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(Fate) Chapter 227: Destiny
🕑 Added 2024-12-14 16:48:54 +0000 UTCThe thunderbolt.
If Athena’s Aegis shield was the unbreakable defense of Greek mythology, capable of withstanding anything, then the king of the gods, Zeus’ thunderbolt was its counterpart—the sharpest spear in all myth.
It was the weapon that had defeated his father, Cronus, the second-generation king of the gods.
And it was the only thing Typhon truly feared.
In fact, in one myth, in order to fight against thunder, Typhon did not hesitate to put on women's clothes to seduce Zeus, and stole the thunder while the god king was infatuated with the gentle world he created.
In that version of the story, Zeus was mercilessly defeated by Typhon after losing his weapon.
It was only with Athena’s help, retrieving the thunderbolt and returning it to Zeus, that the king of the gods was able to finally defeat Typhon.
Now, as Zeus struggled to survive against Typhon, and the dragon’s question echoed through the battlefield, Zeus, instead of panicking, burst into hearty, almost joyful laughter.
"Hahaha! I’ll tell you, Typhon—I’ve hidden it!”
Zeus shouted, his voice booming with triumph, at this moment, even the frequency of his divine power intensified, a clear sign of his elation.
"I’ve hidden it somewhere you’ll never find. I’ve entrusted it to someone, and he will retrieve the thunderbolt I left for him. Then, he will come before you and bring down the mighty Typhon!"
“And let me tell you, Typhon,” Zeus continued, laughing unabashedly, "the one destined to defeat you is someone you could never have imagined. Someone who will shake your arrogance to its core! Hahahaha!"
Zeus’ laughter reverberated across the battlefield, unbothered by the prospect of his impending defeat and imprisonment.
Typhon was silent for a moment. Then, its voice lowered, tinged with skepticism.
"Other than you, the only one worthy of your thunderbolt is that flawless goddess—Athena, the goddess of wisdom.”
"But, Zeus, have you lost your mind? Would you really entrust the thunderbolt to her?”
When Athena wields the thunderbolt in her hands and raises the Aegis shield, she actually becomes an existence which surpasses Zeus in every way.
After all, in the original strands of fate, had she been born male, she was destined to overthrow Zeus and take his place as ruler of the gods.
"Of course, I would never entrust the thunderbolt to her," Zeus interrupted Typhon and looked at him triumphantly, saying.
"I told you—it has been given to someone you could never imagine!”
"Do you even know, Typhon? That person has been waiting for you for a long time. He’s been anticipating your arrival, and now we’ve all been waiting for this moment—your grand entrance!”
"To us, Typhon, you are no longer a harbinger of destruction and calamity but the star of an incomparable, grand, and glorious performance!"
Zeus laughed loudly.
He had never laughed so freely and happily since the moment he, with the help of the first goddess of wisdom, Metis, rescued his siblings and overthrew their father, Cronus.
Just like those cursed strands of fate, Typhon had always been a thorn in Zeus’ side—a constant source of unease.
He didn’t want the domain he had built to be destroyed, nor did he want the world itself to fall into ruin.
But Zeus had long understood that in a fair confrontation, he was no match for Typhon.
This was why he had always placed his hopes on Heracles, believing the prophecy from Clotho, the goddess of fate, as though clutching at his last lifeline.
But now, everything had changed.
On that day, when Queen Hera, the god of the sea, Poseidon, and the goddess of wisdom, Athena betrayed and imprisoned him...
When that boy appeared in the sea-drowned Olympus and loosed an arrow toward the flawless goddess…
When Clotho herself appeared because of that boy, declaring the future had been rewritten...
And when Zeus, out of pure curiosity, gave the boy his painting as recognition of his potential...
From that moment on, Zeus had ceased to worry about Typhon.
Because Zeus knew someone else would defeat Typhon in his place.
And there was no doubt about the outcome.
The reason there was no suspense was simple: Zeus, like the other gods, had willingly and eagerly paved the way for the boy, carefully hiding the thunderbolt in preparation for this grand moment, a moment all had been anticipating for a long time.
This would be the final act, a masterpiece that would shock the world.
The boy’s last painting would undoubtedly be the most precious one of all.
And the gods?
They would hold nothing back.
They would offer their full power to make this moment unforgettable.
To put it bluntly, many gods didn’t care about the destruction of Olympus or even the end of the world.
Take, for example, the most typical goddess Hecate, the goddess of night Nyx, or the remnants of the first and second-generation gods who still lingered in the sky, the underworld, and the seas.
But now, having come to know Promise and having crossed paths with him, these beings were determined not to let his lifelong wish go unfulfilled.
"So, Typhon, I know you’ll defeat me," Zeus shouted.
"But it doesn’t matter, because at this point, no one who understands what’s happening cares about the outcome of our battle!”
"In fact, even if I could defeat you right now, I wouldn’t.
Because I, too, want to sit in the highest seat among the audience.”
"I’ll sit there, Typhon, and witness the grandest performance ever—its brilliant finale!”
Typhon was silent.
It had to admit that, for a moment, it was undress distracted by Zeus’ so-called “nonsense."
And deep within, Typhon couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity.
It wondered about the figure the king of the gods, Zeus spoke of—the one Typhon could never imagine.
Apollo? Poseidon? Or perhaps Hades?
No, impossible.
Not to mention the fact that they didn’t have the qualifications to face Typhon in battle.
More importantly, Zeus would never entrust the thunderbolt to them.
Typhon felt a little confused.
Aside from Athena, it truly couldn’t fathom who else Zeus might mean.
But then again, what did it matter?
"No matter what, I will change my destiny,” Typhon said coldly, its fiery gaze fixed on Zeus as it spoke indifferently.
"I imagine the three Fates will give me the answers I seek. And if such a being truly exists, I, as destruction and chaos itself, welcome his arrival.
“But for now, King of the Gods—Zeus.”
Typhon’s voice deepened, radiating an overwhelming presence.
“Your curtain falls here!”
As his words fell, its attacks on Zeus became even fiercer.
The king of gods, meanwhile, struggled to hold his ground...well not because he absolutely had to, but simply because he didn’t want to lose too quickly.
After all, this was the boy’s final painting.
If it were recorded in the painting that Zeus had been utterly crushed without even putting up a fight, it would be a disgrace to his title as King of the Gods.
The other gods would mock him relentlessly!
So...he absolutely had to fight for a while.
---
At the same time.
At the Temple of Fate, woven from the threads of all destinies in existence…
Promise found himself there once again.
“Goddess Clotho, it seems that things aren’t quite unfolding the way I knew they would,”
He spoke to the delicate and lovely goddess of fate, Clotho, in front of him as he walked, his mind replaying the scene of Phaethon driving the sun chariot, only for Typhon to seize the opportunity and cause the sun to crash into Mount Olympus.
After all, in the myths and legends Promise was familiar with, the story of Phaethon had nothing to do with Typhon or the war between the gods.
Clotho, clad in a white priestess’s robe with strands of her silver hair peeking out from beneath her hood, gave a gentle smile.
"You already know the answer in your heart, don’t you?” she replied softly.
In Greek belief, destiny was immutable and could not be changed, a truth known to all—mortals and gods alike.
Except for one person.
“Then I should’ve intervened back then and saved Phaethon, shouldn’t I?” Promise said, sounding a bit regretful.
When he saw Typhon appear and the sun, driven down, crashing into Olympus, Promise had a sinking feeling in his heart that these events were somehow connected to him.
He realized it was likely his presence that had set everything into motion.
"What are you thinking about?" The one who answered him was not the lovely Clotho, but the sickly second sister of the goddess of fate, Lachesis.
As Promise and Clotho stepped into the ancient temple of Fate, Lachesis, who had just overheard his words, came over and gave him a light flick on the forehead as she spoke.
“This is not the first time, you've comes across fate.
You’ve been dealing with fate for a while now… In fact, aside from us, you’re probably the one in this world who understands fate the best."
“This mess may be connected to you, and yes, you play a significant role in it. But even without you, it would have happened eventually. Since it has happened, just deal with it,” she said bluntly.
That’s right,
'If it’s here, I just need to solve it.'
Just let the cute goddess of fate see a beautiful feature along the way.
Promise rubbed his forehead and smiled, stepping forward to greet her. “Second Sister, it’s been a while."
"Cut it out, stay away!” Lachesis waved him off with a look of exaggerated disdain.
“You’re the one who has broken our hearts time and again and again. I don’t want to see you, and stop calling me ‘Second Sister.’ I haven’t approved of you and my little sister’s... relationship!"
“Now, now, don’t get too worked up.
You don’t want to lose control of your emotions and faint again—oh, too late.”
Before Promise could even finish, Lachesis rolled her eyes and promptly fainted as the boy instinctively caught her, holding her in his arms.
At that moment, their eldest sister, Atropos, walked over.
With her usual emotionless expression, she nodded briefly at Promise before glancing at the unconscious Lachesis.
“Leave her,” she said flatly, then turned and walked further into the temple.
Clotho, silent as ever, followed her elder sister inside.
Promise looked at them walking ahead, then glanced at the limp figure of Lachesis in his arms.
After less than a second of deliberation, he shrugged and let her fall heavily to the ground.
She is a goddess after all, so, she won’t die from it anyway..and she’s used to it.
"Wait for me, Goddess Clotho, Big Sister!” he called, hurrying after them.
Before long, Promise reached the place he was most familiar with: the ancient Hall of Fate.
Its ceiling was an intricate weave of countless shimmering threads of destiny.
"Well, Promise, are you ready?
Arriving here, the eldest sister Atropos, who was tall and slender, wearing a white robe that perfectly showed off her beautiful curves, looked at the young man expressionlessly as she said.
"Ready to face the destiny that is yours alone, the moment you’ve been waiting for all this time?”
“Of course,” Promise replied without hesitation, nodding firmly.
Atropos acknowledged his answer with a slight nod.
As if she had completed her final mission of leading the way, she set off again, ready to leave here and hand over the rest of her time to her sister and Promise.
But just as she was about to leave and passed him, she suddenly stopped, extended her hand, and lightly flicked him on the forehead—just as Lachesis had done earlier.
“This is revenge.”
In the face of the boy's somewhat surprised look, the emotionless eldest sister Atropos replied:
"Don't make my sister sad again."
The eldest sister left, and once again only Promise and Clotho remained in the hall.
Promise looked at his elder sister's back as she left, then looked at Clotho, who was standing quietly with his eyes wide open, holding a crystal ball, and couldn't help laughing.
'What a caring older sister. In this way, even if I leave, I believe Goddess Clotho will live a good life in the future.
“By the way, Goddess Clotho,” Promise began, turning his attention back to her, “did you bring me here to show me what’s coming next, to prepare me mentally for my fate?”
Clotho shook her head gently.
She could never reveal what lay ahead for Promise.
After all, Clotho had hidden everything, deceiving even the goddess of wisdom herself.
Promise’s thread of destiny had always been held tightly in Clotho’s hands, concealed within her crystal orb that blocked all perception of fate and not even Athena could glimpse it.
This led everyone to believe that this was simply the usual state of things—that the goddess of fate would watch over the boy as he defied thousands of deaths and created miracles.
Yet, this time, it was different.
This time, it was destiny itself.
Though… there was one insignificant, barely noticeable flaw
