Fate: I Heard After Death, You Can Ascend to the Throne of Heroes?

Chapter 148: The game will continue.



Chapter 148: The game will continue.



"Was it really that simple?"

"Yeah, if I had known that there was such a simple method, I could've done it too..."

As Atalanta chased after Promise, realizing the post was gone, the crowd, after their initial laughter, began to murmur in frustration.

Especially those who had lost to Atalanta during the race.

Jealousy, frustration, and envy filled their voices as they complained

to each other.about the unfairness of it all

They grumbled that if given another chance, they would've outdone Promise, claiming they could have been smarter, faster, and more heroic.

After all, Promise, with his unassuming appearance, didn't exactly look like a hero.

Their complaints grew louder, their grumblings spreading throughout the crowd.

Soon, it became a chorus of voices, all loser venting their frustrations and fueling each other's discontent.

Among them, however, one figure remained unimpressed. Hidden in the crowd, the bard who was none other than the god Hermes, adjusted his feathered cap and rolled his eyes at the noise around him.

He had no interest in listening to such foolishness any longer.

'Fools,' Hermes thought, a smirk forming on his lips. 'Even if you were given another chance, what difference would it make?'

'The real game was already over when that young man arrived.'

For those who watched from afar, the race seemed straightforward.

These people didn't know about the actuality but the gods knew the truth-those who truly understood Promise's journey knew that the real race had already been decided long before he arrived.

The actual race wasn't just about speed.

It was the distance the boy had crossed to stand before Atalanta.

The gods, who had been watching him all along, knew it well.

It was a distance far greater than the race itself.

In the end, even the goddess of night, Nyx, secretly helped and made the sun rise a step later, so that Promise could make it in time.

Hermes couldn't help but scoff.

'And even if you knew the trick, even if you were given another chance, could any of you have pulled up the post that marked the finish line?'

He laughed to himself, knowing the answer.

You should know that this game was witnessed by gods from beginning to end, and those gods were Apollo and Artemis, the god of light and goddess of the moon.

The reason why Promise was able to pick up the wooden stake representing the finish line was not because he thought of this, but simply because of who he was-Promise.

And in truth, even if this had nothing to do with Promise, both Artemis and Apollo would have ensured Atalanta's protection.

There was no way they would allow the original myth to play out, where someone used the power of the goddess of beauty, Aphrodite to force Atalanta into submission.

Because now, Atalanta was more than just a renowned huntress-she was the true favored child of Artemis, the Moon Goddess.

Don't forget the painting from long ago in the Kingdom of Calydon, the painting in which the night sky was lit up by sky lanterns, dedicated to the Moon Goddess.

It wasn't Promise who lit the first lantern back then, but Atalanta.

At the same time, she was the first to offer her blessings, expressing gratitude for the nurturing of the Moon Goddess, sincerely wishing her eternal purity, beauty, and flawlessness.

So, if we goes by that Promise had already changed her fate long time ago.

At this moment, Atalanta and Promise, who had been playing and fighting, finally arrived under the ancient tree.

The wind was strong, but the rain was light.

Despite the raised fists and drawn bows along the way, nothing actually landed on Promise.

When they arrived, Artemis and Apollo were already standing there under the lush tree, waiting for them for some time.

Both deities were dressed in divine attire, splendidly attending the occasion.

Upon seeing the gods, Atalanta immediately bowed respectfully to greet, and Promise did the

same.

But his eyes were a little vague during that process, and he didn't dare to look Artemis in the eye, who was staring at him intently.

In fact, at this moment, Atalanta also looked at Artemis, her goddess with complex emotions.

After all, she was a clever woman, not at all foolish.

When Promise arrived and Atalanta saw his miserable apperance, she was furious at first, wanting to ask him who had turned him into this state.

But when Promise couldn't help but sigh, saying that the goddess was truly prone to jealousy, Atalanta suddenly fell silent and refrained from asking any more questions.

Naturally, this was because she already knew the answer by then.

"Promise, have you already decided the outcome of this race?" Apollo was the first to speak, his radiant eyes gently looking at Promise.

"Yes, honored God of Light, Apollo."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Let the race go on forever.

It will be a race with no end, allowing that girl to run forever, doing what she loves.

Hearing this, Atalanta finally shifted her gaze from Artemis back to Promise.

"I see."

Though Apollo had long known the answer, he still smiled with satisfaction upon hearing it.

Then, he plucked a leaf from the towering ancient tree beside him.

As soon as the leaf touched the God of Light, it transformed into an eternal golden leaf, which, Apollo handed to Promise.

At the same time, the moon goddess Artemis also picked a leaf, which turned into an eternal silver leaf, and she gave it to Atalanta.

The race was simple: start from the three-foot-high wooden post, reach this place to pluck a leaf, and return the leaf to the post to signal the end of the race.

With the gods as witnesses and Promise's wish, this had now become an eternal race.

Yet, the two gods still entrusted the leaves that could end the race into their hands.

The meaning of the golden leaf that Apollo gave to Promise was clear, needing no further

explanation.

As for the silver leaf Artemis gave to Atalanta, it carried a different meaning.

On that night depicted in the painting, Atalanta offered everything to Artemis, and now, Artemis was returning the future that Atalanta had offered.

This was because this would be Atalanta's final race, witnessed by the gods.

This race symbolized the marriage that would bind her, the fate foreseen by the goddess of

destiny, Clotho.

By keeping the race ongoing, Promise ensured that Atalanta could forever avoid any contact

with marriage.

However, this also meant that until the race ended, Atalanta would never be able to marry.

Thus, the silver leaf given to Atalanta by Artemis symbolized liberation.

When Atalanta placed the silver leaf on the wooden post at the finish line, it would signify not only the end of the race but also her ability to embrace a different future.

"Goddess Artemis..."

Holding the silver leaf, Atalanta stood stunned for a while, her eyes widening as she slowly

figured out what it meant.

In shock, excitement, and a bit of panic, she looked toward Artemis.

However, before she could speak, she heard a voice that only she could hear-the voice of

Artemis.

"I give this to you because you are my child. I sincerely hope you will find happiness and

eternal joy."

It was a gentle voice.

At this moment, Artemis was truly a goddess.

But...

"But this doesn't mean I'm giving up Promise to you! Even if it's you, little Atalanta, I

absolutely won't let you have him!"

The next second, the gentle voice disappeared, replaced by a tone of exasperation and anger.

Atalanta blinked her sacred green eyes, looking at her goddess in front of her, who had puffed

up her lips and was looking at her unhappily.

Seeing this, the emotions that had surged in her heart vanished in an instant.

Naturally, she tucked the silver leaf away.

With their task complete, the gods were about to leave.

Just before departing, Apollo had to forcibly drag Artemis away... as he finally understood

what was going on.

From the very beginning, Artemis had no intention of bringing Atalanta and Promise

together.

She was thinking about only one thing from the beginning to the end, and that was to steal

things from the believer who respected her the most!

As the gods left, Promise stood beneath the thick ancient tree, gazing at the beautiful

huntress who had been quietly watching him all along.

"Hm? Is something wrong...? Oh, right, Atalanta, do you need to go back for a bit?" Promise still remembered that the king here was Atalanta's nominal father.

"No need," Atalanta answered calmly. "There's no need... I have no family. I was abandoned

long ago, so in this world, the only one who can truly be called my family, my mother, is that one."

"That one" referred to the goddess Artemis who had raised her.

For some reason, Promise had a feeling that when Atalanta said the word "mother," she

emphasized it a little, as if accusing a certain goddess of competing with her own child for

something-truly shameless.

Promise shook his head to get rid of the unnecessary thoughts in his mind, and then subconsciously asked: "Then, shall we leave now?"

"Yes." Atalanta didn't even hesitate before answering, then added quickly, "I'll go wherever

you go..."

At this point, Atalanta sensed something was wrong and after a slight pause, she quickly added: "Because our game is not over yet."

"What are you saying? Are you going to be with me for the rest of my life because of this

competition?"

Promise was speechless and smiled.

Atalanta didn't answer, merely averting her gaze and brushing aside.

Atalanta did not answer this, but shifted her gaze slightly, no longer looking at the boy as she

reached out to press down a stray lock of her azure hair beside her ear.

Thus, the winged horse once again spread its silver-white wings, carrying Promise and

Atalanta into the vast blue sky.

In the Kingdom of Arcadia, the onlookers, including the king, waited for the return of

Atalanta and Promise.

However, they waited a long time, but no result came.

Because this game will continue forever, until one day, the young man or the hunter lady puts

the leaf in her hand on the wooden stake representing the finish line.


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