"Is there any greater glory than triumphing over the gods present here? So, my Divine Queen Wet Nurse, why don’t you put forth the next trial right here and now?"
Yes, Nezha had grown somewhat bored of the mundane games like chasing pigs; instead of wasting time on trivial tasks, it seemed much more entertaining to engage with the gods present here in earnest.
After all, the value of directly challenging the gods was incomparable to other trials.
Hera, who initially planned to go easy on Hercules after warming up to him, couldn’t help but frown. Humans are humans; gods are gods. No matter how strong Hercules might be, he is not a god.
The other gods present felt the provocation sharply—a mere demigod, even if he were the son of Zeus, could not defile the dignity of the gods. Instantly, the banquet’s atmosphere plunged into an icy abyss.
Athena believed Hercules was being far too reckless. Given sufficient time to grow, Athena was confident he could become one of the mightiest gods. But now...
Her eyes darted as she tried to offer Hercules a way out.
"Haha, I suppose our great hero has enjoyed his first Olympian banquet a little too much—got a bit drunk, perhaps. Hebe, oh youthful goddess, since the Divine King has decided to wed you to Hercules, why don’t you take him down to rest for a bit?"
Beside her, Artemis chimed in, "Indeed, our great hero must be overwhelmed—whether by the sweet wine or the sweet tidings, who can tell?"
Hebe, under the piercing gazes of all gods, felt a bit timid but, gathering her courage at the thought of Hercules, replied, "Yes, I will take care of him."
Nezha appreciated their good intentions, but having gauged the strength of the Olympian gods earlier today, he realized there was no need to keep patiently "leveling up." These gods were like children wielding big blades—nothing particularly intimidating.
He turned to Hebe, offering her a kind smile before calmly saying, "No need. I am not drunk. This is my true intention. There is no greater glory in this world than defeating the gods."
"And I, Hercules, will challenge you all with my mortal body."
A wave of angry indignation swept through the proud gods. Some of the more hot-tempered among them immediately summoned their weapons. Aphrodite, standing behind Nezha, seized the opportunity to fan the flames. She sneered, "You, a mere human—how dare you compare yourself to the ancient gods? Such arrogance deserves punishment!
Ares, why don’t you teach this brazen fool a lesson on behalf of the gods? Let him understand that the glory of the gods is inviolable!"
Ares, already seething with fury, only needed the prompting of his own goddess to ignite fully. He was now ready to erupt.
Hera, watching her hotheaded son being manipulated like a pawn, looked on helplessly. But she knew there was no stopping the War God Ares—battle was his divine domain, and no one could stand in the way of his fights.
In Zeus’s gaze flashed an indistinct brilliance; truthfully, he, too, wished to test Hercules’s limits—could this mortal truly pose a threat to his authority?
"Very well then," Zeus said, his voice carrying the weight of divine decree. "Since you insist, Hercules, the seventh trial will now be this: defeat the War God Ares. If you succeed, it will prove your worth to challenge the gods. If you fail, then you must obediently return to the Mortal World."
Zeus’s words were clearly tilted in favor of the gods—after all, he had to represent their collective interests.
Nezha, however, maintained his calm demeanor throughout. Behind him, Aphrodite watched with delight, convinced that Hercules was about to meet his doom. As Ares raised his colossal spear, heavy as a mountain, preparing to strike, Hercules’s steady voice rang out again.
"I am still not satisfied."