— — — — — —
Roses, lilies, and jasmine bloomed throughout the garden, like something out of a fairy tale—beautiful and dreamlike.
Ryo didn't linger long by the central fountain. After a brief pause, he followed the stone path deeper inside.
He stepped through an arch woven from branches and leaves and reached the farthest end of the garden—the resting place of the "Sleeping Beauty."
A hammock-like cradle hung there, built from thick, dark-green branches with lush leaves forming a soft cushion.
Inside it lay Hermes, wearing an off-white princess dress, eyes shut tight as if in deep sleep.
Just outside the hammock, barely three steps away, stood Ares. Dressed like a storybook prince in a knight's uniform, he gazed down at the sleeping beauty with syrupy tenderness, inching forward slowly and carefully.
If you ignored the genders, the scene would almost look beautiful.
Reality, however, was something else entirely—
"Hermes, you damn sissy, that dress suits you way too well."
Ares—still in his princely getup—was obviously fighting the urge to move, straining to hold himself back even as he kept up the taunts.
"Get lost, Ares. Don't you dare touch me, or we're enemies until death."
Eyes still shut, Hermes spat the words out, full of hostility.
His eyelashes trembled nonstop, like he was about to open his eyes and wake up entirely.
It was obvious the two had triggered Croix's little theater mechanism, yet were desperately pushing back against the gift game's rules.
Watching this, Ryo raised his hand and clapped twice.
"Well, well… looks like you two are enjoying yourselves~"
The irritating voice snapped both Ares and Hermes to attention.
Ares couldn't turn his head due to the rules, but he knew it was Ryo and grinned.
"Oh? Ryo Yagami. Finally. You here to let me out?"
He didn't forget to twist the knife either.
"Zeus breathing down your neck isn't fun, right?"
Hermes stayed quiet beside him.
He had wanted to mock Ryo too, but after being blasted once by that blue flame, he wisely shut up.
'It's not that I'm scared… but Ares is obviously going to provoke him anyway. With someone else volunteering to be the lightning rod, it'd be stupid not to let him handle it.'
Ryo glanced at Ares, a faint smile curling his lips. "Take a guess what Zeus agreed to give me."
Ares' expression changed.
Croix's arena blocked outside communication, so this body—created through his god-defying method—had long since lost contact with his true self.
In truth, neither he nor Hermes had any idea what Zeus had decided.
But they could guess.
And knowing Zeus, if Ryo had demanded terms… even if they weren't impossibly harsh, as long as they hurt Zeus even a little…
'Wait... No way…' Ares felt a bad premonition.
Hermes, having reached the same conclusion, let out a hollow laugh and spoke with eyes closed, "Just kill me."
"Coward," Ares snarled at him, then turned back and scowled. "I can pay my own ransom. Just name your price."
"My price?" Ryo blinked, honestly surprised.
Judging by the tone, Ares sounded surprisingly "rich."
With that thought, Ryo's smile deepened. "There's a saying: If a child turns out badly, it's the father who is to blame."
Ares' eyelid twitched.
Ryo continued smiling as he said. "All you have to do is make Zeus apologize to me. Simple, right?"
His grin turned oddly malicious.
"As long as His Majesty the Greek God-King apologizes publicly, you won't owe me a single coin. I won't ask for compensation. You can just walk out of here. Pretty good deal, yeah?"
Humiliation. Naked humiliation. Zeus apologizing publicly—publicly as in in front of all gods.
If he actually did that, where would Zeus put his dignity? What would happen to the Greek pantheon's reputation?
On one side: Zeus—Lord of the Greek gods, ruler of a lower-layer powerhouse, divine stature rivaling the Heavenly Army's High Rank.
On the other side: Ryo Yagami—new leader of Arcadia, once glorious but currently still undergoing his five-digit promotion trial.
Would a superpower's president publicly apologize to the CEO of a small company?
Impossible.
The Twelve Olympians might be shameless in private, but when it came to divine dignity and the pantheon's name, even gods had lines they wouldn't cross.
And Ryo's entire goal was to step on Zeus and the Greek god-group's reputation—frankly speaking, he was clout-chasing off the Greeks to boost his brand.
It wasn't just Zeus who would reject that. Even Ares, upon hearing the demand, wanted nothing more than to chop Ryo into pieces for his insolence.
"Nice look in your eyes."
Ryo nodded in satisfaction at Ares' bloodshot, furious glare.
"But you seem to be forgetting something."
His smile widened. "This is my territory."
"You're the one forgetting something. These are just avatars."
Ares paused for a moment, then grinned coldly. "An avatar dies and that's it. You think you've really got us trapped?"
Ryo gestured politely. "Go ahead."
Ares' grin froze on his face.
Ryo let out a laugh. "What's wrong? Go ahead and kill yourself. Come on."
"Ares, if you're not a coward, go ahead and kill yourself right now. I'll wait."
Ares' face went pale, then dark, then a blotchy mix of both.
"Oooh," Ryo drawled mockingly. "Judging by that expression, losing an avatar isn't exactly painless, huh?"
"Let me think…" His tone turned teasing. "Is it because you bestowed your authority onto these avatars?"
"If the avatar dies, your divine authority goes into a temporary weakened state, doesn't it?"
"And if that's the case… yikes. The lower layers have been pretty unstable lately— godslayers, y'know. If an important chance comes up while you're weakened, that'd be bad, wouldn't it?"
Ares' face twisted, eyes blood-red.
"So Athena told you all that?"
Both the flaw in the Greek avatar system and the fact that a new path to two-digits was about to emerge in the lower layers—neither was information Ryo should ever have.
The latter could've come from Shiroyasha, someone who didn't care about such chances. But the former? That had "Athena snitched" written all over it.
"Take a guess," Ryo said playfully.
"…"
Ares fell into silence, expression tightening with visible struggle.
Then Hermes, who had been quiet the whole time, finally spoke. "You don't dare kill us."
.
.
.