This was his battle of vengeance, a desperate fight with no retreat.
Setting aside their actual divine powers, Thea couldn't match his momentum alone. Remember, he had been nursing his rage for ten thousand years. Just climbing from the earth's core back to the surface had taken six thousand years! Meanwhile, a minute ago, Thea had been discussing stockings and lingerie. Even if he didn't burst into a rage-fueled power-up, she'd be lucky to win. They simply weren't operating on the same wavelength.
Moreover, she was the Goddess of Trade and Wealth—hardly combat-oriented. This Firstborn, like Heracles before him, was an old god who had survived Ragnarok and remained relatively intact. No one knew his exact divine portfolio, but to Thea, it clearly involved combat and vengeance.
When Diana didn't receive an immediate response, she asked again.
Seeing Diana's eager expression, Thea inwardly groaned. She'd need to actually fight the Firstborn to determine who was stronger. Diana definitely fell short, and this was a critical moment in her source integration. Fighting should be avoided if possible.
For the sake of her girlfriend, the Goddess of Trade and Wealth would have to shoulder the burden of facing Zeus's firstborn.
"He's far beneath me," Thea whispered to Diana, affecting an air of arrogant disdain toward their enemy.
"Really? I think he looks pretty strong," Diana replied. Apart from their passionate activities, she hadn't sparred seriously with Thea in a while and genuinely didn't know her current strength after ascending to godhood. Seeing Thea's absolute certainty, she gradually relaxed.
The massive spectral army, appearing slow but moving swiftly, advanced toward Mount Olympus. Invisible pressure began bearing down on everyone.
Antiope, having taken over from Hippolyta, directed the Amazons in establishing defensive lines. Bundles of enchanted arrows and numerous enchanted swords, shields, and armor were distributed to each warrior.
The Amazons were the most elite warriors of this era. Hera hadn't been stingy with them, opening Olympus's treasury and retrieving many precious artifacts from ancient times.
Unlike Hippolyta with her endless schemes, Antiope was a pure warrior. Knowing the Amazons were outnumbered, she established three defensive perimeters and prepared a cavalry unit as a mobile reserve.
The Firstborn's advantage was numbers—endless spectral creatures and beasts outnumbering the Amazons nearly a hundred to one. Using quantity against quality was his strategy.
His massive army combined with his personal martial prowess—this was his confidence in challenging Olympus.
The Greek gods' advantage was their numbers of deities. Even the most useless god was more formidable than those monsters and beasts, capable of toppling masses with a wave of their hand. Their only weakness was that Hera had forcibly conscripted them. They could fight when winning, but expecting them to risk their lives against the Firstborn was impossible.
The oppressive atmosphere lasted an hour. The gods gathered on the mountain peak to observe, exchanging meaningful glances. The prophecy was clear: Zeus's firstborn would kill his brothers and ultimately claim the throne. Several present fit the category of "brothers" in the prophecy.
Each harbored their own calculations. The Firstborn came bearing ten thousand years of hatred, his formidable presence impossible to ignore. No one wanted to stick their neck out.
"Zeus! Hera! According to prophecy, I've come to reclaim what's mine!" The ten-foot-tall Firstborn, wearing his dragon-hide cloak, strode forward and roared at all of Olympus. Following his words, the specters and beasts howled toward the heavens, their hatred causing even the gods to step back involuntarily.
Hera's face showed bitter pain. Fighting her own son brought her no pleasure, but seeing both sides awaiting her response, she reluctantly stepped forward. "Child, I am your mother. I never wanted this. Abandoning you was Zeus's decision."
At the sight of his birth mother, the Firstborn fell momentarily silent. Hera continued, "The prophecy is a farce. I'm willing to correct this mistake. We're still family. Child, will you give me this chance?"
Before the Firstborn could respond, a woman emerged from behind his towering form.
"Brother, don't listen to Hera's lies. She fears you'll take her throne as God King. Laughable—a female God King? What a foolish woman." The woman's features were delicate, a mocking smile playing at her lips. She wore a silk robe and walked barefoot, her voice extremely light and soft, yet every deity on the battlefield, every Amazon warrior, every monster and beast heard it crystal-clear, as if someone whispered directly in their ears.
The invisible energy soothed the Firstborn's heartstrings. His gaze filled once more with hatred.
"Who's that?" Thea asked. She was purely here as Diana's plus-one and didn't recognize the woman beside the Firstborn. Honestly, during their early romance, she'd spent time studying Greek mythology to find common ground with Diana, but eventually abandoned it after discovering too many absurd stories.
She knew the famous ones, but the obscure ones? Sorry, no idea.
"A Trojan princess, Zeus's daughter... Cassandra," answered Ares, the old acquaintance standing beside the two women.
Watching the elderly god wheeze after every sentence, Thea feared he might drop dead at her feet. She smiled awkwardly, acknowledging she'd heard him.
"She has voice powers, but she's only a demigod," Eris, the Goddess of Discord, chimed in from the women's other side with familiar ease. With humanity suppressing warfare, she too had suffered greatly—her once-smooth skin now showed signs of dehydration.
Inciting everyone to fight was Eris's domain. Cassandra's voice powers overlapped with her divine portfolio, which was why she resented the princess.
"Queen Hera, if you don't want Olympus to run with blood, stand aside. Today the prophecy comes true. Your firstborn will claim the throne of God King." Cassandra continued her verbal manipulation. Her demigod power came entirely from herself. At her peak, she couldn't match the gods, but times had changed. Now, burdened by their own portfolios, the gods were actually weaker than this demigod.
Her words weren't quite reality-warping, but their influence stirred everyone's hearts. Except for a few deities and those like Hippolyta wearing mental resistance artifacts, the thought inevitably surfaced: the Firstborn would win, Hera would lose.
The Amazons' morale visibly declined. Hera raised her scepter toward the sky. Lightning stretching thousands of miles split the heavens, its tremendous thunder suppressing the voice magic.
But to Thea, this was overkill. The scepter couldn't be used repeatedly, yet Cassandra's mouth was right there on her face—she could keep talking.
After serving as God Queen too long, Hera's combat experience was sorely lacking. Before battle even began, she'd revealed one of their trump cards. Perhaps she meant to demonstrate her authority, but it really wasn't wise.