His Majesty Hades turned his attention to the instigator, Catia.
However, our moon goddess realized she had caused a catastrophe the moment Metis's hair exploded!
She tiptoed like a frightened rabbit, trying to move towards the corridor door without making a sound, wishing she could instantly transform into a shadow and slip away.
Caught by her father's gaze, full of 'fatherly love', Catia instantly felt the stress, froze in place, tearful and sad, trying to make amends, and stammered an explanation:
"Mother, Mother Goddess! Don't misunderstand! Actually, the goddesses in the bath... are very, very few!"
She counted on her fingers, trying to prove that the scene wasn't 'impressive'. "It's just... Freyja, Eros, Thalia, Artemis, Aunt Hestia, Aunt Demeter, Aunt Styx... And... um... the three goddesses of vengeance, the Erinyes..."
Every time Catia named a name, Metis pressed her fingertips a little harder on Hades's waist, and the smile on her face grew 'brighter'.
Catia's voice grew softer and softer, and in the end it was almost inaudible, and even she herself didn't believe the nonsense about 'very few goddesses'.
This list included almost all the high-ranking and... powerful goddesses with various characteristics in the pantheon!
Except for Athena, Hecate, and Catia herself, who were busy with official duties, almost every goddess who could be named was in that bath!
"Haha..." Catia dry-laughed a few times, looked at the lightning and thunderous atmosphere between her parents, and completely stopped struggling.
She clasped her hands together, threw a "Father God, take care!" look at Hades, and then, with a 'whoosh', transformed into a silver light and ran away without looking back, her speed comparable to Hermes's.
Only Hades was left alone to face the smiling 'nuclear-grade good wife' beside him.
His Majesty the King of Hades was afraid that today he would not be able to avoid a 'catastrophe'.
At the same time, on the vast plains, the setting sun cast long shadows over the neat phalanx.
In a secluded stone pavilion, far from the hustle of the soldiers' drills, Alexander the Conqueror sat opposite the prophet Prometheus.
On the stone table lay maps of the known world and some unknown celestial phenomena.
"...Therefore, the final forging of the 'key' requires the fall of kings as the fuse." Alexander's fingertips pointed to the far east on the map, his voice low and firm, as if stating an established fact.
Prometheus nodded slightly, his weathered face wearing an expression that foresaw all suffering and hope.
"As I have already instructed you..." He paused and cast a meaningful glance at Alexander.
"You are lucky, young king. I am not the only one paying attention to your great undertaking. Eyes of wisdom are also betting on it."
Alexander's eyes sharpened: "You mean... the goddess Metis? No, it should be Athena."
Prometheus did not directly admit it, but picked up a ceramic cup and took a sip of water; the standard posture was already obvious.
"She is happy to see a more ideal future. After all, the current Olympus has long been corrupted by endless desires and pleasures."
His words were filled with frank criticism of the God-King's rule.
At this moment, two imposing generals approached.
They were Alexander's right-hand men—Hercules and Jason.
Hercules frowned, and his majestic body seemed shrouded in a mist.
He spoke directly, his voice loud but worried: "Your Majesty, we have just inspected the newly formed legion. The soldiers' morale is high, but... are we really going to go through with this? Raising the banner of rebellion against Olympus?"
He took a deep breath.
"I know all about Zeus's tyranny and injustice, and I hate him just as much! But once war begins, it will affect the entire world! Countless mortals will be destroyed by the wrath of the gods! Will the end of the war we seek lead to a war between man and god?"
Hercules's ideal always included protecting ordinary lives; he longed to break the gods' game with fate, but did not want to see the world turn into scorched earth.
Jason's expression on the side was even more complex.
Once a hero in pursuit of the Golden Fleece, he had displayed extraordinary courage, but had also shown cowardice and betrayal at critical moments.
Today, he assisted Alexander not only because he saw hope for an end to chaotic times, but also because his deep desire for power and recognition had not faded.
He coveted the supreme throne, yet seemed content with the position of a minister, second only to one person and above ten thousand others.
This contradiction often made him struggle with himself.
"Hercules is not being unreasonable, Your Majesty," Jason spoke, his voice not as firm as Hercules's.
"We learned from Mr. Chiron to pacify war and create peace. Now the earth has just been united in our hands..."
He paused, glanced at Alexander's unwavering face, and subtly changed his tone.
"But... if the gods still regard us as lambs to be slaughtered at will, and the shackles of fate are never lifted, then short-lived peace is nothing more than a false illusion. It's just... are we truly willing to bear the consequences of becoming enemies of the entire world?"
In his words, there was both fear of the future and a hint of the possibility of seizing the opportunity to gain even more power.
Alexander looked at his two most powerful partners and knew their anxieties and contradictions.
He stood up, walked to the edge of the pavilion, and looked at the bloody setting sun in the distance and his legion in the sunset, capable of destroying any human kingdom.
"Hercules, Jason," his voice was calm, but with undeniable power.
"What we have finished was merely a war between men. But when will the 'war' hanging over the heads of all living beings cease, when the gods bring calamities and toy with fate?"
He turned around, his eyes burning with almost mad ambition and resolve.
"True peace comes from holding fate in your own hands! If the gods are the sole and greatest destroyers of this order, then..."
—he slowly raised his hand and pointed at Mount Olympus, which seemed both close and far away.
"Overthrowing this old throne is the final and only peace we bring to this world!"
His words echoed in the twilight, with a chilling undertone.
Hercules was silent, his fists clenched, and his heart pounded in a fierce struggle.
A glint flashed in Jason's eyes, and he finally lowered his head, his thoughts unreadable.
Prometheus quietly observed all of this.
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