Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Chapter 789: Chapter 288 Theater

Nameless Forest stretched under the sky as the God of West Wind, having lost track of his target, fruitlessly searched for the “lost child.”

However, Zephyrus wasn’t all that anxious about the matter.

After all, it was just a brief rest, not a significant delay, and the person shouldn’t have gotten far.

After all, where could a lone person possibly run?

He thought this and acted accordingly.

Unbeknownst to the God of West Wind, as he searched, Heracles cleaved a path through the obstructive shrubs of the nameless forest beneath him.

“Swish——”

“Crack——”

Blade met shrub as he advanced, wearing down the edge of his weapon.

The original jungle was lush, impeding passage unless cleared.

Fortunately, Heracles, possessing tremendous strength, cared little for such expenditure of effort—it simply took a bit more time.

“Whew——”

“The Nomas Lion, who knows where it hides?”

“The god arranging this trial never mentioned it… Perhaps finding it is part of the trial?”

His spirits were high, revealing no trace of the journey’s toil.

During these days, Heracles often felt intuitive signals but had never noticed the God of West Wind secretly following him.

After all, Zephyrus was a deity holding authority.

He was not easily exposed, certainly not to Heracles, who lacked means beyond brute force.

Thus, the young hero was unaware that he vanished inexplicably from the god’s sight. In contrast, he pondered how to complete his task.

While in Eryxis, Heracles met a well-learned Athenian who proved through actions that tales of Athenians’ extensive knowledge were not unfounded.

Yet, the hero before him wasn’t one to blindly follow—whether the God of West Wind’s words or Laine’s, he was only half convinced.

So, the trial had to continue to completion and the sea—still to be crossed. But meanwhile, he planned to gather more information and learn more about the secrets involved.

This trial was a great opportunity, especially since Heracles had never been to the northern continent.

He had long heard that evil gods ran rampant here but had never seen these excluded entities of mainstream faith.

Perhaps here, he could learn more…

“Whoosh——!”

“Hmm?”

Suddenly, he raised his hand and caught a sharp bone arrow.

A green glow flashed across the razor-sharp arrowhead—it was undoubtedly coated in poison.

Yet, the arrow, crafted from giant beast bones, couldn’t even scratch the hero’s skin, leaving only a white mark.

“Who’s there?!”

Rustling—

His sharp gaze bore into the distance, where he saw two figures emerging from the forest underbrush.

One held a bow, speaking in words Heracles couldn’t understand.

“༦༗༕♛ིྲ༵༠ྱ༥༦ི??”

“…”

“༊༖༿༺༈༙༻༉༡!!”

“…”

Silent and at a loss for words, Heracles found himself momentarily speechless.

“ུ༾༓༷༤༩!!!””…Stop there. I am Heracles, traveling from the south of the Earth, here to slay the demons wreaking havoc.”

“Who are you, and why attack me unprovoked?”

Once more, silence enveloped them. Though unsure if his words could be understood, Heracles spoke.

Whether understood or not, it demonstrated his desire to communicate.

However, judging by their reactions, his words had no effect.

The people clothed in animal skins eyed him warily as if guarding against an enemy and Heracles grew impatient.

If communication truly failed, he would have to take on these hostile figures.

Just as he prepared to act, Heracles saw the underbrush behind them rustle again.

An older man emerged, waving his hand, and two beams of light fell upon the bow-wielding duo.

“Please forgive our rudeness, distinguished traveler.”

“They meant no harm, as this area has always been our tribe’s hunting grounds. We hunt here, offering our catch to the deities.

“The incident just now was likely because they mistook you for an enemy. But I know that a strong individual like you wouldn’t concern yourself with us.”

Though still in that strange tongue, this time, Heracles understood.

Was it the rumored Shaman Demon Technique, allowing people to understand each other’s meaning? Yet in Heracles’ eyes, it seemed more like Divine Arts.

Regardless of what it was, as long as communication could happen, it was fine.

“No harm.”

“I am Heracles, from Thebes, here to hunt the Nomas Lion.”

“Even in the south, I’d heard of its impenetrable hide, not even pierced by Apollo’s arrows.”

“But it can’t stop me, so by divine guidance, I will eliminate this threat.”

His tone was calm and matter-of-fact; although Heracles had encountered fearsome demons considered powerful by ordinary people, they fell easily in his hands.

Perhaps this lion was a challenge, but Heracles didn’t think it could truly stop him.

He was more interested in these local people he encountered.

The God of West Wind had warned him that the monstrous lion was under an evil god’s control.

And being an evil god, it would surely have followers and tribes.

Who knew what these people were? Maybe they were evil god believers.

Being outwardly harmless didn’t mean they weren’t a disguise.

With vigilance, Heracles watched their reaction.

Surprisingly, none of the three seemed disturbed by his claims.

They didn’t view his coming to hunt the giant lion as wrong; on the contrary, the old man even smiled happily, welcoming him.

In the ensuing conversation, Heracles unexpectedly discovered they knew the whereabouts of the Nomas Lion and even some of its secrets.

“Hero from afar, the tribe welcomes you.

“And about the Nomas Lion, we do have some knowledge.”

On the way back to the elder’s tribe, Heracles listened as he spoke.

“It is said that when the King of All Monsters ravaged the world, the gods of Olympus fled.”

“The power of the hundred-headed dragon-serpent was something they couldn’t contend with; few gods who resisted paid the price, and Hestia was one of them.”

“Though the Goddess of Hearthfire is a noble Principal God, she was no match for the primal ancestor of demons.”

“During one grievous wound, her blood flowed onto the Earth and was acquired by a fortunate demon.”

“That demon, bathed in divine blood, became the Nomas Lion.”

The elder spoke smoothly, as if witnessing it firsthand.

After hearing this, Heracles found one of his uncertainties resolved.

To emerge unscathed from Apollo’s arrows wasn’t a trivial matter, even if his silver bow wasn’t truly a divine weapon.

Yet if the lion’s hide had been tempered by the goddess’s divine blood, it could undoubtedly advance from its original state.

“But it still can’t stop me, impenetrable hide or not.”

With confidence in his voice, Heracles was unconcerned about a formidable enemy.

“So please tell me its whereabouts. I’d be grateful for your help.”

“Of course, I won’t deter you.”

The elder nodded, smiled, and continued,

“I only wish to remind you that if you do kill the lion, why not bathe in its blood and don its hide?”

“Perhaps this could transform you, granting even greater strength.”

With a slight shift in expression, Heracles took note of this.

It made some sense. Once he succeeded, perhaps he could indeed try.

Without following the elder back to their tribe, after learning the lion’s location, Heracles set out alone once more.

Meanwhile, as he and the elder conversed, an unseen wind circled above three times, yet failed to detect his trace.

While this chance encounter was somewhat unexpected, the young hero did gain new insights from it.

The only odd thing he felt was that the two with the bows seemed rather stiff.

“Maybe it’s because they rarely interact with outsiders… nothing peculiar about that.”

Thinking privately, Heracles pressed on.

Before parting, the elder had warmly invited him to visit their tribe, wearing the beast’s hide, once he defeated the lion so the youth could witness such a hero.

Given the elder saved him significant time, Heracles agreed.

“Come then… my life’s first genuine great battle!”

Full of fighting spirit, Heracles gripped a stone club he’d carelessly picked up.

According to the elder, the lion was no more than a day’s journey away.

Since starting out, he had yet to engage in a full-fledged fight.

Today, at last, he had the chance.

…

Rustling…

Watching Heracles depart, the elder lingered at the spot for a while longer.

But he didn’t enjoy the peace for long before feeling a pat on his shoulder.

“I know, we’re heading back now.”

Unfazed, the elder glanced at the two young bowmen.

How nice… at least they don’t feel anything…

Shaking his head, the elder then followed a small path back.

The mountain forests had no roads, but where people often traversed, paths emerged.

Following the trampled trace, the elder pressed on.

Not long past a towering tree, the view before him opened up.

Though called a tribe, what lay before the elder now was a city.

Stone-paved roads, people moving to and fro, and merchants trading.

Seeing the temples of the gods hinted from afar, the city seemed even more comprehensive than external cities.

While external cities might lack temples for every god, here, it seemed each had one.

The flow of people was constant, with occasional calls from vendors reaching the ear.

Yet none reacted to the elder’s arrival as if there was no one there at all.

Unconcerned, the elder simply watched as the bowmen left and set off purposefully for the city center.

Passing craftsmen at work and priests before temples,

He halted at the city’s heart only then.

There stood a Great Temple dedicated to Zeus, the grandest of them all.

Not entering, he lingered a moment.

But Zeus’ temple remained unchanged, just as it always was.

He turned to leave and headed toward the outer parts of the city.

Traversing streets and brushing past countless “passersby,”

His final stop was a blacksmith shop, the city’s lone functioning yet abandoned place.

He gave it a complex look, then continued onward, arriving before a small courtyard.

Knock, knock, knock—

“Come in.”

The voice inside was calm. The elder pushed open the door.

Inside was a modest scene, a simple yard.

The only difference was the folk sitting within.

One was a young child, delicately manipulating threads as small wooden figures danced.

The other was the young man who had spoken before.

Upon close inspection, one would find he had no face.

It was as if something wiped it away, like some unseen taboo.

He wasn’t meant to have one, nor was he allowed.

Faceless youthful laughter, joyfully dancing wooden figures…

An otherwise chilling tableau, yet for now, the elder merely waited.

He’d seen such sights often.

Nothing but silence; he only needed to wait patiently.

“Sir, he must be seeking me; I’ll excuse myself for now.”

Finally, after a long moment when a dance concluded, the child stood, speaking apologetically.

The faceless youth nodded, indifferent to his departure.

The child led the elder out, closing the gate behind.

As the courtyard shut, an unspoken aura enveloped the alley… or perhaps the city.

“It seems you found him, Mr. Ande?”

His expression shifted from joy to calm as the child asked softly.

“Yes, Mr. Ande.”

Bowing slightly, a flicker shone in Kolon’s eyes.

“Just as you arranged.”

“That outsider accepted my invitation, and he’s hunting the ‘lion’ now.”

“When he’s done, he’ll come here.”

“Is that so…”

Nodding, the youth remained indifferent.

Heracles… he wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last.

If only he had some ability to aid, for there was something he sought an answer to.