Chapter 3
In this land where immortality was the norm, why were there so many born with pitiful fates?
This pitiful nymph was destined to die soon—in a mock battle, by Athena’s mistake.
But I smiled bravely.
Because I wasn’t going to let you die.
Seeing Pallas reminded me of a child from my past life.
A child who had given laughter back to me, who had lost the ability to smile after a long battle with illness.
A child so bright that just looking at them made you smile.
Just like Pallas.
“Is something wrong, Lady Leuke?”
At the prolonged silence, Pallas tilted her head and asked. I hurriedly shook mine.
For now, Pallas was safe. Her destined death was during a mock battle with Athena—so if I could just prevent the mock battle, that would be enough.
But…
“It’s nothing. More importantly, where is Persephone right now?”
It’s not Persephone yet!
—
“Leuke!”
Hair the color of autumn wheat scattered in the night breeze. Persephone came running from afar.
Persephone wasn’t my niece like Athena was. But since she was Athena’s half-sister, I’d naturally treated her like family—and it seemed she truly thought of me as such as well.
“My goodness, Kore. How much have you been crying? Your eyes are completely red.”
Her spring-green eyes, reminiscent of lush summer foliage, were bloodshot with burst capillaries. Honestly, she looked like the one who needed treatment—not me.
“She cried nonstop after you collapsed.”
“We thought she was going to get dehydrated.”
The attendants who’d followed Persephone—my younger sisters—let out sighs. Among the Oceanid nymphs, twenty-one were currently serving as Persephone’s companions and attendants.
Regardless of the talk about dehydration, Persephone looked at me with tear-filled eyes—and then burst into sobs again.
“Do you know how scared I was when you collapsed coughing up blood? Sniff—waaah!”
Oh dear. This crybaby—she’s crying again. I hurriedly took out a handkerchief and wiped her tears.
“Stop crying, Kore. Your pretty eyes will swell.”
“…Sniff. Hmph. I don’t care. You shouldn’t have worried me.”
She answered curtly, but her cheeks were flushed rose-pink. That meant she was no longer sulking.
“But still, how could you make me wait all the way until now? Lady Demeter told me to return before sunset.”
“Well, might as well become an unfilial daughter today.”
Hey—rebelling already?
Demeter did tend to be overprotective of Persephone, but I understood her feelings completely.
In this R-rated, utterly chaotic Greek myth world, she was probably just trying to protect her daughter no matter what.
But in the end, all her efforts would be undone by Hades, who fell in love with the goddess of spring at first sight.
…Surely Persephone hasn’t met Hades already, right?
That was the real reason I’d rushed to see Kore.
Hades and Persephone.
There were many versions of their story, but the conclusion was always the same.
Persephone is abducted by Hades.
Even when I read the original myths, I’d always been deeply dissatisfied with Hades’s actions.
Sure, she later became queen of the underworld—but what about Persephone’s own will? Being dragged into the underworld so suddenly—how could that have been fine?
Of course it wasn’t.
Even in the original myth, Persephone languished after her abduction, yearning for her mother and friends.
And now, Persephone wanted to become a virgin goddess like Athena and Artemis. To think of her being abducted by Hades in that situation—it sent chills down my spine just imagining it.
“Kore, have you… ever met Lord Hades?”
“Yes! Lord Hades, ruler of the underworld!”
Please no.
Please, please—
“I’ve never met him, though.”
Yes! I cheered silently inside.
“Lord Hades stays underground most of the time. They say he occasionally comes to the surface, but he keeps himself completely covered, so no one even knows what he looks like.”
“Haa…”
Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness.
I could still stop it.
“Th-then, Kore.”
“What is it?”
“Do you perhaps want to get marr—”
“Are you insane?”
So that’s a no.
Persephone stared at me in horror, like she’d just heard something unspeakable.
“I told you last time. I’m going to remain a virgin goddess. I’m never getting married.”
She clenched her fist tightly, as if making a solemn vow.
“And marriage is a crazy thing.”
“Who told you that?”
“Lady Hera.”
For the goddess of marriage to say marriage was crazy—there really was nothing like advice from someone with firsthand experience.
“She said friendship with companions is far better than wishy-washy romance.”
“That’s right. Do whatever makes you happy, Kore.”
“Th-then… Leuke. Just for today. Just a liiiittle bit more—can’t we play a bit longer?”
“No. We can’t.”
Snip.
I rejected her outright.
“…You said I could do whatever I wanted.”
“Not in this case.”
The surface world at night wasn’t unconditionally safe for a young goddess.
Seeing that no persuasion would work, Kore puffed out her cheeks like a squirrel.
“Then what was that all about?”
“The sky suddenly changed.”
At that, I looked up at the sky. The night sky—where the goddess of night had spread her black wings—was as clear as ever, dotted beautifully with stars.
When I gave her a suspicious look, Persephone hurriedly explained that she was serious.
“Right after you collapsed, the sky suddenly opened wide in broad daylight.”
“I saw it too! I really did, Sister.”
Phaino—Persephone’s attendant and my younger sister—chimed in. So it wasn’t a lie?
“Then starlight poured down like a waterfall. It was so dazzling we couldn’t move for a while.”
“I thought my eyes would stop working. It was unbelievably beautiful.”
Everyone looked dazed, as though they’d seen some once-in-a-lifetime spectacle.
But I alone felt an inexplicable unease.
The sky opening…
Wasn’t that usually a sign in myths that a major god or hero had been born?
For a moment I wondered if Heracles had already appeared—then shook my head. No, the era didn’t match.
It’s probably nothing. If it were something major, it would’ve been in the original myth.
For now, it was enough that Persephone hadn’t met Hades yet. Phew—one burden off my shoulders.
“I get that something interesting happened while I was out, but shall we head home now?”
“Tch. We almost got away with it.”
“Away with what.”
I gestured coldly toward the saddle atop the dolphin.
Realizing persuasion was useless, Persephone obediently prepared to return home.
“We’re going straight back. If you wander off, don’t expect any more pomegranate pie from me.”
“We’ll go straight home.”
“Good.”
Threatened with her favorite pomegranate pie as a hostage, Persephone returned obediently with her nymphs.
For now, Persephone was safe—so next was Pallas. To save her, I had to stop the mock battle. But how could I prevent it…?
Ah.
Right.
That was it.
—
The next day, I came ashore at the very early hour when Phoebus’s sun chariot had just begun its journey.
“Yaaawn.”
Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I trudged forward.
The night before, I’d gone to Athena to make a request.
“Athena! Could you pause the mock battles for a while and teach me how to weave instead?”
“Suddenly, you want to weave?”
“I want to make a gift for Father. You know how disastrous my skills are.”
Sorry, Father. I had no intention of making you a gift—but this was the best excuse I had, so I used you.
Fortunately, Athena—the goddess of weaving—accepted without much suspicion. Raising a niece really was worth it.
“Don’t worry, Aunt. Just follow my lead.”
But the eyes Athena rested on me as she patted my shoulder were burning with the same intensity as some meme I’d seen in my past life.
The image of a bearded man shouting “Sparta!” flickered through my mind. Athena’s gaze was exactly like that.
Isn’t she the patron goddess of Athens, not Sparta?
“As the goddess of weaving, I’ll train you thoroughly!”
And so, in exchange for postponing the mock battle, I signed myself up for Spartan-style weaving lessons.
This was what people meant by self-inflicted disaster, wasn’t it… Still, if it was the price to save Pallas, it was dirt cheap.
Just as I resolved to take these weaving lessons seriously—
Brrrroooom!
Something approached from afar. My gaze turned instinctively.
It was a golden chariot, drawn by massive black horses.
