“Don’t rush!”
Prometheus helplessly pulled away from Hephaestus’s hand.
Although he couldn’t see Hephaestus’s expression through the mask, he could clearly sense the disappointment emanating from him.
What kind of situation is this!
Prometheus shook his slightly sore hand with a wry smile and said earnestly to Hephaestus, “Hephaestus, my friend—right now I only have a rough idea.
This idea is definitely not going to get Zeus’s permission, so we need to think of a way.
For example—why don’t you go talk to Zeus?”
“Oh?”
Hephaestus put away his disappointment upon hearing this, crossing his arms and scrutinizing this thick-skinned old fox with a meaningful gaze.
He finally understood why Prometheus had come to him.
This old guy wanted to drag him in to draw fire!
Without a doubt, if Prometheus told Zeus that he wanted to create living beings in the image of the gods, Zeus would absolutely not allow it.
He would fly into a rage—possibly even banishing this audacious madman Prometheus into Tartarus in his fury.
Hephaestus remembered that in the myths, Prometheus had used some small trick to stall Zeus, allowing him to pull off a “act first, report later” move—creating humans first, and then immediately finding a backer for humanity: the Earth Goddess Gaia.
Gaia granted humanity the right to procreate and multiply.
If one wanted to destroy humanity, it would be a slap in Gaia’s face.
And what would be the result of slapping Gaia’s face?
Of course—it would lead to being overthrown!
One only needed to look at why the first and second generations of God Kings were overthrown.
The first generation God King—besides partly due to excessive desires—was also overthrown because he forced the children born by Gaia, such as certain Hecatoncheires and Cyclopes, back into her womb, imprisoning them in the endless abyss.
This angered Gaia.
Gaia held the power of fertility.
Forcing already born children back into their mother’s body was a great offense to her—which led to Cronus’s rebellion.
And the second generation God King was overthrown also because Cronus, fearing Uranus’s curse, swallowed all the children born to his wife Rhea into his stomach.
This again trespassed into Gaia’s forbidden zone—which led to Zeus’s successful rebellion.
Simply put—Gaia, one of the original primordial goddesses, could be said to be the mastermind behind the three generations of God Kings.
So even after becoming God King, Zeus dared not offend this goddess.
He could only try every possible way to find fault, making humans actively make mistakes.
As long as humans made mistakes, it would give him an excuse—and he could then legitimately destroy humanity without worrying about angering Gaia.
After all, under normal circumstances, Gaia was truly a homebody, rarely venturing out.
As long as her forbidden zones were not touched, she truly didn’t care about anything—just like the other primordial gods.
Only the youngest of the primordial gods was elusive, occasionally popping up to cause some trouble.
So Prometheus was now caught in a strange dead loop.
He had to create humans first before he could ask Gaia to grant them the right to procreate.
But Zeus was constantly watching him.
Once he created humans, Zeus would discover it immediately.
Without humans, he couldn’t go to Gaia.
With humans, Zeus would directly come to kill them.
That’s why this old fox Prometheus thought of coming to him.
Even if Hephaestus wasn’t interested in social etiquette and politics, a little thought would allow him to roughly understand his own influence.
First, he himself was the foremost artisan god—or rather, the logistics manager of Olympus.
Essentially, all the weapons and equipment used by the gods were crafted by him, so future maintenance and upgrades would rely on him.
Of course, the gods could also go to the Cyclopes.
The Cyclopes’ forging skills were not bad—only slightly inferior to his.
But the Cyclopes recognized no one except Zeus, who had saved them and made a permanent alliance with them.
They would only help forge equipment depending on their mood—and were not as easy to talk to as him, the God of Fire.
Furthermore, his relationship with the other chief gods was not bad—and Queen of the Gods Metis had an exceptionally close relationship with him.
If he were to step forward to stall Zeus, or persuade him, it would definitely buy Prometheus some time.
But then the problem arose.
Why?
Why should he pay so much for Prometheus?
Endure the pressure of potentially angering Zeus to help him?
Just because he was handsome?
“Tsk.
Go play by yourself.”
Hephaestus pushed Prometheus away.
He had lost interest in discussing with this guy who only thought of getting something for nothing.
It was all schemes—no sincerity.
No one would want to talk to such a person!
Hephaestus walked back to the forge, picked up his hammer, and prepared to continue striking.
“Hephaestus, my friend—don’t be like that.”
Prometheus, who had been pushed away, wasn’t angry.
Instead, he said with a smile, “I can tell you some news—about the great Queen of the Gods Metis.”
Prometheus threw out his trump card.
He knew all too well how intimate Metis and Hephaestus’s relationship was.
Honestly, it was so intimate that he almost thought they were having an affair.
Unfortunately, no matter how he observed or probed, he had to admit that there was truly not a hint of ambiguity between the two—it was purely a sibling bond.
Otherwise, he would have long since used this leverage to get Metis to cooperate with him.
Of course, even if there was something, he wouldn’t dare to manipulate Metis.
After all, Metis was the Goddess of Wisdom.
Although she seemed a bit muddled when immersed in love, in reality, this Goddess of Wisdom was very cunning.
If he acted rashly, Prometheus felt that he would unknowingly fall into her trap and be manipulated instead.
However, it didn’t prevent him from using Metis to leverage Hephaestus now.
“Huh?”
However, what he didn’t expect was Hephaestus’s very strange reaction.
It wasn’t at all as nervous and excited as he had guessed—instead, it was more like… how should he put it—like looking at an idiot?
Wait—looking at an idiot?
Me?!
Even though Hephaestus was wearing a mask, Prometheus still felt his gaze fall upon him, which immediately made him smile wryly.
He, the dignified God of Forethought, was actually being treated as an idiot by this God of Fire?!
Just as Prometheus opened his mouth to say something, he suddenly heard Hephaestus say, “I agree to what you said.”
“Ah?”
Hearing Hephaestus readily agree, Prometheus was dumbfounded.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I doing?
No—didn’t you clearly refuse just now?
How did you suddenly agree?
What are you trying to pull now?!
Hephaestus’s sudden move instantly confused Prometheus.
Goodness—he could indeed see through some gods’ thoughts, but he had never seen anyone as peculiar and strange as Hephaestus.
This drastic up and down made his heart ache.
“I’ll go to Olympus with you in a while.
You go back first.”
“Eh?”
After sending away the still somewhat dazed Prometheus, Hephaestus slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air.
He threw down his hammer, took off his mask, and his expression was as calm as an ancient well.
“Zeus, oh Zeus—you finally did it!”
His fiery red eyes were calm and indifferent.
Just now, he had felt that a certain magic on the bracelet he had given to Metis had been triggered.
What did this mean?
This meant that Zeus had finally made his move on Metis!
While feeling that his sister was not worth it, Hephaestus couldn’t help but mourn for this God King.
He might as well enjoy himself now—for what goes around comes around.
When the time came, it wouldn’t just be a few tally marks on his thigh that would end it.
He recalled the time he had told Metis that he could create a gender-changing ring—and her eyes had lit up as she placed a large order for certain pleasure-enhancing devices.
Hephaestus felt that this philandering God King would probably have his legs stuck together for quite some time in the future… no, his mouth stuck together… no, that wasn’t right either.
Anyway—both would be true.
By the way—he also had to smash that guy’s head in a while, so he had to practice first.
Lest he accidentally use a tiny bit too much force, and all sorts of red and white stuff splattered out.
How unsightly and unappealing would that be?
Indeed—wasn’t it in mythology that the God of Fire smashed Zeus’s head, allowing Athena to be born?
He was merely following the arrangements of fate.