But they couldn't just say that outright.
If they directly announced Thea as the winner, the black brute would be completely finished—no need for a third round at all.
So the three priestesses racked their brains, desperately trying to come up with a pretext.
"How about we say she killed too many creatures and disqualify her?"
"Are you brain-damaged? We don't have any 'no excessive killing' rule in our doctrine…"
"Then we say she exceeded the allowed number of arrows?"
"...Do we even have a rule about arrow limits?"
The three of them thought and thought, but couldn't find a single loophole in the scriptures they could use.
On top of that, their "professional skills" were pretty rusty. A lot of the nitpicky doctrinal clauses, they themselves weren't sure whether the goddess had actually said them—
or whether they'd just made them up over the centuries.
And to make it worse, many of the warriors present used to be priestesses too, before Hippolyta "reassigned" them into the combat division.
Their familiarity with doctrine might not be any worse than these three.
If the priestesses tried to bullshit something on the spot and got caught, not only would their power struggle fail, they might lose their current positions too.
They'd been comfortably retired in this temple for five thousand years. The last thing they wanted was to be demoted to front-line fighters.
In the end, the eldest priestess made up her mind.
She leaned over to the one who'd docked Thea's breakfast and whispered in her ear.
The more that one listened, the more stunned she looked. In the end, her face twisted.
"Is… is that really going to work…?"
The elder priestess nodded firmly.
So the "bad priestess" took a deep breath, as if she were carrying a thousand pounds on her shoulders, walked to the front, cleared her throat, and loudly announced:
"Artemis has bestowed a divine oracle!
The goddess wishes to see a more spectacular contest, so this round shall be declared… a draw!"
This was the "no other choice" solution they'd come up with.
Anyway, the goddess wasn't exactly in a position to argue.
They held the right to speak in her name.
If they said there was an oracle, then there was an oracle.
What? You didn't receive it?
Clearly you're just not devout enough.
Sure enough, the moment she avoided mentioning who won or lost, and just dumped everything onto the goddess, the square exploded into noise.
Thankfully, these were still "civilized" Amazons—
no one started throwing rocks at her.
The priestess who'd delivered the "shocking revelation" secretly let out a breath of relief.
No one dared outright revolt.
But the muttering was inevitable.
"...A 'divine oracle'? Did you see anything? I didn't see anything…"
"Their faces are disgusting. This is all about wrestling power from our beloved queen… sigh."
"They couldn't at least acknowledge Artemis's performance? Or the outsider's?
Both of them fought hard, and they just pretend it doesn't matter?"
Themyscira actually had a surprisingly strong "democratic vibe."
The Amazons weren't just brainless muscle-heads—
after living for so many centuries, most of them had a pretty clear sense of right and wrong.
Whether they supported Thea or Artemis, they were all very displeased at this blatant "blame it on the goddess" maneuver.
As the political leader of her faction, Hippolyta naturally heard all these comments.
She covered her mouth and acted as though she were shocked by this sudden oracle—
but inside, she was practically laughing.
Joy tugged at the corners of her lips, which she sternly pressed down, continuing to maintain a look of dignified surprise.
Diana, with her fiery temper, was absolutely furious.
Partly it was outrage for her friend's sake,
but even more, she saw this as blasphemy.
If anyone on this island had the right to speak about "divine presence," it was her, a demigoddess.
And she'd seen nothing.
No light, no visions, no ripples of power.
Other than the divine energy on herself and Thea, there wasn't a single trace of supernatural influence.
These three old women were obviously using the goddess's name as a shield.
It was an insult to Artemis—
completely unforgivable.
Thea had no idea why Diana suddenly got so worked up.
She thought Diana wanted to stand up for her and was deeply moved.
She quickly grabbed her, afraid Diana would just charge forward and behead the three old bats on the spot.
Once the grumbling died down a bit, the bad priestess very respectfully turned to Hippolyta to ask whether the queen had any objections.
Of course Hippolyta had none.
The more they pulled stunts like this, the faster their prestige would crumble.
Even Artemis herself was looking unhappy—she clearly felt she'd been treated unfairly, that her honor had been tainted.
If they pulled something like this again, Hippolyta might end up ruling Themyscira with absolute authority.
She put on a solemn face and nodded.
"If this is the will of the goddess, then let this be declared an oracle."
She was just about to declare the gathering dismissed when Thea—who'd been dragged into this absurd competition out of nowhere—finally raised her voice.
"Wait. I have a question."
Of course she did.
If she didn't have a question at this point, that would be strange.
The bad priestess even thought to herself that if she were in Thea's position, she would've started swinging already.
This outsider had real self-control.
Not just the priestess—
all the Amazons present turned to listen.
Some troublemakers were even secretly cheering Thea on in their hearts:
Come on, give it to them!
If you start it, I'll jump in and kick them twice too…
"The oracle you mentioned just now," Thea said loudly, "you're sure it actually came?"
In front of everyone, the bad priestess didn't have quite enough shamelessness to take her words back on the spot.
She nodded stiffly. "Yes."
"And the oracle said the goddess wished to see a more spectacular contest?"
That much was also true—
she herself had just proclaimed it a moment ago.
So she nodded again.
Thea's lips curved into the gentlest, most harmless smile.
"In that case," she said sweetly,
"since we've already caught the attention of the gods, it would be rude to make them wait.
I propose… we proceed with the third round immediately."
"Whoooa—"
A wave of strange noises rippled through the crowd.
"…I mean, it kinda makes sense…"
"Yeah… there's nothing wrong with that logic. We should start right away."
Thea's counterattack smashed straight through the priestesses' careful planning.
The moment her words sank in, the three of them felt a collective buzzing in their skulls.
They exchanged a flurry of panicked looks.
Shit.
Eye contact wasn't going to save them now.
They hurriedly shuffled together again to whisper.
What do we do??
That question was written across all three faces.
Thea's argument hit the exact weak point in their fabricated "oracle."
If the deity was watching and had expressed a desire to see more—
and if they were the most devout of the devout—
then of course they couldn't let the goddess wait.
So obviously, the third round should begin at once.
But they couldn't very well say, "Oh, the goddess left right after dropping the oracle. She's… not home anymore."
That would be too ridiculous.
Not even their own island's simple, honest people would buy that, let alone the well-traveled outsider.
Back in her prime, their goddess had been famous for playing around with mortals and slacking off, not for being busy with divine administration.
Claiming that she was "too busy to watch" now would be pure nonsense.
As for taking back the oracle they'd just announced—
also impossible.
Words once spoken were like water spilled on the ground.
Even if they tried to retract them, they couldn't do it two minutes later.
Their old faces weren't quite thick enough yet; they still had a shred of shame.
After a round of tortured deliberation, they finally made their decision.
Fine. Do as she said. Continue with the matches.
As for what to compete in next…
that was the part they had no idea about.
They'd already tested strength.
They'd already tested skill.
What other "specialty of Themyscira" was left to measure?
In their anxiety, the three of them noticed more and more Amazons pointing at them and whispering.
They didn't need to guess what was being said—
it definitely wasn't praise about their "piety" or "honesty."
What stung the most was Artemis's look—
that full, unwavering distrust in her eyes.
We've been breaking our backs thinking about this for you, you ungrateful brat, they howled inwardly.