TRAVEL BETWEEN REALMS

Chapter : Godblood and Dragonfire

David didn't want to speak to her any longer.

Without another word, he turned away and began walking in the direction of the enclave where he'd rented his room.

But before he could get far, her voice called out behind him.

"Wait."

He stopped mid-step.

Her tone wasn't mocking or playful this time—it was softer, almost uncertain.

David didn't turn to face her. His back remained to her, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched.

"What do you want now?" he asked, voice edged with weariness.

He waited, half-expecting another demand or cryptic remark.

But she didn't respond right away.

And David, still turning around, and his gaze meet her's.

Without warning, Angelia tossed a scroll toward the sky, letting it arc in the air before it dropped neatly into David's waiting hand.

"What's this?" he asked, catching it effortlessly.

She didn't even look back.

"It's a map," she replied over her shoulder. "Meet me at the marked point. Same time tomorrow."

And with that, she walked away, disappearing into the bustling streets of Argos .

David stared down at the scroll in his hand—made from cured animal hide, etched with ink that shimmered faintly with divine magic. Every fiber in his body wanted to tear it in half and walk away from the ridiculous oath he'd just taken. The urge to abandon the entire situation gnawed at him like fire.

But before he could act on the impulse, Albion's voice snapped through the silence.

"Don't even think about it. You swore an oath under the name of a goddess—and one known specifically for binding others to their promises. Try to break it, and you'll suffer consequences that might just kill you."

David gritted his teeth. "I know. But I still don't like being dragged around by my nose."

"Deal with it, brat," Albion said bluntly. "You're the one who got careless. You lost me. If you hadn't been so reckless, none of this would've happened."

David clenched the scroll tightly, the truth of his father's words weighing heavily on his conscience. He had let his guard down. That much was true. But there was still one thing he needed to ask.

"…Why didn't you fight back?" he asked quietly. "You just let her take you."

Albion repeated firmly. "Do you really want to cause a divine incident the first day we step foot in Greece?"

That gave David pause.

A dragon lashing out in a sacred city, against a demigod in her own father's City? That could end with more than just political backlash—it could lead to divine retribution.

He sighed and began walking, the scroll now tucked carefully under his arm.

No matter how much he hated it, his father was right.

This wasn't a fight they could afford.

With the map tucked securely under his arm, David began walking back toward the enclave he had rented for the week.

As he moved through the streets, he quietly took in everything around him.

Guards rushed in the direction of the distant fire, their weapons clattering at their sides. Civilians gathered at street corners, whispering nervously as they glanced toward the rising smoke on the horizon. Some simply passed by without care, as if forest fires were just another part of daily life in Argos.

David's eyes lingered on each scene, but he didn't stop.

"The gods sure are taking their time putting out that fire," he muttered under his breath.

As he passed through the thinning crowd, the atmosphere began to change. Laughter echoed from nearby taverns. Couples strolled through gardens, lost in their own worlds. Even beggars lingered in alleyways, hidden in shadow, some too broken to notice the divine unease in the air.

Eventually, David reached the inn. Quietly, he ascended the stairs to his room.

Once inside, he shut the door behind him and said a single word under his breath:

"Mauna."

At once, the air shifted. A ripple of magic spread through the room as the energy from David's body created a barrier—a silencing field. No sound could pass beyond it. No prying ears would hear what was about to be said.

His tone grew serious as he sat down and addressed the pendant hanging around his neck.

"Father. Tell me everything you know about her."

Albion responded calmly, without flair.

"She's one of Hermes' children. From what I can sense, she's likely a minor goddess—a demigoddess on the verge of ascension. She hasn't gained full control over her dominions like a true Olympian god, but the potential is there."

"So... she's not fully matured yet," David mused aloud.

"No," Albion confirmed. "But that doesn't mean she's weak. Even a minor deity inherits fragments of divine authority. And she's clearly learned to use hers well."

David leaned back, mind racing. That explained how she had erased both her presence and Albion's, slipping through detection like mist in the wind.

"She completely disappeared from my senses," he muttered. "Even yours."

"She tapped into her father's domains," Albion said. "Hermes rules over boundaries, roads, travelers, merchants, thieves, athletes, shepherds, commerce, speed, cunning, language, oratory, wit, and messages. Any one of those could give her an advantage—combined, they make her a nightmare to track."

David narrowed his eyes, thinking hard.

"She's fast... cunning... unpredictable. If she decides to betray the deal after it's over, she could vanish again. And next time, I might not be able to find her."

He looked down at the scroll again, now resting on the table beside him.

His mind began to run through the possibilities—her powers, her lineage, and what kind of threat she could pose if things went wrong.

Whatever this "quest" was, he had a feeling it wasn't as simple as exterminating monsters.

Not with a child of Hermes.

A thought sparked in David's mind, and a subtle smile curved his lips.

"Father," he said, eyes gleaming with purpose. "Tomorrow morning—let's visit the Temple of Iris."

There was a brief pause before Albion replied with simple understanding.

"…Yes."

---

Somewhere in the city of Argos...

A quiet tavern lit by enchanted lanterns buzzed with low chatter and clinking mugs, but one table in the far corner remained cloaked in an invisible aura of tension.

Angelia sat at it, her posture relaxed—but her eyes watchful.

Across from her sat two individuals. Both powerful. Both dangerous.

The first was a mountain of a man—his skin bronze and weathered like sun-kissed earth, muscles coiled beneath his tunic like they were carved from stone itself. His wild black hair tumbled down to his shoulders, and his sharp blue eyes burned with quiet judgment. Even seated, he towered over them, his massive frame dominating the space.

Beside him sat a more curious figure—a man with pale, almost porcelain skin, and strange plant-like green hair that seemed to shift subtly with his mood. There was something unearthly about him. His expression was calm, thoughtful, but in his eyes—an eerie gleam. A hunger. As though he were waiting for something… or someone.

Both men were silent for a beat.

Then the giant spoke, his voice deep and steady, laced with restrained disapproval.

"You really are out of line, you know that, right?"

Angelia didn't flinch. She leaned back in her seat, folding her arms behind her head with a smile that bordered on arrogant.

"Oh? That's the first thing you say to me after I call you both in?"

The green-haired man chuckled softly. "You expected praise you after angry a dragon and force and join you."

"Hey I did not have a choice." she said, her tone sharp. "He would have rejected me if I have not done that."

At those words both of the man just look at her in the eyes for few second to the sun if she is lying or not but both the same into one conclusion that he was not lie but the big man till couldn't let her of the hook this is.

"still You also nearly got yourself killed," the giant muttered, crossing his arms. "If his instincts had flared a little earlier, you'd be a smear on the forest floor."

"But I'm not," Angelia said coolly, picking up her goblet. "And now he's bound to me by a Styx oath."

The plant-haired man tilted his head, amused. "Clever... reckless, but clever."

"Reckless is how you get results in this pantheon," she replied. "And I need results. Fast."

The green-haired man leaned forward, his strange, glowing eyes fixed on Angelia. His voice was calm, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable.

"You should be more concerned about the dragon than your results," he said. "From what we've seen, he's either an Apex… or the child of one. You do know the stories about them, don't you?"

Angelia reclined in her chair, legs crossed, arms behind her head—her expression casual, yet unshaken.

"I know the stories," she said coolly. "But I don't plan to be around long enough for them to matter. Once this quest is done, I vanish. Off the radar. Completely."

The towering man beside them narrowed his eyes, his voice like rolling thunder. "And what about us?"

She smirked. "Simple. Act like you were forced to join me. Victims of coercion. Pretend I blackmailed you or threatened your lives."

The two men exchanged glances. It was subtle—an arched brow, a faint nod, the briefest flick of the eyes—but a silent understanding passed between them. The plan was reckless... but it might just work.

Still, a tension lingered around their table like a coiled serpent waiting to strike. Dangerous games were being played. Ancient powers were shifting. Threads had been pulled, and fates were already beginning to unravel.

None of them could predict where this path would lead.

But all of them felt it.

Something ancient was beginning to stir.