A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Athena opened her eyes, emerging from her deep slumber.

She found herself lying on a soft, warm bed, cradled in someone's arms. Her instinct as a woman made her body tense, but as soon as her nose caught a familiar scent, Athena's stiff frame softened.

Consider this a concession from the defeated to the victor.

She rationalized her situation while leaning slightly closer into Roy's embrace, her wide-open eyes staring at the ceiling.

A full night's rest had allowed Athena to recover part of her divine power, but the lingering weakness inflicted by the Light of the Right Hand was still present.

Just as Athena had deduced upon her defeat, the Light of the Right Hand was an authority that stripped away all factors related to victory from its target, leaving defeat as the only outcome.

If energy was necessary for victory, it reduced energy to zero.

If strength was the key to winning, it drained all strength.

If authority was essential for triumph, it sealed all authority.

Even abstract conditions, like awaiting reinforcements, could be undone. The Light of the Right Hand could twist fate and reverse cause and effect, ensuring no one could come to your aid—almost as if it were a manifestation of the world's own inhibitory force.

In essence, by eliminating every internal and external factor that could lead to victory, the Light of the Right Hand guaranteed a probability of zero for success, resulting in absolute defeat.

It was precisely for this reason that Athena found the Holy Right so incomprehensibly unreasonable. She refused to recognize such an outcome, seeing Roy's right hand as utterly unfair—like a cheat code given form.

…

"You're awake, Athena... Did you rest well?"

Roy's voice roused Athena further. Her petite body's movements in his arms had already stirred him awake. Slowly opening his eyes, he yawned lazily and rubbed his face against Athena's silver hair, like one would when snuggling a kitten. The gesture earned him a disgruntled glare from the goddess.

"I rested adequately," she replied, her tone calm yet measured. "I've recovered some strength. At this rate, it will take me about two more days to fully recover."

Athena furrowed her brow as she assessed her condition. She wasn't physically injured—her defeat wasn't the result of wounds but rather of a complete nullification of her "victory factors." Now, her recovery wasn't about healing wounds but rather about the diminishing influence of the Light of the Right Hand as her lost "victory elements" gradually returned.

Physical strength, energy, divine essence, authority, and even intangible things like bonds and fate were all making their way back to her.

"Since you've mostly recovered, let's get up," Roy suggested. "Once we've had breakfast, we'll take a trip to Athens."

Roy, who had refrained from indulging too excessively in the bath the night before, stretched leisurely.

"It makes no difference to me where we go," Athena replied softly. Her voice, elegant and serene like a gentle stream, carried no trace of melancholy—only a calm acknowledgment of reality.

Though she was Greece's most iconic goddess and the protector of Athens, Athena harbored no particular attachment to the city. It was, after all, a role humans had assigned to her, woven into myth and attributed as her divine function.

Of course, as the patron saint of Athens, if Athena were to fight in Athens, she would receive a significant regional boost, making her even stronger.

The Heretic Gods and Heroic Spirits are fundamentally different existences. Heroic Spirits' tales occur first and are later mythologized, whereas the stories of the Heretic Gods are first infused with myth and then manifest into their divine roles. The cause-and-effect relationship is completely reversed.

When Roy realized he had been flattering the wrong way, he shrugged. He hadn't expected Athena to have no special feelings for Athens. However, he didn't dwell on it and casually remarked, "...Well, I haven't been to Athens either. Let's go take a look."

In his original world, Roy had loved traveling, but time and financial constraints had always prevented him from visiting all the places he dreamed of. In the A Certain Magical Index world, life was constrained by war, poverty, and familial obligations—caring for his sister and taking odd jobs just to make ends meet. Aside from his street and a nearby Puritan church, he hadn't even fully explored London, where he lived.

Now, in this modern society, he had power, wealth, and freedom from such worries. Although he spent most of his time in his villa or the Vatican reading books, when given the opportunity, he didn't mind traveling.

"Fine, I'll go along with your plans... Although I am no knight who swears loyalty to her master, I will do my best to regard you as my Lord," Athena said.

She gracefully leapt down from the bed. The goddess, as always, required no grooming, and she was already prepared to leave the bedroom.

"Wait a moment, Athena," Roy called after her.

"Something else, Roy?"

Athena's tone was plain and neutral, neither deferential nor coldly formal. It was the casual address of a friend, which made Roy feel a bit closer to her.

Tilting her head slightly, strands of her silver hair falling over her amber eyes, Athena's puzzled expression gave her the appearance of an exquisitely crafted doll.

"Change your outfit. What you're wearing now is... well, a little too outdated."

Roy's expression was strange as he looked at the loli-like Athena in her oddly colored attire. If not for her divine aura and elegance, her current outfit would have looked entirely unsuited, like a country girl dressed in mismatched colors.

"The clothes are over there. I had them sent over from Switzerland yesterday."

Roy pointed to the sofa, where a neatly folded white dress with lace and frills lay waiting.

"Is it… ugly?" Athena glanced down at her outfit and hesitated.

This was a dress she had chosen herself. If Roy criticized it, it would deal a blow to the goddess's confidence.

"I wouldn't say it's ugly, but... let's just say it doesn't match your current appearance. Since you're in a child's form, you might as well dress cutely to suit it. Actually, your attire in your full form was beautiful—a perfect homage to the rich, classical Greek aesthetic."

Roy finished dressing as he spoke, a smile tugging at his lips.

Athena initially intended to refuse his suggestion. She was a willful goddess, unbothered by others' opinions. But after some hesitation, she relented. "…Then step out."

"What?"

"I said, step out. Do you plan to stay and watch me change clothes?" Athena glared at him.

Roy was tempted to retort, "Yes, I wouldn't mind watching." But noticing a faint blush on Athena's fair and delicate face, he swallowed the teasing remark and walked to the door with a helpless grin.

Their relationship wasn't close enough for that kind of banter yet. It wouldn't do to push the proud goddess too far.

As Roy passed by, he caught Athena muttering under her breath.

"I am not Aphrodite, dressing up just to catch a man's eye."

"Ah, Aphrodite? You mean Venus? From the tone of your voice, you don't seem to like her much," Roy asked curiously. (T/N: She doesn't like Ares and Poseidon either)

"That sort of indulgent woman is exactly the type I, a self-respecting goddess, detest most! A useless creature who relies on seduction and manipulation of men to solve her problems. She's a disgrace! Let's not talk about her anymore, Roy. Just leave."

Athena's tone turned impatient, almost irritated, as she hurried him out.

Indeed, the reputation of Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, in mythology is less than stellar. She is often portrayed as slutty, relying on her looks and charm to sway men. Athena, by contrast, is seen as pragmatic and decisive, solving her problems through her own strength.

It could be said that these two goddesses represent two starkly different archetypes of femininity, even in modern times.

Despite Athena's own reputation for cunning and ruthlessness—traits common among Olympian gods—she stood apart in other ways. In the chaotic private lives of Greek mythology, only Hestia, Athena, and Artemis maintained their status as virgin goddesses, which spoke volumes about Athena's uniqueness.

…

At the breakfast table, Athena had changed into an intricate, lavish Baroque-style dress, paired with white stockings and crowned with a flower wreath identical to the one she wore in her mature form.

Roy couldn't help but feel the wreath added a girlish charm to her appearance; without it, something would have felt missing.

However, Athena seemed unaccustomed to such an extravagant outfit. She frowned slightly, tugging at the fabric here and there, clearly a little uncomfortable.

"Lord Roy, a handwritten letter has arrived for you from John Smith, the God Slayer of North America," Erica said as she entered the dining room. "He requests your assistance in resolving a pressing issue. Lord Smith mentioned that he would have come to Italy to invite you personally, but his current situation makes it impossible to leave North America. Hence, he humbly asks you to visit, promising to apologize in person upon your arrival."

Every morning, Erica, acting like Roy's personal secretary, would update him on the latest major events in the magical world, as well as anything involving him. Roy had grown accustomed to Erica managing these matters, and sometimes he wondered how awkward things would be if she weren't around.

"John Smith? I don't know him, and I have no interest in going all the way there to solve his problem. Decline and tell him I'm busy."

Roy didn't even hesitate before responding.

Asking him to cross continents for someone he didn't know? Roy was not the type to be altruistic.

"Understood. I'll politely decline Lord Smith's invitation," Erica nodded, unfazed by Roy's decision.

Smith, as a Campione, carried immense authority. Most magic associations would never dare refuse him. But Roy was no ordinary figure. He was a Campione himself, one with a ferocity on par with the Eastern Holy Cult's leader. Refusing John Smith was as easy as waving his hand.

However, just as Erica turned to leave, Roy raised his hand.

"Wait, Erica. Don't reject him just yet!"

Roy's clairvoyant abilities had uncovered something deeply interesting. This time, Smith's request was linked to a certain legendary artifact—the Holy Grail!