[Greek Mythology] The Demons Under My Command - Chapter 51

It took some time for Li Jia and Moise to exchange information.

Getting things done requires efficiency; kicking the ball back and forth, from one person to the next, solves absolutely nothing.

With the concrete news in hand, Li Jia could finally sleep soundly.

The sandman had immediately called upon her; she was tired.

Li Jia instinctively leaned against Hera. Moise could feel the chilling, imposing pressure that had been there earlier suddenly retract.

The woman held Li Jia in her arms. The little one’s cheek rested against her chest, her nose inhaling the familiar, faint fragrance, and Li Jia peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Hera glanced at Moise out of the corner of her eye and said in a low voice, “We will come on that day. Make your decision.”

After speaking, she vanished from the inner chamber using shadow evasion.

Over the next three days, Dorin and Winslow inquired about the matter, but Hera told them to wait until the day came to find out, so they didn’t press further. The group spent a full three days having fun in the Northern Territory.

Li Jia felt this job was actually quite good. Not only could she fly all over the country, but she could also genuinely solve livelihood issues.

They were certainly better than those people who only knew how to reply “Received” and “Received” in chat groups without doing anything substantial.

The most important point was that the expenses were reimbursable. To this day, Li Jia didn’t know how much the Temple of the Marriage Goddess earned annually.

However, Winslow had revealed a small detail: Her Majesty Hera annually allocated a large portion of the incense and fire offerings she received to fund women and children.

The offerings to the Marriage Goddess came in two forms: one was monetary, which could be understood as a salary, and the other was spiritual, which could be understood as the people praising the goddess, akin to presenting a banner of commendation, while also receiving a small reward.

But ancient Greece didn’t have commendation banners; instead, it transformed into clusters of glittering small mist lamps that never dissipated.

These were the blessings and prayers of the faithful.

Generally, no one would choose the second type.

So, among the various deities, there were only incense and fire offerings. Over time, everyone forgot the second type and defaulted to only one form of offering.

Winslow suddenly remembered and mentioned it to Li Jia. Li Jia agreed, thinking it would be pure insanity if, after a long day of hard work, the boss gave you a small broken lamp.

No wonder everyone in modern society is obsessed with passing civil service exams and public employment. Initially, most people wanted to become public servants with a sincere heart to serve the people.

Modern employment is too competitive; now people only seek the stability of social insurance and a housing fund.

The youthful passion has been smoothed away by the demands of daily life.

In unfamiliar territory, Winslow spent a small amount of money hiring a local guide to take them onto the Northern Ice Fields.

The Northern Lights became the perfect backdrop. The group set up fishing rods on the glacier for ice fishing and built snow houses with pine branches and animal skins.

They fed friendly sea lions and seals, as well as wicked sea dogs. What was rare was that they actually saw a small snow bear.

Even the guide was shocked, as he had lived in the North for almost fifty years and had only seen snow bears twice; these four strangers encountered one right away.

The little snow bear didn’t hide when it saw them. Li Jia wore the name tag given to her by Linai, which carried the scent of Artemis, making animals naturally want to get close to Li Jia.

However, Hera blocked it with her arm. Only after Hera checked the snow-ball-like creature for any abnormalities did she hand over the fluffy little thing.

The little snow bear waddled over to Li Jia with its round steps, but before it could get completely close, it was intercepted by the woman.

Li Jia was slightly displeased and pouted her cheeks, demanding the little snow bear. After Hera confirmed there was nothing unusual about the fluffy creature, she handed the plump little lump to Li Jia.

Li Jia gathered the snow lump into her arms. Its eyes were round, and its body was fluffy, but it was still far less soft than Linai’s touch.

Li Jia subconsciously began to compare, still believing her good sister was superior. She took out a carrot she was carrying to feed it, but the snow lump completely refused, turning its little head away.

“It’s a bear. Bears eat fish.”

Doreen picked the biggest sea fish from the basket and placed it in front of the little snow bear. The small creature sniffed it curiously, then continued to turn its head away.

“Are you stupid? How small is it? Can it even eat that?”

Winslow used a small knife to cut the fish into fine strips and placed them near the little snow lump. The little creature immediately opened its mouth and began to chew. She put down the knife and turned to give Doreen a “you’re an idiot” look.

Dorin: …

Li Jia couldn’t help but sigh, regretting that if only they had a camera to capture such a beautiful scene.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit her, and she mentally summoned the System.

The System was currently enjoying a wonderful vacation. Li Jia, the strategist, was too worry-free. It felt like it just blacked out for a while, and every time it did, the mission had made rapid progress.

What’s this called?

How can a person (System) always be unlucky? If you’re bold enough, every day is a summer or winter break.

So, when Li Jia called it, it was getting along famously with a newcomer from the Transmigration Bureau on the beach. Seeing its precious asset summon it, it immediately connected the information without delay.

“Master, what can I do for you?”

It was extremely flattering. For such a golden goose, it had to cherish her well.

“I want a camera. I want to take a few pictures.”

Li Jia stated her request. The System hesitated. The Transmigration Bureau explicitly forbade leaving any items from the book’s world behind, as being discovered would disrupt the world’s operating order.

Even minor changes could cause a butterfly effect, leading to eternal damnation.

The System sighed and refused.

“Master, you cannot. I cannot. The Transmigration Bureau has regulations. Actually, the mission is already 90% complete. You just have to wait for the Goddess of Spring to be born, and then you can return to your original world.”

“Everything here is just the plot of a book, just a bunch of data. It’s fleeting and meaningless.”

Li Jia smiled.

“I know she and I are not from the same world. I have already changed her fate, and she will no longer be the vicious Goddess-Queen that people criticize. I am very content.”

“Then, before I leave, can you give me a souvenir, even if it’s just one photo? I won’t tell anyone, and this sentiment won’t be known by anyone else.”

The System was moved by Li Jia’s words. After much internal debate, it couldn’t bear to refuse, especially since she had helped it avoid being sent back for reformatting.

As a System, you had to be loyal; otherwise, what was the point of being out here?

It decided to secretly use some points to exchange for a camera for Li Jia, but it could only take one photo; it didn’t have the authority for more.

One photo was better than none.

“Then what would Master like to photograph? Just tell me, and I’ll take it.”

“A single photo or a double one?”

“You only have one chance, Master, so you must think carefully.”

The System held the camera, attached to Li Jia’s hair. Li Jia whispered, “I’ve decided.”

She instructed Hera to stand straight. She nestled against Hera’s chest, with Winslow on her left and Doreen on her right. They didn’t know what she was doing but obediently let her pull them close.

“Shout with me!”

The girl exclaimed loudly.

“Cheese~!”

Amidst the four “Cheeses” spoken in varying tones, a “Boom!” thundered across the sky.

The System, having violated the operating manual, was immediately struck by lightning. It returned to the beach with a bedraggled hairdo, lost all interest in flirting, and paid off the young man with a small tip.

The System lay listlessly on the beach.

But in all fairness, the photo it took was excellent!

It thought maybe a career as a photographer might be nice after retirement.

On the day of the Empress’s Memorial Ceremony, King Mel, draped in a dark monarch’s robe embroidered with a double-headed eagle, slowly walked toward the inner sacrificial temple, gripping his jeweled scepter in his left hand.

Queen Frana followed behind him, with four personal guards flanking them.

As Frana stepped on the white marble steps, her deliberately slowed pace echoed through the empty staircase, as if she were testing for something.

Passing the priests standing guard outside the hall, her peripheral vision quickly scanned the second figure from the left in the first row, dressed in rose-red. The person’s cuff moved almost imperceptibly—it was the agreed-upon signal that they were ready.

The memorial prayers were chanted from noon until dusk. The scent of incense permeated every corner of the inner temple.

When the last minister bowed and retreated, the heavy temple doors slowly closed behind them. Mel turned to look at Frana. The gemstone atop his scepter shimmered with fragmented light in the candlelight: “Before tomorrow’s morning light rises, it will be just the two of us here.”

When he turned, he didn’t see Frana’s hand hanging by her side, her nails already digging into her palm.

In the shadows behind the west corner door, Catherine was clutching the edge of a secret letter. The red markings on the defense map were already etched into her mind. From the pillars of the sacrificial temple to the dark corridors of the side hall, she knew the shift change times for every guard.

She struck a match, and the orange-red flame licked the paper. The ink curled into ash in the high temperature and was scattered into the corner by the wind.

She absolutely could not let this paper become evidence against them.

The fingertips that the fire had touched retained a burning pain, as if reminding her of the cost of this conspiracy. Yet, she only pressed her hand onto the token at her waist, her thumb rubbing the carvings.

“Guard the east and west passages as planned. When you hear the bell in the hall ring three times, immediately bring men to seal off all exits.”

Just as Catherine finished speaking, there was a faint rustling sound from the roof tiles. Dozens of black figures descended like night owls, landing with synchronized breathing.

They were entirely wrapped in airtight black armor, with only the silver wolf emblem on their chests glinting coldly in the dark.

These were the Death Warriors that Frana had cultivated for nearly a decade, owing no allegiance to the royal family and obeying no national law.

In an instant, they turned the entire sacrificial temple into an impenetrable cage.

They only answered to the token holder.

Catherine looked up toward the inner hall. Night was slowly descending, and she had all the patience in the world; this matter could not be rushed.

After the third bell rang, the candlelight shone through the window lattice onto the wall. The flickering silhouettes of two people were visible; Frana had already lit a wax oil lamp.

The wick flickered on the sacrificial board, making the cold light in Frana’s eyes clearer. Her hand holding the candle holder was rock-steady as she slowly walked toward Mel, who had his back to her.

He was leaning over, staring at the Empress’s spirit tablet on the altar. Frana couldn’t help but mock herself with a slight curl of her lips.

Was he worshipping the Empress, or the evil spirit in his heart?

“What are you thinking, Your Majesty?”

Frana’s voice was gentle, like the soft whisper between a normal couple.

“I’m thinking about how Hawthorne is doing over there.”

“I don’t know why, but that child, Moise, became ill today and left in a hurry after a quick worship.”

“But she really is looking more and more like her mother.”

When Mel turned around, he still carried some fatigue from the ceremony, but his eyes were filled with unconcealed lust.

He wanted to reclaim the Harrington family’s right to rule Stuart. He wanted to seize the throne, and he wanted to seize the woman. The flower that had been raised with great effort within the palace walls should bear her responsibility to this country.

“When Moise turns eighteen, I will marry her, but you will retain your position as Queen.”

Once Moise bore him a son, this country would belong entirely to Harrington!

His years of enduring humiliation had finally yielded the results he desired.

Before he could clearly see the unfamiliar coldness in her eyes, his pupils constricted abruptly. Frana’s arm shot up, and the copper flower holder atop the candle stand slammed violently into the back of his head!

With a dull thud, blood instantly gushed from his hair, running down his cheek and dripping onto the white silk cloth in front of the altar, staining it with patches of shocking red.

“Help! Someone! Help!”

“The Queen is mad! The Queen is mad!”

Mel’s body swayed as he cried out in terror. He stumbled backward. Before his waist-worn sword could be drawn, the temple doors were forcefully pushed open.

Catherine stood at the doorway, clutching the token. She had overheard the entire conversation between Mel and Frana. Rage burned in her chest. She finally understood why Queen Frana was so desperate and relentless!

A biological father had designs on his daughter and delusionally wanted her to marry him!

How preposterous!

How unbelievable!

It was simply an outrageous existence!

“King Consort Mel.”

Catherine’s voice carried a smile, yet it was colder than a blade. She no longer addressed him as King. The Death Warriors behind her had already surrounded him with their long knives.

“You should know that this country should no longer be ruled by the Empress’s husband.”

“You actually harbored such thoughts towards Moise? If I were the Empress, what do you think would happen to you?”

“Flaying? Or the Cannon Firing torture? Which one do you prefer?”

“But it seems neither would be satisfying enough.”

Mel’s face instantly turned ashen. He looked at Frana, his lips trembling: “You… you were colluding all along?”

Frana did not answer. Instead, she pulled a short dagger from her sleeve. The gleaming silver blade reflected her resolute face. She advanced step by step. On the white marble floor, Mel’s retreating legs scraped out a faint sound. He looked at Frana in despair and pleaded.

“We have been husband and wife for so many years! Is there no marital affection left at all?”

“Frana, it was I! I gave you the Queen’s title! You cannot! You cannot collude with outsiders to plot treason!”

“Don’t forget, you have been in the palace for many years and have not borne me a single child. It was I! I rejected the ministers’ proposals to depose you. If I die, what good fate do you think you’ll have!”

“A Queen who brings misfortune to her husband and has no heir won’t last long.”

Mel was still struggling in a desperate attempt to make Frana change her mind, anxiously analyzing the pros and cons.

“Go to hell.”

As Frana’s voice fell, the short dagger had already thrust toward Mel’s chest. He instinctively raised his hand to block. His fingertip grazed the blade, and blood instantly gushed out, dripping onto the dark monarch’s robe, adding a patch of hideous red to the double-headed eagle.

Mel groaned. He had dodged in time, avoiding a fatal wound. His body slowly slid down, finally slumping in front of the altar, his gaze fixed on Frana, as if trying to carve her face into his very bones.

“Wait!”

A girl’s voice came from outside the temple. Moise stepped through the door. She stood between Frana and Mel, separating the two of them.

“Moise, my good daughter! This madwoman is trying to kill me! Quickly bring the guards to save me! In the entire palace, only you and I share the same blood! If you spare my life, I will transfer the throne of Stuart to you tomorrow!”

Mel was nearly hysterical. He shouted Moise’s name loudly, offering her an extremely generous proposition. He didn’t believe anyone wouldn’t be tempted!

To his surprise, Moise merely knelt down, stroked his bloodied cheek, and sighed in relief: “Thank goodness I made it in time. Her Majesty Hera, please come out.”

“To put an end to this nauseating marriage.”

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