The echo of those words lingered, deafening and stirring.
Having listened to the entire story and combined it with the information he already knew, Lorne finally pieced together the full truth.
In fact, bull and minotaur-like imagery in many civilizations represents sacredness, nobility, and authority.
And for the Minoans, even more so.
Because their divine queen, Europa, the mother of the three Minoan brothers—was famously abducted by Zeus in the form of a bull, leading to their union and the rise of Minoan civilization.
Thus, apart from the goddess symbols of birds and serpents, their sacred emblems often include bulls and minotaur-like figures.
If what the King of Minos said was true—offering the bull, the embodiment of Crete's sovereignty and divine essence, to Poseidon, then, under divine logic, it would mean Crete had pledged allegiance to Poseidon's faction.
At the same time, Poseidon would not only replace the Great Mother and Athena as the main deity of the Minoans but also gain a foothold through them to extend his oceanic power onto the land.
A cunning switcheroo, truly.
But in the end, the King of Minos saw through the plot and turned Poseidon's trick back on him—he hid the divine bull and sacrificed an ordinary one instead.
Yet, when Poseidon uses trickery, it is divine will. When mortals do the same, it becomes blasphemy.
The gap in strength determines the scale of justice, which is the cruel fact of the Age of Gods.
Infuriated by the failed scheme, Poseidon retaliated under the guise of punishing blasphemy.
He cursed the divine bull, causing the queen of Minos to develop a bestial desire, luring her to mate with the bull—and from that came the infamous half-man, half-bull monster: the Minotaur.
Because their faith so revered such symbols, corrupting and tainting them was the greatest possible humiliation.
Having sorted through the events, Lorne looked at the elderly king with a bit of sympathy.
At that moment, Little Medusa spoke up curiously.
"What about the child?"
"Anna!" Lorne's voice sharpened, his eyes showing a hint of reproach.
Forcing an elder who had endured so much humiliation to reopen such a wound was, at the very least, impolite.
"It's fine."
King Minos gently waved his hand, his gaze softening as he looked at Little Medusa with the kindness of a grandfather and responded in a low voice.
"He is fine. I've kept him locked in the underground palace. Due to the curse, he's tainted with demonic nature and easily loses control, so he cannot be let out freely."
"Does he eat people?"
Another innocent yet offensive question. Lorne couldn't help but facepalm and smile bitterly.
"Haha, of course not! That's just a rumor spread by city-states who fear and slander the Minoans' sacred symbol."
King Minos laughed heartily and explained patiently.
Little Medusa, visibly relieved, patted her chest and murmured:
"That's good… That's good…"
As a god and monster, she also possessed demonic nature. She was afraid that her future would become like the rumors, turning her into a bloodthirsty and murderous monster.
Noticing her concern, Lorne grumpily reached out and rubbed her little head full of wild thoughts, then turned back to King Minos.
"So… Daedalus was part of Poseidon's plan too?"
King Minos nodded, his expression cold.
"The man had talent, yes—but out of jealousy and fear that his nephew Talos would surpass him, he went insane. He tricked the boy up onto the Athenian city wall and pushed him off, killing him.
When the truth came out, Daedalus was sentenced to death by the Athenians—but due to his status and contributions, his punishment was reduced to exile, and he fled to Crete."
"At the time, I was suffering under Poseidon's curse and admired his talent. So I recruited him, hoping that, in honor of the goddess, he could use his skills for good."
"But unexpectedly, he secretly made a deal with Poseidon and smeared cow estrus fluid on the device he built…"
At this point, King Minos's expression was dark and frightening, clearly filled with a deep hatred for Daedalus.
Hearing this, Lorne understood.
The cursed queen was the one who fell for the bull, but since King Minos knew this, he would have definitely hidden his wife, beware of Poseidon's revenge by borrowing the Cretan bull.
But in the end, it wasn't the queen who went seeking the Cretan Bull for an affair. Instead, she climbed into the wooden cow, and was precisely targeted and ravaged by the bull that broke into the palace.
Clearly, something fishy was going on.
If Daedalus hadn't tampered with the device, the whole chain of events wouldn't make any sense.
Thus, when his son died crossing the Oceanus Sea, it was no coincidence, it was retribution for Daedalus's repeated transgressions.
Of course… it might also have been Athena acting behind the scenes.
"Wait a second, if Poseidon did something that despicable, what about Zeus? Didn't he intervene? He's your father, isn't he?"
At this point, Hestia, who had been silently eating and keeping her promise of not speaking, could no longer hold back. She slammed down her fork and turned toward her grandnephew, visibly upset.
"Your father?"
King Minos gave a derisive snort, shaking his head with a blank expression.
"I prayed to him countless times… and not once did he answer."
"Could it be that he didn't hear you?"
Hestia began to offer the possibility, then quickly shook her head, dismissing the thought herself.
The face of a god cannot be looked upon directly.
The name of a god cannot be invoked lightly.
These were truths of divine law.
When something that concerned divine authority and worship was mentioned repeatedly, Zeus, the one being invoked, could not possibly have been unaware.
Besides, King Minos was Zeus's own son by the mortal queen Europa, his true-blooded descendant.
The father-son link alone should have made it impossible for Zeus not to sense his son's desperate calls.
For a moment, Hestia found herself at a loss, unable to explain it.
"At first, I couldn't understand it either," King Minos said calmly, as if he had long expected this question. Then, a cold irony crept into his voice.
"I used to think I was the one who broke the oath first—that he wouldn't, or couldn't, stand up for me against his own brother."
"Until the day the goddess told me…
I shouldn't have honored the Mother goddess more than the Father god.
And I definitely shouldn't have tried to atone by offering the true Cretan Bull to her."
So that was it.
Lorne's eyes gleamed as the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
Zeus wasn't unaware.
On the contrary, he had known about Poseidon's scheme from the very beginning.
Because without Zeus's tacit approval, how could Poseidon have siphoned the divine authority and kingship of Crete—part of Zeus's gift to his sons?
And the reason for all this?
Simple.
The Minoans revered the Mother Goddess more than the Father God.
Worse, this King of Minos had even tried to offer Zeus's divine legacy, the Cretan Bull, as a sacrifice to Athena.
That was blasphemy in Zeus's eyes.
After all, the curse rooted in his Titan bloodline had always haunted him day and night
He was afraid that one day he would be overthrown by his own children. How could he tolerate such a betrayal?
Yet for all his foresight, and calculations, Zeus likely never imagined that the Cretan Bull, embodiment of Crete's divine kingship, would, after a long and winding journey, ultimately end up as Athena's offering anyway.
With the decline of Minoan civilization, the out-of-control Cretan bull ran around the island of Crete, spewing fire and causing disasters everywhere.
Eventually, Heracles arrived on Crete as part of his twelve labors and subdued the beast, presenting it whole as an offering to Hera.
But the Queen of the Gods, whether because she failed to recognize its value or out of deliberate scorn—released the bull instead of accepting it.
In the end, the bull was captured by Theseus, prince of Athens, and finally offered to Athena.
A cold smirk tugged at the corners of Lorne's lips as he looked up at the elder before him, this brother, now gray-haired, haggard, and burdened with sorrow, with eyes full of quiet pity.
"So… from that moment on, you stopped offering sacrifices to the Father of the Gods?"
"Since the gods no longer favor mankind, then mankind has no obligation to worship them."
King Minos nodded calmly, his tone placid, yet laced with a faint, cutting sarcasm.
"After all, it was Prometheus the Seer who created our flesh,
It was the Great Mother Athena who gifted us our souls.
The so-called gods… merely forged this boxed garden we call a 'world.'"
"..."
As one of the Olympian deities, Hestia opened her mouth to argue,but no words came.
In the end, she simply pressed her lips together, lowered her head, and silently resumed eating.
(End of Chapter)