Typhon's brow furrowed, his pupils narrowing, his voice catching for a moment.
"You mean..."
"Such pure authority of sky and sea in your blood—what's there to guess?"
Samael's smile was oddly crooked, his eyes glancing meaningfully at the multicolored pillars of divine power rising from Mount Olympus and linking heaven and earth.
Damn it! A descendant of the God-King! Those Olympus bastards planned this from the start!
Typhon's face darkened as gray-black mist surged around him. He immediately revealed his Titan form, ready to risk injury for a swift, decisive end.
"Wait! Let's talk this through!"
Samael raised a hand at once, his gaze cautious—he clearly had no desire to fight Typhon to the death.
"If you hand them over to me and swear allegiance to the Goddess of Oaths, I'll grant you safety under my protection and bestow upon you supreme glory!"
Suppressing his aura slightly, Typhon issued his final ultimatum.
"In a head-on clash, the three of us together can't beat you."
"But holding you here for a while... that much we can do."
Samael grinned, pointing up at the sky.
"Sorry to break it to you, but before we entered the storm Barrier, Themis had already sent word to Olympus."
"Even if you kill us, do you really think you can escape?"
At that moment, thunder cracked overhead. Silver-white arcs of lightning spread across the sky.
No—Zeus!
Typhon's face twisted. He cast a murderous glare at the three of them, then, without hesitation, dissolved into a storm of black smoke, fleeing with the surging breath of the storm as he burrowed deep into the Abyss.
Whoosh!
As the suffocating aura eased, Athena, who had been at the center of it all, finally exhaled in relief. She slapped Samael's shoulder, her expression both excited and teasing.
"You really managed to bluff him!"
Samael's smile was strained as he pointed toward the lightning web branching across the sky.
"That wasn't a bluff. It's real..."
Did she really think the King of Monsters was so stupid he'd run from just a few words?
"You actually contacted Olympus?"
Athena's face froze, utterly dumbfounded. For a moment, she was caught in complete disarray.
Driving off a wolf with a tiger—fine in theory. But the wolf was gone. What exactly were they supposed to feed this tiger?
Her silver eyes hardened, her chest tightening as she clenched her fists, her knuckles cracking.
"The Olympians are coming—why are you just standing there?"
As the chill set in her heart, a heavy hand clapped her shoulder.
Samael, visibly annoyed, pointed at the ground where Typhon's offspring lay scattered and groaning.
"Go help. Get your team back to the Arima Caverns."
Athena blinked, her expression twisting oddly.
"Didn't you just say Olympus was coming?"
Samael heaved the Hydra onto Teacher Horse's back, using its nine heads like ropes to tie down other monsters. He replied offhandedly.
"Yeah, but what's it to you?"
Noticing the dazed look in his foster daughter's eyes, the ancient serpent shot her a sharp, irritated glance.
"Your Aunt Themis and the Queen of Heaven are close friends. In the name of the Old Gods, she invited Zeus and Hera over as guests. What's the problem?"
"Huh? That works? I thought..."
Athena stared in disbelief, mumbling under her breath.
"Thought what?"
"N-nothing..."
"Nothing? Then get to work! Let me warn you—Zeus is a stallion. If you prance around in front of him and catch his eye, you'll be in for it, and don't expect to come back."
Samael glared at Athena's wandering gaze, tapped her on the head with a huff, and added a threat for good measure.
"Fine, fine, I'll work! No need to be so mean!"
Athena clutched her head, rolled her eyes at Samael, and ran over to the badly wounded Typhon offspring. Mimicking a certain someone's method, she grabbed the Chimera's serpent tail, Ladon's dragon head, and Cerberus's dog head, tying them together in a messy bundle around Teacher Chiron.
Unseen, the corners of the Wisdom Goddess's lips lifted slightly, as if she found some quiet amusement in it.
"Giddy up!"
After hitching the strung-together offspring of Typhon onto Chiron, Athena, caught up in playfulness, patted the centaur teacher's back and called out to drive him forward.
I'm a centaur, not a pack mule! If you need things hauled, can't you find an actual horse?
Chiron's mouth twitched. He opened it as if to speak, then thought better of it. With a helpless sigh, he lowered his head and galloped on, hooves pounding the earth. Bumping and jolting along, he dragged the offspring of Typhon back toward the Arima Caverns.
After all, these students were tough as leather. Being hauled around like this wouldn't even scratch them. It wasn't half as rough as the brawls they got into every day.
Neither Chiron, nor Medusa and Athena following close behind, felt the slightest guilt about it.
Watching the makeshift convoy recede into the distance, Samael, who had stayed behind, let his smile fade. He turned back toward Themis with quiet worry.
"I don't feel at ease. I should stay."
The Goddess of Justice lifted a hand to gently caress Samael's cheek, then lowered her head to press a soft kiss to the ancient serpent's forehead. Her voice was steady, yet tender.
"Trust me, it will be fine. Whether for Metis's sake or with Hera present, Zeus won't dare touch me.
And besides, in my hands I hold not only the scales that weigh right and wrong, but also the sword that upholds justice."
Through the solemn black veil, Samael gazed at her deeply. After a pause, he nodded with grave seriousness and released her shoulder.
"Very well. I'll leave this to you.
If anything happens, send a signal at once. I'll be waiting for you in the cavern tonight.
Don't forget—tonight is a special night."
At last, the ancient serpent cupped Themis's face, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and under the urging of fate's divinity and the authority of time and space, his form dissolved into a streak of light that vanished.
"I promise."
Themis smiled and nodded, watching the glow fade into the distance. Then she turned to the battlefield, strewn with ruin, and flicked the golden scales with a finger. With one hand placed over her heart, she intoned solemnly:
"The calamity recedes, the affliction returns to its source."
From beneath her feet, golden light rippled outward. Her orderly divine power rewound the land as if time itself reversed—craters filled, toxins dissipated, grass and trees sprouted anew.
When at last the devastation was undone, the Goddess of Justice's brow eased. She rose and made her way toward the waterside treehouse.
But as she turned her back to the sun, her shadow grew heavier.
Her warmth and goodwill had long earned her standing among the Old Gods, and friendships with both Rhea and Hera, queens of the old and new pantheons alike.
Her advocacy of equal marriage and her insistence on binding husband and wife through mutual obligations and responsibilities had earned special favor with Hera, guardian of marriage, ever vigilant of her husband's infidelity.
Thus, Themis truly did share a cordial bond with Hera. Yet such ties remained only surface-deep, with little real weight.
To restrain the King of Monsters with it would be no simple feat.
Hopefully, the bargaining chip Samael left behind would be enough to capture the interest of the King of Olympus.