I Became Artemis’ Boyfriend

What are the chances that Zeus, in his mistake, would throw a lightning bolt at me, now that I’ve become the boyfriend of his daughter, Artemis?

There’s really no need to say more.

It’s about as likely as the sun rising tomorrow morning.

When I disclosed my true feelings and made it clear that I wouldn’t back down, Zeus also drew a line through indirect threats.

If I stubbornly insist here, I might somehow become Artemis’ lover against her will.

However, on the way back to the temple in high spirits, Zeus would pretend it was a mistake and throw a lightning bolt to kill me.

If Zeus himself claims it was a mistake, who would question it deeply?

Recalling the fact that my life hangs solely on Zeus’ mood makes me break out in cold sweat and my hair stand on end.

Calm down.

The person who still holds the upper hand in this negotiation is me.

Let’s start by drawing out Zeus’ true thoughts.

“Lord Zeus. I sincerely admire and deeply yearn for Artemis within my heart.”

“Normally, those with dirty intentions wrap their schemes with the beautiful word ‘love’ to deceive. But in front of an expert like me, you’re putting on airs… Ah!-tta-tta!”

Leto pinches Zeus’ side with a smiling face while he squirms like a fish.

Though Zeus’ flailing about is quite striking, let’s skip over it now to maintain a solemn atmosphere.

“I can prove my pure intentions.”

“How?”

“Platonic love.”

“What do you mean?”

Zeus frowns, seemingly unable to understand.

Rather, his response is more like a counter-question on whether such a thing is even possible.

“Purity isn’t something that simply refers to chastity or being a virgin.”

“Ho? So you’re discussing philosophy in front of me, the chief deity?”

“Not at all. I view purity as a conviction. This is how I feel about Artemis.”

“…”

“…”

With my firm answer, a moment of silence flows through the living room.

A silent battle of nerves takes place as we try to gauge each other’s intentions.

“What, what… what…”

Artemis, whose ears have turned red, repeatedly stammers the same words, unable to keep up with our conversation.

From her perspective, this is just an issue that could be resolved by settling the wish, but it now seems to be spiraling further into complications.

Her trembling eyes suggest an intuitive understanding that the situation is getting out of hand.

On the other hand, Leto is excitedly listening to the story from afar as if watching a distant spectacle.

Only Zeus understands my resolve: that I, like him, am not stepping back any further.

He taps his temple with his index finger while holding his chin, exhales a deep breath, and slowly begins to speak.

“It seems there’s nothing I can do. A trial then.”

“Trial?”

What trial is he referring to?

“Do you, Ark, truly intend to protect Artemis’ purity and pursue a pure love?”

“That’s correct.”

I nod confidently.

Zeus, having received my firm reply, slightly turns his head to the left and looks at Artemis.

“Artemis, you reject the very existence of a boyfriend, do you not?”

“Of course! It’s obvious, Daddy.”

Artemis, who seems to be asking her father to resolve this somehow, looks up at him with gleaming eyes in a pitiful way.

Glaring at me once again, she growls.

Her usual hot-tempered and stubborn nature couldn’t be more contrasting, making her appear scary but also surprisingly fascinating.

Confirming our two positions, Zeus meets my gaze with a firm resolution.

“Ark, do you know the Twelve Labors of my son Heracles?”

“Yes, I’m aware of them.”

Isn’t anyone familiar with the Twelve Labors a fan of Greek-Roman mythology?

It’s the story of the hero of heroes, Heracles, receiving an oracle to atone for his sins and overcoming twelve trials.

The famous story of slaying the nine-headed Hydra is one of the Twelve Labors.

These stories of solving impossible tasks in unforeseen ways are endlessly fascinating, no matter how many times you read them.

But the fact that the Twelve Labors have been brought up at this moment…

“Ah, Dad… Surely not?”

Artemis also seems to have easily read Zeus’ thoughts.

Zeus nods in agreement.

“Yeah.”

At first, Zeus threatened that if I kept being stubborn, he would strike me down with lightning.

In response, I stepped back a bit and countered by promising a platonic love that wouldn’t tarnish Artemis’ authority.

Therefore, Zeus, as a mediator, had no choice but to take a step back as well.

Thus, the proposed mediation plan is the trial.

“Ark. If you overcome the Twelve Labors, Zeus, the chief deity of Olympus, will officially recognize you as my daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Of course, Dad!”

Hearing the Twelve Labors, Artemis beams with delight.

She springs to her feet, raises her arms, runs to Zeus, and tightly hugs his neck while planting kisses all over his cheek.

Zeus playfully pushes her away, saying it’s gross, but he beams widely.

To us onlookers, there’s no denying that he’s completely spoiled for his daughter.

Watching the silly Zeus makes me feel a bit envious.

“Isn’t it a bit too early to celebrate? I haven’t yet accepted Zeus’ proposal.”

“Hmph!”

I threw out a jab laced with a hint of jealousy, but Artemis snorted in disdain and frowned.

Untangling the arms she’d draped around Zeus’ neck, she strides confidently toward me.

She points an index finger at me in a commanding manner.

“This is your dad offering you a chance.”

“To me, it seems quite disadvantageous.”

“Then die like a mayfly! Be struck by lightning and perish as a day-boyfriend!”

Ugh…

This cunning goddess…

She’s confident that I can’t turn down Zeus’ mediation plan.

Though her statement isn’t entirely wrong, it’s still quite irritating.

Let me push back a bit.

“Aren’t you being a bit too confident, Lady Artemis? If I achieve the twelve tasks, I’ll truly become your boyfriend, right?”

“Hmph, boyfriend? Pfft! Pu-hahaha-haha~”

Artemis clutches her stomach and bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

Even when Leto casts a shadowy, terrifying smile at her daughter’s frivolous laughter, Artemis remains unfazed with a dopamine rush.

Wiping away the tears formed from laughter, she continues.

“Dad’s Twelve Labors aren’t trials that a mere human can overcome.”

I understand why Artemis asserts this so confidently.

Up to this point, no one except Heracles has succeeded in completing the Twelve Labors.

Failing the Twelve Labors doesn’t simply lead to death.

There’s no such sweet failure as death.

It’s said that one will remain trapped in the Twelve Labors forever, neither dead nor alive, endlessly treading the hot floor of a kiln between this world and the underworld while running in circles like a hamster on a wheel to achieve the trials.

The word “task” itself implies something that “must be accomplished” no matter what.

“To become my daughter’s lover, the Goddess of Purity, this seems reasonable. What do you think?”

Zeus, tired of waiting for my answer, finally demands a response.

There seems to be no way to avoid this.

Alright, let’s enjoy it.

“First, I’d like to know the format of the Twelve Labors.”

“I’m merely the mediator. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to be the one assigning tasks. Hmm… Let’s do it this way.”

After briefly pondering, Zeus rises from his seat and steps toward a side wall in the living room.

Raising his clenched right fist, he strikes it down like a seal onto the pristine white wall.

Kwa-ji-jik.

Sparks fly around as black letters appear on the white wall and begin to fill it with text.

1. All tasks will be set by Artemis herself.

2. Each task must include a non-repeating character.

3. Each task will last two weeks.

Thus, the conditions of the Trials have been written.

Although it was troubling that Artemis herself would determine the themes for my tasks, the second clause effectively prevented any underhanded tactics, making it appear rather fair.

“Do you need an explanation of clause 2?”

“Not necessary.”

For example:

If the first task is to incur Athena’s hatred and I achieve it through all kinds of vicious acts,

then the next task is to earn Athena’s respect within just two weeks,

which is impossible to simply reverse like turning over a palm.

Hence, by preventing character repetition, ensuring that each task operates independently without influencing the others, it’s advantageous for me.

“Hmph, I see now why the rumors about a competent priest of Artemis were not exaggerated.”

“Your kind words flatter me. I can only express my admiration for Zeus’ keen insight in crafting such fair rules in such a short time.”

“Hahaha! The better the words, the more caution is needed. Your pointed praise is genuinely refreshing.”

Is there any better compliment than mutual recognition?

The back-and-forth with Zeus wasn’t unpleasant.

“With one more condition, I’d accept the proposal.”

“You got it. What is it?”

“I’d like to receive small rewards for each task I successfully complete.”

“Why is that?”

“I’ll only achieve the qualification to be a boyfriend if I succeed in all twelve tasks. One failure and it’s over. I think this violates fairness.”

Initially, my wish needed no Twelve Labors.

It was just a matter between Artemis and me.

But because I became afraid of Zeus’ lightning and agreed to the Twelve Labors to satisfy his preferences, this condition seems reasonable.

I’m not a pushover, after all.

“Hmm. What do you think, Artemis?”

“Hihi. Sure, Dad.”

When Zeus casually asks, Artemis readily agrees.

Of course, she’s entirely confident that I won’t succeed in the Twelve Labors.

She seems to be in no way bothered by small demands like this.

Having reached an agreement, Zeus strikes the wall again with his fist adorned with lightning.

4. Each task carries a reward for success. (Subject to prior mutual consent.)

With that, my condition was immediately reflected.

“In the name of Zeus, the chief deity of Olympus, the Twelve Labors shall commence. Ark shall be recognized as Artemis’ provisional boyfriend.”

“That’s sufficient.”

“After completing the Twelve Labors, Ark and Artemis will publicly declare their relationship as lovers. Artemis, no objections, right?”

“Of course, Dad.”

Since breaking the oath of the River Styx isn’t possible, we’ve devised a workaround with a temporary boyfriend status.

Though “temporary,” it grants no rights or privileges.

I wouldn’t even be permitted to whisper words of affection.

It’s like having a license that’s never used, but why not?

Right now, I’m brimming with self-confidence, feeling capable of plucking stars from the sky.

“Lord Zeus and Lady Leto have become witnesses. Do both of you have no objections?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“With that, this meeting is concluded.”

Zeus confirms and snaps his finger.

Beneath our feet, a black circle forms.

Like an ice cream melting on the floor in summer, our bodies begin to dissolve, soon being consumed by the darkness.

As unexpected light pierces through my dilated pupils like a camera flash, I feel a slight pain and close my eyes tightly.

When I open them again, we’ve returned to the Temple of Artemis.

The central hall, now so familiar to me.

At the center stands the statue of Artemis aiming her bow at the moon as the Goddess of Purity, with the 9th-grade priest, Ark, facing her in defiance.

At the same moment, sunlight streams in, illuminating the vibrant stained glass with a myriad of colors.

The light filters through the colored glass, bathing us in hues symbolic of our roles: a spotlight illuminating our showdown.

As if introducing the blue and red corner boxers, the host announces—

To the one who is determined to claim the Virgin Goddess, he is bathed in blue light.

To her, determined to stop him, she is bathed in red.

Thus, with our eyes locked on each other, we feel the prelude to the upcoming battle in our every nerve.

Artemis lets her long hair fly gracefully in the strong wind, embracing it completely.

“I was foolish. I kept someone around because they did their job well, only to discover you were a Trojan Horse challenging my authority.”

She mocks me with a twisted smile, rejecting my sincerity.

The doting daughter of her father is gone.

Now stands only a top-tier hunter revealing her wild nature as if spotting a beast.

“Artemis.”

“Huh? Look at this guy? A 9th-grade priest being disrespectful? Disrespectful?!?!”

“I’m your boyfriend before I’m a priest. Where are the boyfriends who speak respectfully to their girlfriends?”

“Temporary, that’s all. Soon, you’ll be in the underworld.”

Two steadfast individuals, neither willing to back down.

The air of the hall becomes charged with their determination, clashing and colliding.

“Whether it’s temporary or official doesn’t matter. What matters is the heart, isn’t it?”

“Hah! You’re joking. What heart? And what? …a platonic love? Go speak that nonsense in your sleep!”

“Then am I sleepwalking now?”

“Don’t try to wriggle out of it. You’re a priest, and I’m a goddess. Use proper honorifics.”

She sticks to the hierarchical relationship and strongly guards against any form of intimacy.

It’s a strategy to reinforce the existing relationship, rejecting any drastic changes.

Is the gap between a goddess and a human unbridgeable?

“Hmph!”

It’s strange.

I feel no trace of frustration.

The more obstacles she places in front of me, the firmer my resolve to overcome them becomes.

“What is it? Why are you laughing?”

“Something just occurred to me. The reward for the first task. Being able to speak informally to Lady Artemis. How about it?”

“Hmph! What a coincidence. I’ve also decided on the first task.”

“Wow, scary. I’m already looking forward to how difficult it’ll be. So don’t disappoint my expectations now, will you?”

In response to my provocative statement, she similarly replies with a mocking smile.

“Hohohoho! I’ll show you your place, human. Watching you wander in the pits of hell after failing the first trial will be one of my greatest pleasures.”

Alright, let’s see who will laugh last!

And so, Artemis and I clashed over the position of her boyfriend.

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