Fate consistently possessed a subtle, converging similarity.
Much like how a Celtic goddess would choose vengeance due to unrequited love, even though the powerful high gods Ares and Poseidon had failed completely, Eris, who wasn't even numbered among the twelve Olympians, showed zero intention of giving up.
Of course, she was still a member of the Celtic trinity of goddesses, after all.
Although Eris lacked the seat of a high god, her raw strength, methods, and capability for stirring up trouble stood vastly superior to the War God Ares, making her far more dangerous and troublesome to deal with.
Yet Ares was the son of Hera, the Queen of the Gods, born with a golden spoon in his mouth, allowing him to directly claim the loud and illustrious title of the War God.
Among the twelve Olympians, a figure defined by endless defeats possessed absolutely zero justification for holding the mantle of the War God.
Although Eris and Ares were sibling gods (or rather, brother-sister deities), she shared absolutely no blood connection with Hera.
Indeed, she shared a link with Ares, yet held zero relation to Hera.
As absurd as that sounded, it was quintessential Greek mythology.
In the Iliad, Eris is presented as the sister of the war god Ares, and her figure was often conflated with the war goddess Enyo. However, neither Eris nor Enyo is given a familial relationship with Hera in Homer.
A specific variation in the myths stated that Ares was born after Hera simply smelled a magical flower, and as the companion deity of Ares, Enyo or Eris was born simultaneously, much like Eros accompanied the birth of Aphrodite.
Due to this companion relationship, the two, who shared similar authorities and power sources, forged the connection of sibling gods, a narrative designed to illustrate that they were as inseparable as brother and sister.
Yet in truth, Eris wished for nothing more than Ares's swift demise, which would allow her, as a goddess sharing the exact same power source, to legitimately inherit the authority and strength of the War God.
With her unique talent for inciting human hearts and manipulating conflicts, the authority over war—which had been reduced to a second-rate domain under the War God's handling, would likely transform into the most terrifying divine authority in the Greek world once placed in her hands.
After all, the concept of war was an absolute cheat.
As long as she could continuously provoke conflicts among the gods, ensuring war raged endlessly, the other gods would only grow weaker as they fought, while Eris would steadily grow stronger.
Inciting discord everywhere was precisely what this Goddess of Discord excelled at above all else.
Furthermore, Eris possessed a specific trait that was hard to define as either a flaw or a virtue: her boldness was immense.
Even though she wasn't one of the twelve Olympians, she harbored zero fear of offending any deity whatsoever.
For instance, at this exact moment, she had hijacked Athena's dependent and was actively plotting her next move.
With Diomedes completely dropping his guard and treating her as his true goddess, Eris's mind-controlling magic of chaotic power breached the spiritual mind of this formidable hero with absolute ease.
"Excellent, just like that."
As this seductive goddess conceived a delightful idea upon acquiring a new toy, the corners of her lips curled into a subtle, enchanting arc.
Will you enjoy my grand gift?
Athena, and... Griffith!
Very soon, we shall meet once again.
A hero capable of eliminating both Poseidon and Ares, ah!
A noble soul that has achieved the absolute glory of god-slaying is simply far too dazzling.
I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it!
Driven to absolute madness, consumed by intense longing.
The Goddess of Discord isn't an entity one can cast aside so easily, Griffith!
Even now, recalling those three spear strikes that had slaughtered the War God and the Sea God, Eris's gaze remained somewhat dazed, completely captivated by the memory.
She was thoroughly enthralled!
One had to remember that in the neighboring Celtic mythos, she was a complete, unadulterated love-brained entity.
When gentle, she could act as the Earth Mother or the Goddess of Agriculture, yet when driven mad, she could transform into a wild goddess of war, discord, and strife.
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Meanwhile, on the other side,
Night was experiencing another dream.
It was a deeply familiar dream.
Much like the scenery he had envisioned in his slumber after finishing those three battles previously, the images within this dream had grown significantly clearer.
It resembled a prophetic dream.
Yet he was absolute in his conviction that the narrative within held zero relation to himself.
If the scene before his eyes brought Night any sense of familiarity, it closely resembled the link between a Heroic Spirit and a Master in the universe next door.
After forging a covenant, a Master possessed a distinct probability of witnessing the past experiences of their servant during slumber, gaining an understanding of their history.
So if one ventured a bold hypothesis, this was precisely the past optical memory of someone who had forged a covenant with him.
And the entities sharing a covenant-like existence with him were currently limited to the little red dragon and Athena.
Given that this dreamscape had manifested prior to Athena's creation, it clearly held zero relation to Athena.
Which meant the only possibility was the red dragon, Helena.
The exact instant he realized this truth, Night felt the connection turn remarkably vivid, and the fragmented scenes before his eyes gradually organized into a clear, structured narrative.
The covenant embedded within his soul was burning with a scalding heat.
Perhaps it was because he had drawn upon far too much of the red dragon's power and bloodline to reinforce himself recently, leaving him occasionally worried whether he might exert too much force and drain Helena to death.
After all, his recent combat intensity had been exceptionally high, with every single evolution occurring right at the razor-sharp boundary of death.
On the other hand, it appeared he was drawing closer and closer to that individual, raising the question of whether these prophetic dreams turned clear or blurry based on physical proximity.
What a case of poor signal quality.
And as the signal fully restored, a ancient Greek-style palace manifested before Night's eyes, revealing a Helena whose face looked familiar, yet whose hair and eye colors differed entirely.
Presently clad in a gorgeous, flowing gown, she looked every bit as dazzling and bright as a princess, yet her eyes carried a distinct shade of deep anxiety.
Night thought, What is this...?
He recalled that Helena was supposed to be the Red Dragon Queen born from the earth's veins, the Dragon of Carthage, the Princess of the Undead.
Though she carried the title of a princess, she was a young girl who had dwelt within the post-death world, the Roman Underworld, since her very inception.
Yet the world before his eyes was clearly the mortal realm, and the girl standing before him was a living human.
Boom!
Right at that moment, the roar of thunder echoed beside Night's ear.
Following that massive thunderclap, identical to the thunderous roar from his previous dream, a sudden wave of heavy pressure manifested within this space.
A sharp sense of dread and crisis rushed directly toward him...forcing him to attempt to channel the raw power of the God of Devastation to resist it.
To his surprise, he could actually channel his strength within this dreamlike realm.
Though he couldn't feel the presence of the Sun Spear or the Moon Arrow, the Arrow of Artemis embedded deep within his soul automatically emerged to protect him at the critical juncture, acting on pure instinct.
This caused Night to murmur softly in a quiet voice, "Artemis..."
She truly was a deeply reassuring and gentle patron goddess.
Thinking of that Goddess of the Hunt, and seeing this divine arrow that emerged automatically to shield its master in every moment of crisis, Night felt a genuine warmth in his heart despite not having used it in battle many times, his favorability toward her skyrocketing.
Under the combined force of the God of Devastation's power and the Arrow of Artemis, that terrifying sense of dread dissolved completely.
Then, raising his head, Night continued to observe the scene before him.
A shimmering gate of light materialized inside the grand palace.
In the next instant, that gate of light morphed into a massive head composed of pure energy.
With just a single glance at the shape of that head, a powerful instinct flared within his mind, warning him to lower his gaze immediately, as if stealing even a few more looks would lead to his detection, even though this was entirely his own dreamscape.
Yet his intuition warned him that being discovered would lead to a truly horrific outcome.
Fully aware that he was still situated within the Greek world, and completely unable to decipher the exact connection between this dream and Greece itself, he refrained from making a reckless attempt to spy on that towering head, which stood taller than the palace gates.
Yet despite that fleeting glance, he couldn't help but feel that the features of that energy head looked strangely familiar, as if he had encountered it somewhere before.