Greek Myth: Zeus Wants Me to Be His/Her (XXXX)?????

What on earth was Acheron up to?

Not only did she show no hostility, but she even threw a grand banquet in her honor?

Poseidon scoffed at the thought. Unless that girl had completely lost her mind.

There's no such thing as good wine at a suspicious feast. That's exactly how her mother, Rhea, tricked Cronus into drinking the potion that contained Metis's magic.

Poseidon hadn't survived this long by relying solely on divine birthright or her sea god authority. She owed it all to one thing: caution.

All that emotional buildup, romantic atmosphere. Those were when people let their guard down the most.

So normally, she'd just charge straight in and strike first. That way, her opponents wouldn't have time to scheme or pull anything fancy.

This time was no different. She hadn't even bothered replying to the invitation before storming in directly.

And yet, she could still smell layers upon layers of preparation behind the scenes. She just couldn't figure out what exactly Acheron was planning.

The moment she entered the marble-built city-state, Poseidon's wariness only deepened.

It wasn't because of how luxurious the place looked. No, what shocked her was the fact that this was clearly a city built for demi-human species.

A majestic temple for the gods, no matter how extravagant, wouldn't faze her.

But a city like this, built by mortal hands for non-human races, was something Poseidon had never seen before. Not on this scale. Not to this level of refinement.

Had the Silver Whirlpool really grown so much, all while flying under the radar?

She quietly tested the stone pavement beneath her feet. Her divine step easily left a footprint behind.

This kind of material might seem cheap and undignified to gods. But for demi-humans, collecting and shaping such stone to build a city was an enormous undertaking. One that brought little benefit.

For them, survival and reproduction were far more important.

So, the only explanation was divine command. This whole city must have been constructed under Acheron's direct oracle.

And how long had it taken her to achieve this?

A year? Ten?

Surely she hadn't done it all herself using divine power, right?

If so, then all the rumors Poseidon had heard about the Silver Whirlpool were nothing but a smokescreen. Acheron had been hiding her hand this entire time.

"Is something bothering you, Lady Sea King?"

Acheron's warm voice snapped Poseidon out of her thoughts.

"Pretty nice, right? Took me a lot of effort to build this place."

Every single stone in this city bore the mark of Acheron's direct labor and devotion. So when she introduced the place to Poseidon, she couldn't help sounding a little proud.

Poseidon gave her a perfunctory nod.

"It is impressive. No surprise, coming from the bloodline of Oceanus."

Then she narrowed her eyes slightly.

"But Acheron, why did you invite me here? What's this really about?"

"And just so we're clear, I'm not attending that kind of party."

As the dignified and glorious Sea King, Poseidon had no intention of participating in one of those indulgent gatherings Acheron was known for.

If word got out, where would her pride go? Her image? Poseidon had always played solo, never once engaged in those chaotic team events.

"Don't worry, I've prepared everything properly. I promise you'll be very satisfied."

Acheron smiled sweetly.

"And as for the rest, can't we talk while we enjoy ourselves?"

From atop the distant temple, Eros and Hera were watching the scene unfold with great interest.

"Looks like Poseidon's already taking the bait," Hera murmured, eyes fixed on her full-blooded sister as she walked right into the carefully spun web.

Although, calling it a trap might be a little unfair.

After all, they weren't doing anything that wicked.

All they'd done was put forward a rather difficult-to-explain candidate for Poseidon's future queen.

"You sure this'll work?" Hera asked, frowning slightly. "You really think Acheron can get Poseidon to swear the oath?"

Even though Acheron had undergone a bit of personality adjustment, Hera was still uneasy.

After all, when it came to deviants like them, same-gender repulsion was a real possibility. Who knew if it'd affect the plan?

"Relax," Eros replied confidently. "This is a textbook example of an open conspiracy. Poseidon won't refuse."

If she did refuse, well, that would only mean the Goddess of Fate had quietly tugged at destiny's strings.

And in that case, Eros would just have to move to Plan B.

Meanwhile, Poseidon stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her.

"A public bath?"

Eros had perfectly replicated the grand bathhouses that Roman successors of Greece would one day elevate to legendary status, well ahead of schedule.

Warm spring water gushed from stone-carved fountains, filling the luxurious marble pools with gentle mist swirling above the surface.

Countless nymphs strolled through the fog, some draped in sheer silks, others having shed their veils entirely, soaking lazily in the steamy waters with bare arms resting along the edges.

And when Acheron and Poseidon arrived?

Instead of bowing or offering solemn greetings, the nymphs burst into cheerful laughter, gathering around to tug them by the hands and pull them directly into the pool.

Poseidon wasn't sure what she was thinking anymore. Before she knew it, she was already soaking in the bath.

"Would Lady Sea King care for some fruit?"

A mermaid-like nymph offered grapes, nestling naturally against Poseidon's side as she cooed sweetly.

"Would you like to try our freshly brewed milk wine?" another said, this time a satyr girl who gave a slight puff to her chest. Wet fur clung sensually to her skin, hinting at everything and nothing all at once.

So this was the infamous wine and meat debauchery?

Stay alert, Poseidon.

Ahem. This was nothing she couldn't handle.

After personally confirming that the food and drinks were indeed just ordinary fruits and alcohol, Poseidon happily extended both arms and embraced the two nymphs on either side.

Almost immediately, more attendants gathered around. Without a word, they slid into the water and began massaging her feet.

A petite bovine demi-human girl leaned in with her generous milk storage pouches, offering a heavenly makeshift pillow for Poseidon to recline upon.

Each motion, every service, so natural, so well-timed, it made Poseidon feel like she'd returned home. A sense of comfort she hadn't known in ages.

"…Wait a second. What are you girls even wearing?"

Struggling slightly out of her blissful daze, Poseidon finally noticed the outfits on the attendants.

No two were alike.

Some wore the classic wet white tunics. Others had on barely-there fabrics that only covered the essentials. There were tight bindings, daring cutouts, and designs that looked like they had been intentionally wedged into place.

She couldn't say it opened her eyes. More like flooded her brain with the most forbidden imagination.

"What's it matter, Lady Sea King? As long as you enjoy the view, right?"

Acheron sat across from her. Compared to Acheron's towering physique, Poseidon looked almost petite.

"…That's true. I do like it."

Not just the bold outfits, though those were a treat, but the entire atmosphere of being pampered to the max.

Seriously, what kind of boot camp had Acheron run for these attendants? Their service was so on point it was blowing Poseidon's mind.

From his hidden vantage point, Eros nodded smugly.

Wasn't he the God of Footbath Parlors?

Give him a bit of time, and he'd train a whole army of top-tier service girls.

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