Strongest Single Father in Arcadia Academy

The interior was as dilapidated as the exterior, with broken furniture and faded tatami mats scattered across the floor. The front doors opened again. More figures were pouring in, hooded men having guided other homeless individuals here. Some of the homeless people looked wary, their eyes darting around nervously. Not everyone trusted them but they had no choice.

"E-excuse me, but is this really it?" a homeless man asked. 

"Patience," one of the hooded men said gently. "You will all understand soon enough."

"B-but..."

"Not all of us are here. Soon, friends. Soon."

Soon came earlier than expected. The hooded man that had guided Leo made a hand sign and started to chant. 

"Death…ultimate…"

Leo did a double-take. 'Woah, woah, Greek? What kind of old dialect is he using?' 

"The one who will save…the one who will end…he…her…son…the great…" 

It was too different from the Greek he knew, too ancient and broken. He caught some things but others were totally foreign to him.

"ZEN…!"

The floor trembled beneath their feet once he was done. Slowly, the center of the room split open and gave way to a hidden staircase that spiraled downward into darkness. Torches flared to life along the walls.

The wind that Leo detected down there was as dangerous as any other. Just what the hell was this place?

"Descend," Leo's hooded man instructed, gesturing toward the stairs. Leo went ahead first since he was assigned to him in a manner of speaking. He went down the stairs. The group hesitated and followed meekly. One man whimpered softly, clutching a makeshift satchel to his chest.

The staircase opened into a massive underground hall. It was cavernous, the walls lined with more torches that flickered against strange, unrecognizable symbols etched into the stone. 'It's vaguely Greek. Hrm…' 

He side-eyed the walls and their symbols without being able to fully understand them. It seemed to confirm his worst suspicions though. With a clenched fist, wind gusted forward and he closed his eyes to feel the wind and the shape it brushed up on. 

'The crowns and the cows....Could it be…? Some heretic cult of Hera?' 

Hera, the ox-eyed goddess of women and the notoriously jaded wife of Zeus.

From the hall, they entered an assembly area. 

At the far end of the assembly stood a raised platform, where a grand statue of Hera towered above them. It had to be her; from the soft white skin, the big beautiful brown eyes that were as cow-like as in other art works, tall and regal and put together in a way a human could not be. Her face shape was the epitome of royalty. The garbs on the stone statue were loose to show her scarred left breast, left by the great hero Heracles. 

The statue depicted Hera cradling a baby in her arms. The platform was adorned with wreaths of flowers and bowls of offerings—fruits, coins, even small trinkets.

"Bow."

All the hooded men ordered them to do it. There was no longer warmth. There was only demand. The poor dropped to their knees without question, some even lowering their heads toward the stone floor. Leo was not one of them. He wanted to look at what was going on. His eyes flicked upward briefly, catching the figure standing beside the statue—a man draped in robes of deep crimson, his hood down to reveal a pale, angular face with sharp, calculating eyes.

The aura, the power, the divinity.

'This must be the priest. The leader of all this.'

The priest spread his arms wide, his voice booming through the hall. "Welcome, lost lambs of Hera. You have been guided here by her grace, drawn to this sanctuary to find purpose in her divine light."

'Male worshippers of Hera,' Leo thought, his brow furrowing slightly. He kept his expression carefully neutral, staying in character as the leader continued.

"I am Hierophant Meiyu," the priest proclaimed. "We are followers of the Destroyer, servants of Hera's divine will. You are here because you are lost. Broken. Hungry. But worry not, for you have found salvation."

One of the homeless men near the front raised a trembling hand. "Are we, um, going to get food?"

Meiyu's lips curved into a benevolent smile. "You shall find food, my brother, if you are deemed worthy."

'Worthy. Of course.'

Leo didn't care about any of this. The symbols, the chants, the statue—it didn't matter. All he needed was to find something valuable, something worth at least a hundred gold coins, and leave. Whether he fought his way out or played along didn't matter.

Hierophant Meiyu gestured toward the group, his gaze sweeping over them. "Step forward, lambs. Come to the platform and take your first steps toward salvation."

The homeless individuals hesitated but eventually obeyed, shuffling forward in uneven lines. There were approximately eight of them here, including Leo. The eight were guided up the stairs to the platform in small groups, where Meiyu gestured toward a pair of heavy wooden doors beyond the statue.

"Enter," Hierophant Meiyu intoned. "And you shall find your reward."

Leo found himself near the back of the line. Three men were ahead of them. That was what was confusing him.

'Hera is a goddess of women. Why are there only men? Why are all of us men?'

He had seen the rituals worshippers Hera conducted when he was young. Almost always, there was a woman involved. They had to be, for Hera was the goddess of women, marriage, and childbirth. She protected women above all else. 

The line moved steadily, and soon he was behind a thin, wiry man clutching a bundle of rags to his chest. The man's hands trembled as he reached out toward the doors.

Leo's eyes flicked to the doors, his instincts sharpening as his turn approached. He sensed no wind beyond those doors. He tried to, he extended his mana quietly underneath it, and found himself attaching to nothing. If there was wind, Leo could always connect to it.

But behind those doors, through those gaps, there was nothing.

The wiry man placed his hands on the doors, pushing them open with a low creak.