The Villain of Ancient Greece

Several days later, deep within the Arima cavern.

A powerful divine nature of the harvest god spread outward like a tide.

Milky white radiance dense with the breath of life circulated through the dim and cavernous space, forming streams of light as tangible as flowing water, pouring into the center of the golden wheel behind Lorne.

The originally small and modest green grapevine, nourished by this divine life force, rose at a visible pace, forming a broad canopy of deep shade, then pushed through the gap between the wheel’s center and its outer ring and spread into the seventh chaotic sector within, weaving itself into a crown of grape leaves and grapevines.

At the same time, a ring of intertwined gold and green light, shaped like a coronet, encircled Lorne.

The stone walls and the air around him grew gradually moist in the shimmering glow.

Drops of milk-white dew, fine as threads, rained back down and fed the somewhat grey and lifeless ground below.

Grapevines, wheat stalks, asphodel flowers, and an abundance of other green seedlings broke miraculously through the soil.

Tender green shoots swayed in the air as though celebrating the birth of a new king.

It’s done.

Lorne slowly opened his eyes, put away the now-dim Cornucopia cradled in his arms, and raised his hand to touch the grapevine crown resting on his head with quiet satisfaction.

The Seventh (Incantation) Avatar, the Crown, symbol of the divine powers of Life and Healing.

Accelerated recovery, self-regeneration, blood restoration, and regrowth of severed limbs—these were all basic extensions of the divine nature.

Beyond that, he could also channel his own life force and the vitality of all living things to heal the injured, awakening the latent potential within them.

With this power now in his possession, Lorne felt his body and his life force step up onto an entirely new level.

In theory, as long as he did not encounter a god bearing a directly opposing divine law or a particularly thorough practitioner of dismemberment, even if every limb were severed, he could reattach them, lie down for a time, and return to causing trouble as lively as ever.

Furthermore, with the extreme upper limit of what his body could endure having taken a great leap forward, the Phanes avatar he relied on as his greatest trump card seemed to have entered a new stage as well.

Take that time on the island of Cyprus, for instance.

If he were to face Ares’s divine avatar again, he could activate four powers simultaneously and comfortably sustain that state for close to two hours.

Factor out the sealing attribute of the Nation-Forging Spear, and he could thrash that war god’s lesser form so thoroughly that neither Zeus nor Hera would recognize him.

Pushing further, with five avatars active simultaneously in the state of Phanes the Primordial One, he could likely sustain combat for around thirty minutes.

Even against an opponent wielding the Nation-Forging Spear head-on, victory was not out of the question.

The most extreme scenario would be activating all six powers together and becoming Phanes himself.

Based on how much punishment his current body could endure, Lorne estimated he could hold that state for roughly two to three minutes.

Deployed with the element of surprise, it would be more than enough to give Hypnos and the three Erinyes at his heels a taste of genuine suffering.

And that was with only six powers in harmony, enough to keep him alive against a major god.

If he gathered the divine natures of all twelve Olympians and fused them into one, Lorne estimated he might truly be able to measure himself against the king of Olympos.

At the very least, he would stand in the same tier as Athena, the goddess of war; Poseidon, the sea king; and Hades, the king of the underworld.

But even that was not the final horizon his fate could reach.

If he could push through every barrier standing before him, open broader reaches of space and the world, gather more divine natures and powers to fill that void, and unite all things into one, what would he ultimately become?

King of kings, god of gods?

The Lord of Hosts, sovereign over all things and all phenomena?

The grand vision playing out in his mind set Lorne’s blood stirring with something he could barely contain.

But before long, the bones resting in the cavern corner and the three pairs of concerned eyes watching him from nearby brought him back to the present.

Oh well.

He could not even deal with a single age of the Greek gods yet, and here he was daydreaming about becoming the Lord of Hosts.

A journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one’s feet.

It’s always better to get back to the matter at hand.

Lorne shook his head, cleared away the tangled thoughts, and rose from the ground.

Under the watchful gaze of Thetis, Cerberus, and Echidna, he walked to stand before those bleached white bones and reached out with an open hand.

The golden sacred cup appeared in his palm, wrapped in soft, pure radiance.

Then Lorne held his other hand above it, clenched his fist, and pierced his own palm with his fingertip.

As blood carrying the power of life merged with the aether in the air and transformed into sweet, fragrant wine that poured down into the cup.

”Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. I anoint with oil and seal with a mark, that my cup may overflow.

Grant goodness its grace, grant death its life.

With my blood, I consecrate you...”

As the deep, chanting words of the divine invocation rose into the air, Lorne tilted the cup, pouring the wine it held across the bones wreathed in grey-black death energy.

Hissss.

Immediately, where the two forces met, a violent reaction like water hitting boiling oil erupted.

The dense grey death energy clinging deep within the bones was forced outward by the pure divine nature of life, hissing and spattering in all directions.

Every trace of green that had just taken root in the cavern withered and died the instant it was touched by the surging death energy.

Thetis saw this and quickly drew Cerberus behind her while simultaneously casting defensive spells to shelter the unconscious Adonis and Sisyphus within a barrier.

With her support behind him, Lorne set down every last concern, unleashed the life power of his Seventh Avatar, the Crown, at full force, and together with the divine wine of the god of wine pouring into Echidna’s bones, scoured the entrenched death energy out inch by inch.

In this tug of war between Life and Death, the death energy of the underworld, vast in quantity but lacking a core and coherence, could not hold its ground against the refined and ordered divine nature of life and was ground back step by step, worn away and extinguished.

The bones that had been the color of dead ash began to take on a jade-like luster.

The deep-red divine wine that had seeped into the skeleton wove together and surged through every area the baptism had cleansed, tracing out the shapes of blood vessels, connective tissue, and organs inch by inch.

Flesh and blood grew at a furious rate, filling every hollow, rapidly reconstructing the living form she had once possessed.

Watching this scene of life reversing death, Echidna’s expression was one of stunned and grateful astonishment.

Beside her, Cerberus also barked with frantic excitement, overjoyed at its mother’s rebirth.

In the corner, however, Thetis had her brow drawn tightly together, her face filled with worry.

Restoring the dead to life was a forbidden act against the laws of life itself, and attempting it here in the underworld where the law of death held its greatest dominion made it more dangerous still.

Not to mention the person he was trying to save was an ancient god.

Even if it succeeded, Lorne would inevitably pay a heavy price for it.

As was only to be expected.

As the life power was rapidly consumed, the color drained gradually from Lorne’s face.

The verdant grape-leaf crown on his head withered and faded swiftly, every green leaf falling away, until only dark grapevine stems without moisture or luster remained, dry and black.

Not enough. Still not enough.

Looking at the ink-dark death energy entrenched at the center of Echidna’s chest, Lorne steeled himself, frantically drew aether from the air around him, grabbed every trace of living essence in the surroundings, pushed the power of life to its absolute limit, and drove back the death will, making its last desperate stand inside Echidna’s bones, inch by inch.

”Hmmm!”

With one final, reluctant wail, the clot of death energy obstructing the growth of flesh and blood was completely extinguished.

Blood vessels and connective tissue spread rapidly upward, restoring living vitality fully to the skeleton, restoring her original face and form.

As the last of the skin and hair finished growing, Lorne’s body swayed, and he began to topple forward.

Thetis, who had been watching the field closely, lunged forward at once.

She covered Echidna’s newly restored and rather exposed form with a cloth, then steadied the exhausted young man and helped him sit down, her gaze drifting to the top of his head with an ache of concern in her eyes.

”You are hurt...”

Lorne reached up instinctively, and the moment his fingertip touched the crown on his head, a faint, sharp pain pricked through him, as though something pointed had broken the skin.

Thetis, seeing this, gathered the moisture from the air and formed it into a small mirror, holding it up before him.

In the clear reflection, Lorne saw that the Crown that had once represented the vitality of all living things had entirely withered.

Every green grape leaf had fallen, and even the remaining vines had lost all moisture and sheen, dry and black.

More than that, perhaps because the life law had been overextended and death’s backlash had set in, the withered vines had put out sharp, vicious thorns that had worked their way into the skin of Lorne’s head, leaving small points of blood and a persistent, stinging ache.

Thorns are a curse and pain.

No one in this world would willingly wear thorns as a crown.

But if it was a sacrifice made to save a life, then this suffering was nothing worth speaking of.

The Crown of Thorns, was it?

Lorne ran his fingertips across each sharp point of the crown on his head, feeling the waves of pain it sent through him, and smiled with a quiet, thoughtful expression.

So that was how it was.

Here in this underworld filled to the brim with death, the blood of the lamb and the suffering of thorns had at last broken through the shackles of fate and watered the bud that would bear the fruit of new life and miracles.

Now, the god’s blood had been shed for you.

The god’s pain has been endured for you.

Then, let forgiveness come in this very moment.

This incarnation of flesh should by rights seal its covenant here and welcome the newborn.

Lorne dismissed the Crown and ceased the flow of life power, then raised his head to look ahead.

”How are you?”

”The body has been repaired, and its functions are entirely restored, yet there are still no signs of coming back to life.”

In the corner, the still-ghostly Echidna shook her head, her expression filled with confusion and a sinking sense of deflation.

She could not understand why.

Her body looked completely lifelike on the surface, its functions perfectly intact, yet her soul could not enter it, could not fuse with it and resonate as one.

”That is because one final ingredient is needed to ignite the spark of life.”

Lorne smiled faintly and passed the elixir of immortality to Thetis beside him.

The sea goddess gave a knowing nod and stepped forward to support Echidna where she lay on the ground.

She drew the cork from the small bottle and guided the deep-red medicine into her mouth, then used her power over fluids to carry the elixir rapidly through every part of this serpent mother’s body.

A moment later, a distinct rise and fall appeared in the chest beneath the white cloth, the two peaks swaying gently, as divine blood began to pump and surge in time with the contracting heartbeat.

”Now!”

Hearing Lorne’s prompt, Echidna hesitated no longer.

With a heart filled to overflowing with anticipation, she plunged herself headlong into the body radiating with vibrant life.

Before long, the serpent mother on the ground completed the first merging of soul and flesh.

Her lashes trembled, and she slowly opened her eyes.

The dim colors of the cavern, the howling wind against her ears, the heavy scent before her nose, the delicate brush of white cloth against her skin.

One after another, sensations and impressions came flooding back, filling her heart in a way she had not felt for so very long.

And Echidna felt the joy of being reborn, truly and completely.

(End of Chapter)