Alexander's face was livid. Watching the deadly trump card he had placed so much hope in vanish, his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white with strain.
The other heroes exchanged glances, shrouded in a solemn atmosphere of an uncertain future.
But in that moment, Hermes lowered his head slightly, the shadow cast by his hat's brim perfectly concealing the corner of his mouth, which he could no longer hide.
"Neither side owes the other anything?" He sneered inwardly.
"Does he truly think that I, Hermes, would go to such extremes and take such risks for mere recovery, even indirectly fostering the birth of a conceptual monster?"
Hermes would never strike a losing deal, let alone willingly become a stepping stone in another's plan—unless he himself was the true chess master.
His gaze seemed to inadvertently glide over the exploding fragments of the spear.
He had always doubted the forging method of this murder weapon.
It was formed from the despair and resentment of war, its power deeply rooted in humanity's most negative collective emotions.
Since it was born from human despair, the most symptomatic 'antidote' would naturally be the opposing force—human hope, condensed from the flame of civilisational legacy and unyielding will!
Alaya Noah had just been born, and his power was precisely that. It was entirely fitting that he could 'detonate' the Spear of Divine Retribution.
His gaze fell upon Alexander, whose face was twisted with fury.
This son of Zeus had sprung from obscurity and united the Greek world with astonishing speed, his rise suspiciously smooth.
Yes, he was Zeus's son, a demigod—but who was his mother?
His intelligence network had never obtained precise information about this 'mysterious mother'.
A lineage of Zeus, seemingly arising from a mere whim of the King of Gods, could receive such immense, almost unwarranted favour and power, enabling him to accomplish this unprecedented feat?
Hermes didn't believe it.
Athena had secretly provided Alexander with much assistance: opening spatial passages, offering strategic advice... But she was never truly selfless.
And Prometheus, from their own world, who also favoured humanity—behind his 'help', wasn't there a selfish intent to guide human civilisation in a specific direction?
While offering aid, she also sowed seeds of suspicion and conflict between Alexander and Olympus...
These 'helpers' seemed more like investors, or rather, like tamers?
So, the most crucial question—the Spear of Divine Retribution, this forbidden weapon specifically crafted to slay gods, whose forging method was provided to Alexander?
Hermes had secretly observed the forging process.
It was an unusual smithing skill.
Gathering the resentment and despair of hundreds of millions of souls on the battlefield, burying them deep within the earth where countless deaths and sorrows were interred, using continuous war and slaughter as the hammer...
This almost cult-like forging technique was steeped in primitive methods of blood and earthly grievance.
Although the goddess of magic was proficient in all manner of strange arts, gathering and forging resentment of this kind was not her forte, and Hermes could guarantee she did not know this method.
This style, this flavour...
It was too similar to the legendary god-slaying scythe used to castrate the first King of Gods, Uranus!
That too was a convergence of supreme negative power, deeply connected to the earth, and used to combat a supreme king of gods.
This smacked of Gaia's handiwork!
The ancient primordial goddess, the embodiment of the earth, had used this method against her husband Uranus.
Could it be her, or someone who had inherited her will and methods, guiding Alexander from behind the scenes, providing him with a weapon capable of threatening the new generation of king of gods?
But Gaia was still asleep.
In the world of Chaos, she remained silent due to excessive consumption;
So who was it? Who could imitate Gaia's techniques? Who could have gained insight into the secret of the God-Slaying Scythe?
Who was using Alexander, the Spear of Retribution, and perhaps even Hermes's own actions today, as part of their calculations?
In Hermes's heart, a clear but vague outline gradually took shape.
This chess game was far larger than he had imagined, and the pieces far more numerous than they appeared.
"But he must have reacted too..."
He recalled that before leaving, somewhere in the realm of Hades, he had sought out the brother who symbolised 'hindsight'—Epimetheus.
Unlike Prometheus, the forethinker, Epimetheus's power lay in the bitterness of afterthought.
"Do me a favour, brother," Hermes had smiled, like a cat eyeing a fish.
"Temporarily attach your power of 'hindsight' to me, in its most inconspicuous form."
Though Epimetheus was confused, he was kind by nature, and often found it difficult to refuse his brother, especially the silver-tongued Hermes.
As a result, an invisible divine power had silently integrated into Hermes.
Therefore, the brilliant light surrounding him that made it impossible to look directly was never as simple as Hecate's prank!
It was a subtle aura of diminished wisdom!
Why did Thalia, always vigilant and possessing a talent for mischief, seem so dull, even falling into philosophical confusion and struggling to escape?
With her perception as the new goddess of emotions, how could she be oblivious to the series of unusual actions by Hermes and the atmosphere thick with impending schemes?
Hecate, the ever-clever goddess of magic, was foolish enough to think the god of trickery would be tricked by her.
As for Eros, no change... Was that because she was always this foolish?
"Alaya Noah..." Hermes chuckled inwardly.
"At this moment, you're probably in your vast sea of human consciousness, enjoying the bitterness of your disrupted plans, aren't you?"
He thought he was in control, thinking Hermes was merely trying to reclaim his divine power, incidentally 'helping' him.
Little did he know, Hermes's true goal was, from beginning to end, the complete destruction of the Spear of Divine Retribution!
This murder weapon was forged from the despair and resentment of human wars in another world.
When it exploded with the power of 'hope' in this world, the supreme negative energy belonging to that other world would not vanish into thin air. Instead, it would instantly contaminate this world like splattering ink!
This external despair would spread like a virus, penetrating the collective subconscious of the people in this world, inciting the violence, suspicion, and madness hidden deep within their hearts.
It could be foreseen that in the near future, the entire world would no longer be peaceful. War would become easier to ignite, peace more fragile, trust increasingly weak.
This was, without a doubt, a heavy, suffocating blow to Alaya Noah, who was deeply connected to the fate of humanity!
He would need time to balance this external despair, which would severely constrain his energy and might even distort his nascent will.
More importantly, Hermes had already discerned Alaya Noah's position.
As the collective will of humanity, he naturally stood opposed to the Olympian gods, who regarded mortals as ants.
Hermes speculated that Alaya Noah's original plan was likely to use Alexander and his Spear of Retribution, along with the mad butcher Cratos, to fight the Olympian gods, staging a worthy battle between 'clams'.
When the power of the divine realm was weakened, he, the 'fisherman' representing humanity, could rise on the momentum and perhaps even change the relationship between gods and men, toppling the gods from their altars.
"What a perfect abacus..." Hermes almost applauded his 'foresight'.
"What a pity," he thought with satisfaction, "now the Spear of Retribution is gone."
Alexander had lost his greatest god-slaying support. Faced with the still-mighty Zeus and the entire Olympic system of gods, would he dare to launch an immediate full-scale attack?
Most likely not.
He would need to regroup, find new 'holes', and perhaps even change his strategy.
This meant that the 'Clam Fight' scenario Alaya Noah was waiting for had not even begun, and one of the most important 'clams' was already weakened.
Hermes could even imagine Alaya Noah's chagrin in that invisible, intangible sea of consciousness.
"Want to use me, Hermes, as a stepping stone?" He finally sneered in his heart, straightening the brim of his hat, which still radiated the subtle glow of 'diminished wisdom'.
"The price is very high."