Chapter 183: Heracles (8)
Alcides had recognized his own extraordinariness from the moment he was born to his father Amphitryon and mother Alcmene.
The famous incident in which he strangled two snakes to death to protect his younger brother Iphicles—when he was not even twelve months old—was already legendary.
But it wasn’t just brute strength that made him exceptional. From the moment he began to walk, Alcides overpowered Thebes’s soldiers with both power and technique. At five years old, he defeated mana users. By now, ordinary spears and swords could no longer pierce his skin.
At seven, he fought his father Amphitryon—the greatest craftsman and finest warrior in Thebes—to a draw. And that was without using any mana at all.
There were also stories of him carrying cattle one by one across a swollen stream that no one else could cross, and of him beating down the Teras (monstrous creatures) that rampaged through Thebes. Alcides was a child utterly detached from ordinary common sense.
Fortunately—or perhaps mercifully—this extraordinary boy grew up receiving the unconditional love of his father and mother. He learned to control his strength, to get along with others, and to grow up properly like any other child.
Still… even so, Alcides had certain thirsts that remained unquenched. One of them was the desire to fight an absolute powerhouse he could not surpass—a life-or-death battle against someone truly beyond him.
In Alcides’s eyes, most humans were beings he could kill at any time. Only a very few were opponents he might struggle against right now—but given enough time, he was confident he could eventually defeat even them.
In that sense, it was almost inevitable that Alcides secretly visited the coliseum district in the black market run by the merfolk pirate crew of Thebes, without his parents’ knowledge.
And today, it seemed his choice had been correct.
“So that’s why Themis came to see me in person?”
Poseidon looked down at the child standing before him.
Even in his eyes, Alcides was completely out of specification. For now, the love of his parents kept him from going astray—but the moment he grew older and came to understand the world, he would become a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment.
Even now, a nine-year-old boy stood in the middle of this blood-and-flesh slaughterhouse with perfect composure, his calm eyes quietly searching for Poseidon’s vital points.
Not even the children of gods reached this level.
‘A bomb that could detonate with the slightest mistake. And he fought a proper battle against Aresia—who was using mana—while completely bare-handed.’
After a moment of contemplation, Poseidon made his decision.
He didn’t particularly like the feeling of being dragged along by fate, but he wasn’t heartless enough to simply abandon the child in front of him.
“Fine. I was planning to evaluate you anyway because someone asked me to. So, kid—you’re looking for a master, right?”
“You know me? I may be famous in Thebes, but I didn’t think everyone knew.”
“I didn’t know either at first. But I’ve got some stalkers who are obsessed with you.”
“??”
“Anyway—get into position. I’ll show you what you wanted to see so badly.”
Poseidon considered what to show him, then decided to display the technique he was most confident in.
Originally, only Athena and Cybele had ever been able to follow it. But if it was this child… perhaps…
“Come at me, kid.”
“Then I won’t hold back.”
Without hesitation, Alcides vanished from Poseidon’s line of sight. He immediately slipped into the mage’s blind spot and thrust his fist forward.
A nine-year-old’s strength that was hard to believe, combined with the mana utilization he had realized during his fight with Aresia, plus the techniques taught by his father Amphitryon—Alcides’s punch seemed to twist space itself as it extended.
To the jeering audience, it looked as though Alcides had teleported, and distorted fists were slowly extending from various points.
They didn’t even realize they were seeing afterimages of punches that had already passed.
A feat that should have been impossible for someone who had only just begun to grasp mana—yet Alcides manifested it purely through raw talent and physical power.
Alcides Style — Fist Strike (ver. Aresia)
Bang!
A bone-rattling vibration and sonic boom arrived belatedly. To the spectators’ eyes, it looked as though the mage had been instantly killed.
The sound and shockwave alone created the illusion that the mage’s body had exploded from the punch.
And Aresia felt the same. Seeing Alcides’s technique, she instinctively leaped from the edge of the arena into the fray.
In a split-second instant—Aresia cutting in, Alcides’s bullet-like thrust piercing forward. Her slightly delayed punch narrowly missed as his fist drove toward the mage’s body.
Or so it appeared—to the audience, it looked like an illusion.
But the mage, who had stood motionless until now, began to move.
Very slowly.
To the distant spectators, it was an utterly bizarre sight. Unlike Aresia and Alcides—whose movements had already become impossible to follow with the naked eye—the mage’s motion was perfectly visible.
In fact, it was too clear—so clear that to the audience, it looked as though the mage—whose body should have already been pierced—was simply moving while taking the punch.
It felt as though time itself was flowing differently.
Poseidon Style — After Arrival, First Strike
Pa!
A sound as light as a child clapping hands—completely unlike the heavy impact of Alcides’s fist—rang out from the mage’s casual gesture.
Under normal circumstances, the absurdity of it would have drawn mocking laughter across the arena.
But no one could even breathe.
No—instead, their faces were frozen in a mixture of terror, ecstasy, and awe. It was a silence starkly different from the overwhelming dominance Alcides had shown earlier.
Like someone beholding a great work of art, feeling their heart race without understanding why or what meaning it carried.
Within the mage’s casual gesture lay a martial truth that could only be felt with emotion.
A light motion performed in a different flow of time—like dandelion seeds drifting on the wind—effortlessly neutralized Alcides’s power.
And Aresia’s belated, panicked strike landed as gently as a butterfly settling on a blade of grass—without a sound.
“…….”
“…….”
[…….]
And then—
“So? Do you think you can reach it, kid? This may be a realm even that so-called great war goddess never achieved.”
When the mage looked down at Alcides again with an expression that said it was nothing special—
That day, Alcides found the star he would chase for the rest of his life.
***
The myth of the 9-year-old boy who had caused such an uproar in the coliseum ended in an almost anticlimactic fashion.
Yet among those who had witnessed the conclusion firsthand, not a single person felt empty or angry.
Just because the spectators’ level of power was low didn’t mean their emotions were crude.
However, to those who hadn’t seen the match with their own eyes, it was simply absurd.
—No way. No one died or even got hurt in that coliseum, and yet he admitted defeat? Even a passing dog would laugh at that.
—Yeah, there’s no way those vicious coliseum bastards would allow something like that. There must’ve been some backroom deal.
—Exactly. Word is already spreading that multiple groups are drooling over that kid. Someone must’ve made the first move.
—Huh? Which groups?
—…Let’s just say there are five fingers in particular.
Because of this, conspiracy theories began to spread—but curiously, none of the people actually present in the coliseum were quick to open their mouths.
—So you were there in person. What exactly happened that even someone like you isn’t cursing out the coliseum management?
—…Well… I saw something that can’t really be explained in words.
—Huh? What kind of nonsense is that?
—Yeah, did the coliseum bosses pay you off or something?
—It’s not… something I can put into words. I just don’t have the confidence to describe it properly.
—……
—Kekeke, you crazy bastard. Taking money and trying to sound profound.
—Yeah.
—Right on, Curtis. Well said. What could us day-to-day nobodies possibly feel!
Naturally, humans tend to reject what they cannot understand. In the taverns, those who only heard about the match made their own judgments.
The aftermath of this match was far from trivial.
Still, a few sharp-minded individuals quietly wondered why even the coliseum’s managers were keeping their mouths shut.
But that wasn’t the mainstream opinion, so it was quickly buried.
“So those wild dogs are staying silent… Interesting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Captain. We’ve already detected signs that the Five Fingers are rattled and are now gathering information, with Kryptos at the forefront.”
“Hmm… Even those filthy rats are having trouble collecting intel? Looks like an even bigger fish has entered our black market than we thought.”
“…A bigger fish?”
“Why? We’ve seen this kind before. The previous generation.”
“That’s—!”
“What? The sea has its share of absolute freaks too. It only makes sense the land would have them as well. Monsters.”
Even the coliseum managers were among the most ruthless and tenacious forces operating in the black market provided by the merfolk pirate crew.
For people like them to fall silent—there had to be a reason.
Captain Vitanasa of the merfolk pirate crew thought back to her old rivals for the first time in a long while.
***
While the entire black market was in an uproar—
Aresia stood in the hotel room facing the wall with her hands raised.
It was a scene completely at odds with the tense situation outside, yet somehow perfectly fitting for her.
“…Master, my arms are about to fall off.”
“No. I genuinely don’t know what to do with a slave who has zero awareness that she’s a slave. Are you the slave or the master here?”
“…….”
For once, Aresia had nothing to say in response to Njord’s words.
If only she hadn’t fallen for that wicked little brat’s temptation…
‘Argh! This is all that kid’s fault. I should’ve just ended it right away.’
Of course, contrary to Poseidon’s intentions, Aresia was firmly convinced that the real culprit was Alcides seducing her—not her own mistake.
Regardless—Aresia was serving her punishment. Meanwhile, Poseidon had his own concerns.
‘He really is a monstrous little brat. So this is the sprout of the great hero?’
Unlike the others who had been utterly overwhelmed in the coliseum, Alcides had never given up. In fact, the speed with which he analyzed and mimicked—even superficially—the mage’s technique had left Poseidon stunned.
When most people with talent spent their entire lives just trying to imitate the form of such a technique, the sheer absurdity of Alcides’s innate talent became painfully clear.
Perseus was in a different field, so he hadn’t learned it—but even if he had…
“I don’t think even Perseus could have picked it up this fast.”
The display Alcides had shown was simply beyond common sense.
The closest comparisons might be Athena and Cybele.
‘Exactly—it’s absurd. For a demigod with only Zeus’s blood to be comparable to gods.’
At most, Dionysus and Hermes might come close in terms of lineage—but in pure combat ability, neither could compare to Athena or Cybele. Moreover, both had uniquely special births and bloodlines.
Hermes’s mother was a nymph, and he inherited Atlas’s blood. Even among gods, atavism wasn’t impossible.
And didn’t Dionysus—despite being a demigod—get reborn from Zeus’s thigh?
The more he thought about it, the more absurd Alcides seemed as a human being. There were rumors he had drunk Hera’s breast milk, but…
Poseidon didn’t put much stock in that rumor. Hera, of all people? Among their siblings, she was the sharpest-minded and fiercest.
‘In short, Hera’s breast milk doesn’t sound very plausible. So Alcides is just an exceptionally well-bred demigod, that’s all.’
Or perhaps Perseus’s blood really was something special. Zeus himself had always been rather lackluster.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Just then, a knock interrupted Poseidon’s thoughts.
“Hm? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“I’ve come with a request. I’ve met Lady Aresia several times before. Please forgive the intrusion.”
Poseidon clicked his tongue at the voice outside the door. It felt like an annoying fly had shown up.
“…Tsk. No helping it. Aresia, looks like it’s for you. Lower your arms and open the door. It’s an uninvited guest, but since they know you, we should at least show ourselves.”
“Waaah! Thank you, Master! Yeah, it’d be rude to show a guest this kind of sight!”
With that, Aresia hurriedly went to open the hotel room door.
Watching her, Poseidon shook his head in disbelief. Hearing someone who cared not one bit about manners suddenly talk about “rudeness” was simply ridiculous.
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