The God of Underworld - Chapter 205

205: Chapter 49 205: Chapter 49 Inside the quiet carriage, the scent of pine and leather mixed with the faint perfume of herbs that Artemis always carried.

The walls were adorned with hunting trophies, pelts of great beasts, and charms strung with feathers and bones.

Artemis sat cross-legged on one side, her silver narrowed at her sister, while Athena sat opposite, her posture as perfect and unyielding as always, her face calm and unreadable.

Artemis wasted no time.

Her voice cut the silence like an arrow through the air.

“Athena, tell me plainly.

Are you truly willing to marry that man, that Herios?” Athena did not falter.

She inclined her head in a simple nod, her calmness almost infuriating.

Artemis’ lips pressed into a pout, her arms crossing against her chest as she leaned back.

“Unbelievable.

You and I swore it, remember?

We swore to remain pure, untouched by the lusts of men, to dedicate our lives to the hunt and to wisdom.

Yet here you are, already prepared to throw away your vow.” She huffed, her brows furrowing.

“What is so good about that man anyway?

What does he have that makes you of all people bend?” Athena’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, her expression soft but still unreadable.

“You would not understand, Artemis.

Not unless you saw him as I do.” Artemis scowled, but her scowl shifted into a mischievous grin.

“Then perhaps I should try.

Perhaps I should marry Herios myself.

At least that way, the two of us sisters would still be together.

And I can see what made you so captivated.” The air in the carriage shifted instantly.

Athena’s eyes darkened, a flash of divine light radiating from them so sharp and cold that Artemis instinctively flinched.

For the first time in a long while, Artemis felt an edge of fear.

Athena’s expression had transformed into something terrifyingly blank, her face stripped of all warmth, her gaze flat and merciless like the coldest blade.

“Do not,” Athena said, her voice calm yet carrying the weight of unshakable command, “even joke about that.” The silence that followed was suffocating.

Artemis swallowed hard, her usual boldness faltering.

She raised her hands in surrender, her voice softer than usual.

“Alright, alright.

I understand.

I apologise, sister.

That was uncalled for.

I won’t say such things again.” Athena did not move, her gaze lingering on Artemis for several tense moments, as if measuring her sincerity.

Then, slowly, she blinked, and her expression returned to its usual calm neutrality.

She gave a single nod.

Artemis released the breath she had been holding, rubbing her arms to chase off the shiver that had run down her spine.

“Gods above, Athena, you could frighten even father with eyes like that.” She sighed, trying to steady herself.

“Very well, I won’t tease you on this matter again.

Let us move on.

Why have you truly come here?” Athena folded her hands neatly in her lap, her eyes steady.

“I came seeking information.

Specifically, I wish to know the whereabouts of Medusa.

She is still my priestess, and though I have been tied up with matters in the mortal world, I have not forgotten her.

It has been far too long since I heard any word.

I intend to meet her.” Artemis tilted her head, her lips pressing together as she thought.

“Medusa, yes.

After Lady Hecate removed Poseidon’s vile curse, our father saw it fit to send her away, far from Olympus, far from the noise of mortals and gods alike.

He placed her on an island of stone and wind, a place hidden in the folds of the world.

A rocky island called Shapeless Isle.” Artemis’ voice grew lower, more thoughtful.

“It lies beyond the known lands, sister.

Some say it sits at the very edge of Oceanus, perhaps even past it, in waters where mortal sailors cannot dream to tread.” Athena’s brows furrowed faintly.

“Secluded, hidden beyond Oceanus… I see.

That is indeed fitting for her.

But it also means reaching her will not be simple.” Artemis leaned forward slightly, her eyes searching Athena’s face.

“You truly intend to go to her?

Aren’t you still being punished by father?” Athena’s gaze was unwavering.

“Father didn’t set a time limit.

I can enjoy my time here in the mortal world for as long as I want.

Besides, I cannot protect my priestess well.

Meeting with her to make sure she is okay is the least I can do.” Artemis exhaled slowly, her expression softening with reluctant respect.

“You never change.

Always so bound to duty, even to those most would forget.

Very well, Athena.

I have given you what I know.

But heed me, Shapeless Isle is not a place even heroes tread lightly.

The waters beyond Oceanus are… strange.

Even I would not guide my Huntresses there.” * * * Outside the carriage, the commotion only grew louder as Artemis’ huntresses circled around Herios like a pack of curious wolves, their eyes sparkling with awe, curiosity, and a dangerous kind of mischief.

“Is it true you are the Hero King Herios, the one who fought gods and established the human order?” one young huntress asked, her bow still in hand as she leaned far too close to his face.

Another chimed in, her voice rising with excitement, “How are you still alive?

That was eons ago!

Did the Fates bless you?

Or did you cheat death?” Someone else giggled and pressed on, “Why have you come here?

Surely not just to follow Lady Athena around.

Do you want to start your own harem of huntresses?

You could, you know.

Many would line up if you so much as asked.” Herios, with his calm but awkward smile, rubbed the back of his neck.

His heart told him to tell them to scatter, but his kindness refused to let sharp words leave his lips.

Instead, he laughed weakly, trying to look composed, though his eyes betrayed how uncomfortable he was.

He was a man who had once stood before armies, faced gods in open defiance, and toppled monsters that threatened humanity, yet here he was, nearly undone by a ring of scantily clad women firing questions at him like arrows.

Atalanta, who had been watching from the side with her arms crossed, finally stepped forward, her green tail flicking with irritation.

“Enough,” she said firmly, her voice carrying the authority of someone Artemis trusted deeply.

“You are all huntresses of Lady Artemis.

You should be sharpening your arrows or keeping watch, not acting like gossiping maidens at a spring festival.” The huntresses groaned in disappointment, exchanging pouts and reluctant glances, but Atalanta’s words carried weight.

“Return to your duties before Lady Artemis herself notices.

Do you want to be punished for neglecting your posts?” At the mention of punishment, the group hesitated no more.

With grumbles and sly, lingering stares at Herios, they dispersed back to their tasks.

Herios let out a long sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as if he had just survived another battlefield.

He turned to Atalanta, his expression sincere.

“Thank you.

I was beginning to wonder if I would ever escape from that alive.” Atalanta raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her catlike eyes.

“For a man who is supposed to be the Hero King, slayer of gods, and progenitor of humanity, you looked like a deer cornered by wolves.

You mean to tell me you were afraid of a few questions from women?” Herios gave a wry smile, his tone tired but honest.

“Afraid?

No.

Awkward?

Absolutely.

Facing spears and divine wrath is one thing, but being surrounded by hundreds of beautiful women wearing next to nothing is…

a different kind of trial.” Atalanta tilted her head, her lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“Hah, the great king of heroes, acting so timid like a boy who hasn’t touched a woman.

That would explain why you look so uneasy.

For all your glory, perhaps you never once laid with a woman?” Herios closed his eyes briefly and exhaled through his nose, refusing to take the bait.

He did not confirm or deny.

Inside, however, he could not help but think about the truth.

It’s not like he hadn’t slept with a woman, after all he had once ruled a kingdom, had seven women in his royal harem who were not just companions but queens.

He had loved each and every single one of them.

Unfortunately, they have all died before him.

And he had never taken other women since even after his death.

So although he was accustomed to female touch, these huntresses were not his queens but women who lived half-naked under Artemis’ strict vow, their youthful energy unrestrained, and their curiosity unfiltered.

He was surrounded by them in numbers so great that if one grew too bold, others would follow, and the thought alone made his blood stir against his will.

He clenched his jaw and kept his distance, telling himself over and over: he was not a pervert, nor was he a man who would succumbed to his desires.

Besides, if Athena caught even a whisper of this scene turning into something else, the huntresses would surely suffer from Athena’s wrath.

That woman’s jealousy knows no bounds.

Herios finally opened his eyes again, meeting Atalanta’s teasing stare with calm resolve.

“Please.

I am Athena’s ‘husband’, what would you think would happen if I decided to indulge them?” Atalanta blinked, then let out a short laugh.

“At least you know fear where it truly matters.” She turned away, though the twitching of her tail betrayed her amusement.

“Very well, Hero King.

Try to survive Lady Artemis’ camp without losing your composure.

That will be a battle even you may not win.” Herios chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Perhaps the hardest battle of all.”