57) I am coming with you
...
{3rd Pov}
As Ember finalized his preparations to return to Shawn Village, making arrangements and informing the necessary people about his temporary departure, he was suddenly met with an unexpected announcement.
“Athy will come with you, bro! It’s also been ages since I met Dawn!” Athena declared cheerfully, as if she were suggesting a casual stroll rather than abandoning an entire nation.
The reaction was immediate.
Her familia members stared at her as if she had just declared war on the Heavens.
Merina was the first to snap out of her shock.
“No! Goddess, you cannot leave Altena! Are you out of your mind?!” she exclaimed, stepping forward without caring about formalities.
It wasn’t just her.
Every core member present looked horrified.
“Goddess… you are planning to leave Altena?” Amphithea asked, her voice trembling with disbelief.
“You do realize that you are the supreme ruler of Altena, correct?”
The weight of her words hung heavily in the room.
Athena was not merely a symbolic figurehead.
She was the backbone of the nation.
The entire Athena Familia revolved around her leadership, her wisdom, and her authority.
Altena itself—its military, its research divisions, its governance structure—had been shaped under her direct guidance.
If anything happened to her, the consequences would not be limited to internal chaos.
More than a million people depended on her existence.
Her presence deterred enemies.
Her name alone prevented invasions. Her strategic mind kept rival nations cautious.
If she suddenly disappeared—even temporarily—it could destabilize political alliances and invite opportunistic threats.
The room grew tense.
Ember, standing to the side, blinked in surprise.
He had not expected this development at all.
Meanwhile, Athena crossed her arms and pouted slightly, as if they were overreacting to something trivial.
“What? It’s not like I’m abdicating. I’m just going for a short visit,” she said, as though that solved everything.
Her familia members looked like they were about to collectively collapse from stress.
"You know what that entails right?" Amphithea asked.
“Of course I realize that,” Athena replied immediately, crossing her arms as if the matter were obvious.
“But I’ve been bored staying in this place day and night! It’s been hundreds of years since I properly left Altena, and probably a few dozen years since I even stepped outside the palace!”
She said it cheerfully.
The room, however, went silent.
Everyone froze.
The weight of her words hit them one by one, and the realization settled in heavily.
Ember’s mouth practically fell open.
He knew gods were immortal, and he understood that their sense of time was completely different from mortals—but hearing her casually mention staying confined to one city for centuries was something else entirely.
Centuries.
And decades without even leaving the palace grounds.
If that had been him, he would have already snapped long ago.
In fact, he was fairly certain he would have burned down the entire palace in frustration, probably while dramatically singing some villain monologue just for effect and emotional release like a Disney villain.
Ahem.
Meanwhile, her familia members looked horrified—not because they doubted her words, but because they knew they were true.
Athena rarely traveled.
Her responsibilities had slowly turned into invisible chains.
“Goddess… that is not the point,” Merina said, trying to keep her composure.
“You chose that responsibility. The nation depends on you. Your presence alone deters enemies.”
“And you think I don’t know that?” Athena shot back, though there was no anger in her voice—just irritation mixed with exhaustion.
“But I am not abandoning Altena. I’m saying I want to travel for a short while. The world will not collapse if I step away briefly.”
Her words were casual, but the implications were not.
Amphithea pressed her lips together.
“With respect, Goddess, even a short absence could create instability. Rumors alone could cause unrest.”
Ember finally found his voice.
“Wait… you’re seriously planning to leave the entire nation to go on a trip?” he asked cautiously.
Athena turned toward him with a bright smile.
“Yes. With you.”
That only made the room’s tension increase.
For her familia members, this wasn’t just boredom.
This was their ruler, their divine pillar, casually suggesting she take a vacation after centuries of self-imposed confinement—and specifically to accompany a mortal man who was already married to another goddess.
From their perspective, this was escalating fast.
“Goddess! It’s official!” Ember suddenly declared, as if he had just reached a monumental conclusion.
He pointed a finger at Athena, his expression a strange mix of pity, seriousness, and theatrical authority—like someone about to deliver an ultimate truth of the universe.
“You need to touch grass.”
“Huh?”
The others stared at him in complete confusion.
The way he said it sounded oddly profound, almost divine in tone, yet none of them understood what he meant.
The phrase carried the weight of revelation, but the content made absolutely no sense to them.
Athena, however, froze for only a second before her eyes lit up dramatically.
“Yeah!!!! Broooo!!! YOU ARE THE GOAT!” she shouted, clapping her hands as if he had just delivered enlightenment straight from the Heavens.
She even did a small celebratory spin on the spot, her energy exploding outward in pure excitement.
“It is time my divine wisdom touches grass and becomes greener than ever!” she proclaimed proudly, puffing out her chest and nodding with exaggerated solemnity, as though she had just accepted a sacred calling.
The room fell silent.
Merina slowly turned her head toward Amphithea.
Amphithea blinked.
Arcesius looked like he had just lost the will to process information.
The entire exchange felt like two beings communicating on a wavelength that no one else could tune into.
“What… just happened?” someone muttered under their breath.
Meanwhile, Gandalf stepped forward, stroking his beard thoughtfully. His face was completely serious.
“Goddess, if you truly wish to ‘touch grass,’ why don’t we simply install grass across the palace floor?” he suggested earnestly.
“We could renovate the courtyard and bring natural soil indoors. That would solve the issue without you leaving Altena.”
He genuinely believed he had just proposed a brilliant compromise.
The rest of the room stared at him.
Ember closed his eyes briefly.
Athena looked at Gandalf the way a strict teacher would look at a student who had confidently written the wrong answer and still expected praise.
There was disappointment, disbelief, and just a hint of secondhand embarrassment in her gaze.
Then she ignored him entirely.
“Bro! I already planned the route! Look at this!” she announced excitedly, clapping her hands twice.
At once, two maids entered silently, pushing in a wheeled table.
Spread across it was a massive, detailed map of the surrounding nations and territories.
“Goddess, you cannot be serious,” Arcesius said the moment he saw it.
Instead of drawing a direct, efficient line toward Shawn Village, Athena had clearly marked a long, winding route that curved far away from the obvious path.
“First,” Athena said sternly, raising a finger, “stop repeating yourselves like NPCs.”
Her familia members instantly went silent, their faces stiff with embarrassment.
Unfortunately for them, they knew exactly what “NPC” meant, and none of them appreciated the comparison.
“Secondly,” she continued, shifting into explanation mode, “Karuna City is completely demolished. Even if the Behemoth’s poison has dissipated, there may still be residual contamination. More importantly, that entire area has likely been seized by The Empire. Alf’s Forest is also on high alert due to its proximity to the disaster zone.”
She traced the destroyed region with her finger on the map.
“That eliminates the most direct route.”
Everyone leaned closer despite themselves.
“That leaves us with two viable options,” she went on.
“The first route follows the river that runs alongside Wishe and the edge of Alf’s Forest. From there, it heads toward Orario, passes through the mountain range, and then finally loops back down toward Tet’s village.”
As they followed the line she drew, their expressions grew complicated.
The route was long.
Very long.
Traveling that way would take significantly more time than the direct path.
“The second route,” Athena continued, sliding her finger across the map in a different direction, “goes through several cities of the Empire. Unlike Karuna, those cities are not sensitive areas right now. We would not trigger military alarms just by our presence alone. And this path would get us to Tet’s village much faster.”
Her tone was calm, logical, precise.
Ember listened silently.
He had to admit she was right.
When he originally planned to return alone, he had not been concerned about sensitive territories.
With his Level 3 physical prowess and magic, he could have slipped through unstable regions quickly.
Even if there were patrols or residual threats, he was confident in handling them.
But if Athena was coming with him, the situation changed entirely.
They could not afford unnecessary risks.
They could not draw attention.
“Not to mention,” Ember added thoughtfully, “the route toward Orario has way more familias operating in that region. If we’re unlucky, we could even run into Kali Familia.”
The room went quiet at that.
Everyone knew what that implied.
Suddenly, Athena’s proposed route did not look impulsive or reckless at all.
It looked calculated and well thought out as expected from a Goddess of Wisdom like her.
“Wait—did you seriously think about leaving Altena, Goddess?” Autolycus blurted out, staring at her in disbelief.
“Did you just forget the fact that mortals and other gods can instantly tell you’re a god?!”
His voice rose slightly as he continued, unable to contain his shock.
“Whenever a mortal stands in the presence of a divine being, their instincts react. They feel it. Even if they can’t explain it, they know. It’s impossible to completely mask that presence. And other gods? They’ll recognize you immediately.”
He wasn’t exaggerating.
Mortals, when encountering a god for the first time, often felt an overwhelming instinctual reaction—fear, reverence, pressure, awe.
Even if they eventually grew accustomed to a god’s presence, that initial difference was unmistakable.
A god standing among mortals was like a blazing torch in darkness.
You could not simply ignore it.
At least, that was what most people believed.
Athena, however, burst into laughter.
“You people really have no faith in me, do you?” she said, placing her hands on her hips with mock offense.
“I am the strongest Shield Goddess in the entire Heavens. Concealing my true identity is as easy as breathing for me.”
Her tone carried pride—not arrogance without substance, but confidence backed by experience.
“Even Erebus took lessons from me in Heaven,” she added smugly.
“He specifically asked me to teach him how to properly restrain his Divine Aura. I practically gave him a masterclass.”
The room went quiet again.
That statement was not something she would lie about casually.
If she truly could suppress her divine presence to that extent, then traveling in disguise might not be as impossible as they feared.
Ember’s eyes twitched slightly at the mention of Erebus.
As a reincarnator, he possessed knowledge from his previous life—specifically from the anime and stories related to this world.
And from what he remembered, Erebus would eventually become one of the central figures behind Evilus.
His entire philosophy revolved around pushing mankind into despair so that true heroes could rise before the “promised time.”
It was twisted, manipulative and ruthlessly pragmatic.
But there was one particular detail that stood out in Ember’s memory.
Erebus was fully capable of hiding the fact that he was a God.
He had once appeared in the lower world under the identity of a normal human named “Eren.” No divine pressure.
No obvious aura.
No glaring presence screaming divinity.
He blended in.
‘Damn… did Eren Jaeger reincarnate into Erebus?’ Ember thought seriously for a moment.
‘Because honestly, this feels exactly like something Eren would do.’
He couldn’t help the comparison.
A radical mindset.
A willingness to plunge the world into chaos for the sake of a future he believed in.
The obsession with “freedom” and forcing growth through suffering.
It lined up uncomfortably well.
To be fair, Ember’s understanding of divine origins was limited.
From what he knew, gods didn’t have parents.
They weren’t born in the traditional sense. They simply blinked into existence in the Heavens.
They also couldn’t sire children—neither with other gods nor with humans.
That raised an uncomfortable question.
How were they created?
Did the Heavens pull mortal souls from other worlds and transform them into gods?
Was divinity some kind of recycled existence? If that were the case…
Then the idea of Erebus once being Eren Jaeger wasn’t completely impossible.
‘Tatake,’ Ember thought automatically, the word surfacing from memory before he shook his head.
Even for him, that line of reasoning was too ridiculous.
(A/N: Decipher Skill: Mtf! I just gave you the biggest hint of your life! FCK YOU SISTERFUCKER!)
“Look at this!” Athena grinned confidently.
The very next moment, the white luster of her hair faded.
It didn’t dim gradually—it shifted instantly, turning into plain, ordinary black.
At the same time, the subtle divine pressure that always lingered around her completely vanished.
The room went dead silent.
Her familia members stared at her in shock.
There was no divine aura.
No instinctive pressure.
No overwhelming presence that made mortals subconsciously straighten their backs.
She felt… normal.
Ember’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
Because the resemblance was uncanny.
Just like Athena had turned her hair black to conceal her identity, he had done the exact same thing.
He had dyed his own hair black while leaving his eye color unchanged.
Fortunately, blue eyes were not particularly rare in this world, so he hadn’t needed to worry too much about that detail.
Still, one thing had always bothered him.
He didn’t know how to change his eye color.
There were no contact lenses in this world, and unless he used magic, altering such a detail wasn’t simple.
Now, watching Athena suppress both her divine aura and change her hair color so effortlessly, a thought surfaced in his mind.
‘Does Athy know my true identity? The fact that I’m Ember?’
The parallels were too similar to ignore.
He had suppressed his High-Elf heritage instinctively, keeping it controlled so that its full presence wouldn’t alert nearby elves.
If left unchecked, his lineage would be obvious to those sensitive to such things.
The way he restrained it wasn’t divine, but it was deliberate.
And Athena had just done something remarkably close to that—on a far more advanced level.
Was it coincidence?
Or had she already noticed something?
Around him, the others were still gasping in disbelief at her transformation, marveling at how completely she had erased her divine signature.
Meanwhile, Ember’s thoughts ran deeper.
If she could suppress her divine aura this thoroughly, then detecting subtle anomalies—like a reincarnator hiding his true self—would not be beyond her capabilities.
The similarities were so precise that he couldn’t help but feel slightly uneasy.
Had the Goddess of Wisdom already figured him out?
‘Of course she’s the Goddess of Wisdom. She must have realized who I am from miles away,’ Ember thought grimly.
Still, he decided not to act on that assumption. If Athena truly knew, she would bring it up when she wanted to.
There was no point in exposing himself first.
Whether Athy had figured it out or not didn’t really matter in the immediate sense.
What mattered was everyone else.
Merina. Arcesius. Amphithea.
They absolutely could not discover his true identity as the Elven prince who had run away from the Alf’s Forest.
Because from their perspective, he was already a destabilizing element in Altena.
A mysterious outsider who had grown suspiciously close to their Goddess.
If they learned that he was not only a runaway but royalty from another major power, the political implications would explode instantly.
And worse—under the pretext of being “faithful allies” to his father, the King—they might very well decide to return him.
Not out of malice.
But out of duty.
They could easily justify it as strengthening diplomatic relations.
They could frame it as honoring royal bonds.
And once that decision was made, they wouldn’t send him back casually.
They would escort him under heavy protection and he will be trapped in Alf's forest again—likely guarded by Level 5s or even Level 6s this time.
At that point, escaping again would be nearly impossible.
He might not escape ever again.
So for now, silence was the best option.
However, what Ember didn’t know was something far more ironic.
Athena had absolutely no clue about his true identity.
None.
Zero.
Yes, if she had chosen to analyze him seriously, she could probably deduce it within ten minutes.
The inconsistencies, the restraint in his aura, the subtle royal mannerisms—none of it was beyond her capacity to notice.
But the problem was simple.
Her mind was not focused on conducting a deep background investigation.
Her mind was currently occupied with far more chaotic priorities.
Specifically, how to keep him close.
And, if possible—
Cough.
Win his heart.
So while Ember was mentally preparing for a grand revelation from the Goddess of Wisdom, Athena had never even bothered to dig that far into his past.
She simply didn’t care about his lineage.
She cared about him.
Which, ironically, made the situation both safer and far more dangerous at the same time.
“But it’s still dangerous! Goddess, if anything happens to you, our entire nation will be doomed!” Amphithea argued urgently, stepping forward despite herself. Her usual composure had completely cracked.
“Yes, this is not a trivial matter,” Arcesius added immediately, nodding in agreement.
“And what exactly are we supposed to tell the other government officials? You cannot simply vanish without explanation.”
Their concerns were not exaggerated.
Athena wasn’t just a symbolic ruler.
She was the pillar that held Altena together—militarily, politically, intellectually.
Her presence alone discouraged enemies from even considering aggression.
If word spread that she had left the capital, it could cause panic, speculation, or worse—opportunistic attacks.
Athena, however, did not look remotely shaken.
Without even blinking, she glanced toward the two maids standing silently beside the wheeled table.
“I have made Divine Oaths with these maids,” she said casually.
“They cannot speak of this to anyone else.”
The room went silent again.
Everyone gasped.
Divine Oaths were not casual agreements.
They were absolute.
They were typically the result of War Games between familias, binding contracts enforced by divine authority itself.
They were unbreakable—even by gods.
Once sworn, there was no loophole.
The maids bowed slightly, their expressions calm, as if being bound by an irreversible divine contract was just another part of their job description.
Athena then waved her hand dismissively.
“As for the officials, just inform them that I am in secluded experimental mode.”
A few of her familia members blinked.
Then they slowly realized… that would actually work.
Athena had a long-standing habit of isolating herself for months at a time for research.
She would disappear into her chambers, refuse audiences, and reemerge only when she had completed whatever project had consumed her attention.
The palace staff and government were already accustomed to it.
Suspicion would be minimal.
“…That is technically believable,” Arcesius admitted reluctantly.
Merina pressed her lips together.
“Believable does not mean safe.”
“Yes, another matter remains,” Autolycus said firmly, his gaze shifting toward Ember.
“I do not believe a Level 2 can adequately protect you, Goddess.”
He pointed directly at Ember as he spoke.
On the surface, his concern was completely valid.
Athena’s safety was not a personal issue—it was a national one.
If anything happened to her while traveling, the consequences would extend far beyond personal loss.
The entire kingdom of Altena would be thrown into instability.
But beneath that rational argument, there was something else.
Autolycus had a crush on Athena.
It wasn’t something he ever admitted out loud, but it wasn’t exactly hidden either.
Among the core members of her familia, it was an open secret.
And honestly, who wouldn’t fall for her?
She was the embodiment of Wisdom itself.
She truly lived up to her title.
Her intelligence was unmatched, her strategic mind terrifying, and her presence commanding.
At the same time, her beauty rivaled that of Aphrodite.
Her dignified, serious demeanor combined with her occasional childish bursts of energy made her incredibly captivating.
Autolycus, as a Level 4 and one of her trusted core members, had more proximity to her than most.
He appreciated her beauty, but he was always careful—very careful—not to stare in a way that could be interpreted as disrespectful.
Because even admiration had limits.
And Athena had zero tolerance for anything that crossed into creepiness.
Still, watching her change so drastically in front of Ember—sharing physical closeness, sitting on his lap, clinging to him casually—had stirred something unpleasant inside him.
Jealousy.
Even if he believed that Athena had no romantic feelings for Tet—something that was now very wrong—he couldn’t ignore the way she treated him differently from everyone else.
It bothered him.
A lot.
And now, hearing that she planned to travel with Ember alone?
That crossed a line for him.
So beneath the layer of “national security,” Autolycus had another motive.
If Athena was leaving Altena for the first time in decades, he would not allow himself to miss the opportunity.
He would accompany her.
As her protector.
As a Level 4.
And, perhaps, as someone who refused to let an unknown outsider stand too close to his Goddess without scrutiny.
“I choose you!” Athena suddenly declared, pointing her finger dramatically across the room.
Arcesius blinked in confusion before looking behind him to see if she meant someone else.
“Me?” he asked cautiously.
“You want me to be your bodyguard?”
“Yup!” Athena replied instantly, not even sparing a glance toward Autolycus.
Autolycus’ jaw tightened slightly.
Of course, Athena knew about his crush.
She wasn’t blind.
She was the Goddess of Wisdom.
She noticed everything.
And more importantly, this entire outing had never been random.
While everything she said about the route was technically true, it had also been carefully calculated.
She had mixed facts with intention.
Yes, the Empire route was safer politically. Yes, the Orario route carried additional risks. But the cities she had selected along the way?
They weren’t just strategic checkpoints.
They were perfect spots for “coincidental” couple outings.
Scenic river views.
Festivals in mid-sized Imperial cities.
Quiet inns with decent privacy.
Everything had been planned.
Everything had been deliberate.
She wanted to win Tet’s heart.
With her own wisdom.
And that meant eliminating interference.
First, Autolycus.
He had a crush on her and would absolutely try to hover.
Worse, he would act overly protective and potentially sabotage any opportunity for intimacy.
He would absolutely ruin the mood.
Next, Amphithea and Merina.
Both were competent, loyal, and intelligent—but they were also women.
While the chances of them falling for Ember were low, they were not zero.
Athena was not willing to take that risk.
Then Gandalf.
Well.
He was Gandalf.
No further reasoning required.
Finally, Arcesius.
Arcesius had a quiet crush on Amphithea and treated Athena more like a distant mother figure than a romantic interest.
He was disciplined, practical, and not prone to emotional interference.
He was also strong enough to fulfill bodyguard duties without complaint.
And, in Athena’s entirely biased internal assessment, as an Elf with his current temperament, he was unlikely to cause “unexpected romantic complications.”
By all measurable standards—
He was perfect.
Arcesius, meanwhile, had no idea he had just been selected through a divine-level matchmaking filtration system.
He simply nodded slowly, processing the responsibility.
“If that is your command, Goddess,” he said seriously, placing a hand over his chest.
Autolycus tried not to look like he had just lost a war.
Athena smiled brightly.
Step one: interference minimized.
“Leave it. I will come,” Merina said firmly, stepping forward and cutting into the conversation without hesitation.
Athena immediately turned toward her.
“Wait, this is—”
Merina shot her a glare sharp enough to silence even a Goddess of Wisdom.
Athena actually stopped mid-sentence.
The room went quiet again.
Ember scratched his cheek awkwardly, watching the exchange.
From his perspective, Athena choosing Arcesius earlier had only reinforced the idea that she didn’t harbor any romantic feelings toward him.
If she had, wouldn’t she have tried harder to keep rivals away instead of selecting people at random?
He had no idea how wrong that conclusion was.
“I am the strongest among us,” Merina continued in a no-nonsense tone.
“If anyone is to accompany the Goddess outside Altena, it should be me.”
Her logic was airtight.
Merina was the strongest core member of Athena’s familia.
From a purely practical standpoint, she was the most suitable escort.
Her presence alone would deter threats, and if anything did happen, she was more than capable of handling it.
Athena clicked her tongue internally.
Merina was the only one who could speak to her like that and get away with it.
As the strongest member of her familia and one of her earliest companions in the current familia generation, Merina had earned a certain privilege.
If she insisted on going for security reasons, even Athena had limited grounds to object.
Outwardly, Athena crossed her arms and looked slightly annoyed.
Inwardly, her thoughts were much more petty.
‘Whatever. There is no way this granny is falling for my Tet. Hmph.’
She mentally planted a flag of victory.
From her perspective, Merina was safe.
Completely safe.
There was zero chance of romantic interference there.
Her wisdom, it seemed, had certain blind spots when jealousy and possessiveness were involved and with that silent resolution made, the travel party was unofficially set.
To be continued…