After all, the stated reason Agamemnon led his forces out was to fight over a woman back for his own brother!
On the surface these two brothers' relationship could no longer be described as good.
And Achilles did not concern himself with whether these two brothers genuinely had a good relationship or not.
Either way, disliking both of them together was the right call.
The enemy's brother was naturally also an enemy.
Not to mention that once he prepared to join the Trojan side, basically all the heroes on the Greek side would become his enemies anyway.
Faced with Achilles's words, Agamemnon was naturally furious!
After a big argument between the two, they once again parted on bad terms.
And words said without intent can be heard with intent.
When this argument reached the ears of other heroes, many of them had complex and tangled thoughts stirring inside, a mixture of feelings.
Heroes like Diomedes and Ajax the Great, who were not chosen before, found themselves thinking: if they had been the ones to fight, they would surely have performed better.
Perhaps the final outcome of the battle for Greece would have been different?
Odysseus also heard the news and his mood turned very dark and unpleasant.
After all, being called useless was something no one in the world could feel happy about.
Why was no one mentioning the pressure he was under, carrying two deadweights all by himself, back when Griffith had not yet been chosen?
If it were not for Palamedes's disgraceful display.
If only he had managed to get his hands on Paris on the battlefield.
And then fought his way through... alright, he could not have beaten either of the other two, but at least back then he could have first gotten Paris in his grip, and at least for now would not have completely lost all bargaining power.
Not only did he fail to capture that Trojan prince as originally planned, but their own king of Sparta ended up being captured instead.
By comparison, Odysseus believed he had already done everything within his power for the position he was in.
He did not think that putting someone else in his place would have resulted in anything better.
In the end, after several days of suppressed feelings, the heroes finally all broke out at once.
Arguments kept erupting throughout the allied camp.
The internal dynamics were not harmonious, and in the end they even began pointing fingers at each other, each blaming someone else for the loss of this decisive battle.
Of course...
The one person nobody blamed was Night.
After all, even though his final cannon shot went wide.
But based on the proper image he built up in front of everyone during those brief battles on the battlefield, every hero in their heart held a measure of respect for this descendant of the dragon-slayer, this new hero of Greece who was defeated but not disgraced.
Whether it was respect for a true man and a true warrior, or admiration for his powerful charisma and character, or even for his appearance... ahem!
That last one, scratch it.
Nobody wanted any petty schemes or intentions to defile that pure soul.
Even people who were usually as vile as they came, when it came to a man like this, could not bring themselves to use those dirty methods.
Because of respect, there was no desire to profane.
And just as the conflicts among the heroes were growing more and more frequent, and it looked as though things were going to fall apart on their own this time without Night interfering.
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On the other side...
Rather than calling it a critical injury, what happened to Night was closer to a deep sleep caused by excessive depletion.
This time he slept extraordinarily well.
And when he woke with his strength recovered, it should represent a leap in growth far beyond what it was before.
And during this process...
Night had a dream.
Like a revelation.
He saw a royal palace.
Lightning, blood, and screaming.
And in the end a terrifying scene of the heavens and earth collapsing and overturning, like the end of the world, as though the entire world was pressing down and crushing everything.
That was the wrath and killing intent of a god!
A bone-chilling cold that could freeze even the soul!
Then faintly a few words could be heard. "Birth." "Submission." "Reclaim." "Name." "Soul."
And then...
The very last word was "Forgotten."
At the very end of the dream, consciousness and body felt as though they were being stripped away, gradually vanishing from this world.
The sense of existence was taken as well.
It was a fear that could not be put into words.
The fear of being forgotten.
The fear of completely disappearing from this world.
As though even the proof of ever having existed in this world was being erased.
Then the abyss came regardless.
In the bottomless abyss of the blizzard, the eternal darkness where one could not see a hand in front of their face, capable of devouring all humanity.
Gradually, as humanity faded away, more and more memories disappeared, and in the end even the name was completely forgotten.
Leaving behind only a dim and lightless, barely flickering remnant ember of a soul that could not even be called a spirit or a consciousness.
Night woke with a start.
His back was already drenched in cold sweat.
"...! What a hellish dream!"
"Too real. That darkness. Could this be a prophetic dream?"
"Damn. Could that have been Tartarus at the bottom of the underworld?!"
"Or could it be that I dreamed of the underworld where Adonis will be trapped in the future?"
Even the underworld would not strip people of their humanity at will, right?
And according to mythology, the queen of the underworld also fell in love with Adonis and kept him like a secret treasure.
The place where the queen of the underworld resided, even if not some splendid grand palace, should not have been that dark and grim.
With still too little information to draw any conclusions, Night suddenly heard a familiar, sweet, and gentle voice beside him. "You are awake?"
When he looked toward the source of the voice, he saw the moon goddess Artemis keeping watch by the window.
"My goddess..." Night immediately moved to bow, but was stopped by Artemis.
"You need to rest, Griffith. I only came to look in on my brave warrior who belongs to me, and to tell him one thing after he woke. You did very well!" Artemis made no effort to conceal her admiration for Night.
Even now when she recalled the words he said in the decisive battle that day, that he would fight to win glory for his goddess, she only wanted to say one thing. "You already did it!"
In fact he had exceeded it by far.
Toward a follower who brought her such a great surprise.
Recalling that brilliant and shining, powerful and stunning, dragon-like hero figure from that day, Artemis had been unable to stop herself from replaying it in her mind these past days, losing herself in thought more and more often.
Though she did not quite understand what this feeling was, after confirming that she wanted to see her ward and do something for him, Artemis came.
And stayed in quiet watch until he woke.
Driven by that feeling, Artemis decided to do something for her follower.
For Night, whose performance on the battlefield was so outstanding, she resolved to give a new blessing as a reward.
And after thinking it over again and again, when she concluded that what he currently lacked most was a weapon that truly belonged to him.
Thinking about it, Artemis's slender jade-like hand opened slightly, and then a quiver, transparent as a white feather, appeared in her palm.
Though it was shaped like a quiver, it held only a single arrow, white as crystal.
Night: ???!
That was...?
What did Artemis intend to do?
When he sensed the terrifying destructive power contained within that arrow, even the moon blessing within his body faintly responded, showing signs of reaching out toward another aspect of moonlight attribute power.
Without any doubt! That was a genuine divine artifact.
And not an ordinary consumable!
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(End of the Chapter)