Thea didn't have lofty ideals or philosophical doctrines to dwell on.
All she wanted was simple: for her family to survive the future chaos among those overpowered gods—and if possible, to live comfortably while doing so.
While Antiope went off to "guide her troublesome niece," Thea soon found herself surrounded by a large group of Amazons.
They might've lived for five thousand years, but mentally, they were still surprisingly straightforward.
She couldn't teach them archery—too dependent on talent and certain "external aids"—but she could share a few of humanity's more practical combat tricks.
Techniques passed down and refined over a thousand years of human warfare.
Picking out a few moves that matched the Amazons' brawling, close-combat style, she demonstrated patiently.
They didn't care that Thea's age wasn't even one-tenth of theirs—every single one of them learned with wide-eyed enthusiasm, like kids seeing a new toy.
By the time they reached the temple gates, a few hundred women had gathered around her.
Meanwhile, Diana—utterly fed up with her aunt's never-ending lecture about "the purity of ideals"—had dragged Thea into yet another mock duel under the excuse of "testing philosophies."
Neither of them fought seriously; they sparred, laughed, stopped, walked, sparred again—like two overgrown schoolgirls on a road trip.
Their antics, however, drew a lot of attention.
More and more Amazons fell behind the main group to watch them play-fight.
The entire procession looked bizarre:
The front ranks walked in neat formation, occasionally glancing back, while the rear half sounded like a festival—shouts, cheers, laughter, and the clash of training weapons echoing all the way down the path.
By the time the front finally halted, they realized they'd arrived.
"We're already here? That was fast."
"Oh no—Miss Thea's burned a lot of stamina on the way. Won't that hurt her chances in the next round?"
"No wonder those old hags didn't stop her… how devious!"
Their attitudes toward Thea had clearly softened.
They weren't devoted followers, but at least they were friendly now.
Many realized that she should've conserved her energy before the final trial, yet she'd spent the whole trip playing around.
Diana, too, began to regret it.
All the Amazons on this island had been born fully grown, never knowing childhood. She was the only one who'd truly grown up, step by step. Having never really had playmates, she'd been too happy to finally find one.
Now she felt guilty.
Thea patted her shoulder. "I'm fine."
This kind of low-intensity exercise? She could keep it up for three days straight.
Still, Diana didn't relax.
She stood straight, focusing as the priestesses began their announcement.
"The temple's inner space is limited," the eldest priestess said calmly. "Only the competitors may enter. Oh—and Her Majesty, of course, may also attend."
No one objected.
The temple complex had once been huge, but over the millennia, Hippolyta had claimed more and more of its land—always "for the comfort of the warriors," or "for improved housing."
Five thousand years later, the sacred grounds had shrunk to a fraction of their former size, barely enough to fit two hundred spectators.
Without waiting for further response, the three priestesses took the lead toward the entrance.
The queen, Antiope, and the black warrior followed.
Thea sighed and trailed after them.
Diana, unsurprisingly, walked calmly at her side. She was blessed by the gods—no one dared bar her from entering anywhere.
The remaining warriors chose a hundred representatives to enter last, filling the sacred hall.
The age of the gods is over, Thea thought as she stepped inside.
That was her first impression.
Once, this temple would've radiated divine majesty.
Now, the statues of the Twelve Olympians stood shoulder to shoulder, almost cramped, their presence diminished.
They were still works of art—beautiful, strong—but not a trace of divinity remained. Only dust, decay, and the heavy air of endings.
Could there be hidden loot in here? she wondered. Main characters usually find something stashed inside statues.
Activating Horus's Eye, she swept the area.
When her vision fell on a certain spot, she nearly burst out laughing.
Behind the temple, she spotted very mortal signs of life—clearly the priestesses' living quarters. That alone was fine; even clergy had to eat and sleep.
But what made her nearly choke was the neat row of sun-dried sweet potatoes hanging by their window.
So I'm not the only one who thinks the food here is terrible, she thought, grinning. Even the priestesses are secretly upgrading their meals.
"Hey! Don't use divine sight here!" Diana nudged her sharply with her elbow.
"Sorry, sorry." Thea whispered back, genuinely contrite.
Using a foreign god's power inside a Greek temple? Yeah, that was basically blasphemy with a cherry on top.
Besides, these Olympians weren't dead—just too injured (or too lazy) to move.
Still snickering, Thea leaned in and whispered her discovery into Diana's ear.
Diana's face twisted, her serious expression cracking into something between horror and laughter.
Her lips twitched violently as she clamped both hands over her mouth, eyes glued to the floor to avoid looking at the three priestesses up front.
If she looked up now, she'd lose it completely.
The priestesses, oblivious to the silent comedy behind them, continued walking—past the altar, toward a side passage.
"I thought the contest was inside the temple?" Thea whispered. "Where are they going?"
"Looks like the path to the high tower," Diana murmured back.
High tower?
Thea frowned, puzzled, but followed anyway.
"Clang!"
The guards at the tower entrance pushed open the heavy wooden doors. Dust rained down from above as the priestess strode in without hesitation.
The moment Thea stepped inside, she saw it—
A sword.
Placed squarely in the center of the chamber, gleaming under the faint light.
Pure Greek design—sixty centimeters long, with a flame-shaped crossguard wrapping tightly around the blade.
The entire weapon shone gold.
So this must be the "God-Slaying Sword" Hippolyta used to fool Diana with—'Attack Power +999,' right?
But the divine energy here was thick.
Thea could feel lingering will—fragments of gods who'd once left their power behind.
She didn't dare use Horus's Eye again.
Even without it, the sword's aura was… too perfect, too radiant, like a piece of theater scenery trying too hard to impress.
In the original timeline, Ares had shattered this thing like cheap glass.
So… is this the fake one?
Did Hippolyta secretly swap the real sword for her own collection?
Thea could only sigh.
That was one very special way of showing maternal love.
As they walked deeper into the tower, more artifacts came into view—holy relics, armor, weapons.
There was Diana's future shield, her golden lasso, and dozens of other divine tools Thea couldn't even name.
Such a waste! If I could just—
She forced herself to stop the thought.
The deeper they went, the stronger the pressure became—an invisible weight of divine attention.
Horus could borrow his father's power when needed; and that was a lesser god.
Here, she was surrounded by a dozen Olympians—
and the inscrutable might of Zeus himself.
Even if Blackened Superman flew in right now, he wouldn't dare try to rob this place.
So Thea Queen, self-proclaimed pragmatist, kept her hands respectfully at her sides—
and behaved herself for once.