Misplaced mercy

Bai Mo watched the snake leave and looked up at the sky. Had the gods already learned the secret that he was not from this world? Or did only Athena know? Were the gods watching him now from distant Mount Olympus?

As for becoming her retainer, he would have to be out of his mind to become Athena's retainer. What would he do then? Fight in the Gigantomachy?

He had to leave this place. If the gods strapped him to their war chariot, who knew how he would die? Bai Mo silently made up his mind. Still, in that case, he ought to visit Athena's temple first. She had specifically asked for him, after all. Who knew what would happen if he defied her?

While praying that the Athena here was the upright, wise goddess of Greek mythology rather than that dangerous figure from Roman mythology, Bai Mo asked around for the location of her temple. Fortunately, the people here were very friendly. Some even thumped their chests and offered to guide him, but Bai Mo turned them all down. After all, he had nothing on him right now. In a world of myths, it was best not to owe favors to anyone-or anything that was not human. Such debts were far, far too difficult to repay.

As he passed a smithy, the blacksmith called out to him.

"Young man, if you want to be like a hero, you should get yourself a longsword instead. Only the valiant Heracles could swing something like that thing of yours. If you run into a magical beast with that on your back, you probably won't even be able to run away."

Bai Mo turned to look and saw the blacksmith calling to him with a longsword in hand. He paid him no mind, wanting only to get on his way. He replied that he was not interested and prepared to leave, but the blacksmith persistently chased after him and blocked his path.

"Young fellow, that crudely made thing of yours is useless. Not only is it hard to swing, it doesn't even have an edge. If you encounter a magical beast, you won't be able to cut through its hide or even run away. What do you say, young fellow? Trade it in for my sword."

Bai Mo heard a scattering of murmurs around him. The onlookers were discussing things in low voices, but with his hearing enhanced by Electric Current Push, every sound around him still reached his ears.

"That fellow's at it again."

"Yeah, how many has it been this week already? His swords break after a few blows, but he uses his connections to force people into buying them."

"Ah, this young man's probably going to bleed money."

Bai Mo looked at the blacksmith approaching with his sword, a little more contempt in his eyes. He lowered the blade blank from his back. This thing could crush a house if he simply let go of it, and the ground trembled slightly when it came down. That sheer weight made even the blacksmith before him involuntarily swallow. At first, the blacksmith had assumed it was merely a piece of ground iron that had never been forged, its interior certainly full of impurities and scrap. But now that he had seen it, this blade blank was undoubtedly the heaviest thing he had ever encountered.

The blacksmith struggled to force out a smile and asked with feigned composure, "Have you thought it over and decided to trade it in, young fellow? That thing of yours looks crudely made. Why not add a little money, and I'll exchange it for a sharp, lightweight sword?"

"Crudely made? Is that what you're calling this? Then you're also prepared to pay the price for your words and actions, aren't you?"

With that, Bai Mo raised the blade blank in one hand. The entire movement flowed smoothly, and the blank remained perfectly steady, as though welded to his hand, pointing straight at the blacksmith. The imposing force bearing down on him frightened the blacksmith so badly that his legs began to tremble, but he could not back down. Everyone was watching him now. If he retreated, wouldn't that mean he was afraid of the scrap iron he had just disparaged? What dignity would he have left? He would likely become those fellows' after-dinner joke.

"O-of course. If you don't believe me, young fellow, we can certainly have a little contest."

"A contest? Sure. But let me make this clear first: this is no ordinary blade, and I'm no ordinary man. Blades have no eyes. I take no responsibility for torn tendons or broken bones."

The spectators could clearly see the blacksmith's Adam's apple bobbing, and all wore smiles of anticipation at the unfolding drama. Those with a discerning eye stared at the blade blank, clicking their tongues in wonder. Everyone had a feeling that this blacksmith, who usually threw his weight around, was about to get wrecked. The blacksmith had the same premonition, but he did not retreat. In his eyes, he had merely been fooled by Bai Mo's trick just now. The fellow must know some special technique for exerting force that allowed him to swing the blade blank like that. How could a normal person possibly wield such a thing?

Indeed, since he was only at the Electric Current Push realm, Bai Mo had not become a magnetic field musclehead. Still, his physique was certainly not bad: he was handsome and well built. But in ordinary people's understanding, someone like him could never lift such a thing. In this age that believed in gods, it was not actually impossible, but the blacksmith refused to believe it. He was accustomed to throwing his weight around, and backing down now would cost him face. So he forced himself not to believe.

And that was a mistake.

In an instant-the very instant the blacksmith took his stance-Bai Mo was almost like a predatory beast on the hunt. He had not lunged at any of the spectators, yet everyone felt the suffocating sensation of being marked by a wild beast. The blacksmith facing Bai Mo flew like a cannonball, smashing straight through his own smithy. Had his body not been reasonably sturdy, that blow would certainly have killed him.

With a clatter, the shattered iron sword fell to the ground. The work the blacksmith had been so proud of had broken like glass, along with the bones of his arms.

"Good grief, that lad is definitely a mighty warrior just setting out on his adventures."

"You're still calling him a lad? He's a brave warrior. An absolutely valiant warrior."

"Look at that fellow. He was always peddling weapons to adventurers setting out on their journeys. Now he probably can't even swing a hammer."

The people around him talked among themselves, but everyone now knew one thing: an extraordinary warrior had come here.

Bai Mo walked forward, picked up a fragment of the blade, and rubbed it between his fingers as though toying with a leaf. A rough sensation came through his fingertips. Without question, taking this sword into battle would be no different from suicide.

"This is the sword you're so proud of? If it were even as good as you claimed, it wouldn't be this pathetic." Bai Mo approached slowly, the blade blank on his back looming over the blacksmith like a cloud of death. He examined the fellow before him, whose arms lay on the ground as limply as though they had no bones.

But Bai Mo froze. He had only intended to teach the fellow a lesson, not cripple him. He had used, at most, twenty percent of his strength, without even concentrating it, yet that alone had nearly killed him. Bai Mo felt a lingering fear-fear of his own strength. Fortunately, his control was still fairly good. Otherwise, his every movement might hurt someone.

No wonder those lunatics often used all sorts of methods after a breakthrough, taking time to understand just how far their strength had reached. Could the current me still be considered human, in a sense?

Bai Mo could not help pondering this, while the man on the ground stared at him in terror. Bai Mo glanced at him, then turned and left.

In this age, without those technologies, broken hands meant being unable to work, and broken legs meant being unable to walk. People here who could not create value would be abandoned, perhaps even reduced to slavery or death. He had crippled the man's arms, but the man had accumulated some savings over the years. If he behaved himself from now on, he should still be able to survive. Breaking his arms would also stop him from continuing to force these sales on people.

Bai Mo asked a passerby and learned where Athena's temple was. It was not exactly close. The city's temple stood on the other side of the city, and even racing across rooftops and walls would take two hours. But he did not want to display superhuman strength now. He did not want to enter the gods' sights so soon.

By the time he reached the temple, evening had fallen. With a heavy heart, Bai Mo pushed open the doors to Athena's temple. He could now be considered to have entered Athena's field of vision. He rested his hand on the blade blank and stared at the statue of Athena nearby.

She held a shield in one hand and a spear in the other. Her feminine figure showed no softness, instead possessing a heroic air. Armor covered her flowing dress, accentuating her perfect figure all the more. But Bai Mo's gaze was fixed entirely on Athena's shield, for a snake-haired woman was carved upon it.

That was Medusa's head, which Perseus had offered to Athena. Seeing something from legend before his very eyes left Bai Mo momentarily dazed, and soon an ethereal voice rang out.

"Young warrior, what have you come to me seeking?"