"Alright, you two handle the details yourselves. I'm a little tired."
Metis rose lazily, waved her hand, and started toward the palace.
"Careful, slow down—for the child's sake."
Zeus, standing nearby, smiled wryly with concern. He immediately summoned one of his loyal Hecatoncheires to accompany his wife, who was about to give birth.
"I don't like this one. He's too ugly."
The Goddess of Wisdom cast the Titan monster a teasing glance and rolled her eyes with charm.
"I'm afraid I'll be away for a while. During that time, as your husband, I have to think about your safety."
"It will watch over you from a distance without disturbing you."
"Metis, my love, pregnancy weakens your divine power. For our child's sake, and your own, stay on Olympus. Don't wander. Bear with it."
The God King walked forward, gently supporting his wife's delicate arm, his words full of genuine affection.
"But being stuck in one place all the time is so boring."
Metis frowned slightly, clearly displeased.
"That's simple. Whatever you want, whatever you like, we'll bring it here to keep you entertained."
Zeus, endlessly indulgent toward his pregnant wife, replied with a tender smile.
"Then I want half of this shield for our daughter to play with. Will you give it to her?"
Metis grinned slyly, pointing at the Aegis in his hand.
"How do you know it's a daughter?"
"I'm the one carrying her, of course I know! She kicks me every day—such a little troublemaker."
Zeus rubbed his nose, raising a hand to feel the stir of life in his wife's belly, while Metis rolled her eyes again.
The scorned God King gave a sheepish smile, then turned serious. He lifted his Thunderbolt and split the Aegis clean in two.
A Cyclops rushed in at the sound, took the two broken halves, and muttered sorrowfully under his breath.
"Go. Reforge these into two shields. When our daughter is born, I'll use my authority as her father to protect her."
The gods present in the temple looked on in shock, exchanging uneasy glances. Even those uninvolved felt a pang of regret.
The Thunderbolt, a supreme weapon of attack, and the Aegis, nearly flawless in defense, together formed an almost perfect balance—offense and defense, seamless and unbreakable.
Yet now, the treasure painstakingly forged by the Cyclopes had been destroyed by Zeus himself, all because of one offhand request from Metis. It was nothing less than leaving himself a weakness.
Such devotion had reached its peak.
"Who even wants your broken shield? You can't look at it, can't play with it, can't eat it. I was only joking, and you actually took it seriously."
Metis blinked in mild surprise, then rolled her eyes in disdain, glancing at the fragments already being carried off to Mount Etna. Her tone was dismissive.
"If you want it, even my heart is yours."
Zeus spoke earnestly, his gaze soft as he looked at her.
Metis turned her head away, her violet eyes wandering elsewhere as she yawned in boredom.
"By the way, I saw an interesting game at my aunt Themis' place. Have her come teach me, so we can pass the time."
"That's… difficult. Mount Olympus and Mount Othrys are still locked in standoff. If word of my leaving spreads, it could provoke the other side to strike."
Zeus looked troubled, helpless in the face of her request.
"Then let her attendant come. That child knows how to play the game anyway."
The Goddess of Wisdom sighed softly, conceding the compromise.
"As long as you're happy."
Zeus's brow eased, and he nodded slightly, watching with gentle eyes as his wife returned to her chambers.
Unnoticed, the other gods had already slipped away from the courtyard. The God King walked slowly to the throne, settled into the center, and sat with ease.
His blue-white eyes gazed into the vast, empty hall, his fingertips trailing across his lone Thunderbolt as though caressing the skin of a lover.
...
At the foot of a hidden mountain on Olympus, Prometheus struck his younger brother across the face, veins bulging at his temple, his expression cold and stern.
"Go back and think about why you deserved that slap!"
The younger brother, meek and submissive before him, nodded obediently, not daring to defend himself.
If his elder brother said he was wrong, then he must be wrong. Yet he still didn't understand what mistake he had made.
"Also, from now on, stay away from Zeus and his family. Don't listen to anything they say, and don't accept anything they give you."
Prometheus looked at his brother's obedient eyes, still brimming with admiration, and sighed helplessly before giving his earnest advice.
"Why?"
The latecomer asked instinctively, but almost immediately realized how rash and foolish it sounded. His face flushed with embarrassment.
"Asking when you don't understand is progress. It's better than pretending to know everything."
Prometheus didn't scold his flustered brother. Instead, he lifted his gaze toward Mount Olympus, shrouded in thunderclouds, and murmured with deep meaning.
"That family… all masters of feigning ignorance. Yet at their core, each one is colder than the last."
The seer lowered his head, his eyes glinting with shadowed light. Perhaps for the foreseeable future, the Queen of the Gods would fade from the council's deliberations and focus solely on her pregnancy.
"I think the God King and the Queen seem quite in love. To please his wife, he even broke his most precious Aegis Shield with his own hands. Isn't that enough?"
The latecomer was still lost in confusion, but since his elder brother had spoken, he decided to voice his doubt.
"Where did the Aegis Shield come from?"
Prometheus shot him a glance and let out a faint, cold snort.
"Zeus stripped the hide from a female goat on Crete and had three Cyclopes forge it together at Mount Etna."
The latecomer answered instinctively, still puzzled.
"That goat on Crete… she was his wet nurse, the one who fed him with her milk."
Prometheus's voice was quiet, but his thoughts drifted to the two who once shared a throne. Their struggle, though without open war, had been as sharp and merciless as blades stabbing into the heart. His tone grew heavy.
"Once, he flayed and gutted his own wet nurse to make a shield. Now, to please Metis, he's split that same Aegis in two."
"In the future, he'll do the same for other reasons—stab his wife in the back. Do you understand?"
"And besides, our God King has already done it. Only this time, he used a dull knife that doesn't cut as deep."
His words were so clear that even the latecomer, no matter how slow, finally grasped the meaning. His voice came out dry.
"Zeus… is seizing power?"
They had been used as tools, turned into spears pointed at Metis.
The God King, taking advantage of his wife's weakness during pregnancy, had made his move in secret. Under the guise of protection, he sent the Hecatoncheires to watch over the Goddess of Wisdom, who was about to become a mother.
But Metis was no pushover either. She countered by forcing Zeus to sacrifice his own defensive artifact.
And that was only what showed on the surface of their marital struggle. Who knew how many hidden moves lay beneath?
The honest man felt a chill run down his spine, finally realizing that behind those smiles, husband and wife were stabbing each other in the dark.
Zeus's malicious schemes made him feel a pang of sympathy for Metis, the Queen of the Gods who had spoken up earlier to shield them from danger.
"Doesn't the God King fear being exposed?"
"Exposed? Everything Zeus said was true."
Prometheus answered calmly, his tone even. The latecomer looked stunned.
"He really still loves Metis?"
"Of course. He loves her with all his heart. Otherwise, he couldn't have hidden it from her scrutiny."
Prometheus nodded solemnly beneath his brother's questioning gaze. But then a cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"But he also loves himself. And even more than that, he loves supreme power."
"The blood in our veins carries the beastly hunger for power."
The prophet who understood Zeus's nature waved dismissively, beckoning his brother—still shaken by the revelation—to follow as they quickened their pace.
"Brother, this isn't the way home. Where are we going?"
The younger brother snapped out of his daze and asked without thinking.
"We haven't seen Aunt Themis in a while. We'll stop by to visit her."
Prometheus stood on the slope, waiting for his brother to catch up. His gaze drifted toward the lush, unending Cilician Marshes, his eyes filled with unspoken meaning.
Some debts must be repaid.
May this gamble prove worthwhile.
...
Deep within the marshes, Samael crouched by the riverbank, roasting fish over a campfire. He sneezed loudly.
Hmm, too much spice. Still, tastes pretty good.
The ancient serpent took a bite, nodded slightly, then shouted toward the dense forest, where smoke and dust were rising as the trees shook.
"Tina, dinner's ready! If you don't hurry, I'll eat it all!"
"Waaaah!!! Food! Food!"
The urgent, childish cry rang out, and the goddess's Larva came sprinting toward the fire.
But the moment Tina burst out of the forest, the laughter in Samael's eyes tightened sharply.
Because the goddess's Larva was holding the hand of a half-human, half-snake figure with purple hair and violet eyes, exuding a cold and imperious presence.
...
(50 Chapters Ahead)
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