Chapter 105: Roar from the Abyss, Day of Divine Wrath
The promise the sea made with him was unlike any blessing Rowe had ever received from a god.
This time, it was not a divine being leaning down to grant grace to a human.
It was a link forged directly between a human and nature itself.
Just as Poseidon had said, from this moment on, the sea would be like his body.
The ocean would circulate through his existence, and Rowe would forever maintain a body that could not be stained by filth.
Not absolute invulnerability, but something close.
A poison was lethal when it flooded the body.
But if that same poison was thrown into a sea so vast it could no longer be measured, then after being diluted countless times, the toxicity would disappear into nothing.
Rowe's body was now the "drop" linked to that "ocean."
So he spat out Hydra's venom.
Because it could no longer hurt him.
That path had been blocked by Poseidon himself.
…Why are you making it sound so sentimental when I have not even said anything?
Failure itself did not matter much to Rowe; he was long used to it.
What annoyed him was something else entirely.
When he remembered Poseidon's final gesture, Rowe felt a vein twitch in his forehead.
He understood that it had not been disdain, but a form of "respect" in that god's own style.
Even so, an inexplicable sense of frustration still rose in his chest.
Truly, it was probably retribution.
…
"Mr. Rowe, why has he still not come out?"
The sea had become gentle again.
After Hydra's destruction, the Aegean lay once more in calm moonlit ripples. The Argo floated at anchor in its center, lightly rocking with the water.
Heracles stood at the bow, his brows tightly drawn.
High among the sails, Atalanta still kept her place on the lookout platform. Artemis's blessing let her see clearly beneath the pale light of the moon.
That guy is not… in trouble, right?
She clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on the bow.
If that guy dies…
What will I do?
No, what does that guy's death have to do with me?
No, that sounds wrong too.
Anyway, that guy absolutely cannot die.
If you die, even if I have to chase you all the way to Hades, I will drag you back.
You are my prey.
We still have a debt to settle.
At that moment, the sea in front of the ship suddenly bulged upward.
Like a bubble rising from the depths, the swell quivered, then burst.
A figure stepped out of the pale spray.
"Cough, cough…"
Rowe coughed lightly and then walked forward.
He strolled across the water's surface as if ascending a shallow stair, one step at a time, until he returned to the deck of the Argo.
"Mr. Rowe, you really are unharmed." Heracles finally relaxed and smiled. "I thought as much. The one even Prometheus, the fire stealer, praised by keeping only your clay tablets, cannot possibly drag himself into a dead end so easily."
"I am not that easy to kill." Rowe cleared his throat. At the mention of clay tablets, he added, "Besides, I have not collected all my tablets yet."
Those are the ultimate dark history.
"Speaking of which," Heracles said, as if remembering something, "Prometheus seems to have made many copies of your tablets."
Rowe froze.
"Why did you not say that earlier?"
"You never asked."
Heracles blinked, face completely earnest.
This brat is definitely doing it on purpose.
Rowe rubbed his forehead. The urge to go to the Caucasus and "visit" that fire stealing god grew stronger.
Yet, even amid his exasperation, a smile tugged at his lips.
Brave, but not reckless.
Stubborn, but not stupid.
Able to advance when he should, to retreat when he must, to speak seriously when it was needed, to curse and joke when it was allowed.
Rowe did not know what the "original" Heracles of this worldline had been like.
But he felt that this version of the great hero was not bad at all.
As that thought passed, he turned his head and met Atalanta's gaze as she leaped down from the mast.
He smiled.
"Sorry. I did not die."
"Who cares whether you live or die."
Atalanta snorted and looked away, but her eyes still sneaked over him in one quick sweep. Only after confirming he was uninjured did a breath she had not realized she was holding quietly escape.
He is my prey.
Only I am allowed to hurt him.
She used that excuse to soothe the restless feeling inside.
"Let us keep going."
Rowe turned back to the helm.
"This time, I will steer. Ata, go up and watch the route. Heracles…"
"Here."
"You go and rest. You have done enough until now."
Heracles was stunned.
The word seemed almost foreign to him.
Rest.
It had been a long time since anyone told him he could do that.
Throughout the entire journey until now, he had always been the pillar others relied on.
"…Alright."
He finally nodded and allowed himself to step back.
This was good too.
The night slowly thinned.
Far ahead, the first light of dawn peeked over the horizon.
And so,
With only three people on board, the Argo set out once more.
The homeward voyage of three alone crossed the sea of death, which the world claimed even gods could not pass, where the beast Hydra had made its lair. Yet they set sail again and raced across the boundless ocean.
The Sea God Poseidon drove great fish to see them off. The Sun God Helios pointed them toward the road ahead. The four wind gods, the Anemoi, filled their canvas with breath. The great hero carried a spirit that could truly be called great, and their existence would bring true change to all those hidden heroes who walked behind them.
For before them, the real trials had only just begun.
The Argonautica
…
"Lord Rowe. Lord Rowe."
Hermes's voice rode on the breeze, whispering in Rowe's ear.
Rowe's hand on the rudder paused for a moment.
Then he tilted his head slightly, already used to the messenger's presence.
During this period, Hermes had been his constant informant, flitting between god and man.
"Messenger of the King of the Gods" was his formal title.
But at this point, "eyes and ears of the Sage" was not far from the truth.
"What is it?" Rowe asked plainly.
"Hades, ruler of the Underworld, sent word." Hermes's voice dropped, tone turning grave. "Cracks have appeared in the depths of Tartarus, the abyss that imprisons the Titan gods."
"More and more Titan monsters are moving toward the surface."
"Zeus, King of the Gods, prophesies that they will climb Olympus, shatter divine rule, and then annihilate all things on land."
"Hydra was only the vanguard."
No wonder a beast that belonged to the abyss had appeared in the upper sea.
"Be careful on your way," Hermes added. "I must hurry to Olympus to take part in the divine council."
With that final warning, the god of messengers vanished entirely from Rowe's senses.
It was the last message he passed along before the great war truly began.
"Eyes and ears of the Sage" was still only a nickname, after all.
Rowe's fingers tapped the wood of the rudder, then settled around it again as he looked ahead.
At the end of his vision, he could already see the outline of land.
The world was still tranquil.
But Rowe knew that such peace would not last.
Because the Titan monsters were already on their way.
…
"Titan monsters will crawl out from the depths of the abyss."
Mount Olympus.
It stood in the gap between the present world and higher dimensions, a divine mountain rooted in a plane far above the earth. Thunder rolled and broke unceasingly around it.
The King of the Gods wore human form, yet the majesty of a ruler who presided over all creation radiated from him and quietly transcended the world.
Within the brilliant temple, light flickered like constellations.
The gathered gods shone with their own divine radiance.
Zeus spoke.
His voice reverberated through the hall.
"I have already received a prophecy."
"To defeat the Titan monsters, we must borrow the hands of the strongest humans in this present age."
"I command you, gods, to guard your own city states."
"And wait for the moment to arrive."
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