Chapter 119: I Shall Witness the Hero's Glory
Apollo's answer was inevitable, because Rowe was no longer just a man. He also bore the identity of a god.
In Greece, such a thing was not rare. The Olympians walked the world with divine essence, yet wore a human shaped vessel. What truly unsettled Apollo was not the fact that Rowe was divine.
It was the form Rowe displayed.
A machina god of Atlantis.
Not the high dimensional divine core that existed only as concept among the Greek gods, manifesting as light and authority, but an immense mechanical god body that carried weight, structure, and cold inevitability.
"Cronus…" Apollo drew a slow breath, eyes narrowing as understanding clicked into place. "I see. You devoured the body of the Titan King directly."
"In that case, you certainly qualify to participate in this conflict."
His respect sharpened into something even more deferential.
Yet the God of Light did not feel fear. Instead, excitement flickered in him, like a blade catching sunlight.
"Then you and I are enemies."
"The victor of this war will receive the promise of the other gods, gaining the right to speak with divine authority. For the next thousand years, that authority will be second only to Zeus, King of the Gods, across heaven and earth."
"Thus, I will do everything in my power to defeat you."
With that, Apollo turned and departed, leaving only his dazzling afterglow to linger in Olympus like an afterimage.
It had to be said. Apollo was the most normal Greek deity Rowe had met so far.
Aphrodite, on the other hand, finally exhaled as if she had been holding her breath the whole time.
"So you really are a deity. I knew it. How could I attach such importance to a mere mortal?"
She flicked her fiery red hair with arrogant grace, eyes bright with possession rather than fear.
"But even if you are a god, I will make you acknowledge me and kneel at my feet."
Aphrodite also left.
With her went the shadow of Ares, God of War.
Ares was her closest lover and comrade. Standing beside Aphrodite in the Trojan War was his duty, and also the reason Mars, the God of War, left his past shadow here.
That shadow was irrational, self chaotic, and would only fulfill its assigned role. It did not care about Rowe.
It was Mars who had a connection to Rowe, not this Ares shadow.
Hera smiled slightly, her gaze calm and cold.
"A third party joining the Trojan War, facing a total of six primary gods from both sides alone."
"Then I look forward to your performance, God of All Machines."
The Queen's figure vanished.
Hephaestus, troubled expression unchanged, stared after the direction Aphrodite had gone, then withdrew his gaze and followed.
Hestia, wine in hand, considered leaving as well.
Then she froze.
Because Athena stepped forward, slipped into Rowe's arms, and kissed him.
Hestia's mind went blank.
Is my presence too low to register? If I leave now, will I be noticed? That is offers a special kind of embarrassment.
She buried her face and decided she was, spiritually, a wall.
Athena's kiss was not sudden.
She opened her arms and pressed herself into Rowe's embrace. Even through their clothes, her warmth and intent were unmistakable. She rose onto her toes, the movement gentle yet firm, her slender waist shifting as if she had decided that hesitation was beneath her.
They kissed.
Then they separated.
Athena flicked her silver white hair back, ruby eyes half veiled beneath the strands, and smiled at him.
"Then we are also temporary enemies, and I will not show mercy, my only beloved."
"I will prove to you that my current strength is worthy of you."
Capture the other, or be captured by the other.
She was the mistress of war, and a Divine King who had become the head of a miniature pantheon.
Athena had always been stern, sacred, and unwilling to be reduced to anyone's burden.
Even if she chose sacrifice, even if she chose devotion, it would be because Athena willed it, not because she had no other way to stand.
"Wait for it, beloved of wisdom and war."
Leaving those words behind, she departed Olympus.
Like Apollo, Aphrodite, Ares, Hera, and Hephaestus, Athena descended into the mortal world.
Even though they were the orchestrators, the hands moving pieces across the board, they were willing, in the face of Rowe's threat, to step onto the board themselves.
And so, on this day, within Troy, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Ares arrived personally.
Divine light fell upon the defending soldiers, generals, and demigod heroes, sweeping away fatigue and gifting them strength.
And so, on this day, within the allied camp of the Greek city states, Athena wore a crown woven from countless divine authorities and stood upon a high place.
Hera appeared carrying shared thunder and lightning granted by Zeus.
Fire burned, and within it, the shadow of the God of Fire moved, its might flowing wherever flame touched.
The morale of the Greek federation rose sharply.
Yet when people believed the gods had arrived and a world shattering divine war was inevitable, both sides, Troy and Greece, stopped fighting at the same time.
Even the Uruk warriors summoned from the Underworld remained motionless.
They held their positions, shields locked, spears steady, guarding like statues of discipline.
Rowe stood in the heights of Olympus, within the pantheon.
He understood.
Athena's side and Apollo's side were waiting for him to move.
Because of the power he had displayed, the gods were on edge.
But Rowe, after ordering the Uruk warriors to remain still, did not move.
Hestia, still in the corner: "…"
The black haired goddess realized she was trapped in an awkward fate.
If she moved, Rowe would notice she had been there the entire time.
And Rowe's intimacy with Athena clearly was not meant for spectators.
So Hestia discovered she could not leave.
Because Rowe was waiting for something too.
He was waiting for the self termination of the unjust war.
…
"Achilles, what are you thinking about?"
Night.
In the Greek camp, bonfires burned against the darkness. A young man with sharp, spike like pale green hair looked up.
The one who spoke wore heavy armor. The commander of the allied forces, Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, a man of strategy and ambition.
He walked past resting soldiers and sat beside Achilles.
"What are you thinking?"
"Ah, it is you again." Achilles answered, then his face twisted into a familiar arrogance, sharp and restless. "I am just thinking about when I can step onto the battlefield and tear those people apart."
Agamemnon laughed and patted his shoulder.
"Do not worry. You will have your chance soon. Now that Lady Athena and Lady Hera have descended, victory belongs to Greece without a doubt."
"Hmph. I do not care about that kind of thing." Achilles pouted.
Agamemnon knew his temperament and did not mind the arrogance.
Besides, Achilles had the right to be arrogant.
Achilles was the son of Peleus, the demigod hero who completed the Argonauts' adventure and retired successfully, and Thetis, one of the three thousand sea goddesses.
Born a demigod, trained in martial arts from childhood, he mastered god tier spear techniques.
He was the fastest hero among humans.
And as a youth, he had been immersed in the waters of the River Styx, gaining a body as invulnerable as a divine artifact.
Such strength made Achilles the most crucial general in this campaign against Troy, the first to lead the charge.
Agamemnon valued him greatly, and only laughed.
"Rest early. The great battle will begin soon."
He stood, moved past countless bonfires, and disappeared into the vast night of the camp.
Achilles clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes.
Athena's light covered the sky, the radiance of a chief god that mortals could not stare at, yet Achilles felt something was wrong.
Ever since this war began, something had been wrong.
"Why do you still look so troubled?"
Another voice.
Achilles looked up at Patroclus, his childhood friend and fellow demigod hero.
"Did the commander say something?"
"Patroclus." Achilles's voice dropped, the arrogance fading into something sharper and quieter. "What do you think this war represents?"
"It represents aggression," Patroclus answered without hesitation.
Without the excuse of Helen being abducted by Paris of Troy, the declared reason for war was flimsy.
This was an unjust war, a war without legitimate claim.
In the past, Greek heroes would not have cared.
"But if it were my father's generation, they would care," Achilles said suddenly. "They cared about justice and injustice, good and evil, honor and shame. More than that, they cared about what war meant."
"Your father…" Patroclus froze, then understood. "The Argonauts' hero. A man who underwent the Sage's trial and understood the spirit of a hero."
Those heroes would have cared.
Because they had undergone trials, and those who emerged were heroes not only in strength, but in spirit.
If it were a war for their country, even if it was shameful, heroes would naturally flock to it.
But this war was not.
This war was born of human greed and jealousy, and the rivalry of gods. When it ended, nations might gain nothing at all.
"Before I set off, someone prophesied that I would die in this Trojan War," Achilles said, grin returning, wild and bright. "I still came because I would rather live splendidly."
"But is this unjust war truly the splendor I seek?"
"Should my compatriots die in this conflict?"
Should they?
If they were Greek heroes untouched by the Sage's influence, they would not doubt.
But now, they did.
"You think so too, Achilles."
This time, the voice was not Patroclus.
Figures approached through the firelight.
Demigod heroes supporting the Greek alliance.
Soldiers moved aside instinctively, letting them pass.
Some were descendants of the Argonauts.
Others were inspired by those stories.
They knew the tale and the Sage's teachings to the heroes of old.
They felt the same.
"The blood of our compatriots should not be shed like this," they agreed.
"Then let me see how far you can go." Achilles's grin widened again, unbridled. As the strongest hero present, all eyes naturally fell on him.
"Do not worry. We are heroes too."
Odysseus, tall and composed, silver hair flowing, smiled.
"We are all heroes. Even if we must stand against gods, we will still take this step."
"That is right, Achilles."
"You are not the only strong one."
The heroes began to act.
They did not kill a single person.
Instead, they moved to stop the war, a war from which neither nation nor people would ultimately benefit.
Within Troy, a hero also moved.
Hektor, the city's main general.
A man with a short beard who usually looked disheveled, as if he lived only to pass the day.
Yet now he stepped forward.
To stop this war, both the attackers and defenders had to abandon hostility together.
And together, they had to lose the ability to wage war.
Then.
"You are all surrounded by me alone, you know?"
In the night, facing Trojan soldiers approaching from every direction, a man with a foxtail grass stem in his mouth closed one eye and smiled.
A mocking smile, sharp as a blade.
Before the war even began, enemy and ally began to fight among themselves.
Not to slaughter.
But to prevent an unjust war.
At that very moment, Apollo, stationed in Troy, opened his eyes, rage igniting.
"Hektor, do you know what you are doing? You are defying the will of the chief gods."
In Greece, gods and humans coexisted. Some gods were not even stronger than demigods.
But the chief gods were different.
They stood high above. Their will was difficult to defy unless another chief god obstructed it.
Light erupted.
Scorching fire appeared above.
Apollo, Aphrodite, and Ares manifested together, and divine will descended.
At the same time, Hera appeared before the Greek heroes, thunder coiling around her.
Hephaestus silently summoned divine fire.
Athena was startled, yet she did not move.
Heroes confronted gods.
For the first time.
It should have been impossible.
But.
"So called heroes are precisely those who create miracles and overcome the impossible." Achilles laughed aloud, fearless.
"Ah, I am scared," Hektor grinned, "but I still cannot let this war continue. I am the Prince of Troy. Was this war not inexplicable from the start?"
Different heroes, in different places, made the same gesture.
They raised their spears and pointed them at the gods.
Greek heroes were chosen by the gods. They lived under divine shadow.
Now, spears aimed upward, and the shadows in their hearts were brushed away.
The heroes of the past were heroes chosen by gods.
Now, they would become heroes of humanity.
Heroes who upheld their own will.
That will was enough to crush fear.
"The altered spirit of the Argonauts…" Apollo lifted his gaze, speaking as if he had finally seen the thread. "So this is your reliance. The reason you dared to confront the gods alone."
Hera let out a long breath.
Above the dome of the sky, the enormous machina god began to descend.
Rowe finally stepped out from Olympus and appeared here.
Of course, it was only stepping through a door.
The entrance to Olympus lay above the Caucasus Mountains, yet Olympus itself was a higher dimensional space, not unlike the Celestial Realm of Mesopotamia.
One step forward was the present world.
He had not truly left Olympus, but he could still stand before everyone.
His steel forged divine body gleamed under moonlight.
His outstretched wings trailed crimson wind and fire.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
His existence was the miracle created by heroes.
"I stand here to witness the meritorious deeds of your courage."
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The Uruk army raised spears and shields as one and stepped forward.
The heroes burst into laughter.
To confront many chief gods alone?
No.
Even setting aside Uruk's soldiers, Rowe was never alone.
Because he also had heroes.
True heroes, belonging to humanity.
<><><><><>
[Check Out My Patreon For +40 Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[Join Our Discord Community For Updates & Events]
[https://discord.gg/MntqcdpRZ9]