The only lesson humanity can draw from history is that humans never learn from history.
Even with divine prophecies and oracles, has it ever stopped people from defying the will of the gods?
Those who went against the divine will and met tragic fates became part of Greek mythology itself.
Despite prophecies foretelling that no one could stand against the might of the supreme hero, humanity remained stubbornly defiant.
They rallied together, reassuring each other, clinging to one another like ants building a complex nest, as though mocking the simplicity of human dwellings.
They, too, would overthrow the "dictator" Suren.
Suren had never denied the title of "dictator." He accepted it with pride, never hiding the fact that he was, indeed, the ultimate tyrant.
But the line between tyrant and wise ruler is a fine one, and though a tyrant, he was the most benevolent, the greatest autocrat.
When nearly all of Greece rebelled against him, Suren barely paid it any mind. He sat atop his Golden Zenith, capable of wiping out every last noble of the old order across Greece in a single day. Yet he chose restraint.
Instead, he unleashed Heracles—the hero who had completed the Twelve Labors—upon the rebels. Against the might of Heracles, Greece's resistance was crushed with ease.
Only Suren himself could subdue this berserker driven to the edge by bloodlust.
With Heracles's overwhelming force, he dragged the leaders of every rebellion to Athens, where the slaves of each city-state sat in judgment, trying nobles, lords, and even kings by the law. Most were sentenced to death, cast into the Underworld, or condemned to hard labor.
The sweeping rebellion against Emperor Suren was quelled without him so much as lifting a finger, thanks to his general, Heracles.
"Long live the Emperor!"
This phrase quickly became a common saying throughout Greece, like an invocation to the heavens, like saying "Oh Lord" or "By the gods," blending into the daily lives of the people.
Now, everyone lived freely in this beautiful era, pursuing fulfillment and happiness without oppression.
Everyone could stand against injustice, say "no," knowing that the Emperor protected them, that he was with them.
The simulated age had reached its pinnacle; the Age of Gods had attained its zenith!
Though Suren was not blind to the harsh truths of the world, he was determined to make this moment a permanent reality.
Greece stood here now; Greece would stand here forever!
---
"Athena, the mortal laws are nearly complete, but as for the divine laws, what do you think?"
Even as the Emperor of Greece, tasked with uniting gods and mortals under one empire, Suren maintained a profound respect for the gods, honoring the pact he had made as the bridge between worlds.
Everyone was bound to respect the gods, and in turn, the gods would offer boundless guidance.
This arrangement pleased many, but it did not sit well with Athena.
She understood the value of mortals respecting the gods—this was a principle taught by the gods themselves and codified by Suren. She agreed with the concept, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Suren was… different.
"Suren, if you aim to bind the gods and establish this golden era for both man and god, then perhaps you could…" Athena hesitated, unsure how to put it. Should she tell him that his respectful manner was too formal, and he could… relax a bit?
Words like these would strip a goddess of her dignity, wouldn't they?
"I am Greece's Emperor. That doesn't conflict with respecting the gods, does it?" Suren didn't fully understand her hesitation but replied, "I am Emperor over mortals. I can only keep the gods in check; I can't really interfere in every aspect of their lives."
"That's Zeus's domain."
He had reshaped the world in a way that allowed him to act freely without overstepping, and his approach to the gods was naturally no different. To him, the gods remained the same, no matter his title.
Of course, Zeus, that "entertainment-loving god," couldn't care less about these responsibilities!
If anything, Zeus would welcome someone to rein in the unruly gods.
If he truly cared about power, there would be no "council of twelve" ruling Olympus, and the gods wouldn't have become so unruly.
Naturally, Athena didn't say this aloud. She was a goddess who preferred action to words, and no amount of empty rhetoric could match the weight of a solid example.
In that instant, the goddess of wisdom hatched a brilliant plan.
"Well… Suren, the mortal sections of the Supreme Code are nearly complete, but the knowledge of Greece's scholars isn't enough to craft laws for the gods."
Athena turned, speaking with a serious expression. "So, the next part will require you and me to discuss things together."
"Of course, Athena."
A subtle, refreshing fragrance filled the air, a scent so delicate that it evoked the calm serenity of reading in a valley after a rain. It was an indescribably soothing feeling.
Was this fragrance… coming from Athena?
Did Athena always carry this scent?
Suren gathered his scattered thoughts. It made sense—she was a goddess, after all, so of course she possessed such allure. But still, he hadn't noticed it before.
"No need to be so formal; why so serious?" Athena leaned her elbow on the desk, resting her chin on one hand with a mischievous smile. "Suren, don't you think this desk is a bit empty for just one person?"
In that moment, Athena looked less like a solemn goddess and more like a lively girl-next-door, brimming with youthful energy.
Only a maiden could embody this sort of "simple" charm, right?
An empty desk… for just one person? Surely she didn't mean… for more than one?
A thought flashed through Suren's mind, and he replied, his tone calm, "It does seem a bit empty. But Athena, you're a goddess, so naturally, everything you use should be the very best…"
"The best… is that so?" Athena pondered, then smiled. "Small matters, Suren. Let's get back to business!"
Athena, goddess of wisdom, daughter dearest to Zeus, renowned for her valor and intellect, always took the lead in matters of the heart, even if it meant handling them her way.
She would wait, wait until Suren fulfilled his ambitions, wait until he opened his heart, wait until he…
Took the first step and confessed to her.
"Patience, Athena. We have all the time in the world," she mused silently.
Goddesses have plenty of patience, and she would weave a net sweet enough to ensnare him.
The laws they were drafting didn't need to be overly restrictive. Gods and mortals could never be truly equal, nor could they live in total harmony; higher beings simply couldn't exist that way. It was enough for them to abide by the rules and refrain from wielding their power recklessly.
So Suren established a system of atonement: any god who wronged humanity would be required to lend their strength to human advancement until their debt was paid.
Conversely, if a god aided humanity, humans would respond with gratitude and offer reasonable tributes in return, as tokens of appreciation.
For the most part, Athena simply listened, occasionally helping Suren refine details, until finally, a first draft for governing the gods was complete.
"Don't worry too much; I'll help you," Athena reassured him. "The gods will behave, after all, I'm the one they've chosen as Chief Architect!"
The gods shared authority, but Athena held the reins for twenty-four hours a day.
Athena smiled warmly, her expression an intriguing blend of girlish and mature allure. Her charm made Suren's heart skip a beat—appreciating beauty is human nature, after all, and the eyes will always follow the heart.
Athena was a goddess whose beauty could rival that of the goddess of beauty herself. In Suren's eyes, Athena easily surpassed Aphrodite, who he found no more appealing than a childish flirt.
What Suren didn't realize was that Athena had two faces. Behind closed doors, she was a mastermind, feared and avoided by all the gods.
In Olympus, a saying had spread among the gods—
Only second-rate gods fear Hera, those with refined taste respect Hestia, but no god should ever provoke Athena.
This was a goddess who once hurled Sicily at her foes—graceful and gentle, she was not!
But perhaps in front of Suren, Athena was indeed the gentle and wise goddess she seemed to be.
Suren shook his head. "If you can really keep the gods in line, I'd be eternally grateful."
"Oh? You don't trust me?" Athena's eyes sparkled playfully, narrowing with a soft smile. "Aren't I here to help?"
"If they don't listen to me…"
Athena bit her lip, feigning a hint of helplessness, "Then I'll just have to ask my father, Zeus, to step in~"
In short—
I, Athena, am a delicate flower in need of assistance!
But I'm willing to help you~
In reality, Athena's thoughts were much darker: If any gods dared defy her, she'd simply twist their heads off and toss them into the River Styx to cool off. Surely, that would get the others to fall in line.
"Uh…"
Suren could barely hold his ground against Athena's charms, though he suspected her words were innocent enough.
Reflexively, he changed the subject. "Speaking of which, Athena, why haven't I seen Artemis around lately?"
"It has been a while…"
"…"
"Oh, my dear Suren, has no one taught you… that it's unwise to mention one goddess in front of another?"
Athena pouted, embodying a playful, willful spirit that made Suren momentarily lose track of whether this was the goddess Athena or a sweet young girl.
Ah… right.
Feeling a bit awkward, Suren nodded, not at all overwhelmed. "You're right. Thank you for the lesson, Athena."
Athena's brow furrowed slightly—had she overplayed her hand?
To Athena, sparring with someone like Suren in this chess match of wits and courtship was as demanding as it was thrilling, requiring every ounce of her mind and spirit.
But Athena was Athena. "It's fine, I forgive you. After all, Artemis is like 'family' to you, isn't she?"
A clever move, indeed. Athena's tactics were the kind that struck without sound, resolving her challenges without a single move on the board.
Before Suren could respond, Athena quickly diverted the conversation, seizing the chance to move on.
"Don't worry about Artemis," Athena reassured him. "She's been busy lately, preparing to help you. She'll be tied up for a while…"
"When I next see her, shall I pass on your regards?"
"…Sure," Suren nodded, agreeing to her suggestion.
For some reason, he felt an odd sense of having been deftly handled, but everything Athena had said pleased him. There was nothing he'd oppose, and had he been left to his own devices, he would have done it the same way.
Could she be… preemptively directing my own decisions?
Suren pondered, lost in thought.
Athena exhaled softly, marveling at Suren's keen perception and intellect. Even she, the goddess of wisdom, had nearly faltered in trying to maneuver around him.
Until now, Athena had swayed the gods with ease. Short of divine insight, even Zeus himself couldn't fully discern her schemes from within.
Take, for example, her appointment as the "Craftsman Guardian" during their initial planning—most of the gods had sneered at the role as menial and trivial, gladly tossing it to a "reluctant" Athena.
But by now, the gods were beginning to realize that this position was an invaluable authority that allowed her to bestow favors as she pleased.
Now, however, Athena had met her match. Even with Suren's guard lowered, the smallest of her schemes nearly slipped under his radar.
To avoid exposure, Athena had no choice but to integrate her designs within Suren's will rather than steer him along her own path.
Her courtship with the Golden King continued to be a contest of wits.
"Oh, Suren," Athena teased, successfully diverting him, "it seems you're still surrounded by women who've crossed paths with you. Atalanta and Europa? You might need to pick one."
"I choose 'or,'" Suren chuckled. "Atalanta and Europa… they're both wonderful women. But right now, I'm not ready to carry the weight of anyone's entire life."
As Greece's emperor, Suren no longer roamed freely; naturally, Europa had found her way to him.
In Suren's Golden Age, all people had the freedom to say "no," even to the king of the gods himself.
To Suren, this was what "freedom" meant: not that one could do as they pleased, but that one could refuse to do anything against their will.
What he hadn't expected, though, was that Europa would take this "freedom" and decide she wanted to raise an entire generation of children with him.
She insisted it was fate, that she was destined to be Europe's "Mother," and that he was bound to help her fulfill it.
So Zeus wasn't good enough, but Suren was?
Suren didn't buy it. Europa wouldn't bear children, and somehow that meant no one would ever live in Europe?
The earth would continue to spin with or without her.
Then there was Atalanta, who had joined the pursuit, hunting him down with all the tenacity of a stalking lioness. Every day, he was at his wit's end dealing with the two of them.
Atalanta was too stubborn; Europa too intense. If he got involved with either of them, his life would undoubtedly descend into chaos.
"Is that so?" Athena mused, flashing a mischievous smile. "Suren, you're certainly considerate. But since you've put it that way, I imagine they'll be occupied for a while."
"Hmm? How do you figure?" Suren asked, puzzled. How could she possibly arrange something to keep these two busy?
"That's a secret~" Athena held a finger to her pink lips, her fair hand against her delicate mouth, creating a stunning image of charm.
It was no wonder they say beauty is nature's finest painting. In every subtle movement, Athena radiated her unique elegance, a gentle and poised aura that conveyed her allure without the need for excess.
Whereas Aphrodite might appeal with raw intensity, Athena's charm was one of intellect and sophistication, a beauty Suren found leagues above Aphrodite's petty antics.
Suren rubbed his face, banishing the thoughts from his mind.
---
When Suren returned to his palace, both Atalanta and Europa were nowhere to be found. He was rather puzzled—could Athena really have foreseen this?
Two letters were left on his desk. Suren picked up the first one from Atalanta and read:
Suren, the Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt, Lady Artemis, has called me. She needs my assistance, but I'll be back soon. Don't worry about me~
The second letter was from Europa:
Suren, Queen Hera has summoned me. I don't know the reason, but it sounded urgent. I'm off to Olympus, but I'll return to see you soon.
This "soon" stretched from a day, to a week, to a month, and then even a year had passed without either girl's return.
Yet Suren would occasionally receive small tokens: sometimes a vial of Styx water, sometimes materials unique to the Underworld. The most valuable was a golden apple…
Although golden apples are frequently mentioned in Greek mythology, they are extraordinarily rare.
This particular apple was a treasure unique to Queen Hera, comparable to the peaches of immortality in the Queen Mother's Orchard, with the golden apples guarded by the hundred-headed dragon, Ladon—a creature so fearsome that even most gods would struggle to overcome it.
The golden apple possessed a potent ability: when infused with magic or divine power, it could become a medium for spells that guaranteed irresistible effects.
After all, it was a single golden apple that once brought Greece's strongest female hero, Atalanta, to her knees, and another that sparked an all-consuming feud among Greece's three most powerful goddesses.
Suren was quite certain this golden apple was not the one enchanted with the allure of love by Aphrodite that Atalanta had once encountered, but rather a blank apple, untouched by any spell.
With it, he could craft a powerful artifact, even one with the influence of a "mental brand."
Meanwhile, in the Underworld, Artemis was hard at work by the banks of the Styx, painstakingly gathering materials. She thought with a hint of satisfaction, Suren must have received my gifts by now, right?
"Ugh… why did the Styx have to act up now?" Artemis wiped her brow, leaving streaks of Underworld soil smudged on her fair cheeks, oblivious to the smudges.
Since Athena had become the Guardian of Crafts, with authority to mobilize the gods, she'd dispatched Artemis to labor at the River Styx, effectively exiling her from Suren's vicinity.
Artemis wasn't without her grievances—working by the Styx to, well, "gather dust" (or rather, forge materials for constructing barriers) was, no doubt, a brutal task.
None of the gods wanted to do such miserable work, and in the end, they only managed to get Artemis on board by casting lots and by invoking Suren's name to sway her.
The daily workload was rigorous. Even for a god of Artemis's stature, the work demanded she labor from dawn until dusk in a grueling schedule.
After spending some time as a laborer on this godly construction project, Artemis cooled her once-fiery spirit and began to send Suren the treasures she painstakingly collected from the Styx, hoping he might forgive her.
The golden apple had even been a bonus from Hera, recognizing Artemis's dedication.
"Atalanta?" Artemis set down her shovel, standing to call out to her follower.
"I'm here, Lady Artemis." Atalanta's skin had grown fairer from the shadowy depths of the Underworld—a stark contrast to the forest sun. The dark stillness here was gentler on her complexion.
"You've been training under me for a year now, so you should know the ropes by now, right?"
"Yes, Lady Artemis. I understand it well enough," Atalanta replied.
"Good," Artemis said, "then take over for me for a while. I won't be gone long. I need to make a quick trip to Athens."
Back in Athens, Suren studied the golden apple in his hand, scratching his chin. "This is certainly a precious magical material… But can it actually be eaten?"
What did a golden apple taste like?
This was one of Greece's great unsolved mysteries. No one who had ever held a golden apple—including Hera herself—had ever thought of eating one.
Yet it truly was a fruit, not a piece of gold, just bearing a radiant golden hue.
So fitting for the Age of Gods!
"But I've only got one… Eating it outright would feel a bit wasteful, wouldn't it?"
Suren pondered. If even the gods hadn't eaten it, surely it was something special.
If Hera had been there, she would have told him that it wasn't out of frugality. Gods simply didn't have physical cravings. For Hera, the apple served as a prized ornamental plant—its beauty far outweighing its edible value.
Golden apples represented the highest honor in Greece; all heroes and kings took pride in obtaining one, and for a god to bestow such a treasure upon mortals was the ultimate reward.
It wasn't that they couldn't eat it; they simply didn't want to.
Just as Suren debated taking a small bite, a familiar, cheerful voice sounded beside him, "Suren~ Lovely little Suren…"
There was only one person—no, god—who would call him that.
That would be Cynthia—or Artemis.
Hearing that voice, Suren looked up and saw Artemis standing in his room. Smiling, he stepped forward and gave her a warm hug. "It's been too long, Lady Artemis…"
But Artemis pulled away shyly, saying, "Don't—your body will get dirty. Mortal bodies can't handle Styx water."
Suren shook his head. "I've bathed in five rivers of the Underworld and been forged by divine fire. There's no earthly substance that can harm this body of mine."
Suren's immortal body, a masterpiece achieved through divine crafting, was the pinnacle of Greek might. It had been created through the blessings of several goddesses, with even Hestia's sacred flame from Olympus reinforcing his resilience.
The strength of his body was absolute. A little Styx water on Artemis was hardly a concern—Suren would remain unscathed even if he were thrown into the harshest rivers of punishment.
But Artemis, perhaps due to her concern, didn't fully grasp this. Whether or not romance was possible, Artemis cared for Suren deeply and kept him in her thoughts.
"Suren, did you get the golden apple I sent you?" Artemis looked at him with a satisfied smile, her eyes narrowing as if basking in a pleasant memory. "I had Hermes bring it over, so there shouldn't have been any trouble."
As the messenger god, Hermes could be relied upon. Naturally, if he delivered the apple, it would arrive safely.
"Ah, so it was from you!" Suren exclaimed, relieved to finally have the mystery solved after days of wondering.
"And the other gifts—they're from you as well?"
"That's right!" Artemis nodded enthusiastically. "The gods said the Styx was experiencing disturbances, so Athena sent me there to fortify the river. Those were my wages for the work I did along the Styx."
Suren thought of the numerous treasures he had received over the past year, items rare beyond mortal reach, each piece a privilege reserved for the gods.
"Oh, by the way, there were some things that couldn't be mailed, so I brought them myself."
Carefully, Artemis held out the collection of treasures she'd gathered in the Underworld. Most prominent among them was a set of golden apples, generous wages from Hera's orchard, where she could pick as many as needed to reward Artemis's labor.
Looking at her, Suren noticed faint marks of Styx water dried on her face, left from her work by the river.
Ordinary dirt couldn't stain a goddess, but the Styx was different. Its waters were strong enough to taint gods, draining them of power. Even the highest of gods couldn't completely erase its marks.
Despite her best efforts to clean herself, Artemis hadn't been able to remove all traces, and Suren couldn't help but notice.
He pressed his lips together, at a loss for words. Artemis looked so innocent and sincere; had the other gods been taking advantage of her?
But Artemis was no weakling, and she wasn't without allies. As the twin sister of Apollo, one of the mightiest gods, she should be safe from mistreatment…right?
Still, who could possibly intimidate Apollo into silence, forcing Artemis to take on such grueling work?
"I don't get it. After all, I'm only Suren," he thought with a sigh, feeling perplexed by it all.
While Suren pondered the mysteries of godly workplace politics, Artemis hesitantly spoke up, "Suren… do you not like my gifts?"
"No worries! Next time, I'll bring you something even better! Hades said he'd let me use any material in the Underworld as thanks for fortifying the Styx."
As the god of wealth, Hades was the richest deity in Greece. His vaults held Greece's finest treasures, and in recognition of her labor, he'd granted Artemis free access to it. Making use of it would be easy enough.
"No, I love them, Artemis…"
Just as Suren was about to respond, Artemis heard a voice of prayer from her follower.
It was Atalanta:
"Lady Artemis! The Styx isn't just acting up—it's going wild! I can't hold it back; please help!"
Artemis's face tensed with worry. She barely had time to say, "The Styx is in turmoil!" before vanishing from Suren's side.
However, when Artemis rushed back to the river, she found everything was calm. Atalanta, though, wore a look of profound relief.
"That's odd… how did it get this way?" Artemis pondered, puzzled. But, mindful of her unfinished task, she returned to work.
"Hehe, if I work hard enough, I'll earn even more golden apples… Then Suren will never have to worry about golden apples again!"
Filled with hopeful anticipation, the goddess of the hunt threw herself back into her work with renewed vigor.
---
T/N: My goodness, the real war is actually the one between these girls smh, anyway BAD NEWS I looked at the remaining chapters and we can't keep up with the 5 chapters a day if we do that we'll be done before the next week even ends... so we are doing 2 chapters sorrrry, but I want this to last until around the end of the month!
Don't worry im posting a new Type-Moon story! Well it's FGOxCrossovers (i already posted it "I Don't Want To Be A Heroic Spirit"
Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies!
Posture and water check! Remember this is a fan translation!
If you wish to support me or read ahead here's a link! [patreon.com/WiseTL]