Chapter 488: Consequences
"W...What in the world has gone through your mind, Septimius!"
The sharp cry of Athena’s voice greeted Nathan the instant he stepped out of flower house. The heavy air that lingered within the room clung to him still, its suffocating presence refusing to dissipate even as the door closed behind him. Yet before he could take a steadying breath, Athena’s words lashed against him, her expression a mixture of shock, fear, and barely restrained anger.
Nathan met her gaze with a calmness that belied the storm churning within his chest. "I was speaking with her, as you asked of me, Goddess Athena," he said evenly. His tone held no regret, only the quiet weight of survival. "And for a first time... I came out alive."
Athena’s eyes widened, her lips trembling before her composure faltered. "E...Even so! That was reckless beyond measure! You dared speak with such arrogance against Pandora! Septimius, do you not understand? No matter how great your strength may be, Pandora can end you in the span of a heartbeat!" Her words struck like a whip, carrying the severity of a teacher reprimanding a reckless student, yet beneath it lay a trembling concern.
"I will not deny your words," Demeter interjected, her voice softer yet still carrying an undertone of disbelief. Her emerald eyes studied Nathan as if seeing him for the first time. "Septimius, you truly could have died. None who faced Pandora and provoked her wrath have ever walked away unscathed... until now."
Persephone, meanwhile, remained silent. Her delicate face, framed by the faint glow of the waning sunlight, reflected speechless astonishment. She looked as though she still struggled to comprehend the audacity Nathan had displayed.
Nathan’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles, though it held no trace of arrogance—only conviction. "Even so... it is precisely because it was Pandora I faced that I had to stand firm," he said, his voice steady, his words deliberate. "If I am truly meant to be the one who keeps her in check, then I cannot bow, I cannot show weakness. To cower before her would be to invite the same fate as Epimetheus... or all the others who died in their attempts to restrain her." His gaze flickered to the distance, then returned with quiet steel. "I must be her counterweight. Anything less is submission. Anything less is death."
"Septimius..." Athena’s voice softened, her sharpness faltering, leaving only the weight of concern. "That is no strategy. That is playing with your life." Her usually unshakable composure faltered, and a complicated expression crossed her face—a mixture of admiration and worry.
She had not expected him to hold such courage. No, not courage—something fiercer, something reckless that even the Gods themselves often lacked. Many of her own kin would have bowed, compromised, or hidden behind half-measures in the face of Pandora. Yet Nathan had chosen defiance. Even she could not decide whether to be proud of him... or terrified for him.
Still, worry lingered like a shadow in her eyes.
Nathan noticed. He let out a faint, almost weary chuckle before his lips curved into a smile directed at her alone. "Besides..." His eyes softened with warmth rare for him. "You would have made sure she wouldn’t have killed me, right?"
The words caught Athena off guard. She blinked, momentarily robbed of speech. For all her wisdom, for all her poise, she had not expected him to place such trust in her—trust that radiated in his expression as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Her chest tightened with an unfamiliar warmth. "Yes..." she whispered at last, her lips curling into a small, genuine smile. "Yes, I would have."
Nathan turned his gaze forward, determination igniting in his eyes as he prepared to speak again. "Then—"
But his words broke off. His body stiffened, and in the next instant his knees buckled beneath him. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes widening in alarm as a violent cough tore through his throat. Black blood spattered against the dirt, thick and foul-smelling, as though poison itself spilled from within.
"Septimius!!" Athena dropped instantly to her knees before him, her voice heavy with panic as she reached for him, hands trembling despite her efforts to remain steady.
"I knew it..." Demeter murmured, horrified as her sharp mind pieced together the truth. "It’s astonishing he lasted this long. No one leaves Pandora’s presence untouched... her darkness seeps into the body, into the very soul. To walk away unscathed is impossible."
"W...Will he be alright?" Persephone’s voice trembled as she knelt beside him, her delicate fingers hovering uncertainly, afraid to touch, afraid to cause him more pain. Her red eyes glistened with worry as she watched him struggle, black blood staining his lips with every cough.
Athena’s voice cut through her hesitation like a blade. "Demeter! Do not simply stand there analyzing! Bring me something to treat him, now!"
"Y...yes!" Demeter snapped back to herself, urgency overriding her shock. She turned quickly to Persephone, her expression hard. "Fetch our healing concoctions—the ones prepared from the golden flowers of Elysium. Hurry!"
Persephone nodded, determination flickering in her eyes. "At once!" In a flash of divine speed, she disappeared, leaving only the faint scent of blossoms behind.
Meanwhile, Nathan convulsed, his body wracked with pain that seemed to eat away at him from the inside. "Guhhh—!" Another violent cough wracked him, black ichor spilling across his chin and staining his robes. His breath came ragged, his chest heaving as the darkness within gnawed at his flesh, his veins, even his spirit.
The pain itself was almost bearable—sharp, searing, but not unfamiliar. What made it truly unbearable was the nature of it: the malignant force of Pandora’s corruption, insidious and relentless, creeping through every fiber of his being like a poison designed to unravel him piece by piece.
Only the faint, pulsating glow of the black necklace pressed against his chest kept him tethered to life, its strange power warding off the worst of Pandora’s infection. Without it, Nathan knew, he would already be a corpse.
"Not good..." he thought bitterly, his vision blurring, consciousness slipping through his fingers like sand. "If I lose myself here... if I faint before them... Athena might discover who I truly am."
His fingers clawed weakly at the ground, desperately trying to anchor himself, but every heartbeat seemed to drag him further into the abyss.
The worst part of it all was the restraint. Nathan knew he possessed other divine powers—fragments of strength that could burn away the corruption clawing at his insides. Yet he dared not call upon them. Not here. Not while Athena’s sharp eyes lingered upon him. If he revealed too much, if she recognized even a trace of those hidden powers, everything he had concealed would unravel.
And so he endured. Darkness continued to swallow him from within, a tide of pain and poison that ate away at his strength, threatening to drown his consciousness entirely. His body shook with the effort to resist, each heartbeat heavier than the last.
But then—warmth.
Gentle at first, like sunlight seeping through the cracks of storm clouds, then stronger, wrapping around him like a protective embrace.
"It is fine, Septimius."
Nathan’s blurred vision cleared as his eyes widened. Athena was there—kneeling beside him, her arms enveloping him with uncharacteristic tenderness. She held him close, her divine aura radiating with a calm steadiness that soothed where the darkness raged. Her silken hair brushed his cheek, her armor pressing coldly against him, yet all he could feel was the warmth flowing from her into his battered form.
"Steady your breath," she whispered, her tone soft, almost motherly, yet firm enough to command obedience.
Nathan obeyed without question. He inhaled slowly, shakily, and with each breath Athena’s divine energy seeped deeper into him, weaving through the cracks where Pandora’s corruption had spread. It was not brute force. No—it was precision, wisdom, and care. The pain, once unbearable, began to ebb like a tide retreating from the shore. His trembling lessened, his chest loosened, and clarity returned to his thoughts.
When he finally looked up, Athena’s face was so close he could see the subtle glow in her blue eyes, the faintest curve of her lips lifting into a small, reassuring smile. In that moment, Nathan found himself struck by something he had never expected: beauty. Not the beauty of her divine form—that had always been undeniable—but the beauty of her gentleness, of her warmth.
Feelings he thought himself incapable of feeling toward her, stirred within his chest. He had misunderstood her, he realized. The image he had forged of Athena during the Trojan War—cold, calculating, rival to Hera in manipulation—had been wrong. Utterly wrong. Up close, in this vulnerable moment, he could sense who she truly was beneath the godhood. And it shook him.
"Thanks..." he muttered at last, his voice weak yet filled with sincerity.
Athena did not answer with words. Instead, she simply held him a moment longer, her embrace steady, protective, before the sound of hurried footsteps broke the fragile silence.
"Here, Athena."
Persephone reappeared, golden liquid cradled in her hands, its glow radiating life. Demeter followed close behind, her eyes sharp with worry as she handed the vial to Athena.
Athena pulled back slightly, her arms still steadying Nathan as she uncorked the vial and pressed it into his hands. "Drink," she said gently.
Nathan did as told, tilting the vessel back and gulping the liquid down. The taste was bitter, floral, yet a soothing warmth spread instantly through his chest and down to his fingertips. He could feel it at work already—knitting torn veins, cleansing the corruption, coaxing his body back from the brink. As expected of a concoction wrought by Demeter herself.
His breathing steadied, and though exhaustion weighed heavily on him, the mortal threat had passed.
"How are you feeling?" Athena asked, her eyes studying him closely.
"Tired..." Nathan admitted, lowering the empty vial and sitting heavily on the ground, sweat clinging to his skin.
Athena frowned. "Tonight, the tournament—you don’t have to force yourself. Rest. There is no shame in it."
But Nathan shook his head firmly. "No. I invited Pandora to watch me compete. If I do not appear, if I do not prove myself before her, then all of this—all that I risked today—will have been for nothing." His words carried stubborn resolve, his gaze unwavering despite the fatigue etched across his features.
Demeter arched a brow, folding her arms. "Where exactly did you find this one, Athena? He speaks as though he has already lived through centuries of hardship." Her tone was half-chiding, half-curious.
Athena chuckled lightly as she rose to her feet, offering Nathan her hand. "I do not know either. But today, at least, he proved he might truly be capable of standing against Pandora."
Demeter pursed her lips, unconvinced. "Perhaps. But words and one daring act are not enough. There must be more between them—more trials, more understanding. That cannot be forged in a day."
"Perhaps tomorrow morning, then," Athena mused softly before glancing at Nathan. "If you are willing."
Nathan suppressed a smirk, masking it beneath a hesitant expression. "That... may be complicated. Emperor Caesar has already given me tasks of importance. He warned me not to waste time with Pandora." His tone carried just enough hesitance to sound convincing.
Athena’s smile faded instantly. Her brows furrowed, her expression darkening into one of displeasure. "Pandora is not a trivial matter. Caesar knows this. Why would he tell you such a thing?"
Nathan hesitated, then clenched his fists tightly, lowering his gaze. "He asked me to kill..." His voice faltered, trailing off.
"Septimius." Athena’s tone cut sharply, commanding, her voice low with gravity. "Do not stop now. Speak."
Natha feigned hesitation. "If I tell you... and do not carry it out... Caesar may have me executed. You know how ruthless he is."
Athena stepped closer. "Caesar is nothing before me. I will protect you, no matter his threats. Tell me without fear what he commanded."
Nathan slowly lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "He asked me... to kill Emperor Crassus and find Pompey’s Key of Rome..."