Chapter 432: Discussing with Amaterasu

After several grueling hours of combat and relentless training under the merciless sun, Nathan finally lowered his arms, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Sweat trickled down his temple, stinging his eyes as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. His muscles ached, trembling from the sheer intensity of the session. Every fiber of his body screamed in protest, yet he remained standing, jaw clenched, back straight.

Amaterasu never went easy on him—nor did he expect her to. In fact, it was her exact intention to break him down, only to rebuild him stronger each time. She knew better than anyone what awaited him on the battlefield—beings of incomprehensible power, entities who would show no mercy. And so, neither did she.

Kaguya, on the other hand, wasn’t faring as well. She had dropped to her knees some time ago, arms limp at her sides as her sweat-drenched form trembled. Her long black hair clung to her flushed skin, and her breaths came in shallow gasps as she struggled to recover. She had pushed herself far past her limits, just as Nathan had.

Still, Nathan remained on his feet, even if barely.

“You’ve grown strong, Nate,” Amaterasu finally said, her voice tinged with genuine surprise as she observed him with narrowed eyes. Her radiant form, glowing with a divine light even at rest, seemed momentarily softer—almost proud.

It wasn’t just praise. It was astonishment. She had trained countless warriors, seen countless champions rise and fall. But Nathan… he was something else. The speed of his improvement, the tenacity with which he fought, the stubborn refusal to ever stay down—he was unlike any mortal she had ever known.

“Yeah,” Nathan muttered, eyes dark with thought. “But not strong enough…”

His voice carried a weight that made Amaterasu pause. The edge in his tone wasn’t just about physical fatigue—it was frustration, self-directed and bitter.

His mind wandered back to his recent encounter with Sekhmet and Isis—two of the most ancient and powerful deities still walking the world. Sekhmet hadn’t even broken a sweat. Their clash at Alexandria, if it could be called that, was more of a formality—she was toying with him. And Isis… Isis hadn’t even fought. She had simply waved a hand, and Nathan had been flung across dimensions like a piece of debris. No resistance. No warning. Just raw, effortless divine power.

It made his skin crawl.

“You’re thinking about Isis, aren’t you?” Amaterasu asked, arms folded over her chest, her eyes gleaming with knowing.

Nathan looked up at her, startled. He hadn’t mentioned anything. Not yet. He hadn’t even planned to.

“How do you—”

“I always keep an eye on you, Nate,” she said with a slight smirk, though her voice held a deeper meaning. “If you die, I die. Our fates are bound, remember?”

Nathan let out a quiet sigh, feeling oddly exposed, yet unsurprised. Of course she would know. She was a goddess, after all—and not just any goddess. “Yeah… I met her. Isis. Made a deal with her.”

Amaterasu’s expression grew serious as she listened.

“I want to take Caesar down. That was the price. If I succeed, she’ll back off—stop watching me, stop interfering. But if I don’t…” Nathan paused, his voice low. “She didn’t say it outright, but I know she believes I had something to do with Hera’s disappearance. She’s convinced I’m hiding something.”

He wasn’t wrong. Isis hadn’t threatened him directly, but her intent was clear. She was testing him, probing him. Watching closely for any sign that he was the one pulling strings from the shadows.

“She’s dangerous,” Nathan said flatly. “But I also know she could be… useful. If I can prove myself. If I can show her I’m not a threat, or at least not one she needs to eliminate. But if she turns against me—”

“Isis is dangerous, Nate,” Amaterasu said quietly, her voice carrying a rare note of solemnity. The warmth that usually radiated from her was subdued, her expression serious, eyes narrowed with thoughtful intensity. “I may have fallen to your Forbidden Spell, but Isis… she’s different. Smarter. Colder. She isn’t as naïve as I once was—or as Hera was. And from what you’ve told me, she’s already suspicious. She suspects you had a hand in Hera’s disappearance, doesn’t she?”

Nathan’s gaze darkened, his brows furrowed as her words echoed the exact concern gnawing at the back of his mind.

“So… she might be preparing countermeasures—even against me,” he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of unease.

Amaterasu gave a slow, affirming nod, black strands of her hair fluttering gently with the breeze. She seemed to be weighing something silently before she finally spoke again.

“I could help you. If it ever comes to that—”

“No,” Nathan interrupted sharply, raising a hand. His tone was firm, and his eyes held a determined glint. “No, not yet. Isis doesn’t know about your involvement. As far as she’s concerned, the only goddesses supporting me openly are Aphrodite and Khione. And I want to keep it that way.”

Amaterasu raised a brow but didn’t argue. She could sense the strategy behind Nathan’s decision. She wasn’t just an ally—she was a hidden card, a divine ace up his sleeve.

“You want to keep your truest allies concealed until the moment it matters most,” she said, a smile playing at her lips. “Clever.”

Nathan gave a short nod. “Exactly. She might already be watching my every move in Rome. I don’t need to give her more reasons to tighten her grip.”

The only times Isis couldn’t observe him, Nathan had realized, were when he was within the domains of Khione or Amaterasu—worlds that existed partially outside the gods’ shared awareness. While he doubted Isis was shadowing him constantly, the mere possibility irritated him. The feeling of always being monitored… it was suffocating.

“She’s thorough,” Nathan muttered under his breath. “Too thorough.”

“She’s a goddess of wisdom and magic,” Amaterasu replied with a shrug. “If she wasn’t cautious, she wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

Her tone lightened as she took a step closer, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ll grow stronger, Nate. I’ve seen it. But you’re still climbing. The gods… they’re a bit further ahead. Right now, focus on perfecting your strength as a demigod. Khione, Aphrodite, and I—we’ll keep supporting you as we’ve always done.”

She chuckled softly, her divine aura flickering like warm sunlight. “That’s what we’re here for, aren’t we?”

Nathan smiled faintly at that, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. Even amidst the chaos of everything he was juggling—alliances, betrayals, threats from divine beings—Amaterasu’s presence grounded him.

“True,” he said. “But I’ll need more than just support in the future. If I want to survive what’s coming… I’ll need more allies. More powerful ones.”

At that, Amaterasu’s expression sobered once again. Her sun eyes sharpened.

“If you’re referring to Hera,” she said cautiously, “I’m afraid I don’t share your optimism. She’s resilient, Nate. Strong-minded. Stubborn. Not like Khione, or even me. I don’t think she’ll ever willingly become your ally.”

Nathan nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in her words. He had seen it firsthand—Hera’s pride was an unyielding mountain, her hatred like molten iron forged into unbreakable chains. Enslaving her had been a victory, yes—but making her loyal? That would be another war entirely.

“I know,” he said at last, voice calm. “But I’ve already started making plans for her. I understand the kind of enemy—and tool—she can be.”

Amaterasu tilted her head slightly, watching him closely. “Then… you weren’t speaking of Hera?”

Nathan shook his head.

“No. There’s another goddess I’m considering enslaving.”

A moment of tense silence passed between them. The air grew still.

Amaterasu’s demeanor changed subtly. Her expression becoming very serious.

“This is a serious matter, Nathan,” she said flatly. “You don’t joke about enslaving a goddess—not with me. Who are you thinking of?”

Nathan’s eyes met hers without hesitation.

“Athena,” he said.

Amaterasu stared at him, unreadable for several heartbeats. Then, slowly, her lips parted.

“…Athena?” she repeated, the name laced with both disbelief and concern. “You’re not just bold, you’re borderline insane.”

Amaterasu’s eyes widened for a second—then, unexpectedly, she let out a soft, incredulous laugh. It wasn’t from amusement but disbelief, the kind that comes when someone you know has just stepped one foot off a cliff.

“Athena?” she repeated, her golden gaze narrowing as though she couldn’t quite believe what she had just heard. “You’re… serious.”

Nathan didn’t flinch. His expression remained composed, resolute, yet behind his calm exterior, there was a fire—a dangerous determination that made even a goddess pause.

Amaterasu shook her head slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. “You really don’t know the meaning of fear, do you?”

Athena was a completely different matter. A different league entirely.

Enslaving Hera had already been an act of heresy in the divine realm—Zeus’s wife, queen of the gods, reduced to silence and servitude. But Athena…? She wasn’t just Zeus’s daughter—she was his favorite. His pride. His shining legacy of wisdom and war. She was ever-present in the affairs of Olympus, always watching, always calculating. To make a move on her was not simply dangerous—it was a gamble with consequences Nathan could barely begin to imagine.

“If you enslave her,” Amaterasu said slowly, as though weighing every word, “and she disappears from Olympus the way Hera did… Zeus will take notice. He might have turned a blind eye to Hera, thinking she was sulking or retreating for political reasons. But Athena? That’s a storm waiting to break. If Zeus starts digging—if he even suspects you—”

Her voice dropped.

“Then your time will run out.”

Amaterasu didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t have to. The weight of what she didn’t say lingered heavily in the silence: If Zeus finds out what you’ve done… I don’t want to imagine what he’ll do to you.

Nathan already knew.

He was well aware that the King of Olympus had mellowed in recent years, adopting the image of a peace-seeking ruler, content to stay above the squabbles of mortals and younger gods. But under that surface still lay the old Zeus—the wrathful storm god, the tyrant of Olympus, the father who had thrown Titans into Tartarus without hesitation. That version of Zeus was not gone.

He was simply waiting.

And still, Nathan’s resolve didn’t waver.

“It’s because she’s so important to Olympus that I want her,” Nathan said calmly. “She’s influential. Respected. Feared. If I can control her—alongside Hera—I could tip the balance. Maybe even influence the entire Olympus Realm. Control it, eventually.”

Amaterasu chuckled. “You make it sound so easy.”

Nathan gave a slight, mirthless smile. “I never said it would be easy.”

Nearby, Kaguya—who had been quietly listening the whole time—stirred, her eyes wide with shock.

She hadn’t expected that. Hearing him speak of enslaving another goddess, especially Athena, shook her to her core. It was already astonishing that he had enslaved Khione and then Hera, but this?

This was insanity.

“Nathan…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is madness. Do you understand what you’re doing?”

She wasn’t just worried—she was frightened. The path Nathan walked was dark, dangerous, and treacherous. He was pulling gods into his orbit like they were stars waiting to be snuffed out or bent to his will. And now, he dared to challenge the very heavens.

Nathan, however, remained unmoved.

“I know,” he said simply, turning toward Amaterasu again. “I’ve made up my mind. She’s coming to Rome soon—for the Gladiator Tournament. She’s attending as a guest of honor, supposedly to observe and bless the event.”

His voice hardened.

“That will be my moment. I’ll strike during the tournament, when all eyes are elsewhere including the Gods’s eyes. They will be too occupied to find someone to get rid of Pandora.”

Amaterasu stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them now taut with tension. Her divine senses, her years of experience, told her that Nathan wasn’t bluffing. He had already thought it through. He was already planning every move.

“…Then you better make sure you don’t miss,” she finally said, her tone somber. “Because if you do—and if she escapes—there won’t be a second chance. And the wrath of Olympus will rain down on you like never before and I, Aphrodite and Khione won’t be much of help.”

Nathan’s eyes flashed with cold certainty.

“I won’t miss.”