Chapter 31.1 Coming of Age
The Goddess of Dawn lifted the veil of night, ushering in a new day on the divine mountain.
Today was a big day for the entire Olympus — one of the twelve major Olympian Gods, the God of Beauty, Venus, was turning two hundred. It was the day of his coming-of-age ceremony.
With the exception of the three virgin goddesses, who chose to avoid the festivities out of principle, every gods on the divine mountain gathered at the Temple of Beauty to present Venus with lavish birthday gifts. Hephaestus gifted him a pair of finely crafted golden bracelets. Hermes brought a pair of winged sandals. Ares presented a magnificent sword. Dionysus, true to his nature, delivered dozens of barrels of wine — thank goodness, Venus could finally drink legally! When he had first arrived on Olympus, the God of Wine had gifted him exquisite wine, only for Venus to discover that he couldn’t open it until he came of age. It had felt like a gift wrapped in frustration.
By the end of the day, Venus had received so many presents that his hands ached from unwrapping them.
Even the rulers of the underworld and the sea sent their emissaries with gifts. The gods of the underworld were known for their reclusive nature and reluctance to interact with Olympus. Hades dispatched Thanatos, the God of Death, to deliver a gift and complete the formalities. Cloaked entirely in a vast black robe that obscured his face, the underworld envoy extended a pale, slender hand from beneath his sleeves, tossed down a box of gifts before Venus, and departed without so much as a single word. It was as if he had never been there at all.
In stark contrast, the King of the Sea’s envoy arrived with great fanfare, bringing an astonishing one hundred carts filled with treasures. The sheer extravagance of the offering left the assembled gods marveling at the boundless wealth of the sea.
Even Venus, who had seen his fair share of splendor, was stunned by Poseidon’s generosity. The God of Sea’s gifts alone far outmatched those of every Olympian combined……
Was this truly just a birthday present, and not a marriage proposal? Venus wondered in disbelief.
The other gods present thought the same. This level of pomp and grandeur, almost as if it were meant for a wedding, was something most gods couldn’t afford. In comparison, the gifts they had meticulously prepared seemed embarrassingly inadequate.
Venus hesitantly asked, “Isn’t this…… a bit too much?”
He had never met His Majesty the King of the Sea…… perhaps once at birth? But if so, he had long since forgotten…… so what kind of virtue or ability could he have to receive such a generous gift from the King of the Sea?
The sea envoy bowed slightly, his posture respectful. “You were born from the sea. Naturally, His Majesty values your birthday.”
The implication was clear: the sea was Venus’ origin and rightful home. Olympus was merely a temporary residence.
The Olympian gods, who caught the hidden meaning in his words, immediately stiffened. Hephaestus conjured flames in his palm, Dionysus summoned twisting vines, Hermes brandished his staff, and Ares gripped his spear…… if the sea envoy so much as dared to suggest taking Venus away, they would blast him off Olympus without hesitation.
No one knew where Venus would eventually belong after tonight, but one thing was certain: Venus was Olympus’ treasure! Once he had arrived, there was no leaving. The outside world had no claim over him!
The fact that Poseidon had arranged a marriage contract with Venus two centuries ago was known only to the Horae and the King of the Gods himself. But given Zeus’ moral standards, he had never been one to respect the rule of “do not covet thy brother’s spouse.” He had long since forgotten the agreement. As for the Horae, they guarded their secrets well. Thus, while Olympus was still fighting over who would claim Venus’ first night, the God of Sea had already promised him the Queen of the Sea’s crown.
But even if they had known, the Olympians would never have yielded.
As the prized jewel of Olympus, Venus, oblivious to the underlying tension, simply responded with polite gratitude. “Please convey my thanks to His Majesty.”
With the gift-giving concluded, it was time for the coronation. Venus closed his eyes and bowed slightly. The Goddess of Time gently removed the wreath of ever-blooming white roses from his head and placed upon him the crown belonging to the God of Love and Beauty. He was adorned in even more gorgeous attire. The Goddess of Luck bestowed her blessings upon him, wishing that Venus would fully merge with his divine essence, ascend as a true Olympian god, and wield power worthy of his station.
When Venus’ long lashes trembled and he opened his emerald-green eyes once more, a hush fell over the gods. Everyone felt the subtle yet undeniable transformation radiating from within him.
He was still as dazzlingly beautiful as ever, his gaze bright and full of life. Nothing seemed to have changed, except for an indescribable allure that now clung to him. With every smile and every glance, their breaths grew heavier, their eyes darkening with longing, and an irresistible urge to be entangled with him to the death arose.
What had once been pure had now become…… pure temptation.
Venus had always envied Apollo for presiding over so many domains, but he himself was no less burdened. From birth, he had been entrusted with five divine aspects, but in his youth, his power had been incomplete. Until now, he had only embodied love and beauty. But with the full assimilation of his divine essence upon reaching adulthood, his true nature had finally taken form.
Venus, one of the twelve major Olympian Gods, now ruled over love, beauty, seafaring, fertility, and…… pleasure.
He had come of age. He could now experience carnal pleasure.
Yet, as far as Venus was concerned, he felt no different. The only change was a sudden influx of knowledge in his mind.
……Specifically, knowledge about sex.
That was all. Nothing too concerning.
Or so he thought, until he lifted his gaze and glanced around. The way the gods looked at him, their expressions ablaze with unrestrained fervor, was unmistakable. Their gazes burned with a single, unmistakable message: I want to take you to bed.
Venus: “……”
It seemed the real changes were in them, not him.
With the coronation complete, the final event of the night was the grand ball. As tradition dictated, Venus would open the dance with a partner of his choosing.
The moment the music began, Hermes, Dionysus, and Ares all strode toward the center of the ballroom, each extending an invitation to Venus. Seeing three Olympian gods already making their move, the others hesitated, unwilling to compete with them.
Hephaestus had been the first to take a step forward, but as soon as he did, he remembered his limp. His expression dimmed, and he quietly withdrew.
A cripple dancing, he could already hear the whispers of mockery echoing through the hall. This was Venus’ coming-of-age ball. He couldn’t allow himself to be the reason it was ruined, to become a laughingstock before all of Olympus.
Apollo remained where he was, a hint of regret flickering in his golden eyes. Of course, he wasn’t immune to Venus’ beauty, but his twin sister, Artemis, despised the God of Beauty and had always kept him at a distance. Because of her, Apollo had missed many chances to court Venus, and he knew his odds of success were far lower than those of the God of Wine, the God of War, and the God of Trickery.
Proud by nature, Apollo refused to step forward when rejection was the most likely outcome. No matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t risk such humiliation.
Hephaestus, on the other hand, was the opposite. Crippled by self-doubt, he had taken the step forward, only to shrink back in fear.
But in the end, the result was the same. Both lost their chance to dance with Venus.
Apollo cast a glance at Hephaestus, his expression devoid of mockery. As the noble and straightforward God of the Sun, he had never looked down on the God of Fire. If anything, he only found him pitiful.
Meanwhile, Venus stood at the center of the dance floor, watching as three gods advanced toward him from three different directions.
Dionysus stepped in front of him, dropping gracefully to one knee as he extended a hand. “Little Venus, may I have the honor of dancing with the grown-up you?”
To his left, Hermes twirled his staff playfully before offering a gentleman’s bow. “Dearest God of Beauty, would you grant me the pleasure of this dance?”
On his right, Ares, ever straightforward, simply stretched out a hand and said, “Venus, I want to dance with you.”
Venus blinked.
A melancholic charmer, a dashing trickster, and a striking warrior. The three male gods, each exceptional in his own way, all extended their hands to Venus in unison, inviting him to dance.
One hand had peeled grapes for him.
One hand had performed tricks for him.
One hand had taught him how to wield a sword.
It really was…… a difficult choice.
From across the hall, Hephaestus watched the scene unfold, his gaze lingering on Venus’ back as he stood surrounded by the three gods. His hands clenched at his sides as he lowered his head in silent frustration, staring at his own feet.
Because of his own cowardice, he wasn’t even in the list of choices.
He had always been on the sidelines. How could someone like him ever stand at the center of the ballroom alongside a god as radiant as Venus?
The entire hall held its breath, waiting. Whoever Venus chose would very likely be the one to share his first night.
“For the first dance, I choose—” Venus’s gentle voice rang through the grand hall.
Every god held their breath.
“I choose to dance with my best friend, Hephaestus.”
A stunned silence swept through the room before erupting into a wave of shocked murmurs. All eyes turned to the God of Fire, casting him into the rare and unfamiliar spotlight.
Apollo: “……” Well. Perhaps the truly pitiful ones were himself and the three gods who had been openly rejected.
The trio at the center reacted in different ways, but obviously none of them were happy. Dionysus and Hermes quickly masked their disappointment with practiced ease, but Ares was less composed. The disbelief and jealousy on his face were impossible to miss.
The gods whispered among themselves.
“The God of Beauty turned down all three of them, and invited the God of Fire instead?”
“Could he actually like Hephaestus?”
“No way, the white rose that all the gods on Olympus want to pick actually fell in love with the God of Fire? It’s really a fresh flower stuck in cow dung.”
……
In the corner, Hephaestus’ head snapped up in shock, convinced he must have misheard.
But then he saw Venus turning toward him, walking in his direction.
Not only had he misheard, he must have been misseeing too.
Venus stopped in front of him, smiling warmly. “Hephaestus, would you dance with me?”
In truth, Venus hadn’t wanted to choose anyone. For this most important of dances, the one he truly wished to share it with was Adonis.
But Adonis wasn’t on the mountain, so he had to choose Hephaestus.
Hephaestus was never well-liked on Olympus. He had few friends and spent most of his time alone, lurking in the shadows, keeping to the edges of every gathering. Venus wanted to pull him into the light, to show the gods that Hephaestus was just as worthy as any of them.
Hephaestus stood frozen, struggling to process what was happening.
Would he? Of course, he would.
But……
He could barely walk properly. How could he possibly dance before an audience?
And with a face as hideous as his, how could he bear to stand in the spotlight and make a fool of himself?
His gaze dropped, avoiding Venus’ outstretched hand.
“N-no, I—I don’t know how to dance.”
“I can teach you. It’s easy, I promise.” Venus smiled reassuringly. Back when he had wanted to dance and sing with Adonis, he had sought out the Muses to learn. Teaching Hephaestus would be effortless.
But Hephaestus only grew more flustered. “No, I…… can’t.”
Understanding dawned on Venus then. Hephaestus’ inferiority complex was deeply ingrained. Forcing him into the spotlight would only make things worse.
Lowering his voice, Venus asked, “Do you still have that mask?”
Hephaestus froze for a moment before remembering. During one of their walks together, he had worn a golden mask that covered half his face.
He nodded. The mask had always given him a sense of security, so he carried it with him. But he didn’t wear it often, because no one cared.
“Perfect.” Venus turned away and swept his gaze across the ballroom, his dazzling eyes twinkling with mischief. Then, in a clear, ringing voice, he announced, “I’ve just had an idea. Let’s turn this into a masquerade ball! Every god must wear a mask. What do you all think?”
What could they think? The God of Beauty had spoken. Utterly bewitched, they could only nod and agree without question.
And so, five minutes later, every god in the hall was masked.
Venus turned back to Hephaestus, his smile soft and inviting. “Now, may I have this dance?”
With half his face hidden behind the mask, Hephaestus felt his throat tighten.
Forget dancing. At this moment, he would do anything Venus asked of him.
Venus deliberately chose a gentle and soothing melody so that the dance steps would not be too fast, allowing Hephaestus to keep up with the rhythm. His unsteady gait could even keep up with the beat, so that his limp wasn’t too obvious. Venus definitely chose the music carefully.
The gods watched in surprise, realizing that with half his face hidden, Hephaestus was strikingly handsome. His crimson eyes, smoldering with an almost otherworldly allure, did not pale even beside the dazzling beauty of Venus himself.
And the deep affection in those red eyes looking at Venus was something that all the gods on Mount Olympus had never shown.
Perhaps that emotion was love, which the gods so often spoke of, yet had never truly known.
They danced gracefully in the dance floor, looking very well matched.
They were the brightest stars of the night.
Throughout the evening, Venus had danced with Dionysus, Hermes, Ares, even Apollo, the once-undisputed most beautiful god of Olympus. But none of those dances carried the same breathtaking resonance as the one he had shared with Hephaestus.
Surely, the world had gone mad.
“……Thank you for tonight, Venus.” The ball had ended, and Hephaestus, the last to leave, paused at the doors of the temple to offer his gratitude.
There were only the two of them left now.
Venus waved a hand dismissively, his emerald eyes crinkling with a carefree smile. “What’s there to thank me for? You’re my best friend.”
Then he gave a little wave. “Go get some rest. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Hephaestus watched as Venus disappeared into the temple. Only when the doors shut behind him did he let out a quiet, bitter laugh and remove his mask.
He stared at the mask in his hands for a long time, murmuring softly, “But I don’t want to be just friends anymore, Venus.”
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