The Mortal God of Olympus Ch.35 (Patreon)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Chapter 35- Braving the Sea of Monsters

AN: Beta'd by Basilisk, Lord Shiva, and Kaladin1707!

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The sound of his hammer falling upon the anvil was easily the sweetest melody Hephaestus has ever heard—simply never failing to bring in that familiar sense of comfort. And that held true even in times of war, especially in times of war; something he had no doubt was heading their way. It was written in the fires and bellowed by the wind gods. It was foreseen by the seers and riddled within prophecies.

A war was coming for the gods of Olympus. And they must be prepared, lest they meet their end as the Titans before them had.

A good thing then that their King—and all the other gods—had already begun preparing for it. A surprising development truly; for he held as much faith in his family as he did in his enemies. Still, he would play his part. No one can fault him when they all had their own way to contribute to the efforts, and Hephaestus’ way just happened to be from inside his forge.

Not that it was any less important.

Where Artemis preferred to scout and hunt their enemies, Hephaestus worked his forge in building weapons of mass destruction. Where Athena sat in the council and planned her strategies for the coming battles, Hephaestus helped by arming gods and goddesses with new weapons and armors—he was especially proud of the special chariot he’d finally finished crafting for the Lord of the dead. Where Hermes traveled from pantheon to pantheon carrying Zeus’ message, Hephaestus ignored the world at large and focused his entire being into making something…special.

Special enough to trump all his other creations. Special enough to become his main project for the war; his masterpiece—or as mortals called it, his magnum opus—and hopefully, his ticket to the title of the world's greatest blacksmith if not creator.

And so he struck away at the anvil below him with an unmatched intensity, feeling a long-lost excitement brewing within the confines of his chest as with each strike, his divine fire breathed life into his work. The searing heat grew to such levels that it threatened to melt the lesser metals around him, but his focus was sharper than the best of his swords, not to be distracted so easily.

He did not know when the first true battle in this war would start, but he knew his creation must be ready before then…along with its wielder.

Hephaestus came to a brief halt, picking up the mixture of Divine metals glowing red and purple with his naked fingers and giving it a thorough examination, his mind wandering to his true goal.

Others might see this war as something to be feared and avoided, but Hephaestus saw only the true opportunities that lay within it. While he did feel slightly sympathetic for the mortal lives that would surely extinguish as collateral, he could easily overlook it for the chance this war was about to give him. A chance that he’d asked dearly for dozens of centuries…

A chance to see his creation finally joining the ranks of legends. To be spoken of in the same breath as Mjolnir, the Lightning Bolt, Gungnir, Excalibur…

Long had the question troubled his godly soul; why did none of his creations ever get the credit he felt they deserved? Were they truly not capable of clashing against the likes of Poseidon’s Trident? Were his skills truly no match for the Elder Cyclops? Or the Dwarves of Niðavellir?

It was only in the recent millennium that he realized the truth.

The problem wasn’t in his creations…but in their wielders.

His creations were every bit as powerful as the weapons of the Big Three. The Golden Bow that he’d crafted for Apollo, for instance, had the power to spread plague and pestilence across the world. As a punishing god, Apollo had laid waste to entire kingdoms and empires using the weapon whenever it struck his fancy. There was even a time that Apollo was considered to be by far the most feared god in Olympus.

Yet, the Golden Bow never received its due credit. Hephaestus did not receive his due credit. What did Gungnir, a spear with no greater ability than its ever-piercing tip, have in front of a bow that birthed the first plague? Nothing!

And yet, the name Gungnir was easily the more recognizable one amongst the gods.

It was only later that Hephaestus realized. The blame did not fall upon the weapon…but upon its wielder. Apollo simply couldn’t hope to match the legend of Odin, and thus his weapon too remained under the shadow of a greater legend.

‘My creations aren’t being represented to their full potential.’

This was the reason why Aegis proved to be one of his more successful creations; bringing him attention unlike any other.

‘It was because of the gods using it.’ Hephaestus had long concluded.

Zeus, and then Athena; both made fearsome use of the shield in the battlefield, striking true terror in the hearts of many.

But Hephaestus wasn't satisfied. Aegis may be highly regarded amongst many, but it wasn't his best. His best was currently rotting in the hands of a god who would rather serenade his way through the enemies, and a goddess who only hunted under the shadows of night, away from prying eyes.

But not for longer.

Hephaestus grunted, letting his domain increase the temperature of the Celestial Bronze metal beneath him as he hammered away at it again—infusing its essence to another divine metal; Stygian Iron. The Armor was beginning to take shape now. Even though it was in its most basic form, devoid of any specialty or divinity—save for the natural power of the metals—it was still better than the final products he'd delivered to most of the minor gods.

And yet, it isn't even worth being called a prototype. The unique piece of metal—shaped like a misshapen breastplate—simply acted as a sample, just like the dozens of combinations he'd already prepared before it. From combining Imperial Gold with Bone Steel—the divine metal of Norse—to Meteoric Iron with Adamantine, Hephaestus was unwilling to leave any stone unturned in his quest to find the perfect combination for an armor of…specific capabilities. Even if it meant using his limited supply of incredibly rare materials.

The god of blacksmith was going all in on this project, for there was no way he could do any less for this big of an opportunity.

Not after years of waiting in anguish. Not when he'd finally found a wielder worthy enough to hold his best….

Mikael Gabrielson.

A young god who was growing incredibly powerful, incredibly quickly. Someone whose legend was already circulating amongst the ‘supernatural’ world.

Hephaestus had long since concluded that a weapon could only be as popular as the god, and he had a feeling that the young Olympian would one day join the ranks of Poseidon and Thor.

And what better way for the world to recognize his creation than being wielded at the hands of a new, powerful god? One who was not afraid to shake things up, one who hungered for glory and power…one who was itching to prove his might, and had already shown himself worthy.

Mikael Gabrielson was about to take the world by storm, and what better way to do so than to usher this era into a new beginning…by unleashing his creations’ true power and potential!

It was a good thing the boy already carried a weapon of his making, though Hephaestus wasn’t truly proud of it…not in the same way he’d been when he’d finished crafting the Golden Bow. Stormbreaker—as the young god had named it—was capable of quite a few powerful feats; from projecting Mikael’s power, and even enhancing it further, to changing its form. But it wasn’t as great as the twin bows.

He intended for the Armor to change that.

By the time he was done, he planned for the young god to be garbed in the most powerful armor Hephaestus could hope to create. And by the time Mikael was done, he hoped to be called the greatest blacksmith in the world. He hoped to gain the worship of other pantheons, and to become the most prized creator for not only the Olympians, but all the gods alive.

And this war should provide a perfect opportunity for that.

Hephaestus dropped his hammer abruptly, a sudden intrusion in the castle taking his attention. Inside his seat of power, his senses were almost omnipotent, quickly picking up on the white robed figure that dared enter his home unannounced…

Oh.

‘And the Wielder arrives…’ Lips tugging up, he opened a path for the intruder—straight to the belly of the castle. The next instant, his second favorite Olympian announced his presence with a whoosh of swirling air, tiny crackles of lightning slithering around his body as he came to a halt.

Hephaestus chuckled at the dramatic entrance. “No one to impress here, lad. Take care not to break my house apart.”

“Hephaestus.” The boy greeted, his smile more blinding than Apollo’s. “You know why I’m here, right?”

Even with wisdom worth thousands of years under his belt, Hephaestus still couldn’t fully suppress a slight pang of envy at the younger god’s natural beauty. He didn’t look like he was even trying to be charming like Apollo. Had he gained a fraction of the boy’s looks, he would’ve surely won a place within the ‘Top ten most handsome gods around the globe’ competition…enough to perhaps salvage the shambles his marriage had become.

He shook away the thought. Long since had he come to terms with his own deformity, so much so that he didn’t even bother changing his mortal appearance to look a little less wretched anymore.

It was just how the world was, and he’d accepted his place within it a long time ago…even if he was hit by an occasional pang of envy…

‘Some gods have all the luck.’ He lamented, not for the first time.

“I have a quest to attend so we’ll need to make this short.” One such lucky god butted in on his self-pity.

Grunting, he extended his divinity and commanded his creations to be suspended in place, walking off of his metal seat to approach the young god. “Aye, lad. Already got the forge working.”

“No wonder it's hotter than hell in here.” The boy shook his head, glancing around the forge. “Hades would be proud.”

Hephaestus snorted, letting the furnace cool down, before turning to the young god again.

His eyes looked the boy up and down; dressed in loose black pants and a white hip-length robe, he did not look Greek in any shape or form. And yet, there was a terrifyingly powerful aura around him, an aura that warned any from underestimating him; letting off a sense of Holiness, creation, and desire. The power he exuded around him…Hephaestus had only ever seen in the Elder six—the children of Kronos.

“You’ve grown quickly, lad.” He rumbled, moving over to his collection of metallic samples. “Some may fear too quickly.”

The boy scoffed. “And these ‘some’ won’t happen to be gods, would they?”

Hephaestus shrugged, picking out the crystal container. “No other opinions worth knowing.”

“Well, I’m not really worried.” Mikael shuffled after him. “They’ll be fools to air their grievances at times like these.”

The god of forges snorted. “Never underestimate an immortal’s arrogance, lad. War comes and goes for us like another passing day. We know this one would be much more dangerous of course, but some fools wouldn’t believe that.”

“That’s alright.” A dark amusement lit up in the new Olympian’s voice. “I’m sure I can handle some fools.”

Surprising though it was to admit, Hephaestus had no doubt he could. Minor gods should merely be annoyances for the Gabrielson now. Fates, even he felt like a bug sharing the same room with him. The lad in front of him felt similar to Poseidon in his mortal form. Hell, even more powerful than Poseidon’s mortal form.

‘And here I was, mere four years ago, doubting his capability in matching Ares.’

Shows how fickle Fates could be.

Then again, the Fates seemed to avoid the lad like a plague…perhaps they just wanted to avoid the exact bullshit like this.

Shaking his head, he waved the boy over. "Hop over and take a look at this."

There were four samples in total, sitting innocently in their prescribed crystalline seats that were specifically designed to be utterly unreactive to godly metals.

"You've got five options to choose from." Hephaestus started. "Your Armor's capabilities will depend on your selection."

Mikael hummed, sparkling blue and violet eyes skidding over his creations. "I sense a large Mystiokinetic difference in all of them."

Hephaestus raised a bushy brow, a little surprised. "Spot on you are, lad. There's a difference alright. I'll walk you over it."

The first metal he dislodged looked like a translucent white bone, glinting with a sinister charm.

"The Adamantine and Bone steel combo is the hardest and strongest in here. If you want an unbreakable Armor that could survive beatings from gods beyond your level, look no further. Adamantine-steel—as I like to call it—has got you covered."

He put the metal back in place and removed the next.

"But if you’re looking for something that can channel a whole lot of energy and trigger abilities that no sane armor has any business having, then this one here will sort you out; a mixture of Meteoric Iron and Celestial Bronze. This would be the easiest for me to work with if you want specific adjustments to its designs. Like a self-separating gap for your wings to pop out of, or an armor that shifts its shape according to your will. Basically, the previous one was brute protection, this one's magical."

Before he could continue to the third stone, Mikael surged forward and placed his hands above the table—palm down.

"Let's make this shorter." The boy said, and a female head, two beastly heads, and a golden cloak suddenly materialized upon the table. "These are the parts you told me to collect, along with Ladon’s head. I just want a full body armor—with the same color scheme as my spear—that can let me use complete functions of my abilities, including the wings. I trust you with the rest."

Hephaestus' snorted, lips curved up. "Any other god would be dancing to see what new toy they could get. But not you lad, eh? Though you can bet I'll repay this trust a dozen folds."

"Well, you can repay some of that now." The boy smirked mysteriously.

With great grandeur, he held out a hand as if presenting something otherworldly. Then he flexed his fingers and suddenly a spear of magnificent beauty materialized within his palm. "May I present to you, the greatest, the sexiest—"

"True Longinus." Hephaestus breathed out, stunned.

“Oh well…yeah. You’re no fun.”

For a moment his brain refused to accept the sight…and then his emotions started to go haywire.. 'No, no, no…why!?' He raged in his mind. 'How can Fate be so cruel to me!?'

Just when he’d started to get his hopes up, the world coalesced together and dashed them into dust.

It was a struggle to calm his mind, but he forced the one question biting his heart out through clenched teeth. "Where did you get it?"

"Took it from a mortal." The boy twirled his spear, tracing golden arcs through the air. “Not that it was his to begin with, of course.”

‘Fates be cursed. How in Ouranos' severed balls am I supposed to compete with that?’ This spat of Hercules once again; where the breastplate Hephaestus had created for him was overshadowed by his simple wooden club.

Not that the True Longinus was simple, far from it. The only reason its legend did not match or surpass Mjolnir was due to its stipulation of being reserved for humanity's heroes. How on Earth a god of Olympus was able to wield it without a speck of human blood was anyone's guess.

That aroused another startlingly dreadful question within him.

"What will you do with Stormbreaker now?" Hephaestus had to force himself to ask, a part of him painfully aware the boy could just decide to gift it to his sister if he ever succeeded in reviving her…

The young god shrugged. "I was hoping you'd have an answer." The spear of Longinus was replaced by Stormbreaker in his hands. "Maybe you can add a shield mode in there? I'd be happy to change my style to accommodate it."

Well, that was better than he’d expected.

Hephaestus' brain started whirling, scrambling to salvage the situation. "...Or maybe I can add it to the Armor…grant it offensive capabilities, laced with even powerful poison…”

“I leave it to your capable hands.” Mikael said, dropping the weapon. “I’m quite fond of it, you know? It reminds me of my mother. It would be a great shame if it isn’t a part of me.”

Hephaestus grunted, his mind far away from the present. “This will take time. At least a week. Maybe more.”

“I’ll be busy for the next couple of days at least. Though it’ll be nice to have it ready before I leave to meet the Angels and devils.”

With an absent wave of his hand, he dismissed the troublesome god, his focus entirely upon the blue and white spear.

‘Well, it seems my work will be a touch more complicated…’

A good thing then that Hephaestus truly adored a challenging prospect.

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The business with Hephaestus finally resolved my last reason to stick around the Divine city. Having already said my goodbyes to Anna lite and Percy—along with ordering the rest of the camp to prepare—the only thing I needed now was to reach my destination. Thus, barely a minute past my departure from the God of Blacksmiths’ castle, I tore through the Olympus’ firmament like a hypersonic jet, heading straight for the mysterious waters of Bermuda triangle, or as the Greeks liked to call it; the Sea of Monsters.

Honestly, I wasn’t in any true hurry. While the war loomed closer than ever, there hadn’t been any actual attacks as of yet. At my fastest, it would've barely taken a fractional second to cross the entire land and soar above the Sea waters. But finding the Fleece wasn't my only mission for today, so I took my sweet time while mentally planning my timetable for what was sure to be a very eventful day.

Now that the mega series of quests were complete, and with no god to spy upon me without my knowledge, I finally had some quality time to explore my newly gained powers.

[Authority of Beauty and Desire]

[Authority of Holy Power]

[Authority of Energy Creation]

The skills did not have a level for some reason, acting like passive effects. While I wasn’t exactly starting from the absolute bottom—having already exercised my Authority over Desire and Holy Power with quite successful results—I was still far, far away from mastering the abilities. Though with my divinity giving me an instinctive grasp over my newly gained skills, I expected it to go much faster than normal.

How hard could it truly be, right?

Right.

This was one of the few reasons I had not wanted Ares to take his Divine form. I may have still won with my hax abilities—even as a Tier 7—but Ares had thousands of years to master his Authority over his chosen domains. It would've been foolish to dive into a battle with an opponent who was not only 8 times stronger and faster than me, but also had unknown divine abilities stashed away in his big-ass forehead.

Of course, I wasn’t as worried about those unknown abilities now that I surpass him in raw power and physicality. I actually held complete confidence in absolutely demolishing him—or any other True god—in their Divine form right now. With my 6-winged angelic form giving me 40 points now, the True Longinus further enhancing my prowess greatly, and my own Divine Form—albeit much weaker—ready to be unleashed at any time, I was probably the most overpowered True god right now.

[Angelic Form—Six-Winged Angel]

• Increases Strength and Power according to wings unlocked [Passive]
• Increases all physical stats by 40 upon unleashing your wings [Active]

And;

True Longinus (Celestial): Holy Spear of the Setting Sun, the Spear of Destiny and the Spear/Lance of Longinus, is the first and most powerful Longinus and the same spear which St. Longinus used to stab Jesus Christ. The weapon increases the User's control and Authority over Holy Power and Creation.

• 50 points to Spirit
• 30 points to all physical stats

And;

Divine Domain (Lvl 3): +30 to all physical stats, +30 to Spirit

Through sheer bonuses, I had over 100 points of physical and 80 points of Spirit stats! And this was discounting the 10 to Strength from Hercules’ Perk.

Mikael

Age: 13

Race: God/Angel/Devil Hybrid

Tier: 8

Level: 744

Divine Power: 8,970,000/8,970,000

Holy Power: 8,970,000/8,970,000

Demonic Power: 8,970,000/8,970,000

Stamina: 8,440,000/8,440,000

Health: 8,640,000/8,640,000

Stats

Strength: 774 (+100)

Speed: 784 (+100)

Dexterity: 774 (+100)

Endurance: 744 (+100)

Constitution: 764 (+100)

Mental: 53 (+2)

Spirit: 817 (+80)

Points: 20

‘Gods, I love my system.’

Definitely the most overpowered True god, and this was without adding my even more overpowered abilities.

Hell, with my raw power at the peak of Elder gods, I doubted any save for Tier 9s and above could hope to defeat the current me, and considering I’d once thought Ddraig, another Tier 9 being, to be the epitome of this world, that was saying something. Just a week ago, it would’ve been so easy to let that get to my head; having climbed the ranks of this world so rapidly: from Tier 1 to Tier 8 in just seven years.

But my ultimate goal was still firm in my mind, and I had a long path to walk before I could hope to achieve it.

And the first step of that path, I believed, was mastering my domains.

‘Let’s get even more op.’

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Three days ago

These cold and clammy hands, smelling of human sweat and rustic blood. This weak and tiny body, prone to mortal callings of waste expulsion that oozed out an incredibly horrible stench. This childish face; young and beardless, and so utterly human. Everything about this new mortal body disgusted the King of the Titans, and had it not been so uniquely suited for his needs, he would’ve crushed the pitiful thing and looked for something better to possess.

How could the mortals live with themselves without attempting to end their own pitiful existence was a mystery to Kronos; one that he looked to be stuck with for the foreseeable future. Well…at least, until his eventual rise to power.

‘But it would do for now’ Kronos convinced himself half-heartedly, sighing in silent agony. ‘It would have to.’

At least Luke Castellan was a passable Demigod, and their already established connection—along with his half-dead status upon arrival—had made it easier for Kronos to possess him. The curse of Infinity further enhanced the body—having stitched the fatal wounds he’d sustained in his escape—making it match the might of the broods from his three sons…his grandchildren. Now all he needed to do was use the boy’s subdued spirit to bathe in the River Styx, and he may finally be able to exercise a whisper of his former might through the power this body would carry…

The Titan God of Time grimaced, realizing even his thoughts were slow and subdued within this disgustingly weak body. It would’ve been so much easier had he possessed one of Zeus’ brats. Then again, had Gaia done her job correctly he just might have. Instead, her daft champion had ended up killing the sibling whose dreams he’d just begun corrupting, while the other one—completely immune to his influence for some asinine reason—went on to gather absurd amounts of power in the blink of an eye, no doubt fated to become a thorn in Kronos’ side now.

Many a long nights had the crooked one spent lamenting the lost opportunity. Had he somehow managed to gain control over Mikael Gabrielson, he wouldn’t be needing this pathetic body—or even Ophis’ help, for that matter—right now. The boy had grown from an insect to a threat in front of his very eyes, and there was nothing Kronos had been able to do.

Still, not all was lost. He was here now, after millennia of struggle for freedom, having assembled his splintered soul piece by piece over the centuries in that cursed hole.

With the help of his new allies, it was only a matter of time before he retook his rightful throne and devoured his children once more. Only this time, he wouldn’t leave anything up to Fate. This time, he wouldn’t forget to chew properly. He must live up to his title of King Cannibal after all, mustn't he?

People had this ridiculous idea of some blasted Prophecy forcing his mouth against his children. Lies, all of them! Only a fool would believe any of his children could ever hope to surpass him. No, the true reason he’d devoured his children so long ago was simple...

He had been hungry.

When he’d first held his daughter, his firstborn, on the crook of his elbow…laid eyes upon the perfect bundle of flesh and ichor named Hestia…he’d known instantly. Whatever being his sister-wife had birthed, its texture and taste was fated to surpass anything he’d ever experienced. That soft, juicy morsel of Divinity, looking so enticing under the moonlight…there was only so much he could do until his restraints snapped and he ended up popping the candy-sized Hestia down his parched throat.

And once he’d got started, once he’d got a taste for the Divine flesh…there had been no turning back. One by one he devoured all the tiny cracklings as soon as they were out of his wife’s womb, quickly getting addicted to the taste of his children.

Kronos sighed. 'At least I’ll get a chance to relive those moments again…’

“Why, my young friend.” A sly voice suddenly sang behind his ears. “You look mortally depressed.”

Kronos did not let himself seem startled, no matter how much the sudden presence and power of the voice discomforted him. ‘Curse this weak body, it even breathes cowardness into me.’

His eyes flickered to the side, lips curling up in recognition as he took in the unnamed assailant that came sauntering to the fore, a dance hidden within its steps.

“Loki of…Asgard.” Kronos purred, a half-smirk half-sneer fixed on his face, forcibly dismissing the irritation at his boyish voice. “It does not surprise me that you would sell your soul to the Dragon in return for your freedom. Must’ve been tiring, locked away in the cave, awaiting your fated death at a lesser god’s hands.”

If the god was surprised by his knowledge he didn’t show it, simply tilting his head mockingly, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Such venomous words from someone so…young and weak. What would your mother say, child? Oh! If only I knew your name, Mr…?”

“You will not take me for a fool, godling.” The Titan snarled, his new white teeth full on display. “You were but a boy when I peered within that twisted Jotnar head of yours.”

“Tried.” The infuriating god drawled. “Tried to enter my dreams—a god of magic’s, I might add—like a fool. It must’ve taken all your Titanic might to not go insane. A commendable attempt, nonetheless. You almost earned my respect that night.”

Kronos suppressed his rapidly growing temper, sitting back calmly to study the god with a careful eye. “You do not fear me, Asgardian. That is…interesting. At the height of my power, your entire pantheon would have to bow before me in supplication. You would be lucky to survive my sneeze.”

“Ah, well,” Loki took a seat beside him on the table, both of them ignoring the guests assembling around them. “You aren’t quite at the height of your power, are you? And I’m not an Asgardian. For all your supposed power, you seem woefully ignorant, Kronos.”

The Titan had to remind himself of his new status to stop bursting out at the god. As he was now, he’d consider himself lucky in surviving a fight with a minor deity. And infuriating though he was, Loki of Asgard was certainly far above a minor deity.

"I will not engage a god in some battle of petty insults." Kronos settled in declaring, before turning away from the deity, eyes flickering around the house of Ophis.

"And what a shame that is."

It was a massive globe-like chamber, dark and quiet. Silence seemed to have life of its own; treasured above all in this place. A grand ornate table stood in the middle, with the assembled guests seated around. At the head was a majestic throne in shades of violet and black, something he would consider suitable for his status…had he been his former self.

Even with his drastically reduced senses, there was no doubt in his mind that they were outside Gaia’s realm. He could feel a void-like presence outside the chamber, a hint of gaping wide nothingness.

“Look at them.” His neighbor prodded. “Peculiar, is it not? Sitting with beings so far below you?”

Kronos glanced at the god, before turning to where his gaze lay. At the lower end of the table was a small group of devils and humans, all quiet and somber, shrouded within a globe of self-important gravity.

“Filth and insects.” Kronos grimaced. “I see not what they could hope to give to our cause.”

"They were the ones to free me." Loki offered, smiling. "Human magicians, so weak I wouldn't give them a second glance. They stole the sword Skufnung along with its stone, they found my cave with just a little guidance from me, and they struck me free from my bindings, offering me a deal from the Infinity itself, a deal I cannot refuse."

With his smile turning to another infuriating smirk, the god leaned closer. "I hear something similar happened to you, Lord Kronos?"

Kronos ignored him.

The god leaned even closer. “If I may ask, what is this cause that you speak about, great Titan?”

The Titan King finally met his eyes, grunting “You shall know soon enough.”

The stifling aura that suddenly filled the chamber from corner to corner snapped the God of Mischief’s mouth shut, forcing both to turn to the fore.

Standing less than five feet tall, the child that struggled to climb up her throne could never hope to be mistaken for a mighty Dragon God. Not that anyone would dare underestimate her; the sheer raw power that swirled around her tiny body was like an inevitable avalanche threatening to drown every being present in the room at the barest of disturbances.

To the Ouroboros Dragon, they must all look equally pathetic.

It birthed a rare sense of helplessness within him. Here he was, lesser than he ever was, sitting in front of a being just as—if not more—powerful than Gaia and Ouranos.

Only the knowledge of the ancient treaties binding her actions gave him enough comfort to not stand up and look for an exit.

“I, command you to sit.” Her words were quiet, forcing some of the weaker creatures to strain their ears. But the effect it had on the room was instant; all the shuffling members quickly finding themselves a seat.

For a few precious seconds, the world—or whatever dimension they were within—came to a halt, patiently awaiting the words of the Infinity. Maintaining her silence, the Dragon God simply glanced at a slightly strong cretin…who was actually still stronger than the current him, curse Ouranos' severed balls!

Without being prompted, the cretin stood up and bowed dutifully.

"My lady," The cretin's eyes flickered towards them once, before straightening his spine to stand taller. "I'm afraid to say Cao Cao was killed in the last mission. Only two from the Hero faction managed to escape. It would seem that Mikael Gabrielson is much more powerful than originally led to believe."

Kronos grunted irritably. "He is an Olympian now. But strong he may be, he hasn't yet formed a true Divine Form. I suggest you take advantage of his weakness while it lasts. For I doubt even our new friend here could hope to lay him low then."

"Fascinating!” Loki perked up beside him, seeming to take no offense. "A new god with such power…you must’ve already tried to entice him to our side, no? And from your twitching eyes…I take it you failed?”

Kronos huffed. “He’s as arrogant as his father! I do not need him!"

The god of mischief hummed. “You seem to know much about him."

Of course he did. He'd seen the entire thing from Ares' eyes. The fight, the victory, and the eventual ascension as an Olympian. It had been a harsh defeat for Kronos, losing a powerful pawn like Ares…

Had he known the boy could wield the Bolt with such mastery, he wouldn't have stopped that weakling of a war god from taking his Divine form.

Nonetheless, Ares had served his purpose.

Now if only someone could take care of the boy-god before he grew even further…

“I don’t waste time on lost causes." Kronos finally responded to the curious god. "The time for diplomacy is over. We must make a point if I…we are to win this war.”

“War?” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Has Ragnarok arrived while I wasn’t looking?”

“Ragnarok…" Kronos mused. "Does it not start with your freedom? Perhaps this is Ragnarok.”

The god chuckled. “Unless Midgard is frozen solid and all but two humans are dead, I really doubt it. The idea however, I must confess, is quite enticing to behold.”

Kronos never got the chance to reply as a wave of power suddenly came to dominate the chamber.

"Silence." Ophis commanded, and just like always, it was heeded without question. "Kronos must reclaim his power if he is to be of any use to me. I, will hear your plans for it."

The implication that he was currently useless rankled his pride, but he swallowed the indignity and marched forward. "We must destroy Olympus for that to happen, and the gods are our biggest enemies. I will gather my army of Titans at once, and with a…little assistance, crushing the Olympians would be child's play."

"If I may suggest, my lady?" Loki spoke up, the respect in his voice making Kronos envious. "My children could be of great help in this war…let me set Fenrir free. He would love to spill some divine blood, be it Norse or Greek."

"I…was hoping you could help us instead, Lord Loki." The still-standing devil cretin butted in. "As Lord Kronos said, it would be foolish to let Mikael Gabrielson grow stronger. He has already defeated two of our core members and has shown considerable progress in a matter of months. My faction has been successful in every task given to us, and we would soon free Apophis from his cage as well. But I believe this task takes priority. With your help, we could successfully deal with—”

“That will not be necessary.” Kronos interrupted the insect’s chattering.  “There are gods willing to join me already, to rebel against the tyrants. This shall be a great initiation test to prove their worth.”

There was something deeper in the devil’s goal, he knew. It was easy to recognize really; a dark greed and excitement that the worm seemed to feel at the thought of Gabrielson’s death.

Kronos couldn’t care less. He simply wanted the baby god to be dealt with.

It took all his will to contain the glee spreading within his chest as he realized how smoothly his plans were proceeding. Fenrir, Apophis, Typhon…all creatures of respectable power, and all available for war at his disposal.

The sole reason for their loss in the last war was due to their own overconfidence and lack of allies. With the gods gaining the support of those disgusting hundred-armed wretches and carrying uber-powerful weapons, there was only so much Kronos and his outnumbered army could have done. Even he was eventually laid low by the combined might of his three sons and their shiny new weapons.

Now? Now he had no lack of powerful allies. Now it was his time to show exactly why he was once considered the supreme ruler of the universe. With the power and resources at his disposal, Kronos was confident in conquering the entire world, let alone the puny kingdom of gods.

It was time to free his fellow Titans and march for war. It was time for revenge, for the total annihilation of the beings who’d caused them much agony over the millennia.

As for his promise to the Dragon of Infinity…well, he already had some experience in that. Beings like Great Red may not be opponents Kronos could hope to match alone, but he had killed Ouranos all the same. Through trickery and guile, yes, but why would that matter? He wouldn’t be alone in the fight, with Infinity herself by his side. The rest of her army would simply be too much for a single overgrown lizard.

Worse comes to worst, he would fall victim to the Apocalypse Dragon and spend a few centuries recovering in Tartarus, his oath to Infinity complete either way. As long as his army defended his throne, it would be a small price to pay for his freedom and power.

Kronos let a pleased smile curve upon his face as Ophis proceeded to give the same orders.

Even this body didn’t feel as disgusting for some reason anymore.

Things were looking up for the King of Titans, and there was no one who could hope to ruin it.

----------------------------

It was a searing hot day, the sun overhead casting its heat upon my soft feathery wings like a shower of laser beams. The only comfort I got was through my own resistances and the constant gusts of cool wind blasting upon my body with great turbulence.

Feeling terribly free for the first time in a long while, I soared close to the water, the crushing weight of the air energizing me for the journey as I eyed my murky self staring back at me; six wide wings flapped back lazily, whiter than bone, with beautiful trails of black, blue, and gold. The artistic, almost unrealistic beauty of my wings was something I rarely got a chance to observe.

Had I wanted to, it could’ve all come to a quick and sudden end. A single flex of my wings could've rushed me straight over the treacherous waters of Bermuda instantly. For someone who can fly a circle around the world in less than ten seconds, speed seemed to put a real dampener on any kind of adventurous sense.

Thankfully, I had a reason to take it slow. With Flying (Lvl 10), the amount of attention needed to keep my body afloat was fairly minimal. My body and wings seemed to instinctively know exactly what to do, with me only needing to provide them with a destination and direction. It left my mind free to wander, giving me quality time to explore my powers.

And I made sure to use every second to its full potential; for I certainly wouldn’t be getting that chance in Hell or Heaven, even less so when the first battle of this war erupts.

With that thought firmly in mind, I focused my attention inwards, locating the golden rush of divinity coursing through my veins.

It was a fascinating thing to observe; the relation between my Divinity and Holy energy. The three wells of energies inside my soul were still around the same level of depth and power…the only difference came in my Authority over them.

Divine Power used to be my main go-to energy due to the instinctive grasp of control I felt over it. Now however, the connection I had with Holy Power simply drowned the other two to mediocrity. I knew I could do things with it now that I've only ever dreamt about in the past. Creating Holy Weapons came as easily as breathing, and could no longer provide me any real challenge.

In the past, I'd often wondered if I would ever be able to create a weapon as big as a building, powerful enough to bury it deep within the Earth and tear entire cities apart. Now? Now I knew it to be entirely possible, just a stretch of my Will away. And I knew it wasn't even my limit.

What exactly was my limit then? I had no idea. I only ever used as much power as I needed to, taking care not to create needless destruction. But if I let go of that limitation? If I started raining Holy Lightning upon America until exhaustion? Could I destroy the entire country? Or hell…the entire continent?

I wasn't exactly eager to find out, though I remained…curious.

Shaking my head, I focused back on the task. Willing a strand of Holy Power to wrap around my finger, I began exercising my Authority over it; testing and experimenting.

Holy Power's main function was to cleanse. Whether it be cleansing darkness from evil creatures or cleaning life from my enemies, it all depended upon my Authority. In the past, I didn't have the authority to change its nature. Using a Holy spear against a metallic robot would've rendered much lesser results than using it upon a devil. Now however, I had the ability to cut through metal, humans, and monsters alike, and all it would take was me actively exercising my Authority over it.

Of course, that was a relatively pale example of the true control I now had over the Energy, something that would only increase with the level-ups in my Divine Authority and Domain skills.

Another thing I was only beginning to learn about was my Domains. Apart from control, my Authority over the Domains also enabled me to draw power from the real world, strengthening the energy even further. Just pushing my Will into my Holy attacks now passively strengthened my power.

This one was easy to test; and I spent the next half-a-minute—a long time for me—blasting the Sea with tiny Holy spears, carrying only a speck of my true power—I didn’t actually want to cause a freak disaster after all. There was a very noticeable difference between a normal attack and one filled to the brim with my Authority. My weak ass Holy spear created enough pressure to form a small whirlpool of steaming water that caved inwards. But the one supplied by my Authority created a very visible shockwave that pushed the entire region of water down as if pressed by a great weight, while the point of contact swirled with a powerful cyclone of glowing liquid that slowly dispersed into the wider Sea.

It was feats like these that convinced me of how disastrous my true power could really be. If I created a bloody Holy Lightning Storm right now—and let it rage for a brief millisecond—while supplying it with my Authority…could I create a flood powerful enough to drown the entire US? Or even the whole fucking continent?

‘...With my Divine form active, most likely.’

But that was all slightly more complicated for me to manipulate right now…plus, I felt there was something big about to happen when my Domain finally reached Lvl 5.

‘Hopefully, I get a real Divine form that pushes me to Elder God.’

Until then, however, I needed to master my ability to influence the real world using my Authority over Domains. Being able to manipulate anything with Holiness was just a hax ability, something I'd already used against Cao Cao and his friends. Who knows, perhaps one day I would be able to exercise my control over the angels as well? They were creatures of Holy Power after all.

With that in mind, I spent the rest of my short journey to the Sea of Monsters prodding and understanding my domains and Authority, though only focusing on Holy Power for now.

But even with purposely slowing down, there was only so much time I could receive for crossing a distance of mere thousand miles. Soon enough, I felt a slight pull of Mystiokinesis greeting my arrival, and I quickly flapped my way across the sea.

I knew I was on the right path when the winds started howling and the water began churning. A ring of misty black clouds surrounded a part of the Atlantic Ocean and I drove right past it. My powerful eyesight picked up a lone island in the distance, sitting forlornly within the endless Sea; the first sign of land in the last three minutes, which was actually quite long for a hypersonic flying god.

A narrow channel of water passed by the lonely hill, a mile away from which was a turbulent hurricane that connected Sea to the Sky. Squinting slightly, I peered past the mushroom of mist, smoke, and water to make out a black coral reef with a small fig tree sticking through the top.

It was only when I approached closer did I finally notice the thing anchored to the reef below the hazy waters: a gigantic mouth with slimy lips was using the reef as support. Its mossy rotten teeth, each the size of a small car—with pieces of fish, driftwood, and floating garbage stuck between them—circled the water like a whirlpool, sucking and funneling everything inside the enormous mouth like a black hole, with every breath the monster took.

'Observe'

Charybdis

Race: Monster

Tier: 7 (Minor God)

Level: 674

'Now that's a powerful monster.'

Of course, I could still tear her apart limb from limb with a couple of Holy spears. Not that I wanted to; from what I'd read about the monsters, Charybdis was once a giantess of great beauty and power, winning so much land for her father Poseidon against his war with Zeus, that the enraged King of Gods cursed her into this horrible state permanently.

Scylla, on the other hand, was just a victim of pure jealousy, having been cursed by some stupid bathwater potion from an envious Circe.

Now there might be a teensy part of me hoping to reverse the curse and gain the everlasting affection of two powerful beauties, but most of my non-killing intentions came from my utterly gentlemanly feelings.

So instead of forcing a confrontation with either of the monsters—as I normally would, even if just to collect some trophies—I simply flew past both in a rush of speed, too fast to be impeded by Scylla's confused heads or Charybdis’ whirlpools.

As soon as I crossed the gateway to the Sea of Monsters, I felt a magical pull settling over me; a combination of Mist and Mystiokinesis similar to the invisible field around Olympus or…Lotus Casino.

[Skill Leveled Up: Mist Sense] Lvl 10 (Max)

[Skill Leveled Up: Mystiokinesis Sense] Lvl 10 (Max)

It clicked in my head then that this field was most likely responsible for moving the pantheon’s main power structures around the globe, following in the wake of the Western civilization. I’d never really focused on it before; but if I throw my mind back in time, I could remember a similar field covering the edges of Camp Half-blood as well, albeit to a much lesser degree.

‘Well…good to know.’

As were the two level-ups.

I cast a deep gaze across the waters, realizing my task has just grown infinitely easier. Now that I knew my destination lay inside this magical boundary, I didn’t have to fly over every corner of the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea. I could simply scour through the waters inside the magical field and voila!

Of course, I’d still rather not hover over the Ocean like a flying weirdo, so I headed straight up to the boundless skies, my eyes scouting across the waters in search of any more islands or monsters.

As I scanned my newly broadened horizons, I realized I didn’t even need to search the waters. My eyesight was powerful enough to see incredibly far. I hadn’t realized how far exactly, but from two miles above the Sea level, I could easily make out almost everything the triangle had to offer.

The Sea contained a large number of islands, all spread out across the magical water like a splintered city. Quite a few were hidden under powerful mist and magic, but my eyes were almighty enough to pierce straight through most, quickly giving me an idea of what I would need to search through.

There were many islands with hills and fully grown forests…but the ones that caught my attention were the three largest pieces of land spread out in front of me.

Two were about the same distance from me—roughly 170 miles away, as my senses told me—one to the left, one to the right. The right one looked to have a strong physical mist covering it along with magic—being one of the few places my gaze failed to pierce completely. Behind the right one was another island, even larger, perhaps 340 miles away from where I hovered.

Not that the numbers truly mattered…all three were within eye-blinking distance from me, so it was just the matter of which one I decided to go after first.

I decided to do it methodically, from the largest ones to the smallest ones, sorting them according to the flat lands and the hilly ones.

From the biggest three islands, the one on the left seemed to be the most civilized out of the bunch, with its own harbor parked with strange ships of all time periods.

"I can at least ask the locals for a map." I muttered with a shrug, blasting after my new target without further delay, leaving only a gentle burst of sound barrier behind.

The first thing I instantly divined about the place, at the moment of my arrival, was that something fishy was going on over here and it had nothing to do with being in the Sea…pun completely intended.

At the center of the island stood a large mountain, assorted by a dazzling collection of buildings, all glinting white and shiny under the sunlight. Further down the buildings was an honest to god helipad with a chopper sunbathing over it openly, and just a few dozen meters away from it was a runaway with a Learjet and a propeller plane. At the edge of the island was a beach, all complete with palm trees, a luxurious shade housing a table full of sunscreens and lotion, along with multiple patio furniture and sunloungers staring at the wide Ocean.

Now, I wasn’t usually one to look the gift horse in the mouth, but if you’re telling me you wouldn’t be suspicious of a tropical paradise built in the middle of a Sea full of monsters, I’d call you a fool and give you a stare full of disappointment.

But if one needed further proof that something shady was happening behind those beautiful white buildings, they need only extend their senses afar and feel the thick layer of magic and mist covering every inch of the island. It was as if a blizzard storm had struck the island, just instead of snow, it had left behind traces of Mystiokinesis.

As I started descending down to the ground, a girl dressed like a flight attendant quickly came out to greet me with a wide practiced smile fixed on her face, waiting patiently for my lazy descent. Gorgeously beautiful, and with a regal glint in her bearing, she truly did not seem fit to be a mere servant.

‘Observe’

Hylla Ramírez-Arellano

Age: 17

Race: Demigod (Daughter of Bellona)

Tier: 4

Level: 342

‘Well…things have just gotten a wee bit more interesting.’

----------------------------

"He is here." Circe whispered, face twisting with disgust and a hint of trepidation.

Euclid glanced at his new ally apathetically.  "Your ability to state the obvious is duly noted."

She turned to him, sneering, hatred flaring in her eyes. "Mind your tongue, vermin. You're lucky Mother Hecate vouched for you, or you'd be rotting in a cage somewhere. On my island, the only good male is one kneeling beneath a woman."

Euclid ignored her, both heading out to take their positions. While the goddess remained too powerful an entity for him to make an enemy of, he wasn't quite alone here. The members of Nilrem were spread out around them, each an accomplished magician, powerful in their own right. Under his lead, they could fight on par with a minor god...or even an Olympian in their mortal form. As they were about to do now.

Besides, you'd be a fool to attack your ally just when you're about to engage a powerful god in a life and death battle.

And the witch beside him seemed to know this, accepting his silence with an irritated tsk, muttering under her breath all the while. "This could go so, so wrong. Why did mother even bother tangling with gods?"

Euclid’s lips curled up in disgust, and try though he might, he couldn't help but quip, "Your fear is pathetic."

Knowing her obvious hatred of all things male, he was surprised to see her shoulders trembling a little. "You would say that, wouldn't you? It's not your island we're using as the battleground to fight an Olympian."

"Half-an-Olympian.” He corrected. “Remembe—"

"He doesn't have his Divine form yet. Yes, I know. Doesn't change the fact that Zeus raised him to his position."

Euclid didn't bother comforting her. He'd already squeezed every drop of information that he could from the two surviving members of the Hero faction, preparing for this occasion to the best of his ability.

They'd both begged him to take them along, the fire of revenge raging in their eyes, but he'd ultimately abstained. While they may prove to be powerful assets on the battlefield, he didn't wish to risk the young god's body being more damaged than it needed to...and from the looks on their faces, he was sure they would love nothing more than to suck the marrow out of his bone.

He gave a last check-up to his allies, sharing a nod with his faction members.

While he did not consider Katerea Leviathan and immortal sorceress Circe a good substitute for Loki, he would make do with what he had. He'll have to, if he ever wanted Mikael Gabrielson to be tied up on his research table.

'I'll have to thank Cao Cao one day for his failure.' If not for his rival's untimely death, Ophis might not have given him the permission to hunt down his prey so easily.

But he'd gotten it, and his opportunity was finally here, slowly walking forth into their trap, completely heedless of the danger.

"This had better work." Circe hissed, standing straight.

Euclid nodded, addressing his magicians. "Everyone, prepare yourselves. We will get one chance after the target is trapped under the wards. Do not miss it."

They were on the open ground, hidden from the world under powerful magic cast by the witch. He and his two female allies were standing right in the Olympian's path, with the magicians forming a semicircle around the booby-trapped area; awaiting their prey's folly with bated breath.

Curious, Euclid scanned Mikael up and down, desperate to unearth what exactly made the young god so special.

He was a little surprised to realize just how young the boy truly was. Barely an adult, if not even younger.

The second easiest thing to notice about him was his natural charm and beauty. The devils, as a race, were considered to be generally better looking than mortals, but the being sauntering in front of them made even Euclid feel ugly.

The witch seemed to have similar thoughts if her whistle of appreciation was anything to go by. "You never told me our guest was Adonis reborn. Now I have to keep him here, preferably tied up to my bed like a good little pleasure slave."

Euclid grimaced. He hoped the goddess was joking but he'd be a fool to dismiss her words.

Dressed in a casual white robe that flexed his muscles with every step, the young god came to a stop just outside the range of their trap.

“Ready yourselves.” Circe warned them, and the circle of magicians tightened, now barely ten meters away from their enemy.

But the moment Mikael Gabrielson—just a step away from the binding magical trap set up by his magicians—turned his eyes towards them, he knew something was wrong.

“He senses us.” Euclid announced, a little uncertain.

“What!?” Circe barked. “Impossible! My mastery over mist is second only to Hecate!”

The god glanced around at the magicians as if simply enjoying nature's view, his body relaxed and non-threatening.

Euclid’s heart beat wildly when the strange bluish-violet eyes roamed over him, his breath growing bated. His entire body was screaming at him to escape but he forced a fake calm upon himself and stood firm. ‘Just one more step, please.’

“S-sir?” Circe’s attendant beckoned the Olympian. “The Spa is this way…”

Euclid had to give the girl her due credit. The fear of being the target of an Olympian’s rage— should the god discover their ploy, as he suspected—had to be supreme. Yet, she bowed low with barely a stutter, waving the god forth.

Gabrielson smirked. The next moment an ornate spear with dark blue handle materialized in his palm, while his other hand shot out and clutched the girl, dragging her closer.

"Come out, come out, little rascals." The god sang out, the tip of his spear digging into the stiff girl's chin. "Or this pretty little thing might just end up losing her head."

Circe shot up instantly, and Euclid almost lost his hand due to her sheer strength when he tried to hold her back.

"Not like this, Witch!" He hissed, somehow managing to keep his grip on her shoulder. "This is exactly what he wants! The trap is still alive, we just need to push him in. I'll maneuver my magicians behind him, if you can create some distraction…"

The goddess of magic hesitated, and in that single moment, with a move that shocked even Euclid, Mikael Gabrielson plunged his spear straight through the girl's head, its tip coming out from her skull glinting red and black…

"Well, time's up." The god snorted, throwing the dead body away. "What a shame. She was quite beautiful…"

With a cry of rage, Circe ripped the trap apart like a child's play and surged forward, launching spikes of fire and ice at the god.

"Boring…" Gabrielson grunted, and a wave of his hand stopped the attacks on track, winking them out of existence a moment later. “And predictable.”

“Attack!” Euclid commanded, joining the fight alongside Katerea Leviathan.

But just then the god twirled his spear and a massive ripple of wind blasted them all away.

Euclid didn’t have time to find out what happened to the rest of his allies, for he himself only found his legs a dozen feet away from his original position, bringing a stop to his wild ride through the air.

‘What in the name of Satan’s seven sins…’ Euclid blinked incredulously. This wasn’t the power of a weak god…

“I’ll tell you what, people.” The monster’s voice rang through the island. “I’ve decided you are a good whetting stone for me. So for the duration of our…little friendly scuffle, I shall only use my Divine Authority. Now come at me as if I’ve raped your mothers, and you’re the disappointment that came out as the result.”

'Should I retreat!?'

Not after coming so far.

He accessed his Demonic Power—easily at the peak of Ultimate-class—letting it swirl within his chest, ready to fight what was sure to be the toughest battle of his life.

"Everyone!" He bellowed. "Attack together!"

The displaced magicians found courage in his voice, all surrounding their enemy once again. Curiously, Gabrielson stayed motionless, even as Leviathan took to the air, a golden magical array launching black shadowy tendrils, and Goddess Circe reassembled, rage glinting in the latter's eyes.

And then the land was torn asunder, pure magical might bearing down upon the god of Olympus in one combined fearsome attack.

Glowing chains of fiery steel sought to wrap around his limbs, beams of fire and lightning raised the island's temperature, and utterly life-like illusions tried to trick the god's senses…

The might of the attack was such that Euclid doubted the survival of even a Satan-class being…

And then the impossible happened.

"Break."

----------------------------

"Break." My Authority was supreme, my Might limitless.

The magical attacks bearing down on me heeded my commands, reality itself bowing down to acquiesce to my Will, breaking apart the core of the attacks. The dozens of fiery chains halted in place, their fire disappearing whilst the steel links crumbled into pieces. The shadowy strands from the sky turned to ashes, disappearing away in the air like smoke. The illusions proved to be the toughest, taking a solid second before coming undone—no doubt courtesy of the Minor goddess present amongst them.

The only thing that reached me was lightning, but apart from a slight tingle that energized me even further, it showed no effect.

My enemies gawked open-mouthed, and I wondered if I may have overestimated their worth as adequate training aids.

Sighing, I waved them on. "Come on, now. We've all got places to be I'm sure. Well, I do, you don't have anywhere to go but six feet deeper down the ground."

One of the magicians tried to escape, summoning a green magical array below his feet...

I waved my hand and a thin blade of air cut his body into two pieces, both falling to the opposite sides.

"No one escapes until I say so."

I gazed at my enemies, all standing stunned and cautious, the big three glancing at each other. They were an odd bunch; over a dozen Tier 1 humans with admittedly decent Spirit—ranging from 400 to 450—two peak Ultimate-class devils with the male one's Spirit at a respectable 590, and one Minor goddess with Spirit barely crossing the 600 mark—but currently stuck on 506 due to her mortal form.

The only one who caught my complete attention was the female devil, though more due to how deliciously her massive tits bounced as she slowly flew back to the ground, wide eyes never leaving me. If she had dressed as such in a last-ditch effort to seduce me in hopes of mercy, I must admit she was succeeding. Her wide slit purple dress left a very large portion of her very large breasts—which looked weirdly firm from afar, as if ignoring gravity entirely.

Even the way they jiggled with her every action looked a little exaggerated, as if done solely for my viewing pleasure.

'Well...I'm not one to complain.'

The idea to fight solely using my Authority had come to me as a stroke of pure genius. It had been easy to divine the ambush awaiting me really; the daughter of Bellona’s desire to take her sister and get as far from this island as possible, along with hints of an upcoming battle, were easy enough to read and unravel. Even easier was to sense the trap waiting for me; with level 10 Mystiokinetic sense, I didn’t even need to look particularly hard.

But once I’d scouted the scope of the enemies arrayed against me, I realized I could turn this potentially fun but useless battle into a learning experience.

Hence, the Only-Authority rule.

Unfortunately, it seems even my Authority was overpowered now. Aside from my new family members, I doubted anyone could hope to be a suitable training partner.

And as my enemies got over their shock and assembled anew—restarting the magical bombarding upon me—it got even more clear.

While I didn’t have direct authority over any of the attacks coming towards me—for some reason no one used Holy power here, go figure—my natural Lvl 6 Authority, when paired with my absurdly high raw power, was more than enough to easily wipe out most of the attacks below a Minor god’s level.

Of course, this effect would’ve been drastically enhanced had anyone used Holy Power against me. I wagered only a Tier 9 or 10 being could hope to successfully use Holy Power to hurt me now.

Which is to say; none.

…Unless God reappears somehow.

When I finally replied to my enemies—never once moving from my position—I used weak Holy Spears and supplied them with my Authority. The effects were…still devastating. Even the weakest of my spears carried the might of a Minor god in its Divine form, and my targets had to huddle behind their colorful barriers like helpless turtles. That was about the main three, the humans simply died by the shockwaves a couple of stray Holy spears created when they struck dozens of meters away from them.

Finally Circe seemed to have enough, and uncaring of the mortals present, stepped into her Divine form to exact her revenge.

My Authority finally showed its limits, being unable to command her attacks to disperse. For a few rounds I toyed with my Sacred gear—already at level 6—using it like a spinning blade, or a helicopter’s wings, to create a physical barrier that deflected most of the attacks. But when a group of golden chains suddenly erupted from the ground to wrap around my arms and legs…I let them.

“I have him!” Circe crowed, raising her arms to the skies. “You will pay for what you’ve done, you pathetic man!”

I dismissed her cliche one-liners, shaking my head lazily. “Oh no, you’ve caught me. What could I possibly do…”

Others tried to take advantage of my captive state but I simply willed a Demonic barrier in place, continuing my act.

“Ah hah!” I perked up. “Rejoice, mortals! For you shall be the first to experience the taste of my untested Authority…over Beauty!”

With my Barrier strong enough to tank hits from an Elder god, I doubted anyone present could hope to break through.

With the Golden chains still restricting my movements—not really, a gentle tug would’ve torn them apart—I closed my eyes and focused inwards.

Desire and Beauty were two different aspects under the same domain. I may have played with people’s desire before, but I’d never tried to see how exercising my Authority over Beauty could do.

‘I can bless a child to grow up beautiful.’ Was the first thought that went through my mind as I slowly touched the Authority I had over the universal domain that is Beauty. ‘Or ugly, if I wanted to be a dick.’

But what of my own? What help could it provide me?

My beauty was supreme upon the Universe, matched only by Aphrodite. It was only right that I held such Authority over it.

And this time, I let it flare around me to its extreme, unleashing all its might upon the world, using my Authority to push my Beauty to otherworldly standards.

When I opened my eyes, I was a little surprised to realize no one was attacking me anymore. It was only then did I notice that half of my enemies in the remaining human group were unconscious—mostly females—with a trail of blood leaking from their noses. The other half were males, and were desperately trying not to look at me directly, discomfort clear on their faces. Of my three main opponents, only the male Devil still had his mouth shut, with even Circe’s eyes dazed and unfocused.

I smiled.

The female Devil dropped unconscious. Circe started drooling. Male Devil closed his eyes, showing great restraint.

“I win.” Laughing, I formed a shower of Holy Spears and killed my unconscious enemies in their sleep.

Only the male Devil managed to raise a hand up, a magical array flaring in front of him…but there was no point. If I wanted them dead there was nothing they could do about it.

When the strangely sinister glow of Holy energy died down, only three beings stood alive upon the battlefield, and one of them was me. The other was the female Devil, who I intended to…interrogate thoroughly, and the last one was Circe, who I intended to tease.

Waving my hand to the side, I summoned back the air current I’d commanded to take the Roman Demigod away to safety under my protection.

“H-Hylla?” Circe breathed in, but the girl didn’t have time for the Witch, her wide eyes stuck to me, looking close to joining the female Devil in the world of sleep.

‘Oh right, my beauty.’

I let go of my Authority and the world returned to normal, as if I’d just graciously returned the beauty I’d stolen away from it unconsciously.

Clapping my hands, I gained the attention of the duo. “So…who wants to be the one to spill the beans?”

For the first time since arriving on the island, I flared my true power, sending the goddess and her attendant on their knees. “How did you know I would come here? Lie and die. But tell me the truth and I shall give you such pleasures that you’ve never even dreamt about.”

I had a feeling that I was going to greatly enjoy this interrogation.

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AN: And done! Not quite the 14k chapter I promised, but I've realized it was pointless to finish the arc in this very chapter, cause it could easily go over 20k. And while I personally would've liked writing such a massive chap I doubt you lot would've been pleased with the extra days it might've taken.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chap! The war is on the horizon, and Kronos' army is growing even more op than our mc...things are about to ramp up high and very quick. You'll get a glance at what's happening with the other pantheons in the next chapter (probably). 

Let me know your thoughts on the chapter, and I'll see you all soon. Goodbye and peace!