Chapter 44: Hephaestus (11)
Among those in the coliseum, Zeus was perhaps the most shocked.
“You knew, didn’t you, brother?”
“Of course. Why else would that kid boldly demand a trial by combat?”
“Then…”
“Why didn’t I tell you? Get a grip. Whatever your reasons, to that boy, you and Hera practically abandoned him.”
“…”
“You two are some sinful parents. I left the kid with Hera, so go see him.”
Zeus vanished to find Hephaestus at Poseidon’s words.
“Tch, what an idiot,” Poseidon muttered, then turned to Athena. “Athena, take care of Ares.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
Poseidon, grumbling about Ares’ insolence, plopped onto a plush sofa and poured wine for Hades.
“Snap out of it and try this. Some famous mortal made it—tastes fantastic.”
“…”
Despite Poseidon’s offer, Hades clung to his cigar, deep in serious thought.
“Still out of it, huh? What, scared of Zeus’ kid now?” Poseidon teased.
Hades, snapped out of his reverie, glared at Poseidon.
“Ridiculous. Scared of a brat barely out of his fledgling phase?”
“Then why the long face?”
“Tch, as if a bit of lightning means anything.”
Hades stubbed out his cigar in irritation at Poseidon’s nonchalance.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
“Other than Uranus, only Zeus could wield that power. Now his son does too.”
“The symbolism, the authority, the power it carries.”
Poseidon sighed at Hades’ intensity.
“Then have a kid of your own. We share the same blood—nothing’s stopping you.”
“…”
Little did Poseidon know, this casual remark would later unleash chaos upon the mortal world, as the Fates alone could foresee.
The gods and mythical beings invited to witness Hephaestus’ duel were as stunned as the Olympians.
Lightning was a power exclusive to Uranus and Zeus, its symbolism unmatched.
For Hephaestus, the lame blacksmith god—not Athena or Ares—to wield it was a staggering revelation.
“Is what I just saw real…?”
“I can’t believe it. Isn’t Hephaestus just a blacksmith god?”
“How can a craftsman fight like that, wielding fire and lightning?”
“Does this mean the true heir of Zeus has appeared…?”
***
The atmosphere in the infirmary was starkly different from the outside chaos.
Unlike the dazed gods, Hera gently stroked Hephaestus’ hair, left in her care by Poseidon.
Though she was a stern goddess, she wasn’t devoid of emotion.
Hephaestus was her sore spot.
Politically, her choices as a goddess were correct, but as a mother, they were undeniably wrong.
“Now that I think about it, it’s ironic that the most reckless of us is the most family-oriented,” Hera mused.
Indeed, the children raised by Poseidon were stronger and more upright than most, despite their quirks.
As Hera caressed Hephaestus, Zeus entered the infirmary.
Without looking at him, she asked, “What about Ares?”
“Others will handle him. That boy needs some punishment.”
“…”
Hera nodded, then glanced at Zeus, who was staring at Hephaestus with a complex expression.
“What will you do? No one expected Hephaestus to wield lightning.”
Zeus looked at his unconscious son and spoke.
“We acknowledge him. He’s my son, and Olympus needs a blacksmith god.”
“That’s it?”
Zeus fell silent at Hera’s question, turning away and leaving the infirmary.
Hera didn’t stop him.
“We’re truly sinful parents,” she murmured.
“But know this, Hephaestus—we’ve never stopped loving you. We can’t tell you what we did to protect you, nor do we expect understanding. Just remember one thing: we’ve always loved you.”
With that, Hera left the room.
As she departed, Hephaestus, eyes closed until then, slowly opened them.
He sat up, leaning against the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He felt as though every burning emotion within him had been extinguished all at once.
Lost in thought for a few minutes, the air shifted, and the room darkened.
A chilling frost crept in, as if water were seeping through the walls.
“Kekeke, I told you, didn’t I? That’s the kind of gods they are.”
“Don’t expect anything from them.”
A sinister voice echoed as black water oozed into the room.
To any witness, the scene would have been terrifying enough to flee screaming, but Hephaestus merely sighed, accustomed to it.
“Lord Poseidon, what prank is this now?”
The black water flinched at his words but continued to encroach, speaking ominously.
“No way! I’m the darkness within you!”
As the black water surged to engulf him, Hephaestus sighed again and pointed somewhere.
“Poseidon, what are you doing messing with the kid this time? Stop it right now!”
“Gah! Amph, how did you—?”
“Tch, Eurynome and the other goddesses are watching too. Stop this nonsense and come back before I make you regret it!”
Snap.
Amphitrite’s voice cut through, and silence fell over the infirmary.
“…”
“…”
The black water swiftly retreated and vanished.
Moments later…
Knock, knock, knock.
“Hephaestus, you okay? I told you not to use lightning.”
“…”
“This feels a bit much, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“…”
Poseidon strolled in casually, but Hephaestus wasn’t in the mood to entertain him.
One minute later.
“Ahem, so, how do you feel?”
“Aren’t you being a bit too shameless?”
“I was hoping you’d show some respect for your elders…”
“Sigh…”
Hephaestus let out an exhausted breath at Poseidon’s words, then spoke earnestly about his feelings.
“You were right, Lord Poseidon. My parents didn’t abandon me.”
“Exactly.”
“But that doesn’t mean I forgive them. When I needed them most, during my hardest times, it was Lady Thetis and my Cyclops masters who protected and comforted me.”
“Still, this ordeal has loosened the knot in my chest. Even if I become an Olympian god, I’ll stay with my Cyclops masters. I’m ready to let go of my resentment now.”
Poseidon nodded, acknowledging Hephaestus’ growth.
The boy, once consumed by vengeance when Thetis brought him to them, had finally matured into an adult.
“Well, well, a child’s growth always surpasses an adult’s expectations, doesn’t it? Right, Thetis and the Cyclops brothers?”
“Sniff…”
“Waaah, so sad!”
“Don’t overdo it, sniff.”
“…Grr.”
Poseidon dragged out the tearful Thetis and Cyclopes, who had been hiding and watching Hephaestus, tossing them toward him before leaving the room.
Though not bound by blood, it was time for family.
“Man… but what do I do? All those goddesses saw me…”
***
Days after the coliseum event, Hephaestus, now fully recovered, and a haggard-looking Ares gathered again in the coliseum.
It was time to settle the matter of Hephaestus’ victory and Ares’ defeat, as decreed by the three chief gods.
“All shall be granted to Hephaestus as he desires, in the names of Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon,” Zeus proclaimed, thunder echoing his words.
BOOM.
Hephaestus stood resolute, unfazed by the thunder, while Ares trembled, pleading with Zeus.
“Father, I’m your heir! Why does some promise with this crippled bastard matter?”
“Lock up this fool who humiliated me and make this whole thing disappear, please!”
Ares’ pathetic display drew grimaces and silent jeers from the gods in the coliseum.
Artemis and Apollo, sharing his bloodline, wondered if they should shoot an arrow through his head to shut him up.
He was single-handedly tarnishing Olympus’ honor and authority.
“Hah, one idiot keeps the balance, I suppose,” Hades remarked.
“Bad upbringing. Spoiled him too much,” Poseidon added.
Zeus’ face twisted at his brothers’ comments, glaring at Ares before sighing and issuing his decree.
“Strip Ares of his divine authority.”
At Zeus’ command, two figures seized Ares tightly.
Selene, Hecate, Themis, Leto, and Circe—goddesses and witches skilled in powerful magic—began casting spells from their positions.
First, starlight shimmered. Then, darkness enveloped the area. Finally, an empty void transformed the space into a localized realm of nothingness.
The two sacrificial golems holding Ares chanted an ancient incantation, said to have been spoken by Chaos itself at the world’s birth.
“Roopretelcham.”
—All shall be fulfilled!
Without pain or shock, a spear and shield emblem emerged naturally from Ares’ body.
— “Whoa…”
— “Is such magic even possible?”
It was the mark of his divine authority as the god of war and victory—something no force should be able to strip away, the essence of a god’s existence.
But Ares’ circumstances aligned perfectly against him:
- An immature god who hadn’t fully mastered his divine authority.
- A divinity filled not through personal realization but borrowed power.
- The self-inflicted collapse of his pride.
Ares had brought this calamity upon himself, ensnared by Hephaestus’ meticulous plan.
Had even one condition been unmet, this would’ve been impossible.
“The divine authority of war and victory now belongs to you, Hephaestus,” Zeus declared.
Hephaestus glanced at the extracted emblem, then turned to Poseidon and shouted.
“I offer this divine authority to the great sea god, Poseidon!”
“I will never forget the kindness you’ve shown me.”
Kneeling, Hephaestus raised the emblem high.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but he paid them no mind—he’d expected this reaction.
His goal was to weaken and punish Ares, not to claim war and victory for himself.
He was a craftsman, a blacksmith, after all.
Poseidon looked at Hephaestus kneeling, then at his brothers’ crumpled, paper-like expressions, bursting into laughter as he approached.
Of course, he didn’t miss the chance to jab at Zeus and Hades.