When it came to that Golden Apple you had flown over, Athena was already simmering with frustration.
The inscription "To the fairest goddess" was practically malicious in intent, painting a target on her back. Overnight, she became the center of ridicule and suspicion, forced to juggle endless trouble. She'd been run ragged just trying to keep the thing safe.
Plastic sisterhood already?
Samael's smile turned amused as he leaned in, curious.
"Come on, tell me—how did Medusa make her move? She definitely stuck her hand in this."
Athena's lips twitched, her expression darkening.
"The messenger you sent—because of a few bites of food—got seduced into betraying me. Now he's glued to that woman's side all day long...
So Medusa loudly declared the Golden Apple was meant for her. She's been blocking my door every single day. And since there's no name engraved on it, I can't exactly refute her!"
The Goddess of Wisdom clenched her fists, silver teeth grinding in fury.
"Thinks my cooking isn't good enough?! Dares to run away in the middle of the night?! If that little brat ever comes back, I'll pluck every feather off it and toss it straight into a stew pot!"
Wow. A roundabout tactic—a strategic flank from the blind side.
Samael rubbed his chin, a mischievous glint in his eyes, remembering the snow-white owl whose taste he had personally spoiled.
Athena's cooking skills, as far as he recalled, were on par with an alchemist's chaotic experimental stew. Expecting her to improve the bird's diet was wishful thinking—keeping it alive was impressive enough.
Easy to go from frugal to indulgent, hard to go back from indulgent to frugal.
So that cunning little creature defecting to a better meal ticket wasn't surprising at all.
Samael let his gaze wander toward the massive sacrificial rites taking place at the harbor, casually scanning for familiar heroes while continuing the conversation to pass the time.
"Speaking of which, if Medusa is pulling this nonsense, couldn't you take it to Themis for judgment? I've talked with her about property law, you know."
"I did appeal..."
"And then?"
"Collecting evidence, presenting proof, the trial procedures—it takes time..."
"So..."
"So the first step is to submit the item as evidence. The judge holds it in custody. Understand now?"
"Ahem... so in this case..."
"Of course I withdrew the suit! They've already teamed up behind my back, planning to snatch the apple just to play with it for a few days. Expecting Themis to give a fair ruling? Not a chance. Law may be impartial, but law enforcers are never free of bias."
Athena crossed her arms, entirely aware of her two "dear sisters'" personalities.
Then the Goddess of Wisdom narrowed her eyes, her expression turning sharply alert.
"Tell me… throwing something like this our way to divert attention—did you do something disgraceful recently?"
"How could you accuse me out of nowhere? Do I look like that kind of snake?"
Samael protested loudly, but his eyes drifted away, guilty.
And honestly... those seven days and seven nights with Atalanta had been utterly intoxicating. Even now, he still didn't feel like getting out of bed.
Before Athena could press the matter, the Ancient Serpent straightened, shifting to a calm, serious tone as he explained the apple's true origin.
Aphrodite's divine authority over love, amplified by Samael's fate-bound Word of Power?
Athena summoned the Golden Apple from the magic array, casually tossing it in her palm. Her brows knit slightly as she pondered—half questioning, half answering herself.
"Father... you didn't send this just to troll us, did you?"
"Teasing you was just part of the testing phase. The real purpose is to guard against Aphrodite."
"The goddess of love? Is that really necessary? Speak clearly."
"We haven't met face to face yet, but we've crossed paths indirectly several times. That woman is... far from simple."
Samael's tone deepened, a strange gleam flickering in his eyes as he began recounting hidden truths buried beneath the surface of Greek heroic history.
Helen of Sparta, Hippolyta of the Amazons, Atalanta of Arcadia...
All three women who had gotten involved with him were entangled in troublesome fates.
Helen ignited the Trojan War.
Hippolyta spurred the conflict between Athens and the Amazons.
Even Atalanta—had she truly married Hippomenes as prophesied—their son would have marched in one of Greece's other great epics, the Seven Against Thebes.
And then there was her role in the Calydonian Boar Hunt.
Aphrodite's influence had seeped into nearly every major thread of the Greek heroic age.
Athena straightened her posture and listened seriously. She lightly bit her thumb between her Sakura-pink lips, brow furrowed in thought before giving a slow, deliberate nod.
Indeed—any woman capable of having Zeus marry six powerful goddesses, bringing prosperity to Olympus while simultaneously igniting conflict after conflict—could never be just a pretty face.
And if they intended for Areopagus to replace Olympus, they had to factor in Aphrodite, the most volatile variable of all.
Samael rubbed his chin, eyes drifting toward the faint silhouette of Olympus in the distance, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
"I tore that love goddess's plans to shreds. Of course she'd hold a grudge. Wouldn't be surprising if she stirs something up during the Golden Fleece expedition. Better to prepare early."
Right—Medea's tragic love story during that same expedition was also very likely the handiwork of the love goddess.
Truly, no matter where one looked, her shadow was always there.
Athena lifted a dark brow, amusement flickering in her eyes.
"And what scheme is brewing in that head of yours now?"
"I've heard Hera can't stand her. If Aphrodite jumps around too much… what do you think would happen if I tossed this golden apple right between them?"
"Father, you're awful!"
"Ahem… well—"
"But not awful enough. If it were me, I'd call Medusa and Themis over and stuff it full of Earth Mother authority—laws, decrees, all of it."
The Goddess of Wisdom paused, gears turning, then her smile curved into something deliciously sinister.
"And then I'd spread a rumor… something like: 'Whoever obtains this will earn Gaia's recognition and may enter the Earth Mother's temple to awaken the primordial land…'"
What could he even say? Truly, the student surpasses the master—but this shade of "blue" was so pure it was practically black.
Listening to Athena gleefully devise ways to plunge the Olympus goddesses into chaos, clutching her new toy like a child with fireworks, Samael wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
"Schemes are the very definition of wisdom," he muttered. "Hearing it from you… yeah, no surprise."
"Alright. As long as you're happy with the gift. Play with it all you like."
"Happy? I'm thrilled. It's been ages since I've gotten something this entertaining. I'm tempted to slip in myself just to watch the show."
"Do whatever you want, but we need Olympus stable for now. Hold off on actually doing anything."
"Fine. Areopagus will keep Zeus distracted. Just hurry with your side—and be careful."
Athena slid the Golden Apple back into the magic array, her expression sharpening as a cold violet gleam flashed through her eyes.
"After all… Zeus is far from benevolent. The divine runes he inscribed have already turned that ship into a hidden great altar."