Yes.
These statues were once the brave "heroes" who ventured to the island, intent on slaying the so-called monster for glory.
But their fates were sealed, each one turned to stone under the gaze of Medusa's mystic eyes.
As she spoke of this, Medusa's voice was heavy with sorrow. It was clear that these acts weighed heavily on her heart.
From this, it was evident that, deep down, she was a kind soul.
To her words, Alaric responded with a simple, "Mm."
His understated reaction caught Medusa off guard.
"You don't seem surprised," she remarked.
"I never judge what I don't fully understand," Alaric replied, shrugging as he glanced at the woman beside him. "So, Miss Medusa, would you share your story with me?"
"…It's just the pitiful fate of an unfortunate woman," Medusa said after a moment's hesitation, her voice tinged with reluctance. "But if you truly want to hear it, I'll tell you."
And so, in her cold yet melodious voice, Medusa began to recount her tale.
It was, in a way, one of the rare dark stains on the legacy of Athena, the goddess so beloved and revered by later generations of humanity.
The root of it all was a woman's jealousy.
And, of course, an ancient grudge.
The conflict traced back to the city of Athens.
Both Athena and Poseidon, the sea god, had vied to become its patron deity. Athena emerged victorious, and the city was named in her honor.
But this victory sowed the seeds of a bitter rivalry between her and Poseidon.
As fellow Olympians, their power was evenly matched, and their familial ties, uncle and niece, prevented outright conflict.
After all, as immortal beings, even the fiercest battles among gods rarely yielded decisive outcomes.
So, their feud played out through subtler means.
Petty slights. Covert provocations.
Today, your followers might strike at mine; tomorrow, my priests would sabotage yours.
It was a game of divine chess, with gods as players and mortals as pieces, never stepping onto the board themselves.
And Medusa's tragedy was born from this very game.
The three Gorgon sisters were descendants of the ancient sea god Pontus.
Though Pontus had been supplanted by Poseidon, tensions lingered between them.
Yet, whether to avoid overly antagonizing Pontus or simply because they had nowhere else to turn, the descendants of Pontus, and even those of another primordial sea god, Oceanus, often served under Poseidon's command.
He, in turn, was content to use these heirs of older sea gods to maintain his dominion over the oceans and rivers.
To many, the descendants of these ancient deities were seen as aligned with Poseidon.
On the eve of one of Athena's birthdays, it was said that Poseidon had prepared a lavish gift for her, a gesture of reconciliation.
But when the day arrived, Poseidon instead bestowed that grand gift upon Medusa, giving Athena only a modest token.
He claimed he was swayed by Medusa's beauty, implying that Athena, goddess of wisdom and war, paled in comparison to a mere demi-goddess.
It was a deliberate slight, a jab to settle old scores from the Athens dispute.
Athena, who prided herself on her beauty, could not let such an insult stand.
In myth, she was known to have sparked the Trojan War in retaliation for Paris of Troy naming Aphrodite the fairest goddess.
A slight to her beauty was a wound she could not ignore.
As a major Olympian, she couldn't directly confront Poseidon.
So, she turned her wrath on Medusa, whom she saw as Poseidon's accomplice.
As the goddess of wisdom, Athena's vengeance was anything but crude.
After studying Medusa, she learned that, though a descendant of gods, Medusa was an "incomplete goddess," still in the process of growing into her divinity.
Athena also discerned a hidden trait within her, the latent power of the mystic eyes.
Using her divine cunning, Athena ensured Medusa could never fully ascend to godhood.
She awakened the demonic power of Medusa's mystic eyes, forcing them to manifest, and then banished her to this "Shapeless Isle."
Stheno and Euryale, Medusa's devoted sisters, followed their younger sibling into exile.
Worse still, Athena spread word among her followers that the Gorgon sisters were monstrous creatures.
In the Type-Moon world, true gods could exist without human faith, unaffected by mortal beliefs.
But for a demi-goddess like Medusa, an "incomplete god" striving to ascend, human faith was vital. At the very least, she could not endure being vilified.
Once revered as a native deity, Medusa was now slandered as a demon, a monster.
This curse and distortion stripped her of the potential to become a true goddess.
And so, "heroes" began arriving on the island, driven by tales of a monstrous threat to vanquish.
Had Athena acted directly, a god like Poseidon might have intervened on behalf of the sisters.
But her methods were insidious, leaving no room for such aid. After all, to most, the slaying of a monster by humans was simply justice.
Trapped on this island, Medusa was forced to endure wave after wave of emboldened heroes.
Each confrontation pushed her to use her petrifying mystic eyes, driving her further toward the abyss with every battle.
In the original myth, Medusa's fate was sealed. She fell completely, consumed by her "demonic" nature, transforming into the true snake-haired Gorgon.
Her sisters, unwilling to abandon her, relinquished their own divinity, allowing themselves to be devoured by the Gorgon, forever merging with their beloved sibling.
And then came the familiar tale of the great hero.
Perseus, son of Zeus, armed with gifts from the gods: winged sandals from the Graeae to walk the air, a cloak to alter his appearance, the Kibisis sack to capture monsters, a bronze mirror-shield from Athena to serve as a scrying tool, and Harpe, the serpent-slaying sickle from Hermes.
Perseus found the Gorgon in the Temple of Blood. But he was no match for her.
As the Gorgon unleashed the dark magic of her temple to consume him, the Kibisis sack expanded, enveloping Perseus.
It reversed the concepts of inside and outside, trapping the Gorgon within her own dark temple. Yet her immense regenerative power rendered ordinary weapons useless.
Only Harpe, with its ability to negate regeneration, could end her life.