Hi, there! Here's one of the chapters fully focused on the perspective of another character, with none of the usual protagonists making an appearance. The format of this one means it spans over several years alongside the previous chapters, and naturally is not up-to-date with the last one. You can also categorize this as a spin-off, though the following chapter after this should be the next part of Perseus & Andromeda's adventures - so maybe you guys can call that the same, too.
Not gonna' speak too long in this AN - remember, review, follow, and favorite!
Some mails:
Anon A: I've never been thanked for giving someone a lifelong, debilitating illness... so, thanks? Ah, are you typing from a phone, given the amount of typos in this review? In any case, it's a planned and decently-applied step in Alaya's character development, so I'm happy you liked it.
PanzerJ: Well, what's next is this chapter, which is a bit of a fleshing-out of a side character...
Questoris: Yes, that's the implication I've been going with since HV-S01: RKR.
AvidGamer: Thank you for the review in any case. I realized this might be the case for other people, but you're actually the first one to provide me with a constructive criticism at this level. Hopefully you can still enjoy my other works, either the already-written one (which I consider inferior to HV-S02: QGF anyway) or in the near future (which hopefully is better).
samuelcaldeira76: Yeah, it's obviously different than the original myth. Additionally, TYPE-MOON's origins for the Olympians and their descendants are sketchy anyways, so I'm taking advantage on that. Regardless, this is fanfiction. For the explanation, here's a summary from the latter chapters: The Gorgon sisters were born from the prayers, wishes, and dreams of humanity. I assigned Athena to be the one to collate, manage, and eventually 'birth' them out like how a programmer would to an app. That's where the 'mother & daughter' terminology comes from.
AlternateReality: It's a mix of various things: (1) The knowledge Perseus isn't particularly a good person in his young age. (2) The fact he shirked his responsibility to gather more information regarding his target. Remember, an adventurer is a proper job with responsibilities in this story. (3) SHIROU isn't perfect, as much as he'd like himself to be. I think there's some subtle indications I've put into the earlier chapters. Were they too subtle?
"The fire fades… and you, Unkindled, will rise.
"Nameless, accursed… unfit to even be cinder.
"And so it is, that ash seeketh embers."
Since he was small, these three lines always accompanied every second of his life. Every breath, every step, every action he took was burdened by these… curses, to be frank.
Many assumed receiving attention from the Μοῖραι – the Sisters of Fate – was a glorious calling. That one would become great, because why would the three siblings waste time and energy especially foretelling the fortune of an individual? When not even kings and monarchs were graced by their presence, any peasant receiving an oracle straight from these women should be grateful, no matter what the contents of it was.
After all, in their puny and irrelevant life, how precious could a spark of excitement be?
Very. That's the answer.
But Meleager disagreed. Perhaps just like most other children who're too scared to say that outright… thus, he's the same.
"He will live only as long as this brand remains unconsumed," Atropos said long ago, when she arrived at the Calydon's royal chambers and declared as she laid eyes on the brand burning at the family hearth.
Unlike her two sisters, who sung him great prophecies, the youngest sister always held the Authority of [Death] – a thing she shared with her compatriot Thanatos; though in what manners, no one knew exactly. Therefore, her presence would always mark the decline and eventual demise of any entity, either individuals or as a whole group. Knowing this, Meleager's mother, Althaea leapt out of bed and grabbed the still-burning piece with her bare hands and buried it in a secret location in the palace, so it should never be touched by another tongue of heat ever.
When he was first told this story, it wasn't fear which consumed him, as did most powerful men in Greece. Instead, overflowing adoration and love of his mother came forth, giving birth to the determination of making her the happiest women in the world, served by the greatest son in existence.
Oh, how young lips were often quick to boast, but late to regret.
Regardless, it's not boasting when he considered himself to be the most beloved of all of his siblings, no matter their achievements. Since he was small, his mother pampered him as if he's the actual son of Ares – which wasn't technically wrong, because the God of [War]'s spirit inhabited his father the night of his consummation. While he never let this got to his head, his siblings became distant to him, though their relationships remained civil throughout their childhood.
As they grew up, there was no place in Calydon's royal court for this many princes and princess; thus, they broke up and turned professional, utilizing some measure of their background to lay the foundation of their new occupations.
He himself became an adventurer, after it's clear only Thoas, his brother, was favored for the throne. Not that he minded what his father thought – it's his mother who occupied the central position in his brain.
Like many, he began at the Adventurers' Guild from the bottom.
It's one of the organizations in Greece where… well, plainly, they didn't care for anyone's background and bullshit. Even royalties like him had to start from where their abilities were evaluated, and not their heritage.
He was granted the D-Rank after his induction exam, allowing him to take on requests he felt fit with his talents more. However, what the Guild did allow anyone to use their own advantages was… money. Plain and simple. If an E-Ranker decided to use their sizeable family inheritance to buy a set of armor more suitable for an A-Ranker to use, then it's their right to do so – so long as the money was legitimately acquired without the need of recompense.
For Meleager, it was his position instead. He went immediately for the royal armory and took out a set of nameless shining armor he had eyes on for a long time. It's an anonymous Mystic Code, being so simply because the armorer died before he could properly name the entire thing. What he did finish was the enchantments – basically the whole armor – and thus it's very functional. Its unpopularity stemmed from the need of its wearer to train in this armor, which despite its enchantments wasn't particularly mobile or light.
Greek soldiers preferred partial armors for ease of use. After all, what's the need to cover one's entire body when potions and Reinforcement Magecraft were aplenty? All they had to do was cover the vital parts and concentrate on agility and outright speed, because even without Thaumaturgy, the adrenaline flowing in their body during combat was generally enough to allow them to function well after receiving sizeable wounds.
However, Meleager's mother was so worried of her son's well-being that she insisted on him practicing with this full set of armor, which had various curse enchantments on it to lessen the prophecy made by Atropos. Oh, she had no illusions it could completely nullify the youngest Sister of Fate's words – very, very little could – but, at the very least, it'd be able to buy her time to safeguard the burning timber linked to Meleager's life and put out anything consuming it, just like the day he was born.
Therefore, this was the final gift his mother could've arranged for him. Despite having her husband's favor, she knew he had to spread his attention equally among his wives and children, and couldn't tyrannically rob the treasury just to protect her son.
Calydon was a small kingdom, famed for the domesticated wild boars it exported to other city-states. Prized for its rich marbled meat and sturdy bones, they're often requested to become the centerpieces of banquets or prime divine sacrificial objects. Naturally, to rear such high-quality produce, Calydon's agricultural department was also top notch, though it couldn't compete with larger producers in terms of volume. Therefore, it mostly focused its natural resources on self-sustenance, with their boars being the main export item, among a few others.
Their current king, Oeneus, was an expert vintner, whose wine creations were rumored to have been taught by Dionysius himself. Unfortunately, due to Calydon's small size, there's no land could be spared for a large-scale wine production, numerous enough to sell to other city-states – therefore, his concoctions were only used in private gatherings and state tributes, among others.
Meleager wasn't feeling the family business. Simple as that. Therefore, he became an adventurer, despite her mother's wishes.
She feared people he offended would be able to catch wind of Atropos's prophecy and harmed him. He simply retorted of how those people would only increase in size if he took on the mantle of prince. At the very least, as an adventurer, he could pick and choose who he dared to offend, instead of having to worry and look over his shoulders every day for any assailants who he might not have offended personally.
Let his brothers and sisters wield that responsibility. He'd become his own man and take care of his mother through his own way, no matter how hypocritical it might've looked to outsiders.
However, never once did Atropos's words left his mind. If any, it burdened him even more as he grew up.
What would become of his mother if he perished? There were already rumors spreading she's the reason the Μοῖραι declared his fate to be such, and true or not, it lowered her mother's standings among her fellow wives and mistresses. While Meleager admired his father for never falling for this accusation and treated them all the same, the worry gnawed on him the more he understood politics – and the backstabbing which always came with it.
His father might not take any action regarding this matter. It didn't mean others wouldn't.
Additionally, what complicated matters more was… He fell in love.
Beauty was objective. What a man or woman think of one another was completely up to them.
Someone who's hailed as a 'peerless beauty' – male or female – would always garner controversy, with the most casual admirers comparing them with someone else they preferred. There was no objectivity to it, as even the most heartless beings would judge other based on differing standards, because no one individual developed the same manner with each other.
For Meleager, this was Atalanta.
They registered with the Adventurers' Guild on the same day, standing in line for the same receptionist, himself behind her.
He liked to romanticize how the Μοῖραι had blessed him that day, as much as they cursed him on the day he was born. Perhaps it was only fantasy, but he distinctly remembered how she smelled of a cacophony of forest creatures, both flora and fauna, walking along with a predatory stance – ready to fight at every opportunity like a ferocious beast.
At that time, he wasn't able to even see her face, yet he'd decided in his heart this was the one.
That day, he completely forgot about the first rule his mother had warned him about when he set off to work as an adventurer: Don't fall in love easily.
Despite his now-strained relationship with the royal palace, he was still a prince, after all. Also, as his siblings matured, their relationship did mend somewhat, as they now periodically met up and had fun together – an idea cast as foolish a few years ago. They're now part of the workforce anyway; no need to play the royal politics game anymore, because doing so would just hinder each of their futures. Of course, eventually, all of them would settle down and have a family…
…but certainly not on the very first day they left the royal palace.
And that's exactly what he'd done.
He regretted none of it.
They were young, he and Atalanta. After acquiring his armor, he approached her to work as a party, and to his glee, she gruffly accepted. Even her rough manner of speaking and violent mood swings were seen as 'character', because in his eyes, she had no flaw.
Perfect, in every way.
"I hail from the forest," she claimed in one of their first conversations as a team.
He wished he could etch those bewitching words on his back forever.
His current self would view the 'him' at the time to be disgustingly corny, stupidly love-struck and embarrassing… before having the desire to do the exact same thing.
How times changed people… and sometimes, it didn't. Utter failure.
Even until now… when she already belonged to someone else.
Those precious first few months were paradise to him.
They both received a similar evaluation during their entrance exams to the Guild, and occasionally took on higher-levelled quests from the bulletin board. Because they're viewed as talented individuals, the Guild didn't raise too much of a fuss unless they went over their heads and took on B- or A-Ranked tasks, which was clearly not meant for rookies.
Even the current S-Rankers didn't do that, so what chance would they have?
Calydon wasn't flooded in wealth, and thus its royalty, too, had experience in working in rough conditions, so the types of duties weren't too surprising for Meleager. However, the intensity was naturally much more than the ones his parents and retainers allowed him to do, because now they're actually responsible for other people's livelihoods. There's no chance to mess up – disregarding the fact no one would be there to over his mistakes – because there were chances for innocents to get hurt or die.
What surprised him was certainly how capable Atalanta was.
He tried his best to avoid his personal views clouding his judgement, regarding genders, but he knew no woman as powerful as the huntress was. Those he saw always had a squeamish face whenever the issue of corpses or trash was discussed, and a frightened shiver if he spoke to them about things pertaining to violence: wars, duels, beast infestations, and so on.
She didn't care much for those things, saying, "If you have time to be surprised, put those hands to work instead!"
Originally, he attributed this attitude towards her upbringing, sparse as he knew of it from her succinct explanations. Compared to his palatial childhood, certainly, hearing a young girl was living all by herself in the wild forests earned his admiration, for he realized he'd never be able to stand experiencing the same livelihood.
If his love-muddled brain was working at that time, he would've realized it's borderline impossible for an actual young woman to have such a refined beauty – though that's objectively relative – especially one who proclaimed to have been a professional hunter. Usually, no matter how natural one's attractiveness was, environment would've taken its heavy toll, such as uneven tanning of the skin, infected small scratches becoming permanent scars, roughening and thickening of soft tissues, cracked lips or split hairs, etc.
Of course, his mind simply rationalized this to how special and divine this woman was. A beauty untouched by both nature and nurture? Surely, she's one of a kind!
Though he berated himself for being disrespectful, he sneakily took glances to her rear and chest, however slim they were, whenever they shook in front of him. Her active movements meant her guard was occasionally low – or she simply didn't care – meaning a feast to his eyes.
Or, perhaps… even better – despite her callous demeanor, was she secretly seducing him? Didn't it meant she liked him too?
Watching her stalking a prey during one of their quests – one to hunt down errant goblins – he let this thought permeate his mind, though he's careful not to let his delusions overwhelmed his entirety. It's something forbidden to assume, and a must to physically confirm – and it's certainly not something one should think about during work.
No matter how weak goblins were, there's nothing such as being too careful.
As always, though, he didn't even have the chance to show off in front of her, because every goblin's head in view suddenly evaporated in fireworks of blood by every strum of her great bow.
Normally, the less intelligent a being was, the universe would compensate them with greater senses. Goblins were no exception, with sensitivity far beyond those of a normal human. However, being picked off from 5 miles away certainly wasn't part of the universe's design, and thus they were soon exterminated before Meleager and several others could even cross half-distance from their scouting base. All that's left to do was clean-up and gathering the necessary items, as well as on-scene therapy for those directly involved with the antagonists.
The others in their party was unhappy. Despite Guild rules being mostly fair in regards of monetary rewards, her kills quickly overwhelmed their own – and, as a result, her reputation, too. When they confronted her about this, disregarding Meleager's love-struck defense, she merely stated, "Then you all should just get stronger than me."
Arrogant? Cold? Yes… but he didn't care.
Party members came and went, mostly turned off by her attitude. However, only he stood by her side through various quests and rank-up exams, right up until they reached B-Rank.
Only then did he realize how little worth he was in her eyes.
Ever since Atropos uttered those words, he was often visited by a figure in his sleep.
At first, there was no other form of communication between the two of them other than a visual one. He couldn't speak, hear, touch, or even move in that space… and neither could the other figure. What he could make of was sparse at the beginning, far worse than seeing through fog, because all there had been was the sensation of someone there. Gradually, after a long period of time, the image became clearer, though Meleager was no closer to initiating the first conversation between the two.
He wasn't even sure he was apparent to the other person.
However, close to his coming-of-age party, shortly before he was to leave the royal palace, the other figure finally made themselves very clear. Or, as he'd explained before, he had made himself known to the other person.
They were tall. Around Herakles's height – or what Meleager had heard of from stories of the S-Ranker – but very lean, enough to appreciate the craftsmanship of the full-body armor they're wearing. Androgynous, but certainly dangerous, as attested by the smoldering embers constantly shifting around and surrounding its entire form.
The metallic figure was shabby… yet also majestic at the same time, as if the marks and defects of the armor were war trophies, gained after a long and arduous struggle, and having attained peace for those they cared about. There's no doubt the latter's impression on it was what Meleager was feeling right now: awe, gratitude, worship…
It's only then he snapped out of it and lightly freaked out.
He was seeing a god.
Or goddess – it's a figure of speech.
However, nothing ever came out of it. The next few appearances were the same – of him staring at the powerful figure, and it not doing anything in particular. They're not even obviously aware Meleager was there, despite the stories telling him this manifestation should've been a two-way street.
Did he had a precognitive ability he didn't know about? To dream of things completely incognito from the deities themselves?
Yeah, right.
It's likely someone was playing with him, which wasn't a pleasing thought. Still, he could count himself fortunate – once he's awake – nothing negative ever came out of it. There were plenty of examples when visions like this easily drove mortals crazy with knowledge… literally, to the point of self-harm or, worse, harming others.
From this, he could assume this phenomenon was accidental, likely a passive effect of something bigger going on.
Naturally, he kept this to himself. It's easy to do so, since it's not a nightmare making him wake up screaming and trashing like most others. Not even cold sweat was present – as he felt before, this deity should've been benevolent, inspiring confidence in him the more time they 'spent together'. He didn't even mention this to Atalanta, who at this point knew more about him than she would've liked or cared about.
Not that he knew of her feelings, but it's the imagination which counted.
Also unknown to him was he was this close to having his head sniped at various unguarded moments, courtesy of the girl he's so obsessed with.
Therefore, those first few moments as an adventurer was filled with him living inside his own head, with his body following suit.
To him, it's another proof this deity was protecting him, somehow, after he recomposed himself when he got older. To survive those perilous times with nary a scratch, and with very little recollection of what he'd done, must be divine intervention!
That full suit of armor – coincidentally, the same choice he made, which made him happy – was different than any of the descriptions regarding Greece's pantheon deities, both present and past. This, too, excited him, for the chance of learning something new from another culture… and possibly gain strength not limited to the Olympians' meddling.
What would he use that on, if that's real?
He heard Atalanta was Artemis's most prized priestess, and had taken a vow of celibacy as a result. Perhaps, with this being's help – if he could get it, and that's a big if – he could persuade the Goddess of [Hunt] to betroth Atalanta to him?
Big, fanciful thought, that one. But divine intervention was precisely the cure it needed.
The rumor came out of nowhere.
Most rookie adventurers had their internal mentors from the Guild. This could range from a professional appointed by it to supervise a large group of people, to personal connections with veterans – either built before or after they joined the Guild. For example, Meleager received the former, while some of his party members had the latter. As the 'forsaken' prince of Calydon, he didn't have friendships with influential people in the right places, and had to rely on the kindness of the Guild – and random luck – to get by.
What those seniors handled most often was the mentality of adventurers, who had to be incredibly morally balanced and tough. They're not paid mercenaries without conscience, ready to do literally everything for a piece of gold, but neither were they charitable people who were willing to sacrifice it all for no reward whatsoever. Aside from this, there were plenty who weren't used to the physical exertion necessary to become an adventurer, despite plenty of preparations, so these helpers assisted them during their nascent period.
Atalanta had Jason of Iolchos. An A-Ranker.
As soon as that news circulated among his peers, questions were instantly raised. Was she his student? His relative? Or… his mistress?
No matter how unlikely the latest option was, due to the other rumor concerning her pact with Artemis, either one of the three – or even other explanations – had a good chance to be correct. Or even all of them.
Still, his mind always told him, "It's just a rumor!"
Thus, the suspicions got submerged deep in his subconscious, all because he truly wished them all to be wrong.
Even if the two didn't have a romantic relationship right now, what were the chances of it not happening in the future? Disregarding appearances, any A-Ranker was highly sought-after by the opposite sex – and even several members of the same one – due to the appeal of fame and fortune. People might deny it and speak out idealistic things, but deep down, those attributes held great sway in their hearts, whether they'd admit it or not.
And Jason wasn't exactly ugly, either.
Unbeknownst to him, this was a sentiment shared by most people for… most other people in this era. Due to higher Conceptual Weight, everyone right now would appear more attractive – subjectively, of course – to those in the modern age. It might not even be their physical appearance, but more regarding the intangibles: the 'aura', 'feel', 'sense', and so on. This attraction of course could be positive or negative, with Meleager's own fears of going mad with knowledge of something from a previous era being a good example of the latter, bordering on fanaticism and zealotry.
Meleager felt he's above average in terms of looks. How could he not? No matter how one sliced it, selective breeding and 'natural' selection would always pair the best of an area together to create a better offspring. This was especially the case with rulers, who often had the pick of several people of the other sex to procreate with – those they found to be appealing to their subjective eyes. Thus, those born from royalty were usually better-looking and -bred than those not, though there's always exceptions. This didn't necessary show on shallow physical looks, and like the aforementioned case, royalties had certain 'intangibles' which genuinely emotionally attracted those of the opposite sex.
And this wasn't even mentioning riches. Factoring that in, there's no wonder those who had troubles in life would gladly surrender themselves to royalty just to have a comfortable life. A scene where they wouldn't starve, die of heat and cold, while occasionally accompanied by an attractive individual? How could no one dislike that?
However, when compared to Jason… what advantages did he have?
Looks… were subjective. Of course he'd feel confident of himself, but was he confident Atalanta felt the same way? Both of them had shunned off their royal inheritance, but even without this act, Iolchos was more powerful than Calydon anyway – and this factor might've been a negative stigma Jason had to shoulder heroically every day, considering his relationship with Pelias. Riches? Personally, the redhead had amassed so much he was considered his own force in Greece through his adventures, to the point not even the Guild dared to touch him on anything borderline unscrupulous he did.
What could he do if Atalanta slipped away from his hands?
He… would be left with nothing.
No titles. No fame. No riches. No nobility. He'd abandoned them all to reach this point – for good cause at the time – and yet… he wouldn't be rewarded with anything?! At all?
Over the years, Atalanta grew more distant, giving more credence to the rumors.
What dealt the final blow was the scene he witnessed accidentally, when Jason returned from an expedition to Sarpedon recently. Atalanta was there, waiting eagerly in the port like an expectant wife, before promptly throwing herself into the S-Ranker's embrace.
Meanwhile, Meleager was organizing some work at the port, and viewed the scene from a high vantage point.
That was the first time he felt his heart stopping in its march. Not when he was ambushed by numerous vile beasts. Not when he's taking care of vicious bandits. Not when he saw Atalanta's first smiling in front of him…
…because the smile she's displaying then was an expression he'd never seen her make. Her ears and tail, both of which she religiously kept under disguise almost at all times, were out in full public display, as if Jason was the only one who mattered to her at the moment.
And she showed it only to Jason. Not him.
The Atalanta who refused to allow Meleager, and other long-serving party members, to touch her even accidentally, was happily snuggling away into Jason's chest.
Perhaps his teammates had known this all along, and perhaps they'd told him numerous times to give up already. But his stubborn self refused to listen, and simply erased those advices – all of which he considered 'bad influence' – from his memory. There's no sense in acting upon suspicions without the proof.
Because without proof, he still had hope.
Until that, too, was destroyed right in front of his eyes.
His former party members' words soon followed, flowing out of their hiding hole like a flood.
- Thud.
Everyone else in the Guild's cafeteria subtly shifted away when Meleager not-quite-slammed his alcoholic beverage down.
Not every Guild branch had an in-built cafeteria, purely because of the cost-and-profit ratio in operating it. Naturally, the main branch in Mycenae had the best facilities and taste, as did several large branches such as Athens, Sparta, Thebes, and so on. Though Chiron purposefully designed them to minimize luxury – they're not a restaurant, after all – and focused on taste, size, and price, it's still a popular hangout place for even non-adventurers who're simply seeking a hearty meal.
Its popularity meant the latter often queued up on one of the Guild branch's sidewalls, because proper adventurers always had priority. Show the main reception or the cafeteria workers one's credentials, and usually, those adventurers were shuffled in before the already-waiting regular people. Fortunately, the larger branches also had more staffs to prevent any dissatisfaction or injustice from breaking out too far.
The people understood this, and normally came in at off-periods when the adventurers were usually out taking requests, such as a late brunch or early dinner. After all, these buildings were dedicated to those who used their livelihoods to improve the common folks', risking their health and lives almost daily. Such a minor inconvenience wasn't worth being fussed about.
Right now, it's bustling with activity a few hours after sunset… but also considerably quieter than usual.
The reason was the brooding man near the center of the room.
Meleager might be 'merely' a B-Ranked adventurer, but that's a status most people wouldn't even dream of accomplishing – such was the inherent difficulty of simply surviving this long to achieve such rank – and incidentally made him one of the most senior members in the building right now.
The cafeteria ran both buffet and ala-carte, with the former usually the most rambunctious, given the standing nature and communal style of serving. However, right now, they're trying their hardest not to make any unnecessary sounds… or even eye contact, as their extensive experience in barfights across similar establishments in Greece taught them. There's no advantage to be gained in provoking a clearly not-sober and nonsensical person, especially one as influential as Meleager was.
This was also the reason why Atalanta and Jason got away with so much, especially in the Guild's territory, simply because of their international sway of the people there. They didn't rise to their current ranks without making some friends at high places.
…alright, for Atalanta, perhaps the singular form of 'friend' was sufficient. But Jason was certainly as popular as his rank suggested, though he's becoming more withdrawn lately due to the increase of quests he's undertaking.
Both facts Meleager could care less of right now.
His meal laid half-untouched, with his mind clearly not in place to enjoy his meal. The people around him silently conversed with their eyes and occasional whispers, having known the reason of his current mood far earlier than the man himself did.
After all, even with Jason's side being quite tight-lipped, there's always certainly those who'd gossip – people who were taken in to do menial work, saw some things they didn't understand, and blabbered to others who did… who also made the rumor mill spiral out of control with their exaggerated storytelling styles.
Adventurers had their own manners of gathering information separate from the Guild. Even if the rookies couldn't be counted on this department, as they worked on through the years, they would've built up their own personal network – small or large – and became well-connected to some degree. It became more precise when different networks from different adventurers were cross-referenced together whenever they met up, either to form a party or a social call, so they could separate what's fact, a genuinely legit hypothesis, or a simple rumor.
However, how they acted upon those findings was completely up to them, as usual. For example, those who didn't exercise prudence like Meleager would eventually be blindsided, while those who overthought things like Chiron would end up suffering internally.
And this wasn't even accounting those individuals who're able to manipulate information and public opinions like pawns in between their fingers. The public and most people didn't know this, but Jason was certainly one of them. While this was the belief of most of information department heads in various kingdoms and city-states, no one dared to act upon it, for fear of receiving retaliation.
Defenses? Traps? What use were they if the assailant could just blow them all into smithereens with one strike?
This was the level S-Rankers were required to wield such a heavy responsibility.
The unspoken underlying tone of the creation of the Adventurers' Guild was to keep the deities in check, whether they're Olympians or someone else. To rely on the strength of humanity, instead of solely being slaves to divine figures – that's how humanity would improve.
Naturally, those directly involved in this vision had different ideas on how to go on with it, but far before Meleager's and his audiences' thoughts could go there, a shocking scene occurred.
- Srrt.
Someone actually sat down in front of Meleager and directly stared into him, challenging him to start up the conversation.
"Fuck off."
Obviously, that's all the warning they're going to get from him, before he resorted to lethal violence.
He hadn't even gotten to sorting his feelings in order yet, so how was he going to be able to deal with someone else?
"Make me."
The entire surroundings went deathly quiet, eyeing the small figure creating this scene.
Finally, after several long seconds, Meleager shifted his attention from his beverage… only to be greeted by the sight of an absolute female bombshell.
The thick robes covering her body couldn't hide how voluptuous her breasts and hips were, to the point he suspected those couldn't be natural. Long, wavy black hair – a rarity in these parts, since most people's dark hairs were sun-bleached – and a mesmerizing set of eyes. A sultry smile would've sent any mortals reeling to take off their clothes, regardless of gender, while a sweet-smelling scent emanated from her body.
Clearly not an adventurer.
How did she get in? Who was she? Where did she come from? What did she want?
And, most importantly… why Meleager?
"Not going to do anything?" The gorgeous woman wiggled her eyebrows, clearly satisfied she won the verbal argument. "Well, I happened to have heard of your predicament…"
"You shut your mouth."
Ars Notoria quietly blinked, not expecting this weak-willed human in front of her to reply like so. However, she soon finished analyzing the heart waves coming of the man, and sighed internally towards her own mistake.
Her words could directly be interpreted as a direct challenge against Jason, one of the S-Rankers, spoken inside the Adventurers' Guild in front of so many witnesses. Even if she had the ability to manipulate the memories of everyone here, she's not confident in truly erasing all traces, because of her premature activation against Pandora's original plans. It's riskier when considering the associated parties would be the one to investigate – even Herakles would be able to sniff her out, with his lack of talent in proper criminology of the era.
It's credit to this young man he was able to foresee this problem and stopped her, while still talking somewhat in-character. This was the reason of her instant irritation – the fact a feeble human outperformed her in one task, however minor.
'They should've stayed as slaves and pets…'
To her, who came from the 'original human', the species surrounding her right now were copies so inferior they're actually an insult to her 'mother'. Pandora was perfect in every way, surpassing her creators – surely, that's the reason why Zeus and Hephaestus shunned her with such a curse!
With this plan in motion, though, humanity itself would return to its roots.
To Pandora's Box, back where it all began.
She smiled, and began her sales pitch once again to the heartbroken man.