The sequence of events was becoming clear.
There was no benefit for the gods of Mount Olympus to come to Earth and stir up trouble. After all, they were ancient gods, not some newly formed, shallowly cultivated evil gods. They were already powerful enough without sacrifices or human faith.
Zeus might not have been the best God King—Earth was like one giant brothel to him—but aside from creating the Amazons, he had indeed rarely interfered in Earth's affairs. He also kept the other gods under fairly strict control. Major gods like the God of War were not allowed to come to Earth casually.
This was why many forces on Earth held no ill will toward the Olympus pantheon. What people criticized most about them was still Zeus's private life.
Under these circumstances, there was no reason for Poseidon to barge into humanity's Atlantic Ocean and throw his weight around. Sailors often called storms at sea the Sea God's wrath, but most were simply bad weather. Poseidon did not care whether insignificant human sailors had a good haul or not. It had nothing to do with him.
Yet this time, he had done something shocking: he attacked Atlantis. That was worth pondering.
Atlantis did not worship Poseidon, true, but Poseidon did not need their faith. Even if he had wanted to punish heretics, Atlantis had existed for so many years. Why come now, at this precise moment? No matter how one looked at it, something was off.
Looking at this alone might not have meant much, but combined with Mercury's string of accidents, it became easy to see that someone was using a tactic to lure the tiger away from the mountain.
Poseidon had injured Atlantis's future Queen. How could Arthur possibly stand by and do nothing? To secure his own