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Play the Villain - Chapter 291 - Vol. 2 - Chapter 118: The Unlucky Orion 2
🕑 Added 2025-10-26 00:12:12 +0000 UTCOn the outskirts of Mycenae, a bulky figure moved quietly beneath the moonlight.
As it stepped out from the shadowed woods and into the cool, silvery glow, it became clear this was not a single figure, but four overlapping forms.
The goddess of wisdom, clutching someone’s right arm, glanced at Medusa—whose hand Samael held with his left—and Tina, who was clinging to his back. A wave of irritation washed over her.
I was the first one here! Why are you all crowding in now?
“Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, rock to the doorstep.”
“Aa!”
Samael’s lips curved into a soft smile. Tina, perched happily on his back, let out a cheerful squeal and planted a quick kiss on the ancient serpent’s neck—a playful gesture of praise and encouragement toward her “mount.”
The city’s outline was already visible ahead, and the ancient serpent finally set Tina down.
The restless young goddess dashed forward with boundless energy, while Medusa hurried after her to keep pace.
Left behind, Athena frowned at Samael, who bent forward slightly with his hands held behind him.
“What is it?”
“On the way here, you looked a bit jealous of Tina’s spot. Want me to carry you for the last stretch?”
“Carry me? I’m not a child!”
“You don’t want to? Fine then…”
“Thud!”
Before Samael could straighten up, a sudden weight landed firmly on his back.
“Are we walking or not?”
Athena’s faintly nasal voice came from behind, ignoring her earlier refusal.
Tsk, still so stubborn.
The ancient serpent chuckled softly, shaking his head as he hoisted the gradually maturing Goddess of Wisdom onto his back and started down the moonlit path.
Behind him, Athena wrapped her arms around Samael’s neck. Watching the shadow of his bowed figure beneath her, a faint, amused smile curled at her lips.
Fine. I’ll forgive you this time.
“By the way, I have a question for you.”
As they walked, Samael tilted his head slightly, his tone contemplative.
“What is it?”
“Why do you never call Themis ‘mother’? You only call her ‘aunt.’ Technically, she’s one of your foster mothers.”
“Technically, I should be calling her ‘great-aunt’! My mother called her ‘aunt’—can’t I just follow precedent?”
“Be honest…”
“It’s friendlier—and doesn’t make her sound old!”
“Who would believe that? Be honest.”
“It’s misleading! This way, no one will guess I’m Metis’s daughter!”
“Still acting up, huh? Be honest.”
Samael’s expression darkened as he pinched Athena’s firm thigh, his voice firm.
“Themis treats both Metis and you as her daughters. She’s cared for you two no less than I have. How can you say she doesn’t count as a mother?”
“So what if she does…”
Athena hissed through her teeth, turning her head away to mutter softly while sneaking a glance at the figure ahead.
“I don’t acknowledge it, so it doesn’t count…”
Hearing that defiant murmur, the ancient serpent released her, letting Athena drop lightly to the ground.
“We’re almost there. Walk the rest yourself.”
“Didn’t you promise to carry me?”
“I don’t acknowledge it—it doesn’t count!”
Tsk. Who’s the child now?
The Goddess of Wisdom rolled her eyes at the receding figure, though a faint spark of satisfaction glimmered in her gaze.
...
Meanwhile, the divine council of Olympus had just adjourned as usual.
In the night, a figure streaked across the sky like a shooting star and landed outside Mycenae. After carefully scanning the surroundings, they cast a flickering mass of shifting light onto the ground.
The strange thing—half real, half ethereal—dissipated like mist, thinning into strands that seeped into the earth. Only then did the figure exhale in relief, wiping cold sweat from their brow before leaping away, unwilling to linger even a moment longer.
Not until they had sprinted all the way back to Olympus did the unexplainable thrum of unease in their chest finally begin to fade.
“SMACK!”
The sudden, heavy slap from behind made the handsome man beneath the sacred flame—his head crowned with a winged cap—jump up in alarm, his face pale with shock.
“Hermes, did you deliver the goods?”
A rough voice rang out. A head of tangled hair, wild as a lion’s mane, leaned close, its grotesque features set in a serious expression.
“Delivered, delivered! His Majesty’s personal order—would I dare delay it?”
Recognizing the visitor, Hermes finally relaxed a little, though his tone was still edged with irritation.
“Good, good. Humanity’s days will be much easier from now on...”
The ugly face behind him eased into satisfaction, a faint, inexplicable gentleness in his muttering tone.
“By the way, Hephaestus, the meeting ended ages ago. Why haven’t you gone?”
Hermes cast a glance at his brother—the one he’d once invited up the mountain—and asked casually.
“I didn’t feel right leaving before you got back. I’m still uneasy about that matter.”
Hephaestus scratched his head, his broad grin carrying its usual simple warmth.
“Alright, alright. I’ve already handled it. No need to worry yourself. Go get some rest while you can.”
Hermes patted the fire god’s shoulder with a light chuckle.
“Haha, true enough. With everyone helping and Father watching over us, there’s nothing to worry about.”
With Father watching over us—that’s exactly what worries me!
The divine messenger kept his expression calm, but inside he was muttering curses.
He’d seen enough of Zeus’s secrets to know the God King’s cunning nature, and he feared the intellect and manipulation hidden behind that so-called wisdom.
He knew perfectly well what Zeus’s attitude toward humans had been before.
And now, suddenly, he was changing his tune—granting blessings to mankind? That didn’t sound right at all.
The more Hermes thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. The hand that had touched that thing itched faintly, as if something were crawling under his skin.
Completely unaware, Hephaestus threw an arm warmly around the messenger’s shoulders, giving his chest a friendly thump with his right fist.
“Hermes, my good brother, you’ve been running around nonstop. You must be exhausted and hungry.
As it happens, I’m in a rare good mood tonight. I’m staying on Olympus, so why not come by my palace for a few drinks?”
Still dazed, Hermes forced a strained laugh and waved him off.
“I still need to report back to Father. I’ll have to pass tonight.”
“Relax, just a few drinks—it won’t take long. All the serious business is done, a few loose ends won’t matter.
Besides, I’m heading back to Mount Etna tomorrow. When else will I get to see you?”
“I—”
“Come on, come on.”
And just like that, the slender Hermes was pulled along by the burly Hephaestus toward the temple.
...
Upon the grand throne, Zeus sat with the Thunderbolt in one hand and the Aegis Shield in the other. After some time, he slowly opened his eyes, silver-white arcs of lightning flickering in their depths.
Far below, he gazed across the mortal world. From the bodies of sleeping humans—faces twisted, limbs curled—countless threads of black mist seeped from their pores and sank into the earth.
As those impurities left them, the humans’ expressions softened. Their brows unfurrowed, their breathing grew steady, and their bodies seemed to faintly glow, as if purified.
Be grateful—for this blessing that I, your king, and the gods have bestowed upon you.
Zeus lightly tapped his Thunderbolt, nodding in satisfaction. The light in his eyes grew deep and shadowed.
Yet this gift is far too precious. I only fear you may not be able to bear it.
