Foolish Brother Odin

Chapter 384 Artemis's Nightmare
Orpheus is somewhat important, but not that important.

After dealing with him, the only thing of any value left is the so-called "Golden Fleece"!
This thing was actually the leftover scraps from the golden ram that was sacrificed to Zeus. It was quite good for mortals because the whole country became rich because of it.

This thing looks more like a lucky cat.

But money means nothing to Towns.

Gold, isn't that something that mortals offer as tribute, measured in tons?

Keep it as a wig?
Hilarious! Towns liking blonde hair and big waves doesn't mean he wants to be a golden-haired dragon.

What does he need this thing for?
He casually tossed it to Freya; after all, she just liked this kind of superficial stuff.

After tallying the Argo's loot, Downs instructed Brunhilde to reward the less meritorious heroes, and then he returned to the inner palace.

Towns was speechless.

He had just forgotten to give the order when the Valkyrie had already packed Atalanta up and sent her to the back hall. Even Queen Maeve was teasing Atalanta with her little whip.

"Your Majesty, I didn't damage your spoils of war," Maeve said, trying to take credit.

Towns chuckled to himself.

Well, Towns is more of a casual observer when it comes to Atalanta, that kind of wild girl.

Downs found it amusing to watch as she was held down by divine power, forced into an "orz" pose, her head turned, looking at him with a mixture of fear and anger.

"False emperor of another world! You will not win! Artemis... Even if the goddess Artemis cannot deal with you, His Majesty Zeus will grant you just destruction!" Atalanta was truly panicked. She had originally brought up the name of her own chief god, but when the words were about to come out, she realized that the goddess of the hunt was only a god-king level and could not threaten Tang Si, so she changed her words at the last minute.

Atalanta struggled futilely with a fierce tone.

This is so funny!

Hmm, those legs must be over 1.1 meters long, right?

She is only about 1.75 meters tall.

For an ordinary person, this body proportion is nothing short of divine.

To be honest, Towns wasn't really interested at first, but her provocation piqued his interest: "Oh? Your mistress is a virgin goddess, right?"

Looking at Towns' terrifying height, three times that of an ordinary person, Atalanta's wildly alluring face suddenly filled with fear: "No, you can't do this to me..."

Towards the end, his voice trailed off, and his tone became pleading.

While every woman can be a stress-resilient heroine, that doesn't mean it will work on giants!
If she were to be crushed, Atalanta would probably remember clearly the sound of each of her bones shattering before she died.

Downs curled his lip, casually flipped his hand, and pulled out a series of bubble-like mental projections, which were the power of [prophecy]: "I just want to borrow your body to say hello to your master."

Atalanta felt a wave of despair.

She could clearly sense the irresistible, supreme divine power emanating from Downs, far surpassing that of Artemis, the goddess she served; perhaps only Zeus could rival him. Faced with the coercion of such a supreme god-king, what could she do?
She was utterly terrified, especially when she saw Downs' enormous divine body approaching.

"Smaller, smaller, smaller."

"Please, can it be smaller?"

"Please."

Maeve, standing next to her, was delighted; it was practically a carbon copy of her back then.

That night, as moonlight bathed the summit of Mount Olympus, the silver bow slipped from Artemis's knees. Her fingers, gripping the laurel tree, tightened abruptly, the bark peeling away under the unconscious force of the deity. Her pupils, as clear as the moon, were unfocused, veiled in mist; her eyelashes trembled rhythmically; even the palms of her hands, accustomed to drawing the bow, were damp with sweat, staining the suede straps of her quiver a dark shade. Her disordered breathing startled the sleeping hounds, their silver-grey fur rippling in the moonlight. The goddess's lips, usually pressed into a straight line, parted slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible whimper escaping her throat, like a doe pierced by a divine arrow.

She appeared to be awake, but was actually fast asleep.

Deep within her dream, burning hot fingers, like hooks, gripped her waist, a place never before touched by anyone other than herself, raising goosebumps and causing the laurel wreath wrapped around her hair to fall onto her trembling chest.

Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, had a nightmare about her missing chosen one, Atalanta.

"Goddess, save me—" Atalanta cried out in a hazy blue light, about to be swallowed by the light, struggling to emerge from the blue light with her right shoulder, reaching out her right hand to God for help.

Artemis instinctively wanted to seize her chosen ones, to seize this mortal heroine who would have become her handmaiden.

She caught nothing.

This made her immediately realize that this was a dream world connected by divine thoughts.

Atalanta...

A majestic figure seized Atalanta, its intense divine power making it almost impossible for Artemis to look directly at it. The only thing she could remember were the other's extremely aggressive, deep black eyes and its domineering gaze.

Artemis was suddenly startled.

She dreamt with horror that, without her noticing, she had switched places with her constituents, and then an extremely strong sense of empathy suddenly surged through her body, causing her entire body to arch back in agony.

A powerful divine force burst forth from Artemis's soul, finally severing the connection to the dream!

【Ah—】The broken murmurs startled the night fog. When Artemis suddenly opened her eyes, she shattered the dew that had condensed on her eyelashes. She pressed her fingertips against her trembling waist muscles, where the terrible feeling of the giant pressing down with great force seemed to linger.

The rough, labored breathing still echoed in my ears, like the malicious smirk of the god of fate.

The pure silver bow reflected her still-flushed face, a radiant color that a virgin goddess shouldn't possess.

The mountain wind swept past her nose, carrying the remnants of her dream. Suddenly, she collapsed to the ground, retching, her fingernails digging deep into the earth.

The hounds around her whimpered and crawled back, watching their master press her forehead heavily against the laurel trunk.

Artemis bit her lip, drawing out the golden-red divine blood, and cursed furiously, "Towns Paulson, is it? You stole my people's favor! I will repay you a thousandfold! From this moment on, you are my prey!"

Artemis had no idea that on the other side of the starry sky, Downs was grinning wickedly: "The best hunters often appear in the form of their prey."

Meanwhile, Athena was deep in thought in her temple.

"Why did the God-Emperor send mortal heroes to attack the Argo? Revenge? Demonstration? I don't think it's that superficial!"

Athena guessed correctly.

The loss of a number of divine beings in the Greek pantheon was certainly a tragic loss.

That's not so bad.

Ultimately, they are just a group of mortals, with perhaps a few demigods among them.

For the Greek pantheon, it wouldn't be a major blow.

Seven days and nights passed quickly. Afterwards, the Greek pantheon had at least a month to regroup and prepare for the next clash between the two world clusters.

(End of this chapter)