I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Before Chiron could react, a cold whisper snaked through the air, sending a shiver down Odysseus’s spine.

“It’s time to die. “

Nathan’s gaze locked onto Odysseus, cold and unyielding. Since the war’s inception, Odysseus had been a thorn in his side, an incessant nuisance. He lacked the raw strength of the other Greek warriors, but his cunning more than made up for it. Odysseus was the glue holding the fractious Greek kings together, the one ensuring their united front. Nathan knew that if Odysseus were to fall, the tenuous alliance would crumble. The kings, driven by ambition and ego, would inevitably turn on each other, and chaos would reign.

Moreover, it was Odysseus who had orchestrated Chiron’s arrival, tipping the scales of battle further against Nathan’s side. That alone made him a priority target.

Odysseus’s sharp instincts betrayed him this time. He didn’t anticipate Nathan’s sudden approach, his cold presence practically materializing in front of him. The Greek hero barely had a moment to react as Nathan drew his black blade, its surface absorbing the faint light around it, and swung with lethal intent.

The attack was merciless, aimed directly at Odysseus’s neck to sever his head in one fluid motion.

BADAM!

The air itself seemed to crack under the force of Nathan’s strike. A shockwave rippled outward from the impact, blasting through the ranks of Odysseus’s men. The unfortunate soldiers closest to the epicenter were thrown backward like ragdolls, some rendered unconscious while others fell lifeless to the ground.

Yet, to Nathan’s irritation, Odysseus remained unharmed. A faint shimmer surrounded the Greek tactician—a barrier that had absorbed the brunt of Nathan’s attack without so much as a scratch. The protective aura flickered momentarily before fading into invisibility, but its purpose was clear.

Nathan’s expression darkened, his mind quickly deducing the truth.

“It’s not his power,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “Athena.”

The goddess had bestowed her blessing upon her favored protégé. Odysseus was too vital to her plans for her to leave him unprotected. She understood his importance in the war, and this divine intervention ensured his continued survival.

Nathan’s grip on his sword tightened as his fury grew. “Let’s see how long your blessing lasts,” he hissed, his tone seething with menace.

The murderous intent radiating from Nathan was palpable, a suffocating aura that sent chills down Odysseus’s spine. For all his famed composure, even he couldn’t suppress the unease gnawing at him. Nathan’s killing intent was unlike anything he had encountered before—it was as if death itself had fixed its gaze on him.

“You are quite the enigma,” a calm yet commanding voice interrupted.

Chiron, ever vigilant, had already drawn his massive bow. In one swift motion, he nocked an arrow, the tip glowing faintly with divine energy. At such close range, even Nathan couldn’t escape unscathed.

But Nathan wasn’t alone.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion shattered the tension as Hector launched himself into the fray. His powerful frame moved with blinding speed, closing the distance between himself and Chiron in an instant. His fist, encased in a golden glow, lashed out with tremendous force aimed directly at the centaur.

Chiron, sensing the imminent danger, raised his arms in defense.

BADAM!

The impact was catastrophic. Chiron managed to absorb the blow, but the sheer force sent him skidding back several meters. His hooves scraped against the ground, carving deep grooves as he struggled to regain his balance.

Nathan wasted no time, seizing the opportunity created by Hector’s intervention. His black sword, radiating a cold malevolence, was raised high, and he pointed it directly at Odysseus.

“Celestial-rank Ice Magic.”

The incantation echoed ominously, and an icy vortex swirled from the blade. Frost bloomed in the air, coalescing into a massive, gleaming lance of ice—its form jagged and deadly, its edges razor-sharp. The air around Nathan grew colder as the lance hovered for a moment, a harbinger of death.

With a sharp motion, Nathan released the spell. The icy weapon streaked through the air at an impossible speed, aimed squarely at Odysseus’s head.

The lance struck true, but once again, Athena’s divine barrier activated. The shimmering protection enveloping Odysseus flared brightly, absorbing the Celestial Magic. The ice lance disintegrated into a fine mist, its destructive energy dissipating harmlessly.

Odysseus staggered slightly, raising an arm to shield his eyes from the impact’s brilliance. While he remained unharmed, his composure faltered. The sheer force of the attack left his body trembling; the magnitude of Celestial Magic was beyond anything he had ever felt before.

But Nathan wasn’t finished.

Before Odysseus could recover, Nathan closed the distance, his sword descending with brutal precision. The blade collided with the barrier, and the resulting shockwave rippled outward, sending a tremor through the battlefield.

This time, a faint fracture appeared on the divine barrier—a hairline crack, but one that sent shockwaves of disbelief through Odysseus.

“Impossible…” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

The blessing of Athena was supposed to be impenetrable, a divine safeguard against any mortal attack. Yet here it was, compromised. Doubts gripped Odysseus’s heart as he stared at Nathan, realizing this was no ordinary foe.

Nathan’s weapon wasn’t just a blade—it was the sword of a past Demon King, a weapon forged with malice so profound it had once angered the gods themselves. Each swing carried the echoes of defiance and destruction, and now, it was bearing down on Athena’s chosen champion.

High above, Athena herself observed the scene with widening eyes. Her serene confidence gave way to alarm. Initially, she had dismissed Nathan as just another mortal, though a bit strong, but now, his strength and the power of his weapon were undeniable.

“This is dangerous,” Athena murmured, her divine voice trembling with rare concern.

Her response was swift. With a mere whisper, her divine will descended upon the Greek soldiers scattered across the battlefield. A shimmering light enveloped them as Athena’s blessing infused their bodies, bolstering their strength and resolve.

The soldiers roared in unison, their fear erased by divine intervention. They charged toward Nathan with reckless determination, their singular goal to protect Odysseus.

Nathan’s gaze darkened as he braced himself. He leaped backward to gain some distance, then swung his sword in a wide arc. The blade cleaved through the air with a shrill whistle, cutting down several Greeks in a single stroke. Their blood stained the ground, but their numbers were overwhelming.

Even as he cut them down, more surged forward, their ranks replenished by Athena’s divine influence. Odysseus, sensing an opening amidst the chaos, began retreating, putting as much distance between himself and Nathan as possible.

Nathan clenched his teeth in frustration as the horde of soldiers swarmed around him. His annoyance was palpable—each second wasted on these grunts gave Odysseus more time to escape.

Suddenly, a chorus of whistles sliced through the air.

A rain of arrows fell upon the Greek soldiers, piercing through their helmets and skulls with deadly precision. The soldiers dropped like marionettes with their strings cut, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the ground.

Nathan turned toward the source, and there she stood—Atalanta. Her bow was drawn, and her sharp eyes locked onto the battlefield.

“Go!” she called out, loosing another volley of arrows. A dozen more Greeks fell, their charge toward Nathan halted by her deadly aim.

Nathan nodded, a rare flicker of gratitude in his expression. Atalanta’s intervention had carved a path through the chaos, a direct route to Odysseus.

Without hesitation, Nathan surged forward, his focus fixed on the fleeing tactician.

Nathan snarled as Chiron appeared out of nowhere, his movements swift and deadly, wielding a gleaming longsword. The centaur’s blade whistled through the air, aiming to cleave Nathan in half with unrelenting speed.

“You are annoying!” Nathan snapped, his voice filled with irritation as he swung his black sword upward with all his strength to counter.

BADAAAAM!

The clash of their weapons sent a deafening shockwave through the battlefield. The sheer force of Chiron’s strike was monstrous, but this time, Nathan held his ground. His knees buckled slightly, his muscles straining against the titanic power behind Chiron’s blow. For a moment, Nathan resisted the centaur’s might, his dark blade shimmering with magic.

But even Nathan knew he couldn’t hold for long.

Fortunately, Hector arrived like a storm, his golden sword slashing downward at Chiron. The centaur was forced to disengage, turning his attention to Hector. Their swords met with a resounding crash, and the impact propelled both combatants away, their hooves and feet digging into the ground as they skidded to a halt.

Nathan exhaled sharply, using the opening to refocus his attention on Odysseus. The tactician was just within reach, retreating through the chaos. Nathan’s grip tightened on his sword, his determination flaring.

“Just a few more seconds…” Nathan muttered to himself.

Dark magic began to gather around him, swirling like an ominous storm. He channeled its energy into his blade, preparing to shatter Athena’s barrier once and for all. This time, Odysseus would have no escape.

But just as Nathan surged forward, a figure materialized in his path.

Diomedes.

The warrior’s stance was unyielding, his blade poised to block Nathan’s advance. “I can’t let you go through,” Diomedes said, his voice steady and resolute.

Nathan growled, raising his sword to strike. But before he could move, a hand descended on Diomedes’ shoulder.

It was Poseidon.

The sea god’s presence radiated divine power, his gaze cold and condescending as he looked past Diomedes toward Nathan. With a casual gesture, Poseidon imbued Diomedes with his blessing.

Nathan’s heart sank. “Fuck…”

Diomedes, now bolstered by the god’s power, became a blur of motion. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Nathan, moving with unnatural speed. Nathan barely had time to react before Diomedes’ sword pierced his shoulder, the blade sinking deep.

Pain flared through Nathan’s body, but he gritted his teeth, shifting his stance. With a desperate burst of strength, he drove his foot into Diomedes’ side. The kick connected with brutal force, sending the warrior staggering slightly.

But Diomedes barely wavered, the divine blessing rendering him nearly impervious.

“Celestial rank magic,” Diomedes intoned, his voice ringing with power as he began to channel an attack.

Nathan’s eyes widened in alarm. With Poseidon’s blessing, Diomedes wasn’t just powerful—he was now capable of unleashing a flawless Celestial-rank spell. At this range, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Nathan tried to dodge, but before he could move, tendrils of water shot out from the ground, wrapping around his legs and arms. The liquid coiled tightly, freezing him in place.

Nathan didn’t need to look to know who was responsible.

Poseidon stood nearby, his smirk filled with mockery and satisfaction.

“Goodbye.”

Nathan struggled, but the water was unyielding, its grip reinforced by Poseidon’s divine will.

“Kingly Sword!” Diomedes shouted as he brought his weapon down in a deadly arc.

Nathan could do nothing but brace himself. The blade tore through his armor with ease, and blood erupted from the deep gash across his chest.