Vanaheimr, in Athena's temporary workshop.
The air was filled with the strange smell of various magical materials.
Athena stood before a miniature model of a Vanir 'Rainbow Bridge' node, her fingertips flowing with silver divine power, adjusting the fine structure of the circuit.
The door to the workshop was roughly pushed open, and Ares's tall figure filled the doorway, the expression of contempt he had just received from Týr still on his face.
"Hey, Athena! You asked me to go see that Týr twice, and I did!"
Ares walked in with a grin, sat down on a stone workbench that looked quite sturdy, making the tools on it clatter.
"That guy is really a coward! He doesn't even dare to draw his sword! So boring!"
Athena did not turn around immediately; she was still focused on adjusting the model, and only when a key node was stabilized did she slowly stop and turn.
Her gray-blue eyes fell upon Ares, and her face, usually calm and even somewhat aloof, rarely showed an expression of approval at this moment.
"Well done, Ares," Athena's voice was calm, but the approval was clearly noticeable.
"Your 'acting skills' are better than I imagined."
"Acting?" Ares was stunned, his rough face full of bewilderment, and he scratched his fiery red short hair vigorously, even more puzzled.
"What acting? Didn't you just ask me to go around his place and see how he reacts? I didn't do anything; I just saw he was unhappy and wanted to beat him up!"
He completely didn't understand what Athena meant.
In his simple mind, Athena just asked him to 'see' Týr, and he happened to express his displeasure at this 'coward', and that was it.
What acting skills? Ares's fights were always real knife and real gun; what was there to pretend about?
Athena looked at his genuine confusion, and a clear smile flickered in her eyes.
Of course, she knew Ares wasn't acting, and his unpretentious contempt and provocation were exactly the 'truth' she needed.
She wanted Ares to use his instinct to constantly provoke Týr, so that the god of justice would accumulate humiliation and pressure in a foreign land.
A cornered warrior, especially one renowned for his righteousness and oath, would either completely collapse or... seek change and new allies.
Ares didn't need to know this.
He just needed to be himself—the belligerent, straightforward, irritating, and easily provoked god of war—to be the perfect 'actor'.
"Nothing," Athena didn't explain, just slightly changed the subject.
"You can 'go and see' Týr more often in the future. After all, Vanaheimr advocates nature and peace, so gods from 'warlike' Ásgarðr like him need more 'communication' to blend in, right?"
Although Ares didn't fully understand, he grasped the meaning of 'go and see more' and 'communicate'—it meant he could still go and 'trouble' Týr in the future?
That suited him!
At this moment, the stone workbench under Ares's buttocks, which had initially seemed quite sturdy, finally couldn't withstand the impact of his careless sitting and the weight of his own armor.
A deafening 'crack' sounded, followed by a teeth-shattering collapse!
Stone fragments flew everywhere, and all kinds of exquisite tools, unfinished rune carvings, and several valuable magical materials that Athena had just 'borrowed' from Hecate were scattered all over, and some were even broken right there.
Athena looked at this scene and took a deep breath, the muscles on her eternally calm face twitching almost imperceptibly.
She closed her eyes and suppressed the urge to throw this stupid brother out of the workshop.
These materials, especially those 'borrowed' from Hecate, were used so sparingly!
However, instead of apologizing, Ares, the one who caused the trouble, nimbly jumped aside at the moment of collapse, then looked at the mess and cursed:
"Ugh! What a piece of junk!" He kicked the gravel with his foot and complained discontentedly:
"Athena! The quality of the stuff in your workshop is really too poor, you know?! I can't even sit still! Lucky I didn't fall, or I'd have to pay you back!"
He didn't realize at all that it was his problem, but confidently blamed the workbench for not being strong, as if his sitting on it was doing the workbench a great honor.
Athena slowly opened her eyes and looked at Ares's face with its 'the world is to blame' expression, and felt the veins on her temples throbbing.
She took a deep breath and told herself to calm down, that reasoning with a brother who only had muscles and fights in his head was a waste of time.
She pointed to the workshop door, her voice like a cold Siberian wind, and said word by word:
"Ares."
"Now, immediately, get out of my sight."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't mind personally 'testing' your skull, war god, to see which is harder, your head or these stones."
Her tone was calm, but the cold and obvious threat made even someone as thick-skinned as Ares instinctively shrink his neck.
He might not be afraid of fighting, but he vaguely understood that if he really pissed off this sister, the end might be terrible, especially since she looked really upset right now.
"Get out... I'm getting out," Ares muttered, still complaining discontentedly as he left.
"...What, blaming others for not being strong enough... Next time give me an iron workbench, almost the same..."
Seeing him finally disappear out the door, Athena weakly rubbed her brow.
She looked at the mess all over the floor, especially the broken precious materials, and was so upset she nearly bled.
"This... idiot!" She scolded quietly, finally crouched down resignedly, and began to carefully clean up the mess, mentally making a solid note against Ares.
It seemed that the burden of him 'harassing' Týr should be increased a little, or else he would always have the energy to cause her problems!
Ares, having left the workshop, quickly put this unpleasant incident behind him and began wandering around Vanaheimr with great interest, looking for the next person to 'communicate' with, or... go and 'see' that Ásgarðr 'coward' Týr again.
After all, Athena seemed to support him in this? Although he didn't quite understand why.
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