"I want the Greeks to lose in the most humiliating and painful way possible."
Apollo's smile grew broader at Nathan's words, and for once, the god of light knew he was in the presence of a kindred spirit—or perhaps, a formidable ally. He could see it in Nathan's icy gaze, a simmering dislike that edged into something darker. Though that seething hatred seemed especially reserved for Ajax and Agamemnon, Apollo knew it could easily extend to all those Greeks too.
This disdain was genuine; Apollo could sense the truth in it, and he relished the opportunity. With Heiron, he might just have found a trump card against the Greeks, one that not even Athena or Hera had foreseen. But there was still one crucial step left. If he wanted Heiron's full cooperation, Apollo needed to offer him something first, a favor so grand that it would bind the mortal's loyalty to him.
With confidence radiating from his golden form, Apollo's voice resonated with divine authority as he spoke. "For your deeds in Lyrnessus, for bringing back Astynome, I shall reward you. Name anything, and I will grant it to the best of my abilities." His tone was magnanimous, as though he could move mountains with a mere nod.
Nathan's face remained expressionless, and a silence hung between them. Apollo, misinterpreting this as hesitation, leaned closer, his voice persuasive. "Ask for anything—riches beyond measure, a kingdom, even a woman you desire. If there's someone who has caught your eye, I can arrange it." He was confident, almost smug. As the god of light, Apollo believed no woman would dare refuse a match he proposed. Any mortal would surely bend to his will in gratitude.
But none of this interested Nathan. Instead, he lifted his arm and rolled back his sleeve, revealing wounds laced with ominous black lines snaking up his skin.
Apollo's blue eyes widened, his confident smile faltering as he recognized the unmistakable mark of death inching its way through Nathan's body. "This is..." he murmured, trailing off, a look of genuine shock breaking through his godly composure.
"I'm dying," Nathan said calmly, his voice resolute but laced with a weariness that spoke of countless battles waged against this inevitable fate. "At best, I have a week, maybe just a few days."
The silence that followed was thick, laden with unspoken truths. Apollo stared at the dark veins with a mix of intrigue and horror, realizing the mortal's body was all but shattered. The only reason he had endured so long was through sheer willpower and the energy he had drawn from Khione. Recently, enslaving Amaterasu had granted him a few precious days more, but even that was waning. His body was at its limit, fraying at the edges like a candle burned at both ends.
Apollo narrowed his gaze, his mind churning. For thousands of years, he had seen men driven to desperation, and he knew the signs. "You've sacrificed your very life force for something, haven't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he pieced together the mystery.
Nathan nodded his head. "I did," he confirmed but offered no further explanation.
Apollo's frown deepened as he studied the dark, intricate marks spiraling up Nathan's arms, their blackened lines twisting like the roots of some ancient curse. He shook his head, his face troubled.
"I may be a god," he said slowly, "but what you're asking me to do would mean defying death and time itself." His voice was unusually cautious, each word weighed as though it might tip some cosmic scale.
Nathan's gaze was unwavering, a cold determination set within his eyes. "Yes," he replied, a hint of challenge in his voice, "but the God of Light I've heard of can do something about that, can't he?"
Nathan's words struck at Apollo's pride, and for a brief moment, a gleam of amusement sparked in the god's eyes. He was one of the most powerful deities in the Greek pantheon, revered and feared, so much so that even Hera and Athena stepped carefully around him. Without him, the Greeks' assured advantage over the Trojans could falter. Aphrodite herself had hinted at Apollo's unique powers when Nathan had sought her counsel, and even Khione had alluded to it.
A slow, almost mocking smile crept onto Apollo's lips. "Perhaps I can do something," he admitted. "But it's not a simple fix, mortal. The kind of power you're asking for would take more than a day, more than a week... it could take months, even years." He let the weight of this sink in, watching as Nathan's brow furrowed.
Nathan's jaw tightened, frustration evident in the taut lines of his face. Time was not a luxury he possessed. At most, he had a few days left, and even that was slipping through his fingers.
Nathan tensed, trying to move back, but before he could react, Apollo's hand was already on his head, bathing him in radiant light. A warmth washed through Nathan, and he felt the burning ache in his arms ease as the dark marks receded, retreating from his skin like shadows at dawn.
"What...?" Nathan looked down, astonished to see the blackened wounds fading. He felt stronger, his energy restored as if a great burden had been lifted.
"Five months," Apollo said, his voice steady.
"Five months?" Nathan echoed, scarcely daring to believe it.
"I've granted you five more months, that's the most I can do for you, " Apollo replied. "That should be enough time for me to find a way to help you fully."
A renewed determination filled Nathan, and he clenched his fists, feeling his strength surge. The god's power was real, coursing through him, fortifying him. For now, he had been granted a reprieve.
Apollo's expression grew serious, his piercing gaze locking onto Nathan's. "There is one condition, though," he said firmly. "Hector. He must not die."
Nathan held Apollo's gaze, recognizing the intensity of the command. It was more than a request; it was an order. Apollo was entrusting him with a piece of Troy's survival in his absence.
"Hector is Troy's hope, its will, its reason to fight," Apollo continued, his voice carrying an almost paternal gravity. "Protect him."
Nathan nodded, a silent promise passing between them. "He won't fall. I'll make sure of it."
That was the least he could do in exchange of saving his own life.
Satisfied, Apollo turned to face Aphrodite and Artemis, who awaited his final words. Read exclusive chapters at m_v-l'-NovelFire
"I'm leaving Troy in your hands," he said.
Artemis nodded solemnly, her bow held close to her side. "You can count on me," she replied, her tone resolute.
Aphrodite met Apollo's gaze, a hint of worry in her eyes. She knew, perhaps better than the others, where he intended to go and the dangers that awaited him.
"Be careful," she murmured, her voice soft yet tinged with unmistakable concern.
Apollo gave her a reassuring smile, then with a final glance at the others, he vanished, his golden form dissolving into the air, leaving Troy and its fate resting in the hands of his allies.