Shock. Astonishment. Confusion. Disbelief.
On the shoreline of a small island, Heracles lay quietly. The tides ebbed and flowed, the seawater lapping over half of his body before retreating again.
Slowly, he raised a hand to touch his chest.
There, etched deeply into his flesh, was a charred, jagged scar.
The mark stood out starkly against his body—one that seemed like it had been sculpted to perfection by the heavens themselves.
"I… was injured?"
Heracles found it almost impossible to believe.
If he had been wounded in hand-to-hand combat, he might have accepted it as proof of his opponent's immense strength.
But this wound… had been caused by a sword, by a weapon.
He sat up slowly, his dignified gaze locking onto Artoria as she approached, walking across the waves toward him.
"That sword of yours…" he began, his voice low but firm. "What is it?"
"How could it wound me?"
Stopping before him, Artoria met his question with one of her own, her tone laced with quiet disdain.
"Is it really so hard to hurt you?"
"I bear the blessing of the Nemean Lion from my First Labor," Heracles explained, his tone as steady as the earth beneath them. "No weapon forged by man or god should be able to wound me. So why… could your sword bypass that blessing?"
Heracles' unrelenting gaze remained fixed on the blade in her hand, his confusion evident.
Artoria's expression shifted as the explanation dawned on her.
"Ah, I see. Weapons forged by the hands of man or the powers of gods cannot harm you. So, the best method to defeat you would be to emulate your myth—barehanded combat."
She held up her sword, its cursed, blackened glow reflecting off the water.
"But my sword isn't forged by man, nor by any god. It was born deep within this planet, created to repel those who would destroy the stars themselves. It is a holy sword of the stars, meant to vanquish all evil."
"Your invulnerability is useless against my sword."
Though her holy blade had fallen into darkness alongside its master, its origin as a weapon of hope and light remained. The golden radiance it once held had turned into a black glow that devoured hope—but it was still the Sword of the Stars.
Heracles' blessing, which rendered him impervious to mortal and divine creations, could not stand against a weapon born of the very planet itself.
Heracles remained seated on the beach, leaning forward slightly as his hands rested on his knees.
"So… you weren't exaggerating. A sword forged by the stars…"
He let out a long breath before rising to his full height.
The sky above them was clear, stripped of clouds by the aftermath of their earlier battle.
Sunlight cascaded down onto Heracles' towering, chiseled figure, his presence as sharp as a blade and as steady as a mountain.
"My name is Heracles, the [Steel] Hero who has endured countless trials, suffered innumerable curses and blessings, and prevailed through unrelenting hardship."
As he proclaimed his true name, the heavens above and the earth below seemed to respond, massive waves of magical energy rolling off him like mist.
Despite his pride, Heracles carried none of the arrogance displayed by other Heretic Gods. His demeanor was solemn, grounded—enough to make Artoria question if he truly was a Heretic God.
And yet, his overwhelming strength left no room for doubt. This was the most powerful foe she had faced since arriving in this world.
Sensing Heracles' growing seriousness, Artoria raised her head, her gaze cold and unwavering.
"I am Artoria Pendragon, known as King Arthur."
Heracles' brow furrowed in momentary surprise, but he quickly set his curiosity aside.
There was much he could not understand—many strange truths he could not grasp. Yet compared to the battle at hand, these concerns felt trivial.
Still, there was something faintly familiar… some subtle, inexplicable thread of fate linking him to this opponent.
Perhaps it was the influence of another "Heracles."
"Well then, King Arthur… let us continue our battle!"
A faint smile crossed his resolute face. Then, without hesitation, he summoned a massive bow.
Once more, divine words echoed through the air.
"Ares, God of War! I dedicate this victory to you! Hippolyta's Girdle, grant me the power to triumph!"
Heracles' ninth labor was the retrieval of the girdle of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.
The girdle, a gift from Ares himself, symbolized the queen's authority. However, due to Hera's meddling, the Amazons treated Heracles as an enemy. After slaying those who attacked him and capturing Hippolyta, he claimed the war god's girdle as his prize.
The girdle now encircled Heracles' waist, its divine glow intensifying.
This power enhanced his physical abilities across the board, and against female opponents, its effects became even greater.
"Witness my strength! Sky, tremble before it! Earth, quake in its wake! And Hades… fall from your throne on high!"
The massive bow gifted by Apollo gleamed in his hand, its string drawn back to a perfect crescent. Three golden arrows, fletched with radiant feathers, were nocked and ready to fire.
Even for Heracles, whose strength rivaled that of gods, drawing the bow required every ounce of his might.
One could only imagine the devastating power contained in these arrows.
With veins bulging along his arms, Heracles loosed the shot—a strike that had once gravely wounded Hades himself.
"This is the day the gods shall fall!"
The pent-up energy of the bowstring transformed into an arrow of divine destruction.
It tore through the sky, rending the heavens and churning the clouds.
The earth-shaking roar that followed was like the wrath of a god unleashing apocalyptic judgment.
There was virtually nothing in this world that could withstand such an attack.
The mightiest fortress would crumble like sand. Human ingenuity seemed like dust before such divine power.
The arrow, capable of sinking entire islands, streaked toward Artoria like a golden comet.
Its speed was beyond human comprehension. By the time one saw it, it was already upon them.
There was no time to dodge.
Artoria couldn't even lift her holy sword in defense.
In the flash of an instant, she made her decision.
The arrow Heracles had loosed was the culmination of his strength and skill, the pinnacle of his legendary labors.
Around Artoria, black, fiery magical energy erupted like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
If I can't avoid it… then I'll take it head-on.
In the next moment, the arrow arrived faster than the accompanying shockwave, slamming into her arm.
No words could adequately capture the force of its impact.
Under the arrow's violent aftermath, the sea, the air, even the clouds fled from its destructive power.
---
...
Huh. You really stuck it out all the way to the end.
Didn't think you had the patience. Guess I was wrong.
WiseTL's the one who actually made all this come together. I'm just here putting a bow on it… or, well, shoving it in a backpack and calling it a day. Same thing.
If you had fun, you know what to do:
👉 [patreon.com/WiseTL]
Heads up—Patreon's 50% off for all tiers during May. So if you were on the fence? Now's the time.
And if you're the social type, there's a Discord too. Pretty decent spot to hang out—no battles required.
👉 [discord.gg/wisetl]
Alright. That's enough standing around. Go on—before you make it weird.
—Leaf