This was the poem of a hero.
The kind of story the gods of Greece loved most.
Night's courage won the recognition of the gods.
Seeing that the situation was already beyond reversing, the god of light Apollo suddenly spoke up and said with sorrow...
What a tragedy this was.
They were sending a musician, a wandering bard, to pick up a weapon and fight against powerful heroes.
Were they going to kill heroes with strong and seasoned bodies and trained in combat using lute strings?
This was an unfair fight!
Down on the earth...
Even the queen of the Amazons could not help but frown as she listened.
Though he was an enemy, and more likely than not someone she would end up fighting in the battle ahead.
But looking at that calm and beautiful face that stirred a sense of tender pity in whoever saw it,
Penthesilea seemed to somewhat understand why her sister Hippolyta grew so obsessed with a hero and in the end was deceived and met that terrible fate.
Only, the type she liked was not the wild type nor the powerfully built type.
Not until she saw that bewitching face did she realize that even as a warrior, she was still a woman.
At the sight of a handsome man, her face still turned red.
This felt unavoidably regrettable.
If a person this beautiful, as breathtaking as a painted scroll one could not bear to see broken, were to die on the battlefield because of poor weapons and armor, that would be too much of a waste.
Of course...
Penthesilea had no intention of holding back because of this.
If anything, as a demigod who stepped onto this battlefield carrying the hatred her sister Hippolyta left behind, for her, anyone standing on the Greek side was her enemy.
Especially any hero connected to the great hero Heracles.
They should die at her own hands.
She was not the type of warrior whose feet stopped moving at the sight of beauty.
At most, like in her original myth when she was slain by Achilles and her helmet was knocked off to reveal a beautiful face, she might sigh a few words of regret.
She would most likely also sigh a few words after cutting Night down...
Such a beautiful person dying on a battlefield, dying at her own hands.
What a shame.
In the women's kingdom of the Amazons, finding men meant going out to find them yourself and knocking one out and dragging him back if you took a liking to him.
One who could satisfy the demands of successive queens was not so easy to come by.
To be honest, she hoped the Greek side was smart enough to send this Griffith out last.
That way perhaps he would not have to die at her hands.
For example, dying at the end of Hector's spear...
Dying at the hands of the strongest warrior of Troy, that would still preserve a great deal of dignity and glory for him.
That was the best ending one could hope for him.
"With those slender arms and legs, and skin so soft and delicate it put beautiful girls to shame, does he really look like someone who can fight?"
Penthesilea, who was often judged by appearances herself and even took to wearing full-coverage armor because of it, could not help doing the very thing she hated most in her daily life.
Judging by appearances!
And at this moment...
Up in the heavens, alongside Apollo's questioning.
The gods also recalled that the other party's hero title came from being a musician and not any kind of proper combat unit.
They almost forgot.
The one who slew the dragon was his grandfather Kratos, not this Griffith.
But since God-King Zeus already spoke, there was absolutely no taking back the order.
The gods instantly understood...
This was Apollo speaking up to win benefits for that hero.
And at this moment Athena spoke.
"In that case, I have a suggestion. Why not let Griffith wear Achilles's armor?"
Let Griffith fight wearing Achilles's armor?
Achilles's armor was indeed a rare and exceptional set, coveted even by the heroes themselves.
But his equipment was not something just anyone could wear.
Warriors with weaker strength, even if they wore such top-tier armor, would find it very difficult to perform at their original level of combat ability.
His original companion A, Patroclus, was one such case.
And the scapegoat currently beaten half to death, Palamedes, was another.
Did Athena believe the other party could fight while wearing such top-tier armor?
Zeus also said. "That is indeed not a bad idea..."
Athena continued.
"Then let Hermes make a trip as well. Have him go find Achilles and bring his spear over too. With only armor and a shield but no weapon... a warrior cannot win victory."
Zeus instantly ordered.
"Hermes, go make the trip."
Hermes nodded. Right, the errand boy again. He was well used to this.
Finding Achilles, as long as the other party was not deliberately hiding, was actually quite easy.
Hermes used his power to look around and explore for a moment, then flew specifically to the seaside.
When he learned from the god Hermes that his weapons were to be borrowed...
On the shore, Achilles instinctively refused.
And then when he heard who it was that would be wearing his armor and weapons.
"Say that again. Who is representing Greece in the battle?"
Hermes: "It is Griffith. Descendant of the dragon-slaying hero, offspring of Kratos. The hero Griffith."
Achilles: "...
"Alright then. Take the weapons. Since it is for the sake of Greece."
Hearing his words, Hermes was stunned.
You were absolutely not saying that a second ago.
You had that look on your face like you were one step away from taking your frustration out on me.
Though he did not know why Achilles suddenly changed his mind, as long as the other party agreed, that was enough.
After all, the sea nymph was his mother and Zeus was his grandfather.
If it was not necessary, Hermes had no desire to get into a pointless argument with this demigod.
And as Hermes left with Achilles's spear, though for mortals the weapon was difficult to even lift, for the god Hermes there was naturally no such restriction.
And as Achilles watched the god depart, a look of mockery and amusement flashed through his eyes.
Ha.
They were actually sending a Trojan to represent Greece in battle.
Though he had no idea what was going on with that person.
But then, thinking back to that strike that once defeated him, that meteor technique that replicated his own ultimate move,
Achilles felt a little anticipation to see what kind of expression the heroes and gods would all have when his own ultimate technique appeared on the battlefield again.
At the same time, on the other side.
Hermes quickly flew back, bringing with him Achilles's spear.
When they saw that familiar set of equipment, the heroes of both the Greek and Trojan sides turned their gazes over, and looks of longing and burning desire appeared on their faces.
And at this moment, Palamedes, seriously wounded and having just barely regained consciousness, learned that Night would be taking his place to fight in the battle.
Hearing that even gods temporarily suppressed their thoughts of punishment because of this, Palamedes was deeply moved.
He wanted to properly thank Night, but after seeing the gods bring Achilles's spear for Night, Palamedes could not help but speak up. "Achilles's spear is powerful, but it is not something an ordinary hero can lift.
Patroclus once said so, and afterward I refused to believe it and tried for myself. Sure enough, I could not move that weapon even slightly.
King Agamemnon!! Go quickly and tell him to choose a different weapon!!"
Not wanting Night to embarrass himself in front of all the heroes, Palamedes hurried to speak to Odysseus and King Agamemnon, who were at his side after he woke.
.
.
.
(End of the Chapter)