The library stood empty.
Moonlight spilled across the silent halls, turning marble floors pale and cold.
Within that silver glow stood the girl.
An olive-leaf crown rested upon her head.
In her hand—utterly disproportionate to her small frame—was a massive divine staff.
Embedded in the necklace upon her chest shimmered a transparent crystal fragment.
Moonstone.
The girl slowly raised the staff.
The sound of metal slicing through air rang sharply.
Adam's pupils contracted instantly.
Solid gold.
No hollow construction.
No illusion.
That staff weighed at least a hundred kilograms.
Yet in her hand—
it moved as lightly as a twig.
She lowered it and pointed directly at Adam's nose.
"You."
Her voice echoed through the empty chamber.
"Do you possess absolutely no respect for knowledge?"
Adam stared.
"…Goddess of Wisdom."
"Athena?"
The girl showed no reaction to the title.
No surprise.
No denial.
Her calm acceptance answered everything.
She was Athena.
Who else could she be?
The attire.
The crown.
The divine staff identical to statues Adam remembered from his previous life.
And the crystal—
a fragment of the Moonstone itself.
This was the Athena Library.
Her residence.
Her sanctuary of knowledge.
Adam had always assumed Athena was a giant.
No one had ever confirmed it.
He had simply taken it for granted.
But now it made sense.
The library, though enormous, could never house a true giant.
So—
Athena appearing as a small girl was shocking…
yet strangely logical.
What wasn't logical—
was meeting her like this.
And worse—
being exposed.
This situation was rapidly becoming dangerous.
Silence stretched between them.
Neither moved.
Adam didn't dare attack.
Even if she wasn't a giant—
she was still one of the Twelve Olympian Gods.
He had witnessed Apollo's power firsthand.
And in Greek mythology—
Athena's standing surpassed even Apollo's.
That tiny body might conceal terrifying strength.
Angel.
Demon.
Or some unknown divine race.
Anything was possible.
One certainty remained—
she was absolutely not a human child.
According to Smoke's intelligence, Athena was over sixteen hundred years old.
The library was both her home and her treasury.
Adam slowly tightened his fists.
Shifted his stance.
Balanced weight between attack and escape.
Prepared for both outcomes.
"I asked you a question!"
Athena puffed her cheeks angrily.
"Didn't you hear me, Vampire?!"
"…What do you want?" Adam stepped back slightly, eyes locked on her.
Complete vigilance.
Facing Athena carelessly would be suicide.
"What do I want?!"
She stamped her foot.
"You clean it up, obviously!"
Adam blinked.
"…Sorry?"
Athena took a deep breath and shouted—
"I said you are NOT leaving until everything is put back properly!"
Adam froze.
…That's it?
All this divine pressure—
for housekeeping?
Was she really…
just angry about messy books?
For a moment, Adam genuinely questioned reality.
"…Understood."
"I'll clean."
"Immediately."
"Good!"
Athena pointed at the scattered books, lips pursed in satisfaction.
Adorable.
Dangerously adorable.
Of course—
this "adorable girl" was a sixteen-hundred-year-old god.
Though, technically speaking—
Adam himself was a two-thousand-year-old monster.
Still.
Caution remained essential.
Adam crouched and began restoring the shelves one volume at a time.
Every nerve remained taut.
His ears tracked even the faintest sound behind him.
One whistle of air—
one hint of a weapon moving—
and he would transform into a bat instantly.
Escape first.
Think later.
He was gambling.
Betting that Athena's earlier reaction was genuine.
Betting she would truly let him leave afterward.
Because fighting here meant disaster.
Even victory wouldn't matter.
The disturbance would alert nearby temples.
Giants would arrive.
And once they connected the intrusion to Adam—
Athens would become a prison.
Leaving the city would be nearly impossible.
Cleaning took over an hour.
To Adam—
it felt like a year.
Athena stood behind him the entire time.
Arms crossed.
Supervising.
Still visibly annoyed.
Finally—
the last book slid into place.
Adam exhaled slowly and turned.
"…Done."
"May I leave now?"
Athena's anger had mostly faded.
She stared at him expressionlessly.
"What were you looking for?"
"…Hm?"
She sighed loudly.
"Are you deaf?"
"I asked—what were you searching for?"
Adam hesitated.
Tension returned instantly.
"…Just some books."
"Nonsense."
Her staff lifted again.
"What books?"
Adam improvised.
"They aren't here. Forget it. I'll search elsewhere."
Not the reaction he expected.
He had prepared for combat—
or dismissal.
Not interrogation.
Athena studied him briefly.
"…Vampire secret arts?"
Adam remained silent.
She sighed again.
"…Come with me."
"You don't look like someone who gives up easily."
"I'll get them for you."
"That way you won't sneak in again and wreck my shelves."
She turned and walked deeper into the corridor.
The enormous golden staff dragged casually behind her like a wooden stick.
Adam stood stunned.
"…You're giving them to me?"
Giants supposedly forbade vampires from accessing such knowledge.
Why would she—
Athena glanced back.
Her youthful face carried unwavering seriousness.
"To those who genuinely pursue knowledge," she said calmly,
"I offer help whenever I can."
"That… is the purpose of this library."
Her crystal-blue eyes shone—
ancient, resolute, utterly unlike a child's.
She was one of Olympus' Twelve Gods.
Athena.
In her world—
there existed only two things.
Wisdom.
And knowledge.