After the two Nymphs departed, the rear garden of the Temple of Youth returned to its former silence, leaving the Goddess of Youth alone once more.
Hebe sighed as she plucked another grape sent by her mother, Hera.
"Of all the deities to be reborn as, why did it have to be Hebe? The frail, powerless Goddess of Youth."
Hebe felt a deep sense of frustration. She was not a soul of this world, but a traveler from the future of Huaxia. On a fateful rainy day, she had made the fatal mistake of seeking shelter under a tree, only to be struck by a bolt of lightning. She had thought her life was over, but her soul had somehow drifted into this alien realm—the world of Greek mythology. She had been reborn as the daughter of Queen Hera, a third-tier deity presiding over Youth: Hebe.
Though she had been in this world for some time, she still harbored a grudge against her lack of combat prowess.
What could a Goddess of Youth do on a battlefield?
Throw a golden chalice at someone's head?
Or perhaps drown her enemies in the Spring of Youth?
In this world of Greek myths, notorious for forced marriages and a total lack of moral restraint, a goddess as "soft" and "easily overpowered" as herself was constantly walking on thin ice.
Sometimes, Hebe found herself wishing she had arrived earlier. If she had been born as her brother Ares, the God of War, life would be much simpler. She wouldn't even mind the change in gender. After all, in this world where standards were nonexistent, a male god with immense combat power was the safest thing to be.
Fortunately...
Hebe closed her eyes, letting her consciousness sink into her divine form. Within the core of her heart, a pale green crystal floated quietly. This was her Godhood, representing the law of Youth. It radiated a brilliant light, and divine power pulsed through it like a tireless river.
Beside the Godhood of Youth, however, were two other godhoods, hovering between the ethereal and the tangible. These were the results of her relentless efforts since she first realized her identity in this world.
In this realm, it seemed that a god's rank and godhood were innate. Unless a deity encountered a miraculous opportunity to condense a new godhood, or an old god fell and their power was seized, one's station was fixed. Furthermore, except for the King of Gods himself, any god-slayer would suffer a divine backlash.
Another way was to be granted a godhood by a higher-ranking deity. But Hebe was not favored by Zeus. Even though Hera loved her daughter dearly, she couldn't simply hand her powerful godhoods on a silver platter. The most Hera could do was publicly display her affection to raise Hebe's status on the mountain.
Thankfully, Hebe was inspired by the cultivation novels she had read in her previous life. She remembered the concept of "attuning to the laws of heaven" to grasp the power of the universe and elevate one's cultivation.
She decided to try it. As for how to perceive these laws, she had a built-in cheat: her birthright artifact, the Chalice of Youth.
While the office of Youth was underwhelming, Hebe was the first deity to master the "Origin of Youth." Consequently, the laws of the world had granted her an artifact that flowed with the Spring of Youth. This relic was inscribed with the primordial power of the laws; its waters could grant eternal youth, erase negative status effects, and keep one's body in its absolute peak, vibrant state.
From this, Hebe sensed the powers of Purification and Healing. While these were not high-tier combat godhoods, they were far more versatile than mere Youth. If she could master these two laws and condense their godhoods, it would mean more than just a promotion in rank—it would be an elevation of her entire existence.
Thus, she had rejected all social gatherings and leisure. She had even approached her mother, Hera, to resign from her position as the Cupbearer of the Gods.
Hidden within her temple, Hebe spent her days and nights clutching her golden cup, meditating on the legal forces within. The hardship and boredom were beyond imagination. Laws are nebulous and ephemeral; capturing and comprehending them required infinite patience. Hebe had toiled for nearly a century to manifest even the phantoms of these new godhoods. To truly solidify them, she still had much work to do.
If any other Olympian deity heard of this, they would undoubtedly think her mad. Gods possessed eternal life and youth; pleasure was the primary theme of their existence. Most couldn't endure the life of an ascetic for two weeks, let alone a century.
But Hebe had done it. From the moment she realized she was Hebe, and recalled the "glorious deeds" of the Greek gods from her past life's internet, she made a choice.
She would not sit idly by and wait for fate to claim her. As for the job of "pouring wine for the gods"? Anyone else could do it. She was done.
After all...
A flicker of irony flashed in Hebe's eyes.
Until she gained the strength to stand against her "dear father," she could not afford to relax.
"My sister, Hebe of the Youth, what has you so lost in thought?"
A deep, brash voice rang out from behind her. Steady footsteps accompanied by the clatter of silver armor crunched over the grass and flowers.
At the sound, Hebe instantly snapped out of her reflections. She fixed a smile on her face and turned around.
It was a titan of a man, a god clad in silver armor stained with blood. A battle-axe was slung over his shoulder, and his robust, bronze skin paired with his ruggedly handsome face exuded a fierce hardiness. His dark red eyes flickered with a murderous aura—a masculine beauty defined by blood and war.
"Ares, have you been out hunting monsters again?"
The newcomer was the second son of Zeus and Hera, Hebe's older brother: Ares, the God of War.
Legend says that during the Titanomachy—the war that shifted divine power to the current generation—Hera had walked across a battlefield. There, she accidentally touched a "Flower of War," a blossom condensed from the slaughter and blood of the conflict. Through this, she became pregnant and gave birth to the god of fire and bloodshed—Ares.
"You're injured?" Hebe frowned. She could smell the scent of divine blood on his armor. Monsters did not bleed the ichor of the gods.
"Mm. This batch of monsters were the spawn of Typhon. They were a bit troublesome. I took a hit during the fray."
As he spoke, Ares carelessly shrugged off his armor, exposing his massive, muscular back to his sister.
Typhon was the youngest son of Gaia and Tartarus. He and his wife, the serpent-tailed Echidna, had sired many of the world's most terrifying beasts. Since the new generation of Olympians had taken power—specifically after Zeus overthrew his father, Cronus, and cast him into the darkness of Tartarus—Gaia had been less than friendly toward her grandson. She frequently directed Typhon's brood to wreak havoc in the lands where the gods held their faith.
As the God of War, the task of slaying these monsters naturally fell to Ares.
"Sss! You call this a minor injury? Ares! There is a limit to acting tough!" Hebe hissed through her teeth as she saw a gash stretching from his shoulder to his waist, currently oozing a foul black mist.
"Father is truly something else... he couldn't even be bothered to send someone to help you. Meanwhile, his various bastards are enjoying themselves up here on the mountain."
Hebe raised her hand, summoning the golden chalice to aid her. The Spring of Youth gushed forth as Hebe cast a divine spell to amplify its healing and purifying properties.
The milk-white divine water poured over Ares's powerful physique. Upon the jagged, hideous wound, the black miasma hissed and evaporated into steam under the rinse of the spring.
Under the soothing influence of the waters, the wound on Ares's back closed rapidly and scabbed over. Moments later, the scabs fell away, revealing fresh, tender skin beneath.
"Those weaklings? They'd only get in the way." Ares's eyes flashed with disdain. He held no respect for the illegitimate children Zeus had brought up to Olympus.
If anyone among them had actual talent, it was that fellow Apollo. The rest? Ares could flatten them with a single punch.
"Never mind them. My sister, it seems you haven't been slacking off. Your speed in purification and healing is getting faster. It won't be long before you can solidify these two offices." Ares looked at his youngest sister with a mix of admiration and pity. Not every god possessed Hebe's resolve to reject the temptations of pleasure.
"Yes. I should be able to attempt condensing the new godhoods soon. With the support of these two, I should be able to ascend to the ranks of the second-tier deities."
Hebe's eyes shone with joy. Nearly a century of effort was finally about to bear fruit. How could she not be thrilled?
"In truth, you don't need to work this hard. Hephaestus and I can protect you."
Ares ruffled Hebe's soft golden hair. Their mother, Hera, was the Goddess of Marriage and Childbirth; she placed great importance on maintaining the relationships between her children. Under her guidance, the siblings had always remained close, trusting one another implicitly.
"Brother, I appreciate the sentiment." Hebe shook her head with a light smile, her youthful, delicate face showing a streak of pride and confidence. "I am the daughter of the ox-eyed Hera and the noble King of Gods. I have no desire to be a frail dependent living in the shadow of others. Everything I desire, I will seize with my own hands!"
"Good! That's the spirit! Truly a sister of Ares!" Ares boomed in praise. As the god of conflict and war, while he pitied his sister, he admired a fighting spirit above all else. If Hebe had simply hidden under his wing like a cowardly dodder flower, he wouldn't have cherished or respected her nearly as much.
"In that case, I'm heading down to the mortal realm in a few days to clear out some monster nests. You're coming with me. It might help your breakthrough." Ares slapped Hebe's shoulder with a hand the size of a fan. If his sister wanted to improve, he was going to support her. "Besides, I want to see how that archery I taught you is coming along. Don't let me catch you slacking."
"I know, Brother."
Hebe's mouth twitched. When Ares got excited, he had no idea how much strength he was using. If the body of a deity weren't so resilient, those few slaps would have had a mortal coughing up blood.
Nevertheless, the prospect of monster hunting excited her. She had been in this world for so long without a chance to actually fight; her hands were practically itching for action.