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Ades behaved unusually calmly in the face of Hercules' father's dismissal.
He only owed slightly, and the curvature was as small as ever, almost negligible. "Understood." He said, "Tomorrow after teaching for the last time, I will leave."
Amphitreon looked at him and always felt that something was wrong. The music
teacher's reaction was too flat, so plain that it seemed as if he had expected all this. But he didn't think much about it, just nodded, turned and left. 1r5Rp In the evening, he told Hercules the news.
"Tomorrow is the last day." Amphitreon said, "He left after teaching."
When Hercules heard this, the stone in his heart that had been hanging for a long time finally fell to the ground. Tomorrow, it's just one day. Just endure it for another day and it's over. 1r5Rp
Hercules nodded, a relieved smile appearing on his face. "Okay."
Last day.
Sunlight poured in through the window and fell on the piano left by the blind old man. The body is slightly illuminated, and the lines of those years are particularly clear in the light and shadow. Hercules sat down at the piano and took a deep breath.
It's the last time.
He told himself.
Ades stood behind him and did not speak. At this moment, there was no scolding, no ridicule, and no biting words on weekdays. He just stood there quietly, occasionally speaking, pointing out problems in Hercules' playing. The tone is flat, the attitude is calm, like a normal music
teacher.
Hercules was fortunate at first.
Is this guy finally normal to himself because he is going to be fired? It seems that I can finally finish this last lesson quietly.
But soon, he realized something was wrong.
There was an inexplicable irritability in his heart, and that irritability was getting stronger as time went by.
He couldn't tell what it was. It was as if something was slowly fermenting in his heart, squeezing his patience little by little. Those notes that were supposed to be calming became particularly harsh in the ears at the moment. Every time that
String vibrates will deepen his irritability. Hercules' fingers tightened slightly; he had misplayed a note.
Ades clearly heard, but he didn't speak. But for Hercules at that moment, that silence was more powerful than anything else.
The insults were even more unbearable.
Hercules' breathing became heavier. He could feel the golden river surging in his veins, flowing faster and faster. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to suppress it.
He continued to play.
Another wrong note.
Ades remained silent.
Just look at him.
Hercules could feel the gaze, and then his fingers stopped.
He sat there, head down, looking at his hands. His hands trembled slightly, his fingers curling up, then relaxing, then curling up again.
Then, he suddenly stood up.
The movement was so forceful that the chair behind him toppled over with a dull thud. Hercules turned and looked directly at Ades.
"You may leave." Ades didn't move. He stood there, looking at Hercules. That gaze stirred something within Hercules.
My frustration swelled several times over in an instant. Memories of the past flashed before my eyes.
Those harsh words, those biting sarcasm, those condescending gazes, those repeated statements like "You don't understand music at all," "You'll never get anywhere even if you practice your whole life," and "Your teachers are all incompetent"—they surged up like a tide, wave after wave, assaulting his last shred of sanity. Hercules' cry...
The sucking became harder and harder.
And Ades looked at him, at his desperate attempts to suppress his anger, and suddenly laughed. Hercules didn't know what the man was laughing at; he only knew that the moment he saw that smile, his anger surged dramatically.
"I said—you can leave!"
His voice suddenly rose, the volume so loud it made the room tremble slightly. Golden light began to appear in his eyes. At first, it was just a faint layer, like a candle flame lit deep within his pupils. But the light spread, brightened, and gradually returned to its original color.
Ades remained motionless; he stood there as if rooted to the spot.
Hercules whirled around and strode toward the door. He didn't want to see that face again, didn't want to hear that voice again. He didn't want to stay there a moment longer. He strode forward, his hand already touching the edge of the door.
But just then, a figure blocked his way.
Ades.
At this moment, the man whom Hercules loathed so much stood between him and the door, blocking his only way out.
.
Hercules narrowed his eyes. Golden light almost overflowed from those narrowed slits. His hands hung at his sides, his fingers trembling slightly, opening and closing.
As long as you hold on tight, as long as you raise it, as long as you smash it down—
Hercules took a deep breath.
"Get out of the way."
Ades didn't move. Hercules sensed something was wrong with that restlessness. It wasn't like the emotions he usually felt; it was more like...
Something within him was stirring things up, adding fuel to the fire, slapping him on the back every time he tried to suppress it.
The wind. Hercules looked at him, at that gloomy face, at those unfathomable eyes, at the faint smile at the corner of his mouth.
"What did you do?"
Hercules finally realized something was wrong. Ades didn't answer Hercules's question. He simply stood there, blocking the doorway, watching Hercules...
Hercules stared at him, the restlessness still surging wildly within him. As the power within him surged...
As the golden light in his eyes grew brighter, he saw it. A faint red light enveloped Ades.
The light was faint, almost imperceptible. If Hercules' eyes hadn't been glowing gold, he wouldn't have seen it at all. The red light emanated from Ades' chest, spreading across his body like mist, and then...
Then it separated a strand, like an invisible thread, and connected to Hercules, whose pupils suddenly contracted.
He looked down at himself, following the red thread to his chest. There, the red light was slowly seeping into his skin, penetrating his veins, and merging into the golden river.
It is fueling the flames.
Adding fuel to the fire.
Every time he tried to suppress his anger, he fanned himself again.
Hercules finally understood.
This is no ordinary anger.
This is Hera's magic.
He had heard that Hera, the Queen of the Gods, was proficient in all sorts of mysterious magic. She could drive people mad, make them lose their way, and...
People do things they can't even understand themselves. In those ancient legends, how many heroes were destroyed by her magic and curses, how many people were driven to ruin and death by her? Now, he finally experienced it firsthand.
anger.
impulse.
That burning desire to tear everything apart.
Those things he had been trying to suppress were gradually breaking free from their constraints under the influence of this red light.
Hercules' breathing grew heavier and heavier. His fingers clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, using the pain to...
He needs to clear his head. He needs to get out of here.
Immediately.
"See?"
Adez finally spoke. He moved half a step to the side, but that half step wasn't enough to clear the doorway. He only...
It changed its posture, but it was still blocking the way, blocking Hercules' only escape route.
"Why do you think it's so peaceful today?" Ades said. "Why do you think I haven't been yelling at you?"
He smiled, a smile full of sarcasm.
"Because it's not needed anymore.
Hercules gritted his teeth and remained silent.
He could feel the anger rising, wave after wave. He needed to leave, to find a secluded place, to suppress this emotion.
"You think you can control it?"
Ades's voice drilled into his ears.
"You can't hold it back."
"Who do you think you are? Do you think that after learning the piano for a few years, writing a few words, and drawing a few pictures, you can transform yourself into someone else?"
His voice grew louder and sharper.
"The blood of the God-King flows in your veins! That blood is for conquest, for creating glory! Not for letting..."
"You're holed up in this palace, like those mortals, learning the blood of those useless things!" Hercules's hand tightened its grip.
"Look at yourself." Ades held out his hand, pointing at him so hard his finger almost poked him in the face. "You have this…"
Such power, yet they willingly bury themselves in these trivial matters—painting? Writing? Playing the piano? What are those? Those are things of ordinary people! Things they spend their entire lives searching for meaning in, which is why they use them to deceive themselves.
West!
His voice grew louder and louder, almost shouting.
"They need to learn because they were born blank slates! They need to practice again and again, making mistakes every time, just to barely grasp a little bit! But what about you? You were born to stand above them! You were born to use your strength to conquer, to create your own legend! Not to sit here like them, struggling for those few pitiful notes."
Practice the talisman repeatedly!"
Adez's eyes were frighteningly bright, and his gloomy face was now flushed red.
"Power! Glory! That's what you should be pursuing! That's what the golden blood in your veins desires! What do you think your teachers taught you? They just dragged you into their quagmire, making you and..."
They rolled around in the mud together! *1r5Rp
Hercules stared at him, the golden light burning in his pupils.
"You think I don't know what you're thinking?" Ades's voice suddenly lowered, but became even harsher than before. "You think I can't see it? Every time you sit there playing the piano, every time I scold you and you have to endure it, every time you stand..."
"You get up and then sit down again—what are you thinking?" He paused, a strange smile curving his lips.
"You want to use your power to do something truly great. You want to leave here and go to that vast world outside."
Go and create your own glory. Am I right? "
Hercules' body stiffened for a moment.
Ades caught that moment of stiffness.
He laughed, a sharp and piercing laugh.
"But you dare not. Because you are bound by those mortals. Your mother, your father, your foolish..."
Huhu's brother—they use those so-called feelings to bind you tightly. You're afraid they'll be sad if you leave, afraid they'll be heartbroken if you go, afraid they'll look at you with disappointed eyes.
He took a step closer, his eyes fixed on Hercules.
"But who are they?"
"They are mortals. Decades later, they will all die, turn into piles of bones, and be forgotten by everyone. But you—you will live on, you will become a legend, you will live forever on this earth!"
"You actually gave up everything you should have for these fleeting things?"
Ades's voice was sharp as a thorn, piercing Hercules's eardrum.
Hercules' eyes had turned completely golden. The light burned in his pupils, and his body trembled—a tremor of uncontrollable force, a tremor of suppressed power.
His instinctive reaction after the limit. Veins bulged on his clenched fist. That golden river surged wildly within his veins, impacting every part of him.
root nerve.
He gritted his teeth until his cheeks ached.
Then he stretched out his hand.
The hand landed on Ades' shoulder, shoving him aside. Ades was thrown off balance by the force and crashed into the doorframe. Hercules didn't turn around; he simply pushed open the door and walked out.
He stepped into the corridor, into the sunlight. The sunlight fell upon him, warm and comforting. At the end of the corridor, a maidservant carrying a basin of water passed by and bowed to him. In the distance, Iphicles's laughter, seemingly playing with someone, drifted over.
Everything is business as usual.
Everything was still the way he craved.
Hercules stood there, eyes closed.
The sunlight shone on his face, and the golden light danced beneath his eyelids like countless tiny specks of light.
He knew this day would come.
From the moment he first realized who he was, from the moment he first saw the golden light surging from within him, from the moment he first felt the terror of that power—he knew that one day he would no longer be able to live such a peaceful life.
He is Hercules.
That name itself is a declaration of destiny. He will leave this place, he will undergo those trials, he will become a legendary hero. Perhaps, like in mythology, he will do things he will regret for the rest of his life.
He had thought about all of those things.
But he still craved it.
He longed for his mother's warm smile every time she saw him. He longed for his father's rough hands when he patted his shoulder. He longed for that silly boy, Iphicles, who, even though he was much shorter than him, still liked to run over and hug him.
He reached out his arm and called out, "Little brother, play with me!"
I cherish these ordinary, mundane, and insignificant daily routines.
He knew they would end.
He just hoped—
A little later.
Even if it's just a little later.
Let him take a few more glances, feel it a few more times, and let that silly boy hug his arm and call him "little brother" a few more times.
He didn't ask for forever.
He knew that was wishful thinking.
He only prayed that the moment he would bear the weight of fate would come later.
But fate never gives people time to prepare.
It always comes quietly when you are least prepared.
"Do you know how your mother got pregnant with you? Do you know how your bloodline came from?"
The voice came from behind me.
Hercules' footsteps suddenly stopped. "Alcmene." Ades leaned against the doorframe, "Queen of Thebes, wife of
Amphitreon." But - uh! "
Hercules' palm choked Adès' mouth.
His eyes were round and shining like a torch.