On any other day, if that black brute had given them such a look, the priestesses would've snapped right back — Who do you think you're glaring at, you musclehead?
But this wasn't any other day.
Now, it wasn't about pride — it was survival.
They'd been cornered. If they wanted to keep their cushy positions and avoid being reassigned to front-line warrior duty, they had to fight back.
Of course, shouting slogans was one thing — figuring out what to actually do was another.
The black warrior was a textbook Amazon — all brawn, no subtlety. Fighting and killing were the only skills she had. They'd already tested strength and skill; what were they supposed to compare now, hand-to-hand combat?
The three priestesses exchanged uneasy glances and simultaneously shook their heads.
They hadn't forgotten how Thea had "played the pig to eat the tiger" last time — harmless at first glance, lethal when it counted. Who knew if she was secretly a martial arts master too?
The eldest priestess squeezed her temples, trying to think through the headache. Surrounded by suspicious stares from the crowd, inspiration suddenly struck her.
She whispered something quickly to the other two.
Not that there was much to discuss — she actually had a plan, which already put her two peers at ease. The situation was collapsing by the second; every moment they delayed, their credibility sank further.
A bad plan was better than no plan.
This time, the bad priestess absolutely refused to be the one to announce the "divine oracle." With this many witnesses, what were they going to do—pretend another oracle had dropped out of nowhere? Did they think a thousand Amazons were idiots?
So the eldest priestess had no choice but to step forward herself.
Of course, even she didn't dare blatantly fake a new "message from the goddess" in front of everyone. She wasn't eager to die via public stoning.
So she improvised—putting a shiny new disguise on their old trick.
"Through our interpretation of the divine oracle," she declared solemnly,
"we believe the goddess intends to personally oversee the final trial!
The third contest shall take place… in the temple itself."
To be fair, it was a clever move.
Out of fear or reverence, the crowd's rising indignation was instantly subdued.
"Wait, really? There was an oracle?"
"Maybe… maybe they weren't lying?"
"Let's see how this plays out…"
The priestess's invocation of divine authority stunned the crowd into silence.
Even Thea and Diana exchanged a glance — both equally baffled.
Hold on. Was there actually an oracle just now?
The two of them had sensed nothing.
But Hippolyta, who'd been dealing with these old schemers for over five thousand years, wasn't so easily fooled.
Feigning the perfect expression of starstruck awe, she gasped, clutching her hands together.
"A divine oracle? Truly? Oh, blessed goddess! May I go to the temple and hear it for myself?"
Her tone was pure fangirl devotion — but her eyes were glittering with mischief.
Of course, the priestesses couldn't refuse.
She wasn't just queen — she also had some very personal history with Zeus.
Even if Artemis herself descended from the heavens, Hippolyta would still outrank her socially. Asking merely to "observe" wasn't something any of them dared deny.
So the eldest priestess gave a vague, evasive answer.
"The oracle was… quite cryptic. But we mustn't keep the goddess waiting. Let's proceed at once."
A row of question marks practically appeared above every sharp mind in the group.
What are they scheming this time?
Thea, of course, was one of those sharp minds.
She couldn't make sense of what the old women were plotting either.
Judging by the black warrior's equally confused expression, though, it seemed she was just as clueless.
Fair enough, Thea thought. At least the confusion's mutual.
All she wanted was to end this farce and go home.
If these people wanted to fight a power struggle with Hippolyta, that was their business.
Why drag me into it? I've got bread dough waiting back home.
Hearing that Diana would be coming along, Thea felt even more relaxed.
Those old hags wouldn't dare summon Ares himself, would they?
Nothing to worry about, then. Calmly, she followed the procession.
Halfway there, she even pulled a handful of blueberries from her pouch and offered them to Diana.
The two of them strolled after the main group, chatting and snacking like they were on a leisurely field trip.
And maybe it was just Diana's proximity to Thea, but her demigoddess composure had definitely eroded — she took the berries without a shred of hesitation and popped them into her mouth, enjoying them openly.
Watching from ahead, both Hippolyta and Antiope shared a knowing look —
each woman thoughtful in her own way, though what exactly they were thinking, no one could say.
The trek from the forest to the central temple wasn't short.
Seeing everyone walking solemnly, Thea decided not to suggest taking horses — that'd probably get her decapitated for "disrespect."
Still, when she spotted an apple tree along the path, she couldn't resist.
With one solid punch, she snapped a branch clean off, picked up seven or eight apples, and stuffed them into her bag.
The faction leaders all pretended not to notice — for their own reasons.
Many of the watching warriors saw, though.
Most ignored it; a few misread it entirely, assuming she was showing off her strength. They started cheering loudly.
That left Thea a bit embarrassed.
Well, since they're cheering anyway…
Sharing spirit it is.
She picked out a few apples and tossed them to the loudest ones in the crowd, earning another wave of delighted shouts.
The warriors who caught them slowed their steps, joining Thea and Diana to walk side by side.
Naturally, the conversation turned to Thea's impressive kills.
"How did you manage to shoot all those so precisely?"
Laughing, Thea humored them — recreating the scene like a story out of The Legend of the Condor Heroes, complete with dramatic hand gestures, describing how one eagle had seemed almost drawn toward her by Horus's unseen guidance.
That bit of flair sent the crowd into a frenzy.
More and more Amazons drifted closer, eager to watch her demonstrate.
Never one to turn down an audience, Thea obligingly shot down two small hawks on the spot, each arrow clean and deadly.
The cheers nearly shook the sky — even Diana was starting to look tempted to try a few shots herself.
Their festive, almost holiday-like mood stood in sharp contrast to the priestesses' grim faces.
Antiope, unable to hold back any longer, turned around and challenged Thea to a shooting match.
It turned out Antiope was a far better archer than spearmaiden.
She and Thea went head-to-head, matching each other arrow for arrow — first shooting still targets, then moving ones, then vertical shots, trick shots, even triple volleys in midair.
It was less a contest and more a dazzling exhibition of skill.
When they finally paused, Antiope couldn't help but ask curiously,
"I thought the outside world used gunpowder now. Why focus so much on archery?"
Thea smiled lightly. "Because the bow gives me courage — the will to protect my city from those who'd harm it. Gunpowder can't do that. It only makes killing easier."
"Oh?" Antiope turned to Diana, eyes bright.
"Listen to her — her ideals differ from yours, yet they're just as noble. This is what I told you before: there's more than one kind of protector. You should really think about—"
And with that, she launched into another passionate lecture, dissecting Diana's personal code of heroism and how it could be improved, while Thea quietly munched on an apple beside them, pretending not to exist.