Fate: I Heard After Death, You Can Ascend to the Throne of Heroes?

The morning sunlight shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the temple room.

Wearing a white nightgown, the goddess accidentally fell forward into Promise's arms, who had instinctively reached out to catch her.

Her golden hair, as long as her body spilt over the boy, and as she looked into his eyes with her amber ones, Promise found himself momentarily stunned.

Although half of her face was covered by a dark mask, her resemblance to Queen Hera was striking, making her still a truly beautiful goddess.

"What are you staring at?"

As he was lost in thought, Hephaestus calmly addressed him, "Are you going to put me on the bed or not?"

She spoke softly, lying completely relaxed in Promise's arms as if entrusting everything to him... 

She had no choice.

Hephaestus didn't dare to struggle or use any strength, fearing she might accidentally hurt him. 

She even considered letting herself fall and having the maid come in to pick her up instead.

Promise, snapping out of his daze, gently lifted her, while being surprised at how light she felt, 

It was as if she were weightless. 

After he carefully placed her on the bed, Hephaestus used her arms to sit up. 

Because her long, slender legs, visible beneath her nightgown, were immobile, a symbol of her imperfection.

As she sat up, she accidentally pulled on her long hair. 

Looking at the golden strands scattered on the bed, shining like silk in the sunlight, she spoke, "It seems I need to cut it. It's grown too long again."

"Huh?" Promise almost instinctively responded, "Do you really want to cut it?"

"Of course. I've even tried burning it with fire and had the dolls throw me into a lava pit, but it just keeps growing back."

Hephaestus casually shared her past attempts with Promise,

The latter was initially stunned, then noticed the expression of deep loathing in her eyes as she grasped her golden hair.

Recalling the resemblance to Queen Hera's radiant hair, Promise realized that what should have been a source of pride for Hephaestus had become something she detested.

Not only her hair, but Hephaestus had also considered replacing her eyes, which were the same beautiful amber color as Hera's. 

Athena, however, had stopped her, refusing to help find suitable replacements.

Realizing this, Promise fell silent for a moment, then, looking at the exquisite and beautiful goddess sitting on the bed, couldn't help but say, "Isn't that a shame? It's so beautiful."

Hephaestus paused, looking at the boy, recalling his behavior since he arrived. 

Then she smiled, finally understanding his 'strange actions' and why he had returned after escaping.

"It's because of Hera, isn't it?"

Despite her smile, Hephaestus's gaze was icy cold as she continued, "You see Hera's shadow in me and can't let go, right? I nearly forgot that you... are her most faithful believer!"

Promise remained silent for a while, but since he was unable to lie to a God. Finally, he looked up and said, "That noble goddess has helped me so much since I left the mountain... I always knew and understood she wasn't perfect, far from it..."

Hera had many flaws.

No, even flaws were a bit of an understatement.

River goddess Aegina, and Io, turned into a white cow; during his short journey, Promise had already encountered two of Hera's victims.

And his closest friend, the great hero Heracles, had suffered her wrath throughout his life.

"I initially chose her for a simple reason: as the goddess of marriage, choosing her minimized the risk of angering other gods."

By having a goddess, especially Hera, as his patron, he hoped to avoid provoking gods like Artemis, Apollo, and especially Zeus.

"With her temperament, how did you believe you wouldn't anger her?" Hephaestus asked, a bit puzzled.

No one knew what kind of Goddess she was better than her...

"Because I never planned to marry or have women," Promise replied with a smile. "I only wanted to become a hero and die a hero's death. I desired nothing else."

This was a secret even Athena didn't know.

In ancient Greece, beauty was like wealth..well there wasn't much difference between the two. 

Hera might turn a blind eye to pre-marital affairs because it is a norm in Greece, but betrayal in marriage is another matter.

For example, Hera only abandoned Jason when he betrayed Medea, despite his prior indiscretions.

So even a frustrated Hephaestus was taken aback, blinking at Promise's words.

"I chose Hera for that simple reason. But now... I think I can sincerely call her my goddess."

Hera had genuinely been kind to Promise.

The trial in the white court was because she doted on him. 

After all, anyone else interfering in Hera and Zeus's matters would have been long dead, but Hera let him go unscathed, even helplessly.

Even a stone, held long enough, evokes feelings.

And if one were to go by imperfections and flaws, Hera wasn't the worst.

At least he could avoid her wrath by not marrying.. if it were Artemis... fortunately. 

Hearing his sincere words, Hephaestus understood that Promise genuinely believed in Hera. 

But telling this to the god who despised Hera the most was practically suicidal.

So she smiled again, but it was no longer beautiful. 

Though she restrained her anger, the divine pressure made Promise feel suffocated.

Outside, all the dolls sensed this, many trembling and kneeling, as the entire temple and volcano shook with Hephaestus's rage.

She had admired his boldness to declare he'd paint all the gods and hadn't ridiculed him. 

She appreciated his ambition. 

Athena had mentioned him to Hephaestus half a year ago, and seeing Promise in person, she recognized his potential.

She initially showed kindness because she knew Hera couldn't control Promise, and this boy might end up with Athena. 

But now, understanding his genuine faith in Hera and his transference of that affection to herself, Hephaestus was conflicted.

In the temple of the Fates, the youngest goddess, Clotho, glanced at her crystal ball in confusion. 

She thought she saw a fifth thread of destiny entwine with the crystal, but it vanished quickly, leaving her unsure if it was real. 

Yet, swamped with work, Clotho had no time to investigate further, feeling overwhelmed by her endless tasks.

The scene, reminiscent of a volcano about to erupt, with Hephaestus's overwhelming anger, naturally alarmed the gods around the temple who had been watching the spectacle.

However, to their surprise, just as they hesitated and prepared to act, ready to rush in and take advantage of the situation, her rage dissipated as quickly as it had arisen.

In her peak fury, Hephaestus did something unexpected.

She removed the half-mask from her face, revealing her true appearance to Promise, the only human to have ever seen it.

A fiery birthmark marred the goddess's otherwise flawless beauty.

"Now, do you still think I resemble Hera?"

Her eyes, filled with anger and a tinge of pain, bore into Promise as she continued, "Look at my hideous face and tell me I'm a beautiful goddess. 

Look at my legs, unable to stand—so incomplete. I am the daughter of your revered goddess, Hera, the queen of the gods."

"I am the ugliest of the gods, yet I am a noble Olympian, who should have been perfect. Disgusting, isn't it... human?"

Hephaestus's voice was icy, devoid of any emotion.

Promise, however, stood up, meeting her cold, lifeless gaze without flinching.

His expression suddenly turned excited as he took out his pure white paintbrush. 

But he didn't use it. 

Instead, as if remembering something, he resisted the urge and tossed it aside.

Then he spoke in a pleading tone, "Goddess Hephaestus, please don't move. Stay just like that, I beg you!"

And quickly summoned Pegasus.

The winged horse, usually prone to grazing at the sight of gods, seemed oblivious to Hephaestus's anger. 

It flew out from the temple's stable, spread its wings, and landed beside Promise.

Ignoring the astonished cries of the maids, it forcefully opened the door and approached Promise.

Pegasus, as if knowing exactly what was needed, brought the canvas and set it up in front of him—it had become accustomed to this routine.

During this time, Hephaestus remained still. 

Looking at Promise's emerald eyes, bright like stars, and his excited demeanor, Hephaestus saw a reflection of herself.

It was the image of her, immersed in forging, pouring her heart into her work, feeling immense joy.

What is he trying to do?

Is he going to paint me?

Paint me as I am now?!

Finally, she understood Promise's intentions. 

Even though he remembered his promise to Hera and had cast aside the artifact she had made, Promise couldn't hold back anymore.

At the moment Hephaestus realized what he intended to do, her anger turned into panic. 

Instinctively, she reached for her mask, trying to put it back on.

But Promise boldly grabbed her hand, stopping her. 

His emerald eyes burned intensely as he looked at her and said, "No, just like this, don't move, don't move, Goddess Hephaestus!"

It would have been easy for Hephaestus to break free with just a slight effort.

But she didn't,

For reasons unknown even to herself, she eventually lowered her hand from the mask, revealing everything to Promise.

As the boy leaned against the crouching Pegasus and began his work with intense focus, he didn't anticipate that as soon as his brush touched the canvas, it would turn to ashes, unable to bear the image of a Goddess.

Hephaestus, seeing the bewildered Promise, sighed softly, then picked up the discarded artifact that was a treasure even among the gods.

With a wave in the air, she created a new canvas, placing it before Promise.

"Foolish... but this way, it doesn't violate your promise to Hera either."

Promise, overjoyed, accepted the canvas without noticing the astonished and incredulous look of the maid who had just entered.

Thus, he began to paint Hephaestus as she appeared before him.

This time, he painted exactly what he saw: Hephaestus, sitting on the bed in a white nightgown, her golden hair cascading down, illuminated by the sunlight.

She had removed her mask, revealing her true appearance.

The fiery birthmark did indeed mar the flawless beauty expected of Hera's daughter.

And it was irremovable because it symbolized Hephaestus's power as the goddess of craftsmanship and fire.

Her crippled legs, though, were another matter. 

It was a psychological barrier stemming from Hera's cruel abandonment, hoping she would die.

But it was this imperfect Hephaestus, so different from flawless deities like Athena, that excited Promise to take up his brush.

Time passed quickly.

In just over an hour, he finished the painting.

Before he could admire it, Hephaestus snatched it away to look as her face instantly turned red upon seeing it.

She realized she was still in her nightgown.

And...

"So beautiful..."

Looking at the painting, where she smiled faintly under the bright sunlight, her golden hair seeming to embrace her, Hephaestus was momentarily lost.

"Yes, very beautiful," Promise said with a smile.

Even Pegasus, representing art, nodded in agreement.

"My noble mistress, you have always been this beautiful," the maid courageously added in the heartfelt atmosphere.

Hephaestus didn't respond immediately. 

She quietly looked at Promise for a while.

"But my legs are crippled, and my face is scarred. I am not a flawless goddess. I am the ugliest among the gods..." she said softly, then looked back at the painting.

"But beauty is beauty," The boy answered.

Sometimes, things are not as complicated as they seem. 

Hephaestus was not ugly. 

Even with the fiery birthmark that marred her flawless beauty, it made her more striking and memorable.

The automata dared not mention it, and among the gods, she was considered flawed and thus the ugliest. 

Not to mention her later appearance as a male deity due to her marriage to the goddess of beauty.

Promise couldn't lie to her, and the painting was proof.

Hephaestus's expression grew complicated.

After a while, she put the painting down and put her mask back on.

Seeing the regret in Promise's eyes as she did, Hephaestus hesitated, then removed the mask again.

For some reason, revealing her true face to the boy now filled her with an inexplicable shame.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Hephaestus forced herself to stay calm and said to Promise, "Promise, you should leave now. I..."

"I want some time alone," She began to say but was interrupted by the sight of Promise, his innocent expression paired with the silver chain on his left hand as it made a faint, metallic sound as he moved.

Hephaestus found herself at a loss for words, realizing she hadn't yet made a key for the chain. 

Even if she wanted to, she couldn't unlock it.

The maid, witnessing her creator's awkward situation, struggled to suppress her laughter, knowing full well she'd be dismantled if she let it out.

"Oh, right. I haven't answered your question yet, Goddess Hephaestus," Promise said, his emerald eyes meeting hers with earnestness. "You're beautiful. I don't think you're ugly at all. You are a very beautiful goddess."

With that, Pegasus, who had been standing quietly, let out a gentle neigh and swished its tail before quietly leaving the room.

The maid hurriedly followed, unable to contain her laughter once she was out of earshot. 

She recalled the myriad expressions on Hephaestus's face, noting how even her ears had turned completely red.

... 

... 

Later on, the maid finally received a name: Eucleia. (EUKLEIA)

The name symbolized chastity and glory. 

In ancient Greek mythology, this was the name of Hephaestus's daughter, and much like Pandora, Eucleia, too, was a creation of the goddess.

Hephaestus had given her this name for a simple reason: 

"Promise asked me what your names were. 

I said you didn't have any. 

He said you should have names; otherwise, it would be inconvenient to address you. So now you have names," 

She spoke casually as if it were a small matter.

But Eucleia cried for a long time that night, along with the rest of the dolls in the temple.

Having a name meant they were no longer replaceable scrap; from that moment, they truly had life.

From that day forward, the once lifeless temple began to change dramatically within just over half a month.