"You really didn't have to step in…"
Hippolyta glanced at the curse spreading across Samael's chest, a grotesque, writhing force that clashed against his vitality. Her fingertip brushed lightly over it as she let out a subdued sigh.
"You think I wanted to? Angra Mainyu's gone mad. Persia's already been devastated, there aren't many people left. What remained were the Roman legions and the Amazon warriors. If I hadn't stepped in, you'd all be dead."
The Ancient Serpent pulled his clothes back into place, rolling his eyes as he spoke in exasperation.
"Next time, don't rush so far ahead. If I needed to retreat, I'd have to drag you along with me. Back then I couldn't even reach you…"
Hippolyta caught the concern hidden beneath the teasing and paused for a moment before quietly nodding.
After easing his old acquaintance's lingering guilt, Samael lowered his gaze to the chaotic red-and-black curse marks across his chest. His brows knit together, then slowly relaxed.
Angra Mainyu carried a curse that lashed back at whoever struck him. The price of killing him was bearing that divine curse.
There was no other option. Either he took it himself, or he abandoned everything and let the Roman legions and the Amazons be wiped out.
The Roman legions were one thing, but the Amazons had come from afar to support him out of respect. There was no way he could just sacrifice them.
And from Angra Mainyu's behavior, he had intended to unleash a full-scale massacre on the spot.
This was Roman territory. Even if he had been ruthless enough to sacrifice both the Roman legions and the Amazons, there was no guarantee it would drive Angra Mainyu away.
Sooner or later, they would still have to face that mad god.
In the end, whether he backed down or pressed forward, the blade would fall all the same.
Cyrus had already been crippled and forced to flee. The rest of the burden would fall on him regardless.
So even knowing the cost, Samael still thrust out that spear without hesitation.
"Back to the point…"
The Ancient Serpent gathered his thoughts, his gaze turning deep as he picked up a small stone and tapped the rough map of Rome's situation sketched on the ground.
"Right now, the Persian Empire is in retreat. Cyrus is half-crippled and no longer capable of fighting. The Hun wolf cavalry has been halted, Altera is wounded, and they've been blocked outside the Seventh Province. That means the pressure on Rome from both east and west has been temporarily lifted. The deadlock is broken. The first move has been made."
Hearing this, Hippolyta steadied her thoughts. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though she was once again looking at that peerless strategist from the war of the giants.
"But Rome was already at a disadvantage. I've pushed every piece as far as it can go. What we've achieved is only a fragile balance. One step back, and it becomes a dead end.
"Now that we finally have this rare window, we can make our second move."
Samael picked up the cloak that had slipped down to his waist and handed it to Hippolyta, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"Your Majesty, it's our turn. Care to take a trip with me?"
"No problem. Where are we going?"
Hippolyta paused briefly, then accepted the cloak, pressing her fist to her chest as she nodded. The tension in her expression eased slightly, as if something long delayed was finally moving forward.
This journey had been overdue for a long time.
Samael's eyes sharpened, his expression turning cold as his fingertip traced across the crude map before stopping at a specific point.
"Next stop. Mesopotamia. The Persian Empire."
Seeing the Amazon Queen's stunned expression, a mischievous smile crept across the Ancient Serpent's face.
...
Meanwhile, inside a secluded hut among the Celtic tribes.
"Cough… cough…"
Skadi had barely set down the snake scale when a violent cough overtook her, a trace of blood slipping from the corner of her lips.
"Don't move. You need proper rest."
A gentle voice spoke as Boudica, seated at the foot of the bed, stepped forward to support the Goddess of Winter, helping her lean back against the headboard.
"It seems the eastern front didn't have an easy victory either. He's injured, and it's serious…"
"Hm?"
"That man is far more calculating than he looks. He's not the type to boast. The more he emphasizes how well things went, the worse the actual situation probably is."
"You two really are in sync…"
A faint smile flickered in Boudica's eyes, tinged with a hint of sentiment.
"In sync? Wouldn't that just be experience from raising a pet?"
Skadi blinked, answering casually.
The Celtic Queen, speaking from experience, looked at the utterly matter-of-fact Goddess of Winter, closed her eyes, and pressed a hand to her forehead, the corner of her mouth twitching.
Just as Boudica hesitated over whether to point it out, Skadi paused in thought and spoke.
"That Hun girl forced her way out of my divine prison, and she's badly hurt as well. I plan to use this time to build an altar in your tribe and establish a gateway to the Land of Shadows."
"You're planning to return to the Land of Shadows?"
"No. In a while, I'm going to make a trip to Greece. Just in case, I need to leave a spatial marker here first…"
The Goddess of Winter glanced at the snake scale on the table. Something flickered in her eyes, and a faint ripple disturbed those calm violet pupils.
"No problem. I'll start making arrangements right away."
A smile bloomed on Boudica's face. As she turned her head, thoughts of a certain Valkyrie in the City of Seven Hills and the Rose Emperor surfaced in her mind, and her eyes took on a trace of teasing amusement.
So a pet was something cherished by a goddess? Cherished enough that she could ignore her own injuries for him, and even let him climb into her bed…
Old friend, you really are a deeply sinful man. Better watch out. Your wife-sama may be coming to check up on you very soon…
...
A few days later, in a small Persian town, inside an old inn.
As noon approached, the number of guests coming and going gradually increased, and the chatter downstairs grew louder and louder.
"Did you hear? The sandstorm's stopped. Why don't we take advantage of it before word spreads, gather a caravan and some men, bring a few scarce goods, and make a fortune?"
"Heh, idiot. If making money were really that easy, the merchant caravans would already be on their way. Why would it be your turn, an amateur?"
"What do you mean by that, brother?"
"Haven't you noticed there are more outsiders in town now, people fleeing in from the border?"
"That is strange. If the sandstorm's gone, why are people from the border still running inland?"
"Because now that the sandstorm isn't covering things up, the trouble's even worse! Quite a few monsters from the Wasteland of Death have been roaming out lately and stirring up chaos along the border. If you want to die, go ahead, but don't say I didn't warn you. Those things eat people!"
"Uh, forget it, forget it. No point making money if I'm dead before I can spend it."
"Good. And even if those man-eating fiends and the great sandstorm were gone, do you really think the ruins left by the divine war are easy to cross? Haven't you seen how many top-tier caravans have already been wiped out in there?"
"And that's not all! Don't forget Rome and Persia just fought a war. Who knows if anyone trying to cross over will be seized as a spy and beheaded?"
...
As one rebuttal followed another, those passersby who had been tempted by the thought of trade quickly abandoned the dangerous idea.
"Innkeeper, one room. And prepare two meals to be sent upstairs. We just escaped from the border and need to rest."
Amid the inn's usual noisy bustle, a young married couple stepped up to the counter, both wearing headscarves and long outer robes, asking for a room.
As they went upstairs, the husband seemed to be injured or unwell. He needed his wife's support just to make it up a few steps.
Tsk. That skin, that figure. What a waste...
The idlers eating downstairs glanced at the wife, taking in her graceful figure and fair skin. A flicker of lust rose and vanished just as quickly, and soon their attention returned to the strange tales of the land scarred by divine war.