I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Nathan froze, completely and utterly stunned.

Hidden in the deep shadows behind a jagged wall of the cavern, his breath caught in his throat. The air was thick with moisture and the faint scent of burnt wax, the only light in the gloom emanating from flickering candles arranged in a ritualistic circle. He peered cautiously from behind the rock, narrowing his eyes at the group gathered in the dim cavern chamber ahead.

His gaze fixed on the man standing at the center.

Bathed in the soft, golden flicker of candlelight, the man’s features were partially obscured by the dancing shadows. Yet, what little Nathan could see sent a tremor through his chest. The man’s jet-black hair, that sharp jawline, and—most unsettling of all—his eyes. Golden, demonic, and hauntingly familiar.

Those eyes… they were too much like Nathan’s own.

And that face—he couldn’t look away. It stirred something deep within him, something buried. There was a resemblance, uncanny and unmistakable, to a man Nathan had not seen in what felt like lifetimes: his father.

Not as he last remembered him, older and wearied by time, but as a younger man—ten, maybe fifteen years younger. The image burned in Nathan’s mind like a ghost risen from memory. Even the way the man stood, the posture, the faint frown lines etched near the brow… it was like watching a specter from the past reborn.

But it couldn’t be. His father was still on Earth, still alive. Nathan knew this. And yet, the uncanny likeness stirred something wild and restless in his chest.

For the first time in what felt like ages, his heartbeat quickened—not from fear, but from a deep, wrenching dissonance. A surge of emotion he hadn’t anticipated. Nostalgia, confusion, and a gnawing curiosity all churned inside him.

It couldn’t be a coincidence.

Not anymore.

He had long since abandoned belief in coincidences. Not after discovering Ayaka and Akane had been summoned as well. Not after learning Phoebe, of all people, was here too. No—there was a pattern. A greater scheme at work. One Nathan still couldn’t fully grasp.

He took a silent breath and tightened his grip on the jagged stone edge, forcing his thoughts into silence. Whatever his shock, whatever his questions—he had to listen.

The man—Aaron, they would later call him—chuckled lightly, his voice rich with irony.

“It was to be expected,” he said, his tone confident and calm. “It’s been two years since they were summoned… yet they’re still so far behind. What took us a few months, they haven’t even scratched.”

Another voice answered him, a woman’s—calm, cold, and cloaked in shadow. “In our time, we were already facing the Demon King’s armies. We fought on the front lines. Bled, killed, survived. And what have they been doing?” she asked scornfully. “Playing adventurers? Training in comfort while the world burns?”

Nathan couldn’t make out her face beneath her hood, but she sounded no older than her mid-twenties. Like the others, she bore the presence of someone seasoned by battle—someone who had known suffering and purpose.

The thought flickered again in Nathan’s mind: were these the remnants of the Second Summoning? Survivors from the previous cycle of the Light Empire’s machinations?

More importantly—where was the man who had kidnapped Ameriah and Auria? The one Nathan had seen at Tenebria. That man… wasn’t here.

As his eyes darted from one figure to the next, the hooded man he had followed earlier finally spoke, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“They’ll be easy to manipulate,” he murmured. “I’m sure Caesar realized that the moment he laid eyes on them.”

A murmur passed through the gathered figures.

Another hooded silhouette, taller than the rest and standing slightly apart from the circle, spoke up.

“Can we even trust Caesar, Aaron?”

There it was—the name. Aaron.

The leader. The one who looked eerily like Nathan’s father.

Aaron turned toward the speaker. “Still doubting after all these years, Thomas?” he said with a dry chuckle. “It’s been five years since we awakened. Caesar’s done exactly as promised—rising through Rome’s hierarchy faster than any of us expected. He’s loyal. He’ll deliver what we need.”

“Maybe so,” Thomas replied evenly, “but Ethan, Olivia, and the others won’t stay quiet. It’s been five years since we parted ways—and not on good terms. They know what you’re after, Aaron. And they’re not fools.”

The woman in the hood nodded in agreement, folding her arms. “They’ll act, and when they do, we’d best be ready.”

Aaron only laughed—a soft, unsettling sound that echoed faintly against the damp stone walls.

“You worry too much, Lilia,” he said, smiling as he gazed around at his gathered companions. “But shouldn’t we be happy?”

He paused. The room grew still, heavy with implication.

“After five long years… we’ll finally be reunited with our dear classmates. The ones still alive.”

If there had been any lingering doubt, it was gone now.

Nathan’s breath slowed, his heartbeat calm but cold as steel. His mind, though swarming with thoughts, settled on one chilling certainty: these six individuals were undoubtedly Heroes—summoned during the Second Summoning orchestrated by the Light Empire.

But something else tugged at Nathan’s mind. Something deeper.

Aaron—if that was truly his name—had spoken of others. Another group. A splintered faction of classmates from the same summoning who had, for whatever reason, diverged from this path. Enemies? Rivals? Or simply people unwilling to follow Aaron’s ambitions?

Nathan didn’t know. Not yet.

But one thing was clear—there were fractures among the old Heroes. And in the heart of it all stood Caesar.

Nathan furrowed his brow, thoughts racing.

Caesar… who had slithered his way through Rome’s power structure like a serpent hidden in plain sight. These people had waited—planned—for Caesar’s rise. And that rise wasn’t complete. Not yet.

There were still obstacles.

Crassus, that old Roman general still held sway. And more importantly, the Pope of the Church of Athena remained untouched—unmoved from his throne of influence. That fact made Nathan’s blood run colder.

Why had Caesar only asked him to remove Crassus?

Why not the Pope?

What was Caesar waiting for?

A better opportunity? Something only he could do?

Or was there some unspoken limit… a rule, divine or political, that Caesar dared not break?

A voice echoed in the chamber, dragging Nathan from his thoughts.

“I’m not eager to meet them again,” Lilia said softly, almost mournfully.

Her voice rang with familiarity, perhaps regret, as though the weight of memory still lingered behind her every word.

“I agree,” another cloaked figure chimed in, arms crossed tightly. “If it comes to a fight… we’ll suffer great losses.”

Aaron—unshaken, unbothered—merely smiled.

“Do not worry about them,” he said, his golden eyes gleaming in the firelight. “We already anticipated their intervention. Ethan… Olivia… they’ll come, but we’ll be ready. We’ve remained hidden from the gods for long enough. Now, the time has come to reveal ourselves.”

His voice darkened, eyes gleaming with conviction.

“Our plan is unfolding perfectly. Soon, we’ll wield the power of the Box of Pandora.”

Nathan’s eyes widened.

That name again.

Pandora.

And her box.

The ancient myth echoed through his mind like a thunderclap—an artifact tied to catastrophe, said to contain the evils of the world, the temptations and plagues that once shattered civilizations. The fact that these people, former heroes of light, were after that power…

The implications were terrifying.

And yet, things were beginning to make a twisted kind of sense.

Pieces of a vast, maddening puzzle started aligning in his mind. There were still blanks, still jagged edges that didn’t fit—but the outline was becoming clearer.

“Enough,” Aaron said, standing from the stone he had been seated on. “We’ve lingered too long.”

As one, four of the cloaked figures beside him vanished—silent as smoke in the wind.

Only Aaron and Logan remained.

Aaron turned toward the cave’s exit, but not before glancing sideways at his companion. A knowing smirk danced at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t forget to deal with the rats who’ve been eavesdropping,” he said quietly. “Logan.”

Then, like the others, he vanished.

Logan, however, remained—turning slowly.

Not toward the empty cavern.

But directly toward Nathan.

The pale flicker of candlelight caught the edge of his face as he lowered his hood, revealing a shock of stark black hair and cold red eyes that shimmered like rubies in the dark.

Nathan’s heart skipped a beat—not from fear, but from surprise.

He noticed me?

Aaron, perhaps, had the power to sense even the most carefully hidden of intruders—but Logan? Nathan had been perfectly still, his mana suppressed, his aura masked.

Unless—

“He noticed us, Elin!” a voice whispered behind him, low but urgent. “Get ready!”

Another voice followed, nervous and shaken. “Y–Yes…!”

Nathan spun around to see two familiar figures emerging from the shadows behind him.

Of course.

They had followed him.

He clenched his jaw. They really jumped through the portal after me… Why? What the hell are they doing here?

But he had no time to ask. No time to be angry.

Now was not the moment for questions. Survival came first.

Nathan stepped from the shadows into the open, facing Logan directly. His expression was calm, even as the tension in the air grew dense.

Logan tilted his head, expression curious—almost amused.

“Hm,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “I recognize the girls. But you… you’re a mystery.”

He stepped forward, the cavern’s silence broken only by his boots scraping against the stone.

“You’re Septimius, aren’t you? Or rather… posing as him?” Logan asked with a knowing sneer. “Strange. What are you doing with them? Spying on us? Has Caesar sent you?”

Nathan sighed inwardly. The moment had come.

No more hiding. No more waiting.

Logan knew too much—and Nathan couldn’t let that knowledge walk away.

He didn’t speak. He simply shifted his stance, his magic beginning to stir, quietly but potently.

There would be no negotiations.

Only one solution remained.

Logan had to die.