Faint moonlight slipped through the gaps in the lattice window and spilled into the room in patches of silver. A soft breeze gently stirred the gauze curtains, and beneath them, two figures overlapped.
Helen, who had remained kneeling on the bed without moving for a long while, quietly looked down in the dim light at the king curled up against her. Her sea-blue eyes reflected his handsome features, and her hovering fingertips traced the lines of his face again and again in the air. At the corner of her lips, there slowly gathered a quiet joy and satisfaction, the kind that came from finally getting what one had long wished for.
Though several hours had already passed like this, the blessing of her divine blood and the happiness in her heart kept her from feeling the least bit tired or bored.
From their first meeting, when he had lent her a hand during the Calydonian Hunt, to the war against the giants, when he had raised his arms and rallied all to save things at the brink of collapse. From the way he had appeared out of nowhere on the road and rescued her from danger, to the swift and decisive way he had purged the old nobility on the Areopagus...
In her life, this man was like a comet blazing through the night, like lightning flashing across the sky. He always came and went in a hurry, yet he was impossible to forget.
But she, for one reason or another, had always remained where she was, destined only to look up at the epics and radiance written across the heavens.
Once dawn came, the two lives that had only briefly crossed paths would likely pass beyond this rare point of overlap and continue toward different horizons, growing farther and farther apart.
If time could stop, Helen would have wished for this moment to linger a little longer.
After all, she had received so much from this man, and given him so little in return.
Even if, to him, those things were no more than casual acts.
As the moonlight shifted, the two figures on the bed seemed to draw gradually together. Looking at the man before her, sleeping curled up with the relaxed posture of an infant, Helen unconsciously lowered her head. Little by little, the distance between her lips and the king's forehead closed.
Hum!
But just as Helen's bold movement stopped within three inches of him, the Ether around the side hall of Gemini in the Zodiac Twelve Palaces began to hum and vibrate strangely. A sealing, closing sense of obstruction descended from the dome like a curtain of water and folded shut around them.
In the next instant, before Greece's greatest beauty could steady herself, several figures smashed through the doors and windows and came straight in. Azure-gold glints flashed from short blades and spears as they slashed and thrust at her.
Assassination!
Helen's pupils contracted sharply. Instinctively, her lips parted and she began chanting divine words. But golden-crimson divine power suddenly flared all around, forcibly scattering the Ether she had gathered. At the same time, the murmured whispers nearby made the High Priestess's head ring, her spirit blur, and her body grow heavy and sluggish, unable to move even an inch.
Damn it, a dispersal ritual. A suppression spell. They're temple people!
Helen's face changed drastically. Faced with blades coming at her from all sides, she instinctively scooped up the figure in her arms and turned her back toward the incoming weapons.
But the instant she bent her head down, those sea-blue eyes met a pair of pitch-black pupils in the dark.
Whoosh!
At the same time, a slender white hand lifted slightly. The five fingers curled together, and it was as though time and space stopped. Invisible ripples spread out, then swept from the room and washed across the entire Gemini side hall.
In an instant, whether it was the black-robed figures rushing into the room or the spellcasters in the courtyard layering incantations, all of them froze in place like figures in an abstract painting, unable to move even a hair.
A divine-blood hero. No, stronger!
Almost... divine!
The leader was horrified. His pupils shrank sharply, and the divine patterns on his body pulsed frantically as he struggled to break free of this invisible swamp.
"What's this? Coming to pay your respects to me so late at night. How loyal of you..."
Samael cracked his joints and slowly sat up cross-legged from the bed. The Rune on the fluorite lamp activated, flooding the room with light. His black snake-like eyes swept across the black-robed figures frozen all around, and he let out a dark, chilling laugh.
Damn it. What is he doing here?!
Bastard. So he really does have something going on with that Spartan woman!
The leader cursed inwardly, then dragged stiff facial muscles into motion and forced out with difficulty,
"Your Ma..."
"Kneel!"
But before the words could finish, Samael caught sight of the distinctive Gorgon emblem tucked inside the middle-aged man's collar. His slit pupils narrowed, and he pressed one hand downward through the air. A surging Ether tide swept out in all directions, and crushing pressure several times heavier than before slammed down.
Divine grace is like the sea. Divine might is like a prison!
Bang bang bang bang!
Under that terrifying suppression, these pampered divine-blood nobles all went limp at once and collapsed to the floor face-down. Along the way came the crisp crack of breaking bones.
But at that same moment, the divine core within Samael's abdomen resonated with the surrounding Ether. Savage crimson-black patterns began growing from his chest and crawling up his neck. Then fierce pain erupted like collapsing mountains and crashing seas.
Immediately afterward, the hidden injuries from channeling Altera's magic power were triggered as well. The Ancient Serpent felt his blood and breath churn violently, and a thread of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth. The binding force around the room loosened at once.
"He's hurt. Attack!"
The leader saw the chance and, breaking free from the weakened hell of divine pressure, turned and roared with delight.
At the same time, the three followers beside him understood instantly. Each drew out a white feather of light and drove it hard into his own chest.
Hum! Hum! Hum!
In an instant, blazing white flames shot skyward and formed dazzling pillars of cross-shaped light. Ethereal hymns rang out solemnly in every direction, and massive Ether gathered and condensed.
"Die, you usurper who has unleashed tyranny!"
The leader spread his arms and laughed madly, as if he could already see the man and woman on the bed burned to ash by this holy power.
"Ah! Wh. what is this?!"
"No, don't. Aaaaah!"
But screams and cries followed immediately after. The three followers who had thrust the feathers of light into their chests seemed to realize something. Their faces went deathly pale, and their expressions twisted.
The leader turned stiffly and saw that behind him, the sacred warm flames had suddenly exploded with violent intensity. The three figures inside the pillars of light turned to ash in an instant, and even the last wisps left after the burning were immediately broken apart and dissolved.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
In a blink, the blazing white fire burst outward in every direction like a shower of meteors, falling onto every nearby follower without missing a single one.
Persians, you sons of bitches!
As the leader watched the deadly sparks flying toward him reflected in his own eyes, he understood everything at once. Overcome with fury and bitterness, he could not help cursing aloud.
"Aaaaah..."
In only a few breaths, every figure touched by the blazing white flames ignited violently like dry wood drenched in boiling oil, screaming in agony as they burned to ash in the terrifying heat.
Hum!
As one transparent soul after another turned into pure points of light and gathered in the air, a phantom with six wings unfurled across its back took shape. In its hand, a cross-shaped sword of light condensed and came crashing down, the terrifying heat compressed to the utmost as it swept toward the side hall.
"The hour of twilight has come. Sound the song of despair. This is the end. All things perish and return to ash! . Sun of Utter Radiance, Sword of Flame!"
At the critical instant, Samael forcibly suppressed the churning blood and breath within him, summoned the flaming demonic sword Laevateinn to his side, and used the chance to pour the riotous, hard-to-control Ether within his body into the blade. A crimson light of destruction slashed forward with unmatched force, swallowing the blazing white torrent and scattering the six-winged phantom in the sky.
Boom!
A searing shockwave blasted out in all directions, rattling the windows and doors of the side hall buildings that had survived.
At the same time, a hundred li outside Athens, out on the wasteland, a graceful figure walking across the marsh waters came to a stop. Gemlike in form, the figure turned lightly, and a strand of golden hair spilled from beneath the hood down over the shoulder. After glancing back for a moment, the figure shook their head faintly.
It seems that burdened with sin as you were, you were fated to fail the trial of the sacred flame. But in the end, you still received the purification you sought.
How wicked. How filthy...
May the Lord's mercy look upon this place...