I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC315: Triumph of Troy: Priam's Rewards
"Silence, please."
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I turned my head as King Priam rose from his seat, his aged but powerful presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room.
The feast stilled. The murmurs ceased.
And in the heavy silence that followed, I knew something important was about to be said.
Finally.
It was time for me to ask Kassandra's hand.
A hush fell over the grand hall the moment Priam raised his hand, signaling for silence. The lively chatter and bursts of laughter faded almost instantly as all eyes turned toward him. The air, once filled with the clinking of cups and the murmur of victorious revelry, now grew still in anticipation.
Priam stood tall, his regal bearing emphasized by the flickering torchlight that illuminated the chamber. A bright smile graced his face—a stark contrast to the man I had first met. Back then, he had appeared weary, burdened by the looming specter of war, his every step weighed down by the fear of Troy's downfall. Yet now, with victory secured, those worries seemed to have melted away, replaced by a triumphant radiance befitting a king.
"We have triumphed against the invaders—the Greeks!" Priam's voice rang out, strong.
A thunderous roar of approval erupted from the gathered Trojans, their voices rising in unison. Cups were lifted high, wine spilling over the edges in their enthusiasm. The hall trembled with the force of their joy, the echoes of their celebration bouncing off the marble columns and high, vaulted ceilings.
Priam chuckled at their enthusiasm, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He raised a hand once more, allowing the cheers to settle before continuing.
"We have crushed the mighty Greek kings! We have stood victorious against Agamemnon himself—the ruler of Mycenae—whose armies were once feared as the strongest force on the continent!"
Another wave of cheers surged forth, louder than before, shaking the very foundations of the palace. The Trojans, their pride shining through, laughed heartily, relishing their triumph.
From the moment I arrived, I had sensed the deep-rooted rivalry between the Greeks and the Trojans. Even before the war, the two nations had long harbored a competitive animosity. The Greeks prided themselves on their military prowess, their warriors trained from birth for battle. The Trojans, on the other hand, had always been known for their impregnable walls, their city heralded as an unbreakable bastion. But their soldiers? Their commanders? Many had believed them to be inferior to the disciplined Greek forces.
And in some ways, they weren't wrong.
The Greeks produced warriors of unparalleled discipline—hardened veterans, tacticians, and commanders who had spent decades perfecting the art of war. Compared to them, Troy's army had seemed weaker, less fearsome.
But they hadn't counted on Hector. And they certainly hadn't counted on me.
While I had done much to turn the tides of war, I knew that without Hector, Troy would have fallen. Whenever exhaustion forced me to rest, Hector stood alone on the battlefield, his sword carving a path through the enemy ranks. He carried the weight of Troy's survival on his shoulders, never faltering, never yielding. Even when I fell—when I was taken from this world—he alone had kept the city standing.
He was everything a prince should be. Everything a king must be.
And one day, he would wear the crown of Troy.
Priam's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "First, I will honor the great commanders who protected our city!" His gaze swept across the gathered warriors before he called their names.
"Atalanta! Penthesilea! Aeneas! Pollux!"
At his summons, four figures stepped forward.
Atalanta, fierce and unyielding, stood with the grace of a huntress, her golden hair catching the firelight. Penthesilea, the Amazonian queen, exuded an aura of quiet strength, her piercing gaze unwavering. Aeneas, ever steadfast, carried himself with the dignity of a man who had fought not for glory, but for the future of his people. And Pollux, battle-hardened and unshakable, met the king's eyes with the silent pride of a warrior who had faced the worst and emerged victorious.
"They have fought with valor," Priam declared. "They have stood as unshakable shields, guarding our walls, leading our warriors, and turning the tides of battle in our favor. Because of them, Troy still stands!"
A new wave of cheers erupted, this one laced with gratitude and admiration.
"Now," Priam continued, his expression warm, "speak your desires, and you shall be rewarded."
Penthesilea was the first to step forward, her movements filled with confidence and purpose. A knowing grin played on her lips, her sharp eyes gleaming with an untamed fire. The Queen of the Amazons was not one to hesitate, and as she stood before Priam, her presence alone commanded attention.
She and her Amazons had joined this war not for conquest or glory but for the thrill of battle itself. They sought worthy opponents, and what better stage than a war against the famed Greek kings? That was why I found myself particularly curious about what she would ask for now that the war was over.
Penthesilea was no ordinary warrior pleading for a reward—she was a queen, equal to any ruler standing in this hall. There was no need for nervousness, no place for meekness. She had earned her due.
With a clear and unwavering voice, she spoke.
"King Priam," she began, her tone bold, "I ask that my Amazons and I be granted the finest armor and weapons Troy has to offer. In addition, we require provisions of food for the next month to sustain us on our journey back. And lastly, I ask for capable hands to help us transport and bury our fallen sisters, so they may rest as warriors should."
The hall fell silent for a brief moment. Priam's brows lifted in slight surprise, perhaps expecting a demand of greater magnitude. I, too, had thought she might ask for something more—land, wealth, or even political influence in Troy. Yet, her request was simple, practical, and befitting a warrior.
"That is the least we can do for you, Queen Penthesilea," Priam said, his voice warm with gratitude. "I shall order my men to assist you with all that you require. And beyond that, we will also gift you gold as a token of our appreciation."
Penthesilea chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "We Amazons are not so greedy, King Priam. Gold does not sustain us in the forests we call home. But I will not refuse a gift freely given." Her laughter was rich and full of life, and as she turned back toward her warriors, her request granted, there was a satisfied ease in her posture.
Next, Pollux stepped forward.
Unlike Penthesilea, whose pride lay in her people, Pollux stood alone. His steps were measured, his face composed, though the weight of loss still lingered in his expression. The war had taken much from him. His twin brother, Castor, was gone. Sparta, the land that should have been his, had been reclaimed by his distant uncle. With no kingdom to return to and no family left to embrace, he had chosen another path—the sea.
Standing before Priam, he bowed his head slightly before making his request.
"I wish for nothing more than a sturdy ship and a capable crew, my King," he said. "Along with provisions to last three months and a set of weapons to defend myself."
It was a simple request, but I understood the meaning behind it. Pollux had lost everything that tied him to land, and now, he sought solace in the vast, open ocean. A journey with no set destination—perhaps an escape, or perhaps a search for something yet unknown.
Truthfully, I had offered him a place in Tenebria, and even Helen had urged him to stay, hoping to give him a new home. But he had refused. There was something he needed to do alone.
Priam regarded him for a moment before nodding, a small smile forming on his lips. "You shall have them," he said simply.
Pollux nodded in return, his expression unreadable, and with that, he stepped back into the crowd.
Finally, Aeneas stepped forward.
Unlike the others, there was no hesitation in his stance, no indecision in his eyes. He was a man who had already found his purpose. And so, when he spoke, his words carried the weight of unwavering loyalty.
"I ask for nothing, Your Majesty," he said firmly. "Only the right to continue serving Troy and to stand by Prince Hector's side."
As he spoke, he turned his gaze toward Hector, a silent vow passing between them.
Hector's smile widened, pride shining in his eyes. He gave a firm nod toward his father, as if to say that he welcomed Aeneas' loyalty.
Priam chuckled softly, his expression betraying genuine joy. Aeneas was a man of honor, one who had proven himself time and time again, and knowing that such a warrior would remain at Hector's side no doubt put the king's heart at ease.
"We are grateful to have you with us," Priam said, his tone warm. "But think carefully—surely there must be something else you desire. You have earned it."
Aeneas simply nodded, but said nothing more, stepping back into his place.
Lastly, Atalanta stepped forward, her movements as fluid and graceful as ever. Unlike the others before her, there was no trace of hesitation or deep contemplation in her expression. She knew exactly what she wanted.
The air grew quiet as she faced King Priam, her green eyes gleaming under the flickering torchlight. No wealth, no land, no titles—none of those things mattered to her.
When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, steady, and without embellishment.
"I have nothing to ask for myself," she said. "Only that a temple be built in honor of my Goddess, Artemis."
A hushed murmur passed through the gathered Trojans. It was an unusual request, yet not entirely unexpected. Atalanta had always been fiercely devoted to the goddess of the hunt, a woman who had rejected the life of nobility and instead devoted herself to the wilds. Her victories in this war, her strength, and even her presence here—none of it was for personal gain. It was all for Artemis.
Priam regarded her with a thoughtful gaze before nodding.
"There was no need to ask," he said. "We have already begun preparations to erect statues for both Aphrodite and Artemis. Your goddess shall be honored in Troy, as she deserves."
Atalanta inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, her expression unchanging.
"Then I am already rewarded," she said simply before stepping back, saying nothing more.
There was no need for further words. Priam, wise as he was, did not press her. He understood well enough the significance of her devotion. Atalanta was one of Artemis' chosen, one of the goddess' sacred huntresses. To handle her with care and respect was not just an act of diplomacy—it was a necessity.
With her request granted, the hall settled once more. The weight of the moment was not lost on anyone, for with Atalanta's final words, the distribution of rewards had come to an end or not completely.
Priam, now standing at the center of it all, cast a glance toward Hector, who met his gaze with a small smile. There was a brief, silent exchange between father and son—an understanding passed between them that needed no words.
Then, together, they turned to face me.
Priam's voice rang out, firm and clear.
"Heiron, step forward."
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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC316: Priam's great reward to Nathan
Priam, now standing at the center of it all, cast a glance toward Hector, who met his gaze with a small smile. There was a brief, silent exchange between father and son—an understanding passed between them that needed no words.
Then, together, they turned to face me.
Priam's voice rang out, firm and clear.
"Heiron, step forward."
As soon as my name was called, I stepped forward. The grand hall fell into a respectful silence, the air thick with anticipation. I could feel their gazes upon me—hundreds of eyes watching, evaluating, admiring. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the polished marble floors, reflecting the solemnity of the moment. Though the gathered lords, knights, and nobles smiled brightly, there was a reverence in their expressions, a silent acknowledgment of what had transpired on the battlefield.
King Priam, seated upon his grand throne, his regal presence commanding the room, finally spoke. His voice, though aged, carried the weight of wisdom and authority.
"Heiron," he began, his gaze steady upon me. "You were once a mercenary, a blade for hire, and yet you have accomplished more for Troy than any could have foreseen."
His words echoed through the vast chamber. Only a select few—Priam himself, the royal Trojan family, and a handful of trusted figures like Aeneas and Atalanta—knew my true identity. I had asked Priam to keep my origins a secret, at least for now. With so many Trojan knights and dignitaries gathered here, it would be unwise to reveal the truth.
"I only did my duty, Your Majesty," I responded, my voice even and unwavering.
Priam smiled knowingly, his expression touched with something deeper than mere gratitude. "Perhaps," he mused, "but the deeds you have performed transcend mere duty. What you have done is the stuff of legend. When the bards sing of this war, your name will be woven into their songs, carried on the lips of men across the world." He let out a hearty laugh, and the nobles around him joined in, their voices filled with admiration rather than mockery.
"I am honored by your words," I said, bowing slightly.
It was true—my name would likely spread across the entire Greek continent, spoken in awe and disbelief. But I cared little for such things. I had not fought for fame or for glory. My purpose in this war had always been my own.
Priam's eyes gleamed with appreciation. "As you should be," he continued, his voice carrying across the room. "Jason of the Argonauts. Ajax the Great. Heracles. Agamemnon. These are names that have shaken the world, names that inspire both fear and admiration." He leaned forward slightly, his expression filled with wonder. "And yet… you, Heiron, have defeated them all."
A murmur rippled through the gathered nobles—some nodding in agreement, others shaking their heads in astonishment.
"To say it aloud feels almost absurd," Priam chuckled, glancing at the other kings and warlords seated in attendance. They, too, smiled, their expressions ranging from disbelief to admiration.
"When this war began, and these names—these so-called giants of the world—were set against us, I will admit, I was afraid," Priam confessed. "We all were. Though Troy boasted great warriors and mighty defenders, we were still outnumbered. The odds were stacked against us." He exhaled, his voice growing softer. "And yet, you showed us something greater than numbers, greater than mere strength."
He rose from his throne, his gaze locking onto mine with unwavering sincerity.
"Your power, your words, and your unwavering resolve… they have touched us all. They have shaped the course of history. Heiron, Troy will forever be in your debt."
I nodded in acknowledgment. There was no need for modesty—not after everything Priam had just said. His words rang true, and I had no reason to refute them.
"And thus, we come to your reward," Priam continued, his tone shifting slightly, carrying a note of amusement. "You have postponed far too many rewards that should have rightfully been yours. In truth, I never imagined that I would one day find myself in a position where I would have to beg someone to accept a reward."
A hearty laugh escaped his lips, and soon Hector and the other gathered nobles joined in, their mirth echoing through the grand hall.
I allowed myself a small, knowing smile. It was true—I had already received enough gold to last several lifetimes. Transporting more would be an inconvenience, though that didn't mean I would refuse it outright. Still, at this moment, I had no pressing need for wealth.
Priam, sensing my thoughts, smiled knowingly. "That is why," he said, his voice carrying an air of anticipation, "I have a different kind of reward for you. I hope you will consider it worthy."
I lifted my gaze in curiosity, my interest piqued. What could he possibly offer me that was not gold or titles?
No… I already knew what I wanted. Kassandra.
As if responding to my unspoken desire, Priam slowly extended his hand.
"My daughter, Kassandra."
At the sound of her name, Kassandra rose to her feet. Her movements were graceful yet slightly hesitant, a mixture of nerves and anticipation evident in her expression. She smiled—softly at first, then brighter, her deep eyes locking onto mine.
"Would you accept my daughter, Kassandra, as your wife?" Priam asked, his tone both formal and earnest. "I have heard that you already have wives, but I have no doubt that you will care for her as deeply as you have cared for Troy itself. Since your arrival, you have protected her time and time again, and I can only imagine how well you would treat her as your wife."
A hush fell over the hall. The weight of his words settled upon me.
It seemed that Kassandra had already spoken to Priam about this, and to my mild surprise, he had agreed without much hesitation. I had expected him to be more reluctant, given that I was neither of royal blood nor a native of Troy. Perhaps it was my status as a summoned hero that swayed him, or the fact that I held the rank of Lord Commander in another kingdom.
Or maybe, just maybe, he simply didn't care for such formalities and only wished for his daughter's happiness.
Regardless of his reasons, I found myself smiling.
"I will accept Kassandra with great pleasure," I said, my voice steady and sincere. "I swear to cherish her, to protect her, and to ensure that she is even happier than she is now."
At my declaration, a triumphant cheer erupted among the gathered Trojan soldiers. Hector and Aeneas, seated at the head of the warriors, were the first to raise their cups, leading the men in a celebratory toast. Their voices rang out, filled with approval and camaraderie.
Priam laughed, his expression warm. "I had no doubts that you would accept," he said, his gaze flickering toward his daughter, who was now blushing lightly under the weight of so many approving eyes. "Then it is decided. I will prepare a grand wedding to take place in a month's time. A union such as this deserves nothing less than a celebration worthy of Troy's greatest hero."
He paused before adding, "Can you wait until then?"
"Of course," I nodded without hesitation.
I had planned to leave Troy in a few days, but I would not mind returning for Kassandra. No matter what awaited me beyond these walls, I would come back for her.
And when I did, she would be mine.
"Then perfect! Let us all raise our cups to Heiron, who is now officially a Trojan!" Priam declared, his deep voice echoing across the grand hall as he lifted his golden goblet high.
A thunderous roar of approval followed, the sound of hundreds of voices blending into one, shaking the very walls of the palace. The knights, nobles, and warriors of Troy cheered with renewed vigor, their cups clashing together as wine spilled over in celebration.
I took in the sight, letting the moment sink in. If I married Kassandra, I would no longer be just a mercenary or an outsider—I would be seen as a true Trojan, a member of their people. No longer a foreigner bound by temporary alliances but one of them, someone who would be welcomed within these walls whenever I returned.
Among the revelers, my gaze fell upon Queen Hecuba. Though her face bore the lingering traces of dried tears—a testament to the grief she still carried for the loss of Paris—there was something softer in her expression now, a quiet relief. Kassandra, her most unfortunate daughter, had found happiness. Perhaps that eased the sorrow in her heart, even if just a little.
To the side, I spotted Polyxena, a playful glint in her eye as she leaned toward Kassandra, whispering something in her ear. Whatever she said had Kassandra turning red.
The feast surged forward with even greater intensity. Servants rushed about, refilling goblets with honeyed wine, while musicians played their lyres and flutes in a wild, rhythmic harmony. Plates were filled, emptied, and filled again with roasted meats, fruits dripping in syrup, and fragrant loaves of bread. Laughter and song wove together in an unrelenting storm of revelry. It became clear that no one intended to sleep for the next few days.
But I had no desire to linger any longer.
After exchanging final pleasantries, I made my exit, bidding farewell to Atalanta, who was also preparing to leave. "Take care," she said simply, though there was something thoughtful in her gaze, as if she had more to say.
I nodded. There were things I needed to deal with—Artemis, for one. But other pressing matters loomed on the horizon, demanding my attention.
The corridors were eerily empty as I walked through them, a stark contrast to the chaos of the feast. Laughter and the clinking of goblets echoed faintly from the great hall, but here, in the dimly lit passageways of the palace, there was only silence. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows against the stone walls as I made my way to my chambers.
When I pushed open the heavy wooden door, I wasn't surprised to see her.
Helen.
She sat on my bed, illuminated by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the window. Dressed in a delicate white negligee, she looked ethereal—her golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her gold eyes cast downward, filled with an emotion I could not quite name.
"You weren't at the feast," I remarked, closing the door behind me.
Helen didn't look up immediately. She traced the fabric of the sheets with absent fingers, her posture hesitant. "I don't think I deserve to be there…" she murmured, her voice tinged with sadness.
I sighed, stepping closer. "You deserve to be there as much as anyone else. Your sister was there."
Helen let out a dry, humorless laugh. "She didn't cause the war," she whispered, her words heavy with self-reproach.
"HMM!"
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Before she could continue lamenting, before she could once again let guilt consume her, I silenced her in the only way I knew how.
I leaned in, and kissed her.
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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC320 A year of Separation....
Chapter 320 A year of Separation....
As I pulled out, a thick, almost absurd amount of my seed mingled with Helen's overflowing fluids, spilling out in a glistening stream. The sheer volume was astonishing—enough that even the deep crimson of her blood had faded into a lighter pink, some traces disappearing entirely beneath the flood of release.
I took a step back from the sweat-drenched bed, surveying the aftermath. The sheets were in complete disarray, twisted and damp with the evidence of our sex. My body, surprisingly, was still brimming with energy. I wasn't exhausted in the slightest—physically, at least. But mentally? There was an undeniable sense of satisfaction, a deep, primal fulfillment that came from claiming the most beautiful woman in the world. After such an experience, how could I not feel this way?
Helen lay before me, utterly ravaged. Her legs, still spread wide, trembled faintly as the last remnants of pleasure shuddered through her. Her most sacred place, glistening and still leaking, was on full display, the aftermath of our union slowly spilling onto the ruined sheets. Her face, flushed a deep shade of red, was a mess of sweat and exhaustion. Her golden hair clung to her damp skin in chaotic strands, framing the dazed expression of a woman utterly broken in pleasure. And her breasts—marked with my bites, covered in faint bruises, swollen from my relentless attention—rose and fell with each uneven breath she took.
A part of me—no, most of me—wanted to take fuck her again. My desire flared at the sight of her wrecked body, at the way she twitched from overstimulation, at the way she had succumbed completely to me. But I forced myself to resist. She needed rest, and I… I had other matters to attend to.
Silently, I turned away, stepping into the adjacent chamber where warm water awaited me. The moment I submerged myself beneath the cascade, I let the heat wash over me, cleansing away the sweat, the lingering traces of our coupling, the remnants of the past hours. The scent of blood, sex, and sweat was finally replaced by something cleaner, something neutral.
After drying off, I dressed in fresh clothes, the cool fabric settling against my skin as I prepared to leave. I cast one final glance at Helen, still sprawled on the bed, her breathing slow and steady, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. The temptation to stay lingered, but duty called.
I stepped out of the chamber and walked through the dimly lit halls of the palace. Outside, the city was still alive with celebration—feasting, drinking, singing. The echoes of Troy's revelry filled the night, but I had no desire to be seen or spoken to. With practiced ease, I navigated through the shadows, avoiding the revelers entirely before reaching the towering walls of the city. In a single effortless leap, I vaulted over them, landing silently on the other side.
The battlefield stretched before me, eerily empty. The war that had raged here for months had left its scars, but the bodies of both Greeks and Trojans had long been cleared away. Only the faintest stains of blood remained, dark smudges against the sand, whispering of the countless lives lost beneath these moonlit skies.
I walked forward, my hands tucked into my pockets, my stride unhurried. The cool night breeze kissed my skin, carrying with it a crispness that had been absent for far too long. The air no longer smelled of blood, no longer reeked of death and steel.
For the first time in months, I could finally breathe some good air not reeking of blood.
But my reason for walking alone through the barren landscape had nothing to do with enjoying the fresh night air.
Not at all.
I moved with quiet purpose, my steps steady as I left the outskirts of Troy behind. The distant sounds of revelry from the city faded into the background, swallowed by the silence of the abandoned battlefield. The cool breeze whispered against my skin, but my mind was elsewhere. My thoughts were fixed on what lay ahead.
After ten minutes of walking, I came to a stop. My voice, calm and commanding, cut through the stillness of the night.
"Drakkias."
In an instant, the air trembled with power. A golden radiance illuminated the darkness, and from the void of the sky, a massive form descended. The mighty dragon, Drakkias, appeared before me, his scales gleaming under the moonlight like molten gold. His eyes, ancient and wise, met mine as he lowered his head in acknowledgment.
Without hesitation, I climbed onto his back. With a single powerful motion, he unfurled his immense wings, the force of it stirring the sand beneath us. Then, with a mighty leap, we soared into the night, leaving Troy far behind.
Our destination was a peculiar place—Lyrnessus.
The journey would have taken days on foot, but with Drakkias, we covered the vast distance in less than half an hour. The ruined city soon came into view, its once-proud structures now reduced to rubble. The air here was different, thick with the weight of destruction and abandonment.
As we descended, I leaped off Drakkias' back before he even landed. The moment my feet touched the ground, I turned to him.
"Go."
With a huff of acknowledgment, Drakkias spread his golden wings once more and vanished into the sky, leaving me alone in the desolate ruins.
Lyrnessus was a shadow of what it once had been. The city lay in ruin, its streets lifeless, its buildings crumbling under the weight of time and war. Yet, amidst the destruction, one structure remained standing—the castle.
Without hesitation, I made my way toward it.
The air inside was eerily still as I strode through the abandoned halls, my footsteps echoing against the stone walls. Dust clung to the remnants of past grandeur, but I ignored it all. My destination was clear—the throne room.
As I stepped inside, I came to a halt at the center of the vast chamber.
Then, it began.
A soft glow, pink and divine, flickered into existence, spreading throughout the throne hall like a living force. The very air shimmered as a powerful barrier surged forth, enclosing the entire chamber in an impenetrable dome of radiant light. This was no ordinary magic. This was a Divine Barrier—an impenetrable veil that shielded everything within from the eyes, ears, and senses of other gods.
A moment later, she appeared.
Aphrodite.
She materialized in a gentle burst of pink radiance, her presence as intoxicating as the sweetest perfume. Her pink hair cascaded around her shoulders in silken waves, and her full lips curved into a soft, knowing smile. But before I could even utter a word, she vanished—only to reappear directly in front of me.
Before I could react, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a warm embrace.
Her body pressed against mine, soft and impossibly warm. Her ample breasts—undoubtedly the largest I had ever seen—molded against my chest, her hardened nipples faintly pressing through the thin fabric separating us. The scent of her—sweet, floral, and utterly divine—filled my lungs, intoxicating me.
"I'm happy for you, Nate," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper. "You've finally healed your body."
"I have," I confirmed, my voice steady.
Then, without another word, I leaned in and captured her lips.
Aphrodite responded instantly, her body melting against mine as I pulled her waist closer, deepening the kiss. My tongue traced her lips, teasing, demanding entry. She moaned softly into my mouth, her hands gripping the fabric of my clothes as if anchoring herself.
"Hmmnn❤️~~" A soft, needy sound escaped her as I toyed with her lips, savoring her taste.
When I finally pulled away, Aphrodite's cheeks were flushed a delicate shade of pink, her breath uneven.
"And you played no small part in that journey," I said, my voice low and appreciative.
"Fufufu…" She chuckled, stepping back with an elegant sway of her hips. "I merely did the smallest part."
I allowed myself a small smile, but it quickly faded as I met her gaze with renewed seriousness.
"Is it truly time?" I asked.
"It is," she affirmed, her expression turning soft yet resolute. "Everything is ready, don't worry. Are you ready to finally see her, Nate? After all this time… after an entire year?"
There was no hesitation in my answer.
"I am."
Aphrodite gave me a knowing smile before stepping aside, her movements graceful as ever.
The divine barrier around us pulsed, its pink glow intensifying. A swirl of radiant energy gathered in the air, shimmering and twisting, as if the very fabric of divinity was bending to a higher will. Then, in the space before me, the swirling mass of light condensed—taking shape, solidifying into a portal bathed in ethereal pink radiance.
My breath caught in my throat.
It had been more than a year since I had last seen her. A year filled with war, bloodshed, and endless struggles. And yet… it felt like an eternity.
A lifetime.
Something inside me quaked, an unfamiliar trembling deep in my chest. I had longed for this moment, craved it so many times that it had become an ache buried beneath layers of discipline and restraint. But I had held myself back—for her sake. For her safety.
There were nights when I had convinced myself that I would never see her again. That I had lost the right. That I would die before this day could ever come.
But now…
Now, that moment had finally arrived.
The air grew still.
From within the radiant portal, a shadow began to take form.
Soft footsteps echoed as a figure emerged, stepping through the veil of light.
A white gown fluttered gently as she moved.
The same kind of dress Khione always wore.
I felt my breath hitch.
I had spent a lifetime preparing for battle, steeling myself against all things. And yet, at this moment, standing here, watching her step into the world once more—
I felt unprepared.
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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC321: Reunion with Khione
Chapter 321: Reunion with Khione
Soft footsteps echoed as a figure emerged, stepping through the veil of light.
A white gown fluttered gently as she moved.
The same kind of dress Khione always wore.
I felt my breath hitch.
I had spent a lifetime preparing for battle, steeling myself against all things. And yet, at this moment, standing here, watching her step into the world once more—
I felt unprepared.
Her foot stepped forward, emerging from the glowing portal—graceful, poised, and clad in elegant white heels. The hem of her gown followed, flowing like a whisper of wind, concealing the delicate curves of her body.
Then, I saw her skin.
That same flawless, snow-white complexion, once unique to her alone—yet now, I shared it too. The moonlight touched her exposed shoulders, gliding down her slender neck and collarbone. Her long, silken white hair cascaded down her back, shining like freshly fallen snow.
And then, her face.
Her soft, perfect lips.
Her delicate, elegant nose.
And those eyes—those icy blue eyes that had always captivated me.
Looking at her now, I remembered everything.
The moment I first fell for her.
The reason she would always be my first.
The one I could never replace.
Her expression remained cold, as always—but there was something different. A subtle change, a softness that had never been there before.
And then, I saw why.
She was holding something.
No—someone.
A baby.
Small and fragile, wrapped in soft white cloth. The child rested peacefully in her arms, undisturbed by the cool night breeze, its tiny chest rising and falling in deep slumber.
I stood frozen.
A baby.
My baby.
I turned to Aphrodite without thinking, still trying to process what I was seeing.
She smiled—a knowing, mischievous smile.
"She wanted to keep it a secret for your reunion."
I barely heard her. My eyes remained fixed on the child, on the small, delicate life that had come into this world while I was gone.
Khione took slow, careful steps toward me, stopping just inches away. Then, without a word, she extended the baby toward me.
I hesitated.
My hands—hands that had fought, killed, and destroyed without a second thought—now trembled as I reached out. Gently, more carefully than I had ever moved before, I took the child into my arms.
It was so light. So delicate.
So… beautiful.
I held my breath, afraid even the sound of my heartbeat might wake it.
This was mine.
"What's the name?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel something swelling inside me—something overwhelming, something I had never felt before.
Is this how my mother felt when she first held me?
Khione's gaze remained steady as she spoke.
"I didn't give her a name."
I looked up, surprised. *She didn't?*
She nodded.
"I thought you should be the one to name her."
She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against the baby's head, stroking the fine strands of hair. The gesture was so gentle, so unlike the Khione I knew.
I couldn't find the words to respond.
"Why did you keep it?" I finally asked, my voice quieter, more uncertain than before.
A part of me had believed she wouldn't. After everything that had happened, I had thought she would never want to raise a child from me.
But she had.
She had chosen to.
Khione met my gaze, her face unreadable at first. Then, slowly, her eyes softened, and she spoke.
"Despite everything, you were my only true bond."
Her gaze lowered to the baby in my arms, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she smiled. A real, soft, gentle smile.
"You and her are my only reasons to live now."
I looked down at the delicate bundle in my arms once more. The tiny infant, wrapped in soft silken cloth, slept peacefully, oblivious to the world around her. Her presence, so small yet so significant, felt like the embodiment of something sacred—something that tethered me to a future I had never envisioned for myself.
A slow breath escaped my lips before I finally spoke the name I had chosen.
"Nivea."
The word felt right, almost as if it had existed long before I uttered it, waiting for this very moment to be spoken into reality.
"Nivea is a good name." Khione stood beside me, her icy blue eyes watching me with an unreadable expression. Then, she nodded, acknowledging my choice.
A rare tenderness swelled within me. Holding Nivea securely in one arm, I reached out with my free hand and gently caressed Khione's cheek. Her skin, cool as fresh snowfall, quivered beneath my fingertips.
It had been a long time since I had touched her like this—since she had felt my warmth. A shiver ran through her, not from cold, but from something deeper.She knew what was coming.
Khione closed her eyes, her long lashes fluttering ever so slightly.
Her lips, soft and slightly parted, invited me closer.
I leaned in, claiming them in a deep, slow kiss. A warmth spread between us, a stark contrast to the frost that often surrounded her. As my fingers continued to trace gentle strokes along her cheek, I deepened the kiss, pressing firmly against her lips, tasting her, savoring her.
She responded in kind, matching my hunger, her breath mingling with mine. The world outside of this moment ceased to exist.When we finally parted, her face was tinged with a faint shade of pink—a rare sight for the Goddess of Ice.
She averted her gaze, clearing her throat as if attempting to suppress the emotions stirring within her.
"I heard about your plan… from Aphrodite," she murmured, shifting the subject abruptly.
It was a feeble attempt to mask her shyness, but I allowed it. "Is it true?"A smirk played on my lips. I turned my head slightly, my gaze shifting toward the empty space behind me where no one else should have been."Amaterasu."
At my call, the air rippled. A brilliant golden light erupted, illuminating the space like a miniature sun had been ignited. Then, from within that radiant burst, a figure materialized—Amaterasu, the Goddess of the Sun.
She stepped forward gracefully, her regal presence undeniable. But what caught my interest most was the fleeting glimmer of surprise in her eyes."You noticed me?" she mused, sounding genuinely intrigued.
"My mastery over the Forbidden Seal has grown," I replied smoothly. "I could sense both you and Khione the moment you arrived."
At this, Amaterasu's eyes widened slightly before she allowed a small, knowing smile to curve her lips. "After everything I've witnessed from you during the Trojan War, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore."
Her gaze flickered downward, settling upon the child in my arms.
A mortal and a Goddess. A child born of two vastly different worlds.
She didn't say it aloud, but I could see the contemplation in her expression. This was not something that happened every day—even among deities, such a union was unheard of. But if there was one thing Amaterasu had come to understand, it was that I was no ordinary mortal.I shifted my attention slightly, my sharp eyes locking onto the other presence standing beside her.
Kaguya.Her black hair shimmered under the glow of Amaterasu's radiance, her ethereal beauty as breathtaking as ever. I studied her carefully, my lips pressing into a thin line. Bringing her here… I wasn't entirely sure if it was the right decision. Not because I doubted her loyalty—after all, I had her Goddess bounded to me but because it could become dangerous.
As if reading my mind, Amaterasu spoke. "Don't worry. She's only here as a precaution. If things go awry, she'll ensure you're taken away safely."I chuckled as I took a slow, deliberate step forward."I won't run away, Amaterasu."
"There won't be any need for that," I said, my voice smooth yet laced with an underlying edge of finality. My eyes darkened, a shadow flickering across my gaze. "Everything will happen exactly as I planned."
This moment had been set into motion two years ago. Back then, I had nothing—no power, no allies, and certainly no chance of standing against a God. I had been nothing more than a mortal, staring up at an insurmountable wall, knowing that one day I would have to cross it.
But today… things were different.
I still wasn't strong enough to fight a God alone. That much was undeniable. But now, I wasn't alone.
I had three Goddesses bound to my will—each one powerful, each one willing to obey. They would do anything I asked of them.
I stepped toward Kaguya, shifting Nivea in my arms before carefully extending her toward her.
Kaguya hesitated for only a moment before accepting the child, her white eyes widening in mild surprise.
"Your only job," I said, my voice calm yet firm, "is to stay here and protect her. Do you understand?"
She looked at me, then at the infant in her arms. A quiet moment passed before she finally nodded.
"Yes… I understand."
A smirk tugged at my lips. I leaned in slightly, just enough for my words to carry only to her. "Do it well," I murmured, "and maybe I'll give you a baby too."
Kaguya's reaction was immediate. Her sharp glare burned into me, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her true feelings. She looked away, her grip tightening slightly around Nivea as if to focus her attention elsewhere.
Satisfied, I turned around.
Aphrodite. Khione. Amaterasu.
The three Goddesses stood in a loose formation around me, their divine presence enough to shake the very air. They had followed me this far, each for their own reasons, yet in the end, they all belonged to me now.
I fixed my gaze on Aphrodite.
"If you're here," I mused, "then that means the bait worked."
Aphrodite smiled, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. "Oh, it worked beautifully," she purred. "Hermes isn't trustworthy when it comes to alliances, but when it comes to stirring chaos over something he's never witnessed before? Well, that's another story entirely. He tricked Hera. She's coming to deal with you."
"She wouldn't come alone I suppose?"
Aphrodite's smile widened. "You're right. She won't. Poseidon will be there too. He knows about your connection to Khione after all. He would want to know everything you know about Khione."
At that, my amusement faded, replaced by something colder.
"Perfect."
My gaze flickered toward Khione, who stood silently beside me. A storm of emotions simmered beneath my exterior, but only one thing truly mattered now.
It was finally time.
Time to kill Poseidon—the arrogant God who once dared to claim Khione as his.
And more importantly…
I smirked.
Time to enslave that insufferable, hot-tempered Goddess who had tried to kill me time and time again throughout the Trojan War.
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