The Valley of Nysa no longer held even the chirping of insects. Human and beast alike had long since ceased to set foot there. The bards no longer sang the tales of heroes who had slain the monsters of Nysa.
The dozens of caves scattered near the valley reeked of rotting flesh, their entrances blood-stained.
Before them stood altars made of animal bones, stacked in layers, and atop the highest altar lay a blood-soaked pig offered as sacrifice, maggots spewing from its eyes and mouth.
“So they’ve really made a nest, huh?”
Aris, who had come down the slope, pinched his nose and wrinkled his face at the stench. Squelching as he walked, he scraped the reeds stuck to his soles against the ground. Lifting his leg to check his sandal, he turned his head with a retch.
“Ugh, the smell… What is this! It’s orchid root, isn’t it?”
Orchid root, when ingested, made one’s disposition violent and stoked one’s lust. The already-destructive Khtons shunned and abhorred it, along with Himeros.
“Why did we even bother coming here? Nyx and the Seart pack seem to be over that mountain ridge.”
Kalian, who had been riding the wind, suddenly sensed something and dove toward the ground. Aris, hurrying after him, tilted his head and followed.
They entered deep into the valley and surveyed its center.
“Grrr….”
Then a shadow hid among the bushes and began to growl. Pressed flat against the earth like a lizard, its eyes were filled with killing intent.
“Screech!”
The shadow leaped up, its long hair whipping about. Its clothes were ripped to tatters, with only shoulder straps remaining, barely recognizable. Its near-naked lower body had thighs developed like a frog’s, and its skin had turned bluish and hardened into a keratinized texture.
Dagger-like claws swung toward Kalian’s face.
Shhk.
There was no need to give an order. The wind formed a blade on its own, splitting the air in a semicircle. A gale rose like a giant sickle reaping a field.
The woman who had rushed at him with her mouth gaping wide was severed at the neck, rolling powerlessly to the ground.
Her upper body still retained a somewhat human form, but her lower body was similar to a reptile’s. Her belly was swollen and bulging like a tadpole about to burst.
Kalian looked down at the corpse with an expressionless gaze, then moved on.
As he passed the bushes where the monster woman had been hiding, a stagnant swamp came into view. Decaying corpses floated in thick heaps within the fly-swarming water, bobbing on the surface.
Traces of thieves and heroes who’d come to slay the valley’s monsters only to meet horrible ends.
“Wow, can people really change like this?”
Aris walked over pinching his nose, then peered at the beheaded woman’s corpse. Gripping a rusty sword he’d picked up from somewhere, he split the woman’s belly in half.
Squelching things came pouring out of the split stomach. Aris, who’d been prodding with a branch, retched and vomited. Among the consumed contents were human bones and entrails not yet digested.
“These things… they’re eating human flesh?”
Shuddering, Aris suddenly looked up. Even in the darkness, a cliff jutted out prominently like a crow’s beak.
“What, so the reason they told us to offer mountain sacrifices was to feed these things?”
The radical Khtons following Nyx craved human blood, but they had no taste for eating flesh. The Khtons fundamentally disliked unnecessary acts.
If tormenting others brought them no pleasure, it was merely a bothersome act. For that reason, theirs was a race that found it difficult to become truly malicious.
They would never scheme under grand pretexts like the implementation of justice, world peace, or preservation of their race. In any case, they possessed an innate loathing for group action.
Yet such beings were gathered here in Nysa in great numbers. That meant an irresistible reward was being offered.
Human silhouettes moved swiftly in the darkness. Though they crawled about on all fours with their bodies low to the ground, their speed was enough to put birds of prey to shame.
“Two, three, five… seven? Why so many?”
Aris raised his brows in surprise. Having sensed their companion’s death, they scattered in all directions, gripped by collective fear.
“What are we going to do, Kalian?”
Most humans who drank Khton blood initially gained Khton-like appearances and superior physical abilities, but after a certain period, they would either lose their lives to acute aging that struck like a backlash, or lose their humanity first and meet destruction in a fiery pit. Among them, those who’d absorbed too much Khton blood sometimes had their very appearance transform, becoming monsters.4)
Of course, such things had always happened in the past. Khtons who secretly meddled with humans behind the Ojwa’s back had existed throughout every era, and among humans, ghost stories of Medusa5) and Scylla6) had circulated widely enough.
“It’ll take some time to clean them all up. For now, let’s leave them and…”
“We eliminate them.”
“Right now?”
Aris’s face said, is that really necessary? Since when do you care about this kind of thing? Instead of answering, Kalian stared at his feet, and Aris, looking at the shaded ground, finally caught on.
“No way… the thing down there right now? The black-haired princess?”
No matter how focused he was on the black-haired princess, sensing something underground like this? This isn’t even Hades?
Aris opened his clenched right fist with a look of utter annoyance.
“Now, Hestia… it’s time to show me what you’ve got.”
At his call, a deep crimson flame blazed up as if bursting into laughter.
Ψ
Excluding time spent sleeping, Mnemosyne had stuck right by Asteril’s side for two whole days.
She had guided Asteril’s party through every corner of the hideout where all kinds of secrets slumbered, and proudly displayed and listed the mysterious items Phira had left behind.
A human-skin mask that changed one’s face to match its shape, a jar that filled itself to the brim once something was placed inside, a brazier whose fire never went out, a harp that played on its own…
After pouring wine into Phira’s jar and opening the lid the next day, Asteril exclaimed with wide, amazed eyes.
“It’s so fascinating and fun! It really fills up all the way? You didn’t secretly have someone fill it up for me, did you?”
“Of course not.”
She was also able to watch the process of mummies being made. Ischys, who’d been observing together, covered his mouth and crawled out on hands and knees.
Mnemosyne’s workshop, located in the deepest part of the hideout, was the oldest room among dozens of mummy workshops. The chilly interior of the room was warmed by a bronze brazier blazing with red fire.
In a corner of the rock-walled room, wooden statues of the maiden goddess were neatly stacked on planks, and terracotta tiles depicting episodes from Phira’s life were lined up in rows on shelves.
“Let me show you this way, Lady Asteril.”
A small room was attached to the shaded inner area. It seemed to be a storage warehouse for materials.
“Though these timber stocks are several decades old, they are still in very good condition. We have a solution made by mixing olive oil with an extract ground from the sap of a tree Lady Phira personally cultivated, along with other herbs. When applied to the wood’s surface like this, it prevents decay and preserves it well even after a long time.”
“If it’s sap from a tree Lady Phira personally cultivated… could it be Asphodel?”
“You know of it, Lady Asteril?”
“Then does Lady Mnemosyne also…?”
“Lady Asteril, have you ever seen Asphodel with your own eyes? I have never seen it, so I have always been curious. What kind of tree is this sacred tree that Lady Phira cherished so dearly?”
“You’ve never seen it?”
Her rising expectations leaked away like air from a puncture. Mnemosyne, watching her, turned and spoke.
“I am referring to the story you told me the day before yesterday. The tale of Pandora and Gaia. You spoke of four rooms, four legacies…”
The old shrine of Cocytus guarded by the West Wind, the old shrine of Lethe guarded by the North Wind. Two places remained now.
“This way, please.”
Asteril looked around with wide eyes. To think such a vast space existed inside the ant-warren-like cave…
“This is the sanctuary that once worshipped the ancient god Cronus. I believe it was likely built around the same time and in a similar manner as the old shrine said to be in Cocytus.”
Come to think of it, all the old shrines they had discovered so far existed underground.
Earth below and caves both signify the womb of the goddess. They are places where life is conceived and new breath is born.
The semicircular cave floor was made of circular altars. A circle is the symbol of an ancient altar. It is a vessel and an entrance. In the center of the circular altar stood a massive three-legged brazier.
Fire symbolized the blood-red blood of the earth goddess. This is a place that worships the blood of the goddess. It is a place that seeks birth and growth, change and rebirth.
“Creating clay dolls required various conditions and delicate processes. As with making mummies, maintaining proper temperature and humidity was a given, and the wooden frames serving as the skeleton had to undergo special preparation. But the most important thing was properly firing the clay dough.”
Mnemosyne’s gaze turned to the large three-legged brazier. Already having served its role long ago, the rusted brazier had its bellows shut.
“What burned inside that brazier was the sacred flame Hestia, which Lady Phira had given to us. But due to my carelessness, it was extinguished. Claiming I would search for Lady Phira, I left my post, and thieves broke in… My subordinates brawled among themselves, and the brazier was overturned.”
Asteril stared at the moonlight slicing like a blade through the cracks in the rocks covering the ceiling.
She could feel the ancient energy.
A power more pronounced and stronger than the other two temples. The earth, the surrounding rock walls, and even the ceiling trembled with faint vibrations…
Rustle.
Startled, she stared at the dirt that had fallen on the top of her foot. The ground was shaking. What was this? An earthquake? The continuous tremors spread like waves.
Boom!
Surprised, Asteril stepped back. It hadn’t been an illusion. Circe wrapped her arms around Mnemosyne and quickly evacuated to one side.
Crash!
With a thunderous roar, the collapsed ceiling kicked up dense dust. Everyone crouched low in surprise, covering their heads with their arms.
“Screech!”
A bizarre scream echoed from among the buried pile of stones. Mnemosyne pushed aside the acrid dust with her hand and cried out in a hoarse voice.
“It’s a Maenad! Everyone evacuate, it’s a cursed Maenad!”
The arm that burst through the debris had abnormally developed upper-arm muscles. The skin was so pale that veins showed bluish, and the nails were grotesquely long.
The hands flailing as they rose from the ground groped about before finally finding and throwing off the stone pressing on their owner’s head. Between the clattering stones, the ashen face of an enraged woman appeared, baring her teeth.
“What… is that?”
The woman, who’d pulled out her shoulders and arms, grunted and struggled to extract her lower body from the pile of stones. She twisted her body this way and that with both hands on the ground, then shrieked and threw a fit. Her bloodshot red eyes had lost all reason.
“Hestia!”
When Aris, who’d leaped down from the collapsed ceiling, shouted, a flame erupted into the air with a whoosh.
Aris landed atop the pile of dirt and kicked the struggling woman square in the head.
The woman took the blow right on the jaw and cricked her neck. She seemed to have lost consciousness.
When Aris sent a look, the flame floating in the air flared up and flew into the woman’s head.
“Kyaah!”
The monster woman, startled by the flames on her head, screamed and thrashed in agony. But her shriek was cut short. Her face, melted in an instant, left behind nothing but patchy chunks of blackened, necrotic flesh.
“That makes seven…”
Is it all done? Aris wiped the blood spatter from his face with the back of his hand and looked around.
“Black-haired princess, you alright?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
Though he seemed to be the one who’d smashed the ceiling, she decided not to press the matter since they’d survived.
“But what brings you here, Sir Aris?”
“It’s complicated if I explain… Hestia? Hey, where are you going! Hestia!”
As Aris reached into the air in panic, the gazes of Asteril and all the Hecate clan followed his fingertips.
The flame Hestia, which had disposed of the Maenad, floated away somewhere.
Aris, who’d been about to grab Hestia, stopped in his tracks. He wanted to see where it was going, ignoring even its master’s command.
“Hestia… you say?”
Mnemosyne, who’d been rising with Circe’s support, widened her eyes.
The three-legged brazier that had stood upon the circular altar had toppled from the shock just now. The bellows, the tool used to stoke the brazier, were nowhere to be seen, and the ashes inside had scattered, mixed with dirt and sand.
Hestia hovered over the fallen brazier like a red flower bud.
Mnemosyne walked quickly, tapping the ground with her staff.
“Hestia….”
She couldn’t believe it. The altar flame she’d last seen decades ago, Lady Phira’s heart, was blazing before her eyes. In a choked voice, she shed tears. “Lady Phira!”
Watching that scene, Asteril let out an “Ah!” of realization.
—What is it?
The North Wind glanced over and asked.
“It was Lady Mnemosyne.”
—What about her?
“The guardian of this place. The gatekeeper who protected the legacy sleeping within the third ancient shrine was Lady Mnemosyne.”
The North Wind glanced at Mnemosyne and huffed.
—That old hag is the gatekeeper? Getting attacked by strangers she didn’t even know, losing Hestia in a flash, and shamelessly staying alive? She should’ve given her life and still fallen short.
“Says Notos, who also failed to guard the Cup of Oblivion.”
—That’s not it. Strictly speaking, I passed it on to the next successor. Princess of the southern kingdom, you said you’re the daughter of Lady Gaia? Then you too are essentially the master of the Cup of Oblivion.
“But back then, I didn’t know I was Lady Gaia’s daughter.”
—So what, does that make you so great? The amazing foresight of you, the spirit, you, the wind, you, the breath…
“Kalian?”
—What? Where?
Seeing the North Wind look around in alarm, Asteril made a pitiful expression. The abashed North Wind let out an ahem.
—Princess of the southern kingdom, peddling your lord’s name is a very immoral act.
“Is that so? I just wanted to see the amazing foresight of you, the spirit, you, the wind, you, the breath.”
To that gushing list of praises, she really wanted to add “and your fleeing legs,” but…
“Lady Asteril.”
Mnemosyne stood up with reddened eyes and turned this way.
“Yes?”
Over Mnemosyne’s shoulder, the deep crimson flame, Hestia, could still be seen floating in the air.
Aris’s dissatisfied face as he crouched down, staring dumbfounded at the flame that had ignored its master’s command and flown here.
“Now all conditions are perfect.”
“Conditions?”
“Do you know the most crucial element in making Lady Phira’s clay dolls? Other things might be replaceable, but this is an absolutely indispensable element.”
From the atmosphere, Asteril felt she could guess the answer without hearing it, but still asked, “What is it?”
“Hestia.”
Circe, who’d righted the fallen brazier, looked up at Hestia floating in the air with a mystical gaze. Leuce and Ischys, as well as the rest of the Hecate clan, gathered one by one and surrounded the brazier.
Aris made an awkward expression. Circe looked displeased.
“Who are you?”
“I am Hestia’s guardian.”
“The master of Hestia is Lady Phira.”
“Phira? Who’s that?”
“….”
“And I’m not Hestia’s master, I’m her guardian…”
“Mother, leave him be. If you pick a fight with him for no reason, it’ll be big trouble. He’s the exalted one who fell for the King of Hades all on his own, conceived by a river, and attacked Lady Asteril. They say his temper is absolutely insane.”
What? Insane? Wow… these days, every other day brings something truly unbelievable. What do these punks take a Khton for? Maybe I should just kill them all right now.
—Aris.
A resonant voice rang through the air, oppressing the atmosphere. Aris quickly lowered the hand he’d raised in anger. The noisy atmosphere instantly quieted.
“Kalian!”
He made a wronged expression toward Kalian, who’d ridden the wind down.
—Well done.
At the unexpected praise, Aris’s face went blank. It was the gentlest tone he’d ever heard from Kalian in his life.
“Are you well?”
“Of course.”
Kalian passed by Aris and approached Asteril from behind, embracing her.
Though there was no sensation, she seemed to feel his breath. A cool breath touched her nape and then withdrew.
Asteril closed her eyes and laughed as if tickled.
“Sir Aris is standing there blankly.”
Kalian raised his head and looked at Aris, who was staring vacantly into the air.
“Like a child receiving praise from his father for the first time.”
Asteril smiled as if she found it cute.
Hearing that laughter, Aris snapped his head this way. His annoyed face twisted into something resembling a grimace.
“Hey, black-haired princess! You sure look lively now that Kalian’s here? I’m the one who saved you this time.”
“Indeed. Until recently, you were trying to kill me, so I’m not sure how to take this…”
“There’s nothing to take. Just be grateful. Now, prostrate yourself at my feet and raise both hands in worship.”
“….”
“You won’t?”
“Even if gold and jewels were piled at Sir Aris’s feet, I don’t think I would kneel.”
“Why? Why go so far to refuse?”
“Indeed. Sir Aris always drives me to make such resolutions. In that regard, you are quite an impressive person.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment?”
“The North Wind can tell whether such things are compliments or not too.”
She’d been about to say “even the North Wind,” but toned it down. Unfortunately, Aris looked unbothered. Why were Khtons’ sense of humor and satire inferior even to creatures with fins? A marvelous mistake wrought by the transcendent.
“What’s Notos doing here?”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“What? Hey, just what kind of treatment do you think…”
Kalian’s lips slowly hardened as he watched the two bickering. His narrowly lowered gaze clouded.
Were those two always that close?
Though Asteril responded with a mocking tone, her eyes showed she was secretly enjoying it. And Aris’s emotional ups and downs at her every reply spoke for themselves.
“This is absurd. Hey, go drink some Lethe water and forget me, will you? I’ll give you my blood right now, here! Come on, here!”
“Sir Aris could drink it himself.”
“Why would I go through that trouble?”
“If you forget me, wouldn’t that be nice for you too?”
“No? It’s not nice?”
“….”
“Well, it might be nice, but…”
As Asteril clicked her tongue and turned away, Aris’s cheeks flushed.
It was humiliating. She openly slighted him every time, so why did he always feel like he was groveling pathetically? Why?
Asteril noticed Kalian looking displeased and tilted her head.
“But where did you go? Why did you arrive later than Sir Aris?”
When Kalian raised his hand, the wind dropped the corpse of the monster woman onto the ground with a thud.
Thud!
Surprised by the dull noise, people’s eyes widened. Leuce, who’d linked arms with Ischys, squealed and recoiled.
“Is… is it a half-beast?”
“Upper body human, lower body… what do you call those, a satyr…”
Within the murmuring voices, someone explained as if they knew.
“A satyr is a monster with goat legs. This one is… some kind of reptile? Like a crocodile or lizard…”
Leuce, standing with a creeped-out expression, discovered something and leaned slightly forward.
“What’s that? A bracelet?”
When Leuce tapped Ischys’s side, he flinched and looked at her.
You want me to take it? That?
Leuce nodded at him repeatedly and then poked his arm again as if urging him.
Ischys clamped his mouth shut tight like a clam, feeling like he might vomit, and stretched his arm out while pulling his body back as far as possible.
Ugh, the smell…
He grabbed the corpse’s wrist with astounding speed, widened the gap of the tightened bracelet, and pulled it out.
“A family crest is engraved on the bracelet. This woman’s a noble.”
Leuce, who’d snatched the bracelet at some point, made an uneasy expression.
“But doesn’t this crest look familiar?”
Leuce, who’d been staring at the bracelet up close, looked up at Ischys with a bloodless face.
“Ischys, this person…”
“What is it?”
“I think this is Lady Megara.”
The crest engraved on the bracelet worn by the dead woman was none other than that of the Daduchos family.
Ψ
The executives of the Hecate clan, including Circe, put their heads together in deep worry.
How should they inform the client, the Daduchos regional governor, of this situation? Or how could they wrap this up cleanly without repercussions?
“Let’s hand over the fake corpse we prepared.”
“It would be best to tell the regional governor that we failed to recover Lady Megara’s body intact.”
“But then the reward will differ greatly.”
A brief silence fell. Circe, the clan chief, and the members of Hecate were sensitive to money matters.
If funds were short, supplies decreased, and ultimately it was their parents and children who suffered.
“Then what should we do?”
“Just hand her over. They’ll think she was cursed somewhere.”
“W-wait…”
Asteril hesitated and interjected. She had already heard Megara’s tragic circumstances from Leuce.
“If you hand over a corpse in such a state, Lady Megara will be humiliated even in death.”
“However…”
“I will cover the difference in payment. So please hand Lady Megara’s body over to me.”
Asteril removed the obsidian ornamental headband from her forehead.
“Will this be enough?”
Circe looked at Mnemosyne with a troubled expression. She smiled awkwardly.
“I understand Lady Asteril’s will, but we cannot accept that headband.”
“Why not?”
“We of Hecate have perfectly completed every commission. We take pride in that. The righteousness, morality, legality, or ethics of a request are not important.”
“….”
“But that was before we met Lady Asteril. If Lady Asteril is giving an order now as the supreme leader of our Hecate, we shall all gladly obey.”
As Mnemosyne bowed her head, Circe also prostrated herself on the ground. Leuce pulled Ischys down to kneel quickly.
Seeing the high priestess’s actions, the rest of the Hecate clan set down their weapons and bowed as well.
Asteril was simply at a loss for words, bewildered. That she was the leader of Hecate… what kind of absurd story was this?
Mnemosyne, raising her head, smiled as if she’d anticipated her confusion.
“Lady Asteril, do you know the etymology of the name Dionysus?”
“The supreme god of Nysa… no? I’ve heard it comes from Dios, meaning supreme god, combined with Nysa, the place name.”
“That is also correct, but there is another interpretation. Dio meaning twice, and nisos meaning to be born, combining to form Dionysus, meaning one born twice. I believe this is the original etymology. Another expression for the god of resurrection.”
It was a matter worth pondering how that etymology had become corrupted to mean the supreme god of Nysa. Just as it remained questionable why Nyx, who had suddenly seized Nysa, had taken the snake as her totem, and from whom she had stolen it.
“Look at those children.”
Mnemosyne suddenly pointed with her hand at the twin black panthers tumbling and playing atop a mound of dirt.
“Rhea and Leto… those children are also dolls made by Lady Phira. If they were ordinary beasts, they could not have lived so long. Do you know how old those children are?”
“….”
“They are already over fifty.”
Asteril’s eyes widened. Come to think of it, the Demon King had once said something. That Rhea had been guarding the temple of Cocytus here since before Asteril was born.
“This land was originally the domain of Phira, the god of resurrection. Dionysus was likely a name given by those who witnessed the miracles performed by Gaia, the Earth Goddess, when she appeared in human form long ago. One born twice, one who returns again, one who presides over below and above the earth, one who rules the underworld and the surface world… Rhea and Leto are proof of that.”
At Mnemosyne’s order, her subordinates carried log-shaped timber from her workshop.
“The Kore whom our Hecate serves is ultimately the goddess of resurrection. Lady Asteril, please recreate that power. Please complete the vessel that holds life using the sacred flame, Hestia.”
“I would like to show you, but… I don’t know how to do it at all?”
“Then I shall teach you the method. You need only display your supernatural power, Lady Asteril. Handling Hestia is something only you can do. Once the doll is complete and Lord Calian awakens in a new body, our Hecate shall formally recognize you as the successor of Lady Phyra and revere you as our leader.”
Circe added with a sigh.
“The reason we took up work as embalmers was all because of my mother, the Elder. She firmly believed in Lady Phyra’s resurrection, so she acquired any knowledge related to the resurrection ritual she could find. Honestly, I still find it hard to believe that Lady Phyra made a clay doll. Still, I would like to see it. Whether such a thing is truly possible….”
Asteril gazed at the lumber stacked thickly beside the brazier and the carving tools.
“I understand… I’ll give it a try.”
A smile bloomed on Mnemosyne’s face. She turned and raised her hand to gather the members of Hecate. Circe also stood up to lend her hands.
Asteril fell into thought.
She had heard that Gaia mixed her own blood into the clay dough. She had entered the doll using her own blood as a medium. Then what about Calian? Did they need to mix blood as well? What should they use as a medium?
Then, as if he had read her thoughts, Calian’s voice was heard.
‘Prepare just one jar, you.’
‘A jar?’
‘Something capable of holding my breath.’
Breath? He was watching her in a relaxed posture. To human eyes, it was the gaze of an infinitely powerful supreme being.
“Come now, let us go, Lady Asteril.”
“Wait a moment.”
“Why is that?”
“If we succeed in making Calian’s new body, just as Lady Mnemosyne said… please grant my request as well.”
Asteril looked at Leuke, who stood behind Circe. The gazes of the two princesses crossed.
“I wish to save Princess Tethys. I hope the people of the Hecate clan will also help.”
“Princess Tethys… do you mean the eldest daughter of King Tyndareus?”
“That’s right. The princess is imprisoned in the manor on the hill. She is to be sent as a sacrifice to the Valley of Death on this full moon.”
Mnemosyne cast a brief glance at Circe. Circe added a brief explanation.
“It seems Prince Perius arranged it so.”
“Ah, so that pathetic prince did that….”
“Mother, there are barely ten days left until the full moon. I fear time is too short.”
Mnemosyne, who had been counting the days on her fingers, chuckled.
“Is this not the first order Lady Asteril has given? We must do our utmost. Even if we must wager the pride of our Hecate.”
“Nevertheless….”
“Planning a rescue operation for Princess Tethys as well… we would lack time even if we stayed up for ten days and nights. We must hurry. You there! There are too many contaminants here, so move the lumber and carving tools to the next room.”
“Yes, Elder!”
Calian stared silently at Mnemosyne’s retreating figure as she hurried on with a limp. She was a self-serving old woman, but she certainly cherished Asteril. Enough to prioritize her over her own daughter, granddaughter, and clan.
He approached Asteril and bent at the waist.
“I shall return after the Ahre.”
“The Ahre?”
“There is work I must finish.”
Being imprisoned in Tartarus had become the optimal condition for proceeding with his Red Furnace. It allowed him to completely evade the eyes of his kin, including Nyx.
Calian blew his cold, transparent breath into a red terracotta jar. Asteril, receiving the jar, finally realized.
Every breath in the firmament was under his dominion. To him, air was an element like his own breath, like his own hands and feet. He had already known what to use as a medium.
Asteril sealed the jar by closing its lid, hugged it tightly to her chest, and said, “I will wait. Let us each complete our tasks safely and meet after the Ahre.”
It was time to devote themselves to their respective duties. At the next full moon, planned events and unexpected situations would intersect and unfold.
She could only pray that Eos, the goddess of dawn, would let her hair—painted with night—fall long and longer still.
Ψ
Circe first divided the personnel into two groups.
First, Asteril and Mnemosyne, who had to devote all their efforts to making the clay doll, joined with the dexterous members of Hecate to form one group.
The rest—Aris, Leuke, Iskis, and Circe—joined the clan’s men in a group to plan the rescue of Princess Tethys. This side also took on the repair work for the collapsed ceiling.
Aris was the most dissatisfied here.
“Why the hell am I mixed in here? The black-haired princess is in that room.”
“Just because Lady Asteril is in that room does not mean you must be in that room as well, does it?”
“Why not? The only reason I’m here is because of the black-haired princess.”
“Is it not because of Lord Calian?”
Leuke asked back with a surprised expression. Aris glared at her.
It was always those who couldn’t utter a peep to Calian who dared crawl all over him. Just what did they rely on to look down on him?
His position as the son of Pontus and Thalassa and the guardian of Hestia was on a different dimension from ordinary Ketons.
He hadn’t bothered telling those lowly wretches because they would faint if they knew…. Anyway, they were irritating.
“Lord Aris? If you are free, please lift those collapsed rocks up there. It seems our children cannot manage even if they rush at it in groups. Is it not something easily possible with one hand for you?”
“You ask me to do such trivial work? Me?”
Aris stood up with a face showing wounded pride, exploding in anger.
Just what do they take me for… something possible not with one hand but with one index finger. “Watch closely!” Aris said, narrowing his eyes into triangles, bulging his muscles and making the sinews of his arms stand out for the first time in a while.
Circe, who had been dealing with Aris’s complaints for the past few days, mechanically replied “Yes, yes!” and fixed her gaze on the table where the map was spread.
“Are you watching? Behold! This elegant figure lifting it with a single finger! Spinning a rock like this like a top is as easy as pie. Hey, human woman! I asked if you’re watching!”
Circe raised her head, replied “Yes, I see it well” with an annoyed face, and then buried her head again.
“The name Aris means destruction. No Keton can follow me in strength. Not even Lian would be a match for me.”
Aris shrugged his shoulders and instantly moved five large rocks.
The Hecate men clearing debris watched Aris throw the rocks around and quietly took the hint, setting down their shovels and ropes.
“Mother, is it truly alright to proceed with this plan?”
Leuke had always worn an anxious expression. It went without saying, but the most important roles in the rescue plan for Tethys belonged to Calian and Aris.
“It is Lady Asteril’s will.”
“King Hades cherishes Lady Asteril terribly, so there should be no problem with him, but the other side….”
“He also seems to cherish Lady Asteril terribly, so there is no need to worry.”
“What? You say that because you do not know, but Lord Aris tried to kill Lady Asteril in Hades. Several times.”
Circe’s eyebrows shot up. Her gaze narrowed as she cast a sidelong glance at Aris.
“Really?”
“Yes, fortunately he does not seem to have such intentions now, but we cannot let our guard down.”
“Your father Minos always wanted to kill me too.”
“….”
“Hatred is a lump of fire on the reverse side, flaring up from excessive attachment. Whether human or god, those who cannot control their emotions and run rampant are all the same.”
The kings of every nation were all madmen. The women trapped in their shadows were tormented by lightning-like madness and could not help but go mad together.
It was not only within the palace. Women of this era all lived difficult lives.
“I imagined your face countless times since I left you as a suckling babe. Then one day, I stopped thinking of it. Your grandmother told me. That I had no right to miss you. That your daughter would resent you to death. That is why I was so bewildered when I first saw you.”
Circe, who had been glancing sideways, pulled up a chair and sat. She hesitated, then carefully took Leuke’s hand. Her daughter’s hand was much warmer than she had imagined.
“You were a braver, more mature daughter than I. I am a mother, but a mother who did not know what being a mother meant….”
Leuke’s eyes reddened.
“You were young then too, Mother. I understand.”
Blood ties were a tremendous thing. They leaped over years in an instant. As if one had merely gone on a short journey.
Circe touched Leuke’s face with her hand and smiled faintly. Leuke smiled too. Finally, the daughter felt as though she had found her mother.
Ψ
Darkness covered the dusky sky.
It seemed Eos was showing an especially white back as she lay down today.
Small stars shone endlessly around the mysteriously spread Milky Way, as if white paintbrush flowers were densely decorating the goddess’s flowing ebony hair.
The thick clouds that had covered the moon for several days had cleared, and it was a night when the night rainbow spread brilliantly for the first time in a while.
Aris, who had fitted rocks into the collapsed ceiling and firmly secured them with ropes, was lying sprawled on the floor with one foot on his knee, lazing about.
The white curtain veiling the room where Asteril and Mnemosyne were working fluttered. The two had finally finished their work and revealed themselves. Everyone wore curious expressions.
It was the night of the Ahre.
The day when Chaos opens its covered eyes and calls all the black birds and black beasts it has released into its swamp-like, damp embrace.
On such days, new prophecies often emerged. Like a single firefly quietly rising in a forest of nothing but darkness.
Asteril, her body drenched in sweat, gazed silently at the ceiling above the altar. Hestia blazed brilliantly inside the bronze brazier, like the wings of the fire bird from Eastern mythology.
She had not been able to wash properly for the past few days. Her tightly braided and pinned-up hair had strands flowing down here and there, clinging to the back of her neck, and clay dough was stuck all over her body like stains. She looked as if she had rolled around in a mud puddle.
“My work is finished. From now on, this is the point where Lady Asteril’s ability is truly needed.”
In the workroom where the temperature had been lowered coolly, the north wind was gently blowing its breath upon the shaped dough, drying it. Once drying was complete, it would be placed in the kiln to begin baking.
Mnemosyne staggered with a pale complexion and ultimately received Circe’s support. Her hands, which had kneaded and carved throughout the Ahre, were covered in blisters.
“…Hestia.”
At Asteril’s voice, the bronze brazier flashed. As the ritual tools clanged and shook, the Hecate members erupted in “Ooh!” cheers.
The crimson flames blazed up hugely and floated softly into the air.
As if it had been waiting for her call, the flame moved instantly and flew right before Asteril’s nose.
Asteril reached out her hand to attempt communion. Hestia slithered onto her outstretched hand. Everyone watched with mouths agape. Aris in particular looked as if his soul had left his body.
“It seems the drying is done, so now I shall go bake it. Let us go, Hestia.”
At her words, Hestia responded by crackling and bursting sparks.
Asteril easily handled the blazing Hestia as if it were some trained messenger bird. Everyone stared blankly at their backs as they walked off harmoniously.
The cave filled its ceiling with rumbling sounds. Mnemosyne leaned against a rock with her staff and closed her eyes.
If her memory served her right, the baking process would happen in an instant. Omnipotence was not proportional to time and effort.
Fwoosh.
The heat of the flames Hestia emitted was tremendous enough to warm the entire cave. Everyone continued waiting, swept up in excitement and fear.
As Mnemosyne had expected, Asteril came out again immediately. She wiped the soot on her cheek with the back of her hand and smiled brightly.
“I didn’t need to do anything at all. I didn’t have to display any great ability or give orders. Hestia just seemed to tell me to stand there and watch, went into the kiln alone in a flash, and baked the clay doll to completion in the blink of an eye. Truly in an instant.”
“That is Lady Asteril’s ability.”
“Excuse me?”
“Had it been me or Circe, Hestia would not have behaved so obediently. It cooperated docilely because it was you, Lady Asteril. Hestia only acts that way toward those it has acknowledged.”
“Acknowledged?”
“It has acknowledged you as the successor of Lady Phyra. And Hestia’s eyes are more accurate than anyone’s.”
Mnemosyne wore a smile at the corners of her mouth and a pleased expression.
“Black-haired princess, did you by any chance… while doing that, have some kind of conversation with Hestia?”
Aris asked with an anxious expression. His anxiety-filled eyes seemed to beg her to say no.
Asteril quickly shook her head because he looked so pitiful.
“I didn’t have any conversation at all.”
“Really? Of course, Hestia isn’t one to open its heart so easily. It has considerable integrity.”
Aris immediately brightened, grinned, and said boastfully.
She wondered what that had to do with integrity, but seeing him console himself to that extent was pitiful, so Asteril forced a smile and nodded.
“Good. I think the one who gets Hestia to open its mouth first deserves to be called the true guardian. What do you all think?”
Everyone looked back and forth between Aris and Mnemosyne, unable to respond.
Unlike Aris, who stood proudly as if aware of a rival, Mnemosyne sighed with a tired look.
“I do not have many days left to live anyway… Before I die, there will be no occasion to converse with Hestia unless thorns sprout in both our mouths. So please continue being Hestia’s guardian or whatever it is you have been doing, Lord Aris.”
“What?”
“Lady Asteril, I must go in and get some rest now. Forgive me, but I shall take my leave first.”
“Please do. You have worked hard.”
Aris blankly stared at the back of Mnemosyne’s head as she passed by him.
Meanwhile, Asteril wiped her sweat-dampened forehead and rubbed her dried palms together. All the work was finished now. Only the final wait remained.
Could it be because she had sweated so much? She was a bit cold.
She looked up at the ceiling. The cool outside air was seeping through the rock crevices like sand sifting underground.
The Hecate members, who had been active only around the warm Pontus, were mostly physically weak against the cold.
People hurriedly gathered before the brazier, thawing their frozen feet and hands with expressions asking what was going on.
There are times when the breath of the north wind feels like snowflakes falling like salt, swirling in circles.
When she was learning geomancy, the Witch King had spoken thus.
“The gods… especially the goddesses, mostly possess the power to foretell the future and sense what is to come.”
If she truly was the daughter of Gaia, then could this feeling she sensed now be precisely such power?
Asteril quietly closed her eyes. Then a corridor lined endlessly with black marble pillars unfurled in her mind.
This was Lethe. The mysterious and distant palace of death, like the far side of the moon.
The moment pale feet stepped upon the floor paved with glossy obsidian, flames blazed up on both sides.
The cold from beneath the earth snaked up, coiling around her calves like serpents. The moonlight clinging to her heels offered sinister and wicked whispers, urging her anxious steps onward. Like a hound chasing prey.
As if at the entrance to the underworld, distant darkness greeted her with its long mouth wide open, she who wore a chiton dress.
‘Welcome, you.’
That night when even the breath in her lungs froze solid with tension, floating white and trembling above her lips.
‘Welcome to Hades.’
His figure, leaning askew on the black throne and looking down at her with empty eyes like the king of night and death, remained vividly in her mind to this day.
How could she describe the unknown pounding that the fear—cold enough to freeze her veins—had bestowed?
Strangely, it was similar to the feeling of falling in love. Like the scream of an excited heart sensing its fate twisting.
Now she knew. The pounding that made her veins tremble when he approached.
The swollen moonlight gradually filled roundly, and transformed power surged infinitely. As if something was about to begin, like that night.
“Calian…?”
No matter how small her voice, his faithful winds never missed it. Had he not hidden even her heated moans during their lovemaking within the water mist to secretly whisper them into his ear?
Long hair scattered like waves. Wind was rising inside the cave. A strong wind as if a blizzard were striking.
Could the north wind’s power be this strong? Moonlight connected like threads through the gaps in the rock-mended ceiling and seeped into the cave.
The sight of surging moonlight gathering in one place to form a human figure was a spectacle no matter how many times one saw it.
A spontaneous exclamation of awe escaped her weakening legs. The others were also letting out exclamations as if enchanted.
The miracles wrought by the supernatural were wondrous to behold no matter how often witnessed. All the more so if that sight took the form of such a beautiful man.
After the day and night of the Ahre passed, the most brilliant and perfect child wrought by Chaos had come to find its pretty possession, like a peach hidden in an ice lake.
Calian embraced her in a form like sparkling sand crumbling down. Everything had become perfect.
‘Anteros, you… were you waiting for me?’
Aris, watching the scene from a corner of the cave, narrowed his eyes.
Lian’s presence felt different from usual. An enormous momentum flowed from his body, to the point where even breathing felt burdensome.
The outline of his body, which had been flickering vaguely in gold, became clear. The surrounding atmosphere fogged over like gas spewing from a volcano. It was tremendous heat and energy, as if the sun god had appeared at night.
“You’re here? Then come this way.”
Calian, who had been about to share a sweet embrace and then a kiss, looked puzzled at Asteril’s back as she wordlessly took the lead, telling him to follow without even greeting him.
Aris, reading the room, followed as well. It was only natural, as he had been dying of curiosity about what had happened in that room over the past Ahre.
Calian spotted Melinoe watching silently from a corner and paused. She, who had always growled like a dog chasing a thief, stood back today with her hands behind her back in a relaxed attitude for some reason.
Melinoe, meeting his eyes, curved her lips as if telling him to go on in.
Calian quickly swept his surroundings with a sidelong glance. He saw the eyes of the humans who usually revered and feared him glittering like stream water reflecting the morning sun.
Their expressions were mixed with anticipation and curiosity, like spectators watching from behind a stonemason lifting a young god’s statue to be erected before a temple with ropes.
Suddenly, the shock he had received when he first formed a sense of self and began to perceive things came to mind.
It was the moment his eyes suddenly met his mother Ananke’s chilling gaze. That was the first and last time he felt fear. Yet now, he felt a discomfort similar to that time.
Calian entered the shaded room. He saw Asteril standing with a happy expression.
His steps stopped awkwardly, as if a wagon had hit a bump. In the center of the room lay a tall clay doll, lying straight and facing the ceiling.
Silence flowed for a moment.
“What do you think?”
Calian looked down at the clay doll and said nothing. His incomprehensible silence was broken by Aris failing to hold back a “pfft” from the corner of his mouth.
“Black-haired princess, did you do this on purpose?”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at Lian’s expression.”
Calian still had his eyes fixed on the clay doll with a face that seemed unsure of what to say.
“Cal?”
“….”
“Is there a problem?”
“You….”
He muttered so and held his tongue. His clenched fist looked uneasy.
“Why? Doesn’t it look exactly like you?”
“It resembles me.”
It did resemble him, but….
“It looks exactly like Lian.”
Aris butted in, unable to hold back, bursting with laughter as if he were dying of amusement.
“Isn’t even the hair close to silver?”
“It’s blonde.”
“Yes, ash-tinted blonde. Like Lian’s hair color.”
Asteril’s cheeks reddened.
“Do you… wish to see Lian?”
It was a question he felt he shouldn’t ask. Calian pressed his narrowed brow and then stroked his throat.
“I just….”
Asteril flushed her cheeks red as if embarrassed. Calian’s pupils trembled as if he had been struck in the back of the head with a blunt weapon.
He had been suspicious for a while… Was it the King of Hades she had fallen for, or Lian of the Star Palace?
It felt like a sealed forbidden jar shattering before his eyes.
“Because I want to see him.”
“Who?”
“…Lady Lian.”
“The me before you is Lian.”
“It’s different.”
“….”
“Cal is different from Lady Lian.”
“Must I slowly recite the conversations I shared with you when I was Lian, one by one, for you to believe?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
Asteril looked at the ground again, seemingly embarrassed. It was absurd. Her, being this shy? She couldn’t meet eyes and was bashful like a girl confessing love for the first time.
“That unique atmosphere is different. You are a man. Lady Lian is….”
“Do you wish I were a woman?”
“No! That’s not it. I don’t know, what kind of feeling this is….”
Calian was confused. She didn’t know what kind of feeling this was? That was what he should be saying. Did it come to this—that he had to regard even himself as an object of wariness?
In the meantime, Aris, having peered between the clay doll’s legs, tilted his head.
“But this is male… no, a male body?”
Calian kicked Aris in the back. He said the obvious and fell over. The launched Aris went “Uwaak!” and crashed face-first with a thud.
“Ah, agh… Lian, you!”
“Cover it.”
Aris got up with a “tch” and meekly covered the clay doll with cloth.
“I thought that if you were to become a male while retaining Lord Lian’s appearance, this is probably what you would look like.”
The bone structure and facial lines were almost exactly the same as Calian’s, but the hair and eye color were subtly different. Of course, only she and Mnemosyne could tell the difference… The lip color was a slightly prettier rose shade, the skin tone slightly whiter, the eyes slightly more seductive.
Veins bulged on Calian’s neck. His larynx kept bobbing uneasily. Never in his life had he been this bewildered.
He stared intently at the clay doll in Lian’s form… no, resembling his former self. Fortunately, it wasn’t a woman but did look like a pretty boy.
Asteril clasped her hands together tightly with an anxious expression.
Calian did not particularly like his current face either. It was understandable that he disliked it, since his already elegant face had become even prettier.
But she liked it.
Imagining him whispering “Come here, you…” in a low voice with Lady Lian’s face made her heart pound madly.
Calian glanced sideways. Asteril’s heart, filled with happiness, was beating pleasantly.
Anteros’s happiness was his happiness. Her wish should be his wish… or so it should be.
His two hands swept down his pale face. What in the world was he to call this? His vacant gaze wandered, lost.
Aris covered his mouth and shrugged his shoulders, holding back laughter.
Even though he had become male and they had mixed bodies and spent countless nights together, it meant she still preferred Lian, who had been female. And Lian’s pride was higher than the sky—what to do?
It was amusing, but he also began to pity him. He had never seen Lian with an expression so devastated that even his soul seemed extinguished. Aris cleared his throat with ahem and scolded Asteril.
“At least change the hair color. That’s too obviously Lian.”
“Why? Lady Lian’s hair color is pretty.”
“So you don’t like Lian’s current hair color?”
“How could that be! I like it very much even now, but….”
Asteril glanced sideways to gauge Calian’s complexion. He already had the face of one who had given up. He looked as if he had neither the will nor strength to answer. She reluctantly replied, “I understand.”
Aris covered his mouth and burst into roaring laughter. Kalian, suppressing his anger with a withering glare, clamped his mouth shut in annoyance and delivered a kick several times stronger than before into Aris’s back.
Aris let out a shriek and tumbled forward. Even while sprawled flat on the floor, he clutched his stomach and laughed.
Even after that, Kalian’s terrifying attacks continued several more times, but Aris’s giggling laughter showed no signs of stopping and spilled out endlessly.
— Continued in Volume 5