Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

Chapter 301: In A Drunken Rage

As the sun rose in the sky, Rowen's fingers twitched him awake. The drunken man woke with a headache, yet the memories from last night were fresher than the dream he'd just been in. Grabbing the dining chair he stumbled his way up on his feet, nearly collapsing once or twice, but somehow managed to keep himself on his feet. Stay updated with m-v le-mpyr

Once up on his own and stable on his feet, his mind simmered with anger, with rage beyond anything he'd ever felt. He was a man of little value, who tried to abuse everything he had, even the small position at the gates to extort merchants and passersby. So how could he? How could he let go of what happened in his household? His wife's infidelity–the property he owned.

Despite his storming mind, however, he reached not for her throat which he could see from the cracked door of their bedroom, but rather a bottle of ale he'd stashed behind one of the cabinets.

'This bitch…This whore.' Uncorking the bottle with his teeth, he brought the stale ale to his lips. Downing it without care, he felt it burning down his throat before making his empty stomach churn. Only halfway through the bottle, he couldn't help himself anymore. Smashing it on the ground, he headed straight for the bedroom while Tanya came rushing out to the sound of the shattered glass.

"What the hell are you doing, Rowen?!" Seeing her husband charging at her the moment she walked out of the room, Tanya's eyes widened, but she didn't step away, flinch or even try to run. Instead, winding up her hand, she slapped him the moment she came close enough. "Get away from me! You monster!"

As the sound of the slap echoed, Rowen stumbled back over to the dining table and fell to the ground. Raging still, he tried to get up, but before he could, Tanya moved closer and kicked him in the chest to keep him down.

"AGHH! YOUUUU!" Grabbing her feet as she tried to retreat, Rowen twisted her ankle and managed to make her fall sideways. Crashing her head against the wall, a deep cracking pain seeped through Tanya's skull–making her not only lose consciousness but also stiffen up at every limb.

Spasming from the concussion, the mother of one was left unconsciously flailing from the torso while her arms and legs remained stiff as a board. Trashing against the chairs, and the table, it took no more than a moment for her limbs to swell up.

Getting up again in the meantime, his eyes focused on his wife, Rowen's heart seized at the pool of blood gathering under Tanya's skull. Looking at the wall quickly, he noticed a splash of blood where her head had crashed. It was draining down the wall in a trail of many, and following it down his eyes laid back on his wife.

But instead of helping her, he took deep anxious breaths–his heart racing with thought and his mind yelling a thousand different things at him. But amongst those screams, once stuck out to him the most, and it was but a singular word spelling…

'RUN!' Leaving Tanya to her fate, the husband leapt over her body and headed for the exit. He was fearful of being imprisoned–and since his drunken mind wasn't much help, the only option for him to save himself was to run. Even the voice of his crying child didn't make him stop. Rushing out the door still, the city gate's guard went on the run.

He couldn't be sure if his wife would survive or if anyone would find them before his child died of starvation. A coward like him, however, did not care for the only thing important to him, was to save his own skin. A child? He could make plenty if the guards never find him! A wife? Who cares?

To him, marriage was only a burden at this point.

A man who runs from his child–not even a goddess could look at him fondly. Especially the kind who was abandoned herself, and luckily for her, the man was about to cross a priestess of hers. But before that happens, there was something the goddess must attend to. A letter by her father–left underneath the stone statue of her mother.

Asmodia had left it in her care and disappeared just as quickly as she'd arrived. After all, it wasn't her privilege to know its contents and the small note on the end made sure she knew it.

'What coincidence that the two are about to cross paths just as I receive this letter and Erika has accepted me? Perhaps my father knew of this man's cowardice and the eventual acceptance of the priestess about me.' Brushing the matter away for a minute, Athenia turned her gaze to the darkened letter.

Written in golden ink, it addressed her directly as if it wasn't a message but rather a conversation with her father.

'My daughter, I know I'm no longer with you–probably lost to the star of extinguished like one that has lost its splendor. And yet here I am with you, in this letter, in many such letters scattered throughout your journey. You'll find me in the darkest corners, hidden in some crevice that nobody else but you and your chosen could find.

I can tell you plenty of what will be, what you must to avoid the worst of the storms, but doing so benefits none–for your future will not be the same if you're living it through me. Even so, when the candles wick away, when the moon refuses to shine, remember–your father was there, watching over you over every possible stretch of time.

You have nothing to fear for you are Athenia–the goddess of death and the goddess of life.'

Smiling throughout the note, Athenia had momentarily forgotten about Rowen and Erika's crossing. She was gleeful, genuinely happy. Hugging the note close to her heart, she felt its words burning into her chest and she pulled her hand away, the note was gone but the words remained, inscribed into her memories and the eternal soul of a god.

"Now then," with a smile, she conjured the looking glass. "Time to teach a coward a lesson!"