[Greek Mythology] The Demons Under My Command - Chapter 47

The wind of the Northern Territory, carrying  (sleet/shattered snow), buffeted the city walls, letting out a soft, mournful moan. From afar, the entire Snow Fortress looked as if it had been sprinkled with crushed diamonds. Everything, from the icicles on the city gates to the snow piled on the fortress roof, gleamed with a cold luster in the faint light of the polar day.

Li Jia and Winslow lay on the edge of the Peacock Chariot, observing the Northern Territory’s landscape. Hera had Dorian raise the chariot’s side panels, leaving two viewing windows for them.

Li Jia couldn’t help but sigh, “The Northern Territory really is nothing but ice and snow everywhere.”

“You lived in the Northern Territory for a few years, why do you look like you’ve never been here before?” Winslow teased.

“That was when I was very little,” Li Jia replied (in her previous life, she had transmigrated to the world and woke up in Olite).

“Actually, I’m from the Northern Territory too, but I injured my head previously. Dorian told me we were orphans at the monastery, relying on each other, and only came to the Hot Spring Stream after meeting the God Lord.”

Winslow looked at the snowy scenery, her thoughts unclear, and said glumly, “I’m curious too, what kind of life did I live in the Northern Territory before?”

Li Jia empathized with Winslow’s confusion. To be a participant in an event, with others knowing your involvement, yet having no personal recollection of it, can bring about a strange sense of anger.

“Didn’t Dorian ever tell you about your time in the Northern Territory?” Li Jia asked, patting Winslow’s shoulder.

Winslow shook her head: “I asked, but she refused to say. Maybe those days were too hard, and she doesn’t want to recall them. If that’s the case, I don’t need to know either.”

“I’ve lived for too long, for thousands of years. The residents of the Northern Territory have long since changed countless times. There’s no need to delve too deeply,” she said, taking a deep breath of the cold air. “What we have now is the best. Why worry so much?”

Li Jia nodded. Live in the present. The more one knows, the more painful it can be.

She mused on her own experience: originally an overworked office worker, she died and came to this different world, gained a System, and finally lived as herself. Lying in the hospital, medical equipment plugged into her body, she had smiled in her final conscious moment—she was finally free.

She no longer had to worry about food and warmth, her frail body, frequent and tumultuous moving, getting laid off at thirty, or how to manage retirement if she was lucky enough to live to sixty.

She was completely and utterly free.

Ordinary people are so oppressed that they can only truly live for themselves when their life is nearing its end. This world has long been terminally ill; a student’s first reaction upon learning they were sick was not concern for their health, but joy that they could finally take a break.

A person only truly owns the present when they have completely lost their future.

The Northern Territory is, as the name suggests, in the far north of the continent. Perennially snow-covered, coldness is the fundamental characteristic of this land.

In the Peacock Chariot, Li Jia grew tired of the scenery and asked Hera for the Fate Petition to examine. Dealing with a case requires reviewing the file first—that’s the procedure.

Hera handed her the petition. The whole world outside was a blanket of white; even at night, it needed no lamps, bright and beautiful in its whiteness. The world is full of wonders.

The petitioner for this Fate Petition was: Moise Chesko.

She is the Crown Princess of Stuart in the Northern Territory, and the sole direct descendant. Her mother was the Grand Princess of Stuart. The old King, having no sons, passed the throne to his only daughter.

The Grand Princess married a Prince Consort, Merle. After giving birth to Moise, she died of a fever, causing national mourning. The Prince Consort, using the pretext of the Princess being too young, served as regent of the Northern Territory for decades.

During this time, citing the need for someone to personally care for the Princess, he married the Grand Princess’s childhood friend, Fran  making her Moise’s stepmother.

This time, Moise wants to dissolve the Fate Petition (marriage) between Fran and Merle.

Hundreds of years ago, before the Northern Territory was enlightened, women were treated as slaves and servants, forbidden from attending school or engaging in commerce. They were forced to marry at eighteen, lest they be mocked as old spinsters, bringing shame to their families.

One day, a beam of red light descended, and the divine bestowed a blessing. The Northern Territory underwent a major reform: women should enjoy the right to education just like men. Iron rules were established: guardians who did not send their female children to school would be jailed. Every newborn was registered annually to ensure every child could attend school. Tuition and fees were completely free, though no one knew where the money came from.

Due to the divine pressure, all dissenters were suppressed. Over the next two hundred years, the reform progressed smoothly. The old King established his sole daughter as the Empress, and not one person in the Cabinet dared to object.

This was because the ratio of female to male judicial leaders in Stuart was 1:1. If a male leader dared to object, the female leaders would roar more powerfully than he would.

The highest-ranking military officer in the Stuart army is a fiercely decisive female admiral: Catherine Saint Lanfina . To hear Catherine’s name in the Northern Territory only evokes fear and trembling. She has led campaigns for many years, yet is only twenty-six years old. Compared to the petty figures who prefer to hide in the shadows, the people of the Northern Territory are more devoted to this iron lady of decisive action.

After reading the petition, Li Jia said: “It’s quite rare for a stepdaughter to propose the dissolution of her stepmother and father’s Fate Petition.”

Li Jia’s reaction was understandable. It seems that in every world and every era, stepmothers, stepfathers, stepchildren, and even mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationships are subjects of complaint. The common worldly conclusion is: women are natural enemies. The men, meanwhile, become Teflon-coated. Laughable.

Direct blood relatives or nominal kin and friends can propose a Fate Petition.

Li Jia asked again: “The divorce of the parents shouldn’t concern the child. If the Stepmother and the King don’t want to dissolve the petition, isn’t this all for naught?”

“There are reasons, which is why we’ve come to take a look.”

Upon reaching their destination, Hera held her hand as they stepped out of the Peacock Chariot.

The castle was close. The city walls were constructed from the Northern Territory’s unique ice-rock, which hadn’t faded an inch after enduring centuries of wind and frost. From afar, it resembled an ice dragon dormant on the snow plain.

The words “Northern Territory” suspended above the castle were formed by pouring molten ice crystals and allowing them to solidify. Tiny ice flowers still clung to the strokes. When the wind blew, fine ice shavings fluttered down, refracting seven colors of light in the air.

The group approached the city gate. The gate was strictly guarded, with a small sign posted nearby. Li Jia walked over, read it, and recited:

“Trespassers of the Northern Territory.” “Shall only cease upon death in battle.”

What a domineering motto!

Li Jia always felt that this kind of plaque represented the main attitude of a country or city, like a local tourism slogan. It makes a place instantly memorable.

“This was written by Admiral Catherine,” a nearby guard said proudly when he saw Li Jia standing absent-mindedly by the plaque.

The group, concealing their appearances and figures, smoothly entered the city. The streets inside were paved with compacted snow, which made a soft “crunching” sound when stepped on, like the earth’s low whisper.

Due to the geographical location, the houses on both sides were mostly wooden, with pointed roofs covered in thick snow, looking like fluffy snow mushrooms from a distance.

The market was the liveliest part of Stuart Fortress. Vendors, wrapped in thick animal fur coats, were calling out at their stalls. Frozen meat jerky hung on racks, covered with a layer of white frost.

“Care for a hot wheat cake first?”

Winslow tugged at Li Jia’s sleeve, pointing to a small stall on the corner.

The freshly baked hot wheat cakes smelled fragrant. Hot meat soup in coarse earthenware bowls gave off white steam, which quickly condensed into tiny water droplets in the cold air, clinging to the customers’ eyelashes.

Children in snow boots ran through the snow, holding small animals carved from ice, their laughter as clear as falling ice beads.

Li Jia and Winslow ran to the stall and bought a string of bing tanghulu (candied haws), each taking a bite. The sourness of the hawthorn blended with the sweetness of the rock sugar, mixing in their mouths, dispelling much of the coldness in their chests.

“Delicious!”

Winslow mumbled, pulling out a few silver coins and dropping them into the vendor’s hand. Li Jia took two more strings and turned to hand them out at the street corner.

Hera was standing in the snow, her skirt hem dusted with snow, but when she saw the tanghulu, her eyes softened into a smile.

Dorian accepted hers expressionlessly. Her fingertip touched the sugar shell, and she gently breathed out a puff of white air, murmuring a quiet “Thank you.”

Hera and Dorian travel to different places to handle official business; Winslow and Li Jia are essentially their travel companions.

Still, Li Jia was genuinely curious how Hera would approach this Fate Petition. The initiator was the stepdaughter, and neither the stepmother nor the biological father had spoken up. If their feelings were still good, wouldn’t this be breaking up a happy couple?

“Are we about to have the first Fate Petition that our Temple of Marriage Gods can’t dissolve?” Li Jia chewed on her tanghulu until she hit the hard pit in the middle, which hurt her tooth, so she decided not to finish it and handed it to the side.

Hera took the remaining half-string and took two bites.

“That’s unlikely. If one party had absolutely no intention of dissolving the bond, the petition couldn’t be formed and submitted to Her Majesty,” Dorian explained.

Li Jia realized she was right. If anyone could initiate it, and the couple were completely unaware, that would be chaos, and the workload would be enormous.

Therefore, proposing a Fate Petition must have a hidden requirement: at least one party must have a desire to dissolve the bond, even if it’s just 0.01%.

But love is something that cannot withstand even the slightest rift. Once that thought takes root, the crack will slowly widen.

Li Jia wiped her mouth: “So, where do we start? Do we go straight to the stepdaughter or the couple?”

Winslow said confidently, “Since Her Majesty brought us along, she must already have a way to judge the situation. We’re just here as an escort; as long as we have fun, it’s fine.”

Li Jia had accompanied Hera on official matters before and knew that Winslow was speaking the truth. It’s like a group raid: the two main damage dealers do the heavy lifting, and she and Winslow just follow along to pick off the stragglers—easy and fun.

From the masses, to the masses.

To understand the truth of a matter, you must never just listen to others; you must see for yourself. This is what Li Jia had learned from Hera. Those in high positions should experience things firsthand.

“Your Majesty, don’t you get tired?”

Li Jia asked, looking at the side of the woman’s face. As a goddess, Hera didn’t need to labor and travel, yet she was willing to go back and forth across the world, seeking justice for women and children. She could have simply recruited many disciples and assigned these tasks to them.

Hera’s gaze fell on a woman not far away who was hugging a child and warming herself by the meat soup stall. Hearing the question, she gently shook her head, her voice gentle but firm: “They believe in me, so I must do something for them.”

The wind blew over the snow on the roof again, and the soft “crunching” sound returned. This time, it seemed to be echoing her words.

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