This woman is no ordinary midwife!
This is a midwife who's determined to kill herself! 1r5Rp
The thought crossed my mind, but the baby's body had already moved. There was no other way.
It had the strength to resist, but not the ability to escape, not even the capacity to roll over. This newborn body could only mobilize…
His only weapon is his mouth.
His mouth opened wide.
"Wow—Aaaaaaah—!"
"
The cry pierced his throat, sharp and loud, using all the strength in his small body. He cried desperately.
He cried out, his little face flushed red, his limbs kicking wildly, scattering the swaddling clothes. "Help! Anyone will do! Where's his cheapskate mother? Where's that woman who was just holding him and crying?"
If all else fails, even those two cheapskate dads could help!
"What's going on?"
The voice came from behind the curtain, weak and weary, yet carrying a mother's instinctive concern.
Alcmene.
She lay on the delivery bed, pale-faced, her sweat-dampened hair plastered to her forehead. Maids surrounded her, some carrying hot water, others tidying up blood-stained cloths. She heard crying, turned her head, and frowned slightly.
"Why is the child crying so hard?"
old woman
She didn't move; she stood by the cradle, her back to the delivery bed, her back to the busy maids, her back to...
For everyone. 1r5Rp
Those cloudy old eyes remained fixed on the baby's face, the coarse cloth skirt at her feet remaining perfectly still. She didn't even turn her head to look at the mother who had just given birth, but merely turned her head slightly so that her voice could carry behind her. "Your Highness, there's no need to worry." The voice was hoarse and aged, yet composed, "Newborn babies are all like this. Separated from their mothers..."
"The baby isn't used to it yet, it'll be fine after a few cries. It'll stop crying in a little while."
I stopped crying after a while.
Her fingers were already on the edge of the cradle.
"Then I won't cry anymore! How can I cry when I'm dead!" The baby heard this too, and inwardly cursed the old man.
The midwife cried even harder, trying to get the mother's attention.
Alcmene blinked. She was exhausted. The ordeal of that night, the pain of childbirth, had almost drained her completely.
She had no strength left. But she still managed to hold on and didn't close her eyes immediately, her brows still furrowed.
"Bring it here...let me see it..."
The voice grew softer, yet carried an undeniable resolve. 1r5Rp
That's a mother's instinct. The child is crying, and she needs to see the child.
The old woman stopped moving.
Her fingers, resting on the edge of the cradle, tightened slightly. She stood there, her back to everyone, silent for a moment.
The silence was too short, so short that the maids couldn't detect anything amiss. Yet the silence was also too long, so long that the infant saw clearly...
I saw the coldness flash in those cloudy old eyes.
"good."
She answered softly, then bent down. The hand, stained with amniotic fluid and blood, landed steadily.
On the baby's delicate neck.
The baby's fingers clenched, the crying stopped abruptly, and his eyes widened suddenly. Those hands were rough, the fingertips pressed against his...
The tiger's mouth (the space between the thumb and forefinger) blocked his trachea and then tightened.
The air was blocked. The throat felt compressed. The last breath in the lungs hadn't been exhaled, but no new air could be inhaled.
Come. Her small chest heaved violently, but it was all in vain. 1r5Rp
His legs kicked once, then kicked again. His fingers opened, then clenched, then clenched again, then opened again. Because of lack of oxygen and pain, the baby closed one eye, leaving only one open to look at the old midwife.
The baby's expression was particularly ferocious at that moment.
The old woman looked down at him. Her cloudy old eyes were expressionless, as if she were doing something very ordinary, something she often did. Like delivering a baby, like washing, like wrapping a baby. Only this time, it was about bringing in a newborn...
His life was sent back.
A soft, rustling sound came from behind her. Alcmene was propping herself up.
"Child...why have you stopped crying...?"
Her voice carried confusion and a hint of unease.
The old woman did not look back.
She simply lowered her head, brought her ear close, and whispered in a voice so low only he could hear: 1r5Rp
"Stop struggling."
"If Hera wants you dead, you must die."
The five fingers tightened again.
The baby's face turned from flushed to bluish-purple. His vision began to darken, and his ears rang, as if something was...
The west is receding—light, sound, temperature, all are fading away.
Alcmene's somewhat urgent voice came from a very, very far place.
"Why don't you come over..."
The old woman's face became blurry, as if seen through a layer of water.
He mustn't die. 1r5Rp
You can't die like this.
He arrived in this world without any explanation, and as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the woman holding him and crying.
Hearing her say "my son," he suddenly grabbed her.
Consciousness sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, sinking into an endless abyss, but at the very last moment, it was stopped by something.
————I don't want to die! 1r5Rp
Boom.
The sound was very soft, but everyone in the delivery room heard it.
The mother, who was struggling to sit up, suddenly froze. The maids carrying the water basins also stopped abruptly.
They looked at each other, their eyes filled with confusion.
What's that sound? 1r5Rp
Boom.
here we go again.
This time it was heavier. It was as if something was tapping away in the depths of darkness. It came from somewhere else, from that cradle. 1r5Rp
The maids lowered their heads, looking at their chests. It wasn't their heartbeats. The sound wasn't coming from their own bodies.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
The thunderous sound of drums echoed through the small delivery room.
heart.
That tiny heart was pounding violently in her chest. One beat after another, each one like a thunderclap.
The thunderbolts struck flesh and blood, each blow causing the small, thin ribs to vibrate and creak.
Alcmene's hands suddenly gripped the sheets beneath him.
That's her child. That's her child beating, but the sound of that heartbeat—1r5Rp
golden light.
Light emanating from the depths of the heart.
That wasn't the color of mortals; it was the color of the summit of Mount Olympus, the color of the bloodline of the gods, the color of thunder.
The color of Ting.
Golden blood pumped from the heart, surged into the veins, flowing, flowing, flowing! Like a flood breaking through a dam.
The dam, like thunder cleaving through the deep night, caused the veins to burn and the muscles to tremble where the golden blood surged.
A tremor, a humming in the bones. 1r5Rp
The baby's hand suddenly clenched.
That small, weak hand, which had been so limp just moments before, now gripped the old woman's fingers.
The old woman's cloudy eyes suddenly widened as she looked down at her hands.
Those five fingers, those fingers that were gripping the baby's neck, were now being pried open by something. Little by little...
The point was uncontrollably stretched open. 1r5Rp
Something else is awakening within this tiny body.
The heartbeat was like a war drum, each beat heavier and louder than the last. The sound crashed against the walls of the delivery room.
It crashed against the curtains and onto the surface of the water in the copper basin.
The water surface trembled, rippling outwards in concentric circles.
The copper basins carried by the maids clattered to the ground. Warm water spilled everywhere, and white steam rose up.
It was up. No one went to pick it up. No one could move it.
They just stood there, staring blankly at the cradle.
What is that?
What is that glowing?
Golden electric light emanated from beneath the baby's skin, fine as a net, winding like a snake, following the course of the blood vessels.
The electric light traveled over her entire body. It illuminated the old woman's contorted face, and the fear that finally surfaced in her eyes. Oh no!
The bloodline of the God-King has awakened!
A chill ran through Eletia, the goddess of childbirth. This child, who should have been strangled in the womb…
The child, the one whose throat she had personally choked and who should have died — 1r5Rp
At this moment, she was staring intently at her child with one eye open, its golden pupil fixed on him.
The baby made a sound in its throat; it wasn't a cry.
No one could say for sure what the sound was. It sounded like a low growl, a roar, or... like it was coming from a very far away place.
Thunder rumbled from afar.
——————On Mount Olympus. 1r5Rp
Zeus suddenly pushed Hera away from his arms.
He stood up, the drunkenness, the smile, the dazed look on his face all gone. The wine glass slipped from his hand, the golden glass...
The wine spilled onto the marble floor and splashed onto the hem of his robe. He didn't even look down.
His eyes were fixed on the distant sky, on a place beyond the sight of mortals, a place only gods could perceive.
There—1r5Rp
His bloodline is there.
His son is there.
Someone there is trying to kill his son.
"Hera." 1r5Rp
His voice was low and eerily calm.
Hera remained seated on the couch, her smile unchanged. She even picked up her wine glass and took a small sip.
mouth.
"how?"
"What did you do?"
"Me?" Hera raised an eyebrow. "I did nothing. I said the first child born would receive my reward."
Gifts and blessings.
She put down her wine glass, her smile incredibly gentle.
"What, wasn't that child... the first one born?"
Zeus stared at her.
for a moment.
Another moment.
Then he turned around and strode toward the edge of the temple.
He raised his hand. The once clear and cloudless sky above Mount Olympus suddenly darkened.
—————Thebes.
In the delivery room, the old woman's hand was pulled away. That tiny hand, that hand that had been gripping her fingers, was now...
She exerted her strength. Then she heard a sound.
Click! 1r5Rp
Pain shot through her fingertips. Her hand, her fingers were being broken off by the baby.
"ah---!"
A piercing scream erupted from the old woman's throat. She clutched her hand, her cloudy old eyes filled with disbelief.
letter.
The baby lay in the cradle, the finger marks on his neck bright red, his bluish-purple complexion not yet completely faded. But his eyes were open.
The eye, that golden eye, was staring at her.
Just then, it got light outside the window.
In that instant, the entire world changed color.
The once clear night sky was suddenly filled with swirling, exploding dark clouds! Countless layers of clouds surged forth from the void.
It was as if an invisible hand had torn open the curtain of the sky, showering the world with the majesty of Olympus.
A sudden gust of wind arose, howling and sweeping across the palaces of Thebes. The window frames trembled, and the curtains danced wildly.
Then - thunder comes.
That was not thunder from the human world.
That was the wrath of the God-King.
A bolt of lightning struck. 1r5Rp
No, not just one. It was countless. Tens of millions of bolts of lightning exploded simultaneously, pouring down from the heavens, engulfing the entire...
The night sky was torn into countless fragments. Purple lightning illuminated every inch of land, making the world as bright as day.
It's so bright it's blinding.
Thunder rumbled in, one boom after another, each one louder than the last, as if the entire sky itself was roaring.
The roars were all questioning.
The windows of the delivery room were shattered by the shock.
A fierce wind blew in, raising the curtains high, causing the maids to scream and fall to the ground, and blowing through the air...
Mene's eyes widened, and in those eyes—was terror.
The old woman staggered backward, knocking over the low table behind her and falling to the ground. She clutched her twisted hand, her whole body...
Trembling, in that aged face and those cloudy old eyes, only one thing remained—
fear.
Outside the window, thunder rumbled and raged on.
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