Thea's heart itched the whole way forward — there were so many divine relics, so much precious loot, it was torture not to touch anything.
In the end, she gave up even looking and just followed the group with monk-like calm, eyes down, pretending to meditate as they wound left, right, and left again through the tower.
From the outside, the tower looked no larger than a hundred square meters, yet inside it stretched on endlessly.
Every step seemed to expand the space further.
Spatial magic? Thea wondered, glancing around.
But no matter how she studied the walls, she couldn't spot any visible runes or distortions.
When they finally crossed a small mountain and two shallow streams inside the tower, Thea had completely abandoned the idea of logic.
And that's when they stopped — before a grassy clearing, open and gentle, surrounded by low trees.
It was clearly artificial, carefully cultivated.
A silver-white stag lay by the bank, its posture heavy and still.
At the sound of footsteps, it didn't lift its head — only its ears twitched faintly, as though trying to recognize the approaching presences.
"This is Artemis's sacred beast," the eldest priestess announced proudly.
"It accompanied the Moon Goddess for countless years. Your third trial… is to earn its approval. So — who will go first?"
Her tone carried unmistakable smugness.
Of course, she was speaking mainly for Thea's benefit.
Every Amazon here already knew the creature.
Some had even fed it back when they'd still been priestesses before being "reassigned" as warriors.
The only stranger here — was Thea.
Even the black warrior, though not close to the animal, had at least seen it before.
Under Artemis's name, she'd encountered it on ceremonial occasions.
Compared to Thea, that was an enormous advantage.
The elder priestess could barely contain her self-satisfaction.
How clever I am! she thought proudly.
No need to test strength, no need for skill — your combat power's useless here! This time we'll see who's got the better connections.
Her scheming was obvious to everyone.
She didn't even bother to hide it.
If the black warrior won this round, the results would be one win, one loss, one draw — a perfect tie.
Then they could just say a few polite words to both sides, and the whole matter would be done.
As for their little power struggle with Hippolyta — that could wait.
They had all the time in the world.
"You're going too far! This is shamelessly unfair to Thea!"
The first to protest was Diana, her voice sharp with outrage.
Blessed with Athena's wisdom, she wasn't exactly a social butterfly — but she wasn't stupid either.
Even a child could see through the priestesses' little game.
Several Amazons joined her, voicing their anger.
Not because they were Thea's loyal followers, but because the "trial" itself was a joke — so blatantly tilted it violated every idea of fairness they had.
Even the black warrior looked embarrassed.
Winning like this would be humiliating. How could she ever show her face again?
But the eldest priestess's face could've been carved from iron.
Say what you want — I'm not changing the rules.
She smiled sweetly and turned to the queen.
"Your Majesty, you have no objections, do you?"
Hippolyta's gaze swept the crowd.
Most faces were angry, a few simply uneasy.
If she struck now, would the crowd fully back her?
She wasn't sure.
Like the priestesses, she believed power struggles had to be managed slowly. Timing was everything.
So she made up her mind — to let the farce proceed.
She'd compensate Thea later. Her private collection held plenty of treasures anyway.
Zeus had been quite generous to his "favorite affair."
What outsiders called divine artifacts were, to Hippolyta, little more than household trinkets.
But support the priestesses publicly? Never.
She simply turned away, pretending not to hear, her gaze fixed on the distant mountains.
The priestess caught the signal and smirked inwardly.
"Very well, then," she said brightly. "Our divine messenger is weary. Who will begin?"
The black warrior lowered her head, unable to meet Thea's eyes.
"I'll go first," she said quietly.
Whether she wanted to end the embarrassment quickly or just offer Thea an example, no one could tell.
She stepped lightly to the side, toward a patch of saplings, and broke off a few tender leafy branches.
Then she approached the stag slowly, voice soft — or at least what she thought sounded soft.
To Thea, it sounded more like someone trying to call pigs to dinner.
"Lulu-lu, come here, eat up… lulu-lu."
Clearly, this wasn't her first time. Her movements were practiced, her tone casual.
The stag lifted its head slightly, accepting the offered leaves, chewing them once or twice.
Then, as if acknowledging her presence, it nodded faintly.
That tiny gesture made the black warrior breathe out in relief — and flush with shame.
She didn't return to the group.
Instead, she sat quietly on the grass, staring at the ground.
"Miss Thea, your turn," the priestess said with a bright, fake smile.
Thea shot her a middle finger.
The priestess didn't understand the gesture, but she definitely understood the intent.
Her grin stiffened.
Go ahead, she thought. Let's see you fail.
As Thea approached, she realized how old the stag truly was.
Unlike the immortal creatures of Paradise Island, this one had not been blessed with eternal life.
Every breath it took drained the last of its strength.
Time had carved deep marks into its body.
Its once-clear eyes were now cloudy — blind.
Its antlers still sharp enough to pierce steel, but the spirit behind them was gone.
When the goddess fell into slumber, this creature had lost its will to fight.
Age had stripped it of courage, of purpose.
It was exhausted.
It was dying — not from wounds, but from the slow, inevitable weight of time.
Thea didn't know how she knew, but she felt its sorrow as if it were her own.
A creature built for battle, left behind with nothing to protect.
A proud warrior, waiting quietly for death.
"Why are you so sad?" Thea whispered, kneeling beside it.
"Can I help you?"
Ignoring the glinting antlers, she reached out, gently brushing her hand along its coarse fur and down its cheek.
Her voice was low but steady.
The stag had ignored everyone else before, assuming they were just more of those scheming priestesses.
But when Thea spoke, something changed.
The tone, the warmth — it was different.
It wasn't manipulation. It was genuine empathy.
Who is this?
The feeling was so familiar, so comforting.
It tried to lift its head, its cloudy eyes struggling to open, trying to see her face clearly.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
"The divine messenger… it responded?!"
In all the thousands of years the stag had lived, no outsider had ever stirred it to move.
The priestesses froze.
It felt like thunder rolling through their skulls — and a stampede trampling their pride.
They turned toward each other, panic flickering in every eye.
"No way… again?!" one mouthed soundlessly.
"Why did I say 'again'? This isn't how it was supposed to go!"
Because somehow, once again — their perfect plan was crumbling.