“Hah!”
“Hah!”
“Hey!”
Beneath the sun, in the spacious courtyard of the temple, the air whistled with each strike.
Silver-white light flickered constantly.
Thrust, chop, lift, parry, shake, cut…
The simple Lothric Knight Sword in Hephaestus’s hand performed a sword dance that was both magnificent and murderous.
“Phew~”
He ended the training with a final thrust, sheathed his sword, and walked to the pool at the side of the courtyard.
He cupped clear water in his hands and splashed it on his face.
The cool water instantly washed away the heat from his exertion.
“Much better.”
He picked up a cloth towel to dry his face and let out a comfortable, long sigh.
Looking at his handsome reflection in the water—red lips, white teeth—he nodded in satisfaction.
Fair skin.
Slightly thin lips.
A high nose bridge.
A touch of melancholy in his jewel-like crimson eyes.
Fiery red hair like flames.
Aside from the change in hair and eye color, he didn’t just resemble his previous life’s face.
He looked exactly the same.
Well done, me from two lives ago!
When I was playing games, I didn’t foolishly mess around with the default character creator—I went out of my way to install beauty mods.
That was truly ingenious!
Just thinking about it sent a chill of fear through Hephaestus.
Thankfully, back then, he had grown tired of monstrous character designs.
When starting a new game, he thought, Maybe I’ll make a human-looking character for the cutscenes.
And then he’d thought further: if he was going to cuddle with his beautiful Fire Keeper wife, he needed to be handsome enough to match her.
Since the original character creator wasn’t good enough, he installed mods himself.
That was how he got this face.
“Truly a stroke of genius.”
Hephaestus sighed at his own good fortune.
About a month had passed since the feast on Olympus.
The banquet on the mountain was still ongoing.
Even from his distant island, he could faintly hear the joyful laughter of the gods on Olympus.
These gods really knew how to party.
And they could really keep going.
Eating and drinking for so long—didn’t they need to, ah, relieve themselves?
Oh, right.
They didn’t.
Because gods don’t poop.
Hephaestus had experienced this firsthand.
He wasn’t interested in how much the gods were letting loose at the banquet.
Ever since he had awakened his past-life memories that day, he had been holed up in his temple, single-mindedly studying the cheat item he had brought from his previous life.
But honestly?
Regarding the First Flame—although he had fought countless times over it in his previous life—Hephaestus still struggled to understand what it truly was.
According to his shallow understanding, the First Flame was the origin of all things.
Like the “One” in the saying: The Way gives birth to One.
One gives birth to Two.
Two gives birth to Three.
And Three gives birth to all things.
As for the most primal “Way”—that was probably the world itself.
After all, he remembered that the world came first, and then the First Flame.
Hephaestus deeply regretted not thinking more back then.
If only he had been a bit more patient in exploring the game’s lore instead of constantly thinking about backstabbing bosses or clipping their heels, he wouldn’t be in this predicament now.
His life two lives ago was understandable.
He was exhausted every day after work.
Just being able to turn on his computer and play games was good enough.
But his previous life was harder to excuse.
Why had he been so single-minded about extinguishing the flame early?
Finishing the game early?
Getting it over with?
Now, his biggest achievement over the past few days was lifting the hollowing curse from himself.
He had also tried to restore the miracles and magic he had learned before, as well as his weapons and equipment.
“Alas… I have no one to blame but myself.”
Hephaestus sighed, picked up the golden goblet by the pool, and drained it in one gulp.
The sweet and sour fruit wine washed over his tongue, then flowed down his esophagus as he swallowed.
He reached into the fruit basket by the pool, took out a piece of fruit, and bit into it.
His teeth closed down with a crisp crunch, juice filling his mouth.
“Phew Comfortable”
He licked his lips, eyes half-closed, face full of satisfaction.
After waking up in his previous life as the Ashen One, everything else had been fine—but his sense of taste and smell had been greatly weakened.
Everything tasted like flavorless styrofoam.
Only Estus Flasks provided any stimulation.
Not only that, but the Ashen One’s body had even lost all worldly desires.
It was truly dull.
But no matter how dark a world became, there was always a ray of light.
“Ashen One… can you still hear my voice?”
Recalling the last words he had heard in that endless darkness, Hephaestus’s heart twinged.
His mood dipped.
But the feeling came and went quickly.
After all, one must always look forward.
Dwelling in memories could wait until he was older.
His top priority now was to gain the power to protect himself—to live a carefree life in this chaotic and uncertain future.
Fighting and killing… he had experienced too much of that in his previous life.
In this life, he only wanted peace.
After sorting out his emotions, Hephaestus sat by the pool and finished an entire pot of wine, plus a basket of fruit and roasted meat.
He let out a satisfied burp, then was about to clean up and return to the temple to continue diligently studying his recent gains—when he suddenly felt a somewhat familiar, faint presence rapidly approaching his temple.
A god had come to find him?
“Hmm?”
Hephaestus frowned and quickened his pace.
He entered the temple, found the mask he had tossed aside, and put it back on.
He didn’t want news of his restored appearance to reach the ears of the gods.
Not only did he want to avoid Hera—that wretched mother—finding out and clinging to him, but he also didn’t want to be entangled by other gods.
Because these Greek gods were notorious for… indiscriminate tastes.
Zeus, that famous King of Scumbags, went without saying.
Gender no longer stopped him.
But his brother Poseidon was even worse.
Not even species could stop him.
Throughout Greek mythology, the only god who could be called virtuous was him—Hephaestus the Fire God.
Even Hades—who usually kept a low profile, holed up in the Underworld—had done things like abducting a girl and forcing her into marriage.
Alas.
In this world, handsome boys must protect themselves when out and about.
Donning his mask and his usual attire—which covered as much skin as possible—Hephaestus sat quietly on the divine throne in the temple hall, awaiting the arrival of the uninvited guest.
Not long after, a dust-covered figure entered the temple.
Blue hair.
Green eyes.
A delicate, pure face.
A pure white toga robe.
A well-proportioned figure that fully displayed feminine beauty.
This was a nymph.
These goddesses were mostly born from mountains, forests, and springs.
They possessed no great power, but Zeus allowed them into Olympus due to their beautiful appearances, where they served as maids to the chief gods.
“Great Hephaestus, I bring a command from Zeus.”
The nymph saw Hephaestus sitting on the divine throne, bowed respectfully, and spoke in a sweet voice with a calm tone.
“Zeus commands you to proceed to Olympus at once.
He requires your skilled hands and artistry to build for him a Hall of the Gods unlike any before—to truly make Olympus the eternal and unmoving center of the world.”