The Myth of the Greek Heavenly Demon

“Sigh.”

“Don’t worry, Hermes.”

“Chiron, it’s just… whew…”

Just in time, Hermes met Chiron in front of the infirmary and dragged him to a quiet nearby warehouse to spill the whole story of what had just transpired.
Chiron also wiped his face and hardened his expression as if feeling dizzy, but since the queen of the gods commanded it, he had nothing more to say.
Regardless of his lineage, Dianes was a disciple he personally brought, and probably a child led by Nyx from beginning to end.
However, even if his lineage was extraordinary to the point of astonishment, as expected, from Chiron’s perspective, Dianes was far from being a seed of disaster.
It was Dianes who brought Atalanta back to the bright world and stopped Hercules’s rampage.

“So, why don’t you meet him in person and make a judgment?”

“Hahaha, y-yes. That would be the reasonable thing to do…”

Chiron, comforting Hermes, who had turned pale as if being dragged to Tartarus, entered the infirmary.
Hercules, his entire face wrapped in bandages, and Atalanta, aiming her bow at him.
And between them, Dianes was quietly minding his own business.

“You rascals!! Causing a commotion in the infirmary of all places! What kind of disgraceful behavior is this in front of our esteemed guest?!”

The Forest of Heroes was always full of chaos, and Hermes, who frequented the forest so often, was no stranger to it.
Still, there should be limits.
Hermes quickly changed his expression and smiled brightly, but Chiron had a duty to discipline his students for such disgraceful behavior, especially in front of the messenger of Olympus.
Moreover, this was also an opportunity to arrange for Hermes to have a calm, private conversation with Dianes.

“M-Master! Atalanta suddenly drew her bow…!”

“Master Chiron, that’s not it!”

“….I tried to stop them.”

Hercules and Atalanta, who were pleading their case to Chiron as if they were unfairly accused, were swiftly grabbed by the nape of their necks and dragged out by their teacher’s hand.

“…..”

“…..”

The once bustling infirmary fell silent as if a storm had just passed through.
In the infirmary room, where an indescribable and strange silence had settled, only the beautiful golden-haired messenger of the god and the strikingly beautiful black-haired young hero were left behind.

“Uh… hello?”

“H-ha… Hello?”

What to do with this atmosphere?
The trickster of the gods, the clever one of Olympus.
Hermes felt sweat soaking his back and his facial muscles stiffening as if they were about to cramp.

The young hero, who at a glance seemed to be a truly beautiful boy.
As if slicing through the night, the soft flutter of his black hair, and his delicate face, which could be believed to belong to a woman if well adorned, made one wonder if he might be a child of Aphrodite, had they not known his origins.

‘If Brother Apollo saw him, he would be in an uproar.’

Recalling his half-brother, who had recently lost his lover in an accident and was now endlessly playing the lyre in his temple, Hermes shrugged his shoulders.
In any case, he was the proud messenger of Olympus.
As someone who witnessed the end of Typhon, he had the responsibility to determine whether this child would become a blessing or a curse to Olympus.
Steeling his resolve, Hermes opened his mouth with a bright smile he self-proclaimed as the “disarming smile.”

“You must be the newly arrived Dianes, right?”

“Greetings to the messenger of the gods, the fastest among the gods. I am Dianes, entrusted to the Forest of Heroes.”

Dianes, who bowed his head calmly, stood a few steps away and met his eyes.
Indeed, even if he was not of that lineage, he was an extraordinary child.

Regardless of his birth, he was still at a young age, yet when Hermes entered, his obsidian-like black eyes did not lose their calm light even in front of a god.

Come to think of it, how should he determine this child’s rank?

‘If he is a direct descendant of Nyx, he could be considered higher in rank than my father… but looking at it like this, it’s clear. This child, it’s not that a god has transformed or taken on a mortal form. He’s a real human.’

To be precise, would he be considered a demigod with the thick blood of a god?
One way or another, it was certain that the mother of the old night sent the child to this Greek land in the form of a human.

‘But it’s strange…’

Seeing him directly in front of him like this, he could understand why Hera had once recommended meeting him in person.
Hermes’s divine duty was originally to be the protector of travelers and pilgrims.
However, after Pandora’s calamity, the newly created humans were steeped in malice, and travelers and pilgrims soon turned into thieves and swindlers, which his followers accepted with a smile.
Still, Hermes was the guardian of travelers, and he himself was a wanderer who roamed the world day in and day out.
When Hermes met those pitch-black obsidian-like eyes.
His divine duty whispered that the child before him was a wanderer from a place farther than any traveler he had ever seen.
Even Hermes, wearing the Talaria, would not compare to his journey.

“Hmm, may I sit for a moment?”

“Oh, I apologize for my rudeness in front of a guest. I’m sorry.”

As Dianes offered him a seat, the curiosity slowly rose through the cracks of the wariness that had filled Hermes’s mind.
It was said that he had already seen Artemis’s blood at their first meeting, was a small hero highly praised by Ares and Poseidon, and was a descendant of the Protogenoi who appeared after hundreds of years.
And his divine voice whispered that he was a traveler who arrived in this Greek land from a place so distant that even Hermes could not imagine.

‘How is that even possible?’

Of course, it was meaningless to question the impossible, given that the primordial gods had intervened.
How, then, could the eyes of this young child reveal the weary wanderer from a long journey?
Hermes could not contain his rising curiosity.

Dianes, who offered him a seat, presented fruits and some steaming green liquid before him, like a host welcoming a guest.

“…What is this?”

“Oh, it is tea from my homeland. Yesterday, while chatting with Asclepius, I found some familiar herbs and decided to make it.”

Homeland!
Hermes did not miss the fleeting wistfulness on Dianes’s fair face as soon as the word was spoken.
According to what he knew, Dianes’s homeland would be the island of Passos.
However, from Hermes’s recent thorough investigation of Passos, he knew that there was no culture of blending herbs and brewing them in hot water on the island.
The decoction of this herb was surely from a faraway culture in his memories!

“Is this the first time you’ve heard of the custom of serving decoction in Passos?”

Hermes, smiling brightly, lifted the cup offered to him, while Dianes, sitting opposite, brought his cup to his lips and looked at him with a chuckle.

“Because it’s something I used to drink in my real hometown.”

“Oh… I see.”

He intended to gauge his reaction, but was it himself who ended up revealing more?
Hermes could only smile bitterly at the fact that those obsidian-like black eyes were actually observing him.

“It seems you’ve done some background research on me… Instead, why don’t you just ask straightforwardly?”

Dianes’s suggestion, bold and confident yet not felt as rude, only heightened Hermes’s amusement.
Humans facing a god were usually divided into three categories.
The devout who couldn’t lift their heads due to awe and fear.
The ruffians who would lift their heads defiantly, claiming not to be intimidated by any god.
The heroes who would greet appropriately, saying they were struggling regardless of the god.

However, this black-haired boy was a new type that didn’t fit into those three categories.
A prospective god who meets others with the attitude of “you are you, and I am me.”
He could understand a little why Ares and Poseidon liked him.

For now, he respects them and even holds some affection and respect for them.
He was not ignorant of gods and knew their power and fame, respecting them.
However, given Artemis’s example and his current attitude, if someone crossed the line he permitted, he would probably retaliate fiercely.
Considering his lineage, the wound on Artemis’s shoulder could be seen as a small price to pay for crossing the line.

“The hero who made Lady Artemis groan in pain. Quite impressive.”

“Oh, is the goddess still suffering? If it’s not too much trouble, could you ask about her well-being later?”

“Hehehe. Of course, I should.”

He had some wit, too.
In Hermes’s mind, the wariness was gradually disappearing, replaced by an interest in a new conversation partner and the unknown world he spoke of.