Cherreads

Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Friends of a Single Day

"Boom!"

It was as if the air itself had trembled.

A crack seemed to split open across his field of vision as that punch landed squarely in the giant lion's abdomen.

The fist did not meet resistance through skin and flesh as one might expect. Instead, it pierced straight through in an instant, Tia's entire arm sinking into the lion's body.

The ancient trees around them shuddered beneath the shockwave, leaves whipping up in the wind. The expanding blast of air seemed to ripple across the whole of Mount Cithaeron.

Not only his arm—even his entire body began to emit a faint glow as his magical circuits were fully brought online.

It was as though golden lightning were constantly leaping beneath his skin.

Like a true god descended to earth.

[You killed the Cithaeron Lion.]

[The use of magic leaves you in poor condition. For the first time in this life, you feel physical exhaustion.]

[But overusing magic places you in a special state. In that state, you are able to sense everything around you.]

[And during the process of channeling it, you clearly saw the magical barrier spread across the sky—it was the ritual boundary field known as Dionysus, god of wine.]

[In that instant, your eyes seemed to see through to its essence. A so-called bounded field is something that imposes a state of frenzy upon all living things that enter it, while also suppressing the divinity of lesser gods.]

[You immediately understand why Pollux, despite possessing immortality, had still been bleeding and wounded. Under the effect of the barrier, her divinity as a demigod had been suppressed until she was little different from an ordinary person.]

[Athena is watching you. She is extremely satisfied with your performance.]

[In her eyes, your behavior as a hero perfectly matches the image she holds in her heart. A true hero ought to be drawn into stories of rescuing others.]

[Your battle, too, had immense beauty—broad, forceful movements, every blow landing cleanly, intoxicating to her like a fine vintage.]

[Especially that final strike that killed the lion. It made her borrowing the right to use Dionysus's bounded field, as well as her manipulation of Zeus's son, entirely worthwhile.]

[However, she believes you have already realized that she was involved, so in truth, there is no need for any tribute after all.]

[From the start, what she meant was this little farce itself—a drama she enjoyed, a "trial" staged for your entrance as a hero.]

[Athena is completely satisfied. She leaves Mount Cithaeron.]

[You tap your forehead in exasperation. In your eyes, Athena, as a god, is still far too free-spirited, too lazy, and too faithful to her own desires.]

[And yet, at the same time, you feel a little relieved by that. As long as you play the hero, you can win the goddess's favor.]

[For the first time in a long while, you feel a little conflicted.]

[So you can only deal with the aftermath yourself.]

[You calm Pollux, whose gaze on you has become almost molten, then explain Pollux's ordeal to Castor now that the suppressive effect of Dionysus's barrier is gone. Quite naturally, you leave out Athena's involvement and replace her with some unnamed god.]

[After settling the two of them, you walk toward the fallen lion's corpse.]

[Its foul-smelling blood keeps pouring from the great hole in its abdomen. Though such blood would be a rare material in potion-making, to you in your current state it is utterly useless.]

[Perhaps, if you ever get the chance to meet Medea later, you might consider learning the magecraft of the Age of Gods.]

[You break off the lion's fangs. Using a sharp object, you begin cutting into the flesh, intending to peel away an entire piece of the Cithaeron Lion's hide—but this is by no means easy.]

[After struggling with it for quite some time, you decide to set the skinning aside and first reward your stomach with a late-night meal.]

[You build a fire. The meat you roast receives rave reviews.]

By the dim glow of the fire, beneath a sky glittering with stars, the shadows on all three of their faces seemed deeper than before.

"If not for you, Heracles... Pollux and I might never have seen each other again."

Staring into the fire, Castor felt, for the first time, the weight of his own helplessness.

He had once thought that conquering Athens with such ease was enough to secure a place for the two of them in this world.

But reality had proved nothing like his hopes.

They were still frogs at the bottom of a well. Just some nameless god, acting on a whim, had been enough to toy with them in the palm of their hand.

Being a son of Zeus was nothing more than a convenience of birth.

Castor knew very well that if that title were stripped away, if not for the protection of his sister, he would not even qualify for the name hero.

He was too weak.

"But if not for me, you wouldn't have faced this danger in the first place."

Tia smiled at Castor, those ruby-red eyes holding a sincerity entirely free of falsehood.

"The Cithaeron Lion was my enemy. And this was a trial the gods laid upon me."

Tia turned the meat roasting over the branches with practiced ease. Orange-red firelight danced in the depths of his youthful yet strangely profound eyes.

He understood perfectly well that Castor's sense of defeat came from the gap between the expectations attached to his identity as a demigod and the reality of his merely mortal flesh.

"As for the helplessness you speak of..."

Tia paused, then turned and looked straight at Castor's dispirited face.

"All I saw was an older brother desperately trying to protect his sister. Your strength may have fallen short, but the heart that wanted to protect someone precious to you—that was not false in the slightest."

Castor listened to Tia's words, so calm and steady they far exceeded his years, and remained stunned for a long time.

"...You're right." Castor gave a bitter smile. "You may still be young, but you understand far more than I do."

"Perhaps."

Everything Tia had said came from the bottom of his heart.

The word hero had always stood for living, breathing stories. Castor and Pollux were one of the brighter pairs among them, and Tia genuinely respected them.

Of course, especially when compared to a fake "hero" like himself.

"Well then, Mr. Heracles, who 'understands so much'—"

At that moment, Pollux suddenly leaned in from the side.

She had already washed the blood from her face with spring water. Though her dress was still torn, under the firelight the wild beauty unique to Greek women only became more striking.

Her star-like eyes were locked tightly onto Tia now. She even licked her lips unconsciously, and it was hard to say whether she was savoring the scent of the roasted meat—

or replaying the sight of Tia in battle just moments before.

"Since you say the danger came because of you, and I just so happened to be saved by you... then according to Spartan tradition, a maiden rescued from the jaws of a magical beast by a hero is supposed to offer up everything she has in gratitude, you know?"

[Trait — Beautiful Boy: Although you already possess special effectiveness against mature women, women whose inner age is mature while their appearance remains youthful are outside the scope of that effect. Thus, your beautiful-boy looks make up for that shortcoming.]

"Pollux! Stop causing trouble for Heracles!"

Now that he had barely regained some spirit, Castor could not help shouting in protest.

He had the growing feeling that the way his sister looked at Tia was becoming more and more like a lioness staring at prey.

Still, Greek custom was Greek custom. He did not object to his sister marrying.

It was just that, no matter how one counted it, the two of them had only known each other for a single day. As her older brother, Castor found the whole thing far too hasty.

"I'm not joking, Brother."

Pollux straightened her chest boldly, then turned back toward Tia, her eyes practically dripping honey.

"When a maiden pursues love, she ought to be bold and wild. Even I have someone I like! Isn't that right, Mr. Heracles?"

Feeling the warmth pressing in at his side, and Castor's complicated gaze full of both gratitude and despair, Tia rubbed his temples helplessly.

[You feel a pressure unlike anything before. This is even more headache-inducing than dealing with the Cithaeron Lion.]

[You decide to avoid this dangerous topic for the time being.]

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