Daphne, one of the Nymphs, would one day become the laurel tree goddess after resisting the pursuit of Apollo, the son of Zeus and the sun god. She begged her father, the river god Peneus, to turn her into a laurel tree to escape him.
It was Apollo who granted her that title, and from then on he revered the laurel as his sacred tree. He adorned his hair, lyre, and quiver with its branches, and each year he crowned Greece's finest poet with a laurel wreath as a mark of honor. This tradition gave rise to the title of "laureate poet."
Romantic, isn't it? Touching, even?
Samael stroked the little girl's head, his thoughts drifting, his eyes filled with mockery.
By bloodline, she was the granddaughter of Oceanus, the Titan god of rivers and currents, making her Apollo's cousin of sorts. But legend said that Oceanus and his wife had birthed three thousand rivers to water the Greek world, scattering divine descendants everywhere—so many that even he couldn't keep track of them.
A granddaughter like Daphne? Her bloodline had long since diluted to who knew what degree. She wouldn't even rank high enough for an audience.
Which meant that even her own father dared not appear, and she had no hope that her dear grandfather would risk offending the ever-rising household of Zeus by standing up for her if Apollo defiled her.
In the Greek Age of Gods, bloodlines and family ties were unreliable, even within three generations. Most had to rely on themselves.
Don't spend all day just playing. If you want to survive peacefully in the Age of Gods, train harder.
Reason only works when there's equality. For gods who worship strength, fists still decide everything.
The reason Samael was so harsh on Daphne today was because he saw her stubborn, innocent nature. He wanted her to file down those sharp edges.
Otherwise, even without Apollo, she would still suffer in similar situations.
"Fine, fine, you're right."
The Naiad held her bruised little head, helplessly giving in to the ancient serpent's tyranny.
But with her cheerful nature, the girl quickly forgot the unpleasant scolding. After feeding some Ether-rich fruits to the eaglet she was raising, she crept back to Samael's side.
"But Samael, when will you take me to see that big ship?"
"It looked so fun inside!"
Realizing she hadn't listened at all, Samael rolled his eyes, snorted, and gave her head another sharp knock.
"Fun? Fun, my ass! I ditched that thing ages ago—who knows where it's rotting now?"
"Liar! You promised that if I showed you the way to a safe place, you'd take me to play on that ship!"
Daphne swung her tiny fists, puffed up with anger, scolding the shameless serpent for breaking his promise.
A few months earlier, she had been wandering along the coast, collecting shells to decorate her room, when she stumbled across him emerging from the sea mist.
For some reason, as soon as he stepped on land, he seemed unable to breathe the air. His face turned dark purple, his body flushed and burning, his consciousness nearly gone.
If she hadn't dragged him to safety, he might have been carried off by passing Magical Beasts or sea monsters.
"That thing's long since sunk. Pick something else I can actually do, then come find me again."
"And that little fellow in your arms is at his limit. He needs meat, spring water, and proper rest."
The ancient serpent snapped, flicking his finger against Daphne's smooth forehead.
She yelped, clutching her head, glared at Samael, then stuck out her tongue before scooping up the exhausted eaglet and flying back to her little nest by the pond.
Hmph! I'll settle the score with you tomorrow!
After sending her off, Samael suddenly spun around, his eyes dark and voice sharp.
"Who's there! Come out!"
But the forest only answered with the rustling of leaves in the breeze.
No one?
The ancient serpent muttered to himself, slowly relaxing his stance before turning back toward his cave.
Yet a quarter of an hour later, the figure that had left earlier stepped out of the shadows again, staring at the forest with a hand on his chin.
So it really was my imagination…
Well, of course. I'm just a little snake who slipped across the border. Who would even care?
Tch. Fine, let me be paranoid. Better safe than sorry.
After all, in the first few days of arriving in the Greek World, he had nearly capsized thanks to the Ether here, which was several magnitudes richer than he was used to.
If he'd overdosed on the shore, the next day's receding tide might have left him in some fish's belly.
The Age of Gods truly was full of dangers at every step.
Samael looked around at the dense ancient forest, trees ranging from tens to over a hundred meters tall, and the swamplands shrouded in mist all year round. He knocked his own head in frustration.
Since coming ashore, he had gradually adjusted to the environment of the Greek Age of Gods. It had taken effort and several painful molts to refine his divine blood.
Only after all that had he finally stripped away his mortal dregs and impurities, stepping at last into the rank of a Divine Spirit.
But the problem was, leaving aside the Twelve Titans who ruled heaven and earth, the Ether here was so rich it was nearly liquid, and with gods breeding like humanoid seeding machines, divine spirits were everywhere—so common they were practically sold by the cartload.
At his current level, he could only throw his weight around within a range of a few dozen miles.
But boasting meant nothing here—lying low and quietly growing stronger was the only real way to survive.
This wasn't Mesopotamia, where conditions were favorable. The Mother Goddess Tiamat herself couldn't enter this land.
So if he got beaten down, calling for parental protection would do him no good.
And from what he had gathered from Daphne and the other Nymphs, it wouldn't be long before the entire Greek World faced an upheaval of staggering scale.
Hadn't the six children of the goddess Rhea all been swallowed by her husband, Kronos?
Heh. Not six—five.
It seemed even Kronos himself, king of the second generation, was being kept in the dark.
Among the six siblings, the last born, the child of destiny named Zeus, was likely now on the island of Crete, about to come of age.
A great shift in divine authority, a revolution woven with the Curse of the Mandate of Heaven, was already brewing in secret.
Which meant it was time for him to prepare as well.
Samael cast a long, deep glance at the distant, chaotic sky, then turned into his cave, sealing it with defensive wards.
Once he confirmed everything was secure, the ancient serpent plucked from the wall a Soul Cage glowing with blue light and followed the winding tunnels deeper underground.
After seven or eight turns, he stepped into a wide, luminous cavern.
But suddenly, a fierce wind burst from the shadows of a corner and slammed into him, hurling the unprepared serpent away.
...
At that very moment, Daphne had just returned home to the riverbank. As she stepped inside, she saw a goddess sitting in the hall—her face hidden beneath a black veil, her body draped in a white gown that revealed graceful curves.
Her father, seated at the head, was drenched in sweat as though under interrogation.
"Daphne, you're back?"
"Come, come! This is your… cousin..."
"Ahem… a distant cousin. She wishes to stay in the marshes for a while. Help her get familiar with the place..."
The river god Peneus rose in a flurry, dragged his bewildered daughter before the goddess in white, muttered a hurried explanation, then stiffly bolted from the room.
"Hello, cousin! You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
Daphne bared two dainty little fangs as she smiled, taking the goddess's hand with genuine admiration.
"Daphne, is it? Thank you for looking after me these past few days."
"You may call me... Astraea..."
The goddess's expression flickered subtly. A shadow, sharp and watchful, stirred in her memory, and the corners of her lips curved faintly.
"Astraea. It means Daughter of the Stars..."
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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