vncnus Chapter 4, Number 2
Chapter 4, Number 2
Upper Trojan Nest
"Mother, I absolutely must participate in this selection."
The young Achilles raised his hand to remove the red wreath from his head, casually ripping off his upper garment, revealing his lean and muscular body, the lines of his muscles taut with power ready to be unleashed.
"You know I can do it. I am stronger than anyone else. I am the strongest warrior in Troy, and I will make all of Troy remember my name and let the land of Ilios hear my fame."
"Why are you stopping me, Mother?"
She is now the patriarch of the Thetis family and the mother who inherited the name Thetis.
Thetis gazed at her son with her clear, sky-blue eyes, as bright as the ocean waves.
Her voice was soft, yet it sounded like a preordained prophecy: "Achilles, you will die on this journey."
Thetis wanted to keep her son.
Since Cassandra was imprisoned by the royal family.
The rightful heir to Athena's church was killed by Paris.
Hector intended to suppress divine authority, so after his intervention and weighing of various factors,
Hector selected the head of the Thetis family, a Trojan noble family and his staunch ally, as a candidate for the new High Priest of Athena.
Meanwhile, with Hector's tacit approval, Cassandra secretly handed over the birdcage-shaped relic, which was said to be a gift from the all-knowing god, to Thetis.
Thetis, upon receiving the sacred object, was overwhelmed with emotions, her trepidation and curiosity about the unknown intertwined like threads.
Driven by these emotions, Thetis, through the sacred object, made her first prophecy with unparalleled boldness.
The storm nearly destroyed her body, and malice threatened to tear her sanity apart, just as Thetis thought she would pay the price, and that the price would be her life.
She saw an incomparably holy deity, dressed in a blue haori, whose body shone as brightly as the starry sea.
She fervently prayed to the gods for help, and the gods saved her and would ask her for something in the future.
She asked herself if she could secure the position of High Priestess, and the gods gave her an affirmative answer.
The Primarch, who is not yet fully mature, needs to use her to control the doctrine in order to stabilize the situation.
Then, the greedy Thetis set her sights on the future of the Trojan kingdom.
Before her eyes appeared a scene completely different from Kassandra's prophecy: a golden phantom god descended to earth, and a well-organized legion of giants trod the land of Troy. Among the crowd, she clearly saw a figure—her son, Achilles.
"You can't go." Thetis's voice was choked with sobs, and tears finally welled up in her eyes.
At this moment, she had shed the majesty of the family patriarch and the halo of the high priestess; she was simply a mother who had witnessed her son's tragic end and was filled with despair.
She clearly foresaw that her son would eventually die at the hands of Prince Paris, and that Achilles' most cherished friend would also perish by King Hector's sword.
But she couldn't say anything.
Whenever she tries to reveal something, she instantly loses consciousness, as if her soul is being torn apart by an immense force.
To this day, Thetis can't even remember why she was willing to risk the annihilation of her entire race to peek into the future time and time again.
"Everyone must die eventually, Mother."
Achilles raised his hand and gently wiped away the tears from his mother's eyes. He gazed into those sorrowful blue eyes and spoke with a firm tone:
"But before that, I am destined to become Troy's most glorious and powerful warrior!"
"This is what I was born for."
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When the massive ram of the Imperial Dream pierced the clouds above Troy, when countless ships appeared in planetary orbit, the enormous fleet obscured the Trojan sky and the sun that emitted its light.
Everyone stared blankly at the shadows overhead and at the continuous 'steel continent' that appeared in the sky.
Hector's superhuman hearing could hear the pounding heartbeats of the generals, the hushed swallowing of most of them, their weak words, and even the worshipful prayers of some.
Gazing at what didn't resemble a warship at all, but rather a steel continent equipped with engines and giant cannons, and dotted with churches and fortresses, Hector had only one thought in his mind.
Powerlessness and humiliation.
Even if Hector was unwilling to face it, he knew that this uninvited guest called the Empire of Man was an existence that Troy could not resist in the present day.
They simply couldn't put the entire planet on high alert in a mere thirty minutes, nor could they get all their battle barges and warships in Athena's docks into orbit.
Even the most incompetent and foolish pigs and dogs could say that the other side is already a candle in the wind after losing orbital defense and star sea.
So Hector should even laughably be thankful that they didn't have much time to prepare a defense, and that they chose to welcome them with a weak line rather than resist!
Thinking of this, Hector weakly raised his arm, signaling the honor guard behind him to begin playing the welcoming music.
A welcoming symphony, a blend of singing, the somber sound of horns, and the clanging of metal weapons, resounded before the palace walls.
He did not blame any official, and his burning rationality prevented him from actually doing something as wasteful as levying taxes on eleven people before the war.
Hector's eyes were fixed on the massive flagship; he would never forget this humiliation.
"I hope you are right, Narcissus."
"Hopefully we won't revive the plans we abandoned when facing Agamemnon."
Narcissus maintained his smile.
"I swear, Your Majesty."
"I saw holy golden light, I saw a towering giant, I saw my soul surrendering and in faith."
Hector paid no heed to what Narcissus said, for he had already sent his Second Guard with thirty percent of the defense force to the tunnel entrance.
As soon as the piercing alarm sounds in Troy, they will rush into Troy's underground tunnels, abandoning all chances of escape, turning Troy's underground into a flesh-and-blood grinder for each other.
The time was both short and long.
In anxious anticipation, the emperor arrived in the mortal realm.
Hector stood still, surveying his surroundings. Everyone was kneeling.
Whether it was his personal guards, his ministers, or even his brother Paris.
Everyone knelt down.
Their faces were so devout, as if they had seen a god descend upon the world.
In that instant, Hector felt neither the anger of betrayal nor the same longing for the emperor as they did.
He stood there blankly, a strange sense of absurdity rising within him.
The giant, radiating golden light, walked up to him. Hector's face showed little expression, even though he felt an overwhelming sense of attachment and affection.
Hector raised his head and looked at the golden emperor.
He could sense that everything about the person in front of him was the product of meticulous design, from the golden light to his aura that would inspire fervent worship in anyone who merely glanced at him.
Hector was somewhat surprised to find that disgust and attachment coexisted in his heart.
At that very moment, the last memory appeared in Hector's mind.
He finally knew who the person in front of him was, and he finally knew where that damned feeling of familiarity came from.
This is his—
"My offspring."
"Number Two."
Father.