of weapons and the crackling of flames. The mighty Ajax the Great¡ªKing of Salamis, the fabled colossus of Greek legend, a man said to be as indomitable as Achilles or Agamemnon¡ªwas dead. His presence had been a pillar of Greek morale, his strength a banner under which the army rallied with unwavering confidence. Yet now, his lifeless body had been shattered, his legend reduced to icy shards scattered across the blood-soaked earth. Jason, the leader of the famed Argonauts, had fared no better. A single, effortless slice to his neck had ended his storied life. The precision of the strike was almost surgical, devoid of struggle, as though Heiron had found it beneath his notice to extend the fight. One of the bodies lay shattered into crystalline fragments, glittering faintly in the dim light, while the other lay prone on the ground, headless and unmoving. "Heiron won!" The shout came suddenly, bursting forth from the Trojan ranks. "YEEEAAAAHHHH!" "HEIRON! HEIRON!" The Trojans erupted in unison, their voices rising into a deafening roar. Weapons were thrust into the air, glinting fiercely beneath the sun, and their jubilant cries echoed across the battlefield like a triumphant symphony. The sound was so powerful, so all-encompassing, that it seemed to make the very air tremble. The Greeks, paralyzed by the weight of their shock, began to falter. The sight of their two champions defeated so decisively drained the fight from their spirits. Unwilling to face Heiron''s wrath or the resurgent Trojans, they turned and retreated, their once-proud army now a broken shadow of its former self. Meanwhile, the Trojans surged forward, surrounding Heiron with reverent awe. Their cheers grew louder still, their voices carrying all the way to the towering walls of Troy. The defenders upon the ramparts could see him standing amidst the carnage, his armor gleaming, his presence larger than life. Heiron had fought Ajax with such ferocity that the ground bore the scars of their clash¡ªcraters, shattered stones, and scorch marks from the sheer violence of their duel. Few among the Trojans had dared to hope he could triumph against the Greek titan, and yet, not only had he done so, but he had also vanquished Jason, a cunning and dangerous foe in his own right. Inside the great city of Troy, Queen Hecuba stood upon a balcony overlooking the scene, her hands clasped tightly against her chest. Her expression was a mixture of shock and joy, her lips curving into a delighted smile as her wide eyes turned toward her husband. Next to her, Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and protector of women, wore a soft smile. Her usually reserved demeanor had given way to visible delight. "I still can''t believe it," she murmured, her voice trembling ever so slightly. But beyond her disbelief was a deep satisfaction. Heiron had done what few could have imagined, and in doing so, he had vanquished a man Artemis despised. Ajax, who had always treated women as objects, had finally met his end at the hands of someone who fought for more than glory or conquest. "He''s not bad at all," she added, her tone laced with approval. Ares, the god of war, stood nearby, his expression a stark contrast to the two goddesses. His lips curled into a wide, wolfish grin, his blood running hot with excitement. His muscles tensed, his fists clenched, and his eyes glinted with a predatory gleam as he watched Heiron bask in the adoration of the Trojans. "I like him," Ares growled, his voice rumbling like thunder. "He''s strong... really strong. I want to fight him." On the other side of the divine divide, two goddesses were far from pleased. "How?!" Hera''s voice thundered with unrestrained fury, echoing like a storm ready to break. Her regal composure cracked as she clenched her fists tightly, trembling with the effort it took to restrain herself from acting on her rage. Every fiber of her being screamed to kill Heiron where he stood, to erase the dangerous man who had just shifted the balance of the war. Yet, she couldn''t. Artemis and Aphrodite stood nearby, their gazes locked onto her with quiet intensity. Both goddesses were clearly prepared to intervene if she made a move against Heiron. The audacity of their defiance only deepened Hera''s anger, but she knew better than to provoke them openly. Worse still, her stupid son, Ares, would likely join the fray¡ªnot to support her, but because the prospect of battle thrilled him. And then there was Zeus. Her husband wouldn''t take kindly to such impulsiveness, especially not over something that might threaten the fragile balance of divine alliances. Hera grit her teeth so hard it felt as if they might crack. She had never been a stranger to anger, but rarely did it burn as hotly as it did now. "I should have blessed him!" she spat, the frustration in her voice sharp enough to cut. In her mind, the outcome was clear: if only she had granted Ajax her divine favor, this catastrophe could have been avoided. "No," Athena interjected, her tone calm but firm. "Even with your blessing, I believe he still would have lost." Athena''s composed exterior masked her inner turmoil, but the way her hand tightened on the shaft of her lance betrayed the anger simmering beneath her calm demeanor. Ajax had been one of their greatest champions, a critical piece on the chessboard of this war. His loss was a heavy blow, but Athena''s nature wouldn''t allow her to lose control as Hera had. Hera whipped around to glare at her fellow goddess. "Who the hell is that bastard?!" she demanded, her voice dripping with venom. It made no sense. This Heiron had appeared out of nowhere. A mortal with such overwhelming strength should have been famous, spoken of in songs and stories across the lands. How had someone so powerful remained in the shadows until now? "I don''t know either," Athena admitted, her eyes narrowing in thought. For all her wisdom and far-reaching knowledge, even she was at a loss. It was infuriating, and yet she couldn''t deny the mystery intrigued her. Athena''s gaze shifted to Aphrodite, whose expression had remained unreadable through the exchange. The goddess of love and beauty had been suspiciously quiet, and Athena couldn''t shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. "I don''t care!" Hera snarled, the air around her crackling with her fury. "I will find out who he is!" Before anyone could respond, Hera''s form shimmered and vanished, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and the lingering echo of her anger. Chapter 233 Atalantas doubts 233 Atalanta''s doubts Athena''s gaze shifted to Aphrodite, whose expression had remained unreadable through the exchange. The goddess of love and beauty had been suspiciously quiet, and Athena couldn''t shake the feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. "I don''t care!" Hera snarled, the air around her crackling with her fury. "I will find out who he is!" Before anyone could respond, Hera''s form shimmered and vanished, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and the lingering echo of her anger. Athena lingered for a moment, her gaze fixed on Heiron. Her sharp blue eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity, a faint sense of recognition tugging at the corners of her mind. There was something familiar about him¡ªnot his face, but an intangible aura, a fleeting memory she couldn''t quite grasp. It was like trying to catch a shadow in the fading light, slipping through her thoughts before she could pin it down. Had she truly seen him before, or was this sense of familiarity merely a trick of the mind? She searched her memories, combing through the countless faces and moments etched in her long life, but nothing came. With a soft sigh, she let it go. Perhaps it was nothing more than coincidence. There was no point dwelling on it now. Her attention shifted downward, to the battlefield below. From her vantage point, she could see the Greeks scattered in disarray, their expressions frozen in shock and despair. They were staring blankly at the cheering Trojans, their gaze sweeping desperately over the jubilant crowd in search of the one responsible for the calamity that had unfolded in their midst. But Nathan was hidden from most of their eyes, obscured by the sea of victorious Trojans who roared his name like a battle cry. Not that it mattered. The Greeks were retreating. Their morale was shattered, crushed beneath the weight of Ajax''s death and the unrelenting enthusiasm of the Trojan forces. The Trojans, bolstered by their unexpected victory and the deaths of two of Greece''s mightiest warriors, were riding high on a surge of adrenaline and pride. The Greeks, by contrast, were drained and disheartened. Fighting under these conditions would only lead to further disaster. All the Greek commanders, acting as though by some unspoken agreement, ordered a slow and steady retreat. It was not a decision born of strategy but of necessity. The death of Ajax, the mighty King of Salamis, left a gaping void in their ranks. His army was leaderless, their cohesion at risk of crumbling without a steady hand to guide them. Though Ajax''s brother, Teucer, might have stepped into his role, his fate was no better. He too had fallen¡ªstruck down by the same man who had felled Ajax. The loss was catastrophic. Without a commander, the Salamis army teetered on the edge of collapse, and their faltering resolve threatened to spread like a disease through the rest of the Greek forces. To stave off disaster, the retreat was inevitable. What remained of their pride demanded they call it a "strategic withdrawal," but in truth, it was little more than a desperate flight from the battlefield. A crushing defeat. They had lost not just a king, but also their footing in this war. Athena turned and departed swiftly, her expression unreadable. Whatever plans she harbored, she kept to herself, leaving the Greeks to lick their wounds and the Trojans to revel in their triumph. Amid the chaos of jubilant Trojans and broken Greeks, Nathan stood at the center of the storm, struggling to catch his breath. The cheers of the Trojans rang in his ears, a deafening cacophony of victory. His skin was pale, his face slick with sweat, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. Ajax had been a powerful opponent, far stronger than Nathan had anticipated. Every blow from the Greek king had been heavy with the might of Zeus''s blood coursing through his veins. And yet, Nathan had prevailed. Though he masked his emotions behind a calm exterior, a glimmer of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. This was no ordinary victory¡ªit was a personal one. He had killed and humiliated the man who had dared to lay hands on Aisha. "You''ve won, Heiron." Hector''s voice carried a warmth rarely seen from the stoic Trojan prince as he approached Nathan, his face lit with a rare smile. He placed a firm, appreciative hand on Nathan''s shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie and respect. Today, Hector was more than proud¡ªhe was relieved. Relieved to have a friend and ally of Nathan''s caliber standing by his side in this grueling war. The idea unsettled her. If his warmth and camaraderie toward her had been a fac?ade, it would wound her deeply¡ªbecause for her, none of it had been false. Nathan was the first man she had ever felt comfortable speaking to. As a devotee of Artemis, she had spent little time around men, and those she did encounter were invariably consumed by their desires. She had seen it in their eyes: the way they ogled her, reducing her to a prize to be claimed. But Nathan had been different. His gaze never lingered inappropriately, never carried the weight of expectation or lust. With him, she could speak plainly, without fear of being misunderstood or objectified. It was liberating, and she had come to treasure their conversations more than she realized. Now, however, uncertainty clouded those memories. Her steps quickened, as if she could outrun her troubling thoughts, and she soon found herself walking ahead of the group. Charybdis approached Nathan quietly, her expression calm yet tinged with concern. She had never doubted Nathan''s ability to defeat Ajax. He was a warrior like no other, and she had every confidence in his strength. Yet even so, she couldn''t ignore the strain she had seen in him during the fight. Nathan''s body was weakening. She knew it, and he knew it. Apollo''s intervention had granted him more time, but it had done nothing to address the root of the issue: his dwindling life force. Charybdis reached for his hand, her fingers curling around his with gentle insistence. Nathan responded instinctively, grasping her hand in return. As they continued walking, he felt a subtle flow of her mana seep into him, its warmth spreading through his body like a soothing balm. The tension in his shoulders eased, and his steps regained their steadiness. Charybdis didn''t speak¡ªshe didn''t need to. Her silent support was enough, and Nathan was quietly grateful for it. "You have to be there for tonight''s feast, Heiron," Hector said, his tone apologetic. A rueful smile tugged at his lips. "I''m sorry, but you''ll have to bear with it." Nathan turned his gaze to the Trojan prince, his expression unreadable. He knew Hector understood his distaste for the pomp and noise of celebrations. But today, there was no avoiding it. "You''re the hero of the day," Hector continued, his voice tinged with both pride and regret. "The man who killed Ajax. And after a victory like this, my father will undoubtedly have a reward prepared for you." "You''re the hero of the day," Hector continued, his voice tinged with both pride and regret. "The man who killed Ajax. And after a victory like this, my father will undoubtedly have a reward prepared for you." Nathan inclined his head slightly, his way of signaling he understood. He didn''t protest or grumble. He had accepted this inevitability the moment he chose to kill Ajax on the battlefield¡ªunder the watchful eyes of Greeks, Trojans, and, most importantly, the Gods themselves. Chapter 234 Heirons rewarded again! 234 Heiron''s rewarded again! "You''re the hero of the day," Hector continued, his voice tinged with both pride and regret. "The man who killed Ajax. And after a victory like this, my father will undoubtedly have a reward prepared for you." Nathan inclined his head slightly, his way of signaling he understood. He didn''t protest or grumble. He had accepted this inevitability the moment he chose to kill Ajax on the battlefield¡ªunder the watchful eyes of Greeks, Trojans, and, most importantly, the Gods themselves. Stepping into the spotlight had been a calculated decision. If the Gods wanted a spectacle, he would give them one. Nathan returned to his quarters within the towering walls of Troy''s royal castle. The room, though grand by most standards, was modest compared to the opulence surrounding it, a reflection of his role as an outsider¡ªa mercenary allowed inside the heart of Trojan society. The evening sun filtered through the intricately woven curtains, casting warm amber hues across the stone walls. He shrugged off his worn battle tunic, the scent of sweat and blood lingering faintly on the fabric, and stepped into the adjoining bathing chamber. Warm water cascaded over him as he let the tension of the day slip away. The recent battle replayed in his mind¡ªnot with a sense of glory, but with the calculated detachment of one accustomed to war. After a quick shower, Nathan selected a set of fine Trojan garments. The rich fabric, dyed in deep crimson and gold accents, was far removed from the utilitarian attire he usually donned. Every detail, from the embroidery of laurel leaves on his cloak to the polished leather of his belt, spoke of a warrior whose deeds had earned him a place among kings and nobles. Not long ago, the people of Troy had eyed him with suspicion, their whispers echoing through the grand halls. A mere mercenary, living in the royal castle? they had scoffed. But today, those murmurs had been silenced. No one dared question his presence now¡ªnot after his victory. Leaving Charybdis to rest outside the palace walls, Nathan made his way alone toward the banquet hall. The sea creature, who served as both companion and ally, had grown restless on land. She needed the open seas to find solace, to feel truly at home. Nathan understood this unspoken need and gave her the space she deserved. Tomorrow promised respite; the Greeks, licking their wounds from their catastrophic loss, would likely require days to regroup. The death of Ajax had shaken them to their core, and the absence of their formidable hero would cripple their morale. The Trojans, however, were jubilant. Victory hung in the air, thick and heady like the scent of roasted meats wafting from the banquet. As Nathan approached the grand hall, the sound of celebration grew louder. The Trojans'' laughter and cheers echoed through the marble corridors, a symphony of triumph and relief. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors, and the room fell into a brief hush before erupting into applause. Nobles and warriors alike turned to him, their faces alight with admiration and gratitude. "To Heiron, the slayer of Ajax and Jason!" someone shouted, raising a goblet high. Nathan inclined his head in acknowledgment, his expression impassive. The crowd interpreted his stoic demeanor as humility, a trait that only endeared him further. To them, he was not just a warrior but a paragon of restraint¡ªa man who did not let his monumental achievements inflate his ego. Priam, seated on his gilded throne at the far end of the hall, raised a hand. "Silence, please," the king commanded, his voice steady but authoritative. The room quieted immediately, the sea of celebrants parting to allow Nathan a clear path to the throne. He strode forward, his boots echoing against the polished marble floor, until he stood before the aging king. Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee, his head bowed. Priam leaned forward slightly, his weathered face softening. "Rise, Heiron," he said gently. "You need not kneel after what you have done for my city and my people." Nathan stood, his piercing gaze meeting Priam''s. The king''s expression was a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. "I am more than satisfied with your accomplishments," Priam continued, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity. "Troy has been fortunate to have a warrior of your caliber fighting beneath its banner. But tell me, was there a reason you chose us over the Greeks? Both sides seek mercenaries, and I cannot imagine the Greeks would have offered you less. What brought you to Troy willingly?" Gasps rippled through the hall like a wave. The third floor was a space reserved exclusively for high-ranking nobles and visiting royalty. For a mercenary to be offered such an honor was unheard of. Yet no one voiced any objections. Instead, the Trojans looked at Nathan with pride, as if this gesture somehow reflected their collective gratitude for his deeds. Nathan hesitated. He wasn''t fond of grand gestures or undue attention, but he knew declining the offer would only invite further insistence so he inclined his head. "I accept gratefully," he said, his tone formal yet sincere. "Then enjoy, brave Trojans!" Priam proclaimed, standing tall with a smile that radiated genuine warmth and pride. His voice echoed through the great hall, carrying the weight of his joy and relief. The Trojans erupted into cheers, their voices rising in unison to celebrate the moment. It was as though the heavy tension of war had been momentarily lifted, replaced by the simple joys of camaraderie and hope. Servants hurried in with platters of roasted meats, fresh-baked bread, and overflowing goblets of wine. The rich aroma of spices and honey filled the air, a testament to Troy''s fertile lands and the careful preparation they had undertaken for this long-looming conflict. Despite the shadow of war hanging over them, Troy''s prosperity remained evident. The kingdom had been blessed with fertile soil and resourceful people, ensuring their stores were well-stocked. For at least the next five years, they would not know the pangs of famine. Months of preparation had made sure of that. Nathan allowed himself a moment to breathe amidst the jubilant atmosphere. The tension in his shoulders loosened as he took a seat beside Hector and Aeneas. Both warriors had smiles on their faces, though Nathan could see the underlying weariness in their eyes¡ªa weariness he shared. He accepted a goblet of wine, raising it slightly in a quiet toast before taking a measured sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat, its subtle sweetness mixed with a faint spice. It wasn''t enough to cloud his mind, but perhaps it would help numb the ever-present ache of his wounds. "Not bad, eh?" Hector grinned, clapping Nathan on the shoulder. "You''ve earned this, my friend. Drink, eat, and let the gods grant you peace tonight." Nathan offered a faint smile in return, though his thoughts were elsewhere. The hall buzzed with laughter and song, but he couldn''t shake the sensation of being watched. A particular gaze burned into him. He resisted the urge to turn his head, knowing all too well whose eyes followed him. Kassandra of Troy. Comment 3 View All Share what''s on your mind! 12:48 Chapter 235 Talking it out with Atalanta 235 Talking it out with Atalanta Nathan offered a faint smile in return, though his thoughts were elsewhere. The hall buzzed with laughter and song, but he couldn''t shake the sensation of being watched. A particular gaze burned into him. He resisted the urge to turn his head, knowing all too well whose eyes followed him. Kassandra of Troy. The princess sat at the far end of the room, her posture regal yet detached from the revelry around her. From the moment he returned, her eyes were on him. The intensity of her gaze was unsettling, but Nathan couldn''t decipher her intent. He had never spoken to her before, not once since his arrival at Troy. Her sudden interest puzzled him, especially because it seemed tied to his recent victory. It was Ajax¡ªAjax the Great, a titan among warriors, now slain by Nathan''s hand. Yet her expression wasn''t one of admiration or disdain; it was something far more complex. Shock, perhaps? As if she couldn''t reconcile the image of him with the act of killing such a legendary figure. Ultimately, Nathan decided to push the matter aside. There were more pressing concerns than the silent scrutiny of a stranger. The grand hall of Troy was alive with the warmth of camaraderie. Golden torchlight flickered against the polished stone walls, casting shadows that danced with the movements of the assembled warriors. Nathan sat at a long wooden table among esteemed company: Hector, Aeneas, and Sarpedon, whose hearty laughter filled the air like a melody of goodwill. "I''ll say it again," Sarpedon declared, his grin wide as he raised his bronze cup. "I''m glad you''re on our side, Heiron." Nathan smiled faintly lifting his own cup in acknowledgment. "To Heiron!" Aeneas called, his voice brimming with mirth. He raised his cup higher, and the others joined in the toast. Even Hector, reserved as ever, allowed a small smile to grace his face as he clinked his cup with the rest. The atmosphere was infectious. Nathan couldn''t help but feel a quiet satisfaction. From the moment he had stepped into Troy, they had treated him with respect, despite his status as a mercenary. Now, with his victories in battle, they regarded him as one of their own. For once, he felt valued. He contrasted this with his bitter memories of the Empire of Light, where he had been branded a threat without trial, hunted and nearly killed. Here in Troy, there was no such scorn. Instead, there was gratitude, admiration, and camaraderie. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Nathan allowed himself to think: Perhaps this journey to Troy was not a waste. Putting aside the matter of life and death for why he had come to Troy, he would have regretted not having come here for certain. For now, he would protect the city. He would fight for its people, and he would wait for Apollo''s promised return. Until then, his path seemed clearer than it had been in years. "I offer my congratulations," a soft voice interrupted his thoughts. Nathan turned to see her: Astynome, the priestess of Apollo. She stood with a grace that seemed otherworldly, her flowing robes of white and gold catching the flickering light. Her hair framed a face marked by quiet beauty. But it was her eyes that caught his attention most¡ªwarm and full of genuine pride. "Your victory against Ajax the Great and Jason of the Argonauts is nothing short of extraordinary," she said, her voice carrying both reverence and joy. Nathan offered a modest smile. "Thank you, Priestess." As the lively conversation among the warriors continued, Nathan''s attention drifted. His gaze settled on Atalanta, standing alone in a quiet corner of the hall. Her posture was stiff, her expression distant, and her arms were crossed in a manner that suggested she was lost in thought. Nathan understood what likely troubled her. She had pieced together the truth about his identity¡ªof that, he was certain. The realization didn''t surprise him. Before, he might have brushed off such matters without a second thought. But things had changed. Nathan had come to appreciate Atalanta''s character. She was nothing like those who had betrayed or scorned him in the past or just rotten women like Nancy. Atalanta was genuine, brave, and steadfast, qualities that had earned his respect. He didn''t want this newfound camaraderie to sour due to misunderstanding or mistrust. Resolving to address the matter, Nathan rose from his seat and crossed the room. His movements drew a few curious glances, but he paid them no mind. "Atalanta," he called as he approached. Her head turned, and her emerald eyes met his. "Oh... Heiron," she replied, her voice tinged with awkwardness. Her lips formed a faint smile, but it was clear she was uneasy. Nathan wasted no time. "I think you know who I am by now," he said evenly, his tone neither accusatory nor defensive. Atalanta hesitated, her silence confirming his suspicion. She looked away briefly, as if weighing her next words, but chose to say nothing. "I have my reasons for taking part in this war," Nathan continued, his voice steady yet firm. "And for siding with Troy. But I ask that my identity remain a secret. I''d rather Tenebria not be involved in this conflict." His words were more than a simple request. Revealing his position as Lord Commander of Tenebria could complicate matters dangerously. It would draw the ire of even more Greek gods and possibly unify the Greeks against Tenebria who was already in a dangerous spot because of the Demon King. Atalanta regarded him with a thoughtful expression. She could see the burden Nathan carried, balancing his responsibilities as a leader with the personal connections he had formed here. Yet, she had no intention of betraying his trust. "I won''t say anything," she assured him, her voice steady and sincere. Nathan nodded, relieved. "Thanks." He turned as if to leave but paused. Something weighed on his chest, something that needed to be said. "I''ve never manipulated you," he said. "What I shared with you was mostly the truth¡ªeverything except my role as a mercenary. There were no lies in our exchanges, and I wasn''t pretending. You don''t need to feel awkward around me." Atalanta''s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she seemed surprised. But then her expression softened, and a genuine smile graced her lips. It was as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, the tension in her stance melting away. "I believe you," she said warmly. "And it''s the same for me. I''ve always been honest with you...Heiron. I''m happy to be one of your companions." "Likewise," Nathan replied with a rare, heartfelt smile. With that simple exchange, the misunderstandings and unspoken doubts were swept away, leaving only the mutual respect and trust they had cultivated. Chapter 236 : Talking to Kassandra of Troy With the tension between them peacefully resolved, Atalanta had reclaimed her usual serene demeanor. Her small, confident smile returned as she joined Hector and the others at the grand feast. The hall buzzed with the hum of celebration¡ªthe clinking of goblets, bursts of laughter, and the warm glow of torchlight reflecting off polished armor and fine fabrics. Atalanta also extended an invitation to Nathan. However, Nathan purposefully stayed apart from the revelry, standing near a shadowed alcove at the edge of the hall as he leaned against a pillar, nursing a goblet of watered wine. He had felt her gaze on him for a while now, an intense yet tentative observation. Kassandra. Remaining isolated was a deliberate choice, his way of silently signaling to her: If you want to talk, now is the time. And, eventually, the bait worked. Kassandra approached him with measured grace, her crimson gown trailing behind her like a flowing river of fire. The gown clung to her figure, regal yet understated, accentuating her striking presence. Despite her beauty, she was not the center of attention. Most avoided her, perhaps out of respect for her royal blood or, more likely, due to her ominous reputation. Her sharp remarks about Troy''s fate, though well-meaning, cast a shadow wherever she went. She never openly shared her visions of disaster but cloaked her warnings in grim remarks that others dismissed as unwelcome negativity. Her intentions were clear¡ªto protect those she cared for¡ªbut her gift, or curse, made her a misunderstood outcast. "Lord Heiron," Kassandra said, her voice soft yet formal as she stopped before him. She lowered her head in a polite bow, an unusual display for someone of her status. "Princess Kassandra," Nathan replied, his tone neutral but acknowledging. He straightened slightly, meeting her gaze with his piercing eyes. Despite her rank, her demeanor toward him was one of respect, as though she recognized the vital role the mercenary Heiron had come to play in Troy''s survival. "Thank you for making time for me," she said. It was clear she had noticed Nathan''s purposeful isolation. "It''s fine," Nathan replied evenly, his sharp gaze never leaving hers. Truthfully, he had been curious about her behavior, her lingering glances, and her silent observations. There was a reason she had sought him out, and he intended to uncover it. "I saw your fight," Kassandra began, her tone sincere. "It was... impressive." Nathan inclined his head slightly. "It was." She hesitated for a moment, as though weighing her next words carefully. "I... never thought you were going to defeat him. Let alone kill him." "Like everyone else," Nathan replied, his tone calm but tinged with faint amusement. The skepticism of others before the fight was nothing new. "No, you misunderstand me," Kassandra said, her brow furrowing. "I didn''t think anyone could kill Ajax." Nathan''s expression shifted, his brows knitting together as her words struck a chord. There was something in her tone¡ªan absolute certainty that made his instincts flare. It didn''t take him long to arrive at a conclusion. His gaze sharpened. "You saw him alive... at the end," he stated. Kassandra''s eyes widened, her shock unmasked for a fleeting moment. She hadn''t expected him to deduce the truth so quickly. He shouldn''t have known about her visions, yet here he stood, staring at her as if he had unraveled her secret. Her surprise quickly gave way to understanding. "My brother told you?" she asked, her voice quieter now, laced with an edge of vulnerability. But if that were true, what did it mean for Kassandra''s vision? Nathan''s eyes narrowed. "Did I really... change the future she saw?" Nathan was still unsure about it. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but his interest in Kassandra''s visions was undeniable. While her range was shorter than Astynome''s, her foresight seemed uncannily accurate, which intrigued him. "What else did you see?" Nathan asked, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. Kassandra hesitated, her gaze distant as if reliving the visions she had endured. "Other things, other outcomes... but I''m not sure what to believe anymore," she admitted bitterly. "I can''t blame everyone for doubting me when even I''m not certain of what I see." Read latest stories on empire "I believe you," Nathan replied. Kassandra blinked, her red eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. "Hmm?" she murmured, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Nathan met her gaze, his own eyes steady and sincere. "I believe you, Princess Kassandra. Entirely. I have no doubt about you. I know you wouldn''t lie about something like this." Her lips parted in silent astonishment, and her eyes quivered as his words sank in. How long had she waited for someone to truly believe her? Not with hollow assurances or pitying smiles, but with genuine faith? Her mother had often whispered words of support, and the temple priestesses had offered prayers for her, but she knew their assurances were laced with doubt. But Nathan¡ªhe wasn''t lying. She could feel the authenticity in his voice, in his steady gaze. "You... believe me?" she asked again, needing to hear it once more. "I do," Nathan said without hesitation. "So please, inform me of all your visions from now on. Don''t waste your energy explaining yourself to those who won''t believe you. Instead, tell me. I might be able to change the future." There was a conviction in his words that startled her. He wasn''t merely humoring her or seeking favor. He was serious¡ªtruly serious¡ªabout trusting her. Kassandra stared at him, her mind reeling. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek before she even realized it. For years, she had carried the weight of Apollo''s curse, the burden of being disbelieved, mocked, and dismissed. And now, in this moment, Nathan''s simple yet powerful statement had broken through her despair. Nathan''s brow furrowed as he noticed the tear. Glancing around quickly, he ensured no one else had seen it. The last thing he wanted was for someone to question why Kassandra, of all people, was crying¡ªand why he might be responsible for it. "You have something in your eye," he said casually, stepping closer. With a gentle touch, he wiped the tear from her cheek with his finger. Kassandra shivered at the unexpected contact, her breath catching. The warmth of his touch lingered on her skin, grounding her in the present moment. Nathan pulled back, his hand dropping to his side. He didn''t pry further, respecting her unspoken boundaries. "I believe you," he repeated softly. "Don''t worry." And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, frozen in place. Kassandra watched his retreating figure, her heart swelling with emotions she couldn''t name. For the first time in years¡ªyears filled with scorn and isolation because of her curse¡ªshe felt comforted. Truly comforted. And for the first time, she dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn''t as alone as she had always believed. Chapter 237 Nathans Divine rewards! "It is an honor to meet you, Lord Heiron!" Shortly after parting ways with Kassandra, another young woman appeared before me, radiating an air of youth and vivacity. Her name, if I recalled correctly, was Polyxena. She was Kassandra''s younger sister, and though she shared Kassandra''s striking beauty, there was a notable difference in their demeanor. Polyxena exuded a bright, cheerful energy that contrasted sharply with her older sister''s somber and burdened disposition. I tried to search my memory for any mention of her in the myths I knew, but nothing definitive surfaced. I chose to nod politely, keeping my thoughts to myself. "Likewise, Princess," I said courteously, maintaining the reserved poise befitting the situation. Her eyes sparkled with uncontained enthusiasm as she spoke. "You were truly amazing. Beating Ajax like that... such strength!" "I merely did the job I was paid for," I replied humbly, lowering my gaze slightly to downplay the compliment. "You''re being far too modest!" Polyxena giggled, the sound light and carefree. Before I could respond, she leaned forward, her soft breath grazing my cheek, and placed a gentle kiss just beside my lips. The action startled me, and I couldn''t help but look at her, wide-eyed. Her expression was one of innocent mischief, yet beneath it lay a genuine warmth. "Please," she said, her tone suddenly serious, "continue to protect my city and its people." With that, she turned and left, her graceful figure disappearing into the crowd before I could say a word. I glanced around, noticing a few onlookers who had witnessed the brief exchange. For a moment, I braced myself for murmurs or judgment¡ªafter all, a princess showing such affection to a foreigner could easily cause a stir. But to my surprise, no one seemed to object. Instead, I caught Hector''s gaze across the room, and he simply smiled knowingly, as if he had anticipated something like this. The evening continued, but I found myself restless. After an hour of mingling with the Trojans at the feast, I decided it was time to leave. I had spoken to most of the city''s nobles and warriors by then, all of whom offered their blessings or kind words. All, that is, except Paris. Throughout the feast, Paris had been shooting me annoyed glances from across the room. His disdain was almost palpable, though he lacked the courage to voice it outright. I couldn''t understand his animosity entirely, but if I had to guess, I''d attribute it to jealousy. It was a foolish emotion, really. If he desired the admiration of the Trojans, he had ample opportunity to earn it. But instead of fighting alongside his people at the front lines, Paris seemed content to remain in the shadow of Helen of Troy, the woman whose beauty had sparked this catastrophic war. To be fair, Helen''s beauty was unparalleled¡ªher title as the most beautiful mortal woman on Earth was no exaggeration. Even I couldn''t deny her allure. But beauty alone didn''t excuse Paris from his responsibilities. As a prince of Troy, his duty was to his city and its people. Yet he shirked these responsibilities, leaving them to others¡ªHector, Kassandra, and the soldiers on the battlefield. Artemis''s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded in agreement. "All right. If that''s what you wish." "Gahaha! I will give you one as well! Rejoice!" Ares bellowed, his laughter echoing once more before he vanished without further ceremony. "I''ll see what I can offer," Aphrodite added, her words laced with a vague, almost teasing undertone. She lingered for a moment longer, her eyes meeting mine meaningfully, before she too disappeared. Just as I turned to leave, believing the encounter was over, Artemis''s voice stopped me. "Oh, yes, Heiron." I pivoted, meeting her gaze. Her merciless emerald eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. There was no trace of the faint smile from earlier. Her expression was pure steel. "If you touch Atalanta," she said softly, her voice a whisper that carried like a blade slicing through the stillness, "I will kill you." The killing intent radiating from her was suffocating, sending a chill down my spine. Her words left no room for misinterpretation. This wasn''t a threat; it was a promise. And then, in the blink of an eye, she vanished. I stood alone in the void for a moment, my thoughts racing. Artemis was not the goddess she appeared to be at first glance¡ªnot by any stretch. Her words lingered in my mind, a stark reminder of the fine line I walked. While I liked quite a lot Atalanta, I had no intention of provoking Artemis. The last thing I needed was to add another goddess to the growing list of divine beings I''d rather avoid crossing in the middle of a war. Shaking my head, I willed myself back to the mortal realm. I found myself back on my bed, but something felt off. A weight pressed down on me, unfamiliar yet unmistakably deliberate. My senses slowly returned, and as I blinked the lingering haze of the divine realm from my eyes, a fiery voice broke the silence. "You finally woke up?" My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and the sight that greeted me was both breathtaking and alarming. Penthesilea, the Amazonian queen herself, was sitting atop me¡ªcompletely bare, her bronzed skin glistening faintly under the moonlight that seeped through the cracks in the shutters. Her untamed hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her piercing eyes glowed with predatory intent, locked onto mine. I froze, my mind racing to process the situation. Her lips curved into a sultry, knowing smile as she leaned forward, her warmth radiating against me. The air between us seemed to crackle with her sheer presence. "Now," she purred, her voice low and demanding, "give me your strong seed." Chapter 238 Eating the Amazons Queen (1) * Penthesilea, the Amazonian queen herself, was sitting atop me¡ªcompletely bare, her bronzed skin glistening faintly under the moonlight that seeped through the cracks in the shutters. Her untamed hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her piercing eyes glowed with predatory intent, locked onto mine. I froze, my mind racing to process the situation. Her lips curved into a sultry, knowing smile as she leaned forward, her warmth radiating against me. The air between us seemed to crackle with her sheer presence. "Now," she purred, her voice low and demanding, "give me your strong seed." "Strong seed?" I echoed, my tone tinged with disbelief, though the constant surprises of this world had dulled my ability to be truly astonished. The queen of the Amazons herself, Penthesilea, was unabashedly asking me to father her child. If this had happened to me when I first arrived in this strange reality, I might have been stunned. But now? It was just another bizarre chapter in my life. Why were so many women around me suddenly obsessed with having a baby? Amelia had whispered her desires in hushed tones during our secret night together, hidden from the watchful eyes of classmates and students. Aisha, too, had begged for the same after our most recent, intimate encounter. Even Khillea¡ªthe mysterious woman I''d met in Achilles'' tent¡ªhad subtly hinted at her intentions. And now, Penthesilea. The pattern was undeniable, and yet, no less perplexing. "Yes," Penthesilea said with a mischievous grin, leaning against me. The warmth of her bare body seeped through my clothes as her soft, full breasts pressed lightly against my chest. Her nipples grazed my tunic, making her intent crystal clear. She wasn''t shy, nor hesitant, and carried herself with the confident allure of a warrior accustomed to taking what she wanted. Her beauty was captivating, yet not dainty. It was raw and fierce, like a weapon forged in the heat of battle. Her curves¡ªespecially her ample chest¡ªstood in stark contrast to her agile, lightning-fast movements on the battlefield. Amazingly, her body didn''t seem hindered by them at all. "We Amazons are all women," she explained, her flushed cheeks betraying just a hint of embarrassment. "To continue our legacy, to pass on our bloodline, we must reproduce. For centuries, we''ve sought out the strongest men¡ªworthy men. Some we take by force; others come willingly. Either way, no man would say no to a night with an Amazon, would they?" Her words carried a teasing lilt, but her golden eyes held an intense seriousness beneath the playfulness. Her explanation intrigued me. It was more than just biology; it was tradition and survival intertwined. "What happens if a boy is born?" I asked, keeping my voice calm and even, despite her closeness. Penthesilea tilted her head, seemingly amused by my question. "Hmm? A fair question. If it''s a boy, he will marry a strong Amazon and give us children until a girl is born. However..." Her eyes narrowed playfully, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips. "Not all men are capable of keeping up with us. Few can match our zeal, on the battlefield or in bed~." Experience new stories on empire Her eyes snapped open, a fire igniting behind them as she growled, "You''ll regret that." With renewed fervor, her hand on my cock tightened, stroking harder and faster, her movements almost punishing. The friction sent sparks of pleasure racing through me, and I couldn''t help the groan that escaped my lips. My resolve gave way entirely, and in one swift move, I grabbed her by the waist and flipped her down onto the bed beneath me. She let out a startled cry, her hair splaying out like a dark halo against the sheets. "What are you¡ª!" she began, but I cut her off, pinning her hands above her head with one hand and using the other to grip her thigh, spreading her legs apart. "I''m taking charge," I said, lowering my voice to a growl. My gaze raked over her, from the defiance blazing in her eyes to the way her chest heaved with each ragged breath. "You''ll beg me for more before this is over." "You arrogant bastard!" Penthesilea snarled, her muscles tensing as if preparing to throw me off. But I was faster, pressing my body against hers, pinning her completely. My cock, now fully hard, pressed against her, and despite her protests, a flush spread across her cheeks. "Admit it," I whispered against her ear, letting the head of my shaft brush teasingly against her. "You want this just as much as I do." Her hips bucked involuntarily, and for a split second, her fierce mask slipped, replaced by something raw and unguarded. Then it was back, and she bared her teeth. "Never." "Then I''ll make you," I said, pushing her legs wider. Her resistance only made the tension between us thicker, the air crackling with challenge and unspoken desire. Penthesilea''s defiance burned in her eyes, a wild glint of pride refusing to dim even as she strained against me. She wasn''t trying to stop me because she''d had second thoughts; no, her Amazonian pride wouldn''t allow submission. To her, control was a birthright, a queen''s privilege. Her body, taut with muscle and grace, fought not just me, but the idea of yielding to anyone. Her resistance was a tempest, feral and consuming. She twisted, her breath heaving, every sinew of her powerful frame straining as she sought to reverse our positions. But I wasn''t about to yield either. Her efforts only fueled my resolve. I surged forward, channeling strength into every motion, pinning her beneath me. "B...Bastard!" she spat, fury spilling over her trembling lips, her voice edged with disbelief. Her eyes widened, incandescent with indignation that I had overpowered her. I couldn''t help but smirk at her reaction, her rage a perfect mirror to her frustration. "Now, let''s make this interesting." Chapter 239 Eating the Amazons Queen (2) * I couldn''t help but smirk at her reaction, her rage a perfect mirror to her frustration. "Now, let''s make this interesting," I taunted, my voice dripping with anticipation. My hand pressed firmly against her flat, sculpted stomach, the heat of her body scorching my palm. She squirmed beneath my grip, her every movement desperate, wild. "It will hurt more if you struggle, Penthesilea," I warned, my tone dark, teasing. Her gaze locked onto mine, her cheeks flushed crimson¡ªwhether from anger or something deeper, she''d never admit. "Let go of me!" she snarled, her voice a symphony of shame and wrath. "I won''t accept this humiliation!" Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palms, as if sheer will alone would free her. Her protest only heightened the thrill, a spark igniting something primal within me. I shifted, positioning myself, the heat of her body calling to mine. Slowly, deliberately, I aligned myself with her entrance. The slick resistance of her untouched core was a reminder of her defiance, of the walls I was about to breach. Her entire body tensed as I pressed forward. Her gasp was sharp, torn from her throat as I claimed her. "Nnghhh!!" The sound burst from her lips unbidden, her eyes flying wide as pain rippled through her. It was a sound that spoke of disbelief, a warrior unprepared for this new battlefield. She had braved countless wounds in combat, her body a temple of scars and strength. But this? This pain reached depths no blade could touch, tearing through the armor she had spent a lifetime building. I surged deeper, feeling her tense around me, unyielding at first. Her virginity gave way, a threshold crossed, her breath hitching as her body betrayed her. "Hghn!" she hissed, biting down hard on her lip, trying to contain the storm of emotions swelling within her. Her body was a battlefield, muscles quivering beneath the strain, her skin flushed with the heat of exertion and something more. The sheen of sweat on her brow glistened, catching the dim light as her breaths grew shallow. The fire in her eyes dimmed, flickering between rage, disbelief, and an unspoken vulnerability. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a rhythm that matched the frantic pace of her heart. "You...bastard," she whispered again, but the venom in her voice was laced with something else now¡ªa waver, a hesitation. Her body began to respond despite her will, the tension in her muscles melting under the heat coursing through her veins. Her resistance, once fierce, faltered as the sensations overwhelmed her, rendering her silent but for the occasional ragged gasp. Penthesilea''s bronzed skin gleamed with sweat, each bead tracing the curves of her body, glistening as though the gods themselves had sculpted her. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving, and her eyes locked on mine, a mixture of defiance and surrender swimming in their depths. "You want a baby?" I growled, my voice rough with raw desire and authority, each word dripping with power as I thrust deep inside her. "Then take the responsibility!" The force of my hips drove her slender frame into the furs beneath us. Penthesilea arched her back with a strangled groan, her lips parting in an almost silent cry. "Ngh??!!" she gasped, her voice trembling with both pain and burgeoning pleasure. Her toes curled tightly, betraying the internal war she was fighting. Her body strained, a fortress unwilling to yield, yet every movement of her hips betrayed her longing. Slowly, inevitably, the pleasure began to overshadow the sting, and her resistance faltered. Her waist moved of its own accord, grinding against mine, urging me deeper. I smirked at her futile attempt to maintain control¡ªher first misstep in a battle she would inevitably lose. My hands slid down, gripping her firm ass, the muscles tensing beneath my fingertips as I lifted her effortlessly. Her light brown legs trembled before I raised them, resting them over my shoulders. The new angle exposed her completely to me, and I drove into her harder, the slickness of her arousal guiding every powerful thrust. Continue reading stories on empire Her soft moans were muffled against my shoulder, her arms like steel chains wrapped around my neck, her legs still trembling from the relentless pace I had set. Yet, her body didn''t waver¡ªstill pliant, still hungry. The sensation of her tight, dripping heat gripping me through the fabric of my trousers was maddening, her grinding making me groan, my cock straining against the confining cloth. I growled low, the sound rumbling from deep in my chest as I hooked my hands under her thighs, lifting her further up as though she weighed nothing. Her hazy eyes widened, barely able to focus, but the trust¡ªno, the reckless surrender¡ªin them was unmistakable. Without a word, I carried her and slammed her back against the cold stone wall. THUUUD! The impact echoed through the chamber, the wall trembling under the force of it. Her startled gasp morphed into a long, wanton moan, her head tipping back as the sudden jolt pushed me deeper into her. "Haaaaaan!" Penthesilea cried out, her voice tinged with surprise and ecstasy. The abrupt angle change drove my cock to brush a spot inside her that made her body jolt, her hips twitching instinctively to press harder against me. Her pussy clenched with renewed fervor, and I could feel the wetness dripping down, soaking the fabric between us. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and she whimpered, her lips parting in a mix of confusion and surrender. I didn''t care as I began to fuck her against the wall. Each thrust was hard, deliberate, the motion slamming her back into the unforgiving surface behind her. The vibrations rippled through her body, her moans growing louder with every stroke. "HAAAN! HMMGH! HAAAN! SOOO GOOOD!!" Penthesilea''s cries echoed off the walls, filling the room with the music of her surrender. Her proud Amazonian strength had melted into raw, unfiltered need. The power she usually wielded so easily now radiated from me, each thrust a testament to my dominance. The royal guest room was already in chaos¡ªfurs and pillows tossed haphazardly, the faint scent of sex thick in the air. The heady perfume of her arousal mixed with the musk of my exertion, creating an intoxicating fog that clouded all reason. The room itself seemed to bow to the heat between us, the ornate carvings on the walls a blur in the haze of our unrelenting passion. Penthesilea''s breath hitched suddenly, her body stiffening as she arched against me. "C-Cumming!!!" she screamed, her voice breaking into desperate gasps as her climax overtook her. Her thighs clenched around my waist, holding me in place as her pussy spasmed around my cock, soaking me with her release. I smirked at the way she clung to me, her face buried in the crook of my neck, her warm breath brushing against my skin in erratic bursts. "Haaa??... haaan??... aaaahhh??..." Her soft, erotic panting sent a shiver down my spine as she rested her forehead on my shoulder, utterly spent. "Did you like it?" I whispered, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. My voice was low, teasing, but laced with a satisfaction that was undeniable. Her head tilted slightly, her damp hair sticking to her flushed skin as she managed a weak, breathy response. "Y...yeah..." The word was barely a whisper, her voice cracking under the weight of her exhaustion. Yet even in her vulnerability, there was a small, awkward grin playing at the corners of her lips¡ªa fragile remnant of her once-indomitable pride. But I wasn''t done. Not even close. My cock still throbbed with need, and the sight of the Amazon Queen¡ªdisheveled, trembling, and utterly overwhelmed¡ªonly spurred me further. "I expect more from the Amazon Queen." Chapter 240 Eating the Amazons Queen (3) * "I expect more from the Amazon Queen," I growled into her ear, the words laced with both challenge and promise. Before she could muster a reply, I took her earlobe between my teeth, biting down just hard enough to draw a gasp from her swollen lips. "Haaaan! Whaa..." Her words were cut off as I moved, her confusion giving way to a startled cry. With a single, fluid motion, I pulled away from the wall and threw her onto the bed. She landed in a tangle of limbs and damp sheets, her hair splayed like a river against the pale linens. Her body arched instinctively, the muscles in her abdomen quivering as she adjusted to the sudden change in position. The dazed look in her eyes only made my grin widen as I crawled over her, my shadow engulfing her completely. Her legs fell open on instinct, her trembling thighs slick with the evidence of her pleasure. "We''re not finished, Penthesilea," I purred, my voice a deep rumble as I positioned myself above her. Her breath hitched, her chest heaving, and the flicker of realization in her eyes sent a thrill through me. I gripped once more her hips firmly, my fingers digging into her soft skin, and thrust deeper, feeling her walls tighten and pulse around me like they were made to fit my length. She gasped, her nails clawing at the sheets, and her head tilted back, a cascade of blond hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her moans were breathy, filled with a mix of surprise and insatiable desire. "Nghh! You''re too much!" Penthesilea''s voice cracked, her thighs trembling as she struggled between resistance and surrender, her words betraying her body''s cravings. "Too much?" I rasped against her ear, licking the shell slowly before biting down lightly, enough to make her yelp. "You''ll take everything. Every inch. Every drop. This is just the start." Her hips bucked instinctively, meeting me with desperation. Her caramel-toned skin glistened under the dim lights, each thrust sending ripples through her body, her breasts bouncing in rhythm with the ferocity of our coupling. My pace increased, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing alongside her increasingly frantic moans. "Haaah! FUCK ME HARDER!!! ? she pleaded, her nails now scratching across my forearms as she gave up trying to contain herself. Her legs wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me closer, deeper. The wet squelch of her arousal coating me sent shivers down my spine. "Fuck, you''re so wet," I growled, one hand sliding down to cup her ass, spreading her wider so I could bury myself even further. The way she responded¡ªher back arching, her toes curling¡ªwas enough to push my control to the brink. "Yesss," she hissed, her voice dripping with unrestrained hunger. "Fill me up. I want everything." Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from biting down to muffle her cries. "Of course!" "HAAAN! HAAAN! YES! MORE!" Her screams filled the room as I pounded her into the mattress, her body shaking with each forceful thrust. The bed creaked beneath us, the intensity of our movements threatening to collapse it entirely. She writhed, sweat pooling between her breasts, her lips forming incoherent words of pleading and praise. Seeing her close to her climax, I grasped her arm and turned her around forcefully. "Get on all fours." "Wha..ughn!!" My grip on her arm remained firm as I turned her, her protests drowned by her own helpless cries as my fingers grazed her swollen clit. "Get on all fours," I commanded, my voice edged with hunger. His words reverberated through the tent, striking each man as a cruel reminder of their shattered pride. Ajax the King of Salamis was no longer there. Heracles, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow in the dim light, broke the silence. "Jason fell as well," he said bluntly, his deep voice tinged with frustration. "He was too arrogant for his own good," Diomedes remarked, shaking his head in disapproval. His tone was calm but laced with bitterness. "Charging at that man so soon after he''d killed Ajax...what did he expect?" Jason''s defeat did not surprise them; he had always been more audacious than prudent. But Ajax¡ªmighty Ajax¡ªwas a different matter entirely. His loss was a devastating blow, a wound that cut deeply into their morale. "Who the hell is that new guy?" Menelaus finally demanded, his brows furrowed in anger and confusion. The question that had been simmering in everyone''s minds was now voiced. Odysseus leaned back and folded his arms, his sharp eyes narrowing as he recalled what little he knew. "A mercenary," he said. "From another continent, if the rumors are true." His gaze grew distant as he remembered the brief, chilling glimpse he''d had of the man. Though not as physically imposing as Ajax, the stranger had exuded a fearsome presence¡ªone that made even seasoned warriors hesitate. "This...Heiron is exceedingly dangerous," Nestor cautioned, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "He killed Ajax. Treat him with the same caution you would Hector himself." Heracles frowned, his powerful hands clenching into fists. "Should we call Achilles back?" he asked, his deep voice heavy with reluctance. Normally, he would avoid such a suggestion¡ªit would wound Agamemnon''s pride¡ªbut the situation was dire. The man who killed Ajax...he felt certain he knew him. A shadow of doubt lingered in his mind, however, for this warrior seemed different. Was it truly him? As expected, Agamemnon''s glare was icy, his pride wounded by the mere suggestion. Odysseus sighed audibly, his clever mind already working on a solution. He could see the despair spreading like a plague among the warriors. Something had to be done to restore their spirits, and he had an idea¡ªone he''d been keeping in reserve. Explore more stories with empire "We must summon Chiron and Asclepius," he declared, his voice cutting through the murmur of uncertainty. Gasps filled the room as the significance of his words sank in. Chiron, the revered centaur and legendary teacher of heroes like Achilles, Diomedes and Heracles. Asclepius, also the divine healer¡ªcalling upon them would shift the tide. Agamemnon''s eyes narrowed. "You know where Chiron is?" he asked, his tone sharp with suspicion. Chiron''s disappearance had been a sore point for the Greeks. Despite his unparalleled wisdom and skill, he had remained elusive, frustrating their attempts to secure his aid. Odysseus met Agamemnon''s gaze unflinchingly. "I do," he admitted. "I promised to keep his location secret, but we have no choice now." Diomedes didn''t seem certain. "Do you think he will fight for us?" A small, knowing smile played on Odysseus'' lips. "He will," he said with confidence. "At heart, Chiron cares deeply for Greece. Asclepius, too, owes us his allegiance." Heracles, however, remained skeptical. "But Asclepius is the son of Apollo. What if he turns on us and joins the Trojans?" "You underestimate his love for our people," Odysseus replied firmly. "And he is indebted to me personally. Trust me, there is no cause for concern." The tension in the room eased, if only slightly. With Chiron''s wisdom and Asclepius'' healing, the Greeks would have powerful new allies to replace the losses of Ajax and Jason. For now, hope glimmered faintly in the gloom of their camp. Chapter 241 Heras angry! While the Trojans reveled in their hard-won victory, toasting to the downfall of Ajax and the prowess of their mysterious champion, the Greek kings were locked in grim discussions, mourning the loss of one of their mightiest warriors. Yet, amidst the mortal realm''s turbulence, the realm of the gods was a cauldron of seething tempers and barely-contained chaos. Zeus, the King of the Olympus Gods, sat upon his golden throne with a furrowed brow, his gaze fixed upon the quarrels erupting before him. His usual aura of omnipotence was shadowed by a rare display of contemplation, for he knew the storm brewing in Olympus could have far-reaching consequences. The throne room, vast and opulent with its gleaming marble floors and gilded columns, trembled with the force of divine voices. "Where did you find this little bastard?!" Hera''s voice rang like thunder, her words slicing through the tension-laden air. Her fiery glare was fixed upon Aphrodite, who maintained her composure with a maddeningly serene smile. The goddess of love and beauty, draped in flowing robes that shimmered like the dawn, seemed unperturbed by Hera''s wrath. Yet, the tightness of her lips betrayed a hint of strain. "Whatever could you mean, dear Hera?" Aphrodite replied with feigned innocence, her laugh tinkling like a gentle chime. She daintily covered her mouth with a perfectly manicured hand, a performance of ignorance that only served to further enrage Hera. "Do not play coy with me, Aphrodite!" Hera''s tone escalated, her voice shaking the very heavens. "I am speaking of the man who killed Ajax! You cannot expect me to believe he is merely some random mercenary plucked from obscurity by Priam. No! I am certain you are the one who brought him here!" Hera''s accusation echoed throughout the chamber, drawing the attention of every god present. Dionysus, lounging lazily on a chaise and sipping from a goblet of divine wine, smirked with unbridled amusement. He lived for moments like this¡ªquarrels among the gods always provided him with endless entertainment. He took another leisurely sip, his eyes glinting mischievously as he observed the spectacle. Hermes, standing at Zeus''s side, wore a knowing smile. The messenger of the gods had an air of detachment, as though he were privy to secrets beyond the grasp of most deities. And indeed, he was. Hermes alone, besides Aphrodite, truly understood the enigma that was Heiron. For the likes of Artemis and Ares, Heiron was perhaps a gifted mercenary, a weapon honed by Aphrodite to further her schemes. But Hermes knew better. Heiron was no ordinary warrior. He was the bearer of a dark magic¡ªa power hauntingly reminiscent of the Demon King who once terrorized the Light Continent and the current Lord Commander of Tenebria. This revelation filled Hermes with an electrifying thrill. He had watched the battle between Heiron and Ajax with rapt attention, marveling at the display of raw strength, tactical brilliance, and unfathomable power. To Hermes, Heiron was an unparalleled spectacle, a harbinger of excitement in a world that had grown predictable. Aphrodite, meanwhile, maintained her charade, her composure unbroken despite the growing hostility. "Hera, darling, your accusations are as baseless as they are dramatic," she said smoothly. "Why must you always look for conspiracies where there are none?" Hera''s eyes flared with divine fury, her fists clenching. "Do not mock me, Aphrodite! That man''s power¡ªhis aura¡ªit reeks of your meddling. Admit it! You blessed him! And he knows Celestial Magic!" Zeus finally stirred, raising a hand to silence the escalating argument. His voice, deep and commanding, filled the hall. "Enough, both of you." The gods fell silent, their eyes turning toward their king. "This discord serves no purpose. If Heiron is as dangerous as Hera claims, then his presence among the Trojans warrants our attention." Dionysus chuckled softly, earning a sharp glance from Zeus. "Forgive me, father," he said, raising his goblet in mock deference. "But watching these arguments is far more entertaining than any mortal drama." "This is no laughing matter," Zeus admonished, his tone sharp. Turning to Aphrodite, he added, "If you have brought this warrior into the fold, you will answer for it. But for now, we must focus on the consequences of his actions." Hermes, ever the opportunist, decided to remain silent. He had no intention of revealing the truth about Heiron. The chaos and intrigue surrounding the warrior were far too delicious to spoil. For now, he would keep his secrets, watching eagerly as the drama unfolded. The air in the grand hall of Olympus grew heavy as the tension thickened. Zeus''s commanding presence on his throne was matched by his sharp gaze, which moved from one deity to another. He sat with a posture of neutrality, though his furrowed brow betrayed the brewing storm within him. Artemis broke the silence, her voice crisp and laced with suspicion. "What consequences, Father?" She narrowed her silver eyes, a challenge glinting in them. "I thought you vowed neutrality in this conflict?" "Looks like you''re all having quite the party here," a smooth, commanding voice interrupted the heated exchange. All heads turned toward the grand white doors of the hall, which creaked open as water rippled across the threshold. A tall, strikingly handsome man stepped forward, his presence as vast and unyielding as the sea. His flowing blue hair shimmered like ocean waves, and his piercing fire-blue eyes radiated both mirth and menace. An amused smile played on his lips, but the immense power emanating from him was undeniable, rivaling even Zeus''s own. "Poseidon..." Zeus''s deep voice rumbled as he addressed the newcomer. "You''ve returned." "And I see you didn''t find Khione," Hera remarked, her tone sharp and mocking. Poseidon chuckled as he ran a hand through his still-damp hair. "Is that how you greet me, dear sister, after summoning me so urgently?" His voice was laced with amusement, though the sharp undertone couldn''t be missed. "You summoned him?" Artemis''s voice was cold as her eyes bore into Hera. Hera''s lips curled into a smirk, her satisfaction evident. Aphrodite''s unease grew, her instincts warning her that something was amiss. Poseidon strode further into the hall, his steps deliberate and unhurried. "Yes, I''ve returned because my dear sister insisted I come. It seems..." He paused, letting the silence draw out for effect, "...some little piece of filth killed my son, Jason. As a father, it''s only natural that I take action." Despite his words, Poseidon''s tone carried no grief, only a chilling indifference, as though the loss of his son was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Gods are forbidden from directly interfering in the mortal world," Zeus reminded him, his voice firm and authoritative. "Of course, brother," Poseidon replied smoothly, his smile widening. "I wouldn''t dream of breaking the sacred laws of Olympus. But rest assured, I can still ensure that... dog... meets his end." Zeus''s expression darkened, and the room seemed to hold its collective breath. "You mean..." Hermes''s eyes widened as realization struck him. Poseidon turned to him, nodding with a mischievous smile. Experience tales at empire "I''m taking the Greeks'' side." Chapter 242 New Enemies! The cries of fury and vengeance rang out across the battlefield, their fervor echoing amidst the cacophony of war. "It''s him, Heiron!" "Kill that bastard!" "Revenge for Ajax!" The plains before the city of Troy were once again embroiled in chaos, a relentless storm of steel, blood, and cries of valor. Weeks had passed since Nathan¡ªnow feared and loathed by the Greeks¡ªhad slain Ajax and Jason. Their deaths had sent shockwaves through the Greek camp. Heiron, as Nathan was known among them, was no longer just a formidable adversary; he had become a living nightmare, a name uttered with the same caution and reverence reserved for Hector himself. The Greeks, however, were not a people easily cowed. Spartans, Athenians, and warriors from countless other city-states had gathered, driven by a shared lust for battle and glory. They were heirs to the tales of their gods and heroes, and each man sought to carve his name into the annals of legend. To them, defeating Heiron was no longer just a military objective; it was a test of their mettle, a path to immortality. Thus, Nathan found himself not only fighting Hector''s war but also enduring the relentless assaults of men desperate to etch their names in history. A group of Greeks, their armor gleaming despite the grime of battle, encircled Nathan with triumphant smirks. "We''ve got him now!" one of them crowed, his voice brimming with overconfidence. Nathan stood calmly at the center of the encroaching circle, his icy blue eyes scanning their faces without a trace of fear. He adjusted his grip on his sword, its blade gleaming unnaturally under the sunlight, as if imbued with a cold light of its own. With a single, almost lazy swing, frost exploded outward. The warriors'' confident expressions froze in place¡ªliterally. In mere moments, they were transformed into statues of ice, their final expressions preserved in chilling detail. Another swing shattered the frozen soldiers, sending shards of ice scattering like glass. The sound of their destruction was a grim symphony, and the warriors behind them hesitated, their advance faltering. Yet, emboldened by desperation or madness, more surged forward. One soldier leapt at Nathan from behind, his spear poised to strike. Nathan sensed the movement but did not turn. Before he could act, an arrow whistled through the air, piercing the attacker''s skull with unerring precision. The soldier''s lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his ambition extinguished in an instant. Nathan glanced back briefly, his gaze meeting Atalanta''s. She stood a few paces away, her bow drawn, her stance poised and elegant even amidst the chaos. Her sharp eyes flicked to Nathan, and she offered him a small, almost imperceptible nod. He returned the gesture, then turned back to the fray without a word. The understanding between them required no elaboration. "Are you already tired, Heiron?" Aeneas''s voice rang out, cutting through the din. The young Trojan prince wore a teasing grin as he parried an opponent''s strike with ease. "Aren''t you the one who''s tired, Aeneas?" Sarpedon''s laugh echoed as he drove his spear through a Greek soldier. "Focus, or you might end up joining Ajax!" "No way I''m heading to Tartaros like him!" Aeneas shot back, his tone half-joking but tinged with a hint of unease. The mention of Ajax''s fate sent a ripple through those within earshot. The Greeks knew well that Ajax, despite his might, had committed countless atrocities. His soul was destined for the deepest pits of the underworld, a grim warning to all who fought without honor. Nathan shook his head at their banter, even as he continued dispatching enemies with calculated efficiency. It was almost absurd how they could bicker in the midst of battle, but their camaraderie brought a rare, fleeting lightness to the otherwise grim proceedings. It was, perhaps, a reminder of why they fought, a flicker of humanity amidst the carnage. Not that Nathan worried about their survival. Both Aeneas and Sarpedon had grown considerably stronger over the past months. Their skill and resilience were the result of grueling training, much of it under Nathan''s own guidance. At Aphrodite''s insistence, he had taken Aeneas under his wing, and Sarpedon had eagerly joined. Their sessions had been intense, and though Nathan had initially agreed out of obligation, he had come to view Sarpedon as a friend. Hector, too, had often participated when his princely duties allowed, along with Atalanta, whose sharp wit and sharper arrows made her an invaluable ally. Nathan''s pulse quickened. Aeneas was strong, undeniably so, but even his strength wouldn''t suffice against an attack of this magnitude. If he took the brunt of it, he wouldn''t survive. "I''m leaving this to you, Hector!" Nathan called out without waiting for a reply. With a thunderous crack, he launched himself off the ground, moving at a speed that left the earth trembling beneath his feet. His form blurred as he raced toward Aeneas, determined to intervene before it was too late. But even Nathan wasn''t fast enough. BADAM! The air erupted with a deafening sound as the attack was released. It was an arrow¡ªgleaming with an ethereal light, surging forward with devastating force. Its speed was unnatural, impossible to track with human eyes. In the blink of an eye, the arrow closed the distance, bearing down on Aeneas with unrelenting precision. At the last moment, Charybdis appeared shoving Aeneas aside. Her protective instincts had kicked in, and she prepared to shield him with her own body to fulfil Nathan''s request. "Charybdis, don''t!" Nathan roared. He could sense the destructive power imbued in the arrow. While Charybdis was formidable, even she wasn''t impervious to such an attack. The risk was too great of revealing her true self. Find more chapters on empire Before she could fully position herself, another figure appeared¡ªa blur of motion cutting across the battlefield. It was Sarpedon. With a guttural yell, Sarpedon swung his sword in a mighty arc, unleashing a powerful shockwave aimed at deflecting the arrow. The force of his attack rippled through the air, but it was like a candle before a storm. The arrow tore through the shockwave effortlessly, its path unbroken. Sarpedon''s sword shattered in his hands as the arrow struck him square in the chest. The impact sent him hurtling backward, his body flying hundreds of meters before crashing into the ground with a sickening thud. BAADAAM! "Sarpedon!!" Aeneas''s cry tore through the battlefield. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with panic, and sprinted toward his fallen comrade. Nathan reached the scene moments later, dropping to his knees beside Sarpedon''s crumpled form. He checked for a pulse, his fingers brushing against Sarpedon''s neck. "No..." Nathan whispered. The arrow had pierced Sarpedon''s chest with terrifying precision, striking his heart. His lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, a silent testament to the strength and courage he had displayed in his final moments. "Dead." Chapter 243 Chiron enters! "What are you doing, Zeus?!" Hera''s voice rang out, sharply, echoing through the halls of Olympus. Her gold eyes flashed with anger as she stepped forward, her regal form tense and unyielding. Zeus stood at the edge of the divine balcony, his imposing figure illuminated by the flickering light of the storm he had conjured. His lightning bolt was raised high, its brilliance illuminating his contorted face, which was twisted with fury. Below, chaos reigned on the battlefield of Troy. Yet all Zeus could see was the lifeless body of his son, Sarpedon, sprawled on the blood-soaked earth. His vision blurred with a mixture of rage and grief. "Zeus!" Hera shouted again, her voice cutting through the storm. "Have you lost your mind?!" Zeus flinched but did not turn. His hand trembled as he gripped his lightning bolt tighter, the air crackling with its deadly energy. His anger boiled over, a rare and fearsome sight even for the gods. The cause of his fury was undeniable. Sarpedon¡ªhis son, his noble, good-natured son¡ªhad been struck down in a cowardly ambush. Zeus''s heart ached in a way it hadn''t in centuries. Among all his mortal offspring, Sarpedon had been special. Unlike many of his other children, who had inherited his pride and ambition, Sarpedon had embodied virtues Zeus admired yet rarely possessed himself: kindness, honor, and humility. When Ajax, his grandson, had died, Zeus had barely spared a thought. But this¡ªthis was different. "You are the one who decreed that we, the gods, are forbidden to interfere in mortal affairs," Hera hissed, her tone laced with venom. She crossed her arms, her elaborate robes shimmering like the evening sky. "And yet now, you think yourself above your own laws? Are you so hypocritical that you would make exceptions for yourself?" Her words struck a nerve, and Zeus''s grip on the lightning bolt tightened further. The blade of pure energy hummed ominously, the storm around him growing fiercer. Hera watched him closely, her face a mask of righteous indignation. Yet deep inside, she felt a wicked satisfaction bubbling up. Sarpedon''s death was a strategic victory for the Greeks, and Hera had long favored their side in this endless war. With one of Troy''s most critical commanders gone, the scales of war tipped further in her favor. Your journey continues on empire She couldn''t deny the joy she felt at the sight of Zeus''s anguish. It was rare for him to show such emotion for his mortal progeny, and this moment of weakness was one she would savor. Zeus finally exhaled, a deep and shuddering sound that seemed to carry the weight of his grief. Slowly, he lowered his lightning bolt. The storm began to subside, though the tension in the air lingered. "Rest well, my son..." Zeus muttered, his deep voice laced with sorrow. His usually imperious expression softened into one of pain as he cast a final glance toward Sarpedon''s lifeless body. Hera tilted her head, studying him. For a fleeting moment, she almost felt pity. Almost. Her gaze returned to the battlefield below. The clash of swords and cries of war had halted. Both the Trojans and the Greeks stood frozen, their eyes fixed on Sarpedon''s corpse. The once-proud prince lay in a pool of his own blood, his face pale and lifeless. The silence was deafening. Even the gods themselves seemed to hold their breath. "Perfect," Hera whispered to herself, a sly smirk curling her lips. Her heart swelled with satisfaction. The Trojans were stunned into inaction, their morale shattered.No?v(el)B\\jnn And now, her chosen piece would move. "Chiron," she thought, her gaze narrowing as it settled on the centaur below. The legendary teacher and warrior stood at the ready, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the battlefield. "He''ll finish the job. He''ll rid the world of the rest of these fools." ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Nathan reached the scene moments later, dropping to his knees beside Sarpedon''s crumpled form. He checked for a pulse, his fingers brushing against Sarpedon''s neck. "No..." Nathan whispered. The arrow had pierced Sarpedon''s chest with terrifying precision, striking his heart. His lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, a silent testament to the strength and courage he had displayed in his final moments. "Dead." "What?" Aeneas stammered, his voice faltering as he stared at Nathan in utter disbelief. His eyes widened, a mixture of denial and dread flashing across his features. His entire body trembled as though his legs could barely support him. "I... It can''t be... Heiron, check again," Aeneas muttered, his voice barely audible, laced with a hollow, almost hysterical laugh. His words hung in the air, heavy with desperation. It was Aeneas. Again. The Trojan prince, still carrying the lifeless body of Sarpedon, was Chiron''s target. Nathan''s sharp hearing picked up a furious voice echoing from above. "I will kill him!" It was Aphrodite, her rage palpable as she hovered invisibly over the battlefield. Her pink hair streamed like sunlight, and her radiant beauty was overshadowed by the sheer fury in her expression. She radiated divine power, her fists clenched, ready to rip Chiron apart herself. Nathan glanced up, seeing her fiery form invisible to all but him. "Calm yourself, Aphrodite," came Artemis''s cool, soothing voice. Her expression as calm as ever. "This is not the time to lose your composure." "That bastard..." Aphrodite hissed, her tone dripping with venom. Nathan, meanwhile, was no less furious. His jaw clenched as he glared at Chiron. "Coward," he muttered under his breath. The memory of Chiron''s first attack burned in his mind. Aeneas had been caught off guard, and in the process, Sarpedon had fallen and now, this centaur was trying to finish the job. The bowstring snapped with a deafening BADAM! The arrow shot forth, a streak of light so fast that even Nathan''s enhanced perception struggled to track it. Its trajectory was precise, deadly, and aimed squarely at Aeneas. Nathan didn''t hesitate. He activated his full speed, the world blurring around him as he appeared in front of Aeneas in an instant. With a sharp breath, he unsheathed his black blade, its dark surface gleaming ominously. Nathan swung downward, meeting the arrow head-on. The collision created a shockwave that rippled through the battlefield, scattering dust and debris in all directions. The sheer force of the impact was overwhelming. Nathan''s feet skidded backward across the ground, carving deep grooves as he struggled to remain upright. His arms trembled violently, and a sharp, searing pain shot through his bones. "Damn it..." he hissed, his grip faltering for a moment. His hands felt numb, and he could hear the faint sound of cracking¡ªhis bones straining under the immense power of Chiron''s celestial arrow. Through the haze of pain, Nathan''s sharp eyes caught movement. "You have to kill him," came the low, venomous whisper of Odysseus. Nathan''s head snapped toward the Greek hero. Odysseus stood off to the side, his cunning gaze locked on Chiron. The words weren''t for Nathan¡ªthey were meant for the centaur. Odysseus''s plan became clear in an instant. "He''s doing this on purpose," Nathan realized, his teeth grinding. "He''s targeting the others to force me to intercept. He wants me dead." Another BADAM! rang out, signaling the release of another arrow. This one was even more terrifying. Its tip glowed with the unmistakable brilliance of celestial magic, its aura suffused with divine energy. It burned through the air like a falling star, roaring toward Nathan with unrelenting speed. Nathan gritted his teeth and raised his sword once more, bracing himself for the impact. But this time, the blow never came. A towering figure appeared before Nathan, his bronze armor glinting in the light of the magic arrow. In one swift, decisive motion, the newcomer struck the arrow aside with a massive spear, the celestial energy dissipating harmlessly into the air. Nathan''s eyes widened as he recognized the man who had saved him. It was Hector. Chapter 244 Chiron the Greatest Teacher A towering figure appeared before Nathan, his bronze armor glinting in the light of the magic arrow. In one swift, decisive motion, the newcomer struck the arrow aside with a massive spear, the celestial energy dissipating harmlessly into the air. Nathan''s eyes widened as he recognized the man who had saved him. It was Hector. "Are you alright, Heiron?" Hector''s voice broke the tense silence, though his eyes remained fixed ahead. His usual grin, the one that never seemed to waver even in the direst of circumstances, was gone. Instead, his face carried a serious, almost chilling coldness that Nathan had rarely seen. It was the expression of a man who had just witnessed a friend fall. Sarpedon''s death weighed heavily on Hector. He had known him far longer than Nathan had, shared battles and victories, and perhaps even dreams. But Hector understood now wasn''t the time to grieve. The battlefield offered no space for mourning; survival demanded every shred of focus. "Yeah," Nathan replied. But his arm trembled faintly, a physical betrayal of the strain he was enduring. Hector''s sharp gaze flickered toward him briefly before returning forward. "I''ll handle them, Heiron. You should rest," he said, his tone firm yet tinged with concern. He could see it¡ªNathan was pushing himself too far. There was an unspoken tension within him, something deeper than mere exhaustion. Hector had always been perceptive, but he chose not to pry. If Nathan needed help, he could have asked Priam for a reward, but he hadn''t. That alone told Hector this was a burden not even them royalty could ease. Still, Hector felt a sense of responsibility, both as a prince and a friend. He didn''t want to lose Nathan too, not after losing Sarpedon. The thought of another companion falling on his watch was unbearable. As a warrior, he valued Nathan''s strength; as a man, he valued his presence. Nathan shook his head stubbornly. "I''m fine. Don''t worry about me," he insisted, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his fatigue. His eyes shifted toward the figure standing in the distance. "That guy is strong." Hector followed his gaze to Chiron, who stood silently like an unshakable pillar of authority, his eyes locked onto Hector with an unreadable expression. "He is," Hector said, a faint trace of warmth returning to his voice. "He was my teacher." Nathan''s brow furrowed in surprise. "Your teacher?" "Yes," Hector confirmed with a nod. "He taught me, Diomedes, and even Achilles. He''s not just strong¡ªhe''s a legend in his own right." The revelation settled over Nathan like a weight. "I see now," he murmured. It all made sense. This man wasn''t just formidable; he had shaped some of the greatest warriors of their time. No wonder his strength felt insurmountable. "In your state, Heiron," Hector continued, his voice growing serious again, "it''s too dangerous. Please, retreat." Nathan scoffed at the suggestion, his lips curling into a wry smile. "And you think you can take him on? Don''t be ridiculous." Hector''s laughter broke the tension, light and genuine despite the grim situation. "You could at least encourage me," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. Nathan''s head jerked toward Chiron. The centaur stood tall and unyielding, his bow raised high. The arrow nocked in its string glowed with an intense, celestial light, the air around it humming with Celestial magic. "Before we start, I''ve got something on my mind," Nathan said, with a cold tone. Hector and Atalanta exchanged surprised glances but nodded after a moment, curious yet trusting. Whatever Nathan was planning, they sensed it was important¡ªnot just for the battle, but perhaps for his own resolve. Before they could dwell on it further, the air was split by a thunderous BADAAAM! Chiron''s arrow had been released. It tore through the sky with a speed that defied comprehension, faster than any mortal eye could track. The sheer force of its movement created a whistling howl that seemed to reverberate through the battlefield. Hector acted immediately. He raised his longsword high, gripping it with both hands as his voice rang out with authority. "Lend me your strength! Rank 9 Light Magic: Apollo''s Wall!" In an instant, a colossal barrier of light materialized before them, radiant and majestic. The wall shimmered with an otherworldly brilliance, its surface etched with golden runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. It was a testament to Hector''s divine heritage and skill. The arrow collided with the wall with a deafening crashing sound! The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet. For a moment, it seemed as if the entire battlefield held its breath. Hector gritted his teeth, his arms straining against the immense force pressing down on him. Though the wall held firm, the sheer power of Chiron''s attack was enough to make his sword vibrate in his grip. His arm trembled slightly, but he refused to falter. Nathan, standing just behind him, couldn''t help but feel a surge of admiration. Hector of Troy was truly a remarkable warrior. As Nathan watched him, a thought crossed his mind: If we fought seriously, I''m not sure who would win. He''s the one capable of taking Achilles down. On the other side of the battlefield, Chiron''s sharp eyes observed the scene with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "He stopped the arrow. As expected of my pupil," he murmured, his tone laced with pride. Nearby, Odysseus let out an exasperated sigh. "Don''t hold back just because he''s your pupil, Chiron," he said, rubbing his temple. Chiron''s smile faded slightly as his gaze grew solemn. "I won''t. I fight for the Greeks now, and I won''t dishonor my pupil by holding back." "Good." Odysseus''s tone turned cold, his expression steely. "But remember¡ªI asked you to kill Heiron. He''s the greater threat." Chiron turned his attention toward where Nathan had been standing, his keen gaze sweeping the battlefield. But something was wrong. Nathan was no longer there. Only Atalanta remained, standing near the now-dissipating Apollo''s Wall. Before Chiron could react, a cold whisper snaked through the air, sending a shiver down Odysseus''s spine. "It''s time to die." Chapter 245 Hunting Odysseus! Before Chiron could react, a cold whisper snaked through the air, sending a shiver down Odysseus''s spine. "It''s time to die. " Nathan''s gaze locked onto Odysseus, cold and unyielding. Since the war''s inception, Odysseus had been a thorn in his side, an incessant nuisance. He lacked the raw strength of the other Greek warriors, but his cunning more than made up for it. Odysseus was the glue holding the fractious Greek kings together, the one ensuring their united front. Nathan knew that if Odysseus were to fall, the tenuous alliance would crumble. The kings, driven by ambition and ego, would inevitably turn on each other, and chaos would reign. Moreover, it was Odysseus who had orchestrated Chiron''s arrival, tipping the scales of battle further against Nathan''s side. That alone made him a priority target. Odysseus''s sharp instincts betrayed him this time. He didn''t anticipate Nathan''s sudden approach, his cold presence practically materializing in front of him. The Greek hero barely had a moment to react as Nathan drew his black blade, its surface absorbing the faint light around it, and swung with lethal intent. The attack was merciless, aimed directly at Odysseus''s neck to sever his head in one fluid motion. BADAM! The air itself seemed to crack under the force of Nathan''s strike. A shockwave rippled outward from the impact, blasting through the ranks of Odysseus''s men. The unfortunate soldiers closest to the epicenter were thrown backward like ragdolls, some rendered unconscious while others fell lifeless to the ground. Yet, to Nathan''s irritation, Odysseus remained unharmed. A faint shimmer surrounded the Greek tactician¡ªa barrier that had absorbed the brunt of Nathan''s attack without so much as a scratch. The protective aura flickered momentarily before fading into invisibility, but its purpose was clear. Nathan''s expression darkened, his mind quickly deducing the truth. "It''s not his power," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "Athena." The goddess had bestowed her blessing upon her favored prote?ge?. Odysseus was too vital to her plans for her to leave him unprotected. She understood his importance in the war, and this divine intervention ensured his continued survival. Nathan''s grip on his sword tightened as his fury grew. "Let''s see how long your blessing lasts," he hissed, his tone seething with menace. The murderous intent radiating from Nathan was palpable, a suffocating aura that sent chills down Odysseus''s spine. For all his famed composure, even he couldn''t suppress the unease gnawing at him. Nathan''s killing intent was unlike anything he had encountered before¡ªit was as if death itself had fixed its gaze on him. "You are quite the enigma," a calm yet commanding voice interrupted. Chiron, ever vigilant, had already drawn his massive bow. In one swift motion, he nocked an arrow, the tip glowing faintly with divine energy. At such close range, even Nathan couldn''t escape unscathed. But Nathan wasn''t alone. BOOM! A deafening explosion shattered the tension as Hector launched himself into the fray. His powerful frame moved with blinding speed, closing the distance between himself and Chiron in an instant. His fist, encased in a golden glow, lashed out with tremendous force aimed directly at the centaur. Chiron, sensing the imminent danger, raised his arms in defense. Your next read is at empire BADAM! The impact was catastrophic. Chiron managed to absorb the blow, but the sheer force sent him skidding back several meters. His hooves scraped against the ground, carving deep grooves as he struggled to regain his balance. Nathan wasted no time, seizing the opportunity created by Hector''s intervention. His black sword, radiating a cold malevolence, was raised high, and he pointed it directly at Odysseus. "Celestial-rank Ice Magic." The incantation echoed ominously, and an icy vortex swirled from the blade. Frost bloomed in the air, coalescing into a massive, gleaming lance of ice¡ªits form jagged and deadly, its edges razor-sharp. The air around Nathan grew colder as the lance hovered for a moment, a harbinger of death. The clash of their weapons sent a deafening shockwave through the battlefield. The sheer force of Chiron''s strike was monstrous, but this time, Nathan held his ground. His knees buckled slightly, his muscles straining against the titanic power behind Chiron''s blow. For a moment, Nathan resisted the centaur''s might, his dark blade shimmering with magic. But even Nathan knew he couldn''t hold for long. Fortunately, Hector arrived like a storm, his golden sword slashing downward at Chiron. The centaur was forced to disengage, turning his attention to Hector. Their swords met with a resounding crash, and the impact propelled both combatants away, their hooves and feet digging into the ground as they skidded to a halt. Nathan exhaled sharply, using the opening to refocus his attention on Odysseus. The tactician was just within reach, retreating through the chaos. Nathan''s grip tightened on his sword, his determination flaring. "Just a few more seconds..." Nathan muttered to himself. Dark magic began to gather around him, swirling like an ominous storm. He channeled its energy into his blade, preparing to shatter Athena''s barrier once and for all. This time, Odysseus would have no escape. But just as Nathan surged forward, a figure materialized in his path. Diomedes. The warrior''s stance was unyielding, his blade poised to block Nathan''s advance. "I can''t let you go through," Diomedes said, his voice steady and resolute. Nathan growled, raising his sword to strike. But before he could move, a hand descended on Diomedes'' shoulder. It was Poseidon. The sea god''s presence radiated divine power, his gaze cold and condescending as he looked past Diomedes toward Nathan. With a casual gesture, Poseidon imbued Diomedes with his blessing. Nathan''s heart sank. "Fuck..." Diomedes, now bolstered by the god''s power, became a blur of motion. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Nathan, moving with unnatural speed. Nathan barely had time to react before Diomedes'' sword pierced his shoulder, the blade sinking deep. Pain flared through Nathan''s body, but he gritted his teeth, shifting his stance. With a desperate burst of strength, he drove his foot into Diomedes'' side. The kick connected with brutal force, sending the warrior staggering slightly. But Diomedes barely wavered, the divine blessing rendering him nearly impervious. "Celestial rank magic," Diomedes intoned, his voice ringing with power as he began to channel an attack. Nathan''s eyes widened in alarm. With Poseidon''s blessing, Diomedes wasn''t just powerful¡ªhe was now capable of unleashing a flawless Celestial-rank spell. At this range, the consequences would be catastrophic. Nathan tried to dodge, but before he could move, tendrils of water shot out from the ground, wrapping around his legs and arms. The liquid coiled tightly, freezing him in place. Nathan didn''t need to look to know who was responsible. Poseidon stood nearby, his smirk filled with mockery and satisfaction. "Goodbye." Nathan struggled, but the water was unyielding, its grip reinforced by Poseidon''s divine will. "Kingly Sword!" Diomedes shouted as he brought his weapon down in a deadly arc. Nathan could do nothing but brace himself. The blade tore through his armor with ease, and blood erupted from the deep gash across his chest. Chapter 246 Rescuing Heiron! Nathan stood, barely holding himself together, the weight of his injuries dragging his body into an agonizing slump. Diomedes'' previous attack, bolstered by Poseidon''s divine blessing, had left a gruesome gash stretching across his chest. Blood poured out in unrelenting streams, pooling at his feet, staining the earth beneath him. His trembling hand pressed futilely against the wound, but no amount of pressure could stem the crimson tide. "F...fuck..." Nathan muttered, his voice barely a whisper, laced with pain and frustration. His breathing came in short, labored gasps, every inhale a sharp reminder of his mortality. Nearby, Hector''s panicked shout shattered the tense silence. "Heiron!!" His concern was genuine, the desperation in his tone undeniable, but before he could act, Chiron gripped his arm firmly, restraining him. The wise centaur shook his head, his expression grim, as if acknowledging the inevitability of what was unfolding. Diomedes stood tall, the blade in his hand still shimmering faintly with the divine glow of Poseidon''s blessing. His voice, steady and resolute, cut through the chaos like steel. "I will end you now. You''re too dangerous, just as Odysseus warned." His eyes burned with the same intensity as his blade, an unyielding determination to finish what he had started. Nathan''s mind raced. He knew another blow like the last would end him¡ªthere was no escaping that truth. Yet, his gaze was not fixed on Diomedes, not on the blade poised to deliver his demise. Instead, his eyes lifted skyward, locking onto an unseen figure beyond mortal comprehension. "Poseidon..." Nathan rasped, his voice low but brimming with venom. His lips curled slightly, his expression darkening as pure, unfiltered hatred surged within him. Few had ever stirred such animosity in his heart, the Divine Knights being the rare exceptions. But Poseidon¡ªPoseidon had harassed Khione, toyed with her existence, and now this god dared to meddle directly in his life, to stand as an obstacle in his path. If only he were stronger. The thought burned in Nathan''s mind, a bitter wish, a cruel reminder of the gap that separated him from the deities who toyed with mortals like pawns. If he had the power, he would have struck Poseidon down without hesitation, made him pay for every transgression. But for now, the gulf between them remained too vast to bridge. Up above, Poseidon frowned, the weight of Nathan''s gaze unmistakable. "Oh? You can see me? Strange..." His voice carried a mix of curiosity and annoyance, his brows furrowing as he studied the mortal below. At first, he considered the possibility of coincidence, but that look¡ªthose piercing eyes filled with unyielding hatred toward him¡ªmade it clear. This was no accident. Mortals weren''t supposed to perceive gods unless granted the privilege. Yet here Nathan was, glaring directly at him, challenging his authority with nothing more than his gaze. The realization unsettled the sea god, though he masked it with feigned amusement. Hera, who had not been present for the earlier events, was taken aback. "Is this a joke?" she blurted, her voice sharp with disbelief. Her sharp eyes darted between Poseidon and Nathan, searching for an explanation. Athena, however, remained calm, her analytical mind already piecing together the puzzle. Her eyes lingered on Nathan with quiet intensity, as though assessing a specimen of particular interest. "I think he could see us from the very beginning," she said finally, her tone even, though a flicker of intrigue danced in her gaze. Hera scowled, her disbelief morphing into suspicion. "Who the hell is he?" "It doesn''t matter," Athena replied dismissively, though her calm exterior did little to hide the subtle tension in her voice. "He''s going to die today." Her words were not a mere observation but a command. A faint whisper escaped her lips, carried by an invisible thread to Diomedes'' ears. Kill him. Diomedes'' eyes glinted with a golden light, his resolve hardening as the divine order took root in his mind. With renewed fervor, he lunged toward Nathan, his sword aimed to deliver the killing blow. The force of his charge caused the ground to tremble beneath his feet, a storm of dust and divine energy marking his path. Nathan''s arm trembled as he weakly raised it, knowing full well that it wouldn''t be enough to block the incoming strike. Diomedes surged forward, his blade radiating with Poseidon''s divine power, ready to deal the killing blow. Nathan braced himself, teeth gritted, his blood-soaked fingers clenched into a defiant fist. But just as the sword came down, a jet of water, sharp as a blade and faster than an arrow, tore through the battlefield. The torrent struck Diomedes square in the chest, the sheer force of it driving him backward and breaking his advance. Nathan''s eyes widened, a flicker of relief washing over him as Charybdis emerged, her presence commanding and unyielding. Her skin shimmered with a blue hue, a clear sign that her control over herself was slipping. The primal, raging force within her was beginning to surface, and Nathan could see the strain in her eyes as she fought to keep it in check. "Charybdis..." Nathan muttered, clutching his bleeding chest with one hand as he reached out to her with the other. "I... I need to get out of here." Charybdis flinched, her bloodlust momentarily giving way to clarity as Nathan''s weak, desperate plea grounded her. She nodded sharply, her expression hardening with resolve. Without another word, she moved to support him, her strength and determination the only things keeping him upright as they began their retreat. Across the battlefield, Hector stood still, his sharp eyes narrowing as he assessed the immense threat before him. He could feel the pressure emanating from Diomedes, the weight of Poseidon''s divine favor pressing down on him like a tidal wave. Yet, Hector showed no fear. Closing his eyes for a fleeting moment, he murmured a prayer under his breath. "Apollo, lend me your strength. Let me protect my people... and my city." Golden light erupted from Hector''s sword, a dazzling, radiant aura enveloping the weapon. It blazed with the fiery intensity of the sun, the warmth of Apollo''s blessing filling him with unwavering resolve. Your journey continues on empire The battlefield grew silent, the air charged with an almost suffocating tension. Time itself seemed to pause as both warriors readied themselves for the final clash, their weapons shining with divine power. Then, in an instant, they moved. Both Hector and Diomedes surged forward, their feet pounding against the ground with the force of an earthquake. The gap between them closed in a blur, their weapons raised high, each one ready to deliver a decisive blow. BADAM! The clash of their swords erupted in an ear-shattering explosion. The shockwave tore through the battlefield, scattering dirt, rocks, and debris in all directions. Soldiers nearby were thrown off their feet, their cries of alarm drowned out by the roar of the collision. Even the air itself seemed to tremble, rippling outward in visible waves from the sheer force of the impact. Hector staggered backward, blood erupting from his mouth as a deep gash tore across his side. Diomedes'' blade had cut him, the divine energy of Poseidon''s blessing leaving a wound that burned like fire. Blood poured freely from the injury, staining Hector''s golden armor and the earth beneath him. Diomedes, however, didn''t look triumphant. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he glared at Hector. He had struck, but he had failed¡ªhis blade had not claimed Hector''s life. The realization settled heavily on his face. "You missed," Hector growled through gritted teeth, his voice a mix of pain and defiance. Blood dripped from his lips, but his grip on his sword remained steady. Diomedes said nothing, his silence laced with bitterness. He had put everything into that strike¡ªall of Poseidon''s divine favor, all of his strength¡ªand it hadn''t been enough. Hector''s eyes burned with fury as he leveled his gaze at Diomedes. The man before him wasn''t just an enemy; he was an old companion, a fellow student once under Chiron''s tutelage. The shared history made this battle all the more painful, but Hector knew what had to be done. Tightening his grip on his sword, Hector swung it in a powerful, fluid arc. The blade whistled through the air, cutting with such precision and speed that the air itself seemed to part before it. Diomedes'' eyes widened as he saw the blade coming. In that split second, he understood that this was the end. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, bittersweet and resigned. "At least... I die as a warrior," he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos. BADAM! Hector''s sword connected with terrifying finality. The force of the blow was absolute, severing Diomedes'' head cleanly from his body. The headless corpse crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as blood pooled beneath it. Chapter 247 Nathans past Nathan was dreaming. All the pain he was feeling following Diomedes''s attack powered by Poseidon had been amplified by Nathan''s own breaking body so maybe that''s why he was having some kind of dreams of the past. He was staring in the living room of his house Read exclusive chapters at empire "What happened, Nathan?" The voice was sharp, precise, and carried a cold authority that made even the air around them seem heavier. The speaker, a tall and impeccably groomed man, stood in the doorway. His dark hair, slicked back with precision, glistened faintly under the harsh light of the room. His tailored suit was flawless, from the neatly pressed cuffs to the polished shoes that reflected the dim surroundings. Even his posture was a statement¡ªrigid, commanding, and unyielding. His dark eyes bore into the figure of a young boy, who looked more like a shadow of himself. Nathan knew who it was. It was none other than himself, just a year older¡ªat eleven. The boy standing before the man had a battered appearance. His uniform was torn in places, his knuckles bruised and crusted with dried blood, and his face held a blank, almost lifeless expression. His gaze was fixed on the ground, as if the floor was the only thing that offered him any solace. The man''s eyes swept over Nathan, his lips curling slightly in a look of thinly veiled disgust. "I fought," Nathan said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Look at me when I speak to you." Nathan''s head snapped up immediately, his gaze meeting his father''s. The older man''s cold, piercing stare seemed to cut through him like a blade. "Who did you fight?" the man asked, his tone icy and unrelenting. "Three people. They were seniors at my middle school," Nathan replied. His voice remained even, as though recounting something as mundane as the weather. "They tried to take the money you gave me." The words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken. It wasn''t the first time. Nathan was no stranger to these encounters. Everyone at school knew who he was¡ªthe son of wealth and power. He was a solitary figure, someone most kept their distance from, but that didn''t stop those more brazen from testing their luck. His upperclassmen had learned the hard way. "Did you win?" his father asked, his expression still cold, though his dark eyes narrowed slightly, searching Nathan''s face for an answer. Nathan didn''t hesitate. "Two of them are in the hospital. The other... I don''t know. The school summoned you, Father." There was no remorse in his voice, no pride either¡ªjust facts. The school''s director had called, of course. How could they not? But the man before Nathan didn''t react with outrage or concern. Instead, a faint, nearly imperceptible nod of approval flickered across his face. He wasn''t a man who praised openly, but Nathan had been raised to recognize the signs. "Good," his father finally said, his voice clipped. "I''ll deal with the director." Nathan said nothing. He didn''t understand. He didn''t want to understand. His father grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to look up. The grip was firm, almost painful, and Nathan''s eyes widened slightly at the sudden, forceful contact. "Look at me, Nathan," his father commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding. Nathan''s gaze locked with his father''s, and he felt the weight of those dark, unrelenting eyes pressing down on him. "Women are powerful weapons," his father continued, his tone chillingly deliberate. "They can be used however you want, whenever you want, until you are satisfied. Always put yourself above everyone else. If one of them even dares to think of harming you..." The man''s eyes darkened further, his expression twisting into something frighteningly cruel. "...you make them pay a thousandfold. Hurt them until they regret even considering it. Women don''t deserve your mercy. Break them until they submit. And if they''re no longer useful, discard them. That is how the world works, Nathan. If you have my blood running through your veins, you''ll understand that. Do you?" Nathan''s chest felt heavy, his breath shallow. His father''s words sliced through him, leaving behind an emptiness he couldn''t quite name. His eyes, already dulled by the weight of his life, seemed to darken further. The faint flicker of happiness he had found living with Akane and Ayaka¡ªa fragile, fleeting thing¡ªhad been extinguished entirely. He nodded slowly, the motion mechanical, lifeless. "Yes, Father." The man released him, stepping back as if the conversation had been no more significant than a lecture on manners. Nathan stood frozen, his body rigid and his mind reeling. His father left without another word, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance. Nathan remained where he was, staring at nothing, the crushing emptiness within him expanding until it threatened to consume him entirely. Nathan stared at his younger self with an expression that defied interpretation¡ªa mixture of detachment, bitterness, and something almost resembling pity. The scene before him, vivid and unrelenting, was burned into his memory. He remembered it all too well. Then again, he remembered every moment with his father perfectly. His father''s words, his teachings, his twisted philosophy¡ªeach one carved into the very fabric of Nathan''s mind, impossible to erase no matter how much he wished otherwise. Those lessons, brutal and unyielding, were the foundation upon which much of his early life had been built. Yet the memories he truly wanted to hold on to, the ones of his mother and the fleeting moments of happiness he had shared with her, seemed to slip away like grains of sand through his fingers. Those recollections were soft and fragile, their edges blurred, as if his mind itself conspired to rob him of the comfort they might bring. His gaze shifted as his thoughts spiraled inward. What happened after this? Nathan wondered, though he already knew the answer. "I remember," he muttered to himself. "I met those siblings." They had been the last step-siblings to enter his life before Sienna and Siara. That chapter, brief and tumultuous, marked a turning point. A certain incident with that stepfamily had changed him irrevocably. Afterward, he became the man who had walked the halls of high school¡ªa cold, detached figure who viewed women as less than trophies. They weren''t people; they were objects, acquisitions to be possessed, displayed, and discarded. Exactly the way his father had wanted him to see them. His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered how far he had fallen into the image his father had crafted for him. But now... Now, without his father''s constant shadow looming over him, Nathan knew he had changed. And it wasn''t just the absence of his father that had shifted his perspective. The disappearance of Khione had forced him to confront feelings he had long denied. Losing her had been like losing a part of himself, and it was only then that he realized what she had truly meant to him. She hadn''t been a trophy; she had been Khione. Amelia''s absence, along with others who had once stood beside him, had also left its mark. Each departure had chipped away at the walls his father had built around his heart. "What would Father think of the current me?" Chapter 248 Heiron is awake! Nathan slowly opened his eyes, his gaze drifting toward the ornate ceiling above¡ªa ceiling he had grown familiar with in the short time spent in the royal guest quarters. This room, a gift from Priam, was a sanctuary of luxury, yet it felt hollow, like a gilded cage meant to trap rather than protect. He raised his aching body with a low grunt, the weight of fatigue pressing on him. Every movement felt labored, as though the battle still clung to his muscles and bones. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the fine details of his surroundings¡ªthe elegant tapestries draped along the walls, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. Yet none of it mattered. What happened? Nathan''s thoughts churned as fragments of the recent past surfaced. He remembered Diomedes''s devastating attack and the sharp, searing pain that followed. Charybdis had intervened, dragging him away from the battlefield, her urgency palpable. But beyond that, his memory was a blur. Then it hit him. Poseidon. A surge of cold fury coursed through him, and his expression hardened into a mask of icy determination. His fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms as anger bubbled to the surface. It wasn''t just hatred for Poseidon¡ªit was anger at himself. Weakness. He replayed the moment in his mind, envisioning how differently it could have gone if only he had been stronger. If he had the power, he would have torn Poseidon apart, consequences be damned. The thought burned in his chest, but alongside it came the bitter sting of reality. Before he could sink further into his thoughts, a sudden presence materialized beside him. His senses sharpened as he turned, only to see Charybdis. Her form shimmered for a brief moment, as if the room itself couldn''t contain her raw energy. The instant her eyes met his, something broke within her. Without hesitation, she rushed toward him, throwing her arms around him in a fierce embrace. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through Nathan''s body, but he didn''t flinch. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, returning the hug. "It''s fine," he murmured softly, his voice steady despite the throbbing in his chest. "I won''t die." He rested a hand on her head, gently patting her hair in an effort to calm her storm. Charybdis trembled against him, her power barely contained, like a tide threatening to surge and drown everything in its path. He could feel her fear¡ªno, her rage. It simmered just beneath the surface, ready to explode into a relentless slaughter if he had not stopped her. As he stroked her hair, Nathan''s thoughts wandered to the dream that had haunted him earlier¡ªthe memories of his past. His father loomed large in his mind, a figure both domineering and cruel, treating the women in his life as possessions. Nathan could still hear his father''s voice echoing in his ears, advising him to act the same way. For a time, Nathan had been tempted to follow that path. He nearly became the man he despised, especially after the incident with the Spanish siblings. Seeing Sienna, Siara, and even his classmates as trophies¡ªit was a dangerous mindset, one that had crept in before he realized the depths of his folly. And Khione... She had suffered the worst of it. He had enslaved her, forced her hand, and used her for his own ends. Did he regret it? No, not entirely. Without such drastic measures, she would never have become his. Yet, as he held Charybdis close, Nathan resolved that he could no longer justify such actions. From now on, he would choose a different path, one that didn''t mirror his father''s cruelty. The last thing he wanted was to become the very thing he loathed. To lose himself entirely to that darkness was a fate worse than death. Charybdis''s breathing slowed as his calm voice and steady presence reassured her. Though the fire of her rage had dimmed, it hadn''t been extinguished entirely. "How long was I out?" Nathan asked, his voice steady but carrying a hint of unease. "Two weeks," Charybdis replied softly. As he stepped out of the room, the day''s atmosphere greeted him. The castle seemed quieter than usual, almost as if the very walls were holding their breath. "Today is a rest day," Charybdis reminded him, her voice soft yet insistent, as though sensing his inclination to dive headfirst back into the fray. Nathan paused, letting her words settle. Rest, perhaps, was something he desperately needed¡ªbut not for his body "Heiron!" The sudden sound of a feminine voice broke through Nathan''s thoughts, pulling his attention away from his surroundings. He turned toward the source and saw Astynome rushing toward him, her golden hair trailing behind her like sunlight. Before he could react, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly. "I''ve been so worried!" Astynome murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. Her grip on him tightened, and tears welled up in her eyes. "You can''t die. I know you won''t die, but I was so worried!" Nathan felt a pang of guilt but gently returned her embrace, his arms wrapping around her in a reassuring gesture. "Yeah, don''t worry," he muttered softly. "I can''t die that easily." The words were simple, but they carried a quiet determination, a promise unspoken yet understood. "Heiron?!" Another voice, deep and familiar, called out to him. Startled, Astynome quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Nathan turned to see Aeneas striding toward them, his expression a mix of relief and restrained emotion. Aeneas didn''t hesitate. He closed the distance between them in a few quick strides and engulfed Nathan in a bear hug, slapping him on the shoulder with enough force to make Nathan wince. "Finally!" Aeneas exclaimed, his voice thick with unspoken relief. "You had us all so worried, man. Don''t ever try to die on us again!" Nathan chuckled softly, patting Aeneas on the back. "I won''t." As he pulled back from the embrace, Nathan''s sharp eyes scanned his friend. Aeneas looked different¡ªhardened. His face bore new lines of resolve, and his body was marked with fresh scars, evidence of battles fought and survived. "You''ve changed," Nathan remarked, his tone both impressed and concerned. "You''ve gotten stronger in my absence." Aeneas nodded, his smile tinged with bitterness. "I had to. After Sarpedon died... and you almost..." His voice faltered, the weight of the memories pressing down on him. "Something just clicked inside me. There was no choice but to step up." Nathan''s expression softened, understanding the unspoken burden Aeneas carried. War had a way of forcing people to grow, often in ways they never anticipated or wanted. "Come," Aeneas said, his voice breaking the momentary silence. "Hector and the others will be overjoyed to see you back." He grinned widely and went ahead. Nathan nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he followed Aeneas through the corridors of the camp. Chapter 249 New allies! "Heiron, you''re finally awake!" Hector''s booming voice carried a mixture of relief and joy as he strode toward Nathan, wrapping him in a firm hug before lifting him off his feet. Despite his towering frame, Hector''s embrace felt warm and sincere. "We''ve been so worried about you. You weren''t waking up for weeks, and none of the doctors had any idea what was wrong!" His voice cracked slightly, revealing how deeply the ordeal had shaken him. Nathan managed a faint smile, though his expression remained calm. "I''m fine now," he replied, his voice steady but subdued. Hector took a step back, his sharp eyes scanning Nathan''s face as if to confirm his words. "Good. But you still need rest," he insisted firmly, folding his arms as if to emphasize his point. "I think I''ve rested enough," Nathan countered, seriously. Hector sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "How are you feeling, my friend?" he asked, patting Nathan''s shoulder in a gesture both comforting and serious. Nathan paused, glancing at the scars that marked his body¡ªphysical reminders of his relentless struggles. His silver-white hair glimmered faintly in the dim torchlight, making him seem otherworldly. Finally, he spoke. "Good. It''s the final act. Let''s end this." Hector''s smile widened, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Yes," he said with a resolute nod. As Nathan surveyed the scene, he couldn''t help but notice how much the war had taken its toll on Hector. His once proud and imposing friend now looked haggard, weighed down by new scars and the invisible burden of endless battles. Even his posture betrayed his weariness, though his eyes burned with determination. "It''s good to see you back," a gentle voice interrupted Nathan''s thoughts. Atalanta approached, her steps light but deliberate, a genuine smile softening her features. She looked as weary as Hector, her armor dulled by countless clashes. The loss of Sarpedon and Nathan''s absence had clearly taken their toll. Yet, there was a spark in her eyes¡ªa flicker of hope. "Come, Heiron. Let''s eat. I also have some people to introduce you to," Hector said, beckoning Nathan to follow. The group moved together, the air buzzing with subdued excitement. As they entered the great hall, the gathered Trojans erupted into cheers at the sight of Nathan. Their voices echoed off the high stone walls, filling the space with a mix of relief and celebration. Nathan offered them a polite nod, acknowledging their support, but his attention soon shifted. In the far corner of the room, two men were devouring plates of meat with an almost primal ferocity, entirely unbothered by the noise around them. Nathan''s gaze lingered on them, curiosity piqued. "Heiron," Hector said, motioning toward the pair, "meet Castor and Pollux. They''re among the finest warriors who''ve joined our side. More importantly, they''re Helen''s brothers." At the mention of Helen, Nathan''s brow arched slightly, intrigued. "They chose to fight for us," Hector continued, "for their sister''s sake." One of the men¡ªCastor, judging by the faint scars across his forearms¡ªlooked up briefly from his meal, sizing Nathan up with a casual glance. "Oh, this is Heiron, I guess?" The room fell into an awkward silence. Nathan noticed the faint twitch of Hector''s lips, as if he were suppressing a laugh or a awkwardness¡ªperhaps both. Even Aeneas, standing nearby, shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Hector finally broke the silence with a resigned sigh. "Well," he said slowly, "it''s true. Helen hasn''t exactly been... enthusiastic about Paris lately." The truth was undeniable. Helen had been distant with Paris for weeks now, her interactions with him sparse and strained. She spent much of her time avoiding him altogether, as if the weight of the war had driven a wedge between them. She was literally avoiding him. She had been feeling guilty about all of this. About the war, the deaths, everything. At first, Hector blamed her too. She was queen. She must have known what her actions would lead to, what consequences would follow yet it was strange for Hector that Helen just left like that. But as the months passed, he realized there had to be more to her decision. Something else must have been at play and he stopped blaming her but he still blamed Paris who was definitely the culprit in this. The more time passed and the more it looked like Helen had been somewhat tricked by Paris and she was dragged out forcefully. Hearing Castor''s words, Nathan''s doubts eased slightly, though not entirely. The brothers seemed sincere, but sincerity could be feigned, especially in times of war. For now, Nathan resolved to remain cautious, his guard firmly in place. "So, you no longer hold any loyalty toward Agamemnon, I assume?" Nathan asked, his voice measured but probing, as his sharp gaze lingered on the twins. "Loyalty? Who could hold loyalty toward such a despicable man?" A woman''s voice suddenly rang. Nathan turned to the source, his eyes narrowing as he took in the figure who had entered. She was striking¡ªundeniably beautiful, though not with the ethereal grace of Helen. Her beauty was fierce, regal, and commanding, with long golden hair cascading over her shoulders like sunlight and piercing green eyes that burned with intensity. Every movement she made exuded a dignity that spoke of her noble lineage. "She is Clytemnestra," Hector said quietly. "Clytemnestra?" Nathan repeated, his voice tinged with suspicion. "Helen''s sister? What is she doing here?" "She asked us to save her," Castor replied. "From the hell she endured at Agamemnon''s castle." Nathan''s eyes darted back to the woman. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists at her sides, her knuckles white, and the rage in her eyes was almost palpable. "I will never forgive him," Clytemnestra said, her voice trembling with emotion. "That man¡ª" She broke off, her shoulders shaking with suppressed anger. "He took everything from me. My freedom, my dignity, my happiness...my daughter." Chapter 250 Clytemnestras rage Nathan''s eyes darted back to the woman. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists at her sides, her knuckles white, and the rage in her eyes was almost palpable. "I will never forgive him," Clytemnestra said, her voice trembling with emotion. "That man¡ª" She broke off, her shoulders shaking with suppressed anger. "He took everything from me. My freedom, my dignity, my happiness...my daughter." "Daughter." "Yes," Hector replied, his voice tinged with disgust. "Agamemnon sacrificed his own daughter when the winds did not favor his voyage to Troy." His expression twisted in revulsion, as if merely speaking the words left a foul taste in his mouth. The thought was abhorrent¡ªunthinkable. How could a man, even one consumed by ambition, offer his own child to the gods for the sake of war? Hector could scarcely fathom it. To him, this act alone stripped Agamemnon of any semblance of humanity. He was no longer a father, no longer a man, but a hollow shell consumed by obsession. Agamemnon''s fixation on Troy had only grown since that horrific sacrifice. It had morphed into a grotesque duty: conquering Troy had become the only way to justify his daughter''s death, to assign some twisted sense of purpose to her senseless loss. Yet to Hector, it was nothing more than a madman chasing shadows, desperate to give meaning to his heinous choice. "She was just a child..." Clytemnestra muttered, her voice trembling as she clenched her fists. Tears gathered in her anguished eyes, threatening to spill. "All that... for his stupid war." Her words dripped with contempt, and her grief was palpable, each syllable a testament to the wound that could never heal. "It''s all my fault, sister," came a soft voice. The room grew silent as Helen stepped forward. Her beauty, unmatched and renowned across the world, was marred by an expression of overwhelming guilt. She seemed smaller somehow, diminished by the weight of her shame. She had avoided her sister until now, too afraid to face her fury, too certain she would be cursed and disowned. Instead, Clytemnestra shook her head, her gaze softening as she looked at Helen. "I know you, Helen. You have always been responsible and cared for others. You would never have left Menelaus willingly, not under normal circumstances. Something happened¡ªsomething beyond your control." Her voice wavered, but her conviction was firm. "I am certain that bastard Paris did something to you..." Clytemnestra hesitated before turning to Hector. "I apologize for my words, Prince Hector." Hector shook his head solemnly, his expression shadowed. "My brother is at fault. There is nothing to deny." His voice was steady, but the shame in his tone was evident. Clytemnestra nodded, then returned her attention to her sister. She placed a hand on Helen''s shoulder, a faint smile breaking through her grief. "You are not to blame for Iphigenia''s death. That burden lies entirely with Agamemnon." "Sister..." Helen''s voice broke as tears streamed down her face. She threw her arms around Clytemnestra, clutching her tightly. The relief in her embrace was palpable, as though a massive weight had been lifted from her soul. Nathan''s voice cut through the tender moment, his words cold and unyielding. "Your husband has caused more pain than any man has a right to. He is the lowest of scum." Clytemnestra turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. "I''ve seen the Greek camp with my own eyes," Nathan continued, his icy stare unwavering. "It mirrors Agamemnon''s soul¡ªcruel, corrupt, and irredeemable. The Greek kings are nothing more than tyrants, and their men are their reflections. None of them deserve mercy." She let her sword fall to the ground with a clatter and ran to him, closing the distance between them in an instant. Without a word, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly as if afraid he might vanish. Her body trembled in his embrace, the strength of her earlier stance giving way to vulnerability. Nathan returned her embrace, wrapping his arms around her securely. One hand rested gently on her head as he stroked her hair with a tenderness that stood in stark contrast to the icy anger he had displayed earlier. The Amazons exchanged surprised glances, their Queen''s behavior a stark departure from her usual demeanor. She looked... soft. Feminine. Almost childlike in the way she clung to him. And yet, as the initial surprise faded, smiles broke out among the warriors. Their Queen, their unyielding leader, had found someone who could bring out this side of her. It was a sight they hadn''t expected, but it filled them with a strange pride. "Looks like she chose well," one Amazon whispered with a grin, earning a chorus of nods and murmured agreement. As Penthesilea clung to Nathan, the weight of the world seemed to lift from her shoulders, if only for a moment. In his arms, she could allow herself to be vulnerable, to let the warrior''s mask slip away. And for Nathan, in her embrace, the flames of his hatred dimmed. Penthesilea had always carried a quiet but profound worry for Nathan. It was an emotion she hadn''t expected, and one she rarely allowed herself to dwell on. Yet, after what had happened on the battlefield, that worry had grown into something overwhelming. She hadn''t been there when it happened. Positioned on another front of the battlefield, she was leading her Amazons in a relentless clash against the Menelaus and the Spartans. By the time she heard the news and saw him again, Nathan had already been struck down, his body teetering on the edge of death. The sight of him¡ªpale, bloodied, and barely clinging to life¡ªshattered something inside her. She had seen men fall in battle before, comrades and enemies alike, but this was different. For the first time, fear gripped her so tightly she could hardly breathe. She had never felt this kind of terror for another person, never cared so deeply whether someone lived or died. "I should have been there," Penthesilea said, her voice trembling as her hands clenched into fists. "No," Nathan replied firmly, his voice steady despite his weakened state. "You have your own fights to fight. I don''t need you to cover me." Penthesilea shook her head, her jaw tightening. "But¡ª" "Don''t worry." Nathan cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I''m not going to die," he continued, his voice softer now, but no less certain. "Not yet. I just need to hold on a little longer." Penthesilea searched his face, her heart aching at the sight of him pushing through his pain with sheer determination. She wanted to argue, to insist that he shouldn''t bear this alone, but the quiet confidence in his words stopped her. Nathan''s eyes shifted, looking past her toward the distant horizon. Somewhere out there, the tides of war continued to churn, and his mind was already ahead, calculating and planning. "Until Apollo comes back," he murmured, almost to himself. "Then, finally, I can end this war." Chapter 251 Helens thanks At the graveyard of Troy, Nathan stood silently beside Aeneas and Hector, the three men casting long shadows across the cracked and uneven ground. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and distant wildflowers, mingling with the faint aroma of charred wood¡ªa reminder of the destruction that had gripped the city not long ago. Before them lay a modest pile of rubble, stones heaped with care yet betraying the tragic weight of their meaning. A small, weathered marker stood out among the debris. Its surface was rough, yet someone had taken the time to carve a name into it with painstaking precision. Sarpedon. Nathan''s dark eyes lingered on the inscription. His expression was as hard as the stone beneath his feet, but his thoughts churned with emotion.No?v(el)B\\jnn For Hector and Aeneas, this loss was weeks old, a wound that had begun to scab over. But for Nathan, it was as fresh as yesterday. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to feel the full weight of the moment. "I''ll probably never find a friend like him again," Nathan thought, the bitter realization settling over him like a cold shroud. In the wake of Sarpedon''s death, only Hector and Aeneas remained¡ªbrothers in arms, the last among men he could truly call friends. He glanced at the two of them, their solemn faces mirroring the unspoken grief they all shared. Aeneas broke the silence first, his voice steady but tinged with wistfulness. "Knowing Sarpedon, he''s probably on the island of the greatest Heroes by now." He was referring to the legendary resting place reserved for the noblest and most valiant warriors, a realm akin to Heaven but touched with the raw, untamed spirit of those who had lived and died for honor. "Definitely," Hector replied, his tone resolute. He placed a hand on Nathan''s shoulder, offering silent camaraderie before stepping away. Aeneas followed, the two men leaving Nathan alone with his thoughts. Nathan lingered, the quiet of the graveyard wrapping around him like a heavy cloak. His gaze returned to the rubble, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You fought well, Sarpedon," he said aloud, his voice low but firm. "Now you can rest. You''ve earned it. Leave the rest to us." A gust of wind swept through the graveyard, carrying the scent of salt from the nearby sea. Nathan''s black hair stirred in the breeze as he continued, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. "The Greeks will soon regret stepping on Trojan grounds. I promise you that." For a long moment, he remained there, the silence broken only by the occasional cry of a distant gull. Finally, he turned and walked toward a weathered bench under a sprawling olive tree. He sank onto it heavily, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. The wind picked up again, teasing the edges of his tunic as his thoughts spiraled into darker territory. The war had taken so much, not just from Troy but from him personally. Each loss chipped away at him, and now, for the first time, he found himself wondering if he would even survive long enough to see Apollo return. "Will I survive before Apollo finds a solution?" he wondered grimly. "And even if he does... will it be enough to save me?" Apollo, one of the mightiest and most influential gods, had gone to search for answers¡ªan antidote, perhaps, or some divine intervention to stave off Nathan''s impending doom. But even Apollo had warned him there were no guarantees. Nathan exhaled slowly, his breath forming a faint mist in the cool air. He was already bracing himself for the worst. If even Apollo, with all his wisdom and power, failed, then his fate was as good as sealed. And, strangely, Nathan found himself accepting that possibility. The thought of his own death no longer terrified him as it once had. "I should think about releasing Khione and Amaterasu while I still can," he mused, the decision forming in his mind like a heavy stone sinking into water. Helen''s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. She had expected the same tired reassurances, the placating words that people always offered to ease her guilt. But Nathan''s blunt response pierced through the facade she had come to anticipate. Her lips parted as if to speak, but Nathan wasn''t finished. He turned his gaze toward her, his expression firm but not unkind. "But you aren''t the one to blame," he continued. "Being the most beautiful woman in the world shouldn''t be a curse. It should be a blessing. No one should feel ashamed of something so natural and extraordinary. Feeling sad about it... that would be stupid. A waste." Helen blinked, his words hitting her with an unexpected force. For so long, her beauty had been a source of pain, a barrier that kept her from forming genuine connections. People saw her as a prize, an object of desire, but rarely as a person. The bonds she forged were often shallow, filled with hypocrisy and ulterior motives. Yet here was Nathan, speaking plainly, with neither flattery nor malice, but with a sincerity that cut through her defenses. She fell silent, her gaze dropping to the ground. Her shoulders trembled slightly, and soon, her eyes moistened with unshed tears. There had been a time when Helen knew happiness, when her days were filled with laughter and the warmth of genuine companionship. But those moments felt as if they belonged to another life, a distant memory buried beneath the weight of centuries. Now, she merely existed¡ªbreathing, walking, and talking, but not truly living. The thought of seeking an end to her pain had crossed her mind countless times, but she knew she could never allow herself that release. Too many lives had already been lost in her name. The least she could do was bear the burden of staying alive, a penance for the countless souls who could no longer do the same. Nathan''s words had stirred something in her, a faint ember of comfort amidst the cold ashes of regret. She glanced at him, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles, a rare and fragile thing. "Those were kind words," she said softly. "I am grateful. Thank you." Nathan said nothing in return, only nodding slightly as he observed her. There was a fleeting warmth in her smile, but he also saw the weight she carried. A lifetime of sorrow was etched into her face, hidden behind her grace and poise. Before the moment could linger, a sharp voice cut through the stillness like a blade. "Helen?!" Nathan turned toward the source of the voice and saw Paris rushing toward them, his features twisted in a mix of anger and concern. "I told you many times not to leave my side!" Paris barked, his tone harsh and commanding. "Stay inside the palace! It''s too dangerous for you to be out here!" The shift in Helen''s demeanor was immediate. Her expression, once soft and contemplative, turned cold, her smile fading into a look of quiet annoyance. Nathan noticed how her shoulders tensed, though she maintained her composure. For a moment, she didn''t respond, her gaze fixed on the grave before her. Finally, she turned toward Nathan, her voice steady and composed. "I wish we could speak further another time," she said, her tone polite but distant. Nathan nodded once, understanding the unspoken implications. "Whenever you''re ready." Helen turned to leave. "What?" Paris snapped, noticing her brief exchange with Nathan. His eyes narrowed as he glared at Nathan, his suspicion evident. Without waiting for an explanation, Paris hurried after Helen, his words trailing behind him like the echoes of a storm. Chapter 252 Thetiss desire Zeus sat alone in his grand chamber, a place of both majesty and solitude. The air around him was heavy, filled with the faint scent of burnt ambrosia and the soft hum of divine energy that never ceased in Olympus. Yet, despite the splendor of his surroundings, his mind was elsewhere¡ªpreoccupied by the raging chaos of the Trojan War, a conflict that had begun mere months ago but already felt like an eternity. The war was far more brutal than he had anticipated for a clash between mortals. The carnage and unrelenting fervor of the Greeks and Trojans alike mirrored battles waged among the gods themselves in ancient times. Once, such a spectacle would have filled him with a fiery excitement. His immortal blood would have boiled like the raging storm clouds he commanded, much like Ares''s blood burned now with bloodlust. But the centuries had tempered his spirit, and with the passage of ages, Zeus had come to appreciate the fragile beauty of peace. That appreciation had deepened in the face of this relentless war. The violence, the cunning manipulations, and the human suffering on display were enough to exhaust even the King of the Gods. Yet, more than the devastation in the mortal realm, what truly unsettled him were the inevitable consequences for Olympus. The delicate balance among the gods was beginning to fracture, and the tension between certain deities was nearing a dangerous breaking point. His wife, Hera, was ceaselessly clashing with Aphrodite and Artemis¡ªtwo of the most passionate and headstrong goddesses in the pantheon. Meanwhile, Athena and Ares, his brilliant daughter and war-driven son, could barely contain their hatred for one another. Their venomous disputes were no longer whispered arguments in council but open confrontations that threatened to spill over into chaos. And as if that were not enough, Poseidon, his older brother and Lord of the Seas, had taken the Greeks'' side in the war. It was an act of defiance that gnawed at Zeus''s authority. He had explicitly commanded that none of the gods interfere with the war, decreeing that such mortal affairs should remain untouched by divine hands. Yet, his warning had fallen on deaf ears. The gods were meddling regardless, skirting the edges of his decree without fully breaking it¡ªan audacious game that dared him to act. They thought their King was oblivious, that their actions went unnoticed. But Zeus saw everything. Every whispered influence, every covert blessing or curse sent to the battlefield¡ªit all added to the growing storm of frustration within him. The weight of their defiance brought him constant headaches, and even the skies themselves seemed to mirror his turmoil, darkened with unsettled clouds. Tonight, however, his thoughts were divided. A guest was expected, one he had not anticipated seeing for many years. Hera''s obsessive fixation on the war had worked in his favor, as she was preoccupied enough to be absent tonight. If she had known who was coming, her wrath would have been incandescent. The visitor was none other than Thetis, the sea nymph and mother of Achilles. A flicker of something unspoken passed through Zeus''s ancient heart at the thought of her. Long ago, there had been a story¡ªone whispered softly in the tides of memory. Zeus had fallen deeply, hopelessly in love with Thetis. She was radiant, her beauty as boundless as the seas from which she came, her presence as soothing and powerful as the waves themselves. Yet their love had been cut short by a prophecy, a warning delivered to him in no uncertain terms. If he were to cross the line with Thetis, she would bear a son destined to dethrone him.No?v(el)B\\jnn The fear of repeating the cycle of his father, Cronus, and his grandfather, Uranus, had stayed his hand. Though it pained him to sever their bond, he had turned away from Thetis, leaving their love buried in the sands of time. But even now, after so many years, he still held a soft spot for her. Despite all his power, she remained one of the few who could stir something fragile and human within the King of Olympus. As Zeus waited in his chamber, the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the marble halls. His piercing eyes turned toward the door, his expression unreadable yet tinged with a quiet anticipation. Soon enough, Thetis entered the chamber. "I''ve been waiting for you," Zeus said, his gaze immediately locking onto the stunning goddess. She was as breathtaking as ever, her beauty untouched by the passage of millennia. Time seemed powerless before her, her ageless perfection a testament to her divine essence. Yet, as Zeus admired her, a shadow of regret flickered across his expression. He dared not act on his desires, knowing the dire consequences. The fear of being dethroned loomed too large. That was her daughter, Khillea¡ªunyielding, headstrong, and entirely consumed by the fire of her destiny. Having given birth to her child, Khillea no longer feared dying without leaving behind her legacy. The prophecy had foretold her greatness, and she was determined to fulfill it, even if it meant marching to her death on the blood-soaked fields of Troy. Now, she waited, confident that Agamemnon and the other Greek leaders would come crawling back to her, begging her to return to the fight. Khillea knew her worth and the weight her presence carried on the battlefield. The Greeks were floundering without her, and she was certain they would soon swallow their pride and ask for her aid. But Thetis could not accept this path, no matter how inevitable it seemed. Khillea''s obsession with glory, with ensuring she would never be forgotten, blinded her to the sacrifices she was making. She was willing to leave her newborn child motherless, an orphan raised by others, just to etch her name into the annals of history. It was a cruel irony to Thetis. Her daughter''s relentless pursuit of immortality through legend would only sever her ties to the life that truly mattered. "Please," Thetis said at last, her voice breaking as she gazed at Zeus with pleading eyes. "Let the Trojans win this war." The plea hung heavy in the room, filled with a desperation only a mother could feel. "If the Trojans are victorious," she continued, her tone more measured but no less urgent, "Agamemnon will be defeated, and the Greeks will have no choice but to retreat. They will abandon their campaign and leave Trojan lands. Even Khillea will have no reason to fight. She would not sacrifice her child''s future to lead an army into a hopeless battle, not when the Greeks have already fallen. She would return home, Zeus. She would raise her child as any mother should." Her words were heartfelt, each syllable imbued with a yearning for a simpler, peaceful life for her daughter¡ªa life Thetis herself had never truly known. But Zeus sighed deeply, his expression unreadable as his divine gaze shifted away from her. The sound of his sigh grated against Thetis''s nerves, and she clenched her fists, her frustration boiling over. "Hera, Poseidon, and Athena are openly breaking your decrees," she snapped, her voice rising. "They are doing far more than you allow, helping the Greeks in ways you cannot deny. Why can''t you do the same for the Trojans? Or does your word only bind you, and not them?" Zeus''s sharp eyes flicked back to her, his calm demeanor masking the storm brewing within. "Aphrodite, Artemis, and Ares are aiding the Trojans just as much," he countered, his voice even. "Not as much as Hera and Poseidon, and you know it," Thetis shot back, her eyes blazing with defiance. "They flout your authority, Zeus. Your wife, your brother¡ªthey don''t care about your words or your decrees. They will break every rule you set until the Trojans are crushed, until Khillea is dead! Are you truly going to stand by and allow this to happen? Will you let them mock your rule while doing nothing?" Zeus fell silent, her accusations striking a chord. Her words clawed at his pride, his authority, and his conscience all at once. He hated how accurate they were, how vulnerable they made him feel. His fist clenched tightly on the armrest of his golden throne, his knuckles whitening. The room was filled with an almost oppressive silence as he mulled over her plea, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like the skies he once held. Thetis''s gaze remained fixed on him, unwavering in her determination. Finally, Zeus exhaled slowly, opening his eyes. Lightning flickered faintly in their depths, a reflection of his divine power and resolve. "I will not allow the Trojans to win outright," he said, his voice carrying the authority of Olympus itself. "But I will help them." Chapter 253 Another night with Aisha in Greek camps * The Greek camp was still bustling with activity, though the energy had dimmed compared to the war''s earlier days. When the campaign first began, the air had been electric with the cries of warriors eager for glory, their spirits high with promises of swift victory. Now, as time dragged on, the harsh realities of a prolonged conflict weighed heavily on them, and the once-fiery fervor had dulled to a simmering persistence. The war between the Greeks and Trojans had reached a grueling stalemate, with neither side gaining a decisive advantage in recent weeks. At one point, it seemed the Greeks had the upper hand, poised to push the Trojans to the brink of defeat. Their commanders had strategized with precision, and their warriors had surged forward with renewed vigor. For a fleeting moment, it appeared as though the long and arduous siege might finally come to an end. Yet fate, as it often does, had other plans, and two events occurred that tilted the balance back in favor of Troy. The first was the unexpected return of the mercenary Heiron. He had been grievously wounded in a fierce battle against the formidable Diomedes, who had fought with the divine blessing of Poseidon himself. The wound was deep, almost fatal, and for a time, the Greeks had celebrated, believing they had rid themselves of a dangerous foe. But Heiron''s recovery was nothing short of miraculous. His presence alone reignited the Trojans'' morale, a living symbol of their resilience against impossible odds. The second shift was more subtle, yet its effects were undeniable. There was a strange and almost eerie change in the Trojans'' demeanor. Their soldiers seemed revitalized, their stamina inexhaustible. Where weariness and despair should have taken hold, there was instead an unshakable determination. Their blows landed harder, their shields held firmer, and their eyes burned with a fire that even the longest battles could not extinguish. It was as if some unseen force had swept through their ranks, banishing the exhaustion that had built up over countless months of relentless warfare. Whispers in the Greek camp suggested the involvement of a divine hand, though none could say which god or goddess had favored their enemies so generously. Despite these setbacks, the Greek camp retained an air of defiance. They had their own divine allies to call upon, none more crucial than Asclepius, the god of medicine. His presence had been a blessing, ensuring that their wounded warriors returned to the battlefield faster than their enemies could anticipate. The Greeks knew they were far from defeated; their pride as the mightiest coalition of Hellenic forces kept their spirits from waning completely. Amidst the camp''s tempered liveliness, one particular tent stood out. Unlike the others, which were filled with the low hum of strategists murmuring over maps or warriors sharpening their blades, this tent seemed to overflow with sexual energy. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã "Haaan~~yes! Yes!" Aisha''s voice broke through the tent, her moans loud, raw, desperate, as my tongue flicked over her pert, rose-colored nipple. Each circle, each playful lap, sent jolts of electric pleasure racing through her. Her back arched instinctively, thrusting her breast closer into my hungry mouth, her body begging for more without words. My left hand moved with purpose, fingers gliding along the slick heat of her dripping folds, tracing the outer lips in slow, teasing strokes. Her wetness coated my fingers like silk, the sensation drawing a satisfied hum from me. "You''re so wet for me, Aisha," I whispered, my voice low, throaty. My other hand cupped her other breast, thumb and forefinger rolling her stiff nipple between them, drawing a sharp gasp from her quivering lips. "Hmmmnnn... haaaa!??~~" she tilted her head back, her black hair spilling over her shoulders like a cascading waterfall, lips parted in bliss as her body writhed under my touch. The soft moans escaped her, punctuated by little whimpers, each sound driving my need higher. Satisfied with the attention to her breasts, I trailed my tongue further. Every inch of her skin tasted intoxicating, her natural scent mingling with her arousal. My tongue traced a line along her collarbone, up the curve of her throat, lingering on her sensitive neck where I sucked gently. Aisha shuddered, her fingers clutching the ground''s carpet as I continued upward, nibbling along her jawline until I reached her lips. I kissed her deeply, possessively, our mouths molding together as my tongue danced with hers. Her taste was addictive, a sweet blend of her arousal and something uniquely Aisha. Between kisses, I let my tongue glide along her lips, savoring her trembling breaths. "Open your mouth, Aisha," I growled, a command more than a request. She obeyed immediately, parting her lips, her soft panting making her even more irresistible. I slid two fingers into her mouth, the roughness of the act igniting a fire in both of us. She wrapped her tongue around my fingers, sucking them with a deliberate sensuality that made my cock throb painfully in my pants. I smirked, watching her come undone, her face flushed, her hair sticking to her sweat-damp skin. "Good girl," I murmured, my voice thick with lust. I didn''t stop. Her orgasm was my fuel, my cock plunging into her drenched core with renewed vigor, her tightness sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. For the next ten minutes, the room was filled with nothing but the sounds of our bodies colliding, wet and rhythmic, the slap of my balls hitting her soaked pussy and round ass cheeks echoing like music in my ears. Aisha''s moans were unrelenting, louder with every thrust, her voice raw, hoarse, pleading for more, for everything I could give her. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã "Haaa..." I exhaled heavily, collapsing beside Aisha, utterly drained. My muscles ached, and my mind felt like a battlefield of its own after the day''s grueling fight. The clash had been brutal, a relentless cycle of blood and chaos, but even amidst the carnage, my thoughts had never strayed far from Aisha. The moment the battle ended, I made my way through the darkness, risking everything to infiltrate the Greek camp just to see her again. The reunion had been wordless, almost primal. We didn''t exchange pleasantries, nor did we waste time with small talk. The weight of separation, worry, and longing spoke louder than any words could. In an instant, we were tangled together, our desperation and relief finding solace in each other''s arms. It wasn''t just passion; it was a visceral reminder that we were both still alive. Now, lying beside her, my breathing steadied as I turned my head to look at her. Aisha rested beneath the thin cover, her body still flushed and glistening with sweat. Her dark hair clung to her damp skin, framing her face in a way that made her beauty seem almost otherworldly. She gazed at me with a soft smile, her eyes still carrying traces of worry, even as her lips curled upward. But then her gaze faltered. She looked down, her fingers gripping the edge of the cover tightly. Her voice, when it came, was a quiet tremor. "I thought... I thought something had happened to you. I thought I''d lost you again..." Aisha''s words were fragile, like a porcelain vase on the verge of shattering. Without thinking, I reached out and stroked her cheek, my thumb brushing away a bead of sweat. Her skin was warm under my touch, a reminder of her humanity, her vulnerability. "I won''t die that easily," I said softly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "You should know that by now." She nodded, her gaze lifting to meet mine. "Yes... I know," she whispered, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her lingering fear. It was clear that her worry had consumed her in my absence. When I first saw her again, there had been a wildness in her eyes, a madness born of too many sleepless nights and unanswered prayers. Now, as she lay beside me, that feral intensity had softened, replaced by something far more seductive. Her lips curved into a sly, alluring smile as she leaned closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns across my chest. "Nathan..." she began, her tone light and teasing at first. Then, as if gathering courage, she took a deep breath and spoke again. "Nathan, I''m pregnant." Chapter 254 Aisha pregnant? It was clear that her worry had consumed her in my absence. When I first saw her again, there had been a wildness in her eyes, a madness born of too many sleepless nights and unanswered prayers. Now, as she lay beside me, that feral intensity had softened, replaced by something far more seductive. Her lips curved into a sly, alluring smile as she leaned closer, her fingers tracing idle patterns across my chest. "Nathan..." she began, her tone light and teasing at first. Then, as if gathering courage, she took a deep breath and spoke again. "Nathan, I''m pregnant." "Pregnant?" I asked, my voice steady but laced with a hint of disbelief. I needed to hear her confirm it, as though the word itself was too momentous to grasp without her affirmation. "Yes," Aisha nodded, her expression soft yet glowing. She placed a hand gently over her stomach, her movements tender, as if cradling the very life that now grew within her. "I wasn''t sure at first, but now I can feel it," she said, her lips curving into a smile so radiant it could rival the dawn. The joy in her eyes was unmistakable, and it struck me in a way I hadn''t anticipated. I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a slow breath. "You should have told me before we started... you know," I said, shaking my head in mild exasperation. I gave her a look, but she just laughed, a light, carefree sound that belied the seriousness of the moment. "I mean it, Aisha. Having sex while pregnant could be dangerous," I continued, my tone firm but not unkind. Her laughter softened, and her expression turned apologetic. "I know," she admitted, her fingers brushing over her belly again. "But when I saw you... I just couldn''t hold back." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "And now? You''re keeping the baby?" She looked up at me with unwavering certainty. "Yes. I will." Her words were resolute, her smile unwavering, and for a moment, all the noise of the world seemed to fade away. But then reality crept back in, heavy and insistent. "What about the war?" I asked, my voice grave. "If you''re keeping the baby, I don''t want you fighting anymore." Her smile faltered slightly, and a shadow passed over her face. "Then... I wouldn''t be able to see you?" Her question hit me harder than I expected. The thought of her staying behind, away from the chaos of the battlefield but also away from me, was a bitter pill to swallow. She had just reunited with me after so long, and I knew how much these fleeting moments we spent together meant to her. But I couldn''t let her risk everything¡ªnot when there was a life growing inside her. "I know," I said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "But that''s the price to pay. Do you really want to endanger the baby?" Her gaze lowered, her hand returning to her stomach. She was silent for a moment, her thoughts unreadable, but then she nodded, her fingers tightening slightly against her abdomen. "Okay," she whispered, her voice steady. "I won''t take part in the war anymore." Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I hadn''t realized I was holding. "Thank you," I said, my voice sincere. If she had resisted, I would have had to force her hand, and I didn''t like the thought of doing so. But Aisha was not someone consumed by the lust for battle. She had always fought with purpose, not for the thrill of it, and for that, I was grateful. Still, the reality of her words began to sink in. She was really pregnant. Another life, fragile and full of possibility, had been entrusted to me. Somehow, amidst the chaos and bloodshed that defined my world, the thought filled me with a quiet, unexpected happiness. This would be my second child. After Sara¡ªthe daughter I had with Amelia¡ªthis child would become another light in my life, another reason to keep fighting, another soul I needed to protect. Then there was Odysseus. Unlike Agamemnon, whose arrogance and greed drove him, Odysseus fought out of a misplaced sense of loyalty. He didn''t care for glory or spoils. No, his allegiance was to Agamemnon, twisted as it was, and that made him dangerous. If Agamemnon were to die, Odysseus would have no reason to fight. But the problem didn''t end there. Odysseus was more than just a soldier. He was a strategist, a manipulator, and above all, the man standing between us and Agamemnon. If we ever hoped to reach the coward hiding at the rear of the battlefield, Odysseus had to be dealt with first. His cunning would otherwise plague us at every turn, and he''d ensure Agamemnon remained untouchable. Both of them had to die in the end. And if Achilles had still been in the picture, he too would have been a threat requiring elimination. But, much to my relief, Achilles had withdrawn. Agamemnon''s insufferable arrogance had proven too much, even for the mighty warrior, and he had abandoned the fight altogether. A rare stroke of fortune in this gods-forsaken war. I rose to my feet, and put on my clothes and my stolen Spartan armor thinking this. "I have to leave before I gather unwanted attention," I told Aisha, my voice low. She stood as well, her movements slow, her smile tinged with sadness. The weight of our circumstances hung heavy in the air between us. We both knew the truth¡ªour moments together would be fleeting, rare like stolen breaths of peace in a world suffocating with chaos. I reached for her, pulling her close, and pressed my lips to hers. The kiss deepened, lingering, as if we could pour everything we felt but couldn''t say into that single connection. When I finally pulled away, a faint trail of saliva connected us. "I promise it will be better after this," I said. Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with a mixture of hope and doubt. "I know," she whispered, but then her expression grew serious, her tone heavier. "But promise me one thing." "What is it?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. "Don''t die," she said firmly, her gaze unwavering. "Not in this war. Not ever. Promise me." The intensity of her words struck a chord deep within me. She must have noticed something in my expression, some flicker of hesitation or shadow of doubt, but I couldn''t let her see the full truth. I couldn''t let her know how precarious my survival truly was. "I won''t be killed that easily," I said simply, a small smile tugging at my lips to mask the storm inside. It wasn''t a promise I could make, not honestly. But it was what she needed to hear. She studied my face for a moment longer, her fingers brushing against my hand as if reluctant to let go. Then, with a quiet sigh, she nodded. I nodded and stepped out of the tent. Chapter 255 Patrocluss sadness Patroclus stood at the edge of the camp, staring out at the flickering fires of the Greek encampment. His heart was heavy, weighed down by emotions he couldn''t quite name. Since the beginning, he had dreamed of being part of this war, fighting alongside his comrades, proving himself worthy of the warrior''s blood that coursed through his veins. Perhaps it was his Greek heritage, that innate hunger for battle and glory, that had driven him here. Yet even in the midst of his dreams, he''d harbored no desire to destroy Troy or slaughter its people. No. Patroclus had always believed the best outcome would be a swift conquest¡ªtaking the city, exacting a ransom so large it would leave Troy humbled but intact, and then departing. There was no honor, in his eyes, in shedding the blood of innocents. That wasn''t how he was raised, and it wasn''t who he wanted to become. But now, something far graver consumed his thoughts. The vision haunted him¡ªa prophecy that spoke of Khillea''s fate should she take part in the war. She would die, the vision said, her life ending upon Trojan soil. Patroclus could hardly bear the thought. Khillea wasn''t just his cousin; she was like an elder sister to him. When he had been a fragile, timid boy, it was Khillea who had taken him under her wing. She had trained him, molded him into the man he was today. Her strength, her unwavering determination, had been his guiding star. It had never mattered to him that she was a woman. To Patroclus, she was simply Khillea¡ªformidable, brilliant, and irreplaceable. The idea of losing her was unbearable. Yet Patroclus understood her too well. He knew why she had thrown herself into this war despite the prophecy. Khillea had longed to leave an indelible mark on the world, to be remembered not as a shadow of the name "Achilles," but as herself¡ªthe strongest woman to ever walk the earth. She wanted to shatter the chains of that borrowed name and carve her own legacy. For that reason alone, Patroclus had held his tongue, despite the torment it brought him. He couldn''t bring himself to speak against her will. But lately, things had changed for the worse. The spark in Khillea''s eyes had dimmed, her once-unwavering resolve shaken. It all started when Agamemnon, in his arrogance, demanded Briseis¡ªKhillea''s prize of war. Khillea had handed Briseis over. She had no choice. Agamemnon was the self-proclaimed leader of the coalition, and the demands of the other Greek kings, coupled with Athena''s insistence, had left her cornered. Since that day, Khillea had withdrawn from the war entirely. She refused to march, refused to fight. She and her army of Myrmidons remained in the camp, their weapons idle. Khillea herself stayed cloistered in her tent, watching the war unfold from a distance. Patroclus knew there was more to her withdrawal than what others might assume. Whispers passed through the camp, speculating that she stayed hidden because of her incestuous liaison with her own cousin, Patroclus. But Patroclus knew better. He knew his cousin. Khillea wasn''t the type to abandon the battlefield, not when glory awaited her. Not when she could be the first Greek woman to step foot inside Troy, an image that would forever etch her name into the annals of history. Patroclus knew. He had always known. Khillea was not one to let an insult slide without retribution. She wasn''t sulking in her tent out of defeat or despair. No, she was waiting¡ªbiding her time like a lioness, poised to strike when the Greeks were at their weakest. Yes, all Greeks were allied against Troy, but that alliance was fragile. Each city''s army was a world of its own, fueled by rivalry and pride. Spartans, Myrmidons, Athenians¡ªall competed to prove themselves the strongest and most disciplined, their kings the most capable. The tension between the factions was palpable. This fractured camaraderie worked to Nathan''s advantage. Nobody will suspect him as a Trojan mercenary just because he kept distance and avoided myrmidons after all. "Nathan." With that in his mind, Patroclus called. Nathan stopped in his tracks, shoulders stiffening at the mention of his real name. There was a beat of silence as he acknowledged the call, weighing his options. Avoiding Patroclus was always the safest route, but tonight that was impossible. Slowly, Nathan turned. His face was a mask of nonchalance, his tone clipped. "What?" Patroclus stepped closer, his familiar warmth masking an undercurrent of purpose. "You remember me, don''t you?" Nathan arched an eyebrow, his voice laced with sarcasm. "How could I forget Achilles''s shadow?" Patroclus chuckled at the jab, his laugh genuine. "Good. Because finding you wasn''t easy. I never imagined anyone would dare give us a fake name." Nathan''s expression didn''t falter, though the statement caught him off guard. What was Patroclus implying? He couldn''t afford to show any cracks in his facade, so he opted for a calculated reply¡ªone that would play into the existing tension between the Greeks. "I was told to keep my distance after...everything," Nathan said vaguely, letting the implication hang in the air. Patroclus nodded knowingly, the ambiguity fitting neatly into the strained relations between the armies. It was the perfect deflection, and Nathan noted the glimmer of understanding in Patroclus''s eyes. "Fair enough," Patroclus said. "But I need you to come with me this time." Nathan''s frown deepened. He crossed his arms, his tone sharp with irritation. "Does Achilles want me to bed another one of his women?" Patroclus burst into laughter, the sound carrying through the camp. The suggestion, while bold, was so far from the truth that it caught him completely off guard. Nathan, however, remained stone-faced, his patience clearly wearing thin. "No, no," Patroclus managed between chuckles, wiping at his eyes. "I swear, it''s nothing like that. Trust me, you won''t face any trouble from the Spartans. This will only take a moment." Patroclus''s honesty was disarming, though Nathan still felt the familiar tug of suspicion. He searched Patroclus''s face, looking for any hint of deceit. Finding none, he exhaled slowly and gave a reluctant nod. "Fine." Chapter 256 Seeing Khillea again... "Is that Achilles who wishes to see me?" I asked Patroclus, narrowing my eyes. The last time Achilles had requested my presence, he hadn''t even bothered to show up. Instead, he''d sent me to entertain Khillea. While I couldn''t deny she had been a gift worth my time, the peculiar incident still left questions lingering in my mind. Why summon me in the first place if he never intended to meet? Patroclus shook his head, offering a faint smile as if trying to reassure me. "No... Not Achilles. He''s not here, so you don''t have to worry." I nodded my head. "I see. So he''s really left Troy, then." "Not exactly," Patroclus replied with a bitter laugh that hinted at a deeper frustration. "I think he''ll come back eventually. He''s just waiting for Agamemnon''s apologies." "Agamemnon''s apologies?" I echoed, frowning at the absurdity of the thought. The idea of that proud, arrogant king lowering himself to apologize seemed about as likely as the gods themselves descending to fight this war in our place. Agamemnon was not the kind of man to admit fault, let alone beg forgiveness. Besides, as far as the war was concerned, we were far from desperate. "It sounds unbelievable, doesn''t it?" Patroclus said, his tone caught somewhere between amusement and disillusionment. "But Achilles seems convinced you lot won''t win this war against the Trojans without us." I couldn''t entirely argue with that. Achilles was not wrong to think the tide of this conflict teetered on the edge of balance. As things stood, the Greeks and the Trojans were locked in a stalemate. If Achilles and his Myrmidons were to rejoin the fray, their prowess could tip the scales decisively in favor of the Greeks. That much was undeniable. But there was an opportunity in their absence. "Then we''ll just have to win before he has a chance to return," I said, my voice firm. "Strike while he''s still sulking over Agamemnon''s pride." Patroclus didn''t respond immediately. Instead, a strange glint flickered in his eyes. It was only after a brief silence that he spoke again. "By the way, you did well with Khillea back then," he said casually, as if he were complimenting my skill in battle rather than something far more intimate. I blinked at him, momentarily caught off guard by the remark. Did well? Did he mean by bedding Achilles'' woman? The entire situation had been strange enough, but Patroclus'' casual attitude toward it was baffling. Something was undeniably off about these men. "I appreciated the gift," I replied cautiously, choosing my words with care. "She''s... an impressive woman." And she was. Beautiful, sharp, and disarmingly perceptive¡ªKhillea had left a lasting impression on me. Despite the odd circumstances of our meeting, I couldn''t deny that I had found her company enjoyable, even grounding. "How is she?" I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop myself. "Khillea?" Patroclus tilted his head, his expression softening. "She''s happy. Happier than I''ve seen her in quite some time, that''s for certain." There was something peculiar in his tone, something almost reverent. It made me pause. "She''s important to Achilles, isn''t she?" I finally asked, unable to keep the curiosity from my voice. Patroclus hesitated for a moment before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice as though revealing a sacred secret. "Yes, she is. You could even consider her Achilles'' sister, in a way. But don''t tell anyone else." "Achilles'' sister?" Her words caught me off guard, and I found myself frowning. "Thank me? For what, exactly?" Khillea chuckled, a sultry sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "For everything," she said, her gaze never leaving mine. "For giving me something I thought I''d never have." I hesitated, my thoughts clouded with confusion. "Anyone could have done the same," I said finally, shrugging. Her eyes narrowed, a spark of mischief lighting within them. "No," she said firmly, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Not just anyone. You were my first... and the best." Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and before I could react, she reached out, her hand brushing against the bulge beneath my pants. "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice strained as I felt my body betray me. Her touch, her presence¡ªit was intoxicating. This woman had a power over me that was impossible to deny. "As I said," she murmured, her lips curving into a wickedly seductive smile. "You deserve a reward for what you''ve given me." Her hand moved slowly, deliberately, caressing the growing hardness beneath my pants. Each touch sent a jolt of heat coursing through me, making it increasingly difficult to think clearly. "Khillea," I managed to say, though her name came out more like a plea than a warning. She leaned in closer, her golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and desire. "Relax," she whispered, her breath warm against my skin. "This is my way of showing gratitude. Let me take care of you... as you''ve taken care of me." "Patroclus might come back soon," I said, my voice low and steady, though the tension in the air between us was palpable. Khillea''s lips curled into a sly smile, her golden eyes shimmering with a mischievous glint. "True, but not that soon. He''s probably gone to find my mother. That will take time... which means we have a little while to ourselves," she murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she closed the distance between us. Before I could respond, her lips found mine. Soft, warm, and insistent, her kiss was like a spark that ignited something primal within me. "Hmmmnnnn~~~," she sighed against my lips, the sound both tender and teasing. I couldn''t hold back¡ªI kissed her back, meeting her fervor with my own. Her lips moved against mine, eager and demanding, while her hands roamed across my arms, tracing the contours of my muscles. "Take this off, Nathan," she whispered breathlessly, her fingers tugging impatiently at the straps of my armor. Instead of answering, I deepened the kiss, biting her lower lip gently before plunging my tongue into her mouth. "Hmnnnnnn!" Khillea moaned softly, surrendering to the intensity of the kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer as our tongues danced together, our exchange heated and intoxicating. The taste of her was sweet, almost addictive, as we shared each breath, each movement in perfect sync. My hands moved instinctively to the straps of my armor, the weight of the metal feeling almost oppressive now. With quick, practiced movements, I began to unfasten it. Khillea pulled back slightly, her golden eyes darkened with desire as they watched me. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling as she gazed at me with unrestrained want. The armor hit the ground with a dull thud, the sound barely registering as I focused on her. "Looks like I''m about to have another memorable moment with you," I said, a smirk tugging at my lips as I reached for her again. Chapter 257 Khilleas Tongue Work (3) * Khillea pulled back slightly, her golden eyes darkened with desire as they watched me. Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling as she gazed at me with unrestrained want. The armor hit the ground with a dull thud, the sound barely registering as I focused on her. "Looks like I''m about to have another memorable moment with you," I said, a smirk tugging at my lips as I reached for her again. Khillea laughed softly, a sound both alluring and filled with anticipation. "I hope you''re ready," she whispered, her fingers trailing across my chest now that the armor was gone. I continued kissing Khillea fiercely, my lips dominating hers, our mouths moving together in a wild, heated rhythm. Her breath hitched as I pulled her closer, tongues tangling in a wet, hungry dance that left us both breathless. My heart pounded in time with the growing heat between us, her body pressing against mine, soft curves molding into my firm edges. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Khillea''s hand slipped under my waistband, her soft fingers grazing the hot, rigid length of my swelling cock. Her touch sent a jolt through me, a spark igniting a fire I couldn''t contain. "Hmmmnn~~ it feels bigger than before," she murmured, her words laced with teasing as her lips brushed mine again, her fingers tightening slightly around me. I grinned, my voice a low growl. "You''ll see how big it is once it''s inside your mouth," I said, capturing her lower lip between my teeth and sucking gently, savoring her taste. Khillea''s smile turned sultry, her gold eyes sparkling with intent as she began to sink to her knees. Her movements were slow, deliberate, every second an invitation to devour her with my gaze. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants, tugging them down in one smooth motion. My cock sprang free, the thick shaft standing tall and hard, the tip flushed with need. It was right in front of her face, inches from her parted lips. She reached out with her delicate hand, wrapping it around my girth, her touch both soft and firm, sending a shiver rippling down my spine. Her lips hovered close to the tip, her breath warm against my sensitive skin, teasing me before she pressed a delicate, lingering kiss to the glans. "Ahhh," I groaned, the sensation shooting through me like lightning, my body tensing at her teasing affection. Khillea''s cheeks flushed a deeper pink, a shy smile curving her lips. "It smells like... you already," she said softly, her voice tinged with curiosity and mischief. Her words reminded me of Aisha, how moments ago I had drained myself into her. And yet, the moment Khillea appeared, my body had reignited, my balls already tightening with anticipation, ready to give her everything. "Sluuuuurp~" The obscene wet sounds echoed in the room, her eagerness palpable as she adjusted to my size, her determination driving her to take more of me, despite the way her cheeks flushed and her breathing came in short, muffled bursts. "Good, keep going..." I murmured, my hand gently brushing her cheek, feeling the heat radiating from her skin as her lips stretched further. Her gaze flicked upward to meet mine, her green eyes hazy with lust, shimmering with moisture from the strain, but she didn''t falter. I began moving my hips in slow, deliberate thrusts, the sensation of her warm, wet mouth engulfing me inch by inch utterly intoxicating. Her soft lips tightened around me, creating a perfect seal that sent jolts of pleasure straight to my core. As I pushed deeper, Khillea''s throat quivered, but she made no effort to pull back; instead, she matched my pace, her head bobbing eagerly as she welcomed me further. "Gluuurp! Hmmffh! Hmmffh! Hmfff!!" Her moans vibrated around my shaft, her flushed cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder, her tongue swirling and stroking the length of me, each movement more fervent than the last. Her saliva dripped down, pooling at the base of my cock, her dedication leaving me in awe. My hand trembled as I gripped her fiery red hair, the silken strands tangling between my fingers while my other hand cupped the back of her head. I couldn''t resist guiding her, my hips moving faster now, my cock disappearing deeper into her warm mouth with each thrust. The sight of her on her knees, her lips stretched wide, her pregnant belly swelling beneath her dress¡ªit was an overwhelming display of submission and devotion. Through her dress, I could make out the hardened peaks of her nipples, pressing against the thin fabric. The sight only fueled my desire, and I groaned, my voice rough and heavy with need. "Fuck, Khillea..." Her moans grew more frantic, her mouth working faster as if desperate to please me, the pace of her head matching my thrusts. "Gluuurp! Hmfff! Hmmmfff~~" she gagged slightly, her throat tightening deliciously around me as I pushed deeper, testing her limits. I couldn''t hold back anymore. My free hand gripped her hair firmly, holding her in place as I drove my cock to the hilt, her lips pressing against the base of my shaft. "Hmmmfh!!" she groaned, a strained sound that sent shivers racing down my spine as the head of my cock pressed against the back of her throat. "Take it, Khillea," I growled, my voice raw, just as I felt the pressure explode. Hot, thick spurts of semen shot into her mouth, each pulse hitting her tongue with intensity, coating every inch of her throat. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes wet with tears, her throat contracting as she struggled to swallow my release. Her groan turned into a choked moan, her body trembling as I kept pumping, my orgasm seeming endless, painting her mouth white with every spurt. "Fuuuuck," I hissed, the pleasure blinding, my grip on her hair tightening as wave after wave left me. Khillea''s eyes rolled back slightly, her body responding instinctively, her lips still wrapped tightly around me as I spilled everything into her. When the last pulse subsided, I sighed deeply, overwhelmed by the sheer ecstasy she had given me. Her throat quivered around me, a soft gag escaping her as I finally released her hair and pulled out. Thick ropes of saliva mixed with cum trailed from her lips to the tip of my cock. Khillea coughed slightly, her breathing ragged as she wiped at her chin, though her lips remained curved in a sultry smile. "Thank you for the meal~~??," she purred, her voice husky, her tongue darting out to lick the remnants of my release from her lips. The sight of her, disheveled and utterly debauched, left me breathless, and I couldn''t help but wonder how soon I could taste her next. Chapter 258 Khilleas remaining Hole * (1) "Thank you for the meal??," she purred, her voice husky, her tongue darting out to lick the remnants of my release from her lips. The sight of her, disheveled and utterly debauched, left me breathless, and I couldn''t help but wonder how soon I could taste her next. Khillea''s lips curled into a sly smile as my fingers fumbled with the waistband of my pants, ready to leave this heated moment behind. But her hand shot out, firm and insistent, gripping my arm with a strength that could''ve bent steel. Her voice was low, edged with a sultry defiance. "What are you doing, Nathan?" she asked, her eyes dark pools pulling me in. I frowned, confused by her persistence. "What do you mean? It''s over." Her laugh was soft, like velvet laced with a challenge. "Over? You didn''t fuck me yet." Her words, so brazen, hung in the charged air between us. I exhaled sharply, fighting the surge of heat that rose within me. "You''re pregnant, Khillea," I said flatly, like a shield to push her back. "It''s dangerous." Her head tilted, the corner of her lips twitching upward as if I''d told a ridiculous joke. "Dangerous?" she repeated, incredulous. "For who? The baby?" Her laughter now was richer, teasing. "You''re already worrying like a father. How cute." "It''s not about being cute," I shot back, feeling my irritation edge into my voice. "I''m not risking it." Khillea''s fingers brushed against my chest, trailing down with a deliberate slowness. "Nathan," she murmured, voice a gentle coaxing flame. "Don''t you trust me? My body is stronger than you seem to think. You know what I am, don''t you?" Her gaze burned into mine, her confidence unshaken. I swallowed hard. Of course, I knew. She was more than mortal, born of a goddess, carrying the bloodline of legends. But even gods had vulnerabilities, didn''t they? "Still," I began, hesitating. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against my ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. "Hera herself blessed me," she whispered, her voice dripping with certainty. "She said my child will be born strong, unharmed. So stop worrying." I blinked, startled. Hera? She''d sought divine assurance for this? "I promise you," she said, her fingers gliding lower, brushing over the strained fabric of my pants. "This might be the last time we share something like this. Don''t waste it." Her voice softened, but her hand didn''t, slipping down with deliberate pressure until it was impossible to ignore the building ache she incited. My thumb found her there, pressing lightly, teasing her entrance with the gentlest pressure. Her body reacted instantly, a tremor rippling through her as her hips bucked upward. "Hnnnmmm????, Nathan!" she gasped, her hands gripping the sheets. Her hole fluttered, tightening under my touch but then softening, inviting. I couldn''t resist. Using her slick arousal, I coated my thumb, circling her tight ring until it gleamed, the tension in her body melting as I worked her open, just a little. "You''re perfect," I murmured, my voice thick with lust. "Relax for me, Khillea." "Haaaah??, I can feel it... I can feel your heat... f-fill me!" she whimpered, her voice cracking as I guided the head of my cock against her soaked pussy while my thumb continued its relentless exploration. Her moans grew louder, her body melting into mine as I began to push forward. But I held back, teasing her, drawing out every ounce of anticipation. "Not so fast," I whispered, one hand massaging her breast while my lips brushed her ear. "I''ll take every inch of you, but you need to relax for me completely." Khillea nodded, her breath ragged as she willed her body to relax, her hips trembling with both anticipation and fear. I could feel the subtle softening of her tight entrance, her body beginning to yield. Slowly, carefully, I pressed forward, my dick poised against her untouched anal hole. The moment her tense muscles gave way, I knew it was time. My tip breached her, and her reaction was immediate¡ªa sharp, guttural moan tore from her lips, loud and raw, her head snapping back as her wide eyes locked onto mine. "HAAANGHNNNN!!!" she cried, her voice trembling with a mix of pain and ecstasy. Her walls clenched around me, impossibly tight, gripping me with a pressure that was almost maddening. I paused, allowing her time to adjust, feeling the pulsing heat of her contracting around just the head of my cock. Her ankle twitched, her toes curling as her body instinctively fought to close around me. "Khillea," I murmured, my voice thick with both lust and restraint. "You''re incredible... so tight, so perfect." Her nails dug into the sheets as if clinging to the last threads of sanity, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip hard enough to turn it pale. "NHGHHNNN!!" she whimpered, her thighs quaking as I pushed deeper, inch by agonizing inch, her small hole stretching to accommodate me. Her second virginity was mine, the tight, velvety walls clamping down, giving no quarter. The sheer pleasure of her resistance was intoxicating, and I had to fight not to lose myself entirely in her. Halfway in now, I stilled, savoring the way her body trembled beneath me, her back arching as though trying to escape the overwhelming sensation while her hips betrayed her, tilting upward for more. Her moans grew frantic, her lips parting to release short, broken cries of pleasure. "HAAAN.... HAA! OOOOH! HAAAAN!!" she gasped, her voice a symphony of surrender and need. "Khillea," I whispered, my hand moving to her flushed cheek, brushing damp strands of hair from her face. "You''re taking me so beautifully." I kissed her temple, grounding her in the storm of sensations, letting her know I was with her, guiding her through it. When I was buried deep enough, I stopped, letting her body acclimate to the stretch. Her hole fluttered around me, squeezing rhythmically as if testing the limits of what it could handle. Her breaths were shallow, her chest heaving as sweat glistened on her skin, highlighting every curve of her trembling body. "Are you ready for me to move?" I asked, my voice low, my restraint hanging by a thread. Her response was immediate. "Haaa...yes...Nathan...do it. Fuck me...fuck my ass..." she whispered hoarsely, her words a desperate plea. I pulled back slightly, feeling her tightness drag against my length, the sensation almost unbearable. Then I pushed in again, a slow, deliberate thrust that made her whole body jolt. "HAAAA!! OOOOH, YEEESSSS! NATHAAAAN!" she screamed, her voice ragged and wild, her hands fisting the sheets as I set a rhythm, slow and deep, letting her feel every inch of me. Her body began to move in sync with mine, her hips lifting to meet my thrusts as she gave in completely, surrendering to the exquisite agony of being filled so completely. Her moans grew louder, her cries echoing off the walls as I claimed her ass, each movement sending ripples of ecstasy through us both. Chapter 259 Khilleas remaining hole * (2) Her body began to move in sync with mine, her hips lifting to meet my thrusts as she gave in completely, surrendering to the exquisite agony of being filled so completely. Her moans grew louder, her cries echoing off the walls as I claimed her ass, each movement sending ripples of ecstasy through us both. My dick twitched with need as I pulled out, my shaft glistening with her juices and the tight grip of her ass lingering in my mind like a siren''s call. Khillea lay beneath me, her body trembling, her lips parted as her breath came in ragged gasps. But I wasn''t done. Not even close. "Turn around," I said, the command leaving no room for argument, my voice thick with lust. Her flushed cheeks and glazed eyes met mine, and without hesitation, she obeyed, rolling onto her stomach carefully since she was pregnant. "Haaan~" I watched her perfect ass rise into the air, her hips arching invitingly as she pressed her knees into the mattress, presenting herself to me like a goddess awaiting worship¡ªor conquest. I took a moment to savor the view, my hands gliding over her trembling thighs and the curve of her ass, red and glowing from our earlier passion. Her anal hole, stretched and glistening, clenched slightly as if reluctant to let go of what it had just taken, while her soaked pussy practically begged for attention, her juices dripping down her inner thighs. "You''re really perfect, " I murmured, my hands spreading her cheeks apart, revealing everything she had to offer. She shivered at the cool air brushing over her sensitive skin, her hips wiggling slightly as if begging for me to hurry. "Haaan??~~ yesss," she whimpered, her voice hoarse with desire and need. I lined myself up again with her tight hole, sliding the tip of my cock through her wetness, teasing her as her moans grew louder and more desperate. My hands found their way to her hips, gripping her firmly as I pushed forward, the head of my cock breaching her small entrance that was threatening to close back. "Haaaaaaan??!!" She cried out, her back arching as I filled her inch by inch, her walls clenching around me like a vice. "Damn that''s really tight!," I groaned, my fingers digging into her flesh as I bottomed out inside her. Her body trembled beneath me, her walls fluttering as she adjusted to the intrusion. I didn''t wait long. Pulling back, I slammed into her again, harder this time, forcing a guttural moan from her lips. "YES??! HAAAH??! FUCK ME HARDER, NATHAN!" Khillea screamed, her voice muffled as her face pressed into the mattress. I obliged, my hips snapping forward with relentless force, each thrust sending shockwaves through her body. Her ass bounced against me, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, a symphony of raw, unrestrained passion. I reached forward, grasping her swaying breasts in my hands. They were soft and full, her nipples stiff against my palms as I squeezed and kneaded them. Her milk began to drip again, wetting my hands and driving me into a frenzy. I pinched her nipples between my fingers, twisting them lightly, eliciting a sharp cry from her lips. "AAAHHH??! YES! PLAY WITH MY TITS! MAKE ME YOURS!" she cried, her voice breaking as her body bucked against mine. Her anal hole clenched tighter around me and I knew she was close. I pulled back, slamming into her with brutal force, my pace quickening as I felt her body tense. My hands squeezed her breasts harder, milking her, as my dick pounded into her with unrelenting rhythm. "FUCK! I''M... I''M GONNA...!" Khillea screamed, her voice rising to a crescendo. Her body convulsed beneath me as her orgasm tore through her, her anal clenching and releasing in waves. SQUIRT! SPLASH! A sudden gush of liquid spilled from her untouched pussy, drenching my thighs and the sheets beneath us. Looks like her pussy was asking to be fucked as well unfortunately I couldn''t so I will spoil even more her ass. PAH! PAH! PAH! I couldn''t tell her the full truth¡ªnot that I was with the Trojans, nor that my time in Troy was fleeting. After the war, I had plans to leave, to disappear into the shadows of history. And Khillea... she had her own life to return to, her own country. "What about it?" she pressed, her voice soft but insistent. "You could stay with me here." Her words made me frown slightly. "If you''re worried about Menelaus or the Spartans'' reaction, don''t be. I''ll make sure nothing happens to you." She paused. "Better yet, you could just join the Myrmidons." Her suggestion startled me. The conviction in her voice hinted at a deeper connection to the Myrmidons, one I hadn''t considered before. My mind raced, piecing together fragments of information. "You''re Achilles''s sister, aren''t you?" I asked, the realization dawning on me. The question hung heavily in the air. For a long moment, Khillea said nothing. Her expression shifted, the playful veneer giving way to something more serious, almost vulnerable. She averted her gaze, turning away from me. What was that reaction? "You don''t want to stay because of that woman, don''t you? Aisha, was it?" Khillea''s sudden question broke the lingering silence. Her tone was casual, but the sharpness in her eyes betrayed the undercurrent of something deeper¡ªcuriosity, perhaps, or maybe even jealousy. Her words took me by surprise. How did she know about Aisha? I frowned slightly, the gears in my mind turning. There were only two possibilities. Either she had seen us together during one of those intimate moments or someone had told her about it. Both scenarios seemed equally plausible, but the thought of Aisha being dragged into this unsettled me. Fortunately, it didn''t seem like Khillea harbored any ill will toward her. "Yes," I admitted, my voice steady despite the storm of thoughts swirling in my head. "I love her." The words felt raw, but they were true. Aisha held a special place in my heart, one I couldn''t deny, not even to Khillea. "Good for you," Khillea replied, though her expression faltered. Her voice carried an edge of bitterness, and for a moment, her usual confident demeanor cracked. What could I say to her? What should I say? Her emotions were written plainly on her face¡ªdisappointment, perhaps tinged with longing. As I looked at her, sprawled in all her post-coital beauty, I couldn''t ignore the pull she had on me. Her fiery spirit, her strength, her vulnerability¡ªit was all intoxicating. I wanted her. That much was undeniable. And so, instead of overthinking it, I acted on impulse. "How about you come with me?" I asked, my voice quiet but firm. The question hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I didn''t know what answer I expected, or if I even expected one at all. But as Khillea''s eyes met mine, her expression softened, and I could see the flicker of surprise¡ªand perhaps something more¡ªin her gaze. Chapter 260 Speaking with Khillea "How about you come with me?" I asked, my voice quiet but firm. The question hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I didn''t know what answer I expected, or if I even expected one at all. But as Khillea''s eyes met mine, her expression softened, and I could see the flicker of surprise¡ªand perhaps something more¡ªin her gaze. But then, as if a shadow passed over her thoughts, her gaze turned reluctant, the softness replaced by something guarded. "After the war, you can just come with me," I said, trying to bridge the silence that had grown between us. She didn''t respond immediately. Instead, she stared past me, her lips pressed tightly together, as if weighing words she wasn''t yet ready to share. I tilted my head back, frustration creeping into my voice. "I feel like you''re hiding something from me, Khillea. Something important, something I should know." Her eyes snapped back to mine, her brows furrowing. "And I know you''re hiding things from me too, Nathan," she shot back, her tone defensive but not unkind. "Then maybe it won''t work between us," I said bluntly. "With so many secrets between us, don''t you think it''s doomed from the start?" "I''m not asking it to work," she countered, her voice quieter now, almost wistful. "I just asked you to stay with me... until the end. Until the war ends." There it was again¡ªthe cryptic way she spoke, as though her words carried layers I couldn''t unravel. "What are you talking about, Khillea?" I asked, my frustration slipping into my tone. "Can''t you just speak plainly?" But I already knew my answer, even if her words left me confused. "I''m sorry, but I can''t," I said firmly. My place was in Troy, not here among the Greeks. The very thought of staying in these camps, surrounded by their savagery, made my stomach churn. Achilles'' tent was likely the only sanctuary in this chaotic cesspool, but even that wasn''t enough to convince me. Khillea turned her gaze away from me after saying that. Trying to ease the tension, I attempted a joke. "I don''t want to anger Achilles. He''s probably sharpening his spear now that I''ve impregnated his sister." A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it didn''t quite reach her eyes. "You don''t even know him," she replied, her voice softer now. "Well, I know he''s odd enough to leave his sister and Briseis for me to fuck in his absence," I said with mock incredulity. The moment Briseis''s name left my lips, Khillea''s expression darkened. A shadow fell over her features, and her body seemed to tense. Of course, I''d heard the rumors¡ªwhat Agamemnon had done. That filthy, arrogant piece of shit. Briseis had always struck me as a kind woman, her beauty matched by a quiet dignity. She didn''t deserve what had happened to her, especially at the hands of someone like Agamemnon. A fleeting memory of her surfaced in my mind¡ªher grace, her gentle and shy demeanor. If I''d known what would befall her, I might have taken her with me when I left along Astynome. The weight of those regrets sat heavily on me, but I pushed them aside. There was no changing the past, no undoing what had already been done. Wait¡ªmaybe it wasn''t too late. The weight of my words hung between us. I didn''t need to elaborate. Soon, I''d have to face the Divine Knights, and even worse¡ªsome gods. My life was chaos, a storm brewing on all fronts. "My life isn''t easy either," Khillea said, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of frustration. "If I ever thought I could be a good mother, I''d have already had children by now. My mother is better at this than I''ll ever be." "Yet you still chose to have a baby in the end," I pointed out, curiosity edging into my tone. "Why the change of heart?" Khillea paused, her expression softening as she looked down at her belly. "Because I wanted to leave something in this world..." Her voice trailed off, and I could tell there was more she wasn''t saying. "Then you should leave her to your mother," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. A thought struck me. "You have the same mother as Achilles? Then she''s a goddess, right?" I already suspected as much¡ªit had to be Thetis. But something about Khillea''s connection to Achilles had always felt... unusual. Khillea nodded, smirking slightly. "Yes, a goddess." Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "By the way, she wants to see you. Patroclus went to bring her." "What?" I shot to my feet, alarm coursing through me. This was bad. Really bad. "Thetis wants to see me? Why?" I demanded, though I already feared the answer. She was a goddess. Face-to-face, my usual tricks and disguises wouldn''t hold up. The gods in the heavens might not notice me from afar, but up close? She''d see right through me. And if she was truly Thetis¡ªAchilles'' mother¡ªthen she was aligned with the Greeks. If she discovered I was working with Troy, I was as good as dead. "Why are you scared?" Khillea laughed, her voice lilting with amusement as she walked toward the bath. She slipped into the water, sighing in pleasure. "I have to leave," I said quickly, pulling my pants back on, urgency overriding everything else. "Come join me," she teased, her lips curving into a sensual smile. This woman... I''d just taken her anal virginity, and she was still trying to seduce me? "Spartans will get suspicious if I''m late," I replied, seizing on the excuse. Patroclus had mentioned the tension between Achilles and the other Greek armies, and it was a convenient out. "It''ll only take a minute," Khillea insisted, leaning back in the bath. "She just wants to know how I got pregnant when I was told I could never conceive." Her words made me freeze. She couldn''t get pregnant? And yet, somehow, she had... with me? This was worse than I thought. If Thetis wanted to meet me because of that, there was no way she wouldn''t notice something strange about me. Stay updated through empire "I''m sorry. I''ll come back later," I said hastily, pulling on my shirt. "Where are you going?" I turned, my chest tightening at the sight of a woman standing in the doorway. She looked like Khillea but older¡ªmore regal, with an aura that seemed to radiate divinity. My breath caught. This had to be Thetis. Chapter 261 Speaking with Thetis (1) "Where are you going?" I turned, my chest tightening at the sight of a woman standing in the doorway. She looked like Khillea but older¡ªmore regal, with an aura that seemed to radiate divinity. My breath caught. This had to be Thetis. I stayed silent for a long moment, weighing her words, before finally responding. "Back to where I belong," I said quietly, my voice even but carrying an undertone of resignation. Thetis didn''t seem deterred by my tone. She tilted her head slightly, her expression an intriguing mixture of playfulness and earnestness. "You can leave after. I just want to speak to you," she said, her gaze fixed on me. Before I could say anything more, Khillea spoke up. Her lips curled into a teasing smile, and her voice took on a sultry edge. "Oh, mother, look¡ªit''s him," she said, gesturing toward me dramatically. "The man who so generously impregnated me with his seed." Her boldness made my breath hitch. She continued, her cheeks glowing as her fingers trailed down toward the water''s edge, hinting at her intentions. "He''s excellent at sex. I still feel so hot down there," she murmured, her words dripping with unabashed sensuality as she reached toward her pussy. Thetis, who had been silent thus far, allowed her sharp, discerning eyes to survey the scene. Her gaze moved deliberately¡ªfirst to the wet bed, then to the unmistakable scent of raw passion that still lingered faintly in the air. She didn''t need to ask what had occurred; the evidence was as plain as day. "Having sex with a man¡ªagain, the same man no less." Thetis''s voice was calm but carried a subtle undertone of intrigue as she stepped further into the room. "It seems you hold him in rather high regard, Khillea." I considered leaving at that moment, but the idea quickly proved futile. Escaping wouldn''t solve anything and might only complicate matters further. Khillea, undeterred, leaned back against the edge of the bath with a dreamy expression. "Yes, I suppose I was quite lucky that he was my first," she said, her words tinged with fondness. Thetis''s expression softened for a moment as she knelt gracefully by the water''s edge. Reaching out, she placed her hand gently on Khillea''s belly. Her touch was tender. "And how is my grandchild?" she asked, her smile serene and genuine. Khillea''s lips curled into a playful smirk, and her gaze flickered toward me. "Good. Even better now, after spending more time with her father," she added, her tone laced with mischief. Thetis ignored the jab and continued her line of questioning. "When do you expect her to be born?" I took a measured breath, weighing my response carefully. If all she wanted was information, there was no harm in giving her some of the truth¡ªon my terms. "What do you intend to do with this information?" I asked, my tone calm but probing. "Are you afraid of something?" Her expression hardened, and the air seemed to grow colder. "I want to know if it was mere coincidence that you crossed paths with Khillea," she said, her words deliberate. "And if it was a coincidence that you... engaged with her in such an intimate way." I frowned, her accusation catching me off guard. "What exactly are you implying?" "Did Hera send you?" she asked bluntly, her gaze unrelenting, searching for even the faintest trace of deceit. "What?" I blurted, genuinely taken aback by the question. Her eyes narrowed further, studying me as though my reaction alone could betray the truth. "You don''t seem to be acting," she murmured, more to herself than to me. "Why would Hera send me?" I asked, irritation seeping into my voice. Thetis''s gaze remained icy, her demeanor unshaken. "It would be entirely within Hera''s nature to send one of her hounds to seduce and influence my daughter¡ªespecially given the current situation. If that were the case, I would even admit that you performed admirably." Her voice carried a begrudging note of respect, though it was overshadowed by her mistrust. "Hera didn''t send me," I said firmly, locking eyes with her to emphasize my sincerity. "Your daughter came to me of her own accord. Achilles, as she put it, gave his blessing¡ªor at the very least didn''t object when she approached me. And let''s not forget, it was Patroclus who first reached out to me. I simply followed where they led." Thetis''s sharp gaze softened ever so slightly as she processed my words. Her expression was inscrutable, and the silence that followed was deafening. She studied me as though weighing the veracity of every syllable, searching for cracks in my composure but did not in the end. "I may have been driven by desire when I first had sex with your daughter," I admitted, keeping my tone sincere, "but that''s not the whole truth anymore. I''ve come to love and care for her deeply. I wouldn''t say this lightly, and I certainly wouldn''t lie about it." I paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and for the record, I don''t hold Hera in very high esteem." Thetis chuckled softly, the sound rich with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "You''re bold, I''ll give you that," she said, her lips curving into a faint smile. "To speak so dismissively of Hera¡ªthe Queen Goddess of Olympus¡ªtakes a kind of courage most mortals lack. Perhaps my daughter chose more wisely than I gave her credit for." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied me, her expression contemplative. "You may not be as physically strong as her, but mentally..." She trailed off, her gaze growing distant for a moment. "Yes, you seem to have weathered trials far beyond what most could endure." Her words caught me off guard, and I raised an eyebrow, my confusion evident. "I''m not as strong as her?" I repeated, unsure if I''d heard her correctly. Thetis''s face shifted subtly, her amusement giving way to mild confusion. "She didn''t tell you?" "Tell me what?" I asked, my unease growing. Her reaction surprised me. For the first time, Thetis looked genuinely taken aback. Her usually composed demeanor faltered as she seemed to grapple with an internal conflict. After a long pause, during which she seemed to weigh the consequences of her next words, she finally spoke. "Khillea," she began, her voice quieter but no less firm, "is Achilles." Chapter 262 Speaking with Thetis (2) Thetis''s face shifted subtly, her amusement giving way to mild confusion. "She didn''t tell you?" "Tell me what?" I asked, my unease growing. Continue your journey with empire Her reaction surprised me. For the first time, Thetis looked genuinely taken aback. Her usually composed demeanor faltered as she seemed to grapple with an internal conflict. After a long pause, during which she seemed to weigh the consequences of her next words, she finally spoke. "Khillea," she began, her voice quieter but no less firm, "is Achilles." The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, their impact immediate and undeniable. My breath caught, and a sudden silence enveloped the space as her revelation sank in. Achilles. I stared at her, my mind reeling. Every interaction I''d had with Khillea, every word, every glance¡ªit all rushed back to me, tinged now with a deeper, more profound significance. Thetis watched me closely, gauging my reaction. Her gaze was sharp, yet there was an undercurrent of something else¡ªconcern, perhaps? Or maybe it was expectation. "Achilles," I repeated softly, the name feeling foreign and familiar all at once as it rolled off my tongue. "Yes," Thetis said simply, her voice steady. "The one and only." "But... Achilles is a man?" I muttered, my voice trailing off in disbelief as my thoughts raced. Thetis, her serene expression betraying a hint of curiosity, tilted her head slightly and regarded me with her piercing gaze. "Did you meet Achilles up close?" she asked, her tone calm yet probing. "No, not up close," I admitted, the memories surfacing in fragmented flashes. "I saw Achilles from afar..." I paused, a wave of realization beginning to dawn on me. Each time I had glimpsed Achilles, the warrior had been clad head-to-toe in a full suit of armor, concealing their form entirely. At the time, I''d assumed the resemblance to Khillea was simply a sibling similarity. But now... "I don''t understand," I murmured, my brows furrowing as I grappled with the implications. "Achilles should be a man," I added, the myths I had learned on Earth echoing in my mind. Every tale, every depiction, had painted Achilles as the archetypal male hero¡ªstrong, brave, and unyielding. Until now, every character I had encountered seemed to align with those ancient stories. Why would Achilles be any different? "Should be?" Thetis repeated, her voice laced with confusion. Realizing I had spoken too freely, I quickly shook my head. "No, I''m just... lost," I replied, my words evasive, as I tried to reconcile the contradiction between myth and reality. "I just want you to stay with me... until the end. Until the war ends." It had all been for this, then. Every word, every glance, every touch¡ªit had all been spoken with the knowledge that she was preparing herself for death. I felt my chest tighten as anger, frustration, and a strange sorrow flooded me. "I won''t," I said, my voice firmer than I expected. I raised my gaze to Thetis, meeting her eyes. "I won''t let her die." Thetis blinked, surprised by the resolve in my tone. She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but then closed it as she studied me. A small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. "I don''t want her to die either," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you won''t be able to convince her. She doesn''t listen anymore. Not to me, not to anyone." "Then I''ll force her to listen," I replied, my voice cold and absolute. Thetis frowned, her serene composure cracking ever so slightly. "Force her?" she echoed, her tone skeptical and laced with concern. I didn''t respond immediately. Instead, I reached for the ring on my index finger, the one I had worn for so long to keep my true strength hidden. There was no point in concealing it from Thetis any longer. She cared about one thing above all else¡ªher daughter. And I would trust in that love now. With a sharp motion, I removed the ring. BADAAAAM! The air around us exploded with raw power, waves of energy rippling outward and shaking even the confines of Thetis''s dimensional space. The atmosphere grew heavy, almost suffocating, as my suppressed strength surged forth in a torrent of unchecked force. Thetis''s eyes widened in shock, her composure finally shattering as she stared at me. My skin had turned a shade of alabaster white, flawless and smooth, reminiscent of Khione''s own ethereal complexion. My hair, now a pure, shimmering snow white, lifted slightly in the energy surrounding me, as if caught in an unseen breeze. And my eyes¡ªone glowed with an icy blue, piercing and cold, embodying the essence of Khione herself. The other burned with a dark gold hue, a demonic slit cutting through its center like a predator''s gaze. I was utterly transformed, my strength magnified beyond anything I had shown before. To anyone else, I would have seemed like an entirely different being¡ªa force of nature, unrecognizable and terrifying. Chapter 263 Speaking with Thetis (3) I was utterly transformed, my strength magnified beyond anything I had shown before. To anyone else, I would have seemed like an entirely different being¡ªa force of nature, unrecognizable and terrifying. "You... are... who are you?" Thetis asked once again, her voice trembling with a mix of shock and curiosity as her wide, sea-green eyes bore into mine. I met her gaze steadily. "I will explain everything in due time. For now, leave your daughter''s fate to me. I promise you this¡ªI won''t let her die." Thetis hesitated, her concern etched deeply into her features. "But even with that strength of yours... how can you possibly hope to succeed?" She wasn''t wrong to doubt me. Achilles, or rather Khillea as she had come to be known in this war, was no ordinary warrior. She was a demigoddess, born under the divine blessings of Hera, Athena, and Zeus himself. As an infant, her mother had plunged her into the infernal waters of the Styx, rendering her body invulnerable to nearly all harm. Nearly. That single word was my glimmer of hope. Khillea had only one weakness, and though it was minuscule, it was all I needed. Still, it would take more than mere strategy to face her. I had to be at my peak¡ªstronger, sharper, unrelenting. I silently prayed to Apollo to grant me my wish and restore me to my best form, for it was only then that I would stand a chance against Khillea. "Trust me," I said again, my voice firm. "Leave her to me." Thetis studied me intently, her expression flickering between doubt and hope. And then, to my surprise, she laughed¡ªa melodic, heartfelt laugh that echoed through the air like the gentle lapping of waves on a serene shore. "My daughter..." she murmured, her voice warm with affection and pride. "She truly chose the best man possible. I am overjoyed to see her in the hands of someone like you." Her words carried an unexpected weight, and I felt an unfamiliar pang in my chest. Yet, her gaze sharpened, her voice turning inquisitive. "Fine. I will entrust her to you. But how do you intend to face her? Greeks are forbidden from fighting each other. Surely you know this?" A small smile tugged at my lips as I straightened. "I am not Greek," I replied with calm assurance. "I fight under the name of Heiron, a mercenary for Troy." Thetis''s expression changed, her mind piecing together the truth of my words. "Heiron..." she murmured, recognition dawning. "The man who killed Ajax." I nodded solemnly. Her realization carried no judgment, only understanding. "If your daughter returns to the battlefield, I will be there to meet her. I hope, however," I paused, locking eyes with her, "you are not like Hera or Athena. You don''t strike me as someone obsessed with ensuring the Greeks'' victory at all costs." I asked just in case she wanted the greeks victory and at the same time her daughter''s safety, that would be impossible for me to accept since I was determined to give victory to Trojans. Enjoy new chapters from empire Thetis laughed again, this time with a touch of relief. "You are right. I care little for the Greeks or their victory. My only wish is for my daughter to survive this cursed war. If the Trojans emerge victorious, so be it. All that matters to me is her safety." "Then we are aligned," I said, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "But before I confront Khillea, I must first ensure that no one interferes when the time comes." Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" "Odysseus and Agamemnon," I stated bluntly. "I will kill them." It was rare to encounter a goddess who wasn''t at least partially selfish, especially so early in a meeting. Most divine beings had an air of entitlement that was hard to ignore, but Thetis was different. Her sincerity and calm demeanor set her apart, and I silently commended myself for trusting her. She glanced at me, her expression thoughtful. "About my daughter being... a woman," she began cautiously. I raised a hand to stop her before she could finish. "You don''t need to explain," I replied evenly. "At the same time, I''d appreciate it if you could keep my identity a secret from the Greek gods." Thetis''s lips curved into a faint smile, her oceanic eyes softening. "You have my word. I have no intention of returning to Olympus in its current fractured state. Besides, I am not particularly close to Hera or Athena." "That''s good to hear," I said with a nod, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly. The last thing I needed was for word of my presence to spread among the gods. Thetis returned my nod, a flicker of understanding passing between us. With that, she raised her hand, and the world around us shifted. In a moment, we were back at the tent¡ªthough I suppose it was more accurate now to call it Khillea''s tent. Inside, Khillea lounged in her bath, her radiant red hair cascading over her shoulders as she laughed at something Patroclus said. Her voice, light and carefree, echoed through the space, a stark contrast to the heavy weight of fate that hung over her. No matter what, I wouldn''t let her die. Her laughter faded as she noticed our return. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she turned toward us. "Oh, you''re back! Mother, I hope you didn''t bully Nathan." Thetis chuckled softly. "Not at all. We had a pleasant conversation, and I must say, Khillea, you''ve found yourself quite the gem of a man." Khillea''s grin widened, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Right? If you want, Mother, I can let you borrow him for a night. You''ll see for yourself how incredible he is in bed." My face heated, and I struggled to find an appropriate response. Was this... normal for Achaeans? If so, I was beginning to understand why their culture had its fair share of peculiarities. Thetis sighed, shaking her head as if she''d long grown accustomed to her daughter''s antics. "What am I going to do with you?" she muttered, though there was no real anger in her tone. "I have no such plans... at least not for now." Not for now? The words sent a jolt of something through me, but I quickly pushed it aside. Sensing the conversation heading down a precarious path, I cleared my throat. "I should be leaving now," I said, hoping to extract myself before things spiraled further out of control. Khillea''s grin faltered, and for a brief moment, a hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. "Already? So, you''re choosing to leave, then," she said softly, her tone laced with a touch of disappointment. I met her gaze, offering a faint smile. "We''ll see each other again," I assured her. But not here¡ªnot in the safety of this tent. Our next meeting would be on the battlefield likely. Without another word, I stepped outside. The cool evening air greeted me, carrying the faint scent of salt from the distant sea. Time to steal Briseis. Chapter 264 Saving Briseis it was time to steal briseis, and i knew this task demanded utmost precision. even with the borrowed power of thetis coursing through me, failure wasn''t an option. the stakes were too high, and the consequences too dire if i made a mistake. so, i resorted to what i had become adept at: watching and waiting. patience was my weapon, and reconnaissance my shield. i had already spent time studying the greek camp, mapping out its layout and routines. agamemnon''s tent was particularly well-guarded, a testament to his lingering paranoia after my previous uninvited visit. the increased security was almost laughable¡ªclearly, i had left a lasting impression. even so, with thetis''s power, slipping into agamemnon''s tent was trivial. cloaked in invisibility, i moved like a shadow, silent and unseen. the problem wasn''t entering the tent; it was escaping with briseis. the invisibility, while formidable, extended only to me. i couldn''t extend it to her, and carrying her out in plain sight was an invitation to disaster. truthfully, i didn''t have to go to such lengths. stealing briseis was not essential to my plans, but it was necessary to me. she was khillea''s only true friend, a tether to her humanity. if i wanted to pull khillea back from the brink of her insanity¡ªher dangerous obsession with glory and immortal renown¡ªbriseis might be the key. to save her, i needed every piece of leverage i could gather. the first step was to clear the guards, to lure them away without raising alarms. a diversion was necessary, something grand and terrifying enough to command their full attention. fortunately, i had just the thing in mind. closing my eyes, i focused my thoughts on him. the connection was instantaneous, as if he had been waiting for my call. a knowing smile spread across my lips. this would work. a low rumble echoed across the night sky, so deep and resonant it seemed to shake the heavens themselves. the sound grew louder, more feral, like a primal roar that resonated in the bones of every man in the camp. the greeks stirred uneasily, their heads snapping upward in search of the source. "is that zeus?" one of the soldiers cried, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear. another chimed in, desperate to rationalize the phenomenon. "he must be angry at us!" "no," a third shouted, his tone more confident, though equally unconvincing. "he''s probably urging us to victory!" they gazed skyward, their minds scrambling to interpret the noise as a divine message. but it was no message from zeus. no god of olympus had orchestrated this. the truth was far more terrifying¡ªand far more unexpected. the roar intensified, shaking the very earth beneath their feet. a golden dot appeared in the night sky, faint at first but growing rapidly as it approached. the air grew thick with tension as the soldiers watched, their eyes widening in collective horror. "what... what is that?" one stammered, his voice barely a whisper. the dot expanded, resolving into a massive, glimmering form. scales that gleamed like molten gold reflected the firelight of the camp, and massive wings beat against the wind with a force that sent ripples across the tents. "a dragon!" someone screamed, his voice breaking into a panic. the cry spread like wildfire, and chaos erupted in the camp. men stumbled over each other, tripping and falling as they tried to scramble to safety. one soldier fell flat on his backside, pointing skyward with a trembling hand. others followed suit, their courage evaporating in the face of the monstrous creature descending upon them. the dragon''s roar reached a deafening crescendo, drowning out the cries of terror. i couldn''t help but smirk at the chaos unfolding below. the greeks believed themselves invincible, chosen by the gods to carve their glory into history. and yet, here they were, reduced to quivering mortals by the appearance of a single dragon. i had intended to keep him a secret, a card to be played only when absolutely necessary. but there was no harm in letting the greeks believe they were at the mercy of zeus or some other divine force. fear was a powerful weapon, and tonight, i wielded it to perfection. "drakkias, burn as many greeks as you like, but prioritize their ships. target the ones in the sea and hold them off for just a few minutes," i sent the telepathic command to my dragon. a resonant roar ripped through the heavens, shaking the earth below as drakkias acknowledged my order. the greeks shuddered in collective terror, their courage faltering beneath the dragon''s might. drakkias spread his massive golden wings and dove, unleashing a torrent of flames that turned the camp into a fiery inferno. tents, supplies, and men disintegrated in the blazing onslaught. careful to remain distant from my position, the dragon made its presence impossible to ignore. "kill it!" "call for odysseus!" i nodded. "yes. i''m here to take you away¡ªfrom here, from him, back to troy." her lips parted, disbelief mingling with the faint flicker of hope in her eyes. "is... is that true?" she asked, her voice breaking. "yes," i affirmed, my tone firm and steady. i reached into my satchel and pulled out a hooded cloak. "here, wear this over your head. we don''t have much time." her gaze darted nervously toward the tent''s entrance. "no... no, agamemnon... he will¡ª" "he won''t do anything," i interrupted, my voice resolute. i crouched before her, meeting her gaze with all the seriousness i could muster. "i promise you. trust me." briseis hesitated, her fingers clutching the edges of her torn dress. then, with trembling hands, she reached out and accepted the cloak. she attempted to stand, but the chains binding her wrists and ankles rattled, holding her in place. without hesitation, i swung my sword again, shattering her restraints. "there. you''re free now," i said. but when she tried to rise, her legs gave out beneath her. she crumpled back to her knees, her body quivering with exhaustion and fear. "hold onto me," i said gently. sliding my arm beneath her, i lifted her onto my shoulder with care, making sure not to aggravate her bruises or wounds. briseis let out a soft gasp but didn''t resist. her fingers clutched the fabric of my armor as i stepped toward the rear of the tent. with thetis''s magic reactivated, i vanished from sight once more, slipping past the chaos outside. the roars of drakkias and the panicked cries of the greeks filled the night, covering our escape as i carried briseis away. "drakkias," i called through our telepathic link. above the greek camps, the dragon roared in acknowledgment, its massive wings beating as it ascended from the fiery remains of the greek fleet. smoke and flames curled into the night sky, mingling with the terrified screams of soldiers. drakkias swooped low, scattering the panicked greeks below. their once-fearsome cries turned to frantic shouts as they scrambled to avoid the shadow of the great beast. as drakkias descended toward me, i leapt effortlessly onto his back, carefully placing briseis before me. her eyes widened in utter disbelief, her entire body stiffening as she beheld the creature beneath her. it was dragon and worse it was obeying me after all. with a subtle command, drakkias beat his wings and ascended into the night sky, carrying us away from the chaos below. from the ground, a furious voice bellowed. "who are you?!" i glanced down to see agamemnon standing amidst his commanders¡ªodysseus, menelaus, heracles, and chiron. their gazes burned into me, a mix of fury and disbelief as they realized who was slipping away from their grasp. suddenly, a gust of wind swept past, dislodging the hood over briseis''s head. her face, pale and haunted, was now fully visible to the men below. agamemnon''s face contorted into an expression of shock, then rage. his jaw tightened, and his fists clenched as if he could crush the air itself. hovering above them atop drakkias, i looked down coldly. our gazes locked for a fleeting moment¡ªhis fury burning like an inferno, mine like ice. "i will kill youuuuuuu!" Chapter 265 Pariss angry! "it''s a relief to see you alive, queen briseis." the journey to troy after rescuing briseis had been swift, thanks to drakkias. riding a dragon''s back ensured speed, but caution dictated our approach. i asked drakkias to land a safe distance from the city, preferring not to reveal his existence to the trojans just yet. involving him in their war was not a risk i was willing to take. from there, we completed the remainder of the journey on foot. though slower than flying, it was still a far quicker arrival than most could expect. as soon as we reached the gates and i revealed my identity, the trojan guards wasted no time opening the gates. my name carried weight, and briseis, as a high-ranking noble and queen of lyrnessus, commanded immediate respect. without delay, i requested an audience with king priam. briseis'' presence before the trojan court was vital, as she remained a symbol of strength and resilience for her people. now, we stood in the grand hall of troy, faced with the royal family. king priam, queen hecuba, and their court regarded us with expressions of relief and subdued joy. briseis'' survival was a miracle in itself, given the horrors she had endured. they had feared a far worse fate for her, especially given agamemnon''s reputation. "it''s a relief to see you alive, queen briseis," priam said, his voice warm but tempered with sadness. briseis knelt respectfully before him. "thank you, my king," she replied softly. despite her grace, her pallor betrayed her. the past weeks had taken a visible toll¡ªdays under khillea''s protection followed by the torment of being in agamemnon''s possession. the ordeal weighed heavily on her, yet she managed to hold herself with dignity. priam, hecuba, and the court, fully aware of the unspeakable experiences she had likely endured, tactfully avoided addressing them. "i am deeply sorry for mynes," priam said after a pause, his tone heavy with regret. "he was a good man, one i have known since his boyhood." briseis'' expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of sadness crossing her features. "i knew him only briefly, but he was indeed a noble man who sacrificed his life for his people," she said, her voice steady despite the sorrow it carried. priam nodded solemnly, then turned his attention to me. his expression shifted to a mix of gratitude and exasperation. "i suppose we have to thank you once again, heiron," he said, sighing with a wry smile. the sentiment wasn''t lost on me. i had done much for the trojans, yet rarely asked for anything in return. "not truly, your majesty," i replied, keeping my tone humble. "i was merely seeking information about our enemies when i came across the queen. rescuing her was a fortunate result of that pursuit." it wasn''t the whole truth. my journey had initially been for entirely different reasons, a personal matter involving aisha. what followed¡ªa tangled encounter with khillea that i had sex with then meeting thetis, and then finally the unexpected rescue of briseis¡ªwhich had been far from planned. queen hecuba sighed, her tone laced with exasperation at my humility. "you are being far too modest again, heiron. you''ve done so much for us already, far more than we could ever have expected¡ªeven though we hired others to fight in our name." "i agree," hector added with a grin. "he might as well be as trojan as any of us." "trojan? him? don''t exaggerate, brother," paris interjected, his mocking tone cutting through the atmosphere like a blade. his voice carried an unmistakable bitterness, as if the very thought of my being praised in his presence was an affront. the mood in the room shifted immediately. the tension was palpable, thick as smoke in the air. i, however, felt no need to dignify paris'' remark with a response. his hostility toward me was nothing new. over the past months, he had made his disdain known on multiple occasions¡ªchildish outbursts born, i suspected, of jealousy. perhaps my contributions to troy''s defense highlighted his inadequacies. whatever the reason, i found his petty barbs more amusing than troubling. but the others did not share my indifference. "i disagree," helen said suddenly, her voice calm yet firm as she stepped into the fray. "he has done enough to be considered a trojan." her defense caught me off guard, though i appreciated her words. paris, on the other hand, looked utterly stunned. he turned to helen, his face a mask of betrayal, as if silently asking her, why him? why are you defending this mercenary instead of me, your husband? the rest of the court exchanged glances, clearly surprised by helen''s intervention. paris whirled to face her, his eyes burning with contempt. "ha! my dear cursed sister! how will you doom troy this time with your lies? you brought this war to our gates with your prophecies, and now you dare speak against me?!" kassandra froze, his words hitting her like a physical blow. she clutched her hands to her chest, her face pale. "you!" hector''s voice roared through the hall as he raised his fist, his anger finally boiling over. "enough." priam''s voice was calm but commanding as he stood, silencing the room. paris turned to his father, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "are you going to defend him too, father?!" "i will, yes," priam replied without hesitation. "why not me?!" paris shouted, his voice breaking. "why defend him over your own son?!" priam''s gaze was cold, his voice quiet but cutting. "because you have not accomplished even a fraction of what he has done for troy." he gestured toward me. "he has brought more good to this city than you, the prince of it." paris staggered back as if struck, his face pale with shock. for a moment, he stood frozen, his clenched fists trembling at his sides. without another word, he turned and stormed out of the hall, the sound of his footsteps echoing long after he had gone. the silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with unspoken judgment. priam sighed deeply and sat back down, his shoulders slumping slightly. "i apologize on behalf of my son, heiron," priam said, addressing me directly. his tone was solemn, his expression weighted with regret. "his actions do not reflect the gratitude we feel for all that you''ve done." i inclined my head slightly, remaining silent. words were unnecessary¡ªparis'' outburst had spoken volumes about his character, and priam''s apology more than compensated for it. "heiron," priam continued, his voice softening as a small smile spread across his face, "we are deeply grateful for your efforts in weakening the greeks. perhaps your motivations are personal, but either way, we don''t want you to endanger yourself too much. understood?" his words caught me off guard. the smile he offered was warm, genuine¡ªa stark contrast to anything i had ever received from my own father. for a moment, i was at a loss for how to respond. "thank you, your majesty," i managed after a pause. "but don''t worry¡ªthis was the last time." priam nodded, his smile widening in relief. "good, then. tell me, how are the greeks faring after your latest exploits?" at this, the gathered nobles and warriors leaned forward slightly, their curiosity evident. "they are still holding together," i began, my voice steady. "but after i managed to steal briseis from agamemnon and burn a significant number of their ships, i''d wager they''re quite furious." priam burst into hearty laughter, his mirth filling the room. "as expected of heiron!" he exclaimed, his eyes glinting with approval. hector chuckled as well, clapping me on the shoulder. "you''ve done more than most could even dream of accomplishing." the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by an air of camaraderie and respect. after a few more exchanges of words, i excused myself. the weariness of the day was beginning to weigh on me, and i was eager to rest. Chapter 266 Pariss challenge! a week had passed since the golden dragon descended from the heavens, leaving behind a trail of carnage and despair. the beast''s fury had consumed a dozen of agamemnon''s prized ships, their charred remains now littering the once-proud waters of his fleet. the incident was etched into memory as the day agamemnon''s wrath reached its zenith, his seething rage becoming the stuff of whispers among the greeks. the war between the greeks and trojans, already a blazing inferno, now raged with an even more furious intensity. agamemnon''s fury was unmatched, a terrifying storm of rage that none dared to weather. his brother menelaus, usually bold enough to counsel him, kept his distance, his lips pressed into a thin line as he observed the king''s volcanic temper from the shadows. only the aged and wise nestor, with his measured words, and the cunning odysseus, ever the master of persuasion, could manage to approach him. even so, their words fell on ears deafened by fury. everyone else ensured they remained well out of the king''s reach, lest they bear the brunt of his ire. the disappearance of briseis was the breaking point, the final insult that shattered what little restraint agamemnon had left. she was the jewel he had coveted, the woman he had intended to humiliate and ravage in front of achilles to savor the warrior''s anguish. her presence had been a source of his twisted fantasies, a symbol of his dominance. and now, she was gone, whisked away before his very eyes. the image of her retreating form, carried off by a dragon, burned itself into his mind, a fresh wound to his pride. the sight was a humiliation too public to ignore. first astynome, now briseis¡ªboth stolen from him as if he were nothing more than a hapless child robbed of his toys. his ships, once symbols of his unassailable might, were reduced to smoldering wreckage. the greeks whispered among themselves, some openly pitying their king despite his power. this, they said, was no longer warfare; it was mockery. agamemnon, the king of kings, was being bullied. discover hidden stories at empire yet pity only fueled his resolve. agamemnon''s fury hardened into an unrelenting determination, a fire that consumed reason and stoked vengeance. he channeled his wrath into rallying his men, transforming his humiliation into a rallying cry for destruction. the trojans would pay with their blood. he would not rest until the mighty walls of troy lay in ruins, its people slaughtered or enslaved, and its name reduced to ash in the annals of history. he was convinced¡ªutterly convinced¡ªthat the man responsible for his humiliation was among the trojans. his rage, blinding and all-encompassing, demanded retribution. yet even in his fury, agamemnon remained a seasoned ruler. thetis''s warnings about his calculated restraint were not unfounded. his wrath did not dull his instincts. he knew that his death would spell disaster for the greek forces. despite his wild proclamations and battle cries, he maintained a strategic distance from the front lines, barking orders with a ferocity that left no room for dissent. nathan, watching from the shadows, saw precisely what he had anticipated. the king''s anger, while potent, was not enough. as thetis had predicted, agamemnon''s fury, though a powerful weapon, lacked the recklessness needed to topple him entirely. the man was a beast driven by rage, but he was still a king¡ªa ruler who understood that survival was the key to victory. for now, nathan waited, the gears of his plan turning silently. agamemnon''s blind fury might not have been enough yet, but it was a start. the king''s wrath was a fire, and all nathan needed was to find the right moment to fan it into an inferno. "how are you holding up, brother?!" castor called out, his voice ringing over the chaos of battle, a wicked grin plastered across his face. he swung his sword in a deadly arc, cutting down another greek soldier as though it were a casual chore. "i''m on my hundredth kill already!" he laughed, his tone tinged with savage delight. "you''re a bit late, brother," pollux replied coolly, his blade dripping with fresh blood as he dispatched yet another foe. "i''m on my hundred and fifteenth." his voice carried a hint of impatience, as though his brother''s pace were an annoyance rather than a source of camaraderie. "come on, pollux! live a little! enjoy it to the fullest!" castor bellowed, reveling in the carnage. despite their banter, the two brothers were not to be taken lightly. their strength was nothing short of terrifying, surpassing even that of sarpedon and aeneas, two of troy''s mightiest warriors. but among the twins, pollux was undeniably the stronger¡ªa gift of his divine lineage as the son of zeus himself. "look! it''s castor and pollux!" one of the greek soldiers shouted, his voice trembling with disbelief. "traitors!" another bellowed, his words a mix of outrage and betrayal. "how dare they side with the trojans against their own people!" the greeks were incensed. castor and pollux, renowned for their valor and heritage, had chosen to fight for troy. to the greeks, this was a betrayal of the highest order, a stain upon their honor. "you can scream all you like, you filthy rats!" castor jeered, his laughter ringing out even as he plunged his blade into another soldier. "we will never ally ourselves with that bastard king who murdered our niece, discarded our sister, and now seeks to kill the other!" his voice was as sharp as his sword, cutting through the greeks'' morale as effectively as their bodies. "you see her, don''t you?" menelaus sneered, his voice rising. "she''s watching, paris! she''ll see me cut you down and know what happens to traitors and thieves!" paris ignored the mockery and venom, his gaze unflinching. "i propose a one-on-one fight," he stated, his voice calm yet unyielding. "what?" menelaus growled, caught off guard. "if i win," paris continued, his tone unwavering, "you will abandon helen to me and leave troy with all your greeks." menelaus''s laughter erupted once again, harsh and guttural. "and if i win?" he demanded, mockery lacing his words. "if you win," paris said, locking eyes with him, "you may take helen and my life. but in return, you will leave troy untouched. you will take your armies and never return." the proposal sent a ripple of shock through the trojan ranks. hector, standing not far from paris, stepped forward, his face contorted with fury. "paris! what are you saying?!" hector barked. "you dare to plan such things without consulting us? without even asking helen what she wants?!" paris turned to his elder brother, his gaze filled with disdain. "you all treat me as useless, a burden," he said bitterly. "now that i''m taking action to end this war, you want me to stop? no, hector. i will do this my way. i''ll defeat menelaus and prove my worth." "you can''t beat him," aeneas said gravely, his tone laced with frustration and concern. "menelaus is seasoned in battle, paris. this isn''t the time for bravado." "don''t speak to me like i''m a child!" paris snapped, his pride stinging at the reprimand. "i am the prince of troy! i''ll show you all my strength!" casting aside his bow, paris picked up a sword and shield from a fallen soldier. the weight of the weapons seemed unfamiliar in his hands, but his resolve was firm. he faced menelaus, his posture rigid with defiance. menelaus''s lips curled into a wide, wolfish grin. this was better than he had hoped. a fight against the man who had humiliated him, here on the battlefield, in front of troy''s walls. it was perfect. he would finally exact his vengeance, and there was no doubt in his mind that he would emerge victorious. he turned to his brother, agamemnon, seeking confirmation. agamemnon met his gaze, his expression cold and calculating. with a small nod, he gave his approval. but in agamemnon''s heart, there was no intention of honoring the terms paris had laid out. whether menelaus won or lost, troy would burn. its people would be slaughtered, and its riches plundered. the war was not about reclaiming helen anymore¡ªit was about domination, power, and revenge. menelaus stepped forward, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. "very well, paris. let''s see if you''re worth anything more than the words you spew." the battlefield grew silent as the warriors formed a rough circle, all eyes fixed on the two men who now stood as symbols of the war''s stakes. above, the figures on troy''s walls watched with bated breath, the tension so thick it seemed to halt time itself. this was no longer just a fight. it was a reckoning. Chapter 267 Paris vs Menelaus! menelaus stepped forward, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. "very well, paris. let''s see if you''re worth anything more than the words you spew." the battlefield grew silent as the warriors formed a rough circle, all eyes fixed on the two men who now stood as symbols of the war''s stakes. above, the figures on troy''s walls watched with bated breath, the tension so thick it seemed to halt time itself. this was no longer just a fight. it was a reckoning. at the same time, two radiant figures descended from the heavens, their divine presence visible only to a select few. the air grew heavy with the weight of their power, the faint shimmer of their ethereal forms captivating all who could behold them. nathan, standing amidst the unfolding chaos, could see both deities with startling clarity. atalanta, however, could only perceive one¡ªartemis, her graceful form glowing softly with an otherworldly aura. nathan''s gaze shifted between artemis and athena, who each seemed to embody the fierce and unyielding will of their divine domains. athena descended with a fluid, almost effortless motion, her presence commanding and dignified. she landed beside menelaus, her hand resting gently yet purposefully on his shoulder. badam! a shockwave of mana erupted from menelaus''s body, the sheer force of athena''s blessing radiating outward like a storm unleashed. his figure surged with newfound strength, his eyes glowing faintly with an empowered determination. across the battlefield, artemis bestowed her favor upon paris, her delicate touch brimming with lethal intent. a similar surge of divine energy engulfed him, lifting his confidence to soaring heights. her intentions were clear¡ªshe wanted paris to triumph, to claim his prize. paris, gripping his sword with a renewed sense of purpose, grinned wildly. a rush of adrenaline coursed through him, making him feel invincible, unstoppable. he roared with unrestrained conviction, "i will kill you, menelaus! helen will be mine¡ªforever!" your next chapter awaits on empire with that declaration, paris lunged forward, his movements swift and fierce, his blade flashing in the light of the divine. menelaus, unshaken, scoffed at the challenge. he raised his lance with calculated precision, meeting paris''s blade in midair. badam! the collision of their weapons unleashed a thunderous explosion, sending gusts of wind tearing across the battlefield. dust and debris scattered as the two warriors slid back, their eyes locking in a deadly dance of strategy and resolve. this was no ordinary battle¡ªit was a clash between two mortals imbued with the blessings of goddesses. each step, each strike, carried the weight of divine will and mortal ambition. they began circling one another, the tension between them thick as a drawn bowstring. neither dared to make a reckless move, for a single mistake could mean death. menelaus observed paris''s stance with a disdainful smirk curling his lips. the trojan prince''s form was stiff, his grip on the sword betraying inexperience. menelaus nearly laughed aloud¡ªparis was no swordsman. he was an archer, out of his element. paris, noticing the mocking glint in menelaus''s eyes, scowled deeply. that momentary distraction was all menelaus needed. seizing the opportunity, he closed the distance with a burst of speed, thrusting his lance directly toward paris''s head. the sharp point whistled through the air, but paris''s reflexes, sharpened by artemis''s blessing, saved him. he dodged at the last moment, twisting away and retaliating with a swift swing of his sword aimed at menelaus''s chest. menelaus parried the strike effortlessly, the shaft of his lance deflecting the blow with a resounding clang. he countered with a powerful kick that sent paris staggering backward. paris groaned as the impact numbed his arm, the force of the kick leaving it throbbing and red. he tightened his grip on his weapon, his resolve hardening despite the pain. "without the goddess''s blessing, you''re nothing but a pathetic fool, paris!" menelaus jeered, his laughter echoing cruelly across the battlefield. fury burned in paris''s eyes. "shut up! you''re not worthy of helen!" he shouted, his voice shaking with rage. in a blur of motion, paris rolled to the side, evading menelaus''s downward strike. he grabbed a nearby shield, bracing himself for the next exchange. using the momentum of his movements, paris surged forward, slamming the shield into menelaus with surprising force. understanding dawned on menelaus like a thunderclap. his expression darkened, his lips curling into a snarl. "that coward!!!!" he roared, his voice so fierce that even his own soldiers recoiled in fear. before menelaus could act on his fury, a calm yet commanding voice cut through the tension. "enough," said odysseus, stepping forward with an air of authority. his calculating gaze shifted to hector, who stood grim-faced amidst the chaos. "paris''s flight from the battlefield is a clear sign of his defeat," odysseus declared, his tone measured but firm. "menelaus has won. it is now your duty to honor the promises made. return helen of sparta to her rightful husband. and when you find paris¡ª" his voice hardened, "¡ªyou will deliver his head to us. the war is over." odysseus inwardly sighed in relief. finally, this senseless war over a woman and wealth seemed poised to end. the promise of peace stirred hope within him¡ªa hope to return to ithaca, to embrace his beloved wife, penelope, and to see his young son, telemachus, once more. but peace, it seemed, was not to be so easily won. agamemnon stood nearby, his face twisted in barely concealed frustration. the high king of mycenae burned with ambition, and though he loathed the thought of abandoning his grand campaign, he knew he couldn''t openly defy odysseus''s logic. so, he gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he swallowed his objections. far above the battlefield, two divine figures watched the unfolding events with different expressions. hera''s gaze was ice, her wrath simmering beneath the surface. this resolution was not what she wanted. her hatred for troy and its people demanded utter annihilation, not a truce. with a subtle glance, she conveyed her displeasure to athena, her silent command unmistakable. athena, though reluctant, gave a nod of understanding. she disappeared from hera''s side, stepping unseen into the mortal fray. nathan, standing among the onlookers, felt a shiver run down his spine as he caught sight of athena materializing, her divine form visible only to a few. his white hair fluttered in the wind as his keen eyes tracked her movements. athena glided silently to a certain trojan archer, one of the many stationed at the edges of the battlefield. her presence was overwhelming, and the man froze as her voice, melodic and commanding, whispered in his ear. "now is your moment," she urged, her words laced with divine compulsion. "take your bow. strike down menelaus. avenge troy''s honor." the archer, trembling yet emboldened by the goddess''s influence, obeyed without hesitation. his hands moved swiftly, nocking an arrow to his bowstring. he raised his weapon, his target clear¡ªthe spartan king, menelaus. nathan''s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. the spark of athena''s interference ignited his fury. "no!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the tense silence. he surged forward, desperate to stop the archer before chaos could reignite. but he was too late. the bowstring sang as the arrow was loosed. it soared through the air, glinting in the sunlight before finding its mark. "argh!" menelaus let out a guttural cry as the arrow pierced his shoulder with brutal force. blood spilled from the wound as he fell to his knees, clutching at the shaft embedded in his flesh. the greeks erupted in outrage. cries of betrayal and fury echoed across the battlefield, drowning out any hope of reason. agamemnon, who had observed the scene unfold, allowed a dark smile to creep across his face. this was the excuse he had been waiting for¡ªa pretext to unleash his full fury upon troy. "kill them all!!" Chapter 268 Heirons rampaging! "kill them all!!" the greek soldiers, already inflamed with anger, charged forward with renewed ferocity, their weapons raised and their cries echoing their leader''s command. the fragile peace shattered in an instant, replaced by the deafening roar of war. nathan stood frozen, his fists clenched as the chaos unfolded before him. his heart sank, knowing the bloodshed that was to come. athena''s gaze flickered toward him briefly, her expression unreadable, before she vanished into the ether. above it all, hera smirked in satisfaction. the war would continue, and troy''s fate was sealed. "the war won''t stop until troy is reduced to ashes," hera declared, her voice cutting through the heavens like a blade. her words were loud enough for the gods protecting troy to hear¡ªand pointedly aimed at the mortal who dared see her. nathan''s gaze turned sharp as ice. he no longer cared to hide his abnormal ability to perceive the divine. not now. his white hair swayed in the breeze as his cold, piercing eyes locked onto hera. clenching his fists tightly, he silently vowed, not now, but soon. he would deal with her¡ªand not just hera. his eyes flicked to athena, who stood nearby with her usual cool, calculating expression. "athena," nathan muttered. he would definitely take care of both of them later. "enough of this," artemis snarled, her teeth gritted in righteous fury. unlike hera and athena, her loyalty to troy made her bristle at the greeks'' dominance on the battlefield. "calm yourself, artemis," aphrodite murmured, her expression a mix of worry and disdain. she watched the slaughter below as greeks and trojans clashed with renewed violence. the once-fragile truce was now a distant memory, replaced by the bloodthirsty cries of war. it was as if the hatred and anger of both sides had reached their peak. swords clashed, spears thrust, and arrows rained down as the battlefield devolved into chaos. it looked like the war could go on for hundreds of years without any sides getting tired at all. amid the madness, hector barked orders to his soldiers. "get back! form up! quickly, before they overwhelm us!" his voice carried over the battlefield, urging the trojans to regroup. yet even hector struggled to rally his forces; the greeks, fueled by divine intervention and bloodlust, were relentless. but then, something changed. a sudden, chilling wave of frost erupted across the battlefield, radiating outward like a winter storm. hundreds of greek soldiers froze in place, their bodies encased in ice, their war cries silenced mid-scream. the trojans stopped in their tracks, stunned, before turning to see the source of the frigid power. there stood nathan, his hand outstretched, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly light. nathan''s eyes darkened as an ominous energy coiled around him, his mana radiating like a storm barely held in check. "celestial rank magic," he muttered, his voice a chilling whisper. the mana condensed around his lance, transforming it. the weapon elongated, its shaft turning a pale frosty blue, and it hovered just above the ground, vibrating with deadly intent. the soldiers who had dared to advance now stumbled back, fear writ large on their faces. the air grew frigid, and frost began to creep across the battlefield, consuming the earth itself. odysseus''s expression hardened, his calm resolve unwavering. menelaus, however, began to panic, his eyes darting between nathan and the growing power in his lance. "odysseus! do something! in my state, i can''t stop this!" menelaus''s voice cracked with desperation. "stay calm," odysseus replied tersely, raising a hand to signal restraint. his eyes locked with nathan''s. nathan''s gaze turned colder still. "i will blow you both away," he snarled. with a flick of his wrist, the massive frosty lance launched forward, tearing through the air with an ear-splitting shriek. the attack barreled toward its target, promising nothing short of annihilation. but as it neared odysseus, a radiant barrier shimmered into existence. the divine shield materialized with a golden glow, halting the lance in its tracks. the impact sent shockwaves rippling outward, but the barrier held firm. nathan''s eyes narrowed as he spotted the source. athena floated above the battlefield, her divine presence undeniable. her gaze met nathan''s, cool and unyielding, a silent declaration of her intent to protect the greek leaders. "again and fucking again," nathan muttered, his frustration mounting. "these goddesses won''t let me finish this." odysseus lowered his hand, his expression unreadable but tinged with relief. he stepped forward, his voice calm but carrying an edge of genuine curiosity. "abandon this, heiron. you''re just a mercenary. why give so much for a country that doesn''t care about you?" "they are far more honorable than pathetic men like you all," nathan spat, his tone carrying a weight that seemed to still the chaos around him. he gestured to the bodies littering the ground, his expression a mask of righteous fury. "you didn''t spare the innocent. you enslaved innocent women and children¡ªpeople who asked for nothing, did nothing to deserve this cruelty. you destroyed their lives without hesitation. tell me, odysseus, how many have died because of you? how many have suffered because of your trash king''s ambitions?" odysseus stood silent, though his clenched fists betrayed the turmoil within him. nathan pressed on, his voice growing colder. "you''re a father, aren''t you? a husband to a beautiful wife. a king to your people. you, of all men, should understand the weight of those roles. and yet, you''ve abandoned that understanding. deep down, i know you see it too. the greeks¡ªyour people¡ªare the ones who deserve to lose this war." odysseus''s composure faltered, but he remained silent. the tension in the air was palpable as nathan''s accusations struck home. nathan turned his fiery gaze to the gathering crowd of greeks, his voice rising with righteous indignation. "your so-called king of kings, agamemnon, is the worst of you all. the man sacrificed his own daughter for a war¡ªfor his own glory! tell me, how old was she? six years old, wasn''t she?" his words dripped with contempt as he recalled clytemnestra''s heart-wrenching cries for vengeance. "is that normal for you greeks?! is that the kind of man you follow into battle?!" a ripple of unease spread through the greek ranks. soldiers shifted uncomfortably, their expressions ranging from shame to anger. even agamemnon, standing amidst the crowd, glared furiously at nathan, but the latter was undeterred. his words carried the weight of truth, and he refused to falter. as nathan''s words carried across the battlefield, amplified by the deep voice skill, they reached not only the soldiers but even the walls of troy. on the walls, clytemnestra stood, her hands covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face. nathan''s words had pierced her heart, as he shared her grief and her anger. she sobbed openly, her shoulders shaking as she felt, for the first time in years, doing something for her. "that is your king?!" nathan continued, his voice unyielding. "no wonder you''re all trash!" menelaus, his pride stung, couldn''t hold back. "what could a brat like you possibly understand?!" he shouted, his face red with fury. nathan laughed, a sound filled with contempt and pity. "what i understand?" he echoed, his tone dripping with derision. "i''ve known king priam for only a few months, but in that short time, he has proven himself a better king than any of your so-called rulers. he is willing to risk his entire city to protect an innocent woman. that speaks volumes about his character. he may not be remembered for grand conquests or endless wars, but he will be remembered fondly by the people of this era." Chapter 269 Nathans rage nathan laughed, a sound filled with contempt and pity. "what i understand?" he echoed, his tone dripping with derision. "i''ve known king priam for only a few months, but in that short time, he has proven himself a better king than any of your so-called rulers. he is willing to risk his entire city to protect an innocent woman. that speaks volumes about his character. he may not be remembered for grand conquests or endless wars, but he will be remembered fondly by the people of this era." "heiron..." priam''s voice quivered with emotion as he listened to nathan''s impassioned words, deeply moved by the young man''s fierce determination. for priam, the truth was undeniable¡ªhe had no intention of surrendering helen to the greeks, even if it meant incurring the wrath of every king in their alliance. he had come to know helen well enough to see her as an innocent soul, unfairly caught in the web of this relentless war. his resolve was mirrored in the soft yet determined smiles of hecuba and andromache, who stood by his side. nathan''s voice thundered across the battlefield, cutting through the clamor of war like a blade through flesh. "you spartans claim to pride yourselves on honor, but what honor is there in taking revenge on an innocent woman? a woman who doesn''t even love you! if you were truly a man, you would let her go¡ªto live her life on her own terms, freely! did she ever harm you? did she ever deserve to be treated like a trophy to flaunt before your enemies?" menelaus, who had been ready to retort, found his words strangled in his throat as nathan continued, his words relentless and piercing. "her father entrusted her to you¡ªnot as a prize, but as a charge to protect her from the lecherous monsters who masquerade as kings and gods alike. and what did you do? you turned his trust into betrayal! you ignored her suffering and used her as an excuse to stoke your pathetic pride! you called upon your trash brother to wage war, not for justice or love, but for your own fragile ego!" helen, watching from the high walls of troy, trembled as she heard these words. her hands instinctively covered her lips, stifling a sob as her eyes filled with tears. only her family knew the truth of her father''s decision¡ªthe desperate measures he took to shield her from the lust of gods like poseidon, who would have violated her had it not been for her father''s swift intervention. for years, she bore the weight of being misunderstood, as just a whore seducing all kings. tears spilled over as kassandra stepped forward to support helen. the seeress gently placed a hand on her shoulder while her gaze lingered on nathan who took everyone''s attention including the gods. nathan''s voice rose again. "and i dare to say this: all trojans here¡ªmen who fight not for glory but to protect their families, their wives, their children, even a stranger woman they''ve taken under their care¡ªeach of them deserves to reach the so-called islands of heroes in the afterlife! if the gods above have even a sliver of intelligence or decency, they will see the righteousness of these people and honor their sacrifices." "heiron..." the words struck hector and aeneas.no?v(el)b\\jnn the trojans around them stood in silence, every word etched into their souls. even in the face of death, they felt emboldened, their cause vindicated by nathan''s eloquence. at this point, heiron entered until the end inside their hearts, he won all of them. meanwhile, astynome''s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her heart pounding in admiration and love for the man who had captivated her. she couldn''t help but marvel at his strength, both in body and conviction. elsewhere on the battlefield, penthesilea, queen of the amazons, was locked in fierce combat with a group of greek soldiers. yet, even in the midst of her relentless strikes, a wide grin spread across her face. her sharp eyes had caught glimpses of nathan''s commanding presence and his bold words echoing across the battlefield. "i have chosen well," she thought with satisfaction. this man, a warrior who fought with both his heart and his sword, was exactly the ally¡ªand perhaps more¡ªshe had hoped for. if only nathan had been born a greek king. could he have been the one to change their path, to pull them away from this pit of selfishness and cruelty? odysseus could only wonder. "i understand, heiron," he said, his voice firmer now. "but as a greek king, it is my duty to ensure our victory." nathan''s eyes narrowed, his voice turning icy. "odysseus, i want agamemnon''s head. are you going to stand in my way?" his lance pointed directly at the older man, its tip gleaming with deadly intent. odysseus held nathan''s gaze, his expression a mix of regret and resolve. he had seen a kindred spirit in nathan, someone who shared his disdain for the darkness that plagued their world. but he was bound by duty, no matter how much it pained him. "i will," he said, his voice steady. nathan''s eyes flashed with fury, his grip on the lance tightening. "then you will never see penelope or your son again." his words were sharp. read new chapters at empire odysseus met his gaze. "we will see about that." with that, he turned, his steps heavy yet resolute. nathan surged forward, his lance poised to strike, but a towering figure stepped between them, blocking his path. the sheer presence of the man was overwhelming, his form a mountain of muscle and power. nathan immediately sensed danger and leaped back, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the new challenger. it was none other than heracles. the demigod, a son of zeus and one of greece''s strongest warriors, stood before nathan like a fortress. his gaze was steady, his demeanor calm yet commanding. "i will have to stop you with all my strength this time, black commander," heracles said, his voice deep and resolute. nathan''s grip tightened around his lance, his icy gaze meeting the demigod''s stare. Chapter 270: Heiron vs Heracles! (1) it was none other than heracles. the demigod, a son of zeus and one of greece¡¯s strongest warriors, stood before nathan like a fortress. his gaze was steady, his demeanor calm yet commanding. "i will have to stop you with all my strength this time, black commander," heracles said, his voice deep and resolute. nathan¡¯s grip tightened around his lance, his icy gaze meeting the demigod¡¯s stare. nathan stood silently as the imposing figure of heracles loomed before him, his muscles taut and his presence commanding. the flicker of distant torches danced on heracles¡¯ bronzed skin, casting shifting shadows that only enhanced his legendary aura. but nathan¡¯s expression remained unchanged¡ªa frigid, unyielding stare that seemed capable of freezing the very air between them. "you... you¡¯re the one who attacked and saved briseis that day, aren¡¯t you?" heracles¡¯ deep voice rumbled, each word laced with certainty. his lips curled into a half-smirk. "you must also be the one who took apollo¡¯s priestess. that¡¯s your handiwork, isn¡¯t it?" nathan offered no response. his silence was colder than any words could have been, his icy demeanor sharp enough to cut through heracles¡¯ feigned nonchalance. heracles chuckled softly, the sound reverberating like a roll of distant thunder. "i recognized the dragon you stole to whisk medea away and claim the golden fleece. rescuing women with dragons... seems to have become a habit of yours, hasn¡¯t it?" but nathan¡¯s icy stare did not waver. his body remained tense, his every muscle coiled like a viper ready to strike. he was in no mood for games or idle banter. his silence was an answer in itself¡ªone of disdain and absolute resolve. heracles tilted his head, studying him. "i¡¯ll be honest with you," he said, his tone softening slightly. "i don¡¯t want to fight you." nathan¡¯s voice was like a winter wind, biting and unforgiving. "move, then." heracles¡¯ expression hardened. "i can¡¯t do that. odysseus is one of my dearest friends. i can¡¯t let you kill him." nathan¡¯s eyes narrowed, his words cutting like shards of ice. "he¡¯s courting death himself. it¡¯s not him i want; it¡¯s agamemnon¡¯s head i seek." heracles shook his head slowly, a trace of regret in his gaze. "you know that won¡¯t happen. hera and athena will never let you kill either of them¡ªodysseus or agamemnon." blood erupted from nathan¡¯s mouth as he coughed violently, his body wracked with pain. yet, even as the world spun around him, his left eye snapped open, its iris glowing with a demonic golden light. gritting his teeth, he drove his lance into the ground to steady himself, forcing his battered body upright. his armor was cracked and broken, shards of metal falling away with every movement, but his gaze remained as cold and unyielding as ever. heracles, standing amidst the settling dust, watched with a mixture of awe and amusement. his chest heaved as he caught his breath. "what a monster," he muttered with a laugh, shaking his head at the resilience of his opponent. without warning, heracles launched another surge of celestial magic, a blinding wave of energy that rushed toward nathan. bracing himself, nathan summoned a fresh surge of ice, reinforcing his defenses. the ground beneath him froze solid as the two powers clashed, the impact sending shards of frost and divine light scattering in all directions. nathan gritted his teeth, his icy shield barely holding against the onslaught. it was khione¡¯s ice he had called upon, though none would ever suspect the truth. even the goddesses, with all their wisdom, would find it difficult to discern the origin of such divine frost. for now, the secret remained his alone. heracles tensed, sensing a divine presence drawing near. hera¡¯s aura washed over the battlefield like an oppressive tide, her power unmistakable. she approached with an air of regal determination, her gaze fixed on nathan. to her, this was the perfect opportunity to rid herself of the pest heiron, who had been a thorn in her side for far too long. nathan¡¯s expression darkened further as his eyes locked onto the goddess. cold disdain radiated from him, but hera remained unfazed. her focus shifted to heracles, ready to bestow her blessing upon her champion. but heracles raised a hand, shaking his head. "adopted mother, please," he said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion in his body. "i want to fight him without any blessings. he¡¯s fighting without divine aid, and i want to face him fairly." hera¡¯s brows knit in frustration, her tone sharp. "your sense of fairness and righteousness will be the death of you, heracles," she said, her words heavy with disapproval. she knew that with her blessing, victory against nathan would be assured. without it, she couldn¡¯t be certain. heracles, however, stood firm. "perhaps, but his resolve... his words... they¡¯ve touched me. i want to fight him for the man he is. please, let me do this." hera¡¯s frown deepened, her lips pressed into a thin line. "as you wish," she said finally, abandoning any further attempts to sway him. she turned away with a wave of her hand, her disappointment evident. though heracles was not her true son, merely another of zeus¡¯s illegitimate offspring, he was among the few she held in higher regard than her own biological child, ares. despite her misgivings, she respected his decision, even if she believed it to be foolish. nathan stood still, unsure of what to make of heracles¡¯s decision. the hero had refused a blessing that would have guaranteed his victory. in nathan¡¯s current state, he wasn¡¯t confident he could defeat heracles, even without hera¡¯s divine aid. it seemed heracles was among the rare greeks who might deserve respect, alongside patroclus, achilles, and perhaps even odysseus. your adventure continues at empire heracles¡¯s voice broke through nathan¡¯s thoughts. "are you ready?" he asked, fists raised and poised for battle. nathan gripped his lance tightly and nodded. this time, there would be no holding back. both warriors prepared to unleash their full strength. Chapter 271: Heiron vs Heracles! (2) Heracles¡¯s voice broke through Nathan¡¯s thoughts. "Are you ready?" he asked, fists raised and poised for battle. Nathan gripped his lance tightly and nodded. This time, there would be no holding back. Both warriors prepared to unleash their full strength. Heracles moved first, vanishing from sight in a blur of motion. Before Nathan could react, the demigod reappeared directly in front of him, his speed startlingly faster than before. Nathan barely managed to raise his arm in defense before a powerful fist collided with it. The force of the blow sent shockwaves through his body, and he heard the ominous sound of his bones creaking under the impact. The force hurled him backward, crashing him into the frozen ground. Heracles was relentless. He appeared above Nathan in a flash, descending rapidly with a raised leg, ready to deliver a crushing kick. But Nathan rolled aside at the last second, swinging his lance in a wide arc. Frost erupted from the weapon, instantly freezing the ground where Heracles landed. Ice crawled up Heracles¡¯s legs, immobilizing him momentarily. Seizing the opportunity, Nathan channeled immense power into his fist. He lunged forward and delivered a punch to Heracles¡¯s cheek. Though his fist was much smaller than the demigod¡¯s, the impact was monumental. The deafening crack of the blow echoed through the battlefield, shaking the air itself. Heracles groaned as the force sent him flying across the frozen terrain. Nathan didn¡¯t waste a moment. He closed the distance with blinding speed, raising his lance high before driving it down toward Heracles. The ground trembled as the lance struck, creating a massive crater. But Heracles was no longer there. Before Nathan could process what had happened, Heracles reappeared, his massive hand clamping onto Nathan¡¯s arm. With a mighty swing, he hurled Nathan through the air like a ragdoll. The world blurred around Nathan as he flew at an incredible speed. Desperately, he tried to regain his balance, but Heracles was already upon him again, his fist glowing with a fierce energy. "Iron Fist!" Heracles roared, bringing his glowing hand down in a devastating strike. Nathan crossed his arms in front of his chest, bracing himself for the impact. The blow connected with a thunderous explosion, the force reverberating through the battlefield. BADAAAM! Nathan gritted his teeth, his arms throbbing with pain as he absorbed the full brunt of Heracles¡¯s devastating "Iron Fist." The sheer force of the blow left the ground beneath him fractured, deep fissures spreading out like veins across the battlefield. He skidded backward, his boots digging trenches in the frozen earth. The air was thick with tension, every breath Nathan took feeling like a struggle against an invisible weight. Heracles stood tall, his glowing fist still radiating heat. He cracked his knuckles, his expression a mixture of admiration and determination. "You¡¯re tougher than I thought," he said, his voice carrying a grudging respect. "Most would¡¯ve been crushed by that." Nathan¡¯s golden eye glinted ominously as he steadied himself, his lance glowing faintly with frost. "I¡¯ve faced worse," he replied, his voice cold. He didn¡¯t mention the searing pain coursing through his arms or the creeping fatigue in his muscles. There was no room for weakness here. Without warning, Heracles charged again, his movements a blur. Nathan barely had time to react as the demigod¡¯s massive fist came hurtling toward him. He twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the blow, and retaliated with a quick thrust of his lance. Frost exploded outward, but Heracles swatted the attack aside with his forearm, the ice shattering harmlessly. "You¡¯re going to need more than that," Heracles taunted, throwing a series of rapid punches. Each one carried enough force to level a building, but Nathan¡¯s agility kept him just out of reach. He ducked, weaved, and countered when he could, his lance leaving trails of frost in the air. But Heracles was relentless. He closed the distance, his massive frame towering over Nathan as he swung a powerful backhand. This time, Nathan wasn¡¯t quick enough. The blow connected, sending him sprawling across the battlefield. He tumbled through the icy terrain, his armor scraping against the ground before he managed to dig his lance into the earth and halt his momentum. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he rose, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Heracles was already on him, his fists glowing with celestial energy. Nathan knew he couldn¡¯t afford another direct hit. Summoning his strength, he slammed the butt of his lance into the ground, creating a dome of ice around him. Heracles¡¯s fists collided with the barrier, the impact sending cracks spidering through the ice. The demigod didn¡¯t relent, each punch more ferocious than the last. Nathan concentrated, pouring his energy into reinforcing the barrier. The temperature around them plummeted, frost creeping up Heracles¡¯s arms as the icy dome absorbed the force of his blows. Finally, with a deafening crack, the barrier shattered, shards of ice exploding outward. Heracles shielded his face with his arm, but the brief distraction was all Nathan needed. He surged forward, his lance coated in a shimmering layer of frost. With a powerful thrust, he aimed for Heracles¡¯s chest. The lance struck true, the icy blade piercing Heracles¡¯s flesh. Frost spread rapidly from the wound, but Heracles gritted his teeth and grabbed the lance¡¯s shaft. "Not bad," he admitted, his voice strained. Then, with a tremendous roar, he snapped the lance in two, the shards of ice scattering across the battlefield. Nathan stumbled back, the broken weapon still clutched in his hands. Heracles pressed a hand to his chest, steam rising as his mana began to heal the wound. "You¡¯ve got skill, I¡¯ll give you that," he said, his tone almost conversational. "But you¡¯re not the only one who¡¯s been holding back." Nathan¡¯s golden eye narrowed. "What are you talking about?" Heracles grinned, his muscles tensing as he raised his arms. "Time to show you why they call me a legend." Golden light enveloped him, his body glowing with divine power. The air around him crackled with energy, the sheer intensity of it forcing Nathan to take a step back. Nathan didn¡¯t wait. The moment Heracles was airborne, he surged forward again, moving at a speed so blinding that it left afterimages in his wake. Heracles, dazed and struggling to remain conscious, bit down on his tongue until blood filled his mouth. The searing pain jolted him back to awareness. His eyes snapped open, burning with an intensity that defied his injuries. He roared, his voice reverberating through the battlefield. "COME, SAMAEL!!!" A cataclysmic BADOOOM!! accompanied his shout as he unleashed the full brunt of his power, his muscles bulging unnaturally as he burned through every ounce of mana left in his body. Nathan¡¯s kick landed on Heracles¡¯s side like a battering ram. The demigod raised his arm to block, muscles straining to hold firm against the assault. For a fleeting moment, Heracles seemed immovable, an unyielding fortress. But the sound of cracking bones soon betrayed him. His arm gave way, and the force of the kick sent him flying once again, his battered form carving another scar into the earth. Despite his unleashed power, Heracles was no match for Nathan in his current state. The difference in strength was insurmountable. Heracles coughed up blood as he stumbled to his feet, his body trembling. But his eyes blazed with unwavering determination. "This... will be my final ONE," he muttered through clenched teeth. Nathan stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes. Heracles raised his arms, veins bulging and bursting under the strain as golden light coalesced between his hands. The battlefield grew silent, the winds stilled, and all combat ceased as every warrior turned their gaze to the unfolding spectacle. From the swirling light emerged a massive, burning lion. Its form towered above the battlefield, its mane a blazing inferno that scorched the ground beneath it. The air vibrated with its guttural roar, a sound that resonated with primal power. Heracles¡¯s voice thundered across the field. "DIVINE RANK MAGIC¡ªZEUS¡¯S LION¡¯S ROAR!" The lion charged, its fiery form tearing through the battlefield with apocalyptic force, annihilating everything in its path. Nathan stood firm, his body weary but his resolve unbroken. He whispered under his breath, "Divine Rank Magic..." To beat someone of Heracles¡¯s caliber he had no choices. His Divine MAGIC was incomplete and not a true one compared to Heracles but Nathan counted on his stats to get the win. Khione¡¯s icy magic enveloped him, a cold mist veiling his form. He raised his hand, and the ice surged outward, shaping itself into a sleek, divine lance. The weapon shimmered with an unearthly beauty, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with ancient power. Heracles unleashed his attack with a ferocious roar, the lion¡¯s fiery body racing toward Nathan with unstoppable momentum. Nathan remained calm. He swept his lance forward, its tip pointed toward the oncoming destruction. "LANCE OF THE FROZEN DEATH," he declared, his voice carrying a chilling finality. The lance shot forward, a blur of freezing energy that seemed to freeze the very air in its path. The two forces collided in a cataclysmic explosion. BADOOOOOOOOOM!!! Chapter 272 : Heracless End BADOOOOOOOOOM!!! A blinding light consumed the battlefield as fire and ice clashed, their opposing energies tearing at each other in a devastating storm. The ground quaked, and shockwaves rippled outward, forcing even the farthest observers to shield themselves from the sheer force of the impact. The sheer force of the clash rippled across the battlefield, knocking even the strongest warriors off their feet. Those who believed themselves safe at a distance found no sanctuary, as the shockwave swept through the field like a tempest, leaving none untouched. When the ground finally ceased its trembling, an oppressive silence descended. Everyone held their breath, their hearts pounding as they fixed their gaze on the billowing curtains of dust. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as anticipation thickened the air. Who had emerged victorious? Was it Heracles, the mighty demigod revered across lands for his unparalleled feats? Or was it Heiron, the mercenary whose presence carried a weight few could comprehend? As the dust began to settle, revealing the aftermath of the epic confrontation, a collective gasp arose. One figure stood tall, battered but resolute, while the other knelt, the strength drained from their very being. It was Heracles who remained standing, his powerful frame still imposing despite the toll of the battle. Before him, Heiron knelt, his shoulders slumped, his face pale and etched with exhaustion. Heracles gazed down at Heiron, his expression a complex of feelings. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came immediately. His mind swirled with memories¡ªof victories past and the weight of his long, storied life. Continue reading on empire This was Heracles, the hero who had wrestled a giant lion, subdued a raging bull, and faced Cerberus, the hound of Hades, without faltering. He had accomplished the legendary Twelve Labors, enduring trials that even the gods themselves deemed nearly impossible. Monsters, tyrants, and challenges of divine origin had all fallen before his strength and perseverance. Recently, he had been bestowed the status of a god in name¡ªa recognition of his unmatched deeds. Though mortal in essence, Heracles had felt pride in such acknowledgment. But even a life so decorated had its moments of failure and loss. The quest for the Golden Fleece had been a bitter disappointment, a rare blemish on his otherwise illustrious record. It was during that failed endeavor that he had first encountered Samael. From the moment Heracles laid eyes on the man, he knew Samael was no ordinary individual. There was something otherworldly about him, a sense of greatness that surpassed even Heracles'' own legendary stature. Samael''s presence had left an indelible mark on Heracles, a mixture of awe and unease. Fate, however, was not yet finished weaving their destinies together. Months later, the Trojan War brought them face to face once more. Yet, this time, Samael wore a different guise: Heiron, the warrior whose strength and bravery had captivated Heracles throughout the campaign. Heracles had watched Heiron fight with courage, defending Hector and his cause with an intensity that inspired even his enemies. Over months of war, Heracles had grown to admire the man who now knelt before him. But the cost of this final battle was steep. Blood trickled from Heracles'' lips, staining his chin and chest. He struggled to remain upright, even as he stared at Heiron''s mismatched eyes¡ªone an icy blue, the other a demonic gold, radiating a power Heracles could scarcely fathom. "I am glad," Heracles finally said, his voice heavy with emotion, "that it was you I lost against." With those words, the great Heracles allowed himself to succumb to his injuries. His eyelids grew heavy, and his towering frame crumpled forward. He collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã In Olympus, a heavy silence enveloped the great halls, a silence so profound that it seemed even the wind dared not disturb it. The death of Heracles, the mightiest of heroes and a beloved son of Zeus, weighed heavily on the gods. Among them, Heracles had been cherished for his feats and endurance, his victories celebrated across Olympus as proof of the gods'' favor. His passing struck a chord in every divine heart, though the responses varied. Most gods did not harbor anger toward Heiron, the mortal who had slain him. They knew Heracles well¡ªhe was a man who lived and died on his own terms. His life was a tapestry of struggles and triumphs, woven with both mortal and divine threads. To die in battle, facing a worthy opponent, was a fitting end for the son of Zeus. Zeus himself sat upon his grand throne, his face a mask of grief tempered by acceptance. Heracles had been one of his most cherished sons, a symbol of strength and resilience. While sadness tugged at his heart, there was solace in knowing that Heracles would now rest on the Isle of Heroes, a place reserved for the greatest of mortals. After a lifetime of trials and suffering, Heracles deserved peace. But not all shared his calm. Hera stood nearby, her features twisted in fury. Her eyes burned as she directed her anger toward her husband. "Are you truly going to let that Heiron live?" she demanded, her voice sharp and accusatory. Zeus''s eyes narrowed slightly, his tone measured but cold. "I do not understand your meaning, Hera." "You know exactly what I mean!" Hera snapped. "That mortal¡ªhe killed your son! And don''t tell me his strength is natural. A mortal appearing out of nowhere, wielding power like that? It''s clear he''s a threat! You must strike him down before he becomes dangerous!" Before Zeus could respond, Artemis, seated calmly among the gods, spoke with a sardonic edge. "How convenient it would be for you if Heiron were to die now, wouldn''t it, Hera?" Hera turned her glare on Artemis, her anger simmering, but she quickly returned her focus to Zeus. The King of the Gods suddenly rose, his towering form casting a shadow over the assembly. His eyes, once filled with grief, now burned with the fierce intensity of a storm. The gods in attendance felt an undeniable shift in the air¡ªa reminder of the Zeus of millennia past, the ruler who had once led them to victory against the Titans. When he spoke, his voice rumbled like thunder, resonating throughout Olympus. "From this moment forward, I forbid any god from interfering in the war. None shall take part in the battles, influence the mortals, or intervene in their fate. No aid. No meddling. No exceptions. Is that understood?" A wave of unease rippled through the gods. Many averted their gazes, shivers running down their spines at the sheer authority in his words. This was not the Zeus they had come to know in recent years¡ªthis was Zeus in his prime, the king whose will was law and whose wrath was feared. Zeus''s gaze swept over the assembly, lingering pointedly on Hera and Poseidon. Hera''s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she trembled with suppressed rage. She did not dare voice her defiance, though her silence was filled with venom. Poseidon, seated with his trident resting beside him, scowled but held his tongue. The God of the Seas was clearly displeased but unwilling to challenge Zeus''s decree outright. Satisfied that his command had been understood, Zeus turned his piercing gaze toward the mortal realm. The battlefield below stretched before him, a tapestry of chaos and destiny. He could feel the tides of fate shifting, the echoes of war reaching their crescendo. "The final act of this war begins now and we have no rights to intervene or influence it," Zeus murmured, his voice softer but no less commanding. "And it will be theirs to shape." Chapter 273 Aphrodites Tongue Work * "It seems Zeus has forbidden all of us from intervening in the war any further," Aphrodite revealed, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and mild frustration. The news wasn''t surprising, though it was irritating. It appeared the gods had convened right after Heracles'' death¡ªa loss that must have sent tremors through Olympus. As expected, Hera, with her ceaseless disdain for me, seized the opportunity to demand my execution. This time, she hadn''t cloaked her intentions in flowery language or subtle manipulations; she had outright asked Zeus to kill me. That goddess... I swear she will pay for her insolence. No mercy will be shown. Not this time. I''ve learned my lesson well from past mistakes. Khione had faced punishment for daring to cast me aside, for even considering the idea of ridding herself of me. The repercussions for her treachery were swift and merciless. So imagine what I will do to Hera, the goddess who has plotted my death at every turn. She must think I''m blind. Does she truly believe I haven''t noticed the countless times she''s taken control of a Greek soldier, nudging him to aim an arrow or swing a sword at my back? I''ve seen it all. I''m not foolish, nor am I oblivious. Athena has dabbled in such schemes as well, though far less frequently than Hera. Just a little more patience, I told myself. Their time will come. "Really?" I said mockingly, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "Here I thought he was dead." Zeus. That so-called King of the Gods. Where had he been during the chaos of this war? I hadn''t seen him lift a finger to bring order. Shouldn''t he, of all beings, be trying to put an end to this madness? And if he absolutely had to choose a side, shouldn''t it have been the Trojans? They were the obvious underdogs, struggling against the overwhelming might of the Greeks and their divine patrons. But no. Zeus had done nothing. He had allowed Hera, Athena, and even Poseidon to run rampant, blessing their chosen mortals and meddling in every significant battle. And now, after four long months, he finally decided to grow a spine? Pathetic. I was lounging in the warm, soothing waters of my bath, the heat easing the tension from my weary muscles. The faint scent of lavender and sandalwood lingered in the steam, creating a serene ambiance that contrasted sharply with my simmering anger. Today had been exhausting, but here, in this moment, I allowed myself a brief reprieve. Aphrodite stood nearby, her laughter ringing like a melody, light and carefree as if she had no stakes in the gods'' squabbles. Her presence was both a distraction and a reminder of the absurdity of Olympus. "Zeus has changed a great deal from the days of old," she said, her lips curling into a soft smile. "Now, he seeks peace. He doesn''t want his children or family fighting one another anymore." "Peace?" I scoffed, my voice cutting through the tranquility of the room. "He''s a coward." At least Zeus wasn''t actively trying to kill me like his wife and daughter so dearly wished. That was the one thing I could grudgingly grant him. But cowardice wasn''t a virtue, and it certainly wasn''t worthy of the title "King of the Gods." Aphrodite leaned closer, her breath warm against my cheek, a wicked smile playing at her lips as she gazed into my eyes, unblinking and intense. "You''re lucky," she purred, her voice dripping with a mix of honey and venom. "Lucky I protect you during the Olympus meetings. The gods... they''re voting to kill you. Every day, your name dances on their lips like a whispered curse." Her smile didn''t falter, but her eyes burned with an enigmatic light, half-amusement, half-danger. Her mouth was a masterpiece of sensation, warm and wet, her saliva slicking my cock as she worshiped it with every movement. She spared no part of me, her tongue tracing over the sensitive ridge, then down to the base, her lips brushing my skin as she covered every inch of me with her attention. "Haa... Keep going," I groaned, my voice strained as I slid my fingers through her silky pink hair, guiding her gently. Aphrodite didn''t need much encouragement. With one last wet, lewd slurp, her lips parted wide, and she took me into her mouth. My cock slid past her lips, disappearing into her warmth inch by inch. Her throat tightened briefly, but she didn''t stop. Instead, she moaned around me¡ªa soft, vibrating sound that sent shivers racing up my spine. "Ungh... fuck," I hissed, gripping her hair as her head began to move, the suction of her lips so intense I could feel every drag and pull. "GLUUURP~~~gluuuuurp~~~sluuuuurp!" The room was filled with the symphony of her efforts, her muffled moans mixing with the wet, obscene sounds of her sucking. Each time she took me deeper, her tongue worked miracles, tracing my length even as her cheeks hollowed with effort. Her pink eyes fluttered shut briefly, lost in her work, but she opened them again to lock onto mine¡ªtaunting, gleaming with a goddess''s delight. Then she upped the ante. Her free hand drifted down, her soft fingers curling around my balls. She massaged them gently at first, then with more deliberate strokes, rolling and teasing them as her mouth continued to milk my cock. "Grhnnn!" I groaned, my hips jerking involuntarily as she pushed me deeper. She didn''t falter, though her throat tightened slightly as I filled it. "Hnmfffffhh!!" she moaned, her eyes half-closing again, but her determination never wavered. Her fingers continued their playful torment of my balls, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. Then, with a sudden, deliberate movement, she pulled her mouth free from my cock. Her lips were glistening, a trail of spit connecting them to me. Before I could process the loss of her mouth, she lowered her head, her tongue flicking out to trace over my balls. Her touch was both playful and devastatingly precise, her lips closing around one as she began to suck. "Guhh!" The suction was so intense, so perfectly controlled, that my knees nearly buckled. My hand tightened in her hair, holding her in place as she lavished her attention on me. Her tongue swirled around each orb, licking and sucking as if claiming every part of me as hers. Her hand hadn''t abandoned my cock, though. She pumped me with wild, fervent strokes, her movements faster, more desperate, as she sensed how close I was. Her strokes matched the rhythm of her mouth, her moans vibrating through me as she worked. "Aphro... Aphrodite..." I groaned, my voice raw, shaky. At the sound of her name, she looked up at me, her pink hair sticking to her cum-streaked face, her lips parted in anticipation. She positioned herself perfectly, her mouth open, waiting for the inevitable. SPUUUUURT! SPUUUUURT!! I erupted with force, my cum spurting into her open mouth. Her tongue darted out to catch every drop, her eyes lighting up as she swallowed, but I couldn''t control the sheer volume. White ropes splashed across her face, painting her cheeks and tangling in her pink locks. She didn''t flinch. Instead, she moaned softly, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as her fingers continued to milk me dry. Aphrodite tilted her head, licking the last stray drop from her lips as she gazed up at me, her face a perfect blend of divinity and depravity. Chapter 274 Eating Atalanta (1) * I erupted with force, my cum spurting into her open mouth. Her tongue darted out to catch every drop, her eyes lighting up as she swallowed, but I couldn''t control the sheer volume. White ropes splashed across her face, painting her cheeks and tangling in her pink locks. She didn''t flinch. Instead, she moaned softly, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as her fingers continued to milk me dry. Aphrodite tilted her head, licking the last stray drop from her lips as she gazed up at me, her face a perfect blend of divinity and depravity. "You did good but you should finish like a good girl," I said pointing at my dick still with filled with cum Aphrodite smiled, her pink eyes glinting mischievously as she cradled my softening cock in her hands. Without hesitation, she took me back into her warm mouth, her tongue swirling lazily as she cleaned every last trace of our encounter. "Sluuuurp~~~" The sound was as decadent as the sensation, her slow, deliberate licks sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through me. My groan was soft, almost involuntary. The sight of her, contentedly tending to me with her lips and tongue, made me want to stay lost in her touch forever. But then, a knock shattered the quiet intimacy. Frowning, I turned my head toward the door. It couldn''t have been Charybdis¡ªshe avoided the castle unless summoned, preferring the wild embrace of the sea. And besides, she''d join me later, slipping into my bed like a shadow. A familiar voice broke through my thoughts. "Heiron. It''s me." At that, my surprise turned to a grin. "I''m sorry, Aphrodite; our time will have to wait," I said, stroking her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft under my fingers, flushed with the afterglow of her efforts. She licked me one last time, her tongue dragging along my length with a final, languid stroke, before pulling back. Her lips curled into a sly smile, and she licked them clean with an air of satisfaction. "I''ve had enough for today," she murmured. With a flicker of divine energy, she vanished, leaving only the faintest trace of her scent lingering in the air. I dressed quickly, fastening my tunic with practiced hands before striding to the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by Atalanta''s familiar face. Her golden hair was slightly disheveled from the revelry, her sharp green eyes locking onto mine. "It''s a surprise to see you here," I said, leaning against the doorframe. "The feast for your victory just ended," she explained, her voice measured but tinged with concern. "I just wanted to see if you were all right." Her words stirred something within me. The battle against Heracles had left me drained, both body and soul, and though I had skipped the celebration, the bath¡ªand Aphrodite''s ministrations¡ªhad restored a semblance of my strength. Atalanta''s concern wasn''t unwarranted, but I could tell it came from a place of deep care. Her gaze flicked over me, taking in the signs of weariness I hadn''t fully managed to hide. Atalanta was perceptive, much like Hector. She could see the cracks I tried to keep hidden. Still, I straightened, letting my confidence bolster my tone. "You''re worried about me, I see. But don''t fret; I''m fine," I said softly, reaching out to cup her cheek. Scooping her slick essence onto my finger, I raised it between us, holding it as a tangible testament to her arousal. My other hand cradled her flushed face as I pressed my lips to hers, my tongue sliding over her trembling mouth. "Look," I murmured against her lips, my voice low and teasing. "It''s proof that your pussy is horny, Atalanta." Her face burned crimson, her green eyes widening in mortification as her gaze darted to my glistening finger. "Hmpmpff!" she tried to protest, but her words were muffled as I kissed her again, deep and slow, leaving her with no room for denial. The proof was undeniable, slick and shining on my fingertip. Finally, I parted from her lips, watching as she gasped for air, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. "Haaaa??...haaaa??...haan??..." she whimpered, her voice quivering, her resolve crumbling before me. Smirking, I licked my finger clean, savoring her taste, rich and intoxicating. Her eyes darted away, a futile attempt to escape the intensity of the moment. I wouldn''t let her hide. I caught her chin, guiding her face back to me, and pressed the same finger against her lips. "Suck it," I commanded, my voice dripping with authority as I trailed my finger across her trembling lips before slipping it past them. Her mouth parted reluctantly, and I pushed my finger in deeper, pressing her tongue down. "Good girl," I whispered, the praise meant to tease as much as to coax. Her soft lips closed around my finger, her tongue timidly working against it. Meanwhile, I crouched down, lifting her dress slowly, reverently, until her untouched pussy came into view. What a sight. Her folds were glistening, untouched, yet betraying her arousal with every drop that trailed down her thighs. Artemis''s oath had kept her pure, but here she was, dripping with need, her body betraying the divine vow. Unable to resist, I leaned in, my tongue darting out to catch the trail of her essence running down her thigh. The softness of her skin and the taste of her arousal sent a shiver through me. "Hmfghhh!" Atalanta bucked against me, her muffled protests swallowed by the fingers still playing with her tongue. Her knees wobbled, her strength faltering under the onslaught of sensations. I licked a slow path up her thigh, savoring every inch of her skin until I reached her soaked pussy. Pausing, I admired the beauty of it¡ªpristine, untouched, yet glistening and inviting. Then, without hesitation, I flattened my tongue and gave her a long, deliberate stroke, drinking in her wetness. "HMNFff????~~~!" Her moan was loud, broken, spilling from her throat as her body shuddered, releasing even more of her sweet nectar onto my tongue. "You''re so wet," I chuckled darkly, my breath warm against her trembling core. My lips and tongue returned to their task, lapping and savoring her virgin pussy, my hands gripping her thighs to hold her steady as I worked her into a frenzy. The room filled with the obscene sounds of slurping and Atalanta''s helpless moans. My tongue delved deeper, exploring her, teasing her, claiming her in ways no one else ever had. Her body writhed against me, her thighs pressing into my face, her attempts to resist fading with every passing second. When she came, it was sudden and intense, her juices flooding against my tongue as her body convulsed. I drank her in greedily, licking every last drop as her cries echoed in the room. Finally, I stood, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. Atalanta slumped against the door, her body trembling, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her green eyes were glazed, her lips parted as she barely managed to suck on my fingers, her energy spent. Stay connected with empire Withdrawing my fingers from her mouth, I licked them clean of her saliva, savoring the lingering taste of her. "It''s time to wake you up," I said with a wicked smirk, leaning in close, my eyes locking onto hers as I prepared to take her further down the path of no return. Chapter 275 Eating Atalanta (2) * Withdrawing my fingers from her mouth, I licked them clean of her saliva, savoring the lingering taste of her. "It''s time to wake you up," I said with a wicked smirk, leaning in close, my eyes locking onto hers as I prepared to take her further down the path of no return. I kissed her again, deeply and without restraint, plunging my tongue into her open mouth as she gasped for air, her breath ragged and needy. My tongue sought hers, tangling with it, dominating it, pulling her into the rhythm I set. "Hmppff!" Atalanta whimpered, the sound muffled as I toyed with her mouth, my tongue sliding against hers, tracing the soft insides of her cheeks, brushing over her teeth with teasing flicks. Her tongue surrendered to me, soft and submissive, letting me explore and claim her completely. When I finally pulled back, a thin thread of saliva connected us, glistening in the dim light. Her face was a vision¡ªflushed crimson, her skin glistening with sweat that trailed down her neck and along her heaving chest. Her hazy green eyes stared at me, glassy and overwhelmed, her lips parted and trembling. Leaning closer, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering just long enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin. My tongue flicked out, tasting the salty trail of sweat slipping down her cheek. Every movement, every touch, made her shudder beneath me, her body betraying the purity she tried to cling to. "This," I murmured, my voice low and dripping with authority, "is what a woman should feel. And this..." My hand slid down, cupping her soaked pussy, my fingers slipping between her slick folds. "...this is only the beginning."@@@@ Her thighs clamped shut around my hand instinctively, as if trying to deny me access, but the heat radiating from her told another story. She was drenched, her arousal dripping onto my fingers even as her body trembled with hesitation. "I want to fuck you, Atalanta," I growled, my fingers pressing more firmly against her wet slit, teasing her clit. "Right now." "B... But Artemis..." she stammered, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in glittering trails. Her devotion was tearing her apart¡ªdesire battling loyalty. Artemis had been her everything, her guardian, her guide, her savior. How could she betray that? I leaned in, my tongue darting out to catch a tear as it fell, the taste sharp and bitter but tinged with sweetness. "This will be our little secret," I whispered, my lips brushing against her ear. "And I promise you, Artemis will forgive you one day." My words dripped with confidence, a vow I intended to keep. Atalanta''s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, her mind waging a war even as her body betrayed her. Her lips trembled as she whispered, "T... Take it..." A wide, feral grin spread across my face as her words sent a surge of lust roaring through me. My hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly from the ground. She let out a small gasp of surprise, her hands clutching my shoulders as I carried her to the bed. "I love you, Atalanta," I murmured, my voice filled with a mixture of adoration and raw hunger as I tossed her gently onto the bed. "I... I think so too¡ªhmpfff!" she began, but I cut her off with a fierce kiss, silencing her with the intensity of my need. My hands roamed her body, gripping at the fabric that dared to conceal her beauty. With one swift movement, I tore it away, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room as her soft cry followed. "Hammff!" Her body reacted instantly, arching beneath me, her green eyes wide with shock and exhilaration as her bare skin was exposed to the cool air. "Haaaaan??!" Her moan was sweeter this time, tinged with surrender as I hooked her left leg over my shoulder, pushing her open wider. My hand trailed down to grip her sweat-slick thigh, holding her steady as I drove deeper into her, my hips slamming against her with rhythmic precision. "Yesssss?? Samaaael????...haaaaaan??! Haaaann??!" Atalanta''s cries became more desperate, the pain giving way to pure pleasure. Her voice rose with every thrust, her moans turning from hesitant to wanton as she arched beneath me. Her firm breasts bounced with each movement, the sight drawing a low growl from me. My hands moved instinctively, cupping and kneading her soft mounds, my thumbs flicking over her hardened nipples as I continued to pound into her. "Haaaaan??! Samael??, don''t stop??! Haaaaan??!" Atalanta''s voice broke into fragments of lust, her cries echoing through the room as her body trembled, overwhelmed by sensations she''d never felt before. Her pussy clenched around me, her body begging for more as I claimed her fully, the promise of her first orgasm building like a tidal wave within her. PAH! PAH! PAH! The wet, rhythmic sound of my thrusts filled the room, mingling with Atalanta''s increasingly desperate cries. Her pussy clung to me, every stroke dragging another moan from her lips as her body writhed beneath mine. "HAAAN! N-Nooooo! Haaaaaana!!" Her voice broke into fragments, her breath hitching, her back arching off the bed. She was teetering on the edge of her very first orgasm, her tight walls spasming around me as if begging for release. I groaned, the intensity of her untouched body nearly driving me insane. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of what we were doing, or the lingering sensations from Aphrodite''s earlier worship, but I felt my own climax building, unstoppable and fierce. Gripping her legs tighter, I pulled her closer, folding her body beneath me as I thrust harder, deeper. Each movement was deliberate, pushing past every inch of resistance until I felt myself hitting the deepest part of her¡ªthe entrance to her womb. "HAAAAAAAAGHNNNN??????!!" Atalanta''s scream was raw, guttural, and unrestrained, her entire body trembling violently beneath me as her orgasm crashed over her. Her walls clenched and pulsed around me, milking me for everything I had. "Ghnn!" I groaned, my grip tightening on her thighs as my body surrendered. A surge of heat rushed through me, my cock throbbing as I spilled myself deep inside her. Thick, hot spurt of cum filled her, marking her completely, claiming her in a way that was as primal as it was undeniable. Atalanta''s head tossed from side to side, her green eyes fluttering closed as she rode the waves of her first orgasm. Her cries softened into breathy, broken moans, her entire body consumed by the overwhelming rush of pleasure. Experience more content on empire My own climax seemed endless, my body trembling with each pulse of release. My breaths came ragged as I finally stilled, buried deep inside her, our bodies locked together in the aftermath. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to hers, capturing her soft, trembling mouth in one last deep kiss. She kissed me back lazily, her energy spent, her lips soft and pliant against mine. Finally, I pulled back and rolled onto the bed beside her, my chest heaving as I caught my breath. Atalanta lay sprawled next to me, her body slick with sweat, her face flushed and glowing. Her legs were still trembling faintly, her pussy dripping with both blood and cum. Chapter 276 Morning talk with Kassandra The morning light spilled gently through the windows of Nathan''s room, bathing it in a golden glow. The sun''s rays stretched lazily across the space, highlighting the intricate carvings on the wooden furniture and the faint wisps of steam rising from a distant brazier. The air was still, heavy with the silence of a camp in a rare moment of peace. Nathan stirred, the soft light playing against his black hair. His body, weary from the trials of the past days, seemed reluctant to wake, seeking solace in the warmth of the bed. The previous days had been a whirlwind of action and emotion, culminating in events that even now felt larger than life. His thunderous speech on the battlefield had resonated like the roll of distant thunder, shaking the resolve of both Greeks and Trojans. He had spoken with raw passion, unmasking his hatred for the Greeks, particularly Agamemnon and Menelaus. His words had spared no venom, calling out their hubris, their betrayal of family, and their sacrifice of innocents. Yet, his voice had also carried a note of unexpected compassion. He had extended his support to the Trojans, pledging allegiance to King Priam, and offered a rare acknowledgment of Greeks he deemed worthy¡ªHelen of Sparta and Clytemnestra, the latter of whom had suffered the unthinkable at the hands of Agamemnon. The battlefield had held its breath, and even the gods of Olympus had been silenced by his audacity. Among the Greek soldiers, some began to question their purpose in this war. Was their cause just? Was it worth the rivers of blood they had spilled? But those voices of doubt were drowned by the roar of men like Agamemnon, whose fury now burned hotter than ever. Heiron had climbed to the very top of Agamemnon''s list of enemies. It was no secret¡ªAgamemnon seethed with rage at the man who had stolen Briseis and possibly Astynome from him. And then came the battle that poets and bards would one day immortalize¡ªthe clash between Nathan and Heracles. It was a duel of legends, a thunderous collision of wills and power. The battlefield had stood still, every eye fixed on the two titans. Nathan''s victory was not merely a triumph of skill but a silencing of gods themselves. The murmurs of disbelief in Olympus were deafening.@@@@ Nathan had become a name etched in the annals of the Trojan War, a living legend feared and reviled by the Greeks. He had bested Jason, the son of Poseidon; Ajax the Great; and now Heracles himself. The Greeks'' fear of Heiron grew with each passing day, casting a shadow over their ranks. Yet, Nathan cared little for their opinions. To him, they were ants scurrying about, inconsequential in the grand scheme of his plans. With Heracles dead, a temporary truce had been agreed upon, granting both sides a rare reprieve from the ceaseless slaughter. For once, Nathan had allowed himself to rest, his body yielding to the exhaustion he had ignored for so long. As his hand reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed, he found only emptiness. He opened his eyes, the haze of sleep lifting slowly, and was met with the sight of rumpled sheets where another had once lain. It seemed Atalanta had slipped away early in the morning. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he remembered the night before. He had enjoyed their time together immensely. But her departure wasn''t unusual. The women who shared his bed often left before dawn to avoid prying eyes and unwanted attention. Astynome, Penthesilea, and even Charybdis, who couldn''t bear the confines of the castle, all followed the same pattern. The war demanded discretion, and so, more often than not, Nathan found himself waking alone. He lay back against the pillows, letting out a soft sigh. The fleeting moments of intimacy were a welcome distraction, but the solitude that followed only served as a reminder of the weight he carried. It was rare for Nathan to wake up alone in the morning, considering the many women who shared his company. Yet, this was his current reality. The bed was cold beside him, and the room was silent save for the faint rustle of curtains swaying in the morning breeze. Nathan sighed, his mind drifting to the growing list of burdens he carried. One, in particular, weighed heavily¡ªApollo. It had been nearly five months since the god had given him the ultimatum to find a solution for his deteriorating body. Yet there had been no word, no sign of the deity''s return. Each passing day brought him closer to the deadline, yet Apollo''s absence was a silence that gnawed at him. Shaking off the thought, Nathan rose from the bed and stepped into the shower. The cold water washed over him, invigorating his tired body and clearing the lingering fog of sleep. After dressing, he left his room and began his usual morning routine. The halls of the Trojan castle were alive with activity, yet they seemed to still in Nathan''s presence. Soldiers and nobles alike stopped to bow as he passed, their words a chorus of praise and admiration. They called him a hero, the savior of Troy, their unyielding shield against the Greeks. Nathan responded with nothing more than a curt nod, his stride unwavering. Such accolades were meaningless to him. Actions, not words, defined his worth. For weeks now, their conversations had been her solace. She had spoken to him more than she had to any other man¡ªor anyone, for that matter. And each exchange left her heart fluttering, a sensation that now returned as he sat beside her. But Paris''s cruel accusations still lingered in her mind, the echoes of his venomous words reverberating with every beat of her heart. Was she truly the harbinger of Troy''s destruction? And if so... what about Nathan? Was she doomed to bring ruin to him as well? "I''m just someone who brings misfortune to everyone," Kassandra murmured, her voice barely audible. She lowered her gaze, unable to meet Nathan''s eyes. "If something happened to you, Lord Heiron... it would be my fault. I might be the one responsible." Nathan studied her for a moment, his expression softening. He reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through Kassandra, and her eyes instinctively rose to meet his. "Kassandra," he said softly, his voice a calming balm to her frayed nerves. Without another word, he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips met hers in a tender kiss, a gesture so unexpected and yet so deeply comforting that it left her breathless. Kassandra''s entire body warmed, a heat that spread from her cheeks to her very core. She hadn''t anticipated this¡ªnot from him, not from anyone. Yet it felt so natural, so right. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she surrendered to the moment, letting herself be enveloped by the gentle passion of his kiss. When Nathan finally pulled away, his gaze lingered on her flushed face, her lips still parted in surprise. She looked at him, wide-eyed and trembling, as though the world had shifted beneath her feet. "After the war is over," Nathan began, his voice steady and resolute, "I will ask King Priam to give you to me as my reward for everything I''ve done in this war." Kassandra''s breath hitched, her lips quivering as the weight of his words sank in. "You... you would do that for me?" she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I will give you the happiness and love you''ve been denied all this time," Nathan assured her, his tone unwavering. "You deserve to be cherished, not feared. Just wait patiently for the war to end, and I will take you with me." Tears spilled freely down Kassandra''s cheeks, but this time, they weren''t tears of sorrow. A trembling smile broke across her face as she nodded, unable to form the words that swelled in her heart. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Kassandra felt a glimmer of hope. And it was all because of him. Chapter 277: Liphiel鈥檚 plan In stark contrast to the bustling life of the Trojan camps, the Greek encampment lay shrouded in an oppressive silence, a heavy gloom hanging over every corner. The air felt stifling, as though the loss they had suffered had stolen the very vitality from their souls. The once-proud warriors who filled the camp with laughter, shouts, and the clang of preparation now moved like shadows, burdened by grief. Their most recent battle had dealt them a blow that many feared might be insurmountable. Heracles¡ªone of their mightiest champions, a pillar of strength and honor¡ªwas no more. The weight of his death pressed down upon them like a boulder crushing fragile reeds. But Heracles had been more than just a warrior. To his comrades, he was a beacon of hope, an embodiment of everything noble in their cause. His courage was unparalleled, his kindness boundless, and his sense of honor unshakable. He had fought not just with unparalleled strength but also with an unyielding sense of justice. His death had torn a gaping hole in the hearts of those who had fought beside him, those who had shared in his laughter and sought his wisdom.@@@@ Many of the soldiers, hardened by years of bloodshed and death, now found their eyes stinging with tears they thought long buried. They whispered prayers of gratitude, at least finding solace in one thing¡ªHeracles had not been abandoned in his final moments. He had been carried away by the gods themselves, a sight both wondrous and heartbreaking. Yet, even the knowledge of his divine ascension could not fill the void he left behind. His absence was a wound that would not heal, a constant reminder of the toll this war exacted on them. Heracles had fallen to a single man, a name now spoken in hushed and fearful tones throughout the camp: Heiron. Heiron. The name was a curse on the lips of the Greeks, carrying the weight of despair and fury. He was the shadow that loomed over their once-great warriors, the man who had slain Ajax, Jason, and now Heracles. His growing legend was one of terror¡ªa phantom that haunted their dreams, his promises of doom resonating like a death knell. He had cursed Agamemnon himself, vowing the most horrifying deaths to all Greeks, and his words had taken root in their minds like a dark prophecy. Though they would never admit it aloud, many of the warriors harbored a secret fear of Heiron, this man who dared to challenge not only mortal armies but even the gods themselves. Heiron, who fought for the Trojans, seemed to defy all reason, his presence a stark contradiction to the natural order. They wondered with trepidation, Who is this man? Where did he come from? But one thing was indisputable: their king, Agamemnon, hated Heiron with a fervor that surpassed even his infamous disdain for Achilles¡ªa feat no one had thought possible. Agamemnon¡¯s hatred burned with the intensity of a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. Inside the Greek commander¡¯s tent, the atmosphere was tense. The space, once filled with the voices of their leaders debating strategies and victories, now felt desolate. Ajax. Jason. Diomedes. Heracles. Their names echoed like ghosts, a painful reminder of the seats now empty. Standing behind Agamemnon, Nestor sighed deeply, his weathered face etched with exhaustion and grief. The veteran warrior¡¯s voice was low and heavy as he broke the silence. "This war is taking far more than we ever anticipated..." Odysseus nodded grimly. "We must acknowledge a bitter truth¡ªwe underestimated the Trojans. Gravely so." Next to him, Chiron¡ªthe wise centaur¡ªstood in stoic silence, his ageless eyes filled with sorrow as he rested a hand on Asclepius¡¯ shoulder. The healer, though young, bore the burden of countless lives slipping through his fingers, and his face betrayed the weariness of a man carrying the weight of an army¡¯s pain. Find more adventures on empire ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã While Liphiel conferred with Agamemnon in the war council¡¯s tent, Patroclus made his way to Khillea¡¯s quarters, his steps heavy with despair. His heart felt as though it had been wrenched from his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the tragedy that had befallen their camp. The tent loomed before him, encased in an ethereal glow from the divine barrier that only he and Thetis, Khillea¡¯s mother, were permitted to cross. As he stepped inside, the somber air seemed to dissolve for a moment, replaced by an almost surreal sense of calm. The scene within was unlike the war-torn world outside. Khillea lay on a luxurious bed adorned with golden threads and silken fabrics that shimmered in the dim light. Her radiant beauty was undiminished, her smile serene as she hummed a soft melody. One hand gently rested on her swollen belly, which had grown significantly with her unborn child. She looked every bit the picture of divine grace, yet the contrast between her tranquility and the grief that burned within Patroclus was unbearable. His fists clenched as he took in the sight, his heart aching with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Heracles is dead, Khillea," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "You must know that... or have you already forgotten?" Khillea turned her gaze toward him, her calm demeanor unshaken. Her eyes, luminous and deep, studied him for a moment before she let out a soft sigh. "A pity, yes," she said finally, her voice as smooth as the melody she had been singing. "But Heracles was a warrior. He chose his own death. What do you expect me to do about it?" Patroclus¡¯s breath caught in his throat. The casual indifference in her tone cut through him like a blade. "So many Greeks are dying, suffering¡ªand yet you feel nothing?" he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his anguish. Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of the countless comrades he had tried, and failed, to save. Their pain and his own guilt had become an unbearable burden. Khillea¡¯s expression remained unmoved, her gaze sharp. "Why should I?" she asked coolly. "None of them came to my defense when Agamemnon dishonored me. They abandoned me when I needed them most. I owe them nothing. As far as I¡¯m concerned, unless Agamemnon crawls here on his knees to beg for my help, I have no reason to care." Her words stung, but Patroclus knew there was truth in them. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet her piercing eyes. Khillea sighed softly, her cousin¡¯s sorrow tugging at the edges of her heart. Rising carefully from her bed, she approached him, each movement deliberate and graceful despite her condition. Her hand reached up to cup his face, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Listen to me, Patroclus," she said, her voice softer now. "I will be leaving soon, to my mother¡¯s divine dimension. The time has come¡ªI will give birth soon, in the next weeks, and I cannot do so here. My mother¡¯s care is necessary for this moment. It might take a week or more." Patroclus¡¯s shoulders slumped further, though he nodded faintly. "I see... Be careful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. A faint smile graced Khillea¡¯s lips, a rare warmth softening her features. "Thank you, cousin." She stepped back slightly, her tone growing firm again. "While I am gone, I want you to take care of the Myrmidons in my absence. Protect them, guide them¡ªbut listen well, Patroclus. You are not to take part in the fighting. Do you understand me?" Her piercing gaze bore into him, leaving no room for argument. "I... won¡¯t," he said hesitantly, though his voice carried a hint of uncertainty. "Good," Khillea said, her smile returning, this time tinged with a maternal glow. She placed a hand over her belly, her voice softening. "When my child is born, I want her uncle to be there to hold her. She will need her family, just as I need you now." Chapter 278 Heras plan "Did you find anything about him?" Athena asked, her tone sharp yet measured, her piercing blue eyes fixed on Hera. The two goddesses stood in a secluded grove, far from prying eyes and ears, the air thick with tension. Sunlight filtered weakly through the dense canopy above, casting fragmented patterns of light and shadow around them. The weight of their conversation was evident, even in the silence that stretched between them. The subject of their concern was Heiron. "Yes," Hera finally responded, her voice edged with a grim certainty. "He is the Lord Commander of Tenebria." Her lips pressed into a thin line as she emphasized the title. "I am certain of it now." "The Hero of Darkness?" Athena''s eyes widened, her typically composed demeanor giving way to a rare flicker of shock. The name carried weight, even among gods. The Hero of Darkness, Samael, was no ordinary figure. Stories of his summoning by the Kingdom of Tenebria had spread like wildfire, shrouded in mystery and controversy. Until now, none of them knew which god had granted Tenebria the knowledge¡ªand the audacity¡ªto summon such a Hero. Athena''s mind raced as she pieced together what she knew. Samael had been pivotal in the battle against the Kingdom of Kastoria. Alone, he had faced the might of Kastoria''s Heroes, the champions chosen and blessed by none other than Amaterasu herself. Alone, he had defeated them, ending the conflict decisively and in Tenebria''s favor. "Yes," Hera confirmed, her voice laced with bitterness. "The one who humiliated Amaterasu''s Heroes." Her hands clenched tightly at her sides, her teeth grinding in frustration. Athena frowned, her expression thoughtful but troubled. "What is he doing here? This far from Tenebria?" She paused, her gaze narrowing. "This is an entirely different continent. Another world, even. This is Achaeenas¡ªour domain. Only the Greek Gods rule here." Her voice betrayed her confusion and growing unease. The presence of Samael in their realm was not only unusual but deeply troubling. Hera sighed, her frustration evident. "I don''t know. But I am certain of one thing¡ªAphrodite knows something." Her tone dripped with disdain. "That little bitch probably had a hand in this. I wouldn''t be surprised if she were the one who brought him here." Hera''s voice grew sharper, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. "For all we know, she might have been the one to summon him in the first place." Athena''s expression turned icy, her lips tightening as she considered Hera''s accusation. "Isn''t that a violation of our sacred laws?" she asked, her voice cold and cutting. Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire Hera laughed bitterly, a sound devoid of humor. "Since when has that bitch ever cared about rules?" she spat. "She thrives on chaos and manipulation. But it doesn''t matter. Zeus wouldn''t believe a word I say anymore." Athena''s eyes darkened. "Should I bring this to his attention?" she suggested, her voice firm. "If we expose Aphrodite, she''ll lose her influence. Without her protection, Samael will be vulnerable." Hera shook her head, her expression grim. "No. It''s not that simple." She gestured vaguely, frustration etched on her face. "Artemis and Ares are here, watching everything. And Apollo... I have no idea where that fool has wandered off to or what he''s doing." The mention of Apollo caused Athena''s brows to knit together. The Sun God abandoning his domain was no small matter. His absence from his city was unprecedented¡ªunthinkable, even¡ªunless it was for something directly tied to the Trojan War. Hera''s lips pressed into a thin line as she continued, her voice tinged with unease. "If Apollo''s disappearance has anything to do with Troy, it could mean trouble for all of us. But until we know for sure, we can''t risk acting prematurely." "What do you propose, then?" Athena asked, her voice sharp yet restrained, as she tightened her grip on her gleaming lance. The faint hum of divine energy surrounded her, a testament to her readiness for whatever scheme Hera was about to unveil. Hera smirked, her expression brimming with cold satisfaction as she produced a small vial from the folds of her flowing robes. The bottle was ornate, carved from crystalline glass, and filled with a shimmering pink liquid that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Athena''s eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What is that?" she demanded, her tone tinged with both curiosity and unease. Hera twirled the bottle delicately between her fingers, her smirk widening. "Something I procured from Ishtar," she explained, her voice dripping with condescension. "A potent elixir, capable of making even a god succumb to feelings he thought long buried. It can reignite love, even in the heart of a husband who has grown cold¡ªor unfaithful." She paused, her eyes glinting with malice. "It will work perfectly on a king desperate for affection... like the great Zeus himself." Athena''s eyes widened in shock, her usually composed demeanor giving way to disbelief. "You''re planning to use it on Father? Hera, if he learns of this¡ª" Forcing a serene smile to mask her frustration, Hera leaned a little closer, resting her hand lightly on Zeus''s arm. "You''re as unwavering as ever, my dear husband," she said softly, her voice dripping with honeyed affection. "It''s one of the things I admire most about you." "Peace and cohesion among us are vital, Hera," Zeus said, his voice heavy with conviction. "Not just for Olympus but for the pantheon as a whole. Even the gods of other realms look to us. Yet, there are greater threats looming¡ªthreats that even we should fear." His brows furrowed, a rare flicker of worry darkening his otherwise commanding visage. Whatever he was referring to seemed to weigh heavily on his mind, a danger so profound that even the King of the Gods appeared uneasy. Hera wanted to laugh. Greater threats? What could possibly threaten them? To her, the idea of a force powerful enough to endanger the gods of Olympus was absurd. She dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. If there was such a danger, surely they would have conquered it by now. This, it seemed, was the end of their discussion. Zeus would not bend, and Hera had no interest in indulging his mysterious premonitions any further. Suddenly, she stepped closer, her hand brushing against his arm. Before Zeus could question her intentions, Hera pressed against him, forcing him to the ground. "Hera?" Zeus''s eyes widened, startled by the unexpected aggression. Before he could rise, her lips captured his in a fierce kiss. The intoxicating power of Ishtar''s potion surged through him like fire and honey, clouding his mind and stirring emotions long dormant. A sharp snap echoed in his thoughts, as if something deep within him had fractured, and a wave of unrelenting desire crashed over him. But Zeus was no ordinary god¡ªhe was the King of Olympus, a force unmatched in willpower. Despite the potion''s potency, he resisted, his mind battling against the unnatural pull. "Hera..." he growled, his voice strained. Yet Hera knew her husband all too well. She had anticipated his resistance, even against the finest brew Ishtar could craft. A glimmer of cunning flashed in her eyes as she turned her gaze skyward. "Hypnos," she called softly. From above, a figure emerged, floating lazily on the air currents. Hypnos, the god of sleep, descended with a lethargic grace. He raised a hand, and an invisible force washed over Zeus. Sleep, irresistible even to the mightiest of gods, began to drag him under. The potion had weakened him just enough to make Hypnos''s power unstoppable. "No... don''t... Hera..." Zeus muttered, his words slurred as his eyelids grew impossibly heavy. With a final effort, he reached out toward her, but his strength failed, and his hand fell limp. Hera gently lowered her husband''s slumbering form to the ground, brushing a strand of white hair from his face. Then she straightened, her smile twisting into one of cold triumph. "Sleep well, my love," she murmured. She turned away, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the fate of Troy would soon be decided. "The downfall of the Trojans begins tomorrow." Chapter 279 Heiron Vs Sienna! The tide of war had shifted in ways Nathan could never have foreseen. At first, Heiron had been the primary target, enduring the relentless onslaught of Greek heroes. But now, the focus had changed. The Greeks, led by their unyielding determination, had turned their attention toward Hector, singling him out with an intensity that left Nathan uneasy. Even Chiron, once Hector''s mentor, now seemed consumed by an unrelenting desire to see his former student fall.@@@@ Heiron''s battlefront, however, was far from dormant. The heroes of the Light Empire had entered the fray, their radiant banners cutting through the chaos. Though Nathan didn''t recognize all of them, one figure stood out starkly amidst the throng¡ªSienna. She wasn''t alone; several of his classmates fought alongside her, their faces blurred in his memory, forgotten amidst the tides of time and conflict. It had been three grueling days since Nathan found himself locked in battle with Sienna. Three days of relentless combat that drained him more than he cared to admit. Sienna was no ordinary opponent; her movements were sharp, her attacks precise, and her resolve unshakable. Fighting her demanded Nathan''s full focus. He could no longer afford to hold back while ensuring his own safety. She was forcing him to walk a razor-thin line: to fight with everything he had while ensuring he didn''t cause her grievous harm. The thought of seriously injuring her gnawed at him, but every passing moment made it clear¡ªif he didn''t take her seriously, she might very well be the one to end him. "How did it come to this?" The question haunted Nathan as he parried yet another strike from her relentless assault. The joy he had briefly felt at not having to face any of the women he cared for had been dashed the moment Sienna had appeared on the battlefield. Her presence had turned what was already a grueling war into a personal torment. But Sienna''s sudden emergence wasn''t the worst of it. Liphiel. She had arrived too. The battlefield buzzed with the presence of the Divine Knight, her commanding aura palpable even from a distance. Until now, Liphiel had remained in the shadows, her hand unseen and her involvement minimal. But her sudden appearance sent a cold shiver down Nathan''s spine. Nathan''s mind raced as he dodged another strike from Sienna. The pieces were falling into place, albeit in the most dangerous way possible. He quickly deduced that Liphiel was behind Sienna''s deployment against him. But the burning question remained: had she discovered his true identity? If she knew he was Nathan, it would explain why she had sent Sienna to eliminate him. It was the easiest way knowing I couldn''t kill her. But the implications of her discovery were terrifying. If Liphiel had pieced it together, then he was in mortal peril¡ªnot just from her, but from the entire cadre of Divine Knights who would undoubtedly be summoned to finish the job. Nathan wasn''t ready. Not yet. Nathan gritted his teeth as he deflected Sienna''s blade, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. He needed more time¡ªtime to strengthen himself, time to prepare for the inevitable confrontation with the Divine Knights. But most of all, he needed to protect the people he cared about. His sisters, his women, and now, his children. Amelia had just given birth, and Aisha was carrying a child as well. The weight of their safety pressed heavily on his shoulders, making failure an unacceptable option. There was only one solution. Nathan''s expression darkened, his thoughts colder than ice. "I need to kill Liphiel." The words echoed in his mind like a death knell. It was the only way to ensure his survival and protect those he loved. Liphiel couldn''t be allowed to leave this battlefield alive. If she returned to the Empire of Light, she would tell and inform the high ranks Divine Knights whose power dwarfed even hers. "What do you want?" Nathan demanded, his voice steady despite the rapid clash of blades. He parried Sienna''s strike, his movements precise but increasingly strained. She had grown stronger¡ªfar stronger than he had anticipated. The fluidity of her movements, the sheer power behind her swings, and the speed at which she attacked left him momentarily stunned. It wasn''t just physical strength; there was a refinement in her technique that bordered on perfection. Jason, with his vaunted SSS-ranked main skill, was nowhere near her level. Nathan couldn''t help but compare. Among all the people who had been brought to this world alongside him, Sienna had clearly surpassed them all. That smile. That cursed, mocking smile. Nathan tightened his grip on his sword, his knuckles turning white. He would carve it off her face. But suddenly, Nathan felt it¡ªa presence closing in behind him like a storm on the horizon. Sienna. She was moving at an extraordinary speed, her approach so swift and fluid that it was almost as if she were slicing through the very air itself. It wasn''t just speed, though; it was precision, a deadly grace. For a brief moment, he thought he had miscalculated. Surely, even in his weakened state, there was no way Sienna could move this fast. Yet here she was, faster than him now¡ªfaster than he had ever seen her before. Experience exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. Athena. The rumors whispered about Sienna being Athena''s favorite suddenly didn''t seem so far-fetched. If the goddess had truly blessed her, then her newfound strength and speed made sense. Nathan barely had time to react. Sienna leapt into the air, closing the remaining distance between them in a heartbeat. Her blade gleamed under the harsh sunlight, a streak of silver aimed directly at him. With a growl, Nathan twisted his body and swung his sword in a powerful arc. The force of his strike met hers midair, the clash of metal ringing out like a thunderclap. The impact sent Sienna hurtling backward, her feet skidding across the ground as she fought to regain her balance. But she didn''t stay down for long. Within seconds, she was on her feet again, her movements as fluid as a predator''s. Her blade began to glow, the intensity of the mana radiating from it so overwhelming that the air around her seemed to shimmer. Nathan''s eyes narrowed. He didn''t have time for this. "Fuck this," he growled under his breath, his frustration spilling over as Sienna charged at him once more. BADOOOOM!!! The ground trembled beneath them as their swords collided again, the sheer force of their clash sending shockwaves rippling outward. Sparks flew like fireworks, illuminating the battlefield for a brief, blinding moment. Sienna''s eyes locked onto his coldly. Nathan met her gaze with equal intensity. Then, as their weapons pressed against each other, Nathan did something unexpected. "Your brother is alive." Chapter 280: Hunting Liphiel Sienna¡¯s eyes locked onto his coldly. Nathan met her gaze with equal intensity. Then, as their weapons pressed against each other, Nathan did something unexpected. "Your brother is alive." The impact was immediate. Sienna¡¯s defiance shattered like fragile glass. Her eyes widened in shock, and her breath hitched audibly. For a moment, her entire body froze, not by magic but by sheer disbelief. Her lips parted, trembling as though trying to form words, yet her voice faltered. "What...?" she managed to whisper, the single word laced with both hope and agony. Nathan offered no further explanation. Before she could say anything more, he raised his hand, and a glacial frost enveloped her. Sienna¡¯s body became encased in ice, her expression of disbelief and vulnerability preserved within the crystalline prison. "Sister!" Siara¡¯s desperate cry echoed through the battlefield as she charged toward Sienna without hesitation. Her voice was raw with fear, and her movements reckless, driven by the need to protect her sister. Courtney wasn¡¯t far behind, her face pale with panic. Nathan could see the alarm in her eyes, a fear that he might shatter Sienna¡¯s frozen form just as he had done to so many others before. But Nathan had no intention of harming his sister further. His actions, though harsh, were calculated. Without a word, he turned and bolted past them, leaving Siara and Courtney to tend to Sienna. His focus shifted entirely to Liphiel. She stood some distance away, her smile as infuriatingly smug as ever. The sight of her fanned the flames of Nathan¡¯s fury, though his expression remained as icy as his magic. She had crossed a line¡ªa line that no one should dare approach. Using Sienna, his sister, as a pawn in her schemes was an unforgivable act. And if she dared to stoop so low, what else was she willing to do? Nathan¡¯s resolve hardened. She needed to die. But she wasn¡¯t going to make it easy. As if on cue, countless Greek soldiers swarmed toward him, their armor clanging as they formed a wall of resistance. Nathan¡¯s lips curled into a cold sneer. He raised his sword, its icy edge glinting ominously in the light. With one fluid slash, a wave of frost surged forward, freezing the soldiers in an instant. Another swing shattered their frozen forms into a flurry of glimmering shards, their cries silenced forever. Nathan moved with precision and speed, leaping over obstacles and dodging attacks with an almost inhuman grace. Each step brought him closer to Liphiel, and each swing of his blade left destruction in his wake. "You¡¯re not going anywhere!" A thunderous voice rang out, and Nathan¡¯s path was suddenly blocked. He halted, his gaze narrowing as he recognized the figure standing before him. It was Aidan. Aidan¡¯s confident smirk was like a spark to Nathan¡¯s simmering anger. His eyes turned colder, a frost forming around him as he clenched his weapon tighter. Without hesitation, Nathan moved. In an instant, he appeared before Aidan, his blade descending with lethal precision. The ground shook as the force of the blow sent Aidan hurtling backward, a shockwave rippling through the battlefield. But to Nathan¡¯s surprise, Aidan¡¯s weapon remained intact, its surface unmarred despite the overwhelming strength of the strike. "Gahaha! This strength! Thank you, Poseidon!" Aidan bellowed, his laughter echoing as he steadied himself. Nathan¡¯s eyes darted upward, catching sight of Poseidon observing the battlefield with a triumphant smirk. The god¡¯s presence was unmistakable, his aura suffocatingly divine. How? Nathan¡¯s thoughts raced. Didn¡¯t Zeus forbid their intervention? Gritting his teeth, Nathan pushed forward, unwilling to waste time on questions. Liphiel was still within his reach, and he couldn¡¯t let her escape. He surged ahead, his speed blurring his movements. "You¡¯re running away now?!" Aidan¡¯s voice boomed as he reappeared in front of Nathan, his sword raised for an attack. But Nathan¡¯s fury was unrelenting. In a split second, his magic surged. Aidan¡¯s right arm and leg were engulfed in frost, the ice spreading with merciless efficiency. A sickening crack followed as the frozen limbs shattered into countless fragments. "GARHHH??!" Aidan¡¯s voice was a mix of shock and terror as he stared at his ruined body. Nathan didn¡¯t spare him a glance. He moved past him, his focus singular. Liphiel was still smiling, but Nathan could sense her slight unease. But if the gods intervened, it would be too late to strike her down. Liphiel¡¯s gaze faltered as Nathan advanced, his presence radiating an oppressive aura that made her retreat, step by reluctant step. Her heart raced, and for the first time in ages, she felt a genuine pang of fear. His eyes burned with cold determination, and the carnage he left in his wake was staggering. To Nathan, the Greeks might as well have been insects. They weren¡¯t even worth calling meat shields anymore. With each swing of his blade, ten fell, their bodies crumpling to the blood-soaked ground like discarded dolls. He carved through their ranks with terrifying efficiency, his path to Liphiel clear and relentless. Realizing she couldn¡¯t hold him off much longer, Liphiel raised her staff. An ominous glow pulsed from its tip, and the air grew heavy with magic. In an instant, three colossal figures materialized before her, their towering forms casting long, menacing shadows over the battlefield. Nathan approached the immobilized creature, his sword gleaming coldly in the pale light. He raised his gaze, locking eyes with the giant¡¯s massive face, where the energy beam continued to gather clumsily. "Now," Nathan said, his voice cold and steady, "it¡¯s your turn to see me kill you." Without hesitation, he plunged his sword deep into the giant¡¯s gaping maw, twisting it violently as frost surged through the blade. BADAAAAAM! The giant¡¯s head erupted in an explosion of red and shimmering ice. Sparkles of frozen blood and shattered frost rained down around Nathan, painting the battlefield with a grotesque, glittering beauty. But as the last shards of the giant¡¯s head scattered, Nathan¡¯s sword cracked and splintered under the strain. It broke apart in his hands, the pieces falling to the ground with a dull clang. Nathan frowned, tossing the useless hilt aside. "It wasn¡¯t a good sword anyway," he muttered. His eyes shifted toward Liphiel, who stood frozen in the distance. Yet, to his surprise, her lips curved into a smirk. Her gaze wasn¡¯t on him but something¡ªor someone¡ªbehind him. A sudden chill ran down Nathan¡¯s spine as he turned instinctively, raising his arm to block. "Sienna..." There she was, her eyes void of recognition, her sword already swinging toward him. BADAAAAAM! The impact sent a shockwave through Nathan¡¯s body. He groaned in pain as her blade collided with his arm, its force amplified by divine blessing. His ice armor absorbed some of the blow, but not enough. The blade sliced through, cutting deep into his flesh. Blood seeped from the wound, staining his arm as he tried to steady himself. "Sienna..." he groaned, his voice strained. He wanted to say more, to reach out to her, but his words died in his throat. Suddenly, his entire body froze. He couldn¡¯t move. A paralyzing force gripped him, locking him in place. His gaze darted upward, where Hera hovered above, her smirk radiating triumph. She had intervened blatantly, her divine aura making it clear she cared little for subtlety. Explore more stories at novelhall.Co?m Before Nathan could process what was happening, a flurry of motion erupted around him. Aphrodite soared toward him, her expression frantic as she raced to help, but Athena intercepted her mid-flight, blocking her path with a cold glare. Ares surged forward, his war cry echoing across the battlefield, but Poseidon appeared in his way, his trident shimmering with power. Artemis, perched atop the Trojan walls, had her bow drawn, an arrow of light aimed precisely at Hera so Nathan could get out of the frozen state. But even she couldn¡¯t act fast enough. BADAAAAAAM! A beam of light, blinding and merciless, tore through the battlefield. Nathan felt the searing pain before he even registered what had happened. The light struck him square in the back, ripping through his body with devastating force. It burned through his stomach, leaving a gaping wound that bled profusely. But he wasn¡¯t the only victim. Behind him, Sienna gasped, her eyes wide with shock. The same beam had pierced her chest, tearing through her with equal brutality. Blood bubbled from her lips as she coughed, her body trembling violently. Nathan staggered, his arms instinctively reaching out to catch her as she collapsed forward. Her weight fell against him, her blood soaking his already torn clothes. "Sienna..." he whispered hoarsely, his vision blurring as he struggled to hold her upright. In the distance, Agamemnon stood, his face twisted into a maddened grin. His sword, still glowing with the remnants of Hera¡¯s blessing, radiated heat as he watched the chaos he had unleashed. Chapter 281 Heirons revenge! Nathan staggered, his arms instinctively reaching out to catch her as she collapsed forward. Her weight fell against him, her blood soaking his already torn clothes. "Sienna..." he whispered hoarsely, his vision blurring as he struggled to hold her upright. In the distance, Agamemnon stood, his face twisted into a maddened grin. His sword, still glowing with the remnants of Hera''s blessing, radiated heat as he watched the chaos he had unleashed. The battlefield was silent for a moment, the aftermath of the attack leaving both allies and enemies in stunned disbelief. Nathan''s grip tightened around Sienna''s lifeless form, his teeth gritted against the pain and rage building within him. "Sienna, look at me..." Nathan''s voice, hoarse and strained, barely carried over the battlefield''s chaos. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips as he coughed violently, the gaping hole in his stomach stealing away what little strength he had left. Despite the pain that threatened to pull him into unconsciousness, his trembling hands reached for Sienna''s lifeless form. Her head lolled weakly against his chest, and her once-brilliant blue eyes were glazed over, unfocused. "Please, Sienna..." His voice cracked, his words trembling with desperation. "It''s me... Nathan... Please wake up..." But there was no response. Her body was unnervingly still, her breaths shallow, if they existed at all. Nathan''s heart clenched. No, it couldn''t be her. Not Sienna. Among his siblings, Sienna was the one who had always stood by him. She had never belittled him, never spat cruel words in his direction like others had. While she wasn''t outgoing or sociable, she had shown him a quiet, steadfast love, always doing her best to ease his burdens. Her kindness had been a light in the oppressive darkness of his life. His mind reeled as the horrifying reality began to set in. Sienna, the sister he cherished most, was slipping away. Meanwhile, the Gods of Troy stood frozen, their divine forms exuding shock and disbelief. Aphrodite clutched her chest, her face pale with worry. Ares glared at the scene, his hands balled into fists, a fire of rage simmering in his eyes. Artemis, ever stoic, had an arrow nocked and drawn, her gaze narrowing at Hera, Athena, and Poseidon. None of them had anticipated this. Hera, Athena, and Poseidon had gone against Zeus''s explicit orders to protect Nathan. It was a calculated and treacherous move, one made possible by Hera''s deception. She had kept the truth of Zeus''s slumber hidden, ensuring no one would question her actions until it was too late. Now, the battlefield was steeped in their betrayal, and Nathan was on the brink of death. Nathan''s trembling hand rested against Sienna''s cheek, but her blue eyes had already fluttered closed. Her breathing slowed to almost nothing, her skin growing unnervingly pale. "No..." he whispered, his voice breaking. His destination was clear: Liphiel. The moment her eyes caught sight of his approach, Liphiel''s composed demeanor shattered. Her expression twisted into one of sheer terror, her fear written plainly across her face. In a frantic attempt to defend herself, she raised her staff, her hands trembling as she summoned every ounce of her divine power. "Celestial Magic! Kill this evil being! Spear of the God of Light!" she cried, her voice tinged with desperation. A radiant spear materialized in her grasp, its golden glow pulsating with celestial energy. The spear''s brilliance was blinding, a weapon forged to combat the vilest darkness, designed to counter the power wielded by the previous Demon King himself. But Nathan did not falter. Your journey continues at My Virtual Library Empire He surged toward her with unwavering resolve, his dark aura crackling ominously. The spear, with its divine brilliance, launched toward him, ripping through the air with a deafening BADAAAAM! Its light was so intense that it forced even those far away to shield their eyes. The spear radiated a purity so potent it seemed to consume darkness itself. Yet Nathan remained undeterred. With a sharp motion, he drew his weapon¡ªa blade as dark as the abyss, imbued with the essence of the Demon King. As the spear neared, Nathan swung his sword down in a single, decisive strike. BADOOOOOM! The clash of powers unleashed a cataclysmic explosion, the resulting shockwave rippling across the battlefield. The celestial spear splintered into two, its fragments disintegrating into nothingness. Liphiel froze, her expression one of absolute disbelief. Her mouth fell open, her wide eyes reflecting the impossible reality before her. She barely had time to react before Nathan appeared in front of her, his hand lashing out like a viper. He seized her throat in an iron grip. "Gaaah!" Liphiel choked, her voice rasping as her glasses shattered and fell away. Nathan slammed her into the ground with enough force to crack the earth beneath her. He loomed over her, his golden, demonic eyes glowing like twin suns in the darkness. His voice was low, venomous, and laced with malice. "I finally got you, little bitch," he spat, his tone devoid of any warmth. Liphiel gasped for air, her voice a strained whisper. "Y...you''re him... Nathan," she managed, her words barely audible. Nathan''s grip tightened mercilessly around her throat, cutting off her air entirely. "I told you, Liphiel at that time," he said, his voice as cold as death itself. "Killing me would come with consequences." Liphiel clawed at his hand, her struggles futile against his overwhelming strength. Without waiting for her to respond, Nathan summoned his magic. Darkness coiled around his form, and with a flick of his hand, flames erupted. The fire, born of his wrath and enhanced by his dark magic, ignited Liphiel''s body. Chapter 282 Heirons death Nathan''s grip tightened mercilessly around her throat, cutting off her air entirely. "I told you, Liphiel," he said, his voice as cold as death itself. "Killing me would come with consequences." Liphiel clawed at his hand, her struggles futile against his overwhelming strength. Without waiting for her to respond, Nathan summoned his magic. Darkness coiled around his form, and with a flick of his hand, flames erupted. The fire, born of his wrath and enhanced by his dark magic, ignited Liphiel''s body. "GAAAHYAAAAA!!!"@@@@ Liphiel''s scream tore through the battlefield, a sound so visceral and harrowing that it silenced everything else. Both Greeks and Trojans flinched, their weapons faltering mid-swing as the piercing cry reverberated across the blood-soaked plains. Even the Olympian gods, seated high on their celestial thrones, turned their attention to the mortal plane. They watched, their divine faces etched with shock and disbelief, as Nathan exacted his ruthless vengeance upon Liphiel. The flames devouring her body burned with a cruel slowness, fueled by Nathan''s dark magic and his unrelenting fury. He stood over her, motionless but seething, his golden demonic eyes glowing with satisfaction. He seemed to savor her agony, each anguished cry a testament to his triumph. One by one, those who surrounded him¡ªthe soldiers, the warriors, the so-called gods¡ªtook hesitant steps backward. Fear gripped their hearts like a vice. Even in the face of death, Nathan was terrifying. His very presence exuded an aura that made even gods reconsider their strength. The screams continued until, finally, Liphiel''s body gave in. The flames consumed her entirely, reducing her to nothing but a pile of ash. Silence fell over the battlefield, broken only by the faint crackle of lingering embers. Nathan stood still, his body rigid as if carved from stone. He watched the ash scatter into the wind, but there was no triumph in his expression now. A strange stillness overtook him. Then, without warning, cracks began to appear across his own body. Small at first, they spread like spiderwebs, fragments of ash breaking off and drifting into the darkened air. This was it. The end. He knew it wasn''t yet five months since the seal had begun taking its toll, but Nathan had pushed far beyond the limits of his mortal frame. He had wrung every ounce of strength from his body, his soul, just to make it this far. After all he had endured¡ªthe wars, the betrayals, the pain¡ªit was a miracle he had survived as long as he had. But miracles had their price. The deal he made to enslave Khione had shortened his lifespan irreparably. That sacrifice, though, was one he would never regret. Not for a moment. Khione would always be his. That truth was enough for him to meet his fate without bitterness. Yet, a pang of sorrow twisted in his chest. She would die with him. The seal made certain of that. When the slaver perished, the slaves followed. This, perhaps, was his greatest failure. He wanted to release her. He had wished to set her free before his time ran out, but now his body betrayed him. Everything within him felt paralyzed, locked away by the encroaching darkness. And yet, even in this state, there was a final desire clawing at his heart. He wanted to see Khione one last time. His plans to save her¡ªby killing Poseidon¡ªhad ended here. Poseidon remained alive, a loathsome stain upon the world. But at least, Nathan thought grimly, that wretched god would never lay a hand on Khione. He had ensured that much. Still, Nathan''s list of unfinished business weighed heavily on him. Poseidon. Agamemnon. Those two names burned in his mind like. He had wanted to end them both, to rid the world of their cruelty and arrogance. Now, that task would fall to others. For Agamemnon, he could only hope Hector would carry the burden. And then there were Medea, Scylla, and Charybdis. Charybdis wasn''t here today. He had sent her back to keep an eye on Medea and Scylla, ensuring they behaved in his absence. It was a decision he didn''t regret. If Charybdis had witnessed this scene, there was no telling the destruction she might have unleashed. She was a tempest waiting to break free, and her rage would have known no bounds. But was it too late already? Nathan''s heart sank as the truth dawned on him. Without him, Medea, Scylla, and Charybdis would descend into chaos. He had been their anchor, the only force restraining their fury. Without that, the world would see their true devastation. He could only hope that the inevitable rampage of Medea, Scylla, and Charybdis would spare the women he cared about. Normally, it shouldn''t. Nathan had been meticulous in instructing the trio on who was untouchable, and they had always adhered to his directives. Aisha would break. She would grieve for him, he knew. But at least she would have her child¡ªa fragment of him¡ªto hold onto. Sienna, fortunately, would heal. Athena would see to that, he was certain. His thoughts drifted next to Ayaka and Akane. He had promised to visit them after the war. He had envisioned the smiles they would exchange, the warmth of their company. But now that promise, too, was dust. And Rena. Nathan''s chest tightened. He had wanted to see her again, just as she had made it clear she wished to see him. But that reunion would never happen. Then there was Phoebe. A whisper of her name stirred a flurry of emotions. If she was in this world as well, Nathan wished he could understand why she had left him. Her parting words still echoed in his memory, cold and unfeeling. Yet he had seen her tears. She had cried, even as her voice carried the weight of rejection. He would never know the truth now. Nathan''s body continued to disintegrate, pieces of ash carried away on the wind. Each name, each face he remembered, was another thread in the tapestry of regret that bound his soul. But even as the darkness consumed him, one thought lingered: He had loved them all. And in the end, that love would have to be enough. At last, his gaze shifted, almost involuntarily, toward Hera. The goddess had wanted this¡ªhis death. She had made her disdain for him clear from the very beginning, her divine wrath simmering beneath a veneer of indifference. But now... Nathan''s eyes locked onto hers, his expression a mixture of resignation and defiance. The question lingered in his golden gaze, unspoken but piercing. "Are you happy right now?" It was a silent accusation, a final inquiry into whether her orchestrations had brought her the satisfaction she sought. Yet, Hera''s face betrayed her. For the first time, her divine composure faltered. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze flickering with a discomfort she couldn''t quite suppress. It was as if she was wrestling with something¡ªa burgeoning regret, an unsettling realization that this victory might taste bitter after all. Nathan let out a soft, mirthless chuckle, though no sound escaped his lips. How ironic. Finally, his gaze turned upward, toward the heavens. The once-vivid gold of his demonic eyes began to fade, consumed by the encroaching ash. The sky stretched out above him, vast and indifferent. As his face began to dissolve into nothingness, a faint smile curled at the corners of his lips. In the end, Nathan thought, he had no regrets for what he had loved, for what he had fought for. If the gods wished to write their stories on the canvas of his life, let them. He had lived his truth, and that was enough. And then, he was gone. Heiron was dead. Chapter 283 Nathans memories (1) A woman was there. A strikingly beautiful young woman, lying on a bed, her frail body leaning against the headboard for support. Her pallor betrayed a sickened countenance, her breath labored and shallow. Each cough wracked her fragile frame, a fresh crimson stain blooming on the handkerchief she clutched. Yet, through the pain, she managed to keep a soft, loving smile as she extended a trembling hand toward a boy standing hesitantly at the entrance of the room. Her voice, though weak, carried warmth. "Who is this?" Nathan, who had been silently observing the tender yet sorrowful scene, turned at the sound of the voice. His gaze shifted to another figure standing behind him. She was unlike anyone he had ever seen. This woman, who had appeared out of nowhere, was breathtaking in a way that defied mortal comprehension. Her beauty surpassed that of every goddess, even Aphrodite herself. Her long, silken black hair cascaded down her back like an endless river of shadow. Her eyes, deep pools of midnight, bore no emotion¡ªneither sorrow nor joy¡ªonly an unnerving stillness as they locked onto Nathan. Her presence demanded attention, yet she exuded an air of otherworldly detachment, as if she were both part of the world and entirely removed from it. Nathan tore his eyes away from her, his heart heavy, and turned back toward the boy who had rushed into the room. The boy had flung himself into the arms of the sick woman, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. Her fragile arms encircled him in a weak but loving embrace. She held him as though he were her entire world, her reason to endure. "It''s me," Nathan whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion. He watched the scene unfold, his heart twisting painfully. The boy crying in his mother''s embrace was him¡ªa memory etched deeply into his soul. Nathan would never forget those last, precious days he had spent with his mother before her untimely death. "Why did she die?" the mysterious woman asked, her voice calm and unyielding, as if the answer were merely a piece of a puzzle she sought to understand. "I don''t know," Nathan replied, his eyes fixated on his mother''s gentle smile in the memory. But as he spoke, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. No, that wasn''t true. Deep down, he might have known why. He had always suspected. And he knew his father had never forgiven him for it. "After I was born, her health only worsened," Nathan admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The words carried a heavy weight, like a confession he had long buried within himself. "I''ve always blamed myself for that... more than my father ever did." "Was it truly your fault?" the woman asked, her tone devoid of judgment, yet piercing. Nathan let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "If I hadn''t been born, she would still be alive... healthy, happy," he replied. "It was my birth that condemned her." The woman''s gaze remained fixed on him for a long moment before she turned her attention back to the memory, which shifted like a reflection in rippling water. The room faded, replaced by another scene. It was brighter now, warmer¡ªa memory from months before Nathan''s birth. "She must have been your first love," came the calm, measured voice of the dark-haired woman who had been silently observing with him. "She was," Nathan replied, his tone bittersweet, the past tense deliberate and weighted. Phoebe had been his first love, a beacon of hope in the darkness that followed his mother''s death. He had loved her fiercely, with every fiber of his being, second only to his mother. But she had left him, just as his mother had. The difference was that Phoebe had chosen to leave. Her absence had marked the beginning of something else. Something darker. The scene shifted once more, now to a memory that Nathan wished he could forget. BADAM! The sound of a fist striking flesh reverberated through the air. Nathan, barely five years old, was sent sprawling to the ground, his small frame crumpling under the force of the blow. He gasped for breath, clutching his cheek as tears welled in his eyes. "Stand." His father''s voice cut through the air like a blade. It was sharp, commanding, and devoid of compassion. Nathan struggled to push himself up, his tiny arms trembling under the effort. His legs wobbled as he tried to rise, but they buckled beneath him, and he collapsed back onto the ground. "I said stand!" his father barked, his tone growing colder, harsher. "Are you going to shame the life your mother gave you?" The words struck Nathan harder than any blow could. Gritting his teeth, he forced his battered body to rise, swaying on unsteady legs but refusing to fall again. "Attack me now," his father commanded. Nathan clenched his fists, his small fingers curling into trembling balls. With a cry of determination, he rushed forward, aiming for his father with all the strength his tiny body could muster. BADAAAAM! This time, a powerful kick landed squarely in Nathan''s stomach, sending him flying backward. He crashed into the wall with a sickening thud, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his stomach, gasping in pain. Discover exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire "Pathetic," his father growled, his voice filled with disdain. "Your mother didn''t sacrifice her life for such a weak, useless boy." Those words might have been the spark¡ªthe trigger that ignited something deep within Nathan. "Your mother didn''t sacrifice her life for such a weak, useless boy." Since then, Nathan had trained relentlessly, pouring every ounce of his being into meeting his father''s expectations. It wasn''t just about intelligence or strategy; his father''s focus was strength¡ªboth physical and mental. "Only the strong survive," his father would often say, his voice devoid of warmth. "And the only thing that weakens a man is a woman." Chapter 284 Nathans memories (2) "Only the strong survive," his father would often say, his voice devoid of warmth. "And the only thing that weakens a man is a woman." It became a mantra that Nathan absorbed without question. Over time, he hardened his heart, suppressing his feelings and viewing women not as individuals but as trophies¡ªornaments to enhance his life, objects to make it more enjoyable. This belief became a cornerstone of his identity, shielding him from emotional vulnerability. It might have stayed that way if he hadn''t met Ayaka, Akane, and their mother. Their mother was unlike anyone Nathan had known. She was a kind, compassionate woman whose warmth seemed to seep into even the coldest corners of his heart. For a time, she brought a flicker of light into his otherwise dark and rigid world. But that light was fleeting. When she died suddenly, Nathan was only ten. The loss shattered Ayaka and Akane, leaving them broken and inconsolable. For Nathan, however, loss had begun to lose its meaning. It wasn''t that he didn''t feel; it was that he couldn''t allow himself to feel. The pain was too familiar, too expected. His stoic reaction to her death had a chilling effect on Ayaka and Akane, driving an emotional wedge between them. Eventually, the twins returned to Japan, leaving Nathan alone once more. The scene shifted again. This time, an eleven-year-old Nathan appeared, his expression colder, his presence heavier. He stood inside a training room, the walls adorned with weapons, equipment, and the faint echoes of countless hours spent honing his skills. Across the room, his father sat at a large oak desk, pen in hand, working through a stack of papers. Nathan''s small frame was battered¡ªbruises darkened his cheeks, and dried blood clung stubbornly to his chin. Find your next read at My Virtual Library Empire "You fought again," his father said, his voice even but laced with disapproval. Nathan remained silent, his gaze fixed ahead. "Answer me," his father demanded, the coldness in his tone sharpening. "I did," Nathan eventually admitted, his voice calm and controlled. "Why?" "They insulted me," Nathan replied, his voice steady, though his fists clenched slightly at his sides. His father paused, setting down his pen and lifting his gaze to meet Nathan''s. The weight of his father''s disappointment was palpable, but Nathan didn''t flinch. "The strength I am teaching you," his father began, his voice cutting through the tension, "is not for petty vengeance over mere insults. Those brats shouldn''t even be worthy of your breath." Nathan''s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. "Maybe," he said after a moment. "Maybe?" His father''s eyes narrowed, his tone darkening with irritation. "They insulted Mother," Nathan retorted, his voice firm yet emotionless. Nathan''s mind flashed back to that day. The three of them had finished school, but instead of heading home, Pablo had suggested they visit the mall. Nathan had reluctantly agreed, watching as the twins, perfect in every way, led the way with their effortless charisma. He could see it clearly now: Cristina''s radiant smile as she glanced at him over her shoulder, Pablo''s easy confidence as he teased his sister. Yet beneath their charm, Nathan felt only a cold, hollow sense of betrayal. It was because of them¡ªCristina and Pablo¡ªthat he had become the person he was. By the time Sienna and Siara entered his life, he was already hollow inside, smiling on the outside while harboring a festering mass of malice within. His hatred for women, his inability to trust, and the malice he carried like a weapon¡ªhe traced it all back to them. To the twins who had once been his family, but who had left scars that cut deeper than any blade ever could. Nathan stood in silence, watching the fragmented memory unfold before him like an old film reel, grainy yet vivid. His younger self was there, smaller and less hardened, yet his eyes already carried a weight that no child should bear. "My father..." Nathan began, his voice low and edged with bitterness, "...despite being wealthy¡ªwealthy enough to send me to the best private schools in the country¡ªhe deliberately enrolled me in one of the worst high schools in America. He never explained why, and I never asked. But I knew. Deep down, I understood." He paused, his gaze fixed on the ghostly figures of his younger self and Cristina, her teasing smile cutting through the haze of memory like a blade. "He wanted to train me," Nathan continued, his tone colder now. "To teach me how to bury every emotion, every weakness, and gain control over myself. It wasn''t about education or opportunity¡ªit was about survival. After that, he''d place me beside my so-called genius step-siblings. Ayaka and Akane. Cristina and Pablo. Sienna and Siara. All perfect in their own way. All a stark reminder of what I wasn''t." Nathan''s expression hardened, yet a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his gaze lingered on Cristina''s radiant face in the memory. "Why did he do this to you?" the dark-haired woman beside him asked, her voice soft yet laced with a sinister curiosity. Nathan didn''t turn to her. His focus remained locked on the scene before him, his eyes shadowed with something unreadable. "Who knows," he said with a hollow chuckle. "Maybe he wanted to humiliate me. Maybe he wanted to drive home how different I was from them. Or maybe it was all some experiment¡ªto see how I''d react to being thrust into a family of prodigies." The words spilled out with an air of indifference, but even Nathan wasn''t convinced. He didn''t truly know his father. Not the man behind the mask of wealth and authority. "And what happened with them?" the woman asked, her voice a whisper that slid into his ear like the hiss of a serpent. Her dark, twisted expression betrayed her true intent¡ªshe already knew the answer. She simply wanted to hear it from him. Nathan''s eyes lingered on Cristina as she laughed, her voice carrying the carefree charm of someone untouched by the harshness of reality. He could see her in the memory, smiling at him, teasing him as she often did. "It doesn''t matter," Nathan finally said, his voice clipped and guarded. But it did matter. Phoebe, Ayaka, Akane... and finally, Cristina. With each step-sibling, the betrayal he felt had grown, festering inside him like a wound that refused to heal. By the time it came to Cristina, it was the last straw¡ªthe betrayal that shattered him completely. "Really?" the woman pressed, her voice dropping to a low, chilling whisper that seemed to coil around him. Nathan''s frown deepened. He turned to face her for the first time, his eyes narrowing as suspicion flickered across his features. "Who are you?" Chapter 285: Zeus鈥檚 anger! Zeus stirred from his slumber, his eyes slowly opening to the faint glimmer of dawn streaking across the heavens. For a moment, he remained still, his senses overwhelmed by the weight of his rest. It felt as though he had been asleep for a millennium, his body heavy with an exhaustion that ran deeper than mere physical fatigue. Was it because he had pushed himself too far? The last few months had drained him, more than he cared to admit. Supporting the Trojan army¡ªeven with a mere fraction of his divine blessing¡ªhad taken a toll. Thetis¡¯s plea had been heartfelt, and Zeus, though reluctant, had granted her request. It wasn¡¯t a direct intervention; he hadn¡¯t granted the Trojans his full favor. Instead, he had provided subtle strength, a whispered boon to the hearts of thousands of soldiers. Yet even for him, the King of the Gods, such an effort over the months had proven straining. Without his quiet support, bolstered by Apollo¡¯s more overt blessings, the Trojans would likely have been crushed long ago. The relentless assault of the Greeks, fueled by the backing of Hera and Athena, had pushed the Trojans to the brink. But Zeus¡¯s intervention, subtle as it was, had been the hidden thread keeping the army from unraveling completely. Even so, he couldn¡¯t deny the toll it had taken¡ªphysically, yes, but also mentally. The endless prayers, the ceaseless cries of mortals for salvation, and the constant maneuvering among the gods had left him weary. And now it was over. As Zeus rose from his divine couch, the weight of the past week pressed against him. A full seven days had passed since he had closed his eyes, and in that brief span, the battlefield below had transformed into a vision of carnage and madness. The once-proud plains of Troy were now a blood-soaked wasteland. Crimson rivers carved paths through the earth, and the air reeked of iron and death. The anguished cries of the dying and the vengeful howls of the living mingled into a ceaseless dirge. But what truly turned his divine blood to ice was not the sight of mortal destruction¡ªit was the chaos above.@@@@ The heavens themselves were at war. Hera, Athena, and Poseidon had abandoned all pretense of neutrality, standing boldly in the midst of the fray. With unabashed fury, they rained destruction upon the Trojans, each strike resonating with their divine hatred. To counter them, Artemis stood tall, her bow string snapping with relentless precision as she unleashed volley after volley of silver-tipped arrows. Athena clashed fiercely with Ares, the battlefield trembling with each brutal exchange. The goddess of wisdom showed no hesitation, her strikes fueled by raw determination as the god of war laughed in bloodthirsty delight. Elsewhere, Apollo had returned, his radiant form alight with fury. Alongside Aphrodite, he desperately tried to fend off the overwhelming onslaught of Hera and Poseidon. The earth shuddered beneath their titanic blows, fissures splitting the ground as mortal soldiers scattered in terror. Zeus¡¯s gaze hardened as he took in the horrifying spectacle. This was no longer a mortal conflict. What he beheld was a slaughter on two fronts¡ªmortals tearing each other apart below while gods descended into petty, vengeful chaos above. The sky, once a symbol of Olympus¡¯s grandeur, had become a war zone of divine hatred and madness. Even the lesser gods, those who had no direct stake in the war, had joined the fray. None had respected his decree. His word, the law of the heavens, had been cast aside like dust on the wind. "Hermes." Zeus¡¯s voice cut through the tumult, sharp and glacial. The air itself seemed to still, trembling under the weight of his tone. It was a voice that carried the authority of the cosmos, one that left no room for jest or defiance. Within an instant, Hermes appeared before him. The messenger god, known for his mischievous smile and carefree demeanor, now bore a somber expression. His bright eyes betrayed no hint of levity. Even Hermes, who always dared to lighten the mood, knew better than to crack a joke at this moment. "You summoned me, Father," Hermes said, his voice steady but subdued. He stood straight, his usual relaxed posture replaced by a soldier-like rigidity. "What happened?" Zeus¡¯s voice was as sharp as winter¡¯s chill, each word carrying the weight of a storm. Athena, ever cautious, had seen the lightning¡¯s descent and fled before it could reach her. Her armor gleamed as she disappeared into the distance, her calculated mind already plotting her next move. And then there was Hera. She did not run. The Queen of the Gods appeared in Olympus, her face a mask of fury and defiance. Her piercing gaze met Zeus¡¯s, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Hera¡¯s lips curled into a sneer, but her fiery eyes betrayed the slightest flicker of unease. In an instant, Zeus materialized before Hera, his movements swifter than the eye could follow. The air crackled with power as his hand shot forward, clamping around her throat with a grip like iron. His fingers tightened, and the wrath that radiated from him was palpable¡ªa storm of divine fury barely contained within mortal form. For the first time in tens of thousands of years, Zeus¡¯s rage boiled over, eclipsing his usual restraint. His expression, once regal and composed, was now twisted in unbridled anger, his eyes blazing with light as though he were the storm itself. Hera¡¯s hands flew to his arm, her nails digging into his flesh as she struggled in vain to loosen his grip. But her efforts were futile. Zeus was immovable, an unyielding force that even she, the Queen of Olympus, could not match. "How dare you, Hera," Zeus growled, his voice low and venomous, each word a thunderclap. "After everything I have forgiven you for, after all your treacheries... this?" His glare was colder than the peaks of Mount Olympus, yet Hera did not cower. Despite the crushing weight of his grasp, her fiery defiance remained. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, her own fury burning just as brightly. "I don¡¯t care about your forgiveness!" she spat, her voice hoarse but resolute. "I want them dead, Zeus. All of them! The Trojans, every last one of them, wiped from existence!" Her declaration echoed through the halls of Olympus, defiant and unrepentant. Zeus¡¯s grip tightened further, his massive hand trembling with the effort to hold back his rage. It would be so easy¡ªso simple¡ªto end this. One twist of his hand, and her life would be extinguished. What she had done was unforgivable. Her betrayal had pushed the world into chaos, her defiance undermining his authority as King of the Gods. And yet... For all his fury, Zeus hesitated. Hera was not merely his wife but also his sister, bound to him by blood and history. Their mother, Rhea, seemed to whisper to him from the shadows of his mind, her voice a faint plea carried on the winds of memory. "She is still my daughter." Zeus growled, the sound deep and guttural, his wrath warring with the remnants of his restraint. Finally, with a forceful growl, he released her, flinging her to the marble floor with a thunderous crash. Hera landed hard, her breath rasping as she scrambled to her knees, her pride more wounded than her body. "This is over," Zeus declared, his voice cold and final. His towering figure loomed over her, his shadow cast long and foreboding across the golden hall. "No more trust. No more forgiveness. Nothing." Hera glared up at him, her expression hard despite the palpable weight of his fury. But for the first time, there was a flicker of something in her eyes¡ªwas it regret? Or simply the realization that this time she had gone too far and Zeus had abandoned all trust toward her? Chapter 286 Hector vs Chiron "Spartans!! Kill them all!!!" Menelaus''s thunderous roar pierced the chaos of the battlefield, reverberating across the blood-soaked plains. His voice carried the weight of his fury, igniting the spirits of his men like a torch in the darkness. His eyes, blazing with an unrelenting fire, locked onto his enemies with murderous intent. With every swing of his mighty sword, he cleaved through the ranks of the Trojans as if they were nothing but leaves caught in a storm. Five men fell in an instant, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the ground as crimson arcs of blood painted Menelaus''s face, armor, and the earth beneath his feet. He was a vision of war incarnate¡ªuntouchable, unstoppable. The Spartans roared in response to their king, their cries merging into a deafening chorus of resolve and bloodlust. They surged forward like an unyielding tide, their shields locked and spears poised, driving fear into the hearts of their adversaries. Facing Menelaus on the battlefield stood Aeneas, flanked by the battered yet determined Trojans. The once-proud son of Aphrodite had transformed over the months into a formidable warrior and a resolute leader. The weight of Sarpedon''s demise and the recent, devastating loss of Heiron had forged within him a newfound sense of responsibility. Aeneas knew he could never replace Heiron, a warrior of unparalleled strength and wisdom, but he could shoulder the burden of leadership and strive to fill the void his friend had left behind. Yet, even with his growing strength and tactical prowess, Aeneas found himself struggling against the might of the Spartan king. Menelaus''s ferocity and the unshakable morale of his army proved a daunting challenge. Not far from this clash, another critical battlefield unfolded. Patroclus stood tall among the Myrmidons, leading them with a determination born of love and loyalty. His bronze armor gleamed in the sunlight, and his presence inspired confidence among his warriors. He gripped his spear tightly, knowing the stakes of this battle. Khillea, his beloved, had pleaded with him to stay off the battlefield, to avoid the bloodshed. But Patroclus had resolved that this would be his final fight¡ªa necessary sacrifice to bring the war to a swift conclusion. If they could achieve victory before Khillea returned, he could save her from a fate sealed in blood and ensure that her daughter would grow up with her mother by her side. Opposing Patroclus was Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons, leading her warriors with unyielding ferocity. Though her injuries from previous battles had barely healed, she had disregarded all pleas to rest. Nothing mattered to her now¡ªnot the pain, not her wounds. Heiron''s death had extinguished the fragile ember of hope that had recently flickered within her¡ªa hope for a life beyond war, a life of love and peace with Nathan. That hope was gone. Penthesilea had returned fully to the mantle of the Amazon Queen, embracing the battlefield as her ultimate destiny. She wielded her spear with precision and purpose, her movements graceful yet deadly, as if choreographed by the gods themselves. Her mind was clear¡ªshe would fight to the very end, earning her death with honor if that was to be her fate. On the far side of the battlefield, Agamemnon directed his forces from a safe distance behind the front lines. His face, stern and unreadable, betrayed none of the unease stirring within him. For the past week, a troubling absence had weighed heavily on his mind¡ªthe protective presence of their gods had vanished. It wasn''t just an absence; it felt as though the gods had turned their backs entirely. Though no divine wrath had yet descended upon them, Agamemnon remained wary. The heavens had become unpredictable since Heiron''s death. The moment the mighty warrior fell, it was as if the skies themselves had split open, the cosmic order fracturing under the strain of his loss. For days, the heavens raged, torn by storms and unrelenting winds, before finally settling into an eerie calm. Your next journey awaits at My Virtual Library Empire This newfound silence from the gods made Agamemnon cautious. He had no intention of tempting fate. Yet, his mind clung to a single comforting truth¡ªthey were close. Victory was within reach. The gates of Troy stood as a testament to their perseverance, and now it was only a matter of time before they would fall. Still, despite his imminent triumph, there was a lingering annoyance. Heiron was dead. The thought filled Agamemnon with a rare, unrestrained sense of joy. The man had been a thorn in his side for far too long. Yet, one obstacle remained: Hector. Hector, the prince defender of Troy, stood like an indestructible wall before him. If only Hector were to fall, Agamemnon mused, this war would end swiftly, and with it, his ascension to glory. Hector wasted no time. With resolute determination etched across his face, he seized a sword and charged forward. "I''m sorry, teacher," Hector said, his voice steady yet heavy with resolve. "I never wanted this. But I won''t hesitate anymore." BADOOOM! The sound of steel meeting steel echoed across the battlefield as Chiron parried Hector''s strike with his lance. The sheer force of the blow, however, drove the centaur back once more, his hooves scraping against the bloodied ground as he struggled to regain his footing. "I have no choice!" Hector shouted, his voice carrying over the cacophony of the battle. Swinging his sword with devastating might, he unleashed a relentless flurry of attacks. The two clashed again and again, their weapons moving with blinding speed, each strike sending ripples of force across the battlefield. They were titans among men, locked in a duel that none dared interrupt. Soldiers on both sides instinctively backed away, keeping their distance from the two combatants who seemed more like demigods than mere mortals. Each collision of their weapons sent shockwaves through the air, the ground trembling beneath their feet. Onlookers watched in awe and terror as the battle unfolded, the sheer intensity of their fight commanding absolute attention. Despite being pushed to his limits, Chiron couldn''t help but feel a flicker of pride. His student, the boy he had trained and mentored, had grown into a warrior of unparalleled strength. Even as an enemy, Hector''s progress filled Chiron with a sense of accomplishment. A faint smile tugged at the centaur''s lips, even as he fended off Hector''s relentless assault. "You''ve come far, Hector," he muttered under his breath. "Farther than I could have ever imagined." But pride wasn''t enough to win this fight. Chiron was a teacher, and to let himself be defeated without giving his all would betray his very principles. Hector, too, was unwavering. The time for restraint had passed. Heiron''s death had shattered the illusions of glory and revelry that had once accompanied the war. This was no longer a game of feasts and rivalries; it was a brutal, unforgiving conflict. And in this battle, only one of them would walk away. The clang of weapons and the cries of soldiers formed a chaotic symphony as Hector and Chiron fought with everything they had. Each strike was a declaration, each block a defiance. Amid the chaos, a lone figure observed the fierce battle from a distance. Dressed in Spartan armor, the man stood silently, his face obscured by a helmet. Yet, upon closer inspection, the resemblance was unmistakable. His features bore a striking similarity to Hector''s. It was Paris. He stood motionless for a moment, his gaze fixed on the duel between his brother and Chiron. Then, his eyes shifted toward another part of the battlefield. There, amidst the carnage, was Menelaus, leading his Spartans with relentless fury. Paris''s lips curled into a twisted smirk, a dark glint in his eyes. The prince of Troy, often underestimated, had plans of his own. Chapter 287 Chirons death The battlefield was alive with chaos. The deafening roar of clashing armies echoed in the distance, but within the eye of this storm stood two titans: Hector, the Prince of Troy, and Chiron, his former teacher and mentor. Their duel had captured the attention of all around them. Even the most battle-hardened warriors hesitated to approach, the sheer force of their strikes creating ripples in the air and quakes in the earth. Chiron, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, shifted his weight. His lance trembled slightly in his grasp, a testament to both his age and the ferocity of Hector''s attacks. Across from him, Hector stood tall, his golden aura shimmering like sunlight caught in motion. His breaths came heavy but steady, his grip on his sword unyielding. "You''ve grown strong, Hector," Chiron said, his voice steady despite the exertion. "Stronger than I had imagined. But strength alone does not make a warrior." "A lesson I learned from you," Hector replied, his tone laced with both respect and determination. "But today, I fight not as your student, but as the defender of Troy." Without another word, Hector surged forward. His sword gleamed in the golden light as he brought it down in a powerful arc. Chiron met the strike with his lance, the two weapons colliding with a deafening clang. Sparks flew, and the ground beneath them cracked from the force. Chiron countered with a swift thrust of his lance, aiming for Hector''s chest. Hector twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the attack, and retaliated with a horizontal slash. Chiron reared back on his hind legs, the blade missing him by inches. The centaur''s movements were fluid despite his injuries, a testament to his centuries of experience. But Hector was relentless. He pressed the attack, his strikes faster and more precise. Each swing of his sword carried the weight of his resolve, the pain of loss, and the hope of his people. Chiron parried and dodged, his every movement calculated, but he could feel his strength waning. Hector was no longer the eager student he had trained; he was a warrior in his prime. The two clashed again, their weapons locking. For a moment, they were face to face, the tension palpable. "Do you really think you can win, Hector? It''s impossible. You should look at the reality." Hector''s eyes hardened. "I will kill you, Chiron and then make sure Troy will come out as victory." With a surge of strength, Hector pushed Chiron back. The centaur stumbled, his hooves skidding against the dirt. Hector seized the moment, lunging forward with a powerful thrust. Chiron barely managed to deflect the blade, but the force sent him reeling. The others watched in awe as the duel unfolded. Each exchange was a testament to their skill and determination. Hector''s raw power and speed were matched by Chiron''s experience and precision, creating a balance that seemed impossible to break. But the balance began to shift. Hector''s strikes grew more forceful, his movements more aggressive. The golden aura around him intensified, a manifestation of his inner strength. Chiron, on the other hand, was visibly tiring. His breaths were labored, and his movements lacked their usual fluidity. Hector''s sword came down in a powerful overhead strike. Chiron raised his lance to block, but the impact was too much. The lance snapped in two, the shards scattering across the ground. Chiron staggered, his eyes wide with shock.@@@@ "It''s over, teacher," Hector said, his voice resolute. Chiron''s gaze hardened. "Not yet." Despite his injuries, Chiron charged forward, using his hooves to kick up a cloud of dust. Hector shielded his eyes, momentarily blinded. Chiron used the opportunity to grab one of the broken halves of his lance and swung it with all his might. The makeshift weapon struck Hector''s shoulder, drawing blood and forcing him back. Hector gritted his teeth, the pain fueling his determination. He swung his sword in a wide arc, dispersing the dust and forcing Chiron to retreat. The centaur''s movements were slower now, his strength nearly spent. Hector advanced, his strikes relentless. Each swing of his sword chipped away at Chiron''s defenses, leaving the centaur with fewer and fewer options. "This ends now!" Hector roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield. With a final, powerful strike, Hector''s sword pierced through Chiron''s remaining weapon and into his side. Chiron gasped, the pain overwhelming. He dropped the broken lance and fell to his knees, blood pooling beneath him. Hector stepped back, his chest heaving. He looked down at his former teacher, his expression a mixture of sorrow and resolve. Chiron raised his head, his eyes meeting Hector''s. "You''ve become a great warrior, Hector. I''m proud of you." Just moments earlier, Menelaus had erupted upon hearing the news of Chiron''s death. "Chiron is dead? That useless horse!" he bellowed, his voice echoing like thunder across the camp. The typically composed king had lost his temper, his frustration boiling over. He had grown increasingly impatient with the war, desperate to reclaim Helen and restore his honor. But Helen¡ªhis wife, the spark of this bloody conflict¡ªhad not appeared on the walls of Troy for days. Her absence gnawed at him like a festering wound. Even others who usually graced the walls with their presence had vanished. Astynome, Kassandra, and Helen, the woman who had drawn armies to war. None of them had been seen since Heiron''s death. As Menelaus brooded in his fury, a soldier approached him cautiously, his armor glinting faintly in the light of the setting sun. The battlefield around them still echoed with the clash of swords and the cries of the wounded, but here, near the Spartan king, there was an unsettling stillness. "My king," the soldier began, his voice low but firm, "I think it would be wise to retreat." Menelaus froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He turned his head slowly toward the man, disbelief etched on his face. "What did you say?" he hissed, his tone dripping with venom. The soldier swallowed hard but stood his ground. "We are losing ground. If we stay¡ª" "You dare!" Menelaus''s roar cut through the soldier''s words like a blade. His face twisted with rage as he closed the distance between them, grabbing the man by the collar of his crimson Spartan cloak. "Do you know who you speak to? Do you want to die for your insolence?" The soldier remained silent, his expression unreadable, but his hand shifted subtly toward his side. Menelaus''s fury blinded him to the danger until it was too late. A searing, blinding pain erupted in his stomach, stealing the breath from his lungs. His grip on the man faltered, and he staggered back, his expression contorting into one of shock and disbelief. Lowering his gaze, Menelaus saw the glint of steel protruding from his abdomen. A sword. The soldier had thrust his blade deep into his stomach. Blood poured from the wound, staining his armor and pooling at his feet. "Gaaaarghhh!" Menelaus groaned in agony, clutching at the wound as he stumbled backward. His legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The soldier stepped forward, his movements calm and deliberate. With a single motion, he removed his helmet, revealing a face that sent a jolt of recognition and fury through Menelaus''s fading senses. "You!" Menelaus choked out, his voice trembling with rage and hatred. His vision blurred, but there was no mistaking the man before him¡ªParis, the prince of Troy, the man who had stolen Helen, the man who had sparked this endless war. Paris''s lips curled into a twisted smirk, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "Helen is mine," he said, his voice filled with venom and triumph. Menelaus clenched his fists, his hatred burning brighter than the pain in his body. He tried to rise, his legs trembling with the effort, but his strength failed him. He collapsed again, blood pouring from his wound, staining the ground beneath him. Around them, the battlefield seemed to fall into an eerie silence. Soldiers froze in place, as if bound by some unseen force. None moved to intervene. None dared. "I will... kill you!" Menelaus rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper, but his glare was filled with unyielding hatred. Paris''s smirk widened as he raised his sword high, the blade catching the last light of the dying sun. "Not today, king," he said coldly. With a swift and merciless strike, the blade sliced through the air¡ªand then through Menelaus''s neck. SPATTER! Blood sprayed across the ground as Menelaus''s head fell from his shoulders, his lifeless body crumpling to the dirt. Chapter 288 Pariss return A deafening silence enveloped the battlefield as Menelaus''s severed head soared through the air, its trajectory a macabre arc against the pale sky. A torrent of crimson erupted from his neck, gushing violently and splattering onto the ground like a grisly fountain. The sticky warmth of the blood painted not only the soil but also drenched Paris''s bronze armor, staining it in stark red. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of death. Paris stood amidst the chaos, his smirk twisting grotesquely as he gazed at the headless body of the Spartan king crumpling to the ground. The gleam in his eyes was unhinged, the triumph on his face a mask of madness. And then, a sound erupted from his throat¡ªa wild, maniacal laughter that tore through the eerie quiet like a blade through flesh. "GAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" The battlefield trembled with his voice, a booming echo that carried across the plains. The Spartans, hardened warriors who had witnessed countless deaths, felt an unfamiliar chill creep up their spines. Their resolve faltered as they tightened their grips on their weapons, their knuckles white with fear. For the first time, they hesitated¡ªnot because of what Paris had done, but because of what he had become. He radiated something unnatural, something far beyond the Paris they had known. This was not the prince who had fled humiliated weeks ago, broken and defeated after his disastrous duel with Menelaus. That Paris had disappeared, vanished like a shadow retreating from the light. Whispers had circulated: some claimed he had fled Troy itself, too ashamed to return. Others believed he had perished in the wilderness, his story a cautionary tale of arrogance undone. But no one¡ªno one¡ªhad imagined this: Paris returning to the battlefield, not just alive but transformed into a harbinger of death. "I am the strongest among you miserable Greeks!" Paris roared, his voice dripping with contempt. He raised his blade high, the polished steel glinting malevolently in the sunlight. With a single, deliberate motion, he swung it behind him. The air itself seemed to scream in protest as the force of the swing unleashed a piercing, unnatural sound, slicing through the atmosphere with a deadly hum. And then, silence¡ªbefore the unimaginable happened. Fifty of Spartan soldiers fell at once, their heads and limbs severed in a grotesque display of precision and power. Blood rained down in thick, warm torrents, pooling around the lifeless bodies as if the earth itself was drinking its fill. Fifty men lay dead in an instant, their lives extinguished with a single swing. "What is this madness?!" one Spartan cried, his voice trembling with disbelief. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire "I don''t know!" another replied, his face pale with terror.@@@@ "Kill him!" a captain roared, though his voice betrayed his own fear. The Spartans charged, their disciplined formation crumbling in the face of their desperation. But every soldier who dared to approach Paris met the same fate¡ªinstant death. His sword moved with a speed and precision that defied comprehension, each strike a symphony of carnage. Heads rolled, limbs flew, and screams of agony filled the air, mingling with Paris''s deranged laughter. Despair took hold of the Spartan ranks. Those who had survived the initial massacre began to retreat, keeping their distance and opting for ranged attacks. Fireballs, jagged spikes of earth, and razor-sharp gusts of wind hurtled toward Paris. But each assault struck an invisible barrier, dissipating harmlessly as though the gods themselves had intervened to shield him. "With me, Myrmidons!" Patroclus roared, his voice carrying over the din of the battlefield. "Let''s show him the strength of the strongest army¡ªthe army of Achilles!" The Myrmidons answered with a battle cry that shook the ground itself, their voices unified in purpose. They surged forward with unrelenting speed, their spears glinting like deadly stars. Odysseus''s eyes widened, a cold dread gripping his chest. A terrible premonition clawed at the edges of his mind. No¡ªPatroclus must not fight Paris. This was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. "Patroclus!" Odysseus called out, his voice urgent, but it was already too late. Patroclus and the Myrmidons were locked onto their path, their charge unstoppable. Before Odysseus could act, Agamemnon''s voice cut through the tension. "Odysseus," he called, his tone calm yet laced with a dangerous undercurrent. Odysseus turned sharply to face the king. "Agamemnon! We can''t let him fight Paris! This is madness! He''s running to his death!" His words were desperate, laced with anger and frustration. But Agamemnon''s expression was cold, calculating. A smirk spread across his face, one that sent a chill down Odysseus''s spine. "Let him fight," Agamemnon said dismissively, his voice dripping with indifference. "If Paris is killed, it''s good. If Patroclus is killed..." He paused, his smirk widening. "...it''s very good." Odysseus froze, his mouth agape in shock. "What?" he demanded, his voice barely a whisper. He couldn''t believe what he was hearing. How could the death of Patroclus¡ªa hero in his own right¡ªbe considered a boon? Agamemnon''s smirk turned into a cruel grin. "Think, Odysseus," he said, his tone condescending. "If Patroclus is killed, he will come, won''t he?" The realization hit Odysseus like a thunderclap. He staggered back, his mind reeling. He didn''t need to ask who Agamemnon meant. The answer was clear¡ªterrifyingly clear. Achilles. The wrathful demigod. The greatest warrior the world had ever known. If Patroclus fell, Achilles''s fury would burn brighter than the sun. And when Achilles unleashed his rage, not even the gods themselves would escape unscathed. Odysseus''s heart sank as he turned his gaze back to the battlefield, where Patroclus was charging toward Paris with fearless resolve. Chapter 289: Patroclus vs Paris! The battlefield was a cacophony of chaos¡ªclanging steel, the cries of dying men, and the dull roar of fires consuming the remnants of siege engines. Paris, Prince of Troy, strode through the carnage like a specter of death, his blade slicing through the Myrmidons with frightening precision. His lips curled into a cruel smile as he revelled in the bloodshed, his every movement graceful yet deadly. "Paris!!" Stay tuned to Freewebnovel The sharp, commanding voice cut through the din. Paris paused mid-swing, his sword dripping crimson, and turned toward the source. His golden armor gleamed under the sun as he laid eyes on the man who had called him out. "Ah," Paris said, his voice laced with mockery. "If it isn¡¯t Patroclus. Tell me, where is Achilles? Has he finally realized that his so-called invincibility is no match for me? Or is he cowering somewhere, too frightened to face the inevitable?" Patroclus sneered, stepping forward with measured purpose. His bronze-plated armor bore the scratches of countless battles, yet his posture remained unwavering, his blue eyes fierce with determination. "Achilles does not concern himself with the likes of you, Paris. You are unworthy of his blade. But me? I¡¯ll be more than enough to end your delusions of grandeur." Paris threw his head back and laughed, a guttural sound that echoed across the battlefield. "You? Kill me? The strongest man on this battlefield? Gahahaha! Even Achilles, your so-called demigod, would fall before my might! And yet you think you stand a chance?" "Yes," Patroclus replied calmly, his voice steady. He raised his sword, its polished surface reflecting the sun¡¯s glare. "Achilles wouldn¡¯t waste his time on a coward who hides behind boasts. Now face me, Paris. Prove yourself, if you dare!" Paris¡¯s amusement faded, replaced by a sudden, seething anger. His eyes burned with hatred as he snarled, "Do not underestimate me, you filthy Greek! I¡¯ll carve you apart!" With a roar, Paris launched himself at Patroclus, his speed almost inhuman. He closed the distance in an instant, his blade slicing through the air with deadly intent. Patroclus¡¯s eyes widened at the sheer velocity of the attack, but his battle-hardened instincts took over. He sidestepped at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the strike. Behind him, ten Myrmidons fell in a single sweep of Paris¡¯s sword, their bodies cleaved as though their armor were parchment. Seeing his comrades fall, Patroclus¡¯s fury ignited. He raised his sword high, its edge flickering with flames as he invoked his power. "Answer me, Fire!" he bellowed, the blaze roaring to life along the blade. He charged at Paris and swung with all his might. But Paris, ever mocking, met the attack head-on. His own blade intercepted Patroclus¡¯s fiery strike, extinguishing the flames in a clash of sparks. "Is this all the famed Myrmidons have to offer?" he sneered. Before Patroclus could respond, the remaining Myrmidons rallied, charging at Paris with a ferocious cry. The battlefield became a whirlwind of chaos as they surrounded the Trojan prince, striking from every angle. "Come at me a hundred at a time if you wish!" Paris roared, his voice brimming with arrogance. He spun in a deadly arc, his sword carving through the Myrmidons¡¯ thick armor as if it were butter. Their weapons bounced harmlessly off his golden plate, their efforts to find a blind spot futile. Yet, despite their hopeless odds, the Myrmidons pressed on, their resolve unbroken. Patroclus watched the massacre with gritted teeth. He gripped his sword tightly, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of his comrades¡¯ sacrifice, their bravery fueling his determination. "Thetis, lend me your strength!" he prayed aloud, invoking the divine favor bestowed upon Achilles. Golden light erupted from his blade, radiant and searing. The air crackled with energy as he raised the sword high above his head. "Celestial Magic!" he roared, bringing the blade down in a blinding arc aimed directly at Paris. The brilliance of the attack forced Paris to act on instinct. His mocking expression twisted into panic as he brought his sword up in a desperate attempt to block the strike. BADDDOOOOOOM! "You think your soldiers can save you?" Paris roared, his blade carving through another line of Myrmidons. "All they¡¯re doing is delaying the inevitable!" Patroclus watched in horror as his comrades fell one by one, their blood staining the earth. Anger and grief welled up inside him, threatening to consume him. He clenched his jaw, his knuckles white as he gripped his sword. "I won¡¯t let you do this, Paris," he muttered under his breath. "I won¡¯t let their sacrifice be in vain!" Summoning every ounce of his strength, Patroclus lunged at Paris with a battle cry. His blade, once again wreathed in flames, slashed toward the Trojan prince with deadly precision. Paris blocked the attack with ease, their swords locking together in a fierce struggle. "You¡¯re stubborn, I¡¯ll give you that," he said, his lips curling into a sadistic grin. "But stubbornness won¡¯t save you." He twisted his blade, forcing Patroclus to stumble back. Without missing a beat, Paris unleashed a flurry of strikes, each one faster and more ferocious than the last. Patroclus struggled to keep up, his arms aching from the strain of parrying each blow. "Is this all you¡¯ve got?" Paris taunted, his strikes growing more erratic, more savage. "Where¡¯s that fire you showed earlier? Where¡¯s that arrogance?!" Patroclus gritted his teeth, his body screaming in protest as he blocked another powerful swing. "I¡¯ll never yield to the likes of you!" he shouted, his voice raw with determination. But Paris¡¯s strength was overwhelming. With one final, devastating strike, he shattered Patroclus¡¯s sword, the blade splintering into pieces. Patroclus staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He stared at the broken hilt in his hand, disbelief flickering across his face. "It¡¯s over, Patroclus," Paris said, his voice cold and unfeeling. He stepped forward, his darkened blade gleaming ominously. Patroclus refused to back down. He clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with defiance. "Even without a weapon, I¡¯ll fight you to my last breath!" Paris smirked, raising his sword. "Then die with your foolish pride." With a swift, brutal motion, Paris drove his blade into Patroclus¡¯s chest, piercing his heart. Patroclus gasped, blood bubbling from his lips as the life drained from his eyes. He collapsed to his knees, his hand clutching weakly at the sword embedded in his chest. Paris leaned in close, his voice a venomous whisper. "You should have stayed in Achilles¡¯s shadow where you belonged." Patroclus¡¯s gaze flickered toward the distant horizon, where the faint sound of battle still raged. His lips moved, forming words too faint to hear, before his body went limp and he crumpled to the ground. Paris pulled his blade free, wiping the blood from its surface with an air of indifference. He looked down at Patroclus¡¯s lifeless form and laughed. "Gahahaah!! I AM THE STRONGEST!!" Chapter 290: Achilles is back... The battlefield, once alive with the cacophony of war, now lay silent, shrouded in a thick veil of loss. The death of Patroclus had struck a blow so devastating that even the air seemed to carry the weight of despair. Odysseus, ever the pragmatic strategist, had immediately ordered the retreat of the Greek forces for the day, disregarding Agamemnon¡¯s vehement protests. To continue fighting after such a catastrophic loss would be reckless, a folly driven by the hubris of one man¡¯s unyielding desire to raze Troy to the ground. Agamemnon¡¯s obsession with victory had become a reckless flame, consuming logic and reason. His unrelenting push for battle had reached an absurd extreme, but Odysseus was not one to be swayed by arrogance. He recognized the need to preserve what little morale the Greeks had left. Today had been disastrous¡ªa day of unparalleled tragedy. Chiron, the wise and noble centaur; Menelaus, King of Sparta; and Patroclus, beloved companion of Achilles¡ªall had fallen. Their deaths, cruel and senseless, had occurred within mere hours of each other. The losses were too great to bear. To push forward now would be suicide, an act of madness born of desperation. Odysseus¡¯s command to retreat was not just a tactical decision but a necessary one. The Greek army, battered and broken, withdrew from the field under the shadow of grief. Their spirits had been shattered; their courage drained to the dregs. Yet, for the first time in the long years of this brutal war, Odysseus¡¯s thoughts were not consumed by the plight of the Greek forces. No, his mind was elsewhere¡ªon something far more urgent. Patroclus was dead. And Achilles didn¡¯t know yet. When Patroclus had announced his decision to take part in the battle, leading the Myrmidons into the fray, Odysseus had suspected that Achilles was unaware of the plan¡ªor, at the very least, did not approve of it. Achilles, fiercely protective of Patroclus, would never have allowed his dearest companion to enter the battlefield alone. Yet Odysseus had not stopped him. He had welcomed the help, eager for the strength and valor of the Myrmidons to bolster their dwindling ranks. Now, that decision weighed heavily on him. Grief churned in his chest, a bitter storm of guilt and sorrow. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he had sent Patroclus to his death. The memory of the young warrior¡¯s kindness, his unwavering sense of justice, lingered painfully in Odysseus¡¯s mind. In many ways, Patroclus had reminded him of Heracles¡ªa rare soul who carried both strength and compassion in equal measure. And now he was gone. As if that wasn¡¯t enough, Chiron¡ªthe wise and noble mentor who had guided so many of Greece¡¯s greatest heroes¡ªhad also perished. It was almost too much to bear.@@@@ The Greek encampment, once a hive of activity, now felt like a mausoleum. Inside Agamemnon¡¯s grand tent, the once-crowded war council sat nearly empty. The heavy air was suffused with silence, broken only by the faint crackling of torches. Agamemnon slouched on his gilded throne, his face a mask of fury and denial, while Nestor stood somberly behind him, his age-worn face etched with sorrow. Odysseus was the only other figure present. The absence of the other leaders was a grim testament to the day¡¯s bloodshed. The Heroes of the Empire of Light, who had once stood as allies in this war, were no longer present either. Their leader, Liphiel, had been slain by Heiron, and with her death, their resolve had crumbled. They had slowly begun to distance themselves from the conflict, their loyalty to the cause waning with each passing hour. Odysseus had noticed their quiet retreat¡ªthe subtle packing of belongings, the whispered conversations by the harbor. They were waiting, it seemed, for a ship to carry them back to their distant homeland the LIGHT EMPIRE, far from the cursed plains of Troy. In the end, they stood alone, their hopes for reinforcements dwindling into distant fantasies. The weight of their isolation pressed down like a leaden sky, but despite this grim reality, Agamemnon exuded an unshakable confidence. Odysseus could see it in the king¡¯s narrowed gaze and the faint smirk tugging at his lips. And Odysseus knew why. Patroclus was dead. That fact carried more weight than any battalion of warriors. It was not just a loss but a summons, a harbinger of something fierce and unstoppable. "Lord Odysseus!" The cry interrupted his thoughts. A soldier burst into the tent, his face alight with a grin so wide it seemed to banish the tension in the air. "Achilles has returned!" Odysseus froze, his eyes widening as the words sank in. Without hesitation, he pushed past the soldier and rushed out of the tent, his heart pounding in his chest. The dry, dust-filled air outside hit his face, but he barely noticed it. His mind raced faster than his legs as he made his way toward the Myrmidon encampment. But beneath his hurried stride, Odysseus¡¯s face was grave. His thoughts churned, grappling for the right words. What could he possibly say? How could he explain what had happened in Achilles¡¯s absence? Every sentence he constructed crumbled under the weight of what it had to carry. The walk to the Myrmidons¡¯ camp felt both too long and too short. Before he knew it, he stood before them. The sight was somber¡ªan air of mourning hung over the gathered warriors. The Myrmidons, proud and fierce as they were, avoided meeting his gaze. Their heads were bowed, their bodies tense with unspoken grief. "No, she can¡¯t." Khillea turned sharply, her golden eyes narrowing as she spotted Agamemnon approaching, his imposing figure framed against the camp¡¯s dim torches. The air seemed to grow heavier as his words hung between them. "What did you just say?" Khillea¡¯s tone was sharp, her gaze piercing as it locked onto Agamemnon. But Agamemnon did not flinch. Behind him, a group of soldiers emerged, carrying something on a makeshift wooden bier. A heavy cloth covered the shape beneath, its outline unmistakably human. The soldiers moved with quiet solemnity, their faces grim and pale. Khillea¡¯s brows furrowed. Her heart quickened, though she refused to acknowledge the dark thought that whispered in the back of her mind. Agamemnon strode forward and gestured toward the bier. "See for yourself," he said, his voice steady but cold. Reaching down, he grasped the edge of the cloth and pulled it back in one swift motion. Khillea froze. Beneath the cloth lay Patroclus, his face pale and still. His chest no longer rose and fell with breath. The golden armor he wore¡ªher armor¡ªwas tarnished and mangled, blackened by what could only be burns from a cursed weapon. The once-pristine metal was shattered at the chest, where Paris¡¯s cowardly arrow had struck. Silence descended like a shroud over the camp. Khillea¡¯s gold eyes widened, ever so slightly, before narrowing again. She did not speak, nor did she move. Her gaze remained locked on Patroclus¡¯s lifeless face. Her expression was unreadable, frozen in an icy calm that defied the storm building within her. "He¡¯s dead," Agamemnon said bluntly, as if the finality of the words could pierce the surreal haze that gripped the scene. "The Trojans killed him. Cowardly, from behind. Hector and Paris were the culprits." The words reverberated in the air, but Khillea did not react. She did not even blink. Her focus remained fixed on the body of her closest companion, the man who had shared her tent, her victories, and her dreams. Odysseus stood nearby, his throat tightening as he observed Khillea¡¯s expression¡ªor rather, the absence of one. He had seen her in countless battles, her face twisted in rage, defiance, or triumph. But this... this silence, this stillness, was more unnerving than anything he had witnessed before. "Achill¡ª" Odysseus began, stepping closer. He wanted to say something, anything to comfort her. But before the words could escape his lips, Khillea turned abruptly. Without a word, she walked away, her steps measured, her posture rigid. The Myrmidons parted to let her pass, their heads bowed, their gazes averted. The silence deepened, save for the faint crackle of the campfires. Odysseus started to follow her, but he stopped when he caught a glimpse of her face. Khillea¡¯s expression¡ªthough fleeting, hidden beneath the dim light¡ªwas like a crack in the fac?ade of a mighty temple. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her jaw clenched so tightly it trembled. And her eyes... Her golden eyes blazed with a fury so cold it could freeze the world. It was an expression that promised retribution, one that made even the most battle-hardened Myrmidons shudder. Odysseus swallowed hard, his heart heavy with dread. He did not need to follow her to know what was coming next. Chapter 291 Paris back to Troy The city of Troy buzzed with an air of celebration, a stark contrast to the somber gloom that hung over the Greek camps. Laughter echoed through the streets, children darted about with carefree smiles, and the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine filled the air. It was a rare moment of joy amidst the long years of war, all thanks to the unprecedented victory on the battlefield that day. The Greeks, formidable and relentless, had suffered a staggering blow. Three of their most vital leaders had fallen: the wise Chiron, the stalwart Menelaus, and the young but courageous Patroclus. It was a day that the Trojans would remember, for it marked a turning point in a war that had seemed unwinnable for so long. For weeks, the Trojans had been on the back foot, struggling to hold their ground against the relentless Myrmidons and the fierce leadership of Patroclus, who had joined the fray in Achilles'' stead. Yet, amidst the chaos and despair, Hector¡ªthe hero of Troy¡ªhad risen to the challenge. In a clash of titans, he had defeated Chiron, his spear striking true and felling the legendary centaur who had guided and taught many Greek heroes. But the fall of Menelaus and Patroclus? That was a different tale entirely, one steeped in mystery and surprise. Their deaths were not Hector''s doing, nor the work of any renowned Trojan warrior. Instead, the credit¡ªor perhaps the suspicion¡ªbelonged to a man who had once been scorned, ridiculed, and dismissed. Paris of Troy, the wayward prince who had fled the battlefield a month ago after a humiliating defeat at the hands of Menelaus, had returned. And he was no longer the same man who had once been derided for his cowardice. His newfound strength, both physical and in his presence, was undeniable. The once-timid prince now walked with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. His strikes on the battlefield had been swift, precise, and lethal, claiming the lives of Menelaus and Patroclus with uncharacteristic ferocity. His return, however, raised as many questions as it did cheers. How had Paris changed so drastically? What power had he gained, and at what cost? That evening, King Priam hosted a grand feast in honor of the day''s victory. The great hall of Troy was alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of goblets, and the aroma of roasted lamb and honeyed bread. Soldiers, nobles, and even commoners gathered, all eager to celebrate the rare triumph. At the center of the hall sat Paris, his grin as wide as the crescent moon, basking in the admiration and curiosity of his family and comrades. Hector, however, was less enthused. His sharp eyes watched Paris like a hawk, suspicion etched into every line of his face. When the moment was right, he leaned toward his younger brother, his voice low but firm. Stay updated via My Virtual Library Empire "Where were you all this time, Paris?" Hector asked, his tone heavy with suspicion. Paris, lounging comfortably with a goblet of wine in hand, smirked at his older brother. "Come now, Hector, must you greet me with such a wary gaze? I''m your brother, after all." "You ran away, Paris," Hector replied bluntly, his tone as sharp as a blade. "And now you return, wielding strength that doesn''t belong to you." Paris''s smirk faltered for a moment, but his defiance quickly returned. He straightened, meeting Hector''s glare with one of his own. "Watch your tongue, brother. This strength is mine! I earned it. I deserve it!" Her father''s exasperation did not faze her. She stood, her weary frame radiating a strength born from despair. "I have told you since his birth," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Paris will bring ruin to Troy. He should leave and never return." Hector studied his sister carefully. There was something different in her tone tonight¡ªan urgency, an undeniable truth that clawed at his instincts. It was as if some divine force, long suppressing his belief in her visions, was loosening its grip. For the first time, he found himself questioning his own doubts. "Kassandra," Hector began, his voice quieter now, "why do you say this? Why tonight?" She turned to him, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that made him flinch. "Because I can see it," she whispered, the weight of her words sinking deep into the air. "I have always seen it. Every step he takes, every word he speaks¡ªit leads us closer to destruction." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked out of the hall, her footsteps echoing loudly in the stunned silence she left behind. "What do we do, Father?" Hector finally asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Priam leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple as if trying to dispel the tension building in the room. "What do you want to do?" he asked, his tone laden with exhaustion. "I don''t know," Hector admitted, his brow furrowed deeply. "Maybe it''s just my instincts, but I feel... uneasy. As if something terrible is on the horizon." Priam regarded his eldest son carefully, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he turned to Astynome, the priestess who had been sitting quietly at the edge of the gathering. Since Heiron''s death, she had spoken little, her once-lively demeanor now shrouded in grief. "What do you think, Priestess?" Priam asked, his voice soft yet commanding. Astynome looked up slowly, her eyes hollow but thoughtful. For a long moment, she said nothing, the silence stretching thin. Then, finally, she nodded. "I agree," she said simply, her voice barely above a whisper. Her words, though few, carried weight. Priam sighed heavily, leaning forward in his seat. "Then we will take no rash actions," he declared, though his tone was far from decisive. "Not yet. But we will remain vigilant." Hector nodded, though the unease in his heart did not abate. Chapter 292 Helens sadness Helen sat quietly in the garden of the Trojan castle, the gentle hum of the breeze weaving through the flowerbeds around her. The garden, once a place of solace, now seemed like a hollow echo of what it used to be. The vibrant blossoms no longer brought her peace; they felt like mockeries of her sorrow. She gazed at the marble fountain in the center, the water''s gentle trickle failing to soothe her restless thoughts. She felt adrift, lost in a sea of emotions that had no outlet. She didn''t know what to think or what to feel anymore. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Just when Troy seemed to be stabilizing, when life had started to regain some semblance of normalcy, Heiron was gone. His death was like a black shroud cast over the city, darkening the hearts of everyone within its walls. It would be dishonest to say she hadn''t cared for him. She had. He was more than a passing acquaintance; he had become her confidant in a way no one else could. Unlike the others who only saw her as a trophy, a figure to admire or resent, Heiron treated her like a person¡ªjust a woman who needed someone to talk to. Their conversations had been a rarity in her life: genuine, short yet meaningful exchanges that she found herself looking forward to. When the pressures of her existence¡ªthe endless guilt, the weight of expectation, the suffocating isolation¡ªgrew too much to bear, she could vent to him. He would listen without judgment, without ulterior motives. Heiron had cared. Not about her beauty, not about her infamy, but about her. He even shared news of the war with her, sparing her the humiliation of having to ask others who might scoff or sneer. For those brief moments, she had felt seen, understood, even human. But now, Heiron was dead. A sharp pang of loneliness pierced her chest. She hadn''t anticipated how much his absence would hurt. The garden felt emptier now, devoid of the comfort his presence once brought. And once again, the familiar weight of guilt crept in. This was all because of her. It didn''t matter what others said to absolve her; the truth was clear in her mind. If it weren''t for her, this war wouldn''t have happened. If she hadn''t been born, the world might have been a more peaceful place. The thought lingered, growing heavier with each passing day. "You''re here alone again?" The sudden voice startled her, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. Helen turned to see her older sister, Clytemnestra, standing at the edge of the garden. Her sister''s presence was both a relief and a reminder of the burdens they shared. "Sister..." Helen murmured, lowering her gaze, unable to meet Clytemnestra''s eyes. Clytemnestra sighed, her steps measured as she approached. Her expression was stern but tinged with concern, a look Helen knew well. "How long are you going to keep running away from me?" Clytemnestra asked, folding her arms. "I''m not running away," Helen replied weakly, her voice lacking conviction. "You are," Clytemnestra said firmly. "And I''ve already told you¡ªwhat happened to my daughter, Iphigenia, is not your fault." Helen flinched at the mention of her niece, the memory of the young girl''s tragic fate cutting through her like a blade. Iphigenia had been sacrificed, a casualty of her father Agamemnon''s ambitions and the whims of the gods. Yet, despite knowing the true cause, Helen couldn''t stop blaming herself. "But it is," Helen whispered, her voice trembling. "If not for me, there would have been no war. If not for me, Iphigenia would still be alive. How can I not feel responsible?" Clytemnestra knelt beside her, placing a hand on Helen''s shoulder. Her touch was firm but comforting. "This war... It wasn''t born from you," Clytemnestra said. "It was born from men''s greed, their lust for power, their refusal to take accountability for their own choices. Agamemnon sacrificed my daughter because of his hubris, not because of you. You carry a burden that isn''t yours to bear, Helen." Helen closed her eyes, tears welling but refusing to fall. Clytemnestra''s words were meant to comfort, but they couldn''t erase the gnawing guilt. Paris nodded, oblivious to the growing tension. "Yes, my love. No one will ever hurt you again, not while I''m here." Helen looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of anger and despair. "You think this is what I want? More bloodshed, more death? You think killing my husband¡ªkilling thousands of men¡ªwill erase the pain of all that''s been lost?" Paris faltered, his confident smile wavering. "You talk of protecting me," Helen continued, her voice rising, trembling with emotion. "But all you''ve done is bring more destruction, more suffering. You didn''t save me, Paris. You condemned me. Just like everyone else." Paris opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Clytemnestra stepped closer to him, her glare icy. "You''ve done enough harm," she said, her voice low and threatening. "Leave her be, Paris. She doesn''t need you." Paris''s glare darkened, his jaw tightening as he stepped forward and seized Helen''s arm with a bruising grip. His fingers dug into her skin, his voice a venomous hiss. "You belong to me, Helen." Helen froze for a moment, her breath catching at the sharpness of his tone. But then, lifting her gaze to meet his, her expression turned icy, her voice steady and cold. "No, Paris. I don''t." His teeth ground audibly as anger flared in his eyes. "Is that it?" he spat, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "Is it because of him? That mercenary, Heiron? Don''t tell me you fell in love with that weakling!" Read latest chapters at My Virtual Library Empire The accusation struck Helen like an unexpected blow, but she quickly recovered, her composure unshaken. She didn''t understand why he was dragging Heiron into this¡ªwhat purpose it served¡ªbut her lips curved into a soft, defiant smile. "Yes," she said simply, her tone laced with quiet strength. "I loved him." Paris''s grip tightened further, his fingers like iron bands around her arm. His face twisted with fury as he shouted, "He''s dead! He died a dog''s death on the battlefield! And now I''m here for you, Helen. I''m the one who''s alive! I''m the one who''s here!" Before Helen could respond, a sharp, mocking laugh broke the tense silence. Paris turned sharply toward Clytemnestra, who stood to the side with her arms crossed, her laughter cutting through his outburst like a blade. "What''s so funny?" he snarled, his eyes narrowing at her. "Nothing," Clytemnestra replied, smirking as she shook her head. "It''s just... if Heiron were still alive and standing here before you, you wouldn''t dare act so bold. You wouldn''t even try." Her words sliced through Paris''s bravado, leaving him momentarily speechless. His face flushed with anger and embarrassment. "What?!" he barked, his voice rising in disbelief and indignation. "She''s right," Helen said, her voice soft but firm, her gaze unwavering. "You could never compare to the man Heiron was." With that, she tore her arm free from his grasp, her movements resolute and final. Without sparing him another glance, she turned and walked away, her head held high. Paris stood frozen, his hands clenched into trembling fists at his sides. His nails dug into his palms as he watched her retreating figure, every fiber of his being brimming with frustration and fury. Chapter 293 Pariss jealousy A week had passed since the deaths of Chiron, Menelaus, and Paris. In their wake, the war between the Greeks and Trojans raged on, fiercer than ever. The Trojans had anticipated their enemies to be emotionally shattered, burdened by grief and uncertainty. Yet, to their dismay, the Greeks seemed anything but weakened. If anything, their resolve had solidified, becoming a cold and calculating force that sent shivers through Trojan ranks. Gone was the arrogance that had once characterized the Greeks¡ªthe swagger and hubris that so often preceded their downfall. In its place was a chilling determination, a gaze devoid of sentimentality, focused solely on the grim task of annihilating their foes. This unyielding resilience unnerved the Trojans. How could their enemies, battered by losses, rally with such vigor? It was infuriating, maddening even, to see them rise stronger from what should have been crippling blows. The Trojans clung to one hope: the realization that their opposition now rested on the shoulders of just two men¡ªAgamemnon and Odysseus. These were the last Greek leaders to defeat. Once they fell, the war would be over. Or so they believed. But the Greeks had no intention of making it easy. Their forces moved with newfound cohesion, no longer fractured by city-state rivalries. Spartan, Athenian, Mycenaean¡ªthose distinctions no longer mattered. All bore the same banner now: the banner of Greece. They had set aside their pride, their differences, and even their longstanding enmities. The Myrmidons, once Achilles'' fiercely independent warriors, now fought alongside the rest, unified in purpose. This unprecedented unity had not come easily. It was Odysseus, with his sharp wit and silver tongue, who had orchestrated it. He had seen the writing on the wall, understanding with grim clarity the danger that lay ahead. Achilles'' wrath had been a harbinger, a warning of what was to come. If the Greeks did not unite, they would surely fall. And so, Odysseus took on the mantle of leadership, delivering a speech that would resonate through the ages. Standing before the weary and disheartened Greek forces, he spoke not of glory or conquest, but of home. He reminded them of the families waiting for their return, of the lives they had left behind, of the dreams they had once cherished. He painted vivid pictures of their wives'' longing gazes and their children''s laughter, urging them to fight not for pride but for the chance to see those they loved again. His words struck a chord. Even the most hardened warriors found their spirits rekindled. For once, it was not Agamemnon who led them, but Odysseus, whose heartfelt plea transcended mere rhetoric. He became the voice of their collective longing, their shared desire to end the bloodshed and return to the lives they had sacrificed for this endless war. Odysseus himself was no stranger to that yearning. Each night, as he lay beneath the cold stars, his thoughts turned to Ithaca, to his wife Penelope and his son Telemachus. Their faces haunted his dreams, their absence gnawed at his soul. He longed to hold them, to hear their voices, to live the quiet life he had once taken for granted. And if that meant leading the Greeks to victory¡ªno matter how many battles or lives it cost¡ªhe would do so without hesitation. But the Greeks faced formidable opponents, each a force of nature on the battlefield. Chief among them was Hector, the pride of Troy. He had always possessed the aura of a warrior, but the war had shaped him into something far greater¡ªa legend in his own right, a man whose name would echo alongside those of Heracles and Achilles. His presence on the battlefield was commanding, almost invincible. No matter the odds or the number of enemies surrounding him, Hector fought with unparalleled ferocity, cutting down anyone who dared cross his path. He was not alone. Aeneas, the noble and steadfast warrior, stood at his side. Together, they formed the backbone of the Trojan resistance. They understood that the survival of Troy depended on them now more than ever. The days ahead felt finite, as if an unseen clock ticked closer to their end. Hector and Aeneas fought as though every moment mattered, as though their blades alone could hold back the tide of fate. Whatever doubts Paris may have harbored in the past had been washed away by the tide of blood and the raw power surging through his veins. He was stronger now¡ªstronger than he had ever been. No one could stop him. Not Hector, not Aeneas, and certainly not Heiron, even if the man miraculously returned from the grave. Heiron''s name was nothing more than a whisper in the wind now, a fading shadow of a memory. Paris sneered at the thought. Explore more stories at My Virtual Library Empire He clenched his sword tightly, his eyes burning with a mixture of arrogance and rage. Helen''s words still echoed in his mind, sharp and mocking. She had ridiculed him, belittled him, compared him to a man who no longer existed. But he would show her. He would force her to see the truth, to understand that he was the strongest, the savior of Troy, and the man who had risked everything for her. His plan was simple: he would kill Agamemnon, the man she so feared. He would crush the Greeks, ending the war in a display of his might that no one could deny. And when the dust settled, he would take Helen, claim her as his own, and leave no room for doubt in her mind. She would have no choice but to accept him, to bow before the man who had protected her, who had ended the war for her. She would realize that Paris was her savior, her conqueror, her one and only. While he was at it, he thought darkly, he would also deal with Clytemnestra. The sister who had joined Helen in mocking him, laughing at him, belittling him. She too would learn the truth. He would take her, break her, and make her understand that he was the only man worthy of reverence. Heiron? He scoffed at the name. Chiron was nothing. A pale shadow next to the blazing light of his greatness. Fueled by these thoughts, Paris moved like a whirlwind across the battlefield. His sword sang as it cut through flesh and bone, blood splattering across the ground in rivers. The screams of the dying were music to his ears, the sound of his dominance. He was unstoppable, a force of nature, slaughtering hundreds of Greeks with each swing of his blade. But even as he fought, his gaze was fixed on one man: Agamemnon. The Greek king stood at the edge of the battlefield, his expression unreadable, his presence commanding. Agamemnon had always been a symbol of Greek arrogance, a man who thought himself untouchable. Yet now, Paris noticed something different. The king was closer to the battlefield than before, his cold, calculating gaze fixed on the chaos before him. Paris smirked, his lips curling into a predatory grin. "You''re making things easier for me, King Agamemnon," he muttered under his breath. Without hesitation, he surged forward, his speed and determination cutting through the ranks of Greek soldiers like a hot knife through butter. He was a man possessed, his singular focus on ending the Greek king and claiming his victory. But just as Paris prepared to close the distance, a burst of golden light erupted in the center of the battlefield, blinding and brilliant. It was as though the sun itself had descended to earth, bathing the warring armies in its radiant glow. The light was so intense that even Paris was forced to halt, shielding his eyes with his arm as gasps and cries of astonishment rippled through both sides of the conflict. The brilliance lingered for several heartbeats before it began to fade, revealing a stunning sight that left everyone speechless. In the midst of the battlefield stood a golden carriage, its horses as majestic and radiant as celestial beings. But it was not the carriage itself that captured their attention¡ªit was the figure standing upon it. Paris''s breath caught in his throat. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, her presence as otherworldly as the light that had announced her arrival.@@@@ Chapter 294 Khillea Queen of Myrmidons The brilliance lingered for several heartbeats before it began to fade, revealing a stunning sight that left everyone speechless. In the midst of the battlefield stood a golden carriage, its horses as majestic and radiant as celestial beings. But it was not the carriage itself that captured their attention¡ªit was the figure standing upon it. Paris''s breath caught in his throat. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, her presence as otherworldly as the light that had announced her arrival.@@@@ Her long, fiery-red hair cascaded down her back, tied neatly into a ponytail that swayed gently with each step her horses took. It framed her face like a banner of war, a striking contrast to the sharp, golden eyes that burned with an icy, unrelenting intensity. Those eyes alone were enough to quiet the battlefield, commanding the attention of every soldier present. She was a woman, yet her presence exuded such raw, unyielding power that even the mightiest warriors, including Agamemnon, felt dwarfed by her aura. Agamemnon, his brows furrowing in confusion and disbelief, turned to Odysseus, who stood frozen, his face a mask of shock. "Who is she?" Agamemnon demanded, his voice cutting through the uneasy silence like a blade. Odysseus, unable to tear his gaze away from the figure before them, muttered under his breath, "Achilles..." "W...what?" Agamemnon snapped, certain he had misheard. He turned to Odysseus, whose mouth hung slightly open, his expression betraying an incredulity that mirrored the murmur now spreading among the soldiers. "It''s Achilles. She is Achilleus," Odysseus repeated, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and bewilderment. The words rippled outward, carried from one stunned soldier to the next. Gasps and whispers filled the air as disbelief took hold of the Greek ranks. Every pair of eyes locked onto the figure standing at the heart of the chaos. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" Agamemnon growled, his voice tinged with both disbelief and fury. But Odysseus shook his head, his tone resolute despite the madness of his claim. "It''s no joke. You feel it, don''t you? You''ve seen Achilles fight countless times. You know his strength, his presence. Look at her! You can''t deny it." Agamemnon turned his gaze back to the woman now identified as Achilles. Her presence was undeniable, as was the weight of her identity. The truth clawed its way into his mind, an unrelenting beast he could not banish. "Achilles... is a woman," he muttered under his breath, his words bitter and heavy with humiliation. Memories surged forth unbidden. The insults, the scorn, the endless comparisons to Achilles¡ªalways Achilles. The unyielding shadow of a warrior whose prowess had made Agamemnon''s own leadership feel hollow. And now this? The revelation that the thorn in his pride was no man but a woman? A fresh wave of anger surged through him, tinged with a humiliation so sharp it was almost unbearable. His teeth clenched, his jaw tightening painfully as his hatred for Khillea, for Achilles, burned brighter. A woman had mocked him, belittled him, eclipsed him. The thought alone was a dagger to his pride. But Agamemnon swallowed his fury for the moment, his gaze never leaving Khillea. She would pay for this insult, but not now. For now, the battlefield belonged to her. The Trojans who managed to slip past the Myrmidons'' unrelenting defense found themselves facing Khillea herself. Their fates were sealed. With a single, fluid swing of her lance, Khillea cleaved through dozens of men in an instant, their bodies crumpling to the blood-soaked ground. The lance moved as though it were an extension of her will, cutting through flesh and armor effortlessly. Blood erupted in crimson arcs, painting the battlefield with a grotesque artistry. Wherever she went, a trail of death followed, an unholy testament to her overwhelming power. To the Trojans, she was no longer human. She was a monster, a force of nature sent to annihilate them. The realization spread like wildfire through their ranks. The Achilles they had fought in the early days of the war¡ªthe one who had toyed with them, relishing the thrill of battle¡ªhad not been using even half his strength. That Achilles had been merely playing. But now? Now, Khillea was fighting in earnest, and the difference was staggering. This was the Achilles whispered about in fearful reverence. The strongest of the Greeks. The one favored by both Hera and Athena, goddesses who rarely agreed on anything. The stories had not exaggerated¡ªthey had fallen short. As Khillea moved through the battlefield, she suddenly felt the sharp hum of an arrow cutting through the air, its speed and precision a testament to its archer''s skill. A normal warrior might have struggled to avoid such a shot, but Khillea raised her golden shield without effort, deflecting the arrow with a metallic clang. Her golden eyes locked onto the source of the attack¡ªAtalanta. The famed huntress stood atop a rise, her bow still raised, her expression one of disbelief. Her lips parted slightly as though she couldn''t comprehend what she had just seen. On the other side of the battlefield, Hector watched the carnage unfold, his people being slaughtered like lambs before a lioness. His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to charge into the fray, to challenge Khillea and put an end to the slaughter. But as he took a step forward, a hand gripped his arm, halting him. It was Aeneas, his expression grim. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire "You can''t, Hector," Aeneas said, his voice steady but urgent. "She''s too strong. Even for you." Hector''s jaw tightened, his body trembling with the effort of restraining himself. He could see the truth in Aeneas''s eyes, but it did little to quell the fire of his anger. "She''s slaughtering them," Hector growled through gritted teeth. "And she''ll slaughter you too," Aeneas replied, his grip unyielding. "You''re not just a warrior, Hector. You''re the future of Troy. Don''t throw that away." "Still!" "You aren''t alone!" Aeneas shouted shifting his gaze toward Castor and Pollux rushing toward Khillea. Chapter 295 Khillea vs Castor and Pollux "Are you sure about this, brother?" Pollux''s voice carried a rare tension as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The two of them surged toward Khillea at a breakneck pace, the pounding of their horses'' hooves echoing like distant thunder across the battlefield. Castor glanced at him with a teasing grin, his confidence as unshakable as ever. "Are you worried, Pollux? About a woman, of all things?" he quipped, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. "She isn''t just any woman," Pollux replied, his voice sharper than usual. His grip on the reins tightened as his gaze flicked to their quarry.@@@@ Ahead of them, Khillea moved through the chaos like a specter of death, her every action precise and devastating. She dispatched her foes with an almost terrifying efficiency, cutting them down as if they were nothing more than blades of grass before a scythe. Each motion was deliberate, economical, and utterly devoid of hesitation. "I''m not blind, brother," Castor shot back, his tone more serious now as his gaze followed Khillea''s deadly path. "I see what she''s capable of. But if we don''t stop her, who will?" "Hector is here," Pollux said, his tone quieter, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to his brother. Castor barked a laugh, though it lacked his usual warmth. "Now you''re truly scared, aren''t you?" Pollux didn''t answer. His silence spoke volumes, far more than words ever could. Unlike Castor, Pollux bore the blood of Zeus, an inheritance he shared with their cousin Helen. It gave him heightened instincts, a sharper awareness of danger¡ªespecially danger that loomed over Castor. Deep down, Pollux didn''t just fear Khillea; he feared for Castor. Though his brother was formidable, even fearless, Pollux understood all too well the risks they faced. If he could help it, he wanted to keep Castor away from someone like Hector. As they drew closer to the carnage, Khillea''s gaze finally turned toward them. Both men felt the weight of her eyes like a physical blow. A chill crawled up their spines, their skin prickling with goosebumps as they faced the full brunt of her aura. It was an aura forged in blood and battle, the kind of presence only a warrior who had taken tens of thousands of lives could possess. Still, they were warriors too. With a shared look of unspoken determination, they urged their horses forward. The world seemed to blur around them as they charged toward Khillea, who stood like an unshakable pillar atop her chariot. Castor''s twin blades gleamed in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the dark storm brewing in Khillea''s eyes. Pollux followed close behind, his spear poised like a serpent ready to strike. Khillea didn''t flinch. With a flick of her wrist, her blade arced through the air to meet their assault. The steel of her sword clashed against Castor''s twin blades with a sound that reverberated like thunder. Sparks danced in the air, and Castor gritted his teeth as he felt the raw power behind her strike. She was stronger than anyone he''d ever faced. Pollux lunged from the side, aiming to exploit the momentary distraction. His spear shot forward with deadly precision, but Khillea''s reflexes were inhuman. Without looking, she shifted her weight and parried the spear with her armored forearm, the impact sending a shockwave through Pollux''s arms. "You should have listened to your brother," she said coldly. Her sword arced through the air, and Castor barely managed to duck under the strike. He rolled to the side, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire Pollux tried to rise, his body trembling with the effort. "Castor... run..." he rasped, blood dripping from his lips. "No!" Castor shouted, his voice breaking. "I won''t leave you!" Khillea''s eyes narrowed, and she moved toward Castor with purpose. He raised his blade, determination etched into his features. "If you want him, you''ll have to go through me," he growled. Khillea tilted her head, her gaze piercing. "So be it." The final clash was brutal. Castor fought with everything he had, his strikes wild and desperate. But Khillea was unstoppable. She parried his attacks with ease, her movements precise and deadly. Slowly, inexorably, she drove him back. In one swift motion, she disarmed him completely, his blade clattering to the ground. Castor fell to his knees, his chest heaving as he glared up at her. "Do it," he spat, defiance burning in his eyes. Khillea raised her blade, the sunlight glinting off the steel. For a moment, she hesitated, her gaze lingering on him. Then, without a word, she brought the sword down. Pollux screamed as he watched the blade pierce Castor''s chest. Blood spilled onto the ground, staining the earth beneath them. Castor''s body crumpled, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Khillea withdrew her blade and stepped back, her expression unreadable. Without wasting time, Khillea turned her sword toward Pollux, who lay groaning on the ground. Though he was hailed as the more invincible of the two brothers, the weapon she wielded was forged by Hephaestus himself, its blade shimmering with a divine brilliance that made mortals quiver in awe. She brought her sword down, intending to finish him, but her instincts screamed danger. With a swift motion, she twisted her weapon, deflecting an arrow aimed directly at her head. The projectile clanged off her blade, ricocheting harmlessly into the dirt. Khillea''s gaze snapped toward the archer, and there she saw her¡ªAtalanta, poised and resolute, her bowstring taut with another arrow ready to fly. "You again," Khillea muttered under her breath, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. Before she could make another move, the earth beneath her feet trembled slightly, and a shadow fell across her. Another warrior had landed between her and Pollux, her arrival marked by a dramatic flourish of her cape and the gleam of steel in her hands. The newcomer''s presence was commanding, her armor bearing the intricate designs of a queen and her eyes gleaming with battle-lust. "I''m glad to see another woman strong enough to stand against these arrogant Greek kings," the warrior declared, her voice laced with both amusement and challenge. Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons, grinned as she leveled her sword at Khillea. The blade glinted in the sunlight, its edge razor-sharp and eager for blood. Chapter 296 Khillea vs Penthesilea "I''m glad to see another woman strong enough to stand against these arrogant Greek kings," the warrior declared, her voice laced with both amusement and challenge. Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons, grinned as she leveled her sword at Khillea. The blade glinted in the sunlight, its edge razor-sharp and eager for blood. For a moment, silence blanketed the battlefield as two of the strongest women faced each other, their gazes locked in a contest of wills. The tension was palpable, the air heavy with anticipation. Then, without warning¡ª BADOOOM! An earth-shaking explosion of sound erupted as their swords collided. Sparks flew, and a fiery aura ignited around the clashing blades. Penthesilea, her muscles taut and strained, poured every ounce of her strength into her swing. Khillea, in contrast, held her flaming sword firm, her expression unyielding, as if she were merely holding back a storm with effortless grace.@@@@ Suddenly, Khillea''s sword roared to life with an intense burst of fire. Flames danced along the blade, forcing Penthesilea to leap back to avoid being consumed. The Amazon queen barely managed to dodge, but Khillea pursued her without hesitation, her weapon blazing like a meteor streaking across the battlefield. "You are quite fast!" Penthesilea grunted, gritting her teeth as she snatched another sword from the ground to intercept the fiery strike. BADOOOM! The impact released an inferno, fire spilling outward like a tidal wave. The sheer heat melted both of Penthesilea''s blades within moments, reducing them to slag. The flames licked at her arms, burning her flesh. Though she extinguished the fire quickly, the pain seared into her body, sharper than she had anticipated. She winced, her breath ragged, but her resolve did not falter. Penthesilea grabbed two more swords, bracing herself for another round. This time, she called upon her Amazonian magic, a unique spell designed to push her physical limits. Her body began to glow faintly, an aura of pure energy enveloping her. Her movements became faster, sharper, and more precise. Her aura erupted as she charged, closing the gap between her and Khillea in the blink of an eye. With a roar, Penthesilea swung both swords with incredible speed and force, aiming to overwhelm her opponent. Khillea barely had time to raise her golden shield, but when the weapons met it, the resulting shockwave was catastrophic. Soldiers and debris were hurled in all directions as the force of their collision rippled across the battlefield. Penthesilea''s arms screamed in agony, her muscles numb from the sheer power reverberating through her body. She grimaced, staring at the impenetrable golden shield. "What kind of shield is that?" she groaned, her voice laced with disbelief. Khillea didn''t respond. Instead, she swung her flaming sword again, aiming for a decisive blow. Penthesilea evaded the strike with a deft leap, twisting midair to land behind Khillea. She thrust both swords toward her opponent''s unguarded back with pinpoint precision. CRACK! The sound of breaking steel filled the air as both blades shattered on contact with Khillea''s enchanted armor. Penthesilea''s eyes widened in disbelief as fragments of her weapons clattered to the ground. "This is... unfair..." she murmured, her voice tinged with frustration. BADAAAM! Khillea responded with a brutal kick, her armored foot slamming into Penthesilea''s chest. The force of the blow sent the Amazon queen hurtling backward, crashing into the ground with bone-jarring impact. Penthesilea groaned, coughing up blood as pain radiated through her ribs. She felt several of them were fractured, the sharp sting with each breath confirming her suspicion. Lying on the battlefield, her vision blurred, she couldn''t help but admit the truth: Khillea was unlike any opponent she had ever faced. Her armor was impenetrable. Her sword was forged by gods. And even without these divine gifts, Khillea herself was an indomitable force. And then¡ªit stopped. The battlefield seemed to freeze in place. Khillea''s blade halted mere inches from Penthesilea''s neck, the flames licking at her skin but not burning her. Confusion flickered in the Amazon queen''s eyes as she dared to look up. Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire Khillea''s gaze was no longer on her. The warrior''s golden eyes, filled with intensity and purpose moments ago, had shifted elsewhere. Penthesilea followed her line of sight, her breath catching as her eyes landed on a lone figure standing amidst the chaos. The man had blond hair that shimmered like the sun, though it was matted with sweat and dirt. In his hand, he held a sword that glowed with an eerie, black radiance. There was something magnetic about him, an aura that seemed to demand attention even from a force like Khillea. Khillea''s grip on her weapon tightened as her lips pressed into a thin line. "Paris of Troy," she muttered with icy cold voice that sent shivers to everyone around. Of course, she knew him¡ªeveryone knew him. The prince of Troy, the man who had caused this entire war. And the man who had slain Patroclus, Achilles'' closest companion. Paris stood there, watching them, his expression unreadable. Yet, beneath his composed facade, there was a clear unease in his eyes. The ever-confident grin that usually graced Paris''s face was conspicuously absent. His usual air of self-assurance, the smirk that taunted both allies and enemies alike, had been wiped clean. He could feel it¡ªKhillea''s anger, raw and suffocating. Her presence radiated an inhuman power, a force so overwhelming it made his heart race in sheer terror. And then there was her gaze. Khillea''s golden eyes locked onto him, burning with a murderous intensity that pierced straight through his carefully constructed facade. Paris''s breath hitched as a shiver ran down his spine. He thought he knew fear¡ªhe had faced death countless times during this cursed war. Yet this was different. This was a fear that gripped him by the throat and refused to let go. Until now, there had been only two people in all his life who had ever truly frightened him. The first was Heiron. And now, there was Khillea. Paris swallowed hard, instinctively taking a step back. Then another. His movements were slow and cautious, as if any sudden motion might provoke the wrath of the furious warrior before him. Khillea noticed his retreat. Without a word, Khillea released her grip on Penthesilea, letting the Amazon queen crumple to the ground. Penthesilea gasped for breath, her body trembling from the aftershock of narrowly escaping death. But Khillea''s attention was no longer on her. It was on Paris. In a blur of motion, Khillea surged forward, her flaming sword leaving trails of light in its wake. Chapter 297 Khillea vs Paris Without a word, Khillea released her grip on Penthesilea, letting the Amazon queen crumple to the ground. Penthesilea gasped for breath, her body trembling from the aftershock of narrowly escaping death. But Khillea''s attention was no longer on her. It was on Paris. In a blur of motion, Khillea surged forward, her flaming sword leaving trails of light in its wake carving arcs of brilliance through the air as she advanced on her prey. Paris''s instincts screamed at him to flee, and he obeyed without hesitation, turning on his heel and sprinting away. "Stop her!" he barked over his shoulder, his voice tinged with desperation as he waved at the Trojans. The soldiers, loyal more to his title than the man himself, hesitated for only a fraction of a second before charging toward the oncoming storm. It was a futile effort. Khillea''s sword met the first soldier with an explosion of heat and light, cleaving through his shield as though it were made of parchment. The man barely had time to scream before he crumpled, his body consumed by the flames that danced along her blade. Another soldier lunged at her, his spear aimed for her heart, but she sidestepped effortlessly, bringing her sword down in a blazing arc that split him from shoulder to hip. The stench of burning flesh filled the air as Khillea continued her relentless advance. Paris ran, his lungs burning as he pushed his body to its limits. He could hear the screams of the Trojans men behind him, each one cut short by the ferocious warrior he had unleashed. Fear clawed at his chest, but he shoved it aside, focusing instead on survival. "Coward," Khillea snarled, her voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. "Is this you killed Patroclus? Running away and killing him from behind?" Paris gritted his teeth, her words stoking the embers of his pride. He hated her. Hated her for making him feel weak. Hated her for turning his carefully constructed image of divinity into a pathetic farce.@@@@ "Stop her!" Paris spat again. "Delay her! Kill her if you can!" The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, but their loyalty bound them to obedience. They formed a line, shields raised, spears leveled, their resolve wavering only slightly as Khillea''s fiery silhouette appeared at the mouth of the alley. She didn''t hesitate. Khillea''s first swing shattered the nearest shield, the force of the impact sending its wielder crashing into the wall of Trojans waiting behind. Her second strike carved through two more soldiers in a single motion, their bodies reduced to ash before they hit the ground. The remaining men broke ranks, panic overtaking discipline as they scrambled to escape the inferno that was Khillea. Paris didn''t wait to see the outcome. He darted out. He needed an escape, a way to put distance between himself and the vengeful warrior. But eventually Paris reached a wall of greeks warriors, spartans glaring at him. "No... no, no, no..." he muttered, spinning around. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, a dark blade that seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy. He drew it, the weapon''s black magic swirling around him like a living thing. The place darkened, shadows stretching and writhing as though alive, responding to the blade''s malevolent aura. Khillea''s hand trembled, her knuckles white from the unrestrained grip on her sword. Anger radiated from her in waves as she lifted the blade high, her intent clear. This was no longer a duel but an execution¡ªa reckoning. "No! Stop! No!! You can''t do this to me!" Paris wailed, his voice cracking as he raised his arms in a pitiful gesture of surrender. "I was chosen by the gods! THE GODS!!" But Khillea didn''t care. The weight of his pleas meant nothing to her. Her eyes, burning with a cold fury, remained fixed on him. Slowly, she lowered her sword, aiming for his heart. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire Before the blow could land¡ª BADOOOOM! A thunderous explosion rang out, and the clash of steel sent shockwaves through the air. The sheer force of it sent dust spiraling around them in a chaotic frenzy. Khillea''s blade had been stopped, deflected by another. Her gaze shot upward, locking onto the towering figure that had appeared before her. He stood there like a statue of war itself. Blond hair shimmered under the dim light, framing a face weathered by battle and responsibility. His muscular form, scarred yet regal, exuded an air of divine strength. Unlike the coward at her feet, this man''s presence was commanding, princely. His stern eyes held a glint of determination that seemed unshakable. Hector had arrived. "Brother! BROTHER! PLEASE SAVE ME!!" Paris''s wretched cries shifted instantly into elation, a desperate grin spreading across his face as he struggled to his feet. He clung to the faint hope that his older brother, the champion of Troy, would shield him from death. But Hector''s gaze wasn''t on Paris. It was fixed solely on Khillea. "Finally, we meet, Achilles... or should I call you by your true name?" Hector''s voice was deep, calm, yet edged with the weight of both expectation and regret. "Move," Khillea ordered coldly, her voice sharp as a blade. She had no interest in engaging him¡ªnot yet. Her target was Paris, and nothing would stand in her way. "I can''t." Hector''s tone was firm, unwavering. Her grip tightened on her weapon. "I will deal with you after I''ve killed Paris. Move." Her words came out even colder, laced with the promise of violence. She stepped forward, attempting to push past him, but Hector stood his ground, unyielding. "If you wish to take his life," Hector said evenly, his gaze hardening as he raised his sword, "you will have to go through me first." Khillea''s jaw clenched, her teeth grinding audibly. The fire in her chest burned hotter, her patience wearing thin. This was not a fight she wanted, not now. Yet, Hector''s calm defiance only stoked the flames of her wrath further. He regarded her with a tired, almost resigned smile. "Let us end this, Achilles." Chapter 298 Is it over? Nathan stood in the endless expanse of white¡ªa place devoid of time and space, where silence was both a comfort and a torment. From this strange, ethereal realm, he could see the war raging far below, as though peering through an invisible veil that separated life from death. His gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the chaos, the bloodshed, and the unrelenting cries of men and gods alike. But Nathan was powerless. He clenched his fists, the weight of his mortality settling heavily upon him. The realization was suffocating¡ªhe was dead. His presence here was a cruel limbo, a reminder that his fight was over while the world he had fought so hard to protect continued to spiral into turmoil without him. Yet, amidst the bitterness of his situation, there was a sliver of solace. He noticed that Medea, Scylla, and Charybdis had not succumbed to the madness that had once loomed so close to them. Their composure, though unexpected, was a small mercy in a storm of despair. "Aphrodite must have spoken to them," Nathan murmured, his white hair catching the faint, non-existent light of this place. His thoughts spiraled. What had she said to calm them? And more importantly, why were they still in Tenebria?With him gone, shouldn''t they have abandoned the city, fleeing to find their own paths now that their bond to him had been severed by death? He shook his head, banishing the questions that had no answers. Turning his focus back to the battlefield below, his piercing gaze landed on Paris. The Trojan prince stood tall amidst the carnage, his movements now imbued with a strength and confidence that had not been there before. His blows struck with precision, his aura radiating a dark power that unsettled even the most stalwart warriors around him. "What happened to him?" Nathan asked, his voice cutting through the void. He turned to the woman standing beside him, her black hair cascading down her back like a river of shadows. She seemed to belong here, her presence as timeless and enigmatic as the place itself. "A corrupt God found him," the woman replied, her tone light yet laced with an undercurrent of something ancient and knowing. "A corrupt God?" Nathan''s silver eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He tilted his head toward her, waiting for an explanation. But the woman only smiled, the corners of her lips curving upward in a way that felt both comforting and unnerving. "What do you think of him?" Nathan frowned, his gaze narrowing as he returned his attention to Paris. "Nothing. Without him, none of this would have happened." "Is that so?" Her voice softened, adopting a strangely sweet quality. "But without this war, you wouldn''t have met them¡ªAstynome, Kassandra, Atalanta, Penthesilea, and Helen..." Nathan''s jaw tightened at her words, but he couldn''t deny the truth of them. "Yes," he admitted finally, his voice quiet but steady. The warriors who had been locked in battle moments before ceased their fighting, their weapons lowering as they backed away. They dared not stand too close to the clash of titans. Even seasoned soldiers, hardened by years of bloodshed, found their breaths caught in their throats as they looked on. All at once, the chaotic battlefield fell silent, the attention of every man and woman drawn to this singular duel. For this fight would decide everything. The victor of this clash would determine the fate of the Trojan War. Greeks or Trojans¡ªone side would leave this battlefield triumphant, while the other would face ruin. Even the gods themselves turned their gazes toward the battlefield, their celestial forms watching the mortal struggle with bated breath. In Olympus, Zeus sat calmly upon his throne, his piercing eyes fixed on the scene below. Beside him stood Hermes, his expression unreadable, while others whispered amongst themselves. Yet one figure stood apart, tense with unease. Hera, arms crossed, clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. Though she wore the mask of a calm goddess, inside, she was restless. Still, she trusted Khillea¡ªtrusted her strength, her will, her destiny. Athena, too, watched, though she felt no apprehension. Her confidence in Khillea was absolute. For Athena, there was no doubt, no uncertainty. Hector''s defeat was inevitable. The goddess of wisdom merely wondered when the final blow would fall and how glorious it would be. On the other side, the gods who had sworn themselves to Troy wore grim expressions. Apollo, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Ares stood in somber silence, their divine forms unmoving. They had placed their faith in Hector, their chosen champion. Yet, bound by the ancient laws, they could not intervene. Whatever unfolded on that battlefield was beyond their reach. The gods would have to witness the result, powerless to change it. High above the battle, on the walls of Troy, the tension was unbearable. Andromache stood clutching her infant son, her arms trembling as she gazed at her husband below. Her heart was heavy with a foreboding she could not ignore. Every instinct screamed at her to run to him, to pull him back to safety. Yet, all she could do was watch. Beside her, King Priam and Queen Hecuba whispered prayers under their breath, their aged hands trembling as they clasped together. They begged the gods for their son''s safety, for his strength to prevail against the fierce warrior who now bore down on him. And yet, no prayers could soothe the despair in the heart of Kassandra. Standing atop the wall, her nails dug deep into the stone as she leaned forward, her fiery eyes locked on the battle below. Her shoulders shook with suppressed emotion. She had seen this moment long ago, the vision haunting her dreams. This fight had always been inevitable. Hector was destined to die. His fate had been sealed long before this day, and no force in heaven or earth could change it. She had tried to convince herself that the vision might be wrong, that her brother might escape death. The woman in golden armor from her nightmares had not appeared for so long that hope had flickered in her heart. But now, she stood before them¡ªthe warrior who bore the wrath of Achilles. Khillea. The sight of her sent a chill down Kassandra''s spine, her prophetic heart screaming that it was too late. The battle had already been decided. And yet, even knowing this, she could not turn away. None of them could. Chapter 299 Thana "Do you really think it''s over, Nate?" The voice that echoed through the abyss was sultry and laced with an almost teasing amusement. The Dark Goddess stood before Nathan, her lips curled into a knowing smile, her piercing eyes gleaming with mischief and something else¡ªsomething unreadable. In the void where Nathan now found himself, time and space felt warped, stretched thin like fragile silk. The sensation was eerie, yet strangely familiar. "It is," Nathan murmured, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "My body is gone¡ªreduced to nothing but ashes. I pushed myself beyond my limits. Khione and Aphrodite both warned me, yet I ignored them. I did it anyway." The Dark Goddess tilted her head, her dark tresses cascading over her shoulder like a curtain of midnight. "You lost your temper." Nathan''s jaw tightened. "What else was I supposed to do? Hera and Athena have interfered time and time again in the conflicts of mortals. Poseidon wasn''t even subtle about it¡ªhe openly used his divine power to hunt us down, to slaughter us like insects. How could I not be angry?" His voice was cold, the fury in his chest still simmering, refusing to be extinguished. The goddess chuckled softly, her laughter as delicate as it was haunting. "I think your anger was less about Poseidon''s interference and more about the fact that he was chasing after Khione," she mused, her voice dripping with amusement. Nathan stiffened at her words, a flicker of something unspoken flashing across his eyes. He exhaled sharply. "Maybe. But does it even matter anymore?" His fingers curled into fists, his knuckles white. "She''s dead." A sharp silence settled between them. Nathan''s certainty was unwavering. He had no doubts¡ªif he was dead, then Khione and Amaterasu were gone too. That was the rule. That was how the Forbidden Seal worked. But then, the goddess tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "She isn''t dead, though." Nathan''s breath hitched. His gaze snapped to hers, eyes wide with confusion. "What?" The Dark Goddess grinned. "Khione and Amaterasu aren''t dead. Why would they be?" Nathan felt his chest tighten. "That''s impossible," he said, shaking his head. "I used the Forbidden Seal on both of them. The contract is absolute. If I die, they die. That is the law of the seal." The goddess took a step closer, her presence cold and suffocating. "But you aren''t dead yet, are you?" Nathan faltered. His pulse¡ªif he even had one anymore¡ªpounded in his ears. "I''m dead. My body turned to dust. Nothing can surpass death. Even Apollo¡ªthe god of healing himself¡ªcouldn''t find a way to defy it." He turned his gaze toward the god in question, who stood in the distance, his golden aura dim, his eyes filled with the agony of watching his people fight a losing battle. Nathan''s voice softened. "He tried. For five months, he searched for a way to save me. He sacrificed his people, burned through his divinity, and yet... I still died." He let out a hollow laugh. "That''s all there is to it." The goddess leaned in, her breath ghosting against his ear. "Apollo did find a way, Nate." His body went rigid. "That''s the reason I''m here with you," she whispered. And before he could react, she pressed her lips to his. A violent shudder ran down his spine. Cold. A frigid, deathly cold that seeped into his very soul. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, an unnatural chill that coiled around his very essence. And yet, despite his lack of a physical body, he felt it¡ªfelt himself tremble beneath her touch. As she pulled away, a wicked smile adorned her lips, a gleam of something dark and ancient flickering in her eyes. Nathan swallowed hard, his breath unsteady. "Who... who are you?" The goddess licked her lips, savoring his reaction. Her grin widened, eerie and captivating all at once. "My name is Thanatos," she purred, her voice a siren''s call. Nathan felt the weight of the name settle over him like a death sentence. "You can call me Thana, Nathan." "Thana?" Nathan''s voice wavered as he spoke, his mind struggling to grasp the presence before him. Thana tilted her head, her lips curling into an enigmatic smile. "Do you wish to live again, Nathan? Or will you accept true death?" Her voice was neither cruel nor kind¡ªjust an undeniable force that demanded an answer. "I want to live," Nathan replied without hesitation, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment. Her smile widened, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth. "Then, you must give me your soul." Nathan stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. **"My soul?"** Instinct alone saved him. He raised his sword just in time, catching the strike before it split him in two. But he could not stop it entirely. A wave of searing heat erupted as Khillea''s flaming sword cut across his stomach, carving a deep, smoking wound. "Gahh!" Hector coughed violently, blood spilling from his lips. His strength drained away, darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. His body screamed for rest, for release. But even as his consciousness threatened to slip, he forced his arm to move. A final, desperate swing of his sword. But Khillea was faster. She leapt back, avoiding the strike with ease, landing gracefully on her feet. Her golden eyes bore down on him, watching as his trembling fingers lost their grip on his weapon. His sword slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground with a dull, final thud. Khillea exhaled, lowering her own weapon. "It''s over." Her voice was calm, almost... solemn. She lifted her sword once more, preparing for the final strike. "You were strong, Hector of Troy." And then, she swung down to end it. But in that instant¡ª Everything froze. A stillness fell upon the battlefield, unnatural and absolute. The air grew heavy, thick with an overwhelming presence. A silence so profound it seemed to smother even the sound of breathing. A chill¡ªsharp and piercing¡ªspread across the field, creeping into the bones of every warrior. It slithered through the air like an invisible specter, sending shivers down the spines of all who stood witness. Even Khillea felt it. Your next read awaits at My Virtual Library Empire For the first time, she hesitated. Something was coming. Something terrifying. Her instincts screamed at her to react. She shifted instantly, raising her golden shield just as an explosion echoed through the battlefield. Impact. An unseen force crashed into her shield with terrifying speed, the sheer force sending shockwaves rippling through her body. Her arm trembled under the impact, her fingers numb from the force that rattled her bones. And then¡ª She was sent flying. The mighty Khillea, the warrior who had dominated this battle without pause, was blown backward. The earth trembled beneath the explosion of power. Then, a second detonation roared through the air. Out of nowhere, a wall of ice erupted from the ground. Jagged, unyielding, impenetrable. The frozen monolith carved a divide between the Greeks and Hector''s wounded body, shielding him from all harm. The battlefield was stunned into silence. Hera''s eyes widened in disbelief. She stepped forward, gazing upon the impossible sight before her. "What is this...?" Athena moved beside her, her expression unreadable. But her sharp gaze flickered toward the figure standing amidst the icy aura beyond the barrier. A presence. A being hidden within the freezing mist, its form barely visible, its power undeniable. Both goddesses narrowed their eyes. And then¡ª The figure vanished and Hector''s body wasn''t there anymore. Chapter 300 He is alive?? The battlefield had fallen into a stunned silence. Nobody could quite grasp what had just happened. Moments ago, Khillea and Hector had been locked in a battle of legends¡ªa clash worthy of the greatest epics. The outcome had seemed inevitable; Khillea had dominated the fight, pushing Hector to his limits, and in the final moments, she had brought him down. Victory was in her grasp. But then¡ªsomething struck her. Something unseen, something terrifying. Most of the mortals had seen nothing. To them, it was as if an invisible force had intervened, hurling Khillea away like a mere doll before a titan. Only the gods had perceived it¡ªan icy aura, faster than the wind, had surged across the battlefield and struck Khillea with overwhelming force. And then, an enormous wall of ice had erupted from the ground, severing the Greeks from their fallen foe. Hector and the mysterious presence behind the freezing mist had vanished beyond it. The warriors on both sides could only stare, frozen in confusion and awe. "What... just happened?" Athena''s voice broke the silence, her wide eyes locked onto the towering ice barrier. The night had fallen, and with it, the battle came to an unceremonious end. The Trojans, still dazed by what had transpired, had already begun their retreat, marking the conclusion of today''s bloodshed. But Athena was not satisfied. She turned sharply toward Hera, her golden gaze searching for answers. "Where is he?! Where are they? Hera, do you see them?" But Hera didn''t respond immediately. She stood motionless, staring at the ice with an expression that sent a chill through Athena''s spine. Then, in a whisper, she spoke. "Do you feel it, Athena?" Athena frowned. "Feel what?" Hera''s fingers curled into a tight fist as she exhaled sharply. "Look closely at the ice. This... this is Khione''s ice." "Khione?" Athena''s brows furrowed. "Are you saying she''s responsible for this?" Hera shook her head. "No. It wasn''t her." Her voice wavered¡ªan unfamiliar uncertainty creeping into it. She hesitated before speaking again, but when she did, her next words sent a jolt through Athena''s chest. "I think... I saw Heiron." Athena''s body stiffened. Her head snapped toward Hera, disbelief flashing across her face. "What are you saying? Heiron is dead." "I know," Hera murmured, her gaze still fixed on the ice as if trying to confirm her own words. "But I swear, for the briefest moment, I saw him... yet he looked different. He wasn''t the same. He looked like Khione. And... he was using her power." A tense silence passed between them. Finally, Athena spoke, her voice laced with suspicion. "Khione disappeared a year ago. Do you think she has something to do with this?" Hera''s lips pressed into a thin line. "I don''t know." She clenched her fists tighter, her divine aura crackling with barely contained fury. "But if Heiron has returned... then he must be sent back to the underworld where he belongs." Athena exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "You''re imagining things, Hera. No mere mortal can return from death. Not even with Apollo and Aphrodite''s favor. Death is absolute." Your journey continues with My Virtual Library Empire Hera''s glare darkened. "I don''t know what I saw," she snapped. "But I intend to find out. And whoever is responsible for this... will be punished." With that, she vanished, her rage crackling in the air like a brewing storm. Hector should have died. Hector should have fallen, and with him, Troy would have crumbled within a week. Yet once again¡ªsomeone interfered. Across the room, Kassandra stood frozen, her mind caught between two warring emotions¡ªrelief and horror. Relief, because her brother was alive. Horror, because he shouldn''t be. She had seen it. The golden-armored woman had slain him¡ªshe had seen him die. And yet, here he was. The room buzzed with whispers. "Who... who saved him?" Clytemnestra was the first to voice the question lingering in everyone''s mind. What had carried Hector back? What was it? Her sharp gaze flickered toward Priam, searching for answers. Perhaps it had been some hidden trump card of Troy''s king? But Priam slowly shook his head. "I do not know." His voice was grave, heavy with the weight of uncertainty. "But whoever it was, they have saved not only my son... but the soul of Troy itself." "Saved?" Paris scoffed, his tone laced with suspicion. "What if this is a trick? What if this ''savior'' is our enemy?" A cold laugh rang through the air. "At least they were more useful to Hector than you were." Every head turned toward Helen. Paris stiffened, his lips parting in shock. "Helen¡ª" "Your brother fought to protect you, even as he lay dying." Helen''s voice was sharp, cutting through him like a blade. "And you hid behind him." Tears still glistened on her cheeks¡ªremnants of grief, of anger, of memories of her own brother, Castor, who had not been so lucky. "I... I was going to save him!" Paris stammered, but his voice wavered. Helen turned away, eyes filled with quiet contempt. She didn''t believe him. Neither did anyone else. A hush fell over the room. Polyxena, standing at the edge of the gathering, whispered under her breath, "I wonder who he is..." The moment she spoke, an unnatural chill seeped into the air. The grand doors of the throne room, bolted shut, groaned under an unseen force. A breath of frost curled through the gaps, slithering into the chamber like living mist. Aeneas was the first to react, his sword flashing as he leapt to his feet. Every warrior followed suit, hands gripping hilts, eyes darting toward the disturbance. The temperature plummeted. The torches flickered wildly before dimming, as though something had stolen their warmth. Then¡ªthe frost moved. It twisted, condensed, and began to take form. A silhouette emerged, standing amidst the swirling ice. A man. Chapter 301 REVEAL The temperature plummeted. The torches flickered wildly before dimming, as though something had stolen their warmth. Then¡ªthe frost moved. It twisted, condensed, and began to take form. A silhouette emerged, standing amidst the swirling ice. A man. As the icy aura gradually began to dissipate, a figure slowly emerged from the swirling frost. The once-blinding mist faded, revealing the contours of a man whose very presence exuded an otherworldly magnificence. His hair, pure as freshly fallen snow, cascaded freely behind him, each silken strand catching the dim light and shimmering with an ethereal glow. He was clad in a pair of obsidian-black pants that contrasted sharply with the pristine white tunic adorning his torso. A simple yet elegantly crafted belt cinched the fabric at his waist, accentuating his tall and imposing form. His skin was impossibly pale¡ªno, not merely pale, but luminescent, like polished marble untouched by the imperfections of mortality. It was the kind of pallor that spoke not of frailty but of divinity itself. Then, as the last remnants of mist dissolved into nothingness, his face came into full view. His lips, perfectly sculpted, held a quiet, unreadable expression. His nose was straight, noble in its structure, and then there were his eyes¡ªglistening pools of molten gold. But it was not their color alone that sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld him. At the center of each radiant iris was a thin, demonic slit, a stark contrast to the mesmerizing beauty that surrounded it. The unnatural pupils exuded a quiet menace, an authority so profound that even seasoned warriors found themselves frozen in place, unable to tear their gaze away. It was as if a god had descended upon them. "Who... are you?" King Priam finally asked, his voice cautious, laced with the weight of uncertainty. It was clear that neither he nor the others recognized the figure standing before them. How could they? This was not Heiron, at least not as they had known him. The man they saw now was a vision transformed, his disguise peeling away to reveal something far greater¡ªsomething incomprehensibly different. This was Nathan''s true form, the form he had taken after absorbing the divine energies of Khione and Amaterasu. Not a single soul present had ever witnessed him in this state before, and the drastic change in his appearance left them reeling. "H... Heiron?" The first to break the stunned silence was Astynome. Her voice trembled as she took an unsteady step forward, her breath hitching in disbelief. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire Since Heiron''s supposed death, Astynome had buried her emotions beneath an unyielding mask, feigning indifference even as grief clawed at her insides. The agony of loss had driven her to the precipice of despair more times than she could count. She had toyed with the idea of surrendering to oblivion, allowing herself to be consumed by the void, but something¡ªsome unshakable instinct¡ªhad kept her tethered to existence. She had never truly believed he was gone. Perhaps it was the blood of her father, Apollo, coursing through her veins, granting her a sixth sense that defied reason. She had seen Heiron vanish before her very eyes, yet deep within, something told her he was not lost¡ªnot completely. Astynome''s whispered utterance sent a ripple of shock through those gathered. The ones who reacted stronger were Atalanta, Kassandra and Helen. Every eye darted between her and the figure before them, searching for even the faintest trace of the man they had known. But they found nothing. "A lot has happened," he admitted, his expression unreadable. "My death was orchestrated by the gods who support the Greeks. They weren''t supposed to interfere in the war to begin with, yet they did so shamelessly¡ªensuring my demise." He let his words settle, watching the stunned expressions before continuing. "But the Trojan gods retaliated. They would not let such treachery go unanswered. They intervened... and brought me back." A collective silence fell upon the group, as if the very weight of his words had crushed their ability to respond. Atalanta, who had remained quiet up until now, finally spoke. Her usually sharp eyes were wide with emotion, and though she had been moved to tears, she had swiftly wiped them away, unwilling to show vulnerability. "The gods... brought you back?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it less real. Nathan met her gaze and gave a single nod. "They did." This only deepened the shock gripping the others. They had all heard countless stories of gods favoring mortals, bestowing blessings, lending their strength, and whispering prophecies... but this? This was beyond mere favoritism. The gods had not just supported him¡ªthey had defied the natural order, pulling him from the clutches of death itself. Such an act was unheard of, even among the greatest of heroes. Still, Nathan had no intention of dwelling on their reactions. He turned away from the stunned onlookers and directed his attention to Hector, whose unconscious form lay on the ground. His gaze softened as he looked at the battered warrior. "How is he?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he turned to Andromache. Andromache, still trembling with relief, clutched Hector''s hand as if afraid to let go. Tears streaked her cheeks, yet her lips curled into a faint smile as she nodded. "A-Alive... Heiron, he''s alive... Thank you... Thank you so much..." Her voice wavered, filled with boundless gratitude as she lowered her head in a deep bow, her shoulders trembling. Nathan frowned slightly and shook his head. "I wouldn''t let one of my few true friends die," he said, his tone firm. "There''s no need to thank me for that." Andromache lifted her head, her teary eyes brimming with appreciation. Even in the chaos of war, Hector had a true friend who would fight for him, and for that, she would forever be grateful. Aeneas, still processing everything, let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head in amazement. Though the reality of Nathan''s return still felt surreal, his words¡ªhis unwavering loyalty¡ªfelt undeniably real. However, not everyone shared their relief. Paris stood a short distance away, his hands clenched into tight fists, his jaw set in rigid anger. His entire body trembled, his expression twisted with barely restrained frustration. His gaze flickered toward Helen. She had not taken her eyes off Nathan¡ªnot even for a moment. The intensity of her focus, the silent awe in her gaze, made Paris''s blood boil. He turned away sharply, letting out a harsh scoff. "Must be quite convenient... to have gods on your side," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and stormed off, his rage barely contained. Nathan, however, remained utterly indifferent, as though Paris had never spoken at all. Whether he had truly acknowledged Paris''s presence or simply deemed him irrelevant was a question left unanswered. Chapter 302 Nathans goal "Must be quite convenient... to have gods on your side," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and stormed off, his rage barely contained. Nathan, however, remained utterly indifferent, as though Paris had never spoken at all. Whether he had truly acknowledged Paris''s presence or simply deemed him irrelevant was a question left unanswered. Priam released a weary sigh, his gaze following the figure of his son as Paris stormed away in silent fury. "Forgive him for his behavior," the Trojan king murmured, shaking his head. "Paris has always been... headstrong." Nathan merely nodded, his expression unreadable. In truth, he couldn''t have cared less about Paris''s tantrum. A year ago, perhaps, he might have retaliated with pettiness, just as he had with Jason and the others. But he had changed since then. He had learned, he had grown. Such trivial grievances no longer mattered to him. A lighthearted chuckle suddenly broke the lingering tension. "Kassandra, my dear, don''t you think you''ve embraced him long enough?" Queen Hecuba teased, her warm gaze settling upon her daughter. Kassandra flinched as if struck, immediately stepping back with an embarrassed flush coloring her cheeks. It was unbecoming of a princess to act so freely, yet neither Priam nor Hecuba seemed to mind. On the contrary, they both bore gentle, knowing smiles. Their daughter, once burdened by sorrow and plagued by her cursed visions, now stood before them with renewed light in her eyes¡ªa light that hinted at something deeper. Affection? Love? Hecuba wondered, but she did not voice her thoughts. "We are delighted to see you alive once more, Heiron," Priam spoke again, his tone laced with genuine relief. Then, with an amused chuckle, he added, "Or should I call you Lord Commander? Perhaps Nathan or Samael?" Nathan allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his lips before it faded just as quickly. "No, you may continue to call me Heiron," he answered. "I revealed my real names to you because I find it exhausting to continue lying. However, I would prefer if my true identity did not reach other ears." Though his words carried a note of caution, his voice was so cold, so eerily composed, that it seemed as if he did not truly care whether the gods uncovered his identity or not. There was an unsettling indifference in his tone, a quiet defiance that sent a shiver through those who listened. Priam studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Then we shall honor your wishes and continue calling you Heiron." But despite the relief of his return, one question lingered in the king''s mind, a question that troubled him deeply. "But... are you still willing to fight for us?" he asked, his voice betraying his uncertainty. "You gave your life for the Trojans once. Are you truly prepared to risk it again?" "We all wish for that outcome," Priam admitted with a weary sigh, the weight of years and war pressing heavily upon his shoulders. His once-proud frame seemed burdened by exhaustion, his voice carrying the quiet fatigue of a man who had witnessed too much suffering. He studied Nathan for a moment, his gaze lingering on the young warrior''s expression¡ªdistant, unreadable, as if his mind were elsewhere. Something about him felt different, though Priam could not quite place what it was. With growing concern, he asked, "Heiron, do you have something prepared to eat? You should regain your strength before concerning yourself with anything else." Nathan turned his gaze toward the Trojan King and offered a small nod. "If you could have it sent directly to my room, that would be best." His voice was steady but detached, as though the physical world held little significance to him at the moment. Priam nodded in understanding. There was something strange about the young man before him¡ªhe seemed almost ethereal, like a figure that had walked the line between life and death and returned changed. Yet, whatever had happened, he owed him too much to pry. Instead, he simply bowed his head slightly in gratitude. "Once again, Heiron, I must thank you for saving my son," Priam said solemnly. "He is the future of Troy. Without him, our people would have lost all hope." Nathan gave him a slight nod in acknowledgment, then turned without another word, making his way toward the exit. Aeneas, who had been standing near Hector, took a final glance at the wounded prince before quickly following after Nathan. His footsteps were light but eager, his curiosity evident in the way he studied the man beside him. "How are you feeling?" Aeneas finally asked as they walked. Nathan''s fingers curled into a fist, flexing instinctively. A surge of raw energy coursed through him¡ªhis body no longer felt broken, no longer weak or hindered by past wounds. Instead, he felt renewed, almost as if he had been reborn into something stronger, something more powerful than ever before. "Good," Nathan replied, his grip tightening briefly as he tested the strength within him. His muscles felt denser, his body more responsive. Every movement carried an effortless precision, a stark contrast to the pain and exhaustion he had once endured. Aeneas chuckled, though there was a hint of unease behind his laughter. "Man, you look different," he admitted, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "Just looking at you gives me chills." Nathan glanced at him, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips. "You''ve changed a lot too. You seem much stronger than before." Aeneas exhaled sharply, crossing his arms as his expression turned more serious. "I had to," he admitted. His gaze darkened, memories flashing through his mind. "After you... died, everything changed. Hector, Atalanta, Penthesilea, Helen''s brothers¡ªwe did what we could. We held the line, somehow. But it was difficult." His fingers curled into fists, as if recalling battles fought in desperation, moments when they had been on the brink of collapse. Nathan reached the door to his chambers and stepped inside. Before closing it, he turned back to Aeneas, his gaze steady and filled with quiet certainty. Find your next adventure on My Virtual Library Empire "Don''t worry," he said, his voice carrying an unmistakable sense of finality. "I''m here now." Then, without another word, he shut the door behind him.@@@@ Chapter 303 The Godss rewards After Nathan retreated into the solitude of his room, he moved with slow, deliberate steps toward the center of the chamber. A deep breath filled his lungs as he closed his eyes, shutting out the world around him. In an instant, he felt the familiar pull of displacement, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in a vast expanse of white¡ªa space devoid of walls, ceiling, or floor. It was the same ethereal plane he had visited before, where he had once stood in the presence of Aphrodite, Artemis, and Apollo. This time, however, the gathering had grown. Ares was there as well. The god of war crossed his arms over his broad chest, his crimson cloak billowing slightly despite the absence of any discernible breeze. His expression twisted into one of mild irritation as his sharp gaze flicked to Apollo, brimming with incredulity. "I can''t believe you brought him back, Apollo," Ares scoffed, his deep voice tinged with disbelief. "Do you even realize how many rules you''ve broken? Our father will strike you down if he learns of this." His tone was one of accusation, yet there was a flicker of curiosity beneath his words. Apollo, standing with his usual air of confidence, merely smiled. There was no trace of concern in his eyes.@@@@ "I didn''t bring him back," the sun god clarified, his voice calm. "I merely sought help to save Nathan before his life could be extinguished. His body was already beyond repair, so a new one was necessary. That was all. Once his vessel was replaced, he was healed." Artemis, who had remained silent until now, narrowed her green eyes, suspicion flickering across her elegant features. "And whom did you seek out for this so-called help, brother?" she asked, though it was clear she already had a hunch. Apollo did not hesitate. "Thanatos." The name sent a palpable wave of unease through the gathered gods. "Thanatos?!" Ares'' composure shattered as he gaped at Apollo, his voice rising in sheer shock. "How in the Underworld did you manage to get that crazy goddess to agree?!" The reaction was expected. Thanatos¡ªthe Goddess of Death¡ªwas a being shrouded in fear and enigma. Among all divine entities across pantheons, she was known to be one of the most unpredictable and dangerous. Even Zeus himself refrained from interfering in her affairs. Capricious, elusive, and utterly indifferent to the laws that bound the rest of the gods, Thanatos did as she pleased. She held dominion over the boundary of life and death, and if there was any deity capable of breaking the fundamental laws of existence, it was her. Of course, no power came without a price. What that price was, no one could say. And yet, Apollo had dared to approach her. Apollo met Ares'' incredulous stare without wavering. "I had to argue my case for a long time. In the end, I convinced her by showing what Heiron had accomplished in this war... Or rather, should I say¡ªwhat Nathan Parker had accomplished?" A pregnant silence followed as Apollo''s piercing gaze shifted toward Nathan. Nathan, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice steady and resolute. "I am here for the Skills you have promised me." The reminder stirred a flicker of recognition in Ares'' eyes. He had, indeed, made such a promise along with Artemis and Aphrodite. Now that Nathan stood before them, fully restored, it was time to fulfill their end of the bargain. "Oh, yes, we did promise him that," Ares muttered before straightening. His expression hardened with determination. "I am a man of my word." Extending his hand, Ares unleashed a surge of crimson divine energy. The radiant glow enveloped Nathan entirely, wrapping around him like a living flame. Nathan remained unfazed, only the slightest twitch of his eyes betraying his reaction. "I have granted you my Roar of War," Ares declared, a smirk tugging at his lips. "With it, you will fight like a God of War on the battlefield. But be warned¡ªuse it wisely, and do not overextend yourself." Next came Artemis. Stepping forward, she raised her hand, and a wave of green divine magic cascaded over Nathan. As the energy seeped into him, his vision sharpened instantly. The world around him became strikingly clear, and for the first time, he could perceive the immense reservoirs of mana and magic coursing through the gods standing before him. Their power was truly terrifying. "I have given you my vision," Artemis proclaimed, her voice calm yet firm. "Nothing shall escape your eyes. Use it in moderation, and you will be able to see even the most distant of targets¡ªand strike them down from afar." Then, Aphrodite stepped forward. Unlike the others, she closed the distance between them, her gaze smoldering with amusement. Without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Nathan''s lips. Ares scowled in open disapproval, but held his tongue, assuming this was simply Aphrodite''s method of bestowing her gift. "I have given you my charm, Nate," she murmured with a teasing smile. "With it, none shall be able to resist you. But I advise caution¡ªit is always active. Unless you suppress it, women from every corner of the world will flock to you, drawn like moths to a flame." A warm pink glow enveloped Nathan as Aphrodite''s power settled within him. The moment the energy took hold, Artemis felt an involuntary shiver course through her body. The sheer potency of his newfound charm was overwhelming, forcing her to avert her gaze lest she succumb to its effects. Sensing the immediate impact, Nathan swiftly suppressed the ability, bringing it under control. "Since everyone else has given you a gift, I will do the same," Apollo interjected, his amusement evident. Striding forward, he gently placed a hand upon Nathan''s head. Nathan''s body glowed with a golden radiance¡ªthis was not just a mere skill but something far more profound. As the divine energy coursed through him, Nathan felt an entirely new force awaken within him. Apollo stepped back, his signature smile in place. "Now, you can wield my Light Magic." Chapter 304 Helens happiness [Nathan Parker] Lvl 505 4567 4208 5400 18 886 10 054 20 477 668 Skills: [Divine-Rank: Forbidden Seal],[Divine-Rank: Death Curse], [Divine-Rank: Aphrodite''s Charm], [SSS-Rank: Eye of Odin], [SS-Rank: Roar of War], [SS-Rank: Vision of Artemis], [C-Rank:Deep Voice], [C-Rank: Stealth Cap]. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Nathan sat on a worn wooden bench in the open courtyard, bathed in the golden glow of the morning sun. The air was crisp, carrying with it the distant sounds of soldiers preparing for battle¡ªyet today, no war cries echoed, no steel clashed. The aftermath of Hector''s near-death encounter had left both sides in an uneasy truce, as if even the gods themselves held their breath, waiting for what would happen next. The Greeks had been especially shaken, bewildered by his sudden appearance on the battlefield. Whispers of his power had spread like wildfire among their ranks, their once-unshakable confidence now laced with uncertainty. As he leaned back against the bench, a cool breeze ruffled his white hair. He exhaled softly and brought up his stats, his sharp eyes scanning the glowing interface that floated before him. It had been a while since he last checked them, and in that time, everything had changed. The numbers before him were almost absurd. Each of his stats had skyrocketed, reaching levels that would have been unimaginable just days ago. Thousands upon thousands¡ªno temporary boosts, no artificial enhancements¡ªthese were his new, permanent abilities. A frightening realization, even for him. His gaze shifted to his Skills. Some had vanished, lost to the hidden costs of his meteoric rise in power. A drawback, no doubt, but nothing he couldn''t accept. What he had gained far outweighed what he had lost. Two SS-rank Skills. And then, the true prize¡ªAphrodite, ever so indulgent, had graced him with a Divine-Rank Skill, a gift befitting the goddess of love and beauty. He had expected no less from her. Yet, that was not all. Another Divine-Rank Skill now rested in his arsenal, one that sent a shiver down his spine even as he read its name. [Divine-Rank: Death Curse]. Thanatos herself had bestowed this upon him, a reward for the soul he had willingly placed in her hands. A weapon forged in the depths of death itself. A trump card against beings far beyond the realm of mortals¡ªagainst gods. But such power came with a price. Just like the Forbidden Seal, this skill, too, was restricted by a charge bar, a limit imposed on what could only be described as an overwhelming cheat. Not that he minded. If it were freely usable, it would hardly be fair. Nathan''s attention then drifted to his LUCK stat. 20,000. A number so ridiculously high that it seemed almost comical. Then again, considering how many times he had cheated death, perhaps it was only natural. He had Thanatos'' favor, the blessing of the very goddess who governed the cycle of life and demise. And then there was Aphrodite¡ªher influence had played no small role either, especially when it came to his CHARM stat. Receiving a Divine-Rank Skill from the goddess of love was bound to have its effects. Not that he wanted to be overwhelmed by it. With a thought, he instinctively suppressed Aphrodite''s gift to its minimum output. Even he knew better than to let such an ability run wild. Power was one thing. Influence, especially of this nature, was another entirely.@@@@ Nathan closed his stats window with a flick of his fingers and looked ahead. Tomorrow, everything would end. Nathan could feel it in the air¡ªthe weight of inevitability pressing down on him like a silent storm on the horizon. Tomorrow, he would face Khillea, and tomorrow would mark the final day of this war. No matter what, he would ensure that outcome. As he sat there, lost in thought, a faint presence brushed against the edge of his senses. Someone was watching him. He didn''t need to turn around to know who it was. "No. You just tasted happiness for the first time. There''s nothing wrong with that." Helen turned to him, her gaze searching his face. There was hesitation, something unspoken lingering in her throat before she finally voiced it. "I... am angry at Khillea because she killed Castor, but... I think I''m also jealous." "Jealous?" Helen swallowed hard. "Y...yes." She hesitated before asking, "When did you meet her?" "During the war. When I infiltrated the Greek camps," Nathan answered honestly. Helen''s fingers curled tightly against the fabric of her gown. "You fell for her during the war?" "I did." "I... see." Helen''s voice wavered, her expression shadowed with something he couldn''t quite place. "She is... yes, beautiful and charming. More than me." You have nothing to envy her for, Helen." Her lower lip trembled. "T...then why?" She bit down on her hesitation before forcing the words out. "Why didn''t you come to me?" "Come to you?" "Y-yes..." Helen''s voice was small, uncertain. "Even though we lived in the same place, you fell for someone so far away. But I... I was the closest to you. And still, I wasn''t enough... is that it?" Bitterness laced her words, and for the first time, she looked utterly fragile. Nathan exhaled and met her gaze with quiet intensity. "You were more than enough," he said, his voice firm. "You have been since the day I saw you." Helen''s breath caught. "Then..." she hesitated, as though gathering every ounce of courage in her body. Her trembling fingers reached for his hand, grasping it hesitantly. "I... I want you," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I want to be with you." As soon as she spoke those words, Nathan moved. He closed the distance between them and captured her lips in a kiss. Helen''s eyes widened in shock, but she didn''t retreat. A soft, muffled gasp escaped her as warmth spread through her entire body, setting her nerves ablaze. Her lips trembled under his touch before she surrendered completely, pressing into him. Nathan deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against her soft lips before slipping inside. His hands roamed downward, tracing the curves of her body through her gown. Helen shivered, arching slightly as heat pooled in her stomach. "Mmhgnn~~" A muffled moan escaped her as his hand slid up, cupping her breast through the delicate fabric. They were full, soft, big enough to be unable to fit in his grasp as he kneaded them. A haze of desire clouded his mind, urging him to rip away the barrier of clothing between them¡ªto claim her entirely. But just as his fingers tightened around the silk of her dress, a piercing gaze snapped him back to reality. Nathan didn''t need to turn around to know who it was. Paris. The cowardly prince stood behind a pillar, his expression twisted with murderous hatred as he watched the scene unfold before him. Yet, despite the sheer rage in his eyes, he didn''t dare to attack. Nathan smirked against Helen''s lips before finally pulling away. Helen sat breathless, her lips swollen, her chest heaving. A dazed, heated expression lingered in her half-lidded eyes as she gazed at him. Nathan ran a hand through her golden locks, his smirk deepening. "After the war," he murmured, "you will be mine." Helen shivered at his words. "Haa... y-yes~" she whispered breathlessly, surrendering completely. And in the shadows, Paris seethed. Enhance your reading experience by removing ads: Remove Ads Now Chapter 305 Nathan vs Khillea! (1) The sun rose over Troy, painting the sky with hues of gold and crimson, its brilliance unmatched as it cast long shadows over the battlefield. It was another day of relentless war, another day where the clash of steel and the cries of the fallen would echo across the blood-soaked plains. Yet, despite the routine brutality of the conflict, something about today felt different¡ªan unseen force lingered in the air, thick with an indescribable tension. A chilling unease settled over both the Greeks and the Trojans, an unshakable premonition whispering in their minds. It was a feeling of dread, as if the gods themselves had descended to observe the carnage about to unfold. Every warrior, hardened by years of battle, could sense it¡ªa day that would be remembered for centuries, a day that would decide the course of history. Their hands trembled not from fear of death but from the weight of what was to come. It was as if destiny itself had drawn them to this moment, and so, on this fateful day, both sides resolved to fight with everything they had. For the Greeks, hope burned bright in their hearts, rekindled by the arrival of a legend. Khillea, the warrior whose name now resounded through their ranks, stood at the forefront, her golden armor gleaming under the morning sun. The Myrmidons, her loyal warriors, no longer questioned the truth they once struggled to accept¡ªKhillea was Achilles, the strongest warrior in this accursed war. They no longer cared that she was a woman, for to them, she was Achilles, their invincible leader, their harbinger of victory. With her at the helm, their spirits soared, and their blades thirsted for battle. Meanwhile, across the battlefield, the Trojans, who had been gripped by despair since the loss of their great warrior, now found themselves standing taller, their morale surging like a tide. Heiron had returned. They had seen him die¡ªhis body turning to ashes, disappearing entirely. And yet, there he was, standing among them once more, his presence igniting a renewed fervor in their hearts. It was impossible, yet undeniable. His resurrection could only be the work of the gods, a divine sign that they had not abandoned their city. Heiron was not merely a man who had defied death¡ªhe was a symbol, the chosen champion who would lead them to triumph. For the Greeks, however, his return was nothing short of a nightmare. "It cannot be him!" "No... Look at them! They are calling his name!" "I saw him die! His corpse lay on this very ground!" "Hades has returned him to the living! He is an omen of our doom!" Fear spread through their ranks like wildfire, the unshakable belief that Heiron had been sent by the gods to smite them down. If the heavens had granted him life once more, then what hope did they have? And indeed, Heiron was changed. He no longer bore the weariness of mortality; instead, he radiated an otherworldly presence, his once-battle-worn features now sharpened with an almost divine perfection. But they did recognise his demonic gold eyes. The ones most shocked by Heiron''s literal resurrection were none other than Agamemnon and Odysseus. Agamemnon was beyond stunned. It was him¡ªhe felt it in his very bones. That hateful man, the one he thought had been erased from existence, had returned, and the mere presence of Heiron sent an unnatural chill running down the spine of the King of the Greeks. He refused to accept the feeling of dread creeping through his veins, yet there it was, undeniable and suffocating. "How is this possible..." he muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper. Odysseus, standing a short distance away, could only stare in utter disbelief. His sharp eyes locked onto Nathan, watching as he moved across the battlefield with near-divine speed, slaughtering Greek soldiers by the hundreds. At this moment, Nathan resembled a true Demigod, a force of destruction unleashed upon them. His sword descended like a judge''s final verdict. Khillea barely managed to intercept the blow, her golden sword meeting his in a furious clash. The collision sent another massive shockwave rippling through the battlefield, cutting through the very wind itself. The ground beneath them trembled, cracks spiderwebbing outward from the sheer force of their exchange. They remained locked in place, staring into each other''s eyes, neither willing to yield an inch. Then, without warning, Khillea''s magic flared to its peak. A blinding surge of fire and light erupted around her, engulfing Nathan in a radiant inferno. The flames raged, swallowing everything in their path, their golden brilliance searing through the battlefield. She leaped back, watching intently, expecting him to struggle against the purifying flames. But then¡ª A chilling presence seeped through the light, snuffing out the flames like a winter storm quenching a candle. The fire dissipated as frost consumed the air, revealing Nathan once more, standing unscathed within a protective barrier of ice. His cold, calculating gaze locked onto hers as he slowly raised his hand. From his palm, an enormous lance of ice materialized, its edges sharp enough to slice through steel with ease. With a mere flick of his wrist, the frozen projectile shot forward at blinding speed. Khillea barely had time to react. She braced herself, raising her shield once more. BADAAAAAM! The lance shattered against her defenses upon impact, but the force behind it sent her skidding several meters backward. Her boots dug into the ground as she struggled to regain her footing, her heart pounding. As she lifted her gaze, her breath caught in her throat. Nathan was already there. His leg shot forward in a brutal kick, striking her shield with monstrous force. BADOOOOM! The impact was devastating. The sheer power behind the blow forced her back once more, her arms numb from the reverberation. Yet, even as she staggered, she recovered quickly, her instincts sharpened by years of battle. With a burst of light, she propelled herself forward, her golden sword gleaming as she swung at him with divine fury. Nathan met her charge head-on, his ice-cloaked sword flashing in response. Fire and ice collided, clashing in a dazzling explosion of light and frost, the battlefield trembling beneath the sheer magnitude of their battle. Chapter 306 Nathan vs Khillea! (2) The most breathtaking and ferocious battle since the onset of the Trojan War was unfolding upon the bloodstained fields of Troy. Warriors, nobles, and even the gods themselves bore witness to a spectacle that defied mortal comprehension. The clash of titans had begun. On one side stood the mightiest warrior of Greece, the unparalleled Queen of the Myrmidons and ruler of Phthia¡ªAchilles, though known by her true name, Khillea. Draped in a resplendent golden armor that shimmered like the sun itself, she was a vision of divine fury. A golden sword, wreathed in searing flames, danced in her grip with deadly precision, while a shield, embossed with the glory of Hephaestus'' craftsmanship, was clasped tightly in her left hand. Every movement of hers was a blur of celestial light, her divine speed turning her into a golden streak across the battlefield, an embodiment of war itself. Her opponent was none other than Nathan, and though no tales had sung of his exploits before, none could now deny his place in legend. The air around him crackled with a chilling frost, the ground beneath his feet hardened by an unnatural cold that seemed to devour warmth itself. Each swing of his weapon sent out frigid gusts that clashed against Khillea''s golden inferno, creating a mesmerizing cyclone of ice and flame. Sparks erupted, frost bloomed, and golden fire roared, their battle an intricate dance of opposing forces locked in an eternal embrace. How long had they fought? Hours? Perhaps only moments? Time had lost all meaning in the presence of such a duel. Those who bore witness did not care¡ªthey longed for this battle to last an eternity. The very earth quaked beneath them, the heavens seemed to tremble. Even the gods, so often indifferent to mortal affairs, stood silent. Their eyes, accustomed to divine conflicts, widened in disbelief as they watched the battlefield unfold below. Ares, the god of war himself, could not suppress his astonishment. His voice, uncharacteristically uncertain, broke the heavy silence. "A-Apollo... what in the name of Olympus did you do to him?" Ares asked, his usual bravado absent, replaced with sheer incredulity. He had expected Nathan to be formidable, yes, but this? This defied all reason. Nathan was not merely holding his own against Achilles, he was matching her strength for strength, strike for strike, without so much as a faltering breath. It was unthinkable. Ares had, in the depths of his mind, fantasized about Achilles'' defeat before¡ªbut only at the hands of Hector, and even that had required an impossible miracle. Yet Hector had failed. The strongest warrior of Troy had fallen, crushed beneath the unstoppable force that was Achilles. And now... now Nathan stood where Hector could not, matching Achilles as an equal. No, as a superior. Even Artemis, ever composed and enigmatic, narrowed her eyes in contemplation, turning toward her twin. There was something about Nathan''s movements, his overwhelming power, that left even her questioning the nature of his strength. "Brother," she said softly, her voice laced with suspicion. "Did you interfere? Did you bless him with something?" The golden-haired god chuckled, his radiant eyes glinting with amusement. "I did nothing," Apollo replied, the faintest smirk playing at his lips. "This... this is all him." The battle raged on, and as the echoes of their clash reverberated across the battlefield, a new legend was being written in fire and ice. "How is that even possible?" Artemis murmured, her green gaze locked onto Nathan as he fought. Something about him had changed. His aura was different¡ªhis stance unwavering, his eyes calm yet carrying an unsettling chill. And yet, as he clashed with Khillea, there was no intent to kill in his gaze, no murderous hunger behind his strikes. It was almost as if he were testing himself, rediscovering his own strength. Regardless, Artemis was certain of one thing¡ªhe had not been this powerful before. "T-This can''t be possible..." Hera whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. Her wide eyes remained locked on Nathan as he moved effortlessly across the battlefield. "What kind of man has Khione summoned?" Athena muttered beside her, a deep frown etched onto her face. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire This... This was beyond anything she had ever seen before. Yes, there had been extraordinary heroes in the past¡ªthose summoned by Khione''s previous efforts. Some had been remarkable, even verging on the level of legends. But none¡ªnone¡ªhad ever reached this level of strength in just a single year. Of course, the third class of summoned heroes had its standouts. Sienna, for instance, was incredibly talented, her prowess undeniable. And Courtney¡ªshe had proven to be surprisingly strong, displaying a potential that even Athena had not expected. But Nathan... Nathan was something else entirely. He was in another dimension altogether. And it perplexed Athena to no end. Summoned heroes were supposed to come from a peaceful world, untouched by war or divine interference. How, then, had a man from such a place grown into a warrior of this caliber? How had he become so powerful, so ruthless, so instinctively brilliant in battle? What kind of past had forged him into this relentless force of nature? Clearly, he had not grown up in a normal environment to reach this level of strength and mentality. Athena had keen eyes for talent, and she recognized an unfathomable gift within Nathan right now. It felt as if he had no limits. A tinge of regret flickered across Athena''s eyes. "If only I had noticed him..." she mused, thinking back to the day when all of Khione''s heroes were summoned. That day, she had not even spared Nathan a glance, nor had she cared. In the end, he had died¡ªjust another casualty, felled by some random demon, or so she had heard. But she knew better. The Divine Knights had played a role in his death. And now, Athena was certain of one thing¡ªthe Divine Knights were going to regret, perhaps more than they could possibly fathom, having ever antagonized Nathan...because she was sure Nathan was someone remembering and holding grudge. Chapter 307 Nathan vs Khillea! (3) "Why is Zeus not doing anything?!" Hera''s voice thundered across the sky above the Trojans grounds, her rage barely contained as she watched the battle below. Her fingers clenched into tight fists, her knuckles turning white. Another hour had passed, and yet Nathan was still standing, still fighting¡ªmatching Khillea blow for blow with a tenacity that defied all logic. A sense of dread settled deep in her chest, an instinctual warning that something was not right. She had a bad feeling¡ªno, a terrible feeling¡ªabout all of this. "What do you expect Zeus to do?" Athena asked with a weary sigh, her expression calm but thoughtful as she observed the ongoing clash. "Kill him, of course!" Hera spat, her frustration reaching a fever pitch. "This human is dangerous! He must be eradicated before he grows into a threat we can no longer control!" Athena merely shook her head, the golden glow of her eyes reflecting the chaotic battle below. "I don''t think my father will intervene." Hera''s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with disbelief. "Why not? He is clearly a menace, and we don''t even know how he attained such strength. He''s dangerous, Athena. You of all people should see that." Athena folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "My father has already returned to Olympus," she said slowly, "and yet he has not spoken a single word about Nathan. That silence speaks volumes." Hera''s breath hitched, and she took a step forward, her frustration mounting. "Are you saying... Zeus can''t do anything?" She sounded dumbfounded, as though the idea was too ludicrous to be real. "He is the King of Olympus! The ruler of all gods!" Athena met her gaze, her expression unusually tense. "That may be true, but even my father has limits. There are some gods and goddesses... even he cannot control." For the first time, doubt flickered in Hera''s eyes. The very thought that someone could stay Zeus''s hand, that a divine force existed beyond his reach, unsettled her. She could only assume that a god¡ªor perhaps a goddess¡ªhad taken a special interest in Nathan. And whoever they were, they were powerful enough to silence Zeus himself. Hera clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The thought infuriated her, but she could do nothing about it. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the battle, watching, waiting. She still had faith in Khillea. There was no way she could lose¡ªHera knew her strength better than anyone. She had seen her triumph over impossible odds before. She would not lose. And yet, the battle had escalated beyond anything they had expected. The clash of power had reached a terrifying crescendo. Nathan and Khillea moved at such speeds that they had become little more than blurs of motion, their blows striking with such force that the very air trembled. Even Agamemnon, the self-proclaimed leader of the Greek forces, could no longer follow their movements. Khillea''s entire body burned with golden flames, each flicker of light pulsing with divine might, turning her into a radiant warrior bathed in the brilliance of the gods. Opposing her, Nathan stood wreathed in ice, an unnatural cold radiating from his form. The very ground beneath his feet had frozen solid, tendrils of frost creeping outward, cracking and consuming the earth in a deathly embrace. Those standing behind him shivered, feeling the creeping touch of his unnatural chill against their skin. Khillea exhaled sharply, golden mist escaping her lips. Her piercing gaze locked onto Nathan''s, her body humming with unrestrained power. And yet... she hesitated. Why? She had sworn to eradicate all Trojans. She had burned with vengeance ever since Patroclus fell, her grief an unquenchable fire in her soul. And yet, as she looked into Nathan''s icy, determined gaze, she felt... doubt. It was as if he wasn''t fighting with everything he had. As if he was holding something back. A strange, unfamiliar feeling curled in her chest. Why does it feel like her hatred is fading? She shook the thought away, gritting her teeth. It didn''t matter. She had to go past him. She had to reach Paris, the coward cowering behind Nathan. He was the one who had slain Patroclus. And she would not rest until she buried her spear in his heart. Khillea raised her sword high, her golden eyes gleaming with unshaken resolve. She took a slow breath, steadying herself as divine power coursed through her veins. Then, in a voice filled with determination, she whispered: "Celestial Dual Magic." At that moment, the air around her ignited with an overwhelming surge of power. Blazing golden flames erupted from her body, intertwining with pure, radiant light. The two forces, both celestial in nature, spiraled into a massive vortex of raw energy, their brilliance so intense that the battlefield was momentarily bathed in a blinding glow. A hushed awe fell over the onlookers. Even the gods watching from Olympus fell silent. Celestial Magic alone was a force few mortals could wield, but to harness two celestial elements in unison¡ªfire and light¡ªwas a feat only those with the rarest of divine talents could achieve. Such a technique placed Khillea''s strength just beneath that of the gods themselves, an unfathomable power that only the chosen few in all of history had ever attained. Nathan, standing across from her, remained unfazed. His sharp demonic gaze met hers. Khillea''s heart pounded in her chest. This was the strongest opponent she had ever faced. He was the warrior she had long dreamed of battling¡ªthe one worthy of testing the limits of her strength. From the moment she had left her homeland for Troy, she had known that if she were to meet her end, it should be at the hands of an opponent of unparalleled might. With a fierce roar, Khillea tightened her grip around her golden sword, her entire being consumed by an infernal blaze. The flames and light surrounding her intertwined into something even greater, something divine. She met the approaching ice sword head-on. With all the strength of a warrior who refused to fall¡ª She swung. BADOOOOOOOOOOM!!!! The heavens themselves seemed to split apart as the two demigod-like forces clashed. The resulting shockwave tore through the battlefield, uprooting even the strongest warrior, shattering the ground, and sending tremors rolling through the earth. The sheer magnitude of the collision sent an aurora of fire and frost spiraling into the sky, painting the heavens with a battle between two warriors whose strength defied the very limits of mortality. The battlefield was silent. A thick cloud of dust and debris hung in the air, obscuring the aftermath of the devastating clash between fire and ice. The lingering echoes of their attacks rumbled in the distance, as if the world itself had yet to recover from the impact. The ground was scarred, fissures spreading outward like veins of destruction. The very air crackled¡ªhalf searing hot from Khillea''s flames, half deathly cold from Nathan''s frozen aura. Nobody could see what had happened. And then¡ª As the dust began to settle, two figures stood amidst the wreckage. Nathan and Khillea. Both warriors were still standing, though their bodies bore the toll of the battle. Blood trickled down Nathan''s forehead, staining the white strands of his hair. Across from him, Khillea stood firm, but her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. A crimson trail ran down the side of her face, mingling with sweat and soot. Though both had suffered injuries, it was clear¡ªKhillea had taken the worse of the exchange. Yet, despite her state, her grip on her sword never wavered. For a moment, there was only silence between them, the distant sounds of war fading into an eerie stillness. Then, Nathan did something unexpected. He spoke. "Khillea." Her eyes widened. The way he said it¡ªso certain, so familiar¡ªit sent a jolt through her heart. How? Find your next adventure on My Virtual Library Empire How did he know? Few, if any, knew her true name. Though her identity as a woman had been exposed, she had never spoken her real name to another soul since stepping onto the battlefield. To most, she was simply Achilles, the warrior of unmatched strength, the relentless avenger of Patroclus. And yet¡ªNathan had called her by name. As if he had known her all along. She clenched her teeth, forcing down the whirlwind of confusion that threatened to consume her. Her eyes sharpened, but before she could speak¡ª Nathan took a step forward. "Let''s stop this," he murmured. He met her gaze, his gold demonic eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent an unfamiliar chill through her body. And then, he said something that shook her to her very core. "For our daughter." Chapter 308 Convincing Khillea "Let''s stop this," he murmured. He met her gaze, his gold demonic eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent an unfamiliar chill through her body. And then, he said something that shook her to her very core. "For our daughter." Khillea froze in place, her entire body rigid as Nathan''s words sank in. For our daughter? Had she misheard him? No... he had said it clearly, without hesitation. The weight of those words pressed down on her, making her heart pound in her chest. Her breath hitched. It couldn''t be. "N...Nathan?" she finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and raw emotion. She had thought him. Lost. Erased from the world. She thought he would never come back anymore to her. The man standing before her looked different. Completely different. His presence was overwhelming, his strength undeniable. His very existence now exuded a power that seemed to defy all reason. Yet... as she stared into his face, listened closely to the cadence of his voice, something stirred deep within her. It was him. It had to be. Nathan''s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, as if he understood exactly what was going through her mind. "It''s really you?" she asked again, her fingers trembling at her sides. His expression softened, but his voice carried a weight of regret. "I am," he said solemnly. "I regret that I wasn''t there... when our daughter was born. When Patroclus died." The name Patroclus sent a violent shudder through Khillea. Her fists clenched, her entire body stiffening as a surge of grief and fury clawed its way to the surface. Yes. That''s right. Patroclus. Her rage had a purpose. Her grief had a name. No matter who stood before her¡ªno matter if it was Nathan himself¡ªshe would not abandon her revenge. "I don''t care," she said, forcing down the overwhelming storm of emotions threatening to break through her composure. Her voice was cold, controlled¡ªher sword arm steady, despite the chaos within. "Let me pass." Nathan''s gaze hardened instantly. "No," he said firmly. "I won''t let you throw your life away in some senseless, suicidal revenge." Khillea''s head snapped up, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Senseless?" Her voice cracked with fury. "You have no idea what I felt for Patroclus! He was the only family I had in this cursed world!" Her body trembled¡ªnot in weakness, but in the overwhelming power coursing through her veins. Magic surged outward, crackling in the air. Flames erupted. Her sword ignited once more, its searing light bathing the battlefield in an ominous glow. The fire coiled around her body, wrapping her in a blinding aura of vengeance. Nathan, however, didn''t flinch. He remained still, his silver-white hair barely shifting in the wind as he met her fury with a gaze of unshaken resolve. "I know," he said quietly. His voice was steady, yet heavy with meaning. "I didn''t speak to him much, but I knew one thing for certain." Nathan''s eyes softened, but only slightly. "He cared about you. More than anything." Khillea''s grip tightened around her sword. Nathan continued. "And he would never¡ªnever¡ªhave wanted you to die like this." She felt her breath catch, just for a moment. But the anger was still there. "In vain?" she spat back. "You think this is in vain? You don''t understand anything, Nathan. We are going to win this war." Nathan shook his head, his expression darkening. "This isn''t about the war anymore, Khillea," he said, voice now ice-cold. "You and I both know that." She opened her mouth to protest, but his next words struck like a blade to the heart. "I''ve slept with you twice," Nathan continued, his voice measured yet unyielding, "and I''ve spoken with you enough to understand who you really are. You''re not doing this for strategy, for victory, or for the Greeks. You''re doing this because you think you have nothing left." Khillea''s breath hitched. "After you kill Paris, after you cut down whoever remains in your path¡ªyou won''t stop. You''ll keep fighting. Keep slaughtering. And then one day... you''ll die. Not as a warrior. Not as a hero. But as a broken puppet in the middle of Trojan soil, discarded without a second thought." His eyes, colder than she had ever seen them, pierced straight through her. "And I refuse to let that happen." A heavy silence fell between them. Khillea stood frozen, her mind at war with itself. Her flames flickered, their rage momentarily shaken. Nathan wasn''t pleading. He wasn''t begging. He wasn''t even trying to convince her with words of comfort. He was declaring. Khillea''s grip on her sword tightened as she glared at Nathan, her breath ragged with emotion. Was he really going to stand in her way? A gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled straight into his arms. And then, before she could even begin to struggle¡ª Nathan wrapped his arms around her. A firm, unrelenting embrace. Khillea''s breath caught in her throat. Her flames flickered. Her entire body tensed. But she didn''t push him away. Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire For the first time since this battle had begun¡ªshe didn''t know what to do. "You don''t have to fight anymore," Nathan whispered, his arms tightening around Khillea in a gentle embrace. His voice was calm¡ªsteady¡ªlike an unshakable force amidst the storm raging within her. Khillea trembled, feeling the warmth of his presence. His strength. His unwavering certainty. For so long, she had fought alone. Pushing away everyone, believing that no one could ever truly stand by her. But now... Nathan was here. "You don''t have to feel lonely either," he murmured against her ear. "I''ll be there with you. Let''s raise our daughter together. Like a family." Khillea''s breath hitched. A family. A real family. Tears welled in her eyes as her hands hesitantly rose. And then, for the first time in what felt like forever¡ªshe let herself believe. Her fingers clutched onto Nathan''s back as she hugged him in return, her hold light at first, but then¡ªtighter. She wasn''t alone. Not anymore. Nathan chuckled softly. "Do you want Patroclus to see us fighting? He''s already seen us naked and fucking¡ªthis would be the last straw for him." Khillea blinked. Then, unexpectedly, a laugh escaped her lips. It was soft¡ªshaky¡ªbut real. She smiled against his shoulder, hugging him even closer. Nathan let her. Finally, she accepted him. Finally, she chose to live. And that choice alone¡ªthat one thought¡ªwas enough to shatter the fate she had once believed was unchangeable. But just as the warmth of their embrace settled¡ª A sharp, searing pain tore through Nathan''s back. His body jerked. A cold sensation spread through his spine. Khillea''s eyes widened. Something was wrong. She felt it¡ªthe tension in his muscles, the sharp hitch in his breath. Her hands trembled as she reached behind him. And then¡ªwarmth. Blood. Her fingers came away soaked in crimson. Her heart stopped. She looked up. And then¡ª She saw him. Paris stood before them, his sword dripping with Nathan''s blood. A twisted, deranged smirk stretched across his face. He had stabbed Nathan''s back from behind taking both of them off guard. Chapter 309 Pariss judgement Khillea''s hand trembled violently, her fingers slick with the warm, crimson essence of life¡ªNathan''s blood. Her breath hitched as she stared at the glistening scarlet staining her palm, a stark and damning proof of yet another tragedy at the hands of Paris. First, he had stolen Patroclus from her, wrenching away the one she cherished as a brother. Now, he dared to strike again, this time trying to take Nathan¡ªthe only light left in her darkened world, the one tether keeping her from spiraling into despair. Her vision darkened, rage surging through her veins like a relentless storm. A sinister aura seeped from her form, thick and suffocating, like the weight of impending doom itself. The temperature around her seemed to drop, the air turning frigid with the sheer force of her wrath. Paris, who had been so sure of his victory, felt an unnatural chill creep up his spine. His instincts screamed at him¡ªdanger. With a sharp intake of breath, he yanked his sword free from Nathan''s back, crimson droplets splattering across the battlefield, and swiftly leapt away, creating distance between them. His hands clenched around the hilt of his blade, but even he couldn''t suppress the creeping tendrils of fear that wrapped around his chest. Khillea''s legs tensed, ready to launch herself at him and tear him apart for what he had done. But before she could make her move, a gentle touch against her hair stopped her in her tracks. "N...Nathan! Are you okay?! I will call Asclepius! He will heal you!" Khillea''s voice cracked with desperation. Her mind was frantic, the thought of losing Nathan unbearable. She had finally found a reason to live beyond war, beyond vengeance. And if that was ripped from her... she would be lost. Lost to madness, lost to the abyss of despair she had barely climbed out of. If she had to drag Asclepius to his knees and force him to heal a Trojan warrior, she would. If she had to defy the gods themselves, she would. Nothing mattered anymore except Nathan and the future they could have. Yet, to her disbelief, Nathan merely smiled¡ªcalm, unfazed, as if Paris''s attack had been nothing more than an inconvenience, a fleeting discomfort rather than a fatal blow. His golden eyes shimmered with amusement, tinged with something even deeper¡ªabsolute confidence. Paris''s blade had been no more than a mere mosquito bite to him. Pain? He had endured agony beyond comprehension. He had suffered wounds far worse than this¡ªtortures that shattered lesser men, trials that should have claimed his life a thousand times over. A stab in the back from Paris? It was nothing. It was laughable. Even as the Greeks gawked in disbelief, the gaping wound on his back was already closing, flesh knitting itself together at an unnatural speed. The corruption meant to spread through his body dissipated instantly, as if it had never been there. "I...Impossible!" Paris stammered, his face pale with horror. "This sword was given to me by a Corrupt God! You should be dying!" Your next chapter is on My Virtual Library Empire His voice trembled, unable to reconcile what was happening before his eyes. That blade had slain heroes, struck down warriors who should have been untouchable. And yet, Nathan stood there, completely unharmed, untouched by the power that had been meant to end him. Poor Paris. He had no idea. Nathan''s body had long since become something beyond human limits. The darkness that once threatened to consume him had instead become his strength. And now, with light magic coursing through him as well, there was no force of corruption that could claim him. With certainty, Nathan gently cupped Khillea''s face, lifting her gaze away from Paris and back to him. "Look at me, Khillea," he said, his voice steady, soothing. "The war will be over soon. Leave the rest to me and watch." Khillea''s rage melted into something else entirely. Her lips quivered, her breath shallow as she gazed into Nathan''s unwavering eyes¡ªso full of power, of promise. Overcome, she surrendered to the overwhelming emotions surging within her and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a desperate, passionate kiss. The man who was, in every sense, Hector''s truest friend. Priam''s face bore the expression of a father whose hope had finally withered, a man watching his own son succumb irredeemably to disgrace. He stood tall, his regal bearing unwavering, but the disappointment in his gaze was unmistakable. It was not the disappointment of anger, but of resignation. Paris was lost to him. Beside him, Queen Hecuba''s lips trembled as she fought to contain the pain welling up within her. More than anyone, she suffered in this moment. Her daughter, Kassandra, had foreseen this since childhood. She had warned her, pleaded with her¡ªsend him away, never allow him to remain in Troy. He will bring its downfall. And yet, Hecuba had clung to her love as a mother, ignoring the dire prophecy. Now, Troy stood on the precipice of ruin, its survival hanging by a fragile thread, and all because of Paris. Each passing day could be the city''s last, and the near loss of Hector had been yet another wound inflicted upon them by his selfishness. Now, to make matters worse, Paris had just attempted to strike down the very man who had saved them all¡ªNathan, wielding magic beyond their understanding, magic powerful enough to rival the wrath of gods themselves. It wasn''t only Priam and Hecuba who bore the weight of this realization. The entire city of Troy had turned against Paris. Their gazes, once filled with admiration for the prince, now radiated nothing but cold contempt. Among them stood Aeneas, his strong jaw clenched in barely restrained fury. His fingers twitched against the hilt of his sword, itching to end Paris''s disgrace himself, but he knew it was not his place. Paris, trembling with frustration and desperation, suddenly erupted, his voice hoarse with anger. "Don''t you dare look at me like that!!" he shouted, his body quaking. "I-It''s all because of him! Because of you, Heiron! You should have never come to Troy! You stole Helen! You corrupted her mind with your tricks!" Nathan tilted his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and pity. "Stole?" he repeated, a mocking lilt in his voice. "She was never yours to begin with." Paris''s eyes burned with unbridled rage. Without hesitation, he lunged, his corrupted magic swirling around him like a storm of malevolence. He swung his sword, aiming to sever Nathan''s head from his shoulders. But Nathan barely moved. With effortless grace, he sidestepped the attack and drove his fist deep into Paris''s abdomen. The breath fled from Paris''s lungs in a strangled gasp, his body doubling over in agony. Before he could recover, Nathan twisted his wrist, disarming him with a swift, brutal efficiency. The corrupted sword flew from Paris''s grasp, landing far beyond his reach. Now defenseless, Paris staggered, his arms wrapped around his midsection as he groaned in pain. But he refused to yield. The corruption surged through him, forcing his broken body to rise once more. BADAM! "Grugh!!" Nathan with a slap that resounded like a punch sent Paris rolling on the ground pathetically. Nathan had disgusted gaze. He had no desire to dirty his hands with the blood of such a pathetic guy. Paris wasn''t worth the effort. "Heiron." The deep, steady voice of Hector cut through the tension. The Trojan champion strode forward, his bronze armor gleaming despite the battle-worn dents and scratches marring its surface from the battle of a day ago. Despite the deadly state he was in, he plunged once more in the war right after. Nathan turned to face him, his expression unreadable. Hector met his gaze with solemn determination. "Please," he said, his voice steady. "Let me handle my brother." Nathan looked Hector for a long moment before speaking, his tone carrying the weight of an unspoken warning. "Hector, he has gone too deep. You understand what that means, don''t you?" There was no hesitation in Hector''s response. "I know," he said, gripping the hilt of his sword with firm resolve. "Don''t worry, Heiron. I will do what must be done." Chapter 310 Agamemnons corruption Nathan''s eyes darkened. He studied Hector for a long moment before speaking, his tone carrying the weight of an unspoken warning. "Hector, he has gone too deep. You understand what that means, don''t you?" There was no hesitation in Hector''s response. "I know," he said, gripping the hilt of his sword with firm resolve. "Don''t worry, Heiron. I will do what must be done." Hector strode forward, his steps measured and firm, until he stood before Paris. His younger brother glared at him with unbridled hatred, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. For a long moment, Hector simply observed him, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh that carried the weight of disappointment and sorrow, he spoke. "You have fallen very low, Paris." His voice was steady, but the pity in his eyes was unmistakable. "SHUT UP!!" Paris roared, his voice cracking under the pressure of his own fury. "What do you know about me?!" Hector''s gaze remained unwavering, piercing through his brother''s rage like a blade through soft flesh. "I know that you don''t care about Troy," he said, his tone cold and sharp. "You only care about Helen¡ªnot as a person, not as a woman with her own thoughts, her own will¡ªbut as a prize, something you stole and refuse to let go of." Paris''s body tensed, his nails digging into his palms. "I also know that you resent Heiron," Hector continued, each word dripping with ice. "That you''ve always envied him. That deep down, you wanted him dead. And today, you finally acted on that hatred. You tried to kill him." "He is a stranger!" Paris spat, his voice shaking. "A stranger?" Hector scoffed, his lips curling in disdain. "A stranger who has saved Troy countless times. A stranger who has saved my life on multiple occasions. A stranger who is the very reason Troy still stands." His voice grew sharper, cutting through the thick tension between them. "And yet, what have *you* done for Troy, Paris? What have *you* given, besides dragging a war to our doorstep? You, who have offered nothing but selfishness and ruin?" Paris''s body trembled, his breath ragged with fury. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!" His screams were near hysterical, raw with desperation and blind rage. Then, something shifted. A suffocating darkness erupted from him, swallowing his entire body. It wasn''t mere shadow¡ªit was something deeper, something wrong, something reeking of malice and corruption. His form twisted within the writhing blackness, his features obscured save for his eyes¡ªtwo burning crimson orbs, gleaming with murderous intent. "I WILL KILL YOU ALL...." His voice was no longer entirely human. It was guttural, beastlike, laced with a feral hunger for destruction. With a snarl, he lunged at Hector, his speed inhuman, his movements like a predator finally unleashed. Hector did not hesitate. His grip tightened around his sword, and in an instant, his weapon erupted with radiant light. The golden glow bathed his armor, illuminating his resolve. He met Paris head-on, his blade swinging forward in a brilliant arc, prepared to strike down the brother who had already crossed the point of no return. Nathan observed the scene from afar, his expression impassive. A single glance told him everything he needed to know. Hector had already made up his mind. He had chosen Troy over family. He had chosen duty over blood. And Hector had chosen to do it himself. It wasn''t just about honor¡ªit was about perception. It would not do for Nathan, the so-called savior of Troy, to be the one to strike down a Trojan prince. That responsibility had to fall on Hector''s shoulders. He understood this well. But truthfully, Nathan had no desire to waste his time on someone like Paris anyway. Let Hector do what needed to be done. And let Paris reap the consequences of his own downfall. As the chaos of battle raged around them, Khillea suddenly approached, her presence commanding yet filled with an undeniable warmth. Without hesitation, she grasped Nathan''s arm and pulled him into a kiss, her lips pressing against his with a mixture of urgency and affection. "I will order the Myrmidons to retreat," she whispered against his lips, her breath warm and fleeting. Then, slowly, Agamemnon lifted his head. His abyssal gaze, now devoid of any semblance of humanity, locked onto Nathan with an unnatural intensity¡ªlike a predator honing in on its prey. His soulless black eyes shimmered with malevolence, an endless void of seething hatred. The moment his eyes met Nathan''s, every soldier standing between them instinctively took a step back, fear gripping their hearts. A primal, unspoken understanding coursed through them¡ªthis was no longer their king. This was something else. Something monstrous. But Nathan stood firm. Unmoved. Unfazed. A twisted grin curled Agamemnon''s lips, his expression a grotesque mockery of amusement. "Giihihiih!" A chilling, guttural chuckle erupted from his throat, warped and distorted like the voice of a man who had long since lost his sanity. His mouth twisted as he spoke, his words slow and dripping with venom. "I... will... kill you... with my own hands. I will rip your limbs apart, tear your flesh while you still breathe... You will suffer for what you''ve done to me..." Nathan remained still, his golden eyes unblinking as he stared down the maddened king. He could feel the sheer, overwhelming hatred radiating from Agamemnon¡ªa hatred so deep it had utterly consumed him. Even in this monstrous state, Agamemnon remembered everything. Nathan had humiliated him. He had taken Astynome and Briseis from his grasp, robbed him of his spoils of war. He had set fire to his ships, severing his path of retreat, stripping him of his control. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire For Agamemnon, a man who prided himself as the King of all Greeks, such disgrace was unforgivable. He would not could not accept it. With a deafening, guttural roar, Agamemnon launched forward. "GRAHH!!" In an instant, his massive form disappeared from sight, vanishing in a blur of terrifying speed. Then BADOOOM!! The earth split apart beneath him as his colossal blade came crashing down. The sheer force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, shattering stone and soil alike. Tremors surged outward, knocking surrounding soldiers off their feet as dust and debris exploded into the air. Agamemnon''s wild gaze searched through the destruction, his bloodthirsty grin widening. But Nathan was nowhere to be seen. BADAAM!! Before Agamemnon could react, a devastating force slammed into his back. Nathan''s boot connected with his massive frame like a thunderbolt, sending the monstrous king hurtling forward. His enormous body crashed into the ground, rolling violently across the shattered battlefield, carving trenches in the earth with every impact. A moment later, he rose to his feet, his monstrous form towering once more. His eyes burned with unrelenting fury as he snapped his head toward Nathan. There, standing amidst the swirling dust, was Nathan¡ªcalm, composed, and untouched. His expression was devoid of amusement now, his golden eyes cold as winter steel. A slow smirk played at the edges of his lips as he raised his sword. "Let''s end this, Agamemnon." Chapter 311 Nathan vs Agamemnon "Let''s end this, Agamemnon." Nathan kicked off the ground, his movements swift and precise, as he drew his black demonic sword. A chilling aura trailed behind him, an ominous mist of icy energy that crackled in the air. His target was clear¡ªAgamemnon, the towering warrior who stood defiantly, exuding a newfound and unsettling strength. Agamemnon raised his sword, a weapon he had stolen from Paris, though it no longer resembled its former self. The blade was now darker, broader, pulsating with a malevolent energy that twisted the air around it. A sinister black aura emanated from its edge, almost alive, as if whispering promises of destruction. Despite his massive frame, Agamemnon moved with shocking speed, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Nathan reacted instantly, bringing up his sword to block the incoming strike. The clash sent a deafening shockwave rippling through the battlefield, forcing him to skid backward, his feet carving deep grooves into the earth. The force behind Agamemnon''s attack was monstrous¡ªfar beyond what a mere mortal should possess. He wasn''t a Demigod, yet he had reached their strength, all thanks to Paris''s corrupted sword. Nathan wasted no time. He tightened his grip on his weapon and slashed through the air. "Celestial Ice Magic." A massive lance of ice materialized before him, thick, jagged, and gleaming with divine frost. Its sheer presence caused the surrounding temperature to plummet, and a mist of frozen vapor spiraled outward. With a mere flick of his blade, Nathan sent the icy projectile hurtling toward Agamemnon at breakneck speed. Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire The gods watched in stunned silence. Celestial Magic¡ªused with such ease, such mastery. It was as if Nathan had become one with it, his control absolute. There was no hesitation, no delay. He wielded the celestial magic power as naturally as breathing, a feat that even the greatest warriors of legend had struggled to achieve. Agamemnon barely had time to react. The lance struck his chest with devastating force, piercing through his form and leaving a gaping hole where his heart should have been. Yet, no blood spilled from the wound. Instead, the darkness that cloaked his body writhed and shifted, as if it were a living entity. The wound did not remain¡ªit healed within moments, the black substance pulling itself back together, reforming as if nothing had happened. "Kahaha!!" Agamemnon burst into laughter, his voice twisted with manic delight. He spread his arms wide, reveling in his own invulnerability. "Look! You cannot defeat me! Heiron!!" His grip tightened around his corrupted blade, and with a feral roar, he swung it at Nathan. The sheer force of the strike split the air itself, a wave of dark energy carving a devastating path through the battlefield. Soldiers in the distance, caught in the blade''s arc, were instantly cleaved apart, their bodies vanishing as the corrupt power erased their existence. "This... This is my power!!" Nathan, unfazed by Agamemnon''s deranged exultation, remained silent. His expression was calm, calculating. Without a word, he raised his sword, the air around him turning frigid. A breath. A moment. Then, with a single downward slash, Agamemnon''s entire form froze over in an instant. A towering sculpture of ice now stood where the warrior had been, his face forever captured in a twisted grin. Silence stretched over the battlefield as frost glistened in the sunlight. Crack. A fissure ran down the frozen Agamemnon, followed by another. Black mana seeped from the cracks, pulsating like a living heart. Then, with a final surge of power, the ice shattered apart. Fragments of frozen debris scattered across the ground as Agamemnon emerged, hunched over, gasping for breath. His confidence was gone, replaced by something far more raw¡ªrage. With ragged breaths, he lifted his gaze to Nathan, his eyes burning with hatred. The battle was far from over or at least he thought. Nathan smirked, the expression barely noticeable but filled with confidence. Agamemnon''s eyes burned red with fury, his bloodshot gaze locked onto Nathan as he raised his sword. No. They were going to lose the war. Her mind raced, searching for some explanation, some logical reasoning behind this absurdity. But the sight before her shattered all expectations. "Why... why would Khillea do such a thing...?" she murmured, utterly speechless. Khillea¡ªher greatest hope, the strongest warrior in this war, the woman she had placed all her faith in¡ªhad just turned her back on everything. Without hesitation, without a second thought, she had kissed Nathan, and in that moment, the entire battlefield had shifted. To make matters worse, it wasn''t just that. The kiss carried meaning¡ªdeep, undeniable meaning. It was not one of fleeting passion, but of something far greater. Nathan had swallowed entirely Khillea''s rage. The fiery warrior, once consumed by the flames of vengeance, had become utterly pacified by Nathan''s words. Now, she was commanding all the Myrmidons to retreat. And the most terrifying thing? Not a single one of them questioned her decision. Because the Myrmidons had never truly considered themselves part of the Greek forces. They had always stood apart, their loyalty belonging solely to their leader¡ªfirst to Achilles, and now, to Khillea. They despised Agamemnon with every fiber of their being, but they had chosen to fight only because their Queen had chosen to. With her stepping away from the war, they followed without hesitation. Their vendetta against Troy had already been reduced to embers. The only thing that had fueled their rage was the murder of Patroclus at Paris''s hands. But even that no longer mattered. Because all eyes were now on another battle. The battle between Hector and Paris. Anyone watching could already see the outcome. Hector''s strikes were precise, unwavering, relentless. His eyes burned with determination, filled with unshakable resolve. He was going to kill his brother. And Paris, weak and desperate, could do nothing to stop it. Hera''s fingers trembled as she clutched the edge of her throne, her breath shallow. "Is this... a dream...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She didn''t even have the strength to be angry anymore. Chapter 312 End of the Trojan War Hera''s fingers trembled before she clenched her fists, her breath shallow. "Is this... a dream...?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. She didn''t even have the strength to be angry anymore. Athena turned her gaze toward Hera. The Queen of the Olympus Gods looked utterly broken. Her once proud and commanding presence had withered into silence, her expression frozen in disbelief. The goddess who once dictated the fates of battles, who pulled the strings of heroes and kings alike, now sat motionless, powerless against the events unfolding before her. But Athena was no different. For the first time in her existence, she¡ªAthena, the Goddess of Victory¡ªwas forced to accept the impossible. Every war she had ever blessed, every side she had ever chosen, had always emerged victorious. It was not arrogance that made her believe in her own invincibility¡ªit was simply fact. A fact that had remained unbroken for eons. And yet, this time, she would lose. This time, her blessing, her wisdom, her divine might¡ªnone of it would be enough. The source of her defeat stood below, cutting through fate itself with every step. The man who had returned from the abyss, whose very existence defied the gods themselves. Heiron. Samael. No... His true name. Nathan. Athena slowly lifted her gaze, her piercing gray eyes narrowing as they fell upon Aphrodite. Aphrodite had been the first among them to realize what Nathan was. No, that wasn''t quite right. The first to know had been Khione¡ªthe goddess who had once been declared dead, vanished even from the sight of the divine. Regardless of how it had come to be, one truth remained absolute. "This is the end," Athena muttered, her voice a whisper of finality. She had lost. Below, the battlefield raged on. Nathan toyed with Agamemnon, his movements effortless, weaving around the Greek king''s furious attacks as if he were dancing rather than fighting. Meanwhile, Hector was unleashing his fury upon Paris. "You betrayed your own family!!" Hector roared, his fist crashing into Paris''s cheek with the force of a thunderclap. The younger prince was sent sprawling across the blood-soaked earth, his body bouncing off the ground before coming to a painful halt. For a moment, Paris lay still, his breath ragged. Then, with a grunt, he forced himself up, staggering to his feet. His fingers trembled as he reached for his bow, summoning it with what little strength he had left. His body ached. His vision blurred. But none of that mattered. With one final desperate act, he drew an arrow, pouring every ounce of his remaining power into its tip. The corrupt god who had granted him strength had long abandoned him, yet the twisted energy still lingered, coiling around the arrowhead like venomous smoke. Paris narrowed his eyes and loosed the arrow. It flew straight toward Hector''s head, slicing through the air like a bolt of divine judgment. But Hector had already seen it coming. His golden-bladed sword flashed, cutting through the incoming arrow with a single stroke. The projectile detonated upon impact, its explosive force sending shockwaves across the battlefield. Yet Hector stood firm, his stance unshaken. Paris''s eyes widened in horror. "You bastard!! I will kill you!!!" he screamed, his voice laced with hysteria. He lunged forward, abandoning his bow, his fist swinging wildly in desperation. But Hector caught his hand with ease. For a single moment, the two brothers locked eyes. And then Hector''s knee crashed into Paris''s stomach. "GARK¡ª!" Paris''s body convulsed as the air was forced from his lungs. He staggered backward, his knees buckling, before collapsing onto all fours. His fingers clawed at the dirt, his body wracked with pain as bile and blood spilled from his lips. Hector loomed over him, his expression dark with sorrowful resolve. "You gave me no choice, brother," he murmured. "E-Eh?" Paris lifted his gaze, his breath shallow, his body trembling. His brother stood over him, his sword gleaming under the blood-red sky. The look in Hector''s eyes sent a chill down his spine¡ªcold, merciless, devoid of hesitation. No. No, this wasn''t happening. There was no way. "W....Wait! What are you doing?!" Paris shouted, his voice rising in panic as he scrambled backward, his hands clawing at the dirt. Hector stepped forward, his boots crushing the ground with slow, deliberate force. "You have crossed every line, Paris," he said, his voice like steel. "You have even killed our own people. Did you even notice?" "I-I... I have fought for Troy all this time!" Paris stammered, his body shaking as he desperately tried to justify himself. "Just as much as you! When you were injured, I defended the city! I killed Menelaus!" Hector did not falter. His gaze remained piercing, his judgment absolute. "You did it for yourself," he said. "You would have slaughtered all of us if it meant keeping Helen by your side." Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire Paris''s lips trembled. His mind raced for an escape, an excuse¡ªanything. "Y...you can''t kill me!" he gasped. "I am a Prince of Troy!" "Only in name," Hector answered. Had the Apollo lost his mind? Bestowing such power upon someone like Nathan¡ªsomeone so unpredictable, so unyielding¡ªwas nothing short of madness. Nathan''s smirk widened as he harnessed the divine radiance. The light surged, crackling with unrestrained force, before he swung his sword downward. The heavens trembled. BADOOOOOM!!!! In an instant, Agamemnon''s monstrous black sphere shattered, the void of darkness vanishing as if it had never existed. Agamemnon stumbled back, his expression frozen in stunned horror. "Wh...What...." The words barely escaped his lips, his mind failing to comprehend what had just occurred. Nathan did not grant him the time to understand. With another effortless swing of his sword, a blinding arc of light carved through the air. A wet, sickening shick echoed across the battlefield. Agamemnon''s left arm was severed, spinning through the air before landing with a lifeless thud. "GARGHHH!!" Agamemnon let out an agonized shriek, his body writhing as unnatural energy surged through him, attempting to mend his lost limb. The pain was unbearable, yet before he could even process it... His right arm followed. "AARFHHHH!!" He howled, crimson blood gushing from the open wounds, drenching the ground beneath him. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling violently. For the first time in his life, Agamemnon knew true fear. Nathan''s cold, piercing eyes bore into him, the gaze of an executioner looking upon his next victim. Panic seized Agamemnon''s limbs. His body moved on instinct¡ªhe turned, attempting to flee. But mercy was an illusion. Another swing. With a nauseating noise his right leg was cleaved away. "GYAHH!!" Agamemnon let out a choked scream as he collapsed onto the blood-soaked earth. His fingers dug into the dirt, desperation overtaking his senses. He lifted his gaze, scanning the battlefield, looking for his men¡ªhis loyal soldiers, his warriors. They were still there. But none moved. Only horror filled their eyes. "HELP ME!!" he shrieked. "KILL HIM! SAVE YOUR KING!!!" Silence answered him. Not a single Greek soldier stepped forward. The battlefield had fallen into a suffocating silence. The Greek soldiers¡ªthose who had once fought so fiercely for their king¡ªnow stood motionless, their weapons lowered, their eyes filled with the cold weight of inevitability. They all knew the truth. Their king was no longer the ruler they once followed with unwavering loyalty. He was nothing more than a pathetic man, reduced to a quivering wreck, begging for his life in the dirt. And Nathan... Nathan was an executioner standing above him, merciless and unshaken. None dared to move. None dared to challenge him. Even Odysseus, the last true commander of the Greek forces, averted his gaze. He had always been a man of reason, of wit. And reason told him that this battle¡ªno, this war was lost. There was no sense in throwing away the lives of his men in a futile struggle. No fight remained. No victory could be salvaged. This was the end. Agamemnon turned his wide, desperate eyes toward Nathan, his bloodied hands reaching forward in supplication. "N-No...!! I¡ªI will give you anything!!" His voice was raw with terror, cracking as he scrambled for a chance to survive. "Ask me! Name your price!" Nathan gazed down at him, his expression void of sympathy. There was no hesitation in his voice as he uttered his only demand: "I want you to die." With a swift, brutal thrust, Nathan plunged his sword straight through Agamemnon''s open mouth. The blade pierced through flesh and bone, driving deep into his throat. Agamemnon let out a strangled, inaudible gurgle, his body convulsing as agony tore through him like wildfire. His eyes bulged, hands clawing uselessly at the sword impaling him, but it was futile. Then, Nathan spoke again. "Swallow him." A suffocating darkness bled from his sword, writhing like living shadows. "UGHHJNNNNNN¡ª!!!" Agamemnon''s screams were inhuman, distorted by pure suffering as the abyssal magic devoured him from the inside out. His flesh blackened, rotting away before their eyes, as the unholy force consumed him whole. His limbs flailed, his body twisted unnaturally, his agony stretching into an eternity of horror. The watching soldiers¡ªGreek and Trojan alike¡ªshuddered as the bloodcurdling wails of their once-mighty king echoed across the battlefield. Some turned away, unable to bear the sight. Others simply stood frozen, fear gripping them in an iron vice. And then, silence. When it was over, nothing remained. No corpse. No armor. Not even the bones. Only his blood, staining the earth. Nathan let out a slow breath, his golden eyes shifting toward Odysseus. "T...The Greeks will retreat. We concede out defeat," Odysseus quickly spoke up in fear as well. With that, he lifted his sword before tossing it to the ground. The weapon struck with a heavy, resonating sound that seemed to mark the end of an era. The Greek soldiers, one by one, began dropping to their knees. Not in reverence, but in surrender. Odysseus closed his eyes for a moment, before exhaling deeply. He had no words. Only resignation. "Good," Nathan murmured. Turning away, he cast a glance toward Hector. Their eyes met, and Hector gave a solemn nod. Nathan understood. There would be no massacre of the Greeks¡ªnot today. Their humiliation was absolute, their defeat undeniable. There was no need to stain the battlefield further with unnecessary bloodshed. They would leave. And they would never dare to challenge Troy again. Of course, there would be consequences¡ªreparations would need to be made. But that was for Priam to decide. Nathan then dismissed his magic. The swirling darkness dissipated, fading into nothingness. And as he turned his back to the battlefield, he spoke the final words that would mark this moment in history as the beginning of living Legend in the whole Greek Continent also in the world... "The Trojan War is over." Chapter 313 The Triumph of Troy The Trojan War had come to an unexpected and historic conclusion¡ªthe day Heiron returned, alive and victorious. For the first time in history, Troy had not only withstood the might of Greece but had emerged triumphant. The invincible coalition of kings and warriors who once boasted of their impending conquest had been shattered. The Greeks had lost. And yet, they did not leave immediately. Among those who lingered was Odysseus, ever the tactician, who remained behind to discuss the aftermath of the war with King Priam. Though the Greeks had waged war, it was they who had been defeated, and with defeat came consequences. Troy would not let them retreat without exacting a price for the destruction they had brought upon its lands. Read latest stories on My Virtual Library Empire The surviving Greek soldiers, battle-worn and exhausted, carried the weight of crushing defeat upon their shoulders. The war that was meant to cement their glory had instead left them in disgrace. But they could do nothing¡ªfate had been cruel, and history would remember them not as victors but as failures. For the Trojans, however, it was a time of unparalleled celebration. Euphoria coursed through the veins of every citizen, from the highest noble to the humblest craftsman. The entire city roared with jubilation, its streets filled with music, laughter, and cheers. Men, women, and children flooded the avenues, their joy spilling forth like a river that had long been dammed. At the heart of their exultation were two names that would forever be carved into legend: Hector and Heiron. These two warriors had defied the might of Greece, shattered their greatest warriors, and brought about an unimaginable victory. Statues were already being sculpted in their honor, their likenesses immortalized in stone as living gods of war. Songs were being composed in their name, ballads that would echo through the ages, recounting their heroics on the battlefield. Yet the greatest cause for celebration was the death of Agamemnon himself. The so-called "King of Kings," the tyrant who had waged this war out of arrogance and greed, had fallen. Heiron had finally slain the man who had long sought Troy''s destruction, and with his death, the city could finally breathe in relief. For years, doubt had lingered in the hearts of the Trojans. The Greeks had come in overwhelming numbers, their warriors unmatched in skill. They had the blessings of mighty gods¡ªHera, Queen of Olympus, and Athena, the very Goddess of Victory, had both opposed Troy. By all accounts, the city should have fallen. And yet, it had not. It was a miracle. A defiance of fate itself. And miracles deserved to be celebrated. Troy reveled in its newfound glory. Tables overflowed with the finest food and wine, laughter and song filled the air, and performances reenacting the war''s greatest moments took place in every plaza. Bards and poets were already composing epics of Heiron''s duels¡ªhis battles against Ajax, against Heracles, and Hector''s legendary clash against the centaur Chiron. Soon, these stories would spread beyond the walls of Troy. Within a month, they would reach the far corners of the world. And in the annals of history, the victory of Troy¡ªthe impossible triumph¡ªwould be remembered for eternity. Within the mighty palace of Troy, the usual banquet hall¡ªwhere countless feasts had been held in times of peace¡ªstood eerily empty. Tonight, it could not contain the scale of the celebration that the Trojans demanded. A far greater hall within the palace had been chosen instead, one vast enough to accommodate a victory of this magnitude. It was here that the heart of the celebration pulsed with life. Laughter and cheers echoed against the grand marble walls, the clinking of goblets and the rhythmic beat of music filling the space with an infectious energy. The hall was packed to its very limits, and even outside, the festivities continued, the streets flooded with those eager to revel in Troy''s moment of triumph. Yet within these golden halls, only the greatest figures of the Trojan War were seated¡ªthe warriors, leaders, and legends who had fought and bled for this city. At the center of it all stood Aeneas, his voice carrying above the cacophony as he raised his cup high into the air. "Let us cheer for the greatest heroes of Troy! Hector of Troy and Heiron!!" His words were met with an immediate uproar. "HECTOR AND HEIRON!!" The entire hall thundered as countless goblets were raised in unison, a chorus of admiration and gratitude washing over the two warriors. Seated among them was Heiron, dressed in formal Trojan attire, his usual battlefield presence replaced with an air of regal composure. Beside him sat Hector, his ever-loyal companion, along with two formidable women¡ªAtalanta and Penthesilea, the latter now fully recovered from her wounds. Penthesilea had been utterly shocked upon waking to discover Heiron alive. The moment she had regained consciousness, she had nearly tackled him, filled with an overwhelming mix of relief and desire. If not for Nathan stepping in to calm her down, the situation might have escalated further and they would have fucked in public. Since that moment, she had barely left his side, relentlessly questioning everyone about what had transpired on the final day of battle. Yet no matter how many answers she received, she remained disappointed. She had wanted to witness the climax of the war herself, to stand at Heiron''s side as history was written. But despite her frustration, she made up for it in the only way she knew¡ªby drinking and celebrating as fiercely as she fought. She laughed boisterously, downing cup after cup of wine, her wild energy drawing others into her revelry. At one point, she attempted to pull Atalanta into her drinking spree, grinning mischievously as she tried to pass her a full goblet. Atalanta, however, wanted no part in it. The huntress skillfully evaded Penthesilea, darting behind Nathan in an attempt to escape. "I''d rather not get drunk," she muttered, her expression slightly awkward as she peeked over his shoulder. Penthesilea merely smirked before turning back to her Amazonian sisters, raising yet another cup to the heavens. Hector, watching the spectacle unfold, chuckled heartily before standing and lifting his own goblet high. "I believe we should have a personal cheer for Heiron¡ªthe greatest hero of the Trojan War!" Another wave of cheers erupted through the hall, even louder than before. Goblets clashed, wine spilled, and voices rang out in unanimous praise. Nathan simply smiled at their enthusiasm. Compliments were not something he was used to receiving so openly, so sincerely. And yet, for once, he allowed himself to enjoy them. It was... pleasing. Beside him, Atalanta leaned in slightly, her sharp eyes glancing toward him with mild concern. "Have you recovered from your injury?" Nathan let out a small laugh, his fingers brushing the spot where Paris had stabbed him in the back. "That? It was nothing." Indeed, the wound had long since healed, a mere afterthought compared to all he had endured. Atalanta''s expression remained unimpressed as she watched Nathan dismiss his injuries with a smirk and a laugh. It wasn''t the first time he had shrugged off wounds like they were nothing, but that didn''t mean she had to like it. Nathan, noticing her concern, let amusement flicker in his golden eyes. Without hesitation, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against the curve of her slender waist. His touch was teasing, deliberate. "If you''re that worried," he murmured, leaning in slightly, "you can check for yourself later." A soft flush crept onto Atalanta''s face as she quickly slipped out of his grasp, her movements graceful yet hurried. She cast a nervous glance around, her voice hushed but urgent. "Artemis might be watching us," she whispered in a panic. Nathan merely chuckled, swirling the wine in his cup before taking a slow sip. "Artemis, yeah..." he muttered, his tone thoughtful yet indifferent. Hera. Athena. And now Artemis. His list of goddesses to deal with was only growing longer. But unlike the other two, Artemis was a unique problem. She had always been fiercely protective of her ''daughters,'' especially Atalanta. If she ever found out what had happened between them, the consequences would be... troublesome. Nathan exhaled, tilting his head back slightly. He would have to do something about Artemis eventually¡ªnot just for his own sake, but for Atalanta''s. He had no intention of hiding their relationship forever, and she deserved the freedom to stop worrying, to stop glancing over her shoulder every time she was with him. Unfortunately, it seemed that moment wouldn''t come soon. "I''m leaving today," Atalanta announced suddenly. Nathan''s gaze snapped toward her. "Already?" She nodded, crossing her arms as if to steady herself. "Artemis has called all of her daughters back." There was disappointment in her voice, a reluctance she didn''t bother to hide. Nathan frowned. He had expected this, but not so soon. "Are you safe?" he asked, his voice lowering. His greatest concern wasn''t just that she was leaving¡ªit was Artemis discovering the truth. Atalanta sighed but offered him a small reassuring smile. "Aphrodite gave me something to conceal it. It should be fine." Nathan relaxed slightly, though his gratitude toward Aphrodite only deepened. She had done more for him than she likely realized. After his death, she had been the one to prevent disaster¡ªkeeping Charybdis, Scylla, and Medea from unleashing a massacre upon Troy. Instead of letting them descend into grief-driven destruction, she had promised them that he would return. And they had believed her. He owed her. And once he left Troy, he would have to face them. Charybdis. Scylla. Medea. They were waiting for him back in Tenebria, expecting his return. His time in Troy was nearing its end. There was nothing left for him to do here. He had accomplished his goals, fulfilled his purpose. All that remained was for him to take a breath¡ªto let himself rest for a little while longer in the city that had welcomed him as its hero. But soon, he would resume his role as Lord Commander of Tenebria. And soon, his plan against the Light Empire would resume. Chapter 314 Speaking with Clytemnestra Hector''s voice pulled me from my thoughts as he approached once again, his expression warm yet tinged with a certain reluctance. "When exactly are you leaving Heiron?" he asked, his deep voice carrying both curiosity and a hint of regret. I glanced at him briefly before turning my gaze back to the horizon. The evening sun bathed the city of Troy in golden hues, casting long shadows across the sturdy stone walls that had withstood countless sieges. "In a few days... maybe a week," I answered, my tone nonchalant. "I need some rest before I move on." I didn''t elaborate further, and Hector, perceptive as ever, didn''t push. Instead, he let out a hearty laugh and clapped a firm hand on my shoulder, his strength evident even in the casual gesture. "You know, you don''t have to leave so soon, brother," he said, grinning. "You''re always welcome here. You could even settle down in Heiron if you wished. The city would be honored to have you." His words carried genuine warmth, an offer extended from the heart, but I shook my head with a small smile. "It''s a good place to rest, I''ll admit that. Troy has been kind to me," I said. "But there are still too many things I need to do... things I have yet to accomplish. My path doesn''t end here." For a fleeting moment, I considered it. A life of peace in a city where people respected me¡ªnot like in the Light Empire, where my very existence was met with disdain and scheming. But no matter how welcoming Troy was, it wasn''t where my future lay. Hector exhaled, shaking his head with an amused smile. "A shame. We''re going to miss you." There was an underlying sincerity in his words, and I found myself appreciating the bond we had forged. "Congratulations, by the way," I said after a moment. "For your child." At that, Hector''s face lit up with unrestrained joy, and he scratched his cheek, unable to hide his happiness. "Ah, thank you," he said, his voice brimming with pride. Then, his lips curled into a teasing smirk. "But you should be congratulated too. You''ve got a child with none other than the great Achilles herself. Who knows? Maybe at three years old, she''ll already be strong enough to kill gods." He chuckled, clearly half-joking, but I found myself laughing softly along with him. "Maybe," I admitted, though my thoughts soon drifted elsewhere. Kyra. I didn''t care whether she grew up strong enough to challenge the gods themselves. What mattered was that she grew up happy, with the love of good parents. I wanted to be the father she deserved¡ªthe kind I never had. But my reality wasn''t so simple. Because of my current situation, with the attention I had drawn¡ªeven from the gods themselves¡ªit was far too dangerous for her to remain by my side. That was why she was with Khillea, in her homeland, far from the chaos that surrounded me. Khillea had wanted to come with me immediately, insisting that she could fight alongside me, that she didn''t need protection. But I had stopped her. I convinced her that, with my dragon, I could visit whenever she wished. She reluctantly agreed, though I knew she hated the idea of waiting while I walked this treacherous path alone. For now, Kyra was safest where she was. I had no choice but to keep moving forward, to carve a future where neither she nor Khillea would have to live in fear. And to do that, I had to reach the level of the gods themselves. Once I reached that point¡ªonce I stood among them¡ªI would decide how to handle everything else. My future, my women, the wars yet to come. But that was a matter for another time. For now, I could only take the next step forward. A soft pout formed on Penthesilea''s lips as she clung to my arm, her grip firm despite the haze of drunkenness clouding her emerald eyes. "Why don''t you want me to accompany you?" she whined, pressing closer as if her warmth alone could sway my resolve. I let out a sigh, though a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. She could be stubborn when she wanted to be. "Because you are the Queen of the Amazons," I reminded her gently, brushing a stray lock of her wild, dark hair behind her ear. "You have a duty to your people. Don''t throw away your status for me." But Penthesilea was never one to let go so easily. Her eyes gleamed with determination as she leaned in, her voice carrying the fierce conviction of a warrior. "And I can be the Queen of the Amazons near you," she insisted, a sultry smile playing on her lips. I chuckled softly at her persistence before raising a hand to her cheek, my thumb brushing lightly against her smooth skin. "I''m working on it," I assured her, my voice quieter now, more intimate. "Just be patient." For now, my path was set. As the Lord Commander of Tenebria, my focus was on the fall of the Light Empire. Only when that was done¡ªwhen both Tenebria and my ambitions were secure¡ªcould I finally allow myself to think about the future beyond war. A future where I could carve out a place for myself and the women who had tied their fates to mine. But that time had not yet come. Penthesilea exhaled, a heavy sigh of frustration escaping her lips before she was abruptly pulled away by the other Amazons, their laughter ringing through the halls as they dragged their intoxicated queen from my side. Her protests quickly faded into the revelry of the feast, the flickering torchlight casting her retreating figure in a golden glow. I watched her disappear into the crowd before a voice, smooth and composed, cut through the air behind me. Your next chapter is on My Virtual Library Empire "You are quite loved, Hero of Troy." I turned to find Clytemnestra approaching, her elegant gait unhurried yet purposeful. The former queen carried herself with the regal poise of a woman who had known both power and ruin, her sharp gaze fixed on me with an unreadable expression. "I prefer to be called by my name," I replied, my tone cool but not unkind. The title¡ªHero of Troy...felt strange, detached, as if it belonged to someone else entirely. Clytemnestra''s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, but she didn''t push the matter. Instead, silence stretched between us, filled only by the distant sounds of revelry. Then, finally, she spoke. "Thank you for killing Agamemnon." Her voice was calm, almost casual, but there was something deeper beneath the surface¡ªrelief, perhaps. Or maybe something darker. I met her gaze. "I didn''t do it for you." My words were simple, matter-of-fact. "There''s no need to thank me." Clytemnestra let out a breath, her smile fading slightly. "Perhaps not. But still, that man..." She paused, as if weighing her words. "He killed my child. I spent years dreaming of his death, and now that it has finally come, I wonder if I can turn over a new leaf... or if it''s too late for me." Her voice grew softer, more vulnerable. "I don''t know where to go from here. Returning to Mycenae is out of the question. They would kill me the moment I stepped foot in that city." I nodded, understanding her predicament. Mycenae had been Agamemnon''s stronghold, his kingdom. Now that he was dead, the people would undoubtedly seek vengeance on the woman who had conspired against him. "What about Sparta?" I asked after a moment. It was her homeland, after all. Before Menelaus took the throne, her father had been the rightful king. If there was any place that might accept her, it would be there. But Clytemnestra shook her head, a humorless chuckle escaping her lips. "That''s not possible either. My distant uncle has already taken control of Sparta, and his rule is absolute. He does not tolerate traitors¡ªor anyone who abandoned the Spartan way." Her gaze darkened as she added, "I may not have betrayed Sparta, but I am sure he knows I supported Troy. That alone would be enough to mark me as an enemy. The same goes for Helen. She cannot return there either." I took a slow sip from my cup, the rich taste of wine lingering on my tongue as I gathered my thoughts. The firelight flickered, casting long shadows across the grand hall, where the remnants of the feast carried on in hushed conversations and occasional bursts of laughter. Finally, I spoke, my voice steady but firm. "Helen is coming with me to Tenebria." I set my cup down, my gaze meeting Clytemnestra''s. "She will live there, with me." Clytemnestra''s brows lifted in surprise, her lips parting slightly before she managed a quiet, "Oh." She hadn''t expected that answer. I leaned forward slightly, watching her reaction as I asked the next question. "Do you want to come as well?" That time, she looked utterly taken aback. Her sharp, calculating mind seemed to stall for a moment as she processed my words. "Come?" she echoed, as if uncertain she had heard me correctly. I nodded. "You are her sister, and you have nowhere else to go. Come to Tenebria. Helen will be there, and under my protection, no one will dare lay a hand on either of you. My status there is second only to the Queen herself." A deep silence stretched between us, thick with the weight of my offer. Clytemnestra stared at me, and for the first time since our conversation began, the poised, regal mask she wore faltered. "Do... you truly mean it?" Her voice was quieter now, hesitant, yet laced with something fragile¡ªhope. She had lost everything. Her home, her power, her child. And despite all her strength, she was now a woman cast adrift, with nowhere to call her own. And yet, even after all of it, she deserved more than just exile and solitude. I smiled at her, the kind of smile that left no room for doubt. "I don''t lie about such things." Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but the words never came. I didn''t press her. Instead, I simply continued, my tone light but certain. "You should start gathering your belongings. I''ll let you know when we leave." Clytemnestra gave a small nod, but it was clear she was still overwhelmed. Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, as though she wanted to find a way to thank me but couldn''t quite bring herself to say it aloud. Gratitude was a rare thing for a woman like her¡ªsomeone who had spent most of her life surrounded by betrayal, cruelty, and survival. But I wasn''t going to force her into anything. Leaning back in my chair, I took another sip of my wine before adding, "Astynome and Briseis will be coming with us as well, so you won''t feel alone." That startled her even more. Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened slightly. "They... are coming too?" She wasn''t the only one caught in the ruins of Troy''s fall. Astynome and Briseis had both suffered under Greek rule, just as Helen had. Bringing them to Tenebria wasn''t just an act of kindness¡ªit was the least I could do. For a while, Clytemnestra said nothing. Her gaze drifted across the hall before settling on Kassandra, who sat at a distance with an expression far brighter than I had ever seen on her. The cursed prophetess, always haunted by visions of despair, looked almost... at peace. Clytemnestra watched her for a moment before speaking again. "She''s coming as well, isn''t she?" I hesitated before answering. "I''d like that... but I haven''t asked yet Priam about it." Before our conversation could continue, a commanding voice rang through the hall. "Silence, please." I turned my head as King Priam rose from his seat, his aged but powerful presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The feast stilled. The murmurs ceased. And in the heavy silence that followed, I knew something important was about to be said. Finally. It was time for me to ask Kassandra''s hand. Chapter 315: Triumph of Troy: Priam鈥檚 Rewards "Silence, please." Find your next read at novelhall.Co?m I turned my head as King Priam rose from his seat, his aged but powerful presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The feast stilled. The murmurs ceased. And in the heavy silence that followed, I knew something important was about to be said. Finally. It was time for me to ask Kassandra¡¯s hand. A hush fell over the grand hall the moment Priam raised his hand, signaling for silence. The lively chatter and bursts of laughter faded almost instantly as all eyes turned toward him. The air, once filled with the clinking of cups and the murmur of victorious revelry, now grew still in anticipation. Priam stood tall, his regal bearing emphasized by the flickering torchlight that illuminated the chamber. A bright smile graced his face¡ªa stark contrast to the man I had first met. Back then, he had appeared weary, burdened by the looming specter of war, his every step weighed down by the fear of Troy¡¯s downfall. Yet now, with victory secured, those worries seemed to have melted away, replaced by a triumphant radiance befitting a king. "We have triumphed against the invaders¡ªthe Greeks!" Priam¡¯s voice rang out, strong. A thunderous roar of approval erupted from the gathered Trojans, their voices rising in unison. Cups were lifted high, wine spilling over the edges in their enthusiasm. The hall trembled with the force of their joy, the echoes of their celebration bouncing off the marble columns and high, vaulted ceilings. Priam chuckled at their enthusiasm, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He raised a hand once more, allowing the cheers to settle before continuing. "We have crushed the mighty Greek kings! We have stood victorious against Agamemnon himself¡ªthe ruler of Mycenae¡ªwhose armies were once feared as the strongest force on the continent!" Another wave of cheers surged forth, louder than before, shaking the very foundations of the palace. The Trojans, their pride shining through, laughed heartily, relishing their triumph. From the moment I arrived, I had sensed the deep-rooted rivalry between the Greeks and the Trojans. Even before the war, the two nations had long harbored a competitive animosity. The Greeks prided themselves on their military prowess, their warriors trained from birth for battle. The Trojans, on the other hand, had always been known for their impregnable walls, their city heralded as an unbreakable bastion. But their soldiers? Their commanders? Many had believed them to be inferior to the disciplined Greek forces. And in some ways, they weren¡¯t wrong. The Greeks produced warriors of unparalleled discipline¡ªhardened veterans, tacticians, and commanders who had spent decades perfecting the art of war. Compared to them, Troy¡¯s army had seemed weaker, less fearsome. But they hadn¡¯t counted on Hector. And they certainly hadn¡¯t counted on me. While I had done much to turn the tides of war, I knew that without Hector, Troy would have fallen. Whenever exhaustion forced me to rest, Hector stood alone on the battlefield, his sword carving a path through the enemy ranks. He carried the weight of Troy¡¯s survival on his shoulders, never faltering, never yielding. Even when I fell¡ªwhen I was taken from this world¡ªhe alone had kept the city standing. He was everything a prince should be. Everything a king must be. And one day, he would wear the crown of Troy. Priam¡¯s voice pulled me from my thoughts. "First, I will honor the great commanders who protected our city!" His gaze swept across the gathered warriors before he called their names. "Atalanta! Penthesilea! Aeneas! Pollux!" At his summons, four figures stepped forward. Atalanta, fierce and unyielding, stood with the grace of a huntress, her golden hair catching the firelight. Penthesilea, the Amazonian queen, exuded an aura of quiet strength, her piercing gaze unwavering. Aeneas, ever steadfast, carried himself with the dignity of a man who had fought not for glory, but for the future of his people. And Pollux, battle-hardened and unshakable, met the king¡¯s eyes with the silent pride of a warrior who had faced the worst and emerged victorious. "They have fought with valor," Priam declared. "They have stood as unshakable shields, guarding our walls, leading our warriors, and turning the tides of battle in our favor. Because of them, Troy still stands!" A new wave of cheers erupted, this one laced with gratitude and admiration. "Now," Priam continued, his expression warm, "speak your desires, and you shall be rewarded." Penthesilea was the first to step forward, her movements filled with confidence and purpose. A knowing grin played on her lips, her sharp eyes gleaming with an untamed fire. The Queen of the Amazons was not one to hesitate, and as she stood before Priam, her presence alone commanded attention. She and her Amazons had joined this war not for conquest or glory but for the thrill of battle itself. They sought worthy opponents, and what better stage than a war against the famed Greek kings? That was why I found myself particularly curious about what she would ask for now that the war was over. Penthesilea was no ordinary warrior pleading for a reward¡ªshe was a queen, equal to any ruler standing in this hall. There was no need for nervousness, no place for meekness. She had earned her due. With a clear and unwavering voice, she spoke. "King Priam," she began, her tone bold, "I ask that my Amazons and I be granted the finest armor and weapons Troy has to offer. In addition, we require provisions of food for the next month to sustain us on our journey back. And lastly, I ask for capable hands to help us transport and bury our fallen sisters, so they may rest as warriors should." The hall fell silent for a brief moment. Priam¡¯s brows lifted in slight surprise, perhaps expecting a demand of greater magnitude. I, too, had thought she might ask for something more¡ªland, wealth, or even political influence in Troy. Yet, her request was simple, practical, and befitting a warrior. "That is the least we can do for you, Queen Penthesilea," Priam said, his voice warm with gratitude. "I shall order my men to assist you with all that you require. And beyond that, we will also gift you gold as a token of our appreciation." Penthesilea chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "We Amazons are not so greedy, King Priam. Gold does not sustain us in the forests we call home. But I will not refuse a gift freely given." Her laughter was rich and full of life, and as she turned back toward her warriors, her request granted, there was a satisfied ease in her posture. Next, Pollux stepped forward. Unlike Penthesilea, whose pride lay in her people, Pollux stood alone. His steps were measured, his face composed, though the weight of loss still lingered in his expression. The war had taken much from him. His twin brother, Castor, was gone. Sparta, the land that should have been his, had been reclaimed by his distant uncle. With no kingdom to return to and no family left to embrace, he had chosen another path¡ªthe sea. Standing before Priam, he bowed his head slightly before making his request. "I wish for nothing more than a sturdy ship and a capable crew, my King," he said. "Along with provisions to last three months and a set of weapons to defend myself." It was a simple request, but I understood the meaning behind it. Pollux had lost everything that tied him to land, and now, he sought solace in the vast, open ocean. A journey with no set destination¡ªperhaps an escape, or perhaps a search for something yet unknown. Truthfully, I had offered him a place in Tenebria, and even Helen had urged him to stay, hoping to give him a new home. But he had refused. There was something he needed to do alone. Priam regarded him for a moment before nodding, a small smile forming on his lips. "You shall have them," he said simply. Pollux nodded in return, his expression unreadable, and with that, he stepped back into the crowd. Finally, Aeneas stepped forward. Unlike the others, there was no hesitation in his stance, no indecision in his eyes. He was a man who had already found his purpose. And so, when he spoke, his words carried the weight of unwavering loyalty. "I ask for nothing, Your Majesty," he said firmly. "Only the right to continue serving Troy and to stand by Prince Hector¡¯s side." As he spoke, he turned his gaze toward Hector, a silent vow passing between them. Hector¡¯s smile widened, pride shining in his eyes. He gave a firm nod toward his father, as if to say that he welcomed Aeneas¡¯ loyalty. Priam chuckled softly, his expression betraying genuine joy. Aeneas was a man of honor, one who had proven himself time and time again, and knowing that such a warrior would remain at Hector¡¯s side no doubt put the king¡¯s heart at ease. "We are grateful to have you with us," Priam said, his tone warm. "But think carefully¡ªsurely there must be something else you desire. You have earned it." Aeneas simply nodded, but said nothing more, stepping back into his place. Lastly, Atalanta stepped forward, her movements as fluid and graceful as ever. Unlike the others before her, there was no trace of hesitation or deep contemplation in her expression. She knew exactly what she wanted. The air grew quiet as she faced King Priam, her green eyes gleaming under the flickering torchlight. No wealth, no land, no titles¡ªnone of those things mattered to her. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, steady, and without embellishment. "I have nothing to ask for myself," she said. "Only that a temple be built in honor of my Goddess, Artemis." A hushed murmur passed through the gathered Trojans. It was an unusual request, yet not entirely unexpected. Atalanta had always been fiercely devoted to the goddess of the hunt, a woman who had rejected the life of nobility and instead devoted herself to the wilds. Her victories in this war, her strength, and even her presence here¡ªnone of it was for personal gain. It was all for Artemis. Priam regarded her with a thoughtful gaze before nodding. "There was no need to ask," he said. "We have already begun preparations to erect statues for both Aphrodite and Artemis. Your goddess shall be honored in Troy, as she deserves." Atalanta inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, her expression unchanging. "Then I am already rewarded," she said simply before stepping back, saying nothing more. There was no need for further words. Priam, wise as he was, did not press her. He understood well enough the significance of her devotion. Atalanta was one of Artemis¡¯ chosen, one of the goddess¡¯ sacred huntresses. To handle her with care and respect was not just an act of diplomacy¡ªit was a necessity. With her request granted, the hall settled once more. The weight of the moment was not lost on anyone, for with Atalanta¡¯s final words, the distribution of rewards had come to an end or not completely. Priam, now standing at the center of it all, cast a glance toward Hector, who met his gaze with a small smile. There was a brief, silent exchange between father and son¡ªan understanding passed between them that needed no words. Then, together, they turned to face me. Priam¡¯s voice rang out, firm and clear. "Heiron, step forward." Chapter 316: Priam鈥檚 great reward to Nathan Priam, now standing at the center of it all, cast a glance toward Hector, who met his gaze with a small smile. There was a brief, silent exchange between father and son¡ªan understanding passed between them that needed no words. Then, together, they turned to face me. Priam¡¯s voice rang out, firm and clear. "Heiron, step forward." As soon as my name was called, I stepped forward. The grand hall fell into a respectful silence, the air thick with anticipation. I could feel their gazes upon me¡ªhundreds of eyes watching, evaluating, admiring. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the polished marble floors, reflecting the solemnity of the moment. Though the gathered lords, knights, and nobles smiled brightly, there was a reverence in their expressions, a silent acknowledgment of what had transpired on the battlefield. King Priam, seated upon his grand throne, his regal presence commanding the room, finally spoke. His voice, though aged, carried the weight of wisdom and authority. "Heiron," he began, his gaze steady upon me. "You were once a mercenary, a blade for hire, and yet you have accomplished more for Troy than any could have foreseen." His words echoed through the vast chamber. Only a select few¡ªPriam himself, the royal Trojan family, and a handful of trusted figures like Aeneas and Atalanta¡ªknew my true identity. I had asked Priam to keep my origins a secret, at least for now. With so many Trojan knights and dignitaries gathered here, it would be unwise to reveal the truth. "I only did my duty, Your Majesty," I responded, my voice even and unwavering. Priam smiled knowingly, his expression touched with something deeper than mere gratitude. "Perhaps," he mused, "but the deeds you have performed transcend mere duty. What you have done is the stuff of legend. When the bards sing of this war, your name will be woven into their songs, carried on the lips of men across the world." He let out a hearty laugh, and the nobles around him joined in, their voices filled with admiration rather than mockery. "I am honored by your words," I said, bowing slightly. It was true¡ªmy name would likely spread across the entire Greek continent, spoken in awe and disbelief. But I cared little for such things. I had not fought for fame or for glory. My purpose in this war had always been my own. Priam¡¯s eyes gleamed with appreciation. "As you should be," he continued, his voice carrying across the room. "Jason of the Argonauts. Ajax the Great. Heracles. Agamemnon. These are names that have shaken the world, names that inspire both fear and admiration." He leaned forward slightly, his expression filled with wonder. "And yet... you, Heiron, have defeated them all." A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles¡ªsome nodding in agreement, others shaking their heads in astonishment. "To say it aloud feels almost absurd," Priam chuckled, glancing at the other kings and warlords seated in attendance. They, too, smiled, their expressions ranging from disbelief to admiration. "When this war began, and these names¡ªthese so-called giants of the world¡ªwere set against us, I will admit, I was afraid," Priam confessed. "We all were. Though Troy boasted great warriors and mighty defenders, we were still outnumbered. The odds were stacked against us." He exhaled, his voice growing softer. "And yet, you showed us something greater than numbers, greater than mere strength." He rose from his throne, his gaze locking onto mine with unwavering sincerity. "Your power, your words, and your unwavering resolve... they have touched us all. They have shaped the course of history. Heiron, Troy will forever be in your debt." I nodded in acknowledgment. There was no need for modesty¡ªnot after everything Priam had just said. His words rang true, and I had no reason to refute them. "And thus, we come to your reward," Priam continued, his tone shifting slightly, carrying a note of amusement. "You have postponed far too many rewards that should have rightfully been yours. In truth, I never imagined that I would one day find myself in a position where I would have to beg someone to accept a reward." A hearty laugh escaped his lips, and soon Hector and the other gathered nobles joined in, their mirth echoing through the grand hall. I allowed myself a small, knowing smile. It was true¡ªI had already received enough gold to last several lifetimes. Transporting more would be an inconvenience, though that didn¡¯t mean I would refuse it outright. Still, at this moment, I had no pressing need for wealth. Priam, sensing my thoughts, smiled knowingly. "That is why," he said, his voice carrying an air of anticipation, "I have a different kind of reward for you. I hope you will consider it worthy." I lifted my gaze in curiosity, my interest piqued. What could he possibly offer me that was not gold or titles? No... I already knew what I wanted. Kassandra. As if responding to my unspoken desire, Priam slowly extended his hand. "My daughter, Kassandra." At the sound of her name, Kassandra rose to her feet. Her movements were graceful yet slightly hesitant, a mixture of nerves and anticipation evident in her expression. She smiled¡ªsoftly at first, then brighter, her deep eyes locking onto mine. "Would you accept my daughter, Kassandra, as your wife?" Priam asked, his tone both formal and earnest. "I have heard that you already have wives, but I have no doubt that you will care for her as deeply as you have cared for Troy itself. Since your arrival, you have protected her time and time again, and I can only imagine how well you would treat her as your wife." A hush fell over the hall. The weight of his words settled upon me. It seemed that Kassandra had already spoken to Priam about this, and to my mild surprise, he had agreed without much hesitation. I had expected him to be more reluctant, given that I was neither of royal blood nor a native of Troy. Perhaps it was my status as a summoned hero that swayed him, or the fact that I held the rank of Lord Commander in another kingdom. Or maybe, just maybe, he simply didn¡¯t care for such formalities and only wished for his daughter¡¯s happiness. Regardless of his reasons, I found myself smiling. "I will accept Kassandra with great pleasure," I said, my voice steady and sincere. "I swear to cherish her, to protect her, and to ensure that she is even happier than she is now." At my declaration, a triumphant cheer erupted among the gathered Trojan soldiers. Hector and Aeneas, seated at the head of the warriors, were the first to raise their cups, leading the men in a celebratory toast. Their voices rang out, filled with approval and camaraderie. Priam laughed, his expression warm. "I had no doubts that you would accept," he said, his gaze flickering toward his daughter, who was now blushing lightly under the weight of so many approving eyes. "Then it is decided. I will prepare a grand wedding to take place in a month¡¯s time. A union such as this deserves nothing less than a celebration worthy of Troy¡¯s greatest hero." He paused before adding, "Can you wait until then?" "Of course," I nodded without hesitation. I had planned to leave Troy in a few days, but I would not mind returning for Kassandra. No matter what awaited me beyond these walls, I would come back for her. And when I did, she would be mine. "Then perfect! Let us all raise our cups to Heiron, who is now officially a Trojan!" Priam declared, his deep voice echoing across the grand hall as he lifted his golden goblet high. A thunderous roar of approval followed, the sound of hundreds of voices blending into one, shaking the very walls of the palace. The knights, nobles, and warriors of Troy cheered with renewed vigor, their cups clashing together as wine spilled over in celebration. I took in the sight, letting the moment sink in. If I married Kassandra, I would no longer be just a mercenary or an outsider¡ªI would be seen as a true Trojan, a member of their people. No longer a foreigner bound by temporary alliances but one of them, someone who would be welcomed within these walls whenever I returned. Among the revelers, my gaze fell upon Queen Hecuba. Though her face bore the lingering traces of dried tears¡ªa testament to the grief she still carried for the loss of Paris¡ªthere was something softer in her expression now, a quiet relief. Kassandra, her most unfortunate daughter, had found happiness. Perhaps that eased the sorrow in her heart, even if just a little. To the side, I spotted Polyxena, a playful glint in her eye as she leaned toward Kassandra, whispering something in her ear. Whatever she said had Kassandra turning red. The feast surged forward with even greater intensity. Servants rushed about, refilling goblets with honeyed wine, while musicians played their lyres and flutes in a wild, rhythmic harmony. Plates were filled, emptied, and filled again with roasted meats, fruits dripping in syrup, and fragrant loaves of bread. Laughter and song wove together in an unrelenting storm of revelry. It became clear that no one intended to sleep for the next few days. But I had no desire to linger any longer. After exchanging final pleasantries, I made my exit, bidding farewell to Atalanta, who was also preparing to leave. "Take care," she said simply, though there was something thoughtful in her gaze, as if she had more to say. I nodded. There were things I needed to deal with¡ªArtemis, for one. But other pressing matters loomed on the horizon, demanding my attention. The corridors were eerily empty as I walked through them, a stark contrast to the chaos of the feast. Laughter and the clinking of goblets echoed faintly from the great hall, but here, in the dimly lit passageways of the palace, there was only silence. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows against the stone walls as I made my way to my chambers. When I pushed open the heavy wooden door, I wasn¡¯t surprised to see her. Helen. She sat on my bed, illuminated by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the window. Dressed in a delicate white negligee, she looked ethereal¡ªher golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her gold eyes cast downward, filled with an emotion I could not quite name. "You weren¡¯t at the feast," I remarked, closing the door behind me. Helen didn¡¯t look up immediately. She traced the fabric of the sheets with absent fingers, her posture hesitant. "I don¡¯t think I deserve to be there..." she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness. I sighed, stepping closer. "You deserve to be there as much as anyone else. Your sister was there." Helen let out a dry, humorless laugh. "She didn¡¯t cause the war," she whispered, her words heavy with self-reproach. "HMM!" Your next chapter awaits on novelhall.Co?m Before she could continue lamenting, before she could once again let guilt consume her, I silenced her in the only way I knew how. I leaned in, and kissed her. Chapter 317: Eating Helen (1) * "HMM!" Before she could continue lamenting, before she could once again let guilt consume her, I silenced her in the only way I knew how. Explore more stories with novelhall.Co?m I leaned in, and kissed her. Her breath hitched in surprise, but she didn¡¯t pull away. Instead, she melted into the kiss, her fingers gripping the sheets before slowly reaching up to tangle in my hair. The sorrow in her eyes faded, replaced by something warmer, something desperate yet tender. In that moment, words were unnecessary. The air between us was electric, charged with a raw, unrelenting hunger that had been building for far too long. I wasn¡¯t just going to fuck her¡ªI was going to claim her, to obliterate every thought in her mind until all she could feel, all she could know, was me. Guilt, hesitation, doubt¡ªnone of it would survive what I was about to do to her. She would be mine, completely and utterly. "Mhnnn~~~" My lips crashed against hers with a ferocity that left no room for resistance. I devoured her mouth, sucking and biting at her soft lips, savoring the faint taste of her cherry gloss. My tongue flicked against the seam of her lips, teasing, demanding entry. When she gasped, I seized the opportunity, plunging my tongue into the warmth of her mouth. Her breath hitched, and I could feel her body tense beneath me, but I didn¡¯t stop. I couldn¡¯t. The taste of her was intoxicating, and I wanted more. With one swift motion, I pushed her down onto the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. Her golden eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and something else¡ªsomething darker, more primal¡ªflashing in their depths. I pinned her hands above her head, my fingers intertwining with hers as I held her in place. She was trapped, and yet there was no fear in her gaze, only a simmering anticipation that mirrored my own. "Mhghnn??~~" I kissed her again, harder this time, my tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. She moaned softly, the sound muffled against my lips, and I felt a surge of satisfaction at the way her body responded to me. My lips trailed down her chin, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along her neck. I nipped at her collarbone, eliciting a sharp gasp, before moving lower to her cleavage. The fabric of her dress was thin, and I could feel the heat of her skin beneath it, driving me wild. But I wasn¡¯t done with her mouth. I returned to her lips, licking and sucking at them until they were swollen and glistening. My tongue traced a path along her jawline, down to her neck, and back up to her lips, teasing her with the promise of more. All the while, my free hand wandered lower, slipping beneath the hem of her dress to explore the smooth, supple skin of her thighs. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as my fingers brushed against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. She squirmed beneath me, her hips arching instinctively, but I held her firmly in place. "Mghnn!" she moaned, the sound vibrating against my lips. I silenced her with another kiss, swallowing her cries as my fingers inched closer to her core. "Open your mouth," I commanded. She obeyed without hesitation, her lips parting slightly. I didn¡¯t give her a chance to think, to hesitate. My tongue invaded her mouth once more, claiming her with a ferocity that left her trembling. Her golden eyes shot open, wide with shock and pleasure, as I ravaged her mouth, my tongue tangling with hers in a heated, desperate dance. "HMGN~~!!" She was inexperienced, her movements awkward and uncertain, but that only fueled my desire. I took control, guiding her, teaching her, until she was lost in the sensations I was creating. Her tongue moved tentatively against mine, and I could feel the moment she surrendered, her body going pliant beneath me as she gave herself over to the pleasure. My fingers finally reached their destination, brushing against the wet heat of her pussy. She was already soaked, her arousal evident in the way her body trembled at my touch. "MGHN!" she cried out, her thighs instinctively clamping around my hand. But I didn¡¯t push further¡ªnot yet. Instead, I teased her, my fingers circling her entrance, tracing lazy patterns around her sensitive folds. Her eyes welled with tears, the overwhelming sensations clearly too much for her to bear. When I sucked on her tongue, drawing it into my mouth and savoring the taste of her, the tears spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. Her golden eyes were hazy, clouded with pleasure and something deeper¡ªsomething that made my chest tighten with a strange, possessive pride. I wanted to see more of her like this¡ªvulnerable, undone, completely at my mercy. My lips closed around her tongue, sucking it in and out of my mouth in a rhythm that mirrored what I wanted to do to her body. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, a mixture of pleasure and pain that only seemed to heighten her arousal. "Mghnnn! Mhnn!" A smug smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as I listened to her muffled moans, each one a desperate, incoherent sound that only fueled my desire. Her mouth was too occupied with mine, her tongue tangled with my own, to form anything more than fragmented cries of pleasure. The way she trembled beneath me, her body writhing in helpless ecstasy, was intoxicating. She was completely at my mercy, and I reveled in it. When I finally felt her pussy wet enough, slick with her arousal, I gently inserted a finger into her tight, quivering entrance. Her body clenched around me, hot and inviting, as a sharp, guttural moan escaped her throat. "Hmann!!" she cried out, her voice breaking as another wave of her cum spilled out, coating my fingers. But I wasn¡¯t done teasing her¡ªnot yet. While one finger worked inside her, curling and stroking her sensitive walls, I let my thumb brush against her clit in slow, deliberate circles. The reaction was immediate. Her back arched off the bed, her hips bucking against my hand as her body teetered on the edge of release. "Spurt!" Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her cum gushing out in a hot, sticky rush. I watched her fall apart, her golden eyes glazed over, her lips parted in a silent scream as pleasure consumed her. Finally, I pulled my lips away from hers, releasing her mouth that had been thoroughly ravaged by my tongue. Her lips were swollen, glistening with saliva, and her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. "You came a lot, Helen," I remarked, my voice low and teasing as I withdrew my hand from between her thighs. My fingers were completely drenched, glistening with her release, and I held them up for her to see. "Haa...haaa...haaa..." Helen panted, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. Her hazy eyes flickered to my hand, and the moment she realized what she was looking at, her face flushed a deep, embarrassed crimson. She quickly averted her gaze, too overwhelmed by shame to meet my eyes. Her entire body was flushed, from the tips of her ears down to her trembling thighs, and the sight of her like this¡ªcompletely undone¡ªonly made me want her more. I brought my fingers to my lips, slowly licking them clean, savoring the taste of her cum as if it were the sweetest honey. I made sure to lick them loudly, deliberately, wanting her to hear every sound, to know exactly what I was doing. Her body trembled violently at the sound, and to my surprise, she came again, her pussy clenching around nothing as another wave of pleasure washed over her. "You taste delicious, Helen," I murmured, my voice dripping with satisfaction. I reached down and lifted her dress higher, exposing her beautiful, trembling pussy to my hungry gaze. It was glistening, still throbbing from her climax, and her arousal continued to leak out, pooling beneath her. The sight was irresistible. "D...don¡¯t look..." Helen stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached out to pull her dress back down. But I caught her wrist mid-motion, holding it firmly in place. Her attempt was weak, half-hearted, as if a part of her wanted me to see her like this¡ªexposed, vulnerable, and utterly breathtaking. "Do you want me to fuck you without looking at your pussy, Helen?" I asked, my tone playful yet firm. "That¡¯s too much to ask." I shook my head, my smirk widening as her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. She didn¡¯t try to stop me again, though whether it was because she was too embarrassed or because she secretly wanted this, I couldn¡¯t tell. And frankly, I didn¡¯t care. I leaned down, my breath hot against her sensitive skin, and gave her pussy a long, slow lick. The moment my tongue made contact with her slit, her entire body jolted, a sharp, keening cry escaping her lips. "Haaaaa??!" she moaned, her voice trembling with a mix of shock and overwhelming pleasure. Her thighs quivered, and her hands clutched at the white sheets, her knuckles turning white as she tried to ground herself. I didn¡¯t stop. I couldn¡¯t. The taste of her was addictive, and the way her body responded to me¡ªevery twitch, every gasp, every shudder¡ªonly drove me further. I licked her again, slower this time, savoring every drop of her arousal as her pussy clenched and trembled beneath my tongue. Chapter 318: Eating Helen (2) * I didn¡¯t stop. I couldn¡¯t. The taste of her was addictive, and the way her body responded to me¡ªevery twitch, every gasp, every shudder¡ªonly drove me further. I licked her again, slower this time, savoring every drop of her arousal as her pussy clenched and trembled beneath my tongue. The room was filled with the sound of her moans, each one a symphony of pleasure that echoed off the walls, wrapping around us in a cocoon of raw, unbridled desire. Helen¡¯s voice, usually so composed and controlled, was now a sultry, breathless melody that sent shivers down my spine. "Haaa??...haaaan??! Haaan??! Nooo...haaaan??! H..Heiron...haaaan??...haaaa??!" Her cries were a mix of protest and surrender, a contradiction that only made her more irresistible. For two minutes straight, I had been devouring her pussy, my tongue working in relentless, hungry strokes. Her body writhed beneath me, her hips lifting off the bed as she tried to press herself closer to my mouth. She came again and again, each climax more intense than the last, and every drop of her release was eagerly swallowed by my tongue. The taste of her was intoxicating, a sweet, heady nectar that I couldn¡¯t get enough of. It was addictive, and I found myself lost in the rhythm of her pleasure, unsure whether I was continuing for the sound of her moans or the taste of her cum. Either way, my desire only grew stronger with every passing second. "Haaan??...nooo??...haaaa??!" Helen¡¯s protests were weak, her words dissolving into incoherent moans as her legs wrapped tightly around my back, locking me in place. Despite her cries of "no," her body betrayed her, her thighs trembling as she held me close, ensuring that my mouth never left her pussy. She was a mess of contradictions, and I loved every second of it. Stay connected via novelhall.Co?m But I wanted more. I wanted to feel every inch of her, to explore every curve and contour of her body. My hands wandered upward, sliding over her heaving chest until they reached her breasts. Or rather, her huge breasts. They were impossibly large, so much so that they spilled out of my palms, soft and warm and utterly perfect. "Haaaann!" she gasped as I began to massage her left breast, my fingers kneading the supple flesh with a firm yet gentle touch. The sound of her moan sent a jolt of heat straight to my already throbbing cock. I needed to see them. I needed to see all of her. With a quick, deliberate motion, I tore her negligee down the middle, the fabric giving way easily under my hands. Her breasts spilled free, full and heavy, their size even more breathtaking than I had imagined. They were larger than Semiramis¡¯s, a fact that sent a surge of primal satisfaction through me. Helen¡¯s body was like that of a succubus¡ªvoluptuous, seductive, and utterly irresistible. My dick hardened instantly, straining against the fabric of my pants as I drank in the sight of her. But I wasn¡¯t done with her pussy just yet. I lowered my mouth back to her core, my tongue flicking against her sensitive folds in quick, teasing strokes. "HAAN!!" she screamed, her body arching off the bed as something new happened. This time, it wasn¡¯t just her cum that spilled out¡ªit was a gush of fluid, a sudden, uncontrollable squirt that drenched my face and the sheets beneath her. Her thighs trembled violently, her legs finally giving out as she collapsed back onto the bed, her chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths. I pulled back, licking my lips with a satisfied smirk as I took in the sight of her. Helen¡¯s face was flushed, her golden eyes hazy and unfocused, her lips parted in a dumb, blissful smile. She looked completely and utterly wrecked, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The taste of her squirt was different from her cum¡ªsaltier, more intense¡ªbut it was just as delicious. Anything that came from her was worth savoring. "You¡¯re incredible, Helen," I murmured, my voice rough with desire as I leaned over her, my hands roaming over her body. Her skin was hot to the touch, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps as she struggled to recover from the intensity of her orgasm. But I wasn¡¯t done with her¡ªnot even close. Her breasts were a masterpiece, a work of art that I couldn¡¯t resist worshipping. I took them in my hands, their weight and softness filling my palms as I kneaded and played with her plump, supple flesh. They were impossibly large, each one spilling over my fingers as I explored every inch of them. Leaning down, I let my tongue flick against her nipple, the pink bud hardening instantly under my touch. My other hand wasn¡¯t idle, my fingers pinching and rolling her other nipple, teasing it until it stood taut and sensitive. "Hhmnn??~" Helen¡¯s soft moan was like music to my ears, a sound that only fueled my desire to devour her. My tongue trailed around her nipple in slow, deliberate circles, savoring the way her breath hitched with every flick. I didn¡¯t stop there¡ªI licked and sucked my way across the expanse of her breast, leaving a trail of wet, glistening kisses in my wake. Her skin was so soft, so warm, and I couldn¡¯t resist marking her, my lips sucking hard enough to leave faint love marks that would remind her of this moment long after it was over. "Haaan! Yesss! Oooh!" Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as I continued my exploration. Each lick, each suck sent shivers racing down her body, her back arching as she pressed herself closer to my mouth. I took her nipple into my mouth again, this time sucking on it like a hungry baby, my lips moving up and down in a rhythm that made her gasp. There was no milk¡ªnot yet¡ªbut the thought of her breasts swollen and full, leaking with milk, sent a surge of heat straight to my cock. When that day came, I would drink every last drop. "Nyaaaa~~!" Her cry was high-pitched, almost kitten-like, as I bit down gently on her nipple, my teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Her breasts were now a deep, flushed red, covered in the marks of my lips and teeth, and the sight of her like this¡ªcompletely marked and claimed¡ªwas almost too much to bear. Her nipples were stiff and sensitive, and I could feel her body trembling beneath me as I continued to tease her. When I finally reached down to her pussy, I wasn¡¯t surprised to find her even wetter than before. Her arousal had soaked the sheets beneath her, her body betraying just how much she wanted this. "Your pussy is so hungry, Helen," I whispered, my voice low and husky as I positioned myself between her legs. My dick was throbbing, the tip pressing against her entrance, and I could feel her flinch at the contact. She was so tight, so untouched, and the thought of being the first to claim her sent a primal thrill through me. She was pure, her virginity untouched by Menelaus or Paris. She had been stolen away before either of them could lay a hand on her, and now she was mine¡ªall mine. I played with her pussy for a moment longer, my fingers teasing her folds as I positioned her in front of me. Gripping her ankles, I pulled her toward me in one swift motion, her body sliding across the bed until she was right where I wanted her. Helen¡¯s breath hitched as she realized what was about to happen. Her golden eyes were wide, a mix of fear and anticipation swirling in their depths. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as she tried to relax herself, and that was all the signal I needed. I grasped her asscheeks, spreading them slightly as I positioned myself at her entrance. Her pussy was slick and inviting, but I knew this would hurt her¡ªat least at first. I didn¡¯t hesitate. With one strong thrust, I pushed myself inside her, my cock stretching her tight walls as I claimed her virginity. "HA...HAAAAAGHNNN!!!" Her scream was raw, filled with a mix of pain and pleasure as her body adjusted to mine. She was so tight, so warm, and the sensation was almost overwhelming. I paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust, but the look on her face¡ªher lips parted, her eyes hazy with a mix of pain and ecstasy¡ªonly made me want to push deeper. "You¡¯re mine now, Helen," I growled, my voice rough with desire as I began to move, my hips thrusting into her with a rhythm that left her gasping for breath. Chapter 319: Eating Helen (3) * "You''re mine now, Helen," I growled, my voice rough with desire as I began to move, my hips thrusting into her with a rhythm that left her gasping for breath. "Haagghnn! Haghnn! Ugnnn!! Hmghnnn!" Helen''s initial groans were filled with pain, her body tensing as I pushed deeper, tearing through the delicate walls that had guarded her virginity. Her pussy was impossibly tight, gripping my cock like a vice, and the sensation was almost overwhelming. She was still adjusting, her body trembling as it struggled to accommodate my size. My dick was thick and long, stretching her to her limits, and I could feel every inch of her resistance as I buried myself inside her. "You''re fucking tight, Helen," I growled, my voice rough with desire as I gripped her breasts, my fingers sinking into her soft, plump flesh. Her nipples were stiff and sensitive, and I couldn''t resist teasing them as I thrust into her, my hips moving in hard, deliberate strokes. Her body jolted with each movement, her moans shifting from pained groans to cries of pleasure. "HAAAN??! HMNNN! HAAAN??! S...Slow! Haaan??!" she begged, her voice trembling as her head rocked back against the bed, her golden eyes hazy with a mix of pain and ecstasy. "Slow? You want faster?" I grinned, my tone teasing as I picked up the pace, my thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Her pussy clenched around me, her body responding to the increased intensity as her moans grew louder, more desperate. "HAAAAN??! Y...Yesss...hmnnnaa...haaaa??...Haaa??!!" she cried out, her voice breaking as her big breasts bounced with each thrust, her entire body shivering with pleasure. I leaned down, capturing her left nipple in my mouth, my tongue swirling around the stiff bud as I continued to fuck her. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as she arched her back, her body writhing beneath me. "Haaaan??!! Yeeesss! Haaan??! L...Lick me!!" she moaned, her voice filled with raw need. I smirked against her skin, my tongue flicking over her areola before sucking her nipple into my mouth, my lips moving up and down in a rhythm that matched the thrusts of my hips. I bit down gently, tugging at her nipple with my teeth, and her reaction was immediate. "SPURT!!" Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her pussy gushing around me as she let out a loud, keening cry. "HYAAAAA??????!" Her legs trembled, her body going limp as she surrendered to the pleasure, her golden eyes glazed over and her lips parted in a silent scream. Her release soaked the sheets beneath her, her body shuddering as she came undone. "M...Moooree...Haaan??..." Helen''s voice was barely a whisper, her lips trembling as she begged for more. Her body was still trembling, her pussy clenching around me as if trying to pull me deeper, and I couldn''t help but smirk at her desperation. "I told you I''d make you forget all your guilt," I said, my voice low and husky as I grasped her legs, lifting them over my shoulders. Her feet were delicate, her skin soft and smooth, and I couldn''t resist kissing them, my lips trailing up her calves as I positioned her even closer to me. With her legs spread wide and her body pulled tight against mine, I thrust into her again, burying myself even deeper than before. Find your adventure at My Virtual Library Empire At this angle, my dick reached the deepest part of her, stretching her to the point where I could feel the walls of her womb. Her pussy was so tight, so warm, and the sensation was almost too much to bear. "HAA...HAAAN!!" Helen''s mouth opened in shock, her golden eyes widening as she felt me hit a spot she hadn''t even known existed. Her hands clawed at the sheets, her body arching as she tried to process the overwhelming sensation. She could feel me¡ªevery inch of me¡ªstretching her, filling her completely. Her stomach bulged slightly with each thrust, the outline of my cock visible as I pushed deeper, hitting the very end of her. Her pussy was drenched, her arousal soaking us both as I continued to move, my thrusts becoming harder, more desperate. Her moans were constant now, a mix of pleasure and disbelief as her body struggled to keep up with the intensity of what I was doing to her. "You feel that, Helen?" I growled, my voice rough with desire as I gripped her hips, holding her in place as I thrust into her. "That''s me. All of me. You''re mine now¡ªevery inch of you." "Haa??...aaan??~~!!" Her response was a broken, breathless moan, her body trembling as she surrendered completely to the pleasure. Ten minutes had passed, and our bodies remained locked in a rhythm that felt both primal and eternal. The intensity of our union showed no signs of waning; if anything, it had reached a crescendo that left us both breathless and trembling. The room was alive with the sounds of our passion¡ªa symphony of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by the sharp, rhythmic slaps of our bodies colliding. PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH! The sound echoed like a drumbeat, each thrust driving us deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Helen''s voice, once soft and melodic, had transformed into a raw, unrestrained chorus of ecstasy. Her moans spilled from her lips in a continuous stream, each one a testament to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. "Haaan??! Yeeesss...haaaan??...haaaaa??! Haamn....??" Her words were fragmented, her thoughts scattered by the sheer force of her pleasure. She had surrendered completely, her body pliant and yielding beneath mine, yet her responses were anything but passive. Every thrust I delivered was met with a shuddering moan or a breathless hum, her hips rising to meet mine in a desperate, instinctual dance. She had already climaxed multiple times, her body writhing and convulsing beneath me, but now she was teetering on the edge of yet another orgasm¡ªone that promised to be even more earth-shattering than the last. The bed beneath us was a testament to our fervor, soaked with the evidence of her pleasure¡ªher fluids mingling with mine, creating a heady, intoxicating scent that filled the room. The air was thick with the musk of sex, a primal aroma that only heightened the intensity of the moment. The sound of our bodies meeting, the wet slap of skin against skin, was the dominant melody in the room, underscored by Helen''s gasps and cries. And then, I felt it¡ªthe familiar, undeniable build of pressure deep within me, a coiled tension that demanded release. My movements became more urgent, my thrusts deeper and more deliberate. I leaned closer to Helen, my chest brushing against hers as I adjusted our position. Her legs were now draped over my shoulders, her feet resting near my head, while her upper body lay splayed beneath me. Her breasts, full and heaving, begged for attention, but I was too consumed by the need to finish what we had started. PAH! PAH! PAH! "HAAN! HAAAN! H...HEIROOOON! I...I FEEL HAAAAN????!" Helen''s voice broke as she tried to form words, but the intensity of our coupling made it impossible for her to speak coherently. Her eyes were glazed, her lips parted in a silent scream as her body trembled beneath me. "Uhn!" I groaned, the sensation building to a peak that I could no longer resist. My thrusts became faster, more frantic, each one driving us closer to the edge. And then, with one final, powerful thrust, I pushed us both over. PAH!!! "HYAAAAAAA??????!!!" Helen''s scream tore through the room, a raw, unfiltered cry of ecstasy that I was certain could be heard far beyond the walls of our chamber. Her body arched violently, her back lifting off the bed as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream, her eyes wide and unseeing as pleasure consumed her entirely. For a moment, she seemed to hover in that state of pure, unadulterated bliss, her mind and body utterly overwhelmed. "Haaan??...moore...so good...do it...haaa??...." Her voice was barely a whisper now, her words fragmented and breathless as she floated back to reality. Her body was limp, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. But even in her exhaustion, there was a soft, satisfied smile on her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure she had experienced. I smirked as I leaned back, my own body spent but satisfied. Helen lay there, a beautiful, disheveled mess, her skin glistening with sweat and her hair splayed out around her like a halo. She was utterly spent, her mind and body pushed to their limits, and I knew without a doubt that this moment would linger in her thoughts for a long time to come. Perhaps, just perhaps, the memory of this pleasure would overshadow the guilt that had haunted her. After all, how could she think of anything else when her body still trembled with the echoes of what we had shared? Her first sex will definitely be the only thing in her mind after she woke up and for a long time. Chapter 320 A year of Separation.... Chapter 320 A year of Separation.... As I pulled out, a thick, almost absurd amount of my seed mingled with Helen''s overflowing fluids, spilling out in a glistening stream. The sheer volume was astonishing¡ªenough that even the deep crimson of her blood had faded into a lighter pink, some traces disappearing entirely beneath the flood of release. I took a step back from the sweat-drenched bed, surveying the aftermath. The sheets were in complete disarray, twisted and damp with the evidence of our sex. My body, surprisingly, was still brimming with energy. I wasn''t exhausted in the slightest¡ªphysically, at least. But mentally? There was an undeniable sense of satisfaction, a deep, primal fulfillment that came from claiming the most beautiful woman in the world. After such an experience, how could I not feel this way? Helen lay before me, utterly ravaged. Her legs, still spread wide, trembled faintly as the last remnants of pleasure shuddered through her. Her most sacred place, glistening and still leaking, was on full display, the aftermath of our union slowly spilling onto the ruined sheets. Her face, flushed a deep shade of red, was a mess of sweat and exhaustion. Her golden hair clung to her damp skin in chaotic strands, framing the dazed expression of a woman utterly broken in pleasure. And her breasts¡ªmarked with my bites, covered in faint bruises, swollen from my relentless attention¡ªrose and fell with each uneven breath she took. A part of me¡ªno, most of me¡ªwanted to take fuck her again. My desire flared at the sight of her wrecked body, at the way she twitched from overstimulation, at the way she had succumbed completely to me. But I forced myself to resist. She needed rest, and I... I had other matters to attend to. Silently, I turned away, stepping into the adjacent chamber where warm water awaited me. The moment I submerged myself beneath the cascade, I let the heat wash over me, cleansing away the sweat, the lingering traces of our coupling, the remnants of the past hours. The scent of blood, sex, and sweat was finally replaced by something cleaner, something neutral. After drying off, I dressed in fresh clothes, the cool fabric settling against my skin as I prepared to leave. I cast one final glance at Helen, still sprawled on the bed, her breathing slow and steady, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. The temptation to stay lingered, but duty called. I stepped out of the chamber and walked through the dimly lit halls of the palace. Outside, the city was still alive with celebration¡ªfeasting, drinking, singing. The echoes of Troy''s revelry filled the night, but I had no desire to be seen or spoken to. With practiced ease, I navigated through the shadows, avoiding the revelers entirely before reaching the towering walls of the city. In a single effortless leap, I vaulted over them, landing silently on the other side. The battlefield stretched before me, eerily empty. The war that had raged here for months had left its scars, but the bodies of both Greeks and Trojans had long been cleared away. Only the faintest stains of blood remained, dark smudges against the sand, whispering of the countless lives lost beneath these moonlit skies. I walked forward, my hands tucked into my pockets, my stride unhurried. The cool night breeze kissed my skin, carrying with it a crispness that had been absent for far too long. The air no longer smelled of blood, no longer reeked of death and steel. For the first time in months, I could finally breathe some good air not reeking of blood. But my reason for walking alone through the barren landscape had nothing to do with enjoying the fresh night air. Not at all. I moved with quiet purpose, my steps steady as I left the outskirts of Troy behind. The distant sounds of revelry from the city faded into the background, swallowed by the silence of the abandoned battlefield. The cool breeze whispered against my skin, but my mind was elsewhere. My thoughts were fixed on what lay ahead. After ten minutes of walking, I came to a stop. My voice, calm and commanding, cut through the stillness of the night. "Drakkias." In an instant, the air trembled with power. A golden radiance illuminated the darkness, and from the void of the sky, a massive form descended. The mighty dragon, Drakkias, appeared before me, his scales gleaming under the moonlight like molten gold. His eyes, ancient and wise, met mine as he lowered his head in acknowledgment. Without hesitation, I climbed onto his back. With a single powerful motion, he unfurled his immense wings, the force of it stirring the sand beneath us. Then, with a mighty leap, we soared into the night, leaving Troy far behind. Our destination was a peculiar place¡ªLyrnessus. The journey would have taken days on foot, but with Drakkias, we covered the vast distance in less than half an hour. The ruined city soon came into view, its once-proud structures now reduced to rubble. The air here was different, thick with the weight of destruction and abandonment. As we descended, I leaped off Drakkias'' back before he even landed. The moment my feet touched the ground, I turned to him. "Go." With a huff of acknowledgment, Drakkias spread his golden wings once more and vanished into the sky, leaving me alone in the desolate ruins. Lyrnessus was a shadow of what it once had been. The city lay in ruin, its streets lifeless, its buildings crumbling under the weight of time and war. Yet, amidst the destruction, one structure remained standing¡ªthe castle. Without hesitation, I made my way toward it. The air inside was eerily still as I strode through the abandoned halls, my footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Dust clung to the remnants of past grandeur, but I ignored it all. My destination was clear¡ªthe throne room. As I stepped inside, I came to a halt at the center of the vast chamber. Then, it began. A soft glow, pink and divine, flickered into existence, spreading throughout the throne hall like a living force. The very air shimmered as a powerful barrier surged forth, enclosing the entire chamber in an impenetrable dome of radiant light. This was no ordinary magic. This was a Divine Barrier¡ªan impenetrable veil that shielded everything within from the eyes, ears, and senses of other gods. A moment later, she appeared. Aphrodite. She materialized in a gentle burst of pink radiance, her presence as intoxicating as the sweetest perfume. Her pink hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken waves, and her full lips curved into a soft, knowing smile. But before I could even utter a word, she vanished¡ªonly to reappear directly in front of me. Before I could react, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. Her body pressed against mine, soft and impossibly warm. Her ample breasts¡ªundoubtedly the largest I had ever seen¡ªmolded against my chest, her hardened nipples faintly pressing through the thin fabric separating us. The scent of her¡ªsweet, floral, and utterly divine¡ªfilled my lungs, intoxicating me. "I''m happy for you, Nate," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper. "You''ve finally healed your body." "I have," I confirmed, my voice steady. Then, without another word, I leaned in and captured her lips. Aphrodite responded instantly, her body melting against mine as I pulled her waist closer, deepening the kiss. My tongue traced her lips, teasing, demanding entry. She moaned softly into my mouth, her hands gripping the fabric of my clothes as if anchoring herself. "Hmmnn??~~" A soft, needy sound escaped her as I toyed with her lips, savoring her taste. When I finally pulled away, Aphrodite''s cheeks were flushed a delicate shade of pink, her breath uneven. "And you played no small part in that journey," I said, my voice low and appreciative. "Fufufu..." She chuckled, stepping back with an elegant sway of her hips. "I merely did the smallest part." I allowed myself a small smile, but it quickly faded as I met her gaze with renewed seriousness. "Is it truly time?" I asked. "It is," she affirmed, her expression turning soft yet resolute. "Everything is ready, don''t worry. Are you ready to finally see her, Nate? After all this time... after an entire year?" There was no hesitation in my answer. "I am." Aphrodite gave me a knowing smile before stepping aside, her movements graceful as ever. The divine barrier around us pulsed, its pink glow intensifying. A swirl of radiant energy gathered in the air, shimmering and twisting, as if the very fabric of divinity was bending to a higher will. Then, in the space before me, the swirling mass of light condensed¡ªtaking shape, solidifying into a portal bathed in ethereal pink radiance. My breath caught in my throat. It had been more than a year since I had last seen her. A year filled with war, bloodshed, and endless struggles. And yet... it felt like an eternity. A lifetime. Something inside me quaked, an unfamiliar trembling deep in my chest. I had longed for this moment, craved it so many times that it had become an ache buried beneath layers of discipline and restraint. But I had held myself back¡ªfor her sake. For her safety. There were nights when I had convinced myself that I would never see her again. That I had lost the right. That I would die before this day could ever come. But now... Now, that moment had finally arrived. The air grew still. From within the radiant portal, a shadow began to take form. Soft footsteps echoed as a figure emerged, stepping through the veil of light. A white gown fluttered gently as she moved. The same kind of dress Khione always wore. I felt my breath hitch. I had spent a lifetime preparing for battle, steeling myself against all things. And yet, at this moment, standing here, watching her step into the world once more¡ª I felt unprepared. Chapter 321: Reunion with Khione Chapter 321: Reunion with Khione Soft footsteps echoed as a figure emerged, stepping through the veil of light. A white gown fluttered gently as she moved. The same kind of dress Khione always wore. I felt my breath hitch. I had spent a lifetime preparing for battle, steeling myself against all things. And yet, at this moment, standing here, watching her step into the world once more¡ª I felt unprepared. Her foot stepped forward, emerging from the glowing portal¡ªgraceful, poised, and clad in elegant white heels. The hem of her gown followed, flowing like a whisper of wind, concealing the delicate curves of her body. Then, I saw her skin. That same flawless, snow-white complexion, once unique to her alone¡ªyet now, I shared it too. The moonlight touched her exposed shoulders, gliding down her slender neck and collarbone. Her long, silken white hair cascaded down her back, shining like freshly fallen snow. And then, her face. Her soft, perfect lips. Her delicate, elegant nose. And those eyes¡ªthose icy blue eyes that had always captivated me. Looking at her now, I remembered everything. The moment I first fell for her. The reason she would always be my first. The one I could never replace. Her expression remained cold, as always¡ªbut there was something different. A subtle change, a softness that had never been there before. And then, I saw why. She was holding something. No¡ªsomeone. A baby. Small and fragile, wrapped in soft white cloth. The child rested peacefully in her arms, undisturbed by the cool night breeze, its tiny chest rising and falling in deep slumber. I stood frozen. A baby. My baby. I turned to Aphrodite without thinking, still trying to process what I was seeing. She smiled¡ªa knowing, mischievous smile. "She wanted to keep it a secret for your reunion." I barely heard her. My eyes remained fixed on the child, on the small, delicate life that had come into this world while I was gone. Khione took slow, careful steps toward me, stopping just inches away. Then, without a word, she extended the baby toward me. I hesitated. My hands¡ªhands that had fought, killed, and destroyed without a second thought¡ªnow trembled as I reached out. Gently, more carefully than I had ever moved before, I took the child into my arms. It was so light. So delicate. So... beautiful. I held my breath, afraid even the sound of my heartbeat might wake it. This was mine. "What''s the name?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel something swelling inside me¡ªsomething overwhelming, something I had never felt before. Is this how my mother felt when she first held me? Khione''s gaze remained steady as she spoke. "I didn''t give her a name." I looked up, surprised. *She didn''t?* She nodded. "I thought you should be the one to name her." She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against the baby''s head, stroking the fine strands of hair. The gesture was so gentle, so unlike the Khione I knew. I couldn''t find the words to respond. "Why did you keep it?" I finally asked, my voice quieter, more uncertain than before. A part of me had believed she wouldn''t. After everything that had happened, I had thought she would never want to raise a child from me. But she had. She had chosen to. Khione met my gaze, her face unreadable at first. Then, slowly, her eyes softened, and she spoke. "Despite everything, you were my only true bond." Her gaze lowered to the baby in my arms, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she smiled. A real, soft, gentle smile. "You and her are my only reasons to live now." I looked down at the delicate bundle in my arms once more. The tiny infant, wrapped in soft silken cloth, slept peacefully, oblivious to the world around her. Her presence, so small yet so significant, felt like the embodiment of something sacred¡ªsomething that tethered me to a future I had never envisioned for myself. A slow breath escaped my lips before I finally spoke the name I had chosen. "Nivea." The word felt right, almost as if it had existed long before I uttered it, waiting for this very moment to be spoken into reality. "Nivea is a good name." Khione stood beside me, her icy blue eyes watching me with an unreadable expression. Then, she nodded, acknowledging my choice. A rare tenderness swelled within me. Holding Nivea securely in one arm, I reached out with my free hand and gently caressed Khione''s cheek. Her skin, cool as fresh snowfall, quivered beneath my fingertips. It had been a long time since I had touched her like this¡ªsince she had felt my warmth. A shiver ran through her, not from cold, but from something deeper.She knew what was coming. Khione closed her eyes, her long lashes fluttering ever so slightly. Her lips, soft and slightly parted, invited me closer. I leaned in, claiming them in a deep, slow kiss. A warmth spread between us, a stark contrast to the frost that often surrounded her. As my fingers continued to trace gentle strokes along her cheek, I deepened the kiss, pressing firmly against her lips, tasting her, savoring her. She responded in kind, matching my hunger, her breath mingling with mine. The world outside of this moment ceased to exist.When we finally parted, her face was tinged with a faint shade of pink¡ªa rare sight for the Goddess of Ice. She averted her gaze, clearing her throat as if attempting to suppress the emotions stirring within her. "I heard about your plan... from Aphrodite," she murmured, shifting the subject abruptly. It was a feeble attempt to mask her shyness, but I allowed it. "Is it true?"A smirk played on my lips. I turned my head slightly, my gaze shifting toward the empty space behind me where no one else should have been."Amaterasu." At my call, the air rippled. A brilliant golden light erupted, illuminating the space like a miniature sun had been ignited. Then, from within that radiant burst, a figure materialized¡ªAmaterasu, the Goddess of the Sun. She stepped forward gracefully, her regal presence undeniable. But what caught my interest most was the fleeting glimmer of surprise in her eyes."You noticed me?" she mused, sounding genuinely intrigued. "My mastery over the Forbidden Seal has grown," I replied smoothly. "I could sense both you and Khione the moment you arrived." At this, Amaterasu''s eyes widened slightly before she allowed a small, knowing smile to curve her lips. "After everything I''ve witnessed from you during the Trojan War, I suppose I shouldn''t be surprised by anything anymore." Her gaze flickered downward, settling upon the child in my arms. A mortal and a Goddess. A child born of two vastly different worlds. She didn''t say it aloud, but I could see the contemplation in her expression. This was not something that happened every day¡ªeven among deities, such a union was unheard of. But if there was one thing Amaterasu had come to understand, it was that I was no ordinary mortal.I shifted my attention slightly, my sharp eyes locking onto the other presence standing beside her. Kaguya.Her black hair shimmered under the glow of Amaterasu''s radiance, her ethereal beauty as breathtaking as ever. I studied her carefully, my lips pressing into a thin line. Bringing her here... I wasn''t entirely sure if it was the right decision. Not because I doubted her loyalty¡ªafter all, I had her Goddess bounded to me but because it could become dangerous. As if reading my mind, Amaterasu spoke. "Don''t worry. She''s only here as a precaution. If things go awry, she''ll ensure you''re taken away safely."I chuckled as I took a slow, deliberate step forward."I won''t run away, Amaterasu." "There won''t be any need for that," I said, my voice smooth yet laced with an underlying edge of finality. My eyes darkened, a shadow flickering across my gaze. "Everything will happen exactly as I planned." This moment had been set into motion two years ago. Back then, I had nothing¡ªno power, no allies, and certainly no chance of standing against a God. I had been nothing more than a mortal, staring up at an insurmountable wall, knowing that one day I would have to cross it. But today... things were different. I still wasn''t strong enough to fight a God alone. That much was undeniable. But now, I wasn''t alone. I had three Goddesses bound to my will¡ªeach one powerful, each one willing to obey. They would do anything I asked of them. I stepped toward Kaguya, shifting Nivea in my arms before carefully extending her toward her. Kaguya hesitated for only a moment before accepting the child, her white eyes widening in mild surprise. "Your only job," I said, my voice calm yet firm, "is to stay here and protect her. Do you understand?" She looked at me, then at the infant in her arms. A quiet moment passed before she finally nodded. "Yes... I understand." A smirk tugged at my lips. I leaned in slightly, just enough for my words to carry only to her. "Do it well," I murmured, "and maybe I''ll give you a baby too." Kaguya''s reaction was immediate. Her sharp glare burned into me, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her true feelings. She looked away, her grip tightening slightly around Nivea as if to focus her attention elsewhere. Satisfied, I turned around. Aphrodite. Khione. Amaterasu. The three Goddesses stood in a loose formation around me, their divine presence enough to shake the very air. They had followed me this far, each for their own reasons, yet in the end, they all belonged to me now. I fixed my gaze on Aphrodite. "If you''re here," I mused, "then that means the bait worked." Aphrodite smiled, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. "Oh, it worked beautifully," she purred. "Hermes isn''t trustworthy when it comes to alliances, but when it comes to stirring chaos over something he''s never witnessed before? Well, that''s another story entirely. He tricked Hera. She''s coming to deal with you." "She wouldn''t come alone I suppose?" Aphrodite''s smile widened. "You''re right. She won''t. Poseidon will be there too. He knows about your connection to Khione after all. He would want to know everything you know about Khione." At that, my amusement faded, replaced by something colder. "Perfect." My gaze flickered toward Khione, who stood silently beside me. A storm of emotions simmered beneath my exterior, but only one thing truly mattered now. It was finally time. Time to kill Poseidon¡ªthe arrogant God who once dared to claim Khione as his. And more importantly... I smirked. Time to enslave that insufferable, hot-tempered Goddess who had tried to kill me time and time again throughout the Trojan War. Chapter 322: Poseidon and Heras plan Chapter 322: Poseidon and Hera''s plan Hera was livid. Her divine essence seethed with an incandescent fury that threatened to shake the very foundations of Olympus itself. The unthinkable had happened¡ªthe Greeks had lost the Trojan War. It felt like a waking nightmare, a cruel jest woven by the Fates themselves. How could such a thing be possible? The Greeks had been the stronger force, their army vast and composed of the finest warriors to ever walk the earth. More than that, they had been led by the greatest of their kind¡ªmighty kings and warriors who had carved their names into history with blood and steel. Agamemnon, the High King, had been slain. Menelaus, who had sought vengeance for his stolen wife, lay dead. Ajax, the indomitable warrior, had fallen. Even Heracles, the son of Zeus himself, had perished. It was inconceivable. By all logic, by all divine decree, the Greeks should have triumphed. Their superiority was undeniable. Even the gods themselves had tipped the scales in their favor. Hera herself, alongside Athena¡ªthe goddess of wisdom and victory¡ªhad stood unwaveringly behind the Greeks. And yet, it had not been enough. Despite their backing, despite their meticulous interference, the Greeks had been utterly and irrevocably defeated. The final blow to her expectations, the ultimate betrayal of fate, had come from Achilles. He had been her trump card, the lynchpin of her grand design. Yet, in a turn of events that defied all reason, he had changed sides. The mighty Achilles had abandoned the Greeks, lured away by love, and had even fathered a child. It was incomprehensible. It was infuriating. Everything had been set in place for a Greek victory. The Trojans had been vastly outmatched¡ªonly Hector, their noble prince, and the Amazonian queen Penthesilea had been worth mentioning. And yet, against all odds, against every law of destiny, Troy had emerged victorious. Both Hector and Penthesilea still lived, standing triumphant amidst the ruins of what should have been their downfall. But Hera knew¡ªthis unnatural shift in fate had a cause. A single man had tipped the balance of history, reshaping the very fabric of the war itself. His name was Heiron, but he was known as the Hero of Darkness. Or, as Hera now understood with bitter clarity, his true name¡ªNathan Parker. A man who should not exist. He had once been summoned by the Light Emperor, a chosen hero, only to be struck down and slaughtered by the accursed Liphiel. He should have remained dead. And yet, defying death itself, he had returned. Not once, but twice. And this time, he had turned the tide of war. Nathan Parker¡ªHeiron, Samael, the accursed Hero of Darkness¡ªhad slain Ajax. He had slain Heracles. And in the final, crushing moment of victory, he had cut down Agamemnon himself. The Greeks had never stood a chance. Hera trembled with rage. She had tried¡ªoh, how she had tried¡ªto rid the world of him. Time and time again, she had reached out with her divine might to end him before he could reshape destiny. She had sent assassins, conjured plagues, whispered omens of doom to those who could act against him. And yet, every time, her efforts had been thwarted. Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Ares¡ªthose meddling gods¡ªhad shielded him at every turn, countering her every move, ensuring his survival. And now, it was too late. Nathan Parker had won. And the last look he had given her before vanishing from the battlefield... it had been a promise. A silent, chilling promise. A promise of vengeance. Hera clenched her fists, her divine nails digging into her palms hard enough to draw golden ichor. Nathan Parker was dangerous. And he was coming for her. Hera did not know when, nor did she know how. But she was certain of one thing¡ªhe would come. The look he had given her after Troy''s fall had been more than enough to make her uneasy. It was not the glare of a mere mortal who despised a goddess. No, it was something far worse. It was the look of a man who had already decided her fate. She had witnessed ambition, hatred, and revenge countless times over the centuries, but never before had she felt such an ominous foreboding. Nathan was progressing at an alarming rate, far faster than anyone should. His strength, his influence, his very existence were growing into something monstrous, something unnatural. At the rate he was advancing, there would come a time when even she¡ªHera, Queen of the Gods¡ªwould not be able to touch him. And that was unacceptable. That was why she had made up her mind. He had to die. The Trojan War was over, which meant Apollo, Artemis, and the others who had protected him would no longer interfere. Their interests had been tied to the war, but now that it was settled, Nathan was nothing more than a loose end¡ªa powerful, unpredictable anomaly that needed to be erased before he became untouchable. And now, she had her chance. Hera''s opportunity came the moment Hermes informed her that Nathan had left Troy and was traveling to Lyrnessus. She did not hesitate. Summoning the mighty sea god, she called upon Poseidon himself. She needed no elaborate persuasion¡ªPoseidon was already eager to act. Nathan had used Khione''s power during the war, unleashing its full force on the battlefield. That had not gone unnoticed. The moment he had done so, Poseidon had sensed her presence. Had it not been for Zeus''s command forbidding him from interfering in the war, Poseidon would have struck Nathan down then and there. But now, Zeus was no longer holding him back. Now, Poseidon was free. And he had no intention of letting this insult go unanswered. Nathan Parker, a mere mortal¡ªa man¡ªhad a connection to his Khione. The very thought of it was enough to make Poseidon seethe with rage. A mortal wielding the power of the goddess of snow and frost? It was an affront. An impossibility. Something that should not exist. If not for Zeus''s decree, he would have drowned all of Troy in a towering wave of divine fury. But now, patience had rewarded him. The opportunity had come. Hera and Poseidon descended from the heavens, their divine forms shimmering as they stepped onto the mortal plane. They hovered above the city of Lyrnessus, looking down at their prey. Poseidon turned his gaze to Hera, his deep blue eyes filled with anticipation. "Zeus... what of him?" he asked, wary of his brother''s watchful gaze. Hera''s expression darkened, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Do not concern yourself with him," she said coldly. With a snap of her fingers, a shimmering veil of divine energy rippled outward, engulfing the entire city below. A barrier¡ªone crafted from her own divine authority. "He will not see anything that happens here," she continued, her voice dripping with confidence. Poseidon grinned. "Good. Just to be sure..." He raised his hand and snapped his fingers as well, layering his own divine barrier over hers. The twin divine seals pulsed, entwining and solidifying into an impenetrable shroud. Even Zeus himself would not be able to see through it¡ªnot unless he came down to Lyrnessus in person. And why would he? The city was insignificant. There was no reason for him to interfere. They were free to do as they pleased. Poseidon crossed his arms and looked at Hera expectantly. "Are you certain he''s here?" Hera smirked. "Yes," she said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Look." Poseidon followed Hera''s gaze, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as they locked onto the lone figure emerging from the grand halls of Lyrnessus. It was him. Nathan Parker. The mortal walked with an air of quiet confidence, his every step unhurried, oblivious to the divine eyes that watched from above. There was no sign of tension in his posture, no flicker of awareness that he was being hunted. He was simply... walking. Poseidon tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "What is he doing here alone?" he mused aloud. Hera scoffed beside him, folding her arms across her chest. "Who cares?" she snapped. "Just get the information you want and kill him afterward." Poseidon smirked. He had no objections to that. In an instant, his divine presence flared, and he vanished from the sky. A heartbeat later, he reappeared directly in front of Nathan, blocking his path. The earth trembled beneath him as he tapped the end of his golden trident against the ground, sending a wave of power rippling through the stone. Dust and debris scattered at the force, but the mortal before him did not flinch. Nathan merely stopped in his tracks, his cold silver eyes locking onto Poseidon''s with unnerving calmness. The god of the sea grinned, tilting his head as he took in the sight of the man who had defied fate itself. "You have been quite busy, haven''t you?" Poseidon mused, amusement dripping from his voice. "Dying... getting reborn by some unknown force... and then killing Agamemnon. But tell me¡ª" He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "Did you really think you could get away scot-free after drawing the attention of so many gods?" The ground beneath them rumbled as he pressed his trident against the earth once more, cracks splitting outward like veins of destruction. Yet despite the show of power, Nathan remained eerily composed. "Are you here to kill me?" the mortal asked, his voice level, unreadable. "Both of you?" Poseidon chuckled darkly. "Oh?" He glanced up at Hera, who still hovered above, watching with cold, detached satisfaction. "No, only Hera wants you dead." His smirk grew. "I only want information about my dear Khione." A lie. Nathan could tell instantly. The way Poseidon''s eyes gleamed with malice, the way his fingers tightened around the shaft of his trident ever so slightly¡ªit was obvious. Even if he handed over the information, Poseidon would not let him leave this place alive. Nathan had already been sentenced. The god of the sea was merely waiting to pass judgment. Nathan''s lips curled slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Does Zeus know that the two of you are here?" he asked next. Poseidon threw his head back and laughed, his voice deep and resounding like the crashing of waves against an unshaken cliff. "Kahaha! You''re hoping for my brother to save you? How foolish." His laughter faded into a low, predatory chuckle. "No. Zeus won''t be coming. He doesn''t even know where we are. No one does." His smile turned cold. "So you''d best start talking." But then¡ª Nathan''s smirk deepened. He tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his demonic gold eyes. "No one knows you said?" ?????? ????????????????? ?????? ?????????? ???????? ????? ???????????????????? ?????? ????????? ?? ??????? ????????? ????????? Chapter 323: Fight against Poseidon and Hera Chapter 323: Fight against Poseidon and Hera "No one knows you said?" Hera''s frown deepened as she caught sight of the smug smirk playing on Nathan''s lips. "Why are you smiling? Have you lost your mind?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. Before Nathan could respond, a deep, rumbling laughter echoed through the air¡ªPoseidon''s laughter, mocking and carefree, as if he found the situation amusing. Nathan''s expression did not change, but his eyes darkened, the mirth vanishing in an instant. "Not at all. I''m just pleased to see both of you here," he said smoothly, his gaze lifting to meet theirs. The warmth in his voice was gone in a heartbeat. BADOOOM! An overwhelming force surged through the air, and in an instant, the city of Lyrnessus was consumed by a deadly, biting cold. Ice spread with terrifying speed, a crystalline wave swallowing everything in sight. The buildings, the streets, even the very ground¡ªencased in thick, unrelenting frost. Poseidon, caught off guard, barely had a moment to react before his body was frozen solid where he stood, his expression of shock preserved beneath the ice. Hera''s eyes widened in disbelief. "What?!" She knew this power. She recognized it. But before she could process what was happening, a series of shimmering golden barriers materialized in the sky, encasing the city within multiple layers of divine protection. Three barriers¡ªeach distinct from the others. This wasn''t just a single divine force at play. A realization struck her like a lightning bolt. Three different divine barriers... Hera''s instincts screamed at her in warning. Danger. Immediate, overwhelming danger. She turned, preparing to summon her power¡ª BADOOOOM! A searing column of fire crashed down from the heavens, engulfing her entire form in an inferno of divine flames. The sheer force of the impact sent her spiraling through the air before she plummeted to the frozen earth below, colliding with the ground so violently that the city trembled. Pain exploded through her body. Her very bones ached from the impact. But that pain was nothing compared to the sheer horror rising in her chest as she recognized the flames that had struck her. A name escaped her lips in a breathless whisper, barely audible. "A...Amaterasu?!" Disbelief flooded her. It couldn''t be. It shouldn''t be. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look up¡ªand there, floating above her, bathed in a crimson glow, was Amaterasu herself. The goddess gazed down upon Hera with an unreadable expression before slowly raising a hand, divine energy crackling at her fingertips. BADOOOOM! The ground beneath Hera erupted in a blinding explosion of red divine light. She barely had time to react before the force sent her staggering backward, her armor cracking under the sheer magnitude of power. "Damn it!" she hissed, summoning her shield in desperation. BADOOOOM! The shield held¡ªfor a moment. Then it shattered, the impact sending her skidding across the ice-covered ground. Blood trickled down her forehead, her vision swimming. She couldn''t afford to stop. She needed to move. Forcing herself up, she sprinted toward the remnants of a nearby house, hoping to regroup, but just as she leaped onto the roof¡ª BADDOOOOOOOM! Another explosion erupted. This time, it wasn''t fire. A freezing storm of ice engulfed her, the numbing cold seeping into her very bones. Hera''s breath hitched, her movements slowing, her limbs heavy. She fought to regain control, but before she could counterattack¡ª A shadow descended upon her. Amaterasu appeared, wielding a blazing sword that burned hotter than the sun. Hera barely had time to raise her arms in defense before the sword came crashing down. BADOOOOM!!! The sheer force sent her soaring through the air before she slammed into the frozen ground yet again, a crater forming beneath her. Coughing, her entire body aching, she struggled to push herself up. But before she could even catch her breath¡ª A heel came crashing down against her stomach. BADAAAAM! "UAGHH!" Hera''s mouth opened in a sharp gasp as blood spewed from her lips. Her dazed vision flickered, trying to focus on the figure standing over her. A feminine silhouette, her aura radiating with divine power. And then she saw the smirk. The unmistakable, cruel grin stretching across her lips. Aphrodite. Standing above her, reveling in her pain, looking every bit the goddess of beauty and destruction. "You look awful, Hera," Aphrodite purred, her tone dripping with amusement. "Let''s see how much more you can take." BADOOOM! Hera unleashed a torrent of divine energy, forcing Aphrodite to swiftly dodge. The goddess of beauty smirked as she evaded the attack, her expression playful yet laced with menace. "A...Aphrodite, you little bitch..." Hera''s face twisted with fury, her eyes burning with an anger she had never felt so intensely before. Her blood boiled as she turned toward Amaterasu, her rage now shifting to the sun goddess floating above. "Even you, Amaterasu... how dare you..." she spat venomously. Amaterasu met Hera''s glare with an impassive expression, her golden eyes radiating calm yet unshakable power. "You should have never come here, Hera. The moment you stepped into Lyrnessus, your fate¡ªand Poseidon''s¡ªwas sealed." She cast a fleeting glance at Poseidon, who had just shattered the thick ice imprisoning him. The sea god''s muscles tensed as he regained his footing, his expression a mix of rage and confusion. Hera''s own eyes widened in shock as she surveyed their surroundings. The barriers, the city, the very ground beneath their feet¡ªit was all pulsating with divine energy. An eerie shimmer coated the air, signifying that this battlefield had been carefully prepared long before their arrival. The moment of realization hit her like a thunderclap. "H...Hermes..." Her mind flashed to the cunning trickster god, his ever-present grin taunting her even in her thoughts. Hera''s body trembled with fury. That bastard had deceived her. Everything¡ªNathan''s supposed isolation, his presence in this city¡ªit had all been an elaborate trap, meticulously crafted to ensnare both her and Poseidon. And they had walked right into it. "P...Poseidon! We must flee! The city is a trap!" Hera shouted desperately, panic creeping into her voice. But Poseidon was deaf to her warning. His focus was solely on the figure standing before him¡ªKhione. His sea-green eyes raked over her, a twisted grin forming on his lips as he licked them hungrily. "Khione." He practically purred her name, his gaze drinking in her ethereal beauty. "Finally, you''re back where you belong. I''ve missed you more than you can imagine. Now come to me, and let''s have that promised night together." Khione''s expression remained cold, her frosty blue eyes piercing into his with disgust. "Unfortunately for you, Poseidon, that ship has sailed. I lost my virginity." The words hung in the air like a death knell. Poseidon''s grin faltered, then vanished completely. His divine aura darkened, the very foundation of the city trembling under the weight of his swirling emotions. "What?" he growled, his voice thick with barely restrained fury. Khione pointed toward Nathan. "Nathan took my first time." A sickening silence followed. Poseidon''s eyes darted to Nathan, who stood nearby with an insufferable smirk playing on his lips. For the sea god, that smirk was the final spark to ignite his wrath. He vanished in an instant. BADOOOOM! A deafening explosion rocked the city as Poseidon swung his trident, aiming to cleave Nathan in two. But before the weapon could strike, an impenetrable wall of glacial ice erupted between them. The impact was catastrophic¡ªthe ice cracked violently before shattering into a storm of frost and shards, yet Nathan was nowhere to be found. Poseidon''s furious gaze darted around, his grip on his trident tightening. The city quaked beneath his rage, but the battle had only just begun. "WHERE ARE YOU, TRASH?!!" Poseidon''s thunderous roar echoed across the battlefield, his expression twisted into a mask of unrelenting fury. His ocean-blue eyes burned with murderous intent, his grip tightening around his trident until the metal groaned in protest. Every fiber of his being screamed for destruction¡ªto unleash a cataclysmic tsunami and reduce everything in sight to ruin. But he knew he couldn''t. Not here. Not now. If he did, Zeus would intervene, and he wasn''t willing to risk his brother''s interference. No, this was personal. He wanted to find Nathan. He wanted to rip the insolent brat apart, tear him limb from limb, and listen to him beg for mercy that would never come. But just as he took another step forward¡ª A searing torrent of golden flames crashed into his face, sending waves of unbearable heat washing over his body. The divine fire of Amaterasu seared his flesh, and he let out a guttural snarl as he stumbled backward. Before he could fully regain his balance, a shadow loomed above him. A massive greatsword, nearly the size of a mountain, came hurtling toward him at blinding speed. Khione! Poseidon''s instincts kicked in, and he immediately raised his trident, summoning a torrential wave of water to counter the incoming attack. A vast surge of the ocean erupted from his weapon, spiraling toward the sword¡ªonly for the water to instantly solidify into ice. "Tch!" He clicked his tongue in irritation, pouring more divine energy into his trident. This time, his water turned her ice back into liquid. Their divine powers clashed in a relentless battle, freezing and melting, shifting and reforming. But strangely, Khione refused to relent. She pushed forward with unrelenting determination, forcing him back. Step by step. Inch by inch. Until¡ª His back slammed into something. A massive, blazing wall of Amaterasu''s fire had risen behind him, cutting him off from retreat. The scorching heat licked at his skin, sending waves of divine energy crashing against his body. To his right, an enormous glacier of Khione''s ice had formed, sealing off any chance of escape. He could destroy them. It would take time. But it was possible. Yet, wasting time was not an option. Narrowing his eyes, Poseidon shifted his stance. Without hesitation, he leapt to the left, intending to escape the encirclement¡ª And then he saw him. Nathan. Sitting on the ground, completely at ease. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if he had been expecting this moment all along. Poseidon''s fury ignited once more. "You arrogant little¡ª" He shot forward, trident poised to strike. "Idiot." Nathan said a single word. Poseidon''s heart lurched. Something was wrong. A sudden chill ran down his spine. And then he saw it. The intricate formation surrounding him. A colossal circle of divine power had been etched into the battlefield, glowing with an intensity that sent shivers of dread through his very core. Amaterasu''s flames burned in one half, seething with unquenchable heat, while Khione''s ice shimmered in the other, radiating a deathly frost. The energies crackled and intertwined, forming a perfect balance of destruction¡ªone that had been prepared for days. Poseidon''s breath caught in his throat. A true Divine Magic spell. Forged by not one, but three goddesses. It was a trap. And he had walked right into it. His eyes widened in horror. "No..." A split second later¡ª BADDOOOOOM!!!! The battlefield erupted. The heavens seemed to shatter as the explosion tore through the earth, splitting the ground as if a hole had been punched straight into the planet''s core. A blinding inferno of divine fire and glacial destruction consumed everything in its path, swallowing Poseidon whole. The impact shook the very foundations of the world, sending shockwaves rippling across the land. Chapter 324: Enslaving the Third Goddess Chapter 324: Enslaving the Third Goddess The heavens seemed to shatter as the explosion tore through the earth, splitting the ground as if a hole had been punched straight into the planet''s core. A blinding inferno of divine fire and glacial destruction consumed everything in its path, swallowing Poseidon whole. The impact shook the very foundations of the world, sending shockwaves rippling across the land. Fortunately, the devastation did not extend beyond the confines of the city. From the outside, there was no indication of the battle raging within¡ªno thunderous explosions, no cries of pain, not even the faintest echo of destruction. The reason for this eerie silence lay in the five divine barriers encasing Lyrnessus, powerful constructs woven by celestial hands to contain all sound, energy, and force within their shimmering confines. To the rest of the world, the city remained untouched, undisturbed. At most, an occasional tremor might have rippled through the distant lands, subtle enough to be mistaken for a natural occurrence. No one outside would suspect that the gods themselves were waging war within these walls. For a brief moment, thick plumes of smoke veiled the battlefield, obscuring the aftermath of the catastrophic assault. The ground where Poseidon had borne the full brunt of two Divine Rank Spells¡ªspells that had been meticulously crafted and fortified over the past days¡ªwas nothing more than scorched ruin. The sheer force of the combined magic had shattered the terrain, leaving deep fissures in the earth, but more importantly, it had struck down one of the mightiest gods of Olympus. And then, through the dissipating smoke, his figure emerged. "GAGHR!" A wet, gurgling sound tore through the battlefield as Poseidon staggered forward, blood spilling in a violent torrent from his mouth and splattering onto the charred ground beneath him. His once-pristine divine form was now a grotesque mockery of itself¡ªhis flesh, once unyielding and godlike, had been seared away in places, exposing the eerie, marble-white bones beneath. His body, though still standing, looked barely capable of sustaining itself. By all rights, he should have perished from such an attack. Any lesser deity would have been obliterated. Yet Poseidon¡ªGod of the Seas, one of Olympus'' greatest¡ªstill clung to existence, a testament to his unfathomable power. Even so, he had not emerged unscathed, and the weight of his own mortality settled over him like a suffocating tide. He had fallen into a trap. A simple, foolish trap. His ragged breaths came in uneven heaves, his chest rising and falling in strained desperation. A thin veil of water shimmered around his body, a desperate attempt to mend his injuries, to restore his divine frame. But it was slow. Agonizingly slow. His gaze darkened. Gone was the arrogance, the amusement that once danced in his eyes. What remained was something colder, sharper¡ªa seething rage that burned from within. He had come close to death. Too close. And that was something he could not¡ªwould not¡ªforgive. "K...Khione..." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of his fury. His piercing gaze locked onto the goddess before him, standing with an air of icy indifference. Again. That look. That cold, detached expression she always wore, as if he were beneath her notice. How he had always wished to break it. A slow, cruel smirk curled at the corner of his lips despite his pain. "I am going to¡ª" "Divine Rank Skill." A whisper, barely audible. Yet the moment it reached Poseidon''s ears, an unnatural chill raced down his spine. His instincts screamed at him, but it was already too late. He turned sharply¡ªonly to feel a hand resting lightly against his back. Nathan. The white-haired mortal stood there, a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze gleaming with something unreadable. There was no hesitation. No mercy. Only the certainty of what came next. "Death Curse." The moment the words left Nathan''s lips, the air shifted. A dreadful, suffocating chill swept across the battlefield, wrapping around Poseidon like unseen chains. An unbearable coldness seeped into his very essence, an all-consuming void that gnawed at him from within. His body trembled violently as his knees buckled beneath him. "Wha... what... is... happening...?" His voice wavered in shock as his gaze dropped to his hands¡ªonly to see them being devoured by an abyssal blackness. His very existence was unraveling. He was going to die. No¡ªhe was dying. The realization struck Poseidon with the force of a tidal wave. His once-mighty body, revered and feared across the realms, was now succumbing to a force he had never imagined possible. A mere mortal had bested him. His wide, sea-colored eyes, once filled with arrogance and divine superiority, now reflected nothing but pure disbelief. "I... Impossible!" he howled, his voice raw with desperation. It was inconceivable. Unthinkable. He was Poseidon¡ªone of the Twelve Olympians, ruler of the seas, master of storms and tides! He had battled titans, laid waste to entire civilizations, and reshaped the very land with his trident. And yet... here he was, kneeling before a mortal, his divine essence unraveling like thread in the wind. Nathan remained unfazed by his anguish. With a calm, almost dismissive tone, he turned his golden, demonic eyes toward the watching goddess. "You can leave now, Khione," he said simply. Khione had been standing silently, her icy gaze fixed upon Poseidon''s writhing form. For so many years, this man¡ªno, this wretched god¡ªhad tormented her. She had lost count of how many times he had tried to force himself upon her, how many others had suffered his cruelty. She had no allies among the gods, no friends, because of him. His whims had dictated her existence, his arrogance had made her life a prison. And now, at long last, he was paying the price. All because of the man she had summoned. Her cold eyes flickered toward Nathan, taking in his poised stance, the way his golden irises gleamed in the dim battlefield light. There was something undeniably captivating about him¡ªthis mortal who had done the impossible. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and for the first time in what felt like eternity she felt proud of having such a man as her husband, a faint blush warmed her usually frigid cheeks. She turned away, heading toward where Aphrodite and Amaterasu were battling Hera. If they hadn''t already taken her down, she would ensure they did. Nathan, meanwhile, took a slow, measured step forward, his gaze never leaving Poseidon. "Look at you," he muttered, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. "The great Poseidon... reduced to this." Poseidon''s teeth clenched in pure hatred. His once-great form was shaking, his power ebbing away with every passing second. He forced himself to lift his gaze, his expression contorted with fury and humiliation. "You... you bastard," he growled, his voice trembling from rage and pain. Nathan remained unimpressed. "You shouldn''t have tried to lay a hand on Khione," he said coldly. His golden eyes darkened with possessiveness. "Khione is mine." Poseidon''s expression twisted further, his pride refusing to crumble even in the face of death. "You... you will die for this," he spat, his voice rising with desperate conviction. "Killing a god is a crime beyond measure! My brothers will avenge me! Zeus¡ªHades¡ªthey will come for you!" Nathan chuckled. A slow, deep laugh that sent a shiver down Poseidon''s spine. "They won''t even know you were killed," he said, tilting his head slightly. "What are you talking about?" The realization dawned on Poseidon like a hammer striking his skull. The five Divine Barriers. They sealed everything¡ªsound, presence, divine energy. Not even Olympus could sense what had transpired within them. Even his own divine barrier, which had been meant to protect him, now worked against him. He had dug his own grave. For a fleeting moment, panic surged through him. No one would even know. Zeus might assume that Poseidon had retreated in shame, sulking in some distant corner of the world after the greeks lost the Trojan war. Hades, ever indifferent, would not question his absence. The gods would move on. "You... you seem to understand now," Nathan murmured, watching Poseidon''s expression shift from defiance to horror. But still, the sea god refused to surrender completely. A flicker of hope burned within him. "I... I won''t die!" he declared, forcing strength into his voice. "I will go to Tartaros! I will be reborn in the Underworld, and there, I will find my brother Hades! He will know! He will¡ª" Nathan''s smirk deepened. Poseidon stopped. Why... why wasn''t the mortal reacting? A creeping sense of dread crawled over him. Nathan wasn''t worried. He knew something. Something Poseidon didn''t. Nathan said nothing, but his smirk alone sent Poseidon''s blood running cold. Because deep within Tartaros, beneath the watchful gaze of Hades himself, there was another force at play. A certain Thanatos awaited. And Thanatos would ensure that Hades never even realized his brother had been trapped in the abyss below his feet. Of course, he wasn''t going to say anything. Nathan simply stood there, watching as the last remnants of divine power flickered and faded from Poseidon''s broken form. The once-mighty god, ruler of the seas, had been reduced to nothing but a withering corpse. Nathan''s golden eyes gleamed coldly. "I hope you do come back one day," he murmured, his voice carrying a chilling edge. "By then, I''ll be even stronger¡ªstrong enough to kill you with my own hands. So, I truly hope you return to fulfill this wish of mine." Poseidon''s hate-filled glare remained locked onto him, but there was nothing he could do. Then, just like that¡ªhe was gone. The god of the seas had perished. Nathan didn''t spare him another glance. Without hesitation, he turned away, his steps echoing in the silence. The battlefield had quieted. The sounds of clashing divine forces¡ªthe fierce battle between Amaterasu, Aphrodite, and Hera¡ªhad dulled to a near silence. Nathan walked forward, and soon, his gaze fell upon the three goddesses. All of them stood victorious¡ªsave for one. Hera knelt on the ground, her breathing ragged, her once-imposing figure trembling with exhaustion and anger. Her golden hair, once pristine and regal, was disheveled, and her proud, haughty expression had been replaced with sheer rage. "I... I will never forgive you for that..." she spat, her voice laced with venom. Nathan tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You''re still speaking as if you have power, Hera," he said mockingly. Hera''s glare snapped toward him as he approached, and her fury only deepened. "I... I am the QUEEN OF THE GODS!!" she shrieked, her voice echoing across the battlefield. "RELEASE ME!!" Nathan let out a quiet chuckle. "Queen of the Gods?" he mused, stepping even closer. "Well...not for long." He raised his hand. A divine white glow emanated from his palm, surrounding Hera''s kneeling form. The air trembled as ancient power surged forth, wrapping around her body like chains forged from pure divinity. Hera''s breath hitched. Something was wrong. Her limbs wouldn''t respond¡ªher very essence was being locked away. Her body convulsed, and then, she froze in absolute horror. A mark, intricate and pulsing with forbidden energy, began to etch itself onto her chest. "N... NOOO...!!!" she screamed, her voice shaking with desperation and fear. Nathan''s golden eyes darkened as he gazed down at her, his expression utterly devoid of mercy. "Forbidden Seal." Hera trembled violently, the last vestiges of her divine authority slipping away. She was no longer the Queen of the Gods. She was nothing but a slave. His slave. Chapter 325: The Wounded Heroes of the Light Empire (1) Chapter 325: The Wounded Heroes of the Light Empire (1) Before the Trojan War reached its inevitable conclusion, the Heroes of Light had already abandoned the blood-soaked battlefield, departing from Trojan soil and setting sail back to the Empire of Light. Their decision was not made lightly, but in the end, exhaustion, disillusionment, and the sheer brutality of the conflict left them with no reason to remain. What had once seemed like a righteous battle, a clash of legends, had devolved into something far more monstrous¡ªsomething none of them had anticipated. The war had escalated to levels of violence beyond their comprehension. Both the Greeks and Trojans had become unrecognizable, their forces swollen with beings that defied the natural order. Monstrous creatures stalked the battlefield, warriors fought like demons possessed, and the very air was thick with an aura of malevolence. It was no longer just a war between men; it was something darker, something wholly unnatural. Sienna, the strongest among them, had suffered grievous wounds. The sight of her, usually so unshakable, so indomitable, brought low in battle had shaken them all to their core. She had been their role model, their pillar of strength¡ªboth back in high school and in this new, unforgiving world. If even she, the mightiest among them, could fall, then what hope did the rest have? Athena''s swift intervention had saved her, but that moment had been the final straw. They could no longer ignore the truth. They were out of their depth. To make matters worse, Liphiel, the Divine Knight who had been leading them since Radakel''s death, had died as well. Her death had left them adrift, leaderless, and uncertain. She had been their guide, their authority in this foreign land, and with her gone, the fragile structure that had kept them moving forward collapsed entirely. Jason and Aidan, two of their most formidable warriors, had also sustained serious injuries. The weight of leadership, then, had fallen upon Siara. And she, understanding the growing despair in her comrades, had been the first to make the call¡ªto leave. It wasn''t a decision made out of cowardice, but rather out of grim understanding. They were no longer fighting for anything. They had no stake in this war, and to remain was to throw their lives away for a cause that wasn''t theirs. One by one, their classmates had agreed. Their pride was wounded, their spirits shaken, but in the end, survival took precedence. With the surviving knights of the Light Empire, they boarded their ships and turned their backs on the Achaean continent. It was their first true war¡ªand, without a doubt, the worst experience of their lives. The bitter truth was that they had been woefully unprepared. A few months of fighting demons and beasts had not been enough to prepare them for the horrors of large-scale warfare. They had been naive, blinded by the intoxicating rush of their own strength. In Uteska, they had known defeat, but after that, they had grown¡ªbecoming stronger, more confident, even arrogant. They had convinced themselves that they could handle war. Though their bodies had endured the trials of war¡ªbolstered by the blessings of the gods and the formidable skills they had honed¡ªthere was an entirely different battle they had failed to prepare for. The war had not only tested their strength but had also ravaged their minds. The horrors they had witnessed, the blood they had shed, and the overwhelming reality of their mortality had left them shattered in ways they had never imagined. Physically, they had survived. Mentally, they were crumbling. More than anything, they just wanted to go home. Not to the Light Empire, which had claimed them as its champions, but home¡ªback to Earth. Back to their families, their old lives, their simple worries and mundane struggles. At first, being transported to this world had been exhilarating. It had felt like an adventure, a dream come true. But that dream had twisted into a nightmare. This world was a place of constant danger, where death lurked behind every misstep, where war was not a game but a relentless, merciless force that swallowed the unprepared whole. The strain was unbearable for some. The weaker ones had already retreated into themselves, desperately craving peace of mind. Others, however, burned with something else entirely¡ªrage. "SHIT! SHIT! SHITT!!!!!" A furious roar tore through the air, echoing across the wooden deck of the ship as Aidan erupted. It had been a week since he regained consciousness, his body barely recovering from the grievous wounds he had sustained in the war. And now, as he stood there, his face twisted in fury, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, his classmates instinctively took a step back. They had been walking on eggshells around him ever since he woke up. Aidan had always been hot-headed, but this was different. There was something unhinged about his rage now, something raw and dangerous. It unsettled them. It wasn''t just his injuries that fueled his outburst. It was humiliation. Pure, seething humiliation. His last memory on Trojan soil was burned into his mind¡ªHeiron''s disdainful gaze, looking down at him as if he weren''t even worth finishing off. That bastard hadn''t even deemed him a threat. Aidan could still see it, the way Heiron had barely acknowledged him before walking away, his expression one of absolute indifference. And that was the truth, wasn''t it? Nathan didn''t care about Aidan. Not anymore. Perhaps there had been a time when Nathan sought revenge against him, a time when old grudges still mattered. But that was the Nathan of the past. That Nathan had long since faded, buried beneath everything he had endured and the power he had gained. Now, Aidan was nothing to him. Just another insignificant figure in a world where strength was everything. "C-Calm down, man... Aidan..." One of his friends hesitantly reached out, trying to soothe him, but Aidan wasn''t having it. "SHUT UP!!" His voice cracked like a whip as he slapped the hand away violently, his eyes blazing with fury. His friends recoiled, their fear evident. They had never seen him like this before. And the worst part? Aidan knew exactly why he was so angry. It wasn''t just about Heiron. It was about himself. His own weakness. He had dreamt of it last night¡ªa nightmare that played on repeat, Heiron''s cold, dismissive gaze boring into his soul. It was torture, an agony that clawed at him from the inside. He wanted to rip Heiron apart, to crush him, to wipe that look off his face forever. But he wasn''t stupid. He knew the truth, and that truth burned. He was too weak. And so, in his frustration, with no way to strike back at the one who had humiliated him, he lashed out at the only people around him¡ªhis own classmates. None of his classmates dared to approach him. They had seen Aidan angry before, but this... this was different. There was something feral about him now, something unhinged. Even the knights accompanying them remained silent, exchanging wary glances but making no move to intervene. The more time passed, the more volatile Aidan became, and none of them wanted to be caught in the explosion. The tension in the air was suffocating¡ªuntil an irritated voice broke through the silence. "Can''t you shut up, Aidan?" It was sharp, cutting through the weight of the moment with absolute authority. Aidan''s head snapped toward the source, his fury flaring. Only one person on this ship would dare to speak to him like that. "What?!" he snarled. Jason Spencer stood there, his posture casual but his gaze unwavering. He wore a simple linen shirt, but the bandages wrapped tightly around his stomach were evidence of the wounds he had suffered during the war. Atalanta''s arrows had struck deep, and even with divine healing, the recovery was slow. Like Aidan, Jason was furious about their pathetic defeat, about the way they had fled from the battlefield like cowards. But unlike Aidan, he controlled his emotions. His anger wasn''t a raging fire¡ªit was cold, smoldering, calculated. "I said calm down," Jason repeated, his tone laced with irritation. "You''re being too damn noisy. If you want to kill Heiron so badly, we can turn the ship around and drop you off back there. Who knows? Maybe the war''s still going on." Aidan groaned, his entire body tensing with frustration. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. "FUCK IT!!" BADAM! With a roar of rage, he slammed his fist into the wooden guardrail of the ship, shattering it into splinters. The force of the blow sent cracks running through the wood, and a few startled knights stepped back, their hands instinctively moving toward their weapons. "Why the fuck are these skills so weak?!" Aidan growled, his breathing ragged. They were supposed to be Heroes¡ªchosen ones, summoned to this world to defeat the Demon King. Yet they had been humiliated, crushed, and forced to retreat. If they couldn''t even defeat a single enemy commander, what hope did they have against the real threat? He had expected more. More power. More dominance. More everything. "They aren''t weak. We are weak," Jason said flatly. Aidan''s head snapped toward him, his glare filled with disbelief and fury. "What did you just say?" "I said we''re weak. That''s all." Jason met his gaze without flinching. "But we can get stronger." Aidan scoffed. "How?" Jason''s smirk was slight, but it carried a dangerous edge. "Don''t you remember what Liphiel offered us?" Aidan stiffened. A pact. Back then, Liphiel had spoken to them about forming a pact with one of the Gods of Light¡ªa contract that would grant them immense power in exchange for their servitude. Both he and Jason had rejected the offer. Jason hadn''t trusted them. Aidan had been too arrogant to think he needed them. But now? Now, the memory sent a shiver down his spine. "That''s not all," Jason continued, watching him closely. "If we accept, we don''t just get stronger. We get new skills. More power. More control. She said so herself." Aidan looked away, his jaw tightening. He hated this. Hated that he was even considering it. Hated that he had been reduced to this¡ªstanding on a ship, licking his wounds, while Heiron and the others walked away unscathed. But he hated his own weakness even more. His decision was made. He was going to do whatever it took to gain strength. He would crush Heiron. He would tear down the Kingdom of Tenebria. He would overpower the other summoned Heroes, prove he was above them all. And if the gods stood in his way? He would crush them too. Chapter 326: The Wounded Heroes of the Light Empire (2) The gentle lapping of waves against the boat''s hull filled the air as it sailed through the vast, sunlit waters, carrying its passengers back toward the Empire of Light. The vessel, sturdy yet elegant, rocked slightly with each ripple of the sea, the rhythmic motion both soothing and monotonous. Above deck, Jason and Aidan were engaged in a tense conversation, the former having managed¡ªthrough sheer patience and diplomacy¡ªto ease some of Aidan''s simmering frustration. Their classmates, though relieved at the temporary reprieve from Aidan''s temper, had chosen to distance themselves, allowing the two to speak undisturbed. Meanwhile, below deck, in the quieter quarters of the ship, many of their companions were resting, oblivious to Aidan''s lingering resentment. In one of the private rooms, a young woman with cascading black locks sat gracefully on her bed, bathed in the soft golden glow of the afternoon sun filtering through a small, round window. Her beauty was undeniable¡ªdelicate yet striking, with an ethereal quality that made her seem almost otherworldly. But what stood out most was the serene expression she wore, her dark eyes brimming with warmth as she gazed down at her gently rounded belly. With each soft stroke of her hand across the fabric of her dress, she radiated quiet joy, an emotion so pure and deep it could be felt in the very air around her. She was pregnant. And the knowledge of that filled her with an indescribable happiness, one that she had never experienced in all her years on Earth. She had never imagined this moment would come, never thought she would carry a life within her, yet now she did, and the sensation was nothing short of miraculous. A sudden knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and another strikingly beautiful woman stepped inside. Sienna. Like the seated woman, her long black hair framed her delicate yet determined features, her posture poised with quiet strength. The remnants of a battle once lost still lingered in her sharp gaze, a reminder of the grave injury she had suffered at Agamemnon''s hands. She had come perilously close to death, saved only by Athena''s divine intervention. Though it had taken her two long months to fully recover, she had finally regained her strength. And now, she stood before her friend, her expression unreadable as she took in the sight before her. Sienna''s gaze immediately fell upon Aisha''s swollen belly. It was impossible to ignore. It had grown far too quickly¡ªunnaturally so. A pregnancy like this... it did not follow the normal course of human gestation. "It''s this big already..." Sienna murmured, her voice laced with astonishment as she approached. Aisha responded with a soft, knowing smile. "It is..." For a long moment, silence settled between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Sienna''s expression remained unreadable, but beneath her composed facade, a storm of emotions churned. Disbelief. Curiosity. Concern. Of all the revelations she had encountered, learning of Aisha''s pregnancy had been among the most shocking. Yet what unsettled her most wasn''t just the fact that Aisha was expecting¡ªit was the enigma surrounding it. How had this happened? Why was the pregnancy progressing at such an unnatural pace? And, most importantly¡ª "Are you going to tell me who the father is?" Sienna finally asked, her voice gentle yet firm as she stepped closer. Aisha hesitated, her fingers instinctively caressing her belly in a protective manner. A solemn promise hung over her like an unbreakable chain, binding her to silence. She had sworn to Nathan that she would tell no one¡ªnot yet. For their safety. For his safety. She knew Sienna too well. The moment she learned the truth, she would abandon everything, leave the Empire of Light, and head straight to Tenebria to find Nathan. That was how much she cared for her stepbrother. And that was something Aisha could not allow¡ªnot yet. So instead, she met Sienna''s gaze with quiet resolve and offered her only the truth she could afford to give. "I will tell you. One day," she said softly. "I promise." Sienna''s lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp eyes searching Aisha''s face for any sign of deception. But there was none. Only sincerity. Only an unspoken weight that Sienna could sense but not yet understand. And though frustration flickered in her eyes, she chose, for now, to let it rest. "Alright," Sienna said at last, crossing her arms. "I''ll hold you to that promise." Aisha merely smiled in response, knowing that when the time came, the truth would shake Sienna''s world in ways she could never imagine. Sienna didn''t seem upset, but a lingering concern flickered in her eyes. There was something she needed to confirm. "This baby... You wanted it, right? You weren''t forced?" Sienna asked seriously, her voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the question settled heavily between them. Sienna could still remember the horror of what Ajax had nearly done to Aisha. The memory of that moment still haunted her, and she feared¡ªdeeply feared¡ªthat this child might have come from another act of violence. Aisha''s eyes widened for a brief second before softening. "No, don''t worry. We were both consenting," she reassured quickly, her voice firm yet tender. Sienna let out a small breath, a subtle smile playing at her lips. "I see... I just didn''t think you would fall for another man besides my brother." Aisha remained silent at that comment, her expression unreadable. "But what surprises me most is your choice to keep the baby. I was already shocked when Professor Amelia decided to have a child, but you, Aisha? Would your parents even accept it?" she asked seriously. Aisha''s heart clenched slightly at the thought. She could already imagine their reaction, especially her father''s. Her family was strict¡ªunyielding in their expectations. If this had happened before, she might have been terrified just by the thought of it. But now... now, she had Nathan. She knew, no matter what happened, he would be there for her. And one day, she was certain they would find a way back to Earth. When that day came, she would be ready. "I''m an adult now. It''s my decision," Aisha said firmly. Sienna nodded before taking a seat beside Aisha. Her gaze once again drifted to Aisha''s belly, curiosity evident in her eyes. "Is this happening because of the blessing we received? Is that why the baby is growing so fast?" she wondered aloud. "It could be," Aisha admitted, though she wasn''t entirely sure. But deep down, she suspected Nathan had something to do with it as well. He had changed¡ªtransformed. The last time she saw him, he had been evolving, edging closer to becoming a demigod. If that was the case, then her child... her child might be part goddess as well. Perhaps that explained everything. A small smirk played at Aisha''s lips. "Maybe we''ll find out when you get pregnant too," she teased, watching Sienna''s reaction closely. Sienna shook her head instantly, her refusal unshaken. A long silence stretched between them before Sienna finally spoke again. "You see that man with the Trojans? Heiron," she said. Aisha''s heart skipped a beat at the name. She knew exactly who Sienna was referring to. "What about him?" Aisha asked carefully, her voice carrying a note of caution. Sienna hesitated, biting her lip as a whirlwind of conflicting emotions surged within her. "I... I don''t know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "He told me that Nathan was alive..." Aisha''s eyes widened. She hadn''t expected that. She was sure Nathan wouldn''t have told Sienna even in extreme circumstances the truth yet to Sienna otherwise he would have revealed himself entirely which meant he was forced to say it. Sienna exhaled a deep sigh, noticing Aisha''s stunned silence. "I know," she muttered, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I don''t remember much after I lost consciousness, but before everything went dark... I don''t know. It felt like..." Her mind reeled, trying to grasp at fleeting fragments of memory. Images flashed before her eyes¡ªthe stranger, Heiron, holding her as she drifted in and out of awareness. There had been something about the way he looked at her, the way he carried her... something painfully familiar. She squeezed her eyes shut. Nathan... The resemblance wasn''t in his face, nor his voice, nor even his mannerisms. But deep down, in the way he had held her¡ªthere had been something eerily reminiscent of her brother. A warmth she had long forgotten. A presence that made her feel, if only for a moment, safe. But it was impossible. Sienna shook her head firmly. It had to be a hallucination, the desperate wish of a grieving sister twisting her perception. Nothing more. And yet, there was one thing she couldn''t dismiss¡ª "How did he know about Nathan and me?" she asked, frowning. "Maybe he has a skill that lets him see it?" Aisha tried to find an excuse. "Yes... that''s what I think too," Sienna said bitterly, her voice laced with frustration. It was the only logical explanation. They lived in a world of magic, where people possessed skills that defied reason. A skill capable of unearthing old wounds, of exposing her past pain¡ªwasn''t such a thing well within the realm of possibility? And yet... a small, foolish part of her wished it wasn''t just that. That he hadn''t been toying with her suffering. That, somehow, someway, there had been truth in his words. But that was nothing more than a cruel dream she thought. Sienna clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The pain grounded her, forcing her to push away the aching hope that threatened to resurface. "What am I even thinking?" she muttered, shaking her head. "If he was alive, he would have already come back to me..." She rose from her seat, as if trying to physically shake off the lingering ghost of hope. Aisha remained silent, watching her with conflicted eyes. She wanted to tell her the truth¡ªto tell her why Nathan hadn''t come back, why he remained in the shadows. But she couldn''t. It was better this way. If Sienna knew¡ªif she ever learned that the very people she fought for were the ones responsible for Nathan''s ''death''¡ªthe consequences would be catastrophic. Not just for her, but for all of them, her classmates and the people both cared about. Siara, Courtney, Gwen, Amelia... even Aisha herself. Sienna would never forgive them. And once that truth unraveled, there would be no going back. Chapter 327 327: Siaras dream (1) Siara was dreaming. But this was no ordinary dream¡ªno fleeting, nonsensical vision conjured by a restless mind. It was a memory, vivid and sharp, as if she had been transported back in time. A little more than a year ago, a few months before they were transported to this world. A Saturday. The week had been exhausting. Long hours at her prestigious private school had drained her, leaving her desperate for an escape. Shopping with her friends seemed like the perfect way to unwind, a much-needed reprieve from the suffocating expectations placed upon her. Her mother, however, had other plans. "No," Sarina said firmly. The woman standing before Siara was none other than her mother, Sarina¡ªSienna''s and her own guiding force, for better or worse. Sarina had the same auburn hair as Siara, neatly tied into a bun, and striking blue eyes that shimmered with authority and concern. Despite being in her mid-thirties and the mother of two teenage girls, she carried herself with a grace that defied her age. Her figure was lean yet alluring, a combination of disciplined upkeep and natural beauty. Anyone who met her would have easily mistaken her for someone in her late twenties rather than a woman well into motherhood. Siara crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a pout. "Why?" she asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. Sarina let out a soft sigh, her expression unreadable. "I don''t trust anyone out there." Siara frowned. "But my friends are going with me. It''s not like I''m alone." "Yes, and they''re all girls," Sarina countered, her tone unwavering. "What happens if a group of men approaches you?" Siara rolled her eyes. "Mom, nothing is going to happen. You''re overreacting." But Sarina remained unmoved. She knew her daughter''s beauty was striking¡ªcaptivating, even. She wasn''t naive enough to believe that ill-intentioned men wouldn''t take notice. And knowing Siara''s stubborn personality, she feared things wouldn''t end well if she ever found herself in a dangerous situation. "In two hours, the sun will set," Sarina reasoned. "If you really want to go, you can wait until tomorrow morning." Siara groaned in exasperation. "Who goes shopping on a Sunday morning, Mom? That''s ridiculous! Please, just this once?" She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture, hoping her mother would relent. But Sarina''s expression remained firm. She had no intention of letting her daughter go out unaccompanied. Just then, the front door clicked open. Siara turned toward the entrance, already dreading what was about to happen. A young man stepped inside, carrying a bag of groceries in one hand. He was a few years older than Siara, his brown hair a striking contrast against his sharp yet indifferent features. Nathan. Sarina''s expression immediately brightened. "Oh, Nathan, you came at the perfect time!" Siara''s stomach sank. She could already see where this was going, and she didn''t like it one bit. "Mom!" she protested, but Sarina was already ignoring her. Turning to Nathan, Sarina flashed him a warm smile. "Thank you for running that errand for me, dear," she said sweetly. "But before you put those away... I have a favor to ask of you." Her voice was gentle, coaxing¡ªalmost too sweet. Siara groaned. She knew exactly what her mother was about to say. Nathan blinked in mild surprise at Sarina''s sudden request, but his lips soon curled into a small smile. As he stood there, his gaze wandered¡ªalmost unconsciously¡ªtoward Sarina''s ample chest. It was difficult not to notice. The curve of her bountiful breasts pressed subtly against the fabric of her blouse, and the faintest glimpse of lace from her bra peeked through the slightly loosened top button. Given the warm temperature, she had likely unbuttoned it for comfort, but to Nathan, it was an unintentional yet undeniably captivating sight. Siara noticed. Her sharp eyes flickered to where Nathan was looking, her stomach twisting in irritation. But what could she even say? He was a man, after all. And her mother¡ªwhether knowingly or unknowingly¡ªwas far too indulgent with Nathan. In fact, sometimes, it felt like Sarina spoiled him even more than she did her own daughters. Perhaps that was why Siara had never been on the best terms with Nathan. It wasn''t outright hatred, nor was she overtly hostile, but she had made sure there was a clear boundary between them. She didn''t treat him like family, nor did she give him the warmth that Sienna and her mother did. Because Siara knew. Nathan wasn''t looking at her like a newfound little sister. His gaze toward her held something else¡ªsomething less innocent. And it wasn''t just her. She had seen the same look directed at Sienna and even their mother. Unlike her sister and mother, who seemed completely oblivious, Siara was not so naive. The mere thought of Nathan eyeing all three of them like that made her stomach churn with unease. It was almost disgusting¡ªalmost. And yet, she couldn''t fully bring herself to despise him. Because despite whatever thoughts he harbored, Nathan had never crossed a line. He had never acted on it. Still, it didn''t change the fact that she wanted to keep her distance from him as much as possible. Unfortunately, today, she wouldn''t have a choice. "Can you accompany Siara outside?" Sarina asked, her tone gentle but firm. "She''s going shopping with her friends, but I don''t want her going alone this late." Siara groaned. "I won''t be alone," she repeated, exasperation creeping into her voice. Sarina ignored her. Nathan''s gaze flickered toward Siara, as if sizing up the situation. Then, with a small shrug, he nodded. "Gladly." A bright smile spread across Sarina''s face. "Thank you!" she said cheerfully, stepping closer and pressing a quick kiss to Nathan''s forehead. "I''ll have dinner ready when you get back. Don''t stay out too late." Siara grumbled under her breath, barely concealing her irritation. But without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and headed toward the door. She was already dressed and ready to leave¡ªno point in wasting any more time. Nathan handed the grocery bag to Sarina before casually following after her, his footsteps light and unhurried. Siara didn''t bother waiting for Nathan as she stepped outside. She moved with purpose, her pace brisk as if putting more distance between them would somehow make his presence less annoying. Behind her, Nathan closed the door with a quiet click, taking a moment to pocket the keys before following after her. "Do you want to rent a car?" he asked casually, easily matching her stride despite her clear attempt to walk ahead of him. "A car? For what?" Siara scoffed, barely sparing him a glance. "It''s just one stop away by bus." Nathan chuckled softly, as if amused by her sharp tone. "Right." Siara sighed. She hated how unbothered he always seemed. She had expected some kind of argument, or at the very least, a comment about her attitude¡ªbut he just accepted it with that same infuriating smile. "I''ll be with my friends, and I don''t want them knowing about you," she stated bluntly, stopping in her tracks to turn toward him. "So stay behind me. Keep your distance. Can you do that?" To her surprise, Nathan merely nodded, his expression calm and unreadable. "Okay." No protest. No sarcasm. Just simple agreement. For some reason, that unsettled her more than if he had argued. They soon arrived at the bus stop, where a small crowd had already gathered. As expected, the Saturday evening rush had begun¡ªgroups of friends, couples, and workers filled the area, all waiting for their ride. When the bus finally pulled up, it was nearly full, and the moment the doors swung open, a flood of people surged forward. Siara wasted no time slipping inside, skillfully weaving through the bodies to secure a spot near the back. She leaned against the window, gripping the metal bar beside her for support. Nathan, however, wasn''t as quick. He was cut off by a wave of passengers pushing their way in, and Siara couldn''t help but smirk at the sight. At least now he wouldn''t be standing anywhere near her. By the time the bus doors closed and the vehicle jerked forward, Nathan was positioned several feet away, lost in the sea of bodies. Good. But as the bus rumbled down the uneven road, Siara started to feel uneasy. It was crowded¡ªuncomfortably so. She hugged her bag tightly against her chest, her fingers gripping the straps like a lifeline. She was surrounded. Tall, middle-aged men occupied the space around her, their broad shoulders pressing in from all sides. The bus''s constant movement made them sway, their bodies bumping against hers again and again. At first, she dismissed it as accidental¡ªjust the unavoidable consequence of being packed into such a tight space. But then it started happening too often. Too deliberately. Hands brushed against her in ways that didn''t feel incidental. A nudge against her hip. A lingering touch against her arm. And then¡ª Siara froze. A hand. On her thigh. Her breath hitched as icy dread clawed up her spine. She was wearing a high skirt. There was nothing shielding her bare skin from the intrusive touch. And worse¡ª The hand didn''t move away. It stayed. Pressing. Gripping ever so slightly. Siara''s mind blanked. Is this really happening? Panic paralyzed her tongue. She wanted to yell, to push him away, to do something¡ªbut she felt trapped, suffocated by the overwhelming weight of fear pressing against her chest. Her fingers trembled around the strap of her bag. She squeezed her eyes shut. Please let this stop. Please¡ª "GRAHH!!" A sudden groan shattered the tense atmosphere. Siara''s eyes snapped open just in time to see the man who had touched her jerk forward¡ªhis body slamming against the metal bar in front of him. His head collided with a dull thunk, a pained grimace twisting his features as he staggered backward. The bus jolted again, but this time, it wasn''t the road''s doing. Someone had shoved him. The man whipped around, his face contorted in fury. "Y...;You!!" "Sorry," a familiar voice drawled smoothly. "I tripped." Siara''s breath caught in her throat. Nathan. He was standing there now, positioned directly in front of her, his posture relaxed yet firm. His lips curled into a smile¡ªa deceptively light expression that masked something deeper, something unreadable. There was no anger in his face. No open hostility. And yet, his presence alone sent a chill through the air. Siara had never seen that kind of smile before. Or rather¡ªshe had. And she hated it. It was the same smile he wore when he looked at them¡ªnot as family, not as siblings, but as women. That slow, knowing curve of his lips, the glint in his eyes that always unsettled her. It disgusted her. Yet, as much as she wanted to ignore it, there was something different this time. Something darker. Chapter 328 328: Siaras dream (2) Yet, as much as she wanted to ignore it, there was something different this time. Something darker. Nathan hadn''t just tripped¡ªthat much was obvious. The man who had touched her was still glaring, rubbing his head in frustration, but he didn''t lash out. Maybe it was the way Nathan stood¡ªcalm, unbothered, yet strangely imposing. Maybe it was the way he smiled¡ªlike someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Or maybe it was the cold amusement in his eyes, as if he found the entire situation mildly entertaining. Siara hated that too. She gritted her teeth and looked away. I don''t need his help. The rest of the bus ride was suffocating. Siara kept her gaze fixed on the window, her grip on her bag tightening. The unwanted touches had stopped, but the discomfort in her chest only grew. She felt... tainted. Siara''s heart slowly settled, and with it, a shocking realization washed over her¡ªshe was, at least for the moment, safe. The words almost felt foreign as they danced through her mind, but they were undeniably true. She wasn''t entirely certain why she had this feeling, but there it was, like a protective shield wrapping around her, faint yet reassuring. She glanced up, her gaze naturally landing on Nathan, who stood before her. He wasn''t particularly imposing in stature¡ªjust a little taller than her, but that was all. Yet, for the first time, she felt an unmistakable force radiating from him, an aura so powerful and undeniable it seemed to fill the space around them. His presence was like an invisible storm, and it both comforted and unsettled her in a way she couldn''t quite explain. The air around him felt charged, as if something untold was simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. What unsettled her more, however, was the fact that Nathan wasn''t even looking at her. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the man who had dared to touch her¡ªhis smile stretched across his lips, but it was a hollow, empty thing. His eyes, cold and distant, gave no hint of the expression his mouth wore, creating a sharp contrast. The man who had once glared at her with such malice was now the one avoiding Nathan''s gaze, his body stiffening as if he''d been struck by a cold wave. His breath hitched, and his hands trembled slightly, a sheen of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead as if he were suddenly caught in a freezing wind. The intensity of Nathan''s unspoken menace was palpable, and for reasons he couldn''t comprehend, the man felt an overwhelming sense of fear just by witnessing that smile. As the bus lurched to a stop at the bustling shopping street, the crowd began to shuffle off, eager to begin their day. Siara, though, remained close behind Nathan, not wanting to be far from the one who had made her feel safe again¡ªalmost protective, as though the world outside no longer mattered while he was near. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice small but genuine. She couldn''t quite find the right words to express the gratitude she felt. Words felt inadequate in comparison to what Nathan had done for her, yet they were all she had. Nathan, without turning back to face her, simply nodded. "You should hurry up and call them. I''ll stay over here." He took a few deliberate steps away, moving toward a nearby bench and sitting down, as though his presence there was nothing more than an afterthought, as if he were merely an observer of the world around him rather than a participant. Siara stood still for a moment, her eyes lingering on him, trying to make sense of the situation, of everything that had happened. After a beat, she pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the number of her old friends. They weren''t the classmates she had now, the ones at her private school; these friends were from her past, from a time before everything had changed. It had been ages since they''d last been together, and it was rare that they could see each other anymore. But today, it seemed, was one of those rare occasions. "Siara!" A lively voice called out, drawing the attention of a girl with striking hazel eyes and long, wavy brown hair. Siara turned just in time to see two familiar figures approaching. The first was a girl with bouncy, chestnut-colored curls that framed her heart-shaped face, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement. Skyler. Right beside her, another girl walked with effortless grace¡ªPage, her sleek, shoulder-length black hair shifting slightly with each step. "It''s been too long!" Skyler added, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Siara felt warmth spread through her chest. The sight of them filled her with a sense of familiarity and belonging she hadn''t felt in months. The three of them, all sixteen, had always been an inseparable trio¡ªknown for their charm and beauty, drawing attention even when they didn''t seek it. "Skyler, Page," Siara greeted them with a wide, genuine smile, quickly closing the distance between them. It had been two long months since she had last seen them¡ªtwo months since she had moved away after her mother remarried Nathan''s father. Adjusting to a new school had been anything but easy. Sure, she had met people, but none she could call real friends. No one could replace these two. "Oh god, you are just too blessed with beauty, Siara!" Page teased, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief. Siara rolled her eyes but couldn''t suppress a small laugh. "Stop it already. We don''t have much time¡ªmy mom doesn''t want me out too late." She ushered them forward, eager to make the most of their reunion. Unbeknownst to her friends, Nathan had silently risen from his seat the moment they started walking. Though he maintained a respectable distance as she had insisted, Siara still felt his presence lurking nearby. But for now, she shoved the thought aside. With her best friends by her side, she could finally let loose, finally be herself. They wandered through the shopping district, admiring storefront displays and stepping into boutiques filled with stylish outfits. Siara was in her element¡ªflipping through racks of clothing, holding up dresses against herself, and laughing as Skyler and Page debated what suited her best. She even made a point of trying on more outfits than necessary, spinning in front of the mirror with exaggerated poses. Anything to draw out time. Anything to make Nathan give up and leave. But he didn''t. Instead, he followed them. Into every store. Siara caught glimpses of him lingering near the entrance or leaning against the walls. He was the only guy in a sea of girls rummaging through outfits, and it was impossible for Skyler and Page not to notice. By the time Siara was trying on clothes in the fifth store, her patience was wearing dangerously thin. Embarrassment prickled at the back of her neck, mixing with growing frustration. She had been ignoring it as best as she could, but the sheer absurdity of the situation was getting to her. Nathan was still there. She knew he wasn''t doing this out of his own volition¡ªhe was simply carrying out the job his mother had entrusted to him with unwavering diligence. But this? This was ridiculous. Even for him. Every time she moved, she found herself unconsciously glancing around, checking the mirrors, ensuring he wasn''t too close. Even when she was just sifting through racks of clothes, her gaze would flicker toward the reflections surrounding her, catching glimpses of his unmistakable figure lingering at a distance. It was suffocating. With arms now burdened by shopping bags, she and her friends finally exited the store, the cool evening air greeting them. Siara was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Page suddenly spoke up. "Girls... I think there''s a guy following us." Siara''s breath caught in her throat. "Yeah, I wasn''t sure at first, but now I''m certain," Skyler added, though her tone carried more amusement than concern. Siara froze mid-step. They noticed him. She swallowed, forcing herself to turn slightly, pretending to glance over her shoulder nonchalantly. And there he was¡ªNathan, still trailing them. Except now, he was even closer than before, only about two meters away. Her frustration surged. He was supposed to keep his distance! What she failed to notice, however, was the direction of Nathan''s gaze. His eyes weren''t on them at all. Instead, his attention was locked on a group of four men walking a short distance away¡ªmen who were openly ogling the three of them, their stares dripping with crude intent. Had Siara realized that Nathan''s presence was not to annoy her but to keep a watchful eye on those men, she might have calmed down. But she didn''t. All she saw was her overbearing stepbrother ignoring boundaries and making her feel suffocated. "Let''s rush," she muttered, picking up her pace. "You sure?" Page asked, glancing back at Nathan. "He''s kinda hot." Siara nearly tripped. "Him? Hot?" she repeated, incredulous. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. Sure, she could admit Nathan was above average in looks, but calling him hot was pushing it. "I agree with Page on this one," Skyler giggled, also sneaking a glance in his direction. Fortunately, Nathan''s attention remained elsewhere, allowing them to stare without being caught. Siara rolled her eyes, but Page and Skyler were evaluating him from a neutral standpoint. He didn''t have the kind of flashy, movie-star good looks that turned heads instantly. However, there was something else¡ªan aura of quiet confidence, a presence that made it seem like nothing could shake him. And at that moment, with his sharp gaze fixed on the group of men, his usual indifference was replaced by something colder. Nathan wasn''t smiling anymore. His expression had hardened into something unreadable¡ªhis jaw tense, his dark brown eyes gleaming with quiet intensity. It was an expression he only ever wore in front of his father. Chapter 329: Siara鈥檚 dream (3) And at that moment, with his sharp gaze fixed on the group of men, his usual indifference was replaced by something colder. Nathan wasn¡¯t smiling anymore. His expression had hardened into something unreadable¡ªhis jaw tense, his dark brown eyes gleaming with quiet intensity. It was an expression he only ever wore in front of his father. From an outsider¡¯s perspective, Nathan¡¯s appearance at that moment carried an undeniable charm. If one truly took the time to observe him properly, they would notice the faint traces of something more¡ªsomething hidden beneath his usual demeanor. It was a fleeting glimpse of his true self, a version of him that had long been buried under layers of resentment and pain. He had learned to hide it well after being called a monster by his half-Japanese stepsisters, and even more so after the unsettling incident with the twin step-siblings who had come after them. Those experiences had shaped him, forced him to suppress parts of himself, leaving behind only fragments of the boy he once was. Siara, however, had already formed a negative opinion of him. She was incapable of seeing him objectively, blind to the nuances her friends seemed to pick up on. Their words suggested they saw something different in Nathan¡ªsomething she couldn¡¯t, or perhaps refused to, acknowledge. Feeling an uncomfortable tension creeping up her spine, Siara quickened her pace, putting more distance between herself and him. She was afraid¡ªafraid her friends would call out to him, afraid they might actually mean what they were saying. She didn¡¯t want to hear it. Skyler and Page exchanged glances, puzzled by Siara¡¯s odd behavior. They couldn¡¯t recall a time when she had reacted like this simply because someone happened to be walking near them. Normally, she would have ignored it, brushed it off without a second thought. But now, it was as if she were actively trying to escape. Despite their curiosity, they followed her lead, keeping pace with her hurried steps. Unfortunately for Siara, Nathan had no intention of backing down. He easily matched their stride, steadily closing the gap between them. Noticing this, frustration surged through Siara. Enough was enough. Abruptly, she stopped in her tracks, whirled around, and stormed straight toward Nathan, her expression sharp with irritation. "Siara?" Skyler called, confused. "You two, stay here," she ordered, her tone so firm that neither of them dared to argue. Nathan, who had also halted, watched as Siara approached, her gaze burning with barely contained anger. Her piercing glare locked onto him as she spoke. "What did I ask you before? What the hell are you doing getting so close to me and my friends? They¡¯ve noticed you!" Her voice was sharp, demanding an answer. Nathan met her glare with a calm expression. "Your mother asked me to watch over you." Siara scoffed, her frustration only growing. "I don¡¯t care! I told you to keep your distance and stay discreet! Stop following me around like some kind of creep!" Her voice rose slightly, her irritation spilling over. Her fists clenched at her sides as she continued, her words laced with venom. "We aren¡¯t siblings. We aren¡¯t family. We¡¯re not even acquaintances worth mentioning. Just because our parents got married doesn¡¯t mean you have any obligation toward me! So stop acting like you do!" She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Or... do you have some other reason?" Her voice dropped slightly, and for the first time, there was something else in her gaze¡ªsomething cautious, almost wary. Was he trying something? Was he using her as an excuse to get closer to her friends instead? Was she just an obstacle in the way of whatever it was he actually wanted? That thought made her stomach churn. Nathan¡¯s voice remained calm, steady, and unwavering despite Siara¡¯s hostility. "I just want to make sure you get home safely, as your mother asked. There are dangerous people around. I should stay close," he insisted, his gaze flickering away as if scanning their surroundings for unseen threats. Unfortunately for him, that simple gesture only fueled Siara¡¯s irritation. It was as if he didn¡¯t even care about her opinion. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Don¡¯t make me repeat myself," she snapped, her voice dropping into a sharp, warning tone. "If you keep acting like this, I¡¯ll tell your father that you¡¯ve been behaving strangely around me and my friends." She hadn¡¯t originally planned to go that far, but once the words left her mouth, she didn¡¯t take them back. A flicker of guilt stirred in her chest, but she swallowed it down, keeping her expression firm. For a moment, Nathan simply looked at her. His brown hair caught the dim evening light, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Then, slowly, he smiled¡ªa small, almost knowing smile. Without another word, he took a step back, then turned and walked away. The silence in which he left did nothing to ease Siara¡¯s lingering guilt. Something about the way he had simply accepted her words, without argument, left a strange feeling in her chest. But she shook it off and turned back to her friends. "I think you were a little harsh, Siara," Page said with a sigh. "Yeah," Skyler agreed, resting a hand on her hip. "And, honestly? He looked kinda cute when he smiled like that." They hadn¡¯t heard the exact conversation, but it wasn¡¯t hard to guess that Siara had spoken to Nathan harshly. "Ignore him. Let¡¯s just go," Siara muttered, brushing past them. But then. "Anyway, he¡¯s nowhere near Jason¡¯s level," she added under her breath, almost defensively. Page¡¯s lips curled into a sly grin. "Jason?" she repeated, her tone laced with amusement. Siara stiffened. Heat crept up her neck as the mere mention of her handsome classmate filled her mind with uninvited thoughts. "I...I didn¡¯t mean it like that!" she protested, but it was too late. Skyler and Page exchanged a knowing glance before they both broke into teasing laughter. And just like that, the rest of their shopping trip turned into a relentless session of Siara being teased about her obvious crush. She grumbled and rolled her eyes, but even as she glanced around casually, Nathan was nowhere to be seen. He had truly left. Eventually, after another half-hour of walking around, the three of them decided to part ways. By then, the sky had darkened, and the bustling energy of the day had faded into the quiet hum of evening. The streets weren¡¯t completely empty, but the crowds had thinned significantly. "Let¡¯s walk with you to your bus stop," Skyler offered. "Yeah, just in case," Page agreed. Siara didn¡¯t argue. The bus stop was fairly isolated, tucked along the edge of a dimly lit street. To their relief, it wasn¡¯t crowded¡ª In fact, it seemed deserted. Almost too deserted. A faint unease settled in the air as the three girls sat on the bench, waiting. The distant sound of cars and city life buzzed in the background, but the area around them felt strangely still. Siara glanced around idly. There was no one. Or at least... it seemed that way. Then, the sound of footsteps. A group of four men approached, their voices loud, their laughter sharp and cutting through the quiet night. Siara stiffened. Something about them set off warning bells in her head. The way their gazes flickered toward them¡ªassessing, predatory. "Girls..." Skyler¡¯s voice was quiet, urgent. Siara and Page didn¡¯t need to be told twice. Without hesitation, they stood up from the bench and started walking away, their pace brisk but controlled. "Hey, girls!" The voice rang out behind them. Siara¡¯s heart jumped. They quickened their pace, but before they could get far, two of the men suddenly moved ahead of them, blocking their path. Their grins were wide. Too wide. And their eyes? Dark with something far more dangerous than amusement. "What do you want?" Siara asked, her voice sharp, eyes narrowed in suspicion. The man in front of them grinned, an unpleasant smirk stretching across his face as he casually shoved his hands into his pockets. His stance was relaxed, but there was an undeniable arrogance in the way he carried himself. "Come with us," he said smoothly, his tone laced with confidence. "Let¡¯s hang out together, girls. You¡¯ll have a great time, I promise." A low chuckle followed, the kind that sent an uneasy chill creeping up Siara¡¯s spine. Page, standing beside her, forced a smile, her lips twitching slightly as she took a small step backward. "We¡¯re not interested," she said politely but firmly, turning to leave. She had barely taken two steps when she felt a rough grip on her wrist. Her breath hitched. "Hey! Let her go!" Siara shouted, her voice rising with anger. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped the man across the face. The sound cracked through the air like a whip. For a moment, silence reigned. The man who had grabbed Page didn¡¯t react right away. Instead, his expression darkened, his jaw tightening. Slowly, he turned his head back toward Siara, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. His hand shot forward, reaching for her. But before he could make contact¡ª DUH! Something whizzed through the air at incredible speed. A sickening, wet impact followed. "GAAH!" The man let out a strangled cry, staggering back as blood spurted from his right eye. He clutched his face, his fingers smeared red as he stumbled, collapsing onto the pavement in agony. "Who¡ª?!" one of his companions exclaimed, eyes darting frantically around. "What the hell just happened?!" another demanded. "Look around! Find whoever did that!" Their frantic search lasted only a few seconds before one of them pointed ahead. "There! Over there!" Siara¡¯s breath caught in her throat. Standing a short distance away, beneath the dim glow of a streetlamp, was a familiar figure. Nathan. He smirked, his expression almost lazy¡ªprovocative even. His posture was relaxed, hands stuffed into his pockets, but his eyes gleamed with amusement as he met their gazes. Then, without another word, he turned and bolted. "Catch that bastard!" The injured man, still clutching his bleeding eye, forced himself to his feet with a furious roar. The remaining three, without hesitation, took off after Nathan, their footsteps pounding against the pavement. Siara stood frozen for half a second before Page grabbed her wrist, snapping her out of it. "Siara! The bus is here! We need to go!" Skyler was already running toward the waiting vehicle, and without further thought, Siara allowed Page to drag her along. The doors hissed open, and they scrambled inside just before the bus lurched forward. The entire ride home passed in a blur. Siara stared blankly out of the window, her mind miles away. She barely registered the chatter of the other passengers, the occasional bumps in the road, or even the worried glances Page and Skyler occasionally threw her way. When the bus finally pulled to a stop near her home, she stepped off without a word. "Siara, are you okay?" Page asked hesitantly. Siara gave a stiff nod. Page and Skyler exchanged glances but didn¡¯t press further. They assumed she was simply shaken by what had happened¡ªafter all, they were too. With a small wave, they left her standing at the bus stop. But Siara¡¯s thoughts weren¡¯t on the incident itself. They were on Nathan. The moment she reached her house, she stopped in front of the door, staring at it without moving. What was she supposed to say if her mother asked about Nathan? How could she explain that he had put himself in danger¡ªfor her? Four men had chased after him, and they weren¡¯t the type to let an insult go unpunished. She knew that much just from the look in their eyes. Nathan had risked himself because of her reckless actions. And now, she had no idea if he was safe. Or if he was even still alive. Siara¡¯s heart pounded so violently that she could hear it echoing in her ears. A cold sweat clung to her skin, and an uncomfortable lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She couldn¡¯t shake the anxiety gripping her chest. Nathan... what had happened to him? Had he escaped? Was he hurt? She clenched her fists, trying to calm herself, but the unease only grew stronger. "Siara? What are you doing just standing there?" Her mother¡¯s voice suddenly broke through her turmoil, making her flinch. Siara snapped her head up, realizing that her mother was watching her from inside the house, peering through the window with mild curiosity. She stiffened. Before she could gather herself, her mother disappeared from view, and moments later, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the quiet night. Siara¡¯s breath caught. Her mother stepped out, smiling warmly. "You¡¯re a little late today, but I¡¯m glad Nathan brought you home safely. Thank you, Nate." Siara¡¯s body went rigid. Nathan? Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she spun around so quickly she nearly lost her balance. And there he was. Nathan stood behind her, calm and composed as ever, his usual smirk absent. He looked completely unbothered, as though nothing had happened at all. "It was nothing, really," he said casually, his voice even. Siara just stared at him, unable to form words. He made it back? But how? What happened to the men who had chased him down? Her mother, oblivious to her inner turmoil, simply nodded. "You both must be tired. Come in, wash your hands, and get ready for dinner." Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed inside. Nathan followed without hesitation, walking past Siara without so much as a glance in her direction. Siara opened her mouth¡ªshe wanted to say something, anything. Apologies. Questions. She wanted to ask if he was okay, if he was hurt, if he needed anything. But the words lodged in her throat, suffocating her. And then, just as he stepped inside, her gaze fell to his hands. Her breath hitched. Nathan¡¯s fists were bruised, knuckles split open, faint traces of blood smeared awkwardly across his skin, as if he had tried to wipe it away but hadn¡¯t bothered to do it properly. Chapter 330: The Heroes back to the Empire of Light Siara''s eyes snapped open, her breath shallow as she stared at the ceiling above her. A dull, persistent ache throbbed in her temples, and she instinctively raised a hand to her forehead, massaging it in an attempt to soothe the pain. For a moment, she lay still, silent, allowing the remnants of her dream to settle in her mind like the ripples of a disturbed pond. She had dreamed of him again. Nathan. Her stepbrother''s face had appeared so vividly in her dreams that it was as if he had been standing right before her, alive, real¡ªalmost within reach. Ever since his death, these dreams had plagued her, creeping into her sleep like ghosts of memories she could never escape. Sometimes, they were fragments of ordinary days, mundane moments from their shared past. But tonight had been different. Tonight, she had relived a day she could never forget. A day that had changed everything. She let out a small, bitter chuckle, a breathless whisper of nostalgia laced with regret. That had been the day her perception of Nathan had shifted entirely. From that moment onward, she had made an effort to be kinder to him, to talk to him, to bridge the silent gap that had always existed between them. It had been awkward at first, her attempts clumsy and uncertain, but she had truly wanted to improve their relationship. Yet, before she could make any real progress, fate had intervened. They had been taken¡ªripped from their world and thrown into another. A world filled with dangers, monsters, and an uncertain future. And there, in the face of looming peril, she had been afraid. She had clung to the one person she trusted most, the one who exuded confidence and strength¡ªJason, her long-time crush. It had seemed natural, inevitable even, to gravitate toward him. He had been decisive, fearless, always at the front lines, while Nathan... Nathan had been quieter, more reserved. He hadn''t openly shown concern, nor had he displayed any exceptional strength that would have made her feel safe beside him. And so, without even realizing it, the distance between them had grown once more. Perhaps it was unavoidable. In a world where survival was paramount, there had been no room for uncertainties. The faster they defeated the Demon King, the sooner they could return home, and so she had chosen the path that seemed the most secure¡ªfollowing Jason and his party. And now Nathan was gone. Dead. His absence had left behind a gaping void, one filled with regrets that gnawed at her, consuming her from within. Her mother''s words echoed in her mind, a painful reminder of the past. "Be kind to Nathan, Siara. He''s been through more than you can imagine. He always finds trouble, but he''s a good boy." She had never truly listened. Never until it was too late. Now, all she had left were these dreams¡ªcruel, unrelenting visions that forced her to relive what she had lost. They carried her guilt like an anchor, weighing down her heart with what-ifs and unspoken apologies. Taking a deep breath, she pushed off her blanket and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet, but she barely noticed. Moving toward the window, she rested her hands on the wooden frame, gazing out at the world beyond. Her breath hitched. A familiar sight greeted her¡ªa bustling harbor, the distant silhouette of towering spires against the golden horizon. The crisp scent of saltwater mixed with the faint aroma of the morning breeze. Her lips parted in disbelief. "We''re... back?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. The ship had reached the port. And that port... she recognized it instantly. They had finally returned. To the Empire of Light. The journey back to the Empire of Light had stretched across several months¡ªnot because the voyage itself was particularly long, but because the group had chosen to make frequent stops at nearby islands. Each pause provided them with a much-needed reprieve, a chance to rest, hunt for food, and momentarily forget the weight of their burdens. It had not been a decision made lightly; it was a unanimous choice. They had endured too much. And they all knew what awaited them upon their return to the Empire of Light. More training. More expectations. More scrutinizing gazes from nobles and Divine Knights who viewed them as symbols of hope, as warriors destined to bring salvation. At first, such admiration had felt exhilarating. The respect, the privileges¡ªthey had basked in them, feeling almost untouchable. But as time passed, the glow of reverence had become suffocating. The way the nobles and knights looked at them, as if they could do no wrong, as if they were gods among men¡ªit was stifling. They were just students. Children who had been thrown into a war beyond their control. And so, for the sake of their sanity, they had prolonged their journey, savoring the brief taste of freedom before duty chained them once more. But now, after what felt like an eternity¡ªeight long months of self-imposed exile¡ªthey were finally back. The ship glided smoothly into the harbor, the sound of waves lapping against the wooden hull filling the air. The salty scent of the sea was sharper here, blending with the crisp morning breeze. Ropes were cast, anchors dropped, and the massive sails slowly folded in as the vessel came to a steady halt. Waiting for them on the dock below was a full escort of Light Empire Knights, standing in rigid formation. Their silver armor gleamed under the sunlight, their capes billowing slightly in the wind. At least a dozen carriages had been prepared, lined up in pristine rows, and behind them stood what could only be described as a small army. The Empire had not taken any chances with their return¡ªthese so-called "Heroes" were far too valuable to be left unprotected. As the first of them disembarked, a firm voice rang out to greet them. "Welcome back, Heroes." A single figure stepped forward from the ranks. Unlike the other knights, who carried an air of disciplined rigidity, this man exuded something entirely different¡ªself-assured confidence, a quiet yet undeniable authority. He was tall, with sharp, chiseled features that gave him an almost regal presence. His pristine white hair, unblemished by time or war, cascaded elegantly down to his shoulders, and his piercing eyes held a depth that sent an uneasy shiver down Jason''s spine. Jason narrowed his eyes as he took a step forward, instinctively positioning himself as the leader of their group. "And you are?" he asked, his tone neutral but cautious. The man''s lips curved into a polite smile, though there was something unreadable in his gaze. "I am Clahvel, a Divine Knight of the Light Empire," he introduced himself smoothly. "By the order of His Majesty, I have been assigned to oversee your protection and to assume Liphiel''s former role in guiding the Heroes." At the mention of Liphiel, a scoff cut through the air. "Tch. I don''t need some weakling to babysit me." Aidan descended from the ship with an air of barely concealed disdain, his sharp blue eyes flashing with contempt. "Liphiel died pathetically. She was useless in that war. Just another fool who couldn''t handle the battlefield." Clahvel chuckled softly. There was no anger in his expression, no outrage at Aidan''s blatant disrespect. Only amusement. "Liphiel was never a warrior," he admitted without hesitation. "Her strengths lay elsewhere. But rest assured, any mistakes she made¡ªI have every intention of correcting them." For a fleeting moment, his calm demeanor faltered, and something cold flashed in his gaze. A quiet, unspoken warning. Jason felt it immediately. Aidan, despite his bravado, instinctively stiffened. His hand twitched, his body reacting before his mind could process why. A strange sensation crawled up his spine, setting every nerve on edge. That man... There was something dangerous about him. Jason felt it too. A tense, wary silence hung over the group. The so-called "Heroes" remained on edge, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar face before them. The presence of a new Divine Knight was unsettling. Trust was a fragile thing, and after all they had been through, they weren''t eager to place their faith in a stranger. Then, the tension broke. A familiar figure stepped forward¡ªa woman of striking beauty, her red hair catching the sunlight, her gentle presence radiating warmth. "It''s been a while, everyone." The moment Cecilia spoke, her voice calm and soothing, the atmosphere shifted. "Cecilia!" Relief flooded their expressions. The boys and girls alike rushed to greet her, their previous caution melting away as they surrounded her with genuine smiles. Unlike the nobles and knights of the Empire, Cecilia had never treated them as mere tools of war. She had been one of the few they could trust¡ªkind, selfless, and unwavering in her sincerity. "Welcome back, everyone." Cecilia''s smile remained soft, though there was a flicker of something in her gaze¡ªsomething unreadable. "Come, let''s get moving. The carriages are ready for you." A dozen elegant carriages awaited them, their polished surfaces gleaming under the sun. Their return to the capital would take only a few hours. As they settled into the cushioned seats, the rhythmic clatter of hooves and the gentle rocking of the carriage provided an odd sense of normalcy. Yet, despite the comfortable ride, a strange atmosphere lingered. Seated together, Siara and Sienna exchanged glances before Siara finally spoke up, leaning slightly out of the carriage window. "Cecilia," she called out. "How is Teacher Amelia? And her child?" Riding beside them on horseback, Cecilia turned, her expression softening. "Very well," she assured with a warm smile. "Her daughter is growing beautifully." Siara let out a small sigh of relief, but before she could respond, Sienna¡ªwho had remained silent for most of the trip¡ªsuddenly spoke up. "Is everything... alright?" Cecilia didn''t respond immediately. Something about the way the knights moved, the way the escort felt more like a procession than a simple welcome party¡ªsomething was off. Sienna''s instincts screamed at her, though she couldn''t quite put her finger on why. Unfortunately, she wasn''t just overthinking it. Cecilia''s smile faltered. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face before she finally exhaled, her tone turning grave. "Actually... the Emperor passed away four months ago." "Eh?!" Siara''s eyes widened in shock, her voice rising in disbelief. Even Sienna, who rarely showed much emotion, stiffened. "A sudden illness struck him," Cecilia continued, her voice quieter now. "Despite the best efforts of the healers, he didn''t survive." Siara let out a groan, rubbing her temples. "I suppose that means the Prince took the throne?" "Yes," Cecilia confirmed, but her hesitation didn''t go unnoticed. "But... it''s complicated." Siara frowned. "Complicated how?" Cecilia''s gaze darkened slightly as she delivered the news. "He''s not ruling alone." A cold feeling crept into Sienna''s chest. "What do you mean?" Siara asked, wary now. "Did he already find a wife?" Cecilia shook her head. "No." Then, after a pause, she added with an unmistakable weight to her words: "The new Empress of the Light Empire... is Hero Nancy." Chapter 331: Sara Carter "The new Empress of the Light Empire... is Hero Nancy." At Cecilia''s revelation, both Siara and Sienna froze in place, their eyes widening in sheer disbelief. "W-What?!" Siara gasped, her voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with unfiltered shock. She couldn''t believe what she had just heard. It had to be some kind of mistake. Maybe she had misheard Cecilia, or perhaps this was all some elaborate misunderstanding. Nancy¡ªthat Nancy¡ªwas the Empress of the Light Empire? Her mind reeled, trying to piece together how events could have spiraled into such an absurd reality. How had things reached this point? Yet, despite Siara''s bewilderment, Cecilia remained solemn as she gave a slow, deliberate nod. "It''s true. She was chosen by the Divine Knights to ascend as the new Empress, alongside the rightful heir to the throne, Prince Geoffrey." The weight of Cecilia''s words pressed down on Siara, but instead of providing clarity, they only intensified her confusion. "How... how did this even happen?! Why would they choose her?!" she demanded, her brows knitting together in frustration. Cecilia let out a quiet sigh before answering, her tone calm but tinged with the same unease that Siara felt. "Hero Nancy gave birth shortly after you left for the war. It turns out she was carrying the Emperor''s child. The Divine Knights later confirmed the legitimacy of her lineage and organized the coronation ceremony." Siara''s breath hitched. "Nancy... had a child?" she repeated, stunned. The revelation left her momentarily speechless. It wasn''t just shock¡ªit was disbelief, mingled with something close to exasperation. Why did it seem like so many people around her were suddenly having children? First, it had been her teacher. Then Aisha. And now Nancy as well? But even beyond the unexpected pregnancy, the far more pressing issue was who had been made Empress. Nancy¡ªthe same Nancy who had once tormented her classmates for fun. The same Nancy who had bullied even her own stepbrother. Nathan had never truly entertained her cruelty, but that didn''t change the fact that Nancy had been awful. She had been arrogant, self-centered, and utterly unfit to rule over an empire. And now she sat on the throne of the Light Empire? Siara clenched her fists at her sides. "What were they thinking?" she muttered, her voice laced with growing anger. The Divine Knights were supposed to be the highest governing authority. The most powerful and revered figures of the empire. Had they truly thought this decision through? Did they genuinely believe that Nancy was the ideal choice for Empress? Siara''s doubts ran deep, and judging by Cecilia''s grim expression, she wasn''t alone in her skepticism. Even Cecilia didn''t seem to understand why her superiors had made this decision. Siara took a deep breath before forcing herself to focus on something else. "...And what about Teacher Amelia?" she asked at last, her voice quieter but no less urgent. "Is she okay? Did she... really accept this?" Siara knew Amelia well enough to know that her teacher wouldn''t have simply stood by and allowed this to happen without a fight. Amelia''s goal had always been to find a way to bring everyone back to Earth safely. If Nancy had become Empress, then that goal seemed farther away than ever. Cecilia shook her head, confirming Siara''s worst fears. "She didn''t accept it," Cecilia said, her voice soft but firm. "She tried to speak with Empress Nancy directly... but was denied an audience." Siara''s stomach twisted. "She refused to meet with Teacher Amelia?" Cecilia''s gaze darkened slightly. "Yes. Empress Nancy has no intention of leaving. She plans to remain here... permanently." A cold silence settled between them. Siara''s fingers curled tightly, nails digging into her palms as she struggled to process everything. Nancy had not only been crowned Empress¡ªbut she had severed all ties with them. And that, perhaps, was the most dangerous thing of all. After hours of traveling by carriage, the group finally arrived at the capital. As they entered the grand city, they were once again met with an overwhelming reception. The streets were lined with cheering citizens, their voices rising in excitement as they welcomed back the so-called Heroes. Flowers were tossed into the air, banners were waved, and countless people smiled as they called out their names. At first glance, it was a heartwarming scene¡ªone that should have filled them with pride and relief. And yet, for Siara and many of her classmates, those cheers rang hollow. Were these people truly overjoyed at their return? Or had the Divine Knights carefully cultivated this reception, ensuring that their image remained untarnished even in their absence? Siara wasn''t sure. Regardless, they had little choice but to acknowledge the celebration, even if they could feel the emptiness beneath it. As the grand castle finally came into view, Siara felt a strange sensation wash over her. It hadn''t been that long since they had last stood before these towering walls, and yet, something about this place felt... different. The air was heavier. The atmosphere unfamiliar. Before she could dwell on the feeling, a voice suddenly rang out from among her classmates. "Teacher!" Siara turned at the call, and her gaze landed on a familiar figure standing in the castle garden, waiting for them with a warm smile. Amelia Carter. Their teacher stood gracefully beneath the afternoon sun, her soft brown hair flowing gently in the breeze. But what caught Siara''s attention most wasn''t just Amelia¡ªit was the small child in her arms. A little girl, no older than two, nestled comfortably against her. The baby was breathtakingly adorable, with silky black hair, striking green eyes, and pale, porcelain-like skin that made her look almost ethereal. There was an innocence to her gaze, a quiet curiosity as she observed the unfamiliar faces gathering around them. "Is everyone okay?" Amelia asked, stepping forward to greet them. "Teacher!" Most of the students rushed toward her, eager to reunite with the woman who had been their guiding force throughout this ordeal. However, Jason and Aidan silently broke away from the group, quickly disappearing into the castle alongside Clahvel after requesting a private audience with him. Siara, meanwhile, could hardly tear her eyes away from the child in Amelia''s arms. A mix of surprise and disbelief flashed across her face before she finally found her voice. "Is that... Sara?!" she asked, eyes widening. "She''s already this big?!" It seemed almost impossible. Hadn''t Sara been born only a year ago? And yet, before them stood a little girl who looked closer to three. Her growth was unnatural¡ªrapid, almost eerily so. But then again, nothing about their lives since their summoning had followed the natural laws they had once known. Their own bodies had changed drastically since arriving in this world. They had long since stopped being ordinary humans. Perhaps Sara''s rapid development was simply another strange anomaly in this world, a consequence of the altered nature of their existence. At least, that was what they assumed. Because the true reason behind Sara''s unnatural growth had nothing to do with Amelia herself. It lay within the man who had given her life. The man whose very blood carried divine power. Amelia chuckled softly, gently stroking Sara''s dark hair as the little girl clung to her. "She is, isn''t she?" she said with a proud smile. The child nestled comfortably in her arms, her tiny fingers grasping at Amelia''s clothing as she observed the gathered students with quiet curiosity. Her pale skin almost seemed to glow under the sunlight, and her striking green eyes, framed by long lashes, gave her an otherworldly beauty. There was no doubt¡ªthis was no ordinary child. "Wow, she''s absolutely beautiful, teacher!" one of the students blurted out, staring in admiration. "So... do you think it''s more your genes or your mysterious husband''s genes that made her this cute?" the student teased with a playful grin. Amelia huffed in mock indignation before flashing a proud smirk. "Both of us, of course!" she declared, tilting her chin up slightly. Her response drew a round of amused chuckles, though most of them couldn''t deny it¡ªSara looked far from human. Her beauty wasn''t just striking; it was almost divine, as if she carried traces of something beyond mortal blood. Siara, however, tilted her head slightly in curiosity. "Can she speak?" she asked, watching as the little girl''s vivid green eyes darted between them, analyzing the unfamiliar faces. "She can," Amelia replied with a fond smile, shifting her hold on the child. "But she''s a bit shy around new people." As if to prove her point, Sara immediately buried her face against Amelia''s chest, hiding away from the sudden attention. A collective aww rang through the group. "She''s so adorable!" "Ugh, I want to squish those chubby cheeks!" "So, teacher..." another student chimed in with a mischievous smirk. "When are you finally going to introduce us to her father?" "Yeah! We need to see if he''s worthy of you!" The mood, which had been somber since their return, instantly brightened. The once-weary students, burdened by the horrors they had faced, suddenly found themselves immersed in teasing their beloved teacher. For just a moment, it felt like they were back in their old high school life again¡ªwhere the biggest worries they had were exams and friendships, not war, death, and betrayal. Amelia let out a helpless laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, I promise I''ll introduce him... eventually," she said, placing a deliberate emphasis on the last word. "But first, I want to hear everything that''s happened to all of you." Her smile remained, but as her gaze drifted over her gathered students, a shadow passed over her expression. There were missing faces. Jason and Aidan had already walked off with Clahvel, but... others were absent as well. Amelia knew what that meant. Her fingers subconsciously tightened around Sara, and for just a second, grief flickered in her eyes. But she quickly buried it. She had to be strong¡ªfor the ones who were left. Yet, just as she was about to lead them inside, her eyes landed on someone. Aisha. Her gaze widened in shock. "A... Aisha?!" She couldn''t believe what she was seeing. Aisha stood among her classmates, her hand resting gently over her swollen belly. The once-timid girl shifted slightly under Amelia''s stunned stare before offering a small, almost bashful smile. "Ah... teacher," she murmured. "I met someone." The group fell into a heavy silence. Amelia slowly looked around at her other students, expecting an explanation. But one by one, they all averted their gazes, as if they themselves didn''t quite understand how this had happened. It was utterly surreal. Out of everyone, Aisha was the last person Amelia would have expected to end up in this situation. And the timing¡ªjust as she was still trying to process Nancy becoming a mother, and not just to any child, but to the Emperor''s heir, a man thirty years her senior! And now... Aisha? For a moment, Amelia wanted to say something¡ªanything¡ªto express her shock. Maybe even to reprimand her, to question how something like this had happened. But when she saw the happiness in Aisha''s expression, the gentle way she rested her hand over her growing belly, Amelia felt the words die in her throat. With a deep sigh, she chose a different path. "...Come," she said at last, turning toward the castle. "Let''s talk. I want to hear everything." And with that, she led her students forward, bracing herself for whatever revelations lay ahead. Chapter 332: Desire of child In the grand and opulent dining hall of the Castle of the Empire of Light, the Heroes of the Empire had gathered for a formal dinner. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of chandeliers hanging from the towering ceiling, their golden light reflecting off the polished marble floors. Massive stained-glass windows lined the walls, casting colorful patterns upon the pristine white tablecloths. The faint hum of conversation blended with the clinking of silverware as servants, dressed in immaculate uniforms, moved gracefully between the tables, ensuring that no glass remained empty and every plate was filled with the finest delicacies the empire had to offer. The Heroes had arrived only a few hours prior, yet their presence was already required for an important discussion regarding the future. While the official matters were yet to be addressed, for now, the dinner served as a moment of respite¡ªone where they could indulge in a luxurious feast prepared exclusively for them. At one of the grand tables, a strikingly beautiful young woman with honey-blond hair sat with a composed elegance befitting her royal status. The regal golden crown atop her head shimmered in the warm candlelight, and the flowing silk of her royal blue gown accentuated the deep azure of her brilliant eyes. She carried herself with an air of dignity, yet there was a distinct warmth in her expression as she turned toward the small girl seated on Amelia''s lap. "Sarah... open your mouth," Princess Adelia cooed gently, holding a fork with a perfectly round meatball toward the timid child before her. Sarah, a delicate young girl with wide, uncertain eyes, hesitated for a brief moment. She recognized Adelia¡ªamong the sea of unfamiliar faces surrounding her, Adelia''s was one she trusted, if only slightly more than the others. Slowly, she parted her lips, allowing the princess to feed her. The rich flavor of the seasoned meat filled her mouth, but rather than reacting, Sarah simply lowered her gaze, chewing quietly as if overwhelmed by the attention. A soft sigh escaped Adelia''s lips, her expression melting into one of pure adoration. "She''s just too precious..." she murmured in awe, her heart swelling at Sarah''s endearing shyness. She was not alone in her sentiment. Around the table, several young women were watching the scene with a mixture of quiet admiration and barely contained longing. Among them were Siara, Aisha, Sienna, and others, each of them unable to look away from Sarah''s innocent and fragile presence. Siara, in particular, eyed Sarah with a longing gaze, though she refrained from acting impulsively. She had learned quickly that forcing herself into Sarah''s comfort zone would only frighten the child, and that was the last thing she wanted. Though she felt a strong desire to interact with her, she knew that patience was the key to gaining trust. A wistful sigh left Siara''s lips. "Ah... I want a baby too now." She wasn''t the only one. Several of the other girls nodded in agreement, their expressions dreamy as they continued watching Sarah. Though the thought itself was daunting¡ªmotherhood was a responsibility none of them were prepared for¡ªthe mere sight of Sarah evoked something deep within them. However, their musings were swiftly interrupted by Amelia''s sharp voice. "It''s far too soon for any of you to be thinking about that! And don''t even consider it without your parents'' knowledge!" she scolded, her tone reminiscent of a strict yet caring teacher. "But Aisha is pregnant, teacher!" one of the girls piped up, raising her hand enthusiastically as she gestured toward Aisha, who sat calmly at the table, one hand resting protectively over her slightly swollen belly. A moment of silence followed as all eyes turned toward Aisha. A gentle smile graced her lips, and there was an undeniable glow to her presence¡ªone that only a woman carrying life within her could possess. The realization settled upon the group, and for a brief moment, even Amelia found herself at a loss for words. Amelia had already spoken at length with Aisha about her situation, but it was clear that her words had made no difference. Aisha remained unwavering in her decision, showing not even a hint of regret. There was no point in pressing further¡ªAisha''s mind was made up, and it wasn''t as if Amelia could do anything about it anyway. In just a few months¡ªperhaps even sooner, given the pace of her pregnancy¡ªAisha would give birth, and she seemed genuinely happy about it. Looking at her now, it was hard to argue. Aisha radiated a serene, almost maternal glow, her expression one of quiet contentment as she absentmindedly rested her hand on her stomach. The sight of it made Amelia sigh inwardly. "Aisha and Nancy are exceptions," Amelia finally said, her voice gentle yet firm as she addressed the other girls. "But please, before making such a decision, think about it carefully. Raising a child alone is incredibly difficult." There was a brief silence before Sienna suddenly spoke up. "Do you regret it?" Amelia blinked at the unexpected question, but her answer came without hesitation. "Not at all," she said softly. If anything, Nathan had been the greatest emotional support in her life. Ever since she had arrived in this unfamiliar world, Amelia had forced herself to remain calm, to be a stable figure for her students¡ªan anchor amidst the chaos. She had bottled up her fears, her frustrations, her homesickness, all in an effort to project strength. But the weight of it all had started to crush her, eroding her mental health little by little. And then, Nathan appeared. She knew what they had was considered wrong¡ªshe was his teacher, and he was her student¡ªbut he had given her two of the greatest joys she had ever known. Love... and a child. Her gaze softened as she looked down at Sara, who sat quietly in her lap, blissfully unaware of the significance of the moment. Amelia''s expression warmed, her fingers gently brushing against Sara''s silver hair. Across the table, Aisha studied the scene for a moment. A flicker of realization crossed her eyes, as if a puzzle piece had just clicked into place in her mind. But just as quickly as the thought came, she pushed it away. Now was not the time for such speculation. In just a few months¡ªperhaps even sooner¡ªAisha would finally hold her child in her arms. The thought alone filled her with both excitement and nervous anticipation. Watching Amelia with Sara only intensified her longing, making her even more impatient for the day she could cradle her own baby, whispering promises of love and protection. More than anything, Aisha wanted to be the perfect mother. She wanted to give her child warmth, security, and a future untouched by the shadows that loomed over their world. But even as she envisioned the joyful days ahead, an unshakable sadness settled in her heart. Nathan wouldn''t be there. She had known it from the start, but that didn''t make it any easier to accept. The capital of the Empire of Light was too dangerous for him¡ªespecially with the Divine Knights watching their every move like hawks. If Nathan set foot here, it would be a huge risk as they would understand he was alive and Nathan would become a to threat immediately. The very thought made her chest tighten with frustration and helplessness. He should have been with her. From the very beginning, from the moment their child first entered this world, he should have been by her side. Holding her hand. Witnessing the first cries of the life they had created together. Sharing in that irreplaceable moment as a family. But instead, she would have to endure it alone. Aisha''s fingers instinctively curled over her stomach as a wave of sorrow washed over her. Her expression darkened, her gaze turning distant and heavy. It wasn''t fair. All of this¡ªthis forced separation, this suffocating entrapment¡ªwas because of the Divine Knights. They were the enforcers of the Empire''s will, the chains that bound them, ensuring that those like her and Nathan could never truly be free. Her dark eyes dimmed with sadness. How long? How much longer would they have to wait before they could truly be a family? Before they could leave behind this corrupted empire and live without fear? She knew Nathan was fighting for that future. She knew he was doing everything in his power to break the chains that bound them. But Aisha was tired of waiting. Tired of being trapped in this place, forced to pretend that everything was fine. She wanted to leave. She wanted to be with Nathan. She wanted to raise their child in a world where they didn''t have to live in hiding, where love wasn''t shackled by politics and power. One day, she vowed. One day, they would have that future. But for now, she could only wait. And hope. The moment of quiet reflection was suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps¡ªdozens of them, heavy and deliberate, echoing across the grand hall. All conversation ceased. Heads turned as the air in the room grew thick with tension. And then, she arrived. Nancy. She moved with the grace of a queen, adorned in a regal gown that shimmered under the candlelight, each step she took exuding power and authority. But she was no mere noble¡ªno, she was far beyond that now. She was an Empress. A gentle smile graced her lips as she entered, a smile that belied the iron will beneath it. In her hand, she held the smaller, delicate fingers of a young child¡ªa boy no older than six. His bright blond hair gleamed like sunlight, and his golden eyes held a spark of intelligence far beyond his years. There was no mistaking it. This was her son. Lucerus. Nancy was not alone. Flanking her on either side were two imposing figures, their armor gleaming under the flickering chandeliers. They were Divine Knights¡ªwarriors of the highest order, their presence exuding an aura of overwhelming strength. More knights followed closely behind, a silent testament to the sheer power Nancy now commanded. The gathered Heroes remained frozen, their minds struggling to process the sight before them. Nancy. Their former classmate. The same girl they had once laughed with, studied with, fought alongside. Now, she sat before them upon a grand throne, the weight of an empire resting upon her shoulders. She met their stares with an almost playful glint in her eye, relishing their astonishment. Slowly, she moved with practiced elegance, stepping forward until she reached her throne. Without breaking her stride, she seated herself with the ease of someone who had done so countless times before. Lucerus followed suit, his small frame settling comfortably onto his mother''s lap. A smirk tugged at his lips as he surveyed the room, his golden eyes sweeping over the assembled Heroes with an expression that was both curious and amused. Chapter 333: Empress Nancy Lucerus followed suit, his small frame settling comfortably onto his mother''s lap. A smirk tugged at his lips as he surveyed the room, his golden eyes sweeping over the assembled Heroes with an expression that was both curious and amused. The room fell into a stunned silence as all eyes fixated on the child standing beside Nancy. Lucerus. Gasps rippled through the crowd, whispers spreading like wildfire. "Is that... really her child?" "What the hell?! This doesn''t make any sense!" "Are you sure?! He should only be a year old, right?!" "Yeah, I''m pretty sure... but look at him!" "Maybe... maybe it''s another baby she took in?" "That makes no sense! Just look at them¡ªhe''s clearly her son." The disbelief was warranted. Lucerus had been born less than two years ago, yet he already appeared to be six years old. His growth defied all logic, surpassing even the astounding rate at which Sara had matured¡ªa feat that had already left many in awe. But Lucerus... his case was beyond extraordinary. It was something unprecedented, something that shook the very foundation of their understanding of human development. Yet, it was to be expected. With the sheer number of divine blessings bestowed upon him, this unnatural acceleration of growth was merely a reflection of his true potential. And it wasn''t just his physical development that stood out. A tangible wave of magic radiated from Lucerus, pulsating like an untamed force barely contained within his small frame. It was overwhelming. The sheer amount of mana swirling inside him was absurd, utterly impossible for a child born merely two years ago. Even the most powerful among them couldn''t help but wonder¡ªif he possessed this much power now, what kind of monster would he become in a few years? A shiver ran down Siara''s spine as she turned toward Adelia, who stood trembling beside her. "Adelia... are you okay?" Siara asked, her voice laced with concern. Adelia''s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She seemed uneasy¡ªno, far more than that. Anxiety rolled off her in waves, her entire body stiff with tension. Nancy, meanwhile, sat comfortably upon her throne, her expression one of complete satisfaction. She barely seemed to notice the commotion around her, her fingers idly stroking Lucerus''s hair as if he were nothing more than a beloved pet. A knowing smile played on her lips as she watched the others react. Then, amidst the murmurs and speculations, a hushed voice cut through the crowd. "Where is the new emperor?" A beat of silence followed before another whispered response. "Who knows..." Siara''s sharp gaze returned to Adelia, waiting for an answer. Adelia hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if debating whether she should truly reveal the truth. Then, after a long, uncertain pause, she finally spoke. "My brother..." Her voice wavered. "He never accepted this marriage." The revelation sent a shockwave through the room. Even Amelia, who had remained composed up until now, widened her eyes in disbelief. "It''s all just a facade," Adelia continued, her expression darkening. "A carefully constructed image to grant Nancy legitimacy to rule. That''s all it ever was. I haven''t seen my brother for months..." A heavy silence settled over them. Sienna, frowning, was the first to break it. "But... why?" she asked, bewildered. "Why would they go so far just to give Nancy legitimacy?" Did she possess something they weren''t aware of? Some hidden power? Some divine right? Adelia hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, her voice laced with uncertainty. "I''m not entirely sure," she admitted, her brows furrowing. "But I believe it has to do with the fact that her child carries the royal blood of my father. And... she listens to the Divine Knights." The weight of her words settled over the group like a heavy fog, their implications chilling. "My brother... he has his flaws, but he isn''t as obedient as my father was when it came to the Divine Knights. He questions them, refuses to be their puppet. My mother was the same¡ªshe never trusted them, especially after my father''s death. She was always suspicious of what really happened to him." Adelia clenched her fists at her sides, her body visibly tensing. "In the end, Hero Nancy¡ªwho just so happened to bear my father''s child¡ªbecame the perfect candidate. A ''hero'' with royal blood, easy to mold, easy to present to the people. That''s why this marriage between her and my brother... it''s all a farce. A carefully crafted deception to solidify her rule and grant her authority over the people of the Empire of Light." The revelation sent another wave of shock through the room. Siara, struggling to process what she had just heard, took a step closer to Adelia. Her voice was filled with disbelief. "Wait... suspicions? Are you saying the Emperor didn''t die from an illness?" Adelia''s anxious expression deepened. If she had been uneasy before, now she seemed downright terrified. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. Before she could answer, a voice cut through the tension. "Thank you for answering my call, Hero of the Empire of Light," Nancy spoke at last, her tone smooth, almost amused. A serene smile rested on her lips as she gazed at them, utterly detached from their shock and concern. It was as if she had already moved past this conversation, as if their emotions were nothing more than background noise to her. Her classmates stiffened, but Nancy paid them no mind. She remained poised on her throne, her fingers gently stroking Lucerus''s hair as she continued. "There is nothing to worry about regarding the war at Troy," she said, her voice calm, composed. "It was merely a whim of the Goddess Hera. A conflict born out of her personal grievances. And, in the end, the ones who suffered defeat were the Greeks¡ªnot us. Not the Empire of Light." Her words, though spoken with certainty, did little to ease the tension in the room. Her classmates exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions ranging from disbelief to irritation. Nancy wasn''t even there. How could she speak so lightly about the war? How could she dismiss what they had endured so easily? The blood, the chaos, the horror of battle¡ªit was something she hadn''t experienced firsthand, something she could never truly understand. Yet, none of them spoke up. Whether out of fear, frustration, or resignation, they all remained silent. Nancy, still smiling, raised her hand and activated a magic tool. A shimmering light flickered in the air before them, and a moment later, a projected image appeared. A man stood in the projection, his jet-black hair neatly brushed back, his sharp features partially obscured by an eye patch. "This," Nancy said, gesturing toward the image, "is the Hero of Darkness from the Kingdom of Tenebria. He goes by the name Samael." A heavy stillness settled over the room. Then, the image flickered¡ªand changed. A new face appeared. Heiron. The effect was immediate. Eyes widened in horror. Some gasped audibly. Others flinched as if struck. A few even let out small, strangled yelps of fear. For a brief moment, the room was filled with a suffocating sense of dread. The mere sight of Heiron''s face was enough to send shivers down their spines. Memories of battle¡ªof the sheer brutality he had unleashed upon them¡ªflashed through their minds. That man... That monster... He had slaughtered so many people without hesitation, without a flicker of remorse. Even now, long after the battle had ended, his image alone was enough to awaken something primal in them. Fear. Trauma. A visceral reaction that none of them could suppress. And Nancy? She continued smiling, watching their reactions with quiet amusement. "Samael and Heiron... are one and the same." For a moment, no one spoke. Siara''s breath hitched as she turned her gaze toward the projected images. The resemblance was undeniable¡ªthe same sharp features, the same cruel smirk hidden beneath an air of cold indifference. No one had considered it before. Samael, the feared Hero of Darkness. Heiron, the ruthless executioner who had haunted their nightmares. They were the same person. "What are you saying?" Siara demanded, stepping forward with a frown. But before Nancy could respond, a childish voice cut through the tension. "Mommy, can I take her as a slave?" Lucerus''s small finger pointed directly at Siara, his tone devoid of hesitation. The room froze. Siara''s eyes widened in disbelief, and a collective shudder passed through her classmates. The silence was deafening. Then¡ªNancy laughed. A light, casual laugh, as if she were merely humoring the whims of an innocent child. "No, my dear," she cooed, stroking Lucerus''s hair. "She is a Hero. You cannot do that." Lucerus pouted in disappointment but obediently lowered his hand. Siara, still reeling, barely registered Nancy''s next words. "It has been confirmed by the Gods themselves. Samael is Heiron, and he is the greatest threat to the Empire of Light." Nancy''s eyes flickered with something unreadable as she swept her gaze across the room. "But not only to us," she continued, her voice turning softer. "He is also a threat to you Heroes. He is the wall separating you from the Demon King... from your freedom... from returning to Earth." Silence fell. Then, something shifted. The fear in their eyes, while still present, was joined by something else¡ªhope. They had all but resigned themselves to this world, to a fate they never asked for. But now... there was a chance. A chance to go back. "How are we supposed to do that?" someone spoke up, their voice shaking. "He''s a monster! Stronger than all of us combined!" "Yeah! He easily took down Jason and Aidan like they were nothing!" Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. They had all witnessed his overwhelming strength firsthand. They knew the sheer gap between them. Nancy, still smiling, folded her hands gracefully in front of her. "Do not worry about that," she assured them. "The Divine Knights have arranged a special training for you. But you must put in the effort." Her words, meant to be reassuring, only filled them with more unease. Training? Against that monster? Yet, if it meant they could return home... did they have a choice? "Now," Nancy continued, smoothly changing the subject. "Let''s move on to another matter. Since Kastoria chose to ally itself with Tenebria after their defeat, we too have decided to forge a true alliance. Not with a Kingdom, but with an Empire." Siara narrowed her eyes. "An Empire?" Nancy nodded. "Yes. The Empire of Ra." The name alone sent another ripple of uncertainty through the room. "The Empire of Ra?" Siara repeated. Nancy''s smile widened. "Indeed. The God Anubis has personally accepted our proposal of alliance." Gasps echoed among the Heroes. A God had accepted an alliance with them? Nancy''s voice was smooth and composed as she concluded, "Very soon, the Heroes of both nations will meet. Until then, I expect all of you to train diligently. You must be ready." After delivering her final words with an air of detached authority, Nancy rose gracefully from her seat, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She grasped Lucerus''s small hand in hers, her grip firm yet tender, and strode out of the grand hall with an air of indifference, as though the chaos and responsibilities she left behind were no longer her concern. The echoes of her heels clicking against the polished marble floor faded as she disappeared through the towering double doors, leaving the assembled courtiers and advisors to deal with the aftermath of her decisions. "Mommy, I''m hungry," Lucerus whined softly, tugging at her gown with his tiny fingers. Nancy paused, glancing down at her son with a fleeting expression of maternal affection before her usual composed demeanor returned. She patted his head gently, her touch almost perfunctory, and turned to address the maid who had been trailing behind them. "Maid, take Lucerus," Nancy commanded, her voice cool and authoritative. "Ensure he is fed and put to bed. I have matters to attend to." The maid bowed deeply, her hands clasped respectfully in front of her. "At once, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She stepped forward and took Lucerus''s hand, leading him away with a gentle but firm grip. The child glanced back at his mother, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and longing, but Nancy''s attention had already shifted elsewhere. As the maid and Lucerus disappeared down the corridor, Nancy continued her journey to her private quarters. The opulent halls of the palace were bathed in the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, their light casting intricate patterns on the walls adorned with tapestries depicting the empire''s storied history. Her gown, a masterpiece of silk and embroidery, trailed behind her like a river of liquid gold, the fabric shimmering with every step she took. Upon entering her chambers, Nancy was greeted by the sight of Clahvel, her most trusted confidante and advisor. Clahvel stood near the ornate fireplace, her arms crossed and a knowing smile playing on her lips. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across her sharp features, accentuating the calculating gleam in her eyes. "You did an excellent job, Empress," Clahvel said, her voice smooth and laced with admiration. "The court was left speechless, as always." Nancy smirked, a flicker of pride crossing her face as she approached her vanity. "Of course I did," she replied, her tone dripping with confidence. "I was born to be an Empress. It''s in my blood." She reached up and deftly unfastened the delicate strap of her gown, allowing the fabric to slip from her shoulders and pool at her feet. The cool air of the chamber kissed her bare skin, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she turned her attention to the two Divine Knights who stood at attention near the doorway, their imposing figures clad in gleaming armor that seemed to radiate an otherworldly aura. "Do it?" Nancy said, her voice low and commanding, her eyes glinting with anticipation. The knights obeyed without hesitation. They removed their helmets in unison, revealing strikingly handsome faces that seemed almost too perfect to be real. Their chiseled features were framed by cascading locks of hair, one dark as midnight and the other golden like the sun. They set their helmets aside and began to shed their armor, the heavy plates clinking as they fell to the floor, leaving them clad only in their undergarments. Nancy watched with a predatory gaze, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as they approached her. The first knight, his body sculpted like a statue of a god, closed the distance between them in a few strides. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that mirrored her own. Nancy responded in kind, her hands roaming over his muscular chest and down to the waistband of his pants. With practiced ease, she freed his hardened length, her fingers wrapping around his girth as she guided him toward her. She gasped as he entered her, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he began to thrust into her with a rhythm that was both urgent and relentless. "Haaan??! Yes! Fuck me!" Nancy cried out, her voice a mixture of ecstasy and command. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the chamber, mingling with her moans and the knight''s ragged breaths. The second knight, not to be outdone, moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips firmly. He pulled her away from the first knight, eliciting a whimper of protest from Nancy, but it was quickly replaced by a gasp of pleasure as he filled her from behind. His movements were deliberate and powerful, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. The first knight, now free, positioned himself in front of her, his cock glistening with her arousal. Nancy leaned forward, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his length with practiced skill. Her face was flushed, her eyes half-lidded with desire, and her body trembled as she was pleasured from both ends. Clahvel observed the scene with a detached calm, her expression unreadable. She had seen this countless times before¡ªNancy indulging in her carnal desires, using the knights as instruments of her pleasure. It was a familiar sight, one that no longer surprised her. With a faint sigh, Clahvel turned away, her mind already shifting to the next task at hand. Chapter 334: Tenebrias growth The Kingdom of Tenebria The Kingdom of Tenebria had endured an era of suffering, its people bearing the weight of devastation left behind by the last Demon King''s war. The madness that had consumed their former ruler had led to a relentless conflict that drained the kingdom of its soldiers, wealth, and even the faith of its own citizens. Though decades had passed since that dark chapter in history, the scars of war had yet to heal. Despite their desperate attempts to recover, Tenebria remained weakened. The neighboring human kingdoms, emboldened by their losses, launched frequent attacks on their borders, raiding villages and towns along the outskirts. Their people, once proud, now lived in fear, suffering the cruel discrimination imposed upon them by other races. Even the gods themselves seemed to turn their backs on Tenebria, as if punishing them for sins they had no part in. But everything changed with a single event¡ªan event that would alter the course of history for the forsaken kingdom. The Summoning of the Hero Like the other kingdoms, Tenebria had sought salvation through the ancient ritual of hero summoning. Their mages, priests, and scholars worked tirelessly, calling forth a champion who could stand against their enemies and restore balance. However, unlike the others who summoned multiple Heroes, Tenebria''s summoning yielded only one. A single Hero. A man who would come to be known as the Hero of Darkness. This lone warrior, a stranger to their world, possessed a power that struck fear into their hearts. He wielded the forbidden Dark Magic¡ªthe same magic that had once fueled the Demon King''s reign of terror. Whispers of dread spread among the people. Would this so-called Hero follow in the Demon King''s footsteps? Would his existence provoke the slumbering darkness, reigniting the flames of war? For a time, uncertainty loomed over the kingdom. Yet, contrary to their fears, disaster did not come. The Hero of Darkness, Samael, proved to be nothing like the tyrants of the past. He was strong, formidable, and carried an air of authority that demanded respect. His presence was undeniable, his very existence radiating a quiet yet overwhelming force. However, unlike the Demon King, he was neither cruel nor reckless. He was composed, sharp-minded, and most importantly¡ªsane. His power did not bring chaos but rather stability. A Savior, Not a Tyrant fortunately. Though it took time, the people of Tenebria began to see Samael not as a threat, but as a beacon of hope. Under his leadership, the kingdom slowly regained its footing. The once-broken lands stabilized, and the fear that had clung to their people like a shroud began to lift. But it was his battle against the Kingdom of Kastoria that solidified his place in their hearts forever. Word spread like wildfire. The world trembled at the news¡ªSamael, the Hero of Darkness, had single-handedly defeated the Heroes of Kastoria. He had not only repelled their forces but had secured their vow to never again wage war against Tenebria. For the first time in decades, the people of Tenebria felt something they had long forgotten¡ªpride. No longer were they merely a struggling kingdom desperately fending off attacks. No longer did they cower in fear of sudden invasions. Samael had not just won a battle; he had ensured their survival, granted them a future free from oppression. To them, he was more than a summoned hero. He was their protector, their savior and their promise of a better future. Since the moment he had appeared, the Kingdom of Tenebria had undergone an unprecedented transformation, experiencing a period of rapid growth unlike anything in its history. Once a war-torn nation on the brink of collapse, struggling under the weight of endless conflicts, it had now begun to flourish at an astonishing rate. The wealth they had lost to war and mismanagement was swiftly being restored, their cities and fortresses rebuilt stronger than before, and, perhaps most notably, the streets were no longer tainted with the stench of senseless bloodshed. For the first time in years, the people of Tenebria could breathe without the constant fear of war looming over them. It had been a full year since their armies had last engaged in a major battle. While small skirmishes still erupted in distant territories, they were nothing compared to the ceaseless warfare that plagued the Kingdom of Kastoria. There were no grand invasion plans, no desperate struggles for survival¡ªonly an uneasy peace. But this peace did not come from treaties or diplomatic negotiations. It was a peace born from fear. The entire continent had grown wary, if not outright terrified, of the man known as Samael. Yet, it was not just Samael who instilled fear into the hearts of kings and generals alike. It was the three enigmatic women who always stood by his side¡ªhis Black Knights. Each of them was a paragon of strength, possessing skills and abilities that bordered on the supernatural. Their beauty was as captivating as it was unsettling, for beneath their alluring appearances lay something terrifying. They exuded an aura of untamed power, an unrestrained force that seemed capable of reducing entire cities to ruin if left unchecked. Yet, for all their chaos, they obeyed only one man. Nathan. And it was fortunate they followed his command, for if left to their own devices, they could bring untold destruction to the world. Within the capital of Tenebria, life had taken on a new vibrancy. Once a bleak and desolate place, shrouded in darkness and misery due to the unrelenting wars, the city now pulsed with energy. The once somber streets, where only the sounds of marching soldiers and grieving families had echoed, were now filled with the laughter of children playing in the open. Couples strolled through the marketplaces hand in hand, while elders sat outside their homes, chatting and enjoying the warmth of the sun. Parents, once burdened with sorrow, now smiled as they watched their offspring grow up in a world that no longer demanded bloodshed from them. Under the golden radiance of the midday sun, the capital of Tenebria had become a sight to behold¡ªa city reborn. And yet, what was perhaps most astonishing was the presence of humans among them. Human merchants, a sight that would have been inconceivable in the past, now walked the streets of Tenebria freely. This remarkable change had come about thanks to the delicate yet strategic alliance formed with the Kingdom of Kastoria. Though visitors remained few, and many still harbored deep-seated fears about entering a city of demons, those who had braved their uncertainties to see the capital for themselves found their preconceived notions shattered. They expected horrors, monstrous beings, and barbaric savagery. Instead, they found a city that mirrored their own. The demons laughed, they shopped, they celebrated, and they embraced life just as any human would. The so-called monsters were no different from them. It was a sight that left many guests, including seasoned merchants who had traveled far and wide, utterly speechless. For in Tenebria, a long-lost truth had been unveiled: there was no inherent difference between demons and humans¡ªonly the prejudices that had been passed down for generations. Once again, the catalyst behind this great transformation was none other than Samael. It was he who had secured the alliance with the Kingdom of Kastoria, a partnership that had once seemed impossible. Through his efforts, Tenebria had stabilized, and the looming specter of war had finally begun to dissipate. However, even his influence alone would not have been enough to guide the nation toward true prosperity. The turning point had come with the rise of their new queen¡ªAzariah. She was everything the demons had longed for in a ruler: strong, intelligent, and, above all, compassionate. Unlike the tyrants of the past, Azariah did not seek to rule with an iron fist or through fear and domination. She genuinely cared for her people, working tirelessly to ensure the growth of the nation and the well-being of all who lived within its borders. Under her reign, the streets flourished, the markets thrived, and even the once-hostile relations with humans had begun to mend. It was no wonder the people adored her. But beneath their admiration, a single lingering fear remained¡ªone they dared not speak too loudly. The previous Demon King. Wherever he was, they prayed he would never return. The last thing they wanted was for their hard-earned progress to be undone by his reappearance. They feared that if he did, all the peace and prosperity they had gained under Azariah''s rule would crumble, and they would be thrust back into an era of war and suffering. For now, however, life within the royal castle continued as usual. The grand halls of the Demon King''s palace buzzed with activity. Maids and servants moved diligently through the corridors, their footsteps light yet purposeful as they worked tirelessly to maintain the castle''s pristine splendor. Every surface gleamed, not a speck of dust to be found, a testament to the dedication of the staff. In the castle''s vast kitchens, the air was thick with the scent of sizzling meats, fresh bread, and exotic spices. Men and women alike labored over massive stoves and grand banquet tables, meticulously preparing meals fit for royalty. The clang of pots and the hum of voices blended into a rhythmic symphony of work, their movements precise and efficient. Beyond the castle''s walls, guards patrolled the grounds with practiced vigilance. Clad in dark armor, their eyes sharp, they moved through the courtyards and along the stone pathways, ensuring the safety of their queen and her domain. And in the heart of the castle gardens, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the leaves, sat a lone figure. She was seated gracefully upon an ornate stone bench, surrounded by vibrant blooms swaying gently in the breeze. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, its silky strands catching the golden light. But it was her eyes¡ªpiercing blue and filled with an enigmatic depth¡ªthat set her apart. She was not of this land. Even at a glance, it was clear that she was foreign to this continent, her features distinct, her presence almost ethereal against the lush greenery of the garden. It was Briseis. Chapter 335: Briseiss pain Briseis sat alone, her delicate frame bathed in the golden embrace of the afternoon sun. The warm breeze caressed her skin, carrying with it the soothing rustle of leaves dancing in the air. In the distance, chiropractor birds flitted about, their wings slicing through the wind as they moved in rhythmic harmony. She watched them with an unreadable expression, her thoughts drifting like the leaves carried by the gentle gusts. It had been several months since she had left behind everything she once knew and moved to Tenebria. A decision she had made entirely on her own. She had needed this change¡ªneeded an escape, both from the suffocating remnants of her past and from the ghosts that lurked within the familiar walls of Troy. Remaining in the Trojan lands had felt like drowning in a sea of painful memories, each wave pulling her deeper into the abyss of her past suffering. The fall of Lyrnessus still haunted her, an inescapable wound that festered in the corners of her mind. And then, there was the nightmare that followed¡ªthe moment she had fallen into Agamemnon''s clutches. Though he had never laid a hand on her in the way he did with so many others, what he had done to her was something even worse¡ªa relentless assault on her psyche, a slow, torturous unraveling of her will. He had forced her to drink vile concoctions, to swallow strange substances that made her body react in unnatural ways. She had been nothing more than an unwilling spectator, forced to watch as he ravaged countless women, his cruel voice whispering to her that this was merely preparation for her turn. The mere memory of it sent a shudder down her spine. He was a monster, a man bereft of any shred of humanity. She would never forget the day Nathan arrived, cutting through the shadows that had imprisoned her. He had saved her before the inevitable could happen, before Agamemnon could finally claim her as he had promised. And yet, despite her freedom, the scars remained¡ªdeep, invisible wounds carved into her soul. The months she had spent in Agamemnon''s grasp had left an imprint upon her that could not be erased. When she returned to Troy, she had expected to heal. But instead, she had been met with yet another battle¡ªthis time against her own body. Without the substances Agamemnon had forced upon her, she suffered the cruel effects of withdrawal. Her body had grown dependent on them, shackled to the poisons he had fed her. Every moment had been a war against herself, and she had fought it alone, shutting herself away within the royal palace, lost in her suffering. Even when Nathan avenged her, when she learned that he had slain Agamemnon with his own hands, she had felt only fleeting relief. The joy of his death was hollow in the face of the damage he had left behind. And so, she had withered, isolating herself from the world, retreating into the dark recesses of her own mind. She cried until she could cry no more, locked in her chamber as the echoes of her past tormented her. Until Astynome came. Unlike the others, Astynome did not pity her. She did not demand that Briseis move on or attempt to drag her from her solitude. Instead, she was patient. She was kind. She listened. And when Briseis had no more tears left to shed, Astynome had offered her something precious¡ªa chance to escape, to leave behind the land that had been tainted with so much suffering. A chance to begin anew. In Tenebria. Briseis had accepted. She had known, deep down, that leaving the Trojan lands was the right choice. Staying would have meant being haunted by the memories of war, of loss, and of the countless scars¡ªboth seen and unseen¡ªthat the conflict had left on her and so many others. The devastation of the Trojan War had carved itself into the very soil, and she could no longer bear to walk upon it. Her recovery had been slow, painstaking. Some days felt lighter, almost normal, but others dragged her back into the abyss, reminding her that wounds of the soul did not heal as easily as those of the flesh. "Briseis." A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Astynome approaching, her graceful steps barely disturbing the grass beneath her feet. Briseis offered her a small, warm smile. "I thought you would be busy." It was a fair assumption¡ªAstynome was a priestess of the gods, and her duties kept her occupied most days. Since arriving in Tenebria, with the aid of Nathan''s influence, Astynome had built a grand temple dedicated not just to Apollo, but to all the gods. It was her way of ensuring that Tenebria would have divine favor, expanding the pantheon''s presence and securing blessings from multiple deities. Because of this, she was almost always preoccupied, managing rituals, prayers, and the growing number of followers who sought her guidance. "I decided to take a rest today," Astynome said as she gracefully lowered herself onto the seat beside Briseis. "How are you feeling?" Briseis exhaled slowly, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "Unlike you, Helen, or Clytemnestra, I have nothing to do. My life feels empty and useless." It was the truth she had been struggling with for months. While she, too, was a priestess, acting as a conduit between the gods and Tenebria, it didn''t feel like enough. Helen and Clytemnestra had taken on significant roles in aiding the queen with Tenebria''s economy and governance¡ªnatural responsibilities for women who had once been queens themselves, raised with the knowledge and education befitting their former stations. But Briseis? She had no such role. No purpose. And that weighed on her more than she cared to admit. Astynome shook her head gently. "You know that''s not true, Briseis. We would gladly accept your help¡ªbut first, you need to heal." Briseis clenched her fists. "I have recovered!" "No, you haven''t," Astynome countered, her voice firm but kind. "Do you remember what happened a month ago?" Briseis''s face flushed crimson, and she quickly averted her gaze, her heart pounding with the memory she wished she could forget. "I... I wasn''t in the right state of mind... I didn''t mean to¡ª" "Are you sure?" Astynome''s lips curled into a teasing smirk as she looked at Briseis. "You barged into Nathan''s room and attacked him. If you ask me, it seemed like you wanted him to take you." She let out a soft laugh, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Everyone within Nathan''s inner circle had heard about that peculiar incident. In fact, Astynome was particularly aware of it¡ªafter all, she had been in Nathan''s bed that night. It had been her night to accompany him, sharing in the pleasure of his warmth, when Briseis had stormed into the room, completely out of her mind. The memory was still fresh, and Astynome found it difficult not to tease her friend about it. Briseis flushed crimson, biting her lower lip. "I... I wasn''t myself..." "Indeed, you weren''t," Astynome agreed, her expression softening. "And you still aren''t." Briseis'' strange urges had been growing worse, worrying everyone around her. The changes in her behavior, the sudden waves of uncontrollable desire, and the erratic moments where she seemed almost possessed¡ªnone of it was normal. Before she could take on any important role, Astynome needed to ensure she could control these impulses. Otherwise, it would only bring more problems. Briseis fell silent, unable to find a response. Instead, her mind drifted back to that night, replaying the scene over and over again. Hesitantly, she spoke. "Do you think he sees me as a beast now?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, fear laced in every syllable. The thought of having given Nathan such a terrible impression made her stomach twist in knots. Astynome burst into laughter. "So that''s why you''ve been avoiding him all this time? You''re scared he thinks you''re some lust-crazed monster?" "Astynome!" Briseis protested, her face burning even hotter. But Astynome only laughed harder before shaking her head. "You have nothing to worry about when it comes to Nathan. He doesn''t see you as a monster. If anything, he''s worried about you. You should talk to him." "I... I can''t..." Briseis lowered her gaze. "Compared to his other women, I''m the worst. I''m nothing. Even you are more amazing than me... And he has Helen, the Queen, and his three knights. I don''t stand a chance." That gnawing inferiority had never left her. Ever since Agamemnon had defiled her in mind and body, she had felt unworthy. And when she looked at the powerful, beautiful, and accomplished women surrounding Nathan, she felt even smaller, even more tainted. "Oh, for the gods'' sake!" Astynome huffed. "Stop sulking and come with me!" Before Briseis could react, Astynome grabbed her hand and, with surprising strength, began dragging her along. "W-Wait! Astynome, what are you doing?!" "I''m making you face him!" Astynome declared. "You need to speak to him, and I won''t take no for an answer!" Chapter 336: Morning with Azariah * In the lavish royal chambers of the newly crowned Queen of Tenebria, the air was thick with heat and the intoxicating scent of passion. Velvet curtains swayed gently from the breeze slipping through the balcony doors, the flickering candlelight casting sultry shadows over the luxurious space. The massive bed, draped in silk sheets of midnight black, bore witness to the fevered entanglement of two bodies, moving in rhythm with primal desire. "Haaah...! Hnnngh??! Ahhh!" Moans of sheer pleasure echoed off the high ceilings, mingling with the rhythmic sound of flesh meeting flesh, a symphony of unrestrained ecstasy. The sheets were already disheveled beyond recognition, damp with sweat and the lingering remnants of their relentless passion. Two figures writhed atop the bed, entwined in an unbreakable embrace. One was a strikingly handsome young man, no older than nineteen, his white hair cascading in soft waves around his chiseled face. His physique was sculpted to perfection, every inch of his toned body exuding raw strength and dominance. His pale skin seemed almost luminous under the dim candlelight, a stark contrast against the flushed, trembling woman beneath him. Azariah Tenebria, Queen of the Tenebria Kingdom, lay sprawled beneath him, utterly undone. The regal air that once surrounded her was nowhere to be seen¡ªnow, she was reduced to a quivering, moaning mess, lost in the abyss of pleasure. Her silver hair clung to her damp forehead, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks as she arched her back in sheer bliss. Her crimson eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were hazy with lust, unfocused as they gazed up at the man above her. Small whimpers and gasps left her swollen lips as her body trembled beneath the relentless pace he set. "Haaahhh??! F-Fuck me, Samael! Hnnnngh! M-more! Ahhh...Yes!" she cried, voice breaking into breathless sobs of pleasure. Her exquisite, bare body was flushed with a deep pink hue, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. Soft, needy gasps escaped her lips as Samael''s hands roamed over her trembling form, fingers pressing possessively into her delicate curves. A series of love bites adorned her body, particularly around the swell of her breasts¡ªmarks of his unrelenting desire for her. Her nipples, sensitive from his earlier ministrations, stood erect, begging for his touch once more. Samael''s grip on her hips tightened as he drove himself into her with unrelenting force, each thrust drawing out another desperate moan from the woman beneath him. PAH! PAH! PAH! The lewd sounds of their joining filled the room, mixing with the Queen''s broken cries. Her walls clenched around him as another wave of euphoria crashed over her, body arching off the bed as her mind went blank from sheer ecstasy. "HAAAAN??! S-SAMAEL!!!" A shudder ran through her entire body as she convulsed in pleasure, her fingers digging into the sheets as another orgasm wracked through her. Samael smirked above her, watching her fall apart so beautifully beneath him. "That must be your fourth one, Azariah," he murmured, voice dripping with amusement as he caught the way her eyes rolled back, her lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure. But he was far from done. Before she could even catch her breath, he flipped her effortlessly onto all fours, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Her soft, round ass was now facing him, a sight that made his hunger deepen. "Haaah... w-wait...! S-Samael, ahhh! P-please, I... I need a moment¡ª!" She barely managed to get the words out before he thrust into her once more, stealing the air from her lungs with the force of his movement. "AHHHN??!! N-no... too much¡ª! Haaaahhh!!" Her arms gave out as she collapsed onto the sheets, her face buried into the pillows as Samael pounded into her relentlessly. His large hands roamed down her back before grasping the soft weight of her breasts, squeezing them with delicious firmness as his fingers teased the sensitive peaks. Azariah gasped, her body melting beneath him as she surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure. PAH! PAH! PAH! The room was filled with nothing but the raw sounds of their passion, their cries of pleasure intertwining as they lost themselves in each other once more. The Queen, usually so composed and authoritative, was now nothing more than a whimpering, writhing mess, her body and soul completely at his mercy. If anyone were to witness the esteemed and perpetually smiling Queen of their Kingdom in such a state of abandon, they would undoubtedly be struck with astonishment. The sight of her, moaning and pleading with unbridled passion, would be a revelation that would shatter any preconceived notions of her regal composure. "Haaan??! Hm??!! S..so good!" Azariah, who had only moments ago requested a respite, was now utterly consumed by waves of ecstasy. She had yielded her body entirely to Samael, who was taking her from behind with a fervor that left her breathless. His hands gripped her waist firmly, guiding her movements as he thrust deeply and rhythmically, each motion eliciting a symphony of gasps and moans from her lips. PAH! PAH! PAH! The room echoed with the primal sounds of their union, a raw and unfiltered melody that spoke of their shared desire. For what felt like an eternity, but was merely five minutes, Nathan continued to claim her, his body moving in perfect sync with hers. The world outside their chamber faded into insignificance, their existence reduced to the sensation of skin against skin, the heat of their bodies merging as one. And then, a knock at the door, a harsh intrusion into their private world. "Your Majesty." The voice from beyond the door was a jarring reminder of the reality that awaited them, but Azariah was too far gone to heed its call. "O...Ohaaaah!!" she cried out, her voice laced with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. Nathan, however, was undeterred. He continued his relentless pace, his body a machine of desire, driven by an insatiable hunger for her. "Your Majesty." The voice called again, more insistent this time. "W...what is it haaan!" Azariah managed to gasp out, her words punctuated by the rhythm of Nathan''s thrusts. Without warning, the door swung open, revealing Semiramis standing in the doorway, her armor glinting in the dim light of the chamber. Azariah''s eyes widened in shock and embarrassment, but Nathan showed no sign of slowing down. "N...No...Haaan??!" Azariah tried to conceal her compromising position, but Nathan''s grip on her waist was unyielding, his movements becoming more urgent and frenzied. "It''s just Semiramis," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he continued to drive into her. "HAAAAN??! HAAAN??! YEESSS!" Azariah''s moans filled the room, her body trembling with each powerful thrust. This time, her cries of pleasure reached Semiramis'' ears, leaving no doubt as to the nature of the scene unfolding before her. Semiramis stood there, her expression a mix of resignation and mild amusement. This was not the first time she had walked in on such a spectacle, and despite the absurdity of the situation, it had become a familiar sight over the past few months. The sight of Nathan and Azariah, lost in their passion, was almost commonplace now. "I...It''s coming! HYAAA????!!!" Azariah''s body tensed as she reached the peak of her pleasure, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. She threw her head back, her hands clutching the bedsheets as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. Her body trembled and weakened, collapsing onto the bed, but Nathan held her firmly in place, his own release imminent. With a final, deep thrust, he spilled his seed into her, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. Azariah let out a long, satisfied moan as she felt the warmth of his essence filling her, a sensation that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her body. "Hmmmmm~~" she sighed, her body finally relaxing as Nathan slowly withdrew from her. The blend of their essences dripped down from her, a testament to their shared passion. Only then did Nathan release his grip on her, allowing her to collapse fully onto the bed, her body sated and spent. Nathan pushed aside the soft, silken sheets and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the cool air of the chamber brushing against his bare skin. His movements were unhurried, languid even, as if savoring the remnants of the night''s rest. His gaze drifted toward the half-finished glass of wine resting on the nearby table¡ªan indulgence from the previous night. He reached for it, the deep crimson liquid swirling gently before he downed the remainder in a single smooth motion, the rich taste lingering on his tongue. Turning his attention toward the woman standing before him, he let a smirk tug at his lips. "What is it this time, Semiramis?" he drawled, his voice carrying an amused lilt. "Did our night two days ago not satisfy you? If you desire more, I wouldn''t mind indulging you right now. I still have plenty of energy left for you." His golden eyes flickered with mischief as he studied her, waiting for her reaction. Semiramis, despite the sudden warmth creeping up her cheeks, quickly composed herself. She was no stranger to his teasing, but the way he spoke¡ªso confident, so effortless¡ªalways left her breathless. Even so, duty came first. Shaking her head, she forced her expression into something more composed, her voice taking on a firm edge. "I am not here for that, Lord Commander," she stated resolutely. Nathan chuckled at her formality. He understood why she maintained such decorum during matters of importance, even though he had long since broken the barriers between them in private. As one of his most trusted retainers, Semiramis remained ever-dedicated to her role, her unwavering discipline making her all the more alluring. Setting the empty glass back on the table with a soft clink, Nathan exhaled through his nose. "I see. Another problem, then?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. Semiramis nodded, her crimson eyes darkening with urgency. "Yes, and a more pressing one than before, Lord Commander," she affirmed. "Please follow me. Everyone is already gathered and waiting for the meeting." Chapter 337: Meeting at Tenebria (1) Semiramis nodded, her crimson eyes darkening with urgency. "Yes, and a more pressing one than before, Lord Commander," she affirmed. "Please follow me. Everyone is already gathered and waiting for the meeting." Nathan''s sharp gaze settled on Semiramis as he gave a subtle nod. He had long grown accustomed to the constant turmoil that brewed within the heart of any kingdom. There were always problems¡ªschemes, betrayals, and power struggles lurking beneath the surface. However, the tone of Semiramis''s voice carried a weight that was different this time, more solemn, more urgent. "Let me take a shower first," Nathan stated, his voice calm but decisive as he turned toward the bath. "I... I will come as well," Azariah murmured, attempting to rise despite her trembling legs. The aftereffects of their passionate sex still lingered in her body, leaving her barely able to stand. Nathan cast her a knowing look, amusement flickering in his eyes. "If you bathe with me, I will definitely fuck you again. Stay here and rest. I''ll handle this." Azariah pouted, clearly reluctant to be left behind, but in the end, she relented, slumping back into the plush bed with a satisfied smile playing on her lips. The glow of pleasure still lingered in her expression, and though she sulked, she did not push further. Nathan made his way to the bath, allowing the warm water to wash away the fatigue from his body. As the steam rose around him, his mind wandered, processing the weight of Semiramis''s words. Something serious had happened. He could feel it. After refreshing himself, he donned attire befitting his status¡ªan immaculate, dark surcoat embroidered with intricate silver patterns, signifying his rank as Lord Commander. He fastened his belt and adjusted his cloak before stepping out, his presence now carrying the full weight of authority. Without wasting another moment, he turned to Semiramis, his voice firm and demanding. "What''s going on? How serious is it?" Semiramis''s expression remained composed, yet her amber eyes flickered with a hint of tension. "It concerns the Empire of Light... and a town within Tenebria. It has been attacked." She offered no further explanation, but the gravity of her words was clear. Nathan wasted no time. Without hesitation, he strode toward the meeting room, his pace swift and purposeful. As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the past. Two long years had passed since he arrived in this world, and several months had slipped by since the end of the Trojan War. The battlefield had long been cleared, and the echoes of war had begun to fade, but the world had not remained stagnant. Changes had come¡ªsome expected, others far more shocking. The most astonishing of them all? Nancy had been crowned Empress. Nathan''s face darkened. He did not take the news well¡ªfar from it. To him, Nancy was, without a doubt, the most insufferable, manipulative woman to ever exist. The very idea of her sitting on a throne, wielding authority, made his blood boil. If she had been given power, it could only mean one thing¡ªthe Divine Knights had orchestrated this move, and Nathan had no doubt that the previous Emperor''s so-called ''illness'' was nothing more than a carefully executed assassination. Not that he cared about that useless Emperor. His death meant little to Nathan. But what truly disturbed him was the fate of those left behind. His thoughts drifted toward Helena and Adelia. They were not yet close enough for him to consider them as his women, but with Nancy as Empress, their lives were now in peril. He knew exactly what kind of woman she was. Even back in high school, she had been ruthless¡ªcrushing anyone who threatened her, tearing them apart psychologically until they were nothing but broken remnants of their former selves. Nathan had resisted her back then. But this time, Nancy held the power of an Empress. And that made all the difference. Nathan''s thoughts remained fixated on the women he cared about most¡ªhis stepsisters, Amelia, Aisha, and Courtney. But above all, his mind lingered on Aisha. "She should have given birth by now," he mused inwardly, his expression darkening with concern. Just a week ago, he had received a secret letter from Aisha, informing him that she was on the verge of giving birth. She had written that it would only be a matter of days. Regret gnawed at him. He should have been there. He wanted to be there. But the Empire of Light had reinforced its security to an extreme degree, making any attempt to reach them nearly impossible without brute force. Nathan had no intention of taking reckless risks where his loved ones were concerned. Not until he was absolutely certain he could crush all opposition and extract them safely. It required patience¡ªan immense amount of it¡ªbut he was willing to wait. Eventually, Nathan and Semiramis arrived at the meeting room. As the heavy doors swung open, revealing the grand chamber within, it became apparent that everyone was already present. The moment Nathan stepped inside, every figure in the room rose to their feet in silent acknowledgment of his authority. Among those gathered were the familiar Demon Commanders. Kratos, the Vice-Commander. Laguna and Kragen stood at attention as well. The aged and wise advisor, Cadell, observed him keenly from his place at the table. Among them, Kratos and Megara had once been the most resistant to Nathan''s appointment as Lord Commander. They had doubted his worth, questioned his strength, and resisted his authority. But now? Now, their eyes held only unwavering respect for the man before them. Since his resounding victory over the Heroes of Kastoria, his sheer dominance on the battlefield, and the sweeping reforms he had enacted, Nathan''s leadership had proven to be nothing short of legendary. His nomination had not only been justified¡ªit had been transformative. Under his command, Tenebria had risen from the shadows of uncertainty and reclaimed its position as a true powerhouse. The surrounding kingdoms no longer viewed Tenebria as a fractured land of exiles and remnants. No, they now regarded it with caution, with wariness, with fear. The Hero of Darkness had ensured that. Kratos, once one of his fiercest skeptics, could now only bow his head in deference. Megara followed suit, as did the others. The change was undeniable. And then there was his presence¡ªhis sheer, overwhelming presence. Since returning from his secret journey, Nathan had emerged with an aura unlike anything they had ever witnessed. He exuded raw, unfathomable strength, a power so immense that it sent shivers down their spines. The last time Kratos had encountered such an overwhelming force... was in the presence of the previous Demon King. The meeting room held not only familiar faces but also new ones¡ªamong them, two former queens from distant lands. Helen of Sparta sat gracefully, her posture regal yet relaxed. Beside her, her sister Clytemnestra, once the Queen of Mycenae, regarded the room with sharp, calculating eyes. Both women had become integral members of Tenebria''s inner circle, their keen minds proving invaluable in matters of governance and economic strategy. Azariah had personally granted them these roles after recognizing their talents in handling the kingdom''s economy. They were brilliant, shrewd, and most importantly, Nathan trusted them. That alone was enough for Azariah to place her faith in them as well. "You certainly took your time, Lord Commander," Clytemnestra remarked, her voice carrying a hint of suspicion. Nathan, ever shameless, smirked. "I was discussing important matters with the Queen." Helen sighed, an exasperated but knowing smile playing on her lips. Everyone in the room understood what those "important matters" entailed. None were naive enough to believe otherwise. The relationship between their Lord Commander and Queen Azariah was well known, but truthfully, no one minded. If there was any man deserving of the queen, it was certainly Nathan¡ªa man who, in their eyes, had transcended humanity itself. "Important matters, hmm?" Clytemnestra narrowed her eyes slightly, her irritation evident. Helen glanced at her sister and shook her head with a quiet sigh. It wasn''t difficult to understand Clytemnestra''s feelings toward Nathan at this point. But she was reluctant to admit them, and Nathan¡ªwell, Nathan was in no hurry. He found it far more amusing to simply wait, watching her struggle with emotions she refused to acknowledge. Another woman in the room who wasn''t particularly thrilled by the exchange was Megara. Her gaze flickered from one woman to the next, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Why is it that every woman around me either wants to sleep with him or already is?" she inwardly fumed. It was baffling. Even the stoic and enigmatic Semiramis had succumbed to whatever spell Nathan seemed to cast over women. Megara begrudgingly admitted that there was something undeniably magnetic about him. His presence alone was intoxicating. And ever since his return, it had only grown stronger. Of course, nobody knew that Aphrodite''s Divine-Rank Skill had been bestowed upon him, a power that acted more like a passive ability, amplifying his natural charm to an almost unbearable degree. Nathan kept it restrained, but even in its subdued form, it was enough to send the hearts and heads of countless women spinning. Chapter 338: Meeting at Tenebria (2) "Let''s focus on the meeting," Kratos said, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him as he brought everyone''s attention back to the true purpose of their gathering. Despite his commanding tone, there was no denying that he felt out of place¡ªsurrounded by women who, rather than discussing war, were engaged in an unspoken battle of their own. Their gazes flickered toward Nathan, some filled with admiration, others laced with jealousy and quiet rivalry. It was an almost suffocating air of competition, one Kratos had no interest in being a part of. At his words, the murmurs ceased, and all present nodded in agreement. "First," Kratos continued, his piercing gaze sweeping across the room, "we have received confirmation that the Heroes of the Empire of Light have indeed made contact with the Heroes of the Empire of Ra. Not only have they met, but they also visited their lands. It is highly likely that an alliance has been formed between them." Silence followed his words, heavy with the weight of what this meant. "The Empire of Light..." Kragen exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "They truly don''t know when to give up, do they?" "They''re obsessed," Megara added, crossing her arms. "At this point, it''s more than just a war¡ªthey see our very existence as an affront to them." Of all the nations that harbored resentment toward Tenebria, the Empire of Light was, without a doubt, the most relentless. Their hatred was not merely political or strategic; it was deeply personal. For centuries, they had clung to the notion of eradicating Tenebria from existence, convinced that their so-called ''righteous cause'' was the will of the gods. "It can''t be helped," Cadell said with a smirk, a knowing glint in his eyes. "The Lord Commander''s presence only fuels their paranoia." A low murmur of agreement passed through the gathered warriors. That much was undeniable. The Empire of Light had always regarded Tenebria as a looming threat, fearing that the Demon King''s forces were simply biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But then Nathan had appeared. His existence alone had shaken the foundations of their beliefs, turning their wariness into full-blown fear. Now, their desperation had reached new heights. "They will likely be ready to launch a full-scale attack by next year," Clytemnestra stated, her tone even yet carrying an undeniable weight of certainty. "And this time, it won''t be a reckless assault. They will come prepared¡ªwith an army vast enough to shake the continent." She leaned forward slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming under the dim candlelight. "The Empire of Ra is known to possess one of the most formidable military forces in the world. If they''ve joined hands with the Empire of Light, we must prepare for the worst." Nathan furrowed his brows. "I thought the Empire of Ra was maintaining a neutral stance in the war against Tenebria," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity. "They were," Helen replied, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the wooden table. "Under their previous ruler, Pharaoh Amenhotep, they remained cautious, unwilling to involve themselves in conflicts that did not directly concern them. But he is dead now." A hush fell over the room. "His eldest son has taken the throne," she continued. "A boy of barely fourteen." Nathan''s expression darkened. "A child?" "Yes, and a child who has little understanding of war," Helen mused. "But that does not mean he is defenseless. He is surrounded by advisors¡ªpowerful, intelligent figures who guide his every decision. That is why this alliance is so troubling. Someone must have convinced them that siding with the Empire of Light is in their best interest." Her voice took on a thoughtful edge. "The question is... what was promised to them in return?" A heavy silence settled over the gathering. Despite their vast intelligence network, they had no clear understanding of how the Empire of Light had managed to convince the Empire of Ra to join their cause. Ra had always maintained a careful neutrality in continental conflicts, preferring to guard their own interests rather than be drawn into a war that did not concern them. And yet, somehow, they had aligned themselves with the one nation most determined to see Tenebria''s destruction. It was a troubling development, one that raised more questions than answers. "Then why don''t we do the same?" Kragen spoke up, his voice carrying an air of defiance. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "If they''re gathering allies, then we should respond in kind. Let''s mirror their strategy and start securing alliances of our own." "There is some truth in that," Megara admitted. "We''ve already taken steps in that direction. Kastoria has recently become an official ally of Tenebria. We''ve even established trade agreements with them, which is a promising start." She paused before continuing, casting a pointed glance at Nathan. "But our strongest ally, without question, is the Trojan Empire." Nathan met her gaze with calm indifference, already aware of where this conversation was leading. "Kassandra promised to discuss the matter," he said, his tone even. "But I''m not going to demand too much from them." His statement carried weight. The alliance between Troy and Tenebria was no secret; in fact, it had been cemented in the most public way possible. The world had watched as Nathan, the Lord Commander of Tenebria, wed Kassandra, the Princess of Troy, mere months ago. The marriage had sent shockwaves throughout the continent, signaling to all nations that Troy was standing firmly by Tenebria''s side. By all rights, Kassandra should have been in Tenebria with Nathan now, but she was dividing her time between Troy and Tenebria for a crucial reason¡ªone that Nathan himself had insisted upon. She was carrying his child. For now, she remained in Troy, as Nathan had personally requested. Though she had promised to advocate for Tenebria, Nathan did not expect more from them. The Trojan War had left their kingdom battered and exhausted. They needed time to heal, not another call to arms. "I''ve already sent word to Hector," Nathan added, his voice steady. "I told him that it isn''t necessary. Troy has suffered enough¡ªphysically, mentally. We can''t expect them to raise an army for us so soon. When the time comes, we''ll see what support they can offer, but for now, they need to focus on their own recovery." Megara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Then we won''t rely on Troy. But let''s be realistic here. Tenebria cannot fight this war alone. The Empire of Light already possesses a larger army than both Tenebria and Kastoria combined. If they truly have the Empire of Ra on their side, it''s even worse. They''ll surround us, cut off our resources, and grind us down until there''s nothing left." A grim silence settled over the room as the weight of her words sank in. "What about the other kingdoms that have remained neutral so far?" Nathan asked, turning toward Clytemnestra. His mind was already working through the possibilities. "Are any of them potential allies?" Clytemnestra took a moment to consider before responding. "Babylonia?" she said with a scoff. "They don''t even acknowledge demons as worthy adversaries, let alone consider an alliance with us." "Then Eldorath?" Nathan pressed. Kratos answered this time, his tone flat. "They don''t care for demons either. If anything, they look down on us just as much as the Empire of Light does." He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Those two are the closest and strongest options available. But if we''re willing to cast a wider net, we may need to look beyond this continent." Nathan narrowed his eyes. "You mean seek alliances overseas?" Kratos nodded. "There are other kingdoms, smaller ones, that might be persuaded to join us. However, if we want true power¡ªarmies that can stand against the Empire of Light and the Empire of Ra¡ªwe will have to look farther. The great empires of the western continent, the island nations beyond the Celestial Sea... there are forces out there, but whether they''ll involve themselves in this war is another matter entirely." Nathan sat back in thought. The war was no longer a distant threat¡ªit was coming. And unless they acted now, they might not be ready to meet it when it arrived. Helen''s voice cut through the tense silence. "What should we do then?" she asked, her gaze shifting toward Nathan. As if on cue, the entire room followed her lead. All eyes landed on Nathan, waiting for his response. He was the one with the highest authority here¡ªthe one whose decisions carried the most weight. Yet, Nathan did not answer immediately. Instead, he remained silent, his expression unreadable as he tapped a finger against the polished wooden table. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his features. Then, finally, he spoke. "What was the other problem?" he asked abruptly, completely changing the subject. Kratos blinked in confusion. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, unsure if Nathan had misunderstood the gravity of the situation. "Lord Commander¡ª" he began, but before he could finish, Nathan cast him a pointed look. It was subtle but firm, a silent command that said: Hurry up and report. Kratos swallowed his initial protest and obeyed. "Breistan," he said, his voice regaining its composure. "A great city to the east. A few days ago, it came under attack." He paused for a moment before adding, "By a single person." Nathan barely reacted. He rested his chin on his hand, fingers drumming idly against the table. "And?" Kratos exhaled. "The attacker was Human." That earned a slight raise of Nathan''s brow, though more out of mild curiosity than concern. "Which kingdom?" he asked, already sounding bored. He had been expecting something more¡ªsomething interesting. Kratos, however, shook his head. "We don''t know." That made Nathan pause. His fingers stopped their rhythmic tapping as he slowly turned his full attention to Kratos. "We don''t know?" he echoed, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you telling me a Human launched an attack on one of the largest cities in the east, and yet no one can trace where they came from?" Kratos''s expression was grim. He held Nathan''s gaze before answering. "By the way," he said, his voice carefully measured, "he called himself a Hero of the Empire of Light." Nathan''s eyes narrowed slightly. Kratos continued. "He also claimed to be part of the Second Batch of Summoning." Chapter 339: Medeas jealousy "By the way," he said, his voice carefully measured, "he called himself a Hero of the Empire of Light." Nathan''s eyes narrowed slightly. Kratos continued. "He also claimed to be part of the Second Batch of Summoning." As soon as the words left Kratos''s lips, Nathan rose to his feet without hesitation. His movements were swift, purposeful¡ªthere was no need for deliberation. "Lord Commander?" Semiramis''s voice carried a note of confusion as she turned to face him, her golden eyes searching his for answers. "I''m leaving immediately," Nathan declared, already heading for the door. Semiramis''s expression hardened. "Should I prepare an escort? A contingent of soldiers, at least?" Nathan shook his head dismissively. "No need. You all stay here. I''m only going to investigate." Her brows furrowed. "But it could be dangerous..." she murmured, reluctance evident in her voice. A fleeting smirk touched Nathan''s lips. "I won''t be alone. Don''t worry." Without another word, he strode down the hall, his presence commanding as he made his way toward the castle''s grand balcony. The morning sky stretched before him. Then, without hesitation, he leaped onto the sloped rooftops, his form moving with effortless grace. There was no need for preparation. No need for delay. His instincts screamed at him to go now. A Hero of the Empire of Light. Yet Kratos had spoken of a Second Batch of Summonings. That detail gnawed at Nathan''s mind. Khione had told him that he and the others were part of the third batch. The first and second batches had been wiped out¡ªeither slaughtered or vanished without a trace. Those who disappeared were never found. That was the key difference. And yet¡ªsuddenly¡ªone of them had reappeared. And not just anywhere. In the Demon Kingdom. Why? Had he been captured? Was he a prisoner? Or had he come of his own volition? Was he alone? A storm of unanswered questions brewed in Nathan''s mind, each one demanding an answer. His curiosity burned hotter than ever. Standing atop the roof, Nathan''s white hair gleamed under the moonlight as he turned his gaze to the horizon. Then, with a single word, he summoned his most trusted beast. "Drakkias." A mighty roar split the night air. From the distant sky, a vast shadow surged forth, its golden scales shimmering like molten sunlight. The force of its wings sent powerful gusts of wind swirling through the castle grounds below. Drakkias descended in a blur of golden light, landing with a thunderous impact upon the rooftop, its talons gripping the stone with ease. The dragon''s piercing eyes met Nathan''s, awaiting his command. Nathan wasted no time. He vaulted onto Drakkias''s back, the massive beast shifting slightly beneath his weight. But before taking flight, he spoke another name. "Scylla." For a brief moment, silence reigned. Then, in the blink of an eye, she appeared. A blur of movement¡ªa flicker of shadow¡ªand then a woman landed gracefully beside him, her every motion fluid, predatory. "You called for me, Nate~~" Her voice was honeyed, laced with teasing warmth. Scylla was a vision of dangerous beauty. Her long, silken sea green hair cascaded past her shoulders, swaying gently with the breeze. Her eyes¡ªslit-red, piercing, and inhumanly intense¡ªheld a glint of hunger, a gaze that threatened to consume him whole. Two sharp, obsidian-black horns jutted elegantly from the sides of her head, a mark of her infernal heritage. Compared to Medea and Charybdis, Scylla''s allure was different. Where Medea''s charm was darkly enigmatic and Charybdis''s presence exuded unshakable calm dominance, Scylla''s beauty was something else entirely¡ªa seduction wrapped in lethal grace. And then there was her hunger. For him. Nathan could feel it, see it in the way she looked at him¡ªlike a predator who had spent months resisting the urge to sink her teeth into its prey. She had learned to control herself, to restrain that bottomless thirst. But even now, even as she stood still beside him, he could sense the unspoken desire simmering beneath her composed exterior. Nathan''s gaze, however, drifted beyond Scylla, his sharp eyes locking onto two unseen figures lurking in the shadows. To any ordinary observer, there would appear to be nothing but empty space behind Scylla. However, Nathan was no ordinary observer. His Eye of Odin and Vision of Artemis allowed him to perceive even the most intricate and advanced illusions, piercing through layers of magic with ease. Even spells woven by Medea herself¡ªa woman hailed as one of the greatest sorceresses in existence¡ªwere nothing but fragile veils before his sight. And right now, he saw them. Two women stood concealed in the darkness, hidden behind spells so formidable that even the most seasoned mages would never suspect their presence. A moment of silence passed. Then, as if realizing that her deception had been uncovered, Medea let out a soft, displeased sigh and canceled her magic. The illusion shattered. Medea emerged first, stepping into the moonlight with a faint scowl. Her heterochromic red and green eyes, cold and piercing, held a hint of annoyance. Beside her, Charybdis followed suit, arms crossed over her chest, her golden locks cascading over her shoulders in waves. Both women stood there, their gazes fixed upon him. Medea''s expression was particularly sharp, her displeasure evident as she spoke. "Why didn''t you call us too?" she asked, her tone devoid of warmth. Nathan met her gaze, unfazed. "Because I only needed one of you." Medea''s eyes narrowed. "Then why not me? Or Charybdis? Why is it always her?" Her words carried an unmistakable bite as she tilted her chin toward Scylla. A smirk curled at Scylla''s lips. "Again with the jealousy, Medea?" she mused, tilting her head to the side in amusement. Medea''s hands clenched into tight fists. A cold, ominous pressure filled the air. Dark mana swirled violently around her, crackling with barely restrained power. The sheer magnitude of her presence was suffocating, the night around them seemingly growing darker in response. Even Drakkias, a beast of legendary might, trembled slightly, its wings flaring in unease. Nathan sighed. "Medea." His voice, firm yet calm, cut through the tension like a blade. Medea flinched, her anger momentarily tempered as her eyes flickered toward him. "I need you here," Nathan said simply. "You are the greatest sorceress I know. If any kind of problem arises, you''ll be the one who can handle it best." His words carried weight¡ªnot just as a leader, but as someone who genuinely trusted her above all others when it came to magic. Medea''s dark aura wavered slightly. He meant what he said. Nathan didn''t trust easily, but when he did, it was absolute. Medea was unparalleled in large-scale magic, and in unpredictable situations, she was the most reliable person to have on his side. More than that, if something¡ªor someone¡ªattempted to infiltrate the castle, even if betrayal lurked within their own ranks, Medea would ensure that no harm befell any of his women. She would protect them all. Medea stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, her fists relaxed, the oppressive mana around her dissipating like mist. "Understood," she said at last. Though she feigned reluctance, there was a flicker of something else in her gaze¡ªsatisfaction. Nathan had acknowledged her importance. He saw her. And that alone was enough. Before the tension could fully settle, another voice chimed in, hopeful yet hesitant. "What about me?" Nathan turned to Charybdis, who looked at him expectantly. "Can I come?" Her voice was light, but there was genuine eagerness behind it. Unlike Medea, who masked her emotions beneath layers of cold composure, Charybdis wore hers plainly. Nathan, however, shook his head. "Stay with Medea." A flicker of disappointment crossed her features, but Nathan''s next words carried a deeper implication. "Keep an eye on her." Charybdis blinked before realization dawned on her. If he left Scylla behind, the infighting would only escalate. Medea and Scylla were the absolute worst at maintaining their composure when it came to him. Left unchecked, things could spiral out of control far too quickly. By having Charybdis stay, Nathan ensured that Medea wouldn''t take things too far. Charybdis let out a small sigh but nodded. "Alright, I get it," she muttered, crossing her arms. Though she wasn''t entirely happy about it, she understood. Nathan gave her a small nod in return before turning back toward Drakkias. The night was wasting away. It was time to move. With a final glance at the castle below, Nathan and Scylla took to the skies, leaving the others behind as they disappeared into the sky. As Nathan and Scylla ascended into the night sky, Scylla waved playfully at Medea and Charybdis below. Her gesture, at first glance, seemed teasing¡ªperhaps even a touch smug¡ªbut beneath the surface, there was no real malice. Despite the rivalry, the jealousy, and the constant bickering over Nathan''s attention, the three women shared an unbreakable bond. They had long since passed the point of being mere allies or even friends. They were family. Medea, the eldest, and without doubts the most dangerous and uncontrollable. Scylla, the second, was bold and reckless, indulging in her whims and pushing boundaries with little concern for consequence. She had an innate ability to both irritate and charm in equal measure. And then there was Charybdis, the youngest, often treated as such. Though she was powerful in her own right, her occasional hesitance and softer disposition made the other two naturally more protective of her. She was the only one never to rarely speaking against Nathan''s orders, obeying him. Three Sisters¡ªnot by blood, but by twisted love for Nathan. Medea scoffed at Scylla''s playful wave but didn''t turn away until Nathan and Scylla had fully disappeared into the night. Charybdis, standing beside her also looked at them. Up above, the wind howled as Drakkias soared forward, cutting through the darkness with immense speed. Wrapped in the cold night air, Scylla leaned in close, her breath warm against Nathan''s ear. "Where are we going, Nathan?" she purred, her voice low and sensuous, her arms slipping around his waist in a slow, lingering embrace. Nathan''s smirk deepened. "Breistan. To hunt a Hero." Chapter 340: Breistan Breistan was one of the oldest and most significant cities in the Demon Kingdom, steeped in history and battle-hardened traditions. It stood as a testament to the resilience and power of the Demonic race, its foundations laid by warriors who once clashed in bloody struggles for dominance. The origins of the Demon Kingdom could be traced back over three thousand years, to an era when numerous demon clans waged relentless war against each other, each vying for supremacy in a world where only the strong could carve their legacy. Among these fierce factions, one of the most powerful emerged victorious, claiming the land that would one day become Breistan. Their chieftain, a warrior of unparalleled skill and cunning, had fought countless battles before ultimately pledging allegiance to a man who would later rise as the first Demon King. This decision shaped the course of history, uniting the scattered and warring Demon tribes under a single banner. In the present day, the lineage of that ancient warrior still endured through Duke Nakon Breistan, the current ruler of the city and a loyal vassal of the Demon Kingdom. He had served faithfully under the previous Demon King, bound by duty and respect, though not without reservations. Unlike his former sovereign, Duke Nakon had never fully agreed with the relentless expansionist ambitions that had driven the Demon King into endless wars against the other kingdoms. Greed and conquest, he believed, could lead to the kingdom''s downfall. Yet, despite his doubts, he had no choice but to fight alongside his king, if only to ensure the survival of his people and the protection of Tenebria. Fate, however, had taken an unexpected turn. The Demon King had since relinquished his throne, passing it down to his daughter, Queen Azariah. Unlike her father, the young queen was level-headed and pragmatic, choosing diplomacy where war had once been the only answer. Duke Nakon regarded her with a cautious optimism, hoping that under her rule, the Demon Kingdom would find stability rather than endless bloodshed. Now, he sat in his grand hall, his thoughts heavy as he reclined in his throne-like chair. The flickering torchlight cast deep shadows across the cold stone walls, the banners of his house swaying gently in the draft that swept through the chamber. He had much to ponder¡ªmore than he cared for. A few days prior, an event had shattered the peace that Breistan had enjoyed for years following the war''s end. A single man had arrived at their gates, proclaiming himself a chosen Hero of God. His demand had been nothing short of audacious¡ªhe commanded that the entire city surrender to him. The arrogance of his words had left Nakon in stunned disbelief, swiftly followed by irritation. The sheer audacity to expect them to yield without resistance was nothing short of lunacy. Naturally, Nakon had refused outright, his answer as firm as steel. The only Hero to whom the Demons of Breistan would ever bow was their Lord Commander, Samael¡ªthe Hero of Darkness. He alone had earned their unwavering respect through deeds of unparalleled strength and valor. To them, the so-called ''Heroes of God'' were nothing more than self-righteous zealots who had no understanding of their struggles. Their loyalty lay with Samael, and with him alone. But the self-proclaimed Hero had not taken the rejection kindly. To everyone''s shock, he had launched an attack on the city by himself, without an army, without allies¡ªjust one man against an entire city. Nakon had immediately dispatched his finest warriors to crush the insolent fool, but what followed was beyond anything he had anticipated. The Hero fought with terrifying power, cutting through his forces with unnatural ease. He wielded strength that could not be denied, defying all expectations. At first, Nakon had dismissed his claims as mere bluster, but after witnessing his capabilities firsthand, he could no longer deny the truth. This man was indeed a Hero. Breistan had learned the cost of defiance through a heavy and bitter price. More than two hundred of their finest soldiers had perished in the battle, their lives sacrificed to keep the self-proclaimed Hero at bay. Though they had managed to hold their ground and prevent him from completely overtaking the city, the damage he had inflicted was undeniable. The once-impenetrable walls of Breistan now bore gaping wounds, shattered by the sheer force of his attacks. But the Hero was not invincible. Despite his overwhelming strength, he had been forced to retreat. He needed time to recover, to replenish his strength. More importantly, he had sustained an injury to his arm¡ªproof that he was not beyond harm. And yet, Duke Nakon Breistan found little comfort in this temporary reprieve. If anything, it filled him with dread. The Hero would return; of that, he was certain. Perhaps he would come back with an improved strategy, or worse, with reinforcements. If the first battle had cost them dearly, how much more would the next one demand? More than anything, Nakon needed to understand. Why was this so-called Hero attacking them? What was his true purpose? Why did he want Breistan? Unwilling to wait for answers to come at the edge of a blade, Nakon acted swiftly. He immediately sent a messenger bird to the capital of Tenebria, detailing everything that had transpired¡ªthe Hero''s arrival, his impossible strength, the battle, and the destruction left in his wake. He urged them to respond, whether by sending reinforcements or someone capable of dealing with this powerful foe. But deep down, Nakon knew that mere words might not be enough. He doubted the capital would take his warnings at face value. It was far too easy to dismiss his claims as exaggerations or paranoia. Perhaps they would believe the city had been attacked by a formidable warrior, but to accept that he was a Hero? That was another matter entirely. There was always the possibility that this was nothing more than an exceptionally strong individual toying with them. That was why Nakon had made sure to include one crucial detail in his message¡ªa reminder that the second princess of Tenebria, Queen Azariah''s younger sister, Princess Ameriah, was currently in Breistan. It was a calculated move. If there was even the slightest chance that a member of the royal family was in danger, the capital would have no choice but to take the matter seriously. Surely, they would not risk the princess falling into enemy hands. That alone should be enough to ensure that powerful warriors were sent immediately. At least, that was what Nakon hoped. Now, in his private meeting chamber, the weight of responsibility bore down on him like an iron shroud. He sat at the head of a long table, his fingers pressing against his temple as he struggled to suppress his growing unease. The flickering candlelight cast restless shadows upon the stone walls, mirroring the turmoil within him. "Still no news from the capital?" he asked, his voice tense with impatience. His advisor, a stern-faced demon standing beside him, shook his head. "No, my lord. But I am certain they have received the message by now. They must be preparing their response," the advisor replied calmly. Nakon let out a slow, weary sigh. "Will we still be safe by then?" The question hung in the air, heavy with doubt. It had already been days since the battle. That Hero shouldn''t have needed this long to recover. Unless... he was preparing something. A new plan. A new assault. And if that were the case, Breistan might not survive the next attack. To his people, it seemed as though Duke Nakon was overreacting. But deep within him, his instincts screamed that something was amiss. This was still a Hero they were dealing with. No matter how much his soldiers dismissed the threat, Nakon knew better than to underestimate someone bearing that title¡ªespecially one who claimed to be from the second batch. Even though the first wave of Heroes had ultimately failed to kill the Demon King, they had dealt catastrophic damage to the Demon Kingdom''s forces. They had fought in the battles that led even the Demon King himself to retreat. The devastation they wrought had not been forgotten. Nakon was certain that all of those Heroes had perished. And yet... decades later, one of them suddenly appeared? Something was about to happen. He could feel it. Just as that chilling thought crossed his mind, a sudden tremor shook his throne chair. The vibrations were faint at first, but then the glass windows rattled violently. The very ground beneath them trembled as loose dirt and dust rose into the air. A hushed panic spread through the room as the gathered nobles exchanged confused, alarmed glances before rushing toward the windows. Nakon stood abruptly, his pulse hammering in his chest. Was it happening already? Had that Hero returned, this time with something powerful enough to bring Breistan to its knees? He hurried toward the window, his breath catching in his throat. But what he saw in the sky was nothing he could have anticipated. A massive shadow loomed over the city, its colossal form blotting out the sunlight. Nakon''s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He had only caught a glimpse of it, but he would have been a fool not to recognize what it was. A dragon. His blood ran cold. Without a moment''s hesitation, he bolted from the chamber, his knights and guards scrambling to follow. They barely kept pace as he rushed through the castle halls, his mind racing with possibilities. Who had come? Why was there a dragon over his city? As soon as he reached the castle''s stables, he mounted a horse and rode through the streets, his cloak billowing behind him. The people of Breistan had already taken notice of the golden dragon soaring overhead. Some stood frozen in awe, their mouths agape, while others fled, fear gripping their hearts. It was several agonizing minutes before Nakon reached the city''s entrance, where the dragon had begun to descend. Its massive body coiled as it poised itself near the gates, its towering form so enormous that even from beyond the walls, its head remained visible¡ªcasting an ominous shadow over the terrified onlookers. Nakon''s horse skidded to a stop as his eyes fell upon two figures standing at the city''s entrance. One of them had stark white hair. Recognition struck him instantly, and despite the unease churning within him, a nervous, wide smile stretched across Duke Nakon Breistan''s lips. He knew exactly who had arrived. Chapter 341: Auria Breistan Ameriah Tenebria, the youngest princess of the Demon Kingdom, had lived a life of fragility and solitude. From the moment of her birth, she had been plagued by weak health, her body delicate and prone to frequent illnesses. The healers had done their best, yet no magic nor remedy could truly cure her condition. She had never known the warmth of a mother''s embrace, nor had she ever felt the presence of a father''s guiding hand. In the grand halls of the Tenebrian palace, where power and ambition thrived, Ameriah had only one true source of comfort¡ªher elder sister, Azariah. It was Azariah who had cradled her through the worst nights, whispering soothing words when sickness overtook her. It was Azariah who spun fantastical stories by candlelight, filling Ameriah''s world with adventure and wonder even as she remained confined within the palace walls. No matter how busy she was, Azariah never failed to be there in Ameriah''s weakest moments, reassuring her with a gentle smile and a soft touch on her forehead. Ameriah did not remember much of the war that had ravaged their lands. She had been too young, too sheltered, too sickly to witness the battles firsthand. But she remembered the aftermath¡ªthe heavy silence that loomed over the kingdom like an eternal dusk, the hollow gazes of the people, the sorrow that seeped into the very bones of Tenebria. The sight of ruined homes, grieving families, and orphaned children weighed heavily on her heart. Even as a princess, she could not ignore the pain of her people. Azariah, as the ruler of Tenebria, had been consumed by the endless duties of reconstruction. Meetings with nobles, strategic decisions, alliances¡ªall of it kept her occupied. And so, Ameriah was left alone in the vast palace more often than not. On rare occasions, high-ranking nobles from across the Demon Kingdom would visit the capital, seeking an audience with Azariah. Sometimes, they would bring their children along. It was during one such visit that Ameriah''s world changed. Duke Nakon Breistan, a powerful noble with lands far to the west, had arrived at the capital for political discussions. With him came his daughter, Auria Breistan¡ªa girl around Ameriah''s age. The moment they met, Ameriah felt something shift within her. Auria was unlike anyone she had ever known. Unlike the palace servants who tiptoed around her illness or the nobles who treated her with delicate formality, Auria was different. She was warm, full of energy, and unafraid to speak her mind. She never treated Ameriah like a fragile doll, nor did she pity her. Instead, she engaged her in lively conversations, finding amusement in the simplest things, always bringing laughter where there had been silence. Auria made Ameriah feel normal¡ªsomething she had never experienced before. It didn''t take long for their bond to deepen, and before she knew it, Ameriah had found in Auria the closest thing to a best friend. But their time together was fleeting. Auria was the daughter of a duke, and her life was filled with obligations. Education, training, political engagements¡ªshe was being groomed for a future that demanded responsibility. Because of this, her visits to the capital were rare. Still, Ameriah was not willing to let go of their friendship so easily. Whenever Auria could not come to Tenebria, Ameriah would beg Azariah to let her visit Breistan instead. It was a rare occurrence, given her fragile health and the dangers of travel, but with enough pleading¡ªsometimes tearfully¡ªAzariah would relent. Two days ago, after much insistence, Ameriah had finally been granted permission to visit Breistan once more. She had been overjoyed at the prospect of spending time with Auria, free from the lonely walls of the palace. But fate had other plans. What was meant to be a joyful visit had turned into something far more terrifying. A threat had emerged¡ªone neither of them had anticipated. Though neither she nor Auria had been physically harmed, the sheer terror of what they had faced had shaken them both to their core. A Hero had appeared. The realization of it sent chills down Ameriah''s spine. Heroes¡ªbeings summoned by the gods themselves¡ªwere enemies of the Demon Kingdom, a force of destruction upon their people. Duke Nakon, taking no chances, had immediately placed them both under strict protection. The doors of the Breistan castle were shut to the outside world, and neither she nor Auria were allowed to step beyond its walls. It was a precautionary measure, but it felt like a prison. Since that terrifying encounter, Ameriah had been confined to Auria''s room, their every movement watched over by vigilant guards. The heavy presence of armored warriors stationed outside their door served as a grim reminder of the lurking danger beyond the castle''s walls. Ameriah sat by the window, her fingers lightly tracing the cool glass as she gazed at the shadowed landscape beyond. She still couldn''t believe it. A Hero had appeared¡ªa true, summoned Hero. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. "I can''t believe a Hero appeared..." she murmured, her voice tinged with unease. This was not something she had ever expected. Heroes belonged to stories, to history, to distant battlefields where legends were forged. Yet now, one had materialized within Breistan''s borders, turning what was supposed to be a peaceful visit into a nightmare. A voice, soft yet firm, pulled her from her thoughts. "I don''t believe he should be called that," Auria said, her tone laced with quiet indignation. Ameriah turned to face her friend, her crimson eyes meeting Auria''s unwavering gaze. Auria was a striking girl, her features delicate yet refined with an elegance befitting her noble lineage. Though she was slightly younger than Ameriah, she carried herself with a maturity beyond her years. Her light blonde hair, a cascade of soft curls, was elegantly tied back, accentuating the sharp brilliance of her red eyes. Despite her composed demeanor, there was a fire within them¡ªa fire that flickered with both intelligence and defiance. "Auria?" Ameriah''s brows furrowed slightly as she studied her friend''s expression. Auria leaned back against the cushions of her bed, her lips curling into a faint smile¡ªone that did not quite reach her eyes. "He attacked us without warning, Ameriah. Without reason. People died because of him," Auria said, her voice steady but firm. "Does that sound like something a Hero would do?" Ameriah hesitated for a moment before lowering her gaze. The weight of Auria''s words settled heavily upon her. The title of ''Hero'' was meant to symbolize righteousness, to be a beacon of hope. But this man¡ªwhoever he was¡ªhad brought nothing but fear and destruction. "You might be right, Auria," Ameriah admitted with a soft sigh. But then, as if a brighter thought had suddenly graced her mind, a warm smile spread across her lips. "A Hero is most likely someone like Samael," she added, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. At the mere mention of his name, Auria''s expression lit up with excitement. "The Hero of Darkness..." she breathed, her red eyes shimmering with admiration. Auria had never had the fortune of meeting him in person. Only her father, Duke Nakon, had spoken to him, and she had been more than a little jealous of that fact. Since his emergence, Samael''s name had been whispered in every corner of Tenebria. His legend had grown so immense that even those in the highest ranks of nobility revered him with a respect that rivaled the Demon King himself. He was no mere warrior. He was a force of nature¡ªan anomaly that had single-handedly shifted the tides of war. Samael had done what no demon had ever managed before: he had driven back Kastoria''s forces alone, forcing them into an uneasy alliance with Tenebria. His presence alone had reshaped the balance of power, ensuring that their kingdom no longer stood as a vulnerable target for the neighboring human realms. For years, after the Demon King''s retreat, Tenebria had been plagued by relentless invasions, its borders constantly tested by opportunistic kingdoms. But now? Now, there was a fear that hung over those same nations¡ªa fear so great that large-scale invasions had all but ceased. And it was all because of him. Because of Samael. Of course, there were still skirmishes, small conflicts that could not be avoided, but gone were the days of catastrophic wars that threatened to tear Tenebria apart. The other kingdoms no longer dared. Not when the Hero of Darkness stood between them and their ambitions. Ameriah''s smile softened, her fingers resting against her warm cheeks as she thought of him. He was what a true Hero was meant to be. Auria''s excitement was palpable, her usual composure slipping away entirely. Her red eyes sparkled as she leaned forward eagerly, abandoning any attempt at maintaining her mature facade. "Can you tell me about Lord Samael, Princess?" she asked, her voice filled with unmistakable anticipation. Gone was the poised and dignified noble daughter¡ªnow, she looked like nothing more than an infatuated girl, utterly captivated by the mere thought of Tenebria''s greatest warrior. Ameriah blinked in disbelief. "Again?" she asked, utterly dumbfounded. This was far from the first time Auria had brought up Samael, and by now, Ameriah had lost count of how many times she had answered these same questions. "I think I''ve already said quite a lot, Auria," Ameriah said with a soft laugh, shaking her head. Auria let out a deep sigh, slumping dramatically onto her bed. Her blonde curls cascaded over the pillows as she gazed wistfully at the ceiling. "Right... I suppose you have," she admitted with a hint of disappointment before pouting slightly. "But how I wish I could meet him..." Before Ameriah could respond, a sudden tremor rattled the windows, causing both girls to flinch. The glass panes shuddered violently as if struck by a powerful force. Auria''s body tensed. She immediately bolted toward the window, gripping the wooden frame tightly as her eyes widened in shock. Outside, soaring above the city with an awe-inspiring presence, was a massive golden dragon. Its majestic form cast an immense shadow over Breistan, its shimmering scales gleaming like molten gold under the light. The beast''s enormous wings spread wide, stirring the air with each mighty beat, sending gusts of wind rushing through the streets below. Its reptilian eyes, deep and ancient, scanned the city with an unreadable gaze. Auria felt the blood drain from her face. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as a horrifying thought struck her. "The Hero. Is he attacking?!" Her instincts screamed at her to act. "We have to¡ª!" But before she could finish, she turned around¡ªonly to see Ameriah standing there, her crimson eyes wide, her expression not one of fear... but of pure delight. A bright, almost childlike smile lit up the princess''s face as she clasped her hands together. "It''s Samael!" she exclaimed joyfully. Chapter 342: Nathan arrives to Breistan (1) Nakon dismounted his horse with urgency, his boots landing firmly against the dirt-packed ground. His breath hitched for a moment as his gaze settled upon the figure standing before him. Recognition struck instantly¡ªthis was Nathan. He had met him twice before during his visits to the capital, yet the sheer presence emanating from the man before him now felt vastly different. It was almost inconceivable. Why had they sent him? The Lord Commander himself? This was far beyond a mere response to their plea for aid¡ªit was an overwhelming show of force, almost excessive. It wasn''t just a high-ranking officer leading a campaign; it was the legend himself. The soldiers behind Nakon were just as dumbfounded, their stunned expressions mirroring his own. They had all heard the rumors¡ªthe tales of the Lord Commander who had supposedly tamed a dragon, the stories that painted him as something greater than human, something bordering on the divine. Most had dismissed them as nothing more than exaggerated myths, fabrications designed to elevate their already legendary hero into an even greater figure. But now, standing before their very eyes, was a sight that no mere words could have prepared them for. A dragon¡ªa true dragon¡ªstood there in resplendent majesty. Its golden scales shimmered under the sun''s waning light, each one glinting like molten metal, its powerful wings partially unfurled as if the very air around it bowed to its presence. And upon the creature''s back stood a man who, at first glance, hardly seemed human at all. Nathan''s long white hair fluttered gently in the wind, strands of silver-like silk catching the sunlight. His golden eyes¡ªpiercing and intense, with vertical slits carved into their irises¡ªradiated an eerie, almost predatory brilliance that sent an involuntary chill crawling down Nakon''s spine. No, not just him¡ªthe entire unit of soldiers behind him seemed to feel it too. The aura that surrounded Nathan was suffocating. It was overwhelming, an unspoken dominion that weighed down upon the very air itself. He did not look like a mere commander, nor even a hero of legend. He looked like a god who had descended upon the mortal realm. As the fortress gates groaned open, the assembled soldiers could finally see him fully. Standing beside him was a woman of unearthly beauty, her presence almost as striking as the dragon itself. She carried herself with an effortless grace, her features sculpted in a way that seemed almost unnatural¡ªbeyond mortal refinement. Nathan, without so much as a word, leapt down from the dragon''s back, landing soundlessly upon the ground. His companion followed suit, moving with the same effortless ease. As if sensing its master''s silent command, the dragon reared back and, with a powerful beat of its wings, took to the sky. The resulting gust of wind sent dust and loose debris swirling around them, forcing several soldiers to shield their eyes as they watched in awe. Nakon remained frozen for a moment, still trying to process what he had just witnessed, before instinct took over. He quickly stepped forward and dropped to one knee, lowering his head in deference. "Lord Commander." His voice rang clear despite the weight of the moment, and, as if compelled by an unspoken force, every soldier behind him followed suit. A synchronized motion of reverence, hundreds of men kneeling before the one who stood before them. It was no longer merely about rank or hierarchy. Nathan had long since proven himself, carving his name into the annals of history through sheer might and dominion. He was not just the supreme commander of Tenebria''s forces¡ªhe was the one who had instilled awe and fear into the hearts of all who stood before him. He had transcended mere leadership; he had become a force of nature, a being whose very presence commanded respect. Before them stood not just a man, but the most powerful warrior of their nation. The second most influential figure in Tenebria, surpassed only by Queen Azariah herself. And in this moment, as they knelt before him, there was only one truth they all understood. Nathan came to a halt before Nakon, his golden eyes settling on the man with an intensity that left no room for pleasantries. "I heard a Hero has appeared." His voice was calm, measured, yet it carried the weight of authority that demanded an immediate answer. Nakon straightened under that gaze, nodding firmly. "Yes, Lord Commander. Please, follow me inside. We should discuss this in private." A carriage, already prepared for them, stood waiting nearby. The soldiers around them remained motionless, tense with anticipation as Nathan moved toward the vehicle. He stepped in without hesitation, his presence alone making the enclosed space feel smaller. Scylla followed right behind him, settling beside him with her usual silent grace. Nakon climbed in after them, taking the seat across from Nathan. The moment the carriage door shut, he wasted no time in relaying the situation. "We don''t know his name," Nakon began, his voice grim. "He only gave us one demand¡ªthat we surrender control of the city to him, claiming it was his right as a Hero." Nathan''s expression didn''t change, but the air inside the carriage seemed to grow heavier. "And what was your response?" "I told him we have only one Hero, and it certainly wasn''t him," Nakon said. "He laughed¡ªmockingly¡ªbefore declaring himself a Hero of the Empire of Light. He said he alone was worth more than the entire Demon Kingdom." Nakon exhaled sharply, his irritation evident. "When I asked him what a single Hero from the Empire of Light was doing here, he became enraged. He told me not to compare him to the ''weaklings of the Third Batch'' and claimed he was from the Second Summoning¡ªsuperior, stronger, better than all of them." Nathan''s gaze sharpened. "How old did he appear to be?" Nakon furrowed his brows, thinking. "A bit older than you, Lord Commander. I couldn''t determine his exact age, but... he didn''t seem well when he arrived. His physical and mental state appeared unstable. And then¡ªwithout warning¡ªhe attacked us when we refused his demands." Nathan''s fingers tapped lightly against his knee, a thoughtful yet subtle gesture. "And then?" "We held our ground," Nakon continued. "We didn''t strike to kill, but we didn''t let him take control either. He seemed... tired. It wasn''t long before he retreated. But before he left, he made a final threat." Nakon''s face darkened, his voice lowering. "He said he''d return soon. And if we refused him again, he would slaughter every Demon in the city." The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. "It''s been three days since he made that declaration," Nakon added. "Since then, we''ve been on edge, prepared for his return at any moment." Nathan said nothing for a long moment. A Hero from the Second Summoning, appearing out of nowhere, attacking a city, and demanding it be handed over to him? It made no sense. What was he after? Why this city? And more importantly¡ªwhy now? Nathan sat in silence for a moment, piecing together the fragments of information before reaching a likely conclusion. "It''s highly probable that he fought someone¡ªor perhaps multiple opponents¡ªand lost," Nathan said, his voice steady and analytical. "He was forced to flee, wounded and vulnerable, and ended up here in Breistan by chance or necessity." He narrowed his golden eyes slightly. "The reason he demanded control over the city wasn''t out of arrogance alone¡ªit was desperation. He needed a secure place where he could recover and remain hidden from whoever was hunting him." Nakon''s eyes widened in realization. That... made sense. "It''s plausible," Nakon muttered, the logic falling into place in his mind. Nathan leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable. "He wanted to intimidate you into submission, but I don''t think it was just an empty threat. If he''s willing to go that far, he likely has some plan to force your hand." His voice dropped slightly. "He''s short on time." Nakon exhaled sharply. "So he just wants to use us as a shield against his enemies?" He sounded both incredulous and insulted. "Yes," Nathan confirmed without hesitation. "He needs you to buy him time. The Heroes have extraordinary recovery abilities, far beyond that of ordinary warriors. Given enough time, his wounds will heal, and his strength will return." His gaze darkened. "Until then, he intends to use Breistan as his stronghold. And in the meantime, you''ll be forced to deal with those hunting him¡ªwhether they want him dead or alive. Once he''s fully recovered, he''ll escape and leave you to deal with the consequences." A cold chill ran down Nakon''s spine. "Wait, Lord Commander..." Nakon hesitated, his voice now tinged with unease. "Are you saying that more enemies might come looking for him?" "It''s possible," Nathan admitted. "Maybe they haven''t found him yet, but it''s only a matter of time. However¡ª" he paused, then continued with careful emphasis, "¡ªas long as we don''t give them a reason to, they shouldn''t have any reason to attack us. They only want him." Nakon let out a breath he hadn''t realized he was holding. "Then... all we have to do is stall," he said, a small smile appearing as he saw a solution. "If we delay and let time do the work for us, someone will eventually come to reclaim him." "That would be the wisest course of action," Nathan nodded. But a nagging feeling settled in his chest, a premonition that made him uneasy. Rather than waiting passively, he wanted to question this so-called Hero himself. "Let''s discuss this further after you''ve had time to rest, Lord Commander," Nakon suggested as the carriage pulled up to the castle gates. Nathan gave a slight nod before stepping down from the carriage. But the moment his feet touched the ground¡ª "Samael!" A voice rang out, filled with excitement and urgency. Before Nathan could react, a stunningly beautiful girl threw herself into his arms. Chapter 343: Nathan arrives to Breistan (2) "Samael!" A voice rang out, filled with excitement and urgency. Before Nathan could react, a stunningly beautiful girl threw herself into his arms. Nathan caught her before she could stumble, his hands steady against her shoulders. As he took a closer look, a realization struck him¡ªshe hadn''t been present lately. He had heard whispers about her departure, that she had left on a trip to another city. But now, knowing she had been in Breistan all along, he felt he should have suspected it earlier. "You''re here again?" Nathan asked, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. "It''s so dull in the capital," Ameriah responded, pouting slightly. "My sister is always too busy, and you are as well... I had no one to talk to." "You should leave immediately," Nathan said, his tone firm and uncompromising. Ameriah''s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of hurt flashing across her expression. "W...why?" she stammered, visibly taken aback. "There''s a dangerous man out there," Nathan explained, his silver gaze sharpening. "He could arrive at any moment. It''s too dangerous for you to stay here." Ameriah, however, did not seem convinced. Instead of fear, amusement tugged at the corners of her lips. "You really think I''d be safer returning to the capital with just a handful of guards?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Wouldn''t I be much safer here with Samael, by your side?" Her voice was teasing, but there was undeniable logic behind her words. Nathan had no immediate response. She wasn''t wrong. If it had been any ordinary enemy, he wouldn''t have hesitated to send her away. But they were dealing with a Hero¡ªan opponent whose power and unpredictability made Nathan wary. Keeping Ameriah close, under his direct protection, might indeed be the better choice. Before he could form a rebuttal, Ameriah latched onto his arm with a bright smile. "Come, let me introduce you to a friend of mine," she said, tugging him forward without waiting for his consent. Nathan allowed himself to be led, though he felt the weight of another''s gaze on him. Scylla''s expression darkened as she watched Ameriah''s hand wrap around Nathan''s arm. She remained silent, but a quiet tension settled around her. She had grown accustomed to Ameriah''s presence, yet that did little to lessen her displeasure. To her, no woman had the right to touch Nathan so casually¡ªsave for Medea and Charybdis. Nathan ignored the tension and let Ameriah guide him further until they reached a new presence. Standing before them was a striking young woman with golden hair cascading down her back, her posture poised with the effortless grace of nobility. "Auria, you changed?" Ameriah asked, blinking in surprise. Auria had indeed altered her appearance. She now wore an elegant gown that far surpassed the beauty of her previous attire. The fabric shimmered subtly under the light, complementing her fair complexion. Even her face seemed different¡ªmore refined, as if she had carefully applied makeup to enhance her already delicate features. With a practiced movement, she lowered herself into a noble curtsy. "It is an immense honor to meet the Lord Commander of Tenebria," she said, her voice smooth and composed. "You are as magnificent as the rumors have described, Lord Samael. I am Auria Breistan." At the mention of her surname, Nathan''s eyes flickered toward Nakon, who stood nearby. "She is my daughter, Lord Commander," Nakon confirmed with a nod. Nathan shifted his gaze back to Auria, stepping closer. Auria''s heart pounded violently within her chest as Nathan''s imposing presence enveloped her. His white hair, his sharp gaze, and the sheer weight of his aura made it impossible for her to remain unaffected. She swallowed, willing herself to remain composed, but the closer he came, the more overwhelming his presence became. Nathan''s gaze lingered on Auria, his sharp gold eyes scrutinizing her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. There was something about her¡ªsomething that drew his attention in a way he couldn''t quite place. It wasn''t just her noble bearing or the way she carried herself. No, there was something deeper, something subtle yet undeniably present. Auria felt her cheeks heat up, a flush of deep red spreading across her face as she struggled to control her breathing. The weight of his attention was almost suffocating, yet she couldn''t bring herself to look away. She hadn''t expected this much focus from the Lord Commander of Tenebria, and yet, knowing that he was looking at her¡ªtruly looking at her¡ªfilled her with an unexpected sense of exhilaration. Standing beside them, Ameriah let out an exaggerated pout, tugging on Nathan''s arm in protest. "Samael?" she huffed, her jealousy barely concealed. Nathan turned his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "You need to leave," he stated, his voice firm. "Azariah will be expecting your return once she learns what happened here." Ameriah opened her mouth to argue, but before she could utter another word, a sudden cough wracked her body. She pressed a hand against her lips, wincing as a wave of weakness overtook her. Nathan''s eyes darkened. Her condition was worsening. He had known it for some time now, had seen the slow deterioration day by day, but witnessing it firsthand once again stirred something in him¡ªa quiet but growing urgency. He needed to find a solution before it became too late. Nakon, who had been observing the exchange, finally intervened. "Auria, take the princess back to your quarters." "Yes, Father," Auria responded obediently, stepping forward to support Ameriah. Though reluctant, Ameriah allowed herself to be led away, casting one last glance at Nathan before disappearing beyond the corridor. With the two women gone, Nakon turned back to Nathan. His gaze was steady, but there was a weight behind his words when he spoke. "If I may ask, Lord Commander¡ªhow long do you intend to stay?" He hoped Nathan''s presence would last long enough to ensure the threat was dealt with. "A day or two," Nathan answered plainly. "It depends." He wasn''t in a hurry to leave, but he was certain that within that timeframe, the Hero would either reveal himself or be drawn to him. "I see," Nakon murmured. There was a trace of disappointment in his voice, but he quickly masked it with diplomacy. "Then we will prepare your accommodations. See to it that Lord Commander Samael is given our finest quarters," he ordered, prompting a flurry of movement from the nearby maids, who bowed before scurrying off to make arrangements. Nakon clasped his hands behind his back. "Let us meet at dinner, Lord Commander. I look forward to discussing matters further." With that, he offered a respectful nod before retreating, leaving Nathan to follow the maids toward his assigned quarters. As he walked through the hall, his thoughts remained calculated, his mind already moving several steps ahead. But he wasn''t alone for long. "Scylla," Nathan called, his tone neutral yet expectant. Beside him, the ever-watchful Scylla turned her head. "Yes, Nate?" "Scout the city and the surrounding forests," he instructed. "If you find anything of interest¡ªanything at all¡ªreport back to me immediately." Scylla frowned, her lips pressing into a small pout. "Shouldn''t I stay with you?" "Scylla," he repeated, his voice firmer this time. "Do it." She huffed, crossing her arms before finally relenting. "Fine, fine..." With a resigned sigh, she vanished into the shadows, leaving Nathan alone with his thoughts once more. Once Nathan was led to his room, he waited for the maids to step out before closing the door behind them with a soft click. The chamber was lavish, adorned with elegant furnishings and a grand canopy bed draped in silken sheets. A cool breeze drifted in through the open window, carrying the scent of the distant forest. Ignoring the comfort of his surroundings, Nathan sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees as he laced his fingers together. His mind was already deep in contemplation. "A Hero from the Second Summoning of the Light Empire..." he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the whispering wind. He never thought he''d witness it in his lifetime. The first summoning had been disastrous enough¡ªan event that had tipped the balance of the world, shaping nations and igniting wars. And now, the cycle was repeating itself. "Khione." The moment he spoke her name, a brilliant white light illuminated the dimly lit room, casting fleeting shadows against the stone walls. A cold yet soothing presence filled the space, and when the glow faded, Khione stood before him¡ªethereal, resplendent, and as breathtaking as ever. Her cascading white hair shimmered like freshly fallen snow, and her icy blue eyes held an otherworldly glow, filled with quiet wisdom and an unshakable devotion. She was a goddess in every sense of the word, both in beauty and in presence. Nathan''s gaze softened as he looked at her. "How is Nivea?" It was the first thing he asked, his priority above all else. Their daughter¡ªtechnically his firstborn, and the child he had with Khione¡ªmeant the world to him. Though their time together was limited, he cared for her deeply, more than he could ever put into words. "She''s sleeping," Khione answered, her voice gentle, like the whisper of a snowflake drifting through the wind. Nathan exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. Ever since her birth, they had chosen to keep Nivea in a hidden dimension¡ªone that was protected from the chaos of the mortal realm. It was a precaution, one he hated but knew was necessary. Letting Khione and Nivea remain in the world of gods was far too dangerous, yet allowing them to freely roam the mortal plane invited even greater threats. This separate sanctuary was the best he could do for now. "I know she calls for you often," Khione murmured, watching him with an unreadable expression. "You didn''t visit her today." Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. "I know," he admitted with a sigh. "The journey here was longer than expected. But I''ll see her tomorrow¡ªwithout fail." Khione studied him for a moment before nodding in quiet acceptance. "Good. She misses you." A pang of regret flickered across Nathan''s heart, but he pushed it aside. There were more pressing matters to address. Khione knew it too. She tilted her head slightly, her white strands cascading over her shoulder. "You didn''t call me just to ask about Nivea," she said, her tone cool but knowing. "There''s something else." Nathan met her gaze. "Yeah," he admitted. "Tell me everything you know about the Second Summoning." Chapter 344: The Corrupted Gods "Tell me everything you know about the Second Summoning." As soon as the words left my mouth, Khione''s icy blue eyes flickered with a deep, unreadable emotion. She remained silent for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, before giving me a slow nod. "Before I speak about the Second Summoning, I must first tell you about the Demon King," she finally said, her voice steady but carrying an unmistakable weight. I narrowed my eyes at her. "Are you sure about this?" I asked. Khione''s obsession¡ªno, her unrelenting hatred¡ªfor the Demon King was something I had noticed long ago. It clouded her judgment, dictated her decisions, and ultimately led her down the path of summoning heroes from another world. It wasn''t mere duty that drove her. It was personal. But for what reason exactly, I had never pried too deeply. I had long known that she took the Demon King''s threat more seriously than most gods did¡ªand she was right to. A hundred years ago, that monstrous being had ignited a war that ravaged the world, and even now, his influence continued to cast a dark shadow over the land. Entire kingdoms feared his resurgence, their rulers trembling at the mere possibility of his return. But Khione''s grudge ran deeper than history, deeper than mere divine responsibility. Of course, I could have forced her to tell me everything before now. It wouldn''t have been difficult. But back then, I simply hadn''t cared enough to ask. And later... I decided to wait. I wanted to see when she would finally be ready to speak, to gather her thoughts, and reveal the truth on her own terms. Now, at last, that time had come. Khione inhaled deeply, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "I think you''ve probably heard that the Demon King wasn''t always like this," she murmured. I nodded. Azariah had told me that many times¡ªusually when she was feeling lost, or when sorrow weighed heavily on her. She had spoken of the father she remembered, the father she once loved. A man who had been kind, compassionate even. But something... something had burrowed into him, sinking its claws deep into his soul. A foreign, insidious force that had consumed him from the inside out, twisting him beyond recognition. That thing¡ªas Azariah always called it¡ªwas the true source of the Demon King''s cruelty. Not him. That thing had taken everything from her. One by one, it had claimed the lives of all her siblings, leaving only her and her blood sister, Ameriah. The two of them, the last surviving children of the Demon King, had endured when the rest of their kin perished in the endless cycle of war and destruction. Azariah and Ameriah had been born from the Demon King''s last wife. A woman who, like so many others, had met an untimely, inexplicable end. A woman whose death Azariah never truly believed was an accident. She was convinced that it had been responsible. The thing inside her father. The thing that had turned him into a monster. I took a deep breath before relaying what I had learned. "She told me that something was controlling her father... that it was the true mastermind behind the war and everything that has happened." My voice was steady, but even as I spoke, I felt the weight of those words settling over me. Khione nodded solemnly, her icy gaze distant, as if recalling a memory long buried. "That entity... we call it a Beast of Iblis." "Iblis?" I repeated, my brows furrowing. The name felt foreign yet oddly ominous, carrying a weight that sent an unexplainable shiver down my spine. "Yes," Khione confirmed, her voice laced with a mixture of reverence and loathing. "Iblis was once a God¡ªa mighty one, in fact. He was the progenitor of the Demon race, their creator. But creation was not enough for him. Corrupted by his own insatiable ambition and greed, he turned against the other Gods. He sought power beyond divinity, using the very Demons he had birthed as pawns in his war. Many believe he never intended to give them free will in the first place. They were meant to be his personal army, his perfect soldiers¡ªrelentless, unwavering, and obedient. But something unexpected happened." I leaned in slightly, absorbed by her words. "What was it?" Khione''s expression turned somber, her icy features hardening. "The Demons rebelled," she said. "They saw the countless deaths of their brethren, slaughtered like cattle for a war that wasn''t theirs. They refused to be disposable weapons. Realizing the truth of their existence, they turned against their creator and sided with the Gods, choosing to fight for their own freedom. What followed was a war so cataclysmic that it reshaped the heavens and the mortal realms alike. Five thousand years have passed since those days... but its echoes still linger." I exhaled, trying to process everything. "Which Gods fought against him?" "Almost all of them," she answered, her voice colder now, as if she were recounting something personal. "Every Pantheon, every divine ruler, every celestial being that felt threatened by Iblis'' power stood against him. And they had every reason to fear. His Dark Magic was unlike anything ever seen before¡ªancient, primal, and beyond control. He did not merely wield darkness; he was darkness incarnate. Even the Gods themselves struggled against his overwhelming strength. But what truly sealed his fate was his own arrogance. "He believed himself invincible, beyond the reach of death itself. But his hubris proved to be his undoing. His own creations¡ªthe Demons he once sought to enslave¡ªturned against him, siding with the Gods to bring him down. It was a battle that shook existence itself... and in the end, Iblis fell." I narrowed my eyes. "But... he wasn''t truly destroyed, was he?" Khione''s hands clenched into fists, her knuckles pale. "No," she admitted grimly. "We thought he was. The Gods, the Demons, all of us believed that Iblis had finally been erased from existence. But we were wrong. He was too cunning to let himself perish so easily. Anticipating the possibility of his own demise, he devised a contingency¡ªa plan to ensure his will would persist even beyond his death." A sense of unease crept into my chest. "What did he do?" "He used his own body to create something... unnatural," Khione said, her voice thick with disgust. "Fragments of himself¡ªeach one carrying a piece of his consciousness, his essence, his insidious will. These fragments became known as the Beasts of Iblis. They are parasites, seeking out hosts, latching onto the most suitable ones, and corrupting them from within. Over the centuries, they have taken root in mortals, kings, and even... Gods. Those who succumb to their influence lose themselves entirely, becoming mere puppets to his will. We call them the Corrupted Gods." "Corrupted Gods..." I muttered under my breath. The term felt eerily familiar. I had heard it before¡ªAphrodite had spoken of it. I recalled the conversation vividly. When I questioned her about Paris and Agamemnon¡ªtheir sudden surge in strength, their unnatural transformations¡ªshe had merely told me, in passing, that they had been taken, consumed by something far greater than themselves. They were no longer the men they once were; they had become vessels, pawns of Corrupted Gods. At the time, I hadn''t pressed her for details. Truthfully, I hadn''t cared. Paris and Agamemnon were of no concern to me. Their fates were inconsequential. But now, standing here, listening to Khione, I realized that I had been blind to the bigger picture. The Corrupted Gods... they weren''t just an anomaly. They weren''t just an isolated affliction. They were connected to the Demons. Iblis had created them¡ªwarping true Gods, tainting them with his own essence, reshaping them into monstrous echoes of their former divinity. "Then... the one controlling the Demon King... was a Corrupted God?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Khione met my gaze and nodded solemnly. A heavy silence stretched between us. If that was true, then whatever had possessed Azariah''s father was not merely some minor fiend¡ªit had to be something unimaginably powerful. A being strong enough to bend the will of a Demon King, a force capable of twisting rulers into nothing more than marionettes dancing on its strings. Khione''s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it¡ªcold, sharp, unyielding. "Iblis has spent the last thousand years feeding. Every war, every massacre, every soul consumed by despair¡ªit all fuels him. The Corrupted Gods are merely his tools, conduits through which he leeches from the mortal realm. And for what? A single purpose: to return. That war he ignited... it was never just about conquest. It was a ritual. A means to an end. And he has already gathered far more than we ever anticipated." I clenched my fists. "I see... And you knew this from the beginning. That''s why you summoned the Heroes, isn''t it?" She gave a slow nod. "Nobody believed me at first," she admitted, her expression hardening with frustration. "The other Gods dismissed the Corrupted Ones as mere fragments of Iblis, remnants of a long-forgotten past. Compared to him, they were weak¡ªshadows of what he once was. But I knew better. I knew that if we allowed ourselves to grow complacent, if we let down our guard, then, little by little, Iblis would regain his strength. He would reclaim his body. "And if that happens..." She exhaled sharply, her icy eyes narrowing. "This time, we won''t win. Five thousand years ago, every Pantheon, every God and Goddess, stood united against him. Now?" A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Now, the highest Gods of each Pantheon despise one another. They scheme, they fight, they hoard power like it is their birthright. If war comes again, there will be no unity. They will think selfishly. And that will be our downfall." Her words hung in the air, suffocating, undeniable. And yet, something still felt... off. There was an undercurrent of emotion in her voice¡ªsomething beyond duty, beyond the mere desire to prevent a catastrophe. Something personal. I studied her carefully. "There''s more to this, isn''t there?" I asked. "Why do you hate him so much?" A flicker of something passed through her gaze. Pain. For the first time since our conversation began, she hesitated. Her lips parted as if to speak, but then she stopped herself. Her jaw tightened. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. And then, finally, she whispered¡ª "My father." The words came out bitter, hollow. "Boreas. He was killed by a Beast of Iblis." Her voice trembled ever so slightly before she forced it into steadiness. "And now... now he has become one of them. A Corrupted God." Chapter 345: The first summoning "My father." The words came out bitter, hollow. "Boreas. He was killed by a Beast of Iblis." Her voice trembled ever so slightly before she forced it into steadiness. "And now... now he has become one of them. A Corrupted God." I had never seen such a sorrowful expression on Khione''s face¡ªyet beneath that sorrow burned a raw, seething hatred. Her father had been slain by Iblis. That alone was enough to fuel her vengeance. But it wasn''t just about that, was it? No, she wasn''t merely after retribution. She wanted to wipe out every last Corrupted God. She wanted them erased from existence. Then, suddenly, a realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened. "Azariah''s father¡ªthe Corrupted God who tainted her bloodline..." My voice was slow, hesitant, as the pieces clicked together. "It was your father, wasn''t it?" Khione''s jaw tightened. "He is not my father anymore," she spat, her voice laced with venom. "But yes... that thing... that abomination is wearing his body. Using it, defiling it¡ªtwisting it into something monstrous." Her hands trembled at her sides. "He slaughtered my entire family with his own hands... and since then, I have been alone." I reached out and grasped her hand firmly. "You aren''t alone, Khione," I told her, my voice steady and resolute. "I''m here. Nivea is here. You have a family now." For a moment, she simply stared at me, her icy blue eyes searching my face as if trying to discern whether my words were empty or real. Then, without a word, she squeezed my hand tighter¡ªsilent, but unmistakable in the way she tried to reassure herself with my presence. Khione was never one to express herself easily. So instead of speaking, she simply nodded. "You want to kill him," I continued. "And that''s understandable. But for now, the Demon King is no more." I exhaled slowly. "Still... I''ll confirm it for myself." Azariah. I had avoided questioning her about her father all this time. I never pressed her for the truth, never forced her to relive those memories. But now? If it meant helping Khione, I would ask. And I knew Azariah wouldn''t hold back anymore¡ªshe would tell me. Khione gave a small nod, a hint of appreciation flickering in her gaze. Then, after a deep breath, she turned her eyes forward, gathering her thoughts before speaking again. "After my family was slaughtered, I swore I would hunt them all down. Every last Corrupted God. I searched for years, but they hid well. I could never find them¡ªuntil the Demon King appeared." Her fingers curled into fists, her voice thick with frustration. "He was once a good man. A noble ruler. And then he changed. He was consumed¡ªtainted by a powerful Corrupted God. By him." She clenched her jaw. "I went to Olympus. I pleaded with the Gods to help me. I warned them. Begged the other Pantheons to listen¡ªto understand the threat we faced. But they ignored me." I already knew where this was going. "So you used forbidden magic," I said, finishing her thought. Khione nodded. "The summoning of Heroes," she confirmed. And just like that, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. She hadn''t done it out of some grand design. She hadn''t done it for glory or power. She had done it because no one else would act. Because she was alone. Because it was her only choice. "The first time I invoked that forbidden power was seventy years ago. Back then, I did so in secrecy, ensuring the Gods remained unaware of my actions. I moved in the shadows, manipulating events beyond their watchful eyes. To achieve my goal, I turned to the Empire of Light, an entity I had already come to understand intimately. Their people, their rulers, their beliefs¡ªall of it was laid bare before me, making them the perfect instruments for my design. With careful planning, I wielded the forbidden magic and, for the first time in history, summoned the Heroes from another world." She paused, her gaze distant, as though she were seeing those events unfold once more. "And those Heroes," I asked, my curiosity piqued. "How did they compare to us?" A faint, almost melancholic smile touched her lips. "They were... different," she admitted. "Far less accepting of their fate than you and your companions. For a full month, they refused to take up arms, resisting their role in the battle against darkness. They struggled against their new reality, unable to grasp why they had been chosen or what was expected of them. But then came the day that changed everything." She inhaled slowly, her voice taking on a sharper edge as she continued. "The Demons attacked the palace. I had foreseen it, of course. I knew the exact moment the assault would begin, the devastation it would bring. And yet, I did nothing. I allowed it to happen. I stood back and watched as the chaos unfolded. Because only through the fire of battle would they understand the truth of this world." Her fingers curled slightly, as if grasping at memories long past. "When they saw the carnage, when they faced death with their own eyes, something shifted within them. It was no longer a mere story they had been told. It was reality. It was survival. That day, they understood¡ªif they wished to live, they had to fight. And so, begrudgingly at first, they began to train. Slowly but surely, they adapted. The process of bestowing Skills was still in its infancy back then¡ªcrude, unstable, far from refined. They struggled to master their abilities, fumbling in the dark with powers they barely understood. But they had no choice. This world would not wait for them to catch up. They learned through hardship, through blood and battle. And in time, they became the Heroes they were meant to be." She let out a soft chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "The people of the Empire of Light witnessed their rise, and soon, the other kingdoms followed suit. They all came to grasp the significance of the summoned Heroes¡ªthe immense potential they held. It was a turning point, one that would shape history forever." Her gaze darkened. "At first, the Gods remained silent. Many among them disapproved of the forbidden magic, but instead of condemning me outright, they merely watched. I believe they were entertained¡ªintrigued by the spectacle of the Heroes and the battles they waged. Even in those days, despite the monstrous power the Demon King displayed, the Gods failed to take the threat seriously. Perhaps they were right not to. Perhaps, had they truly wished, they could have erased the Demon King with but a thought. And yet, I understood something they did not." She exhaled, her expression unreadable. "A threat left unchecked will only grow. And if allowed to fester for too long, it will spiral beyond anyone''s control. That was why I acted¡ªwhy I did what had to be done before it was too late." "What about the Heroes?" I asked, watching Khione carefully. She exhaled softly before answering. "They took it far more seriously than the Gods ever did, obviously," she said, her voice carrying a note of quiet sorrow. "Unlike the Gods, they were the ones in immediate danger. They were the ones forced to fight for their survival. And because of that, they stood together." Her gaze drifted into the distance, lost in memories. "They were much closer than your class or even the second group of summoned Heroes. They trusted each other completely, forming an unbreakable bond. They relied on one another in ways you and your peers never have. But..." her voice faltered for a moment, growing quieter, "even that wasn''t enough." I studied her expression carefully. The way her eyes darkened, the way her lips pressed together¡ªshe was mourning. "You were close to them, weren''t you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Khione nodded slowly, her expression tightening. "It wasn''t easy at first," she admitted. "They struggled to understand why they had been summoned, why they were being asked to risk their lives in a world they barely knew. And I understood their frustration. Their fear. But I needed them. I knew they had the potential to change everything, to tip the scales in our favor. "Eventually, after much hesitation, they accepted their fate. And when they did, our relationship changed. We grew closer. I helped them become stronger, guided them in understanding their Skills, taught them the rules of this world. I did everything in my power to prepare them, giving them all the knowledge and support I could offer." She let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "It may sound foolish now, but... I considered them my friends. True friends. We shared a deep bond, and I watched them grow into formidable warriors. Stronger than I had ever imagined. I truly believed¡ª" she swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper, "¡ªthat nothing could stop them. That they would succeed where so many others had failed. That they could kill him. The Demon King." Then, suddenly, her entire demeanor shifted. Her hands clenched into fists, her body tense with barely restrained emotion. "But it wasn''t enough." She forced herself to breathe, but the weight of her grief was unmistakable. "When the day of the battle finally arrived, it lasted for three days. Three days of relentless bloodshed, of exhaustion, of desperation. And everything... everything went wrong." Her voice trembled slightly, but she pressed on. "By the laws of the Gods, I was forbidden to interfere. I was powerless to step in, to save them, to turn the tide. And perhaps¡ª" she bit her lip, her frustration bleeding through "¡ªperhaps I was gullible. Perhaps, deep down, I still believed they would triumph. That their strength, their unity, would be enough." She looked down, her fingers curling tighter. "But it wasn''t. When I finally made my decision to intervene, it was already too late." Her next words came out in a whisper, but they carried the weight of devastation. "They were gone. Every last one of them. Destroyed by the Demon King''s dark magic." The pain in her voice was undeniable. "That Demon King... he was stronger than even me. I was ready to fight him myself¡ªto avenge them¡ªbut before I could, Aphrodite pulled me away." She fell silent after that, lost in the ghosts of the past. Chapter 346: The Second summoning "That Demon King... he was stronger than even me. I was ready to fight him myself¡ªto avenge them¡ªbut before I could, Aphrodite pulled me away." She fell silent after that, lost in the ghosts of the past. "Stronger than even you?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief. Khione was not just a Goddess in beauty but also in power. Despite her ethereal, delicate appearance, she possessed strength beyond mortal comprehension. The only reason I had managed to defeat her was through sheer cunning¡ªexploiting her arrogance and underestimation of me. Had I not outwitted her, had she not been so naive in that moment, she would have crushed me without effort. Yet now, she was telling me that someone¡ªeven stronger than her¡ªexisted. The Demon King... stronger than a God? It was a revelation that unsettled me. I had always planned to reach the domain of gods, to ascend beyond the limits of mortality. And yet, someone had already done so¡ªsomeone who wasn''t divine, but a monster. "Yes," Khione confirmed, her voice carrying a rare trace of unease. "He was that dangerous. When I first encountered him, I hesitated, momentarily paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of his power. But while I wavered, the Demon King did not. He recognized the looming threat posed by the Heroes of the Light Empire and took decisive action before they could move against him. He didn''t merely seek to defend his domain¡ªhe sought to annihilate his enemies before they could gather their strength. His ambition was not limited to toppling a single empire. He desired dominion over the entire continent." Her eyes darkened with the weight of memory. "Rallying his forces, he issued a call to arms, summoning every last demon under his banner. What followed was a war unlike anything the world had ever seen. His armies swept across the land like an unstoppable tide, devouring kingdom after kingdom. No nation was spared from his wrath. Cities burned. Fields were soaked in blood. Entire civilizations trembled beneath his conquest. The toll was catastrophic¡ªcountless innocent lives lost, entire bloodlines erased. The rulers of the human kingdoms, realizing they would be slaughtered if they fought alone, cast aside their rivalries and forged an unprecedented alliance. Only by standing together could they hope to withstand the Demon King''s onslaught. And for a time, they managed to hold the line. For years, they fought desperately, clinging to survival through sheer willpower and numbers." "But in the end, it wasn''t enough," I murmured, already knowing how the story would end. Khione gave a solemn nod. "No, it wasn''t. The Demon King was more than just a warrior¡ªhe was a force of nature. His strength alone dwarfed entire legions, and his mastery of Dark Magic made him even deadlier. Even the most powerful knights and magicians fell before him like leaves in a storm. Not even the Divine Knights¡ªthose who had been chosen by the gods themselves¡ªcould stand against him. He wasn''t just a king. He was a calamity, a walking disaster wielding the power of a god." I narrowed my eyes. "And still, the gods did nothing?" She let out a bitter breath. "No. I begged them to intervene, pleaded with them to act before it was too late. But they refused. They claimed that the mortal world was beyond their domain, that they could not meddle in the affairs of men. That it was not their place to interfere." I scoffed, feeling anger rise in my chest. "Even though the Demon King wielded power that rivaled their own?" Khione''s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Yes," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "They dismissed him. They believed he was still beneath them, that he did not warrant their concern. So I waited. I bided my time, gathering my magic, knowing that there was only one path left. If the gods would not intervene... I would summon another set of Heroes myself." Her gaze met mine, an unspoken weight lingering in her icy-blue eyes. "After gathering enough magic, I initiated the summoning once more. But this time, I made sure to inform the Gods of my decision," Khione said, her voice carrying a note of dry amusement. "I did not want a repeat of last time. And to my surprise, they accepted without much resistance. Not because they saw the necessity of it, nor because they had suddenly developed a sense of responsibility toward this world. No, they allowed it because they were intrigued. Curious, even. They wanted to see what kind of Heroes would answer the call this time." She scoffed, shaking her head. I wasn''t surprised. The Gods¡ªespecially the highest-ranking among them¡ªsaw everything as mere entertainment. They viewed the world as a game board, mortals as their pieces. Their arrogance was insufferable, but could I truly blame them? They were Gods, after all. "But these Heroes... they were different from the first ones." Her expression darkened slightly as she continued. "The first Heroes had been reluctant. They had questioned their role, resisted their fate, and struggled to accept what had been thrust upon them. But this new group? They embraced it almost immediately. They didn''t hesitate. They accepted their status as Heroes without question, throwing themselves into training, fighting monsters, gaining power. But despite their enthusiasm, there was something crucial missing¡ªcohesion. "They lacked the unity of the first Heroes. There was no deep trust between them, no sense of shared purpose. Instead, what I saw disturbed me. Most of them... weren''t good people." She sighed, crossing her arms. "They were volatile, unpredictable. Many of them reveled in their newfound strength, wielding it not as a duty, but as a privilege. They took advantage of their status, using it to manipulate, to indulge in their worst impulses. It didn''t take me long to realize just how far some of them were willing to go." Her eyes gleamed with something sharp¡ªdisgust, perhaps. "They wielded their power like tyrants, exerting their will over the people of the Empire of Light. They bent the royals and even the Divine Knights to their whims, treating them as nothing more than stepping stones to their desires. And while there were a few among them who still held onto a sense of morality, they were the minority. The rest... they cared only for themselves." I frowned. "So what did you do?" Khione''s lips curled into something resembling a smirk. "I adapted. I treated them differently. They weren''t the same as the first, and I couldn''t expect them to be. Instead of guiding them with kindness, I steered them with strategy. I manipulated where I had to, used their ambitions against them, kept them in line by ensuring they continued growing stronger. And it worked. Their strength increased far more quickly than their predecessors." She fell silent for a moment, before exhaling softly. "But..." That single word carried a weight that made my stomach tighten. I watched her carefully. "But what?" I asked, noticing the way her gaze darkened, the way her hands clenched slightly at her sides. "But some of them abandoned the Empire of Light altogether," she said, her voice quieter now. "They disappeared. Vanished without a trace. And worse, some of them..." She hesitated, before finally speaking the words. "Some of them joined the Demon King." "What?" I couldn''t mask my shock. She nodded grimly. "In the end, nearly half of them turned their backs on us. Whether it was out of selfishness, cowardice, or a simple desire for power, they defected. Some vanished, never to be seen again. Others sought refuge in the ranks of the enemy, betraying the very world that had given them a second chance." "And the ones who remained?" I asked. "They had no choice but to fight," Khione answered. "Some stayed out of loyalty. Others out of fear. But regardless of their reasons, they stood their ground. And when the time came, they followed their strongest leaders into battle. They faced their former comrades on the battlefield, fighting against those they had once trained beside." Her eyes, usually cold and unreadable, flickered with something unreadable¡ªperhaps regret. "And then... they reached the Demon King. The second generation of Heroes stood before him, just as their predecessors had before them." "What happened this time?" I asked, my voice firm and serious. I already had a good idea of what had transpired, but I needed more information¡ªdetails that could be of use to me. Every piece of knowledge was a weapon, and I intended to arm myself thoroughly. She took a slow breath, as if trying to steady herself, but there was an unmistakable tension in her posture. "They fought the Demon King," she began, her tone carrying a mix of admiration and frustration. "This group of Heroes advanced faster than the ones before them. They reached him at a pace we hadn''t seen before, cutting through his forces with an efficiency that was... unexpected. They even managed to defeat the Demon King''s strongest knights." Her fingers curled into a tight fist, and though her expression remained controlled, the small gesture betrayed her emotions. "The main group of Heroes this time was truly powerful. And thanks to the information left behind by the first summoned Heroes, they had a much easier time dealing with the Demons, even managing to stand against the Demon King himself. I had planned for this outcome... I gave them everything I could¡ªstrategies, insights, possibilities. Yet¡ª" She cut herself off, her knuckles turning white as her nails pressed into her palm. I narrowed my eyes. So, even with all those advantages, something still went wrong. Of course, I hadn''t been summoned here with my class just for some meaningless game. The previous Heroes had failed. Chapter 347: What happened and how it ended They failed. "Even with every strategy I had devised, every advantage I had painstakingly provided, they could not defeat the Demon King. He was simply too powerful. It wasn''t that my solutions had been flawed¡ªno, they had been sound. But the Demon King had grown far beyond what I had anticipated. Over the years, he had uncovered ways to shield himself, fortifying his defenses against the very Heroes who had once managed to wound him. And when the battle came, they fell. " I met Khione''s gaze, my expression unreadable. "You saw them die?" I asked, my voice calm yet weighted with the gravity of my inquiry. Khione nodded, her expression carrying the heavy burden of what she had witnessed. "I saw everything. Their existence¡ªevery last fragment of their souls¡ªwas swallowed, consumed by the boundless darkness of the Demon King. They were not just killed. They were erased, reduced to nothingness. Every Hero who stood against him, every warrior who dared to challenge him, perished." She took a breath, as if steadying herself. "Even those who chose to side with the Demon King were not spared in the end. His hunger knew no allegiance. I searched for those who had disappeared¡ªthe ones who fled and never returned¡ªbut I found no trace of them. I could only assume they, too, had met their end, cut down in the shadows where no one would ever find them." The weight of her words settled in the air between us like a suffocating fog. "And then," I said slowly, piecing it together, "twenty years later, you summoned us." "Yes," Khione confirmed. "I managed to gather enough magic, much faster than I had originally anticipated, and so I enacted the ritual for the third summoning of Heroes. This time... things were different." She paused, her gaze drifting as if recalling the moment. "You awakened faster. You grew stronger at an alarming rate¡ªfar surpassing the previous generations of Heroes. Jason and Sienna, in particular, exhibited extraordinary talent right from the first day. Their potential was unlike anything I had seen before. I thought I had found the perfect champions." She hesitated, then turned her eyes toward me. "But then you appeared." I smirked slightly. Of course, she had never expected me to rise to this level. She had never foreseen me becoming someone dangerous¡ªsomeone who, in just two years, had climbed beyond the reach of even her expectations. "Do you regret it?" I asked, my voice laced with amusement as I reached for her, pulling her effortlessly into my arms. The scent of her divine essence filled my senses as her body pressed against mine. She didn''t resist. She didn''t push me away. Seated comfortably on my lap, she shook her head, her silver hair cascading like silk over her shoulders. "If I had seen your potential from the start," she murmured, her voice quiet yet certain, "our relationship would have never reached this far." That much was certain. If Khione had treated me with the same gentleness and unwavering support that she had given my classmates¡ªthe ones blessed with high-ranked skills¡ªI would have never even considered standing against her. I would have never sought to steal her Forbidden Skill. I would have never dared to use it against her. I would have never enslaved her. I would have never been summoned to the Tenebria Kingdom. I would have never become entangled in the Trojan War. And everything that followed¡ªevery battle, every conquest, every path that had led me here¡ªwould have never happened. I would not have reached this far. I would not have become this strong. But none of that mattered now. There was no regret between us. Everything that had unfolded¡ªthe betrayals, the victories, the struggles¡ªhad been necessary for us to arrive at this point. Every decision, every consequence, every action had shaped me into what I was today. And as I sat here with Khione in my arms, her divine presence pressed against me, I realized something undeniable. I was content. I had no complaints about the situation I found myself in with her. No doubts. No second thoughts. A faint shift in the air caught my attention as Khione''s voice broke the silence. "Are you sure he is a Hero?" she asked, her tone carrying a rare trace of skepticism. She already knew of the rumored Hero''s appearance in Breistan, but unlike me, she wasn''t convinced. Not yet. She needed proof¡ªsolid, irrefutable proof¡ªbefore she would acknowledge it as fact. "I don''t know," I admitted. "But either way, I have to be sure. If you saw him, do you think you''d be able to recognize him?" It had been twenty years since she had last laid eyes on the second wave of summoned Heroes. Time could change a person in ways both subtle and profound. Perhaps she would remember him... or perhaps he would be a stranger to her now. Khione narrowed her eyes slightly, lost in thought. "I think I can," she said at last. "But if he appears again, don''t let him slip away. Capture him. I have questions of my own." Her reaction was understandable. Until now, she had believed that every last Hero from the second summoning had been wiped from existence. And yet, here we were¡ªfaced with the sudden emergence of a Hero after all these years. "He might be one of the Heroes you lost track of after they abandoned the Empire," I suggested, voicing the most plausible theory. During the second summoning, not all Heroes had remained loyal to the Empire of Light. Some had chosen another path¡ªone of defiance, rebellion, and self-interest. They had turned their backs on the Empire, rejecting its rule, and disappeared into the unknown. Some left the continent entirely, seeking their own purpose beyond the confines of their so-called destiny. Twenty years had passed since then. Could it be that one of them had survived all this time... and for some reason, decided to return? Khione''s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if the weight of her thoughts pressed heavily on her tongue. "This is my thought as well," she said, her icy blue eyes narrowing in contemplation. "But I don''t understand why he would come back out of nowhere. After all this time, after everything... it doesn''t make sense." I leaned back against the cold stone wall, the chill seeping through my tunic, grounding me in the moment. "I think he came back because he needs help," I replied, my voice steady but laced with suspicion. "Desperation has a way of driving even the most prideful men to their knees. And the way he''s clawing at the city¡ªit reeks of someone who''s lost everything and is willing to do anything to reclaim it." Khione tilted her head, her white hair cascading over her shoulder like a waterfall under moonlight. "Possible," she murmured, her lips curving into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. Her agreement was quiet, but it carried the weight of her sharp intuition. "We''ll see," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I''ll look into it tomorrow. For now, you should go back to Nivea. She shouldn''t wake up alone." My voice softened as I spoke of my daughter, a pang of guilt tightening in my chest. Though I couldn''t always be the father I wanted to be¡ªpresent, flawless, unwavering¡ªI refused to let my children feel the sting of loneliness. They deserved more than that. Khione''s gaze lingered on me, her expression unreadable for a moment before she surprised me. "I still have enough time for a small service, if you wish," she said, her voice low and smooth, like the caress of a winter breeze. Before I could respond, her hand moved with deliberate grace, her pale fingers brushing against the growing tension in my trousers. Her touch was electric, sending a shiver up my spine as her hand settled over my hardening length. I exhaled sharply, my breath catching in my throat as she began to stroke me through the fabric, her movements slow and deliberate. "If you want it so much," I said, my voice rough with desire, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Khione didn''t need further encouragement. She sank to her knees before me, her movements fluid and unhurried, as if she were performing a sacred ritual. Her slender fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants, pulling them down just enough to free my cock, which sprang to attention, already throbbing with anticipation. Her hand wrapped around me, soft yet firm, and she began to stroke me in earnest. Each movement was precise, perfectly timed, as if she had memorized every inch of me. And perhaps she had¡ªthis wasn''t the first time she''d done this, after all. Khione was nothing if not meticulous, and her expertise was evident in the way her fingers danced along my shaft, teasing and tantalizing. "Sluuurp!" The sound of her lips meeting my flesh sent a jolt of pleasure through me. Her mouth was warm and wet, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. She kissed the tip of my cock gently, almost reverently, before her tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, deliberate path along the length of me. Her breath was hot against my skin, and I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting to maintain control. When her tongue reached the base of my shaft, she paused, her eyes flicking up to meet mine for the briefest of moments before she turned her attention to my balls. Her tongue darted out again, this time to lick and tease the sensitive skin there, her movements slow and deliberate. I bit back a groan, my hips twitching involuntarily as she worked her magic. By the time she pulled back, my dick was fully erect, standing tall and proud before her. A bead of precum glistened at the tip, and Khione didn''t hesitate. Her tongue darted out again, capturing the droplet with a soft, almost obscene sound. "Sluuuup~~" I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing gently against her skin as she parted her lips and took me into the warm, wet haven of her mouth. The sensation was exquisite, a dance of pleasure and surrender that left me breathless and yearning for more. Chapter 348: Ameriahs desire "I can''t believe it!" Auria''s excited voice echoed through the vast chamber, a room so grand it could rival those of royalty. The high, arched ceilings were adorned with intricate carvings, and golden chandeliers cast a warm, flickering glow over the luxurious furnishings. Silk curtains billowed slightly from the evening breeze drifting through the tall windows, adding an almost ethereal charm to the scene. At the center of the opulent room, Auria practically bounced on the plush bed, her golden eyes gleaming with excitement. She resembled a love-struck maiden who had just met the hero of her dreams, her hands clasped together as if trying to contain the thrill surging through her. Across from her, Ameriah watched with a mixture of amusement and understanding. She sat on the bed, gracefully leaning against a mound of soft pillows, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders. Unlike Auria, she wasn''t particularly shaken¡ªafter all, she had long since grown accustomed to Nathan''s presence. The two of them shared this room for both security and comfort. Ameriah had never liked sleeping alone, a habit ingrained from years of sharing a bed with her older sister, Azariah. Now, with Auria as her closest friend, the arrangement felt natural. Auria''s exhilaration was impossible to miss. She had been waiting for this moment ever since Nathan had been summoned, and now that she had finally met him, she was practically glowing with excitement. Ameriah could understand¡ªafter all, when she herself had first met Nathan, especially after his transformation following the Trojan War, she had been just as awestruck. His presence had changed drastically since then. Everything about him¡ªhis appearance, his strength, his very aura¡ªhad evolved into something both commanding and undeniably captivating. The power he exuded was unlike anything she had ever witnessed, and even she, despite her usual composure, had needed time to adjust to the sheer force of his existence. So it made sense that Auria, who had longed to meet him from the very beginning, would be overwhelmed now that her wish had finally been granted. "He looks even more handsome than I ever imagined!" Auria gushed, pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks. "No, at this point, he looks like a god! I''ve never seen anyone like him in my entire life! How can you stay so calm in front of him, Ameriah?" Her voice was laced with genuine wonder, her golden eyes wide with admiration. Ameriah chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I see Samael quite often at the palace in the capital," she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Auria gasped dramatically. "I am so jealous!" she declared, grabbing Ameriah''s hands and squeezing them tightly. "You absolutely have to introduce me properly! Please, Ameriah, I beg you!" Ameriah blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Didn''t you already introduce yourself?" "I... I did," Auria admitted, a hint of shyness creeping into her voice, "but I want to do it again! I don''t want the Lord Commander to ever forget me. I need to leave a lasting impression tomorrow!" Her expression turned serious, determination burning in her gaze. Ameriah let out a soft sigh, shaking her head in amusement. Auria was truly hopeless when it came to this. But then again... perhaps she understood more than she was willing to admit. "Alright, I''ll ask Samael for you," Ameriah said, her voice carrying a note of reluctant amusement. "Thank you! Thank you so much, Princess!" Auria exclaimed, her golden eyes sparkling with excitement. Her cheeks were already flushing red at the mere thought of meeting Nathan again, as if her heart could barely contain her anticipation. Ameriah watched her friend with a small, knowing smile, but after a moment, a more serious expression crossed her face. She tilted her head slightly, regarding Auria with curiosity. "It''s fine, but... are you sure it''s a good idea to get close to Samael?" she asked meaningfully, her voice tinged with innocent concern. "Your father won''t take it kindly, and you are a duke''s daughter. Won''t that cause problems for you?" What she left unsaid lingered in the air between them. Ameriah understood how noble society worked¡ªAuria''s reputation and future marriage prospects could be affected if she became too entangled with a man like Samael. A duke''s daughter was expected to marry well, to uphold her family''s honor, not to chase after a man already surrounded by powerful women. Auria, however, merely giggled at Ameriah''s words, her laughter light and full of confidence. "You really are so innocent, Princess," she teased, shaking her head. "You worry too much. I won''t have any problems if I manage to claim the Lord Commander for myself." Ameriah''s breath caught in her throat. Her pale blue eyes widened in sheer disbelief as she stared at her friend. "A...Auria?!" she stammered, utterly flustered. Auria blinked at her, confused. "What? Is that wrong?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "Any woman would wish to be with the Lord Commander." "T-That''s true," Ameriah admitted hesitantly, fidgeting slightly. "But... Samael already has a lot of women, believe me." She didn''t elaborate further, but she didn''t need to. She might have been a bit naive at times, but she wasn''t stupid. She had walked in on far too many compromising situations¡ªtimes when she had accidentally stumbled upon Samael and her older sister, Azariah, locked in moments far too intimate for her innocent mind to process. She had always turned on her heels and fled before she could see too much, but the truth was clear: Azariah was not the only one. Samael''s relationships extended beyond her sister. His three knightly companions¡ªSemiramis, Helen, and Astynome¡ªhad all shared his bed as well. It was no secret, and if anything, it seemed inevitable that others would soon follow. Clytemnestra and Briseis were already lingering close, their interest in the Lord Commander growing with each passing day. Auria, however, remained completely unfazed. "I''ve heard the rumors," she said with a confident grin. "But is that really a problem? He is the Hero of Darkness, after all." Her red eyes gleamed with unwavering determination. "It''s only natural for a man like him to have many women," she continued, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But that won''t stop me. I wish to be among them." Ameriah could only stare, completely taken aback. Auria leaned closer, clasping Ameriah''s hands in hers, her expression turning pleading. "Could you help me, Ameriah?" "H-Help?" Ameriah echoed weakly, her mind scrambling to process what she was hearing. "Yes!" Auria said eagerly. "You''re one of the Lord Commander''s women, aren''t you?" Ameriah nearly choked. "W-What?!" Auria ignored her friend''s shock, her red eyes shining with excitement as she pressed forward. "Could you speak to him on my behalf? Tell him about my desire to be with him?" She tilted her head, giving Ameriah the most devastatingly effective pair of puppy-dog eyes she could muster. Ameriah''s entire face turned bright red. "I-I am not¡ª!" Ameriah tried to protest, but the words caught in her throat, refusing to come out. Truthfully, she couldn''t quite define her relationship with Nathan. It was a complicated tangle of emotions, unspoken moments, and quiet gestures that set her apart from others in his life. She knew¡ªwithout a doubt¡ªthat she was among the small, exclusive circle of people he cared about. That much was clear. The way he treated her was different. Softer. More considerate. And that alone filled her heart with warmth. But to go so far as to say she was his woman? That felt like a stretch, a dream too distant to grasp. A nagging doubt always lingered at the back of her mind. Was she truly someone he saw as a potential lover? Or was she just a fragile little girl in his eyes, someone who needed to be protected, cared for¡ªbut never desired? The mere thought sent a pang of sadness through her chest. Because the truth was, Ameriah loved Nathan. She had loved him for a long time¡ªfar longer than most. Longer than her older sister, even. From the very moment he was summoned, she had been drawn to him. The way he carried himself with quiet confidence, the way he faced the world with an unshakable strength¡ªcold yet undeniably composed. And in those rare moments when his kindness slipped through, hidden beneath his stoic nature, she had found herself falling deeper and deeper. Talking to him had been a joy. A privilege. And as he slowly became more open, letting his barriers down little by little, her feelings only intensified. But no matter how much she loved him, she was painfully aware that he likely didn''t see her the same way. She had loved him first. Before anyone else. Yet, as time passed, all the women who had come to love him after her had already secured their place by his side. They had become his lovers, his partners. Meanwhile, she remained where she always had been¡ªwatching from the sidelines, longing for something that felt just out of reach. She had tried to be bold. To make him notice her. But it never seemed to be enough. No matter what she did, it felt as though he was blind to her feelings. A sad smile crossed Ameriah''s lips as she finally spoke. "I think he only looks at me like a sick girl who needs help," she admitted, her voice quiet, almost resigned. Auria, sitting beside her, studied Ameriah''s downcast expression, struggling to find the right words. She could see the sorrow in her friend''s eyes, the quiet yearning buried beneath layers of doubt and insecurity. "But I''m happy like that," Ameriah added, forcing a smile that didn''t quite reach her eyes. And yet, in that moment, Auria reached forward and clasped Ameriah''s hands more firmly, squeezing them with determination. "Don''t give up, Ameriah," she urged, her voice carrying an undeniable spark of resolve. "Come on!" Ameriah blinked in surprise. "Auria?" "Leave it to me." A smirk curved Auria''s lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "I''ll make sure the Lord Commander sees you as a woman. And not just that¡ªI''ll make sure you become one of his women!" "A...Auria?" Hearing those words, Ameriah''s cheeks flamed a deep shade of red. A part of her wanted to brush off Auria''s bold declaration as a joke. But another part¡ªhidden deep inside her¡ªfelt the first flicker of hope. A tiny spark of anticipation. Could it really happen? . Chapter 349: Ameriah and Auria in danger! Hearing those words, Ameriah''s cheeks flamed a deep shade of red. A part of her wanted to brush off Auria''s bold declaration as a joke. But another part¡ªhidden deep inside her¡ªfelt the first flicker of hope. A tiny spark of anticipation. Could it really happen? "Don''t look so surprised," Auria said, flashing a wide, confident smile. "Of course, I would love to be with the Lord Commander myself. But you, Ameriah¡ªyou''re my close friend. I want to support you first. And when the time comes, I hope you''ll support me as well!" Ameriah, still reeling from Auria''s unexpected declaration, found herself at a loss for words. Her mind spun as she tried to process the idea. The thought of being that close to Nathan... it was exhilarating, almost too much to believe. She had spent so long admiring him from a distance, watching as others claimed a place by his side while she remained trapped in the background. But now, Auria was offering her something she had never truly dared to imagine¡ªan opportunity to change that. A future where she could stand beside him. The image flickered in her mind, tantalizing and unreal. To be as close to Nathan as her sister was... could it really be possible? If there was even the slightest chance, then she had to try. Slowly, hesitantly, Ameriah nodded. "Perfect!" Auria clapped her hands together, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "First, you have to go to the Lord Commander''s room. Right now." "R...Right now?" Ameriah stammered, her heartbeat quickening. "B..But he must be asleep..." "Who cares?" Auria waved off her concern with an amused chuckle. "This is the perfect moment! It''s nighttime¡ªideal for these kinds of things. Just say you''re scared or feeling unwell and need comfort." Ameriah hesitated, shifting uncertainly. "S..Sick? But..." "Ameriah, you are sick," Auria reminded her, her tone turning slightly more serious. "And that''s exactly why he''s so soft toward you, isn''t it? You said it yourself¡ªhe treats you differently because of your condition. So why not use that to your advantage?" "I... I see..." Ameriah mumbled, gripping the fabric of her gown. She didn''t particularly like the idea of using her illness as an excuse. It felt manipulative, dishonest. But... if it was to win over Nathan, then maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªit was okay. Auria, seeing her hesitation, wasted no time in pushing forward. "And one more thing," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You can''t just waltz in there wearing this plain old gown that hides every inch of your body. You need something... more revealing. Something that will make him see you as a woman¡ªnot just some fragile girl he needs to protect." Without waiting for permission, Auria strode over to her cupboard, rummaged through its contents, and pulled out a delicate negligee¡ªone so sheer and revealing that it left very little to the imagination. Ameriah''s face turned bright red in an instant. "T......This is too much, Auria!" she gasped, her voice breaking with sheer embarrassment. She could barely look at the garment, let alone imagine herself wearing it. If she showed up at Nathan''s door in something like this¡ªshe might as well outright ask him to take her to bed! "Sometimes, you have to go all out, Princess," Auria said seriously, holding the negligee up with an approving nod. "If you don''t, the Lord Commander will never see you as a woman." Ameriah nearly felt her legs give out beneath her. Her entire body burned with shame, and for a brief moment, she was convinced she might relapse into sickness just from sheer mortification alone. She hated this. It was humiliating. And yet... She swallowed hard, extending a trembling hand toward the garment, fingers brushing against the delicate fabric. Without a word, she took it from Auria, her face still flushed crimson, and nodded¡ªbarely able to contain her embarrassment. "Hurry up! I''ll help you with your appearance," Auria said, swiftly rising from her bed. Just as she was about to move, the door to her room creaked open slightly. Both Auria and Ameriah turned toward it, their gazes locking onto the narrow gap where the darkness of the corridor seeped through. "Carin, is that you?" Auria called out, assuming it was her personal maid. It was common for Carin to check on her at this hour, so Auria naturally thought it was her. But an unsettling silence answered her instead. No footsteps. No response. Nothing. Frowning, Auria hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the door. She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against the cold handle before she pulled it open wider. Nothing but shadows greeted her. The hallway beyond was pitch black, an eerie emptiness stretching into the unknown. "Strange... I''m certain I didn''t turn off the lights," Auria murmured under her breath, a flicker of unease settling in her chest. Shrugging it off, she turned away, intent on dismissing the odd occurrence. But before she could take more than a step, the lights in her room abruptly went out. Darkness swallowed everything. "Auria?" Ameriah''s voice rang out sharply, laced with growing dread. She stood up, her body tense, as if instinctively sensing something was wrong. Auria''s senses sharpened immediately. She didn''t hesitate¡ªher feet moved on their own, and she rushed toward the door, slamming it shut with force. "Don''t worry. If an intruder has entered, they won''t remain unnoticed for long," Auria said, her tone now cold and composed. Ameriah, however, was clearly unnerved. "Shouldn''t we warn the others?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, betraying her fear. "No," Auria replied firmly. "It''s too dangerous to step outside. We wait." She stood stiffly, her expression betraying none of her inner anxiety. Despite her young age, the weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders. She wasn''t just a noble girl¡ªshe was the daughter of a Duke. That came with duty, and right now, her foremost priority was Ameriah''s safety. Ameriah wasn''t just anyone¡ªshe was a royal princess. If something happened to her under Auria''s watch... Auria clenched her fists. Failure was not an option. "There''s no need to worry, Princess," Auria said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "My father is here. And the Lord Commander too." The mention of Nathan seemed to have an immediate effect on Ameriah. The fear in her eyes dulled slightly, her breathing slowing. That''s right. Nathan was here. As long as he was present, nothing could possibly happen to them. Or so they thought. A sharp gasp tore through the room. "Haaghh!!" Auria barely had time to react before she felt something¡ªhands, cold and firm, gripping her from behind. "Auria!" Ameriah cried, her face contorting in horror. She instinctively moved forward, but her steps halted abruptly. Her breath hitched as she watched in frozen terror. A figure had begun to materialize out of the void itself. The shadows twisted, forming the shape of something¡ªor someone¡ªunnatural. And it was standing right behind Auria. Ameriah froze completely, her breath catching in her throat as her wide, terrified eyes locked onto the sinister figure before her. A young man with dark, unruly hair stood behind Auria, his grip firm and unyielding as he held her in place. A twisted smirk played on his lips, his amusement barely concealed beneath a mocking snicker. He was clothed entirely in black, his presence exuding an ominous, suffocating aura. There was something unsettling about him¡ªsomething that sent a chill down Ameriah''s spine. "It''s too easy," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You demons are just as brainless as ever. Twenty years have passed, and you''re still as dumb as before." He let out a cruel laugh, his fingers tightening slightly around Auria''s shoulders. "L...Leave Auria!!" Ameriah shouted, her voice breaking as she clenched her fists. The young man turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable before he uttered a single, cold word. "No." Auria, still trapped in his grasp, inhaled sharply, her mind racing for a solution. "Are you the Hero who attacked us?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady. "In fact, yes," he replied nonchalantly. "I even warned your father and all of you, didn''t I? Yet, you all chose to ignore me. And now look where that''s gotten you." He let out another laugh, cruel and sharp. "Not only do I have you, but I also have the royal princess as my hostage. How fortunate for me." Auria''s expression darkened, her voice turning icy. "You''ll never be able to escape this place with us." The young man''s shoulders shook as he let out a derisive cackle. "Kahahaha! Are you stupid or just desperate? I entered your room as easily as I''ll leave it!" His laughter echoed, taunting and confident. Auria''s breath hitched. How...? How had he entered so easily? No one should have been able to bypass the layers of security surrounding this place. Yet, here he stood, unhindered and unbothered. If he truly had the means to escape just as effortlessly as he claimed, then this was beyond bad. Her stomach twisted in dread. "M...my father and the Lord Commander are here... they''ll kill you," she stammered, her voice betraying her rising panic. The Hero scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Lord Commander?" He let out a short, derisive laugh. "That guy is dead." Auria stiffened. He was referring to the previous Lord Commander. He had no idea about the current one. "And your father?" He continued, a wicked grin stretching across his face. "Who do you think I am? I''m one of the Heroes. Killing your father would be nothing more than an afterthought." Ameriah swallowed hard, her body trembling. She could feel herself unraveling. The weight of the situation pressed down on her like a crushing force, suffocating her resolve. "L...Let''s discuss," she tried, forcing the words out as she clenched her fists, willing herself to stay calm. But the Hero simply smirked. "No," he said flatly, his grip on Auria unwavering. "I had other plans initially. But now?" His gaze flickered between the two girls, amusement glinting in his eyes. "I''ve changed my mind. Turns out I''ve acquired some rather... valuable hostages." Then, slowly, deliberately, he licked his lips. A visible shiver ran down Ameriah''s spine. Auria''s heart pounded violently in her chest. This was bad. Very bad. Chapter 350: Ameriah and Auria disappeared! Morning had gently unfurled over the grand castle of Breistan, casting golden hues upon its towering spires and pristine white stone. The city below was slowly stirring to life, merchants setting up their stalls, knights beginning their morning drills, and nobles preparing for another day of politics and pleasantries. It was a peaceful dawn, much like any other. But peace is fragile. Within the castle walls, a sense of routine dictated the lives of those who served. Among them was Auria''s personal maid, a woman who had long since learned her lady''s habits. Auria was the very embodiment of discipline¡ªalways the first to rise, the first to prepare, never needing a reminder or a wake-up call. With the esteemed Princess Ameriah staying under their roof, Auria had been even more diligent in her responsibilities. That was why, when the maid found no sign of her mistress stirring past her usual hour, an unsettling feeling coiled within her chest. At first, she reasoned that perhaps the young ladies had simply stayed awake far too long, immersed in their studies or quiet conversation. But as time dragged on, and the sun climbed higher in the sky, concern turned to unease. Knocking gently on the grand wooden doors of Auria''s chamber, the maid called out in a soft yet firm voice. "My lady? Lady Auria, it is time to rise." Silence. The maid''s fingers tightened around the tray she carried. That was unusual. Auria was always prompt in responding. She knocked again, harder this time. "Lady Auria? Princess Ameriah?" Still, no response. An invisible weight settled upon her shoulders, pressing her pulse into a quickened rhythm. Deciding against further hesitation, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Her breath caught. The room was empty. The grand bed, with its silk sheets, was untouched¡ªno signs of struggle, no haphazardly tossed blankets, no discarded slippers nearby. The air was still, undisturbed, as if no one had slept there at all. Dread slithered up her spine. Forcing herself to remain composed, she hurriedly exited the room and sought out the nearest castle staff, questioning them one by one. Had anyone seen Lady Auria or Princess Ameriah leaving their chambers? Had they perhaps gone for an early stroll, escorted by the knights? Were they in the gardens, the library, anywhere? But the answers were all the same. No one had seen them. Not a single guard had reported them leaving. No maid had assisted them in dressing for the day. No stable hand had prepared horses for an early departure. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. A cold, sharp panic clawed at her chest. Wasting no more time, she rushed to the Duke''s chambers and delivered the dreadful news. Nakon, Duke of Breistan, listened in silence. For a long moment, he did not speak, did not move. The room seemed to darken around him, though the morning sun still shone outside. His daughter... was missing? And not just his daughter, but Princess Ameriah¡ªthe younger sister of the Queen, a royal guest entrusted to his care? No. It couldn''t be. Refusing to believe the worst, he commanded his knights to scour the entire castle and the surrounding lands. Every hall, every corridor, every secret passage was searched. Every stable, every garden, every chamber that could be hiding the two young women. Riders were sent to comb the city streets, questioning merchants, commoners, and travelers. Hours passed. Nothing. There was only one answer. Kidnapped. The realization was like ice flooding his veins. Auria was responsible, intelligent¡ªshe would never disappear without a word. She would never act recklessly, nor would the Princess. They had not left willingly. Someone had taken them. And the worst part? There had been no signs. No struggle. No alarms raised. Whoever had done this had done so with such precision and stealth that no one in the castle had noticed until it was too late. Nakon clenched his fists. His daughter. The Queen''s sister. Gone. And Breistan, for all its strength, had failed to protect them. The weight of failure pressed heavily upon Duke Nakon''s shoulders, suffocating and relentless. The moment he realized that not a single soul in the castle had seen or heard anything of his daughter or Princess Ameriah, it felt as though his very essence had been drained from him. His worst fears had materialized into reality, and he had no answers, no solutions¡ªonly a sickening, hollow despair. But now, there was something even more terrifying than his own helplessness. He had to tell him. Nathan. Lord Commander of Tenebria. Nakon''s breath was unsteady as he delivered the grave news. His voice trembled despite his efforts to remain composed. As he spoke, fear clawed at his throat, tightening with every word. He could only imagine the fury, the devastation, the retribution that would follow. It was still morning when Nathan was informed of the catastrophe. The Lord Commander stood in the grand hall, his presence an overwhelming force. The towering pillars and regal banners did little to soften the sheer intensity that radiated from him. Nakon was there as well, though the Duke did not even bother to take his seat upon his throne. He could not bring himself to sit in the face of such an unforgivable disaster. His complexion was deathly pale, his expression twisted in silent horror. There was no justification, no excuse¡ªhe had failed. And now, he awaited judgment. Nathan stood motionless, listening in chilling silence as Nakon recounted every agonizing detail. When the words Ameriah is gone left the Duke''s lips, the atmosphere in the hall shifted into something unbearable. A suffocating, unnatural cold spread through the room. Nathan''s golden, demonic eyes darkened with something inhuman, their glow intensifying as they fixed upon the Duke. It felt as though those eyes alone could consume him, devour him whole in a storm of unseen wrath. Nakon shuddered. The nobles standing behind him, observing the exchange, did the same. They felt it, too¡ªthat crushing, predatory pressure exuding from the Lord Commander. Nathan was angry. No, furious. Yet, his fury was not entirely directed at Nakon. The Duke was powerless in this¡ªthe entire castle had been blind to the disappearance. He could not blame him for something that no one, not even he himself, had detected. That was what truly enraged him. How had this happened without him noticing? Nathan had spent the night with Scylla, but that should not have mattered. His awareness should have caught something, some trace of disturbance, some shift in the air. Scylla should have sensed it, too. And yet¡ªnothing. No warnings. No signs. No lingering aura. Someone had stolen Ameriah away from under his nose with absolute, terrifying precision. Before him, Nakon trembled. His voice broke as he lowered his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I... I deeply apologize, Lord Commander," the Duke choked out, his words barely above a whisper. "I will accept any punishment you see fit." But even as he spoke, his thoughts were drowning in panic. His daughter. His only daughter. Where was she? Was she safe? Was she terrified? Was she¡ª No. He refused to think beyond that. The nobles behind him barely dared to breathe. Their expressions ranged from fear to sheer anxiety as they waited for Nathan''s reaction, for his verdict. The tension in the room was suffocating, unbearable. Yet, Nathan said nothing. The silence stretched, heavy and unrelenting, pressing down upon everyone present like an unspoken sentence of doom. And then, finally, he spoke. "Do not let the information leave the city." His voice was sharp, absolute. The nobles blinked, exchanging confused glances, but none dared to question him. Nathan turned slightly, his gaze cold and calculating. "Do not inform Azariah either. Keep this secret for as long as you possibly can." He offered no further explanation. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, his cloak billowing behind him like the shadow of an approaching storm. Nakon stood frozen, his mind reeling. He didn''t fully understand why Nathan had ordered secrecy, but relief¡ªsmall, fleeting relief¡ªwashed over him. At least for now, he did not have to face the weight of the world knowing they had failed to protect a Princess of the realm. Nathan stepped out of the grand hall, his expression carved from ice. His footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, each one measured and deliberate. A storm brewed within his mind. How had it happened without him noticing? For someone like him, who was always vigilant, always prepared, this was unacceptable. But as the pieces fell into place, he understood. "A Hero Skill," Nathan muttered under his breath, his sharp eyes narrowing. "He must have used his Main Skill¡ªor at the very least, a high-ranking one¡ªto bypass the castle''s defenses without a single soul sensing his presence. No doubt, he also used it to leave just as silently. And before vanishing, he forced them to follow him." His voice carried a deadly calm, laced with certainty. A soft gust of wind swirled beside him, and in the next moment, a figure materialized from the shadows. It was Scylla. "Sorry, Nate." Her voice was tinged with frustration, her red eyes dark with disappointment. "I searched everywhere, but there''s no sign of them. No traces left behind." She crossed her arms, her brows knitting together. Nathan cast her a sidelong glance. Of course, she wouldn''t find anything. Hero Skills weren''t something an ordinary tracker could perceive. Unlike normal abilities, they defied logic, bending the very fabric of reality itself. Scylla, despite her talents, was unaware of the extent of their power. "Don''t worry," Nathan said, his lips curling into a faint smirk, though his eyes remained unreadable. "I have better ways." Because unlike others, he wasn''t helpless. He wasn''t blind. He possessed the Eye of Odin¡ªan ability that allowed him to perceive truths hidden from the ordinary eye. And paired with the Vision of Artemis. Nathan could definitely find them. Chapter 351: Searching Ameriah and Auria "Should I call Medea? Maybe she could help?" Scylla asked, her voice trailing after Nathan as they stepped outside the castle, the cool night air brushing against them. Nathan didn''t break stride. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unreadable. "No, there''s no need," he said firmly. Scylla frowned slightly but said nothing. It was true that Medea, the most gifted sorceress in the world, wielded magic powerful enough to shake the very foundations of reality. With the right spells, she could potentially trace even the faintest remnants of Hero Skills, weaving through layers of concealment that others wouldn''t even perceive. Given time, she could likely accomplish what no ordinary mage could. But Nathan had already decided. He didn''t need Medea for this. He had his own ways. "You stay here, just in case," Nathan ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Scylla narrowed her eyes. "Why?" She didn''t like this. Not one bit. Nathan''s steps slowed, and he turned slightly toward her. "That Hero may have allies. If they exist, they could take advantage of my absence and attack Breistan," he explained evenly. Scylla scoffed, folding her arms. "Who cares about that town? Ameriah isn''t here anymore." Her voice was cold, dismissive, void of concern for the fate of Breistan. If it fell into ruin, it wouldn''t matter to her in the slightest. What she did care about, however, was him¡ªNathan. She knew he didn''t give a damn about Breistan either. His only reason for being here was because of the Hero of the Second summoning. So why did he suddenly care enough to leave her behind to guard a town that meant nothing to him? "Scylla." Nathan''s sharp gaze locked onto her. She clenched her fists. "Why did you even bring me if not to accompany you until the end? Just to have me protect people I don''t give a damn about?" she muttered, sulking. Nathan sighed, his voice firm yet calm. "I brought you because you are one of my Black Knights¡ªthe ones I trust the most." His words carried weight, an unshakable truth. "And I''m not leaving you behind to protect Breistan. Your mission is different." Scylla tilted her head slightly, intrigued despite herself. "If any Heroes appear, I want you to capture them. Alive." That was all she needed to know. Nathan didn''t give a damn about Breistan. If it burned, it burned. He wouldn''t have even set foot in this place had he not received word of a Hero of the Second Summoning appearing. That was his only reason for being here. Because he had questions. And he intended to get answers. All these years... what had they been doing? Why did they run? Were they all still alive? He needed to know. And he wouldn''t stop until he had the truth. Hearing Nathan speak about how much he trusted her, Scylla felt an unexpected warmth rise to her cheeks. She wasn''t the type to get flustered easily, but this¡ªhis unwavering faith in her¡ªwas something else entirely. He was truly serious about it. Nathan had carefully selected her, along with Medea and Charybdis, as his most trusted knights. The three of them were meant to stand by his side, no matter the battlefield, no matter the domain, until the very end. That trust was not something he gave lightly, and Scylla understood the weight of his words. After a brief moment of contemplation, she exhaled and gave him a firm nod. "Fine. I''ll do it for you." With that, she turned and left, her footsteps fading into the distance. Now alone, Nathan ascended into the sky, his body cutting through the air like a wraith as he soared above Breistan. The wind howled around him, rustling his clothes, but he barely paid it any mind. He had a task at hand. He landed atop the highest building within the city, his piercing gaze scanning the vast landscape beyond the towering walls. From this vantage point, he could see everything¡ªthe sprawling forests, the jagged cliffs, and the distant roads snaking through the land like veins. Somewhere out there, the Hero who had kidnapped his people had disappeared. Nathan narrowed his eyes. It was highly likely that the Hero had used some kind of skill to slip away unnoticed. Teleportation, stealth, or perhaps something even more esoteric¡ªthere were countless ways to vanish without a trace. But no matter what trick was used, every escape had a destination. The Hero had to be somewhere. The most logical assumption was that he had gone to a safe haven, a place to rest or regroup after fleeing. A hideout wouldn''t be too close to Breistan¡ªbeing within reach of pursuit would be foolish¡ªbut it also wouldn''t be so far that the Hero couldn''t return swiftly if necessary. Nathan let his gaze wander over the horizon, searching for anything that stood out. But the truth was, there were too many possibilities. A dense forest could easily conceal a shelter, an abandoned ruin could serve as a temporary base, and the mountains in the far distance could house any number of hidden caves. The options were too vast, too uncertain. He needed something more. Without hesitation, Nathan activated one of his most powerful abilities¡ªEye of Odin. The moment he did, a radiant golden glow ignited in his left eye, illuminating the world in an entirely different way. SSS-Rank. A skill that granted him the power to peer through illusions, to pierce the veil of hidden truths, and most importantly, to see the remnants of other abilities left behind. Normally, he used it to analyze the status and skills of those around him, a particularly invaluable tool when dealing with Heroes. But this time, he wasn''t searching for an enemy''s status. This time, he was looking for something much more elusive¡ªthe remnants of a Hero Skill. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack, but Nathan wasn''t relying on ordinary means. The Eye of Odin was precise, a force beyond human comprehension. If an ability as powerful as a Hero Skill had been used in the vicinity, even faint traces of it would still linger in the fabric of reality. All he had to do was find it. His golden eye flickered, scanning the land with unerring precision. The ordinary world faded into the background as layers of magic and unseen forces unraveled before him. Somewhere out there, amidst the vast expanse, was the answer he sought. It took Nathan a moment before his sharp eyes detected the faint remnants of an unusual magic signature lingering in the air. Unlike the darker aura commonly exuded by Demons, this magic was distinct¡ªsomething foreign yet unmistakably powerful. It was an anomaly, an irregularity amidst the residual traces of battle. Without hesitation, Nathan propelled himself forward, his body slicing through the air at staggering speed. Miles blurred past in mere seconds until he reached his destination¡ªan unassuming forest shrouded in silence. He landed with precision, his boots pressing against the soft earth, sending a ripple through the surrounding foliage. At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. The trees stood tall and undisturbed, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The air carried only the usual scents of damp earth and old bark. But Nathan wasn''t deceived by mere appearances. Activating his Eye of Odin, his golden gaze swept over the area, dissecting every minute detail with inhuman precision. His piercing vision revealed it¡ªan almost imperceptible aura clinging to a peculiar tree in the center of the clearing. The traces of the Hero''s magic were faint but undeniable, wrapping around the tree like invisible threads of energy. Nathan approached cautiously, placing a gloved hand against the rough bark. His fingers traced its ridges, feeling the texture, the subtle imperfections, yet... there was nothing immediately unusual. No hidden mechanisms, no obvious enchantments. Yet he knew better than to trust his normal senses alone. He circled the tree, his sharp eyes scanning every inch, and then he saw it¡ªsomething small, half-buried in the grass. Crouching down, he carefully picked up a single earring. It was delicate, crafted with intricate silverwork. It didn''t belong to Ameriah, that much was certain. But it looked strikingly similar to the ones Auria had worn. Nathan narrowed his eyes. If she left this here... there must be a reason. Straightening up, he stepped back and regarded the tree with renewed scrutiny. He wasn''t the type to second-guess his instincts. If something felt off, it was off. Taking a deep breath, he raised his leg and delivered a sharp, powerful kick to the tree. BADAAAM! A violent shockwave erupted from the impact, sending a tremor through the ground. Leaves rustled, smaller trees nearby bent backward under the force, and birds scattered into the sky in startled panic. Yet the tree he had struck stood unmoved, untouched, as if his kick had done nothing at all. Nathan smirked. "You''ve got some interesting tricks, I''ll give you that." His voice carried an amused edge, but his golden eyes glowed with a quiet intensity. Had it not been for the Eye of Odin, this place might have remained hidden forever, and with it, any clues about Ameriah''s and Auria''s whereabouts. Unfortunately for whoever had set this up, Nathan was not an ordinary Hero. Dark energy coiled around his fist like living shadows, crackling with raw power. The very air grew heavy with his presence, an oppressive force that sent another ripple of unease through the forest. The animals that had been cautiously watching from a distance fled in terror. Birds shrieked as they abandoned their perches, vanishing into the sky. Even the insects seemed to have disappeared, as if nature itself was recoiling from what was about to happen. Nathan''s golden eyes darkened, the cold glint of a predator flashing in them. Then, with a single decisive motion, he struck. BADAAAAAM!!! The moment his fist connected with the tree, the resistance was palpable. The bark twisted unnaturally, bending as if desperately trying to hold its shape. But it was already too late. The darkness enveloped the trunk, seeping into every crevice, corrupting its very essence. And then¡ª BADOOOOM! The tree exploded, its fragments scattering like shattered glass. A cloud of dust and debris billowed outward before slowly settling. And in the aftermath, only one thing remained. Nathan''s gaze dropped to the ground, where an intricate magic circle was now fully visible, traced with glowing inscriptions. His lips curled into a smirk. "Found you." Without hesitation, he stepped forward. The moment his foot touched the circle, the air around him distorted. In an instant, he was gone¡ªswallowed whole by the unknown. Chapter 352: Finding Ameriah and Auria When Nathan''s vision gradually returned, the first thing that greeted him was an oppressive darkness, thick and murky like a fog that refused to dissipate. The air was damp, carrying the scent of earth and moss, and he could hear the distant sound of water dripping onto stone, echoing through the space. It didn''t take him long to realize he was inside a cave¡ªone hidden away from the world, shrouded in secrecy. His instincts sharpened, and without hesitation, he activated Vision of Artemis. His irises glowed faintly as the ability enhanced his sight, piercing through the gloom. Shapes and figures came into focus, their auras flickering like flames against the darkness. Three presences. Among them, one stood out¡ªfamiliar, unmistakable. Ameriah. He recognized her aura instantly, a presence he had long since committed to memory, just like the others back at the castle. She was here. And she wasn''t alone. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã Inside the small, suffocating chamber, Ameriah and Auria huddled together, their bodies tense with unease. The dim light of a flickering lantern barely illuminated the rough stone walls, casting jagged shadows that only added to the ominous atmosphere. The air was stale, thick with the scent of unwashed bodies and desperation. A man paced in front of them, his movements restless, erratic. Despite being their captor, he seemed more anxious than they were¡ªhis agitation seeping from every trembling step. His disheveled dark brown hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. His frame was gaunt, almost skeletal, as if he hadn''t eaten properly in weeks. Heavy rings of exhaustion shadowed his sunken eyes, making it clear he hadn''t slept in a long time. His clothes were ragged, torn at the edges, stained with dirt and grime. His breathing was uneven, bordering on frantic. "How much longer...?" he muttered under his breath before suddenly snapping. "H-How much longer do I have to wait?!" he barked, his voice breaking into a shout. Ameriah flinched, letting out a startled yelp. Beside her, Auria tightened her grip on Ameriah''s hand, her gaze locking onto the man with defiance. Though fear gripped her heart, she refused to show weakness. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice unwavering despite the tension coiling in her stomach. "Do you think you can just kidnap me and the Princess of Tenebria and get away with it?" The man stilled. For a moment, there was silence. Then, without warning, he threw his head back and let out a sharp, unsettling laugh. "Nahaha... HAHAHAHA!" The crazed cackle echoed through the cave, sending chills down their spines. As he stepped closer, both girls instinctively backed away, their hands gripping each other for support¡ªonly to find themselves trapped against the rough stone wall behind them. His eyes gleamed with madness as he grinned down at them. "Do you have any idea who I am?" he sneered, his voice filled with unhinged arrogance. "I am the legendary Hero of the Empire of Light¡ªBenjamin Clark! Chosen by the Gods themselves!" He spread his arms wide as if declaring his divine authority. "You are NOTHING before me!" Auria''s expression twisted into one of disbelief and wariness. A hero? This? She had expected a formidable warrior, someone noble, strong, unwavering. But what stood before her was a man barely clinging to sanity¡ªa wreck of a person who looked more like a vagrant than a champion. But despite his ragged state, there was something far more terrifying than his appearance¡ª The fact that he hadn''t done anything to them yet. For all his erratic behavior, his ranting, his aggression¡ªhe hadn''t made a single move to harm them. And that was what unsettled her the most. Because it meant he was waiting for something. Or someone. And whatever it was... It couldn''t be good. "W-We also have a Hero!" Ameriah spoke up, her voice trembling slightly but firm in conviction. "Samael will find us!" At the mention of the name, Benjamin''s lips curled into a mocking sneer. "Hero?" he scoffed, tilting his head as if he had misheard her. "The Hero of Darkness," Auria interjected coldly, her violet eyes flashing with defiance. "The Hero of Tenebria. He won''t show you any mercy." For a moment, there was silence. Then¡ª "Ghahahaha!" Benjamin threw his head back and burst into another fit of laughter, his voice echoing eerily through the cavern''s walls. The unhinged amusement in his tone sent a chill down Ameriah''s spine. "Hero of Darkness? Hero of Tenebria?" he repeated, wiping a tear from his eye as he struggled to contain his derision. "Since when did these demons have a Hero of their own?!" He spat the words with disgust. His eyes glinted dangerously as he stepped closer, forcing Auria and Ameriah to inch back against the damp stone wall. "The only so-called Heroes those wretched creatures ever had," he continued, voice laced with venom, "were the ones from the Empire of Light! The ones who foolishly chose to fight alongside the Demon King! And look where it got them¡ªthey were stupid." His words rang with absolute certainty, as though he were speaking a fundamental truth. Yet, unknown to him, reality had shifted. Benjamin remained blissfully unaware that the world had changed in his absence. He had no knowledge that Tenebria had summoned a Hero of their own. He had no idea that other kingdoms had begun conducting their own summoning rituals. For nearly two decades, the Empire of Light had been the sole nation to summon Heroes. No other kingdom had dared to follow suit¡ªuntil they realized the overwhelming power these summoned warriors possessed. It was only two years ago that the balance shifted, that other nations sought to claim their own champions. But Benjamin had been left behind. He was a relic of the past, a man trapped in the echoes of a world that no longer existed. Ameriah and Auria exchanged a brief, uncertain glance. His words made no sense. "Heroes of the Light Empire... siding with the Demon King?" That was an event from twenty years ago. A battle long since buried in the annals of history. "Why is he speaking as if it just happened?" Before either of them could voice their confusion, Benjamin suddenly stopped pacing. His expression shifted, his eyes widening¡ªnot in madness, but in joy. "Finally!" His voice was filled with an almost childlike excitement as he extended a hand toward the air beside them. A terrible sensation coiled in the pit of Ameriah''s stomach. Auria''s breath hitched. The very space next to them ripped open. A swirling, luminous gateway emerged from the void, its edges shimmering like liquid silver. The force of its creation sent a powerful gust of wind throughout the cramped chamber, the very fabric of reality distorting around its entrance. The unnatural pull of the portal tugged at their clothes, as if attempting to consume them. Both girls recoiled instinctively. "Jump inside. Now." Benjamin''s voice was no longer amused¡ªit was cold, unwavering, absolute. His previously erratic demeanor was gone, replaced by sheer authority. "N-No..." Auria shook her head, her entire body rejecting the idea. A deep, primal fear slithered through her veins, warning her that stepping into that gate would be a mistake¡ªan irreversible one. She took a step back, pulling Ameriah with her. But the cavern was too small. There was nowhere to run. "I said jump inside!" Benjamin''s voice exploded into a furious roar. A sharp, metallic shing cut through the air. The glint of a blade flashed before their eyes. Auria''s breath caught in her throat. Benjamin had drawn a sword, its edge mere inches from her throat. His grip was steady, his wild eyes glaring down at them with lethal intent. "I need you alive," he said, his voice quiet yet laced with unmistakable malice. "But I don''t need you in one piece." Both Auria and Ameriah stiffened, a cold dread washing over them. Under his piercing gaze and the deadly gleam of his blade, they had no choice. With hesitant, trembling steps, they inched toward the swirling void. But a sudden presence disrupted the tense atmosphere, sending an invisible tremor through the air. A figure emerged from the shadows. Benjamin''s body stiffened as his instincts screamed at him. His head snapped around, eyes widening in disbelief as they landed upon the one person he least expected to see. "Samael!" "Lord Commander!" But while Benjamin was paralyzed by the impossible sight, two voices rang out in unison, filled with joy and relief. Ameriah and Auria cried out, their eyes lighting up with hope as they beheld Samael. He had come. Against all odds, against all logic¡ªhe had arrived. They could hardly believe it. Benjamin, however, stood frozen, his mind racing. How? This place should have been impenetrable. He had covered his tracks flawlessly, ensuring that no outsider could ever follow him. The tree¡ªan ancient and untraceable gateway¡ªshould have been the ultimate safeguard. Even if someone had managed to locate the right one, breaking through its barrier should have been impossible. And yet, Samael stood before him, a living contradiction to everything he believed. A cold voice shattered his thoughts. "How many are you?" Benjamin''s breath hitched as his gaze snapped to Nathan. "W...What?" Nathan took a slow step forward, his golden eyes glinting with an eerie light. "I asked," he repeated, voice laced with cold steel, "how many of you bastards from the second summoning survived?" Benjamin remained silent. He wanted to scoff, to mock the question, but for some inexplicable reason, his voice refused to come out. His fingers tightened around his sword hilt, sweat beading along his forehead. A gnawing unease settled deep within his chest, something foreign... something akin to fear. Why? He was a Hero. He was supposed to be powerful. No one in the entire kingdom of Tenebria should be able to strike such fear into his heart. And yet¡ª His instincts screamed. Without hesitation, Benjamin swung his sword in a desperate move, unleashing a powerful wave of magic that carved through the air like a silver crescent. The force of the attack sent Ameriah and Auria hurtling backward, straight toward the swirling portal behind them. "Hyaaaaa!!" "S...Samael!!" Their voices cried out, fading as their bodies were swallowed by the glowing rift. Nathan''s gaze flickered, a sharp glint passing through his golden irises. Without a moment''s pause, he moved. No¡ªhe vanished. Benjamin barely had time to process what had happened. Before he could react, he felt a crushing grip close around his arm. "Wha¡ª?!" His body lurched as he was yanked backward, his momentum disrupted before he could follow the others into the portal. Panic surged through him as he looked down¡ªNathan''s fingers dug into his arm like a vice, refusing to let go. The portal was closing. A thin sliver of light was all that remained, and Benjamin could feel his body being pulled toward the vanishing rift. But so was Nathan. "I... Impossible!!" Benjamin gasped, struggling to break free. Nathan''s grip only tightened, his golden eyes now burning with a deep, ominous glow. His fingers, crushing inhumanly strong, bore down on Benjamin''s arm like an executioner''s shackles. Benjamin gritted his teeth and twisted, wrenching his body violently. In a last-ditch effort, he managed to slip free, his arm tearing out of Nathan''s grasp. And then¡ªhe was gone. But Nathan didn''t stop. His arm shot forward, plunging into the rapidly closing portal without hesitation. The energy rippled dangerously, crackling with unstable force. The risk of losing his arm was real¡ªany sane person would have pulled back. But Nathan wasn''t thinking about safety. He wasn''t thinking at all. He released his magic. A monstrous wave of pure darkness erupted from his body, pouring into the rift with overwhelming force. BA-DOOOOOM! The very air quaked. The portal, instead of sealing, twisted and contorted as shadows consumed it. Then¡ª It detonated. A cataclysmic explosion of void energy swallowed Nathan whole. And then, silence. The cave was left in eerie stillness, as if reality itself held its breath. And Nathan was gone. Chapter 353: Desert Nathan barely had time to process the explosion that had engulfed him before he felt himself being transported. This was no ordinary place¡ªhe knew it instinctively. The air, the atmosphere, the very sensation in his bones told him he had been pulled somewhere far removed from the battlefield where he last stood. For what felt like an eternity, he drifted through an unseen void, weightless and disoriented. Then, abruptly, he landed with a harsh thud. The ground beneath him was not solid stone nor cool earth, but something coarse and scorching. Sand. Burning sand. The heat seared through his clothing, and as he instinctively turned onto his back, his vision was assaulted by an unforgiving, blinding light. A relentless sun blazed above, its golden fury scorching everything beneath it. Nathan groaned, lifting a hand to shield his eyes as he struggled to sit up. Sweat already beaded on his forehead, the sweltering air making it difficult to breathe. "Where... am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. As his vision adjusted, he took in the vast expanse around him. An endless desert stretched in every direction, dunes rolling like frozen waves beneath the oppressive heat. There was nothing but sand, sky, and a distant shimmer on the horizon where the air itself seemed to ripple from the heat. One thing was certain¡ªhe was nowhere near Ameriah or Auria anymore. He had no doubt that he was still on the same world, but the portal had clearly malfunctioned, flinging him to some unknown region. Had it been an accident? Or had someone tampered with the teleportation magic? Pushing himself to his feet, Nathan winced as the scorching sand threatened to burn through his boots. He took a slow, steadying breath before choosing a direction at random. Staying put would accomplish nothing¡ªhe needed to find civilization, people, anything that could tell him where he had landed. However, something felt off. Khione. He couldn''t sense her. His bond with the goddess, one that should have been unbreakable, was eerily silent. No whisper of her presence, no distant connection lingering in the back of his mind. It was as if their link had been severed entirely. Why? Nathan frowned, a sense of unease settling in his chest. Was it the location itself disrupting their connection? Or was something far more sinister at play? Brushing aside his growing concern, he pressed on, his feet sinking slightly into the sand with each step. The landscape was monotonous, unchanging, and oppressive. The sun was merciless, draining his strength faster than expected. He was beginning to wonder how long he could last in this heat when, finally, he saw movement in the distance. A group of people. Relief flooded through him, but he hesitated as he took a closer look. Something about the sight made him stop his steps.. The men before him were shirtless, their skin deeply tanned from exposure to the sun. They wore only simple white cloths wrapped around their lower bodies, and they moved with slow, agonized steps. Eight of them struggled beneath the weight of an enormous chariot, their backs bowed as they carried it through the desert. Their bodies glistened with sweat, muscles straining with each labored movement. Accompanying them were several soldiers clad in shimmering golden armor, intricate patterns and embellishments marking them as something beyond mere foot soldiers. Their posture was rigid, their presence exuding an air of superiority as they marched alongside the struggling men. Nathan''s gaze flickered to the grand chariot being carried upon their shoulders. It was opulent, its frame adorned with gold and precious stones that caught the sunlight. Whoever was inside was no ordinary traveler¡ªthis was the transport of someone with wealth, power, and unquestioned authority. A noble? A ruler? The sight before him was unmistakable¡ªthis was slavery. And from the way the soldiers carried themselves, it was not an uncommon practice here. This world continued to surprise him, but this? This was something he had not yet seen. Nathan, however, found himself utterly indifferent to the scene before him. The harsh realities of this world were not his concern¡ªnot right now. His sole priority was gathering information. These people, regardless of their status, were potential sources of knowledge. And so, without hesitation, he strode toward them. As he drew closer, the group finally took notice of him. The soldiers, ever-vigilant, reacted instantly. In a synchronized motion, they formed a defensive line between him and the chariot, their hands gripping the hilts of their swords. "Who are you?!" one of them barked, his voice edged with suspicion. Behind them, the burdened men seized the unexpected distraction as an opportunity to collapse onto their knees, gasping for breath. Their exhaustion was evident, their bodies trembling from strain, but their gazes remained fixed on Nathan, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Unlike them, Nathan''s presence was an anomaly. His skin was pale, untouched by the relentless sun that had darkened theirs. His posture was unbothered, his demeanor unshaken by the heat. The fine fabric of his black clothing, unmarred by the elements, only reinforced the impression that he was of noble blood. The soldiers, though wary, exercised caution¡ªhe could be someone of importance, and they dared not act recklessly. "What is happening out there?!" A sharp, irritated voice rang out from within the grand chariot. Moments later, the curtains were thrown aside, revealing the man within. His tanned skin and elaborate garments, adorned with shimmering gold and fine embroidery, immediately set him apart from the soldiers. Bracelets of silver and necklaces of polished gems dangled from his wrists and neck, and his expression¡ªone of initial irritation¡ªshifted to scrutiny the moment his eyes landed on Nathan. His frown deepened. A stranger. An obvious outsider. Then, as if struck by inspiration, his lips curled into a smirk. "Capture him," he ordered without hesitation, his voice laced with amusement. "He looks... valuable." Nathan''s features were unlike anything the noble had ever seen. Even among high-born lords, none bore such striking looks. And if his attire was any indication, he was no mere commoner. A rare find indeed. If he managed to seize him, the profit he could gain from selling him off would be astronomical. At his command, the soldiers exchanged knowing glances. Grins tugged at their lips as they stepped forward, their predatory eyes gleaming with anticipation. Nathan remained unfazed. Instead, he met their approach with a cold, piercing gaze. "Tell me where I am," he demanded, his voice devoid of warmth. "Do so, and I will let you live." He had no desire to waste time. Until he determined his exact location and reunited with Ameriah and Auria, unnecessary conflict was best avoided. Yet, his words were met with nothing but amusement. The noble chuckled under his breath, and his men openly sneered. There was no intention of answering him, no inclination to entertain his demand. They advanced with smug confidence, certain of their dominance. Nathan exhaled, his patience dissipating like sand in the wind. "I warned you." In an instant, he vanished. Before they could react, a sudden, biting cold filled the air. A violent frost spread in a flash, enveloping the armored soldiers where they stood. The laughter, the mockery, the arrogance¡ªall of it ceased in a heartbeat. Nathan reappeared at the very center of their formation, unscathed, untouched. The soldiers remained motionless. Their bodies, their weapons, their very breaths¡ªeverything was frozen solid. The noble''s smirk crumbled, his expression twisting into sheer horror as he realized the terrifying truth. He had gravely underestimated his prey. Nathan''s voice was cold as he took a deliberate step forward. "I am going to ask you one last time now." The noble recoiled instinctively, his body trembling with fear. Beads of sweat dripped down his tanned face as he realized the futility of resistance. His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed onto his knees, hands raised in desperate supplication. "P-Please!" he stammered, his voice quivering with terror. "Spare me!" Nathan merely stared down at him, his expression devoid of emotion. "In which country am I?" For a moment, the noble was utterly dumbfounded. Was this man seriously asking such a question? He didn''t even know where he was? Nathan''s gaze darkened. Sensing the growing impatience in those piercing eyes, the noble hastily sputtered out an answer. "T..The Sun Empire! The Empire of Amun Ra!" Silence followed. Nathan did not react immediately, his cold gaze betraying nothing of the storm that raged within. The Empire of Amun Ra? "How the hell is that possible?" he muttered under his breath, his brows furrowing deeply. He had been transported this far? More importantly, why had that man sent him here? Why had Ameriah and Auria been taken to this specific empire? The sheer improbability of it left Nathan with more questions than answers. Nothing about this situation made sense. "P...Please leave! I beg you¡ª!" The noble''s plea was cut short by a sharp gasp. A crystalline blade of ice had pierced his chest, its glacial surface glinting under the relentless sun. The noble''s mouth hung open, a gurgled breath escaping as his body trembled violently. Then, with a final shudder, he collapsed, lifeless. Nathan withdrew his sword without hesitation, allowing the corpse to crumple into the sand. He did not spare it another glance. The man had been scum¡ªhis existence meant nothing to him. A collective gasp erupted from the gathered slaves. Their eyes widened in horror, their bodies shaking as they instinctively stepped back. The raw fear in their expressions was palpable, but Nathan remained unmoved. "Leave." His voice carried a chilling finality. For a brief moment, the slaves exchanged uncertain glances before turning on their heels and bolting into the vast desert, their feet kicking up the golden sand as they fled. Nathan then turned his attention to the frozen soldiers, his gaze devoid of mercy. With a flick of his wrist, the ice encasing their bodies shattered, releasing them from their frozen prison. The soldiers collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, their faces ashen with terror. "The nearest city," Nathan demanded, his voice cutting through their trembling silence. "Where is it?" One of the soldiers, barely able to form words, stammered, "A...Alexandria! The capital!" Nathan was silent. Alexandria. The heart of the Amun Ra Empire. His expression remained unreadable, but inwardly, his mind was racing. This was bad. This was worse than bad. He was deep within enemy territory. The Amun Ra Empire was openly hostile toward Tenebria, and by now, his face was far too recognizable. If he were caught, he would not be given the luxury of negotiation. Without hesitation, Nathan''s appearance began to shift. His signature white hair darkened into a deep, raven black, and his piercing eyes turned a striking shade of blue. Within moments, his features had altered entirely, now resembling that of Heiron. He turned toward the now-abandoned chariot, his new identity seamlessly in place. Without a word, he climbed inside, settling into the cushioned interior. His cold gaze drifted to the soldiers, who still knelt in the sand, barely able to meet his eyes. "Take me there." Chapter 354: Nathan arrives to Alexandria The name Alexandria resonated deeply within Nathan''s mind, stirring memories of a distant past. Even before setting foot in this world, he had learned about the legendary city on Earth¡ªone founded by none other than Alexander the Great. A place of wisdom, culture, and power. Now, he entered through its grand gates without hesitation, without shame, and without the burden of guilt. The noble whose life he had extinguished had been stripped of everything¡ªwealth, dignity, and most importantly, the symbols of his status. Nathan now possessed the emblems of Alexandria''s high nobility, including a badge that bore the insignia of the Pharaoh himself. In the Empire of Amun Ra, the Pharaoh was not merely a ruler¡ªhe was an embodiment of divine will, a living god among men. To hold a badge bearing his seal was to wield an influence that few could challenge. The Emperor, despite his young age of fourteen, was undoubtedly powerful. Perhaps not the strongest in the empire¡ªnot yet¡ªbut those who held the strings of power behind the throne? They were the true titans of this land. As the carriage rumbled through the streets, the guards who had once sought his life now escorted him through the heart of Alexandria. He shifted slightly, peering through the narrow window, his gaze drinking in the cityscape that unfolded before him. It was magnificent. A city that breathed history, alive in a way no other place he had ever seen could compare. It was colossal, stretching far beyond the horizon, its ivory-colored buildings standing tall under the sun''s golden embrace. Massive pillars adorned with intricate hieroglyphs lined the streets, whispering silent tales of forgotten glories. The streets themselves were a spectacle¡ªvibrant, chaotic, mesmerizing. Everywhere he looked, people thrived in an intricate dance of life. Musicians strummed exotic instruments, their melodies weaving seamlessly into the air. Dancers, clad in flowing silks, moved with hypnotic grace, their bodies swaying to the rhythm of an unseen tune. Orators stood upon raised platforms, their voices booming with philosophy and poetry, their words captivating those who cared to listen. The crowd was a blend of cultures, a melting pot of identities. Some wore the traditional draped robes of Rome, while others bore the fine linens and golden adornments of Egyptian nobility. It was as if time itself had collapsed, merging past and present into a single breathtaking moment. For a fleeting second, Nathan felt as though he had traveled back in time. But no¡ªthis was no vision of the past. This was the present, his reality. A small sigh escaped him as he took in his own reflection in the polished bronze interior of the carriage. Despite his best efforts to alter his appearance, Aphrodite''s passive skill remained ever-active, albeit in a subdued form. His features, even after modification, still possessed an unnatural allure¡ªa beauty that drew eyes like moths to flame. He had tried to blend in, but there was only so much he could do. His clothes, though chosen carefully, were still foreign to this land. His aura, an unshakable presence, made it difficult to go unnoticed. But discretion was his greatest ally now. He could not afford reckless actions¡ªnot here, not now. If the truth of his identity was revealed, if they discovered that he was the Lord Commander of Tenebria, the consequences would be catastrophic. The Empire of Ra would see it as an opportunity, a justification to wage war upon Tenebria itself. Though the Empire of Ra had taken a hostile stance against Tenebria after their meeting with the Heroes of Light two months prior, outright war had not yet erupted. Their hostility was more of a precautionary measure, a warning rather than a declaration. It was clear they were weighing their options, contemplating a potential alliance with the Light Empire¡ªan alliance that could one day tip the scales against Tenebria. But for now, it remained just that¡ªa possibility. However, if the Lord Commander of Tenebria were to be discovered rampaging through Alexandria, there would be no more room for caution. It would be seen as nothing short of a direct provocation, an act of war that the Empire of Ra could use as justification to launch an assault on Tenebria. Nathan had no intention of letting that happen. He had already had his fill of war after witnessing the madness of the Trojan War. That brutal conflict had been a senseless bloodbath, a waste of time and lives¡ªone he had barely managed to extract himself from. He would not make the same mistake here. The only war that mattered now was the one against the Light Empire¡ªthe final war, if he had his way. The Empire of Ra was not his enemy. Not yet. He had no reason to move against them unless they gave him one. For now, his focus lay elsewhere. He needed to find clues. Clues about Ameriah and Auria. Were they still alive? Where were they being held? And then there was Benjamin, a Hero of the second summoning. What was his connection to the Pharaoh? Had he acted under direct orders from the throne? If so, Nathan''s approach would have to change completely. If the Emperor of Ra had sanctioned this, then there would be no room for diplomacy¡ªonly fight. But Nathan doubted it. A leader would not risk such a dangerous move without reason. He needed proof before he acted. The ideal outcome¡ªthe best-case scenario¡ªwas simple: Locate Ameriah and Auria. Ensure their safetyCapture the so-called ''Hero'' responsible. Leave the Empire of Ra unnoticed, as if he had never been here in the first place But that was wishful thinking. A fantasy at best. Reality was crueler. He had no leads. No clues. No idea where to even begin looking. If only he could contact Khione, Aphrodite, or even Amaterasu... But this empire was under the dominion of the Egyptian Gods¡ªand their influence was absolute. Nathan recalled a conversation with Khione. She had once told him that other pantheons were far more reserved than the Greek Gods, far less prone to reckless intervention. It seemed she had been right. The Egyptian Gods... That was another headache waiting for him. He had yet to encounter even one of them, and truthfully, he preferred it that way. The last thing he needed was to antagonize another pantheon¡ªespecially one as powerful as this. Khione had specifically warned him about interfering with the Egyptian, Babylonian, and Nordic Gods. They were unpredictable, volatile, and far less forgiving than the Olympians. And she was right about one more thing¡ªNathan could not yet face a god. Not in direct combat. Not even close. His fight with Poseidon had been an exception¡ªa combination of luck, planning, and careful execution. But against an actual god in a fair fight? He wouldn''t stand a chance. The strongest opponent he could reliably face right now was a demigod¡ªnothing more. For now, his only option was to tread carefully, to stay in the shadows, and to gather as much information as possible before making a move. One wrong step could turn this empire into another battlefield¡ªand that was the last thing he wanted. The carriage came to a halt in front of what appeared to be a lively tavern, its wooden sign creaking softly as it swayed in the desert breeze. Nathan, seated comfortably inside, gave a simple command¡ªthough to the exhausted guards who had carried his transport across the searing landscape, it might as well have been a divine decree. "Stop." The armored men, who had spent the last several miles hoisting the carriage without reprieve, collapsed onto their knees the moment they were released from their duty. Their bodies were drenched in sweat, their breathing ragged and heavy. The desert sun had been merciless, and Nathan¡ªwhether intentionally or not¡ªhad given them no moment to rest. Without so much as a passing glance in their direction, Nathan stepped out of the carriage. He reached for the hood of his cloak, pulling it over his head. The gesture was practical, meant to shield him from the relentless rays of the sun, but it also served another purpose¡ªto conceal his striking appearance. Putting aside his current look with black hair and blue eyes, his appearance seemed too much stranger in this Empire. He looked different even from the light skinned ones. Adjusting the hood so that it draped over his face, he strode forward, pushing open the door of the tavern. The inside was a stark contrast to the harsh silence of the desert outside. It was packed with people, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of drunken laughter, murmured conversations, and the occasional outburst of raucous singing. The scent of alcohol¡ªstrong and heady¡ªmixed with the faint aroma of roasted meat. A few men at a nearby table were engaged in an arm-wrestling match, their spectators cheering and slamming their tankards onto the wooden surface. Nathan navigated through the crowded space with quiet ease, his footsteps barely making a sound against the tavern''s worn floorboards. He made his way toward the counter and took a seat in front of the bartender, a man with a broad, friendly face and an experienced gaze that had undoubtedly seen all manner of customers. The bartender eyed him curiously before offering a welcoming smile. "You seem new, my friend," the man said, wiping a glass with a practiced hand. "Looking for something? A drink, perhaps?" Nathan tilted his head slightly before responding, his voice calm yet firm. "Anything but alcohol." For a brief moment, the bartender seemed taken aback. Then, after a beat, he let out a hearty chuckle. "Now that''s a rare request in a place like this." He set the glass down and turned toward the shelves behind him. "Lemon drink, then." A moment later, he slid a cup toward Nathan. The liquid inside was pale yellow, a simple concoction of water and freshly squeezed citrus. Nathan took a sip, his expression subtly twisting at the sharp tang before he placed the cup back down on the counter. The bartender leaned in slightly, his expression still amicable but his eyes sharp. "So, if not a drink, then what brings you here?" Nathan exhaled lightly before speaking. "Information." The word hung in the air for a moment. The bartender raised an eyebrow, but his easygoing demeanor remained unchanged. "Information, huh? Can''t say I''ve got much of that¡ª" he paused meaningfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "¡ªat least, not for free." Nathan could see it clearly. The man wasn''t naive. He had already assessed him, likely noticing the quality of his cloak, the confidence in his posture, the way he carried himself. He wasn''t mistaken¡ªNathan was no common traveler. In fact, he was the exact opposite. Without hesitation, Nathan reached into his cloak and pulled out a single gold coin, placing it on the counter with a soft clink. The response was immediate. The bartender''s eyes widened slightly, but it was the reaction from those sitting nearby that was more telling. The conversations around him slowed, some halting altogether, as a few patrons turned their heads toward the gleaming coin. A gold coin. The currency was different from that of the local empire, but there was no mistaking its worth. Gold held value anywhere, and here, it was a fortune. The bartender recovered quickly, his broad grin returning as he swiftly pocketed the coin. "Now that''s more like it," he said, his tone now carrying an undertone of genuine interest. "Tell me, sir. What is it you''d like to know?" Nathan didn''t answer right away. He tapped his fingers against the wooden counter, then finally spoke. "The Heroes." The bartender''s smile remained, but his eyes flickered with something else...caution, perhaps. "The Heroes?" he echoed, as if testing the waters. "You must mean the Heroes of Ra." Nathan didn''t confirm nor deny. He simply waited. The man exhaled through his nose before leaning slightly closer. "Well, if that''s the case, I have some news for you. They''re gone. All of them." Nathan''s gaze sharpened slightly. "They left for the Light Empire," the bartender continued. "It happened about two months ago. The Light Heroes were formally welcomed by the Pharaoh, and now it''s their turn. The Heroes of Amun Ra will be received by the Empire of Light soon enough or maybe they already had. It''s been a week since they left after all." Nathan absorbed the information in silence. So the Heroes of Ra were gone. That was the first good news he had received in a while. At the very least, he wouldn''t have to deal with the so-called Heroes of the Amun Ra Empire. Chapter 355: Nathans plan Nathan leaned against the worn wooden counter, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his half-empty mug. His black hair glinted under the dim lantern light, drawing more than a few curious glances, but he paid them no mind. The air in the tavern was thick with the scent of spilled ale and roasting meat, mingling with the occasional burst of laughter from the surrounding patrons. He fixed his sharp gaze on the barkeep, a burly man with a thick beard and a wary expression, before asking in a measured tone, "Have any other Heroes arrived in Alexandria?" It was a carefully crafted question. He couldn''t bluntly inquire about a Hero from the second summoning of the Empire of Light¡ªno one here would understand such an obscure reference. Instead, he kept it broad, seeking any mention of summoned individuals. The barkeep furrowed his brows, pausing in the midst of wiping down the counter. "Other Heroes? Not that I am aware of." Nathan''s fingers tapped rhythmically against the wood. He hadn''t expected a direct answer, but it was still disappointing. He shifted tactics. "Any important guests? Have any royal figures arrived in Alexandria recently?" The man gave him a skeptical look, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe? You''re asking rather peculiar questions, aren''t you?" Nathan''s expression darkened. His voice turned cold, cutting through the ambient chatter like a blade. "If you can''t provide even basic information, I''ll be taking my money back." The barkeep''s eyes widened in panic. The glint of gold he had just pocketed was too valuable to lose. He swallowed hard and hastily blurted out, "W...Wait! I do have something!" Nathan''s patience was running thin. He folded his arms, his voice laced with impatience. "What is it?" The barkeep straightened, his chest puffing slightly as if he were about to deliver groundbreaking news. "It''s only a rumor, but the sources are reliable. Word has it that the Roman Empire''s great general, Pompey, has been seen in Pelusium." He leaned forward, his face splitting into a proud grin, as if expecting Nathan to react in shock and awe. The surrounding patrons murmured among themselves, confirming the importance of the claim. But Nathan''s response was nothing but a disinterested look. His expression remained as cold as ever. "That''s your news?" His blue eyes locked onto the barkeep with a piercing intensity. The man faltered. "W..What? I just told you about Pompey! You''re not even the least bit surprised?" Nathan tilted his head, utterly unimpressed. "I don''t even know who Pompey is." A heavy silence fell over the tavern. Conversations ceased. The clinking of mugs against tables stopped. Every gaze turned toward him, a mixture of shock and disbelief painted across the faces of those who had overheard. The barkeep sputtered, leaning forward as if he had misheard. "You don''t know Pompey? You have to be joking. He''s one of the most influential men in the Roman Empire!" Roman Empire. That was the only detail that held the slightest relevance to Nathan. It was a distant land, far removed from the affairs of Amun-Ra, let alone the conflicts with Tenebria. The Romans had no stake in the battle against the Demon King. In fact, they likely saw the entire matter as little more than distant folklore. Nathan hadn''t particularly cared about the affairs of the Roman Empire or its supposed great men. They were just distant figures in a world that had little to do with his own priorities. But now that he thought about it, the name Pompey did stir something in the back of his mind. Had he come across it in a history lesson? Perhaps during one of those monotonous lectures back on Earth, when his teacher had droned on about Rome''s conquests and internal strife. He couldn''t quite recall the details, but the name wasn''t entirely foreign to him. Still, that alone didn''t make it important to him. Nevertheless, he saw an opportunity. If Pompey''s presence here was so shocking, then perhaps there was more to this than he initially thought. Information was power, and he needed every scrap he could get. He tilted his head slightly, feigning casual interest. "Why is his appearance here so shocking?" The barkeep let out an incredulous scoff, slamming his rag down on the counter. "You''re asking why? Because the man is in open rebellion against Emperor Caesar himself! And now, of all places, he''s turned up in the Empire of Amun Ra¡ªthe very land that Caesar has coveted for years, just like Alexander the Great before him!" Nathan''s fingers drummed against the counter, his mind turning over this new piece of information. "Emperor Caesar..." he murmured under his breath. That name¡ªCaesar¡ªit struck him immediately. It was eerily similar to Julius Caesar from his own world. The connections between this world and Earth had always been unsettling. Kingdoms, historical figures, even the very conflicts seemed to mirror those from his own history, though twisted and altered in ways he hadn''t fully grasped yet. Was this their version of Julius Caesar? Another version of the man from his own world''s history? Not that he particularly cared. What mattered now was how he could use this situation to his advantage. Nathan leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as he asked, "And what does the Pharaoh think of Pompey''s arrival?" It wasn''t mere curiosity. He had just formulated an idea¡ªan opportunity to gather firsthand intelligence from the higher-ups of Amun Ra''s ruling class. If he could get closer to them, he could extract more valuable information about the larger political landscape. The barkeep clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "That Pharaoh? He''s just a child¡ªa figurehead at best. The real power lies with the ones pulling his strings." Nathan narrowed his eyes slightly. "And they...?" "They want an alliance with Rome. Desperately." The man''s voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. "So you can imagine what they''d do if they got their hands on Pompey..." He trailed off, leaving Nathan to piece together the rest. But Nathan didn''t need to imagine it¡ªhe already knew. It was obvious. "They''d capture him and offer him to Caesar as a gift." His voice was quiet, yet utterly certain. The barkeep nodded grimly. "Exactly. They want to prove their loyalty, to earn Caesar''s favor before Rome decides to take Amun Ra by force." Nathan remained silent, absorbing the weight of that revelation. Despite having summoned Heroes, the Amun Ra Empire was still weaker than Rome. That alone was a staggering fact. For all their divine champions, they were still at a disadvantage against an empire whose military strength came not only from supernatural blessings, but from something far more tangible¡ªweapons of their own design. And now, with Pompey''s unexpected arrival near Alexandria, things had escalated beyond anyone''s expectations. The rulers of Amun Ra would be scrambling to make their position clear, desperate to prove they had no ties to a man who had become Rome''s most wanted fugitive. Which meant... the political landscape was about to shift. A slow smirk formed at the edges of Nathan''s lips. He could use this. Nathan had little interest in the tangled web of political intrigue that spanned the vast dominions of the Roman Empire and the illustrious Empire of Amun Ra. Their conflicts, their ambitions¡ªnone of it truly mattered to him. But circumstances dictated that he had to approach the current Pharaoh of Amun Ra, and that was an obstacle not easily overcome. The Pharaoh was not the type of ruler who granted audiences to just anyone, least of all someone like Nathan, a foreigner without rank or influence. If he wanted a chance to speak with him, he needed leverage¡ªsomething so powerful that the Pharaoh and his advisors would have no choice but to listen. And that''s where Pompey came into the picture. "Where did you say Pompey was last seen?" Nathan asked, his tone sharp and measured. "Pelusium," the man responded. "Far to the east." Nathan gave a slight nod. "Do you have a map?" The bartender, a burly man with deep lines on his sun-worn face, grunted and reached under the counter, pulling out a rolled-up piece of parchment. He placed it on the wooden surface, smoothing it out with calloused hands. The map was crude, lacking the sophistication of Roman cartography, but it was serviceable enough. Nathan traced a gloved finger across its surface, stopping at Pelusium. As the man had said, it lay far to the east, positioned at the mouth of the Nile. It made sense that Pompey would be there. He wouldn''t dare stay too close to Alexandria, where the Pharaoh and his handlers were eager to get their hands on him. Even so, something about the situation felt... off. Why had Pompey chosen to flee to the Empire of Amun Ra in the first place? It was a reckless move¡ªdangerous, even. Surely, he had other choices. If he had truly wanted to escape Caesar''s grasp, he could have sailed beyond the reach of Rome altogether. He could have sought refuge in another empire, somewhere distant and neutral. Unless... Nathan''s eyes narrowed as he considered the possibility. Despite his recent losses, Pompey still commanded a considerable force. Was Pelusium meant to be a staging ground? A strategic foothold from which to launch an eventual counteroffensive against Caesar? Whatever the case, it didn''t matter. What mattered was that Nathan finally had a plan. Pompey was his key¡ªhis bargaining chip. If he could capture the Roman general, he could use him as leverage to force the Pharaoh and his court to talk. Ameriah and Auria... He needed answers about them. And fast. Fortunately, both of them were too valuable to be killed. They will be treated well but for which purpose? He needed to hurry up. The quickest way to reach Pelusium was by sea, not by land. There was no question about it¡ªhe needed to head to the port of Alexandria and secure passage on the first available ship. With that decision made, he rose from his seat. "You''re going to Pelusium, aren''t you?" A voice cut through the din of the tavern. Nathan turned his head. The man who had spoken was seated right beside him¡ªa figure who had, until now, remained quiet. The stranger smirked at him, his eyes gleaming. Chapter 356: Lucius "You''re going to Pelusium, aren''t you?" A voice cut through the din of the tavern. Nathan turned his head. The man who had spoken was seated right beside him¡ªa figure who had, until now, remained quiet. The stranger smirked at him, his eyes gleaming. Nathan scoffed, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the man with an unimpressed expression. "What do you think?" he asked mockingly, his voice laced with thinly veiled irritation. He had no patience for eavesdroppers, much less those who thought they could involve themselves in his business. The stranger, unfazed by Nathan''s tone, took another leisurely sip from his cup, a smirk playing on his lips. "I think," he drawled, "that you''re indeed heading to Pelusium. You seem rather interested in meeting Pompey, though I have to wonder¡ªwhy?" Nathan''s eyes darkened, his patience thinning. "That doesn''t concern you." "True," the man conceded with an amused chuckle, setting his cup down with a soft clink against the wooden table. Nathan studied him for a moment but found no reason to waste any more time. Without another word, he turned to leave, pushing his chair back with a controlled movement. "Wait." The stranger''s voice halted him mid-step. Nathan turned his head slightly, his black hair catching the flickering glow of the oil lamps. The man had risen from his seat, now standing face-to-face with him, his expression still one of amusement, yet there was a keen glint in his eyes¡ªone that suggested he was far more perceptive than he let on. "If you''re heading to Pelusium," the man continued, "I can take you there. As it happens, I was planning to leave soon myself. I only stopped here for a last bit of rest before setting sail. Then I overheard you." Nathan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You expect me to believe you just so happen to be traveling to the same place?" His voice carried a biting edge of skepticism. The man laughed, shaking his head. "Hard to believe? Yes. But that doesn''t make it any less true. I''d suggest you accept the offer, though. You won''t find many boats willing to take you there¡ªat least, not ones you''d want to board. Trust me." Nathan crossed his arms, studying the man closely. "And why should I trust you?" The man''s smirk widened. "Because I can promise you''ll get there in one piece. People of Alexandria are good folk, mostly. But there are... others. Dangerous types. If you aren''t careful, you could find yourself in a situation where you don''t have a choice. Kidnappings aren''t uncommon, especially when someone new and unsuspecting arrives in the city." Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Kidnap me?" He let out a short, dry chuckle. "You''re new here," the man continued with a casual shrug. "You don''t know how things work yet. Ever since Ptolemy XIII took the throne, things have become... how should I put it? More ''free.''" He smirked, swirling the liquid in his cup before taking another sip. Nathan scoffed. "That''s what happens when you put a brat on the throne." Silence. It was sudden, unnatural. The air in the tavern shifted. Conversations died down, chairs scraped as men and women hurriedly turned away. Some mumbled hurried prayers under their breath, their gazes avoiding Nathan as if he had just uttered something sacrilegious. The stranger watched the scene unfold before shaking his head, then¡ªhe laughed. Loudly. "Insulting the Pharaoh, right here, in his own capital?" He clapped his hands together, amused. "I have to admit, you''ve got guts." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice, but his grin never wavered. "You do realize that could get you killed, right? Maybe worse¡ªtortured first, then executed." Nathan''s expression remained impassive, though inwardly, he noted the tension in the room. The people''s fear. Their whispered prayers. As expected, Nathan didn''t seem particularly concerned. The warnings, the hushed prayers, the way the tavern''s atmosphere had shifted into a tense silence¡ªit all meant nothing to him. He had no reason to fear a child-king''s rule. His gaze shifted back to the man who had so casually offered him passage to Pelusium. A stranger. An unknown factor. Nathan didn''t trust him, nor did he care to. But if this man could get him to his destination faster, there was little reason to refuse. And if he turned out to be a threat? Well, then Nathan would simply kill him and take what he needed. It wasn''t complicated. "Fine," Nathan said at last. "I accept your offer. Take me there." The man smirked as if he had expected that answer all along. "Good. Follow me." Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. Nathan followed, his sharp eyes never leaving the stranger''s back. As they stepped out into the warm night air, the city of Alexandria stretched before them, its streets bathed in the soft glow of oil lamps. The scent of the sea mixed with the lingering aromas of spice and grilled meat from nearby food stalls. The port wasn''t far¡ªhe could already hear the distant calls of sailors preparing for their early departures. After a few moments of walking, Nathan finally spoke. "Who are you?" The man didn''t break his stride. "You can call me Aporos," he answered smoothly. "And you?" Nathan hesitated. Giving his real name was out of the question. He couldn''t use Nathan, Heiron, or even Samael. Here, in the Empire of Amun Ra, he needed something different¡ªsomething that wouldn''t draw suspicion. A Roman name would serve well enough. "Lucius," he said finally. Aporos glanced at him with mild interest. "Lucius, huh? A fine name," he mused before flashing a grin. "And where exactly are you from, Lucius?" Nathan narrowed his eyes slightly at the deliberate mispronunciation of his supposed name. He already disliked how many questions this man was asking. "Try to guess," he said, his tone carrying an edge of annoyance. Aporos chuckled. "Hm... judging by that arrogance, I''d say you''re straight from the Roman capital? They all carry themselves like that, don''t they? But then again..." He studied Nathan more closely as they walked, his gaze sharp despite his casual demeanor. "You don''t have the mannerisms of those self-important nobles. You hold yourself differently¡ªlike someone accustomed to battle. A soldier? No... a mercenary, perhaps?" Nathan almost laughed at the irony. He had played the role of a mercenary before, during the Trojan War. If it had worked then, it would work now. "Mercenary," he echoed, a hint of amusement slipping into his voice. "Yeah. Something like that." Aporos smirked again. "Mercernary then... but I wonder, who is it that you serve? And why have you come all this way? Did your master give you a specific task to accomplish that involves Pompey?" Aporos asked, his sharp eyes studying Nathan with keen curiosity. Nathan felt another surge of annoyance rise within him. Master? The very thought of being subservient to anyone made his skin crawl. He had no master. No one commanded him. But instead of voicing his irritation, he chose silence, dismissing the prying question with an indifferent glance. Aporos chuckled, as if he had expected that reaction. "Hahaha, I apologize if I''m being too talkative. I just have this feeling that we could get along well¡ªperhaps even become good friends," he said, his grin easy and confident. "I don''t think so," Nathan replied flatly, his tone carrying the weight of finality. "Just take me where I need to go, and I''ll make sure you''re compensated generously." But instead of accepting the payment, Aporos waved it off with a laugh. "No need for that. You''re new around here, aren''t you? Consider this a favor from me," he said with a dismissive shrug. Nathan remained silent, unwilling to entertain further conversation. Before long, they arrived at the dock where a sturdy wooden boat awaited them, its sails furled and its crew already making final preparations. The scent of saltwater mixed with the faint, lingering stench of fish and damp wood. The gentle rocking of the boat against the pier suggested they were ready to set sail at any moment. "Let''s go, everyone!" Aporos, as he had introduced himself earlier¡ªcalled out to the crew. "We have a guest with us! Let me introduce you all to Lucius!" Nathan observed the crew''s reaction. It was far from welcoming. The men and women on board looked him over with sharp, scrutinizing eyes, their expressions guarded, their posture stiff with unspoken tension. These weren''t ordinary sailors. Nathan could tell immediately¡ªeach of them carried themselves with the air of seasoned fighters. Scars, calloused hands, and the way they shifted their weight spoke of experience in battle. Just who were these people? Nathan refrained from asking questions. He merely returned their wary gazes with an indifferent glance before walking to an unoccupied corner of the boat and sitting down, waiting for the journey to begin. Aporos, undeterred by the crew''s silence, let out another hearty laugh. "Hah! He''s not much of a talker, but he''s a good one!" he declared, slapping a nearby crew member on the shoulder. Nathan closed his eyes, intending to ignore whatever conversation would follow, but his ears¡ªfar from ordinary¡ªpicked up something interesting. A man had grabbed Aporos by the arm, dragging him aside with an air of frustration. The two moved a few steps away, likely thinking they were far enough to avoid being overheard. Unfortunately for them, Nathan''s sharp hearing betrayed that assumption. "What the hell are you doing?!" the man hissed angrily. Aporos sighed, clearly exasperated. "What''s got you so riled up?" "What''s got me riled up? You brought a stranger onto the ship! Are you mad? Did you forget what we''re here for?" "I know very well," Aporos said with a casual shrug. "But he''s heading in the same direction, so I''m just helping him out. No harm in that." "No harm in that?" the other man seethed. "We''re sailing to Pelusium to secure an important alliance with Pompey....for Queen Cleopatra! And you''re playing around with strangers?!" Nathan''s eyes snapped open. Chapter 357: Three Emperors "I know very well," Aporos said with a casual shrug. "But he''s heading in the same direction, so I''m just helping him out. No harm in that." "No harm in that?" the other man seethed. "We''re sailing to Pelusium to secure an important alliance with Pompey....for Queen Cleopatra! And you''re playing around with strangers?!" Nathan''s eyes snapped open. Cleopatra. That name would be instantly recognizable to anyone who hadn''t spent their life in complete isolation. The last Queen and Pharaoh of Egypt¡ªrenowned for her beauty, intelligence, and political prowess. A woman who had ensnared some of the greatest men of her time, from Julius Caesar to Mark Antony. And now, she existed in this world as well? Or was it merely a version of her, an echo of history reshaped by the fabric of this new reality? Nathan was growing accustomed to these constant surprises. First, he had encountered Caesar¡ªalive and well in this strange world. And now Cleopatra''s name had surfaced in conversation. It was as if history itself had been twisted into a new form, playing out events in an altered script. Not that he particularly cared. Still, at least he now had a clearer understanding of what was unfolding around him. These people were heading to Pelusium to meet with Pompey. Their goal? Most likely to offer him protection while securing an alliance. If Nathan had to make an educated guess, Cleopatra was vying for her throne against her brother, just as in history. Aligning herself with Pompey would provide her with the political leverage she needed to solidify her claim. At the same time, Pompey could benefit from forging an alliance with the Amun-Ra Empire, securing his own safety and influence. A clever plan. But none of it had anything to do with Nathan. His only concern was Pompey¡ªmore precisely, using Pompey as leverage to obtain the information he sought. And if that meant tearing through everyone in his way, so be it. For now, however, patience was his greatest weapon. He would let them take him to Pelusium, quietly observing until the perfect opportunity presented itself. Nathan''s mind drifted to a question that had been lingering since his arrival: Where would he even begin searching for Pompey? How would he track him down in an unfamiliar world? But it seemed fate had provided an answer before he had to struggle for one. He had stumbled upon the very people seeking Pompey¡ªand judging by their knowledge, they were far more informed than he was. Following them once they reached Pelusium was the most efficient course of action. Having heard enough, Nathan shut out the rest of their conversation. The journey continued, and he found himself largely ignored by the rest of the crew. Whether it was due to distrust or simply a desire not to draw unnecessary attention to themselves, he didn''t know¡ªnor did he care. If anything, he preferred it this way. No needless chatter. No pointless attempts at small talk. For the most part, they left him alone. Except for one. Aporos. "Aren''t you eating, Lucius?" Nathan didn''t turn to face him. His eyes remained on the endless horizon, watching the rhythmic dance of waves as the ship cut through the sea. The vast expanse of water stretched beyond sight, merging seamlessly with the sky. "No," he replied curtly. Aporos chuckled, leaning against the wooden railing beside him. "Not much of an eater, huh? Or is it that you''re too deep in thought?" Nathan gave him a brief, disinterested glance but didn''t bother responding. Aporos, however, didn''t seem like the type to be discouraged by silence. "I don''t think you''re stupid, so I''m sure you''ve already figured out that there''s something... peculiar about our little group, haven''t you?" Aporos asked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he studied Nathan. Nathan, however, was unfazed. His gaze remained sharp, unwavering. "Not something I particularly care about," he replied coolly. "Just take me to Pelusium." Aporos chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "That''s good. We will, don''t worry." His expression remained relaxed, but there was an undeniable glint of curiosity in his eyes. "But tell me¡ª" He leaned forward slightly, as if testing the waters of their conversation. "You want to see Pompey, don''t you?" Nathan didn''t respond. He merely held Aporos''s gaze, his silence carrying its own weight. Aporos, unfazed, pressed on. "Your little discussion back at the tavern made it seem like you''re quite interested in him. Do you bear some kind of grudge against Pompey?" Nathan''s response was swift and cold, his voice devoid of any warmth. "What I want from Pompey is none of your business." Aporos remained silent for a moment, his smirk faltering slightly before he regained his composure. Of course, he wasn''t about to admit his true allegiance¡ªthat he was a follower of Cleopatra and was seeking an alliance with the Roman general. That information was too sensitive to be carelessly revealed. Instead, he redirected the conversation. "I was just curious," he said smoothly, shrugging. "You''re from Rome, aren''t you? Do you know Pompey personally?" Nathan''s mind began to work through the implications. Aporos had already figured out that he was searching for Pompey¡ªjust like they were. But why? Was he simply trying to gauge the kind of man Pompey was, perhaps to prepare for negotiations? It was possible. The way Aporos was subtly probing him suggested he was hoping to extract valuable information. But was that the real reason they had offered to take him to Pelusium? Probably not. Nathan''s instincts told him there was more to this group than they let on. And if they were truly connected to Cleopatra, then there was another question that gnawed at the back of his mind: Did they have any connection to the Heroes? And more importantly, could they be involved in the disappearances of Ameriah and Auria? If Aporos was going to pry for information, Nathan saw no reason why he couldn''t do the same. A careful exchange of words could lead him to something valuable. So, instead of brushing Aporos off, he decided to give him a little of what he wanted. Just enough to keep him talking. "Pompey is an admirer of Alexander the Great," Nathan said at last. Aporos let out a short laugh, clearly entertained by the statement. "Who isn''t?" he replied with a grin. Indeed, Alexander was revered as a god in his time. His conquests had reshaped history, toppling countless kingdoms¡ªincluding the Rome of the past and the mighty Amun-Ra Empire. He had subdued not only the fragmented Greek city-states but had carved a path through Persia, Egypt, and beyond. Even centuries after his death, his legacy endured, his name whispered with reverence across nations. In fact, Khillea admired him as well. Nathan watched Aporos closely, gauging his reaction. Was this line of conversation revealing anything useful? Perhaps. Or perhaps he had just walked into Aporos''s trap, feeding him exactly what he wanted. Either way, he had no intention of letting his guard down. Nathan searched his memory, trying to recall anything else he knew about Pompey. There had to be something useful¡ªsomething that could help him navigate this situation. One fact stood out immediately. Pompey was going to die. The Pharaoh''s men would ensure it. That much was inevitable. In fact, if fate had already taken its course, Pompey might already be dead. That would be a serious problem for Nathan. His mind raced as he pieced things together. If Pompey had already been eliminated, then his trip to Pelusium could be a complete waste of time¡ªor worse, it could put him in danger if he walked into a trap. Pushing the thought aside, he decided to share what little else he could recall. "He was once close to Caesar..." Nathan said, his tone measured as he carefully chose his words. Aporos grinned, clearly amused. "Of course he was," he replied, his voice carrying a note of condescension. "Pompey is one of the three Emperors of Rome. Alongside Julius Caesar and Marcus Crassus, they are the most powerful men of the Empire." Nathan remained silent, absorbing the information. He had known about Rome''s previous ruling structure, but hearing it confirmed in the present moment made everything feel more concrete. "But tensions rose between Caesar and Pompey," Aporos continued, his tone shifting slightly. "Now Pompey is seen as an enemy of Rome. A rather... convenient shift in power, don''t you think? It''s quite clear that the remaining two rulers orchestrated this. Though I must admit, I''ve always been curious¡ªwhat exactly drove them apart?" Nathan resisted the urge to smirk. Aporos was trying to bait him into revealing more than he should. But for once, this worked in his favor. If Aporos was willing to keep talking, Nathan had a chance to extract more from him as well. "So there are three Emperors," Nathan mused internally, allowing the thought to settle. Something about that rang a bell. He knew Julius Caesar had ruled Rome alongside two others before. But history told a clear story¡ªhis co-rulers never lasted long. It wasn''t difficult to guess why. "Caesar wants the throne," Nathan said absentmindedly, almost thinking aloud. "He intends to become the sole Emperor, with absolute power and authority." The moment the words left his lips, the atmosphere shifted. A stunned silence followed. Aporos and the others looked at him in surprise, as if he had just spoken something blasphemous. Then Aporos laughed, shaking his head. "You must be joking, Lucius," he said, though there was an uncertain edge to his voice. "The Roman Empire and the Pope would never allow one man to claim all power for himself..." Nathan turned his gaze to Aporos, his expression unreadable. He didn''t need to say anything. He was sure of one thing¡ªCaesar, regardless of the version of history, was always an ambitious man. He would not share power indefinitely. Aporos might laugh now, but he was wrong. Caesar would take the throne for himself. Nathan shifted his thoughts to something else¡ªsomething far more intriguing. If Caesar was that ambitious... Then perhaps he could be useful. A new plan began to take shape in Nathan''s mind. If Pompey was already dead¡ªor soon to be¡ªhe needed an alternative. "Maybe I could make a deal with him..." Chapter 358: Found out?! The journey to Pelusium had been an arduous one for Nathan, not because of any physical strain, but due to the incessant chatter of Aporos. The man seemed determined to keep the conversation alive, whether out of sheer boredom or a misguided sense of pity for Nathan, who had spent much of the trip in silence. Perhaps Aporos believed that engaging a Roman in conversation would yield useful information. However, by this point, he should have realized that Nathan held little knowledge of Pompey''s affairs. The latter possibility amused Nathan. If Aporos truly sought to extract intelligence, he was wasting his efforts on the wrong man. Regardless, Nathan endured the conversation with patience, offering minimal responses when required, and otherwise allowing the Greek''s words to wash over him like the ceaseless waves against the hull of their vessel. At long last, their boat reached the bustling port of Pelusium. The moment the vessel was secured and the gangplank lowered, the passengers disembarked. The air was thick with the scent of salt and foreign spices, mingling with the voices of merchants hawking their wares along the docks. The golden hues of the setting sun cast long shadows over the marketplace, giving the city an almost ethereal glow. As soon as their feet touched solid ground, Aporos turned to Nathan with a somewhat wistful expression. "It seems our paths must now diverge, Lucius," he said, using Nathan''s assumed Roman name. "I must admit, I had rather hoped we could continue traveling together." Nathan, who had been anticipating this farewell, reached into his cloak and produced a small pouch of coins. He tossed it to Aporos, who caught it with a raised brow. "This should cover your expenses for a while. Consider it payment for the company." Aporos opened the pouch slightly and let out a low whistle. "You are quite wealthy, aren''t you? I daresay I''m a little jealous." He chuckled, though his eyes gleamed with curiosity. Nathan considered pointing out that a follower of Cleopatra likely lacked nothing in terms of wealth, but he held his tongue. Instead, he merely nodded and turned away, his steps carrying him toward the heart of the city. By now, he had all the information he needed. The group he had been observing planned to depart in the dead of night. Until then, they would remain within the city, moving cautiously, ensuring that their presence did not draw undue attention. As for Pompey himself, he was somewhere in Pelusium. Unfortunately, Nathan had not been able to determine his exact location. That meant he would have to shadow his targets, keeping close enough to find Pompey before they did. The hours until nightfall would be best spent recuperating. Thus, Nathan sought out a modest inn, slipping inside and securing a room for himself. The space was small and unadorned, but it would serve its purpose. He allowed himself a brief moment of rest, leaning against the wooden frame of the bed as he closed his eyes in contemplation. Fortunately, tracking Aporos would not be an issue. Thanks to the Eye of Odin, Nathan had already marked him, an ability that would allow him to sense Aporos''s movements within the city. It was a remarkable power, though it came at a significant cost in mana. While Nathan possessed a formidable reserve, he preferred not to squander it carelessly. For now, he could only maintain such a mark on one person. He regretted not having used on Ameriah but it seemed that it wouldn''t have changed anything since the mark he had put on Khione before had vanished which meant something interfered with his Skill during the teleportation in the realm ruled by the Egypt Gods. Settling into a light rest, he prepared himself for the night ahead. The city of Pelusium was vast, and the tides of fate were shifting. By dawn, Pompey''s fate¡ªand perhaps his own¡ªwould be decided. In his small room at the inn, Nathan sat cross-legged on the simple straw mattress, his breathing slow and measured as he focused inward. He was reaching out¡ªnot physically, but through the bond he shared with Khione. Of all those bound to him, Khione was the one with whom he shared the deepest connection. It was not merely the enslavement seal that tied them together, but something far stronger¡ªtheir countless intimate nights, their shared emotions, and an understanding that transcended words. Their connection had reached an almost absurd level of synchronization, a harmony so potent that not even the divine barriers of an empire ruled by foreign gods could sever it. Nathan pushed his senses outward, stretching his awareness beyond the confines of his body, beyond the walls of the inn, beyond the borders of the city. He could not speak to her, not yet, but he knew she would feel him¡ªhis presence, his safety, his location. That alone was enough. She was likely worried, and truth be told, he already missed her. But it wasn''t only Khione. His heart ached for Nivea, his daughter¡ªhis little girl, whom he had never once left alone for an entire day. He had seen her every single the day he met her, and now, he was separated from her. She would probably be upset. After ten long minutes of intense concentration, a smirk played at Nathan''s lips. He had reached her. He didn''t need to linger any longer. That small connection was enough. She would understand what to do if things took a dangerous turn. This was a precautionary measure, a safeguard, given that he was in an empire ruled by gods he had never encountered¡ªEgyptian gods whose intentions and temperaments were an enigma to him. With that done, he could now turn his full attention to his primary objective: retrieving Ameriah and Auria. But just as he was about to rise, Nathan''s smirk vanished. Something was off. His senses prickled with an unmistakable feeling of danger. His sharp gaze flicked toward the door, narrowing in suspicion. A split second later, the wooden door burst open with a resounding crash. A masked figure strode in, wielding a long sword that gleamed under the dim candlelight. "There you are," the masked intruder said with a low chuckle, his voice laced with satisfaction. His mask was ornate, golden, and sculpted in the likeness of an Egyptian pharaoh, with piercing red eyes gleaming through the narrow slits. Nathan remained still, his mind assessing the situation in an instant. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with suspicion. This man didn''t seem to be affiliated with Aporos or his entourage. That meant someone else was after him. But who? And why? "I saw you with that dog, Apollodorus," the masked man sneered, his voice cold as steel. "Now, you''re going to tell me everything you know about Pompey''s whereabouts." His red eyes bore into Nathan, unblinking, unwavering¡ªlike a predator that had finally cornered its prey. "Dog, Apollodorus?" Nathan repeated, his expression unreadable. The name meant nothing to him, but it was likely one of the crew members from the ship¡ªor perhaps even Aporos himself, assuming that "Aporos" was merely an alias. Nathan had been suspicious of the man from the start, and this only deepened his doubts. "You''re an enemy of Cleopatra, I assume?" he asked, taking a calculated guess. The masked man didn''t bother to answer. Instead, he lunged forward, his sword cutting through the wooden floor as if it were parchment. Nathan barely dodged in time, his eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. The speed and power behind that strike were unnatural. "So you want Pompey''s location¡ªto kill him," Nathan muttered, watching for a reaction. The man didn''t confirm, but the subtle tilt of his head and the way he held his blade suggested amusement, as if he were grinning beneath the golden mask. That was all Nathan needed. He had been attacked under the assumption that he was allied with Aporos, that he held some key information regarding Pompey''s whereabouts. Since Nathan had intentionally distanced himself from the others, he had made himself an ideal target¡ªor so this assassin had thought. The man wasted no time, closing the distance again with another swift, precise strike. His blade whistled through the air as he laughed, the eerie sound filling the room. "You better tell me where Pompey is!" he demanded, swinging with even greater force. The sword cleaved through the wooden wall behind Nathan, splitting straight into the adjacent room, sending splinters flying everywhere. But once again, Nathan had already moved, effortlessly avoiding the blow. The masked man''s eyes widened in shock. Nathan had reappeared behind him in an instant. Before the assassin could react, a sharp pain pierced his back¡ªNathan''s sword, driven clean through his body. The man gasped, blood bubbling at the edges of his lips. Yet, despite the mortal wound, he refused to fall. He spun, his hand reaching desperately for Nathan''s face, fingers trembling but determined to grasp anything. Nathan, however, was faster. He caught the man''s wrist mid-motion, and with a sharp twist, snapped it with ease. "GARGHH!!" The assassin''s agonized scream echoed through the inn. Nathan remained unmoved. With a brutal efficiency, he swept the man''s legs from under him, shattering his knees with a sickening crunch before pressing him down onto the floor. His boot pinned the assassin''s chest, holding him in place. Nathan''s gaze flickered toward the golden mask. "Let''s see who you really are," he murmured, reaching down to remove it. Chapter 359: Lucius Septimius Nathan''s gaze flickered toward the golden mask. "Let''s see who you really are," he murmured, reaching down to remove it. As Nathan removed the ornate golden mask, he couldn''t help but feel a flicker of surprise. The man beneath the mask did not resemble someone from the Amun Ra Empire. Instead, his features were distinctly Roman¡ªsharp, well-defined, with a strong jawline and an aquiline nose. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, but what struck Nathan most were his eyes. They glowed an eerie, unnatural red, pulsating like embers in a dying fire. "W... who are you?" the man stammered, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and pain. His gaze fixated on Nathan as though he were staring at some monstrous entity from his nightmares. Nathan''s blade remained steady at the man''s throat, the cold steel pressing just enough to remind him of the imminent threat. The mercenary had been one of the strongest, a seasoned warrior who had survived over a decade of bloodshed. His reputation was formidable¡ªfeared and respected among those who operated in the shadows of the empire. To serve the Pharaoh directly was an honor few could claim, yet here he was, utterly powerless before a single man. His pride, carefully built over years of relentless battle, shattered in mere moments. "That''s my question. Who are you?" Nathan''s voice was devoid of warmth, his expression unreadable beneath the dim moonlight. "L-Lucius Septimius..." the man stammered, his breathing ragged. "I... I serve the Pharaoh! I''m just a mercenary!" Nathan narrowed his eyes. "Lucius Septimius... interesting." He flicked his gaze to the golden mask lying beside them. "And why the mask?" Lucius hesitated for a moment before responding, his voice weak. "W-We mercenaries never show our faces... it''s a rule." Silence hung between them before Nathan suddenly burst into laughter¡ªa deep, resonant sound that echoed in the still night air. Lucius, still reeling from pain and confusion, could only stare. He had no idea what was so amusing, but the sight of his captor laughing so freely sent a chill down his spine. Nathan, however, could hardly contain his amusement. This was beyond ideal¡ªthis was perfection. The gods, fate, or sheer luck had delivered him the ideal opportunity on a silver platter. The man had unknowingly thrown himself into the wolf''s den. His mind worked rapidly, calculating the possibilities. If Lucius had been careful enough to keep his face hidden, then the Pharaoh and his subordinates had never actually seen him. That meant Nathan could assume his identity flawlessly. He grinned. "Tell me, Lucius. The Pharaoh¡ªhas he ever seen your face? What about the others?" "N-No... I''m just a mercenary, I¡ª" Lucius never finished his sentence. With a swift, fluid motion, Nathan drove his blade through the man''s heart. The mercenary''s eyes widened in shock before the life drained from them, his body slumping into the sand. A perfect kill¡ªsilent and efficient. Nathan exhaled slowly, feeling a strange satisfaction. This had been too perfect. Lucius Septimius was nearly the same height as him, though slightly bulkier. That wouldn''t be a problem. What mattered was the mask and the identity it represented. With it, he could slip into the Pharaoh''s inner circle without suspicion. Reaching down, Nathan retrieved the golden mask and held it up to the moonlight. A smirk tugged at his lips as he slid it over his face, adjusting it to fit perfectly. "From now on," he muttered under his breath, "I am Lucius Septimius." As he rummaged through Lucius''s belongings, his fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. He pulled it out¡ªa badge bearing the Pharaoh''s sigil, far more authentic than the one he had stolen from a noble earlier. This was the real thing. Nathan let out a quiet chuckle. Tonight, fortune had smiled upon him. Nathan stood before the mirror, watching as his reflection transformed. His hair, once its usual shade, slowly shifted to a stark white¡ªan exact replica of Lucius Septimius''s own. His eyes followed suit, adopting the same color, deepening the resemblance. Yet, beyond these changes, his face remained untouched. There was no need to go further¡ªsubtlety was key. Too drastic a shift might draw unnecessary attention, and he preferred to blend seamlessly into his new role rather than make a spectacle of it. He was no longer just Nathan. From this moment on, he would become Lucius Septimius in both appearance and action. With steady hands, he removed the Roman''s sleeveless tunic and the standard shoulder armor, carefully fastening them over his own body. The familiar weight of the attire settled on him, grounding him further in the role he was about to play. To complete the disguise, he took the emblem of the Pharaoh¡ªa mark of authority and recognition¡ªand clasped it securely around his arm. It was a simple addition, yet it held immense significance. Now, he could move even more freely. He had no need to lurk in the shadows anymore. With this identity, doors would open, people would listen, and suspicions would be kept at bay. As night fell, Nathan remained patient, waiting for the perfect moment. A subtle shift in the air alerted him¡ªit was time. Aporos and his men were stirring, making preparations to continue their journey. Silently, Nathan slipped out of the inn, his movements practiced and precise, as he trailed them from a safe distance. Their destination soon became apparent¡ªa dense forest, shrouded in darkness, its canopy rustling beneath the whispers of the wind. The moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting fractured beams of silver upon the dirt path they traveled. Nathan followed, his steps light, his breathing controlled. Then, without warning¡ªchaos. "She is escaping!" "Catch her!" The shouts tore through the night, sharp and urgent. Nathan''s eyes snapped toward the commotion, his gaze narrowing. A figure was fleeing¡ªa woman. She had been part of Aporos''s group, but Nathan had barely paid her any mind before. Now, in the frantic light of torches and the clamor of pursuit, he noticed her more clearly. Her arms had been bound, indicating she was no willing companion of theirs. Until now, she had ridden behind one of Aporos''s men, her presence unnoticed, her struggle silent. Yet, somehow, she had managed to break free, slipping down a steep hillside in a desperate bid for freedom. "Idiot! Catch her! We need her!" A female voice rang out, sharp with authority. Two men reacted instantly, scrambling down the slope in pursuit. Nathan remained still, observing. He hadn''t paid much attention to the woman during the boat trip. Now, as he pieced things together, memories resurfaced. He had noticed, vaguely, that food had been carried into one of the cabins¡ªplates disappearing behind closed doors, guards standing vigilant. "So it was for her..." he murmured to himself. But why? Who was this woman, and why did they need her so desperately? Then, a sudden outburst made everything clear. "Damn it! We need her for the negotiations with Pompey!" one of the men cursed, frustration dripping from his words. "Calm down," Aporos interjected, his voice composed. "Calm down? Do you have any idea what will happen if Queen Cleopatra finds out we lost her sister?!" Nathan''s breath stilled. Cleopatra''s sister? His mind worked rapidly, analyzing the implications. If she was being held captive, then it was likely she was considered an enemy of the Queen¡ªperhaps just like her brother. Was this a struggle for power, another pawn in the grand game of Egyptian politics? Aporos, gripping the reins tightly, glanced back at the commotion with little concern. His expression remained impassive as the torches flickered in the night, casting long shadows over the uneven ground. "She won''t get far," he said with certainty. "She''s bound, alone, and stumbling through a forest in the dark. They''ll catch her soon enough. We don''t have time to waste¡ªlet''s move." Without another word, he urged his horse forward, the beast galloping ahead. The rest of his men followed suit, hooves pounding against the earth as they disappeared into the trees. Nathan was about to continue tailing them, but something gave him pause. A new plan began to take shape in his mind. That girl¡ªCleopatra''s sister¡ªshe wasn''t just a captive. She was an opportunity. If he played this right, he could use her to further cement his position within the highest ranks of the Amun Ra Empire. By presenting himself as her savior, he could gain even deeper trust from the powerful elites. Once he secured their confidence, infiltrating their inner circle and uncovering the information he sought would be effortless. It wouldn''t take long. His decision made, Nathan turned his gaze toward the direction the girl had fled. Three of Aporos''s men had already gone after her, their hurried movements rustling through the undergrowth. Nathan smirked. Then, without hesitation, he moved. Silently, he slipped into the night, his footsteps light and precise as he pursued them. The girl ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her hands were still bound, making her escape all the more desperate. Her royal garments¡ªonce pristine, the very mark of her noble status¡ªwere now smeared with dirt and torn by the brambles she had pushed through. She was a vision of elegance despite her current state. Her complexion was a warm bronze, her slightly tanned skin kissed by the sun, bearing the natural radiance of Amun Ra''s royal bloodline. Jet-black locks tumbled down her back, loose and wild from the chase. Her deep blue eyes, striking as sapphires, shimmered with defiance even in fear. She was no ordinary girl. She was Arsinoe, the youngest daughter of the late Pharaoh¡ªthe very same Pharaoh who had fathered Cleopatra. She was the twin sister of the reigning Pharaoh, a princess of the highest birth. Chapter 360: Arsinoe She was Arsinoe, the youngest daughter of the late Pharaoh¡ªthe very same Pharaoh who had fathered Cleopatra. She was the twin sister of the reigning Pharaoh, a princess of the highest birth. Though she was born into royalty, Arsinoe had spent her last days in captivity, held prisoner by Aporos and his men¡ªloyal enforcers who served none other than her elder sister, Cleopatra. By rights and tradition, Cleopatra was indeed the legitimate heir to the throne, the one chosen to lead the Amun Ra Empire into the future. Yet, in the web of power struggles that ensnared their family, legitimacy alone was never enough. Arsinoe had not chosen this path of rebellion willingly. Aligning herself with her twin brother, Ptolemy XIII, had never been a true act of conviction but one of necessity. In truth, there had been no real choice to make. With the kingdom fractured and loyalties wavering, she had simply clung to the only lifeline available to her. To defy her brother would have been to stand alone, an impossibility in the ruthless world of imperial politics. The turmoil had begun in earnest after the death of their father, the previous Pharaoh. He had been a man of peace, beloved by the common folk for his gentleness and wisdom, yet scorned by the high nobility for those very same qualities. To them, his pacifism had been a sign of weakness, a fatal flaw in an era where power was measured by conquest and dominion. The Roman Empire, their ever-expanding neighbor, had already demonstrated that peace was a fragile illusion, one that could be shattered with the swing of a sword. The nobles feared that their kingdom would be next, swallowed whole by the relentless march of Roman legions. It was in response to this fear that the decision had been made¡ªthe summoning of Heroes. These warriors, called forth from realms unknown, possessed abilities beyond mortal comprehension. Their growth in strength was unparalleled, their skills unlike anything seen before. The nobility had hoped that the mere presence of such figures would serve as a deterrent, a force to make even the mighty Roman emperors hesitate. And while Rome did not quake in fear, the summoning had at least earned the wary acknowledgment of the three rulers who sat upon its thrones. They knew better than to ignore the power of the summoned. Yet, despite wielding such an invaluable asset, the Pharaoh had refused to use these Heroes as instruments of war. Instead, he had kept them as symbols, a mere force of deterrence rather than an army of conquest. It was a decision that had only deepened the discontent among the nobility. Their resentment simmered, unspoken but ever-present, until the Pharaoh''s death a year ago finally shattered the fragile balance. With her father gone, Cleopatra had stepped forward, ready to claim the throne she had been promised. She had adored her father, and he, in turn, had made his wishes clear¡ªhe had publicly declared that she would be his successor, leaving no room for doubt. But the nobles of the empire had refused to accept this decree. Not because Cleopatra was a woman, though tradition had long favored male rulers, but because they feared her¡ªdeeply, profoundly feared her. She was not merely intelligent; she was brilliant. Her mind was as sharp as any blade, her will as unyielding as the desert sun. Unlike her father, she had no patience for the games of manipulation played by the nobility. She was a woman who would never share power, never allow herself to be controlled by those who sought to pull the strings from behind the throne. And that made her dangerous. To them, a Pharaoh who could not be influenced was a threat far greater than the looming shadow of Rome itself. After the previous Pharaoh''s death, the opportunity the nobles had been waiting for finally arrived, and they had no intention of wasting it. They had long since sown the seeds of power within Cleopatra''s younger brother, feeding him carefully chosen words, nurturing his ego, and whispering promises of grandeur until he came to believe that the throne was rightfully his. Ptolemy XIII, who had shown little interest in ruling before, was now convinced that it was his duty to take the throne from his elder sister. The nobles had nothing left to do but pledge their unwavering support to him. They had orchestrated this power shift long before the Pharaoh''s passing, and when the time came, they executed their plan seamlessly. Cleopatra, once the uncontested heir, was unceremoniously pushed aside. But they did it in a way that enraged her beyond measure. They did not simply deny her the throne¡ªthey insulted her by offering her a compromise. Instead of ruling as Pharaoh in her own right, she was asked to share power with her younger brother, to stand beside him as a mere figurehead. Of course, Cleopatra rejected such an offer without hesitation, and the nobles had expected as much. They had never truly intended for her to rule alongside Ptolemy; this was merely a calculated move to cast her aside entirely, ensuring she would be seen as a rebellious figure rather than the rightful ruler. But in their scheming, they had severely underestimated Cleopatra''s ruthlessness. She did not sulk, nor did she retreat¡ªshe retaliated with blood. Assassins were hired, and within the grand halls of the palace, a silent massacre began. A killing spree that sent shockwaves through the court, one that nearly cost both Arsinoe and Ptolemy their lives. Arsinoe had been utterly unprepared for the carnage. She had spent her childhood sheltered within the palace, never truly understanding the depths of ambition and cruelty that thrived in the halls of power. But now, with her sister and brother locked in a deadly struggle, she was forced to choose a side. And in the end, she chose safety. Fear gripped her heart as she looked into the eyes of her elder sister, a woman willing to kill to reclaim her throne. Arsinoe realized that, as a member of the royal bloodline, she too was a threat. In Cleopatra''s eyes, she was a potential rival, a pretender to the throne, whether she sought power or not. And so, faced with an uncertain future, Arsinoe did what she thought was necessary¡ªshe aligned herself with her brother, believing that under his rule, she would at least be safe. But Cleopatra saw it differently. To her, Arsinoe''s choice was nothing less than betrayal. One fateful day, as Arsinoe ventured beyond the palace walls, Aporos and his men struck. They captured her with ease, acting under Cleopatra''s orders. Though it was Ptolemy XIII that Cleopatra truly wanted, Arsinoe served as an acceptable alternative. Stripping her brother of his sister''s support would weaken him further, and that was a victory in itself. But Arsinoe did not intend to remain a captive. She had no desire to become a pawn in her sister''s game. The moment she saw an opportunity, she knew she had to take it¡ªshe had to escape, no matter the cost. And so, she prepared herself, waiting for the perfect moment to slip through Cleopatra''s grasp before it was too late. And then, the perfect moment arrived. Gasping for breath, Arsinoe pushed herself forward, her legs burning with exhaustion as she tore through the dense forest. Twigs snapped beneath her feet, and the heavy rustling of leaves followed her every movement. She could hear the men chasing after her¡ªtheir boots pounding against the earth, their urgent shouts cutting through the silence of the night. Her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum. Her hands, still bound, fumbled desperately against the rough fibers of the rope. She twisted her wrists, struggling to loosen the tight knots, but they refused to budge. If this continued, she would be caught. Her frantic gaze darted around, searching for anything¡ªanything¡ªthat could help her. Spotting a thick, gnarled tree ahead, she forced herself toward it and ducked behind its massive trunk. Pressing her back against the rough bark, she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her panicked breaths to quieten. Her fingers resumed their desperate work, clawing at the rope with renewed urgency. "I won''t die like this..." she whispered under her breath, biting down on her trembling lips. How had it come to this? "F...Father..." The word barely escaped her lips, her voice fragile, almost lost to the wind. Her father had kept them all in line, his presence alone commanding obedience. She had never truly realized just how much strength it had taken¡ªuntil he was gone, and the world descended into chaos. A voice shattered her thoughts. "You didn''t run very far." Arsinoe''s eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, finding one of her pursuers standing before her, a smirk playing at his lips. She instinctively tried to step back, but the tree held her in place. Trapped. "If you run again, I''ll have to break your legs, Princess." His tone was casual, almost amused. "I don''t want to harm the Queen''s sister, but if you leave me no choice... well, orders are orders." Arsinoe froze. Her body screamed at her to move, to flee, to fight¡ªbut terror held her in its grip. The man took a step closer, then another. The smirk on his face widened as he reached for her. And then¡ª A flash of silver. A blur of movement. Steel pierced flesh. The man''s smirk vanished, replaced by a look of sheer agony as he staggered back, hands flying to his throat. Blood gushed between his fingers, staining the earth below. He let out a wet, gurgling gasp before crumpling to the ground, lifeless. Arsinoe''s breath came in quick, shallow bursts. She stumbled back, her hands flying to her mouth as she forced herself not to scream. She turned wildly, expecting to see another attacker, yet there was no one in sight. A presence loomed behind her. Before she could react, she spun around¡ªand crashed into something solid. Her forehead collided with a broad, unyielding surface¡ªarmor, gleaming under the moonlight in resplendent gold. A hand reached out, steadying her. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, into the eyes of the stranger who was either her saviour or worse... Chapter 361: Arsinoe (2) Before she could react, she spun around¡ªand crashed into something solid. Her forehead collided with a broad, unyielding surface¡ªarmor, gleaming under the moonlight in resplendent gold. A hand reached out, steadying her. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up, into the eyes of the stranger who was either her saviour or worse... The man stood before her, towering over her small frame, his entire face obscured by an ornate golden mask that gleamed ominously under the moonlight. The only visible part of his visage was a pair of piercing red eyes that shone through the narrow slits of the mask, cold and unreadable. A shiver of fear coursed through Arsinoe''s body as she instinctively stepped back, her breath hitching in her throat. "W...Who are you?!" she demanded, her voice laced with uncertainty and dread. Her pulse raced. The man had just slain her pursuer with an effortless precision that spoke of skill and ruthlessness. While she was relieved to see her captor dispatched, there was no guarantee that this stranger was her ally. In fact, the ease with which he had ended a life only served to heighten her wariness. The masked figure tilted his head slightly, as if assessing her, before raising his arm. The dim light revealed an intricately embroidered badge fastened to the fabric of his sleeve. "Don''t you recognize me?" His voice was calm, almost indifferent, yet tinged with an underlying curiosity. Arsinoe''s gaze flickered to the emblem, her brows furrowing. It was a symbol she knew well¡ªthe mark of the Pharaoh. Her tense posture eased slightly, but only just. "Y...You work for the Pharaoh? My brother?" she asked hesitantly, her voice carrying a sliver of hope. Then, as her eyes took in his attire¡ªrugged, practical, and undeniably that of a warrior-for-hire¡ªshe added, "A mercenary, right?" The man inclined his head in a slow nod. "My name is Lucius." Her breath caught in her throat at the name. "L...Lucius? Lucius Septimius?" she echoed, her blue eyes widening in shock. Nathan¡ªdisguised as Lucius¡ªwatched her reaction carefully. "You finally recognize me?" Had she met Septimius before? Or had she merely heard of him? "I''ve heard of you!" she exclaimed, her initial hesitation giving way to urgency. "Good! Then take me back to Alexandria! Quickly!" Nathan remained unmoved by her plea. He folded his arms over his chest, the cool metal of his vambraces catching the dim light as he regarded her with veiled amusement. "If you''ve heard of me, then you must know that I am a mercenary," he said, his tone firm. "And I don''t work for free." Arsinoe''s expression shifted from relief to disbelief. Her lips parted slightly before pressing into a thin line. "I am a Princess of the Amun Ra Empire," she said, straightening her posture, her voice carrying the authority befitting her royal status. "I am the sister of the Pharaoh, and yet you stand here demanding payment?" She frowned, her disbelief giving way to indignation. In the Amun Ra Empire, the Pharaoh was revered as a living god, his bloodline divine. Arsinoe and her sister Cleopatra had grown accustomed to absolute obedience. Wherever she had gone, her mere presence had commanded submission and loyalty. It was unthinkable that a mere sellsword would dare question her authority. Nathan, however, remained unfazed. "I need money and information first," he stated simply, his voice unwavering, leaving no room for negotiation. Arsinoe''s frustration mounted. "B-But they will be back!" she stammered, her gaze darting around the darkened ruins that surrounded them. Fear crept into her voice as she realized the peril of lingering here. Aporos'' remaining men were still out there, and it was only a matter of time before they tracked her down. Nathan regarded her with the same detached calm. "And?" Nathan''s voice was steady, almost amused. "You saw how easily I killed him. I can eliminate all of them just as effortlessly. There''s nothing for you to worry about... but first, I want my payment." "Payment? Do I look like I have anything to give you?" Arsinoe snapped, frustration flashing across her face. Nathan remained unfazed. "You can pay me later in gold," he said, his tone calm but firm. "But right now, I also need information." Arsinoe narrowed her eyes, suspicion creeping into her voice. "What kind of information?" Nathan''s red eyes gleamed through the mask. "The Heroes," he said slowly. "Tell me what deal your empire has with the Heroes of Light from the Second Summoning twenty years ago." Arsinoe''s expression shifted from irritation to confusion. "Heroes of Light? Second Summoning? What are you talking about?" Nathan frowned behind his mask. He had been watching her carefully, searching for any hint of deception, but she truly had no idea what he was referring to. That realization frustrated him. "Our Heroes were sent to the Empire of Light," Arsinoe said warily. "Why do you care about them?" Nathan exhaled, reigning in his irritation. "I don''t," he said, his voice even. "I need to speak with the Pharaoh." The portal that had brought him to the Amun Ra Empire had not been a coincidence. He was sure of that. While the explosion had scattered him, Ameriah, and Auria, they couldn''t have landed too far apart. And if Ameriah¡ªa princess¡ªwas involved, then someone with significant influence had a hand in it. He needed to confirm whether the Pharaoh and his court were complicit. Arsinoe straightened, sensing an opportunity. "You want to see my brother? Then take me back to Alexandria!" Nathan shook his head. "No. Go back on your own. They won''t follow you." Arsinoe''s brow furrowed in confusion. "W-Why? Didn''t you just say you wanted to see the Pharaoh?" Nathan''s posture stiffened slightly, and when he spoke again, his tone was icy. "Yes. But first, I will capture Pompey." Returning Arsinoe to the Pharaoh would undoubtedly grant him some of the information he sought. But Pompey was a far greater prize. He was wanted by the Pharaoh, by Cleopatra, and even by the Roman Empire. Getting Pompey was going to give him much more than merely the Pharaoh''s gratitude for saving his sister. And Nathan intended to have every advantage in his hands. Arsinoe''s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his words. The revelation struck her like a sudden gust of wind, her breath catching in her throat. "Pompey... the fallen Emperor?" she murmured, her voice laced with disbelief. Then, as realization dawned upon her, she looked directly at Nathan, her gaze sharp and searching. "I see. My brother sent you to kill him, didn''t he?" Nathan, of course, was not Lucius Septimius¡ªthe man truly sent to carry out Pompey''s assassination¡ªbut he had a role to play. Without betraying a hint of uncertainty, he simply gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. Though he had no definitive plans to end Pompey''s life, Nathan knew that capturing him alive could prove far more beneficial. The former Roman general still held value, and a man like him could be a powerful bargaining tool if handled correctly. "I will carry out my task," Nathan stated firmly, his voice carrying an air of finality. "Now leave." Arsinoe''s lips parted slightly as if she wished to argue, but after a brief hesitation, she relented with a small nod. Yet, just as she turned to go, something made her pause. A flicker of hesitation crossed her delicate features before she turned back to face him once more. "Did the Pharaoh give you any other orders?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with an emotion Nathan couldn''t quite place. Nathan narrowed his eyes slightly. "Like what?" She hesitated again, as though she were weighing her words carefully. "I don''t know... about Cleopatra?" Her tone was uncertain, almost vulnerable. She was searching for something¡ªan answer, an assurance, perhaps. But Nathan wasn''t in the business of comforting people. "What do you think he ordered?" he countered, his tone measured, watching her reaction closely. A tense silence settled between them before she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Did he... ask you to kill her?" Nathan studied her carefully. There was something raw in her expression, a mixture of emotions she was desperately trying to suppress. Was she genuinely concerned for Cleopatra''s life, even after everything that had transpired between them? Or was it something else¡ªa complex entanglement of resentment and sisterly loyalty? He decided to test her. "What does the Pharaoh''s decision have to do with you?" he asked coldly, his gaze unwavering. Arsinoe flinched, clearly taken aback by his response. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her knuckles turning white. "You¡ª!" she began, her voice rising, but she caught herself. With visible effort, she took a deep breath, steadying her emotions. When she spoke again, her words were slow and deliberate. "This is my order: Be it Pompey or Cleopatra, they are more useful alive than dead. If you kill either of them, you will make powerful enemies¡ªones you cannot afford to cross. You will be hunted, not just by the Empire of Ra, but by Rome itself. And in the end, you are just a mercenary. Disposable." She held his gaze for a moment longer, letting her warning sink in, before turning sharply on her heel and walking away without another word. Nathan watched her leave, his mind turning over her words. As much as he disliked admitting it, she had a point. Killing Pompey could very well place him at odds with Rome. He couldn''t be certain how Caesar and his allies viewed the man now, but Pompey had been a towering figure in the Empire. His execution, carried out by a mere hired blade in service of the Pharaoh, would not be taken lightly. Regardless, Nathan had no intention of following through with the assassination. His objective had changed¡ªPompey would be captured, not killed. With renewed determination, he turned swiftly and sprinted into the depths of the forest, his senses sharpened. He had no time to waste. Aporos and the others would be making their move soon, and when they found Pompey, Nathan needed to be there. Chapter 362: Pompey In the northern reaches of Pelusium, beyond the dense forest and near the vast shores, several dozen warships lay anchored. These were not mere vessels; they were formidable warships, each capable of carrying dozens of battle-hardened soldiers. Every ship bore the insignia of one of the three Roman Emperors¡ªGnaeus Pompeius Magnus, better known as Pompey. It was a strange sight, considering that Pompey was now branded an enemy of the Roman Empire. Yet, despite his fall from grace, he still commanded unwavering loyalty from his men¡ªsoldiers who had followed him from the very beginning. His army, though now exiled, remained his own, bound by years of service and allegiance. The other two emperors had armies of their own, fiercely loyal, ready to fight and die for them alone. The fractured nature of Rome''s leadership only deepened the turmoil. The shore was alive with the sights and sounds of an encampment stretching as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of tents were pitched across the beach, housing thousands of soldiers¡ªall under Pompey''s command. Fires flickered in the fading light, casting long shadows over the restless troops preparing for an inevitable confrontation. At the heart of the camp, standing tall among the sea of tents, was the largest and most well-guarded pavilion¡ªPompey''s command center. Inside, surrounded by his closest men, sat the once-mighty general himself. He was not an imposing figure in size, but his hardened features bore the marks of a seasoned warrior. Yet, for all his past victories, this was perhaps the most perilous battle he had ever faced. He was up against formidable enemies, including one he had once called a friend¡ªJulius Caesar, the man Pompey feared most, not just for his military brilliance but for his unmatched strength and cunning. The Roman Empire had sent Julius Caesar to hunt him down, and to make matters worse, the Amun Ra Empire had entered the fray as well. The extent of their involvement had only recently become clear to Pompey, but the implications were troubling. Seated in his chair, his expression was grim, his posture betraying his exhaustion. Sleep had eluded him for nights on end, and each new piece of intelligence he received only added to his growing unease. He picked up a parchment, his sharp eyes scanning the latest report. His hand tightened around the edges as he read the words, his mind racing. "Is this confirmed?" Pompey asked, his voice steady but laced with tension. One of his men, clad in the armor of a veteran soldier, stepped forward and gave a firm nod. "Yes, Emperor. Julius Caesar is set to meet the Pharaoh in Alexandria. It is likely they will strike an alliance and forge a deal to eliminate you." Pompey let out a derisive chuckle at his men''s words, the sound carrying a note of disbelief and scorn. A secret deal with the Pharaoh to bring down Julius Caesar? He wasn''t buying a single word of it. Such an idea was absurd¡ªpreposterous even. "He''s not meeting the Pharaoh to strike an alliance against himself," Pompey scoffed, shaking his head. His sharp eyes gleamed with certainty as he spoke. "He''s there for that boy-king. Mark my words, Caesar is planning to get that brat under his thumb. That child is easy to manipulate, and once he has him in his grasp, he''ll use him as a pawn to seize control over the entire Amun-Ra Empire." There was no hesitation in Pompey''s voice. He knew Julius Caesar too well to believe otherwise. That man¡ªno, that force of nature¡ªwas unrelenting in his ambition. His idol, his role model, had always been Alexander the Great. And like Alexander, Caesar was not satisfied with mere victories or fleeting glories. No, his sights were set on something far grander¡ªeternal renown. Julius Caesar did not merely wish to match Alexander''s fame. He wanted to surpass it. To carve his name into history with such force that it could never be erased. He wanted to stand above all others, not as one of Rome''s greatest leaders, but as the singular and undisputed ruler of the world. And his conquest was beginning here, with the Amun-Ra Empire. Pompey had once called himself Caesar''s friend, had once fought alongside him, had once respected him. But that respect had long since turned into wary recognition of the monster growing behind that charming, charismatic fac?ade. Caesar was not just a great leader¡ªhe was a phenomenon, an unrelenting storm of intelligence, strength, and sheer willpower. And he had everything he needed to succeed. He had the support of a formidable army. He had the favor of the Pope, a blessing that gave him legitimacy in the eyes of the masses. He had influence so vast it reached every corner of the Roman Empire. And most importantly¡ªhe had fear. Yes, respect was too generous a word for what the Roman Senate felt toward him. It was fear that kept them from opposing him, fear that silenced his critics before they could gather strength. Everyone knew that standing against Julius Caesar was tantamount to signing one''s own death warrant. He was ruthless when it came to his ambitions, a man who would let nothing¡ªno person, no law, no principle¡ªstand in his way. If an obstacle appeared before him, he would crush it without hesitation. And Pompey knew, without a shred of doubt, that Caesar had orchestrated the campaign of slander and hostility against him. The Senate''s sudden antagonism, the whispers of betrayal, the systematic stripping of his power¡ªit all had Caesar''s hand behind it. Whether through bribes, coercion, or sheer fear-mongering, Caesar had turned the Senate against him, ensuring that Rome itself saw him as a threat rather than a hero. Because Julius Caesar did not wish to share power. He did not want to rule as one of Rome''s leaders. He wanted to be its only ruler, its only Emperor. And for that to happen, there could be no rivals. Pompey had foreseen this long ago. He had anticipated the betrayal and had made his own moves to counter it. But Caesar¡ªdamn him¡ªwas always a step ahead. He had twisted Pompey''s own actions against him, used them as fuel to justify his rise, and turned Rome''s gaze away from himself and onto his former ally. What had begun as a battle of strategy had become a game of survival, and Pompey knew all too well that Caesar would not rest until he had erased him completely from the board. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he exhaled sharply. No, he would not let that happen. If Caesar wanted a war, then so be it. Pompey had no intention of going down without a fight. Pompey stood amidst the flickering lamplight of his command tent, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he listened to his men speak. "Should we leave Pelusium, Emperor?" one of his officers asked hesitantly, his voice edged with concern. "It may be the wiser course," another added. "Caesar is expected to reach Alexandria by tomorrow, and he won''t be alone." The implications were clear. If Julius Caesar had traveled this far, leaving the heart of the Roman Empire and bringing an army into the lands of the Amun-Ra Empire, it was not simply to display his military might. Caesar was not a man who wasted time or resources on empty gestures. If he had come, he had come with purpose. A decisive, ruthless purpose. Pompey knew exactly what that purpose was. The army marching toward them was not for show¡ªit was meant for battle. And Pompey was certain that battle was meant for him. But he would not allow Caesar to defeat him again. "No," Pompey declared, his voice firm and unwavering. "We hold our position. We wait until our forces are complete." He was still awaiting the arrival of the rest of his fleet. More ships, carrying men and supplies, were set to join them by noon or at the latest, early tomorrow morning. He would not move until his full strength was assembled. Only then would he face Caesar on equal footing. "Emperor!" The tense silence of the tent was abruptly shattered as a soldier burst through the entrance, panting from exertion. His eyes were wide with urgency. Pompey turned sharply, his gut twisting. "What is it?" he asked, bracing himself for yet another piece of bad news. But this time, it was not what he feared. "We have received a group of envoys!" the soldier reported breathlessly. "They claim to be allies of Queen Cleopatra!" Chapter 363: Alliance? "We have received a group of envoys!" the soldier reported breathlessly. "They claim to be allies of Queen Cleopatra!" Pompey and everyone inside the tent widened their eyes in surprise at the mention of Cleopatra. They were all well aware of the woman whose beauty was spoken of in legends, rumored to be so extraordinary that some even considered her divine. She had been chosen by her father as the rightful heir to the throne of the Amun-Ra Empire, set to become the next Pharaoh. However, that destiny had been cruelly stolen from her¡ªstripped away by her own brother and the powerful forces manipulating him from behind the scenes. After her forced exile from Alexandria, rumors had swirled of her preparations for an assault to reclaim her throne and her birthright. Yet, few had taken these whispers seriously, dismissing them as the desperate fantasies of a dethroned queen. "Let them in," Pompey ordered without hesitation, his interest now fully piqued. If Cleopatra''s allies had come this far seeking him out, it was certainly not for a mere courtesy visit. Minutes later, the entrance to the tent parted, and several figures stepped inside. At their forefront stood a man of refined bearing, his confident expression carrying an air of diplomacy and purpose. "I greet you, Emperor Pompey. Allow me to introduce myself," the man spoke smoothly, offering a respectful nod. "I am Apollodorus, Cleopatra''s close advisor." Pompey''s gaze remained sharp as he studied the man before him. "Cleopatra''s advisor? I wonder why you have come all this way," he asked, though he already had his suspicions. Apollodorus smiled knowingly. "We find ourselves in a precarious situation, Emperor. Both you and my Queen, the rightful Pharaoh of the Amun-Ra Empire, have been betrayed by your own lands¡ªcast aside despite all that you have done for them." His words struck a chord. And he wasn''t wrong. Their situations bore undeniable similarities. "My Queen has sent me to propose an alliance," Apollodorus finally declared, his voice steady and assured. Pompey leaned forward slightly, his interest deepening. "An alliance, you say? Interesting. But tell me¡ªwhat do I stand to gain from such an arrangement?" If Cleopatra sought his aid, he needed to know precisely what kind of support she could offer in return. Apollodorus, clearly anticipating the question, maintained his composed smile. "Emperor, you may not yet be fully aware, as you have not been closely involved with the affairs of the Amun-Ra Empire, but let me tell you this¡ªCleopatra has always been the ruler the people wanted. Even now, though her brother sits upon the throne, the people do not accept him. They have never truly recognized his rule." Pompey stood tall, his expression stern as he wasted no time in addressing the matter at hand. "How many men do you have?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of a seasoned general accustomed to war. Apollodorus, standing with unwavering confidence, met his gaze without hesitation. "Two thousand," he answered simply. The response was met with derisive laughter from Pompey''s men. Their amusement echoed through the chamber, their scorn evident. To them, an army of merely two thousand seemed laughable, insignificant against the might of a true military force. "Two thousand?" Pompey repeated, his brow furrowing in disbelief. Apollodorus, unfazed by their mockery, allowed a small smile to play at the corners of his lips. "Yes, for now, we only have two thousand because my Queen is being hunted. However, if we succeed in reclaiming Alexandria and restoring Queen Cleopatra to her rightful throne, she will regain full control over the Amun Ra Empire. That includes its vast military forces, all of which will once again be under her command." Pompey crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "So, you are asking me to attack Alexandria?" There was no emotion in his voice, only calculated inquiry. "Yes," Apollodorus affirmed without hesitation. "This alliance will benefit us both." Pompey tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And what do I gain in return?" His voice carried the sharpness of a man who had spent his life making political calculations. Apollodorus did not waver. "Once Queen Cleopatra is reinstated as ruler of the Amun Ra Empire, she will pledge her army to your cause. With her forces at your disposal, you will have the strength to challenge Julius Caesar, reclaim your former power, and reassert your position within the Roman Empire." Pompey fell silent, the weight of the offer settling over him. It was exactly what he desired¡ªan opportunity to bring down that arrogant usurper, Caesar, and reclaim the authority that had been unjustly stripped from him. It was an enticing proposal, one that promised both vengeance and restoration. And yet, there were risks to consider. His eyes darkened with suspicion as he fixed Apollodorus with a penetrating stare. "How can I trust your Queen?" he asked, his voice laced with doubt. "She does not even have the courage to stand before me and present her own plan. Why should I put my faith in her?" Pompey had every reason to be wary. Cleopatra was a woman of ambition and intelligence, but could she be trusted? What if she turned against him the moment she had her throne back? Would she truly risk war with Rome for his sake? The consequences of misplaced trust could be catastrophic. Apollodorus, rather than appearing offended, smiled as if he had anticipated this very question. "That is precisely why my Queen has proposed something more binding¡ªa sacred alliance through marriage." His words sent a shockwave through the chamber. "Marriage?" Pompey repeated, taken aback. His men, who had been so quick to scoff earlier, now exchanged stunned glances. The room, once filled with laughter, was now heavy with stunned silence. "Yes," Apollodorus continued smoothly. "You will become the husband of the Pharaoh of the Amun Ra Empire. Such a union would solidify your position and force the Roman Empire to reconsider their stance on your exile." The implications were clear. If Pompey, once a revered Roman general, suddenly became the consort of Egypt''s ruler, Rome would be compelled to rethink its decision. The political influence he would gain from such a marriage would make him too valuable to remain banished. Pompey did not respond immediately. He knew that this was not just a simple proposal of war¡ªit was a bid for power, a strategic move that could reshape his entire fate. Pompey remained silent for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly against his arm as he pondered the proposition. Then, a smirk curved his lips. "Your Queen is indeed as intelligent as I have heard," he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. Apollodorus nodded, his smile unwavering. "Every rumor about her is true. She is the goddess of the Amun Ra Empire, both in beauty and in mind." Pompey considered his words carefully before giving a curt nod. "Very well. My army will march toward Alexandria, but only once I have met your Queen face to face. I will return her throne to her, but not before that." Apollodorus bowed slightly in acknowledgment. "My Queen will be here soon. You need not worry." BA-DOOOOM! Before he could say another word, a thunderous explosion echoed through the air, shaking the ground beneath them. "What in Hades?!" Pompey exclaimed, his instincts kicking in as he reached for his sword. The tent flaps burst open as soldiers rushed outside to assess the situation. Pompey and Apollodorus followed quickly, their eyes scanning the scene before them. And then they saw him. A lone warrior stood amidst the chaos, clad in a flowing black cloak and donning an ominous golden mask. His blade, already slick with fresh blood, cut through Pompey''s men with lethal precision. One after another, they fell, unable to withstand the sheer speed and force of his attacks. Pompey''s eyes widened as recognition dawned upon him. He whispered the name almost involuntarily, "Septimius..." Apollodorus turned to him sharply, surprised. "You know him?" Pompey''s jaw clenched. "Lucius Septimius... He was one of my best mercenaries. I hired him not long ago, but after my banishment, he vanished." Apollodorus frowned, shaking his head. "No. He is not with Caesar. He is currently under the service of the Pharaoh." Pompey''s expression darkened with rage. "That traitorous dog..." he spat, his grip tightening on his weapon. But Pompey could not have known the truth. The man behind the golden mask was not Lucius Septimius at all. It was Nathan. Nathan moved through the ranks of Pompey''s soldiers with terrifying ease, dispatching them in mere moments. Their armor did nothing to protect them; their swords barely had time to be raised before he ended their lives. His crimson-stained blade gleamed under the flickering light of burning torches. Then, his gaze settled on Pompey. "That must be him," Nathan thought, a smile playing at his lips. Then, in the blink of an eye, he vanished. "Watch out!" Apollodorus shouted, sensing imminent danger. Without hesitation, he leaped in front of Pompey, raising his arms in a defensive stance. BADAM! The impact was instantaneous. A devastating kick landed against Apollodorus''s arms with such overwhelming force that he felt his bones crack under the pressure. The sheer power sent a shockwave through his body. He gritted his teeth, trying to endure the pain, but it was too much. "He''s strong...!" Apollodorus thought in alarm, his muscles straining to withstand the force. But in the next moment, his resistance shattered. He was hurled backward at full speed, crashing violently into a nearby tent, bringing it down in a heap of torn fabric and splintered wood. "Y-You miserable¡ªGHHH!!" Pompey barely had time to curse before a cold, vice-like grip wrapped around his throat. His eyes bulged in shock as he felt his feet lift off the ground. Nathan had him. Effortlessly, as if carrying nothing more than a sack of grain, Nathan vanished once more¡ªdragging Pompey along with him, disappearing into the shadows like a phantom of death. Chapter 364: Cleopatras last plan Apollodorus stood frozen, his mind struggling to process the carnage before him. His body ached, but the pain was nothing compared to the horror that gripped his thoughts. Slowly, with the help of his men, he rose to his feet, his boots sinking into the thick, crimson-soaked sand. All around him lay the remains of his comrades¡ªdozens of lifeless bodies sprawled across the bloodstained ground, their expressions frozen in the agony of their final moments. Yet, among the dead, one figure was conspicuously absent. His breath hitched as a dreadful realization took hold. His lips parted, and though he already knew the answer, the question escaped him in a whisper, almost involuntarily. "Where is he?" Silence hung heavy in the air before one of his men finally responded. "Septimius took him away..." The words sent a chill down Apollodorus''s spine. His hands clenched into trembling fists, his nails digging into his palms. How? How could this have happened? Lucius Septimius had come out of nowhere, a specter in the chaos, tearing through their forces with an effortless brutality. And in the blink of an eye, he had stolen away one of Rome''s most powerful men¡ªGnaeus Pompeius Magnus, Pompey the Great. Gone. Just like that. "He must have followed us," another soldier muttered, his voice tinged with unease. Apollodorus''s head snapped toward him, his eyes narrowing. "Followed us? How? We were meticulous! We made certain no one was trailing us!" His voice rose, tinged with frustration, but deep inside, doubt gnawed at him. "We may never know," the soldier admitted grimly. "But it doesn''t matter now. Apollodorus, there''s more... The men we sent after Arsinoe¡ªthey never returned." A dark premonition settled over him. He could already guess their fate, but he needed to hear it. "They''re dead," a woman at his side confirmed, her voice calm yet cold. "Killed by Septimius probably." The words rang like a death knell in his ears. "He was likely sent by the Pharaoh," she continued, her sharp gaze meeting Apollodorus''s own. "Perhaps his mission was to retrieve Arsinoe... or perhaps to capture Pompey... or maybe both. Whatever the case, he succeeded." Apollodorus exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. So that was it. Not only had they lost Pompey, but now Arsinoe was gone as well. Cleopatra would be furious. His teeth ground together audibly as frustration boiled inside him. Everything had crumbled so quickly. How had Septimius managed to orchestrate this so perfectly? Had they unknowingly paved the way for him? "We led him straight to what he needed," he muttered bitterly. The woman beside him nodded solemnly. "I always knew Lucius Septimius was strong... but this?" She shook her head. "We were powerless against him. If we stand against him now, we''ll lose again. We need to find another way, Apollodorus." But he wasn''t listening. A realization was dawning on him¡ªone that made his blood run cold. His eyes slowly turned toward a masked figure standing among the remaining men. Lucius Septimius... His mind reeled. Don''t tell me... A memory surfaced, clearer than ever¡ªthe image of a man he had ferried across the waters, a man who had introduced himself simply as "Lucius." Could it be...? Could they be the same person? It would explain everything¡ªhow Septimius had been able to strike so precisely, how he had known where to be and when. But then, had the man really used his real name when introducing himself? Or had it all been part of a carefully woven deception? A calculated move from the very beginning? Apollodorus''s stomach twisted. Had he, without realizing it, been the one to bring disaster upon them all? Had he been the one to deliver Pompey straight into the hands of his enemy? The weight of his mistake pressed down on him like an iron vice, suffocating and unrelenting. This... was his doing. Apollodorus felt a deep unease settle in his gut as he replayed the events in his mind. That man Lucius had shown a keen interest in Pompey from the very beginning. Yet, at the time, Apollodorus had thought nothing of it. He had been so blind, so utterly oblivious to the signs. Had Lucius truly been trying to hide his intentions? Perhaps. But if so, he had done so masterfully. Or maybe... he hadn''t needed to hide anything at all. Now that Apollodorus thought about it, Lucius¡ªhad always carried himself with an air of unsettling calm. He had been too relaxed, too casual. A man with a hidden agenda would have shown at least some hesitation, some slip in his act. But there had been none. His nonchalance had made it impossible to suspect him¡ªnot as a spy, and certainly not as Lucius Septimius himself. How had Apollodorus failed to see through it? How had he allowed such a monumental mistake to happen right under his nose? Yet there was no time to dwell on his failure. The air inside the camp was thick with tension, and the atmosphere grew more chaotic by the minute. Panic had taken hold not just among Apollodorus''s men but also among Pompey''s remaining forces. The weight of their loss was suffocating. The Roman general¡ªone of the greatest military minds of their time¡ªwas gone. Just like that. Without Pompey, his men were left directionless, uncertain of what to do next. And Apollodorus? He had no words of guidance to offer them. There was nothing he could say that would change the reality of their situation. In the end, Pompey''s men made their decision. They climbed back onto their ships, their expressions a mix of grief and grim determination. They knew the risk was too great. If Lucius Septimius had come this far, then what were the chances that an army wasn''t following in his wake? The Pharaoh had set his pieces in motion, and the Romans had no intention of staying behind to be slaughtered. Without hesitation, they chose to flee. They would leave the Amun-Ra Empire behind, abandoning their fallen leader to whatever fate awaited him. There was no other choice. Apollodorus and his men could only stand in silence, watching as the Roman ships drifted away, their sails vanishing into the horizon. It was over. A complete failure. Even if they had demanded Pompey''s men to stay, to fight, what would have been the point? The battle was already lost. For a long moment, no one spoke. The weight of their defeat pressed down on them like an invisible force, suffocating and unbearable. Then, breaking the silence, one of Apollodorus''s men stepped forward, holding a small, rectangular object¡ªa magical tablet. The moment it was activated, a voice emerged from within. "What happened?" The sound sent a shiver through everyone present. It was a voice of unparalleled beauty, smooth and charming, yet in this moment, it carried an unmistakable coldness. It was Cleopatra. Apollodorus inhaled sharply, bracing himself. He had no choice but to answer. "Lucius Septimius," he began, his voice low and measured. "One of Ptolemy''s men... He took Pompey." His jaw tightened. "For all we know, he could already be dead." A chilling silence followed. Apollodorus could almost feel Cleopatra''s emotions through the magical link¡ªher quiet rage, her seething frustration. This was a devastating loss. The alliance with Pompey had been her greatest hope in reclaiming her empire, and now, because of his failure, it was gone. He expected her to lash out. To curse his incompetence. To demand how he had allowed this to happen. But instead, she remained calm. Too calm. Then, she spoke again. "Join me in Alexandria." Apollodorus''s breath caught in his throat. "A-Alexandria?!" His shock was evident in his tone. Had he misheard her? Alexandria was the last place Cleopatra should be! The city was filled with Ptolemy''s loyal guards, his spies lurking in every corner. If she set foot there, she would be captured within moments and dragged before her brother. And this time... he might truly kill her. His heart pounded in his chest. Was she mad? Or did she have a plan? The weight of uncertainty hung thick in the air as Apollodorus hesitated before speaking. His voice was laced with unease, his words heavy with warning. "My Queen, this... this is far too dangerous. I do not know what you are thinking, but I must implore you¡ªthis is reckless," he said, his concern unmistakable. Cleopatra, however, remained unfazed. Her gaze was steady, her mind already set in motion. Apollodorus had known her for years, yet he could never fully predict her next move. He had ventured alone into Alexandria, risking his life in the shadows, because a direct approach had been impossible. The city was heavily fortified, and the slightest misstep could draw the attention of those who wished to see Cleopatra eliminated. How could they possibly infiltrate without attracting too much attention? Even with all their careful planning, slipping past the watchful eyes of the Pharaoh''s guards and the Roman envoys would be no small feat. There was a reason he had always worked alone in these matters¡ªespionage was best conducted in silence, in secrecy. But Cleopatra? She had never been one to cower in the darkness. Her voice, calm yet unwavering, broke through his hesitation. "Julius Caesar will meet my brother at the palace." A pause, deliberate and telling. "I will be there." Apollodorus stiffened. His breath hitched as realization struck him like a sudden gust of wind. His dark eyes widened, the implications of her words sinking in with undeniable clarity. "No... My Queen, surely you are not thinking of¡ª" Cleopatra remained silent, but her expression spoke volumes. This was no reckless impulse; it was calculated risk, a last attempt at securing her throne. They had once placed their faith in Pompey, believing him to be the easier target for an alliance, a potential key to solidifying her rule. But Pompey was gone, reduced to nothing more than a grim memory. That path had crumbled before them, and now only one option remained. Julius Caesar. Yet, this was an even greater gamble. The Roman general had been summoned by the empire to negotiate with her brother, the current Pharaoh. His presence in Alexandria meant that Rome still sought an alliance with the Amun-Ra Empire¡ªnot with her. To approach him was to risk everything. If she failed, there would be no escape. No second chances. Death would be the only certainty. And yet... Cleopatra''s resolve did not waver. "Join me in Alexandria," she commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Then, without waiting for his response, she severed the connection. Apollodorus stood frozen, the fading echoes of her words lingering in the air. A slow exhale left his lips as he closed his eyes. There was no stopping her now. They would go to Alexandria. Chapter 365: Questions for Pompey The small boat rocked gently against the dark waters of the Nile as it pushed away from the harbor of Pelusium under cover of night. A soft breeze carried the scent of brine and distant desert, but Nathan barely noticed. His thoughts were focused, sharp, cold. The moonlight filtered through thin clouds above, casting silver light upon the deck where he stood, eyes scanning the horizon with practiced caution. He had no time to waste. His plan had been put into motion swiftly and without hesitation. The moment Pompey had fallen into his grasp, Nathan had purchased a vessel in haste, throwing coin and threat alike at the nearest dockhands until a crew was assembled¡ªsilent, loyal, or at the very least, bought enough to look the other way. Alexandria awaited. And with Pompey bound and silenced, Nathan was bringing more than a prisoner to the capital¡ªhe was bringing leverage. Pompey, stripped of his once-glorious armor, now wore the rags of a common traveler. Nathan had disguised him well¡ªsimple linen robes clung to his form, and his face was concealed beneath layers of cloth, wrapped loosely to mimic the look of a desert wanderer shielding himself from the sun. To the outside world, Nathan appeared to be nothing more than a grim mercenary escorting a subdued captive. If Pompey had any pride left, it was suffocating beneath that disguise. The former general had considered resistance¡ªperhaps he still did. But he was no fool. They were deep in hostile lands, and his situation was precarious. To scream or draw attention would not only be foolish¡ªit would be suicidal. Even without Nathan''s chilling threat to slice out his tongue should he utter a single word, Pompey knew the truth: he had no allies here. Not anymore. And strangely enough, his captor had not killed him. That alone kept him wary, if not hopeful. Beneath the deck, hidden from the crew''s eyes and from the starlit night, Pompey knelt on the wooden floor of a small, dimly lit chamber. His wrists were bound behind his back, the rough rope biting into his skin. Sweat beaded on his brow from the humid air, but his glare remained ice-cold. He stared upward, defiant, unyielding. Nathan loomed over him, clad in dark leather and wrapped in a worn cloak. A half-mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes visible¡ªeyes that studied Pompey with unreadable intensity. The dim flicker of the oil lamp danced across his figure, throwing shadows against the walls and making the narrow room feel smaller, tighter... more suffocating. "You have no idea who you''re dealing with," Pompey growled, his voice low but laced with venom. "Do you know who I am?" Nathan tilted his head slightly, amused. "Do you truly believe I''d go through the trouble of kidnapping someone without knowing exactly who they are?" he replied, voice cold, almost mocking. Pompey''s lips curled in disdain. "You''ve worked for me. Then you should know the influence I carry¡ªthe connections I can summon with a word. Whatever you think you''re doing, you''re walking into your own grave. Release me, and I''ll forget your betrayal. Hell, I''ll reward you¡ªfar more than whatever pitiful reason you have for this stunt." Nathan said nothing. His eyes remained locked on the fallen Roman general, unreadable beneath the mask, but unflinching. This wasn''t how things were supposed to go for Pompey. Not now. He had been so close. So damn close to turning everything around. An alliance with Cleopatra would have restored his power, rebalanced the scales, made Rome reconsider his place in history. But now... he was a prisoner, and every moment they drew closer to Alexandria felt like a death sentence drawing nearer. He knew what the Pharaoh wanted. He could imagine the smug grin on that boy-king''s face, how he''d present Pompey''s severed head to Julius Caesar like an obedient lapdog hoping for a pat on the head. A gift, wrapped in blood and treachery. The irony stung. Betrayed not by his enemies... but by someone he once paid. Yet still, he clung to hope. Nathan hadn''t killed him. That meant something. Or maybe, it meant the end would come slower than he feared. Nathan stood in silence, his white hair catching the dim flicker of the torchlight. His gaze, sharp as a drawn blade, remained locked onto the man seated across from him. There was no emotion on his face¡ªno anger, no curiosity¡ªjust an unnerving stillness that made even the shadows seem hesitant to move. Pompey, bound by enchanted manacles that sapped his strength, shifted uncomfortably. Despite his disheveled state, the pride of a once-powerful Roman noble still clung to him like a second skin. Breaking the silence, Pompey cleared his throat and spoke again, his voice hoarse but defiant. "How much did the Pharaoh pay you? I can double it. Triple, if that''s what you want." Nathan didn''t so much as blink. His voice, when it finally came, was cold and detached, like winter wind whispering through dead leaves. "I''m the one asking the questions," he said flatly. "Answer them. That would be a good start." Pompey raised an eyebrow, clearly unused to being ignored. Still, he relented with a slight shrug. "Questions, then. Go ahead." Nathan''s eyes narrowed slightly. "Did the Roman Empire ever summon Heroes from other worlds?" Pompey''s reaction was immediate. He straightened in his seat, indignation flashing across his face. "What? No! The Roman Empire would never resort to such blasphemy." His tone was laced with offense, as if the mere suggestion was an insult to Roman dignity. He shook his head with disbelief, then spat on the ground. "We are not some backwater kingdom relying on foreign gods or magic rituals. The might of Rome stands on its own. We don''t need summoning spells or divine interventions." Nathan observed him carefully. The outburst didn''t faze him. "Have they ever worked with Heroes?" Nathan pressed, leaning slightly closer. "Even if they didn''t summon them¡ªdid they collaborate? Form alliances? Recently?" Pompey looked away, frowning as if the thought hadn''t occurred to him. His voice grew quieter, tinged with reluctant consideration. "Recently? How would I know? I''ve been in exile for a year. Maybe things have changed. But in my time, Rome didn''t crawl to Heroes for help." There was a pause¡ªbrief, but pregnant with thought. Nathan didn''t break the silence, giving Pompey time to think. Then, something shifted in Pompey''s expression. A wrinkle formed on his brow. His gaze drifted to the ground as if chasing a memory that had just resurfaced. "...But," he muttered, brows drawing tighter. Nathan leaned forward. "But what?" Pompey hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "I remember hearing whispers... back in the Senate. Names I didn''t recognize. Talks of strange powers and foreign warriors. It wasn''t official, not that I know of, but... there was talk. If you want more than that, you''ll have to go to Rome. That''s where the truth lies." Nathan didn''t move, but his eyes sharpened like a hawk zeroing in on prey."Who did you hear it from? Are you sure it wasn''t about the Heroes of the Amun-Ra Empire?" Pompey shook his head slowly. "No... it wasn''t about Amun-Ra. I remember because Crassus mentioned it. Not directly, but I overheard. They weren''t talking about the Pharaoh''s dogs. These Heroes... they spoke of freedom. Aid. And something else¡ª" He paused, squinting, struggling to recall the details. "Something that happened twenty years ago," he finally said, uncertainly. Nathan''s breath hitched ever so slightly. Twenty years ago. That wasn''t just a random number. That was the exact timeframe when the second summoning had occurred. Coincidence? Perhaps. But in a world like this, coincidences were often just secrets waiting to be revealed. For the first time in the conversation, a flicker of emotion passed through Nathan''s usually unreadable eyes¡ªinterest. Hope, even. This was the first solid lead he''d had in a long time. And it pointed straight to Rome. But how in the seven hells was he supposed to reach Rome¡ªthe beating heart of the Roman Empire? Not just the city, but the Senate itself. The Roman Senate, where the most powerful men in the Empire gathered¡ªconsuls, generals, patricians cloaked in togas dyed with imperial purple. It wasn''t just a council hall. It was a fortress of politics, of iron wills and unshakable pride. Layers of bureaucracy, layers of security, and layers of arrogance protected it. No outsider simply walked into the Senate. For someone like Nathan¡ªan enemy of one empire, a mystery to another¡ªit would be nothing short of madness to try. And yet... what choice did he have? Before he could sink deeper into that spiral of thoughts, Pompey''s voice cut through the silence like a blade across cloth. "I''ve answered your questions," Pompey said, his tone serious, stripped of all earlier sarcasm or negotiation. "Now answer mine. Are you planning to take my head to the Pharaoh?" There was no fear in his eyes. Only grim acceptance. "If that''s the case," he added coldly, "do it quickly." Nathan''s gaze slowly returned to Pompey, his expression unreadable as always. For a moment, neither man spoke. The air between them was still and tense, like the final moment before a storm breaks. Then Nathan responded, his voice calm but firm. "No," he said simply. "I''ll bring you alive." Pompey blinked, visibly caught off guard. Nathan turned toward the darkened exit of the chamber. Torchlight danced along the stone walls, casting long shadows behind him. "We''re going to Alexandria." Chapter 366: The arrival of Caesar On this particular day, Alexandria, the radiant jewel of the Amun Ra Empire, pulsed with a rare and vibrant energy. The city, often cloaked in the quiet dignity of its ancient glory, was now alive with anticipation, its people crowding the marble streets, whispering rumors with wide eyes and eager voices. The cause of this unprecedented excitement? None other than the arrival of the legendary Julius Caesar and his formidable Roman legions. Julius Caesar¡ªan immortal name that echoed through the halls of power across the known world¡ªwas not merely a general. He was one of the triad of great emperors who had carved their names into the legacy of the Roman Empire. Among them, he stood as the most renowned, the most successful, and the most feared. His conquests, political brilliance, and military genius had reshaped the map of the West. Now, for the first time, he set foot in Alexandria not as a conqueror, but as a guest. He came seeking an alliance with the Pharaoh, a gesture both unexpected and unsettling. The citizens of the Amun Ra Empire, steeped in centuries of tradition and pride, struggled to make sense of this diplomatic endeavor. Whispers swirled through the city like desert winds¡ªsome hopeful, others anxious. Could trust be placed in the hands of the Romans, their ancient rivals? For millennia, the Roman Empire had been a looming presence, a neighbor whose shadow stretched long across the borders of the Amun Ra Empire. Peace between the two had always been fragile, interrupted by frequent clashes, bloodshed, and the clash of swords under blazing suns. Long ago, in a forgotten age, it had been the Amun Ra Empire that stood dominant¡ªmighty, revered, and feared. Its chariots once thundered across battlefields while Roman commanders trembled at the mention of the Pharaoh''s legions. But time, relentless and impartial, had shifted the balance of power. Centuries passed like grains of sand in an eternal hourglass. The once-mighty Amun Ra Empire began to wane, its influence receding like the Nile in drought. Meanwhile, Rome rose¡ªunyielding, ever-expanding, and ruthless in its pursuit of supremacy. The Roman military became a force to be reckoned with, its discipline unmatched, its strategies revolutionary. Yet, despite Rome''s growing strength, there remained one domain where the Amun Ra Empire held a superiority so vast that it seemed untouchable¡ªwealth. The riches of the Amun Ra Empire were legendary. Gold flowed like water from its mines, spices perfumed its markets, and jewels adorned the palaces of nobles like stars scattered across a velvet sky. Their temples glittered in the sunlight, their treasuries deep and endless. This immense wealth was no secret to the Roman Empire. In fact, it was a source of envy, a treasure trove they longed to touch. Some in Rome even dreamed of one day bringing the Amun Ra Empire to its knees, making it a province under Roman rule. But ambition, though blinding, could not hide the truth. The Amun Ra Empire, though no longer at its prime, was far from a dying civilization. Its culture, its traditions, its pride¡ªall burned brightly still. To challenge it in open war would be a gamble, one with devastating consequences. Victory, though probable, would come at a steep cost¡ªone the Romans knew might shatter their image of invincibility and leave them vulnerable. And vulnerability was a dangerous thing in a world where empires circled one another like hungry jackals. Other kingdoms¡ªmany of whom despised the Romans for their arrogance, for their insatiable hunger for conquest, and for their brutal imposition of order¡ªwould seize upon any weakness. Should Rome bleed, others would strike. Thus, Caesar''s journey was not merely political¡ªit was a delicate dance on the edge of a sword. An alliance, if successful, could bring stability, trade, and mutual respect. But one misstep, one sign of betrayal or weakness, could ignite a war the world was not ready to survive. And so, the people of Alexandria waited, watching with bated breath as the mighty Roman banners fluttered in the distance, drawing ever closer to the gates of the city. At last, the afternoon sun cast its golden veil across the horizon, bathing the shores of Alexandria in warm, shimmering light. The soft roar of waves breaking against the coast formed a natural rhythm, serene yet charged with anticipation. It was then, like an omen carried by the sea, that the fleet appeared. From the distant line where the sky met the water, a grand procession of ships emerged¡ªan awe-inspiring armada bearing the crimson and gold standard of the Roman Empire. Dozens of colossal warships cut through the waters with the grace of predators. Each vessel was a marvel of Roman craftsmanship, their hulls carved with intricate symbols of victory, and their sails billowing like the wings of mythical beasts. The very sight of them struck the heart with a mixture of awe and dread. As the fleet drew closer, the details became clearer¡ªrows of armored soldiers stood on deck, still and silent, awaiting the moment of disembarkation. The entire stretch of this particular harbor, a secluded and strategically cleared portion of Alexandria''s coastline, had been sealed off days in advance. No civilians were permitted near. No merchant vessels cluttered the docks. This was not just a welcome¡ªit was a declaration. The Roman Empire had arrived, and they would not share their spotlight. The first of the ships touched the shore with a hollow thud. Almost immediately, the air was filled with the thunderous clamor of movement. Roman soldiers, clad in gleaming steel, poured down the ramps with mechanical precision. Boots struck stone in perfect rhythm, the sound of thousands of footsteps accompanied by the metallic symphony of clinking armor and weapons. They moved swiftly, yet with the calm of seasoned warriors, each man taking his position with practiced ease. Within minutes, a full military formation had taken shape¡ªrows upon rows of disciplined legionaries standing tall and proud. Their numbers surged with each passing second, easily exceeding five thousand, and still more poured in from the ships behind. A tide of power and preparation, marching beneath the imperial banner. Then, without a word, the formation parted. A path opened like a sacred corridor down the center of the army, and through this path, a single figure began his descent from the largest and most ornate vessel among the fleet. This ship, adorned in gold trimmings and bearing the Imperial Eagle at its highest mast, could belong to none other than the man himself. Julius Caesar. He stepped down slowly, every movement deliberate. The golden armor he wore shone like fire under the Alexandrian sun, its polished surface engraved with the emblem of the Roman Empire¡ªa roaring eagle grasping lightning in its talons. A red cloak fluttered behind him in the sea breeze, completing the image of martial nobility. He was striking¡ªblessed with sharp, classical features, a clean jawline, and eyes like the sky before a storm. His golden-blond hair shimmered in the light, neatly combed, yet slightly tousled by the wind. Though appearing no older than his late twenties, he exuded the gravitas of a man far beyond his years. It was this youth, paired with the mythic tales of his many victories, that gave him an almost otherworldly presence. Julius Caesar was not merely a general. He was a living symbol¡ªthe incarnation of Rome''s ambition, strength, and will to dominate. As he mounted the dark stallion brought before him, the soldiers saluted in perfect unison, a sea of raised arms and polished shields reflecting his image. With Caesar at the head, the grand procession began. Like a blade slicing through silk, the Roman forces moved through the city''s paved roads with stoic precision, horses trotting in rhythm, banners flapping in the breeze, and the people of Alexandria pressing in from both sides to witness the spectacle. Ten minutes later, the army reached the heart of the city. A path had been prepared for them¡ªlined with silken banners, fragrant petals, and gilded arches. The citizens had gathered in the thousands, forming a corridor of awe-struck onlookers. Murmurs rose as the people leaned forward, eyes fixed not on the legions, but on the man who led them. And when they saw him¡ªwhen they finally laid eyes on the Emperor of Rome himself¡ªthey understood. He was more than a man. He was a presence, a storm wrapped in gold and flesh. There was an intangible weight to him, a commanding aura that silenced even the most cynical whispers. His back was straight, his gaze forward, unshaken and sure. Chapter 367: Caesar and his Two Lions The scorching sun hung high above the Egyptian horizon as the dust from hundreds of marching feet began to settle. At last, the mighty army halted before the towering gates of the Pharaoh''s grand palace¡ªa structure as ancient as the sands themselves and as imposing as the gods it was built to honor. The golden insignias of the Amun Ra Empire shimmered faintly on the stone walls, catching the light of the desert sun. Without delay, the heavy gates creaked open with a reverent groan, as if they recognized the presence of someone greater approaching. Julius Caesar, Emperor of Rome, descended from his steed with a graceful but commanding motion. His crimson cape fluttered lightly in the wind behind him, a symbol of Rome''s unmatched power. He was followed closely by a select group of his trusted men, while the rest of his formidable legion began to set up camp just outside the city walls. There was no need for them to enter yet¡ªthis display of military discipline and control had served its purpose. It was not war they brought to Alexandria, not yet, but a demonstration: a silent reminder to the Amun Ra Empire of who held the upper hand, and who they now depended upon. As Caesar and his men approached the palace''s entrance, a figure emerged from the shadows beneath the high archways. The man wore a flowing robe embroidered with intricate patterns of gold and lapis lazuli. His smile was poised, his demeanor courteous¡ªperhaps overly so. "It is an honor to receive you, Emperor Julius Caesar," the man spoke with a smooth, practiced tone. "I am Pothinus, humble servant and advisor to Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII." Caesar''s eyes flicked to the man''s face, his expression unreadable. A single, scrutinizing glance was all it took for him to assess the truth hidden behind that polished smile. Julius Caesar, a master of politics and warfare, could recognize deception as easily as he could the formation of a battle line. There was something off about this man¡ªa slithering presence masked behind silken words. And his instincts were not wrong. Pothinus was far from a loyal advisor. He was, in truth, the venomous mind behind the bloody feud tearing apart the royal family of Egypt. It was he who had whispered poison into young Ptolemy''s ears, turning brother against sister, igniting the fire of civil war in pursuit of his own ambitions. He did not serve the Pharaoh; he controlled him. Every decree, every decision, every betrayal¡ªPothinus''s hands were on all of it. Worse still, it was Pothinus who had ordered the assassination of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus¡ªPompey the Great¡ªonce Caesar''s ally and later his rival. He had instructed Septimius, a former centurion under Pompey turned mercenary, to carry out the act and deliver Pompey''s severed head as a grotesque gift to the Emperor of Rome. A gift of loyalty... or so Pothinus had hoped. But as of this moment, Pothinus had received no word from Septimius. There was only silence. That in itself was troubling. Had the assassination failed? Had Septimius died in the attempt? Either outcome disappointed Pothinus. He had expected more from a man who once stood beside Pompey. But perhaps even loyalty forged in war had its limits. As Caesar''s party stood at the palace threshold, one of his companions stepped forward, his expression sharp and unmistakably annoyed. "Where is the Pharaoh?" he demanded coldly, his voice cutting through the heavy air. "Does he not deem it necessary to greet the Emperor of Rome in person?" The man who spoke was tall and broad-shouldered, with short brown hair and a gaze as piercing as an eagle''s. His presence radiated power¡ªan aura not unlike Caesar''s own. Before Pothinus could answer, Caesar raised a hand and turned toward his companion with a calm smile. "It''s fine, Octavius," he said softly, his voice soothing but firm. The tension dissipated instantly. The younger man, Gaius Octavius¡ªknown as Augustus to those close to him¡ªnodded, though his eyes remained wary. Still young, yet already wise beyond his years, Augustus was being groomed by Caesar himself. There was greatness in him, waiting to awaken. Beside them, another man let out a quiet chuckle at the scene. He, too, was of impressive stature, with striking blond hair that caught the light like polished gold. His strong jaw and confident stance gave him the air of a seasoned warrior. His name was Marcus Antonius, one of Caesar''s most loyal lieutenants and a man known for both his martial prowess and his charisma. Pothinus, ever the cunning manipulator, was no fool. As a man whose ultimate ambition was to control the vast and ancient Amun Ra Empire from behind the veil of the throne, he made it his duty to remain well-informed. Knowledge was his weapon, and today, he stood before three men who represented not just the might of Rome, but the very will of destiny itself. Of course, he had heard of them¡ªCaesar''s two lions. Gaius Octavius, the young prodigy, sharp as a blade honed in silence, with a strategic mind that belied his age. And Marcus Antonius, the golden-haired warrior whose prowess on the battlefield was rivaled only by his charisma and unwavering loyalty. To command the respect and allegiance of both men was a testament to Caesar''s greatness. They didn''t follow him out of duty, nor for wealth or prestige¡ªthey followed him out of something far rarer: admiration. True loyalty. The kind that would not bend, not break, even in the face of death. Pothinus understood that well. Loyalty like that made Caesar dangerous¡ªuntouchable. In Rome, power often shifted with whispers and blades in the dark, but Caesar''s grip was iron, and it was not his alone. It was forged from the trust of powerful men. "My apologies," Pothinus said, lowering his head in a practiced gesture of humility. "His Majesty, the Pharaoh, has grown cautious after numerous attempts on his life. Please, this way¡ªhe awaits you in the main hall." Without waiting for a response, he turned and led them into the palace. The interior of the royal residence was a marvel in itself. The walls were adorned with intricate hieroglyphs etched in gold leaf, depicting gods, kings, and the eternal cycle of life and death. Towering columns, carved with images of falcons and lotus flowers, reached up toward a ceiling painted with celestial stars. The air was scented with myrrh and incense, and the polished floors reflected the flickering flames of tall bronze braziers. Octavius and Marcus Antonius found themselves quietly impressed. Though neither would say it aloud, the grandeur of Egyptian artistry stirred even their Roman pride. "It''s another world entirely," Marcus murmured, eyes trailing over a statue of Anubis carved from obsidian. "These people live among gods." Octavius scoffed slightly, but he didn''t disagree. After a moment, Marcus leaned closer to his younger companion. "So, what do you think?" he asked, his voice low and casual. "Will these negotiations go smoothly?" Octavius folded his arms and gave a smirk, his tone sharp with confidence. "It doesn''t matter how they go. That child on the throne doesn''t stand a chance against Caesar. Honestly, he should hand over the empire and let us govern it properly." He spoke with arrogance, but every word was meant. Octavius had little patience¡ªor respect¡ªfor a Pharaoh who, at barely fifteen years old, was expected to rule a kingdom steeped in centuries of divine tradition. In his eyes, it was laughable. Eventually, they reached the grand doors of the main hall. Two tall guards pulled them open, revealing a room as resplendent as a temple. Pillars wrapped in gold spiraled upward like vines reaching toward heaven, and a vast throne of lapis lazuli and obsidian stood elevated upon a dais. There, seated with all the regal adornment of his station, was Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII. Draped in blue and gold, his young frame seemed swallowed by the throne he sat on. The golden crook and flail rested across his lap, his headdress ornate and heavy on his small head. He rose as they entered, his attempt at composure visible¡ªbut faltering. "I greet you, Emperor Julius Caesar," Ptolemy said, voice steady, though a tremor of uncertainty betrayed him. He was clearly trying to appear strong, authoritative, but there was a boy beneath the mask of kingship, and everyone in the room saw it. Marcus Antonius raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. "He looks even more like a kid than I imagined," he whispered with a low chuckle, not bothering to hide his amusement. Octavius smirked at Marcus''s remark, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. Ptolemy''s face turned rigid, his youthful features twisted with indignation. The laughter, the mockery¡ªit stung more than he was prepared for. His eyes darted toward Marcus Antonius, fury building behind them. For a moment, the tension thickened, and it looked as if the young Pharaoh might command his guards to act. But he hesitated. Even in his anger, some part of him remembered the tales. The stories of what these men were capable of. Of how swift and merciless Rome could be. And above all, the quiet, looming figure of Caesar, who stood without a word, observing everything. In that silence, Ptolemy held his tongue. Though Caesar maintained his usual calm and regal composure, inwardly he was already assessing the situation with practiced precision. The moment he laid eyes on the boy-king seated before him, he knew this meeting would prove far easier than he had initially expected. There would be no need for threats¡ªnot yet. No need for blood. Not when the throne was held by trembling hands and eyes that barely hid their fear. This wasn''t a ruler; it was a puppet in gold. Still, Caesar was a master of diplomacy when it served his interests. His lips curled into a polite, warm smile¡ªa mask he had worn many times in the Senate chambers of Rome and before kings who fancied themselves gods. "It is an honor," Caesar said with an elegant bow of his head, "to stand before the living Pharaoh of Egypt." His words carried the weight of formality, but the glint in his eyes was calculating. Every move, every syllable¡ªcrafted with precision. This was Caesar''s battlefield now, and he intended to win it with wit before steel. And then¡ª The great chamber doors slammed open. The sound echoed like thunder across the vast hall, reverberating off the golden columns and marble floor. Startled, several guards instinctively reached for their weapons, and tension surged in the air like the first crack of a coming storm. A group of men entered, moving swiftly through the grand doorway. At the front of them strode a tall, lean figure with a confident stride and a roguish grin spread across his face. His dark eyes scanned the room like he owned it. Apollodorus. Marcus Antonius was already moving, his blade drawn halfway from its sheath in a heartbeat. Octavius, too, reacted instantly, steel flashing as he stepped protectively near Caesar''s side. The Roman warriors moved not as men, but as wolves ready to strike. And yet¡ª Apollodorus merely smiled. Not a forced smile, nor one tinged with fear. But rather a knowing, amused expression, as though he were the bearer of a divine jest. Slung casually over one of his broad shoulders was a large, tightly rolled carpet¡ªrich crimson in color, adorned with golden embroidery that shimmered like sunlight on the Nile. It was far too heavy and ornate to be merely a gift, and the way Apollodorus handled it¡ªwith care, almost reverence¡ªsuggested something far more curious was concealed within. Chapter 368: Cleopatra Slung casually over one of his broad shoulders was a large, tightly rolled carpet¡ªrich crimson in color, adorned with golden embroidery that shimmered like sunlight on the Nile. It was far too heavy and ornate to be merely a gift, and the way Apollodorus handled it¡ªwith care, almost reverence¡ªsuggested something far more curious was concealed within. "Stand down," Caesar said calmly, raising a hand. His tone was serene, but there was a spark of intrigue in his eyes. He had seen this man before, years ago, in passing. A trusted ally of Cleopatra, if memory served. A bold one. Marcus and Octavius slowly lowered their weapons, but their eyes remained locked on Apollodorus. Pothinus frowned, clearly not expecting this entrance. His lips pursed, though he said nothing. His control over the court, already shaken, now teetered further. Apollodorus finally stopped a few paces from the throne''s base. He let the carpet slide down from his shoulder with a controlled thud, setting it gently upon the floor. "Forgive the interruption," he said with a mischievous bow. "But I bring a most... precious gift. One that deserves to be unwrapped with care." And with that, he knelt and began to unravel the carpet, carefully pulling at the fabric''s edge. All eyes in the hall watched, breath held, hearts still. As the crimson and gold-embroidered carpet finished unfurling across the polished stone floor, silence fell over the gathering. All eyes turned, and from its folds stepped a woman so radiant, so arresting in her presence, that time itself seemed to slow in reverence. She was a vision of regal beauty, a living embodiment of divinity. Her hair, the deepest shade of midnight black, was styled in elegant, intricate locks that fell gracefully to the nape of her neck. Each strand shimmered under the golden light, a crown of darkness framing a face that could inspire legends. Her eyes were mesmerizing¡ªbrilliant and piercing, the color of molten amber at dusk, like the last rays of a dying sun. They held wisdom, danger, and allure all in one gaze. She wore a traditional dress of the Amun Ra Empire, but there was nothing ordinary about it. The flowing white fabric hugged her hourglass figure with a softness that contrasted the undeniable authority she carried. Gold embroidery danced across the hem and bodice, catching the light with each step she took. Her arms were adorned with golden bangles and divine bracelets, glinting with encrusted jewels. Heavy earrings swayed like pendulums beside her graceful neck, and an ornate golden circlet adorned her forehead, encrusted with lapis lazuli and garnet. Even her hair was crowned with chains of fine gold, linking her presence with the image of a goddess made flesh. Her skin was the soft tone of sun-kissed bronze, and beneath her eyes were jet-black tattoos¡ªsymbols of royalty and power that only heightened the intensity of her stare. Her full lips curled into a smile so subtle, so enchantingly suggestive, that even the most battle-hardened men in Caesar''s company found themselves momentarily enthralled. She was not merely beautiful. She was art. She was seduction. She was power incarnate. And she was Cleopatra VII Thea Philopator, the true Pharaoh of the Amun Ra Empire, and its last, most enigmatic queen. The moment her brother Ptolemy laid eyes on her, his composed expression shattered like glass struck by stone. He recoiled as though he had seen a ghost, his lips stumbling over his own breath. "W...What are you doing here?!" he gasped, voice thin and trembling. There was an unmistakable tremor in his eyes, a flicker of something raw and primal¡ªfear. He feared her not for her beauty, but for her brilliance. Cleopatra had always been more than a sister to him; she had been a force of nature, and he had never stopped fearing the storm she could summon. But Cleopatra paid him no mind. Her eyes, sharp as obsidian and warm as fire, remained fixed on the Roman general before her¡ªGaius Julius Caesar. "So the rumors were true," she said with a voice like velvet dipped in honey. "You are a man worth speaking of. I can tell with just a single look." Her words carried no pretense, no artifice. They were direct and confident, and yet her tone was so sweet it almost disguised the power behind them. Caesar smiled in return, the corners of his lips curling with intrigue. "And I can say the same of you," he replied smoothly. "You possess every right to be worshipped." "I don''t merely claim divinity," Cleopatra said, her voice soft yet resolute, her smile deepening with amused pride. "I am a goddess. The Incarnation of Isis herself." "Isis... interesting," Caesar murmured as he strode toward a nearby table adorned with polished silver trays of grapes, figs, and sweet dates, accompanied by a tall amphora of rich, dark wine. He moved with the calm grace of a man used to command, pouring the aged liquid into two crystal goblets, the fragrant aroma drifting into the air like a perfumed whisper. Without hesitation, he turned and approached Cleopatra, offering one of the goblets with a disarming smile that hinted at both charm and calculation. "She is the goddess of your empire, is she not?" he asked, his voice low, smooth like flowing silk. Cleopatra accepted the glass, her fingers grazing his with elegant poise. Her golden bangles jingled softly as she raised the cup, her amber eyes never leaving his. "I consider Isis the protector of my empire," she said, her lips curving into a smile that held both warmth and challenge. "Not just a goddess. My goddess." Before the moment could linger longer, a shrill voice pierced through the calm. "W¨CWhat are you doing, Emperor?!" Ptolemy''s indignant cry echoed across the chamber. His face had turned red with fury, veins bulging along his neck like cords pulled too tight. He had been ignored¡ªby his sister, and by the very man he had hoped to impress. Caesar, now entirely captivated by Cleopatra''s presence, barely acknowledged the boy-king''s growing tantrum. "Why are you so angry, Pharaoh?" Caesar asked with a hint of weariness in his tone, not even turning to face the younger ruler. "Does diplomacy offend you?" "I am the one who invited you here!" Ptolemy snapped, his voice high-pitched and cracking with emotion. "She''s a criminal! She conspired against our people¡ªand you stand here speaking to her as if she were royalty?!" His outburst had the desperation of a child throwing a tantrum when his toys are taken away. Cleopatra remained unmoved, sipping delicately from her wine as though none of it concerned her. Caesar finally turned, his expression calm yet firm. "There''s no need to shout. I was sent by the Roman Senate to forge an alliance with the Amun Ra Empire. That duty demands I speak to all potential heirs of the throne, whether you approve or not." "You insolent¡ª!" Ptolemy''s face twisted in rage. "I am the Pharaoh! I rule this land! You should speak only to me!" He spun toward the palace guards. "Guards! Kill her¡ªnow!" Gasps filled the hall as soldiers stepped forward, weapons gleaming in the torchlight. But in the same breath, two Roman blades were drawn with a hiss¡ªMarcus Antonius and young Octavius stepped in front of Caesar, weapons pointed with deadly intent toward the advancing guards. Behind Cleopatra, Apollodorus and her loyal companions formed a protective half-circle, each one tense, ready for violence. The atmosphere turned ice-cold. Caesar''s smile faded, replaced by a gaze that could freeze the sun. He said nothing at first, only stared at Ptolemy with the weight of Rome behind his eyes. Cleopatra let out a quiet, almost sorrowful sigh. "How tedious," she murmured. "I came here not with blood in mind, but with hope. Hope for a future where our two great empires might prosper together. Did you not come for that same purpose, Emperor?" Her voice was calm, yet heavy with meaning. Caesar''s eyes softened only slightly as he glanced at her, the edge of his mouth lifting again. "Indeed," he replied. "I have no interest in spilling blood over childish whims." He turned pointedly back to Ptolemy. "Do you understand?" It was a jab¡ªa clean, deliberate cut that struck at the boy''s pride. Ptolemy''s lips trembled. Rage boiled in his chest as he stormed toward Caesar, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. "If you continue to speak with her, I will order the death of every Roman stationed in the Amun Ra Empire," he spat. "I''ll start with Alexandria." A deadly silence followed. Caesar tilted his head slightly, the corners of his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. He took a step forward, towering over the smaller ruler. "Are you threatening me?" Caesar asked, his voice a low growl beneath the smile. "I suggest you think very carefully about your next words." Ptolemy tried to meet his gaze, but his bravado crumbled beneath the weight of Caesar''s presence. The Roman general didn''t need to raise his voice to project authority. His aura alone bent the room to his will. Wordless and seething, Ptolemy turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall, his footsteps echoing through the marble corridor like the retreat of a defeated child. Chapter 369: Nathan bursts in! 369 Nathan bursts in! "Are you threatening me?" Caesar asked, his voice a low growl beneath the smile. "I suggest you think very carefully about your next words." Ptolemy tried to meet his gaze, but his bravado crumbled beneath the weight of Caesar''s presence. The Roman general didn''t need to raise his voice to project authority. His aura alone bent the room to his will. Wordless and seething, Ptolemy turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall, his footsteps echoing through the marble corridor like the retreat of a defeated child. After young Ptolemy exited the chamber with an air of manufactured confidence, his footsteps echoing across the marble floor, his regent¡ªPothinus¡ªfollowed shortly behind. But unlike the boy, Pothinus did not carry the same feigned ease. As he passed Cleopatra, he cast her a glance¡ªa sharp, scrutinizing stare cloaked beneath a veil of courtly indifference. But Cleopatra saw through it; the slight tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched at his side, the calculated pace of his stride. It betrayed the anxiety he was trying desperately to conceal. He had every reason to be nervous. It was Pothinus who had orchestrated Cleopatra''s exile, who had manipulated the young Ptolemy into turning against his sister. A decision that had momentarily secured his power¡ªyes¡ªbut had now placed him directly in the path of the lioness he had wronged. And he knew Cleopatra¡ªknew that her grace was never without calculation. She was not the type to forgive easily. If she ever reclaimed power, even the smallest measure of it, he was keenly aware that the first neck she would tighten a noose around would be his. But there was nothing he could do now¡ªnot here, not before Caesar. Speaking out would only make things worse, and staying any longer would serve no purpose. The tides were already shifting. All he could do now was hope. Hope that Cleopatra''s famed charms would falter against the Roman general. Hope that Caesar would remain unmoved, unimpressed, and ultimately uninterested. But it was already too late. Even in silence, Cleopatra had already begun to weave her web. Her beauty was striking, yes¡ªbut more dangerous was her voice, her presence, her gaze that carried both command and seduction. Pothinus saw the signs. Caesar''s eyes had lingered a little too long. The general''s smirk had been a little too intrigued. Cleopatra had begun her conquest, and this time, it was not with armies or fleets¡ªit was with words and wit and allure. Pothinus departed, his robe brushing the floor like a snake slithering away from a lioness. The doors closed with a solemn thud. Once they were alone, Cleopatra broke the silence with a tone that danced between casual and cunning. "Forgive my brother," she said smoothly, her eyes not meeting Caesar''s just yet. She took her time, her fingers caressing the rim of a gilded wine cup. "He is still a child, not only in body, but also in mind. To him, ruling an empire is no more than a game of toy soldiers. I do not hold him entirely responsible. I blame those whispering in his ear... those who care more for their own pockets than the fate of Egypt." Caesar leaned back, regarding her with amused interest. His voice carried a warm chuckle as he replied, "Indeed. Even with advisors, I find it difficult to believe a child like him could bear the burden of a realm as vast as the Amun-Ra Empire." Cleopatra smiled¡ªan elegant, poised smile that did not quite reach her calculating eyes. "An excellent observation," she said. "But the answer is self-evident: of course he cannot. His advisors are a parade of sycophants and gluttons, thinking only of their own status. They lack both vision and loyalty. None of them hold the Empire close to heart¡ªnot like I do. For I carry not just royal blood... but the blood of conquerors. Of greatness. The blood of Alexander the Great himself." At that name, Caesar''s amusement gave way to something else¡ªsomething more reverent. His gaze sharpened, eyes alight with interest. Alexander¡ªthe model of Caesar''s aspirations, the shadow he chased across every battlefield, the ghost he measured his own victories against. "Alexander..." Caesar murmured, almost to himself. "He was a man of vision. Of brilliance, and strength. I see none of those qualities in the boy Pharaoh who bears his title now." Cleopatra let out a soft scoff, her lips curling into a knowing smile. She raised her cup and took a slow, deliberate sip of wine. The crimson liquid stained her lips like blood. Then, Caesar stepped closer. Cleopatra didn''t flinch. She simply met his gaze, her chin tilted ever so slightly, her expression unreadable. "But I see fragments of that same brilliance in your eyes," Caesar said softly, almost admiringly. "You have his fire." Cleopatra leaned in just slightly, her voice a sensual whisper carried by the scent of exotic perfume and crushed berries. "Then your choice," she said, her breath brushing against his cheek, "should be as clear as day." Caesar smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting with intrigue. But before he could respond¡ª BA-DOOOOM! A deafening explosion shattered the moment. The western wall of the chamber was blown open with violent force. A thunderous shockwave shook the palace to its foundation as stone and debris erupted into the air like a volcano''s wrath. Rubble cascaded into the room, dust choking the candlelight, screams ringing out from the corridors beyond. Guards scrambled, weapons drawn. Cleopatra instinctively shielded her eyes from the blast of wind and dust, her wine cup crashing to the marble floor. And Caesar¡ªeyes narrowed, battle-honed instincts kicking in¡ªreached for his sword. Marcus Antonius and Octavius reacted instantly, their hands moving in perfect synchronicity as they reached for the hilts of their swords. The explosion had not only torn through the palace wall but had also shattered any illusion of security. The air was thick with dust and tension, every soldier in the room poised on a knife''s edge. A presence¡ªdark, oppressive, and unmistakably dangerous¡ªhad entered. As the dust began to settle, and fragments of stone clattered across the polished floor, a single figure stepped into view. He was not a towering man, but he radiated an aura that demanded attention. Power exuded from his very posture. Each measured step he took echoed like a war drum in the stunned silence. His body, clad in light armor of foreign design, moved with the ease of a seasoned warrior. The armor, though minimal, hugged the contours of a lean but clearly defined frame¡ªa body shaped by years of combat, not vanity. What drew every gaze, however, was the mask. A gleaming golden mask, styled like that of an ancient Pharaoh, obscured the entirety of his face save for his eyes¡ªcold, crimson, and merciless. They scanned the room like twin blades, sharp and unyielding, daring anyone to challenge him. In his right hand, he held a rope. Bound at the end of that rope, slumped and half-dragged across the floor, was a man. His face was hidden beneath a ragged cloth sack, but his battered posture and slow steps betrayed exhaustion, maybe even defeat. Octavius stepped forward, his voice hard as iron. "Who are you, to dare violate sacred Roman presence with such arrogance?" The stranger tilted his head slightly, unmoved by the threat in the young man''s tone. Before he could respond, another voice broke through the tension¡ªthis one tinged with surprise and alarm. "S... Septimius! It''s Lucius Septimius!" The voice belonged to Apollodorus, Cleopatra''s loyal ally, who had up until now remained respectfully silent in the background. At the sight of the masked intruder, however, he moved swiftly to place himself between Cleopatra and the unknown threat, his hand hovering protectively over the hilt of his dagger. Lucius Septimius. The name carried weight, even among hardened soldiers. "A mercenary of Ptolemy," Marcus muttered, his eyes narrowing with distaste. "One of the dogs the boy-king let off his leash." But Cleopatra''s attention wasn''t on Septimius. Her gaze was fixed on the bound man he held. A knot of instinct and intuition twisted within her. She did not need the cloth to be removed to know who it was. The way he stood¡ªeven in defeat¡ªspoke of someone once proud, once feared. Caesar''s voice was calm but firm, measured in tone, yet edged with suspicion. "What is your purpose here?" The man in the mask¡ªNathan¡ªmet Caesar''s eyes briefly before pulling the rope forward with a sharp tug. The prisoner stumbled and fell to his knees before him. With a flourish, Nathan removed the sack covering his face. A gasp swept through the chamber. "Pompey..." Caesar''s voice cracked for the briefest of moments, his composure faltering as he beheld the once-mighty general. The room shifted with collective disbelief. Marcus''s jaw clenched. Octavius''s eyes widened. Even Cleopatra drew in a sharp breath. Lucius Septimius¡ªno, Nathan¡ªremained still, his blade now drawn and gleaming in the torchlight. He pressed it casually but deliberately against Pompey''s neck. A thin red line appeared, a warning stroke, not yet a wound. "Ptolemy ordered me to bring you his head," Nathan said, his tone utterly calm, almost conversational. "He thought it would make a fitting gift for you, Emperor. He paid handsomely for it." Nathan''s voice was muffled slightly beneath the mask, but every syllable dripped with dark amusement. "Shall I deliver his head to you now?" His question hung in the air like the edge of a guillotine. Caesar stared at him, then at Pompey¡ªbloodied, bruised, but alive. A man who once ruled the Senate, now reduced to a captive. Rage and pity warred behind Caesar''s eyes. Not for what Pompey had done¡ªhis betrayal still festered like a wound¡ªbut for how low he had been brought. Not by Romans, but by foreigners. By children playing at kings. "No," Caesar said at last, the word cutting through the tension like a blade. "That was a foolish command from the Pharaoh. Pompey may have turned his back on Rome, but he is still a son of the Republic. A Hero of the Roman Empire." His voice grew firmer. "The right to judge him belongs to Rome alone. No one else." It wasn''t merely sentiment¡ªit was a matter of pride, of image. To accept Pompey''s death at the hands of an Egyptian mercenary would be to cheapen everything Rome stood for. Justice must be Roman. Execution must be Roman. If Caesar was to rise to power, he would not do it on a foreigner''s sword. Nathan shrugged slightly, his blade still resting against Pompey''s neck. "I don''t mind. But if I disobey Pharaoh''s orders, I don''t get paid. And I do like getting paid." A single bead of blood trickled down Pompey''s neck. Caesar gave a dry laugh, his expression shifting to something more calculated. "Money, is it? Then let us talk business." He stepped forward, his voice laced with confidence. "I can pay you far more than the Pharaoh. Triple, perhaps. Name your price." Beneath the golden mask, Nathan''s lips curled into a hidden smirk. This¡ªthis was precisely the outcome he had hoped for. And it was only just beginning. Chapter 370: Negotiations with Julius Caesar "I can pay you far more than the Pharaoh. Triple, perhaps. Name your price." Beneath the golden mask, Nathan''s lips curled into a hidden smirk. This¡ªthis was precisely the outcome he had hoped for. And it was only just beginning. "I demand a high price," Nathan said, his voice low and unwavering, like a blade pressing against a throat. "But what use is gold to a man laid out in a grave?" Caesar''s brows drew together in a frown. "What are you implying, mercenary?" Nathan''s eyes, sharp and dark like storm-tossed waves, locked with Caesar''s. There was no fear in them¡ªonly cold certainty. "If I accept your offer... if I let Pompey live and turn my back on what I was ordered to do, the Pharaoh will see it for what it is¡ªtreachery. Mercy shown to his enemy is betrayal in his eyes. I would become a marked man. The sands of the Amun Ra Empire would offer me no sanctuary. I''d be hunted, relentlessly. Assassins in the night. Poisoned wine. A dagger in the ribs. Not only by Ptolemy''s men, but by mercenaries like myself¡ªhunters paid better than I ever was, sent to erase the shame of my betrayal." A tense silence followed his words. Caesar, Marcus Antonius, and even Octavius felt the weight of the possibility settle around them like dust from a crumbling pillar. None of them could deny it. In the ruthless world of empires and shifting loyalties, Nathan''s warning was all too real. "Then what do you want?" Octavius snapped, his voice laced with irritation, his pride stung. He clearly took offense that a man of Nathan''s low station dared speak with such authority in the presence of emperors and generals. Nathan met his glare without blinking. "I could ask you the same." Before Octavius could react, Nathan took a slow step forward, the shadows of the torchlight playing against the hardened lines of his face. "If I take Pompey''s head now," he said, his tone calm and measured, "and present it to Ptolemy, I would be paid handsomely. My reputation would remain intact. The Pharaoh would be pleased. I would return home a hero, not a fugitive." He turned his gaze on Caesar now, locking eyes with the great general. "Simple. Clean. Efficient. Far less complicated than living the rest of my days on the run. Don''t you agree?" Octavius''s temper flared. "You insolent cur! You''re a mere sellsword! How dare you speak so directly to Caesar?" He lunged forward, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword, but Caesar raised a hand, silencing him with a single gesture. To everyone''s surprise, Caesar chuckled. His eyes glinted with something between amusement and curiosity. "Bold," he murmured, "and logical. I like that." He took a step toward Nathan, clasping his hands behind his back, the folds of his imperial robes rustling faintly. "Then allow me to present an alternative¡ªone that spares you the Pharaoh''s wrath and rewards your boldness." Octavius and Marcus Antonius exchanged bewildered glances, but Caesar paid them no mind. "Leave the Amun Ra Empire behind," Caesar said. "Serve under my banner instead. I will grant you protection, purpose, and far more than coin. You''ll be part of history." "Emperor?!" Octavius gasped, the word falling from his lips as if it had burned his tongue. Even Marcus Antonius seemed taken aback, eyes wide in disbelief. "This is my will," Caesar said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of command that could move legions. Octavius, flustered and red-faced, tried again. "But... my Emperor! He''s a mercenary! A sword for hire with no honor, no loyalty! He''ll turn on us the moment someone offers him more!" "And what loyalty should I have to men who call me scum?" Nathan''s tone was icy, though he made no move, no threat. "You mistake hired skill for a lack of conviction." From his knees, bound and bruised, Pompey scoffed. "He is a traitor. He served me once, then sold his blade to the Pharaoh. Now he''ll sell it again to you. You feed a viper, Caesar." Nathan''s eyes flicked to Pompey, but there was no anger, no bitterness¡ªonly that same unnerving calm. He didn''t respond. He didn''t need to. Instead of replying with another sharp remark, Nathan fell into silence. He stood with arms folded, his expression unreadable, waiting¡ªnot with desperation, but with a predator''s patience¡ªfor Caesar''s answer. He had studied the man. Julius Caesar was not someone easily swayed by pride or wounded by insults. Nathan knew the general-turned-emperor had not conquered Gaul and outmaneuvered Rome''s senate by being timid or vain. No, Caesar was not shallow... and certainly not afraid of hiring a dangerous man. And Nathan was right. Caesar''s lips curled into a knowing smile, the gleam in his eyes not one of amusement, but strategy. "No," he said smoothly, his voice echoing like silk over steel. "He does have loyalty¡ªbut toward money." He turned to face Octavius and Marcus Antonius, his confidence unshaken. "And I trust men loyal to gold more than I trust men who wrap themselves in the illusion of honor. Because gold," Caesar continued, walking slowly toward Nathan, "does not lie. It does not change its face. If you offer enough of it¡ªmore than anyone else can afford¡ªyou have secured their loyalty as firmly as a collar on a hound. Simpler. Cleaner. Predictable." The sound of his footsteps echoed softly through the stone hall as he closed the distance between them. "I can only agree," said another voice¡ªsoft, sultry, but tinged with curiosity. Cleopatra had stepped forward now, her graceful movements fluid like water flowing around obstacles. The sheer elegance of her robes shimmered in the torchlight, and her deep green eyes scanned Nathan with deliberate interest, like a queen sizing up a piece of art¡ªor a weapon. "He''s quite interesting," she said, her gaze lingering longer than expected. "I thought my brother had no eye for true talent, but this one... he stands clearly above the rest. He kidnapped Pompey from the center of his army and brought him here without a scratch. That''s no ordinary feat." Nathan gave a small shrug, barely acknowledging the compliment. "His army wasn''t that impressive." His words hung in the air with calm indifference, as if he were commenting on the weather. Pompey, still on his knees with his hands bound and his pride shattered, turned his gaze toward Nathan with icy disdain. But he said nothing. Because he couldn''t deny the truth¡ªhe had been taken, alone and humiliated, and Nathan had made it look effortless. Cleopatra''s lips parted ever so slightly as her curiosity deepened. Until now, she had observed in silence, her eyes flicking back and forth like a cat watching the tension between predator and prey. But now, as Nathan spoke so casually of toppling a general''s forces, she felt something stir¡ªsomething beyond intrigue. This man wasn''t just bold. He was dangerous... and dangerously competent. "So," Caesar said, his voice regaining its commanding tone. "What do you say, Septimius?" He took another step closer, this time extending his hand with the weight of an empire behind it. "Join my side. Come with me to Rome. I''ll pay you a sum the Pharaoh himself could never match." Come with me to Rome. Those words struck a chord in Nathan''s mind like the clang of a temple bell. Exactly what he had been looking for. For weeks now, he had puzzled over how to gain access to the Roman capital¡ªhow to move freely among its elite, gather intelligence, and seek the ones he had come for. Slipping into Rome like a ghost and reaching the Empire''s inner circle should have been a near-impossible task. And yet here it was¡ªoffered to him by Julius Caesar himself. Not just access, but favor. Influence. Proximity to the very heart of Roman power. Ameriah and Auria. First, he would find them. They were the key. Then... the truth. The truth about the Hero of the Second Summoning. Nathan lifted his head, his white hair catching the flickering firelight like a phantom''s crown. His gaze met Caesar''s without fear or hesitation. "I accept," he said simply, nodding once. Chapter 371: Speaking with Cleopatra "I accept." Nathan''s voice rang out clear and unwavering, cutting through the heavy silence that had settled over the chamber like a suffocating shroud. At his words, Julius Caesar''s lips curved into a pleased, almost regal smile¡ªone of triumph, of inevitability. It was not the grin of a man who had won a game, but the smirk of a conqueror who had known the outcome from the beginning. Yet not all shared in Caesar''s satisfaction. Standing behind him, Marcus Antoinus and Octavius exchanged cold glances, their expressions a mixture of distaste and restrained fury. The decision clearly didn''t sit well with them, their pride bruised by the unexpected twist. To see Nathan, an outsider, take control of the situation and offer terms that Caesar accepted¡ªit was a blow to their egos neither of them could fully mask. Nathan gave a curt nod, his white hair shimmering in the torchlight, before releasing his grip on the fallen general. He shoved Pompey forward, forcing him to stumble toward Caesar like a piece being pushed into checkmate on a war-torn board. Caesar stepped forward, his cloak billowing with his movement, and came to stand directly above his former rival. He gazed down at Pompey, not with gloating, but with something far more dangerous¡ªnostalgia. "We could have accomplished great things together, Pompey," Caesar said softly, his tone laced with genuine regret, yet undercut by disappointment. "We could have changed the world." Pompey, bruised but still proud, lifted his head and met Caesar''s eyes with contempt. "Accomplished what? You mean becoming one of your loyal dogs?" he sneered, his voice hoarse but defiant as his gaze darted toward Marcus and Octavius. "No, Julius. I''d sooner die than lick your boots like those two lapdogs." Octavius stiffened, while Marcus Antoinus clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing into slits of seething hatred. Yet neither spoke. Perhaps they feared Caesar''s disapproval, or perhaps they simply knew Pompey was beneath retaliation now. But Caesar didn''t flinch. Instead, he gave a soft chuckle, low and almost fond, as if he were remembering better days. "You''ve always been a stubborn bastard," he said. "That''s why I respected you. We were comrades once, remember? Brothers in ambition. That''s why I won''t kill you. And I won''t let those fools in Rome take your head either." He leaned down slightly, eyes gleaming. "You will rot in a prison cell, Pompey. Forgotten. Useless. Powerless. And as you wither away, you''ll watch me rise. Watch as I seize Rome and reshape the world in my image¡ªlike Alexander before me. That is your punishment." Pompey spat blood and laughed¡ªa dry, bitter sound that echoed through the hall like the rattle of bones. "Still dreaming of being Alexander, are you?" he said with a cruel smirk. "You think yourself a god among men, but you''re nothing more than a man with a sword and an oversized ego." He paused, letting the silence stretch. Then, with calm certainty, he added, "Your time will come, Caesar. You''ll meet someone who sees through your illusions. Someone who won''t kneel, won''t flatter you, won''t fear you. And when that day comes, you''ll understand¡ªyou''re not the messiah you imagine yourself to be. Just another tyrant destined to fall." For the first time, Caesar''s smile faltered. It was barely perceptible, but it was there¡ªthe tightening of his jaw, the flicker in his eyes, the stiffening of his shoulders. Pompey''s words struck home not because they were baseless, but because they came from someone who had known him intimately. A man who had fought beside him, laughed with him, dreamed with him. And because they touched upon Caesar''s greatest vulnerability¡ªhis pride. Pompey knew him too well. He had seen Caesar''s insatiable hunger for glory, his relentless ambition, his yearning to surpass all who had come before. Caesar didn''t just want to rule¡ªhe wanted to be remembered as the greatest. To carve his name into the bones of history. And for someone like him, being told he was ordinary... was a wound deeper than any blade. Still, Caesar remained composed. He straightened, the flicker of anger buried beneath layers of iron will. He turned to his men with the same composed authority as always. "Take him away," Caesar commanded coolly, not sparing another glance at the man who had once been his equal. His soldiers moved at once, a pair of them stepping forward without hesitation. They seized Pompey by the arms, dragging him away with rough efficiency. The fallen general didn''t resist. His dignity was already stripped, and he walked with a limp pride¡ªchin held high, as though to remind them he was still Pompey the Great, even if stripped of title and power. With that business concluded, Caesar turned on his heel, his crimson cloak trailing behind him like spilled wine. His sharp eyes settled on Cleopatra, who stood with the elegance and confidence of a woman who knew the power she wielded¡ªboth political and otherwise. "I will speak with the Pharaoh out of respect and formality," Caesar said, his tone lighter now. "But you should leave. We''ll meet again outside the walls of Alexandria." Cleopatra''s eyes shimmered with amusement. She offered him a coy smile, one that had entranced monarchs and shattered alliances. "As you wish, Caesar," she said, her voice velvet. "But do not make me wait too long. Patience has never been one of my virtues." Caesar chuckled, allowing himself a smile before he turned to Nathan. "As for you," he said, "stay close to Cleopatra''s party. Defend them if anything happens. I''ll join later. And don''t worry¡ªI''m a man of my word. You''ll be well compensated." Nathan nodded silently, though a flicker of irritation crossed his expression. He didn''t enjoy the idea of trailing behind Cleopatra like a glorified guard. His real objective was Rome¡ªthe heart of the Empire, the seat of power. Everything else was just a detour. But for now, he had no choice but to play the long game. Patience. With Caesar''s orders clear, Cleopatra gave a small nod and turned to leave the chamber. Her entourage followed, though not without casting venomous glances at Nathan as he fell in step behind them. Their hatred burned silently, a quiet fury that hung in the air like smoke after a fire. "Stop it already," Apollodorus said with an exasperated sigh, breaking the tension. He was ever the pragmatic one, eyes sharp and voice weary. "Stop it? He killed our comrades!" one of the younger soldiers hissed, his voice filled with pain and bitterness. "And now we''re supposed to just pretend nothing happened?" Apollodorus turned his head slowly, his expression hardening. "We''re at war. Death is part of it. He''s a mercenary, and mercenaries follow gold and orders¡ªnot loyalty or sentiment. You''d do well to remember that." The others fell silent, unable to argue. As much as they loathed Nathan, Apollodorus spoke the truth. None of them had been innocent in this war; blood stained everyone''s hands. But their silence did nothing to cool the hostility. They continued to throw cold, venomous stares in Nathan''s direction, muttering under their breath. The air around him grew thick with tension. Nathan, for his part, didn''t react. He didn''t need to. Their hatred was a breeze brushing past stone. He walked ahead of them with calm indifference, his silver-white hair swaying with each step, his mind already miles away from this place. Eventually, Cleopatra broke the silence, drifting toward his side like a shadow cloaked in perfume and royalty. "Did my brother pay you so poorly that you switched sides without hesitation?" she asked, her voice honeyed with curiosity but sharpened by intellect. Her eyes studied him, calculating. She wasn''t easily fooled. She sensed the deeper game behind Nathan''s actions. Nathan responded without looking at her. "You know your brother better than I do." A subtle shift passed through her expression¡ªinterest, perhaps even intrigue. Apollodorus, ever the loyal protector, interjected sharply. "You speak in the presence of a Queen, mercenary. Show some respect." Nathan turned his gaze on him¡ªcold, piercing, dismissive. A single phrase slipped from his lips: "Not yet Queen." The air chilled. Apollodorus stiffened, his mouth opening to reply¡ªbut no words came. There was nothing he could say to that. The truth in Nathan''s words echoed louder than any threat. Cleopatra, on the other hand, found herself even more captivated. There was an arrogance in Nathan, yes¡ªbut it wasn''t empty bravado. He radiated confidence, the kind forged in battle and sharpened by ambition. He stood close to her without trembling, without the desperate need to impress or please. Chapter 372: The Amun Ra princesses Cleopatra, on the other hand, found herself even more captivated. There was an arrogance in Nathan, yes¡ªbut it wasn''t empty bravado. He radiated confidence, the kind forged in battle and sharpened by ambition. He stood close to her without trembling, without the desperate need to impress or please. As Nathan and Cleopatra began to walk through the grand corridor, the faint echo of their footsteps reverberating off the polished marble floors, a sudden presence halted them in their tracks. From the shadows ahead, a figure emerged¡ªregal, striking, and filled with disbelief. It was Arsinoe. No longer the disheveled and weary girl who had once been captured, Arsinoe now stood tall and poised, dressed in fine robes that shimmered under the torchlight. Her hair had been combed and adorned with delicate ornaments, and though her posture was composed, her expression betrayed the turmoil within. Her eyes widened the moment they landed on Nathan¡ªbut even more so at the woman beside him. Her sister. Cleopatra. For a moment, silence ruled the space between them, thick and tense. Then, Cleopatra''s expression shifted. The polite, diplomatic smile she had worn moments ago twisted into something else entirely¡ªcolder, sharper, like a blade hidden behind silk. "My dear sister," Cleopatra said, her voice velvety yet laced with an unmistakable edge. "I''m relieved to see you''re in good health." Arsinoe''s gaze hardened instantly, her lips curling with scorn. "Relieved? Is that sarcasm I hear? You''ve got the audacity¡ªthe sheer gall¡ªto show your face here, Cleopatra?" Her voice trembled with controlled fury. She had heard rumors, whispers in hushed corners, that her sister was somewhere in the palace. But she had dismissed them. It seemed impossible¡ªunthinkable. And yet, here Cleopatra stood, in the flesh, not only unafraid but parading through the halls like she owned them. And what was worse¡ªno one could touch her. Not today. Under any other circumstances, Cleopatra might have been seized on sight¡ªor assassinated before she could even utter a word. But things had changed. Julius Caesar and his legions were stationed just outside the royal chambers. His presence alone had paralyzed the Egyptian court. As Arsinoe glanced around, she noticed Roman soldiers subtly watching from the corners of the corridor, their hands on their gladii, their eyes like hawks. They were under strict orders. Nothing must happen here. Cleopatra stepped forward, her golden robe swaying with grace and power, her chin lifted with noble confidence. "And why shouldn''t I walk freely through this palace?" she asked, her voice colder now, carrying the weight of something long buried but never forgotten. "I am the rightful heir to this place¡ªto Alexandria, to this empire. And you know that, sister. You were there when our father, on his deathbed, spoke his final wish. You heard it just as clearly as I did." The words hung in the air like a blade suspended over Arsinoe''s head. And Cleopatra wasn''t finished. "He dreamed of me ruling as Queen and Pharaoh. He believed I could lead the Amun-Ra Empire into a golden age. And he entrusted that vision to me." Her stare was unwavering¡ªicy and accusatory. Nathan remained silent at her side, observing the clash of two women born of the same blood, yet worlds apart. Arsinoe''s lips trembled as she bit down, suppressing the flood of emotions within. Guilt. Anger. Grief. She had heard it. That day remained etched in her memory like a burn that would never heal. Their father''s voice, feeble but resolute, naming Cleopatra as his chosen heir. And Arsinoe¡ªback then¡ªhad believed in her. She had supported her. Until everything changed. "Yes," Arsinoe finally said, her voice lower, more pained. "I was your first supporter... until you began slaughtering everyone who dared to disagree with you. Until you started ruling through fear. Threats. Bloodshed." She raised her eyes to meet Cleopatra''s, her voice growing stronger with each word. "You turned our father''s dream into a nightmare, sister. You''ve become a tyrant without remorse." At that, Cleopatra let out a small laugh¡ªa scoff, bitter and sharp. "Remorse?" she echoed, her eyes flashing with something unreadable. "Tell me, dear Arsinoe¡ªwhat remorse is there to feel... when weakness is the true enemy?" "What weakness are you speaking of?" Arsinoe''s voice rang out, rising with raw emotion. "You slaughtered everyone who opposed you!" Cleopatra halted in her stride, turning slowly to face her sister. Her expression, once regal and composed, now twisted with unveiled contempt. "And why shouldn''t I have?" she said coldly. "Because they dared steal what was mine? These greedy, self-serving men cared for nothing but gold and titles. They don''t see an empire¡ªthey see a treasury. Do you truly believe they crowned that imbecilic brother of ours because he was more capable than me? More just? No, Arsinoe, they chose him because he was nai?ve. Easily manipulated. A boy with a crown, and strings attached to every limb." Her voice grew colder with every syllable, like frost spreading across a once calm lake. Her gaze pierced through Arsinoe, daring her to deny what they both knew to be true. "You were there, weren''t you? At his side. You must have seen it. How easily he bent to Pothinus''s words. How willing he was to be a puppet on their stage." Arsinoe opened her mouth, but no words came. Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to deny it, to defend their younger brother¡ªbut how could she? He had changed. At first, he was a frightened boy, trying to live up to a throne too big for his shoulders. But slowly, Pothinus, Achillas, and their vile cabal had shaped him, twisted him. The more power he gained, the less of himself remained. His soul, what little there was left of it, had been traded for control, coin, and convenience. The decision to execute Pompey¡ªRome''s great general and their supposed guest¡ªhad not come from the Pharaoh''s wisdom. It was Pothinus''s idea. A desperate bid to please Caesar and gain favor. But all it did was invite wrath. Cleopatra took a single step closer, her voice lowering into a venomous whisper. "If he continues to rule, he will tear apart everything our father built. The Empire will rot from within, Arsinoe. He''s already crossed too many lines... and I no longer see him as a child. I see him for what he truly is: a despicable thing, drunk on power, surrounded by snakes who feed on his foolishness. He must die." Arsinoe''s eyes widened, the breath stolen from her lungs. She had expected anger. A battle of words, of legacy and pride. But this¡ªthis cold declaration of fratricide¡ªit shook her. Cleopatra''s expression softened just slightly, a ghost of sympathy passing across her face. "I hold nothing against you, Arsinoe," she said. "The only reason I had you taken was to spare your life. You may not believe that¡ªbut if you had stood in my way, I would''ve had to strike you down too. And I didn''t want that. I know you''re not a fool. You love this Empire as much as I do." There was a pause. Cleopatra''s gaze narrowed. "Make the right choice. Don''t die for the wrong side out of pride. And if you haven''t realized it yet¡ªPothinus and his allies see you as just another obstacle. When the time comes for them to consolidate power fully, you''ll be next. Don''t be so stupid as to think they won''t turn on you." Arsinoe faltered. Her hands clenched at her sides, her body trembling¡ªnot from fear, but from the weight of truth pressing down on her. Cleopatra turned away and began walking past her, her gold-trimmed robes flowing behind her like a serpent''s tail. And then she stopped. Just before the corridor turned, she looked back, her voice low but thunderous in its resolve. "No matter how much blood must be shed¡ªwill be shed¡ªfor the salvation of the Amun-Ra Empire. I will save it, even if it costs me my soul. Even if I must offer my own blood to the altar of destiny, so be it. I will not watch my Empire crumble into dust, governed by cowards and fools." Her eyes glinted in the flickering light of the torches. The queen''s fire burned within her. "What will you do, Arsinoe?" But Arsinoe gave no answer. And so Cleopatra turned her back on her sister and continued forward, Apollodorus and the others silently falling in line behind her, leaving Arsinoe except for Nathan. Nathan paused, just a few paces ahead, his back still turned to Arsinoe. "Why did you betray us?" Arsinoe''s voice called out, quiet at first¡ªbut trembling with emotion. It wasn''t a royal command. It wasn''t an accusation of a Queen-in-waiting. It was something far more vulnerable. A plea. Nathan slowly turned his head to look at her. His expression was unreadable, his white hair catching the torchlight with a soft gleam. His eyes were cold but thoughtful. "Was it for gold?" Arsinoe continued, her fists clenching tightly at her sides, nails biting into her palms. "Or is it because you really believe Cleopatra is better than my brother?" Nathan''s lips twisted into a smirk, his voice laced with derision. "What kind of idiotic question is that?" He took a step closer¡ªnot out of respect, but to make sure every word hit its mark. "Even a blind man could tell Cleopatra is the better ruler. Even you are better than that pitiful excuse for a Pharaoh." His tone sharpened, dripping with contempt. "Don''t throw away your life for that spoiled, power-hungry child. He''s a puppet wearing a crown, and the strings aren''t even hidden." There wasn''t a flicker of hesitation or regret in his voice. Just brutal honesty. Then, without waiting for a reply, Nathan turned away again, walking down the corridor as if nothing he said needed defending. Arsinoe remained frozen, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Of all the things he could have said... he had not only praised Cleopatra, but her as well. He had said she was better than her own brother. That she deserved more. She wasn''t sure why, but those words lingered¡ªstirring something unfamiliar in her chest. And before she could stop herself, the words slipped from her lips like a whisper. "Septimius... can you stay?" It wasn''t a command. It wasn''t even fully thought through. It was instinct. He had been by her side many times in the past, yes. As a warrior, a shadow in the palace halls. But right now, this moment... was different. His presence made her feel something she hadn''t felt in weeks. Safe. That realization unsettled her. Nathan paused once more, not turning around this time. "I won''t change sides," he said simply, his voice now softer. "But you still can." His words were maddeningly confident, almost arrogant¡ªbut somehow, they didn''t offend her. In fact, they made her lips twitch with an involuntary smile. So smug. So sure of himself. And yet... was he wrong? Arsinoe stared down the empty corridor, lost in thought, the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance. She didn''t say another word. But her heart had already begun to stir. Chapter 373: The Resolve of Cleopatra After the tense and revealing conversation with Arsinoe, Cleopatra and her small entourage exited the ancient stone halls of the palace. The air outside was thick with the scent of the Nile and the ever-present tension that seemed to cling to the streets of Alexandria like a veil. The sound of their sandals against the mosaic tiles echoed faintly, subdued beneath the weight of what was to come. "It will be difficult to leave Alexandria right away," Apollodorus murmured, his voice low and cautious as his eyes darted toward the narrow alleys and shadowed balconies above. "I agree," another of the Queen''s loyal guards added in a hushed tone, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword. One by one, the others nodded. They all sensed it¡ªthe invisible net slowly closing around them. Even without words, it was clear: they were being watched. Stealthy glances confirmed what their instincts had already warned them. Ptolemy''s spies were scattered throughout the streets, lurking in corners, trailing behind like wolves stalking their prey. But this surveillance wasn''t merely for observation¡ªit bore the mark of something far more ominous. They were preparing for a strike. "What should we do, Queen Cleopatra?" Apollodorus finally asked, concern etched into the lines of his face. "It appears your brother means to ensure you never leave Alexandria alive." Cleopatra turned to him without hesitation, her gaze sharp as a blade, her lips curled into a confident smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "We will not retreat. We are not fleeing from Alexandria," she declared, her voice steady and unwavering. "Caesar will return soon, and with him, his legions. When that time comes, we will reclaim Alexandria¡ªand with it, my throne." She stood tall beneath the Egyptian sun, the golden cobra diadem gleaming in her dark hair, a symbol of sovereignty and divine right. Confidence radiated from her like the light of Ra himself. Apollodorus frowned, his brow creased with worry. "It is dangerous, my Queen. We may be welcoming assassins into our midst by remaining here. Might it not be wiser to retreat to the safety of the sea¡ªat least for now?" Cleopatra merely laughed, a short, defiant sound. "Assassins?" she said, almost amused. "You are here to protect me, are you not?" "Of course, we are, but..." Apollodorus hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Should we not prioritize your safety above all else? You are the rightful Queen. Your survival is paramount. The throne lies just beyond reach¡ªwe cannot risk it all before the battle even begins." Cleopatra''s gaze hardened, and she stepped toward him, her presence commanding and resolute. "My throne will not be given. It must be taken¡ªand to take Alexandria, we need strength. We need a force that will break Ptolemy''s arrogance and the chains of foreign influence." She narrowed her eyes. "That army is Caesar''s, and he will lend it to us." Her voice deepened with conviction. "Tell me, Apollodorus, how would Caesar see me if I fled now? If the so-called legitimate Pharaoh of the Amun Ra Empire ran like a frightened girl and let a Roman fight her battles? No. If I wish to rule, I must be seen as worthy of ruling." Apollodorus fell silent. He had no words to argue against her reasoning. She was right, and he knew it. This was not just a matter of survival¡ªit was a matter of image, of perception, of destiny. Cleopatra turned away from him, her gaze fixed on the sprawling city below, with its whitewashed buildings and bustling markets¡ªAlexandria, the jewel of Egypt and her birthright. "I do not wish to be seen as a mere woman," she said softly, though every syllable echoed with power. "Nor a girl who is advised by old men or ruled by distant empires, no matter how mighty they claim to be." Her eyes glinted like obsidian as the wind caught the ends of her royal robe. "I will be the woman. The Pharaoh. The sole ruler of the Amun Ra Empire. I shall stand above none, beside none. Not even Caesar." Cleopatra was no fool¡ªfar from it. Her brilliance shone through every calculated decision, every subtle word spoken, every gesture that seemed effortless yet deliberate. She understood the weight of her actions, especially now, as she stood on the cusp of inviting the most powerful force in the known world¡ªthe Roman Empire¡ªinto Egypt''s internal conflict. By seeking Julius Caesar''s aid, she wasn''t merely asking for support. She was, in the eyes of many, offering Rome a stake in her kingdom. And she knew the price that came with that kind of assistance. The Romans would expect loyalty, obedience, perhaps even submission. They would presume Egypt owed them, and they would demand compensation¡ªpolitical or otherwise. But Cleopatra had no intention of bowing. Egypt was not some backwater province to be absorbed and forgotten; it was a jewel, a sovereign land with a legacy older than Rome itself. She would not allow it to become a mere satellite orbiting Caesar''s empire. She was determined to rule not as a puppet queen, but as a sovereign Pharaoh in her own right. It would not be easy. She was, after all, a woman in a world of men, many of whom would dismiss her strength or mock her intellect. Yet Cleopatra possessed an unshakable confidence¡ªa quiet certainty in her voice, a burning resolve in her gaze. She had already won half the battle with Caesar, after all. The way he looked at her, the attention he gave¡ªthere was promise there. But to truly conquer him, and through him, Rome''s favor, she would have to prove herself. Not just to Caesar, but to the Senators, the generals, the skeptics who saw only a young woman draped in silk and gold. She would need to demonstrate that she was nothing like her trembling, sniveling brother¡ªno, she was something far greater. She needed to become what they feared and admired in equal measure. Not a queen, but a goddess. Living, breathing, commanding. But before she could ascend, before she could demand respect, before she could reign as the Pharaoh she was meant to be¡ªshe needed her throne back. Apollodorus, ever her loyal companion, had no argument to offer. Neither did the others. Her words, sharp and poised, left little room for doubt. There was steel in her voice that brooked no dissent. They followed her willingly, swept by the certainty in her stride and the clarity of her plan. They departed Alexandria with little ceremony, opting for a discreet carriage to avoid drawing further attention. Their presence, especially Cleopatra''s regal bearing and Nathan''s strange appearance¡ªhis foreign clothes and the mysterious mask that concealed his face¡ªhad begun to attract too many curious eyes. Once beyond the city''s reach, they traveled until the marble columns and bustling markets faded behind them. Near the edge of a quiet forest, nestled between a modest town and the vast expanse of the sea, they set up camp. It was a strategic location¡ªsecluded enough to offer privacy, yet close enough to civilization for supplies and information. If trouble arose, the nearby port offered a quick escape. They raised tents¡ªtall, sturdy, and richly adorned. Cleopatra''s own tent stood at the center, grander than the rest, its silken flaps embroidered with golden thread and the sigil of her house fluttering in the breeze. A royal tent fit for a ruler awaiting her moment. Apollodorus approached her with the solemn air of a soldier. "I will begin surveying the area. Two men will accompany me. My Queen should rest while she can," he said, bowing slightly before disappearing into the surrounding trees. Cleopatra turned, ready to retreat into the sanctuary of her tent. Her stride was effortless, her posture upright, her face composed. But just as her fingers brushed aside the flap, something caught her eye¡ªa still figure beneath the trees. Nathan sat alone, propped against the thick bark of an olive tree, his masked face turned toward the horizon, gazing at something unseen. He looked almost like a statue, unmoving, unreadable, but Cleopatra had come to recognize that there was always something brewing beneath that silence. She narrowed her eyes slightly, her curiosity piqued. "You," she called out, her voice soft but commanding. Nathan stirred, slightly tilting his head. "Let''s speak," she said, not asking, but declaring. Chapter 374: Cleopatras suspicions "You," she called out, her voice soft but commanding. Nathan stirred, slightly tilting his head. "Let''s speak," she said, not asking, but declaring. Nathan''s gaze shifted toward Cleopatra as she called out to him just before he could step into the tent. If it had been up to him, he would have avoided this meeting altogether. Cleopatra was far too perceptive for his liking¡ªsharp-minded, quick-witted, and possessed an uncanny ability to pierce through deception with just a few well-placed questions. If she asked the right things and he fumbled his answers, the carefully constructed mask he wore¡ªboth literal and metaphorical¡ªwould unravel in an instant. Yet, despite his unease, Nathan had no choice but to obey. She had summoned him, and to refuse would raise more suspicion than he could afford. With a measured breath, he stepped into the tent. What greeted him was not a simple interior meant for transient soldiers or wandering diplomats. No¡ªthis was a miniature palace cloaked in canvas. Silken drapes hung from magically reinforced beams, their golden threads catching the ambient torchlight and casting warm glows across the space. The scent of jasmine and rare incense filled the air, mingling with the aroma of polished sandalwood. Despite the impermanence of their encampment, Cleopatra''s entourage had constructed a space worthy of royalty¡ªand perhaps, Nathan mused, it was a message. A symbol of dignity and defiance, should Caesar himself come to visit. And at the heart of this ornate marvel, seated like a living goddess upon a throne of carved ebony and pearl, was Cleopatra. Nathan approached, each footfall muffled by the lush rugs beneath him. He halted a respectful distance away, hands behind his back, and waited silently for her to speak. Her eyes¡ªfierce, intelligent, and unreadable¡ªswept over him from head to toe. A moment of silence lingered, heavy with expectation. "Remove your mask," she commanded at last, her tone imperious but calm, like someone used to being obeyed. Nathan hesitated. Not out of fear, but calculation. There was little point in resisting now. If Apollodorus, Cleopatra''s trusted companion, had even half the wit his loyalty implied, then he had already pieced together who Nathan truly was. After all, he had been the one to smuggle him ashore by boat. Besides, Cleopatra and her court already knew he had killed several of their companions. And yet they did nothing. Not because they couldn''t¡ªbut because they wouldn''t. He was under Caesar''s protection now, a dangerous man to cross. More than that, he might very well become an invaluable piece on the board in the looming battle against Ptolemy''s forces. Without a word, Nathan reached up and pulled off his mask. Cleopatra''s eyes widened slightly, and her lips parted¡ªjust enough to betray her surprise. He was beautiful. Strikingly so. The kind of beauty that carried an edge¡ªlike a blade honed to perfection. His slicked-back white hair framed his sharp features with a kind of effortless elegance, while his crimson eyes glowed with quiet intensity. His face was calm, unyielding, but not without intrigue¡ªlike a statue carved by a master, too flawless to be human. He looked young. No older than nineteen, perhaps twenty¡ªjust like her. And that startled her more than she expected. Cleopatra rose slowly, her silken garments whispering against the floor, golden jewelry catching the light with every movement. She studied him with renewed interest, as though reevaluating everything she thought she knew. "Lucius Septimius," she said at last, her voice low and thoughtful. "A year ago, your name meant nothing. But now... now you are whispered in the same breath as Rome''s finest. During Pompey''s ill-fated war, it was your blade that earned him his only victory¡ªby slaying the enemy general in single combat. An act of valor. Or perhaps, of calculated madness." Nathan remained still, unreadable. He knew nothing of this tale she recounted. Another life. Another legend, perhaps tied to the identity he had assumed. To speak would be to risk exposing a crack in the fac?ade. So he said nothing¡ªonly listened, letting her draw her own conclusions. "Pompey gave you a name," Cleopatra said, her voice a low murmur as she stepped down from the dais, every movement controlled, precise, like a panther circling its prey. "Yet you chose to stand beside my idiotic brother instead. Was Pompey''s coin not enough for you? Is that why you betrayed him? Were you... disappointed?" She stopped just a few paces away from Nathan, her golden gaze fixed on his face, trying to read the truth behind his impassive expression. Nathan met her eyes without flinching, his posture calm but firm. "I chose the winning horse," he said, his tone even, almost casual. "I owed Pompey nothing. No loyalty. No friendship. I saw the writing on the wall¡ªhe would lose, and Caesar would rise. That''s why I allied myself with the Pharaoh." A flicker of disdain passed across Cleopatra''s face, quickly masked behind a sardonic smile. "And yet, even that was the wrong choice," she said, her words sharp as thorns. "You must know by now how hopelessly foolish my brother is¡ªand how even more foolish are the old men whispering behind his throne. Their greed will consume them. Their arrogance will destroy whatever remains of this fragile kingdom." Nathan arched a brow, a faint, mocking curve tugging at the corner of his lips. "And yet... here I stand," he replied coolly. "Unscathed." The meaning wasn''t lost on her. He was subtly reminding her that his true loyalty lay not with her brother, nor even with Pompey¡ªbut with power itself. And in the end, he had chosen Caesar. At the right moment. Just before the tides turned. Cleopatra''s lips curled slightly in amusement. So that''s why he hadn''t delivered Pompey''s head, despite being ordered to. He''d kept the man alive¡ªfor a time, at least. Perhaps to bargain. Perhaps to wait and see who would emerge victorious. It hadn''t been about mercy. Nor about gold. There was something deeper behind his decisions. Cleopatra could feel it. This man was not driven solely by coin or survival. He was hiding something. And that intrigued her. "So tell me," she said, her voice soft, silky, but her eyes sharp with curiosity. "If Caesar came to you tomorrow and asked you to kill my brother... would you do it?" Nathan leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough for the firelight to dance in his crimson eyes. His smirk returned¡ªcolder this time, edged with dangerous honesty. "If the pay was high enough," he said, his voice like a blade slipping from its sheath, "I''d kill you, too." The tent fell silent for a moment, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Cleopatra didn''t look away. Her golden eyes deepened in color, glowing like twin suns behind storm clouds. She studied him intently¡ªnot with anger, but fascination. He wasn''t bluffing. He wasn''t trying to intimidate her. He meant every word. "You''re not the Septimius I''ve heard tales about," she said at last, almost wistfully. "You''re not the man Apollodorus described when he first mentioned you. I imagined someone... simpler. Someone easier to use. But you... You''re far more dangerous. And far more valuable. What a shame that someone like you wasted his talents serving my brother''s court." She let out a sigh, not of resignation, but contemplation. Nathan''s expression remained unreadable. "Did you call me here just to flatter me, or waste my time?" "I don''t waste words unless there''s something to gain," Cleopatra replied smoothly, her gaze never leaving his. "I called you here because I want something." His eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you want?" Cleopatra''s lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile. A dangerous smile. "I want you to take my side," she said. "Not Caesar''s." Chapter 375: Cleopatras plan Cleopatra''s lips curved into a slow, enigmatic smile. A dangerous smile. "I want you to take my side," she said. "Not Caesar''s." "Your side?" Nathan echoed, raising an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief slipping into his voice. Her words caught him off guard¡ªnot because of what she asked, but because of the way she framed it. Wasn''t Caesar''s side technically her side? He found it curious. Cleopatra had spoken with such unwavering confidence just moments ago, declaring that Caesar would inevitably back her claim to the Egyptian throne over Ptolemy''s. Yet here she was, speaking of Caesar as if he were a separate entity¡ªan outsider. A tool to be used, perhaps, but not someone she considered truly aligned with her cause. It was a subtle distinction, but one that carried enormous weight. Nathan''s thoughts lingered on that nuance. Most rulers would have basked in the security of a Roman alliance. They would have celebrated Caesar''s support as a victory already secured. But Cleopatra was different. She wasn''t celebrating. She wasn''t relaxing. She was preparing. Always preparing. In her mind, the war wasn''t over¡ªnot truly. Not with Rome involved. What he saw in her was not just the cunning of a politician, but the foresight of a ruler who refused to let anyone¡ªno matter how powerful¡ªhold her leash. She trusted no one, not fully. Not even Caesar. And in a strange way... Nathan respected that. "Yes, my side. Not Caesar''s." Cleopatra confirmed, her eyes gleaming like twin shards of obsidian. Calm, composed¡ªbut carrying an unmistakable edge. Nathan exhaled slowly, trying to measure her intent. "You''re asking me that right after I''ve pledged myself to an alliance with him." There was no accusation in his tone, just quiet curiosity. It felt like a game of chess, and she had just moved a piece he hadn''t seen coming. Part of him wanted to refuse her outright. The alliance with Caesar was a means to an end. Through him, Nathan had a path into the heart of the Roman Empire¡ªinto its very capital. A direct line to the real power and information he needed. Throwing that away for Cleopatra''s sake, especially now, would be stupid. And yet... he didn''t walk away. He wanted to hear more. Cleopatra''s lips curved slightly, a knowing smile brushing her features. She had expected his hesitation. "I don''t expect you to abandon Caesar," she said softly. "In fact, I need you to stay at his side. Closer than ever." She leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into something more intimate, more dangerous. "I want you to be my eyes and ears in Rome. I need information. I need a shadow among their senators and generals. A whisper in the halls of power." A spy. She had no intention of letting her debt to Rome become a chain around her neck. In her mind, her brother Ptolemy was already defeated, irrelevant. The real danger wasn''t him¡ªit was the empire that would demand gratitude in return for their favor. Rome had helped her claim the throne, and sooner or later, they would expect their reward. A foothold. A puppet queen. But Cleopatra would never be a puppet. She was already planning for the day when the very hands that lifted her would try to hold her down. Her real enemy wasn''t in Alexandria. It was the Roman Senate. The Consuls. The Generals. Even Caesar himself, if he overstepped. And to fight that battle, she needed leverage. She needed secrets. She needed Nathan. Cleopatra reclined again, the firelight casting shadows across her face, her gold ornaments glinting like the gaze of a serpent lying in wait. Her eyes never left his. "I want someone at the heart of Rome who answers to me, not to the eagle of the Empire. Will you be that man?" And she expected him¡ªNathan¡ªto do it for her. It was audacious, bold... and perhaps the most dangerous offer he''d received in his life. Still, the fact that Caesar had so quickly taken him under his wing¡ªthat he had chosen to keep Nathan close¡ªwas already a significant omen. A sign that the Roman general saw value in him, trusted him. Caesar was no fool. He wouldn''t make such decisions lightly. Cleopatra, ever perceptive, must have noticed that too. And now, like any shrewd tactician, she wanted to exploit it. If she could sway Nathan¡ªif she could bring him to her side¡ªhe wouldn''t merely be a set of ears in the heart of the Roman Empire. No, she had grander designs for him. She could ask him to shift the very tide of power within the empire¡ªnot through diplomacy or politics, but through the language mercenaries knew best. Through blood. By eliminating those in Caesar''s way¡ªor hers. Discreetly. Silently. Permanently. Assassination, sabotage, pressure in the shadows. That''s what she wanted. "Have you really thought this through before asking me?" Nathan finally spoke, his voice cool but serious¡ªno mocking tone, no sarcasm. Only calculation. He fixed his gaze on her, searching for a crack in her composure. He found none. "By all measures, staying at Caesar''s side is the smartest play. He''s not just a general¡ªhe''s the face of the Roman Empire. The man holds influence far beyond the battlefield. Power, gold, legacy... it all flows toward him like rivers to the sea." Nathan leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "And more importantly, he already has the upper hand on you, whether you like it or not. He can offer me everything a mercenary could want¡ªgold, weapons, prestige. He just needs to point at a man, and I''ll make him disappear. In Rome, I can rise high as long as I stay useful. So why¡ªknowing all that¡ªare you asking me to betray him?" His words weren''t rhetorical. He genuinely wanted to understand. The logic behind it. The leverage. Most mercenaries would have already declined and walked away with Caesar''s favor in their pocket. But Nathan wasn''t just a mercenary. He didn''t care about money for its own sake. He cared about meaning. And if there was something greater to gain¡ªpower, influence, a place in history¡ªhe would consider it. Cleopatra''s lips curled into a slow, amused smile. "You speak more wisely than the rumors suggested," she said, unfazed by his reasoning. If anything, his resistance only intrigued her more. "But you are wrong if you think Caesar is the only one who can give you what you desire." She stood, the golden hem of her robes trailing like fire behind her as she approached him. Her scent¡ªjasmine and something more ancient, something sacred¡ªfilled the air between them. "Gold?" she said, almost scoffing. "I can give you more than he ever will. Power? I will create it for you. And most importantly, my empire¡ªmy future empire¡ªwill not remain a pawn of Rome." Her voice grew firmer, burning with the certainty of someone who did not believe in failure. "It will rise. It will match the strength of Rome, and one day... surpass it. And when that day comes, I will remember the ones who stood by me before the sun rose." Nathan let out a low chuckle, not in ridicule but in amusement. "So you''re asking me to gamble," he said, eyes narrowing with interest. "To place my bet on a future that hasn''t yet come." "Yes," she replied without hesitation, her orange-gold eyes glowing like twin flames beneath the torchlight. "Help me reduce Rome''s stranglehold on the world. Weaken them from within. In exchange, I will give you not just wealth, but a name etched into the legacy of the Amun Ra Empire. A title. A status no Roman would ever grant a foreigner¡ªlet alone a sellsword." There was no deception in her eyes. Only raw ambition. She wasn''t lying. She believed in what she said. She was willing to reshape history¡ªand she was offering him a place in that vision. Nathan looked at her for a long moment, silent. Then, slowly, his lips curved into the faintest smile. Now this was getting interesting. Nathan had nearly refused her. When Cleopatra first made her bold proposal, his instincts had leaned toward dismissal. He thought he hadn''t the time to indulge in her ambitions. There were larger things in motion¡ªgreater wars to prepare for, deeper secrets to keep buried. He couldn''t afford distractions, not when every second counted. And yet... this wasn''t a distraction. This was a gift. As he stood there, listening to her speak with such certainty and flame, something shifted inside him. A realization dawned¡ªsharp and gleaming like the edge of a blade: Cleopatra was perfect. Not perfect in the soft, idyllic way poets described women. No, she was perfect in the way a well-honed weapon was. Ruthless. Ambitious. Visionary. The kind of ally who could change the fate of empires with a single whisper. The kind of person who would not hesitate to stab a thousand backs if it meant taking her throne and keeping it. And that made her valuable. In truth, priceless. Nathan''s mind was already racing far beyond the sands of the Amun Ra Empire or the marble halls of Rome. He wasn''t thinking of Caesar anymore, nor Ptolemy. He was thinking of the Light Empire. The true enemy. He would burn it down. But to do that, he needed allies. Real allies. Not kingdoms that bowed from fear or convenience, but powers that would march beside him in fire and shadow. And Cleopatra''s Amun Ra Empire... could be one of them. Currently, her empire was allied with the Light Empire¡ªa decision not of her making, but of her brother''s. Ptolemy, in his fear and ignorance, had likely pushed for the alliance, listening to his simpering advisors who whispered of divine favor and "protection." They had reached out to the Light Empire as if to a savior, hoping to secure their rule through the might of a holier-than-thou tyrant. Cowards. Shortsighted, trembling cowards clinging to power through borrowed strength. But Cleopatra wasn''t like them. Whether she supported the alliance or simply tolerated it for now, Nathan didn''t care. That would change. One way or another, it had to change. If she already disliked the Light Empire, then perfect¡ªhe''d give her the means to shatter the alliance herself. And if she didn''t...? Then he would force her hand. He would make her see what must be done. He would push her, corner her, break her if needed¡ªand then rebuild her as something stronger. Something greater. And when that happened, he would guide her to forge a new alliance¡ªnot with the Light, but with Tenebria, the Demon Kingdom. With Tenebria and Cleopatra on his side, and with the Kingdom of Kastoria already moving under his quiet influence, Nathan would possess the strength of titans. The power to strike the Light Empire not just on one front¡ªbut on all. Still, now was not the time to unveil the truth. Not yet. Cleopatra might be clever, but she wasn''t ready to glimpse what truly moved behind his mask. She still believed him to be Septimius¡ªa sharp-tongued mercenary favored by Caesar. That identity had use, and Nathan would wield it to perfection until the moment came to cast it aside. For now, he would walk the Roman halls as Septimius. He would whisper where it mattered, sever what needed severing, and poison the roots of Rome if he had to¡ªall while feeding Cleopatra just enough truth to keep her hungry for more. The real war hadn''t begun yet. Chapter 376: Cleopatras charming For now, he would walk the Roman halls as Septimius. He would whisper where it mattered, sever what needed severing, and poison the roots of Rome if he had to¡ªall while feeding Cleopatra just enough truth to keep her hungry for more. The real war hadn''t begun yet. "That''s quite the bold proposal," Nathan said, his tone laced with curiosity and caution. "Ambitious too. If what you''re planning does come to pass, I imagine it would be... advantageous for me to be the ally who helped you rise to such heights." He leaned back slightly, his sharp eyes never leaving Cleopatra''s. The flickering torchlight in the tent danced across his white hair. Cleopatra remained silent, her expression unreadable. She sat with the poise of a queen born to command, her face a portrait of enigmatic beauty and veiled calculation. She didn''t speak, didn''t blink ¡ª she simply watched, as if waiting for Nathan to draw his own conclusions. A long pause followed. Then, Nathan''s gaze narrowed. There was steel in his voice when he spoke next. "But can I really trust you?" he asked, slowly. "You ask me to betray Caesar. Turn against the very man whose favor I''ve earned. And for what? What assurance do I have that you won''t slit my throat the moment I''ve outlived my usefulness, Queen Cleopatra?" A soft, melodic laugh escaped her lips ¡ª rich, amused, and not without a hint of admiration. She tilted her head, strands of her dark hair catching the candlelight like strands of woven silk. Nathan''s defiance amused her. No, more than that ¡ª it intrigued her. There was something about him that she couldn''t quite name, something beneath the surface of the rogue fac?ade. Something dangerous. "You don''t," she said simply, her voice smooth as honey. "You have no assurance. I could very well betray you. Perhaps I will. But for now... we are allies. And I have every reason to keep you alive and close to me. Wouldn''t you agree?" She rested her chin delicately on her cheek, eyes gleaming like polished amber stones. "I don''t waste time ¡ª or breath ¡ª on those I don''t deem worthy. You should feel honored, mercenary." To her, Nathan was an enigma. A sword-for-hire with the bearing of a noble and the gaze of a man who had seen too much and regretted too little. From the moment he marched into her palace ¡ª audaciously dragging Pompey behind him, as if Roman politics were mere trifles ¡ª Cleopatra knew he wasn''t ordinary. There was something about him, something primal and unnerving. He did not act like a man surrounded by lions. He acted like the lion himself. When he stood before Caesar, he hadn''t flinched. He hadn''t bowed. Not once had he lowered his gaze, even under the full weight of Caesar''s presence ¡ª a presence that had bent senators and generals to their knees. No, Nathan had met that gaze head-on, unflinching, unyielding. If anything, it was as if he were the one judging them. Cleopatra''s instincts, honed by years of surviving treachery and ambition in the Amun Ra court, whispered that Nathan was more than a mercenary. He had presence, yes ¡ª but also power, and the rare, intoxicating blend of pride and pragmatism. He was dangerous. And dangerous men could be either powerful allies or catastrophic enemies. Just like Caesar, she knew the game. And she knew that Caesar had seen the same thing she did ¡ª the fire beneath the calm, the potential beneath the ragged armor. That was why he had taken Nathan into his confidence so quickly, leaving even his closest companions in disbelief. "You seem to think very highly of me," Nathan said, his tone laced with suspicion as his crimson eyes narrowed slightly. A part of him couldn''t help but wonder ¡ª had she been in contact with one of the gods? Had some divine whisper reached her ears, speaking of him? Was that why she kept looking at him like he was something more than mortal? But Cleopatra didn''t answer his unspoken thoughts. She only smiled ¡ª slow, confident, the kind of smile that belonged to a woman who always got what she wanted. With the grace of a cat, she stepped closer to him, her delicate hands brushing lightly along his arms, then sliding over the hard plane of his chest, as if mapping the lines of a statue carved by war itself. There was no fear in her ¡ª only fascination. "I can feel your strength," she murmured, her voice soft like silk, brushing against his skin more intimately than her fingers. "Men like you... they''re rare. I''ve known kings, generals, warriors... but none felt like this." She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Tell me the truth ¡ª are you strong enough to defeat Caesar himself?" Nathan said nothing. He didn''t flinch, didn''t even blink. But the air between them suddenly thickened with tension. He wasn''t sure how strong Caesar truly was. The Roman''s aura, the way space bent around him when he moved with purpose ¡ª it hinted at something approaching divinity. A man knocking at the door of godhood. A Demigod in the making. But Nathan wasn''t intimidated. Because deep down, he knew. He had fought worse. And if it came down to it... he was confident he could win. He just didn''t say it. But Cleopatra, sharp as ever, caught it in the flicker of his eyes ¡ª that cold fire burning steady, unwavering. She smirked. "You are, aren''t you?" There was no question in her voice anymore. She wasn''t asking ¡ª she was confirming what she already knew in her gut. This man wasn''t ordinary. This man could change the world. But Nathan''s voice remained cold, distant. "Even if I could defeat him... why do you assume I''d go that far for you?" Cleopatra laughed softly, as though he''d said something adorably naive. "You don''t have to be so cold," she said, and before he could step back, her hand drifted lower ¡ª past his waist, brushing against the fabric of his pants, her fingers slipping boldly forward. She found what she was looking for. Her eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise. "Well... you carry more than just strength, I see." Nathan didn''t move. He allowed her touch, but his voice was steady and pointed. "Is that how you win allies? With your body?" Cleopatra didn''t pull back. If anything, her smile deepened. "Do you think me so cheap?" she asked, tracing him slowly, almost teasingly. "I''ve never touched a man like this before. I thought Caesar would be the first ¡ª the only one worthy of it." She paused, her gaze lifting to meet his once more. There was no coyness in her now. Just honesty ¡ª raw and simple. "But then you arrived." Nathan frowned slightly, caught between suspicion and confusion. "You''re saying I''m more worthy than Caesar?" he asked, still not sure how she had come to that conclusion. "Perhaps," she said with a shrug, her golden earrings swaying gently as she moved. "Perhaps not. But if I had to choose between the two of you right now... to share that first, to offer what I''ve never offered any man..." She stepped even closer, her voice a whisper that danced with fire. "I would choose you." Chapter 377: Eating Cleopatra (1) * "Perhaps," she said with a shrug, her golden earrings swaying gently as she moved. "Perhaps not. But if I had to choose between the two of you right now... to share that first, to offer what I''ve never offered any man..." She stepped even closer, her voice a whisper that danced with fire. "I would choose you." I stared at her¡ªlonger than I should have. It wasn''t merely because Cleopatra recognized something hidden within me, something raw and unshaped, a potential yet to be forged. No, there was more. Her gaze lingered on me not with the cold calculation of a ruler, but with the unmistakable heat of a woman drawn toward a man. And I could feel it¡ªsense it in the air between us like the charged silence before a storm. Perhaps I had Aphrodite''s passive Divine Rank Skill to thank for this sudden allure. The gods had their ways, and their gifts¡ªno matter how subtle¡ªoften came laced with unpredictable consequences. But in this moment, I wasn''t about to complain. Cleopatra''s delicate hand slid down with practiced ease, pressing gently against the fabric of my trousers, where my growing arousal betrayed my curiosity¡ªand my interest. Her fingers moved with the finesse of someone who understood the art of seduction not as a whim but as a weapon, as if she had studied every gesture, every breath, every reaction. Virgin though she may be, her touch carried the knowledge of someone who had learned how to wield desire like a dagger. Perhaps she had intended this kind of intimacy for Caesar¡ªa weaponized charm meant to draw him in completely and ensure her grip on his heart and mind. But now, with her hand on me, her attention solely fixed on me, it was clear: she had made a different choice. "You really want me to fuck you here?" I asked, voice low, my tone serious. "In your tent? While your guards are just outside? What would they think of their Queen surrendering herself to a mercenary?" Her lips curled into a knowing, confident smile. "I know you''re not just a mercenary," she said, the gleam in her eyes cutting straight through me. "And as you said... I am their Queen." She stepped closer, her presence commanding even in such a private moment. "I have the right to choose who I lie with. They won''t question it. Their faith in me runs deeper than that." I couldn''t deny it. Outside the tent, her men waited, loyal and silent. The way they looked at her¡ªlike she was divinity in human form¡ªspoke volumes. They wouldn''t dare question her actions. Not even if she invited a stranger into her bed. "What are you still thinking about?" she whispered, her voice almost playful as she closed the distance between us. She rose slightly, standing on the tips of her toes so our lips were just a breath apart. "I''m offering you something no man on this continent would refuse. The chance to take the Queen of the Amun Ra Empire... and you hesitate?" Then, without waiting for my answer, she kissed me¡ªsoftly at first, with a teasing sort of sweetness that belied the fire beneath it. I gave in. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against me, our bodies pressed together. I kissed her back with unfiltered hunger, devouring the softness of her lips, tasting the heat of her desire. "Mmm~" she hummed against me, a smile forming even as we kissed. She tasted like wine left to steep in sunshine, like warmth curling through the spine at the first touch of velvet against bare skin. I kissed her¡ªno, I devoured her. Tongue sliding along her lips, licking slow, teasing, savoring the salt and softness of her mouth like it was the only thing keeping me alive. Her lips parted for me with a breathy gasp, lips slick with heat, mouth eager, yielding, and my hand traced the arch of her back with the patience of a worshipper. That dress¡ªopen-backed, scandalously so¡ªwas a cruel tease, showing the smooth spread of her golden skin like moonlight poured over silk. My hand wandered freely, exploring that expanse, fingers gliding from the base of her neck to the small of her back. Every inch of her was soft, decadent, her skin warmed by the heat blooming between us. Her body shivered beneath my palm, delicate tremors that only deepened my hunger, and my touch grew firmer, bolder, fingers splaying possessively over that naked flesh. Her breathing hitched. So did mine. The tension was molten, rising between our bodies like pressure beneath a volcano, and I couldn''t stand the distance. I caught her eyes¡ªthose regal, unreadable, burning eyes¡ªand I pulled the strap of her dress down. One smooth, swift motion, and the garment surrendered. Her breasts spilled free, perfect and proud, nipples already tightening under the cool air and the hotter gaze I devoured her with. They were full, generous, obscene in their beauty, the kind of breasts sculptors dream of carving, but only the gods could ever truly touch. They sat high and firm, their weight swaying slightly as she moved into me, and I reached for them like a man lost at sea, mouth aching to worship. "Beautiful..." I whispered like a prayer, like a curse. Cleopatra¡ªthe Queen herself¡ªstood there before me, half-dressed, half-divine, chest bare and bolder than any army, more dangerous than any poison. Her breasts gleamed in the candlelight, her tan skin catching the glow, shadows and highlights kissing over every curve like unseen hands joining mine. She smiled slowly, knowingly, as if she could feel my thoughts crawl along her body. Then, with a wicked curl of her lip, she pressed against me and let me lift her. She was light in my arms, not in weight, but in how she gave herself. Trusting. Wrapping her legs around my waist, her bare thighs gripping my sides like she already knew I needed to feel her, all of her, everywhere. Her bare skin rubbed against the bulge in my pants, heat-to-heat, pulse-to-pulse. She moaned low¡ª"Hahhnn??..."¡ªas I carried her backward, her fingers tangled in my hair, her lips crashing into mine with desperate hunger. The bed caught her like a throne as I laid her down, her body arching upward in welcome, her hands pulling at my clothes with feral impatience. But I wasn''t done kissing her, not even close. My lips traced a line from hers to her jaw, then down, tongue teasing the delicate flesh beneath her ear, then lower still, to the hollow of her neck where her scent was strongest¡ªintoxicating, rich, a blend of exotic oils and sweat and woman. I kissed lower. Her breath stuttered, soft moans escaping with each press of my mouth, "Mmmnnh... aaahhh??... haaah??..." Her back arched when I reached the swell of her breasts, my tongue circling the dusky peak of her right nipple without haste, letting her feel every degree of heat from my mouth. Then I sucked. "Ooohhhh... fuck," she gasped, head thrown back, hands gripping the sheets like she was trying to anchor herself. Her nipple hardened on my tongue, my teeth scraping it just enough to draw another sharp cry¡ª"Ahhh??! Yesss??!" My hand cupped her other breast, thumb flicking over the peak, teasing it in rhythm with the hungry suck of my mouth. I switched, lips latching onto her left nipple now, and she writhed beneath me, thighs grinding against my hips. She was leaking heat, slickness seeping from between her legs through the thin fabric of the dress still bunched at her hips, and I growled against her skin. "You like that, Queen?" I murmured, breath hot against the curve of her breast. "Yesss... gods, yes... suck me more..." she gasped, dragging my mouth back to her chest, pressing me harder against her. Her desperation was regal. It made her only more beautiful. I obeyed. I worshipped. Mouth wide, I buried my face between her tits, licking, biting, smothering myself in the scent and taste of her. My hands slid down to her hips, gripping, lifting, pulling her dress higher and higher until it was bunched at her waist and finally, blessedly, revealed her cunt¡ªbare, glistening, already drenched. I froze for a breath, staring, aching. She didn''t shave, not entirely. A soft triangle of curls crowned her mound, but beneath¡ªbare lips, swollen, flushed, gleaming wet like ripe fruit after the rain. Her pussy was a poem written in nectar and nerve endings, and I wanted to memorize every line. I pushed her legs apart, palms spreading her thighs, and leaned in, mouth dragging a wet trail down her stomach. She shivered. Then moaned. Then screamed. Because I licked her. Long, slow, tongue dragging from clit to hole, parting her lips with reverence and lust. She bucked under me. "AaAAHHnnn????!!" Her cries tore through the chamber like divine music, her hands flying to my head, fingers clawing into my scalp. I lapped again. Again. My tongue worked with maddening rhythm, teasing the outer lips, dipping into her hole, then circling her clit. I licked her like a beast starved, like a sinner given a second chance at heaven and determined to stay. Her thighs trembled around my head. "Oh gods¡ªdon''t stop¡ªdon''t you dare fucking stop!" she snarled, voice thick with desperation, pride shattered into pure pleasure. I didn''t stop. I devoured. Tongue pushing in, curling, thrusting. Fingers joining, two slipping inside her with ease, meeting her inner heat and the velvet tightness that clamped around me instantly. She was dripping. Hot. Soaked. Her juices coated my mouth, my chin, and still I didn''t stop. Her body bowed like a drawn bow, every muscle tensing. Then she came. With a scream that tore from her chest like a war cry¡ª"AAAHHHHNNNNNNN??????! F-FUCK! FUUUUUCKKKK!!" Her cunt pulsed around my fingers, flooding them, convulsing with waves of orgasm that rippled through her in frantic shudders. Her whole body spasmed, back off the bed, mouth open in a silent scream before sound returned in breathless gasps. And I drank her in. Swallowed her down. Kissed her thighs as they twitched around my head. Her hands were limp now, fingers still in my hair, but no longer gripping. I looked up. Her eyes were glassy, wide, lips swollen from our kisses, chest heaving, nipples hard and wet with saliva. And I wasn''t even close to finished. I stood, unbuckling my belt, pants dropping, cock springing free, thick and leaking. She saw it. She moaned. "Fuck me," Cleopatra hissed, voice ragged and face fully blushing. "Now." I climbed over her, lined up with her dripping entrance, and¡ª