"I'll enter the Trojan War as a third party. If I win the campaign, then I win the bet. And then..."
"You'll all have to acknowledge what I just said."
The Sage's words hit the four goddesses like a hammer, leaving them rooted in place.
Aphrodite sneered. "…A mere human. You think having strength above us means you can stick your hand into a game meant for gods?"
"Why not?" Rovi lifted his fist and gave it a casual shake.
Aphrodite: "…"
Hera's frown deepened. "Sage, are you making a joke of us?"
Hestia kept watching, like it had nothing to do with her.
Only Athena tightened her grip on Rovi's hand, offering open support.
"I'm not joking," Rovi said.
From their reactions alone, he knew he'd been right—the Trojan War would happen either way.
Even if the Key of Heaven he'd left behind had replaced the Golden Apple.
Because the Trojan War wasn't just a squabble—it was a war fated to occur. Troy sat on a critical choke point along Greek trade routes. Its land was rich, its treasures vast, and its power daunting—enough to stir both greed and fear among the surrounding city-states. Look deeper, and the real root was the standoff between two divine camps.
Supporting the Greek coalition: Athena, Hera, and Hephaestus.
Backing Troy: Apollo, Aphrodite, and Ares—Mars had gone to the future, but an echo of him remained here to fulfill the myth's required role.
Two sides.
Half the Twelve Olympians involved.
Rovi had already learned as much in the Netherworld. Hades visited Uruk's underworld often, and he always brought tidings with him.
A ruler of the dead was sensitive to war by nature. If war erupted in the world of the living, the Netherworld's numbers would surge. At first, Rovi had assumed it was simply the Trojan War—triggered by the Golden Apple. He hadn't connected it to himself.
But even then, he'd decided he would join the conflict that would sweep the Greek gods up in its wake.
After returning from the Netherworld, his goal had shifted.
He'd promised Gilgamesh he would clear the obstacles in heaven and in the world of men—so Uruk could be remade and moved into Greece.
The Trojan War was the perfect entry point. The best moment to drag Uruk back into the living world.
And in that instant, the temple of Olympus seemed to answer him.
Divine radiance wove through the air. One major god after another manifested.
The four goddesses already present went without saying. Apollo stepped out from the sun-crown hanging in the heavens. Hephaestus emerged in a surge of flame. Demeter appeared—goddess of earth and harvest. Artemis followed—goddess of the moon…
Figures arrived one after another until—aside from the three neutral God-Kings—all the major gods had gathered.
Rovi's status was special. Even if he was "only" human, he was indisputably the hero who had saved Greece. He had long since entered the gods' sights.
Only Zeus—strong enough to suppress Cronus at his peak—still didn't care about him. Every other god watched his every move.
And now, after what he'd said, they gathered without hesitation.
Solemn and dignified, they stood within the temple. Apollo, at the front, drew breath to speak...
"Rovi… my Rovi… Rovi…"
Everyone: "????"
"That wasn't me!" Apollo's scalp went numb. He whipped his head toward the voice, stunned.
Behind him, Artemis stood in a heavy gown woven of moonlight, staring at the Sage with a lovestruck, vacant expression. If not for Demeter beside her—blonde and girlish in appearance, yet steady as an elder in temperament—holding her back, the goddess of the moon and hunt would've charged straight at him.
"…"
Apollo pressed a hand to his forehead. "Enough. Anyone not participating in the Trojan War, leave!"
One after another—what kind of gods were these?!
He almost wanted to learn from his father and start cursing too… No. I'm the God-King's eldest son, keeper of light and art. I must be refined.
Apollo forced his smile back into place.
And with that, the gods dispersed. Only six major gods remained—the ones participating in the Trojan War—along with one man.
Demeter dragged Artemis away by force.
Artemis, as if wary of someone, never truly lunged in to cling to Rovi.
"Now we can discuss the real matter," Hera said first. "Sage Rovi, surely you are joking."
"A wager among gods cannot include a human," she continued. "Even if we acknowledge you as a being whose brilliance stands equal to ours." Years at Zeus's side had given her the bearing to match her station.
"Indeed," Apollo added with an easy smile. "If you have demands, we'll do our best to meet them, but no matter what, gods and humans are different."
"And with your strength, you shouldn't enter such a dispute directly. To step into the human world as a mere piece on the board would be beneath you."
Apollo's tone was warm—elegant, even.
"Though you're only human, your wisdom and strength are without peer… you should become my treasure," Aphrodite said, lifting a hand to sweep back her crimson hair. Her delicate, beautiful face carried absolute confidence; her swaying body all but dripped temptation.
Hephaestus—weathered and silent—didn't speak. As Aphrodite's husband in name, he only wore a look of quiet worry, but his stance made his position plain enough.
Hestia, who neither joined the feud nor cared about the "most beautiful" title, somehow produced a cup of wine and took a leisurely sip.
This grape flavor is intense.
Hic…
Ares's echo—left behind by Mars—needed no explanation. And aside from Athena, who backed Rovi unconditionally, the others' stance was crystal clear.
Rovi wasn't a god, so he couldn't sit at their table as one.
He wasn't a king or lord with a faction behind him, either.
In the gods' eyes, he was just human.
But his power surpassed ordinary gods—perhaps even major gods—so he also couldn't enter Troy as a mere "hero." It would shatter the balance.
"Then what if…" Rovi smiled. "What if I'm a god too?"
"What if I have an army of my own?"
The gods exchanged looks. Only Athena wore a knowing smile.
Then, in the next heartbeat, magnificent light poured down from the sky.
High above, the phantom of a colossal machine-god took shape.
Rovi cast his gaze toward the human world. The Aegean Sea rolled with restless waves. Outside Troy's walls, banners snapped in the wind as the Greek coalition's armies camped in siege.
Someone jerked their head up. Priests devoted to the gods bowed in reverence. Others stared past the marching lines toward a sunlit emptiness—where mist boiled, light and shadow staggered, and a doorway seemed to open.
Figures stepped out.
They wore armor. They were tall, faces stern. Spears and shields in hand, their bodies wrapped in dense mana.
Their footfalls fell into an ordered rhythm—grim, disciplined, imposing.
An army.
An army from the Netherworld—Uruk's battle-hardened people!
...
Outside Troy, the Greek coalition had long failed to break the towering city, and even its commander was troubled.
Then the gods of the high heavens manifested. It was the Sage returned in death's wake—human, and also god.
Under the gaze of Olympus, he revealed a grandeur that surpassed the sky itself. With a single sweep of his hand, he drew forth countless soldiers from the void—steel and spear in iron discipline, rising like a forest.
They roared for victory. They roared for the god of the high heavens—
The god of ten thousand machines, and the lord of ten thousand armies.
—The Trojan War
...
Rovi looked at Apollo. Then at the rest of the gods.
"Now do I qualify?"
Apollo lowered his gaze… then nodded heavily.
"You do."