Faced with Alaric's question, the goddess looked somewhat puzzled.
"You… don't recognize me?"
"Why should I?" Alaric was even more confused. "Are you someone famous?"
"Can't even recognize the god you worship, what an insolent mortal." The goddess pouted slightly, looking offended.
"Listen closely now. I'll only say this once.
I am the goddess of the hunt, mistress of beasts and lady of the wilds, goddess of archery and skill with the bow, protector of newborns, driver of the moon chariot, ever-chaste virgin goddess, one of the twelve Olympians, daughter of Zeus and Leto, Artemis, goddess of the moon!"
So it's her!
After hearing the long list of titles, Alaric suddenly understood.
No wonder the woman before him possessed such an unearthly appearance and charm, cool and pristine like the moon, noble and untamed.
Gods were the embodiment and personification of the world's laws, manifestations of its principles.
Beyond their divinity, they naturally exuded traits and allure reflective of their domains.
Such divine charm disregarded species or sentience; even ordinary beasts would be drawn to a deity's overwhelming essence.
This level of allure could practically be considered a force of nature.
Only Alaric, an outsider who essentially stood above all dimensions, could remain unaffected and retain his composure.
Not truly bewitched, Alaric naturally didn't act like a mere mortal, awed or seduced beyond reason.
It felt more like meeting a stranger for the first time. "Artemis, huh? Got it."
As he spoke, he looked at the goddess with a strange expression that made her visibly uncomfortable.
Before she could say anything, he spoke again.
"Those titles… who taught you to say all that?"
"My priestesses. That's how they address me." Artemis tilted her head. "Why?"
"Well…" Alaric looked hesitant, as if embarrassed to continue.
After a moment's pause, he finally said, "To say such a long-winded list of titles to someone you're meeting for the first time… boasting about your deeds as self-introduction… doesn't that feel shameful to you?"
"Sha… shameful?"
Images of her solemnly praising herself before this man immediately popped into Artemis's mind.
Her pretty face flushed bright red.
"Ugh… I'm sorry," she covered her face with her hands.
"This was my first time introducing myself to someone. I… I just copied the foolish priestesses. I'll dismiss them when I return."
Watching the goddess's naive and awkward reaction, Alaric couldn't help but laugh, though he also quietly felt sorry for those unfortunate priestesses.
To have such a whimsical and clueless goddess as their mistress, they really were unlucky.
"Forget it. At least now I know all about you," Alaric consoled her, then shifted the topic. "So, where are we exactly?"
"This is Mount Taygetus in the Peloponnese," the goddess replied. "It's my hunting ground."
"Peloponnese… so we're in Greece," Alaric nodded. "No wonder I ran into you."
However, the goddess didn't respond to his words and instead repeated,
"This is my hunting ground."
"You just said that," Alaric said curiously. "Why repeat it?"
"This is my hunting ground," the goddess repeated, pouting in anger. "And you ruined it."
"Ah… sorry, sorry," Alaric instantly realized what he'd done earlier and quickly apologized.
"Really sorry, I accidentally landed here. Would you like me to restore it for you?"
"Restore it?" Artemis looked intrigued.
"Yes," Alaric nodded and began casting spells on the surrounding area. "Like this."
Alaric used a Restoration Spell from the Harry Potter world, amplifying the spell's area and potency with his advanced casting skills.
Although he couldn't restore trees that had already burned to ash, those knocked down by the shockwave stood upright again, and even broken branches, fallen leaves, and scattered splinters returned to their original positions.
Just as Alaric was about to cast additional spells to stimulate plant regrowth, Artemis stepped closer, curiously inspecting him and especially the wand in his hand.
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?" Alaric was confused.
"Just now, you made it rain," Artemis pointed up at the sky, "and then made the trees go back to normal. How did you do that? Is it because of this artifact?"
As she spoke, she curiously poked at his wand.
"This isn't an artifact. It's magic," Alaric explained. "Magic is what I use. This wand is just a convenient medium to channel it. I can still do it without the wand."
Then, he asked Artemis in confusion, "Wait… have you never seen anyone do something like this before?"
"No, I have," Artemis countered. "But they were all gods, or demigods. They were born with such abilities.
Mortals may be strong, skilled in combat even, but they can't do what you just did."
She stared intently into Alaric's eyes and asked seriously, "You don't carry the aura of a god or demigod. So how can you do it?"
"Because of magic." Looking at the goddess, who now resembled a curious child, Alaric patiently explained.
"Mortals don't possess innate divine power. If they want to grow stronger, they must learn techniques.
Magic is one such technique, using one's mind to align with the laws, draw in the pure aether of the world, shape it through mental constructs, and produce effects similar to a god's power. That's what magic is."
As he spoke, he demonstrated a few minor cantrips to illustrate the principles of magic.
After listening, Artemis shook her head.
"I've never heard of such a theory. I don't understand it. But it sounds amazing."
She looked at Alaric with admiration.
"To achieve miracles only gods can perform with mortal strength… that's incredible!
What's your name?"
"I'm Alaric," he replied. But her previous statement still left him puzzled. "You've never seen anyone else use magical power?"
"…Nope," Artemis thought for a moment and confirmed, "I've seen people who are strong, agile, or skilled in battle, but aside from priestesses, I've never seen anyone perform miracles like a god.
And even the priestesses only channel our power to do it. But you can do it all by yourself, you're amazing."
"Oh, not at all. I've just learned what others passed down."
Artemis's praise pleased Alaric, but a lingering doubt remained in his mind.
Why didn't this world have magic?
He didn't suspect Artemis was lying or unaware of it. Though she acted somewhat airheaded, she was undoubtedly a true Olympian deity.
The power within her was so immense that it almost frightened Alaric. If magic existed in this world, Artemis or at least her priestesses would've sensed it.
And yet… the Type-Moon world of the Age of Gods should have magic. Magi like Medea absolutely existed.
Even earlier, in the era of the Mesopotamian gods, magic should've existed. Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, certainly understood magic.
Had he… somehow ended up in a false Type-Moon world?
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