The Cilician Marshes, inside a certain cavern.
The Mother of Genesis, her long blue hair cascading over her shoulders, stretched her body as she sat upon a wicker chair. On either side, emerald-green tendrils of the earth hung down, while her knees rested neatly together.
Samael, having just eaten his fill, lay across those smooth, rounded thighs. Tina's pale fingers gently brushed over the ancient serpent's head and face with a tender, soothing touch.
That faint tingling, carrying the breath of vibrant life, slowly melted away Samael's fatigue. A yawn escaped him, his eyelids growing heavy.
Perhaps it was simply the nature of the Mother Goddess, but Tina had recently awakened a new pastime.
The familiarity of her touch reminded Samael of the rabbit she had been absently stroking on her lap just days ago.
Clearly, this divine vessel—guided by blurred memories and instinctive thought—was rediscovering the joy of caring for a child.
And to this, Samael naturally...could not refuse.
The ancient serpent closed his eyes with a pleased hum, turning slightly to rub his cheek against the soft, springy warmth of her thigh.
As his body relaxed and weariness ebbed away, he rested his head more fully upon them, gazing up at the misty starlight scattered across the night sky. His lips moved unconsciously, murmuring.
Astraea… Astraea… That name sounds so familiar…
Stars… Daughter of the stars?
Tch. What are the most famous things tied to the stars again?
The twelve constellations, of course.
But then… her eyes. They're beautiful—why cover them with a veil?
Wait!
Samael's pupils shrank sharply as realization struck, and he suddenly lifted his head.
Astraea, daughter of the stars, guardian of Virgo.
Isn't that the goddess of justice from Greek myth?!
Yet just as his confusion began to clear, Samael laced his fingers together beneath his chin, furrowing his brow as his head dipped in thought.
No… something's off.
If Theogony really mapped the history of the Greek world, then by his memory, Astraea was Zeus's daughter—part of the second generation of goddesses of justice.
And that came after the war between the old and new Twelve Olympians, when Olympus had already secured its rule.
So why use the name of a goddess who shouldn't exist yet?
Hiding her true identity, yet knowing the name Astraea…
Showing such interest in arbitration as well...
Damn it. How could I forget the most obvious sign—the blindfold?
Back in university, at the opening ceremony of the sports meet, the law faculty had made quite the impression with their entrance procession.
Those carefully chosen girls in flowing white gowns, faces veiled in sheer fabric, holding a balance in one hand and a ceremonial sword in the other—the image had burned itself into his mind. For a long while, he couldn't stop thinking about the law school across the way.
After all, those in the know, know.
We're all serious people here—who actually goes to watch a sports meet for the athletics?
It was for the view.
Samael's memories from his past life stirred unexpectedly. The corner of his mouth curved upward as a look of nostalgia and sudden clarity lit his eyes.
It could only be her.
Themis—the Titaness of law and justice, one of the Twelve Titans of Mount Othrys.
Well then. What was a powerhouse like her doing wandering the Cilician Marshes?
And the golden scales… Astraea…
As the memories linked together, an unwanted image shoved its way into Samael's mind—a drill-haired, musclebound blonde with an overbearing aura. The sheer absurdity of it polluted his thoughts.
He groaned and shook his head, pushing that near-abstract caricature of the goddess from his mind.
Alright. It's all coming back now.
Astraea—the daughter of Themis, the first goddess of justice.
And in the future, her image and concept would take root in Luviagelita Edelfelt, the young heiress of a distinguished Nordic Magus Family.
Incidentally, the successor of Astraea, goddess of justice, was said to share a "good" compatibility with the vessel of Ishtar, goddess of fertility.
Hmm, a pair of enemies who love tripping each other up.
Samael's thoughts drifted back to his conversation with the Titan goddess earlier that day. The corner of his mouth twitched, his expression turning odd. Using her future daughter's name to conceal her identity—this was just…
He cleared his throat to cut off his own irreverent grumbling, then rubbed his chin, carefully considering his next move.
From the current situation, he could be fairly certain the goddess of justice bore him no malice. If she had, someone of her standing could have swatted him like a fly. There was no need for her to lower her own status and conceal her identity just to meet him on equal ground.
On top of that, Themis seemed genuinely interested in his arbitration methods, almost as though she wanted to learn from him.
Maybe he could use this chance to build a connection with her, secure a powerful ally before the divine war began, and then quietly stir the waters to his advantage. That would make things far safer.
After all, he wasn't alone anymore.
Astrea, the virgin goddess who symbolized purity? That might be worth trying.
Samael raised his hand, gently smoothing the green hair of the goddess's Larva. His eyes softened.
"Tina, how about I take you out to play tomorrow?"
"Aa!"
Tina's eyes lit up. She nodded vigorously, letting out a joyful sound before leaping into Samael's arms.
But with a sharp crack of air, her small body was blasted aside like a cannonball, skewered mid-leap by a pair of emerald-green horns. She slammed into the jagged stone wall behind them, leaving another human-shaped imprint among the craters.
Some kinds of love were destined to weigh heavy.
Like a victim lying at the scene of a car crash, his gaze was filled with grief, tears welling but unable to fall.
...
As the faint winds stirred in the inconspicuous Cilician Marshes with the fluttering of butterfly wings, the island of Crete prepared for a grand ceremony.
Their prince, Zeus, had come of age. He had revealed unmatched divine power and no longer needed anyone's protection.
At the mouth of the cave, two warriors clad in armor and bearing shields and spear-swords struck their chests, knelt, and bowed their heads in reverence. Then their bodies crumbled with the wind, returning to the soil of the earth.
Because of the curse placed by the first God King Uranus, the second God King, Kronos, lived in constant fear and devoured his six children one by one.
But this brutal god never imagined that mistreating his wife and obstructing the law of birth would earn him the hatred of Gaia, the Earth Mother Goddess.
This primordial deity, as old as the Greek world itself, had already decided in secret to see the curse fulfilled.
Thus, the Mother Earth conspired with the goddess Rhea, hiding Kronos's sixth child, Zeus, on Crete to protect him.
To ensure the boy's safe upbringing, they entrusted the sea nymph Amalthea with raising the prince.
Every day, two warriors formed from the power of the earth clashed in fierce combat, masking the divine surges and the prince's nightly cries.
They also taught the boy the art of war. But as he grew, even the two of them combined could no longer stand against him.
When at last they revealed Zeus's identity and destiny, passing on the divine oracle, the two spirits dwelling within the warriors departed to report back to their mistress.
Boom!
A silver-white bolt of thunder tore across the heavens, and the gears of fate began to turn slowly over Crete.