As the morning sun rose, its radiant light scattered the mist. Across the wilderness, the great host returning from the forest drew steadily closer.
Hearing the commotion, the people of Calydon gathered along both sides of the streets, fortunate enough to witness the birth of two great events.
The first—after more than a decade of devastation, countless ruined fields, and hundreds of fallen hunters—the Demon Boar had finally been eradicated.
In solemn reverence, Prince Meleager led his procession into the city. Hundreds of wagons bore the corpses of thousands of Demon Boars, large and small, as the line of carriages stretched across the horizon.
The heroes who had taken part in the hunt surrounded the colossal remains of the Primordial Boar, their heads held high and chests proud.
Its tusks were sharper than chisels.
Its hide was harder than steel.
Its body—massive as a mountain—radiated an awe that pressed on every onlooker's chest.
Even lying lifeless, the creature's presence was suffocating, evoking primal fear.
Was this truly the divine punishment that had haunted Calydon for over ten years?
Today, the shadow that had weighed upon their hearts was finally lifted.
Disbelieving citizens stepped forward to prod the carcass, and only after confirming that it was indeed real did the tension burst. The crowd erupted, their hoarse voices echoing with overwhelming relief and joy.
"Heaven-sent hero! Great hero!"
"We won! That beast is dead!"
A wave of cheers surged through the city, so loud it nearly halted the returning procession.
People rushed to buy up every flower and bottle of wine nearby, showering the heroes with petals and gifts of food and drink in gratitude.
The bodies of the fallen heroes were also brought home, their return adding a solemn note to the day's triumph.
But when the last two royal figures appeared in view, an uncanny hush fell—followed by cheers even louder than when the Demon Boar entered the gates.
The second joyous event—those who knew, knew well enough.
...
By dusk, bonfires burned bright, and the scent of incense wafted through the air, rich and fragrant.
The young, capable Prince Meleager and the aging king led the people in a grand sacrifice to the huntress goddess Artemis, offering the Demon Boar's carcass along with fine cattle and sheep to atone for past offenses.
As for the Queen of Calydon, she had fallen ill with a cold and was unable to attend, forcing the royal banquet in the palace to be canceled.
In her stead, Prince Meleager oversaw the festivities and ordered the Demon Boar's meat to be distributed among the people—so that everyone could vent their long-held fear and resentment through feasting.
Thus, with two blessings to celebrate, the citizens of Calydon tore into the Magical Beast's meat, drank wine without restraint, and sang and danced deep into the night, reveling in the glory of victory.
The heroes who had joined the Calydonian Hunt were pulled into the celebration by groups of admiring young men and beautiful maidens.
Without the king or queen present, the revelry only grew livelier, the joy more unrestrained.
Prince Meleager made his rounds through the banquet, offering toasts as he went. After a full circuit, he realized the two faces he sought were nowhere to be found. With a small, resigned shake of his head, he understood.
The two true heroes of the Calydonian Hunt had already slipped away.
...
Beneath the city walls, a figure sat on the grass, leaning casually against a tree trunk. In one hand was a cluster of gooseberries, in the other a jug of wine. He drank slowly, content and unhurried, exuding an effortless calm.
Before long, a snow-white owl circled down from the sky, folding its wings as it perched gracefully on its master's shoulder. Its keen golden eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.
And then, a light, melodic laughter echoed within Samael's mind.
"Hehe, teacher, you've gotten even worse than before."
"How can you slander me out of nowhere?"
"See? I haven't even said what you did, and you've already confessed."
"I'm such a kind and just person—what could I possibly have done?"
"Drop the act. Meleager's two uncles getting hacked into mince by those heroes—that was your doing, wasn't it?"
"As the dignified Goddess of Wisdom, you shouldn't speak recklessly. You need evidence for your accusations."
"Tch, I'm not your old flame Themis. Wisdom's darker side is scheming, you know. Who says everything has to be by the book? Keep pretending, and I'll send an oracle to Caenis, tell her to visit the Queen of Calydon, and expose you. Let's see how you wriggle out of that."
On the War God's Mountain, Athena's threat to flip the table laid bare someone's not-so-innocent nature.
Facing his adoptive daughter who refused to play by the rules, Samael rolled his eyes and admitted the "crime" without shame, wearing the same unbothered expression of a pig unafraid of boiling water.
Come on—everyone saw it. Those bastards struck first, tried to rob the spoils, and even drew weapons. How could we just let that slide?
Besides, it was a dark, chaotic night with too many people involved. Every single hero present was an accomplice—and it was self-defense anyway.
The dead ones? Sure, they were demigods, the queen's own brothers. But would the Calydon royal family really dare pursue it?
Ha. The king's brothers-in-law aren't worth much. Every Greek hero who came to slay the Demon Boar had divine blood of their own.
Take Theseus, prince of both Troezen and Athens. Atalanta, princess of Arcadia. The twin swordsmen and Helen, children of the Spartan king. Circe, sister to the King of Colchis. Even Jason, prince of Thessaly...
Almost everyone present had ties to one royal house or another—or descended from a demigod line.
If that queen truly wanted to pursue vengeance, she'd be picking a fight with half of Greece.
And that's assuming the hunters who hadn't joined the fight stayed neutral—which they wouldn't. Heroes always stick together.
They'd rushed here the moment Calydon's plea for help reached them. Instead of gratitude, the hosts sent in two fools who insulted and attacked their kin and allies.
What, did they really think these heroes—men who spend their days killing and would wipe out a bloodline over an insult—were pushovers?
Offend Artemis, and maybe Calydon suffers.
Offend this many heroes, and Calydon burns.
If the prince and king have any sense, they'll know how to handle this.
You've noticed, haven't you? The royal house of Calydon hasn't said a word.
So yes—Her Majesty's two brothers died for nothing.
"Tsk. To destroy someone, first drive them mad. Life's so much easier when you just stay alive. Why insist on dying?"
Samael glanced toward the brightly lit banquet hall, swirling the wine jug in his hand, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
"I heard from Caenis you managed to sell those two unlucky bastards a second time?"
In the temple, Athena stroked her smooth chin, amusement glinting in her golden eyes, a sly smile curling her lips.
The "sale" was simple: Samael had suggested Prince Meleager declare his two uncles heroes who died valiantly against the Demon Boar, preserving the demigod family's honor.
In return, the Calydon royal family would turn a blind eye to the bloody "incident" and quietly pay the promised compensation.
"So, you see? A happy ending for everyone."
Samael shrugged, looking quite pleased with himself.
Thanks to those two fools' sacrifice, he'd built solid connections with the other heroes.
"Shared a window once"—one of the four iron bonds of life.
And prison windows? They're still windows—just with extra iron.
As Samael basked in the satisfaction of bending order to his will, Athena's mocking whisper drifted from the temple.
"Oh, I'm done questioning. Aunt Themis, you can decide the sentence for this instigator of crime."