Son of the Hero King

Chapter 789: Never trading this

Immediately, an icy chill seemingly settled in the room. Everyone present had complicated relationships with the divine beast of Luxuria.

“How is he?” Sol asked, his voice both tentative and careful.

“His avatar is badly damaged,” Ambrosia explained with a heavy heart. “Euphoria’s surprise attack was extremely devastating, but he can speak. He’s conscious and aware.”

“Has he said anything?”

“He wants to see you,” Medea replied this time. “But that’s not the pressing issue. The Divine Beasts gathering is coming up. Normally, Asmodeus would attend. But in his current state…”

“He can’t go,” Sol finished for her, understanding the crux of the matter without being informed.

“Exactly. Which brings us to a decision we need to make.” Persephone leaned forward, a gleam of interest in her eyes. “Someone needs to represent the Lust faction at the gathering. The question is who.”

“And why do I have a feeling you’re about to volunteer for me?” Sol asked, his voice dry, humorless.

“Because you’re the obvious choice,” Freya said with the utter conviction of someone who wouldn’t budge out of their decision no matter what. “You’re married to Medea. You are a Blessed, and you made your mark in the recent Astral Realm war. The other divine beasts will respect your strength.”

“Or they’ll see me as an upstart who needs to be put in his place,” Sol countered, brows creasing.

“There’s that risk, yes,” La Befana admitted with a nod. “Which is why we’ve discussed an alternative. Medea could attend as the representative of the witches. We are, after all, considered Asmodeus’s children. You could accompany her as support.”

Sol looked at Medea. “What do you think?”

“I think both options have merit,” she said carefully. “If you go as Asmodeus’s representative, you’ll be making a statement. You’ll be declaring yourself his successor in all but name. That carries weight and danger.”

“And if you go as the representative of the witches?”

“Then I’m speaking for all witches, not just Asmodeus. It’s a different kind of authority. You’d be there, but in a supporting role. Less confrontational.”

Sol drummed his fingers on the table. “How long do we have to decide?”

“The gathering is in two weeks. Tiamat managed to push it back a lot, but there is really nothing more she can do after the stunt Euphoria pulled. I am even surprised it's taking three weeks, to be honest.” Ambrosia said in a grave voice. “We’ll need to send word soon.”

“Let’s table the decision for now,” Sol decided. “I want to speak with Asmodeus first before making any commitments.”

His words brought nods from all around the table. It was the sensible choice, resulting in unanimous support.

“This brings us to our next issue,” Persephone said, mouth widening in a grin displaying all her immaculate white teeth. “The goddesses have been remarkably quiet since the wedding. As Mother said, the fact that the meeting between divine beasts wasn’t held immediately is more than a bit concerning.”

That statement got Sol’s full attention. “Elaborate.”

“No divine mandates, no summons, no interference whatsoever,” Persephone explained. “It’s extremely unusual. After you showed the loss of your blessings and Lilith's true situation, we expected some, hell, any kind of response. But there’s been nothing at all. It’s like watching a story pause right before the climax.”

“Goddesses don’t usually stay quiet,” Kali said, her voice unusually grave and serious now. “They get angry. Or calculating. Throwing their usual temper tantrums. But never quiet. Nothing like the present situation.”

“I suspect Luxuria is probably protecting us,” Medea offered, explaining her viewpoint. “She’s invested too much in Sol to let her sisters interfere now. Beyond that, they wouldn't want to create more enemies with the current circumstances.”

Sol had his own suspicions about the matter. Luxuria had been playing a long game with him since the very beginning of their unconventional relationship. The other goddesses were likely in an uproar, but Luxuria held enough influence to keep them at bay.

For now.

At the very least, he doubted they would antagonize him while the old gods were making an unexpected appearance. How the situation would change once it was discovered that he was the reincarnation of the Father God: Adam was up in the air. He had no precedent to lean on for any sort of prediction.

“Keep monitoring the situation,” Sol said finally, voice firm. “Also, if any gods try to make contact, I want to know immediately. I do not think all of them will necessarily be hostile. New alliances might be formed.”

Immediately, his mind drifted to Karma and Dawn. He doubted they would oppose him for the time being. Once he showed more of his power, other gods might even join him.

Or band together against him.

The possibilities were endless.

“Understood.” Ambrosia nodded.

“Which brings us to another divine problem,” Medea said with a sigh, her voice tired and weary. “The church.”

Sol grimaced. “Camelia?”

“She’s doing well, actually,” Persephone said. “Better than expected. She lost her blessing, but she’s adapted. She’s back to Duke rank through pure training alone and wants to discuss something with you later.”

That was a relief. Sol had worried about Camelia’s mental state. “And the church itself?”

“That’s the origin of the problem, yes,” Medea explained. “Without a Supreme Daughter with divine authority, the institutional structure is collapsing. The priests maintain order, but the bishops are making their own moves.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“What kind of moves?” Sol asked, voice dangerously low. Sol understood that for all her authority, there was only so much Camelia could do. In the past, Dawn could at least help, but with her gone as well, it was no wonder the church was going crazy.

“Trying to find the next Blessed,” La Befana answered, voice whispery quiet. “They’re searching everywhere, testing candidates, hoping to discover who the goddess will choose next.”

“They can’t choose themselves,” Kali added. “It’s up to luck and the goddess’s will. But that doesn’t stop them from positioning their preferred candidates.”

Sol pinched the bridge of his nose, utterly exasperated. “So we have a power vacuum in the church and ambitious bishops trying to fill it in. Perfect.”

“Essentially, yes,” Ambrosia confirmed with a heavy sigh, mirroring the somber mood that had settled in.

“I’ll speak with Camelia,” Sol decided at last. “See what she thinks should be done. In the meantime, work with the church administrators and the White Knight to keep things stable.”

“Agreed,” Ambrosia answered without missing a beat. “I should mention that things would have spiraled even more out of control if not for Nefertiti and Nent acting. As they are both Phoenixes, their authority is very high in the church. Nefertiti in particular seems to have already started sharing the books with a small group of people she converted.”

Ambrosia shuddered, thinking of the fanatic phoenix. Nefertiti was just a new King. But she was truly unsettling to be around.

“I will talk to them.” He chuckled lightheartedly at the mention of his dear fanatic. Humans were not like elves, but Nefertiti was already working. Her concept of Faith was not for nothing.

“Last topic,” Milia said, speaking for the very first time in the meeting, her expression turning slightly amused. “The angels.”

“What about them?” Sol asked, his tone wary and tight.

“Iris has been trying to reach us for days,” Persephone said. “Multiple messengers, several written requests. She’s very persistent. Much more than I remembered.”

Persephone and Iris had once been companions in their adventures with Mars and the others. The angel was a part of some of her life’s most beautiful memories and best stories.

Iris. The Supreme Daughter of Slothein and Chloe’s mother. Sol had observed her briefly. She’d struck him as powerful and dangerous.

“What does she want?”

“To talk,” Milia said simply. “She says it’s urgent. Something about the other angels and a certain proposal. Also, she wants to talk about Chloe.”

“A proposal,” Sol repeated flatly. “After her people tried to bring us to the international table?”

“To be fair,” Persephone said gently, “I believe Iris wasn’t involved in that incident. She is not the kind of insidious woman. She is more of a clutz, really.”

“Not the kind, huh,” Sol commented idly, his mind flashing to when he observed Iris. His dimension allowed him to have a far greater understanding of people since he could observe them from absolutely every angle.

She indeed did not seem evil. But a clutz? Somehow, he absolutely doubted that statement.

The only thing he could be sure of was that she truly loved her daughter. Those expressions could never be faked.

Sol considered the whole matter carefully, investing his senses and mind. The angels were a wildcard. Unlike the gods and goddesses who played from the Divine Realm, the angels operated directly in the mortal world.

Their weapons were not a threat to him. Nevertheless, they were definitely a threat to his kingdom, and who knows if they had anything that could affect a demigod tucked up somewhere in that blasted island of theirs?

“Set up a meeting,” he decided. “But on our terms. Neutral ground, limited escort, and full disclosure of what she wants to discuss beforehand. Chloe will be our arbiter.”

“Poor girl. Stuck in such an uncomfortable situation.” Persephone said cheerfully.

“I’ll handle the arrangements,” Milia added.

“Anything else?” Sol asked, looking around the table.

Silence was the answer he got. It seemed they had covered all the major issues. Sol started to stand when Freya’s voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

Everyone turned to look at the Witch of Space. Freya’s expression was serious, more serious than Sol had ever seen it.

“There’s one more thing,” Freya said, her pink eyes locked on Sol. “You made me a promise, Sol. You said you’d consider having a baby with me.”

Sol’s mind raced back to that conversation. “I did.”

“The curse situation is resolved now,” Freya continued. “So I’m asking. Have you considered it?”

The room had gone silent. Every witch present was watching.

Medea’s hand found Sol’s under the table, squeezing gently. Supportive. She felt no jealousy. In fact, she was happy about this matter. Yet she would not force Sol. Never. Whatever choice he made, she would support it as his first wife and lover.

Sol squeezed back then met Freya’s gaze directly. “I have considered it. And I’m ready to give it a try. But I think we should get to know each other better first. Perhaps we could organize a date first?”

Adding Freya to his women was one thing. But a baby was a completely different matter. No children of his would be born without love if he could help it.

Something in Freya’s expression softened. She had not expected that response. A rejection, yes, but not this. “A date?”

“Yes. An actual date. Not a political meeting or a tactical discussion. Just you and me, getting to know each other better.” Sol smiled slightly. “If we’re going to have a child together, we should at least know each other’s favorite foods.”

Freya blinked, then a genuine smile crossed her face. “I’d like that.”

“Good. We’ll arrange something soon.”

The tension broke at that. Freya nodded, satisfied.

“Is that everything then?” Sol asked, looking around one final time.

“Actually,” Milia spoke up from behind him, surprising everyone. The head maid rarely interjected during these meetings unless necessary. “There is one more matter, Your Highness.”

Sol turned to look at her. “Yes?”

“You are not yet officially the ruler of Lustburg,” Milia said calmly. “You’ve been acting as Crown Prince and regent for some time now. But you’ve never had a proper coronation.”

Sol blinked. She was right. He’d been so busy with wars and goddesses and all those crazy things that he’d never actually been crowned king.

“I believe,” Milia continued, “that it is time for you to truly become the king of our kingdom. A proper coronation would solidify your authority and send a message to both allies and enemies.”

Sol looked at Medea, who nodded in agreement. “She’s right. You’ve earned it a hundred times over.”

“We could combine it with other announcements,” Persephone suggested, already thinking politically. “Make it a grand event.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Sol said, though he could see the merit in the idea. “But yes, Milia. You’re right. It’s time. Call Clara and start making preparations.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Milia’s expression showed a clear hint of satisfaction at his acceptance of her suggestion.

The meeting began breaking up after that matter was addressed. Persephone and Kali left first, already discussing the logistics.

Ambrosia departed with a gentle reminder for Sol to rest when he could. La Befana remained for a moment, speaking quietly with Medea.

Freya stood and met Sol’s eyes. “Thank you,” she said simply, then left in a shimmering of space.

Soon, it was just Sol, Medea, and Milia remaining in the meeting hall.

“That went well,” Medea said mildly.

“Did it?” Sol asked. “I feel like I just added ten new tasks to my list.”

“This is just the beginning, I fear. Clara has not seen the light of the sun in days, and Isis almost lost her mind fending off a protest for the rights of the undead. It seems like her undead nearly went berserk.”

“Wait, what? The undead are rebelling?”

“Their slogans are: Let the Dead rest; Stop abusing these old bones; Or again, I would rather be tortured for eternity than sign another damn paper. My favorite one is, Life is truly hell.”

“Damn…” Sol winced, both shocked, bewildered, and feeling a bit guilty. Now he was starting to feel bad for beings that weren’t even alive.

“In fact, the witches were also on the verge of rioting. But once they understood how and why the curse weakened so much, they started working three times harder.”

Milia smiled, the dark circles under her eyes quite evident. “Would you like me to prepare a schedule for all your new obligations?”

Sol groaned. Seventy days of peace, and now reality was crashing back at him like a tsunami big enough to drown out the entire world and then some. he did not even have the right to complain in this matter. This was the main reason why he did not wish to be king in the past. He knew the soul-crushing responsibilities that would follow with this role.

“Yes, Milia. Please do.” He stood and stretched, popping his bones with satisfying grunts and groans. “And schedule time for me to visit Asmodeus. I need to speak with him soon.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Medea stood as well, moving close to her husband. “Are you alright?” she asked in a soft and soothing tone, her voice filled with concern and love.

“Just tired,” Sol admitted, voice weary and affectionate. “Feels like every time I solve one problem, three more appear to smack me on the face.”

“That’s because you’re actually trying to create a worldwide empire,” Medea said. “But worry not, we are all here.”

Sol pulled her close. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You helped me move forward when I was trapped by the shadows of the past,” Medea said simply. “You gave me a future.”

They stood like that for a moment, finding peace in each other’s presence.

Then Milia coughed politely. “Your Highness, you have another meeting in thirty minutes. We need to discuss the War efforts and the distribution of supplies to zones devastated during the fight against Euphoria. Athena Highland is already waiting for you.”

Sol sighed. “Right. Can’t rest for too long.”

He straightened, silver hair catching the ambient light of his dimension, rainbow eyes reflecting determination.

Seven days since the wedding. Seventy days of peace in his personal time.

And now, back to the endless work of reshaping the Mortal Realm.

But as Medea took his hand and they walked out together, Sol found himself smiling despite everything.

This was his life now. Complicated, dangerous, exhausting, yes…

Yet he would never trade for anything else in the world.