In Greek Myths, due to the language, there were far too many names starting with "A."
Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, Ares, Astraea, Apate, and so on—it was an endless list.
But "Arthas"? That name was simply outrageous.
"Hera, are you some kind of naming maniac?"
Bolos coughed while recalling the experience of that other Arthas from another world—who ended up being known as the "Father of Sorrow," the Lich King.
Honestly, if he ignored Arthas's final fate and imagined him wielding Frostmourne to chop down Zeus, Bolos wouldn't be against it.
But he felt that continuing the karmic thread of "Bolos" was good enough—no need to rename himself "Arthas."
"Looks like you don't like this name,"
Hera also sensed her beautiful son's rejection of the name. She gently patted his back and began thinking of a new one.
"Hera, I'm here. How's the child?"
Just as Hera was enduring Bolos's playful behavior while nursing and thinking of a name, Zeus finally arrived at her palace to check on his Queen of the Gods and new child.
Hera gave Zeus a cold glance and said nothing, her expression instantly freezing over.
Zeus was long accustomed to his wife being angry. He cheerfully approached and reached out to take the baby from Hera's arms.
"Hmm? Why does he look like this?"
A black-haired, black-eyed child let go of what he was playing with and grinned up at him.
To Hera, it was a pure and innocent smile—but to Zeus, it was as if he were seeing that other black-haired, black-eyed foreign god.
The one who had seduced his lover and made his son and daughter call him "father."
Zeus would bet anything—this child had a few features far too similar to that foreign deity.
"How could my child look like this? He can't be mine!"
Neither Zeus nor Hera, nor even their ancestors, had black hair—and certainly none had eyes as black as Nyx, the Lady of Night.
Having already had lovers stolen from him, Zeus's gaze grew sharp as lightning. Suspicion rose in his heart—he began to suspect Hera.
Hera saw the change in his expression and turned pale. After all, the real child had been thrown off Mount Olympus by her.
Still, she insisted stubbornly, "This is your child."
No matter what, she refused to admit that the "freak" was hers. She didn't want Zeus to retrieve that creature.
"Oh? I made you Queen of the Gods, and this is how you repay me?"
Seeing Hera's pale face only deepened Zeus's suspicion. He now believed this child was born from Hera's infidelity.
And possibly, her lover was none other than that foreign, black-haired, black-eyed god.
"What do you mean by that? When have I ever wronged you?"
Hera was furious. Even if she had thrown away the freak and prayed for a more perfect child, she did it for Zeus and herself.
"Hmph, won't admit it, huh?"
Zeus shouted to the rainbow goddess: "Iris! Go summon the Goddess of Justice and have her bring the Prophetic Oracle!"
Iris trembled. She looked at Hera but didn't dare speak or move.
"Hurry up!"
When she still didn't act, Zeus's hand sparked with crackling lightning.
Iris panicked. No longer daring to wait for Hera's orders, she immediately went to the Divine Temple of Justice and invited the goddess who represented law and justice to come.
"What's going on that you called me so urgently?"
The Goddess of Justice arrived in a white robe, golden crown on her head. She was tall and slender, with a cold and intelligent expression. From head to toe, she radiated dignity and discipline.
"So this is Themis, the most beloved daughter of the first King of the Gods—goddess of justice?"
Bolos observed silently. "If she wore glasses, she'd have the aura of a strict and beautiful schoolteacher."
Of course he knew of Themis. Among the twelve Titans, her power was perhaps second only to that of the former King of the Gods, Cronus.
Back when Uranus ruled the heavens, she had already gained the Divine Office of overseeing justice and order.
Later, when she saw her brother Cronus swallowing his children out of fear of fate, she chose to aid Zeus in overthrowing him.
One could say her contribution to Zeus becoming King of the Gods was second only to that of Metis, the Goddess of Wisdom, who had constantly offered him advice.
She was Zeus's aunt, and also his second wife. During the Titanomachy, she united with Zeus and gave birth to the Horae and the Fates—making her Zeus's eldest daughter as well.
However, after learning Zeus had swallowed Metis, Themis became deeply disappointed in him. She created the laws of marriage and invented the concept of family, laying out obligations between men and women to restrain Zeus.
The status that Hera enjoyed as Queen of the Gods owed much to Themis.
Therefore, Themis was the only goddess Hera acknowledged as her equal—one who could sit beside Zeus on his throne and help govern the cosmos.
At times, Hera even respectfully referred to her as "Lady Themis."
"Lady Justice, you are a Divine Being both Hera and I trust. You also hold the Oracle. Please use the Prophetic Oracle to determine whether this black-haired, black-eyed child is truly mine."
Zeus's face was cold. Hera's face was pale. Meanwhile, the newborn in her arms was giggling innocently.
Themis looked at Hera curiously. She couldn't believe that a goddess with Hera's personality would ever cheat.
Wasn't cheating more Zeus's thing?
Of all the goddesses she knew, none craved power more fervently than Hera.
As Queen of the Gods, the risk of infidelity was too great.
Themis took out a cloth strip and blindfolded herself. Then, a stone slab shaped like a rose from her body, emitting a gentle light and hovering above her head.
"The blindfold of the Goddess of Justice…"
Bolos murmured to himself.
In the era of the first King of the Gods, the gods were constantly at odds. No one dared step forward to mediate.
The young were too easily swayed. The wise were too afraid to speak against power.
After searching heaven and earth, they couldn't find a suitable candidate.
Then, one day, a white-robed, gold-crowned goddess beside Uranus stood up, tied a cloth over her eyes, and declared boldly, "I will do it!"
The gods looked and had no choice but to agree:
Since she had blindfolded herself, she couldn't see the disputants' identities and therefore wouldn't be swayed by bribes or cowed by power.
That goddess was the very same Themis—now here to arbitrate the conflict between Zeus and Hera.
"Prophetic Oracle, grant me revelation. Is the child in Hera's arms truly the son of Zeus?"
As her cold voice rang out, an illusory river flowed beside the stone tablet, connecting fragments of past, present, and future.
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