I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

For all the strength of the warriors Hera had named, none could ignore the force of Apollo's declaration. He was, after all, one of the Twelve Olympians—and aside from Zeus himself, many considered him the strongest among them.

The tension in the hall of the gods was palpable as Apollo's serious face turned toward Hera. The air felt thick, the divine energy swirling between them, and for a brief moment, the other gods found themselves holding their breath. Even the mighty Ares, who usually thrived in such intensity, glanced sideways.

Aphrodite, seated not far from Apollo, allowed a subtle smile to curve on her lips. She was not the strongest among the gods, not by a long shot, but if Apollo, with his immense power and influence, was taking Troy's side, she could breathe easier. His involvement meant more than just a show of support; it was a declaration of divine protection over Troy.

And she knew well that if Apollo sided with Troy, his twin sister, Artemis, would not be far behind. Artemis harbored no love for Hera, and this would only fuel her desire to oppose the queen of the gods.

The thought of having both Apollo and Artemis on her side bolstered Aphrodite's confidence. She cast a sideways glance at Hera, her expression filled with silent amusement. The queen of the gods was furious, that much was clear. Hera's cold glare burned in Apollo's direction, and the entire hall seemed to tense in response.

At the head of the table, Zeus let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off the headache that was building. The last thing he wanted was to witness his children and wives turning against one another, embroiling themselves in the affairs of mortals. He could already feel the tension creeping through his bones, the kind of tension that only brewed trouble on Olympus.

Finally, Zeus raised his hand. His deep voice, filled with authority, cut through the rising chaos.

"Silence."

The single word resonated like a divine command, and the hall immediately fell quiet. Every god, from Ares to Athena, turned their attention to him, the King of Olympus.

"I will not take sides, and neither should any of you," Zeus declared. "This is a war between mortals, and it is for them to settle. Fate will decide the outcome of their conflict, not us."

Zeus, as king, had spoken, and in the natural order of things, his decree was law. But the gods were not known for being compliant, not when their emotions and desires were involved. The king knew well that if the gods were to meddle in the war, the consequences would be catastrophic, not just for the humans but for the entire world.

Divine intervention would throw the mortal realm into chaos, and Zeus, despite all his power, knew that some battles were better left untouched by gods.

Yet, as soon as he had finished speaking, Hera's fury boiled over. Her eyes, blazing with indignation, locked onto her husband. She could not believe what she was hearing.

"What?!" she spat, her voice rising with unchecked rage. "You expect us to stand by while our people—your people—are at war? The Achaeans worship us! They pray to us, sacrifice to us, to you! And you would have us do nothing?!"

Zeus met her furious gaze with his usual calm, but there was a warning in his voice as he responded. "The Trojans, too, are our people, Hera. Do not let your hatred of one man cloud your judgment."

But Hera was beyond reason. His words fell on deaf ears, and the anger she harbored toward Paris—toward the insult he had dealt her—burned too hot to be extinguished by logic or fairness. Hera gnashed her teeth, her fists clenched at her sides as she seethed.

Never.

She would never allow Paris to live in peace after the insult he had delivered to her by choosing Aphrodite over her. The humiliation was too great, and Hera was not one to forgive or forget easily. Her divine pride had been wounded, and now, the entire city of Troy would pay the price for Paris' insolence.

"Let them deal with the consequences of their choices," Zeus added, his voice quieter now, but there was an unmistakable finality in his tone. Yet, even as he spoke, he could see the resolve in Hera's eyes. She would not rest until Paris had been crushed beneath her heel, and the walls of Troy had fallen. No matter his command, Hera had already made up her mind.

Hera's smirk spread slowly across her face, her confidence barely contained as she leaned back in her seat, her eyes flickering with a sense of triumph. "Whatever," she said dismissively, waving a hand as if to brush aside any further argument. "In any case, we'll be winning. I've already sent word to the Divine Knights. They'll be joining the war on the side of the Greeks, alongside Khione's Heroes."

Her words caused a ripple of surprise through the room. Zeus' brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Hera closely. "You did that?" he asked, his tone laced with a quiet but unmistakable warning.

Hera, however, paid no mind to his questioning gaze. She wasn't directly disobeying his command not to attack Paris, not really. She wouldn't lift a finger against the man herself—but reinforcing the Greeks with the Divine Knights was another matter entirely. If the gods wouldn't intervene openly, Hera had no qualms about giving the mortals a divine edge. She had her ways.

"Khione isn't here to object, is she?" Hera said with a cool, knowing smile. "I'll take her place for now. It's only fitting."

Across the table, Aphrodite's lips curled into a saccharine smile, though her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Poor Khione," she cooed, tilting her head as if in sympathy. "I do hope she's alright, wherever she is. Although, should she return, I'm sure Poseidon will be ready to swallow her whole."

Zeus's expression darkened as his gaze swept across the room, searching for a face that wasn't there—Poseidon's. The absence of the sea god had been gnawing at him, ever since Khione's disappearance. Poseidon had been scouring the oceans like a madman, searching every corner of the world for her, but so far, his efforts had yielded nothing.

Zeus himself had no idea what had become of Khione, though a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was at play.

But at this moment, he didn't have time to unravel that particular mystery. His focus was on preventing the gods from tearing the world apart in their own petty squabbles.

Zeus opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, another voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"By the way, did you all hear?" The voice was smooth, almost playful, but there was an underlying malice to it, a darkness that made even the gods shift uncomfortably. "I heard Amaterasu has made peace with Tenebria. Quite the sudden change, don't you think?"

The room turned its attention to the speaker, a figure who had been mostly silent up until now. Dionysus, the god of wine and revelry, sat with a small smile playing on his lips, his long white hair cascading over his shoulders and his brown eyes glinting with mischief. He was always one to stir trouble, to fan the flames of chaos just to see what would happen.

"I wonder what's behind that sudden shift in policy?" Dionysus continued, his tone almost conspiratorial as he glanced around the room. "Doesn't it make you all a little… curious?"

Zeus shot him a stern look. "We don't have time for your games, Dionysus. Amaterasu isn't one of us, and her affairs don't concern Olympus."

Amaterasu, the sun goddess of the Japanese pantheon, was a figure of immense power and influence, but she belonged to another realm entirely. The gods of Olympus typically avoided meddling in the affairs of other pantheons, for the sake of maintaining balance between their worlds.

Interference in another pantheon's matters could provoke conflict on a scale that even the gods would struggle to contain.

But as Zeus's words echoed through the hall, Hera's eyes darkened, her expression sharpening into a deep frown. Something didn't sit right with her. Khione's sudden disappearance, Aphrodite's subtle provocations, and now this news about Amaterasu making peace with Tenebria—it was too much to ignore.

A series of seemingly unrelated events were converging, and Hera couldn't help but feel that there was a hidden connection.

Her gaze flickered to Aphrodite, who remained serene, almost unnervingly so. There was something in the love goddess's calm, in the way she spoke of Khione and Poseidon, that set Hera's suspicions alight.

And then there was the Hero of Darkness...

She was certain everything was connected with him.

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