That Atalanta, who had always revered the gods, could utter such outrageous words was proof enough of the shock this sacrifice had caused her.
After the pioneers had devoted countless efforts, the relationship between the Greeks and their gods had gradually evolved into one of mutual benefit and coexistence.
Humans offered sacrifices and provided the power of faith; in return, the Divine Spirits bestowed blessings and gave corresponding rewards—ranging from Magecraft and revelations to weapons and artifacts. By basic principle, the more precious the offering and the purer the devotion, the greater the divine favor one received.
Sacrificial rites had long become an inseparable part of Greek life.
Even Atalanta, living deep within the mountains, and Circe, dwelling across the seas, would often place gifts beloved by their respective gods upon the altar, praying for blessings. The Sky Bow in the huntress's hands and the Moon of the Underworld staff in the great witch's arms were both returns from such exchanges.
But after witnessing Samael's sacrifice, the two found themselves questioning reality itself.
This wasn't a sacrifice at all—it was a divine clearance sale, as if the gods themselves were desperate to unload their treasures!
You must be Athena's bastard son! You absolutely must be Athena's bastard son!
Standing within the Magecraft circle, Samael could only look at the two figures—one tall, one small—whose eerily identical, suspicious gazes left him utterly at a loss for words.
Athena had orchestrated this grand display precisely to solidify his identity as "Theseus." Once his movements aligned with that of the future hero, the path to becoming the King of Athens would lie open before him.
In all fairness, Samael had no reason to complain about the generous gift from the Goddess of Wisdom.
Yet as the ancient serpent lowered his eyes to the golden armor, whose twin wings resembled those of Nike, the goddess of victory, along with its matching bow and arrows, he covered his face with one hand, lips twitching in disbelief.
The goddess's personal guard— the Sagittarius Gold Cloth?!
You actually made this?!
And the materials—those are rare ores from the Earth Mother's Temple! Don't tell me you emptied Gaia's entire stockpile?
Wait... the gemstone embedded in the bow's shaft—doesn't that look like the one that used to be on the Earth Guardian King's head?
You dismantled that too? How wasteful can you be?!
Just as Samael was debating how to quietly exile these flashy artifacts into storage, the snow-white owl perched on his shoulder stopped preening and let out a clear chirp.
"Cheep!"
In an instant, a golden halo rippled outward. The sacred armor on the altar disassembled into plates, which flowed toward their host like living metal, layering and locking into place piece by piece from the feet upward.
Soon, the unfolding wings embedded themselves into his back, while the golden bow and arrows settled neatly into his hands.
Meanwhile, the Medusa-blessed shield infused with the Earth's power, and his black cross spear, both transformed into divine runes, merging into his left and right arms respectively.
As radiant light spilled out across the altar, his first impression was simple—blinding and attention-grabbing.
Samael averted his gaze to the night sky, expression blank, his face burning. Thankfully, the darkness was deep enough to hide the flush of shame creeping across his features.
Atalanta and Circe, however, were completely entranced.
After all, these Golden Cloths had been forged from materials supplied by the Earth Mother's Temple, shaped with Samael's own modern aesthetic, designed personally by Athena—the goddess of art herself—and crafted by Hephaestus, the god of the forge, using the molten lava of Mount Etna. To top it off, Typhon, the King of Monsters, had been sealed within the forge to fan the flames, amplifying both the divine energy and the heat of creation.
With that kind of craftsmanship, the resulting Divine Constructs were flawless in both form and function.
If I'd known, I never should have mentioned Saint Seiya to Athena.
Of all my traits she could've inherited, why was it the one for ridiculous pranks?
The ancient serpent led the celestial steed Pegasus forward, glancing at the pure white owl perched stubbornly on his shoulder—as if it intended to stay there permanently—and sighed inwardly.
Right now, that ever-watchful Goddess of Wisdom was probably sprawled across her bed, laughing herself breathless in the most undignified way possible.
"Pfft… hahaha!"
Meanwhile, atop Areopagus, within a palace of exquisite elegance, a silver-haired goddess lay collapsed on her bed, curled up with laughter, her voice ringing out in pure, unrestrained delight.
"Bastard? Pfft... Great idea. Decided! That's settled."
"Cosmos, ignite! Pulse of Light! Golden Wind! Golden Arrow! Hahaha!"
"Ahaha—stop, stop! I can't—I'm going to die laughing..."
Athena clutched her aching stomach, taking a long while to recover from her laughter.
Moments later, the figure beneath the covers squirmed like a caterpillar. Strands of silver hair spilled messily from beneath the blanket. The head buried under the pillow lifted slightly, and half-lidded eyes gazed dreamily at the star map glittering across the temple's dome. A faint blush colored her delicate face as she murmured softly.
"Sagittarius Gold Saint, you must protect your goddess well…
After all..."
Just as Athena wiggled her index finger, tapping her smooth chin, her lips parting as if to continue, she suddenly sensed something. Her eyes sharpened at once. Moving with lightning speed, she sprang out of bed and hastily straightened the room.
Moments later, the elegant goddess stood tall and regal, Aegis Shield and Scepter of Victory in hand, as a heavy knock echoed against the door.
"Enter."
With the goddess's soft permission, a silver-haired, blue-eyed warrior woman stepped inside. A shield rested on her left arm, a long spear in her right. Gone was her usual defiance—she knelt respectfully on one knee before Athena.
"Your Divine Majesty, you summoned me. What are your orders?"
The sound of shifting golden armor accompanied the sight of her tanned, healthy skin marked by glowing crimson divine sigils.
"I heard that the graduation trial you applied for at the Academy of Athens is to take part in the Calydon Hunt?"
"Yes!"
"Then, while you're there, keep an eye on a certain hero who will also be joining the Calydon Hunt."
"If that person encounters danger?"
"There's no need to intervene. Just observe. Report his condition to me each night."
"Lady Goddess, if I may ask... who is he?"
"My bastard son."
"...Huh?"
"Hehe, just kidding. He's the Prince of Athens, from the city of Troezen."
Troezen? That city-state devoted to Poseidon?
Tch. That doesn't sit right.
The warrior's brows furrowed briefly, but she quickly suppressed her irritation. She pressed her right fist to her chest and solemnly accepted the command.
"As you wish, Lady Goddess."
"No need to be so serious. It's just a personal favor. Go now—you should be on your way."
Athena smiled faintly and gestured with a wave of her hand. The warrior rose, turned to leave, and once outside, swung her arms downward. The divine runes across her body flared to life, and jets of Ether burst forth, forming twin wings of golden-red flame behind her.
Pierce the storm wall, reach the sea of stars—fly, my golden wings!
"Boom!"
The warrior leapt into the air, soaring hundreds of meters high. Locking onto her direction, she flew south like a blazing phoenix, wings cutting through the sky.
Athena glanced at the fractured rock outside the temple platform. With a gentle motion, she mended the cracks and shook her head slightly.
If I remember right, her name was Caenis—hailing from the coastal city-state of Thessaly.
She probably got herself into trouble after mouthing off about the Areopagus trial, cursing that rapist son of Poseidon who got killed in return. Now the sea god's marked her, forcing her to flee to Athens for refuge.
A hot-headed girl, rash and reckless.
Though honestly... I wonder who will be taking care of whom.
...
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