The farce on Mount Olympus drew to a close with Hebe's victory.
Life seemed to return to its usual rhythm. Hebe had initially worried about retaliation from the twin gods, but Apollo and Artemis remained uncharacteristically quiet. Apollo continued to spread his faith of Light in the mortal realm, attempting to further fragment Helios's sovereignty over the Sun, while Artemis descended to the world below to serve her thirty-year exile as agreed.
After observing them for a time and confirming they had no immediate schemes, Hebe felt at ease. She integrated the Godhood of Midwifery and returned to her temple for another period of secluded meditation.
Her reasons were twofold: first, her control over her various godhoods was not yet absolute; second, ever since she had revealed her mature form, her beauty had become a magnet for the male gods. A powerful goddess with First-tier Divine Power was a rare prize; many believed that a union with her would produce exceptionally gifted divine children.
Hebe—or rather, the Goddess of Youth and Ice—was now the most sought-after bachelorette on the mountain. Every time she stepped out, she was met with at least a dozen "chance encounters" or clumsy flirtations. Some of the more reckless gods even contemplated a "marriage by capture," only to be frozen into solid ice sculptures and hurled off the peak.
Tired of the constant harassment, Hebe simply shuttered her doors.
To the immortals, time was a meaningless concept. Decades passed like a white horse galloping past a crevice. During this time, Artemis returned from her exile, but the event that truly set the gods' tongues wagging was another of King Zeus's many indiscretions.
This time, however, it wasn't Hera who caught him. Instead, the illegitimate son in question had snuck onto Mount Olympus himself.
Hermes, the son of Zeus and the Goddess of Wind and Rain, Maia. Though born of two nature deities, he was a god of the "humanities." He possessed innate offices over Commerce, Travel, Thievery, and Animal Husbandry. While these granted him little raw combat power, they endowed him with a cunning and wit that far surpassed his peers.
Barely three days old, he had tracked Zeus's scent to the mountain, stealing a herd of Apollo's divine cattle along the way. When the God of Light came knocking, Hermes used his silver tongue and a newly invented Lyre to charm Apollo so thoroughly that the latter declared them "kindred spirits" and "brothers in all but blood."
The assembly was stunned. Given the pride of the Son of Light, few gods ever earned his respect, let alone such immediate affection. Hermes then used his eloquence to coax Zeus into granting him two artifacts—the Talaria (Flying Shoes) and the Caduceus (Herald's Staff)—and officially replaced Iris as the Herald of the Gods, becoming the King's personal spokesman.
Hera was predictably incandescent with rage, but her fury could not alter the King's decree. Hermes settled onto Olympus, a new fixture in the divine court.
Within the Temple of Youth, the golden-haired goddess sat with her eyes closed, racing against time to comprehend the laws and primordial power within her essence.
Hebe's current Godhood was dominated by the offensive strength of Ice. It resembled a flawless piece of blue crystal radiating an endless chill, yet at its heart lay a swirl of emerald green—warm, pure, and brimming with infinite vitality.
Her future held two paths: she could focus on Youth, Midwifery, Purification, and Healing to become a Sovereign God of Life, or she could cultivate her Ice Godhood to become a Sovereign God of Nature governing the frost.
Either path offered a brilliant future. However, Hebe had no intention of following the conventional routes of Life or Nature. Having lived through the information explosion of her previous life, she harbored several unconventional, even radical, theories. These ideas carried great risk, but if successful, they would allow her to stand above all others.
"I arrived late, and my starting point was low," Hebe mused. "If I had been born a Primordial God, I wouldn't need to strain my brain; I'd just retire in luxury. But I don't have that luck. Conventional growth is too slow, and I lack a sense of security. I might as well bet it all."
There is, after all, a very thin line between a genius and a madman. Hebe suppressed these thoughts for now; it was too early for such grand designs. She immersed herself once more in her cultivation.
"Lady Hebe, a Herald has arrived at the gates. He bears an oracle from the King of Gods."
The sweet, crisp voice of a Nymph servant rang out. It was Agatha.
Iris is here? Hebe wondered.
"Let him in, Agatha."
"Yes, My Lady!" Agatha's face flushed with excitement. To think Lady Hebe remembered her name! Hebe's reputation among the Nymphs was legendary. She was kind, gentle, and a "legendary goddess" who had climbed to the first tier through sheer effort. Many Nymphs were grateful for her work purifying the lands and protecting life during her hunts with Ares. The battle against Artemis had only cemented their adoration.
Agatha cupped her face and sighed happily before fluttering her wings to lead the guest inside.
"My thanks, beautiful Nymph," Hermes said with a smile. As the God of Eloquence and Mediation, he knew exactly how to handle people. Even with a lowly Nymph, his charm was effortless.
"Lord Hermes is too kind," Agatha stammered. The young god still had a touch of boyishness in his face, but his features were undeniably handsome. Under the gaze of his dark blue eyes, Agatha felt her heart racing. She mumbled a few words and fled.
"And you are?" a voice as clear as a mountain spring asked.
Hermes looked up, seeing the goddess who had been the talk of the mountain for the first time. She wore a snow-white Chiton embroidered with golden patterns. Beneath her brilliant gold hair was a face of dreamlike beauty—a mesmerizing contradiction of warmth and icy, distant detachment.
"I am Hermes, son of Maia, and the newly appointed Herald. Greetings, Lady Hebe." Hermes lowered his head to hide his astonishment. "Great Zeus has commanded the assembly of the gods. An oracle has arrived from the Earth Mother."
An oracle from Gaia? That was something that could not be ignored.
The two gods arrived at the Great Hall to find many already present. Hebe noted that everyone in attendance was either a Major God or a First-tier deity. Those below the first tier were clearly not invited to this council.
Once the final gods had arrived, Zeus spoke.
"Fellow gods, I have summoned you because the Great Mother of All Gods has recently issued a Delphic Oracle. We are here to discuss its implications. Prometheus!"
"Yes, Noble King."
A god with wise eyes stepped forward, holding a stone tablet that appeared ancient and plain. However, Hebe could feel the staggering power of the laws pulsating within it.
The Delphic Oracle! It was one of Gaia's most powerful artifacts, inscribed with three divine maxims: "Know Thyself," "Nothing in Excess," and "A Pledge Leads to Pain." These served as the standard for all conduct in the cosmos. While it could record history and predict the future, Gaia often used it as a simple messaging tool—a testament to her peerless status.
Prometheus raised the tablet, and its ancient surface glowed. A voice, both benevolent and majestic, filled the hall.
"Since the Titanomachy, the fires of war have consumed all life, leaving the world in silence. The glory of the gods must be remembered. Go forth, and create life. Let the world be filled once more with vitality and laughter. Let the radiance of the gods shine again."
The voice of a Primordial God carried a weight that demanded submission. Even Zeus could not replicate such an aura.
Creation? Gaia gave the tablet to Prometheus, meaning she wants him to lead this project, Hebe thought.
Prometheus creating Man!
Hebe's eyes sparked. She recalled the legends of Huaxia, where a Great Mother Goddess achieved a supreme "Saint" status simply through the Merit of creating humanity. From then on, no one under the heavens could challenge her.
There had been humans before—the Golden Human Race created by the Titans under Cronus—but they had been wiped out during the war. Now, Prometheus was to recreate the race. Even if the Merit wasn't as great as that of the first generation, it was still a massive opportunity.
If there's Merit involved, I have to fight for it, Hebe decided. Furthermore, she was fascinated by the laws within the Delphic Oracle; any chance to study it would be a huge boon to her own path.
"You have all heard," Zeus said. "The Great Mother wishes us to recreate the human race. I am entrusting this task to Prometheus. However, he requires an assistant to help shape these new beings. Who among you is willing?"
"..."
The gods fell silent. Creating a race was hard, tedious work. Most of these pleasure-seeking deities wanted no part of it; they preferred to stay on the mountain and wait for some "unlucky fool" to take the job. None of them realized the potential benefits. In this world, gods who understood the concept of "Merit" were few and far between.
My chance!
"Great Father, I am willing to assist Lord Prometheus in fulfilling the Earth Mother's oracle," Hebe declared.
"Great Father, I am willing to help Prometheus," another voice rang out simultaneously.
The assembly turned to see two goddesses standing forth: Athena, the renowned Mistress of Wisdom, and Hebe, the rising star and Goddess of Ice and Youth.
The two goddesses locked eyes. For a moment, it felt as though electricity crackled between them. The surrounding gods took a collective step back, still haunted by the memory of the stray arrows from the previous duel. Yet, they felt a secret thrill—Are we going to see another goddess fight?
"This is..." Zeus looked at his two daughters, torn.
Athena was his own brain-child and an exceptionally capable daughter. But Hebe was his and Hera's youngest, and her recent diligence had made him proud. Moreover, if he didn't pick her, he knew his volatile Queen would make his life miserable.
"Prometheus," Zeus said, passing the buck. "Since both goddesses wish to assist you, why don't you make the final choice?"
Prometheus, with his dark green curls and handsome face, let out a silent, bitter smile. Zeus was being clever; no matter whom he picked, he would offend the other.
"Noble Ladies, the creation of humanity is no small matter. Perhaps you could both state your advantages, and we shall decide from there?"
"Very well," Athena said, her eyes bright with confidence. "I am the Goddess of Wisdom and Crafts. I can guide the new race toward civilization and ensure the gods' glory is spread through culture and intellect."
Her godhood glowed with a sacred light, reinforcing her image as a divine educator. Many gods nodded in agreement.
"And you, Lady Hebe?" Prometheus asked. He looked at the golden-haired goddess, and a flicker of something unreadable passed through his wise eyes.
"A race rising from the ashes of war needs a new beginning," Hebe stated. Her Godhood of Midwifery began to glow like the soft morning light, evoking the image of a budding sprout in spring. "They need a deity who can lead them out of the darkness and into the light of life."
"The new humans will need strong bodies to endure the trials of the world. I shall grant the first generation my blessing: until Death claims their souls, they shall remain youthful and strong, free from the ravages of disease and decay." The light of Youth, Purification, and Healing merged around her.
"Furthermore, in the name of the Goddess of Ice, the new race shall be spared the terrors of the blizzard." Her Ice Godhood also pulsed with power.
"..."
The gods were silent. Even Athena's expression soured. Hebe's offices seemed tailor-made for the act of creation! While Athena's guidance was important, for a new life, what was more vital than survival and health? Furthermore, Prometheus himself was a god of wisdom; he could likely handle the intellectual side himself.
Athena was brilliant. She knew she had lost this round. However, the burgeoning War Goddess was gracious in defeat. She relaxed her expression; her goal had only been to spread her faith early. Losing the assistant position merely delayed her plans.
Prometheus smiled faintly. "It seems we have a consensus. Lady Hebe, I look forward to your assistance in the coming days."
"I shall do my best," Hebe nodded. Having once been human, she held a natural affection for the race. Providing them with protection was a task she welcomed.
"Lady Athena," Prometheus added, turning to her. "I will still require your expertise regarding the education and enlightenment of the race once they are born. I hope you will still lend your aid then."
Athena's eyes brightened. "That will be no problem, My Lord."
Hebe had to admire Prometheus's social finesse. In a few sentences, he had secured a helper, avoided making an enemy of the Queen, and even managed to put Athena in his debt. Masterful. Simply masterful.