"You bastard!" Tyrone shoved his followers away in a fit of rage when they tried to help him stand. "Do you know who's behind me? I'm talking about an actual living god, a being a mortal like you could never dream of offending!"
"Mommy, this kid is bullying me, boo-hoo!" Kousuke suddenly whined dramatically as he leaned against Morgan's neck. She chuckled softly and patted his head like a doting mother. Then he turned back toward Tyrone with an infuriating smirk."That's how you sound."
"You—!"
Apollo had told Tyrone to invite the man before him to the Pantheon. But the god hadn't explained much, only that Kousuke was to be treated with proper respect. Maybe the Sun God expected this kind of development, but none of that matters right now.
But who was Tyrone? Ever since learning of his divine heritage a few years ago, his life had changed for the better, or so he believed. He had once thought his father was a deadbeat who abandoned his mother, but it turned out his father was none other than a living god: Apollo, the God of Archery in Greek Mythology.
Although Apollo had treated him little better than a stranger who happened to recognize a colleague in a crowded street, Tyrone still basked in the attention that came with his divine lineage. His followers showered him with gifts almost daily, offerings meant to please their so-called demigod. If he wanted money, he received it. If he wanted a woman, they offered their daughters without hesitation.
Before the big revelation, Tyrone had been living off government welfare and odd jobs. His mother had fallen ill when he was a teenager, leaving him to shoulder the family's burdens alone. He dropped out of school to find work, but no one wanted to hire someone without qualifications. Life had been hard to him, bitter enough to make him question his existence every waking day.
Then, all of a sudden, everything changed. His followers paid his mother's hospital bills and showered him with wealth. He no longer had to lift a finger to solve his problem. He had become a shameless parasite that leeched off Apollo and the followers.
Everywhere he went, people bowed their heads at the mere mention that he was a demigod. If anyone dared to be rude, he killed them with the divine power bestowed upon him. That power had inflated his ego beyond measure, feeding an arrogance he never knew he possessed. 'This is my right,' he thought. 'I was born to take it all!'
Apollo, his divine father whom Tyrone had only met once after learning of his heritage, had later sent him a prophecy in his dreams, it was the task of bringing Kousuke to Greece. Tyrone didn't dare disobey. Losing his demigod status was not an option anymore.
Yet while flying to Turkey, resentment festered. 'Why should a demigod like me act as a messenger for some human?' he thought. He decided he'd at least teach the mortal a lesson for wasting his time. But now, faced with Kousuke's overwhelming strength, that arrogance was crumbling. And to make it worse, the man had a beauty by his side.
Most of the women offered to Tyrone were plain, so he discarded them once he'd had his way. But Morgan, she was like gold found in a mine of copper. And seeing her with Kousuke only deepened his jealousy even further. It was like seeing a beautiful swan hanging around an ugly fish, at least that's what it looks like in his mind.
"I'll kill you!"
Tyrone's body flared with blinding golden light as he lunged toward Kousuke with insane speed. He no longer cared about his mission, he wanted to crush the man who dared humiliate him. And then, he will enjoy tormenting the cold woman till she becomes a begging mess just like the rest of the girls that was offered to him.
"Sigh… this is why I hate anything related to gods." Just as Tyrone's punch was inches from his face, Kousuke vanished and reappeared behind him.
"They all think they're great because weak people worship them, the ego of a chihuahua."
"!!!"
Before Tyrone could even react, a punch slammed into his gut. The impact forced him to his knees as he vomited the wine he'd drunk earlier. His body should've been far sturdier than a normal human, yet it didn't feel like it in front of Kousuke. The overwhelming difference in power forced old memories to resurface at the back of his mind, the scene of a pathetic boy begging for scraps in his desperation for survival.
Slowly, Tyrone struggled back to his feet, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth. Then he noticed his followers just standing there, watching dumbly like statues.
"What the hell are you waiting for?!" he roared. "Attack him!"
They exchanged uncertain glances before rushing at Kousuke all at once, hoping numbers would make a difference. Unfortunately for them, they were charging at a man who had single-handedly defeated a Demon God and his hundred-thousand-strong army.
Kousuke sidestepped effortlessly as a punch missed him by a hair's breadth. He caught the attacker's arm and hurled him into another follower behind him. None of them had real combat experience so within minutes, they were all sprawled across the ground, groaning in pain. He was being lenient to them since they were coerced by Tyrone.
"Standing back while sending your weak lackeys at me?" Kousuke muttered with contempt. "So much for a demigod. Maybe you should change your race to cockroach instead."
Tyrone grit his teeth, trembling with rage. But deep down, he finally understood that the man before him couldn't be beaten that easily, not by him nor by numbers. Only now did he realized why his godfather had warned him to show respect. That overwhelming strength shouldn't be possible in a human.
"You're too kind with your 'praise,' darling~ Even cockroaches would do better than this, those disgusting creatures could survive the nuke after all." Morgan's snicker was cold and mocking. She waved her hand, and the groaning followers vanished in an instant. Then she turned to Tyrone with a chilling smile.
"Now that your little cocksuckers are gone, it's time you faced your punishment for ruining our honeymoon~"
"Don't you dare come any closer!" Tyrone shouted, his voice cracking with fear. He didn't know what she'd done to his disappearing followers, and the unknown terrified him more than seeing Kousuke in action. But Morgan ignored his plea and stepped toward him slowly. Just as he thought death itself was descending upon him, something dropped between them with a heavy thud, leaving a crater in the ground.
It was a beautiful golden bow. But neither Kousuke nor Morgan looked at it, instead they both looked up, already sensing the divine presence that had arrived before the weapon fell.
Apollo floated mid-air, draped in garments worthy of the sun itself. His attire was a flowing chiton of white and pale gold, the fabric light as air and shimmering faintly with every movement. One shoulder was left bare where the cloth crossed diagonally, the other wrapped in a fold of soft peach-gold that caught the light like the dawn sky. Subtle bands of gilded trim traced the edges of his robe—a quiet reminder of his divine grace rather than a boast of it.
Golden cuffs encircled his forearms, polished to a mirror sheen that reflected sunlight as though they carried a fragment of his radiance. Around his brow rested a delicate laurel crown of gold leaves, glinting with quiet brilliance against his sun-touched hair.
The simplicity of his attire spoke of effortless majesty, the kind that needed neither jewels nor armor to command reverence. Every fold and gleam seemed to capture a part of his essence: warmth, light, and an untamed elegance that belonged only to the God of the Sun and Archery. This is the depiction of Apollo from Greek Mythology.