A magnificent temple stood at the very peak of the tallest mountain on Remior. The thick marble pillars were adorned with the most intricate runes, humming like coiled songbirds ready to burst into chorus – another of Hephaestus’s masterpieces.

Admittedly, their local branch of runecrafting wasn’t as developed as that on other worlds, but it wasn’t due to the god’s lack of talent. There was a limit to how much a single person could do to advance an entire field by themselves – ignoring a few monstrous individuals, of course, such as a notorious pentapus famous in the entire universe for his unprecedented achievements.

‘He’s going to be so excited once he grabs a hold of Metatron’s runes…’ she smiled faintly, looking at Hephaestus discuss something with Poseidon next to him.

The man scratched his long beard, his bronze skin betraying the countless hours he had spent by the forge as a mortal. He could have gotten rid of this feature upon ascending, but he’d clearly chosen not to.

All the gods were dressed in elegant robes, woven by the most talented tailors on Remior, out of expensive silk. Without exception, their clothes had been enchanted by the god of forging himself to weather wind and rain alike.

Well, maybe with one exception.

Her own clothes were the same rags she wore everywhere. She didn’t personally attend these meetings often, leaving Zeus in charge of the Order’s affairs most of the time. Though today was a special occasion – as they had some pretty important things to discuss. The others were getting a little impatient with the boy, so she’d have to give them an explanation. Still, she hadn’t bothered to change to something more formal. She didn’t care about that stuff. And few of the others dared to even glance at her with anything short of utmost respect anyway.

If Percy saw her, he would have recognized her as Clarity. The strange woman he had met in Twilight City. Well, if she allowed him to recognize her, of course. Though, here, she was better known with a different name.

“Femel and Acton’s candles have gone out.” Hera spoke in a gloomy tone.

Her voice reverberated through the temple, shaking everything besides the gods themselves and their thrones. Her expression was stern as always, her features sharp. Her long dark hair fluttered behind her, betraying her anger – though her calm words didn’t. She was strict when training their Green-borns, but everyone knew she cared for them in her own way – flaws and all.

“The little bastard is still inside the Valley as we speak.” Zeus added.

The sea of clouds around the mountain rolled and tumbled in response to his will, sparks of lightning jumping up and down his chiselled chest. He turned to her expectantly, as did the other gods.

She remained quiet, however, waiting for them to get it all out first.

“I don’t get it!” Hermes yelled. “Lady Phoebe, why won’t you let us grab the brat and end this farce already?! He’s humiliated us long enough!”

The others didn’t say anything, but that spoke volumes in and of itself. Even Phoebe’s daughter, Athena, who was always the first to put Hermes in his place when he lost his temper, was silent right now, making her stance on the matter clear.

Phoebe sighed.

“Hermes, perhaps you should start caring more about the future of our world than your own reputation.”

The self-centred god only even bothered to weigh in because he’d been the one to make the announcement a few years ago. By now, the mortals were whispering among themselves about the gods’ incompetence. And Hermes’s name was often one of the first to come up.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Lady Phoebe… With all due respect – and I can’t believe I’m about to say this – but I agree with Hermes for once. The boy has made a mockery of us a few times too many.” Artemis said, Demeter nodding along.

Unlike Hermes, Phoebe didn’t blame the two of them for being angry. Percy hadn’t just killed a couple of Green-borns. He’d also killed over a dozen members of the Root, some direct descendants of the gods. Specifically, the two goddesses in question had both lost sons to him. Of course, Phoebe knew they didn’t care about their children that much. It was mostly the implied insult to their person that bothered them.

“Mother, at the very least, please let us interrogate him and get the recipe of the Aurora Dew. Even if you wish to pardon him for his crimes, there’s no reason to delay our world’s advancement. We’ve lost years already – we could have embarked on the long journey toward becoming a greater spring.” Athena said, speaking as eloquently as she always did.

Phoebe shook her head.

Next, she took out a small object from her internal world. It was a pinkie-sized vial pinched between her thumb and index finger, a turquoise liquid swirling inside it. It glistened under the bright sunlight, demanding awe from all who looked at it. The other gods were sitting dozens of metres away, but that was a trivial distance for such entities. Their eyes widened as they realized what the object represented.

“I brewed it myself. I learned the recipe just after he escaped from the Fungal Spire, years ago. I only had to watch him once too. You’ll be surprised by how simple the trick behind it is.”

She chuckled, before continuing.

“Hundreds of greater springs standing at the top of the universe, lording over smaller worlds like ours… all of their strength built upon such a tiny little secret… But I suppose it’s our fault we lacked the ingenuity to figure it out sooner.”

Zeus frowned.

“Lady Phoebe… I’m still confused. If you’ve had the recipe all this time, why didn’t you spread it? To the Order, at least? We could have saved our Green-borns several years off their next advancement.”

“Because I doubt the Holy Children will all manage to keep their mouths shut. We have thousands of Green-borns. One of them is bound to blabber to the low-borns at some point, and all of Remior will find out we have the recipe.

“So what?” Poseidon asked. “Who cares about their opinions?”

“I don’t want Percy to find out his secrets have leaked this soon. I like the pressure he’s under. It’s good for him.” Phoebe explained.

“Two dead Green-borns! And a decade of wasted time from the rest of them!” Hermes exploded in rage. “All to motivate a single piece of Red-born trash?! To work a little harder?! Have you lost your mind, Phoebe?!”

Clearly unable to take the insults aimed at her mother any longer, Athena allowed her internal world to partially unfold, sending a powerful blast of pure force at the eccentric god. Whether or not she agreed with Phoebe today, it appeared there was a limit to the amount of disrespect she would tolerate.

Zeus and Poseidon had to jump in, the latter blocking the attack, mindful to not let the temple shatter to dust. Meanwhile, the former approached his subordinate, placing his hand on the god’s shoulder.

“Hermes… Irrespective of your opinion – which many of us may well share – I would advise you to be mindful of whom you are speaking to.”

The god swallowed hard, nodding grimly.

Phoebe shrugged, not bothered by any of this in the slightest.

“If you’re done throwing a tantrum, sit back and listen. Not that I need to explain myself to any of you – but I’m getting sick of all your pestering.”

She took more objects out of her storage again. Twelve stone tablets, the same words carved on each one. She tossed a copy to each of the other gods. Over the next few seconds, they read the information, their expressions shifting from curiosity and confusion to shock by the end.

What she’d written down was naturally a list of Percy’s achievements, each accompanied by a small description. Specifically, she’d included the things they could spread around to improve their world.

The recipe of the Aurora Dew… His boosting art… The Vault’s magiscript… The new alchemic principles… And of course, the Moirais’ Decree and his ability to share it with others – albeit only one person at a time.

Phoebe had left out some personal details about stuff he couldn’t easily pass on, or those he would downright refuse to share no matter what, such as his familiar, his mutated eyes, his spectral trait or the Ring of Sacrilege. But she had included a short explanation about how he had achieved all this through his bloodline.

By the time they were done, most of their expressions had shifted to genuine interest. Hera, Hermes, Artemis and Demeter were clearly not as thrilled as the others, their personal opinion of Percy still clouding their judgement. But the rest were different. Hephaestus, in particular, was downright ecstatic, a child-like grin plastered all over his face.

‘Well, everyone will come around sooner or later… Once they calm down… They aren’t stupid…’