"Ahem…"
Just as the atmosphere was becoming increasingly awkward, King Minos on the bed coughed lightly, reached out to pick up the golden scepter at the head of the bed, and handed it to Lorne in front of the bed.
"This is the scepter that can command Talos. The exact incantations—you can ask Ariadne."
As the scepter passed into his hands, and with the old king sounding more and more like he was entrusting his last will, Lorne instinctively opened his mouth to object, only to be silenced by the elder's raised hand.
"No need to refuse.
Forcing this responsibility onto you, I already feel deeply guilty.
But now that I'm too frail to be of use, it's better to give what still holds value to someone who can actually use it. I trust you'll wield them well."
As he spoke, the old man let out a sharp whistle.
A lithe, long-limbed hunting dog with sleek, golden fur came sprinting from the palace courtyard.
It darted over to the bedside like lightning, circling the bronze badge in King Minos's hand.
"Remember his scent—from now on, he's your master."
The king gently stroked the dog's smooth head and, with clear reluctance, handed the badge over to Lorne.
The moment the emblem changed hands, the golden hound let out a soft whimper, then dissolved into a beam of light and merged into the badge.
"Well then… I'll leave the rest to you…"
After passing on both relics, the king gave Lorne's hand a soft pat, murmured the words, and slowly closed his eyes, once more falling into a deep sleep.
Stepping quietly out the door, Lorne looked down at the two items in his hand and let out a helpless chuckle.
The bronze giant Talos.
The golden hound. And the spent golden arrows…
At this point, Crete's three ancestral artifacts had all become his personal loot.
The enemy's gold hadn't even dropped yet, and the teammate's entire inventory had already exploded.
What kind of absurd game is this?
Noticing the shifting expressions on Lorne's face, Hestia, who was feeling just a little guilty, poked him in the shoulder.
"So… what now?"
"What now? We sit and stew!"
Lorne snapped back to reality and shot a glare at the stove goddess who'd shoved him into this fire.
Hearing the sharp tone, Hestia sheepishly shrank back, whispering softly.
"W-What if I handle Ceto… when it reappears in seven days?"
"That's when things become truly hopeless. If it's come to you taking action, we'll know we've lost."
Lorne declined flatly, then raised his hand and traced a Hermes script, storing away the two artifacts Minos had given him.
After that, he stepped forward.
"Since I can't run from it… let's go. First stop: the administration hall. We need to get familiar with the current state of Crete."
"Mm-hmm! I knew I could count on you!"
Beaming at the sight of Lorne taking charge, the goddess with the intermittent brainstem kicked into high gear, cheerfully trotting after her external brain.
~~
Afternoon, Royal Palace Administration Hall
Lorne, buried in work, finally reviewed the last document detailing battle losses.
With a long exhale, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
His mind spun rapidly, analyzing everything he knew, formulating a strategy.
The second beast tide had devastated Crete.
Over half of the elite Divine-Blood Guard had been lost.
The once-invincible fleet built by King Minos was nearly wiped out, leaving them with no ability to launch another major offensive.
The only silver lining: the sea beasts had suffered almost equally.
Their core strength, the Divine-Blood Kin, had been almost entirely wiped out.
And the commanders, Scylla, Lamia, the "Great Whirlpool," and the Siren Sisters, were either dead, wounded, or scattered.
Much of the credit for that ironically went to Ceto, the Mother of Monsters.
As a being of pure madness and destructive instinct, her "area attacks" didn't discriminate between friend or foe.
The number of sea beasts she'd killed might have even surpassed the Minosians.
No wonder the Sirens had only dared release her at the last moment.
Lorne figured that as long as Ceto remained lurking in the nearby waters, the sea beasts wouldn't dare approach Crete again.
That meant, for now, there would be no third wave.
No mass-scale beast tide.
All they had to do… was prepare for the return of Ceto—in seven days.
But how ...?
Although his previous experience had shown that Gorgon blood could restrain Ceto to some extent…
Lorne had already asked Hestia once before and she made it clear: the biggest difference between gods and demigods is that gods possess a degree of physical immortality and extreme regeneration.
On top of that, Ceto was blessed by the sea itself, meaning she would continuously be supplied with magical energy for recovery.
If he tried to rely on Gorgon blood alone to take her down, even squeezing poor Medusa dry likely wouldn't be enough.
And after the last battle, Medusa's divine blood had been heavily depleted, she was still recovering.
It's troublesome...
Lorne sighed, handing the sorted documents to the ever-ready Princess Ariadne.
His eyes scanned the area and narrowed with mild surprise.
"Right. Where's Anna? I haven't seen her around."
Princess Ariadne nodded slightly and replied respectfully.
"Lady Anna had an urgent matter and said she was going to inspect the coastal defenses. She told me to deliver the files myself."
Urgent matter?
Lorne frowned, then stood up and headed for the exit.
"Go ahead with what I gave you. If you run into anything you don't understand, use the communication feather. I'll be out for a bit."
"Yes, Secretary."
Following her father's teachings, Ariadne responded with the same reverence she would offer a goddess, nodding solemnly as she watched Lorne's figure fade into the distance.
~~
Exiting the royal palace, Lorne followed the main road toward the coastal fortress on the outskirts of the city.
After enduring the onslaught of the second beast tide, the area was undergoing urgent repairs.
All around were soldiers remaining dutifully at their posts, along with a large number of citizens, some volunteers, some summoned — working in tandem.
They moved stones, rebuilt walls, and engraved magical warding runes everything progressing in orderly fashion.
No one dared slack off.
Every person gave their all.
There was barely a single word of complaint or argument.
Because in the world of gods, individual strength was insignificant.
Only by standing together could humans hope to survive.
From a higher vantage point, Lorne scanned the crowd of soldiers and workers, swarming like ants. He felt a swell of emotion, but then his brow furrowed gradually.
Strange… why isn't that girl here?
"Secretary Lorne, are you looking for Lady Anna?"
Just as his frown deepened, a deep voice called out from the worksite below.
A young man in a coarse linen shirt, sun-reddened skin and clear eyes, emerged from the crowd and walked over to Lorne's side.
There was something vaguely familiar about his face, and Lorne blinked in slight surprise.
"You are…?"
"Kontanios is my father. You met him once."
The one-armed young man smiled honestly.
With that prompt, Lorne immediately recalled the name.
Back during the sea disaster, he'd questioned an experienced old fisherman and from that conversation, predicted the first beast tide's approach.
That allowed King Minos to prepare early and strike preemptively.
So this was that fisherman's son. No wonder he looked familiar.
In fact, based on their house's location, they lived not far from Hestia's residence, Anna had mentioned them often.
Now that the identity was confirmed, Lorne's gaze softened.
His eyes were instinctively drawn to the man's empty left sleeve.
"Your arm…?"
"Oh… That was from ignoring advice and heading out to sea anyway. Got bitten by a sea beast. Lucky for me, I grabbed onto a piece of driftwood and floated back to the coast… and Lady Anna fished me out herself…"
The young man scratched his head sheepishly as he spoke, his eyes full of gratitude toward the little divine envoy who had saved him.
Realizing he was rambling, he quickly refocused.
"Secretary Lorne, you were looking for Miss Anna, right? I think I saw her heading toward that grove over there."
Then, after a brief hesitation, he added a detail in a slightly uncertain tone:
"And… she seemed kind of nervous."
"…I see."
Lorne nodded in thanks, watching the young man walk away. His gaze slowly narrowed.
Nervous?
A ripple of unease stirred in his chest. Lorne turned toward the direction the man had pointed and set off at a brisk pace, his fingers tracing lines of Hermes script mid-air.
Gradually, the figure weaving through the trees began to dissolve from view—perfectly blending into the surrounding forest.
Of all the magic he had learned during his years of study on Aeion Island, concealment was by far his greatest strength, perhaps even surpassing his teacher in this one domain.
The breeze that rustled through the woods brought with it a familiar scent and a tone of mocking amusement.
"Well? Is playing house with mortals really so much fun, Medusa?"
"Seems you've stopped listening. My foolish little sister…"
Lorne's expression shifted immediately.
He shrank behind a tree trunk, hiding in the shadows, and peered through the branches toward the clearing up ahead.
Two figures stood at its center, both familiar, and yet utterly unwelcome.
Lorne's heart sank.
Them?
Why is it them?
(End of Chapter)