Antiope had arrived much earlier than they had. She was already alone on the field, spear in hand, her movements sharp and precise. When she saw Thea trailing behind Diana, she showed no surprise—clearly Diana had told her in advance.
"Thea, come train with us!" Antiope's voice was clear and commanding, no nonsense, no hesitation—every word hit with the force of a thrown spear.
I just came to watch… Thea thought helplessly as the older woman tossed her a short sword. She'd wanted to refuse, but Antiope hadn't even given her a chance to open her mouth.
Still, Thea didn't dislike her. Antiope's direct, upright temperament reminded her of Lady Shiva—people who lived and breathed battle, pure and straightforward. Compared to Hippolyta's veiled smiles and those scheming priestesses, this woman was infinitely easier to respect.
"All right, fine. How do we start?" Thea twirled the sword experimentally. Amazon swords were shorter than the standard one-handed blades she knew, but heavier—denser. A normal human would've found them clumsy, but Thea's semi-divine strength handled it with ease.
Antiope smiled, eyes fierce. "Three-way spar. All at once!"
That was so unexpected it somehow made perfect sense coming from her.
Diana, already starting to show the shadow of her future self, grabbed a sword and shield from the rack—nothing enchanted, just solid steel—and stepped calmly into the circle.
Antiope kept her spear, her hawk-like eyes flicking between their feet, their shoulders, watching, waiting for an opening.
Seeing neither of them wanted to strike first, Thea sighed, spun the short sword in her hand, and said lightly, "Then I'll start!" She lunged, blade slicing toward Antiope's neck.
"Good speed!" Antiope praised, parrying with the haft of her spear before spinning away from Diana's quick advance.
With three fighters in the circle, there was no room for hesitation. Thea's deflected blade twisted midair and stabbed toward Diana, who raised her shield in time. The impact rang out, and Thea followed through with a snap kick to Diana's midsection—only to have to duck under Antiope's thrusting spear.
The rhythm built fast. Each had her own edge: Antiope, with decades—centuries—of experience, her technique honed to near perfection. Diana, blessed by birth, pure instinct and natural grace compensating for lack of training. And Thea—Thea carried the sum of millennia of human combat evolution.
Antiope embodied depth.
Diana represented purity.
Thea showcased breadth.
After ten minutes, all three had gauged one another. Diana and her aunt were both impressed—no matter how they shifted, Thea adapted instantly, dismantling their attacks with fluid counters. If it weren't for the three-way setup, either of them would've already lost in a straight duel.
Human martial heritage wasn't to be underestimated. It wasn't about raw power but accumulated knowledge—thousands of years of refinement by countless masters. Overcoming that alone was no easy feat, even for demi-gods.
Eventually, the match evolved into a two-on-one—Diana and Antiope versus Thea. And that was when Thea began to falter. The weapons were unfamiliar, and Diana's defensive style was particularly troublesome for her.
Antiope noticed her disadvantage and quickly stepped back, lowering her spear. "You two—continue."
Now one-on-one, Thea's true strength exploded. Her strikes were unpredictable, almost chaotic but brutally effective. She hacked and spun, pressing Diana back step by step. The young Amazon's shield rang like a drum, barely keeping up.
Thea grinned through sweat. This girl's a natural tank. Her defense stats must be maxed out already.
She switched styles seven times in a row—Japanese kenjutsu, Persian assassination forms, European longsword technique, Chinese saber movements. Every system she'd ever studied flowed through her hands, modern and ancient alike. Yet she still couldn't break Diana's guard.
"Enough. I'm done." Thea exhaled hard and dropped her nicked sword. Any more would just be burning energy—and she hadn't even eaten breakfast.
Diana, flushed with excitement, lifted her shield to inspect it. It was a mess of cross-hatched scratches. "Your moves were amazing! Did you come up with them yourself?"
"How could I? They're the result of humanity's collective wisdom—thousands of years of refinement." Even Thea's shamelessness couldn't stretch far enough to claim authorship.
"Then why don't books ever mention these?" Diana asked, genuinely puzzled.
Thea pinched the bridge of her nose. Because if they did, society would collapse. But she couldn't say that—any answer would just lead to a dozen more questions from this endlessly curious Amazon.
They moved on to a teaching session. Antiope coached Diana, while Thea observed.
It didn't take long for Thea to notice the problem: the two had completely different philosophies. Antiope preached offense—strike first, strike decisively. Diana, on the other hand, was born to defend. Her heart leaned toward protection, and that instinct showed in her technique—too much caution, not enough aggression. The mismatch made the lesson awkward and halting.
By noon, they finally called it a day. Antiope's expression was the perfect picture of teacher's disappointment. Diana dragged Thea off toward the mess hall.
"Here, eat this," Diana said brightly, placing a bowl of something thick and beige in front of her.
Thea stared. "...What is that?"
"Our staple meal," Diana said cheerfully. "We've eaten it for centuries. Filling, nutritious, and tastes fine!"
Thea stirred it with a spoon. It looked like soggy plaster and smelled worse. Calling it pig slop would've been generous. She leaned closer and muttered, "When we get off this island, I'm taking you out for a real meal."
Diana's eyes widened. She glanced around, whispering back, "Mother would never let me leave."
"Don't worry—" Thea stopped mid-sentence. No, you're right. She could probably snatch Diana and skate them both off the island, but without her divine gear, the girl would be vulnerable. Best to wait until Steve Trevor and his little German invasion forced fate's hand.
Swallowing that thought—and the first spoonful of sludge—Thea nearly gagged. Ugh! No wonder Steve couldn't wait to leave this place!
Annoyed, she flicked open Horus's Eye, scanning the entire cafeteria just to check whether this culinary abomination was standard or some punishment. Unfortunately, everyone was eating the same thing. No conspiracy—just bad cooking.
Still, the glow of the Eye didn't go unnoticed.
"Divine sight…" Diana whispered, eyes wide. "You are a child of the gods!"
Her face flushed with excitement and anger, misunderstanding completely. "Why didn't you tell me? Is it because they discriminate against you too?!"
Thea froze mid-spoonful, utterly speechless.