Fate: I Just Want to Die and Sit on the Throne of Heroes-Chapter 76: Trash Talk Is Also an Essential Hero Skill

Chapter 76: Trash Talk Is Also an Essential Hero Skill
That night, outside the cave on Mount Pelion, the bonfire was the only flame in the vast, star washed darkness.
Heracles woke slowly in the gentle night breeze.
Before his thoughts even settled, his gaze wandered upward.
A full moon hung high above, the cold silver eye of the Moon Goddess Artemis watching the world, surrounded by countless glittering stars.
He exhaled once, then lowered his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a young man in a linen robe sitting by the fire.
Heracles jolted awake at once.
He shot upright and, by pure conditioned reflex, clamped his hands over his ears as if bracing for impact.
“So timid, and you still dare call yourself a hero?”
Rowe could not resist mocking him the instant he saw that reaction.
“Er… Mr. Rowe, please show a little restraint.”
Chiron, standing nearby, spoke with a helpless smile.
Several hours had passed since the “battle” in the forest at the foot of the mountain. Faced with Rowe’s request, Chiron had no way to refuse and naturally ended up here as well.
As for the centaurs, after Chiron’s earnest pleading, Rowe had not killed them. Instead, he had simply used his power to imprison them for a while.
It was during this brief time together that Chiron came to understand the Sage’s methods on a deeper level.
He was indeed wise.
He could see straight through to the weaknesses in people’s hearts at a glance.
And then… he would attack those weaknesses with words.
“Chiron, I told you already, you cannot be too gentle with your students.”
Rowe shook the wine cask in his hand, tilted his head back, and emptied it. The purple red Greek wine slid down his throat as he let out a satisfied noise.
“A bit of lenience can help temper them. Too much lenience only breeds weakness.”
“Yes, yes, yes… you are right, you are right…”
Chiron could only answer like that.
Of course he knew that.
But as a teacher, he could not suppress the affection he felt for his students.
“You really…”
Rowe shook his head.
He knew very well that Chiron would one day die precisely because of this kindness.
But he could not say that.
He was here to learn, not to lecture others on their fate.
So he turned his attention toward Heracles, who was still trying very hard to reduce his sense of presence.
“Trying to sneak away, future great hero?”
“I am not, I did not, do not talk nonsense!”
Heracles had just lifted one leg when he hurriedly set it back down and turned around.
He was not afraid of fighting. Even if he lost, he was willing to accept defeat openly.
What he could not bear… was being scolded.
“A hero is not just someone who is strong in battle.”
Rowe smiled.
“Do you want to know what the most important quality for a hero is?”
Heracles could no longer pretend not to hear.
He wanted to be a hero.
As the illegitimate son of the God King, his birth had been anything but glorious.
He was the result of Zeus’ infidelity, hated by Queen Hera from the moment he was born, and treated coldly by his “father” in the mortal world.
Born in disgrace, held in contempt, Heracles had not given in to despair.
Instead, that same pain had forged a desire in his heart.
He wanted a world where no one else would have to grow up like him.
That was why he had come here, to receive Chiron’s guidance and learn how to become a hero.
“I want to know.”
The young demigod took a deep breath.
He swallowed down the fear lodged in his chest and slowly walked toward Rowe, who sat by the fire.
Careful and uneasy, he only relaxed a little when he realized Rowe did not immediately open his mouth.
“You are scared, What are you afraid of?”
Rowe suddenly spoke.
Three of Heracles’ souls almost jumped straight out of his body. His legs nearly moved on their own.
“Sit down.”
Heracles forced himself to hold still and sat obediently.
The shadow left by the earlier humiliation was not shallow.
“I am telling you, to be a hero you need not only strength in battle, but also strength in words.”
Rowe tapped his chest.
“Like me.”
Really?
Heracles stared at Rowe’s serious expression, clearly doubting him.
“Cough… cough…”
Chiron, off to the side, sprayed the mouthful of wine he had just swallowed onto the ground.
“If you do not believe me, ask him.”
Rowe pointed directly at Chiron.
Chiron’s lips twitched.
Can I deny it?
Do I dare deny it?
This man is the true Grandmaster here.
As someone who respected his teachers, Chiron could not do something like refuting his “Grandmaster” face to face.
Heracles still looked uncertain.
Rowe laughed again.
“Think about it. As a hero, are you meant to cut people down or save them?”
Heracles did not answer aloud, but his eyes gave him away.
Of course, a hero exists to save people.
He was different from those reckless brutes who bore the title of “hero” in Greece.
“Then listen. If you act, will more people die, or if you do not act, will more people die?”
If he did nothing, more people would die.
Heracles understood that instinctively.
“Then how do you make people stop acting?”
Rowe looked straight at him.
Heracles fell into brief thought.
By… stopping them.
With words.
His eyes lit up slightly.
“Exactly. With your mouth.”
Rowe clapped his hands once, satisfied.
“You use your mouth to speak, to reason, to curse, to knock someone down before they draw a blade. To subdue others without fighting.”
Subdue others without fighting.
Chiron, who had been slouching a bit, immediately straightened his back.
As a man of wisdom, he instantly sensed the weight behind that phrase.
The sage was teaching him as well.
“So, now repeat after me.”
Rowe leaned closer.
“Say it with me: ‘Fuck it.’”
…
Chiron silently retracted every previous thought.
The sage was absolutely messing with Heracles.
But it was not only that.
Rowe was also trying to harden the heart that lay beneath Heracles’ muscles.
The young demigod still could not fully control the influence of his own divinity.
He feared the blood he carried.
Because of that fear, he rejected it.
And that rejection was what made the divine power rampage, driving him into madness.
Rowe wanted to teach him to let go instead.
To face his own power head on.
To control it, rather than be controlled by it.
At the same time, he wanted to accelerate Heracles’ growth.
To make the gods who were quietly watching him grow restless.
To force them to act and try every possible method to draw Heracles away from him.
Rowe had long since noticed the divine favor gathered upon Heracles.
As the greatest hero in Greek myth, Heracles naturally carried the expectations of the gods.
His path of growth was something they had already decided in advance.
No deviation was allowed.
It was a pity that Heracles did not immediately learn to be as unrestrained as Rowe had hoped.
His upright nature meant he could not be twisted too quickly.
Even so, Rowe’s methods bore fruit sooner than expected.
Three days later.
Chiron returned after spending half a day outside and brought news.
“Mr. Rowe, if you wish to become a hero, you must first pass the trials laid down by the gods and obtain their recognition.”
“Right now, the council of the gods on Olympus has temporarily adjourned. Several gods have begun to descend to the earth again.”
“I think this may be an opportunity.”
It was not just an opportunity.
It was the best possible opportunity.
Rowe had been worrying about how to properly provoke the gods.
In the Age of Gods, what method of courting death could be more straightforward and reliable than picking a fight with the gods themselves?
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