Legend tells that Aphrodite was born from the crest of a wave—her very name meaning "she who emerges from sea foam."
When Athena offered the sacrificial tribute and recited the ancient Latin incantation sacred to Aphrodite, the waters of this so-called "Beach of the Love Goddess" began bubbling as if boiling, countless iridescent spheres surfacing across its expanse.
These bubbles shimmered with extraordinary beauty, their prismatic radiance suffusing both the shoreline and the visible horizon. The entire sky seemed draped in magnificent rainbows, transforming the beach into a dreamlike vision—a fairy-tale landscape plucked from mortal fantasies.
Then, amid this surreal splendor, a female form of peerless beauty gradually rose from beneath the sea's surface.
She didn't appear particularly tall, appearing downright petite compared to Athena's adult form. Yet her figure was voluptuous, with perfectly balanced proportions. Judging by appearance alone, she looked like a girl of fourteen or fifteen, completely devoid of the mature sensibilities one might expect from the Goddess of Love and Beauty.
Roy had anticipated this, for most Earth Mother Goddesses bore such forms—outwardly youthful yet exuding an innate, alluring maturity. Guinevere was like this, Asherah was like this, and now Aphrodite, freshly summoned before him, was no exception.
Aphrodite wore a flowing white Greek-style gown, with a belt draped around her waist that trailed onto the sea's surface. This belt was the famed divine artifact of the Goddess of Love and Beauty, symbolizing love in ancient Greek mythology. Legend held that whoever wielded this ribbon could make any woman or goddess fall in love with them.
Her lustrous golden hair was elegantly coiled, matching the warmth of her golden eyes—deep yet gentle. Her skin was snow-white, almost unnaturally so, with two divine marks on her forehead enhancing her beauty with an air of noble grace. Delicate fingers, perky breasts, and rose-petal-soft feet that barely touched the sea's surface, sending ripples across the water as she stood poised like a swan. The sight was breathtaking enough to stir the hearts of any man or woman.
Legend claimed her slender, perfectly proportioned figure had won the fervent admiration of gods and the bitter envy of goddesses alike.
When Roy laid eyes on this so-called most beautiful goddess of Greek mythology, his breath caught. The overwhelming aura of love and desire washed over him, making even this Campione's pulse quicken and mouth go dry. The sensation was indescribable—so intense it could easily be mistaken for love, as though he had fallen for this exquisite woman.
In terms of mere appearance, Aphrodite was not overwhelmingly more beautiful than Athena in her adult form. However, as the goddess of war and wisdom, Athena carried an imposing, valiant aura—so much so that any man in her presence would focus less on her looks and more on her indomitable, battle-hardened spirit.
Aphrodite, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. She embodied the epitome of feminine grace, perfectly illustrating the saying that "women are made of water," evoking a tender protectiveness in men.
Even mortal women exemplified this contrast. Strong, decisive career women often intimidated men or made them feel inadequate, while delicate, coquettish women ignited their protective instincts and masculine pride.
Athena and Aphrodite were polar opposites in nature—so much so that it was no wonder Athena despised Aphrodite. Their compatibility was as stark as heaven and earth.
"She truly lives up to her title as the most beautiful and enchanting goddess," Roy couldn't help but murmur.
Indeed, Aphrodite's charm was unparalleled, capable of ensnaring even gods with her divine allure. Though Roy, as a Campione, harbored an instinctive revulsion toward Heretic Gods, he couldn't help but feel a strange, almost romantic fascination—as if a demon king had fallen for a goddess.
"Don't be fooled by her appearance!" Athena snapped coldly. "She's used that pitiful facade to deceive countless gods and mortals, weaving tragedies of love and betrayal!"
Suddenly, she reached out and deployed a move every woman had mastered—a sharp pinch to the waist.
The goddess of wisdom seemed displeased that Roy had been captivated by Aphrodite, applying slightly more force than necessary.
Unfortunately for her, Roy had endured Scáthach's merciless training in the Land of Shadows, granting him the highest pain tolerance in the world. After forging his "Holy Child's Body," such pain was little more than a mosquito bite. While this body had robbed him of certain pleasures, it had also granted him formidable combat prowess.
Realizing her womanly tactic had failed, Athena released him with a huff. Far from being annoyed by Roy's lack of reaction—unlike the usual groveling of mortal men—she found herself rather pleased.
As the goddess of war, she admired heroic, indomitable warriors, not simpering weaklings who cowered before women.
"Oh my~ If it isn't Lady Athena?" Aphrodite's voice dripped with honeyed languor as she spoke, her delicate fingers—radiant as gathered starlight—covering her lips in feigned surprise. Though her tone was sweetly concerned, her words were laced with venomous mockery.
"How tragic that you've lost the Gorgon Stone! Not only has your figure become so... unflattering, but your power has dwindled to such pitiful levels. And to think you'd summon me with a servant's ritual—could it be you need my help?"
She sighed dramatically, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, since you've stooped so low as to ask, as your fellow goddess, I suppose I must do my utmost to assist you in your time of need!"
Athena's expression was cold and indifferent as she stared at Aphrodite, but the amber hues in her eyes gradually darkened with the night, revealing that she was not the type of woman to remain unruffled when mocked to her face. It was merely the boldness in her temperament that kept her from outright losing her temper...
Aphrodite, completely oblivious to the atmosphere—or perhaps simply accustomed to doing as she pleased—never hesitated to speak her mind, never concealing her inner thoughts.
The beautiful goddess shifted her gaze lightly, glancing at Athena before turning to Roy, who stood by Athena's side.
Athena might have been aware of her own emotions, but she would never admit them outright. As the goddess of love, however, Aphrodite saw through Athena's feelings at a glance. This time, there was no pretense in Aphrodite's eyes—only genuine astonishment as she exclaimed in disbelief, "...The proud Athena of Greek myth, who rejected all men, has actually developed feelings for a Campione? This would surely be sensational news on Mount Olympus!"
"...How does that saying from the East go again? Something about erecting a memorial archway? But then again, Goddess Athena is still Goddess Athena—even the lover she chooses happens to be exactly my type!"
Aphrodite's soft gaze lingered on Roy, brimming with what seemed like affection. However, Roy, who had already discerned the nature of her divinity, knew this wasn't because the goddess truly fancied him—rather, this was simply how she looked at everyone, which was precisely why people flocked to her.
As the goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite was a pure 'looks supremacist.' To earn her admiration, one didn't need to display extraordinary strength or heroic valor—none of that mattered to her. All it took was a handsome face.
Roy, who had inherited Aleister's androgynous beauty—appealing to both men and women—was exactly Aphrodite's type.
"O Campione, why not leave Athena's side and come to me instead? I can grant you the most beautiful woman in the world and the most intoxicating love~~"
Just as she had once tempted Paris, sparking the Trojan War, Aphrodite now uttered the same seductive words in the modern era. And as fate would have it, the goddesses present recreated that very scene—only this time, Queen Hera was missing.
"Roy, sew this woman's poisonous mouth shut—don't let her utter another word!"
Athena, unable to endure any longer, snapped furiously.
***
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