Seeing that her grandniece had made up her mind, Hestia could only wave her hand helplessly.
"Fine, do as you please. I can't control these things anyway."
"You say that so easily. If you could really let go, would you still be camping out in Knossos all day long?"
Athena rolled her eyes at Hestia across from her, ruthlessly exposing her aunt's duplicity.
At those words, the Hearth Goddess's cheeks flushed slightly red as she stiffened her neck in protest.
"I just like the food here. I like the down-to-earth, lively atmosphere!"
"Sure, sure, whatever you say..."
Athena replied without a shred of sincerity, her gaze full of teasing amusement.
Under the smiling eyes of her niece, the increasingly flustered Hestia turned red with embarrassment and angrily stood up to chase her away.
"Go, go, go! Don't bother me if you have nothing else to do!"
"Alright, alright, I'm leaving, okay?"
Athena raised her hands in surrender, stood up from her seat, and casually called for Nike to leave with her.
However, just as the two were stepping out the door, the wise goddess turned her head back with an almost lazy glance, the corners of her lips curling up.
"But we agreed, this time, you can't blame me."
"Huh?"
Hearing such a cryptic remark, Hestia was stunned for a moment.
But before she could react, the ground beneath her feet began to shake violently, and a surging tide of wild magic erupted like a boiling storm.
"Boom!"
In that instant, accompanied by a thunderclap from the clear sky, the entire backyard erupted.
Grass flew into the air, leaves scattered, and countless flecks of green mud rained down like a torrential downpour.
Stiffly turning her head, Hestia stared blankly at the yard, now gouged as if dug three feet deep—her vegetable patch and flower garden reduced to ruins.
At the center of the chaos stood a tall figure, wrapped in surging, crimson blood-like energy.
"My vegetable patch... my garden... I never should've planted them..."
The Hearth Goddess's eyes were hollow, and she mumbled softly, her voice tinged with the sound of impending tears.
Seeing Hestia's soul-crushed expression, Lorne, who was the one responsible for the devastation, quickly raised his hands in surrender and forced a smile as he made a promise.
"Please! I'll pay! I'll pay for everything, okay?"
Hearing someone agree to pay, Hestia's expression finally brightened, though she still glared viciously as she raised two pale fingers.
"Not enough! I want double!"
"Fine, whatever you say."
Lorne agreed in a hurry, forcing a bitter smile as he signed this unwritten contract, silently consoling himself in his heart.
Double compensation? So be it.
After all, he was in the wrong.
He could consider it a form of repayment for the food, lodging, and care the Hearth Goddess had offered them.
A little labor was better than ending up on bad terms with one of the rare gods who was kind to humans.
~~
Time flew by, and several months passed in the blink of an eye.
In the early morning, just as the sky over Crete began to brighten, the residents of Knossos Royal City gradually opened their doors, smoke from cooking fires rose, and they began preparing breakfast.
The clattering of pots and pans, mixed with the crowing of roosters and barking of dogs, gradually awakened the bustling essence of the city.
"Zeus, f**k your grandpa!"
Waking up in bed, Lorne, as usual, raised his middle finger and offered a wave of "blessings" to his god-king old man.
Another daily routine began—with blasphemy.
Immediately after, this guy who spoke ill of the gods raised his hand and summoned a twelve-sided die from within his body, rolling a number.
12? Hermes' blessing?
Today's luck wasn't bad.
Lorne muttered to himself, then sat up from bed, lazily stretching his limbs.
From the spinning twelve-sided die beside him, a faint blue divine energy strand was silently drawn from the invisible air and channeled into the host's body.
He closed his eyes and felt the added lightness in his flesh and the subtle boost in his reflexes, unable to hold back a satisfied moan.
After a moment, that wonderful sensation gradually faded, and he opened his eyes, sincerely praising that big family of relatives atop Mount Olympus.
Damn, loot from the Twelve Olympians really hits the spot!
This divine blessing from Hermes seemed focused on enhancing physical reaction speed—[Agility].
Maybe a 3% improvement?
A benefit in exchange for one curse?
That's a damn good deal!
Lorne glanced at the twelve-sided die on the bedside that had automatically dispersed into a stream of light, somewhat unsatisfied, and gently touched the slowly fading Hecate's Wheel on his chest, even starting to miss how that thing used to trick him into rolling.
After several months of running-in, he'd further figured out some of the rules of the [Dice of Chance].
First of all, since the friendship pool could yield items like [Icarus' Wings], which could have a huge impact in specific situations, it definitely wasn't all junk.
And the reason he hadn't pulled anything good lately was most likely due to the low difficulty of daily tasks.
After all, low risk should correspond to low reward—that's only fair.
Whether it's [Inevitability] or [Chance], they generally follow this kind of pattern.
However, when the frequency becomes high enough, the advantage of [Chance] starts to show.
—It really can drop good stuff.
For example, receiving blessings or divine baptisms corresponding to the numbers of the gods.
—Ares's Indomitable Battle Will, Demeter's Life Healing, Poseidon's Affinity with Water, Apollo's Intuition, Hermes's Agility and Speed…
These all have a chance of being obtained through [Random Opportunity] after committing blasphemy against the [Inevitable Twelve Olympians].
Of course, the probability is very low.
So far, Lorne had used up his saved 100 pulls, and only managed to draw Hermes once, Ares twice, Apollo once, and Hestia once from the normal pool.
Moreover, while these divine baptisms did bring improvements, the extent wasn't very large.
And since each of the twelve Olympians holds more than one authority, the randomness was also considerable.
Among them, the divine baptism from Hestia was the hardest to accept.
Probably because of her authority as the goddess of hearth and home, that particular divine baptism actually enhanced his control over kitchen utensils and culinary skills…
Lorne really wanted to complain..
After all, was he supposed to rely on that in a life-or-death battle with an enemy, bursting into the kitchen and shouting:
—Pots and pans, submit to me?
That image was so ridiculous, he didn't dare imagine it too clearly.
Still, while getting nice benefits from the normal pool was definitely important, what truly caught Lorne's attention was the fact that the twelve-sided die could actually strip divine essence originating from the fated authority of the Twelve Olympians and infuse it into him.
This thing… is seriously overpowered, isn't it?
And all along, a certain speculation in his heart now seemed to be confirmed.
—Using the variable of chance to pry open the inevitability of fate, ultimately collapsing the very foundation of the gods.
Perhaps, this is the true purpose of the [Die].
Lorne's eyes flickered with a dim light, lost in thought.
High risk, high reward.
Willing to spend such a heavy cost—looks like that [Angel Investor] of his wants quite a lot.
But soon, he sneered and shook his head.
Forget it.
Now that it's confirmed this path can shake the divine authority of fate, there's no need to dwell on those things for now.
At the moment, he's just a pawn crossing the river, far from the point where he can sit at the table and go all-in to decide life and death.
Once he's gathered enough capital, then it won't be too late to place his bets.
So, today's task is...
Lorne took a deep breath, solemnly bid farewell to the warm bed, got up and went downstairs, grabbed a hoe, and charged toward the backyard nursery.
—Digging holes, farming!
(End of Chapter)
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