“So, what are we waiting for?!” Poseidon asked. “Bring him in already! Lock him in a room and have him send clones and impregnate women! We don’t have that long! He’s just a Red-born – he’ll die of old age in the blink of an eye!”
Many of the gods nodded, though a few looked at him in disdain. Everyone in the hall – both the men and the women – had taken many mortal consorts over the millennia, siring countless children. They did that partly to alleviate the boredom that came with their long lives, and partly because it was good for Remior – to pass their blessings down and improve the quality of the future Green-borns.
But no one could compare with Poseidon, who constantly maintained a most excessive harem of dozens of women, indulging in all sorts of carnal pleasures on a regular basis.
That said, Phoebe had to admit he wasn’t exactly wrong about Percy. Remior had never produced a bloodline even remotely as valuable. She might have even agreed with him if she didn’t have better plans for the boy already.
“I still find this difficult to accept.” Artemis said. “This is all impressive stuff, to be sure, but why are we just letting him get away with killing our Holy Children? Why do we care whether he knows we’re onto him? His opinion is wholly inconsequential!”
Phoebe turned to Ares who had remained silent throughout the meeting. The red-haired god looked back at her, a question lingering in his fiery eyes.
“You’re in charge of our expeditions. In your view, what is the most important resource Remior currently lacks?”
All eyes turned to look at the god of war as he took a few moments to think about it. In some ways, he was the polar opposite of Poseidon. After Phoebe and Zeus, Ares was the most respected in the pantheon. Everyone understood he had an extremely dangerous job, as he was the one who risked his life out there, leading their demigods as they travelled to alien worlds for the sake of their own.
Eventually, he spoke.
“There are all sorts of things that would help us. Another Decree… a way to turn our Yellow-borns into gods… elevating our alchemy and runecrafting… giving all our demigods a second core… All of that is important. But the number one thing holding us back is the relative weakness of our strike force…”
Many faces lit up in understanding, realizing where the god was going with this. It was a well-known fact that gods couldn’t easily step foot on foreign worlds without catastrophic consequences. This wasn’t a problem when discussing barren planets, as they could deploy their demigods and loot whatever resources they needed from them – no Blue or Green, beast or sapient, could possibly compete with a demigod.
But barren worlds didn’t have that many things of value either. The best resources were found on other lesser springs, and most of them had gods protecting them. Since Remior couldn’t deploy their own gods there, they had to rely on their demigods to fight against actual gods.
Naturally, it was always a bloodbath. It took dozens of demigods to hold a god back even briefly. And the losses were inevitably monumental. It was rarely worth it. Raising the average level of their Green-borns would go a long way – and they were definitely going to work on that too – but there was something that would help them a great deal more…
“But he can never reach that level!” Hera exclaimed, likely guessing what Phoebe had in mind. “Even if he gets a spell powerful enough, he has to be a demigod for that to matter! At most, we could maybe push him to Violet or White… And even that would be a tall order! Bridging the gap from Red-borns to Green-borns is something even the Moirais have failed to do!”
“You should have read his Status, Hera.”
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She lifted her gaze from the goddess, scanning the room. Her eyes briefly lingered on each of the others’ faces before she spoke again.
“He had three Masterful spells at Orange.” she said, watching their expressions change again. “He’s improved more since then. He’s defeated Acton in single combat after reaching Yellow with both cores. If it’s him… I’m not only confident he’ll get the spell… I think he’ll go a step farther than others before him. Even at White or Violet… it might just be enough. And even if he can’t quite get to that level, he’ll definitely surpass a regular demigod, so he’ll make a great addition to the strike team regardless.”
The hall broke into chatter as the gods and goddesses discussed this with one another. They all understood the implied meaning in her words. Phoebe was talking about a special designation for certain mortals.
It wasn’t a grade – it was more of a title. Much like titans were simply gods who had created a Decree, there was a similar feat for mortals. Though individuals like that were even rarer than titans. They weren’t necessarily as valuable as them, but they were certainly more important than the average god.
One thing worth remembering was that Remior had already produced three titans in its entire history, and over a hundred gods. But they’d never had one of them. Even among the greater springs, very few did. And of course, when such individuals became gods themselves, they tended to stand out among their peers. Though this part was probably not applicable to Percy, as Phoebe also doubted he could make it that far.
She waited for the commotion to die down before continuing.
“In any case, you all know mages don’t grow without danger,” she said, getting a round of nods back.
In the past, they’d tried to shelter an entire generation of Green-borns, never sending them out of Remior – making sure every last one lived until the very end of their lifespan. At the time, they’d amassed the most demigods they’d ever had at any given point. Over twenty thousand of them, living over a hundred thousand years each. For that, the gods had sacrificed countless opportunities, all for the sake of producing a large batch of new gods all at once.
Not a single one of those demigods managed to take the final step, marking the experiment as a colossal failure. Of course, the gods had feared it would turn out like that from the start – and many had spoken up against it. It was a well-known fact that talents needed danger and adversity to blossom. But they hadn’t been able to resist the temptation, and Remior was still recovering from the losses, having fallen behind many of their rivals.
“What if he dies?” Zeus asked. “If not while under our protection, then out there among the stars.”
“If he dies, he dies.” Phoebe said. “I’ve obviously documented everything he has brought back, and I’ll spread it around Remior sooner rather than later. Even if something happens to him from here on out, we won’t end up empty handed. But I still want to give this a shot.”
“Lady Phoebe… I understand where you’re coming from, but I maintain that it’s safer to capitalize on his ability and ignore his own potential.” Poseidon protested, as all eyes turned to him once more. “Call me a coward if you want, but I don’t want to lose our most promising bloodline on a gamble.”
“You’re all gods, aren’t you?” she snapped back. “You understand better than anyone how important it is to take a risk every now and then. The things he’s already brought us are plenty. Besides, his bloodline and his personal strength go hand in hand. The more things he brings back, the stronger he gets. The stronger he gets, the more clones he can send, and the longer his lifespan will be. His clones will be able to achieve more too.”
“I understand he may fail. But I’m a greedy woman. Always have been. Becoming a goddess only made me greedier. I want it all. I want him to scour the cosmos and loot everything there is to get. And I want him to grow as strong as possible too.”
She closed her eyes, not even bothering to hear their opinions. She’d already made her mind up, and she’d even done them the courtesy of sharing her thoughts with them.
Next, she looked at Hermes.
“A week from now, I want you to spread the message to the Great Houses that Percy of House Avalon – the same person who is behind the Aurora Dew – is also the owner of the two-cored crow. And that he snuck into the Thirsty Valley and murdered two Holy Children. Spread a more accurate poster of him too. Glowing eyes with slit pupils, long dark hair and a beard.”
She turned to the others again.
“The Root and the Great Houses are allowed to do as they please with this information. But I don’t want a single Green-born to get involved in any way. The foolish Parnassus boy brought this upon himself – he won’t be missed. That said, we can’t let our Holy Children keep dying either.”
The others nodded in understanding, though she didn’t pay them any heed. She was already walking away, her thoughts drifting back to the daring boy with the piercing eyes who had turned their world upside down in just a few short years.
The corner of her lips curled upwards.
‘Don’t let me down, Percy.’
If this worked, Remior might finally get one too…
[END OF BOOK 3: SHADOW OF THE HOLY CHILD]