As I tried to get up, clutching my aching ribs,
another shadow fell upon the cloud-ground, accompanied by a figure wearing a winged hat.
“Who are you…?”
“Whoopee! Aren’t you Ark? I saw you once on the stage at the promotion celebration. Has it been about two weeks?”
Hermes, his hands crossed behind his back, greeted me with a hearty and playful smile.
Judging from his carefree and cheerful expression, it was clear he possessed an abundance of social grace.
“Divine Priest Ark, I offer my greetings.”
I bowed respectfully, but Hermes casually waved a hand in response.
Then, his gaze shifted past me toward the entrance of the Grand Council Hall.
Hermes stroked his smooth jaw thoughtfully, then picked up a pebble nearby and casually tossed it toward the entrance.
KRZZZZT!!!
The pebble hovered for a moment before being electrified by an invisible current. It turned black and plummeted helplessly to the ground.
Electricity at the entrance—just now, when it had been fine moments ago!
My hair stood on end, and I instinctively backed away from the entrance.
Hermes smiled subtly at my quick reaction, then spoke again.
“Wow, Hera-sama. Placing an electric fence to prevent latecomers? Hermes, the great artist, is being chased away?!”
With his trademark playful tone, Hermes treated the serious situation with light-heartedness.
And yet, this wasn’t a matter for jokes—it was clear the electricity had been set up specifically to block me, the uninvited guest.
“Ark, why do you look so troubled?”
“I am aware it’s presumptuous, but… I desperately want to know how this Council of Gods will unfold.”
“Hmph, well—considering your title as priest might be stripped, it’s natural you’re curious, isn’t it?”
“I don’t cling to the position of priest. I simply want to know about the matter of Lady Metis.”
His teasing tone stung like a needle, but I remained unmoved as I answered honestly.
His sharp eyes darted across my face, searching for any trace of falsehood as I stood resolute before him.
“Hmm… really?”
“That’s correct. I promised Athena-sama I would return her mother. A man’s promise must be kept, wouldn’t you agree?”
At this, Hermes clutched his stomach and burst into laughter.
Unlike the other Olympian gods, Hermes retained a childlike innocence that still felt pure and genuine.
Frankly, I couldn’t fully understand his every action.
What exactly is so funny?
With a dismissive flick of his finger, Hermes whistled as though my curiosity meant nothing to him.
The sharp whistle caught the attention of a lone bat perched on the council hall’s roof.
About the size of a man’s torso, the bat glided toward us. It bowed respectfully to Hermes, then yawned widely, revealing a swirling void within its mouth.
The void rippled with darkness before gradually manifesting a kaleidoscope of colors, eventually projecting an image of the interior of the hall.
Eleven gods sat within, their gazes fixed on Hermes’ empty golden throne.
“This… this isn’t CCTV, is it? It looks more like a live feed from inside the council hall.”
“Exactly. Since you can’t enter, you can watch it this way.”
“Thank… thank you!”
What luck!
I can finally see more clearly!
Perhaps I should even thank Hera, despite her mischief, for erecting the barrier that intrigued Hermes enough to help me.
Though, of course, there’s no way I’d ever utter such gratitude aloud.
After explaining that touching the bat’s ears would adjust the volume, Hermes ascended the steps to enter the meeting hall.
I hesitated, my hand reaching out slightly as I voiced the question I had been holding back.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Huh? Helping…?”
He tilted his head curiously, playing innocent as if he had no idea what I was referring to.
His act was so convincing, it could rival the dramatic flair of weekend soap operas.
But his act couldn’t fool me.
I still clearly remembered the significant words he had spoken to me during the Panthegrasia Promotion Celebration.
“That day, didn’t you say to me, ‘Is Lady Hera so scary?’ while handing me the Golden Pen?”
A casual comment seemingly of little consequence…
But hidden within those words was a storm of truths:
First, that I would give the Golden Pen to Metis.
And second, the chaos that would follow from that act.
How had Hermes known any of this?
“Hahaha, truly impressive, Ark! There’s nothing special, though. It’s just that I happened to know the truth a little earlier than everyone else.”
After receiving the Golden Pen, hadn’t I promptly presented it to Zeus while mentioning Metis?
That’s how all the gods learned of the situation.
By saying he “knew a little earlier,” Hermes implied that he had been privy to this information before the others.
Though Hermes’ sudden humility was surprising,
upon deeper inspection, the implications were undeniably unsettling and astonishing:
The ability to see things others cannot?
Isn’t that the domain of prophecy?
“Could it be… are you a prophet, Hermes-sama?”
“Huh?”
“Knowing something ahead of time… isn’t that akin to seeing the future?”
“Hahahaha!! Incredible! Incredible! You really think that way, huh? Now I understand why Artemis-sama has taken an interest in you. Yep, you’re an interesting one.”
And there he was again, clutching his stomach and laughing heartily.
Tears streamed down his face this time.
“…”
“I’d love to be one, sure. But, Ark, haven’t you forgotten that I’m the Messenger of the Gods?”
Messenger of the Gods.
From the narrow interpretation of conveying messages,
to the broader implication of revealing truths.
Historians even suggest the modern profession of journalism, which uncovers truths, is inspired by this concept.
But the meaning of “messenger” didn’t align with his insight into my inner thoughts, leaving question marks swirling in my mind.
Then a certain word flitted across my mind,
and my gears of thought began to turn once more.
“It’s not divine power… just simple deduction…?”
“Collect the truths, compile them, and the answer was always one.”
With a wink, Hermes playfully patted my back, laughed once more, and then casually tore through the electric barrier to enter the council hall.
Did I view things too much through a divine perspective?
Did I try too hard to understand everything through the lens of divine powers?
I reflect on my assumptions: the troublemaker who prefers jokes over seriousness was, in fact, employing rational deduction far ahead of others.
Prejudice was my own creation.
Even the most cunning have exceptionally sharp minds.
“Good job coming to Olympus today, Ark. I’ve already learned two things.”
I’m far from a perfect superhuman.
But I’m also not a fool who hides his mistakes.
Let’s improve so this doesn’t happen again next time.
As I reflected, familiar voices from the bat’s projection reached my ears.
“SO! That’s why we should just bring back Metis-sama here and ask her directly!”
“You stupid bimbo! That’s exactly what that despicable priest intends!”
“What do you know about it, you disappeared after taking an arrow in the face!”
“Who do you think you are, barging into a meeting like this? Do you want to d*e!?”
“You were the one almost killed, idiot!”
Inside the hall, Artemis and Ares stood, pointing fingers at each other while exchanging insults.
As their argument grew increasingly juvenile, none of the Olympian gods intervened,
instead passively waiting for them to grow tired and stop on their own.
“Hephaestus! Say something! You’re against this, right?!”
“Yes, yes!”
Impatient, Hera turned her attention to her other son.
“Huh, huh, huh! I, uh, mother, oppose it…”
“Shut up. Vibrato.”
Hephaestus’ stuttering was swiftly halted by Apollo.
Calling his stutter an intentional vocal technique, “vibrato,” was nothing short of genius.
Music God, indeed.
“Apollo! Can’t you keep that mouth of yours shut?!!”
“Ouch!!”
“Hera-sama. Please maintain proper decorum during the meeting.”
“Ugh! Athena…”
Amidst the chaos and bickering, the Council of Gods responsible for governing the world felt far from majestic.
The shattered illusion of my high expectations was a bitter pill to swallow.
But there was an interesting observation: the seating arrangement revealed the ideological divide.
On the right side, Athena led the faction, flanked by Apollo and Artemis—supporters of Metis’ reinstatement.
On the left, Hera led her faction alongside her sons, Ares and Hephaestus—opponents of Metis’ reinstatement.
In the middle, Hermes, Zeus, and Poseidon sat at the top.
And below, Aphrodite, Hestia, and Demeter occupied their seats.
If Hestia and Demeter remained neutral,
then the opinions of the remaining four gods would prove crucial.
Zeus seemed deflated, looking around cautiously before likely throwing his weight behind Hera.
Poseidon, I suspected, would side with me.
This would create a 4-4 deadlock, leaving only two gods undecided.
Aphrodite and Hermes.
Where would they cast their votes?
