Artemis found the gaze he directed at her somewhat strange.
She couldn't say whether she disliked it or liked it.
It just made her a little uncomfortable.
In Greece, any other man who dared look at her like that would have had his eyes shot out long ago.
Yet now, a man, who wasn't even a god and simply a mortal, was looking at her with this equal, appreciative gaze.
Hm...calling it disrespectful to a god didn't quite fit, because there was no filth or profane desire in it.
However, his unbridled behavior certainly didn't suggest he was the type of mortal who'd obediently follow the words of the gods.
Another hero with no reverence for gods whatsoever.
But because Night had passed her trial earlier, and because of the formidable willpower he displayed when faced with the sirens' temptation, Artemis had developed a genuinely favorable impression of him, more than enough goodwill built up.
She had already decided to take him in as one of her own, and toward those she claimed, the moon goddess was quite generous and forgiving.
There had once been a prince who was completely obsessed with the moon goddess.
He was the son of Theseus, the great hero and king of Athens who unraveled the Labyrinth of Minos.
Because his only affection was for Artemis's beauty, and he refused any involvement with all other women of the mortal world, swearing he would only be with Artemis and found no other woman worth his time.
His name was Hippolytus.
Because his contempt for other women offended Aphrodite, goddess of love and protector of marriage and married women, the furious goddess used her power to make his stepmother Phaedra fall desperately and madly in love with him as punishment.
When Hippolytus rejected that love, Phaedra died of shame and took her own life, and Theseus, reading her letter, flew into a rage and banished his son, then called upon the sea god to destroy him.
The prince was afterward struck by a divine bull sent by Poseidon, his chariot overturned against the rocks, leaving him on the verge of death.
It was fortunate Hera, the other goddess associated with marriage, did not get involved.
Otherwise there would have been nothing left of Hippolytus, and whatever remained would have already passed through the digestive system of some legendary beast.
When Artemis learned what happened, she personally saved Hippolytus and brought him to her temple, casually giving him the role of a priest to settle the matter.
Though Artemis never accepted his feelings, she did feel a degree of pity for a mortal who had suffered such schemes and fallen to such a fate precisely because he honored her and refused to honor the goddess of love.
Toward those who turned to her, or those she acknowledged, the moon goddess had always possessed a measure of compassion and understanding.
And compared to Hippolytus, whom she only intervened for out of pity when he had no one left and had lost everything,
It was clear that Night, who had actively passed her trial, occupied a place in Artemis's regard that was incomparably greater.
If her goodwill toward Hippolytus was one, her goodwill toward Night was a hundred.
This was not to say the moon goddess had fallen for Night, but rather that from her perspective, the former was insignificant.
She had probably even forgotten his name by now after all this time.
But Night was, for both Apollo and Artemis, the kind of rare hero worth keeping in mind.
The kind worth actually taking seriously.
If he continued to show this level of potential, neither of them would hesitate to help him grow into a subordinate god, guiding him up the steps from mortal to divine and making him a right hand they could rely on.
For gods, origins and background mattered far less than whether someone was the right fit.
And Night was very much the right fit for both of them right now.
Riding the tall and majestic golden-antlered divine deer, the goddess spoke. "I am Artemis, goddess of the hunt.
And I am also your moon goddess.
I heard someone praying to me.
Was it you? Lost little lambs caught in suffering....you who face toward the moonlight, seeking a path forward."
When Artemis spoke those words,
The sailors who had been trembling with reverence froze up.
Praying to the moon goddess?
No, no... that's not right.
They had been praying to the sun god, right?
But then the terrifying divine pressure crashed down around them, an oppressive force that felt like it could materialize and crush the very space they stood in, and the storm grew even more violent, lightning and thunder erupting everywhere.
The sailors went pale with fear.
Then finally someone with a little more courage and a quicker mind hurriedly nodded. "Yes, yes! Great moon goddess!
Our ship was wrecked in a storm and shattered against the rocks.
We rebuilt a new vessel, but we have completely lost our bearings.
We prayed to you, asking you to guide us in the correct direction toward Troy."
Hearing this, Artemis's cool and beautiful face shifted into a faintly satisfied, slightly mischievous smile.
What a pity that aside from
Night, every other sailor had their head pressed to the ground, and not one of them saw it.
As for Night: "..."
Good grief, so you're using torture to extract a confession?
But that playful look is actually kind of adorable.
So this is what the moon goddess is really like?
Then again... moonlight technically is sunlight too.
Saying they were praying to the moon goddess isn't entirely wrong.
Noticing his gaze, Artemis quickly restored her cool expression, though her earlobes flushed faintly red, betraying that even she felt a little embarrassed somewhere deep inside.
She hurried to redirect the conversation. "The storm you encountered was a trial I sent.
Agamemnon once killed one of my beloved sacred deer, and only by offering up his own daughter did he barely manage to pacify my anger and open the path to Troy.
But my anger was never fully settled. Anyone who wishes to go and aid Agamemnon must pass my trial to earn the right to proceed to Troy."
...
She offered this as a convenient excuse.
Well ...she was certainly not going to admit she had set up a trial out of pure curiosity, specifically to create a reason to meet Night and get to him before anyone else could.
The sailors below had no idea about any of this.
After hearing the goddess's words, they finally understood.
So did that mean they had passed the trial now?
But a problem quickly occurred to some of them.
If the storm was a trial from Artemis, did that mean the sirens also counted as part of it?
"The siren creatures were not part of my trial. That was not my doing.
However, among all of you, only one person's performance was satisfactory to me."
When Artemis said this,
Every sailor instinctively looked toward Night, envy written clearly on their faces.
Whether it was the storm earlier or the sudden siren attack that followed, the person who turned everything around and saved everyone in the end was him, and his performance was on a completely different level from theirs.
If anyone's performance had truly satisfied the great Artemis, there was only one possible person it could be.
Lord Griffith.
Sure enough, a moment later they heard the goddess speak a familiar name. "Griffith Lista!"
At the same instant that Artemis called out Night's assumed name,
On the other side, Apollo's expression went completely green.
.
.
.
(End of the Chapter)